Title: Crossing Parallels Author: Chiqua Spoilers: Small Potatoes Rating: NC-17 Classification: CRA Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Archiving: Gossamer - yes. Anywhere else is fine, too, so long as my name stays attached. And please drop me a line and let me know the URL so I can come visit. Feedback: All feedback will receive a chocolate-covered Mulder/Scully/ Krycek (whichever your preference) courtesy of myself! This has taken me a long time to complete and feedback of any sort will be loved and squeezed. Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, etc. do not belong to me, they are owned by Chris Carter and 1013 productions. No infringement is intended. Summary: Through what they think is a freak accident, Mulder and Scully trade places with Gillian and David. The results will change Mulder and Scully's lives forever. Acknowledgments: A big thank you to Youkneek whose story "Round File" was my inspiration. I also want to acknowledge Madeline L'Engle from whose "A Wrinkle In Time" I shamelessly stole a plot device. And finally, I'd like to thank Jacy Yates for beta reading, editing, encouraging me and for getting on my case to get this thing done! Your advice and comments have been invaluable to me. Author's Notes: While I am certainly not an Alanna Baker or a Rachel Anton, this has been a labor of love for me. The plot is going a bit far back from where we are now, but I couldn't shake the idea. So if you don't mind one more Scully-Cancer-Arc story, then read on. You are also invited to peruse my fanfic recommendation archive at http://www.mulderitsme.com. County Morgue Martinsburg, West Virginia Scully stared quizzically at the tail of Eddie Van Blundht, Senior, now laying, broken, on the floor. She'd just examined the corpse and it had been firmly attached. The only one who'd touched it since her was...Mulder. She grimaced even as a slight smile curved her lips. He must have been less than gentle with his poking and prodding. The quicklime which had preserved the body had also made it extremely brittle. Mulder could be so childlike sometimes, she thought as she retrieved the tail and began repairing the damage Mulder had wrought. Endearingly so, considering his attempt to make the break unnoticeable and then beating a hasty retreat. It was when he did things such as this that the wall she'd built around her heart would crumble just a little, her throat constricting with the effort to choke back the sudden onslaught of emotion. Unwittingly, Scully's mind began to wander over memories normally only indulged in the privacy of her home, preferably at night, when the rest of the world was sleeping. Mulder's voice whispered inside her head, speaking words she held close to her heart... ...Nobody down here but the FBIs most unwanted...Before I could only trust myself. Now I can only trust you...If there's an iced tea in that bag, could be love...I think it's remotely plausible that someone might think you're hot...They've taken you away from me...I still have the x-files - and I still have you...The truth will save you, Scully. I think it'll save both of us.... There was a time when she thought Mulder might see her as someone other than a partner and colleague. Back at the beginning of their relationship when she'd been more na=EFve, more innocent. Unfortunately, as time went by and nothing deeper was ever expressed, she gradually realized that wasn't going to happen. He was too involved in himself and his quest to think of their relationship as anything more than an alliance to seek the truth - whatever that would turn out to be. They'd been searching so long and suffered so much. She'd begun to wonder if it was worth it. Especially since her cancer was diagnosed. She had always thought that maybe, someday, she might find enough courage to make the first move toward Mulder - the courage to risk what they already had. When she found out that, for her, there were only so many "somedays" left to live, it had cut deep. Deep enough to penetrate the pain of losing something she never had. The shrill ring of her cellphone interrupted her reverie. She peeled off her latex gloves and reached for the phone. "Scully," she answered. "Hey, yeah it's me. I think you should get down to the hospital right away, okay?" "I'm on my way." She sighed as Mulder broke the connection. Back to reality. ******************* "You're a damn good looking man," Mulder heard, and then the ceiling came crashing down on top of him. His head hit the hard linoleum floor and there was black. Eddie slowly picked himself off the floor, wincing as he did so. That had seemed like a good idea at the time, he just didn't know it would hurt so much. He stopped brushing himself off as he heard the sound of voices. They were very soft but were getting louder. They didn't sound like they were coming from the hallway. No, they were surrounding him and slowly increased in volume, talking over one another and not making any sense. A slight wind began whispering through the room and gradually rose until it stung his eyes and tore at his clothes. A white light began to fill the room, brighter than any light he'd ever seen and Eddie whimpered in fear. He turned and fled from the room, not seeing the pair of eyes peering from the ceiling above and leaving Mulder lying on the floor, unconscious, and the light shone blindingly white around him.... ******************* Mulder slowly came to, his head throbbing. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing the sore spot on his head. The last thing he remembered was staring up at the light flashing in the ceiling and Van Blundht knocking him to the ground. Suddenly, a loud voice called out. "Hey, David, you okay?" Mulder's eyes snapped open. The scene before him was straight out of the movies. Television cameras took up strategic positions in a half circle directly in front of him in the small locker room, which now had only three walls. People formed groups here and there but were faceless in the shadows behind a myriad of lights pointed at him. Mulder could feel the heat of the burning lights and broke out in a sweat under his shirt. Everyone's stare was focused on him. Mulder could see a man walking towards him from behind the array of people and equipment. He was tall, about six feet, with a shock of unruly graying hair atop a pleasant looking face. "Hey, David, that really knocked you out. The stunt people were supposed to make sure that didn't happen." He reached Mulder and crouched down beside him. With a concerned frown on his face, the man lowered his voice and said, "Are you okay? Should I get a doctor?" Mulder stared at the man incredulously for a second, then exploded. "What the hell's going on here? Who are you? Where's Scully?" He winced in pain as his shouting reverberated through his head. "Woah, David, take it easy! It's me, it's Chris," the man said, clasping his shoulder, "we've cut the scene. You're done for now." He turned his attention away from Mulder and yelled, "Somebody get a doctor in here!" Mulder shook off his hand and struggled to his feet, grasping the man's arm in a crushing grip while his other hand still held the back of his head. "Where's Scully?" he repeated, his voice harsh and demanding an answer. His eyes searched the room, frantically moving from face to face. Trying to ignore his rising panic, he called her. "Scully!" "Mulder!" Turning, he saw her, standing in the doorway. Relief slammed into him and his eyes briefly slid shut. When he opened them, she was making her way across the room to him, her purposeful stride parting the crowd in her path. Her cool hands on his face immediately calmed Mulder. She was okay. She was Scully and she was here and everything was going to be okay. He felt faintly embarrassed at his outburst but she'd been taken from his side too many times for him to react in any other way than blind panic. He watched her as she quickly and professionally examined the wound that now was streaming blood and checked the dilation of his eyes. The rest of the world faded away as he inhaled deeply, her nearness surrounding him with her familiar scent. He felt his racing pulse slow to a steady, regular beat. "Are you all right, Mulder?" She spoke softly, so only he could hear. Looking away from the cut, she searched his eyes, her concern evident as she checked to make sure he was lucid. Mulder, acutely aware of everyone's eyes upon them, grasped her wrist and reluctantly pulled her hand away from his face. "I'm fine." Together, their attention turned to Chris, still standing just a few feet away who was staring at them, a confused frown on his face. "What's going on here?" Scully asked, the softness that had been in her voice a moment before gone, replaced by a tone of steel. "Who attacked Mulder and why are you filming this? Who allowed you in here?" Chris' jaw gaped and he appeared at a loss for an answer. The twin pair of eyes were disconcertingly piercing. "I'm sorry, I - hey, wait a minute! Cut it out, you guys! This isn't funny. David's been hurt!" He gestured to Mulder. "Who the hell is 'David'?" Scully said. "Come on, Gill," Chris said, exasperated, "this is ridiculous!" "And just who are you anyway?" Scully demanded. "Gill, it's me, Chris! What's wrong with you?" Mulder reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet and flashed his I.D. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder and this is Special Agent Dana Scully. I was knocked out a few minutes ago by someone I was pursuing. We need to know who allowed you and this group of people in the hospital and if you saw anything." At this pronouncement, the room became deathly quiet. Chris stepped closer and spoke so only Mulder and Scully would hear, anger evident in his voice. "Okay, fine. You guys want to play this game, that's fine with me. I really don't think the joke is funny. C'mon, let's go to my office and have a little chat." With that, he turned and stalked through the opening where the fourth wall had previously been. "That's a wrap, folks!" he called to the crew. At this, the people who had been watching the interaction with undisguised interest turned away and began pulling down lights and cameras as hushed conversations began. Mulder and Scully's eyes met. In mutual agreement, they turned to follow the retreating figure, uncomfortably aware of the furtive glances cast their way as they passed the crew. The sight that greeted their eyes as they stepped out of the would-be locker room caused them to stop in their tracks, their eyes wide in amazement. What should have been the hospital hallway, was now a large warehouse-like building. It had several different sets scattered throughout the dark expanse. With a start, Scully recognized the nearest one as the interior of her apartment. She tugged on Mulder's sleeve and gestured to the set. He nodded. "Mine's across from us." Scully looked and indeed saw what she knew to be Mulder's home, complete with couch, computer, fish tank and an "X" taped to the window. "So you wanna be in pictures, Scully?" Mulder quipped softly. "Mulder, where are we?" Scully asked, her eyes fixed on the elaborate recreations. "I don't know. But I think that guy - Chris - might help us figure that out." Scully nodded and they continued to the door through which they'd seen Chris disappear. They entered to find a large, dimly lit office complete with a deep mahogany desk nearly covered in papers and a bookcase filled almost to overflowing. Through the window behind the desk, Mulder and Scully could see the newly risen moon shining a dusky orange. A few scraggly plants were scattered around the room and a surfboard took up one corner. But what caught Mulder and Scully's attention was the only wall decoration in the room - a poster showing what appeared to be a flying saucer over a field of green with the words "I Want To Believe" written across the bottom. Chris sat behind the desk in a comfortably padded chair and gestured to the two matching chairs sitting against the opposite wall. "Pull up a chair." Mulder grasped the chairs and pulled them over in front of the desk. Chris began to speak as Mulder and Scully settled themselves, looking at each one in turn. "David, Gillian, listen I know it's been a long day and it's been a little stressful on the set," he began, "but I really think that kind of behavior has a time and place. You guys want to play jokes, that's fine. I have a sense of humor and don't mind. But the crew wants to get home and so should you. That kind of thing merely prolongs an already long working day." "We didn't mean to upset your...crew...," Scully said, her voice measured, "but Agent Mulder and I are in the middle of investigation and, to be quite frank, we could arrest you for obstruction of justice." Chris's jaw gaped. "Wait a second, this can't - no of course it isn't, you guys are playing a joke, right?" Mulder and Scully looked at each other, then back to Chris. Mulder answered, "No, we're not playing a joke." When Chris said nothing but continued to stare, Mulder continued. "Do you know who we are? Have you seen us before?" Chris shook his head, dumfounded. "This can't be happening. This *can't* be happening." Scully's eyebrow rose. "Um...Chris...we need to know exactly who you are and where we are. Are you going to cooperate?" Chris shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Forget it, this is ridiculous. I know this is probably hysterical to you guys, pulling one like this over on me but I've had enough. I'm getting more than a little angry about this and...." his voice trailed off as his eyes fixed on Scully's face. "And?" Scully prompted. Mulder looked over at Scully and saw what Chris saw - the blood beginning to stream from her nose. Realizing she was the object of the two men's attention, Scully started, "What is...-" Only then did she feel the slight tickle below her nose and hastily pressed her hand against it to quell the sudden bleeding. Mulder jumped up from his seat and crouched beside her, pulling a white handkerchief from his pocket. He didn't usually carry such an old-fashioned accessory but ever since Scully began having her nosebleeds due to the cancer, he'd taken to having one on-hand. She pressed the handkerchief to the crimson stain above her lip. "Are you okay?" Mulder questioned softy, his hand stroking her hair as the ominous blood still dripped from her nose. He felt physically ill at the reminder of the silent and deadly tumor that was slowly pushing its way into her skull. "I'm fine," Scully replied, brushing off his concern as a faint blush of embarrassment staining her pale cheeks. She dabbed quickly at the blood, praying it would stop and save her this humiliating scene. Chris was staring at them unabashedly, his mouth still open in shock. Mulder realized she was embarrassed so he returned to his seat and directed his attention to Chris, who was still staring at Scully. "Oh my god," he finally said, "you really are them, aren't you?" Scully had regained her composure and now looked at Chris quizzically. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I'm a television producer, writer and director," he said, excitement evident in his voice. "Four years ago I created a television program called The X-Files. The show revolves around two FBI agents who deal with cases of a more...unusual... nature. One is a believer, the other, a skeptic," he paused for a moment, trying to gauge their reaction to his words. He seemed to have captured their interest for the moment, if not their belief. He continued. "The believer is a brilliant psychologist. An Oxford graduate with a gift for profiling. His name is Fox Mulder. The skeptic is a medical doctor, originally assigned to the x-files division to debunk Mulder's work. Her name is Dana Scully." He stopped to allow them time to process what he was saying. "So what are you saying?" Scully asked. "You're saying we may not be in Kansas anymore," Mulder said grimly. Chris hesitated, then nodded. "You've *got* to be kidding." Scully looked from Mulder to Chris, then back to Mulder. "I think something happened while I was unconscious that brought us here," Mulder replied. "That's ridiculous, Mulder," Scully said with a shake of her head. "I was conscious the entire time and nothing happened out of the ordinary." "I can't explain *how* it happened, Scully, but it *would* explain the scene we had out there and what he's saying. Do you have a better theory?" Scully grudgingly shook her head, but she wasn't about to accept such a ridiculous notion so easily. Things like this didn't happen - they couldn't. "If what you're saying is correct, and that's a big *if*, then where are we and how did we get here?" "Can you help us answer that question, Chris?" "Well, your current locale is Vancouver, British Columbia," Chris responded. "As for how you got here, I have no idea. Nothing unusual happened during the filming." "And you said you 'created' the X-Files?" Mulder questioned, his tone skeptical. "If that's true, then what's real? Are we real and you're writing about us or are you real and we're merely products of your imagination?" "I don't know that either. Just like I don't know how we're going to get you back." Mulder and Scully looked at each other, their faces grim. "Then we'd better get to work finding out what did happen," Mulder said. They made to rise from their chairs to leave but Chris stopped them. "Wait, it's late and I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I'm guessing that whatever caused this is not going to happen again so soon - if at all. Let's just get you guys settled for the night and you can start fresh tomorrow. David and Gillian -" he paused awkwardly, "those are the names of the people who play you on the show." Mulder and Scully exchanged glances at this information. It all seemed so strange, unreal. To now have a name for the people they'd taken the place of was eerie. It unsettled them. "Anyway," Chris continued, "I think their trailers should work out for the night. We'll worry about better accommodations later." No one mentioned what everyone was trying to avoid thinking about - that they might be here more than one night. If Scully's exhaustion wasn't so obvious, Mulder might have put up more of a fight. But her skin was a pasty white and he could see her hands were trembling even though she tried to hide it. Whether it was from their situation or fatigue, he couldn't tell. He couldn't do anything about what had happened but he could damn well make sure she got some rest. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he said. ******************** Chris was walking towards a door to the far left of the building. Mulder's hand went to the small of Scully's back, allowing her to proceed ahead of him, then fell in step behind her. They were led through the building past the crew putting away equipment for the night. Not many people were chatting, just talking when it seemed absolutely necessary. Mulder got the feeling it had indeed been a long day and the uppermost thought on everyone's mind was going home. No one paid them any attention. As the exited the building, a blast of cold air hit them. It was easily twenty degrees colder here than it had been in Washington. Scully crossed her arms over her chest and gripped her arms, trying to shelter herself as much as she could from the biting wind. While Mulder had his coat on, she was just in her skirt and jacket. Just as an uncontrollable shiver was passing through her, she felt hands on her shoulders and started in surprise. "It's just me," Mulder said, bending near her ear. "Thought you might be cold." Scully then noticed he had taken off his overcoat and draped it lightly over her shoulders. She hesitated for a moment. "Thanks," she finally said, pulling the coat tightly around her. Now that she was a little warmer, Scully took in her surroundings. The had exited the building and were now crossing the pavement to where a group of trailers sat together. Off to her right, there were barricades set up as if to keep a crowd at bay. The "crowd" there at the moment consisted of two teenage girls huddled together on the ground bundled in coats, scarves, earmuffs and mittens. At the sight of Mulder, one of them screamed and jumped to her feet, frantically waving to get Mulder's attention. Mulder had been looking towards the trailers but, at the scream, his head snapped around as his hand went for his weapon. Scully grabbed his arm. "Take it easy, Mulder," she said softly, humor underlying her voice, "I don't think they're hostile." By now the other girl had also spotted Mulder and was on her feet. Together, they waved and shouted, "David! We love you, David!" Mulder relaxed his stance. "I always knew I had a fan club," he said dryly. Chris paused before one of the bigger trailers and said, "This is David's trailer. Mulder, you should be comfortable here for the night. I'll put Scully in Gillian's trailer." Mulder looked at Scully and hesitated, wanting to have a few moments alone with Scully and make sure she was okay. "I think I'll follow you to where you'll be putting Scully first." Chris looked at him, confused. "Really, it's just right over there." He pointed across the lot. Mulder felt a swell of irrational possessiveness and his eyes narrowed. "That's okay. I'll follow," he insisted. "Um, sure, okay," Chris finally said before turning and walking further into the mass of trailers. Together, they worked their way after Chris, carefully stepping over the thick cables that crisscrossed the pavement like elaborate webs. Finally, they stopped in front of another trailer almost identical to Mulder's. "This is Gillian's trailer." "Thanks," Mulder muttered. Scully didn't bother saying anything as she climbed the stairs to the door. The nosebleed had merely been the precursor for the headache pounding inside her skull and she desperately wanted to get a glass of water to take some of the pain medication her doctor had given her. The inside of the trailer was warm and inviting. A sofa, matching chair and an entertainment center stood in the middle area by the door. A TV, VCR and stereo occupied most of the entertainment center while videos and CDs took up the rest. To Mulder's right was a small kitchenette and dining area complete with a table for two. To his left was a short hallway leading to a door behind which he assumed was a bedroom. The colors of the walls and carpet were a soft ivory with touches of dark green, feminine but not overtly so. The television was on, its volume turned low, and Mulder could see one of the late night shows was on. Scully immediately veered to her left, towards the bathroom. "Where are you going?" Mulder asked. "I just need to take some medicine. I'll be back in a sec." She replied, stepping beyond the wall separating the bathroom and living area and moving out of earshot. Mulder and Chris stood quietly, staring after Scully. Chris broke the silence. "She really does have a tumor," he said softly, stricken. Mulder turned on him, unleashing his frustration and anxiety on an unsuspecting Chris. "Yes, she really does," he whispered harshly, "And it's killing her. She's dying -" his voice broke and his eyes locked with Chris'. Chris stared, dumbfounded, at the pain and torment he saw there. Mulder finally turned away, trying to regain his control before Scully returned. Chris was silent, watching Mulder jerk off his suit jacket and toss it carelessly aside. This was so incredibly difficult to believe. He didn't doubt for a minute, though, that it wasn't very real. He was in the business of making people believe in the magic and sleight of hand of film - and that nosebleed had been neither. Though Mulder's vehemence surprised him. Even though he'd written the reaction David would give to Scully having cancer - to see it in reality was entirely different. Here, hearts didn't stop breaking when the cameras stopped rolling. Scully returned from the kitchen and headed to the couch where Mulder had landed, sprawled back against the cushions with his long legs stretched out in front of him. She lightly perched beside him, crossing her legs and smoothing her jacket down over her pants before folding her hands in her lap. Chris stared at her. Scully's appearance was alarming to him. Gillian had had to lose weight progressively for the past few weeks to simulate the appearance of being sick, much like Tom Hanks had done in "Philadelphia." So now she was very thin, but still looked healthy off-camera. This Scully was painfully thin and obviously ill. Dark circles appeared as angry bruises beneath her eyes on delicate skin which was alarmingly pale. Make-up artists on the set had created that look for Gillian, but Chris was brought up short by the reality that this Scully was indeed dying. The thought sobered him. He was amazed that she had the strength to sit there, she looked so frail, like she might crumble under the cruel weight of the cancer. But it was her eyes that finally captivated him. They were a clear blue, shining from the light of sheer will. In her eyes he saw the strength he had endeavored to instill in Gillian's character, and was heartened by it. She exuded a pull on him that was almost tangible in its potency. He felt vaguely jealous of Mulder, gifted with such a woman as this by his side. And he had a brief glimpse of why Mulder was devoted to protecting her. Mulder felt Scully sitting beside him so serenely. It calmed him. She had the unerring ability to be his anchor, his eye of the storm. A soft smile curved his lips until the thought rose, unbidden, in his mind - But what will you be when she's gone? A pain twisted inside him so suddenly and swiftly that he wanted to gasp. Instead, his jaw clenched and he abruptly turned to Chris, who was staring unabashedly at Scully. Mulder felt jealousy rear its head. How dare he stare at Scully like she's some kind of science project. "If you can stop staring, I think we should start comparing notes on what happened," Mulder snapped, dragging Chris' attention back to him. Chris shook himself out of his trance. His face flamed at being caught. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "just caught up in my own little world." "Yeah, well so are we," Mulder retorted. Scully quieted Mulder with a hand on his thigh. "Let's just start at the beginning, shall we?" Scully said. "I think the first thing we should find out is what happens first, this timeline or ours." Mulder nodded, then turned to Chris. "What was being filmed when we... arrived?" Chris sank slowly into the chair opposite Mulder and Scully, sitting side-by-side on the couch. He noticed that Mulder didn't move far from her even now that she was feeling better. He hovered in a semblance of fierce protection, her smallness and fragility accentuated by his nearness. "We were filming an episode called 'Small Potatoes', written by one of my staff members, Vince Gilligan," he said. "Mulder and Scu -" he paused, "I mean...you...came to investigate because five babies born recently all had vestigial tails. The part we were filming immediately before your...arrival...was when you were looking in the locker room for Eddie. He was hiding in the ceiling and came crashing down on top of you. It wasn't supposed to knock you out, but it did." Scully spoke up first. "Well, that still doesn't answer our question of who's writing our lives - you or us. Nor does it help explain how we got here." She sighed in frustration, a hand brushing across her eyes. Mulder stared intently at her for a moment, noticing the fatigue around her eyes and her pallor. He then said to Chris, "Why don't we call it a night like you suggested. We can talk some more tomorrow." "Sure, that sounds good. Can I get you guys anything before I leave? I don't stay on the set - I have a house in town." "No," Mulder replied, "we'll be okay. Thanks." "Okay, well, if you do need anything, here is my home number. Just give me a call if you need me," he held out a business card. Mulder took the proffered card but before Chris could step out the door, Scully said, "Wait! Aren't there any scenes or something tomorrow we should help you out with? I don't know a lot about making a television show, but I'd think you have some kind of deadline or something for making an episode each week." Chris hesitated, then replied, "You're right, I do have a deadline to meet." Mulder protested immediately. "Scully, forget it. You're not up to that." Chris agreed, "He's right...Scully." Her name sounded strange on his tongue. He had never called her anything but Gillian or Gill. "I'll just do some rewriting and we'll do an episode about the Lone Gunmen or Skinner or something." What he didn't mention was how he'd be up the rest of the night churning out a new script and how they'd be busting their asses to get it filmed in time. "Don't be ridiculous," Scully said, "I'm fine. Now, where's the script?" Chris opened his mouth to object again, but quickly realized he would lose the battle. He reluctantly went to the kitchen and brought back a folder on which was written "Small Potatoes - Episode 4X20." "Here," he said. "There's a couple of copies in there. Tomorrow we'll be filming the final three scenes - 17, 18 and 19. I'll send someone to your trailers for you when you need to get into make-up - probably around 7:00 a.m. There's not too many lines so you should be okay. Also, I think it would be best that this whole - situation - remained our little secret for a while. Agreed?" "That sounds like a good idea," Scully said. "What are their names again?" "David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson." "David," Scully repeated softy, as if testing the name. She smiled. "Hey, Mulder, I finally get to call you by a first name." He grimaced. "I think I prefer 'Fox.'" Scully chuckled lightly. "See you tomorrow," Chris said, and walked out the door, leaving Mulder and Scully alone. As soon as the door shut, Scully fell back against the couch cushions, laying her head back as her eyes closed. Mulder watched her, concerned. She just looked so tired. He lightly touched her cheek, his fingers barely grazing her skin. She opened her eyes, watching him. She could see the pain and worry in his eyes. "I'm okay, Mulder. Just tired," she reassured him with a gentle smile, tentatively taking his hand at her face and squeezing softly. "Scully -" he began, but stopped. He wanted to help her. He'd do anything she wanted, fetch any remedy, jump through any hoop, anything if it would help her. The bitch of it was there wasn't anything he *could* do. At least, not here. She couldn't die - he wouldn't let her. As long as he kept searching for her cure, she wouldn't die. "I'd better go," he said, abruptly dropping her hand as he stood to leave, reaching for his coat. The familiar sinking feeling came over Scully and her stomach turned over. He'd been about to say something, she was sure of it. But had stopped. Why? Was she cursed to live like this until the cancer robbed her of what life remained? Would Mulder be off on a fruitless search to find a cure for her when death came? Would he ever face the truth that time was running out for her, for them? The questions hammered at her until tears began to sting her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut - she would not let him see her cry. The last thing she wanted to do was resort to the old tired cliche of a weepy woman crying on his shoulder. Mulder glanced at Scully as he shrugged into his coat. Her eyes were tightly closed, as if in pain. His helplessness overwhelming him, he grabbed a copy of the script, turned and left. The cold air wafting through the door caused Scully's eyes to snap open in time to see the door close behind him. The pain knotting inside her stomach increased tenfold and she laid down on the couch, drawing her knees up until she was as small as possible. Cradling a throw pillow to her chest, she sank into a troubled sleep as tears slipped out of her eyes and fell, unheeded, onto the fabric of the couch. ********** Mulder jogged across the parking lot to David's trailer. It had begun to rain and by the time he got to the trailer, water was pouring freely from his hair and coat. Inside the trailer, he shed his coat and shoes, both oozing water, by the door before turning to study the interior. Inside, it was dark and quiet. A single lamp on a table beside an overstuffed black couch was the only light. Mulder made his way past the couch to the door which he assumed was the bathroom. The layout was very much like Scully's trailer except the decor more masculine, the colors leaning towards a predominance of black and burgundy. He quickly found a towel and began drying his hair. Heading into the bedroom, he flipped on the overhead light. Inside the bedroom was a double bed heaped with pillows. It looked soft and inviting, but Mulder knew he'd opt for the couch instead. He thought he should feel uncomfortable here, like an unwelcome intruder delving into someone else's privacy. But the only thing that made him uneasy was the thought that David was very likely intruding into Mulder's own apartment at that very moment. He cringed at the thought of two actors trying to pull off the real thing as FBI agents. He just hoped they didn't get themselves killed - then what would happen to him and Scully? Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, he continued his explorations. Opening the small closet, he found a pair of well-worn jeans and a gray t-shirt. Glad to shed his sodden clothing, he quickly donned the other man's garments. They fit perfectly. In the kitchen, he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and stretched out on the couch, script in hand. After taking a long swig from the can, he started reading.... *********** It was amazing. It was all here. Every word, every nuance, everything they had done or said over the past few days. Scully sat, stunned, on the couch. Having woken up after a few hours and unable to go back to sleep, she'd begun to read the script Chris had given them. Although she had known this was real, to see it all there, in black and white, staggered her and questions spun in her mind. The uppermost one being, how? Fascinated, she kept reading. She read through the scene where Mulder broke Eddie Van Blundht Senior's tail - ah ha! He did break it, she thought with a grin - and Mulder left to head to the hospital. Thanking her lucky stars this was a script and therefore did not include her thoughts as well as her words, she read Mulder's encounter with Amanda Nelligan. Or rather, Eddie Van Blundht's encounter with Amanda while he was pretending to be Mulder. Scully's eyes widened in shock. Oh no, she thought she could see where this was heading. Reading faster, she sped through where Eddie attacks Mulder in the locker room. The next scene confirmed her fears. Eddie locked Mulder up and assumed his identity. "No...." she breathed, her eyes wide as she read on. How could she not realize that wasn't Mulder? Leaving a case without apprehending the suspect? Especially when Mulder had already voiced his theory that Van Blundht could change his appearance into anyone. Of course you wouldn't know, her mind whispered, because you never believe any of his theories. It never occurred to you that he might be correct. Quashing the guilt she felt, she read further.... ************* Mulder felt a glimmer of satisfaction that his theory had been correct - Van Blundht *could* assume another person's form. Though the fact that he had let Van Blundht kick his ass and assume *his* form was a bit humiliating. But he was in no way prepared for what Van Blundht did next. Disguised as Mulder, Van Blundht appeared outside Scully's door with a bottle of wine and the obvious intention of seducing her as he had those other women. He sat up in shock. He made himself read on through the scene, terrified of what he thought was going to happen. Pain flared in his gut at Scully's line and he winced. "What do you mean like...really talk? No, no we don't, Mulder." Was that true? It couldn't be. They talked, all the time in fact. But about what? Mulder's theories, government conspiracies, lies covering the truth. In a sinking moment, he realized the script was right. He couldn't remember a time when he had sat down with Scully and just talked with her, listened to her stories, her memories, her hopes and dreams. That has to change, he vowed. Reading on, he realized that Scully was tipsy in the scene, Van Blundht refilling her glass until the wine was gone then leaning in to kiss her. Relief flooded through him when the "real" Mulder crashes through the door, interrupting the moment. Mulder didn't think he'd actually be grateful for this absurd twist of fate that had brought them here, but he was. At least here, he could protect her from that psycho Van Blundht. Here, nothing was real. Not the conspiracy, the lies, the aliens, nothing. Except the cancer. He glanced at the clock - 5 hours until showtime. What scenes did Chris say they needed to do yet? Seventeen, eighteen and nineteen. Mulder knew TV shows and movies often filmed out of sequence so he had no idea which scenes were left. He flipped pages until he reached scene seventeen, eighteen and nineteen. He felt his breath catch in his chest when he realized they were the scenes in Mulder's office, his apartment and...Scully's apartment. ******** Scully's heart skipped a beat. They were going to have to do the scene in her apartment. They were going to have to kiss! Correction - they would *almost* kiss. The real Mulder interrupts by kicking in the door. It figures, she thought with chagrin. Her one chance of actually kissing Mulder without jeopardizing their friendship or partnership. Shot to hell. Thanks to Chris and Mulder's, as usual, impeccable timing. A short, wry, humorless laugh escaped her. How fitting for them both, really, that it should *almost* happen. With a sigh, she set the script on the table beside the couch and went back to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light. She briefly thought about trying to find a nightgown in the small closet, but the feeling of invading someone else's personal things was too strong. Instead, she stripped off her suit, hose and bra, letting them fall to the floor in a heap instead of neatly folding them as she usually did. She then climbed under the covers in just her panties. It felt a little strange, but she was too tired to care. Barely had her head touched the pillow before her exhaustion overcame her and she was sound asleep. ************ 6:30 a.m. Mulder woke from a nightmare with a start, sitting bolt upright on the couch in a blind panic at the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. A split second later, the previous day's events came flooding back. He groaned and fell back against the couch. Looking at his watch, he remembered what Chris said about sending someone at 7 a.m. He'd better grab a shower before they got here. If he hurried, maybe he'd have a chance to see Scully before they were separated. He raced through the process of cleaning up - nicking his face several times in an effort to speed along the process of shaving. Approximately fifteen minutes later - a personal best - he was walking across the lot to Scully's trailer, clad in similar attire as the evening before only a white T-shirt instead of gray. Reaching her trailer door, he knocked lightly. When no one answered, he knocked a bit harder. "Scu - Gillian," he caught himself just in time as he called her name, he quickly checked to see if anyone was nearby. Again, no answer. Starting to get concerned, he knocked as hard as he could and waited. When no answer came again, he tried twisting the door handle. Surprisingly, it opened. Panic flared in him. How could she leave it unlocked! She knows better than that! You know better than that, he thought, you were the one to leave her alone last night. In an instant in was inside the trailer, noting that the television was still turned on. "Scully?" he called. Silence. His hand went to where his holster normally would be, forgetting that, not wanting to arouse any suspicion, he'd left it in his own trailer. Glancing around, he spotted her gun on the table near the door. Checking to see it was loaded, he eased off the safety. Cautiously, he made his way back to the bedroom, checking the bathroom along the way. Finding no one, he slowly pushed open the bedroom door, expecting someone to jump at him. Nothing happened. He stepped into the room and looked around. No one was here. So intent was he on looking for an intruder, he almost missed the diminutive form curled amidst a pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the bed. Scully. He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and felt his heart rate immediately slow from its frantic pumping. He quietly moved closer to her, a small, tender smile curving his lips. She looked so peaceful. Her brow was clear of the usual lines of stress and worry that often clouded it, her breathing even and deep, indicating to him how tired she must have been to still be sleeping so soundly after the racket he'd made. She must not have heard because the bedroom door had been closed, he mused. He froze at the sound of her sleepy sigh, realizing that him being in her bedroom when she woke was *not* a good idea. He stayed absolutely still as she shifted in the bed, turning from her side to her back. As she did so, the covers slipped from her shoulders to display naked shoulders and the creamy white tops of her breasts. Mulder's eyes widened. He had *not* figured on Scully being one who slept in the nude. The revelation was one he would have enjoyed more if he was not desperately hoping she would not wake up to find him gaping at her. To his immense relief, she did not waken and soon her breathing was as even and deep as before. Mulder allowed himself to relax. Now he'd better get the hell out of here before *they* came to get her and she kicked his ass. He turned to leave, then stopped. Just one more look, his mind begged. He dared one last glance back at her, wanting to freeze this image in his mind. He had dreamed of seeing her like this for a long, long time. *His* Scully, her hair tousled and streaming like fire on the white pillowcases, softly rounded arms askew in the carelessness of sleep, one over her head, the other thrown out to the side, her mouth parted slightly in her sleep. Mulder felt desire flare in him for this incredible woman who, even in slumber, still had the ability to render him incapable of coherent thought. The blankets moved slightly with her breathing. Mulder found his eyes inexorably drawn to her breasts, partially in view above the sheets. As he watched, unable to tear his eyes away, the blankets began to slip down a little more with each breath she took. If he waited just a few moments longer... The sound of loud knocking made him nearly jump out of his skin. "Ms. Anderson?" a voice called. Damn! Frantic, he turned in time to see Scully waken with a start at the noise and sit straight up in bed, the covers falling and baring her to the waist. Oh shit. Scully's eyes were wide and staring straight into his. "Mulder! What's wrong? What are you doing here?" Scully asked, seemingly unaware of her lack of clothing. "Um, I..." Mulder fumbled, then cleared his throat. Against his will, Mulder found his eyes slowly drifting downward from Scully's eyes to her throat - he could see her pulse rapidly beating there - then lower, past her shoulders to her breasts, fully exposed to his hungry gaze. They were beautiful, perfect. Small, but full and rounded, contrasting sharply with her tiny ribcage and waist. He felt his body respond at the same moment Scully realized her predicament. Scully's eyebrows flew upward as she finally became aware of her nakedness. She felt the blood rush to her face. Her embarrassment was so strong, she felt she had been made of stone. She couldn't move a muscle. Her throat constricted and, in spite of herself, her breathing grew faster causing her breasts to rise and fall even more rapidly. It wasn't as if no man had seen her naked before, but this was *Mulder*. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know what to feel. She just sat there, immobile, like a deer caught in headlights. Mulder's eyes drank in the sight of her, bared before his eyes. Her alabaster skin flushed at his gaze, her eyes a bright, clear blue, unblinking, staring into his. His fingers ached to touch her. Without consciously making the decision to move, he stepped close to the bed. He reached out his hand, acutely aware of everything around him - her smell, sweet and slightly musky, which permeated the air, the soft sound of their rapid breathing, even the sound of the blood rushing in his veins. She didn't move, her eyes still locked on his, taking in every move he made. Softly and ever so slowly, as if the slightest wrong move would send her flying from him, he touched her hair, tucking it gently behind one curved ear. The fire of her hair was so radiant, he expected it to burn his hand. Instead, it felt like cool silk in his fingers. His hand dropped lower, caressing her cheek. Her skin felt like smooth porcelain under his fingers, but warm and vibrant. Then she did something amazing. Her eyes closed and she nuzzled her cheek and lips into his hand, softly kissing his palm. The electricity from her touch shot straight to his groin. "Scully," he managed to choke out through a suddenly dry mouth. She hesitated for a moment, then opened her eyes to find his burning with fierce emotion, darkened by desire. Her breath caught in her chest and her heart pounded. She froze, waiting to see what he would do next. Another knock, this one sounding even more impatient, sounded at the door. "Damn!" Mulder cursed, casting an angry glare towards the door. He looked back at Scully and saw the panic in the way she averted her eyes from him as she made a grab for the blanket to cover herself. He cupped her chin in his palm and forced her eyes to his. "I'll be right back," he said firmly, "don't go anywhere." He waited until he felt her grudging acquiescence. Watching Mulder leave the room, reality crashed in on Scully, shaking her out of the almost hypnotic state Mulder had had on her. She mentally berated herself, burying her face in her hands. This is ridiculous, she thought. How could you just sit here naked, practically throwing yourself at him? She could admit how much she loved him and desired him, but having that kind of physical intimacy would come at a price she was not willing to pay: their working relationship, trust and mutual respect. An anguished moan left her lips. But it was still so hard to stop wanting, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself it wouldn't work. But a small voice whispered insider her head, Mulder had touched her, finally. His hand on her face had felt so...right. She hadn't been able to resist turning into that callused hand softly stroking her hair, her cheek, her lips. She closed her eyes and briefly savored the moment, her hand touching her face where his had caressed her. But as much as she wished it were different, the reality of the situation was screaming inside her head. What must he think of her? How was she ever going to look him in the eye again? Absently, she heard Mulder talking to someone at the door. Looking at the clock beside the bed, she realized it was 7:00. She was late. She would have to put off dealing with what had just happened until later. She quickly jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door and disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door soundly after her and locking it. Mulder shut the front door practically on the nose of the make-up girl he'd been speaking with. She was a nosy, irritating woman in a ponytail who constantly smacked her gum. She'd looked surprised to see him answer the door. "Gillian's on her way. She's running a bit late this morning," he told her by way of explanation. "Aaaaah," she said, in a long drawn-out nasal whine, her eyebrows lifting. She tried to peer behind him into the interior of the trailer, but he smoothly blocked her field of vision. "She'll be along soon," he reiterated. Then promptly shut the door in her face. He walked back through the trailer in time to hear the shower start up in the bathroom. He cursed again. He briefly entertained the thought of bursting into the bathroom and sweeping Scully into his arms but dismissed it with a humorless laugh. Somehow he doubted she'd appreciate that. This morning was not going at all the way he'd planned, he thought as he sank into the couch. More like it was spiraling out of control. The image of Scully's sweet body danced before his closed eyes. The kiss she had pressed into his palm still burned and he clenched his fist as if to imprint it on his skin. "Now what?" he thought. Why had she run away from him? She hadn't seemed that upset at him seeing her like that, in fact, she had seemed to enjoy his scrutiny. "*That* can't be right," he thought, shaking his head, "not Scully." There's a lot about your partner you don't know, he thought to himself, maybe she felt the same way about him as he did her. No, he decided quickly, it was dangerous to start thinking that way, to start hoping. Life was just not *that* good to Fox Mulder. She probably hadn't been fully awake enough to realize what was happening, he decided. When she did, though, she was probably going to be furious with him for taking advantage of her like that. And why did he do that anyway? Why hadn't he turned away as he should have done? Because as much as you try to kill it, that hope still remains, hope that one day Scully will take you in her arms and whisper how much she loves you, his thoughts answered. That will never happen, he ruthlessly quenched the small voice. You can't let her get to you; you have to keep her at arm's length. The pain of the separation is much easier to bear than her rejection. He would have to stay controlled around her, another scene like that would shred the fragile walls he'd constructed and he'd be reduced to his knees, begging for her affection, her love. Mulder was interrupted from his thoughts by yet another knock at the door. Gillian must be one popular gal, he thought ruefully before going to pull open the door. Chris stood on the step before him. "Hey," he said with a small smile. "Candi just told me Gillian wasn't ready yet so I got a bit worried. Everything okay?" "Everything's fine." Both men turned to see Scully standing before them clad in jeans and a sweater, hair still wet from the shower. She didn't look at Mulder, instead directing her words to Chris. "I was just about done getting ready," she said, "I just need to do my hair and throw on some make-up." "Don't bother," Chris said, "Make-Up and Wardrobe will take care of you. C'mon, let's go." He went through the door, Scully following closely while studiously avoiding Mulder's eyes, her eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. Mulder felt his heart constrict. He'd hurt her, made her cry. He was such a selfish bastard. He should have been thinking of how to protect her from himself. She deserved so much better than him. How the hell does she find the patience to put up with him constantly violating her, now having violated her in the most private way? She's an angel and your savior, that's why, his thoughts whispered. Mulder tried to think of something to say, something to do that could make it up to her. "Scully," he began. She turned slowly toward him, not quite lifting her eyes to his but staring at some point beyond his shoulder. "Yes?" she replied, her voice very quiet. "I'm...sorry," Mulder said, then cursed himself for the trite expression. Couldn't come up with anything more original, eh, Mulder? Scully remained silent. He was turning down her unspoken invitation, telling her he wasn't interested, albeit as gently as possible. A knot formed inside her stomach - she hadn't known it would hurt this much. She steeled herself against the pain and made her face an expressionless mask. There was no way she was going to let him see how he was hurting her, he'd only feel worse and she would not have him pitying her. That's all she needed, him having sex with her because he felt sorry for her. The poor girl needs one last pity-fuck before she's dead, the thought reverberated, burning her like acid. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. Then quickly turned and headed after Chris, already halfway across the lot. Mulder stared after her, aghast. She'd barely responded to him but she hadn't seemed too furious to speak, either. That only left one option, he thought. He'd hurt her too badly for her to forgive him and pretend nothing had happened. He followed her across the lot, despair seeping through him at the damage, perhaps permanent, he'd wreaked on their relationship, on her trust. Scully gaped at herself in the mirror. She usually was not a vain person but - she looked fantastic! The make-up designer, Joel, had had a fit about her eyebrows, seemingly amazed at how quickly they'd grown and how unshaped they were. Scully didn't know whether to be insulted or amazed as he proceeded to pluck and fuss over her. She only interfered once and that was when he tried to cover her beauty mark above her lip. As adamant as he was, she refused to let him cover it. She was not going to change or hide what she was so she looked better in front of a camera. The figure that gradually appeared before her eyes was completely different from what she normally saw staring back at her every day. Her freckles, which she normally didn't pay much attention to in her daily make-up routine, were nowhere to be seen. Her eyes and lips seemed to stand out in her face and appear larger than she knew them to be. Her eyes looked more blue, her lips, more red and full. The foundation and base were caked on and she felt like she was wearing a mask but she had to admit, Joel knew what he was doing. She felt slightly betrayed by her hair, which had responded to Joel's ministrations like it never had to hers. It lay perfectly about her shoulders, framing her face in a soft sweep. She absently wondered how Mulder was faring. Chris had led them to the make-up and wardrobe areas, dropping her off in Hair and Make-Up even as he dragged Mulder off to Wardrobe. Scully had to repress a chuckle as she imagined Mulder's reaction to having to wear make-up. "Okay, Gill," Joel said, "you're all done. Clarissa is waiting for you in Wardrobe. Not a big hurry today since your scene is last." Scully pondered that even as she tried to become more accustomed to being called "Gill" and "Gillian." She hadn't had any close calls, but she hadn't had to interact with many people yet. She figured her best bet was to just act like herself and not say too much. She hoped Mulder had come to the same conclusion. If she hurried, maybe she'd be able to catch Mulder filming his scenes. She walked in the general direction of where she'd seen Chris take Mulder earlier, trying to appear as if she knew where she was going. She was starting to get worried when she ran into Mulder - literally. He had changed, or been changed, into a suit like the one he'd had on yesterday. But this one was much nicer, the fabric soft and supple, accentuating the gray in his eyes and making them appear dark, smoky, mysterious. His eyes fell on her and her throat constricted. She had to act normal, as if nothing had happened this morning, as if her heart hadn't died inside. "Scully!" he said in a hoarse stage whisper, his panic momentarily blinding him to the pain on her face as he pulled her behind a rack of clothing. "You've gotta get me out of here! They're going to put make-up on me!" He said the words "make-up" as if they were poison to his tongue, his brow wrinkling in distaste. Despite herself, Scully snickered, hiding her grin behind her hand. Mulder, seeing her smile, tentatively smiled back. Shoving thoughts of their encounter this morning to the back of her mind, Scully briefly related her experience with Joel. "I feel like I have an inch of make-up on," she said ruefully, "but not over my beauty mark," she amended. "What? This one?" Mulder asked, his finger grazing along her upper lip, lightly touching the offending mark. Scully's breath caught and held at the brush of his skin on her lip. She'd never realized he'd noticed. She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing to each other, Mulder's face was mere inches away. Scully abruptly cleared her throat and stepped away from Mulder. What was wrong with her? He's always in a suit, that's no reason to go gaga over him, she chastised herself. "I have to get into wardrobe now," she blurted out before turning away and heading to where a group of women were gathered, talking softly and discreetly glancing their way. She didn't turn, but felt Mulder's eyes on her as she started talking to the women. It turned out one of them was indeed the Clarissa who had been waiting for her. She led Scully to a changing room, toting an armload of clothes. Scully cast a surreptitious glance where Mulder had been standing, but he was gone. *********************** About an hour later, Scully emerged from wardrobe. They had outfitted her in everything from panties and bra to the watch she wore. Scully had had to think quickly to explain why she was wearing the exact same cross as Wardrobe kept for Gillian. She had fed them some line about liking it so much she had went and bought one for herself. They seemed to accept that. Who knows? Maybe that's something Gillian would do. Scully was just glad that, so far, the people she'd had to meet were more interested in making her feel like a life-size Barbie than chatting with her. Following the sounds of an occasional shout and the hum of voices, she found the main filming area. She recognized the sets she and Mulder had seen yesterday when they had "arrived." They were currently filming the scene in Mulder's apartment. Another make-up woman that Scully recognized from her time there this morning was refreshing Mulder's make-up. He appeared to be taking it stoically, eyes staring forward while she worked. A few people cast smiles in her direction and said hello, but overall they were more preoccupied with filming the scene than paying attention to her. Scully, grateful that Mulder had not yet noticed her presence, sank back into the shadows to watch. "Okay, people, let's get it this time!" Scully looked over and saw Chris sitting in a chair beside the man who was yelling. He hadn't seen her either. "Lights! Camera! Action!" The sudden silence surprised Scully as everyone fell still except the cameraman. Mulder started to speak. "Where the hell do I sleep?" he asked no one in particular, then walked over to feed the fish. He pressed the button on the answering machine while picking up a basketball to dribble. Scully recognized Langly's disembodied voice emanating from the machine. "Geeks for friends," Mulder muttered as Langly's message ended. The next voice, breathy and female, caused Scully a moment of panic until she realized that it was a phone sex operator. Scully watched as Mulder walked to the mirror. He pulled out his badge. "FBI. F...B...I." Scully grinned as he turned the badge right-side up. "FBI. You looking at me? There ain't nobody else here, you must be lookin' at me. You want a piece of this?" He grabbed for his gun and Scully choked back a laugh as the clip fell to the floor. Mulder was pretty good at this, she had to admit. "You're a damn good lookin' man." He eyed himself in the mirror as the gun twirled on his finger. "Cut! Print!" Mulder sighed in relief. He had never realized how exhausting a cting was. He'd done two very short scenes, but they had taken all morning. It was hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. The lights were extremely hot and he could feel sweat pooling on his chest and back under the suit and tie. Suddenly, Chris was there beside him. "That was great," he said in a low voice. "You sure you're not really an actor?" Mulder just fixed him with a look. Chris laughed. "Your and Scully's scene is next. While we get set up for that, why don't you go find her and rehearse. There are some rehearsal rooms along the perimeter of the building." Mulder nodded, loosening his tie. "How long do we have?" he asked. "About an hour," he said. "Then we'll break for a quick lunch, then film. Hopefully we'll be done by 3:00." Scully jumped about a foot as two hands come down on each of her shoulders and turned her. "What are you doing over here?" It was Krycek. Scully's eyes went wide and, without thinking, her hand went for her gun -- only belatedly realizing it wasn't there. Oh, God! Where was Mulder! Krycek still had hold of her, his hands clasping her shoulders. "What are you doing here?" Scully demanded, her voice a snarl as hatred filled her eyes. "What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? I'm here for the meeting later today that Chris is having." At her blank look, he continued, "Remember? It's about the season finale and Season 5." He looked questioningly at her and slowly the rage that clouded Scully's eyes cleared and she took a good look at him. He was wearing his customary jeans and a T-shirt but something about his face made her pause. It was his eyes. They were...different. Scully had looked into Krycek's eyes before and seen only a coldness that had chilled her to the bone. These eyes were different, warm and alive. And he looked as if he was waiting for her to answer him, a confused smile on his face. Scully had never seen Krycek smile. Ever. To her horror, she suddenly realized who he was. He wasn't Krycek at all, merely the actor who had the misfortune to play him. Of course! How could she have forgotten so quickly! She had just been completely unprepared for this type of meeting. Intellectually, she had known there would be people she knew on the set, only they were now actors rather than the people themselves. But she had not been counting on Krycek being one of them. She suddenly wondered who else she might run into. "C'mon, Gill," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her over to where Mulder and Chris were talking, "you and David should be rehearsing your big scene." Scully stiffly allowed herself to be led, trying not to let the strangeness of having Krycek's body pressed so tightly next to hers affect her. She had always been aware of her small stature, but rarely had she felt it more acutely than she did now as other concerns kept her from freeing herself. She couldn't make a scene, not if she and Mulder were going to pull off this charade. She wordlessly allowed herself to be dragged by "Krycek," trying not to seem as repelled by his touch as she felt. Mulder glanced away from Chris in time to see Scully being towed toward them. His eyes widened as he saw just who had his arm so tightly around his partner. Chris turned to see what had captured Mulder's attention. Shit! He quickly reached out a hand and grabbed Mulder's arm. "It's okay," he said, "don't flip out on me." Mulder didn't hear him. His hands had clenched into fists and his face was white with rage. He was momentarily stunned motionless by Krycek's audacity at putting his hands on Scully. Pure, animal instinct filled him and he longed to kill him with his bare hands. Chris knew he had to do something, and fast. He grabbed Mulder by the shoulders and turned him so he was looking at him instead of the approaching Scully and "Krycek." "Mulder, that isn't really Krycek. You *have* to hear me. That is not Krycek -- he's not going to hurt her." Mulder's eyes slowly focused on Chris', comprehension dawning. "Then who is it?" he asked, his voice trembling with repressed fury. "His name is Nick -- he's just an actor, Mulder. He's not the real thing. You have to remember that." Just then, Krycek and Scully arrived. "Hey, David, shouldn't you and Gill be rehearsing? I found her hiding behind some cameras - surely the idea of having to kiss you isn't that unappealing," he grinned good-naturedly. "Maybe she'd be more willing to kiss me instead." He waggled his eyebrows at them. Then, to Scully's horror, he pulled her to his chest and forced her chin upwards as if for a kiss. Scully frantically tried to free herself. For all she knew, this may be a regular occurrence here for...Gill...but appearances or no, there was no way Krycek, or even just someone who looked like him, was going to kiss her if she had anything to say about it. But his hold on her was too tight and her squirming only made him squeeze tighter. Mulder watched Scully's vain attempts to free herself and struggled to contain the impulse to react violently to Krycek's hands on her. The thought of Krycek's lips on Scully's made him physically ill. "Try it and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do," he bit out, his voice menacing. Nick froze in shock, his mouth a hair's breadth away from Scully's. Mulder reached for Scully's arm and pulled her from Nick's grasp to stand beside him. "Let us know when you're ready for us," he told Chris. With that, he placed his hand on Scully's back and guided her away, leaving Nick to stare slack-jawed after them. "He's just on edge," Chris offered to Nick, relieved that they'd avoided a potentially dangerous sitation. Scully's relief was palpable, but she was acutely embarrassed that she hadn't been able to handle the situation herself. "Why do I feel like a prize you just won?" Scully muttered to Mulder. "I dunno but I've got a *huge* testosterone rush going on here. Is there something nearby I can hunt?" Mulder joked back. Scully rolled her eyes. She'd never admit it, but it had been quite interesting to see Mulder's reaction to another man kissing her. It would be even more interesting to see if any man could solicit the same reaction or if it had just been the thought of it being Krycek that set him off. "So, where are we going?" she asked. "Chris said we should rehearse and memorize our lines for the final scene," he replied evenly. "We have about an hour." Scully tried to still the butterflies that took flight in her stomach at those words, but was unsuccessful. This is absurd, she thought, we don't even kiss. "But what if we did," said the traitorous voice inside her head, "you could always - slip." She quickly quenched that thought as they arrived at a door. It had "Rehearsal Room 3" printed on it in large, white letters. Ever the gentlemen, Mulder opened the door for her and allowed her to enter. A few feet away, unnoticed by Mulder and Scully, a man watched them disappear into the room. ********************** Inside, the room was rather small and contained a couple of chairs, a sofa, a lamp as well as an overhead light and a couple of plants. It had a generic feel to it that was accentuated by the fact that there were no windows. The walls were solid. Soundproof, Scully thought. "You have your copy of the script?" Mulder asked as he threw his jacket on a chair, his tie quickly following. Scully nodded. She didn't trust her voice at the moment. Her nervousness had increased despite her attempts to think rationally. "Well," Mulder said, "I guess we should just read through it first," he paused, taking up a position just in front of the door. "I just came in the door - go ahead," he prompted. Scully cleared her throat. "Mulder, what's up?" she read. "Scully? Is this a bad time?" "No. No, uh...come on in. Who's that for?" "Uh...us." "This feels wrong, Mulder," Scully said, stopping the scene. "It feels really awkward." "I think it's supposed to be, Scully," Mulder replied. "Are you sure?" Scully asked. "We have to pull this off, you know." Mulder nodded. He hesitated, then said, "I think it's supposed to be a little awkward because - I've never just shown up at your place before just to talk to you." Scully felt a pain in her stomach at the truth of his words. The question 'Why haven't you?' echoed so loudly in her head she was surprised he couldn't hear it. She quickly looked back down at the script, blinking back the sudden tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Okay. Have a seat," she read. Mulder crossed to the couch and sat down. "So uh...what are you working on?" he said. "More autopsy data. You know, everyone at the lab found Mr. Van Blundht pretty fascinating. We discovered an additional anomaly related to the hair follicles in his scalp. I can't even begin to guess at the nature of it until we can run it through the transmission electron microscope." "Sounds very interesting." Scully, following the script directions, came and sat near him on the couch. "Yes, it is. So seriously Mulder, what's going on? You okay?" She had to admit, it was eerie how the script was echoing exactly what she would say if given the same situation with Mulder. She wouldn't think for a minute he was just there to hang out, something would have to be wrong for him to just show up at her door. "I was just kind of knocking around, I was just thinking...we never really...uh...talk much...do we?" For the first time during the reading, Scully's eyes lifted from the page to find him staring at her. "What do you mean like...really talk? No, no we don't, Mulder," she said with absolute certainty, no longer reading the script. "Well what's stopping us?" Their eyes locked, Scully's searching his. Was this real? The tension between them was thick and oppressive in the room. "So," Mulder said, breaking the momentary silence, "this prom story true?" "What - oh," Scully said, disoriented. He was talking about the script. She glanced down at it and nodded. "Not exactly a Cinderella story," she said ruefully. "What's the rest of the story?" Mulder asked. "The rest of the story?" "Yeah, it looks like we're joining the program already in progress here," he said, gesturing to the script. "Oh, well there's not much to tell," Scully evaded, a little uncomfortable. Since when did Mulder want to talk about anything other than the x-files, much less anything personal? "C'mon, Scully," he persisted, "tell me about Marcus." "Forget it," Scully snapped, getting a little irritated at his sudden interest in her past, "let's just get this over with, Mulder." The remark bit into Mulder. He was trying to get her to open up a bit, to talk to him. But she had just made it pointedly clear she didn't want to let him in. He could feel his own anger and frustration. Without thinking, he reacted. "Christ, Scully, do you have to be on your deathbed to open up to me?" The moment the words left his lips, he desperately wanted to take them back. Scully went absolutely still, her face draining of color. "Scully, wait I didn't -" Scully's hand meeting his cheek in a vicious slap cut him off mid-sentence. "How dare you?!" she hissed, her eyes blazing fury even as tears welled up in them. "Just who the hell do you think you are? What, are you pitying me? I've worked with you for four years, you never gave a damn about my life unless it happened to involve little green men!" Scully's voice rose, louder and louder, until it filled the small room. "I've followed you places no one should have to go, even when you left me behind! I've lied for you, proven myself to you over and over again, protected you and saved your ass more times than I care to remember. And now you dare reprimand *me* for not opening up to *you*?!" Scully paused, her chest heaving, face now flushed. Mulder watched, stricken, as Scully yelled. He'd never, ever, seen her like this. She was always so controlled - detached, almost. But her eyes were burning with an intense blue fire and he realized Scully was anything but detached from what was happening to her, to them. "Scully, I - " he stopped. All the words in his mind seemed woefully inadequate as answer to her accusations. She knew she was everything to him, didn't she? Didn't she know the thought of her alone gave him the strength to get out of bed every day? That without her, he'd have eaten a bullet a long time ago? >From the fury and hurt in her eyes, she obviously didn't. But he couldn't tell her that, not now, not like this. What if she didn't believe him? What if she thought he was only saying that to quell her anger? Because the fear of losing Scully was stronger than the fear of her anger, the only words that fell from Mulder's lips were, "I'm sorry, Scully." Scully felt her anger slowly drain away. She brushed a tired hand across her eyes. It wasn't Mulder's fault, not all of it anyway. She had kept him at a distance, too. At first, she thought it was for her own protection - to keep some semblance of her own will so as to not be completely drawn to him and his cause. Well, that had happened regardless and now her self- imposed isolation was also her own private hell. She felt alone and had only herself to blame. How could she be angry at him? She needed him so desperately, to keep herself sane even as the futility of fighting the cancer sapped her will. If he only knew, if she only had the courage to tell him. She looked up to find him watching her. Every part of him seemed focused on her. Could she tell him? God, how she wanted to. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She buried her face in her hands. Why was this so hard? Finally, she brought her gaze back up to Mulder's. "I -," she started, then stopped. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. "I don't want to die, Mulder." The whispered words lanced through Mulder's mind, causing a numbing pain in his abdomen. Reverently, he pulled Scully into his embrace, his arm curving around her neck as he buried his face in her hair. They said nothing. There was nothing to be said. The feel of the other's body so intimately entwined with their own brought comfort and strength, as if they gleaned it from each other. Cautiously, Mulder hooked an arm under Scully's thighs and shifted her slightly until she was on his lap. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, listening to one another breathe. Neither wanted to break the silence for fear of losing this time of physical and mental closeness. Scully nestled herself in Mulder's arms and closed her eyes. Her arms wound around his waist as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. She sighed deeply, content to stay in this position for as long as he'd let her. Mulder was with her - he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Scully allowed herself the peace of believing this, even if it was only for a little while. Truth be told, there was nothing she would not do for this man who held her so tenderly in his arms. Mulder savored her slight weight in his lap, sliding his hand comfortingly up and down her back and gently rocking her. As they sat there, cuddled together, Mulder slowly began to realize exactly how close Scully was. The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest, her backside rested on his open thighs while her legs tangled with his over the side of the couch. As much as he mentally fought against it, her nearness proved to be his undoing. He cursed himself, disgusted, as his groin started to throb. His forehead beaded with sweat. He closed his eyes and prayed Scully wouldn't notice. Just then, Scully shifted slightly in Mulder's lap, moving to a more comfortable position. She paused when she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Mulder," she asked, "you okay? Am I too heavy?" "No," Mulder choked out, "you're fine." He swallowed hard. How could he tell her that he couldn't even hold her to comfort her without becoming unbearably aroused? She was going to think all he thought about was sex -- well she probably already thought that anyway, he thought with chagrin. Scully squirmed again, trying to turn her head up to look at him when she suddenly felt his mouth settle against her ear. "I think you'd better sit still before I do something you'll regret," he whispered, his voice raw. Scully froze. With his words, realization dawned. She suddenly was acutely aware of his body's response, his hardness pressing insistently against her. Her face flamed even as the blood began pounding in her veins. Her skin rose in gooseflesh as his breath came hot and fast against her ear. The room was suddenly much too warm and much too quiet. A rapid knock at the door startled them both. Scully scrambled off his lap and Mulder jumped to his feet just as the door opened. They both turned to see the unannounced visitor. A man, about fifty or sixty years of age, stared back at them. He stood a good head shorter than Mulder with a forgettable kind of face and was dressed in a plain khaki pants and shirt. The only memorable thing about him was his eyes. They were piercing, alive with knowledge and vigor that belied his age. He stepped forward to Mulder, extending his hand in greeting. "Good day, Mr. Mulder, Ms. Scully. My name is Professor Krinsky." He spoke with an accent Mulder couldn't quite place. Mulder unthinkingly returned the handshake before he realized the incongruity of the words. "How do you know who we are?" he asked. The man gave a slight chuckle. "Because I am the one who brought you here." The room was silent. "And how, exactly, did you do that?" Mulder asked, skepticism apparent on his face. "That is not important," the Professor answered, "what is important is getting you back." "And how are *you* going to do that?" Mulder questioned. Sitting himself down in the armchair, the Professor gestured for Mulder and Scully to sit also. "This will not be a short story," he said. Mulder and Scully retook their seats on the sofa. "What happened to you," the Professor began, "is what's called a tesseract." Scully's eyes widened. "That's impossible!" she said. "I'm afraid it's quite possible," the professor replied. "But the scientific community has studied tesseracts and decided that, while in theory they could be made, real life testing proved fruitless. The research was given up on years ago," Scully said, adamant. "Wait a second," Mulder interjected, hopelessly trying to make sense of Scully and the Professor's conversation. "What are you talking about? What's a tesseract?" "A technical definition of a tesseract," Scully answered, "is that it's the four-dimensional analogue of a cube. In and of itself, that means nothing to us. But, as I'm sure you know, Mulder, space is four-dimensional. "The first dimension can be described as a line, from one point in space to another," Scully patiently explained. "For the second dimension, you would square the line to form a box. And for the third dimension, you square the square and form a cube. The fourth dimension cannot be drawn but presumably you would square the third dimension, producing time. Speculation has always been that there are more than four dimensions in space. Scientists have theorized that time-travel would be possible if you could square time to produce a fifth dimension. They call that event a tesseract." "But we didn't travel in time," Mulder said, "we are at the same point in time but in a rather warped version of our world." "That is what was unforseen about the tesseract," the Professor said, "not time travel, as we had always guessed, but rather the ability to cross the barrier separating different levels of the universe." "What are you saying, that there is more than one universe?" Mulder asked, incredulous. "No, no, of course not!" snorted the Professor. "There is but one universe, only with infinite...parallels, so to speak. You exist in each 'parallel' for the same amount of time and you have the same appearance, but your place in each is vastly different. This parallel is particularly intriguing because of it's relation to the one from which you come. Here you are actors, David and Gillian, portraying what you, as Mulder and Scully, actually live. It's quite fascinating, really." "How is this possible?" Scully asked. "Experiments on tesseracts were banned and stopped a long time ago." The Professor chuckled. "I'm afraid not, Miss Scully. The research and experiments were merely hidden from the public view. After all, the ability to travel in time would certainly be a weapon to end all weapons, would it not? Alas, the breakthrough has only been quite recent and, unfortunately, quite unpredictable. They are testy things and have a tendency to fight any attempt at control. Hence, your presence here," he gestured to Scully. "What do you mean?" Mulder asked. "She came at the same time I did." "Oh, you are quite correct, Mister Mulder, she did come at the same time. You see, we thought we had developed a method of control over the tesseracts. Unfortunately, you stumbled upon a test we were conducting that brought you here. Your presence here was not planned." "Wait a second," Scully asked, "if you were conducting a test at the hospital where Mulder was, then how did I get here? I was nowhere near the hospital when this happened." The Professor paused for a moment before replying. "We don't actually know for sure, Miss Scully. But we have a theory." "You keep saying 'we,'" Mulder interrupted, "who's 'we?'" "Goodness, pardon my manners! By 'we' I am referring to the other members of The Circle." "The Circle?" Scully questioned. "Yes, it is merely an association of colleagues with whom I have worked for years in trying to achieve a tesseract. When our research finally paid off a few months ago, we decided to conduct a test. I was there when Mr. Van Blundht attacked you, Mister Mulder. That part of the hospital is usually deserted at that time of day which is why we chose it for the location of the test. I was in position but helpless to stop the tesseract from forming when you arrived. When we realized Miss Scully had gone, too, I was sent to bring both of you back." "So what's your theory on how Scully got here in the first place?" Mulder asked. "We have observed that, in each parallel, there are some people who are always linked to a certain individual, though the relationship may differ somewhat. This link is incredibly strong and transcends the parallels. For instance, two sisters in our world who are extremely close may be merely best friends in another parallel while in another they may be work colleagues and in another, lovers." He paused. "From what we've gathered, it appears you and Ms. Scully are linked like this. When you were transported, Mister Mulder, the link took Ms. Scully with you." Dumbfounded, Mulder and Scully simply stared at the Professor. Scully found her voice first. "That's impossible. Even if tesseracts *were* possible, this...link...you're describing is ludicrous! People cannot just vanish into time and space because of their relationship with someone else!" "You say that because you do not understand the link," explained the Professor. "I knew you, especially, would need proof. So...I brought these." With that, he carefully extracted a large manila envelope from the inside of his jacket. He handed it to Scully. With trepidation, she took and opened it. Into her lap spilled dozens of photos. Upon closer examination, she realized they were all of her and Mulder. But the poses of the photographs were nothing she could ever remember. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Mulder also staring intently at the photos. "Those are all photos of you and Mister Mulder from different parallels," said the Professor. "You'll find you and he share every relationship imaginable, Ms. Scully. We found you two as brother and sister, as in-laws, as work colleagues and, in one rather convulated parallel, married to other people but having a rather torrid affair with one another. In each case, no matter how you met or from what background you came, you two were always the best of friends -- or perhaps soulmates would be a more fitting term." The Professors words rang hollowly in Scully's ears as she looked at the photos. The top one was of her and Mulder at a birthday party, his arms wrapped around her as she sat before a large cake complete with a dozen lit candles. Her hair was long, past her shoulders. They looked so...happy. Scully was transfixed by the smile on Mulder's face in the picture. She'd never seen him look so carefree. So at peace. She picked up the next photo in the pile. This one was of she and Mulder amidst a group of people at some kind of formal occasion. Only she was wrapped in the arms of a man she'd never seen before while Mulder was similarly holding the arm of a woman she'd never seen. Both of them looked very posed, their smiles reaching only the surface. Another photo was of she and Mulder as children, posed in front of a large Christmas tree. Mulder held his fingers up in rabbit ears behind her head. Another was them amidst a group of people, they seemed to be about college age, playing volleyball on a beach. Still another had them dressed for prom while Mulder was awkwardly pinning a corsage to the top of her dress. Scully dropped the photos in her lap. Her own image as well as Mulder's stared back at her from the myriad of photos -- each one telling their own story. Her fingers caressed them. Could this be real? What the Professor was saying was true - in theory. But what did this mean? For science...for her and Mulder.... She paused in her mental deliberations. Mulder was still gazing over her shoulder at the pictures, his breath softly grazing her cheek. The Professor was just watching them, a shadow of a smile on his face. Suddenly, a photo caught Scully's eye. It was near the bottom of the pile. Curious, she pulled it out -- her heart leapt to her throat and she heard Mulder's sudden intake of breath. There, in her hand, was a photo of a wedding. Only it wasn't just any wedding. It was her and Mulder's wedding. She was wearing a short-sleeved ivory gown with ivory gloves. It was a simple yet classic dress, fitting snuggly to her bosom and waist then softly flaring out over her hips and cascading to the floor in a short train. She held a bouquet of spring flowers in her hand. A dainty circlet of pearls adorned her brow. Mulder was outfitted in a black tuxedo with an ivory vest and tie that matched her dress, a matching sprig of flowers on his lapel. And they were wrapped in each others arms, deeply engrossed in a kiss. Scully saw the picture begin to blur and swim in her gaze. Her hand began to shake. She heard Mulder calling her name but he sounded so far away, as if he was talking through cotton. She went to turn towards him to tell him she was okay, but her body wouldn't respond to her commands. The last thing she saw was Mulder's frantic eyes searching her face and his lips soundlessly moving before the darkness overcame her. ********************* "Scully! Scully!!" Mulder's agitated voice filled the room as Scully's head lolled on his shoulder. "She'll be all right," the Professor said. "How the hell do you know?" Mulder retorted. "She's dying." As he spoke, he gently gathered her in his arms and laid her down on the couch. His touch as delicate as if she were a priceless work of art that was easily broken. "She's not dying, Mister Mulder. On the contrary, she's healing." Mulder froze in his ministrations at those words. Slowly, he turned to face the Professor who calmly met his gaze. "She's *what*?" "I said she's healing, Mister Mulder. In this parallel, that body does not have a cancerous brain tumor. It's being destroyed by the forces of this parallel even as we speak. Unfortunately, that kind of physical change takes its toll on the body's resources. It's no wonder she collapsed from the combined strain of what she was seeing as well as what her body was doing on the inside. I'm surprised she had the strength to stay alert even this long." "Wait a second," Mulder interrupted, too afraid to believe what he was hearing, "are you really saying the cancer is gone? She's not going to die?" His heart surged at the new hope layed as a gift before him. The Professor nodded in confirmation. Mulder's face lit up in a brilliant smile. He tenderly brushed Scully's hair back from her brow and leaned close to her ear. "You hear that, Scully," he whispered, "you're going to be okay. It's over." Hot tears burned his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut. The Professor watched, vaguely uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, then paused before speaking. "Mister Mulder," he hesitated, "please understand. We never meant to bring Ms. Scully here. Her respite from the cancer is but a brief one. When we take you back, the cancer will return." Mulder felt his heart split in two at the words. Then a white hot fire of anger filled his belly and he turned to the Professor, his eyes blazing. "Then we won't go back." The Professor appeared taken aback by the words, his eyes widening in shock. "But, but you have to!" he spluttered. "We don't *have* to go anywhere," Mulder shot back. "We didn't ask you to bring us here and from now on we're damn well going to do as we please." "Mister Mulder -" the Professor began. "Shut the fuck up!" Mulder shouted, his voice cracking with tension and fury while his eyes shone with unshed tears. The Professor blanched, fear entering his eyes even as he watched Mulder curve his body over Scully's as if to protect her from an invisible threat. Pity replaced the fear as he watched Mulder softly whisper to Scully words only she could hear. He carefully arranged her legs on the couch and folded her hands on her stomach. She remained impassive, blissfully unaware of the emotion raging in the man now sitting beside her, silently gazing at her face. The Professor waited a moment, then tried again. "Please, listen to me -" Quick as a cat, Mulder was on his feet, hauling the Professor up out of his chair by the front of his shirt. Mercilessly, he slammed the man into the wall and held him there with his arm against his throat. "I will *not* let you take her back to die." Mulder spoke through clenched teeth. The Professor clawed at Mulder's arm, struggling to speak even though almost no air was allowed to reach his lungs. "You...know...you...have...no...choice..." he gasped out. "Please... let me go...." Mulder's arm remained tightly against his throat, his eyes dark with fury. The Professor tried again, the room slowly fading from his vision. "You...don't...belong...here..." The words tore into Mulder and realization of what he was doing dawned on him. He hastily removed his arm and the old man sank to his knees, dragging in long gulps of air and rubbing his neck. As much as he deplored it, the Professor was right. They weren't the same people here even though they may look like the correct inhabitants. If they stayed, they'd be forced to live the rest of their lives as a lie, pretending to be who they weren't. After a moment, the Professor picked himself off the floor and stood in front of Mulder. "You're lucky I'm an understanding man," he rasped, his voice still recovering from the stranglehold. "I lost my wife to cancer," he said, the pain filling his eyes suddenly making him appear years older. He paused a moment before continuing, gathering the scattered pictures of Mulder and Scully. After tucking the envelope back into his coat pocket, he spoke again. "I *am* sorry you cannot stay here, Mister Mulder, but the ramifications of your being here and those who were here being in our parallel are quite serious. You *must* go back. I'm sure, despite your personal feelings, you see the logic and necessity of this." His voice was sympathetic but firm. "The next tesseract is planned for tonight. Please be in Ms. Scully's trailer at midnight. I will come for you." With that, he straightened his jacket and with a last glance at Scully, still unconscious on the couch, he turned and left the room. Mulder stared at the closed door for a moment, numbness knawing at the edges of his mind. If he could just stop feeling the pain.... But there was always the pain. He turned and walked back over to the couch where Scully still lay. Her face was so peaceful, her body so relaxed. Her pale face now held a slight tint of rose, a sign of the healing process slowly rebuilding the damage the cancer had wrought. The fragile healing that would be crushed beneath the onslaught of the cancer that was only held at bay for the moment and would return with vengeance tomorrow night. Should he tell her? Should he give her a miracle only to cruelly snatch it away in the next breath? Or should this secret remain his to keep? His lone burden that would tear at his soul as he watched her body slowly wither away. Mulder's eyes drifted to the floor. A splash of color caught his eye. A picture had fallen on the floor and been pushed under the couch. With shaking fingers, he carefully picked it up and smoothed out the wrinkles before tucking it into his jacket pocket. His knees suddenly felt too weak to hold him and he sank to the floor beside Scully. He pressed her hand to his cheek as hot tears slid down his face into her open palm. Scully woke feeling more relaxed and refreshed than she had in a very long time, her ever-present headache for once absent. A little disoriented as to her location, she raised her head to peer at the room - then discovered Mulder fast asleep, his head resting on the cushions beside her while his hand clutched hers in a death grip. A soft smile curved her lips as she observed him. While she hated to worry him, it always made her feel cherished when he did. It actually wasn't so hard to believe - the link the Professor had spoken of. From the moment she'd met Fox Mulder, she had felt like she'd found a missing piece of herself. Their arguing over cases and facts always seemed more as if she was playing devil's advocate with herself than taking sides against him. She couldn't explain her devotion and fierce protection of him - she just knew it was. They were halves of the same whole, each completing the other and each dependent on the other. Her hand drifted from her side to lightly touch his hair, the thick strands sliding through her fingers. Unable to stop herself, she ever so softly stroked his face, her fingers barely touching the skin as she traced his silky eyebrows, the strong bridge of his nose, the cheek roughened by a five o'clock shadow, the satin of his slightly moist lips. He stirred at her touch and her hand quickly retreated to the safe territory of his hair. His eyes drifted open to meet hers. The air was heavy between them and Scully's breath came fast. The darkness of his gaze penetrated her, unwavering in its contemplation. "Your knees are not going to appreciate that position, Mulder," she finally said with a smile, his hair still caressing her fingertips. Mulder's heart constricted at her smile. Her touch had wakened him but had been so unexpected and sweet, he had pretended to be asleep. Finally, her feather-light caresses had driven him to open his eyes. Not trusting himself to not pull her into his arms, he merely smiled back and squeezed her hand, still wrapped tightly in his. "So," Scully said as she sat up on the couch, nervously smoothing a hand over her hair, "what did I miss?" "Not much," Mulder replied, his conscience pricking at the lie, "just that we'll get our ticket home tonight at midnight. We're supposed to wait for him in your trailer." He reluctantly let go of her hand and stood. "Is that when the next tesseract is planned?" she asked. Mulder nodded. "Not soon enough, if you ask me," she grumbled. "I wasn't relishing making a living on my looks and acting abilities. Somehow I don't think they'd believe I was a self-taught doctor." "You can always play doctor on me, Scully," Mulder teased, grateful to be leaving the topic of what he and the Professor had discussed while Scully had been unconscious. Scully grunted in reply, trying to hide the smirk on her lips at the images that evoked in her mind. Maybe she just might have to take him up on that offer...someday. Mulder extended a hand which Scully grasped as she stood from the couch. She straightened her clothing as her mind turned to the next problem still facing them. "I think our time's up, Mulder. They must be ready to finish filming by now. I don't think I've memorized my lines." She sounded vaguely worried. "Chris said he'd set up a couple of teleprompters for us. We should be okay." "Well then, let's go G-man," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ******************* It took several takes, but they finally had something on film that Chris seemed reasonably happy with. Although Scully had wondered what the near-kiss would bring, she shouldn't have worried. With all the people watching, the lights and cameras focused on them and Chris pausing the filming to give them stage directions, it was a little difficult to feel anything romantic about the whole experience. Mulder had helped put her at ease, cracking jokes in her ear with his decidedly irreverent wit and parodying Chris's directions. He had even thrown in some ad-lib that Chris had loved, like checking himself out in a spoon and arranging and rearranging himself on the couch. Finally, it was over and Chris called it a wrap. Scully gratefully heaved a sigh of relief. She was deeply involved in a conversation with Clarissa from Wardrobe over what Scully thought was a particularly nondescript suit when it happened. "Mommy!" The cry pierced the air and conversation momentarily halted, then resumed again as if this were a common occurrence. Scully turned to see who was yelling for their mommy when a small bundle of arms and legs attached itself to her leg. Stunned, she glanced down to see a little girl with red curls smiling back up at her. "Hello, Piper!" Clarissa said to the little girl. "Hi, Miss Klissa," the little girl said politely, her tongue stumbling over Clarissa's name. She turned and looked back up at Scully, stretching out her arms in the universal gesture to be lifted. Moving as if in slow motion, Scully obediently scooped Piper into her arms. In response, Piper threw her arms around Scully's neck in a giant hug then puckered up and gave her a big wet kiss. "I missed you, Mommy," she said very sincerely. "When can we go home?" As the child's deep blue eyes settled on her's Scully felt something stir within her, something deep and instinctual toward this child she didn't know but to whom her heart and body felt drawn, as if she were her own. Still in shock, she clutched the small figure to her breast and cradled her. "Soon, sweetheart. We'll go home soon," she whispered. Chris watched the scene, aghast. Mulder grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Why didn't you tell us Gillian had a child!" he hissed, his face ashen. "I told the nanny to keep her off the set today," Chris explained. "Piper must have put up a fuss." "Do you have *any* idea what this'll do to Scully?" Mulder bit out. Chris nodded. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I honestly tried to prevent it." Seeing the sincerity on his face, Mulder relented. With a curt nod, he headed over to Scully who was listening attentively to the little girl talking to her. "...and then I watched Pooh and he had a red b'loon but he broke it and then Rabbit and Tigger and all of 'em tried to get 'nother b'loon but they couldn't and then..." she paused for breath and Mulder took the opportunity to interrupt. "Who's your friend, Scully?" he said softly. Scully was about to reply when Piper launched herself at Mulder. "Dave!" Instinctively, Mulder caught her. She immediately began digging in his pockets. "You brung candy?" Shocked, Mulder looked at Scully. She was smiling broadly, her eyes twinkling. "I think you two already know each other," she said, tilting her head towards the little girl who had abandoned her search for candy and was now persistently tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. "This is Piper." "You don't have candy?" Piper said plaintively, her face the epitome of bereavement. "You *always* have candy." Thinking quickly, Mulder decided the best way out of this was playing on what children were most known for: short attention spans. "What's that you have in your ear?" he queried. "Nothing," Piper replied, her face puzzled. "I think you have something hiding in there," Mulder replied. Reaching for her ear, he palmed a quarter. "See! You've been stashing money in there!" At her delighted expression, he palmed another quarter and pulled it from her other ear. "You're just filled with money," he teased, "got any twenty dollar bills hiding in there?" She shook her head, eyeing the shiny coins in her palm. "You know, I bet Clarissa would know where there's a candy machine around here," he whispered conspiratorially to her. With a wiggle and squirm she was out of his arms and begging Scully to be allowed to find the candy machine. With an indulgent smile, Scully agreed and Clarissa led the little girl off. Mulder and Scully didn't speak for a moment, each watching as Clarissa tried to keep up with Piper. Finally, Scully spoke. "Isn't she fabulous, Mulder?" Hesitantly, Mulder glanced over at her. She was still watching Piper in the distance. "Yes. Yes she is, Scully." The small smile on Scully's face and the brightness of her eyes disturbed him but before he was able to pursue the subject, Chris approached them. Chris had been contemplating how to get Mulder and Scully away from the studio this afternoon. A meeting had been calling weeks ago with cast members to go over the upcoming finale, movie and Season 5. The last thing he wanted to do was make the colossal mistake of telling Mulder and Scully what their future held. While they still didn't know what created the other - be it him writing their lives or him merely writing what they lived - he didn't want to take any chances. "Um, I'm sorry to inform you guys about this," he began, "but Gillian and David were scheduled for a photo shoot this afternoon." Mulder and Scully exchanged looks. He hadn't mentioned this last night. "Can't it be rescheduled?" Scully asked. "I'm afraid not," Chris answered. "It's already been postponed twice. Really, it's not a big deal. You don't have to do anything except smile and, well, you don't even really have to do that." He grinned apologetically. "They'll take care of everything for you. One of the perks of this business." "I don't really see as we have a choice in the matter, if we're going to keep up this charade," Mulder answered for them. "Great! The magazine's representative is right over there," he pointed to a very harried looking man clutching a cellphone in one hand and a clipboard in the other. "He'll take care of you." Chris turned to leave, heaving a sigh of relief. He was stopped by Scully. "Wait, what magazine is this for?" "TV Guide." ********************************* "Well, Scully, it looks like we hit the big time if TV Guide wants to take our picture." Scully smiled at Mulder's sarcasm. They were enroute to the photoshoot in the back of a posh limousine. Mulder was busy pushing buttons and poking in the wooden panels that hid a mini-bar, a television and small stereo. Suddenly, the glass partition between them and the driver began sliding down. "Oops. Sorry." Mulder hastily reversed the window, his face sheepish. "It could be worse, Mulder. We could be posing for 'Celebrity Skin.'" Mulder caught her eye, a smirk curving his lips. "Don't get my hopes up, Scully." Scully blushed and looked away, unsure of how to respond to Mulder's flirting. She was still trying to figure out how to categorize their encounters from this morning and afternoon. He hadn't mentioned it and neither had she, but that was not unusual. So many things passed between them that were never referred to by mutual consent. This could very well never be spoken of again. She and Mulder would just continue as if nothing had happened. And nothing had...had it? So the Professor had said they had a "link." So did many people. But what about the pictures? Perhaps, in our world, this is as close as we are destined to get, she thought. Strange, how her heart sank at the thought. Scully thought back to when she'd first met Mulder. She had heard so much about him at the Academy. The students has joked about "Spooky" Mulder, making fun of his rather extreme ideas. No one had ever said anything to his face - no one had the guts to - but a grudging respect was always present for "Spooky." Scully had laughed with everyone else at some of the stories that were bandied about regarding Mulder. And she had been intrigued and excited when she was assigned to the X-Files, anticipating meeting this prodigy, yet embarrassment, to the FBI. What she had been completely unprepared for, was his incredible intellect, his intensity, his passion, and his ability to draw her to him like a moth to a flame. From the moment he had turned down the lights and challenged her with his slide show, she had been lost. At first, she had been infatuated, like a student in awe of a teacher. Then, almost without her becoming aware of it, infatuation had grown to need and need to love. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she knew she was in love with Mulder. It had stolen upon her like a shadow, not making its presence known until it was too late. He had her now as securely as if she were tethered to him. Nothing could tear her from his side unless he told her to go. And even then, she wasn't sure she would be able to obey. Mulder covertly eyed Scully as she stared out the window, seemingly at nothing. She appeared lost in thought. Whatever she was thinking, it apparently wasn't pleasureable judging from the almost melancholy look on her face. At times like these, he cursed the distance between them. He knew Scully kept part of herself hidden from him - be it deliberately or without her awareness, he knew not which. It was a side of her that was very much akin to a woman who longed for affection and comfort, who wasn't afraid to bare her fears and desires. And he'd only glimpsed it on a few rare occassions. The ordeal with Donnie Phaster came to mind, when she'd allowed herself to show her fear and receive his comfort. Mulder remembered how he'd felt holding her close in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder. Her body had shook from her sobs and he'd gently kissed the top of her head while whispering to her. He'd never known before how much he had longed to comfort someone, to be their protector. His heart had turned over in his chest when he had realized how much Scully had needed him at that moment. He had never thought anyone would ever need and depend on him again, much less reach out to him for comfort. Tears of his own had filled his eyes at the depth of his relief and thankfulness that she was safe. His thoughts were interrupted by the car slowing to a halt and a few moments later, the door was opened for them. Mulder exited first, then offered his hand to help Scully out of the car. Scully critically eyed herself in the mirror. She adored the dress but it had been a long time since she'd worn an evening gown. She couldn't wear a bra with the dress and it felt decidedly strange to be in such feminine attire around Mulder. She'd always struggled to be recognized for her skill as an agent rather than be coddled because of her gender. She didn't think Mulder had ever seen her in something quite like this. "Ready?" the wardrobe mistress inquired. Scully smiled and nodded to the woman. She then led Scully out into the studio where Mulder and the photographer were waiting. Mulder was wearing a soft yellow cotton shirt and matching jacket. Scully thought and could not remember Mulder *ever* wearing yellow. Or any bright color for that matter. Mulder's breath caught when he saw Scully walking toward him. Her dress was amazing. She was adorned in a shimmering mint green dress that clung to her every curve and was secured by slim straps across her shoulders. The material undulated around her body as she walked and Mulder couldn't help but wonder what she wore beneath the gown. His eyes caught hers and held them until she stopped in front of him. "You clean up pretty well, Scully." Mulder teased, slowly looking down her length in appreciation. "Shut up, Mulder, or I'll start singing 'You Are My Sunshine,'" she shot back, her mouth twitching in an effort not to smile at his backhanded compliment. He grimaced at the reference to his rather cheerful attire and was about to respond when the photographer started posing them. "Okay, now I'd like you to be in a classic dancing pose so Gillian, you stand on the left and David on the right." Mulder and Scully stood for a moment in uncertainty. Scully spoke first. "Excuse me, but why are we going to be dancing when we're FBI agents on a show about aliens and government conspiracy? That doesn't seem to make sense." The photographer peeked out from behind his camera and tripod. "I thought this would be a better way to exploit more of the sexual tension on the show. Don't worry, the pictures I'm going for will be very moodily romantic. It'll be great!" With that he was back behind the camera, adjusting some lens or filter. Scully looked at Mulder with some apprehension. His eyes had a mischevious glint which gave her even more cause to be wary. "Sexual tension, eh, Scully," he said thoughfully, "you been checkin' out my butt again?" He waggled his eyebrows, provoking a laugh from her despite herself. "He's probably referring to your video collection," Scully replied. Mulder grimaced then held out his hand to her. Scully placed her palm in his and he drew her to him, placing his hand on her back where he was met with a welcome surprise. Her dress was entirely backless, the material plunging low enough that he hadn't found it yet as his hand slowly explored down her back. "Have I mentioned how much I like your dress, Scully?" "Watch the hands, Mulder," Scully said as Mulder's drifting hand finally found the fabric again right above her rear. The photographer began snapping away. "But we need to be sure and exploit that sexual tension, Scully," Mulder protested softly in her ear, all innocence. "I'm just trying to do a good job." Scully was unable to repress a shiver at his warm breath caressing her skin. "Cold?" Mulder asked and, without awaiting her response, pulled her more tightly into his embrace. Mulder knew he was taking advantage of the situation, but he just couldn't resist. He believed without a doubt that the woman he held in his arms was the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered. The fact that she could probably kick his ass only added to the attraction of her body currently encased in the satin dress. He realized that, if he didn't turn his attention elsewhere soon, they were going to have a repeat performance of the rather embarrassing situation he'd found himself in earlier with Scully sitting on his lap. Only now she was held tightly against his chest by his arm wrapped around her waist. He quickly grasped her left hand in his right and smoothly spun her away from him. He then pulled her back and clasped her other hand, moving to silent music. Scully hadn't even known Mulder could dance and here he was twirling her around as if he'd been born dancing. She laughed in delight. She loved to dance. When she did find time to go out, it was so difficult to find a man who could really dance and not just sway and turn in circles on the dance floor. The photographer caught on to Mulder and quickly turned on some music. Scully recognized the song as "Searching My Soul." "I've been searchin' my soul tonight I know there's so much more to life Now I know I can shine a light To find my way back home" The song's lyrics captured Scully's attention and she wondered if Mulder was listening to them. She searched his face but his eyes betrayed nothing. "One by one, the chains around me unwind Every day now I feel that I can leave those years behind Oh I've been thinking of you for a long time There's a side of my life where I've been blind and so... I've been searchin' my soul tonight..." The music was exhilirating and the photographer was hurriedly snapping photos of her and Mulder laughing as they made up new and - interesting - dance moves. Scully was finally able to squeeze out a sentence between steps, Mulder's infectious enthusiasm making her smile. "Mulder, since when did you know how to dance?" "I've always known how," Mulder said, "I've just never had much cause to dance." "Then why now?" Scully asked, curious to hear his reply. Mulder pressed his mouth again to her ear. "Because now I'm with you." Scully didn't have a chance to reply because he had eased her into a low dip. He gracefully pulled her back up into his arms and stopped dancing, his face inches from hers. Oblivious to the photographer, Scully's breath caught in her chest as his eyes captivated hers. They seemed to burn right through to her soul and dared her to deny what he saw there. As if hearing it from a distance, the music filtered into her ear. "Baby I been holding back now my whole life I've decided to move on now Gonna leave all my worries behind Oh I believe I am ready for what love has to give Got myself together now I'm ready to live." Scully watched as Mulder's face drew closer to hers. He paused a mere breath away from her lips. Scully's pulse raced and she nervously wet her lips, waiting for the first touch of his mouth. She was acutely aware of everything about him: the warmth of his body seeping through the clothing, the musky smell of his sweat mixed with the tang of his cologne, the flexed muscles of his arms as he held her close enough to feel the full length of his body through the thin gown. The click of the camera brough Mulder up short. He'd been so entranced with Scully, he'd completely forgotten that they were not alone. Regretfully, he broke his contact with her and turned to the photographer. Scully turned as well and the photographer snapped one last photo before, recognizing the dangerous glare directed at him from Mulder, decided to call it a day. "Okay! Thanks so much for your time. We're all done," he said and quickly left the room, a pleased smile on his face. Scully watched him leave, then turned to Mulder. The air felt awkward between them. He didn't speak, merely stood still in the now silent room, staring at her. Unsure of what to do next, Scully made no move to leave. Was he going to finish what he started? She was torn, half of her desperately wanting him to and the other half desperately wanting him not to. Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, she said "We'd better get going," and turned to head to the dressing room - only to be brought up short by Mulder's hand on her arm. "Scully." She turned. "Yes, Mulder?" Her voice sounded breathless even to her and she inwardly cringed. The last thing she wanted was for him to think her some lovesick teenager, hanging on his every word - even if she did. He tugged her towards him, pulling her unresisting form close until they were a mere inches apart. She could feel the heat coming off his body. She was afraid he could hear her heart pounding. The blood now rushing through her veins making the sound seem loud in her ears. Her breath caught and held as his eyes leisurely made their way down her face to rest on her lips. She invluntarily wet them and his eyes followed the movement as if transfixed. His eyes finally lifted to settle a dark, hungry look on her. "I think you forgot something, Scully." "Wha-" Her reply was lost in the soft confines of Mulder's lips as they pressed to hers. Momentarily surprised, Scully didn't immediately respond to the warm caress of his mouth. Then a shiver passed over her and she closed her eyes, giving in to the acute pleasure of Mulder tenderly kissing her, his hand gently cupping her jaw and tilting it upward. Her arms tentatively wound around his neck as she molded herself more closely to him. The touch of his toungue against her lips prompted her to open her mouth to him, deepening the kiss. He explored the warm cavern of her mouth, their tongues entwining as their breath intermingled between them. Mulder's hands slid down Scully's bare arms before sliding around to her back and gently cupping her satin clad bottom. He pulled her to him. Scully moaned softly into Mulder's mouth as she felt the hard evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against her stomach, an answering warmth spreading between her thighs. Sensing the situation escalating beyond her control, Scully abruptly ended the kiss and pulled away, breathing heavily. "I think...we'd better get changed," she said, her voice raw. She turned and shakily headed to the dressing room, trying mightily to appear as unaffected as possible from Mulder's kisses. Mulder watched her walk away, trying to regain control of his body. God, that was incredible. She was incredible. His body ached for more, but what did this mean? For him, for them? What now? If you have to ask that question then it really has been a long time, he though derisively. He ran his hand through his hair and took a ragged breath before heading to the dressing room. ***************************** In the dressing room, Scully looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and red, her eyes dark with arousal. We can't do this, she thought, shaking her head. Mulder means too much to me to screw it up by sleeping together. But if Mulder makes love even half as good as he kisses...she quickly pushed that thought away. It doesn't matter. I *can't* lose him. If I sleep with him, eventually, it will end - and then what? Keep working together as ex-lovers? No, that would never work. It never does, she thought ruefully. She began to dress. **************************** When Mulder and Scully returned to the set, it was more or less deserted. A few cars parked in the lot were the only evidence that someone was still there. "Where is everyone?" Scully asked rhetorically as she and Mulder surveyed the vacant building. Mulder was kept from replying when a stagehand materialized from a nearby office and headed towards the door. "Let's ask him," Mulder said, tilting his head in the man's direction. They crossed the floor and intercepted him. He seemed surprised to see them. "Shouldn't you two be in the meeting?" he asked quizzically. "Chris is probably looking all over for you." "What meeting?" Mulder asked. The stagehand looked at Mulder strangely. "You know, about the movie." "The *movie*?" Scully said, incredulous. Shooting a glance at her, Mulder asked grimly, "Where's the meeting?" The man pointed down a hallway. "The conference room next to Chris's office." "Thanks," Mulder muttered before putting his hand on Scully's back to guide her ahead of him. The stagehand shook his head, watching them hurry down the hall. "Actors." "So, they're making a movie," Mulder said slowly. "About us," Scully responded, her eyes meeting his. "I suppose this was the reason we had a photoshoot today." "So we wouldn't be here." Mulder finished the thought for her. They arrived in front of the appropriate door. Animated voices emanated from withing. Mulder rapped lightly before turning the knob. Everyone fell silent as Mulder and Scully entered. They paused inside the doorway, quickly taking in the faces that greeted them. Chris was there, as was Skinner. A few others she didn't recognize. Scully heard Mulder's sharp intake of breath and looked where his eyes were focused. Her eyes widened as they fell upon the cigarette smoking man, casually perusing a sheaf of red papers. Chris quickly overcame his surprise at their presence and greeted them in a rather strained voice. "David, Gill! Glad you could make it. It's too bad we were just wrapping up here." "What do you mean 'wrapping up?'" the cigarette smoking man said. "You haven't finished explaining exactly what's going on here. I'd appreciate a bit more time to discuss the script." He gestured to the stack of red papers in front of him. There were murmurs of agreement among the rest of the people. Cornered, Chris could only nod in assent. He flinched beneath the accusing stares of Mulder and Scully and had the grace to blush in embarrassment at his failed ploy. Mulder and Scully took two empty seats around the large table. As he sat down, Mulder said, "Oh, Chris - we didn't bring our scripts with us. Would you mind handing us some?" Chris thought frantically. That was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. "I'm all out, David," he said evenly. "I'm quite clear on what we're discussing so I'll be happy to lend you mine." Mulder turned to the man who had spoken. He was an older gentleman with a kind smile. Nodding his thanks, Mulder took the proferred papers. Chris uncomfortably cleared his throat, his eyes glued to the unopened script in Mulder's hands. Taking his chances on what this would sound like to everyone else in the room, he said softly, "I don't think that's a good idea." "Oh really? Why is that, Chris?" Mulder said darkly, furious at Chris's deception. "You know why." Chris glanced quickly at the surrounding audience who were listening interestedly. "Let's take a break everyone," he announced. "Clear the room." Mulder and Scully remained seated as everyone else filed out. When the last person had left, Chris spoke. "I can't let you look at that script, Mulder." "I don't think you have a choice, Chris." Scully watched the battle of wills taking place. Mulder's jaw was clenched tightly, the muscles in his body coiled with tension. Chris was matching his intensity and seemed ready to spring at the slightest provocation. She spoke slowly and evenly, trying to be the voice of reason. "Mulder, he may be right." Mulder broke his gaze with Chris to look at her. His eyes showed his hurt at her seeming defection. "I'm just saying that if we look at this script, we'll be looking at our future. It may be good or it may be bad. Either way, by seeing it, we risk changing it - either knowingly or unknowingly." Mulder didn't reply. He turned and looked at Chris again. "When does this take place?" he held up the script. Chris hesitated. He knew what Mulder was thinking. But how could he not answer? He knew Mulder so well, but Mulder knew next to nothing about him. The anger and distrust in Mulder's eyes were like a physical pain in Chris's gut. How could he not want to ease Mulder's suffering and try to gain his trust? Hesitating, he finally answered, his eyes flickering briefly to Scully. "Two years." Mulder didn't relent. He had to know. "And she's there?" Scully glanced from one to the other. She didn't follow what Mulder was getting at. Was he asking about Samantha? Did Chris know where she was? The thought made her heart pound and she looked at Chris expectantly, her hands clenched. Would Mulder's dream of finding his sister finally come true after all these years? A part of her realized with some detachment that she desperately wanted that for him. Even if she died in the process of the search, it would all be worth it if Mulder found Samantha. Chris knew of whom Mulder was asking. He'd *created* Mulder. He knew what Mulder cared about the most and it wasn't Samantha and it wasn't the Truth. "Yes." Mulder didn't react. He remained frozen, as if that one word had turned his flesh to stone. Scully's heart leapt with joy. She looked at Mulder, a smile spreading across her face. It was worth it - all of it. The lies, the agony they had endured, even her pending death - it was all worth it. Mulder would find Samantha. Chris's gaze was still locked with Mulder's. He stood and slowly reached across the desk to take the script from Mulder's now weak grasp. Without another word, he left the room, quietly slipping the door closed behind him. Mulder felt as if a thousand ton weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wanted to simultaneously jump up and shout to the heavens and lay his head on the table and weep. He settled for staying where he was. His eyes slipped closed and he felt the sting of tears well up behind the lids. "Mulder? What's wrong?" Scully's hand gently touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Scully was staring at him, her expression concerned. He grasped her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it tightly. "Nothing's wrong, Scully. Everything's going to be okay." He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to a God he hadn't believed existed. Scully still watched him, a small smile on her lips. "I'm so happy for you, Mulder," Scully murmured, her hand squeezing his. Mulder's smile faded in puzzlement. "Happy for me?" he said. What was she talking about, 'happy for him'? Scully pulled away from his hand, looking at him in confusion. "Yes, happy for you. Chris said she'd be there - that you'd find her." Mulder just stared at her, his mouth agape. "Samantha?" "Who else?" Scully was getting more confused. What was Mulder playing dumb for? She'd been right next to him, of course she had heard what Chris said. "You thought we were talking about Samantha?" Mulder asked in amazement. Her right eyebrow arched, Scully asked dryly, "Is there another woman you're searching for that I don't know about?" Mulder shook his head. "Scully," he reached for her, taking her face in both his hands and tilting her chin up so their eyes were inches apart. He spoke. "I wasn't asking about Samantha, Scully. I was asking about you." Scully's mind reeled from the implications of Mulder's words. She instinctively shrank back from his touch, mouth agape. "But...that can't be, Mulder..." she wavered, her eyes frantically moving around the room, as if searching, but seeing nothing. "He has to be wrong, Mulder," her voice again resolute. "I won't be alive two years from now." "You don't have to believe it, Scully," Mulder said, his words belying the restrained joy in his eyes. "Because I do." Silently, he again took her hand in both of his. Her eyes, still wide in shock, found his. The look in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat. Strength, love, joy, hope -- they were all there before her in these windows to Mulder's soul. How could she deny him these emotions? How could she take away the hope he had found, regardless of what she believed? Simply put, she couldn't. He wanted - no, needed - to believe. And she wouldn't take that belief away from him. Clasping her other hand over his, she smiled softly. Her heart aching slightly as his face split into a beautific smile. *************************** Mulder glanced at his watch. Eight o'clock. After the impromptu adjournment of the meeting, he and Scully had went to their separate trailers, agreeing that he'd come over at ten to await the Professor. That left two more hours. He found a basketball in a corner and idly dribbled it. Tiring of that, he plopped down on the sofa and flipped on the TV. "...just 4 easy payments of $39.95..." flip "...I'm a doctor, Jim, not a magician..." flip "...Kramer!..." flip "...Let's be careful out there..." flip. Nothing on. Surfing through the channels, the sound of haunting music made him pause. Hmmm, this looked interesting. Ghosts and psychics and such, if the opening credits told anything about the show. Settling back to watch, he was momentarily stunned to see his face and badge on the screen, overlaid by "David Duchovny." Then it was Scully's face and "Gillian Anderson." When he saw "The Truth Is Out There," he let out a small guffaw. It was all so... dramatic. Hard to believe people here were watching his life as entertainment. Staring at the screen, Mulder was mystified. It was Scully, talking to him on the phone, but he was standing right next to her in a nondescript motel room. Mulder's blood ran cold when "Mulder" picked "Scully" up by the neck and slammed her against the wall. He realized what it was. It was the bounty hunter. This was when he'd taken Scully hostage in exchange for...whatever it was that had been impersonating his sister. He was jolted upright when "Mulder" threw "Scully" into the table, shattering the glass into a million pieces and rendering her unconscious. Only then did the bounty hunter resume his earlier persona. Mulder's fists gripped the couch as the image of himself, hurtling Scully across the room replayed in his mind. Scully had never told him exactly what had happened in that motel room, how she'd hurt her head. To now see it in living color made his gut tighten into knots. He wondered what else she had endured for his sake as he forced himself to look back at the screen. ********************* A knock at the door interrupted Scully in her preparations for a light dinner. Wiping her wet hands on a nearby towel, she called out. "Who is it?" "It's me, Ms. Anderson. I thought I'd bring Piper by." Scully froze on her way to the door, her heart pouding. She hadn't said anything to Mulder, but she'd desperately wanted to see the little girl one more time. Cautiously, almost afraid no one would be there, she opened the door. Piper was standing on the step next to the nanny, calmly spilling a pile of M&M's into her hand from a small brown wrapper. She looked up at Scully and smiled, a brown ring of chocolate around her mouth giving evidence to her sugary snack. "I'm hungry!" "I tried to keep them from her, Ms. Anderson, but you know how persistent she can be." The petite woman nodded her head knowingly at Scully. Scully briefly hesitated before replying, "Of course. I know how she can be. It's okay." "Shall I come back for her later to take her to the house?" Scully thought quickly, Mulder shouldn't be here for a few more hours. If the nanny came back for Piper, he wouldn't even know. And she could spend a little more time with her. She decided. "That would be wonderful. Say about 9:00?" The woman nodded. Scully grasped Piper's hand and pulled her inside. With a wave to the retreating nanny, she shut the door behind her. Seeing Piper's hands, now stained a gooey reddish-orange, Scully headed for the kitchen with the child in tow. So much for not melting in your hand, she thought ruefully. "Let's wash up, sweetheart. Then we'll have dinner." Piper obediently followed, awkwardly trying to eat the remaining candies in the wrapper with only one hand free. Wetting a towel, Scully scrubbed Piper's face, erasing the chocolate. Unwrapping her hands from the candy was a little more difficult. Only after eliciting a promise from Scully that the treat would be returned after dinner did Piper release the grubby wrapper. Sitting Piper at the table, Scully resumed her dinner preparations. Opening another can of soup, she dumped its contents into the already heated pan and quickly made another cheese sandwich. In a few minutes, the food was on the table and Scully sat beside Piper. Scully spooned some of the soup into Piper's bowl and cut up the sandwich into small bite-size pieces before filling her own bowl. Piper held her spoon in her fist, watching the steam rise from her bowl. "Be careful, it's hot," Scully warned the little girl. "Gotta blow?" Piper asked. Scully nodded. Her face creasing into a smile as Piper diligently bent forward and began loudly blowing air onto the soup to cool it. Scully marveled at the novelty of sitting down to dinner beside her child. She's not really your child, a voice inside her head whispered. Perhaps not, Scully thought, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to enjoy every moment with her. It may be my only chance.... The thought trailed off, Scully unwilling to finish it and ruin the swell of happiness she felt. It had been so long since she'd felt this happy, this complete. Amazing what a small child could do. She felt tears sting her eyes and she rapidly blinked them back. She didn't want to cry, not even from happiness. Scully silently ate, listening to Piper alternately slurping the soup and telling her in child-speak what had occupied her day. She watched Piper avidly, trying to memorize every facial expression, every word, so she would never forget this moment. After dinner was over and the dishes cleared, Scully realized she'd better give Piper a bath. It had been a long time since she'd cared for a child, much less given one a bath. Did Piper like baths or was she going to have to wrestle her into the tub, she wondered warily. Scully joined Piper who was playing with some toys in front of the television. "Piper, don't you think it's time for your bath?" she carefully questioned. Piper looked up from her toys excitedly. "Yes! Gotta get my toys!" She dropped the toy car she'd been playing with and ran back to the bedroom. Scully followed, relieved that bath time was obviously not a chore for Piper. Piper had gotten a bucket full of rubber duckies, boats and various water toys and was waiting for Scully in the bathroom. Valiantly trying to take off her shirt which was caught on her head, she said, "Fill it, mommy!" Tugging the shirt off, Scully tousled Piper's hair before turning the knobs on the tub. After a little searching, she found some bubblebath under the sink, she dumped some of that in, too. Checking the temperature to make sure it wasn't too hot, she finished helping Piper undress before lifting her into the tub. Scully soaped a washcloth and began washing Piper who paid no heed to her as she played with her toys, switching hands when Scully washed first one arm, then the other. Piper only momentarily stopped playing when Scully leaned her back in the water to wash her hair, trusting Scully to hold her. Finally, Scully finished rinsing her off and Piper resumed playing. Piper took Scully's hand, still dangling over the edge of the tub, and tugged. "Play with me, mommy," she pleaded. Scully's stomach turned over. Every time Piper called her "mommy," her heart ached. God, how she wished she really was her mommy. She wished she had some hope that - someday - she would hear her own child call her by that name. Obediently, she picked up the bright yellow rubber duck. Filling the squeak-toy with water, she pointed it at Piper and squirted her in the chest. Piper squealed with delight and promptly started splashing Scully. Ten minutes later, a soaked Scully toweled Piper dry and stuffed her into the Tigger pyjamas - with feet. After sending Piper into the living room to play, Scully stripped off her sodden clothes and pulled on fresh garments from Gillian's closet. Upon walking into the living room, tv blaring out a commercial, she was surprised to find Piper asleep on the couch. She was clutching a ragged teddy bear to her chest with one hand and sucking the thumb on the other. Scully quietly turned off the television before laying down beside Piper on the couch. Piper cuddled closer to Scully, tucking her head under Scully's chin, and resumed sucking her thumb. Scully wrapped her arms around the little girl and softly stroked her damp hair. The perfume of baby powder assailed her nostrils and she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent and feel of the child in her arms. A smile curved her lips as slumber gently overtook her. ********************************* Mulder silently took in the tableau in front of him. Scully, curled on the sofa asleep with Piper in her arms. He had come over early, needing to see her after watching their past replayed for thousands of viewers on national television. When she hadn't answered his knock, he had entered the unlocked trailer, unknowingly walking in on what was undeniably a private moment. The candles she had lit gave them both an unearthly quality, a mother and her child. It shook him. This was how it was meant to be. This was how *Scully* was meant to be. Alive. Happy. Fulfilled. A mother. He hadn't ever realized how much she wanted this. She never let on, never said anything. What exactly is she supposed to say, he thought. 'Hey, Mulder, I want to have a baby.' Yeah, *that* came up in everyday conversation. God, how he hated to wake her. Hated taking her dream away from her. As much as he wanted Samantha back - that was how much she wanted a child. Someone she could love and care for, who would love and need her. How could he not have known that? With sudden insight, he realized Scully wasn't the only one who longed for someone to love and a normal life. Seeing her there, cradling the little girl, he knew that he longed for the same thing. In a perfect world, Scully would be his wife, sleeping on the couch, cradling their daughter. In a perfect world, no one would try to hurt them or take them away from one another. He would do anything - everything - to be able to give all this to Scully. The strength of his emotions overwhelmed him. Unnoticed, a single tear ran down his face. He walked over to the couch until he stood above the sleeping pair. Silently, he watched them sleep. Scully stirred slightly, a sense coming over her and bringing her to wakefulness. A sense of being watched. Not opening her eyes, she gripped Piper a little tighter. She felt a protectiveness more fierce than anything she'd ever known. A mother's protectivness for her child. Carefully, she opened her eyes a slit and peered through her lashes. Mulder. He was just standing there, watching them. She breathed a small sigh of relief and opened her eyes fully. Wait, something was wrong. Mulder's face looked devastated. As gently as possible, she slipped her arm from beneath Piper and sat up on the sofa. "Mulder? What's wrong?" she whispered. He didn't answer. He was just staring at her. Becoming alarmed, she put a hand on his arm and questioned him again, her voice more insistent. "Mulder? Answer me. What is it?" Mulder opened his mouth, then closed it. "Nothing, Scully," he finally said, his voice a choked rasp. "It's nothing." Then "What are you doing, Scully?" His tone was one of profound sadness. "Mulder-" she began, then paused. She took a deep breath, then blurted "I don't want to go back." "Neither do I, Scully." Scully looked up in surprise. "Then let's go, Mulder." Her heart was racing. All she wanted was right here, within her reach. "Let's grab Piper and go. We can be out of the country by morning. They'll never find us." She waited breathlessly for Mulder's response. He just stared at her. Mulder looked down to where Scully was unconsciously gripping his hand and squeezed, then moved his eyes back up to hers. It would be so easy, he thought, and she wanted him to go, too. If only he could say yes. "God, I want to, Scully. But we both know we can't. We don't belong here. She's not ours to take." Scully tore her hand from his. "She *is* mine," she insisted, her throat constricting as she held back angry tears, "and I'm taking her whether you come or not." Mulder was momentarily paralyzed with shock as Scully brushed past him. He recovered and followed her back to the bedroom where she had hauled out a suitcase and was busy shoving clothes into it. "Scully? What are you doing?" He pulled at her arm to still her frantic motions. She snatched her arm away. "What does it look like I'm doing, Mulder? I'm leaving." Panic began to rise in Mulder as he watched her pack. This was insane. How could Scully even contemplate stealing another woman's child? He couldn't let her leave here - he couldn't let her leave *him*. "She should be mine, Mulder." "Think about Gillian, Scully. You're taking her daughter." She paused at this and he held his breath. He was counting on her naturally compassionate nature to not allow her to do this. His stomach twisted when she resumed her packing with increased fervor. "I don't care, Mulder. She should be mine," she repeated. "Scully - stop." He moved behind her and grabbed her arms, holding them tightly to still her. "Let me go, Mulder." Her voice had taken on a menacing quality and she had gone still in his arms. Dreading what was to follow but powerless to prevent it, he shook his head. "I can't let you do this, Scully." His grip tightened on her arms. In a flash, Scully had ripped her arms from his grasp and had slammed her elbow backwards into Mulder's solar plexus, knocking the air from his lungs. Mulder doubled over, gasping for air and releasing Scully. When he straightened, Scully was standing a few feet away, warily eyeing him as she assumed a defensive posture. Her face was pale and tight. She whispered. "Don't try and stop me, Mulder. I don't want to fight you." "Then don't, Scully." His voice was hard. "This isn't you, Scully. Look at what you're doing. Think, Scully." "I'm always thinking!" she shouted at him, then lowered her voice to a hissing whisper. "What I *never* do is *feel*. I don't *allow* myself to feel anything anymore, Mulder. Well, now I am. Having a child - " her voice cracked and she paused to regain her composure. "Having a child," she repeated, "is all I have left, Mulder. My life was a path that didn't allow for things like a husband, a 9 to 5 job, a family. Eventually, I wanted that. But before I could - they took them away from me. Well now I have another chance. And I'm *not* going to let them take it again." "I don't want them to, either, Scully. But this isn't the way." "It's the only way I have, Mulder." Silence. Scully's breathing was fast and shallow. Mulder could see her looking beyond him to the door, weighing her options. Her eyes were wild and cornered and he felt as if he were watching a stranger. His heart was hammering in his chest and his stomach felt as if he were going to be sick. This couldn't be happening. He didn't know if he could bring himself to physically restrain Scully, but he also didn't know what other choice he had. Scully thought quickly. If she could just get by Mulder, she could lock him in the bedroom long enough to grab Piper and go. *If* she could get by him. She made her move. Feinting to the left to distract Mulder, she turned to the right and launched herself at the door. Mulder saw her feint for what it was and caught her around the waist as she tried to get by him. Scully's heel came down sharply on his instep and he grunted in pain but doggedly kept his arm around her. She twisted in his grasp and tried to elbow him again but he remembered that trick from earlier and caught her elbow as it came back. Scully's eyes filled with frustrated tears. She didn't want to hurt Mulder but she *had* to get out of here with Piper. Mulder's arms were like bands of steel, effectively trapping her. She continued to struggle. The fight was grim and silent. Mulder hated himself for how tightly he had to hold a struggling Scully. There was barely any flesh covering her ribs and he could feel each one under his hands. His grip had to be hurting her, but she refused to give up. Her well- placed kicks to his shins were rapidly becoming unbearable and her squirming in his arms made holding her like trying to hold a writhing cat. Scully suddenly stilled in his arms. Mulder could feel her heart racing and the rapid rise and fall of her chest from her exertions. He couldn't see her face because her back was to him. His tight hold loosened only slightly and he remained wary. "You're right, Mulder," she said. "I can't do this. It's wrong." Suspicious of her sudden acquiescence, Mulder kept his arms snugly around her. "Are you sure, Scully?" "Yes, Mulder. I'm sure. Let me go. I won't go anywhere." Scully squeezed her eyes shut tightly and hoped Mulder would be able to forgive her. Unwilling to hold Scully against her will any longer than necessary, Mulder slowly loosened his hold on her. Scully waited until Mulder's arms were gone, then she whirled, bringing her arm up until her fist met Mulder's face. For a split second she could see the shock and betrayal in his eyes before her own filled with tears. Turning away before Mulder had an opportunity to react from her punch, she ran through the door, pulling it shut behind her. But before it could latch, Mulder's hand reached through the opening and grabbed the door. They briefly wrestled with the door, Scully vainly trying to shut it even as Mulder dragged it inexorably open. Scully finally released the door. Mulder stood in the doorway, blood seeping from his mouth. Scully's eyes locked with his. What she saw made her blood run cold. She had never, ever been afraid of Mulder. Until now. She turned and ran down the hallway. After only a few steps, she felt Mulder tackle her from behind. Fear lit her eyes as she began to fall under his crushing weight, for she saw what Mulder hadn't. The glass and wooden table directly in her path. Then her head hit the table and the last thing she heard was the horrific noise of breaking glass before everything went black. Mulder scrambled to get off of Scully, all anger draining from him. "Scully?" he questioned, not really expecting an answer but hoping beyond hope that there would be one. Then he saw the blood. "Mommy!!" Piper's scream cut through the stillness of the trailer. Mulder looked up to see Piper climbing down from the couch. "No, Piper. Don't come any closer. There's glass." His voice shook as he restrained the little girl. "Mommy will be okay, just stay here, okay? Let me take care of her." Piper looked dubious, but remained where she was. Mulder hurriedly turned back to Scully. Heedless of the glass, he carefully lifted her in his arms and carried her to the couch. Glass was everywhere. Bits and pieces clung to her clothes and her hair. Remarkably, she seemed unharmed except for a long gash on her forehead and a split lip which was also bleeding. With shaking fingers, he tried to stem the crimson flowing down her cheek. Oh God. He had hurt Scully. He had hurt Scully. The mantra repeated itself over and over. The image flashed in his mind of what he had seen earlier tonight, the bounty hunter in the image of Mulder tossing Scully into a wooden and glass table. Just as he himself had done moments ago. His self- loathing rose like bile in his throat. He dimly became aware of Piper tugging at his arm. "Is mommy okay?" She was sniffling and crying, her arm clutching a teddy bear. Mulder wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "Shh, she's going to be fine. She just has a bad cut, that's all." He hoped Piper couldn't hear the fear in his voice. The silently stared at Scully's pale face, made even whiter by the contrasting hue of the blood. Mulder's breath caught when Scully began to stir. Her eyes slowly opened and found him. "Mul'er?" she said. "I'm here, Scully. You're okay." He closed his eyes in relief as the vice around his heart began to ease. "Wha' happened?" "The table, Scully. I pushed you -" he couldn't finish the sentence. Scully's eyes widened as the fight came back to her. It all seemed like a bad dream. What had she been thinking, attacking Mulder like that? She groaned in shame as the pain in her fist reminded her of its connecting with Mulder's jaw. "What is it? Are you okay?" Mulder anxiously questioned, mistaking her groan for one of pain. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said softly, amazed that he would still give a damn how she felt. "Mommy?" Scully looked down and saw Piper anxiously watching her. Her heart swelled and she slowly lifted an aching limb to caress her hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy just had a bad fall." A knock sounded at the door. Scully quickly glanced at the clock. Nine o'clock. Her heart sank. It was the nanny coming for Piper. For a brief, irrational moment, she considered not answering the door. Maybe the woman would just go away and leave them alone. Scully slowly lifted her head until her eyes met Mulder's. Mulder willed himself to remain silent. This was a decision she had to make. If she wanted to keep Piper and run away, he was no longer going to try and stop her. Truth be told, there was nothing that would prevent him from coming with her - if she still wanted him to. Scully could feel the tears behind her eyes begin to well up. She blinked them back. "Mulder, would you get the door, please?" she requested softly. He slowly nodded before moving away. Scully turned her attention back to Piper. "It's time to go home now, sweets." Piper shook her head vehemently. "No! I wanna stay, Mommy." The plaintive request nearly undid Scully and she struggled to maintain her resolve. "No, Piper. Mommy loves you very much, but it's time to go home now." Her voice trembled slightly. "Will I see you tomorrow, Mommy?" Scully swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile to her face. "Of course, honey. Of course I'll see you tomorrow. You be a good girl for Mommy, okay?" Piper nodded. "Okay, now give Mommy a kiss goodnight." Piper leaned forward and carefully kissed Scully's lips. "Don't forget, Mommy. Eskimo and butterfly." Mulder watched as Piper rubbed her nose against Scully's then giggle as Scully's eyelashes tickled her. He motioned for Piper and she came willingly. Scully didn't turn to watch as Piper went out the door. Piper's face was all Scully saw. She stared at the ceiling, her emotions numb. As she watched Piper, her face slowly blurred, becoming grotesquely malformed. She knew she should do something, cry, throw things...*something*...but it all seemed to be locked behind a wall and she had no key to release it. The passion she felt earlier had evaporated, leaving her empty and listless in its wake. The emptiness threatened to overtake her and for once she was too weary to fight it. She turned to her side and pressed herself deep into the couch, overwhelming hopelessness and apathy embracing her. Mulder worriedly watched Scully. He was unsure of what she was going to do next. He didn't want a replay of the ghastly scene of earlier. Did she want him to leave her alone? She had curled up into an impossibly small ball and turned towards the back of the couch, her face hidden in the cushions. His worry overcame his concern that he would be rejected and he found himself at her side. He lightly touched her shoulder. "Scully..." When she didn't respond, Mulder sank down beside her on the couch. "Scully," he tried again, gently tugging on her arm to roll her towards him. She just shook her head and tried to pull away. "Leave me alone, Mulder. I'm fine." Her voice was flat and muffled by the cushions. Mulder's lips pressed into a thin line. She was fine. After all they had been through tonight, she was again pushing him away. Ruefully, he remembered how he had done the same thing when Sam was taken. Push everyone away, don't let anyone close because when you let someone in, all the horror becomes real. As long as you allow no one to see the pain, the pain remains at bay. He'd lived too many years like that, until Scully had shown him that true freedom from the pain and hurt came when you allowed someone to share those burdens with you. Only then did it become bearable. He was damned if he was going to let Scully make the same mistake he had made for so long. "You're not getting rid of me, Scully," he said, his voice firm and loud enough to break through her stupor, even though he didn't know if his heart could stand her rejection. Scully said nothing for a moment, then, more forcefully "Go, Mulder. I want to be alone." "No, Scully," Mulder said resolutely, his heart pounding, "I'm not going to leave you." He paused. His eyes closed. He desperately hoped he was about to do the right thing. He had to. It was his turn to save *her*. His eyes opened again, his hand tightly gripped her arm. He took a deep breath. "And the reason I'm not leaving you, Scully," he forced the words past the sudden fear in his throat, "is because I love you." The silence in the room seemed deafening to Mulder's ears. Scully slowly turned toward Mulder. When her eyes finally found his, Mulder decided to go for broke. "I've loved you since you first stepped into the basement with me, Scully. I didn't want to - I tried so damn hard not to. But you made it impossible. Everything about you beckoned me, Scully. Your insight, your intellect, your questions - your constant questions. Your willingness to listen to me - do you realize you were the first person to ever really *listen* to me, Scully? Not to mention how many times you've saved my ass and put yours on the line for me." Tears had begun to stream from the corners of Scully's eyes, leaving tiny wet trails into her hair. Encouraged, Mulder continued, spilling everything he'd kept inside for years. "Do you know when I realized I loved you, Scully?" he asked. She shook her head. "When I sat at your bedside after you were returned to me, the night I almost lost you. All I could think of was how much I loved you and how I was never going to be able to tell you." His voice cracked slightly with emotion but he kept going, his voice now almost a whisper. "I swore if you survived, I would tell you." His eyes blinked rapidly to regain focus through the blur of unshed tears as he fought for control. "But I didn't, Scully. I was too afraid you'd leave me. I was a coward, Scully. But I'm not going to make that mistake again. I'm telling you now, that I love you with all that I am, all that I have inside me." His confession finally came to a halt. "Oh, Mulder," Scully whispered, "Don't love me," she said, her voice roughened by tears. "Look at what I did to you." Her eyes fixed on the blood now drying on his face. She slowly lifted shaking fingers and lightly touched his bruised mouth. "It's okay, Scully. I understand," he said, grasping her hand. And he really did. Who's to say he would have reacted differently had he been her? "And I wasn't exactly easy on you, either." His eyes reluctantly fell on the angry cuts on her forehead and lip. "Mulder - I'm so sorry." Scully's face crumpled as the tears began again in earnest. She had never felt so lost, ashamed and alone in her life. She had turned on the one person who meant the most to her, who understood, more than anyone, what she must be feeling. And she had betrayed him, hurt him. "Shh, it's okay. Scully..." Mulder gently pulled Scully up into his arms, cradling her head to his chest. Her body shook with the force of her silent weeping and he held her tightly, wanting her to feel him there with her. Her sobs tore at his heart and he knew what it meant for someone you love to hurt and be powerless to do anything to ease the anguish. Unable to do more, he rocked her softly in his arms, murmuring soothing words to her. Scully felt as though years of unshed tears were pouring from her soul. Grief for her father, for Melissa, for Mulder, for herself. It all came pouring out, memories and images flashing through her mind wrenching more sobs from her throat. The weight of Mulder's comforting arms only added to her mortification and regret at her behavior this evening. Humiliated, she tried to pull away from him, but his grasp held her close, unyielding. Finally, she gave up and relaxed into his embrace. The flow of tears was now beginning to ebb from Scully's burning eyes. She released a deep sigh, feeling as though a great burden had been lifted from her heart. It felt so good to release the years of pent-up grief and frustration of the horrors that had befallen them - cleansing even. Scully also realized what had made releasing that pain bearable had been Mulder at her side. The reality of what Mulder had said - that he loved her - seemed to good to be true. Had she been dreaming? Had he really said all those things to her? Cautiously, Scully drew back slightly, tilting her head back to look at Mulder. Sensing Scully had regained her composure, Mulder reluctantly released the firm hold he had on her, loathe to break the soothing contact. Scully had finally allowed him inside her walls - though he had needed to comfort her as much as she had needed to be comforted. He tried not to notice the growing nausea of panic in his stomach from Scully not acknowledging or returning his declaration of love. Scully needed him now and he wouldn't let her down, he could crawl into a hole and die later. She was looking at him now, those blue eyes staring at him as if attempting to read his very soul. He really did not want to be the object of her attention right now. Don't mind me, I'll just crawl away and lick my wounds in private, he thought wryly. "Mulder-" Damn! Now she wanted to talk. Was this it? Did he get to hear the "Let's just be friends" speech? He had just made the mistake he swore he'd never do...and now he was going to lose her. It wouldn't be the same, not after what he said- "make love to me." -no matter how much they pretended- what? Had Scully just said- "What did you just say?" he asked, incredulous. Scully shyly dropped her eyes, her arms slowly winding their way around his neck as she fitted her body more closely to his. "Make love to me, Mulder. Here. Tonight." Mulder was speechless. This wasn't Scully - it looked like Scully and sounded like Scully - but Scully would never ask him, Fox Mulder, to make love to her as casually as if she were asking for a lift home. "Scully? Are you okay? Do you feel all right? Your head...your head hit really hard, Scully." He gently probed her scalp for a telltale bump. "Mulder, I'm fine," she said, grasping his hand and tugging it away from her head. Her eyes lifted to his and he was immediately transfixed. His senses abruptly heightened, he could feel the softness of her hand holding his. He could smell the scent of the candles burning in the room and also the sweeter aroma of her skin. He could hear the inhalation of her breath filling her lungs. "Please, Mulder. I need you. Make love to me." Mulder felt as if he were caught in a trance and was powerless to do anything less than what she asked of him. She said she needed him - not loved him. His heart sank. It was okay, really. If she couldn't give him her love, he would take what she could give. She needed him. That would be enough. He would make it be enough. Mulder gently brushed Scully's hair back from her face, pausing a moment to let the fiery strands slip through his fingers. He gazed into her eyes. She was expectant, waiting for his seduction, avidly following his every movement. She looked for all the world as if she were a child anticipating a forbidden treat. The thought awed Mulder. He didn't know whether to be flattered or panicked that Scully believed his making love to her was going to be well worth the wait. But he wasn't about to disappoint her. His fingers softly traced the line of her cheek before coming to rest under her chin. Tilting her face towards his, Mulder leaned down and delicately brushed her lips with his. Once. Twice. He softly traced the countours of Scully's lips, his tongue briefly touching the line where her lips met, seeking entrance. Mulder felt her shiver under his hands as she willingly opened her mouth beneath him, a soft whimper escaping her throat. A flood of tenderness washed over Mulder and he wrapped his right arm tighter around Scully's waist, pulling her close, while the other nestled her head in the bend of his elbow. Her taste excited him. Her mouth was so hot, her tongue so soft. He could spend hours just kissing her. But the smooth skin of her neck was too tempting to resist. His lips touched the pulse under her jaw, feeling the strong, rapid beat. Mulder inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating fragrance of her skin. He could hear her breath, coming in small, quick pants. Her hands clutched his shoulders and he could feel the tender scrape of her nails as his mouth left a moist trail of kisses down her neck. Her passion amazed him though he had always suspected its existence. It now threatened to make him forget his intentions to take it slow. The urge to rip off her clothes and bury himself inside her was overwhelming. He struggled to maintain his control. He wanted to take his time. They had waited so long for this. Think about something else, anything else, he kept repeating in his mind. Anything that would make his body slow down. Finally, a semblance of control returned. Then fled as Scully drew her leg across his, positioning herself facing him in his lap. A groan escaped Mulder's lips as she pressed her softness against him. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, a look of satisfaction in her eyes. "What's wrong? Don't you want me, Mulder?" she asked, her voice all innocence. Mulder's threaded his hand through her hair, letting the silken mass tangle in his fingers before closing his hand into a fist, the captured strands tilting her head back. Scully gasped at the mild pain before Mulder's mouth came crushing down on hers. Her mouth willingly opened under his. Their tongues entwined together in a deep kiss that seemed as if they were trying to touch the essence of the other. Barely parting enough to breathe, Mulder was relentless in his seduction of her mouth. But she wanted more. She reached between them for the button on his jeans, only to find her wrist caught in his grip. "Not here, Scully." Startled, Scully was about to ask him why the hell not when she suddenly felt herself being lifted. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. Mulder faltered in his steps down the hall. "Scully, don't do that or we'll never make it to the bed," he groaned. She was hardly any weight at all in his arms and he marveled at how this petite woman held such strength and passion. But if she didn't stop rubbing against him, he was going to make love to her in the hallway. She seemed to sense this and relaxed her hold against him. He thought he was out of the woods until her lips found his neck. Her tongue lapped at the tender skin where his neck met his shoulder and he felt an answering throb from his groin. "Scully..." he sighed. He had to get to the bed *now*. Mulder reached the bedroom and pushed the door open. Walking to the bed, he gently laid her down amongst the pillows before quickly stripping off his shirt and toeing off his shoes. Layin down beside her, he gathered her into his arms, his lips again finding hers. Scully's hands caressed his shoulders and back, enjoying the hard muscle under her palms. Pushing his chest gently, he rolled over onto his back until she lay on top of him. Her mouth sought the rough texture of his skin, bestowing tiny kisses along the jawline she had observed countless times. Her head sank lower to his neck and inhaled the faint scent of cologne that still lingered. Mulder bit back a groan as Scully trailed her tongue down his throat to his collarbone, the heat of her mouth scorching his skin like a brand. His hand clutched her hip when her questing tongue found his nipple. If they wanted this to last any time at all, she was going to have to stop. Wrapping his arms around her, Mulder sat up in the bed, drawing Scully's legs around his waist. His fingers quickly found the buttons on her shirt and was soon pushing it off her shoulders to reveal her unencumbered breasts. The faint light filtering through the window made the pale skin of her breasts seem to glow. She looked ethereal, like a beautiful porceline goddess. Her hair wildly framing her face, its color a burnished gold. Her mouth, glisteningly wet, was slightly parted to reveal pearl-like teeth. Her eyes were darkened by desire, the lashes lowered slightly and casting faint shadows on her cheeks. Mulder was caught by her beauty and simply watched her, his eyes drinking their fill and memorizing every line of her body. Scully reached down for Mulder's hand, taking it in her own. She briefly hesitated before pressing it to her breast. "Touch me, Mulder." Mulder shivered, excitement coursing through him. His blood seemed on fire in his veins. Obediently, his hands caressed her. Her skin was cool silk against the roughness of his palms. His fingertips trailed lightly across the tops of her breasts before cupping their soft fullness. When his thumbs grazed the tips, Scully whimpered, her head falling back in pleasure. "Scully - " Mulder was enraptured. His mouth was begging to taste her skin. Leaning forward, he captured a nipple with his teeth. A flick of his tongue and Scully's nails dug into his shoulders. He lapped the exquisite bud before drawing it into his mouth, his eyes drifting closed. His hands moved to the tops of her jeans. Unfastening them was easy but they weren't going to come off in this position. Turning, he pressed Scully down to the bed, then sat back on his haunches, tugging her jeans past her hips. Once they were off, his hands returned to her hips, briefly stroking her thighs before sliding her panties down her smooth legs. Finally, she was naked before him. Mulder's eyes on her body was intoxicating. They traveled everywhere, seeming to memorize the curves and texture of her skin. The eroticism struck Scully, her being naked while he still had clothes on. His hands were touching her now, drifting up her legs to her hips before closing around the narrow span of her waist. She had dreamt of this for so long that even now, it seemed a surreal dream. Her stomach trembled beneath his featherlight touch, then all thought fled when he nudged open her thighs and lightly touched her. Parting her folds, Mulder caressed her slickened center, the heat from her body branding him. Avidly, he watched her face. She was beautiful, her eyes tightly shut while her body writhed on the bed. Her hands clutched the bedcovers in tight fists. Slowly, he inserted one of his fingers inside her while his thumb continued to massage her clit. "Ahh...Mulder!" she gasped, her pelvis arching off the bed into his hand. Blindly, she felt his lips once again on hers. Greedily, she opened her mouth to receive his kiss. The stroking of his tongue matched that of his hand and was quickly driving her over the edge. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her. Keeping her mouth on his, she rolled him to his back as her hands went to his jeans. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally his clothes were gone. Scully stretched her body on top of his, the sensual feeling of skin- on-skin making her feel drugged. Mulder's arms wrapped around her, pressing her closer. Unwillingly, she dragged her mouth from his, laying her fingers over his lips when he protested. "Mulder, I need to tell you -" He shifted her body atop his, her legs falling to either side of him. His erection pressed up to her, stroking the swollen flesh between her legs and wrenching a gasp from her lips. "Wait, Mulder," she struggled to keep her train of thought, "I have to tell you." "Tell me what, Scully," Mulder mumbled, his mouth finding her shoulder. "Mulder," she pushed herself upward slightly, away from his tantalizing mouth. "I want to tell you, before we -" she paused. "I love you, too." Mulder went still beneath her. His eyes searching hers, trying to guage the truthness of her words. "It's true, Mulder," Scully said, "I've loved you for so long." Her hand lightly touched his hair as a small smile curved her lips. "For so long," she whispered. Mulder grasped her hand in his and held for a moment. She loved him, too. He would have taken a moment to savor her words, but she began kissing his chest and his thoughts were taken elsewhere. Scully slipped off Mulder to one side and continued working her way down his body. She paid particular attention to his stomach. She had always been partial to this part of a man's anatomy. Her tongue circled his navel before dipping inside. With satisfaction, she heard Mulder's answering groan. His hands were busy touching every part of her he could reach. She faltered slightly when his hand slipped around her backside to touch again between her legs. It was rapidly becoming a contest to see who could drive the other senseless first. Trying to concentrate against the insistent stroking of his fingers, her hands found his erection. One hand cupped his balls while the other guided his cock to her waiting mouth. She was rewarded by another groan from Mulder and his fingers stilled. Now undistracted, she slowly licked the length of his cock. Her tongue circled the tip but she didn't take it in her mouth and instead lapped the drop of fluid she found there. Finally, Scully's mouth closed over him causing Mulder's hips to jerk upward. She savored the taste and feel of him in her mouth, the mere thought of what she was doing to Mulder almost enough to make her come. Mulder's groans filled the room as she took more and more of him into her mouth, her tongue stroking his length and teasing the tip. Mulder wasn't about to be outdone by Scully and he struggled to remember what he had been doing. With renewed vigor, his fingers stroked Scully's clit. He inserted two, then three of his fingers inside her, pumping in and out as his thumb circled her swollen nub. He could hear her moans, muffled by his cock filling her mouth, and she pushed backwards into his hand. Scully felt as if her body were on fire. She licked and sucked him, swallowing his cock until her lips were around the base, taking all of him in her mouth. He responded, his hips pumping his cock into her mouth in time with the pumping of his fingers inside her body. She whimpered slightly when she felt Mulder's fingers suddenly withdraw from her, then was puzzled when he shifted slightly, pulling her legs towards his head. He lifted one leg over him until her knees lay on either side of his head. Slightly embarrassed by the new position, Scully tried to pull away but his hands closed on her hips, effectively keeping her there. Mulder's eyes drank in the sight before him -- Scully's wet and glistening clit mere inches from his mouth. He could smell the scent of her arousal and it fueled his hunger. He parted her knees further, bringing her closer to him. Scully tore her mouth from Mulder. She knew what he was going to do and wanted to stop him. No one had ever done that to her before - it always seemed too embarrassing, too vulnerable. "Muld-" Her voice stopped functioning when she felt the warm slide of his tongue. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Softer than his hands, it worked its way inside her folds and found the small bundle of nerves that was the center of her desire. When Mulder began licking and sucking, Scully's legs began to shake. "Oh, god!" The scream tore itself from her throat and she could feel the bite of tears behind her eyelids. His tongue felt so good...so good. Scully's scream shot straight to Mulder's cock and he felt it leap in response. He had to be inside her...Now. He quickly moved out from under her and pulled her down onto her back. She seemed to know what he was doing, her legs parting of their own accord. With one stroke he was inside her, stretching and filling her. Scully's legs circled his waist as she arched upward to meet his thrusts. Her lips were parted provocatively and he kissed her. Scully could taste herself on his tongue and the sensuality and intimacy of it amazed her. Mulder inside her mouth and body was like a sensory overload. His hands held her hips and he shifted angles just slightly, but it was enough. Her hands clutched his shoulders as she felt the pressure inside her build. She was so close.... Finally, the release she sought crashed over her, waves of pleasure washing through her body. It seemed to go on and on, accentuated by Mulder still thrusting into her. Mulder's mouth leaving hers and his hands on either side of her face made her open her eyes. He was looking at her, his eyes suspiciously wet and intently focused on hers. "Scully - I love you," he whispered hoarsely. Then she felt him shudder inside her, his eyes slamming shut. She reveled in his pleasure, her ears greedily drinking in his groans as he came. Spent, he collapsed beside her. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her tenderly. "Scully." He made her name sound like a prayer. Smiling, she curled into his embrace, pillowing her head on his chest, and quickly fell asleep. Mulder tried mightily to keep his eyes open. They had to get up soon so they would be ready when the Professor came at midnight. But he was so tired. Maybe if he just rested his eyes for a minute, that would help.... His eyes drifted closed and soon he was fast asleep. The Professor silently took in the scene before him. Mulder and Scully enfolded in each others arms, the blissful state of slumber making them unaware of his presence. Scully's bare leg was intimately nestled between Mulder's thighs, her breasts hidden against his naked chest. The Professor sighed. This could complicate matters. He had worried briefly about leaving them alone together here, in this altered reality, but had brushed aside the concern as needless. They had been together for a long time and had never caused undue concern in this area. He glanced down at his watch. The coordinates had been set, now it was only a matter of a few more seconds. He only hoped he wouldn't be punished for this new development between the two agents. A whisper of wind foretold of the coming tesseract and the Professor prepared himself for the swift journey.... ******************* When he opened his eyes, the Professor saw a familiar figure in a cloud of cigarette smoke standing before him. Fear tightened his chest. "I see the plans went somewhat more awry than we had thought," the smoking man said. "Uh, yes, um, it was quite unexpected," the Professor stammered in reply. "But it, too, can be fixed." The cigarette glowed briefly as the man drew in a deep breath. "You had better hope so." He turned and walked away. Relief washed over the Professor, making his ashen face again regain color. He had escaped punishment...for now. To keep it at bay, he had to fix the mistakes that had been made. He turned and walked toward a laboratory at the far end of the underground cavern, the opposite direction the cigarette smoking man had taken. Inside the laboratory, his staff were already at work. Three were grouped around one surgical table, three around the other. He quickly grabbed a mask and joined them. "How is it going?" he asked. "Well," replied one of the technicians, "they fought at first, of course, but were subdued." He nodded toward a hypodermic needle on a nearby tray. "Not before he broke Mike's nose and damn near broke my arm, though. She was nastier," he gestured towards the other table, "quite a fighter. Since then, the work has gone relatively quickly. We should be finished in a few minutes." "Good. We want to put them back in position right away." The Professor retreated to stand by the laboratory wall and wait. Thank the heavens, he was going to get out of this mess after all. ********************** Mulder was dreaming. He was in a warm bed with Scully. She was laying on top of him, talking to him, saying something important, something he must remember. She was also very naked. Her skin glowed in the low light and he could see her lips moving, telling him something that made his heart leap in his chest. But the words were silent, he couldn't hear them. Then it all changed and he was surrounded by men in white, plastic suits. They were taking Scully. They had her by the arms and were pulling her away from him. "Scully!" He violently ripped his arms from those that held him. The came at him, faceless behind the dark suit masks. Blindly, he struck with his fists, making contact once before being caught again. Try as he might he couldn't free himself. Helplessly, he watched Scully as they took her further and further from him. She fought. With her teeth and her nails and any other way she could damage them. But it was hopeless. There were too many. Her eyes found his and she cried out to him. "Mulder! Mulder, help me! Don't let them take me! Don't let them - Mulder!" The last was a scream of agony. "Scully!" He meant it to be a scream, instead it was a tortured whisper. "Scully!" Mulder's eyes shot open. In a moment he was on his feet, his shaking hand reaching for his gun. But it wasn't there. Only then did he look around and see where he was. He was home. In his apartment. There were no men holding him down. There was no Scully screaming his name. Still frantic, Mulder quickly checked the room, his body still drenched in sweat from the dream, his heart still pounding in his ears. Finally, a semblance of calm returned to him. It was just a dream, a really, really bad dream. Probably stemming from the night he had listened in horror as his answering maching played the recorded message of Scully crying out to him for help when Duane Barry took her. But it had been so real....If he tried hard enough, he thought he could smell her scent on his clothes, feel the softness of her skin beneath his hands. His lips ached for hers and he was rocked by a sense of loss so deep he could feel it twist in his gut. He sat on the couch and numbly held his head in his trembling hands. Think, Mulder, think, he thought to himself. Get ahold of yourself. It was just a dream. It *had* to just be a dream. Like all the other dreams about Scully. We wrapped up the monkey baby case, came back here and I last saw Scully last night. Or was it tonight? He glanced at his watch. Tonight. It was 3:37 a.m. There was no way he was sleeping any more tonight. Time for a run. He had to get the adrenaline the dream had produced out of his system. He jerked on his running shoes and hit the door. *********************** "Mulder!" The scream wrenched itself from Scully's throat and she sat up in bed, her eyes wildly searching the room. The silence of the walls mocked her. She reached for the clock. 3:40 a.m. She fell back against the pillows with a sigh, her heart racing in her chest. Her body slick with sweat, she threw off the heavy comforter. The satin of her night shirt stuck to her body and she impatiently shed its heavy confines. Naked, she got out of bed and padded to the bathroom. A quick throw of the switch and light bathed the room, chasing away the final remnants of the dream. It had been so horrible, she shuddered just thinking about it. At first it had been wonderful, she and Mulder in bed together, naked, making love. More real than her usual dreams of him which had made it all the better. Then it had abruptly turned nightmarish. Men, in white suits, dragging her by the arms. Mulder, his face a mask of terror as he watched them take her, heedless of the men surrounding him. She called to him and he fought to get to her, his wild punches landing blows on a few of the men before being overpowered. She hadn't meant to call out to him, but the fear had been so strong. She knew they were going to hurt her, hurt them, and the fear had driven every other thought from her mind. She called Mulder's name again, a pain driven into her thigh making it a scream she knew would devastate Mulder, but was helpless to keep inside. Then she woke up. Scully splashed some water on her face, trying to forget the last part of the dream and concentrate on the first part - the wonderful part. She dried her face and looked at herself in the mirror. There, she abruptly stilled. She seemed to be looking at herself, but it was as if she weren't. The woman in the mirror had her face, but the expression was different - the eyes were different. The woman was saying something to her, and smiling. Then she turned backward as if hearing her name spoken. As Scully watched, a child appeared, obviously the woman's daughter, the resemblance was so strong. So strong, she could have been Scully's daughter. Laughing, the woman pressed a kiss to the little girl's lips and hugged her tight. Scully squeezed her eyes shut tightly. When she reopened them, the woman was gone. Scully pressed trembling hands to her brow as her real reflection stared back at her. She studied herself and tried to dismiss the disturbing vision of the woman and child. Her lips were red and swollen, as if they had been most thoroughly kissed. The sensitive skin around her breasts was flushed and scraped as if from a man's beard stubble. Finally, she noticed a soreness between her legs, one that only comes from a certain activity. With trepidation, she slid a hand between her legs. Her breath caught in her chest as her fingers found a telltale stickiness. Oh god, what had happened to her? What had they done to her now? Leaning over the sink, she vomited. When she was through, she again splashed water on her face and tried desperately to remember anything out of the ordinary from the past few hours since she and Mulder had returned to D.C. But it was like trying to remember the dream. Her mind grasped but the gossamer threads slipped from her grasp. All that kept hammering at her was Mulder. MulderMulderMulderMulder. It had something to do with Mulder. Numbly, she went to her living room and curled up on the couch, huddled under a blanket. Silently, she stared out the window into the night. ************************ Mulder ran as if the devil himself were chasing him. Without realizing, he found himself running in the direction of Scully's neighborhood. He stopped running. A look at his watch told him it was now 4 a.m. He couldn't wake her now...could he? Tomorrow was Saturday, he tried rationalizing to himself. She wouldn't mind, he was sure...well, almost sure. He just had to make sure she was okay. And he couldn't wait until Monday. What if something had happened to her tonight? A taxi was driving by and Mulder quickly let out a shrill whistle before he could change his mind. A word to the driver and he was on his way. ************************ A pounding in her mind interrupted another dream. The beautiful little girl had reappeared and Scully was giving her a bath. Scully opened her eyes. It was the door. Who would be pounding on her door at this time of night? She glanced at the clock. Four-fifteen. Mulder. It had to be. With a sudden attack of butterflies in her stomach, Scully got up from the couch, dragging the blanket along with her to cover her nakedness. A quick look through her peephole told her she had been right. It was Mulder. She opened the door. And was immediately overwhelmed with a sense that something was different, with him, with her - with them. There was an intimacy there that hadn't been present...before? Before what? Trying to shake off the strange feeling of deja vu, she queried him. "Mulder? What are you doing?" "Scully-" The frantic look on his face disappeared immediately. When he said nothing else, Scully again asked, "Mulder? What are you doing here? It's 4 a.m. Are you okay?" Mulder seemed to come out of his stupor. "Yeah, Scully, yeah, I'm okay. I just-" He stopped. "You just what, Mulder?" "I just was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." He flashed the grin he knew could get him out of almost anything. "Oh really," Scully's brow arched in disbelief. She looked him over. He was in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that looked too small for him as it was stretched tight across his chest and arms. He had on tennis shoes. "Have you been running, Mulder? At this time of night?" She was concerned. She knew he didn't sleep that well but this was a little strange, even for him. Maybe he knew something about what happened to her, maybe that was why he was here. But she didn't know how she could ask without divulging her own revelations. He didn't answer because he was too busy taking in her state of dress, or rather, lack thereof. The blanket was clutched to her chest, baring her arms and shoulders, the rest trailing behind her like a train. Scully cleared her throat and pulled the blanket a bit tighter, forcing Mulder's eyes back up to hers. "Are you okay?" she asked, worried despite her mild embarrassment at his perusal. "I'm fine, Scully. Listen, I-," he paused, "sorry I woke you. I'm going now. Have a good weekend, Scully." As long as he knew she was okay, he could leave her. "Are you sure, Mulder? Do you want to come in?" Scully held her breath, wanting him to come in but also not wanting him to. If he did, she was sure she would end up telling him about the signs of sex on her body, the origin of which she was unaware. But if he didn't, she didn't know if she'd ever find the courage to tell him -- or to even acknowledge it to herself. Scully stepped back away from the door and he could see beyond her into the darkened apartment. The desire to accompany her into that darkness was indescribably strong - stronger than he'd ever felt it before. She looked...incredible. Mulder had a sudden urge to kiss her, a memory of sweet softness and the taste of her mouth drifting into his mind. That's ridiculous, he thought, shaking himself. His imagination was being a little overactive tonight. There was no way he could know what it felt like to kiss Scully. He'd fantasized it a thousand times and would certainly remember if that particular fantasy had ever come true. "No, I'm heading home," he said reluctantly, forcing his tone to be one of exhaustion. "I've ran a ways tonight and just want to hit the sack." "Oh, okay." If he didn't know better, he could have sworn she looked disappointed. "Well, then I'll see you Monday," she said. "Goodnight." "Goodnight." The door softly closed. Only when Mulder heard the snick of the lock snapping into place did he turn and leave. ********************* Six Weeks Later Scully impatiently waited for the doctor to return. She wasn't feeling well and wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. She didn't know why she bothered with these yearly gynecological exams anyway, the thought tinged with bitterness. But the doctor's office had called to remind her of the appointment so here she was. A doctor herself, she couldn't bring herself to knowingly neglect the care of her body, even though she may want to. They had finished the exam and then wanted to take some blood. Just a precaution, the doctor had said. Scully could tell them the exact state of the cancer but the doctors always wanted to run their own tests anyway. Not that she could blame them. She'd probably do the same thing in their position. The thought was quickly dismissed by Scully as she tried to curb another wave of nausea. The flu was going around and it looked like she probably had caught it. She hadn't been able to keep anything down the last few days and was beginning to have trouble hiding it from Mulder. If he knew, he'd want her to stay home and the last thing she wanted to do was sit alone in her apartment climbing the walls. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable wait, the doctor came back. "Sorry for the wait, Dana," she said with a smile, "we wanted to run a few tests." "Anything new?" Scully asked, knowing the doctor's face would then crease into a concerned frown as she told Scully what she already knew about the progression of the cancer. ********************** Mulder quickly hopped out of his car and entered the cleaners. He'd dropped off some things a few weeks ago and had been too busy to pick them up. Well, Scully said she had an appointment this morning and wouldn't be in until late so he thought it was as good a time as any to do a few errands. "Agent Mulder! Good to see you!" Larry, the owner of the store, said to him. Mulder had been coming here for years and Larry knew him as a loyal regular. "Hey, Larry - sorry it's taken me so long. Been busy lately. Lot of cases." Actually, there had hardly been any cases, much to his frustration, but it sounded good. "No problem, I understand. I was going to give you at least another day before I sold them," the twinkle in his eye belied his feisty words. Mulder grinned at the old man. "I knew I could count on you, Larry." "Actually," the owner said, "I found something in one of your jacket pockets. I'm glad I looked, you certainly wouldn't want to lose it, I'm sure." He reached under the counter and pulled out an envelope. "I put it in there so nothing would happen to it." He handed it over to Mulder. ********************** "Well, there is some new news, Dana. Though I'm not sure you're expecting it." Taken aback, Scully asked, "Something new? About the cancer?" "No, it's not about the cancer," the doctor said carefully. "What is it?" Scully was mystified. ********************* "You found this in my pocket?" Mulder asked, mystified. He was sure he had cleaned out his pockets before bringing them to the cleaners. He opened the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper inside. The envelope floated from his stunned fingers. "I didn't know you were married, Agent Mulder," Larry said. "I guess congratulations are in order." The words fell on deaf ears. Mulder hand began to shake slightly, blurring the photograph he held. A photograph of Mulder beside Scully... who was sitting up in a hospital bed. Mulder's right arm was around Scully and his left...his left was cradling the baby she held in her arms. ********************* "Dana," the doctor said gently, "you're pregnant." ********************* EPILOGUE Professor Krinsky nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another. Reaching in his pocket, he withdrew a limp handkerchief and mopped his sweating brow with a shaking hand. He cleared his dry throat and eyed the man sitting behind the desk, cool, calm and collected. The silence brought on by his confession to the smoking man was making him decidely uneasy. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer and spoke. "It was unforseen, this event. I don't know how we could have prevented it." A puff of smoke escaped the man's mouth as he bit back a reply, "You could have prevented it by not screwing up in the first place." Krinsky gulped, his eyes widening. He might pay for this mistake with his life. "How did it happen?" the smoking man asked. "Uh, sir, well, as I explained before about the cancer, in that parallel, Gillian - er - Scully, doesn't have cancer. Hence the cancer disappeared." "But it came back, correct?" "Oh, yes, sir, it did. But as I was saying, in that parallel, the Gillian/Scully body was different than here. In that parallel, the body is as fertile as any other normal human woman's. When she and Mulder..." he faltered. Deciding the smoking man didn't need an education as to the exact nature of pregnancy, he went on. "So, um, anyway, she was able to conceive." The smoking man paused, seeming to mull this over. "But if the cancer came back, wouldn't it be rational to assume that her condition of infertility would also return?" "Y-yes," Krinsky stuttered. "Well then, she most likely will miscarry, won't she." It didn't seem to be a question, more of a statement of fact. "Well, actually," Krinsky said, wondering why he would dare dispute the man who could end his life on a mere whim, "she could end up carrying the baby full term. The pregnancy has remained for six weeks." "So, in other words, you don't know what's going to happen, do you, *Professor*." His sarcastic emphasis on Krinsky's title made him wince in fear. His eyes drifted to the floor when he finally replied in a small voice, "No, sir, I do not." THE END