From: "Finn" To: ; Date: Wednesday, May 22, 2002 5:24 PM Title : Renaissance Author: Finn Feedback : temple_of_low_men@yahoo.co.uk Disclaimer : Not mine, but then, not really anyone else's anymore. So there. Rating : NC-17 in the middle, but you can skip that bit and not lose anything from the story Category : MSR, MAngst Spoilers : Um, anything pre-season 7. You know, the REAL x-files. Author's notes: I wrote this nigh on 2 years ago now and it was my very first foray into fan fic. It turned into a bit of an epic and has sat on my hard drive since. Well, prompted to clear the computer up by the promise of a shiny new one, I stumbled across it again....so there you go. Let me know what you think....please! Also - I'm a Brit, so my cousins in other countries should ignore slips in slang e.t.c. I've tried to eliminate them! ------------------ Renaissance "I've told you before. This doesn't stop. It won't stop. If you kill me, you kill but one fragment of a whole. A piece of a giant entity. One man alone cannot stop the future." He lit another cigarette and pursed his thin, yet rubbery lips around the smouldering stick. He never took his eyes off of the tall, dark haired younger man pointing a gun at him from across the room. He dared a smug curling of the lips, and the young man reaffirmed his grip on the gun. "Why should I believe anything you say? Your whole life is about deceit. About lies and dishonesty. At least if I kill you, I settle a score." His voice was little above a menacing whisper, but the emotion was felt through it. The smoking man raised an eyebrow at the last statement. "A score, Alex?" he took the cigarette from his lips "What have I done to you besides provide you with a job, and the means to become a powerful man?" Krycek took a couple of steps closer to the desk . "You don't even know do you? We've been working together for years and you haven't worked it out, you son of a …" "Now, now, Alex" Smoking man cut Krycek off. "Don't you think that before I die, I deserve to be informed of why exactly I am being killed?" He took another drag, almost uninterested at the scene unfolding in his office. Krycek considered him for a moment. "You deserve nothing other than 6 rounds of bullets emptied into your chest." He bit. He edged closer to the desk behind which his adversary was seated. The older man looked nothing if not amused by this whole picture. His smugness made Krycek want to shoot him all the more. But, he wanted him to remember. He wanted him to know why he was being killed. It would be a pointless exercise otherwise. Never relaxing his stance, lowering his gun or breaking eye contact, he began to relate his story. "When I was 13, I was living in a New York slum with my parents. We were illegal immigrants, and all we could afford was a room that we shared with another family. I saw some horrendous things there. Emaciated old people, forced to live in their own filth. Starving children. People who's families had been murdered and were all alone in their madness." He blinked twice in quick succession, trying to clear images from his head. "The family we lived with had a son, 2 years younger than me, Demei. He treated me like a brother. We would be sent out to collect what food we could from dumpsters, or steal it from hot dog carts and stores. We returned home one day to find everyone had gone. We panicked and separated to search the building. I found nothing, no-one, so I went to find Demei. I heard him scream, and hid as I saw him being bundled out of the door and into a waiting truck by a huge man. It was then I heard the cries of my friends and family inside the truck. I dared not show myself for fear of being taken. I couldn't - and wouldn't go to the police, so I waited until the man had joined some other men in the cab, and ran to conceal myself in a small compartment hanging from the side of the truck, underneath." He swallowed hard, remembering the absolute terror he had felt, being able to hear the petrified screams of his family and friends, inches above him. He remembered waiting silently, powerless to do anything, but wait. "I thought we were being sent back. Then we stopped. My people were beaten by men and told to get out of the truck. When it was quiet again, I got out of my hiding place to find myself inside what I now know was a disused military air base. I wandered blindly through the facility, peering through doors and windows, trying to work out where I was." He shifted slightly from one foot to the other, trying to defy the tears that wanted to come. "It was after hours that I found myself looking in at a room full of beds, kind of like a hospital. Each and every one of them was occupied by someone from our building. Except they were different, their gaze was vacant, they were dead inside. I found my parents, and tried to rouse them, but they didn't even acknowledge I was there. "And then I saw Demei, crouched in a corner, crying. I approached him, and saw that he hadn't been changed. He was obviously too young to be of any use to the testers. He told me that men had come and injected the people with oil. The people's eyes had turned black, and then they were people no more. He had tried to wake his parents and they had not even looked at him. I tried to keep him quiet, but he was getting hysterical, and we were discovered." The smoking man inclined his head slightly, as if urging him to continue, but retaining a smug disinterestedness with it. "You led the party of men who descended upon us and beat us so bad that we couldn't move. You killed Demei and left me for dead in an alley. I somehow managed to get up and find shelter. I swore then to myself that I would find revenge for my family against you." "So this is all about revenge then Alex? I can tell you from experience that revenge is empty. It serves no purpose other that some obscene personal need for deliverance. Power is what really lasts." He gave a thin smile, as if he had disclosed a great secret. "You can't bargain your way out of this. I can have all the power I want when you're gone." "But no experience to guide your use of it. You could be my heir Alex, I could teach you things." He shook his head defiantly. "No, No, it's not going to happen. I've waited too long. If I drop this now, You'll have me killed before I can get out of this building. I'll admit, now I know the full extent of the plan, it really is quite overwhelming. Abducting groups of immigrants, who no one would miss, quite clever. Then using them as lab rats for your plan. Well, it's more accurate than guessing what the effects were, I suppose. "I've blackmailed and threatened several people to get myself where I am, into the F.B.I and then into the syndicate. I kept up the charade for years, biding my time until I was ready to overthrow you and expose your schemes. Mulder can stop colonisation, and I want to give him the chance." The smoking man merely smiled. A sickening, evil smile. "As I've told you before Alex, one man alone cannot change the fate of the whole world." Krycek was directly in front of him now, and leaned over, grabbing the smoking man's collar with his good hand, pulling him over the desk towards him. "Isn't that exactly what you've done?" He spat, before switching hands and holding the Smith and Wesson in his good hand at lightning quick speed. He pushed the tip of the gun deep into the smoking man's temple and pulled the trigger. He was dead immediately. A still alight cigarette at his lips. -------------------------------------------------------------- J. Edgar Hoover Building Basement office Friday, 29th July 2000 8.27am "Hey Scully, Good Morning" Mulder walked into their Basement office smiling. He had been in an exceptionably good mood for the last week since they learned of the cigarette smoking man's death. Scully had even performed the autopsy herself, to make sure. Single bullet wound to the head. Although they knew that this was not the end, it somehow marked a victory. It was as though they had won this battle, even though the war was still raging. Mulder had his doubts, but he wasn't going to let Scully see them. Who killed him, and why? "Good Morning Mulder" she replied, somewhat deadpan. She gave him a 'what-have-you-done-to-get-us-into-trouble-now' look. He caught it. "What is it Scully? What'd I do?" He returned her look with his best 'please-don't-kill-me-I'm-just-a-loveable-puppy-dog' look "We have an appointment with Skinner at 9:00 sharp." She replied, letting him know with her tone that she wasn't going to be won over with face pulling this morning. "Relax, it's probably just a case" Mulder hung up his coat and moved over to Scully's desk, depositing a brown paper bag on it. She eyed the bag. "Mulder, he never asks us to his office at 9:00 sharp unless he's pissed with us. 9:00 is prime Skinner business time. He always gives us files after 10:00." She opened the bag and took out a bagel "Thanks for breakfast" "You're welcome, Dr. Pessimistic" He chuckled "Thank you, but I prefer Dr. Realistic" She shot back at him. ---------------------------------------------------------- A.D Skinner's office 8:58 am "Thank you for being prompt agents, take a seat." Skinner didn't seem upset with them, but Scully braced herself for it anyway. "Well, I don't know how to say this, but congratulations are in order" Mulder quickly turned to Scully, confusion and panic in his eyes. He silently asked her what was going on. Scully replied to his eyes with a somewhat bemused expression of her own. She gave a small shrug, one that would be missed by Skinner, who was oblivious to the discomfort of his agents. Mulder tried to settle, but his stomach was churning. Skinner carried on. " The powers that be have decided that it was time the X-files division expanded. Two new agents are being assigned to you today. You will supervise them, as well as continue your own work." Mulder's chin hit the floor. Scully felt like she should be pinching herself. She was the first to speak. "Sir, why, after years of shutting us down, are they supporting us?" Skinner did nothing but slid a manila envelope across his desk. Scully took it. Mulder recovered himself enough to speak next. He lowered his voice. "What's this about, Sir?" Skinner locked eyes with his most troublesome agent, trying to convey to him that he really didn't know. Mulder sat back a little in his chair, satisfied that the A.D genuinely was as surprised by this as they were. Alarm bells were, nonetheless clanging loud and clear in his head. His mind racing with a thousand different worst-case-scenario's at once. He didn't want Scully to pick up on his reservations though, if he couldn't be civil to what were quite possibly good changes, he didn't want her to too - because she felt she had to stand by his rather rash judgement, or hunches. He forced a quip as a cover. "It's going to get pretty crowded in that office, or are our new Agents friends of Snow White?" Skinner ignored Mulder's attempt at humour. "The storage room next to your office is, as we speak, being converted into a second office. The contractors should be done by Monday. The agents profiles are in the envelope. Meet back here at 2:30 this afternoon for introductions. Once again, congratulations Agents." The older man picked up his pen, and turned his attention to the papers in front of him. It was a signal that Mulder and Scully were free to go. ------------------------------------------------------------- They had not spoken a word since leaving the office. They silently exited the elevator and walked to their basement office. They could hear the sounds of refurbishment echoing from next door. Mulder gave Scully a 'What's-going-on?' look and entered the office. He spoke first. "What do you make of it Scully?" he tilted his head to one side, as if looking at her like this would aid his hearing of her answer. "To be honest, I don't know what to make of it." She sat at her desk, and opened the envelope. Mulder wheeled his chair next to hers and sat down. Scully pulled out the contents of the envelope onto her desk. There were two agent profiles as promised, inside, along with a short, hand written note. "Mulder, read this…." Scully began. Agents, You are probably wondering what's going on, I couldn't speak it to you before, and you must destroy this after you've read it. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks. As you know, the man you dubbed 'Cigarette smoking Man' had more than his fair say in the existence of the X-files division, and now that he's dead, that power falls to someone else. Someone who, for whatever reason, seems to support your work. Keep your eyes open, but don't immediately assume the worst. Mulder silently picked up the first file. The picture in the corner showed a young face, with brown hair, a shade lighter than his own. The face had blue eyes, Asiatic cheekbones, and an Irish feel to the whole composition. The name read S.A. Callum Jameson. A relative rookie, 8 months in VCU at Boston, shining record so far. That was going to change, Mulder thought to himself. He carefully committed the information to memory, anything might be useful later on. "He's a rookie, Callum Jameson, 8 months in VCS, probably an errand boy. Who's his partner?" Mulder asked. Scully looked up from the file she had been studying. "Claire O'Brien. Graduated from the academy less than a month ago, no previous F.B.I experience. Trained as a zoologist apparently. Wonder how she ended up as a fed?" Mulder looked at the photo of the young woman. She had long, dark hair, dark eyes and a rounded face. She looked vaguely familiar to him. Her eyes showed an air something deep, like a harboured secret, and had an almost oriental feel to them. Though the rest of her face was average. Two rookies under him, Boy, this was going to be fun! Scully put both the files away and rubbed her eyes. "What's the plan here Mulder?" she asked. He regarded her carefully. "How do you mean Scully?" he questioned. She looked him square in the eye. "How are we playing this? Are we going to stick to 'Trust no one', or are we going to let them in? What if somebody really does respect our work and wants us to expand? What if they screw us over the way Krycek did?" Mulder stood up and returned his chair to his desk. He supported his weight on his desk with his arms. "I don't know Scully, I think we should just play it close to our chests for now. You know, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer'." He waved his hand as he reeled off the old cliché. "If they prove themselves, then I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt." He paused a moment before continuing, everything in his body screaming at him to run now, but he did his best to hide it. "Besides, they have honest faces!" he chuckled slightly, he knew she'd pick up on that. "Mulder…." Scully whined "What! Well they do!" he continued, thinking to himself that there was actually an element of truth in that statement, they did. "What a time to suddenly become trusting" She shook her head. "Aww, come on Scully, I've always trusted you." "Always Mulder?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, almost always" he grinned. He sat down and re-played a long distant memory in his head. Scully's first day. So he had not always trusted Scully, but he had trusted her so completely now for so long. He never felt safe in anybody else's company. He was only really relaxed with her. His best friend. He'd even gone so far once as to consider her his soul mate. But now, he wasn't so sure. Every time he broke down the barriers just enough for her to let him in, she rebuilt them. God, she was already a part of his soul, would she ever let him be part of hers? Why couldn't she see that he loved her? "Mulder?" Scully looked at Mulder quizzically "Sorry Scully, What'd you say?" he snapped back from his thoughts. "Nothing of utmost importance, are you okay?" Her expression was one of concern. "Yeah, I'm….good. This is all happening just a bit too fast, you know?" It was only partially a lie. But what was he supposed to say? 'Sorry Scully, I was just thinking about how much I love you and how great we'd be together. Let's dump the X-files and go get married, whaddya say?' Oh yeah, very smart. She was armed after all. "I know, Mulder" She had said it so softly, and so tenderly, that he thought for a minute he'd been speaking out loud. Then he realised, she'd been studying his eyes. No matter what his body language, or his mouth told her, his eyes were always a window right to what he was thinking. His eyes would never lie to her. She may not see everything they said clearly, but he was sure she could get the gist of it. Inevitably, the uncomfortable silence followed. She simply turned back to the profiles on her desk, countenance resumed, walls rebuilt. She continued. In Mulder's heart, he sighed. ---------------------------------------------------- A.D Skinner's office 2:27pm Scully preceded Mulder into the A.D's waiting room. It was vacant and silent, except for the secretary tapping away at her keyboard. She looked up and rose. She went to the connecting door and announced their presence. Skinner himself came to the door to greet them. He ushered them into the room. He motioned for them to sit at the meeting table towards the rear of the room. Jameson and O'Brien were already there. Obviously not comfortable in one another's company yet, let alone that of their superiors. They both rose and shook hands with Mulder and Scully. "Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, Agents Callum Jameson and Claire O'Brien." Skinner then motioned for both parties to sit. "Now, I know the idea of other agents working on the X-files is still somewhat, well, unbelievable to you Agent Mulder. But I expect you to treat your new colleagues with as much respect and equality as you do Agent Scully." Mulder had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He would never respect or treat anyone as equally as he did Scully. "Ofcourse, Sir." He replied, turning his attention to the two agents in front of him. Both were giving nothing away as far as body language was concerned, that was good. But he could tell that they had heard all of the 'Spooky' rumours at Quantico, and were not sure how to take the man before them. "How much do you know about the X-files?" he asked, testing the waters. Cal spoke first. "I know it's an investigative unit into unexplained and paranormal occurrences, I've followed your work since I've been in the F.B.I. I have to say Agent Mulder, I'm still a sceptic, but I am willing to be proven wrong." "You'll certainly see a lot of things that might do that Jameson, but it's always better to experience these things rather being told about them." Mulder eyed the young man. He disliked him already. But that was partly because of the way he had looked at Scully when they'd come in. Perhaps he'd imagined it, but it was enough to bring out the protectiveness within him. Scully turned to Agent O'Brien. "Your file says you were a zoologist, how did you end up at the F.B.I?" The young woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair before answering. "I found that Zoology didn't hold for me what it once did. So I decided to use my skills at the F.B.I. My brother is already an agent, and I have always had an interest in the paranormal, so I guess I'm lucky the way the cards have laid out." Scully was about to further question why this woman left a career in Zoology to be a Fed. Something just didn't quite add up. But then Skinner interrupted. "Agents, I have a meeting in ten minutes, Mulder, Scully, please show Jameson and O'Brien your offices. Then I'll see you on Monday with a case. I suggest you use the time between now and then to get acquainted." Skinner then turned back to his desk and the two seasoned agents took this as a sign to leave. They motioned for the other agents to do the same. -------------------------------------------------------- "So Agent Jameson, how was Boston?" The party of 4 agents left the elevator as Mulder spoke. "They treated me well, I learnt a lot. I have a background in the police force, so the transition to the bureau was a fairly easy one." They continued down the hall, Senior leading Junior to 'the offices'. Boy, he was going to have to get used to that. 'The X-files division offices' - as in plural! He still didn't know whether to welcome this with open arms, or to be extremely wary to the point of rejecting it. He wasn't sure of Jameson, but O'Brien seemed nice enough, if a little quiet. Scully had attempted a few conversation openers during their descent into the basement, but O'Brien seemed monosyllabic in her answers. In his preliminary assessment of her, Mulder had decided she was hiding something. He wasn't sure what, but he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with betraying them. It was a personal thing she kept concealed, not one he should concern himself over. They truly did have honest faces. With the dark hair and dark eyes, she kind of reminded him of his sister. Perhaps that was why he felt somewhat endeared by her. Jameson seemed a bit cocky, a bit too sure of himself. He could do with being torn down a strip. He reminded Mulder of himself at that age. Young and impetuous. Mulder smiled at the thought. Was he really that old now? He'd have to watch him. He'd learnt himself the hard way that cockiness got you nowhere. They stopped at the door. Mulder opened it and led the way inside. Scully smiled inwardly when she saw Claire's eyes flicker over the 'I want to believe' poster in Mulder's Corner. The young agent smiled, Scully was taken aback. She realised she hadn't yet seen the young Agent smile. It made her look like a twelve year old girl. Her eyes turned to Mulder and she realised, with horror, that Mulder saw the twelve year old girl too. But he saw how his little sister would have looked at that age. His mouth opened a little. She saw him begin to mouth 'Samantha', but then he caught himself and turned his attention to Jameson, who was surveying the room. "Wow! I gotta hand it to you, you do like to surround yourself in your work!" He gestured with both arms to the room. Claire spoke up then. "Tell me Agents, how often do you get out in the field. I'm afraid I only got news of this last night, and it's my first assignment. It's taken me by surprise a little. I don't know much about exactly what you do. It's just that I like to be outside in the field rather than in an office." O'Brien never broke eye contact with Mulder the whole time she spoke. Scully wondered if she saw how Mulder was looking at her with his ever-expressive eyes, and took it to mean something else. God, she hoped not. She reeled off a list of rivals for Mulder's affection in her head. Bambi, Phoebe, the 'vampire' girl he'd told her he slept with while she was taken. It had broken his heart to tell her, and as she comforted him, she had felt her own break too. And lastly, a certain former X-files agent, who used and manipulated him in the worst possible manner. Scully had known she loved Mulder for sometime, but as with everything else, she refused to let it surface. She admitted it to herself over a period of time. She remembered a particular case that called for them to pose as a married couple in order to investigate a number of deaths in a planned community. *Wow! Admit it Scully, you just want to play house!* he'd said to her. In truth, she did. She let herself admit within the confines of her mind, that she would like to settle down with him, to be his wife, to wake up in his arms. She remembered how his smell lingered on her bed in that house after he had been sprawled across it one night. He had a smell about him that was divine in it's simpleness, and was so natural, but so Mulder. It reminded her of a forest after the rain has fallen. Fresh and textured all at the same time, with something that ran deeper. She was sure it was his soul, oozing right out of his pores. But she didn't know she loved him until the night he gave her batting lessons. If the kid hadn't been there to pitch balls, she would have told him. She snapped out of her reverie in time to hear Mulder talking about basketball with Cal. "It's gotta be the Knicks!" "Sorry, Houston born and bred, it's the Rockets." "Hey, there's a college game on tonight at the university. We should all go. Skinner said we should do the whole bonding thing." Mulder expected to be met with refusals from all corners, but he had to be seen to be making a effort, and it would give him a chance to suss out the agents outside of work. To his surprise they all agreed. He immediately began to regret it. "Maybe we could go for pizza afterwards." Scully mused. "Sounds great Agent Scully" Cal agreed. Mulder noted happily that Cal had not resumed any 'Checking out' of Scully. "Please, I think we should be on first name basis when it's just the four of us. It's Dana" "Okay, Dana" He smiled. "But I'm still Mulder, okay" Mulder grinned. Questioning looks passed between the two young agents, and they smiled at each other. Scully reminded herself that these two had probably only met 5 minutes before being introduced to herself and Mulder. Yet, the FBI expected them to form an almost immediate 'die-for-each-other' camaraderie. Poor kids. She hoped they had open minds. If they didn't, they'd go insane after 6 months on the job, seeing all that they inevitably would. She wondered if Mulder had thought this about her when she first walked through the door nearly 8 years ago. She knew she certainly wasn't as innocent and naïve as she had been then, and although no longer a hard line sceptic (impossible to do with all she had witnessed) she still played the part. A little for Mulder's benefit, and a little so that she didn't get pulled from the project because she could no longer 'evaluate' Mulder's work. But then, how do you evaluate Mulder's work? It cannot be programmed, categorised, or easily referenced. No indeed. ----------------------------------------------------- Dana Scully's Apartment 6:32 pm The doorbell rang three times in quick succession. He always did that. Why did he do that? He had a key for God's sakes. Couldn't he just come in and yell? No, he wouldn't dream of it, just like she wouldn't take such liberties at his place. Still, it's no excuse for ringing the bell like a pre-pubescent school boy who really has to use the bathroom. She sighed and opened the door. "Hello Mulder" "Hey Scully" he said, bounding in. "You nearly ready? Cal and Saman…Claire are gonna meet us there…" He avoided her eyes. She'd heard the slip-up. He was busted. He really didn't want to hear what was coming now. "Mulder, come and sit down a minute." He followed her over to the couch, and sat down, close to her. "Mulder, she's not your sister, you know that don't you?" She said tenderly, as if she were talking to a lost little boy, which after all, he really was inside. "Yes. I do." he paused "It's just that…when you spend so long looking for something, it gets to the stage where you see it everywhere, you know? I just, I mean, it's…" He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He felt her hand on his. "Mulder, I know, but I thought this was over." He opened his eyes and she held his gaze. "Part of me thought it was, and part of me hung on to the idea that she's out there somewhere. That I'll find her again, and I can be a brother to her, maybe an uncle if she has kids. Up until a certain point in my life, she was the only person I can remember loving who loved me in return. Sure, I teased her, and I ignored her a lot of the time, but I still loved her, and she loved me. God knows my parents didn't." He rested his head back on the couch and closed his eyes again. He turned his hand over in Scully's so that he was holding it, and caressed her fingers with his thumb. "Mulder, I can understand that. But you can't tell yourself that agent O'Brien is your sister. It's not fair on either of you. Something tells me she's known some great pain in her life, and I don't think it would be fair on her to declare that you think she's your sister." He turned to face her. "I never said I was going to walk up and announce it, Scully. I know she's not. But I see her everywhere" "She haunts you, doesn't she?" "Yes. In my dreams, or a familiar object or song. I can't get away from it." He glanced over and caught her eyes. He saw understanding, empathy and something else there. Something he'd taught himself long ago not to interpret as anything it wasn't. "Scully, I.." She hushed him and cut him off. She placed her hand on his cheek and her thumb traced the line of his lower lip. She remembered doing this before. Being so close to telling him, only to break away at the last moment. He was vulnerable right now. He needed her comfort, not a confession. She realised that he had closed his eyes and placed his hand over hers, keeping it pressed to his cheek as he leaned into it. Then he turned his head and pressed his lips to her palm, softly and chastely. "Mulder, we should go" She said softly. "Umm, oh, yeah, sorry." He gathered himself together and led the way out. Don't apologise, she thought, you have nothing to apologise for. But a tortured soul is forever in want of forgiveness. -------------------------------------------------- Cal had suggested that they all meet up at Mac's bar before the game. It was a small, comfortable place, with a vast array of bottles and promotional mirrors adorning the walls. The mirrors made the place seem bigger than it actually was. But he liked it here. It reminded him of his Uncle's bar back in Texas. His Grandfather and two Great uncles had emigrated to America whilst they were in their early twenties, from the Slums of Dublin city. They'd somehow ended up in Texas, and settled there. They had originally been farmers, but had a hard time nurturing the land, and so turned their hand to other things. They survived, and started their own families, resulting in the huge number of Jamesons that littered Houston. He sat in a corner booth facing the door and sipped at his beer. He was wearing jeans, a brown leather jacket and a Rockets jersey. He'd worn it deliberately to wind up Mulder. He was very wary of Mulder at first, he'd heard the stories, but he seemed like an all right guy, if a little eccentric. Cal had long admired his legendary drive and integrity. Dana was nice too, friendly enough, but Cal could tell it was going to take a while to earn their trust. He wanted to prove to them he could investigate and perform to their standards. Seemed like all he ever did with his life was prove himself. Growing up with 5 other brothers and sisters, you had to do something special to gain the attention of your parents, and it was a habit that had survived the transition into adulthood. He ran a slender hand through his thick brown hair and glanced at his watch. He'd agreed to meet Claire 20 minutes before Mulder and Dana were due. They wanted to get to know each other before they got to know their supervisors. The soft whine of a pedal steel guitar drifted from the speakers that were set high up in the ceiling all around. He didn't like country music usually, due to the fact his Father did love it so much. He'd gotten sick of it as he'd grown up. This tune was pleasant enough though. It bounced along a bit too much for his liking, but it was a good tune. "….Just to see you smile, I'd do anything that you wanted me to….." Just to see Claire smile, he'd do anything. She had the most amazing smile. When she smiled, it literally did set the room on fire. She was a wonderful girl. He didn't want to make it too obvious. It was his first day in a major new assignment, and he didn't want to screw it up by hitting on his partner. He had walked her to her car when they had left the basement, and discovered that her conversation was witty and intelligent, if she did seem a little shy. He was taken with her, definitely. He picked the label off of his beer bottle, and rolled it between his fingers. Then he looked up just as she walked in. She flashed him a smile of recognition and he was gone, grinning like a two-year old as she walked over and slid into the booth next to him. Too timid to sit too close, she stayed just far enough away, but just close enough to him. He was dumbstruck. She looked great too. He finally managed to speak. "Would you like a drink?" He forced out. He thought to himself. "Um, yeah, please, I'll have one of those" She said, motioning towards his own drink. He caught the attention of the barman and ordered two more drinks. "So, how are you?" He asked. "Fine thanks, you?" She replied. he thought "Yeah, I'm good." He replied with a reassuring smile. He wanted her to be relaxed around him. It seemed like it worked, because she turned to him with a glint in her eye. Suddenly the shy girl was gone. "So, how long do you think they've been 'together' " she said in a low, conspiring voice. "Who? Mulder and Dana? I didn't think they were." "Oh come on!" she giggled "Didn't you catch the unspoken words and the little glances? Or the way his gaze lingers just a little too long? Or how she brushes past him to get something even though you could get a bus through the gap?" "Oh, that." he thought. If she's noticed these things about Mulder and Scully, she has to have noticed his wistful looks. "I just thought they were close." He replied, deadpan. "Uh-huh," she eyed him carefully, picking up on his mood "So, tell me a bit about yourself." The beers arrived and she sipped at hers. "Well," he began "I have 4 brothers and a sister, and I'm an uncle to 6 very fine nephews and nieces." He smiled and took a photo out of his wallet. He showed it to her. "This was taken about a year ago at my sister's wedding. That's Connor, Jake, Michael, Nathan, Neve and Charlotte" He said, pointing to each round shining face as he spoke. "They're gorgeous" she replied, lightly touching the photo. "Are you close?" "Yeah, they all love their Uncle Cal, because I horse around with them. I'm only a big kid myself." She giggled "Yeah, me too." "I miss them terribly living so far away now." She held his gaze as something silent passed between them. They were interrupted by the arrival of Mulder and Scully. ----------------------------------- He stepped out of the shadows of the office and placed himself in front of the desk. Skinner glared at him, not breaking eye contact. After all, in his hand, this man held the means to kill him. 10 minutes of 'light' conversation followed, with Krycek doing most of the talking. Sensing Skinner's discomfort, Krycek knew he had to make a gesture to gain this man's trust. Still holding his gaze, he raised the hand-held device above his head, and brought it down with a dramatic crash onto the desk. The tiny electronic components scattered, and Skinner flinched, expecting his body to be instantly seized by the Nano-technology that once held him in it's grip. To his great surprise, it didn't. "I need you to trust me." He leaned in close and whispered across the desk, barely centimetres from the Assistant Director's face. "Do you trust me?" "So, you smash a weapon you've used for the past 18 months to control my life, and that's it, I'm supposed to trust you? No, Krycek, I don't." He bit. He was taking a chance. Krycek could easily kill him at any moment. Krycek's serious face broke into a smile, and then he laughed. A long, loud laugh. He sat back in the chair opposite the desk and sighed. "Yes, it does seem kind of stupid when you put it like that Walter, …may I call you Walter?" The older man said nothing. His jaw was visibly working up and down, making a vein appear in his temple. Krycek continued, undeterred. "I am not what I seem to be, or rather, what you perceive me as. These last 20 years have been about waiting. About patience. About revenge." He smiled a sick grin, Skinner wanted to wipe it off of his face. "I waited years, just biding my time until I was ready, to overthrow Spender and control the people who's decisions mean the life or death of people like my own family. I killed Spender. To avenge the deaths of my parents, and because I was tired of him getting in the way." "Getting in the way of what?" Skinner's steely glare gave nothing away. He was a master of the poker face. Krycek smiled. "Colonisation. Aliens. The Armageddon." "You want to bring it about?" He questioned "No, no Walter. I want to stop it. But both you and I know that the only way to do that, is through Mulder." "That's why you had the division expanded?" "Yes. I need him to know that there are other people willing to fight for him. Fight with him. Jameson and O'Brien displayed that ability. But they are just the beginning. I need you to make sure he doesn't reject this first. He's to be given everything he needs." "Why?" Skinner asked "Because I can help Mulder find his Holy Grail. His sister. I may already have done so. He has the chance to become all the world's saviour. I need him to trust in that." With that, Krycek rose and exited. Skinner picked a shattered component off of his desk and examined it. This was not over. ----------------------------------------------- Mulder and Scully slid into the seats opposite the younger agents. They immediately felt like they were intruding on something. Cal had to visibly wrench his eyes from Claire to greet them. "Hi," He smiled "You're early." "Yeah, well, you can't bank on traffic so we left a little early." Mulder replied, "Hey, nice shirt!" Cal glanced down at his jersey and remembered that he'd worn it to get a reaction from Mulder. He noticed that Mulder had got the same idea. He was wearing a Knicks shirt. "And you." He grinned. "W...Would you like a drink?" Claire hesitantly asked. Her shyness had returned, Cal noted. He felt somewhat privileged that she had felt comfortable enough in his company to come out of her shell a little, but it was a shame she went back when anyone else arrived. "Yes please," Scully replied "Mulder, what do you want?" "Um, I'll take an iced tea, thanks." He made a steering wheel gesture to Cal to explain why he wasn't on the beer. Scully smiled. "And I'll have a root beer." Mulder and Scully both cracked up at this private joke. Cal and Claire glanced at one another, somewhat in the dark. Then Claire shrugged her shoulders and smiled at him. There it was again, that smile, he couldn't help but beam back. Mulder had relaxed back in his seat, and had one long but graceful arm draped over the back of the seat, behind Scully. They were seated close, as always. She shifted slightly in her seat, to lean her shoulders into his arm. Contact with Mulder was good. It was safe, it was exciting, and it was a place where Scully felt she belonged. She wondered if he knew that. He seemed to know just when to reach out for her, by the gentle touch of her arm, or by putting his hand on the small of her back to guide her as they walked along. She wondered if he knew how that sent electrically charged chills up and down her back when he did it. Here, seated so close to him, she could really smell him, just sit and breathe Mulder. She could drink in that smell forever. She was sure that it must seem to everyone else that they were a couple, with his arm draped so comfortably, so near to her. Hell, they'd been mistaken for Mr and Mrs Mulder on more than one occasion. But she found she didn't care anymore. She liked it. They had a strange relationship. She knew she loved him, and she was pretty certain he loved her, but she could never be sure. It was too risky to test it, and let him in. He might hurt her, or vice-versa. She wasn't prepared to risk what they had for something 'more'. He had been upset tonight, he still wasn't over it. She had felt the knife twist in his gut when he saw Claire this evening. But she squeezed his arm, and he seemed to draw strength from it. She saw he was smiling at her now. She snapped out of her thoughts. "You were kinda somewhere else there for a while Scully, you okay?" "Oh, yeah. Just deep in thought." She smiled weakly as she felt her face redden. "Come on Scully, we're going to the game. I told you to switch off your thought process at the door." He grinned She noticed her drink had arrived, so instead of answering him, she put the glass to her lips. At that moment, Claire gave a jolt across from her and knocked over her own drink. She then dropped her head to her knees and held it in agony. Scully and Mulder immediately leapt up from their side of the table as Cal braced her body against his own to combat the jolts and moans that overtook her small form. It was over in a matter of seconds. She raised her head to find her wrists being held by Cal. His worried face reflected her fear. It had happened again. She had gone 4 months without one, and she'd hoped they'd stopped. She turned to see Mulder and Scully's equally concerned faces. "Are you okay?" Cal questioned softly. She nodded at him. Her eyes affirming to his that she was okay. He nodded in recognition. "I'm fine, they kind of knock me for six, but then I'm fine." Scully sat back down facing her. "Do you get these seizures often?" She asked. "I used to, but my last one was 4 months ago. I thought they'd stopped." She realised Cal was still holding her wrists, circling the skin with his thumbs absent mindedly. She didn't want to pull away, so she pretended she hadn't noticed. Mulder slid into the seat next to Scully. "Have you seen a doctor?" he asked "Yes. They don't know what it is. They think it might be a side effect of my amnesia." She began "Amnesia?" Mulder cut in. "Yeah, um, I was hit by a car in my early childhood. I don't remember anything from before the age of 12 years old." Scully felt Mulder tense in his chair. She touched his knee to remind him not to go seeing something that wasn't there. "Then about 7 years ago, I started getting these blinding headaches and seizures. They are usually accompanied by dream-like visions. Things of me as a child that I don't remember. I'm playing a board game with an older, dark haired boy. Then all I know is a sense of loss and helplessness in a dark place after that. But I guess that's just my imagination.." Mulder leapt out of his seat before Scully could stop him. He took Claire's hands from Cal and turned her to face where he was crouching on the floor in front of her. He spoke in a low, gentle voice. "Claire, I have reason to believe that you may be my sister." ---------------------------------------------- She walked through her apartment door and flicked on a light switch. She waited for him to follow and close the door. He clicked it softly onto the latch and turned to her, running his hand through his hair. She'd noticed this nervous gesture earlier. She sat in her armchair and he perched himself on the coffee table opposite. Their knees touching. For the second time that night, he took her hands and encouraged her eyes to meet his own. "Claire?" she looked up at him, into two reservoirs of the deepest sapphire blue. He continued. "Do you think that anything he said could be true?" She closed her eyes to try and prevent the tears from coming. She barely managed it. "I...I don't know. I don't know how he would know those things if they weren't true. He seemed so certain, I don't think he'd make this up. You've got to admit, I do look like the girl in his photo." "But time changes peoples features. You probably looked completely different when you were eight." She silently rose and went over to a book-case where she pulled out an old photo album. She handed it to him. He took it and opened a page at random. He nearly dropped the book when he saw pictures of the young Claire staring back at him. This was indeed the girl from Mulder's photo. He flicked back through the book, guessing the pictures would be in chronological order. She saw what he was doing and touched his hand to stop him. He looked up to see her tear filled eyes. "You won't find anything in there from before I was 12. I was in an orphanage when I had my accident. I was adopted by the O'Brien's soon afterwards. The orphanage records room was burnt out by arsonists about a week before I left. So I have no birth certificate, no baby or childhood photo's, nothing." she paused "Which means what he says is true. It has to be." Cal couldn't stop himself, as her sobs overcame her, he reached forward and enveloped her in his arms, rocking her gently and stroking her hair. He whispered to her that it was going to be all right, and carefully lowered them both to the chair. She soon fell asleep, arms around him, head buried deep in his neck. She felt safe with Cal, even though he was little more than a stranger to her. Cal listened to her sobs, and was sorry he hadn't punched Mulder. ----------------------------------------- 1 Hour earlier Mac's Bar "Claire, I have reason to believe you may be my sister." She looked into his sorrowful brown eyes and knew at once he wasn't joking. "What?" She said in disbelief. "Mulder, please." Scully touched his shoulder. He looked at her, eyes desperate, pleading to be let to go on. "When I was 12, my 8 year old sister was taken from me. Abducted by someone or something. I was responsible for her at the time, and it's because of my need to find her, that I found the X-Files. I thought you looked like Samantha the first time I saw you, look…" He produced a wrinkled picture from his wallet. She took it, and saw herself as a young child. But surely it couldn't be. "I'm sorry Mulder, I'm not your sister." He shook his head vigorously in response. "No, No, I can prove it to you. The brown haired boy in your visions is me, on the night you were taken. Can you see clearly what he's wearing?" "Yes, it's a.." "No, I'll tell you. It's a basketball shirt with 'KING 30' written on it. Am I right?" He waited as she nodded. "And the game we're playing. It's 'Stratego' right?" She nodded again. "How did you know?" she asked him. "Because your visions are of the night you were taken from me." he smiled at her "But now you're finally back" Scully squeezed at his shoulder again. "Mulder, none of this proves that this is definite. If you really are sure that Claire is Samantha, then we should do a DNA test. But Mulder, a lot of this evidence could be discounted as coincidental. We shouldn't build this up to be a big disappointment." "But what about Claire?" Cal cut in angrily. "Perhaps we should consult her as to what she wants to do about this. You haven't even given her a chance to react to this yet." Mulder got to his feet. "I'm sorry, I meant to, I mean, I just got carried away. Do you believe me?" He said the words so earnestly, it made her ache inside. "I don't know, I'm sorry, I can't…" She broke away from the table and ran out of the door. Mulder turned and went to follow. Scully caught his arm. "Mulder, no, it's too soon." Cal was already on his way to the door. He turned back towards Mulder. "Exactly what kind of crazy are you?" then followed Claire to the door. If it hadn't been for Scully supporting him at that moment, Mulder would have crumpled into a heap on the floor. "C'mon Mulder. Let's get you home." He nodded helplessly. He heard the song playing as they left. "….There goes my reason for living, there goes my everything….." ----------------------------------- Mulder stumbled blindly into his apartment as Scully switched on the light behind him. He flopped down on his couch and she sat down beside him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She sat in silence and waited for him to speak. After a few moments, he did. "It's her Scully. It is." "I know, Mulder." Her last statement shocked him. He turned to face her. "You do? You believe me?" He gasped out in disbelief "Yes. I think this is the closest you've come. There's no other way she would have seen the details of the night she was taken in her vision. I think it's a good possibility it's her. But Mulder.." "I know, I know, don't get too set on it" He took her hand and smiled at her "Thank you, Scully" She squeezed back. "But we have to do this carefully. She was in a state of shock tonight. Give her time to calm down and then talk to her. If you do it too soon you'll scare her off for good." "What if I already have?" She saw the pain in his eyes and didn't hesitate in pulling his head towards her own. Their foreheads connected, she whispered to him. "You haven't, don't worry." He encompassed her in his long arms, pulled her to his chest, and kissed her hair. Again, he whispered "Thank you" She didn't break away, or break the silence that ensued. He needed this, to be holding her, and she wanted to be in his arms so badly, that she began to forget why she was there. He swung his legs up on to the couch and pulled hers round too, so that they were more comfortable, lying and holding. She let it happen without so much as tensing up. There was something about being here with Mulder that was right, it wasn't weird or wrong at all. After a while, she heard his breathing relax into the slow, easy rhythm of sleep. He slept so little usually, that she decided to stay where she was for fear of waking him. It was soon after that she herself slipped into a restful, dreamless sleep. Claire woke up with a start. She was in her bed, but how had she got here? She was still clothed, that was a good sign. She remembered Cal hugging her as she cried, then she must have fallen asleep. He must have carried her through and put her into bed. She got up and went through to her living room. There was a note on the coffee table. Claire, I hope you feel better this morning. I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy last night, I just didn't think you should be alone. You should talk to Mulder about this, you need it proven or disproven for your own sake. Call if you need anything. Cal. He had scribbled his phone number underneath. She folded the note. So, he had stayed to comfort her, then once she was all right, he'd left. He hadn't tried it on or taken advantage whilst she was upset. He had been the perfect gentleman. Any other guy would have tried to jump her. She smiled at his sweetness. She had liked him when they first met, and on further exposure, liked him all the more. His behaviour last night re-affirmed this view. But what to do about Mulder? She had felt the weirdest feeling of De javu when she had first seen him. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He did look like the boy in her vision. How else would he know the details if he wasn't? She hadn't told anyone what she saw before then. She didn't know why she'd told three near strangers last night. She hadn't even told Tom she was getting them, and he was…well, it didn't matter anymore. It added to the fact she couldn't remember anything of her early childhood, and her likeness to Mulder's photo added up to one thing. She was Samantha. She decided she was willing to take the DNA test. It was the only way they would know. She picked up the phone, unfolded Cal's note and punched in his number. She would tell him first. -------------------------------------------------- Morning found them how night had left them. She was partially lying on him, and partially cradled between him and the back of the couch. Her head and hand placed on his chest. He was flat on his back, arms loosely wrapped around her, legs intertwined with hers. Mulder awoke, and took in their position. He calmed his breathing, in spite of himself, to avoid waking her. Her face was innocent and peaceful during sleep, and he just wanted to look at her a while. She truly was beautiful, he thought. He lifted a hand and traced the line of her jaw. He didn't know why, he just felt compelled to. Then he kissed the top of her head. What he wouldn't give to wake up with her everyday. She began to stir, letting out a low sound. Almost a moan, and scrunching up her features. She raised her head and opened her eyes. Suddenly, she realised he was there. "Mulder, what are you…what time is it?" She asked, propping herself up, and trying not to touch him too much. She began trying to fix her hair, smooth out her clothes, and trying to ignore the incessant bulge that was evident against her thigh. "I don't know Scully." He replied, apparently not as bothered by their predicament as she was. He made no move, and kept one arm around her. "Why? Aren't you going to make me breakfast before you gotta catch that bus?" He grinned. "Lemme up Mulder" She shoved him away gently, but he did as she asked. She merely sat up on the couch, next to him. "How are you feeling this morning?" She said, taking his hand lightly, in the need to retain contact. He resisted the urge to crack a 'morning after' joke. His mood changed suddenly serious. "I don't know, I'm feeling a little bit foolish I guess. I must have really frightened her, I don't know whether I should apologise or flog myself." His voice was pained. She sensed it. "Come on Mulder, I'll make you that breakfast." She got up from the couch, still holding his hand in a gesture for him to go with her. He rose from the couch and let himself be led to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and rifled through it's meagre contents. The only things there that looked safe to eat were some eggs, some cheese and half an onion. She pulled them out, she could do something with that at least. He sat himself up on the counter, and she set herself up next to him. She heated up a frying pan. He was silent as he watched her work, slicing, chopping and whisking. Domestic Scully was a side of her he found he liked. She'd kill him if she ever heard him thinking like that. He smiled to himself as he stole a piece of cheese she'd cut. She tapped his hand playfully. He mocked pain and pushed out his lower lip in a sulky pout. "Oh come on, stop being a wuss Mulder." "I'm not, it hurt, you don't know your own strength Scully" he leered at her. Then broke it with a cover "And do I have to put on the coffee?" She regarded his 10 year old, heavily abused percolator carefully. "Here's a better idea, do you have instant?" He leaned over and reached above her head into the cupboard. Retrieving a jar of granules. He shook them from side to side briefly, feigning some bad advert. He was rewarded with a smile. "So, are you going to talk to her, or are you going to wait?" Scully asked, tossing an omelette onto his plate. He deftly cut it in half and lifted half onto her plate. They would eat together while she was here. The gesture didn't go unnoticed. "I think I'll try talking to her" he said between mouthfuls "Maybe after breakfast, arrange a meeting for all of us to straighten this out. I think Cal thinks I'm a complete asshole after last night. I think he may have some influence over her decision." "You thought that too, huh?" "Yeah, I caught the gazing and the little looks." He replied, completely unaware of the hypocrisy of his statement. "It's amazing. They've only known each other for 5 minutes." She paused. "Do you believe in love at first sight Mulder?" she caught his eyes. He considered it a moment, chewing his mouthful in thought. "No." He answered simply. After a time he elaborated. "I believe love takes time to develop, so that you don't actually realise it, and it builds gradually inside of you. Then one day, you realise that you love this person with all your heart and soul. You'd die for them, anything. That's what love is. Before that it's a mix of lust, mutual respect and care." She considered his answer. She felt like asking him if he'd ever been in love, if he was in love right now, or if he thought nearly eight years were long enough to realise you were in love with someone. But the soft purring of the phone interrupted her train of thought. He leaned backwards across the counter, extending a hand to pick up the phone from the wall. "Mulder" he answered "Mulder, it's Claire" He put his plate down on the counter and jumped off of the side board. "Hi Claire." He looked at Scully, she smiled at him "Listen, I'm sorry if I upset you yesterday. I'd like to explain." "No Mulder, I think you may be right. It explains a lot of things. I was an orphan when I had my accident, and a fire at the orphanage destroyed any record of me from before that time. The boy in my visions is you, I'm sure of it. You knew the details, and I do look like your sister." She took a breath "I'd like to do the DNA test." He smiled into the receiver. "Are you sure?" he asked "If I'm wrong, I don't want to have psyched you up for something that wasn't meant to be. I may be putting you through a lot for nothing." He warned, surprising Scully with his acceptance that this could be another dead-end. "I need to find out, Mulder. You've raised questions that can't be left alone. I need to know." He made the arrangements for them to meet at the office at around lunchtime, and hung up the phone. "It's her Scully. It has to be. She told me she was an orphan when she had her accident. She has no recollection of her life before she was twelve, and no photographic or other documentation of her exists before then. I know it's her Scully." "Let's just see what happens Mulder, don't get too transfixed on this. It's still to be proven." She touched his arm, as if to transmit her words to him. He surprised her by pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back. "Thank you Scully. For everything. I need you to keep my feet tethered to the ground on this." "When do I not keep your feet tethered?" she teased. He laughed and pulled back. Then leaned forward so their foreheads connected. "Thank you" He said again. ------------------------------------------------ Claire walked into the basement office. She was the first one here, and felt uncomfortable here on her own. So much had happened in the last 48 hours. She'd been given her first assignment, which held significant personal interest for her. She'd met Cal, a man who she felt instantly connected to, and who was proving to be a dear friend. And she'd discovered she had a family, and that Mulder was her brother. At least she thought so. She hung up her overcoat and quietly walked over to the desk, as if any noise she made was a violation of the peaceful silence in the room. She sat opposite Mulder's desk, staring at the 'I want to believe' poster. It was true, she did want to believe, so very badly. She had never felt at ease with her adopted family, and her adopted brother never accepted her. She had always felt there was something missing. Now she knew, it was Fox, her brother. She noticed a picture frame on the table and turned it around. She drew her hand back quickly, as if it had been burned. It was her own smiling face. She hoped to God it was her. For the first time she realised she didn't feel angry about this. Had she been looking in at this situation rather than experiencing it, she'd have been outraged by his revelations. It was true, what Cal had said at the time, he hadn't given her chance to answer before he was organising a blood test. But then, she supposed that while she was stunned, his elation took over. They were both coming at this from very different directions. He knew about her, she hadn't even considered the possibility of him. "Hi," a soft, rich voice called from the doorway, not wishing to startle her. He ran his hand through his hair in that familiar nervous gesture of his, before letting it drop to his side. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a T-shirt, and he gave her an uncomfortable smile before advancing to the desk. "Hello" she eventually answered. Her dark eyes roamed his well-built frame before catching his gaze and holding it. "Thank you for coming, it's just, I needed someone here, you know?" "Hey, it's not a problem, I'd like to get to the bottom of this too. It doesn't exactly create a good working environment when my boss is making wild accusations at my partner. But, I don't know, I think I should be here. It's about all four of us." "Yes it is. But I think he's right. It does add up" "But we're not certain. Don't get your hopes up. I'm afraid this might be a whole lot of nothin'." She considered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose we'll see soon enough." He was about to respond when Mulder and Scully arrived. Mulder smiled sheepishly at both of the young agents and entered, Scully close behind. Mulder perched himself on the back of Scully's chair and she stood beside him. "Before we do any of this, I really have got to apologise to both of you for my handling of this last night. I was insensitive to anybody else's feelings, and I was wrong to do that. I'm sorry for it." Claire saw the intensity of his eyes as he spoke and knew the apology was sincere, not just a formality or an empty gesture. "It's understandable Mulder, It's a big deal." Cal remained silent in his corner. His eyes darker and his jaw clenched. He still thought Mulder was an asshole. "We can go up to the labs now and get going. It takes about 12 hours for the processing to be done properly, so we'll know by tomorrow." Scully said having noticed Cal's reaction, trying to steer the conversation away from anything causing his imminent explosion. She watched as his eyes considered this, he inclined his head slightly, unfolded his arms and rocked forward to his feet. "Let's go then" he said, leaving the room before he was sure the others were following him. --------------------------------------- 7:30 am Next Morning All four agents sat pensively, and in silence in the small office. Disturbed only occasionally when Mulder would get up and stride about the room. Other than that, it was unspoken thought and anticipation. Cal was still concerned about Claire, even though he had cornered Mulder in the parking lot this morning. <"I need to know if you actually believe this, or if it's just some sick stunt you're pulling." "Cal, my sister was taken from me when I was 12 and responsible for her. I've spent a good part of the rest of my life searching for her. I've known what dead-ends are, and I've had my hopes dashed more times than I care to dictate. If I set myself up for a fall, I make sure I have good reason. I don't want to play with people's emotions, but it can't be avoided sometimes."> It had settled something that had been bothering him, but he still was uneasy. He could tell that Claire was naturally trusting, and didn't want to see this abused. All four jumped as the door knocked, and the inter-office mail deliverer stepped half in, handed the envelope to Scully, who was nearest the door, and then went away again whistling out-of-key to a tune. Mulder nodded at her to open it. She drew out two clear-acetates, filled with black block markings dotted about them in a pattern most didn't understand. She held one over the other against the light. All eyes in the room were on her. "Well?" Mulder whispered, his throat suddenly dry. She turned to him and met his eyes. Then he knew. He hung his head, closed his eyes and let his arms go limp at his sides. "I...I'm sorry Mulder" she touched his arm "Claire isn't your sister." He exhaled deeply, opened his eyes and looked at her, knowing she was telling him the absolute truth, but refusing to accept it. "No Scully, you're wrong." "Mulder, the tests prove…" "The tests prove nothing Scully!" He yelled, bringing his fist down on the filing cabinet. He turned from her, rage building, and began pacing again, like a man possessed. "..they could have altered her DNA somehow. They have the technology to do that…" "Mulder, you can't just change someone's DNA without changing their physical or mental characteristics drastically. Are you suggesting Agent O'Brien is some kind of Mutant? And why? Why would they alter her DNA? For what purpose?" She had raised her voice to his level. She had to make him see sense or he'd destroy himself again. "To stop the truth! To stop me finding the truth! They knew we'd do this to check, if ever I found her, so they altered the one thing that could prove beyond a doubt that she is who she is.." "Mulder, it wouldn't work!" "ENOUGH!" Cal bellowed. It momentarily broke the charged air between Mulder and Scully. They turned to see Claire's panicked and regretful expression from the desk behind him. His stance in front of her was a protective one, he would not let her witness this, it wasn't worth upsetting her. "Shit, Claire, I'm so sorry" Mulder made a move towards the desk and Cal responded with a warning look and a tensing of his body that was immediately visible. Mulder backed off. His face dangerously lacking emotion. Scully knew she had to get him out of there now. "Mulder, I think maybe we should go home, and sort this out on Monday. It's too raw now to do anything," She risked taking his hand while she talked to him. "Scully, no, I can't. I have to prove it." He said gently, but firmly. Softly applying pressure to her hand. "Prove what Mulder?" Cal spat "Any means of proving any ridiculous notion have now been severed, and the DNA results were negative. Don't hold on to any false hopes." As he spoke, Claire rose and caught Mulder's other hand, tears visibly building in her eyes. "I'm sorry Mulder. I really wish I was your sister. I do." With that she stood and left, stray moisture from her eyes running a track down her cheek. Cal following, shooting a deadly look at Mulder before leaving. Mulder watched them walk away, and crumpled to his knees on the office floor. Scully crouched next to him, hugging him to her, in a now familiar gesture. Rocking and shushing him as all of the adrenaline he'd been running on left him, and he broke down and wept. He was repeating a Mantra to no-one but himself. It's-her-it's-her-I-know-it's-her-it's-got-to-be-her-it's-her ---------------------------------------- He'd been sitting despondent for hours now. It was getting darker outside, the change hardly noticeable in the dismally grey day. It reflected his mood. Up until about a minute ago, she wasn't even sure he knew she was there. Then he'd looked at her, with that familiar sorrowful look in his eyes and spoken to her. "Why do I keep doing this Scully?" He asked, his voice sounding somewhat like a little child's. "Doing what Mulder?" She had to get him to tell her, he had to open up, she couldn't do it for him. "Stuffing it all up. Everything I do. I put people's lives in danger, get people killed and emotionally damage others. And why? For some foolish personal quest, which I know will never be resolved. I know it and yet I keep searching. Looking for something that isn't there." "Mulder. You can't do this. Listen to me. You once told me that I was the only person you trusted, is that still true?" She took his hand away from his face and held it in both of hers. "Scully, you know it is." He brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face, and let his hand linger above her ear. He managed a weak smile, staring intently at her eyes. "Well then Mulder, trust what I'm telling you. You are the kindest, most generous, most giving person I know. You help people, you save people's lives, you prevent all kinds of disasters from happening." He cut her off. "Yeah, but what about those I don't save Scully? Your sister, my father, my sister - wherever and whoever she is. The list goes on Scully, who knows how many other people's lives I've ruined in my wake." He got up from the couch and started pacing the floor in his living room. She blocked his way on his return journey across the rug and put a hand to his chest to stop him. Little jolts of electricity running through her hand to her body, as she felt the well-defined muscles beneath his thin cotton tee-shirt. She looked up to see his dark eyes staring intently at her, his eyes were willing her to stop him. They knew that if he were allowed to carry on like this, he'd self-destruct. "Mulder, you have to listen to me, in the whole picture, they really don't matter." He swallowed hard, ready to protest. How could she say that? She continued "Okay it hurts, it hurts a hell of lot to think you might have stopped it. But then what? Everyone dies at some point Mulder, you know that. It may not seem right or fair, and it may never make sense to us Mulder, but we have to accept it and move on." He lowered his head, she kept her hand where it was "Mulder, you have to understand that you are a good man, the best I know. You can't beat yourself up for everything that goes wrong in everybody else's lives. Even I believed it was her this time Mulder, and I think she did too, she understands. You haven't ruined her life, or anyone else's." He lifted his head, those sorrowful hazel eyes still dark and desolate. "She was crying Scully. I made her believe in something that wasn't there, and it disappointed her so much that she cried." Mulder hated seeing people cry, Scully knew this. It made him feel guilty, whether it was his fault or not. He'd seen his mother cry after Samantha disappeared, and it had torn him apart. His father had hit him for doing the same. He had been told it was a womanly weakness that he shouldn't display. But then, when your own father calls you names like 'faggot', why should you care what he thinks anymore? Scully stepped into Mulder, closing the foot gap that separated them. She brought his head down to her shoulder and leaned her head against his own. She encouraged him to cry. "Mulder, there are many reasons people cry. It doesn't mean you've ruined her life. It was more likely that she'd been riding a roller coaster of emotions these past few days, and now it's reached a head, she had to let it out. It's okay to cry to release emotion Mulder. I'm sure she doesn't hate you. But it's not her, Mulder. You have to let go." He wrapped his long arms around her small waist and pulled her closer to him. Gently crying into her jacket. Again, she didn't back away or resist. He needed this, and she needed to be holding him too. They stayed that way for some time, until he eventually lifted his head. His reddened, tear stained eyes, burning into hers. He took her head into his hands and gently rubbed over each eye with his thumbs. It was then she realised she had been crying too. She mimicked the gesture on him, and was rewarded with a smile. A small, but sincere smile, it was enough. "Scully, I..I need to tell you something." His eyes were darkening again as he spoke, his pupils were dilating almost to their fullest. It was as if he was throwing the door to his soul right open to her, letting her see everything that was inside. "And I don't want you to think this is just something borne of the moment, because I promise you it isn't. It's something I've been trying to say for, well a long time. You've always given me nothing but the truth, Scully, and it's time I was truthful with you about something. You're the only thing left that matters. You're the one thing that's been there when I needed it." He paused briefly, his voice breaking as he said the words " I'm in love with you." He never even blinked the whole time he was talking. He just kept looking into her eyes. She could hardly believe she was hearing him say it, at last she could be sure he felt the same way, but he was high on his own emotions at the moment. Did he really want this? "Mulder…" She began to answer something about being careful with this, was he sure? But then she finally saw what she had been trying to interpret in his eyes for nearly eight years. He was being straight with her. He did indeed feel the same way as she did, this closeness had just made him feel it was safe to disclose it. Rationality was now impossible to uphold. Without another thought, she cupped her hands behind his neck and raised her face to his. His lips met hers in a chaste, pure kiss. After an eternity, but all too soon, he pulled back and examined her face. Their eyes doing the speaking. As his eyes received this declaration, his thumbs danced in small circles on her cheek bones, and moved back towards her ear, where his hands slipped down her neck, and down her back. They found their place in the small of her back. He smiled and pulled her to him. He kissed her again, longer and less restricted this time. It set her on fire. She had long imagined kissing Mulder, and it had been nothing like this. She felt like her blood was made of petroleum that someone had set a match to. He was everything. She kissed him back, her fingers playing with the hair that was just a little too long at the nape of his neck. His hands slowly drifted up from her back, danced past her shoulders and entangled themselves in her red-gold hair. His kisses became harder, more needy as she opened up to him. Nearly eight years of pent-up feelings releasing themselves in this one, beautiful moment. His tongue sliding around her own in the long practised ritual of lovers. Then he broke away from her lips, letting his own travel along her jaw line and down her neck, planting little kisses as they passed. He reached the top of her sternum, where her blouse dipped, and stopped. Something close to a moan escaped from Scully. He took her head in his hands once more, looking at her swollen lips and desire darkened eyes, and thought to himself that there was nothing he wouldn't do for this woman. He kissed her again, softer this time, asking if she would let him love her. She returned the kiss and slid her hands up his back, underneath the tee-shirt. She gasped when she felt how tense and hard he was all over with longing. His mouth was now working it's way over her left ear, his teeth nipping softly, and his tongue laving the same spot. Somehow, they managed to stumble through to the bedroom, knocking over various bits of furniture in their haste. He gently undid the buttons of her blouse, placing tender little kisses on her skin where each one had lain. It fell away, and he let his eyes roam the expanse of ivory skin. She helped him discard his tee-shirt, and let him clutch her to him. Feeling her soft skin against his own. His breathing ragged, she realised he was trembling. So was she. She in turn placed little kisses along the length of his body. Starting from his full lower lip, situated low down on that beautifully chiselled jaw, along the under side and down his throat, and down his chest and past the gentle slope of his stomach. She freed him of his jeans at about the same time as he helped her step out of her trousers. He pulled her to him again, one hand tugging the straps of her bra as the other worked the clasp. She slid her hands just under the band of his boxers as she stepped even closer to him. She could feel his building arousal pressing urgently against her belly. He eventually managed to remove her bra, and cupped each breast in his hands. Tenderly, he kneaded and massaged her breasts, attending to each one with his able mouth. He took one, and then the other dark tip into his mouth and let his tongue play over the sensitive bud, teasing it with his teeth. Her fingers were in his hair, pleading with him to stop the torture. He conceded, and once again captured her mouth with his own. He could hardly breathe, he needed her so much, wanted her so much. He deftly swung her around and lowered them both to the bed. He covered her with his body tentatively. He was scared of crushing her small form. She sensed this, and pulled him further on top of her, letting him know it was alright. He responded with a smile and once again, his lips began their torture all over her. She replied with kisses along his collar bone and up the right side of his face, as his hips began to grind into hers. She grasped at his buttocks as his hands danced along her body, finally removing her panties. She helped him as he kicked off his boxers. She could now feel his whole, huge, naked erection against her thigh. The waiting was over, no more time for games. His eyes met hers again, and told her how much he loved her, hers mirrored everything his said. He adjusted himself, and as his lips covered hers once more, he was inside her. He let out a long, guttural moan as she sucked in a breath quickly. She was tight and hot, and as he made his retreat she shuddered. It was slow and steady in a contrast to the frantic haste of before. Everything was about them. No one else in the entire universe existed. No aliens, no conspirators, no Samantha, no one. His thrusts began to quicken as her tension, and his own, built. He could feel himself getting closer, but he so dearly wanted to see her go first. He didn't want to leave her wanting. She fell moments before him, calling his name to the heavens as she soared high. She came back to hear him whispering her name against her shoulder. Holding her tight, he came to himself and kissed her forehead. She let her hand play up and down his sweat soaked back. "I love you" she whispered. He smiled to hear her say it and kissed her once more before gently rolling off and pulling her to him, so that her back was against his chest. They fell asleep as he whispered the words back to her. --------------------------------------- He woke before she did, and smiled to himself as he remembered what had occurred last night, and why she was in his arms now. She was here, and she was real. He could barely believe it. He half expected her to disappear at any moment in a puff of smoke. Anything he had ever really wanted or loved in life had been taken from him just as it looked like he was getting somewhere. Not this time. She was his, and he hers, forever. They couldn't separate them. He lifted the cascade of autumn-bronzed hair away from her face delicately. She stirred slightly, burrowing further into the warmth of his arms, muttering something. He barely restrained a chuckle. She talked in her sleep! This could be interesting. Whatever she was dreaming about must have been good, because a smile played about her lips. She muttered again, but whatever it was, it was unintelligible. Then she turned around in his arms so that she could lean her forehead into his neck. She once again snuggled down, much in the manner of a child with her teddy bear, and settled. He just lay there and watched her sleep. Thinking about her, about them, about the future. He visualised being married to her in his head. To come home every night to his Scully. He smiled again, she'd laugh if she ever thought he had contemplated being married. He knew she didn't think he was the type. He hadn't thought he was anymore either, but lying here with her, he realised he wanted the world to know that they belonged to each other. He was absent mindedly letting his long fingers trail up and down her arm, which was exposed above the duvet. Her silky white skin in sharp contrast to his own weather-worn, tanned and callused skin. They really were opposites in every way. But he realised that for the first time ever that he could remember, he felt complete. He felt loved, needed and wanted. He felt wonderful. Finally, she awoke. She grinned against his shoulder when she realised where she was, and kissed him there. "Good morning" He said in the low, seductive tone she loved so much. She hadn't realised that she was the only person he had ever used this intimate voice with, had ever felt safe using intimate tones as well as gestures with. She propped herself up on her elbow, and he mimicked her. She smiled one of her rare, brilliant smiles, just for him, and kissed the tip of his nose. He chuckled, and reaching a hand behind her head, pulled her face to his for a proper kiss. He was filled with relief when he saw she had no regrets about last night's confession and subsequent activity. His fingers were still continuing on their journey up and down her arm. They tripped lightly over the softer flesh just at the crease where her arm met her shoulder blade, inciting a giggle and a squirm from her. So, she was ticklish! He was learning more and more about his Scully by the second. He dared to let his hand hover there, his fingertips brushing temptingly over the sensitive skin. She giggled again. He had never heard Scully 'giggle' before. It was a girlish virtue that she would never allow her professional self, but yet he had enticed several giggles from her in under 12 hours. He stopped his teasing and tucked some of her unruly golden red hair behind her ear. Again, he let his fingers dance over the spot with feather light touches. "Morning" She eventually replied. She shifted so that she was closer still to him, and intertwined her fingers on her free hand with his, stopping his tempting hand from working it's magic. He watched their interlocking digits and then brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He smiled again, making his features seem young, and his face truly boyish. She stared into his eyes, now sparkling green flecks invaded the hazel, a sure sign that he was truly happy. She had only seen that on one or two other occasions before. She felt her heart leap as she realised that it was because of her that it was happening now. "Mulder, did I ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?" she asked, not knowing why she did, she suddenly felt it safe to have a new degree of openness with him. She decided that if she couldn't tell him everything, then it would never work. "Scully, are you coming on to me?" He cracked. She giggled, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. Then he leaned in and whispered to her, "So do you" before swirling his tongue around her ear. He chuckled then as she giggled yet again and turned a shade of pink. "I really hate to break the moment sweet heart, but we need to be at work in about an hour and a half." She said. He was momentarily stunned. She had called him sweet heart. It had just tripped off of her tongue so easily, and yet could make him feel so special. It wasn't just a term of fondness, it implied a long earned deeper running connection. An almost family-like term, reserved only for those most precious to you. It brought tears to his eyes to realise that she thought of him this way. She saw them build in his eyes and her expression changed to concern. "What is it? What's wrong Mulder?" She asked, petrified that he regretted this. He pressed her to him and silently shed a few small tears of joy into her hair. "Nothing, nothing at all. Everything's perfect." He whispered to her. ---------------------------------------- They arrived together at work, having swung around to her apartment so that she could change. He held her hand whenever he could, he just needed to touch her. As they strolled up to the elevator in the parking lot, he dropped her hand and placed his own at the small of her back, not quite ready to relinquish contact, but at the same time respecting her and her work image. God knows he'd spoilt it just by her being his partner, and she had to work doubly hard to be able to be looked in the eye by other agents. He was past caring, but it mattered to her. The gesture was noticed, and she gave him a fleeting smile in gratitude. She was walking on air. She could still feel his hands everywhere on her, and wherever his hands weren't, his lips were. Last night was an experience she hoped to be repeating, although she wasn't sure if she'd last out if they did. They had awoken twice more during the night, and each time his magic hands and teasing lips had invited her to join him. She was, ofcourse, powerless to resist. She would never refuse him anything. He held her heart, and she was certain he would never damage it, just as she was certain his worn and worried heart would never be harmed while she protected it. They were the last ones left in the elevator to go down to the basement. He finally broke the silence. "Scully, I'm scared" Three simple words, but an admittance of the highest degree. He was scared, he needed her, he needed her strength to help him face the most painful of all his demons. He had to face Samantha's memory and accept that Agent O'Brien was not her. It would be one of the most frightening things he would ever have to do. She took his hand, safe in the sanctity and privacy of the elevator. "I know Mulder, but we have to do this. Both of us. I won't leave you alone." He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand. His eyes thanking her. ------------------------------- They stood at the door to their office, still holding hands safe in the knowledge that no-one else was down here, except perhaps Cal and Claire - but they had probably seen enough of them over the weekend to have formed the same opinion as the rest of the bureau, that they had been going at it for years. He dropped her hand as he entered, again saving any little piece of her dignity that he could. Sure enough, Claire was seated at the desk, there was evidence that Cal was around here somewhere too, from the pair of coffee cups situated on the desk. Then Claire did something that meant the world to Mulder. She turned to him and smiled. A genuine, toothy smile. He had put her through all this, and now she smiled. She didn't hate him. She didn't hate him. "Good Morning," she said in her quiet, musical tone "I..um.. I asked Cal to step out for a minute. You and I need to talk Mulder." He nodded and turned to Scully, not wanting to let her leave, but knowing that he had to do this himself. She nodded, her eyes telling him that it was all right, and silently left. Mulder watched her go, and then turned back to Claire. She was struggling to get out what she wanted to say. Words were floating around in her head, but she couldn't string together anything making sense. Finally, she began, her words jostling together to be allowed out, in a steady stream of confusion. "Mulder, I'm not your sister, we've established that much. But I want you to know, regardless of any reaction I may have had yesterday, I don't hate you for this. In fact, I'm flattered that you thought I might be your sister. I'm concerned that you are going to have this niggling feeling every time you ask me to do something, or if anything happens, that I disrespect you because of what has taken place. I'm not making sense here am I?" Her eyes fell to the floor a moment while she re-gathered her thoughts. He gave her the silence she needed, and waited for her to continue. "What I mean is, I'm not going to hold this against you, and it shouldn't affect our working relationship. It's water under the bridge. I've spoken to Cal, and while he voiced his concerns, we've straightened a few things out, and I want you to know that we both still hold the utmost respect for you. Both of us. Cal may not be ready to swallow this yet, but I have asked him to, and I think we can get through this." He managed a small smile in response. He didn't believe for a second that Cal still respected him, but he believed Claire was being sincere about her feelings. He felt like crying, he felt like laughing, and he felt like running a thousand miles. So much had happened. He had wasted so much time, his entire life. He had let her go, he was free, but the first reminder of her existence, and he was obsessed again. What the hell was wrong with him? And here was this poor, generous, forgiving young woman telling him that no matter what a jack-ass he was, she had lost no respect for him, and was willing to brush this under the carpet. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The dust under the carpet always gets rediscovered and hashed about at a later date. If it's disrupted and raked through now, then it will disperse, and in effect disappear. All of them needed to sort this, but after he had spoken to Claire himself, one-to-one. He dropped his tone to the low sing-song voice he reserved for moments where tenderness was required. No one jumped when he used this tone. "I feel like such a fool for my behaviour over the weekend, but I want you to know that I never meant to hurt or upset anyone. I have been searching for Samantha for a long, long time. Sometimes you just end up blind to everything else for the sake of that one thing you're looking for. I am truly, very sorry for putting you through this. It was something I needed to let go, and this has brought me a step closer to that, but I really didn't mean to hurt you. I would hate it for you not to be able to respect me," She moved to correct him, he gestured with his hand to let him finish "regardless of how you think you feel, so I would like to propose something to both you and Cal. Can you go and find him, and then we'll talk" She moved for the door, and reached it as Scully rounded the corner. They exchanged small smiles at the door, and then Scully entered as Claire disappeared. Scully shot a questioning look at Mulder. His face had an extreme expression of tenderness, concern, relief and anticipation all rolled in to it. She took his hand as he smiled at her and lightly applied pressure to it. He answered the question her face had asked. "We're getting there Scully, we'll get there." She tried to convey comfort and support to him through her eyes. His own caught them, and thanked her. He turned towards his chair and sagged down into it with the air of a veterinarian who has to work himself up to tell an old lady that her 14 year old dog, and only companion, needs to be put to sleep. Scully sat at the edge of his desk, playing to his mood, keeping her distance. Cal and Claire appeared at the door and perched themselves in the ever decreasing spare space in the office. Cal seemed calm, and collected. His eyes showed no trace of anger, and his body wasn't tensed and ready to pounce as it had been yesterday. He was - relaxed. Claire looked to him for reassurance of his state of mind, and he winked at her. She blushed furiously and averted her eyes. Scully hid her smile as she watched this exchange. Perhaps herself and Mulder weren't the only ones to have taken a step up in their partnership last night. They were both glowing with the air of a couple very much in love - after only four days? Well, anything's possible, she told herself with a sly grin. What would Mulder say if he heard her new-found belief in the impossible? Mulder chose that moment to begin. "Um…We all know that what went on was stressful, and anxiety causing for all of us. I…well, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry if I hurt people by doing that. But I convinced myself of the facts and made myself believe. I can now accept that I was wrong, and I apologise for my behaviour. I wouldn't want this in anyway to affect anybody's judgement of anything I say in the future, or cause anyone in this room to lose respect for me. So, I'm going to put it to Skinner that we all take on a case together. If, after the case has reached it's conclusion, or we cannot do anymore to it, I - or you feel that working relationships have been irrevocably damaged, then you will be transferred. I won't create an environment based on mistrust and analysis of co-workers. No one would be able to do their jobs properly then, and we'd all be miserable." Cal considered this carefully, and inclined his head slightly as he spoke. His body language was open, and his voice was clear and precise as he spoke. "Mulder, yesterday I thought you were very wrong to have done this, I'll admit that. But after further consideration today of it, I've decided that it's none of my business, and I should not be swayed in my opinion of you one way or the other. No one was permanently damaged or really hurt by your actions, so perhaps we should just forget about it and move on." The young man kept eye contact with Mulder the whole time he spoke. He didn't seem to bear any ill will against him at all. Perhaps he worked it out of his system, Mulder thought, but he didn't think it likely he reached this complete turn around on his own though. Especially from the way he interacted with Claire as they'd entered - he'd observed it. "Thanks Cal, but I really think we should see how it goes. I will not expect anybody to carry on working with me out of some twisted sense of duty or pride, if they think I'm a jack-ass." Cal grinned at Mulder's final comment, and silently told him that his opinions had changed somewhat since the intensity of yesterday. ----------------------------------------------------------------- It had been odd. It had been unusual. It was completely out of character for him. But it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He was happy, an indescribable, different kind of happiness. He knew why he had reached this level of elation, and although it scared him witless, it excited him to know it. He was in love. Completely head over heels in love with the most wonderful woman in the world, and he'd only kissed her once. He'd persuaded Claire to go out to see a movie with him last night, his first intentions were purely to cheer her up after this Mulder business. But after the movie he had walked her home, discovering with their conversation more and more that he liked about her. As he reached her door, they said their goodnights and he turned to go. Then, on a sudden impulse, he turned back, strode the three steps between them and planted a very soft, very tender kiss on her lips. He pulled away, apologetically saying goodnight before turning to go again, kicking himself for being so stupid. He only looked back when she called "Good night…..and thank you" after him. Thank you? For what? The evening? His company? Or had it been about that kiss? She certainly hadn't backed away. He halted and pivoted around on the spot, searching in the dimly lit hallway for her face to give him some indication. It was turned towards the floor, but the light caught it so he could see a shy smile creeping across her lips. As if she understood what he needed, she forced herself to look up at him. The air was thick with silence, but their eyes were communicating with a deafening loudness. He whispered "bye" and left. His heart pounding, his feet walking of their own accord, his head in the clouds. And so here he sat, in his kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and thinking about what she was doing right now. He had seen her earlier at work, and he'd see her tonight when they had to catch their plane, but now he was wondering. Should he call her? Should he wait? Should he just sit here grow roots while he obsessed over it? She had still been her shy self today, but he had managed to get her to emerge a bit for him, and she seemed to feel the same way about him as he did about her. Nothing was said out loud, but it was there, a connection. He took another sip of coffee and didn't seem to notice it had gone stone cold. He raked a hand through his now scruffy hair, and held it at his neck. He sighed and pushed himself away from the table with both arms, heading towards the table where he kept the phone. He punched in her number, having no clue what he was going to say. It rang for a long time, and he was just about to hang up when she answered, slightly out of breath. "Hello?" "Um Hi...Hello, it's Cal." "Cal, Sorry it took so long to answer, I was in the shower and had to run pick up the phone" That threw him, and he started babbling. "I'm sorry, it's just, it's okay, it's not important anyway….I , um, I just wanted to know how you were getting to the airport this evening." "I'll call a cab, I guess" "Well, you're only a couple of blocks over from me, why don't I get one and get it to swing by and pick you up too." "Okay, thanks" A not-entirely uncomfortable silence followed. He collected himself enough to say something and hang up, but she beat him to it. "I'll see you then," then she paused, her voice changing as she said her next sentence, letting him know what she meant but couldn't say. "Take care" He swallowed hard past the knot that had appeared in his throat before he managed to answer "You too." and replaced the receiver with a soft click. --------------------------- Why were airport chairs always made of the hardest re-enforced plastic imaginable? And why were they always a gawky shade of orange? Mulder was beginning to think that if there was a God up there, he'd done something to upset him. They had been made to wait two and a half hours so far for their flight, and the woman at the information desk was being particularly patronising and obstinate. Mulder had tried turning on the charm a couple of times to get her to update him, but she merely responded with the most plastic smile he had ever seen and the same, parrot-fashion recital of a sentence. "I'm sorry Sir, I'm afraid there has been some difficulty at your destination, and we have to ask you to wait whilst it is being sorted out. If you would like to take a seat we will update you of any developments." He snapped on the third repetition of this, he wanted to ram her 'updates' right down her throat. "Look, it is very important that I know when we will be leaving, so that I can calculate my estimated time of arrival, and ring the party waiting for me in Utah to tell them I will be late." He forced out through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry Sir, I'm afraid there has been.." "Please!" He struggled to keep himself from uttering anything other than this, his tone a degree away from threatening "Just give me some idea of how long we will be waiting" He said, withdrawing his badge as he spoke, he hadn't wanted to use it to extract information, Skinner had blue fits whenever he found out that Mulder had been flashing his badge about. "Please" He repeated, his voice soft again. The woman turned to her phone and dialled a number. After a short conversation with someone named Bob, she hung up and turned to Mulder. "It should be about another hour, Sir, if you'd like to take a seat…" "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, thank you." he sighed, turning dejectedly back to the area they had occupied in the otherwise nearly vacant waiting room. He made his way over and flopped down on to the seat next to Scully. He had meant it as a dramatic gesture, but bumped his lower back on the hard edge of the chair and hurt himself. He groaned and doubled over, clutching his back. Scully soothed him and asked him to let her look. He removed his hand and let her lift his shirt to inspect his back. She softly let her fingers run over the reddened area, longer than was necessary. "You'll be fine Mulder, just some bruising, nothing to keep you out of action for too long..." she smiled. He caught her last comment and winked at her. "Good" Cal and Claire were both curled up on separate chairs dozing. The gap between them visibly forced. Mulder took the opportunity to put his arm around Scully's shoulders. She settled herself against his body and leaned her head against his shoulder. He turned his head and kissed her hair tenderly before whispering to her. "Try to get some sleep, we might be here a while" ---------------------------------- He woke up on the plane only once, when he was offered food. He wasn't hungry, and was too tired to even think about when he might get chance to eat again, so he thanked the attendant and went back to sleep, his head leaning comfortably on Scully's, his hand holding her own. She was sleeping peacefully, and every now and then would re-adjust her head, nestling deeper into Mulder's shoulder. He found it remarkably easy to sleep when she was here. She was the one thing left that mattered to him, and while she slept next to him, he didn't have to torture himself over her safety, he could sleep too. Cal and Claire were seated in the row behind them, their outward image now forgotten in the subconscious need for comfort. They were seated much in the same way as Mulder and Scully, as close as they could get. They touched down in Utah without drama, walking through the baggage pick up at 6am looking like something out of a horror flick. Scully silently made a pledge that this would be the last red-eye flight she let Mulder book. From now on they'd be flying during waking hours. They picked up their bags and headed out towards the rental car office. All four were quiet, not quite ready to speak yet, all too tired to go into that much thought. The airport looked oddly quiet, but then it would be at 6 in the morning, wouldn't it? But it was eerily empty. Apart from the staff and the rest of the people on their flight, there was no one else around. What was the problem this end that no one was here, Mulder idly wondered. Bomb scare? 'Quake warning? No, they would never have been allowed to land if it were. He sighed again, as he watched Scully fill in the necessary paper work for their car. He hated the paper work, and over the years they had developed an unspoken rule that Scully should always do the form filling, purely because he was so terrible at it. He briefly yawned, setting off a chain reaction around the group. "I need caffeine" He stated as he headed for the little café across the way. Cal and Claire followed as Scully arranged for them to pick up the car in half an hour. She trailed the rest of them across to the little, typically expensive café. ------------------------------- As soon as the caffeine hit Mulder's brain, it was stirred in to action, making sense of everything he'd noticed in his previous sub-level state. His train of thought was interrupted by Scully's question. "So, Mulder, at the risk of sounding unprofessional - What are we doing here?" She gave him a small smile, the one she used when she wanted to charm something out of him. He had been very cryptic about what this case involved and she knew there would be something about it she wouldn't like. He sheepishly looked at her over his cup and glanced around to see the similarly interested faces of Cal and Claire. "Well, we're investigating an X-file involving a possible ritualistic underlay in the community of Jerrisford, Utah." He rattled off with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, but if it's ritualistic, is that really an x-file Mulder? Why do we need to investigate?" Cal raised an eyebrow, trying to retrieve some more information out of this enigma. "It seems that somebody, or some people are calling forth the bodies of the dead to rise again and take the lives of convicts." He produced a file from his flight bag as Scully exclaimed. "Zombies? We're here to investigate zombies? You aren't going to feed us that stuff about necromancy again, Mulder.." "No, Scully, I never said that! I'm just relating what it says in here" he tapped the folder "You reached your own conclusions about zombies" He grinned. "Actually, it did kind of sound like that's what you were implying" Claire supplied. Scully gave her a smile and turned back to Mulder with 'See?' written all over her face. He succumbed to the new formed attack on him, and gave in. "All right, yes, I do think it could be zombies, but not like any we may have an idea about. These are killing convicts in the local penitentiary," he spread a dozen pictures of the inmates across the table "no body sees them go in or out, and nobody can figure out why they are doing it. It is not known for a zombie to kill specific targets, they usually would take the life of anyone in their path." "Which leads you to connect this to the local unorthodox religious sect?" Cal asked, flicking through the file. "Yes, but there's more to it than that." He replied. "Like what?" Cal pushed "We'll see." Mulder finished. No more information could be got from him now. He would wait until he could get to question the sect before committing himself to his hunch. ------------------------------------------ "I understand that Ma'am, but it is important that I talk to him." "You don't need to, Mr Gordon hasn't done anything wrong." "With all due respect Ma'am, nobody has accused him of anything, we're just here to ascertain what has been going on. We think he might be able to help." "You want to arrest him. You want to frame him for something he couldn't possibly have done." "No, we don't, we just want to stop other people getting hurt and we think Mr Gordon could help us." "All right, come back tomorrow morning. Mr Gordon is away on business today." The housekeeper gave a satisfied little grin and slammed the door. Cal raked his hand through his hair in his now trademark gesture, and turned back towards the others. He was thoroughly embarrassed and the smile on Mulder's face didn't help at all. He had been asked to question Mr Gordon so that Mulder and Scully could assess his tact and method. He hadn't even gotten past the housekeeper. He felt utterly humiliated. "Don't worry about it Cal, you can come back tomorrow." Mulder grinned "But what happens if she's lying and he uses the opportunity to skip town?" "I think she was telling the truth. There's no car around, the upstairs windows are all shut, and there doesn't seem to be any sign of life in the house other than her. What are you going to do? Bust in there just to see if he's about? Just try again tomorrow." Cal let out a frustrated sigh and nodded his head in defeat. Claire gave him a look of complete sympathy and a little smile, and he suddenly felt better. "Okay, I think you two should head over to the scene of the most recent killing and see what you can find out. Scully, you and I can go and check out the church at the top of the road." He began to walk away up the dirt track driveway. Scully was a little out of breath when she managed to catch up with him. He slowed his pace a little so she could keep it up easier. The other two drove past them as he spoke. "For a cocky guy, he sure embarrasses easy." "I think it's more that he hates to be seen to fail, on anything. He's a bit like someone else I know…" She gave him a side ways glance as a wry smile formed on her lips. She turned her face up to him defiantly as he paused in the track and regarded her with written all over his face. Then as she giggled he carried on, feigning a sulk. It lasted all of 20 seconds. The sun was unforgiving, and as it rose higher in the sky, Mulder took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, his tie already at half mast. Scully tried her best to give him a look of pure disgust at his scruffy appearance. She truly was quite fond of it, and felt the blush rise in her cheeks as she took it in. He noticed it and decided to play on it. He side-stepped closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She took him by surprise by wrapping her arm around his waist. They wandered on a few feet more. Was she really okay with such open displays of affection? Or was she just letting him as a return to his teasing? As if she had read his mind, she stopped, took his hands and spoke to him. "Mulder, I love you, you know that. I don't care who else does." She said softly He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before seizing the romanticism of the moment. He used his arm as an anchor to pull her to him, kissing her softly, and then releasing her. "…Even your brother?" "Yes, even Bill, but I want you there when I tell him." "Oh, believe me honey, there's no way I'd miss out on that." He chuckled as he took her hand and carried on up the track, nearing the main road that bisected it. He could hardly keep his eyes off of her, trying to convince himself that she was real, and that she loved him. The breeze blew her hair around her face, framing it's smiling beauty. She was truly happy, he thought, at last he could make her happy. -------------------------------- The 'Church' looked more like a dilapidated community centre. Judging by the beige decor and cracks in the plaster, it once was. Mulder advanced into the entrance of the building, glad of the refuge from the tyrannical sun. The entrance was dark and cold, in direct contrast to the conditions outside, but the change was not entirely welcome. Mulder had a 'feeling' about this place - the whole town in fact - it was too quiet. He could count the number of people he'd seen since his arrival on the fingers of one hand. The air was dank. It smelt like a tomb. His fingers were itching to draw his gun and start checking around the corners, but he resisted the urge, he didn't want to frighten anyone they might come across. He turned to see Scully's equally uncertain face, and motioned for her to stick close behind him as he went through the double doors in front. Instead of the rock-carved worshipper's pit, filled with hypnotised, half-dressed, chanting masses and an evil looking celebrant wearing camel hair and a goat's head hat - Mulder found orange plastic airport chairs arranged in a semi-circle around an old school desk and a large window which lit the room well. He was still unprepared to let down his guard, he'd learnt the hard way that just because things seemed harmless enough, doesn't mean that they were safe. He jumped as he heard the crash from the next room. He drew his gun, assuming the stalking stance he had been taught, as he rounded the corner by the door. He trained his gun on the only moving object in the room, a cat. It would seem that the cat had unsettled a pile of leaflets, which in turn, knocked over a box full of tea-cups which now littered the floor beneath Mulder's feet. "Hey little Kitty" he cooed, reaching out tentative finger tips to stroke the cat's soft fur "What is this? The Marie Celeste or something?" he said, turning to Scully. She raised an eyebrow at him and bent to pick up one of the leaflets. The lemon yellow paper was titled 'The church of the Renaissance', and announced upcoming events, all the normal jumble sales and coffee mornings. "Church of the renaissance, Mulder?" She asked, turning to him. "Rebirth, Scully, that's what it's all about." "So, just because these people happen to worship under a name which translates as 'Rebirth', therefore they are our Zombie raising suspects?" "You don't have to make it sound like I'm making gratuitous leaps in judgement Scully." He shot over his shoulder as he headed for the door to his left, to search the rest of the building. She followed, and having found no one else, they returned to the room. The cat was gone and the mess had been cleared up. But they had only been gone two minutes. Mulder hollered through the door to let whoever had been here know that they were there. After a time, a short grey haired man with a moustache appeared. "Hello" he said, his voice void of feeling. Mulder was trying hard not to let the panic he felt creep up into his eyes. Scully fielded for him while he reformed his outward persona. "Agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI" she pulled out her badge, the almost offensively large letters registering with the man. He shifted slightly from foot to foot. "We're here investigating a case regarding some deaths at the local prison, and we'd like to talk to some people. Can you tell me your name please Sir?" Her voice was cool, detached, impersonal. She was clearly spooked by the teacup/cat thing, but wouldn't let it show. "Dennis Rodgers, I'm the caretaker here, and you folks owe me some crockery." His watery grey eyes never changed as he spoke, there was no feeling in his eyes or his voice. "Those would have been the cups that the cat knocked over, did you clean it up?" He nodded "In two minutes?" Mulder quizzed He nodded again "And did you put the cat out side?" "There was no cat in here when I came in, good thing too, I'd have shot it." Scully shot a look at Mulder, he continued. "Mr Rodgers, perhaps you could tell us when a good time would be to come back and talk to your congregation, we'd like to do some routine question and answer stuff, you know, just see if anybody's seen anything." He poo-pooed his statement with a wave of his hand, Rodgers wasn't buying. "You'd have to talk to Mr Gordon about that, I don't think he'd want folks being scared by your accusations" "Nobody said anything about accusations Mr Rodgers." Why was everybody jumping to that conclusion? Guiltyguiltyguiltyguiltyguilty. "We would just like to determine if anybody saw anything suspicious." "Nope, nobody saw nothin', I can tell you that. Good day to you folks." With that he stood away from the door, motioning for the agents to leave. Mulder could see that this line of investigation was going to get them nowhere, so he headed for the door. The front door was forcibly shut - not slammed - just firmly closed behind them. Mulder sighed heavily as Scully led them out of the gate. "What now?" She asked, squinting her eyes against the sun "Well, Maybe us folks oughta think about gettin' some new crockery" he drawled, it received a snigger of approval from Scully. "Come on," he said "Let's track down Cal and Claire and see what they've found out. Then we can get to work on locating the elusive Mr Gordon, he's the key here." Mulder was, once again, already off down the path before Scully could register what he'd said. She followed, nonetheless, as she always had. She would always follow as long as he needed her support and protection. As would he. ------------------------------- "MULDER!" He could feel the dull ache in his arm as it was wrenched behind him. He had been running, running for all he was worth to get to her, and he couldn't stop now, regardless of any injuries he himself had. He turned his whole body weight around, using his captured arm as a pivot. He pushed the full force of his frame against the walking dead-man, knocking it to the ground as intended. He took off without looking back, launching himself onto the jetty and not stopping as he jumped into the boat. He cursed and kicked at the engine until it spluttered to life, and then sped off blindly to where he had seen them go not 2 minutes before. Scully needed him, and he had to go to her. Shit. He hoped Claire was okay, she too had taken quite a knock when the zombies attacked her and Scully. He had seen the rage in Cal's eyes and knew that his own were the same. He hoped Cal had gotten to the other side, he had driven round by road to the old farmhouse where they knew the bodies were being taken to. He had warned him not to do anything until he got there, but he knew Cal well enough that he would do no such thing if either Claire or Scully were in danger. He prayed that Cal *would* ignore his warning if this was the case. Shit. How could he have let this happen? One of his bright ideas, to interrogate the sheriff, a suspected 'high-up' of the cult, Mulder had decided to 'bring in the muscle'. The sheriff was the kind of dark-ages moron who believed that women should be no more than ten feet from the kitchen or the bedroom at all times, so Mulder thought it best that he and Cal should handle it. Kind of ironic really, interrogate a chauvinist pig of a suspect by demanding that the women stay out of it. It had not been like that though. Scully had agreed that the men would get more out of the sheriff if she and Claire did not attend, instead they would try Mr. Gordon again. The boat ran aground in the darkness, and Mulder was leaping out of it before it had reached a complete halt. He saw one light on in the near side of the farmhouse, and stuck low to the ground as he approached the perimeter wall. He could hear her voice. She was close, he had to find a way in. He rounded the corner, heading the screen door at the rear of the house. There was someone in the door way, barely moving. Mulder hit the dirt and rolled to the wall. His gun had been drawn since he stepped off of the boat, and he kept it trained on the figure as it approached him. "Hey, Mulder it's me" Cal whispered, his back to the wall, he motioned towards the barn across the yard with his own drawn gun. "They've got something set up in there, it doesn't look good. They're holding O'Brien and Scully in the front room of the house, but the kitchen looks like it might be wired to blow, I think we need to try to find a way round the front." Mulder nodded, and quickly turned to go back around the house. They reached the front doorway, there were nothing more than rotten chipboard slats where there should be a door. Both men forgetting the need for silent approach and stealth from before, began tearing away the boards with their hands. Within seconds they were inside, Cal checking for more explosives and wires as they proceeded. This was a talent he'd failed to disclose, he knew a thing or two about bombs. He nodded it was clear, and Mulder stepped ahead of him to get to the room. He listened at the door, hearing only silence, he uttered a silent prayer and entered, gun held at the ready. "SCULLY!" ------------------------------------------- "Shit!" He said for the hundredth time that night. "Where are they?" He turned to Cal, and followed his gaze to the open window. His voice changed suddenly, scarily lacking emotion for a second "What was going on in that barn?" "Something big - They're all there - looks like a…" Cal was already on his way out of the window as it registered with him "…Sacrificial ceremony" Mulder was running again, running so hard that every time his feet hit the dirt, he could feel his brain jump up and down, and his heart ring with the vibrations. He dropped his head and ran harder, pushing, pushing for all he was worth. He had to get to her. He had to. He'd only just really found her, he couldn't let her go. Not now. She'd promised she wasn't going to leave him, and he didn't want to be responsible for her breaking her promise. Cal matched him pace for pace. Both were painfully aware that busting in there without back up was suicide, but they couldn't wait. Cal suddenly grabbed Mulder's arm and brought him to a halt as he winced at the pain. He quickly dismissed it as he followed what Cal was pointing at. There was a way up to the top of the barn if they climbed the assault course of objects on the outside. Both men moved like cats up the various rusted machines and rubbish. Mulder's foot went through a concealed gap half way up, and he received a gash on his leg for his trouble, but he pressed on without even realising he was hurt. They reached the small opening into the loft of the barn. It was then they smelt the burning. Peering through the gap, the men could see the locals frantically trying to stoke this fire, and then, their gazes travelled to the corner where Scully and O'Brien were being restrained. Mr Gordon stood there, dousing them in 'Holy Water' and reciting biblical text. "Mulder" Cal whispered "This makes no sense. They've been raising the dead to kill convicts, why would they suddenly turn to killing people themselves?" The realisation dawned on Mulder like a crack of thunder. "They're not going to kill them" "Then what?" Cal was growing impatient to get in and do something. "I think this runs a different course. I think they're being prepared for something. Wait! Look at that!" Cal watched with horror as both women had their blouses lifted and 'Holy Water' smeared across their bellies. He could see Claire squirm as the man touched her, and she said something to him, he couldn't hear what, but it wasn't nice. "Re-birth" He whispered "It's a Goddamned fertility ritual!" Without another word, Cal swung himself deftly inside the opening and onto the hay loft. It creaked slightly under his weight, but not enough for the pre-occupied locals below to notice. Before Mulder could even get inside after this headstrong young man, he was off, circling the loft to get closer to Scully and O'Brien. Mulder caught up with him and hauled him back, they both dropped to the ground and concealed themselves. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mulder bit. "We have to move quickly before anything else happens" Cal replied, his urgency bleeding into his voice. At that moment, they heard Scully's panicked voice below them. "There's no point! I'm barren, I can't give birth to anyone's children!" Mulder immediately lowered his head to hide the pain in his eyes. Scully's exclamations were met with a low mumbling of "Miracles….He can bless you….Not beyond him…" Cal turned to Mulder. His voice soft and full of compassion. "Is that true?" Mulder nodded once silently and pushed himself off of the ground, he ran to the edge of the gallery and swung himself over it, dropping to the ground at the feet of the infamous Mr Gordon. At once he was set upon by the Sheriff, who approached from behind him. Mulder managed to escape his hold just barely, as Cal made his entrance from the loft and pulled the Sheriff down with him. A hefty punch, and the sheriff was out cold. Meanwhile, Mulder had set about untying Scully, who in turn was untying Claire as Mulder cornered a now fallen from grace Mr Gordon. "So, Mr Gordon, We finally meet" He kept taking definite steps towards the man, who began to cower in the corner. His congregation, lacking leadership, stood there unsure of how to proceed. The Celebrant looked around him, and immediately straightened. "Do not be afraid! God is still with us! He will save us from darkness and we shall win! We shall bear his children, and rid the world of all that is evil!" --------------- Mulder struggled to sit up only to find his limbs strangely numb. He eventually gave it up, and tried to move his head around. This he found he could do, and his eyes fell on Scully's bruised and scratched face as she smiled softly at him. "You're awake" "Everything except my head is still asleep" "That's the painkillers in your system - they had to hit you hard, you messed yourself up" "I did?" "Yes, you've got some pretty bad ligament damage to your shoulder where you dislocated it, a nasty gash in your right leg, and a couple of broken ribs. We thought you might have had severe head trauma too, but it was just a bit of concussion" she smiled sweetly at him. "And you're okay?" He asked, worried. "I'm fine Mulder, but you're not, you need rest" He could feel the medication taking him under again, he didn't want to go, he wanted to touch her first. He tried but couldn't move his hand. She sensed his frustration and moved her hand to smooth his forehead and cheek. "Okay Scully?" He murmured as sleep claimed him. "Okay Mulder." She whispered back, pressing her lips to his head as he closed his eyes. ----------------- He awoke with a start several hours later. All he could feel was burning, stabbing pain in the areas Scully told him he had his injuries. He must have made some noise indicating this, because she was immediately out of her seat and tending to him as he winced. "Does it hurt Mulder?" "Yes, yes quite a bit." "Look, if you press this button whenever you're in pain, it administers more pain relief" She pressed the button. "You should feel better in a few minutes" He closed his eyes as he felt the pain fade at a frightening speed. "Scully, what is this stuff?" "It's the strongest medication there is to block out pain" she said with a hint of regret. "Am I that bad Scully?" "You tell me Mulder, how bad did it hurt just then?" He didn't answer, just nodded his head slightly. "You think I could sit up a bit? I don't like not being able to see you properly." Ordinarily she wouldn't have let him, but the pleading look in his eyes made her relent, and she raised his bed just enough. He smiled a thanks at her, and finding that he could now actually move his arms a little bit, he held his hand out to her. She took it and he let his thumb rub in circles over her skin. In the silence, she knew what he was going to ask next. "What happened Scully?" She took her lower lip into her mouth nervously, not knowing where to begin. His hand squeezed hers in encouragement. "Well, they took Agent O'Brien and myself into the barn….." He cut her off, "O'Brien! Jameson! Where are they?" She swallowed audibly. "Mulder, Jameson is in worse shape than you. He's in ICU right now, he got knocked out cold and he hasn't woken up yet." Mulder closed his eyes. It was his fault that Cal got hurt. He shouldn't have charged into the situation. "And O'Brien?" He whispered, slightly frightened to know the answer. "She's at his bedside. They haven't been able to move her." She gave a slight smile, knowing that they hadn't been able to move herself either. "Scully, what happened after we cornered Gordon? I don't remember." She turned from him and drew her chair closer to his bedside. She sat and gathered herself, taking his hand again. "Mulder, um, after we cornered him, he started speaking to the people, and whatever he was saying quickly turned into commands. These…..these 'people', they tackled you to the ground and as you fell, they picked up the shovels and tools in the barn and starting beating you with them. You managed to cover your head somehow to the worst of it, but one of them got a lucky blow and you were knocked unconscious. They did the same to Cal, he wasn't so lucky…." "And you?" She continued "Myself and Claire tried to get to you, but the people forced us back - they had the strength to hurl us both against the far wall." "Scully…" He said her name with regret. She could tell he wanted to blame himself for this as well. "Mulder, there's nothing you could have done, we're both fine. The cavalry arrived a few moments later, and as Gordon heard the sirens, he said something to the people that must have been a 'self-destruct' command. They all…they…" she broke off, unsure of how to continue. "They threw themselves into the fire Mulder. They killed themselves because one man had brainwashed them and asked them to. The fire then caught on the whole barn and the cops dragged us out. They couldn't save anyone else." She dropped her eyes. His own eyes spoke of sympathy for these people, even though they had attacked them. "I can't fit the pieces together Scully. Why were the convicts killed? And by what or whom? For what purpose?" "I asked the team to bring me the reports of what they found at the site and through the town, the answers are there. Mr Gordon was a known con man. He'd served prison time for misleading people and also had a history of obsessional religious behaviour. He flitted from one organisation to another for years - eventually creating his own." "The Church of the Renaissance" Mulder stated. Scully continued. "He thought that the only way to make people repent for their sins was to kill their mortal bodies. He claimed that it was the vessel that created wrong doing, not the essence. The soul would then be re-born among his people and be raised in the ways of the church, effectively achieving salvation as he saw it. By uttering a prayer at the moment of death, the tainted soul was prevented from entering hell, and instead came back to Earth, back to the exact body he wanted it to." "….And he couldn't find enough women to give birth to these convicts, so he did this….Scully I'm so sorry." He lowered his head. "It's not your fault Mulder. There's nothing you could have done." She searched for his eyes to meet her face. Eventually they did, his jaw set, his eyes waging war. "I could have gotten to you sooner." He spoke it quietly. Deliberately. "Mulder. Listen. How you managed to even get as far as you did with a dislocated shoulder and a severely damaged leg is beyond me. I'm okay. It's all okay." "Yeah, but Cal isn't, and that is my fault." His Hazel eyes were dark and cloudy - a classic sign of impending MulderGuilt. "Oh Mulder…" She scooted onto the bed beside him, careful not to hurt him, and held him the best she could without moving him too much. She kissed his hair and whispered comfort to him. -------------------------- 4 weeks later "Honestly, they're as bad as each other" Scully smiled. "I know. How old are they again?" Claire shook her head as she watched Cal desperately try to carry a file down the hall whilst on his crutches. He winced slightly as he turned the corner too fast, bending his still tender ribs. Mulder rounded the corner after him, limping quite a lot on his right leg, but refusing a cane. He took great delight in over taking Cal and holding the door to the office open for him. Cal reached the door red faced, and aside from a little irate with Mulder, he was triumphant. He had awoken from his apparent coma the day after Mulder was lucid enough to speak to Scully. The doctors had been amazed with how fast both seemed to be back on their feet. Skinner only allowed them to do minimal work and half days at present, but the fighting spirit hadn't been quashed in either of them. The competition more than anything kept them going. They each eased into a chair as they tried to recover from the short burst of exuberance. Cal pretended to be interested in his file to disguise his wheezing and panting, whilst Mulder even attempted his patented lean back on his chair, before he decided the angle hurt his ribs too much and he sat normally. Scully stood, still smiling to herself. "Come on Mulder, home time." He smiled almost gratefully at her, work really took it out of him these days, he liked to go home and fall asleep just holding her. He rose from his chair and glanced briefly at Cal, who was still pretending to actually be working. He put his hand on his shoulder as he passed. "You too big guy, let's get out of here." The four figures exited the office, leaving an eerie calm over the place. It was as if the X-files itself had been re-born. New blood, new considerations, but the same elements. Progression without loss. How it should be. ----------------------- *~End~* Hee Hee Hee - I just couldn't resist that last bit! LOL! Yeah, I know it was hokey and trashy - but I left it hanging too long, some sort of conclusion had to be written! New agents on the x-files should only be in this format...alongside Mulder and Scully....in my humble opinion of course.....