From: Donna Honeycutt <donnah@pop.uky.edu>
Date: Tue, 01 Dec 1998 14:53:10 -0500
Subject: New Story - Findings




Title - Findings

Author - Donna

Email address - donnah@pop.uky.edu

Rating - NC-17

Category - Relationship

Spoilers - None

Keywords - Relationship, angst

Summary - Finding out the truth may not be what you really want

Feedback - Please please please


Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris
 Carter,10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.

Findings (R) 

She was now seriously worried about his state of mind. The problem was, she 
couldn’t figure out what had sent him down this spiral. He wasn’t working with 
the VCS; their own caseload was down. She’d thought at first that was the 
problem, not enough to keep him busy. Not anymore, something was wrong. He could 
barely drag himself into the office most mornings and nothing could get him to 
talk. 

She’d even tried flirting; she’d never do that again. She had no idea her ego 
was that fragile, but the rebuff was staggering. 

So now she was going to do what she was trained to do. He was going to be her 
investigation. She would find out what was going on and how she could help. She 
had to; he had never needed her more. And by God, she was going to be there for 
him, whether he wanted it or not. 

It hadn’t been hard to follow him. He didn’t really seem to care, leaving at 
five everyday. He had never left at five in all of the years she’d known him, 
always one more thing to check into. Not now. 

She’d thought he was working on something with the Gunmen and been prepared to 
follow him there and confront him. But that wasn’t it. He would go home, change 
to jeans and a t-shirt and walk. That made it harder to follow him, but she was 
going to do this. 

The neighborhood he walked to surprised her. This wasn’t the kind of place 
Mulder would normally hang out. She wasn’t that worried about his safety; he was 
armed and well trained, but still. . . 

It wasn’t the kind of place she could hang around unnoticed, so she had had to 
retreat that first night. The second night, she was better prepared for the 
place and dressed more in order as well. He went to the same diner and just sat, 
looking out the window. She hadn’t had time to observe what he was watching the 
night before, now she could. The prostitutes. He was watching them with such 
intensity. 

Fox Mulder did not need to hire women. She knew of a couple of dozen women at 
the Bureau who would jump if he snapped his fingers. And while she didn’t want 
to count herself in that number, she knew that if he ever made such a move 
toward her, he would basically have no trouble. Damn it Dana! That’s not what 
this was about. He wasn’t approaching the women, just watching. That made even 
less sense. 

Surely she had missed something. Maybe he was investigating the pimp. That wasn’t 
exactly FBI jurisdiction, but he could be doing someone a favor. No, this was 
bringing him too far down. This was the way he acted when he was profiling, 
which is why she discouraged it as strongly as she did. Whose head was he trying 
to get into here and why? 

Suddenly he was up and leaving. She barely managed to turn away. She needn’t 
have bothered, he didn’t look left or right, just got out. What had happened? 
She had obviously missed something. He had to talk to her. 

The next morning in the office she tried again to get him to open up. What was 
this? Had he fallen for some woman and then found out she was a pro? When would 
he have found time to meet someone, and why did it cause shooting pains in her 
body? He was entitled to have a woman in his life, just as she was entitled to 
have a man. Of course, she felt like Mulder was the man in her life, lacking 
though their relationship might be in some areas. 

Without revealing that she was following him, she couldn’t say too much, and he 
refused to say anything. Part of her wanted to shake him and another part wanted 
to take him in her arms and make it better. Since neither was a viable option 
she dropped it, more determined than ever to get more information that night. 

It was the same again, as though he were drawn to that diner and that window. 
There seemed to be one woman he was especially interested in. She tried to 
ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This woman was fairly 
attractive, or would be if she were fixed up. The make-up and clothes were wrong 
for her. Mulder tensed every time she was approached. Come to think of it, she 
had left with someone last night just before his abrupt departure. Now Scully 
watched the woman more closely. What would she look like cleaned up? She didn’t 
seem to be Mulder’s type, though Scully wasn’t totally convinced she could pick 
that out. It obviously wasn’t redheads, but she’d always figured him for blondes. 
This woman had long brunette hair, or she was wearing a wig. 

She glanced back over at Mulder in that window, from her car parked in the 
shadows. Was that a tear? Was Mulder crying over this woman? Oh to hell with it, 
he needed help and she was damn well going to give it to him whether he wanted 
it or not. 

She was able to enter the diner without him spotting her. Not true of the other 
patrons, but she was armed, it would be okay. He was sitting with his back to 
the door anyway, not wise and not at all like him. 

He started violently when she touched his shoulder, turning and half rising from 
his seat. 

"Scully! What the hell are you doing in a place like this!?" He hissed. He had 
hold of her now and was shoving her into the opposite side of the booth, 
immediately shielding her body from the rest of the room with his own. 

"I had to know what was wrong Mulder. You need help and I want to be here for 
you." In her eyes he could read her concern, but he didn’t want to get into this, 
not even with her. Especially not with her. 

"Let’s get out of here. This is no place for you."

"Is it a place for you?" 

"Come on, Scully. I’ll take you home." 

"She’s still out there. Do you want to wait?" 

She would have gotten less reaction if she had shot him again. His entire face 
shut down and his grip on her arm became painful. 

"Who is she Mulder? Please, let me in." 

He didn’t speak, nearly yanking her from the booth. She pointed to her car when 
he had hauled her outside and he stuffed her into it and used his own key to 
start the engine. He stalled it twice before she finally spoke again. 

"Mulder, maybe I better drive. I don’t think. . . " 

He had it going then and peeled out into the street, nearly hitting a wino that 
was stumbling their way. She shut up; she was buckled, as was he. She’d just 
hang on and hope he calmed down before he got them both killed. 

She had obviously made a serious error in judgment. She’d overstepped her place 
in his life and it felt like she was being crushed by his silence. It had never 
been her intention to spy on him; she had wanted to help. Now. . . oh god, what 
had she done? 

The trip to his apartment was made in total silence except for the sound of her 
tires squealing as he made turns and abrupt stops. He pulled into a space in 
front of his own building and hesitated only when he realized he had used his 
keys and had to stop the engine in order to get into his apartment. He threw the 
car in park, yanked his keys from the ignition and vaulted from the car, not 
saying a word. 

She sat, not knowing what her next move should be. She had obviously damaged 
their relationship, and the trust he had in her. And she still didn’t know why. 
Who was this woman? An old girlfriend? Someone he’d arrested so he blamed 
himself for how her life turned out? What? 

Well, she couldn’t make it worse, so she was going up there. If he wanted her 
out of his apartment, he’d have to throw her out bodily. She didn’t even bother 
knocking, he’d never let her in. But her hands were shaking so that it took two 
tries to get the key in the lock. She took a deep breath to try to steady 
herself and entered. 

He was on the couch, his face in his hands. Oh god, he was crying. Mulder was 
crying. She wasn’t sure that he had heard her come in, but his gun was on the 
table, so he’d have time to recognize her if he went for it. If he didn’t want 
to shoot her, that is. 

"Mulder." She hesitated, then sat beside him on the couch. 

"You really don’t know how to take a hint, Scully." He didn’t look at her, just 
wiped his eyes with his hands and turned to look out the window. 

"I can’t stand to see you like this Mulder. You mean too much to me. Please, 
Mulder, talk to me. Why is she causing you this kind of pain?" 

A shiver ran through him and he rose from the couch. He had to put distance 
between them, he could feel her caring, her love for him and he couldn’t take it. 
He didn’t deserve it. 

"I can’t talk to you about this, Scully. Just go home. I’m fine." 

"Do you have any idea how it scares me that there’s something you can’t tell me? 
I thought we trusted each other enough to share everything." 

"Do you share everything with me? Did you share your feelings about your 
abduction, your cancer, Emily? No, you kept things to yourself and I let you. 
Why can’t you do the same for me?" 

She felt a little piece of her die at his words. Too much truth, yes she had 
kept things from him, but only to protect him. Was he trying to protect her? She’d 
done all she could, he wasn’t going to let her in and she’d been a fool to come 
here and try to force it. She rose from the couch and headed toward the door. 
Just before she reached for the knob she stopped. 

"I’m sorry, Mulder. I didn’t mean to intrude. But I have to say this, if she 
means that much to you, you should go to her." She watched his shoulders slump 
and turned back to the door. As she opened it he took a step toward her. 

"Scully." She hesitated, then turned back to him. "She’s Samantha." 

It took a moment for the true horror he was facing to sink in. "Oh my god." She 
remembered to shut the door before approaching him, her mind traveling in 
several thousand directions at once. 

"Mulder, are you sure? I mean, you’ve thought you found her before." She couldn’t 
resist touching his arm. Whatever comfort she could give was his. 

"This one’s human, Scully." He wouldn’t look at her, but at least he hadn’t 
brushed away her hand. 

"Let me do some testing, Mulder. DNA, do you have Samantha’s fingerprints?" He 
nodded. "Well?" 

"They match." 

"Where did you see her? What made you go to that diner?" 

"I got an email. I didn’t believe it, but you know me, I had to check. I pulled 
her record. It’s actually quite colorful. That’s when I ran the prints." 

"Have you spoken to her?" She was unaware her hand was now caressing his arm. 

He shook his head, "I don’t think I could take it if she tried to solicit. . . " 
He couldn’t repress the shudder that sent through him. 

"Oh Mulder." She led him back to the couch and sat beside him. "What do you know 
about her?" 

"Just what’s in her record. She’s been picked up for prostitution a dozen times, 
drug possession. She was on heroin, but apparently has been clean the last six 
months or so." 

Scully closed her eyes; it was so hard to see him in this kind of pain. She knew 
he felt guilty, he firmly believed that she had been chosen instead of him for 
unknown reasons. 

"Mulder." She pulled his head down to her shoulder and held him as he lost 
complete control, sobbing and clutching her to him. 

It was several minutes before he had control enough to speak. "I can’t. . . 
Scully, I can’t stand it. Why should she have had a life like that? She was just 
an innocent little girl. Why didn’t they take me, I was older, I could have. . . 
" 

"Mulder, I don’t know what to say to you. I can’t even imagine the pain this is 
causing you. Let me talk to her, you don’t have to be there." 

"No." He made a half-hearted attempt to pull away from her, but when her arms 
tightened around him he stopped. 

"Mulder it has to be done. You can’t go on like this; it’s killing you." He knew 
she was right, but he hadn’t wanted to drag her into this. "I want you to put 
this aside for tonight Mulder. When did you last sleep?" 

"I don’t know. For more than an hour? Days." 

"You should take something. . . " 

"Scully, I don’t want to take anything. It doesn’t help." 

"I’ll stay. You shouldn’t be alone." 

He looked at her, her compassion flowing into him. He hadn’t wanted her to know. 
But he couldn’t remember why. He already felt like he could survive this again. 
With her. 

"Mulder, go take a shower, get ready for bed. I’ll fix you a sandwich." 

"I’m not. . . " 

"Hungry." She finished for him. "Eat anyway. Go on." She tugged him to his feet. 
"It’ll make you feel better." 

He gave her a sad smile. He shouldn’t, but he needed her to stay with him 
tonight. He needed her to keep the nightmares away, at least for one night. 

He came back toweling his hair, wearing only his sweat pants. Once he got his 
hair dry enough, he slipped on a t-shirt. "All you had was tuna. I cut off the 
crusts and made iced tea." 

He wanted to make a quip, some joke no matter how lame, but his emotions were 
too raw, too close. She understood, nodding slightly and brought his food over 
to him. They didn’t talk, but the silence was comfortable again. 

She expected him to watch TV while she cleaned the kitchen. It desperately 
needed it, but he followed her and rinsed and dried while she washed. It 
occurred to her that he didn’t want to be alone, but decided she was 
overanalyzing and pushed the thought aside. 

Once they were back in the other room, he started pacing, words flowing from him. 
"She needs money, Scully. She wouldn’t do. . . that, if it weren’t for the money. 
The money Dad left me should be hers. Then she won’t have to. . . " 

"Mulder." At least he stopped pacing long enough to look at her. "You can’t give 
her money. If this really is Samantha. . . " She watched his shoulders stiffen. 
"Mulder, I’m not saying she isn’t but we have to check. But you can’t just give 
her money. She’s been off of heroin for six months, how long will that last if 
she’s suddenly given a large sum of money. Once we’re sure, we can help her. She 
could go to school, get a job away from here." 

"Why away?" 

"Mulder, she might want a fresh start. Be where she wouldn’t be recognized." He 
flinched slightly at that. 

"We know people all over the country. We could find a school, someplace. . . " 

"We?" 

"I may have come to the search twenty years late, but it’s my search now too." 

"Scully." He didn’t have any other words. He was awfully afraid he was going to 
cry again. She patted the couch beside her. 

"You’ve got to get some rest, Mulder. Come on, let me rub your shoulders." He 
didn’t speak, but he did join her. She pulled him down to rest on her shoulder, 
rubbing his arm lightly. 

***** 

It took a moment to orient herself when she woke. Oh yeah, she had fallen asleep 
on Mulder’s couch with Mulder. Well, under Mulder actually, it seemed. For two 
people who were used to sleeping alone, they had done a damn fine job of 
accommodating each other on this couch. He was nearly wrapped around her, his 
head on her breasts. She really should move, but even as the thought came to her 
he seemed to sense it and tightened his arms around her. 

Oh well, nothing had happened, except he’d apparently gotten some peaceful sleep 
for a change. Now he seemed to be dreaming, "Um, Scu. . . " He pressed his 
erection harder into her thigh, hiking his leg up for a better connection and 
his hand began caressing her breast. 

She couldn’t move. She knew she populated his nightmares, but not this kind of 
dream. Well, he was asleep, she couldn’t blame him for what he dreamed and he 
didn’t have to know how much she was enjoying it. Her hand found its way into 
his hair; he seemed to like that. Now he was nuzzling her breasts. She had to 
put a stop to this, she was enjoying it way too much and, face it, she was 
taking advantage of him when he was vulnerable. He had never wanted this before. 

"Mulder, Mulder you need to wake up." He protested that in nonsense terms, his 
body molding even closer to hers. In a minute he’d be inside her skin, one way 
or another. . . stop this, Dana. 

She shook him lightly. "Mulder, its morning." He was kissing her throat now, 
moving up. His lips canceled her next words; her eyes opened wide in 
astonishment. Was he good at everything? 

His eyes finally started opening as hers began drifting shut. Oh what the hell, 
they’d straighten this out later, she decided. 

As his mind finally began to process that this was real life and he really was 
lying atop Dana Scully he tensed. Not a good idea, part of him was tense enough 
already, thank you. Now what should he do? Leap to the other side of the room? 
He managed to look at her and she didn’t shy away, or even look angry. 

"Did you sleep well?" She didn’t dare show amusement. 

"Uh, probably the best ever." He swallowed, "Listen Scully. . " 

"Me too. Now I understand why you never use the bed. It’s very comfortable here. 
But I think we better be getting ready for work now. We have things to do." 

He gazed into her eyes, he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been for a long time he 
realized. If she could do this for him now, make him feel better now. . . well 
he was going to try to see how she really felt about this couch of his very very 
damn soon. 

They made it to work only a little late and he handed her the copy of the police 
record he had made. She tried to keep her features impassive as she read the 
information. He was so focused on her reactions and she needed to protect him, 
for now anyway. 

"Mulder, let me go talk to her. You don’t need to put yourself through this. I 
could. . . " 

"Scully." He shook his head and she sighed. She wasn’t surprised. 

"When do you want to go?" 

"Right now." 

"You’re assuming this is a correct address." 

"It is." She didn’t ask how he knew. 


Findings - Part 2 (NC-17) 

The neighborhood was a place she wouldn’t have come to alone. In spite of 
everything she was glad Mulder was there beside her. The elevator wasn’t working, 
so they climbed the three flights to the apartment. They were both dragging 
their feet but finally stood in front of the door. 

Scully stood in the center of the door, moving Mulder to the side. She knocked 
firmly and after a few minutes knocked again. She turned to Mulder and started 
to speak. The door opened slightly and the woman Scully had observed the evening 
before looked out. 

The night had been kind to her. In daylight her life showed in her face. She 
looked Scully up and down suspiciously, then spotted Mulder. The change was 
immediate. Her back arched and she inhaled, showing her breasts to their best 
advantage. She was wearing very little, a teddy and robe, if you could call it 
that. It was translucent with fake leopard skin trim. One of the seams was torn 
and Scully supposed it was meant to look sexy. It only looked sad. But her eyes. 
. . her eyes were Mulder’s eyes. So beautiful. Scully had to clamp down on the 
sob that threatened to escape her. Stay in control, Dana, you have to for him. 

"Well, hello." She had lowered her voice to sound sexier no doubt. She allowed 
the robe to drop from her shoulder and Mulder looked away. He desperately wanted 
to cover her up, not to have to see her like that. 

He couldn’t speak so Scully stepped between them again and placed her hand on 
the door to prevent the woman from closing it. 

"What? You want a threesome? It’ll cost extra." 

Mulder flinched, but Scully squared her shoulders. "We’re with the FBI. We need 
to ask you some questions." 

"FBI?" The door was jerked open to reveal the man in the apartment with her. 

If Scully had been casting the role of pimp, this is the man she would have 
chosen. He was only about 5’6", long greasy hair in a ponytail. Tattoos on both 
arms, making her own back tingle. He was shirtless and his jeans were barely 
held up by his hips, unbuttoned and as far as she could tell, no underwear. 

It was pretty obvious she and Mulder had interrupted them and they had thrown on 
just enough to come to the door. Mulder wasn’t sure which urge was stronger – to 
throw up or to slug him. He became aware of Scully's hand on his arm. 

Scully held up her badge. "Are you Sally Cooke?" 

"Why do you want to know?" He wouldn’t let the woman answer. 

"Miss Cooke could be a material witness in a missing persons case." 

"I prefer Jasmine." She pulled the robe back up over her shoulder. 

"Is she under arrest?" 

"No sir. We just want to ask her a few questions." They had originally planned 
to question her here. Now they couldn’t. She wasn’t going to let Mulder go into 
that room. She could see the bed from where she stood now that the door was open, 
and she could smell the activity. 

He’d lose his mind in there. She should have insisted he not come. 

"We need Miss Cooke to come downtown to answer a few questions. If you prevent 
that, we can return with a warrant. It would, however, look better if she 
cooperated." 

Mulder glanced at her. He still hadn’t spoken. She was changing the plans. It 
was probably to protect him, he decided, but he had to trust her. He could not 
handle this. Even he knew that at this point. 

"Well?" She needed to move this along. Mulder was beginning to tremble though he 
hadn’t seemed to notice. 

The short man jerked his head toward the apartment. "Get dressed, Jazz. You can 
go with them. I’ll pick you up in an hour." 

She nodded and retreated into the room. Mulder also retreated to the far side of 
the hall, as far from the open door as he could get. 

The pimp paid no attention to him, but began to assess Scully, giving her a 
complete once over with his eyes. When he took a step towards her Mulder was 
merely a blur coming between them, shoving the smaller man against the door jam. 

"Mulder!" She grabbed his arm. "It’s okay, Mulder." Where was the woman? She had 
to get him out of here. 

"Lloyd! What is it?" She’d thrown on a dress, taking only the time to put on her 
push-up bra. Scully was fairly certain she wore no panties under that dress. 

"Come on." She took the woman’s arm. She wanted, hell she needed to take his, 
but she couldn’t. Not now. At least she could hurry this procession up a little. 

She placed Sally in the backseat and noted that Mulder didn’t even attempt to 
take the driver’s side. 

"Sally?" 

"I told you, I prefer Jasmine." 

"Fine. How long have you been with Lloyd?" 

"Does the hunk here not speak?" Mulder stiffened but didn’t turn around. 

"Sal. . . Jasmine, please could you answer my question?" 

"Couple ‘a years. He inherited a bunch of us when Roland bought it. What’s that 
got to do with a missing person?" 

"We need to know how long you’ve been in DC." 

"’Bout four years." Mulder turned away to look out the window. 

"Before that?" 

"Atlanta. Look, what’s this about? Am I in some kind of trouble?" 

"How long were you in Atlanta?" 

"As far back as I can remember." 

He turned to look at Scully then.

"How far is that?" 

She looked between the two of them again. "Since I was twelve. Are you going to 
tell me who’s missing?" Those two were looking at each other again. "What is he, 
psychic? You two don’t need to talk?" 

He finally turned toward her. "You don’t remember before you were twelve?" 

"What do you care?" 

"It’s part of the case we’re working on, Jasmine. You could be a big help to us." 
Scully was doing the talking again. "When we get to the office we’re going to 
show you some pictures and see what you can remember." 

"Yeah, whatever." Jasmine subsided in the back and silently watched the traffic. 

When they had her in an interrogation room, Mulder found he could not sit, could 
barely face her. Scully spread several pictures of Samantha on the table in 
front of her. 

"Do you know this girl?" 

Jasmine glanced at them. "No." 

Mulder leaned on the table, forcing himself to look at her. "Please look again. 
Does she seem at all familiar?" 

She sighed and picked up the photos, giving them a closer look. "Look, I’m sorry. 
I don’t take Johns with kids along. I haven’t seen her." 

"Were you born in Atlanta?" 

"I don’t know." 

"What do you mean, you don’t know?" Scully asked. 

"Listen, I don’t know where I came from, okay? They found me on the streets of 
Atlanta. They put me in foster care and forgot about me." 

"Foster. . . foster care. How. . . how was that?" 

"Just peachy. The first guy waited three whole weeks before he raped me." 

Mulder turned away again. 

"Did anyone try to find out who you were?" Scully took over again. 

"I guess they tried, a little. No one ever told me. They just kept moving me 
from one foster home to another until I ran away for good. What does this have 
to do with the girl in the picture?" 

"Her name is Samantha Mulder." 

She glanced over at Mulder. "Your daughter?" 

"Sister." He spoke with no emotion. 

"Geez, how old is your mother?" 

"Jasmine, this girl disappeared in 1973." 

"And you’re still looking for her? Give it up, man. Okay, okay, so you think 
maybe she was in foster care with me? Well I don’t remember her and I usually 
hung around long enough to meet the other kids." 

"Could you. . . " 

"Mulder!" Scully stood, "Could I see you outside?" He hung his head and 
proceeded her out the door. Once outside she put her hand on his arm. "Don’t, 
Mulder. Not yet. Lloyd could use this information against you and her. Let me do 
the DNA testing first. I’m not going to ask for a blood sample, that’s giving 
too much away, but I can use hair and she won’t have to know it." 

He looked at the wall behind her and nodded. He turned back toward the door. "Don’t 
Mulder. Go to the office, I’ll meet you there." 

For once he listened to her and turned away. Scully reentered the room and told 
Jasmine she was free to go, but to make herself available for further 
questioning. She then put her hand on Jasmine’s back, to help her to her feet, 
getting her ring entangled in Jasmine’s hair in the process. 

"Wait, I’m sorry, my ring’s caught." 

"Oh, that’s okay. You got it?" 

"Yes, thanks. Listen, just between us, is Lloyd good to you? I mean, he doesn’t 
hit you or anything?" 

"Lloyd? He’s no better or worse than most of them. But I guess you don’t know 
about that. He doesn’t hit us usually, doesn’t want to damage the merchandise. 
He does let us keep a little money back – he hopes we use it for drugs, but I’m 
saving mine now. I really don’t want to go through the withdrawal again. I’ve 
got a bank account and everything, but he don’t know." 

"I think that’s a good idea, Jasmine. Here’s my card. If you need anything, or 
if you remember anything about Samantha, would you call me?" 

"Sure. Is he okay? I mean 25 years of looking for a little girl? He doesn’t 
really think she’s still alive does he?" 

"He just needs to know what happened to her. It would give him some peace, I 
think." 

"Do you think he’ll find her?" 

"He’s never going to find the little girl that was taken from his home that 
night. She doesn’t exist anymore." 

"Yeah, I guess that’s right. He must have really loved her." 

"He still does." 

***** 

Scully took the several strands of hair she had gotten from Jasmine by the lab 
on her way to check on Mulder. 

"Tom, I need a DNA analysis on these hairs as soon as possible." 

"I’ll see what I can do Dr. Scully. Do you have a case number?" 

"It’s an X-File, I’ll get it to you as soon as I can." 

Tom grinned, he really preferred to work on their cases. They were so 
unpredictable and having her drop by the lab was no hardship. "I’ll get right on 
it." 

"Thanks, Tom." She hurried on to the office. Mulder had been alone too long. 

He was in the office, staring into space. "Mulder?" He didn’t respond. He didn’t 
even seem to hear her. Oh god, could his mind take this? It had to; she had to 
save him. If she could figure out a way. 

She moved closer, not wanting to startle him but desperately wanting to comfort 
him. "Mulder?" 

"Is she gone?" He spoke clearly, no emotion in his voice. 

"Yes. Are you okay?" 

He ignored that. "Did you get the samples you needed?" 

"They’re in the lab now. Come on, you need to get out of here." 

"And go where, Scully?" He was right, there wasn’t a place he could go to get 
away from this horror. It was with him, inside of him, and it was eating him 
alive. Before she could formulate a response he spoke again. "I’ve been thinking 
about how I take her home and introduce her to Mom. Won’t that be a trip, Scully? 
Mom’s always been on the cold side, wonder how she’ll feel about this." 

"Mulder, stop." 

"Why, Scully? Shouldn’t I look for the humor in the situation? How would your 
Mom feel about finding her daughter like this?" 

Scully decided not to answer that. Her mother would be delighted to find her 
daughter alive no matter the circumstances. He was right about his own, though, 
she wouldn’t handle it in the same way. "Come on, Mulder. Let’s get out of here. 
We’ll go to my place, you can rest and I can work from there." 

"I’m not tired, Scully." 

"You need to get out of here anyway. Come on." She took his coat off the hanger 
and handed it to him. "Come on." 

He watched her approach him. She was trying so hard to help. He knew it, and he 
needed to accept it. After last night. . . she had helped him so much last night. 
Maybe she was right; it’s not like he was accomplishing anything here. 

He rose to his feet, towering over her, but feeling dwarfed by her strength and 
compassion. He took his jacket from her hand and followed her out the door. 

He really hadn’t spent all that much time at Scully’s apartment. Even when he 
was here, he only saw the living room. This time it was daylight and he wasn’t 
drowsy, so he wandered into the kitchen. Clean, neat, a table! Why did they 
always eat at her coffee table when he was here? Maybe she thought he’d be more 
comfortable. He owned a table – okay there was no room to eat on it, but he had 
one. Iced tea. He poured himself a glass, then one for her and took it out to 
her. 

"Thanks, Mulder. Making yourself at home?" 

"You mind?" 

"Not at all. Mi casa es su casa." He smiled down at her, he wished he could 
really take her up on that. He’d never leave. This place felt like a home, not a 
ceiling and walls like his place. And his kitchen – he was confident he didn’t 
even own a jello mold. He wouldn’t know what to do with one anyway. 

This was good, keeping his mind on Scully and her real life. She was smarter 
than he was – at least about real things. 

It was after four when Scully heard from the lab. The email from Tom held 
information she didn’t want to hear. She hated to admit it, but she’d been 
almost hoping for something unexplainable in the cellular DNA. This was 
completely straightforward. Now she needed to compare it to Mulder’s. Not the 
kind of thing she could trust to anyone else. She needed to go down to the 
office but could she leave him alone? He’d acted fine all afternoon, but she 
wasn’t naïve enough to think he really was okay. They’d been playing house – a 
mini vacation for him. 

Now she was going to have to bring him back to the present. There was no need 
for him to accompany her. He would be better off staying here. He certainly 
couldn’t help with the tests she was going to run, but would he listen to her? 

"Mulder, I need to run back to the office for a little while. Why don’t you hang 
around here? I won’t be long." 

He couldn’t really want to watch her work, and he knew it would take awhile. 
This stuff always bored him. But here he was, not underfoot but here. It was 
like in his kitchen the night before. He just didn’t want to be alone. Mulder 
was the biggest loner she’d ever met; this only showed how shaken he was with 
the revelations they’d found. 

She was now on the computer waiting for the results. When her answers came up 
she realized her shock was showing on her face and he was headed toward her. 

"What?" 

"Let me study this Mulder." 

"No! Tell me what you see." 

"She is your sister, Mulder. But I need to look at some other things." 

"Is she my sister, Scully, or my half-sister?" 

Her eyes widened, had she revealed that much? 

"Mulder, I. . . " 

"I don’t want to know anymore, Scully. Not about this." 

She would not cry, not in front of him. But that admission, he didn’t want to 
know more. She never thought she’d hear Mulder say that. She couldn’t think of 
anything to say, so she closed down her computer and packed her samples into her 
briefcase. This was not the kind of thing she could leave here. 

She held out her hand and he took it, gripping it like he would never let go. "Let’s 
go home Mulder." He nodded, too exhausted to speak. Once again she drove and 
headed back to her own apartment. They were silent on the drive. She couldn’t 
even imagine what he was thinking but she was so frightened for him. 

She led him to her apartment and took his jacket. "I want you to take a shower 
Mulder, try to relax." He didn’t answer, but went on into her bathroom when she 
pointed him that way. She heard the water go on and turned herself to go into 
the kitchen. She fixed him some hot tea and laced it liberally with bourbon. 
Since he didn’t drink as a rule, maybe it would relax him. She sank into the 
chair and sat staring at the mugs, not seeing them at all. Could he recover from 
this? And as selfish as it sounded, what would she do if he couldn’t? 

She didn’t hear him enter the room, but felt his hands on her shoulders, rubbing 
them, giving her comfort. She turned to look up at him. "Feel better?" 

He shrugged and slipped into the chair beside her. He had slipped back on his 
sweatpants, but no shirt. She handed him his mug of tea and watched his eyes 
widen after the first sip. 

"You think I need this?" 

"I think you need to relax and get some sleep. A hot toddy won’t hurt." 

"I take it I’m not driving anywhere." 

"No. You’re in for the night." 

He nodded and fell silent again, sipping at the warm beverage. 

"I’m going to take a bath, if you left me any hot water. Make yourself at home." 
She rose from the chair and his hand caught hers. She stopped, wondering what he 
wanted but she couldn’t read his eyes. She gave him a questioning smile to which 
he responded with an almost imperceptible nod. Then he let go of her hand and 
she took her mug with her to the bathroom. 

She heard the TV go on as she sank down in the hot scented water. The bathroom 
was already steamy from his shower and she could imagine him standing in here, 
the water sluicing down his body, trying to remove the dirt that had clung to 
him this day. Had it only been this morning that she had woken in his apartment? 
It felt like at least a week. She didn’t even realize she was crying until a 
tear splashed onto her breast. No way could she let him see her like this. She 
had to be strong for him, help him, but she’d never felt more helpless. 

Scully forced herself from the tub and wrapped her robe around her. She took a 
deep breath and opened the door. Immediately she felt his eyes on her, but he 
said nothing, just watched her walk to her bedroom. She dressed in t-shirt and 
boxers then wrapped herself again in her robe and joined him in front of the TV. 

"I don’t know about you, but the drink is making me sleepy." Scully tried to 
hide her yawn. 

"Go on to bed. I’ll make sure everything’s locked up." 

"No, I want to stay here with you. If I fall asleep, who cares." His eyes were 
locked onto hers again and she barely managed to repress the shudder that caused. 
He tucked her up against him, his chin resting on her hair and turned back to 
the TV. He hadn’t protested her desire to stay beside him, accepting her 
presence as it was meant. 

She woke to the feeling of floating through the air and realized he was carrying 
her to bed, rather than wake her. He placed her gently on the bed and loosened 
the sash from her robe. She helped to shrug it off and as he turned to leave, 
took his hand and scooted over in the bed to give him room. 

He looked at her for a moment, then removed his sweat pants and crawled in 
beside her, again pulling her close to him. 

She woke to his agitated movements. He wasn’t crying out, unusual for him, just 
fighting the dream physically. Then she spotted the tears running down his face. 
Her heart broke for the pain he was in and she drew him closer to her, rocking 
him, murmuring loving sounds into his ear. He began to calm down and slip back 
into a more peaceful sleep. 

Scully lay awake, watching him sleep, knowing she was bringing him some rest, 
some security. When she woke the next morning, he wasn’t in the bed and she felt 
a moment of panic until she heard him approaching the door. 

He pushed it open with his hip, both hands occupied with hot coffee. He had put 
back on his sweatpants, but hadn’t bothered yet with razor or brush. He smiled 
when he saw she was awake and sat carefully beside her, giving her time to sit 
up before handing her the cup. 

"Thanks." She took a sip. Perfect. 

"My one culinary achievement. But it’s you that deserves the thanks." 

"What?" 

"These last two nights, having you. . . with me. I think it’s the only reason I 
survived." 

"Mulder. . . " He held up his hand. 

"I’m going to Atlanta, Scully. I do need to know some things, even if I can’t 
face everything right now. I wanted you to know where I’d. . . " 

"When do we leave?" 

She watched him sag with relief. "I didn’t want to assume. . ." 

"Like you could ditch me now." She smiled up at him and it took all of his 
remaining strength not to throw her down and kiss her until they both were 
fighting for breath. Not now, not yet. He’d come to realize over the last couple 
of days that his feelings for her were way beyond his control, if they ever had 
been. 

The problem was he felt he had less and less to offer a woman, any woman, but 
especially this one. He pushed that aside; he had to deal with this now, Atlanta, 
Samantha. He couldn’t handle any more, he just hoped she understood. 

Her hand brushed against the stubble on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned 
into her palm, unabashedly drinking in her strength. 

After a few moments she broke the silence. "Mulder? When’s our flight?" 

"Um? Oh, in a couple of hours. I’m going to need to go by my apartment on the 
way." 

"Okay, I pack quickly, let me get dressed." When he didn’t make a move to rise, 
she placed her finger under his chin. "Go in the other room, Mulder. There are a 
couple of things I can’t let you watch, yet." 

It took a second for her words to sink in, when they did he found himself unable 
to rise. Yet? Had she really said yet? For the first time in days she saw a 
smile, a real smile, grow on his face. 

"Go on. Or we’ll miss our plane." This time he obeyed her, rising to his feet 
and taking her cup from her hands. He retreated from the bedroom with a much 
lighter step than when he entered. 

He washed the cups waiting for her to emerge from her room. This trip wasn’t 
going to be easy for either of them. But he had to know; eventually he had to 
know everything. He turned as he heard her approach him. This outfit wasn’t what 
she normally wore, no severe suit? This was a dress. It looked good on her too. 

"You ready, Mulder?" 

With her beside him? Sure. 



Findings - Part 3 (NC-17) 

It was amazing the doors an FBI badge opened. No red tape impeded them as they 
were escorted into the director’s office in Atlanta. 

They introduced themselves to the matriarchal woman seated behind the large, and 
very clean, desk. Scully was captivated by the woman’s hair. Who was that woman 
who had spoken at the national democratic convention in Texas? They had the same 
hair. Must be a southern thing. 

She asked her assistant to locate Sally’s file and offered coffee and muffins 
while they waited. Scully attempted polite conversation, but Mulder was too 
wired to even pretend patience. When the secretary returned with the obviously 
aged file Scully almost had to grab him to keep him in his seat. 

"Now, how can I help you?" Mrs. Beauchamp drawled. 

"We need. . . " Scully did place her hand on his arm then. No need to antagonize 
the woman with his first words. 

"We’re looking for information about Sally Cooke. She was found on the streets 
of Atlanta and brought to your offices in November of 1977." 

The older woman had opened the file and was nodding. "Do you have any 
information about her prior to her being brought here." 

"I’m sorry, Miss Scully, but we weren’t able to find anything out about her. I'm 
sure the police did their very best, but we never did find out where that dear 
child came from." 

Mulder closed his eyes and turned away for a moment. "Do you have the name of 
the family where she was first placed?" He managed to keep his tone civil, but 
Scully glanced at him afraid. 

"Why I believe I do. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Aarons." 

"Do you have a current address for Mr. Aarons?" 

For the first time the woman’s composure seemed strained. "Mr. Aarons passed 
away four years ago." 

"In prison?" Mulder bit out. 

"No sir. As far as I know Mr. Aarons never spent any time in prison." But her 
face had more color now and her posture had become defensive. 

"Was Sally the only child that accused him of rape?" 

Mrs. Beauchamp wouldn’t meet his eyes now. "We protect our children to the best 
of our abilities, Mr. Mulder." 

"Did anyone even investigate her claim? Did he only rape the girls or did he go 
after the boys too?" 

"Mulder. . ." He was losing control and while she didn’t blame him, it wouldn’t 
do any good. 

"Mr. Mulder, times have changed in the last twenty years. We have different 
methods and more protective laws than we used to. No system is perfect, we do 
the best we can." 

"Agent Mulder and I would like to go through Sally’s file. We need all of the 
information we can find to try to close a missing person case." 

"I’m not suppose to let. . . " 

"We can get a court order in a couple of hours." Mulder’s voice was flat. 

Mrs. Beauchamp wanted to glare at him, but knew it was a battle she would not 
win. "I can’t allow the file to leave the building." Her head when up and her 
regal posture returned. 

Scully spoke before Mulder could, "That would be fine. If we could have an 
office to go over the information, we’ll get out of your way." 

Scully met her eyes and did not blink. The woman pressed the intercom key and 
asked her secretary to take them to the conference room. Well, not exactly 
cordial, but they’d gotten what they wanted. She and Mulder rose and she took 
the file from the woman’s desk. 

At the door Mulder paused and turned back. "How did Mr. Aarons die?" 

She almost didn’t answer, but finally, grudgingly, "Prostate cancer." 

Mulder didn’t say a word, but Mrs. Beauchamp’s face colored at the gleam in his 
eye. After they had gotten into the hall, Mulder whispered to Scully, "Maybe, 
sometimes, there is a little justice." 

She wanted to punch him and tell him to keep quiet but since she happened to 
agree with him, she only gave him a small, tight smile. 

Once in the conference room they spread the information in the file out and 
divided it between them. Mulder read the police reports and Scully checked out 
the medical exams. They were both silent for a while, going over the information 
in front of them. 

Finally Mulder exploded. "Nothing! They didn’t do a damn thing to try to locate 
her family or her past!" He shoved a handful of papers off the table with his 
arm and shoved the chair back. "They didn’t even try!" 

He finally looked up at Scully to see her reaction and froze. "Scully, Scully 
what?" He was whispering by the time he finished and had sunk back into his 
chair. 

She couldn’t hide this from him, but how in hell did she say it? 

"They wouldn’t have listened to her about Mr. Aarons, Mulder. They discounted 
her story completely." His eyes questioned her. He had no voice. 

She took a deep breath, "According to the medical exam done when she was found, 
she had already had at least one pregnancy." She watched the color leave his 
face. Was he going to pass out? 

"She was. . . she was only twelve years old." His gaze had gone inward now, 
visualizing the little girl that had been stolen from his care that night. 

Her hand was on his shoulder. "Let’s get out of here Mulder. We’re not going to 
find anything. Please. Maybe later we can come back, but now you’ve got to leave." 

He looked up into her eyes and she saw the depth of his pain in his. There had 
been too much information, too many blows to his psyche. He was going to implode 
with all of the findings they had made in the last couple of days. She needed to 
get him to a safe place and make sure the damage was external and not internal. 
Now how the hell was she supposed to do that? 

She quickly gathered up the papers from the floor and closed the file. She 
returned them to the secretary’s desk, explaining that they would have to return 
at a later date then hurried to retrieve Mulder and get him to the car. She didn’t 
know Atlanta, where could they go? The hotel first, to change, she’d ask there. 

He followed her obediently to the car, not talking, sunk deep into his own 
despair. Once in his room she rummaged through his suitcase and found his 
running shorts and a t-shirt. 

"Here, Mulder. Put these on." She shoved them into his hands. 

"What? I don’t want. . . " 

"Put them on Mulder. I’ll be right back." She retreated to her own room and 
called the desk. After making sure she had the directions straight she changed 
into jeans herself and returned to him. He had changed and was sitting on the 
bed, staring into space. "Come on, let’s go." 

"Scully, I don’t want to run." 

"Come on." Ignoring his wishes she pulled him to his feet and herded him into 
the elevator. She found the track with no problem and forced him from the car. 

"Scully, I don’t want to run. I don’t feel like running, do you hear me?" He was 
beginning to lose his temper. 

"Yes I hear you!" Her face turned up to his, her eyes flashing with fire. "Now 
go ahead and do it anyway!" 

He actually backed up a step from her. What did she think she was doing? He didn’t 
feel like. . . oh what the fuck. He started out around the track, slowly 
building a little speed. This was stupid, why was he letting her talk him into 
this? If he didn’t feel like doing something, she had no right to force him. Who 
did she think she was anyway? She wasn’t in charge of him; okay maybe she was 
helping him out right now, but. . . She was no better than that bitch at the 
agency, the one that hadn’t protected the kids she was in charge of, forcing 
them to live with evil and pain. Forcing them to put up with the pain and the 
degradation, not believing them when they said no, they didn't want. . . Forcing 
them. Not listening when they said they’d been violated. 

Scully sat on the bleachers watching him run. His speed had increased steadily 
and now he was running flat out. Too bad she didn’t have a stopwatch, he was 
probably breaking records out there. She had watched his anger build along with 
his speed. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake here, what if she forced him 
into a heart attack? Well, she was here and could get him help but he was 
getting it out of his system, at least for a little while. 

Now she was becoming concerned. How long could he run like that without hurting 
himself? It was time to stop him. As compulsive as he was he might not stop on 
his own until he literally dropped dead. It already looked like he was beginning 
to stagger. She rose from her seat as he rounded the far turn and started down 
the track to meet him. 

He saw her approaching him but wasn’t sure if he could stop, he wasn't sure he 
even should stop. But he couldn’t mow her down and she certainly wasn’t moving 
out of his way. 

They both realized he was falling at about the same time and she moved forward 
swiftly to support him. She was able to slow his descent and they landed 
together on the track. She held him as he tried to get his breath. Then she 
realized he was sobbing in her arms, completely out of control. 

Good. This was the best thing for him. It was what she had hoped would happen 
when she pushed him like that. Let the poison pour out of him. She sat and 
rocked him, holding him close as she had that night on his couch. This storm 
took a great deal longer to end, but she would sit there all night if it would 
help. 

She realized his breathing had changed and looked down to make sure he was okay, 
just in time for him to take possession of her lips with his own. Her mind was 
too stunned to react. Her body had no such restrictions and she opened herself 
to him, sucking on his tongue as it probed her mouth. Responding openly to his 
hands that were clutching her to him. 

One of them needed to get this under control or he’d be taking her right here on 
the track. While there was a certain pleasure to that thought, being arrested 
and having to explain it to Skinner didn’t seem wise. 

"Mulder." The taste of his name on her lips was the most arousing thing he had 
ever felt. 

"Scully, I can’t. . . " 

"Not here, Mulder. Come on, let’s go back to the room." 

He could only hope that he nodded. He did agree but his senses, his abilities 
were totally overwhelmed. She had to help him to his feet and half carry him to 
the car, where he collapsed gratefully. 

She was pretty sure his eyes never left her the entire trip back to the hotel. 
She wasn’t sure what he was seeing but he was calmer, more sure of his movements, 
back in some sort of control. 

Once back in the room he turned to her, standing much too close, but not 
touching her. "I can’t change the past." 

"No, you can’t." 

"But I can make it better in the future." 

She smiled then, "Yes." 

"And you’re here now." 

"Yes, I am." He still didn’t touch her, but she could feel the air vibrate 
between them. 

"I’m going to take a shower, please wait for me." She nodded not sure what to 
say. He took a step back away from her and it took all of her strength not to 
follow him. Then he was gone. 

She stood there not sure what do to. She couldn’t kid herself about what was 
going to happen here. She was frightened she realized, not about the act or even 
Mulder, but the inevitableness of the act, the commitment it implied. She knew 
Mulder loved her as she loved him, but she wasn’t naive to think that was enough. 
Mulder was Mulder; things would never be easy with him. As if she hadn’t already 
made a choice, somehow she’d known this was her future since that night on their 
first case when she had run to him instinctively to be reassured and bared her 
body as well as her soul to him. 

She hadn’t realized how long she had stood there, unmoving, until the door 
opened and he was coming toward her clad only in a towel. He stopped a small 
distance from her, taking in her fear. 

"Scully?" She met his eyes and he relaxed a little. "I will try so hard to never 
hurt you." 

She smiled then, "Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Just promise to be Mulder 
for me, okay?" 

Now he approached her. Finally she felt his arms around her, molding her to him. 
His lips, this was not a comforting kiss, not this time. This was a man 
demanding his woman. His hands had pulled her t-shirt from her jeans and they 
broke long enough for him to remove it from her body. He didn’t even fumble with 
the clasp of her bra, removing it gently and finding himself unable to tear his 
eyes away from the perfection of her breasts. Now her hands were in play, her 
fingers lightly outlining the bullet wound in his left shoulder. He shivered at 
her touch, was this really happening? It must be, his dreams never came close to 
this kind of perfection. 

More, he wanted more of her, so he sank to his knees, released the button of her 
jeans and began easing them down over her hips. His lips followed, his tongue 
investigating her navel and moving down. 

She couldn’t remember ever being so aroused. Was this even legal? She had to 
grip his shoulders to remain on her feet. Then she was in his arms and they were 
on his bed, she in just her panties and him in the towel. 

He gently eased the damp silk from her body. Not fair, she reached for the towel 
still separating them. Oh my god! Her mind tried to tell her it had just been so 
long since she had seen a man fully aroused that she was only imagining he was 
so large. Her body knew better. 

"It’s okay, Scully. It’s okay." He continued his downward movement toward her 
core, his tongue flicking at all the secret places she had hidden from him for 
so long. 

He was right, it would be okay. It was already so much better than okay she 
thought she would die from it. If his mouth could do this to her, how would she 
survive more? Of course he was the most oral man she’d ever known. It was 
obvious he knew what he was doing. 

Now his fingers were moving along her inner thigh as his tongue continued its 
dance with her clitoris. She could feel the tension building in her body, 
totally beyond her control, beyond even her fantasies. She’d never been this out 
of control. 

"Mulder!" He was there, holding her, guiding her back to reality. His hands 
gentling her as though she were a wild animal that had just been captured. Maybe 
she was. 

"Mulder?" 

"Right here. I’m not going anywhere." She buried her face in his neck, wanting 
to burrow into him and never come out. Her body vibrating from the orgasm that 
was still pulsing through her body. "You okay?" 

She nodded, the only word she could still form was his name. Her body however 
was already missing him and she reached for his cock. 

"Scu. . ." Her warm hand wrapped around him causing him to lose the ability to 
speak. This really was Scully, caressing him! It was the only thing his mind 
could process. And god, she knew what she was doing. 

Now she was moving down his body. He wasn’t sure he could handle that and he 
wanted. . . oh god he wanted to be inside of her. 

"Scully." She looked up at him and understood his need immediately. She could 
give him this other pleasure later. Now suddenly she needed him inside of her as 
much as he needed it. She pulled him back as he started to leave the bed. 

"No." Her eyes were confused. 

"In the suitcase. . . I need. . .Scully, stop that!" 

"We don’t need that, Mulder. Please. . . " 

She had hold of him and he wasn’t leaving now. He had to slow down, he’d waited 
too long for this. No way would he allow himself to be rushed now. 

He allowed her to lead him to her center and slowly began entering her. God, he 
might not be able to finish this. She was almost painfully tight and what sweet 
pain. He could feel her stretch to accommodate him and he wanted to give her 
time. He didn’t know how long it had been for her, didn’t want to know, but he 
sensed it had been as long as it had been for him. And then he was completely 
sheathed within her. 

He hesitated, he wanted this to last and right now he needed to regain control. 
She was so tight, so hot, God! He watched her face, her eyes were mostly closed. 
He could see the barest glint of blue in her eyes. Her lips were swollen and 
bruised and her nipples were peaked in hard little nubs. Because of him, all 
because of him! He could die happy right this minute. 

She opened her eyes then and smiled at him. Well, maybe not right this minute. 
He slowly began to ease out of her and then returned, giving them both time to 
adjust. He didn’t know this land beyond sex, he had to explore it carefully and 
not miss a thing. 

She had her hands on his chest, her fingers everywhere. She rose up and laved 
his nipples. "Scully, stop. . . I can't. . ." Slow this down, Mulder! He pulled 
back as though to leave her body and she moaned, wrapping her legs around him to 
prevent such an action. 

He was so close, but he wanted her with him. He reached between them to further 
stimulate her and was rewarded with the incredible tightening of her body as she 
arched and gave complete control to him. He was aware of this for seconds before 
his own body joined in the fireworks and shot out of control with hers. 

The blood was roaring in her ears and she wasn’t sure where her body ended and 
his began. She had been no virgin, but this felt like they had. . . merged. She 
opened her eyes to see the look of awe on his face and realized that she was not 
alone with this discovery. And neither of them would ever be alone again. 

***** 

Denouement 

"What’s the catch?" She was totally suspicious. 

"The catch is, you have to stay clean, attend classes and probably send your 
grades to him." Scully responded. 

"Why is he doing this for me?" Not backing down an inch. 

"Because he links you with his sister. If he can’t help her, he wants to do it 
for you. If you agree." 

"Here?" 

"Well, he thought you might want to move somewhere new, somewhere no one knows 
you." 

"A clean start?" Now Scully could tell she had her attention. 

"You’d need to get your GED." 

"Oh, I already have that." She caught Scully's look of surprise before she could 
disguise it. "There's not a whole lot to do during the day and I love to read. 
It was just something to do." Jasmine shrugged, a little embarrassed. 

Scully kept quiet, but she was feeling better and better about this arrangement 
she and Mulder had worked out. After Jasmine was settled and away from her past, 
telling her the whole truth would probably be the right thing to do. They would 
just have to be gentle, play it by ear. Soon, very soon, she didn’t think she’d 
have to protect him from the sight of her. She already seemed to be sitting up 
straighter. Jasmine was much too smart for what she was doing. Well, she was a 
Mulder and even the ones that hadn't always gone where they wanted to in life 
were still damn intelligent. 

"If I'm going to start over, Lloyd won't know where I am, will he?" 

"No. You can change your name, your appearance. We'll never give him any 
information about you." 

"Change my name again? I never could stand Sally, they named me that at the 'holding 
pen' in Atlanta." 

"Well, now you can choose anything you want." 

"Look, since I'm kind of a substitute for his sister, do you think he'd mind if 
I used Samantha? I mean," she hurried on before Scully could interrupt her, "when 
he finds her I'll give it back. And. . . and when he finds her he can quit 
helping me too. Maybe I won't need his help by then and. . . " 

"Don't worry about that now. If he finds her, I know he'll still want to help 
you. And I think he would be honored if you really wanted to use her name." Keep 
your voice steady, Dana. Don’t let her know how this is affecting you. 

"You don't think he'd mind?" 

"I can guarantee you he won't. Look, Jas. . . Samantha, do you need some time to 
think about this?" 

"What? No! No, I want to do this. I was just thinking, what if I let him down?" 

"You won't." Scully smiled at her. Samantha smiled back and held out her hand. 

"You're right, I won't. For this first time since I was twelve years old, I feel 
like I've been found." Her smile grew even bigger. "It feels good."