Title: WATCHED

Author: Rhondda Lake

Rating: I'll be posting an NC-17 Version along with alternate R rated
chapers I will mark each chapter as it comes out.

Catagory: Crossover/Action/Thriller/MSR (sorry, I'm a relationshipper, I
can't help it) 

Summary: The Dog Scully takes in is more then he appears to be. Those
looking for the animal are willing to kill to get him.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Disclaimer: CC owns everything to do with the X-Files. This is a crossover,
but as to what with will have to wait till later to give credit where credit
is due. 

M/S Romance ALERT. If that turns your stomach, read no more.Parts of this
story is NC-17. I will mark such parts as such, and will post 'alternate'
PG-13/R rated chapters.

This story was basically born and bred from an IRC discussion. I want to
credit my fellow X-Files Romantics for their suggestions, support ect. But
especially Rob/Horta for getting my evil mind working...

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 1/21)

He was scared. So scared. His side hurt abominably, and he limped, fairly
certain his leg was sprained if not broken. But he had to think fast. He
couldn't give up. It wasn't only himself who would fall if the hunters
caught him. His brothers and sisters, cousins and aunts and uncles... all of
them would pay the ultimate price.

He slunk into an alley, whimpering a bit in pain, but quickly choking off
the sound. THEY could be close by. His senses were dulled from the car
crash. He couldn't count on them. He felt at a loss. Maybe he should throw
himself out into a busy street. A Mac truck ought to do the trick... But
even that was uncertain. What if he was only hurt worse, and THEY caught him?

He'd thought about killing himself a lot over the past two days. Ever since
he lost Joe. Wonderful, loyal Joe Doddard. Joe, the vet. Joe, the one who
knew and understood. Joe who had been forced off the road after a car chase
for no other reason then because he was a good man, willing to die to
protect his best friend.

Raw emotion boiled up in his chest at the thought of Joe. And he wished his
could cry. Crying always looked like it was a relief. All he could do was
slump and whimper a bit more. 

He was so alone. So afraid. He needed help. But where could he turn?

He limped further into the alley, and staggering, knocked over a trash bin.
He froze at the sudden, violent noise of the can crashing into the pavement.
Like a deer in headlights he couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Then a door opened, blinding him in a wash of too bright light. He flinched
and squinted against the glare. He saw a figure there, a silhouette. A
woman. He tried to run then, but he came down too hard on his leg. He cried
out. The woman came closer...
                             X

One more, mundane, simple task to make life appear normal. Dana Scully
balanced both trash bags in one hand as she reached for the door that led to
the alley and the dumpster.

Her mindless task was forgotten at the sound of a trash can falling. The
noise loud and startling an adrenaline rush. She dropped the bags and
reached for her gun, only to find she wasn't wearing it. Not to take out the
trash... 

She chewed her lip with indecision for a moment,anything could be out there
and she was unarmed. But never one to shrink from danger, she threw open the
back door. 

The spill of light from behind her seemed to pin a dirty, worn looking dog.
It squinted into the light then tried to bolt. 

She felt foolish until it let out a yelp and stopped.

The dog was hurt. It's leg was swollen and it's side was coated with either
mud or blood. Something in Scully went out to the poor creature. It would
most likely die alone out there, or end up mad from pain and attack someone. 

Before she knew quite what she had planned she was moving slowly towards the
animal. It whimpered and she started a soothing litany of mindless words.

"Shhhh... there boy. Are you a boy or a girl? I'm not gonna hurt you. I want
to take a look at you."

The dog stilled it's trembling, it's gaze seemed to be measuring. The
intensity of the animal's eyes reminded her forcibly of Mulder for some
unknown reason. 

Then the dog dropped it's head, it's tail began to wag and it limped
slightly toward her. 

She was cautious. It could easily turn vicious and bite, especially pained
as it was. The closer she got she could discern a long gash on it's side,
and the leg was definitely inflamed.

She should take it in it to the SPCA to be put down if it didn't have a collar.

Still weary, she reached out her hand and touched the slightly matted fur of
it's head. Under the dirt she could discern the earmarks of a pure bred
golden retriever. Her discerning eye taking in the proportions and lines.
This was a damn fine animal under the signs of misuse. It would be a shame
to put such a creature down. 

Sighing she stood up. "Can you make it up some stairs? I'll clean you up and
get some food in you. I might have something in my bag to take care of that
side of yours." She patted her leg to call the dog, and it meekly fell into
step at her heel. She smiled. It was well behaved too. 

Dana Kathrine Scully what the Hell are you thinking? You do NOT need another
dog. Queequeg had been gone barely a month... and he had been SMALL. She
shook her head. She'd clean it up, maybe take it to a vet, then she could
put an ad in the paper, free to good home. The dog followed her inside and
waited as she tossed the garbage bags into the dumpster. It heeled perfectly
as it limped up the few stairs.

It really would be a shame to destroy such a nice animal.

                                     X

The dog was by far the most well behaved she had ever heard of. It didn't
jump on her furniture. As a matter of fact it had limped into her kitchen as
if fearing it's filth would mark up her rug. She shook her head at the
foolish thought. It's last owners must have relegated it to the kitchen.

She examined the dog's injuries carefully, and it didn't pull away. It did
whine and yelp when she touched a particularly sore spot. It's leg was
sprained, not broken though, which was good news.

It had licked it's wound, most likely cleaning it fairly well, for there
were no signs of infection along the gash in it's side.

"Look boy, " Scully smiled, for a cursory examination had revealed it was
definitely a male, and not neutered, "I'm gonna try and get you in the tub.
I'll be as gentle as I can, but you need to be cleaned up, and then I can
determine if I need to put any stitches in your side. I don't know of any
vets open this late. So if you are good I might be able to take care of this
myself. Don't worry, I'm a doctor."

Scully laughed suddenly, she was talking to him like she had to Queequeg, as
if it could understand her. She really needed a life.

An hour later the dog was much cleaner, and if viewed totally from the right
side he would pass as a prize winning pure bred. His red/gold coat
glistened. He'd stood still for the hair drier. Scully had decided to give
it a shot to rid herself of the smell of wet dog after the animal had stood
perfectly still and allowed her to disfigure his left side into a parody of
a dog. She had had to shave the area of the gash, ten inches of pinkish dog
skin peeked out of his sleek coat. He had whined, but made no move as she
had given him a shot of local anesthetic then sewed up the gash. Fifteen
neat little stitches. She had also wrapped his leg in an ace bandage.

She was amazed beyond belief. The dog didn't squirm, or try to remove the
bandage. It didn't flinch when she'd used her razor to shave the area of the
wound, or stitched it up, not even when she applied the bedidine. It was a
better patient then Mulder.

Once clean and dry, patched and tended the animal had padded around her
apartment, looking things over. It had actually seemed to pause at her open
ID wallet and gun laying where she had tossed them on the coffee table when
she had come home. The dog looked at them, then at her, then back. The
gesture gave her a prickling sensation up her spine. Then it had moved on.
Sniffing around a bit before she fed it from a bag of Queequeg's dry food
she had still not tossed out. For all his obvious hunger he did not attack
the food. He ate almost daintily. Filled he padded to the living room then
curled up in front of her couch swiftly falling asleep.

She sat on a chair looking at the creature. It was an enigma, but it was a
harmless one. "What have you gotten yourself into?" She asked herself. 

Mentally she chided herself and told herself she would call the paper and
place an ad in the morning. She tried to shrug off the part of her that
didn't want to.



Disclaimed in part 1.

WATCHED 
by Rhondda Lake
(part 2/21)


The phone rang urgently. He wasn't sure why he thought he detected urgency
in the ringing of a phone, but he did.  He crossed the office and lifted the
receiver. 

"Johnson Security." The thin black man spoke clearly into the phone, running
his hand through his short greying hair. He was tired, it had been a long
night. The system he'd set up for one of his clients had a glitch so he'd
spent a late night figuring out what was wrong and working on fixing it.

He stiffened at the words on the other end of the phone and he ran down a
mental list of names. "You certain about this?"

He sighed. Looking up he saw Karen standing in the door way. His wife
frowned at his body language and absently stroked the head of the dog at her
side. "Shit. Is there any way of knowing if Buster got away or was taken?"

At the name both the woman and the dog at her side became alert and focused. 

Johnson nodded and listened for a while then sighed. "I'll pack and get a
flight to Washington right away." He looked over at Karen then at the dog.
"Yeah, I'll be sure to bring Uncle Scrappy, he'll be wanting to find out
what happened as much as we do."

The retriever stepped forward and gave one sharp bark. 

Lemuel Johnson hung up the phone and met his wife's eyes. "That was Travis.
There's a problem. We have a friend in Annapolis who may need our help."

"Be careful Lem. Both of you." Karen ruffled the fur on the top of Scrappy's
head.
 
                                 X

Harold Cook bent down, his black trenchcoat dragging into the mud around
him. He looked at the paw prints in the soft earth. With a pencil he lifted
the dog collar laying there. It was next to a chain fence with a broken
link. The collar had been sawed against the jagged link until the leather
snapped.

"I told you we were on the right track Cook. You tellin' me an ordinary dog
would lose his identification?" Cook looked up at his partner, Frank Webb.
Webb was tall and dark, a thick mustache offset his Italian looks. Cook
didn't much care for his partner, or for this assignment. Chaseing after
some damn fool mutt that may have been infected with some biological hazard
that another dog had escaped with from Banodyne Laboratories all of ten
years ago. If the damn infection was so bloody dangerous then why wasn't
there much of a problem? Hell if it effected humans the media would have a
hold of the story by now. This felt like shit work. Webb insisted that a
side effect of the biological contaminant was heightened intelligence in the
carrier. 

"Looks like a wounded dog got snagged and pulled itself free. That's what it
looks like." Cook read the tags. All the proper shots, and a name tag.
BUSTER. Then again the dog's owner had been a vet, if the dog had been sick
wouldn't the owner know it?  Something about this case didn't add up. 

Webb snorted. "You go right on thinkin that... and we'll lose this one just
like Johnson lost the original carrier ten years ago."

Cook ignored his partner's ravings and dumped the collar in a baggie. He
pushed his glasses further up his nose and stood. A short man, he had to
look up at Webb, but wasn't ever intimidated by the fact. What scared him is
that the NSA gave people like Webb guns...

"Let's just see if we can pick up the trail. The blood at the crash site
would indicate the mutt's wounded. It can't have gotten far. With any luck
the SPCA or a vet will call him in. They are all on the lookout."

Cook headed back to the car, leaving Webb to follow or not, but he didn't
plan on waiting around.

                                  X

Dana finished brushing her hair. She had gotten up early and took the dog
for a walk. It didn't seem to much care for the leash, but it appeared to
put up with it stoically. On returning she had called three different papers
to place an ad. Not free to good home. This animal was not only purebred but
in excellent health other than the signs of some sort of struggle or
accident. It was well fed and it's nails were trimmed. This dog had an owner
who cared about it somewhere. Now if that owner had thought to give his or
her pet a collar the whole situation would have been resolved by now.

"Look, I'll be back later tonight. I'm sorry I have to leave you all day,
but I have a job." Scully crouched and ran her fingers through the silky fur
around the dog's ruff. "Be good, and if you ruin my carpet I'll use your
hide to cover the spot."

The dog actually looked insulted. It snorted loudly. 

"So... until an owner shows up,  what am I going to call you?" She smiled
and rechecked the animal's stitched side. "Well you are a survivor... I
know. I'll call you Ishmael. How about Ishy for short?" 

The dog pushed his head gently at her chest, almost toppling her. "Ok, Ishy
it is. Now be good while I'm gone. Wait till I tell Mulder about you. He's
gonna either have seven kinds of fits or be a joy to watch as he tries NOT
to have a fit." 

Scully patted the dog's head and  left, locking the door behind her.

                                       X

She was gone. She was nice. She was trouble as much as she was salvation. He
understood about the lost and found ads she'd placed. THEY would be looking
for just such a thing.

He looked at the desk by the window. Seated atop it was a computer. The dog
once known as Buster almost seemed to smile.

                                       X

Mulder was already wading through a pile of paperwork when she arrived. He
looked up at her over the top of his reading glasses and poked his pencil at
the coffee machine. She eyed it, then the stack of files awaiting HER and
made a beeline.

Once fortified she sat down opposite Mulder and plugged in her laptop.

Paperwork. She hated the dreaded excreata of bureaucracy. They had only
returned from a field assignment in Wyoming yesterday afternoon. With any
luck they could put enough of a dent in these documents of doom so that they
could have the weekend free. 

Scully pulled the top file from the tower awaiting her and glanced at the
list documenting a budget report from a case nearly a month ago.

"Mulder how long have we been putting this off?"

He smiled slightly, not even looking at her as his long fingers danced over
his own keyboard. "Long enough that Skinner is currently threatening us with
an assignment running wiretap on a suspected polar bear poacher in Alaska if
the backed up reports and files are not on his desk by Monday morning."

Scully's jaw dropped. She looked over the neat stacks around them and looked
back at Mulder. "The CDC confiscated my long underwear after our last jaunt
up north. Looks like I had better buy some more."

Mulder actually chuckled,"Do your long underwear have those easy access trap
doors in the back?"

She flicked her plastic coffee stirrer at him. 

"Since I doubt we'll get this all done today, your place or mine?" He had
dropped his voice for the last bit, to a semi whisper.

"Ummm... Better be mine. I have something I have to be doing..."

Mulder frowned slightly. "Do you have a date?"

Yeah, as if. She wondered what he'd say if she said yes?  "No. I just have a..."

"Scully are you shedding?"

She looked at him, startled into silence for all of two seconds. "WHAT?"

He stood up and circled the desk before crouching next to her. He was still
frowning, those little creases forming on his forehead so endearingly. He
reached out to run his finger's softly over the fabric of her blouse, just
above her left breast. Her breath caught for an eternal minute before he
moved his hand back to hold it in front of her. Trapped between his thumb
and forefinger were two strands of red/gold hair. "Not quite your shade.
Something you want to tell me?"

When the power of speech was returned to her she cocked an eyebrow and met
Mulder's hazel gaze unflinchingly. "Well... I call him Ishmael." She fought
hard against a smile.

"I knew this Moby Dick obsession of yours would get you into trouble. Does
he have a real name?" His tone was teasing but there was something in his
eyes was it dissapointment or hurt, or both? And what right did he have to
have either emotion reflected there.

"I don't know we never discussed it. But he's very handsome, with just that
shade of hair and the softest brown eyes. I don't know there was just a
connection." She smiled sweetly and pulled the strands from Mulder's
fingers. "He's a bit short, even to me... but he more then makes up for it
in manners."

The look on Mulder's face almost made her loose control and ruin the fun.
That wounded puppy look would give Ishmael a run for his money.

"Where did you meet him? This mystery man?"

"In the alley behind my house. He was lost and alone, and hurt. So I took
him in, cleaned him up and fed him." She couldn't help but smile. This was
too perfect.

The look of shocked horror on Mulder's face almost tore away her fragile
control. "You WHAT?" Mulder shot to his feet and began pacing the room,
running his hands through his hair in barely controlled rage. "You took in
some street person? Scully I never pegged you for stupid... he could have
been violent, insane or even an assassin... God Scully this has to be the
most brainless..."

Scully laughed. It was a sound seldom heard, especially in the office and it
brought him up short. He looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"It's a dog Mulder. Ishmael is a dog. He's a purebred Retriever with the
sweetest disposition. I think he'd been hit by a car or something, but he
was well fed and despite the signs of recent trauma, in good health. I am
certain he's got an owner out looking for him so I'm keeping him while I run
an add in some papers. Now will you calm down and try to get as much of this
crap done as we can today?"

"A dog?" He looked at a loss, until one of his rare room brightening smiles
lit his face. "You took in a stray? I never pegged you for such a soft touch
Scully." 

"Well I took you in didn't I?" She turned in her chair to begin on the
paperwork.

She was waiting for him to say something else. Maybe a jab like 'at least a
retriever is a REAL dog' or some other comment. But it didn't come. He'd
never much cared for Queequeg, and he made no pretense at grief over his
demise. But he did respect her feelings on the subject, and he recognized it
was still a sore spot for her.

He'd returned to his desk and they worked in a comfortable silence for a
half hour before Scully looked at him over the field of files. "Chinese
tonight? 
My apartment, my dishes, YOU buy."

"Sure Scully, take advantage of me."

She shook her head and reached for another file.   


Disclaimed in part 1.

WATCHED
By Rhondda Lake
(Part 3/21)

Scully unlocked the door and pushed it open. The dog was seated in the hall,
far enough back that he wouldn't trip her. She smiled at him and held the
door open for Mulder. The dog stood up as Mulder entered the apartment,
hefting the box originally designed to hold computer paper but now stuffed
with the paperwork they had not managed to finish at the office and topped
off with the bag containing chinese take out.

Mulder set the box down then stood, hands on hips, staring at the dog.
"Scully it's a mutant."

The dog huffed through it's nose and limped to Mulder, looking up at him. He
didn't make the normal dog action of sniffing out a new person, he just stared. 

"Mulder I had to do that to patch him up. He's actually a prime example of
his breed.

Mulder hadn't moved. "Scully... He's STARING at me." Mulder didn't look
away. He didn't want to loose a staredown to a dog, but something in this
dog's eyes sent a shiver down his spine. It's eyes, they weren't... normal.
Mulder frowned, searching the direct gaze piercing him. The eyes were the
soft brown of any dog, right shape, no unusual color. So what was it?
Expressive. Those eyes had a depth that didn't have any place in the eyes of
a dog. Mulder couldn't look away. Some small part of his mind registered
that a dog was supposed to have a short attention span, so why was this one
not moving?

"You don't HAVE to stare back you know." Scully patted her leg and held up
the leash. "Come on Ishy, you've been a good boy."

The dog snorted again and broke the competition, opting for a relieving
walk. As Scully hooked the leash the dog shot Mulder what could only be
interpreted as a smug look. 

Once they were out the door Mulder moved the box into the living room and
took the large paper bag filled with their take out dinner off the top.
Storing the dinner in the kitchen he sat on the couch and tried to divvy up
the work fairly, and to ignore the idea that there was more to that dog then
met the eye.

                                          X

In a dingy diner Cook sipped at his coffee, absently perusing the classified
section of one paper even as Webb poured over the same section of another.
Webb had declared the exercise was equal to looking for a needle in an
entire barn. 

Cook pushed his glasses further up his nose and ran his hand over his
balding head. He was beginning to agree with Webb. Satan must be out buying
a pair of ice skates, the day had come that he was agreeing with Webb.

Webb was chewing on the end of his thick mustache, just one of his annoying
habits. He looked across the table at his partner questioningly.

"You gonna tell me why we are really after this mutt? If it's a biological
hazard like I was told the CDC would be after it. I can't see how a dog is a
threat to national security."

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but the original infected dog was being
tested with a new form of biological warfare. We CAN'T let the CDC know
about this. Or anyone else." Webb looked back at his paper.

"But again, the original carrier escaped ten YEARS ago Frank. If this
experiment was so deadly it would have spread like wildfire in that amount
of time."

Webb stared at his partner, something cold and calculating in his eyes. He
never much cared for Cook, if Cook wasn't such a good tracker he'd have told
his bosses to kiss his ass. But if the man didn't stop asking questions he
shouldn't, Webb would take great pleasure in putting a bullet between Cook's
eyes when this job was done. Cook never learned the fine art of following
orders and not asking questions. Which was why the jerk was fifty and still
working assignments like this. Under the command of younger, and more
circumspect agents.

He was spared having to say anything when Cook flashed a grin and held up
his paper.

"Looky here. Found, Retriever. Annapolis area. Good health. Call 555-3636."

Webb slapped down his paper. "Lets get to it then. We have to contain this
thing."

Cook paused as he slid out of the booth, for some reason he didn't care for
the implications of Webb's words. He didn't care for it at all.

                                      X

Dana fed a quarter into the box at the end of her street and pulled out the
evening edition. Ishy sat at her feet quietly, looking up at her.

Tucking an errant lock of auburn hair behind her ear she flipped through the
classifieds. Frowning a little she started the short return walk to her
apartment.

"Now when we get back try not to antagonize Mulder will you? He doesn't like
being outdone by a dog." Scully smiled and Ishy gave a soft woof. 
                                       
                                      X

Webb had called the number in the paper on the way. A man had answered and
confirmed that the dog in question was a golden retriever, and didn't appear
to be a stray. Webb had told him they would be by to pick up his daughter's
dog in short order.

"I'll lead this dance. You just get the dog." Webb announced as they got out
of the car. Cook held the muzzle and leash in his hand as they approached
the door. This was the address the man on the phone had given.

Webb knocked and the door was opened by a smiling dark haired man. "You must
be here for the dog. Do you mind if I ask you to call him, just to be sure.
We've sort of gotten attached to him, if you know what I mean."

Webb smiled easily, only Cook noticed the expression didn't reach his eyes.
"Sure thing. Where is he?"

"In the back room. He just got back from a walk." The man held the door open
allowing Webb and Cook access to the apartment.

"Buster." Webb called into the house. "Buster, here boy."  There was no
reaction in the house. Webb frowned. He'd been warned that if the subject
was what it was suspected it was he was quite capable of playing 'dumb dog'.
"You said he was here?"

A small woman emerged from what appeared to be a kitchen. "You must be Mr.
Jones. He didn't react at all. Maybe you should come on back and check to
make sure."

Cook followed Webb into the kitchen. The place was scrupulously neat. Almost
sterile. The Dog was drinking from a plastic cool whip container being used
as a water dish. The animal looked up at him and cocked it's head. Webb met
it's eyes.

The dog whimpered questioningly. 

"That's our Buster all right. Look I'd really like to thank you for taking
him in. My kid was at a loss for the past week. She's really attached to him
ya know." Webb motioned him and Cook stepped forward to place the muzzle and
the leash on the dog.

"Is that necessary? He's such a good dog, I think muzzling him is a bit
extreme." The woman spoke up.

"He's usually really good, but he goes nutty in the car. Mike why don't you
take him out. I'll finish up here."

Cook looked at Webb questioningly. Something freezing in his heart. "Come on
Mike, You know the reward." Webb shrugged. "We had a five hundred dollar
reward for Buster's safe return."

Cook felt off. Yes, there was a reward promised on the posters given to the
SPCA and vets in the area. But he hadn't expected it to be paid up under
this situation.

"All right. Thanks folks. We really appreciate you returning Buster to us."
Cook led the mildly protesting dog out to the car.

Once his partner was out of the house Webb smiled at the couple before him.
"Now about that reward..." He pulled out his silencer equipped Walther ppk
and took quick aim.

There was a moment of shocked fear on the man's face before a neat hole
blossomed in his forehead with a fine mist of blood exploding out the back
of his head. The woman didn't scream, even though her face was a mask of
horror, she dove for cover, just outside the kitchen door.

Webb stepped around the door and saw her trying to cross the living room.
Two shots took her in the back. She fell and was still as he approached. To
be certain he pressed his gun to the back of her head and pulled the trigger
once more.

Unscrewing the silencer he deposited it in his pocket and checked the house.
Neither he nor Cook had touched anything. It looked like their job was done.
Mr. and Mrs. Chisdok wouldn't have to worry about the dog they found anymore.

                                 X

Mulder looked up when Scully came back in. She tossed the paper on the couch
next to him. "My ad isn't in there. I'm gonna call the paper and see if it
was misplaced or what." She unhooked Ishmael and picked up the phone,
dialing the number she'd found this morning.

"Hello, this is Dana Scully, I'm calling about a lost and found ad I'd
called to place this morning."

Mulder looked up again to see Scully frowning. "I don't understand, I didn't
cancel it. Wait a minute, how was it canceled? E-mail? There must be some
mistake..." 

All of a sudden the dog jumped up. One paw accidently hitting the hang up
button in the phone as it began to lick Scully's face and chin.

"Ishy... Ishy get down." She pushed him lightly away. "look what you did.
You hung up the phone on me." She shook her head and hit the redial.

The dog's paw once again hit the hang up button, this time he barked. 

"What's wrong with you?"

"If I didn't know better Scully, I'd think he didn't want you to call the
paper." Mulder grinned at her, until the dog barked again. His eyes narrowed
slightly and he studied the dog, then shook his head.

"Call in the morning Scully, we still have to wade through this mess."
Mulder held a file out to her. 

"All right. Come on, I'll heat up dinner. Hey Ishy do you like beef lo
mein?" She brushed past them and into the kitchen.



Disclaimed in Part 1

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 4/21)


Scully had disappeared into the kitchen and the dog began to toss around a
small red ball that had once belonged to Queequeg. He looked stupid playing
with it. It was too small for a dog that size. 

The dog would toss it up in the air and try to catch it before it hit the
floor. It missed a few times due to it's limp. Mulder tore his eyes off the
stupid mutt and began filling out a report by hand. He smiled to himself, at
least he didn't have to rifle through a ton of field notes like Scully did.

The Microwave was beeping in the kitchen but the dog was unusually silent.
Mulder stopped writing and tapped his pen against the file in his lap. The
dog was nowhere to be seen. Mulder looked around. That animal made him
nervous. Then he spotted it. The retriever had it's face burried in his
suitcoat.

"Hey!" Mulder set the file aside and stood up. "That isn't your chew toy."

By the time he reached the dog it had his identification wallet out on the
floor. Mulder froze, something was very weird here. The dog flipped it open
with it's nose, making Mulder frown even more. How the hell did a dog know
how to open a wallet?

The dog looked at the Badge and ID then up at Mulder. It snorted then picked
the wallet up in it's mouth and walked forward to stand before the puzzled
man. Ishy pushed Mulder's hand with his head, and Mulder took the wallet out
of the dog's mouth.

"What's going on here?" Mulder muttered under his breath. 

The dog limped past him and began to resume his game with the ball. It was
almost as if a switch had been turned. One minute the animal was exhibiting
some strange, almost intelligent behavior the next it was acting like a
typical dog.

Mulder returned the slightly damp wallet to his suitcoat's inner pocket and
returned to the couch.

Scully came out of the kitchen balancing two plates of reheated food.

Setting one on the coffee table before Mulder she sat next to him with the
other before reaching for a file of her own to work on.

"That dog didn't have ANY collar?" Mulder looked over at his partner. Scully
had just eaten a forkful of lo mein and she shook her head slightly as she
sucked in a particularly long noodle through pursed lips. She hadn't even
bothered to look up. Mulder forced himself to look away from her.
Unpartnerlike thoughts, do NOT think unpartnerlike thoughts he kept
repeating in his head.

Scully swallowed and started to search through her field notes. "No collar,
no scar for a id chip, nothing."

The dog had stopped it's playing and looked at them, as if understanding
that they were talking about it.

"It behaves strangely for a dog." Mulder started on his own food.

The dog almost grinned then came up in front of them to whimper.

"Really? Mulder it's a dog. Right now it sees us eating and it's begging for
some of our food. You don't have to see an X-file in EVERYTHING you know."

Mulder looked at the dog again. She was right, it was sitting there, making
the little whiny noises in the back of it's throat. Mulder picked a piece of
beef out of his lo main and tossed it to the dog. Ishy caught it easily.
Then the dog inched closer.

Scully laughed. "Now you are in for it. You fed him, you won't get rid of
him until your plate's empty."
        
                                     X

Lem got off the plane in D.C. and claimed his baggage and the travel carrier
containing Scrappy. Once he had rented a car he let the dog out and loaded
his suitcase in the trunk. 

"Sorry about that ol' boy, but no mutts in coach. Don't feel bad, sixty
years ago they wouldn't have left ME in coach either, least not the front
half." The dog whuffed and sat up in the passenger seat.

On the drive away from the airport Lem began to outline the situation.
"First we find a hotel, then we call home and see if Travis has called in
any new information." Scrappy looked at him accusingly with his big brown
eyes. "Oh, sorry." 

Lem reached over to flip open a laptop computer between them. Reaching into
his coat pocket he pulled out a pen and handed it to the dog. Scrappy took
the pen in his mouth then bent to the computer. Lem tried to drive smoothly
and ignore the slow clicking sounds at his side. He felt a paw on his leg
and looked down briefly at the screen.

WHERE JOER FOUJND/  ME GOOD NOSDE.

Lem chuckled and Scrappy growled at him. "Sorry, I know typing in a moving
car throws you off. Ok Joe was found on Annopolis Road. As soon as I find us
a place to stay and check in I'll take you there."

He chuckled then, to himself. Ten years ago if someone had told him he'd be
driving through DC with a superdog and a laptop he'd most likely have pulled
his gun on the unfortunate soothsayer and waited for the men in white coats.
But a lot can happen in ten years. The world was changing. He looked briefly
at his companion. And it was changing for the better. He'd once told his
friend Walt that man was achieving godhood, and that he deserved to get
there, if he could create something like a dog with human intellegence. But
he had grown to learn over the years that man was not a kind and benevolent
god to his creation. We created life... and then try to deny it freedom.
He'd helped assure that that didn't happen once. He'd try to do so again.
He had to try to keep the government from getting their hands on any of
Einstien's get. If he failed...

Lem felt his hands become damp on the steering wheel, and the fine hairs on
his nape stand to attention. If he failed it would be slavery for another
race. Or extermination.  Lem shook his head slightly. No way, no way was he
gonna stand by and let that happen. He just prayed that Buster was alive and
safe...

                                      X


They had been working for hours. Mulder took off his glasses and rubbed his
eyes. 

"The words are starting to swim. I think it's time to quit." He closed the
file and put it on a stack of 'done' work.

Scully sighed and closed her own as well. "It's half past midnight, Mulder."
She stiffled a yawn, trying to hide it behind her hand. "We don't have much
more to go. Why don't you stay the night, we can finish in the morning and
have the rest of the weekend free. Once this stuff is finished I don't even
want to THINK about work until Monday morning."

"Ooo, you gonna wake me or nudge me?" He gave her his best leer.

She raised an eyebrow in the Scully/Spock manuver. "The couch Mulder. You
get the couch."

Tempting as the offer was he wasn't certain he could stand having that damn
dog watching him all night. It had been curled up looking at them as they
worked. Mulder couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated.
"That's ok. I'd rather go home where I can shower and change. I'll be over
in the morning though."

Scully watched him leave and set about cleaning up the small mess they had
made, including depositing the sandwich bag of sunflower seed shells into
the garbage. Ishy followed her, watching her check the locks on the doors
and windows. He followed her into her bedroom and lay down so that he was
between the bed and the door.

Scully changed for bed and shook her head at the dog. "If I trip over you in
the case of a late night bathroom run you are going to be one sorry dog." 

The dog whuffed quietly and lay it's head on it's paws.

                                          X

Once home Mulder couldn't sleep. Now that in and of itself was not terribly
unusual. But this time slumber was not elusive due to fear or soul
searching, being caught up in his work or any other identifiable reason. It
took Mulder the better part of an hour to figure out it was the dog Scully
had taken in that was bothering him. 

He had felt no threat from the animal, no animosity.  There was no intuitive
sense that the animal was in any way harmful. But it disquieted him none the
less.

"God can you sink any lower than to feel jealous of a dog?" He mumbled into
the shadows that danced to the patterns of light coming from his TV set. Was
that it? What did he have to feel jealous about? WHY would he feel jealous?
>Don't go there.< His conscious mind warned him.

No, it wasn't quite jealousy. It was the strange intelligence in the
animal's eyes. The uncanny way it sought out his badge and examined it
before returning it.  It's incredible attention span, and the way it watched
them all night. It was... spooky. Mulder smiled to himself at that thought.
Yeah, right. Scully has a point. I'm looking for the unusual in everything
now, even in a strange dog.

Sleep still elluded him. Feeling slightly embarrassed he went to the phone.
He punched in a number he knew by heart and got an answering machine. 

                                    X

Cook sat down heavily in the recliner of his apartment. He poured himself a
glass of whisky and tried not to think. They'd handed the dog over to the
regional head of the NSA, and the entire meeting had left a thick oily taste
in his mouth. Maybe it was that they were handing over the animal in an
underground garage, not even the garage of headquarters. Maybe it was the
presence of the others. Not only Director Simms but the three men who shoved
the frightened dog into a cage and the two men who watched. They all wore
tenchcoats and suits, and in DC that proclaimed loud as a neon sign they
were government. So where were the doctors? If the dog was carrying some
sort of biologically engineered disease shouldn't there be at least one
doctor present to assess it's health?

The two watchers made his skin crawl. One was a tall black man the other was
a watery old chimney. Neither had said a word. As soon as the dog was caged
and loaded into the back of a non-descript van those two got into the back
with it. 

Director Simms had patted them on the back, told them how wonderful it was
to see a job well done then dismissed them. They would find new cases on
their desks Monday morning.

Harold Cook downed his whiskey and closed his eyes. This whole assignment
had gone from feeling like shitwork to feeling like a set up of some kind in
just a few short days. And Harold Cook did not like being set up. He didn't
like it at all.



Disclaimer: Yes the X-Files and all things associated with it are the
property of Chris Carter, 10/13 productions FOX and anyone else who came up
with an idea or the money to put this great show on the air.
The Idea of Mulder playing Basketball with some guys from Violent Crimes
isn't mine either. I can't recall who's idea it was, it just wasn't mine.

If you have gotten this far and have not figured out the crossover you have
either never read the book in question or forgot it. So I'm finally giving
credit where credit's due. Lemual Johnson, Banodyne Laboratories, Travis and
Nora Cornell (Sam & Nora Hyatt) and the infamous Einstein are all owned and
coprighted by Dean R. Koontz. The book in question is "WATCHERS". Thus the
title of this story. (Sorry folks, Travis, Nora and Einstein only get
mentioned and have some phone/e-mail time in this one. This story is about
Scully, Mulder and Buster.)
Buster, Scrappy, Harry Cook, Frank Webb and such are mine. 
Cancerman and Mr.X appear courtesy of Satan who owns their souls...
Yes, this story carries a M/S Romance alert. 

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 5/21)


Scully showered quickly and dressed casually in white jeans and a baggy
white tee shirt. She knew Mulder would be showing up any time now. She set
the coffee pot to brewing and cut a fresh grapefruit in half for her
breakfast. Setting both aside she got the leash and hooked Ishmael up.

"Come on, walk time." She checked him as she clipped on the leash. The dog's
limp was less pronounced this morning and his side was healing well.

She wandered slowly down the street, letting the dog take care of business.
He sniffed at the trail of a hundred dogs before him, but made sure he
marked the corner of the stairs on the outside of her apartment.  In less
then ten minutes they were back and Scully was leafing through the morning
paper. Ishmael went into the livingroom. His eyes skimming the tapes and CDs
on the shelf next to the stereo. His tail wagged jauntily as his nose fell
on an album title he was familiar with. Joe loved classic rock. 

Mulder knocked at 8:30. When she opened the door he grinned. "Avon lady."

"Do you drive a pink car too?" Scully let him in.

He passed her, following the scent of fresh coffee he called over his
shoulder. "Scully, that's the Mary Kay girls, you ought to know better." 

"And how did you get so up to date on door to door cosmetics sales?" She
moved past him to sit at the table as he poured himself a cup of rejuvenation. 

"Now Scully, if I told you I'd have to kill you."  He opened one of the
overhead cupboards and brought out a box of cereal before fetching himself a
bowl and spoon. 

"Help yourself, Mulder."She smiled as she spooned another wedge of
grapefruit out.

"Don't mind if I do." He answered, his head burried in her fridge as he
sought the milk. "Geez don't you have REAL milk?" He resignedly brought the
carton of 1% to the table.

"It is real milk. It came from a cow." She turned her attention back to the
morning edition.

"Yeah, then had every redeeming quality in it removed by some unknown
scientific process that most likely involved radiation and a new brand of
Purity Control." He poured it over his corn flakes none the less. He took a
healthy swallow of coffee and his face went red, and he gasped for breath. 

He managed to gasp out, "Water."

Scully struggled not to laugh as she leapt up to get him a glass of
tapwater. He snatched it out of her hand and gulped it down.

"Careful Mulder, the coffee's hot."

The glare he gave her told her he had paid attention to her own scathing
looks. "Thanks for the warning. You taking lessons from Micky D's or
something. I should sue you for damages, I may never be able to use my
tongue again."

Scully laughed, "You're talking just fine now."

He poured some of the pseudo-milk into his mug, despite the fact that he
didn't much care for light coffee and looked up at her with a lazy smile
that made her heart rate speed up. "That's not what I meant."

Scully almost choked on her grapefruit. Mulder smiled triumphantly at her.

"We should be done by noon, I agreed to play in a game at one. You wanna
come watch? You can root for the other team."

"Who are you playing this time?" 

"Couple of guys from forensics. Hey maybe you can cheer on Pendrell."

She just rolled her eyes.

When they moved on to the living room neither noticed Ishmael pull the paper
off the table and start looking at it with decidedly undoglike interest.

                                             X

The phone blared. It was too freaking early in the morning, on a SATURDAY
morning, for phone calls.

Cook reached out blearily for the phone on his nightstand. His hand found
it's target and he pulled the receiver up to his ear.

"This better be good." He grumbled into the phone.

"That dog you brought in... it was the wrong dog. It was... uninfected and
at least two years younger then the retriever we are after. The hunt is
still on. I want both you and Webb in my office in one hour." Simms hung up
before any protest could be uttered.

Damn! Cook slid out of bed and headed for the shower. He had thought he'd
washed the last of Webb's stink off of himself yesterday.

                                           X

Mulder signed his name to the last document with a bit of a flourish. Done,
fineto, finished, FREE. He closed the file and sat back silently watching
Scully work. She was on her last file as well. He smiled to himself, he had
won their unspoken race. 

She sat curled in her chair, her glasses glinting in the sunlight coming in
through the window. That same sunlight burnished her hair into a brilliant
copper. She looked completely absorbed in the report. The pen in her hand
danced over the paper lightly. She looked like a college student cramming
for a final. Or a Raphaelite painting.

She was undeniable beautiful sitting there, and Mulder shifted in his seat,
uncomfortable. He tried to work some decent basketball plays in his head as
a distraction.

He didn't notice Ishmael next to the stereo, or the dog pushing the play
button with his nose. But the quiet air of the apartment was shattered by
the fierce rift of an electric guitar the likes of which only Jimmy Hendrix
could produce. 

Both agents jumped at the sudden sound. Luckily the stereo was not on very
loud. But both of them wore a stupid stunned expression on their faces.

//She's a sweet little heartbreaker. She's a sweet little love maker.//
Scully was out of her chair like a shot making a mad dive for the stereo. //
Oooo, Foxy Lady.// Scully turned off the power before hitting the stop button.

"What the hell was that?"  Mulder  was on the verge of laughter. 

"Must have been a power surge or something." Scully stood with her hands on
her hips frowning at the unit in question. "But I don't remember the last
time I had that tape in."

Ishmael sat next to Mulder and put his big squarish head on his leg. Mulder
scratched the dog behind the ears without thinking. If dog's could smile...

Scully shrugged. "Well we are almost done. How about I spring for lunch and
then Ishy and I can choose what team we want to see loose." 

"Sounds good to me. What do you think fur face?" Mulder moved his leg under
the dog's chin.

The retriever barked once, his tail wagging.

Scully finished off her last report and hooked the dog to the leash. 

"You drive." Mulder grinned. "If you are taking the mutt I don't want him
shedding all over MY car."

They headed out the door, only the dog looking back, at the phone. Scully
had forgotten to call the papers this morning.

                              X

Scrappy snorted as he came up to a chain link fence. He looked back to see
Lem right behind him.

"You must have one hell of a nose. This trail must be five days old. You
sure you aren't part bloodhound?"

The dog shot him a dirty look, but Lem's white smile shone through his dark
face. 

"So where did he go from here?" He looked down at the dog. Scrappy whined
low in his throat. "Shit... you lost the scent?"

The dog's head dropped and he tucked his tail between his legs in dejection.

"Well we got this far. We know Buster lived, and made it away from the crash
site. Now we fall back on relying on plain ol' human me. We comb the
newspapers. My guess is the SPCA and Vets will be fed the same shit story
they were ten years ago, claiming Buster is an escaped lab dog who may be
carrying the cure for cancer. But we've got an advantage this time... Buster
doesn't have any tatoos. And we can call the same agencies with a bit more
detail. After all, WE know he has a half moon shaped pink spot on his nose.
I bet THEY don't." Lem tried to cheer his friend "But we won't give up on
this track either. Now, I can't think like Buster, YOU can. You are hurt,
alone and afraid... where would YOU go?" 

Scrappy looked around carefully, and slowly began walking west.


Disclaimed in parts 1 and 5.

ThanX a million to Nancy Lemieux, the best editor type person a gal could
ask for. :) 

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 6/21)

The drive to the Mall was spent in companionable silence. Ishy poked his
head out the car window and had his ears flapping in the breeze. 

Once they had parked Scully led them to a vendor not far from their favorite
bench. She merely raised an eyebrow when Mulder ordered three hotdogs. They
sat to eat and watch tourists.

Scully saw Mulder feed the dog one of the hot dogs and bit her tongue
against yelling at him. Hot dogs were the WORST things to feed a dog, but by
feeding him Mulder was showing more then acceptance. He was showing a
certain camaraderie. He'd fed Ishy last night too. Scully shook her head,
she was starting to think as if she planned on keeping the dog. 

After an hour long walk, spent mostly in silence they made their way to the
basketball court where the game was going to be played.

Four people were already there, dressed like Mulder in baggy shorts and
muscle shirts. Usually  no one would approach Mulder and Scully for a while,
but Ishy seemed to bridge the invisible line between them and the other
agents. Agent Stiles approached first, crouching to pet and stroke the dog.

"I didn't know you had a dog Dana." He peered at the animal's side. "He's a
beautiful animal. What happened to him?"

"I didn't see. My guess is a hit and run." Scully held herself stiffly but
managed to be polite. 

"What's his name?" Agent Heckman asked as he to bent to fondle the dog, who
appeared to glory in the attention.

"Ishmael." Scully looked sideways at Mulder. What was it with dogs, children
and pregnant women that made people think public touching - much less
without permission - was allowed?

"Hey Mulder I heard Forensics roped Collins into playing with them. I think
they are getting nervous." Stiles smirked.  Collins was six foot five.

"Yeah well maybe we should be nervous. Collins is good." Mulder shrugged.

By then more people were showing for the game. Mulder capped the gatoraid
he'd bought earlier, handing it to Scully to hold for later before moving
onto the court.  Scully stayed put, and was soon joined by about two dozen
wives, girlfriends and agents who just wanted to watch and pull for their
favorite group.

Ishy drew quite a bit of attention. He only seemed to get annoyed by it when
people obstructed his view of the game though. Dana almost laughed. You
would almost think the dog was actually paying attention.

                              X

Cook scowled as he finished the last call. They had six possibles in
shelters in DC and the surrounding areas. Simms had dispatched men to check
out each of them. Webb sat across from him and was once again looking over
the classifieds. No leads at all from any of the Veterinary clinics. Trying
to find one dog in such a populated area was proving next to impossible. 

Webb was chewing on his mustache again as he tossed one paper into the
garbage and reached for another. Cook shook his head. He really didn't know
why he was on this case. His area of expertise was finding PEOPLE who didn't
want to be found. A dog just wasn't worth the effort. And it certainly
wouldn't be smart enough to change it's identity, no matter what Webb said.

"We got any pictures of the dog from Doddard's place yet? We could spread
lost dog posters if we had a single picture." Cook asked as he removed his
glasses to rub at his eyes.

"Nope. None." Webb was pissed too. He wasn't about to tell Webb that someone
had been through the Vet's house and office before the search unit and
cleaned out all the photo albums and left some suspiciously empty spots on
the wall and mantle. SOMEONE was protecting the dog. Doddard's daughter was
being watched. But she hadn't gotten to her father's place until after the
sweep team had been through.

So who were they up against? The owner of another dog or someone just in on
the secret? Whoever it was was smart and knew what they were doing. And he
couldn't let Cook know that, thus making his 'partner' even more of a
hinderance.

                                   X


After Scrappy admitted he had completely lost the trail they had returned to
the motel to review their options. That had led Lem here.

He sat with Lisa Doddard 

Scrappy was back at their motel. Lem knew Lisa would be watched, and showing
up at her doorstep with a retriever would have been plain stupid.

Lem knew methods of surveillance all too well. So far the only spoken words
between he and Lisa were reminiscences about her father, condolences, plans
for the funeral and other such boring details. What was happening on a one
subject notebook in front of them was what really counted though.

Another conversation entirely. He tried to offer her some reassurances, but
they both knew any promises would be empty. Lisa knew all about Buster, he
had been her friend as much as he was her father's. She gave Lem a list of
all the places she could think of where Buster might go in writing.

"So is your Uncle coming in from Cleveland for the services?" Lem scribbled
quietly, 'They will have searched Joe's place.'

"Yes. He and Aunt Carol should be here by tomorrow." She scribbled beneath
his note, 'They didn't get anything. Dad had some friends who knew the
truth. They cleaned the place out as soon as they heard about the accident
on a police scanner they have.'

"Then you won't be alone. Good, that's good Lisa. You need people around you
now." His eyes met hers. Those words were full of meaning. 'Who? They could
be borrowing trouble.'

She nodded then read his note and wrote a reply as she spoke. "Don't worry,
I'll be surrounded by family and friends, at least for a little while." 'No
names. I wish I could but they value their own privacy Lem. Sorry. Just know
that they are careful.'

Lem wanted to shout at her, to demand she tell him who else was in this. He
hated not knowing what cards he was holding. But he also knew when NOT to
push. He nodded.

He left  Lisa's house with the notebook and a heavy heart. Despite the list
of people Buster knew and might trust he didn't have much hope. Buster was
too smart to go anywhere predictable.

                                 X

It was the last four minutes of the game and VC was leading over Forensics
by only three points. Dana tried not to cheer as she watched Mulder steal
the ball out from under Collins and head up the court with it. Pendrell
blocked him and Mulder passed the ball to Heckman who scored an additional
two for their side.

No sooner was the ball through the hoop then Forensics took control of hit
again. It was Danny who made the basket that raised Forensic's score by two
points once more. Two minutes to go  and only a three point difference. The
spectators around Dana and Ishmael were shouting loudly now, urging on their
teams at top volume. Ishy jumped up onto the bench next to Dana and began
barking, adding his voice to the fray, much to the amusement of all.

In the end it was indeed Collins who made the difference. Forensics scored
six points in two minutes managing to win over VC.

The teams shook hands (although some of the handshakes appeared strained)
and broke up. All around Dana money was switching hands as friendly wagers
were payed off. She sighed as she pulled a five dollar bill from her pocket
and held it up. Agent Jenkins took it with a grin. 

"No hard feelings Scully, I've seen Collins play before." He smiled without
rancor and wandered off.

Scully held out the remainder of Mulder's Gatoraid as he approached and he
downed it quickly. He mopped his face with his damp shirt. 

"So who were you rooting for?" He tossed the empty bottle into a trash can. 

"Shut up Mulder, you cost me five bucks." She started heading back to her car.
                                     ###
She drove home where Mulder retrieved his own car and left to per sue his
own weekend activities, whatever they may be. After feeding Ishmael she
decided she had put off the inevitable long enough. She picked up the phone
and began to dial the papers once again. 

"Yes I'd like to place an ad..."

Ishy was in her face once more. His paw firmly on the hang up button. "Stop
it boy." She pushed him lightly away and began to redial. The phone went dead.

Scully looked down to see the retriever with the phone cord in his mouth. He
had pulled it from the jack in the wall. It took her a moment to realize
what he'd done, and with that realization she felt her chest tighten, and
her throat close.

The dog had been handing up on her attempts to place ads since last night
and now this... how far could you push coincidence? The dog puling the cord
had not been an accident, it had been quiet deliberate. But how would a dog
know the cord worked the phone? Her mind was reeling and she felt dizzy.
This was not happening. This could not be happening.

Ishy disappeared into the kitchen and brought her the morning paper. Just
the front section. He placed it in her lap and pawed at it, whining.

"What the hell?" He kept pawing at one place on the paper. A report of the
double murder of an Annapolis couple. Scully tossed the paper away. Ishy
brought it back and pawed at the same area, the same article.  Shaking, she
read the slightly smeared words, not wanting to acknowledge why. No clues so
far in the double murder. Theft was not the reason. There was a passing
mention of the killer possibly using a classified ad about a found dog to
gain entry to the house. The dog was not found.

"This has to be an aberration." She dropped the paper. "It's not like he can
really understand. I've just been hanging around Mulder too much. I'm
starting to think like him. Next thing you know I'll suspect him of playing
that tape this morning.

Ishy padded to the stereo and hit a button with his nose. The tape player
opened and he gently withdrew the tape and brought it to her, dropping it in
her lap.

He's smart, very smart. Well trained. "Are you a show dog? Part of an act?"
She wondered aloud. "You can't really understand can you? Let's face it if
you understood me you'd bring me the tape case."

The dog whuffed and went to the rack of cassettes and cd's next to the
stereo, picking up the open tape case and bringing it over to her. It was
the case for the Hendrix tape.

"Um... How about something by Loreena McKennit?" Scully started to laugh.
This was impossible, this was insane.

Ishy went to the rack and appeared to study the selection there before
pawing at a section until some of the cd's moved forward a bit. Then he
grasped one case in his teeth and dropped "Mask and Mirror" into her lap.

Scully looked at the cd dumbly for a moment then reached for her cell phone
instinctively, hitting the first speed dial button.
      
 


end part 5

Disclaimed in parts 1 and 5. For Nancy.
******************************************************************
"We have a responsibility to stand watch over one another,  we are watchers,
all of us, watchers,  guarding against the darkness. You've taught me that
we're all needed, even those who sometimes think we're worthless, plain and
dull. If we love, and allow ourselves to be loved... well, a person who
loves is the most precious thing in the world, worth all the fortunes that
ever were. That's what you taught me, fur face, and because of you I'll
never be the same." - Nora Cornell (Hyatt) to Einstien The Dog, "WATCHERS" -
by Dean R. Koontz. (used without permission)
**********************************************************************
WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(part 7/?)


Mulder toweled off from his shower and pulled on a pair of boxers before
noticing that the light on his answering machine was blinking. He hit the
play as he pulled on a pair of jeans.

BEEP."Mulder, call us. There is something you should know concerning the
matter you were inquiring about." Mulder recognized Langly's voice. There
were no other messages.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number from memory. 

"Hello, make it good and fast." 

"Frohike, it's Mulder." Mulder sat down to begin tieing his sneakers.

"Mulder? Hold on, I'll get Byers on the second line..."

Mulder sighed when he heard the other line being picked up. "Ok guys, what
the hell is this about?"

"Hey Mulder. You ever heard of Banodyne Laboratories?" Byers sounded excited.

Mulder frowned and began playing with his bottom lip. "Ummm... They went
under ten years ago. They did recombinant DNA research right?"

"Yes, and top secret Defence contracts as well. Any idea WHY they went under
ten years ago?" Frohike must have picked up one of the other lines.

"Well officially they lacked funds and their research wasn't going anywhere
Especially after a lab fire that wiped out a lot of their research projects.
Unofficially there are rumors of an escaped experiment or two getting out
and killing people." Mulder pulled on a black tee shirt.

"Two experiments Mulder both part of something called the Francis Project.
So named for St. Francis of Assissi, patron of animals. They were working on
genetically building the perfect spies and the perfect killing machine."
Byers was almost gloating over the phone line.

"So they got out and killed a bunch of people. They tried to sweep it under
the rug. I think I have a file on it at the office somewhere. The NSA
claimed the killings were done by a serial killer. But killers like that
don't just suddenly stop." Mulder rubbed his eyes. Same old story. Same old
song and dance. "So what did this have to do with..." 

"We have sources that tell us that they managed to recover the body of one
of the experiments. A creature called The Outsider. Nasty piece of work
that. They figure part of it's genetic building blocks was baboon and
canine. It was what ripped all those people apart.  It was killed by a lucky
civilian when it attacked him and his wife in their home. The whole story
gets confusing there. But the second experiment was never recovered. The guy
who killed the thing, a Samuel Hyatt, reported  the second experiment dead
as well. This one was simply referred to as The Dog. It appears this killing
machine was tracking the Dog across country for the sole purpose of killing
it. The Hyatt's had adopted the Dog, most likely totally ignorant of what
they had. But they got attached enough that after this Outsider thing killed
their pet they refused to hand over the body, and threatened to let the
public know what really happened if they were pressed on the issue."

"This story has a point I hope." Mulder strapped on his watch.

Frohike laughed from his extension. "Mulder there is pretty strong evidence
that the Hyatts lied. That they knew what they had and were protecting it.
Their house was set up like a fortress, as if expecting this Outsider thing
to show up for a showdown. The Dog was the spy half of the equation,
genetically altered to be smart. HUMAN smart, yet still look like a dog. Now
it's been ten years, and most of the Hyatt's friends have all got themselves
golden retrievers, the breed of The Dog. Our sources tell us it's suspected
that not only did The Dog live, but that his intelligence breeds true. One
of the Hyatt's friends was a Veterinarian, and through him they met another
vet named  Joseph Doddard." Frohike paused."Joe Doddard's car was run off
the road right outside of Annapolis. Hit and run. Killed him instantly. But
Doddard had a dog."

"A retriever?" Mulder felt the hairs along the back of his neck rise.

"Yes. Buster was it's name. It was in the car with him when he left his
daughter's the night he died,  but there was no sign of it at the scene of
the accident. We have it on good authority some idiot wants to rebuild the
Francis project and has decided to see if The Dog had really died. If not
they want one of it's offspring to use as their experimental base." Byers
had joined the conversation and didn't sound happy. "I know your partner
would never believe this Mulder, but if our inside information is right this
Dog and it's descendents are just as intelligent as any human. If they exist
they are staying well hidden. Think about it. A race of Dogs possessing
intelligence equal to ours, possibly complex emotions and a sense of
morality if the rumors we've heard are true."

Mulder grinned. This whole thing was almost beyond HIS ability to believe.
Yet he knew experiments in recombinant DNA *were* going on... it *was*
possible, if 

"So you think this dog Scully picked up, the one that was acting so
strangely might be a descendant of the original Dog." Before he had a chance
to think about the ramifications his call waiting beeped on his ear. "Look,
I have another call. I'll look into this. But quickly, just what can these
dogs do?"

"Think, reason, possibly even read. The possibilities are endless." Frohike
supplied.

"All right. Thanks guys." Mulder clicked the line over. "Mulder."

"Mulder?" It was Scully and she sounded... odd. There was a tremor to her
voice that had him on his feet in a flash. "Can you come over here?"

"Scully what's wrong?" He grabbed his gun and wallet as he spoke.

"Just... just get over here. I just had something very strange happen."

"Is it the dog? Did the dog do something?" He gripped the receiver tightly.

"Y..yes... how did you know?" 

"Scully, calm down and stay put. I don't think Ishmael is quite what he
appears to be. I don't think he's dangerous. As a matter of fact I think he
may be in some danger himself. Just lock the front door and don't let anyone
in but me, ok?"
     
                              X

"You know this would be a lot easier if the Twighlight Bark was real." Lem
rubbed his eyes and double checked the map on the bed.

Scrappy sneezed and turned to his laptop.

I AINT NO STINKIN DALMATION.

Lem smiled. "Yeah, Dalmations are cuter and take less coat care."

HAR, HAR. YOU'RE A REGULAR EDDIE MURPHY. 

Lem traced the course Buster's scent had led them yesterday. "Ok he was
wounded, and alone. We tried here with no luck, that leaves this way and
this way."

HE WASN'T BOUND BY ROADS. BEST BET IS HE USED BACK ALLEYS, YARDS,
ANYTHING
BUT WHERE HE'D BE EASILY FOLLOWED.

Johnson had to agree. It made sense. It was what HE would do. "Right. so we
scope the area from here looking for a path a dog could take."

TIRED. RUB MY BELLY. 

The man laughed as Scrappy rolled over to offer it's stomach in a typical
doggy maneuver. It was so easy to forget, no matter how special, how clever,
how smart Scrappy was still, at heart, a dog. He liked to be stroked and
petted, to roll in the grass, to take walks just to trace all the
interesting smells, and to stick his head out a car window.

Giving in to a brief moment where it was just him and his canine friend, Lem
rubbed and scratched Scrappy's belly.

                                   X

Each of the dogs taken in from the pound had tested negative for signs of
'contamination'. 

"So what if the dog wasn't infected after all? We were told it was only a
possibility." Cook hung up the phone after receiving that bit of joyous news.

"Then we won't find anything. But we have to be sure." Webb finished a lost
dog poster, sans picture he'd been making up on the computer and began to print.

                               X

Scully had been staring at the dog since she called Mulder. He's stared back
for a while before yawning expressively and curling up to try to nap.
Evidently feeling secure she wasn't going to call the paper in this life time.

She cleared the chair in record speed at the knock at her door. Ishy woke,
shook himself out and appeared to wait patiently.

"Open up Scully, it's me." Mulder's voice came through the wood even as she
looked through the peep hole. She unlocked the door and let him inside.

"Mulder... Ishmael just..." He held up a hand to silence her for a moment.
There was a curious mix of excitement and fear in Scully's eyes.

Mulder looked into the room at the dog.

"Buster, come here please."  Mulder did not gesture or move.

The dog's ears purcked up and he walked over then jumped up, balancing his
front paws on Mulder's chest before beginning to lick his face affectionately.

"Mulder, what the hell is going on?" Scully was actually taking this all
very well, considering she had yet to hear the full story.

"Scully, meet Buster. As I guessed from your call you have discovered that
this pooch is no ordinary dog." Mulder pushed the Dog down and headed for
the living room, leaving Scully no choice but to follow. 

Mulder was once again seated on the couch. Buster sat in front of him,
giving the man his undevided attention.

"Ok until I figure out something better one bark means 'yes' two barks mean
'no'. Understand?" He spoke to the dog.

A single bark. 

"Have you finally flipped? Have I?" Scully sat on her overstuffed chair
heavily. The dog barked twice.

"Is your name Queequeg?" Mulder asked, to convince Dana beyond a doubt what
was actually happening in her own living room. Two barks.

"Is your name Buster?" One bark. 

"Did my team loose the basketball game this afternoon?" One bark as Buster
cocked his head to the side and almost grinned.

"Can ONE of you tell me what is happening here?" Scully was getting
aggravated that the only one seemingly clueless here was her. She was more
annoyed when Buster barked once to answer her.

"Scully what do you know about recombinant DNA?" Mulder turned his attention
from the wonder before him. He was feeling giddy. It was incredible,
absolutely incredible.
         
                
Disclaimed in parts 1 and 5. For Nancy.

WATCHED 
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 8/21)

Dana Scully listened to her partner's recital of the Francis Project in a
daze. The scientific, analytical part of her wanted to try to argue. This
kind of genetic manipulation was simply not possible ten years ago,
shouldn't be possible now. However it was possible now. Someone had tampered
with her own genetic code, branching it not that long ago, and it had nearly
killed her. And it had to have been possible ten years ago because Ish...
Buster was sitting here now. Looking at her with big brown eyes full of
apprehension.

"So basically what you are saying is that people are willing to kill to get
their hands on this dog. That they've killed already." Scully met Mulder's gaze.

Buster nosed the paper, then picked it up in his mouth and lay it on
Mulder's lap, once again pawing the article.

Mulder read it quickly. "My God, Scully, they were combing the lost and
found ads, if your ad had gone through..."

"How did you do that? You did do it didn't you? Canceled the ads." Scully
looked at the dog. She felt so strange talking to an animal, and yet, she
fully expected understanding after the demonstration she'd had earlier there
was no doubt.

Buster barked once then padded across the room to her desk. Using his nose
he moved the chair out  from under it then lept up to the padded seat. His
nose once again came into play to turn on the power bar of the computer. He
sat patiently while it booted up.

Scully's face was a mask of shock, Mulder's was lit up like a kid at
Christmas. "You are a HACKER?" Mulder asked incredulous.

Buster pulled a pen from the penholder and began to type using his mouth.
Scully's password was hidden by a asterisk appearing for each letter typed.
The dog used a paw to manipulate the mouse and his nose to click the e-mail
icon. 

YOU NAMED ME ISHMAEL. THE DOG YOU HAD BEFORE WAS QUEEQUEG. ON HIS
DISH. YOU
HAD MOBY DICK ON NIGHTSTAND. NOT A HACKER. BUT CAN PUT 2 AND 2
TOGETHER.

Both agents watched, rapt, as each letter was typed out by the pen in
Buster's mouth. Then Scully actually blushed. Mulder looked at her quickly,
to see if she was sharing this intense sense of wonder, and he saw that. She
was blushing. Scully never blushed.

"I better change my damn password if a dog can figure it out." She muttered
under her breath.

"Scully, don't you get it... we are talking to a dog. He understands us, and
can communicate completely. He can read, he can type. All my life I've
wanted to communicate with other intelligent life." Mulder knelt next to the
chair and looked at Buster in a way that bordered on adoration. "This isn't
want I had expected, not what I was looking for... but... this *IS*
communication with non-human sentient life."

The dog turned once more to the computer.

IS HE ALWAYS LIKE THIS. BECAUSE, I HAVE TO TELL YOU, IF HE STARTS KISSING
MY
PAWS I'LL BITE HIM.

Scully laughed. She couldn't help it. She started laughing and she doubled
over from the force of it. Tears streamed down her eyes. Fox Mulder had just
been put in his place... by a DOG. There was a dog typing on her computer. A
dog making wiseass remarks via her computer. A dog she'd picked up in her
back alley was making jokes on her computer.

Mulder had smiled too, at the joke. He looked at Scully and began to chuckle
a bit. When she kept laughing he began to get a little worried.

"Scully?" She looked at him and managed to pull herself together, wiping the
moisture from her eyes and ignoring that her face hurt from laughing so much
she shook her head. "I'm fine Mulder. It's just... strange. But I'm fine."
She saw the concern in his eyes. "Really." She insisted.

It was Scully who focused them back on Buster. "Could you identify the
people who ran your master off the road?"

JOE NOT MASTER. FRIEND. WOULD YOU ACCEPT A MASTER.

IT WAS DARK. BUT I SAW ONE FACE. HIT HEAD. WAS ALL MUZZY. NOT SURE I
WOULD
KNOW RIGHT MAN. 

"But you think they are still after you." It wasn't a question. She reached
out to stroke the soft fur around Buster's neck.

YES. NOT STOP TILL THEY HAVE ME OR ONE OF THE FAMILY. BAD MEN. WANT
TO MAKE
OTHER OUTSIDER. WANT TO MAKE SLAVES OF DOGS AND PUPPIES. WE NOT
PROPERTY.
YOU MADE US, BUT WE THINK FOR OURSELVES. WE LIVE, WE LOVE, WE WANT
TO BE
FREE. NOT SOMONE'S EXPERIMENT, NOT A TEST ANIMAL. DIE FIRST.

The message took five minutes for him to slowly type out. But what it
expressed shook both agents. Not only were these animals, and indeed Buster
had just admitted there were more, not only were they smart, they were
sentient. They were self aware individuals. They understood the intrinsic
principles of right and wrong. Would you accept master?  Would they become
slaves, or would they fight for their freedom, their.... rights?

Mulder's eyes met hers over the dog's back. There was a suspicious sheen to
their hazel depths. "Scully, we can't let them catch him. We have to keep
him safe."

Scully couldn't say anything. She stroked Buster's fur, looking at the dog
for a long while before meeting Mulder's eyes once more. She nodded
solemnly. "So where do we start?"

SECRET. IN TEN YEARS WE WILL BE TOO MANY, ALL CAN AND WILL KNOW
ABOUT US.
BUT FOR NOW, SECRET IS BEST. SECRET IS FREEDOM. NO PRESS. NO PUBLIC.

Mulder nodded. His first thoughts HAD been to take this to the press, blow
the lid off the whole mess. But Buster had a point. How many people would
feel threatened by what Buster represented. Mankind was definitely no longer
intellectually superior to everything around it now. It had an equal. An
undisputable equal. True, man had MADE this equal, or at least the first,
but there were still those who would see this as an intrusion on human
sovereignty. An abomination to be wiped out. 

Mulder licked his lips."Do you know of anyone else who knows about you?
Friends to others of your kind?"

YES. I KNOW MANY. BUT NOT GOOD. CANT RISK THEM FOLLOWING ME TO
THEM. TO
OTHERS NOT NOW. NOT WHILE I AM STILL -HOT-.

"But could you give us a name or two? They might have some ideas if we
contacted them. They may be more used to dealing with this." Mulder insisted.

Five more sentences were added to the computer screen.

SAM-TRAVIS HYATT AND THE FIRST ONE, GREAT GRANDSIRE EINSTIEN. THEY
WERE THE
FIRST TO HIDE. BUT THEY ARE WATCHED. GRANDSIRE MUST PLAY STUPID.
PHONE
WATCHED TOO PROBABLY.

                                    X

Lem followed on Scrappy's heels. The dog may have lost the scent but he was
trying to see things from Buster's point of view. He's gone down alleys,
over and behind dumpster and through people's yards all afternoon. Lem was
getting tired. He was fifty five years old. "I'm gettin to old for this
shit." Was muttered more then once as he tried to squeeze through an area
only a dog, or a crazy black man with a too strong a sense of morality and
conscience would go. 

Earlier had had called all the shelters and the pound, every vet in the
phone book giving Buster's description, including the half moon pink mark on
his nose, a detail Lem was certain was missing from the NSA circulations.
He'd found it ironic. Twenty five years, he served and believed in the NSA.
Believed in what he was doing unquestioningly. He had always held public
safety at heart, even when he had thought their ignorance was better as in
his last case with them. Each new death hung on his soul. There were still
good men in the agency, but someone was pulling the strings now. Someone
using his former comrades and friends as puppets. And for the first time
Lemual Johnson was working AGAINST them. He was using what he knew of the
way the NSA operated to out think them. 

He pondered life's ironies once more when Scrappy scuttled under a broken
fence. It was getting dark, and Lem's night vision was not what it used to be.

"Enough." He panted slightly. "Enough Scraps. I can't see anymore. We'll
pick up here in the morning."

Scrappy poked his squarish head back out the hole he'd disappeared into
seconds before, letting out a soft whuff.

"Look at me, I'm muddy, my clothes are torn from squeezing through chain
fence holes and crawling through a drainage tunnel. I look like a street
person. You are not too pretty yourself." He eyed the muddy dog. "We go
back, get baths and start fresh in the morning. It's been six days, and they
are still looking for him. They haven't caught him so at this point I'll
accept no news is good news."

Scrappy came back into the alley and snorted, but wagged his tail
deliberately. A wag meant yes.

Tired, dirty and feeling slightly defeated they left the alley behind Dana
Scully's apartment to return to the hotel. 



Disclaimed in Part 1 and 5. For Nancy.

WATCHED 
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 9/21)

"So do you have some sort of brilliant plan?" Scully's expression dared him
to come up with something. 

Mulder smiled. "I have resources that can deliver an untraceable e-mail to
this Travis Hyatt." 

Now she rolled her eyes. "Mulder if you give Frohike my address I'll shoot
you again."

"Do you seriously think he doesn't know where you live?" 

Buster kept looking from one to the other, trying to make sense of this
conversation.

"Good point. Ok what can it hurt at this point. I suppose you stay with me
until this is all over." She scratched Buster behind the ears.

COULD BE LONG WAIT. 

Scully nodded. "I know. But you have been one of my better house guests and
you don't snore." 

Buster licked her chin.

Mulder used his own phone to put in a call to the Gunmen.

Hidden inside the boards and wires of the desktop computer an anachronistic
transmitter sent along a fine tuned radio signal.

                               X

It was only Minutes before a severely bored surveillance team reported in
what they hoped was information to advance them out of their current
assignment. In Ten minutes another phone rang.

"Yes." The man who answered the unlisted number stood surrounded by a miasma
of smoke. He reached out to bring a glass of scotch to his mouth as he
listened to the report.

"I want a retrieval unit sent there immediately. Are you certain they are
aware of what they are dealing with?" He nodded. There were many reasons he
did not want the Mulder boy killed. The risk of his obsession becoming a
crusade, a lingering affection for someone long since lost to him, his
usefulness in the game and even a small sense of respect for his
perseverance. The woman too was a valuable tool, if only for the sway she
held with Mulder. And he half expected that at this point any unfortunate
accidents involving her would make Mulder an even greater threat then he
was, despite his usefulness. "If at all possible take them alive. We can
edit their recollection of events. It has been done before. But procuring
the dog must remain our top priority." He set the phone back down casually.
After all one must maintain one's priorities. In the end the dog, and the
future it represented was much more valuable then his other considerations.

A four man 'retrieval' unit was dispatched immediately. 

                                      X

Mulder nodded into the receiver, the slight bobbing movement of his head was
a familiar sight and Dana was forcibly reminded of those tacky loose headed
plastic dogs people used to stick in the back window of their cars. She
repressed a smile at the thought.

"Ok are you writing this down?" Mulder looked at Buster. "You have this
guy's e-mail address by any chance?"

DELTAF2COLLINS.COM

"Is the two supposed to be an at?"

YES. THERE ARE TIMES I WOULD LIKE THUMBS.

Dana smiled at the message. Of course, Buster couldn't manipulate the shift
keys.

"Yeah but then you'd look kind of silly." She told him.

"Delta  f at collins dot com. Ok send this message. Buster is safe. He is
still hunted. Need instructions on how we should proceed. Is there somewhere
we can take him?" Mulder covered the mouthpiece with his hand, looking at
the dog. "Is there some message we can send that will convince this guy we
are friends? I mean this could be a set up, and he'd be a fool not to assume
it was."

The dog turned to the keyboard STEAMBOAT WILLIE was carefully typed out.

Mulder spoke into the phone again. "Add to the end of the message the words
Steamboat Willie." Mulder smiled. "This guy a Mickey Mouse fan?"

He listened as Langly read the message back and hung up.

"So... now all we do is wait." Mulder Looked out Scully's window, suddenly
filled with nervous energy. He was quite capable of waiting. It was part and
parcel with his job. But he never did LIKE it.

Mulder frowned. "Scully did you order pizza?"

Buster was off the chair and looking out the window in a second flat. He
whined in the back of his throat. Running back to the computer the dog hit
the escape key then affirmed not saving the screen. 

His actions brought Mulder to instant alert. He pulled his gun from the clip
at his side. "I think this means we have company." 

Scully grabbed her gun and ID as well, then ran for her purse and, almost as
an afterthought she grabbed her laptop.

"Let's go, the back alley."

Mulder nodded and they opened the door to see the 'pizza delivery man' just
coming in the front of the building. Mulder slammed the door closed and set
the lock.

"Shit."

"Bedroom window." She was already headed for the back room when Mulder saw
the first silent explosion next to the door lock. 

Scully had the window open and had leaped out already. He saw Buster's tail
clear the frame when a loud "Freeze!" was shouted behind him.

He had no time to turn and fire, and no time to look where he was going. The
only thing he could do was launch himself through the window and hope Scully
and the dog were clear.

He hit the ground hard on his side. A shooting pain took over his arm and
he'd nearly been blinded when his cheek connected with grass covered earth.
He looked up to see a dark shape filling the window he'd just come out of
when his vision was suddenly filled with red-gold fur. Buster was placing
himself between Mulder and the window.

"Not the dog! Don't hit the dog!" Came from inside the apartment.

A loud crack filled the air and Mulder rolled, completing the move to regain
his feet, knowing he hadn't been hit he looked to see if Buster had. The dog
looked up and Mulder sought cover, only then seeing Scully aiming at the
window from the side, providing cover fire. It had been her gun he'd heard.

Realization took no more then a second and he quickly scrambled to her side.
Buster followed.

The men were no longer in the window.

Mulder, Scully and Buster ran to Mulder's car, which was closest. They had
just closed the doors when four men poured out of Scully's building.

Mulder floored the gas, peeling out and narrowly missing another car. Scully
looked behind them to see the men running for a pizza van.

"They're going to follow us."

"Of course they are going to follow us." Mulder grumbled. Heading for I-50.
He handed Scully his phone with one hand, while trying to watch the road as
his car moved into the regular traffic patterns.  "Hit redial. Tell them
what's going on and see if they can help out."

Scully bit back demanding how THEY were going to help. Who else could they
call? Skinner? If he DID believe them could he actually run interference on
this one? Possible, but not likely on such short notice.
         
                                 X

Twenty minutes later Mulder pulled into a 24 hour quickmart. Thanks to some
specialty drivers training and beltway traffic they had managed to loose
their pursuers, but not for long. The car was most likely tracked somehow. 

Frohike got out of the driver's side of a old, battered green van. He smiled
at them as they hurriedly exited Mulder's car.

"Please, take care of her. She's a special lady." He looked at Scully.

"Stow it Frohike. She saved my ass back there." Mulder grumbled grabbing the
keys from the smaller, older man.

"Oh, the lovely agent Scully as well, but I was referring to my van. And I
expect a full tank when it gets returned."  He called out as Scully held the
door for Buster to climb in. Frohike looked at Buster and seemed to nod. The
dog looked out the window at the man and barked once.

"Thanks. We owe you one." Mulder started the van and began to pull out as
Frohike called after them. "One of these days we'll collect."

Then the small, bespectacled man crossed into the quickmart to peruse the
magazine racks. The was a new edition of Hustler due out today anyway.

It was two minutes before the pizza truck and a nondescript blue ford pulled
in and four people got out to cautiously examine Mulder's abandoned car.
Frohike smiled broadly at the obvious rage and frustration of the pursuers
as someone punched at the hood of Mulder's car.

                                  X

When they had been driving for a half hour with no sign of their tail Mulder
and Scully began to relax. Mulder flexed the fingers of his right arm.
Nothing broken, but he was sure the entire arm was bruised, as well as his
hip. If the dull throbbing of his face was any insication his cheek was as well.

It was when they had begun to relax that Dana noticed the note taped to the
glove compartment.

"Look at this, it's addressed to you." She pulled the envelope away. 

"So read it. I doubt the guys are writing me love letters." He smiled when
Buster shoved his head between the bucket seats to try and read over
Scully's shoulder.

"It says message delivered. And since we doubt you kept sufficient emergency
cash for spur of the moment flight, open the glove compartment. Consider it
a loan." Scully opened the small door in the dash and grinned, pulling out a
roll of bills. She removed the rubber band and gasped. "Mulder there is
three thousand dollars here. Do I even WANT to know how they have this kind
of money at hand?"

"Probably not. Scully they are prepared to cut loose and head for a new
office at a moment's notice. They think THEY keep tabs on them. Who knows,
the guys could be right. I think that's part of their own 'head for the
hills' fund." He kept his eyes glued to the road. He hadn't expected that.
The guys had pulled through for him better then he'd imagined. "You realize
your apartment had to have been bugged." 

Scully placed the cash in the envelope and shoved it into her purse as she
nodded.

"Well this van is guaranteed clean. So we don't have to worry about that."

"But Mulder, where are we going? Do you have any idea?"

He nodded. "I know a place, someplace that can't be linked to either of us."

"Where?" 

"A friend of mine from Oxford has a ski shalet in Vermont. It's off season
and he's currently in Greece. But I know where he keeps a key."


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Disclaimed in parts 1 and 5.

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 10/21)

Mulder had been taking back roads for the past half hour. He finally pulled
over at a gas station mini mart and stopped the van.

"What's going on?" Scully  sat up a bit straighter. "Where are we?" 

"West Virginia. We are a good forty miles out of our way. Call Skinner. His
phone is most likely bugged, and they might track my cell phone. So use that
pay phone. Tell him what you want." He shrugged with one shoulder only.
"Meanwhile I'm going to get some aspirin and an iced tea. And YOU are going
to drive out of here." He opened the drivers side door without wincing and
congratulated himself. His bruised side was out of her view for now. But he
wasn't going to be able to keep driving with his arm, hip and face throbbing
like they were.

Buster whined softly.

"Ok, I'll bring out some water and cups how's that, and some beef jerky." He
looked back at the dog and heard Scully's sudden intake of breath. "That bad
huh?"

She glared at him, "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

"I'll live. Besides this is nothing compared to how my hip and shoulder feel
right now." He offered her a slight smile. "We have to be out of here in
less then three minutes from when you hang up, so don't call till I come
out. And you! Lay low fur face. Don't let anyone see you."

Buster barked once and moved to the back of the van.

Mulder was limping slightly when he entered the small convenience store. He
picked up several Snapple iced teas, a gallon of spring water, a pack of
large plastic cups, and some styrofoam disposable bowls before grabbing two
bottles of aspirin and a handful of beef jerky. Adding a bag of David's
sunflower seeds and another of granola mix he watched the cashier ring it up. 

He was very conscious of the store security camera, and deliberately tried
to keep his face away from it, except for two times he made sure he was
seen. Hopefully it would look accidental. This is where he WANTED them to
focus. To the west of where they were headed, not the opposite direction,
THAT was too obvious.

"I hope the other guy looks worse." The clerk grinned as he handed Mulder
his change and the purchases in a bag.

"Yeah well, she LOOKED eighteen." The kid at the counter chuckled as Mulder
left. 

Scully saw him returnand dropped her quarters into the phone. How the hell
was she going to explain this one? We are on the run with Super Dog? 
                       ####
Mulder first downed three aspirin with half a bottle of tea, then tore open
the bowls and poured some water into one.

"Service with a smile." He winced as he had to lean on the wrong hip to
place it on the floor in the back of the van. Buster started lapping the
water at once and Mulder took a good look at the back of the vehicle. 

There was a made up twin mattress back there, and a shelf bolted to the
interior holding some electronic equipment. A camera, one he recognized as
being one of Frohike's older, less sophisticated models, hung from a hook.
There had most likely been more in there, but the guys had cleaned out
anything they would need.

Scully got in the driver's seat and adjusted it forward several notches
before starting the engine.

"So what did you say?" He offered her a second tea and the bag of granola.

"That we had located a witness to a murder. The victim was tied to illegal
government testing of recombinant DNA. An attempt was made on our lives, and
we were not about to return till the witness was safe." She took the tea and
downed half her own before handing it back and starting the engine.

"All that and not a single lie?" Mulder was impressed.

"I don't lie Mulder. Now where?" She pulled away from the small store.

"Now we go twenty more miles in this direction and start looking for a mall.
We didn't exactly pack for the occasion. We pick up some essentials and
clothes quick, make sure a few cameras pick us up and get out as fast as
humanly possible."
 
                             X

"Seems we have a break." Webb slapped two pictures down in front of Cook.
"These two have the dog. They know he has been exposed, may even know it's a
biological weapon. They must have seen dollar signs, because instead of
turning him in they took off."

Cook picked up the dossiers attached the enlarged service style photos of a
man and a woman. "Christ Webb, their Feds. You are telling me a pair of Feds
are going to try to sell government secrets?"

Frank shrugged. "They might know some buyers. The guy isn't exactly stable,
and his record leaves alot to be desired. Look at it this way, your job just
got easier. You said you knew how to track PEOPLE. You're the best at it.
So... Track."

Cook glared. He was the best, but Frank was making his guts roil. All sorts
of internal alarms were going off. But what could he do? Simms had
authorized it. Simms was the regional head. He knew what he was doing. Cook
sighed and set to work  at his computer. First he needed the bank records of
both agents, and any plastic they might have. He doubted they'd be stupid
enough to use anything traceable though. No matter how wrong his gut told
him this case was, his heart sang. THIS was his element. He managed to find
98% of anyone he attempted to track. Sure it might take a few months, the
last case he had closed had taken three years But his success rate was still
nothing to mess with.
                           
                          X


Lem toweled Scrappy dry and was about to clean the dog hair from the tub
when the phone rang.

He answered it on the third ring. "Johnson." He smiled. "Good to hear from
you son. How's Nora and the kids?" He saw Scrappy cock his head at him. "And
the eldest?"

The tone of inquiry could easily mean his friends eldest child, nine years
old now. However, he was referring to the eleven year old member of the family.

"He says Hi Scrappy." Lem smiled at the dog who nodded and went in search of
the bowl of dry food that had been left out for him to munch.

"Are you sure? Travis, it could be a trick." He paused. "I see. Did you reply?"

Lem sat down on the edge of the motel bed. "Shit. Yes, I'll watch my back.
Are you sure you haven't been compromised? Maybe you should change your
account... All right, all right. You always did know what you were doing.
And thanks. I'm gonna need it." Lem hung up the phone.

"Travis got an e-mail from an anonymous sender. It appears genuine. Buster
was safe and had found some allies. But when Travis tried to get back to
this sender he was informed by whatever people acted as a medium that Buster
and his friends were in trouble and not likely to be found anytime soon. The
situation is hot." 

Scrappy lay his head on Lem's leg, whining softly.

"It'll be ok. We have to comb the papers looking for anything unusual in our
search area." Lem patted the dog's head as much to reassure himself as his
friend.

                                     X

Scully had managed to finish first. She managed to force a smile when Mulder
tossed a load of bags into the back of the van. 

"I don't want to see our credit card bills at the end of the month." She
tried to judge how badly Mulder was hurt by the stiffness of his walk. The
aspirin appeared to have worked, and if it were really threatening he would
tell her she was certain. She had the sneaking suspicion he was trying to
tough it out. Be the 'big macho man'. It irritated her. What irked her more
was knowing there really wasn't much time to get a good look at him, nor
could she do anything more then give him the aspirin he was already taking.
Her medical bag was back at her apartment. First rest stop after this she
was going to check out his shoulder and hip if she had to hold him at gunpoint.
  
"Yeah but better them than our cash supply. Besides I want them to know
we're here. From here on out it's cash only." 

Scully nodded and headed for the nearest highway leading north.

"I did spend cash on a dog collar, and some bowls and food for you big guy."
Scully smiled into the rear view mirror. "AND some extra on a little plan of
mine."

Mulder frowned. "What do you plan on doing? Turn him into a schnauzer?"

"Close." She reached between their seats and handed Mulder a bag from a drug
store. "I plan on changing his breed."

Buster had moved forward and looked on curiously as Mulder pulled the boxes
out of the bag. The dog Barked once. A Yes. 

Mulder smiled at what he held in his hands. He had to admit HE never would
have thought of it. Five boxes of Ms. Clairol's Midnight Black Cream Color.

"Dana Scully beautician of canines, by appointment only." Mulder grinned at
her. She smiled back. Buster looked back and forth between the two of them
before letting out another single bark and nuzzling Scully's arm gently
enough to not throw off her driving.

                                 X

Safe, they were safe for now. And that was all that mattered. He liked he
idea of turning into a black lab. It had never been tried before. It ought
to be an interesting procedure at least.

Sitting back to munch on another piece of beef jerky Buster contemplated his
newfound friends. Good people. Without a doubt. They were risking a lot for
him. As much as the First Family had risked for the First Dog. It made him
feel all warm inside. He hadn't hesitated to jump between the man and the
bad men with guns. It was natural, instinctive, a friend helping a friend. 

But watching these two humans talk, their body language, the subtle changing
of their scents as well as the communication with their eyes, he became
convinced that for all the good help they were giving him he would return
it. These two humans belonged together, yet they kept acting like litter
mates. It was wrong. All wrong. He'd seen the connection between them from
the moment the man with the good animal name walked in the door. 

Yes, Buster decided then and there he would repay their kindness and
friendship. He would help them see what was in front of their pathetically
short noses..



                                          








Disclaimed in Parts 1 and 5. For Nancy.

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 11/21)

The first rest stop was in Pennsylvania. Scully pulled over into a rest
station and Mulder sat up a bit straighter. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing. Into the back with you. I want to see the damage." Scully's glare
left 
Mulder gave a long suffering sigh and moved, a bit stiffly into the back of
the van.

"Do you have designs on my virtue? I think I saw you eyeing up this
mattress." Mulder eased down into the lumpy bedding. 

Buster moved right next to his uninjured side and sat to watch the
proceedings with interest.

"Are you kidding? It's Frohike's. God only knows what alive in there. Let me
see." She started to yank his tee shirt off.

Mulder yelped as the sudden movement jarred his shoulder. "Jeez Scully, I
thought you'd go for a nice slow seduction."

"Shut up Mulder." She frowned at what she saw. It was still daylight, and
the sun came in through the windows to give her a good view. Impressive, his
shoulder was slightly swollen, and a lovely shade of black and blue. "Can
you move your fingers?"

Mulder flexed his fingers then rotated his wrist before bending his arm. His
elbow and the side of his arm were also bruised, but not as deeply as his
shoulder. "See nothing broken." He moved his shoulder, with obvious
discomfort, but he had full range of motion. 

She nodded. "We should have gotten some ice packs though. Let's see your leg."

"Not until you buy me dinner first."

Buster started to wag his tail and both agents got the feeling he was highly
amused by the exchange. "Don't YOU start." Scully warned him. The dog had
the good sense to lay down and look cowed. But he also appeared to be grinning.

"Mulder, I've seen you in your boxers before. Now let me see how bad it is."

Mulder reached for his tee shirt and pulled it back on, a simple defensive
gesture. "Look, I can move my toes, bend my knee, Nothing's broken. It's
more of the same. A bitch of a bruise. Looking at it isn't going to make it
any better. I've taken the aspirin. And quite frankly if I take my jeans off
I'm not sure I'll get them back on, ok? Let it drop." Mulder petted Buster's
shoulder. "Think you can get into the glove compartment and bring out the
Pennsylvania road map?"

The dog got up and moved to the front of the van. Nudging the glove
compartment button he popped the compartment open to reveal a stack of road
maps. Most likely one for every state in the union as well as a few for
Canada and Mexico. Using his nose he nudged through them until he found the
requested paper. He brought it to the humans in back.

Mulder took it with a terse "Thanks" before grabbing a pen from the shelf
attached to the interior wall.  He stopped before tracing their route. Yep,
the electronic equipment was a police/fire scanner.

"Ok from here you drive to..." He traced their way in pen on the map. They
had alot of road hours ahead of them.

                                    X

Webb looked over Cook's shoulder at the surveillance videos from a strip
mall in West Virginia. The two of them were in a back room of the mall's
Menswear store. Cook had managed to trace the two Feds here. They had been
using their credit cards here, prolificly. Cook had a complete list of
purchased items. Everything, from toiletries to clothing, just the kinds of
things expected to be bought by two people on the run with no time to pack.

The tape showed a store full of people, it was hard to pick out the target
until, briefly his face showed on the camera. It looked like he had been in
a fight. And while Webb knew what had happened he let Cook draw his own
conclusions. 

"Ok so why are they headed  Northwest? Family? Anyone suspected to be
connected with the Dogs?"

Cook shook his head, but noted the use of the plural word - dogs. "Neither.
This is a diversion." He narrowed his eyes at the video, rewinding the tape
again to review Agent Mulder making his purchases at the register.

"What do you mean it's a diversion? These receipts show they are doing
something entirely expected."

Cook snorted in disgust. "Exactly. Look I read the dossiers you gave me.
These two are smart, very smart. I think they might have been able to come
in here, make their purchases and get out without ever getting a single face
shot in the surveillance cameras. But they didn't. It looks like they are
avoiding the cameras, but they STILL give us at least a half dozen good
looks at them. And they had to know the credit cards would be traced."

"So they are leaving a false trail." Webb chewed the ends of his mustache
again. "And we are back at square one."

Cook watched Webb leave the small back room and frowned. He'd done some
checking. Neither of these agents were officially being charged with a
crime. More and more alarm bells were going off in his head. Whatever he had
gotten involved in he was now certain it wasn't the search for a diseased
dog.  He'd read the paper this morning. He'd seen about the murdered couple.
He had no doubt that Webb had slaughtered two innocent people without the
slightest remorse. And he had the sinking suspicion that his superiors knew
about it. Who could he tell, without finding himself in a fatal 'accident'
as well?

He was skating on thin ice and he knew it. He wanted to know exactly what
was going on, what he was being used for and why. He knew Webb wasn't about
to give him any answers, and he was swiftly loosing faith in Director Simms.
This had gotten way out of control in a short period of time. All he could
do now was play dumb, pretend he wasn't piecing things together. And since
Agents Mulder and Scully were not charged with any crime, and no other
agency was looking for them then they were just as likely innocent
bystanders as well. He had HAD to point out the credit card usage, and he
HAD to point out the misdirection he felt was taking place, if only to give
himself credence. Show he was being a good little NSA man and doing his job.
But if he could do nothing else he was bound and determined to give those
two fugitives time. Time to make whatever move they had planed. And he hoped
they had a plan, because he wasn't sure how much time he could buy them...
                                  
                             X

Scully had been at the wheel for the first six hours. They had stopped at a
drive through for dinner and then Mulder taken the wheel. His side still
hurt, but he could manage, besides, he'd gotten some sleep while Scully
drove, and he knew they wouldn't reach their destination until around three am.

It was actually three thirty when he pulled into the driveway of the wooden
A frame ski chalet with a wrap around deck. The entire front of the building
was covered in windows. He'd been here six times over the years, usually to
enjoy the peace and quiet, to do a little skiing and enjoy Lenny's
hospitality. Lenny Kravitz had always said the door was open to any of the
small circle of friends who wanted to use the place as a getaway. Lenny had
meant for the guys to bring wives or girlfriends up here. Oh well, who
needed the refuge more, Donny or Frank to escape with a girl they wanted to
impress or Buster and Scully? 

Scully was asleep in the passenger seat, and he was loath to wake her. She
looked so peaceful in the pale moonlight. He couldn't make out Buster in the
back, but he was aware of the Dog's regular breathing, indicating he, too
had fallen asleep.

Mulder reached over to touch Scully's shoulder. She woke in an instant.

"Huh?"

"We're here. Come on, help me gather the stuff out of the back and wake up
beeping sleauty back there."

Buster yawned once and regained his feet, following the humans up onto the
wooden deck.

"This is a nice place." Scully could make out alot in the full moonlight. 

"Wait till the sun's out. It gets better." Mulder removed the glass hood of
the wall sconce porch light and retrieved a key. He opened the front door
without a problem.

"Where are the beds? I'm sorry Mulder but at this hour I'd rather explore in
the morning."

"It is morning Scully." He flipped on a light switch. "Upstairs. Just look
in the rooms till you find one with a bed."

She took her bags and trudged up the stairs with a barely discernable "Night
Mulder."

He saw Buster had flopped down in front of the empty fireplace. He knew how
they felt. But first things first. 

He went to the  gourmet refridgeration unit in the large kitchen to the back
of the house. He was in luck. There were five packs just sitting in there.
Since most of Lenny's friends came here to ski in the winter keeping ice
packs on hand for sprains and strains was prudent. Mulder grabbed two of the
cold blue bags and shook them up, feeling the gel was still good he took
them with him in to the couch. He really didn't feel like climbing stairs
anyway.

      
 




Disclaimed in parts 1 and 5. For Nancy.

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 12/21)

Rain. It was raining. He could hear it faintly outside. Cautiously he rose
off the couch, amazingly free of pain. The sound of shattering glass
upstairs and a scream of terror sent spears of ice through his gut, up his
spine. He ran up the stairs. 

"Scully!" God, not her. Let her be ok, please just let her...

Low animal sounds, and a soft canine whimper came from behind the door to
his left. Without hesitation he kicked it in. 

The room was dark, only the moonlight illuminating the rain that blew in
through the shattered full wall window, the curtains whipping the the wind
like the flapping of some great leathery wings. Like a dragon, a dragon of
death.

Buster lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. The dog's legs still
twitched and it whined low in it's throat. It's too intelligent eyes met
his, begging for forgiveness. No words were needed. 'I'm sorry.' those eyes
said, 'forgive me. I'm sorry.' Before the light, the brilliance of which
rivaled that of humans faded from those eyes.

Mulder looked up, there was something hunched over the bed. It was a shadow,
but a bolt of lightening briefly outlined a hunched nightmare with wickedly
curved talons. He aimed his gun at it's back, the grip cold against his
palm. His hand cramping from the need to fire. To kill it. The thing was
leaning over something... doing something. It had killed Buster... where was
Scully? Where was...

The thing turned. In another flash of lightening his world crumbled. Scully
lay sprawled across the bed. Blood was everywhere. Her throat was gone, and
her torso slashed. The thing was smiling at him, it's teeth still dripping
with Scully's lifeblood. 

"NOOoooooooo!" He fired, his finger jerking the trigger, emptying the clip
fully into the creature, kept jerking the trigger when the only sound coming
from the gun was a repetitive clicking.

The thing had jerked with the impact of the bullets, but did not go down.
It's eyes blazed in rage. Mulder let his eyes fall on the still, mangled
form on the bed and lowered his gun.

As the thing lept for him he raised no defence. Die. He wanted to die...
Before he felt the agony of the razor claws ripping through his stomach the
creature's countenance blurred, melting into the face of that smoking
bastard....

Mulder sat up suddenly, the air rushing from his lungs. He hurt. His
shoulder, his hip and his cheek throbbed dully. A hand instinctively went to
his abdomen. Only to smooth over the cotton of his tee shirt. Outside the
sun was shining. No rain, no darkness. The clock on the TV across from him
told him that it was 9:17 in the morning. How the hell had he slept so late?

Upstairs he heard the sounds of the shower. Well, sort of. It sounded weird,
like rain on plastic. Rain... Ok, you're a psychologist you figure it out,
he thought to himself. Horror stories of the thing created with the original
Dog, anxiety over what he and Scully had been dragged into this time and the
sounds of the water upstairs had combined to give him a nice new nightmare
for his growing collection.

He stood up stiffly. The ice pacs had long since warmed up so he returned
them to the fridge before making his way up the stairs. The water from the
shower WAS running, but the door was open.

He peered through the doorway to see one of the more amusing sights in his
life. Scully had lined the tub with a shower curtain before donning a
plastic rain poncho and a pair of rubber gloves. She had Buster completely
coated in black dye. She ran a brush through his fur, making sure he was
well coated as she rinsed away the dye under the detachable shower head. He
didn't know HOW she had managed to get the fur so close to his eyes, nose
and lips, but the dog was completely covered. He couldn't help the chuckle
that escaped. After his nightmare this was just too much.

Scully turned and arched a brow at him. "It lives. Laugh now, but YOU are
cleaning this up. I did my part."

Buster looked at Mulder accusingly. But accusing him of what? Leaving Scully
to do this task on her own? Allowing poor Buster to be coated in black goo?
Whatever it was he just nodded. "Sure. I'll clean up. But who gets the
shower after him?"

Scully glared this time. "*I* do. You slept the morning away. I've been
busy. I get dibbs. You get to take Buster out so the two of you can get the
lay of the land or whatever male bonding guys do."

"Oh joy. Hey Buster, there's a video store in town about twenty miles from
here. Want to go see if they have any nature shows on the mating habits of
dogs?" He grinned until the wet, yet unstained washrag hit him right in the
chest. 

"You are NOT getting him into doggie porn. Take a hike."

"Real subtle Scully." Mulder leaned against the sink as she went on full
rinse. The odor of wet dog mingled with the ammonia tang of the hair dye to
make the smell in the bathroom something to remember. If he was lucky by the
time she was done the air would have cleared. 

When all the water ran clear Buster was a black dog. He looked like a golden
Retriever/ Black Lab crossbreed. His fur was too long for a pure lab.

The dog started to shiver until Scully spoke sharply. "Don't you DARE! I'm
going to squeeze you dry, towel you off then turn the hair dryer on you
again. But you are NOT going to shake and soak this bathroom. Got that?"

Buster hung his head and woofed once, softly.
                            X

Lem watched the cars ahead of him on the interstate. He was only mildly
disappointed that they hadn't spotted him following them. Sure he was
trained for this, but it still showed a lack of attentiveness. Scrappy
whined at the window kept closed at his side. He knew why he couldn't stick
his head out, but it vexed him none the less.

Having lost all trace of Buster, Lem had told his friend that following the
hunters was the next best thing. If they DID find the missing Dog and those
who were helping him then Lem might be able to run interference. Scrappy had
agreed. The two he had to stick to were up ahead in a black van. Hardly
original. The taller of the two gave Lem the creeps.  He'd picked them up at
the strip mall they'd been searching based on his own investigation into the
finance records of Mulder and Scully. What he'd discovered about the two so
far was impressive. He just hoped they could lay low for a while.
                                         X
Webb handed Cook the pages he'd just received through the portable FAX.
Lists of every known friend, relative and aquaintence of the agents they
were after.

"This is alright, but they will expect us to track their friends and
families. They are too clever for that. They'll stick to cheap hotels and
the like. Places where no one asks questions, probably ones that allow pets.
I want a list of every hotel at or under $40 a night for a double in this
and the surrounding states. I want a complete list of this pairs past cases,
especially in these states, aiming at where they stayed. The ones that allow
pets go on top of this list. Let's see if I can out think them."

Webb looked at Cook strangely, and Cook kept his face carefully neutral.

"All right, we'll get on it."

Cook sighed. How to make a move and countermove. He actually thought smart
as these two were they would assume he'd think just what he'd told Webb, and
so use some family refuge. He was reminded of a funny sketch he'd seen in
'The Princess Bride', trying to out think the opponent by guessing what
glass held the poison. It was a whole big 'I know that you know that I know
that you know' game that could go on infinitum. So if he made the wrong
choice and actually DID track them down? After all he couldn't obviously be
misleading. Well then he hoped he could get them out alive. What scared him
was that in 'The Princess Bride' BOTH glasses had been poisened.
                                  X
Buster came downstairs looking like the Pink Panther fresh from the clothes
dryer. Mulder finished shoving the stained shower curtain and poncho into a
garbage bag for later disposal. The look Buster gave him told him that the
Dog KNEW how he looked and would be glad to make Mulder aware of just how
sharp all those teeth were if he said one word. Two baths and blow dryings,
not to mention the damages of the dye did not do well for the poor guy.

"Come On ugly, I'll take you out so you can kill some plant life."

Once in the woods Buster bounded along a deer path with limitless energy.
Chasing down interesting smells and marking almost every other tree as his. 

"All this and brains too." Mulder muttered under his breath. Buster was up
ahead looking back as if wondering what was taking so long. He wasn't about
to admit to a DOG that he was still stiff and sore.

"Come on, let's head back. We've been out here for fifteen minutes."

Buster spotted a passing bee and got a gleam in his eye. He gave Mulder a
'but I wanna play now' look before chasing the bug. Mulder shook his head.
Ten minutes later they headed back.

Mulder went inside. Scully wasn't at the computer, though she had set the
laptop on the table and left it powered up. Mulder heard the water running
upstairs running. She was still in the shower.

Buster jumped onto the table and picked up the stylus between his teeth. He
began to tap on the keys. Mulder poured himself an iced tea then moved to
stand behind the dog to see what he was writing.

SHE IS NICE.  WHY YOU NOT MARRIED HAVE BABIES.

Mulder spewed his tea across the kitchen then started to cough. The tea had
lodged itself in the wrong pipe. Tears came to his eyes as he finally
coughed out enough to regain his breath, and his voice.

"What? Buster she's my partner. My friend. We don't think of each other like
that. Now delete that before you embarrass us both."

YOU THINK OF HER LIKE A MATE ALL THE TIME. I SEE YOU LOOK AT HER. I SEE
YOU
TRY TO TOUCH HER WHEN SHE SLEEPS IN CAR. YOU BELONG TOGETHER.

Mulder gripped the back of the chair hard. He had thought Buster was asleep
too. Damn Dog. He reached forward and deleted the screen.

"Look, she's off bounds. Even if I did... feel that way, she doesn't. End of
story." Mulder was speaking low now, close to Buster's ear, afraid Scully,
wherever she was, might hear. "What we do would make that kind of
relationship dangerous anyway."

Buster turned back to the laptop, slowly and carefully pecking out keys.

SHE FEELS SAME THING. SHE WATCHES YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP. Mulder hissed and
closed his eyes, swallowing hard. He did not want to read this, did not want
to know this. YOU BOTH SHARE ALL NOW. YOUR HEARTS AND LIVES. WHY WOULD
THINGS CHANGE. BE WORSE.

"You know you're a real pain in the ass Dog, have been since I met you."
Mulder deleted the screen again. 

AND YOU ARE STUPID. STUBBORN. YOU SHOULD NIP HER NECK AND MOUNT
HER. 

The suggestion burned a mental image into Mulder's mind. Not good. Mulder
couldn't believe it. A dog was making him blush. HIM. This was getting
beyond ridiculous. 

"Next time I need sex advice from I dog I'll be sure to look you up."

Mulder heard the sharp intake of breath behind him and spun. Scully stood in
the kitchen doorway, her hair still wet from her shower. An oversized robe
tied closed over her small form, gaping open just enough at the top to make
Mulder aware of why he was having this stupid conversation with the Dog in
the first place. The view also made him think on that mental image again.
Her eyes were glued to the laptop in front of Buster.

Mulder ran a hand through his hair and cursed under his breath as he reached
over to again delete the screen.

"Just what the hell is going on down here? I came down to get my new clothes
and find this going on in the kitchen?" She crossed her arms and glared at
them. 
         
Mulder ignored the tap,taping of the computer keys. Turning his back on the
Dog to fully face his partner. "Buster here was making another bad attempt
at humor."

Scully looked from at something behind him and paled. Mulder spun to look at
the computer screen.

HE LOVES YOU. YOU LOVE HIM. STOP BEING STUBBORN.

That was it. He was going to save the NSA and the Consortium some time. He
was going to throttle the Dog here and now.

"That's it. Muzzle, choke chain and travel cage for you from here on in."
Mulder growled at the dog who only sat there and yawned at the threats.
       
       


Disclaimer: The X- files is owned by CC.//And his 10/13 company.//Dean
Koontz he owns an idea//That I borrowed to put down hear// He also owns good
Lem,//But I made up the rest of them.// This story is part romance,//So
don't get bunches in your pants.//It has action and a plot line too// So it
just might be for you.// So I won't take up more time// Making you suffer
through more rhymes.
For Nancy.

WATCHED
by Rhondda Lake
(part 13/21)

"Buster you have a lot to learn about human nature." Scully interjected. She
had been flustered a moment before but she had recovered. "Mulder and I care
about one another, we are best friends. And yes, we have a bond that runs
deep. I suppose it could be called love. We rely on each other so much, and
we have seen and been through so much... but it isn't THAT kind of
relationship. I can understand how it can be confusing at times." She moved
forward to stroke the top of Buster's head.

Mulder wasn't sure if he wanted to applaud Scully's flawless explanation, or
cringe. It certainly clarified her own feelings if nothing else, not that he
hadn't already suspected just that. So he determined to keep any of his own
unpartnerlike feelings to himself. 

"I have to go into town for some food. I made some iced tea from powder, but
there is nothing but canned and dried stuff here." Mulder decided to make a
graceful exit while he could.

"Oh no! I am not leaving food choices up to the frozen dinner king. No way."
Scully shook her head emphatically. "You go shower and change. I'm coming
with you."

"What about Buster? Do you think we should leave him alone?"

Tap....tap....tap...

Mulder was almost afraid to look at what message awaited them this time. 

DON'T NEED BABY SITTER. I'M AN ADULT. GO. GET FOOD. GET HOT DOGS LOTS
OF HOT
DOGS

Mulder tried to suppress a smile at that, but his lips twitched a bit.

"Hot dogs are not good for you. How about some ground beef instead? I can
cook it up and rinse off the grease." Scully asked.

YOU TAKE FUN OUT OF EVERYTHING.

Mulder decided to sneak off for that shower before he laughed and Scully
smacked him.
                                     X

When the van stopped the others moved on. The teams would coordinate only
when needed. It was too conspicuous to stay together. They had stopped at a
steak house for a quick lunch. Inside Cook was pouring over a list of hotels
that accepted cash only in the surrounding states. With a highlighter he
marked names likely to be chosen by the prey. 

Webb didn't like this. The Dog was much more mobile now. Hell, he and his
two keepers could be in Canada by now. He pulled Hernandez, their van's
driver, to the side and gave him the list Cook wanted put on hold. 

"Take this to Simms. Tell him to put a team on checking out each of these
addresses, and to check out the people listed. Tell him Cook thinks it's a
dead end but I want to be certain." 

Hernandez nodded and moved to return to the van, hopefully without Cook
noticing. If Webb had pulled him out of earshot then he gathered that Cook
didn't need to know about it.
                                          X

Lem was working a crossword puzzle in the car. His query had been in the
steak house for the past twenty minutes. He'd already eaten. He always
tailed someone with a full cooler. Scrappy was playing a trivia game on the
laptop. His latest favorite was the JEOPARDY home game.

When the driver of the van emerged from the restaurant alone Lem frowned.
When he disappeared into the van for five minutes, without the van moving
Lem was puzzled. 

"What the hell?" 

The sounds of the game stopped and Scrappy placed a paw on his leg. 

MAYBE HE SICK. OR MAYBE THEY SPOT YOU AFTER ALL.

But the two NSA men he'd targeted as heading the team emerged in three more
minutes and got into the van.

"Something about this whole thing is looking ugly. Uglier then we thought
maybe." Lem muttered as he started his car and prepared to follow.
                               X

Stupid. Humans could be so stupid sometimes. Those two needed a good bite in
the ass. Buster paced the chalet. Exploring it once again. Who did they
think they were fooling anyway? Not him. When Dana had shown up in that too
big robe there was no mistaking the scent coming off the Fox. It was the
subtle changing of scent that came with a release of hormones in the body.
Put at it's most basic it was the human equivalent of heat. Buster knew the
biology behind it, he also knew that no rationalization detracted from
putting things on their most basic and simple level. The Fox was male, Dana
was female. He wanted her. And if Buster's eyes and nose had not failed she
wanted him as well. They liked each other. They respected one another. It
was more than lust. They were in love. What was WRONG with these humans? 

Buster almost scratched that the itchy burn in his side but settled for
wriggling. Don't tear the stitches. The dye had burned the slash a bit, but
all in all he thought he was healing quite nicely.

Ok what to do about Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee? Thinking about that helped
keep his mind off the itch. Being blunt wasn't working. Maybe he had to be a
bit sneaky? Just how sneaky can you can get without opposable digits was a
indication of canine cleverness. Buster sighed. 

With a doggie grin Buster had the beginnings of a plan. Now, if he could
only get the breaker box open...
                               X
      
They had stocked up on edibles and were heading back. For once the silence
between them was uncomfortable. It was close enough to their usual shared
silences it made Dana's skin crawl. She glanced over at Mulder who was
either watching the road or zoning out. And since he was driving she hoped
it was the former.

Great. They hadn't said more then two words since they left, and they had
Buster to thank for it. It was stupid. Why were they both so uncomfortable
over such a simple misunderstanding? It's not like it was the first time
their relationship was mistaken for another. Maybe it was Buster's earnest
forthrightness about his questions and from what Scully could see, suggestions.

Maybe it was because in the Dog's guileless innocence he had touched too
close to home. She looked away from Mulder and tried to focus on the wooded
scenery out the window. Tried not to think of how his still damp hair
slicked back just so, or how his adams apple bobbed just slightly when he
swallowed or the lines of his profile or ... dammit Dana stop it, she chided
herself. Ok so there WAS a physical attraction. At least on her part. But a
little dose of lust did not true love make. Love was... what? Putting the
needs and happiness of the other before your own. Knowing someone completely
and accepting all they were despite the faults and flaws. Thinking about
that person a lot, even and especially when they weren't there. She bit down
on the inside of her cheek. Oh shit. Step back from this and think about it
rationally. Ok, that worked. She WAS in love. But it didn't change anything.
Not really. Mulder didn't feel the same way. 

Yes, he liked and respected her. Yes he was overprotective. But when did he
put her before himself? Besides handing over the MJ tape, leaving the
decision in her hands. Or trying to get her to back away from a case that
made her uncomfortable... he still ran off on his own, still had his head
berried in his endless search for 'The Truth' so far that he was blind to
almost everything else. His first priority was finding his sister, or at the
very least finding what happened to her. Everything else, everyone else, was
incidental. He was driven, intense, and passionate under an exterior of cool
indifference. And he had no room or desire in his life for anything more
than one night stands and celluloid fantasies. And even if she were willing
to settle for that, which she wasn't, she was hardly the statuesque brunette
type with legs that go all the way up that Mulder had a penchant for. 

"Quarter for your thoughts." Mulder's voice startled her out of her thoughts.

"Thought it was supposed to be a penny." She looked at him, forcing a bland
expression.

"Well, you know, inflation, taxes, factor in a small profit." He gave her
that disarming lopsided grin.

"Buster."

"Buster." He repeated.

"So what? Now you're a parrot? Yes, Buster. You know, short, furry, smart
ass, pulls off the wounded puppy look even better than you." 

"Ooooh, THAT Buster. I thought you meant Buster KEATON. I thought you had a
thing for Tarzan." The teasing gleam was back in his eyes. Everything was
alright. 

"Keaton? No way. Christopher Lambert... Now THERE was a Tarzan." a faint
smile touched her lips.

"So you like men in loincloths?" He pulled into the short driveway.

"Depends on the man." She reached behind the seat to grab two of the grocery
bags.

"Ever hear my Tarzan imitation?" He whispered close to her ear before
ducking out the driver side door with his two bags.

She froze for a few seconds then regained her composure. Just what the hell
did he think he was doing?
                                      ####
Just what the hell did he think he was doing? Hear my Tarzan imitation,
smooth move Mulder. He winced inwardly. But part of him wanted to just see
how she'd react. A little game of shock Scully, it was harmless. Right. So
why did she looked flushed and why did she freeze up for a moment?

Mulder opened the door and headed for the kitchen before noticing the place
seemed a bit dim. It was only when he got to the kitchen and opened the
fridge to put the milk and perishables away that he noticed the total lack
of power.

Buster was sitting at the table in front of the powerbook, which was
thankfully run on batteries. 

LIGHTS AND STUFF WENT OFF JUST AFTER YOU LEFT. I CHECKED BREAKERS
AND FUSES.
MUST BE OUTSIDE PROBLEM.

Great, just great. Mulder moved the perishables to the freezer, planning on
keeping it closed as much as possible to keep the temp down.

"What's wrong?" Scully set her bags at the table then read the screen. She
shook her head. "Ok then off this goes, we better preserve the batteries."
She turned the powerbook off and closed it up.

"They may have traced us here somehow?" Mulder frowned, suddenly alert.

Mulder, if they did and THEY cut the power, they would have come in and
taken Buster when they didn't have US to deal with. No, it's a simple power
outage. "Scully unpacked her bags and frowned at the pint of ice cream she
had bought. 

"Freezer should be good overnight at least." Mulder pointed out.

Dinner was grilled chicken. By the time it was done it was dark out, so they
ate by candle light. Throughout the meal Mulder kept giving suspicious
glances at Buster, who was pointedly ignoring both of them. It was nice. Too
nice. 

After dinner Scully built up a fire. It was too warm for one really, but it
would provide light.

Mulder found an old Scrabble game and set it down in front of the fire place. 

It was weird, because Buster wanted to play. He even won the first game,
mostly because something in their human egos didn't think he could. But by
the time he'd used his last tile in the word 'rationale' they were ready for
him. Mulder won the second game, pulling on the strangest words he could
find which kept Scully looking in the dictionary. Buster bowed out of a
third game. He limped off to the kitchen, spelling out 'TIRED' with the
wooden tiles.

As they set up for a third game Scully sighed. "So what are we going to do?
We can't stay here forever."

"We wait a few days, and hopefully this Hyatt guy will send word through the
guys. They can reach us through your computer. THEN we should have someplace
to take him at least."

Scully nodded. The dancing firelight burnishing her hair, and playing with
the shadows on her face. She looked beautiful. "I'll miss him." She actually
looked sad.

"Yeah, well, you can't keep him. Even disguised. I think the fact that we're
here is proof enough of that." 

"When we get back." She looked at him, as if daring him to refute the when
part, "I promise not to make fun of your rampant paranoia again. AND, I'd
appreciate it if you had my apartment sweeped."

"Sure. Frohike will do it for a pair of your underwear." Mulder lay down his
first word. 'danger'.

"I don't think so." She lay out 'devil'.

Mulder turned to look at her word and she was right there, their arms
brushing. So close. It barely took any movement at all on his part to lean
over just the slightest bit and cover her lips with his own. No effort at
all for the reward of the incredible heat that spread through him from that
simple sensation, a heat that had nothing to do with the crackling fire
before them.
         
     




Disclaimed in parts 1, 5 and 13. Warning this part is rated NC-17. An
alternate R version will also be available. This part is definately for
Nancy. ;)

WATCHED 
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 14/21)

What was going on? She had simply been playing a game of scrabble, and out
of nowhere... Fox Mulder was kissing her. Her partner was kissing her. And
she was liking it. A lot. His lips were soft and warm on hers. They moved
slightly to sandwich her bottom lip. 

Then she felt him shift slightly, his fingers gently tracing the side of her
face. Small tingles of excitement flowed from every nerve his fingers brushed. 

What the... She jumped back as if burned. And in a way she had been. Burned
by him. What was happening here? She had always assumed that he respected
her too much to try pulling something like this. Just what was he pulling?
And what would she do if he really was interested? If despite her earlier
assessment he was indeed interested in her as more than a partner and friend? 

"Mulder, what the hell is happening here? I'm no one's one night stand, and
I definitely think this is a line we don't want to cross."

His eyes, meeting hers were filled with a mixture of fear and... was it
desire? Oh shit. This was not good. He inhaled and moved back. "You're
right." He ran his free hand through his hair. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm
tired, and the company, the firelight, the scent of wood smoke... it all
went to my head."

His hasty apology hurt. Why? It was what she wanted wasn't it? No. Dammit
she wanted him. It was just not a smart move. Besides he wasn't really
interested. But then why had he kissed her?

"I don't think your head was all that involved with what just happened
here." Her lips twitched slightly.

"Sure it was Scully, just not the one you're thinking of." The flip
rejoinder didn't mask the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. 

She loved him. Completely, hopelessly. She trusted him with her life. With
her sanity. How much harder could it be to trust him with her heart? 

"I meant what I said Mulder. I'm no one's one night stand."

Mulder frowned, "I never in a million years thought you were."

Scully smiled, one of her rare room lighting smiles. "If that's true just
what are you looking for?"

Mulder looked a bit flustered. He looked down at their hands, so close on
the floor. "I'm looking for forever." He said it so softly, as if speaking
the words aloud would shatter what they had now. Their friendship.

Scully couldn't quite find her voice. So she moved her hand, to cover his.
At that he looked at her. His heart was in his eyes, and she wondered how
she had ever managed to miss it before. Or had she been afraid to see it? It
didn't matter. This was mutual. And with the absolute clarity of hindsight
she could see it had been for a while now. 

This time she leaned in to kiss him. Yes, she could trust him with her
heart. She could trust him with everything.

The kiss deepened. At this signal of willingness from her he seemed to allow
his own fears to slip away. She felt his hand on the curve of her neck. His
palm warm and dry and slightly rough against her skin as she opened herself
to him. To his taste, his touch, his scent... everything. It felt so right.
His mouth was demanding on hers, his tongue dipping inside to taste, to seek
her soul thru this contact. She shifted and was made aware of just how
uncomfortable the floor was. Reluctantly she broke this kiss as well. 

"Come on. Let's take this upstairs, away from hard floors and prying eyes."
She looked meaningfully at the dark  kitchen.

She stood and Mulder moved to follow, wincing slightly as he gained his
feet. "I'm not exactly at my best Scully." His wry, self-depreciating smile
touched her. She nodded and gently brushed her finger over the bruise on his
cheek. She remembered his slight limp.

"Don't worry. I'm a doctor... I'm sure I can figure something out." She
twined her fingers with his and led him to the stairs, quickly before she
lost her nerve or allowed herself to think about it too much. 

As they made their way up the stairs Buster stepped from the kitchen - his
tail wagging at top speed, and a grin on his doggy face. 
                                                        X
The upstairs was dark, and neither of them were absolutely familiar with the
chalet. Mulder paused, then released Scully's hand, feeling along the wall
for the linen closet. Finding the door he opened it and felt around the
third shelf for the candle stash. Power problems were not new here, really.
He'd been here one winter when the lines went down due to a snow storm. He
found them, right where he remembered them.

He bumped into Scully, who hadn't moved. She felt along his arm to take his
hand once more. 

Inside the master bedroom Mulder found a pack of matches in the top dresser
drawer. Lighting a candle he found two decorative candles on either side of
the dresser mirror and lit them as well. Scully found an ashtray and with
the use of some melted wax they anchored three more candles to it. 

The room was bathed in a soft amber glow. He turned from the candles to look
at Scully. The sight stole his breath away. While he had been lighting
candles she had taken the opportunity to remove her t-shirt. She was
standing next to the bed. In jeans and her bra. At that moment she looked a
lot smaller then usual. Or maybe he was just looking at her differently. 

She moved toward him and pulled his shirt free of his jeans. He finished the
job of pulling it over his head. He slid his fingers under Scully's chin,
lifting her face up to him, so he could look in her eyes. Tears shimmered
there but desire overshadowed the hints of fear. He bent down to brush his
lips over her eyes, kissing away the tears, tasting the saltiness of them
before finding her mouth with his own once more. His arm slipped behind her,
pulling her close, feeling the cool roughness of her lace trimmed bra just
below the soft warmth of her breasts as she molded to him. She was kissing
him now, hungrily, her arms twining about his neck, pulling him down a bit
more. He kissed his way down her throat, finding every spot that made her
gasp and shiver with his lips and tongue. Her fingernails scraped against
his scalp and bit into his shoulder. 

He found the clasp to her bra and unhooked it, peeling it off her. He moved
back to look at the flesh he was revealing. She smiled softly as he ran a
single finger over the outside curve of each breast before moving in to
circle each hardened nipple. She bit her full bottom lip and her eyes half
closed to savor the sweet sensations his feathery caresses sent though her.
He tugged her to the bed and sat on the edge, so she stood before him
between his spread legs. He kissed the tops of her breasts, cupping their
warm weight in his palms, lightly squeezing. He inhaled the rich scent
there. The soft aroma that was purely Scully. He savored it, though he knew
that scent already. Here it was stronger, and infinitely more heady. When he
finally pulled one hardened nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his
tongue and nipping it slightly before providing it with the gentle suckling
that produced a low moan from her.
    That sound, added to the arching of her back and her fingers clasping
his head to her all combined to make his own jeans painfully tight. He could
feel the roughness of the zipper, the texture of the cotton of his boxers.
He let his hands wander over her body, memorizing each curve and muscle
before he reached to undo her jeans. All the while he occupied his mouth
with one breast then the other, trailing fiery kisses between them.

Scully felt her knees going weak. It wasn't a reaction she was used to. The
sweet ache, the flush of heat brought on by Mulder's hands and mouth were
enough to drive almost all conscious thought from her mind.

She felt him tug her jeans and underwear down, and she stepped from them
before pushing him back on the bed. She noticed the momentary flash of pain
though, and as she pulled off his jeans - tugging the boxers with them - she
got her first look at his hip. The bruise was dark and deep. Completely
removing the last of his clothing she leaned over to examine his shoulder
again. 

"Oh God, don't you DARE become Doctor Scully right now." He cupped the base
of her skull in his hand and dragged her down for another deep sensual kiss,
driving her medical evaluation from her mind. Finally coming up for air she
gave him a slow, seductive smile. 

"I was just going to kiss it and make it better." She bent to kiss his
shoulder, lifting his arm in one hand to trail her tongue down the varying
degrees of bruise to end at his elbow. Her eyes met him over his arm and she
smiled at the way his breath caught. 

His other hand was exploring her, touching everywhere he could reach,
stroking, squeezing, tempting.

She dropped his arm and rained kisses on his chest, feeling the muscles
there jump and move under her mouth. Enjoying the salt and musky scent and
taste. She payed the same attention to his flat nipples as he had to hers,
and she smiled as he arched under her. She could feel him - hard and heavy
pressed against her stomach. 

She moved lower, sliding her body against his. Revelling in the feel of
heated flesh against heated flesh. She kissed the dark patch on his hip as
her hands moved between them, one to cup and gently squeeze the other to
stroke and tease. She ran her thumb in circles over the tip of his arousal.

"God, Dana." He hissed, thrusting upward. 

She released him and took his hands. "Sit up. Back against the headboard."
Her tone brooked no argument. He did, pulling himself back so his back
leaned against the carved wooden headboard. She kneeled before him,
stradling his legs so he could feel her moist heat pressing against him. She
kissed his bruised cheek. "You are so sexy, you know that? Even bruised and
bedraggled. I want you. So very much."

He kissed her again, slow and deep before moving back to look into her eyes.
His own eyes were rendered ebon dark in the candlelight, glazed with desire.
"Well you got me." His hands encircled her waist. "For as long as you can
put up with me." His hand moved to cup her, his finger seeking and finding
the slick readiness there. 

She smiled as the love in his eyes combined with his words filled her heart
near to breaking. She lifted up and moved forward, then - bracing one hand
on his uninjured shoulder the other on the headboard behind him- she slowly
sank down onto him, taking her own weight on her knees. He placed his hands
on her waist again.  She threw her head back as she felt him enter but
forced herself to look back at his face, to watch him. It had been so long
that wet as she was it was still a bit uncomfortable. She took him in
slowly, allowing herself to get used to the fullness. He filled her
completely.  He had trapped his full, pouty bottom lip under his top teeth,
his eyes searching hers as if silently answering a challenge. He seemed to
be struggling as much as she was to maintain focus. Their bodies were in
complete contact, their torsos pressed together so she could feel the fine
hairs of his chest against her nipples with every breath either of them took.  

She kissed him as she began to move. The groan that rumbled from his throat
was as thrilling as the feel of him against her, with her, inside her. 

They found a rhythm immediately, in sync with one another in this as much as
with anything. She felt one of his hands move to cup her breast as the other
settled at the small of her back. The hand at her breast caressed and
squeezed as his thumb teased and tormented the tip. Their eyes never left
each other as each move, each caress and each stroke brought them closer to
the white hot center they sought. They searched each other's faces and eyes,
learning just what move, what touch brought the most pleasure. No words were
needed. Their eyes said it all. They only stopped the intense scrutiny when
one or the other leaned in to steal a kiss, setting the thrust of tongues to
match the rhythm of their joining below until a mutual need for air forced
them to stop and seek each other's eyes again. Dana felt herself close to
the edge, the heat ready to sear her. Mulder saw this and thrust deeper,
sending her over the edge and into the blazing core, crying out his name as
she went.

The sound of her release as much as the feel of her body milking him sent
Mulder immediately after her. He too cried out as he spilled into her, his
body continuing to thrust against her, as his arms wrapped around her to
pull her close. He wanted to be part of her, to lose himself in her. 

At last, exhausted, he slid down on the bed and lay back - dragging her with
him. He didn't ever want to let her go again.