*Authors notes [VM]:

Once upon a time there was a girl in Ontario and one in
Illinois who had waaaay too much time on their hands. And
they liked to write. And one day, one of them (and I'll be
darned if I can remember which one) said, 'let's write
something together'. And this is the result. It is a
relationship story. It is an alternate universe story.
It's an angsters paradise. It brings in a couple of new
characters who we hope you will learn to love as much as we
have. And it spawned a whole new set of questions : ) But
we had a blast doing it.

NO SPOILERS (it took us so long, I think we might have
started it before season three premiered)

Some parts are rated mild R--really really mild R--and the
rest is PG. Oh, we do use a couple of nasty words, but only
in context.

Char, do you want to say a few words? (make it brief, kid.
The natives look restless)

*Authors Notes [CH]:

Uh, is there anything left to say? Oh yeah, Vickie lied,
there are a few spoilers, I think. At least a few from the
beginning of season three. Tunnels, Vick... Anyway, you can
debate that between yourselves. Brief? You write half a
page and I get to make mine brief? <sigh> Okay... Uhm, it's
been a pleasure working with Vickie. She's the second
person I've ever written with and I must say I'm delighted
the way this has turned out. It was a long time in the
writing but worth the wait (well, for myself, anyway)
so I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it...

Hey! Put those bloody spears down... <backing away> Okay,
shutting up...

*Disclaimer: We wouldn't infringe for the world! We love
you CC and we are more than willing to let you make all the
money in the world off these characters. And when I get
more than one client, I (vm) plan on buying stock in FOX so
that I can say I own a little piece of them, too :)

And now, on with the show:

T h e
- -
\ /
X BED SPRINGS
/ \ By Vickie Moseley & Charleyne Hall
- - vmoseley@fgi.net
F i l e s drakkar@bconnex.net

Part One

-----

Kingsley Hotel, Conference Wing
Washington, DC
August 17, 1996

It was unbelievably warm in the auditorium. He couldn't
concentrate on the speaker. He couldn't concentrate on
anything. He was too worried about the sweat that seemed to
drip endlessly from his brow, threatening to land on his
tuxedo, staining it. He wiped his forehead with a small
handkerchief and strained to pay attention.

". . . And as a pleasant surprise, we have some positions
opening up this year that are open to our best field agents. . ."
the man at the podium said.

Fox Mulder just couldn't stand it any more. He muttered
something to the woman next to him, an agent he'd never seen
before, and carefully made his way down the row of people to
reach the exit. He pushed out the door and stood for a few
moments, letting the silence of the room envelope him. He
was in a bigger room, a lobby, which had several other rooms
and hallways that branched off in all directions.

He released a sigh and ran a hand through his neatly kept
brown hair. He took a few breaths, then made his way to a
table which held cups of drinks in Dixie cups. He smiled and
took a glass of water. The coolness of the liquid over his
tongue made him feel much better. He paused one more time,
drinking down the last of the water, before returning to the
auditorium from which he had just come.

He took a seat near the back of the room, so that if he
had to leave again, he'd be able to make a hasty exit. He
paid closer attention to the speaker this time, while looking
over the crowded room.

It was filled with FBI agents from all different fields,
all dressed immaculately and all sitting patiently, waiting to
hear who would get the next award, promotion or
commendation. There were a great many female agents, as
well as male, most dressed formally. He glanced about the
crowd, looking for his partner.

When he didn't see her, he assumed that she'd left the
room for some air, just as he had. He stopped searching and
turned his attention back to the speaker, but soon after he had
finished talking. There was no mention of his name or his
partner's. He was glad in a way. He knew they should have
been rewarded in some way for the most recent case they had
solved, but he didn't want a public display. It was all too fresh
in his memory and he didn't want to relive it in front of a
roomful of strangers.

The auditorium quickly began to empty, tired and hot
agents streaming out. Mulder walked casually among them,
then found a spot near the wall where he could stand and
drink his water in relative peace. Before long, he found
himself getting bored.

He watched, with an amused grin, as the Assistant
Director of the FBI began to walk towards him. When the
man reached him, he held out his hand.

"Agent Mulder," Walter Skinner said as Mulder shook his
hand. Mulder was somewhat confused as to why the FBI
A.D. would be so boldly shaking his hand.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Have you seen Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, scanning
the room for the woman Mulder himself had been looking for,
earlier.

"No, sir, I haven't. I don't even know if she's here,"
he said. It was unlike Dana Scully not to show up to a
mandatory awards ceremony, and Mulder began to feel a pang
of worry, although he quickly pushed it away. Scully could
take care of herself.

"All right. Well, when you see her, I need to see the
both of you." Skinner's frown was replaced by a smile as he
nodded to Mulder, then made his way off to congratulate
some of the other award winners.

Mulder watched the tall, balding man for a few
minutes, then decided it was time to leave. He searched his
pockets for his car keys and then slowly began to walk to the
door, clutching them in his hand.

-----

FBI Headquarters
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, DC

Mulder breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into the dark
office. Dark, except for the glowing monitor in the far corner
of the room. In the glow, he could see the silhouette of a
person. He smiled then.

"Scully?" he asked, closing the door, removing his
coat and blindly hanging it on the coat rack beside the door.

"Mulder," she said. He took a moment to turn and
flick on the light of the office. For a moment his eyes needed
to adjust, he blinked. When he opened his eyes, he could see
Scully sitting behind the console. She wore a green strapless
dress, that fit to her body perfectly. Her auburn hair was
shiny and curled, locks of it hanging in her green eyes.

Mulder suppressed a reaction that had triggered deep in
his stomach and had tried to work its way through out his
body. He sighed, pulling at his bow tie, as he crossed the
room to sit in a chair next to her.

"So, what are you doing?" he asked, puzzled.

"Working on the report we were supposed to file
yesterday," she replied, then turned her gaze to him.

"You didn't go, did you?" The look on her face told
him the answer already.

"No. I didn't feel like going. I got all dressed up, then
decided that I wasn't going to go. Besides," she tapped
the monitor. "This was really supposed to be in."

"Scully, maybe you should stop working for just a
moment," he said, then he reached for her hand. "What's
really bothering you?" he asked. He thought he saw her
curse under her breath, but she only gave him a weak smile.

"Mulder, I'm just not feeling so well," she said, but
he knew she was lying.

"Have you eaten anything tonight?" He allowed the lie
slide.

"Not yet but--"

"But nothing. Since we're both all dressed up, we're
going out for dinner. I'll buy," he said. Scully gave him a
grin.

"Well, if it's your treat, then I can't pass that up," she
reached forward and tugged at his tie. "Need any help with
that?" she asked, indicating the tie that hung loosely around
his neck. There wasn't a mirror that he could look in to do it
up again.

"I suppose," he said, standing up and moving back so
that she'd be able to reach. He watched as she got out of the
chair in a liquid motion, the green pumps on her feet adding a
bit of height. She reached forward and gently tied the tie. As
he felt the closeness of her, that feeling rose again. This time
he allowed it to linger longer, before pushing it to the side and
washing it away with thoughts of their friendship.

"Did Skinner talk to you yet?" she asked as she
stepped away to look at his tie, making sure it wasn't crooked.

"About?"

"Well, I'm not sure I should--" she said, then stopped.
Mulder stepped forward and gripped her bare shoulders
gently.

"Believe me, if I'm getting into trouble again, I'd like
to know about it." He fixed her with an unnerving stare,
hoping to get her to talk. He knew she'd tell him anyway,
but he liked to make her feel intimidated.

"That's just it, Mulder. You're not getting into
trouble," she said. The unnerving stare wasn't working so
well. It sounded as though she wasn't going to tell him.

"Well, then I guess I can wait for Skinner to tell me,"
he said, although he would try other tactics later, when she
least suspected it. She nodded, picking up her purse and
jacket from the back of her chair. "You're going to get it for
not showing, Scully," Mulder teased as they left the
office, heading for the fresh night air of Washington, DC.

-----

Dana Scully picked at the salad, watching as Mulder
devoured his steak. She didn't feel much like eating. In fact,
she was so torn up inside that she really didn't even feel like
being with Mulder. Their last case had been so big, so
intense, that neither had gotten much sleep or, for that matter,
time to do anything. It had all paid off, though, that being
the reason she was so torn up.

Skinner had called her at home, the day after they
wrapped up the case, to talk. At her home, was the key, that
meant something big was happening. She had listened quietly
as he used small talk to work his way up to what he really
wanted. She remembered back to the conversation.

"Hello, Agent Scully?" The man had asked, in an
unusually cheerful tone.

"Yes?" she'd asked, almost too exhausted to talk to
him. She had been lying on her couch peacefully watching an
old black and white, soundless movie.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your recent success,"
he stated flatly.

"Thank you, sir," she yawned.

"Actually, I called for another reason as well. I know
I should have perhaps done this in my office, one on one, but
it can't wait until your holidays are up."

"Sir?"

"Well, Dana," he said, using her first name. "There are a
few positions opening up that need to be filled as soon as
possible..." he trailed off, she could almost picture him
pondering what to say next. "The director and I have
discussed it. We would like to give you and Agent Mulder
the chance to move up in the Bureau," he finally said. Scully
had sat up then, turning the annoying television off. The
images had begun to hurt her eyes.

"Sir, that's great! I'll talk to Mulder and see what
he says," she offered, but Skinner had refused.

"I prefer to talk to Agent Mulder myself. I will do it
at the annual awards service. However, I want you to consider
carefully and let me know," he said, then after a few more
words had hung up.

From that night on, Scully had felt both happiness and
a dire sadness.

A hand was waving in front of her face. She smiled,
focusing on Mulder's face. Just the sight of him made her
shiver with an excitement. She pushed the feeling aside, then
smiled at him again. She liked it when he dressed formally.
It impressed her, as well as others around them, to see
*Spooky* Mulder dressed up. His black tuxedo seemed to
hang on his body perfectly. His brown hair was brushed and
slightly gelled, a few stray strands hanging over his eyes.
Even his big hazel eyes had a special allure when he was
dressed in such a formal matter.

Even though Scully knew that he hated to be dressed
like that, she thought he was perfect for it. No other man
suited a bow tie like Mulder did. She watched as he
played with it now, knowing that he couldn't wait to get out of
it.

"Did I tie that too tight?" she asked, and he instantly
dropped his hand to the table.

"Nah, just hate these things." She nodded, then finally
stabbed a piece of lettuce and put it into her mouth. As she
chewed, she decided that she would tell Mulder she'd been
offered a promotion.

"Mulder, can we talk for a minute?" she asked, after
she'd chewed the lettuce. She wasn't feeling like eating. She
pushed the plate away, and set her elbows on the table,
folding her hands beneath her chin.

"Sure, what's up?" A look of concern crossed his
face. You should be concerned, she thought, rather selfishly.

"Well, I was talking to Skinner the other night and he
mentioned something to me. . ." she trailed off, looking for
the much needed words to explain. She knew that telling him
about the offer of promotion would upset him. It would mean
that she would be leaving the X-Files, probably for good.
The fact that he would soon be offered a promotion too,
somewhat eased her pain, but she still felt miserable.

"And?" he probed, hoping that she would continue.

"Well, Mulder, I've been offered a promotion and I'm
heavily considering it," she finally blurted, deciding
that the best way is the straight way.

"Scully, that's great!" he said, not a hint of remorse
was in his voice. A great weight lifted off her chest and she
found herself breathing a little easier.

"Mulder, I thought you'd be upset. . ."

"Scully, it's what you've wanted for so long, why
would I be upset?" he asked, fixing her with one of the
happiest smiles she'd ever seen. There seemed to be
something wrong with the picture, but his happiness really
looked genuine.

"I just thought--"

"Scully, believe me, you thought wrong. If you have
the chance to move up, then by all means take it! It's the best
thing for you. I'll be able to handle the X-Files, heaven
knows I've done it before." She smiled then, his words made
her feel so much better.

"I guess I wanted you to be a little upset," she said,
smiling. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, but she
waved it off. "Mulder, I'm just so glad that you're okay with
this, because I'm seriously considering it."

*****

End Part One

T h e X - F i l e s
Bed Springs
by Vickie Moseley & Char Hall
vmoseley@fgi.net & drakkar@bconnex.net

-----

Mulder's Apartment
September 1, 1995
9:37 pm

It had all happened so quickly, it still made his head swim.
They had both received promotions. Nice hefty promotions
that gave them good salary bumps, more vacation days <which
you won't use,> and offices that had heat, and windows. Even
though Scully was all the way over in Quantico, and he was
still in Headquarters, they ended up at all the same staff
meetings, all the same briefings, and managed to talk on the
phone to each other about a dozen times a day. In short, it
was exactly what he had been hoping for.

He closed his eyes for a moment and the image flashed in
his mind again. He saw the gun fire, saw the killer's face twist
into a sneer as he knew that the bullet would hit his target. He
heard himself screaming and pulling his own gun into range
and firing before he even saw her fall. And then the killer was
down, and Mulder dropped his own weapon, ran over to
Scully and was positive he would find her dead. Tears were
already streaming down his face as he saw all the blood, the
bullet had torn right along the hairline. He was trembling as he
lifted her into his arms and he was sobbing and suddenly . .
.she was struggling!

"You're hurting me, Mulder," she had rasped as she tried to
sit up, still dizzy and woozy. "And you're getting my blouse
soaked. . ."

The bullet had glanced off her temple. The blood was
actually much less than it could have been, but seemed ample
enough to Mulder. He had practically carried her to the
ambulance and strapped her down on the gurney. All the
while she was being checked out, he was vowing to himself
<Never again. Never, ever, ever again.> And this time, he
would make it stick.

A couple of phone calls to the Hill and suddenly, it was
'Skinner's idea' to promote them to the new positions. His Hill
contacts were only too pleased to get Mulder into a 'safer'
position. Even Senator Matheson had pointed out that it was
hard to 'find the truth' from a grave. Judging from the last
year, there were far too many close calls to ignore the wisdom
of that statement.

He shifted positions on the couch and his gaze fell on the
picture of Samantha. He never looked at that picture without
a twinge in his heart. "I'm not giving up, Sam. I'm not. It's
just that I can't risk Scully's life anymore! Too much has
happened, too many times we've been too close and one of
these days. . ." he let his voice trail off. "But I'm not giving
up. I'm just changing my position on the chess board. I'll be in
a different spot, more authority, more responsibility. More
like a knight than a pawn. Closer to the top. It can only help
me find you, find the truth. I promise." The ringing of the
phone broke him out of his reverie.

"Mulder."

"Are we still on for tomorrow?" asked the all too familiar
voice on the other end of the line.

"Scully, I don't know. I mean, this is a big step for me.
Maybe we should just slow down, let me get used to the idea. .
."

"No way am I going to let you out of this now, Mulder,"
Scully growled into the phone. "It is not healthy for you and
you know it. Besides, who ever heard of an ASAC who didn't
own a *bed*! If word ever got out. . ."

"Okay, okay, point made. But I don't want to spend all day
looking at furniture. I'd rather have my teeth drilled. How
about a movie or two or three after we make this momentous
decision in my life," he teased.

"ONLY if you actually BUY the bed, Mulder. That can be
your reward. I'll be by at 9:30 to pick you up, so be ready,
okay?"

"Yes, master," he said in a zombie voice. "See you
tomorrow morning," he added and hung up the phone. As
long as he still had Scully in his life, the changes he was
making were really superficial. It would all work out, he was
sure of it.

-----

The shopping mall was crowded and Mulder couldn't help but
feel a little self conscious. He towered over most of the people,
including his friend who now stood beside him, tapping her foot
impatiently.

"Come on, Mulder, now's not the time to ponder over which
pillow case you want," she said, grabbing at the bag which held
a plain blue set of pillow cases.

"Scully, I thought this was all part of buying the bed. . ." he
said, trailing off and looking around the huge department store
that she had dragged him into. She smiled at him, waving her
hand and indicating the large selection of beds for him to choose
from.

"Why don't we worry about getting the bed first, then you can
dress it on your own!" she said, tossing the pillow cases back
onto the rack. She gently took hold of his arm, pulled him to one
of the beds then pushed him back onto it. He flopped onto the
soft mattress, losing his balance. She towered over him,
grinning.

"It's perfect, I'll take it," he murmured.

"Mulder," she rolled her eyes. "You've at least got to try a
few others first!"

"Why? I'll never use it," he said, sitting up and bouncing
lightly on it. Then a grin crossed his face and he perked up.
"Why don't you," he said slowly, then he reached out and
roughly pushed her in the stomach, sending her backwards,
toppling onto the bed across from him. ". . .test that one out for
me?" He watched her bounce.

"Hey!" she cried, sitting up and laughing. "Not fair!"
Mulder smiled, he didn't know he could have so much fun
shopping.

He and Scully checked out a few more beds, before deciding
on the first one that he'd tried. Mulder pulled out his credit card
and paid for it, arranging to have it delivered the following day to
his apartment. The clerk who took his card smiled at him, then
noticed Scully who was over looking at the pillow cases again.

"Don't let your girlfriend pick those for you, you'll end up
with pink ones," he said, winking at Mulder.

"She's not my--" Mulder began, but then the clerk laughed,
as Scully picked up a bag containing pink pillow cases. Mulder
turned back to the clerk. "I won't let her buy those. It's bad
enough that she's making me get the stupid bed!" he said,
reaching out and retrieving his card. He turned and walked away
before he could hear the clerk's laugh.

"Well, good luck, my friend," the clerk said, and went to help
another customer. Mulder smiled as he slowly walked towards
Scully. She smiled, holding up a set of blue pillow cases. This
was definitely a different Dana Scully. This was not the person
who had stood at his back a thousand times, gun drawn, ready to
blow away some particularly nasty killer or mutant or whatever
they had encountered. This was too much like. . .what had the
clerk said? <Your girlfriend,> Mulder reminded himself. He
shook his head violently.

<Scully is *not* your girlfriend,> his inner voice chided.
<She's your part-- whoops, no, she's *not* your partner,
anymore either. Okay, then *what* is she?> His thoughts
demanded an answer. Scully had put down the blue pillow cases
and had just picked up a set with Marvin the Martian emblazoned
on them, proclaiming, "Greetings, Earthling." Her face broke
into one of those rare and precious smiles that had welcomed
him back in Alaska. She looked up at him, still smiling and
holding out the pillowcases for him to see. <She's beautiful, you
dolt,> he answered the inner voice. <That's what she is--
beautiful!> Mulder grabbed her arm, releasing a chuckle.

"Let's just get out of here, Scully. I've had enough shopping
for one day."

"You did good. I guess I have to keep my end of the bargain:
rent some movies and have you over to my place for spaghetti,
huh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, Scully, I don't feel like it. Now that you've bullied me
into getting a bed, I want to go home and relax on my sturdy old
couch," he said, shrugging. "But I am willing to let you rent us
some movies and buy us some Chinese take out."

"Mulder," Scully began, rolling her eyes. He laughed, then
took her arm in his and began to lead her out of the department
store.

"Scully, I really have to get out of here, before I shoot
myself," he complained as they made their way to the car.
Scully smiled, feeling the weight of his arm against hers. She
almost didn't want to let go when he walked her to the passenger
side of the car and waited as he opened the door.

-----

FBI Headquarters
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, DC
7:30 AM

Michael Callavelo stood looking around the office. Not much
was left from the previous owners. A few posters here and
there, two desks and a bunch of filing cabinets which were empty
now. A 1994 calendar, resplendent in the fact that most of the
women pictured were clothed in little more than enlarged pieces
of hardware and tools, was still denoting the month of
November. <Wonder what that's all about?> Mickey asked
himself. <Probably something involving 'aliens', no doubt.> On
one corner of the desk was a coffee machine, which was now
brewing a pot. He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark
hair.

Mickey was still a little peeved at ending up here. More
punishment, obviously. It was amazing that the same Attorney
General who could so blatantly forget the actual events that led
up to the Waco fiasco, as the press referred to it, could have
such a long memory over a mere slip of the tongue. If FBI
agents weren't supposed to talk to the press, why had the PR
department set him up with that damn interview to begin with?

He pulled open one of the file drawers. An empty folder
stared up at him. It had the markings of an X file, blue and white
stripes ran the length of the folder. It was empty, waiting for
some unexplained occurrence to fill it with paper and photos.
What on earth was an X-File anyway? He growled and slammed
the drawer shut, venting some of the anger he felt. A low whistle
behind him made him gasp and turn around.

"You should watch your temper, Big Boy," the tall woman
that stood in the doorway said, as she approached carrying a
large brief case and a few file folders under her arm. "Chloe
Grant, your new partner," she continued, putting the briefcase
down and offering her hand.

"Pleased to meet you," he mumbled, checking his anger
slightly. "Michael Callavelo, but you can call me Mickey," he
was surprised by the power in her grip. That was generally a
good thing. He quickly released her hand, taking a moment to
look over her. She wasn't overly beautiful, but she definitely
wasn't nasty to look at. She had long locks of sandy blond hair,
which she wore loosely pulled into an elastic, wisps hanging
behind her ears. Her eyes matched her light azure blazer. She
wore a pair of dress pants and some comfortable looking loafers.
In other words, the image of a typical agent.

Finally he smiled, feeling most of the anger he had previously
felt, draining out of him. He looked to the coffee pot and then
nodded.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've got some Ginseng tea that I'm
going to brew up a little later," she replied, picking up her
briefcase again. She made her way to the other desk, putting
down the file folders and looking around a bit. "Nice office,"
she said, smiling.

"Yeah. Guess who had it before us?"

"Spooky Mulder?"

"Yup. That's him. He and Doctor Dana Scully had worked
here for four years before getting promoted. Now it's ours."

"So we can continue on the X-Files. . ." She said, nodding at
the small office.

"Listen, I don't know if you could tell, but I'm not really all
that happy about being here. I'm not even sure just what an X-
File is. I mean," he paused, gathering thoughts and trying to
assemble them in a reasonable fashion. "I mean, I know they
have to do with paranormal but I just don't see--" He stopped,
frustrated that his words wouldn't come out.

"Mickey, I want to show you something," Chloe said, pulling
up a chair and opening one of the folders that she'd carried in.
She spread a bunch of black and white photos out on the desk
and moved back, allowing him to study them.

"What is this?" He asked, swallowing nervously. The grin
had long since faded from her face.

"Our first case," she said, leaning back in the chair and
putting her feet up on the desk, hands linked behind her head.

As he studied the photos Mickey began to feel sick. Each
photo showed a young child, between the age of eight
and twelve. Six in all, and most of them were females. He
couldn't tell, just by looking, what had killed them, but he was
sure that the report would detail that much information. He
raised an eyebrow and picked up one of the photos for a closer
look. He looked to his new partner, wondering what she thought
of the situation. She stared forward, towards the door, no
expression on her face. He put the photo down and cleared his
throat.

"Uhm, where's the autopsy reports?" he asked, picking
through the folder.

"Right here," she said and flipped to the very last page of the
file. She looked up at him then, a grimace on her face. "I don't
know what you believe about human DNA testing, but this case
is clear cut. Those children were used in some sort of
experiments. Their circulatory systems have been completely
changed. The blood is not red, it's green."

"G-green?"

"Yes, green."

"That's impossible."

"I know, but this is the X-Files. I've been told to expect
anything."

"But this is our first case!"

"I know, that's what I thought, but apparently they aren't
going to let us get used to this stuff. I'm supposed to have a
meeting with Agent Mulder to discuss this case, but frankly that
man scares me," she said, tilting her head forward and groaning.

"Would you like me to go with you?" he asked, pulling up a
chair beside her.

"I wouldn't mind. I just don't know what to tell him. We've
been here for less than an hour and we're already onto our first
case. No time to prepare. Nothing!" she cried.

"Maybe he can give us some advice to get us going," Mickey
suggested. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a
package of Certs. "Mint?" he asked. She shook her head,
and sighed. The two of them studied the case, discussing
possibilities and leads, uncomfortable with such a strange case to
start off their work. What neither knew, was that the cases
would only get stranger.

-----

Grandure Cafe
Quantico, VA
12:34 PM

"Here. Take a look at this," Fox Mulder said, tossing a
picture towards Dana Scully. She eyed him curiously for a
moment. Both were seated outside at a cafe, beneath a big
umbrella. Scully sipped at a root beer, Mulder an iced tea.

"Mulder," she said, glancing at her watch. "It's almost time
for my classes to start again." She picked up the picture and
glanced at it. She raised her eyes. "So?" She asked, putting the
picture down again and pushing it across the table towards him.

"So? Scully, this is the most recent X-File."

"Mulder, we're not part of the X-Files anymore," Scully
pointed out.

"I know that. The agent who's now in the department called
me up this morning. Name's Chloe Grant, her partner's Michael
Callavelo, anyway, she's new to this sort of case and she wanted
a little advice. I told her that I would meet with her at three
today and help her out a bit, but you've got to take a look at the
autopsy report."

"Mulder, I have to teach in twenty minutes, I don't have time
for this," she said, pushing back her chair.

"Please?" he begged. She stopped as she had begun to get
up, and leaned across the table, putting her face just inches from
his.

"Forget it," she said.

"You made me get that damned bed!"

"Which has absolutely nothing to do with this."

"I need your help."

"It's not your case."

"They'll fuck it up."

"Mulder, stop it! You're going to have to accept that the X-
Files aren't yours anymore. You gave them up in order to further
your career. I gave them up so that I could go teach, which is
what I'm going to do."

"The autopsy report, it's on your desk. Take a look at it."

"I'll see," she said as she walked away from the table. As she
passed the waiter, she gave him a few bills, covering her meal,
and walked quickly away. Mulder watched as she disappeared
into a crowd of people on the sidewalk. He smiled when she was
gone, musing that she could be so stubborn, but he guessed it
was his own fault. He had arranged for the promotions and now
he had to live with the consequences. But that didn't mean that
he had to completely give up the X-Files. While he had faith in
the new agents, he knew he would be able to pull their strings
from his new position. His grin increased as he began to think
about all the things he could now do.

*****

End Part Two

T h e X - F i l e s
Bed Springs
by Vickie Moseley & Char Hall
vmoseley@fgi.net & drakkar@bconnex.net

Part Three

-----

Quantico FBI Training Facility
Quantico, VA
Offices of Dana Scully
2:00 PM

Dana glanced at the file folder that had been left on her
desk. After looking at that picture today, she found herself
wondering just what was in the file. She hated the way Fox
Mulder could make her do anything he wanted. She hated to
feel that vulnerability.

She glanced around the office. She had been given a large
office and she even had a secretary. A secretary, a wonderful
young man who seemed pleased to be working for her. For
some reason, a male secretary seemed out of place, but she
supposed it was part of the evolution of the male dominance
thing.

Scully put her hand on the folder, then it finally called to
her one last time. She pulled out her glasses and slipped them
on. "Fine, Mulder, just this last time!" she mumbled to
herself, eliciting look from her secretary, who sat at his desk
just outside the open door. She smiled and waved at him, then
gingerly opened the folder, almost afraid to see what was
inside. Before she could begin to read the first line, she heard
muffled voices. She looked up to find a very tall, blond haired
woman and a slightly shorter black haired man, standing
outside the door conferring with her secretary.

She frowned, stood up and went to the door, watching the
exchange. She cleared her throat and watched as all three
turned in her direction.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked, using an
authoritative voice.

"No, no problem--" the secretary began, but the tall
woman, who's eyes had lit up and widened, stepped forward
and pushed her hand toward Scully.

"Dana Scully, I'm so very pleased to finally meet you!"
Scully glanced over the woman and her expression softened.
She didn't know this woman, but was impressed by the aura
that she presented. She reached out and gripped her hand.
She glanced to the man beside the woman, who was standing
very straight, in a professional manner. He, too, gave her the
impression of being a take-charge kind of guy. Her gaze
returned to the woman as their handshake ended.

"Forgive me, but should I know you two?" Scully asked,
nodding toward the man.

"Oh, my God," the woman said, and the man cringed
slightly. "I completely gapped. I'm Special Agent Chloe Grant
and this is Special Agent Michael Callavelo. We're in charge
of the X-Files department."

It finally dawned on Scully, and she nodded, smiling.
Mulder had done it again.

"Agent Mulder sent you here, didn't he?" she asked,
stepping aside and allowing them to enter her office. Scully
smiled as they walked past, shrugged to her secretary then
followed them in, closing the door behind her.

"Actually, no. Agent Mulder hasn't seen us yet," she said,
and then Scully remembered that his appointment wasn't until
three.

"I see, well, what can I help you with?" Scully said as she
took a seat across from them at her desk.

"To tell the truth, I had to meet you. I followed your work
all through Quantico, hoping that I'd get the chance to finally
meet you. Acquiring your old department has given me the
excuse to introduce myself to you. I'm sorry, it seems a little
out of hand, but I just love the work you do," Grant said,
smiling. Scully was awed. No one had ever seemed to take an
interest in her work. Despite herself, she felt that somehow
without having known each other, they had bonded. There
was just something about the woman that reminded Scully of
her sister Melissa, something that made her feel like protecting
the younger agent.

"Well, I'm flattered," she mumbled, not knowing what else
to say. The man beside the woman looked up and grumbled,
crossing his arms across his chest. "Something wrong, Agent?"
Scully asked, leaning back in the chair.

"Oh, no. Nothing. I'm sorry, just clearing my throat," he
said, without looking up from his hands which were twisting in
his lap.

"He's just sore that I dragged him out here," Chloe said,
and gave Mickey a smile. He just smiled sarcastically at her
and shrugged.

"That's not it at all. May I be frank?" he asked,
straightening his back even more.

"Always," Scully said. She wasn't used to this treatment,
especially from other agents. After all, she was still an agent,
it wasn't as though she were his superior.

"Well, to begin with, I've never followed your work very
closely and I'm not sure what your role as Mulder's partner
was, but I just seem to have this old fashioned Italian opinion
that women are supposed to be at--" He stopped, a glare from
Chloe cutting off his sentence. Scully watched as Grant cut
him into pieces with her eyes, and she nearly burst out
laughing.

"Michael," Scully began.

"Mickey, please."

"Fine. Mickey, I want you to understand that I'm not
insulted by what you're trying to say. It seems to me that
you've insulted your partner even more than you have me, but
as Mulder's partner, I was an equal. We both had our share of
work and we both did things that might have seemed incorrect.
You'll find that with the X-Files, no matter how hard you try,
there will be instances when you just cannot follow the rules,"
she stopped, allowing them to process what she was saying.
Grant seemed to be beaming, while Callavelo realized his bias
and backed off a bit. She knew he hadn't meant any harm,
probably part of his upbringing.

She didn't know much about either of the agents, but they
both seemed suitable for the positions they had been awarded.
She could tell just by looking at them that they weren't getting
along too well. Grant struck her as no-nonsense kind of
woman, while Callavelo too appeared to have strong
leadership skills. Together they would be able to make
impeccable decisions, however, unlike Mulder's split-second
ones. It would be good for both of them, and they would be
less likely to get into any trouble.

"I know that you requested Agent Mulder's help in your
first case, which I admit seems a little off, and I'm sure he will
be of great service to you," Scully added, then glanced at her
watch. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Well, Agent Grant has discussed your forensics
capabilities with me, and I must admit your credentials are
excellent, so I wonder if you could possibly look over the
autopsy report and give us a little input," Mickey said quietly.
He looked Scully in the eye, as if trying to determine her
reaction.

"I'd be happy to. In fact, I have it right here; however, I
have another class that I am supposed to teach and I must get
going. Is there somewhere I can contact you?" She asked.
After exchanging business cards, Scully walked both agents
out of her office. It had definitely been an interesting meeting.
To top it all off, Scully was surprised when Grant asked if she
could sit in on one of her classes, explaining that she had
minored in forensics.

After seeing Mickey to his car, Chloe had slipped into the
classroom a few minutes after the class had begun and sat
patiently listening, a perma-smile glued to her face. Scully
definitely liked this woman.

-----

FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
2:35 pm

Fox Mulder was almost ready to cry. The pile of folders on
his 'new' desk easily surmounted any he had accumulated on
his 'old' desk in the basement. The difference being the old
folders were files that held his interest. The new folders were
cases that belonged to someone else, some other agent, under
him in the chain of command, who was the designated agent
and had done the work, dug out the clues, figured the puzzle.
His only purpose in the whole process was to read the file,
decide if the proper procedures were followed, and
recommend whether the investigation was complete (ready for
prosecution), incomplete (returned to the agent for further
investigation) or 'unsolved'--one of his formerly beloved
X-Files. It was a growing temptation to label ALL of the files
with an X, but even Mulder had to answer to someone, and he
didn't think the response from above would be favorable.

He stared out the window and didn't even notice the petite
brunette who entered the room and gently place more folders
on the corner of his desk. "Sir, should I 'file' some of these for
you?" a voice asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Not till I actually finish with one of them, Tracy. I think
that's the general point here, that I finish them and then give
them to you. Did I miss something in that procedure?" he
replied, more gruffly than he had intended. Her face fell and
he was sure she was going to bolt from the room. He
immediately regretted his comment.

"I'm sorry, Tracy, I didn't mean that. I just. . .I just hate
paperwork, that's all. So much paper, so few matches, you
know what I mean?" he grinned, trying to make it up to her.

Tracy gave him a knowing smile. "It's not what you
thought it would be, is it, sir?" she asked, not really expecting
an answer.

Mulder was a bit taken back. "I am that obvious about it?"
he whined.

"No, but I notice that Dr. Scully's number is the first one on
your speed dial. And you do seem to put off reading the files
that you have to pass along. And I catch you staring out the
window about 50 times a day. That isn't the image of the
'workaholic Spooky Mulder' that I was expecting my first day
as your assistant." One thing she had figured out about him,
you didn't lie to Fox Mulder and stay in his good graces.
Tracy didn't pull any punches with him, and he hadn't for her,
either.

"One time, when I had finished a profile and the guy got
caught, Reggie Purdue told me I'd make ASAC before 35. I
didn't want to believe him. I couldn't imagine a worse fate. So
here I am, 35 and an ASAC. It's scary. But it doesn't get the
work done, does it," he smiled, but it didn't make it all the way
to his eyes.

She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and went
to the doorway. "It will grow on you, sir," she smiled at him.

"Like nose hair?" he quipped in reply.

"Or athlete's foot," she joked in return and closed the door
behind her.

Mulder reluctantly picked up the folder on the top of the
pile and put on his glasses, starting to read. "Use the damn
spell check, next time," he groused at the absent agent who
had written the report.

Once he got started, he actually managed to finish several
files before Tracy was at his door to interrupt him. "I know
how 'engrossed' you are right now, sir, but Agent Callavelo
is here to see you," she said with a wink.

Mulder broke into a grin and handed her the files he had
completed. "Get these out of my sight, before I declare all of
them unsolved," he whispered. "And send Agent Callavelo
in," he added.

Mickey Callavelo took a deep breath and walked into the
office. He extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you,
Agent Mulder."

"Now, would that be because we're both pariah in the
Bureau, or because you can't make heads or tails out of your
first case, Callavelo?" Mulder replied with a grin, shaking the
younger man's hand firmly. It took him about two seconds to
size up Mickey. What he saw was a lot like looking in a
mirror.

"Well, it's always nice to meet ALL the local outcasts, sir.
Especially the ones who've managed to hang on long enough
to get windows in their offices," Mickey shot back. "But
actually, I'm here because my partner, Agent Grant, seems to
think you can help us with this investigation. What gave her
the idea that you're even interested in the X-Files anymore is
beyond me."

"Oh, I'm interested, Callavelo. In fact, I think
you've got yourselves a doozy in this one. But you've been
through the Academy. You must have some first impressions.
What are your thoughts?" Mulder asked, directing the
conversation away from a dangerous topic--his interest.

"Quite frankly, it looks like a serial killer, in my opinion.
One who preys on children. Not all that unusual," Mickey
answered truthfully.

"Until you get to the part about 'green blood'," Mulder
interjected.

". . .until you get to that part, yes sir," Mickey said as a
frown crossed his face. "But then, that could be a hoax," he
added.

Now it was Mulder's turn to frown. "You think a licensed
Medical Examiner would go along with a 'hoax' like that one,
Callavelo? Where did you grow up, Chicago?"

Mickey shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. "Yes, sir," he
said tersely.

"Well, maybe the ME in Cook County is willing to go out
on a limb, but if you talk to a good pathologist. . ."

"Like Dr. Scully?" Mickey interrupted. Mulder shot him a
fierce look. <Oops, that must be a toe under my foot,>
Mickey noted to himself.

"Yes, like Dr. Scully," Mulder intoned. "You would
understand that draining a body of all its blood and
substituting another substance usually leaves some kind of
damage. And from what I remember of the report, that
damage was not apparent. That blood was in those children's
bodies BEFORE they died, Mr. Callavelo. If you have a hard
time dealing with that, well, this is going to get to be a REAL
rocky road before this investigation is over."

"Besides, somebody would have picked that up before they
shoved it down in the basement," a female voice chimed in
from the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt, Agent Mulder. I'm
Chloe Grant, Mickey's partner. I was just with Dr. Scully.
She took a few minutes out of her schedule to read over the
autopsy reports. She doesn't feel the blood is a hoax. She
mentioned some files in a tunnel, if you have any idea what she
was referring to," Chloe added.

"Come in and take a seat, Agent Grant," Mulder offered.
<Wow, this is going to get good,> he thought to himself. "So,
I take it that you are more willing to go beyond the realm of
normal science to figure out what happened to those children
before they were murdered, Agent Grant?"

"It's my understanding that if these cases could be
explained using conventional methods, they wouldn't be
'unexplainable' to begin with, sir," Chloe said, staring him
directly in the eye. Meanwhile, Mickey coughed loudly into
his hand.

"And you have another opinion, Mr. Callavelo?" Mulder
asked, a bit amused by Mickey's reaction.

"I've seen things get overlooked, sir. And sometimes, the
label 'unexplained' can cover a multitude of sins," he said, not
backing down an inch.

"Sins, Agent? Whose sins?" Mulder asked.

"Sins of the investigators, sins of an ASAC who could
really give a damn. . ." Mickey retorted.

"Well, I see we've strayed into some shark infested waters,
here," Mulder said, taking a deep breath. "First, let me tell
you that Bureau procedure may not be up to your ever
exacting standards, Mr. Callavelo, but it's still pretty damn
good. And if a field agent files the report properly, the man or
woman above him then makes the decision where it goes next.
ASAC's don't grow on trees, Mr. Callavelo. They aren't in
their positions by the Peter Principle, either. They are field
agents who have earned their place. If the procedure looks
sloppy, it's just as easy to dump it back on the agent's lap than
it is to shove to the basement. And it's usually frowned upon
to have too many X-Files, anyway. They're generally
considered 'unseemly'," Mulder let the words drip with acid.
For the briefest of seconds it occurred to him that he was
_defending_ the chain of command. <How weird is my life
going to get?> he wondered, but quickly returned to stared
Mickey in the eye.

"Don't get me wrong, Agent Mulder," Mickey interrupted.
"I know there are strange things in this world. And I'm ready
to accept that sometimes science does not hold all the answers.
But if I was condemned to the basement because I am
expected to believe that little green men. . ."

"Little gray men," Chloe and Mulder interjected in perfect
chorus, then looked at each other, surprised. Chloe blushed
and bit her lip. Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head.

Mulder took pity on him. "Not every case will have 'little
gray men', Agent Callavelo. You just got lucky the first
time out. But I think Dr. Scully might have stumbled onto
something when she mentioned the 'files in the tunnel',"
Mulder said, turning the conversation back to the case.

"Is that like the 'White Lodge' on Twin Peaks?" Mickey
muttered under his breath. Mulder shot him a look, and
Mickey, for once, used good judgment and shut up.

The discussion last the better part of an hour. It was finally
decided that only going out to the crime scenes and starting
the real work of investigation was going to get them
anywhere. Mulder dismissed them both, waited for them to
get out of earshot, and picked up the phone.

"Well, what do you think," he asked, not bothering with
such trivial things as greetings.

"About the case or about the Bobbsey twins," Scully asked
lightly.

"I can wait to hear what you think of the case, I've just
gone toe to toe with Callavelo. What do you think of the . . .
who the hell are the Bobbsey twins?" Mulder replied, putting
his feet on the desk and getting comfortable.

"Never mind," Scully giggled. "I've got a class in 5
minutes. I spent my break time with Chloe. How about you
come over to my place after work? We can finish off that
pizza from Sunday and hash this thing out, since you refuse to
let it alone," she teased.

"Hey, it's my job to keep on top of the agents under my
direct chain of command," Mulder said, trying to sound
official.

"So that's what their calling 'sticking your nose in where it
doesn't belong' these days?" Scully laughed.

"Just for that, I'm not helping with the dishes," he
threatened.

"So what else is new? See you around 6:30," she laughed
and hung up.

-----

End Part Three
--

T h e X - F i l e s
Bed Springs
by Vickie Moseley & Char Hall
vmoseley@fgi.net & drakkar@bconnex.net

Part Four

-----

FBI Headquarters
Basement office
4:05 pm

Chloe hadn't said a word to him all the way downstairs.
She would occasionally look over at him with an expression of
frustration and exasperation. Upon entering their office, she
immediately set to work making travel arrangements for their
trip and continued to ignore his existence.

Mickey had kicked himself all the way downstairs. <What
a total bonehead thing to do,> he had assured himself. <Get
the Bureau's leading Pathologist, the ASAC you work under
AND your partner mad at you in the span of, what, 4 hours?
Some kind of record, Mick, it has to be some kind of record!>
He looked over at Chloe. Chloe--'green sprout', the Greek
word sprung into his head. Jolly Green Giant seemed more
appropriate. His sisters were tiny little things who all married
big burly football types. His own mother barely hit 5' 2". But
for all that height, his partner had the word 'sucker'
permanently tattooed on her forehead, he decided. 'Little
GRAY men', what was that all about? Green, gray, what
difference, the idea of ET coming down and substituting kids'
blood still made no sense at all to him. And then Mulder had
backed her up. Told them both that finding out what caused
the green blood could very well lead to who was killing those
kids and why. It was a link, and certainly strange enough not
to be just a coincidence. This was nuts. <Wire tap
surveillance is looking better by the minute,> he decided to
himself.

Chloe hung up the phone and looked over at him. She had
to admit, he looked miserable. <Good! The little prick.
Pissing off first Scully, then Mulder, who next? Oh, yeah, he's
already pissed off the Attorney General. Guess when you start
at the top, the only way to go is down,> she mused. But for
all his abrasiveness, he didn't seem stupid. He had held up his
end of the debate, and against the BOTH of them, Chloe and
Mulder. He had even had some decent ideas, mixed in with all
the nay-saying. Chloe sighed. Her gut was telling her to give
this guy a chance. And her gut was rarely wrong.

"So, what did you study in school? Diplomacy?" she asked
out of the blue.

He seemed shocked to hear her voice. "Ah, no.
Sociology. And theology," he added softly.

"Oh, you _should_ have studied diplomacy, then," she said.
"It's usually considered bad form to piss off everyone you
meet, you know," she added, but there was humor in her
voice.
Mickey looked up from his close examination of the top of
his desk and stared at her. She wasn't really mad, he decided.
Sort of ready to strangle him if he pulled a stunt like that
again, but not mad enough to request a transfer, or maybe
another partner.

"Yeah, well, where I grew up, diplomacy was for sissies,"
he grinned.

"It shows," she retorted. "But it doesn't help us solve this
case, so, let's start over. I've got us on a 7:35 flight out of
National tomorrow morning. What say we knock off a little
early so we can pack and get some shut eye. I'll meet you at
Gate 15 at five after seven. Okay?"

"You go on home. I want to sort through some stuff here
first."

Chloe shrugged and gathered up her things. As she was
almost out the door when he called to her. "Ah, Grant. . ."

"I prefer Chloe," she said quietly.

"Chloe, then. Ah, I was a real jerk today, and I apologize.
I'm just. . ."

"Over your head? Completely blown away? Ready to
escape to wire tap surveillance?" she interrupted, trying to be
helpful.

Mickey started to get angry, but caught himself and
chuckled a little. "Well, not quite ready for wire tap, YET.
But you have to understand. . ."

"You like things neat, orderly and to make some sort of
sense?" she interrupted, again.

"You're going to keep doing that, aren't you?" he grinned.

"It seems safer than letting you complete your own
sentences," she teased. "Look, I understand. Just promise me
one thing. . ."

"And that is. . ."

"Try and keep an open mind. I don't care if you go looking
for the 'conventional' explanation all the time. But when it
doesn't fit, promise me you won't just throw up your hands
and give up looking. Deal?"

"Deal. Partner," he added sheepishly.

"Sure looks that way," she smiled in return. "See you in
the morning."

-----

Annapolis, MD
Apartment Of D. Scully
7:45 PM

Scully had long since decided that Mulder wasn't going
to show. She paused before the telephone wondering if she
should call him, but decided against it. It was fine with her
that he hadn't shown up. She was exhausted after having
taught three classes that day. Not to mention the
bombardment of questions from Agent Grant. She waved a
hand in the air above the phone and padded down the carpeted
hallway to her bedroom, where she slipped out of her clothes
and into a housecoat. She then proceeded into the bathroom,
turning on the shower. Discarding the house coat, she stepped
into the shower and blessed the warmth of the water as it
drilled onto her aching back. She sighed, turning over the
events of the day in her mind.

She focused especially on the autopsy. She didn't know
what to tell Mulder. It seemed like one of the cases they had
run into in the past. The phrase "Purity Control" came to her
mind and she considered possible connections to the case. She
frowned as she remembered how one of their most trusted
informants had lost his life during that case. The only apparent
connection was the 'green' blood. Scully would definitely have
to see more information to come to a certain conclusion,
however from the looks of it, it was one of the cases that
Mulder would definitely have an interest in.

It suddenly occurred to her that he just might try to
somehow gain a little control of it. For his own good, she
vowed that she would prevent him from doing so, even if it
meant following along with him until she had a chance to deter
him.

She sighed, scrubbing the last of the soap from her hair,
adding conditioner and finally shutting off the water. She
pulled back the shower door, grabbed a towel and began to
dry her hair. She stepped out, finding another towel to cover
her soaking body, as she stepped into the hall. She padded to
her room and was just about to begin dressing when a sharp,
loud knock came at the door.

"Mulder, you pick the damnedest of times!" she mumbled
to herself, then shouted, "Hold on!" as she secured the towel
a little tighter against her body and went to the doorway.

Out of habit, she peeked out the peep hole and discovered
that it was indeed Mulder. She sighed, shaking her wet head,
droplets of water spraying in every direction. She unlocked
the door and opened it a crack.

"You're late," she said. He nodded, pushing the door
open further.

"I know and I'm sorry," he said, as he stepped inside. He
took a moment to regard her, a smile creeping across his face.
He nodded at her, and she sneered.

"Just a minute. Make yourself at home while I go get
changed," she said, feeling a little self conscious.

"Do you have to?" he teased, playfully tugging at the edge
of the towel.

"Mulder!" Scully cried, swatting at his hand with her one
free hand. The other grasped the towel, holding onto it for
dear life. "I should have known better," she mumbled,
stepping away.

"Okay go! Go on. But I can't say that I'll like it," he said,
trying to look sad. Scully laughed and quickly disappeared
down the hallway.

Once in her room, she leaned against the door, allowing
herself to calm down. For some reason his meaningless
teasing had made her feel warm. She paused, deciding what
would be good to wear. She finally decided that a pair of
loose jeans and a sweat shirt, would suffice. She pulled the
clothes gratefully on, and then joined Mulder in the living
room.

Fox Mulder glanced up from the medical journal he held in
his hand when she entered the room. He sighed, wishing she'd
perhaps worn something a little more revealing. He surprised
himself with these thoughts, but he'd been suppressing them
for years and he knew he was sick of it. He also knew that
Scully wouldn't purposely wear something provocative,
especially after the way he'd teased her. It just wasn't her
style.

He smiled, returning his gaze to the journal.

"So, what's your excuse? You were supposed to be here
around six thirty. . ."

"Scully, I was at the office getting a copy of this," he said,
reaching behind him on the couch and presenting her with a
rather fat looking manilla folder.

"And this is. . . ?"

"That is all the current information gathered on the case."

"Mulder, you have to at least give them a chance!" she
said as she crossed the room and sat in an overstuffed chair
across from him. She drew her legs up beneath her and put
the file primly in her lap. Once again his thoughts strayed to
her appearance. He allowed them to linger for just a moment
before pushing them away. He was supposed to be in a
professional mode right now and those thoughts were
definitely not in that category.

"A chance, Scully? They're getting their chance, but I'm
going to be there just to help them along."

"Did you ask if they wanted your help?"

"No--"

"Well, then forget it! You can't continue to do this. If you
really wanted to hold onto the X-Files, you shouldn't have
accepted the promotion." Scully's words bit into him like a hot
knife into butter.

He resisted the urge to become upset and scream. She was
right, of course. He had no one to blame but himself. As the
words flowed from her mouth, her expression suddenly
changed to one of pity as she realized the grave mistake she'd
just made. "Mulder, I'm sorry! I--"

He waved a hand. "Don't worry, Scully. I deserved it," he
said, dismissing it, although it still hurt. "How about you just
tell me what you thought of the autopsy," he continued,
ignoring the previous conversation.

"As I mentioned before, I'd have to say it's definitely
something that we've seen before. But I can't seem to put it all
together. Anything we've seen before has mostly involved
adults et cetera, not younger children." She shifted position,
the file sliding on her lap, then continued. "I mentioned to
Grant about the files in the tunnel, hoping that you'd explain
further. Did you?"

"Yeah, I quickly outlined what we found for them and gave
them the ID number for the X-File case they could find more
information under." Mulder sighed. He wasn't sure if he
should mention something he'd been thinking about earlier that
day, or if he should just let it go. She certainly didn't like the
idea of his poking into the case.

"Mulder?" Scully asked. He realized he'd been staring off
into space. He decided he had better tell her what he was
thinking, instead of trying to hide it. He knew that sooner or
late she'd figure it out.

"Scully, I've been thinking. I don't know how to say this
but, well, I think this case has something to do with the
disappearance of my sister. If not, then I think it's similar," he
whispered, silently praying that she wouldn't discard the idea.

She looked shocked, then her eyebrows knit together as
she considered the idea. She closed her eyes and Mulder felt
his heart sink. <She thinks I'm crazy.>

"I thought about that too, Mulder. I just didn't want to get
your hopes up," she admitted quietly. He almost didn't catch
her words. He regarded her for a moment, then she slowly
opened her eyes and showed him a sadness that ran
deeper than simple sorrow. "I think you should let them take
care of it, Mulder," she whispered.

"I can't do that! I have to find out for myself! It's got to be
the key. We were so close to finding out what happened after
my father died but we lost everything!" It had been over a
year since his father had died, and her sister too. Both for the
same cause and both in the wrong. "You of all people should
understand that," he said, fighting to hold back the tears.

"I do understand. . . It's just that. . . Well, to put it mildly,
I
don't think that we'll find Sam."

"How can you say that?" he asked.

"Mulder--"

"No. Listen, we've got to take this case. You've got to
help me. . ."

"You're not understanding what I'm saying. I'm saying no.
For once, why don't you just accept that! Accept the fact that
I can't follow you around on a case that you'd be stealing from
perfectly competent agents. Mulder, no matter how much it
hurts me to say this, I think it's time to let go. It's time to start
your life again," she said, untucking herself from the chair and
walking over to grasp his hands. "Mulder, for me, for Agents
Callavelo and Grant, let this one go. . .Please?" she nearly
begged.

"I can't, Scully," Mulder said, breaking free from her grip.
"I can't do that. I've got to find out for myself." In the pit of
his stomach he felt he'd been betrayed by the last person he
trusted. He couldn't stay here. "Look, I've got to go."

"Mulder, please. I'm sor--" she began, standing aside as
he abruptly stood.

"Don't apologize, Scully. You've spent the better half of
the evening apologizing. You've told me how you really feel,
now I've got to accept that and move on," he said, grabbing
his coat which he'd shed and placed on a chair beside the
entrance. He reached the front door, yanked it open and
stepped out into the hallway.

"Mulder! Let me explain!" she cried as his footsteps
echoed down the hallway. He did not turn around to glance
back.

Dana Scully slammed the door shut, kicking herself for
destroying any hope that she had of keeping Mulder out of the
case. If anything she'd made it worse and she'd perhaps
destroyed any trust they had shared. She hadn't realized it, but
tears of hot anger were streaming down her face. She hadn't
meant to ruin a perfectly fine evening.

She cursed herself, walking into the kitchen and pulling out
a shot glass. A shot of her favorite liqueur would hopefully
dull some of the pain. Perhaps enough to sleep.

-----

End Part Four
--

T h e X - F i l e s
Bed Springs
by Vickie M. & Char H.
vmoseley@fgi.net & drakkar@bconnex.net

Part Five

-----

September 2, 1996
8:15 AM

Mickey watched the clouds float lazily by as he fought to
keep himself awake. Airplanes always lulled him to sleep.
The view out the window wasn't helping much, however.
Finally he decided it was hopeless to even bother trying. He
shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He breathed
heavily. Beside him, Chloe afforded him a look. He could feel
her eyes on him. He smiled, then turned his head toward her,
opening his eyes.

"Problem?" he asked, gently.

"Uh, not that I know of," she said, a slight blush coming to
her cheeks as she looked quickly away. He smiled, closing his
eyes again and attempting to get more comfortable. "Actually--"

His eyes snapped open.

"What?"

"I've been thinking about this case. . ." she trailed off, biting
her lower lip.

"What about it?" he asked, sitting up. Perhaps she'd be
able to keep him awake.

"Well, Mulder seemed a lot more interested in the case than
he was letting on."

"And what has that got to do with anything?"

"Doesn't that seem odd to you? Shouldn't he be more
worried about his current position than what we're up to?"

"Old habits die hard?"

"Come on, I'm being serious. I think he wants this case."

"He's not a field agent anymore."

"It doesn't matter."

"Sure it does," Mickey was beginning to feel a little
annoyed at her line of thought. If Mulder had wanted their
case, he would have asked for it, or reassigned it. "What
you're suggesting doesn't make sense. Why would he want
our case anyway? He's probably sick of the X-Files by now."
Mickey shrugged, looking out the window.

"You're not understanding what I'm saying. Fox Mulder
took care of the X-Files for years. I think you were partly
right about old habits dying hard, but I think there's more to
it." She sighed, dropping the subject at Mickey's obvious
denial.

"Let me ask you a question," he said, looking into her
azure eyes. She nodded, matching his gaze. "Do you think
we're going to get along at all?"

"Oh come on! I thought we already went over this! I think
we're just going to have to adjust. I have the perfect idea!
You'll have to wait to find out though. . ." she said, giving him
the most mischievous smile he'd ever seen.

"Okay, I'm sorry. It's just that every time one of us
mentions something we end up arguing," he said quietly.

"That's what being partners is all about," she smiled,
patting his shoulder gently. She leaned forward and whispered
in his ear. "Besides, you're cute. I wouldn't give you up for
the world." With that he felt his cheeks burn as the blood
flowed to his face. He inched away. She smiled at making
him uncomfortable and he realized he'd made yet another
mistake. He'd revealed another part of himself to her ever
watchful eye.

<That's part of your problem,> he chided himself. <You're
just too shy around the women. She picked up on that and
used it against you.> He sighed, swearing he would get her
back. He wasn't comfortable at having her make even playful
passes at him, but he would definitely have something ready
for her the next time.

-----

Washington, DC
Offices of Fox Mulder
9:30 AM

"Good morning, Tracy. Is Mulder in the office?" Dana
Scully asked his assistant. She shifted nervously from foot to
foot, not sure how Mulder would react that she had come
here, after having upset him so badly last night. She felt
terrible about it and had hoped to make amends by telling him
that she would help him out, despite any misgivings she had
about it.

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. Agent Mulder just left to catch a
flight to South Carolina," the brunette answered.

"Dammit!" Scully cursed, winning a startled look from
Tracy. "Sorry, it's just that I need to speak with him. How
long ago did you say he left?"

"About an hour ago. His flight was for ten o'clock this
morning," Scully cursed again, silently.

"Thanks," she said, before turning on her heel and quickly
leaving. She rushed away, meanwhile pulling out her
cellular phone. She impatiently waited for the elevator, dialing
Mulder's number.

"You have reached the Motex cellular phone system. We
are sorry to say that the client you are currently trying to reach
is not available. Please hang--" Scully growled, pushing the
END button on the telephone and placing it back into her
pocket. She checked her watch and found that she only had a
half an hour to find Mulder.

When she reached the airport, Scully rushed into the
terminal, keeping her eyes open for Mulder. She made her
way to the ticket booth and purchased a ticket for South
Carolina using her VISA. She stationed herself near the exit
gate for their flight and it wasn't long before Mulder wandered
around the corner. He didn't see her until she stepped in front
of him, holding her hand out.

"Scully," he sighed, looking away. "I don't really want to
talk to you right now."

"I know, Mulder. I have to say this though. You're right, I
think this case is important. I considered it all night last night
and I decided that we better take a look at it," she said,
putting her hand on his chest. He still would not look at her.
It was almost as if he hadn't heard her. "Listen to me, Mulder.
I know I hurt you last night, but you have to understand my
viewpoint as well."

"If you came here to stop me. . ." he said, raising his eyes
and finally locking her in a painful stare. She held it.

"I'm going with you," she said quietly. His face softened
and he regarded her carefully.

"No, you're not," he said.

"Don't you dare argue with me. I fought with myself all
night about this and nothing you can say is going to stop me
from going with you," she said, putting both her hands on his
shoulders. His stern look slowly faded to one of happiness.
"But first, I need your forgiveness, Mulder. I shouldn't have
said a lot of the things I did, and I know that it's going to hurt
for a long time now, but I need to know that you've forgiven
me."

"You know, Scully," he whispered, his face close to hers.
"It's awfully difficult to hate your best friend longer than a
day." He smiled, weakly. "I've had some time to think about
it too, and I think I was wrong to get as upset as I did. You're
forgiven."

She smiled with relief and on the spur of the moment
reached up and enveloped him in a quick hug. He hugged
back, pulling her close to him. He released her a short time
later, glancing down at her.

"Where's your luggage?" he asked, knowing that she'd
decided to go with him. She smiled, holding up her VISA.

"Right here," she said, putting it into her wallet and patting
it softly. He laughed and began to walk towards the exit, as
the final call for their departure flight rattled over the system.

-----

End Part Five

--