TITLE: "EDEN IN THE CITY" AUTHOR: Char Chaffin CATEGORY: Mulder/Scully Romance, MS/Skinner Friendship, Angst RATING: R, for language and sexual situations ARCHIVE: Sure, Just Ask! SPOILERS: Spoilers? We don't need no stinkin' spoilers… DISCLAIMER: I want them, but I can't have them… FEEDBACK: GOD, yes! I'd beg, but it's so undignified (please please please) WITH THANKS TO: The following amazing authors: Hillary (Foxsong), Shoshana and Hester (Stormlantern), who offered advice, ideas, encouragement and help with plot development, kept me sane and focused during the writing of this… you guys are the best! AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic is the direct result of an overwhelming amount of feedback from readers who threatened to hurt me unless I continued the story of Mulder and Scully from "The Other Side of Eden"… and I would like to thank everyone for their wonderful response to that story and because of their desire to know more, I will take "Eden" into a little series, with "Eden in the City" being the first installment. Again, thanks to all who wrote and voiced their approval and enjoyment… as you can see, "the squeaky wheel gets the oil"!!! This installment is meant to be a continuation, and will definitely make more sense to the reader if they have read "The Other Side of Eden" first - SUMMARY: As Mulder and Scully attempt to make a life for themselves and their new child, that pesky serum just won't let them be… "EDEN IN THE CITY" ** Prologue** When it happened the first time… Thank God she wasn't holding the baby. She'd just filled a kettle with hot water, flexing sore shoulder muscles, cursing herself for not taking advantage of the sauna which she still was not used to having, so much that she usually forgot it was right there, always available… maybe a cup of hot herbal tea would help. That, and a sixteen-day soak in hot jasmine-scented water, she thought with an inward grin. No time for a long soak anyhow… she knew with a mom's intuition the certainty of Will's less-than-two hour nap routine - and she'd need longer than that just to peel the clothes from her whipped body. So, tea had to be the answer. She'd put the kettle on the stovetop, reached out a hand to snap on the burner - And found it digging with frenzied need, along her sweatpant-covered legs, scratching so hard, had to dig hard to ease the bites, all those tiny bites, little bites all over her body from laying upon palm fronds, itchy rough scratchy palm fronds, full of nasty little biting bugs, biting bugs which left behind welts, she couldn't reach all the bites, what were these strange things covering her they were choking her she tore at them, couldn't figure out how to remove them they were strangling her she couldn't breathe she was gasping for every breath down on her knees in the hot hot moss under the palm fronds in the jungle "…MULDERRRRRR…" She was screaming. He rushed into the kitchen just in time to see her kick the last of the clothes away from her now-nude body, hands digging and tearing at her thighs and along the small of her back as far as she could reach; a low keening sound of distress and panic coming from her throat, curled up on the floor in a semi-fetal position… Mulder skidded to a stop and gawked in stunned surprise at the sight of his wife, there on the floor; bent down to touch her, not understanding what was happening to her, speechless with shock… only to have her hiss with virulence at him and scramble away from his reaching hands, eyes glazed with faraway purpose, until his shaky but loving voice, repeating her name over and over again, somehow got through to her and she stopped trying to scoot away and stopped scratching at herself and just lay still, uncurling her body slowly as she looked up with suddenly cognizant eyes at him, then with bewilderment at herself and her nudity, finally whispering in a papery, low voice: "Mulder… what happened? Why am I on the floor naked?" ** Chapter One ** Scully sat on the sofa and sipped at the lukewarm tea, still shuddering, still a little unsure of what had happened, there on the kitchen floor. Beside her on the leather sofa, Mulder held her free hand and stroked it softy, looking into her downcast face with tender worry and concern; not speaking, letting her think about what had happened and try to put it together in her head before he started the questions. He'd lifted her gently from the floor, wrapping her in his flannel shirt which he'd stripped off, still smelling of the fresh grass which he'd been mowing; she'd let him pick her up and carry her into the living room and deposit her onto the sofa, then reluctantly let go of him long enough for him to return to the kitchen for the rest of her discarded clothes. She'd allowed him to dress her in the sweats, just like a little doll, then he'd plunked a mug of tea in her hands and pulled her partially onto his lap… and now just held her other small hand in his warm, large palm… waiting. She sighed, a heavy deep one, and placed the half-empty mug on the glass table next to the sofa, then curled herself into a folded shape in his embrace, trying to stay warm. He held her gently; spoke softly into her mussed hair. "So… what happened, Scully? Do you remember - can you tell me?" He stroked the silky hair off her forehead; rubbed her skin there, easing the worry lines. She sighed again and leaned her cheek against his neck, eyes closed, focused inward. "Oh, Mulder… I'm honestly not sure. One minute I was reaching for the burner switch, a full kettle of water in my hands, and the next… I'm on the floor stark naked just scratching away… it was so weird! It was like I was on the island again… I could smell the salt in the air, the underlying nasty fishy smell, too - I could feel gritty sand under me, feel bug bites all over me… then I was so hot, like something was smothering me… But Mulder… that wasn't the most frightening part. "The most frightening part was… for that measure of time… I didn't know who I was…" softly, in a scared little whisper… "I didn't know what I was…" Mulder sat quietly, gazing into the soft embers of the now-dying fire; in one arm he cuddled his now-sleeping wife; in the other, his drowsy son. The glow from the coals warm on his face; still he was chilled, deep inside; worry had caused the cold to seep into his bones… worry and a concern rapidly escalating into panic. Will yawned beside him, dark head snuggled firmly against his chest, little sweet face drooping with the need for sleep but trying so hard not to give in to that need… typical tough-little-boy syndrome, Mulder thought tenderly, as he smoothed away the wispy baby hair from the child's half-closed eyes. On his other side, soft and warm and precious… his Scully; exhausted and very deeply asleep, wound into his arm and against his side and twined so thoroughly around his heart and embedded within his soul… beating through his veins with a life force more valuable than his blood. He needed her more than food, more than water, breathed and spoke her; slept her and dreamed her. It had begun seven years ago, so long ago in that dark windowless basement when she first knocked upon his door and walked into his office and straight into his heart. Over the years it had built and built, harder and deeper and stronger until one day it had almost burst out of his chest on one long frightening stride down a dim hallway, fighting to reach out to her before she closed the door on them, forever… that moment found, then lost in the most agonizing way possible until it had been picked up and carried forward again, in the most incongruous, most inopportune and danger-ridden place, nearly two years later. Found, and consummated, and celebrated with innocent abandonment… then lost yet again, but this time only momentarily; long enough to find the right path to follow, the cognizant path… the best path. And now, having found that path, Mulder was damned if he'd let it go; would fight anyone or anything to keep it from going… Even if it meant fighting their own minds. ** Chapter Two ** "Say that again, Mulder…" "She had a hallucination, Sir - right on the kitchen floor, in the middle of the day… I was outside working in the yard, and I heard her scream my name - came running into the house to see her tearing at her clothes, moaning and crying… she didn't remember how she got on the floor… didn't remember pulling off her clothes, scratching and digging at her skin. Later on, she told me she could feel the bugs, from the island - could see and smell it… felt like she did when we were stranded there, before we got ourselves back…" Mulder sank back wearily in his chair, head in his hands. Across the expanse of his desk, AD Skinner stared at Mulder in mounting horror, remembering himself what he'd seen, there on the beach when he'd found them, after being lost to him for months… the naked, dirty and painfully thin bodies, covered with insect bites… Scully, enormously pregnant, deep in the palm fronds propped against a tree, screaming and cursing as her frail body heaved with the effort of giving life… giving life to one helluva large kid. By the time they'd reached her, the baby's head was crowning and the pain of it was causing her to black out. They'd had to slap her face, pull at her toes and shake her to keep her aware enough, conscious enough to deliver the child, as Skinner's copter had brought nothing in the way of a medical kit. The other copter had packed the first-aid stuff. It had taken all her waning strength to get young Will's head out; after that the rest was fairly easy. But the process took an enormous toll on Scully's health… she'd spent several weeks in the hospital, once they'd reached the States; forbidden by her doctors to come back to work, she'd actually been relieved, because she'd wanted someone else to take on the responsibility of telling her she could miss work - ordering her to miss work - to be home for the baby; be home for herself. She was just starting to get back to her old self… and now this. Skinner shook his head in bewilderment; he didn't know when his two favorite agents were ever going to get a break. He turned to Mulder and gripped his shoulder reassuringly; spoke with brusque affection. "Look, Mulder… even though this has only happened once, to Dana… both of us know it could, and probably will, happen again - and most likely, in some way, to you as well. We haven't been able to break down the components of the base of the serum, and if there were hallucinogenic compounds in the stuff… both of you are in danger of suffering uncontrollable episodes at any given moment… under God knows what circumstances. "I think you'd better get yourselves over to Wallace's office and see what can be done for you… before this happens in a situation less private than your kitchen floor…" ** Chapter Three ** "Dr. Wallace will see you now, Mrs. Mulder… Mrs. Mulder? Um, Mrs. - " The receptionist was confused; the petite redhead sitting in the overstuffed armchair either hadn't heard her or refused to acknowledge her; she hadn't moved. The receptionist cleared her throat delicately and tried again. "Dana Mulder… the doctor will see you now…" With a start, Scully looked up from the magazine she'd been flipping through, realizing with no little embarrassment that the woman was addressing her. She stood, a little sheepishly, and followed the frowning receptionist, murmuring, "Sorry… I'm still not used to being addressed as "Mrs. Mulder…" shrugging helplessly. The receptionist half-turned and smiled over her shoulder at the flustered Scully, then ushered her into a large, comfortable office. Scully perched on the edge of a chair and waited, thinking for the thousandth time how much she hated to talk to therapists. But, if those hallucinations ever happened at work, or even worse, when she was holding Will… Scully shuddered anew at the possible dangers. She had to find out what had caused the black-out; this regressive episode. Before it got any worse - before she hurt somebody, or herself. And when she found out what was going on… Scully smiled to herself grimly. Then she was going to force Mulder to get himself checked out as well… just in case. Dr. Marianne Wallace had known Scully for about two years; had counseled her as a doctor, in the past; more recently, as a friend. She'd been one of the first to speak to both Scully and Mulder, after they'd returned from their little island ordeal; had given them some very sound advice on how to get past the more frightening aspects of their lost months and instead focus on the good things. They'd had sessions with her separately, and together; it had really helped them. Scully wouldn't have felt comfortable going to anyone else - as much as she dreaded therapy, she knew it was necessary. Now, as she perched on the end of the chair, watching Marianne open the inner office door and walk through, a smile on her face at the sight of Scully sitting there looking vaguely uncomfortable… Scully hoped the episode on her kitchen floor two days past was simply an isolated incident. She childishly crossed her toes, shod in her favorite low black pumps. Marianne laughed out loud at the look on her patient's face, and pointed one long slender finger at Scully's bunched-up pump. "You're crossing your toes again, aren't you?" she chuckled as she took the easy chair across from Scully, whose cheeks were slightly pink. A small defiant chin thrust up in the air as Scully retorted, "Maybe I am… and maybe I've just got an ingrown toenail…" Marianne snorted. "Ingrown toenail, my eye… what're you worried about this time, Dana? I promise you I won't laugh, no matter what you tell me." Scully's answering grin faded a little as she tried to piece an appropriate reply; Marianne simply reached out and squeezed one of the fluttering, nervous hands, and softly commanded, "Just spit it out, Dana… whatever it is, we can deal with it. Why else would you have come here in the middle of the day, when I know you're always the busiest?" Dana closed her eyes against the sudden, sharp sting of tears, and nodded her head, just a little. She took a deep breath and blurted it out with no finesse and no preliminary explanation. "Marianne… I've had a hallucinogenic flashback of some kind, a flashback which took me to the island… to the months before Mulder and I knew we were human… and it's scaring the shit out of me…" Two hours; Scully had managed to tell Marianne most of what had happened to her and Mulder during the long months isolated on the island. Although Marianne had heard a little of it, and had marveled at the agents' ability to survive in such an environment… the more complete story left her breathless with shock, and full of admiration for their undeniable strength of will. Once Scully had started talking, hesitantly at first, then with more assurance as the tale unfolded… Marianne could hardly believe her ears. To have your mind stripped, utterly, after being intimidated, interrogated, beaten, physically and mentally tortured… to be left to die out in the middle of nowhere with no clothes, or food… and then, to survive it… to find strength and renewed purpose through it… to find love, despite of all the pitfalls against it. Actually, Marianne was beyond admiration for the agents, and she told Scully as much, watching the reddened flush steal over her cheeks and the way she tried to shrug it off, claiming anyone in that position would have done what was necessary to live. Marianne was shaking her head vigorously even before Scully stopped talking. She reached out a hand and touched the younger woman's shoulder. "Dana… I know of very few people… no, let me be realistic here - I know of no one, no one at all, who could survive even a little of what you went through. I felt that way after hearing only the vague outline of your ordeal - but now that I know the rest of it… I can only say it's a wonder these hallucinations haven't manifested themselves much sooner! You have endured a most traumatic experience; you and Fox both. And, both of you are just beginning to heal on the inside; where the scars do not show. I still think Fox went back to work too soon… and I think you would have been wise to take advantage of your mother's babysitting talents a bit longer, and taken more time for yourself. "We still don't know exactly what was in that serum you were both injected with… it has components we can't identify and we have nothing to compare it with, in our own labs - and all of the logs and diaries, burned like that! Nothing to go on, save the memories of what you went through, and what we witnessed ourselves, on the interrogation tapes. We don't know about aftershocks of any kind - well, now I guess we do… it obviously does happen. But we still don't know if some chemical compound in the serum is responsible… or just a mental imbalance of some kind, caused by the serum, possibly temporary - or perhaps permanent." She gave Dana Scully's shoulder another reassuring squeeze. Dana expelled a shaky breath and failed miserably at producing a creditable smile, but Marianne accepted it anyway, and smiled warmly back at her. She sat back and regarded Scully thoughtfully for a moment, then scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "I can prescribe a mild relaxant, something to calm you down if you feel any sort of panic coming on which would be related to a possible hallucinogenic episode…although it sounds as if it would come so quickly upon you that you'd not be able to get a pill into your system fast enough… and with a baby you can't afford to be regulated on anything, either." She tapped the pen against her teeth, thinking about other options; options she knew Dana would flat refuse… but it was worth a try. She decided to toss it out there and see what would happen. "Dana… what about hypnosis of some kind…" she trailed off at the sight of Scully shaking her head vigorously. "Absolutely not, Marianne… not after the last experience; no way! That session just about sent me over the edge; I won't go through it again! Besides, I don't see how it could help." Scully rose and paced around her chair, restlessly. There had to be something else, something they weren't considering; something they were missing. She thought back to a few short months ago; six months, to be exact… After she and Mulder had returned to DC, and her mother was firmly ensconced in the apartment, taking care of Will and having a blast playing grandmom, they'd spent a week at Bethesda, going through a battery of physical and mental testing, to see how much damage the combination of serum and internal trauma had caused to their systems. Both had been in serious deficit for just about every major vitamin requirement; iron deprived, calcium, potassium… the list went on and on. Malnourished, emaciated, bone-thin… exhausted and dehydrated. They'd been on mega-protein boosters for months; were still taking them. Their weight was still on the low side, although the high-protein diet and exercise sessions were finally showing a difference. But the hardest part of the week had been the sessions with the psychoanalyst, who had hypnotized them, in an effort to glean any information which would help figure out the possible long-term effects of the serum. The sessions had been awful; not only were they not able to recall anything viable, the actual hypnosis was physically damaging to them both. In their weakened state, their hearts beat too fast, their blood pressure rose alarmingly, and Scully had collapsed during one of her sessions; Mulder helpless and panic-stricken, on the sofa next to her, unable to rouse her enough for the doctors to safely bring her out of it. They'd rushed her into Intensive Care and put her on a respirator. And when she finally regained consciousness, she'd reached out a thin hand and wrapped her fingers around the necktie of the first doctor who'd bent over her face, and informed him in a gravelly-rough voice that if he ever did that to her again, she'd remove his kidneys with a spoon… Mulder, caught between horror at what had just happened to the woman he loved, and helpless laughter at her typically-Scully threat… had sunk to the floor, shoulders heaving with mingled chuckles and tears of relief. Neither agent underwent any further sessions. They'd been released and went back to Scully's apartment; her mother had stayed on several more weeks… long enough to see her daughter and Mulder get married in a small, quiet ceremony outside of Georgetown. They'd immediately begun looking for a place outside the main hub of the city, and had found a small house about twenty miles from the apartment; in a quiet neighborhood with decent-sized lots. After they moved in, each day got a little easier… as they regained their strength and their health. At Skinner's and Mulder's combined urging (and nagging, Scully mentally added), she'd taken an extended leave of absence from work, and took advantage of that time to get to know her son. Mulder went back to work a little sooner than he should have, but his body had snapped back a lot quicker than Scully's, and he also had a temporary partner who was helping him in so many ways it was impossible to keep track… Jason Halliday, the young agent who'd been so determined to find them; had been of monumental assistance to Skinner in those dark months while they were missing. Mulder hated like hell to have someone else step into Scully's shoes, even for a day… but Halliday was proving to be a God-send, for he was so much like Scully it was scary. Open-minded, yet practical; scientific yet spiritual… Halliday was a good match for Mulder, and he was on hold anyhow, waiting for his new partner to be transferred from South Dakota. The temporary partnership worked very well for both of then, and they'd become fast friends. Scully really liked Jason; he was intelligent and dedicated, and he made a huge fuss over Will every chance he could get. Things were looking up… until two days ago, when she'd found herself on her kitchen floor, naked and scratching like there was no tomorrow… ** Chapter Four ** "Well…?" "Well, what, Mulder?" "What did Marianne say? What did she suggest?" More than slight impatience; she grinned to herself and continued to walk sedately beside him, fingers twined lightly in his. He swung her hand between them, trying to hang on to his patience. She hummed under her breath, teasing him a little, pretending to be in deep thought, before she finally answered. "Marianne says I should go under hypnosis again… me, and probably you as well. She thinks it's the best way to discover what may be causing these flashbacks." Scully stopped and turned to Mulder, moving close enough to rest her forehead against his shoulder. He ran a gentle hand through her soft hair and waited for the rest. She sighed, still a little shaky from the session, and rubbed her face against his arm. "Mulder… I don't want to be hypnotized again… what if I don't come back this time? There's got to be another way to find out what happened to us… how much damage the serum caused! Something less dangerous, more accurate…" She pushed herself into his chest and he held her, arms suddenly fierce around her; protectively… lovingly. "Scully… no more hypnosis, for either of us… I promise. I don't ever want to go through what I did when you were lying lifeless on that sofa… I thought I had lost you, for real this time. We'll find something that works… we'll beat this." They spoke of other things that evening; forgetting with deliberate purpose the shadows in their corners; wanting nothing more than to spend precious time with Will. He was crawling everywhere now, his sturdy little body wriggling with quick intent over the floors and carpets, laughing with babyish glee as Mulder growled behind him and pretended to chase him; allowing himself to be caught and then tossed up into the air. From her snuggled position in the overstuffed armchair, Scully watched their antics with a sleepy smile; it had been a very long day for her. Although she was getting stronger each day, she still tired quickly and fell asleep at the drop of a hat. Eyes in mid-droop, she forced them open again long enough to see Will give a huge yawn; Mulder carried him over his shoulder, fireman-style, to where she lay on the sofa, and lowered him down enough for her to give him a goodnight cuddle and kiss. She waved to him as he was carried off upstairs, giggling, still partially upside-down; the giggles turned to baby shrieks; obviously Mulder was engaging in a tickle-fest before bedtime. Sudden quiet, then a door softly closing, as Mulder came back downstairs and joined her on the sofa, pulling her relaxed body into his arms and folding himself around her. She pressed back into him mischievously, noting with a chuckle, "What's that you have in your front pocket, Mulder? A sword? Are you planning on buttering my bread for me…?" Mulder smothered a half laugh, half groan, into her silky hair, and butted her gently, front to back, murmuring, "Oh, yeah, Scully… my butter on your bread… my sword stuck in your jam jar… my fork testing your bacon for doneness… my…" "Jeez, Mulder… are you horny, or just hungry for food?" She was trying to keep a straight face as she partially turned to eye him indignantly. He rolled her underneath him and pinned her down into the sofa cushions with both legs tangling around hers. He ran a firm hand up her body, beneath her loose clothes, fingers dancing softly over her tiny waist and delicate ribcage, around and over each breast; she gasped into his neck and bit him there. His hand was so warm as it settled on a breast and rubbed the skin gently. So gently… so caringly. He was unbelievably tender with her, always; moving with careful ease against her when they made love, pouring words of intense passion into her waiting ear, the passion he controlled in small doses, feeding them to her body when it was drawn taut as a bow; careful, so careful. Sometimes it was what she wanted… sometimes it wasn't. He never failed to make her body climax, in great gusts of feeling which drained her to the core and left her shaky and weak - but she needed his roughness sometimes; needed him to take instead of give; needed the pleasure which bordered more on pain; the piercing good that they'd first discovered, there on that tiny bug-infested island, months and months ago. She decided to provoke him, there above her, gazing down into her face as he caressed her and held himself in tight control, wanting to make it perfect for her. Not perfect; not yet, Mulder, she thought impishly - but it would be, very soon. She slowly wiggled out of her loose t-shirt and drew it over her head, tossing it on the floor; lifted herself up and rubbed her bare breasts against him; then she buried her mouth in his neck and bit him again, whispering hoarsely, "Take off your clothes, Mulder… now." She tugged on his sweatshirt; he jerked it off his body in one hard pull and lowered himself onto her again, pressing down hard against her. She purred, deep in her throat, and wriggled her lower body under him, demanding, "The rest of it, Mulder… I want skin and I want it now…" With a groan at her words, whispered into the bite on his neck, he tore off the sweatpants and boxers in one abrupt tug, and then flicked the rest of her clothes off before his body covered hers again. She wound a leg over his slim hips and pushed into him; he pushed back, suddenly and fiercely… and slipped into her easily. And with the feel of her surrounding him, pulling him in deep; her little body cushioning him as he sunk even further within… Mulder found himself digging into her in long, hard strokes; moaning into her hair as he drove her, and himself; her warmth so tight around him that it should have caused pain to both of them. She coiled her legs about him and took one of his hands, pushing it between their bodies, forcing his fingers to press on her center, crying out when he found her spot and began tugging on it with two fingers, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. She could hear the gasp of her own voice as it left her throat and lodged in his open mouth, begging him to go faster, deeper… he echoed the words back to her, down into her lungs, as he obeyed her requests; he was slamming into her now, helpless to stop, to ease up on the driving thrusts; she wouldn't let him gentle his movements, not a bit. She pushed up against him just as hard. He could feel it coming up, fast; he gasped out her name in an endless chant which caused his fingers to tighten around her softness until she stiffened and screamed her release into his shoulder; echoed in the shouts which left him in a rush of fluids and breath and waning strength. He fell onto her in a limp heap; she cradled him in equally limp arms, drained and sore and utterly at peace. And as she dozed off into an exhausted sleep, it vaguely registered, in a corner of her almost-unconscious mind… they'd barely kissed during the most passionate moments of their union - almost like being on the island, once again… the island. How strange, she thought dreamily… how strange. They never did make it off the sofa that night. ** Chapter Five ** It was almost a week before another hallucination occurred. Uneventful days; she'd had lunch with a few of her friends and had done a lot of yard work; spent some lazy afternoons with Will, at the park nearby; then toward the end of the week had gone to see Skinner and attempted to wangle out of him a definite promise of a return to work date for her. Skinner was sweet but firm with her; he'd received his report from Dr. Wallace and based on that report, he wasn't about to let Scully come back to work… not yet. He told her, as gently as he could; her reaction was predictable and pure Scully… she tried to rationalize him into agreeing, stating she was better equipped to handle the case forensic investigations than Halliday, and besides, his new partner was due any day. Skinner, exasperated, finally roared at her, "Agent Scully! Sit down and listen to me - I'm only saying this once. "You are not ready to come back to work, and we both know it. You aren't physically strong enough yet; Agent Mulder tells me you still tire easily and your appetite is still sketchy… What was that, Agent?…" for she had muttered under her breath, "The traitor… he's toast!" She jerked her head up and looked him straight in the eye, and retorted, "I was merely referring to Agent Mulder as a 'traitor', Sir…" Skinner sighed, moved around his desk to sit next to her, and reached out a large hand to cover her cold one. "Dana… if I didn't care for you, both as a damn fine agent, and a good friend… I'd let you back in the building in a heartbeat. But I can't do that… not yet. It's only been barely seven months, and that's not nearly enough time for you to return to normal. I know you've made enormous progress, you and Mulder both… but he didn't give birth to a strapping baby in the middle of a sweltering jungle under hideous physical circumstances… and he's been able to snap back a lot faster. I'm still not happy about him coming to work so soon, but he's on office restriction for another month - and he's chomping at the bit, believe me!" Scully smiled at the mental picture Skinner's words conjured up; she knew full well how much Mulder hated to be tied down to an office when there were cases to investigate. Both of them thrived on field work; they always had. She turned to her boss and squeezed the hand still holding hers. "OK, I'll stay home a while longer… but you have to let me work on this latest case, from home. I can still do a lot of research from the computer, and I can still be some kind of help to Mulder and Halliday… please, Sir? Take pity on a stir-crazy agent?" She batted her eyelashes at him outrageously; he barked out a short laugh and gave her a quick, hard hug. "All right, Agent - I can see if I don't agree you'll nag me to death. I'll send some files home with you - but, no field work! And stay out of the basement - you got me?" Scully just about blinded him with a smile as she rose and headed toward the door. "Thanks, Sir…" On the drive home from the office, she stopped for a red light… and reached up to re-adjust her rear-view mirror which she'd accidentally knocked askew with her head when she'd first gotten inside… and behind her, a chorus of blaring horns aimed at a daredevil motorcyclist weaving in and out of the cars all lined up, waiting for their turn to move… she eased off the brake, preparing to accelerate… And she suddenly found herself holding her head, fingers pressing hard over her ears, trying to shut out the sound of the chattering in the trees, the endless squawking of the parrots and the monkeys, all day long in the trees, loud and grating on her ears, she'd never been able to get used to it, they were getting louder and louder and she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, above the chatter of monkeys everywhere she could hear her own whimpering and she clutched anew at her head and her aching belly it was so empty she needed food but there was no food close by and thirsty so thirsty and now she was curling into a little ball on the sand hoping her belly would stop hurting and her mouth would not be so dry and she was smothering in the heat too much heat… The roaring in her head slowly replaced by several urgent voices in her ears; voices repeating over and over, "You all right Lady? Do you need an ambulance…" She slowly became aware that she was surrounded by air bags, one from the driver's side and one from the steering wheel; and that her car was tilted sideways against a concrete embankment in the median between the four-lane road; warm trickling on her forehead which turned out to be blood… and she didn't know how she'd gotten there, couldn't understand why her airbags had inflated… confused and bewildered, she pushed weakly at the airbag in front of her face, and the police officer who'd stopped and called for backup and was trying to deflate her them, heard her as she voiced her thoughts aloud, and replied, "You were weaving all over the road, Ma'am… holding your head with both hands. I don't know who in hell was driving your car but it was a miracle you didn't crash harder than you did. Is there someone we can call for you?" Scully cleared her throat painfully, and managed to squeeze out, "Call my partner, Fox Mulder… FBI." The cop wrote it down and inquired, "What's your name, Ma'am?" She thought very hard and finally remembered, whispered, "Scully… Agent Dana Scully…" The cop also wrote that down and noticing her wedding band, asked her, "Where can we reach your husband, Ma'am? We need to call him and have him meet us at the hospital… " He trailed off at the look of complete blankness on her scratched face. "Husband? I don't have a husband… what makes you think I have a husband…" ** Chapter Six ** It was damn impossible to get a slow elevator moving when your life was passing in front of your petrified eyes and you couldn't even remember how to operate the blasted buttons, Mulder thought, fighting unsuccessfully against the panic rising steadily inside him as he punched at the door buttons with a stabbing finger, then cursing colorfully under his breath, he wrenched open the stairwell door next to the elevator and took the stairs two at a time, clearing six floors in no time flat. He tore down the hospital corridor at a dead run, narrowly missing a run-in with an elderly man wearing a baggy robe and pushing a roll-away IV unit; the man jumped about out of his slippers as Mulder zoomed by him and shook a gnarled, bony fist at him, muttering under his breath; Mulder flung a distracted, "Sorry!" over his shoulder and kept on running, rounding a corner and screeching to a halt at the doors of ICU; a hand reached out to grab at him when he would have burst through the doors. Mulder whirled on the hand, prepared to break it if necessary to get loose; unfortunately this hand was attached to AD Skinner, who held on tightly and growled, "Agent Mulder! Take it easy! She's OK; she's been transferred to a room on the eighth floor… I tried to get hold of you but you weren't answering your cell phone." In a more reassuring tone, he added, "She really is fine; just a cut on her forehead which only needed three stitches and a little shaken up. Let's go up to the room and I'll explain on the way…" pulling at Mulder's arm and urging him toward the elevators. Mulder shuddered once, hard - then allowed himself to be led to the elevator, still not trusting his voice to come out with any intelligible speech, until they were moving up to the next floor. He finally cleared his throat; rubbed an unsteady hand across his face and faced his boss. "What happened, Sir? I couldn't get a straight answer out of anybody…" "Well, from what I understand, Agent Scully had another hallucination, of sorts, while she was driving home this afternoon. Luckily, she wasn't moving very fast, had just come out of a red light, and traffic was slow when it happened. The police who showed up told me she was spotted clutching her head between her hands, and the car was weaving all over the road. It hit on the driver's front side first, then spun and smashed into the median embankment. Both her airbags went off and absorbed most of the impact. By the time the cops had reached the car, she had snapped out of it and seemed to be fine…" Skinner trailed off, his brow knit with worry, and Mulder picked up on the uncertain tone of voice and demanded, "There's more, isn't there? What? What is it…" He was beginning to panic again; Skinner grasped his arm again and squeezed hard. "Agent, calm down! The last thing Scully needs is to see you panic. She's going to be just fine… physically. "But mentally… we don't know for sure, because when she snapped out of it, she asked the cops to notify you and have you come to the hospital - but she only referred to you as her partner, and when the cops asked her how to get hold of her husband… she didn't remember being married…" ** Chapter Seven ** Propped up in the uncomfortable hospital bed, trying unsuccessfully to keep the back of her stupid gown from gapping open, Scully finally gave up and wrapped as much of the blanket around her as possible. She was still chilled, even through the room was plenty warm enough. The residual effects of the accident had settled over her, and she was just beginning to appreciate what a close call she'd actually had. The policeman who'd helped her had told her she'd simply taken both hands off the steering wheel and grabbed at her head, letting the car operate on its own. Scully shuddered anew at the mental image that little bit of information conjured up - and found herself wondering, yet again, why on earth she would do such a thing when she was driving. It just didn't make any sense. She rubbed wearily at her forehead; Mulder hadn't shown up yet and she was beginning to worry. When she'd asked for someone to call him, she should have also told them to relay her overall state of health to him as well, for she knew how he would react - and how recklessly he drove when he was in panic mode. Thinking of the cop on the scene also jogged her still-muzzy memory and she remembered him asking her about her husband… Scully shook her head in confusion. At the time, she couldn't understand where on earth he'd gotten such an idea… until he tapped his pen on her left hand, and she'd looked down… and stared dumbly at the lovely diamond solitaire and matching band, there on her slender finger, the fit perfect, the stones flawless. What the -! Where had that come from, she wondered, confused as hell. She'd sat in her wrecked car, staring at the ring, fighting to remember… and then it hit her; of course! Another stupid case, she'd bet; similar to that damn mess they'd had to investigate, in Arcadia… the one she privately referred to as "Agents in Marriage-land"… and she'd sworn up and down she would never let Skinner or Mulder talk her into another undercover like that! Well, they must have wormed their way around her at a weak moment… speaking of worms… A movement at the door caught her eye, and Mulder was there, peeking around the doorway… eyes anxiously worried, just as she'd known they would be… At the sight of her, awake and sitting up, looking like a little girl in that baggy gown, with a blue hospital blanket wadded up in her lap… Mulder's heart stopped its frantic pounding for maybe one whole second, before it slammed back against his ribs, and it was all he could do to keep his feet. He forced himself to school his expression into a warm, reassuring smile… to not let her see how frightened he'd been. God, anything could have happened to her, out on the busy streets in the throes of one of these hallucinations… She was looking at him with an expression of concern… for him, as usual; not thinking or worrying overmuch about herself but caring about his reaction… typically Scully-ish, and so endearing he had to fight to keep the tears at bay. He somehow made it over to the side of the bed, reached out two unsteady hands for her… then remembered she was not herself and had one hell of a break in her memory… concerning him. He opted instead for grasping the hand she'd held out to him, and gently kissing the soft palm. Her eyes widened a little at the gesture, but she just chalked it up to excessive MulderWorry and gave him a smile; patted the empty bed space next to her. He sank onto the mattress, still hanging onto her hand, and wouldn't let it go. She smiled again, thinking of how his ever-present concern for her never failed to make her feel warm inside. "Mulder… I really am all right… even the stitches don't hurt all that much." She turned her head to the side so he could see the tiny line of them, there on her pale forehead. Mulder reached out his free hand to trace the puckered skin, then his head dipped down and he rested it against their joined hands. One hard shudder wracked through him; she felt the vibrations to her fingertips, and she squeezed reassuringly, tugging on his hand a little, trying to get him to look at her again. She suddenly wondered if there wasn't something more going on here, something the doctors and Skinner hadn't told her. She didn't know what else could make Mulder overreact like this to just a simple fender-bender… as if she'd spoken aloud, Mulder pinned her with a stern gaze, and leaned into her, voice serious and deep. "It wasn't a little 'accident', Scully - and you know it. You let go of the steering wheel and ran into an embankment. If it had been rush hour, or bad weather conditions… God knows what could have happened!" He yanked her into his arms, abruptly, and buried his face into her neck, shaking all over. She was too surprised by his actions to do anything but pat him on the back, awkwardly, and wonder what the hell had brought this emotional display on, for even at his most worried, Mulder always managed to present more of a bracing front than a panicky one, to her. She tried to pry his face out of her neck to get another look at his face, but Mulder wasn't budging. Finally, she sighed and stroked his mussed hair, just holding him and letting him play out his worry and fear on her poor neck, which was beginning to feel the effects of Mulder's five o'clock shadow. More like midnight shadow, she mused, wondering when he'd last shaven. He suddenly gripped her tighter, and his lips pressed into the chafe he'd made on the soft skin between her neck and shoulder, and he opened his mouth and delicately licked her there. Scully jumped in shock at the feel of his tongue, and pushed at him hard, getting a little space between them. She stuck a hand under his chin and pulled his face up so she could look at him… then wished she'd left well enough alone, for Mulder had an expression on him that could only be described as… desire-heated. For her. For his partner, Scully. She was completely confused now and her face must have shown it, for Mulder closed his eyes against the wary probing of hers, and fought hard to bring his roiling emotions under control. He had an awful lot of explaining to do… and he only hoped he'd be able to get through to her. "Scully… there is something else going on around here… and I want you to listen to me with an open mind and accept what I'm going to tell you as the truth…" ** Chapter Eight ** "Walter… I don't understand… why do you want me to bring Will to the hospital? What's going on?" Maggie Scully was holding her squirming grandson on her hip and trying to talk into the receiver while stirring a pot on the stove; Will was laughing and pulling at the phone cord, chubby little fingers getting twisted in the coils. She kissed his face and set him down on the floor; stuck a plastic Tupperware bowl and a wooden spoon in his hands and tried not to wince as he set about banging on the bowl happily. She moved over to the other side of the kitchen so she could hear above the din. "Maggie… Dana had a little accident… no! She's fine, really; just a small cut on her head… what? About three hours ago. I would have called you sooner, but… it's been a little crazy around here…" Now there's an understatement, Skinner thought as he tried to calm Dana's mother down. She was speaking now, less panic in her voice. "I thought she had been at your office all this time, trying to wheedle her way back into the basement and onto Fox's latest case! I was beginning to wonder if you'd perhaps had her locked up for her own good…! Is she really all right, Walter? Or are you just trying to un-scare me? " "She really is fine… but I would like to see you down here right now, if you can… and bring Will. We do have a little situation here, and I think Will may be able to help…" he went on to describe the 'little situation' to her; and her eyes widened in shock and concern; she interrupted him only once, then replied, "Will and I will be there as soon as we can… tell Fox not to worry." Fox was worried… he wasn't getting through to her. At first, when he'd begun gently probing at her, trying to feel out what she remembered, and what she didn't - Scully's responses hadn't been all that surprising. He'd expected her selective memory loss, based on the fact she remembered him, but not the most recent events in their lives. The history they shared in years would more firmly embed him in place; he would have been amazed if she'd not known him. And although he was very disconcerted - and upset - at her inability to recall what they'd become to each other… he understood, and accepted, the fact; knew it was most likely temporary. Well, he'd hoped. She had surprised him, however, with her conclusion about the wedding rings on her hand… she'd flipped her fingers in front of his face and half-grimly, half-laughingly demanded to know how he and Skinner had managed to talk her into another undercover pose as "Mrs. Spooky…" he almost said the words, "We're married, Honey" at that point… almost. Instead, he'd begun to explain about Isarius, and chewed at his bottom lip as he watched for her reaction. And it was that reaction to his words which had him most worried… her inability to consider anything about their last case; the one which had put them in harm's way only a scant month after they'd begun their cover. Mulder had tossed out a few names, to see how Scully would react… the name Halliday meant nothing to her, even though Jason had been working for AD Skinner for several months before their ordeal on the island. When he'd mentioned the Isarius Project, she'd looked at him with blank eyes at first, shaking her head and asking him what it was all about. He'd tried to explain it to her; told her the project centered around an organization being investigated by the FBI; it had been responsible for several assassinations in key cities across the US. In each murder, a state governor had been the victim; his or her political affiliation the same as the President's… whose Cabinet was being killed off, one by one, for no as-yet apparent or obvious reason. And when autopsies had been performed, in each case it had revealed the victim bore traces of an unknown substance which the FBI would later discover held the rudimentary ingredients of a much more dangerous drug, which would become known as "the serum"… in its final stage of completion untested… yet. However, until access to the main lab could be gained, there was no way it could be discovered exactly what this finished serum could to the human body. And by the time Mulder and Scully, in deep cover, had infiltrated the organization and gained access to the lab, and just begun to discover for themselves the utter horror of the serum and all its effects - they'd been found out, discovered… and disposed of in the most heinous fashion. Scully had listened to all this narrative quietly, though it did not jog her memory and Mulder had no way of knowing whether or not she'd accepted what he had told her. But then, Mulder said the name of the scientist responsible for their little trip through Hell… Pell Friedrictoph. As soon as that name left his lips, Scully had reacted… badly. She'd jumped up, off the bed, backed away from Mulder, moaning low in her throat, "No no no no no no noooo…"; Mulder had reached for her, eyes widely, worriedly fastened on her milk-pale face; she yanked herself out of his hands and stumbled into the bathroom, slamming and then locking the door. He'd pounded on the door, begging her to let him in; she'd told him, in an eerily calm voice, to back off and leave her the fuck alone or she'd shoot him. Mulder had sagged against the door frame, shock immobilizing him, unable to believe she'd used that word against him… then he'd bolted from her hospital room and gone looking for Skinner… Scully waited until she was sure Mulder had left the room; hesitantly emerged from the bathroom and slowly moved to her bed, sinking down upon it wearily. She felt badly about telling Mulder to back off, especially using such an ugly word against him. She'd never done that before… not to Mulder. Running a shaky hand through her hair, Scully forced herself to calm, from the inside, deep down inside where any tiny thought centering around that name, the name that Mulder had spoken softly to her, in hopes of a reaction (well, he got one, didn't he) could be squashed; she didn't understand the way that name had made her feel, but she supposed her reaction could be considered a bit extreme, beyond the obvious distress over memory loss. She was also convinced there was a lot more beyond the events and circumstances she'd lost; relationships which she'd forgotten and which Mulder had left unsaid. The way he was acting around her now, his overwhelmingly tender concern, a hundred times stronger than she'd ever seen him show, for her… that was just one instance of a change which she did not recall. He'd kissed her neck… no, amend that, Dana, she whispered to herself… he licked my neck, as if he'd been doing it all his life… as if that gesture was familiar to him; a habit of some kind. She wondered about that new aspect of his personality most of all. And she was beginning to get one colossal headache. Maybe a shower would help. Grabbing a clean, albeit indecent hospital gown from the supply cabinet, Scully headed for the bathroom. ** Chapter Nine ** Maggie Scully swung around the corner, past the nurses' station; Will dozing in his little stroller. Dressed in a navy blue romper with a striped shirt and a little red sweater, he looked amazingly angelic, considering what havoc he'd wrought just an hour ago, when she was trying to get him bathed and ready. Pausing at the station to ask directions to Scully's room, Maggie smiled at the sight of three grown women reduced to tittering fools over Will. With his bright blue eyes half closed and his lashes like feathery fans dusting his little cheeks, Will was indeed a most beautiful child. He gusted out a huge yawn, and all four women hovering around him sighed and clucked over the few tiny, pearly baby teeth revealed, and his tiny fisted hands stretching above his head as he spied his grandmother and demanded quite loudly to be picked up. Maggie unsnapped him from his seat belt and swung him up into her arms, looking around for Mulder or Skinner. She finally located both of them, and hurried toward them; Will squealed in delight at the sight of his father, and again held out both chubby arms. Mulder gladly took him from his mother-in-law, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek and squeezing her shoulders briefly. Will gave him a smacking kiss on his nose and spotting Skinner standing next to his father, immediately reached out for his glasses, earning him a laughing, "No, no, Willy-Boy!" from Skinner and a tickling in his ribs. Maggie slid a bracing arm around Mulder's waist and regarded him with worried eyes. "Fox… has she remembered anything at all… even something tiny and insignificant, about your true relationship? What about Will?" Mulder sighed and sat down on the nearest chair, Will snuggled in his lap, and Maggie perched next to him, twisting at her hands. Mulder put out a calming hand of his own and stilled her movements. "Not anything about us, Mom… but she did seem to listen to, and accept the events leading up to our little enforced island stay… although when I mentioned that bastard Friedrictoph's name, she came unglued and locked herself in the bathroom. I never got a chance to tell her of the time on the island - how we really were together, and why. She wouldn't open the damn door. One of the nurses just checked on her; she's taking a shower." The hairbrush crackled through her hair; she sighed at the comforting feel of it. Standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror, she'd inspected the scratches on her cheeks; they weren't much to speak of and she knew they'd heal fast. What worried her the most was the ability to heal her spotty memory. And the only dependable place to get answers was from her partner… starting with his noticeably more intense familiarity with her. That little lick on her neck… she could still feel it, and her eyes half-closed with the remembered heat of it. His tongue… Mulder's tongue. On her skin. Like it was as normal, as everyday, as the presence of his hand on the small of her back. She blew out a shuddery breath and finished brushing her hair, then slid into the hospital gown, doing her best to tie it up in the back as much as possible. One more glance in the mirror, avoiding her own eyes; she didn't want to admit to anything she might see there. Opening up the door, head bent, rubbing at the still-stiff back of her neck… at first she didn't see them, there in her room. But at the sound of a high, excited baby's squeal, her head jerked up… and her astounded eyes latched onto the sight of Mulder, seated on her bed, holding in his arms… a baby. A baby with dark curly hair; with wide blue eyes and long, thick eyelashes… dimpled cheeks and chubby little hands - hands that were reaching out… to her. She stood frozen to the floor, gaping at the child, her eyes wide and shocked. The baby's coos and squeals were getting louder, more demanding… his eyes shining with unshed tears of want… his blue, blue eyes; eyes the exact shape and color of her own. Her eyes… there, on this child with Mulder's dark hair… with Mulder's mouth… Holy shit… Scully grabbed for something to hang on to; she felt faint, felt herself going limp; hands caught her from behind, and led her over to the nearest chair; she looked up, dizzy; her mother's worried face swam up there in front of her, still holding onto her hands; Scully squeezed them weakly, just to reassure herself that her mother's presence in her hospital room was real; she tried to speak, tried to tell her mother there was a baby in the room, look at that baby, it looks like every baby picture I was lucky enough to see, of Mulder, ones his mother showed me years ago, except for the eyes, Mom, how about those eyes, just like mine, Mom, how's about that, huh - She finally managed to squeeze out five words from her dry, tight throat - "What the hell's going on…" - before she fainted dead away, slumped over in the chair. ** Chapter Ten ** A buzzing in her ears, very annoying; she lifted a tired arm, hand swatting at the damn bee, hate bees; nasty stinging things, damn bee ruined my chance to finally kiss Mulder, kill all the bees, who needs honey anyway they can eat sugar and get cavities like the rest of us… she awoke to the sound of her voice mumbling inanely, about bees. The buzzing slowly became recognizable as the sound of someone's cell phone; through her half-open lids, she saw Skinner flip his phone open; heard him speak softly; words unintelligible and fuzzy to her ears. She made the effort to turn her head; Mulder sat very close to her, holding her hand, stroking the back of it gently. Next to him, her mother; one hand on her arm, the other laid on Mulder's shoulder, resting there as if she'd always been a mother, to him. Very confusing… she coughed and struggled to sit up; Mulder put out two fingers and easily pushed her back down, shaking his head. "Nope, Scully - you just stay put. Want some water?" She nodded; he reached behind him for a paper cup and lifting her slightly, got some water down her parched throat. She tried to gulp it all; he shook his head again, admonishing her, "Just sip it, Scully - or it'll just come right back up again…" He laid her back down and tucked the blanket snugly around her, then traced her pale cheek with a gentle finger. "Feel better?" She nodded, mesmerized by the look on his face; the look of intense love shining there. She glanced at her mother; saw the look of love there as well; a look which made more sense, to her… she cleared her throat and made another attempt at speech. Her voice was a whispery dry croak. "Will one of you, or both of you… please tell me what's going on? Mom, what are you doing in DC this time of year? Mulder, why did you lick my neck? Whose baby was that…" her voice petered out as Mulder and her mother shared a tired smile, and her mother spoke. "Do you want to tell her, Fox… or should I?" Mulder shook his head and grasped her mother's shoulder as she bent over him, squeezing it reassuringly, then murmured, "I'd better tell her, Mom… let me have some time alone with her, okay?" And her mother smiled and pressed a kiss on Mulder's cheek, and quietly left the room, with Skinner… left Scully staring open-mouthed after them, then swinging the same expression on her partner, who was now sitting on her bed, very close to her, with his warm fingers twined through hers… and did she just hear him call her mother… 'Mom'…? She shook her head, weakly - and stared at her partner in growing consternation. "Mulder… you called my mother "Mom"… she kissed you like she's always kissed me… Skinner called me 'Dana' non-stop when he was in here earlier, and he seemed so… caring… to me - weird… and speaking of 'weird'… you licked my neck, Mulder… and I'm still wearing a wedding ring that had to have cost a small fortune… and somewhere around here is a baby with your face and my eyes, Mulder… maybe you'd better tell me, and tell me now…" she slowly pulled herself up, close enough to get right in Mulder's wary face, eyes boring into his as she reached out a shaky hand to grasp his shirt, right at the collar, and twist her fingers into the material until the sudden tightness was cutting off his Adam's apple, and he was making strange little "Guh, Guh" noises… she faced him, nose to nose…"Tell me, Mulder… WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" Mulder closed his eyes, tightly, and actually found himself praying for strength. He gently pried her tight fingers from his mangled Adam's apple, and retaining hold of her hand, eased himself closer to her, until he was very close; could breathe in the fragrance of the lemon shampoo she'd used. His other hand moved slowly, up to her cheek, thumb tracing the delicate bone structure there… and he held her widened, startled eyes with his as he stumbled over the words, a tone in his low voice which left her in no doubt of the truthfulness of what he was saying. "Scully… the baby… the baby is our baby… yours and mine. He's seven months old and we named him William Samuel Mulder. He's ours, Scully… conceived during the time we were on that island, the one I told you about; the one we were tossed on during our last case… tossed there and left to die except we didn't let those bastards get the best of us, Scully - we survived. We survived, and we thrived, and we loved, there on that goddamn island… and we made Will…" he broke off, tears welling suddenly in his hazel eyes at the look of complete shock and denial in her face, her rapidly shaking head, trembling all over as in a tiny, hoarse voice she uttered, "No, no, it's not possible, Mulder - I can't have a baby; can't have any children, no children, I'm not even a whole woman inside, how can I have a baby when there's nothing there, when I'm empty as a paper bag inside Mulder, no place for a baby to be created, nothing to grow in there, worse than a desert… nothing there for you to love, God how could you love a shell just a shell with no emotions and no love and unwilling to give anything…" her frightened babbling suddenly cut off by the fierce shaking Mulder was giving her shoulders as he cried to her, tears falling freely from his eyes, mingling with the ones running down her cheeks. "SCULLY, STOP IT, JUST STOP IT! Jesus, don't you know…" he yanked her abruptly into his arms and held her shaking body tightly against his. Threading his hands through her hair, pressing her head to his chest… now kissing every inch of her face, all over her sweet face as he shook and sobbed through his open mouth… he wound one hand into her hair and pulled her head back so he could look into her drenched eyes, his own softening, vision impossibly blurred as he took in the pale face and quivering lips of his wife. His wife… he covered her mouth with deep, wet kisses, feeling again her shock, then hearing a tiny moan coming from her throat as she yielded to him. She didn't have the strength to kiss back… but she didn't push him away, either. She was beyond rational thought by then; could do nothing more than accept. He broke the long kiss, buried his mouth in her ear, whispering to her, "I promise you I'm telling you the truth… and I'll tell you how we came together, the circumstances behind it, really I will… but for now, the only important thing, the thing you have to believe… is I love you, so damn much I'd gladly lay down my life for you… in love with you years before this island mess ever occurred, only I was too chicken-shit to tell you… and I don't know why you had a baby when a herd of doctors told you it would never happen… but it did. And he's the most wonderful child in the world, Scully… just like his mama. I don't think I'll ever be able to deserve all I've been given, all I've received, from you, and from our child… but I swear to you I will never let another thing harm you, or Will… we will get through this, and we will rise above it… we have to. Because if we don't, then… once again, they've won." He shook her a little, again; gazed into her still-teary eyes, eyes finally beginning to regain some of their cognizant shine, and whispered, "Do you accept this, Scully - do you believe?" She slowly raised her face, and one small, shaky hand touched his jaw; lingered there. She nodded, wearily, and dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. "Oh, Mulder… I want to believe…" Thanks for reading, and look for the next installment, "Re-Inventing Eden"… coming soon! Feedback treasured more than chocolate kisses, at char@chaffin.com !!!