TITLE: "RE-INVENTING EDEN" BY: Char Chaffin CATEGORY: Mulder/Scully Marriage, babies, M&S/Skinner friendship, Angst RATING: Strong "R", for sexual situations and disturbing imagery SPOILERS: All together now…"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: My so-dedicated Beta-Muse, Hillary (Foxsong), Shoshana and Dawn (Sister Moon) and Hester (Stormlantern), who have kept up with this series, offered me plot angles, questioned my judgment, offered advice, ideas, encouragement and even sent me virtual food during the writing of "Eden"… not to mention overflowing my email server with wonderful friendship. Also to Alison, one fantastic artist whose ideas and support are just awesome…Once again…you guys are the best! AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic has become an ongoing event, it seems… just when I think I have it finished, the plot thickens… and I find myself running to keep up with the flow! A lot of readers have emailed me with approval and yes, continue to threaten bodily harm upon my person if I leave them hanging one more time… well, guess what? Hurt me!! 'Cause I am gonna have to let you hang, at least one more time… but I promise you it won't be for long! Thanks to everyone who wrote and told me how much they are enjoying it, and now… the adventure continues… "Re-Inventing Eden" ** Chapter One ** The cry of his child awoke him from a quasi-nightmare and he sat up in bed with a jerk, forcing his eyes open and his body already halfway to the floor before he realized Scully was not there beside him. In a panic he ran from the room, all vestiges of sleep leaving him as he searched the quiet house. He strode first into the nursery; no sign of her… or for that matter, his son. His panic increased tenfold, as he ran down the stairs, now calling, "Scully! Where the hell are you!" Into the living room he ran, skidding to an abrupt halt… as he took in the reassuring sight of his wife and son, snuggled together on the wide sofa, slightly rocking back and forth. Will had three fingers in his little mouth and lay against her breast, half-closed eyes fastened with great intensity on his mother, who wore a slight smile on her tired face as she hummed softly under her breath. One hand wove through Will's silky baby curls; the other cradled him close. She looked up from the baby, and her sleepy, amused eyes met those of her much-relieved husband; she whispered, "He's almost asleep, Mulder…Mulder? You okay?" For Mulder had slumped weakly against the door frame as the relief of finding them both safe suddenly drained the life out of his legs. Slowly he walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Scully, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. He smiled, still a bit shaky; her brow furrowed in concern as she noted his lingering worry. "Mulder… what is it? Where did you think we'd gone…" He gave a deep sigh, and wound his fingers around her free hand. "It's nothing, Scully… had a bad dream; then I heard crying and thought I was still dreaming… guess I kinda over-reacted…" sheepish smile now, on his handsome face. Scully smiled and squeezed his hand softly; then her smile faded a little and she regarded him with a serious expression. "Bullshit, Mulder… you thought I was gone, didn't you? You thought I'd left you and Will, maybe even taken him with me. Tell me the truth… you still don't trust me… do you?" She tugged her hand free and ran it over her face wearily, then gently laid the sleeping Will next to her on the sofa so she could turn and face Mulder more fully. He never broke eye contact with her as he replied, "Yes, Scully… I admit it. I thought you'd gone… but not because I don't trust you - and not because I think you would have taken Will. And, certainly not because you're still having trouble remembering some of our life together. "I thought you'd gone… because I thought they'd come, and taken you… I thought I'd lost you, again…" Her eyes widened in concern, and sudden fear; she gripped his arm hard, not even sensing the damage her little nails were doing to his skin. He didn't seem to notice, either. "What are you not telling me, Mulder? What happened today, what went on that would cause you to have a nightmare, after all this time… I have a right to know!" She was almost on the verge of tears now, hanging onto him with both hands. Mulder pulled at her, hard, and jerked her into his arms, face buried in her soft hair. She clung to him in sudden panic, pressed herself as close as she could get. He opened his mouth; nothing came out. Shit… he had to tell her… she deserved to know. "Scully… I got a note today… shoved under our office door. Early today, right after I got in… someone had been watching for me, waiting… and they shoved this note under the door…" "What did it say?" He swallowed hard, picturing each word on that stark, white paper; a little snapshot in his mind he could very well have done without. "It… it said… 'The test isn't over yet, Mr. Mulder… and when we are ready to begin anew, your wife will be duly acquired for an extended tour of duty - oh, and perhaps the child as well. Enjoy your life…" his voice trailed off, as he felt her shivering; heard her gasp of shock and fright. She scooped Will into her arms, so deeply asleep he never even budged, and curled both of them into Mulder's trembling embrace. Crying now, tears rolling slowly down her pale face… she whispered shakily, "What're we going to do, Mulder? What can we do? We don't even know who these bastards are!" He ran a reassuring hand over her hair and gripped her and his son tightly; spoke into her hair. "I've already started doing it, Scully…" ** Chapter Two ** It had been such a long and exhausting three months, since she'd been released from the hospital and had gone home with Mulder. At first Scully had been unable to really accept the indisputable fact of her marriage. It was there, legalized, on paper and reaffirmed by everyone from Mulder himself to her mother. Even her brother Bill had confirmed it, although it still pissed him off to do so. She had a wedding band on her finger, a lovely set of rings exactly the style she would have chosen for herself; had probably somehow helped to choose, as a matter of fact… except she couldn't remember. She had a history with Mulder now, in the most intimate sense of the word. There were her clothes, hanging in the closet of a pretty bedroom which seemed to be a combination of both their tastes. Her clothes, hanging next to his; her shoes on the floor, nudged next to his. Her books nestled on a bookcase next to his - her toothbrush touching his on a little brass rack in the master bath… her soap and his snuggled together in a dish shaped like a swan, there on the lip of an old-fashioned clawfoot tub. Everything theirs, she thought bemusedly, as she wandered through the small but tastefully-furnished house with the large groomed yard and profusion of flowering gardens; everything together… blended. Meshed. Pureed in a soup of marriage that she still didn't recall. And floating in the middle of that soup… a child - comprised of such an even balance of both of them it was scary. Her eyes and skin texture; his hair and eyelashes. Her delicate nose; his wide, full smile. Her cheeks, his lanky body and elegant feet and hands, pared down to a baby size. And a lethal combination of both their temperaments; lethal because here was a child, a baby… so utterly charming at such a young age that he would always, easily, acquire for himself anything he set out to do, or to want. Determination and courage, fierce of heart and softly emotional as well… that was little Will in a nutshell. It took the child exactly five minutes to win Scully over, and another two to convince her that this enchanting bundle of energy bouncing on her lap was indeed, by some miracle, her child. She had gathered him almost painfully close to her, this wondrous discovery, weeping soft tears of joy against his silky hair, and he had not squirmed in impatience as some babies would, when held for too long on mama's lap… he'd cuddled there, wrapping his chubby little baby arms about her neck as far as he could reach, and had planted several wet, smacking kisses on her teary cheek. Then… his little hand had patted at her wet face, wiping the tears away…and she'd buried her face into his hair and howled louder. Several minutes later, finally drained emotionally, she'd looked down into the face of her child, noting with amusement his closed eyes and slack mouth… he'd fallen asleep, during the most momentous moment of his mother's life. And she'd stood up with him in her arms, and turned to climb the stairs, intending to put him in his crib… and she saw Mulder framed in the doorway, tears of his own rolling slowly down his cheeks. He'd witnessed most of the little drama, and since he was smiling as well, she knew they were happy tears. She'd smiled at him in return and had climbed the stairs and laid the baby down in his bed; Mulder had followed her. As she turned from the crib, Mulder had been right behind her… and had silently wound his strong arms around her, cradling her much the same as she'd just done to Will. For a moment she'd allowed it; had even hugged him back… then she'd pulled away, flustered, and had cleared her throat delicately. He'd let her pull away, a little, but still retained hold of her hands. She glanced up at him through her lashes, seeing the dark flush of desire on his face… knowing with sudden clarity just what he was thinking, was waiting for. She'd sighed and rubbed his cheek with gentle fingers. "Mulder… I'm overwhelmed… can you understand that? I have a complete, other life which I know nothing about, including a husband I don't remember marrying and a miracle baby I don't remember giving birth to… and certainly not in the situation which you and countless others have described to me! I live in a lovely house I don't remember choosing, surrounded by wonderful furnishings which I don't remember purchasing… a garden full of flowers I don't recall planting…" Her frustration was showing in her eyes, in the downward turn of her trembling mouth. Mulder had led her into their bedroom, and had seated her on the bed, kneeling in front of her so he could look into her face. He'd brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, had left his hand against her cheek gently demanding her attention. She'd looked at him with sad, worried eyes. "Scully… what's the last thing you remember… really remember… about us? Can you tell me?" She frowned and concentrated, thinking hard. "I remember packing clothes… casual ones, mostly. I remember digging through my apartment, looking for my passport, and calling you in a panic because I thought you had it. A taxi to the airport… I remember that. The airport was really crowded. There weren't any chairs left unoccupied, and so we sat on the floor and you made a mess with your sunflower seeds and I yelled at you and some old lady sitting next to us on a chair scolded me for treating my husband so badly…" Mulder smiled at the recollection… Scully had been so indignant. He prodded her gently with his hand; caught her wandering attention again. "What else, Scully? Anything?" She shook her head slowly, still thinking. "Mulder… right now I can't even remember for myself the specifics of the case, only what you and Skinner told me, there in the hospital. God! How could I have lost almost ten months of my life…" she'd started to weep softly, and with a groan of helplessness Mulder had pulled her into his arms and had slid down onto the bed, cradling her in his arms, letting her sob all over him, wishing like hell he could solve this Chinese puzzle for her… wishing she could remember. So frustrating… for both of them. His memories of her centered around a loving, passionate wife who held him deep inside her in the velvet darkness of their room at night, wrapped so tightly in his arms it was impossible to tell whose skin belonged to whom. And, her memories…? They centered around an FBI partner and friend, for whom she harbored love but not passion, caring but not endless lust and desire… a friend. Just a friend, again. Right back where we started, Mulder thought with bitterness… right back at square one. But for now… he'd held her in his arms, and let her sob it all out, hands clutching and twisting in his loose shirt, sobs and crying and hiccuping and catchy breaths, until she fell asleep in his arms from sheer exhaustion. He'd gently removed her jeans and shoes, left her in her tee-shirt, and had stripped down to his boxers, and he'd put both of them to bed. And in the morning she'd blushed a lot when she'd realized they'd slept together… but that night she'd been waiting in bed for him when he'd come back in from getting Will settled… and she'd held out her arms for him… and he'd come to her, and had gathered her close to him, spooning their bodies together; they'd managed to sleep through most of the night. ** Chapter Three ** It had been roughly a month later when he'd made love to her, for the first time since her accident. A rough and tense month, trying to work with her every day, to prod at her memory, to drag up anything, however small and insignificant, which would indicate a return of the Scully he knew was buried somewhere deep inside her. They lived together, worked together, for she'd gone back to the basement with him, on a limited basis, just a few hours a day hoping it would somehow jog her memory. They ate and shopped together, played with Will together… slept together. Mulder had been very patient… had not pressured her the least little bit. Still… she knew he had to be frustrated, figuring out somehow that his sexual appetites and needs were strong ones, stronger than even he suspected. She'd felt him tossing and turning in bed next to her, deep in the night; knew he woke up in a sweat sometimes, moaning her name… knew that on those nights he'd quietly get up and go into the bathroom… could just about picture what he did in there, even though he never made any sound. She knew… and she felt very badly about it. She'd searched her heart for the right course of action to take… Mulder had been so careful to not even overwhelm her with something as simple as a kiss. He had kissed her, though; light, sweet tantalizing kisses which brushed at her lips like butterfly wings and left her craving more. After almost a month of frustration, mostly for him but rapidly becoming hers as well… Scully decided it was time to take action… to take back for herself the life she knew was hers, even if she didn't remember living it. She wanted it, dammit… she wanted a normal life, with a house and a baby and flowers and toothbrushes touching on a rack and a Sunday paper that always ended up in the puddle made by the watering hose in the garden she knew she'd planted… a normal life with a man she adored in every way, even if she couldn't recall exactly how they'd been together… just knew it must have been very, very good. She wanted… and one night, about a month after she'd come home from the hospital… Dana Scully Mulder decided to just reach out… and take. She never planned anything specific; no big seduction scene or fancy candles and sexy lingerie. That wasn't her, she knew; that wasn't important to Mulder, either; somehow she'd known that. Her planning didn't go any further than a nice dinner with a decent bottle of wine, and Will spending the weekend with her mother. Maggie had not been nosy, when called to see if she was free for the weekend. She'd simply driven over, collected her excited grandson and all his toys and other baby paraphernalia, had kissed Scully warmly and taken off again… no questions asked. Scully couldn't believe she'd gotten off the hook that easily… then she noticed a piece of paper lying on her kitchen table, in the exact spot Will's diaper bag had sat. She picked it up and unfolded it; then laughed until she slid to the floor, weakly; in her mother's handwriting were the words, "You owe me big-time, Dana Katherine Scully Mulder… I want details on Monday, don't even think about squirming out of this… Love, Mom." She'd chuckled all through the long scented bath she'd taken; all through the dinner she'd cooked. She was still smiling when Mulder got home; he'd sniffed at the delectable smells coming from the kitchen… lasagna, his favorite. He had come into the kitchen and had caught Scully around the waist, kissing her gently. Scully had kissed him back, hard… the first time she'd responded so strongly. His eyes had widened in surprise, and desire… and he'd gasped into her open mouth, and had wound her tighter into his embrace, suddenly shivering with the force of what she'd made him feel with just one hard kiss… he'd pulled away enough to look into her eyes, to confirm, to believe… and her soft gaze and half smile of affirmation was his undoing. He'd picked her up and flung her over his shoulder in a fireman lift which had her gasping with lack of breath and dizzying laughter; somehow she managed to reach out a hand to snap off the oven switch so their dinner wouldn't burn… he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, Scully bouncing against his shoulder and squealing at the manhandling she was receiving from him. He burst into their bedroom and they both fell to the bed in a tangle of arms and legs and seeking hands… clothing unbuttoned and unzipped and flying all about the room, until they lay naked and shuddering against each other. And suddenly Mulder wanted to take it slow, the initial urgency replaced by a need to acquaint himself all over again with his wife, just as she would have to do with him. He'd brushed over her face with his closed eyes, tickling her sensitive skin with his long eyelashes… butterfly kisses everywhere, until she shivered and moaned with the exquisite feel. His lips traced along the same path as his lashes, stroking her so softly, so sweetly. Then his silky-rough tongue, sliding over the same trails as his lips… touching here, licking there. She was moaning continuously now, in a fever of anticipation; hands clenching and unclenching on the cool sheets, legs shifting restlessly underneath his until with a growl deep in her throat she twined both hands into his thick hair and pulled his face close to hers and demanded, "Mulder! Quit torturing me and kiss the hell out of me before I have to seriously hurt you…" Scarcely had the words left her mouth when he buried his lips in hers and both of them groaned into each other's mouth at the incredible rightness of it… the amazing good of it. And that feeling of good, that tenderness and roughness and rightness of it all bought crashing back to Scully another time, another place where the good was running like a molten river through her… a place where she'd been pressed down into high, sweet-smelling grasses while her mate had buried himself deep within her and had driven her eager body into the ground beneath her… deep, so deep… so big he'd been, and so deep. She found herself pushing at him, a whimper of need erupting from her throat, rolling her body over so she lay on her stomach, then she raised herself up on her knees and elbows, and turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, hair swinging loose over her back… eyes half-closed and glittering with a desire which shattered him to the core, had him still as a statue just gaping at her; at her position there on the bed… and she opened her swollen lips and a low, rusty purr came from deep within her… and he suddenly knew that somehow, she'd remembered. With a harsh moan he grasped her hips, positioning himself behind her… felt her preparing her body for his possession… and he buried himself deep with one hard stroke. She pushed back against him, just as hard… forcing him even deeper. And the good they created there between them, on their soft bed which suddenly had the smell of a jungle about it… the good flowed over them and through them, from the first hard thrust until the last echoing cry which left her throat even as his hoarse shout had him pumping wildly within her. So deep… so good. They slid down onto the rumpled bedsheets, still connected; he twined his fingers through hers, where they lay in limp little mounds on the pillow next to her head... pressed his face into her neck, mouth half-open against her skin, soothing the place where he'd bitten her… and she sighed in utter peace, loving the feel of his body crushing hers into the grasses… no, not the grasses… the sheets… it didn't matter. They remained connected, in that same position, all night long. They slept like the exhausted creatures they were; not needing food, or water… just needing each other. Good, his tired brain was able to assimilate, just before the waves of sleep splashed over him… this was a good thing. ** Chapter Four ** "It's getting better, Mom… Every day I remember just a little more. I think I'm in the home stretch here…" Next to her on the sofa, Maggie Scully gave her daughter a fierce hug, and whispered into her hair, "I'm so glad, honey… so glad. I was worried you'd never remember." Several days had passed since the night of her intimate reunion with Mulder… and Scully was convinced she'd made the right decision to force herself into remembering, even though at the time Mulder wasn't so sure it was wise. He'd wanted her madly, this she knew… but he'd been hesitant that night, until she'd shown him, without words, what she wanted… what she needed. Scully still shuddered to think of the explosion of feeling they'd shared, all through that warm, endless night of loving. They hadn't discussed anything the next day, the why or the how of it; both had accepted the return of their normal life together, and proceeded from there. Suddenly the future was on course again, after being tilted for so long. Scully was grateful… so grateful. She squeezed her mother in return, hard, and gave her a smacking kiss, much the same as one of little Will's. Maggie smiled at the big kiss, then as if she'd spoken the name aloud, looked around and commented, "Just where is my boy this morning? Not still asleep!" Scully shook her head and refilled their coffee mugs. "No, he's with Mulder… they went into the office to pick up some files and notes from Jason Halliday… he's the agent who's been working as a temporary partner for Mulder until I can get back into the basement full time - that is, if Skinner ever lets me come back for more than two hours a day! That man is worse than ten of you…" Scully eyed her mother in mock indignation as Maggie laughed and patted her cheek. "Nobody's as bad as a worried mama, Dana… although Skinner is very fond, and very protective of you… always has been, right from the first. But lately… yes, he has been overdoing it a little… why is that, I wonder? Could it be there's something going on that none of you have seen fit to discuss with me… perhaps something to do with a little note…" Maggie pinned her daughter with a stern eye. Scully gaped at her. "How did you - never mind… I probably don't want to know, do I?" Dana held her mug with trembling fingers; Maggie sighed and gulped down half her coffee. "No big mystery, Dana - just a nosy mama who knocked a stack of papers off your kitchen counter a few days ago, and found a xeroxed copy of that note in with the stuff I picked off the floor." Maggie gripped Scully's shoulder, and looked into her worried eyes with equal concern. "Sweetheart… what have you and Fox done to protect yourselves? What can be done? And what about Will? How much danger is he in?" Scully rubbed at her face wearily and her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know, Mom… honestly I don't. We expected to get another note, but whoever wrote the first one is obviously playing a little game with us, so… we wait. Meanwhile, steps have been taken to secure Will in a safe place… that's one of the reasons I asked you to come over this morning. Mom, I need to ask you a very huge favor… and you have the right to refuse, really you do. But, Mulder and I have decided we need to get Will out of here, out of DC, until this thing, whatever it is, blows over and it's safe for the little guy to be with us. I can't function like this much longer… looking over my shoulder, wondering if the house is being watched, or if every time I leave the house I'm being followed. Byers and Frohike sweep the house every other day for us, to assure we are bug-free; they've been doing this since the note was received, over a week ago. In fact, they swept just today, early this morning. But I still worry… for Will, most of all. "Can you go with Will, Mom? Can you take him and care for him until it's safe to return? I don't know where Skinner will put him, but I do know it'll be a place where he's guarded twenty-four hours a day. Part of the plan is that Mulder and I can't know the whereabouts, just… just in case something happens to one of us, and we are… pressed for information, if you get my drift…" She trailed off at Maggie's vigorous nodding, and sighed in utter relief, hugging her mother gratefully. Maggie held her and stroked her daughter's hair, wondering when on earth her child would ever be able to live a normal life, out in the open. "You know I'd be proud to take care of Will… for as long as it's needed. Don't even worry about it. Am I to understand the boys must know nothing of this? What will your story be? You know how Bill is…" Scully sighed and nodded ruefully; did she ever know how Bill was! She stood up and paced a little, in front of the sofa, thinking of all she'd need to explain to her family; the cover story which was being invented. "If I thought for one moment that Charlie or Bill could handle themselves… I'd say tell them. But… these are two men who barely know, much less understand, the kind of danger which Mulder and I have had to face on a daily basis, Mom. I think the full truth would decimate them both. It's better they don't know. I really hope this can be resolved within a month or two, but I can't be sure. Can you go into hiding that long, Mom? Think carefully! Your friends at church, the garden club circle… the rest of the family… Father McQue. All these people are used to hearing from you regularly, and you'll have to keep that up. But you will be living in a place which is un-tappable and impenetrable… and you will only be able to leave this place under guard. There will be a doctor on call in case of any emergencies… and the team assigned to guard you and Will have been hand-picked by Mulder and Skinner. The location is unknown to me, and will remain that way. You will be in complete seclusion for a long time, Mom… can you do it? Think carefully -" Scully stopped in mid-sentence as her mother enveloped her in a bear-hug and kissed her cheek. "Of course I can handle it, silly… so, as your husband likes to say… 'Bring it on'…" ** Chapter Five ** The tall, stocky woman dressed in black carefully laid the large bouquet of spring flowers on the ground in front of the marble headstone, and brushed away some dead leaves and pulled a few weeds. As she worked, she hummed a bit of his favorite melody; in her rusty but in-tune voice the strains of "Clare De Lune" could be heard on the silent air. Finished with her small task, she sat back on her heels, and wished she could have done more for him - could have given him more comfort when he was alive; more honor in death. As usual, she sensed the lacking in herself; the wanting she herself knew hovered over her, every day of her lonely life… the disappointment she knew he'd seen in her. Never quite good enough; never quite successful in her work; their work, not nearly as dedicated, as focused… as driven. She had tried so hard… all her life, from the time she was a little girl… oh, but that was not strictly a true statement, she supposed - not that she hadn't tried… but that she'd never really been a little girl, not in the truest sense of the word. Every waking moment was spent trying to please him; make him proud. Every high grade received in school; every honor and award, every accolade… for him. Always for him. It hadn't really made much of a difference. And, even now, with him cold in his grave and the wind settling around her bare, chapped ears… what did she do, instead of honor him, and his genius? She tore at him, tore at a dead man… complained about him to herself, and to a God she still wasn't completely convinced sat on high, looking down at her worthless self… but she always prayed, just in case… just in case. In case he was up there; in case he could somehow hear her, hear the sincerity in her words… see the endless tears which coursed down her face and stung her raw bottom lip… she'd been chewing at it non-stop. Another forbidden action from her childhood… chewing her lips raw. But now, he wasn't around to notice; to announce to her that discipline would be required, to halt that irritating habit of hers... to handcuff her to the tall bed-post in her frilly little girl's bedroom… to whip her on her bared bottom with the leather strap, for daring to show such a weakness as chewing at her lip… to whip her until she begged his forgiveness; his own special form of forgiveness, which he would ultimately give, as he pulled the panties the rest of the way down and held her thin hips steady while he pushed himself into her, from behind… always from behind. Never any other way, for she must remain innocent there, in front, he would tell her as he twisted and moved against her… innocent in the front, and his dirty little girl in the back… she would hang there, locked to the bedpost, tears of pain running salty and bitter into her open, silently gasping mouth… but she never made a sound… never. Not until with one last shudder he would finish punishing her, and then she would feel him slowly move out and away from her, and he would reach into his pocket for the key, and remove the handcuffs. Tenderly he would hold her, and help her dress, and lay her down on her pink silky bedspread, all the while telling her he'd had to punish her for her bad deeds, had to correct her failings, had to discipline her six-year old, undefined, rebellious body… while she sobbed great hiccuping tears of childish agony, into her matted and comforting teddy bear... After all, what sort of a father would he be, to let his child run wild and undisciplined? The little girl she'd been had remembered her lessons well… for the woman she'd become still spent her every waking hour trying to please him, though he'd lain in the ground these many months… to please the father who had expected so very much of her… To please Pell Friedrictoph. ** Chapter Six ** Scully packed the rest of Will's toys in a big box, and carried it down the stairs to place it in the hallway that was already cluttered with other boxes and one large suitcase. As she dropped the box beside the rest of the stuff, she renewed her silent promise not to break down and blubber like a two-year old… she knew they were doing what was best, for little Will. She knew there wasn't a choice to be made. But still… the word 'unfair' didn't even begin to cover what best described this terrible situation… so she consoled herself as best she could with the knowledge her son would be safe, and away from the danger which she was certain would hit at any given time. There had been another note… and this time, she'd been the one to find it… tucked away in Will's sand box, out in the back yard. Folded into the shape of a little origami bird, and perched on the top of a heap of sand cunningly molded to resemble a little birds' nest… a white piece of paper which she'd seen there, from her kitchen window; she had moved very slowly, out the back door and down the deck steps and around her pots of violet pansies, up to the pretty red and white striped wooden sandbox which Byers, Langly and Frohike had made, as a gift for Will on his six-month birthday… reached down with deliberate hesitation, to pick up the paper bird and unfold it and read the words which jumped out at her with stark black letters, chilling her clear to the bone and causing her numbed fingers to drop the unfolded bird back into its sandy nest while she walked back to the house and into the kitchen and up to the phone which she used to dial Mulder's cell phone to hear his warm voice speak her name, just before she lost every last ounce of control and screamed her fright and tears and anger and feelings of violation right into the mouthpiece. And she was still crying and screaming into the phone when he'd burst into the kitchen a mere ten minutes later and gathered her stiff, cold body into his arms and slid with her down to the floor, where he held her so tightly she carried the bruises for a week. And even though the note had gone the way of that previous note, as evidence in an increasingly fat X-file at work… the words in thick black letters danced on the inside of her shuttered lids, every time she made the mistake of closing her eyes… "Hello, Mrs. Mom… Nice to see you taking such good care of the child. We need him, and you, healthy and well… we're almost ready for you. Enjoy your life…" ** Chapter Seven ** Mulder loaded the last box into the back of the nondescript van, and slammed the doors shut. A lot of boxes, full of toys and babyish what-not; a playpen and stroller… a box filled with clothes and diapers… there was a brand-new crib and dresser already installed at the facility where Will would be squirreled away, protected from this as-yet unknown menace. Mulder wanted to know the location of the shelter… Mulder was glad he did not know the location of the shelter, for it would be one more mark of strength against the shadowed "Them"… whoever they were. A step behind him; he turned, to see Maggie just behind him, and he smiled a sad little tired smile and reached out a long arm to hook her close to his side. Her arms went around his waist, in true Scully-fashion, and he just buried his face in her soft, dark hair and tried not to shake too much. She rubbed between his shoulder-blades, unconsciously searching for and finding that knot of tension he always seemed to carry; her nimble fingers soothed over the area and he sighed and mumbled into her hair, "Have I told you yet how much I love you, Mom Scully?" She squeezed him in response; her hand left his back and ruffled up his hair. "I think you may have mentioned it from time to time, yes…" She gave him another tight hug, and peered up into his weary face with all the love and concern for him, shining in her eyes. "I want you to do me a very great favor, Fox… I want you to try not to worry, and try to remember how safe Will is going to be - can you do that for me? Both of us are going to be just fine… you have got to believe that - because if you don't, if you are thinking for one tiny second about our safety… then you may slip up somewhere, or overlook something so profoundly important to your own safety, that you lose the edge you'll need to defeat these bastards… whoever they are. Can you promise me?" She cupped his unshaven face with one hand; felt him nod into it, eyes closed; one tear slid out from the corner of an eye and she brushed it away tenderly, then reached up to kiss his damp cheek. He let her go, reluctantly; hoped she knew just how much he loved her; loved her constant mothering routine; how he'd always felt so much comfort in her little mom ways… apparently she did understand, for he could see it in her eyes, and it made him smile for real this time. A door slamming; they both looked toward the house, as Scully walked out, holding Will in her arms. She'd dressed him in his favorite outfit, which was still very big on him but still he wore it because he loved the colors: bright red overalls and a canary yellow shirt with blue dinosaurs on the sleeves, and red hi-top sneakers. He spotted Mulder and held out his little arms, gurgling excitedly; Mulder scooped him up and held him tightly, breathing in the sweet fragrance of baby and clean clothes and talcum powder; cheek pressed against his soft baby skin. Will wrapped both fat little arms around Mulder's neck and held on just as tightly. The sight of intense father-son communication was almost too much for Scully to bear; she stumbled around the other side of the van and cried in her mother's arms; Maggie crooned soft nonsense words to her and held her close and safe. This double whammy of emotional upheaval was the sight that greeted Walter Skinner's eyes as he drove up in a plain Ford sedan and parked behind the van. A small fleet of unmarked government vehicles, all behind him, also parked nearby; in the street, on the sidewalk and in the driveway. Plainclothes agents in suits waited behind the wheels, eyes somber and sympathetic as they bore silent witness to this most difficult farewell. Skinner got out of his car and walked over to Scully first, extending both arms and enfolding Scully and Maggie within their strong shelter. They promptly burst into tears and flooded his suit with moisture; Skinner merely held them close and let them vent. Mulder walked over to the threesome, still holding Will, and looked into his AD's face, seeing the silent worry and resolve; grateful beyond words for both; for a friend such as this. Without a word, he gently pulled his weeping wife into his embrace, feeling her arms wind around him and his son; they stood and communed in loving silence, there behind the van. Skinner led Maggie away, far enough to afford the family some privacy, and gazed down intently into her still-teary face. He cleared his throat, which was suspiciously thick and clogged with emotion. "Maggie… these agents are going to travel with the van for the entire journey. You and Will should be very comfortable with them; they are my most trusted agents and will take excellent care of you. You will change vans at least three times, just for safety's sake… and all three changes will occur late in the evening. Your final destination is a shelter which is considered one of our government's most well-kept secrets; I guarantee you won't be found by anyone outside the FBI dynamic… you will both be safe, for as long as it takes us to get our hands on this sick bastard and take him down." He squeezed her shoulder briefly, and bent a little closer, smiling faintly at her sudden grin of relief. "Do you have any questions… any worries? Now's the time to say, for I will be difficult to reach once you and Will are in the shelter, and I will only be able to check in with you infrequently…" Maggie covered his large hand with her much-smaller one, and smiled confidently up into his face. "We'll be just fine, Walter… and I really don't have any questions; I believe they've been answered quite well, so far. But I just have one thing that I need to say, to you…" and she faced him squarely, and both her little hands went up, curving around his hard-edged jaw, noting with amusement the sudden shock and surprise in his eyes at her touch…"I want you to take care of my children for me - they are more precious to me than I can ever express in words… and I want you to assure they don't worry about Will and me, for I wouldn't want them distracted by thoughts of concern. That means not telling them if Will comes down with a cold, or runs a fever… whatever happens, we are "OK" when they ask… promise?" Her serious eyes held his, and he found himself nodding weakly, ready to promise her anything, as long as she kept holding onto his face with those soft hands of hers. She searched his face for reassurance, and must have found it, for she nodded in satisfaction, then her hands tightened on his face and she rose on her tiptoes for one last admonishment. "And another thing, Mr. Skinner…please keep yourself safe, as well… for all you've done for my family, and for me… that's a very important issue, too…" And with those soft words, she brought her face close to his and pressed one sweet kiss right on his surprised mouth, her lips lingering for only a second or two before releasing his cheeks, and stepping back from him. Skinner's mouth dropped open and he swallowed hard, then somehow he mustered up a smile and some inane remark of assurance; Maggie couldn't help but chuckle. It had been a long time since she'd rendered a handsome man speechless… nice to know she still had "It". ** Chapter Eight ** The final farewells were made without additional fuss and tears; both Scully and Mulder could not have borne much more. They stood in the dark street, watching the van drive away, the other cars surrounding it in quiet protection; stood in their driveway with their arms around each other, watching two of the most important people in their lives drive off to safety. Scully brushed away the last of the tears and turned to Skinner, silently thanking him with body language only; with strong young arms tight around his neck and a warm kiss on both his pinkened cheeks. He hugged her back, hard, almost squeezing the breath out of her, face flaming now as her whispered words registered in his brain, "Thank you, Sir, more than I can say… and since when have you been on kissing terms with my mother…?" Skinner stuttered a few times, not knowing what to say; then her met Mulder's amused eyes and stammered, "Agent Scully! I assure you, I have the utmost respect for your mother…" his strangled words trailed off at her sudden laugh, and she looked up at him in utter mischief as she retorted, "Yes, I could see that… luckily for you, I could be persuaded to approve…" "I assure you again, Agent… there's nothing going on that needs approval…" "Sure, there isn't… you can tell us all about it, over a few good, stiff drinks." He laughed outright at her outrageous comeback, and followed her and Mulder back into the house, arms looped around both his agents' shoulders as he remarked, "What about that pie I saw on the counter in your kitchen? Jack Daniels goes down great with pie…" "Does it, now? I'll have to remember that the next time I want to get Mulder drunk and take advantage of him…" Mulder snickered, suddenly much relieved and feeling more lighthearted than he'd felt in weeks… thinking they may just make it though this mess. He teased his wife gently. "In other words, I'll be eating pie from now till Doomsday, right?" "You got it, G-man…" Thanks so much for reading, and look for the next installment, "To Keep Eden Safe", coming soon! Feedback treasured more than chocolate kisses, at char@chaffin.com !!!