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Title: Solidaire Encore Summary: In the midst of a strange X-file, Scully is dreaming and praying. Is her prayer answered? Notes: The dust cover for this story, along with my other stories, can be found at my archive, http://www.geocities.com/spookyteacher (Spookyteacher's Classroom X). Special thanks to Susan F. for her constant encouragement and beta-reading (and then some!). Thanks, too, to all the Philes at X-Files Cafe (www.geocities.com/verminatrix), a great place to talk X-Files... and cooking! And, as always, I must thank Julie and Jan for getting me started in this fanfic business. Panama City, FL "Planet Earth is blue A man in a brown suit turned off the ignition, silencing the radio, and stepped out of a blue, government-issue car. He grabbed a briefcase from the backseat, straightened his rather boring tie, and walked towards a ramshackle factory. The faded sign over the wooden double doors read, "Choctawhatchee Seafood." The man passed under it, pushed the doors connected by a chain and padlock apart enough to squeeze through, and entered the decaying building. Once inside, he was surprised by the size and openness of the building. There were a few boxes piled in a couple of the corners, lots of dirt on the floor and cobwebs near the ceiling, but there were no people. The man stepped further into the room and called out, "I'm Mr. Stillwood with Bay County HRS. I need to talk to you." He looked around. No movement. No one. "Look, we know you're here. We know you dropped Sam at the hospital last week." Still no movement. "Come on, y'all!" Frustration rose in his voice. "We know you're living here. Sam told me. We just want to talk to you." When no one answered, he walked towards a door on his far right. As he walked, he continued to call out, "I just want to talk to y'all. Come on out so we can talk." He stood on his toes and looked through a dirty window in a door. "If you talk to me now..." he said, leaning forward to look through the doorway, "you won't have to talk to the sheriff later." "How is he?" The voice startled him and he swiveled around to see who had spoken. He saw a dark-haired boy of about fourteen dressed in denim overalls, a dirty white T-shirt, and old black hi-top sneakers standing in the middle of the large,open space. The boy was looking at him with piercing blue eyes that shone through his dirty face. "Wh.. What?" Stillwood stumbled, struggling to regain his composure after being startled. "How's Sam?" The boy stood still and continued his glare at Stillwood. "Oh, well... he's a little better. He's conscious now. But, he's still pretty sick. Wanna tell me what happened to him?" Stillwood walked towards the boy at a steady pace. "He got sick," the boy responded matter-of-factly. "Yes...but how?" The boy shrugged. "Don't know. That's why we took 'im to the doctors." Stillwood shook his head, frustration welling inside him. "O-K... So, are you the only one here?" Stillwood stopped about three feet away from the boy. The boy shook his head. "No? Who else?" The boy's eyes narrowed. "Why ya wanna know?" "It's my job. I mean, we have to make sure you're all okay... not sick like Sam," Stillwood explained. The boy gave Stillwood a cool stare as he studied him. "What's your name?" The boy didn't answer; he continued his cold stare. But after a short while, he seemed to have come to a decision. "Come on in," he called. Stillwood watched the boy intently, but his attention was quickly diverted: there were children walking through the doorway. One by one, they filed in and formed a circle around Stillwood. Stillwood took them in: there were a half dozen children, ranging in ages from eight to thirteen, wearing dirty and tattered clothing. They were all staring at him. Stillwood finally found his voice to speak again. "Well, there are quite a few of you, aren't there? So...how'd you come to live here?" None of the children spoke to him. They all continued to stare at him, including the first boy. Stillwood continued, "I'm going to need to get all your names," he put his briefcase down on the floor and knelt down to open it. "Now, just give me a minute and I'll.." All of a sudden his body jolted as if he'd been hit in the ribs. He fell onto his side. After managing to roll onto his back, he looked up at the children only to see that they were all staring blankly at him. After a few seconds, he winced again and grabbed his side. He thrashed about, as if he was being beaten, and cried out several times. None of the children made any attempt to help him. Instead they filed out of the room in silence, leaving Stillwood alone and in agony. Lone Gunmen's Office "... and Henry Kissinger was abducted by aliens, yeah right!" Jay Leno's voice drifted from the TV set nestled among computers and assorted electronic equipment on the counter. Audience laughter followed this as a shadow crossed in front of it. "Hey, Kevin, did ya hear the latest from Hollywood?" Leno's voice carried on, "No? Well, it seems that..." "Fountain of youth?! What the hell is that for?" Frohike bellowed. Byers leapt about four feet into the air and dropped the papers he was reading onto the floor. When he landed back on the stool, he turned around and scowled at Frohike. "What's wrong with you? Don't do that," he admonished. Frohike, who'd been reading over Byers' shoulder, moved to sit on the stool next to Byers. "I came to see why you were still up. I was hoping you were re-checking the newspaper's layout, but instead you're... what? The fountain of youth?" "I finished checking the layout fifteen minutes ago," Byers replied. "I was just... researching something for our next issue, when Ben... remember Ben?" Byers attempted to organize the papers he'd dropped. "Yeah, one of our subscribers in Florida. He gave us really good info about the Gulf Breeze sightings," Frohike remembered. Byers nodded. "He e-mailed us with some info he'd gotten from this hospital in Panama City, Florida. " Byers finished his explanation, stood, and moved a few feet down to a keyboard and monitor. He began typing on the keyboard. Frohike stood, his hands outstretched, waiting for Byers to continue. When he didn't, Frohike prompted, "And..." "Oh," Byers replied, seeming to have forgotten that Frohike was there. He handed Frohike the e-mail from Ben. "Read it. Seems there's an eleven-year old boy who showed up there a week ago with arteriosclerosis, high blood pressure, diabetes, osteoporosis..." Frohike finished reading the e-mail. "He's a sick little boy." "Mmm, hmmm," Byers affirmed. "Ben also sent a copy of the boy's medical chart." He motioned to the computer monitor. Frohike stepped next to Byers and studied the monitor. They both read for several seconds. "He's got profuse wrinkles, age spots. His teeth are falling out due to advanced gum disease... his hair is turning gray and he's lost most of it over the course of his week hospital stay," Frohike read. "Just your typical childhood diseases, right?" Byers asked sardonically. Frohike considered this before he asked, "Byers, what does this have to do with the fountain of youth? This kid's aging, rapidly." Byers moved back to sit on the stool. "Well, I was trying to research aging when I came upon the fountain of youth legend. And the fountain of youth was supposed to be in Florida. That's where Ponce de Leon was searching for it." "Yeah..." Frohike intoned, disbelief dripping from his voice. "This is like the reverse of that. What if there is a fountain of aging and the kid found it?" Byers asked. Frohike rolled his eyes. "Okay, that's it, Byers. You've been staring at these monitors too long. You need sleep and you need it now." He grabbed the papers from Byers and turned off the monitor. Byers started to protest. "No, no," Frohike concluded as he propelled Byers by the shoulders away from the work area. "It'll be here in the morning. You're getting punchy and need sleep." Byers walked slowly in front of Frohike. Langly appeared in a ratty gray Spice Girls T-shirt and red boxer shorts. "What's goin' on?" he asked sleepily. "The sheriff was checking into it. Maybe Scully could get the police reports for us... find out some more," Byers continued, not even noticing Langly's arrival. "Now I know you're punchy! Go get some sleep!" Frohike chastised. He pushed Byers past Langly, who was still looking quite bewildered. He shrugged, snapped the TV off, and followed Frohike and Byers. "Ground Control to Major Tom, Scully awoke suddenly as the sound of the radio alarm went off. She lay motionless for a while as she listened to the song and tried to remember the dream she'd been having. She rolled over on her side and started to hit the off button on the clock, but stopped. Instead, she rolled back and stared at the ceiling trying to picture Mulder's face from the dream. "Here am I floating round my tin can Finally, when the last strains of the song finished, she sat up on the edge of the bed and turned off the radio. She reached for her robe hanging on the foot board and eased it on as she slowly got out of bed. She was not hugely pregnant, but noticeably so and standing took a bit more efffort. Looking down at her swollen abdomen peeking through the robe's opening, she decided that leaving her robe untied would be more comfortable. As she started toward the bathroom the phone rang. She stopped and groaned audibly. Turning back, she walked to the bedside table and answered. "Hello?" "Good morning, Dana," Maggie Scully's cheerful voice answered. "How're you feeling? Did you sleep well?" "Fine, Mom," Scully fibbed, running her hand through her hair and yawning. Irritation tickled her brow into a sharper arch: she hated cheerfulness this early in the morning. "You had that dream again, didn't you?" "Mom..." Scully's irritation was evident in her voice. "Dana, you need to talk about it." "Mom, they'll go away," she declared in a clipped tone. Silence. Scully broke the tension, her voice softer. "It's okay." Maggie interrupted her. "But they're not going away. They mean something..." Scully broke into Maggie's statement, struggling to hide the emotion that filled her voice, "They just mean I miss him, Mom. That's all." "I know it's been months, but... You can't give up..." . Silence, again. Scully closed her eyes and her lips went into a straight line as if trying to hold herself together. Scully filled the silence quickly, not even trying to hide her strong emotions. "Mom, I really don't want to talk about it. Okay? There's nothing more I can do. I've tried... It's just..." "If he can, he'll find a way home to you," Maggie stated in a quiet, soothing voice. Then, realizing that dwelling on this subject any longer would be far too painful for her daughter, she changed the subject. "How about lunch? Hmmm? We can talk face-to-face. And I can look at my lovely daughter and make sure she's eating right. What do you say?" Scully straightened the pile of magazines on her bedside table near the phone, considering the offer. "Alright," she conceded, relieved that her mother had given up talking about Mulder. "But it'll have to be a late one. I have a lot to do this morning." "You're working too hard. You should be..." Maggie started. Scully stopped her, "Mom! See you at Milligan's at 2:00." She hung up the phone and stretched before heading into the bathroom. X-Files Office Scully sat at the desk. Three small piles of paper were in front of her as she prepared her monthly expense report. She considered the piles for a moment, noting that there were less than before. In fact, her monthly expense reports were a breeze now. The auditor's report from last year had effectively cut most out-of-town travel. She primarily did research in the office now and her assignment with The X-Files office had been made only part-time. She was assigned to Quantico, again, to teach forensics ten days each month. Such thinking usually led her to more sad thoughts. So, to stave them off this morning, she stood and left the room. She went down the hall and prepared a mug of tea, taking a deep breath to clear her mind so she could focus on the task at hand. As she took her mug of tea and stepped back to the X-Files office, she noticed a large manila envelope on the desk. She focused on the envelope. Then, leaning out the door into the hallway, she looked to see who might have left it, but no one was there in either direction. She looked back at the envelope and walked to the desk. As she sat down, she picked up the envelope and examined it. There was no writing on the outside and it was not sealed. She removed the contents from the envelope. There were copies of hospital charts, an HRS report, and a printout about the fountain of youth. Also, there was a piece of paper with the words, "Police reports, Bay County, FL," typed on it. Scully picked up the HRS report and studied it: "Mr. Eugene Stillwood reports that there are at least half a dozen children ranging in age from eight to fourteen living at the abandoned Choctawhatchee Seafood Factory. This is where Stillwood claimed Johnny Doe #468, who's currently in critical condition at Bay County General Hospital, was from. Stillwood is now on medical leave, recuperating from numerous injuries he claims occurred during his site visit to Choctawhatchee Seafood. Other HRS counselors have made site visits to the same factory but have found no sign of children. However, all have returned with some type of injury. Contact Bay County Sheriff for follow-up." Scully frowned and flipped the envelope over in her hands. She grabbed all the contents and shoved them back into the envelope. She stood, envelope in hand, and headed out the office door. Lone Gunmen's Office Frohike sat on the couch, away from the work area, perusing his Hot Internet Babes magazine. "Oooo!" he exclaimed as he dog-eared the page. "Gotta visit that website..." A sudden loud pounding on the door startled him and he nearly fell off the couch. The magazine dropped to the floor and he scowled as he looked over to the door. He looked across the room at a security monitor and saw Scully as she continued to pound on the door. "OPEN UP!!" she yelled through the closed door. She continued pounding until she heard the sounds of locks being thrown. Frohike opened the door. "Where's the fire?" Scully pushed past him and walked into the work area. She stopped and faced Frohike, giving him a cold stare. "Where are your co-conspirators?" "What's going on?" Byers asked as he and Langly walked in, both wearing confused expressions. With all the culprits present, Scully plopped the manila envelope on the counter next to a computer monitor. "No more!" she asserted loudly as she shot withering glares at all three men. The men stared at the envelope, all at a loss for words momentarily. Finally, Byers found his voice. "Scully..." he managed to get out. "What's the problem?" Langly asked matter-of-factly. Scully was furious. "You can't keep sending me these expecting me to feed you information. Don't you understand? They're looking for any excuse... " She stopped short as she'd said more than she wanted. "Look, I can't do this for you anymore." "Of course... we just were hoping..." Byers placated, still fumbling with his words. Frohike interrupted, "It's an X-File, Scully. We thought you'd be interested in it and we could work together like the last time." "And that is what I told you it was: the LAST time," Scully practically yelled at him, her frustration rising. "I cannot work with you. I can't..." "Mulder would." A sudden, tense silence descended on the room, as Langly's words seem to hang in mid-air. Byers murmured to Langly, out of the corner of his mouth, "Great going. Why don't you put some salt on that knife you just stuck in her back?" Scully spun away from them and started towards the door. Frohike quickly stepped in her path. "We're still looking for him..." Scully stopped two feet away from Frohike and gave him a pained look before dropping her gaze to the floor. Langly seized the opportunity to apologize. "Look, I'm sorry, Scully... but we need your help with this one. It's really interesting and we do think it has a certain..." he paused momentarily searching for the right words, "paranormal bouquet to it." His words hit Scully hard. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to force the memory of hearing Mulder say those words a long time ago from her head. To the Gunmen, she appeared to be wrestling with her thoughts. They exchanged glances and waited expectantly. Finally, a decision made, she turned around and faced the men. All of them looked at each other for a minute before Scully walked back to the counter. "What is all this stuff?" she asked, tapping the envelope she'd left on the countertop. Byers was the first to move to meet her at the counter. "It's actually an HRS case in Florida. HRS discovered a group of children living in an abandoned seafood factory." "What's this note about a police report?" She held up the typed note. "The HRS report states that they were contacting the Bay County sheriff," Byers explained. "We need the sheriff's report to find out what's really going on at that factory." "And this boy in the hospital?" Scully read from the chart, "Hardening of the arteries... high blood pressure... diabetes?" Frohike answered this time. "All the signs of aging. He's how they found out about the kids. He showed up at the hospital this way. Once he regained consciousness, he wouldn't tell them anything. Apparently, he finally said something to that HRS counselor, Stillwood, because he rushed off to that factory." Scully eyed Frohike. "11-years old?" After studying him for a few seconds, she turned her attention back to the envelope contents on the counter. "I'm almost afraid to ask... Fountain of youth?" Frohike and Langly looked to Byers, who was looking much like a deer caught in the headlights. Byers took his cue and cleared his throat before speaking. "Umm... We believe there is a connection. In 1521, Ponce de Leon was searching for the fountain of youth near this area. And the child in the hospital... well, he apparently told the HRS counselor that his birth date is August 9, 1953." Scully's expression became incredulous. "He must be confused." "Apparently someone is," Frohike offered. "Only thing is..." Langly finished, "He was reported dead in 1964." Scully's eyes narrowed and she returned her attention to the envelope contents. "And you want me to get you the sheriff's reports?" Eager looks passed among all three men. Scully groaned as she checked her speedometer: 45mph. The Beltway was busy and it was slow going in the heavy traffic. She glanced at her watch: 1:55. She'd never make it to Milligan's before 2:15. Her mother was going to be anxious. She sighed and reached to turn on the radio, hoping to ease her frustration. The lyrics of the song filled the car: "Ground Control to Major Tom... Commencing countdown, engines on..." Scully instantly recognized the song. She started to change the station, but stopped and listened as the song continued: "Check ignition and may God's love be with you... Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Liftoff... This is Ground Control to Major Tom... You've really made the grade... And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear... Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare..." She took her exit and headed for Milligan's. HRS office A group of about ten men and women, wearing suits, were seated around a conference table. Files, papers, and coffee cups were spread out on the table. They were all talking amongst themselves, waiting for the meeting to start. "I'm not going to take it, that's for sure," a man in a gray suit whispered rather loudly to a woman in a green suit. "I'll quit and move to another state to get a job if I have to. There is just no way!" "I don't want it either," the woman replied in a low voice. "Alright," a man at the end of the table called, gaining everyone's attention. As the room settled, he continued. "Okay," he started, looking at the papers in front of him, "Gene's doing better. He should be back to work day after tomorrow. Sam and Terri, as y'all know, were treated and released day before yesterday. Now, the sheriff's been checking out this mess and can find nothing up there at the factory. However, Ben, Sam, and Terri all insist they saw children up there. So..." The tension in the room heightened. "I'm going to have to send someone else up there." The reaction of the counselors gathered was probably similar to those being told they'd been chosen for hazardous duty, though less enthusiastic. "We have to protect the children if they're there," the man yelled over the clamor of discontent. "What? Does one of us have to actually die?" the man in the gray suit asked sardonically. More negative voices followed his. "Jim," a woman in a blue suit called amidst the chaos. Heads turned in her direction. "What safeguards are you going to take to insure our safety?" Jim shifted uneasily as attention turned back his way. He cleared his throat, wanting another moment to consider his reply. "Well... we'll get the sheriff's office to send a deputy or two with our counselors. That's the best we can do." Silence fell over the room. "Okay, I'll take it," the woman in the blue suit stunned everyone in the room. "But, I want Billy Crandall and Danny Williams from the sheriff's office to back me up." Jim nodded his agreement. "Alright, Helen, you got it. And," he turned his attention to the man in the gray suit, "Ed...you'll go with her." Ed stared at Jim, completely dumbfounded. There was an audible sigh of relief from the other counselors. The woman in the green suit leaned over and whispered in Ed's ear, "I don't think I heard you. Did you say 'I quit?'" Lone Gunmen's Office "This doesn't give us much," Langly complained, rattling the paper in his hand. "No, but it's more than we had before," Byers offered optimistically. "Byers," Frohike called from across the room, lowering the paper he was reading, "you'd tell everyone they were just going for a little swim on the Titanic, wouldn't you?" Byers' face reddened. "I'm just saying that we have more information than we had before Scully gave us the police reports. She didn't have to give them to us." "No, but she did," Frohike agreed, returning his attention to the paper. "Well, what've we got?" Langly asked. "We've got HRS reports that there are several children living at an abandoned warehouse and that the counselors were attacked..." "Maybe attacked," Frohike corrected. "ATTACKED," Langly reiterated, "while investigating at the factory." "But, the police reports state there was no evidence of children or anyone living at the factory," Byers added. "Then how were all three counselors hurt? And what about the boy in the hospital?" Langly asked petulantly. Frohike picked up. "He shows all symptoms of aging, according to the hospital records. I tried to contact Ben to get an update on his condition, but his e-mail address wasn't active anymore." "Typical," Byers interjected. "And prudent," Langly added. "Whatever... so I sent a letter Fed Ex to the P.O. box where we send the newspaper. Here's hoping he checks it everyday," Frohike concluded. "Did Scully say what she's going to do? Is she going to follow-up on any of this?" Langly queried. Both Frohike and Byers shrugged their shoulders. Scully's apartment "Ground Control to Major Tom..." Scully recognized the song and frowned. Turning off the radio, she headed to the refrigerator. She was a whirlwind of activity, making a tossed salad and dressing. She stopped for a moment and leaned back against the counter, taking a long drink from her glass of water. Her lack of energy frustrated her these days. However, as she stood there, she felt the baby stir and smiled, telling her it was all worth it. She stood still and placed her hand against her abdomen as the baby moved, savoring each flutter. A knock at the door pulled her from her reverie. "Hi, Mom," she smiled as she opened the door. Maggie gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek as she came through the door. Scully started to close the door but stopped when a man appeared in the doorway. "Pizza!" he called. Scully frowned at him, a bit startled. "Um..." He checked the paper on the box. "Vegetarian combo?" Scully nodded. "Just a minute." She turned away from the door and grabbed her purse from the sofa table. She avoided her mother's eyes. "It's eleven-eighty-six," the pizza guy at the door called in. "Here," Scully shoved several bills in his hand and took the pizza. The pizza guy checked the money in his hand. "Thanks," the guy exclaimed happily just as she closed the door. Scully turned back, pizza in hand, and faced her mother. Maggie glanced at the pizza box before giving her daughter an amused look. "I don't feel much like cooking these days," Scully explained, a bit sheepishly. "And I had a craving for pizza." She walked to the table and plopped the pizza down between the place settings. "Cravings?" Maggie followed her, "My favorite part of being pregnant." Scully grabbed the salad and dressing from the kitchen counter and set them on the table. "I had some strange cravings with all of you," Maggie continued. "Wine or water, Mom?" "Water," Maggie answered. Scully headed back into the kitchen. "I craved watermelon with Bill," Maggie continued. "It was olives with Charlie. That drove your father nuts. I'd send him out at all hours for those. With you, it was... let's see... it was Chinese food with Missy... Oh, of course! It was seafood with you." Scully placed a glass of water at each place setting and sat down. "I couldn't get enough shrimp and fish," Maggie went on as she sat down across from Scully, "and clams and crab. Thank goodness we lived near the water. But, your father got sick of fish. 'Fish, fish, fish, you're gonna give birth to a guppy,' he used to complain." Maggie laughed and looked over at her daughter, who wasn't laughing. Suddenly, she realized her insensitivity. "I'm sorry, Dana. I didn't mean to..." "S'okay, Mom," Scully reassured, "you want one or two slices?" She pulled the pizza box closer and opened it. "Dana, you're not alone." Scully studied the napkin in her lap as she smoothed it. "I know. But, it's not the same, Mom." "I know. But I want to be a part of this. This is a miracle! It really does make me happy. I don't care what others say." Scully closed her eyes. She was well aware of the talk behind her back at the FBI building and even at church. The priest had called to talk with her, but she wouldn't... couldn't. It was no one's business. She felt very alone. "I don't want to do this alone.... I don't think I can..." she said in a weak voice. "I said you're not..." Maggie started, but stopped as she realized Scully's implication. "Dana..." "Don't, Mom," Scully said more forcefully, startling Maggie. "Don't keep saying to just wait... he'll come back to you... just hold on. I don't want to hear that. I want..." She struggled to finish her thought, but couldn't. "You want him back," Maggie finished it for her. Silence. "Have you tried praying?" Scully gave Maggie an incredulous look, her brow furrowed. "Call Father McHugh. Ask him to help." She noted Scully's severe look. "Or just pray yourself." "Mom, that won't help me find him." "Have you considered that he may be beyond your help?" She looked at her daughter. "What we can't handle ourselves we should place in God's hands." Scully stared at her mother, unsure of how to answer. She remembered another time when she was told to pray to find Mulder. "Pizza smells good," Maggie changed the subject, pulling the pizza box away from Scully. "Think I'll have two slices." II. Skinner's Office "Agent Scully to see you, sir," Kimberly's voice called over the phone speaker. "Send her in," Walter Skinner acknowledged, pushing the papers he'd been reading back into the folder. He turned his attention to the door as it opened and Scully entered wearing a black suit. Skinner stood and noted the swell of her abdomen in between the flapping sides of her jacket. Scully moved to take a seat in front of his desk and crossed her legs. Skinner sat as well. "Agent Scully," Skinner greeted. "Sir," Scully began. "I wanted to speak with you about field work. There's a case in Florida that requires me going down there to investigate." Skinner shook his head. "Scully, you know I can't approve your trips. Approval still has to come from Assistant Director Casey." "But, sir, I have sufficient evidence that it involves an X-File," Scully explained. "I have done as much research as I can from the office. I have contacted local law enforcement and now I need to investigate this in the field. I need to go down there to determine the exact nature of this." "What case is this?" "Local law enforcement in Panama City have been investigating a case in which social workers have been mysteriously injured at an abandoned factory." She flipped through a file. "Also, a child, said to have been living with other children at that abandoned factory, is now critically ill with numerous conditions usually found in elderly people." "And, have you determined how these incidents are connected? What's the X-File?" "Sir, that is why I need to go down there. I believe this may have something to do with..." She hesitated before finishing, "...the fountain of youth." Skinner dropped his gaze to his desk and removed his glasses, much as he used to do when Mulder was explaining paranormal events. "Sir," Scully pushed on, "I need to assist local law enforcement. Two sheriff deputies and two more social workers were injured late yesterday at that factory." "Agent Scully, I don't care if the governor of Florida was hurt. THEY won't care who was hurt, and you will not be allowed to go out into the field. They want to shut you down." "Sir, can't you speak to Assistant Director Casey? I haven't been in the field for two months. And that was merely a forensic consult." She held up the file folder. "I have research and data that back this up. Perhaps he'd grant approval if you'd..." "Scully," Skinner stopped her. "He won't approve. After that audit, his job is to rebuff requests for funding for the X-Files office. That's how they'll close you down. They're just hoping you'll lose interest and request a transfer back to Quantico full-time." Scully gave him an icy, cold stare. "Besides," he added, almost apologetically, "they probably wouldn't let you travel now. They'd cite your..." he hesitated a moment, "condition as another reason to reject your travel request." Scully stood, the file folder in hand, and walked to the door. "Scully," Skinner called after her, "I'm sorry. I wish I could, but..." He struggled to explain. "No sir, you're just saving your own ass," she muttered dryly and walked out the door. Skinner stared after her, shocked. "This is Major Tom to Ground Control Mulder's immobile form floated in a brilliant white light towards the space ship. His eyes were closed, as though he was sleeping. As he reached the bottom of the space ship, his eyes jerked wide open and he screamed, "Help me, Scully!" Scully opened her eyes, a shocked and pained expression on her face. She realized quickly it was the dream, again. She was suddenly sad and angry. Angry that she can never remember the entire dream and that it always ended with Mulder crying out to her. She turned over on the bed and pulled the pillow to her tightly. "All right, Mom," she mumbled against the pillow as she closed her eyes and began to pray. X-Files Office Scully entered the office and the phone immediately rang. "Scully." "Hey, Scully, how are ya?" Frohike's chipper voice announced. "Fine," Scully answered. "So, when do you head to Florida to check things out?" Scully frowned as she leaned against the desk. "I don't." "You don't? Wha...?" "They don't allow much field work these days," Scully answered, grumbling a bit. "Well, then, how are we gonna find out what's going on? How can we stop this stuff?" Frohike was clearly concerned by this turn of events. "I'm going to continue to consult by phone, e-mail, and fax with the Bay County Sheriff's office, but there'll be no trips for me." "But, SOMEBODY has to go down there to investigate!" "Then, you guys go," Scully said, a bit exasperated. She started flipping through papers on the desk. "I'll be doing research here in D.C." She was clearly frustrated. "Us, go? In the field?" Frohike was staggered by the concept. Scully realized what she'd just said and frowned as she remembered a fateful trip to Las Vegas about 2 years ago. "Mmmm... perhaps that's not such a great idea. Let me just check things out from here." "No, no," Frohike countered, "I kinda like that idea..." "No, Frohike," Scully redressed, "it's really not such a good idea. Remember the trouble in Las Vegas? We all nearly ended up dead." Frohike didn't seem to have heard a word she just said. "I'll get back to ya, Scully." Just before he hung up, Scully heard Frohike yell, "Hey, Langly, Byers... got a great idea!" She hung up the phone, concern written all over her face. "Ground Control to Major Tom Mulder walked into the bright light and looked up. He turned around and smiled. His mouth opened to speak. Scully snapped awake and grabbed the phone as it rang for the fourth time. "Hello?" her very groggy voice asked into the receiver. "Oh, I woke you up. Sorry," Frohike's voice crackled from the phone. She pushed herself up to sit against the headboard. "Frohike?" "Yeah. Look, the guys and I took your advice and we're on our way!" It took a few seconds for this to sink into Scully. Her eyes widened and she quickly asked, "Where are you?" She was finally fully awake. "Let's just say I'm calling you on an air phone," Frohike answered. "Air phone?... Frohike, this could be dangerous. You guys need to come back and we'll check out what we can from here..." Frohike cut her off, "No way! Look, this call's costing me a fortune." "No, Frohike, don't..." Scully interjected. "We'll call you when we get some good stuff. Bye." "Frohike, no," Scully was still holding the phone. Realizing he was long gone, she hung it up and stared at it for several seconds. She glanced over at the clock and grimaced: 6:14. She leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes. Remembering what she'd been dreaming when the phone woke her, she again recalled her mother's advice and whispered a fervent prayer. 9:14PM Scully was sitting at the computer monitor. Knowing that the guys were in the field down in Florida, and probably in over their heads, had prompted her to dig deeper for some info on the abandoned factory. She read the monitor: Scully removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She perused papers in a file folder. Spotting what she was looking for, she picked up the phone and dialed. When someone answered, she asked, "May I speak with Dr. Kelly? This is Special Agent Dana Scully from the Federal Bureau of Investigation." "Just a moment," the woman on the other end answered. Scully was placed on hold for several minutes, giving her the opportunity to take a drink of water and check the papers again. She checked her research and the information the Lone Gunmen had given her. She was reading down the list of the hospitalized child's problems when Dr. Kelly came on the line. "Hello? This is Dr. Kelly." Scully refocused her full attention on the phone. "Yes, Dr. Kelly. I'm Dana Scully, a special agent with the FBI. I'm calling to ask about one of your patients, Johnnie Doe number 468. How is he doing? What's his current condition?" "I'm sorry," Kelly sounded confused. "How is this an FBI matter? Did the sheriff's office call in the F.B.I.?" "Not exactly. But it was brought to my attention and I was wondering if I might be able to help." "Well, unless you're a physician..." "I am," Scully interjected curtly. This threw Kelly, but just briefly. "What did you say your name was again? And which FBI office are you with?" "Special Agent Dana Scully. I'm a pathologist assigned to FBI Headquarters. I have experience in..." she searched for the right word, "...difficult cases. I'm hoping we might be able to work together to help this little boy." "Well... he's currently in guarded condition. We're treating all of his symptoms, but the catalyst, the cause of their onset, remains a mystery." "And all of the symptoms are usually found in gerontological patients?" "Yes. In fact some are found ONLY in that age group." "And you can find no cause? No reason for his sudden aging?" "No. We know it's not progeria. That was the first thing we checked for. And the HRS and sheriff's deputies can't find out a thing about where he lived. However, the HRS counselors say that there are more children out there. It would help greatly if we could get some information from them about the time of the onset of symptoms... what he was doing just before..." "And we need to know if the other children are in the same danger," Scully finished. "Do you know the condition on those injured last evening at the factory?" "Ah... yes," Kelly confirmed. "The counselors and one of the deputies were released this afternoon. The other deputy is still in the hospital with a broken leg and broken ribs. His lung was perforated by one of the broken ribs. He's in stable condition, being monitored." "Thank you, doctor. I'll be in touch." "Welcome." She hung up the phone and glanced back at the papers in the folder. Tapping her pen against the desk, she pondered them for a few minutes. Then, her eyes flared as she had an idea and turned to the computer. Bayou George "Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles The blue sedan passed the Highway 2301 sign, the Simmons trailer park, and the Chicken Haven restaurant. Inside the car, Langly was driving and singing along with the song as Byers fumbled with a map. Suddenly, Frohike sat up from the backseat, reached over the seat, and snapped the radio off. "Hey!" Langly protested. "Never was a Bowie fan... Jagger's much better," Frohike offered as explanation. "Besides, Byers needs to concentrate so he can find that factory." "Where do we turn, Byers?" Langly asked. Byers continued to flip the map to and fro. Finally, he settled on the proper direction to hold the map and studied it for a few minutes before answering. "Well... We should be coming up on Coe Road. It looks like..." He looked closer at the map. "Here's Coe Road, Byers," Langly noted with concern. Byers didn't look up or respond. "Byers?!" Frohike growled. Byers looked up and saw the Coe Road sign. "Turn!" Langly performed a Nascar-worthy turn. "Byers, let's give Langly a bit more warning next time. I can only afford to leave one kidney behind," Frohike advised sourly. "Turn right on Jones Road, Langly," Byers instructed, ignoring Frohike. Langly did as instructed and, after a few minutes, a metal building overgrown with weeds came into view. Langly pulled the car to a stop a short distance away. The three of them got out of the car and gazed at the building for a while. "Well, I don't see any kids," Langly observed. Frohike gave him a severe look. "Like they're going to come skipping out just for us! Come on." He started towards the building. Byers joined him and Langly, somewhat reluctantly, followed. Frohike walked through the unlocked door. He surveyed the wide-open interior as Byers and Langly walked up beside him. "Hello?" Langly yelled, causing a barrage of echoes. He smiled, pleased at hearing his own voice until he turned to Byers and Frohike and saw their looks of displeasure. "Geez, lighten up, guys." "We are on a case. Let's at least try to act like professionals," Byers cajoled. They began walking through the building toward the side door. After finding nothing that caught their eyes inside the building, they walked through the door and headed out of the building. A man in a car just behind some trees near the factory held a long-lens camera to his eye. Through the lens, he focused on Byers, Frohike, and Langly as they exited the back of the factory and walked into the overgrown field. He dropped the camera slightly and watched them move through the knee-high weeds. His attention was briefly diverted by the crackle of the police radio on the dashboard. He looked at it as the voice of the dispatcher informed an officer about a domestic situation. As he looked up to see the three men again, something caught his eye near the trees that bordered the field. He lifted his camera and tried to determine what caught his attention, but he saw nothing. When he turned back to them, they'd stopped walking and Frohike was pointing down at the ground. Langly and Byers were looking down, too, and they all began talking excitedly. He continued watching them for several minutes. Frowning, he lowered the camera as he reached for the radio microphone. "This is Woodard. Requesting back up at the old Choctawhatchee Seafood factory on Jones Road. Trespassers on property." Annapolis, MD Scully stopped her car at the gate, rolled down the window, and pressed the button on the speaker. "Yes?" the voice called through the speaker. "Special Agent Dana Scully. I'm here to see Mr. Platt." "Do you have an appointment?" Scully frowned. "No, but it will only take a few minutes. I need to speak with him about Choctawhatchee Seafood." Silence. Scully shifted a bit uncomfortably. Finally, the voice returned, "Mr. Platt will see you. Please pull through the gate and follow the drive to the house." The gate opened and she drove the car through it. She did as directed, following the driveway and pulling to a stop in front of the house. As she exited the car, she took in the house. It was a mansion. The front had ivy crawling up the wall and the lawn was beautifully landscaped and manicured. Scully ascended the steps to the porch and noted the surveillance camera following her as she walked to the front door. She moved her hand to ring the bell, but was startled when the door opened. She looked through the opening and spotted a man in a suit standing there. "Come in," the man requested. Scully walked through the doorway into the large, ornate foyer. Her gaze skimmed across numerous paintings, a huge staircase, and an equally huge chandelier hanging above it all. "Mr. Platt will meet you in the library. Follow me, please." Scully turned back to the butler and followed him into the library. The library was quite large and lined with bookcases stuffed with books. "I'll tell Mr. Platt you're here." Scully watched the butler leave the room. She walked over to one of the bookcases and scanned the titles. "Early American Exploration," "Spanish Exploration of Florida," "Ponce de Leon: Discoverer of Florida," are a few of the titles she read. "I cannot live without books." Scully turned to see a tall, sandy-haired man approaching her. She noted that he carried his age well. "C.J. Platt," the man said as he offered Scully his hand. "Agent Dana Scully," Scully stated, shaking his hand. "Have a seat." Platt motioned to a group of chairs in the middle of the room. After they were both seated, he spoke again. "What did you come here for, agent?" "I came to ask you about Choctawhatchee Seafood in Panama City. I have some questions about you closing it." Platt exhaled and shifted in his chair. "That was a long time ago. Why so interested in it now?" "Well, there have been some incidents there recently. Have the authorities in Florida informed you about them?" Platt frowned and shook his head. "Just that some social workers think some kids are hanging around the old place. I'm hoping they'll clear them out." "You closed it so long ago... Why didn't you ever sell the place?" "Tried to. For years. Didn't have a single bite on it." Scully considered this. "Not even the property? It's close to the water, isn't it?" Platt shook his head again. "No. I wish! I'd like to get rid of the white elephant. Of course, it is a nice tax deduction each year." He studied Scully for a moment before asking, "Why is the FBI investigating this?" Scully gave him a feeble smile. "Just assisting local law enforcement," she deflected. "Why did you close the company?" Platt looked up, gathering his thoughts. "The crabbing industry was experiencing a slump in the early 60's. We were losing money, so I had to shut it down. I hated to do it. All those people losing their jobs..." Scully noted a strange, faraway look in Platt's eye before he finished. "... but I had no choice." Scully studied Platt's expression. "Is there anything else, agent?" Platt asked. "Ummm..." Scully thought for a few seconds. "No, nothing right now. I may be back in touch, if I have more questions." "Of course," Platt agreed as he stands. "I'll see you to the door." He stood, waiting for her. Scully moved to stand, the process harder and taking more time than usual. Platt took a step toward her and extended a hand. "Can I help you?" "No," Scully answered, a bit curtly, as she got to her feet. "But, thank you," she added quickly. She moved through the library door and into the foyer, with Platt just behind her. She stopped and turned around as she reached the front door. "I was wondering..." she began. Her sudden about-face startled Platt. "What did you do after Choctawhatchee Seafood closed?" "Well," Platt stalled a bit before answering. "I played the market and did quite well. I dabbled in several different projects. Nothing really big. I never did run another business. Mostly, I invested in other people's business projects." His vagueness was not lost on Scully. "Thank you." She opened the door and walked out. Platt watched her leave, the door closing behind her. Then he quickly headed back to his office. The butler met him just before he went through the doorway. "Sir?" "Get me Steadham," Platt ordered hoarsely, glancing angrily back at the front door. As Scully was heading back to D.C., her phone rang. "Scully," she answered it. "Scully!" an exasperated Frohike called through the phone. "Thank God!" "Frohike? What's wrong?" "Well... this was our THIRD phone call. We each just get one. We tried the office, your home..." Scully's forehead wrinkled in consternation. "Are you in jail?" "Yes," Frohike groaned. "We were arrested for trespassing when we went to that seafood factory. I'm gonna sue for police brutality the way they arrested us!" The last part was obviously for the benefit of a cop standing near him. "You went to the factory?" Scully's voice was filled with displeasure. "Why?" "To check things out. But, just when things were getting good, the coppers swooped in and..." "Alright, I get the point," Scully interrupted. "What do you need? Bail money?" "Bail...?" Frohike was confused by her response to their incarceration. "We want out now! Talk to these people and tell them we're working with you!" "Frohike, I did NOT send you down there." "Ah, but you suggested it." "I was being..." She gave up. "Okay. Who's the arresting officer? I'll see what I can do." "Woodard." "Okay. You guys behave yourself in there and I'll see what I can do to get you out." "Alright, time's up," the cop called to Frohike. "One more minute," Frohike begged off. "And, Scully, we were wondering..." He hesitated for a moment. "How are you feeling?" Scully's mouth perked up at the corners into a smile. "I'm fine." "We realized on the plane we shouldn't have all left at once. I mean... don't go doing anything while we're gone." "It's too soon. Besides, my Mom's here. I'm fine," she reiterated. "Now!" the cop called again. "I'll work on things from here," Scully assured. "Thanks." He hung up. Scully shook her head as she hung up her cell phone and drove a bit faster back to the office. "Ground Control to Major Tom Ground Control to Major Tom Mulder walked into the bright light. He looked up, his eyes wide. "Scully, can you see this?" his voice floated through the light. "Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Liftoff..." Suddenly, the light intensified and Mulder was completely obscured by it. "This is Ground Control to Major Tom Mulder appeared again, this time in a field covered in a morning mist. "Scully," he called through the mist. "You won't believe what I've seen..." "...This is Major Tom to Ground Control The scene behind Mulder shifted from the misty field to a field of stars and he was floating among them. He smiled and moved his mouth as though he were speaking, but he had no voice. Scully jerked wide-awake. Her eyes blinked several times as she struggled with the memory of the dream. She sat up on the couch where she'd been napping. She was frustrated that she never seemed to finish it. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks just as the phone rang. "Scully," she answered, wiping her eyes. "Scully, have we got some info for you," Byers exuded over the phone. "When we went to the factory, we saw quite a bit. What?..." He seemed to be talking to someone else. "Oh... is this a secure line?" Scully smiled, realizing it was either Langly or Frohike who was really asking. "As secure as can be. I see you guys got out of jail." "Oh..." Byers remembered all at once, "yes. Thanks, Scully. We really appreciate you talking to the officer and getting him to let us out on our own recognizance." "Just be truthful with them and all charges should be dropped," Scully stated. "Okay..." Byers had more to tell her. "Like I said before, we saw quite a lot at that factory. Inside the factory, there wasn't much. It's falling apart. But, outside, several feet behind the building, we found a fallout shelter. One of those built in the early 60's during the Cuban missile crisis." "Okay," Scully interjected, "anything else?" "Yes," Byers continued. "There was a mess inside that shelter. Cans all over the place. Some of them were empty and some half-empty. Glasses all about. Jugs of water on shelves, some only half-full. Blankets and pillows strewn all over the floor. Someone's been living there... for a while." "Did you see anyone?" "When we came out of the shelter, Frohike spotted a couple of kids near the forest. We chased them into the trees, but lost them when the police showed up and arrested us." Scully considered all this, frowning at the last part. "Well?" Byers prompted. "What?" Scully asked, not seeing what he wanted. "This means there are kids here. They're living in that fallout shelter," Byers summarized. "Yes, well, the authorities are checking into that. But it doesn't explain why that boy is sick... or what happened to the social workers and the deputy." Byers was crestfallen. "Yes, but..." "Byers, let me continue to check some things from here. You guys..." She considered her words carefully, wanting to give them something harmless to do, and hit on just the thing. "Why don't you guys check out the county office? Find the geologic survey for the land where the factory stands. Check out...," she hesitated before finishing, "that fountain of youth theory." Byers took the bait. "Sure, we can handle that. We'll call you when we've got something. Bye." "Bye," Scully answered, but he'd already hung up. She hung up her phone and leaned back against the pillows. She rubbed her eyes, remembering the dream. She pulled a pillow close to her chest, closed her eyes, and mumbled a familiar prayer. As she rose, she promised herself she'd finish the dream. It was becoming an obsession. She had to understand it; had to know what Mulder was trying to tell her. She walked to the kitchen, a strange melancholy sinking into her. She returned to the couch, glass of water in hand, and sat down. She picked up some papers from the coffee table and studied them closer. "What?!" she growled through clenched teeth, trying to coax the elusive answer from the papers. The phone rang again. "Scully." "Agent Scully, this is Jim Hudson with Bay Realty. You left a message for me to call you. What can I do for the FBI?" "Thank you for calling me back, Mr. Hudson. I was calling about the old Choctawhatchee Seafood factory. Was it listed with your agency? And, if so, how long was it on the market?" "What? You must be confused Agent Scully. Choctawhatchee's old factory was never for sale." Scully's brow furrowed. "It was never for sale?" "No. I'm not sure where you got your information, but Old C.J. Platt never did try to sell it. There were all kinds of rumors, from Platt having a torrid affair with a local woman and seeking revenge on the entire community to him having his frozen body placed there until they find a cure for cancer." "He never tried to sell it? You're sure?" "Oh, yes," Hudson assured. "I contacted him several times. He wouldn't hear of it. Everybody was real upset when he closed the factory. I thought we could maybe get somebody else to come into take it over. I mean, the crabs were really doing great and he closes it. Go figure!" Scully considered this for a few moments before ending the conversation. "Thank you, Mr. Hudson. I appreciate your assistance." "Sure. Hey, this doesn't have anything to do with those social workers getting hurt out there, does it?" "Thanks, Mr. Hudson," Scully concluded the conversation, hanging up the phone. FBI Headquarters "Good morning, sir," Kimberly greeted Skinner. "Morning," Skinner responded as he headed for the door to his office. "Sir, this was on my desk when I arrived this morning." She was holding a large manila envelope. Skinner looked at it and as he took it from her, she informed him, "It's from Agent Scully." He looked at Kimberly and frowned slightly before continuing into his office. He sat down at his desk and opened the envelope. He pulled out all the contents and began reading the note in front: "Sir, I'm sorry I couldn't wait for approval, but several children's lives are in danger. I'm going Panama City, FL to assist the local authorities there. They don't understand what is really going on. I hope the enclosed information will help you understand the immediacy of this case. I'm sorry if they come down on you for this. Please assure them this was my decision. I'll speak with A.D. Casey when I return. I'll contact you when I have more information. Scully" Skinner removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in complete frustration. Choctawhatchee Seafood Factory III. Choctawhatchee Seafood Factory Scully pulled her rental car to a stop amid numerous marked and unmarked police cars and ambulances in front of the factory. She watched an ambulance pull away before getting out of the car. She studied the scene for a moment and then walked up to the policeman guarding the crime scene. After flashing her badge, he waved her through. She ducked under the tape and headed to the back of the building. She spotted a group of policeman gathered in the weed infested field, and headed toward them, none of them noticing her yet. As she got closer, one man looked up and walked towards her. "Can I help you?" Scully showed her badge again. "Special Agent Dana Scully. I spoke with Deputy Woodard on the phone yesterday." "Agent Scully," the man offered his hand. "I'm Woodard." Scully shook his hand. "What have you found?" "Six sick kids. We've transported four to the hospital so far." "What were they doing out here?" "From the looks of it, living out here. We found food and water in the shelter over there." "A fallout shelter," Scully added as they walked towards the group of policemen. "Yeah, we probably wouldn't have found it if your friends hadn't come out here snooping." "Are any of the children conscious?" "One is. He seems to be the oldest. We've been asking him questions, but he's not too helpful." "Where is he?" "Down there. Paramedics are working on him." Scully headed down the ladder into the shelter. Woodard offered her a hand. "No..." she deflected before adding, "...thanks." She climbed down the ladder rather easily, pleased with herself. She turned around and saw groups of paramedics working on two children lying on cots. She moved toward the first one and noted the boy was awake, watching the paramedics intently. "Do you mind if I talk to him?" she asked one of the paramedics. The paramedic shrugged. "Go ahead." The boy turned his attention to her as she moved up next to him. The first thing about him Scully noticed was his graying hair. "I'm Agent Scully." She looked down at the boys' face, noting the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. "Will you answer a few questions? We need to know some things so we can help you." The boy stared at her for a long while before talking. "You're gonna have a baby." Scully was taken aback for a brief second. "Yes," she conceded. The boy looked at her stomach and smiled. "My momma was gonna have 'nother baby." "What's your name?" The boy looked at her, deciding if he should say. Finally he answered, "Rudy." "Rudy, where is your mother?" The boy's eyes became very sad. "Dead." Scully started to ask something else, when the boy continued. "So's Daddy. And their momma and daddy, too." He looked over at the other boy a few cots away. "And you all lived here?" The boy nodded. Scully looked up and around the room. She saw the shelves had a few cans of food and there were jugs of water littered about, just as Byers had described it. She turned back to Rudy. "Where did you get food and water?" "The old man sent us food and we got water from the magic water place." One of the paramedics looked up and made brief eye contact with Scully before he continued working on the boy. "Magic water?" "That's what Momma and Daddy called it." "Where is this magic water?" The boy nodded his head to the left. "Other side of the woods. There's a lake over there." Scully nodded her understanding. "And who's the old man who gave you food?" "Don't know his name. He just told us to stay here so..." His voice trailed off and he became quiet for a moment. "He just sent us food every coupla months. Came on the truck that loaded up his magic water." The boy stopped talking and Scully was considering her next question when the paramedic called to her. "He's going up next." Scully saw that the other boy was being lifted up through the shelter opening. "He poisoned us!" Scully jerked her attention back to the boy. "That's why we all got so sick. He poisoned us with that food! How could I be so dang stupid?!" Scully put her hand on the boy's arm, trying to comfort him. "It's not your fault. You took care of them." "And they're sick cuz o' me!" He started crying. "Sam's real sick. They told me." "We have to go," the paramedic reminded her. "It's not your fault, Rudy," Scully consoled. "We're going to do everything we can to help all of you." Rudy looked up at her as they moved him out of the shelter. Scully watched them hoist him up and then began to ascend the ladder herself, but she found going up was much harder than coming down. A hand appeared in the opening. "Here, let me help." She recognized Woodard's voice and took his hand. With his help, she climbed the ladder. "Thanks," she offered once she was out. "Welcome," Woodard replied. "So, where's this lake?" Scully asked as she headed off toward the trees. Woodard appeared a bit confused as he followed her. "Lake? Well, there is a lake behind the woods. But... why do ya wanna see the lake?" "I want to see the magic water," Scully explained. Woodard gave her a quizzical look, but she didn't see it because she was on her way into the woods. They walked several hundred feet into the woods before Scully spotted the edge of something that could be water off to her right. She headed that way. "Yep, that's the lake," Woodard said, telling her she made the right choice to head that way. She continued walking until she came to the edge of a lake about a half-mile wide. She walked around the lake and stopped when she saw tire tracks in the mud. They appeared to be from large tires, probably a truck. Woodard stopped beside her and noted the tracks, too. "Must be from the water service." Scully looked up at him. "Water service?" "Yeah, they're connecting up to this lake and the next one hoping to get some more fresh spring water. They should be pumping from them next month. With the drought, water supplies are running low. But these lakes are fed by springs that seem to be doing just fine." Scully looked out at the lake. "They're hooking up to a private lake? Don't they have to get the owner's permission?" "They are the owner. Three-fourths of this lake is on government property." He nodded toward the other side of the lake. "And they found out the spring's on their side. They should be hooked up in about a week." Scully stared out at the water. "Magic water," she whispered. Emerald Coast Inn Scully knocked on the motel room door. Langly answered. "What did you find?" Scully asked as she came through the door. "It ain't good news," Langly warned as he closed the door. "What?" Scully asked. "Well," Frohike began, "the spring is being tapped by the local water service." "I know," Scully replied. The Gunmen appeared surprised. "But they haven't started pulling from it, yet. So that probably isn't what's making them sick," Scully concluded. "Well, they haven't started pulling from it yet, but they have got it connected to another nearby spring," Byers corrected. "That's diluting the spring water. The dilution would also lessen the effects. That must be why the kids got sick," Frohike concluded. Scully was quiet as she mulled all this over. "Hey, look," Frohike offered, "why don't you have a seat and we'll try to work all this out." "No," Scully declined. "I need to go talk to them." She headed back out the door. The guys were startled by her speedy exit and it took Byers several seconds to follow her. "Wait," he called as he ran through the door, but she was already in the car. "We'll go with..." Scully backed the car out and sped out of the parking lot. "...you," Byers finished, watching her car disappear down the street. Bay County (FL) Hospital "As I mentioned to you during our phone call, we're treating their symptoms, but I'm afraid they are not responding well." The doctor informed Scully as they walked down the hall. "Just wish I knew what the seven of them were doing out there." "They were living there with their parents, but their parents were found dead in the next town. They stayed there because they had nowhere else to go," Scully informed him. "They lived out there? Where'd they get food?" Scully considered this, then answered, "That remains a bit of a mystery, but they got water from a nearby spring." "Amazing," Kelly observed. Then, he continued to bring Scully up to speed. "The first boy died about four hours ago. We're still not sure exactly what caused such rapid degeneration. I've ordered an autopsy." "Mind if I sit in on it?" "No," Kelly answered. "Just check with Jeff Wilkes. He's our pathologist. I think he's planning to do it around 3 this afternoon." Scully nodded. "Dr. Kelly, I'd like to propose a treatment that is slightly unconventional," Scully offered. Kelly stopped in front of swinging doors marked "ICU." "Unconventional?" "Give them water from the spring behind the factory." Scully braced herself for the doctor's reaction. Kelly's eyes narrowed as he studied Scully before he broke out laughing. She raised her eyebrows and gave him a sharp look. He turned to enter the door and Scully followed. "You got me on that one. I agree. We're running out of options." As they walked toward the nurses desk, Scully could see several of the children in the glass-walled rooms of the ICU. She noted their gray, thinning hair and wrinkled skin. "No, Doctor Kelly. I am serious. As crazy as it may sound, these children are actually over fifty years old. They need the spring water, undiluted spring water, to keep their bodies from aging at such a rapid rate. Water from the same spring they drank from each day." Kelly turned to her; he'd stopped laughing and looked harshly at her. "Doctor Scully," he said loudly, drawing the attention of nurses and others in the ICU. He leaned close to Scully and dropped his voice as he continued, "I am not going to pump these children with spring water. Not unless you can PROVE to me it will cure them. Now," he stood up straight and glanced around the ICU, "I have patients to see." Scully closed her eyes and exhaled shaking off the rebuff. She turned around and headed out of the ICU, determined to prove her theory. Bay County Sheriff's Office Deputy Woodard was sitting behind his desk, gazing at Scully incredulously. "I know it sounds absurd, but how else do you explain those children? Their parents died 35 years ago and they've been living at the factory ever since." "We haven't established those are the children. In fact, we believe they may be the children of those first children," Woodard deflected. "Grandchildren? Then where are the parents and grandparents?" Woodard shifted uncomfortably. "The grandparents are dead. They were found dead in Chipley back in '64." "Who killed them?" "No one was ever charged." "And no one went looking for their children after they were found dead?" Woodard appeared even more uncomfortable. "The file says they tried to find the children, but to no avail. They were presumed dead,with their parents. The only way we found them now was when we arrested your friends. Sam spotted them in the woods. They couldn't really run. All of them were pretty sick." "Have you talked to Mr. Platt about any of this?" Woodard looked surprised. "We contacted his lawyer. But Platt must be pretty near to having Willard Scott wish him a happy birthday." Scully gave him a look of disbelief before dropping her gaze. She struggled to make sense of all this. Finally, she looked back up at Woodard and tried again. "And how would you explain the children's illnesses?" Woodard met her gaze. "I don't. That's up to the docs." Scully took a new tact. "Look, let's just check the water and see if it could be causing this. The water service has to stop their connection and then we can test some of the water." She looked at him expectantly. Woodard exhaled. "You realize what you're proposing? Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth?" Scully's gaze did not waver. "I must be crazy," he muttered as he picked up the phone. "Let me see if I can get Simon on the line." Scully nodded her appreciation. "By the way, just how do you explain how the deputy and all those social workers were injured?" Woodard asked as he dialed the number. "I 'spose the dead parents came back to protect their children?" Scully took a moment before answering. "Parents will do anything to protect their children." "The dead coming back..." Woodard mumbled sarcastically before calling into the phone, "Simon, how ya doing?" One week later "Agent, Scully. I wasn't expecting to see you again," Platt said enthusiastically as he entered the library and saw Scully standing there. "I should think not," Scully replied. Platt's face darkened a bit, but he tried to keep his voice light. "So, what brings you back out here? Those kids aren't causing anymore trouble, are they?" Scully's face reddened. "Those kids," she spit out, "are all dead." She noted Platt's shocked expression. "And I'm pretty sure you know why." Platt looked sharply at Scully. "You NEVER tried to sell that factory. Because there was something there you wanted that you didn't want anyone else to know about. You discovered that spring had regenerative properties. In essence, you found the Fountain of Youth." Platt considered Scully through narrowed eyes. "You've been taking water from the spring for years. People in the area reported seeing an unmarked truck there on a regular basis. That explains why you are such a youthful-looking 99-year old." Platt's eyes widened. "But none of this is a crime, is it?" Scully shook her head. "No. But, murder is." "Murder?" Platt asked icily. "Yes. The murder of those children's parents. Did they discover your spring and threaten to reveal it to others? Is that why you had them killed?" Platt didn't answer. He just continued to glare at her. Scully continued, undeterred by his coolness. "You began providing food for the children, out of guilt, perhaps. How did you keep them there? Did you threaten them? Did you convince them they'd be sent to an orphanage?" "You said the children are dead?" "Yes. Tell me, where you aware the local water service was connecting to your spring?" Platt's eyes widened further and his mouth opened slightly in shock. "What?" "I guess you didn't hear. The drought's so bad, they're hooking up to nearby springs to get fresh water. Your spring begins on government property next door." Platt looked ill. "That's what caused the children's death. Their bodies aged very rapidly, too rapidly. The water was diluted by the other spring. The water service will not be deterred from tapping those springs. They need the water." Platt looked at her, a bizarre expression of fear and disbelief and anger on his face. Scully took a step closer. "Perhaps I can't prove that you murdered their parents, but there is some justice." She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "You'll be meeting the same fate as those kids." She turned and walked out. Platt didn't notice her departure. After a few minutes, he shook himself out of his daze and rushed from the room. "Graham!" he yelled as he charged down the hall. "Graham!" "Sir?" the butler answered as he walked out of the office. "How much of the spring water do we have?" Platt's voice was shrill with panic. "About 50 gallons, sir." Platt's shoulders dropped and he had a faraway look on his face, calculating how long that supply would last. Graham regarded him with a puzzled look. Platt began muttering to himself. "There has to be something... have to try something... anything... what..." "Sir?" Graham asked, concerned. Platt looked up suddenly. "Get Steadham out here." Graham turned to do as instructed. Platt stopped him. "Wait! After you call Steadham, get Doctor Phillips on the phone. He should be able to do something." He walked into his office, continuing to mumble to himself. "Yes... he HAS to do something... has to..." He passed a mirror on the wall and stopped short. He looked in the mirror and studied his hair. Then, his eyes fell to his face and he rubbed it with his hands, hunting for wrinkles. His eyes widened with fear as he pulled at his eyes. "NO!" "Ground Control to Major Tom Ground Control to Major Tom Mulder walked into a bright light. He looked up, his eyes widening with surprise. "Scully, can you see this?" his voice floated through the light. "Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Liftoff..." Suddenly, the light became even brighter and Mulder was completely obscured by it. "This is Ground Control to Major Tom Mulder appeared again, this time in a field covered in a morning mist. "Scully," he called through the mist. "You won't believe what I've seen..." The scene behind Mulder shifted from the misty field to a field of stars just as it had in her previous dream. He smiled and spoke, "I can't wait to tell you about this place." "For here A spaceship with bright lights replaced Mulder. "I had to go, Scully," his voice called. "Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles Mulder appeared again, but this time only his head is visible as he's wearing all black clothes and standing in black nothingness. "I love you, Scully." "Ground Control to Major Tom "I'm home, Scully." She woke up all at once and blinked repeatedly, remembering the entire dream. As she struggled with her emotions, tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She reached for a glass of water on the coffee table and took a sip. As she swallowed, she considered the glass. "Magic water," she mused aloud. With those words, she remembered the case in Florida: the children were dead and their parents had been dead for years. Emotions flooded through her and she began to cry. She never became emotionally involved. She wouldn't allow herself to, but this time the deaths of all those children, who really were older than she, deeply saddened her. She covered her mouth to silence her sobs. She cried hard for those children. She cried for her frustration of not being able to bring that horrible man Platt to justice. She cried for the long-dead parents, who never saw their children grow up. She cried for all the fears she had for her own unborn child. And she cried for fear that Mulder would never know their child and that their child would never know him. She never knew she had so many tears inside her. Just then, the phone rang, making her jump slightly and quelling her sobs. She looked at the phone as if trying to decide whether or not to answer it. Her decision made, she wiped her tear-stained face, tried to regain control, and reached for the receiver. "Scully." She listened, her eyes half-closed, continuing to wrestle with her emotions. Suddenly her eyes popped wide open. "WHERE? WHEN?" She listened intently. "Where did you say?" She listened as she awkwardly swung her legs around to a sitting position on the couch. She was now wide-awake. "I'll be right there." She slowly returned the receiver to its cradle. This done, she cupped her face in her hands as her mind tried desperately to process the information. Adrenaline was fast waking all parts of her sleepy brain. When the motor cortex was jarred back to life, she stood and moved quickly to the door, grabbing her keys on the way. She opened the door, only to be startled. "OH!" She and Langly screamed at the same time. "Langly?! What are you doing?" she asked angrily, regaining her composure. Langly held up a small, white envelope. "I was dropping off a gift certificate to that Great Expectations shop. I wanted to make-up for that stupid thing I said last week." Scully just looked at him for a moment, then she walked right past him. "Whoa!" Langly called as he quickly stepped around into her path. "Where you going? I thought you were said you were going to sleep for a week?" Scully shook her head as she sidestepped around him. "Where are you going?" Langly asked again as he chased after her. Scully didn't respond. She grabbed for the door to go outside, but Langly reached around her and pushed it closed. "Where are you heading?" he demanded. Scully was furious and frustrated. She turned around and looked up at him. From the way she was looking at him, he should by all rights be dead now. Instead of answering his question, she asked him, "You got the van?" Bewildered, Langly answered, "Yeah..." "Drive me to Georgetown Medical Center," she ordered and yanked the door open. A camera, fitted with a telescopic lens, clicked as it followed Scully walking briskly down the sidewalk. The pictures were being taken from a dark green sedan parked two houses down from Scully's. There was only one person in the car and the camera obscured their face as the shutter continued to snap, following Scully as she crossed the street to the van. Langly was rushing after her, clearly worried. "Why?" he managed to get out, though he seemed pretty sure of why she wanted to go to the hospital. Scully stopped at the van's passenger door, waiting for Langly to unlock it. As he reached around her to open the door, she answered, "Mulder's there." Langly stopped short as Scully moved through the open door and sat down on the seat. His eyes widened with shock. That was not what he was expecting. New York City A woman walked down the sidewalk, carrying a grocery bag. A street light illuminated her slim build and blond hair peeking out from below a hat pulled low over her ears as she walked under it before turning to climb the stairs of a brownstone. She walked quickly down the hall and pulled a key from her pants pocket. Using the key, she entered the dilapidated, filthy apartment apartment. Closing the door behind her, she stopped just inside. "She was out in the field on a case," Marita Covarrubias said as she pulled her hat off and tossed it aside. She waited, looking in front of her with flashing eyes. "Where?" Krycek asked, though he didn't seem too terribly interested. He closed the book he was reading and placed it on top of a mound of papers, books, and food wrappers on the table in front of the couch where he sat. "Florida. Those Lone Gunmen wackos were down there, too." "Figures," Krycek grumbled as he rose from the couch and took the grocery bag from Marita. "The three godfathers are ever-watchful." "So why would she go to Florida?" Marita asked, worried. "Does she have a lead?" "On Mulder?" Krycek spat as he walked to the kitchen. He shook his head and answered flatly, "No. He's NOT in Florida." Marita followed him into the kitchen, which is just as filthy as the rest of the place. "You said he'd never be back. So where is he?" Krycek flashed her a venomous look. "Somewhere far from here. And that's where he'll stay... for a while." Marita continued to frown. He walked up to her and brushed a kiss against her cheek. "Not to worry, Marita." "You said we'd be working with them." "I'm working on it." "With who?" Marita exploded. "You never leave this apartment! At least I'm out there, trying to make some of the old contacts. You're not doing a damn thing!" Krycek smiled, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he'd really like to slap her. "You think?" He slipped a paper into her hand. Marita looked at it suspiciously. "What's this?" Krycek didn't answer as he walked back to the couch and sat. She opened the paper and read it. "May 28, 2001." "What's this?" Marita asked louder after reading it. "It's our ticket to survival... and fortune." IV. Georgetown University Medical Center Scully flew through the doors of the emergency room. Her red hair appeared to be blazing and her body was tense as she walked. All eyes in the emergency room waiting area immediately focused on her as she moved swiftly to the desk. "Fox Mulder?" she asked loudly, a bit out of breath. The clerk at the desk looked up. "'Scuse me?" "Fox Mulder." Scully was perturbed by the clerk's bored expression. "I was called and told he had been brought here." The clerk nodded and chewed her gum as she turned to check some papers. A nurse walked up and began talking to the clerk about another patient. Scully's patience was extremely thin. "Excuse me?" Neither the clerk nor the nurse seemed to notice. "HEY!" This got everyone's attention. "Fox Mulder? Where is he?" she asked, but not as loudly this time. Though clearly not happy with Scully, the nurse answered. "He was moved to a room." Scully moved around the desk closer to the nurse. "What room?" "Umm...just a minute..." the nurse stalled as she looked at a list. Scully watched the nurse intently, her impatience growing with each passing second. Finally, the nurse looked up and answered, "Room 5652." Scully hurried off without a word of thanks, her mind completely focused on finding Mulder. She rushed as fast as she could through the hallway and spotted the elevator, just as the doors were sliding closed. She was a bit frustrated that she couldn't go faster, but the extra weight made it extremely difficult to run. "STOP!" she yelled as she tried to leap toward the elevator. "HOLD, PLEASE!" A man inside the elevator shoved his hand out to stop the doors. Scully charged into the elevator, forcing people to move aside to make room for her. "Thanks," she replied, trying hard to catch her breath. "Welcome," the man responded. "But, perhaps you shouldn't be running around like that in your condition, ma'am." Scully gave the man a look that would make a statue cringe. The man swallowed hard before summoning the courage to speak to her again. "Floor?" "Five," Scully answered forcefully, dropping her gaze from the man. The man punched the button and the elevator fell silent as it began its ascent. One man got off at the second floor; three people at the third floor. The man who had spoken to Scully exited at the fourth floor. Scully hurried off the elevator when the doors opened on the fifth floor. She checked the signs and followed them towards room 5652. As she rounded a corner, she saw the white board at the nurses' desk. Neither the nurse nor the clerk sitting at the desk noticed her. Carefully scanning the board, she spotted Mulder's name next to the number 5652. This prompted her to move even faster. She walked quickly past the rooms: 5646, 5648, 5650... Finally she spotted room 5652 and the name "Mulder, F." written on the sign in center of it. She stared at the sign for a couple seconds before reaching for the door handle. Slowly she began to push the handle. "Can I help you?" Scully whirled around to see a middle-aged woman in rose-colored scrubs approaching. "I'm here to see Fox Mulder," she informed the woman. "Are you Scully?" Scully nodded her head slowly, unsure of how the nurse knew her name. "Yes." The nurse nodded her affirmation. "He's been asking for you. Go on in. I'll call Dr. Allenbach to let him know you're here." Scully nodded again, but she was not really listening. Her mind was still focusing on the nurse's words: "He's been asking for you." A sigh of relief escaped from her lips and a smile peaked at the corners of her mouth: He's conscious! Her hand had not left the door handle and she pushed harder, opening the door just far enough to allow her to pass through. She walked into the room, past the bathroom, to a curtain. Quickly, she pulled the curtain aside and walked over to the bed. Mulder was lying in the bed, his eyes closed. He was asleep, his breathing regular and even. She walked to his bedside, watching him every step of the way. Her eyes skimmed over his face. She saw no obvious signs of illness or injury. He had some dark circles under his eyes, but no bruises or cuts. Her eyes slid down to see his neck and her eyes smiled when she saw a glint of gold peeking at the edge of his hospital gown. She checked out the equipment near his bed. He had an IV going into his left arm and she noted that he was on a heart monitor. For a moment, she was afraid to touch him; afraid he would disappear just as he always did in her dreams, but the need to touch him overcame her fear and she reached out to touch his face. Just as she reached toward him, his eyes jerked open and he looked at her. A wide smile washed over his face. A matching smile broke out on Scully's face as they made eye contact. She bent over and brushed his hair off his forehead. Mulder blinked slowly, enjoying this. He then reached for her hand. Tears welled in Scully's eyes and began to fall. "Hey, Scully. Long time no see." She smiled through her tears. He reached over and wiped the tears from her cheek. "Talk to me, Scully." His voice was low. "Did you miss me?" His eyes gleamed. Scully laughed mildly as she took his hand in hers. "Mulder..." It was all she could get out. She had thought of this moment for months, ever since he'd disappeared. She'd practiced in her mind what she'd say, but now all of that was forgotten. Mulder smiled at the sound of her voice. They stayed like this for a while: smiling, crying, eyes never leaving each other. After several minutes passed, the door opened and Dr. Allenbach interrupted, "Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Mulder." He shifted his attention to Scully. "Ms. Scully, may we talk?" Scully turned to the door, breaking eye contact with Mulder, which caused her smile to fade. Dr. Allenbach motioned her out to the hall. Scully turned back to Mulder. "I'll be right back." She turned and her hand began to slip from Mulder's as she started walking to the door. He tightened his grasp on her hand, prompting her to stop and turn back around. "Hurry. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Scully agreed through a smile. She slipped her hand from his, and her gaze from him as she headed out of the room. "Ms. Scully, I understand Mr. Mulder has been missing for several months?" "Yes. Five months. How did he get here?" Allenbach shifted his stance nervously. "We aren't quite sure. He seemed to just appear in one of our emergency room bays. They thought it was empty but when they went to put another patient in there, he was there- unconscious." Scully looked away, an expression of frustration filling her face. She turned back to the doctor. "He was unconscious?" "Yes, but he responded well to treatment and regained consciousness almost immediately." "How long ago was that?" Allenbach glanced at his watch. "About three hours ago. It was about 7:00 when they found him in the ER." "What's his condition now?" "He's suffering from dehydration and his red blood cell count is up." "And lymphocyte count and plasma volume are down? Is there evidence glucocorticoids were released?" Scully asked quickly. Allenbach nodded, a puzzled expression on his face. "Yes, lymphocytes are depressed. And the plasma volume is down. That's why we're giving him a couple pints of blood. I'm not sure about the glucocorticoids, but we've done blood tests and we're waiting for the lab. You're a physician?" "A forensic pathologist," Scully answered. "May I see his chart?" "Yes." She and Allenbach walked down to the nurses' desk and he pulled the chart for her. After perusing the chart, Scully observed, "Exposure to weightlessness..." "Pardon?" "Would you also do some bone density scans? He may have lost some." "Why...?" Allenbach was clearly confused. Scully was completely engrossed in thought. "And, he'll need an ECG to make sure his heart isn't enlarged. Perhaps a CAT scan...or an MRI..." "Dr. Scully?" "...I'd also like some x-rays of the cranium, particularly the nasal and brain stem areas." "Dr. Scully?" Allenbach spoke louder, gaining her attention. "Weightlessness? Where would he be exposed to weightlessness?" Scully didn't really answer the question. "After what he's been through, we'll need all these tests to get a clearer picture." She met Allenbach's gaze. "How is he doing now? What's his prognosis?" "Well, it's hard to say since we don't know what caused this or how he got here. But, he's responding very well so far. He was quite upset until we told him you were coming. Then he calmed down." Scully smiled and glanced back toward the room door. Allenbach took his cue. "I'll get back with you after the test results are in. If you need anything, contact the nurse." Scully nodded and headed back to Mulder's room before Allenbach walked away. She opened the door, expecting to find Mulder napping again but instead found his bed surrounded by Byers, Frohike, and Langly. They were laughing and having a good time catching up. "Guys," Scully said as she walked up, "what are you doing here?" "Oh, sorry, Scully," Frohike answered. "We just had to see Mulder for ourselves." "Yeah, had to make sure he wasn't a pod person or something," Langly chided. "Yes, I am a pod person come to make love to all your women and steal your children," Mulder joked. Mulder was the only one laughing as the Gunmen looked at Scully. "So," Byers asked nervously, "You two have talked?" Scully shook her head. "Not really," Mulder answered. "My doc stole her away before we had a chance to." All three Gunmen exchanged nervous glances. "Uh," Frohike started clumsily, "we better head out and... and give you two a chance to catch up on everything." "Yeah, we'll see ya soon, dude," Langly offered as he hustled to the door right behind Frohike. "Feel better soon, Mulder," Byers called over his shoulder as he, too, hurried to the door. Mulder looked quizzically at the door as it closed behind the guys. "Well, they sure can move quickly when they want to. Wonder what that was all about?" He looked back at Scully, who was moving closer to his bedside. "Well, it gives us a chance to be alone again. So, Scully..." Scully smiled. She couldn't seem to stop smiling. She reached out for his hand. As she grasped it, her eyes widened: the baby kicked her at just that moment. "Scully? What's wrong?" He was suddenly concerned, noting her expression. She struggled to regain her composure. "Hmm?" "You looked... shocked... or in pain. You okay?" Considering her options, she decided the right opportunity had presented itself. She leaned against the bed rail. "Mulder, we have to talk. There have been some...," she searched for the right words, "big changes." "What? Did they close the X-Files again?" he asked sarcastically. This confused Scully for a second. "No...no." Mulder was a bit elated. "Really?" "Yes. But, Mulder, I'm talking about... something else." He struggled to read her expression. "O-kay," he prompted. Scully attempted to start, "After you disappeared... I was having all those dizzy spells. In fact, I fainted while I was working some of the data with the guys right after you and Skinner left." Fearing the worst, Mulder interrupted her, "Jesus, Scully, it's not..." Scully finished his question, "Cancer? No. No. It's something else." She stressed the 'something else.' Clearly relieved, he leaned back against the pillow and gazed up at her. She continued her attempt to bring him up to speed. "The doctor was concerned so he checked me into the hospital for some tests. In fact, I was there when Skinner came to tell me about you." At that moment, a knock on the door disrupted them, again. Skinner stuck his head through the door opening. Mulder smiled and called robustly, "Speak of the devil and he appears!" Skinner walked into the room and over to the foot of the bed. "Welcome back, Agent Mulder. I'm glad to see you looking so well. After seeing you... that ship..." Skinner couldn't continue he was so uncomfortable. Mulder noted Skinner's discomfort. "It wasn't your fault, sir. I chose to go out there. I knew the risks. I thought it was Scully who was at risk." He looked at Scully. "But I was wrong." He shrugged. "Things happen." Skinner nodded and looked at Scully. "Yes they do." Mulder looked back at Scully, realizing she hadn't let go of his hand, despite Skinner's presence. "But it's damn good to be back." Skinner cleared his throat. "I want you to know that I'm going to help you both with this in any way I can." He focused on Mulder. "We have managed to keep this as private as possible. But, of course, the FBI had to be informed at some point." He looked at Scully, who was suddenly looking at him sharply. "Scully's been doing well. I've tried to encourage her to cut back on her workload. I know it's going to be hard..." He trailed off as he noted Mulder's confused expression and Scully's look of consternation. "You two have talked?" "Everyone seems to keep asking us that. No, not really. Scully was just telling me something when you came in." Mulder looked at Scully expectantly. Before Scully could speak Skinner focused on her. "Scully, can I have a word?" He motioned with his head to the hall. She nodded. Skinner returned his attention to Mulder, who was looking quite perplexed. "Get some rest, Mulder." Scully squeezed Mulder's hand before she released it once again. Mulder's confused expression faded as he watched her walk away. He called to her as she opened the door, "Next time, I'M going out into the hall. Maybe we can talk out there." She smiled but didn't turn around as she exited the room once again. As soon as the door was closed, Skinner started in. "I take it you haven't told him?" "I haven't had the chance." She answered in a low voice, a bit defensive. "People keep barging in." This subdued him. "Sorry." They watched an elderly couple walk by before he continued. "But you have to tell him." "I'm going to, as soon as I go back in there." He nodded. And Scully turned to the door. "If you need anything, call me." Scully turned back to him and nodded. Entering the room again, Scully looked at Mulder, who was now sitting up in the bed. His attention turned to her as soon as she entered and his eyes followed her as she walked to the bed. As soon as she reached his bed, she started to tell him. "I have something very important to tell you." He smiled and reached for her over the bed rail. He touched her side and brushed his fingers up and down gently. "I wish they'd put these rails down so you can get in here with me." She admonished him mildly, "Mulder! We need to talk..." She stopped short as Mulder's hand began exploring her side. His hand moved down her side and toward the middle of her abdomen, his eyes told her of his grand amusement with this exploration. All of a sudden, his hand stopped. His eyes widened and his gaze fell from her eyes to her abdomen. He placed both his hands there and moved his fingers slowly around, exploring the area thoroughly. Scully watched this intently, enjoying his touch, but a bit worried about his imminent discovery. She exhaled suddenly, realizing she'd forgotten to breathe. As she inhaled slowly, Mulder's hands traveled up her rib cage. His hands continued to explore, his eyes following his hands. When his hands stopped just before reaching her breasts, his eyes continued rising until they met Scully's. He looked into her eyes. And he knew. He raised his body slowly and laboriously from the bed, wincing a bit against the pain. His arms slid around her abdomen and he placed his head against her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned against him. Her eyes closed. They remained like this for a while before his shoulders shifted quickly and he pulled back a bit. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. Pulling his arm from around her back, he pointed at her abdomen. "He moved." His voice was low and incredulous. She smiled and nodded. "Yes. He did." Mulder smiled widely and looked back at Scully's swollen belly. He leaned in and gently kissed her. 11:08PM The dark green sedan was parked near the entrance to the hospital. A dark-haired woman lifted the camera as she saw Scully walk out the front door. She started taking pictures as Scully walked down the entryway. An older model Volkswagen van pulled up to the curb. Scully talked to the driver. After a few seconds, the van door slid open and Frohike extended a hand to Scully. She climbed inside, the door slid closed, and the van headed out of the parking lot. The woman lowered the camera and started her car. New York City Krycek was lying in bed with the sheets wrapped around his waist. His bare chest rose and fell as he slept. Marita walked in and glanced over his slumbering form. She didn't smile as she moved to the bed and sat down. She leaned against the wall and continued to study Krycek. He rolled over and his eyes fluttered open as he focused on her. He looked at her for a couple seconds before grabbing her arms and pulling her down to him. She made noises of protest, but didn't get out of the bed. After a lingering, breathless kiss, she pulled back. "Since when have you not been ready to jump my bones?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "What's bumming you out?" Marita didn't answer. She just sat there with a solemn expression on her face. "What?" He was a bit exasperated. She extracted herself from his arms and shifted to a sitting position before finally answering. "He's back." His eyes narrowed. "Who?" he inquired, his voice betraying that he knew exactly to whom she was referring. "Mulder." He scooted up to sit next to Marita. His gaze dropped from hers as he processed this information. He was silent for a while. During his silence, Marita looked away, lost in her own thoughts. "No..no... NO!" Krycek punctuated his yells by banging his fist against the wall. This startled Marita and she looked at him, her facial muscles tensing. "He was taken by them. You don't come back from being taken by them!" "Don't yell at me! He IS back. In the hospital, having an amazing recovery, from what I understand," Marita retorted, before adding bitterly, "And, of course, Scully is at his side." Krycek didn't speak. He was clearly seething, too mad to even respond. She continued, fueling his anger. "They're the perfect little family, aren't they?" In a singsong voice she mocked, "Mulder, Scully, and baby makes three." Hearing that, Krycek snapped. He leaped out of the bed and began pacing the room in his briefs. She watched him, enjoying this immensely. She continued the annoying, singsong tone, "What will they name the baby? Samantha? Bill? Melissa?" She moved up to sit on the edge of the bed and leaned toward Krycek. "We know it sure as hell won't be Alex." With that, Krycek snatched his pants off the floor and began dressing. This got her attention. "What are you going to do?" His answer was a bit muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Get some answers." Mulder was lying on a bed. A bright light passed over him, moving back and forth over his sheet-covered form. Suddenly, his body jerked and he cried out in pain. As his shrieks continued, the Alien Bounty Hunter appeared standing over him. He watched as Mulder writhed in anguish. The light faded and Mulder's screams subsided. His eyes opened and he looked up at the Bounty Hunter. "Why are you doing this?" His voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable. "Because we can," the Bounty Hunter replied. A high-pitch tone sounded and Mulder's body shuddered in pain again. As the tone grew louder and louder, Mulder's motions became more violent. His eyes widened with fear and he opened his mouth to yell, but nothing came out. Scully's eyes snapped open at that moment and it took her a few seconds to realize she'd been having a nightmare. She sat up. Her pajamas were wet with sweat and her heart was pounding in her chest. She looked at the clock: 5:33. She closed her eyes and knew what subject she and Mulder were going to have to discuss today. Next day "Scully, they're going to want answers." Scully looked Skinner in the eye. Although she had a calm expression on her face, a fire blazed in her eyes. "Sir, I don't have any answers. I'm not sure if we'll ever have any answers." Skinner continued, determined for her to see the serious of all this. "They will be calling a hearing in the next few days and they will expect answers about Mulder's disappearance, his condition,..." He hesitated a moment, before he continued, "... your condition, and, of course, your trip to Florida last week without permission." Scully shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "They will have to get answers or they will shut the X-Files down." Skinner looked at her, concern all over his face. "Have you contacted Detective Woodard with the Bay County Sheriff's office?" "Yes. And he stated you made a contribution to the investigation. Your explanation actually seemed the most plausible. He added that he was probably the most surprised of all by that. And that it will all be in their official report. But, none of that negates the fact that you went without permission," he reminded her. "They could use that against you and close everything down." Scully closed her eyes at the suggestion. Mulder returned only to have the X-Files shut down before he could go back to work. The thought was too hard to bear. Then, an equally distasteful thought occurred to her: What if she had been led to that case to give them a reason to shut down the X-Files? "Scully." Skinner's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Have you asked Mulder about..." he struggled with the words for a few moments, "his experience?" Scully didn't answer. Instead, she pursed her lips and studied her hands. She glanced at her watch and looked up at Skinner. "Sir, I need to get back to the hospital. Mulder's having some more tests run today." Skinner studied her and exhaled sharply before dismissing her. "I'll let you know when the hearing is scheduled." Scully stood and headed out of the office, furious with herself. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Frohike? Yeah...I need to know something. Where did you get the information for that case last week?... Frohike hesitated before answering. "A friend." She stopped at the elevator and pushed the button to summon it. She frowned at his reticence, "Frohike. I need to know. I think I may have been led to that case to set things up for them to close the X-Files office. I have to know." Frohike's eyes widened. "Ummm.... he's a subscriber. He's helped us out before. Weird thing is, we tried to contact him to get more info and he never got back to us..." He trailed off. Scully frowned even more. "Try to find him and find out if he did send it." Frohike nodded. "Sure... We'll get on it and let you know." 4:46PM "I feel like I've been folded, spindled, and mutilated," Mulder complained as he was wheeled back into the room after yet another round of tests, his fourth time today. Scully just smiled as the transportation worker helped Mulder into the bed. He staggered a little when he got up from the wheelchair and grabbed the side of the bed for support. The worker reached to help him. "Whoa!" he called as he fell against the bed. "Mulder," Scully rushed to help him. "S'okay," he assured both of them. "Just that dizziness you told me would happen." He smiled at Scully and eased back into the bed. As Mulder straightened his sheets, the worker left, nodding at Scully on his way out. "I'm a glow-in-the-dark pincushion now." "All in the name of trying to figure out what happened to you," Scully reminded him. He nodded. "And you. Time for your tests now." Scully flashed him a quizzical look. "What?" "I want you to take some tests. We need to find out what happened to you." "Mulder, I think we know WHAT happened to me." She looked at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. Mulder smiled and conceded, "Well, we know WHAT happened, but I want to know what's going on with him in there. Is he healthy? Is he developing... normally? Is he a he? And I want to know how this is all affecting you... physically?" "You also want to know why." She looked at him, awaiting his response. Mulder looked at her. "That would be good to know, but I'm not sure we'll ever know why." "You really think I haven't taken every test in the book by now?" "Probably," Mulder agreed. "But, why not take them again?" Scully studied him for a few moments. "I guess we could do a comparison now, first trimester versus third." "Good," Mulder began, "How about ultrasound, PCR..." "Amniocentesis, etcetera, etcetera... I know the drill." Mulder smiled agreeably and studied her. "Come here." He reached out for her. She scooted her chair closer and took his hand. "No," he disagreed. "Here!" He turned the sheet down and ran his hand over the bed. Scully flashed him a shocked look that clearly said she would not. "Come here!" he repeated the demand. Scully ignored his demand. "Mulder, we need to talk." He looked at her. "You want to know what happened to me." "We have talked about everything but what you remember about being gone." His smile faded as he turned serious. "Sit down, Scully." He moved over to the far side of the bed and sat up. Scully got up from the chair and lowered herself to the bed. She leaned back against his legs and looked at him to begin. "I remember being taken and I remember coming back. I don't remember a whole hell of a lot in between." "Tell me," she prodded. Mulder turned his gaze from her to the window. "I remember seeing everyone in the bright light. Billy, Teresa and her husband, and a lot of other people... I looked up and I knew..." He stopped for a few seconds. "I knew we were going. I knew I was going." He focused on Scully. "I really had no choice, Scully. There was no turning around. But..." "What?" Scully whispered. "I'm not sure if I would've turned around if I'd had a choice." He looked for her reaction. Scully's expression didn't change. "That doesn't bother you?" He was surprised she wasn't upset or angry or sad. "Why would it?" she asked matter-of-factly. "Mulder, I know you. Given a chance to fly in a flying saucer you're going to take the chance. No matter what. And, like you said, you didn't have a choice this time." Mulder smiled and stroked her chin with his finger. "What happened then?" His smile faded once again as he continued. "That Alien Bounty Hunter showed up..." Scully's eyes widened at this and fear played across her face. "Yeah, he went up with us. I remember seeing Skinner below as we lifted up from the ground." When he didn't continue, Scully asked, "What happened next?" Mulder winced a bit. "I don't remember much about the ship. I remember the stark whiteness inside the ship and then nothing. I woke up in a white room and..." He stopped. "They performed some tests on you, didn't they?" Mulder nodded. "I really don't remember a whole lot. There were bright lights and voices. Sometimes there was a loud sound that hurt my ears..." She could see he was struggling, trying not to tell her anything that would upset her. She reached for his hand and held it tightly. Remembering her nightmare, she closed her eyes to hold back the tears that were threatening. Mulder looked at Scully and picked up his explanation. "I do remember how I came back." This pulled Scully back and she opened her eyes. "I heard a lot of noise outside my room. There was screaming and loud thuds." He narrowed his eyes as if seeing it all right now. "Then, one of those faceless men appeared in my room. I tried to fight him off, but he held me down and shot me in the arm with something. It made me feel like I was across the room watching what was happening to me. He picked me up and carried me to a ship a lot like the one I'd gotten there on. I can't recall anything about the trip, but they brought me back. They brought me here." "Why would they..." "I don't know." His story finished, he sat back and grabbed Scully's other hand. Suddenly, he remembered something and grabbed at his neck with one hand. He maintained eye contact with Scully as he reached behind his neck and unhooked the clasp of Scully's cross necklace. He placed it on her and stretched his arms so he could clasp it around her neck. She reached up and fingered the cross as he fastened the chain. When he finished, he sat back and admired it. After several seconds, he pulled her down to his chest and she gave in to her tears. He tried to soothe her, but soon his own tears mixed with hers. V. Walter Skinner's office "Working late, Walter?" Skinner looked up, a startled expression on his face, and was most upset to see Alex Krycek standing in his office doorway. "You really should lock the door when that guard dog of an assistant of yours goes home. All kinds of riff-raff can get in." "What the hell do you want?" Skinner was standing now, his hands on his hips. "Not even an invitation to sit?" Krycek clicked his tongue as he moved to the chairs in front of Skinner's desk and sat. "Get out." Skinner was trying to maintain control of his anger. "Not so fast. I want some answers." "Go somewhere else," Skinner snapped. Krycek smiled. "No, YOU have the answers I need." "I'll be damned if..." "Careful what you wish for, Walter. Have you forgotten about those little critters doing the backstroke up your bloodstream?" Skinner visibly cringed, but quickly steeled himself. "So, do it! Kill me. But, I will not be giving you any more answers. They've been through enough." Krycek's eyes narrowed in contempt. "Of course, the perfect couple is back together. Hoorah! Let's have a ticker tape parade!" Krycek mocked bitterly. He leans forward. "How did he come back?" Skinner's eyes widened in amazement. "You mean you don't know?" Krycek squirmed in the seat a bit. "All it would take is a turn of the knob, one little switch..." Skinner's mouth twitched before he leaned forward, his hands on his desk. "Go ahead. This is where it stops." Krycek studied Skinner for a minute. Finally, he stood. "I'd think about it, Walter. Are you ready to give up your life for him?" Skinner's eyes narrowed into a cold, hate-filled stare. "I'll be seeing ya... soon," he warned as he slithered out the door. Georgetown Medical Center Scully tossed the remnants of their Chinese dinner in the garbage. She turned around to see Mulder smiling wickedly at her. "What?" "I like watching you move. Especially now. You are a beautiful pregnant woman." Scully started to respond, but was interrupted by Doctor Allenbach walking in. "So, Agent Mulder, how are you feeling?" "Feeling better all the time," Mulder answered, glancing sideways to Scully. "Good," Doctor Allenbach concurred, looking at the chart that he was carrying. "Doctor Scully requested numerous tests to get a clearer picture of your present health and try to determine what happened to you." "And I'm requesting the same for her," Mulder added. "Hmm...what?" Allenbach looked up from the chart and glanced back and forth from Mulder to Scully. "You don't know what happened to her?" He asked, a bit incredulous. "Never mind," Mulder laughed. Allenbach looked at Scully and she looked to Mulder, giving him a 'you're going to die when he leaves' look. Mulder didn't even flinch, enjoying this way too much. "Well," Allenbach got back on track, "she was correct about the glucocorticoids. They were elevated. But, we've been able to get your levels back on track. We're still waiting for some of the other results... the ECG.... the CAT scan... and some of the more complex blood tests. But, it does seem you were correct, Dr. Scully, he does show all the symptoms of prolonged exposure to weightlessness. I had to go pull research from NASA to confirm this." Scully nodded her head in agreement. "Now, what I want to know is how did this happen? How did he exhibit these symptoms? You're certainly not suggesting he was actually in space for the time he was missing?" Mulder looked at Scully, trying to divinate her thoughts. Scully stood a bit straighter. "I don't think we have enough evidence at this time to determine that he was or wasn't." Mulder smiled at the thoroughly scientific, rational response. And he waited for her follow-up. "But, we cannot deny that he did have those symptoms. Something caused his body to react in that manner. Therefore, the simplest answer is that he was weightless for a prolonged period of time. And the only place we currently know of where that is possible is in space." Allenbach looked as though his head hurt. Mulder smiled; he knew the feeling. Allenbach closed Mulder's chart and turned to leave. "I'll let you know when I get the results from the other tests. Should be sometime tomorrow. If all checks out, you should be able to go home." He didn't wait for them to answer, but Mulder called after him, "Thanks!" He turned back to Scully. "So, you believe I was up there?" He pointed up, a bit comically. Scully smiled at his hilarious gesture. "Yes," she answered seriously. Mulder's eyes widened. He got up from the chair, flinching slightly from the pain he felt whenever he moved, and walked over to Scully. "So," his eyes danced in amusement as he stopped just in front of her. Scully looked at him, unsure of what he was doing. "Any movement?" He looked down at her stomach. Scully smiled and giggled a bit. "He's been pretty quiet. He may have been asleep, but when you asked just now, he gave me a big kick." "Really?" "Right here." She reached for his hand and placed it on the exact spot. They stood there like that, Mulder leaning down with his hand on her, chuckling every now and then as the baby moved. Mulder looked up as Scully was still laughing at the baby's last movement. Suddenly he turned serious. "Think he's healthy?" Scully stopped laughing and looked at Mulder. "I hope so." Mulder stood up to his full height and removed his hand from her stomach. Placing his hand on her neck, he leaned down and kissed her. She responded, closing her eyes and enjoying the kiss. After they parted, Mulder looked at her and asked, "Can we talk about how this happened?" "Mulder, I thought we determined the how..." "Alright," he said with exasperation. "When?" "Well, there weren't that many opportunities..." "Scu-lly..." "Well, Mulder, the truth is it could've been ANY of those times. They were all so close together." Mulder considered this for a moment. "I'd say after we watched "Caddyshack." All was right with the world that night," he mused aloud. "That would be perfect." Scully laughed at this. "What?" he asked defensively. "Nothing," she deflected. "What?" he asked louder. "It's just..." she stopped laughing. "You're right. That would be perfect." His eyes narrowed and she could see the devilment there. But neither got the opportunity to explore that as the door flew open and the Lone Gunmen entered. "Look at you!" Frohike exclaimed. "Up and around." "Yeah, Mulder, you look all rested and healthy. Not at all like yourself," Langly quipped. "Nothing changes, does it Scully? These guys still are jerks." Frohike shook his hand and plopped a bag on the bed table. "Thought you'd need a supply." Mulder looked confused momentarily before Frohike pulled a package of sunflower seeds from the bag. "Oh, thanks!" "So," Byers started, looking from Scully to Mulder. "You two have talked..." "Yes," Scully answered. "Aren't you guys going to congratulate me?" Mulder asked. "Congrats, man," Langly offered. "It's great news, Mulder," Byers added, extending his hand to shake Mulder's. "I don't know..." Frohike comments dubiously. All eyes turned to him. "Do you deserve her?" he asked snidely. "Maybe I don't deserve him." Scully shocked everyone. "But, it's a done deal," she concluded. They all smiled in agreement. "Hey, shouldn't you be sitting or something?" Frohike asked Scully. Mulder looked sharply at her. "Yeah," he concurred as he moved back toward her. "Sit down and rest." He guided her to the chair. "You wanna put your feet up?" Scully let him lead her to sit in the chair, but she wouldn't abide any patronizing. "If I want to put my feet up, I will." Mulder nodded his understanding. He was still getting accustomed to his role as expectant father. "How are you feeling, Mulder?" Byers queried. Mulder got back in bed. He adjusted the bed so he was sitting up straighter and leaned back against the pillows. "Fine. I'm still a bit sore when I move. But the light-headedness and nausea have passed." "Do they know what caused it?" Mulder looked over at Scully, who was yawning. "Not exactly," he answered. "So when do you get to blow this place?" Byers asked. "Well, they've run all kinds of tests..." Scully struggled to follow the conversation, but fatigue was washing over her. "... The doctor says he might let me go tomorrow, if all my tests come out okay. They put me through all sorts of tests today. And, of course, Scully went through..." He looked back over at Scully and saw she was falling asleep. "... a lot today, too. Scully?" he called to wake her up. The Gunmen looked over at her, too. "Looks like today wore her out," Langly observed. "Scul-ly," Mulder called again. Scully opened her eyes. "Come on," Frohike offered. "We'll take you home." Scully yawned again and stretched. "Why don't you go with the guys and I'll see you in the morning?" Mulder recommended. "No," Scully deflected. "You're exhausted. Let the guys take you home." He saw she still wanted to protest. "I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel. Besides, you've got a big day tomorrow finishing your tests." Realizing she was too tired to argue with him, she nodded and stood up. She walked over to Mulder, leaned over, and gave him a quick kiss, shocking everyone else in the room, especially Mulder. "See you tomorrow," she whispered. She stood up and turned to the guys. "Let's go," she instructed as she headed to the door. The guys shook off their shock. "Yeah, let's go," Frohike agreed as turned to follow. "Night, Mulder," Byers and Langly called as they headed after him. Mulder sat back against the pillows, watching them all leave. A wide smile spread across his face and he looked out the window. He mused about his future, and for the first time in a long time, he could smile at the opportunities and the promise of good things to come. Once in the hallway, Scully asked, "What did you find out about your friend the subscriber?" She continued down the hallway at a pretty fast clip, forcing the guys to keep up with her. They didn't answer her as they rushed to follow her. Their silence forced her to stop and turn around. "What?" she prompted. As they stopped short, they exchanged looks of discomfort. Finally, Langly answered, "Ben Gilligan died of a heart attack 3 weeks ago." His words hit Scully like a ton of bricks. For a second, it looked as though she was going to drop to her knees. They each took a step forward, ready to catch her, but she quickly recovered. Without another word, she turned back around and started down the hallway again. However, her pace was slower as her thoughts raced. 8:35PM Marita walked down the hall. She was wearing light blue scrubs and wire-rimmed glasses, and had her brown haired wig pulled back in a ponytail. She carried a plastic box containing jars and vials filled with blood and other fluids. She looked very much like a lab tech. She was very aware of everything and everyone she passed. As she approached the nurses' desk, she could see that no one was there. She smiled and walked quickly to the desk, found Mulder's chart, and pulled a digital camera from her pocket. She hurriedly began taking pictures of the pages. As she snapped the third picture, she heard movement behind her and slipped the camera back into her pocket. The clerk walked out from the office behind the desk. "Oh, sorry, didn't know you were here," she said as she spotted Marita. "Running a little late, aren't ya?" she asked. "Sorry," Marita answered. "What do you have for me?" "Hold on," she instructed as she glanced down the hallway toward the rooms. "Carrie's collecting one more blood sample from Mr. Mulder." She shook her head. "Lucky him! That poor guy's had every test known to doctors done on him today." "Well, here's one more," Marita said as she turned away from the clerk and looked down the hall for the nurse. "Did you hear they want to change our benefits?" the clerk tried to make conversation. "Really?" Marita tried to appear interested. "Yeah," the clerk continued as she sat back at the desk. "They want to change our 401(k). I'm not too happy 'bout it, but my husband says there's not a whole lot we can do..." Marita was not really listening as she waited expectantly, and anxiously, for the nurse to return. Finally, a door opened and the nurse came out into the hallway. She walked towards desk. When she spotted Marita she called, "Perfect timing. This is the last one." Marita nodded. "Let me just record it on his chart," the nurse told her. She walked over to the desk and started to pull his chart when she realized it was already out on the desk. "Pam? Were you working on the Mulder chart?" The clerk looked over at her. "No...you must've left it out. Or maybe B.J. did." The nurse shook her head and opened the chart. "Must be." She wrote something and then turned to Marita. "Here ya go." She held the vial filled with Mulder's blood out. For a second, Marita hesitated, not quite believing her luck. Then, she reached for the vial and turned to leave. "Wait!" the clerk called. Marita turned back, her eyes widening. "Don't forget these, too." She handed her two more blood vials and a plastic urine container. "The lab guys need something to keep them up late." She smiled at Marita. "I'm sure they're looking forward to these," Marita replied as she took the vials, trying to hide her revulsion. She carefully placed the containers in the plastic box. "Oh," the clerk called her back, "here's the paperwork for those." Marita took those, too, and smiled at the clerk. "Night." "Night," the clerk called as Marita walked away. A few minutes later, Marita walked off the elevator in the basement. She turned left and walked a short way before entering a door marked "Lab." Then, she went to the desk and set the container down. The clerk looked up. "Fifth floor?" he asked. Marita nodded. "We need you to go to seven now," he instructed as he began going through the contents of the box. He handed her another plastic box similar to the one she had just handed him. She took the box and watched him as he began to process the contents of the first one. "Will you be running those through the tests now?" The man didn't look up. "Yeah." Marita continued studying him as he stood and moved to take it to the techs. "I bet it takes a long time to do all those," she fished. After placing the container on the counter near a busy technician, he turned on heel and looked sharply at her. "Don't you have samples to collect?" he asked, clearly losing patience with her. Marita pursed her lips in frustration as she turned to leave. "Seventh floor," the man called after her. 1:31AM In a corner of a dingy bar, a group of rowdy teenagers screamed at each other above the din of the techno music. As a new song began, the group headed to the dance floor like a flock of sheep being herded by a border collie. As they passed, Krycek looked up from his beer and gave them a look of disgust. He hated this music, he hated the bright, flashing lights, but, most of all he hated the teenagers. But they gave him what he needed tonight: an obscure place in which to meet someone he'd been trying to meet for a very long time. He took another swig of beer as a waitress dressed in an extremely short peasant dress stopped at his table. "'Nother beer for ya?" He shook his head and said nothing as he took another drink. The waitress walked away, leaving him alone. "You should not drink on the job," a voice with a heavy German accent said behind him. Krycek turned and saw the man he'd been waiting for, the man he'd love to kill: Strughold. "I'm my own boss, now," he corrected. Strughold acted as though he didn't hear Krycek and took a seat opposite him. "What is it?" Krycek smiled. "You must know or you wouldn't have gotten on that plane from Tunisia, old man." "Is it Spender?" Krycek laughed and practically spit out the sip of beer he'd just taken. "I sent that son of a bitch to hell a long time ago." "I wouldn't underestimate him. The man has a tendency to come back from hell," Strughold advised dryly. Krycek's smile faded. "So, what is it you have that is so important?" "Actually," Krycek began, "there are two reasons." "Two?" Before Krycek could answer, the waitress approached again. "Can I get you something?" she asked as she looked expectantly at Strughold. He shook her off without even looking at her. She turned to leave when Krycek grabbed her arm. "I'll have that other beer now." After she left, Strughold prompted in a hoarse whisper. "What is it?" Krycek smiled. "In a hurry?" He now had a "cat-that-ate-the-canary" look. "Mulder's back." Strughold's eyes widened, then promptly narrowed, showing his displeasure with this news. "That man is a cat," he observed bitterly. "Maybe, but he sure as hell has more than nine lives," Krycek answered. "When, where, how, why?" Strughold fired. "Tell me he's in a deep coma." Krycek shook his head, enjoying Strughold's anger. "No. In fact, I think right about now he's holding Scully's hand and looking at pictures of their unborn child." Strughold's anger reached a boiling point. "How did he get back? Why?" Krycek shrugged. "My source tells me the rebels took him and brought him back. We can only guess why..." Strughold studied Krycek sourly for several long minutes. The waitress returned with his beer and, sensing the tension, she set it down and left without a word. "He cannot stop it. One man cannot stop the future. The timetable is set. It will happen. We have worked too long and too hard for anything to stop it now." "And lost too many along the way," Krycek added. Strughold looked at him, trying to gauge Krycek's intentions. "Yes, the timetable... it's May 28th, isn't it?" Strughold's eyes widened at this. He didn't respond. "You know, by all rights, I should want you dead," Krycek continued. "After all the things your men did to me. You hung me out to dry so many times." "Yet, you keep coming back to us," Strughold reminded. Krycek nodded. "Guess I really am a sadomasochist at heart." He finished his first beer and set the bottle to the side. The music grew louder and the lights brightened to a blinding level. "This really is a terrible place," Strughold remarked. "You said there were two reasons you contacted me." Krycek picked up the fresh beer and drank. He slowly set it back on the table and looked Strughold in the eye. "Cassandra Spender." Strughold frowned, but his attention was diverted as the group of teenagers returned from the dance floor. Georgetown Medical Center "Fox!" Maggie Scully called cheerfully as she entered the room. Mulder turned away from the TV and smiled widely when he saw her walking into the room. "Hi, Mrs. Scully," he replied heartily. Maggie walked over to him and gave him a warm hug. Before she let go, she kissed him on the forehead. "You're looking well," she observed as she stepped back. "I'm feeling well." He reached for Scully. Maggie moved to the foot of his bed and Scully took his hand. She fell clumsily against the bed and his chest when he pulled her in for a kiss. "Oh, Scully, you okay?" He asked nervously, startled at her awkwardness. Scully pushed herself up, laughing. "I'm fine. Just not as stable on my feet these days." She looked down at him, telling him with her eyes not to do that again. He sat up and kissed her, shocking her a bit. Her eyes flashed to a "my mother's here" look. Mulder smiled, released her hand, and sat back on the bed. "You get a little front-heavy during the last trimester," Maggie commented. Mulder swung his legs around so that he could sit up on the side of the bed. Scully moved to sit in the chair nearest him and Maggie took the chair under the TV. "Mom brought me this morning since I left my car here last night," Scully remarked. He nodded and an uneasy silence fell over the room. "Has Doctor Allenbach been by, yet?" Scully broke the quiet. Mulder shook his head. "Not yet." The tense silence returned. Mulder was studying Scully. Scully was studying her feet. And Maggie was studying them both. "Fox." Mulder turned to look at Maggie, as did Scully. "It's okay. I am old-fashioned, but I understand. Don't be uncomfortable. I'm very happy for Dana," she returned her daughter's look, "...and for you. For you both." In one statement, Maggie eliminated the tension. "Thank you," Mulder responded appreciatively. "I'm tickled that I'm going to be a grandmother, again. And I am so glad you're back. Dana was..." Scully's eyes widened as she continued to look at her mother. "... so alone." Mulder nodded, getting her meaning. He looked at Scully, who was still focused on her mother. "I'm especially glad for Dana. She's already a wonderful mother." "Yes, she is," Mulder agreed. "She's helped me grow-up." Scully looked at Mulder and they all laughed mildly. "Oh," Scully exclaimed as she remembered something she'd forgotten to tell him. "Mom bought a wonderful cane rocking chair for the baby." Mulder smiled at Maggie. "Can't wait to see it." The door opened and Doctor Allenbach walked in. "Good morning," he called to them all. "Mr. Mulder, Doctor Scully..." He looked at Maggie, not recognizing her. "Um, Doctor Allenbach," Scully jumped in. "This is my mother, Maggie Scully." He extended his hand and Maggie took it. "Nice to meet you," he offered as they shook hands. When he released her hand, he turned to Mulder and Scully. "I've got the rest of your test results." "Well," Maggie interrupted. "I'm going to head on. Fox, I am very glad you're back, and I want you and Dana to come for dinner soon." She looked at Scully. "I'll call you." "Thanks, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said warmly. "Bye," Maggie called as she headed out the door. "Bye, Mom," Scully called before turning back to face Allenbach. "What were the test results?" she asked as the door closed. Doctor Allenbach looked back to her. "First, I have to tell you, we've had some..." he seemed to be searching for the right word, "odd things happen." "Odd things?" Mulder was cautiously curious. "Well," Allenbach cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Someone took the printout of your test results from the lab this morning before it could be brought upstairs. We printed out a second copy from the computer, but unfortunately we haven't yet been able to determine who took them. Had they hacked in to take it we would have had a better chance of finding them." Scully looked sick. Mulder looked at her, dreading what he had known since he'd gotten back, but had been afraid to acknowledge: they were not out of danger yet. It had been so much easier, and happier, to deny the danger and revel in the joy of being back and Scully's pregnancy. The baby... He pushed the thought from his mind, telling himself he'd talk with Scully about it later. They'd go over her test results with a fine-tooth comb. He returned his attention to Scully and realized just how much this news was disturbing her. She was looking at the wall behind Allenbach and Mulder could see the fear behind her composed facial expression. "So, Doctor Allenbach, were my test results good? When can I get out of here?" he attempted to divert their attention to something else. This snapped Scully's attention back to Allenbach. "The CAT scan showed your heart is slightly enlarged. According to my research, that should correct within the next few weeks. We can monitor that." He flipped to the next page of the chart. "You've been receiving blood and fluids to get your lymphocyte count up and your glucocorticoids back in line. Also, you were severely dehydrated. That's been corrected." "Bone density?" Scully inquired. Allenbach looked up from the chart and nodded. "Yes. That's down, too. And research tells me that your oseteoblasts will return to normal, creating healthy bone tissue." "So... I can go home tomorrow?" Allenbach closed the chart and looked at Mulder. "Well, Dr. Scully has a few more tests to finish tomorrow. And, her doctor called me and told me they need you for some of the tests." Mulder glanced over at Scully. "Probably need some blood..." Scully tried to explain. "I'm tapped out," Mulder quipped. "He told me I'd be testing most of the day tomorrow. They're going to do another ultrasound," she told him. "I want to be there for that," he said enthusiastically. "I think we can arrange for a wheelchair from transportation to take you downstairs," Allenbach interjected. "Then, let's plan on day after tomorrow for your check out." A huge smile filled Mulder's face. "Start packing my bag, Scully." Scully's lips turned up in a smile, but her eyes remained serious, as she looked at Mulder. "Doctor Scully," Allenbach got her attention. "Are you sticking with your space theory?" "Yes." Allenbach raised his eyebrows in doubt and left. Two days later The dark-haired woman raised the camera to her eye and began snapping pictures. This time the camera was focused on Mulder and Scully as they got out of her car. Scully opened the trunk and pulled his bag out, but Mulder immediately tried to take it from her. Scully wouldn't let go. The woman pulled the camera to the side so she could see the entire scene of Mulder and Scully fighting over his bag. Words were exchanged as the bag was pulled to and fro. All at once, the bag was stilled as Mulder reached for her and pulled her close to him. He leaned in and the woman pulled the camera back to her eye so she could see what he was doing. He was leaning close to her ear and then he kissed her cheek. When he pulled back, Scully shook her head but was smiling. She released the bag and grabbed the smaller plastic bag from the trunk before closing it. Turning toward the house, she stepped up onto the curb. Mulder followed, his bag in one hand and his other hand pressed on the small of her back. Then together they walked up the sidewalk and entered the apartment building. The woman lowered the camera and took a long drag on a cigarette, a look of disgust on her face. VI. 9:33PM Mulder carried two plates into the kitchen and set them on the counter next the sink. Scully, standing at the sink, grabbed them, rinsed them, and placed them in the dishwasher. He went back to the table and did the same with the glasses and silverware. Before Scully could take those, Mulder set them on the counter and grabbed her around the waist. He kissed her ear. "Thanks for putting the sunflower seeds on the salad. Never had 'em that way before." "Welcome," she said around a yawn. "Let me finish and we'll go relax." Mulder released her. "Let me help and it'll go faster." She shook her head. "Nope. You just got out of the hospital." "And you're seven months pregnant." Scully gave him a disapproving look prompting him to do as told, heading into the living room. A few minutes later, Scully joined him and caught him fingering a large manila envelope on the coffee table. "Mulder," she admonished. He turned towards her, startled, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Come on, Scully. We'll just look them over tonight and then really delve into them tomorrow," he practically begged. "Mulder, you'd be up all night with them. My test results will still be here in the morning. You need to rest tonight." She yawned widely as she sat down next to him. "In the morning," he said to the envelope as he let go of it and sat back. She leaned against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. They sat like that quietly for several minutes. "Hey, we haven't discussed names, yet," Mulder murmured. Scully didn't respond and Mulder realized from her regular breathing that she'd fallen asleep. He smiled and nudged her gently. "Scul-ly," he called softly. "Scul-ly." She slowly awakened and lifted her head. "Let's go to bed." She nodded and moved to stand. Mulder helped her and the two of them walked into her bedroom. Scully headed into the bathroom, and Mulder stripped down to his boxer briefs. He grabbed a pair of sweat pants from his bag on the floor near the window. He pulled them on just as Scully came out of the bathroom. She was wearing pajamas now and was a bit surprised to find bare-chested Mulder looking at her. He pulled an Oxford t-shirt over his head. "Next," Mulder called out as he moved toward her. She smiled and moved out of his way. "Put the seat down," she reminded him. Mulder smiled at this. "Always," he called over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. 'Mulder in my bedroom.... Mulder in my bed...' her mind raced, but suddenly fatigue washed over her again. She headed to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in. As she pulled the covers back up, the bathroom door opened and Mulder came out, shutting off the light. Then, he climbed into the bed and scooted over next to Scully. She turned her back to him and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Taking his hands into hers, she closed her eyes. He kissed her cheek gently and whispered, "Sweet dreams." He closed his eyes and they drifted off to sleep. 11:41PM A box was kicked off the pile of trash. The box read "Bennington Rocker" and had a picture of a rocking chair with a cane seat on it. Krycek gave the box another kick for good measure before walking around the corner of the building. He walked down the sidewalk a short way before turning around. He looked up at a building. It was Scully's apartment building in Georgetown. As he looked up at Scully's darkened apartment window, his expression was one of anger and sadness. "I'm afraid you won't be using that rocking chair," he said out loud to himself. 4:36AM Mulder's eyes opened and it took him a moment to remember where he was. His arms were still wrapped around Scully as she slept soundly. He stayed there for a while, enjoying the sound and feel of her sleeping in his arms. Then he remembered the envelope. He slowly pulled his arms away from her, and lingered for a moment, making sure she stayed asleep. Assured he hadn't awakened her, he climbed from the bed and tiptoed into the living room. 5:15PM Mulder had been pouring over the test results for nearly forty-five minutes, comparing the first trimester results to the latest ones. He lifted up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Picking his way through the medical jargon was giving him a headache. He got up and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As he walked back to the couch with his water, he glanced toward the bedroom to make sure Scully was still sleeping. When he sat back down on the couch, he picked up a small black-and-white picture. Rubbing his finger over the almost indistinguishable outline of a baby, he couldn't help but smile. After looking at the picture for a few minutes, he set it down on the table and picked up the next test results. He noted that it was the latest PCR results. He sorted through to find the first trimester results. Finding them, he studied the results, comparing them to the latest results. Something was wrong. He flipped the pages back and forth, trying to figure out what the problem was. He started grabbing other papers, scanning them for the desired information. Finally, frustration overtook him, he shoved all the papers aside, before plopping back against the couch. It was then that he realized the noise he'd made and he rushed to the bedroom doorway to see if he woke Scully. Luckily, she was still sleeping soundly and, for awhile, he just stood there watching her. She shifted in her sleep, moving to lie on her back. Mulder set his eyes on the swell of her stomach under the covers. His mouth went into a straight line and sadness appeared in his eyes. He quietly walked around the bed, grabbed his running shoes from the floor, and headed out of the room as stealthily as possible. 5:35AM Marita was lying asleep in bed when Krycek walked in. He studied her for a moment before moving over to the bed and climbing in next to her. He nuzzled her neck, causing her to moan a bit as she slowly woke up. His lips moved up, kissing her neck and throat on his way to her lips. When he finally reached her lips, she was fully awake and kissing him back. Suddenly she pulled away from him, startling him for a moment. However, it only broke his focus briefly, as he moved over and began to nibble at her ear. "Where have you been?" "Getting everything lined up," he whispered in her ear between nibbles. "What things?" She was trying very hard to stay focused and not enjoy what he was doing to her at the moment. "Things," he mumbled as he moved back down to her neck. This riled her anger and she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up to look him in the eye. "What things?" she asked again, forcefully. Krycek frowned when he realized she wasn't going to be in the mood for anything until he gave her some answers. So he decided to give them to her. He moved to her side and sat back against the wall. She slid up to sit next to him. "Strughold's interested in our information. I think we can get back in with him. They're desperate to have someone here in America. That black-lunged bastard was only out for himself." "He fell for the Cassandra line?" Krycek nodded. "So, when do we meet with him again?" "WE don't," he said with finality. Marita's jaw dropped and her eyes flashed with anger. "WE don't," she repeated. She looked at him and saw the determination on his face. Jumping out of the bed, she began dressing, pulling her jeans on under her nightgown. Krycek closed his eyes and shook his head. He had expected this. "Marita," he began as he opened his eyes and saw her pulling a t-shirt on over her bra. "I have to negotiate with Strughold, for now. We'll eventually let him know we're in this together, but for now it's better if I'm the only one who meets with him." "Why?" she asked as she sat back down on the bed to pull on her shoes. "I'm just your gopher? Or your bedtime plaything?" she asked bitterly. He leaned forward and spoke over her shoulder, near her ear. "You're certainly not a gopher. And, as far as the plaything goes," he smiled wickedly, "that's a two-way street." She whirled around. "Cut the crap, Alex." Krycek's smile faded and he sat back slightly. "Okay... but it's not crap. You are our ace-in-the-hole. He doesn't need to know that you're on the team until we have what we want. I need you to do the behind-the-scenes work. You have lots of contacts that we can use." Marita studied him as she listened. He reached forward and took her hand. "I need you, Marita." Marita disagreed. "No you don't." He looked at her, shocked. "You want me," she corrected. He smiled. "That, too. Come on, we're in this together. I need you to be patient about meeting with Strughold. When he sees you, he'll know what we're up to." "And we do need some surprise," Marita acknowledged. He leaned in and they kissed. When they parted, he was the first to speak. "Let's go back and check Mulder's test results." Marita's eyes widened as she remembered something she needed to tell him. "And I got Scully's test results." She looked quite pleased at this. "Oooo," he cooed, "you got good stuff." He pushed her back against the bed and kissed her deeper. "But, it can wait a few more minutes." Marita kissed him back and murmured between kisses. "I think it can." Scully was slowly waking. She rolled over and opened her eyes when she realized Mulder wasn't in the bed. She looked around the room, but there was no sign of him. "Mulder?" she called. No answer. Looking at the alarm clock, she saw that it was 5:55. Disappointed that he wasn't next to her, she got up and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she walked into the living room and spotted the envelope and its contents spread over the coffee table. "Mulder," she groaned, shaking her head before turning away. She decided he must have gone for bagels... or something. She'd try not to worry, yet. She walked to the kitchen, turned on the teakettle, grabbed a tea bag from a jar, and slipped it into a mug she grabbed from the rack. Then, she headed back into the living and waited for the water to boil. Letting out a sigh of frustration, she reached for the test results on the table. The first papers she picked up were the last ones Mulder was examining: the PCR report. Briefly perusing the top paper, she realized she'd seen this before. It was the test results from her first trimester and the conclusion at the bottom caused her to smile: "90% probability target is genetic parent." "Who the hell else would it be?" she retorted aloud. She set that paper down on the table and began reading the latest PCR report. Her smile quickly disappeared as she read the conclusion: "target is ruled out as genetic parent." Too shocked to move, her mind tried to process the information. As it sank in, her brow furrowed and she began scouring the other tests. She was so busy flipping through and scanning papers, that when the door opened she didn't even hear it. Mulder walked in and saw Scully in a flurry. He was sweaty and a bit flushed from his jogging. After watching her for a few moments, he moved around the couch. She still hadn't noticed his return, as she continued to scan a multi-page report. Mulder slid onto the couch next to her and after a few seconds, she lowered the papers to her lap and looked up at him. "Mulder." She studied him for a moment before asking, "Where were you?" Then she noted his clothing and sweaty appearance and became concerned. "You haven't been jogging?" "I'm okay, Scully. I just needed to get out for a little while. I didn't overdo it, I promise." He looked at the papers on the table and back at Scully, noting the ill expression on her face. "Guess you saw..." "Mulder, there has to be a mistake. A mix-up. See," she showed him the paper she'd just been reading. "This shows the baby has A negative blood type. But," she set that paper down and picked up another from the table, "this one from six months ago shows he has O negative blood. And, this really shows the mix-up." He watched her intently, focusing on every move and listening to every word. "The first trimester amniocentesis reveals I'm carrying a boy. But," she looked at Mulder's eyes, trying to read his thoughts, "the new test results state it's a girl." Mulder smiled at this. "It doesn't matter, Scully." She couldn't believe he said that. "Yes it does," she said a bit indignantly. He shook his head in dissension. "It doesn't matter." He recognized that she still didn't understand as she was still disagreeing. "It matters to me. The hospital screwed up." He placed his hand on her abdomen and this quieted her protests. "All that matters is that you're going to have a baby and that baby is healthy." She considered this, studying him, still trying hard to read his thoughts. "So," he stood, "how about some breakfast? I'm cooking." She grasped that he was not ready to talk about this turn of events and decided to allow him this, for a while. "Scrambled eggs and toast?" She looked sick. "I can't eat eggs. Ever since I got pregnant, they make me nauseous. Even looking at them..." She looked as though she might gag. "Okay," Mulder looked a bit sick just watching her, "toast and juice then." He turned and headed to the kitchen. "And tomatoes," Scully added as the teakettle began whistling loudly. "Tea?" he asked. She nodded. "Coming right up." She turned back to the papers, continuing to searching for answers. New York City "It's a boy," Marita read. Krycek nodded his head, but said nothing. They were engrossed in reading papers, which were scattered all over the kitchen table. "Shit!" Krycek slammed the paper he was reading down to the table. Marita looked up from her reading. "What?" Krycek stood and strode over to the window. "How lucky can that bastard be?" he asked bitterly. Marita grabbed the paper and read, "...95% probability that target is genetic parent..." "So, it is his baby," she concluded. "Duh!" he snapped back at her. Instantly angered, Marita retorted, "But it doesn't mean he's the one. It doesn't mean..." "The hell it doesn't," Krycek growled. "You saw Mulder's tests." He turned his back to her and gazed out the window. Marita returned her attention to the papers. He continued staring out the window, his thoughts clearly far away. "We're not ready for this," he said in a low voice. "Good toast, Mulder," Scully complimented as she lifted her juice glass. "Thank you. Maybe I can get a job at Denny's as chief toaster number one," he smirked. She nearly choked on her sip of juice, coughing to catch her breath. "What?" he asked through a laugh. "I just had a vision of you in one of those Denny's uniforms with a nametag reading 'Fox'. You'd hate it," she shared. She covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her giggle. "It would have to say 'Mulder,'" he agreed, still laughing. The phone rang, getting their attention. "I'll get it," Mulder said as she continued to laugh. "Hello," Mulder answered rather robustly, trying to stop laughing. "Agent Mulder?" Skinner's voice called through the phone. "I thought I'd find you at Scully's." "Yes, sir," Mulder replied, getting serious. Scully, too, stopped laughing as she realized it was Skinner. "How are you feeling?" "Better." "And Agent Scully?" "She's fine." Sensing that Skinner was stalling, Mulder prompted him, "What is it, sir?" Skinner cleared his throat. "A hearing has been scheduled. They want to hear what happened to you." "When?" Mulder asked. "Tomorrow at 10AM." Mulder nodded. "Okay, we'll be there." Skinner worked his jaw a moment before offering the other reason for the hearing. "Mulder, they are also considering your assignment with the FBI... and Scully's." Mulder's face tensed. "In light of the circumstances, they feel it best if you are not assigned to the same division." Skinner was clearly displeased with being the bearer of this news. Mulder was silent, studying Scully as she cleared the breakfast dishes from the table. "Mulder?" "Yes, sir," Mulder answered, turning away from Scully. "We'll be there at 10AM tomorrow." He hung up the phone and turned back to the kitchen. "Scully, get out of that sink," he chastised as he headed towards her. "What? You want the dishpan hands?" "No, but I don't want you to have them either." He took the plate from her hands and gently pushed her away from the sink with his hip. "That's why we have a dishwasher." He opened the dishwasher door and placed the plate on the bottom rack. Scully smiled and went to the other side of the dishwasher. He started handing her dishes after he rinsed them and she placed them on the racks. "So what did Skinner want?" Mulder was silent for a moment and his face turned serious. Scully waited for him to tell her the bad news. "There's a hearing tomorrow. They want to talk to me about what happened," he finally answered. She studied his profile as he rinsed a glass. "And they want to reassign us," she finished. "Mulder, there's something you need to know." He looked over at her. She continued to shift the dishes in the dishwasher as she talked to him. "I was on probation. I had to get A.D. Casey's permission for out-of-town trips, but there was a case in Florida last week. The guys brought it to my attention. I did as much as I could here, but I had to go down there to assist the sheriff's office. But..." she hesitated, "I think it may have been a setup. Someone sent me there hoping that..." She looked away from Mulder with sadness in her eyes. Mulder tilted his head and looked at her, trying to determine where she was going with this. Scully suddenly looked up at him. "Someone sent me that information hoping I'd bite, and I did. I'm sorry, Mulder. They may try to close the X-Files because of what I did." She shifted her weight, clearly uncomfortable talking about this. "I'm going to do everything I can to keep that from happening and I know that Skinner's trying, too." She looked away again. "It was only a matter of time," he assured her. Avoiding his eyes, she took the glass from him and turned back to the dishwasher. She became more flustered as she had to move glasses and bowls around on the top rack to make room for the rest of the cups. Mulder studied her, reading her thoughts. Finally closing the dishwasher, she still wouldn't look at him. "I need to run to the grocery store," she said as she glanced toward the refrigerator. "You said we're out of juice and milk. I'll go get dressed." Mulder watched her as she headed out of the kitchen toward the bedroom. He frowned, realizing sadness had returned. The real world was calling them back. Walking to the bedroom, he saw her pulling clothes from a drawer. He crossed over to her and embraced her around her shoulders. She stopped and closed her eyes, leaning back against him. "I think it's time to talk about that normal life," he said in her ear. Scully dropped the clothes and turned around, embracing him. "You're going to have to help me, Scully." She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He shook his head and looked at her. "I haven't had much practice at this normal stuff. Where do we start?" She smiled and released him, then walked to the bed and sat down. He quickly joined her and took her hand in his. She looked at their linked fingers and shrugged. "I'm not sure." "How do you define normal?" She looked at him, her eyes shining. "How do WE define normal?" she corrected. "Guess we'll have to make our own definition." He nodded. "I think it starts with you working at Quantico." She protested, "We're partners, Mulder." "Oh, don't think you're getting away from me that easily. I'll still be calling on you and begging for you to pick my theories apart. That will never change. But," he placed his hand on her abdomen, "this changes things." Scully's gaze shifted from his face to his hand on her. "We've got to keep you safe. And the safest place is at Quantico. It's a military base, protected." Scully shook her head. "I've been watching, Mulder. No one's followed me and no one's tried anything." He looked down. "What?" "I didn't want to upset you..." Scully took his chin in her hand and gently turned his face back toward her. "What?" she repeated. He grimaced before replying. "Your doctor's office called while you were out getting my prescriptions filled yesterday." "And..." "Someone stole copies of your tests from their office." Fear filled her eyes. "When?" Mulder shook his head. "She didn't say. I guess sometime yesterday, but like Doctor Allenbach, they printed out more results for us. That's what we have out there." Scully pulled away from him and stood. "I have to call their office." "Why?" Scully went to the bedside table and turned back to him. "If they stole the tests before we got the results, that could explain the..." she met Mulder's eye before finishing, "...discrepancies. They could've hacked in and changed the results to confuse us." She dialed the phone. "Why don't you take a shower while I call them?" she suggested. "Then, we can go shopping." Mulder hesitated before agreeing. He'd been trying very hard to deny all this. Finally, he decided to let Scully handle it. "Okay, but I won't be long." He headed into the bathroom and started the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, before grimacing and turning away. It was too much to think about now. He silently wished for an Ed Wood movie to paralyze his left-brain before turning back to check the water temperature. Finding the water was warm enough, he undressed and got under the stream of water. He quickly bathed and shampooed. When he finished, he grabbed a towel, tied it around his waist, and headed back into the bedroom. Scully sat on the bed, looking straight ahead. "Scully?" he called as he walked toward her. Her eyes were half closed and he could tell she was deep in thought. "Scully?" he called again. She blinked a few times before focusing on him. "What'd they say?" "They said it happened yesterday, but they have no way of knowing if the information was altered. They have no other hard copy from the first printing. There were only two copies made, and both were stolen." She said the words, but they seem detached from her. Mulder sat down next to her on the bed and put his hand on her knee. She stared out, not really focusing on anything. She stayed like this for several moments as Mulder watched her, concerned. Then, her shoulders dropped slightly and she began, "I dreamt about you." He looked at her with a bit of surprise: surprised she was talking again and surprised at her words. She continued before he had a chance to reply. "You kept trying to tell me something. It was so damn frustrating for a while because I only saw part of the dream. I could never seem to finish it." Mulder didn't say anything as he continued to watch her closely. "Until the night you came back," her voice wavered slightly. "Then, I had the whole dream. It was the entire song." "Song?" Mulder asked. Scully broke from her trance and looked up at him. "It was that David Bowie song about the astronaut..." "Major Tom?" She nodded. "I kept hearing it throughout the entire dream." She considered him for a moment before looking away and continuing, "It ended with you telling me that you loved me and that you were home." Mulder reached out and touched her knee. She studied his hand on her knee and quietly said, "I want that normal life, now, Mulder." He exhaled and pulled her closer. Safeway Grocery Mulder pushed the basket as Scully chose the needed food items. He was enjoying watching her move. She'd developed an adorable little walk, but he couldn't call it a waddle because she'd probably punch him. He found it quite becoming on her and smiled. As he looked down in the basket, he noted that Scully had chosen quite a few items. "Are we doing a month's worth of groceries?" he asked. Scully answered over her shoulder, continuing to lead the way, "I need more food since I only planned for me." "Usually I live on soup, crackers, beer, and sunflower seeds." Scully turned on heel and faced him. "We're going to be eating a little bit healthier than that," she informed him through a smile before turning back to shopping. They rounded a corner and Mulder discovered they were on the baby aisle. Diapers, formula, baby food, baby wipes... He looked back and saw Scully heading to the next aisle. "Let's check this aisle, Scully," he called. Scully turned back. "We don't need any of that yet." "Let's do a little reconnaissance," he said, guiding the basket down the aisle. Scully shrugged and followed. "Geez! Never knew there was so much..." he said, a bit awe-struck. "Everyone's out to get new parents' money," she responded dryly. Mulder turned to her, delight in his eyes. "Let's buy a few things." Scully shook her head. "Just some diapers and formula," he quickly explained. "We'll need those soon enough." "Mulder, we don't need them. Not yet. I just..." "You don't want to tempt fate." She looked at him. "Diapers and formula are not tempting fate," he assured. She continued to disagree and they exchanged words as Mulder grabbed a bag of diapers from the shelf. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed they were no longer alone: a man was standing near them, checking out the baby food. Strughold turned towards them and watched them spar for a moment. "Diapers, Scully! We can put them in the closet. We'll have them on hand so we won't have to stop on the way home from the hospital," he pleaded. "We have plenty of time," she countered as she tried to force him to replace the diapers. "Excuse me." They quickly faced Strughold, both shocked to find someone there. "Do you know anything about baby food?" Scully let go of the diapers and Mulder set them in the basket. "Um," Scully began. "Not... not really." "Of course," Strughold said, looking at her abdomen. "When are you due?" Scully frowned a bit; she was still not comfortable with everyone, even strangers, asking such questions. "A little over two months," she heard Mulder reply and turned around, giving him a stern look. He raised his eyebrows, asking her 'What?' without speaking. "You must be excited," Strughold replied, regaining their attention. "Your first?" "Yes," Mulder answered, again, earning him an even sterner look from Scully. "You look very well," Strughold said to Scully, who turned to him, her expression unreadable. He studied them for a moment before he explained, "My daughter is coming to visit with her nine month old and I'm not sure what to buy." Scully looked at the jars on the shelf. "They usually have them marked as to what age they're for." Strughold grabbed a jar from the shelf and read the label. "Beginners, six to nine months." He turned back to Scully. "Thank you." Scully smiled and turned looked back at Mulder. Grabbing the basket, she headed down the aisle, away from Strughold. "Come on, Mulder," she called over her shoulder. Mulder smiled at Strughold. "Good luck," he offered as headed off after Scully. "Thank you," Strughold replied with a smile, "and to you." He watched them as they walked down the aisle and around the corner, the smile fading from his face. Replacing the baby food jar on the shelf, he quickly headed toward the store exit. The woman with the camera took more pictures of Mulder and Scully as they returned from the grocery store. She snapped them carrying four bags of groceries into the apartment building. As she dropped the camera from her face, something to the side of the building caught her eye. She swung the camera back up to her eye and focused on that area. VII. The Alien Bounty Hunter was peering from around the corner, watching Mulder and Scully stroll up the sidewalk. As Mulder and Scully went inside the building, the Alien Bounty Hunter stepped back. He started to head toward the back of the building, but stopped short: Krycek was standing right behind him. "Get out of my way," he snarled as he started to shove Krycek aside. Krycek responded by snapping a stiletto right in his face. "We had an agreement. Not now." "He must go back," the Alien Bounty Hunter countered. "All in due time," Krycek agreed. "But, if you wait..." He waved the stiletto in front of his face, taunting him, "... you can have two for the price of one." The Bounty Hunter considered this. "How long?" Krycek smiled. "Two months... ten weeks... hard to say exactly. But, it won't be too long." The Bounty Hunter was not happy with this. The woman raised the camera and snapped picture after picture of Krycek and the Alien Bounty Hunter as they spoke. She slowly lowered the camera once more and her eyes narrowed as she stared across the street at them. "I think THEY would appreciate your discretion and patience if you had both of them," Krycek enticed. Giving Krycek a disdainful look, the Bounty Hunter walked around him and away from the building. Krycek closed the stiletto and pocketed it as he glanced around, checking to see if anyone witnessed any of that. The woman scrunched down in the seat, trying to avoid detection. Seeing no one, Krycek headed away from the building. He climbed into his car, parked four doors down, and drove down the street. After his car passed, the woman sat up. Patting the camera, she said to herself, "This is getting interesting." She lifted a cigarette to her lips, lit it, and inhaled slowly. FBI Headquarters Mulder sat at a conference table facing six men and women dressed in suits. One of them was Walter Skinner, who had not spoken. "Agent Mulder," Assistant Director Casey began the summation. "We were prepared to close the X-Files division after Agent Scully's disobedience. However, in light of the Agent Scully's contribution to that case, your return, and..." Casey looked over at Skinner, "... A.D. Skinner's explanation, we will allow the division to remain open under the following conditions..." Mulder glanced at Skinner as he sat up straight and steeled himself for the explanation of his future working conditions. An hour later Scully opened the door of the X-Files office and walked in. Mulder was sitting behind the desk with his back to the door, looking up at the bulletin board. "Thought I'd find you here." He swiveled around to face her. "I like what you've done to the place, Scully." "I didn't do a thing to it," she amended, sitting down in a chair in front of his desk. "I know, thanks." They sat quietly for a few minutes before he asked, "Quantico?" She nodded. "Actually, it's not bad. I'm going to be acting chief of Forensics." Mulder's eyes widened with surprise. "How's that?" "Dr. Mulherin resigned. He's going to Johns Hopkins to head their Pathology department." "Acting chief," Mulder repeated slowly. "Alright!" he whooped. "I knew you were going places, Scully." "And you're back here," she observed. "And still under A.D. Casey's thumb." He nodded. Then, he comically added, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." She emitted a short laugh. "It won't be the same," she said quietly and a bit sadly. Mulder turned serious. "No, it won't," he agreed, "It'll be better. He's coming soon." Scully nodded, but remained a bit sad. He knew what she was thinking: the tests, the baby's health, their safety... But it was too much to talk about now. He was tired after the day's activities, and he knew she must be tired, too. "Speaking of home..." he stood and walked around to the desk. "Let's go there and eat some of that food we bought yesterday." "Mulder..." She didn't finish, a faraway look on her face. "What?" "I'd love a gyro." Mulder lowered his eyebrows. "A gyro?" "Yeah, Roussos has great gyros," she explained as she stood and waled to the door. He shook his head. "Must be one of those cravings your Mom told me about..." Scully turned around. "What?" She hadn't heard him. "Roussos," he concurred as he followed her out the door. Roussos Restaurant They'd finished lunch and the waiter picked up their plates. "Dessert?" Scully shook her head. "No thanks. Just the check," Mulder answered. The waiter nodded and left. "I'll be right back," Scully said as she pushed her chair back from the table. "Again?" "Having to go to the bathroom every hour on the hour. One of the lovely things about pregnancy, among others. I won't be long." She headed off to the restroom. "Your mother's coming for a month? I don't think so." The couple's loud conversation at the next table got Mulder's attention for a minute. He turned halfway around in his chair and listened. "It's our turn. She's been with Cathy and Susie and Brad. It's our turn." "God!" When Mulder turned back around, Krycek was sitting in Scully's chair. Mulder's eyes widened and hatred crossed his face. "Careful, Mulder, remember where we are," Krycek advised, seeing Mulder's reaction. "I can arrest you and then wipe the ground with you as I haul your ass in," Mulder informed through gritted teeth. "I wouldn't do that. Isn't your better half in the restroom?" He nodded in the direction Scully had just gone. Mulder looked that way. Concern and anger flooded his face when he recognized Marita standing near the restrooms. "Congratulations, by the way. Didn't know ya had it in ya, ol' boy." Mulder was seething. "What the hell do you want?" "Just to pass along a little advice." He saw Mulder scoff at this. "That's a fine kid you got there." Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to him... or her." Mulder leaned forward, his hands clenched in fists and his eyes glowing with hatred. "Be careful. It's a crazy and dangerous world we live in. Never know what can happen," Krycek continued. "What are you getting at, Krycek?" Mulder's voice was hoarse with disdain and anger. "You're a smart man, Mulder." Krycek stood and started to walk away,then stopped and looked back at Mulder. "Y'know, you've inspired me. May have to have one of my own. Marita would make a great Mom, don't ya think?" Mulder looked ill and held back the urge to spit in Krycek's face. Krycek smiled and slithered away. Mulder watched as he and Marita exited the restaurant. Covering his face with his hands, he tried to quell his emotions before Scully returned. "What's wrong?" He looked up at Scully as she sat down in the chair Krycek had just vacated. This made his stomach roll, again. "It's just..." he considered telling her, then decided against it. "Must've overdone it today." The waiter brought the check. Mulder quickly pulled out his wallet and tossed some money at him. "Keep the change," he called as he got up and helped Scully to her feet. "Mulder," she chastised as he hustled her out of the restaurant, "that was too much money." "I'm back at work. Besides, you're acting head of Forensics." She was still looking at him sternly. "All I want to do right now is go back to your apartment, crawl in bed, and sleep with my two favorite people in the world." He was doing a pretty good job of covering his emotions. Scully smiled and gave in. He steered her out of the restaurant and to her car. A boat glided across the water as the sun set behind large moss-draped trees. As it pulled up to a pier, the woman who'd been taking pictures of Mulder and Scully tied it up to the dock, and turned off the engine. After she grabbed a large brown grocery bag from the seat, she climbed out of the boat. She walked up the dock and across the lawn to a small house set up on pilings. Climbing the stairs, she entered. Once inside, she walked into the compact kitchen and set the grocery bag down on the table. After pulling something from the bag and setting it on the table, she turned around and smiled. "I brought some more food." Then, she held up a large manila envelope and smiled. "We got some great pictures, too." She set the envelope down and fished in the bag before she took a few steps forward. "And I knew you'd need more of these." She plopped three cartons of Morleys on the table behind the couch. A woman sitting on the couch had her back turned. She took a long drag on a cigarette before setting it down on an ashtray, then turned around as she blew out a long stream of smoke. "Thank you," Cassandra Spender acknowledged as she gave her a thin smile. "But I really need to quit." The woman smiled and nodded. She turned to head back to the kitchen, but her attention was caught by something to her right. She looked that way and nodded. "I'm sure you'll use her share." Rolling from the bedroom in his wheelchair, though looking even better than the last time she saw him, CGB Spender stoppped and nodded back at the woman. "Isn't it exhausting?" Both CGB and the woman turned to Cassandra. "You don't have to keep it up with us," she assured as she focused on the woman. The woman looked at her, her expression unreadable. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as CGB and Cassandra stared at the woman. Suddenly, the woman's features melted and Diana Fowley stood before them. Cassandra nodded. "That's better. I don't like it when you don't look like yourself, or..." she became a bit flustered, "oh, you know what I mean." She turned back around and took a long puff on her cigarette. "You'll want to see these pictures," Diana told CGB as she turned back to the kitchen. "I'm sure I will," CGB agreed as he lit another cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. "What's that son of a bitch up to now?" She smiled. "Alex has been very busy. There is so much to tell you..." She hesitated a moment as she glanced back and forth from Cassandra to CGB. "...Agent Mulder's back." Cassandra audibly gasped and swiveled around to face CGB. CGB's eyes widened ever so slightly as he took another drag on his cigarette. He studied Diana, trying to gauge her feelings about this. But, her face gave no indication of her thoughts. "A regular reunion," was his only comment. Cassandra had more to say. "It's going faster than I thought it would." She looked intently at CGB. "What does this do to your precious timetable? Sounds like they've made some decisions without you. So, what's next?" Her tone had become quite bitter. He didn't answer her. Instead, he turned his attention to the cigarette he was enjoying and the tense quiet returned. Diana broke the silence as she had more information to share. "Scully's expecting his child," she said before returning to emptying the groceries from the bag and putting them away. Cassandra's eyes widened in shock as she turned to see CGB's reaction. A shocked expression spread across CGB's face, as well, but his words didn't match his expression. "Perhaps there's hope after all." THE END Visit my X-Files site: www.geocities.com/spookyteacher OR my David Duchovny: The Other Side of the Lens site: www.geocities.com/spookyteacher1 OR my fanfic site: www.spookyteacherfanfic.freeservers.com "I Want To Believe"
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