*Disclaimer: See Part One.

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

Part Seventeen

-----

Richard and Tess Jessup's residence
6:30 am

Fox Mulder stood at the door and banged with all his
might. After an eternity, Richard Jessup arrived at the door,
looking just a little angry, with a shotgun in his right
hand. He took in the hyper young man on his doorstep and
narrowed his eyes, taking the shotgun into both hands in a
defensive gesture.

"Mr. Jessup, I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder. . .Samantha's
brother," he said hastily, holding up his ID for the older
man to see. Mr. Jessup studied it and the face of the young
man standing before him, then remembered his conversation
with the Assistant Director. He relaxed visibly and then
opened the screen door.

"Mr. Mulder, I didn't expect you by this early. Come on
in, I'll put on some coffee."

"No, Mr. Jessup, I don't think I can stay that long.
I've come for Samantha. I believe that fire last night was
set deliberately and Sam's in danger. I'm taking her under
protective custody." He chewed on his lip, hoping the older
man wouldn't want to verify any of this with the local
authorities. He did have the authority to do what he was
about to do, but he didn't want anyone alerted to his
whereabouts. Especially Scully.

For a moment, Jessup looked like he was going to pick up
the phone. Then, he thought better of it and simply nodded.
"Let me get Tess up. She'll help Sam gather her things."
Mulder let out a breath he had been holding and nodded in
return. He watched Jessup go up the stairs and almost
collapsed into an arm chair in relief. This was going to
work. He would leave the rental car up the road and get
another under a different name. Then, he and Sam would get
the hell away from the state, the country, the continent,
if he had his way. No one, not Cancerman, not the FBI, not
the killer would find them. <Not even Scully,> a small voice
said and a tiny piece of his heart broke off and fell into
his stomach. He closed his eyes for just a minute and let
himself remember how wonderful it had felt to hold her in his
arms, to know that she loved him.

He shook his head angrily. Such thoughts were *very*
counterproductive at this point. He should be happy that he
had been loved by Dana Scully, that they had any time
together. He couldn't be with her again, but the last five
years had been enough for a lifetime, he tried to convince
himself. It was enough that he had found Samantha. To hope
that he could have a 'normal' life, a wife, a home, children,
that was all too much. That would never happen and he would
have to get accustomed to the idea. Samantha needed him,
that's all he needed to know.

Rest Inn
7:45 am

"He's gone," Mickey said flatly to Chloe as she
approached the door. He had been standing in the hall,
waiting for her since his phone call. He didn't think he
could take looking at Dana Scully's face one more minute--it
made his head hurt to see the desolation in her eyes.

"Well, where did he go?" Chloe asked evenly.

"If we knew that, do you think we'd be sitting it out
here at the motel?" he asked crossly, then immediately
remembered their 'conversation' of the night before. "I'm
sorry, Chloe, I didn't mean that like it sounded. No, we
have no idea. He didn't leave a note, and he left his cell
phone behind. I called the Jessups' house and he showed up
there about 6 am, took Sam and some of her clothes and said
he was taking her into protective custody. Then they left.
Mr. Jessup has no idea where they went. I didn't want to ask
too many questions, I think I was beginning to worry him. I
mean, it's not like Mulder is the killer or anything. I
think the little girl is safe with him. It's just that,
well," he stopped talking and turned to look at Scully, still
sitting on the edge of the bed. "She's a basket case," he
whispered.

"I feel sort of like I'm back in college, right after
the big Homecoming Game 'sleep over'," Chloe muttered, and
walked past Mickey and into the room. "Dana? Hey, you
okay?"

Dana looked up, as if just realizing that someone was in
the room. "Chloe. Yeah, I'm fine." But her eyes betrayed
her and the tears were still wet on her cheeks. "He's such a
stupid bastard sometimes, y'know?"

"Directly related to testosterone poisoning," Chloe said
with a grin. She was relieved to see the grin Dana returned
to her. "Now, you were his partner *forever*. What would
his next move be?"

Interstate 26
9:00 am

"Fox?" Samantha had been quiet the entire time, not
even speaking when he stopped at the very next town and
gotten another rental car. Now, they had been driving for
almost an hour and she couldn't keep her silence any longer.

"What, Sam?" he asked, surprised to hear her voice.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, a frown furrowed across
her brow.

He looked like she had slapped him. "No! Of course
not. What makes you ask that?"

"You seem like you're mad at somebody. I just wanted to
make sure you aren't mad at me. I mean, for all the trouble
I've caused," she said quietly.

<Another chunk of my heart,> he thought. "Sweetheart,
you haven't been any trouble. What makes you think that?" he
asked gently.

"Well, we're running away, aren't we? That's why we got
a different car. And you haven't called anybody on your
phone, to tell them where we're going. You told Richard that
you were putting me under protective custody--I saw that on
TV. It means that I'm in danger, right? That's sounds like
I'm a *lot* of trouble, if you ask me," she concluded
thoughtfully.

He groaned inwardly. <She always was smarter than you,
stupid, why did you think now would be any different?> "Sam,
we need to talk. Yes, you are in danger. The man that's
been hurting those other kids, well, I have very good reason
to believe that he wants to hurt you, too. So, we are
leaving. We're going to go someplace very far away, where he
can't find you. But I will promise you, you will be safe.
And . . ." He hesitated just a moment. "And you'll
be with me. I'll take care of you, Sammi. Just like I
should have been doing all along."

"Where's Dana?" she asked, looking out the window at the
scenery passing by.

He didn't answer at first. He didn't want to lie to
her. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, still looking out the window. "I figured
she'd be with us. You know, since you love her and all. I
figured she'd be with you, that we would all be together."
She turned and looked at him. "I really like her. And you
need somebody to take care of you, Fox. If you're taking
care of me, *some* body has to take care of you," she said
pointedly.

"Dana stayed behind," was all he would say and from the
look on his face, she was afraid to ask anything else.

Rest Inn
Chloe's room
11:30 am

"Well, I've called in all the favors I have back in DC.
We should have the customer list from every car rental agency
in the closest five counties within the hour," Chloe said
confidently. "But I was hoping to get over to the scene of
the fire." She noticed Dana's raised eyebrow. "Oh, it's not
that I don't trust Michael," she hastened to add. "I just
feel better if I'm somewhere within fifty feet of him. He as
an uncanny ability to piss people off," she said with a
rueful shake of her head.

"I understand perfectly," Dana replied. She had calmed
down considerably once it became obvious that they were going
to try and find Mulder. There was no way she was going to
let him get by with walking out without a word. She would
hunt him down like a dog, but she'd find him. It was only a
matter of time. "Chloe, why don't you go on ahead over to
the house. I can wait here to get the faxes. If I get a good
lead, I'll call you," she said, getting up and ushering the
younger agent out the door.

"You're sure about this? I mean, if you don't want to
be left alone. . ."

"Don't be ridiculous. This isn't the first time Mulder
has run off and left me high and dry. I'm used to it. Now,
run along and keep Mickey out of trouble. We still have a
case to solve, somewhere in this whole mess."

Chloe nodded and left, hoping that she'd get there in
time to head Mickey off from whatever rampage he was most
certainly engaged in.

The phone rang, and Dana picked it up, expecting it to
be the desk clerk, alerting her to the arrival of the faxes.

"Chloe," a little girl's voice asked.

"No, this is Dana Scully. Chloe's not here right now,
can I take a message?"

"Oh, Dana! I'm so glad it's you." Suddenly Dana
recognized the voice.

"Samantha, is that you?" she demanded and then softened.
"Sweetheart, aren't you with Fox?"

"Yeah, we're at a truck stop for lunch. Dana, why
aren't you coming with us?"

Dana swallowed. "Well, sweetheart. . ."

"I really want you to come with us, Dana. I'm scared.
I don't want Fox to get hurt. You two are always together.
I'm afraid if you aren't here, he might get hurt. Please
come with us, Dana, please, please!" Her voice was shrill
and frightened and Dana was afraid she might start to cry.

"Where is Fox right now, Samantha? Does he know you're
calling me?"

"No. He's in the bathroom. I told him I had to go, but
I didn't. I wanted to call Chloe to get her to call you, but
you answered anyway."

"Honey, do you know where he's going? Maybe I can meet
you," Dana said, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"He said something about Chicago. He made reservations
in the name of George Hale. We're flying TWA out of Raleigh.
Flight 431. It leaves at 4:35 this afternoon. I was sort of
listening when he called the airlines," she admitted
sheepishly. "Dana, can you come to Raleigh and get on the
flight with us? Please?"

Dana smiled. This was a small miracle and she was not
about to let it slip past her. "Yes, honey. I'll have to
hurry, but I'll be there. You just get Fox to stay by the TWA
gate and I'll meet you," she instructed. Then the thought
hit her that 'Fox' might not be so happy about this turn of
events and try to bolt. "Oh, and Sam. Don't tell Fox I'm
coming. Let's make it our surprise, okay?"

Samantha giggled. "Yeah, just us. Our surprise. I'll
see you in Raleigh, Dana."

Raleigh-Durham Airport
4:30 pm

"Samantha, sit down! You're making me nervous. What
are you looking for?" Mulder hissed to his little sister.
<God, she's just like I remember her,> he smiled to himself.
Sam chewed a corner of her lip and stared at her
brother. "Nothin'. I'm not looking for anything. Just
lookin', okay?" she said testily.

Somehow, after they left the truck stop at 1:00, she had
relaxed and before long the two were talking and laughing and
Mulder realized how much he had missed her. He had always
known he missed her, but couldn't put his finger on exactly
why it hurt so badly. This afternoon had shown him all the
joy they had once shared, and it saddened him a little. It
would have been nice to have grown up 'with' his sister. But
by some twisted universal logic, he was still getting to
'watch' her grow up, and for that, he would thank whatever
entity or entities had finally returned her to him.

Sam scanned the crowd, this time checking to make sure
Fox had gone back to his NY Times Crossword puzzle before
doing so. Then, she saw her. She was going to wave, but
there was no need, Dana saw them. She nodded and hurried to
them, just before the first boarding call was made.

Ignoring her brother, Sam jumped up and ran to Dana.
She threw her arms around the agent. "I was afraid you
weren't going to make it," she cried and hugged her tighter.

"I had to drop off the rental car," Dana explained,
breathlessly. She returned the hug for a moment, not really
wanting to face the man who had slowly gotten up from his
seat and walked over to them. Taking a deep breath, she
looked up into his eyes. There she saw what she was hoping
to find. He wasn't angry, he was looking at her with all the
love she had seen just two nights before. Dana smiled in
return, hoping she reflected what she was seeing.

Finally, Sam let go of Dana and looked at both of them.
"I gotta go to the bathroom," she announced.

"I'll take you," Dana said absently, not letting her
eyes leave Mulder's.

Sam put her hands on her hips in a mock show of
defiance. "I'm 9 years old, Dana. I can go to the bathroom
all by myself! It's right over there, I'll be right back,"
and she stomped off in the direction she had pointed.

"That must be a genetic trait," Dana said with a
sheepish grin. "Stubbornness, defiance, going off on her own.
. ."

Mulder said nothing, just took a step and pulled her
into his arms, holding her tightly to him as if his very life
depended on it. After a second, he whispered in her ear,
"How did you find us?"

"Sam called. She seems to think that you need someone
to look after you. I managed to fit the qualifications," she
murmured in reply.

"I couldn't think of a better candidate for the job," he
said with a chuckle. The world was nothing more than Dana, in his arms,
until he felt a gentle tug on his
jacket.

"Are we gonna go, or not?" asked Sam, who had returned
from the bathroom. She was trying to sound annoyed, but
there was a grin on her face.

"I'm busy here, butt munch," Mulder said, not releasing
Dana from his embrace. Laughing, Dana pushed him away.

"We have a decision to make," she said, still smiling.

"I can't leave you again, but I have to make sure Sam's
safe. Can you catch the next flight, we'll wait at the
airport for you," he said seriously.

"Not a problem--'butt munch'," she laughed, and held up
her ticket for the flight just boarding. "I'm across the
aisle from you."

Harris Family residence
Orangesburg
1:30 pm

Chloe was frowning as Mickey approached her. "Still no
answer," she said tersely.

"Maybe she went back to her room," he suggested.

"Called there, no answer."

"Maybe she's taking a shower? Or the desk clerk called
with the faxes from DC and she's down there," he tried again.

"Her hair was wet when I got there this morning and I
called the clerk, he hasn't seen her." Chloe was staring off
into space, obviously trying to figure out her next move.

"Let's go back to the motel and check it out," Mickey
sighed with resignation. Chloe smiled at him and reached out
to ruffle his hair.

"You got potential, Callavelo." He shrugged in reply.
"But I'm still driving," she added sternly.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled.

Their investigation of the fire had produced no
additional leads and Mickey was just as glad to be going back
to the motel. He wasn't happy with the possibility that the
killer was still in town and their 'assistants' were busy
playing soap opera style games with each other, when they
should have been 'assisting'. He was even less happy when he
and Chloe discovered Dana's bags missing.

"Oh, shit!" Chloe cursed. Mickey looked up from his
survey of the room to find his partner holding up Dana
Scully's cell phone.

"Well," he muttered. "At least they're predictable."

"Yeah," answered Chloe with a grim chuckle, "they both
disappeared without a trace." Disheartened, she sat down on
the bed next to the night stand. "Then again. . ."

Mickey looked over at his partner, a scowl on his face.
She was rubbing a pencil over a small note pad that was
sitting next to the phone. "You got something," he asked
anxiously.

She greeted his remark with a broad smile. "Oh, I think
you could say that," she said, reaching for her purse and
starting for the door.

"Where are we going, now," he grumbled.

"Raleigh-Durham airport. And we better hurry, their
plane leaves at 4:35 and it's a quarter to 2 now."

-----

End Part Seventeen
--

*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 Eighteen

-----

Mickey reached out and abruptly grabbed Chloe's arm.
"Wait just a minute, Chloe," he said, frowning as she
stopped and glared unhappily at him.

"What?" she hissed, unintentionally.

Mickey drew back at the biting word and let go of her
arm. He crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his
eyes, thoughtfully.

"We can't both go, you know. We do have an
investigation to take care of here. Remember the case?" he
asked.

"Well, they've got the only child we can prove has
green blood. If something happens to Sam, we'll have lost
everything. I think at least one of us should go. . ."

"Let me," Mickey said and watched as Chloe's eyes grew
wide.

"You're offering?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes. I know Chicago better than the back of my hand.
If I go, at least I'll be able to locate them much faster
than you could."

"What am I going to do in the meantime?" Chloe asked,
wincing at the thought of being left in this town by herself.

"Look, why don't you follow up on the missing persons
report and see what else you can find out and I'll call you
when I can, okay?" Michael suggested and frowned outright.
He was not going to enjoy this.

"Mickey, I have an odd feeling about this. Something is
going on," she said and noticed as he nodded in
understanding. She sighed and whispered, "Just be careful
okay?"

"I will," he said and opened the door. Chloe grabbed
his arm this time and leaned close to his ear.

"Remember that I'm not there to keep you from pissing
anyone off," she warned before letting him go. He flashed
her a mischievous smile and breezed out of the room.

Once alone, Chloe Grant blew a puff of air out her
mouth. She made her way over to Scully's bed and sat
gingerly on the corner. She was alone with an investigation
that she had absolutely no leads on. With another sigh, she
flopped back on the bed intending to get a little rest while
she thought about her next move.

-----

Raleigh-Durham Airport
4:35 PM

Michael Callavelo drew his FBI badge and forced his way
to the front of the ticket line. He shoved his badge
hurriedly in front of the clerk's nose.

"I need a ticket for flight 431, now!" he declared.
The clerk smiled at him and opened her mouth. "Don't say you
can't give me one. I already know that line. This is a
federal emergency and I've got to be on that flight."

The clerk jerked her head up and eyed his badge
suspiciously before calling over a supervisor. Mickey spent
five minutes explaining that he needed to be on the flight
and that he didn't have time to argue. They relented and
gave him a seat but by then he had to run just to catch the
plane.

After he had gone, the clerk looked at the supervisor
and frowned.

"What's with all these federal agents?"

"Beats me," the supervisor said with a shrug and
turned away.

Mickey hadn't bothered to grab his bags on the way to
the plane. There wasn't any time. He told the supervisor to
have them shipped to the FBI headquarters in Washington and
that he'd pick them up there. He would have to make do with
the money he had on him, as well as his VISA.

He was short of breath by the time he'd boarded the
plane. He glanced at his ticket and looked down the row of
seats. He immediately spotted Scully in the center section
of the plane and beside her to the left were Mulder and
Samantha.

Sam was sleeping peacefully, her head leaned against
Fox Mulder's shoulder. Scully was engrossed in a magazine and
Mulder looked lost in space. He started down towards them,
coming to a stop before Scully. He loomed over her and
smiled when she looked up, startled.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, indicating the seat
beside Scully, which miraculously was the seat he'd managed
to snag.

"Mickey, what are you doing here?" Scully asked,
narrowing her eyes at him.

"We'll discuss this later," Mickey said as he sat down
beside her and buckled his seat belt, preparing for the
takeoff.

-----

Harris Family residence
Orangeburg, South Carolina

Chloe Grant frowned as she slipped her sunglasses from
her nose. She'd been over the crime scene twice more since
Mickey left. She still felt as though they had missed
something. The charred ground was only a reminder that they
still had no idea what was going on. She wondered if the
killer was just toying with them again. She sighed and
folded the glasses up, turning towards the entrance of the
house. She stared at the remains, black and still
smoldering.

<Now what?> she wondered for possibly the tenth time.
She dropped her eyes to the ground again, her gaze wandering
aimlessly around as she tried to think of what to do next.

Suddenly something caught the sunlight and seemed to
send an SOS to her. She frowned and walked towards the
shining in the grass. Bending, she picked up the little
button. It was exactly the same in design and size as the one
they'd found previously. Chloe whistled. No sooner had she
bagged the little button than she heard a strange noise.

It sounded like a match being lit. She slowly rose to
her feet and turned around, the evidence bag still clutched
in her hand.

"Find anything?" His voice was gruff and the cigarette
bobbed slightly as he formed the words.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked suspiciously. She noted his
gray overcoat and his salt and pepper colored hair. Her
gaze left him and spotted the car that was parked down the
street. She swallowed nervously and turned her attention
back to the strange man.

"That's not important right now," he answered and Chloe
narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Where's your partner?"

"Questions, questions. I'm not answering anything
until you tell me who the hell you are," Chloe said finally,
stepping back and putting some distance between herself and
the man. She instinctively drew her gun, pointing it at him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Agent Grant," the
man said as he blew cigarette smoke out his nose. It curled
in the air and disappeared leaving Chloe with a feeling of
dread in her stomach.

Out of nowhere, two more men appeared. Each wore dark
sunglasses and a dark overcoat, concealing their identities
slightly. Chloe bit her lip and tried to think of what to
do. Finally, she slowly lowered the gun and holstered it
again.

"Okay, let's talk," she said, putting her hands in the
air as she noticed that the two men that were on either side
of her, held some rather large handguns.

"That's it, Chloe, don't put up a fight. It'll be
easier on both of us," the man said and Chloe's body tensed
at the use of her first name. She was angry that she might
be in a situation of bad health and didn't have anyone who
could back her up. These thugs could shoot her now and no
one would know any different.

"How do you know my name?" Chloe asked, not really
expecting an answer.

"I know all about you, Ms. Grant," he replied, puffing
on the cigarette. It bobbed up and down as he spoke and
smoke billowed from it. Chloe tried to think if she'd ever
seen the man before but her mind was blank. "In fact, I know
all about your new friends, too. Mulder and Scully have been
acquaintances of mine for years and years now."

Chloe's eyebrows raised. She was suspicious but she
couldn't think of a way to safely get out of the situation so
she pried.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"I want the location of Mulder and Scully," he said,
smiling. He walked slowly toward her and frowned when he
noticed that she tensed again. It was almost as though she
were bracing for a fight or something. "I won't hurt you if
you give me their location," he added.

"And if I don't?"

"I'm in a position to accidentally dispose of you," his
answer was to the point and it hit home. Chloe knew this
man did not intend to just say "hi" to Scully and Mulder when
he found them. She was torn.

"What makes you think I know where they are?"

"I'm fairly certain," he said and a smirk replaced the
tight-lipped smile. "Besides, I have less humane ways of
finding out, Mr. Gregg, show her," he said and Chloe turned
her attention to one of the men as he drew a long syringe out
of his pocket, filled with a light blue liquid.

"Oh shit," Chloe whispered. She had already decided to
tell him but she felt miserable about it. She still had no
guarantee that they wouldn't kill her anyway, but her self
preservation was overriding anything else. Besides, at least
she might be able to get to Mulder or Scully if she told them
and they let her live.

"Well? Shall we do this the easy way or the difficult
way?" he asked, growing impatient.

"What do I get out of this deal?"

"A chance to live," he said and his man moved in. He
grabbed Chloe's arm and she gasped, staring coldly at the man
holding her arm. He held the syringe just above her upper
arm, ready to push it right through her shirt and into her
arm. It would be painful.

"Alright, get him off me!" she cried, struggling to
free her arm. "I'll talk! Just get this asshole away from
me!"

"Okay, let her go."

The man let her arm go and backed off. Chloe wasn't
sure she was ready to give in so easily now. Her initial
fear was gone, replaced by and anger so strong that it pushed
her adrenaline level a few notches higher.

Unsuspected by any of the three men, Chloe allowed her
self defense courses to kick in. She dropped the button and
grabbed the man who held the syringe and yanked him towards
her, knocking the syringe away as she did so. She twisted his
arm behind his back and brought him between herself and the
other man who hadn't reacted fast enough with his gun.

The cigarette smoking man was shaking his head. "Not a
good idea, Chloe," he said.

"I just want some assurance that I'll be able to walk
away from this," she said calmly, her breath thinning out a
bit. She twisted the man's arm a little harder and he
grunted in pain.

"I already told you we trade Mulder and Scully's
whereabouts for your well being," he said, his voice growing
angered as he spoke.

Chloe had backed herself between a rock and a hard
place now. She had no way to escape, even with the hostage.
Surely the smoking man would just kill his own man if it
meant killing her. She swallowed with difficulty.

"I don't believe you," she said for lack of anything
else.

"You have no choice," the man said and Chloe knew he
was right. She would not get out alive now. Perhaps she
should have left well enough alone. She released the other
man's arm and put her hands in the air. She was surprised
her hadn't asked for her gun yet, but as if he had read her
thoughts he demanded that she slowly throw it to the ground.

Slowly and deliberately, she complied.

"I have to admit, Agent Grant, that was impressive,"
he said. He was smiling again, now that he was back in
control. "But you gave up too easily."

Chloe didn't speak. She just glared at him and pursed
her lips which flattened into a white line as anger swelled
inside her. Defeated, again.

"I'm sick of games, I want a location," he said.

"Chicago," she whispered. "They've gone to Chicago."

"Good girl," he said and snapped his fingers. To her
surprise, both men began to retreat. The smoking one nodded
and held her gun up so she could see it.

She watched them bitterly as they headed back to their
car. She saw the man drop her gun on the ground outside the
sedan and get in. They sped away leaving her to kick
herself. She felt as though she should have done more but
knew that she couldn't have. At least now she'd have a
chance to warn Mulder, Scully and Mickey.

She felt her knees go weak and she remembered the
button she had found. Looking around for the evidence bag she
had dropped, she couldn't see it anywhere. She did see the
syringe, however. She slowly walked toward it and picked it
up.

She pressed the plunger, squeezing a bit of the blue
liquid into her palm. She brought her hand to her nose so
that she could smell it. It had no odor. She frowned and
tasted it. Colored sugar water.

"Fuck!" she screamed, hurling the syringe as far away
from her as she could.

*****

Chicago International Airport
Chicago, IL

Michael Callavelo smiled down at the little girl who
clung to his hand as if it were the last thing in the world.
Sam was wearing a huge grin and laughing uncontrollably as
Mickey tried to shake her loose.

"Come on, Sam, you're cutting off my circulation,"
Mickey said with a smile. He watched as Scully and Mulder
stood a little distance away, looks of curiosity and
amusement on their faces. They obviously were content to let
Sam try to yank his arm off.

People bustled around them, toting luggage, children
and various other things that were associated with travel.
Mickey sighed deeply and decided to tug Sam along with him to
where Scully and Mulder stood watching. He still had yet to
explain his unexpected arrival on the plane. Not to mention
that he wanted some answers from the two agents.
"So," he said as he stopped before them, breathing
heavily from the effort of dragging Sam along with him.
"What's up with you two anyway?"

"Meaning?" Mulder asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Meaning, why did you two take off with Sam? Just what
are you trying to pull?" he demanded, his voice calm and
even. His anger had long since dissipated. Mulder looked at
Scully, who in turn flashed a smile at Mickey.

"Mickey, there are some things that you and Chloe have
yet to learn about," Scully began. She took a deep breath
and moved forward to grasp his shoulder. "Now is not the
time or place to explain. Let's get Sam to a hotel and feed
her, then Mulder and I will try to help you to understand
what's going on."

"Fine, but we're not letting this go," Mickey said,
his eyes narrowing.

"No, we're not. You still owe us an explanation as to
why you followed us. Not to mention the fact that Chloe
isn't with you," Mulder said, and held his hand out for Sam
without taking his eyes off Mickey.

Sam immediately made a bee line for Mulder, leaving
Mickey to flex his fingers to get the blood circulating
again. Scully moved her hand down from his shoulder to his
forearm and gently tugged him away from Mulder.

"Where is Chloe?" she questioned in a hushed tone.

"She's back in Orangeburg," Mickey said and frowned.
"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm not sure yet. I just don't have a good feeling
about this. You shouldn't have left her there," Scully said
and looked back at Mulder who was finally engrossed in
tickling Sam.
"I made her stay, we do have a case to investigate, you
know."

"Look, Mickey, I want you to call her and make sure
she's alright, okay?" Scully said, her tone worried.

"I was going to anyway, thanks for reminding me."

Scully nodded and her eyes held a worried glaze.
Mickey knew he was missing something yet again. Something
that might be vital. Before he could question her further,
Scully had walked away.

He stared after her for a few moments, then pulled out
his cellular phone, quickly dialing his partner's number.

-----

End Part Eighteen

--

*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 Nineteen

-----

Orangeburg, SC
7:00pm

Chloe stood and stared at the road, trying to calm herself down.
As her training began to supersede her anger, she remembered the
syringe. Hastily, she ran over and picked it up gingerly and
deposited it in an evidence bag. At least she had something. It
was better than being totally empty handed. She started to search
the area for the button again when her cell phone trilled in her
pocket.

"Grant," she said after punching the phone to receive.

"Chloe, it's Mick. Where are you?" She sighed in relief.

"Standing in the middle of a burned out shell of a house, where
are you?" she returned.

"O'Hare International. I just made the plane."

"Then you found them," she asked excitedly.

"Oh, yeah, I found them. Of course, that doesn't mean I know
any more than I did when I hadn't found them," he grumbled.
"We're gonna find a place to stay and get Sam some dinner. Then,
these two are in for a good old fashioned 'grilling'--Chicago PD
style! My old man taught me a few tricks. . ."

"Mickey, wait! Don't go to a hotel. Oh, shit," Chloe said,
her mind working at warp speed.

"Why not?" Mickey interrupted, and Chloe could almost see the
frown chiseled on his forehead as he spoke. <This guy is gonna
*beg* for wire tap if he doesn't get used to these 'little surprises',>
she thought to herself.

"Mickey, I just had a visitor. . ."

"Chloe," he whined. "Don't tell me this. . ."

"Mick, get a grip! Now, listen to me. I was out here at the
Harris place. I found another one of those button things we found
at the car crash. Then, all of a sudden, this old guy was standing
next to me. I swear, I've never seen him before in my life. But he
had these two thugs with him. He *knew* me, Mick! He knew my
name. And he knows Mulder and Dana. Said he was 'old
acquaintences' with them or something lame like that."

"So? Maybe he's with the local field office," Mickey suggested,
still wondering what had his usually calm partner so rattled. At
least she had always seemed calm, so far. . .

"Mickey, LISTEN TO ME! This guy was NOT FBI! He was, I
don't know, he seemed. . .this is gonna sound nuts. Mickey, I just
didn't like this guy. He seemed evil or something. . ." she let out
a frustrated puff of breath.

"*Evil*? Chloe, don't go getting metaphysical on me," Mickey
moaned into the phone. By this time Mulder had noticed the
concerned expression on Mickey's face and had come over. "Is there
a problem?" he asked quietly.

Mickey put his hand over the phone. "Yeah, I got stuck with a
woman partner," he hissed in a whisper, then turned back to the
phone. "Chloe, did this guy give you a name?"

Mulder's eyes went wide. "What 'guy', Callavelo?" he demanded.

Mickey looked up at the older agent and shrugged. "Some guy
Chloe met. Old dude, had two 'thugs' with him. Chloe's scared, for
some reason. . ."

"Was he smoking a cigarette?" Mulder asked excitedly.

Mickey looked at Mulder in confusion. "Hey, Chloe, Mulder
want's to know if this guy was smoking?" He waited for the answer
then nodded 'yes' to Mulder.

"Damn it!" Mulder cried angrily. "Give me the phone." He took
the phone out of Mickey's hand. "Grant, tell me everything that
happened. Don't leave out a thing, hear me?"

Dana and Sam were coming back from a newsstand area when
they saw Mulder and Mickey. From the grim expression on
Mulder's face, Dana knew immediately there was trouble. "Sammi,
sweetheart, you read your magazine for a minute, I need to talk to
Fox," she said calmly, handing Sammi her 'American Girl' magazine.
Sam nodded and found a seat in the nearby boarding area.

Dana met the two men a few feet away. "Now what?"

"I knew this would happen," Mulder hissed. "Look, apparently
our 'smoking friend' is interested in our whereabouts," he said,
trying to keep his voice down so that Samantha would not become
alarmed.

"Oh, no," Dana moaned.

"Yes, and our good friend Agent Grant told him we were in
Chicago," he added angrily. Seeing Dana's disbelief, he quickly
added, "I didn't mean that as it sounded. It wasn't really Chloe's
fault. He had *associates* with him, three against one are not
favorable odds. But he knows we're here. So we have to leave."

"And go where?" Dana demanded. "Mulder, we have an 8 year
old little girl with us! We can't go running off all over the
country. Now, let's think a minute. . ."

"We don't HAVE a minute," Mulder exclaimed. "I knew this
would only get complicated. . ."

"Wait a minute," Mickey intervened. "Look, if it's a safe
place you want, I know just where to find it. This is MY city,
remember," he added with upraised brows. "Trust me," he said
when they hadn't answered immediately.

The two older agents regarded each other. Finally, Mulder's
glare was replaced with a slightly lopsided halfhearted attempt at a
grin. "Sure, fine, whatever," he said to Scully, who promptly
cuffed him in the shoulder.

"Let me get Sam. Mickey, lead the way," she said.

Loyola University, Lakeshore Campus
Sheridan Road
Chicago, Illinois

The taxi pulled up to a yellow sandstone building that had all
the looks of being abandoned. Mickey tossed the driver a twenty
and smiled. "You never saw us, right?"

"Saw who?" the driver replied with a heavy accent. "No se
hable," he added with a grin.

Mickey led the trio up to the steps of the building. "I, uh,
well, I told them you were a family. It just made it easier to explain,
okay?" he said sheeplishly to Mulder. Mulder looked over to Dana,
who shrugged her shoulders.

"That works," Mulder whispered. The door to the building
opened before Mickey had a chance to knock.

A small elderly man, somewhere between 60 and 80, with
graying hair fringing a bald dome, immediately took Mickey in a
bear hug. "Michael! It's so good to see you, lad," the old man said
as he pulled back. "So, the big FBI agent comes home, huh? Well,
come on in."

"Thanks, Father Dan. It's good to see you again, too," he
smiled with affection. "Father Dan Daly, this is Fox and Dana
Mulder and Samantha. They're the ones I told you about on the
phone." They shook hands.

"Anything to help the government," Father Dan smiled and
Mulder shot Mickey a confused look.

"Now, Dan, remember. Mum's the word. We take the Witness
Protection Program very seriously," Mickey said, more for Mulder's
benefit than the old priest.

"Yes, yes, of course. Just like the old days, providing
sanctuary. Anyway, I had Mrs. Mulligan come in and tidy up a bit,
clean sheets, fresh towels. We still use it for retreats. The
University is talking about putting offices in this building, but the
rehab might be too costly. Besides, I always hold out hope that we'll
be needing it someday. Maybe you'll change your mind again, hey,
Michael? You know you'd make a better priest than a cop," the old
priest smiled.

Mickey gave him an indulgent smile. "Don't hold your breath,
Dan. But thanks for going to all this trouble. I owe you a big one."

Father Daly handed him the keys. "Well, I better get going.
I'm doing penance service at St. Gert's up the street. Father Heeley's
in the hospital again. If you have the time you might stop in. St.
Joseph's, you know, just up the road." He smiled when Mickey
nodded in compliance. "Oh, there's food in the pantry, if you're
hungry. Please make yourselves at home." He reached out and
touched Sam on the head. "Good night to you, Miss Mulder. I bet
you're tired after your long trip." Sam nodded and yawned. "God
bless you," he added to Dana and Mulder and left.

"Witness Protection Program?" Mulder asked after he was sure
that Father Daly was gone.

"Hey, I had to think fast. Besides, Jesuits know all about
sanctuary. You're safer here than anywhere on Earth. It's not
exactly the Ritz Carlton, but it's clean and well protected.
No TV, though. Sorry, it used to be part of the Seminary, until
everything was moved to Detroit. There used to be a great library,
though, on the second floor." He picked up their meager luggage
and started up the stairs.

At the first landing, Sam started to wilt. Mulder reached over
and scooped the little girl into his arms, carrying her up the next
two flights. Mickey opened the first door in the hallway and ushered
them in.

The rooms are commonly known as cells and for good reason.
White walls were adored with only a single plain wooden cruxifix.
One small window looked out over Lake Michigan, and was
darkening quickly with the setting sun. The single bed was against
one wall with a nightstand and small lamp beside it. A small dresser
stood opposite.

"The bathroom is at the end of the hall," Mickey whispered as
Mulder laid Sam down on the bed and Dana pulled the covers up
over the sleeping child. Without thinking, Dana brushed the hair
off her forehead and gave the little girl a kiss. When she stood up,
she saw her partner's eyes shining at her through unshed tears. She
reached over and squeezed his hand. The gesture wasn't lost on
Mickey and he cleared his throat.

"You two are right next door." He led the way and opened
another cell. This time, two mattresses had been hastily laid out
on the floor. Towels were laid on the dresser. "Good, Mrs.
Mulligan fixed it up," Mickey said, his eyes refusing to meet the
other two agents. "You two are here, I'm just across the hall. Well,
down a ways. These walls are pretty thick. Can't hear much," he
rambled, self consciously.

"Thank you, Mickey," Dana said with a kind smile. "It will do
nicely."

He smiled back at her. "Good. Well, I'll be turning in. Oh,
if you get hungry, the kitchen's on the first floor. Just off the
stairs to the right. It's usually well stocked. I'll see you in the
morning," he said and quickly exited, closing the door behind him.

"He knows about us," Mulder said flatly.

"I'd worry about our recruiting standards if he hadn't figured
it out by now," Dana replied and started to pull off her coat. "Do
you think it's safe?"

"Hey, you're the Catholic. I know nothing of the Jesuits. But
I don't think we have anything to worry about tonight. I'm not
planning on sleeping much, if that's what you mean." He took off
his coat and jacket and sat on the floor, his back against the wall.

Dana stood above him, watching him. "You're mad, aren't you?"
she asked evenly, trying not to turn this into a fight.

He looked up at her, silent. Then he dropped his gaze. "I'm
not mad at you. I'm glad you're here. I couldn't live without you. I
realized that about 5 minutes out of Orangeburg. But dammit,
Dana, it just makes it so complicated. I think we're better off
just leaving the country, getting the hell away from here, from
them."

She walked over and sat down in front of him on the floor.
"Well, I'm glad you aren't mad, Mulder. Because I'm mad enough
for both of us!" His head popped up and he stared, shocked, into
her icy blue eyes. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"
she demanded, keeping her voice to a low hiss. "I can't believe you,
Mulder. I figured once you found Sam all these 'little road trips'
would stop. But no, you decide to run off without me, *again*, and
I have to play Columbo to find you! Well, I'm sick of it! And if
you think you're gonna pull stunts like this after the wedding. . ."

He put his hand on her shoulder, which was shaking. "What did
you just say?" he asked quietly, not really trusting either his
voice or her answer.

"I *said* that if you pull a stunt like this *after* the wedding,"
she seethed. His raised hand cut off her tirade.

"That's what I thought you said. Then you're really going to
marry me?" he asked, sheepishly.

Her face softened. "Yes, Fox, I'm going to marry you.
Somebody has to, you need a keeper! And I'm already trained in the
job. But we are going to get a few things straight. You are NOT
running off without me. Ever. Is that understood?" She smiled as
he nodded meekly. "And you have to realize that just because I
don't jump every time you snap your fingers does not mean I reject
*you*! If you didn't want to marry a skeptic, you shouldn't have
asked me in the first place." That comment merited a brief smile.
"And I don't want to leave the country. It's no way to grow up.
You don't really want to do that to Sam, or to *our* children, either,
now do you?" He was still for a moment, the slowly shook his head
no.

"But I can't lose her again, Scully," he moaned.

"Neither can I. And we won't. We just need a plan, Mulder,"
she said. "We're smarter than they are. We can do this. I may not
blindly believe in all your theories, but I *do* believe in _us_!"

"I knew there was a reason I loved you," he murmured and pulled
her into his arms.

-----

End Part Nineteen
--

*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 Twenty

-----

Orangburg, South Carolina

Chloe Grant scanned the ground for the button again, but it
was gone. It should have stood out because of the evidence bag.
Cancer Man, as Mulder had called him, must've taken it. Chloe was
surprised to learn that she'd just waltzed her way out of a situation
with a *very* powerful man. Mulder hadn't mentioned much about
the man, however, Chloe could just tell from the tone of Mulder's
voice.

Her shoulders drooped with defeat and her stomach felt
extremely empty. She hadn't eaten much food in the last couple of
days and she was beginning to feel the effects. She put her
sunglasses back on and slowly walked to where they had dropped
her gun. Retrieving it, she sighed and returned to her rented sedan,
getting in and locking all the doors.

"Since when have you become so paranoid?" she asked
herself. She immediately pushed that thought out of her head,
unwilling to admit that she was scared of the men she'd just had a
close encounter with.

<Now what?> she thought, pushing a hand through her hair.
She hated being alone now more than ever. She should have made
Mickey let her go with him. She decided that she would have to go
and get a quick lunch and maybe figure out some things from there.

Suddenly, a knock on the window startled her. Chloe
jumped and immediately grabbed her gun. She pointed it at the
window and saw the reaction of the person there. He immediately
stepped back and drew his own gun.

"Shit," Chloe mumbled, lowering her own weapon and
slowly opening the window.

"Hands where I kin see them!" the Police Officer yelled.
Chloe couldn't help it-- she laughed. "HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!
NOW!"

"I'm sorry, Officer," Chloe said. "You startled me."
She held up her badge and gave him a weak smile.

"What'n the hell are ya doing here?" he asked, slowly
returning his gun to its holster.

"I'm here investigating the murders of those children," Chloe
explained, slowly opening door of the sedan so she could get out.

"Well, uh, I'm sorry to bother you, but you're parked in a no
parking zone," he said, pointing at the fire hydrant that was hidden
behind her car.

Chloe followed his finger with her eyes and nodded. It was a
moment before she turned back to him and said, "I'm sorry, officer.
I'll move right now."

"You sure gave me a heart attack," he said.

"Sorry. I was lost in thought and I just haven't been having
the best day. Did you want to add to it and slap me with a ticket?"
she asked, joking slightly. She needed something to lighten her
mood but she was just too tired and worried to give her words the
humor they required.

"Uh, no. I think, judgin' by the looks o' you, that you been
through enough," he said and Chloe remembered the bruises and
cuts and broken finger that the car accident had left. She blushed
and shrugged.

"I wonder if you could tell me something, though?" Chloe
asked and the officer's eyebrow raised slightly.

"Yeah?"

Chloe reached into the car and pulled out the missing
children's report. She had already cross referenced some of the
names and found similarities between those children that had shown
up in Orangeburg. She glanced quickly at the names. She frowned
and said, "Could you tell me where Joanne Jenkins lives?"

"Joanne Jenkins? Yeah, she'd be the little'un that moved here
just a few weeks ago. She's living with Mark and Dee Marling,
down on Jardin street. Does that help ya?" he asked, smiling.

Chloe nodded and thanked him. She apologized again for
scaring him and climbed into her car. He waited until she had driven
away before he returned to his car and sped away himself.

-----

Marling Residence
Jardin Street

The doorbell rang for the sixth time and Mark Marling
decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He patted his wife on the
shoulder and handed her another tissue.

"Honey, I've got to get that," he said, giving her a sorrowful
glance. She nodded and continued to sniffle and wipe away her
tears. Before he left he squeezed her hand and said, "It'll be
alright."

The person stopped ringing the doorbell and resorted to
banging on the door. Mark felt his temper growing short and he
swallowed hard before he glanced out the window. There was a tall
blond woman standing outside the door. Her azure blue eyes
immediately snapped up and locked with his as he appeared in the
window. Before he knew it, there was an FBI badge plastered
to the window so that he could clearly make out her name: Chloe
Grant.

Mark immediately drew a curtain over his emotions, forcing
his face to be a mask of stone. He opened the door and stepped
back so that he could clearly observe of the woman.

She looked miserable, tired and very sore. Her face had a
few fading bruises he noted, remembering that there had been two
FBI agents in a car accident earlier that week. He noticed, as she
put her badge in the pocket of her coat, that her baby finger was
splinted and bandaged. He frowned then, swallowing with difficulty.

"Hello, Mr. Marling? I'm Chloe Grant from the FBI," she
said, a weak smile on her face. "Sir, I'd like to ask you a few
questions about Joanne Jenkins."

He felt his heart sink as he nodded. He bit his bottom lip
and, struggle as he might, he couldn't keep a straight face any longer.
He allowed the emotion to rush back and he knew his face suddenly
changed from that of a hard, glaring man to a broken and pained
one.

"Sir?" she asked, prompted by the change in his demeanor.

"I'm sorry, won't you come in?" he said absently, stepping
aside.

"Thank you," she said as she stepped gracefully through the
door. She stood off to the side, a little agitatedly. She glanced
toward the road where she had parked her car and her eyes darted
back and forth, taking in the interior of the house.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, hoping that his wife
wouldn't realize that the FBI was here and rehash a fresh bout of
tears.

"Sir, is there any possibility I could speak with Joanne?"
Chloe asked. He found himself allowing his shoulders to hunch
forward. No sense denying it.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he said so quietly that he
was afraid she wouldn't hear.

"Sir?" she probed, her eyes narrowing.

"Ms. Grant, let me explain something to you--"

"Mark, who is it..." his wife appeared around the corner and
her voice trailed off when she saw the tall woman. "Oh, hello," she
said then fell silent.

"Honey, this is Chloe Grant. She's with the FBI," he
explained and his wife's red eyes widened. The puffiness of them
immediately gave Chloe a clue that something was wrong.

"Oh."

"Hello, ma'am," Chloe said, inclining her head toward the
woman.

"Dee, I'd like to talk to Agent Grant for a few minutes. I'll
be back in, OK?" he said. His wife didn't say a word but simply
nodded. He smiled faintly and took hold of Chloe's arm, pulling her
out of the house. "I'm sorry about that, Ms. Grant," he said.

"It's all right. Now, what were you saying?" Chloe asked
and he nodded sadly.

"I was just about to explain something to you," he paused
and drew a deep breath. "Joanne Jenkins was adopted and removed
from our foster care earlier this morning. My wife is extremely
upset about it because we loved little Joanne like our own daughter,
even though she's only been here for a few weeks."

He watched as the agent's face immediately blanched. She
pursed her lips and looked as though she wanted to punch the
nearest thing and break the rest of her hand. She bit her lip in
thought and soon the color returned to her cheeks but it was the
ugly shade of anger.

"Agent Grant?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry to hear that. I think you've just
answered all my questions with that one explanation. Thank you,"
she said. She stuck out her hand dutifully.

He grasped it, puzzled by her reaction. Her handshake was
firm and admirable. Mark Marling frowned and said, "Is something
wrong?"

"Uhm, no. Thanks again for your time," she said and before
he knew it, she had dug a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket,
slipped them on her nose and begun to walk toward her car.

He never did figure out why she was wearing sunglasses
when it was nearly dark.

-----

September 5, 1995
Chicago, Illinois
7:00 am

Mickey Callavelo heard the light knock on his door, just as
he was about to try to knot his tie. He was going to have to make
due do with same suit he'd worn the day before and he didn't feel
very clean or comfortable despite the shower he'd had.

The knock came again and Mickey shrugged, abandoning his
tie on the bed. He yanked the door open and had to look down at
the little girl that stood there. He smiled.

"Sammi, good morning," he said. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Good morning, Mickey. Fox and Dana aren't awake yet and
I thought maybe you'd like to eat breakfast with me," she said,
immediately reaching for his hand. He laughed as she grasped it
with all her might.

"Sure, I'd love to... Do you cook?" he asked, grinning. He
hadn't expected the positive answer she gave.

"Yep! Bacon and eggs and French toast and omelets and...
Well," she giggled. "You get the idea."

"At your age?" Mickey asked, incredulously.

"Yes, sir!" Sam answered, her hand raising to her temple to
salute him. "I love cooking, but I usually wasn't allowed until
someone was watching me."

"That's amazing, kiddo," Mickey said. "Well, let me show
you to the kitchen, my little wonder." He smiled down to her and
led her to the kitchen.

Inside the large room, large because it had once been used to
feed a lot of people, Mickey discovered that Samantha really was a
wonder for her age. She walked around the kitchen slowly getting
to know where everything was. She inspected the fridge and pulled
out some milk, eggs and margarine. She smiled radiantly when she
turned toward him.

"Care to place your order, sir?" she asked using a childish
imitation of a restaurant waiter, a French accent slurring the words.
He was about to answer when he heard a rustling at the
door. He almost laughed when he saw a very tired looking Dana
Scully appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She smiled as she
became aware of his intense gaze.

"Good morning," she said, sheepishly.

"Mornin'," Mickey answered and turned back to Sam. He
didn't feel like figuring out why Scully looked like she hadn't slept a
wink. "Sammi was about to make me breakfast," he said and
Samantha nodded vigorously.

"Dana, can I get something for you too?" Sam asked and
Scully shook her head.

"Honey, I'll make us breakfast." She shot Mickey a look of
mock horror. "Mickey shouldn't have asked you to make breakfast,"
Scully said and smiled. Sam was quick to jump to his defense.

"He didn't ask! I offered," she said proudly.

Scully backed off and held up both hands in defense. "My
mistake!" she cried, laughing. She yawned and dropped herself into
a chair at the same table where Mickey, too, had recently sat.

A new shadow crossed the floor and Sam giggled as Fox
Mulder entered the kitchen, his hair standing on end.

"What?" he asked, throwing up his arms.

"Your hair, Fox! Your hair!" Sam cried as she ran to him,
throwing her arms around his waist.

"Good morning to you too, Sammi," Mulder said as he
ruffled her hair so that it resembled his own. She giggled and
returned to the counter where she had set out the food articles.

"OK, what're we having?" Sam asked, assuming authority

over the breakfast scene again.

"Toast and OJ sounds good to me," Scully said, leaning
back in her chair and smiling at Mulder, who winked from where he
now stood behind Mickey.

"One order of toast. Anyone else for toast?"

"Two," Mulder said.

"Make it three," Mickey added, shrugging. "Might as well
go simple."

"Anything else?"

No one said anything and Sam frowned. She returned the
eggs to the refrigerator and busied herself with toasting the bread
that she had found in a bread box at the other end of the kitchen.

Scully got up to offer to help Sam, but the little girl was
determined to make the adults breakfast on her own. She shooed
the older woman away and giggled when Mulder said she was just as
stubborn as he remembered.

For her, it didn't have the same meaning as it did for him.
Mulder bit back the tears that threatened to slide down his face and
smiled when Scully caught and held his gaze.

Sam produced some slightly burnt pieces of toast with a
slight pout but when everyone said it was magnificent and delicious,
she held her head up high and explained that someday she'd make an
excellent chef. No one complained. They ate in relative silence,
Mulder and Scully contemplating what their next step would be and
Mickey worrying endlessly about his partner.

-----

Orangeburg, South Carolina
Rest Inn
6:15 am

Chloe Grant jerked awake, covered in sweat and breathing
heavily. She'd been plagued by men in black trench coats who
seemed to appear around ever corner she turned in her dream.

She wiped vigorously at her brow, refusing to succumb to
the darkness that threatened to cover her heart and make her day
miserable. She hadn't eaten anything the night before, despite her
better judgment.

She'd lost her appetite after discovering that all of the foster
children in Orangeburg had been adopted and transferred out of the
small town within a few hours. She couldn't believe the speed at
which they had removed the evidence of wrongdoing from the place.

-----

Orangeburg Police Station
9:30 am

After some quick calls to the South Carolina Department of
Social Services, Chloe had another piece of the puzzle.
Unfortunately, the puzzle was becoming harder to put together with
each new piece. The woman in charge of the foster program had no
information on who had adopted all of the remaining foster children.
Apparently, the adoptions were with a private agency, but when
Chloe called the number, it was disconnected. She slammed the
phone down angrily.

"Honey chile, when was the last time you et sumptin," a gentle
voice drawled from the doorway. It was Chief Russell's Aunt Rosy,
looking at Chloe with a grandmother's concern.

Chloe smiled wryly. "It's been a while," she admitted.

"Then you git yourself across that street and git some
breakfast!" Aunt Rosy demanded. "Lars a mercy, you think you kin
keep going on an empty stomach? Must be a city girl, that's all I kin
say. City girls, with those skin tight underdrawers, always trying to
git skinnier and skinner till you cain't see 'em when they stand
sideways. Ain't no man wanting to hug no skin an' bones, honey.
That nice lookin' fella you were with, that I-talian boy, he gonna
want some 'meat' to cuddle with! Now, GIT! Tell Sally you want
the 'blue plate', and that Aunt Rosy said to not spare the butter on
the toast, either," she added with a wink.

Chloe had to bite back a laugh at the thought of Mickey
and 'cuddling', but at that moment her stomach growled loudly, so
she decided to take Aunt Rosy up on her advice. With a returning
wink, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

She was a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what was
going on, and better yet, how she was going to tell Mickey that
every single child had now disappeared into thin air, when she
glanced down the alley, next to the diner. The cook and a
dishwasher were standing outside the back door of the
establishment, smoking. That wasn't so unusal, but what caught
Chloe's eye was the coat the dishwasher was wearing. She
recognized it as a Navy pea coat, the kind worn on ships at sea and
sold in military surplus stores. The buttons on the coat were
different than others she had seen. Her father had owned a pea coat,
and the buttons were flat pieces of plastic with an anchor imprinted
on them. The buttons on this man's coat were raised and had gold
on them. Just like. . .

<Ohmigod, just like the evidence!> Chloe almost screamed out
loud when she realized what she was seeing.

As Chloe made the connection in her mind, the dishwasher
looked up. Their eyes met across the15 or so yards that separated
them. Then the dishwasher's eyes grew wide and he shoved the
cook in front of him and took off down the alley in the opposite
direction from the street. Chloe was quick to follow in pursuit.

"Federal Agent! Stop where you are!" Chloe yelled after the
man, but that just seemed to spur him to greater speeds. He turned
the corner at the end of the alley and headed down the intersecting
street. They were now in the 'industrial park', so named because of
the recently built one story metal warehouses and 'self storage'
units in the area. The dishwasher ducked between two of the
buildings, with Chloe hot on his trail.

Chloe skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. The dishwasher had
disappeared, or so it seemed. Using every ounce of strength, she
willed herself into silence. It was like the training grounds at
Quantico all over again. She was good at this, she had the training
and the talent. She was not going to let this guy get away. Slowly,
she searched the ground. Not many footsteps, it was a dirt and
gravel area. Off to her left, she could just pick up a faint trail, the
balls of the foot coming down much harder than the heel, the kind of
tracks someone made when running. She smiled to herself and
quietly moved in that direction.

At the edge of the building she was walking beside, she came up
short. There was no sense in letting herself be ambushed. She
flattened up against the building and slid toward the corner, her
gun drawn, safety off. The man she was pursuing had very probably
killed several children, six they knew of. This was no time to take
unnecessary chances.

In a flash, she popped from around the building, in a shooter's
stance. Nothing. The alley between the two storage units was about
fifteen feet wide, the buildings about 100 feet long. There were
three dumpsters littering the way. <Plenty big enough to hide in,>
Chloe mused and started slowly down the alley. She approached the
first dumpster and took a deep breath, throwing off the lid and
pointing the gun barrel into the interior. Empty, save for a few
small bags of shredded paper. She swallowed and allowed herself to
breathe again. <One down, two to go,> she reminded herself.

As she approached the second dumpster, she heard a scraping
sound behind her. She twisted to the side, just avoiding the metal
pipe the dishwasher swung at her head. Struggling to keep her
balance, she kicked out, hitting his arm with her foot. He tried to
grab it, but she was faster. Still she had not been able to
dislodge the pipe from his grip. He swung again and this time made
contact with her right thigh. She dropped to the ground with the
impact. The dishwasher didn't waste anytime and quick as a wink
had the pipe raised above him, ready to strike right at her head.
Chloe brought her gun up and fired.

It was point blank range and she was positive that she could
not have missed. Still the dishwasher made good on his follow
through. It was only her own quick move to the right that caused
the pipe to hit her left shoulder, just missing her head. She heard the
pipe hit her collarbone with a sickening crack. Again she fired and
this time she didn't stop until she had spent all the bullets. The
impact sent the dishwasher back five feet and finally he collapsed on
the ground.

Chloe laid back on the ground, flat on her back, and sobbed.

Loyola University
Lakeshore Campus
Sheridan Road,
Chicago
10:35 am

"That was great, kiddo," Mickey complimented Samantha again.
"You are gonna make somebody a great little wife," he added and
then looked over to see Dana's scowl.

"OR. . .you might just make great toast for yourself," she said
in a defiant tone, giving Mickey a stern dressing down with her eyes.

". . .or that," he said meekly. He glanced at his watch. "I
think I'll go see if Chloe has come up with anything," he muttered
and hastily beat a retreat from the room. Dana had the good
manners to wait until he was out of earshot to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Mulder asked, carrying an armload of books
from the library.

"Mickey," Sam said cheerfully and giggled all the more at the
confused look her brother had on his face.

"No, sweetie, I'd say it was 'men in general' that are so funny,"
Dana whispered conspiratorially to the little girl. She was rewarded
with an nod and a hug. Dana returned the hug, then looked over to
her partner.

"What did you find?" she asked. He had taken off for the
library just after breakfast and she hadn't seen him since. If he
hadn't
shown up, she was going to go looking for him.

"Oh, not much. Just this and that. For a seminary library,
they have some pretty eclectic tastes," he told her.

This didn't seem to surprise her. "They're Jesuits. Eclectic
is their middle name," she replied. "But what did you hope to
find?"

"Oh, some history books, a couple of atlases. . ." he let his
voice trail off as he searched the room to see where Samantha was.
He saw her in a corner of the sitting room, reading her magazine
from the flight. "A book on abductions. . ." he added in a whisper.

"You mean one that you haven't either read, edited or acted as
a technical advisor on?" she retorted with a scowl. He merely rolled
his eyes at her.

"I want to lay out a plan. First, we can't stay here forever.
Especially if Cancer Man is after us. Second, Sam has no memory of
her abduction and not a lot of memories of our childhood. I get the
feeling she thinks she's only been gone a little while. She has no
idea that she's been missing for 25 years and that she should be over
30 years old by now. We're going to have to help her face that." He
sighed and leaned back into the big overstuffed chair he was sitting
on. "And I have to figure out what, if anything, I'm going to say
to Mom."

"Fox, I know this isn't what you want to hear, but the
possibility of a clone. . ." Dana said quietly. She didn't look at him
directly, afraid of what she might see.

He surprised her. "I've thought of that, too. But I rejected
it as a theory. I think whoever took these kids, Sam included, in
the first place, finally brought them home. And I think who ever in
our government had knowledge of these abductions figured out that
these kids were a liability that they couldn't afford. I'm sure she's
Sam, Scully. It feels different than last time. This time, it just
feels
real."

Dana reached over and took his hand. "Then I hope you're
right," she said softly and leaned over to give him a kiss.

The kiss would have ended much later if Mickey hadn't taken
that opportunity to burst into the room.

"I have to get back to South Carolina," he said breathlessly.
"Chloe's in the hospital."

"OK, Mickey, now slow down," Dana pleaded as the younger
agent paced in front of the window, watching for the airport taxi he
had called. "What, exactly, did Chief Russell say?"

"It was the dishwasher at the diner across from the police
station. The guy has been under our noses all the time and we never
saw it! Damn it all to hell!" he shouted, then made every effort to
calm himself. "I'm sorry, Dana. I'm just. . ."

Dana put a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it. What did
the Chief say, was Chloe shot, what happened?"

"Something about her leg and her shoulder. I really couldn't
get much out of him and apparently the doctors didn't want her
talking. Or maybe she couldn't talk, I don't know," he whined.
"Where the fucking hell is that damn cab!" he hissed and looked like
he was going to start punching out the old oak door.

"Agent Callavelo," came a stern male voice behind him. "Scully,
give us a moment," Mulder added to his partner. She nodded and
left the room.

"I shouldn't have left her. Damn it all, I shouldn't have left
her!" Mickey moaned and leaned against the door, almost allowing
himself to slide down its length. Mulder walked over to put both
hands on the younger man's shoulders.

"Mickey, you have to calm down," he said gently. "This isn't
going to get you there any faster. And it sure won't help Chloe
when you get there. Come here a minute." He motioned for Mickey
to sit down on one of the foyer chairs. For a split second, Mickey
looked ready to bolt. Then, with a dejected shrug, he obeyed.

"Is Chloe your first partner?" Mulder asked, his voice taking on a
softer edge.

"The first one that isn't 10 years my senior," Mickey admitted.
"And the first . . . well, she _is_ a woman," he added pointedly.

Mulder thought better of the smile he was about to reveal and
nodded seriously. "So I noticed," he agreed.

"I mean, I should have been there," Mickey wailed again. "Chief
Russell says she went after this bozo without any back up, just by
herself! Somebody reported hearing shots being fired and a squad
car showed up to find her and the perp. He's dead, by the way. She
was out of it and they called an ambulance. She could have gotten
*killed*, Mulder. How would you feel if. . ." he stopped before
finishing the thought. From the look in the other agent's eyes, he
knew _exactly_ how it felt. He swallowed and closed his eyes.
"Does it get _any_ easier?" he moaned.

Mulder sighed heavily. "No," he said, shaking his head. "As a
matter of fact, it only gets worse," he admitted. They both looked
up at the sound of the taxi's horn. "Just be there for her now.
Sometimes our jobs are to help pick up the pieces," Mulder said and
patted Mickey on the back as he hurried out the door.

In the doorway, out of sight, Dana wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Ain't it the truth," she muttered to herself.

-----

End Part Twenty

--

*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 Twenty-One

-----

Orangeburg, SC
5:15 pm

Someone had a firm grip on her hand. She stirred into
a state of semi-sleep and something triggered the memory. The
pipe. The gleaming metal pipe that seemed to loom in her
mind. She cringed and fought to remove her hand from the
steel grip. She thrashed around, pain searing her flesh.

"Chloe--" The voice drifted toward her, penetrating
through the horror she felt at the warm touch of whoever was
holding her down. "Chloe, wake up!"

She recognized the voice. She fought to get control of
herself and in the process she became fully awake. She
opened her eyes to see a familiar face looming before her.

"Mickey?" she whispered, her voice harsh and
untrusting.

"Chloe," he said and a brilliant smile crossed his
handsome face. She didn't think she'd been so glad to see
him in her entire life.

She glanced away from his welcome visage and discovered
the white washed walls of the room that surrounded her. She
licked her parched lips and shifted her position which only
brought more pain.

"Ugh!" she cried.

"Just lay still," Mickey said, pushing the matted hair
off her forehead. She winced and nodded.

"The dishwasher...?"

"Is dead," Mickey said. "You sure did a number on the
guy, Chloe."

"Dead? How many bullets?"

"The whole clip."

"The *whole* clip?" Chloe asked, her eyes widening.

Mickey nodded. Chloe bit her lip and tried to sit up.
The pain was severe but not unbearable and she was able to
make it to a sitting position.

"He got me," she whispered.

"Yes, he did," Mickey said.

"We're talking in circles," Chloe observed. "Got any
tea?"

"Ginseng," Mickey said, producing a single cup tea bag
from his pocket. "I knew you were going to ask for it."

Chloe smiled and accepted the packet. "Wait here, I'll
get some water for you," Mickey said, jumping out of his
chair and dashing out the door before she could object. A
few minutes later he reappeared with a white Styrofoam
cup filled with steaming water. He took the packet back and
dropped it into the cup, allowing it to soak.

"If I take you home, can I keep you as my personal
nurse?" Chloe asked. Mickey just cocked his head to the side
and laughed. "Okay, seriously now, the dishwasher was the
one."

"Yes, and you went after him by yourself. Which
reminds me, I'm supposed to be mad at you," Mickey said and
his eyes narrowed in mock anger. "Promise me you won't do
that again."

"Mickey--"

"Promise it, Chloe. If we're going to be partners,
you've got to promise me that."

"Michael, I..." she paused, searching for the words.

"I promise, Chloe, say it," Mickey said and this time
his voice held conviction.

"Okay, I promise," she said dejectedly.

"Good," Mickey grinned and sat back down in the chair
beside her bed.

"The doctor said your collar bone is broken and your leg is
fractured. That dishwasher really got you and you're going
to have a rough time recovering. This case is considered
closed--" Mickey would have continued but Chloe held up a
hand to silence him.

"Mick, the children... Something is going on, they've
all been adopted."

"It's not our problem now, Chloe. Let's just get our
asses back to Washington and get on with it," Mickey said,
shrugging his shoulders.

"Where are Mulder and Scully?"

"In Chicago," Mickey said, then thought for a moment.
"They've got Sam and are hiding at the University. I left
them there..."

"We have to go to Chicago," Chloe said.

"You, my friend, are going home to recoup.
Understand?"

"Michael--" Chloe began to argue.

"You can't walk, Chloe," he reminded her, knowing that
she was going to insist that he let her go to Chicago.
"Whatever mess they are in, they have to get out of it
themselves. I've left them with trusted friends and
whatever they do from there doesn't involve us..."

"You're an asshole," Chloe said but her smile allowed
him to hold firm in his belief that they were going to be
partners for a long time.

"Thank you," he said. "Does this mean you'll keep
me?"

"Oh boy, you're a keeper all right."

"Secure in that knowledge, I leave thee to sleep. Good
afternoon, fair lady," Mickey said and got up to leave.
Chloe reached up and grabbed his hand.

"Thanks for coming, Mick," she whispered.

"Hey, what are friends for?" Mickey said before he
flashed a smile and disappeared out the door.

Chloe took a small sip of the hot tea and leaned back
against the pillows. She did not like being immobilized and
was not impressed that she would be in no condition to do
anything for a while now. The cast that held her
shoulder in position was uncomfortable and a royal pain in
the ass.

"Jesus Christ," she sighed before setting the tea
aside and struggling into a more comfortable position.
Despite herself, she dropped off to sleep.

-----

Chicago, IL
Loyola University

Fox Mulder started the sedan that he and Scully had
rented for their stay in Chicago. They had already discussed
the situation and had decided that heading back to Washington
to talk to the Assistant Director of the FBI was their only
solution. He had helped them keep Cancer Man at bay before.
They already knew that Skinner would help them out, if he
could.

Mulder sighed and leaned his head back against the
headrest, closing his eyes. He was tired and he knew it
would be nice to get home. He needed to get a hold of some
people to have a few things taken care of. He had to get
a bigger apartment.

When he thought of the other thing he had to do, his
smile grew. A ring for Scully. A nice engagement ring. He
was so happy that he didn't even react when the door opened
and someone got in the car. He simply assumed it
was Scully.

"Fox Mulder, so nice that we should meet here of all
places," the cold and steely voice said. Suddenly Mulder's
nose was filled with the unmistakable stench of cigarette
smoke. His eyes snapped open and his smile faded, replaced
by a cold frown.

Mulder did not reply.

"I see you've found Samantha. She's special, you
know," Cancer Man was saying. Mulder tried to block it out
but couldn't.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, unafraid of the
consequences.

"All I want is for you to return the girl. She's not
your sister any more--" Cancer Man began but Mulder turned
angrily on him.

"Like hell she isn't!" he cried

"Mulder, take a look at her. She's nine years old,"
Cancer Man said and Mulder felt the blow. As usual the
older man was trying to make pain using words. This time,
Mulder decided, it would not work. He'd shoot the man
clean through the head before he let him wrap his withered
fingers around his heart this time.

"Shut up!" Mulder said, and reached for his gun. The
older man was too fast. Before Mulder knew it, words were
not the only weapon in the game any more. There was a fair
sized Smith and Wesson pointed at his temple.

Mulder swallowed, moving his hands slowly to the
steering wheel so that the bastard could see them.

"You'll return Samantha to me and I'll be on my way,"
the man said and Mulder could hear the pleasure in his words.

"How'd you find us?" Mulder asked, feeling the last
tendrils of his control shriveling away and tightening.

"Your friend Chloe Grant was very useful and from there
a fair bit of money came in handy, you know," Cancer Man
said. "Now, where's Sam?"

"I don't have her," Mulder lied.

"Don't play games, Mulder. Where the hell is the
girl?"

Mulder remained silent, infuriating the man.

-----

Dana Scully laughed as Sam struggled to hoist Mulder's
bag over her shoulder. The little girl had insisted on
carrying her big brother's stuff while Scully took hold of
all the smaller things. Scully thought Samantha
was probably just excited to be heading back to the airport
for another plane trip.

Scully watched the struggle for a few more minutes and
decided the suitcase was much to heavy for the nine year old
girl. She would fall down the stairs if Scully didn't stop
her soon.
"Sammi, let me carry those," Scully said but Sam
refused, shaking her head vigorously.

"No way, man," Sam said and in a defiant action she
started down the stairs. Scully winced but was surprised
when the child made it all the way down safely. She sighed
with relief and followed.

"Crazy kid," she whispered to herself and it was then
that she realized just what a hold this kid had on her heart,
it was surprising and somewhat frightful.

"Are you coming?" Sam asked as she noticed that Scully
had stopped walking halfway down the stairs.

Scully started and grinned. "Yeah, I'm coming. Geez.
Impatient," Scully said. She moved down the stairs and in no
time she was beside Sam at the front of the building. Mulder
should have had the car out front already, so Scully began to
walk in the direction of the parking lot. Mulder probably
locked the keys in the car or something stupid like that.

Samantha was a few steps behind her, but soon enough
she had caught up to Scully and passed her. Sam stopped dead
when she noticed something out of the ordinary. Fox Mulder
was sitting inside the car and there was another man there
too.

"Dana, who's Mulder talking to?" Sam asked, her eyes
widening. She sighed, noticing that Dana's face turn
absolutely white. As white as a sheet. The next thing she
heard was the most surprising. Dana Scully cursed. It was
a curse like none that Sam had ever heard before. She began
to blush, knowing that she probably shouldn't have heard such
words from Scully's mouth and probably wouldn't again.

"Sammi, I'm sorry," Scully said hurriedly, yanking the
girl, suitcase and all, back around the corner. "I want you
to go back inside the University. Wait inside until I come to
get you."

Sam began to lug the suitcase and Scully touched her
shoulder. "Forget the suitcase, just run."

It was the tone of Scully's voice that frightened Sam
the most. It was a scared tone, one which Sam had never heard
an adult use before. Just as she reached the steps of the
University, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see
Scully drawing her gun out of its holster.

Sam started to cry. The tears burned her eyes as she
ran up the remaining steps and into the University.

-----

Scully hadn't meant to express herself in such a
colorful manner in front of the young girl, but it was the
only way to get out the feelings she felt at seeing Cancer
Man in the car with Mulder. She wasn't sure what the
situation was and she didn't know what she should do. She
decided to wait for a few minutes and observe the situation.

She remained hiding around the corner. She didn't want
to alert Cancer Man to the fact that she was around, just in
case it should complicate things.

-----

"Alright, Mulder, we're getting out of the car,"
Cancer Man said, using a commanding voice.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Your lovely wife-to-be will be cleaning your brains
off the interior of the car just before I shoot her." The
reply was harsh and made Mulder cringe. He didn't question
how the despicable man knew that he and Scully were engaged
but he did question the direct threats. Did this asshole
think he could get away with it?

"Alright, let's go," Mulder said and slowly opened the
door. As he did so, he weighed his options. They were
pretty slim. He decided to play along and see what it earned
him. He knew Cancer Man wouldn't shoot him yet. He needed
the girl and wouldn't leave until he got her.

"Easy, Mulder. None of that funny stuff," the man
said and Mulder thought it was the dumbest thing he'd ever
heard. It was a line right out of the movies.

"Alright, I'm out, now what?" he asked.

The man slowly opened his door and quickly stepped out,
his aim only leaving Mulder for a few seconds as he
repositioned himself.

"We walk," Cancer Man said.

Mulder nodded and began his journey using slow
deliberate steps. The faster he walked, the closer he became
to losing Sam. He had no idea that Scully was waiting
around the corner.

-----

Scully's breath hitched in her throat as she watched
Mulder being directed towards the building. She didn't like
the feeling that was raising in her stomach and seating
itself in her heart. This time she didn't push it down.
It was better to let the fear and anger mingle because she
was determined in her plan.

She could hear the shuffling of Mulder's slow and
deliberate footsteps, her hearing heightened by the blood
rushing through her body and the adrenaline feeding her
strength. Soon enough she saw Mulder's body appear
around the corner and knew that Cancer Man was behind him.
She swallowed hard and set her jaw.

In one fluent motion, Scully pushed Mulder to the side
and stepped forward just as Cancer Man rounded the corner.
She knocked the gun out of his outstretched hands and swiftly
brought the butt end of her gun down, cracking the older man
over the right cheek.

He uttered a cry and fell to his knees. It was more a
reaction of surprise than pain but it was better for Scully.
She kicked him in jaw and sent him sprawling backwards,
pointing her gun down at him.

"How does it feel?" Scully asked, angrily. She could
feel Mulder's presence behind her and knew that she should
let the anger subside, but she just couldn't. "How does it
feel to know you're about to die?" she screamed.

"Scully," Mulder said from behind her. She knew her
body was shaking with all the anger she felt but she didn't
want to stop. She had to finish this once and for all, while
the man was immobilized and at her mercy.

"Mulder, shut up," she whispered. The cold blaze in
her eyes reflected in Cancer Man's. He began to squirm but
he wasn't in any condition to get himself out of danger.

"What are you doing, Scully?" Mulder asked and
suddenly his voice was full of fright. He hadn't known that
Scully had so much anger pent-up towards the man before them.
Sure, he'd caused them pain in the past but...

His thought wasn't completed. Scully had squeezed her
eyes shut and turned her head to the side, as though she
couldn't bear to watch what she was about to do. The sound
of the gunshot resounded off the old walls of the University.

Suddenly all things around them ceased to exist for the
time being and all Mulder saw was Scully's eyes open with
every emotion flashing in them except fear.

She slowly turned to him, her chest raising and falling
with each breath, tears flowing down her face. She dropped
the gun to the ground and took a few steps toward him.
Mulder rushed to her and threw his arms around her,
supporting her because he was sure that she would fall. As
he rubbed her back consolingly he could see the mess she'd
left. Her shot was well place even though she hadn't been
looking and Cancer Man's gray matter was splattered all over
the parking lot.

It was a few minutes before his senses returned to him
and he was aware that Scully was sobbing against his chest.
She'd just killed a man in cold blood. She'd killed men
before but this one seemed different somehow.

Perhaps it was because he could no longer be a burden
to them or perhaps it was because she had done it with such a
cold fury.

"Dana," Mulder said, rubbing the back of her neck
gently and hoping the action was enough to calm the sobs.

"Fox, I killed him," she said, her voice so shaky and
remorseless that Mulder didn't know just what she was saying.

"It's for the better," Mulder said.

"I killed him," she repeated.

Shock. Scully was in shock.

"Dana, listen to me, it's alright," Mulder said. "You
did everything completely legally," he tried to convince
her.

-----

End Part Twenty-One

--

*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 Twenty-Two (End)

-----

University Parking
Loyola University

"I think that's all we need for now, Agent Mulder.
Thank you for your cooperation," the short, balding detective
for the Chicago Police Department said. Mulder vaguely
remembered him introducing himself as Det. Patrick Mulligan.
Mulder nodded and shook the man's hand. Now that his
statement was given, he could go on to the really important
things. Like finding Scully in all this mess.

The gunshot had brought people, lots and lots of people,
out of the nearby classrooms. The gawkers hung on for a
while, watching the Coroner's wagon load the black body bag
into its cargo area, and leaving the scene. The black and
white squad cars, with the blue uniformed officers, did their
best to keep the crowd at bay, but this was fairly exciting,
even more so that it happened on a relatively quiet college
campus and during broad daylight. The official story was
simple. An attempted abduction of a Federal Agent resulted
in the death of the abductor. It was a good thing the
Federal Agent had the good sense to be in the company of
another Federal Agent at the time of the attempt. Case
closed.

In the midst of the crowd, Mulder spied Father Daly. He
motioned the agent over with a wave of his hand. "Dana is in
the chapel. It's quiet in there. She looked like she needed
some time," the old priest said with a gentle smile.

"Where's Sam?" Mulder asked, again scanning the area.

"I called Michael's mother. The Callavelo's live in
Rogers Park, just a few blocks over. She's with little
Samantha in my office over in the Doyle Center. She'll be
fine until the two of you come get her. And if I'm not
mistaken, Bridget, uh, Mrs. Callavelo, is expecting the
three of you for dinner. Young Michael is going to have some
'heavy' explaining to do with his mother for not telling her
he was in town, I'm afraid," Friar Daly added with a wicked
grin. Mulder grinned back and left at a trot to find Scully.

The Chapel of the Madonna de la Strata was on the edge
of Lake Michigan. Just a few feet from the door of the old
Church, the waves of the Lake lapped on the shore,
threatening with each movement to dislodge more of the
precious soil. One day, without intervention, the Chapel
would be claimed by the Lake. But for now, it was a haven in
the middle of a crowded urban area. Slowly, Mulder pulled
open the heavy wooden doors and entered.

It was dark and slightly dank inside. The smells of
candle wax, incense and lake water mingled to make their
presence almost tangible. The only light came from the
stained glass that lined the walls. He found her in the
front of the church, kneeling before a statute of someone he
could only guess was Mary. Scully looked to be lost in
prayer. He walked toward her hesitantly.

"It's okay, Mulder, it's not a private conversation,"
Dana said, without letting her gaze waver from the statute in
front of her.

"Blessed Mother, this is the man I plan to marry. Fox
Mulder, meet the Mother of God," she added and let a gentle
smile form on her lips.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, uh, Your Lady?" he said
with a bit of confusion. He couldn't tell if Dana was
serious with this or not and he sure didn't want to cause her
any more heartache for the day.

"Our Lady," Dana corrected. "She's Our Lady." Suddenly
her shoulders began to shake and her head dropped to her
chest as tears coursed down her cheeks. "Oh, Mulder, I just
killed a man," she sobbed as he took her in his arms. "I
killed a man in cold blood. I can't believe I did that. I
just can't believe I could hate anyone that much. . ."

He stroked her hair and made soft noises in her ear.
"It's okay, Dana. It's okay. He would have killed me once
he had Sam. And there's no telling what he would have done
to her. You did the right thing. It's all right. It will
be all right."

"Sam! Where's Sam?" she asked anxiously, looking behind
him toward the door of the chapel. "Mulder, what if he wasn't
alone?"

"Not to worry. Father Daly took her to his office.
Mickey's mother is with her now. I think she's safe. And as
for. . .whatever the hell his name was, well, I'm certain he
was alone. Otherwise, whoever was with him would have taken
me out when you started shooting."

At that thought, she clutched him harder and sobbed
again into his shoulder. "I couldn't let him take her. I
knew that's what he wanted. I just couldn't let him. Not
again."

He gently pushed her away for a second to look into her
face. "You mean you killed him because he was going to take
Sam," he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, yes," she said, confusion in her eyes. "Why
else?"

"Oh, I thought it might have been that I was in danger.
You know, he did have a gun on me," Mulder said pointedly.

"Mulder," Scully responded, slightly annoyed, "you could
have handled that. I was worried that he'd knock you
senseless and take Sam. I just wanted it over. I don't
think I could have gone on worrying every night if he might
come and take her again. That was the only thought in my
mind." She wiped at her cheek and he handed her his
handkerchief.

Mulder bit back his smart reply. This was not the time.
It suddenly occurred to him that maybe the woman in front of
him really did love his sister, possibly as much as he did.
And more than ever before he determined to make her his wife.

He looked around at the small chapel. It was very
pretty, old, lots of dark wood and beautiful carvings. "Nice
church," he commented. She looked around, perhaps for the
first time and nodded. "Make a great place for a wedding,"
he said, his eyes shining. She graced him with a precious
smile.

"We'd have to fly back here," she said. "And we'd have
to bring everyone with us."

"What everyone? Your mom, the Gunmen, maybe we'll
invite Skinner, Chloe and Mickey. Everyone else has to fly
to get to the wedding anyway. So how about it, Scully? Make
an honest man of me. Here, in this chapel."

-----

Four months later...
Wicket's Bar and Grill
Washington, DC

Michael Callavelo, dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt
and a black leather jacket, stepped out of Chloe's sedan and
gawked at the line of people that led to the entrance of the
bar.

"Chloe, maybe this isn't such a good idea..." Mickey
protested, feeling a little self conscious. He stood beside
the car and stared at the line as Chloe came up beside him.

She leaned close to him and said, "Mickey, don't be
ridiculous. I've been promising this since we got on that
plane together."

"I know but--"

"But nothin', Mick. You're not going to give up a
night of all-you-can-drink beer, are ya?" Chloe asked,
poking him playfully in the ribs with her elbow.

Mickey laughed, he couldn't help it. Chloe had the
strangest grin on her face. "Alright, but how long do you
think it's going to take us to get in there?" Chloe's grin
spread at the question.

"Just watch," she said. She grabbed a hold of his
wrist and dragged him to the beginning of the line where she
left him to watch her tactics. He noticed that she looked
good in tight fitting jeans and a plaid workers shirt.
Obviously the bouncer at the door, whose ear she was
now whispering in, agreed completely. The bouncer smiled and
nodded. Chloe laughed and returned to Mickey's side. He
tried to ignore the fact that she still had a limp from her
injuries but it was too evident.

"What did you say to him?" Mickey asked, curiously.
He was trying to shut out the guilty feelings he felt for not
being there to help Chloe. Shoving them into the back of his
mind he forced himself to smile. He discovered it wasn't all
that difficult around Chloe.

"I reminded him of a favor I did for him once. He's a
friend of mine," Chloe replied. Mickey shook his head. He
wasn't going to ask her to explain the favor, he wasn't sure
he wanted to know.

"Alright, I'm following you. That guy scares me,"
Mickey said, draping his arm casually over Chloe's shoulder
as a friend might.

"He scares you? Mickey, you're the one with the
gun..." Chloe said and laughed.

"Not tonight," he said as they walked through the
crowds of people.

"No gun? How do you expect to defend yourself from
your evil partner?" Chloe asked, grinning. They found a
booth in the far corner of the bar and had to shout over the
music to be heard. Mickey shrugged and leaned over
the table to shout in Chloe's ear.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said. Chloe smiled. She
had begun to think this partnership could be the start of a
long lasting friendship--something she hadn't had in a long
time. Things were looking up for the both of them.

-----

Chapel of Madonna de la Strata

"Stand still, Mickey! You keep wiggling," Samantha
Mulder berated the young agent as she attempted to tie his
ascot.

"I do better at these things on the 'other' side of the
altar, ya know," was his hissed comment. "I was a fairly
decent Altar Boy. I was almost a Deacon."

"Your talents never cease to amaze me, Callavelo," Fox
said dryly, leaning against the door jam and admiring his
sister's handiwork. "Hey, squirt, aren't you supposed to be
helping the bride?"

"Nah, Chloe said she had it under control. She wanted
me to make sure you two guys don't embarrass us." She jumped
down from the stool she was standing on. "Here, let me look
at you," she ordered her brother. Dutifully, he turned
around in a slow circle, while Mickey and Sam let out wolf
whistles.

"You two _can_ be replaced," he growled. Then he
reached down and gave his sister a tight hug. "Now, off with
you. Go do what flower girls are supposed to do."

"I am NOT a 'flower girl'!" she said indignantly. "*I*
am a 'junior attendant'!"

"Then go 'attend'!" he ordered and gave her a light
swat on the backside as she scooted out the door giggling.

"So, you got 'cold feet', yet?" Mickey asked when Sam
was safely out of earshot.

"Not on your life, Callavelo. I've been waiting
for this day forever."

"You're getting a wonderful lady, that's for sure. And
she isn't that bad a boss, either," he smiled. The new,
expanded X-Files division, which included two subdivisions,
one investigative, one forensic had been Skinner's wedding
present. With the demise of Cancer Man, the Consortium had
vanished into thin air, but managed to leave behind enough
evidence to answer several questions.

"She's too easy on you. She needs to whip you into
shape," Fox smiled.

"Oh, like you do?" Mickey asked with a devilish grin.
"Come on. Chloe will kill me if I don't get you out there on
time."

***********

"Do you see them?" Dana asked, trying to sound calmer
than she felt.

Chloe was standing with the door to the sanctuary opened
a crack. "Just a minute. . .OK, here they come. Yeah.
They're up there now," she said and tried to hide her relief.
"You did a good job with that tie, Sammi. I couldn't have
done better," she smiled down at the little girl.

Samantha beamed. "It wasn't easy, either. He fidgets,"
she said solemnly.

Chloe broke into a grin. "I've noticed. Last stake out
I was ready to tie him to his seat! The man is. . ."

"Typical?" Dana chimed in and all three broke into peals
of laughter. When they regained their composure, she
straightened her dress and veil. "Chloe, you're sure about
this?" she asked before taking her bouquet from her 'maid of
honor'.

"Hey, it will be a pleasure. I'll love watching Sam for
you while you're gone. Who ever heard of taking a nine year
old on a honeymoon! You two just go, have a great time and
maybe even leave the hotel room once or twice, just to send
us a post card," she added with a wink. "Now, come on. I
think we've made them squirm long enough. Move out, troops!"

-----

END

*End Note: Big thanks go to Megan Reilly who did a wicked
editing job on this. Thanks for the time and effort Megan!
(Hey, why not have a shameless plug?) Go read her stuff,
it's great!

--