CHAPTER 17

Hospital parking lot
Reno, NV
******************
Johnny Walker leaned back, staring upward at the tall building before him. "Are
you certain the Prototype is here?" he asked. "This appears to be a medical
facility."

Tia looked puzzled but stood her ground. "This is where I was led. This is
where we will search. The force of Communion was strong here. I am still
rather awed that a native of this place is capable of accommodating the
Prototype at all, let alone commune with it. Logically, this should not
happen."

"*That* is a rather ridiculous statement, considering that the event in question
has already taken place. Logic has very little to do with it anyway," a warm
baritone voice replied.

Johnny and Tia spun to face the familiar visage of Dr. Jay. Both bowed slightly
to convey their respect to an elder. <When did he get here?> they both
wondered. <Wish he wouldn't do that.>

Johnny was first to recover enough to speak. "I do not understand."

Dr. Jay sighed loudly, a gesture he'd adopted after many years of observation
and interaction with the amazingly expressive local inhabitants. "The host you
seek is special. He is unique unto himself and there are no others -- yet.
That the Prototype found him among the thronging masses of humanity is no less
than miraculous in itself."

"It is quite apparent that the host's identity is known to you. How is it that
we were not made aware of this information?" Tia inquired.

"Because I was not aware of it myself until several hours ago. You must be
careful with him for he has only a rudimentary understanding of the power he now
controls. He has been injured by the forces who would claim our memories and
heritage as their own." Dr. Jay gazed at the cold white walls of the hospital,
his head tilted as though he was listening to something. "Our time runs short,"
he said. "Even now, this government and the others plot their joint and
separate schemes to torture and destroy the closest thing to a son that I will
ever know."

Johnny stared deeply into Dr. Jay's ancient eyes and found the memory that he
was allowed to see. "The experiment," he whispered hoarsely. "The host is the
culmination of the forbidden genetic meddling for which you were punished so
many years ago."

Dr. Jay nodded slowly. "The host has a name, my friends," he said. "His name
is Fox... Fox Mulder. Though to you he may only be the receptacle of forbidden
knowledge, to me he is a bridge between our existences, not to mentioned an
extremely important part of *me.* Therefore, I would take it very personal
should any harm befall this young man or his loved ones, very personal indeed."

"We heard rumors of this," Tia said. "We did not know whether they were true."

"Yes, my dear, they were true," Dr. Jay said sadly. "I was once condemned for
my unconventional ideas. I believed that we should intervene when we could to
assist those who needed our help, and I acted upon those beliefs. For that I
was reduced to the role of 'Observer,' unable to respond to the cruelty and need
around me."

Dr. Jay gazed at Tia's young face. He could remember being that young once.
"Unlike you, I am an empath," he said. "Can you envision my personal hell,
being refused my right to ease the pain and suffering of those around me? To
feel their anguish and be required to turn a mute ear to their cries for help?
Well, not this time," he said emphatically. "Let it be known to the elders that
should there be a question of preserving the life and happiness of my ward, I
will not hesitate. I will assist him in any way possible, though they may
condemn me to a darker fate as a result of my interference. For you see, I have
discovered something more important than all our memories, power, technology,
and intellect. Fox Mulder taught me about love, and it is worth any sacrifice
that I could make."

Johnny moved closer to Tia, placing a proprietary arm around her shoulders. The
movement was not lost on Dr. Jay. "Perhaps you should inform our illustrious
leaders of what they have missed," he said with a smile.

En route to the Red Sands Hotel
Reno, NV
********************

"Jake, is there any particular reason why you keep insisting on driving?" Scully
asked with mild annoyance edging her tones.

The big man shifted his position in the seat while flexing his fingers nervously
around the steering wheel. <Oh, not really... I just love taking the corners on
two wheels. Reminds me of that carnie show -- 'Wheels of Death' -- at the
county fair.> He wondered if she'd been moonlighting. "No," he finally
replied. "You just seemed a little preoccupied and I thought maybe you had
other more important things to concentrate on than the road."

He watched that stubborn little chin jut out in defiance and readied himself for
an argument. She was just about to let him have it when an annoying little
trill from her coat pocket interrupted her delivery.

"Saved by the bell," Jake mumbled.

"What?" Dana asked, raising one eyebrow, daring him to repeat his last comment.

"Nothin'," Jake answered as she pulled the phone from her coat and put it to her
ear.

"He what?!" she exclaimed incredulously. "What do you mean, they don't know
why? Sir, just because they couldn't discover a cause, doesn't mean there isn't
one." She took a deep breath, evidently reminding herself not to kill the
messenger. "Do *you* think he should be released tomorrow? I know you're not a
doctor..." She paused to listen. "We're on our way to interview the last
employee who was working the night of the last murder." Scully paused and
flipped through her notes. "Ms. Lily Morgan." She paused to listen again.
"Yes, that's right, she works in the coffee shop." Jake glanced at her in time
to see one eyebrow climb her forehead. "Yes sir, I will sir, just promise me
you won't let anyone take him from that room until I get back. I know you will.
Thank you, sir."

Jake kept silent as the tough little red-head absently returned the phone to her
pocket and stared at the passing sights with unseeing eyes. The call she'd just
received evidently hadn't provided her with the news she'd been hoping for.
Concern etched itself into her delicate features and in her
distraction, she had totally dismissed her previous little tif with him.

<The kid must have had some complications or something.> Jake cleared his
throat, trying to decide whether he should ask or just keep his mouth shut.
Whatever it was, it couldn't be anything too serious, though, or they'd be
heading back to the hospital on two wheels again. He shuddered once more at the
memory and vowed to keep her in the passenger seat as long as possible. He
wasn't being chauvinistic, he just had a keen sense of survival.

Of course, he knew if she asked, he'd do anything for her, even risk setting a
new land speed record back to the hospital. This was one dame who seemed to
possess the unnerving ability to melt him into a puddle. Few women in his life
had been able to create that kind of effect on him, and as ironic as it might
seem, he'd met one with distinct possibilities just the other day.
Unfortunately it was the same woman he was going to have to rake over the coals
this afternoon... Lily Morgan.

He hated to admit it, but his thoughts had gone back to her on more than one
occasion since their first meeting. He hadn't needed to pull a profile on her
today when he was checking backgrounds on the Red Sands night shift workers --
he'd already done that. He knew her background, knew the type of hell she'd
escaped from, and it only confirmed his impression that she was a woman of
quality. She was pretty yet understated, vulnerable but with a quiet kind of
strength and fortitude that be found extremely compelling. In some ways she
reminded him of Red.

Except, of course, that Red was openly assertive and at times just plain mouthy.
But not now. Now she had the look of a frightened bird. It was a look that
was grossly inconsistent with her normal disposition and it stood out glaringly.

Dana finally turned toward him slowly, locking her frightened eyes on his. "They
say he's had some kind of seizure," she finally managed to squeeze out in a
whisper. "His EEG was unreadable. Yet they can't seem to find any organic
cause for his unusual brain activity."

Jake nodded slightly. "Is he in trouble? We can go back if you want," he
offered.

"No," she replied. "Skinner said there have been no further problems and that
for the moment Mulder's sedated and exhibiting as much animation as a pet rock.
Skinner should be able to
handle him in that condition," she muttered, trying to tamp down the over
whelming urge to slam on the brakes, do a 180, and break all existing Indy 500
speed records back to the hospital. But she had a job to do and Mulder would
expect -- no, *demand* that she follow through with their case regardless of her
own personal feelings in the matter. <Easier said than done, Sherlock.>

Moorehouse noted the brief flash of indecision that crossed her features. It
was soon followed by a fierce determination that was characterized by the
stubborn set of her jaw. She would do whatever she had to do to get to the
bottom of this case, he realized with more than a little admiration. It was
especially important now that Mulder seemed to be unwillingly entangled in it in
some bizarre fashion that Jake hadn't quite yet figured out.

Red seemed to have an inkling of what the hell was going on with her partner but
had so far not seen fit to let him in on the secret. Her reluctance to share
this knowledge with him was irksome but he understood her protective nature
toward the kid. Hell, where Mulder was concerned, he often fell into that same
rut himself. There was just something about the man that triggered a nurturing
response in people -- well, in most people anyway. But it was just the two of
them out on the case now, and partners, even temporary ones, shouldn't be
keeping secrets from each other.

"What the hell is going on, Red?" Moorehouse demanded quietly.

Scully raised an eyebrow and snorted, a gesture that seemed to convey a feeling
that was part resignation and part frustration. "You wouldn't believe me if I
told you," she said.

"How do you know?" Jake asked, a bit miffed. Considering what he'd seen the
first time he'd met these two, he figured his horizons had broadened quite a
lot. These days, he kept an open mind, no matter how bizarre things sounded.

Dana smiled wistfully. "Because, I'm not sure that I believe it myself," she
confessed.

Jake studied her with open surprise. "You aren't sure? Look Red, far be it for
me to question what you do or don't believe, but whatever it is, you must have
found some of it plausible or you wouldn't be worrying yourself into a head full
of gray hair over that partner of yours right now."

He paused as another motorist cut them off, complete with rude hand gesture.
Jake wondered if that guy would have a heart attack if he knew he just flipped
off the Feds. Too bad the rental car didn't come equipped with a bubble light
and a siren. It would be worth it just to scare the crap out of the little
bastard.

At least it got Scully to smile, just a little. "It's nice to know that some
things are a universal constant," she commented.

Jack snorted. "Ain't that the truth. Dickheads are dickheads, no matter where
you are." He glanced over at her. "But you gotta be able to tell the dickheads
from the good guys. Look, I know you find it hard to trust people and god
knows, I can't blame you for that. But goddamn
it, Red. I'm kinda fond of the kid, we're working this case together, and I
think I deserve a little trust here."

"It's not that I don't trust you..." she began.

"It's whether I'll believe you," he finished. "All I can say is that I promise
to keep an open mind. I have to after seeing what was on that ship a few months
back. I'd like to think that you wouldn't expect any less from me than he
expected from you. How about if you just tell me Mulder's theory of the week?
I might not agree with him, but after the things I've seen, I won't dismiss it
as out of hand either," Jake explained.

Dana reached over and patted the big man's arm with a fondness she didn't
realize existed. "I don't think Mulder knows exactly what's happening," Dana
whispered reluctantly.

"What do you mean? The kid always has a theory," Moorehouse prodded.

"Yes, but whatever theory he has at this point is probably invalid," Dana
hedged, turning her face toward the passenger window.

"Why would you say that?" Jake asked. It wasn't like Scully to write off one of
Mulder's theories, even the more hair brained ones, without some kind of
scientific reference.

"Because he doesn't have all the necessary information with which to make an
educated hypothesis," she said while still avoiding eye contact.

Moorehouse hadn't been a cop for so many years without learning how to read
between the lines. "You withheld information from him," he ventured. Jake knew
she trusted her partner above all else, so this was something he hadn't
anticipated. "Why?" he asked as he slowed down and parked in front of a
low-rent apartment complex. "What did you discover that you wouldn't trust him
enough to tell him?"

Dana averted her eyes once more. She couldn't keep this inside any longer. She
had to tell someone and Skinner wasn't available and Mulder wasn't an option she
thought she had.

Slumping down into her seat, Dana finally met his eyes. "It's not a matter of
trust, Jake," she said. "It's a matter of whether or not what I've been told and
what I've seen would push him over the edge if he knew." Dainty hands clasped
tightly as they rested in her lap. She could have lived
happily in ignorance without this unsolicited knowledge. Sometimes she felt the
truth was highly over-rated and best left unknown.

"It's just that he's had more pain and sorrow thrust upon him than any one man
should ever have to endure, yet he bears it all and manages to continue through
the heartache to make a difference in this life," she continued. "Jake, he's so
undeserving of all the shit he gets. I'm afraid that one day he'll break. And
I don't want what I know to be the last straw. For once, I just want him to be
happy, to feel safe and loved. And I think I can make that happen."

"Well, I'd say that if anyone could do that, it would be you," Jake replied.
"And normally, I'd probably agree with you. He's a good kid who's got more than
his share of bum raps. However, being as close as you two seem to be, do you
think it's right to start keeping secrets from each other? I mean, even if your
intentions are noble and well-meaning, you're setting a precedent
here for the future that kinda bothers me to see. I've seen partnerships hit
the skids over less."

Just one look at her face told him she didn't like keeping this secret, whatever
it was, and that she'd considered the consequences. It must be a whopper.
"Could what you're holding from him put him in danger because he doesn't have
all the facts?" he asked.

Dana leaned forward, placing her head in her hands. "If what I know is true,
yes, not knowing could be dangerous. But that's just it, Jake, I don't know
that what I know is truly factual. What if I blow his world to hell with this
and it's all a lie?"

Moorehouse nodded in understanding but pressed on relentlessly. "If this
so-called information could have that kind of impact on his life, don't you
think he should be know? Even if it's only a possibility, doesn't he have the
right to judge for himself?"

The anguish in her eyes was horrible to see. He wasn't saying anything she
hadn't already thought of herself, and he could see this was tearing her up.
Moorehouse remembered something his mother always used to say whenever he didn't
know what to do - put yourself in the other guy's shoes. "Okay, Red, look at it
this way. If the situation was reversed, how would you feel about him leaving
you in the dark about something that concerned you? What would you want?" he
asked.

Dana sat up and looked at him, considering this new slant on things. "You're
absolutely right, Detective Moorehouse. I wouldn't like it -- wouldn't like it
at all. And here I thought you were all just fluff and glitter," she joked
softly as she leaned over and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, I owe
you one," she chuckled, watching the tough guy blush.

"Any time, Red, any time." He cleared his throat noisily this time, trying to
cover his embarrassment. "Let's go see Ms. Morgan, shall we?"

"That reminds me," Scully said as they got out of the car. "Skinner said he met
her this morning in the coffee shop when he ran into Mulder. It looked like
Mulder'd been talking to her at the counter. Skinner said she was friendly at
first, but then she clammed up and acted nervous when he mentioned they were
with the FBI."

"Yeah, I had a feeling she was being a little less than truthful the last time I
was here with Tony interviewing potential witnesses after the Harris murder,"
Jake said. "I got a hunch she might know more than she let on about that. A
couple other night shift people I talked to today said Simons used frequent the
coffee shop right before her shift ended, said he was always nice to her and
gave her a big tip. So she knows the guy. If nothing else, maybe we can get a
lead on the whereabouts of Dr. Simon."

Jake led the way across a barren courtyard. "I think I've come across a little
information we might be able to use to get her to be a little more cooperative,"
he said, climbing the concrete stairs to Lily Morgan's second floor apartment.

Dana's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Withholding information, Detective?" she
asked.

Jake shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned. "Timely distribution of selected
facts," he muttered. "Sometimes it's not what you know --- but *when* you let
someone else know you know it."

Stepping onto the second floor landing, Dana pondered that pseudo-philosophical
statement. God help her. She was beginning to follow Jake's totally bent brand
of logic and *that* was almost as frightening as understanding Mulder's bizarre,
off the wall theories. It was no wonder Jake and Mulder seemed to get along so
well. They both guarded their soft insides with a thick skin of flippant
superficiality.

Sacred Heart Hospital
7pm
*******************

Walter Skinner shifted restlessly in the small chair in Mulder's room. I
nactivity had sufficiently lulled his senses into a mild state of complacency
and his eyelids began to slowly droop shut -- that is until the phone by
Mulder's bed broke the room's unnatural silence with a shrill, echoing trill.

"Who in the hell could that be?" Walter asked himself, mentally going down the
list of the few people who had been given the number. Cautiously he placed the
receiver to his ear. "Skinner," he said in a clipped tone.

"So nice of you to make yourself readily available," a familiar voice replied
with a sarcastic lisp.

Skinner could almost hear the disgusting suction as the man took a drag on his
ever-present cigarette, could almost see and smell its noxious smoke through the
telephone wire. "How did you get this number? What the hell do you want?"
Skinner managed to ask with barely leashed anger.

"Really, Mr. Skinner, " the voice admonished. "Is that any way to talk to
someone who is about to provide you with life-saving advice?"

Skinner didn't like the sound of this conversation already, and had to seriously
question himself as to why he was having it in the first place. Talking to this
man made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Why would *you* want to
provide me with information?"

"Let's just say that in this instance... it's in my best interest."

"I'm listening," Skinner replied, forcing himself to remain calm. "Talk."

"It would be ... beneficial to Agent Mulder's continuing health if he were to
be... relocated. They will be coming for him soon and this time he'll be taken
legally. You will not have the authority or the power to stop it."

Skinner switched the phone to his other ear. "Who?"

"That, my friend, is not important."

"I am *not* your friend. I thought I made that clear long ago," Skinner
seethed.

"Again, that's not important," the man replied. "In any case, you have a
decision to make. If you do not heed my warning, they will quite possibly
reduce the boy's gray matter to the consistency of lumpy oatmeal in a matter of
hours to obtain what they want from him."

"Which is?"

"Why -- the secrets of the universe, of course, Mr. Skinner. Surely you don't
believe Mulder has been allowed to survive this long simply because my
benefactors enjoyed his company, do you?" The man's tone changed, his words
becoming as abrupt as his manner. " You're wasting precious time interrogating
me. Make your decision and live with it. I've done what I could and probably
more than I should." With that the phone went dead with an exaggerated click.

Skinner studied the innocent looking features of his peacefully sleeping agent
and shuddered. It could be a trick -- a carefully plotted elaborate ruse to get
Mulder away from the fortress-like confines of the hospital room and into a more
vulnerable position on the outside. But, if
what he'd just been told was true, this windowless room could -- would become
Mulder's Waterloo. Skinner'd seen what these people could do. They had the
power and influence to make their own laws and had the muscle to back up their
execution. He would have no recourse. These bastards would come, they would
take the agent into custody for his own safety, and Mulder would disappear like
so many others.

<Think Walter, there's not much time.>

Whatever Mulder had gotten himself into, whether or not it had anything to do
with what Scully'd told him earlier, seemed to make Mulder extremely important
to several different factions. He was suddenly so important, in fact, that they
weren't above stabbing each other in the back to get to him. Whoever the "they"
were this time, they must be powerful indeed if Cancerman feared he would lose
access to Mulder if they took him into custody. Therefore, it wasn't out of
character for the smoking bastard to thwart their plans if he could, providing
that his actions advanced his own agenda. Whatever his reasons, Walter knew for
a fact that they weren't based on the goodness of his heart. He was fairly
certain the son of a bitch didn't have one.

On one hand, leaving this place would put them at his mercy, not to mention that
Mulder wasn't in the greatest of shape right now. On the other hand, staying
could present an even larger danger. He had a great deal more confidence in his
ability to out maneuver Cancerman than he did at being able to circumvent the
powerful arm of legal governmental corruption.

His decision made, Skinner reached down and gently began jostling Mulder from
his drug-induced stupor. "Agent Mulder, wake up!!!" he spoke urgently into the
young man's ear.

A muffled groan was the only response Skinner received for his efforts. This
wasn't working and he had no time to lose. As a last resort, Skinner lightly
slapped Mulder's face, carefully trying to avoid the more bruised and swollen
areas. "Come on, Mulder," he hissed. "Now is not the time for you to start
heeding medical advice." He detached the precautionary IV and pulled back the
covers. "Mulder, get the fuck up... NOW!!"

One arm wavered up from the bed, blindly searching for the source of his
discomfort. The hand finally came to rest on Skinner's shoulder. "Oh God,
Dana... not again," Mulder mumbled with a faint smile, pulled Skinner down close
enough to whisper in his ear.

A bemused expression crept over Skinner's face. <If the situation wasn't so
serious, this would be outlandishly funny> "Fox," he murmured in reply, "I'm
flattered by the offer, but I really don't think Dana wants to share you."

"Hmmm?" came the sleepy response.

Something must have finally gotten through to Mulder on a purely basic level.
Skinner watched as Mulder's groggily slitted, slightly clouded eyes fought their
way to a somewhat open position at the sound of his unexpectedly masculine
voice.

<Oh shit!> Mulder realized his mistake and blushed furiously. He'd never live
this one down
-- married less than a week and already propositioning his boss of all people.
Who in the hell would believe he could mistake Skinner for Scully? Even he'd
have trouble believing that one. Time... he needed time to clear this quicksand
out of his brain.

Skinner was growling at him and though he couldn't quite comprehend the words,
the urgency in the man's voice got through to him. Strong hands and arms pushed
and pulled him into a sitting position while patiently dressing him like a
drowsy child. He did his best to try and cooperate.

It was a good thing Scully'd had the foresight to bring a clean set of Mulder's
clothes with her to the hospital. Knowing Mulder's propensity for disobeying
doctors' orders, he even understood why she'd made him promise not to inform
Mulder of their presence. Right now, he was just glad they were here. "I don't
know exactly what you've gotten yourself into," Skinner said. "But you're in
deep shit, Mulder. We've got to get you out of here."

"Wha...?" Mulder slurred, still in a bit of a haze. It was difficult to focus.
Even though he'd been able to push the odd memories and strange voices into a
pending file in the back of his mind, the lingering effects of the sedatives
he'd been given were making him sluggish in both mind and body.

Struggling to get Mulder's limp feet to slide into his boat-size sneakers was an
exercise in pure futility. Skinner finally gave up and tossed the monsters
under the bed in aggravation. "We don't have time for this," Skinner grumbled.
"You'll just have to go barefoot."

"Where are we going, sir?" Mulder muttered lazily.

"I don't know yet -- anywhere as long as it's away from here."

Mulder nodded half-consciously and began to nod off.

"Oh no, you don't," Skinner hissed as he grasped the front of Mulder's shirt and
hauled the now semi-reclining man back into a sitting position. <Shit!> He had
to get Mulder awake and alert... and fast.

Quickly surveying the room, Skinner spied an ice bucket of slowly melting cubes
and smiled. Mulder wasn't going to like this but he was running out of options.
Steadying Mulder with his left hand, he reached out with his right, grabbed the
bucket, and unceremoniously dumped its icy contents over the head of the
unsuspecting, rumpled individual seated before him.

Mulder's eyes flew open in wide-eyed surprise while a sharp inhalation of air
resulted in a fair amount of coughing and gagging. If he wasn't awake before,
he sure was now. "Motherfucker!!" Mulder exclaimed through chattering teeth.
"What the hell? I was awake -- sort of," he sputtered in a cracking voice. A
dim part of his mind registered that he'd just cussed out his boss, but right
now he was shaking too hard to care.

"Right."

Gee, he didn't think his boss believed him. "I wouldn't lie," Mulder pouted in
an overly hurt tone.

"Jesus Christ, Mulder. Not now!!! For some reason some very nasty people want
your butt and they don't care how they get it. Am I Getting Through?"

Mulder blinked slowly and let the information sink in. "Yes sir, you are," he
replied seriously. "Cancerman?"

Skinner allowed himself a sardonic grunt. "Worse."

"Worse?" Mulder gulped. "Wow." Obviously, the drugs hadn't quite worn off yet.

"Yes, I know. I didn't think it was possible either, but it is and we have to
get you out of here before the bastards come to collect." Skinner glanced down
at Mulder's damaged leg. "Can you walk?"

Mulder tried putting a little weight on it and grimaced. It hurt, but it was
manageable. "I'll have to, won"t I? If you could just lend me a shoulder to
lean on, I'm sure I'll be able to walk. It's just a small hole, sir. Big deal.
If I had to stop every time someone or something provided me with another
unwanted body orifice, I'd never get anything solved." Mulder grinned.
"Besides, I've gotten used to working with a deficit. You know... SNAFU
(Situation Normal All Fucked Up)."

Skinner grinned broadly in spite of himself. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with that
phrase."

Mulder looked at the door and frowned. "Sir, I vaguely remember a guard posted
outside the door. How are you going to get us out of here without being seen?"

Skinner smiled evilly. "I'm sure the guard was instructed in no uncertain terms
not to allow any unauthorized individuals *into* this room, but I can almost
guarantee that preventing someone from leaving the room wasn't covered. Being
Assistant Director has it advantages." He gave Mulder a sidelong glance. "If
you can't trust the Assistant Director, who *can* you trust?"

"No one," Mulder mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that!" Skinner growled.

"It's nice to know advancing age hasn't adversely affected your hearing, sir."

"Nice to know that at a time like this, you still have the balls to be a
smartass," Skinner retorted.

"It does require a natural aptitude along with a certain amount of acquired
skill," Mulder said as he attempted for the second time to slide slowly from the
bed to rest his bare feet on the cold floor tiles. The resulting shock replayed
its earlier performance, reverberating through his injured leg and up his spine
like liquid fire. An involuntary gasp of pain escaped from between gritted
teeth. The leg, refusing to support his weight, buckled unexpectedly, pitching
him forward and into his boss's iron-like grip.

"Sorry, sir," Mulder whispered weakly. "Your turn to lead, I guess."

Skinner grunted with amusement. "Agent Mulder, as a dance partner, you leave a
lot to be desired. Perhaps if you'd learn to follow a little better."

"Following has never been my forte," Mulder replied with a hint of apology.

"Exactly," Skinner agreed as he supported Mulder's weak side and helped him
hobble across the room to a spot by the door. Mulder transferred his weight off
Skinner and leaned against the wall next to the door.

Carefully, the A.D. slid out of the room and studied the fidgeting officer on
his left. He did a few quick mental calculations. The man had been here when
he'd arrived this last time, which was about two hours ago. Several empty
coffee cups were stacked neatly beside the chair. Skinner knew the officer's
relief wasn't due for nearly twenty minutes. The man was in dire need of a
break.

Skinner took a few short steps to place himself in front of the young officer.
He met the man's intimidated gaze with his most congenial face. "Officer
Wilson?"

"Yes, sir?" Wilson answered, just a tad too eagerly.

<Ah youth> "You've been here quite a while, Officer Wilson," he commiserated.
"Why don't you take a short break, use the restroom, and freshen up a little."
He could tell that thought appealed to the man. Sentry duty could play havoc
with a person's bladder.

Duty and comfort warred across the young officer's face. Duty won, but only
just. "I can't, sir," Officer Wilson replied. "I was given specific
instructions not to leave my post for any reason unless I was properly r
elieved."

"Officer Wilson, do you know who I am?"

Startled, the young man answered, "You're Assistant Director, Skinner, sir."

"And who gave the orders regarding this post?"

"You did, sir."

"And you were told by your Captain to cooperate fully with the FBI regarding
this assignment, were you not?"

Officer Wilson gulped. "Yes, sir."

"So, do you believe that I am not qualified to relieve you?"

The officer stuttered with embarrassment. "N... no sir, of course not. Sir."

"Then go take that break before you explode all over this nice, sanitary floor,"
Skinner ordered.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I'll be right back, sir."

"For crissakes, Wilson, take your time," Skinner called after him as the man
rushed down the hall. Skinner turned back to the door to hide his smile. Rank
sometimes had its little perks.

**********************************************

CHAPTER 18

Sacred Heart Hospital
Room 42A
*******************

When Skinner pushed open the door to Mulder's room, he heard a low hearty
chuckle "What is *your* problem, Agent Mulder?"

"Oh, nothing, sir," Mulder replied, trying to swallow his laughter. Skinner
raised an eyebrow at him and that was too much. Mulder's laughter bubbled over.
"I know I shouldn't be laughing, but I think you enjoyed that. Even though it's
a pretty cruel trick. He's going to think he's in deep shit when he returns and
we're missing."

"Yes, he is," Skinner agreed, looking a little too pleased with himself for
Mulder's comfort.

"Remind me never to make you too mad at me...okay?"

"Don't worry, Mulder. You've already endured the best I can dish out and you
survived. Officer Wilson will be fine. I'll make sure his Captain knows what
we did... if we ever get out of this mess."

Skinner reached for Mulder's arm. "Come on, we're going down to the basement and
out the
delivery exit."

"Basement?"

"Well, you didn't think we could go out the front door, did you?"

"No, I guess not," Mulder replied. "It's just that I can't seem to get away
from fucking
basements."

"When we get back to D.C., I'll see what I can do to get you an office with
windows. Move your ass, Mulder."

"Actually, the basement isn't all that bad, sir," Mulder said as they made their
way down the hall toward the elevators. "It's right next to the gym, the pool,
and the basketball court. Kinda like my own little health spa."

"Mulder... shut up. I knew I should have left you sedated."

Mulder opened his mouth to retort but upon looking at Skinner's annoyed e
xpression, deemed the impulse as unwise and snapped his mouth shut instead. His
jaw still ached from the last time he had irritated Skinner.

Sacred Heart Medical Center
Main Entrance
************************

A nondescript limo pulled quietly into the shadows next to a black van which sat
idling with its lights off several yards from the hospital's main entrance. An
other-worldly trio watched the group of black suited and equally unidentifiable
men in trenchcoats get out of the vehicles and bully their way into the
building.

"Wonderful, just wonderful," Dr. Jay grumbled in a low voice. "Our timing
appears to be a little out of synch. I had hoped to arrive before these moronic
visions of fashion deviation -- otherwise known as the men in black. I so would
like to meet the genetic mutation who thought up that most original label."

Johnny eyed the little man with concern as Tia spoke what he was thinking. "So
we are too late to prevent the theft of the Pprototype?" she asked impatiently.

Dr. Jay turned to Tia with an incredulous air. "The Prototype? Is that all
that concerns you -- the fate of the Prototype?"

"Of course," Tia responded. "Is that not why we have been sent here, to retrieve
that which was lost?"

Anger flared in Dr. Jay's ancient eyes. "Have we degenerated into such selfish
beings that we have no regard for the humans from whom we have learned so much?
Do you not despair over the fate of the host who now carries the burden of our
memories and the key to our survival?"

Dr. Jay could tell she didn't understand. He shook his head sadly. "I regret
to say that I am truly disappointed in your lack of compassion. When will you
learn? When will you understand? They are not perfect beings, and for that I
am eternally grateful. I have discovered over time that perfection breeds
boredom, complacency, and stagnation. We all have experienced the results of
that affliction first hand. These beings are not like us, and we can learn much
from them. I envy their drive, their curiosity, and even their naive idealistic
visions of hope, something that they cling to even in the midst of despair.
They will live on even when our souls have become
nothing more than cosmic dust. You see, we are quickly losing our capacity to
feel -- and when that happens, we are truly lost."

"I do not understand," Johnny Walker lamented.

"I know," Dr. Jay replied sadly. "I know. Perhaps one day you will." Dr. Jay
turned away from them, staring at the brightly lit white building, stark against
the darkness of the early winter evening.

"Then what is our next course of action if these men have taken... the host?"
Johnny ventured cautiously. He did not wish to rankle his elder's temper again
if he could help it. Temper? Since when did they have 'tempers'? They had
obviously been stuck in this primitive, albeit pleasant hole for far too long.
They were picking up the unseemly habits and characteristics of the
native population.

He had himself recently experienced a totally unprofessional surge of carnal
desire for his partner, Tia, something that he KNEW was totally out of character
for his species -- at least that's what they'd always been told. Wild emotions
were a deterrent to the purity of knowledge and wisdom. He had to try and
remember that.

However, with each day that he was forced to interact with these people it
became more and more difficult to deny what his instincts were telling him.
With all their imperfections, these people did seem to thrive despite -- or
maybe because of -- their adversities. As impossible as it might seem, they
appeared to find strength to overcome their weaknesses and hope where none
should logically exist.

A prime example of this unlikely phenomena was the 'host,' Fox Mulder. If what
Dr. Jay had told him about the man was true, it would indeed be devastating to
lose such a enigmatic spirit to the likes of the black government, the Others,
or any one else. He could almost understand Dr.
Jay's obsession concerning the young man's safety and well being.

"Should we follow?" asked Tia.

"No," Dr. Jay sighed. "As much as I despise saying this... we wait. We wait and
see if they return with the man. If they do not, then we can assume that their
intended victim gave them the slip," he remarked, using another bit of slang
phrasing he'd picked up over the years. "And that is an area in which Agent
Mulder is quite adept."

Tia was puzzled. "Why would Agent Mulder present these individuals with a
slip?" she asked innocently.

Johnny nodded. "That was also going to be my next inquiry."

Sighing with the patience of a tolerant parent, Dr. Jay explained the colorful
colloquialisms of this particular society. "...so therefore, this phrase refers
to Mulder's ability to escape capture by creative subterfuge and cunning. Is
this becoming any clearer to you now?"

Both Tia and Johnny nodded in dawning understanding. With a glance, they agreed
to refrain from any further inquiries. Dr. Jay's explanations tended to be
long-winded and Johnny's attention span had begun to shrink considerably since
they'd started this mission.

Moving back farther into the shadows, Dr. Jay drew his companions' attention to
another group of individuals skulking in the darkness about a block away. The
glow from a lit cigarette pierced the night and Dr. Jay struggled to contain his
anger. "Hail, hail, the gang's all here," he muttered in disgust.

His attention was drawn back to the hospital as the dark horde of suits left the
hospital and piled into their vehicles. As he suspected, Mulder was not among
them. "Evidently the game's afoot and the dogs are baying in the anticipation
of the hunt," he chuckled.

Tia and Johnny once more favored him with a confused look. This time, however,
Dr. Jay waved one hand in front of them in a dismissive manor. "Oh, never mind.
Forget I even said that." And they did.

Stargate Motel
Way, way off the beaten track
Reno, NV
****************

Skinner assisted Mulder through the front door of the tiny room he'd rented at
the Stargate Motel and shut the door against the darkness of night. The lights
of downtown Reno were far behind them and the one street light outside cast
little light in the parking lot.

He'd chosen this place specifically -- easy enough to find if you knew where you
were going, it would be nearly impossible to locate if someone was conducting a
general search of area motels. At least he hoped so. He remembered passing it
on his way back from Lake Tahoe. Was that only yesterday?

It wasn't really a motel, he'd discovered. It was more of a health spa,
although a run-down one at best. Built next to the Truckee River on the west
side of town, heated mineral pools attached to several of the rooms provided
privacy for the spa's guests -- and more than likely a popular make-out spot for
people who wanted or needed to be discrete. But small, simple rooms were
available as well. This was as good a spot as any.

Skinner frowned when Mulder shirked free of his support and hobbled painfully
across the room where he collapsed on the lumpy twin bed with the overly loud
spread.

"You should stay off that leg as much as possible," Skinner said, still f
rowning. "How is it?"

"It fucking hurts, but it's keeping my mind off of other things," Mulder
replied, emphasizing the vague reference to "things." He wasn't sure how much
Scully had told their boss about his predicament and he didn't want Skinner to
think that he was crazier than he already did.

Skinner read the apprehension in the young man's voice and reassured him with a
faint smile. "Agent Scully brought me up to speed regarding the 'conference
call' that's going on in your head and your desire for a quick and painless
disconnect. I must admit that not too long ago I might have handed you over for
a psychological exam if she'd told me you were hearing voices."

"But now?" Mulder asked weakly, wondering when his boss's opinion of him had
begun to matter. For some strange reason that he'd not yet been able to
analyze, Fox Mulder found himself wanting and needing this man's approval and
respect. Perhaps it was because it was something he had never been able to get
from his own father, or from practically anyone else for that matter,
with the sole exception of Dana. Everyone needs a little validation once in a
while.

Skinner sensed Mulder's vulnerability and decided the truth would suffice. "Now?
I no longer have the luxury of unfounded skeptism. I've known and seen too much
to discount anything just because it doesn't jibe with accepted explanations for
things that I don't understand. It's a scary thing, Mulder. It's frightening to
learn at my age that everything you've been taught to believe may
be totally invalid. And frankly, I continue to be amazed at how well you adapt
when life sees fit to jerk the rug out from under you. Like a cat, you always
seem to land on your feet."

Mulder allowed a light chuckle to escape his lips. "Don't let Dana hear you say
that. It's her professional opinion that I usually end up on my back." He let
himself sink slowly into the bumpy mattress. "Case in point."

Skinner dragged his weary butt over the only chair in the room and plopped down.
He reached for the phone. "I'm going to call Scully before the bastards have
time to put a tail on her and let her know where we are. She should be
finishing up with Ms. Morgan by now."

Mulder tensed. "She didn't go alone, did she?"

"No, of course not," Skinner replied. "Moorehouse went with her, so relax.
He's an obnoxious s.o.b. but I can tell he's a good man. And for some reason he
actually seems to like the two of you. He'll watch her back as well as you can.
What you need to do right now, and don't fight me on this because I guarantee
you'll lose, is get some rest. We may have to move quickly and you won't be any
good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

"Yes, Mother Skinner," Mulder grumbled. "I'll take my nappie like a good little
boy as long as I get milk and cookies when I wake up."

"The only thing I could possibly get in this place would be a granola bar and
carrot juice." Skinner looked at a brochure by the phone advertising mud baths
and massages. There was no mention of food anywhere. "Maybe," he amended.

Mulder sighed as his thick lashes fluttered softly and shut out the artificial
light. "Close enough, sir...." His voice drifted off and transformed itself
into a light snore.

Skinner reached for the ancient rotary phone and dialed Dana's cellular number.

Lily Morgan's apartment
Reno, NV
***********************

Lily peeked out through the peekhole in her door and sighed heavily. She knew
Moorehouse would be back, she just didn't think it would be this soon. Maybe she
shouldn't have kept his card. Maybe it was bad karma or something.

She listened to the voices outside her door, his clearly identifiable. The
other voice was female but she couldn't see anyone besides Moorehouse. Shit,
he'd brought someone else with him this time.

Mr. Simons had retreated to her bathroom when the heavy knock on her door had
first sounded What was she going to do about him? There was nowhere else he
could hide in her apartment. She hoped no one asked to use the bathroom while
he was still here.

Lily could understand the man wanting to hide from Reno's criminal element, but
she had a sinking feeling that he hadn't been totally truthful with her.
Apparently her impromptu houseguest was also hiding from the police as well.
She couldn't think of any other reason for them to be here. Well... she
*could", but she adamantly refused to let that thought go any farther.

She didn't need this. She was probably in enough trouble as it was with tacking
on aiding and abetting. No sir, Mr. Simons was definitely going to have to find
somewhere else to hide out if she managed to avert this disaster.

Lily straightened her dress and took a quick glance in the mirror before going
to the door. The last time Detective Moorehouse been here she'd looked a mess.
Sure, the man was just here to ask her another bunch of questions but it never
hurt to look presentable. There was something about him that had made her think
of him more than once in the last couple of days. Maybe it was his eyes. He
had kind and forgiving eyes, something she'd never seen in her husband. Even
when the detectives had questioned her before, there was something about the man
that made her feel safe.

<You're grasping at straws, Lily. The man was just doing his job.> She sighed
and reached for the door. She'd be lucky if he didn't throw her in jail, much
less notice how she looked.

Moorehouse raised his big hand to pound on the door again when he heard the
door creak and the chain slide off. "Ms. Morgan," Jake said as the woman before
him opened the door wider and studied the two people in the hall. "Sorry to
bother you on your day off, but I have a few more questions that I need to ask
you. This is Agent Dana Scully with the FBI."

<FBI???!!! Christ! The FBI??? What had Mr. Simons gotten himself into??> Lily
was suddenly very glad she still had the door to hold onto.

"Ms. Morgan?" Agent Scully was saying. Shit, she missed something. She saw the
two exchange a glance. "May we come inside?"

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry," she stammered, moving out of the way. She wasn't
handling this well. "It's just not everyday I meet someone from the FBI."

"I think you met my partner this morning," Scully replied. "In the coffee
shop?"

"Your partner," Lily repeated, understanding dawning. "Oh. You're his...
partner. Right. I hope you took it easy on him. He really did try to get you
the calamari you wanted. He seems like a very sweet man."

"Pardon me?" Scully asked, remembering her room service meal in the wee hours of
the morning. What was this woman talking about? Whatever, it would have to
wait. They were here on business, and midnight runs for calamari were not the
business at hand.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" Lily asked, looking back and forth
between the two of them.

"No, you didn't," Jake assured her. "Agent Scully's partner was attacked
today."

Lily glanced at Agent Scully. The woman was shorter than she was, but Lily had
no doubts that Agent Scully could be just as formidable as any man she'd ever
met. Her husband had been attacked, yet here she was out working. "I'm sorry
about your partner," Lily murmured, wishing with all her might for just
one-tenth of this woman's fortitude.

"Thank you," Scully replied. "Unfortunately, that's not all. A hotel executive
is missing. We feel that both men have been targeted by whoever is responsible
for the murders that have been occurring over the past few weeks."

Targeted? Did she say "targeted?" Oh good lord, what had Mr. Simons gotten her
into? If they found him here -- whoever or *what*ever they turned out to be --
she knew they wouldn't hesitate to plow through her to get to him. Her knees
suddenly felt very weak.

"Would you like to sit down?" she asked, turning toward her tiny kitchen table.
She needed to sit down very badly, and she just hoped they would see it as
courtesy and not imminent panic.

"Thank you," Scully said again, taking a seat across from her, with Moorehouse
in between the two of them. From where she was sitting, Lily could see her
closed bathroom door. She prayed that Mr. Simons would stay quiet.

"Ms. Morgan, we need you to recount your exit from the casino on the night of
the last murder one more time," Moorehouse said. "Don't leave anything out no
matter how small or insignificant. You may have seen something without
realizing it. Let us decide what's important. Please. Many lives could depend
on this."

"Ok," she said, nodding her head and looking down at her hands. "But I really
didn't see anything." Well, that was sort of true. She didn't see anyone kill
that man, and they sure as hell wouldn't believe what she had seen. After two
days, she'd nearly convinced herself that she hadn't really seen it.

When Lily looked up, she saw Jake staring at her leg. <Oh, God... he's seen the
scars.> Her skirt had slid up when she sat down, and from where he was sitting
he had a perfect view of the ugly red marks on her legs. She pulled her skirt
down over her knees in an attempt to cover them, but it was too late.

Dana raised a questioning eyebrow in Jake's direction and he shrugged.

"Look, Lily, I know why you don't want to talk to us," Jake said, aware that
he'd slipped and called her by her first name, which was how he'd been thinking
of her for the last two days. He saw her stiffen at his words, the color
draining from her face, but he knew he had to do this if they were ever going to
get through to her.

"I know you're tired of running and hiding, but it's time to stop now, ok? I
did a background on you, just like all the other Red Sands' night shift
employees. I know about your husband. That sorry excuse for a human being
isn't going to ever beat on anybody ever again, so it's time to stop running.
It's time to face happened and help us. He can't hurt you anymore."

<Oh, sweet Jesus!!! He knows... Oh god, he knows!> Lily's remaining self-control
shattered and she dissolved into tears. "I didn't mean it," Lily sobbed. "It
was an accident. I didn't mean to kill him..."

"What??" Jake and Scully asked in muted shock. This was not the response they
expected.

"I didn't mean to do it," she whimpered. "He... he came at me with a knife. I
was just so scared, I thought he was going to kill me, and I didn't know what to
do, I didn't know I hit him that hard... and he wouldn't wake up...oh God!!"
She knew she was babbling but now that she'd started, she just couldn't stop.
She hid her face in her hands, waiting for them to cuff her and take her away.

"Wait a minute," Jake interrupted. "You think YOU killed your husband?"

Lily looked up with puffy red-rimmed eyes. "What... what... what do you mean?
I did... didn't I?"

Moorehouse stole a glance in Scully's direction then back at Lily. "No, Lily,
you didn't. Sorry
bastard was knifed to death in a barroom brawl about a month ago. You mean to
tell me you've been hiding all this time because you thought you'd killed the
son of a bitch?"

Lily nodded her head. "I thought I killed him," she whispered.

Moorehouse smiled. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said gently. "I'm sure the guy got
what he deserved, but YOU didn't have the honors." Moorehouse looked around the
tiny apartment and spotted what he was after on a table by her bed. He fetched
the box of tissue, put it on the table in front of Lily, and after a soft,
comforting touch on her shoulder he sat back down at the table.

Scully raised an eyebrow. Moorehouse being a gentleman? And he probably hadn't
even realized he'd touched her. There was certainly more here than met the eye.

"All this time," Lily said shakily reaching for a tissue. "I thought I had to
hide, that the police were looking for me." She blew her nose and dabbed at her
eyes. "And then I had nightmares that he *wasn't* dead, but was hunting me
down." She looked at Moorehouse. "So then I'm not in trouble?"

"No, you're not in trouble," he replied. "Now, why don't you tell me what you
saw that morning."

Lily described all that she could -- the exploding neon sign, the thin beam of
light that hit Mr. Harris in the chest, the long dark figure retreating in the
shadows. They hadn't laughed at her or called her crazy, but she didn't think
she'd been much help. Still, Detective Moorehouse beamed proudly at her like
she'd just saved the day anyway. She could like this man... he kind of grew on
you.

"You said a casino executive was missing?" she finally got up enough courage to
ask. "Who?"

"Scott Simons," Scully replied. "Do you know him?"

Lily nodded. "He used to come in the coffee shop every morning, had the same
thing for breakfast every day." She smiled shyly. "He was nice to me," she
said softly.

Scully sighed. "We think he may be in danger. It's possible that he has
information that could help us discover who's behind these murders and the
attempt on my partner's life."

"How is your partner?" she asked.

"Last time I heard, Fox was having a difficult time but he should pull through,"
Scully replied.

"Fox? He told me his name was Mulder."

"That's his first name. He doesn't like it very much but I think it sounds
beautiful."

Lily looked at Scully, carefully considering her words. "I probably shouldn't
say anything, but you've got a real gem there. He's an angel. Take if from me
-- I know what a devil is and he's about as far away from that as you could
possibly get."

Scully wondered exactly what Mulder had said to this woman. It was obvious now
that he'd told her they were more than partners. "He must have made some
impression," she commented.

"Yes, he did," Lily replied. In fact, they had all made an impression on her.
Maybe cops weren't as bad as she thought.

Scott listened to the conversation through the door, careful to avoid making any
noise. He'd wanted Agent Mulder's help, but now it seemed as though the agent
needed some help of his
own. No matter how this turned out Dr. Scott Simons was going to have to
disappear for a very long time.

He made a decision. As soon as the cops left, he would write an explanation of
what he had found on that fateful night, what he had done, how he had used it,
and who the technology belonged to. He'd figure out a way to get it to Agent
Mulder without involving Lily. Given what he'd just heard of her past, it was
amazing that she'd agreed to help him this much. He couldn't ask any more of
her.

He had no doubts that Agent Mulder was the man to give this information to.
Maybe he'd believe him, maybe he wouldn't. Scott bet he would. In the long
run, it really didn't matter. But the man had been used and abused in this mess
and Scott felt obligated to at least give him an explanation.

Amazing. It appeared he had a conscience after all.

Scully's coat pocket trilled with a familiar sound. She pulled out the phone
with practiced grace.

Moorehouse didn't like the frown that marred that angelic face. Something was
wrong. He could always tell. "What is it?"

"We've got a problem, a big problem." Scully nearly bulldozed Jake through the
front door, turning over her shoulder only long enough to apologize for their
abrupt retreat. "Ms. Morgan. If you think of anything else, please call us.
Thank you for your cooperation."

"You still have my card?" Moorehouse asked Lily.

"Yes," she said. "I still have it."

"Good," Moorehouse said. "If you need to, or want to... use it."

Lily smiled a little. "I will."

"Moorehouse!!" Scully's voice echoed up the stairwell. "Move it!"

Scully headed for the driver's seat, but Moorehouse cut her off. "I'm driving!"
she yelled.

"Not in this lifetime, Red," he bellowed back.

"We need to get there today, Moorehouse," she spat angrily.

"Whatever it is, we need to get there in one piece," he countered as he opened
the passenger door and gently shoved her in.

"You'll pay for that," she warned.

"I know," he answered warily. "What's going down?"

"Black ops tried to take Mulder. Skinner managed to get him out of the hospital
and to the Stargate Motel. Drive the long way and down quiet streets. I don"t
want to take the chance of being followed."

"Yes, ma'am. Anything for you."

**********************************************

CHAPTER 19

The Sacrifice

Stargate Motel
Reno, NV
********************

Skinner watched Mulder twist and turn fitfully in his sleep, a light sheen of
perspiration beading on his dreaming face. The man obviously had a temperature
but he was no doctor and couldn't judge if it had a physical cause or not. Dana
should be here soon. She better be. He didn't know how long it would be until
their location was compromised and he wasn't equipped to handle black ops
firepower.

Tires squealed in the parking lot. Skinner jolted from his seat and peeked
through the faded curtains. Thank god. Scully.

Someone shook his shoulders and for a brief moment, Fox Mulder forgot where he
was let alone who he was with. "Come on Mulder, rise and shine. The little
woman has come to kiss it and make it better," Skinner teased.

"Yeah, well...I'll tell you what you can kiss, sir," Mulder grumbled testily
while rising slowly from the bed. It would be heaven to be allowed to just wake
up on his own for once without someone rousting him from his sleep.

"Don't make an offer that you're not prepared to fulfill," Skinner retorted.

Luckily a strong rap on the door prevented any further escalation of suggestive
replies. Skinner cautiously allowed the two visitors access.

"Have you been followed?" Skinner asked.

"I don't think so, sir," Scully replied, "but it's difficult to tell. Once you
get out this far there's only one road to this place, so there's not much chance
to throw somebody off your tail. Besides, these guys are experts."

"Maybe we need to vacate the premises as quickly as possible, regroup somewhere
else, and then decide on a course of action," Moorehouse said.

"Sounds like a plan," Mulder commented with his usual aplomb.

Scully smiled at the sound of his voice and sat next to him on the bed. "You
ok?" she inquired softly while caressing his cheek lightly with her fingers.

"I'm fine... now that you re here," he added with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Come on, Sherlock, let's get the hell out of Dodge."

Skinner took a quick look through the smeared window pane, opened the door, then
slipped outside. Good. "Looks like the coast is clear."

Moorehouse emerged next, followed by a limping Mulder and Scully. They a
pproached their cars without incident but Mulder glanced about suspiciously.
"This is way too easy," he complained. "Nothing I'm involved in ever goes this
smoothly. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Mulder, just shut up and get in the car," Jake admonished.

"I'm telling you..." Mulder never finished. A red dot appeared in the middle
of Moorehouse's chest and Mulder, reacting out of instinct, shoved the big man
down with all his might as the sound of rifle fire echoed through the night air.
"Get down!!" he screamed unnecessarily.

He crawled toward Dana who was also hugging the pavement face down. "Dana?" He
was only a short distance away, but continuing fire made it impossible to reach
her. "Dana, answer me!!" he pleaded, panic now evident in his quivering voice.

"Mulder! Stay down!" Skinner's strong voice ordered, but he knew that the order
would go unheeded. Sure enough, Mulder began crawling toward Scully. Skinner
saw a red dot appear in the middle of Mulder's forehead. "MULDER!"

Screams suddenly filled the blackness. Weapons fire ceased and the generic
faces of men in black suits stumbled forward into the parking lot, holding their
wounded hands and arms. They were followed by two men and a woman.

The unusual looking couple came forward and studied the scene before them with
abhorrence and concern. "We regret we arrived too late to prevent this," the man
said. "The only way we could see to end this without further bloodshed was to
overheat the weapons they held."

"Who are you?" Skinner asked.

Tia glanced at her partner. "Visitors," she replied. It was the answer decided
upon if they were ever pressed to reveal their natures. "We have come to ask
for what is ours."

An older man stood away from the visitors and bided his time among the shadows.
Skinner thought he looked vaguely familiar. But there was no time to figure it
out now. Mulder. He hadn't heard a word from Mulder and the last time he'd
seen him, he'd been in someone's cross hairs. He turned to check on him and
what he saw tore out his heart.

Mulder sat limply on the pavement, holding Dana in his arms. Her lifeblood was
seeping through her blouse just below her waist, black in the harsh glow of the
streetlight. His stare was blank and
lifeless, his spirit unaccepting.

Tia walked toward the young man. "You know what must be done," she said without
preamble. "You know what we ask."

Mulder looked up at her with hollow eyes. If he did what he knew he must, his
life was also forfeit for he did not wish to live without her. His heart ached
for the children he would never know and the wife he would never hold or touch
or love again. His soul mourned with an infinite wail of utter desolation for
the loving family in the life that now would never be.

Because he had the power to save her, and he knew he couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Dana," he sobbed with great heaving gasps as he rocked his wife
gently in his arms, his face buried in her hair. "I'm so goddamn sorry. Sorry
that I couldn't stop myself for loving you, sorry that I have brought you to
this. Oh god, why did you love me?"

Tears blurred his vision as he lifted his face toward Tia's bright countenance.
"I could use this power to save her, couldn't I?" he asked. He already knew the
answer, but he had to hear it from someone other than the voices in his head.

"Yes, you could," Tia confirmed. "But doing so would constitute a refusal to
return the Prototype to the Collective. We would not have the right to ask
again. The knowledge and power would remain with you until it was forcibly
extracted from you by other darker forces. That would not only destroy those
you cherish, but would also let loose the vile monster of
destruction they would create with that knowledge, and they would be free to
plunder and maim those innocents who remained."

In his heart he knew the consequences of such a selfish choice. Mulder could
not allow this kind of power to fall into the hands of those who would use its
knowledge to unleash an unholy evil on an unsuspecting world.

Mulder leaned forward over the unconscious woman he embraced protectively in his
arms, threw back his head and cried out with an anguish that had festered within
his soul for nearly thirty years. With an openness born of despair, he allowed
the protective walls he'd so expertly erected around his psyche to crumble like
Jericho, baring all that he was to the strange female whose delicate hands
hovered expectantly above his forehead.

Tia held her breath. Even in this bruised and battered state, he was beautiful
by any standard -- alien or human. Liquid green-flecked pools submissively held
her gaze as full, perfect lips trembled with the effort to maintain some
semblance of dignity. She appraised him silently for several seconds, noting
with admiration his silky dark hair, the fine classic bone structure of cheek
and jaw, and the lithe athletic body that presently was acting as a protective
shield for the young woman now occupying his lap.

What intrigued her most, however, was not anchored in the physical realm --
though she found this aspect of him to be impressive -- but in the undaunted,
fiery spirit she encountered as she prepared to touch him. She sensed the
darkness in his soul that he fought to vanquish on a daily basis. She marveled
at his honesty, courage, loyalty, and capacity for an emotion called
"love." Finally, she understood Dr. Jay's fierce devotion to this man and his
obsessive need to protect him.

Slowly she lowered her hands to caress the warm, soft skin of his forehead,
gently asking permission to go farther.

"Do it," Mulder whispered with resignation. "Do it before I change my mind."
His voice choked as unshed tears broke free to trickle down his face in flowing
rivulets, only to catch and sparkle in Dana's red, glowing tresses like dew
drops on a spider's web.

Skinner watched the scene from his impromptu perch on the doorstep with infinite
sadness, uncertain as to whether or not he actually believed what his senses
were telling him. What he was experiencing was taking him down a road he
suspected he didn't want to travel. But he knew, for Mulder's sake, that he
would stay and witness whatever implausible possibilities the young man would
have to endure. Quietly supportive, he would let Mulder know that he was there
for him.

"You must act swiftly, Tia," Johnny urged. "The Others will be here soon and
the host is still vulnerable to attack."

Tia cupped Mulder's face in her hands, her fingertips lightly brushing up the
finely sculpted cheekbones to rest against his temples. Tia firmly pressed her
fingers into the pressure points and gasped as the first electrical charge
surged through her consciousness. "He is not the host, Johnny --- he is Fox,"
she cooed softly with affection.

Dr. Jay reverently bowed his head and in the midst of his sorrow found within
his ancient heart a reason to smile. Tia understood.

The scene became surreal as their clothes and hair whipped about them in
murderous frenzy, victims of the man-made cyclone created by the rotations of
numerous helicopter blades. Like huge black wasps, the machines hovered over
the ground, seeking a spot to land, then gently set down.

"Stop her!" a high, thin voice screamed over the artificial thunder. Dozens of
tall, thin figures in black rushed toward the small group huddled in front of
the cheap motel room with the splintered door.

Drawing his weapon, Skinner stood in a defensive position by the door. Jake,
who had been observing the odd proceedings in a dreamlike haze suddenly found
his feet and flanked Skinner on the right. Two against...how many? Not good
odds, but Skinner'd be damned if he'd go down without a fight.

"Nooo...!!" Johnny yelled at them above the noise. "Put your weapons away!!
You don't know what you are dealing with. Trust me, please!"

Skinner and Moorehouse exchanged a look. Then to Johnny's surprise, they
lowered their guns and moved to place themselves between the trio on the ground
and their advancing attackers.

"Now!" Johnny cried. "Do it now! Tia!! There is no time to do this gently."

Tia resisted the urge to hurry, easing herself past this one's protective walls
and barriers. He had trusted her and offered himself up for sacrificial
tribute. She would not betray that trust by ripping through his mind.

Moving down her link farther into his mind, she searched only for the memories
that were not his own and was rewarded with the familiar mind-voice of her own
kind. Unaccustomed joy flooded her being and the warmth of acceptance lifted
her soul. Acknowledging the frantic pitch of her partner's voice, she realized
there would be little or no time to prepare Fox for their hasty withdrawal.

"I am sorry, friend. I fear this will not be pleasant."

Dr. Jay fidgeted as the Others bore down on their position. He hated fidgeting.
It was so damn...adolescent. Tia needed more time and time was quickly running
out. If the transference occurred too quickly the boy could be severely damage.
"Oh, bloody hell. Just what I need -- another opportunity to defy authority and
act irresponsibly." Perhaps a nice natural phenomena, he pondered, hurriedly
rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Yes, that's it...a sudden
storm...lots of lightening. Well, stranger things had happened without any help
from him. Fine. He couldn't use his energy to heal but he was quite certain
that selective environmental manipulations had never entered into the
conversation. In this case, mother nature only needed a little incentive and he
was just the individual to give her a shove.

The Others ran toward the group in a formation that reminded Dr. Jay of a wave,
a very dark wave. The physical laws of this world had once stated that fire and
water didn't mix. That law was about to be tested to its fullest extent as Dr.
Jay concentrated his energy. The air around him crackled with an electrical
charge.

The first of the dark figures stepped within a few yards of his friends. "Now
*that* was definitely a mistake," he accused with an attitude that bordered on
nonchalance. A loud crack sounded through the night air as a large bolt of
light and heat surged to the ground before their enemies, throwing many of the
beings back several feet and to the ground.

"In every age there is a man with vision," Dr. Jay mused. "Here is yours," he
muttered with satisfaction as another lightening bolt descended, exploding into
a wall of flame. "Hmm..." he hummed to himself, turning toward a very startled
Johnny. Raising one eyebrow curiously, Dr. Jay exclaimed, "yet another
successful scientific experiment completed, my friend. It is truly a fact.
Fire does not mix with water...or Others for that matter. Tia? Could you
please expedite the procedure if possible? I am experiencing a serious energy
drain."

Tia, aware that she'd been given the time she needed to complete the transfer
properly, carefully severed the threads of communication that bonded this ;man
to the Prototype, the Collective, and herself. Carefully, she withdrew from his
mind leaving him alone once more, separate unto himself to cope with his own
thoughts and emotions. "It is finished," she announced.

Mulder's head dropped forward with exhaustion and his broad shoulders sagged in
defeat. He was pale and shocky and didn't even register the presence of Skinner
or Moorehouse as they crouched down beside him.

Dr. Jay uttered a deep sigh and the wall of fire disintegrated into the night
mist. What he assumed to be angry faces pushed forward and into his space. The
small man looked up into the Emperor's blazing eyes and smiled cordially. "My,
my, my...due to adverse weather conditions, it seems that you have arrived just
a tad late to partake in the festivities. What a shame."

The Emperor shook with rage. "Since when have the Collective renounced their
stand on non-interference?" The being screamed. "I will inform the elders of
your transgressions."

"Oh, dear," Dr. Jay replied. "As they say in this ...um...oh yes...neck of the
woods, here's a quarter, tell someone who cares." Dr. Jay glared up at the
taller being, his eyes ablaze. "And I am not aware that we have renounced our
stand. In this instance, an attack on these persons, especially Fox, for
obvious reasons, could be construed as an offense against the welfare of the
Collective. We, of course, could not let such an affront go unchallenged...now,
could we?"

The tall, thin being retreated at the vehemence in the little man's voice.

"Agent Mulder's presence here was merely a fortunate coincidence," the dark voice lisped.
"You can't prove otherwise. It was your malfunctioning Prototype that brought
him here, not us."

Dr. Jay lifted his other eyebrow. "Oh, really? The Prototype would have never
killed anyone without justifiable cause. You, however, saw your opportunity as
soon as the craft crashed. I also have no doubts that you were quite aware of
Dr. Simons' location at all times. If you were not..then you are more of a
clone head than I gave you credit for. You used Simons' operation to set the
stage and murdered those people in a manner unconventional enough to attract
attention, probably with the weapon that now hangs by your side.":

The being dropped his hand to his side in a threatening manner.

"I might add," Dr. Jay added quickly, "that using that weapon against the
Collective would be deemed an open act of hostility, and we both know that would
be an unfortunate action on your part. The Collective would then be forced to
retaliate, something I am certain that you would wish to avoid at all cost."

The being's hand slid reluctantly back to his waist.

"After you disposed of those poor people, you had your government contacts
request that Agent Mulder be assigned to the case, knowing full well that the
Prototype would seek out the closest compatible mind available. Of course, you
neglected to inform your smoking friend of your actions or intentions, but being
the clever fellow that he is -- he figured it out and warned Mr. Skinner, hoping
to pick up the pieces when the dust had cleared. Though I find the little
twists and turns of this disgusting drama illuminating, I am abhorred that
innocent being have died, lives have been ruined, and hearts broken because of
your greed and megalomania. The Prototype no longer resides with Agent Mulder.
Leave here. Get out of my sight before I am forced to reduce your worthless
carcass to a puddle of organic black sludge."

"You have not heard the last of this!" The being snarled.

Dr. Jay turned his back on this despicable collection of outworlders "For your
sake, I hope that I have," he hissed.

The thin shadows retreated back into the black night, leaving the way they had
come. The gunmen had long since left the scene, realizing that without their
firepower, they were no match for beings who could control lightening and fire.

Fox Mulder sat frozen in a position of inconsolable grief. He neither felt nor
heard the offerings of consolation and compassion the two men at his side had
tried to give him. His wife and child were dying in his arms and there was no
miracle he knew of that could hold them to this world.

"Help her...help them, please, someone...please," he begged. "Take my life...everything I am...You can give her my life--I know you can. Please don't
let them die," he pleaded. "Dana, don't leave me alone," Mulder cried softly
into her hair.

Dr. Jay placed a hand gently on Tia's shoulder and squeezed. Tia nodded in
agreement, much to the consternation of her practical and conservative partner.
"I do not have the power to save them, Fox," Dr. Jay said sadly. "But..."

"No, Tia, you can't," Johnny said nervously. "It is forbidden to interfere."

"By whose decree?" she asked with new found irritation.

"By the elders!"

Tia smiled. "I think it is time for me to be responsible for my *own* co
nscience. This is right, Johnny." Tia moved before this unique human being and
took his hand in her own to make the connection. "Fox?" she whispered softly,
her voice soothing, silvery like the flutter of a butterfly wing. "What we are
about to do must go no further than us and these witnesses."

Mulder looked into her tearful eyes with honest confusion.

"You have a gift," she explained. "To a much lesser degree than mine, but it is
there nonetheless." Tia took his face in her hands, forcing him to focus on
what she was telling him. "You feel what others feel -- you can place yourself
in their thoughts and know their fear, their pain, and their anger. In your
work, they call it a talent -- call if spooky.'"

"How do you...?"

"I saw it in your thoughts," she replied. "Do not fear your gift, Fox. You
will need every ounce of it if this is to work. My gift is not as great as
others. I am not a designated healer. You will have to help me. You must make
her accept me if this is to be successful. Do you understand?"

Mulder nodded. "I would do *anything* for her," he gasped hoarsely. "Give
anything..."

"Then take my hand," she instructed. "Let go of your grief and fear, and
concentrate on your joy, your love. Focus your strength. Give her your
strength and help me bring her home to you."

Tia took his hand once more and felt his strength and love surge through the
link. He would give it all to bring er home. Tia took special precautions to
make certain that he didn't.

She was not a trained healer and Johnny had no healing talent at all, but Mulder
-- Mulder was gifted. Naturally, his talent appeared less than hers for it was
a totally human trait that was largely left ignored and undeveloped. Yet this
man's force of passion was such that the raw power evoked from within, though
untrained, could easily match her own. Tia needed his relentless will and his
faith to make this work.

Dr. Jay nodded his approval as Tia drained the energy from the distraught young
man by her side, combined it with her own, and discharged its healing power
through her outstretched palm and into Mulder's dying wife. She felt the
struggling newly emerging life within this woman become healthy and whole
beneath her touch. The womb she healed was her own. The life she spared was
her body and spirit and she would never feel separate from these people again.
An emotion flooded her being, lifting her higher than she thought possible, and
her connection with Mulder provided her with a name for a feeling she had never
really known...joy! How could this feeling possibly be wrong?

Dana's eyes fluttered open in response, focusing on her husband with instinctive
concern. Memories of what had happened to her crashed through her brain and she
clutched at her abdomen out of protective reflex. "Mulder?" she asked, staring
into his tear-streaked face. "What...?" She looked up at Tia. "Who are you?"
She felt so strange.

"Dana," Tia whispered, mimicking the affection she'd heard in Mulder's voice.
"The life within you is safe and whole. Do not despair."

"Thank you," Dana replied with a grateful heart, staring down at her bloody
clothes. Blood. Her blood...but how?

Tia smiled. "I did not act alone."

"This one," she spoke softly with awe and wonder, "this one offered his life not
only for those he loved...but even for the many who had hurt him, and for the
innocent beings he'd not yet known. I am humbled. It is for this reason that I
have defied the elders by my interference." She lifted her face to Dr. Jay and
unleashed a radiant smile. "Thank you, sir. I understand."

Johnny was not certain that he agreed with Tia's actions, nor did he completely
comprehend whatever it was that she thought she understood, but he trusted her
enough to accept what she believed. This little aspect of their mission would
remain unreported.

"Dana?" Mulder rasped, weakly gliding his thumb over her bottom lip. The dried
blood on her lips and the blood soaked thighs of her jeans appeared to be the
only remaining evidence of her injuries. She spent the best part of the next
five minutes trying to reassure Mulder that she wasn't going to die.

"Mulder, I fell fine. I don't know how, but I'm okay. We're both okay."

"I've heard that before," he shot back unconvinced. "You're going to the
hospital."

"I don't think I need to," she stammered, jutting out her chin defiantly. "Ask
Dr. Jay."

Mulder, now fully alert, turned his head in the direction of his unusual friend
who shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny.

"Well?" Mulder asked.

"Oh my --it seems I'm running late for a previous appointment, dear boy. I have
to ...uh...stop a war, uh...wash my hair and...feed the dog," he muttered as he
quickly walked away, dragging his two little buddies behind him.

"You don't have a dog," Mulder growled, forcing himself unsteadily to his feet
and pulling Scully up with him. He heard a loud chuckle.

"I'll get one!" the little man yelled as he rounded the corner and disappeared
out of sight.

"Chicken shit!" Mulder yelled after him, suffering an involuntary coughing fit
as soon as the words came out.

Scully smiled at him. "I just want to go to our hotel room, get naked, get
clean, and go to bed. Mulder, I'm a doctor, and I'm telling you that we're
okay. Ok?"

Skinner leaned tiredly against the chipped paint of the Stargate Motel and
massaged his aching temples. These two deserved each other. A miracle had just
occurred, yet they were quibbling with each other over who should go to the
hospital. "Deja vu" "this argument has a very familiar ring to it, Agent Mulder.
Didn't we discuss a similar situation involving *you* earlier today?"

Mulder's shoulders drooped. Sure, he hadn't wanted to go to the hospital - he
was *always* in the hospital. But this was different - this was Dana he was
talking about. Dana and their child.

"Please? Dana, just get checked out. For me. Goddamn it, you nearly died," his
voice choked and the last word caught in his throat. Tears welled up in his
beautiful eyes and his hand trembled as he brushed the hair from her forehead.

For the first time that night, Dana leaned back and took a good, long look at
her spouse and shuddered. She had been unconscious during whatever ordeal he'd
endured. It had obviously affected him deeply, both physically and emotionally.
She'd been too caught up with worry for her baby to notice his distress. Now
she realized that the man she loved, standing shakily before her, was exhausted
to the point of collapse. Mulder was in greater need of a hospital than she
was, though he would never admit to it. In fact, to her knowledge, he had never
been officially discharged.

Dana turned toward Skinner and gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Maybe I do feel
just a little tired," she lied.

Skinner lifted his head with a surprised jerk. What's this? Then he caught the
glint of mischief in her eyes and covered his chuckle with a manufactured cough.

"You're coming too, right?" she asked in a small, pleading voice. "Ok, this was
dirty pool" She felt great -- better than she had in months. In fact, she might
have been more concerned about how well she felt if she hadn't known that her
benefactor was a friend of Dr. Jay's. She had seen that little man work
miracles of his own in the past, and she surprised herself at how accepting
she'd become of him and his strange ways. Not to mention his strange friends.

Now here she was fibbing to Mulder about how she felt. She felt guilty about
that, but it was the only way to get him back to the hospital without a major
fight. Hell, that alone would be worth the customary exam she'd have to endure.

"Just let them try to keep me away," he grinned in relief, pulling her closer
just to prove to himself that she indeed, was unharmed. "Thank you" he offered
to his absent friends.

"You're welcome" came the unexpected reply in his head.

He owed Tia, the Collective, and Dr. Jay a debt of gratitude that he felt could
never be repaid. However, they did not fail to realize that the Collective
largely owed their continued existence to him and his unselfish act of
sacrifice. *They* would not forget. Fox Mulder would always remain a part of
their memory until the last of their kind had vanished into dust.

Emergency Room
Sacred Heart Hospital
Reno, NV
********************
"Agent Mulder! Will you please sit down?" Skinner growled in exasperation.
"Limping up and down the hallway is not going to expedite matters in the least
--believe me."

Jake arose slowly from his chair and stretched his tired overworked muscles.
Wherein the hell the kid got this much energy was way beyond his ability to
comprehend. Any normal human being would probably have been reduced to a
quivering gelatinous mass after surviving an ordeal of this magnitude. But not
the kid --no, not him. He had to painfully pace every inch of the corridor and
annoy the medical staff with repeated questions they could not yet answer.

Jake caught Skinner's concerned glance and held it before he shrugged his big
shoulders in reluctant resignation. Skinner nodded in silent agreement. There
was nothing to do with the man until he stopped on his own or dropped from sheer
physical and mental stress.

"Jesus Christ Almighty, Mulder, you're making me dizzy," Jake complained.

"Then don't watch!" Mulder snapped. He was suddenly ashamed of himself.
Bowing his head, he leaned heavily against the wall for support. "I'm sorry,
Jake. It's just...you know, I'm just..."

"Stressed out," Jake finished for him with an understanding smile.

"Just a little," Mulder admitted, noticing for the first time the large c
omforting hand of A.D. Skinner squeezing his shoulder lightly in commiseration.

"I think in this case, Agent Mulder, there is just cause," Skinner said. He
grasped Mulder's elbow and led the slightly punch-drunk man to a nearby chair.
"Sit," Skinner ordered, gently pushing the younger man down into the seat.
"Working yourself into a frenzy is not going to help you, Dana, or the baby so
try and clam down."

Mulder took a deep, cleansing breath. "You're right, sir," he agreed. "I've
just never been very good at waiting."

Christ!! Moorehouse though, at least the bossman managed to get the kid to stop
that infernal pacing. It was beginning to make him hurt just to watch Mulder
struggle up and down the damn hallway. "Well, you'd better get used to it,
kid," Moorehouse said. J"Or it's gonna be a long few months waiting for that
baby to get here."

Finally the door to the ER bay opened and a tall, spectacled man in green scrubs
emerged into the muted light.

"Mr. Mulder?" he called out, searching the faces of the three disheveled men
occupying the small waiting area at the end of the corridor.

Mulder shot up from his seat as though shocked by a cattle prod, rising a little
more quickly than his taxed body's ability to adjust. A wave of dizziness and
nausea swept through him and for a moment he thought he might be in danger of
emptying the meager contents of his stomach onto the doctor's booty-covered
shoes. Forcing down the impulse to spew, Mulder managed a muffled, "Is she all
right?"

The doctor smiled. This kind of news he could handle, and by the bedraggled
look of this young husband, he needed all the good news he could get. "I know
you said your wife received a sharp blow to the abdomen during an attempted
mugging. However, except for the residual evidence of some bleeding in the
area, I couldn't find any injury or trauma. The most damage I could attest to
would be perhaps some heavy spotting which is not entirely unusual when multiple
births are involved. She's going to be just fine, which she can tell you
herself as soon as she gets dressed."

Mulder was elated. Dana was really going to be okay. Their baby was going to
be okay too, he grinned. Something buzzed at the back of Mulder's fuzzy brain
and his eidetic memory replayed the conversation in his mind. J "You said
multiple births? Multiple??!!" he blurted out.

The doctor, who had turned to leave, stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"Twins, Mr. Mulder. Congratulations"

"Twins?" Mulder squeaked. Funny that the raw adrenaline surge that had kept
him going for the past few hours picked this particular moment to leave him high
and dry, dropping him like a bad date. Strong swimmer's legs suddenly felt like
overcooked spaghetti and wobbled ineffectively beneath his weight as the
dizziness returned to send his equilibrium listing precariously to one side.

"Whoa there," Jake laughed, catching Mulder under one arm. "Take a breath and
hold it."

Skinner reached over, grabbed Mulder's other arm and together he and Moorehouse
guided their friend back to his chair.

Several seconds later an excited feminine voice preceded an equally exuberant
young woman as she plowed through the ER door. "Oh my god, Fox, you're not
going to believe..." Her words trailed off as she witnessed two other men in
her life at the moment carefully lowering her limp and slightly dazed husband
back into his chair.

Skinner burst out laughing at Scully's initial confusion. This was just too
good. If there was any justice in this world, Mulder's kids would turn out just
like him and maybe he
d be bald too by the time he made A.D.. Ok, so it was highly unlikely that
thick mop would fall out, but he could dream. He could remember when he'd last
seen the cool and collected Fox Mulder this flustered and the sight in its own
unique way was warmly comical. "Save it, Scully," he managed to get out around
another fit of laughing. The man's just been informed that he's an all American
statistical family of FOUR. Give him a few minutes, I think he's swallowed his
tongue."

"If he does, you give him mouth to mouth," Jake retorted in mock fear while
pointedly staring at Dana's midsection. "I've seen what getting too close to
Mulder can do and I'm not taking any chances," he guffawed.

What was she going to do with them? "Stifle it," she said, not quite hiding her
good-natured grin. Kneeling in front of her shell-shocked partner, she took his
face in her hands to look him in the eyes. "Mulder?"

"Huh?"

Jesus, those beautiful hazel orbs were still a little muddy and she briefly
wondered if he was firing on all cylinders.

"Mulder!" she repeated more demandingly.

His eyes cleared to a point that she knew he was at least coherent. She watched
as he searched her face for any evidence that she could be pulling his leg --big
time. He waited for the "ha, ha, Mulder, got you good," but when no exclamation
was forthcoming, he was forced to consider the fact that she wasn't joking.
"Twins?" he asked her again with a small child-like voice.

"Yes!' she confirmed with that bright radiant smile that never failed to
illuminate his soul.

"But I didn't buy enough baby stuff," he muttered absently under his breath.
Then looking down into her upturned face, he asked with hopeful optimism, "think
we can go to Toys R Us tomorrow?"

Dana's eyes sparkled with a familiar glint. "On one condition, Sherlock," she
replied.

"What's that?" he asked apprehensively.

"That you stay here overnight for observation. Technically, you're still
admitted, you know."

Mulder frowned, pursing his lips as though the idea was leaving a sour taste in
his mouth, which it probably was. "I can buy what I want and you won't tell me
that it costs too much, I'm going to spoil the kids..."

Dana raised her hand, interrupting him before he could rattle off every phrase
she'd ever uttered concerning the subject. "I won't say a word -- promise."

A huge smile exploded across his sore and swollen face like a super nova. "Just
tonight, right?" he asked trying to clarify the deal.

Dana reached over and trailed her thumb lovingly over his cheek, playfully
ruffling his hair before dropping her hand to her side. "Just for tonight," she
promised.

"Okay," he mumbled with a pout. "I'll go peacefully.:"

Dana looked over her shoulder. Mulder hadn't noticed the hospital volunteer
waiting with a wheelchair. He got the feeling that he'd been set up, but found
that he didn't really care. Dana was ok. His *babies,* heaven help him, were
ok. Right now life was very good.

"Just no needles," he said, plopping his butt into the wheelchair. "I see
needles and the deal is off."

"We're so happy you've decided to extend your visit with us, Mr. Mulder," the
young volunteer teased. "We had your things moved to a room with windows."

"How very thoughtful. Tell me, did you also provide me with some attire with a
little more closure in the back this time?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder. The hospital gowns are all the same size and we don't
have any larger ones," she said.

"That's what they always say," he grumbled. "Personally, I think the nurses
just like looking at my ass," he grunted.

"That too," she agreed with a wink in Scully's direction. "What good is it to
be a nurse "or a volunteer for that matter" if you can't take advantage of the
perks?" she said cheerily.

"I'm a perk? But then what's my reward?" he smirked.

"We won't tell anyone about the hickey." she quipped.

Mulder felt the heat rise to his face. Whatever comment he'd planned to hit her
with fizzled out like an opened three day old bottle of pop. Yes, no doubt
about it. Dana had finally gotten even with him for the butt graffiti.

##########################################3

CHAPTER 20
Epilogue
"You and Me Against the World"

There had been so many times she had feared the darkness, so many times the
night's shadows had crept into her thoughts and imagination, transforming
themselves into monsters and demons of her own design.

It was somehow disconcerting to find out after all these years that some
monsters were real, some demons -- corporeal. On the other hand, giving
substance to these otherwise vague apparitions of evil in a unique way made them
less frightening. It was much easier to conquer the concreteness of reality
than to vanquish enemies you couldn't see or touch or even prove existed.

Scully exhaled explosively and returned her attention to the glow of her
computer screen, typing out the "official" report she'd been forced to accept.
Half way through what she considered manufactured dribble, she slammed her hands
down on the keyboard in frustrated anger. Once again -- they had no irrefutable
proof of anything.

"So this is how it ends. Even if by some miraculous turn of events, you should
discover truth, you are not allowed to officially report any of it for fear that
the number of those whom it would help would be over-shadowed by the multitudes
of those it would harm." Writ the damn report and get it over with" she thought
with disgust.

She knew the accounts in Mulder's personal journal would bear little resemblance
to the fiction as it was presented here, but Skinner had been adamant that any
deviation from the official script would not be tolerated and repercussions on a
grand scale might be implemented if they persisted. The A.D. had argued that
the truth would always be there, but trying to expose it now would only serve to
undermine their credibility to the point that when the time came for the truth
to be revealed no one would believe it. So she had come to write the "Official"
report of their investigation. Mulder could not bring himself to write the
words that the higher ups wanted to hear.

Had they the right to criticize the likes of Cancerman when they were just as
guilty of keeping quiet? But then what good would the truth be if they were
dead?

She finished the report. In it she'd labeled the deaths in Reno as accidental
and from natural causes. Natural causes - right. She snorted and tossed her
reading glasses on the desk. They still hadn't located Dr. Simons. It seemed
like he had disappeared from the face of the earth, she hoped not literally.

Well, at least something good came out of this fiasco, she thought with a grin,
Detective Moorehouse had been positively smitten with the little coffee shop
waitress, Lily Morgan. Now that the case was officially closed and she was no
longer involved as a witness, he'd decided to do something about it. At last
report he'd asked her out for dinner. The results of this meeting had yet to be
tabulated but she was sure -- given Jake's crude gift of gab -- they would all
be privy to every detail as soon as it was available. She hoped for his sake it
went well. Jake could use somebody good in his life, and she had a feeling that
Lily could use someone as good as Jake in hers as well.

All the things the public would not know. She sighed tiredly. At least she
knew for certain that there was one set of truths over which she had some
control. She had decided to tell him in the morning before the urgency left her
and the memory faded, making it easy to lose her conscience in convenient
platitudes. Fox had a right to know about the chip in his jaw and the
information Dr. Jay had imparted to her. As his wife, it was her duty and her
need to make him realize that on that fateful night so many years ago, he was as
much of a victim as his sister. Keeping this knowledge to herself would be too
much like a betrayal of trust. She would not begin her life with him with a
lie, even if it was unspoken.

Silently, Dana padded over to her unmade bed and paused/. The stress and
frustration of the day eased from her face and was gradually replaced by a look
of unconditional abiding love. The most gorgeous man she'd ever known snuggled
peacefully in her bed, the blue linen sheets hanging seductively off his naked
hips. Like a sleeping child, he clutched that silly , chubby, little teddybear
possessively to his chest. It was times like these that served to remind her of
just how much she loved this brilliant, sensitive, and totally impossible man.

The trip to Toys R Us today had proved to be the wildest ride she'd been on
since...well, since her wedding night, anyway. She'd kept her word and hadn't
said a thing even when he'd bounced down an aisle on something that resembled a
beach ball with handles. Today Toys R Us had become Fox Mulder's personal
playground and she didn't have the heart to stifle the unbridled joy that had
plastered itself across his face.

Of course, he had to buy two of everything and made it a point to explain why to
anyone who would listen. Checking out had been a nightmare. She'd considered
waiting out in the car to avoid being embarrassed by his uninhibited antics
until she was stopped by an attractive, well-dressed woman waiting behind them
in line at the cash register.

"You are so very lucky, dear," the woman had told her.

"Why?" At the moment she hadn't felt very lucky.

The woman had looked at Mulder jealously. "My husband gave me a credit card and
told me to get what I needed," she replied. "He didn't have time to waste on
such stupid things."

She'd had to turn away quickly before Mulder noticed that she had tears in her
eyes.

Dana chuckled to herself. He certainly wore himself out today. He'd played
hard, thoroughly enjoying the role of expectant father. The serene, innocent
face before her was devoid of the intensity and stress she usually found there
when he was awake. He didn't play enough, she realized. But that was all going
to change now.

Carefully, Dana slid out of her pajamas and into their bed, molding herself into
the warmth of his body. Even in his sleep he sensed her presence and pulled her
closer, slipping his arm around her far enough for his hand to rest in its usual
spot over her breast.

Chubby Bear landed haphazardly on the floor by the bed. He would sleep alone
tonight.

---The End---