Title: S.N.A.F.U. Part 4 Chapters 14-15b
Author: Emily Sim
Headers: see part 1

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

Chapter 14

Scully sank wearily onto her couch, thankful she had chosen a 
piece of furniture that was comfortable as well as functional. 

Throughout the drive home, sheer willpower kept her eyes dry and 
focused on the road, in spite of the frustration, anger, and hurt 
that had been threatening to spill over.  Her throat seemed to be 
sporting a permanent lump. Now, quietly, she gave in to her 
emotions. She rationalized that it was useless to continue 
fighting against the chemically induced surge of hormones 
swimming in her system.  

So many things were crowding her mind, vying for first 
consideration. She had never felt so out of control, so alone. It 
was essential that she contact Mulder, but his phone was still 
turned off. She needed to know what Krycek was doing mixed up in 
all of this, but his number wasn't exactly listed with 
information. It was important to figure out who Diana, and now 
Kristen, were to Mulder, and hell though it was, she needed to 
know what she herself meant to her partner. How many other 
Diana's and Kristen's were waiting in the wings to make an 
appearance? The whole IVF process had complicated things more 
than ever. She and Mulder had shared the most intimate of all 
things when they exchanged body fluids, albeit done clinically in 
the most detached manner possible. She didn't know how she could 
sit down and discuss parenting or baby names with him when he was 
more than just sperm in a cup to her, but she had no idea what 
she meant to him. She used her sleeve to dry her tears, mentally 
telling herself she was done, had wallowed long enough. She had 
work to do and a partner to locate. She put the kettle on and 
pulled an herbal tea out of the jar. First, she needed to settle 
her churning stomach. 

******

Smoke wafted towards the ceiling, pulled by the fans installed 
for just this purpose. The room was dark; the lights dimmed in an 
effort to create anonymity, though all the men gathered together 
knew each other intimately. They were focused on Spender who 
stood in the center of the room, his words slowly rolling over 
the group like the puff of exhaled smoke accompanying them.

"It is of no consequence." 

A large man standing on the fringes spoke up. "What of the 
child?"

Spender turned to address him. "Strughold, you worry far too 
much. They are all expendable."

"And you are a fool to think we do not know what you are doing. 
Tell us, Spender, where is Krycek tonight?"

Spender took a long, slow drag of his cigarette. "I haven't heard 
from Alex. Perhaps you have?"

Strughold turned to fully face Spender. "I'd be careful, if I 
were you, who you send on your errands. Everyone has a price."

"You speak in riddles and your threats are empty. I'm well aware 
of the fluidity of Alex's allegiances. It is better to keep one's 
enemies close." Spender lit another cigarette.

"Scully has the file and the PCR's." 

The other men appeared to shrink back, away from the quarrel, 
though none of them moved.

If Strughold had been looking for a reaction from Spender, there 
was none to be had.  

"This can be used to our advantage, can it not?" Spender asked. 
"You're short sighted when it comes to these two. We have several 
ways we can play it. You are forgetting the element of control 
this situation gives us."

"And you are overly sentimental. You protect these two at what 
cost to the project? For whose benefit? We have given you far too 
much leeway. I say it's time to remove the threat."

"Sentiment has nothing to do with it." Spender's response was 
quietly spoken. "You would awaken a giant with such a foolish 
ploy."

"The doctor is ours, is he not?" The refined English accent was 
like a cooling balm.

Spender turned towards the voice; surprised the Englishman 
would wade into the fray. Strughold had been playing his own game 
for the past year and the rest of the men kept their allegiances 
close to their chests.  He was startled to find a crumb of 
support from this man. Spender suspected he, along with 
Strughold, were behind the El Rico set up that would have seen 
him burnt along with some of the other members. 

"Indeed, he is ours. You propose using him for what purpose?"

"You said it yourself; we've several ways to play this. We need 
to choose the one that will bring about our aims while preventing 
further interference."

From the corner, a tall man spoke, his face hidden in the shadows 
thrown by the dim lights. "There is only one course of action 
that will accomplish this. Do we have consensus?"

There were murmurings through the room as consent was 
given.

Strughold leaned back in his chair, softly chuckling, a sound 
that was grim.  "The doctor, then. 
Make sure he knows that failure is not an option." He turned 
steely eyes on Spender. "Do it yourself."

Spender made his way to the door, turning to face the group 
before he left. "But of course." 

The door closed behind him with a soft swoosh. 

**********



Chapter 15A


There was an envelope waiting for Mulder when he got back to his 
apartment. Wearily, he picked it up by the edges, mindful of 
fingerprints, from its resting place against the door and stepped 
inside. There was nothing marked on the envelope, but he grabbed 
a latex glove just in case. He looked guiltily at the flashing 
light of his answering machine, knowing the calls were from 
Scully. He had his phone turned off still, not willing to risk a 
call from her.  He sank onto his couch and carefully pulled the 
flap open and withdrew a set of pictures. His heart fell when he 
recognized Kristen and himself in the photos. Shit. He shuffled 
through the stack, sixteen in all, relieved to discover none 
showed anything more intimate than passionate kissing. It was a 
little unnerving to realize that no part of his life, no 
indiscretion was far from someone's watchful eye. He threw the 
latex glove on the table. There was no way he was taking these in 
to have Danny dust them and he doubted there would be prints 
found anyway.  These guys were too careful. 

He shoved the pictures back into the envelope. He had work to do 
but needed a moment to organize his thoughts, to try and figure 
out what he would or could tell his partner. If he didn't call 
her soon, he risked her coming over and he didn't think he could 
face her just yet. He was not ready to tell her about Kristen and 
even less ready to broach the subject of Hannah. He wasn't sure 
which scenario was worse Ð having a real live flesh and blood 
child through a foolish indiscretion, or that Hannah was the next 
generation of Emily. The thought sickened him as he recalled 
Emily's last few days. Who were these men who played God with 
little girls and barren women? 

He had supported Scully in her bid to adopt Emily despite his 
reservations regarding the affair, and he hadn't shrunk back and 
run when she approached him about being the other half of the IVF 
procedure. It still made him feel a little strange to think of 
himself as a sperm donor. His investment went beyond ejaculating 
into a cup. He wanted her to be happy, to be able to regain some 
of what she had lost, and if a baby would help do that, he would 
do whatever he could to make sure it happened. What he hadn't 
counted on were the mood swings and the crushing disappointment 
when the first two procedures failed. He had reservations that it 
was still too close to her recent surgery, but relied on Scully 
to know what was best. She wouldn't be foolish enough to risk her 
last attempt to conceive by trying when it wasn't safe for her. 

Scully, ever the consummate professional, was good at keeping her 
emotions in check most of the time. She never got pissy when she 
was on her period, and she didn't use PMS as an excuse to be 
bitchy. In fact, she rarely complained at all, and he knew there 
were times, judging by the paleness that make up couldn't mask 
and the winces she tried to hide, that she wasn't feeling well. 
It wasn't like they sat down and discussed it Ð "And how are the 
cramps today, Scully?" "Just fine Mulder, now that I've taken 600 
mgs of Advil."  "Oh, and how is the whole reproductive system 
holding up these days, Scully? After the nameless doctors removed 
all your ova, that is?" He snorted with derision. Working closely 
with Scully for five years had given him intimate knowledge of 
her body whether he wanted it or not. He knew enough about her 
system's workings to know that her periods were no longer as 
regular as they once were. Thanks to the nameless 'Them,' they 
were now an irregular and painful souvenir of a violation she 
couldn't remember. The fact that she still got a period once in a 
while was good news, at least according to her doctor. In order 
to sign up to be the male contributor, Mulder had had to sit 
through an interview. Dr. Parenti had no qualms sharing details 
about how her body was working and how he was going to attempt to 
make her pregnant. They managed to discuss all the technical 
details without too much difficulty; but it was the personal 
issues that seemed to stop him cold each and every time.  

He made his way over to the desk and began to dial while he 
turned his computer on. 

"Pinky's Laundromat, we specialize in shirt service for wayward 
FBI agents."

"Oh, that's smooth, Frohike. Turn the tape off."

"Where the hell have you been, Mulder? And why the hell is your 
cell turned off?"

"It's a long story. I need to know what you found out."

"First you'll need to do a little sharing of your own."

"Frohike, I don't have time for all this."

"Make time, buddy. We had your better half over here tonight and 
it wasn't a social call. She had a file, and a set of pictures, 
Mulder."

"Fuck."

"Well, fuck would be the operative word, would it not? She 
didn't' show us all the pictures, but we got the idea."  

"Do you have me on speaker?" He didn't need to wait to hear the 
embarrassed coughs from the other two men to have it confirmed. 
"It isn't what you think. I need you guys on this."

"I think you need to tell us what's going on, Mulder." Byers, 
always calm, steady, and reasonable.

Frohike, on the other hand, was never reasonable when it 
concerned Scully. "You hurt her Mulder and I'll kick your ass." 

Hell, he should take care of it himself and save them the 
trouble.

Mulder took a deep breath before he began and with as few details 
as possible and no elaboration on the night he spent with 
Kristen, shared the story, including his concerns regarding 
Kristen's physiology and the small, willowy girl with hazel eyes 
and a winning smile. It surprised him that Hannah's existence 
didn't shock them. For a moment he lived in blessed ignorance, 
which came crashing down when he realized that their lack of 
shock could only mean that they already knew because Scully had 
told them. He felt sick with the realization.

"Mulder, hey buddy." All three voices formed a chorus that pulled 
his attention back. 

"Sorry, boys. I just need to know what you've got for me, and 
then I need to go." 

"Well, that's the interesting thing about all this. You see, we 
located your trio, they weren't that hard to find once we got a 
line on one of them. But your partner, boy Ð she's something 
else, Mulder. You don't' deserve her, you know that I hope?"

"Frohike, I know it, you know it. Are we going somewhere here?"

"Well, it's just that your partner managed to put two and two 
together and came up with three."

"Langly, knock some sense into him, will you."

"No way, man. He's got those funny gloves on again. Just tell the 
man, Frohike. You're driving me crazy."

A small clicking noise intruded. "What was that Ð guys?"

"I don't like the sounds of that. I'm off Ð up close and personal 
Ð and then we'll talk, and Mulder, leave your cell on, just in 
case." 

The click was followed by silence and another, fainter click. 
Mulder wearily disconnected. Resigned to another long night, he 
grabbed his keys and ignored his landline as it began to ring. He 
was pretty sure who it would be, and in light of what the Gunmen 
had revealed he had even less desire to talk with her right now. 
He closed the door and locked it just as Scully's voice came on 
the machine.


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

Chapter 15B

Scully replaced the receiver with a little more force than necessary. Mulder was 
avoiding her, she knew that, and it was 
making her crazy that he could be out there running around with 
only the facts he was being allowed to see. She picked the phone 
up again and dialed another familiar number.

"Joe's pizza."

"It's me, Langly."

"The phone seems to have extra ears tonight, let me call you 
back."

She checked that her cell phone was on and waited. It wasn't 
long. "Langly."

"Frohike, Scully. We have less than a minute."

"Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure our friend got in touch."

"He's on his way."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"We were kind of hoping to convince you to come over and help us 
on that one."

"He's avoiding me right now. I'm a little concerned about how he 
might react."

"You sure you can't make it this way?"

"I'm tired. Can you let him know I need him to call me?"

"Will do. Get some rest. Bye, sweetness."

"Frohike Ð"

Her good-bye didn't make it in time; she heard the soft click 
disconnecting the call. She hoped they could convince Mulder to 
call her, but she knew how her partner got when his guilt was in 
full operational mode. The characteristics that made him good at 
his job -- tenacity, perseverance, compassion, and empathy -- 
were like a doubled edged sword when coupled with guilt and 
focused inward. She knew his introspection would be to the 
exclusion of all else until he had it all squared away. Then he 
would come, hat in hand, to do his penance. She was sick of it. 
It wasn't that she wasn't hurt, or needed to know the answers to 
the questions that were crowding her mind, it was just too much 
to fit in right now with all the other concerns. She had one more 
visit scheduled for the clinic this week in preparation for 
Friday's appointment to have the last of her eggs implanted. It 
was something she had done alone the last two times. She had been 
hoping Mulder might want to go with her this time, but hadn't a 
chance to ask him yet. In light of recent developments she 
wondered if she should. 


Another frustrating phone call to add to an already exasperating 
day. She headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. The 
bottle of white wine she had picked up on her way home sat next 
to the sparkling cider. The cider was meant for celebration, but 
had spent the last few months cooling. She thought about 
indulging, it was what she had promised herself after a long day 
in the autopsy bay, but with Mulder's current whereabouts 
unknown, she might need her wits abut her.  She shut the door and 
decided to brew some tea to go with a hot bath. 

*******