SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully really want to talk. Their
Perfectly planned evening goes horribly awry.

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, never were, you all know
it. Onward, ho!
SPOILERS: Milagro, The Unnatural (brief), The Beginning
Characters are mentioned from previous episodes.

DISTRIBUTION: By all means, take it away. Just leave my
name on it and let me know if you want me and my friends
to visit.

FEEDBACK: If it moves you, let me know. If it doesn't,
that's okay... it moved me.

DEDICATION - AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is made possible
because of the wonderful and constant encouragement of
Melody through a long summer of X-files reruns. I met
her at the Haven and she was the one who got my first
story "The Long and Winding Road" out there.

"You'll Be in My Heart" - Phil Collins

You'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more.

Chapter 1

Dana Scully could hear Mulder's voice as she exited
the elevator. Pausing outside the door that was
partially open, she smiled when she realized that he
was talking to Frohike. She shook her head ruefully.

<Those guys, > she thought with more affection than she'd
ever believed she'd have for Mulder's paranoid friends.
Though she had referred to them as the Three Stooges more
than once, she cared for them and knew that they cared
for her, too. It was comforting, really, when you
thought about it.

"Okay," Mulder was saying, "Just tell him I called and
have him call me when he gets in."

Scully waited until Mulder hung up the phone before
entering the office. He looked up at her arrival.

"Oh - hey Scully." He called out cheerfully. He leaned
precariously back in his chair; a trick that Scully had
never quite dared to do. And he had dared her several
times.

"Hey yourself," she returned with a more than a touch of
affection. She moved about the office, putting down her
laptop computer, her purse, took off her coat and hung it
on the coat rack, unaware that Mulder's eyes followed her
every move.

Unaware because Mulder was going to great lengths to keep
Scully from noticing his surreptitious glances. <I don't
gaze at her, > Mulder tried unsuccessfully to remind
himself. <Well, all right, I do. > And he was doing it
a hell of a lot more these past two weeks. Personally,
he was a bit worried that Scully - hadn't - noticed his
increased observations of her every move but he decided
that he had a pretty good idea why. His mind
automatically drifted back to the incident with Padgett,
where it all began.

When he had found his partner on the floor of his
apartment, covered in her own blood, he had been left
speechless with horror. Relief that she wasn't dead was
quickly supplanted with a new fear when Scully regained
consciousness and sobbed hysterically in his arms. Dana
Scully never sobbed. And Dana Scully was not hysterical.
Not after all the horrors she'd been subjected to had she
ever cried like this. Hell, she almost never cried. <At
least not in front of me, > he amended, a bit sadly. As
if that incident wasn't mind-altering enough, three days
later it happened again. He closed his eyes, remembering
for the umpteenth time driving her home from the hospital.

She had sat in the car, holding herself stiffly; obviously
she was still hurting. Doing his very best not to hover,
he had followed her painstakingly slow steps up to her
apartment, carrying the overnight bag he had brought her.
Scully had taken two steps inside the door before sinking
to the floor. Terrified all over again, he had dropped to
his knees in front of her.

"Scully!? Oh God - what's wrong?" He cried, his
imagination taking off in several dire directions. As his
hands reached up to cup her face, his eyes dropped to the
front of her blouse, and he half expected to see blood,
while he searched frantically for a clue as to what was
going on with her.

Instead of answering him, Scully had launched herself into
his arms, sobbing. Although he hadn't thought it
possible, she was crying harder than before. Quickly he
had scooped her up and rushed to her bedroom, intending to
lay her down on the bed. Scully however, had other plans.
She held on to him with all her strength and poured out
everything that had happened with Padgett. Everything.
Her thoughts, her fears, everything she had seen and felt
when the hand had reached into her chest and attempted to
remove her beating heart.

And as before, he had held her close and cried his own
silent tears.

The next day, she seemed better and as was their usual
MO, there was no further discussion.

Flashing forward to the next Saturday, he remembered
working on those files. <Well, actually Scully was
working, > Mulder mentally berated himself, remembering
how he had let Scully lug those huge books down the
stairs. <What was I thinking? > he silently moaned.
<Well, obviously, I wasn't. > He couldn't believe he'd
been that dense. Then later; Scully's batting lesson.
<Even I was sore the next day. > he recalled. Scully,
though, had never complained about any discomfort at all.
<Well, what do you expect? Scully isn't a - >

"Mulder? What's wrong?" Scully placed her hand on his
arm and squeezed gently to get his attention. Her voice
instantly pierced his painful struggle with the past and
brought him back to the present.

With a start, Mulder looked up to see Scully staring at
him, trying to mask her concern. He hadn't realized that
she had moved closer and was kneeling at his side. His
eyes found hers, their gazes locked. The worry she felt
flowed from the cerulean depths and bathed his entire
body. But instead of feeling comforted, guilt flooded
throughout him. <She has enough to worry about without my
adding to it. > He chided himself.

"Sorry, Scully," he said sheepishly, "I guess I kinda
zoned out there."

"No kidding," she teased, trying to keep her tone light.
"What's on your mind?"

Transfixed by her gaze, he was unable to come up with a
plausible explanation. Actually, no coherent thoughts
happened whenever she looked at him that way. The truth,
however, wasn't an option at this point. Right now, he'd
have to try and stall. This wasn't the time or the place.

"I'm fine. Really. I am. I just haven't had my usual
caffeine dose for the day." He tried, with studied
nonchalance, to throw her line back at her.

Scully blinked and shook her head. "Uh huh. Try again,
partner." Her bantering tone wasn't fooling him though.
She expected an answer.

Mulder sighed. <Well, I had to try, > and thought not
for the first time that it wasn't fair that it always
worked for her.

"It's not work related, Scully," he attempted to reassure
her. <Well, not completely. > he amended silently. "And
I do want to talk to you about it."

Scully opened her mouth to speak, but Mulder cut her off,
"But not here. Not now."

Her shoulders slumped. "Okay. Fair enough." She allowed
Mulder to assist her to a standing position, wincing
slightly. Mulder clenched his jaw, but held his tongue.

<She-is-still having pain. > He thought in frustration.

"So Mulder, when would you like to talk?" She asked as
she settled herself on the corner of the desk, crossing
her legs at the ankles. She watched him closely,
expectantly. If she had any idea what he wanted to
discuss, she gave no indication.

"Scully, when are you going back to the doctor?" He asked
anxiously, but firmly.

She jerked her head over, a spark of anger flashed in her
eyes, but quickly died when she saw the fear that etched
his features. She sighed. And then, to Mulder's utter
amazement, she answered his question. "Monday."

Mulder's jaw almost dropped. He had been ready for a
fight; anything to give himself time or the courage to get
back to the talk he so desperately wanted to have.

Scully went on. "I was able to get an appointment for
Monday morning, so I'll be a little late." She looked
away. "I was going to tell you later."

<Oh really? > Mulder thought with a touch of amusement.
<This is definitely a new side of my partner. > It was a
side he'd never seen before and seeing it convinced him it
was past time for their little talk. The prospect of a
resolution left him elated as well as more than just a
little scared.

"You still haven't answered my question, Mulder." She
pointed out with a smile.

Mulder took a deep breath. It felt like he was taking a
leap of faith. "How about over dinner tomorrow night. We
can start the weekend off with a bang."

Up went Scully's eyebrow. "A bang?"

Mulder cringed. "You know what I mean. Friday night, we
don't have to get up early the next day."

Scully bit at her lower lip in an attempt to hide her
grin. Point for her. "You mean we don't have to go
through old files again this weekend?" she asked
innocently. Point two.

"No." he said shortly. "So," he softened his tone.
"Is tomorrow okay?"

The phone cut off Scully's reply. Mulder groaned as
Scully answered it.

"Scully." There was a pause while the caller identified
himself.

"Mom? Is something wrong?" Scully asked, instantly on
alert.

Mulder grabbed coffee cup and hurried out, giving Scully
some privacy. She smiled her thanks, which he
acknowledged with a nod.

When he returned several minutes later, he found his
partner seated in his chair, rolling a pencil between her
fingers, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Is everything all right?" he asked worriedly.

She looked up at him. "With Mom, yes. But a friend of
hers needs my help and I told her I would, but now I'm
trying to figure out how to make it work."

"Anything I can do?" he inquired hopefully.

"Well," she paused, unsure how to proceed.

"Go ahead," Mulder urged her. "If I can, you know I
will."

Scully rewarded him with an anxious smile. "I know you
will. Would you be willing to change our dinner plans?"

Mulder's heart sank. Apparently so did his face.

"Not cancel them," she quickly assured him. "Just instead
of going out - wait. Let me start at the beginning.
Mom's friend is Nancy Dickerson. Her husband, Dr.
Theodore Dickerson has to leave town rather suddenly and
she had already made arrangements to have some repair work
done. She asked Mom to house sit because she doesn't want
to cancel, but Mom already made plans to go to Charlie's.
So I'm going to take her place. She told Mom that I could
have the run of the house and it's a very nice house in
the country. No one will be there and I'd hoped we could
have dinner and our talk out there. They even have a pool
and stables." She felt like she was babbling but she just
couldn't stop. She didn't want to lose this chance with
Mulder.

A genuine smile lit up his face in relief. "Sure Scully.
It sounds great." <There is a God. > he thought happily.

"There is a catch, though," she gave him an impish grin.

Suddenly wary, Mulder cocked an inquiring eye at her.
"And what might that be?"

"I will have to take tomorrow and Monday off to be there
for the workmen. Her housekeeper passed away last month
and she hasn't found a replacement yet," she told him.

"No problem," he agreed readily. In fact, that would work
out for the best. Scully had come back to work too soon
after Padgett and a four-day weekend sounded made to
order.

"Well then, it's settled. Mrs. Dickerson is on her way
over to give me the keys and directions. I told Mom to
tell her I'd have a visitor's pass and escort ready since
she's in such a hurry. Oh, and before I forget; since
you'll be driving all the way out there, I'll make
dinner." She leaned forward to pick up the phone without
giving him a chance to respond.

Mulder was left to ponder that scenario while Scully
called Security.

Chapter 2

Scully was catching up on her typing when Nancy Dickerson
rushed in, exactly one hour later, looking flustered and
out of breath. Her short brown hair, with just a touch of
gray, was wind blown and sticking up in every direction
possible.

She went straight to Scully and gave her a quick, grateful
hug. "Dana, I can never thank you enough. You are a
life-saver."

Mulder grinned: Well he'd known that for quite some time
now.

Scully extricated herself carefully. "It's no trouble,
Mrs. Dickerson. Really." Scully tried without success to
hide her embarrassment. Mulder wasn't helping matters
with that goofy grin on his face. "I'm just happy I can
help. Oh, and by the way, this is my partner, Agent Fox
Mulder."

"It's nice to meet you, Agent Mulder." She quickly shook
his hand. "Okay - I don't have much time..." Nancy
stepped back towards the desk, muttering to herself as she
dug through her purse. "Keys..." She laid a small
keychain with three keys attached on the desk.
"Directions to house..." She pulled out a folded piece of
paper and laid it next to the keys. "Phone numbers..."
Lastly, she handed a small red book to Scully. "The
security company, landscapers - they'll come Monday - and
the stable boy - Frank. Frank walks and grooms the horses
everyday and also takes care of the stables. You won't
even know he's there." She took a deep breath. "The
repairmen will be working in the attic only. We had some
storm damage and if we don't fix the problem soon, it's
going to spread to the living areas. There's no
cosmetic work; just structural, so there won't be any
decisions to be made about color or carpet."

"Well that's a relief," Scully said laughing.

"So, if you don't mind my asking, Mrs. Dickerson, where
are you going?" Mulder asked politely.

Nancy stopped in her tracks and fixed Mulder with a mock
glare. "Now that's a good question, Agent Mulder, because
I have absolutely no idea. Ted refuses to tell me." She
faced Mulder squarely. "What is it with you men - you
think we can just pick up and go at the drop of a hat -
traipsing off after you blindly - no questions asked."

"Yes, Mulder," Scully jumped in gleefully when she saw
where Nancy was heading. "Please explain that for us."

Mulder's face went blank. <This is not good, > he thought
fleetingly, before Nancy moved in.

"I'm not allowed to go home and pack. I'm supposed to
just pick up what I need when I get wherever it is that
we're going. Now that's all well and good for you guys,
but most of you seem happy enough to shop an any local
discount store that comes along. My tastes, however, are
just a little bit more refined than that, as I'm sure
Dana's are as well, and discount just doesn't always make
the grade with us. Let me tell you this: if there isn't
one nice department store close by, I'm going to be
extremely unhappy. You understand, don't you, Dana?"

"Oh absolutely, Mrs. Dickerson. I know exactly how you
feel." Scully kept her eyes away from Mulder, knowing
that she'd never stop laughing if she looked at him right
now. This was too good. Mulder would never be able to
catch up in the Game today.

Mulder, for his part, threw up his hands in defeat. He
was outnumbered and in a no-win situation and he knew it.
"I surrender. You're both right. Don't shoot me."

Nancy laughed good-naturedly. "Excellent. Then my work
here is done. Thank you again, Dana. I'll call you when
I can and let you know what's going on. Agent Mulder."

"Good luck, Mrs. Dickerson," Mulder called after her,
before giving in to the laughter that had been building
inside him.

"She's got a point, you know." Scully said abruptly, when
Nancy was out of sight, startling him into silence.

"Hey, wait a minute," he protested. "Don't you start in
on me too, Scully. I threw out the white flag, remember?"

"That's right," Scully said in a satisfied tone. "And I
won't let you forget it, either."

Mulder shook his head with a smile. "You win," he
conceded with grace. "Now - are you going to tell me
where this place is that I'm going to for dinner tomorrow
night?"

Scully quickly copied down the instructions and phone
number then handed him the paper. Mulder studied the
words while his partner gathered up her things and moved
towards the door.

"Wait a minute!" Mulder exclaimed. "Where are you going?
It's not even lunch time!"

"I've got to go home and pack. I can't take the bag I use
for our business trips: suits and scrubs are out of the
question. Besides, you know how hard it is for me to go
off at the drop of a hat without the proper clothing," she
told him in her no-nonsense voice, daring him to say
something.

Scully was definitely having fun at his expense and Mulder
knew it. But seeing the sparkle in her eyes was certainly
worth a little grief, so he kept his mouth shut and
smiled.

"Good-bye, Mulder," she called breezily, already out the
door. "See you tomorrow at 7:00 sharp. Don't be late."

Mulder leaned back in his chair and carefully propped his
feet on the desk. Something in her tone told him that her
statement was more significant than it pretended to be.
<So, we're finally going to talk, Dana Scully. Well, I'm
ready. In fact, I'm way past ready at this point. And
ready or not Scully; here I come. >

Chapter 3

Scully said a silent prayer of thanks that she made it to
her car without anyone stopping her along the way. The
chest pain had come on suddenly, just as she was getting
into the elevator to the parking garage and she knew
without a mirror that her face was pale. She swallowed
several times, trying to relieve the nausea that
accompanied the ache that was impossible to localize.
Beads of perspiration sprang out across her forehead as
she willed the elevator to hurry. By the time she got to
her car, the pain was almost gone.

Fighting to control her fear, she leaned forward, her
hands on her thighs and told herself in no uncertain terms
that it was not angina; it was not heart pain. It wasn't.
The doctors had assured her that her heart was fine. It
was the muscles and cartilage that were causing her
continued discomfort. She knew her body and she had an
intimate working understanding of pain. This was nothing
to be alarmed about. On a basic level, she did realize
that her logic was flawed, but being a doctor sometimes
meant that your denial of your physical symptoms was much
more powerful than any scientific logic. She took a
cautious breath. The pain was gone, taking with it any
doubts that might have continued to gnaw at her flawed
logic.

Looking around the deserted garage to make sure that no
one had seen her earlier distress, she fished out her car
keys and got in her car. She made it home in half the
usual time since there was no traffic and hurried up to
her apartment.

Contrary to what she had told Mulder, Scully knew that she
really didn't need much time to get ready for her weekend
in the country. Years of chasing after her partner had
trained her well. Less than an hour after arriving at her
apartment, she was back on the road again. It had been
simple enough to fill her suitcase with casual clothes and
impulsively add bubble bath to her toiletry bag. Lastly,
she grabbed up her mail, made sure that all the lights
were off and checked the answering machine for any
messages before locking her door and heading back to her
car.

As she traveled out of the city and into the countryside,
she put the cruise control on and was not too surprised
when her thoughts took off as well. The first thing that
came to mind was the Dickerson home. Ten miles later, she
had conjured up a detailed mental picture of a quaint
antebellum home, surrounded by pecan trees and magnolias,
maybe a pond. She couldn't help but giggle self-
consciously. Surely that image had absolutely nothing to
do with the airing of "Gone With the Wind" two nights ago.
<Right, > she giggled again, <absolutely nothing. > She
thought ruefully that she didn't laugh enough and decided
that hopefully she could change that. A few more batting
lessons would be a pleasant start.

Then, Mulder's face flashed in front of her. It brought a
small smile to her lips. Before she could blink, Padgett
replaced Mulder's face. Scully gasped even as Tooms
jumped up before her eyes. It was as if someone was
running a macabre slide show. Her head swam. Almost
blinded by her sudden tears, she managed to pull her car
over to the side of the road without incident.

<Oh - God - please - stop, > she whimpered brokenly.
<Please - make it stop. >

The images however kept coming at a sickening rate. Her
entire existence since becoming Mulder's partner was
replaying in her mind in stark detail. Antarctica -
Cancer Man - Pfaster - Gerry - Krycek - Gibson - Fowley -
Melissa - Ahab - Skinner...

Scully cried out, burying her face in her hands, trying to
shut out the images that would not go away so easily.
This was truly bizarre - a twisted version of a "deathbed
- life flashing before your eyes" scenario.

She froze. <Oh, God, no...Is that what was happening?
Was she DYING?! >

"NO!" She again cried out, slamming her hands against the
steering wheel. "This is NOT happening! And I am NOT
dying!" Without warning, the pictures were joined by
voices: hers and Mulder's, the words overlapping and
unintelligible.

"Enough!" Her strict rationalism, as Mulder so eloquently
put it, took over. With every ounce of mental strength
that she possessed, she made her decision. <That's it! >
She slammed the mental door shut on the images and voices.
She locked the door. <No more. Period. I am not dying
and I am not going crazy! > If this was her subconscious
way of fighting her feelings for Mulder then she was not
going to fight anymore. <Let the chips fall where they
will, > she thought, resolutely.

"I love Fox Mulder." She said loudly. "Are you happy?
Are you satisfied? I love him. And I'm going to tell him
and I'm going to show him. Is that what you want?" She
heaved a huge sigh. "I love you, Fox Mulder," she
whispered, enjoying the way the words sounded to her own
ears. "I love you."

Her shoulders slumped with the effort and her head hung
low. All of a sudden, she was tired. Very tired.
Unbelievably, indescribably tired. And so the decision
was made. It was simple really, when you took it to its
most basic level.

She was not going to fight It anymore. Not entirely sure
if she was dying or not, she was not about to waste
another second fighting It. Mulder wanted to talk. So be
it. For six years, Mulder had wanted to talk in his own
way and she had resisted in every way imaginable. Why?
Oh, she knew that she could probably give herself a
grocery list of reasons why. All of them quite valid,
reasonable, and plausible. And totally ridiculous when
you looked at where it had gotten her.

Yes, she had tried to talk to Mulder in her own way.
"Don't you ever want to stop the damn car?" She shuddered
at the memory. <Oh yeah, that had really opened up the
lines of communication. >

<So, what does Mulder want to talk about? > She asked
herself. <Maybe he's ready to stop the car, too, > she
mused. <Stop it. > She chided herself fiercely, with a
quick shake of her head. <Just stop it. Turn off the
beam into his soul for once. > She held on to the
steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity.

Since day one, her life, as unpredictable and unorthodox
as it was, with Mulder had been like nothing she could
ever have imagined in her wildest dreams. Or nightmares.
His very presence had turned her existence into something
out of a Star Wars movie.

She immediately cringed at the comparison. <Okay, that's
it. That's enough. You are not to think about it
anymore. Stop fighting it. > She reached for the radio
and searched until she found a classic rock station. None
of that 90's alternative stuff. Only the classics would
do in times like this. She turned up the volume and let
herself be carried away by Kansas, Styx, Journey,
Aerosmith, Foreigner, and Pink Floyd and did not think
about it. She had shut the door on the visions, voices,
questions, fears and doubts and she did not look back.
She had done enough of that to last a lifetime. She was
only looking ahead and she would talk with Mulder and she
would take the next step...whatever that step might be.

The rest of her drive was uneventful. There were a couple
of episodes of mild chest pain, but nothing like she had
experienced earlier in the garage. She managed to ignore
the pain and kept her concentration on the road and the
music and did not think about IT.

As she got closer to her destination, she realized that
she ought to stop for supplies to make dinner tomorrow,
since the workmen would be there during the day. A quick
stop at the grocer's and she was back on the road.

Her first glimpse of the Dickerson home left her
stunned. Remembering her earlier musings about her
preconceived idea of what it would look like, she was
totally unprepared for what she was looking at now.

It was as though she had been transported to Cape Cod. As
she drove up the paved driveway, she admired the manicured
lawn and blooming flowerbeds. She parked the car in front
of the gorgeous Victorian mansion and stepped onto the
white wooden porch with gingerbread latticework. She took
in the gray weathered shakes and the white window frames
and shutters and breathed contentedly. She had caught
sight of the stable peeking out from behind the house and
smiled in anticipation. Quickly, she grabbed her things
and hurried inside, eager to see her weekend getaway.

Wandering through the house she got a feel of the layout:
the dining room with a large banquet table, a spacious
library with dozens of shelves lined with a multitude of
books, and a small parlor with a Steinway piano. Her eyes
appreciated the soothing, restful earth tones of the
living room.

It was the kitchen, though, that took her breath away.
Generous countertops, glass-doored cupboards; it was huge.
All the appliances seemed to be of the latest design.

She stepped out onto the sunporch and glancing to her
right, she stopped in her tracks. The pool. Brightly
colored flowers, torches, a waterfall and a Jacuzzi
surrounded it. The deep blue water in the resort-style
pool sparkled enticingly in the afternoon sun. <Oh yeah,>
Scully thought happily. <This is going to be a great
weekend. >

Chapter 4

Mulder showed up for work Friday morning at his usual
time. By 11:00, he was seriously wondering why he had
bothered, since he obviously wasn't going to get any work
done without Scully. Sitting at his desk, he resolutely
kept his back to the door. It was driving him crazy: he
kept expecting his beautiful partner to float in, juggling
her coat, coffee, briefcase and the occasional bagel. He
sighed. Nothing was right when she wasn't here at his
side.

He focused on the bulletin boards and the myriad of
photos, news clippings, odds and ends, and THE poster.
Only lately did he refer to his "I Want to Believe" poster
as THE poster. He saw it that way in his mind, in all
capital letters. Zeroing in on the bold white letters, he
nearly laughed out loud at the irony. "I Want to
Believe." Well, he didn't believe for a minute that Karen
Berquist had replaced his poster, not for one minute.

If he thought that he loved Scully before, and he knew
absolutely that he did, he learned something new the day
that he discovered that it was actually Scully herself,
who had replaced THE poster. She had gone to great
lengths to keep secret her identity as the giver, but she
had underestimated him. That was something she so rarely
did. For now, he let her have her little secret: he was
still too caught up with the increased level of his love
and adoration of that petite redhead.

It would never cease to amaze him that his love for
Scully, which consumed every fiber of his being, continued
to find new ways to grow. Sometimes, he thought he would
truly burst. Literally and figuratively.

Mulder glanced back at the phone willing it to ring.

<Maybe I should call her. > He actually went so far as to
pick up the receiver before dropping it back on the hook.
<No. She might be busy. And besides, what would I say?
Better to save it for tonight. >

Tonight.

Anxiety crept through his veins and settled in his gut.
He rubbed a nervous hand across his face.

"Getting cold feet, Mulder?" asked that irritating little
voice in his head.

"Shut up," Mulder replied angrily. "I don't have cold
feet. We ARE going to talk." He didn't stop to think how
this would look if Skinner popped in and heard him talking
to himself.

"Are you sure you're going to talk? Why is tonight any
different from last night, or last week, or last year for
that matter?" The voice was really starting to irritate
Mulder.

"Because it is different!" He pounded his fists furiously
on his desk. The stinging pain brought him around and he
took a deep cleansing breath. "Tonight is going to be
different." He had nearly lost her too many times and
that incident with Padgett had been the last straw. It
had been too easy in the past to pretend that they had all
the time in the world. Well, it was time to face facts:
they didn't have all the time in the world. He was not
going to lose another day.

Without pausing to consider his actions, Mulder grabbed
his coat and stormed out of the office. He wasn't going
to wait any longer. He had waited long enough. "Okay,
Scully, I'm coming..."

Chapter 5

Mulder left the Hoover building, realizing he wasn't
exactly sure where he should go. His original intention
had been to go straight to the Dickerson home, but common
sense reigned him in. It was much too early, and he
wasn't about to show up in a suit, dressed as Special
Agent Fox Mulder. No, tonight he was going in as just Fox
Mulder and he wanted to look the part. For that he needed
to go home and change. Maybe even take a shower to calm
his nerves.

As he toweled off, he realized that if his script played
out the way he wanted, he might not be coming home tonight
and concluded that he should pack an overnight bag. The
bag was halfway closed when a thought struck him: the
Dickerson's had a pool. Quickly, he grabbed his swimsuit
before he lost his nerve, refusing to let his "Scully-in-
a-bikini" fantasies invade his consciousness.

<Not now, > he told himself firmly. <Let's just be
prepared and see what happens. > He looked around. <What
else? > Glancing down, he saw that he was still wearing
only a towel around his waist. <Good one, Mulder. >
Shaking his head ruefully, he reached for his boxers
before realizing that he wasn't exactly sure of the dress
code for tonight's dinner (date?). Stepping over to his
closet, he considered his choices.

<Okay, the suit is definitely out of the question. > He
found his black turtleneck and instantly rejected it.
<Too hot. > That and it always reminded him of a night
of "funky poaching" with the Lone Gunmen after learning of
Scully's cancer. <Nope. Not going there. > he thought,
viciously stamping down any negative impressions. He had
several white, grey, and even black t-shirts, had even
packed a couple, but knew that they were much too casual.
<So, what's left? >

He caught sight of a pair of khaki pants and grinned.
Their undercover assignment in Arcadia. Man, he'd had fun
out there and deep down thought that Scully had too,
despite any evidence to the contrary. Over the years,
learning what Scully wanted in life had been a
painstakingly slow process and Mulder knew that he'd made
plenty of mistakes in the past, but he prided himself on
the fact that lately, he was getting better at not making
the same one twice.

That planned community had really been over the top, but
he thought that it was possibly close to something that
Scully wanted. That was something else to talk about.
Throwing on the khaki pants and pink Izod golf shirt, he
added one last item to his bag: a pair of black velvet
jeweler boxes.

He took a moment to look at the ring he had gotten for
Scully upon their return to Washington. It wasn't the
exact same ring she had worn. At the time, he couldn't
come up with a way to obtain it and be 100% sure that no
one would ever find out. So, he'd memorized the size and
bought a similar one. Truth be told: he liked the new one
better. The center stone was larger; 1.2 carats, but
bezel-set so that there wouldn't be any prongs to snag on
gloves. He had the jeweler put 16 channel-set, 2-point
diamonds on either side with the center stone set low. He
had even asked a female customer to try wearing the ring
and then putting on latex gloves to see if it was a
problem. She had happily reported that it was no trouble
at all getting the gloves on over the ring.

Mulder closed the box with a sigh. <Would tonight be
the night? >

Finally he roused himself from his reverie. <Enough.
Time to get on the road. > He was almost out the door
when the phone rang, stopping him in his tracks. He
debated whether or not to answer, then reluctantly picked
it up. It might be Scully.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's Byers. I tried you at the office. Can you
talk?"

"Actually, I was on my way out. What have you got?"
Mulder asked, not unkindly.

"Oh, all right," Byers fumbled. "I wanted to let you
know about a scientist who has been doing some incredible
work on the 'God Module'."

That caused Mulder to pause. <Gibson Praise. > "Talk
to me."

"Apparently, he recently made an incredible breakthrough,
details unknown at this time, although we're still
checking." Byers informed him. "I thought, in light of
your previous interest, you might want to talk with him,
also."

Holding the cordless phone and pacing restlessly, Mulder
chewed on his lower lip a moment before replying. "Okay.
Yeah, I would - but I can't today. What's his name and
where can I get in touch with him?"

"Well, Dr. Dickerson has a lab in New Jersey -"

"Wait a minute!" Mulder cut him off. "Dr. Dickerson?
Dr. Theodore Dickerson?" he asked, struggling to keep
the surprise out of his voice.

"Yes," Byers answered. "You know of his work?"

"Not exactly," Mulder said evasively. "Go ahead and
give me the address and phone number of the lab and I'll
get back to you." Mulder took down the information, and
hung up the phone, his thoughts whirling. Dr. Dickerson
makes some breakthrough on the "God Module" just months
after Gibson disappears, leaves town unexpectedly, but
doesn't even tell his wife where they're going. He
couldn't wait to find out if Nancy Dickerson had been able
to call Scully. Instinctively he thought it unlikely. It
seemed more probable that Nancy was completely in the dark
about her husband's work, otherwise she would never have
asked an FBI agent to housesit. <Or would she? >

Mulder grabbed his bag and ran, slamming the door shut
behind him.

Chapter 6

Mulder kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts kept
returning to the Dickersons. There were so many questions
to be answered, not the least of which was the nature of
this "breakthrough". If Gibson Praise was Dr. Dickerson's
lab rat...Mulder shook his head, remembering the last time
that poor boy had been operated on and the look on
Scully's face as she changed the bandages covering his
scalp. It was difficult not to think about what he'd do
if Gibson wasn't all right. And Scully. Her reaction,
also, did not bear contemplating. After everything that
they'd both lost, losing Gibson would just add rocket fuel
to the already blazing inferno.

Arriving at the front gate, he yielded to a large work
truck, filled with equipment and several laborers leaving
the property. Mulder glanced down at his watch; 4:50.
A little over two hours early. With the car in neutral,
he glanced round, looking for inspiration when his gaze
lit upon a field of wild flowers. Flowers. That's what
he should have brought with him. Backtracking, he found a
florist shop and picked out two long-stemmed Fire and Ice
roses, which the clerk wrapped with a silver ribbon and
added baby's breath and greenery. Perfect. Simple but
elegant.

Twenty minutes later, he was back at the front gate and
resolutely drove through. Maybe he could help her set the
table or something. <No turning back now, > he told
himself. <It's now or never...>

Driving up the circular driveway, he couldn't help but
admire the surroundings. It was so peaceful out here and
he fervently hoped that Scully was taking full advantage
of the fresh air and beautiful landscape. He stared over
at the front door before turning off the engine. <Why do
I feel like a teenager at his date's house? > he thought
as he picked up the flowers and stepped up the porch.

When Scully didn't answer on the second ring of the
doorbell, he took a chance and tried the doorknob. It
was unlocked. He knocked once and poked his head inside.

"Hey, Scully! Where are you?" He called out expectantly
trying to keep his fear in check. Everything was quiet
though, as he moved further inside and shut the door
behind him.

He caught sight of the dining room, the table already
elegantly set with candles waiting to be lit. Mulder
smiled. The rich smells of tomatoes, oregano and garlic
pulled him into the kitchen and a peek in the oven
revealed a large pan of lasagna. It looked like it hadn't
been in too long and the dishrag she'd been using was
still damp. But where was she?

Finally making his way to the back porch, he got his first
look at the pool area. And Scully.

Mulder thought his heart might truly stop. His legs were
rooted to the ground and he could only stand there,
staring at her. She was pulling herself up the ladder,
out of the water, her auburn hair darker by several shades
when wet and clinging to her scalp.

<Oh - my - God...she was really and truly wearing a
bikini...> It was all he could think as he literally
gaped at her in pure admiration and a kind of reverence.
He took a shaky breath as she retrieved her towel and
began wringing the water from her hair. He stood immobile
- frozen - unable to look away, instead reveling in the
glory of her glistening, ivory flesh.

For Mulder, it was as though time now moved in slow
motion, his eyes glued to his partner and her every
unconsciously sensual move while wearing a very revealing
teal number that did more for him than seeing her naked in
the Antarctica ever had. <Of course the circumstances are
entirely different, > he allowed, feeling drunk and
lightheaded and loving every second of it.

He was bedazzled.

He was stunned by the violence of his emotions and his
brain was struggling mightily to make some sense out of
his reaction to seeing Scully in a bikini. He had the
sudden sensation of being picked up by two strong hands
and being set down in a brand new world...in Paradise.

So enraptured was he, that he failed to notice that she
was moving towards him. Her head down, Scully also didn't
realize that he was there until they were a mere five feet
apart. Both gasped in shock.

Scully instinctively clutched the colorful beach towel
closer to her body as she stared open-mouthed up at her
partner.

Mulder found his voice first. "Sorry if I'm a little
early." He waited a beat before extending the roses.
"Here. I hope you like them." He said almost shyly.
<Don't let her be angry, > he thought desperately. <Don't
let her throw me out. >

"I'd say that you're more than a little early, Mulder,"
she said mildly, as she took in his outfit before reaching
for the roses. "They're lovely. Thank you." Casually,
she dropped the towel on a nearby chair as she moved past
him. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I go
change." With a mysterious Mona Lisa smile, she went
inside, leaving Mulder staring after her, in stunned
amazement.

"Is that really you, Scully?' he muttered to himself
as he went inside to wait.

Restlessly, he paced the living room awaiting his
partner's return. Everything he had planned to say
raced through his mind and her possible responses
competed for his attention.

He shook his head. <Wait a minute. Wait just one
minute.> From the second he'd gotten here, nothing was
going like he'd envisioned. Fantasized, yes, but he
never really expected to see Scully in a skimpy 2-piece
bathing suit right when he got there. And her reaction to
his seeing her was out of character, too, wasn't it? And
come to think of it, she had walked away from him without
a towel or any type of cover-up, inviting his eyes, hadn't
she? Walking away from him like that, had given him
plenty of time to ogle to his heart's content, taking in
every inch of her sculpted arms and legs, rounded bottom,
slim hips, and provocatively curved waist. Mulder allowed
himself another minute to savor the memory before getting
back to the matter at hand.

So, what is going on with Miss Dana Scully? What prompted
this shift in her behavior? Still pacing like a caged
animal, he began to think that maybe, just maybe, she was
at the same place he was. Could it be? After all these
years of playing the game, and dodging, avoiding, and
flat-out refusing to deal with their true feelings for one
another, no matter what the reason, could it be that they
were finally on the same page?

"Mulder, you're going to wear a hole in Mrs. Dickerson's
carpet if you keep that up."

Mulder whirled around to see Scully standing at the
bottom of the stairs, smiling indulgently over at him,
her blue eyes twinkling.

Chapter 7

Silently he watched her with hooded eyes, walk slowly
towards him. His hazel eyes darkened imperceptibly as
they raked over her from head to toe, missing nothing.
Her auburn hair framed her face with just a hint of curl
and her flawless skin reflected the light of the flowered
chiffon dress that she wore. The hem skimmed the tops of
her slippered feet and was sleeveless, with a scooped
neckline and several layers that oh-so-gently hugged her
body in a way that made him jealous of the fabric. He
realized with a start that she was not wearing heels,
choosing instead to present herself as a tiny delicate
flower and he was captivated all over again. He
definitely intended to get this talk out of the way so
that he could scoop this gorgeous creature up and carry
her away.

"Would you like a glass of wine, Mulder? Dinner will be
ready in about twenty minutes." She continued to gaze up
at him, an indulgent smile touched her lips at his obvious
delight in her appearance.

"That would be great, Scully." He managed somehow.

Nothing more was said until she returned with two glasses
and they had settled comfortably on the sofa. Mulder
didn't see her wince slightly when her recurrent chest
pain flared briefly.

"Scully, you look incredible." Mulder said softly,
sincerely.

"Thank you. You look very nice yourself," she returned,
taking a small sip of wine.

Several minutes of silence ensued.

When Mulder didn't continue, Scully elected to take the
initiative. "Tell me something, Mulder. Would this
dinner and conversation that you wanted to have, by any
chance have something to do with Padgett?" There, she'd
said it. Just saying his name evoked a panic that stole
her breath away. She forced herself to inhale and exhale
slowly, calmly and quietly.

Mulder swallowed and stared at her, choosing to answer
honestly and forthrightly. "In a way. I'm realizing
how much that whole episode truly frightened me."

Scully's eyes widened at his admission. He continued,
not giving her a chance to speak.

"As scared as I was, and let me tell you that I was plenty
scared, what scared me the most was seeing how badly you
were scared. I've never seen you like that and I hope
that I never do again. So, yeah, this has something to do
with Padgett. But let me be perfectly clear on this
point: he was the catalyst - not the cause. We've needed
to talk for years. He didn't make me suddenly realize
that I love you and you know that."

Scully lowered her eyes in acknowledgment. She did know
that. Of course she did. "And I love you, Mulder. I
would hope that you know that, too."

He scooted over on the couch so that he could take her
face gently in his hands, causing a small sigh to escape
her lips. Eyes bright with unshed tears, she stared up at
him.

Without hesitation, he bridged the gap between them and
kissed her softly and chastely, marveling at how her lips
were as warm and richly smooth as the rest of her.
Marveling at the pure joy he felt, he couldn't believe it
had taken him this long to kiss her. He leaned back and
she opened her eyes.

"What I'm trying to say, is that I'm - in - love with you.
For once in my life, I have the strength, strength you've
given my by the way, to say this. Dana Scully, I love you
with all my heart, with all my soul and with all that I
am. I always will and we deserve to let that love take us
as far as our heart's desire." He leaned in to kiss her
again, deeper this time, finding her lips were as open to
his seeking mouth as her whole heart.

"Mulder..." she murmured spellbound, almost afraid to
move. Was this really happening? Or was it a dream
that she was about to lose by waking?

Reluctantly, he released her face then reached for her
hand, unwilling to stop touching her, drawing courage
from her. "I have to say this, Scully. I know it will
seem totally out of character, and even as I say it, I
can't believe it."

Scully remained silent; clenching his hand fiercely and
watching him struggle.

He went on. "A few nights ago, I happened to catch a TV
interview with Peter Gabriel, the singer. You've heard of
him, right?"

She simply nodded. Of course she had and he continued.

"There was a song he mentioned and something he said about
it really affected me." He paused, not really believing
that he was sitting here telling her that the words of a
song said everything he felt about her. "It's called 'In
Your Eyes'. I don't know if you ever remember hearing
it." Glancing over at her, it seemed to him that right
now she was barely remembering how to breathe. He plunged
ahead. "Gabriel described it as a 'search for wholeness'.
Well, the title and what he said intrigued me; I couldn't
let it go, so I did some checking. When I read all of the
lyrics..." He stopped, fumbling for the words. "I don't
know if I can describe how it touched me."

"I have heard the song," Scully said, almost too softly
for him to hear. "It's breathtakingly beautiful. Thank
you for sharing that with me." She took a deep breath and
forced herself to get the most painful question out of the
way. "Mulder, I have to know: what about Agent Fowley?"

Mulder grimaced. "Having a degree in psychology doesn't
make you immune to mind games and manipulation. With your
help, I now recognize her for what she is and I want to
apologize for my behavior. I know that I handled it badly
and if I hurt you, please know that that was never my
intention. If I could do it all over again, I would and I
would do it much differently. Especially knowing what I
know now." He fixed her with an earnest stare. "Don't
you see, Scully? Everything is different now. It's like
I'm finally seeing clearly for the first time in my life.
Give me a chance to show you. I've learned so much with
you and about you. Please, please let me show you how
much. Give me that chance...give us that chance."

Scully couldn't help but offer up a token argument. "What
about work, Mulder?"

"We'll take care of it, Scully," he responded.

"How?" She asked curiously.

Feeling like he was making progress, Mulder inched a
little closer. "Your work, my work, our work. Scully,
we've done this for six years now. Nothing about that
changes. Nothing. Life is a road - it's not straight and
flat and isolated. Our direction changes as does our
individual destinations, and I believe we have many
destinations. Scully, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," she replied without hesitation. There
was no doubt that she trusted him implicitly - he
shouldn't even have to ask, her expression told him
plainly.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

She froze. She definitely wasn't used to hearing that.
She loved him, though; she had for so long now, but to
hear him ask took her by surprise.

She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand. "With
all my heart, Mulder," she answered softly, not only with
her voice, but also with her eyes. "I love you so very
much."

He smiled and took her hand and placed it over his heart.
"I'll always love you, Scully. And I promise: I'll always
be right here for you." He paused. "Finding Samantha..."

"Samantha..." Scully echoed.

"Samantha, knowing what happened to her, the truth, all of
it. Until you joined me on this road, I've just been
travelling in circles. And that aspect of the road of my
life is not the be-all-end-all of my existence. I've
truly accepted the possibility that I might never know it
all. No matter how painful it might be, it's true. That
pain however, cannot compare to the pain I'd feel not
knowing what life with you would be like as more than just
my business partner and friend. I can't keep dredging up
the past, but with everything that's happened to us - to
you -"

"Mulder - stop - please." She placed the tips of her
fingers against his lips and pressed softly, halting
his words.

A dagger of fear pierced his soul. <It's over. Did I
blow it? >

Scully kept her fingers against his lips. "The past is
over. It's done. It's changed us in so many ways and yet
we can never change it. The future..."

Mulder grasped her hand and placed it against his heart.
"You alone are my future. In the future I want you body
and soul. I want to take you in my arms and never let you
go. I want to go to bed at night lying next to you and
wake up in the morning still holding you close. I want to
be able to reach out and caress you whenever you walk by,"
he told her with passionate conviction.

Scully remained silent. She had always felt as if there
were two immense knots linked together inside of her, one
in her heart and one in her head. Before tonight, if she
dared to think about matters of true love, one of the
knots might come undone and she was unable to imagine what
would happen to her then. Men in the past had tried to
get them untied and although the knots had sometimes
loosened, they had never come undone. One or the other
always held firm. Staring at Mulder, she finally
understood.

All this time, since she had joined him, Mulder had
patiently and tirelessly worked on the knots, loosening
them. Somehow he knew that to get to the heart, you had
to go through the head. Sometimes the knots resisted his
efforts, but he had never given up. The progress he had
made had gone unnoticed by her conscious mind and she
realized that he had finally dispensed with subtlety last
week at the batting lesson.

<Get over here, Scully. > She blushed at the memory,
feeling his arms around her.

And here he was, sitting before her, professing his love,
trusting her as always. Scully felt the knots come untied
at last and fall away. It was as if a great load had been
lifted and she suddenly felt as light as a feather, ready
to float away on Mulder's love.

Mulder had watched her closely, apprehensively. It almost
scared him to see her like this, all her emotions on the
surface for him to see. She was usually so strong, so
centered, so in-control that seeing what she had always
kept hidden unnerved him. For so long, she had hidden her
vulnerability behind her quick, intelligent mind and
piercing blue eyes. Since Padgett, though, the façade had
been slipping more and more - but only around him, only
when they were alone. Just brief, tantalizing glimpses.
And now, sitting here in that clinging chiffon dress
instead of her usual power suits he had to stifle the
urge to pick her up and never let her go.

With tears of joy flowing silently down her cheeks, Scully
went to him. Her smile intensified the light. Her face
was radiant as she stretched out her arms to him in
undisguised welcome, in pure joy.

Mulder, his heart bursting with euphoria, enveloped her
completely in his arms, smothering her with kisses and
murmuring over and over, "I love you."

"Dr. and Mrs. Dickerson. Don't move."

Chapter 8

At the sound of the harsh command, Mulder and Scully
froze. Utterly and completely shocked by the intrusion,
Mulder took one look at his partner's eyes and knew by her
expression that she was unarmed. <Oh no, > he thought in
mind-numbing horror, <So am I. > His gun and holster were
in his jacket, five feet away on the recliner.

Realizing that the two men in combat fatigues believed
that they were dealing with a scientist and his wife,
Mulder pushed Scully away as hard as he could, even as
he threw himself in the opposite direction, off the couch.

Before the startled intruders could bring their guns
around, the FBI agents scrambled forward and each tackled
the man closest to them.

Mulder charged like a raging bull, but his target shifted
at the last possible second. Mulder's forearm caught the
gunman solidly in the gut. The man groaned in agony and
slumped over but recovered quickly and threw an arcing
roundhouse punch that caught Mulder's upper arm. He made
no sound, gritting his teeth against the pain. As the arm
instantly went numb, Mulder realized that the man was
powerful and scarily strong. <Scully! > Desperation
struck him.

Despite the risk, he glanced over in time to see the other
gunman throw his partner to the floor and tackle her. He
heard her moan, the heart-wrenching sound sending a wake-
up call to his brain. <Finish this guy!>

Mulder slammed his fist into the guy's stomach again. The
man gagged and retched with the force of the blow. Mulder
followed with a hard left punch to the man's jaw that sent
him reeling. Before he could take him out, though, the
intruder launched an explosive kick, catching Mulder in
the already injured shoulder, resulting in an explosion of
nauseating pain that drove him to the ground. Dazed,
Mulder rolled to one side, but the gunman was on him
before he could recover. A lightning quick punch caught
the left side of his head and was immediately followed by
a second, catching him in almost the same spot and then a
third. Blackness overcame him quickly and completely.

Scully, for her part, used the element of surprise to her
advantage. As the man's weight pressed her into the
unyielding floorboards, she braced her legs and twisted
her body hard to the left. Suddenly she was free. But it
was an extremely short-lived victory. Powerful hands
grabbed at her like a vise and managed to catch her left
arm just below the elbow. She was yanked back violently,
nearly dislocating her shoulder. With a strangled cry,
Scully allowed her body to be pulled around, and brought
her right fist into his nose. The momentum gave the punch
an extra kick and she heard the satisfying crunch of bone.
She was immediately released as the gunman dropped to one
knee, both hands flying to his face. Scully had drawn
back her fist again when the other gunman struck her from
behind. The impact left her breathless and wondering how
she'd been blindsided. The pain coursed through her
entire body like a tidal wave. She caught sight of
Mulder, lying unconscious, before another blow sent her
following him into oblivion.

The two gunmen, breathing hard, stared in disbelief at
their handiwork. Neither could believe how violent things
had gotten.

"Hey Cap," said the one who had taken out Mulder. "I
thought you said this would be a piece of cake." He
rubbed his aching stomach, still nauseated.

"It was supposed to be," Cap muttered angrily, trying to
determine if his nose was broken. It was taking all his
self-control not to kick the woman lying at his feet.
"Look Sarge, go get the stretchers and the med kit. I
want to get Doc and the little wife here packaged up and
ready to go before they come around. The Boss won't like
it if the goods are damaged."

Sarge hurried out, as Cap checked the pulses of his
victims. Both were strong and reassuringly steady.
He breathed a sigh of relief.

Sarge returned with the equipment and the two men went to
work. They placed Mulder on a stretcher and strapped him
down firmly with four-point leather restraints. While
Sarge bound Scully to the second stretcher, Cap started an
IV in Mulder's arm. He taped it securely and adjusted the
rate to the slowest drip rate possible. "Sarge, you got
her down?" he called over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir. Snug as a bug." Sarge replied with a grin.
<We did it, > he thought exuberantly, already planning
what to do with the bonus money.

"Good. Get over here and give the doc 2 amps while I get
this other line started." Cap gathered his supplies and
switched places with Sarge to kneel at Scully's side.
"Wheel him out when you're done. I'll medicate the little
lady and meet you out there."

Sarge nodded and hurriedly left the house, pulling the
stretcher behind him. Cap joined him several minutes
later and together they loaded Scully and Mulder into the
back of an unmarked ambulance. Cap climbed into the back
as Sarge got behind the wheel and drove off.

"Cap, do you want me to call the Boss now?" Sarge said
with a satisfied smirk.

"Not yet," Cap answered thoughtfully.

"I guess we showed 'em, right, Cap?" Sarge laughed.
"We got the doc."

Cap leaned back with a smile. Sarge's enthusiasm was
almost infectious. <Yes, I showed them. > He and Sarge
had been left off the teams sent out to retrieve Dr.
Dickerson, having made a near-fatal error on their last
assignment. They were punished and humiliated. The Boss
was going to be mighty surprised to find that it was his
hunch that the doc would return home. It had been his
belief that Dr. Dickerson had sent the Boss' teams on a
wild goose chase with the intention of hiding out in his
own home. Ingenious when you thought about it. <And if
it hadn't been for me, it would have worked, > Cap
thought. None of the Boss' teams were even in the state.

"Pretty good, Doc," he told the sedated Mulder, "But
not good enough to get past Cap."

Chapter 9

Cap kept a close eye on "Dr. and Mrs. Dickerson"
throughout the drive to the compound. Now that he had
them, he wanted to make sure nothing would happen to them.
Not for one minute would he underestimate the importance
of the two people lying in a drug-induced stupor before
him. The Boss had been quite clear on that point.

For just a moment though, he let himself think about the
bonus money before forcing himself to concentrate
on the matter at hand. <Dani had better have everything
ready like I told her, or she's gonna find herself in a
world of hurt, > he promised, desperately wishing that he
could call and check in on her. "Might as well wish you
were twenty years younger," he muttered.

"Sarge," he called out. "How much further?"

"About 45 miles to the ferry," Sarge called back. "I've
been doin' the speed limit like you said."

"All right." Cap stared resolutely ahead. He didn't want
Sarge to know how nervous he was. There were still so
many things that could go wrong, not the least of which
was getting pulled over by the police. An unmarked
ambulance in the middle of nowhere would be pretty hard to
explain.

They made the rest of the trip in silence, without
incident. Cap rechecked his prisoners' pulses: his was
okay, hers seemed a little fast. With a small frown, he
increased the drip rate slightly.

When they arrived at the ferry, Cap finally began to
believe this was going to work. "It has to work," he told
himself. "I deserve that money. And a little respect."
He had worked too hard to lose it now.

Sarge got them safely across to the tiny island and the
low-level security facility that the government had
formerly used. Five years ago, the government had
abandoned it for more high-tech operations. Although the
complex was small, the Boss had made plenty of
improvements. Cap chose this location because right now,
with all other available men searching for the Dickersons,
the compound was deserted.

Sarge pulled up to the automated checkpoint and inserted
the magnetic passkey. The computer accepted it and
automatically opened the gate. The checkpoint was
situated between a double run of electrified barbwire,
eight feet high and encompassing the complex on three
sides. A cliff that looked out over the Atlantic Ocean
protected the fourth. He drove slowly through; keeping an
eye out for the two trained Dobermans that patrolled the
ten-foot wide space between the inner and outer runs. The
computer faithfully opened the inner gate and once Sarge
was through, closed and locked the gates.

When the ambulance came to a halt outside the Visitor's
Quarters, Cap moved quickly. The Visitor's Quarters was
actually a three-storied dormitory with twelve living
areas, smaller than apartments but larger than a jail cell
and just as secure. Each had a bathroom, bedroom and den,
sparsely furnished and with no windows and only one steel
door. There was also no kitchen; all meals were made and
served by Dani.

Sarge came around to the back of the ambulance and opened
the door, looking in at Cap expectantly.

"Okay, Sarge, let's get our guests unloaded."

The two men quickly and efficiently settled Mulder and
Scully on the bed.

"Take out the IV's, Cap?" Sarge asked.

Cap paused. "Hang on a minute." He stared at Scully,
rechecking her pulse. It had been six hours since their
capture and it seemed that her heart rate was still a
little fast. "Hopefully it pumps faster naturally," he
mumbled, unsure, since nothing else seemed amiss.

"What's that, Cap?"

"Nothin'. Give the doc another amp and then take out the
IV. I want them out a little while longer." Cap himself
gave Scully half an amp of the powerful sedative, letting
the IV run wide open to circulate the drug before removing
it.

Sarge completed his task and followed Cap out of the room,
locking the door on his way out.

Cap double-checked the lock. "Get Dani and have her meet
me in the main office. Then I want you to take care of
the dogs. You know Dani's too scared to go anywhere near
'em."

"Sure thing, Cap." Sarge hurried off to find Dani with a
pang of disappointment. He would rather hear Cap telling
the Boss how they'd outsmarted all the other teams and
captured the elusive Dr. Dickerson. <Just keep thinkin'
about the money. Show me the money. > He laughed at his
own joke.

In the Main House, Cap poured himself a straight shot of
scotch with hands that trembled slightly. He downed it
quickly in an attempt to keep his nervousness at bay. The
liquid fire promised to help since it had been over eight
hours since he and Sarge had eaten. Even as he poured
another shot, his mind automatically reminded him why he
was in so much trouble with the Boss. "Hell, I guess damn
near killing your own boss would get you in serious
trouble no matter what your line of work," he muttered.
"Oh yeah, he had shot the Boss and he and Sarge had paid
dearly. The fact that there were so few men in the
organization had been the only thing that had kept them
alive. You screw up once and you count your blessings if
you're given a chance to redeem yourself. Cap and Sarge
had screwed up once. The Dickersons were their chance for
redemption, a chance that was not given but would be
taken.

Cap waited several more minutes before picking up the
phone, taking another shot of the alcohol. <Careful,> he
warned himself. <Courage from a bottle can turn on you on
a dime. >

Finally, he grabbed the receiver and punched speed dial.
The Boss answered on the second ring.

"Who is this?"

"It's Cap."

"Cap." The voice was cold. "What do you want?"

Cap actually felt a shiver run down his spine. "I got the
doc." He was inordinately pleased that he'd kept his
voice from betraying any emotion.

"You got - what - doc?"

Cap swallowed. "Doc - doc Dickerson." He paused for a
moment and when there was no response, added, "And his
wife."

Silence.

"Where?"

"At his house. I - I had this hunch." <Don't lose it
now, > he ordered himself.

"You had a hunch." The Boss sounded incredulous.

"Yeah - that he'd go back to his house. You know, hide in
plain site." Cap struggled not to sound smug.

"That he'd play us for fools."

"Yeah - no! No!' Cap cursed himself as every kind of
fool. "No - nothing like that." He wiped the sweat from
his forehead.

"You weren't assigned to any of the search parties."
Now the voice was grim.

"I know. We just wanted to cover all the bases. Make
sure that we got him."

"We?"

Cap froze. "Uh - we. Me and Sarge."

The Boss drummed impatient fingers on the desk. "You
got just the two of them?"

Cap released the breath he'd been holding. "Yeah."

More silence.

"They're not hurt are they?"

Cap caught the thinly veiled threat. "They put up a hell
of a fight, but they ain't hurt. They're both sedated
right now."

"Where are you?"

"We're holed up at the island."

"All right. I'll be there in three days, sooner if this
storm breaks. Just stay there. Don't call anybody else.
Nobody. Dani's there, right?"

"Yeah," Cap swallowed.

"Let the good doctor stew. Don't have any contact with
them until I get there. Let Dani be the only one to go
anywhere near them. Is that understood?"

Cap gulped. "Understood." It was made perfectly clear to
him that he was still on the Boss' shit list and Dani was
the only trustworthy one in the Boss' eyes. The Boss was
ruthless, no doubt about it.

When he realized that he'd been hung up on, Cap closed his
eyes, took several deep breaths and managed to keep his
anger in check. He had to stay in control. It was all
coming together.

After several seconds, he reached over for the bottle of
scotch and caught sight of Dani staring at him blankly.
Startled by her totally silent entrance, he dropped the
scotch. The bottle shattered on impact, sending the tiny
shards of glass flying to land in the puddle of amber
liquid.

"Shit!" Cap swore as he carefully stepped back from the
debris, wondering how long the girl had been standing
there. He stormed over to her, intending to take out his
embarrassment on her and hoping to scare her for once. As
usual, she held her ground without flinching or even
blinking. Cap had yet to figure out if she was truly
unafraid or too stupid to know the danger. He grabbed
Dani by the front of her blouse and dragged her over to
the desk. Dani went willingly enough and still her
expression and her eyes remained vacant.

Cap huffed in frustration as he began writing. Yelling at
Dani was an exercise in futility - she was deaf, did not
speak and did not read lips. The Boss used her as a kind
of housekeeper on the island and gave her free reign of
the place but forbade her from ever leaving. Dani never
seemed to mind. In fact, Cap had never seen any real
emotion on the young woman's face. She was almost like a
robot and it gave him the creeps. Cap had asked the Boss
about Dani once, but had not received any information
other than Dani was special and untouchable.

As he continued writing down Dani's instructions, he
wished as he did every day, that Dani could read lips.
Writing everything down was a pain in the ass. Finally he
shoved the paper into her hands and stormed off. He was
tired and he was going to bed.

Dani waited until Cap was gone before smoothing out the
paper and reading its contents:

Dr. & Mrs. Dickerson in VQ. They are VIP. Feed them.
Boss here-3 days. Clean up mess in here.

Dani threw away the instructions and went to get a broom.

Chapter 10

Darkness. Through the darkness, an intense throbbing
behind his eyes, a horrible pulsating pain that caused him
to moan softly. Vaguely, he remembered fighting with a
man who had called Dr. Dickerson. What had happened next
was a blur. The blinding pain stole his concentration and
he moaned again. Without opening his eyes, he knew that
he was lying on a bed and that someone was lying next to
him. Hesitantly, his eyes still closed, he reached out
and his hand touched the body lying an arm's length away.

Scully. <Thank God, > he thought as he managed to push
past the incredible agony and pull himself closer to her
and slide one arm under her shoulders. Using what little
strength he had left, he drew her even closer, pillowing
her head on his chest and locking his arms around her,
before succumbing to the lingering effects of the drug.

Chapter 11

Some time later, Mulder again regained consciousness, and
this time, he was much more lucid. He still had a nagging
headache, but the pain was tolerable, so he pushed on. He
discovered that his right arm was completely numb and the
momentary fear he felt dissipated when he realized it was
because Scully was on top of it. With her body lying
almost completely on top of his, he could feel her heart
beating rapidly in her chest.

Still a little groggy, Mulder couldn't help but smile.
Not the way he had pictured being in bed with Scully, but
for just a few precious minutes he intended to enjoy the
experience. He couldn't stop himself if he tried to
anyway. This was like a dream come true. <Well, kind
of.>

<Man, is it hot in here. > he thought disjointedly, as he
struggled to sit up, a job made more difficult because his
joints were so incredibly stiff and sore. Gently he
extricated himself from under Scully and rolled her over
to get a better look at her and try to determine why she
hadn't yet awakened.

"Oh shit!" he cried, his voice almost unrecognizable to
his own ears. Now he was wide-awake. He realized in a
split second that it wasn't "hot in here", but that
Scully, herself, was hot! With hands that shook, he
brushed back the hair that was sticking to her face and
realized that she was burning up with fever.

"Scully! Scully, please, please wake up," he pleaded
desperately. Any discomfort he had been experiencing was
instantly forgotten. Quickly he looked around for
anything that he could use. There didn't seem to be much.
With a light shining from an adjoining room as the only
illumination, he saw the room they were in contained a
bed, and two end tables, each with a lamp but no phone.
Loath to leave her side, he went to the lighted room,
which turned out to be a bathroom. Fighting the panic
that threatened to consume him, he located washcloths and
towels. The medicine cabinet contained toiletries but no
medications so he grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in
cold water. It was then that he caught sight of the
needle puncture in the bend of his right arm.

"Shit!" he swore again. They'd been drugged!

Racing back to Scully, he found an identical mark in the
bend of her left arm. He also noticed that she seemed to
be having difficulty breathing and on a hunch, propped her
up on both pillows so that she was reclining at a forty-
Five-degree angle. For how long, he couldn't say, but
over and over he tenderly sponged her arms, her neck and
her face, calling to her softly and going back every
couple of minutes to rinse the cloth in cold water after
her increased body heat had neutralized the chill.

At last, she seemed to be improving, even though she had
yet to regain consciousness. Mulder desperately tried to
figure out what was going on. <Please, don't let them
have overdosed her, > he begged silently to whoever had
kidnapped them, apparently because they thought that they
were the Dickersons.

"Dammit!' he hissed. He realized that he had been trying
to rouse Scully by calling her by name. If this place was
bugged, they were sunk. <Too late now,> he thought
helplessly. His main focus now was to find out what was
wrong with Scully. Was it because of the drug?

"But how?" he asked himself. He wasn't a doctor but he'd
never heard of a drug - causing - a fever.

"Come on, Scully, help me out here," he pleaded, even as
he continued to sponge her down. "You know I can't do
this on my own."

A sudden scraping sound caused his heart to leap in his
throat. Looking over he realized that there was another
room off of this one, besides the bathroom. With a quick
glance back at Scully, he cautiously went to investigate.

He found himself in another room, also without windows.
He caught sight of a switch and immediately flicked it on.
The room held a small dining table, two chairs and a
couch. The only way out was a heavy steel door, with a
sliding food carrier. That was what he'd heard: a tray
with two plates of food and a thermos had been pushed in.

Mulder took the tray off and got as close as he could to
the opening. "Hey! Hey, is anybody out there? Hey, we
need help! She's sick!" Mulder stopped yelling for a
moment. He didn't know if anyone out there knew that he'd
used Scully's name, but decided not to risk it. "My wife
is sick!" he hollered. "She needs a doctor!"

When no one returned after several minutes, Mulder gave
up. Picking up the tray of food, he stepped into the
bedroom, and proceeded to almost drop it when he saw that
Scully was awake.

"Wife?" She mouthed silently, both eyebrows up.

For a minute, Mulder was torn between relief that Scully
had regained consciousness and seemed okay, total
embarrassment at having been overheard referring to her as
his wife and fear that he was about to spill the food.

Scully bit her lip in a desperate attempt to keep from
laughing aloud at the look on her partner's face as he
juggled the tray. She just couldn't help it since the
expression was so comical.

"Very funny," Mulder whispered, trying to regain his
dignity. He placed the tray down on the nearest table
without further mishap, then sat down on the bed next
to her.

"Nice of you to join me," he quipped. "I was beginning to
think you were going to sleep all day."

"What day is it?" Scully asked worriedly.

Mulder glanced down at his watch, startled that he hadn't
checked before. "Saturday. 2:30. I think in the
afternoon; there aren't any windows in this place."

Scully brought both her hands to her head; rubbing her
temples and squeezing to try and relieve the shooting
pains.

Mulder caught her pained expression. He reached out his
hand and gently placed it on her forehead. Her skin was
clammy and hot, but the fever didn't seem any higher than
before. There was a thermos on the tray and he poured a
glass, sniffing the contents carefully. Cautiously he
took a small sip. Lemonade. Seemed okay. They'd have to
chance it. "I'm hoping it's safe to drink. Do you want
to try?"

Eagerly Scully nodded and tried to push herself further up
in bed, and was dismayed that she could barely lift her
head, much less her arms. Without a word, Mulder slid his
arm under her and pulled her up, then he scooted around so
that she could lean against him. When the glass touched
her lips, it was all she could do not to gulp down the
entire contents of the glass of the tart liquid. Dimly
she decided that she didn't care if it was tainted or not
- it was too delicious and cool to ignore.

"Okay?" Mulder asked.

Scully nodded again, panting softly. "You should try
some."

"I will. Why don't you have a little more, though?"
Mulder returned the glass to her lips.

Scully didn't argue, and finished the glass then tried to
catch her breath while Mulder poured a glassful for
himself.

"I guess that we need to talk." Mulder said when he
was done.

Scully agreed and pulled herself forward slightly. It
seemed to help her breathing and the dreadful ache in
her chest.

"But before we talk about where we are and why we're
here," Mulder said, "I'm going to go over every square
inch of this place and see if I can see any listening
devices. While I do that, you just lie there and rest.
No arguments."

Scully sighed in resignation and watched him work;
efficiently and meticulously. When he was done, he
returned to her side and sat down, pronouncing the
room bug free as far as he could tell.

Mulder took a hold of Scully's left arm and showed her
where the needle had been inserted. "We were given some
kind of drug by our captors."

Scully stared up at him, horror contorting her features.
"Oh God, it must have been after we were knocked out in
the fight."

Mulder was pleased that she remembered that. He didn't
want to add "head injury" to the list of things to worry
about. "Yeah, probably. But I don't think that's the
reason you're burning up with fever and having trouble
breathing, is it?" He tried without success to keep the
dread out of his voice.

Scully licked her lips and opened her mouth to answer when
they heard the scraping of the sliding food carrier in the
other room.

Instantly Mulder was on his feet and out the door. He
stared at the contents of the carrier in complete
surprise. A bottle of Motrin. Dumbstruck, he picked it
up and returned to the bedroom. Scully was sitting
straight up in bed, her eyes wide.

"What is it?" she asked weakly.

Hearing the effort in her voice, he quickly reassured her.
"I guess that somebody heard me." He showed her the
bottle and opened it up. Pouring several tablets into his
hand, he let her examine them.

Scully sighed. "I think that they're really Motrin."

"So, will that help?" Mulder asked hopefully.

Relief lit up her face and she grinned. "Yep, just what
the doctor ordered."

Mulder poured out the last of the lemonade and Scully
swallowed three of the pills, feeling optimistic for
the first time since waking up.

Mulder silently took the glass from Scully's hands. The
fact that they trembled slightly did not go unnoticed and
he stared closely at his partner lying so very still, her
face pale and drawn with pain, barely able to keep her
eyes open and it made him want to cry.

"Mulder," Scully said quietly, finally breaking the tense
silence. "Please don't look at me like that." She
touched his face, wanting to smooth away the deep unhappy
creases in his forehead.

Mulder winced at his transparency. "Sorry, Scully." When
he felt her hand clasp his, he tightened his grasp in
response. For just a moment, he let his thumb caress the
top of her hand, marveling at how silky soft the skin was.

Scully hated to spoil the moment, but Mulder had to be
told the truth. There was no way that she could deny
or downplay her condition and any plans that they made
would have to be made with that fact in mind. She
swallowed hard, then looked up at him and forced herself
to speak.

"Mulder, I believe I have pericarditis." Scully regretted
the bluntness, but didn't know how to tell him any other
way.

"What!?" He was not prepared for such an admission and
while he wasn't exactly sure what pericarditis was, it
sure didn't sound promising. He had just about convinced
himself that Scully just had a bad case of the flu. His
body tensed instinctively and realizing that he was close
to crushing Scully's hand, he fought down his wave of
panic and eased up on his grip.

Scully took a deep breath, regretting it instantly. "It's
an inflammation of the sac that encapsulates the heart.
At first I thought it was just the muscles in my chest
being sore after...after..." she stumbled and could not
say it. She looked up at Mulder helplessly.

<After Naciemento nearly ripped out your heart, > Mulder
silently filled in and nodded his understanding.

Scully went on. "But the fever and the shortness of
breath tell me differently."

Mulder simply stared at her, feeling like an abyss had
opened up beneath him. He shuddered and closed his eyes,
wanting to hide his dismay. "What can I do?" he asked,
the sensation of his own heart being crushed was nearly
overwhelming.

"Well, the Motrin is actually a good thing and it will
help the fever and pain since it's an anti-inflammatory
drug." She paused to catch her breath, wincing in obvious
discomfort. "Also, I need to keep my pulse as low as
possible in order to prevent the sac from filling up any
faster than it already is."

"In other words, you should just lie there, right?"
Mulder asked, clinging to humor in hopes of conquering his
fear. His eyes flashed mischievously. "Does that mean
that I get to wait on you hand and foot?"

Scully's lips quirked. She knew exactly what Mulder was
thinking, as always. "Yes, yes it does." Catching the
comical leer on his face, she added, "But I wouldn't get
too happy about that."

"Why not?" Mulder said plaintively. "Come on Scully, you
said it yourself: keep your heart rate down. I can do
everything for you and you don't have to lift a finger."

There went that eyebrow. "Everything, Mulder?"

Mulder leaned in close. "Everything, Scully," he
whispered seductively at her ear.

"Oh, that will help my heart rate." Scully said, managing
a smile that lifted Mulder's spirits.

Scully's cheeks had flushed a bright red that Mulder knew
was only partially due to fever. Contrite, he backed off.
"I'm sorry, Scully. You relax, I'll behave. What else?"

Scully gazed up at him. "This is going to be awkward,"
she said as a self-conscious smile tugging at her lips.

Mulder's brow furrowed. "What is?"

"I love you. I've loved you for so very long, now," she
said, her voice soft, almost shy, her eyes downcast.

Still holding her hand, Mulder pulled it to his lips.
"I love you, too."

"This isn't exactly how I planned it." Scully stated
ruefully.

Mulder was really curious now. <Planned? It? What 'it'?>
Suddenly it hit him. <Whoa - it being the next stage of
their relationship? Just how long - >

"Mulder, don't look at me like that. It's not what you
think."

"And just what is it that I'm thinking?"

"Mulder," she groaned softly. "You're not making this
easy for me."

Refusing to let go of her hand, he raised his other, palm
up and shrugged his shoulders. "Help me out here, Scully.
I think I'm really lost."

Scully sighed. All she wanted was to lie back and rest,
but this was too important. Ignoring the throbbing in her
head, she tried to make Mulder understand. "No matter how
we tell ourselves otherwise; our relationship - is - going
to change. Of course, I believe it is for the better,"
she quickly added.

Mulder grinned, but remained silent, holding Scully's hand
like a lifeline, caressing it with his thumb.

"This transformation will take time, though, at least for
me. Just because we've seen each other naked, doesn't
mean I'm instantly going to feel comfortable undressing in
front of you." Again, Scully regretted her bluntness, but
she wasn't strong enough to keep up this conversation much
longer and she desperately needed Mulder's understanding.
"It's the little, day to day things outside of work that
will take some getting used to also. Except when we went
undercover at the Falls of Arcadia, there was always a
comfort zone mandated by our job. Professionalism."

"Oh, is that what that green face goo you wore was - a
comfort zone?" Mulder teased.

"In a way, yes. But I do use that mask." Scully retorted
good-naturedly. "Just not to sleep in."

Mulder laughed, but then grew quiet, contemplating what
his partner had said and acknowledging the validity. She
was right, of course. It wouldn't be right to rush
through this.

"Just be patient with me, Mulder," she whispered.

"Always," he vowed. "Now, why don't you get some sleep.
I think we've done enough talking and you're exhausted."

Scully nodded.

"I'm just going to put this tray in the other room,"
he told her as he put the thermos on the tray and carried
everything out to the other room except for two oranges
that he placed on the bedside table.

Scully leaned back, relieved that the Motrin had kicked
in, reducing her temperature to a more tolerable level.
The dreadful ache in her chest had also diminished
somewhat. As tired as she was though, sleep threatened to
elude her in light of their imprisonment. Worse, was the
complete helplessness that enveloped her like a net. She
couldn't escape; hell, she couldn't even fight back in
this condition and that scared her as much as angered her.
She was a trained FBI agent and right now she was
completely dependent on her partner. The lack of control
was terrifying.

They seemed to be in a holding pattern for now, though;
left alone by their captors. She knew that she should use
this time to try and regain her strength, to be ready in
case an escape opportunity presented itself. But she was
afraid. She couldn't hide it from herself, no matter how
hard she tried. She was afraid.

Suddenly, she remembered her drive down to the Dickerson's
and the promise she had made to herself. She was not going
to fight IT anymore. Was this part of IT? Maybe it was.
Maybe she needed to stop fighting Mulder's help as well as
his love. Let go and trust that Mulder would take care of
her, just as she would take care of Mulder if their
positions were reversed. She wouldn't think less of
Mulder if he were the one who was sick. She let herself
believe that the opposite was true, also.

<No more fighting, > she admonished herself. <Save your
strength for more important matters. > She sighed quietly.

Mulder finished checking the heavy steel door, unable to
see any way out. He was trying to give Scully some time to
go to sleep and as such, was surprised to find her still
awake upon his return. He moved to sit back down beside
her and tenderly stroked her damp cheek.

"Hey, why haven't you gone to sleep yet?" he asked
worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Scully nodded, unable to speak, overwhelmed all over again
by her love for this man as she reveled in his touch. She
couldn't change instantly, but she was now ready to take a
step. She found her voice at last. "Would - would you lie
down with me?" she asked demurely.

Mulder paused a beat before replying. "Scully - are you
coming on to me?" he asked hopefully, a grin lighting up
his face.

"Yes, yes I am," she replied, happy that he didn't think
she was asking for help, despite her earlier thoughts.

Mulder leaned in to kiss her. He'd let her think that he
misunderstood her request. He knew all too well how she
abhorred showing any signs of weakness and the fact that
she trusted him to ask for comfort, in her own roundabout
way, caused his heart to melt. It would take time, he
knew, for her to feel totally at ease in this new aspect
of their relationship. And he was determined to give her
all the time she needed. He waited for her to get
comfortable, then carefully situated himself alongside her
as she pressed against his body. Lovingly, he draped one
arm around her and felt her gradually relax until she
finally slipped off to sleep, comforted by his strength
and the trust she knew she could place in him. He could
tell that her rate of breathing was faster than normal and
she was still febrile, but at least she seemed a little
more comfortable and for that he was grateful.

Chapter 12

Mulder wasn't aware that he'd even gone to sleep until
something jerked him awake. He felt disoriented in the
strange room, the only light coming from the bathroom, the
door partially ajar. A glance at his watch showed it was
now 9:45, Saturday night, he assumed. He heard movement in
the bathroom, and water running - Scully. Realizing that
he hadn't felt her get out of bed didn't upset him nearly
as much as the fact that she'd gotten up at all. Then he
chastised himself: it's just the bathroom. Its not like
she went for a run and besides, there's nothing you could
do for her in there.

<Well, if she was taking a bath there was, > he mused, but
that was obviously not the case. It sounded more like she
was brushing her teeth, right now. But how long had she
been in there?

He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp; thinking
that he really should have eaten earlier. He picked up one
of the oranges he'd saved and began peeling it when Scully
came to the doorway.
 
Feeling her eyes on him, Mulder looked up to see her
smiling sweetly over at him.
 
"Hungry, Mulder?" she asked.

"Yeah." He stared at her closely and saw the very second
that the pain hit her. He heard her quietly gasp as her
hands clutched at her chest and the color drained from her
face and without a word, he vaulted from the bed. Scully's
eyes closed as she crumpled soundlessly right into
Mulder's open arms, instinctively knowing without a doubt
that he'd be there to catch her.

Frantic, he lifted her and clutching her closely, carried
her back to the bed. "Scully?" His eyes searched her face,
willing her to be all right.

Scully, her face ashen, finally opened her eyes.
"Mulder -I -" She couldn't get the words out.

"Sssshhh - don't try and talk," he admonished her gently.
He went to the bathroom to soak the washrag and placed it
on her forehead, smoothing her hair back.

"It's getting worse," she said breathlessly.

Mulder grunted softly. Like he couldn't tell. "So, does
that mean that you won't get up again without my help?" He
was smiling to temper the reproach in his voice.

Guilt clouded her features. "I'm sorry," she whispered,
stricken. "It was only the bathroom."

"I know. I'm not mad. I'd have a hard time too, if I was
in your shoes, you know." He handed her the orange slices.
"Here, take these. Can I get you some of the Motrin?"

"How long has it been?" Her voice trembled slightly.

"Over six hours."

Scully nodded weakly.

Mulder went to the living room to get the pills and saw to
his relief that another tray had been delivered. It was a
little disconcerting, though. He wasn't entirely convinced
that they weren't being watched somehow.

Setting the tray down, he unwrapped one of the sandwiches
and handed half to Scully. She accepted it, knowing that
she couldn't keep taking Motrin on an empty stomach
without causing more problems. She didn't think that she
could handle any more problems at this point but she had
still had to literally force down each bite.

Mulder checked the refilled thermos and found apple juice.
He poured a glass for each of them and handed Scully three
Motrin.

She ate slowly, but he was pleased to see her eat, even
though he could tell that she wasn't really hungry. She
only managed half of the sandwich but took both oranges as
he refilled her glass.
 
"Enough, Mulder," Scully announced. "I can't handle
another bite."

"No problem. Has the medicine started working yet?"

"Yeah," she rubbed her chest wall absently. "How many
tablets are left?"

"Twenty-seven," he replied after counting. "Plenty."

Scully nodded. "Every six hours."

She watched as Mulder cleaned up after their meal and felt
totally helpless. "Mulder, I'm getting a little sick of
just lying in this bed. Can we go sit in the other room
and maybe talk a little?"

"Sure, Scully. On one condition." he stated matter of
factly.

She gave him the LOOK and he prepared himself for battle.

"You're going to have to let me carry you out there. We
can't afford another episode like you just had."

Scully's eyes widened in astonishment, but Mulder didn't
give her a chance to speak. "You know that. Tell me you
know that."
 
The seconds ticked silently by until she finally huffed,
her shoulders sagged in resignation. This is turning out
to be a hell of a lot more difficult than she originally
thought it'd be.

Mulder leaned in. "You know, Scully, if being in my arms
bothers you that much..." he let the words fall away in
mock despair.

Scully jerked her gaze up to his face. "That's not it and
I - know - that you know it."

"So, you - do - want to be in my arms." He let his face
light up.

"Well - yes - but - I - I mean -" Scully was floundering.

Mulder smiled smugly at Scully's inability to form a
complete sentence. <A flustered Scully was really quite
endearing, > he noted with pleasure.

"Mulder," she took a calming breath and couldn't help but
smile. "I - told - you that this was going to be awkward."

"I know, Scully. I do. Now here," Gently he reached
beneath her and as he stood, she automatically wrapped
her arms around his neck.

He took two steps towards the other room before stopping.
"Well?"

Scully's brow furrowed. "Well, what?"

"Well, how is it? Not too bad?"

He looked at her so seriously that she had to clasp a hand
over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. She then
leaned her head close to his ear and whispered. "I really
think that I could get used to this." She kissed his
cheek.

Mulder hugged her. "Good, 'cause that's my plan. "

Scully positively beamed.

Chapter 13

Mulder stepped into the living room and gently set Scully
on the couch. "Before you get too comfortable, let me go
get a pillow."

Scully smiled up at him lovingly, berating herself for
every time she had spurned Mulder's "hovering" in the
past.

When he returned, he spread the blanket over her and
placed the pillow behind her back. She scooted around so
that her feet were on the couch, tucking her knees up and
wrapping her arms around them.

Mulder settled on the opposite end and turned sideways
also so that they were facing each other. He marveled at
how very small she looked, huddled over with the blanket
pulled closely around her.

"I guess that we should review the facts as we know them,"
he began.

Scully looked at him expectantly, encouraging him with her
eyes to do the talking. He got the message and continued.

"Friday night, you and I are taken by two men who think
that we're Dr. and Mrs. Theodore Dickerson, who, by the
way, have just left town suddenly and according to Mrs.
Dickerson, unexpectedly."

"Right."

Mulder went on. "Since being brought here, no one has
spoken to us, but we've been fed and whether they heard me
yelling or what, know that you're sick and brought Motrin.
A medication that has helped some."

Scully nodded.

Mulder huffed softly, forcing himself to remain calm and
focused. "Okay, what do we know about the Dickersons?"

Scully took a breath to collect her thoughts. "Mom and
Nancy have been best friends since the fifth grade and
she's Bill's godmother."

Mulder bit back the groan. <Not good, > he thought
briefly. <Please don't let Mrs. Scully get hurt anymore by
this. >

Scully went on, unaware of Mulder's dismay. "Nancy's first
husband died about 10 years ago and Nancy was absolutely
devastated; it just about killed her. Mom helped her
through it, and encouraged Nancy to get out. Nancy used
the fortune her husband left her and became an active
philanthropist, which is how she met Ted. They married
very quickly and suddenly she is funding his research and
nothing else."

"Wait - when did she marry Ted?" Mulder broke in.

Scully paused to think. "Well, I know that I missed the
wedding, but why - ?" She struggled to trigger her memory
until at last it came to her.

Her face fell.

"What is it, Scully?" Mulder leaned forward in concern.

"She got married while I was - when I was - taken..."

Mulder looked at her in sympathy. "Sorry, Scully."

"It's okay," she said quietly. "Really."

Mulder tried to steer the conversation away from that time
period. "Did you ever meet Ted?"

Scully shook her head, her expression darkened. "According
to Mom, after the wedding they became recluses. She was a
little suspicious that Ted used Nancy just for her money
to fund his research, but she didn't know what the
research was, just that he's a geneticist."

Mulder was all ears. "Scully, before I left my place
Friday, I got a call from Byers. He was all excited about
a scientific breakthrough on the God Module made by Dr.
Theodore Dickerson."

"What!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Are you sure it's
the same man?"

"I don't know for sure." Mulder stated. "Byers gave me an
address and phone number for his lab in New Jersey."

Scully slumped back. "Then it's probably the same person."
She told him morosely. "What does all this mean?"

"Scully, I'm concerned by the fact that this guy does
research on the God Module, Gibson Praise is still missing
and now a breakthrough is made but the scientist takes off
with his wife while someone who obviously knows of his
work is after him."

Scully was shocked into silence, her eyes impossibly wide
as she contemplated the unimaginable. "Gibson," she
breathed, biting back tears of horror. "Please - no."

"What if the Consortium is after Dr. Dickerson?" Mulder
mused. "How long before they realize that they got the
wrong person? And then what? And we don't know for sure
if this Dr. Dickerson is really a good guy or some mad
scientist."

"Oh God, Mulder, what are we going to do?" Scully asked
fearfully.

Mulder didn't have a good answer at this point.

Chapter 14

By Saturday night, Walter Skinner thought that he had
accumulated all the pieces of the puzzle. <Almost all, >
he amended. The most important one of all was still
eluding him: the location of Agents Mulder and Scully.

The first piece had been a call from a sheriff who had
been relayed through a FBI field office. The sheriff told
him that construction workers who were doing renovations
on the house had called him out to the home of Dr.
Theodore Dickerson.

"The guys showed up for work this morning and when no one
answered the door, they got concerned - especially with
two cars in the driveway. They said that the front door
was unlocked and there had been some kind of struggle in
the living room. That's when they called me in. My men
are going over the place, but haven't come up with
anything except a burned dinner in the oven - which was
still on by the way. It's a damn miracle that the house
didn't burn down. Anyway, when I got ID back on the cars,
I got on the phone to the FBI and they transferred me to
you."

Skinner had thanked him and promised to send agents out to
help investigate. After assigning agents to the case, he
had reluctantly taken the next step and called Maggie
Scully.

"Oh God," Maggie said softly, recognizing his voice and
his tone.

Skinner admired her strength as she told him why Dana had
been at the Dickerson's without falling to pieces. He
didn't have children of his own and couldn't begin to
imagine being a parent to Scully, or Mulder for that
matter, after everything those two had been through. It
was hard enough being their superior. And friend?
Sometimes he wondered if he really was considered their
friend.

"I promise you, Mrs. Scully, I'm doing everything in my
power to locate them."

"I know you are," she said softly, biting back tears.
"Please, keep me informed of any progress."

"I will." Skinner stared at the wall, fist tightly around
the phone he had just hung up. Maybe he - did - know what
it was like.

The phone rang, jolting him from his musings. "Skinner."

"Director Skinner, you don't know me, but I'm a friend of
Fox Mulder."

"What can I do for you?" Skinner's tone grew wary.

"I understand that Agents Mulder and Scully are missing
and I have some information that I hope will help find
them."

<Who - is - this guy? > Skinner thought. "What kind of
information?"

"Are you aware that Dr. Theodore Dickerson is a scientist
who has been studying the God Module? I assume that you
know what that is."

Skinner felt his mouth go dry. "Of course I do," he
snapped.

The caller went on, unperturbed. "Dr. Dickerson has made
some kind of scientific breakthrough, the specifics of
which I have as yet been unable to ascertain. I gave this
information to Mulder, knowing of his interest. I hope
that by telling you, it will help to locate him."

"Listen - how did you get this information -"

The caller hung up on him.

Skinner immediately started making calls.

Byers carefully wiped down the phone booth. If the call
was traced, he didn't want to leave any sign that he'd
ever been there. He headed back home, wondering what
Langly and Frohike would do if they knew he had enlisted
Skinner's help to locate Mulder and Scully.

Chapter 15

Saturday evening in the Main House, Cap lay dozing on the
couch, a half-empty bottle of scotch an arm's length away,
and an empty glass on the floor beside it. The TV had been
left on with the sound turned all the way down.

Sarge burst in, a thin sheen of perspiration covering his
face, and ran straight to the couch. Roughly he shook Cap
awake.

"Cap - Cap wake up!"

"Huh - wha -" Cap grunted incoherently as he struggled to
sit up and gather his wits about him. The liquor, however,
had managed to muddle his brain, coat his mouth and glue
his eyes shut quite effectively. "Take it easy, man.
What's the hell's the matter with you?"

"Cap - come on - wake up. The Boss just pulled into the
compound." Sarge warned urgently.

That was the splash of cold water that Cap needed to get
going. Like a flash, he was on his feet, carefully
scooting the bottle and glass under the couch. He went to
the window and watched the Ford Explorer move slowly past
the Main House and go directly to the Visitors' Quarters.
Cap's expression immediately darkened.

"Take a breather, Sarge," he told him. He watched the Boss
exit the vehicle. "Off to see Dani first," he muttered
bitterly.

Sarge stepped up and looked over Cap's shoulder.

"Got to make sure ol' Cap and Sarge didn't screw up and
hurt the good doc." Cap continued to curse under his
breath.

"Should we wait here?" Sarge asked hesitantly. When Cap
was in this kind of mood, anything could set him off.

"Yeah. Dani can take care of the Boss." Cap huffed before
returning to the couch. He grabbed the remote, searching
until he found a baseball game and turned up the volume.
He resisted the urge to retrieve the scotch. He didn't
have a death wish, after all.

Sarge looked over uneasily, unsure what to do. Finally he
decided to join Cap and watch the game.

Meanwhile, Dani was standing at the door to greet the
Boss, extending the ever-present pad and pen. The Boss
took them without looking and went directly to the bank of
monitors that lined one wall. Each of the rooms in VQ had
a tiny camera but only one was currently in use and that
was the one the Boss focused on.

The Boss had to keep from screaming aloud.

<The fools! Idiots! > Vile epithets poured from lips thin
with rage.

Dani stood watching, without expression as the Boss' rage
filled the room. She watched a clenched fist pound the
console and did not blink.

The Boss looked over at Dani, cheeks red, eyes blazing
then began writing. The pen flew across the paper.

Dani kept her face neutral as she watched the Boss' lips
moving and when the note was completed, the Boss simply
stormed out.

Dani smiled. Cap and Sarge had made their final mistake
and it would ultimately turn out to be fatal for them. She
picked up the note.

Those 2 aren't the Dickersons.

Dani's smile broadened. She, of course, was aware of that
little tidbit of information.

Stay here and await further instructions.

Dani sat down again in front of the monitor. She was aware
now of what the Boss had planned for Mulder and Scully.
The question was what to do about it. She stared at the
FBI agents in the living room. Mulder had positioned
himself behind Scully and had enveloped her in his arms.

Dani sighed in relief. She had been worried earlier,
before the Boss' arrival, that Mulder would hurt himself
as he had finally vented his rage at their captivity,
nearly demolishing the rooms looking for an escape. Scully
had shown remarkable restraint as she watched, her face
unknowingly mirroring Dani's concerned countenance. When
Mulder had at last admitted defeat, she had simply held
out her hand, beckoning him over.

Dani had watched as Mulder let his shoulders slump,
dejected and fatigued and trying to catch his breath. He
had taken Scully's hand, kissed it, then went to take a
quick shower. Hating that he'd had to put on the same
clothes he'd been wearing before was evident to Dani by
the expression of distaste on his face. He'd then joined
Scully on the couch and that tableau had been what had set
the Boss into a rage.

Dani settled down to wait.

Cap and Sarge both started violently when they heard the
front door slam shut. They barely had time to jump to
their feet and turn off the TV before the Boss stormed in.

Neither one of them was prepared for the fury that
emanated from the Boss like heat from the sun.

Sarge shrank back in reflex when the Boss' eyes found him
and locked on. "Go to VQ, pump in the gas, knock them both
out and put the woman in a different room." The order was
spoken with a voice so low, so quiet, and so dangerous
that Sarge actually shuddered and felt the blood drain
from his face. The Boss' rage-filled eyes transfixed him
like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
When he continued to just stand there, the Boss instantly
and smoothly whipped out a Glock and pointed it at his
head.

"Now!"

At the bark, Sarge took off like a shot, without looking
back, expecting to feel the bullet any second.

<Something's wrong! > His terrified mind kept repeating
and he began to wonder if he shouldn't just take off after
doing what the Boss wanted. He was pretty sure at this
point that no bonus money was forthcoming and he wasn't
prepared to die. He made it to the supply room and got the
tank and tubing and went to work.

Chapter 16

The Boss waited until Sarge was gone before taking a deep
breath and turning to Cap and pointed the Glock at him
with a steady hand. Dark eyes glared menacingly at Cap's
shocked face and he instinctively raised his hands in a
defensive posture, struggling mightily to understand what
was going on. <What had gone wrong? >

"Is - is the doc okay?" he asked fearfully and hating
that he showed fear.

"I wouldn't know," the Boss replied with a voice that
dripped venom.

Cap shook his head. This wasn't right. "I don't
understand. Didn't you just go to VQ?"

<Wrong thing to say, > his brain informed him when the
Boss snapped and he found himself stumbling backwards. The
Boss had pushed him with a strength augmented by pure rage
and Cap fell over an end table, landing with a bone-
jarring thud. He grunted in pain and immediately tasted
blood after biting his tongue. Wincing, he turned his head
to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged
saliva. When he turned back to the Boss, he saw that the
Glock was now inches from his face.

"You worthless piece of shit." the Boss hissed furiously.
"You two jerks did not capture Dr. Dickerson!"

"What!?" It was the only word he could get out, his tongue
rapidly swelling and interfering with his speech.

The Boss kicked out, connecting with Cap's thigh. The
terrified man moaned and grabbed his leg.

"You heard me. You managed to capture two FBI agents!"

"What?" Cap repeated stupidly, shaking his head and trying
to get some kind of handle on his pain and confusion.
<That couldn't be right. This wasn't happening. > He was
supposed to be home free. What had gone wrong?

"Next time, I suggest that you get pictures instead of
just addresses, you asshole!" The icy disdain in the voice
melted into a blood-curdling sneer. "Oh - but wait. There
won't - be - a next time, now will there?"

Cap's eyes widened in mortal fear.

They were still open when the bullets entered his
brain.

Death was instant. His brain was gone. The only mercy the
Boss allowed.

The Boss went to the window to watch for Sarge. Now, all
that was left was to wait for the man to separate Mulder
and Scully. This could still work out. The other team
members thankfully were continuing to search for Dr.
Dickerson and with Mulder here, plans could be stepped up.
Scully was a mere annoyance that was about to be
eliminated.

A feral smile touched the Boss' lips. Fox Mulder would
never know what hit him.

Chapter 17

Dani activated the monitor to the room adjacent to Mulder
and Scully's, watching Sarge set up his equipment. He had
already closed the vents and soon he was piping in the gas
that would ensure the prisoners' cooperation. He waited a
full half-hour before turning of the gas, donning a gas
mask and entering the room, going directly to the couch.

He stood over the two people he had believed would be his
salvation and the answer to all his prayers and wondered,
not for the first time, what had gone so wrong. With a
shake of his head, he went to work. <I got to quit
screwing around and just get the hell out of here, > he
reminded himself. No time for recriminations now.

Despite their unconscious state, Sarge moved with stealth,
noting the man's protectiveness in his embrace. Very
slowly, he moved first one, then the other of Mulder's
arms away from Scully's torso. Mulder's breathing remained
quiet and he did not stir at all. Not even when Sarge slid
his arms under Scully's knees and shoulders and lifted her
up. Scully, too, remained oblivious as she was taken away
from her partner while Dani watched it all and made final
plans of her own.

Sarge placed Scully in a cell two doors down from Mulder,
unaware that Dani was watching his every move. He made
sure that Scully's pulse and breathing was steady and that
the door was securely locked before going to double-check
on Mulder. Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly ran to
his own quarters

Dani peeked out her window and caught sight of the Boss,
standing on the second story balcony of the Main House.
She went back to the monitors in time to see Sarge driving
off in the unmarked ambulance, the only other vehicle
besides the Boss' Explorer. Dani was not surprised that
the Boss let him go. Sarge was not a
real danger to the Boss' operation and he would be easy to
track down. Dani had no doubt that the Sarge was as good
as dead. All it would take was one phone call.

Chapter 18

Even before he opened his eyes, Mulder knew that something
was different - wrong. Terribly wrong. Keeping his eyes
closed and his breathing regular, he lay very still and
tried to figure out what it was. First of all, his head
seemed a little fuzzy, he felt a little hungover and that
he hadn't eaten in days. As far as he could tell, he was
still on the couch but Scully had definitely moved. He
distinctly remembered that she had been lying alongside
him and now she seemed to be sitting on the floor, resting
her head on his chest.

<Maybe that's it. > He reassured himself. <She had gotten
up without waking him again and when she returned had sat
on the floor instead of the couch. >

His breath caught in his throat. <No. That wasn't
possible. Dana Scully wasn't tall enough to pull that move
off. >

His eyes flew open and he found himself staring at black
hair fanned out across his shirt.

"Shit!" he cried out in disgust, scrambling back off the
couch with as much gusto as if he'd found a rattlesnake
coiled up on top of him.

The owner of the black hair looked up at him.

And smiled.

"Fox."

Chapter 19

"Diana?" Mulder stared at her in utter shock and nearly
choked. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

Diana Fowley smiled up at him indulgently. "Well I was
beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."
She yawned, discreetly covering her mouth. "Sorry, I must
have dozed off."

Where's Scully?" Mulder demanded, struggling to keep his
temper under control as he looked around for his partner.

Fowley look up at him with an expression of surprise.
"Scully's here, too?"

Mulder reached down and grabbed her arm. Ignoring Fowley's
look of wonder, he roughly jerked her to her feet. "Don't
play dumb with me, Diana, it doesn't suit you at all. Now
where is she?" he barked.

"Fox, please. Settle down" she commanded. "I don't know
what you're talking about." She met his gaze head on.

Mulder's eyes bored through her, desperately struggling to
comprehend. He forced himself to stay calm. He couldn't
show his anger, his rage. It was obviously too risky at
this point. Scully. That was his priority. He had to
focus.

"Fine. Then let's start with what you do know. Where have
you been and what are you doing here now?" He asked,
careful to keep his tone low.

Fowley reached up and pried her arm out of Mulder's grip.
"For your information, I've been on special assignment -
deep undercover - looking for Gibson."

Mulder clenched his jaw and forced himself not to react.

"I'm here because I got a lead," she continued, "but
you're all I've found so far."

"Where is 'here', might I ask?" Mulder folded his arms
and kept his voice low and controlled.

"A compound on a tiny island, off the Virginia coast. What
are you doing here, Fox?" Fowley queried.

Mulder had his answer ready. "I don't know. Scully and I
were attacked, drugged and brought here by two men. No
one's spoken to us since we got here on Friday night." he
answered smoothly conveniently eliminating the fact that
they'd been misidentified as Dr. and Mrs. Dickerson.

Fowley's brow furrowed. "Well, right now it's Sunday
afternoon, almost 3:00."

Mulder felt his gut twist. The last thing that he
remembered was Saturday night, around 11:00. <Where was
Scully? How long had she been gone? > He headed for the
door.

"Fox, where are you going?" Fowley called out as she
hurried after him.

"Where the hell do you think - to find Scully." Mulder
reached for the doorknob but Fowley darted around in front
of him and blocked his way.

"Fox - no!" She looked into his eyes, pleading with him.

"What do you mean - 'no'? I've got to find her." He moved
to push her aside, but Fowley placed both hands on his
shoulders.

"It's too late, Fox." she said quietly but firmly.

"What do you mean it's too late? What in the hell are you
talking about? You just got finished telling me that you
didn't know that she was here. So which one is it Diana?"
He was almost shouting and he had to restrain himself as
the urge to reach out and throttle her nearly overwhelmed
him.

"She's dead, Fox. They killed her while she was trying to
escape."

Mulder simply stared at her in dumbfounded horror and
disbelief. The news hit him like a sucker punch, stealing
his voice. His heart was out of control, banging loudly in
his chest. "No," he whispered brokenly.

Fowley lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, Fox. I - I - should
have told you right away, but I just couldn't - I -" She
shook her head.

"I don't believe you," Mulder said in a strangled
voice that he barely recognized as his own. "Why -
should - I believe you?"

Fowley actually had the nerve to look offended. "Believe
what you want to, Fox. But it would be wise for you - to -
believe me." She ran her hands up and down his arms. "Fox,
it's over. It's all over. Come back with me." She pleaded.
"There's nothing to hold you back now. Come with me and
together we'll find everything that you've been looking
for."

Mulder's head was spinning. <Cancerman. CGB Spender had
wanted me to join him. The cigarette smoking man had made
me the very same offer. That's it. I'm out of here. >
Without hesitation he again reached out for the door, but
Fowley was quicker. With one smooth move, she grabbed
Mulder's arm and jerked him back, all the while reaching
for her Glock that she'd kept hidden under her sweater.
Suddenly, Mulder found himself looking down the barrel in
to Fowley's eyes, which had become cold and unforgiving.

It was a look that Mulder had never seen on her face
before and he definitely wasn't prepared to see it now. He
thought about wrestling her for the gun, but dismissed the
notion out of hand. She was a trained FBI agent and as she
stood before him, she seemed to be looking for an excuse
to shoot. <But would she - really - shoot me? >

Fowley read the thought in his eyes. "Don't think for one
second that I won't do it, Fox. Don't ever doubt that. You
have a choice to make. You can do this the easy way or you
can die. Right here, and right now."

Mulder's mouth dropped. When? When had she become the
unspeakable enemy? The very worst of THEM? He searched
desperately for the tiniest hint of the person he'd known
and trusted. And failed.

Chapter 20

Scully moaned softly as consciousness returned to her
bringing with it awareness and with awareness came pain.
She moaned again and weakly brought her hand up to her
face, rubbing her eyes in an effort to get them open.
Distantly she realized that her fever had returned also,
with a vengeance, but she pushed that aside for now.

<One thing at a time, > she thought as she forced her eyes
open. Squinting against the glare of the bathroom light,
she looked over, expecting to see Mulder stretched out
beside her.

The fact that he was nowhere in sight and that she was in
bed as opposed to the couch that she remembered, gave her
the strength that she needed to pull herself to a sitting
position. It felt as though she was moving through
quicksand and as soon as she was upright, she wished that
she had just kept flat. She managed to call out once for
Mulder, her voice thin and hoarse, when an avalanche of
dizziness and nausea cut off her second cry. She clamped a
hand to her mouth as she scrambled off the bed and
staggered drunkenly towards the bathroom. The floor seemed
to slide out from under her feet and she felt herself
falling. Grabbing nothing but air, she collapsed, a
burning, tearing pain flashed throughout her entire body,
even setting her lungs on fire. Weak, dizzy, and drenched
with sweat, she lay facedown, unable to move and barely
able to breathe. The light quickly dimmed and then there
was nothing.

Chapter 21

Dani slipped deeper into the shadows, escaping the Boss'
notice for now. She glanced down at her watch: almost
2:00. She knew that she didn't have much time as she
watched the Boss enter Mulder's room.

<The end is coming, > she thought with satisfaction

She waited a couple of minutes more, then raced to
Scully's room. She found the agent lying face down on the
floor, unmoving. Gently she turned Scully over and was
relieved to find that she was conscious but too weak to
get up on her own.

"Mulder," Scully murmured, her vision blurred. She blinked
several times and tried to focus on the face above her.

"Not Mulder. My name's Danielle. I'm here to help. Come
on, let's get you to the bed."

Scully struggled to comprehend. "Where's Mulder?"

Dani didn't answer. "Come on, Agent Scully," she urged as
she pulled Scully up. Scully groaned, the sudden movement
renewing the throbbing in her head. Dani guided Scully
back to the bed. Scully struggled to take the necessary
steps even as her lips trembled with the effort and her
head continued to pound unmercilessly. Dani got her
settled
in a reclining position then hurried to the bathroom and
filled a glass with water. She returned to find Scully
staring at her, more lucid, her chest rising and falling
rapidly.

"Who are you? Where's Mulder?"

Dani could see the effort it was costing her to keep her
voice steady in an attempt to appear in control.

"I'm here to help you," she repeated as she placed three
Motrin tablets in Scully's hand. "Quickly, Agent Scully so
that they can start to work."

Scully eyed them suspiciously before swallowing them, but
it took a monstrous effort to keep them down. A cold wind
seemed to have swept through her and she was shaking all
over and her teeth kept chattering together, making even
her jaws ache as she clenched them tight.

Dani watched her anxiously. "Agent Scully, I know that
this is hard, but you've got to trust me. We've got to
hurry. There isn't much time left. The Boss has rigged
this entire place to blow and I've got to get to Agent
Mulder."

Scully struggled to pull herself up. "Where is Mulder?"

"He's still in the room that you started in, but I've got
to get to him...he doesn't know what he's going up
against."

"I'm going with you," Scully announced with grim
determination, her voice strained.

Dani shook her head. "No - no you're not. I've got to get
you to the escape tunnel. I'm the only one that's going to
handle the Boss." She gave Scully the glass of water and
encouraged her to drink some more.

"You've got to get down to the beach," she continued.
"That's where the help is going to arrive. I couldn't risk
bringing them up here." She took a breath. "I know you
have loads of questions and doubts but there simply isn't
any time."

"I'm not leaving Mulder." Scully insisted stubbornly.

Dani sighed. "Don't worry about Mulder. I intend for him
to be right behind you. Look, I've taken care of you this
far and I won't let anything happen now if I can help it.
You're just going to have to trust me."

Scully fought to concentrate on what Dani was telling her
as she continued to sip the cool water. The pain in her
chest was making it difficult to breathe. "What -"

"Don't talk," Dani admonished her, "just rest a little bit
longer."

Dani sat with her until 2:20. "Has the Motrin started
working?"

Scully nodded once.

"Okay, let's go." Dani helped Scully to her feet, holding
her securely around the waist as Scully wobbled on
unreliable legs. She looked completely out of it.

"You can do this, Agent Scully, " Dani said with more
confidence than she actually felt. "I know you can."

Scully bit her lip as she focused on each step,
willing Dani's words to be true as she was led out into
the corridor.

Chapter 22

Dani held a finger to her lips and Scully nodded in
understanding. The two women walked quietly through the
nearly empty corridor with Scully hanging on to Dani for
dear life.

Scully kept her eyes on her feet, concentrating on each
step, blindly letting Dani lead her, trusting her with
hers and Mulder's lives. Despite the Motrin, the dreadful
ache in her chest had shot up into her jaw and down both
arms. The pain was making it hard to breathe and even
harder to think, but Scully resolutely pushed past it with
a strength born on her love for Mulder. She was not going
to die. Not here. Not when there was still so much
unfinished business.

At the end of the corridor, they came to a room with a
door that was different from the others.

"This leads to a tunnel that will take you out," Dani
whispered. "It actually opens up on the cliff about fifty
feet above the beach, but it's a fairly easy climb; lots
of rocks and handholds."

Scully shook her head, panting with the effort. "I can't
do it. Not without Mulder. I'm not leaving here without
Mulder."

Dani gnawed on her lower lip and gave up. "Okay. Fine.
Just wait right here. Don't move. I'll get Mulder and be
right back."

Scully watched her leave, sliding down the wall to a
sitting position and desperately fought back the darkness.

Chapter 23

Mulder opened his mouth to speak when the steel door
silently swung open. Although the movement caught Fowley
by surprise, she retained the presence of mind to keep her
gun trained on him. Fowley glanced over and saw to her
surprise that it was Dani. Then she did a double take.
Dani had a gun pointed right at her head.

Mulder, despite his fear and anger was intrigued. "Who
are you?"

"Don't bother, Fox," Fowley said coldly. "She's of no
concern to you. Besides, she's deaf and dumb."

The young woman, who looked to be about twenty, took one
step forward into the room. Her green eyes flashed. "Don't
be too sure about that, Boss."

Now it was Fowley's turn to be shocked. Mulder almost
laughed in spite of the circumstances at the look of
comical surprise that Fowley was unable to mask. And still
her gun never wavered.

"What's the matter, Boss - cat got your tongue?" Dani
taunted.

Fowley's face morphed and the rage contorted her features
into a gruesome sight. "You little lying bitch," she
seethed. "All these years you let me think you were so
traumatized by your father's death. How could you?"

"How's that for the pot calling the kettle black. You -
you're the only 'bitch' in this room. Did you actually
think that I wouldn't find out that you were part of it
all? You killed my father as surely as if you'd pulled
the trigger yourself and then tried to ease your
conscience by taking care of the 'poor, grieving
daughter'."

Dani's fury eclipsed Fowley's and Mulder could see that it
was taking every ounce of restraint not to pull the
trigger.

"Revenge - will - be mine." Dani announced triumphantly.

"Who was your father?" Mulder asked in an attempt to
diffuse the situation with the calm of desperation. He
thought that it was incredible that he could still think
and function knowing that it could already be too late.
This stand off, however, was not getting him any closer to
locating his partner.

Dani kept her gun trained on Fowley. "You knew him as Deep
Throat."

"What?" Mulder couldn't have been more shocked than if
she'd said that her father was one of the aliens.

"Look - enough of this." Fowley snapped.

Mulder, however, wanted so much more: he had never learned
Deep Throat's real name or anything about him. What was
Diana's part in all of this? There was so much information
that this young woman could give him but Fowley never gave
her the chance. In the blink of an eye, Fowley brought her
Glock around and squeezed the trigger.

Dani took the lightning bolt point blank in her chest. She
spun around so that she was lying face down across the
threshold. She never made a sound as her own gun flew from
her lifeless hand out into the hallway. She was dead
before she hit the floor.

Mulder cried out and moved to go to her but Fowley stopped
him. "Don't do it, Fox. It's over." She kept the Glock
pointed at his own broken heart.

He froze. So this is how far she was willing to go. He
hadn't been 100% sure before. He was now. He looked over
at the body of the young woman and as he watched her blood
seep out around her, he realized sadly that he didn't even
know her name either.

"How could you, Diana?" He asked mournfully. It struck
him that maybe she hadn't been lying about Scully. <Then
she might as well shoot me, too. > He again moved towards
the door when two shots rang out almost simultaneously.

Mulder went down instantly as the bullet pierced his left
side and the searing pain ripped a cry from his lips.
Rolling painfully onto his back, he reached down to probe
his injury, keeping his eyes closed. He'd made the mistake
in the past of seeing himself shot and had nearly passed
out at the sight. <Through and through, > he realized
sickly. The bullet had ripped through him right above his
waist.

"Mulder." A thin whisper caught his attention.

<No! It couldn't be! Could it? >

His hazel eyes flew open. "Scully!" he cried out, an
incredulous look on his face. <She's alive! > He thought
joyfully, staring up at her as she knelt before him. His
own pain took a backseat to his overwhelming relief.

Scully managed a small smile before turning serious.
"Mulder, we have to get out of here. This place is rigged
to explode," she said as she checked his injury.

Mulder looked over and saw Diana lying in a pool of her
own blood several feet away. Mulder frowned. <How can
that be? > he thought fuzzily, then remembered that he'd
heard two shots.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't faster," Scully said softly,
keeping all emotions from her voice as she noticed the
look on his face and misinterpreting its meaning.

"Don't be," Mulder told her firmly. "I'm just thankful
that you were there. I'm the one who's sorry that you had
to do that." He looked up at her, struck by the deathly
pallor of her face, her eyes dull with pain. <Enough. >
They'd figure this all out later. Time to get moving. Now.

Chapter 24

Scully checked Mulder's pulse: steady and strong, a bit
faster than usual. She reassessed his wound and saw that
there was bruising all along his left flank following the
path of the bullet as it had traveled beneath the skin.
With a silent prayer that it had missed his kidney and
spleen, she continued to hold pressure to the exit wound,
which had seeped a thin trickle of blood.

"I'm okay, Scully," Mulder attempted to reassure her," it
just hurts like a bear." He grimaced as he pulled himself
to a sitting position.

Scully, of course, could tell that it hurt a lot more than
that. He was pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered his
face.

"Do you know the way out of here?" he asked as he
staggered to his feet. "Diana said that we're on an
island."

Scully sat back on her heels. "Down the hall, to the
left. There's a gray door. She said that there's a
tunnel that opens out on the cliff and the beach was
about fifty feet below."

Mulder huffed in frustration. Scully was in no condition
to go rockclimbing and he certainly wasn't in the best
shape right now either.

Scully read his thoughts easily. "We can do it, Mulder -
together. Besides, we don't have much choice. I don't
know how long we have left before this place self-
destructs." She paused to catch her breath. "Help is
coming, but it's going to the beach - away from the
explosion."

Mulder nodded. "Right. Let me make sure that the coast
is clear." He picked up the gun Scully had used to fell
Diana and stepped cautiously out into the hall.

Scully found herself alone with the two dead women and
shuddered. She would never have believed that Fowley was
capable of this. It didn't matter what she thought of her
before - this was unreal. And Danielle. She had
basically given her life to help them.

She caught sight of Fowley's gun and wondered if she
should take it for evidence. <Yes, > she determined
quickly, stripping Fowley's holster, putting it on and
gingerly sliding the Glock in place, careful not to smudge
any prints.

She met Mulder at the door. His eyes narrowed when he
saw what she'd done but realized at once that it was
necessary. Scully neither apologized nor tried to comfort
him. She had to do this. She had to close the book on
Agent Diana Fowley and this was going to do it.

"Coast is clear." Mulder said simply, then took her hand
and led her down the hallway. When he reached the door,
he yanked it open, using his good right arm. His left
side was one burning pain that intensified with movement
and even breathing.

He looked inside. Beyond the gray door was an empty room
lay out like the others except that the back wall was
solid rock. Scully caught sight of the opening in the far
right corner and silently pointed it out to Mulder. Gun
drawn, he advanced cautiously as Scully stayed back to
keep the door propped open, as there didn't seem to be any
light fixtures. Mulder crouched before the opening. It
was about four feet wide and tall; they'd have to crawl.
He moved inside and strained his eyes and was able to make
out the opening some ten yards ahead, a pinpoint of light.
He motioned Scully over. She stepped over and dropped to
her knees, making it just as the door closed, plunging the
room into darkness.

Scully froze until she felt Mulder's hand reach out and
touch her shoulder.

"Just a second, Scully," he said quietly, "give your eyes
a chance to adjust. The opening of the tunnel is ahead."

Scully blinked several times until she, too, could see the
exit. "I'm ready," she panted softly.

Mulder didn't respond. He didn't think that she was
anywhere near ready, but there was nothing else that he
could do or say. Instead, he shifted around and began
crawling, relieved to hear Scully right behind him. But
then his imagination played a cruel trick and for one
terrifying minute he was back in the vent in the
Antarctic, the embryonic creature having just burst from
its pod. He could actually hear the inhuman shriek and
see the razor-sharp claws and deadly fangs as it chased
them through the vent. His heart beating wildly, he
grunted painfully and pushed the memory away. <It's just
Scully - nothing else - just Scully. >

"Mulder?" Scully's voice strained and worried floated up
to his ears.

He shook his head. "Nothing, Scully," he lied. "We're
almost there."

Indeed, the light was much brighter and he could hear the
waves crashing below.

In the enclosed tunnel, his own ragged breathing was
amplified in his ears as well as Scully's desperate
wheezing. The pain in his side was unrelenting and he
attempted to crawl using only his right arm and leg in
an effort to take some of the strain off the injured
muscles.

They exited the tunnel and Mulder helped Scully to a
standing position. He looked out over the beach to the
ocean beyond. Scully stood by his side, letting the salty
air sweep over her before looking down.

<Oh my God! > Fifty feet. It looked like a bottomless
pit. <I can't do it. I can't. > She thought frantically,
biting her lip to keep the negative words from escaping
and clutched convulsively at Mulder's arm. Her legs felt
like rubber and her palms slick with sweat.

Mulder recognized and understood Scully's terror. He was
just as worried as she was, but there was no turning back
now. They had to go down.

"Just do what I do, Scully," he told her as he took a step
down. "I'll be one step ahead of you - always within
reach."

Scully swallowed hard, her eyes wide, and nodded. After
the first two steps, she realized that Danielle had been
right. There were plenty of footholds and rocks to hold
on to. Mulder, too, was encouraged even though the going
was slow and nerve-wracking. He would step down first,
make sure that the rock was solid then reach up and
carefully guide Scully down.

After twenty feet, Scully held up her hand. "Wait-" she
gasped, hunched over, trusting Mulder to keep her from
tumbling down to the sandy beach below. "I - I - just -
need -"

Minute by minute, her breaths were becoming shorter, her
grips not as secure, the handholds became more slippery.
She could feel the sharp rocks through the lightweight
slippers that she still wore and her chiffon dress was
ripped in several places where it had snagged on the same
sharp rocks. Her body was stiffening up and the wind had
increased causing her hair to fly across her face,
blinding her. She felt as though someone had stabbed her
in the chest with a white-hot knife. The nausea and
physical exertion bathed her body in sweat.

Struggling for each breath, she held on by sheer reflex
and somehow managed to stay upright. With strength she
didn't know she possessed, she was able to keep the
darkness at bay just a little bit longer.

Mulder, too, was feeling the strain. His left side was on
fire. Waves of cramping pain had begun to shoot through
his entire body sapping of the strength he so desperately
needed. He kept expecting the explosion every second as
he let Scully try and catch her breath. He wasn't sure
how she was holding on and it scared him even more. Time
was running out at an alarming rate. They had to get on
solid ground.

Then another sound caught his attention. He looked back
over his right shoulder and saw three helicopters in the
distance, heading their way.

Mulder sagged with relief. "Scully, here comes the
Calvary." He said a silent prayer of thanks as Scully
bowed her head in acknowledgment, unable to speak.

Then, without warning, he slipped. His foot went first,
sliding off the edge of the niche that he had thought was
safe. Instantly, his grips gave way as he slid another
fifteen feet, slamming his left elbow against a small
protruding rock and skinning his knees and chin.

"Mulder!" Scully cried out in helpless horror.

Kicking and clawing frantically at a shallow crevice,
Mulder came to a stop. Gasping, he fought to bring
himself to a more secure spot. His elbow and knees while
not broken were throbbing unmercilessly. He could hear
the helicopters getting closer. Looking up at Scully, his
stomach clenched. Could she get down to him without help?
He didn't think so.

He opened his mouth to call to her, when he saw her double
over on the narrow rock. Scully gasped as the agonizing
pain encircled her chest like a vise. There was to be no
reprieve this time. It consumed her completely. It took
her breath, her voice. She lost all control of her hands,
her feet, and consciousness vanished in the blink of an
eye. She didn't feel herself falling.

"Scully!" Mulder shouted - his arm shooting out to catch
her and drag her in.

He wasn't even close.

Scully's body tumbled past him like a rag doll thrown down
by a petulant child. Before he could take another step
down, the compound exploded with an ear-shattering boom.
The cliff shook, tearing his hands free and he lost his
balance, crashing to the beach below, barely missing his
fallen partner. He blacked out.

Chapter 25

Sitting in the co-pilot's seat in the lead helicopter,
A. D. Walter Skinner forced himself to stay calm and
focused. They were almost there. The tiny island was in
sight.

Two of the three helicopters were filled with members of
the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team. The HRT was an elite group
with punishing physical requirements that turned out
highly skilled agents, in a similar vein as the Navy
Seals. Skinner tried to take comfort in that fact as the
tension inside him rose with every passing second.

The third helicopter was loaded with flight doctors and
nurses and enough emergency equipment to turn the chopper
into an emergency room with wings.

Skinner ground his teeth, knowing that the caller had
warned him that Agent Scully was ill. He hoped to God
that there were survivors of this calamity. He -really-
hoped to talk to whoever had kidnapped Mulder and Scully
in the first place.

"There, sir! Up ahead on the cliff!"

The agent's voice in his headset startled him and Skinner
gratefully accepted the binoculars placed in his hands. He
quickly raised them to his eyes and adjusted the focus.
It took only a minute to spot his two missing agents
clinging desperately to the side of the cliff.

<Oh shit! > He thought, as he watched Mulder guide Scully
down the rocks. Keeping the high-powered lens pressed
firmly against his face, he had a front-row seat to the
drama unfolding before him. The closer that they got, the
more details that he was able to discern: Scully's slow,
sluggish movements, the blood on Mulder's clothes.

When Mulder slid down the rock face, he had to resist the
urge to reach out to the younger man and clamped his mouth
shut against the shout that almost escaped his lips. The
pilot, too, saw the trouble Mulder was in and tried to get
more speed out of the jet helicopter. He was calculating
the best angle to come in at when Scully fell.

The binoculars still in place, Skinner could see every
horrifying detail. He saw that Scully had lost
consciousness before she fell, since her eyes were already
closed. He knew that he'd never forget the look on
Mulder's face as he watched his partner drop to the beach
below.

Everyone was so engrossed in the plight of Mulder and
Scully that when the bomb detonated, they were taken
completely by surprise. It seemed as though the entire
top of the island was consumed in a blaze of white light
followed by a thick curtain of smoke. Skinner and the HRT
watched the scene unfold before them as if in slow motion,
stunned by the sudden thunder of the explosion. The
resultant shock wave hit the helicopters with enough force
that the pilots had to use every skill ever learned to
keep control and land safely on the beach.

Chapter 26

By unspoken agreement, it had been decided that Dr. Jason
Barton would take care of the female agent, Scully while
Dr. Peter Hayes would tend to her partner, Mulder. Jason
was the senior officer and had cross-trained in
Cardiology, becoming Board Certified in both Emergency
Medicine as well as Cardiology.

On the flight over, they had thoroughly studied Agent
Scully's medical file, having been briefed by A. D.
Skinner on the caller's description of her current
condition. Jason had to agree that it certainly sounded
like pericarditis and when he saw her tumble down the face
of the cliff, he suspected the worst. Cardiac tamponade.
The infected fluid had collected between the cardiac
muscle and the pericardial membrane surrounding it,
reaching the point where the mounting pressure had
compromised the pumping and filling power of the heart.
He quickly prepared his team members - he was more than
likely going to have to perform an emergency
percardiocentesis out here in the field. The team members
tensed. Inserting an EKG-guided needle through the upper
abdomen, the diaphragm and finally piercing the
pericardium
was a risky, potentially fatal maneuver under ideal
circumstances.

"We have no choice, people. We don't do it now and she
will die. Period." He refused to consider that she
hadn't survived the fall. That was -not- an option. He
reviewed what everyone's role would be and what equipment
he wanted ready.

Peter Hayes had seen the blood on Mulder's clothes and
his crash landing after the bomb detonated and had also
prepped his own team. They were as ready as they were
ever going to be.

After the hair-raising jolt they'd experienced when the
shockwave hit, the choppers landed safely on the beach and
everyone spilled out, knowing what their job was and
hurrying to do it.

The medical team swarmed Mulder and Scully, while the
HRT searched for survivors as well as any evidence that
might have survived the blast.

Skinner remained with his two agents, careful to stay out
of the way as the doctors and nurses went to work with a
controlled urgency. There was nothing that he could do
and yet he wasn't about to leave them now.

Jason reached Scully first and performed his first
assessment in less than a minute after carefully turning
her over. Airway: patent. Breathing: shallow, she was
becoming cyanotic and her jugular veins were distended.
Circulation: no distal pulses. Obvious deformity right
leg.

"Move in, people, let's go! Somebody splint that right
leg!"

For Skinner it was a blur. Faster than he'd have thought
possible, Scully was intubated, hooked up to an EKG
monitor, had two IV lines inserted and her right leg
immobilized.

Jason had prepped the spot on her abdomen where he would
insert the 18gauge, 3 1/2-inch cardiac needle, when he
heard someone call out that there was no blood pressure
and that the EKG showed sinus tachycardia. He was set.

Jason took a deep breath, refusing to look at his
patient's face, then plunged the needle into the white
skin under his fingers. Slowly but deliberately he moved
the needle forward, his eyes darting back and forth
between his patient and the EKG looking for any sign that
his aim was off. Suddenly, he was in.

He could see the blood at the hub of the needle and
gently aspirated the fluid, filling the syringe with
twenty cc's before hearing those incredible words:

"I've got a pulse!" One of the nurses called out
joyfully.

Jason coolly acknowledged her and carefully removed the
fluid-filled syringe. He handed it off with instructions
to save the fluid for further tests and culture. <Walk in
the park, > he muttered to himself, in an effort to calm
his own racing pulse. The woman lying before him could
have died in an instant and there wouldn't have been a
damn thing that he could have done about it. <But she
didn't. > he had to remind himself. And as far as he was
concerned, that was all that mattered.

Skinner had caught snatches of the life-saving procedure
being performed on Scully and breathed his own sigh of
relief when he glimpsed the flicker of relief as well as
fear on the doctor's face. That look told him more than
anything else just how close Scully had come to dying
right there before his eyes.

He glanced over and saw that an equally efficient team was
tending to Mulder. While Scully was being loaded into one
gurney, Mulder was already immobilized and strapped down
to another. He, too, had an IV inserted and while he was
breathing on his own, he had yet to regain consciousness.

Protocol dictated that he remain with HRT and as he
watched them reload the helicopter with his two agents, he
was extremely tempted to say the hell with protocol.

<Wouldn't Mulder love that? > he thought briefly, before
turning back towards the cliff. He'd do his duty. He
always did. <Well, almost always, > he allowed. Slip-ups
almost always occurred when Mulder was involved. Scully,
too. He walked resolutely away from the chopper knowing
that he'd be useless at the hospital and he didn't want to
call Mrs. Scully until he had something more to report.

<Coward. > he berated himself then pushed the thought
away.

The medical-evac chopper took off behind him and Skinner
never looked back.

Chapter 27

Dr. Peter Hayes kept a close eye on his patient as the
helicopter took off. If asked, he would list the agent in
"fair" condition. Personally, he considered the agent
lucky, relatively speaking of course. He checked the
dressings that he'd applied over the gunshot wounds, which
had continued to ooze blood, and judging by the amount on
his clothes, he had lost at least a liter.

"Run the normal saline wide open and when it's in, give
him another liter at 150cc/hr."

The nurse nodded and rolled the clamp up on the IV tubing,
letting the fluid infuse at an unrestricted rate, then
reached over for another bag to have ready.

Peter rechecked his patient's pupils: equal and reactive
to light. Good sign.

Through a barrage of pain, the muffled voices and the roar
of the helicopter worked their way into Mulder's
consciousness. Despite the pain, he tried to move and
found that he could not. A guttural sound escaped his
lips, catching the nurse's attention. She nudged Dr.
Hayes.

Peter noticed the ineffectual movements and placed a hand
on the man's shoulder. "It's all right, Agent Mulder.
You're safe now," he said loudly over the noise of the
helicopter. "Squeeze my hand if you understand."

Mulder complied.

"Good. You're on a medical-evac helicopter. We've got
you and your partner."

"I - I - understand." Mulder heard himself mumble.

Psychedelic colors twirled in front of his face as he
opened his eyes and struggled to focus on the concerned
faces staring down at him.

"We've got you immobilized on the stretcher. Don't try to
move," Peter instructed him firmly.

Mulder had no intention of moving. Not when every part of
his body was hurting and his mouth was so dry that it took
every ounce of strength to get out one more word.

"Scully."

Peter wasn't quite sure what the man had just said, but he
took an educated guess based on the depth of fear in his
eyes.

"Your partner?"

Mulder blinked his eyes - unable to even nod because of
the rigid C-collar around his neck like a noose. There
was even a padded strap across his forehead.

"She's right here next to us. Dr. Barton is taking good
care of her and she's in excellent hands." Peter
reassured him.

Mulder stared hard at the face above him looking for any
signs of deception. There didn't seem to be any that he
could see. Some measure of relief creeped into his heart.
That would have to do for now. Reluctantly he closed his
eyes and tried unsuccessfully to remain awake. There was
so much that he needed to know but the darkness would not
be denied.

Peter looked over at Jason, and saw the worry in the man's
eyes as he worked on the woman. He knew that there was a
chance that the tamponade could recur before they reached
the hospital and he didn't know if Jason felt like he
could beat the odds twice. Jason saw Peter out of the
corner of his eye and looked over. Keeping a neutral
expression on his face, Peter gave a subtle "thumbs up".

 Jason nodded. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
<Thanks, man. > He thought. <I needed that. >

Peter looked as though he had heard him and returned his
attention to his patient.

Jason stared down at the woman before him, really seeing
her this time. The color of her hair reminded him of his
wife and his heart clenched at the thought. Marie. She
had nearly died six years ago at the age of 34 of a heart
attack. He had been on duty when they brought her in to
the emergency room in full cardiac arrest. She looked
just like this young agent, bright copper hair in stark
contrast to the white sheets on the stretcher. All over
again, he relived those terrifying hours not knowing if
she would live or die. He shook his head. Marie had
pulled through then and so would Agent Scully now.

Chapter 28

The helicopter landed at the hospital where medical
personnel were waiting to take over. Jason and Peter each
stayed with their respective patients to continue the care
that they'd started in the field.

Mulder was prepped for exploratory abdominal surgery and
x-rayed from head to toe. No broken bones were found but
some serious bruises, sprains and strains promised that
he'd be miserable for at least a week. The
anesthesiologist was asked to put Mulder under as soon as
possible since the nurses weren't sure that they could
keep him in the bed without using four-point leather
restraints, so intent was he on going to find Scully.

"I want to see her," he demanded hotly more times than
they could count. As pleased as Peter was that Mulder was
conscious and devoid of any serious head injury, he was
certainly no where near ready to go traipsing off after
his partner. He stayed with Mulder in the OR holding room
until he was mercifully paged to go out on another flight.

Allison, one of the OR circulating nurses stepped over to
Mulder's side to try and quiet him down. She had just
been told that Dr. Bruce, the anesthesiologist would be
ready in fifteen minutes but that she could go ahead and
administer 5mg of Versed IV to get the ball rolling.

"Agent Mulder, my name is Allison. I'm going to give you
some medication to calm you down now. They're almost
ready to take you in."

"Wait!" Mulder said, unable to hide the desperation and
fear. "Please. Tell me how my partner is doing. Please.
I have to know. She's been so sick and then she - she
fell..." he stumbled over the words, remembering.

Allison took his hand, her large hazel eyes full of pity
and understanding. "It's okay, Agent Mulder. Hold on.
Let me try and find out for you."

She stepped into a small office and picked up the phone.
Mulder watched her through the window and could see her
nodding, her lips moving but was unable to hear any part
of the conversation.

At last she returned. Before saying a word, she injected
the medication into his IV. "She's in surgery, Agent
Mulder. They say that everything is looking good. I
promise. And now it's time for you to get patched up so
that you can see her when you're done."

Mulder felt a small stinging sensation where the IV
entered his wrist. He tried to thank Allison, to let her
know how relieved he was, how much that phone call
meant, but the Versed was much too fast.

Allison smiled as she watched the drug take almost instant
effect, removing the worry from his face. She didn't need
to hear his thanks; she saw it in his face.

Chapter 29

Mulder slowly opened his eyes, preparing himself for the
harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting to assault his
eyes, which had been closed for too long. He was not
disappointed. His hands gingerly probed the bandage over
his left side as he blinked several times to clear his
vision. Realizing that someone was standing at the
window, he struggled painfully to pull himself to a
sitting position.

<Too tall to be Scully, > was the only thing he could
determine due to backlighting.

"Agent Mulder."

Skinner. Mulder tried to mask his disappointment. "Sir."

Skinner stepped closer, realizing the difficulty that
Mulder was having and pulled a chair up to the bedside.
"You know, you and Agent Scully should consider another
way to spend your weekends off, don't you think?" he asked
casually as he steepled his fingers and leaned forward.

Mulder froze. He could almost picture his jaw dropping
down to his chest. "What?" He managed to get out. <He
did - not - just say that, > Mulder thought, crazily.

If Skinner noticed anything amiss, he didn't show it. "I
mean, most people have picnics, go boating, and do yard
work,
but not you two. Always the non-conformists, aren't you?"

Mulder mentally shook himself. Maybe he was still out.
Maybe he was hallucinating due to some weird reaction to
the anesthesia. Maybe he was in the Twilight Zone. "Uh -
Sir - uh - you do realize that this - uh - wasn't our
fault? Right?"

"Relax, Mulder," Skinner said easily.

Mulder blinked in surprise, taken aback by Skinner's words
and tone. "How's Scully?" He asked abruptly, wanting to
change the subject.

Skinner's face twitched almost imperceptibly. "She's in
the ICU. She just got out of surgery an hour ago."

Mulder started. Then he remembered the nurse's words in
the holding room before his own surgery. Ignoring the stab
of pain that went through him for moving, he tried to pull
himself further up in bed.

Skinner held his hand up in a placating manner. "Will you
settle down. The way the doctor described it, they made a
hole in the lining of her heart to prevent fluid from
building up around it again. That build up reached the
point where her heart couldn't pump anymore. He thinks
that's what made her fall from the side of that cliff."

Mulder closed his eyes as the painful memory of Scully's
body plunging past his outstretched hand flashed before
him. <Oh God - heart surgery - > He'd visited a fellow
agent several years ago that had had heart surgery. The
tubes - the machines - the scar from throat to
abdomen...He cringed at the thought of an eight-inch scar
marring her body. It was an obscenity.

"They think that she could be released in the next six
or seven days."

Skinner's voice brought him out of his misery. "What?"
He asked in disbelief. <Six or seven days! >

"Apparently they've made a lot of progress with lasers and
such. Minimally invasive..." Skinner reassured him
having realized where Mulder's thoughts had taken him by
the stricken look on his face.

Mulder sank back, almost overwhelmed with relief.

"She's going to be fine, Mulder." Skinner reassured him,
with more than just a touch of compassion.

Mulder reached for the covers, when Skinner hand shot out
and clamped down on Mulder's arm like a vise.

"Don't even think about it," Skinner said in a steely
voice that brooked no argument. Mulder stared up at him
with a look that bordered on incredulity.

"You'll get up when and only when your doctor says that
you can," he continued almost conversationally. "Until
that time, you - will - follow every order he sets forth.
And if that means that I have to post an armed agent in
here, I will do so. Is that understood, Agent?"

Mulder's eyes locked onto Skinner's and flared with
indignation. Skinner lanced him with a grim stare of
his own. Mulder met the stare and then said slowly,
"Yes...sir."

Skinner released his hand and sat back, trying not to
look smug.

Mulder blew out an exasperated breath, resisting the
urge to pout.

"Sulk all you want, but seeing how yours and Agent
Scully's medical files are giving War and Peace a run for
its money, I don't want to hear about you giving any of
the doctors or nurses any trouble whatsoever."

Mulder didn't say anything at first, clenching his jaw in
frustration. <This is ridiculous, > he huffed silently.

Skinner watched him closely. "Now that we've got that
settled. I'd like to hear the details of what went on
out there, if you're feeling up to it."

Mulder glared at his superior briefly, before finally
admitting defeat. "Sure. Fine." He paused to collect
his thoughts and successfully clamped down on the
"whatever" that almost escaped his traitorous lips.

"If it helps, I talked with Mrs. Scully and she told me
about Scully's house-sitting assignment," Skinner supplied
helpfully.

Mulder nodded. "That was Thursday. On Friday, I received
a tip about Dr. Theodore Dickerson and a discovery that
he'd made on the God Module."

"So did I."

"From who? When?" Mulder asked in confusion.

"Saturday morning, an unidentified friend of yours gave me
the same information in the hopes of finding you."
Skinner informed him.

Mulder shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowed. <How
desperate had Byers been to do that? And did the guys
know? Later, > he told himself with a slow shake of his
head before returning to the matter at hand. "I drove
over to fill Scully in. I thought that we could go and
investigate his lab."

"It's been torched," Skinner told him soberly. "We don't
now by whom or if they got what they were looking for, but
we're still checking it out."

Mulder sighed. "She was thorough," he muttered under his
breath.

"Mulder?" Skinner prodded.

"Nothing. I'm getting to that part," Mulder said. "Okay,
Friday night, two men burst into the house and thought
that Scully and I were the doctor and his wife."

Skinner wasn't going to touch that line. No way.
Besides, he remembered about the lasagna in the oven.

"We fought them," Mulder continued, "but obviously we
lost. We were knocked out then injected with some drug to
keep us out while they transported us to the island that
you found us on. By the time we woke up, it was Saturday
afternoon and Scully was really sick with fever and severe
chest pain. She said that it was a result of that
incident two weeks ago with Padgett."

Skinner pressed his lips together, but remained silent.
He had thought that Scully was okay - that she'd been
released to full duty. He decided to save that
conversation for another time.

"Trays of food were sent in but we never saw or spoke to
anyone until Sunday afternoon. That's when we met their
leader." Mulder said.

"Agent Fowley," Skinner said flatly.

Mulder made no attempt to hide his surprise. He didn't
say anything at first. Something very unpleasant seemed
to be hanging in the room. "How did you know? Was her
body found?"

"Nothing and no one survived that bomb." Skinner informed
him grimly. "We had the gun that Agent Scully was
carrying analyzed." He stared at Mulder hard. "Was Agent
Fowley the one who shot you?"

"Yeah," Mulder whispered. He still couldn't believe it,
would never really believe that she'd shot him in cold
blood.

"Why?" Skinner was compelled to ask.

"She'd separated Scully and I. Tried to make me believe
that Scully was dead and wanted me to join her." He
shuddered slightly. "A young woman, I don't know her
name, came into the room blaming Diana for her father's
death, pointing a gun at her. Diana killed her. When I
tried to leave, she tried to kill me, too, but Scully
arrived and used the other gun. I remember two shots
firing at almost the same time and I'm pretty sure that
Scully hit Diana first, which, I think, is the only reason
I'm still alive. She had me dead to rights at point blank
range."

Skinner had to agree.

Mulder sank back against the pillows, suddenly spent.
Reliving the horrors of the past several days, taking
its toll. And he hadn't even gone into all the details,
omitting especially the fact that the young woman's father
had been Deep Throat.

Skinner sat there for a moment in an uneasy silence then
he cleared his throat. "Agent Mulder."

Mulder slowly opened his eyes.

"I do understand that you want to check on your partner,
but you need to take care of yourself first. The doctor
hinted that Agent Scully would need some assistance in her
recovery. I'm sure that you'll want to be there for her."
He said in a neutral voice, his face absolutely
unreadable.

To that, Mulder said nothing, then slowly nodded.
"Yes, sir, I would."

Skinner abruptly rose to his feet. "Then, I'll check on
you later," he said stiffly and without waiting for a
response, walked to the door. He hesitated and turned
back. "I had your car brought in," he added softly.
"Your suitcase is in the closet." And then he was gone.

Mulder looked momentarily puzzled. <His suitcase? > He
rolled over in an attempt to get comfortable, still trying
to figure it out. Skinner had acted rather bizarre and
what was the deal with his suitcase? There wasn't
anything in his suitcase that would have warranted
bringing it in right now. Just his clothes and ...

<No. Tell me he didn't see them, please, tell me he
didn't. > But he probably had. It would explain his
uncharacteristic behavior if he had seen the little black
jewelers boxes nestled in the suitcase. It would explain
a lot...

Chapter 30

Insane asylum

Loony Bin

Nut house

Funny Farm

Psyche Ward

Mulder stared out the window from the bed and he thought
that if he squinted his eyes - just so - there - he could
actually see the bars and wire mesh covering it. They had
locked up at last and thrown away the key. His forced
separation from Scully had finally pushed him over the
edge, sending his battered psyche plummeting down into the
depths of psychological hell. The FBI had been saddened
by the loss of one of their brightest profilers. Spooky
Mulder was now officially crazier than a shithouse rat.
Certifiable.

"Dammit!" Mulder cried out furiously, slamming his hands
down on the bed in a helpless rage. <Could he be anymore
pathetic than this? > He wondered angrily. Writing his
own professional obituary had to be bottom of the barrel.

He hit the mattress again. He wanted to tear it apart -
he wanted to hurt it - destroy it. Lying in a hospital
bed - wallowing in self-pity and loathing himself for
being so utterly pathetic. He squeezed his hands into
fists and ground his teeth in frustration. He didn't know
what to do. He thought of Scully, lying in the ICU and of
Maggie Scully, who surely was keeping vigil.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to be this way.
Almost always before, only one or the other had been
hospitalized. He had kept vigil at her bedside upon her
miraculous return from her abduction, when she had stared
down death again from cancer, and after she had been shot
in New York.

She had sat with him after he'd been shot in the leg in
North Carolina, when he'd been exposed to the retrovirus
and had even saved him from the monster when he was
strapped down on the bed. He shuddered at the memory of
that creature. Scully believed him, though.

"My one in five billion," he whispered brokenly.

And when they both had been hurt, nearly drained dry by
those bugs in the forest or aged nearly to death on that
ship, they had been kept side by side.

"That's the way it's supposed to be," he muttered
fiercely. He tried to swallow the anger - push it
away - but he just couldn't. In this room, alone, he
had nothing to stop the descent into despair.

He smashed his fists onto the mattress - first one then
the other, over and over. The rage that started somewhere
in the pit of his stomach traveled up to his shoulders
than down his arms and flowed into his fists as they
pounded the soft mattress. In the dark recesses of his
mind, he imagined that he was pounding a brick wall - a
much more painful if satisfying target.

The rage poured from him and he let himself revel in it.
The pain pierced the wound in his side like a white-hot
knife making him wonder briefly if he'd done any internal
damage. In a heartbeat he decided that he didn't care.

"I think that the poor mattress has had enough, Fox."

Mulder jerked his gaze over - one arm frozen on the
upswing.

Maggie Scully was standing just inside the door, arms
crossed, head tilted to one side with a small frown on
her face.

He never heard her come in, so lost was he in his own
private hell. The small sad smile that replaced the frown
and the fatigue in her eyes drained the last of the fury,
as well as his strength from him. He slumped weakly back
against the pillows.

"Mrs. Scully..." He didn't quite know what to say.

"Are you finished or should I come back later?" She asked
quite seriously.

Mulder felt his cheeks flame. Feeling like a complete
idiot, he shook his head. "Don't go. Stay. Please," he
couldn't meet her eyes, but he couldn't let her go. He
didn't want to be alone in this room anymore. "I'm sorry
about that - I - I'm - I just..." his voice trailed away
as he fought back the tears.

Maggie stepped over to the bed and stared down at him with
concern. "Fox, what is it?"

Mulder chewed on his bottom lip. How could he explain it
to her?

Maggie reached out and brushed an errant lock of hair from
his forehead. Her cool hand felt wonderful against his
heated skin and his eyes closed as he savored her caring
touch.

"Fox, Dana's going to be all right. She will," she said
soothingly, but Mulder heard a slight catch in her voice.

His eyes flew open and he searched her face desperately
for the truth. "What? What aren't you telling me?"

Maggie huffed softly, irritated by her transparency. She
had - never - been able to get anything past this man.
Not when it concerned her daughter.

"Please - I have to know," Mulder pleased with her.

Maggie had a flash of understanding. She was looking at a
man suffering withdrawal. Withdrawal from her daughter.
An addiction like no other. He was wholly under Dana's
spell and lying in this bed was slowly but surely pushing
him to the point where he would so something rash;
probably hurting himself in the process.

Quickly she sat down on the bed and took his startled
face in her hands. "Fox - listen to me." She ordered.

He tried to twist away but she held on gently and firmly.

"No Fox. Stop it. I want you to listen to me. Right
now." She was in full "mother" mode and Fox instinctively
responded to the tone in her voice and lay still, looking
up at her wide-eyed.

"That's better," she said soothingly. She picked up a
washcloth on the table and poured a little water from the
pitcher. "Dana is going to be all right," she told him
calmly, running the cloth across his face and neck. "She
spiked a fever but the doctor is with her, he's ordering
some tests but he assured me that she's going to be all
right."

Mulder stared up at her, mesmerized. Maggie continued her
gentle ministrations, watching him visibly calm. "She's
going to need you," she went on, talking to him as if he
were a child. "You're going to need to take care of
yourself so that you can be there for her. That's what
you want isn't it?"

<That's what Skinner had said, > Mulder simply nodded.
The cool damp rag felt wonderful. He was beginning to
think that they had conspired behind his back and found
that the best way for him to behave was to use Scully's
needs before his own. He had to admit that it was damned
effective.

Maggie went on, "Now, I'm going to ask your nurse for a
wheelchair and I'm going to take you over to the ICU for
just a minute to show you that she's okay. And then it
will be back to bed for you, do you understand?"

Unable to find his voice just yet, Mulder again nodded.
Maggie felt tears sting her own eyes at the look on Fox's
face. Hope replaced despair. Joy supplanted misery.
Pure relief dispelled the pain. She was thoroughly in awe
of the power of her daughter over this man. She leaned in
and brushed a quick kiss on his forehead before hurrying
out to locate a wheelchair.

Maggie didn't have to work too hard to get permission to
take Fox to the ICU for a brief visit. Fox's nurse,
Melody, had been all too aware of her patient's despondent
mood. He hadn't eaten, he slept fitfully if at all and
had obviously been having pain but had refused any
medication. When Maggie had approached with the request,
she had breathed a sigh of relief, having been - this -
close to taking him herself. And to hell with doctors
orders. Yes Fox Mulder needed bedrest, but it was
painfully obvious that that wasn't all that he needed to
recover. She made a quick stop at the medication cart
before accompanying Maggie back into his room.

She insisted that Mulder take at least a half-dose of
Morphine to make the trip bearable. "Agent Mulder, I
promise. It won't knock you out. I have no desire to
watch you sleep in that chair since you're too heavy for
the two of us to lift." She said with a grin. "It will
just take the edge off. Please."

Mulder resisted at first, then acquiesced since he didn't
want to risk Melody pulling the plug on his visit to
Scully. He had to finally admit that the pain wasn't
going to just go away on its own. Melody quickly injected
the narcotic before her recalcitrant patient changed his
mind, then she and Maggie proceeded to help him into the
wheelchair.

Mulder felt ridiculously helpless as the two women, both
under 5'5" carefully maneuvered his 6'1" frame up and out
of the bed. Grateful that he had accepted the medication,
he sank into the chair, unable to mask his discomfort.
Pale and sweating profusely, he allowed Maggie to bathe
his face, while Melody placed a blanket on his lap.

Melody stood in front of the wheelchair and leaned
forward, placing both hands on the armrests. She stared
hard at Mulder, who met her gaze without flinching. He
was getting his second wind and he was ready to do battle.

"I think that you should get back in bed, Agent Mulder,"
she said softly.

Mulder clenched his jaw and his eyes turned steely. Now
that he was up he was not going back until his goal was
met. "No. Not until I see my partner."

Maggie watched the battle of wills with a knowing smile.
Poor Melody had no idea what she was going up against and
the depth of his devotion for her daughter. Words would
never be adequate to describe it and what they had was
beyond special, beyond love that most people could only
dream of and none could ever duplicate.

Melody sighed and straightened. "Okay. You win. Let's
go. But don't you even think about getting out of that
chair. You go see her, you come right back, and you get
in bed. Got it?"

Mulder flashed her a smile and nodded. There was never a
doubt in his mind that he'd win this one. Never a doubt.

Chapter 31

As Maggie pushed the wheelchair at a rate Mulder
considered way too slow, it was all he could do to stay
seated. Actually, he felt like he was floating along on
Cloud 9, between the effects of the morphine and his
elation at finally getting to see Scully.

He came crashing back down to Earth with a bone-jarring
thud when he realized that the bustle of activity was
coming from the room that Maggie was steering him towards.
She was forced to pull back as the portable x-ray machine
lumbered noisily past them. Mulder painfully craned his
neck and was able to see that Scully was being hooked up
to a 12-lead EKG machine while a nurse was drawing several
tubes of blood.

"What's going on?" Mulder whispered nervously. "I
thought that she was okay."

"The fever, Fox. Remember? They're just running some
tests." Maggie whispered back.

"Oh - yeah." Mulder shook his head and tried to clear
away the drug-induced cobwebs.

"The doctor said that he was doing a work-up to determine
the source, but he assured me that she'd be all right."
Maggie went on, confidently.

Mulder nodded, biting his lower lip in consternation.
<Something else was wrong. > He thought fuzzily. He
squirmed impatiently, trying to see past the equipment,
the nurse, the tech but the bed was too high and he was
too low. And then it registered in his brain. The metal,
tubular framework over Scully's bed.

"Oh God," he hissed.

"What is it, Fox? Are you okay?" Maggie leaned over
his shoulder and stared anxiously at his face.

"What - what happened to her leg?" He asked, his voice
hoarse, as the EKG tech hurried past them, affording him
his first good look. Scully's right leg was encased in
plaster from her hip to her foot and suspended above the
mattress.

"Oh, Fox, I'm sorry. I thought you knew - I thought that
Director Skinner had told you." Maggie said sorrowfully.

"Told me what?" He asked, unable to tear his eyes away.

"That her leg was broken in the fall, Fox." Maggie
admitted.

Mulder closed his eyes as yet again he saw Scully's body
plunging past his outstretched hand. He should have
known. He should have known that she had fallen too far
to escape injury. Why couldn't he have caught her - he
was there - he should have been able to save her.

Maggie knelt beside him. "Fox, stop it. I know what
you're thinking, Fox and it won't do you any good."

Mulder slowly opened his eyes and dragged his gaze up
to meet hers. "I tried. I tried to catch her."

Maggie sighed and without a word reached over and simple
hugged him. "Don't do it Fox. Don't blame yourself.
Please. I know you tried. Dana knows you tried. Now let
it go. Blame isn't going to help you or Dana now. You
can't look back and you and I both know it."

She drew back to gauge the effectiveness of her words.

"You're right," Mulder admitted softly. "I know you're
right, it's just that I keep seeing her going past me and
I'm reaching and it's never enough."

"Fox, I can't make the bad memories just disappear,"
Maggie told him sadly, "but I think if you talk to Dana
she just might be able to help. Don't you think?"

Before he could say another word, Maggie pushed him
forward as the nurse lowered the bed to its lowest
position then quickly slipped back out to give them
some privacy.

Mulder at long last was able to see Scully's face. She
was looking right at him, her cheeks flushed with fever.
And in that instant, everyone and everything faded away
leaving just the two of them.

Mulder stared at her, entranced. The bright crystal blue
of her eyes captured him and drew him to her.

"Hi," she murmured in a breathy voice that sent an
electrical current of joy straight to his heart causing it
to skip several beats.

"Hi, yourself," he finally managed to get out in a voice
heavy with emotion. He reached over to take her hand in
his.

At his touch, Scully sighed happily, a smile lighting up
her face and effectively driving away all the demons
plaguing her partner's memory. "I've been waiting for
you," she said, her tone informing him that she meant the
sentiment on several levels.

"Well, you know how it is around here...so much to do..."
His voice broke, overcome with relief and joy and he
couldn't keep up the casual façade. The strength of the
emotions simmered at the surface, threatening to spill
over.

As their gazes locked, their hands clenched and suddenly
words became superfluous. Mulder felt helpless under the
spell of the woman lying before him. They had almost lost
each other. Again. It had been close. Much too damn
close. And yet - they had won. Together, they had
battled death and emerged victorious, but it was different
this time. They were different. They had openly
expressed their love for each other, pushing away barriers
and mutually deciding that their relationship would go on
to a higher level. Maybe, somehow, that declaration had
given them an added advantage in the game of life and
death. They had already learned that together they were a
force to be reckoned with. So now, what? Were they
invincible?

<Probably not, > he thought hazily. But when she looked
at him like she was now, he felt like he could take on the
powers of heaven and hell...and win.

He bowed his head and pressed his lips to her palm as
sudden tears coursed down his cheeks. Scully felt the
wetness on her hand, even as her eyes became heavy with
tears of her own. She lifted his chin.

Reading his face, Scully was moved to speak. "I love you,
Mulder." She said, her voice a throaty whisper.

"I'll always love you, Scully," he responded with a raw
passion that touched her heart and her soul and sent them
soaring to new heights.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly.

"I am now," he answered with a tiny smile touching his
lips. "How about you?"

She nodded. "As long as I know you're here."

"I'll always be right here," he whispered, reaching up
awkwardly to place his hand over her heart.

"I know," Scully smiled.

She licked her lips, suddenly finding it difficult to
catch her breath. She looked over and caught sight of her
mother moving in. "Time to go," she told Mulder sadly.

He kissed her palm again before reluctantly letting
her go. "I'll be back," he promised.

"I'll be waiting," she reassured him.

"I'm sorry, Fox. I have to get you back." Maggie said
sorrowfully.

Mulder kept his eyes on his partner, drinking her in.
"I know."

"Behave," Scully mouthed the command as she watched him
leave.

He quirked his lips and his eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Never," he mouthed back.

And then he was gone.

Lying alone in the room, Scully fought down the wave of
miserable raw panic that threatened to consume her. She
felt as though all of her strength was taken away when her
mother wheeled Mulder back to his own room. It was all
she could do not to cry out, beg them to bring Mulder back
to her. Here. He belonged here. Or let her go to him.
That's the way it was supposed to be. Everyone knew that.

She heaved a great tortured sigh and sank back against
the pillows as exhaustion set in claiming her thoughts.
She held on to one, though, like a precious talisman to
keep her safe. Mulder..

Chapter 32

2 days later

Maggie watched her daughter closely as she stared out the
hospital window, absorbing all that the doctors had told
her. For Maggie, of course, it had been unexpected to say
the least, but Dana was either prepared for it or in
shock. She lay quietly on the bed, one hand absently
fingering the ever-present gold cross around her neck.
Maggie wondered if she was gathering strength from it, or
was it an unconscious habit. She glanced over at the
cardiac monitor that Dana was still attached to. The
pattern was steady at eighty-six beats per minute. She
found herself watching it...staring at it...it was almost
hypnotic. She blinked and shook her head ruefully. A
glance down at her watch let her know that Fox would be in
shortly as he was in the process of being officially
discharged from the hospital today.

"Dana," she called softly. She hated to intrude on her
daughter's thoughts but she wanted to talk to her before
Fox arrived.

Dana jumped slightly and turned to face her mother
expectantly.

"Dana, what about work?" Maggie asked , thinking that she
knew the answer already, but wanting to hear Dana
verbalize it.

Scully's reply, however, took her completely by surprise.
"To tell you the truth, Mom...I really don't know. A lot
will depend on Mulder."

Maggie's brow furrowed, clearly displaying her confusion.
"How exactly?"

Scully smiled wistfully. "Mom, I have to face facts.
It's going to be at least a month, probably more before I
can get around on my own. Work, even deskwork, is not
possible unless I can do it at home. And since the
infection of my heart prevents the necessary physical
rehabilitation for my leg, it's going to take who knows
how long to get back to fieldwork. If it was one or the
other, I could manage, but together I'm completely
helpless."

Maggie's heart broke as she listened to her daughter try
to maintain her composure, even though she could easily
see the pain and fear those last two words brought her as
well as hear it in her voice. The slightest tremble
betrayed her. Dana was indeed completely vulnerable and
she was trying to appear strong as usual. And she
probably did seem quite strong to others, but as her
mother, Maggie saw through her easily and she was quite
certain that Fox could as well. "You haven't told me
exactly how Fox figures into this."

"Mom, I'm his partner, but I don't think that Skinner will
let him work on his own. He never has in the past, at
least not for long. He will probably be assigned a new
partner and since I don't know how long I'll be out, there
might not be a position in the X-files unit for me to go
back to. That is provided that I can make a full
recovery."

There it was. Spoken calmly, matter-of-factly with her
usual quiet reserve, Maggie felt like if she had blinked,
she would have missed it. Dana had just sat there,
wearing a cloak of clinical detachment and had just
confessed one of her deepest, darkest fears without any
fanfare. Anyone else would have missed it entirely.

<But a cloak can't hide your eyes, > Maggie thought
sorrowfully. Looking into her daughter's blue eyes, she
was confronted by the full force of what her daughter
truly feared. It wasn't the fear of not having her job
back, it was her fear of not being at Fox's side,
protecting him as he protected her while they carried out
their quest. A quest that had exacted a high price by her
family and his, but one which it appeared that they were
destined to continue.

Scully finally crumpled under the weight of her mother's
caring and concerned gaze and let the tears she'd felt
pooling in her eyes fall.

Maggie hugged her tightly. "Let it out, Dana," she
whispered. "Let it all out." She stroked her daughter's
hair, with tears of her own sliding down her cheeks.
"Sweetheart, you know that Fox wouldn't let that happen.
He's not going to go one without you. Not after
everything that you've both been through. Surely you're
aware of that."

"What if he doesn't have a choice, Mom?" Scully cried.
"I can't hold him back. I won't."

Maggie shook her head and continued to console her
distraught daughter. The depth of Dana's fear literally
took her breath away. When she heard the door open she
looked up quickly, expecting to see Fox. It wasn't him
but Dana's nurse, Abby. The young woman raised her
eyebrows, silently asking Maggie if everything was all
right. Maggie nodded yes, and the nurse slipped back out.
She glanced over at the heart monitor. One hundred and
ten beats per minute she saw and winced. Too high.

"Sshh," Maggie soothed. "Sshh. Fox isn't going anywhere
without you. Even I know that."

Several minutes passed before Scully's cries turned to
sniffles and to Maggie's relief, the heart monitor showed
that her heat rate was down in the nineties. She
continued to hold her daughter, whispering assurances that
she hoped would ease her discomfort.

"I-I'm sorry, Mom," Dana whispered, unable to meet her
mother's worried gaze as she tried to regain control.

"Sweetheart, don't. Don't apologize. I can only imagine
how hard this is going to be for you. But I'm here for
you. And Fox will be too." She told her confidently.

"I know he will," Dana replied, but Maggie could see the
doubt that clouded her face.

Abby returned and handed Dana her medication including a
mild sedative that she insisted be taken. Scully resisted
at first, but Maggie urged her to take it, and stayed with
her until she was asleep.

Chapter 33

Mulder had to restrain himself from whistling cheerfully
as he showered. He was finally free of IV's and his
surgical wound as well as the abrasions on his knees and
elbows were healing nicely. There were some things in
life that simply had no substitute and one of them was a
long hot shower. Another would be making love to Dana
Scully.

<Whoa! Hold it! Time out, folks. > Mulder gripped the
safety rail as he was unexpectedly sucker-punched by a
sudden, powerful mental image of he and Scully...on her
bed...making love...

<No-no-no...> he thought, frantically trying to reign
himself in and wondering if he should change the water
temperature to cold as his body responded to the vivid
details.

<Where did THAT come from? > he wondered breathlessly.
<Sheesh...tell someone that you love them and then see
what happens...>

He shook his head. <So close. > he thought. <We were so
close. > And then everything went to Hell. The
kidnapping, Scully's illness, their injuries. Why did it
always seem like all the forces in this world and probably
the next were conspiring against them being together?

Well, as far as he was concerned, that was all going to
change. They had admitted their love for one another, out
loud, and from here on out he was home free. Oh, he knew
that Scully would need some time, adjustments would have
to be made by both of them. But for once, he felt
confident. A confidence born on his love for her. A love
that had steadily grown and had finally given him the
strength to tell her.

As the hot water pounded his still aching body, he had to
remind himself that he couldn't stay in too long; per
doctor's orders. But as he shampooed his hair and
lathered his body with hospital issue soap, he let himself
enjoy every single minute.

Finally, reluctantly, he turned the water off and reached
for the always too small towel. Gingerly he patted
himself dry, grimacing when he came in contact with the
large bruises under the abrasions. He caught sight of
himself in the mirror and did a small double take when he
got his first look at himself.

"Well that's just great," he muttered in disgust, eyeing
the large bruise that covered his chin, another reminder
of that terrifying slide down the cliff.

The look of pure horror on Scully's face would live on in
his cursed memory but with a shake of his head, he willed
the image back into it's furthest recesses. Weakly he
lowered himself onto the toilet. He felt a little dizzy
from the emotional high then low he'd just experienced.
<I definitely prefer the highs, > he told himself, briefly
flashing back to Scully.

An unexpected knock on the door brought him out of his
reverie with a jolt.

"Hey, Mulder! You in there?"

Mulder groaned good-naturedly: Frohike.

"Yeah, Mulder - what's taking you so long?"

Mulder shook his head, smiling: Langly. Two down,
one to go.

"Mulder - are you okay?"

Bingo. Byers. "Be right out guys." Mulder shouted.

Several minutes later, Mulder exited the bathroom feeling
human for the first time in days, comfortably attired in
his own familiar clothes instead of an indecent hospital
gown. He found Langly stretched out on the bed, while
Byers and Frohike restlessly paced the room.

"Who died, Frohike?" Mulder teased, seeing that
Frohike was dressed up in what Mulder called his "funeral
suit" complete with bow tie and that he nervously clutched
a small bouquet of wild flowers.

"Very funny, Mulder." Frohike retorted, self-consciously
straightening the maroon bow tie.

"How are you feeling?" Byers asked quietly.

"Better all the time, man. Thanks." Mulder replied,
catching and holding Byers' eyes. He sent a silent
message to his friend, letting him know that he knew Byers
had called Skinner and that he appreciated it.

"Well - we were worried." Byers stated, struggling to
meet Mulder's eyes.

"I know. But it's all over now." Mulder said with a
slight nod.

Byers breathed a silent sigh of relief, realizing that
Mulder would keep his secret.

Langly watched them silently. Something had just passed
between them, he was sure of it, but damned if he knew
what. "So Mulder, how much longer 'til you're out?" he
asked.

"As soon as I pack up and find a place for the lovely
flowers Frohike brought me." Mulder replied breezily
as he got his suitcase out.

"These aren't for you," Frohike protested. "I'm trying
to get them in to the lovely Agent Scully."

Mulder paused with a frown. "What do you mean 'trying'?"

"The nurse said she wasn't to be disturbed because of the
conference." Langly supplied helpfully, "And Frohike
wanted to deliver 'em in person."

"Conference?" Mulder floundered. "What conference?"

Byers stepped in. "According to the nurse, Agent Scully
and her mother were in conference with the doctors. I
take it that you didn't know."

Mulder shook his head, stunned and more than just a little
afraid. Having a 'conference' with your doctor didn't
sound promising. In fact, he was pretty sure that it
meant just the opposite.

Without another word, he turned and yanked open the door,
bolting from the room with the Lone Gunmen hot on his
heels. Mulder took two steps before running right into
Maggie Scully.

"Oh!" Maggie cried out and Mulder instinctively reached
out to catch her. Byers was hit from behind when he
suddenly stopped to avoid Mulder and almost tumbled into
him anyway. Langly, the last in line, almost laughed at
the absurdity - it looked like a scene from the Keystone
cops.

"Mrs. Scully - I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Mulder hastened
to apologize.

Maggie stepped back, straightening her shirt. "Of course,
Fox. I'm fine." She replied a little breathless.
"What's wrong?" She caught sight of the Lone Gunmen.
"Who are your friends?"

Mulder ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "Frohike
- Langly - Byers." He indicated each and they nodded
politely. "This is Scully's mom. Maggie Scully."

"Pleased to meet you all. Dana's mentioned you, I
believe." Maggie said and they returned the sentiment.

"I was going to see you and Scully," Mulder broke in
impatiently on the pleasantries. "they said that you
were in a conference. What's going on?"

"Why don't we go back in and talk. Dana's asleep right
now." Maggie suggested, stepping into Mulder's room.

Mulder hesitated. He really needed to talk to Scully.
See for himself that she was okay. But Maggie, seeing
that Mulder hadn't followed her m reached back and took
him by the arm. "Come on, Fox. You too, boys." Maggie
called back to the Lone Gunmen.

Frohike snickered and elbowed Byers. "Boys." He
whispered and even Byers had to grin. They all, including
Mulder, sat on the bed while Maggie took the only chair.

"I'm going to get right to the point. Dana is looking at
a long recovery period, Fox. That's what the doctors told
her." Maggie admitted.

Mulder swallowed hard and braced himself. "How - how
long?"

The Lone Gunmen exchanged worried glances.

"We don't know for sure, but the cardiologist has laid
down strict guidelines about any strenuous activity, how
fast her heart rate can be and the orthopedist said that
she'll be in that cast for a month, maybe more." Maggie
told them.

Mulder was unable to hide the pain he was feeling.
<Things just kept getting better and better. > He knew
that Scully would be on crutches for a while but he also
knew that crutches were hard work and anyone who told you
differently was fooling themselves. And not only
crutches, but wearing that heavy plaster cast. <Hell, the
damn thing probably weighed as much as his petite
partner.> Then it hit him. If Scully had restrictions on
strenuous activity, and going around on crutches with a
cast definitely constituted strenuous, then she wouldn't
be allowed on crutches. Not until the cardiologist
cleared her.

"She won't be able to get about on her own." He said in
dismay.

"She's going to need our help, Fox, but I'm not exactly
sure what to do. Dana is so independent and to be put in
this position I know will be one of the hardest things
she's ever had to do."

Mulder agreed. He tried to picture Scully in her
apartment, trying to get around with that cast, exerting
herself against doctor's orders, needing help and refusing
to ask. Stubborn Scully. He truly loved all of Scully,
but that stubborn streak was truly a force to reckon with.

And yet, her stubbornness had a positive aspect and he
didn't want her to lose even a tiny part of herself while
getting through this. They would have to find a place in
the middle: allow Scully as much independence as possible,
keep her spirits up without compromising her health and
refraining from hovering over her every minute.

For several minutes, they were all quiet, thinking and
puzzling over the dilemma.

"I think I have an idea - but I'm going to need everyone's
help. And we'll have to hurry." Mulder spoke up.

"Anything you need, Mulder - we'll get it." Frohike
vowed.

"That's right, man," Langly added. "What can we do?"

Mulder laid out his plan and Maggie was skeptical at first
but with some fine tuning and input from all of them, she
quickly warmed to the idea. With suggestions from her,
they came up with what they hoped would be an ideal
proposal. Mulder made a call while the others waited with
baited breath to hear if they could move ahead with their
plans.

"It's a go." Mulder announced.

Everyone sighed in relief.

"When do we tell her?" Maggie asked as she stood to
leave.

"We don't." Mulder stated flatly. "Not until she's in
the car, leaving this place."

Maggie couldn't help but laugh. Mulder obviously was not
going to underestimate Dana's strength. He was more than
a match for her daughter and she prayed that they would
finally live the love that she saw in both their eyes.

"All right, Fox. I better get started. Tell Dana that
I'll see her in the morning." Then she hurried off, still
not quite sure if they could do it and just exactly how
Dana would respond. Quickly she shook off her doubts.
Fox loved her daughter and she had to have faith in that
love. He would make it work and heaven help anyone who
stood in his way. Actually she had to admit that his
optimism was infectious.

The Lone Gunmen received their assignments and then they
too rushed out. Mulder waived them out even as he began
making more calls. If this was going to work, they had no
time to waste. And it was going to work, he vowed. In a
heartbeat it had all become so clear to him and everything
else just faded away. He knew what he had to do.

Chapter 34

Scully awoke with a muffled cry of alarm. One hand flew
to her mouth as she realized that her eyes were indeed
open, but the room was almost completely dark, causing
instant disorientation. In that brief startled moment she
was back on that island, in that windowless cell.

All rational thought fled and she moaned softly, cold all
over and shivering. "No." She whispered. "No." She
forced herself to close her eyes, to breathe slowly,
allowing the brief panicky thoughts to dissipate. Her
hands clutched instinctively at her chest feeling her
heart pound, her muscles tight and painful.

Suddenly and without warning, the door opened. Startled,
Scully jerked her head over with a sharp intake of breath.

"Mulder?" She managed to call out, her voice hoarse, her
fear quite evident.

"No, Dana, it's Abby. Your nurse." Abby stepped over.
She turned on the overbed light and quickly assessed her
patient. She didn't like what she saw or what she'd heard
in Dana's voice. She flicked her gaze over to the cardiac
monitor and frowned at the reading. "Dana, what is it?
What's wrong?"

Blinking against the too bright light, Scully fought to
gain control over her troubled expression, wishing that
the monitor faced her so that she could see it for
herself. "I - I'm fine," she answered, not knowing for
sure just now if she was or not.

"Are you sure?" Abby asked carefully, apparently reading
her patient's mind and not wanting to provoke her. Dana's
heart rate was slowing, but her breathing was a bit
ragged, her cheeks flushed. "Maybe I should get you - "

"No!" Scully broke in anxiously.

Abby stared at her.

Scully lowered her voice. "I'm fine," she told Abby
steadily now. "I just woke up from the medication they
gave me earlier. I don't want anymore - please. I'm
fine, really."

Abby nodded in understanding. She leaned down and
rearranged the pillows and straightened the rumpled
sheets. "Okay. For now." She told Scully, noting
the lines of stress that hadn't quite gone away.

Scully smiled gratefully. She got the implied
message.

"Is everything okay in here?"

Both women jumped at the sound of Mulder's voice in
the doorway.

Abby whirled around. "Agent Mulder," she scolded. "Do
you mind? I just got my patient settled back down. I
don't appreciate being snuck up on either."

Contrite, Mulder mumbled an apology and Abby sighed in
exasperation.

"It's all right." She grinned good-naturedly. "A simple
knock will do, for future reference." She glanced back at
the monitor and Dana then went back to her rounds as
Mulder stepped aside to let her pass.

"Gee - was it something I said?" He quipped as he hurried
over to Scully's side. Without hesitation, he leaned over
and brushed his lips tenderly over hers.

Hungrily, Scully immediately wrapped her arms around his
neck to pull herself deeper into the wondrous kiss, her
lips parting instinctively.

Mulder groaned as a flood of emotions coursed through him
like wildfire - love - passion - desire - want. Want. He
wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to pick her up.
He wanted take her out of here and ...

Reluctantly, he put a stop to that line of thinking for
now. At least he was able to kiss his Scully and finally
express his love to her. The rest, by necessity, would
come later.

When they finally broke apart, Scully stared up at him,
raptly, her blue eyes shining with happy tears. "I love
you," she murmured breathlessly.

Mulder softly stroked her cheek. "I'll always love you."

Scully managed to make room on the bed so that he could
sit, which he did, taking great care not to jar her leg.

"Got a question for you," he said earnestly.

Scully cocked an inquiring eyebrow at him and the sudden
topic change. "Shoot."

"What, exactly, did Abby mean when she said 'I just got my
patient settled back down'?" he inquired.

Scully bit her lip and looked away guiltily. Mulder
immediately reached over to take her chin and gently
brought her face back around. "What?" he asked as he
looked down at her, his fears returning. "What's wrong?"

She swallowed hard and saw the concern clouding his eyes.
She sighed. "I was afraid," she said simply, venting her
frustration at her earlier behavior.

"Afraid?" Mulder asked in amazement. "Of what?"

Scully slumped. "I woke up - it was dark - no one - no
one was here and for a moment - for just a moment," she
faltered then went on. "For a moment, I thought that I was
back on the island."

"Oh, Scully," He bent down and carefully took her in his
arms. "I'm here. I'll always be right here for you.
Always. I promise."

Scully felt two tears slip out unbidden. "I know. I do
know. It's just - it's just that I haven't' seen you
since the doctors talked with Mom and me. I'm so tired of
being stuck in this bed all day. And Mom's gone and they
gave me a sedative and it was dark in here when I - " She
broke off. "Oh God, when did I become such a baby?"

Mulder took her face in his hands. "You, Dana Katherine
Scully, are most certainly NOT a baby. Well, at least not
in the sense that you mean," he grinned.

Scully smiled shyly. <'Mulder's baby' - now there's a
thought. >

Mulder went on, relieved by her smile. "I spoke to your
mom earlier - she told me to tell you that she'll see you
later. She's got some things she's got to take care of.
I've been in and out of here myself, but that pill they
gave you really knocked you out, so I was doing some
errands, too and getting a report for Skinner."

Scully huffed. "There's just no end to the paperwork, is
there?"

"Nope. And just to make sure that you don't die of
boredom in that bed, I brought you your laptop, so that
you can make your report." He said playfully.

"Gee, thanks, Mulder," Scully groaned. "Just what I
wanted." Then she laughed.

"What? What's so funny?" Mulder asked quizzically.

"Most guys bring flowers," she teased. "You bring me a
laptop."

"Very funny." Mulder retorted. "You make it sound like I
didn't bring you anything else."

That got her attention and she craned her neck to look
around him and the traction set-up. "Well, I don't see
any new flowers, or nicely wrapped presents lying around,
and baseball is out for a while, so what is it?"

Mulder leaned back and took Scully's hands in his. The
look in his eye caused hers to widen and she grew silent,
waiting. Something was about to happen. She could feel
it. The air in the room suddenly became thicker and her
breath seemed to catch in her throat. Silently and
without taking his eyes off of hers, he released her right
hand to reach into his pocket. Scully kept her own eyes
on his face, trying to read the emotions that flickered
across it but not quite succeeding. When she felt him
fumble with her left hand, she jerked her gaze down to see
what he was doing.

She found herself staring at the most incredibly gorgeous
ring now on her left fourth finger. The brilliant
diamonds caught the light and reflected back at her like
the stars in the heavens above.

She was utterly speechless.

"Dana Scully - will you do me the ultimate honor of
marrying me and making my life complete?"

Transfixed by the beautiful ring and the magical words
that she never thought she'd ever hear cross his lips,
Scully was completely overwhelmed.

"Is that a yes?" Mulder asked, apprehensive at her
silence.

"Oh my God, Mulder," Scully breathed. "Yes. Most
definitely, absolutely, without a doubt - yes." And she
realized how true it was: without a doubt. She had doubts
before, but not anymore. They would work it out. They
would work everything out - together.

She carefully wrapped her arms around him and he buried
his face at her neck. The sensation of his
tears trailing down her back brought tears to her own eyes
and she pulled him even closer. The only thing in life
that mattered was holding her and she knew how foolish
they'd been to ever think otherwise.

"I love you, Scully," his voice muffled.

She smiled. "I'll always love you, Mulder."

Chapter 35

Abby checked her watch and quickly reviewed her patients'
charts, noting any new orders, keying in lab and x-ray
requests and verified that no medications would be due for
the next hour. She then rounded on her patients, making
sure that they were settled before tackling the charting
that she found so tedious and seemed to get worse every
year.

She ran into Director Skinner as he was leaving Dana
Scully's room. He had been in every other evening or so
and always had a kind word for her and the other nurses on
duty. They exchanged pleasantries and before heading out,
escorted her back to the nurses' station.

Abby tried not to groan as she gathered up her nurses
notes and settled in, hoping that the call buttons would
be silent long enough for her to finish.

Fifteen minutes had passed, when she heard the elevator
ding, signaling that someone was coming. She looked up
from her paperwork and couldn't help but smile when she
saw who exited. Agent Fox Mulder, grinning madly who did
not walk these days: he floated.

Abby discreetly elbowed the nurse siting next to her.
"Melody," she whispered. "Look who's coming."

Without raising her head, Melody glanced down the hall.
"What's he so happy about?" She whispered back as Mulder
got ever closer to their position.

"Hang on a sec and I'll tell you," Abby promised, then
quickly raised her head to greet the visitor. "Good
evening, Agent Mulder," she called cheerfully.

Mulder, eager as usual to get to Scully's room, hated to
delay, but politely acknowledged the two nurses who had
taken such good care of them.

"You just missed Director Skinner," Abby informed him.

"Thanks, Abby, I'll catch up with him in a bit," Mulder
responded. "See you later," and he was gone.

Melody looked over to see Abby grinning like a Cheshire
Cat. "All right - what's the scoop? Let me have it," she
demanded with a gleam in her eye.

"He proposed!" She crowed happily.

"What?!" Melody felt her mouth drop open. "You're
kidding!"

"Nope," Abby sighed, staring wistfully down the hall.
"Isn't it romantic?" she asked in a dreamy voice. "You
should see her ring - it's simply gorgeous. I had gone in
to give Dana her meds and her mom was there, saying she
just couldn't believe it, and they were all laughing and
crying. Dana was positively glowing and Fox couldn't keep
his hands off of her."

"Wow," Melody managed to get out, dumbstruck that she had
missed it. "That is so incredible. A real proposal on our
floor."

"I know," Abby said, "I just can't believe it either."

"Well, having recovered from my earlier shock - I can,"
Melody said knowingly.

"Why?" Abby asked, puzzled.

"Are you kidding? He's so in love with her, I couldn't
believe that they weren't married already." Melody
informed her, recounting Mulder's determination to see
Scully and what the ICU nurse had overheard.

"Yeah," Abby agreed. "But it's still romantic," she
sighed again, propping her chin on her hand and turned
her gaze back down the hall to Dana Scully's room.

Chapter 36

Unaware that he and Scully were the hot topic of
discussion at the nurses' station, he could hardly
contain his excitement as he bounded into her room.
He had been far too busy getting ready for Scully's
discharge and dodging her questions as to his
whereabouts and had missed her terribly. He was
bereft when he wasn't with her now, when he was unable
to simply reach out and touch her, and kiss her whenever
he wanted. And he wanted to all the time now.

He went straight to his now appointed place on the
bed, where he would expect Scully to smile beatifically up
at him as usual, inching over carefully to one side to
give him room to sit down next to her.

As he settled in and leaned over to kiss her hello, he
realized immediately that her smile was not quite as
bright today.

"Hey," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "What's wrong?
Are you hurting somewhere?" It took a monumental effort
on his part to keep the worry and fear out of his voice,
even as his stomach clenched painfully.

Scully reached up and clasped his hand in hers. "I'm
okay," she reassured him. "Just a little sad. Skinner
just left and he didn't exactly have good news."

Now Mulder was really worried. Had Skinner said something
to Scully about their getting married? They had told him
that details would be addressed after Scully's recovery
and not to worry.

"Abby told me he just left." Mulder said nervously.

"He just wanted to let us know that there still hasn't
been any sign of the Dickersons or Gibson." Scully told
him despondently. "Mom is just beside herself, even
though I told her that there's nothing she could have
done."

"That's right." Mulder agreed, slightly relieved. "In
fact, if it had just been her there Friday night, it's
possible that those guys wouldn't have done anything to
her and simply stepped up their search for the doc. Maybe
the extra time allowed him to escape."

"I tried to tell her that." Scully said. "Anyway, he
also told me that there's no way to get any further
forensic evidence to tell us exactly who Danielle was."

"Who?" Mulder asked, his confusion obvious.

"Danielle. The young woman who took care of us." Scully
stared at him. "Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't realize
that you didn't know her name."

"No, it's okay. It just took me by surprise," Mulder told
her. "We really haven't discussed her. Actually, I wanted
to tell you something that I didn't even tell Skinner."

"What?" Scully asked, intrigued.

"Before Diana killed her, she said that Deep Throat was
her father and that Diana killed him as surely as if she'd
pulled the trigger herself." Mulder admitted painfully.

"Oh my God," Scully whispered, shocked. "And we still
don't know Deep Throat's real name."

Mulder hung his head, shaking it sadly. "Right back where
we started."

Scully reached up and pulled him down, wrapping her arms
around him and hugging him as hard as she could. "But at
least we have each other."

"Yes, we do," Mulder replied and Scully could hear the
smile as he spoke.

Chapter 37

Mulder looked out the window in Scully's hospital room
and sighed heavily. On the day of her long-awaited
discharge, the rain was coming down in buckets.

<Torrential. Raining cats and dogs. > He sighed again.
<Knock it off, > he admonished himself. <You don't have
to be a human thesaurus to make a point. >

Under normal conditions, he knew that he wouldn't mind
getting a little wet. <Okay, a lot wet>. Scully wouldn't
mind either, he reasoned, if it meant getting out of the
hospital, but there was her cast to reckon with. The
huge, hip to foot, monstrosity that couldn't get wet under
any circumstances and the awnings over the patient loading
zones were ineffectual against horizontal rain.

And so they were forced to wait out the storm. Scully
had been dressed and ready to go when they heard the first
crash of thunder. Mulder left Jackie and another nurse to
help get Scully in the wheelchair while he had rushed out
to bring the Explorer he'd rented around. He was too
late. With a deafening crack of lightning and a
thundering boom, the rain began to pour from the black
clouds above.

Ignoring the "Do Not Park" signs posted everywhere, he'd
thrown the vehicle into park and turned off the ignition.
The wind was blowing hurricane force, nearly knocking him
to the ground as he ran out and by the time he'd gotten to
the door, he was completely drenched.

Jackie was just getting off the elevator, pushing Scully
in the wheelchair with her casted leg sticking straight
out in front of her, when she caught sight of the dripping
Mulder, now looking like a drowned rat. Without a word,
she backed into the elevator with Scully and waited for
him to catch up to them.

Scully stared up at him, smiling sadly. "Guess we should
have watched The Weather Channel, huh?"

"It's okay, guys," Jackie tried to console them. "Census
is low so nobody's waiting for your room. You can make
yourselves comfortable and I'll have them send up
something to eat, if you want."

"Nothing personal, Jackie," Mulder said ruefully, "but
I don't think either one of us wants to spend another
night here."

Jackie smiled in sympathy. "Oh, I understand. I always
tell my patients that I don't ever want to see them in
here again unless it's to visit."

Mulder and Scully exchanged amused glances as they were
ushered back to her recently vacated room and got Mulder
dried off.

Mulder was pulled from his reverie by a blinding streak of
lightning followed immediately by an explosion of thunder
causing him to reflexively jump back.

"Mulder," Scully called worriedly, raising her voice to be
heard above the rain pelting the glass, "please come away
from the window - you're scaring me."

He guiltily looked over at her, lying on the bed. She had
stubbornly refused to get under the covers saying that it
made her feel like a patient all over again. Quickly he
shut the curtains and resolutely turned his back on the
raging storm outside.

"Are you sure you don't want to get more comfortable?" he
asked, looking at the flowing skirt she wore. Maggie had
gotten Scully several different lightweight skirts that
they both felt world be easier to get over the cumbersome
cast.

"I'm fine, Mulder, really," she said, "but I'd feel
better if you were over here instead."

Mulder grinned. "Well, you know that I always feel better
when I'm next to you."

Another thunderclap drowned out Scully's reply and she
flicked her eyes over to the window, seeing a flash of
lightning around the edges of the curtains.

Mulder sat down next to her on the bed. "You want me
to doodle on your cast?"

Scully arched one eyebrow. "I don't think so, Mulder. I
have no intention of seeing any obscene pictures on this
thing and then trying to explain it to the doctor."

"How about I put it where you can't see it and then - I'll
- explain it to him," he teased her.

Scully swatted at him playfully as he easily backed out of
her reach with a laugh.

After explaining weather conditions to Maggie and the Lone
Gunmen, they spent the next two hours playing a variety of
card games and eating the sandwiches Mulder brought up
from the hospital cafeteria.

At last the thunder ended, but the wind and rain
showed no signs of stopping and Mulder finally laid down
next to Scully, his head nestled comfortably in her lap.
The sound of the falling rain soon lulled him to sleep as
did feeling Scully's hands lovingly roaming across his
face, his hair, stroking his shoulder and arm lightly.
She marveled when she felt him drift off to sleep and
thanked God that she was alive to do so.

Chapter 38

"Mulder, wake up," Scully gently nudged him.

"Huh? Wha - ?" Mulder mumbled incoherently, trying to
burrow deeper into her lap.

"Come on, Mulder. Wake up," she said insistently,
gripping his shoulder and shaking him. "The rain stopped.
Come on - let's go."

With a yawn, Mulder sat up and stretched lazily. "Wow.
That's what I call a power nap. How long was I asleep?"
he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Three hours," Scully answered, thinking how sexy that
"just woke up" voice was and how she rarely got to hear
it. Usually he was the one waking her up from a sound
sleep. <Might have to try waking him up more often, > she
briefly considered.

Mulder shook his head in amazement. "Unbelievable." He
looked at her closely. "How about you? Did you sleep?"

Scully shook her head. "I'm fine, don't worry. I'm much
too excited to sleep anyway. I kept thinking the storm
would quit any minute and I didn't want to be asleep when
it did." She pushed him up. "Now enough chit chat, come
on. Let's go. Let's get this show on the road."

She didn't add that she'd been worrying about what her
life was going to be like for the next several weeks. Her
tiny apartment, the wheelchair, the awkward crutches. She
imagined being confined to bed or the couch while Mulder
went to work, or being "babysat" by her mother. She loved
her mother, of course, but she just couldn't picture them
remaining friends cooped up in her apartment for days on
end. She hadn't expressed her fears to either Mulder or
Maggie, preferring to deal with it when she was
discharged. Now the time had come and as much as she
wanted to leave, part of her was dreading what came next.

Mulder bit back the chastising words that nearly escaped
his lips. <Well, maybe it'll work out for the best this
way, > he reasoned. <If she sleeps in the car, then I
won't have to explain where we're going.>

Chapter 39

Jackie was off duty, but Melody came in with the
wheelchair and she helped Mulder get Scully out of bed and
into the chair. Mulder glanced around the room one last
time to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything as Melody
wheeled Scully out.

Scully looked around for Mulder's car. Not finding it,
her confusion was made complete when Mulder opened the
only vehicle at the curb. "What's with the Explorer?" she
asked, puzzled.

"It'll be more comfortable for you to stretch out in,"
Mulder explained as he gently scooped her up. He eased her
into the back seat as Melody helped guide Scully's casted
leg.

Scully kissed his nose affectionately as she let Melody
and Mulder get her settled for the trip home, propping her
leg up with pillows and covering her snugly with a wool
blanket.

The heavy rains had brought cooler weather and Melody
shivered in her lightweight scrubs. "Do you have
everything?" she asked one last time, before Mulder
shut the door.

"I think so," Mulder responded. "I filled the
prescriptions yesterday and took them home with her
crutches and wheelchair."

"And I have the doctors' phone numbers and dates for
follow-up visits, as well as their lists of do's and
don'ts," Scully added with a grimace.

"Good. By the way, Abby called a little while ago and
wanted me to give you this." Melody handed Mulder a
slip of paper.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Her address. She wants a wedding invitation." Melody
said with a mischievous smile.

Mulder and Scully laughed in delight. "Don't worry,"
Mulder told her happily, "You're both invited. And
thanks for everything. Tell Abby too."

Scully nodded in agreement. "That's right. Your names
will be on the top of the list. Now get back inside
before you freeze out here." She scolded with a grin.

After a last round of good byes and well wishes, Melody
hurried back inside and Mulder jumped in the Explorer.
Huddled under the blanket, Scully waited patiently for him
to get the heater going, wishing that she had one of her
sweaters.

Mulder adjusted the vents and shifted in his seat so that
he could check on Scully stretched out behind him. "Is it
any warmer back there?" he asked in concern.

Scully nodded and reached out to take his hand and
squeezed it reassuringly. "Take me home, Mulder," she
said, unable to keep the fatigue out of her voice. Now
that she was out of the hospital, the adrenaline faded
away leaving her obviously exhausted.

Mulder kissed her hand. "Your wish is my command. Try
to rest, okay, Scully."

Scully needed no further encouragement and settled
back against the pillows. Her eyes slipped shut
immediately and within minutes she was sound asleep.

Chapter 40

With Scully sleeping behind him, Mulder pulled out his
cell phone and called Maggie to let her know that they
were on the road.

"Did you tell her?" Maggie asked, unable to hide her
glee. Although she'd had her doubts about Fox's plan at
first, it had turned out perfectly thus far and she could
hardly wait to hear Dana's reaction.

"Not yet," Mulder replied, as he flicked his gaze behind
him to check on Scully. "She's asleep right now."

"I'll call the boys and let them know." Maggie said.

Mulder had to choke back his laughter every time that
Maggie called the Lone Gunmen "the boys". He teased them
about it relentlessly even though he knew that they were
touched by Maggie's endearment.

"Are you sure you don't need me to come over?" Maggie
asked hopefully, breaking in on Mulder's thoughts.

"We'll be fine," he said with a quiet laugh. "Thanks again
for everything you've done."

"It was my pleasure, Fox." Maggie told him. "You just
take care of my baby girl."

"Always." Mulder vowed with an affectionate glance back at
his fiancée.

As he turned off the phone he realized that Scully had
shifted slightly, causing the blanket to fall away from
her feet. Diligently keeping his eyes on the road, he
managed to pull the blanket back over them without waking
her up.

He began to mull the word fiancée over in his mind.
Fiancée. Over the past years, Dana Scully had been so
many things to him; so many necessary things. Now she was
taking on a new role, albeit a temporary one. He intended
to elevate her to wife as soon as humanly possible. That
meant a wedding.

He groaned silently. While he knew that he'd never get
away with the quick Vegas ceremony he envisioned, he
desperately hoped that he wouldn't be subjected to an
overblown, ostentatious affair, rivaling a royal wedding.

Then he remembered sadly that Dana was Maggie's only
daughter now. That, directly or indirectly, depending on
his mood, he was responsible for Melissa's wrongful death.

He shook his head and vowed right then and there to go
along with whatever Maggie and Scully wanted. He owed her
that much. He owed her so much more.

Chapter 41

"Hey, sleepyhead - rise and shine back there." Mulder
called, as he pulled into the driveway. He turned on the
interior light, causing Scully to groan and immediately
cover her eyes.

"Mulder -"

"Come on, Scully. Time to go inside." He turned the
light off and then the engine.

"Thank you," she muttered, trying to let her eyes adjust.

Scully glanced around, realizing how dark it was. She
pulled herself up as far as she could. <Wait a minute.
Why is it so dark? Where are all the streetlights? Where
is all the traffic? >

"Mulder, what's going on? Where are we?" she asked,
trying to see outside.

"Just a minute, Scully and all will be made clear." Mulder
answered her with a grin as he climbed out of the
Explorer.

Scully impatiently waited for him to help her out, her
curiosity piqued. She heard the door open behind her, and
then Mulder was easing her backwards, out of the car.
Gripping the top of the doorway, she tried to help him,
but he admonished her to let him do all the work. Scully
huffed silently and tried to mask her discomfort as the
pain in her leg flared when Mulder lifted her up. She bit
her lip to keep any sound at bay, burying her head in
Mulder's shoulder.

"Sorry, Scully," Mulder whispered contritely, as he got
her out at last. He stepped away from the car and Scully
shook her head.

"I'm okay," she whispered back, kissing his cheek. She
looked around, trying to determine where he had taken her,
since it obviously wasn't to her apartment, his apartment,
or her mother's house.

It was so dark and quiet, she knew immediately that they
weren't in the city. "Mulder, where are we?" she asked,
seeing a charming clapboard house with a brightly lit
porch.

Mulder just held her tighter and moved up the steps. With
some careful maneuvering, he was able to get the front
door open and step inside, with jarring her leg any
further.

Scully caught smell the fresh paint and caught sight of a
light switch within her reach. "Mulder - let me get the
lights." She indicated the switch over his shoulder and
Mulder paused long enough for her to turn them on. She
looked around expectantly.

It took a minute for Scully to realize why the couch
seemed so familiar. It was hers. And wasn't that lamp
the same one on his desk? What was her computer doing
here? And who put her wall hanging in the hallway?

Mulder moved to her (?!) couch and set her down,
delighting in the look of utter shock on her face. Her
blue eyes were wide as she looked around, missing nothing.
Familiar items mixed with unknown, all in a place she'd
never been before.

Finally she found her voice - barely. "What's going on?"
she asked, her voice as soft as a whisper. "Where are we?"

"Quonochontaug."

Scully's mouth worked, struggling mightily to make sense
of it, to respond verbally. She felt like Alice and her
she was, right in the middle of Wonderland without any
warning.

When she saw that Mulder was grinning from ear to ear,
nearly bursting with excitement, she threw up her hands in
defeat. "I give up."

"My mom said that the house is ours to do with as we
please, for as long as we want. The guys hooked up cable
- satellite dish - the computer. You mom made or bought
enough food to last into the millenium. I think that the
whole town got together to get this place ready to live
in, including wheelchair ramps and made sure that the
furniture and stuff was arranged so that you could
maneuver around them easily."

Scully was still having a hard time taking it all in, and
blinked in surprise. <The whole town? > "You mean I'm
going to be living here?"

"Well, me too, if that's okay," Mulder said with a wink.

"But - but - won't that be a long commute? Or are you
just going to be here on weekends?" Scully asked,
confusion maintaining its firm grip.

Mulder took her hands in his. "Oh, didn't I tell you?"
he asked innocently.

Scully's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Tell me what?" she
asked slowly, not sure if she was ready to know what.

"I'm not going back to D.C. without you. Period." He
announced.

Scully simply stared at him. Realization of the full
meaning of his words sunk in. "The X-files - ?" she broke
off uncertainly.

"I told you, Scully. I don't want to do this without you.
The X-files will always be there. I'm not going back to
work until you've recovered."

She opened her mouth to point out that her level of
recovery was unknown at this point, but he cut her off.

"I know what you're going to say. I do. And we'll cross
that bridge when we come to it. The only future I can see
is you by my side, whether it's the FBI, the X-files,
whatever. So, if you'll have me, this is where I'll be."
He paused a moment. "I love you, Scully. With all my
heart."

Scully didn't try to stop her tears as the liquid fire of
his love coursed through her heart, her soul and her mind,
burning away confusion, doubt and uncertainty.

The complexity of their lives fell away. It was simply a
man named Fox Mulder, passionately in love with a woman
named Dana Scully, who reciprocated that love and at this
moment in time, nothing else mattered.

"I love you, Mulder. Stay with me." She said, opening
her arms.

"Always." He vowed with a radiant smile as he moved to
pull her close, kissing her softly. "Welcome home."