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

                       The Spell Series - Compiled
 
                             By Kelli Rocherolle
                                kelli@edgenet.net

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

Anyway, here's the final Spell installment.  It started out to be an 
epilogue but turned into a full blown chapter! It's called Snapshots 
because that's exactly what it is: snapshots of their future (double 
lines indicate significant amounts of time passing). There's a small 
epilogue tacked on at the end and two more fill-in chapters after that. 

I dedicate this story to the person who challenged me to do it in the 
first place, who looked at Spell and said "This is good, Kel, but why 
don't you try taking it past that first time for a change?", to my 
husband, my best friend;  the guy who came into my life at 
seventeen and who amazingly enough still puts up with me ten years 
later!  Thanks for being there, for keeping me sane and centered 
when the job gets to be too much; thanks for encouraging me to do 
these stories, the one thing that takes my time away from you, 
because you know how much I enjoy it.  But most of all, thanks for 
making me laugh.  I love you.


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

And in the end we shall achieve in time
the thing we call Divine
When all is well and well is all for all
forever after
Living in the meantime wait and see...


Spell  14:  Snapshots

Scully adjusted her glasses and grimaced at the recipe she was trying 
to follow.  She'd promised Mulder that she would try and take on 
more of the cooking responsibilities to lighten the load, but she was 
not a natural and the kitchen was a disaster; it looked like someone 
had exploded a bag of flour in the middle of the room.  As she 
turned to rinse her hands in the sink something on the front of the 
refrigerator caught her eye-- Ben's newly constructed paper 
Christmas tree to give to his Grandma Mulder.

Mulder's mom had long since dropped any hang-ups she had about 
their relationship.  Scully knew it had happened in a single moment, 
the second she had laid eyes on her grandson.  Her only grandson...

Scully had been resting on the couch, enjoying a brief respite 
between visitors.  She didn't even think she and Mulder knew so 
many people; it seemed there was a constant influx of well-wishers 
anxious to see the baby.  But not many bothered to call first, and not 
many kept their visits short, so it was hard.  Most of the visits were 
from acquaintances at work, people they barely knew and were not 
entirely comfortable around.  So she had sighed in irritation at the 
sound of the doorbell interrupting a quiet moment while Ben 
napped.  With a small groan she stood and headed for the door, and 
was shocked to see Mulder's mom standing there; she knew she had 
been talking about flying down and visiting sometime over the next 
few weeks, but nothing had been set in stone.  So she had roused a 
sleepy Ben from his nap to meet his other grandmother.  As she 
passed him to Mrs. Mulder, the woman's eyes filled with tears.  
Scully had known what she was thinking:  he reminded her of her 
own son, of a time in her life when she herself had been the mother 
of a new baby boy.  And then she had done the most unexpected 
thing.  She had reached out for Scully and hugged her.

But that was just about four years ago.  Things had progressed from 
there, and she now considered her relationship with Mulder's mom as...
 amicable.  She smiled at the paper tree and turned back to the counter.

As Scully worked at destroying the kitchen, Mulder threw the pile of 
term papers he was grading down onto the coffee table and rubbed 
his weary eyes.  He looked up at the Christmas tree, and at his son as 
he sat on the floor with his paper and crayons just in front of it.  
Mulder marveled at the sight.  He still couldn't believe it;  that they 
had come this far.  And he was grateful every day of his life.

Ben's face was serious in the most intense concentration as he 
worked at his construction paper.  Mulder 
smiled as he watched him.  "What are you doing, Ben?"

"Making a picture."

"Can I see?"

Ben stood, crayon and paper in hand, and ran to his father.  He 
displayed his drawing.

Mulder took it from him and examined it.  "Hey that's pretty good-- 
is that the Christmas tree?"

Ben rested his elbows on Mulder's knees and propped his head up in 
his hands.  He nodded.

"This is great."

Ben's face beamed with pride.  "It's for Samantha."

Mulder rested a hand on Ben's head-- he did love his aunt.  There 
was a special bond between them; she had always been there for him 
for as long as he could remember.  "She'll love it."

"When can I give it to her?"

Mulder eyed him admonishingly.  He'd answered that question a 
million times in the past twenty-four hours.  He took hold of Ben's 
shoulders playfully and pulled him closer, leaning down until their 
foreheads were touching.  "Tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow".

Ben laughed joyously but would not be dissuaded.  His face once 
again turned serious.  "Is tomorrow coming pretty soon or in a long 
time?"

Mulder smiled at him.  "Pretty soon, I promise."    He tried to get his 
mind off the topic.  "So how's Mommy doing in the kitchen?"

Ben shrugged in response.  "I'm hungry."

Mulder strained to look into the kitchen.  "No smoke, no flames... 
looks promising, Ben."

His son regarded him quizzically.

A mischievous gleam brightened Mulder's eyes as an idea occurred 
to him.  He wondered if Ben would 
understand the message he was going to ask him to give Scully, but 
was pretty sure he wouldn't, it was safe.  "Hey Ben...I want you to go 
and give Mommy a message for me, OK?"

Ben nodded in excitement at his covert mission.

"All right.  Go tell Mommy that Santa wants to cop a feel."

Ben's brows came together, his head tilted to the side the slightest 
bit.

"Don't worry, Mommy will know what it means... go tell her, OK?"

Ben nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Not two seconds later Scully came hurrying out, wiping her hands 
with a towel.  "Mulder!"

He smiled in delight:  success.

"You can't tell him things like that!"

"He doesn't know what it means, "  he replied in defense, his smile 
wide.

She stood in front of him cleaning the last of what was supposed to 
be cookie dough from her hands.  "I don't want him to grow up 
thinking Santa's a pervert," she joked.

Mulder took hold of her wrist and gently pulled her down next to 
him.  "Well I am," he smiled.  Wrapping his arms around her, he 
drew her into a soft kiss.

Ben came back into the living room.  He stopped at the sight before 
him, clasping his hands over his eyes, a big grin on his face;  he 
always got embarrassed when they did that.

Realizing suddenly that he was there, Scully broke from the kiss.  
She smiled over at him,  her Gentle Ben.  He was such a sweet, 
sensitive child.  His beautiful eyes were windows to his emotions, 
every feeling was so clearly displayed there.  She could see the 
shadows cross them when he was troubled, gleam the brightest blue 
in moments of precious childhood joy.  "Come here, Ben," she said 
softly, motioning to him.

He smiled brightly and, being at that age where walking is a 
mundane task at best, came barreling toward her, burying his face in 
her lap.

Scully caressed his back.  "We love you."

"I know, Mommy," he said into her jeans.

She looked up at Mulder and they shared an amused smile.  
Reaching an arm out across her shoulders, Mulder pulled her against 
his chest.  He kissed her forehead.

And he was happy. 

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

Later that night when they'd finally finished putting together the toys 
from "Santa", Mulder and Scully 
collapsed on the couch and surveyed the pile of gifts.

"This is ridiculous, Scully."

She only smiled at the sight before her.

"We're spoiling him."

Her smile turned into a full grin.  "I know..."  she turned her head to 
look at him,  "isn't it great?"

He shook his head at her, suppressing his own smile.

"It's what Christmas is all about, Mulder."

"Not in my house it wasn't."  His face turned serious as he 
remembered childhood Christmases of clothes 
despite his begging for a favorite trading card or a new basketball 
hoop, Christmases of his parent's arguments, the eventual 
Christmases divided between parents after the divorce.  He reached 
over and lay a hand over Scully's.  He nodded in agreement.  "It *is* 
great."  After a few seconds he got up off the couch to put some 
music on low.  

Scully studied his back as he stood in front of the shelf turning on 
the stereo equipment.  "So, can I give you your Christmas present a 
little early?"

"Why?"

"I don't know... just because."

He shrugged his shoulders as he shuffled through a stack of CDs.  
"Sure."

"Well first you have to tell me what you want... though I can't make 
any promises."

"What are you talking about, Scully?"  He hit PLAY and the familiar 
sounds of Nat King Cole's Holiday Favorites filled the room.

"What do you want, a girl or a boy?"

She could see him freeze as his arm reached up to put the case away.  
His lower half remaining glued in place, he turned his torso quickly 
to look at her, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Scully nodded slowly at him.

His ability to move returned and he went to her, bringing her up into 
a hug and spinning her around as a thrill of elation rushed through 
him.  She held on tight and smiled against his neck.

A small voice from the doorway startled them.  "My turn Daddy!"

They stopped, Mulder released her and she slid to her feet, 
smoothing down her shirt.  

Mulder intercepted Ben just at the doorway, scooping him off the 
floor and bringing him out of the room before he could get sight of 
the piles of presents.  "You're supposed to be in bed."

Scully smiled as she heard her son's voice disappearing down the 
hallway.  "Santa won't come if you and Mommy aren't in bed, too..."

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

The scent of rain was heavy in the warm summer air.  Mulder went 
around shutting the windows of their Annapolis home as the last of 
the day's light left the sky.  As he shooed a surprisingly still-spry 
Owen from the sill and closed the window, a deep rumble of thunder 
sounded in the distance. He heard a quiet jingle of tags behind him 
as he started up the stairs, and turned to see the dog at his heels.  The 
large animal rushed past him and vanished down the upstairs hall.  
"What is this a zoo?"  Mulder muttered to himself as he headed 
upstairs to get the rest of the windows closed.  He ran into Scully at 
the top of the stairs, dressed in sweat pants and a shirt, hair still 
damp from her shower, and he remembered a night so long ago when 
the same woman had stumbled into his view wearing a crimson 
gown, her hair very much as it was now. 

He smiled, reaching out for her arm and pulling her closer.  "Hey 
lady... you look familiar..."

 "So do you.  You come here often?"  she joked back.

Mulder lay a hand gently on her cheek with his free hand.  Their 
eyes held as the love flowed between them.

Playing contentedly in his room with his little sister, Ben looked up 
at the scene in the hallway.  He watched his parents with curious 
wonder.  They would always remain somewhat of a mystery to him, 
those two inextricably linked souls.  As much as he knew his parents 
loved him more than life itself, he also knew that they were and 
would always be a couple;  that there was a bond between them that 
no one else on this earth could penetrate, let alone understand.  The 
way they looked at each other, the way they seemed to be able to 
speak volumes between them with out saying a single word was a 
source of much fascination for both he and Emma throughout their 
lives.  As the years went on, he would often have to endure teasing 
from his friends about how his parents still held hands, how they 
stole kisses when they thought no one else was watching.  And many 
years later, when he himself was becoming a young man, he would 
come across a small box in the study, like those little time capsules 
he and his friends used to bury when they were younger.  Inside he 
would find a curious collection of trinkets, like snapshots from their 
life:  a flattened bullet, a single pressed dandelion flower, a small 
silver charm with a turquoise stone in the middle, the tiniest shell he 
had ever seen.  And when he would ask his dad about it, they would 
sit on the floor for a long time as he told him the stories behind each 
item.  And Ben would begin to have an idea just how that bond 
between them had been forged.

He watched them now as they exchanged a tender kiss, then his dad 
headed for the bedroom.  Ben brought his attention back to the task 
at hand.

Scully headed down the hall and leaned against the door frame going 
into Ben's room.  "You guys are quiet."

Ben kept his eyes on the crane he was fastidiously building with 
Legos.  "Em's scared of the thunder."

"Am not,"  the four year old responded indignantly.

Scully smirked at them.  "What do you want for dinner?"

Ben looked at her uncertainly.  "You cooking tonight, Mom?"

Scully couldn't help but smile at her son's inadvertent insult.  "Yes... 
don't look so scared, Benjamin," she teased. 

He smiled back at her, that smile that was the mirror of his father's 
and always touched her heart. 

"Pizza!"  Emma contributed.

Scully shook her head as she folded her arms in front of her.  
Apparently, she was outvoted.  "Pizza?"

They both nodded at her.

"Actually, that does sound good.  Pizza it is."  Scully watched them 
as they turned their attention back to the Legos and marveled at how 
different her children were.  So much for Rousseau's Tabula Rasa.  
They both had dark hair, Ben's thick and straight like his father's, 
Emma's crowning her face in mass of wispy cork-screw curls that 
barely brushed her shoulders.  They both had their mother's pale skin 
and piercing blue eyes.  And that's where their similarities ended.  
Ben was an easy-going child, he had few problems getting along 
with his peers though he was a bit shy about making new 
acquaintances.  Emma was a different story entirely.  Where Ben had 
come into the world quietly, Emma had come into it screaming like a 
banshee.  And from that day forth she made sure everyone knew 
when she wasn't happy about something or when things weren't 
going her way.  She was a kind child, but had a fiery temper and a 
quick wit, which was apparent even from a very young age.  Her eyes 
often sparkled with mischief, much to Ben's dismay, as she loved to 
tease her big brother.  But Ben was endlessly tolerant, and they 
continued to play quietly as Scully headed downstairs to get the 
number for Famous Pizza off the fridge.

Later that night Mulder and Scully sat in the study doing some 
research for an article they were writing, one ear on Ben and Emma 
in the adjoining TV room.  They were both teaching, but had 
continued their work quietly, covertly, keeping from doing anything 
that might put their family in jeopardy was always foremost in their 
minds.  They focused mostly on research, publishing articles under 
various pseudonyms, though they were occasionally called in to 
consult on investigations by those who were aware of their 
reputation for specializing in "unusual" cases.  

Mulder shook his head slightly, unable to concentrate on the 
printouts before him.  Ben and Emma were bickering over some toy.  
It didn't happen often, but when it did, it could get ugly.  Ben was 
quiet and gentle by nature, but Emma had the devil in her and 
sometimes she just pushed her brother to his limits... and that was 
usually when all Hell would break loose.  Mulder tried to let them 
work things out for themselves;  after all, learning the fine art of 
negotiation was one of the benefits of having siblings.  But as things 
escalated, Mulder was sure that Hell was indeed approaching and he 
prepared to intervene;  Ben was fast loosing his patience and Emma 
was screaming at him the words she knew so well:

"No!  Mine!"

"Give it back, Emmie!"

"Mine!"

That was it, Ben had reached overload.  "Fine!  Take it and go away; 
go away and don't ever come back!"

Mulder stood quickly and stormed into the TV room.  He grabbed 
hold of Ben's arm and yanked him to his feet.  "Don't ever say 
anything like that to her Ben do you hear me?"

Ben stared back at his father, stunned by his anger;  he'd never seen 
him this way.  

Mulder released him and he sank back to the floor.

Scully entered quickly and knelt down beside Ben, resting a hand 
reassuringly on his back.  She extended her other hand to Emma.  
"Emma give it to me, now," she said firmly.

Emma's stubborn streak was no match for her mother's.  Another 
time, she might have been up for the challenge, but right now there 
was something in her mother's eyes that made her think better of it... 
she relinquished the toy.  Ben took it from her, no longer having any 
interest in the thing.  

Rising to her feet, Scully took Mulder's arm and pulled him out into 
the hallway with her until they were out of earshot.

He leaned back against the wall and ran his hands roughly through 
his hair as Scully stood before him, hands on her hips.

"What the hell was that about, Mulder?"  she asked in a hushed 
voice.

"Did you hear what he said to her, Scully?" he whispered fiercely 
back to her.  "He said--"

"I know what he said, look--"

"I said the same thing to Samantha, Scully..."

"So did I, Mulder.  That is NOT you and Samantha in there.  Kids 
say those things.  They're just being kids.  That's all."  She placed a 
hand soothingly on his arm.

Mulder shook his head as he studied the floor.  After a moment, he 
straightened and brushed by her, heading back for the TV room.  

Scully entered behind him, bringing Emma up into her arms.  "Come 
on Em, time for bed." 

Emma frowned, but just wasn't up for the battle tonight.  She rested 
her cheek against her mom's shoulder and reached out to her dad.  
"'Night, Daddy."

Mulder reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  "'Night, 
Em."  He leaned over and kissed her little palm.

She rubbed the hand he'd kissed over Scully's back as they headed 
down the hallway.  "Daddy's scratchy," she grumbled sleepily as they 
disappeared up the stairwell.

Mulder crouched down beside Ben.  He was quiet for several 
seconds.  Ben watched him with wide and solemn eyes.  Mulder 
offered an apologetic smile.  "I'm sorry I got so mad at you, Ben."

"I didn't mean it."

"I know.  I know you didn't mean it.  It's just... sometimes we say 
things that we don't mean but they still hurt people; and someday 
you might say something that you wind up wishing you hadn't."

Ben's face relaxed and he nodded in understanding.  

Mulder rested a hand on his shoulder and, smiling softly, pulled him 
into a hug.

But that night, a new nightmare haunted him.

He was standing in a dim, empty, nondescript room; a chamber with 
no visible walls or ceilings suspended in the middle of nowhere in 
particular.  He looked around, disoriented and confused.  Suddenly, 
a man stepped out of the blackness before him, a shadowy figure 
dressed in a dark suit.  The man in black spoke softly, calmly to him.  
"Which one do you want to give up, Mr. Mulder?"

Mulder stared at him.

"Your daughter or your son?"

He swallowed hard.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  But 
of course, he did.

"That was the deal we made with your father:  his child, then his 
grandchild."

Mulder shook his head and spoke slowly to the man.  "I didn't make 
that deal.  And you're insane if you think I'm going to honor it."

"I'm afraid there are no other options available to you."

"I won't make that choice," he said firmly, though the dread was 
swelling in his stomach.

The man shrugged at him.   "We'll just have to take another test 
subject."  He turned and started to walk away.

Mulder looked after him:  that was far too easy.  "Wait a minute 
what does that mean?"

The man turned around to face him.  "I think you know."

"Don't play games with me!  Tell me what you mean."

"Your wife will do.  She was quite helpful to us once before."

His breath tightened in his chest as he shook his head at the man.  
"No..."

"Good day, Mr. Mulder."  Once again he turned and started toward 
the darkness.

"NO!"   Mulder went after the man, turning him around and grasping 
his collar.  "Please," he appealed desperately, "please don't force me 
to make that choice, I can't make that choice... please..."

The man took no pity on him.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder.  One of your 
children or your wife, your decision."

And suddenly the man was standing several feet away from him, and 
Emma was at his side, looking back at her father with a puzzled 
expression.

"Emma come here," Mulder called quickly out of instinct.

The man lay a hand on her shoulder.  "No no, she comes with me."

"No!"  Mulder ran a hand through his hair.  "I won't let you take her."

And suddenly Emma was gone and Ben was standing at the man's 
side.

"Ben!"  Mulder started to reach out for him as the man held up a 
hand.

Ben looked at his father.

"Ben..." Mulder whispered weakly.

The man started to back away into the shadows with him.

Mulder looked at them moving away, panic-stricken, frantic, the 
misery tearing at his heart.  "No I can't do this I will not do this!" he 
yelled.

"You're choice, Mr. Mulder," the man reiterated coldly.  "Of course 
if you'd rather..."

No, he thought, not Scully... the distant, hollow sound of his own 
voice echoed in his mind:  { I would never 
choose anything, any one over you...}.  He could never face losing 
Scully again.

And he knew it would have to be one of his children.  

He looked down and Ben and Emma were standing suddenly before 
him. His face was slack in pain and defeat as he haltingly placed a 
trembling hand on one dark-haired head.  He closed his eyes and 
nodded.  

The man approached and picked up the child.  "This is your choice?"

Mulder looked away, unable to face the confusion and betrayal in 
his child's eyes.  He closed his eyes and nodded again.  And then he 
stood there watching, numb, paralyzed, as the man disappeared into 
the darkness with his child.  "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

A door opened behind him and Scully came running into the room.  
She started to run past Mulder, but he reached out and restrained 
her.  "No..."  she stared, struggling against him as her eyes stayed 
fixed on the man dragging her child away.   "NO!"  And then they 
were gone, and she stared after them for the longest time, as if doing 
so would miraculously cause them to reappear.  Her mouth dropped, 
a small sound of despair escaped her as she realized they were 
gone... for good.  Then, she looked up at Mulder, the tears stinging 
her eyes.  She shook her head at him.  "What did you do?" she asked 
incredulously.  "What did you do!" she screamed, pushing him away 
forcefully.  She slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands as he 
tried unsuccessfully to console her.  "Get away from me I hate you!" 
she seethed, once more attempting to push him away.  But he 
reached for her, holding her tightly as she sobbed quietly in his arms, 
and he never felt more alone in his life...

Mulder came awake quickly, his heart pounding in his chest, and he 
bolted from the bed to Ben's room.  The child was sleeping quietly, 
one arm hanging off the bed.  The dog rested on the floor beside him.  
He went down to Emma's room and found her in the same peaceful 
state.  In the hallway he leaned back against the wall, covering his 
mouth and nose with his hands.  His legs threatened to give out on 
him and he slid to the floor as his breathing slowed.  He couldn't 
stop shaking.

Scully, who had been roused from sleep by his flight from their bed, 
found him in the hall and crouched down beside him.  She rested a 
hand on his arm, the other on his sweat-dampened forehead.  
"Mulder what's wrong is everything OK?"

He nodded in response, but she could see that he was far from being 
all right.  She knew he was a man who was plagued by nightmares, 
and she figured he'd had another one;  but it had been a long time... 
he hadn't had a nightmare this bad since Ben was born.  She sat 
down beside him and snuggled close.

"I'm scared, Scully."

She looked at him with concern.  "Why?  Of what?"

"I wouldn't want you to ever hate me."

"I could never hate you, Mulder."

"What if I had to make that choice, Scully:  what if I had to make the 
choice my father did?"

And then she knew what his dream had been about.  "Oh my God, 
Mulder.  Nobody could make that choice."

He shook his head as he considered her words.

After a moment, Scully looked back up at his profile.  She couldn't 
even imagine what she would choose.  "Do you know what you 
would do?"

"I couldn't do it."  He turned his head to look at her.  "I'd rather die 
than have to make that choice."

They stared at each other, and then she nodded at him in 
understanding.  They sat in silence for a long time.

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

The following week, his dream slowly starting to grow distant in his 
mind, Mulder sat on the couch in the study with Ben and Emma on 
the floor in front of him, engaging in one of his children's favorite 
pastimes:  story telling.  The wellspring of story ideas he had from 
his and Scully's work together was fodder for tales of liver-eating 
monsters, sewer-dwelling dragons, mad scientists and sleepless 
soldiers.  As he finished his latest anecdote, Emma rested her elbows 
on the couch and looked at her father expectantly.  "Was Mommy 
your princess, Daddy?"

Ben rested his forehead against his palm with a small sound of 
disgust:  girls.  His mom hadn't been some stupid princess, in his 
mind, she was a dragon slayer. 

Mulder smiled at Ben's reaction, then his attention turned to the hall 
as Scully appeared in the doorway, her presence signaling bed time.

Mulder went down the hall with Emma as Scully brought Ben to his 
room.

Ben watched her as she tucked the covers up under his arms.  "Mom?  
Are those stories real or are they just stories?"

Scully stared at him as she struggled with a response.  She imagined 
he might get quite a different answer from his father, and she had 
seen some pretty strange things herself...  But she didn't want to 
scare him, so she chose her words carefully.  "Well, stories are meant 
to be exaggerations of the truth, Ben.  There are bad people out there 
who do bad things, and sometimes people see monsters or devils 
because it's easier than believing a real person could do such terrible 
things."  She watched his reaction, wondering if he would buy her 
vague response.

Ben contemplated his mom's words.  That was true, he knew;  he 
himself had witnessed what a bad person could do soon after his 
fourth birthday, an incident that had created in him a strong 
protectiveness of his mom.  As he watched her now, he sensed there 
was something more, but also knew she wasn't going to tell him.  At 
least not yet.  Maybe when he was older.  "Are you OK, Mom?"

Scully's eyes widened, once again taken back by his acute awareness 
of other's feelings.  "Tired."  She offered a small smile, then pressed 
her cheek against his.  "Good night my gentle Ben," she whispered.

He smiled and watched her go.

Back in their room, she crawled into bed next to Mulder.  "You have 
to be careful what you tell them, Mulder."

"They're just fairy tales to them, Scully."

She settled down into the bed and propped her head up in her hand.  
She smirked at him.  "So did you tell them about the wicked witch 
who tempted you with her apple at the ball?"

He smirked back as he turned his head to look at her.  "No, I told 
them about the wolf who went after Little Red Riding Hood."

Both of their smiles were wide.

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

A few weeks later as Scully was enjoying a bath after Ben and Emma 
had been put to bed, she thought about their interest in those stories.  
As the years passed, both children would become increasingly 
intrigued by their parent's work... it seemed they both had a natural 
aptitude for investigation.  They would spend long hours with their 
father, going over files, listening to his account of their work.  As 
much as Emma was like her father, there was one area where she 
couldn't be more like her mom:  while she seemed to be able to look 
at things with a detachment that was almost clinical, it was Ben 
who's sensitive nature precluded such objectiveness.  He seemed to 
soak in every experience, and Scully worried about the effects long 
term interest would have on him; she didn't want him ending up in 
the same state his father had been in when she met him.  She had 
spent too many years agonizing over Mulder to be able to face going 
through it again with his son.  As she emerged from the bathroom in 
her nightshirt now, she smiled at the sound of Mulder typing away 
on the computer.  So maybe he hadn't changed *that* much...  She 
looked up as the dog came up the stairs and disappeared into Ben's 
room.  After a few moments, he emerged and entered Emma's.  Scully 
smiled at him when he reappeared in the hallway.  "Making nightly 
rounds?"  He watched her with intelligent eyes, then approached 
until he was just in front of her.  He sat and waited for her to pet 
him.  Scully crouched down and stroked his head fondly.  "You're a 
good boy, Loki, yes you are," she crooned softly.  He sat there 
contentedly, enjoying his dose of love and affection.

Mulder's footfalls ascended the stairs.  "Hi," he said lowly, not 
wanting to wake Ben and Emma.  They conversed in hushed 
whispers.

Scully stood and looked up at him as he came up to her.  "Hi, did 
you finish the article?"

"Yeah, finally."  His eyes traveled down to the dog.  They were both 
quiet for a long moment.

Scully continued to stare at the animal.  "Every time I look at him I 
think about what happened."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A little of both I guess."  She looked back up at Mulder.  "Do you 
think Ben will ever forget?"

He instinctively wrapped an arm across her shoulders.  "I don't know, 
Scully.  I hope so."

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

Mulder and Ben sat on the floor in front of the fire huddled over the 
chess board.  Mulder had taught both of them how to play when they 
were fairly young, but Emma had no patience for it.  So while Scully 
had taken her out while she ran a few errands, he and Ben decided to 
take advantage of the quiet.  Finally, Ben made his move and their 
eyes met over the board.  Mulder smirked at him:  damn, the kid was 
good.  Ben broke into a wide grin.

A sudden knock interrupted their game and Mulder got up to answer 
the door.  Two uniformed officers stood on the step, one of them was 
holding the hand of a very pale and scared-looking Emma.  Her eyes 
were wide and at that moment she looked much older than her seven 
years.  An invisible fist strangled the breath out of his lungs as 
Mulder stared at the two men.  

"Daddy!"  Emma stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around 
his legs, but he couldn't move, couldn't reach out to console her.  He 
just kept staring at the officers.

"Mr. Mulder?"

"Where is she?"

"Your wife, sir, we found her car along the side of the road on 301--"

"What happened to her?"

"We don't know."

"You don't know?  What the hell does that mean?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you.  We found the car, engine running, 
lights on, your little girl was in the front seat, she appeared to be in 
some kind of shock, but there was no sign of your wife anywhere.  
We had some officers search the area and..."

Mulder stood there staring at them.  Suddenly the officer's voice 
seemed to be coming from far away, from deep within an endless 
tunnel, and it felt like every drop of blood was being drained from 
his body.

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

Ben went down to the kitchen to get some breakfast.  Along the way 
he passed his father who had fallen asleep on the couch again.  His 
mom had been gone over a month and his father had not slept a 
single night in their bed.  The study or the couch-- he was always in 
one place or the other.  Ben didn't know what went on while he and 
Em were at school, but when they got back, they would always find 
him locked in the study.  Ben suspected that he went out during the 
day;  perceptive as he was, he noticed the car was sometimes in a 
slightly different position then when they'd left for school that 
morning.  But he was always back by the time they returned.  Ben 
knew that even in the state his father was in, he still loved them 
deeply, and whatever small part of him that was still functioning 
wanted to make sure that their father was in the house to keep an eye 
on them, just in case.  Occasionally they would hear the muffled 
sound of his voice on the phone, the unmistakable sound of the 
modem connecting or a fax coming through, but for the most part, all 
they heard was silence.  And when his dad was around, he barely 
spoke to them, acknowledged them;  he was in complete shut down.  
Sometimes Ben would catch him staring at him or Emma with such 
sadness in his eyes, and even at his young age, he knew he was 
seeing something in them that reminded him of her.

Emma shuffled into the kitchen and sat at the table; the last thing she 
felt like doing was going to school.  

Ben brought two bowls and spoons over and poured them both some 
cereal.  "We're late today, you gotta eat fast."  

As he was draining the last of the milk into Emma's bowl, she rested 
her chin on her palm.  "I'm sick of cereal," she complained.
 
"Shut up, Em."

She scowled at her brother.

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

Later that night footsteps in the hallway woke Ben and he went out 
to the top of the stairs.  He could see the light from inside the study 
was illuminating a small patch of floor at the foot of the stairs;  the 
door was open.  He crept downstairs and found his father in his other 
spot in darkness on the couch.  He went quietly to him.  "Dad?"

"What is it, Ben?"  He placed the glass back on the coffee table next 
to the clear bottle he was drinking from.

"What's going on with Mom?  Did you find anything else out?"

He was silent.

"Dad?"

"I don't want to talk about this now."

"Can't you just tell me--"

"Go to bed, Ben."  His voice was flat, emotionless.

"I wanna know what's going on, Dad."

He didn't seem to hear him.

"Why won't you tell us what's happening?  We want to know!"

Once again he was silent, staring far off.

"Why won't you talk to us?!" he yelled in frustration.  "We miss her 
too you know!"  With that he turned and stormed up to his room.  
Slamming the door shut, he lashed out at the books on his bureau, 
sending them all to the floor before collapsing face first onto the 
bed.  

A few minutes later there was a tentative knocking at his door.  
There was only one person that it could possibly be.  "Go away."

The door opened a crack and Emma dared to peek in.  Ben was lying 
on his stomach on the bed, his face buried in his folded arms.  
"Ben?"

He didn't look up at her.  "I said go away, Em."

She entered anyway, approaching until she was just alongside his 
bed.  "You want to play some Road Rash?"

He shook his head.

"Double Dragon?"

He shook his head again.

They were both silent for several minutes.  Emma lay a hand on her 
brother's arm.  "What's wrong with him, Ben?"

He didn't answer her.

"Ben?"

Keeping his head resting on his arms, he answered her.  "I don't think 
he can live without her, Em."

"What are we going to do, Ben?"  Getting no response, she tried 
again.  "Ben?"

He was silent.

Blinking back the tears, Emma grabbed his arm forcefully and shook 
it, she'd tried to hard to keep a chin up, but she was losing it.  
"Answer me, Ben!  Please!  Don't clam up on me, too... please..."  
The tears spilled over and streaked her face.

Ben sat up and pulled his sister towards him.  "I'm sorry, Em.  I'm 
here and I won't go away.  I promise.  I won't go away."  He held her 
as she cried, and desperately wished he'd been the one in the car with 
his mom.  Emma had said she didn't remember anything, just a bright 
flash and she was gone.  But maybe if he'd been there it would've 
been different.  Maybe he could've done something...

Emma pulled from him and wiped her eyes.  "Come here."  

Ben followed her into the study and waited as she closed the door 
and went to the phone.  "What are you doing?"

"Calling Grandma."

He swiped the phone out of her hand, chagrined that he hadn't 
thought of it first.  "I'll do it."

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

Margaret Scully sat up wearily in bed, disoriented as her phone rang 
out at her bedside in what had been the still of night.  "Hello?"

<Hi Grandma.>

"Benjamin?  What's going on are you all right?"

<I'm OK.>

She sat up and turned on her bedside lamp.  "What are you doing up 
so late?"

<Grandma... we're worried about Dad.>

"Oh sweetheart, I know.  You're dad'll be all right though.  He's just 
sad, he needs some time to feel better.  We all do."

<I don't know...>

"He will, Ben.  And he'll find her, too.  They'll both be OK, you'll 
see."

<No, I don't think he's gonna get better, Grandma.  It's bad...>

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

Mulder hung his head at the sight of Margaret Scully standing on his 
doorstep.

"Fox."

"It's late."

She brushed past him and entered the living area.

Mulder shut the door and followed, sitting heavily on the couch.  He 
leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him.  "What are you 
doing here?"

"Benjamin called me."

He stared at the floor.  

"They're scared, Fox."

More silence.

She approached him and placed her hands on her hips.  Her voice 
was understanding but firm.  "Look, my grandchildren have lost their 
mother, I won't stand by and watch them lose their father, too."

Her tone caused him to look up.  He met her eyes.

And her heart filled with compassion at what she saw there.  He was 
a man who'd had one half of his soul, his heart, ripped from him, and 
the remaining half was dying.

"I, uh...",  his voice was low and tremulous, "I need your help."

His tone was so desperate, so tortured that she felt the tears well in 
her eyes.  She rested a hand on his shoulder.  "What can I do?"

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

Mulder watched as Maggie approached with his children, bundled in 
their coats, back packs and book bags at their sides.  They stopped in 
front of the couch as he sat in the still dark living room.  Even in the 
dimness, they could see his eyes were red with sadness and pain.  He 
offered them both an apologetic smile, they stared back at him with 
concern.  

Ben spoke up first.  "It's just for a little while, right Dad?"

Mulder nodded at him and reached for his hand.  His voice was thick 
and congested.  "I need you to understand something, Ben.  This isn't 
about you," he glance over at his little girl, "or Emma, or anything 
you've done.  I just... I can't..."  he spoke haltingly, laboring over 
every word, "I'm not going to be able to take care of you right now."

They stared at him in silence.  That much, they knew.  They both 
reached out and embraced him.

Mulder closed his eyes and held them tightly.  He wished more than 
anything he could find the strength to be there for them.  "I love 
you,"  he whispered.

Ben's voice was muffled at his shoulder.  "Please keep looking, 
Dad."

"I won't give up, Ben.  I won't give up."

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

Senator Matheson entered his office and closed the door.  The clock 
on the wall told him it was well after midnight: another late session 
of Congress.  He stopped suddenly, startled to see a man's silhouette 
near his desk.  He reached over to turn on a light;  his face relaxed in 
recognition.  "Fox."  He set down his briefcase and approached him.  
"It's been a while;  you're work at the university is going well, I--"

"You know why I'm here."

The Senator stared at him and contemplated feigning ignorance, but 
the bedraggled man before him did not look like someone who 
would tolerate his equivocation.  He nodded.  "Yes, I imagine I do."

"You can get her back for me."

"As much as I'd like to help you, I'm afraid my hands are tied."

Mulder pushed him.  "I don't believe you."

"This is beyond me."

They were both silent for several seconds.

Mulder's jaw tightened with frustration.  "Can you at least tell me if 
she'll be returned this time?"

The Senator regarded him carefully.  He moved to the other side of 
his desk and sat in the chair.  After what seemed like a torturously 
long time to Mulder, the Senator answered him.  "Yes."

He swallowed hard.  "How long?"

He shook his head noncommittally and the implication was clear:  it 
would be a long, long time before he saw her again.

He forced the saliva down his throat.  "What are they doing to her?"

The Senator avoided his gaze.  Mulder wondered if he'd detected a 
hint of guilt there before he'd looked away.  "A little... longitudinal 
research."

Mulder shook his head at him in disgust.

"If there was anything, *anything* I could do I--"

"Look-- I've worked hard for you, I've put everything on the line for 
you..."  Mulder approached the desk and leaned down towards him.  
"*You owe me*," he said forcefully.

They stared at each other.

Mulder straightened.  "Tell me Senator:  you've been doing very well 
for yourself.  I don't imagine it would be very beneficial to your 
career if it were to be known that you're the one who's supported me 
all these years."

The older man raised his eyebrows.  Mulder thought he looked 
surprised... and, maybe, a little impressed.  "If I didn't know you 
better, Fox, I might think you just threatened to expose me,"  the 
Senator countered, his tone light, almost admonishing.  "But now 
that would be the end of your work, too.  Neither of us wants that."

"No, *you* don't want that.  I have nothing, nothing to lose."

Their eyes held as the Senator sized him up.

Mulder stared at him intensely.  "And I need to know this will never 
happen again."

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

As Mulder waited for word back from Senator Matheson, he carried 
on with his search, which was even more exhaustive than the last.  
He had no intention of waiting around until "they" decided to return 
her.  He couldn't even be sure the Senator had been completely 
straight with him.  So he continued his pursuit despite an increasing 
sense that it was a futile endeavor.  

A week had gone by since Ben and Emma had gone to stay with 
Scully's mom.  Despite the fact that he'd seemed barely cognizant of 
their presence when they were there, he missed them terribly now 
that they were gone.  He hadn't realized how the routine sounds of 
having them there, watching TV, playing video games, broke the 
devastating silence of the house.  Sitting on the couch now, he 
looked down as the dog approached.  The animal lay his head on 
Mulder's lap and shifted his eyes up to look at him.  And he was 
grateful for the company.

The door bell sounded and, with some difficulty, Mulder pulled 
himself from the couch to answer it.

Langley entered first, with Byers following behind.  

"What are you boys doing out so late on a school night?"  Mulder 
closed the door and turned around.

There faces were solemn as they looked at him.

Byers folded his arms in front of him.  "You better come with us."

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

As they entered the main room Mulder felt a blast of dry heat hit his 
face.  "What's with your heating--"  He turned his head in the 
direction of the recording equipment, and his breath caught in his 
throat:  Scully was sitting in a chair just in front of it.  Frohike was 
crouched down beside her, but he got up and stepped away as 
Mulder stopped to stare at her.  She looked so small and fragile 
sitting there, shivering violently despite the thick blanket wrapped 
around her.  Mulder continued to stare, not quite trusting his eyes.  
"Scully..." he whispered.  Then he went to her, kneeling down in 
front of her and taking her hands in his.  They were ice cold.  

She attempted a weak smile.

He pulled her into a hug, smiling into her hair as he held her tight.  
She started to warm in his arms and he could feel the tension 
draining from her body.  And he'd never felt as much relief and 
happiness as he did at that moment... But no, he had-- once.  That 
morning not long after she'd been returned the last time; when she 
was in the hospital and he was at home waiting for The Call.  The 
call that would tell him that she was gone and that he was going to 
have to spend the rest of his life missing her.  That he'd lost the only 
person in his life who'd ever loved him unconditionally.  That he was 
alone again.  He almost didn't answer it,  was going to let the 
machine pick up.  Then he could listen to it when he was ready... or 
not at all.  Maybe if he never heard it it wouldn't be true.  But then 
the thought of hearing some detached, impersonal message on his 
machine, of Mrs. Scully's tear-strained voice telling him that she was 
gone <Fox... we lost her...>  it was that thought that caused him to 
grab for the phone {I'm here}...

He gathered her closer in his arms.  After a few moments, he pulled 
from their embrace and studied her face.  "What happened?"

She shook her head.  "I don't know.  I don't remember anything..."

Byers spoke up behind them, but Mulder kept his gaze fixed on 
Scully for fear if he looked away she would be gone again.  "She was 
returned with a group of women found near the old cemetery on 
Fountain Street outside Alexandria.  They were all a little dazed, but 
otherwise apparently unharmed."

Langley continued.  "Picked it up on our scanner;  we took a chance 
she might be among the returned.  We took off with her from the 
hospital before the suits could get there to question everybody."

Mulder lightly touched her cheek.  "Are you OK?"

"Physically, yeah."  She lowered her eyes, then looked back up 
suddenly.  "Ben and Emma, are they OK where are they?"

"They're fine; they're with your mom."

"I need to see them."  She nodded at him as the relief and exhaustion 
filled her eyes with tears.  "I need to go home."

Mulder pulled her against his chest as the three men quietly filed out 
of the room.  They clung to each other in the warmth of their 
embrace, and savored every second of being together again.

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

Epilogue

Several months later they stood in the kitchen finishing up the last of 
the dishes.  Mulder hadn't had any contact with Senator Matheson 
since that night she'd been returned.  In fact, as time went on, the 
subject would never again be brought up between the two men.  
Whatever the Senator had done, he had made sure the matter was 
settled; she was never taken again, though not a day went by that 
Mulder didn't worry about that possibility.

He watched her now as she turned off the water and handed the last 
dish to him to dry.  It was quiet, Ben and Emma were sleeping, and 
the house was peaceful.

Scully leaned against the counter as he stowed the last dish back in 
the cupboard.  "Did you remember to get a movie?"

He'd completely forgotten that he had.  "Oh, yeah I did."

"Great what did you get?"  She looked up at him expectantly.

"The Guns of Navarone."

Her face froze as she stared at him, not quite sure if he was joking... 
she *really* hoped he was.

"What we agreed on a classic, right?"  He smiled and drew her closer.  
"I'm kidding.  I got 'Wait Until Dark'."

She smiled widely back at him.  "Great, I haven't seen that one in a 
long time."

"Well there wasn't much to choose from;  almost got 'Quiz Show' just 
to be safe-- figured I couldn't go wrong with Ralph Fiennes."

She looked back up at the man holding her and received the warmth 
of his smile.  She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek 
against his chest.  "I couldn't go wrong with you."

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

A sudden rumble of thunder startled Scully awake as she lay on the 
couch.  Another storm was coming in off the bay.   Mulder slept 
behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist, his breath falling 
gently at her neck.  The movie they had been watching long since 
over, the TV displayed a blank blue screen.  Scully squirmed around 
until she faced him and watched him as he slept.  She thought about 
the first time she'd seen that face:  those bespectacled, mischievous 
eyes staring back at her, challenging and testing her  {Oh really?  I 
was under the impression you were sent to spy on me...}  She 
remembered how she'd become more and more intrigued by him;  by 
that irreverent attitude, by the humor he threw up in defense to hide 
that vulnerable part of him, that scared twelve year old boy who'd 
had his sister taken from him and his world turned upside down.  
That boy who would always be part of the man that was Fox Mulder, 
even long after his sister had been returned.  She smiled softly at his 
sleeping face, and wondered if it were possible to love somebody 
more.

She snuggled close, pressing her body up against his as she 
distributed soft kisses along his mouth.

Mulder came awake slowly, and found his body was way ahead of 
him.  As his mind came out of its fog to catch up, he tightened his 
hold on her and kissed her back.   Amazing as it was, even after all 
these years the feel of the other's kiss was never anything less than 
intoxicating.

"Mulder... maybe we should go upstairs," she breathed.

Now fully lucid, he rolled her underneath him and started pushing 
down her sweat pants.

"What if one of the kids comes down?"

He smiled devilishly into the kiss.  "Thank God for that creaky 
stair..."

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

As their bodies came to rest in the darkness, a silent flash of 
lightning threw the room momentarily into brightness;  a few 
seconds later the far off sound of thunder echoed in the sky.

Mulder nuzzled into her neck.  "God I love sending you there."  She 
smiled contentedly back at him and after a moment, he peeled 
himself off of her, what was left of their clothes now drenched in 
sweat.

She sat up next to him and worked at fastening the buttons of her 
shirt.  "You ready to go up?"

He pulled her to him until he had her cradled in his arms.  "Again?  
Well OK...".

Scully shook her head at him.  "And I wonder where Emma gets it 
from."

He grinned at her as she got up off the couch.

"Let's go.  I'll get the TV."

Mulder sat on the couch and watched her as she searched for the 
remote, a small smile on his lips. A single streak of gray colored her 
hair, a few delicate laugh-lines touched the skin at the corner of her 
mouth-- Mulder liked to think he was responsible for putting those 
there-- but all in all, she hadn't changed much.  She was still 
beautiful and strong, still Dana Scully.  She was still his heart, his 
world, his everything.  After all this time, he was still under her 
spell.

End Part 14

***************************************
Lyrics from Spacehog's "In the Meantime", 1995.


Well I had fun writing this one--  I think I'm going to like 
writing these little fill-ins, so there may be more to come than 
just the two (this and the next one).  I may also do some more 
Samantha-focused chapters, but that depends on feedback... 
after all, this is primarily a Mulder-Scully story!  Anyway, this 
one here was originally the first few pages of Spell 14, but 
there was already so much going on in that segment, I decided 
to take this out and add more detail to it, make it a more 
substantial stand-alone chapter.  Hope you'll enjoy it! 

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

Spell:  Samantha

"Oh my God."  Scully stared at the young girl sitting at the 
table in the middle of the interrogation room.  She must have 
been about seventeen, her long brown hair hung in tangles 
down her back, dark circles stained the skin below her eyes...  
her eyes, they were wide and had a hollow quality to them that 
gave her a haunted appearance.  She was wearing jeans and 
sneakers, and an over-sized sweatshirt that made her look 
frightfully thin.  Scully averted her gaze and turned back 
towards the door.  "Can I speak to you privately, Detective?"

He nodded and they exited back into the hallway.  Scully cast 
an awkward glance into the room through the two-way mirror 
as the detective closed the door.  "I had assumed when they 
said they found a girl that they meant... a body."

"You weren't told over the phone--"

"No,"  Scully interrupted, shaking her head at him, "I wasn't."

Scully glanced down the hallway as she caught sight of a man 
moving quickly towards her out of the corner of her eye;  she 
did a double-take when she realized it was Mulder.  In one 
arm he cradled Ben, bundled in his carseat.  She approached 
him, trying to head him off before he got to the window.  She 
was unsuccessful.  "Mulder--"

"What's goin' on, Scully?"  He glanced into the room.  "I 
followed..."  His voice trailed off and he stared at the girl in 
the room.

Scully could see the wheels were turning in that brilliant head 
of his.

He turned his head back towards her.  "What is this?"

Holding a hand up at his chest, she spoke pointedly to him.  
"We don't know.  That's why I'm here."

"Who called you?"

"Mulder--"

"Who called you?!" he insisted, louder this time.

"I don't know!  Please, calm down, we don't know what's 
going on, I --"

Pushing the car seat into her hands, he brushed past her and 
entered the room.

Scully closed her eyes and shook her head.  This is exactly 
what she didn't want to happen.

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

Mulder entered the room and shut the door behind him.  He 
turned around and faced the girl, staring at her for the longest 
time before approaching.  He stood at the other side of the 
table.  Young, he thought, she's too young to be Samantha.

The girl watched him closely, wondering if he was planning 
on speaking or if he was just going to keep standing there 
watching her.  "Who are you?"

Mulder held her gaze.  "Who are you?"

"Samantha Mulder."

He nodded at her, folding his arms in front of him.  "Is that 
right."

She nodded back at him.  "Yes that's right."

"Who told you to say that?"

The girl looked at him quizzically, surprised at the bitter tone 
of his voice.

His voice rose.  "Who told you to say you were her?"

Samantha shook her head at the man, even more confused by 
his unprovoked hostility.  "Nobody...  Why, what is this about?  
Who are you?"

"I asked you first."

The girl's tone was growing impatient.  "No, I asked *you* 
first and I already answered your question.  Who the hell are 
you?  I've already told the other detectives what happened--"

"Well maybe now you could tell me."

The girl watched him uncertainly, sizing him up.  After a 
moment, she started to speak.

Mulder listened intently as she recounted to him what had 
happened to her:  She had been found six years ago.  Local 
authorities had picked her up wandering out in the field of an 
abandoned farmhouse, and after a stint in various foster 
homes, she'd spent the last four years living with an adoptive 
family.  At the time of her return, all she could remember was 
her first name;  everything else was a blank.  She'd been in 
treatment for Post Traumatic Stress since the time of her 
return, but progress had been slow and unproductive.  Finally, 
one evening while she was doing the routine chore of wiping 
out the sink, it had all come back to her in a flurry of 
disjointed images, in bits and pieces, as if someone had merely 
opened a door and let the memories that had been hiding 
behind it blow clearly into her conscious mind like dry leaves 
in an autumn wind.  While she was cleaning the porcelain 
sink, her finger caught a sharp piece of metal around the 
drain.  As the bright red drops of blood fell rhythmically 
against the porcelain, she started to feel like she was being 
pulled away, far away, into memories of a past she'd forgotten, 
and flashes of a cold, dark time when she'd never felt more 
alone and in pain in her life.  It had thrown her into a fugue-
like state, and the next thing she knew she was in the back of a 
police cruiser being taken to the station for holding, repeating 
over and over that her name was Samantha Mulder and that 
she needed to get to Chilmark, Massachusetts.

Eventually, she'd become more coherent and was able to start 
to fill the police in on what had transpired.  Naturally, the two 
officers hadn't believed her.  They wrote her off as a junkie on 
a bad trip and figured they'd let her come down a little while 
they got in touch with her family.  So they'd taken her driver's 
license and phoned her parents, who were now on their way to 
the station.  But she was insistent, she would not go with 
them;  she was desperate to get to Massachusetts, to her 
family.

When she finished, Mulder nodded at her.  "That's a good 
story.  And very convenient."

Samantha stood abruptly.  "Look, I don't have to put up with 
this, you're wasting my time!"  She started to brush past him.  
"I have to get home!"

Mulder moved to block her from leaving.  "We're not 
finished."

Samantha looked up at the man standing in front of her, 
shoulders slightly stooped as he stared down at her in a stance 
that was somehow familiar... and then, for the first time, she 
got to really see his eyes, and her own eyes widened with 
recognition.  "Oh my God... Fox..."

Mulder only stared back at her.

The girls eyes filled with tears.  "It is you..."  she took a step 
closer and let her head fall against his chest.  She wrapped her 
arms around him tightly and started to cry.

Mulder stood there motionless.  He would not let them do this 
to him again.  It had almost killed him the last time.

Samantha looked up at him.  "Fox?  It is you isn't it?"

He stared at her, then nodded slowly.

"What's wrong?"

He took hold of her upper arms and pulled from her embrace.  
He swallowed hard.  "I don't believe you."

She looked at him, shaking her head in confusion.  "What?  
Why?  I don't understand..."

Mulder stared at her.  For starters, she was too young... despite 
that little voice in the back of his head that kept reminding 
him that some abductees appeared to have delays if not full-
stops in aging when they were returned.  Her story-- that was 
another thing.  It was too perfect, too simple.  Simple enough 
to be believable...  And then he couldn't stand it anymore, he 
turned and started for the door.

"Fox wait..." she said quickly, her mind searching desperately 
for something to say to make him believe her.  But what?  
What could she possibly say?  And suddenly, the words were 
there  "...you could've watched The Magician if you wanted 
to."

Mulder froze.  He had never told anyone, not even Scully, that 
they'd been arguing over what to watch on TV that night.  He 
harbored too much guilt about it, that he had wasted their last 
precious minutes together bickering over some stupid show.  
How many times had he wished he could go back to that 
night?  That he could've relived those last few moments with 
her just to say I love you I will never forget you I'll spend the 
rest of my life looking for you...  But no, instead they'd spent 
them locked in mindless childhood battle.  Nobody could know 
about that.  Nobody except her.

He turned around slowly and stared at her.  And a weariness 
like he had never known settled over him:  the exhaustion of a 
lifetime's search that had finally proved fruitful catching up to 
him in a single moment.  He'd imagined this moment a 
million times, a million different ways, and now here he was 
in the middle of it, and all he could do was stand there.  He 
wanted to go to her, but found he could not move;  his legs 
seemed frozen in place, and he was forcing the breath in and 
out of his lungs.

Samantha approached him again, taking his hand in hers and 
squeezing it tightly.  And now she could see in his eyes that he 
believed.  Her eyes filled with tears once more.

And it was almost too much to bear, the weight of years of 
pain lifting off of him in a fleeting second.  Shouldn't it have 
lasted longer?  Surely decades of despair would linger, would 
leave its mark on a person's soul?  But no, now she was here, 
and that empty space he'd always carried for her was filled 
with her presence; that small part of him that had died the 
night she was taken now surging back to life inside him.  The 
pain swelled in the back of his throat, and he reached out to 
embrace her.  She clung to him, sobbing softly against his 
chest.  He knew she would have many questions, and certainly 
where her parents were would be foremost in her mind.  
Mulder held her tighter.  He was going to have to give her 
some difficult answers.  No doubt it would be painful for her to 
hear how the family had fallen apart after her disappearance.  
She didn't even know their parents had divorced.  And of 
course he'd have to tell her about their father, too... his death, 
the conspiracies, the questions.  But for now, he was content 
just to hold her, to assure himself that this was actually 
happening.  They held each other in silence, and slowly the 
reality of it all started to sink in.  She was really here;  after so 
many years, she'd come home.  Turning his face deeper into 
her hair, he felt the sting of tears burning in his own eyes; and 
this time, he let them come.

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

When Mulder went into the interrogation room to speak with 
the girl, Scully went with Douglas back to the Detectives Unit 
and questioned him about how the girl had been found.  
According to Douglas, she reported she had been returned six 
years ago.  At that time, doctors estimated her age to be 
approximately twelve years;  if she was Samantha Mulder, she 
should have been much older.  In time, the matching of dental 
records and blood types and DNA testing would determine 
with a high degree of certainty that it was indeed Samantha.  
No one would be able to offer an explanation for the 
discrepancy in age.  Not that Mulder needed to hear any of 
that to believe it.

Scully lay there now on a couch in the dark lounge.  Ben slept 
soundly next to her in his carseat.  After Mulder had been 
talking to Samantha for over forty-five minutes, Detective 
Douglas had brought her down to the lounge so she and the 
baby could rest.  She drifted in and out of sleep as she 
contemplated the situation.  Strange-- if it really was 
Samantha-- that she would be returned to him now, at a time 
in his life when she knew he felt whole and at peace;  when he 
was finally coming to terms with the fact that she might never 
be found.  So what would this mean to her relationship with 
him?  She would never be so selfish as to begrudge him any 
time with Samantha, but she couldn't help but wonder how 
this would effect them, their marriage, their life together.  This 
would consume him;  this would be his focus now.  He would 
have a lot of catching up to do with his sister, so... would he 
want to spend some time away from her and the baby to be 
with Samantha?  She started at the feel of a warm hand on her 
cheek.

Mulder smiled sweetly at her as he crouched beside the couch 
where she lay.  "Hi."

She propped herself up on her elbow and tucked a strand of 
hair behind her ear.  "What's going on?"

"It's her, Scully.  It's really her."

Resting a hand on his arm, she looked at him with concern.

"I know what you're thinking but I'm not jumping into 
anything here.  I *know* it's her."

She wasn't about to rain on his parade, besides, she could see 
in his eyes that anything she might say would only fall on deaf 
ears.  So she squeezed his arm and offered a small smile;  
there would be time for questions later.

"Her... parents are here.  They're gonna take her home."

Scully stared at him.  "How do you feel about that?"

"I think it's best, for now."  He shrugged at her.  "You know, 
take it slow.  I should really prepare my mom, and I know 
she's going to want to spent some time with her, but I thought 
maybe in a few weeks she could come stay with us for a while?  
I mean not a while but maybe a few weeks, she starts college 
in the fall and--"

"Mulder,"  she smiled at him reassuringly, "that's fine.  That 
would be great."

He smiled back at her.  "Really?  Good.  Okay."  He stared at 
her intently, then reached for her hand.  He was silent for a 
long moment.  "I want you to come meet her."

Scully stared back at him as the enormity of the situation hit 
her.  Fox Mulder had found his sister.  Finally, after all this 
time his quest had come to an end.  In many ways, it had been 
her search too, from that very first night he'd shared the 
circumstances surrounding his sister's disappearance with her, 
through all the cases they'd investigated, to this moment right 
now.  That quest had always been a part of the bond between 
them, and now it was gone.  It was strange... but she wouldn't 
have traded this moment for him for anything in the world.

Mulder helped her to her feet and rested a warm palm against 
the back of her neck.  His thumb gently caressed the skin there 
through the strands of her hair.  Even in the darkness, his eyes 
were intense, and she could see that he was seeking 
reassurance in hers.  "It's over, Scully,"  he shrugged at her, 
his voice was a whisper,  "I don't know how to feel."

She lay a hand on his face.  "It's not over, Mulder;  it's just 
beginning."

He watched her, then nodded as a small smile tugged at the 
corner of his mouth.  She was right; leave it to her to say 
exactly the right thing to make him feel better.  He pulled her 
into a hug and kissed the top of her head.  They held each 
other in the dark, and, for just a few minutes, there was 
nothing else in the world but the comfort of each other's 
embrace.

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

Mulder entered the interrogation room first with Scully 
following behind, baby in tow.

Scully set Ben's carseat on another table and started to walk up 
behind Mulder.

He smiled at his sister.  "So this is the person I was telling you 
about..."  Scully came into sight from behind him, and Mulder 
slipped an arm across her shoulders.  "Dana Scully, this is..." 
Mulder paused;  somehow it seemed like this moment should 
be grander somehow, that it should be more than some simple, 
ordinary introduction... and maybe it was;  maybe her name 
said it all,  "...Samantha."

Scully smiled and extended her hand.

Samantha took her hand and shook it, but her face had gone 
sheet-white again and she stared at Scully like she was 
shaking the hand of a ghost.

Mulder rested a hand on Samantha's shoulder.  "What's 
wrong?"

She continued to stare at Scully as she released her hand.  "I 
know you."

Scully looked at her questioningly, and memories of standing 
outside the modest home of a woman named Betsy Hogasian 
in Allentown Pennsylvania and hearing similar words drifted 
into her mind.

"I know you," she repeated.

Mulder's arm dropped off of Scully's shoulders and he stepped 
closer to Samantha.  "What are you talking about?"

Samantha couldn't take her eyes off of Scully.  She hadn't 
really gotten a good look at her earlier when she'd stepped in 
with the detective.  "I saw you..."  And suddenly the memory 
came back to her as clearly as a series of photographs, of lying 
in a cold and sterile bed where she was supposed to sleep;  
there were others around her, others she could not see but who 
she could sometimes hear crying in the darkness.  Some of 
them stayed a long time, others were there for brief periods.  
She never knew anything else about the other women with her, 
just that she and the others in that room were referred to as the 
"sixty-fours".

Sometimes as she lay there, she was strangely aware of motion 
around her, like they were moving;  a slow, rhythmic motion 
that made her think of being on a train... and other times it 
was still, and those times there was a constant low hum;  and a 
strange sensation would come over her that made her feel that 
if it weren't for the restraints holding her to the bed she would 
simply float away.  And she remembered the time she lay there 
pretending to sleep as the door to the room opened quietly and 
a dim light poured into the room.  She could hear a soft sound 
that made her think of whispers, and opened her eyes the 
slightest bit to peek at what was going on.  Two dark figures 
were bringing a new woman in.  She seemed small and fragile 
in that over-sized white hospital gown that was standard issue 
in the place.  Her body was limp and the men held her arms as 
they brought her into the room, the tops of her bare feet sliding 
across the floor as they did.  Her head hung forward, red hair 
concealed the pale, dazed face beneath.  But for a moment, just 
a moment, the woman found the strength to lift her head and 
Samantha saw her.  She had only actually seen the faces of 
four others while she was gone, and she would never forget 
any of them.  And the woman she was looking at now stand 
next to her brother, it was her, it was that red-haired woman 
who had been dragged into the room in the middle of the night 
in that dark and cold place.

Samantha looked up suddenly, surprised to see that she was 
sitting;  they must have helped her to a chair when she'd 
started to sway.  She once again looked at the other woman.  
"You were there."

Scully glanced uneasily at Mulder.  "I was taken away a long 
time ago, yes.  I was missing..."  Her voice trailed off.

Samantha reached for her hand and held it between her two.  
She glanced at her brother briefly, the sadness paining her 
face, and she considered the irony of it all-- was it coincidence 
that her brother had fallen in love with someone who'd also 
been taken away?  That time Samantha had seen her, did she 
know Fox then, or was that before the two of them had met?  
Her mind reeled with questions and her own sense of time 
during her disappearance was hazy... She turned her face back 
to Scully.

The two women regarded each other.  What else could they 
say?  Nothing that either of them would want to get into now.  
But sometime, they would talk...  it appeared that Scully had 
more in common with her new sister-in-law than she could've 
imagined.  Scully lowered her eyes.  "I don't remember really.  
Just bits and pieces."

Samantha nodded at her in understanding.

Scully looked back at Mulder and she could so clearly read the 
emotions there--  that familiar resentment and anger towards 
those who had taken them from him was surfacing in his 
stomach again.

But he pushed down the hatred and squeezed Scully's hand 
reassuringly.  This moment had no place for hatred.  He 
turned back to look at the table behind them. As if reading his 
mind, Scully got up to go to it-- Samantha still had her 
nephew to meet.  At the table Scully pulled Ben from his car 
seat.  He was awake now and cooing quietly though she knew 
soon crankiness would set in as two o'clock feeding 
approached.  She held him close and brought him over to 
Samantha.

Mulder smiled with pride as Scully passed him to his sister.  
"This is your nephew, Benjamin," he said.

Samantha reached out for the baby and took him into her 
arms.

And for the first time in almost thirty years, Mulder saw his 
sister smile.

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

End

From: Kelli Rocherolle <kelli@edgenet.net>
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Spell:  Loki" by Kelli Rocherolle
Date: Tue, 30 Apr 1996 23:21:11 -0700


Spell:  Loki
by Kelli Rocherolle

Here's the next 'fill-in' Spell chapter.  It takes place a couple 
of months after Ben's 4th birthday, soon after the opening 
scene in Spell 14 where she tells him she's pregnant.  We 
know it's a happy ending, but this is just intended to fill you 
in on the incident I referred to in 14... which was just too 
much to add into that already monstrous chapter!  Feel free 
to send any comments to kelli@edgenet.net.  Thanks, enjoy!

*The following story is based on characters copyrighted by 
*Ten Thirteen Productions, created by The Man, Chris 
*Carter, and who are the property of the Fox network and 
*are used without permission. No infringement intended.

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

Innocence is over
ignorance is spoken 
confidence is broken
arrogance is potent
A romance is fallen
fallen
I repent tomorrow.
         -Alice in Chains

Spell:  Loki

With the Holidays come and gone, Mulder and Scully turned 
their attention back to work.  Soon they'd be returning to 
teaching after the winter break.  After Scully had broken the 
news of the new baby to Mulder Christmas eve, Christmas 
day they told Ben that by next year he would have a new 
brother or sister to play with.  Ben was thrilled, and that very 
night he took down one of his pictures of the tree and 
fireplace off of the fridge and added a new stocking along 
the mantel:  for baby.

In addition to getting back to school, they had another major 
event ahead of them:  buying their first house.  They were 
currently renting a small two bedroom cottage just outside 
the city while they waited for their loan to go through on a 
house they were purchasing in Annapolis.  It was wonderful-
- a large, beautiful home near the water, not unlike the 
Martha's Vineyard home Mulder had grown up in;  and they 
were tremendously excited about it.

"I wish you didn't have to go."  Scully sat on the edge of the 
old claw-foot tub in her oversized T-shirt.  It was late, and 
Mulder was relaxing with a quick bath before they turned in 
for the night.

"It's not like I want to, Scully.  Besides, you got to go last 
time."

The corner of her mouth turned up at him.  "Yeah but I 
didn't have any fun."

He mirrored her expression.  "Then I won't either."

Scully watched him as he settled deeper into the tub, running 
his hands through his hair until it was spiked out and wet.  
First thing tomorrow morning he was heading to Boston for 
a special seminar on Profiling.  The University liked them to 
attend a function or two each year as part of their teaching 
positions.  But it never worked out that they could go 
together, and they hated being apart;  they had already spent 
too much time away from each other.  It was only going to be 
for three days,  but she was going to miss him.

Mulder pulled her from her thoughts, literally... right into 
the tub with him.

A deluge of bath water spilled over the sides as she toppled 
into the tub.  "Mulder!"  She tried to turn around to face him 
but there just wasn't enough room, even in that big old thing.  
"I hate it when you do that!"

"You love it,"  he joked.  "You're just asking for trouble, 
walking around here in your little T-shirt."  He pulled her 
back against his chest.  "I've got your number, lady."

She suppressed a smile.  "Look at the floor!  I hope you feel 
like mopping..."

Mulder ignored her and reached for the soap dish.

"What are you doing?"

She could feel him smile against her ear.  "You know, this 
looks like it needs a washing."  He worked the soap into a 
lather and ran his hands slowly over her front through the 
wet fabric.

Her own smile faded as his hands grazed her stomach, her 
abdomen.  His soapy hands caressed the bare skin of her 
thighs.  She relaxed against him.

He nuzzled his face into the damp strands at the base of her 
neck.  "I'm going to miss you," he whispered.

Scully pulled from him, turning slightly, and motioned for 
him to turn around.  With some difficulty they maneuvered 
so that he was sitting with his back to her.  She reached 
through his arms and took the soap from him.  Mulder 
closed his eyes as she placed a few delicate kisses against his 
back, then let her hands slide slowly down over his chest. "In 
that case," she submerged her hands in the water, "I'll have 
to make sure I give you something to tide you over."

"Better than a good-bye kiss?"

She smiled brightly against his shoulder.  "Much better."

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

Scully rested her book against her chest and removed her 
glasses, setting them on the night table next to her bed.  It 
was late, but Mulder had promised he'd call when he arrived 
in Boston to let her know he got in safely and she wasn't 
going to be able to sleep until she heard from him.  She 
looked down at the other side of the bed--  Ben had fallen 
asleep next to her amidst a few of the children's books she'd 
been reading to him.  He had wanted to stay up and say 
goodnight to his father but just couldn't hold out.  Scully 
smiled softly as she watched him, lying on his side with the 
sheet covering his lower half, head tilted up towards her and 
mouth slightly open.  She reached out a hand and gently 
stroked his hair, his face;  his rosy little cheek was almost 
hot to the touch.  "Ben..." she tried softly.

He was out.

Scully raised her voice a notch.  "Ben?"

He blinked slowly and tried to wake.

Scully helped him up to a sitting position, stifling a smile as 
she did.  "Hi sleepy."  She slipped off the bed and helped 
him to the edge.  Her smile widened as she watched him:  he 
was really out of it, still half asleep;  his hair was all askew 
and he was wearing the now very worn "Saint Barts" T-shirt 
she'd bought on their honeymoon.  It hung to his ankles and 
had a small hole in the shoulder, but it was his favorite thing 
to sleep in.  She brought him into her arms, hugging him 
close as he rested his head on her shoulder.  "Mmm..."  
Inhaling deeply, she took in the sweet fragrance of tear-free 
shampoo mingled with that special scent that was simply her 
baby.

She stepped over the dog who was sleeping across the 
threshold to her bedroom, and carried Ben back to his own 
bed.  Mulder wasn't crazy about having a stray dog in the 
house, but Scully found it comforting to have him there 
while Mulder was away.  When she came out of Ben's room, 
there he was, sitting in the hall waiting for her.  He followed 
her back down to her bedroom.

She had just about reached the door when the phone started 
to ring.  Scully moved quickly the rest of the way into her 
room and sat on the bed.  She reached for the receiver.  
"Hello?"

"Hi gorgeous."

Scully smiled into the phone.  "Hi.  Where are you?"

"At the hotel."

"Finally.  Is it nice?"

"Yeah it's not bad.  How's everything there?  How's Ben?"

"He's fine.  But he was a little down when I picked him up 
from school earlier."

"Not the little freckle-faced girl again."

"Yup.  I think she broke his heart at the milk table."

He gave a quick, soft laugh into the phone and a pang jabbed 
at her heart-- she missed him already.  "So are you having 
fun?"

"Yeah, I'm having the time of my life:  the TV doesn't work, 
the heater rattles, I think the person who had this room last 
smoked like a chimney, and I have this great big empty bed 
to sleep in.  I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be."

"Right.  You probably have a chamber maid on each arm."

"Now there's a thought."

"You go right ahead Mulder.  You have your chambermaids 
and I have my UPS man..."

"Oh really?  Something you wanna tell me, Scully?"

"Yeah well sometimes he brings me a special delivery."

"Is that right?  You like his package?"

Now it was her turn to laugh.

"Good news, I'm going to cut out early tomorrow, I should be 
home before dinner time."

She smiled into the phone.

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

Scully had spent the day in her office at the University 
preparing for the new semester.  Normally she brought Ben 
along with her, the staff adored him, but she also had a 
prenatal appointment afterward and didn't want him to have 
to sit around in the waiting area for her.  She approached the 
front door to their house as dusk was falling, happy to be 
home for the day;  and even happier that Mulder would soon 
be home.

"Hi Abby."  Scully entered the living area as the baby sitter 
opened the door for her.  She rested her books and files on 
the floor, wiped her hands on her jeans before reaching into 
her purse.  "How was Ben?"

"Great as usual;  he's in his room playing."

She turned to give Abby her money, then picked up the stack 
of mail that was waiting for her on the side table.

"Thanks, Mrs. Mulder."

Would she ever get used to that?  "Bye, Abby."  She locked 
the door behind the young girl and started shuffling through 
the pile of mail.  She smiled at the sight of the letter with a 
Colorado State University return address.  She set that one 
aside from the bills and went to the kitchen to fix Ben a 
snack;  it would probably be a later-than-usual dinner by the 
time Mulder got in, and no doubt he'd need a little 
something to tide him over.

She opened a cupboard and started to pull down a few items 
when she caught sight of the dog in the living area... curled 
up comfortably on the couch.  Scully flashed him an 
admonishing glance, but his tail wagged excitedly as she 
approached him.  "Come on you... outside."  He got up 
obediently and followed her to the kitchen door.  She let him 
out into the backyard.  As she returned to the kitchen and 
started the task of putting Ben's snack together, she 
wondered what they were going to do about that dog...

A few weeks earlier she and Mulder had been inside going 
over some files for an article they were working on when 
Ben, who had been playing in the back yard came quietly 
into the room and peered at her over her file.  "If I caught a 
wolf would you let me keep him, Mommy?"  She and Mulder 
had exchanged a look, then Mulder had bolted up from his 
chair with Scully following behind as they went outside to 
see what on earth Ben could be talking about... there were no 
wolves in the area.  Besides, their back yard was fenced in 
with a child-proof latch, so unless someone had forgotten to 
close it, there was no way an animal that size could've gotten 
in.  But as they headed down the back steps they saw him:  a 
very large, grayish dog with striking features-- mixed breed, 
definitely some shepherd in there, but Ben was right:  he did 
look a little like a wolf.  Ben had begged that they keep him, 
and Mulder and Scully agreed to let him stay while they put 
an add for a lost dog in the paper and waited for his owners 
to respond.  But as the weeks passed, that prospect was 
growing remote, and Ben was growing more attached to him 
with each passing day.  Scully had to admit, they all were.  
He was very well behaved and a joy to have around.  Even 
Owen, who had initially greeted the large intruder with 
wide-eyed indignation quickly came to view him as his 
friend and some-time pillow.  Ben had decided to call him 
Loki, after a character in his favorite book; a children's 
adaptation of Norse myths and legends.  In the book, Loki, 
the mischievous, trouble making son of a giant, was 
portrayed as a wolf.  It was just another step in Ben's 
increasing devotion to the animal and Scully started to 
consider what they should do.  He was a good dog, but she 
and Mulder didn't really want to handle the extra 
responsibility, especially with the upcoming move and a new 
baby on the way.  It was bad timing, plain and simple.

Ben ran into the room and hugged her legs.

Speak of the devil.  "Hi you,"  she said softly, bending over 
to caress his back.  "Did you have fun with Abby?"

He nodded and she straightened to turn back to the counter, 
but Ben wouldn't release his hold.

She looked down and could see that he was smiling.  "Ben, 
I'm making you a snack.  Are you hungry?"  she tried, 
stifling her own smile.  "Ben..."

He tightened his hold around her legs.

"So is that how you wanna play it?"  She bent down and 
picked him up, holding him upside down by the waist and 
carrying him into the living area.

Ben laughed in delight, his hair sticking straight out as she 
held him upside down, and they entered the room.

Scully deposited him on the couch and tickled his midsection 
as he continued to squirm with laughter on the sofa.  Amidst 
the commotion Ben's sneaker went flying and landed 
somewhere on the other side of the room.  Scully teased him:  
"I'm gonna get your shoe, Ben!"

He squealed and bounded off the couch to beat her to it.  

Scully gave him a head start, but easily headed him off, 
scooping Ben up like a football in one arm and reaching for 
the shoe with her free hand.  He was laughing uncontrollably 
now in a continuous string giggles that she treasured every 
second of.  Scully settled him on the couch.  "Okay let's get 
your shoe on."

Ben calmed and, still smiling at her, stuck out his foot.

Scully wriggled the shoe back on, unaware that Ben was 
watching her intently, his face turned more serious as those 
little wheels turned in his head.

"What's your name, Mommy?"

She worked at tying the laces.  "My name?"

"Besides Mommy."

Scully smiled as she looked up at him.  "Dana."  He watched 
her curiously and she knew what he was thinking.  She'd 
been expecting to have this particular conversation someday, 
though she didn't expect to have it so soon:  he was 
wondering why everyone called her Dana... except his father.  
Until he might understand better, she decided to make it as 
simple as possible.  "Scully is my middle name, Ben.  Like 
you have 'William'.  And it's sort of like a nickname, you 
know?"

Ben thought for a minute then tilted his head to the side.  
"Like Jack?"

"That's right."  Jack was a boy in Ben's preschool class who's 
real name Ben knew was John, but who everyone called by 
his nickname.

"Can I call you that?"

Scully rested a hand on his and smiled at him.  She leaned 
closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially.  "You know, I 
kind of like it when you call me Mommy."  She shook her 
head at him.  "Nobody else calls me that."

Ben smiled at her.  That seemed to satisfy him; he hopped 
off the couch and started to run off towards his room.

Scully sat on the couch and reached behind her to the side 
table, taking off the letter she'd put aside earlier.  "Wait a 
minute, Ben-- look what you got."

He turned around and his face filled with excitement at the 
sight of the letter.  He came back into the room and sat down 
next to his mom on the couch.  He looked up at her 
expectantly.  "Open it, Mommy, read it!"

She carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of 
notebook paper inside.  Scully knew Samantha was swamped 
at school, but once a week she took the time to write a quick 
note to her special little guy.  "You can read that, Ben.  What 
does it say?"

He peered carefully at the word she was pointing to, running 
his finger over each letter.  Finally, he looked up, motioning 
to himself with a thumb.  "Ben-- that's me!"

Scully smiled at him.  "That's right.  It says: 'Dear Ben, how 
are you?  It was so great to see you over Christmas.  I put the 
picture you made for me up in my dorm room and everyone 
says how much they like it.  Everything is going well here, 
but I have lots of homework!  Be good, I'll see you soon.  
Love, Samantha'."  She handed the letter back to him and 
helped him fold it back into the envelope.  "You going to put 
it with the others?"

He nodded and headed off to his bedroom.

Scully got up and headed for the kitchen to finish up with 
the food.  But first... she needed some Saltines;  morning 
sickness and returned full force this time around... and it did 
not limit itself to mornings.  She had just about reached the 
kitchen when the doorbell sounded.

Years ago, she never would've opened her door without 
knowing who it was;  years of working on the X-files had 
fashioned her into quite the little paranoid.  But living for so 
long in safety had fostered a sense of security in her that had 
long since worked at lowering her defenses.  It was 
something she'd always regret.

Scully went to the door and started to open it.  She hadn't 
even opened it a foot when she saw him, and immediately 
tried to slam it back shut the minute her brain registered who 
it was and sent the danger flaring through every nerve in her 
body.

Joel stuck his foot out and prevented the door from closing.  
"Dana..."  He smiled at her.  "Please, I just want to talk to 
you."

Scully stood paralyzed with shock.  She had almost 
completely forgotten about him;  it had been years.  And she 
was terrified and vulnerable as she stood there with her door 
open to him.  She cautiously opened it slightly but moved to 
prevent him from entering.  Scully observed him:  his clothes 
were somewhat bedraggled, his beige overcoat dingy with 
wear, stubble framed his jaw, there were dark circles under 
his eyes.  His hair was a little longer than she remembered it.  
She spoke strongly:  "I have nothing to say to you Joel.  And 
besides, I can't talk now anyway, I'm going out.  My mother's 
expecting me and if I'm late..." she lied.

"Sure okay.  I was just in town and thought I'd see how you 
were doing."

Scully continued to watch him carefully, feeling like she was 
in some bizarre nightmare; everything was moving in slow 
motion.  Her body remained alive with tension, she did *not* 
trust him.  "I'm sorry.  Good bye."

He started to turn to leave, then faced her again.  "Oh, Dana-
-  one more thing--"

Scully saw it in a split second, something change in his eyes 
a moment before it happened.

Joel kicked the door open with one swift movement and 
reached for her;  grabbing her by the throat with a single 
hand and forcing her back into the room.  He kicked the door 
closed behind him with his foot.

Scully could not believe this was happening; not now, after 
all this time.  She'd hardly given the man a second thought-- 
last she heard he'd been transferred to the Bismarck field 
office.  But what she didn't know was that he hadn't lasted 
long in his new position;  that after a series of screw-ups and 
reprimands he was quietly asked to leave the Bureau.  And 
of course, he'd blamed it all on her.  After all, she was the 
one who got him transferred in the first place, so naturally it 
was her fault that things had not gone well once he was 
there.  She had ruined everything;  she had destroyed a 
promising career, all of his dreams and ambitions, and in his 
mind, humiliated him in the process.  And he had spent the 
last four years cultivating a hatred that would not diminish.

All the cases they'd investigated, all the horrifying things she 
had seen, she was never more terrified than she was as she 
saw the madness in Joel's eyes.  He was a man who had 
spent years walking that fine thread of sanity and who had 
finally seen it snap.

He backed her into the middle of the living area and threw 
her onto the floor.  He got down and straddled her, retaking 
his hold on her throat.  His grip tightened around her neck 
and her ears started to ring,  but she could still hear the 
muffled sound of the dog barking:  he was scratching wildly 
at the back door in the kitchen and barking incessantly, 
sensing the danger inside.  It was working him into a rabid 
frenzy, and Scully hoped to God that someone would hear 
him, if only someone would hear him...

Joel pulled a small knife from his coat pocket and held it in 
front of her face.

Her eyes widened but she could not speak.

Running the blade lightly down her throat to her collarbone, 
he applied more pressure as he drew it down to the collar of 
her shirt.  The knife left a warm sensation in its wake and 
Scully knew he'd cut her long before the pain registered.  
She cried out, and, squirming a hand free, took hold of his 
wrist.  She was successful in freeing her other hand as she 
pushed the blade away from her skin, and a struggle for 
control of the knife ensued.

"Mommy!"

Scully and Joel both looked over at the entrance to the 
hallway.  Scully's face filled with terror, and Joel's... Joel 
looked like the hyena that's just found a cub of his mortal 
enemy, the lion, who's strayed from the pride.  He got up and 
walked towards Ben, bending over to talk to him.  He spoke 
for the first time:  "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"

Ben stood frozen in place, his eyes fixed on the man's other 
hand... the one with the knife.  His eyes widened at the sight 
of blood on the blade.

Joel started to reach for him when Scully tackled him from 
behind, throwing herself over his stooped body and locking 
her arms around his neck.  "Ben run!"

Ben stared at her unmoving.  Instinct told him to run but his 
love for his mother kept him glued in place;  he didn't want 
that man to hurt her anymore.

"Ben you do as your Mommy tells you, you run!  Go hide!"

He turned quickly and ran down the hall to his parent's 
bedroom.  He closed the door behind him and looked around 
the room for a good place to hide.  Getting on his hands and 
knees, he scooted under the bed and covered his eyes with 
his hands.  And he listened to the most horrible sound in the 
world...

Scully gave Joel a run for his money.  She and Mulder had 
stayed in pretty good shape, but they were in no where near 
the condition they'd been in when they worked for the 
Bureau.  And as they continued to struggle, Scully could feel 
her strength draining;  try as she might, she was just no 
match for the force of his fury.

And then a horrible realization came over her:  she was 
going to lose this battle.  "Joel, please.  Please don't hurt 
him.  Don't hurt my baby.  I'll give you anything you want, 
I'll do anything you want..."

Joel had her pinned back on the floor.  He leaned his face in 
close to hers and said softly, "Singing a different tune this 
time are we?  Well so am I Dana.  This isn't a game 
anymore."

"I never thought it was a ga--"

"Shut UP!"  He seemed to physically calm himself, then he 
scoffed at her.  "Do you really think I want anything from 
you?  Least of all that?  Sorry Dana, but frankly, you just 
don't interest me that way anymore.  There's nothing I want 
from you."

"Then please, Joel,  I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you--"  
she closed her eyes and prepared for the blow as he raised a 
hand, as if to strike her.

But he didn't.  Instead he stopped himself, clenching his 
hand into a fist and hissing at her through clenched teeth.  
"DON'T say that to me.  I don't want to hear that from you!"  
he yelled.  Pausing, he lowered his voice.  "Words, Dana.  
Just words.  Do you think I owe you some kind of mercy?  
That's laughable, truly laughable.  After what you did to me?  
And now you ask for mercy?  I don't think so.  You ruined 
everything that mattered to me, my entire life.  Now I'm 
going to make you pay with yours.  And while your lying 
here with the life bleeding out of you, the last thing you're 
going to hear while you're drawing in your dying breath is 
the sound of your little boy screaming."

The thought was more than she could bear.  A single plea 
was carried out on the breath that was able to escape her 
throat:  "No..." She shook her head at him.

"And you can know that your beloved spent the rest of his 
days mourning the death of his precious wife and son.  Of 
course, I am assuming that it is his son;  Jesus he looks just 
like him."

Joel brought the knife back to her throat, and she could see 
so clearly... this was it.  She never imagined it would be this 
way; she always thought she'd just hit the wall-- she never 
thought she'd see death coming, that she would be tortured 
by its approach.

But while they had been battling for control of the knife on 
the floor in the living area, so intent were they on their 
struggle that neither of them saw Ben sneak back out into the 
room.  Neither of them saw him slip quietly into the kitchen.  
And neither of them heard him open the back door.

As the point of the blade pricked the tender flesh under her 
chin, Scully suddenly became aware of some kind of 
commotion from the kitchen.  Joel looked up to see what was 
going on, Scully pushed her head back against the floor to 
look back so that she could do the same.  They both saw it at 
the same time:  the dog was barreling toward them, a look in 
his eyes that was hungry and no less crazed than the one in 
Joel's.  Scully closed her eyes as a blur of gray passed over 
her face and into the man holding her down.

A low grunt escaped Joel as 120 pounds hit him full force 
and sent him backward onto the floor.

Scully lay there momentarily paralyzed, surprised to find 
herself suddenly freed from her captor.  Then, with a start 
she scrambled away and stood.  The dog was tearing into 
Joel ferociously, his teeth clamped like a vice on his arm.  
Joel took a swing and his fist made contact with the side of 
the dog's muzzle, but it only infuriated the animal further.  
He resumed his attack with renewed resolve, a continuous 
low growl warning against further blows, and Scully 
wondered how on earth this could be the same sweet devoted 
creature that followed her around like a guardian angel and 
who played with Ben with the gentleness of a doe with her 
fawn.  And it struck her how absolutely wrong she had been 
about timing.

And Joel found himself confronted by an unrelenting furor 
that far surpassed his own.  "Get him off me GET HIM 
OFF!" he screamed.

Scully pulled herself together and turned around quickly.  
"Ben!"  She moved around behind the couch and took his 
hand, leading him back to the bedroom with her.

Ben looked back over his shoulder as they went, his face 
filled with grief and fear as he watched the scene in the 
living area.  "Mommy... Loki!"

But Scully didn't even hear him;  she went into the closet 
and pulled down the lock-box from the top shelf.  Punching 
in the code, she removed its contents and headed for the 
door.  "Stay here."  Her voice was cold, determined, and her 
eyes reflected the same detachment.  She'd made Joel a 
promise, and she intended to keep it.  She slid the clip in 
place and closed the door behind her.  

Man and beast were still locked in battle as she re-entered 
the living room, and Man was losing.  Scully charged her 
weapon and as if somehow sensing what was next, the 
animal ceased his attack and ran off, but remained at a 
distance with a watchful eye.  Joel got to his feet and 
stumbled towards her, still wielding his weapon, rage 
seeming to blind him to hers...

The minute his mother shut the door Ben went to it, leaning 
close to listen to what was going on in the other room.  
Then, two deafening sounds cracked through the air, the first 
jolting him out of his skin and the second sending his hands 
up over his ears.

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

As Mulder turned onto their street, he immediately caught 
sight of the flashing lights;  at first he though someone had 
had a fire on the street.  As he neared their home his heart 
started to beat faster;  they were on his side of the road.  And 
as he pulled up to his driveway the panic washed over him, 
he broke out in a cold sweat--  they were in front of his 
house.

Mulder ran for the door and entered quickly, flashes of a 
similar scene so long ago, of yellow police tape and crowds 
of detectives, of forensic unit personnel flooding his partner's 
apartment flashing in his mind.  The first thing he saw was 
the blood stain on the floor.  His heart sank.

A uniformed officer restrained him as he tried to enter the 
room.  "Sir you can't go in there..."

He struggled against him to get past.

Another officer approached and took hold of his arm.  "Sir, 
please."

Seeming to see the two men for the first time, Mulder yelled 
at them.  "Where's my wife?!"

"If you'll just calm down--"

"Where is she?!"  He turned his head quickly toward the 
hallway at the sound of her voice.

"Mulder!"

His entire body visibly relaxed as he moved down the 
hallway to her, dropping his hands to his sides in relief.  
"Ben?"

"He's fine."  She motioned to the bedroom.  "He's in with one 
of the officers, I didn't want him to see..." she motioned over 
to the blood stain with her hand, but unable to bear actually 
looking at it, she kept her eyes on the floor, "I didn't want..."  
An officer brought a piece of tarp over and covered the area.

Mulder held her shoulders.  "What happened?  That blood..."

She dropped her hand back to her side.  "Joel."

"Joel?"  Mulder wasn't quiet sure he was hearing her right.

She nodded her head at him.  "Joel," she repeated, then 
recounted to him what had happened.  When she was 
finished she looked up at Mulder.  She had been strong for 
Ben; strong because she had to be.  But now, seeing Mulder 
stand there before her, she was having a hard time fighting 
back the tears. He wrapped his arms securely around her, 
and feeling that strength, she found sanctuary in his arms, 
and let the tears fall.

When the she had quieted, Mulder stepped back, still 
holding her shoulders, and took in the sight of her for the 
first time:  her shirt was torn, there was drying blood on the 
front of it, and there were long deliberate cuts just below her 
collarbone.  They weren't deep, but they were enough to 
make his stomach turn in disgust and outrage.  He brought a 
hand up to lightly finger the wounds, and he could feel the 
anger spreading like fire through his soul.  That son of a 
bitch had attacked her both times she was pregnant, and both 
times he hadn't been there to help her.  And now he was left 
feeling even more helpless, because the bastard was already 
dead;  he wouldn't even have the satisfaction of making him 
pay for what he'd done to her.  Mulder shook his head and 
thought about how close he'd come to losing her... he could 
never bear to lose her again...  Sliding slowly to his knees, he 
embraced her midsection, as always finding comfort there.  
And slowly, the alleviation settled over him.  A few seconds 
later he felt a small hand on his shoulder and turned his 
head to see Ben watching him.

Ben patted his shoulder lightly.  "Don't cry, Daddy."

Mulder couldn't help but smile at him.  He rested a hand on 
Ben's shoulder.  And he was never more grateful to another 
human being as he was at that moment.  "That was a very 
brave thing you did, Ben.  Are you okay?"

Ben nodded.  "But I didn't do anything, it was him."  He 
pointed over at Loki, sitting patiently while a paramedic 
bandaged the knife wound on his left front paw, then looked 
back at his father.  He placed his hands on his hips in a 
stance that was classic Scully.  "*Now* can we keep him?"

Mulder stood and looked down at Scully.  Their eyes held, 
then Mulder looked back down at Ben with a hint of a smile.

That weekend, they put up a dog house in the back yard.

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

The End