Title: S.N.A.F.U. Part 3 Chapters 11-13
Author: Emily Sim
Headers: see part 1

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Chapter 11

The phone call she'd been about to make momentarily forgotten, 
she set the note aside and took a deep breath, fighting the urge 
to have a quick glance through all the items. Krycek had probably 
arranged them in order, and that could be important. She needed 
to be patient and review what she'd been given the way it had 
been ordered, methodically, just like any of their cases. She set 
aside two smaller envelopes and went through the papers first. 

The first few were photocopies of a case file, but not one she 
recognized. She spent a few moments becoming familiar with the 
principle players, noting that the dates coincided with her 
missing time and that one name, Kristen Kilar, figured 
prominently throughout. There were copies of notes on LAPD 
letterhead from Detectives Nettles and Munson and various reports 
from experts pertaining to the victims. She noted that a forensic 
dentist had been called in, a Dr. Jacobs, and she wondered if it 
was the same man who had spoken at Quantico for one of her 
courses. 

Turning a page brought her to Mulder's familiar scrawl, five 
pages worth. His notes, detailed and precise, laid out a story 
that she found both unbelievable and perfectly feasible at the 
same time. When she reached the end, skimming what she could for 
the sake of time, she realized something was missing. Reading 
back over the last page and a half, she realized the detail she'd 
come to expect from her partner was absent. It was almost as if -
- her heart sank as she pulled the first picture out from a 
separate envelope.

It was a clear shot of Mulder and a woman she assumed was 
Kristen, locked in a passionate embrace. The next two pictures 
moved the opening shot a little more towards an intimacy she knew 
formed part of the missing details. She was pretty sure what she 
would see in the rest of the pictures, and decided to set them 
aside for the time being. She couldn't afford to let herself 
become more emotional than she already was. Besides, pictures had 
been doctored or even manufactured before. She wouldn't put it 
past their enemies to try something like this.

The rest of the papers were medical reports. In place of the 
patient's name was a series of numbers, and the reports 
themselves seemed routine, just blood pressure, heart rate and 
temperature readings. They varied a little, but nothing that 
would indicate an illness, in fact, this patient seemed perfectly 
healthy. She was about to dismiss them as superfluous until she 
came to the last two pages and discovered the reason for the 
readings. Whoever this woman was, she had been pregnant. 

She went back through the pages, determined to have a more 
careful look at them. There were eight reports, arranged in order 
by month. If it were possible for her heart to further shatter, 
it did. The reports began in December and ran through to August. 
The last paper she held gave the essential birth details of the 
baby girl born that month. She felt tears threaten as she 
remembered Emily and an empty coffin. She took a deep breath and 
steeled herself. Even if this was about more children like Emily 
-- especially if it was about Emily -- she needed to be level 
headed. She didn't want to begin to think about the dark haired 
Kristen and Mulder and what it all might mean. 

She picked up the second of the two envelopes that were 
included and opened it. She pulled out a PCR she assumed belonged 
to the mother, based on the same series of numbers written in the 
corner. The numbers used to identify the woman were familiar to 
her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and cleared her 
mind. The numbers meant something. 

It didn't take her long to figure it out, and she felt foolish 
for missing such an obvious clue the first time through. She 
picked the up the phone to call her partner. 


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 Chapter 11B



The first thing that struck Mulder, as Kristen led him into her 
home, was the understated elegance. It was in direct contrast to 
her home in California. Where that house had been sparsely 
furnished, and had seemed almost clinical, this was full of rich, 
warm earth tones. Underneath colorful Indian rugs the floors were 
wide plank wood, maple he guessed, noting the clear, almost 
spotless grain. A staircase curved its way to the second floor 
and a hallway that stretched in both directions. 

As she ushered him into a sitting area he took in the artwork 
gracing the walls. Most seemed to be originals, or first run 
prints, he noted, as he got closer. A baby grand piano filled one 
corner and the tables were dotted with pictures of Hannah in 
varying stages of babyhood and as a toddler. He chose an 
overstuffed armchair and waited until she had settled herself 
opposite him in the loveseat.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine." He cringed a little, hearing himself echo 
Scully's infamous line; he hated the words, and true to her 
meaning, he was far from fine.

Kristen twisted her hands nervously. "I guess you might have a 
few questions."

"Uh, yeah, a few." Or more, he finished silently. The place was 
giving him the creeps. The initial feeling of warmth and coziness 
was fading. The house seemed devoid of anything related to a 
child. Aside from the pictures he could see no evidence that a 
child lived here. He didn't expect the sitting room to be 
littered with toys, but there was bareness to the place.

"You sure you don't want anything? Tea, coffee?"

"I'm sure. Where's Hannah?"

"In bed. I thought it might be easier."
 
"Oh."

"I'm sorry to have sprung this on you. I thought about calling so 
many times, but --" She shrugged her shoulders. "I just never 
knew how to tell you."

"So, what -- you thought just showing up with her at my office 
was the way to go?"

"I guess it wasn't the best way to handle it. It didn't seem like 
such a stupid idea at the time. I'm sorry to have sprung this on 
you."

"How did it happen?" 

"_How_?"

"I saw the fire, saw the reports from the fire-chief. Four 
bodies. One of them yours."

"I tasted his blood, the blood of a believer, the Father."

"And what, you were burnt up but you came back, pregnant?"

"The fire didn't kill us, it couldn't."

"And who did you kill? Wasn't that part of the ritual?"

"Myself."

He closed his eyes, assaulted by images of a burning house and 
naked flesh. He remembered sitting on the hillside afterwards, 
the sharp tang of smoke in the air, the haze on the horizon, 
Scully's cross a heavy weight against his throat.

"What do you want from me, Kristen?"

He watched her hesitate, struggle to answer.

"I guess I want our daughter to have a home."

"A home? You mean with you and me? That kind of home?" 

"She needs a home." 

Her words were like nails on a chalkboard, scraping his 
tenuous hold on the conversation. His focus narrowed and he 
watched Kristen lean over to retrieve something from the drawer 
in the coffee table. Her hair was almost the same length, maybe a 
little shorter, and she was still thin. When she turned her head 
slightly, exposing her neck, he had a flash of remembrance. 
Trailing kisses down to that little spot -- his hands tightened 
into fists. The small mole was gone. 

Mulder trusted his instincts, and right now he was getting the 
distinct impression that something was off. Kristen seemed stiff, 
uncomfortable with herself and her surroundings. The timing of 
Skinner's encounter with Spender and Kristen's appearance in the 
X-Files' office was too much of a coincidence and he was alert to 
any nuance, any clue that would help throw light on the 
situation. 

She sat up, unaware of his growing unease, setting a photo album 
on the table. "I kept a record, just in case."

Mulder stood, ignoring the proffered book. Movement always helped 
clear his head. As he passed by the large archway that led into 
the hallway he caught sight of himself in an oval mirror. It was 
beautiful, the frame an ornate silver, probably an antique like 
many of the other pieces in the home. As he turned back towards 
the sitting area he mentally kicked himself for missing it. The 
mirror shouldn't be there, not if Kristen believed herself one of 
the immortals. There had been no mirrors in her Californian home. 

From inside his coat pocket came a faint ringing. "Excuse me. My 
cell." He pulled it out and made his way into the hallway. 

"Mulder."

"Scully?"

"Mulder, where are you?"

"Uh, this isn't a good time."

"Mulder, I need to see you."

"I'll call you back." He disconnected and turned his phone off. 
 
******************

Chapter 12

Scully's shock was quickly replaced by anger and then growing 
concern. Her repeated attempts to call Mulder's cell were met 
with an annoying recording that switched to voice mail. She had 
no better luck with his landline. After four rings his answering 
machine kicked in and she was resigned to leaving a message.  
Although this was not the first time he had been too busy to take 
a call, he didn't normally turn his phone off. This, in addition 
to the drop off from Krycek, had her on high alert. She paced 
anxiously, wondering if she could call Skinner without it 
becoming an all points bulletin, and then dismissed that idea in 
favor of calling on the Gunmen. Things had been less strained 
with them since the afternoon she had gone to them with her 
request to look further into Diana's business. It had been 
awkward; she knew their loyalty lay with Mulder and he had seen 
her request as intrusive. But what they had uncovered had 
convinced them, if not Mulder, that Diana wasn't completely 
clean. Hearing Diana's romantic connection to Mulder had 
unsettled her last May. In light of the IVF she and Mulder were 
attempting now, this report left her wondering if she really knew 
her partner as well as she thought she did.  She stuffed the 
pictures and documents back in the envelope, and grabbed her bag 
and gun. This was too important to let a little awkwardness get 
in the way. 

It was Langly who opened the door, a nervous smile on his face. 
"Agent Scully."

"Langly." 

"What can I do for you?"

"You could start by letting me in."

He blushed and stepped aside. "Sorry, come on in."

"If it isn't the delectable Agent Scully." Frohike 
materialized from one of the back rooms. "To what do we owe this 
pleasure?" The words and tone were all Frohike, but Scully 
noticed his hands clenching. He was nervous about something.

"When was the last time any of you saw Mulder?" 

Bingo. She'd hit something as all three began glancing at each 
other, the floor, anywhere but at her.  It was Byers who finally 
stepped forward.

"Why don't you tell us what's going on first."

She tossed her purse onto the table and pushed an envelope into 
his hands. "I had a visitor, the one armed variety. He left this 
for me." 

Langly and Frohike moved close to Byers and soon all three were 
huddled around the table, the reports and pictures pulled out. In 
deference to Scully they had only glanced at the first two 
pictures before setting them aside, face down. She had nothing to 
do but wait for them to read through everything, so she took a 
seat, the events of the last few hours, the last few months, 
rolling through her mind. 

Clearly there were parts of Mulder's life she was in the dark 
about. It wasn't that unusual, there were things in her own life 
she hadn't shared with him, but whereas Jack and Daniel were long 
gone, Mulder's past seemed to always be reasserting itself in his 
life. Seeing him through the window, tenderly holding Diana's 
hand ten months ago had broken something in her.  She could 
probably blame hormones for some of the jealousy she was feeling 
now. They had one more attempt left with her ova, and the process 
to get her body ready to receive the embryo implants had begun. 
Mulder still hadn't shared much about Diana, and she wondered if 
he still thought of her romantically. She considered that he 
might be having second thoughts about his contribution in her 
attempt to get pregnant. Mulder was too gracious to back out of 
something once he had committed, but a child wasn't quite the 
same as a promise to pick up the pizza and bring the beer. She 
didn't know how they could have that conversation when they 
hadn't managed to have any other regarding the invitro. They were 
masters at avoiding anything that could lead to a discussion 
about their relationship. 

In some ways, her attempt to conceive was the most impulsive 
thing she had ever done. After spending time investigating the 
possibility with Dr. Parenti, she had approached Mulder. For her 
there was no question about who she wanted to father her child. 
What the two of them hadn't gotten around to was the discussion 
regarding the rest of the details involved. Each time he tried to 
bring it up, she deflected it. It was her way of shielding 
herself from the failure. And two failed attempts had only 
reinforced the wisdom of that logic.  

For the last three months she had endured being poked and 
prodded, Dr. Parenti taking additional time with this last 
attempt. She was doing everything she could to help make this 
effort successful. 

Her near-fatal abdominal injury had interrupted her treatments. 
When Kersh threw her together with Peyton Ritter, delaying the 
last treatment she had been upset. In hindsight, she was 
grateful. Had she kept her appointment that month, and had it 
been successful, she would have lost her child. As it was, 
Parenti was somewhat concerned that the injury was still too 
recent to be continuing the IVF. A pregnancy could put additional 
stress on her recently healed tear, but weighed against the fact 
that her eggs weren't in the best condition for the procedure to 
begin with, she felt she couldn't wait. She was willing to risk 
it.

The risk was one more good reason to avoid the topic with Mulder. 
After El Rico they had both retreated to lick wounds, separately 
of course. Delivering Leroy, Jr. in Florida had intensified her 
desire for a child and she had let Mulder know she was ready to 
make the last attempt. If he had known about Dr. Parenti's 
concerns, he wouldn't have allowed her to go through with it, at 
least not so soon. 

She pulled herself from her thoughts as the three men still 
huddled around the table. One of the printers was spitting out 
sheets of paper and Byers moved over to retrieve them. 

"Agent Scully?" Byers motioned for her to join them. 

"What can you tell me?" She saw Langly and Frohike slink back, 
deferring to Byers.

"He came here earlier, asking for our help with locating these 
people." He held the copies of the file up. "They're a group of 
three individuals who seem to have an appetite for blood. I don't 
know if Mulder ever determined that they really were vampires or 
not. One of the women, the one referred to as the Unholy Spirit, 
is actually Marissa Whitehead. She also goes by Raven or 
sometimes Starr. The two men, John Caseville and Mark Sinclair, 
are known as The Son and The Father.  We've found evidence that 
all three have been together in various cities over the past few 
years. They weren't hard to find once we discovered the first 
location."

"Marissa isn't the one in the pictures, is she?" She tried to 
keep her voice steady.

Frohike dropped his eyes and Langly pulled one of the printed 
sheets close to his face. Byers cleared his throat and the 
compassion in his eyes almost did her in. "No, her name is 
Kristen. She was on the fringes of this group back in 1994."

It was confirmation that she had it right the first time she read 
the report. "Is that who Mulder's with?" 

"He's trying to figure out what she wants."

Scully took a deep, cleansing breath. "The medical reports," -- 
she moved in closer and pointed to the sheaf of papers -- "did 
you connect the dates?"

All three men looked at the line she pointed to their soft gasps 
breaking the silence as the significance of the numbers became 
apparent. 
"Holy shit." Frohike stepped back, slapping his head. "How did we 
miss that the first time?"

Scully began gathering the papers and shoving them back into the 
manila envelope. "I think he may be in trouble. Krycek left a 
note, 'all is not as it seems,' or something to that effect. 
There seems to be a connection with Spender or someone in the 
Consortium. You need to get word to Mulder that we have this."

"Skinner is with him."

"Skinner?" Her envelope stuffing was forgotten for a moment. "He 
came here?"

"Scully," -- Frohike put his hand on her arm -- "I'm sure he'll 
look out for Mulder."

"Yeah, and who's looking out for Skinner?" She grabbed her bag 
and, tucking the envelope under her arm, made her way to the 
door. "If he calls tell him --" She fumbled with the locks until 
Frohike leaned around her and deftly undid them. "Tell him -- to 
turn his phone on." And that I'm worried, she finished silently. 

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

Chapter 13

"Agent, when you tell me you'll be in contact with me in fifteen, 
I expect you to answer the call. I was this close," -- Skinner 
indicated a half-inch spread between his thumb and forefinger -- 
"to calling for back up."

Mulder slid behind the wheel and turned to face Skinner. He was 
leaning against the passenger door looking decidedly pissed off. 
"What?" 

"You turned your phone off, Mulder."

"Scully called at an awkward moment and I didn't want to risk her 
calling back. I'm sorry,"

"How the hell was I to know that?"

"What did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to follow the script. I'm surprised Scully's 
stuck with you so long if this is normal procedure for you."

"Scully would usually be with me."

"If you want my help with this you are not to do that again, 
clear? I don't care what your excuse is. Being unable to contact 
you in this situation was dangerous. I repeat, do not do it 
again."

Mulder swallowed the cheeky comeback he had ready and turned back 
to start the car, his 'yes sir' barely audible over the engine 
starting up.  

Skinner fastened his seat belt as Mulder drove. "So, what did you 
find out?"

Mulder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "She was 
missing a mole."

"A mole?"

"Yes." His laugh was humourless. "This is one time I'm 
thankful for an eidetic memory." He recalled other times it was a 
curse, remembering details he'd sooner forget. "She had a mole 
just about here." He indicated a spot below his ear. "It wasn't 
there."

"What are you thinking it means?" 

"I'm thinking -- what I'm thinking is another one of those 
farfetched theories of mine that you and Scully usually have fun 
shooting holes through."

"Mulder, you'd be surprised how far I've come in keeping an open 
mind with regard to your ideas." 

Mulder snickered. "Well, what if Kristen did die? We've got two 
paths we can follow -- no, maybe three. She could be exactly who 
she says she is; some sort of back from the dead vampire who I 
managed to get pregnant, who did not lose the baby while she was 
between human and vampire states. I'm having a hard time with 
that one considering the silver framed mirror in the hallway."

"Silver mirror?"

"Vampire 101, no silver or mirrors, and certainly not 
together."

"You're a wealth of information, Mulder."

"Vampires exist, but maybe not in the way Hollywood presents 
them, Count Dracula and all that.  If you look through that file 
you'll see the reports from Dr. Browning and the guards who found 
him, regular people who saw John's burnt body.  I'm still not 
convinced that there isn't a psychological reason for his 
reaction to light, but the reality is, the man was alive and well 
a day later. I saw him."

"I think you'd better give me your second idea."

"Well, there's an outside chance 'Kirsten' could be a plastic 
surgeon's creation, a relative of Kilar's who thought she'd try 
and get something out of me. That doesn't seem likely, but it's a 
possibility."

"What could she possibly get out of you?"

Mulder cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He hated 
talking about the Mulder assets. It was embarrassing; the money 
was dirty, blood money, and he hated even acknowledging it. "I 
have a little money."

"So what, she fashioned herself after a dead woman to grab a few 
dollars?"

"I said that it wasn't likely. I'm more inclined to think we're 
dealing with my third idea."

"Which is?"

Mulder, stopped for the red light, leaned his head back against 
the headrest and closed his eyes. "A created being, a clone or 
something similar, something we haven't seen yet. It would make 
more sense than the other two and it would explain the missing 
mole. It may have been a detail they overlooked." The car was 
moving forward again, the two men silent as both took in the 
enormity of Mulder's last suggestion.

Skinner broke the silence with a loud sigh. "What do they hope to 
gain?  I think we need to come at this from that angle. Spender 
has something to do with this that we're not seeing. Where does 
the child fit?"

Where indeed did a little girl with hazel eyes and curly brown 
hair fit into his life? To say he'd never thought about being a 
father wouldn't be the truth. He'd thought about it often in the 
last three months. But it was non-descript, blurry, fuzzy around 
the edges and not quite real. Actually having flesh and blood 
presented in the form of a little girl was frightening. He opened 
his eyes to find Skinner twisted in his seat, staring.

"Got an idea for me here, Mulder?"

"That's the one piece that keeps throwing me. I don't know what 
they intend with her. I don't even know if she is or isn't what 
she seems.  I've arranged to spend some time with her tomorrow. 
I'm hoping I can get a hair or something we can run DNA on.  
Maybe that will help me determine what she is."

"_What_ she is?"

"Emily, sir, she might be another Emily."

"Shit."

Mulder parked the car in an open space not far from the front of 
his building. "How do I keep this from Scully?" He stepped out of 
the car, then leaned against it as Skinner made his way around. 
"I'd like you to keep it quiet, not to say anything to her until 
I've had a chance to figure out what to do. This really 
complicates things between Scully and me."

Skinner nodded slowly. "I'll give you a chance, but Mulder, she 
deserves to know the truth."

"I just want to know a little more about what I'm up against 
here." Mulder pocketed his keys. "I'm not sure which would be 
worse for her, another Emily or a new baby announcement for a 
three and half year old."

Skinner pulled his car keys out. "I'm going to check up on a few 
things. Maybe I can find out a little more about what Spender's 
been up too."

"I'll give the boys a call, maybe head over after I grab a few 
things. Call me if you get anything."

Skinner made his way down the street to his car.

"Oh, and sir?" Mulder waited for his boss to turn around. "I'll 
be taking a couple of days, just until I sort some things 
through."

Skinner nodded and continued on while Mulder, shoulders 
drooping, made his way to his apartment. 

He had a busy night ahead of him. 

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