Title: S.N.A.F.U. Chapter 35 - 40

Author: Emily Sim

Rating: Mature Adults only

Category: M/O S/O (brief/past) MSR Angst/Mythology AU

Spoilers: Seasons 2 - 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own them and no money changed 

hands, I always put them back when I'm done.

Notes: At the end



Feedback to: xf_emily_sim@yahoo.ca



Summary: What if Kristen Kilar wasn't dead, at least not in 

the traditionally understood definition of dead.



Chapter 35



Krycek felt the weight of his gun as a small comfort while 

he waited. The street was crowded and far enough away from 

where he was staying that he wasn't worried about someone 

finding Marita. He hadn't wanted to leave the warm confines 

of his bed, but this meeting had been prearranged. It would 

not bode well for him to miss it. 



He rocked from foot to foot observing the crowd, looking 

for anyone who might have been sent to intercept. There 

were times, like today, when he grew tired of the whole 

cloak and dagger routine. There had been a time once, when 

he'd wanted a different kind of life for himself. It was 

his misfortune to have been born to something other than an 

ordinary life. 



"Planning a little trip, are you Alex?"



Krycek was adept at thinking on his feet and had learned 

long ago to keep his cards and his emotions close to his 

chest. It kept him in the game despite Spender's attempts 

to rattle him. He learned to lie brazenly, a skill he 

employed with regularity, a tactic to protect his own 

interests. He was a master at ferreting out information and 

using it to his own advantage. It also helped that he was 

resourceful when it came to saving his own ass, even when 

it meant selling out those he cared for. 



Although he felt a modicum of _something_ towards Marita, 

he would not hesitate to pin the child's disappearance on 

her if the need arose. 



"Arriving, leaving, does it matter?" 



Spender pulled out a cigarette, making a small production 

of lighting it. "That depends on who or what you may be 

concealing, doesn't it, Alex?"



"Your eyes must be failing you." Krycek held his good hand 

up, fingers splayed. "See, nothing here and," -- he lifted 

his artificial arm -- "well, not much I can do with this 

one now, is there?"



"My mistake." Spender's voice was oily. "Pity about the 

child disappearing. Wouldn't you agree, Alex?" 



"Pity? Or opportunity? It's all in how you look at it, 

isn't it?" Krycek felt for the gun tucked at his side.



"There won't be any need for that." Spender focused briefly 

on where Krycek had placed his hand. "It's just an 

observation."



He let his partially finished cigarette drop to the 

sidewalk. "Make sure you remember our agreement."



"Do I have a choice?"



"We all have choices. Have a good day, Alex."



Krycek watched until Spender disappeared around the street 

corner. 



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



Mulder had meant to go straight to Scully's place. He had 

called a cab and had been waiting for it outside the front 

door when the call came. Now he found himself heading in 

the opposite direction and on his way to meeting yet 

another anonymous informant who promised to give him what 

he needed. The grey buildings were a blur as the taxi sped 

down the beltway towards Boomers, a trendy piano bar on the 

other side of the Potomac. A rather odd choice for a 

meeting, considering the back alleys, secluded garages, and 

deserted landscape most of his contacts chose. He didn't 

recognize the voice, but considering the venue, figured 

he'd be as safe as he could be.



He thought about calling Scully. He'd started dialing her 

number a couple of times but disconnected before finishing. 



When he got to the bar and took up residence in the back 

corner as instructed, he thought about calling again, but 

this time didn't even make it to flipping the phone open, 

instead turning it off and tucking it back in his pocket 

with his keys. He didn't want to have an argument with her 

over the phone, nor did he want to worry her at this time 

of night, not when she was supposed to be resting.



He opted for black coffee and a glass of water instead of 

more alcohol, noticing the waitress wrinkle her nose 

slightly as she took his order. He wasn't sure if it was 

because of how he looked or how he smelled. He would have 

to stop and clean up before he -- 



Ah fuck. What did we have here?



"Let me guess, reports of your death were premature?"



"Sarcasm never did suit you, Fox." Diana Fowley slid into 

the opposite chair. 



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

Marita tucked the blanket around Hannah, a small, 

humourless smile on her face. She marveled that Alex could 

be so na•ve as to still believe he was in control; to think 

that those around him were blind to his machinations. She 

had long ago dismissed such notions as the romantic stuff 

of spy novels, stories in which the good guys always won 

and the handsome hero got the girl. She was no longer a 

girl, perhaps no longer capable of basic female biology. 

Her blood flowed with alien technology as surely as Alex 

would bleed red if she cut him. 



She no longer held any illusions regarding whose game she 

played; it was neither hers nor his. She wondered if Krycek 

would ever realize it, but concluded it didn't really 

matter. There was this one thing she could do, and she 

would, damn the consequences to her or their precious 

project. Hannah stirred and she stroked the little girl's 

arm, quieting her. She wouldn't wake for several hours yet. 



The rocking of the train was soothing and though she 

allowed herself to relax, she fought the desire to let 

herself drift too much. She had hidden her tracks well, but 

it wouldn't do to be overconfident or to underestimate 

Spender's reach. She felt fairly safe choosing this 

roundabout method to her destination, but had learned early 

on to be ready for anything. 



"Wurden Sie gesehen?" A large woman slid into the seat 

across from Marita and Hannah. 



"Nein. Englisch, Ilse. Er setzt zu viel Aufmerksamkeit auf 

uns."



"You are correct; it would not do to have others take 

notice." Ilse's accent was thick. "She will sleep, yes?"



"For at least three more hours. I have more if we need to 

keep her out longer."



"I hope it is not so, Mari. It is not good for one so 

little."



Marita smiled at Ilse's use of her pet name. "It will be 

okay. I made sure, Tante. It's good to see you again."



"Gut. Good," she quickly added in English. "And it is good 

to see you too, Mari."



"Thank you for helping us."



"How could I not, my little Mari? These men, they have 

changed, become evil. You would do well to be rid of them."



Ilse wasn't a blood relative, but she had essentially 

raised Marita. None of what had gone on with the project 

and Marita's family's role in it had gone unnoticed by the 

German housekeeper, but she had managed to look after the 

Covarrubias household without too much interference from 

members of the Consortium. Those who were present during 

that time seemed to give a wide berth to the woman, all 

except for Spender, of course. Spender had been the only 

regular visitor who dared make suggestions to the large, 

abrasive woman. Even Strughold held his tongue with Ilse. 



It had surprised Marita when Jeffery had attempted to 

rescue her from Fort Marlene, but it was Strughold who 

called for Ilse when Krycek dumped her on his doorstep. 

That had been after the whole El Rico debacle, and she was 

grateful he'd failed to procure her release until much 

later that fateful night. She was certain she would have 

been among the dead. 



"Mari, you are miles from me." Ilse leaned forward and 

patted her hand.



"Sorry." 



"What about her mama?"



Marita's smile was cold and the Mari of Ilse's memories 

faded as the woman she had become replaced her. Marita felt 

it as if it was a physical change that took place. 



Every bit the professional, she straightened up in her 

seat. She felt a slight tinge of regret at leaving Alex in 

the lurch, though her pity was short lived. Alex wouldn't 

think twice at using her if the need arose. His biggest 

flaw was in thinking he could play with fire and not get 

burned. Alex had an unrealistic view of his own 

indestructibility. 



"She will be taken care of, Tante."



"This is good then. You rest now, Mari. Ilse will keep 

watch." She lifted her jacket slightly, giving Marita a 

glimpse of the weapon tucked into the waistband of her 

pants. 



"I am not so blind after all." She let the jacket close.



Marita smirked. No, not so blind. Perhaps she had 

underestimated Ilse all these years. She leaned her head 

back and closed her eyes.



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



"Can I buy you a drink, Fox?" Diana chuffed quietly at his 

startled look. "Has it been so long since anyone has 

exercised manners around you that you've forgotten to use 

yours?"



"Manners? From you and that band of thieves you've thrown 

in with?"



"Are you drunk?" She noted his reddened eyes and the smell 

of whiskey that seemed to surround him.



"What if I am?" 



"I didn't come here for a fight, Fox."



"What _are_ we doing here, Diana? And while we're on that 

subject, should I be checking out the colour of your 

blood?"



She had expected hostility, but what she hadn't banked on 

was the coldness. She'd forgotten how frosty it could get 

when Fox felt he was backed into a corner. Add alcohol to 

the mix and he could be downright nasty.



"I'm here at great personal cost." She waited until the 

waitress had placed a glass of white wine in front of her 

before continuing. "If they found out I called you, that 

I've seen you, well...." She let the sentence hang.



"If you're trying to appeal to some sense of loyalty I 

might still have towards you, you've grossly overestimated 

your importance in my life, Diana. But that isn't unusual 

for you, is it? You always did have a twisted sense of your 

own importance."



She winced at the calculating tone in his voice. He could 

certainly be a bastard when he wanted to. This wasn't going 

how she planned at all. 



"I'm sorry, Fox." She really was sorry. Sorry for leaving 

him, for her part in deceiving him, sorry for all he had 

suffered knowing she had contributed to it. She watched his 

expression soften just the tiniest bit. "My life hasn't 

been my own for a long time."



"Neither has mine, Diana. But I haven't resorted to selling 

out my friends." His voice had lost the edge and he 

appeared worn out. For the first time she noted the grey 

under his eyes. Sleep had always been a precious and rare 

commodity for him.



"Just friends? I was hoping I had meant more than that at 

one time." She slid her hand across the small table to lay 

her fingers gently on top of his and was encouraged when he 

didn't pull away. "I never meant to hurt you."



"No one does, do they? But it happens all the same. Why 

don't you save us both the trouble of playing this game and 

just tell me why you wanted to meet me." And then he did 

pull away from her.



She took a deep breath. "I -- we know -- Hannah -- that 

you've been pursuing the case --"



"Is that the royal _we_? The Spender and Fowley we?" 



"Fox --"



"So far you haven't said anything helpful. Most of my 

informants provide at least a crumb of useful information, 

Diana."



"It wasn't easy to come here, you know. If anyone were to 

find out --"



He cut her off. "Yes, you keep saying that. Is there 

anything else?"



"I just thought you'd want to know about Hannah, that's 

all." She fished a ten-dollar bill from her purse and 

placed it on the table. "I guess I was mistaken."



"Wait." His hand on her arm burned with familiarity. "I 

want to hear what you have to say."



"Okay." Diana settled back into her chair. "The cloning 

program was one of the key features of the Consortium's 

endeavors. But you know something about that, don't you?"



"My sister?"



"Yes."



"Do you know where she is?"



"That is the one thing I don't know. 



"Is she alive?"



She shook her head. "If I knew anything I would have told 

you. Honestly, Fox.  I owed you that much. The program -- 

they've been at it for years, further back than anyone 

realizes. Kristen had been the third of three clones they'd 

created in a new series."



"We guessed that much from the lack of green blood, Diana."



"Yes, I imagine you would have." His use of we was not lost 

on her.  "Unfortunately, the tradeoff caused instability in 

the cerebral cortex. The first clone degenerated at an 

alarming rate. Her behaviour became more erratic and 

bizarre until the staff became worried that she would hurt 

someone. They had to destroy her."



He nodded for her to continue.



"The second wasn't much better; she just took a little 

longer to break down. The third time was the charm. The 

Japanese scientists were convinced they'd solved the 

problem. There appeared to be an incompatibility between 

two of the elements used to make the synthetic blood. I 

don't understand all the interactions."



"Scully would." 



She stiffened at the mention of his partner, though he 

seemed to be talking more to himself. "They gave Hannah to 

her. Hannah needed someone to look after her and they were 

interested in what might happen."



"Why Kristen? Why not one of the Samantha's?"



"I don't know." But she did. Spender didn't like her 

attachment to any member of the Mulder family, including 

Hannah. He took perverse delight in dangling Fox in front 

of her and watching her squirm. She felt she owed her 

former lover to at least see his sister's child raised with 

someone who cared for her, who saw her as more than a lab 

rat. She had been allowed to take care of the little girl 

for the first year. By the end of that year her uncle and 

Spender decided she was far too invested in the little girl 

and the Kristen solution was hatched. 



"What happened?"



"Kristen was genuinely fond of Hannah. That was a little 

unusual, as the clones don't have any natural feelings. 

Everyone figured that the relationship itself added an 

element of stability the other two Kristen's lacked. Her 

visit to you surprised almost everyone."



"Almost? You weren't surprised?"



"No, I was startled all right. Krycek, on the other hand --

"



"That bastard. Whose side is he pretending to be on this 

time?"



"Alex Krycek is always on his own side. I was supposed to 

watch him, know what he was doing.  However he managed to 

grab her, he did so without alerting anyone."



"I'll bet he did. Fuck. The thought of that bastard near 

Hannah...."



"He loved her, Fox. If I had to guess at his motivations 

I'd bet he was trying to help her."



"Help her? By kidnapping her?"



"He spent much of the last two years with them. I don't 

know if he saw her declining like the other Kristen clones 

or if it was something else. I think he thought he was 

saving her."



"So, where is she -- oh, don't tell me, you've no idea? 

These guys know when I take a piss for God's sake, and you 

want me to believe they lost her?"



"_I_ lost her. They were my assignment." 



"You lost her. Is that supposed to make me feel better?"



"Not everything is about you, Fox."



"No, it isn't, is it? Which is why I should go." He stood 

abruptly. "Take care, Diana." 



He dropped some bills on the table and was gone before she 

could respond.



"Bye." She whispered softly. Diana had few regrets, but Fox 

Mulder was one of them. And it wouldn't help matters if she 

allowed those emotions to cloud her judgment. If her uncle 

had done one thing well, it had been to instill an 

obligation to the cause deep within her. She held onto it 

now like a lifeline. She needed to believe that one day it 

would be worth the sacrifices they all had to make. 



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



Chapter 36



Alex stuck the key in the lock, alarmed when there was no 

resistance. He took a moment to pull out his gun before 

slowly turning the knob. Crouched down as he eased the door 

open, he was poised and ready for whatever he found on the 

other side.



The apartment was silent.



He crept quietly, keeping his back against the wall as he 

came around the corner, right into the barrel of a gun. 



"Are you looking for someone?" A man he knew only by voice 

held the gun steady and stepped closer.  



"Funny, I don't think I left the door open."



"Let me have the gun, Alex." The man didn't wait and in a 

deft move had it in his hand with the clip emptied before 

Krycek could react. 



"Well, this certainly is quite the welcome home."



"Where are they?" 



"You've been here longer than I have, you tell me."



"Just answer the question, Alex."



"What the fuck is this? I thought we were on the same 

side?"



"And which side is that?" 



"I don't need to stand here like some two bit lackey and 

put up with your shit. Whose dirty work are you doing this 

time?"



"My loyalties are not the question here, Alex. Perhaps 

yours should be?"



"Mine are where they've always been."



"Yes, I can see that." He made a small gesture to the 

bedroom at the back. 



"Look, this is a little tiring. Can you get that thing off 

of me?" 



Krycek was surprised when he not only lowered his gun, but 

also handed his own weapon back. "My orders are to retrieve 

the child, not kill you. Where is she?"



"Tell me who sent you."



"That is no concern of yours, Alex. Where is the child?"



 "Look, Bob or Dan or whatever name you're going by this 

week, I had an appointment. They were here when I left; I'm 

guessing that they're not here now. So fuck if I know."

Krycek tucked the empty gun back in the waist of his jeans. 

The man before him may have been given orders not to shoot, 

but a physical attack was a real possibility. He wasn't 

about to be caught with his hands occupied if it came to 

that. 



"My name is of no consequence. However, turning up empty 

handed is." The movement was quick and Alex was glad he'd 

taken time to free his hands. The blows landed on his arm 

and he was able to use his prosthetic to return at least 

one awkward punch before a powerful blow to his abdomen 

doubled him over. 



"This doesn't relieve you of your obligations you realize. 

You are still expected tomorrow night."



"Wouldn't dream of missing it," Krycek managed to get out. 



The clip to his gun was tossed down as the man landed 

another blow to the back of his head. Alex felt it connect 

and then everything went black. 



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



"Mulder?"



He leaned against the wall next to her door, his phone in 

one hand and the key to her place in the other. "You're 

good, Scully. You should see if you can peddle your 

services to the local police station, give the Stupendous 

Yappi some competition."



"Why didn't you answer my calls earlier?" 



"My phone's been off. Look, can I come in?"



"It's the middle of the night, Mulder. Can't it wait?" 



"I'm right outside your door, Scully."



"What time is it anyway?"



"Late?" 



He could hear the resignation in her voice. "I'm coming."



"Just stay put, I'll use my key. You're supposed to be 

resting."



"Resting, right." She hung up on him.



Mulder entered to find her apartment dark and seemingly 

deserted. "Scully?"



"Just a minute." Her voice came from down the hall.



He turned on the light in her living room, suddenly tired 

of all the dark. A moment later, when he saw her face, he 

wished for it back. It was obvious from her puffy, red eyes 

that she'd been crying. Would he ever be the cause of 

anything other than grief in this woman's life? 



"God, Mulder, you smell like a bar. I hope you didn't 

drive."



"Skinner would agree with you. I took a cab."



"What's so important that you had to come here at this 

hour?"



He handed her the white envelope. "This." And a meeting 

you're not going to like, he added silently.



She turned it over in her hands before lifting the flap. He 

laid a hand on hers stopping her from pulling the papers 

out. 



"I thought -- could I use your shower while you take a look 

at that?" 



"Knock yourself out. But MulderÉ" 



He stopped at the clipped tone of her voice and turned 

around to face her.



"This doesn't mean I'm not mad," she added.



"Okay." He headed down the hall, grabbing a towel from the 

closet on his way by. He turned on the water, then stripped 

down. God, his clothing reeked of sweat and alcohol. He 

balled them up and tossed them into her hamper, realizing 

as he did so that he had forgotten his overnight bag in the 

trunk of the car. He hoped Scully had something of his 

hanging around that he could wear. Stepping under the spray 

of hot water, he ran his tongue over his teeth. Make that 

an extra toothbrush as well. 





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



Mulder rummaged through the vanity cupboard looking for a 

toothbrush. Scully always had spares of everything. He 

found what he was looking for in a small basket at the back 

that held an assortment of extras, including an opened box 

of condoms. He tried not to think about what that could 

mean as he squeezed out a liberal amount of toothpaste. He 

brushed his teeth relishing the feeling of being clean and 

mostly sober. Nothing like an old flame to run the alcohol 

right out of the system. He hesitated only a moment when he 

was done, wrapping the towel securely around his waist and 

opening the door a crack.



"Scully?" 



"On the floor, Mulder."



He looked down to discover clean sweats and a t-shirt 

neatly folded and sitting outside the door. "Thanks."



He scooped them up and ducked back into the bathroom to 

change. After giving his hair another quick rub with the 

towel, he folded it neatly over the towel rack. There was 

no need to aggravate Scully further. Taking a deep breath, 

he exited the bathroom. He couldn't hide in there forever. 



He found Scully curled into the corner of the couch with a 

blanket over her, apparently dozing. She opened her eyes 

and sat up when he stopped in front of her.



"I'm really sorry I woke you up, Scully. Why don't you go 

back to bed? We can do this tomorrow."



"You're here now, Mulder. And it is tomorrow."



"Yes, but it'sÉ" He craned his head to read the clock on 

her mantle. "Almost two a.m. It can wait a few more hours."



"Whatever."



"What's that supposed to mean?"



"Nothing. It doesn't have to mean anything."



"Look, I didn't come here to fight."



"What did you come for?" 



"The picture Skinner gave me, and this other -- thing." It 

was a toss up which of those two pieces of evidence he 

wanted to discuss least. He wearily sat down.



"I'm not going to fall apart, Mulder." Her voice became 

softer, losing the angry edge. "You didn't create those 

children, they did. I don't know what to think or do 

anymore. It's all, so -- so -- God, Mulder. They didn't ask 

for any of this; they're just children." 



Mulder was acutely aware of the one word she left out in 

her despair. Some of them were her children. And in a way, 

they were his as well. He regretted coming here with the 

information. She didn't need this right now. 



"Scully, I really am sorry I brought this here. I'm going 

to go and we can --"



"No." 



Her hardened tone startled him and he flinched as she 

leaned forward. He opened his mouth once and closed it 

quickly, realizing anything he said right now would be the 

wrong thing. 



"You don't come here and wake me up at two a.m., hand me 

that," -- she pointed to the papers lying on the table -- 

"and then tell me to go back to sleep, that we'll talk 

about it tomorrow."



She flung the blanket aside and stood. "You don't pick and 

choose which information you give me and which you 

withhold. Didn't we just go through this? Which part of 'I 

am your partner' do you not get? It means we share -- 

fifty-fifty. If you can't do that, then this isn't a 

partnership anymore."



Mulder could feel the blood drain from his face. "No, 

Scully. I'm --"



"Don't. Do not tell me you're sorry one more time. I swear 

I'll throw something."



"Okay." He took several deep breaths. If nothing else it 

helped keep his mouth shut while he furiously tried to 

think of something to say. She saved him the trouble.



"Where were you tonight?"



"I had a meeting."



"A meeting?" She began pacing. "Was it another of those 

clandestine ones? Black only, partner optional?"



He decided to ignore her barb. "I got a call soon after 

Skinner dropped the envelope off. Only the man who called 

wasn't who was waiting for me."



She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Oh?"



"Guess who's made a remarkable return to the land of the 

living?" He tried for levity but it fell flat. "It was 

Diana."



"I see."



"What do you see? I was deliberately misled, Scully. If I 

had known it was --"

 

"You wouldn't have gone?" Her laugh was harsh. "You would 

have gone anyway."



"Maybe, or maybe not. But the fact is I wasn't given a 

choice. Someone set me up, maybe even Diana." He did some 

pacing of his own. "I was there for all of thirty, thirty 

five minutes tops. Then I left. Why do I need to explain 

this?"

 

" I'm your partner and you need to respect that, not coddle 

me. I can't help you if you don't share information with 

me." 



"I'm --" He stopped at her raised hand. 



"Tell me now. What did you find out?" She sat back down and 

he relaxed at the softer tone in her voice. 



"I got some information regarding the project, but nothing 

we hadn't already guessed at, or that would help us find 

where they took Hannah. Or explain Diana's role beyond the 

obvious. Don't look so skeptical, Scully. I know she's 

involved." 



"Do you?"



"Diana seems to think Krycek took Hannah for her own 

safety. I don't know if I can even entertain that 

hypothesis. Krycek never does anything selfless."  



"Did she have any information about Samantha?"



He almost leaned over and kissed her for the genuine 

concern and gentle way she spoke of his sister. "She said 

she didn't know anything, but I'm doubtful as to the truth 

of that."



"You will find her one day."



He met her soft smile with one of his own. "It's late. The 

rest of the information can wait until tomorrow when we've 

had some sleep." 



He helped her up off the couch. "Let me tuck you in."



"It's late. Why don't you stay, Mulder?"



"Are you sure?"



She reached out, squeezed his hand and nodded in response. 

"I'll get the locks."



He watched her secure the apartment and moved to follow her 

down the hall to the bedroom. When she stopped by the linen 

closet he realized she meant for him to sleep on the couch. 



"I can get the blankets down." He tried to keep the 

disappointment out of his voice, but some of it must have 

leaked through.



"I can't, Mulder. I'm sorry. I need some time."



"Hey, it's okay, you've got all the time you need. But it 

doesn't change anything for me, just so you realize that."



"I can't say the same. Not right now."



"Oh."



"I have to be up early. I'll try not to wake you."



"Don't worry. I need to go home and grab a clean suit. 

Night, Scully."



"Night."



After she disappeared into her bedroom, he grabbed the 

extra bedding from the closet. He felt a deep pang of 

regret, acutely aware that this time things were going to 

be far more difficult to fix. 



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



Chapter 37



Diana shucked her jacket off and sank back onto the bed 

exhausted. It had been a grueling week with Hannah's 

disappearance and Spender's insistence that she handle the 

investigation, quietly and on her own. She had put enough 

together to understand the others had not been alerted to 

recent events. Spender was hoping to have the problem fixed 

and thus eliminate the need for anyone to know. 



Diana knew that at the very least her failure would result 

in her removal from the inner circle, the seat of power. At 

the worst it could cost her life. She didn't like either of 

those outcomes, which was why she was busy devising her own 

cleanup plan. She had invested far too much to lose 

position now. If anyone was going to be blamed for this it 

would be Alex Krycek. 



Alex had been given orders to keep Hannah safe. She should 

have known he wouldn't be able to keep his dick in his 

pants when Marita showed up. That woman seemed to hold sway 

over Alex in a way no one else did. It was still not clear 

how Marita had become involved, and Diana doubted it would 

be clarified, at least not to her. She wouldn't have put it 

past Spender to set the whole thing up. 



Marita, like Spender, appeared to float in her own bubble, 

unaffected by the shifts in power that seemed to be a 

constant part of the inner workings of the syndicate. Her 

Uncle Jurgen had discouraged any questions she had 

regarding either of them. Inherent in that discouragement 

was a veiled threat, and Diana knew even her uncle's 

protection wouldn't help if she went too far. The project 

always came first. If she had one thing, it was a strong 

sense of self-preservation. 



A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Only a select 

few knew this address so visitors were rare. She pushed 

herself off the bed and went to answer it. 



Diana opened the door to find Spender waiting, a grim 

expression on his face. "Nice to find you home." 



"Where else would I be, Charles?"



He pushed past her, his steps slow and measured. "Oh, I 

don't know. Out, perhaps?"



Diana sucked in a breath. She had set up the meeting with 

Mulder on her own. He hadn't exactly told her to avoid Fox, 

but she knew he wouldn't have been thrilled about her doing 

so. He was always reminding her that Mulder was her 

Achilles heel in spite of the fact that she had proved 

otherwise on more than one occasion. 



"What exactly are you getting at?" She decided vagueness 

might buy her some time. 



He pulled a cigarette from the ever-present package of 

Morleys and lit it. "Is that alcohol I smell, Diana?"



"I may have had a drink."



"May have? Come, come now. Do you take me for a fool?"



She didn't respond, instead meeting his calculating glare 

with one of her own.



"Your meeting, Diana." 



"My meeting is none of your concern."



"Everything is my concern in this particular case. 

Merchandise is missing Diana. What did you discover?"



 Diana grimaced. His veiled reference to Hannah, and her 

own ineptitude, wasn't lost on her. "He had no new 

information, nothing we didn't already know."



"Nothing?"



"It was a waste of time."



"Are you sure about that?"



Diana stiffened. "I'm sure."



"Because I think you still carry a torch for the man." 

Spender stubbed his cigarette out and moved closer. One 

finger lazily stroked the area above her breasts.



"Don't."



"Oh, but I want to, Diana." 



She closed her eyes as his fingers deftly undid the buttons 

on her blouse. She hated him for this even as her body 

responded favorably. 



"Mulder doesn't want you, but I do."



She gasped as he reached into her bra and twisted one 

nipple. Tonight he would be rough and she was grateful. 

Pain and pleasure would be a good mix after seeing Fox and 

being reminded of all that was lost. At the very least, 

with his mouth and hands busy, he would relegate Hannah and 

her failure to the back burner. 



"Open your eyes, Diana." The command was accompanied by a 

slap to her ass. 



"I want you to keep them open. When I fuck you tonight you 

will know it's me."



She nodded. So this was to be her penance for her mistake, 

to be denied her fantasies as he used her. 



It wasn't the worst thing that could happen. She forced a 

smile. "Do you want it here or in the bedroom?"



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



It was early morning when Krycek finally came to. It took 

him several minutes to realize that the night had passed 

with him blissfully unaware. He licked his lips, rough with 

dried blood. He could still taste the coppery tang in his 

mouth. Grunting and groaning he began to sit up, stopping 

when dizziness threatened to topple him again. He gently 

felt his ribs. It seemed that whoever he had the pleasure 

of meeting earlier had decided to have a little fun after 

he was knocked out. He wasn't sure if his ribs were bruised 

or broken. No matter, breathing would be difficult for the 

next few weeks. 



God, his head ached and he had to pee. He used the wall to 

brace himself and stood up. Deep breaths, he kept reminding 

himself. Each one pulled painfully on his ribs but he 

forced himself. Getting sick right now was not an option. 

He made his way to the bathroom, noting the mess in the 

apartment. It looked like his uninvited guest had decided 

to redecorate. It was of no concern to Alex; there was 

nothing of note kept in this place and after today it 

wouldn't be used again. 



He was relieved to see no blood in his urine. Bruised 

kidneys were a bitch. He threw cold water on his face and 

downed three Tylenols. He was still unsteady on his feet, 

and making his way to the kitchen was tricky. He had to let 

go of the wall when he reached the fridge. Rummaging 

through it he grabbed a yogurt and juice. He had work to do 

and an empty stomach on top of feeling like shit wouldn't 

help. He sat at the table and forced the food down, 

grimacing when he swallowed. 



The first order of business was to determine where Marita 

had gone and who may have helped her. He mentally kicked 

himself for not anticipating her actions. He knew how 

Marita operated, and running off with the girl was exactly 

something she would do. He replayed the events of their 

afternoon tryst. Did she initiate it? His head hurt like 

hell and it was hard to keep things straight. Did she see 

an opportunity for gain and decide to screw him into a 

stupor? 



Whatever Marita's motivation, it wouldn't help him now. He 

had to trust that even as heartless as she could be at 

times, she wouldn't harm a child. Marita had her own demons 

to slay with regards to the breeding program. 



Alex stood, forcing himself to take a deep breath and 

straighten up. First he would tend to the dried blood and 

the cuts, then he would make his way to another of his 

hideouts. He was a man with many contacts and means at his 

disposal. He had never been a victim and he wouldn't start 

playing that role now. He still had a job to do. 



And Alex Krycek always completed his work.



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



Chapter 38



The case had stalled. Two weeks of silence. There had been 

no more white envelopes slipped under the door, no Krycek 

waiting in the dark to drop another breadcrumb of 

information. The lack of movement from any quarter was the 

most telling of all. Either somebody had got exactly what 

they wanted, or something had gone horribly wrong. Although 

Mulder was still looking, keeping the file open, it really 

didn't matter much to Scully anymore. She had hit a wall 

and couldn't see a way over it.



For her, confirmation that there were other children out 

there, more Emily's, had been more than she wanted to know, 

despite the suspicions she'd harbored since that fateful 

December. So much for that whole truth setting you free 

bit; all this truth did was drive a deeper wedge into a 

partnership that was already fractured. 



She paused in the office hallway, using the wall to support 

her weight as another cramp sliced across her abdomen. It 

had been two weeks since Dr. Parenti had implanted the 

embryos and she didn't need anyone to tell her what was 

happening. It was a familiar feeling. Twice she'd gone 

through this. Twice she'd grieved the loss as if it had 

been a real child, something other than blood and cells her 

body rejected. She took a few deep breaths as the pain 

subsided and continued to make her way to the washroom. 



Another searing pain halted her progress, this time 

accompanied by a gush of liquid. She could feel it 

trickling out the sides of her underwear. So much for the 

heavy duty Kotex she'd used in anticipation of this; she 

hoped her panty hose would keep it contained until she 

could make it to the stall. 



She had done the lab work herself earlier in the morning, 

though there was little need for it. She already knew what 

was going to happen when she started spotting yesterday, 

but even in this she needed hard evidence. She refused to 

see it as anything other than gathering evidence. To do 

otherwise would be to face one more loss and she didn't 

think she had the capacity for that. Not right now with she 

and Mulder at odds, and Diana Fowley alive, ready and 

willing to step back into Mulder's life. 



She'd drawn the blood herself and asked one of the 

technicians she trusted to let her run it through. They 

were used to unusual requests from the Spooky Patrol so it 

didn't raise a red flag, at least a visible one. There was 

only so much that could be done to guard against the men 

hidden in the shadows. 



She'd already done a urine test; the blood work confirmed 

those results. Irrefutable, empirical data. She angrily 

swiped at a tear and continued her halting progress down 

the hall. For once she was grateful for the seclusion the 

basement office held.



She pushed open the bathroom door and made it to a stall 

before the cramping began in earnest. 



The most difficult part for Scully wasn't the pain. She was 

ready for it having tucked extra panties, hose, and extra 

strength Advil's into her bag that morning knowing what she 

faced.



The most difficult part right now was the guilt at the 

sense of relief she was feeling. It wasn't that she didn't 

want a child; it was just that the cost of this indulgence 

had never been clearer. 



And the price was too high.





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



Mulder was finding it hard to concentrate on what Skinner 

ways saying to him. His thoughts were focused on the empty 

chair and his absent partner who he had only seen briefly 

earlier this morning. She had seemed preoccupied, but of 

course everything was F.I.N.E. when he asked. He was 

getting so fucking sick of fine that he wanted to strike it 

from the English language. 



He had been unable to verify the information Diana had 

given him. There had been nothing he could uncover that 

lent any credence to her claims regarding the cloning 

project, but that didn't mean her claims were false. He'd 

seen the mark on Kristen's neck and Scully had been able to 

confirm the anomalies with her blood. 



And Hannah had seemingly vanished into thin air. He could 

find no trace of her. The guys had hacked the airline 

manifests of all the major carriers and some of the private 

ones as well. They had found nothing. He was tired of dead 

ends, lost little girls, and having Samantha dangled in 

front of him like a carrot on a stick.



"Agent Mulder, have you heard anything I've said here?" 



"I've heard you sir, and there isn't room in this 

department for another agent."



Skinner gave him a blank stare and Mulder felt his stomach 

lurch. 



"Scully?" Mulder stood, unsure how to read Skinner's barely 

perceptible nod. "Does she get any say?"



"It's out of my hands, Mulder. I wouldn't be assigning 

another agent if it wasn't." 



"Who? Who is being assigned to the X-Files? _Sir_." He knew 

Skinner wasn't at fault but felt stung anyway. 



"Agent Fowley."



"What? That's outrageous. Why wasn't I consulted?"



"Mulder, listen --"



"I will _not_ listen. What explanation did Agent Fowley 

give for her 'death'? Since when can an agent vanish and 

reappear with no questions asked?"



Skinner grimaced. "You know these men; there isn't anything 

they're incapable of orchestrating. The official 

explanation is that she was on assignment with the counter 

terrorism unit in an undercover role."



"Very convenient. Scully won't like it."



Skinner cleared his throat. "Agent Scully --"



"No -- whatever it is -- no."



"You have no choice, Mulder. Scully was temporarily 

assigned to Quantico earlier this morning." 



Mulder exploded. "Does she know?"



"I just came from a meeting with her; it was her suggestion 

to pursue that avenue." He whistled softly at Mulder's 

obvious surprise. "You weren't aware of our meeting. What 

the hell is going on between you two? 



"It's a long story."



"Is it about Hannah? Or Kristen?"



"It's about everything, Sir.  



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



"When were you going to tell me, Scully?"



"Mulder?" She entered the office to find him pacing. Not a 

good sign. 



"I just came from a meeting with Skinner who informs me 

that my _partner_ is considering other options."



Scully lowered herself to her chair. "Quantico is short 

staffed and we're essentially stalled right now. There's 

been no new evidence with either Hannah or Kristen, and 

Skinner's being pressured to close the file. This is a 

temporary assignment." 



"He said you were offered a choice."



"Offered, Mulder. I haven't said yes."



"The last time they separated us you ended up with a bullet 

that nearly killed you."



"This isn't the same thing. I'd only be there as a consult 

for the forensic team."



"He made it sound like you were leaving."



She cleared her throat. "Look, this is --"



"When were you going to tell me?"



"I'm telling you now."



"About the baby. The almost baby. The IVF. When were you 

going to tell me?" 



"I -- it --" She dropped her head into her hands hiding 

both her anguish at the hurt in his voice and the dull ache 

that cut across her abdomen.



"I saw the lab work, Scully. It wasn't hard to find 

considering you left it on your desk."



"I'm sorry." She met his eyes, feeling guilty. This mess 

was her fault. "I didn't mean for you to find out like 

this."



"And I didn't mean to snoop. I thought the folder might 

have been something about the case." He leaned against his 

desk, his attention focused on her. "Are you feeling okay? 

You look a little pale."



She opened her mouth to protest that she was fine when 

another sharp pain sliced across her abdomen. She watched 

Mulder's expression go from concern to thinly disguised 

panic. 



"Scully?" 



"Sorry, it's," - she winced - "a little painful."



"Do you mean to tell me that you're -- that it's happening 

right now? Fuck, Scully. You're sitting there having a 

miscarriage and we're discussing work?"



"It's only a miscarriage if it's a pregnancy. This is just 

some cramping."



"Cramping?" 



She watched him for several moments as he resumed pacing. 

He had a short circuit going and it was making her dizzy 

watching him. 



"I'm sorry, Mulder." Her eyes burned and her throat felt 

thick. She tried to remember how long it had taken last 

time before her hormones leveled out.



"It was a baby to me, Scully."



"Oh." Of course it was.



"I pictured her."



"Oh, Mulder. Don't do this." 



"She had blue eyes, but I couldn't decide if her hair would 

be red like yours or maybe brown and curly like Sam's."



"Mulder --" 



He whirled around to face her, hands on his hips. "No, 

Scully. _You_ don't. I can't do it anymore." 



"You can't do what?  Not everything is about you, Mulder."



"Is this about -- Diana? You're going to walk away because 

of her?"



She couldn't help a wince at the sound of the woman's name. 

"I'm not walking away. I need this right now."



"Help me understand; what do you need right now?"



"A hot water bottle would be nice."



"How can you joke? What is it with you?" His voice had 

adopted that sneering tone she knew all too well, and the 

cruel undertone hurt worse even than dealing with him drunk 

and morose. 



"What kind of a mother would I be?  Answer me that, will 

you? Who deliberately chooses to bring a child into," -- 

her arms swept across to encompass the office and the both 

of them -- "this madness? I don't know what I was 

thinking." 



"Well, I guess it's all good then. The decision has been 

taken out of your hands."



"Mulder --" 



"Where does that leave me?" 



"The same place you've always been."



"And where is that, exactly? You know, when you asked me to 

help you with the invitro I was concerned about a lot of 

those same things, but you -- _you_ convinced me that it 

would be okay, that we could manage it. So what happened? 

Was it the prospect of me as the father or the fact that 

little girls with the last name Mulder seem to disappear 

around me?"



"You know that's not it."



"No, I don't know that. Fuck." The expletive was 

accompanied by Mulder kicking over the wastebasket, sending 

bits of crumpled up paper skidding across the floor. 

 

"Mulder --"



"Not now." 



She was surprised when he didn't slam the door behind him. 



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



Chapter 39



"Rather unfortunate turn of events wouldn't you say, 

Doctor?"



"I am not God."



"I don't think anyone ever made that assumption." 



"Assumptions and expectations. Semantics." 



Spender took perverse delight in watching Parenti make 

every effort to remain calm, but the thin line of 

perspiration beading along his upper lip was a clear 

giveaway that he had rattled the doctor with his sudden 

arrival. Spender was aware the office staff had gone for 

the day and the cleaners weren't expected for several hours 

yet, enough time for tying up loose ends.



"Our client's results weren't what we were expecting."



Parenti huffed. "Dana Scully was never a client who had 

choices. I did what was required. It is out of my control 

what goes on with her body. If you had wanted her to carry 

a child you should have thought of that before you had 

Ishimaru tamper with her reproductive system."



"We were assured the procedure was reversible."



"The procedure's reversibility isn't the issue here; basic 

female reproductive anatomy is. Sometimes it takes several 

tries before a woman conceives."



"Unless someone has altered the merchandise." Spender 

pulled a cigarette out and lit it. 



He watched the colour leech from James' face. 



"That would be a foolish move." The smoke curled in the 

air, carried by the slight movement of the air conditioner. 

"Wouldn't you agree, Parenti?"



His answer was choked off. Parenti's eyes were wide open in 

shock as he fell forward onto his desk.



From his position by the back door to the office Alex 

Krycek tucked his gun away and met Spender's eyes. "If you 

want to keep your hands clean you need to leave now, old 

man."



"Didn't your mother teach you to respect your elders, 

Alex?"



"She taught me many things. Are we going to discuss it now, 

or would you like me to finish the job?"



"By all means, finish up." Spender dropped his partially 

smoked cigarette onto the plush carpet, leaving a small 

brown scorch mark, crushing it underfoot as he made his way 

to the door. 



"I'll be in touch, Alex. See that things are tidied up, 

will you."



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



The lights were dim and the atmosphere charged as the small 

group of men gathered. 



"Have you located her?" Jurgen Strughold poured a whiskey 

for himself.



"Not yet." Spender lit a cigarette.



"What are you doing about it?" The question came from the 

back corner and Spender's back stiffened. The Englishman 

was always a wild card.



"I have it under control."



"Do you?" He moved from the corner to stand next to 

Strughold. "And you Conrad, what do you make these reports 

that place Alex Krycek with the child and an unnamed 

woman?"



"Those reports are unsubstantiated." Spender paused to pour 

a drink, focused on remaining calm. "How do you know we can 

trust the source?"



The Englishman narrowed his eyes and Spender tamped down 

his fear. "The source was one of my own. I trust him."



"You trust him? Perhaps the rest of us are hesitant to 

extend that trust so easily."



"Our own man found evidence that someone had been with him. 

For God's sake, Charles, he came back with evidence of 

Alex's activities."



Strughold cleared his throat. "It does us no good to argue 

amongst ourselves." 



"An accusation has been made," -- Spender pointed to the 

Englishman -- "about another member of this group. So far 

this source has remained unnamed. We cannot afford to keep 

secrets, gentlemen."



The Englishman's laugh was curt. "You're one to talk, 

Charles."



"Enough." A heavily accented voice spoke from the shadows. 

The bearer, a heavyset man with greying hair came forward. 

"We are arguing semantics.  Alex Krycek was acting by 

himself, outside of this group; that much is clear. It is 

obvious he had an accomplice. I suggest we focus our 

attention on who that might have been."



"Find the accomplice, find the merchandise?"



"She is a child, Charles." The Englishman's tone was sharp.



"She is an experiment, my friend." Spender doused one 

cigarette and promptly lit another. 



Strughold set his glass down. "Enough. We will contact our 

partners in Tunisia and Kokura. Ask them to keep an eye 

out. Do we have any ideas as to who was helping Alex?"



All eyes turned to Spender, but Spender focused his on 

Strughold. "I suggest we consider Marita as a possibility."

 

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



Chapter 40



Mulder got as far as the front desk before being waylaid by 

the security guard. "A.D. Skinner's looking for you."



"What?"



"Said to send you up if you came my way."



"Thanks, Pete. I think." Shit, he couldn't even get out of 

the fucking building and put some space between him and 

Scully. He decided to take the stairs rather than the 

elevator. At least some of his frustration could be taken 

out that way. He arrived at Kim's desk feeling as if it had 

helped only marginally. What he really needed was a good, 

long run.



"He's waiting for you, Agent Mulder."



"Thanks, Kim." Mulder took a deep breath and opened the 

door.



"You wanted to see me, sir?"



"And your partner. Where is she?" Skinner looked up from 

the file spread open in front of him. "Everything okay, 

Agent?"



"Scully's not feeling well"



"I saw her an hour ago Mulder; she seemed fine to me. 

What'd you do this time?"



"This isn't about me. Apparently." The last word was 

mumbled.



Skinner closed the folder he was looking at and pushed it 

towards him. "Something's come up, something I think you'll 

be interested in." 



"Is this for me and my _new_ partner?"



"Look, Mulder, I had no control over that and you know it. 

But, no, Diana won't be joining you on this one." 



"Oh?"



"Professor Merkmallen is presumed dead, but no body has 

been found yet. The details are in the file. I've called 

Quantico to let them know Scully will be delayed a few 

days. Take a look at the file, and get back to me later 

today, Scully as well, say," -- he looked at his watch -- 

"two o'clock? Have Kim pencil you in."

 

"Whatever."



"Is there a problem, Agent?"



"No, no problem."



"Mulder?" Skinner raised his eyebrows in a move that 

reminded him far too much of his partner.  



"I'm fine. It's a little rough right now."



"I think this case might be something that can help." 

Skinner lifted his eyes to the corner and dropped them to 

the file Mulder held. The message was clear. 



"I'll take a careful look, Sir."



"See that you do, Agent."



*********



Mulder sat behind his desk, examining the photograph he 

held in his hand as if it were fine porcelain. His index 

finger gently followed the outline of the little girl, 

seated in someone's lap. It was difficult to tell if the 

person who held the girl was male or female, but he was 

hedging his bets on the latter. The picture had been hidden 

amongst the crime scene photos and was taken recently.



Hannah appeared much as she had the one time he'd met her 

in his office. She was smiling and her hands were clasped 

around a white teddy bear. The resemblance to Sam brought 

tears to his eyes. 



As he followed a braid with his finger he could almost feel 

how soft it would be. Was he supposed to take this to mean 

she was okay? 



He toyed with confronting Skinner, demanding that he reveal 

how and where he got the picture. The idea was dismissed 

quickly. Skinner probably knew little or nothing regarding 

its origins and to make issue of it might endanger one or 

both of them. 



Having the lab run a trace on it was also out. Too much to 

explain. The boys were a possibility, but they were still 

pissed off. They seemed to have taken sides with Scully on 

the Diana debacle. Sometimes he felt like a six year old 

who wanted to stamp his feet and declare that they were his 

friends before they were Scully's.



He heard the sound of her approaching and hastily shoved 

the picture under his desk blotter. He wasn't ready to 

share it with her just yet.



"I wondered where you went." She set her bag down and 

turned to face him.



He looked at her. All buttoned up, her black suit smartly 

tailored, the skirt neither too short nor too long. She 

probably pulled out a fucking tape measure to make sure she 

didn't break the FBI dress code. He chose to ignore the 

circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin. "Would I 

have made a bad father, Scully?"



"What?"



"You heard me. Answer the question." 



"I think you'd have made a wonderful father, Mulder." 



Her answer was so quiet he had to strain to hear. "Then 

what happened?"



"I guess I discovered I'm not ready for that much change in 

my life. Any of it."



"Define _any_ for me, would you please?"



"I don't have the energy to fight with you right now." She 

sat down.



"I'm just asking, trying to understand what went wrong." He 

swiveled his chair around and out from behind his desk, the 

sound of the wheels muffled by the carpet as he moved 

closer to her. "I know you Scully, and rash isn't part of 

your make up. You don't do anything without giving it a lot 

of thought and you sure as hell didn't wake up one day and 

decide out of the blue to ask me to father your child. You 

would have thought it through from all angles first. What 

doesn't fit is what you're saying now. How can you have 

gone from there," -- he spread his hands out -- "to here," 

-- he snapped his fingers Đ "just like that? It doesn't 

make sense to me."



"Did you and Diana discuss children?"



"Wha --" He sat up, startled. "Where did that come from?"



"Did you?"



"No."



"Why?"



"We never had that kind of a relationship. No -- wait." He 

held up his hand to stop her from speaking. "What I mean 

is, I knew our relationship was never going to go in that 

direction. It wasn't long term."



"And Kristen?"



"Kristen? _Kristen_? She was a mistake, Scully. I already 

told you. If I could go back and erase that time, I would. 

I don't understand where you're going with this."



"It's -- why did you have sex with me?"



"I didn't have sex with you."



"Oh, I imagined that? Or were you able to --"



"Scully, I made love to you. It wasn't simply sex. Not for 

me, anyway. The real question here, is what was it for 

you?" He watched her grapple with what he handed her. 



"I -- this is so hard for me." 



Mulder reached over and pulled Scully's chair so that she 

faced him. Their knees touched and as he searched her eyes 

he was startled to see tears. He reached forward and cupped 

her chin. "I love you. Why won't you believe me?" 



"I can't."



"Can't or won't?"



She didn't answer. He could see her fighting to regain 

control and he allowed himself to drink in the fatigue, the 

sorrow that lined her face and shadowed her eyes. In that 

moment he knew what she needed from him, what she would 

accept. She was a woman who kept her heart under lock and 

key and allowing him in was wreaking havoc in her tightly 

controlled world.



She didn't answer. He could see her fighting to regain 

control and he allowed himself to truly see her fatigue, to 

see the sorrow that lined her face and shadowed her eyes. 

In that moment he knew what she needed from him, what she 

would accept. She was a woman who kept her heart under lock 

and key and allowing him in was wreaking havoc in her 

tightly controlled world. 



He realized that her pragmatism regarding the failure of 

the invitro had more to do with further protecting her 

fragile hold on her heart than a belief that it was for the 

best. She wasn't ready to trust him with either her 

feelings or her heart. He could offer her time. Time to get 

used to the fact that he loved her as she was; that her 

infertility did not define her. That she was whole and 

perfect. 



"Why are you staring at me like that?" She sniffled into 

the handkerchief he handed her.



"It's nothing. You look tired."



She took a deep breath. "I am."



"How's the pain?" He tucked a strand of errant hair behind 

her ear, but stubbornly, it slipped back out. 



"I took some T-3's. I feel better."



"Let me take you home."



"Mulder, I don't think --"



"I want to drive you home, make sure you get there okay. 

Maybe tuck you in, make you soup? Let me take care of you. 

Please, Scully?"



"What about the case?"



"I'll call Skinner, reschedule. If you're up to it we can 

go over what he's given us tonight." He sat back 

considering the folder and the photo he'd hidden. If he 

expected her to trust him with the most vulnerable parts of 

herself he had to offer her the same honesty and trust. 

"There was something tucked in between the crime scene 

photos."



He watched her eyebrow go up, a silent entreaty for him to 

continue. "It's a picture of Hannah. It looks recent, 

and,"-- he slid his arm down hers to hold her hand -- "she 

seems happy. Safe."



"I'm sorry you didn't find her. I know how much her 

connection to your sister meant to you."



"Not your fault, Scully. I'm okay. Someday we'll have the 

answers. Until then," -- he picked up her other hand and 

held them both close to his heart -- "I'm not going 

anywhere without you. No matter who Skinner is forced to 

assign to the X-Files."



"Okay." She grabbed her bag as they both stood up.



"Good. Now let's get you out of here. I've got a brand new 

director's cut of Planet of the Apes --"



"What, no Plan Nine?"



"Hey, you cut me off before I could get to it." He shoved 

his chair back under the desk and grabbed his jacket and 

the file.



"I think you'd have made a wonderful father, Mulder." 



The words were so quietly spoken he almost missed hearing 

them. "Thank you."



"I just wanted a chance, you know?"



"Oh Scully, I do know." He pulled her close and felt her 

arms grip him tightly. Stroking her back, he felt some of 

the tension release and stepped away to meet her eyes. He 

kissed her forehead softly. "I believe we'll get another 

chance, Scully."



"I don't know if I have any hope left, Mulder."



"Then I'll hope and believe enough for both of us." 



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





Notes:



I owe so much to those who supported me throughout this 

process. From Both Supreme High Bitch of the Beta's - I 

think you both deserve the title after putting up with me - 

to my faithful readers who sent feedback on a regular basis 

- you don't know how much that encouraged me! So.......



To those who provided beta:

Xdks, Tali, Jake, and Michelle Kiefer - *insert bowing 

smiley here* - I could not have done it without all of you. 

This story would not have been written without their 

unwavering support, including the virtual finger wagging 

when I got sloppy. These ladies put up with my dangling 

participles, Canadian vs. American spelling, and my 

flagrant abuse of commas. I see the words 'tsk tsk' now and 

run cowering. 



Siggy - martini's for life! She put up with me sending 

snippets, paragraphs, chapters, and everything in between. 

The poor thing was subjected to the worst angst while I 

worked out plot inconsistencies and played with 'what ifs.' 

I fear I've driven her to drink.



Toate - where are you girl? You deserve a big kiss for 

faithfully reading through and helping me sort things out. 

Many thanks my friend for your support, it means a lot. 



















 























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