From: quark <bluechaos22@yahoo.com>
Date: Sat, 7 Sep 2002 22:41:03 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Just Lucky by Quark
Source: direct

Title:		Just Lucky
Author: 	Quark
E-Mail:		bluechaos22@yahoo.com
Spoiler:	random ones maybe?!
Rating:		R - language, torture, rape(not too graphic)
Category:	X, T, A
Keywords: 	Mulder/Scully UST, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst,
		ScullyTorture, MulderTorture
Summary:	A mysterious murder case turns into a torturous 
		angst-fest.
Disclaimer:	I am not a cali-surferdude and therefore I do 
		not have a lot of money and therefore I do not 	
		own these characters and I can't imagine that I 
		could make money at this even if I tried. So 
		I'm not trying. They belong to Chris Carter, 
		Fox, and 1013 et al.
Author's Notes:	This is my first fanfic and it is pure cheesy
		goodness. So feedback is welcome if you want
		to comment but don't tell me that it's too 
		cheesy, sappy, angsty etc. - you have been 
		forewarned. Oh and I don't claim to know 
		anything about any of the science, logistics, 	
		murder investigations, or any of that so if I 
		got some stuff wrong, call it artistic license. 
		And don't tell me that I use too many dashes - 
		as if I don't already know. So sit back and 
		enjoy the angsty cheese.      


Just Lucky
By Quark

F.B.I. Headquarters
Washington, DC
7:41 am

For once the basement office was dark and silent when Special 
Agent Dana Scully arrived in the morning with coffee in hand. 

'Ha - he's late,' she thought to herself. 'I'll have to 
remember to bug him about that when he gets here.'

She grinned at the thought, opened the door and was reaching to 
turn on the light when she was stopped short with a "Hey  
Scully," that came out of the darkness.

"Jesus Mulder!" she exclaimed with a startled gasp before 
finally managing to switch on the light. "What the hell are you 
doing  sitting here in the dark?"

She examined her partner closely as he carefully considered his 
answer and what she saw was that Special Agent Fox Mulder had 
just woken up. His hair was messier than usual - indeed, it was 
sticking up in all directions and had a hint of greasy shine to 
it. His shirt was wrinkled - tie long since removed, top 
buttons undone, sleeves rolled up haphazardly - and Scully was 
willing to bet her next paycheque that it was the same shirt 
he'd been wearing the previous day. But all that was of 
secondary concern to her when she saw the look in Mulder's 
eyes - one of childish excitement that did its best to hide the 
underlying lack of sleep. 

"Um... I was thinking," he finally answered, knowing full well 
that she would see through his facade. 

"You were sleeping," she countered. 

He looked at her intently, a 'no I wasn't' on the tip of his 
tongue before he grinned and sighed all at once. There was no 
point in arguing - she knew him too well and, besides, she was 
right. 

"Okay, but before that I was thinking," he replied, still 
grinning mischievously.

She gave him a patented Scully-look before finally giving in. 
"Okay Mulder, I'll bite - what were you thinking about all 
night?"

"This," he said as he slid a file over to her.

She picked the file up warily, always too aware of how many 
misadventures had begun exactly in this fashion, and glanced at 
the label before opening it. 

"Mulder, this isn't even an X-File," she said as she looked 
through a wad of photos and reports.

"It is now," he replied.

"When did you get this?" she asked even though she already knew 
the answer - anything to delay his unbounded enthusiasm and 
unfounded theories until her coffee was done. 

"Last night, right after you left, someone slipped it under the 
door."

She eyed him suspiciously - "that's odd,"

"Scully, we're all about odd."

She shot him a dirty look. "You're  all about odd, Mulder."

"Scully, you wound me!" he exclaimed, feigning shock. "I though 
we were in this together."

She looked up from the file and closed it, a snappy comeback 
almost out of her mouth when his eyes changed her mind. Instead 
of the sarcasm he expected, as she handed the file back, she 
lightly gripped his fingertips with hers. - "always," she said 
seriously.

For a split second he was speechless, amazed at her ability to 
still surprise him when he least expected it and then  all he 
could do was give her a winning smile of heartfelt pleasure 
until the moment was broken with the ring of the phone. Scully 
let his hand drop as she reached for the phone.

"Scully," she answered, her eyes still on Mulder. She listened 
for a second and then replied "Yes sir," before hanging up.

Mulder raised his eyebrows questioningly - "Skinner?" he asked.

Scully nodded. "He wants us in his office in fifteen minutes."

"I wonder what he wants," Mulder mused.

"I don't know but I bet he'll be more willing to tell us if you 
get dressed before we get to his office."

Mulder scowled. "I am dressed ... sort of."

Scully grinned - a rare moment that he enjoyed viciously - and 
replied "Mulder, you look like something the cat dragged in."

He grinned. "Why Agent Scully, you know I can't resist your 
compliments," he said with a classic Mulder leer in his eyes.

Arching one eyebrow at him, she grabbed her coffee and stood 
up.  "I'll meet you there," she said as she walked out the door 
chugging her much-needed dose of caffeine.
	
			******
AD Skinner's Office
FBI Headquarters
8:10 am

She was waiting for him when he arrived in Assistant Director 
Skinner's office fifteen minutes later - still dressed in the 
previous days' clothes but looking slightly more presentable 
with a jacket and tie on and with his hair marginally behaving 
after being lightly slicked down. Still, Kimberly, Skinner's 
assistant, did not look at all impressed when she glanced his 
way and as the agents entered Skinner's office she made a 
mental not to add 'another all-nighter in the basement for 
Spooky Mulder' to the office gossip pool.

Mulder and Scully sat in front of Skinner's desk - a familiar 
position that did not always evoke the kindest memories. This 
time, however, the agents were relatively relaxed = they had no 
misadventures of late to account for - though the AD still 
looked slightly stressed. 

"Agents," he nodded in greeting."

"Good morning sir," they replied - first Mulder, then Scully.

"Agents, a case has recently been brought to my attention - one 
in which your particular expertise may be of use," he reached 
for a file on his desk and handed it to Mulder. "I understand 
that you are not actively engaged on any other cases at the 
moment and your involvement in this particular case has been 
specifically requested by the Seattle Field Office."

Skinner may as well have never said anything - Mulder had 
stopped listening the moment he opened the file - and Scully, 
sensing Mulder's inattention, was also distracted, trying to 
get a glimpse of the file in his hands.

"Agents?" - apparently Skinner had gone on to say something 
they had been expected to reply to. "Is there something I 
should know about?" He asked even though he wasn't sure he 
wanted to know - no one brought more trouble to his office than 
the two agents in front of him at the moment, but they somehow 
also made him care a little too much about what happened to 
them. 

Both agents snapped to attention guiltily. "Sorry sir," they 
said in unison, both hiding small smiles at their shared 
inattention. 

"Agents?" Skinner repeated quizzically.

A quick glance at each other was all the conversation Mulder 
and Scully needed to come to a decision. 

"Sir, a copy of this file was slipped under our door at the end 
of the day yesterday," Mulder explained, silently agreeing with 
his partner that there seemed to be no reason to lie to their 
superior if the file was coming their way through official 
channels. 

Skinner raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Was there an 
explanation included with the file?"

"No sir."

"And you have no knowledge of who sent it to you?"

"No sir."

"Do you have any idea why someone would bring you this 
particular case?"

"No sir."

Removing his glasses, Skinner rubbed his eyes wearily as he 
considered the strange situation at hand. While no harm had 
been done, protocol and security had been breached. 
Furthermore, there was the concern that this case was a set-up 
of some sort for his agents - a strong source of concern 
considering their particular track record in being involved in 
high-stakes set-ups. But there was nothing to be accomplished 
by trying to take Mulder and Scully off the case - especially 
if he was correct in reading Mulder's mood. The man was like a 
boy who had yet to learn to hide his emotions, even when it was 
in his best interest to do so and now his fidgety body 
language, the gleam in his eyes, spoke loudly though his voice 
remained silent. 

"Sir?" Scully was the first to break the silence. "While it is 
strange that someone deemed it necessary to bring this 
particular file to our attention secretly, both Agent Mulder 
and myself have studied the file and there seems to be no 
reason to believe that there is some hidden agenda behind 
involving us in this case."

Skinner heard her words and nodded absently - she always knew 
exactly what to say to confirm his own thoughts and to 
alleviate any doubts he harboured. 'In fact,' he mused, 'it was 
almost uncanny - her level-headedness - except when dealing 
with her partner's particular situations - combined with a 
strength of will unmatched in his experience except by Mulder. 
Wryly Skinner allowed himself a second to consider what would 
have happened had either agent lacked the intensely stubborn 
spirit that held them together so strongly - disaster was the 
only answer he could come up with.

"At this point in time I have to agree with you, agents," even 
as he spoke Skinner realized that he had taken Scully's words 
as if they had been spoken jointly by the two agents. 
"Therefore, you will be travelling to Seattle this morning. 
Kimberly has your travel arrangements ready."

"Yes sir," the agents nodded together. "Is that all sir?" 
Mulder asked.

"Yes, that is all," Skinner nodded. However, as the agents 
turned towards the door, Mulder's arm gently touching Scully's 
back, unconsciously leading her, he was compelled to add 
"Agents, be careful out there."
"Yes sir," Mulder answered, knowing full well that, for them, 
being careful was about as useful as crossing one's fingers in 
hope of good luck - likely to be futile but attempted on the 
remote possibility that it would work. 

			******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
8:29 am


Walking back towards their office, Mulder, still absently 
guiding Scully with a light touch, grinned in pure excitement 
and strode with a slight bounce in his step. Scully, though 
slightly perturbed over the already weird circumstances 
concerning their newest case, could not help but grin inwardly 
at her partner's boyish glee. Acting on impulse - a rare 
occasion for the normally serious and stoic agent - Scully 
slipped to her right, away from Mulder so that she was slightly 
out of his reach and, as he let his hand drop from the small of 
her back, caught his hand in hers, gripping it tightly. 

Mulder felt the warmth of her small hand and looked down at his 
partner - surprised but extraordinarily happy - and happier 
still when she glanced up at the same instant and flashed a 
quick smile. 

Leaning down, his lips just above her ear, he whispered "Agent 
Scully, don't you think this is inappropriate workplace 
behaviour? Some would call this sexual harassment."

She ignored his comment just as he knew she would and as they 
walked on, hand in hand, he was vividly aware that each moment 
provoked dozens of new office rumours about Mr. and  Mrs. 
Spooky - rumours that Scully especially despised. Just as 
vividly, he grinned as he walked, satisfied in knowing that 
Scully knew the rumour-generating figures as well as he did and 
that she was ignoring her normally strict code of conduct 
because of him, because she felt his excitement. 

Arriving in the basement office they reluctantly let their 
hands drop from the companionable grip and sat facing each 
other, ready to discuss the case at hand. 

"So what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked. 

"This is weird, Mulder - why would someone secretly contact you 
about a case that we were already going to be assigned to?" 
Scully asked, raising the obvious point. 

"Unless whoever it was was trying to make sure we got the case 
and didn't know for sure that we would be involved through 
official channels," Mulder said.

"Do you think it's a set-up?" Scully questioned.

Mulder shrugged. "I don't know - maybe whoever sent me this 
file just wants the case solved for personal reasons and 
thought that we could help."

Scully eyed her partner sceptically  - it was a rare occasion 
when Mulder let common sense get the better of his innate 
paranoia.

"You're just saying that so I'm not worried about heading right 
into a set-up," she countered.

Mulder internally winced but kept a steady expression of pure 
innocence on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking 
about Scully, I don't see any reason to believe that this is a 
set-up," he said.

"Except for the fact that..." Scully cut herself off, slightly 
shaking her head. "Forget it, it doesn't matter since we're 
obviously going anyways. I'm going home to pack - I'll meet you 
at the airport."

Mulder grinned as he watched her grab her coat and head out the 
door. "Hey Scully," he called. "Can we hold hands on the plane?"

Scully turned, the scowl already on her fact. "In your dreams 
Mulder," she replied as she continued out the door.

With the memory of her hand clenched in his still fresh in his 
mind, Mulder smiled as he though to himself - 'but sometimes 
dreams come true.'

			*******
American Airlines Flight 19
Dulles International Airport
9:46 am


Scully was in a preoccupied state when they took their seats on 
the plane to Seattle - in fact she had been feeling slightly 
agitated since the meeting with Skinner and her subsequent 
personal debate about the secret file. Something was off - she 
could feel it but couldn't put her finger on it and she knew 
that Mulder could feel it too. She also knew that he wasn't 
going to admit that quite yet so she tried to dampen her own 
apprehension before meeting him at the airport. 

She looked at her partner, seated to her right in the aisle 
seat - he too looked slightly agitated but in his case it was 
with excitement, not apprehension. Furthermore, his suit jacket 
was off his tie was loose, his collar undone, and his shirt was 
slightly sweaty and wrinkled from his 400m airport dash to make 
the flight. 

Scully sighed - just as the plane was in the process of taking 
off - and Mulder glanced over at his partner though he didn't 
have to look to sense her nervousness. Scully didn't like 
flying at the best of times and now, with the uncertainty of 
what they were flying into, she was especially tense and he 
tried to think of something to say to get her to relax. 
However, he knew that whatever he came up with would sound 
either contrived or non-chalant. Deciding that neither type of 
statement would get more than a moments notice and a quick 
Scully-glare, he reverted back to the joke of holding hands on 
the plane and decided that it was actually the only solution he 
could come up with. So slowly and silently, Mulder let his left 
hand drift towards the armrest that Scully's right hand 
intensely gripped. Softly, he laid his hand over hers and 
grasped it so that their fingers were intertwined and the 
pressure she had subjected the arm rest to was entirely 
transferred into their grip. 

Looking up at her partner, Scully let a small, embarrassed 
smile escape and for Mulder that was all the confirmation he 
needed to know that he had definitely made the right decision. 
Watching Scully intently and, unlike usual, not hiding the fact 
that he was doing so, Mulder let a smile of his own escape - 
one of satisfaction. Knowing that he could, at least sometimes, 
make Scully feel better made him happier than anything else - 
he wasn't sure when this realization had come to him but he had 
been well aware of it for awhile. Usually she was so strong 
emotionally and physically that he felt he couldn't get 
through - she held everyone out, even her mother, even him. So 
rare was the opportunity given to him to help her in the same 
way that she helped him every minute of every day - not that he 
was any more willing to accept explicit help - that he was 
extraordinarily satisfied with every second for which she let 
him hold her hand. 

Shortly after take-off Mulder was gently snoring, his lanky 
body slumped low in the seat and his head resting on Scully's 
shoulder. Even in sleep his hand gripped hers tightly and he 
seemed to be slightly agitated - though only she would have 
noticed. Thinking that she should study the files more closely 
as she was sure Mulder had already easily memorized their 
entire contents, Scully deftly reached out with her foot and 
dragged her briefcase from under the seat in front of her to a 
spot where she could grab it without disturbing Mulder further. 

Two hours later Scully had absorbed most of the pertinent 
information on their newest case and Mulder had begun to dream. 
Looking over at her partner who had begun to breathe slightly 
unevenly, Scully dreaded what was coming and considered waking 
him before his dreams came to their usual nightmarish ending. 
She had never seen him sleep for so long a flight before - 
never long enough to enter real REM sleep and its accompanying 
dream cycle - and she knew it meant he really needed the rest 
after an all-nighter the previous night. However, she also knew 
he would be embarrassed by a typical Mulder -waking-up-from-a-
nightmare scene in the middle of a long cross-country flight. 
Still caught in her state of indecision, Scully's thoughts were 
disturbed when Mulder's hand gripped hers so tightly that it 
hurt and when his head began shaking violently from side-to-
side. "No!" he shouted loudly before Scully could reach across 
with her free hand and grasp his shaking shoulder. The shout 
naturally brought them to the centre of everyone's attention 
and the entire plane watched as Scully firmly but gently shook 
her partner and spoke to him calmly, encouraging him to relax 
as he woke up. Feeling everyone's eyes on her, Scully quickly 
looked up from her main object of concern and gave the entire 
planeful of people a glare that Skinner, not to mention Mulder, 
would have been proud of - all before Mulder awoke to find 
himself momentarily agitated from the nightmare but quickly 
calmed by Scully's voice, by her touch on his forehead. 

Scully, just thankful that his grip on her hand had lightened 
and that he hadn't awoken to a a gaping audience, turned so as 
to reach him better with her free left hand and gently brushed 
his sweaty hair from his forehead. Now it was his turn to look 
slightly embarrassed and Scully grinned slightly - very 
slightly - as she pulled his head down towards hers and kissed 
him lightly on the forehead.

"It's okay Mulder," she said softly.

And it was. 

			******
Commodore Hotel
Seattle, Washington
11:49 am

Upon arriving in Seattle, Mulder and Scully were pleasantly 
surprised by the quality of the hotel that had been booked for 
them. Indeed, the mere fact that it could be called a hotel and 
not a hole-in-the-wall-scummy-motel suggested that their new 
case ranked highly on the bureau's to do list. 

"Look Scully, free soap!" Mulder exclaimed - loudly - so that 
his partner could hear him from her room across the hall. 

Poking her head out of her open room door, Scully tried to 
refrain from grinning but even the long flight hadn't displaced 
her own sardonic sense of humour. 

"Free cable too Mulder - you should sleep well." she added 
wryly. "I'm having a quick shower before we head down to the 
field office - I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

When he failed to respond Scully stepped across the hall and 
quickly glanced in his room to see him seated on the bed, 
absorbed in the case file. Beginning to recognize a very 
familiar pattern,Scully internally sighed, turned, and headed 
for the shower.

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
1:02 pm


An hour later they successfully made it to the Seattle Field 
Office after a stop for coffee and a traffic jam. Striding 
purposefully, together the agents entered, stoic faces ready 
for anything, minds sharp with the details of the case at hand. 
Walking together, his arm on her back as always, they moved 
down the hall until they found the office of the special-agent-
in-charge. 

In response to Scully's firm knock, they were asked to enter 
and were greeted by a middle-aged agent some fifteen years 
older than Mulder and Scully who wore a military-issue haircut 
and a no-nonsense facial expression. 

"SAC Dollin?" Mulder queried when the man showed no intention 
of speaking. 

"Yes, and you are?" the older man finally replied. 

"I'm Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully," Mulder replied. 

"Ah, the dynamic duo," Dollin replied tersely. "What can I do 
for you?"

Mulder and Scully exchanged a quick glance and an unspoken 
question hung in the air before Scully took the initiative to 
speak. 
"Sir, we were under the impression that our assistance on this 
case was requested by you. If this is not the case then maybe 
you can give me another explanation for my partner and I to 
have flown across the country on a moment's notice." Scully's 
tone was, as usual, unforgiving. 

Slightly taken aback, Dollin's scowl turned into a tired 
grimace as he gestured for Mulder and Scully to sit down. 

"Look, sorry. This has been a rough few weeks but I was always 
sure we'd get a break in the case soon - I still am. We've got 
a good group of agents working the case and we will find out 
who's killing these people and why. But it's all politics 
right - pressure's up - bring in new blood just so it looks 
like we're doing more, even though it's not likely to help." 
Dollin rubbed his eyes with one hand, both to assuage a growing 
headache and to avoid the glare Scully was giving him.

"Look sir, this is a matter of people dying - quickly and 
mysteriously. This is not some 'who caught whom, who solved 
what' competition. Our assistance has been requested and we 
expect to be treated with the same respect as any other agent. 
So when do we meet to discuss our direction with the case 
agents?" Scully asked authoritatively. 

Though of the two agents, Scully tended to show more tact and 
respect of rules and customs while Mulder was quite likely to 
go off and explode on anyone, anything, regardless of time or 
place, Scully was also prone to challenge anyone who dared look 
at her - or, worse, at Mulder - with disrespect. And she had 
sensed it in Dollin, in his slight sneer, in his demeanour. The 
rumours proceeded them, as they often did, and Mr. and Mrs. 
Spooky were not welcome in SAC Dollin's smooth-sailing ship. 
But the ship had already been rocked with three weeks of few 
clues and fewer lead. So there they were, to the annoyance of 
Dollin, looking - to his greater annoyance - like a perfect 
young professional couple poised to save the world. But to let 
his annoyance show would have been instant death - he could 
feel it as he was subjected to the frostiest Scully-glare 
imaginable. 

"We meet every night at five to debrief and discuss our 
progress for the day." was all he could manage with the ice-
cold eyes still glaring at him.

"Well, sir, I guess we'll see you at five." Scully replied 
tersely as she and Mulder stepped out of the office in perfect 
unison.

Once outside Dollin's office they both instinctively began 
walking to the exit - as most do when they sense being 
unwanted. 

"So what are we going to do for two hours Scully?" Mulder asked 
with a leer in his voice as they descended the outside stairs. 

"Your place or mine?" Scully returned playfully - looking up to 
catch the instant of surprise on Mulder's face before he 
carefully changed it to a goofy grin. 

Though Scully loved to catch Mulder smiling, she also felt 
obligated to turn Mulder's attention back to the case he had 
been so excited about. Understanding that Dollin's hostility 
towards their presence had sent a few waves of angry 
familiarity through her partner and sensing that he was 
dutifully hiding the hurt he still felt when looked down upon 
by other agents, Scully wanted to do nothing more than hold him 
tightly and assure him that he was stronger, smarter, better 
than they were. However, a job was a job and she would address 
the hidden hurt feelings when they had the privacy and the 
time. 

"How about we have some more coffee for lunch and discuss the 
case? We are in Seattle - birthplace of Starbucks," Scully 
suggested - breaking the silence.

Mulder sighed. "I thought you said...." 

Seeing that a part of Mulder's forlorn expression was genuine, 
Scully couldn't resist. "Later Mulder - I promise," she 
whispered, her lips brushing his ear. 

Stepping back she almost giggled when she watched Mulder's face 
go red but contained her laughter and gently took his hand, 
leading him to the closest coffee place. It being Seattle, that 
was less that ten steps. 

			******
Starbucks #1451283438432187023148743761789234
Seattle, Washington
1:26 pm


"There's something here - it's here and we're just missing it," 
Mulder muttered - more to himself than to Scully. 

"I know, Mulder, but the victims are seemingly completely 
unrelated - if not for the MO we wouldn't even suspect a serial 
killer to be responsible for such a strange assortment of 
deaths," Scully stated even  though she knew her partner was 
well aware of what she said - there just didn't seem to be 
anything new to say. 

The six victims so far - all turning up in the past three 
weeks - were not a very cohesive group. Looking through the 
photos for what seemed like the 18126th time, Scully's head 
began to ache and this time she couldn't blame it on lack of 
caffeine. The first photo was of a young woman, twenty-two 
years old, Caucasian, lying peacefully in the woods. There was 
no sign of any physical trauma to her body though she had been 
dead for sometime before her body was found. 

Looking at the coroner's report attached to the photo, Scully 
felt as if she could repeat the results in her sleep.
- no physical injuries
- nothing on the tox screen
- no sign of injections of any sort
- cause of death inconclusive

Continuing through the photos, Scully encountered bodies she 
already knew too well. 
An older man - 70 years old, Hispanic. 
A teenaged boy - 17, Black.
A middle-aged woman - 46, Caucasian.
An older lady - 62, Asian.
A young man - 29, Hispanic. 

Every picture showed the victim lying dead in the woods, each 
looking equally peaceful in perpetual slumber, none yielding a 
single clue as to what killed these six people. Looking up from 
the photos in frustration, Scully found her partner staring 
blankly at a piece of paper in his hands though it was obvious 
that he was not focused on the piece of paper itself. Scully 
knew the look - the faraway gaze that meant her partner was 
searching through the many dark possibilities, the many 
murderous minds that could have killed six people so easily. 
This was his curse - to be able to see clearly into the minds 
of murderers - and what made him both the best and the worst 
agent to work in the Bureau's VCS. Mulder's 'spooky' ability in 
tracking killers haunted Scully and seeing that faraway look 
was all-at-once heart wrenching. She knew why he was so good at 
profiling - not because he himself was on the brink, a killer, 
a lunatic, just managing to get by in 'normal' society - a 
suggestion made altogether too often by various agents - some 
of whom had never even met Mulder. No - she knew his unique 
ability came from his natural empathy for all people but 
especially for tortured souls - those who, like him, had to 
hold personal demons at bay. But he held his demons in check 
while others were not so successful. And whereas a demon-
controlled Mulder would only ever injure himself, others tended 
to lash out in other ways. 

She watched as he mentally dove into possibility after 
possibility - forming a profile as he searched through the many 
evils that human minds are capable of. He was completely 
unaware of her gaze, locked in his head, trying to access the 
head of the killer. However, as she continued to watch him 
think, Scully could tell that he wasn't in too deep yet - there 
was nothing to worry about yet. Indeed, she remembered that 
this case had excited him - not the usual case when it came 
down to VCS files - and even she recognized the very X-filefish 
nature of this particular case. So maybe she didn't have as 
much to worry about as usual when they were working a VCS file 
though she really wished the damn things would stop coming 
their way. Mulder's gift/curse was one of her great fears - she 
knew how close he would get - how far into the darkness he 
would go no matter what the cost was to him, to his sanity. 
Though this dedication was something she admired in him - and 
though she knew that she was equally stubborn - Scully 
sometimes wished they both had a little more sense of personal 
safety. 

"Sundae for your thoughts"

Scully's attentions returned to find Mulder - who had 
apparently returned from profiler-mode - grinning slyly at 
her - amused to have caught his so-serious partner staring at 
him and daydreaming. He was hoping her thoughts were worth a 
lot more than a sundae. Turning red, Scully shook her head a 
little and let a small smile of her own appear on her lips. 

"Your place or mine?" she said.

Her reward was a very amused Mulder. 

			*****
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
4:58 pm

The agents entered the conference room at five o'clock sharp. A 
few agents were already there and were engaged in small talk 
though they did curiously glance at Mulder and Scully when they 
entered the room. 

Within a few minutes the agents had all arrived - Dollin being 
the last one in - and were seated around the conference table 
as Dollin began the meeting. 

"Okay, so - Redden and Koston - what have you got for us today?"

"Uh sir?" came a questioning voice before either Redden or 
Koston had time to speak. 

Dollin looked exasperated as he replied. "Yes Agent Saari?" 

"Well, sir, considering that we haven't yet met our new 
colleagues I thought that introductions and an overview of our 
work so far would be a good idea," said the young female agent, 
ignoring her boss's signs of irritation. 

"All right then Agent Saari - if you're so enthusiastic about 
this then why don't you provide this introduction and 
overview," Dollin remarked sarcastically.

"Fine with me," Agent Saari stood up and turned to face Mulder 
and Scully - both of whom were bemused by the strong stance 
taken by this just-out-of-the-academy agent. 

"Welcome to Seattle, Agents. I guess we all know who you are 
but let me introduce our team to you. I'm Ani Saari and this is 
my partner Doug Lindros. We are working on linking the victims. 
Those two guys - Mark Redden and James Koston are working on MO 
and Jane Penny and Tim Smyth are dealing with possible 
suspects. Obviously we are all working closely together as well 
considering all of these angles are intertwined on many levels. 
Unfortunately, we haven't made much progress on any of the 
fronts. As I'm sure you know, none of the victims seem to be in 
any way related to each other outside of all being of a similar 
but very broad socio-economic status. Also, the means and 
motive behind these murders are, as yet, completely unknown. 
Therefore we are forced to try and pick out possible suspects 
based only on a vague idea of the crime itself. So basically we 
have very little to go on." Agent Saari concluded with a small, 
resigned shrug. 

Mulder and Scully were amused. Though all the information Agent 
Saari had just given was in the file, she was nonetheless right 
to brief the new agents on the basics - it was, after all, a 
part of the protocol and the polite and friendly thing to do to 
break the ice. 

Dollin and a few of the other agents around the table were not 
so amused by Saari's admission of lack of leads on their 
behalf. Looking bad in front of the 'the clean-up team' brought 
in because the local office wasn't competent enough to handle 
the case was not their favourite game. Not that Saari hadn't 
told the truth - it was just that the truth made them look 
incapable, weak. 

Scully especially admired the young agent's resolve and manner. 
Forceful but polite - it quickly made the point clear - and 
Mulder inwardly grinned at Saari's very Scully-like 
performance. 

"Right so when are you going to show us how incompetent we 
are?" Dollin questioned - breaking the silence. 

Mentally sighing, Mulder wondered why everyone seemed to hold 
some kind of grudge against him catching killers. Then he 
mentally laughed at his own momentary naivety in thinking that 
FBI agents never got jealous of others' success. But he would 
bet a million to one odds that none of the resentful agents 
wanted to be 'blessed' with his particular talent. 

With Mulder apparently not responding to the obvious barbed 
remark, Scully settled the matter with a withering look and a 
refusal to dignify Dollin's comment with a reply. Instead, she 
carried on neutrally. 

"Agent Mulder and I need to visit the crime scenes and I would 
like to have a look at the bodies as soon as possible." 

Dollin reluctantly nodded. "Saari and Lindros will take you to 
the crime scenes and the coroner's office first thing tomorrow 
morning. We'll meet again tomorrow afternoon," he said as he 
stood up abruptly and left the room. 

The other eight agents were left shrugging their shoulders and 
looking around. Well, six were looking at Mulder and Scully 
while Mulder an Scully were looking at each other and 
pretending not to notice being stared at. 

Mulder shrugged his shoulders and broke the silence. "I guess 
that means the meeting's over," he dead-panned, knocking the 
other agents out of their momentary reverie. "C'mon Scully - 
don't you owe me dinner?" 

"In your dreams Mulder."

			******
Luigi's Italian Restaurant
Seattle, Washington
6:02 pm

She bought - to make him feel guilty - and made him eat a 
semblance of a decent meal by stopping at an establishment that 
was not a greasy diner or fast food joint. But even Mulder 
wasn't picky enough to not like Italian with red wine. 

"So what do you think?" Scully asked as they ate. 

"I don't know yet," Mulder replied. "But it's obvious that 
there is a link between the victims - we're just not seeing it 
yet." 

"What if there is no link?"

"There has to be - this is too methodical and perfect to have 
been done without a very specific purpose." - or at least that 
was what Scully guessed he said from the few syllables that 
escaped his pasta-filled mouth. But sometimes it seemed to her 
that he didn't even need to speak - she already knew what he 
was going to say and they were just going through the ritual of 
actually communicating orally. And other times she was still 
astounded with what came out of his mouth, his head. 

			******
Commodore Hotel
Seattle, Washington
7:21 pm

Arriving back at their hotel - for once at a decent hour - both 
Mulder and Scully changed into hotel clothes aka jeans and t-
shirts before settling down with the files in Mulder's room. 
Well, Scully settled down - on the bed - as Mulder paced the 
room. With one eye on the forensics reports she was committing 
to memory and the other on her partner, Scully continually 
fought the urge to physically restrain him to a seat. 

Mulder did not notice any of this - he was just getting into 
the case, the possibilities, the profile. The pacing was part 
of it - like the sunflower seeds, it steadied his thoughts with 
its rhythm, though sometimes the thoughts would begin to 
frantically outrace the slow beat of the pacing, the seeds. 

Though he had yet to visit the crime scenes he vividly imagined 
the scene as the killer dropped the dead body off - no mess, 
seemingly no reason to be dead but dead nonetheless. But where 
did the actual killing take place? Why these particular people? 
How were these people killed? It was strange to find no ritual 
involved in the killings - usually serial killers were big on 
rituals. And on and on the chain of questions, partial answers, 
hypotheses, wrong turns, absurd thoughts, questions, questions, 
more questions filed through his head until he though the wave 
just might get the best of him this time around. Then suddenly 
the wave subsided and his head began to clear - he could hear 
Scully talking him down - "Mulder, stop thinking," - she 
commanded as she stood up to stop him from pacing, thinking. 

Her voice had broken through his thoughts and her touch calmed 
both his body and mind. She was just so fucking stable - he 
looked down at her blue eyes - noting the intense concern 
hidden behind the faux anger as she told him his pacing was 
driving her crazy. 

It was driving him crazy too. 

He settled down next to her on the bed, allowing his mind to 
block out any lingering thoughts on the profile - it was too 
early, he didn't have enough evidence to go on, hadn't even 
been to the crime scene. He'd drive himself crazy tomorrow - 
after he knew a little more. Tonight he would just bug Scully. 
Cause it was fun. And cause he knew that he could. 

Flipping on the TV to the science-fiction cable network, he 
then ceased to pay any attention to the B-movie playing and, 
instead, read over Scully's shoulder as she continued to work 
her way through the file. As he did this he made bets with 
himself on time before: 1) withering glare  2) verbal abuse  3) 
feigned annoyance  4) mock-grudging acquiescence. 

Withering glare in less than five minutes! He was way off on 
that one - he didn't even think she'd really noticed his 
annoying behaviour for a bit....

"Mulder, do you mind?"

Hmmm, not too abusive but still qualified for the category as 
it came with withering glare no. 2. 

Still shocked at the speed at which Scully was moving through 
the stages of annoyance, Mulder barely noticed 3) feigned 
annoyance before, bam! The file was down and defeat 
surrendered. 

Only one explanation - 'I must look hot tonight,' he mused 
silently before he returned to reality - 'no Mulder - only one 
explanation - she's tired of reading the same thing over and 
over again.'

Not the same thing at all.

With his "what Scully?" look of innocence securely ensconced on 
his face, Mulder forced himself to behave normally even though 
he felt especially over-stimulated that night. 

She could feel it though - had felt it through his eyes as he 
pretended to read over her shoulder. He was bored, he wanted 
attention and between Mulder and the file, Scully did not have 
a very difficult time picking. But he didn't have to know that. 

"Okay, fine. Mulder, if you're determined to distract me then I 
may as well not bother," she said, looking up at her partner 
with a fairly realistic scowl. 

He grinned - not even pretending to believe her - and got a 
pillow to the head for it. 

"Scully!" he exclaimed. "Don't you think pillow fights are 
unbecoming of a federal office?", even as he fended off another 
vicious pillow to the head. 

"Well, what do you suggest instead Mulder? Obviously you were 
bored." Scully said, disarming herself by again lying against 
her weapon. 

"Well...considering that we are living in the lap of luxury with 
cable television and fluffy pillows at our disposal... and 
considering Planet of the Apes is up next... you can see where 
I'm going with this can't you, Scully?" 

She sighed, half-genuinely. "Only too well Mulder," she replied.

"So?"

"I guess it's your place tonight."

Grinning stupidly, he wrapped his arms around her as they lay 
on their sides to watch the movie. Scully snuggled in close to 
Mulder's chest. Ten minutes later she was asleep, snoring 
gently. Still grinning idiotically, Mulder spent a minute 
relishing the feeling of holding Scully so closely as she slept 
before joining his partner in sleep. 

			******

She awoke with a start - breathing heavily and snatching at 
already fading memories of her dream. Methodical, merciless 
men - she could remember that much - physical pain - 'well that 
certainly wasn't anything new and exciting,' Scully admonished 
herself. Sitting up in bed she felt slightly disorientated - 
something was not quite right. 

She was in Mulder's room. Alone. Looking at the clock which 
brightly announced the ungodly hour of 4:20am. Scully groaned 
and wondered for the millionth time if anyone else in the world 
went running at 4 in the morning. Then for a minute she debated 
going back to her own room though the whole time she knew she 
would stay. Because she could smell him in the sheets, because 
he would come back, shower, get back into bed, put his arms 
around her and pretend that he had slept through the night. Not 
that she consciously admitted this - not even to herself - 
always better to leave it unconsidered for the time being. But 
she knew it - in her heart - she knew it. Debating whether to 
call him on the late-night/early-morning jog, Scully drifted 
back to sleep. 

			******

Downtown Streets
Seattle, Washington
5:26 am

Mulder ran hard for over an hour. The brisk early air felt good 
on his body, in his lungs, as he pounded his way through the 
empty Seattle streets. Mostly he thought about nothing - in 
fact, running was the only way he could ever shut off his 
thoughts - but sometimes his thoughts drifted to Scully. Lately 
things had been so good - too good he sometimes thought. An odd 
lack of physical injuries and threats and no real mental 
traumas either. He was starting to feel safe - well, safer at 
least - thinking that Scully wasn't going to be taken from him 
at any moment in which he wasn't diligently watching her. But 
he couldn't let himself be lulled into sloppiness, complacency, 
because then they would catch him with his guard down, and they 
would... they would...

Unconsciously, Mulder began to run faster and faster as the 
inevitable thought wormed its way into his head. As if physical 
pain could eliminate the mental pain he felt at even thinking 
about Scully dying. Why couldn't he just not think about it? 
Why did he consistently obsess in such a paranoid manner? 
Mulder asked himself these questions relentlessly even as the 
very obsessive thoughts pushed him to run faster and faster 
back towards the hotel . Back to Scully - a safe Scully... 
'Scully is okay, she's okay, she's okay,' he tried to 
substitute this new thought for the old terror as he drew 
closer and closer to the fateful moment when he would know that 
she was okay that he was just being paranoid, delusional. But 
being delusional was fine as long as she was okay. 

He took the stairs three at a time - no time for elevators - 
but remembered enough not to burst through the door in a panic. 
He even tried to breathe normally before opening the door but 
abandoned the idea when his impatience and anxiety got the best 
of him. Opening the door quietly, Mulder finally stopped 
hyperventilating as his eyes fell on the small form of his 
partner - buried beneath blankets and pillows. She was okay. 
Therefore he was okay too. Closing his eyes in tired relief, he 
quietly grabbed clean clothes and headed for the shower. 

Mulder showered, dressed in the same clothes he had been 
wearing before the run, and very discretely slipped back into 
the bed next to Scully. Still a bit agitated from the minor 
panic attack he experienced earlier, he tried to breathe evenly 
as he gulped in air scented with her particular shampoo. She 
let his breathing get almost back to normal before turning to 
face him. He was not surprised to find her awake - somehow she 
always knew. 

"It's okay Mulder," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. 
"I'm okay. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry Scully," he whispered back. He knew she hated how he 
obsessed over her safety but he couldn't help himself. 
Logically he knew why it was a bad idea to focus on the most 
disastrous thing that could happen but that sure didn't stop 
him from thinking about it. 

He had finally stopped trembling but she brought him into her 
arms anyway. "It's okay, I do it too sometimes," she 
uncharacteristically admitted. 

Mulder looked up - surprised. "You do?"

"Of course I do," she said, hugging him tightly. "And it scares 
me too. But I'm okay. And you're okay."

The look of relief in his eyes as he relaxed in her arms 
threatened to make her cry. 

"Thanks, Scully," he whispered as he dozed off - it still being 
early enough  to catch a pre-work nap. 

"Anytime, Mulder," she whispered back, gently stroking his hair 
while watching him fall asleep. 

			******

An hour and a half later they were both up and showering - very 
much separately. Then, with a few swallows of coffee for 
breakfast, they were at the first crime scene. At least it was 
where the first body had been found - the murder had likely 
taken place somewhere else as initial forensics reports showed 
that the pattern of tracks leading to the site indicated a 
vehicle driving up to the very spot where the body was found. 
It was considered highly unlikely that the killer had driven 
through the woods and happened to encounter the first victim 
and killed her. Mulder and Scully already knew this of course 
but Mulder needed to be there, to feel the environment, the 
place where the victim had been found. Through it he could 
reach out, feel the killer as he dropped the body off, feel the 
scene ... damn - he just wasn't getting anything. Something felt 
wrong - these murders were 'different' somehow...he just didn't 
know how."

From a ways away a smirking Agent Lindros - one of the two 
agents instructed to show Mulder and Scully to the crime 
scene - called out to Mulder - "told you you wouldn't find 
anything - this scene's three weeks old and there was nothing 
here to start with, just the body."

Mulder barely heard the other agent - even though he wasn't 
receiving the signals he usually got from a murder scene, there 
still was something there that he was trying to grasp. 
Therefore, it was slightly annoying to have his concentration 
broken when Lindros approached him and yelled "hey lose the 
spooky act man and just admit that there's nothing here!" into 
his ear.

Startled, Mulder jumped and whirled around while instinctively 
showing his agitator. Then, seeing who it was, he checked his 
next instinct to reach for his gun and instead hyperventilated 
for just a second before facing Lindros who had stumbled and 
fallen on his ass after being pushed. 

"What the hell was that?" Lindros asked, slightly angrily, 
getting to his feet. 

"You surprised me," Mulder replied. "I reacted on instinct."

"Instinct this!" Lindros replied. Still worked up about getting 
his ass dirty. "I was talking to you the whole time." 

Mulder wasn't sure what to say to that - he only knew that 
Lindros had startled him and he had long ago learned to react 
quickly and decisively when startled. He was still trying to 
figure out what to say  - "I didn't hear you" would only 
perpetuate the stupid spooky thing while "I was ignoring you" 
was bound to anger Lindros even further. 

Giving in to natural inclination, Mulder settled on a spacey 
look and a shrug - as if that would explain everything to an 
aggressive law enforcement officer who's physical body had been 
challenged. 

To Lindros the stupid shrug was really the last straw - he 
hadn't even really been mad when Mulder pushed him at first - 
just a bit put off, nothing a short "sorry, didn't mean to" 
wouldn't have appeased - but now Mulder's confident aloofness 
was really getting to be too much for him. 'Mr. Spooky Mulder - 
can push anybody around cause he's Mr. In Charge, ready to show 
the locals a thing or two.' Lindros thought as he grabbed an 
unsuspecting Mulder by the shoulder. "Look man, your attitude 
is really starting to piss me off," he said as he gave Mulder a 
hard shove. 

"And yours, Agent Lindros, is really starting to piss me off," 
Scully replied in an ice cold voice from behind Lindros. 

Lindros turned. "Look - Mulder started it." he said angrily. 

"I know what happened Agent Lindros," Scully replied coldly as 
she approached Mulder and offered a hand up. Mulder, who had 
been sitting, slightly dazed from both 'crime scene mode' and 
the unexpected push sheepishly accepted and pulled himself to 
his feet. 

"Scully, I..." he started to explain before she cut him off with 
a "don't worry Mulder, I know what happened."

"You weren't even here," Lindros argued. 

"I know what happened," Scully repeated for the third time. 
"You, Agent Lindros, approached Mulder, telling him that he was 
wasting his time. When it looked to you that Mulder was 
ignoring you purposely, you proceeded to yell in he ear. 
Startled, Mulder instinctively pushed you away and you 
stumbled, got mad, got madder when Mulder brushed you off, 
pushed Mulder."

"Okay - so you sway what happened then - I had a right to be 
pissed," Lindros argued. 

"Except that he wasn't ignoring you," Scully explained. "I know 
it seemed like he was but I swear he just didn't hear you and 
you really just startled him."

Lindros looked suspiciously at Scully and Mulder. She no longer 
looked so mad and seemed to be being truthful while he just 
continued to look slightly dazed. Finally he just shrugged and 
walked off. "Whatever," he mumbled by way of exiting the scene. 

Once Lindros was gone, Scully gave Mulder a quick once over 
with her 'doctor's eyes' and saw nothing more than regular 
'crime-scene Mulder'. Catching her glance as she looked him 
over, Mulder shrugged helplessly. He hoped she wasn't mad at 
him for antagonizing their new colleague. 

Scully sighed. "Ready to go Mulder?" she asked, shaking her 
head slightly, as if exasperated with him. 

Was she mad? He had to know. "Scully, I..." 

"I know Mulder," she replied, once again cutting him off. 

He looked at her and understood. "You didn't even see what 
happened."

"I didn't have to," she replied lightly, making Mulder wince 
slightly at how well she knew him - even though he loved it, 
sometimes it was eerie. 

			******

Crime scenes two through six were almost unbearable similar to 
the first one and didn't even have angry shoving matches as 
side entertainment. The scenes were nearly identical - a spot 
in the local woods, accessible to trucks or suvs, drive-up dump 
off. There had been no real effort to hide the bodies thought 
the locations were secure enough to ensure the perpetrator 
would not be caught if dropping the bodies off at night. 

However, though every scene was so similar to the next, Mulder 
and Scully insisted on staying for awhile at each - to get a 
feel for the environment, the killer. 

Mulder especially felt that he was close to something - that 
just one small detail or two was tripping him up. And Scully 
could feel that Mulder was close as she too climbed after her 
partner into the mind of the killer. But Saari and Lindros were 
close to being bored out of their minds as they dutifully 
showed Mulder and Scully each and every already-examined-
thoroughly sit. Indeed, Lindros was constantly on the verge of 
just up and driving off - this is when he wasn't on the verge 
of yelling at Mulder and Scully for wasting his time. Saari, on 
the other had, agreed that it was stupid to have two agents 
show them around but also acknowledged that she and Lindros 
hadn't done anything much more productive in the past three 
weeks. And she knew that pissing Dollin off had gotten her this 
particular detail so she couldn't complain - it wasn't so bad 
when compared to the enjoyment she got from arguing with 
Dollin. 'the guy is just such as ass!'  she thought to herself 
as she tried to pass the time without dying of boredom. But 
really, what the hell were those two doing out there?" 

			******
Crime Scene
Seattle, Washington
4:11 pm


Mulder was actually lying on the ground, settled in amongst the 
damp Seattle leaves in the same place that the sixth victim had 
been found. Scully was trying to ignore her partner but was 
having a hard time thinking when, every time she looked, she 
was startled into the thought of really finding Mulder lying 
there dead of a mysterious cause. Finally she just had to 
completely turn away from the scene, forcing herself not to 
constantly check if he was still lying there, pretending, yes, 
only pretending, to be dead. 

God, she felt so stupid! Logically, she knew he was absolutely 
fine, but her every urge compelled her to go up to him, touch 
him, feel him breathe, see his eyes. Still busy trying to 
ignore her impulses, Scully was more than a little startled 
when she was touched on the shoulder. 

"What?" she exclaimed, spinning around sharply. 

"Sorry!" Mulder replied. "I didn't mean to startle you - I 
thought you heard me get up."

Scully shook her head sheepishly. "No, I didn't hear anything," 
she admitted. 

This time it was Mulder that understood - and with a grin that 
betrayed his understanding he quickly pulled his partner to him 
before she could object. Hoping that the other two agents 
wouldn't catch it, he gave Scully a small hug and a short kiss 
on the forehead before turning with her and walking with her 
back to their car. And when she continued to smile ruefully, he 
knew he had called it correctly.

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
5:02 pm


The four agents barely made it back to the field office in time 
for the daily review but it wouldn't have mattered had they 
missed it completely considering no one other than Mulder and 
Scully had gotten anywhere with the case and Mulder and Scully 
weren't exactly able to explain what they had achieved. 

Dollin was not especially amused by the lack of achievement. 

"Nothing?" he queried, a little sarcastically. 

"Not nothing sir" Mulder replied neutrally. "We're close, I can 
tell - there's just nothing concrete yet." 

Dollin scoffed. "So, nothing," he repeated. 

"Yes, sir," agreed Lindros. "There was nothing new at the crime 
scenes - nothing not already in the file."

"Didn't think there would be. Did you Agent Lindros?"

"No, sir."

"Well, looks like we knew what we were talking about doesn't 
it? Admit it, Mulder, there was nothing there - just another 
day wasted," Dollin continued, intent on taking advantage of 
this opportunity to put Mulder in his place. 

For an instant it looked as if Mulder was going to fight back 
as he stood and glared at Dollin. But then, he just as suddenly 
sat back down without saying a word and stared down at the 
floor. 

Scully, on the other hand, was more than ready to defend her 
partner's position.

"Compared to three weeks wasted a day hardly seems 
significant," she said icily. "And considering Agent Mulder has 
done more in one day than your team has in three weeks I can 
hardly understand how you can consider his efforts to have been 
wasted." 

Dollin was not impressed but, again, the tone of Scully's 
rebuke and the look in her eyes made it difficult for him to 
challenge her statement. He settled for a quick "well, I'd like 
to see some of these results when we meet tomorrow," before 
leaving the conference room. 

Storming down the hall he mentally abused himself for backing 
down from Agent Scully's challenge. How did she do that to him? 
He was the SAC, she should have been the one challenged but 
that ice blue glare was impossible to defend against. Still 
shaking his head, Dollin grimly looked forward to a meeting 
with Mulder, sans Scully. He could easily take Mulder, he 
thought, the man was obviously a loser - incapable of standing 
up for himself, hiding behind his partner. Just another flaky 
know-it-all with a fancy degree that needed to be shown his 
place in the bureau's pecking order - and Dollin was more than 
willing to do the dirty work. Finally satisfied with that 
thought and ignoring the fact that he was too scared to face 
Scully. Dollin grinned evilly as he left the building. 

Meanwhile, after another abruptly ended meeting, the eight 
agents again faced each other with a small amount of 
trepidation. Though Dollin was never the type to behave 
especially calmly, the six Seattle field agents were also not 
used to seeing him so tense and angry. And obviously Mulder and 
Scully's superior attitude wasn't sitting too well with him - 
not that the other agents were impervious to their attitude 
either. Most of them - all of them at times - already 
considered Mulder and Scully to be aloof, enclosed, unwilling 
to adhere to social niceties - and this was after knowing them 
for only two days. 

Feeling the emanating hostility, Mulder and Scully wordlessly 
stood in unison and walked out together, his arm on her back 
like always, in perfect solidarity. 

The perfect timing had not escaped the notice of the other 
agents.

"How the hell do they do that?" Saari asked once they had made 
their exit. 

"I have no idea," was the only response she got other than a 
bunch of shaking heads. 

			******
Commodore Hotel
Seattle, Washington
6:49 pm

"Mulder, I don't think more coffee is really necessary," Scully 
called from her room, hoping they weren't disturbing some 
ridiculously early-to-bed types by yelling at each other from 
across the hall. 'This is why connecting rooms were made' she 
thought as she slipped into cotton pants and shirt. Next time 
she would insist - no matter how it looked to the hotel clerk, 
no matter how full the hotel/motel happened to be. 

"You must be delusional, Scully and I know what you need for 
that," Mulder replied loudly.

"What, Mulder?" Scully asked, already preparing to be 
exasperated at the answer.

"Coffee?" he said, appearing at her door with two coffees 
already in hand. 

She shook her head, grinning. "Jesus Mulder - how the hell did 
you do that? You didn't even leave your room."

"What do I look like, Scully? An expert on unexplained 
phenomenon?" Mulder asked so seriously that it made her laugh. 

"You are unexplained phenomenon Mulder," she replied. 

Unable to keep the smile from his face, Mulder approached his 
partner, handed her a coffee and replied "I don't know Scully, 
I think I know someone who would have a pretty good shot at it." 

Flattered by this uncharacteristic admission, Scully could not 
come up with an appropriately worded response and had to settle 
for blushing slightly and pretending to ignore the comment. 
Embarrassed, she turned away from his gaze and asked herself 
why they had been acting so openly to each other recently - it 
was difficult when they were so used to hiding their feelings - 
but maybe they would just have to get better at responding to 
the truth instead of hiding behind emotional shields. She hoped 
that would happen instead of a relapse into the emotional 
void - though it was slightly nerve-wracking to face their 
feelings she knew they couldn't hide from them forever. 
Watching his embarrassed partner Mulder settled in next to her 
in the bed though she continued to avoid facing him. Feeling 
slightly edgy, he wanted to grab her, shake her, make her say 
everything she had thought of saying but had abandoned due to 
embarrassment. 'When the hell were they going to stop hiding 
behind walls?' he wondered even as he wussed out of confronting 
her and turned his thoughts to the case. 'There's time for that 
later - after we catch this killer,' he though to himself, 
trying to justify his lack of guts. 

When Scully finally trusted herself to turn back towards 
Mulder, she was both relieved and slightly disappointed to find 
him staring intently at the pictures of the six victims spread 
out on the bed. For an instant she had thought that he was 
going to force her hand, to make her respond to his comment and 
its implications and she had half-hoped that he would just so 
they could get it out of the way or at least make some headway 
into the situation. 'Oh well - next time' she thought - 
definitely not for the first time - as she too settled in on 
coffee and files. 

			******

He was pacing again and this time he knew that he was close. 
The perfectly undetectable murder weapon. A clean and 
methodical killing. The variety in victims. Killing for another 
purpose - not just killing for killing's sake. The secluded but 
not hidden body drop off points. Clean and methodical like the 
killings. Well coordinated. Full of purpose. No ritual. So 
clean. Meticulous. Well led. 

"Well led," he repeated - this time out loud. "Well led."

"Hmmm?" Scully questioned absently. 

"It's not one person Scully - it's a group, a well led group 
with a very specific purpose. These killings have a higher 
purpose - it's not just killing to kill. That's why there's no 
sign of any ritual, why its done so cleanly and meticulously." 
Mulder explained as coherently as he could. Listening to his 
reasoning, Scully nodded - in fact, she'd been close to that 
conclusion herself.  In going through the forensics on the 
victims, she'd been focusing on the results of the toxicology 
reports of, rather, on the lack of results. Not a single victim 
had any toxin of any sort in their system and therefore it had 
been concluded that they had not died from being poisoned. 
However, it was quite odd that none of the victims had traces 
of any other drugs in their systems. This was especially odd 
considering interviews with the friends of the first victim, 
the twenty-two year old girl, Julie Steamer had originally 
speculated that she might have been in the woods smoking weed 
when she was killed. Apparently it was not odd for the girl to 
spend her evenings with a friend and a joint in the woods. 
Therefore, traces of marijuana should definitely have shown up 
on the tox screen - especially considering that marijuana 
traces lasted in the body for a notoriously long time and Julie 
was apparently a habitual smoker. All of this put together 
meant that something was given to these victims to wipe their 
toxicology tests clean. This then suggested a very 
sophisticated operation - not that the clean and methodical 
style of killing hadn't already suggested that. But these new 
hypotheses suggested more than ever that the killers belonged 
to a very organized group with a higher purpose which could 
require experimentation on humans. 

"I agree, Mulder," she said. "The tox screens suggest that 
too - six people in this socio-economic strata of Seattle, 
three of whom are known to use various drugs, should not all 
have clean tox screens."

Mulder looked up, nodding. "I knew it - it's a group - that's 
what we were missing. Good thinking Scully." 

'So willing to gloss over equally good thinking on his part' 
she thought, mentally shaking her head at him. "And I suppose 
you were daydreaming? Wondering what's on the Space network?" 
she remarked. 

He grinned sheepishly while she looked him over carefully, 
making sure he got the point. Sure he was a federal agent but 
sometimes he was ridiculously obtuse. But this time she was 
pretty sure he got it. 

"Thanks, Scully," he said. 

"Anytime, Mulder."
Now that the break had been made, Scully knew that neither 
agent would be getting much sleep that night though she would 
methodically try while Mulder would barely notice the night go 
by. Already he was up, off the bed, pacing and muttering to 
himself. 

"But why? It's still the same questions Scully - just different 
suspects," he mused as he strode back and forth. 

Scully sighed. "You're right Mulder - we aren't much closer to 
finding the murderer - but we definitely are close now that 
we're looking in the right direction. Maybe there's a clearer 
reason as to why a group might be killing various, seemingly 
randomly selected people and then covering up the toxicology 
reports." 

It was a sign of her tiredness that Scully didn't even really 
realize the familiarity of the scenario she just described. 
Mulder, however, even through his own reverie, heard her 
comment very clearly. "Scully - are you suggesting what I think 
you're suggesting?" he asked. 

"Am I suggesting what?" a confused Scully asked. 

"A group, killing random people, covering up tests or drugs... 
you see where this is going," Mulder replied tersely but 
thoughtfully, turning the idea over in his head. 

"But I don't know - I don't think this is their particular 
style... but I still think you might be onto something, Scully." 

Scully looked at him, first in dread and then in tiredness. 
Thinking it through she realized that it was rather unlikely 
that the group behind the Seattle killings happened to be the 
group of men that she and Mulder had the unfortunate luck of 
constantly encountering. Those men would have burnt the bodies 
to ensure that nothing was discovered - she was convinced of 
that. However, the idea of being involved in another of the 
conspiracy's subplots gave her a chill, especially considering 
the peculiar way in which they had first heard about the case. 
There was still a small chance that they were involved somehow 
and that she and Mulder were walking into a trap. 

"Scully, you okay?" Mulder's voice broke through her troubled 
thoughts. 

"Hmmm? I'm fine Mulder - just thinking," she replied in what 
she hoped was a casual tone - no reason to concern him with her 
paranoia. That thought made her smile inwardly - since when had 
she become as paranoid as Mulder?

"Are you sure?"

'Damn!' she though he would have gone back to pacing already. 

"I'm fine, Mulder," she repeated.

That particular response didn't seem to help alleviate Mulder's 
concern. Instead, he seemed to take it as a sign of foreboding 
and sat back down next to his partner on the bed. 

"I really don't think they're involved in this one, Scully - at 
least not directly," he said, hoping to quiet the concern 
obviously gripping his partner. 

She turned and smiled at him wearily. "I know Mulder and I 
don't think so either but...."

"But?" 

"You never know right?" she said.

Scully's tired tone caused Mulder to examine his partner 
carefully. Lately he had been feeling particularly guilty at 
having brought Scully into the deadly conspiracy that he was, 
in a way, born into. How much had she lost to accompany him 
into a world of sinister shadows, of merciless men? He was 
constantly torn by the conflicting desires of making her leave 
him so that she would be safe and of holding onto her 
partnership forever so that he would be whole. So what was she 
really saying to him not? That she was tired of the endless 
battle, that she wanted out but stuck with him out of 
obligation? He couldn't tell, couldn't read the tone of voice, 
the body language. He was beginning to think too hard, was 
becoming almost frantic - what was she saying? Did it even 
matter? He should obviously do the noble thing and set her 
free, make her leave him, force her when she pretended, out of 
loyalty's sake to not want to go. And on and on the endless 
chain of guilt an doubt rolled through Mulder's head as it had 
done countless times before. He couldn't help it and having 
already been worked up about the case, his over-active mind had 
easily fallen into obsessing over the problem that seemed to 
forever haunt him. 

And then suddenly he felt warmer and more stable and this 
physical change shocked his mind into wondering what had 
happened, leaving it incapable of focusing on the painful 
debate it had previously been engaged in. 

Seeing the world clearly for the first time since falling into 
his favourite argument with himself, Mulder was only marginally 
surprised at being held in Scully's arms. 

Looking at her partner and seeing that he was finally focused 
and conscious, Scully smiled a sad smile, thinking about the 
tortures that Mulder put himself through. She had seen it 
through his body, had looked through his unresponsive eyes and 
flinched at the pain he inflicted on himself so consistently. 

"Why do you do that to yourself, Mulder?" she asked, almost 
whispering as her usually strong voice threatened to fail her. 

He had nothing to say. Instead, he just looked at her intently, 
as if he was only clinging to the world through her, even 
though at the same time he was already telling himself to let 
go, disengage, let her have a life no matter what cost to him. 

The expression in his eyes was almost enough to make her cry - 
especially considering she was exhausted, but she held off the 
tears because she knew he would only later guilt-trip himself 
about making her cry. Unable to face that look for long, she 
brought his head to her chest and felt a tear stain through her 
shirt. Kissing him on the top of his head, she let her lips 
remain in his messy hair as she whispered softly to him. "It's 
okay, Mulder, let it go," she said over and over as she softly 
stroked his hair. Eventually his body became less tense and he 
let himself relax in her arms and enjoy her touch on his 
forehead. How could he give up the one person that could give 
him any comfort?

"Mulder," Scully said quietly. 

"Hmmm?"

"Mulder, listen to me," she whispered as she lifted his head 
and looked into his confused hazel eyes. "You have to stop 
doing this to yourself. I know it's hard for you - for some 
reason, guilt comes naturally to you. But you have to know that 
you, of all people, have nothing to feel guilty about. After 
everything you've done, everything you've sacrificed to search 
for the truth, to do what's right."

But he wasn't easily appeased. The tortured look remained as he 
stared right into his beautiful partner and dared himself to 
give her a chance even though it would suicide to do so. 

She pulled out her last weapon - her ace in the hole. "Look 
Mulder, think about it this way. I know you think that if we 
weren't partners, I would be safe, happy, free to live a normal 
life. And I know you want to sacrifice yourself to save me. But 
you can't and I wouldn't let you, Mulder, because the time for 
that has long passed. If we were separated now you would be 
hurting me as much as you would be hurting yourself. I don't 
know why you can't see this, Mulder. I wouldn't know what to do 
without you, Mulder," she said, finally giving into the tears 
that had been threatening to spill. 

It was as if something finally clicked and registered itself on 
his brain. Still staring intently at Scully, Mulder reached up 
and brushed away her tears. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. 

"No Mulder," she said, frustrated. "That's the whole point - 
you shouldn't be sorry."

"No, Scully - I mean I'm sorry for..." he couldn't find the words 
to continue with his thought and began a new one in hopes of 
explaining himself. 

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked. 

"Staring at Mulder, holding him so close, Scully knew exactly 
what he was saying. "You know Mulder, I think I do," she 
replied honestly. 

Grinning at her answer, Mulder let her pull him in even closer 
and let his mind clear itself of its usual guilt thoughts. She 
felt the release follow through his body and held him tightly 
to protect him from their return. Feeling more at ease in her 
arms than he had felt for awhile, Mulder let himself fall 
asleep and, for once, slept through the night. 

			******

They awoke the next morning still dressed and still entangled 
in each others' arms. After giving each other a slightly 
embarrassed look, they proceeded to treat each other with the 
professionalism and clarity of the morning - as they usually 
did after emotional nights. 

"So I suppose we should meet with the other agents early to 
tell them what we've found," Scully said without so much as a 
'morning!' to start the day. This was no time to get overly 
sentimental - there were things to do, deaths to prevent. 

Mulder, however, groaned half-seriously but did seriously 
consider grabbing his partner and holding her captive in bed. 
But only for a split second before sitting up and stretching. 

"Morning to you too, Scully," he replied. 

Scully smiled by way of apologizing and ran her fingers quickly 
through his scruffy hair. "Good morning Mulder," she whispered 
into his ear. 

And then it was his turn to grin - goofily as he got up and 
wandered back into his room for a quick shower. 

					******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
7:40 am

By the time they arrived at the field office they were high on 
a mix of coffee and adrenaline - ready to shake up the 
investigation with their new insight into the case. Striding 
confidently in step, they stopped at Dollin's open door and 
knocked even as they let themselves in. 

The SAC looked up at their intrusion and scowled. "Yes?" he 
asked impatiently. 

"Sir, Mulder and I have some new findings to present to the 
group and we'd like to gather the case agents for a meeting 
first thing this morning," Scully said, getting straight to the 
point. 

Dollin, however, only continued to sneer. "What new findings 
agents?" he asked. 

"Sir, if you would call a meeting then Mulder and I would be 
able to present the evidence to everyone at once," Scully 
replied tersely. 

Grudgingly, Dollin had to agree and proceeded to call the 
agents involved into the usual conference room. Once gathered, 
the group sat quietly, nervously anticipating Mr. and Mrs. 
Spooky's findings - maybe there were aliens involved and that 
was why they hadn't gotten anywhere on the case.

Mulder took the floor and explained that he and Scully had, 
separately, using different sources, come to the conclusion 
that the killings were being done by a group of some kind - not 
by a single serial killer. He then went on to explain his 
reasoning - using the concrete evidence and omitting his own 
'feelings' on the matter. 
Scully then proceeded to explain her belief in the same fact 
and discussed the medical oddity of so many perfectly clear tox 
screens that had screened for so many different toxins. 

The audience was captivated but grudgingly so. While they all 
had to admit that Mulder and Scully seemed to be onto 
something, no one could understand why they hadn't seen it 
before. They were annoyed at themselves and at each other for 
being shown up by the out-of-town agents - it wasn't as if they 
were some rural local police force - they were top field agents 
in a large city. Obviously, none of the agents would have owned 
up to any of these thoughts - they were good little FBI 
protocol-following robots who spouted the party line on 'it all 
being about catching the killers, saving innocent lives.' 
However, the resentment was felt by everyone and especially by 
the two targets. 

After the meeting had broken up, the agents got to work on the 
new angles introduced with Mulder and Scully's hypothesis - 
poring through records on special interest groups that would 
have the ability and motive to perform murders of this type. 

Letting the other agents do the grunt work, Mulder went back to 
absently wading through files he already knew by memory, trying 
to put together the motive behind the killings. If they knew 
why, it would narrow the list of candidates considerably.

Meanwhile, Scully set to work on the question of how the people 
were killed and what was used to mask the effects of the toxin. 
She was convinced it had to have been a rare toxin that killed 
the victims but the killers had been careful enough and had the 
medical knowledge and technology to hide the agent of death. 
Tackling the problem from all angles, Scully tried one medical 
expert after another, called every hospital and university, 
hoping to find some obscure expert on unmasking toxicology 
reports. The closest she got was an expert on biochemical 
weapons - close because she was pretty sure what lay under the 
toxicology mask was a biochemical killer. 

"Hey Mulder, I'm going to see this Dr. Kalis - the biochemical 
weapons specialist - do you want to come?" Scully called out to 
her obviously frustrated partner. 

Looking up, Mulder sighed and nodded. "Sure - it's not like I'm 
getting anywhere doing this." he said as he stood and rubbed 
his eyes wearily. "Coffee on the way?" 

"Do you even have to ask?"

			******

University District
Seattle, Washington
9:10 am

Driving through Seattle's university district, only slightly 
lost, Scully grimaced at the slow-moving traffic even as she 
took long swallows from a venti latte. 

"So who is this guy anyway?" Mulder asked, trying to kill some 
time by distracting his irritated partner. 

"Dr. Jonathan Kalis - top level university researcher on 
biochemical weapons and defences. I suspect he once worked for 
various government research agencies - namely DARPA - but those 
records are unsubstantiated to say the least. But really this 
is kind of a wild good chase - there's little to indicated that 
he would know anything about what killed these people 
considering we can't even figure out if it really was a 
biochemical weapon," Scully recited easily as she finally 
managed to find her way into the university parking lot. 

Mulder nodded seriously. "So basically you're playing a hunch," 
he teased. 

Scully looked up at her partner and scowled. "Just covering all 
the possibilities, Mulder," she replied. 

Still grinning, he lead her up the stairs. 

			******
University of Washington
Seattle, Washington
9:40 am

Dr. Kalis was working at a lab computer when the agents found 
his lab. Standing to greet them, Kalis introduced himself and 
indicated that he would be glad to give them any information 
that might pertain to the killings. 

"I mean, it's pretty scary knowing that some guy's out there 
killing random people - the next victim could easily be someone 
you know," Kalis mused out loud as evidence to his helpfulness. 

Scully nodded but remained unconvinced that Kalis would 
actually be able to tell them anything of use - but there was 
no harm in trying. 

"Dr. Kalis, do you have any knowledge of biochemical weapons 
that can be completely masked on a tox screen?" she asked. 

"Why? Is that what this case involves?" Kalis asked. 

"Actually, we're not certain about anything yet - it's just a 
possibility," Scully replied. "But do you know anything about 
his type of weapon? Is it even possible to mask such a decisive 
killing agent from a in depth tox screen?"

Kalis looked blankly at the agents - for all his rhetoric, he 
didn't seem to offering up much help. 

"Um, I'm not sure about that," he finally replied. "I suppose 
that it would be possible, but creating such a precise 
combination...well, it would be difficult to say the least." 

"So what you're saying is that, if it is a biochemical weapon 
being used and then wiped, it's no basement lab geek who's 
doing it," Mulder asked. 

Kalis shrugged again. "Well... I suppose you could say that..." he 
answered noncommittally. 

Shaking her head in annoyance, Scully turned, ready to end the 
extraordinarily unenlightening interview. "Thanks for your 
time, Dr. Kalis," she said with only the mildest hint of 
sarcasm. "Let's go, Mulder." 

			******
University District Streets
Seattle, Washington
10:14 am

"That was weird, Mulder," she said when they were back battling 
Seattle traffic. 

Mulder agreed. "Yeah - straight from Mr. Eager Beaver to 
reluctant teenager mode ... what do you think?"

"Well, obviously he knows something he's not telling us - if 
only we could find out what he was doing for the government..."

"Maybe the gunmen can help us out on that one," Mulder 
suggested. 

Scully nodded. "I was hoping they might get us some classified 
records but..." 

"But?" Mulder grinned, already knowing what she had been 
thinking. 

"But nothing," she replied, dismissing the question. 

"But you wanted me to ask so that you're not caught owing them 
a favour," Mulder said, answering his own question. 

Blushing just a little at how easily Mulder read her thoughts 
and motives, Scully didn't even bother arguing with his astute 
observation, though she did take the time to flash him a 
piercing look that would have been painful had he not felt the 
playfulness behind it. 

"Better watch out, Scully, or else you'll be owing me that 
favour," he countered in the same light-hearted manner. 

"Mulder, I don't even want to think about that and I don't want 
you thinking about it either."

One look at his grin, however, and she could see his 
imagination racing away. 

Grinning, Scully admitted to herself that she probably would 
enjoy and favour Mulder might ask of her - even if it did 
involved fluke worms - though she was pretty sure it wouldn't. 

			******
University of Washington
Seattle, Washington
10:26 am

Though usually a very relaxed person, Dr. Kalis was 
considerable agitated after the agents' visit. He had always 
felt that his past would catch up with him sometime and now it 
seemed imminent. Though he was pretty sure the fibbies didn't 
know much yet - if they did then why would they bother asking 
him? - but the mere fact that they were questioning along those 
lines ... it was not good. 

Within minutes of the agents' visit - after making sure that 
they weren't coming back - Kalis was on a secure line dialling 
a number he hadn't used in years but remembered easily. The 
voice that answered was also as familiar as it had been years 
ago.

"It's Kalis - the FBI were just here. They might be onto the 
project - you should probably warn your people," he said, 
getting straight to the point. 

"What were their names?" asked the anonymous sinister voice on 
the other end. 

"Mulder and Scully," Kalis replied nervously. 

"It will be taken care of."

Click.

Kalis shuddered as he hung up the phone. It had been so long - 
he had thought he was free, that against all odds, he had 
escaped their grasp. However, deep inside he had always known 
that no one ever really escapes their long-reaching grasp - 
through some tricky manoeuvring he had come closer than most 
but, clearly from the situation at hand, he was once again 
obligated to them. It was not a nice position to be in. 
Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and decided to make it a short 
day - after the recent events he needed a bit of time to 
himself to reflect on his past and his future. He had done what 
he was obligated to do and he hoped it would be enough and that 
it would be the last time he had to think about the project. 
Silently, he wished the FBI agents the immense amount of luck 
they would need to destroy the project, to destroy his past. He 
had called to guarantee his survival when they found out about 
the breach in security, about the FBI's suspicions - as they 
eventually would have - but he really wanted nothing more than 
for the entire project to finally disappear. 

'Someday,' he thought grimly. 'They aren't perfect - someday 
they'll get what's coming." Sarcastically grinning at his 
wishful thinking, he wondered how long the FBI agents had to 
live.

			******
Unknown Location
10:36 am

The tall, well-built man dressed for battle in army fatigues 
listened gravely to the soft but commanding voice. 

"Yes sir, I understand," he said seriously. "We'll take care of 
the situation." 

Hanging up the phone, he immediately barked out orders in an 
authoritative voice. 

"Emergency meeting at fourteen hundred. There has been a breach 
in security."

			******
Coroner's Office
Seattle, Washington
10:54 am

"You know Scully, as much as I'd like to join you..." 

"But three week old bodies are your favourite, Mulder."

"I know - it's so hard to pull myself away but... duty calls - I 
have an idea I want to follow up on."

"Well, as long as you're not just being squeamish." 

"Me? Squeamish? After all these years you sure don't know me 
very well, Scully."

Scully-look followed by Scully-smile. 

			******
Unknown Location
10:41 am


"There has been a possible breach of security. It will have to 
be rectified immediately," the leader of the group stated 
severely to his men. 

The five men nodded seriously though two looked slightly more 
nervous than the others. These two were slightly built and 
dressed casually in contrast to the others who filled XL army 
uniforms quite readily. 

"The research will continue as before," the leader continued, 
addressing the group but indicating towards the two smaller me. 
"While the others deal with the problem."

The three military-standard men nodded gravely but not without 
a certain gleam of excitement in their eyes. A new mission was 
always something to look forward to - another way to prove 
their loyalty and usefulness to the group. 

"Two FBI agents - Mulder and Scully - may have some information 
about the project. We do not as yet know that they know - or if 
they know anything at all. However, we know that they suspect 
and that is unacceptable. Our mission now is to find out what 
they know and to stop them from uncovering the project." 

"Are we to remove the threats, sir?" asked an eager young 
blonde in camouflage. 

"No, this mission is to gather information which will require 
the cooperation of one of these agents. Simple removal will not 
do - we have to find out how much they know and how much 
evidence they have before we can start eliminating the 
problems. Therefore, the mission is clear - bring one of these 
agents in for questioning... I would suggest the female, 
Scully, - she should be easier to grab and to break. And more 
enjoyable when the time comes." 

The leader finished his instructions off with a nod that sent 
the three men into hasty preparations. They had to be perfect - 
that was their role in the project and one mistake could cost 
them everything they enjoyed in working with such a 
professional group. The leader watched as his men planned and 
discussed the next step. They were clear, meticulous, and cold-
blooded. Exactly what he wanted, exactly what was necessary. 
Allowing himself a slight leer of satisfaction, he attempted to 
stymie his growing excitement and anticipation in having a 
'guest' brought in. He hadn't used his particular talents in 
interrogation in awhile and was anxious to meet this FBI agent 
who might know too much about their dirty secret. 

			******
Coroner's Office
Seattle, Washington
8:10 pm

He was back to pick her up at eight - after nine gruelling 
hours of dead bodies and endless tests for her and seven easy 
hours of reading and thinking for him. 

"Find anything?" he asked as the tiredly slipped into the 
passenger seat. 

Nodding wearily, she smiled wanly. "Yeah, but I don't know 
what."

"What do you mean?" 

"There's some anomaly in the chemical structure in all the 
samples of brain tissue but it's unlike anything I've seem 
before and I couldn't find any other information on it in any 
journals or online databases," she explained as they wove their 
way through traffic back towards their hotel. "I'll follow up 
on it tomorrow I guess but I don't think there's much chance in 
getting any official records on this. What about your 'idea'? 
Did you find anything?"

Mulder grinned. "I think I got a link - how all the victims 
were connected." 

"How?" Scully asked, again amazed at what her partner could 
pull out of thin air.

"Well, I was thinking - no connections except that they all 
might have needed some extra money and people that need money 
usually look in the classifieds... So I checked out the local 
newspapers' records and five out of the six victims had 
subscriptions to the Seattle Times. And look at what's in the 
classifieds - permanently listed starting just over three weeks 
ago." 

Scully picked up the paper and searched through the 
classifieds, scanning quickly for what her partner was so 
excited about. "I don't think I see it, Mulder - what are you 
talking... oh wait - I think I got it. Need some cash? Subjects 
needed for routine medical testing of pre-market drugs. Safety 
guaranteed. Interested applicants call 555-2214. Must be able 
to spend periods of two to four days at a time at medical 
complex for duration of tests. $1000 for each session 
guaranteed."

"You got it."

"Do you really think this is the link, Mulder? I mean it could 
easily just be a coincidence - and I'm sure that more than six 
people have called in over three weeks. So why only six 
victims?" 

"I don't know - maybe they're picky. But I'm pretty sure this 
is it - I called some friends an relatives of the victims and 
all six of them had recently started spending weekends away 
from home. I'd say that makes a pretty solid link.
Scully nodded. "It sounds right, Mulder - but why the hell 
didn't someone catch this before? These people would have just 
acquired some extra money and were spending weekends away - 
both could easily be related to suspicious deaths - did this 
not occur to anyone else?"

"I don't think they were looking for the connection and not all 
the friends and relatives mentioned either fact until I asked 
specifically. It didn't seem suspicious to them and no one was 
asking the right questions - you know how it is." 

Scully sighed - she certainly did know how it was but sometimes 
it was just so frustrating to put up with. 

"C'mon Scully, cheer up - dinner's on me," Mulder said as he 
pulled into the parking lot and glanced at his slightly 
dejected-looking partner. Eight hours with the dead never did 
anyone much good. 

"I don't know, Mulder," she answered, still not moving. "I'm 
not sure I can stay conscious long enough for dinner."

Mulder shook his head in mock-exasperation. "Well, don't say I 
never offer... C'mon Scully, you really have to get up."

Groaning more out of principle than exhaustion, she let Mulder 
help her out of the car and guide her tired body to her room. 

"Thanks, Mulder," she said upon arrival. "I'm beat - I'm going 
to take a bath and go to bed," indicating that there would be 
no need for him to share in her night's plans.

"Are you sure you're not hungry, Scully?" We could grab a quick 
bite after your bath..." Mulder asked with a touch of concern, 
knowing that she must be starving. 

"Mulder, I'm starving but right now I'm more tired than 
hungry - I would never make it out of this room tonight," 
Scully sighed. 

"Okay Scully - sleep well."

"Thanks. You too, Mulder," she said even as she began slipping 
out of her clothes and into the steaming hot bath. 

Having finished cleansing herself of the arduous work with dead 
bodies and brain samples, Scully had just slipped under the 
covers when someone knocked on the door. 

Sighing as she got up reluctantly, she opened the door with a 
"What, Mulder?" before realizing that the boy in hotel uniform 
standing at her door was definitely not Mulder. 

The boy looked slightly nervous regarding her annoyed 
expression. "Room service?" he squeaked.

Her expression quickly changed from annoyed to amused. "Thank 
you," she said, tipping the young man and taking the tray to 
bed with her. Mulder had ordered her a huge chicken caeser and 
fries - a combination of his and her tastes. Grinning, she 
demolished her dinner quickly before picking up the phone. 

"Thanks, Mulder," she said with her last swallow. 

He could hear the amusement in her voice and congratulated 
himself on a job well done. 

"Anytime, Scully," he replied. 

"Sleep well, Mulder."

"You too, Scully."

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
7:32 am

The next morning they arrived at the field office refreshed and 
full of anticipation in following up on their new lead - 
finally, they felt like they were getting somewhere. 

"Uh, sir, we're going to need to meet with all the agents," 
Mulder announced as they walked by Dollin's office on their way 
in. 

"What is it now?" Dollin asked wearily. 

"We have some new leads that need to be followed up on," Mulder 
replied - only barely succeeding in hiding his annoyance at 
Dollin's attitude. 

"Fifteen minutes," was Dollin's curt reply. 

"What's his issue with solving this case?" Mulder grumbled as 
the two agents walked away from the SAC's office. 

"I don't know, Mulder, but I don't think there's anything we 
can do about it," Scully sighed. 

Fifteen minutes later they were joined by the other agents and 
an impatient-looking Dollin. 

"Fill us in on everything we missed, agents," Dollin said by 
way of starting the meeting. 

Mulder managed to only glare briefly before recounting his 
discovery with the newspaper ad and the possibility of it being 
the crucial link they were looking for. 

Dollin was not impressed. 

"You call that a lead? Do you know how many people in this city 
meet the description you just gave?" 

Mulder was having a difficult time hiding his annoyance. "Look 
sir" he said with a pointedly sarcastic edge. "This could be 
the break we've been looking for and it's worth checking out - 
especially considering what Agent Scully discovered yesterday."

"And what exactly did Agent Scully find?"

Scully stepped up to bat. "Sir, in examining the brain tissue 
of the six victims, I discovered that all six seemed to be 
suffering from some sort of chemical imbalance in the brain. 
Now, combined with Agent Mulder's theory regarding this ad for 
medical experiments, it only seems prudent that we determine if 
this ad is the link between the victims," she said in a 
convincing, no-nonsense manner to which her medical background 
lent credibility. 

Dollin again sighed and stood up with a grimace still on his 
face. 

"Look agents, we don't have time for your unsubstantiated 
theories and wild goose chases. My agents have been working 
this case for weeks now and don't deserve to be sent on dead 
end searches while you two concoct new theories out of nothing. 
If you really think this ad is going to lead you to the killer 
then by all means, waste your own time following up on it. But 
don't waste our time again until you have some actual evidence 
to back up your claims," Dollin said angrily, glaring at 
Mulder. 

"Sir - you're jeopardizing this investigation and innocent 
lives by not putting all the manpower available on this lead - 
we're close to something here," Mulder argued through gritted 
teeth. 

"Close to what, Mulder? Unless you know more than you're 
saying, I don't see how you're any closer than we were before 
you arrived. Why should I waste my agents' time on a 'lead' 
that is based on nothing but speculation by the FBI's most 
notorious flake. What have you got to support your theory, 
Spooky? A feeling?  A hunch? Or did the aliens tell you? Do 
what you will but, I repeat, stop wasting my time." and with 
that, Dollin stormed out of the room, almost followed by an 
equally enraged Mulder who was only held back by Scully's 
restraining hold on his wrist. 

She had watched and felt his anger mount as Dollin spoke - 
indeed, it only mirrored her own anger at Dollin's words. But 
it was different for her - she was never the one doubted, never 
the one to be so openly ridiculed in front of colleagues. Every 
time it happened she wanted to calmly remove the asshole's 
voice box so her partner would not have to again hear about his 
inadequacy because she knew how much it hurt him even though he 
was always quick to brush it off with a flippant remark. 

Holding him firmly by the wrist to avoid a physical 
confrontation that would no doubt leave him injured considering 
the SAC's 40 lb advantage in pure muscle, Scully was also 
careful to let him know that she was there with him and stroked 
his wrist gently with her thumb. Slowly, she felt a little bit 
of tension flow out of Mulder's tense frame and decided it was 
time to leave the captive audience of six agents who weren't 
quite sure what to make of the situation. 

"C'mon Mulder, let's get some fresh air" she said, leading him 
towards the door. 

Disrupted in his anger, Mulder looked confusedly at his partner 
for a second before nodding defeatedly and following her lead. 

Once outside they crossed the street, found a park bench and 
sat down silently. Scully watched as Mulder mentally reviewed 
Dollin's words over and over again - his photographic memory 
betraying him and intensifying his pain. Reaching out, she felt 
for his hand and was surprised to find it trembling a bit. 

"Hey G-Man - you okay?" she said lightly, hoping to change the 
mood. 

Mulder didn't answer. 

"Mulder, you can't let jerks like that hurt you. You're better 
than him and you know it," she tried again with a new tactic. 

He still didn't reply. 

"Mulder, they're just assholes that are jealous of your 
ability. You know that," she paused. "I know that. I know you 
Mulder and I know that your intelligence and humanity is so far 
beyond what others can even conceive of. Don't let them make 
you doubt that Mulder because I never will." 

Finally he was looking at her and his expression said it all. 
His hand had ceased shaking and now just gripped hers tightly. 

"I'm sorry, Scully," he said in a whisper. 

"Don't be Mulder - you have every right to be mad and upset but 
just remember that you're better than him. I don't want to 
imply that the words shouldn't hurt, Mulder - just that they're 
the clumsy weapon of a dirty fighter."

"No - I mean I'm sorry I let him piss me off," Mulder said 
determinedly. "You're right and I know it - we're on to 
something and fuck him if he wants to ignore it." 

Scully smiled at her partner's renewal in spirit. 

"Of course I'm right, Mulder," she teased. 

Mulder grinned. "Thanks Scully," was his only reply.

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
6:01 pm

He spent the day avoiding the office and theorizing on his 
laptop in his hotel room, only returning to get Scully at the 
end of the day. He walked quickly past Dollin's door, hoping to 
avoid any further confrontation and was almost out of earshot 
before he heard Scully's voice coming form the office. 

Pausing, he grinned as he heard her tone - he was glad he 
wasn't on the receiving end of her words just then - and crept 
closer to do a little eavesdropping. What he heard stopped him 
dead in his tracks. 

"I don't care what you think, 'sir'," Scully said bitterly. "It 
was uncalled for and unfair to ridicule Agent Mulder in that 
manner. He is an intelligent and hard-working agent that hasn't 
even come close to breaking protocol on this case and indeed 
has made more progress single-handedly than all of your agents 
put together have in three weeks. And all this after we were 
requested to come down here! I won't stand for this attitude of 
yours any longer. Agent Mulder deserves a hell of a lot more 
respect than you, 'sir' and when we solve this case then maybe 
you'll finally acknowledge his contributions - but if you can't 
or won't then just stay out of our way while we stop these 
murderers. Have I made myself clear?" Scully sounded like she 
was reprimanding a child and indeed, at the moment, she could 
barely see past Dollin's childish attitude towards her partner. 

"Crystal," Dollin replied thickly with a hint of sarcasm, 
though not quite enough to get his throat ripped out by the 
fiery red-headed agent accusing him. It did, however, earn him 
a fierce glare that made him shiver. 

"Good. I trust that this will be the last time we have to speak 
on this matter." With that, Scully turned sharply and opened 
the door to find Mulder two steps away, pretending to casually 
walk down the hall. 

"Hey Scully," he said with forced casualness. "What did he 
want? Did I miss anything?"

She was amused enough by his facade to let some of the fire 
cool and even smiled as she approached him. 

"No, Mulder, I don't think you missed anything," she said 
innocently as he placed his hand protectively on her back as 
usual. 

Looking down at his diminutive partner and still seeing hints 
of sparks in her eyes, his embarrassment at her protective 
gestures lessened and his admiration of her protective 
abilities grew. He had never been able to grasp how such a 
beautiful, delicately-built woman could frighten and intimidate 
men of any size and rank indiscriminately. Even after all the 
years of working together it never ceased to amaze him - it was 
like she had so much power emanating from her personality and 
beliefs that anyone who got in the way could feel it 
immediately. 

While Mulder considered all this for the umpteenth time, Scully 
took the time to look at him closely and thought about the 
frailty behind his flippant attitude. He did so much to hide 
his hurt and denied it to the point where he wouldn't stand up 
for himself and would just take it - often because he had 
convinced himself that he deserved it. The only problem was 
that Scully could feel his pain as acutely as he did and, just 
as he would always stand strong for her, she was more than 
willing to stand up for him. But to admit it to each other was 
something avoided at all costs - it was an unspoken though well 
understood pact. So she let Mulder pretend that he hadn't heard 
anything and he let her pretend that she hadn't said anything. 
The only acknowledgement given came in the form of an extra 
millisecond of close body contact before getting into the car - 
as Mulder drew her in towards him before dropping  his hand 
from her back. It was nevertheless clear to both of them what 
had been said. 

			******
Unknown Location
7:01 pm

"So Operation Red is on for tonight. Is everyone clear on their 
assignment?"

"Yes, sir."

"And all the equipment is ready for transport?"

"Yes, sir."

"No problems with logistics? What about the partner? Is it 
guaranteed that she'll be alone?"

"No, sir - that's impossible to predict for sure. However, the 
operation's objectives will be met regardless of the partner's 
presence." 

"Excellent. Then we are all set." 

"Yes, sir."

"We move out at oh three hundred."

"Yes, sir."

			******
Commodore Hotel
Seattle, Washington
12:47 am

"Mulder, I'm beat - I'm going to bed."

"Hmmm?"

"Mulder? You know - sleep. What other people do at night 
instead of going through list after list of random groups in 
the Pacific Northwest area?"

"Hmmm?"

"Mulder - please listen to me just a second..."

Reaching over, she finally just pulled the papers he had been 
scanning out of his hands to get his attention. 

"What Scully?" he asked, slightly irritated at the distraction.

"Mulder - it's almost two and we can do this when we're more 
awake and officially working tomorrow. I need the sleep. You 
need the sleep. I'm actually going to sleep and I can only hope 
that you will do the same."

"Scully - we're so close! I can feel it - it's all coming 
together. I can't sleep until I put it all together..."

"Mulder - you've probably slept six hours since we got here. 
Put the files away. Lie down. Relax. Sleep. We'll put it all 
together in the morning," Scully said, taking the files and 
putting them on the already cluttered table and pushing her 
weary partner into a horizontal position. 

Giving up the useless fight, Mulder lay down and grudgingly 
admitted to himself that it felt really good. "How do you know 
how much I've slept?" he asked, realizing that she was probably 
dead on with her guess. 

Massaging his head gently, Scully smiled. "I can tell, Mulder," 
she said cryptically. 

Her hands moved softly over his tense muscles and he felt 
himself relaxing in spite of his natural inclination towards 
stress. Sleep caught up with him just as she slipped out and 
crossed the hall into her own room.

			*******

She awoke to silent footsteps approaching her bed and her first 
thought was that it was Mulder - unable to sleep sometimes he 
would come into her room late at night and watch her as she 
pretended to sleep and not notice him. Only when she sensed 
more than one extra presence in the room did anxiety overtake 
her as she considered where she had left her gun - she couldn't 
remember if it was on the bedside table like usual. Either way 
it didn't matter - an instant later she felt strong arms 
holding down her arms and legs while a hand strongly clamped 
her mouth to prevent her from screaming. The last thing she 
felt before consciousness escaped her was a syringe plunging 
into her thigh. 

			******
Unknown Location
6:02 am

It was dark - or at least she couldn't see anything and hoped 
it was because it was dark and not because her eyes didn't 
work. Not that it would have surprised her to find her eyes 
malfunctioning considering that the rest of her body didn't 
seem to work too well either. All she could tell was that her 
arms were tied behind her in an incredibly uncomfortable 
position, thereby leaving them stiff and deadly sore. Her legs 
were also bound together tightly thereby leaving her little 
chance in getting into a mobile position. In fact, there was 
little chance of her moving much at all which was not good news 
considering the floor she was lying on was no more than a hard 
slab of cold concrete. 

Waiting for her head to clear a bit, Scully closed her eyes 
wearily and wondered how long she had been unconscious for, 
wondered if Mulder was awake and frantically looking for her 
yet. 

			******

He was running down an unfamiliar street in a state of absolute 
panic. His breathing was irregular and shallow, his heart 
pounded loudly. He had to find her - where was she? He couldn't 
stop running - not until he found her but it was getting harder 
to breathe....

Mulder woke with a start, breathing rapidly and feeling his 
pulse race with the latest instalment of his familiar 
nightmares. Wiping the sweat from his face, he tried to calm 
himself and fall back asleep though he knew the effort would be 
fruitless - he had already slept longer than usual. For a 
minute he lay there in the darkness until he couldn't resist 
any longer - he had to go look. Getting up, he pulled the key 
to Scully's room from his wallet and silently crossed the hall 
and opened the door. As he entered her room, Mulder chided 
himself silently about his nocturnal visits to watch his 
partner sleep - a small indulgence he allowed himself only when 
absolutely necessary. Approaching her bed, a feeling of dread 
began to wash over him and by the time he was close enough to 
see that she wasn't there, he could already sense that she was 
gone. Standing, staring at the empty bed, for a second he 
desperately tried to wake up again before surrendering to the 
knowledge that this was a nightmare that wasn't going to go 
away. Tears began to stream down his tortured face as he lay 
down in her bed for a moment before getting up to change and 
start the process of finding his partner. He could smell her 
presence on him even after he showered the tears away. 

			******
Unknown Location
2:02 pm

Lying stiffly in the cold darkness, it was impossible to tell 
how long she had been held captive for - it felt like an 
eternity but previous experience suggested that it had probably 
only been a few hours. Thinking about it like that, Scully had 
enough spirit left to be bemused at being so experienced in 
being held captive. Mentally shaking her head at her situation, 
her life, she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of 
bolts being undone and grimly prepared herself for the worst. 

Two men entered the small concrete room and one undid her leg 
bindings while the other grabbed her harshly by the arms and 
threw her to her feet. Standing on stiff and unsteady legs she 
stumbled as the two men pushed her forward out the door and was 
rewarded by being slammed hard into the wall. 

"C'mon bitch - you do what we want and you do it good or else..." 
one of the men - the one with his strong body pressed hard 
against her shaking body - growled into her ear. 

Not trusting her voice, Scully nodded stiffly and breathed a 
small sigh of relief as the pressure on her back receded and 
she could no longer feel the man's threateningly hard body 
against hers.

She was led into another concrete room, this one bigger than 
her little cell and well lit. in the middle of the room there 
was a raised single-bed-sized slab of concrete adorned with 
stiff metal bindings. Next to the concrete bed was a table with 
a small electronic device on it - a black box connected to 
several electrodes. A video camera was set up next to the table 
and a whip lay menacingly on top of the camera. One look at 
this set up sent waves of panic up her spine and it was all she 
could do to even vaguely conceal her fear as the two men who 
had brought her to the room roughly forced her to lie down on 
the 'bed' and shoved her arms and legs into the tight metal 
restraints. Fighting all the way with all the strength she had, 
a stream of obscenities flowing freely and loudly, Scully 
refused to give them an easy time even though she knew she was 
fighting a futile battle. 

"Now, now, Agent Scully," a new voice entered the room just as 
the restraints were locked into place and the two goons left 
the room.

A very large man wearing a black balaclava to conceal his face 
looked down at her and slowly ran one finger up her trembling 
body. Trying to pull back from his touch but with nowhere to 
go, Scully fought back tears of fear and frustration as the man 
finished his initial inspection of her body. 
"You seem to be afraid of me, Agent Scully, but there's no 
reason to be afraid - all I want is some information," the man 
spoke liltingly, playfully, condescendingly. 

"Well, I have none to give so you may as well let me go," 
Scully countered in a steady voice, trying to sound 
authoritative but knowing that it was rather pointless - both 
of them knew who was in charge of the situation. 

He laughed - a cold, harsh laugh. "So you have a sense of 
humour - unexpected from such a reserved woman. Yes - you can 
see that I've done my homework, Agent Scully - I know about you 
and your partner and what you've been up to. So you may as well 
make this easier on yourself and just tell me what I need to 
know." 

"If you know so much about me already why don't you just find 
out for yourself what you need to know?" Scully spat back - 
refusing to let him intimidate her. 

"Well, that's exactly what I'm about to do," he said with 
obvious glee. 

She didn't like the sound of that and frantically thought 
through her options - however, being tied down to the table 
didn't seem to leave many as her interrogator roughly grabbed 
her t-shirt and viciously ripped it off her body. Then, taking 
out a razor blade, he slowly sliced her pants in two and 
removed them too to leave her naked on the cold concrete slab. 

Scully closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to take deep 
breaths as she felt him run the razor against her naked body -  
not hard enough to break the flesh - yet. 

"What's wrong Agent Scully? Nothing nasty to say?" he taunted. 
"Afraid of a little razor? Well, don't worry - it's not going 
to be that fast and it's certainly not going to be that 
painless."

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

"So let's just save me the trouble - just tell me everything 
you know about all those other dead bodies and our little 
project."

'Think Dana, think.' Scully though to herself. 'What does he 
want?' The answer came quickly and was not reassuring in any 
way. If she told him what she knew then there would be no 
reason for them to keep her alive, especially considering she 
could identify two of the men by sight and the third man's 
voice. If she didn't tell them anything then at least she might 
stay alive long enough for Mulder to find her. But she was 
increasingly terrified of the man who stood before her, eyes 
gleaming with anticipation through the balaclava. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scully said in what 
she hoped was a convincingly confused tone. 

"Now, now Agent Scully, you must not think very much of me if 
you expect me to believe that - I know you know something - I 
just don't know exactly how much you know so why don't you just 
share that little secret with me an this will all be over."

"You must not think very much of me if you expect me to believe 
that," replied Scully. 

"Touché, Agent Scully - well, it's your decision," he said. 
"Greco - get in here."

Another man - equally well-built but minus the balaclava - came 
into the room and stood behind the video camera, ready for his 
film-making debut.

"Is it up and running?"

"Yes sir - you are now being recorded."

Scully's growing dread increased exponentially as her 
interrogator reached for the electrodes on the table and 
methodically placed them all over her body - two on the 
temples, two on the torso, two on the thighs, and two on the 
soles of her feet. He then flipped a switch on the black 
machine the electrodes were attached to. 

"Last chance, Agent Scully," he said sadistically. "Change your 
mind?"

Scully did not trust herself to speak. 

"Don't say I didn't ask."

He smiled as he pressed the button.

And her world became nothing but sizzling pain. It was nothing 
like any pain she had previously experienced - so intense she 
didn't know if she screamed. She couldn't think, couldn't 
breathe. 

And then it was over. Her body still buzzed from the 
electricity but also sagged in relief as the white hot pain 
faded and the world swam back into view. 

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

"Fuck you," she screamed. 

"No, Agent Scully - you're the one that's fucked. Unless you 
want to tell me everything you know." 

Silently she braced herself though no amount of preparation was 
enough as he hit the button again and the juice sizzled through 
her body. She screamed and writhed in agony as the electricity 
burnt her skin and seared through her entire body. 

When the pain finally faded after an eternity or two she was 
sure she wasn't breathing and almost hoped that she wouldn't 
ever start breathing again before she realized that she 
actually was breathing very rapidly and that she was very much 
alive. She was beginning to doubt how much of it she could 
take - it would be so much easier to just tell him the little 
she knew and let them kill her quickly. 

And he hit the button again. 

She was sure her head would burst. She shook it wildly and 
pulled frantically at her restraints - thrashing wildly until 
blissful release. But then release just led to terrified 
anticipation of the next time - the fear being nearly as bad as 
the pain. And the pain again and realization that nothing was 
as bad as the searing, the burning of her delicate flesh. 

Then he was speaking again or at least she thought he was but 
it was all so far away - through the massive pounding of pain 
and fear in her head, through the dull leftover pain throughout 
her body, through the blistering and sore burns and cuts from 
the contact points and the restraints. 

"Not bad, Agent Scully - not very many people make it through 
our little black box... but I'm glad you did because from now on 
I get to decide what is most likely to get response from you..." 
the excitement in his voice was evident even through the haze 
in her head but she couldn't think about what it could mean - 
there were only two thoughts - pain and fear. 

The restraints were released and she was dragged 
unceremoniously onto the floor. He approached and she 
instinctively kicked out, meeting his shin with a weak kick. 
This resulted in a kick to her ribs - much stronger than her 
feeble attempt - which knocked all the breath out of her and a 
crunching pain in her chest. But apparently one wasn't enough 
and another sharp kick connected with her stomach and then the 
boot came back again and again - each time smashing against her 
already shattered body no matter how she curled up in an 
attempt to shield herself from the blows that seemed to just 
keep coming and coming. 

Finally they stopped but by that time she couldn't even move 
and just stayed tightly curled up crying silent tears of pain. 
The tiniest movement caused intense pain - even breathing hurt 
and her medical mind vaguely realized that she definitely had 
some broken ribs to go along with everything else. 

The pain was already so overwhelming that the intense burn of 
the whip took an extra second to register. But the successive 
blows were difficult to ignore as he found untouched flesh on 
her back and connected solidly with his torture weapon of 
choice. 

It was all she could do to keep on breathing - with her eyes 
tightly shut she felt the blows move from her back to her legs 
and still the burn of the whip attacked her trembling body. And 
then his hands were on her and through all the pain she 
screamed obscenities and struggled against his touch but of 
course it was no use. Her body had no strength left though her 
mind still resisted - no matter what she would hold on until 
Mulder showed up and killed the bastard who was pressing his 
hands into her open wounds. And then she knew what he was going 
to do and she screamed at him as he unzipped his pants and 
straddled her wrecked body. She screamed and cried and 
struggled against his hold as he got closer and closer and then 
he was in her and it was pain and fear and disgust altogether. 
It was forever and worse than any other pain and she 
desperately shut her eyes as if to ignore it and struggled and 
struggled even through the pain of moving but he was so much 
stronger physically and there was nothing she could do but 
curse at him. 

And then it was over. Rough hands forced her to her feet but 
there was not way she could walk so they dragged her back to 
her cell and threw her in. Unable to make her body respond to 
even the simplest movements, her head struck the concrete when 
she couldn't break her fall and finally a blissful darkness 
overcame her. 

			******
From: quark <bluechaos22@yahoo.com>
Date: Sat, 7 Sep 2002 22:41:03 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Just Lucky by Quark
Source: direct

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
5:46 pm

There were so may files - files upon files of militant groups 
capable of kidnapping a federal agent from her hotel room. 
Paramilitary groups, white supremacy groups, militant Islamic 
groups, religious right groups, anarchists, militant 
activists - so may groups and time running unfathomable 
quickly - a billion times faster than normal as he pored 
through the files at manic speed. 

There were no more tears - they had been pushed back by his 
intense focus on the piles upon piles of files upon files. But 
there was so little to go on - they knew so little about the 
particular group that they were looking for. He could have 
already gone through the right file and not seen it - the vital 
connection - no... no... no... he couldn't think about that - he had 
to believe that he would know when he found it - he had to know 
or else. ..

He was beyond panic and looked the part with no tie, rolled-up 
sleeves, messy hair - but forced himself to shut off his 
imagination which unfailingly tortured him with painful images 
of her tied up, held captive, being tortured. He had to focus 
if he was to find her - and he was definitely going to find 
her. 

And still there were more files - it was unbelievable - he had 
been there since 5am, viciously consuming files and coffee for 
hours before any other agents arrived at the office - but there 
seemed to be no end to the groups, the possibilities.

His head was pounding. He was only vaguely aware of the 
apprehensive looks he was getting from the other case agents as 
they walked by his 'office' - a small conference space he had 
taken over - and wondered if they should say anything. It was 
unclear to them what they should do - Mulder had managed to 
extract himself from the files for an instant to inform them of 
Scully's disappearance - but hadn't thought to inform them on 
how they could assist in the search. 

It was already late afternoon and he hadn't found anything 
useful yet. The pounding in his head had not been appeased by 
more coffee. His eyes were beginning to fail in focusing. 
Anxiety which had been barely held in check all day was 
creeping closer and closer to the surface. Getting up, he paced 
the room, head in hands, questions without answers running a 
mile a minute through his head to the beat of his headache. 

'Where is she?'

'Who are they?'

'What do they want?'

'What are they doing to her?'

That last one was always the worst, its mere presence like a 
blade slicing through him - inducing an icy shocked state to 
momentarily overcome him as the images rudely shoved their way 
through his imagination. 

'It was here somewhere - he was missing something, wasn't 
looking hard enough, wasn't seeing that one thing that would 
save her - he had to find her! but he just couldn't see it and 
it was fault, he was missing something..." 

"Agent Mulder?"

No response. Just more pacing, head still in hands. 

"Agent Mulder!"

He turned to see one of the case agents standing at the door 
and weakly acknowledged his presence with a dull stare. 

"This just arrived by courier," the young agent, who's name 
escaped Mulder's usually photographic memory - held a tape in 
his hand.

Mulder just continued to stare dully.

"Um, it has Agent Scully's name on it."

That got a reaction - Mulder instantly grabbed for the tape and 
was halfway out the door in search of a TV and vcr before the 
young agent could shout  "the team is meeting in 201 to watch 
it now!"

Mulder turned, his expression a mix between panic and 
indignation. They were going to watch the tape? But it had 
Scully's name on it. Therefore it belonged to him. What right 
did thy have to the tape? He should obviously see it first, 
alone...

"Agent Mulder? Are you coming?"

The panic was still there but the tiniest bit of reason worked 
itself in there and he knew there was no choice - it was 
technically a group effort - it wasn't his case and protocol 
dictated that the evidence be viewed by all involved. But the 
temptation to take the tape and run - fuck the consequences - 
was still there even as he let the other agent lead him to a 
room where all the other agents were waiting. 

He was so intensely anticipating watching the tape that he 
didn't even notice the looks - a mix of pity, curiosity, 
disdain, and wariness - he was getting from all involved. 

Someone put the tape in the machine and pressed play. 

And Mulder felt his entire being begin to crumble. She was 
screaming in pain and he couldn't do anything about it. Numbly, 
he watched as the bastard pressed the button over and over 
again, sending waves of pain through her helpless body. He 
heard her screams and saw every tremor, every fearful twitch, 
every painful convulsion. And then she was screaming again and 
this time she was calling his name through gasps of pain. His 
head was swimming, his breathing irregular, his heart pounding, 
his stomach heaving. He couldn't hold on any longer and stood 
up abruptly - she was still bound to the table, electrodes 
sending torturous electricity coursing through her tiny body, 
she was still screaming. With every ounce of strength and 
rational thought left he managed to press pause before tumbling 
out of the room in a dead run for the washroom. 

He made it just in time. Retching intensely, he rid his stomach 
of all its contents until he was just dry-heaving, all the 
coffee long gone. 

It wasn't enough. The need to purge himself of the images, the 
sounds wracked his body as he sat on the cold linoleum floor, 
leaning against the toilet for support. He was covered in cold 
sweat and was shaking violently. Desperately, he tried to stand 
up - he had to be there to see the rest - he couldn't let them 
watch it without him - somehow that would be wrong, for them to 
see her pain without him. Her pain was his responsibility - he 
had to get back. But it was so hard to get up - he felt so 
weak. 

"Um, Agent Mulder?" a wary female voice called through a crack 
in the door. 

"Agent Mulder?" she called again. "Are you okay?" 

He managed a groan in response. 

Agent Saari took that as a 'no' and walked up to the stall 
where Mulder sat with the stall door open. 

"Hey - I said I'd check if you wanted us to watch the rest 
without you..." she said, crouching down to get closer to Mulder. 

"No!" he yelled in a panicky voice. "No - I'm coming back, 
right now."

"Are you sure? You don't look so good." Saari said. 

"I'm fine," he said as he made another feeble attempt at 
standing and achieved very little in the way of vertical 
movement. 

"Here," Saari stood and offered him a hand up;.

"Thanks," Mulder replied, a little sheepishly. 

With Saari's help, he stood up and managed to walk after the 
initial threat of blacking out from head rush, shock, and 
malnutrition had passed.

"Look, Agent Mulder, I don't know what to say... everything I 
think of seems trite considering the situation... but if you need 
anything - anything at all, don't be afraid to ask," Saari said 
cautiously as they made their way back to the conference room. 

Mulder looked at the young agent and managed a weak smile in 
acknowledgement. "Thanks," he mumbled. 

The agents sat down and someone pressed play. 

He had tried to steel himself against the vicious images on the 
tape and was surviving until the first kick to her ribs and the 
cracking sound that followed. The subsequent kicks were like 
dull knives digging at his heart - her beautiful voice crying 
out in so much pain resounding in his already hammering head. 
And just when he though it couldn't get much worse he saw the 
man he swore to kill pick up a whip and Mulder knew the worst 
was yet to come. 

Each blow brought him closer and closer to the edge of insanity 
but even as his pain increased, he derided himself for giving 
in to so little pain considering what Scully was going through. 
He could see the red welts on her wrecked body. He could feel 
the pain she felt as she curled up, trying to breathe through 
the indescribable pain of broken ribs. He felt her terror as 
the fucking bastard got on top of her and....

It was too much - the tears he had so valiantly fought back 
flowed freely. It was like someone had reached into him and 
ripped his heart out. He was watching some lowly evil asshole 
rape Scully, his Scully, his beautiful partner. He wanted to 
scream, to die. 

He settle for sitting numbly as the video finally, mercifully, 
faded to black , missing the final comment by the balaclava-
clad man - "Call off the investigation and you might just see 
her alive again."

Slowly, the other agents left the room - all visibly affected 
by the video, obviously shaken by witnessing a fellow agent 
being brutally tortured and raped  - and unable to face her 
partner's grief. What could they say to him? The two of them 
had obviously been very close - so close as to exclude all 
others and now it was impossible to approach the grief-stricken 
Mulder. 

So he sat alone, his body and mind weak, unable to think 
coherently. 

The images, her screams, raced through his mind. Her writhing 
body, the burns, the crack of bones breaking, the tears of fear 
and pain, her tortured voice calling his name. 

He had to focus, he had to find her, he had to kill the man in 
the balaclava. 

Focus.

Focus.

There must be a clue in the video

Focus.

Breathe.

Breathe.

With a valiant effort, Mulder forced himself to focus on what 
the video told him about the group he was up against. 

Breathe. 

Think. 

Slowly, with a painful effort, he slipped into profiler mode - 
working out a profile on the group and its leader. 

Methodical. Regimented. Authoritarian. Organized. Passionate. 
Together these traits suggested a paramilitary operation. 

Sprinting back to the pile of files, he tossed any non-
paramilitary files in a corner. There were still a bunch of 
files but at least it was getting to a realistic size. 

Concrete room. Soundproof or in a remote area. Funds for 
equipment. Members with no other jobs? 

There weren't that many groups with enough money, time, and 
organization to have a permanent membership and base. He was 
getting closer. 

He wracked his brain and briefly considered rewatching the 
video for any missed clues but couldn't bring himself to replay 
the horrific images. He would rely on his memory even though 
his mind had actively tried to shield itself from the torturous 
scenes. 

There were still so many possibilities and everyone else had 
already left the office so he couldn't find anyone to 
investigate each possibility immediately. But maybe he could 
narrow it down some more if he just thought harder, worked 
through the files again. 

It was getting harder and harder to think. He felt extremely 
weak - the adrenaline rush had long past and his body lacked 
the energy to even keep his eyes open. Fighting it all the way, 
Mulder finally succumbed to the much-needed sleep that called 
his name. 

			******

She was right there - he could see her but couldn't get to 
her - couldn't save her. She was screaming his name. He was so 
close! He could almost touch her but she was just out of reach 
and In so much pain....

He was screaming her name. And it wasn't a dream. He sat up and 
stretch his sore muscles - sleeping sitting up never felt too 
good on his back, his shoulders. Wincing at his small 
discomfort, he almost started to cry again as he though of 
Scully's pain. She was probably sleeping naked and in intense 
pain on a concrete floor. Sleeping in a chair was not so bad. 
Not knowing where she was was infinitely worse. 

Rubbing the remains of sleepiness out of his eyes, Mulder 
dutifully turned back to the files and resumed his search 
without even pausing for coffee. 

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
7:04 am


It was hours before the first agent arrived at the office - 
even though Agent Saari had shown up unusually early. The young 
agent had also been unable to sleep through the night - images 
from the video plagued her dreams as well - and had decided to 
take the hint from her subconscious to get up early. 

Entering the eerily quiet office, she was not in the least 
surprised to see Mulder sitting in the same position he had 
been in when she had left the night before. She was also not 
surprised when he didn't notice her presence at all until she 
knocked lightly on the open door after standing and watching 
him for a few minutes. 

"Agent Mulder?" she said gently, hoping not to startle the 
forlorn-looking agent. 

He looked up with a pained expression on his face and seemed 
disorientated, unable to respond. 

"Here, I brought you a coffee," Saari said, breaking the 
silence and handing him a extremely large coffee cup. 

Still a  bit dazed, Mulder managed a "thanks" and a nod before 
quickly returning his attention to the file in his lap. Saari 
stood and watched - aware that her presence wasn't affecting 
the other agent in the least - in fact, it was as though 
nothing existed for him outside of the files he desperately 
searched through. 

He did not look good. He had obviously not slept much and she 
guessed that he hadn't eaten since his partner disappeared. He 
was pale and almost seemed to be in shock - with a shimmer of 
sweat on his forehead. He looked like he was about to either 
collapse or cry and was obviously sinking into despair. 
Watching him study file after file, Saari wanted so badly to 
help him somehow but she couldn't even begin to understand what 
he was looking for. There was so little information to go on 
but he seemed so sure that he would recognize the group when he 
saw it. And she knew that he probably would - it just seemed 
right somehow that he would hold the only key to finding 
Scully. Though she had only met the pair a few days ado, it was 
obvious to her, as it was to everyone the moment they met 
Mulder and Scully, that the two of them had something special 
going - like an inside joke that no one else could ever be in 
on. And now he seemed so lost without her - like a broken toy 
or an abandoned child. 

"Hey, Agent Mulder - you okay?" she asked, finally breaking the 
silence with a ridiculous question. 

"Do you need some help with anything?"

Looking up briefly he shook his head slowly but then didn't 
immediately dive back into the file and, instead, stared 
blankly at nothing in particular. 

"Do you want me to get you some breakfast?" Saari tried - 
surprising herself with her willingness to pander. 

Again he shook his head but she could see that he obviously 
wanted something - though neither of them could put their 
finger on what it could be. 

Suddenly, Saari had a ridiculous desire to take him into her 
arms, to take away his pain, to make everything alright. What 
else could she do for a man who's world was shattered but still 
held himself apart from any human contact? But bold as she 
usually was, she couldn't bring herself to so daringly approach 
him and instead just reached out and lightly took his hand in 
hers.

"Look, Agent Mulder, I know I don't really know you but you 
look like you really need a friend right now and I know the 
guys around here are pretty much assholes. So, really, if you 
need anything, just ask. I'm not trying to be overbearing or 
condescending or anything and I'm usually not nearly this 
accommodating but, as I said, you really look like you need it 
right now. Okay?"

His eyes finally showing some acknowledgement of her words, 
Mulder nodded. "Okay," he said. 

She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and he seemed 
to derive a bit of strength from the human contact. "You're 
going to find her and she's going to be okay," she said before 
she left him to his files. 

Again he nodded but this time with more strength. "Thanks," he 
said a bit more steadily. "You're right - Scully's going to be 
fine."

'Scully's going to be fine,' he repeated to himself as he 
chugged his coffee and pored through the files. 'She's going to 
be fine.'

			******
Unknown Location
8:22 am


The first thing she was aware of was the cold - she was so 
cold... She could feel herself shaking involuntarily, 
uncontrollably and with each movement - with the slightest of 
breaths - came the pain. Intense, burning, insatiable pain 
pulsing with every heartbeat, every breath. Impossible to 
think, move, see, through the waves of torturous pain that 
engulfed her. 

One second of coherent thought brought two things to mind - 
fear, unbridled and searing - and Mulder. 

Sinking back into incoherent, incomprehensible, undiluted 
agony - made worse by a quickening of her breath - she still 
somehow felt hi pain in searching for her settle in with her 
own physical torture. Drifting into a hazy world in between 
realities, the darkness of hurt sucking her in, Scully 
dreamt/hallucinated of his lanky body, his messy hair, running 
through the wood - searching, searching. His pulse was racing, 
his t-shirt sweaty and he wildly looked around but couldn't 
find her. She wanted to yell, to call out to him but even 
breathing hurt so much. He was getting further and further 
away... And she woke up screaming his name - each syllable 
tearing through her stricken body, carrying more and more of 
the never-ceasing pain. But it was not Mulder that had woken 
her. It wasn't the man in the balaclava either but it was the 
goon that had been videotaping in the torture chamber. Grinning 
maniacally, he unbound her legs, making sure to handle her raw 
burns roughly as he untied her. 

The merest touch was pure agony but she was determined not to 
scream - not to give him the satisfaction of tears and was 
successful until he pulled her to her feet and shoved her 
roughly towards the door, causing her to stumble and fall on 
sore and cramped muscles. With her hands still tied behind her, 
she had no way of minimizing the damage and fell onto broken 
ribs that screamed for mercy. The excruciating agony came close 
to making her pass out and she only kept conscious because the 
good pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the torture 
chamber. 

The sight, the smell, the presence of the room made her whole 
body convulse in fear as she was strapped onto the cold 
concrete table, bindings tightened over the same raw ankles and 
wrists that had struggle for freedom from the electric shocks. 
The goon then stepped back behind the camera and the leader 
entered the room. 

Shock and fear numbed her freezing body but didn't stop her 
from trying to recoil when the man in the balaclava stepped up 
next to her. 

"Why Agent Scully - you don't look happy to see me," he said in 
his faux-pleasant voice. "I'm disappointed. But maybe you'll be 
happier once you find out what new 'treatments' we have to for 
you today."

Blood pumping, heart racing, fear trickling through every limb, 
every vein. Close your eyes. Ignore him. Ignore everything. 

"Oh no, Agent Scully - you can't get rid of me that easily," 
the balaclava covered man leered from behind his mask.

Refuse to scream. Hold back the tears. 

He grabbed her right hand and forced it flat on the table. 
Holding it down with one hand, he took her little finger in his 
right hand and gripped it tightly. 

"We'll start small and work our way up," he said, increasing 
the pressure on her finger. "Unless you want to tell me what it 
is you know..." 

Death or pain - the decision was getting harder and harder to 
make. 

Snap. 

She screamed. And screamed. Pain coursing through her finger 
and up her arm. Pulsing and pulsing with every racing heartbeat.

'Please let me pass out. Please god.' But darkness stayed at a 
distance and she felt his grip on her ring finger and there was 
no point in struggling in increasing his fun factor, his 
satisfaction but the pain in her little finger called out and 
screamed and it was so hard to resist fighting the ever-
tightening grip, the fingers that pulled her own finger further 
and further back until...

Snap. 

And again, familiar searing pain tearing unabated, emanating 
from her hand but flowing everywhere, touching everything. 'He 
can't possibly want to give it another go - it's obviously not 
working - it's pain, but pain is nothing that its everywhere, 
everything but his hand is grabbing at her middle finger and 
the process is now familiar to her but fear of course still 
presides and the pressure on her finger is growing but almost 
can't be felt against the agony in the other fingers - almost - 
until the pressure grows stronger and pulls it back further and 
the tendons are screaming and she is screaming too as he gives 
it one hard yank and  the agony spreads to a third finger and 
again through her hand, her arm, her body, her head. 

"Hmmm, you really are just so stubborn, my dear Agent Scully. I 
have rarely met such resistance to my tactics. But maybe my 
next little trick will finally get you to open up..."

Pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter her 
wickedly lit a smoke and sat, still pretending to have a 
friendly chat. 

She barely had the strength to be afraid though the smell of 
tobacco burning managed to pierce her senses and warn her of 
his next 'trick'.

He was halfway through his cigarette when a knock at the door 
interrupted the proceedings. 


"Sir - we're back across," came a loud voice. 

"That's fine - you have your next orders. Continue as planned," 
the man in the balaclava called gruffly. Scully's hopes faded - 
she had prayed for the leader to pulled away on some urgent 
task, before he could do anything other than smoke his 
cigarette but she felt his leer on her body grow and knew that 
there was no reprieve to be had . She opened her eyes a crack 
and saw that the cigarette was nearly done. Terror seeped up on 
her - uninvited but determined. 

The glowing ember came closer and closer. She could feel the 
heat on her torso and then could feel nothing but a sizzling 
burn unlike anything she had ever felt before. The tears that 
had been hiding streamed out in droves and she found her voice 
only to hear it scream.

"Hmmm, didn't like that so much did you?"

Head shaking, body trembling, tears flowing. 

"Are you sure? Why don't we try it again?"

The smell of smoke. Fumes of smouldering tobacco wafting about. 

The wait alone was agony, the fear beyond comprehension. 

"Hmmm, these cigarettes sure don't last too long - wouldn't you 
agree, Agent Scully?"

Don't answer. Don't think. Don't feel.

Don't feel the heat approach your good hand, your unbroken 
fingers. Don't think as it gets closer and closer. Don't...don't...

Don't answer to the burning piercing torture in the palm of 
your hand, to the smell of burning flesh, to the sensory 
synapses exploding in your brain telling you to scream, to pull 
away, to stop the pain. 

"I just don't understand you, Agent Scully. All this pain for 
nothing - just a little secret. Share it with me and off you 
go - no more pain."

No more pain. No more life. It sounded alright. But also no 
more hope and so much pain for him.... Trade her pain for his? 
Not even then was it an option. 

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on even as another cigarette is being 
lit. Being smoked. Being stubbed out on your breast. Hold on. 
Scream. Fear. But hold on. 

Disgusted, he flung the butt into a corner and whipped off his 
belt. Frustration required release and his favourite kind of 
release beckoned. So much better that she was restrained - no 
fighting, no fuss, no muss. Just pure, satisfying release 
awaits as he climbs on to the table, hands roughly gripping 
sore, burnt flesh. He caresses her wounds - his doing and grows 
more satisfied in his anticipation, less frustrated but still 
yearning for release. He presses down on her shattered fingers 
just to hear her scream, feel her body shake with pain and 
terror before finally invading her small, torn body and 
releasing his pent-up rage and energy. 

His body satiated, he got up and lit another smoke - eyes 
gleaming as he continued to examine her naked body.  "You make 
it so hard on both of us, Agent Scully. I mean this is 
ridiculous - I have to find out what you know but I just can't 
seem to get you to cooperated. This just will not do. I mean I 
really need this information and if I can't get it from you 
then I suppose we'll just have to get it out of that partner of 
yours."
"NO!" she screamed, using every ounce of energy she had. 

"What's that, Agent Scully? Don't want us to bring Agent Mulder 
in here and give him a little taste of my questioning 
techniques?"

Her heart races - he was obviously trying to goad her into a 
confession by threatening Mulder but she couldn't take the 
chance - he was obviously capable of grabbing Mulder and 
'questioning' him too. "Don't touch him, you bastard," she 
managed through gritted teeth. 

"Well, well, well - don't tell me it was this easy all along. 
And I'm usually so good at knowing which buttons to press... So 
tell me everything Agent Scully or else you get to have a front 
row seat in tomorrow's interrogation of Agent Mulder."

She fought the conflicting opinions thrashing about in her 
weary mind. If she told him what she knew then she would no 
longer be of any use to them... But the alternative was 
infinitely worse. There was, of course, the off chance that he 
wouldn't follow-up on his threat - but that was too big a risk 
to take. She really had no choice. 

"Fine. You win. What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

So with a voice tired from screaming she told him everything 
she knew and was surprised to leave the torture chamber alive. 

As she was thrown back into her tiny concrete cell to await 
death with pain as her only companion, only one though crossed 
her mind before blissful darkness took over. 

"Forgive me Mulder."

			******
FBI Seattle Field Office
Seattle, Washington
2:49 pm


He had it narrowed down to just fourteen possibilities but it 
was still too many. Agents were investigating the different 
paramilitary groups on the list but the bases were spread right 
across Washington state with many in remote locations. He was 
so close - both to the answer and to collapse. So close - one 
more clue would break it. So close. Sitting back and allowing 
himself a rare five minute break, he rubbed his temples tiredly 
and tortured himself with the image, the feel of Scully rubbing 
his head just a couple of days ago. 

"Agent Mulder?" the voice was even more timid than on the 
previous day. 

He opened his eyes and looked up to see the same agent as the 
day before - 'damn what the hell is his name anyways?' standing 
nervously with a tape in his hand. 

"Is it...?" Mulder managed bleakly, heart in his throat, head 
beginning to pound even harder. 

The young agent nodded apprehensively. 

Mulder reached out and took the tape which again bore Scully's 
name. For a second he stared at it bleakly as if unsure what to 
do with it but then stood wearily and let the young agent lead 
the way to the conference room where, again, all the others 
were gathered and waiting. 

His hand trembled visible as he slipped the tape into the 
machine and pressed play. 

Sitting down, determined to survive the experience stoically - 
no more puking your brains out Mulder, that's not going to help 
her - he was unable to stick with the plan when he watched the 
bastard in the balaclava take her little finger in his hand and 
start to pull it back . He knew all too well what was going to 
happen and knew from personal experience the pain that she felt 
as her finger was easily snapped by her torturer's strong grip. 
His stomach turned and his heart wrenched with each scream and 
he felt his breath race as each successive finger was snapped. 
He couldn't start to imagine the pain of three fingers 
violently broken - her small, gentle hands torn apart, the pain 
in her eyes, her voice calling out to him, waves and waves of 
nausea as the cigarettes come out and now he wants to scream 
with her, he feels the terror as if it were his own as the 
fucking animal smokes calmly before putting each cigarette out 
on her - his beautiful partner, his best friend, his love. He 
feels the sizzle, the burn and his stomach is heaving and it is 
all he can do to control the need to run, to hide from the 
agony of the pictures, the torture, because he knows what's 
coming and wants to cry, to scream, to kill, as the fucking 
asshole gets up on the table and... and... and... 

He doesn't realize he's crying, that he's bitten into his lower 
lip, that he's curled up in his seat as if to shield himself 
from the images on the screen. And then awareness comes back 
with a vengeance when he hears his name, hears what the bastard 
is saying and he knows it's almost over - it's the endgame and 
he prays to a non-existent god that she will not do what she 
obviously will do. 

"No!" he screams at the television showing Scully signing her 
own death sentence, spilling her guts to save him. "Don't do it 
Scully - I'm not worth it!" he doesn't care what they think, 
that they're there. The bastards are going to kill her and she 
did it to save him. It was his fault. His fault. His fault. 

They were staring at him, at his agony, unsure what to do. They 
too knew that the woman on the screen, the fiery redhead who 
had held up against unimaginable torture had given her life for 
his. What could they say?

All eyes were on him.... 'focus, Mulder, focus she's still alive 
you can still save her if you focus...' but the images, her voice 
tore through his head, his heart, his soul. How could she give 
up after all she'd been through?

One by one they left the room, still unable to say anything to 
the grief-stricken agent. 

'Focus. Think. She's still alive. You have to kill him. You 
have to find him and kill him and save her because she's still 
alive. You would feel it, know it, if she weren't. You have to 
think Mulder...'

And then it was there - he knew who they were, where they were. 
The voice from the door on the tape. 'We're back across.' 
Across? obviously across water. Only one group had a base on an 
island. It was it. He had it. 

He tore out of the conference room back to his pile of files 
and pulled out the offending folder. 'United Americans' - a 
harmless sounding mane for a group practiced in torture and 
terror. He was so hyped on fear and excitement he couldn't stop 
from running out into the main office space, file in hand, 
shouting "I got it! I got it! Get everyone available together 
right now and let's go get these fuckers!" 

Everyone turned to look at the subject of every office rumour, 
conversation. He certainly looked the part of something to talk 
about - yesterday's clothes wrinkled and messy, shirt untucked, 
collar undone, tie nowhere to be seen, hair sticking up wildly, 
huge bags under his bloodshot eyes, extraordinarily pale 
complexion, shiny sheen of cold sweat. He looked like a classic 
example of a person in shock and it was hard to take anything 
he was saying very seriously. 

"Give us a break, Mulder - put the damn files down, go to your 
hotel and get some sleep before you drive the rest of us crazy 
too," Dollin called from his office. 

"Fuck you sir. I've got it and I'm going now. If anyone wants 
to come arrest some criminals and save an agent's life then 
they're welcome to come along. Now," he said, already on his 
way out the door. 

But he wasn't alone - all the agents who had witnessed the 
videos, save Dollin, were right on his tail, ready to follow 
him on the off-chance that he was right. Saari ran to catch up 
with him.

"Agent Mulder - where are we going?" she asked. "It'll be 
easier for all of us to get there if we have directions."

Mulder stopped and nodded briskly. He waited for the agents to 
gather around him and then gave a short briefing on the group 
and its location. 

"It's on an island?" asked Saari. "How are we going to get 
across the water?" 

Mulder looked at her with gratefulness - in his immense hurry 
he hadn't even considered the practicalities of the mission. 
"Get someone to drive a couple of boats up and make sure they 
get them there fast. We'll go up first to check it out and plan 
our attack." Mulder ordered, already on his way to his car when 
he heard the command passed along on the radio. 

			******
Just outside of Seattle
4:37 pm


He made it there first, of course, driving like a maniac up the 
tree-lined road into the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest. 
The lake was close to six kilometres off the road and he 
valiantly resisted the urge to just run for it before the 
others even showed up - they had to go in together or else they 
might never meet up in the dense forest. Luckily, the others 
had been nearly as eager as he had been to get there and were 
at his side in a matter of minutes. 

"Okay - follow me," he said quietly as he made his first steps 
into the woods, moving briskly towards the lake. 

A few minutes later he could resist no longer and had begun to 
run towards the target at a demanding pace, knowing that the 
others would now be able to follow his path of destruction 
through the bush. A half hour later he was standing at the edge 
of a pristine wilderness lake, looking out at a largish island 
perched a few kilometres from the shore. A small motorboat was 
anchored at a small dock and a military-style building stood in 
sharp contrast to the beautiful natural surroundings. 

He was so close he could almost taste it. Where the hell were 
the rest of them?

He was almost in the water when the rest of the agents arrived 
at the scene to witness him rolling up his pants and stripping 
down to a t-shirt. 

"Agent Mulder - the boats are coming. You can't seriously think 
you're going to swim out there! It's freezing!" one of the 
agents said in disbelief. 

"The boats won't make it through those woods - at least not for 
a few hours at least. Scully doesn't have a few hours - I'm 
going NOW." And with that he was in the water, leaving the 
other six agents standing on shore, mouths gaping. It was 
March - the water in the mountain lakes around Seattle could be 
unbearable, even in the summer - and he was wearing pants and a 
t-shirt. But he certainly was making good time....

He was right - the water was fucking cold but Mulder's 
adrenaline kept pumping and pushing him through the icy fluid, 
one stroke at a time. He could see the island getting closer 
and closer and that was more than enough to propel him forward 
and in no time at all - or so it seemed to his overly juiced 
system - he was there, climbing out of the chilly water and 
onto the island. 

			******

"Sir, we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"There's an intruder on the island."

"What?!"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck. They're here. The fucking fibbies are here. How did this 
happen?"

"I don't know sir. What should we do?"

"What should we do?! What should we do?! We're fucked. We 
evacuate. Destroy all the evidence that we can't take with us."

"Can't we just eliminate the problem sir?"

"If he's here then they all know and more will come or are 
already here - across the water. We have to evacuated. Sound 
the alarm and get everyone moving on destroying the evidence."

"What about the woman?"

He considered it for a second. 

"Leave her where she is - there isn't time to do anything about 
her and we can't take her with us. She doesn't know any more 
than she ever did. Now, get moving."

"Yes sir"

			******
Paramilitary Facility
Outside of Seattle, Washington
5:22 pm

The doors were all coded and impossible to unlock. Mulder 
glared at them in frustration, as if willing them to open by 
thought alone. 

And then his prayers were answered as activity suddenly poured 
through open doors - men running in and out carrying papers and 
equipment. 

'Shit - they know I'm here,' though Mulder as he hid, waiting 
for his chance to get it. 

And there it was - no one coming in or out, just an open door 
for him to slip through. 

The interior of the building was as bleak as the video made it 
out to be with concrete room upon concrete room extending 
throughout. He heard footsteps starting down the hall and 
barely made it into a room to hide from the goon making his way 
down the hall with a box of files in his hands. Heart racing, 
gun at the ready, Mulder made sure it was clear and continued 
down the hall, thanking the powers that be for the relatively 
insecure interior doors -apparently they didn't think anyone 
was going to get into the base. Frantically he ran down the 
hall, checking each room quickly until finally he came to the 
sight that would stay in his head forever. 

There she lay, naked, tightly curled up on the rough concrete 
floor, oblivious to the action happening in the building. 
Quickly, with trembling hands, he picked the lock and then he 
was there, by her side, touching her hair, her face, staring in 
terror, in pain at her bruises, burns, afraid to touch much of 
her broken body. 

"Scully!" he whispered loudly into her ear. "Scully!"

There was no response and he began to worry about getting her 
out of there without running into the paramilitary types. It 
was going to be hard if he had to carry her. 

"Scully!" he tried again, this time gently gripping her 
shoulders and shaking her carefully. "Scully, you gotta wake up 
for me. We've got to get out of here."
					
			******

The easyness, the simplicity of the darkness, was interrupted 
by a new sensation - warmth mixed with a dull ache on her 
shoulders. Slowly coming to, her first reaction of intense 
fear - they were back to get her, to bring her back to the 
room, the balaclava-clad man, the torture - but then her 
instinct to recoil, to lash out, was curiously abated. Somehow 
she knew this touch - not consciously - but it brought a little 
comfort and allowed her to approach consciousness without fear. 

She opened her eyes and was simultaneously shocked and not at 
all surprised to see her partner's hazel eyes, heavy with 
concern, boring into her icy blues. 

"Scully!" he gasped with relief. "We've got to get out of 
here - can you stand?"

He helped her slip out of the bindings that held her legs and 
arms and gently pulled her to her feet, wincing at the gasp of 
pain she emitted as she just managed to stand.

"Are you okay, Scully?" he asked stupidly. 'of course she's not 
okay stupid - you saw the tapes - you see her injuries'

But she only nodded and even managed a very weak "I'm fine," as 
he helped her to the door, each painful step tearing at her 
tortured body, his tortured soul. They were halfway to the exit 
when she began to shake violently and became even more unsteady 
on her feet. 

"Mulder - I'm so cold," she whispered with very little 
strength. 

He looked at her in dismay. She was trembling uncontrollable 
and was wet from being held up against his wet clothes. 

"I know, Scully," he said in a panicky voice. "I'm sorry, I 
know this is hard but I'm all wet - my clothes wouldn't make 
you any warmer. We're almost there - I know you can make it." 

Through the shaking she managed a slight nod. "Okay," she 
gasped, letting him pull her further down the hall. 

To Mulder, the length of the hall seemed to have multiplied 
infinitely as he dragged his semi-conscious partner towards the 
exit. 'C'mon Scully, you're going to make it. You're going to 
be fine.' this was his silent mantra as they struggled towards 
the door. 'C'mon Scully...'

And finally they were there, hadn't encountered any 
paramilitary types, were both still breathing as they stepped 
out into the damp day and faced their next obstacle with a 
double of straight dread chased with a small dose of panic. 
They rested for the shortest of instants on the shore, 
regarding the water warily as they caught their breath. 

"Okay Scully - all you gotta do is keep breathing okay? Just 
keep breathing and I'll do the rest. You think you can make 
it?" Mulder asked, feeling another dose of pure adrenaline 
beginning to course through his body with the anticipation of 
pulling his partner across the water. 

"No problem," she gasped, hoping she sounded more confident 
than she felt. 

The water was beyond cold, was torture against her already 
clammy skin, against her open wounds and it didn't help that 
Mulder had to hold onto her ribs in order to pull her, rescue-
swimmer style, towards the other side. 

"Breathe, Scully!" he gasped between breaths as he continued to 
pull her through the water but he couldn't tell if she was 
following his orders. 

His body now running on adrenaline alone, Mulder finally made 
it to the shore and let strong awaiting arms help him carry 
Scully onto land. 

"Breathe Scully!" he yelled, checking if she was. "Breathe!" 

"Everyone's jackets, shirts, anything. NOW!" he yelled even as 
he had his head down near her mouth and chest, checking for 
breathing. 

She wasn't breathing. 

She isn't breathing, she isn't breathing, tilt her head back, 
open airway, ohfucksheisn'tbreathing. two breaths in check they 
go in check pulse two breaths... and then she was coughing, 
spitting up lake water, groaning at the intense agony of 
coughing with broken ribs. The look in his eyes expressed the 
limits of human relief but there was no time to stop and talk, 
it was time to start moving. 

Quickly he dried Scully off with someone's shirt and helped her 
struggle into a t-shirt and jacket. Then, using more jackets, 
he wrapped her legs up warmly. "Better, Scully? Warmer?" he 
asked, eyes full of concern and empathy. 

She managed a weak nod. 

She looked so small and vulnerable, so broken and hurt. There 
was no time but he couldn't help himself - he had to hold her - 
if even just for a second. She was shaking with shock, 
exhaustion, and cold as he slipped his arms around her and 
pulled himself closer to her, eyes locked. He wanted to hold 
her forever but settled for a few seconds before gently kissing 
her on the forehead and letting go. Turning to face his 
slightly embarrassed colleagues, all trying not to watch the 
little scene in various states of undress, Mulder nodded 
towards the woods and they were off with Mulder and another 
agent gently carrying Scully. 

The distance to the road seemed to have increased substantially 
in the previous few hours and Mulder was almost convinced that 
they had turned in the wrong direction somehow when they 
finally made it back to their vehicles. Carefully, they helped 
Scully into the back seat of Mulder's car and they were off - 
back to Seattle, in search of a hospital. 

			******
En Route to University of Washington Medical Centre
Seattle, Washington
6:06 pm


He had one eye on the road and one on his partner. Similarly, 
he had one hand on the wheel and one holding Scully's less-
injured hand. 

"You okay back there?" he asked, hoping it didn't sound as 
stupid as he thought. 

Scully gave him a very weak and tired smile. "I'm fine, 
Mulder," she whispered. 

He had to grin. He couldn't imagine a less fine situation to be 
in. The shit she had been through those last two days... but 
somehow he knew that she was right - she was fine - nobody 
could ever permanently keep her down. Damn - he loved her so 
much. Everything about her was amazing. And she was his to 
love. He had to kill that bastard. Someday - no matter how long 
it took, he would personally make the fucker pay dearly for the 
pain he had put her through. The mere thought of the tapes, 
never mind the flashbacks of video, was enough to give him the 
chills and demobilize all coherent though for a moment. 

"Hey Scully, we're here. You're going to be okay," he said, 
pulling into the emergency entrance of the University of Washington Medical Centre with a squealing stop. 

Previously alerted hospital staff were waiting for them with a 
stretcher and she was quickly transferred onto it from the back 
seat. And then they were running with her down the hall and a 
nurse physically stopped him from following into the restricted 
area and suggested that he park his car and fill out her forms 
while he waited. And it certainly wasn't the first time he had 
been prevented from following his hurting partner into the 
restricted areas of various hospitals but the effect never lost 
its impact on his heart. Again and again it felt like being 
crushed and his face showed the dismay he felt at being 
restrained. However, being left without much of a choice, he 
did as was demanded and dutifully parked and filled out the 
much-too-familiar forms. 

Then the torturous wait began. 

Simultaneously, the cycle of relentless pacing followed by 
short spells of sitting looking very depressed began and that 
was the state the other agents found him in when they arrived 
behind him. 

They had all come, feeling a sense of duty towards a fellow 
agent even though they didn't really even know her. After all 
she had been through - they wanted to at least show a bit of 
support, do something other than go home to a normal nighttime 
routine. But it turned out to be difficult and wearing just to 
be there with Mulder and his intense pain - they felt as if 
they weren't deserving of being there, that they were somehow 
embarrassing both him and themselves at the same time. Maybe it 
was because there was nothing to say to him - even more so than 
usual - but whatever it was, it certainly created an 
uncomfortable situation. And when it because obvious that they 
would be in for a long haul - after Mulder in exhaustively 
questioned any medical personnel to walk through the doors 
through which they had taken her and only got wary, weary, 
looks and imprecise comments such as "she's in surgery right 
now and its difficult to tell how long it'll be" - the others 
slowly faded away with quiet goodbyes and good wishes. 

So he was alone again, still pacing, still depressed, still 
very much agitated. He nearly jumped a mile when his phone 
suddenly rang. 

"Mulder," he said, automatically answering. 

"Agent Mulder - I just heard what happened," Skinner's voice, 
grave with concern, replied. 
"Why didn't you notify me about Agent Scully's situation?" 

Why? He hadn't even thought of calling his boss. She went 
missing so many times on routine cases - this hadn't seemed so 
different until... the videos. 

"Um...sorry sir, I guess I was preoccupied," he managed. 

"How is she, Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked. 

"I don't know sir, she's in surgery and no one will tell me 
anything.:

"I see."

.... a pause - uncomfortable and unsure. 

"Uh... is that all sir?"

"No, Agent Mulder, that is not all... Mulder - how are you 
holding up?"

Silence. 

On the other side, Skinner internally sighed. He had to voice 
his concern but he already knew the answer to his own very 
stupid question. In his head he could easily picture the 
scene - an extremely distressed Mulder pacing uncontrollably, 
threatening and harassing hospital staff, always apparently on 
the verge of tears. He had seen it before - too many times for 
his liking considering his particular infatuation with the 
enigmatic Agent Scully - and it was not a pleasant sight. 

"Mulder, she's going to be fine," he finally said, falling back 
on conventional pleasantries. "Keep me informed on her 
condition." 

"Yes, sir."

"And Mulder?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Take care of yourself."

"Thank you, sir."

They hung up and Skinner breathed somewhat heavily. It was so 
emotionally draining to talk to that man - his needs, his pain, 
transferred so easily when so plainly shown. He tried to 
imagine Mulder behaving in an ever-so-Mulderlike fashion - 
mentally berating himself while taking it out on innocent 
doctors, nurses. Shaking his head wearily, Skinner wondered if 
he should go down to Seattle, to do a little Mulder-sitting but 
decided that it would be too trying on his mental health - and 
he couldn't even begin to face Scully... what could he say to 
her - he had only heard reports on the situation but what he 
had heard was horrifying. No, better let his agents be alone to 
work on building back their strength before being harassed by 
their boss. 'Walt - you're a wimp.' he thought to himself upon 
making his decision. 

			******
University of Washington Medical Centre
Seattle, Washington
10:54 pm


He was standing tiredly, leaning against a wall, trying to 
resist the urge to bang his head against it. It had been hours 
but nobody had any real information. He was mentally and 
physically exhausted - too tired to properly pace but still too 
agitated to sit. So there he stood, eyes close, visions of her 
scarred body...

"Agent Mulder?"

He snapped to attention. "Yes?"

A young doctor, her hair short and messy, her eyes beyond 
tired, stood regarding him warily - apparently she had already 
heard accounts of his incessant harassing of the nurses. But 
she spoke with a hint of understanding in voice. "I'm Doctor 
Redden. Agent Scully is out of surgery. She's in recovery right 
now and we'll move her up to the ICU soon."

She paused as Mulder's eyes showed panic at the mention of the 
ICU but then continued. "She's not in any serious danger but 
there's a risk of infection and significant internal damage due 
to the number of broken ribs and violent blows to the abdomen. 
Combined with severe shock, slight hypothermia, dehydration, 
malnutrition, and other quite serious burns and wounds, we are 
being precautious - it's not everyday we see someone in this 
kind of state..." 

Mulder took it all in but could only turn it into one coherent 
question. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, tears in his 
voice. 

"Physically, she should be able to fully recover in a few 
months time - if everything goes well. There will have to be 
some physiotherapy of course and the first weeks will be quite 
painful... but I think the real question is how she will handle 
this all mentally. I mean.... what happened to her?" Dr. Redden, 
young eyes full of horror, asked, almost dropping her voice to 
a whisper. 

And all he could do was look away and shake his head, trying to 
ignore the images, unable to reply. Finally he managed to face 
the doctor and said "I don't think you want to know." No glib 
Mulder line. Just the truth.

From the look in his eyes she agree that she didn't want to 
know. 

"Can I see her?"

Dr. Redden shook her head sympathetically. "Not until she's out 
of recovery..." 

"Come on - I know how long that can take... I need to see her," 
Mulder said, no longer belligerent, now just hurting, needy. 

"Well...."

He knew he had her. "I really need to see her."

"Well, there's no one else around right now and I don't really 
mind. I mean it's against procedure but I can't see how it 
would hurt..."

Mulder's eyes gleamed with gratitude. 

"Through those doors, sixth room to the left - tell the nurses 
I approved it. Oh and be nice."

Mulder nodded, already halfway through the doors before a 
sobering question came to mind. Turning, he grabbed the 
doctor's arm. "Did you do a rape kit?" he asked quietly. 

She nodded. "It seemed to be prudent considering the nature of 
her injuries - it's not often that...torture...isn't accompanied by 
rape. It came back positive."

Mulder only nodded. "There were tapes."

Dr. Redden raised her eyebrows at this and watched as Mulder 
raced through the doors and down the hall. 

			******

She was so pale and small beneath all the bandages, wires, 
machines. Obviously he had seen her in that state before and - 
though he fervently wished it not to be so - would see her like 
that in the future. But repetition did not dull the pain in any 
way and he could hardly bear sitting there, her hand lightly 
held in his - her left hand, the one with 'only' a deep 
cigarette burn on it. How long before he could hold her right 
hand? How long before she could use it? Would she be okay?

She had been raped. 

It was so hard to keep the images out of his head as he watched 
her breathe. At some point he began to speak to her, to 
himself, chanting his mantra repetitively. 'You're going to be 
okay. You're going to be okay.'

			******

The nurses came in a few hours later to take the two of them to 
ICU - curious to see the one in a million that managed to 
squeeze their way into the elusive recovery room. And when they 
say him, still awake, still perched by her bed, looking 
absolutely terrible but content in staring at her - they knew 
why he had gotten in. 

Then they were in the ICU - a familiar environment - he thought 
wryly to himself. 

She looked the same - covered in tubes and wrapping - 
surrounded by beeping monitors - and her hand felt the same - 
warm but unmoving. 

The nurse had mentioned that she might not wake up for quite 
awhile - a mixture of previous shock and exhaustion mixed with 
anaesthetic and surgery - but he sat, her hand in his, trying 
to will her to wake up, to look at him, talk to him, before he 
succumbed to his own exhaustion. 

He lost. He had basically been awake since she had been taken 
over 48 hours ago - going on less than two hours sleep 
altogether. He hadn't eaten anything in days. He had run miles 
and swam more. Her hand felt so warm and she looked so 
beautiful even then. Slowly, he drifted off, head leaning down 
next to her arm on the bed. 

			******

A twitch of her fingers woke him up with a start. 

"Hey, Scully, wake up," he said quietly near her ear. 

"Mmmm? I'm up Mulder...." she said groggily. 

His face lit up at her sleepy voice and watched as she opened 
her eyes. 

"Morning, Scully," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead 
lightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Hmmm? I think I've been better..." she replied, eyes slipping 
shut again. 

"Hey Scully - stay awake just for a sec 'kay?"

Why was it so hard for her to resist his pleading?

" 'kay Mulder....what for?" sleepy eyes opened to her partner's 
gaze. 

She had him there - he didn't have a good reason at all - it 
had been said on impulse, based on his need to talk to her, 
look into her eyes. So he remained silent but leaned closer and 
gently ran his thumb down her face, tracing her jaw line - all 
the while still lost in her icy blue eyes. And then a single 
tear almost simultaneously escaped both of their attempts to 
stay as unemotional as possible, as necessary. 

"Scully...." he started but couldn't think of what to say - was 
it too soon to address the many - so many - issues that she was 
bound to have? She did just wake up from surgery and wasn't 
known to be inclined to share her feelings at the best of 
times. But they had to talk about it sometime....

"It's okay, Mulder," she whispered. "It's going to be okay."
She found herself saying the words automatically - to appease 
his pain, his need for comfort, security. But she didn't even 
know if she was lying or not. How okay was she going to get? 
Even now she could tell something was missing, something had 
been taken by the ordeal, the torture. 

"No, Scully - it's not okay. What happened is not okay. You are 
not okay. I am definitely not okay." The tears were running 
freely now. "Jesus Scully, I can't believe you're alive - that 
you survived..." 

She shook her head slowly. "Not now, Mulder." And now it was 
her arm reaching to his fact and wiping off his tears. "I'm too 
tired to do this now." 

He nodded - of course she wasn't ready to talk about it - he 
was such an asshole! Pushing her to make himself feel better, 
to mollify his need to talk. "You're right Scully - I'm sorry," 
he said, emphatically drying his eyes. "You should get some 
more rest - we can talk about it later."

Scully nodded gratefully and closed her eyes, enjoying the 
comfort of his hand warm in hers. And then she knew she hadn't 
been lying - she was going to be fine. She had to be - for 
Mulder and for herself. She wouldn't let those bastards control 
her life. 

"But Mulder - it's really going to be okay," she said as she 
drifted off to sleep. 

			******

She awoke before he did and had a second to smile at his lanky 
body sleeping in an impossibly uncomfortable-looking sitting 
position before an intense wave of pain struck throughout her 
body and caused her muscles to seize. Feeling the effect of 
Scully's pain in the hand he was still holding in sleep, Mulder 
jolted awake. 

"Scully!" he cried out as he searched for the nurse alert 
button. "Scully, what's wrong? What's happening?"

"....it hurts...Mulder....hurts so..." through gritted teeth and 
tightly shut eyes. 

"'kay Scully, I'm on it - the nurse should be here any sec-"

"What happened?" asked the nurse as she came into the room. 

"I don't know - she just woke up in so much pain. You've got to 
give her something..." 

One look at the agony-stricken features on Scully's fact was 
enough to convince the nurse to inject a syringe of painkillers 
into the IV. And then almost instantly her muscles relaxed a 
little and she opened her eyes. 

Mulder began to breathe again. 

"Well, the painkillers are apparently not lasting as long as 
they should. A doctor will be down soon and we can get the 
dosage increased - or have you put on self-regulated 
painkillers, okay?" the nurse said on his way out. 

Scully nodded in response to the young nurse and relaxed into 
the bed once again, feeling the calming effect of Mulder's 
fingers softly brushing through loose strands of her hair. 

"Better?" he asked. 

She nodded. 

"Do you want me to call your mom?"

Thinking for a second, Scully then shook her head. "No - I 
don't think I could deal with that right now. I don't think I 
can talk to her about what happened."

He nodded in relief. He definitely didn't think he could deal 
with telling Maggie Scully about what had happened. 

An awkward silence. Eyes lost in eyes. 

Then "...how bad is it?"

She shook her head. She had known he would ask - he had to 
know, just as she always had to know when the situation was 
reversed. But just as he never fully divulged the truth, she 
would, in keeping with her personality, their relationship, 
never quite reveal everything either. Especially not right then 
when she hadn't even had time to catalogue her feelings, her 
needs, her fears. 

"Mulder, it's going to be okay. I'm going to be fine. You're 
going to be fine. But I can't.... right now. But I know that 
we're going to make it through this. Like we always do." 

"This isn't the same Scully - this time it's different" 

She knew what he meant but still wasn't biting. 

"No, Mulder - it's not. Just believe me. It's going to be 
okay." 

He looked at her determined expression and though about how 
ridiculous it was for Scully to be comforting him. She was so 
beautiful, lying there, eyes sneaking looks at him when she 
thought he was looking away. Of course she was going to be 
okay - she was Scully - strong, determined, amazing - she 
wouldn't give up now. And somewhere - maybe only in his 
subconscious - he knew she would be fine because he needed her 
to be fine and she would overcome anything to give him what he 
so desperately needed. 

"You're right, Scully. We're going to be fine." he whispered 
into her ear just as she fell asleep again, the buzz of the 
painkillers carrying her off. 

			******
University of Washington Medical Centre
Seattle, Washington
2:41 pm

"Well, Dana - it seems sadistic to say this - but you were 
lucky. Physically you could recover fully in less than two 
months - even your hand should be fine with some physio. How 
are you feeling?" Dr. Redden had arrived and found Scully awake 
for her morning rounds, looking tired but strong. Mulder, on 
the other hand, had been asleep in a ridiculous position and, 
when awakened, looked unsteady. 

"I feel much better," Scully said truthfully. Maybe it was the 
painkillers talking but she felt alright for the first time in 
a while. Sure it still hurt to move or breathe but not nearly 
as much as before. 

"Good. We're gradually reducing your meds and you can go home 
in a day or two though you'll need to have somebody change the 
bandages and help you get around for a while as your hand and 
ribs heal."

Scully nodded, internally wincing - it was going to be hard to 
get rid of Mulder after he heard that - and it was getting a 
bit uncomfortable with him around all the time. There was so 
much to talk about but she couldn't even imagine where, how, to 
start. 

"As for you, Agent Mulder - you look like shit. Get some 
sleep - in a horizontal position - and some food - NOT from the 
cafeteria," Redden did her best to glare at the weary agent but 
failed to even come close to the effect of a Scully-glare. 

Mulder nodded his "I'm ignoring you" nod and was almost home 
free when he felt Scully's ice cold blue eyes glaring at him. 

Damn.

He turned and smiled sheepishly - a 'I had to try' kind of 
grin - and she smiled too - trying to hold it back but hard to 
do when he just wanted to stay with her. Like the too many 
times she had wanted to stay with him. 

"Get some sleep Mulder - I'm fine. And..."

"And?"

"I think I have to call my mom." She did not sound 
enthusiastic. 

He nodded soberly. "What are you going to tell her?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'll think of something plausible."

Again he nodded. He wasn't sure what to think. He certainly 
couldn't face telling Maggie Scully what had happened to her 
daughter and wasn't surprised that Scully didn't' want to 
either. But she had to tell someone what happened. And it 
didn't look like she was going to tell him. 

"Scully - you know you have to talk to someone about it..." 

"Not yet Mulder," she snapped almost before he finished his 
sentences. 

He nodded in defeat. Who was he to tell her what to do - she 
was the one who survived, who had to deal with what happened. 
He was just being the inconsiderate psychologist. But she 
couldn't ignore it...

"Mulder - I swear I will. Just not right now. Not yet." 

He looked into her eyes and nodded. 

"And she was right, Mulder - you look like shit. Go to the 
hotel . Sleep. Shower. Eat. I will be here when you get back in 
three hours. I'll even be here if you take ten hours. But go. 
And I'll see you in three hours." 

No arguments. 

He nodded and stood, stretching. He sure felt like shit. Maybe 
Scully was onto something with the sleeping thing....

"Okay. You win. I'll see you soon." he said, still holding her 
hand by the fingertips. 

She squeezed his fingers. "Goodnight Mulder."

He nodded and let go. 

			******
University of Washington Medical Centre
Seattle, Washington
9:22 am

"You ready to go, Dana?"

Scully nodded as she let Dr. Redden help her into the 
wheelchair for the ride to the car. 

"How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

Redden wasn't surprised. 

Mulder was waiting at the entrance, impatient, still a bit 
edgy, it had been a long time since he had felt calm in any 
way. Finally they showed up, Scully impatient with being 
wheeled around. 

"Hey - ready to go?" he asked. 

She nodded and pointfully got up and slipped easily into the 
car before Redden and Mulder managed to try to help her. 

"Thanks Doctor - for everything," she called from the car. 

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, thanks. And well, sorry." 

"No worries Agent Mulder - something you should try remembering."

			******
Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, Washington DC
6:31 pm

"Look Scully - just for a couple of days! You really shouldn't 
be alone," Mulder tried, aghast at her stubbornness.

"Why not? Look Mulder - it's not like I've never had broken 
bones before - I'll be fine." 

She was not going to budge on this one. She was not going to be 
watched every minute and they were not going to spend days in 
uncomfortable silence. He was not going to stay. 

"Go home, Mulder. Please."

He looked hurt. He was hurt. 

"I'm sorry. I appreciate your concern Mulder but I need to be 
alone for a bit. I'm fine. Go home."

It took all his strength to restrain the asshole in him that 
wanted to scream and shout "YOU ARE NOT FINE!" but for once he 
managed to just nod and turn away dejectedly. 

Damn. How did he manage to make her feel so guilty? He looked 
like a puppy that had been kicked as he shuffled slowly down 
the hall away from her apartment. 

"Mulder!"

He stopped shuffling as she walked slowly towards him but 
remained silent, ever wary of the asshole inside. She got 
closer and closer before lightly wrapping her arms around him 
and he had to resist the urge to pull her into a crushing 
embrace. 

"I really am sorry, Mulder but I really need some time to work 
this out for myself and then we'll talk okay?"

God he was such a jerk! She was apologizing to him?! 

"No, Scully, I'm sorry. I'm such a jerk! You're right." 

At that, she looked up and, predictably, arched an eyebrow at 
him. "I'm what, Mulder?" she asked with a small smile. 

He couldn't help it, he grinned too as he looked at her smile 
and repeated himself. "You're right, Scully." 

"Goodnight Mulder - see you tomorrow," she said, releasing her 
arms. 

"Goodnight Scully," he replied and applied a light kiss to her 
forehead. "Sleep well." 

"You too, Mulder," she said, already back at her door and 
closing it. 

He stood there for a second just staring at the closed door 
before slowly making his way home. 

			******
FBI Headquarters,
Washington, DC
6:26 am


The next day he arrived at the office even earlier than usual 
and then proceeded to wait impatiently. 

Coffee after coffee helped to make him hyper but other than 
that, nothing happened. But she had said she was coming in - 
against any sensibility she had swore she was fine - broken 
ribs and fingers aside - and would be at the office that day. 
Finally he could resist no longer and grabbed the phone. 

"Hi Mulder," she said, picking up the phone. 

"Hey Scully," he relied. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Except I don't think I'm coming in today." 

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Mulder. Everything's fine. I'm just a little tired, 
that's all."

"Want me to bring something by? Skinner won't mind if I take 
off...."

"No, Mulder - I'm fine. I just need to do some thinking on my 
own. I'll see you soon."

'I'll see you soon?' What did that mean? Alarm bells began to 
blare in his head. 

"When, Scully?"

"I don't know, Mulder - when I'm ready. I'll call you." There 
was no arguing with that voice and he heard the warning loud 
and clear. It hurt and he had to resist exploding but she was 
right, she deserved whatever she needed. He just wished she 
needed him. 

"Okay Scully," he managed to choke out. 

"Talk to you soon?" 

"Soon, Mulder."

"Bye, Scully."

And with that all the hope of the day was gone and all that 
remained was a barely started report that he wasn't sure he 
could finish. 

			******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
4:20 pm


Three days later the report remained unfinished and she still 
hadn't called. It had taken every ounce of will power to resist 
the need to call, make sure she was okay. But the consequences 
of pissing her off royally held him at bay. 

Three days! What was she trying to do to him? He was useless - 
Skinner had stopped trying to get him to do anything after the 
second day but he kept coming in to the office for lack of 
anything else to do. At least he could pretend to be working 
though everything sailed idly past his agitated mind. 'She was 
strong. She could handle it. She just needed some time,' he 
repeated to himself endlessly. But it was of little use. What 
if this was it - the breaking point? How much did she have to 
suffer before it was too much? Maybe she wasn't okay at all -  
he knew she was still there at home, he saw her shadow at night 
from his carefully concealed vehicle - but maybe she needed him 
and was waiting for him to call, unable to reach out herself.... 

He was at a loss - to call or not to call...

He sat and debated through the work day until he realized it 
was time to leave and sit outside her apartment for another 
night. 

			******
Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, Washington DC
6:48 pm


Three days. She knew what it must have been doing to him but 
couldn't bring herself to call. Physically she felt better - 
still very sore but able to get around and it was getting 
better everyday. Mentally, she wasn't sure. There were 
nightmares of course and she ha even had a minor panic attack 
when she had thought about talking about her ordeal. Logically 
she knew she had to talk about it to someone but she still 
wasn't sure she could. She couldn't believe he hadn't broken 
down and called and mentally berated herself for putting him 
through such hell. It was almost enough to get her to pick up 
the phone. Almost but not quite. The thought of having to spill 
it all - to tell him her thoughts, feelings, fears - was enough 
to keep the phone on its cradle. She walked over to the window 
and stared at the lonely figure in the non-descript car across 
the street for a minute before sitting back down on the couch. 

			******

He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care what she thought or 
did. He had to know. He had to see her, talk to her, feel her 
presence. 

He got out of the car. 

			******

"Scully!" he yelled as he pounded on her door. "Scully, let me 
in! I know you're in there, Scully!"

No response. 

"Scully! Come on - we have to talk - let me in!"

"Jesus Scully! Let me in or one of your neighbours is going to 
call the cops!"

"Scully! PLEASE let me in!"

"Okay, Scully, two can play this game. You take your time - 
I'll be sitting right here when you decide to let me in - 
whether it's tonight or next week."

And with that he sat down, leaning against her door, ready to 
wait her out. 

Twenty minutes later he was hunched over, slightly dozing when 
the door slowly slid open. The movement woke him and he looked 
up with a forlorn expression on his face. 

She stood there silently as he slowly stood up and faced her 
but then broke the almost reverent silence with a quiet "come 
in, Mulder." 

He followed her in and they sat down on the couch facing each 
other a little apprehensively.

Mulder finally spoke. "Sorry Scully - I tried to... give you some 
time but..."

He looked so contrite - like he was afraid that he would blow 
this and she would leave him forever. She shook head and smiled 
wanly. 

"No, Mulder - I'm glad you came - I think I've been stalling, 
secretly waiting for you to come and force the issue."

He stared blankly - had he waited too long? was she alright?  
she looked a little shaky but...

Right on cue, she said. "Mulder, I'm fine."

He shook his head. "Scully..."

"And I think I'm ready to talk about what happened."

Now all he could do was not fall over from shock. 

Scully?! Ready to talk?! 

With a slight grin at his reaction, she moved a little closer 
on the couch. 

"But it has to be now. Just me and you. No tape - I'll do one 
for evidence later. We do it now and after that this is over, 
discussed and done with. I don't mean ignore it or pretend it 
didn't happen but it's in the past and we're moving on." 

Mulder just nodded obediently. Apparently she had thought this 
through. Thoroughly. And she was speaking in that no nonsense 
tone of voice. 

"Okay Scully - it's your show," he said quietly. 

She took a deep breath and exhaled calmly. 

"Well, you saw the tapes."

Mulder winced in confirmation.

"And I remember it so vividly but now it's not overwhelming 
anymore and in a way I felt so removed from the situation even 
at the time. I was so scared, Mulder. Scared of what he was 
going to do... of what he did do to me..."

She paused as if in rememberance and began to shiver a little. 
Mulder viciously debated whether to touch her - he didn't want 
to invade her space, especially considering what she was 
remembering. But in the end he couldn't help himself. Reaching 
out, he pulled her close, feeling her shivers die down as she 
leaned up against him. She flashed him a small smile before 
continuing. 

"But that wasn't really what scared me... the whole time I was 
just waiting for him to figure it out and then I would be dead. 
And the worst part was how good death sounded in comparison to 
the torture. It seemed like such an easy way out."

She bit her lip and stopped for a beat and his calculating mind 
tried to see where she was going with her story. He didn't like 
what he saw. 

"It would have been so easy just to give up but I couldn't. I 
had to fight it, no matter how much it hurt, even though I was 
sure I would die as soon as I stopped trying to stay alive. I 
was in shock and I was almost ready to let go but...."

God! Why was it so hard for her to say it? 

She looked at her partner through teary eyes and saw the pain 
in his equally wet eyes. He knew where she was going but she 
still didn't want to say it. 

"Scully....if this is too hard...." he whispered, trying to give 
her a way out. 

She shook her head. If she could survive torture for Mulder she 
was strong enough to tell him so. If their relationship was to 
go anywhere she had to do it. 

"I was so scared, Mulder. I was so scared for you. For what 
would happen to you if... if I gave in. I was just waiting for 
him to figure it out, get me to talk, and then I'd be dead. It 
sounded so good but then I just couldn't... couldn't leave you 
like that." 

His heartbeat quickened a bit as he heard her words. Of course 
he had known what she had gone through - it would have been the 
same had their roles been reversed. But to hear her say it.... It 
created such a vivid picture in his mind of Scully strapped 
down, fighting death only because he would never survive if she 
wer to give in...

What had he ever done to deserve her?

"I'm sorry, Scully," he whispered.

"Don't be, Mulder, because, otherwise, I wouldn't be here" she 
replied. "And now I think I'm okay Mulder. Because I wasn't 
scared of that man because of the torture or because he raped 
me. I was just scared for you and now we're both going to be 
fine."

He had visibly winced at the 'R' word but kept quiet and now 
she looked right into his eyes and let him read her soul. And 
what he saw there was what she had said. Ironically, having had 
so many terrible things happen to them made each subsequent 
even less traumatic. Only Scully could be tortured and raped 
and put it all out of mind because 'it wasn't that bad'.

"Scully?"

"mmmm? yeah, Mulder?"

"Thanks"

"Thank you, Mulder."

"Scully?"

"mmmm, yeah Mulder?"

"I love you, Scully." 

She paused just long enough for him to stop breathing. 

'Shit, Mulder! Why did you just say that? You're such a 
DUMBASS!' he mentally berated himself in the silence. 

"Love you too, Mulder," she finally replied. 

She was rewarded with the goofiest grin she had ever seen on 
his face and couldn't help but smile too. 

"Let's go to bed, Mulder - we have work to do tomorrow. I'm 
sure Skinner wants the case report before the next millennium" 

He let go of her and watched as she slowly stood up and 
shuffled to the bedroom on shaky legs. When she reached the 
doorway she turned around and gave him a questioning look. 

"You coming, Mulder?"

She didn't have to ask twice. Instantly he was at her side and 
guiding her into bed. When she was carefully settled, he 
climbed in beside her and pulled her to him gently. 

"More comfortable than your car, Mulder?" Scully whispered 
mischievously as she started to drift off. 

"God, I love you, Scully."

			*******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
8:57 am

It felt good to back at the office, to have something to do 
other than think about spilling her guts to Mulder. Even the 
stale coffee perked her spirits as she started on the long-
overdue case report. 

"Let me do that, Scully - you should be taking it easy."

"Mulder, I think Skinner wants this today," she replied in 
annoyance. 

"But, Scully..."

She hit him with the glare and ended the conversation. Then, as 
if on cue, the phone rang. 

"Mulder," he said, picking it up. 

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir." click. 

"Skinner wants us up there with the report at one."

Scully just nodded, engrossed in her work.

			******

Just before one they got up to go, Mulder leading his partner 
with a light touch and a concerned eye. She still moved very 
gingerly and even breathing was still painful. He knew all too 
well what she was going through and winced every time she did 
as they slowly strode through the crowded bullpen. 

But on this day, no one would be close enough to jostle her 
broken ribs or her bruised legs. In fact, it was like the 
parting of the Red Sea - as they walked by, the entire room 
fell silent and everyone stared while moving aside. 

News, especially shocking gossip, travelled fast and the 
description of the tape had quickly gotten to DC from Seattle. 
Now all they could do was gape as Scully walked through, all 
business as usual, just barely a week after it had all 
happened. The silence was extremely uncomfortable as were the 
pitying looks and horrified glances but Mulder and Scully tried 
to ignore it all as they quickened their pace. 

			******
AD Skinner's Office
12:52 pm

Even Skinner could barely refrain from staring at the 
diminutive red-headed agent who was all strength as she handed 
him a report detailing the excruciating torture she had been 
subjected to. 

"Agent Scully, I can't say how glad I am to see you here," 
Skinner began with an all business facade that both Mulder and 
Scully saw right through. 

"Thank you, sir," she replied, equally business-like. 

"And it is the bureau's every intention to catch the group that 
did this and bring them to justice," Skinner continued, still 
trying not to stare. He had recently seen the tapes - copies 
had been sent from Seattle and he had forced himself to witness 
his agent's torture - a responsibility he had wanted 
desperately to shirk. He hoped his ridiculous schoolboy-esque 
crush on Scully remained a closely guarded secret but somehow 
he knew that they knew. It had been one of the most difficult 
things he had ever done - watched her be beaten and raped, 
watched her survive for Mulder's sake even as her small body 
was tortured again and again. 

"Sir?" Scully queried. "Are you all right?"

He grimaced at being caught lost in thought. "I think that's my 
line, Agent Scully," he replied. 

"I'm fine, sir," she said predictably. 

He hid a grin. "And that's definitely your line, Agent. Welcome 
back agents."

"Thank you sir," Mulder said, wincing a bit at Skinner's hint - 
that he hadn't been there either during her absence. Their boss 
was beginning to know them a little too well. 

			******
FBI Headquarters Bullpen
Washington, DC
1:22 pm

Going back through the bullpen was not something either agent 
looked forward to but there was no other way back to their 
office so they pretended not to notice the stares and whispers 
as they walked by. Or at least they pretended until they were a 
few steps from the elevator at which point Scully turned 
abruptly, leaving Mulder hanging with his arm still out. 

Staring down the roomful of agents, she surprised all of them 
with the strength of her voice and the ice in her glare. 

"Look, if any of you have something to say then say it now, to 
our faces. Otherwise, shut up at least until we're out of the 
room and at least pretend not to stare. Got it?"

Silence followed by a couple of shocked nods. 

Satisfied, Scully turned back towards the elevator and Mulder 
who was now staring at her like everyone else. 

"Let's go, Mulder," she said as they stepped into the elevator. 

Inside the elevator, he continued staring at her until she 
started to feel uncomfortable. Had she gone too far? Had she 
totally unfairly bitched out a roomful of FBI agents with non-
basement offices? 

She felt his arms wrap themselves around her and started to 
back away from his embrace. Was he just pitying her lack of 
control? Did he think she was too vulnerable and needed his 
strength?

But all it took was a look into his eyes to stop her backward 
movement. His hazel gaze shone with absolute pride and envy. 
His embrace was selfish - he wanted to hold her, to know that 
this woman, the kindest and strongest and smarted person he had 
ever met was his partner, was his to work with, was his to 
love. So she gave in and let his arms take her in. She could 
still feel his grin as he held her close. 

"God, Scully. That was unbelievable."

He pulled away just far enough to look into her shining blue 
eyes. "The look on their faces...."

She finally allowed herself a self-satisfied grin. "I'm glad it 
was good for you too, Mulder," she said coyly. 

That got her another huge grin and a squeeze that would have 
hurt in any other situation. 

			******

Two weeks later

FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
9:26 pm

They had been futilely trying to track down the mysterious 
United Americans as Scully's various injuries slowly healed but 
two weeks later they knew nothing more except that even Dr. 
Jonathan Kalis had disappeared along with any hard evidence 
other than the tapes themselves. And even the tapes only 
contained evidence of Scully's kidnapping - there was nothing 
on them that explained the group's project or their motive. All 
in all it had been a difficult two weeks, though at least 
Scully was feeling infinitely better - the last of the fingers 
and ribs were healing nicely - and she no longer looked quite 
so frail. 

As Mulder watched his partner work through more information 
gleaned from the bureau's vast databases, he smiled in 
satisfaction. No matter how frustrating it was being unable to 
track down Scully's torturers, it felt so good just to watch 
her work, to hold her without being afraid of hurting her. For 
the millionth time, he wondered why fate had decided to bless 
him with her. 

"Mulder? Earth to Mulder?"

"Huh?" Damn! Caught staring yet again. He smiled sheepishly. 
"Yeah? What's up?"

She frowned and sighed. "Nothing. That's the problem. How did 
they manage to disappear so completely? What kind of random 
paramilitary group has the time and the money to equip bases 
for long enough to have all their members completely drop out 
of society? I mean we have their names but it's like these 
people don't really exist - no property, no credit, no life, no 
relatives. Who the hell are they and what were they doing?"

Mulder shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know, Scully - 
it's getting weirder and weirder."

"Yeah, well, I've had enough. It's past nine, Mulder. Let's go 
home."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Agent Scully?" Mulder said 
with his best leer. 

She sighed tiredly, unable to even think up a comeback. 
"Nothing, Mulder - except that I need some sleep and you could 
probably do with some too. I'm going home - see you tomorrow."

He sighed and gave her a pouty look until it was clear that she 
wasn't going to invite him over. The last two weeks had left 
him spoiled - he had spent most of the nights at Scully's 
though after the first night he slept on the couch. Not that he 
minded really - at least he had his foot in the door and she 
seemed content with his presence. But she must've been looking 
forward to some time alone that night and he tried his best not 
to really pout as she collected her things and got ready to 
leave. 

"See you tomorrow, Mulder - don't stay all night," she said as 
she stepped out the door. 

"Goodnight, Scully," he said too-brightly, still trying to 
conceal his real disappointment. 

He obviously had done a poor job of it because a minute later 
he was started by a "Hey, Mulder" that came from the doorway. 

"Yeah?" he asked, surprised at her return. 

"Love you," she said - thereby surprising him even further - 
before quickly turning and heading out again. It took him a 
second to respond - she had never done anything like that 
before - but after a momentary glitch, he was up and calling 
her name out the doorway. But she was already out of sight and 
he was left standing there wearing a stupid grin. 

			******

He was still wearing the grin thirty minutes later when a large 
manila envelope was slid under the door and in his hyper-aware 
state, he was out of his chair in a flash - just in time to 
catch the mysterious envelope's deliverer running down the 
hall. 

"Turn around slowly with your hands in the air or I will shoot 
you, Krycek."

The young, darkly-clad assassin and all-around double-crosser 
stopped and slowly did as instructed. 

Mulder's face showed the multitude of emotions that Krycek 
always brought out in him. He had killed his father, Scully's 
sister, and who knew who else but he had also, inexplicably, 
been an ally too in various situations.

"Relax, Mulder, I'm just trying to help you," Krycek scowled. 

Mulder sneered. "Yeah, like you've 'helped' me in the past? 
With friends like you, Krycek..."

"Well, obviously I'm not here to kill you or else you'd be 
dead. You'd think the security here would be a little tighter..." 
Krycek replied, still all innocence. "Seriously, Mulder, just 
open the envelope and you'll see."

Cautiously, Mulder reached down and grabbed the envelope and 
opened it. It was stuffed full of black and white surveillance 
photos of a military-style barracks building and troops with 
various computer printouts of information that ostensible 
pertained to the mysterious troops. 

"What is this?" he snarled. 

"I think you know exactly what this is. These are the guys you 
want to kill, Mulder. I'm just being helpful," Krycek said 
amicably. 

"Why?"

Krycek sighed. His was an odd position and he had a front to 
put up but sometimes it was lonely being the only one in the 
know. 

"Because they have to be stopped. And because I like you, 
Mulder - you may be a pawn but at least you're trying to fuck 
things up. And I like Scully too. I know what happened and I 
would kill them too if I had the chance..." 

Mulder's grip on his gun wavered a bit. "Isn't that sweet of 
you, Krycek. Why should I believe you?"

"Do what you want, Mulder - I'm just trying to help. See you 
later." And with that he turned around and left with no 
consideration of the gun trained at his head. There wasn't a 
whole lot he could trust being in his line of work but Mulder 
was an open book - too honourable to shoot him in the back 
whether or not he was a wanted criminal that had just breached 
bureau security. 

			******

Mulder sat down and exhaled loudly. Encounters with his 
longtime enemy always left him slightly agitated and his hands 
shook with nervous excitement as he looked through the evidence 
in the envelope. It was all there and if it wasn't a set up 
then he was home free - he would surprise them and kill the 
bastard that....
He fought a flashback of a screaming and hurt Scully, of her 
torturer's snide voice. 

If they were in Nevada then he would kill them all and expose 
their experiments and he would do it alone. She would be uber-
pissed when she found out but he couldn't bring her out there. 
The flashback came back and his decision was easily made. 

			******
Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, Washington DC
4:01 am

She awoke with a start, another nightmare shocking her from a 
fitful sleep. This time, however, the nightmare didn't involve 
being tied down and tortured. Instead, she seemed to have 
slipped back into another familiar nightmare - one where she 
wanders the desert hopelessly calling Mulder's name. 

Still breathing rapidly, Scully resisted the strong temptation 
to call her partner just to check if he was okay. 'You're being 
irrational,' she chided herself - but try as she might, she 
couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and she 
wished that Mulder was out there on the couch - or better yet, 
in bed with her, to talk to, to argue with, to prove her wrong. 
But he wasn't and it was her fault so she did her best to 
ignore the uneasiness that she felt. It was a long, sleepless 
wait until it was late enough to get up and go to work. 

			******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
6:21 am

The uneasy feeling had not abated any as Scully approached the 
dark basement office - in fact, the close she got, the more 
wary she became. When she opened the door to find everything as 
it had been the previous evening - minus Mulder - she breathed 
a sigh of relief and finally smiled at her own paranoia. Maybe 
she was just imagining things and everything was fine - it even 
appeared as if Mulder had gone home and gotten some sleep. 
Still feeling slightly off, she headed for the coffee machine 
just as her adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off. 

Three hours later she knew something was up. He was never late 
and he usually answered at least on of his phones. Except when 
he ditched her....

She picked up the phone and dialled Skinner's extension. 

"Assistant Director Skinner's office," Kimberly answered. 

"Yes, this is Agent Scully. I have an emergency situation. I 
need to speak with the Assistant Director immediately."

"Just a minute, Agent Scully."

Scully waited for the call to transfer, chewing her lip 
impatiently. 

"You have and emergency, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked sounding 
more tired than usual. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Sorry sir but..."

"But you were wondering if Agent Mulder had informed me as to 
where he went," Skinner finished for her. 

"Where did he go?" Scully's voice was coldly determined. 

Skinner sighed. "I don't know, Agent Scully. All I got was a 
voicemail this morning saying that he needed to take some time 
off."

"That's all he said?"

"That's all."

"When was the voicemail sent?"

"Just a minute and I'll check..."

Again Scully waited impatiently. 

"4:20am. It sounds like he's somewhere busy."

"Like an airport."

"Possibly like an airport....but Scully...."

"Yes sir?"

"Be careful."

"Yes sir."

Her next call was to requisition passenger lists for all 
flights from Dulles between 9pm and 6am. Then as she waited for 
the lists to come through, she sat down tiredly and rubbed her 
temples. 10am and she was exhausted already.

			******
Rock Quarry
Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
11:06 am

It was way too hot a day in Nevada to be dressed in black 
cotton clothing, hiding in a rock quarry, trying to stay 
conscious. 

'If Scully were here I would have brought more than 500mL of 
water,' Mulder thought to himself as he surveilled the military 
building below. 

And if Scully were there he would have someone to share the 
monotony with. 

And if Scully were there she'd complain bitterly about the heat 
and the riskiness of the operation and would save his life. Not 
that his life needed saving. Not yet at least....

Damn he wished  she were there. 

'Stop it Mulder,' he chastised himself. 'Focus.'

With the noonday sun pounding on him, he spurred to attention 
when four figures - also dressed in black - marched out of the 
building and pointed right. at. him. shit. 

			******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
12:02 pm

There it was. Clyde Bruckman. 5:00am flight to Las Vegas, 
Nevada. 

Shit. It was hot and dry and dusty in Nevada. 

Shit. She had dreamt of losing Mulder in the desert. 

She got a ticket on a 1:00 flight to Vegas. 'Only Mulder would 
go to Vegas to gamble with his life,' she thought anxiously. 
She frowned at the thought but quickly went back to work - only 
forty minutes to figure out where he went after he landed. She 
had a hunch it wasn't to the Sigfried and Roy show. 

			******
Rock Quarry
Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
11:32 am

Running down a treacherous rock quarry was difficult even when 
the sand wasn't whipping up and settling in your eyes. Blindly, 
Mulder kept up his quick pace, hoping that he was still headed 
towards his vehicle until he heard pounding army boots close 
behind him and realized it wouldn't matter anyway. That was an 
instant before he was grabbed roughly by the shoulders and 
smashed in the head with the butt of a gun. Another kick to the 
head and he was drifting into the familiar world of 
unconsciousness. 

			******
FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
12:22 pm

It wasn't everyday the Las Vegas Field Office got called up and 
harassed endlessly by a determined DC agent with a steely cold 
attitude. Sure there had been a few mysterious disappearances 
lately and even a few strange deaths but it was Las Vegas - 
party town extraordinaire - it was to be expected. 

"What about any paramilitary activity in the area?" Scully 
questioned  unrelentlessly . 

"Well, there have been a couple reports of something going on 
in the desert between here and Arizona - some tourists got 
chased by a bunch of guys in black when they got lost and 
approached an army-style building for directions. But they 
weren't even sure where they were when it happened and there 
are a lot of military bases around here so it could have very 
well been an actual US military operation." 

"Whereabouts did they have this encounter?"

"Let me grab the report - this might take a few minutes."

"Okay, thanks. Oh, actually - I'm getting on a plane right now. 
Can you have the report ready for me when I arrive? I should be 
there in about five hours, at around two or three Nevada time."

"Sure. See you then."

"Thanks again, Agent Chalmers - you've been a huge help."

Scully boarded the plane with an anxiety-meter rating that went 
off the scale. 

			******

Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
1:02 pm

The feeling of waking up on a cold concrete floor was 
disturbingly familiar and he knew enough not to move suddenly - 
an unexpected jolt of pain might send him back into 
unconsciousness and he needed to stay awake and make a plan. A 
plan that didn't involved being rescued by Scully because that 
was highly unlikely. Even if she did catch the Clyde Bruckman 
clue, it was improbable, maybe even impossible, that she'd find 
the base without the information Krycek had given him. That 
left him with few options and fewer hopes but there had to be 
something he could do - he was not going to die alone in the 
desert, he was not going to be found cold and stiff or 
decomposing months or years later with Scully forever wondering 
what happened to him. 

But as he looked around the bare concrete room, no ideas came 
to him and his head began to ache. The pounding concussion 
induced nausea and there was nothing he could do but close his 
eyes and try to ignore it. Instead, he drifted off into a semi-
conscious, semi-asleep state. 

			******
Las Vegas, Nevada
3:14 pm

It was the first time she had gone a whole flight without 
thinking about crashing, her thoughts so trained on her 
partner's disappearance. It made no difference to her that it 
was a planned disappearance. She knew exactly what kind of 
trouble he got into when he was on his own. 

Arriving at the field office, she stormed through until she 
found the agent that she had spoken to on the phone. 

"Agent Chalmers? Hi, I'm Agent Dana Scully - we just spoke on 
the phone?" she greeted with a minimum of cordiality - the 
ability to be pleasant had vanished with her partner. 

Agent Chalmers seemed to know exactly who he was dealing with - 
FBI rumours had spread to the desert and it was well-known 
across the country that Agent Scully was the Ice Queen. He 
certainly didn't think he wanted to challenge the fierce 
redhead standing before him. 

"Hi, Agent Scully - I have just what you're looking for," the 
young, timid agent said as he handed her the file. 

"Thank you," she replied, already opening the file which 
described an encounter between lost tourists and heavily armed 
men. 

"Can you show me how to get there?" she demanded. 

"Sure thing - you just follow the interstate for about 60 miles 
and then hang a right on this dirt road for another 30 miles or 
so. Do that and you can't miss it - it's the only thing out 
there - looked pretty deserted when we went out to check up on 
this case. We just figured it was a stray military base - lots 
of those around here..." the young agent nervously explained. 

"Sure. Thanks again." Scully was already taking off with map in 
hand, leaving Agent Chalmers standing there, slightly dazed. 

'shit she's hot' he thought to himself as he watched her storm 
out of the field office. 

			******
Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
4:01 pm

It was never a good sign when you woke up to being roughly 
handled and dragged across cold concrete and Mulder groaned in 
discomfort as he instinctively pulled away from the hands 
pulling him along. He was rewarded with a sharp kick to the 
ribs and another to the stomach and decided to play it safe 
until he figured out what he was up against. 

His final destination was a non-descript concrete room where he 
was handcuffed with his arms suspended high above his head - 
too high for him to even slouch comfortably. 

That's when he heard the voice. It sent violent shivers through 
his body even as he recoiled physically. 

"Well, well, well. Agent Mulder. What a pleasant surprise. It 
is awfully nice of you to drop in - we all wanted so much to 
meet you after getting to know your partner so well during her 
visit." The man looked exactly as Mulder remembered from the 
tape - dressed head to toe in black. And the voice - a voice 
Mulder would never forget and one he wished to silence forever. 

"But back to you, Agent Mulder - are you ready to have some 
fun?"

"Fuck you," Mulder replied. 

"No, fuck you, Agent Mulder," was the reply that Mulder missed 
as a fist came slamming into his torso, aggravating already 
sore ribs. All the breath shot out of his lungs and he hung 
winded even as another fist struck his jaw, propelling his head 
back against the concrete wall.

Again, barely conscious and seriously considering throwing up 
all the coffee he had ingested earlier, Mulder tried to stay on 
his feet but was only rewarded with a slew of strong punches to 
his sore body. 

"What was that, Agent Mulder? Does it hurt? I'm disappointed in 
you - Agent Scully withstood so much more. But then again, she 
had something to live for - you on the other hand... what have 
you got? a pathetic career? a non-existent social life? yeah - 
I know all about you, Agent Mulder... It's too bad I don't have 
the time to stay and 'question' you as I did Agent Scully but 
we really must get going if our location is compromised."

And that was when the gun came out. Mulder looked at it 
anxiously. Somehow he couldn't believe that he would die there, 
alone, after all they had been through together. That he would 
never see her again, make her smile, hold her close. He visible 
flinched as his torturer cocked the gun but then managed to 
look up defiantly. 

The balaclava-clad man aimed carefully and, with obvious glee, 
pulled the trigger. 

			******

Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
4:12 pm

He had been there recently - she could feel his presence in her 
bones - and there was a rental vehicle covered in sunflower 
seed casings abandoned nearby. She had parked her own rental 
next to his and pulled out her phone to call for backup and 
paramedics - if Mulder was involved, then paramedics would 
probably be needed.... hopefully only to transport a certain 
balaclava-clad man.... Then she was out of the car and had 
climbed up the rock quarry extraordinarily quickly considering 
her still-weak body. 

Spying on the building with binoculars from what she hoped was 
a safe distance, she tried to come up with a plan. An open 
window on one side of the building piqued her attention and a 
plan began to form in her mind. The desert heat might have 
saved her mission and her partner's life and she was self-
satisfied in having brought a large arsenal of supplies - no 
rushing unprepared into dangerous situations for her. 

Carefully, she slid down the rocks towards the building until 
the unmistakable sound of a gunshot came through the open 
window. It was as if she herself had been shot. Had her effort 
been in vain? Was this it? Everything they had done, been 
through together...

Even as she scrambled down the rocks at a blazing speed, 
carried by momentum, adrenaline, and fear, hot tears began 
streaming down her face. And it wasn't from dust getting into 
her eyes. 

Almost instantly she was close enough to the building to get 
her plan started - it was her show. Backup wouldn't be there 
for more than half and hour and at that moment she  realized 
that he wasn't dead - not from any physical evidence or 
scientific theory - but from an odd feeling that came from 
within her soul that told her that she would know if her were 
truly gone. Quickly and silently, she donned a gas mask and 
took two canisters out of her bag. Grasping the canisters 
firmly, she opened them and threw them in the open window with 
perfect aim. Then, just as quickly, she pulled her silencer-
equipped weapon out and headed for what appeared to be the main 
entrance. 

			******


The bullet ripped through his thigh with a piercing hot 
intensity and Mulder nearly passed out from the pain. Looking 
down at the gunshot wound made him particularly dizzy and he 
was pretty sure he didn't want to be losing quite that much 
blood. 

He was going to die. Either the maniac would blow his head off 
or he would bleed to death just hanging there....

Still losing blood fast as his torturer admired his own 
handiwork, Mulder tried to hold onto consciousness long enough 
to see Scully one more time in his head and just as he was 
mentally staring at her image, the room began to fill with 
toxic smoke. 

'Why would they teargas themselves?' Mulder wondered to himself 
absently even as he found himself struggling to breathe. Then 
consciousness lost out and his world went black.

			******

They quickly moved to assemble outsider the main entrance - 
their efficiency belying their paramilitary training. However, 
this time their strict training was their downfall as Scully 
had predicted their evacuation procedures and had lain in wait. 

As the first man came running from the building, Scully 
silently shot him in the shoulder and edged her way into the 
building. Once inside, she stopped just inside the entrance and 
easily picked off the tear-gas blinded men as they headed 
toward the door in a panic. 

It was the easiest shooting she had ever done - they had ran 
right at her - and she noticed that she had even managed non-
lethal shots as she quickly cuffed all of her fallen opponent. 
Then, with only the briefest of pauses as she cuffed the 
balaclava-clad man, she was running down the hall, frantically 
checking every room until she saw something, someone, hanging 
from the wall in one of the rooms. 

Even through the smoke she could see the blood and her heart 
had rarely beat faster or more loudly. He wasn't moving and 
didn't seem to be conscious. 

'Please god. Please god.' she breathed silently as she held her 
fingers up to check his pulse. She exhaled loudly as she felt a 
faint but relatively steady pulse. 

He was alive. 

He was alive. 

She allowed herself an instant to gather herself before 
unlocking the handcuffs and gently lowering Mulder's 
unconscious body onto the ground. Quickly she took off her t-
shirt and used it to apply pressure to Mulder's leg wound 
before awkwardly lifting him up onto her shoulder. He was a 
dead weight and she could barely move on her first attempt to 
carry him but her second try was a stronger effort and she 
began to half-carry, half-drag her much-larger partner out of 
the building. 

The physical strain was excruciatingly taxing on her sore body 
but the mental anguish of not even knowing if he was still 
breathing, if his heart was still beating, weighed even heavier 
on Scully as she slowly but surely pulled Mulder down the 
hallway and out the door into non-toxic air. 

Finally she had a chance to really look him over and what she 
saw made her normally iron-clad stomach extraordinarily queasy. 
Seeing Mulder's blood always made her slightly nauseous and 
seeing so much of it at once was not doing good things to her 
body but she quickly forced that all aside as she automatically 
checked for an open airway and any signs of breathing. 

He wasn't breathing. 

Shit. 

Instantly, her lips were on his, breathing for him, begging him 
to breath on his own. And then with the fourth breath in he 
violently coughed and startled himself into a semi-conscious 
state. 

Scully started into his glassy hazel eyes and smiled. "It's 
okay Mulder - you're going to be fine," she said reassuringly 
as she checked his pulse again and listened to his ragged 
breathing. 

She wasn't sure anything she said was registering but continued 
to speak soothingly as she used her clothing to apply pressure 
to the bullet wound in his leg. "It's okay, Mulder - I'm here 
and we're going to get you to a hospital really soon." Where 
the hell were the paramedics?! "It's okay, Mulder... Here, this 
will make you feel warmer." It was hot still but Mulder was 
shivering and covered in a cold sweat as a result of shock and 
gratefully accepted the jacket she covered him with. "The 
bleeding's under control. You're going to be okay." She 
wondered if she were just saying it to make herself feel 
better. But he was going to be fine. He had to be. 
				
			******

Things had gone from dark to bright very suddenly and Mulder 
was having difficulty figuring out what was going on. He could 
breathe again - that was good - and he though he could hear 
Scully - that was very good. Except that he was probably either 
dead or imagining things. But no matter what he did, the mirage 
Scully stayed and absently brushed the hair off his forehead 
just like the real Scully sometimes did. And she was whispering 
to him, telling him that he was okay. And, strangely, he felt 
okay - still pretty shocky but nothing he hadn't felt before.... 
His head sure did hurt though and he was starting to get dizzy... 
He couldn't figure out what had happened and how he had gotten 
outside... or maybe he wasn't even outside...

If only that were really Scully....

			******

It was possible that she had been more relieved to hear the 
sirens of emergency vehicles before but none of those 
situations came to mind as the backup team finally arrived on 
the chaotic scene. Scully flagged the paramedics over and 
started filling them in. 

"Thirty-seven year old male with a GSW to the left quadricep 
and a possible concussion or skill fracture. Oh and smoke and 
tear gas inhalation and probably some broken ribs. Let me fill 
the agents in on what's going on and then I'm riding with you. 

The paramedics weren't about to argue with her and would have 
had to chase her down to do so as she marched off, yelling out 
instructions and explanations to the team of men milling about 
in confusion. 

"There are six injured and restrained paramilitary soldiers by 
the main entrance - we might need a few more ambulances or they 
might be fine to be transported by car to a hospital. Your 
decision - then search the building and tag every thing that 
you find as evidence. You'll find the case file in my rental 
vehicle over there and possibly other files in Agent Mulder's 
vehicle. Call me when this is all sorted out - I'll be at the 
hospital." And with that she was in the back of the ambulance, 
holding Mulder's hand in hers, stroking it gently with nervous 
fingers. 

			******
Mountain View Hospital
Las Vegas, Nevada
5:44 pm


In the course of their partnership, she had filled out way too 
many of his hospital forms. There was nothing more frustrating 
than watching the doctors wheel Mulder away down the restricted 
access hallway and then waiting anxiously and glaring at all 
the hospital personnel that seemed to be involved in a 
conspiracy of silence. Of course, logically she knew it wasn't 
quite like that but logic had difficulty getting past her over 
paranoid impulses in regards to her partner's well being. 

Finally after what seemed like days of pacing and terrible 
coffee, she saw a doctor she definitely recognized as the one 
who had taken her partner through the doors. 

"Excuse me, doctor? How is he?" she asked in her fiercest 
voice. 

The doctor eyed her warily. "Agent Scully right? Well, your 
partner suffered some serious injuries, including a hairline 
fracture of the skull along with the gunshot wound to his left 
thigh and some less serious ones, including a couple of 
fractured ribs. We had to perform surgery to remove the bullet 
and to stop some internal bleeding but he seems to holding up 
well. He should be fine." 

Scully let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. 

"Can I see him?"

"Well, he's in recovery right now and won't be moved up to a 
room for a couple of hours at least. He won't wake up for a 
while yet so why don't you grab some coffee or a decent meal..."

The doctor's well-intentioned advice was cut short with the 
glare he received from her intense blue eyes. 

"...or, seeing as you're a medical doctor, I suppose it would be 
alright if you sat with him in recovery - it's down the hall, 
just ask one of the nurses for directions."

Quickly, Scully's glare changed to gratitude and the young 
doctor was rewarded with a tired but dazzling smile. He 
seriously wondered if there were any more regulations he could 
break to get another smile like that from the fierce female 
agent. 

			******

He never failed to look angelic as he rested. Or at least it 
seemed that way to her. 

She stood over his pale face and gently traced his face with 
her fingers, softly touching the bandage around his head. He 
looked ridiculous. The bandage looked like a headband and you 
could still see his hair, messy, trying to take over the 
bandage's space. God he was cute. She almost giggled at the 
thought and took his hand in hers as she sat down next to his 
bed. 

"Mulder, I knew you wouldn't ditch me like that..." she whispered 
in his ear conspiratorially. "I'm so glad you're going to be 
okay."

She stroked his hand soothingly and sat back to wait for him to 
wake up. 

			******

"Agent Scully?"

She awoke with a start, quickly looking around and grabbing for 
her weapon before realizing it was just the young doctor from 
before. 

She smiled tiredly. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"No problem - you look like you could use the rest. But we're 
moving Agent Mulder upstairs now."

She smiled again and the doctor flushed slightly. 

"Great." she said. "Let's go."

			******
Mountain View Hospital
Las Vegas, Nevada
1:21 am


She managed to convince the staff to give him a private 
room as much for her sake as for his - she needed to have some 
time alone with her partner. 

He was comfortably settled when she finished discussing his 
recovery with the doctor and she couldn't help but smile as she 
sat down gingerly and took his hand in her. How had she ended 
up in love with the most eccentric and irrational agent in the 
bureau? She had no idea when it had happened but there had been 
no denying it after the fact. Well, technically there had been 
a lot of denying it but through it all she knew that it was 
merely a facade, a mostly impenetrable facade but a facade 
nonetheless. 

God how she loved him. His quirky mind, his boyish good looks, 
his too-tender heart and his selfless soul. Someone had really 
read the two of them poorly when they had thought she would 
blindly follow orders and invalidate his work. Sometimes she 
wondered when they had realized the mistake they had made - she 
guessed that it had been around the time of her abduction. But 
she had survived that and he had too - and they had gone on to 
survive so much more. She was so wrapped up in reminiscing that 
she didn't notice the slight fluttering of his eyelids and only 
turned to see his eyes opening when his hand moved in hers. 

"Hey G-man," she said with a huge smile on her face, releasing 
her grip on his hand to touch his hair, his face. He looked 
right at her and blinked a few times without saying anything. 
Then, still silent, he slowly reached out with his hand to 
touch her face as she held a cup of water to his dry lips. 
Finally, he registered something and smiled contently. 

"This is real," he whispered through cracked lips. 

That made her smile even more broadly as she stroked his hair 
soothingly.

"Yeah Mulder - this is very real," she said softly.

"I thought I was going to die," he said seriously and sounded 
so vulnerable that she had to bite her lip hard to keep the 
tears at bay. Silently shaking her head, not trusting her 
voice, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. 

"I'm sorry," he said as she tried to blink her tears away. 

Finally she found her voice - a little shaky but soothing to 
his ears. "Don't be, Mulder - everything is fine. You're going 
to be okay and that's all that matters. 

He shook his head even as waves of tiredness advanced on him. 
"No, Scully - I'm sorry - it wasn't supposed to end up like 
this." 

"It's okay, Mulder, really." She felt his exhaustion and rubbed 
his hand gently. "Get some rest and we'll talk about it later."

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of 
her small hand grasping his. Then he felt another light kiss 
grace his forehead just as he fell asleep. 

			******

When he awoke again, Scully was dozing with her head by his 
shoulder and he couldn't resist the urge to touch her gently. 

She awoke, startled at his touch and saw his concerned eyes 
trained on her. She grinned sheepishly and forced herself to 
take a calming breath as she looked Mulder over. 

"Scully, are you okay?" he asked as he took the opportunity to 
look her over too. 

She frowned slightly. "I think that's my line, Mulder," she 
said, trying to deflect his comment. 

"Bullshit, Scully. You look tired." he replied. " You should go 
get some real sleep."

She shook her head. "Go where?" she asked wearily. 

He smiled a bit at that - of course she had come straight to 
the hospital after hearing that he was there. But how had he 
gotten there in the first place? He hadn't even thought to ask 
when he had awoken before. 

"How did I get here?" he asked. 

She shook her head again. "Later, Mulder," she said. 

This time he was the one shaking his head, a movement that made 
him wince in pain but it didn't change the determined look on 
his face. 

Scully sighed. " I found your name on that flight to Las Vegas 
and I got the Las Vegas field office to pull up any recent 
suspicious activity nearby." 

"And?" That didn't answer his question completely. How had he 
gotten out of the building before being shot and before 
bleeding to death? The last thing he remembered was some sort 
of gas making it difficult to breathe. "And Scully? No way you 
convinced a team of Las Vegas agents to check out an abandoned 
base on a hunch."

She sighed again - there would be no hiding the truth from his 
inquisitive mind. 

"I flushed them out with tear gas and shot them at the door. 
Then I went in and pulled you out," she explained. 

He looked at her with questioning, wide, eyes. "You pulled me 
out alone?" he whispered, already knowing the answer but 
determined to get it out of her.

She nodded. 

"Scully..." He didn't quite know what to say. She was so tiny - 
not that he doubted her strength but there were the laws of 
physics to be considered. She shook her head again, trying to 
alleviate his concern - he was the one who had been injured, 
she was fine. 

"I'm fine, Mulder."

He didn't think he hated any statement more than that one. It 
always brought back terrifying memories of Scully being sick, 
of his fear of losing her. He shook his head. 

"Stand up" he demanded. 

She looked at him confusion. "What?" she asked. 

"Stand up." he repeated. 

She stood up cautiously, trying not to betray sore bones and 
muscles with any sudden moves. And obviously he didn't buy it 
one bit. 

Just then the young doctor from the previous night walked into 
the room. 

"Good morning, Agent Mulder. I'm Doctor Brewer. How are you 
feeling today?"

Scully grinned to herself - saved by the doctor - but felt 
relieved only until she heard her partner's response. 

"I feel alright, all things considers. But if you have the time 
maybe you could take a look at Agent Scully's injuries..." Mulder 
said innocently, pretending not to notice that Dr. Brewer would 
probably pay him for the chance to check Scully out. 

For that he received a death glare from Scully. 

"What injuries, Agent Scully? You didn't mention any injuries 
last night," Dr. Brewer asked in concern. 

Scully shook her head in exasperation. "I didn't injure myself 
last night, Doctor. I'm fine."

"Then you won't mind if he checks out your ribs or your hand," 
Mulder said loudly. 

She scowled yet again. "I'm fine." 

"Well, just to make sure - I'll just check you out quickly 
okay?" Dr. Brewer said eagerly and Scully knew she was trapped. 
She sighed and relented. 

Brewer poked and prodded her for a few minutes with her trying 
desperately not to wince in pain the whole time and especially 
when he grasped her overused, barely-healed hand. 

"Agent Scully, apparently we have different opinions on a what 
it means to be fine. I wouldn't call extreme tenderness, broken 
ribs, and a damaged hand being fine. I would like to put you 
under observation for the night," Brewer suggested. 

Scully glared at him. "I'm fine, Dr. Brewer. There is no need 
for concern - my ribs and my hand were broken before yesterday 
and are healing nicely. I do not need to be observed overnight." 

There was to be no arguing with the look that both Brewer and 
Mulder were subjected to. 

"Okay, Scully - then just a bed where you can lie down and get 
some sleep. Please?" Mulder said with sad eyes. 

She considered the idea and realized that she hadn't really 
slept in over twenty-four hours and that napping in a chair was 
never a good idea. 

"Okay - you win, Mulder. If they can get another bed in here I 
will lie down and try to sleep," Scully said, a little dismayed 
at having given in though his smile at her words made up for 
any misgivings she had.

She came up close to him as the doctor went off to request a 
cot be brought in and he lost the goofy smile, not knowing what 
type of reaction he was going to get from her. He was very 
surprised to feel her gently wrap her arms around his own 
broken ribs to pull him closer. It felt so good that he forgot 
about all the aches and pains. 

"Thanks, Mulder," she whispered lightly into his ear. 

			******

He was still sleeping when she awoke and she took the 
opportunity to look him over carefully with a slight smile on 
her face. She couldn't help but reach over and brush a stray 
lock of hair off his forehead as she watched him sleep. She 
lingered there for another minute before getting ready to 
leave. 

She was putting her wrinkled and smelly suit jacket back on 
when she felt him wake up. Pretending not to have noticed, she 
kept her eyes off of him and stepped towards the door. 

"Hey Scully," he said quietly, making her turn and look at him 
with an expression that implied both sadness and rage, both 
hidden carefully under a look of concern. 

"Hey yourself," she said with a smile as she stepped back 
towards his bed. 

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Field Office to grab some paperwork and see what kind of 
evidence they found in the building. I'll be back soon - want 
me to bring you anything?" she said, trying to sound natural. 

He shook his head and she took that as her opportunity to turn 
and head out but just as she was a step away from the door, he 
had to say something. 

"Hey Scully...."

She turned and looked at him nervously. 

"You're a terrible liar."

She sighed and looked at him forlornly, ready for him to berate 
her for lying to him but all he did was grin at her and that 
was enough to get her to grin back.

"Bacon cheeseburger, Mulder?" she asked. 

He nodded goofily. "Give 'em shit, Scully," he replied. 

Her heart a lot lighter, she was still smiling when she left 
the hospital. 

			******

Prison Interrogation Room
Las Vegas, Nevada
11:20 am


The interrogation room was physically no different from the 
hundreds of others she had visited in her lifetime but panic 
was surreptitiously sneaking up on her as she sat and waited 
for him to be brought to the room. 

A sharp click and the door was opened to reveal a prison guard 
leading a still0fierce presence into the chair opposite her. 

"The remarkable Agent Scully - how do you do it?" he said 
nastily, a slimy leer itching at his lips. 

"Fuck off," she said with an icy cold glare that bore into the 
prisoner's eyes. "I'm here to tell you that you will never win. 
You can hide the evidence, you can hurt us both, but we will 
always be stronger than vermin like you that trade in dark 
secrets and human lives. I hope that they lock you up forever 
but, regardless, if you ever, ever, hurt Mulder again I will 
hunt you down and kill you gladly."

Without another word and without looking back, she turned and 
left the room. 

			******

En Route to Georgetown
Washington DC
4:46 pm


"No way, Scully - I'll be fine!" Mulder argued vehemently as 
she zipped by the exit for his apartment. 

"Mulder," she said reproachfully. "You're still in pain, you 
can't cook, you can't even really walk. You're coming to my 
place where I will make you coffee and rent you movies and 
maybe, maybe, make you grilled cheese sandwiches and where I 
can make sure you can't go to work."

He wasn't sure whether to pout or to succumb easily - it really 
didn't sound to bad....

"Oh, just give in Mulder - you could use a week or two off - I 
know I could," Scully glanced over at a remarkable complacent 
Mulder. 

"Then take a week or two off," he said. 

She smiled and shook her head. "And do what?" she asked. 

"Stay with me," he said - a little more seriously than he meant 
to. 

That startled her a bit but she was as composed as ever when 
she replied. "Okay, why not - we both deserve a break."

It was his turn to be startled then and he remained speechless 
until they arrived at her apartment, thinking that if he didn't 
break the almost-reverent silence then she would remain in 
whatever other reality she would have had to have been in to agree to stay home with him. 

			******

Scully's Apartment
Georgetown, Washington DC
8:41 pm


He was comfortably sprawled on the sofa, flipping channels 
aimlessly when she came in with two steaming mugs of coffee. 

"That smells sooooooooo good, Scully - I haven't had a decent 
cup of coffee since..."

She winced a bit at the thought - since before Nevada, before 
she found him unconscious and bleeding. 

"Sorry," he said, watching her closely. 

"Don't be Mulder - it turned out fine," she said as she sat 
down and gently leaned up against her partner. 

"Yeah, if you call this fine," he said, looking pointedly at 
his injuries. "And considering there wasn't even enough 
evidence to charge them for the original Seattle murders.... I 
can't believe we can't break the encryption on their computers! 
This is ridiculous - we know they did it but we can't get them 
for anything except... except for what he did to you..."

"And that's enough for now, Mulder. We can't win them all and I 
think we did better than a tie on this one. At least the leader 
is behind bars and will be for a long time. And we're both 
okay - I learned long ago to settle for making it through a 
case alive, Mulder," Scully replied with a touch of sarcasm. 

"Alive thanks to you - I still can't believe it, Scully..."

She shook her head in resignation and looked up at his 
childlike amazement with a soft smile on her face. Slowly she 
pulled him closer to her until their faces were almost touching 
and slipped a quick kiss onto his lips. Then she let go enough 
to give him some breathing room but still close enough to run 
her fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. 

"How did this happen, Mulder?" she asked in a whisper. 

He looked at her in confusion, still dazed from the touch of 
her lips on his and not understanding her question. 

"How did I fall for a rebellious basement-dwelling, UFO-
believing, federal agent?"

His smile was priceless as he looked into her twinkling eyes. 

"Just lucky I guess," he replied as seriously as he could. 

And as he held her in his arms, tightly wedged together on her 
sofa, he couldn't remember ever feeling quite so content.