*Disclaimer: See Part One.

T h e X - F i l e s
Bed Springs(3/4)
by Vickie Moseley & Char Hall
vmoseley@fgi.net & drakkar@bconnex.net

Part Twelve

-----

Office of Walter Skinner
Washington, DC
September 3, 1995

"Where the hell are they!?" the man asked, angrily
standing above him with his hands palm-down on the desk.

"I told you! Both of them decided to take their
holidays earlier this year and I feel they deserve it!"
Walter Skinner shouted back. He was not impressed with the way
the man before him sometimes tried to intimidate him with his
glowering stares. The man pushed back away from the desk,
reaching into his coat pocket for a package of Morley's. He
swiftly pulled one out and stuck it into his mouth.

"I want to know exactly where they went, and I want to
know NOW!" he growled as he sucked on the cigarette, trying to
light it with a match.

"I'd have thought you'd have learned by now. I don't
give in to your demands," Skinner said, standing up. "And I
don' want you smoking in my office!" He snatched the cigarette
out of the man's mouth and snapped it in half, tossing it into
the ashtray.

"Listen to me, you asshole--"

"I'd suggest you stop. I'll have you kicked out on
your ass so fast you won't know what happened," Skinner said,
firmly. He put his hands on his hips and watched as the Cancer
Man's scowl deepened. "Now, I've told you before. They're on
vacation. I don't know where and I don't care. For
all I know they're on the moon sunning it up with aliens,"
Skinner said, stepping closer. "Now get out of this office,
before I have you physically removed!" he finished, using his
height as an advantage over the older man. The man's eyes
darkened and he turned quickly on his heel, storming out of
the office.

Skinner sighed angrily, looking at the ashtray where
the cigarette butt still glowed red, tendrils of smoke emerging
from it. Skinner picked up the remaining cigarette butt and
crushed it in his hand, ignoring the burning of his flesh.

-----

Orangeburg, South Carolina
Elementary School
5:45 PM

They had been sitting in the conference room for hours,
going over records and talking to some teachers and other staff
who seemed to have small inconsistencies in their files.
Nothing had been turned up.

Mickey Callavelo stretched his arms above his head,
locking his fingers and letting out a loud sigh. He pushed
back his chair and stood up, going to stand behind Chloe to see
what she was up to. She turned her face up at him for a moment
and gave him a cocky, tired smile.

"Had enough, big boy?" she asked, pushing the book that
was in front of her away. He stepped back as she pushed her
chair out and stood up.

"Yeah. We're not getting anywhere. I haven't seen a
loophole in the records for almost an hour and the last person
we interviewed was clean. My eyes are getting sore. At this
rate I'll develop an incurable headache," he mumbled, angrily.

"You *are* an incurable headache," Chloe said and he
gave her a sarcastic smile. She laughed and took a hold of his
shoulder. "Mickey, loosen up! We're going to find that break,
I promise you. Maybe we should try and find out where that
button came from. I still think it's the missing link," she
said, tightening her grip. He shrugged loosely, and shook his
head.

"That button could have come from anywhere. Maybe it
was even one of the investigating officer's. We have no way of
knowing for sure." He hung his head agitatedly.

"You're not. . ." she playfully lifted his chin with
one finger so that he looked into her eyes. "Giving up, are
you?" she asked and he shrugged, breaking free from her grip
all together. He paced silently for a few minutes, trying to
clear his thoughts and put some order back into things.

"I'm not going to give this up! I can't give it up.
It's just too. . . I don't know, but I do know that we owe it
to this town to find--" Mickey began but he was cut off when
the door burst open and a young girl dashed in, tears streaming
down her cheeks. She threw herself against the wall and sobbed
uncontrollably, obviously she hadn't noticed they were there.
Long locks of brown hair cascaded down her back. She looked to
be about eight years in age, but Mickey couldn't tell for sure,
since her back was to them.

Mickey and Chloe exchanged a look before they slowly
approached the girl.

"Honey?" Chloe said, gently putting a hand on the
girl's shoulder. The girl instantly tensed, then slowly turned
around. The sobs had been cut off completely and she was
shaking in fright now. Chloe knelt down so that she was at eye
level with the child. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"W-Who are you?" the girl asked shakily.

"My name's Chloe and that's Mickey, we're FBI agents,"
Chloe explained quietly. Mickey was impressed with the way she
instantly changed personalities when dealing with certain
people. He was awed at how soothing her voice was right now.
<She'd make a hell of a mother,> Mickey thought,
as he watched the girl slowly calm down.

"FBI? Whoa!" the girl said, then a smile erupted
on her lips. Chloe grinned back.

"Are you hurt? Can you tell us what's the matter?"
Chloe coaxed.

"I-I. . . Uhm, hey, how do I know you're an FBI
agent?" The girl asked, growing suspicious. Chloe exchanged a
glance with Mickey, who simply shrugged. Sometimes kids just
said the craziest of things.

"Here, I'll show you my badge," Chloe said, slowly
reaching into her pocket and pulling out the black case which
contained her ID. The girl took it into her hand and opened it
slowly. It was almost as if she expected it to snap shut on
her fingers. She glared at it for a few moments, then the grin
returned.

"You look funny in your picture," the girl said, then
erupted into giggles. Mickey smiled as he watched and wondered
what Chloe's picture looked like. It occurred to him that he
still hadn't seen her badge.

"I know. But I'm a funny gal. So, now that you're
convinced that I'm an FBI. . ."

"I just had a fight with my best friend. She makes me
so mad sometimes," the girl said. Chloe regarded her for a
moment.

"I see. That's okay. Friends are allowed to fight
sometimes, you know. Actually, my friend Mickey and I always
fight. Right Mick?" she asked, and the little girl looked up
at him. He nodded, hiding a smile as best he could. "See, it
just goes to show how much you care about each other," Chloe
added. The girl nodded. "So, what's your name, honey?" Chloe
asked.

"My name's Samantha."

"What a beautiful name! I always wished my parents had
called me Samantha, you know," Chloe said, cheerfully. The
little girl beamed. "I bet your last name is even better."

"I don't have a last name."

"What? No last name? Come on, you're pulling my leg!"
Chloe teased.

"No seriously! I don't have a last name! You see, I
live in a foster home across town and I don't remember much
about how I ended up there," the girl said, happily relating
her life's events as though she didn't care who knew.

Finally Mickey stepped forward and tapped Chloe on the
shoulder. He turned to Samantha.

"Will you excuse us for a minute, Sam?" Chloe patted
the girl's shoulder lightly for a minute and then eased herself
up from her position on the floor, walking with Mickey to a
spot that was out of Sam's earshot.

"I think we've got something here," Mickey whispered,
staring into Chloe's eyes.

"Mick, she's just a girl. She has absolutely nothing
to do with this case," she replied, watching as his face
clouded over and he threw a glance back at Sam.

"You're sure about that?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Well, I'm not. I've got a gut feeling about this and
I just want you to humor me about it, okay?" he said and for
the first time he wondered if Chloe would raise a complaint.
She stood still for a moment, contemplating.

"Fine, Mickey. If you've got an idea, then we'll go
with it. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," she
whispered finally and he smiled. He'd won that small
confrontation. In a moment, Mickey turned back to the girl and
softly explained to her what was going on. He asked her if she
would like to see the inside of a police station. She nodded
happily.

-----

Dana Scully awoke to the sound of a cell phone ringing.
She lifted her head away from Mulder's chest and strained to
figure out whether it was her phone or his. She eased herself
out of Mulder's embrace and reached for her purse, pulling out
the cell phone.

"Scully," she whispered, trying not to wake Mulder if
necessary. If she'd known how that phone call would change his
life, she would have awoken him in a flash.

"Agent Scully, it's Chloe. Mick and I have found one
of the kids with green blood. We're at the hospital."

"All right, I'll be right there. Tell them to prepare
an autopsy bay for me. I'll be doing this one myself--"

"No, that won't be necessary. She's alive." Scully's
jaw dropped at the words. She shifted around, drawing her
knees up to her chest and sat silent for a moment.

"She's alive?"

"Yes. Her name's Samantha. She says she doesn't have
a last name. Lives at one of the foster home. We've, uh,
taken her to the hospital to do a few tests--" Chloe
explained, but stopped at Dana's sharp intake of air. To
Dana's surprise, her hands were trembling as she held the
phone. <Could it be?> she thought. Then she felt Mulder's
hand begin to rub her back and she tensed completely. Could
she get his hopes up like that?

"Okay, I'll let Mulder know. . ." she said after a few
moments of silence. She'd already decided that she would not
tell Mulder the girl's name. If it was Samantha *Mulder*, they
would find out together at the hospital.

"Thanks. I guess we'll see you two in a while," Chloe
said, then hung up. Scully sat quietly for a moment, Mulder's
hand reached up to her shoulder as he slowly sat up.

"Dana, you okay?" he asked, concerned at her tension.

"Yeah, fine. They've found one of the children and
she's very much alive. Maybe we can finally get somewhere."

"Was she attacked?"

"Apparently not. I'm not sure how they found her,"
Scully said. <You're not lying to him. . .> she tried to
convince herself. She knew she wasn't lying to him, but she
was willingly keeping the truth from him. <It's for his own
good,> her inner self chided. Scully shook her head and
slowly got up, heading quickly to the bathroom before Mulder
could see the look on her face. She knew it would give it all
away.

-----

End Part Twelve

--

Apologize for the multi-postings. I hate my newgroup reader. <g>

*Disclaimer: See Part One.

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

Part Thirteen

-----

Orangeburg Hospital

"What exactly did Chloe say on the phone?" Mulder asked,
for possibly the tenth time since they had received the call
at the hotel.

"Just that they found a child with green blood, alive,
and they were here with her," Scully replied, trying to keep
her patience.

"This could be the break we're looking for," Mulder
said, speeding up his steps. Scully's hand on his arm
brought him to a stop. "What?" he asked, aggravation
clouding his face. "Okay, it's the break *they're* looking.
. ."

"No, that's not it." Scully sought for the right words.
"I just. . . I want you to know. . . I love you, Fox," she
said very quietly.

He grinned broadly. "I figured that out between last
night and this afternoon," he teased. "But come on, now.
There's a time and a place, Scully. And now is neither, so
let's hustle."

Samantha was looking more than a little scared as she
sat in the examining room, dressed in a hospital gown. The
doctor was nice enough, but she didn't feel sick and she sure
didn't understand why the FBI would be so interested in her.
She wasn't a stupid child, she had heard the snatches of
conversation. And as much as she had been told not to watch,
she had caught a glimpse of the blood sample as the
technician drew it into the vial. It had been green, the
color of the antifreeze her foster father put in his pick up
to keep the old thing from overheating. That wasn't right.
She knew a little about the body and health and blood, she
knew, was supposed to be red.

But then, she couldn't remember the last time she had
fallen or skinned a knee. It had to have been a long time
ago, maybe over a year. Tears were beginning to form in her
eyes as she tried to remember what her life had been like
before, before she woke up in a foster home, with no last
name, no memory of a family, nothing but a little bracelet
with the name Samantha engraved on the back of one charm.

Mickey and Chloe were standing in the hallway outside
the examining room, deep in discussion. "Maybe we should
have all the foster kids in the county tested," Mickey was
saying sarcastically as Chloe rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying that it's a pretty big coincidence that
so far, all the victims, and now a totally unrelated little
girl end up with green blood," Chloe hissed back. "And I
doubt that we could manage to get them all tested. We're
just lucky Samantha's foster parents were also friends of
Emily's foster parents and seem to care about her enough to
have her tested. Otherwise, we'd never have found out
anything."

She looked up as the big double doors in the middle of
the hall, dividing the in-patient rooms from the out-patient
exam rooms, opened and Mulder hurried toward them with Scully
quick on his heels.

"Where is she?" Mulder asked without greeting. "Has she
said anything?"

"Outside of her name, her first name, she doesn't seem
to know anything. Literally," answered Chloe. Mulder shot
her a perplexed look, so Mickey filled in the blanks.

"She entered the child welfare system almost a year ago.
Before she got to her current placement, no one knows for
certain where she came from. And for some reason, she's
suffering from amnesia," Mickey added, glancing at his notes.

"Did anyone search missing persons?" Mulder asked,
somewhat lost in thought.

"Checked her prints, but found no match among recently
missing children. They mentioned a glitch in the system,
though," Chloe chimed in.

"A glitch?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, but it didn't pan out. The foster parents said
there had been a match on prints, but the girl whose prints
she matched, and not 100% by the way, has been missing a long
time. She'd be a lot older by now, in her late twenties or
something," Mickey said, dismissing the whole discussion.

Scully turned visibly white. "Did the foster parents
say they knew the name of the missing girl?" she questioned
Mickey.

"Nah, I don't think they ever knew. No matter, it
wasn't a match, so why bother," he replied.

"Can we go in there? I'd like to ask her a few
questions," Mulder said looking up and down the hall for
doctors or nurses, those people who tended to stand guard
over patients.

"I don't see why not," Mickey said. "We've been in and
out of there for the last 45 minutes and no one has tried to
stop us. C'mon, I'll introduce you." He walked over and
pushed open the door, knocking lightly as he did. "Sam," he
called. "There are some people here I'd like you to meet.
They're friends of mine and Chloe's, so you don't have to
worry, okay?"

"Okay, Mickey," came the soft voice from inside the
room. Mickey didn't notice Mulder's reaction to that voice,
but Scully and Chloe did. It looked like he had just stopped
breathing.

In a split second, Mulder had shoved Mickey aside and
was in the room. The minute his eyes met the hazel eyes of
the little girl in front of him, he lost all color in his
face and Scully grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

"It can't be. . .it can't be. . ." he managed to
whisper. His eyes searched for and found Scully, standing
with the same wide eyed wonder he knew he had to be
displaying. Sitting on the examining table was the spitting
image of the little girl whose picture rested on Mulder's
desk in the office. In front of the them was Samantha
Mulder.

"We've been fooled before," Scully whispered hurriedly
in his ear as she fought to bring him back to reality.

It took him a moment, but slowly the more rational part
of his being took over. He nodded slowly, but didn't trust
himself to speak. He looked over to Scully, pleading for her
help. She understood and nodded in return.

Scully let go of Mulder's arm and he slid down into a
plastic chair in the corner of the room. She made sure he
was okay, then walked over to the little girl on the table,
who was looking at them with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Hello, Samantha. My name is Dana. I'm a friend of
Mickey and Chloe's. And this is Fox, he's our friend, too,"
she said quietly, calmly, more calmly than she felt. She
watched closely for any reaction Mulder's name might have
produced in the girl, but Samantha's expression did not
change.

"Are you with the FBI, too?" the little girl asked. The
more she talked, the more apparent her soft New England
accent became. It sounded totally out of place after days of
hearing the deep Southern drawl of the residents of
Orangeburg.

"Yes, we are. Do you know why we're here?" Scully
asked.

"Because somebody hurt Emily and she died," Samantha
answered. "But I don't know who it was. I didn't know Emily
very well, she was older than me," she added.

"That's okay, Samantha. But we would still like to ask
you a few questions, if you don't mind. Maybe you saw
somebody, somebody who likes to talk to the foster kids, at
school maybe. Do the foster kids play together much?" Scully
asked. She could hear the heavy breathing coming from the
chair behind her and knew this line of questioning had to be
driving Mulder insane, but she wanted to ease into any other
discussions. The little girl looked frightened enough
without adding more confusion.

"Sometimes we have family picnics," Samantha said
thoughtfully. "But we're all in different grades and go to
different churches. We don't play together much, except all
the kids in one house, maybe. I didn't know who Emily
played with," she concluded. "What's wrong with Fox?" she
asked suddenly.

Slowly, Mulder stood up and walked over to the girl.
Scully couldn't decide if she should stop him or let him go
on. Finally, she let him go to her.

Mulder's eyes were focused on the small charm bracelet
on Samantha's left wrist. "Where did you get your bracelet,
Sam?" he asked, trying very hard to sound collected.

Samantha looked down at the bracelet and frowned. "It's
from before," she said simply.

"Before what?" Mulder prodded gently.

"Before I came here. I don't know anything about back
then. Mrs. Dodds says I can't remember because someone hurt
me real bad and I'm afraid I'll remember the hurt. But I
don't think so. I think," she stopped and took a deep,
frustrated breath.

"You think what?" Mulder continued.

"I think somebody 'stole' them. My memories. I don't
think I got hurt. Sometimes I have dreams and they're happy
dreams. I had a family, and they loved me. I know kids who
were hurt by their moms and dads. They have scary dreams and
are afraid all the time. I don't have those dreams. My
dreams are good," she added confidently.

"I have dreams, too," Mulder confided. "What are your
dreams like? Do you remember anyone's face or name?"
Slowly, the psychologist's mind was coming to the fore and
Scully sighed with relief. It had been close.

"There aren't any people in my dreams. Just a house.
I'm in my room, but I know there are other people in the
house, I just can't see them. They're aren't in the room."

"What does the room look like, Sam?" Mulder continued.

"It's sunny. There are two beds, with a big book case
in between them and two windows, one on the wall by my bed
and one on the wall at the foot of my bed. My bed has a
really pretty bedspread that's white with ruffles and hearts
that are made of that red cloth, what's it called? It has
lots of little checks of red and white?" she asked of the two
women in the room.

"Gingham," came the answer, from Mulder. "The hearts
are of red checked gingham."

Samantha looked at him and giggled. "Yes! That's what
it's called! Gingham," she pronounced it, delighted that he
would know.

Mulder's voice was growing very tense, but he kept on
with the interview. "What about the other bed, Sam? Do you
remember it?"

The little girl's face screwed up in concentration.
"Yes. It's got a blue bedspread. It's not pretty, like
mine. It's got lines on it, but they are the same color.
The lines make it feel rough when I sit on it."

"Like little cords running through it?" Mulder asked.

"Uh huh, like cords. And I don't sit on it very much
because it belongs to my big brother, and he doesn't like me
to mess with his stuff," she admitted.

At that small confidence Mulder turned and walked from
the room.

Scully turned to Sam quickly. "I think Fox must have
been paged," she lied. "I better go give him his phone, it's
in my pocket," she smiled. Then, in a quick aside to Chloe,
she whispered. "Don't let her out of your sight and see if
she remembers 'people', Chloe. Anything she remembers about
her family. Especially her big brother. I'll be back in a
minute." Then she left the room to search for Mulder.

It took her a while to find him. He must have started
running the second the door closed behind him. He was
sitting in the small garden outside the hospital where the
smokers went for their breaks. There was no one there but
him and he was crying.

She walked up to him slowly and sat down beside him,
putting an arm around his shoulders.

"She got that bracelet from our grandmother," he said
between breaths. "For her eighth birthday. And our room was
just as she described it. She had this bedspread. . .my God,
Scully, Mom still has it. I remember the day we moved out of
the old house, she made me take it off and put it in the
trunk because she couldn't stand to touch it." He looked at
her with stricken eyes. "Could it be? Could that be *my*
Sam?"

Scully took a deep breath. This was going to be
extremely dangerous and her answer had to be exact. She knew
how tenuous her partner's hold on reality was at that moment,
and the wrong word or action could drive him away from her
forever. That was not a consequence she was willing to
accept. "Mulder, we can't be sure of anything. I have to
admit, though, that she looks just like your picture. And it
would be easy enough to examine the bracelet. Regardless of
whether she is the real Sam or not, she does seem to be
connected in some way." She watched him closely and he
closed his eyes and nodded.

"So what do we do? How do we find out? And my God,
Scully, she's still a little girl. I mean, the clones, at
least they were grown women. Could she just be a clone, too,
one who hasn't grown up yet? And why doesn't she have any
memories? The clone who was killed on the bridge, she knew
all about Sam, knew the games we played, knew about me,
remembered the night she was abducted." He stopped and
looked at her with all the pain and anguish that could his
eyes could possibly hold. "I want it to be her, Scully, but
I'm afraid. I'm so afraid. . ."

-----

End Part Thirteen
--

*Disclaimer: See Part One.

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

Part Fourteen

-----

"Chloe?" Mickey asked, uneasily. He had watched as
Mulder shot out of the room hastily and had known that Scully
lied to the child about the pager. He was missing something.
He didn't like to be missing something.

"Uh, I don't know what's going on," she whispered in his
ear, so that Sam could not hear them. "I suspect that this
is why Mulder was so interested in this case. Except I don't
think he really expected to find what he was looking for,"
she explained, going on feelings that she'd been seeing in
him ever since she'd met him. She had heard stories about
his sister's disappearance but it was only now just occurring
to her. This girl reminded him of his missing sister. It
all made sense and it all fit into the her puzzle quite
nicely. She shrugged at Mickey, then moved closer to Sam,
bringing the plastic chair to sit in.

"Samantha, can you tell me anything else about your
brother?" Chloe asked, using the same calming tone she had
earlier when dealing with the upset child. Sam blinked at
her for a moment, wondering what was so important about her
brother, but shrugged.

"I don't remember much. He was pretty tall. Much taller
than me. Uhm, he had brown hair and he was skinny. Come to
think of it, Fox reminds me a lot of him. The voices I hear
in my dreams are always kind. Soothing, like Fox's," she
said, and Chloe smiled at her.

"Well, honey, Dana thinks it's important that you try and
remember as much as you can. Can you explain anything else
about your family?" Chloe asked, then glanced at Mickey, who
had his small notepad out and was ready to take notes.

"Uhm, I really can't. . . Wait a minute. There's one
dream I have pretty often. There are little men standing on
a board. Red and Blue. It's a game that my brother and I
used to play all the time. Sometimes though, the dream
changes and the little men are engulfed in light and they
float away from us."

Chloe looked puzzled, throwing another look at Mickey. He
shrugged, writing vigorously as the girl spoke.

"This game, do you like it?"

"Oh yes. I can remember it being fun. . . I think," she
said, hesitantly.

"If we took you to a toy store, do you think you could
point it out?" Chloe asked, almost at a loss for questions.
She wondered if the game was important.

"I don't know," the girl said, and shrugged. "I'm
hungry, can I have some food?"

"Sure, honey. I guess Mickey and I could treat you to
lunch, but we'll have to wait for Dana and Fox, they'll be
hungry too," Chloe explained, hoping that they would return
soon. "How about you lay back and relax. I need to speak to
Mickey about special FBI things."

"Will there be any more tests?"

"No, Sam, no more tests. Promise," Chloe said, crossing
her heart. Sam giggled and nodded, laying back on the table
and closing her eyes.

-----

"You can't promise that there'll be no more tests,"
Mickey said as soon as the door to the room swung shut.

"Oh yes I can. We're finished with her--"

"What if they want any more blood tests?"

"They'll have to make due. I can't let them take any
more. We can't risk her finding out that she's not normal.
At least not until we know what's going on."

"Sometimes--" he said between clenched teeth.

"Sometimes what, Mickey?" she asked. He remained
silent. "Sometimes you'd just like to punch my lights out,
wouldn't you?" she suggested.

"You know, you're right about that. But for the most
part, I don't hit women."

"I think I'd prefer it if you did hit me, you know why?"
Chloe said, her tone softening. They had both been under a
lot of stress and now they just needed some sleep. Very
badly.

"No, why?"

"Because then I can trust you not to shoot me when things
get really bad. Believe me, this is just the start," she
said, easing into a calmer tone and letting some of her
humour drip into it. Mickey relaxed visibly and she was
glad. Yet again she'd stepped on his toes and she could tell
he was getting sick of dancing.

"I just realized something," Mickey said, smiling. "You
mentioned something on the plane. Said I'd have to wait to
find out. You never told me what it was."

"Oh, yes. You'll still have to wait. Maybe later
tonight I'll tell you," she said and her grin widened as she
remembered.

-----

Scully wrapped her arms around Mulder and allowed him to
let his feelings flow out. His tears dripped on the lapel of
her coat, soaking the material and making it appear much
darker. He sobbed, shaking against her, she held him tight
as if her strength would be passed into him. Finally his
tears began to fade and he looked up at her with damp eyes,
almost as if he were ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he said, using his hand to wipe away the
remaining tears from his cheeks. "I just feel so helpless,"
he said, standing up, his back to her.

"Don't be sorry, Mulder. I love you and I'll be here,
however you need me," she whispered as she put her arms
around his waist again, resting her cheek on his back. She
could feel that he was still shaking. His emotions were raw
and she knew that he wouldn't be useful for much longer.
She should insist that he go back to the hotel, knowing only
too well that he'd refuse.

"Scully, we've got to talk," Mulder said suddenly, and
he slowly turned around in her arms, raising his hands to her
face. He peered down at her and his expression scared her.

"Mulder, I know--" she said, but stopped as his index
finger touched her lips.

"Dana, if that--" He caught himself, then started again.
"If she's really Sam, then I want to be sure she gets the
right things in life. I think. . ." he stopped again.

"Fox?" Scully asked, she didn't like where this was
heading.

"I think, if that is Samantha, I want to adopt her.
She's my sister and she deserves to be a part of a real
family again."

"You call your fish and a well beaten sofa, a family?"
Scully asked, her eyes round as saucers. Mulder was talking
about adopting a child. It would be someone to care for,
someone to show love for. Was he ready to handle having a
child in his apartment? "She's a little girl, Mulder,"
Scully mumbled, unsure of what to say, aware that she was
treading on very thin ice.

"A family, Dana. You and me and Samantha," he said,
after hesitating for a few minutes. Scully stared up at him,
stunned, her jaw slack.

"Mulder, you're not suggesting. . ." she trailed off.

"Listen to me, Dana. I love you. You know I've been
searching my entire life for her. We can live together and
finally be happy. . ." he said, then noticed that her eyes
had darkened. He had suggested the wrong subject way too
early. His gravest mistake ever. He leaned forward and
kissed Scully on the lips, if only to test her reaction.

His guess was correct. She didn't return the kiss with
much feeling at all. Was it because she was still too
stunned? He didn't think so.

"No, no. No. . ." he said, backing away. What had he
done? "Scully, I didn't mean. . ."

"Mulder, stop. It's okay. I understand what you're
trying to say," Scully began, trying to seem like she
understood. Had he been trying to propose to her? After
such a short time? She didn't know, couldn't know. Scully
watched in stunned silence as Mulder ran blindly away from
her, his long legs carrying him much faster than she could
ever hope to run. She let him go.

-----

Mulder stopped running and threw himself on the grass.
What had he been trying to tell Scully? He had been trying
to tell her that he wanted to be there for her forever. But
why had she become upset? Was she scared of sharing him with
Samantha? Afraid that his love for his long lost sister
would dilute his love for her? Could Dana Scully be that
selfish? He hadn't thought so.

Mulder stretched himself out on the damp ground, the sun
sinking slowly into the horizon behind him. He buried his
head in his arms and remained that way for a very long time,
just thinking. The tears began to flow again a short time
later and he knew that the little girl in the hospital room
was indeed Samantha Mulder, his sister. His baby sister. He
had waited a long time to see her again. Mulder had come
close a couple of years ago when the clones had claimed to be
his sister. That little girl in there *was* her, he could
feel it. He could tell just by the way she looked at him.
The sound of her voice sent chills down his spine. He wanted
to bring her back into the family. Could he have them both?

-----

Dana Scully slowly dragged herself up the steps to the
entrance of the hospital. She felt like hell. There were so
many things she needed to sort out. She couldn't figure out
why she had been upset when Mulder told her that he wanted to
adopt Samantha. She didn't know why the thought of it
made her stomach turn and sink slightly. Perhaps it had been
because she had received all of his attention for the last
five years and wouldn't be used to it being divided. <Dana,
Samantha is a little girl. You know Mulder loves you, he
proved it to you just today. . .> No matter how she tried
to deny it, the truth was there, lurking behind it all. She
was jealous. She wanted to have Mulder to herself, to
explore this new found avenue of their friendship.

She realized that by her own jealousy, she just might
have driven away the only man she'd loved for the last five
years. She was going to have to deal with Samantha, if she
was the real Samantha, and accept her as part of Mulder. All
part of the package.

She pulled the door open and walked down the hallway to
the elevators. She waited patiently, thankful that the time
would allow her eyes to dry. The tears had begun to fall
just after Mulder had run from her. The elevator arrived and
Scully rode up in silence, finding a bathroom close to the
wing where Mickey and Chloe were waiting for her. She rinsed
her face and made sure that there was no trace of the anguish
she felt, although she had a feeling Chloe would know the
instant she entered the room, without Fox Mulder.

She walked slowly, deliberately, towards the room. She
pushed through the door and looked at the little girl who was
sleeping peacefully on the examination table.

"Mickey?" Scully asked. "Could you take her home to her
foster parents? Tell them to keep a close eye on her," she
said, an even and cool tone escaping her lips. She was glad
for that one small savior.

"Sure, Agent Scully. No problem," he replied. Chloe
looked over Scully. Dana watched as her expression changed,
noting that the other woman was taking mental notes, getting
ready to ask questions at a later time. Scully found herself
looking forward to getting everything off her chest. Chloe
Grant was the perfect person to talk to. She seemed so. . .
She was just very empathetic. Grant herself had even
mentioned a bad experience with a man. Scully would not make
a point to dump on the woman, but if she asked questions,
Scully knew she'd break down. Perhaps Grant sensed that too.
Perceptive.

"Mickey, I'm going to go out and get some tea. Make sure
you feed that kid, we promised, remember?" Chloe said, then
grasped Scully's arm and fixed her with a purely sympathetic
look. "Why don't you come with me? You look a little
stressed."

Scully nodded, unable to say anything, not trusting her
own words.

"Uhm, I'll see you back at the hotel, then I guess?"
Mickey said, catching, for once, the negative vibes that were
flowing through the room. He wondered how one person could
change moods so quickly. He'd never seen anyone go from
being on cloud nine, like Agent Scully had been that morning,
to completely stressed. This case was definitely getting
weirder and it was almost time he demanded some answers.

-----

Orange Peel Coffee House
Orangeburg, South Carolina
9:18 PM

Chloe Grant sipped at her cup of tea, sitting across from
Dana Scully in a deserted coffee shop. She glanced at
Scully, who hadn't uttered a word since they left the hotel.
Sometimes Chloe hated being so quick to pick up on other
people's feelings. Sometimes it played havoc on her own
system.

"Where's Agent Mulder?" she asked, finally.

"I don't know," Dana replied a little too sharply,
looking away from her cup, which she had been staring into
since they had arrived, and out the window.

"Hold on here. Just this morning you were so-- Well,
just what the hell is going on here?" Chloe said, sounding
angry, even though she wasn't really. She wanted Agent
Scully to realize just how serious she was about solving this
case, and if the two older agents were going to get in the
way, she wanted to get them out. No matter how much she
admired Dana Scully, she needed to solve this case. Her
first real case. "Who the hell is this Samantha and just
what does she mean to Mulder?" Chloe asked, realizing that
she'd spoken a little louder than she had intended and had
attracted the attention of the stout woman at the counter.
<God, I'm tired,> she thought. Her muscles were getting sore
from the accident and her broken finger hurt and she needed
to get some sleep. It had been one hell of a long day.

Across from her, Dana Scully's gaze hardened and her eyes
glistened. She set her jaw. Her grip tightened on the mug
before her, making her knuckles turn white. Chloe had set
her off and would probably pay for it with a few harsh words.

"Agent Mulder," Scully said angrily, "has decided to
play 'disappear'. I don't know where he is and frankly right
now, I don't care," the doctor blurted. Apparently Scully
wasn't angry at Chloe herself.

"Dana, what happened? Between you and me, as friends.
Explain it to me. I want to listen. You need someone to
talk to," Chloe said, reaching out and taking the older
woman's hand in hers. She could feel Scully's hand shaking
beneath her firm grip. Scully was definitely using every
ounce of her strength to keep from breaking down completely.

Chloe let go of her hand, and looked sympathetically at
Scully as the tears slowly began to flow down her cheeks.

"Fox Mulder lost his sister a very long time ago. That
little girl in that room resembles her to a 't'. That little
girl *is* his sister," Scully spat out, finally. Chloe
nodded as the pieces fell together. Of course, she should
have guessed from the reactions. "He wants to adopt her.
Wants to let her have a real family. This family, it
includes--" Scully stopped, burying her hands in her face.
"It includes Mulder, me and Samantha. He wanted to--" she
stopped again, but this time did not continue. Chloe nodded.
Both women remained silent.

Chloe sighed inwardly. Obviously Fox Mulder had no idea
just what he meant to Dana Scully. She did not ask any more
questions. Dana didn't reveal any more information although
Chloe knew that she needed to. Perhaps Dana wanted to deal
with it internally. Chloe shook her head, remembering back
to her own miserable relationship. She pushed the thoughts
from her head. Maybe some day she'd explain to someone. Not
tonight.

She drank the last of her tea, and waited for Dana.

-----

End Part Fourteen
--
*Disclaimer: See Part One.

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

Part Fifteen

-----

Orangeburg Hospital

Samantha woke up with a start. She had just been having
one of her dreams, but this time, at long last, there were
people in it. Or one person, at least. Her brother. And it
was Fox. Sam searched the small examining room for his face,
but found only Agent Cavellelo in the room.

"Morning, sunshine. Have a nice nap?" Mickey asked with
a smile. This, he could handle. He had little sisters and
nieces and 8 year olds weren't nearly as frustrating as women
in their twenties.

She returned his smile, then looked around the room
again. "Where is everybody? Did Dana and Fox come back,
yet?" she asked.

Mickey took a deep breath, trying to quickly gather his
thoughts. "Ah, no, they had some real important FBI stuff to
do. They'll see you later, probably tomorrow. Chloe had to
go with them. So, I guess that means I get to 'escort' you
to lunch, Miss Samantha," he said, with much gallantry. It
got the desired effect. The little girl broke into giggles.
"Shall we go? Opps Cinderella, I think your ball gown needs
some work," he said suddenly, remembering the hospital gown.
"How about if I wait outside and you change into the one your
Fairy Godmother gave you?"

"If I'm Cinderella, does that make you the Prince,"
Samantha giggled with delight.

"Nah, it makes me Nana the Dog, but hey, at least I'm in
the story, right?" he smiled in return and left her alone to
change.

It took Sam no time at all to change and then she was in
the hallway, looking for Mickey.

"Where do you wish to dine, milady?" he asked in grave
tones.

"Well, the Dairy Queen is my favorite," she confided
shyly.

"Then Dairy Queen, it is. But you'll have to direct me.
I may look like Bruno, but I lack his directional skills," he
confided in return. More giggles and the two left the
hospital.

"I called your foster parents. I told them I'd bring
you home after we have some lunch," Mickey told Sam as they
settled into Mulder's rental car. <Hope he doesn't come
looking for it?> Mickey thought. Whatever Mulder was doing,
it was confusing Mickey completely. Here was an experienced
agent, acting like a total loon. But that did fit in with
the rumours. Suddenly, he was beginning to regret agreeing
to have Scully and Mulder stick around. He had a case to
worry about, and babysitting a pair of nutcase agents did not
figure into his plans.

"Turn here at the corner," Sam said, pointing and
bringing Mickey back to the present.

"Hey, you're good," Mickey said with admiration as they
pulled up in front of the Dairy Queen. "You can direct me
any time," he added.

"I told you, it's my favorite place," she replied and
quickly exited the car, racing him to the front door of the
restaurant.

"Okay, Sam. This is on the government, since you're
helping with our investigation. The sky's the limit. What
do you want?" Mickey asked, surveying the menu board above
their heads.

"Hmmmm, I want a double cheeseburger, fries, a chocolate
milkshake, medium sized, and a hot fudge sundae for dessert,"
she rattled off the order.

Mickey's eyes grew wide. "Where are you planning on
putting all that food?" he exclaimed, noting her tiny frame.

Sam giggled again. "I TOLD you I was hungry. I missed
lunch at school and I didn't eat much at breakfast. I was
helping dress the little kids," she said and then grew quiet.

Mickey waited until the food arrived and they had sat
down to talk again. "You woke up pretty hard in the
hospital. Did you have a bad dream?" he asked.

"No. I told you, I don't have 'bad' dreams. It was a
good dream. And Chloe wanted to know more about my brother."
She grew silent and stared out the window for a minute.
"Does Fox have any brothers or sisters?" she asked suddenly.
For some reason, she didn't want to tell Mickey about her
dream, but she wanted him to answer some questions she had,
nonetheless.

"He had a little sister once, but she disappeared,"
Mickey answered truthfully.

Samantha acknowledged his answer with a nod. Then
brightly asked, "Hey, do you like baseball?"

Fox Mulder took a deep breath and walked over to the
parking lot. Cavellelo obviously still had his car. He had
already checked the room and found that Mickey and Samantha
had left and that Chloe and Scully were nowhere to be found.
<No big surprise there,> he thought ruefully. From the lookDana's face
the last time he had seen her, he wouldn't
have been surprised if she were packed and half way to the
airport by now. <Damn, when did you get to be such an
idiot?> he chided himself. The only option he had left was
to go back to the hotel, and figure out what would really be
best for Sam.

Half way to the hotel, it struck him. Maybe he WAS
asking too much. Maybe Dana wasn't jealous, she just wasn't
up to taking on the responsibility of an 8 year old child.
Sure, she had been willing to help him find his sister. But
that was when they thought they would find a 30 year old
woman. Someone who might need some emotional support
returning to her old life, but who would have at least gone
through adolescence. Looking at it from Dana's perspective,
he could see why she had reacted the way she did. Now, he
had to figure out how to make it right. There were two women
in his life suddenly, and he refused to think he would have
to lose either of them, ever again.

Orange Peel Diner

"Look," Chloe said, using her best 'mother hen' voice.
"I think you need to go and think this through. Everyone's
emotions are riding a little bit too high, right now. You
need to be alone and figure out what's best for you, what's
best for Mulder and maybe, even, since you are the rational
one of this duo, what's best for Samantha. I do think Mulder
is right on one score. Growing up in a foster home is not
the most desirable lifestyle. If there is an alternative, it
deserves to be looked into. But whether or not YOU fit into
that picture, well, that's got to be up to you."

Dana nodded slowly and started to get up. "Chloe, I . .
. I mean, Thank you," Dana said softly.

"Don't mention it. Especially since I could be arrested
for practicing psychiatry without a license," she grinned in
return. Dana smiled for a second and then left for the
hotel.

The walk to the hotel wasn't far, just a couple of
blocks, but it gave Dana a chance to think. <Okay, Starbuck,
let's review,> she said to herself. <In the last 24 hours,
you made love to the man you have been in love with for oh, 5
years. Twice, even. And that same man, who you have to
admit you are more than willing to spend the rest of your
life with, has proposed. So what is wrong with this
picture?> She chewed on her lip awhile. <Oh, yeah, you
forgot to add the little surprise addition of an eight year
old girl to raise,> she thought ruefully. <That does add a
new dimension to the picture, after all.>

A child to raise. Of course, Dana wanted kids. She
might have put off having them so that she could pursue her
career, but that didn't mean she was completely oblivious to
her own loudly ticking biological clock. And the man she
could most easily envision having those children with was
definitely Fox Mulder. <So what is the real problem?> she
asked herself again.

<Well, for starters, Samantha is NOT 'our' child.> She
was Fox's sister. Dana had no part in her, had no
connection. She could see herself loving the little girl,
simply because she meant so much to Fox. But what would
happen when their own children started to make an appearance?
How would they fit into to Fox's affections? Would Fox even
want other children, since he already had one to raise--the
one he had spent 20 some years searching for?

She considered for a minute exactly what she was doing.
<You certainly are not giving the man you love very much
credit,> she decided. She knew how loving he was. She knew
how much he loved her. She knew he had even traded Samantha
for her, once in his life. So why, in the world, did she
think so much less of him now?

<He hit you with it at the wrong time,> she concluded.
In the light of a little reason, what he was suggesting was
something she might have suggested herself, given time to
think through the options. But in typical Mulder fashion, he
was two steps ahead of her thought processes and as a result,
she had balked at his suggestion. <Which is pretty standard
procedure in your relationship,> she had to admit. The only
difference now was that their relationship was so much
deeper. And so much more emotional. Mulder could accept her
questioning his theories on a professional level. But, her
reluctance to jump on a marriage proposal, to him, was a
rejection of *him*, not just a desire to think it through.
<Oh, my God, did you screw up this time, Starbuck!> she
decided.

She was almost to the hotel when she saw the lanky form
in the doorway. He must have seen her, because he was
standing there, waiting.

"Hi," he said quietly, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Hi, yourself," she answered. "Are you feeling any
better?"

"Depends," he replied.

"On?" she asked.

"On how badly I screwed us up," he said softly.

She stood there and gazed up at him. "I don't think
even you could manage to make me stop loving you, Mulder. If
you haven't figured that out by now, I obviously have my work
cut out for me." That elicited a small smile. "We still
have a lot to talk about, though," she added.

"I know," he said. "And I owe you an apology, too. It
wasn't fair of me to dump all of this on you so suddenly.
That was stupid, and selfish, and. . ."

"Typical?" she smiled, just barely restraining a
chuckle.

"Am I that bad?" he countered.

"Sometimes," she admitted. She saw his face fall again.
"But not all the time. It's just that, sometimes, Mulder,
you forget that you need to let me catch up, you know. You
race so far ahead that that I have to run twice as fast to
keep up with you. That goes for your mental processes, as
well as jogging."

"I'm sorry. I'm really very, very sorry. I can't
promise I won't ever do it again, but please believe me that
I never meant to hurt you or scare you away. . ." he pleaded.
She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

"I know that. And I may have overreacted a little, too.
You have to know, Fox, I meant it when I said I love you.
And I meant it when I said I would be there for you, however
you need me. But this is a big step, several big steps,
really, and I think we owe it to ourselves, AND to Samantha,
to sit down and think it through before we rush in to
anything. That doesn't mean my answer is 'no'. It means I
take this proposition so seriously, that I want to make
absolutely sure we are doing the right thing, for all of us.
Can you understand and accept that?"

"Ever the practical one," he smiled at her.

"One of us has to be, occasionally," she pointed out.

"So, let's go up to your room and talk it out," he said,
opening the door.

She hesitated. "I don't know, Mulder. I don't think
that's such a good idea. Seems like every time we try to
discuss something in that room, we end up not discussing much
at all," she said in a low suggestive tone.

He had to chuckle. "Okay, then we can go to my room. I
have all my files on the bed, so *maybe* we might actually
consider talking less work than, ah, other activities," he
said and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed and nodded in
agreement.

--------

Chloe was waiting for Mickey in the hotel when he
returned from dropping off Samantha at her foster home. She
had a sheaf of faxes the desk clerk had given her in her
hand and a very disturbed look on her face.

"What's the matter, now?" Mickey asked, feeling a little
like Alice in Wonderland. Every time he turned around, this
case just got curiouser and curiouser.

"I did a little checking. Seems that Mulder might have
been on to something. Apparently, he called the DC office
this afternoon and asked to have missing persons run a cross
match on all the victims with their data files. Mickey,
every one of those kids showed up on a list," Chloe said,
handing the faxes over to Mickey.

He sat down in a wing chair and read through the pages.
"Chloe, some of these kids have been reported missing for . .
.my gosh, 20 years! That's not possible! These were little
kids, not midgets! What the heck. . ."

Chloe stifled a grin. "Cavellelo, do you EVER cuss?"
she couldn't help but ask.

"Grant, when I'm mad enough to curse, stand back. You
won't want to be in the shockwave," he answered with
conviction. She eyed him suspiciously and nodded her
acceptance. "And looky here," he added, coming to the last
page. "Samantha Ann Mulder. Missing since Nov. 27, 1972.
Eight years old, brown hair, hazel eyes." The fax contained
a picture of young Samantha. "Now, THAT'S 'Spooky' for you!"
He handed the pages back. "Okay, so now we have 7 people who
never grew up, who have green blood, who were all abducted
from their homes as children, suddenly showing up in
Orangeburg, South Carolina, some as long as 23 years after
their abductions, and 6 of them are already dead. Hey,
I'm ready to go back to wire tap, how about you?"

Chloe scoffed at him. "Michael, Michael, Michael. . .I
never thought of you as a quitter. C'mon, that's what the
NORMAL agents are there for! We're the X-Files--ALL of our
cases are likely to be like this one! Where is your sense of
adventure? As far as I'm concerned, this case is just
starting to get interesting! I only wish. . ." she trailed
off, looking up the stairs of the old hotel.

"Wish we could actually get some assistance from our
'assistants'?" he added, to end her thought.

"Yeah, something like that," she sighed.

"Well, at least it makes more sense, how. I mean, if it
had been my sister. . .I would have freaked, too I guess.
But that doesn't really explain Scully's actions. I mean,
it's not like they're involved or anything," he said, then
caught the look Chloe was giving him. "Or are they?" he
asked, this time suspicious.

"Are all Irish-Italians from Chicago as dense as you, or
did you just fall off the family milk wagon once too often?"
Chloe asked, disgusted.

"Hey, I lived a sort of sheltered life! Gimme a break
here. Besides, he didn't say anything. . ." Mickey tried to
defend himself.

"And I'm sure when you sleep with a woman, IF you ever
do, you go out and blab it to the first person you meet," she
shot back. Mickey blanched. <Uh oh, wrong thing to say,>
Chloe slapped herself mentally.

"Oh," was the only word to escape Mickey's lips. There
was a few moments of uncomfortable silence, when he finally
regained his composure. "We better keep an eye on Samantha.
We may not know exactly who is after her or why, but I think
it's fairly obvious that she is in danger, and at this point,
we seem to be the only people sane enough to protect her,"
Chloe nodded and followed him out the door.

-----

End Part Fifteen
--

*Disclaimer: See Part One.

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

Part Sixteen

-----

The shifting of the wind was enough to tell him that
the fire would burn rapidly through the house. It would
definitely be an easy job, especially with the aid of the can
of gasoline that he had been given. He silently walked
around the building, splashing the gas carelessly over the
walls. He made sure that it was thoroughly covered, stepping
away from the house and deeper into the shadows of the night.
From there, he lit a small piece of cloth, which had been
soaked in gasoline too, pushing it into the remainder of the
can. He heaved the can up over his head and tossed it easily
through the window, smiling at the thrilling sound of glass
breaking. As one final precaution, he lit a match and tossed
it into a patch of grass which he had made a trail of gas to.
It quickly caught fire, traveling quickly up to the walls of
the house. He watched as the blaze quickly engulfed the
home, then turned and ran away, not leaving any evidence of
having been there... Except another tiny button from the
military suit jacket he'd been wearing.

-----

An affair! Agent Scully and Agent Mulder were having
a damned affair and Chloe Grant had known about it. Mickey
Cavellelo was furious. Why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he
picked up on it? And of course, the fact that it was
interfering with their work was even worse. As Chloe drove
slowly towards the foster home of Samantha Mulder, he sat in
the passenger seat, thinking about his obvious blindness.

"I can't believe it," he mumbled, staring into the
darkness, out the window of the passenger door.

"What?" Chloe asked, flashing a quick glance in his
direction. Mickey hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud.

"They're having an affair," he said, straining to keep
the disappointment out of his voice. He should have known
better, Chloe picked up on it directly.

"Relationship. Neither one is married, so therefore
it's not an affair," Chloe corrected, happily. Mickey
balled his fist, controlling his temper.

"Thank you," he said, seething. "I don't care what
they're having, except the fact that they're messing up this
case!" he cried. His cheeks flushed red and he stared at
Chloe. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I would never *ever*
have agreed to let them help."

"Okay, let's get some things straight. For one, I'm
sick of your attitude. Mulder was the one who originally had
the idea of checking against the missing persons database.
Without that, we wouldn't have found out what these children
had in common," Chloe said, feeling her own temper rising.
Mickey had better watch it, because her temper did not rise
often. "Without their help, we'd be back in Washington by
now, scratching our heads and wondering what wiretap would
really be like."

"Chloe--"

"And for another thing," Chloe's voice had grown
harsh. "If you don't clean up your act, you're going to
discover just how good at bone rearrangement I really am!"
she said, trying to keep focus on the driving.

"You don't have to get so upset, I just don't like
the way everyone is keeping things from me," he said, trying
to calm himself and his partner down.
"Michael, they didn't want to tell you for that
*exact* reason. You blew your lid. Besides, it's their life
and they can do whatever the fuck they please. Do you
understand?" she asked, turning the corner and pushing the
gas pedal down. She was still a little weary about the
accident that had occurred just yesterday, her concussion
hurt, not to mention driving with her broken finger, but she
was angry enough not to care.

"Yeah, I get what you're trying to say, but this is
my first case and I just don't want to mess it up!"

"You think I want to mess it up? You're wrong. And
you know what, I'm starting to wonder if this partnership is
really worth it. All we ever do is argue, all the time!"

"Chloe, please--"

"What, Mickey? Does that hurt your feelings, that I
can't work with you because you're so damned stubborn? You
seem to think that women have a place only at the home. I've
proven that theory incorrect. Agent Scully has proven that
theory incorrect. I'm sick of your bullshit! And your
temper, that's another thing entirely!" Chloe said. Finally
she slammed on the brakes, too angry to drive.

The street was dark, almost all of the lamps burnt
out. She threw open her door. She knew now that she was
over-reacting. The worst part was that she needed to get it
out of her system. Needed to yell at someone. She wanted to
put all the blame on Mickey. The accident. The death of the
young girl. The loss of the button. And yet, none of those
things were his fault at all. She stepped out onto the
street and turned her face up to the sky, slowly summoning
her courage to help control her anger. Surely, as she
regained composure, Mickey was at her side, staring at her.

"Chloe?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder,
unsure of what else to do. Suddenly, she began to laugh, as
if it were all a drama for his benefit.

"I'm sorry, Mickey. I'm just so damned tired. Do
you think Sam will be alright, at least for tonight?"

"I guess so," he said quietly. His hand was still
firmly in place on her shoulder. "Tell me something,
Chloe..." She nodded slowly. "Did you mean it? Did you
really mean what you said about working with me?"

"No," she said, reaching up and patting his cheek.
"No. No, I didn't. You've got to understand one thing about
me. I seem to be very perceptive when it comes to other
people's emotions. It's been a curse of mine since I was a
little girl," she paused, moving away and leaning against
the car. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. "You
see, sometimes when a lot of things have happened and a lot
of people are on edge, I get filled with, well, 'angst', for
lack of a better word. Especially if I'm as exhausted as I
am tonight. I'll get irritable and I end up taking it,
irrationally, out on whoever is nearest," she said, sighing
again. She felt the car move slightly as he leaned against
it beside her. He put his arm around her shoulder, causing
her to open her eyes. She turned to look at him.

"I understand. Like I said, though, I wish you'd
tell me these things sooner. I'm not at all perceptive, as
I'm sure you've guessed."

"I guessed," she said. He nodded, his arm lingering
around her shoulder for a moment longer.

"Let's go home. I'll get up early and go to talk to
Samantha's foster parents. We'll see if they'll let us take
her into protective custody at least until we figure this
out," he said, pushing away from the car. As he began to
walk away, Chloe suddenly reached out and grasped his wrist.
He turned to her and looked in the dim light at her. For a
moment, he felt something strange pass between? them, but it
passed as she spoke.

"You're driving. I can't. I'm too tired," she said,
letting go of his hand and walking slowly past him to the
passenger side of the car. <Whew, that was close,> he
thought, looking quickly up at the stars. <Thanks again.>
Mickey was acutely aware of just how close he had come to
losing the greatest partner. He knew he'd have to clean up
his act and watch what he said. No more speculating out
loud, that was for damned sure.

-----

Queen's Motel
5:45 AM

Fox Mulder awoke to the sound of his cell phone
ringing. Dana Scully had retreated to her own room two hours
after they had returned to discuss things. He wished he
could wrap his arms around her body, just once more, but knew
that it would be a while before that might happen again.
Scully was just a little too weary about the whole thing. He
ached to have her in his arms but pushed the thoughts aside,
afraid that if he dwelt on it for too long, he'd be unable to
stop himself from going to her.

Another ring brought him back to life. He jumped off
the bed and grabbed the cell phone.

"Mulder," he said, sleepily.

"Fox Mulder?"

"Yes."

"This is Samantha's foster father, Richard Jessup,"
the man on the other end sounded upset. His voice cracked as
he spoke, obviously worried about something.

"How can I help you, sir?" Mulder asked, vaguely
wondering where the man had gotten his cell phone number.

"Well, one of the other foster homes has been
torched. The house is just up the street from us. I went
down when I heard the fire trucks. When I got back to tell
my wife, Samantha went into hysterics and asked that I call
you. I didn't have your number, so I called the FBI and
talked to a man named Skinner. This was the number he gave
me--" Mulder was no longer listening. He was panicked. If
Samantha was in trouble, he needed to help her.

"Sir, has she been hurt?"

"Who?"

"Samantha. Has she been hurt?" Mulder begged.

"No, Mr. Mulder. She's fine. But the other foster
home has been completely ruined. The fire marshall has
determined that everyone got out safe and sound, but Sam's
really scared. I think she's afraid we might be next."

"Okay, I'll send one of the other agents over to take
a look at the fire, as soon as possible."

"One more thing, Mr. Mulder..."

"Yes?"

"Samantha says that you're her brother. I don't know
where she got such a crazy idea, but is it true? Are you her
brother?"

"Sir, my sister disappeared a long time ago. I have
reason to believe that under strange circumstances she was
returned here, to Orangeburg, with no memories... In short,
yes, I believe so," Mulder said, feeling the pangs of the old
memories return to him. It felt so good to know that he had
finally found his sister. Samantha had been his everything,
his entire life. And now that he had Dana Scully too, his
life had just gotten better. With the promotion in the FBI,
he felt sure that he'd finally be able to rest. His entire
life seemed so pointless now. It felt good.

"Mr. Mulder, I'm glad I got a hold of you. Samantha
was worried about her friends at the foster home and I'm sure
she'll feel better now that you and your fellow agents will
be on the case. I think she's grown attached to your
friends. She mentioned one, Chloe, I think Sam said her name
was. Anyway, I'm sorry I had to wake you up for this, but
she just wouldn't go back to sleep."

"Thank you for calling, sir. And..."

"Mr. Mulder?"

"Keep an eye on Sam. I can't afford to lose her
again."

"Always, Mr. Mulder. Goodnight," the man said, and
hung up. Mulder pushed the END button on his phone and sat
staring into the night for a few moments. Why had someone
wanted to torch the foster home? There were only four or five
other children living there and surely they weren't all
related to the case. They couldn't all have green blood.
Green blood. That was something else, Samantha had green
blood. Was it alien? Was his sister an alien? Mulder
shuddered at the thought. He wanted to scoop Sam up and get
her out of this town, away from all the misery and death.
She'd already had one friend cut down by this unseen killer
and for all he knew, they still weren't any closer to finding
out what was going on.

Mulder slipped out of his bed and pulled on a robe,
quietly opening the door which joined his and Scully's
rooms. He had to talk to her. He needed to take Samantha
back to Washington as soon as possible. He wanted to be sure
the little girl would be safe.

He padded silently into her room, hearing the shallow
breathing of his best friend. He reached the edge of her
bed, then looked down at the sleeping form. She looked
beautiful in the soft moonlight that was streaming in from
the single window of the room. Her auburn hair cascaded over
the pillow, silky and shiny. Mulder reached out, to awake
her, but suddenly a new emotion washed over him. He snatched
back his hand, as though touching her might burn his flesh.
Mulder gasped, quietly then stumbled back a few steps, a
realization hitting his stomach like a rock.

Dana Scully was in just as much danger as Samantha
was, although not the same danger. Fox Mulder realized that
even if he managed to get Samantha back to Washington, they
would still come after him. If they came after him, they
might try to get to him by using Scully.

Tears began to stream down his face. He was in total
turmoil. He couldn't leave Scully, but he couldn't leave
Samantha either. It was evident that he couldn't have both.
It would not be an easy choice, but a choice that he was
required to make, just the same. Mulder gathered his wits
about him and silently left Dana to her sleep, closing the
door softly behind him. He did not awake her to tell her
that he was leaving. He did not leave a letter explaining
where he was going and he did not take his cellular phone
with him. His heart broke in two, one half left in that room
with the sleeping auburn haired woman, the other floating out
to the little girl who had so much of her life left to live.

Fox Mulder had decided. Dana could find other men.
She would get over him, but Samantha needed his help now.
She was his little sister. The first person he had loved.
The one he had been searching for. She needed his help and
he had made that choice, no matter how much it hurt.

-----

September 4, 1995
Queen's Motel
9:23 AM

Dana Scully walked around her room, looking for an
earring that she must've lost the previous day. So much had
been happening that she didn't even realize it was gone.

She shook her head, which was sopping wet from the
shower she'd just had. The earring was no where to be found
and finally Dana gave up. She guessed that it must've fallen
off when she and Mulder... Mulder. She hadn't seen him this
morning.

Pulling the robe tighter around her body, Scully went
to the joining door and knocked. He did not answer. She
knocked again.

"Mulder, it's me. Can I come in?" Again he didn't
answer. Afraid that he wasn't awake yet, Dana turned the knob
and pushed into the room. She looked around quickly. Mulder
was no where to be seen. His clothes were gone and his files
were gone. He'd even made his bed. There was nothing left in
the room except for the lone cellular phone.

Scully's jaw immediately slackened. Her lips began
to tremble, along with the rest of her body. She felt as
though she were going to fall backwards. She stumbled towards
the wall, leaning slowly against it.

"Fox Mulder, you asshole," she whispered. She
lifted her chin and set her jaw, trying to figure out just
what she'd done to him, to make him leave. She'd thought
they'd discussed it all last night. She'd thought that he'd
understood when she said that she needed time to consider it.
She should have told him that she would marry him. She
should have made absolutely sure that he knew she wanted to
be with him.

<It's not your fault!> she tried to tell herself.
<He's got a good reason,> she thought. She just couldn't
accept that.

A sharp knock at the door brought her out of her
inner turmoil. She stared at the door, not wanting to
answer it. With her luck it would be Cavellelo and then
she'd be right up the creek with no paddle.

"Agent Mulder?"called the definite male voice.

"Damn," Scully muttered, and was surprised when the
door creaked open. Mickey poked his head around and was
stunned discover Scully leaning against the wall. Her face
must've betrayed her feelings because he immediately scooted
in, closing the door behind him.

"Where's Agent Mulder?" he asked, eyeing Scully. The
red in her cheeks and the way she was trembling hinted at
what had happened.

"Do I look like I know?" she snapped, and regretted
it almost immediately.

"Agent Scully, what's going on?" Mickey asked.

-----

End Part Sixteen