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TO: Kate MouseSkinatq945popmail.com
FROM: Walter WSSkinneratwdcpotmail.com
SUBJECT: Hey

Dear Kate:

Sorry it's taken me so long to e-mail you but RL has been a real bitch since we got back from WV. I know when I phoned I promised to write and give you all the details about when Dana would be getting married, but there has been a lot of confusion here at work.

Boy, is that an understatement, thought Walter Skinner as he sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his head. He had gotten home from work later than usual and, after eating a turkey and provolone sandwich from the deli across the street, decided to finally e-mail his sister. He and Scully had been back for a month, and things had gone from heaven to hell in that time.

He fixed himself a neat scotch and sat back down to try and explain to Kate what had happened, and why the wedding had been put on hold for a little while. It couldn't wait too long, however. There was no way any child of his was going to born out of wedlock.

>>As I told you on the phone, Dana and I had discussed it on the plane home that we would get married around Christmas. She wanted to transfer to Quantico, because she knew the Bureau would never let me continue to supervise her once we were married. Plus, forensic pathology is something she loves, AND it's basically an 8-to-5 position, so she could be assured of being in town with me instead of out in the field. I don't relish the thought of her being out of town if something happens during the pregnancy.<<

He took a sip of his drink and remembered the flight home after visiting his family. They had sat at the back of the plane, holding hands, sneaking kisses when the hostesses were busy with the other passengers, discussing their future together. They were both still in shock at the possibility of her being pregnant, but were cautiously making plans if a doctor's visit showed that she was, indeed, pregnant. He sent his Aunt Suddy a dozen red roses when her uncanny prediction was verified.

Scully had proved remarkably stubborn concerning continuing to work. He had wanted her to quit as soon as they were married so she could take care of herself during the pregnancy. She had said she would die of boredom and would continue to work as long as she was able and there were no problems. He had argued with her about transferring to Quantico. He wanted her to transfer to another department within the JEH Building so he could be near her if she needed anything. She had scoffed at that idea, saying that he would be of no use to her if something did happen, and at Quantico she would have access to immediate medical care if she needed it.

She had sat there in that narrow seat, arms crossed, blue eyes flashing with determination and maybe just a hint of stubbornness. Her logic was impeccable as usual, but he didn't want to cave in to her wishes too soon. Might set a precedent he might not want to follow forever. He had opened his mouth to argue when she leaned over the armrest and kissed him, stroking the back of his neck.

"You understand, don't you Walter?", she had asked softly.

How could he refuse her after that? He had muttered something along the lines of "Of course, my love, whatever you want" and drew her closer to him. She had laid her head on his shoulder and put her arm around his waist. He put his chin on top of her head, unaware of the small look of triumph on her face. Not that it mattered; he was going to agree with her anyway.

>>When we got to D.C., Kate, we immediately drove to her mother's house. We wanted to tell her about us getting married and the pregnancy as soon as possible, considering all of my family already knew. She was thrilled, as you can imagine. She cried and hugged Dana, cried some more, then hugged me. I think she was shocked when I actually asked her for Dana's hand. Dana stood there and laughed through the whole process. Her mother kept shushing her, but that just made her laugh harder. She said she was 37 years old, most likely pregnant, and it was a little late to be asking permission from her mother for me to do what we'd already done. Needless to say, Margaret (Dana's mother) gave her permission and her blessing.<<

Well, thought Skinner, that was the way it happened, up to a point. Kate just didn't need to know about what transpired when Dana told her mother they would not be getting married in a church. There was a perceptible cooling in Margaret Scully's attitude after that.

Skinner got up and fixed himself another small scotch. No use in sitting here and getting plastered. He'd just feel terrible tomorrow. He went over again in his head the conversation between Scully and her mother.

"Dana, two months is not a very long time to plan a wedding. I'm not sure Father Hugh will be available. Christmas is such a busy time for him."

"Mom, we're not getting married in Washington. I want to get married in Alonzo. Walter's family is large and I want them present. It'll be easier if we go there. It's just going to be his parents and his brothers and sisters, you, Bill and his family, and Charles, if we can find him, at the ceremony. Then, a reception with all the nieces and nephews. It should be about what, Walter? A hundred to a hundred twenty-five people? That's just family. Nobody else."

"Well, fine," said Margaret Scully, trying to think where Dana had told her Alonzo was located. "But you'll still need to contact the local priest so he can......."

"Uh, Mom, we're not getting married in a church. I'm pregnant, at least I hope I am. I don't think I should go through the charade of a white wedding. We'll be married in Walter's father's house. It's got a large front room, and I think it would be a perfect setting."

"Well, who...who's going to do the ceremony? Surely you're going to have a priest...", Margaret Scully trailed off as she saw her daughter lift her chin.

"No, Mom. It's going to be a justice of the peace. One of Walter's nephews is a JP and he said he would be thrilled to do it."

"But, Dana. Marriage is a sacrament. It needs the blessing of a priest, or at least a minister. I can't believe you're not going to at least have the marriage blessed. Okay, maybe a church wedding is a little much, especially if you're pregnant. But, you could come back to Washington and let Father Hugh bless the union. Please consider it? For me?"

"Mom, I know. But I'm not going to make Walter do something that he may not want to do, just to please you."

"Walter?", Margaret Scully turned towards Skinner and placed her hand on his arm. "Would you object to having the marriage blessed by a priest? Otherwise, Dana will not be able to take Communion."

"Oh, please, Mother. I'm pregnant, which means I've had sex before marriage. I shouldn't be taking Communion now, but I do."

"Margaret," he said, "if Dana wants it, it's fine by me. I'm willing to do whatever she wants. As far as I'm concerned, we'll be married in the sight of God, no matter who does it."

"See, Dana? He said he would," smiled Mrs. Scully. "Now, all we have to do....."

"Mom, I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, okay? I'll let you know." Scully stood with her arms crossed, gazing steadily at her mother.

Skinner had suspected that she was just trying to show him that he didn't have to do anything he didn't feel comfortable doing. But what she didn't realize was that she was upsetting her mother.

They had talked a while longer, but Margaret Scully's enthusiasm had waned after her daughter's pronouncement. Skinner and Scully got ready to leave soon after that. He leaned down and kissed Mrs Scully on the cheek.

"I promise I'll do all that I can to make your daughter happy, Margaret. I hope you believe me," he said softly.

"I know, Walter," she sighed. "And you do make her happy. I have seen such a change in her since you two got together. I..I just wish.....", she sighed again.

He kissed her cheek again, and watched as Scully and her mother embraced. The two women were alike in some ways, but he suspected she had her father's stubbornness. It was going to be challenge, living with her, loving her. But he had his own stubborn streak, one that could prove to be the match for hers.

It was going to be an interesting life.

That night, after leaving Margaret Scully's house, Skinner had tried to discuss with Scully why she was not wanting to comply with her mother's wish. He was driving Scully's car and she had sat in the passenger seat, turned slightly in her seat. He would take his eyes off the road occasionally to check her reaction to what he was saying.

"Dana," he asked cautiously, "why don't you want to do what you're mother wants? It seems such a simple request, and I don't mind. It would make her happy, and I think, eventually, you would be glad we did it, too." He took one hand off the steering wheel and reached for her hand, giving it a slight squeeze when she placed it in his.

She sighed loudly, "I'm sorry. I suddenly realized that you and I had not discussed even the possibility of a religious wedding. I guess she took me by surprise, and maybe I was feeling a little guilty. I also realized that she would not get to see me walk down the aisle in a fairy-tale dress surrounded by bridesmaids in hideous gowns." She shuddered slightly, "Not that I would do that anyway, at my age, but still, she'll never see either of her daughters have a big church wedding." She stared straight ahead at the on-coming traffic, eyes bright with unshed tears.

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "I'll do whatever you want, Dana. If you want a big church wedding with you waddling down the aisle in a specially-made maternity wedding gown, that's fine by me."

She chuckled at the image that suddenly popped in her head. "I'd look like was trying to hide a basketball." The smile faded from her face. "What if I'm not pregnant, Walter? This whole conversation will become moot."

"Why?", he asked. "We're still getting married, aren't we? I mean, I'm not marrying you just because you're pregnant. You proposed to me before we even knew that there was a possibility, remember? We'll just have longer to prepare, that's all."

She bit her lip, "I just don't want you to feel pressured. You did turn down my proposal, and you can do it again, if that's what you want."

Skinner pulled up in front of her apartment and parked. He got out, went around to her side of the car, and opened her door. As she stepped out he pulled her into his arms. She had to tilt her head back to look into his face.

"Dana Katherine Scully, I, Walter Sergei Skinner, do hearby accept your proposal of marriage without objection, fear of reprisal, or any sense of intimidation. I am doing this willingly, and will continue to do so with or without any potential issuance of progeny from your loins in the next 8 months." She laughed at the legalesque language of his acceptance. "Now, I have a counter-proposal for you. Will you, Dana Katherine Scully, marry me, in spite of my black moods, surly ways, and large, meddlesome family? Will you do me the honor of making you my wife? So, I can love, honor, cherish and obey your every wish?"

"It sounds like you've been through this before, A.D. Skinner," she said softly.

"Not like this I haven't. Never like this." He kissed her softly. "Well? Yes or no?"

"Oh, most definitely yes," she smiled and pulled his head down to hers. They shared a kiss so full of promise, hope, and love that it left them both breathless.

"Then, let's get upstairs and seal this with more than a kiss," he whispered against her lips. He pulled back slightly, "Unless we shouldn't because of......"

She laughed and started to leading him toward her apartment, tugging his hand impatiently. "Walter, the only time we have to stop making love is when I'm in labor. And the reason for that is because you'd get in the way of the doctor."

Skinner sat back in his chair, staring at the computer screen. They had sealed the promise with more than a kiss. In fact, more than once. Making love had always been wonderful with her, but that night it had been unbelievable. He could not recall ever having laughed so much while having sex. She had been fun, imaginative and yet sexy and sensual at the same time.

He had been with many women before. And sex had been, well, sex. While always pleasurable, though sometimes it was just for release, or because the woman expected it, or because *he* expected it, or as an apology, or as a substitute for conversation. But he had never known what joy and love it could bring until Scully had shown him.

They had fallen asleep in each others arms, but she woke him up in the middle of the night, kissing him passionately, stroking his body to arousal. They had made a different kind of love then, wilder, noisier. He had voiced his concern about what it might do to the pregnancy, but she had silenced him, telling him not to worry. They had reached climax together, and had collapsed into a tangled, sweaty heap. Once again they had fallen asleep.

Somewhere close to dawn, she again awakened him, stroking his face, calling his name softly. "Walter, make love to me," she whispered.

He laughed sleepily, "I thought that's what we had been doing. You, young woman, are insatiable. We're gonna look like hell in the morning...uh...in a couple of hours. Get some sleep, sweetheart. I promise, tonight is not the only night we'll have."

"Please, Walter. I love you so much and I'm so happy. Please, make love to me."

And they had, one more time. But this time, it was slower, more tender, sweeter. He had made sure she was satisfied first, watching her as she arched against him, clutching the sheet beneath her. When she lay panting, he kissed her tenderly. When she had started to reciprocate, he had held her to him and told her to rest.

She had tried to protest, but he told her, "Dana, please, making love to you, making you happy, holding you is enough." He kissed her again, "Besides, I won't be able to walk tomorrow it we keep this up. We'll have more nights like tonight. I promise."

And of course, they hadn't. That had been the last time they had made love since they got back. It had been a horrible month, and he suspected there were going to be more ahead of them.

And all because he had lost Mulder.


Skinner hitched his chair a little closer to the computer desk, took a deep breath, and continued with his e-mail.

<<Moose, you remember me telling you about Fox Mulder, Dana's partner on the X-Files. I think I may have even mentioned that at one time I thought they might get together in their personal lives, but it never happened. Lucky for me, I guess. Unfortunately, though, he did not take it well when Dana and I started our relationship. Bruised ego, hurt feelings; all of that I can understand. I just wish....

Anyway, he's always been a good friend to me and probably is one of Dana's best friends. They have gone through a lot, both professionally and personally, and they have a deep, abiding affection and respect for each other. Both Dana and I wanted to let Mulder know about our marriage and possible pregnancy before he heard it from anyone else. We felt we owed him that much.

She wanted to tell him on Tuesday, after we got back from West Virginia, so after she had called and scheduled a doctor's visit for the following week, she had gone to their office to talk to Mulder. While she was in there, but before she could tell him, he received a call from a young man they had met on their very first case together. Mulder, as usual, jumped at the chance to go out to Oregon to follow-up. Dana thought it would be a good ending to their partnership if they could go back to the place where they had first worked together. She promised me she would tell him while they were there.

As it turns out, she had a couple of fainting spells while there, and was unable to talk to him about us. He brought her back to DC, but wanted to return to continue his investigation. I told her I would go back with him, to make sure he was all right.

I failed her, Moose. I didn't keep him safe. I basically stood there and watched him get abducted. I was powerless to prevent it. I dreaded the trip back to Washington. I didn't want to have to face her and tell her that I let him put himself in harm's way.

When I got back, I found out she was in the hospital after suffering another black-out. I rushed over to see her, to make sure she was all right, and to tell her of my failure. She already knew about Mulder, and I promised her that I would, that WE would do all we could to find him again. Then she told me that the doctors had confirmed her pregnancy.

It was such a bittersweet moment. I was thrilled for her, because I knew how much she wanted a baby. I was happy for myself, more than I care to admit. I couldn't believe I was going to be a father at my age. And yet, hovering over what should have been a joyous time was the pall of Mulder's abduction.>>

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He and Scully had clung to each other, there in her hospital room, crying together. They seemed to be experiencing two extreme emotions at once; joy for the realization of the new life they had created, and sadness for the loss of their friend.
She had made him promise not to say anything to anyone, and not to transfer her from the X-Files, not yet, not till she could find Mulder. Then, she had asked him if they could wait on the wedding until there was some kind of news about Mulder.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I just...I just need to find him. He's always been there for me. When I was abducted, when I was sick, anytime I needed him, he was there. I can't abandon him. I..you understand, don't you?", she asked, her eyes pleading for understanding.

He had held her close, kissing her hair. "Of course, Dana. I can't forget all he's done for you, and me as well. We'll find him. But," he held her away from him, "I do want us to get married before this baby comes. I know it seems kind of old-fashioned, but I want my name on his birth certificate as your husband. Do *you* understand?"

She smiled through her tears, wiping his own with the corner of the bed sheet. "Yes. Yes, I do, and I want the same thing." She threw her arms around his neck, laughing and crying at once, "Oh, Walter, we're going to have a baby!!"

Skinner continued his letter.

<<It was just a couple of days later that Dana was called in and assigned a new partner. He's a former cop who joined the Bureau a few years ago. He's considered one of the best and brightest investigators, and he was assigned by D.D. Kersh to help in the search for Mulder. He and Dana did not hit it off at all. She thinks he's Kersh's errand boy, out to discredit her, Mulder and the X-Files.

The worst, though, Moose, was the day both of us were called down to give depositions concerning Mulder. They took us seperately, first Dana, then me. It was while they were interviewing me that a crate was delivered containing a headstone with Mulder's name on it. Turns out he had been diagnosed with a fatal brain disorder and she had not known about it. I had to stand there and watch her as she stared at that hunk of marble and read the report. I wanted to go over and hold her and try to console her, but I couldn't. It wouldn't have been proper as an assistant director. All I could do was stand there and clench my fists.

So, for the time being, that's where we stand. I don't see her too often, in order not to raise suspicions. She's afraid that if someone finds out about her pregnancy, or about us, that she'll be removed from the X-Files, and won't be able to search for Mulder. Tell the family there is still going to be a wedding, but we'll have to let them know when. It'll probably be a real spur of the moment thing, but I'm not worried. We seem to do those kinds of things real well.

Give my love to Daddy and Noretta, and all the other outlaws. BTW, congratulations, belatedly, on the birth of your new granddaughter. Dana said she'll be sending a baby gift from the both of us as soon as she can.

Love, Dub>>

Skinner clicked on "Send" and then checked his own e-mail.

Nothing much, a chain letter which went into Trash, ads that also went to Trash, and a short note with a commercial address that said, "Washington Slept Inn, Room 83." He sent this to Trash also, then got up, went to his room and took out a pair of black jeans, a black Henley shirt, a black windbreaker and his boots. He quickly showered, put on the clothes, and stuffed a toothbrush and a change of boxers into the pockets of the windbreaker. He put on a Washington Redskins cap, and went downstairs. He walked two blocks, then hailed a cab. He gave the driver an address in Georgetown and sat angled against the seat, occasionally glancing out the back window.

Once he arrived at the address, he strolled over to a bus stop and caught a bus headed back into DC. After getting off the bus in front of an all-night drug store, he hailed another cab and gave that driver the address to the Washington Slept Inn. He slouched down in the seat, and stared out the side window.

When they arrived at the modest-priced motel, Skinner had the driver drop him off out of sight of the brightly-lit office. He waited till the cab had pulled out of the drive before crossing the courtyard to where Room 83 was located.

He knew which room it was, for the light over the door was out. He tapped softly on the door and waited for the sound of the chain sliding carefully open. He counted to three, then slowly opened the door. All the lights were off.

"It's me," he said in a low voice. "I'm going to turn my back and close the door." He stepped into the small dark room, turned and closed the door, locking the deadbolt and setting the chain. "Are you all right?", he asked softly.

"Now that you're here I am," came the response. "Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"You're getting as paranoid as Mulder," he chuckled. "I'm positive. Now, if I can't see you can I at least hold you? Or do you want to frisk me first?"

"I'll frisk you if you'll frisk me," Scully said as she wrapped her arms around him. "God, you feel good. I never thought I could miss touching someone as much as I've missed you the last few weeks." She pulled his head down to hers and assaulted his lips, taking his breath away with her intensity.

"Dana! Slow down!", he laughed as he tried to hold her at arms length.

"Walter, pregnant women can be unbelievably horny, I haven't been with you in 4 weeks, and I'm not going to waste precious time. Now, don't tell me you came all the way to this crummy motel to talk FBI files. That'll come later. There are more important things to take care of first. Not the least of which is getting you out of those jeans. Get those buttons undone, mister, or I'll do it myself!"


She lay on her side, pulled against his chest, spooning contentedly. She missed him so much. Seeing him at the office, with him sitting behind his desk looking official, was just not the same thing. She had been longing for his arms around her, holding her, touching her. She sighed.

"Are you okay?", Skinner asked, kissing her shoulder. His beard was scratchy against her skin. He nuzzled her neck, "MMMMM, you smell good."

"I probably smell like sweat and sex," she laughed, turning on her back to look at him. "And it's all your fault."

He took a deep exaggerated sniff, "Eau de Screw, my favorite." They both chuckled. "I've missed you. How are you doing, Dana? Honestly."

"I'm fine, really. Some occasional morning sickness, but not enough to be noticed. I want to sleep alot, the breast tenderness isn't quite so bad, but the worst thing is the damn hormones. I cry at nothing, and I can get horny as hell watching something as innocent as Corona Beer commercials. I guess it's a good thing I don't see you much during the day, or we'd never be able to explain the noises in your office to Kimberly," she smiled at him. "Do I look like I've gained weight? I've really been careful about my diet. But, sometimes it's hard."

"No, you look fine," he said as he ran his hand down her side and up over her flat abdomen. "You don't seem to have gained any weight. Is that healthy? Shouldn't you put on a little? Although, wait, hmmmmm," he muttered as he brought his hand up to her breast. "These do seem bigger Or is that just my imagination?" He kissed the side of her face, moving his lips slowly to hers.

"No," she said between kisses, "you're right, they are bigger. What a nasty man you are to be playing with your child's food." His hand stopped its caressing. She laughed, "I'm just kidding, Walter. Don't stop. That feels ssoooo good. On second thought, wait. I've gotta take a bathroom break. Don't move. I'll be right back."

She hopped out of bed and made her way slowly towards the tiny bathroom. The lights were still off, and she stumbled once, almost falling over his big boots. "Next time, Walter, put these some place where I won't break my neck," she said peevishly as she rubbed her toes.

"Sorry," he said, and leaned down to search for the offending boot. When she came back into the room, after peeing for the fiftieth time that day, he was sitting up, leaning against the rickety headboard. He had smoothed the sheets as best he could in the dark. She crawled in bed beside him, he put his arm around her and they sat there in the dark, talking softly.

"Honestly, Dana, should you be watching your weight so closely? I mean, you're eating for two now, right?"

"No, sweetheart. My weight gain is fine. Any weight a woman gains in the first 20 weeks of pregnancy is going onto her frame, not the the weight of the baby. That's why some women have such a hard time losing the fat after she has her baby. Later, I will need to make sure I gain enough weight, or else my body will start breaking down muscle and bone to make sure the baby is well-nourished. It's a little parasite at that stage, and my body will do anything to maintain it. I'm eating healty right now, to make sure the both of us are getting the proper vitamens. I'm not saying it's not a struggle, but it's worth it." She snuggled against his side.

"How are things going with you and Agent Doggett? Is he giving you a hard time? I get your reports, but words on a paper can't really tell me how you two are getting along," Skinner asked.

Scully sighed and sat up straight. "He's a good agent, very thorough, *extremely* skeptical about paranormal activities. He seems like a decent enough guy, and I would trust him in the field with my life. But," she sighed again and shook her head, "I don't know if I can trust him with this investigation. I'm still not convinced he's not Kersh's little mole. And until I know for sure, I can't let my guard down. I can't tell him about the pregnancy, even though I'm going to have to eventually. I'm afraid Kersh will shut us down. And besides....."

When she didn't continue Skinner asked, "Besides?" He shook his head slightly, eyebrows raised, "Besides what?"

"I think he's investigating me. I think he suspects something is going on and he's not going to rest until he uncovers it." She looked at Skinner, eyes clouded with worry. "If he digs too deep, he might find out about us. And I don't want that to happen, not yet. Not till we find Mulder."

Skinner said, "Is that why all the "James Bond" secrecy getting here? Why would he be investigating you, Dana? Surely he doesn't think you're responsible for Mulder's disappearance?"

"I don't know," she said, moving over to the edge of the bed. She started to dress in the clothes she had left neatly folded on a chair. "I just...he asks some rather probing questions. And if he is working for Kersh, he might be looking for something to remove me from the X-Files. Then, he and Kersh can shut it down, and he can move on up the promotions ladder. I don't trust him, Walter. I don't trust anybody. Except you."

"Maybe you're just reading things into what he says." Skinner got up also and started to dress in the dark. "He's not into paranormal phenomena and he's asking questions to get some background. I don't get the impressions he's overly fond of Kersh, nor do I think he's all that ambitious that he would step on you in order to get to the fifth floor. Cut him a little slack; it's not like he's following you or tapping your phone or anything. In the meantime, we need to find a way to get together without raising suspicions of an affair at work. It won't do either of us any good if I get booted out for having relations with one of my female agents. Even though I may be engaged to her. Somebody will still charge me with harrassment." He groped on the floor for his boots, trying to remember which way he had thrown the one Scully had stepped on.

She reached down and handed him his boot. She moved slowly around the bed until she was on the same side as he. She put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Walter. I know it would be so much easier on you if we were to get married right away. But you know what they'll do. They'll use it as an excuse to move me away from the X-Files and you. And I need you both right now."

He stood up after putting on his boot, took her in his arms and hugged her to him. "It's okay, really. We need to find Mulder, and we can do a better job if we can work together. I still feel guilty about not protecting him. I feel like I let you down, as well as him." He fell silent as she hugged him tightly.

"It's not your fault, you know that," she admonished. "Mulder was always putting himself into danger. I just...I just hope he's all right."

"Speaking of putting yourself into danger, Dana, I know you and Doggett are investigating X-File cases again, but I want you to be careful. Don't do anything that's going to put yourself in danger. If you do, I'll pull you off the field so fast, it'll make your head swim."

She laughed, "You wouldn't dare. I'd fight you every step of the way."

"I'm not kidding, Dana," he said solemnly. "I'm not going to let you risk your life and the life of our child. Understand?"

"No, actually, I don't." She moved away from him. "You know I wouldn't do anything like that intentionally. But it comes with the job. Besides, if you do tie me down to a desk, that's going to raise a lot of red flags. And that's what I'm NOT wanting. I'm a little insulted that you would try and pull a stunt like that. As if I didn't have enough sense to take care of myself. Don't patronize me, Walter. I know what I'm doing."

"Are you sure? Or are you letting your guilt make you a little reckless?"

"Guilt? You think I feel guilty?", she said indignantly.

"Yes, I do," he turned and reached for the cap he had left on the headboard post. "I think you feel that you deserted Mulder when he needed you, even though you didn't know he was sick. I think you're even feeling guilty about us, that if we hadn't gotten together that maybe you could have protected him some how. That this wouldn't have happened to him if you had stayed..I don't know, faithful for lack of a better word. But, Dana, you don't know that he wouldn't have gotten abducted anyway. That his search wouldn't have led him to this point in spite of all the protection you would have tried to give him."

"I think...I think YOU think too much," she fumed. "I may feel guilty about him being sick and not feeling he could come to me, but I do NOT feel guilty about us. You talk about me reading too much into Doggett's actions, well, I think you're doing the same thing. You tell me to cut Doggett some slack, well, you do the same with me. Give me some credit, Walter, for having some common sense.
"And I suggest you watch your back with Doggett. I don't trust him, and I think he's out to get me. And it would be a feather in his cap if he could hand Kersh me AND you. What a boost that would be if he could prove impropriety on your part. He might even end up with your job."

"Oh, for the love of....", Skinner stopped. "You *are* beginning to sound more and more like Mulder. Maybe Doggett asks questions in order to help him in his search for Mulder. Maybe he's just being friendly. Not everyone in the Bureau is involved in some kind of conspiracy. Look, I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be careful. I'm just saying that maybe Doggett is his own man, not Kersh's errand-boy, and that you might ought to consider giving him a little more to work with than the few scraps of information you're giving him."

"Scraps of information? What makes you think I'm not being completely forth-coming? Has he complained about me? That would be just like him to go behind my back and complain to you!", she muttered angrily.

"No, he's not said one word to me about you. But, *I* know you, and I know there is a possibility you might hold back just a little until you feel comfortable with him. And obviously you don't feel that way, yet." He reached out into the dark, finding her shoulder. "Look, all I'm saying is let him help you. He's a good investigator. I think he's trying hard to find Mulder, and you could make it a lot easier for him if you tell him everything you know. Okay?"

He put both his hands on her shoulders, then slid them up to her neck, his thumbs stroking her jawline. He could tell she was standing tense, arms folded. He wasn't sure if she was thinking about what he had said or merely ignoring him. His hands moved up higher on her neck, till one thumb was softly caressing her cheek, while the other moved over her lips.

"And, please be careful in the field," he whispered. "I don't want anything to happen to you." He felt her relax, she smiled, her facial muscles moving under his hands. She unfolded her arms and placed her hands at his waist, hooking her thumbs into the belt-loops on his jeans. He lowered his head to hers, brushing her lips with his, then softly with his tongue till she opened her mouth allowing him entrance.

He played with her lips, her tongue until she was gasping, then he pulled his head back and whispered, "I've got to go. When can I see you again?"

"Don't go, stay for a little while longer," she said breathlessly. She was kissing his chest, his neck, his jawline. "Please, please stay." She pulled his head back down and this time she was the one playing with his mouth. He moaned at the promises she was making of what they would do if he stayed.

He shook his head, both to clear it and to tell her no. "I can't. God knows I want to, but it's a long way back to my place, and I've got to be at the office early...in fact, in about 4 hours. Call me when we can *rendezvous* again. And next time, some place not quite so...*siesta rates*, okay?"

Scully chuckled, "*Rendezvous*? Makes it seem so sleazy. Okay, next time, somewhere outside the city, and a little bit classier." She hugged him to her, "Walter, I have a sonogram next week, do you think you might be able to get away from the office? I'd like to have you there, if you can. If not, well, then I understand."

"Tell me when, where, and what time and I'll be there if it kills me." He knew she would understand, but he also knew how much it would mean to her if he could make it.

He kissed her again, then made his way to the door. He opened it a crack, checked for any wandering drunks who might still be trying to stagger to their room, then slipped out. He made his way across the courtyard, and slipped into the shadows, staying near the building. He thought he might have to walk a couple of blocks to find a cab, but as he rounded the corner, one stopped and two people tumbled out. A heavy-set man and a thin, overly dressed woman helped each other up, laughing uproariously at their perdicament. Both were roaring, stinking drunk. After they staggered away, Skinner hopped into the cab and gave his address in Crystal City. At this time of night, there wasn't much traffic and he wasn't going to risk not being able to get another ride.

He settled down in the seat, going over the evening in his mind. He missed Scully, missed seeing her at work, being with her in the evenings. He hoped they could find Mulder soon, he was anxious to get on with his life, their life together. He wasn't being selfish; well, not entirely selfish. He did want to find Mulder, safe, sound, and in one piece. But he also wanted to marry Scully, then get down to the business of awaiting the birth of their child.
So engrossed was Skinner in his thoughts that he failed to notice the Dodge pick-up that had started its engine and then u-turned in the middle of the street in order to follow the cab.

As Skinner sat in the backseat of the cab, almost dozing, he noticed the driver kept glancing into his rearview mirror.

"Something wrong?", he asked, sitting forward and leaning on the front seat.

"I dunno," muttered the cabdriver. "That pick-up has been following us ever since I picked you up. You not some kind of goodfella, are you? I don't need no more bullet holes in my car."

Skinner sat back in the seat, not wanting to turn around. "Are you sure we're being followed? Have you been able to tell how many are in the truck, is it a man or a woman?"

"I've been tailed before, so I know what to watch for. Nah, he don't get that close. I figure it's a man, though, and he's real good at tailin'. Never gets too close." The cabby smiled into the rearview mirror. He was ready to play "Cops". "Want I should lose him? Or do you just want me to take you on to where you're goin'?"

"No, no. Don't take me home! Tell you what, how far to Georgetown Medical?" Skinner was trying to formulate a plan; he wanted to see who was driving that truck, but he didn't want to get seen himself.

"About ten blocks from here, why?"

"There's a parking garage, right? Turn in and start up like you're gonna let me off at the third floor entrance level. He'll be careful not to follow up too closely. He'll probably have his window down to hear if the car door slams, telling him I've gotten out. Then he'll come on up the ramp, park, and follow me into the building."

"You gonna catch him in there?" The cabby was disappointed, he wanted to see a confrontation, preferably with a fight, or at least some kind of stand-off.

"No. You're going to wait for my signal to slam the door, you'll take off nice and slow, and as you make the turn to go toward the exit ramp, I should be able to get a good look at who's following us. Then, you can take me to the J. Edgar Hoover Building." Skinner took off his cap, preparing for the little ruse.

The cabby shook his head in confusion. "I'm gonna pick you up at the entrance? How you gonna get downstairs so fast?"

"I'm NOT getting out. I'm going to crouch down in the floorboard behind you, that'll put me in the shadows. After I see who's following me, we'll just take off. Do you see what I mean?" Skinner had worked with green agents before and knew that sometimes what seemed like a simple concept to him might be totally undecipherable to someone not familiar with undercover operations. And this poor guy was completely confused.

"Okay, boss, if you say so," the cabbie shrugged. "Here we go, are you ready?"

"Yeah," said Skinner. He lowered himself into the floor of the cab, hoping nothing too disgusting was down there. The cabbie may have been confused at first, but he followed Skinner's plan exactly. At the third floor entrance to the medical center, he got out, opened the right rear passenger door, and casually looked over to the ramp he had just driven up.

"I can hear his truck, boss. He's back there waitin', all right. Okay, here goes." He slammed the door, stood for a moment, as if waiting for his passenger to go in, then went around to the driver's side and got in. Just as he closed his door, the Dodge pick-up came up the ramp, and smoothly slid into a parking space.

The driver put the car into drive and smoothly accelerated. He followed the arrows indicating the way to the exit ramp, and as he passed on the far side of the garage he said to Skinner, "He's gettin' out. He's checking us out to make sure nobody's in the back seat. Okay, he's looking away. Do you know him?"

Skinner raised his head up just enough to look out the passenger window, but not enough that his silhouette could be seen. He stared at the tall, thin man making his way to the entrance.

"Yeah, I know him," sighed Skinner. "Take me on to the JEH Building, please. And thanks for your help."

It looked like he may owe Scully an apology. The man who had been tailing him was John Doggett. And now Skinner needed to find out exactly how much he had seen, what he knew, and what he thought he knew.

Skinner sat at his desk in the JEH Building, impatiently drumming his fingers on the personnel file folder in front of him. It was only 9:30 a.m., but he was tired. He had tried to catch a couple of hours sleep on the sofa in his office, but had given up at 6:00. He got up, washed up as best he could in the tiny little washroom and then changed into the spare suit he kept in his closet for emergencies.
He rubbed his eyes; they were gritty from lack of sleep. He wished he had asked Kimberly to get him some breakfast, instead he had drank numerous cups of coffee. Now he was jittery from the caffeine and had indigestion. He popped a couple of Tums and waited for Kimberly to signal that his next appointment had arrived. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to Agent Doggett, but he felt compelled to find out what the man knew or suspected.

He opened the file folder and went over the contents one more time. He often familiarized himself with background information on the new agents under him, he felt it made for better understanding of their weaknesses and strengths. And he liked to check with them after a month or two to see how they were adjusting to working under him, so this meeting was not something out of the ordinary. It was the reason *behind* the meeting that was extraordinary.

He hadn't told Scully about Doggett tailing her. He didn't want to make her even more paranoid until he had some idea of Doggett's reason. He wanted to know if it was part of some plan to get her off the X-Files, or if Doggett suspected their relationship was something more than they presented at work. And if the agent did suspect anything was that the reason he tried to follow Skinner? To make sure that it was, indeed, him? He sighed; how was he going to get inside this guy's head without tipping him off? He wished he could postpone this until he wasn't so tired. Instead, Kimberly buzzed him that Agent Doggett was waiting.

"Send him in," he said. The door to his office opened and John Doggett walked in. Skinner motioned for him to sit in one of the two "guilty until proven otherwise" chairs in front of his desk. The agent sat straight, not slouching as Mulder was sometimes wont to do, but not rigid. Attentive, that would be the word to describe his posture.

"So, Agent Doggett, how are you adjusting to working on the X-Files? Not exactly what you're used to, is it? I don't assume you got many calls for the NYPD to invesigate ghosties and ghoulies."

"No, sir, not exactly," said Doggett. "We had enough on our hands with the perps from the natural world without having to deal with the supernatural, too. I'm adjusting fine, I suppose. You probably should ask Agent Scully how I'm doing. Unless, of course, that's why I'm in here. Has she voiced any complaints or concerns regarding me?"

"No, no," Skinner said smoothly, "she said you are a very thorough investigator. She also said that you were extremely skeptical of most of the cases you two have been involved in, but she understands that skepticism. She was in your shoes, back when she started 8 years ago. No, I just thought I'd meet with you to see how things were going, if you had any questions or any complaints." He smiled at the agent, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Doggett sat in the chair sizing up the Assistant Director. He knew from the scuttlebutt that Skinner was considered a fair man; stern, but he treated all his agents the same. Except, maybe, in the case of Mulder and Scully. He had always seemed to cut those two a lot of slack. Doggett wondered if he would be able to confide in his superior about his suspicions concerning Agent Scully.

"Well, Sir, I've enjoyed working with Agent Scully. She's very thorough, very knowledgable. I will admit, though, some of her theories seemed pretty far-fetched for an old city cop like me. I used to dealing with man's inhumanity towards man, not the unexplainable's inhumanity towards man. It's taking some getting used to." He folded his hands across his lap, propped his left ankle on his knee, and waited for Skinner's response.

"So, has she been giving you insights into how to approach these cases? Sometimes, according to Mulder, you need to accept things that may seem completely unacceptable. Sort of like his disappearance. I know the FBI wants to think otherwise, but I know what I saw, as unbelievable as it may seem," Skinner said as he looked down at the folder still laying on his desk.

Doggett waited a moment, Skinner seemed to be reliving that night again in his mind's eye. The agent cleared his throat, and Skinner started slightly. "Yes, sir, Agent Scully has been very helpful about the cases. But, in the disappearance of Agent Mulder she's been less than forthcoming." He was getting into treacherous territory here. He didn't want to reveal all his suspicions just yet, but felt that Skinner wouldn't accept anything but the truth. "She seems to be holding back something. I'm not sure if it's anything important or even relevent to the case, but I know it's something she's hiding. If I ask her, she clams up and gives me a look that basically tells me where to stick any further questions."

Skinner had picked up a pen and was unconciously twirling it with his fingers. It was a nervous mannerism that Doggett did not fail to notice. His forehead creased slightly. Was it possible that Skinner knew more than he was letting on?

"So," Skinner said slowly, "what do you suspect, exactly? Do you think she might know more about Mulder than she's letting on? Or, do you think she's keeping something else from you?" Skinner put the pen down and folded his hands on top of it. He looked the agent directly in the eye, waiting for his answer.

"My first inclination is to think that she knows a whole lot more than she's telling about the disappearance. In fact," Doggett hesitated slightly, then continued, "in fact, I wonder sometimes if maybe she's not directly involved with it."

Skinner continued to stare at Doggett. At first he felt a sense of relief that Doggett was still unaware of his relationship with Scully. Then, he realized this could actually be worse for Scully. If Doggett suspected she had aided and abetted Mulder, or in some way caused his disappearance, it could mean dismissal from the Bureau, disgrace for her, and possible criminal charges if Mulder was never found.

"Let me get this straight, you think Agent Scully helped Agent Mulder stage his disappearance. For what purpose? Or do you think she made him disappear on her own? And what about me, Agent Doggett. I SAW the spacecraft, I SAW him disappear. Did they, or she, dupe me? Or do you think I'm in on it, too?" Skinner's jaw was beginning to clench.

"No, sir. I don't think you're in on anything. I think maybe Agent Mulder and Agent Scully planned this to happen for whatever reason, and they somehow convinced you that you believe you saw him leave in an alien spacecraft. Maybe it was hypnosis, maybe it was a post-hynotic suggestion. Maybe it was just such a good story that you willingly believed it."

"And why do you think they would come up with such an elaborate hoax. For what reason?", Skinner asked softly.

"I don't know, sir. I know they were under investigation because of a runaway budget. Maybe they were worried about getting shut down again, and that this time the X-Files wouldn't get re-opened. I know they supposedly had a huge fight and had not been on the best of terms. I suspect the fight was staged in order for everyone to think they were no longer involved. I know that the rumor mill had them as a couple for several years. I would be willing to bet that in a couple of months, Agent Scully will suddenly ask for a leave of absence and will also disappear, to rejoin Mulder where ever he's hiding." Doggett sat with a slight smile on his face. His theory made such good sense to him, and he was proud of it.

"Have you told anyone else this?", asked Skinner. If Doggett had told Kersh, the deputy director wouldn't rest until he had Scully's backside on the street.

"No, sir. It's just a theory. I wouldn't want to say anything until I've got some kind of proof. In fact, I was wondering if maybe you could help me with that. I was hoping you might be able to talk to her and find out anything. I like Agent Scully and I want to make sure she can explain herself and throw some light onto Mulder's disappearance. The last thing I want to do is throw suspicion on her.

"So, sir, do you think she'd open herself up to you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think she'd talk to you and share things she doesn't feel comfortable sharing with me?"

Skinner flushed slightly, "I..I'll see what I can do about getting her to open up. But, Agent Doggett," he said with a slight smile, "there might be some things that she might tell me that *I* won't feel comfortable sharing with you."

Skinner leaned back in his chair, the leather squeeking softly. "Let me ask you something, Agent Doggett, and I'd appreciate an honest answer. Are you trying to shut down the X-Files? I know that Mulder has been a thorn in Kersh's side for a couple of years, and now with him gone, this would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of Agent Scully, also. Is that why you're investigating her?"

"I'm not investigating her, sir. I'm looking for Mulder, and to do that I need to know as much about him and the people around him as possible. I feel that she may know more than she's saying, that she's concealing information and, therefore hindering me in my search. All I've been assigned to do is find Mulder. There is no hidden agenda that I'm aware of. I know of Kersh's dislike for the X-Files and Agents Mulder and Scully, and he has hinted that finding Mulder would be a boost to my career." Doggett put his foot down and leaned forward. "But Assistant Director, you can check my file and you'll see I've never climbed on the backs of my fellow agents in order to get any type of promotion or recognition. I like Agent Scully, I am not looking for dirt in order for Kersh to dismiss her. If she's involved I'd rather find out about it first, so that she can explain it to you and me, and then maybe the three of us can find a way to...protect her from any reprecussions."

Skinner propped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. He rocked back and forth slightly. "How are you planning to uncover any involvement by her? If she won't talk to you, then what's left?"

"I'm keeping my eyes and ears open, Sir," Doggett said, nodding his head slightly.

"Are you surveilling her? Tapping her phone? What?" Skinner's forehead wrinkled slightly.

Doggett hesitated for a beat. "No sir, I'm not tapping her phone. I'm not crazy enough to do that without some kind of court order, and I don't know of any legal reason for it. Let's just say I'm paying close attention."

Skinner noticed that he did not deny following Scully. "Agent Doggett," he said with a tired sigh, "I can almost guarantee that Agent Mulder's disappearance is the real thing. Neither he nor Agent Scully would go to such lengths in order to....you know, you still haven't given me a plausible reason why they would plan and execute something like this."

"I don't know, sir," he said with a shrug. "If I could come up with a reason, that would go a long way to explain her involvement. And might help clear her if any of this comes to light. I don't want to hurt her future with the FBI, sir, honestly."

"You're looking in the wrong places for Mulder, Agent Doggett. She's not involved, I can assure you. You need to listen to her concerning the X-Files. The answers are there, you just have to be a little more open to extreme possibilities." Skinner rose from his chair in dismissal. Doggett hesitated a moment, then he too stood up.

"Sir, my gut-feeling is she's hiding something. It has to be about Mulder's disappearance; I mean, what else could it be? If you can convince her that I'm just trying to help find Mulder and protect her, I'd appreciate it." Doggett stood a moment waiting for Skinner's reponse.

"I..I'll talk to her, Agent Doggett. No guarantees, though. She's a stubborn woman." Skinner gave the agent a half smile.

As Doggett turned to leave Skinner stopped him, "John." Doggett turned back towards the A.D., surprised at the use of his first name.
"Watch out for her in the field. She..I've noticed she's getting a little reckless, taking chances she wouldn't have taken before. And take care of yourself, too. I don't want to lose two more good agents."

"Yes, sir," said Doggett. His clear blue eyes stared at Skinner for a moment, then he opened the door and left.
Skinner sat down heavily in his chair. He hadn't realized how tense he had been throughout the interview. He rubbed his hand over his face, knocking his glasses askew. He straightend them, then reached for his phone. Punching his private line, he dialled a number he had just recently memorized. He heard a series of clicks and tones as the phone was answered. Paranoid, unbelievably paranoid.

"Lone Gunmen," came the cheery response.

"I need your help."

Skinner stood outside the metal door of the warehouse listening to the various locks and bolts being opened. Jesus, these guys had better security than the Huntsville State Prison's death row. He counted three video monitors and was sure there was at least one more that he couldn't see. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was tired and this was taking too damn long. He raised his fist to bang on the door again and almost hit Langly in the face.

"Whoa, Eliot Ness, slow down. It takes a minute to undo all our safeguards." Langly stepped aside to allow Skinner to pass, then closed and locked the door again. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit? You never come just for a social call, and your phone call was a bit cryptic."

Skinner slowly looked around the cramped and crowded room. Computer equipment covered every available flat surface. There was little in the way of lighting, which made walking treacherous.

"Aren't you guys afraid of getting ricketts? Are there ANY windows in this place? I wouldn't be surprised if your offspring are born without eyes, like those little fish that live in underground streams in caves. And what is that SMELL? It's like a cross between burned insulation, bacon, and dirty sneakers. Whew!!!" Skinner fanned the air in front of his face. "Does this place ever get any fresh air?"

"Did you come just to criticize our living quarters or is there another reason for your visit?", inquired Forhike indignantly. The three were sensitive to any criticism of their home/office/printing room. They felt it was the epitome of electronic sophistication.

Skinner picked up an old copy of "The Lone Gunman" and was waving it in front of him. "No, actually, I came to ask for some help. Or maybe advice. I'm not sure which." He stopped fanning and looked down at the headlines of the newspaper. "*Austin Powers: Hollywood Fiction or Top-Secret Fact?* Oh, man!"

"Skinner," said Frohike impatiently, "what do you want?"

The tall man sighed and cleared his throat. "Well, uh, I was wondering if you all had any equipment available that would be able to find any bugs or wiretaps or any other audio surveillance equipment in a room."

"You saying the FBI, one of the most high-tech law-enforcement organizations in the world, doesn't have de-bugging devices? Man, I'm losing my confidence in our government," grinned Langly.

"No, of course we have the equipment, but what I'm needing it for is not...exactly...official business. It's more, uh, personal. I don't want to have to requisition the stuff and have to explain what I need it for. I just figured if you guys had anything comparable, I could borrow it." Skinner put his hands behind his back and stared down at his shoes, unable to look at the three men.

"Uh, A.D. Skinner, exactly where are you wanting to sweep for bugs?", asked Byers softly.

Skinner hesitated for a moment, cleared his throat again, then looked directly at Byers. "Dana's apartment."

"What's the matter, old man? Afraid the delectable Agent Scully is already looking for some younger action?" Frohike looked around at his two partners, chuckling at his own joke. The next thing he knew his back was being bent over a worktable, Skinner's big hand around his throat. "Eeeewwwkkk", he gurgled.

"Frohike, if I didn't need you right now, I'd snap your neck like farmer's wife killing a chicken. I'm concerned about her future and I don't need any crude jokes right now. I'm walking a thin line and you DON'T want to push me. Got it?"

The smaller man nodded slowly and Skinner let go of him. Frohike looked over at Byers and Langly, both of whom were studiously looking at the ceiling.

"Thanks for the help, guys," he rasped as he straightened his t-shirt.

Byers turned to Skinner, "Why are you worried about her future? Is she in any physical danger? Or are the powers that be threatening to shut down the X-Files again?"

"No," Skinner shook his head, "I'm sure she's not in any kind of mortal peril, so to speak. But her new partner is very suspicious of her. He thinks she might be involved with Mulder's disappearance. He SAYS he's not out to do anything to harm her career, and I'd like to believe him. But still, there's always that possibility that he could be lying to me. I need to find out if he's bugged her place. And that's where you guys are going to help me."

An hour later he realized he had definitely come to the right place. The boys had more equipment, some of which may have at one time had government serial numbers, than he'd need for five apartments.

The four of them agreed to meet at Scully's apartment the next evening to sweep for bugs. She was going to Utah to investigate a murder, and because Skinner didn't want to increase her suspicions of her new partner, he opted to not tell her about his plans.

She had given him a key to her place after their return from West Virginia, before all the confusion of Mulder's abduction. He had never used it, and felt a bit guilty doing so now. He justified it, though, with the idea that he was protecting her. Yeah, right. He knew she'd raise unholy hell if she found out he had not told her of his concerns. Oh, well, he'd deal with that if and when the time came.

At ten o'clock that evening, Skinner unlocked the door and slowly opened it. "Dana," he called softly. He knew she should be in Utah already, but he wanted to make sure he didn't surprise her if she had changed her plans.

After looking around the living room, he signaled for the three Gunmen to follow him in. They were dressed in black, an affectation Skinner had scoffed at, and each carried a piece of electronic equipment. Byers immediately started checking the living room, while Langly went into the kitchen. Frohike slowly walked into the bathroom, looking at the read-out on the gray box he carried in one hand.

"Anything?", Skinner asked Byers.

"No, not that I can pick up. The phone is clean, and I'm checking the outlets. Her computer is on a separate phone line, and I'll check that in a minute. I don't think anyone can break into her files. She had us put up all kinds of security and firewalls a while back. It was after that guy Kreitchgau had hacked into it after she had returned from Africa. I'm pretty sure it's secure. But I'll check anyway." Byers turned away from Skinner, opening the doors to the blonde armoire by the front door.

Skinner wandered into the kitchen to see how Langly was doing. The tall, lanky-haired blond was munching on an impromptu ham sandwich while he checked the insides of the cabinets for microphones.

"Langly!! What do you think you're doing? She'll know someone's been here if you make a mess. Make sure you don't leave any crumbs. Couldn't you wait until we were through?" Skinner grabbed a paper towel and handed it to Langly.

"I was hungry! It's not like she's going to miss one slice of ham and some bread, for Criminy's sake. It was just staring at me when I opened the fridge to check it out. I'll clean up, don't worry. Do you think she'd miss a little juice? This ham is making me thirsty."

"Drink water, for God's sake. Don't use a glass, just drink out of the faucet. I'm telling you, she's a woman living alone. She'll notice ANYTHING out of place." Skinner was getting a little antsy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "Have you found anything?"

"Other than the fact that the woman is surely hiding Obsessive Compulsive tendencies? Nah, nothing."

Skinner sighed and went to find Frohike. It suddenly dawned on him that the last place the little man should be checking was Scully's bedroom.

He found him standing in front of her dresser, one long drawer open. Oh, cripes, it was the drawer she kept his things in. Even though the Gunmen knew all about him and Scully, he also was aware that their first loyalties were with Mulder. For some reason, he felt that his things in Scully's apartment might make them feel uncomfortable or even disloyal to their friend. He should have known better than to think that with Frohike.

"Nice boxers," chuckled the little man. He was holding up a pair of black boxers with big red hearts. He reached over and clicked off the lamp on the dresser, and big red lips glowed softly between the hearts. She had given them to him as a joke, knowing he'd never wear them. She, however, had put them on once, and he still remembered the way she looked with them riding low on her hips. She had also put on one of his white tee shirts and tied it at her waist. The memory of what had followed caused him to swallow noisily.

"Put them back, Frohike," he said raspily. He cleared his throat. "She'll know if anything's been disturbed. Have you found anything?"

"Nope, J. Edgar, the place appears to be clean. Unless the good Agent Doggett has access to electronic surveillance that we don't know about, which I doubt, he ain't keeping tabs on her here. There's no sign of audio or video equipment. I'd say he's just guessing and hoping she'll let something slip. Did you guys find anything?", Frohike said to Byers and Langly as they came into the bedroom.

"Nothing," said Byers. "I think Frohike's right, Mr. Skinner. I suggest we keep a close eye on Agent Doggett, because right now that's all we can do. Unless you want us to put equipment into place so we can check on him? Would you like for us to set up monitoring equipment?" Byers had an almost eager look on his face. These guys were taking their roles as private eyes a little too seriously.

Skinner assured the Lone Gunmen that he did not want any surveillance equipment in Doggett's house. As they moved to the front door to leave, he stopped them and turned towards Frohike.

"Empty your pockets, Frohike," he said.

"I beg your pardon?", Frohike said innocently. "Why should I do that?"

"I wanna see what's in your pockets. I wanna make sure you are taking any *trophies* from Dana's dresser. Come on, Frohike, turn'em out."

"Are you going to make Byers and Langly do the same?", he said as he slowly emptied his pockets into Skinner's outstretched hands.

"Probably not," Skinner growled, "Byers is not the type, and Langly would eat what ever he took. Keep going, Melvin, you've still got one more pocket." Skinner wiggled his fingers.

Forhike sighed mightily and reached into the last jacket pocket. He slowly pulled out a pair of lavendar bikini panties. He looked at them sadly, twirled them on his finger, then laid them carefully in Skinner's hands.

Skinner closed his hand around them, and looked menacingly at the older man.
"What were you going to do with them, Frohike? Mount them on your wall? Wear them? Sleep with them? She'd've killed us all if she knew you had taken them. Boy, you like to live dangerously, don't you?" Skinner went into the bedroom and put the lacy undergarment back in the appropriate drawer. He looked at all the different colors, and smiled to himself. Who would believe that under those dark conservative suits was some extremely colorful bits of nylon and lace? That was one of the things he loved about her, the little mysteries and secrets she kept hidden from the world but revealed to him.

"All right, you guys," he said as he opened the door to let them out, "thanks for your help. I feel better now. But, just to be on the safe side, don't tell Dana. She might not appreciate our doing this without her consent."

"You mean, she'll kick our asses if she finds out we were in her place withour her knowing it," said Langly.

"Yeah, something like that."


Two weeks later the last thing on Skinner's mind was the possibility of being the brunt of Scully's anger. He was livid. Agents Doggett and Scully were in the hot seats, waiting for him to finish reading the reports they had submitted to him. Doggett sat with one ankle propped on his knee, hands clasped in front of him. She sat with her feet flat on the floor, hands twisting slightly in her lap. She knew all hell was fixing to break loose.

Skinner read the reports quietly, no comments, no questions. But as he read farther along, his jaw began to clench. By the time he reached the end of Doggett's report a vein on his temple was pulsating and his mouth was clamped so tightly shut he had to take a deep breath in order to relax it. He laid the folder on the desk, placed his hands on either side of it, and stared down at it for a moment. When he cleared his throat to speak, both agents snapped to attention. Scully closed her eyes, waiting for the outburst that was sure to follow.

"Very interesting," he said calmly. "It seems you had a rather...close call, Agent Scully. And if it had been for Agent Doggett's quick action, you might have gone the way of several other victims. I commend you, Agent Doggett. It looks like someone was capable of clear thinking in a dangerous situation."

Scully opened her eyes and looked at Skinner. He was still looking down at the report.

Doggett's forehead wrinkled slightly, "Uh, thank you, sir. However, it was Agent Scully who located the cult's hideout, and revealed their murderous plans. At the risk of her own life, I might add."

"Yes, yes she did put herself at grave risk. Alone, I might add. Knowing full well that in a sitution where hostages have been taken before, she should not go in without adequate backup. You did try to act alone, didn't you Agent Scully?" He still wasn't looking at her.

She sat for a beat, lifted her chin and said, "Yes, sir."

"Why, Agent Scully?"

"Sir?"

"Why did you take on this particular case alone? Why didn't you call your partner and have him accompany you? Did you think that because of his inexperience he would be in the way? He's not going to learn how the X-Files work if you keep excluding him. Or, don't you trust him? I think he's proving himself to be quite trustworthy, don't you? Or maybe the problem was, you were just being a smart-ass." He finally looked at her, his dark eyes almost black with anger.

"Sir, I don't think Agent Scully...."

"Sir," she said slowly, her own anger building, "I have apologized to Agent Doggett for my actions. I know I should have trusted him more, and I've told him so. I can assure both of you, it won't happen again."

"I ought to make sure it never happens again. I ought to tie you down to a desk and let Agent Doggett do all the field work. You have broken one of the oldest rules of the FBI, that agents should not go into unknown territory alone. If you can't seem to remember that, then maybe it's time to put you in an office where you won't have to."

Agent Doggett sat back and watched the tension build between these two. He had no idea why A.D. Skinner was so upset, that rule was bent by most agents at one time or another.

"Sir," Scully said, "Agent Mulder went off several times alone on cases and you never restricted him."

"Are you Agent Mulder?"

"Sir," she spat out the word, "are you saying because I'm a woman that I shouldn't have the same freedom to use my best judgement on cases? That smacks of discrimination, *Sir*."

"Have you been cleared for duty?", he suddenly changed tactics. "I want an FBI doctor to clear you. I know the physicians in Utah say you're okay, but I'd prefer another opinion."

"NO!", she shouted. Biting her lips, she lowered her tone, "No."

"I want another opinion, Agent Scully. I'll not put you back on duty until I get one. Now, either use an FBI doc or your private physician, but I want a report. Do you understand me?" When she didn't answer he repeated his words slowly, "Do-you-understand-me?"

"Yes, sir," she gritted through clenched teeth.

"That'll be all." He stood to dismiss them. Doggett rose but Scully sat staring at Skinner.

"Come on, Agent Scully, let's go." Doggett held out his arm, indicating the door. She didn't move.

"Agent Doggett, go on ahead. Agent Scully seems to have something else she wants to say. Oh, and tell my assistant to go on to lunch. She can put the phones on voice mail."

"Sir, it's 10:30. Isn't that a little early......"

"Agent Doggett," Skinner turned towards the man, "give her the message. And there's no need for you to wait, Agent Scully will be downstairs in a while."

Skinner waited until Doggett closed the door firmly behind him. He then walked around the desk and went to the windows that looked out on the corridor outside his office. He started snapping them shut, grim faced.

Scully turned in her chair and spoke to his rigid back, "You can't ground me. If you do, Doggett will screw up the search for Mulder and Kersh will get what he wants. You CAN'T ground me, Walter."

"Agent Scully," he said calmly, "I'm an assistant director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and your immediate superior. I most certainly can ground you. I had warned you that I would." He went back to his desk and sat down. "You didn't seem to take me seriously."

"But, Walter, I did not think anything was going to....."

"No, Agent Scully, you didn't think. You didn't think that the X-Files are not like any other unit, that the cases you get are not the usual murder and mayhem that other sections get. You never know who or WHAT you're going to be facing. You seem to think that just because Mulder could take unnecessary risks that you can too. Well, I've got a little surprise for you, Scully, you ain't Mulder.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Why? Because I'm not grounded in paranormal studies, or...or...because I didn't find the X-Files but was assigned. Or is it because I'm a woman?"

"GOD DAMN IT!!", he shouted, suddenly rising and leaning over his desk. "What the hell's wrong with you? Have you *conveniently* forgotten that you're pregnant? With MY child?" His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.

She stood and leaned on his desk, looking up into his angry face. "I haven't forgotten, Walter. When I realized what they were going to do, I begged them not to. I told them I was pregnant, but it didn't make any difference. I was so scared," she blinked back the tears that were starting to blind her. "I was so scared for our baby," she whispered.

"Dana," he asked softly, "do you want this baby?" He hated asking, but he needed for her to start thinking about what could happen.

"What?", she shook her head slightly. "How can you ask me that? How can you think otherwise? You KNOW how much this baby means to me. How dare you!"

"You're not acting like it. You're putting yourself at unnecessary risk. I know you want to find Mulder, so do I. More than anything I want to find him. But not at the risk of your life or our child's. I won't ground you if you promise me you'll stop taking so many chances." He came around to her side of the desk. "I will do anything to keep you safe. If necessary, I'll even transfer you off the X-Files. I don't want to, Dana, but I'm not going to let you get hurt. Promise me you'll be more careful and the X-Files are yours. If you don't, well," he shrugged. "It's your choice."

His eyes held hers. Concern, determination, love; all were there for her to see. She was taking so long to answer, he was beginning to think she was going to say no.

"I promise," she whispered. His face relaxed and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, relief made his brown eyes shine. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I was worrying you. I'll be more careful, for my sake and the sake of our baby." She wanted to take him in her arms, to cradle him and let him know she'd not allow anything to happen to their child. But, not here, not in his office, where any one could walk in.

"I want to see where they put that...that *slug* into your back," he said, not asking, but insisting.

"Walter...", she started.

"Show me."

"It's healed over. Besides, it's below the waistline on this skirt. If someone comes in....."

"Show me."

"Please. I just need to see that it's healing." He stood, feet slightly apart, hands clenched at his side.

Scully lowered her eyes and turned around, unbuttoning the skirt at the back. She unzipped the skirt a couple of inches and moved the fabric down. She was not wearing any panty-hose at the instruction of the Utah physician who had released her. There on her back, about an inch or so below her waist, was the circular scar, still slightly reddened, edges raised.

Skinner knelt down to look at the scar more closely. He rubbed it carefully with his fingertips, then placed his hand over it. He turned her slightly and placed his other hand on her still flat abdomen at the same level as his hand on the scar. Because she was a small woman, the distance between his hands could be measured in what seemed to be single-digit inches. So close. So close to where his baby grew in her womb.

"Thank you for showing me," he said as he stood up. He moved back behind his desk and stood staring down at it, tapping his fingertips on its smooth surface. "You lied to me while you were in the hospital out there. You said it was nothing to worry about. That you and the baby had never been in any kind of danger. That there was no need for me to go out there. And I sat here, like a big dumb ox, believing everything you tell me. Eating it up with a freacking spoon. Don't do that again, Dana. Please. At least be honest with me." His voice was soft, sad. It was nearly breaking her heart.

She started to walk over to him when he grabbed his empty coffee mug off his desk and hurled it with incredible force at the government-issued portrait of the President of the United States. It hit the picture, shattering the glass and causing it to drop to the floor.

"GOD DAMN IT!!", he shouted, "I could kill all those motherf**kers who did that to you. I want to rip their hearts out and make them watch as they stop beating!!"

"Walter! Please!" She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it hard, trying to get him to calm down.
Just then, the double doors that led to the corridor burst open and Agent Doggett charged in. His eyes swept the room, taking in the broken picture on the floor with the remains of the coffee mug. Scully was standing beside an obviously enraged Skinner, her hand on his arm.

"Are you all right, Agent Scully?", asked Doggett, standing tensed in the middle of the room, hand ready to grab his gun if Skinner tried to make any sudden, aggressive moves.

"I'm fine," she said, looking from Skinner to Doggett. Behind him she could see a curious group gather. "Please close those doors. A.D. Skinner had a little accident with his coffee mug. Please." She indicated the doors with a jerk of her head.

Doggett turned and quickly closed the doors, "Excitement's over, folks. Another case for the X-Files, looks like there's a mug-throwing poltergeist loose in the JEH Building." He smiled and nodded at the on-lookers while firmly closing the doors. His smile was gone, though, when he once again faced the other two.

"Would somebody like to tell me what's going on?" He went to stand beside Scully. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yes, yes it is. I was just promising A.D. Skinner that I'd mend my ways and not exclude you anymore from any investigations. I apologize to both you and A.D. Skinner for my past behavior. Right, sir?" She patted Skinner's arm, trying to draw him back from his anger.

"But, the mug.....", Doggett started.

"The mug was directed at the members of the Cult. A.D. Skinner has never taken kindly to anyone who would harm any of his agents. That's what makes him such a good boss," she smiled. "If you were concerned for my well-being, I can assure you A.D. Skinner would never do anything to hurt....any of his people."

Skinner took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, shot the cuffs of his shirt further out from his jacket sleeves and sat down. "Forgive me, please, Agents, that was uncalled for. My behavior was inexcusable; my anger would be better directed at making sure nothing like these...sacrifices happen again. Now, Agent Doggett, why are you here? I thought I told you to go back downstairs. Have all my agents decided to ignore my orders?"

"Uh, yes sir, you did, but I, uh, thought I'd wait and offer my own apologies." Doggett was carefully watching Skinner. The outburst did seem out of character for the usually composed and closed assistant director.

"Your apologies for what?", Skinner said as he put away the reports from Scully and Doggett. "Which order did YOU disobey?"

Scully crossed her arms and pursed her lips. He wasn't going to forgive her quickly. Well, maybe she did deserve to feel guilty for taking uncalled for risks, but he'd better not drag this out too long or she might have to set him straight as to her tolerance for recriminations.

"It wasn't a direct order, sir, more of a request. You had asked me to make sure Agent Scully was careful in the field, and I failed to do that. I let her put herself in harm's way."

Skinner hesitated a split-second in settling the other folders on his desk. Oh shit, she was gonna let him have it now. Oh, well, in for a penny etc.... "You didn't *let* her do anything, Agent Doggett. She circumvented you. You can't watch out for her if you don't know where she's at.
Besides, I really didn't want that request to be common knowledge."

Scully was now tapping her toe. "What? You think I need a guardian angel? I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Yes, so I see. I'm not sure you need a guardian angel, Agent Scully, so much as maybe a keeper. And I still want that medical report. Now, if you two will excuse....."

"I'll call and get an appointment right away, *SIR*," she said putting more emphasis than necessary on the title. "I should be able to get in to see my doctor tomorrow."

"Maybe I ought to send an escort to make sure you get there," he muttered under his breath.

"You want me to go with her, sir?", asked Doggett with a slight grin on his face. "I could always shackle her to....."

Skinner shook his head, "No, that's all right, Agent Doggett, I think she'll make the appointment on her own. Won't you, Agent Scully?"

It was like a light had gone off behind Scully's face. "That's a good idea, Agent Doggett. Yes, I believe someone should accompany me. In fact, A.D. Skinner, I think maybe YOU should go with me. That way you can talk to my doctor and he can answer any concerns you may have regarding my fitness for duty. Yes..yes, I think that's a much better idea than a written report. Thank you, Agent Doggett."

"I was just....." Doggett started.

"I'm not sure that's appropriate, Agent Scully," said Skinner. He was looking at her, his face carefully masked to hide the hope that he would be able to go with her. "After all, maybe your doctor won't answer my questions."

"As long as I'm there and I say it's okay, he will. You won't go in for the exam, of course, but you can talk to him afterwards, face to face. You've always been there for both me and Mulder whenever we faced any kind of medical crises. You're aware of most of the health problems we've had, and I don't see why you shouldn't have access to this information, too. Right, Agent Doggett?"

Doggett was standing there watching the two of them. Scully had almost a look of triumph on her face, while Skinner was trying desperately to hide the relief that was evident in his eyes. What the hell was going on? He knew they were hiding something, but he had no clue as to what it was. Whatever it was, though, it must be huge.

"Right, Agent Doggett?", Scully repeated.

"Uh, yeah, sure, I guess so," he said. "Yeah, yes, sir, it would be a very good idea. Allay your fears, and all that."

"Well, if you think it'll be all right....", Skinner's voice trailed off as Scully interrupted him again.

"I'll call you as soon as I know when the appointment is and give you the address and what time to meet me. It shouldn't take too long, I'll have records from Utah with me to show him, so it'll be just a cursory exam. I'll get right on it, sir," She smiled and raised her eyebrow, but quickly composed herself when she noticed Doggett watching her.

"Fine, fine," said Skinner distractedly. "Now, you two really have to excuse me. I do have other agents to supervise."


The next morning Doggett waved Scully off to her appointment with her physician. She seemed unusally happy to be going to see the doctor, but then with women you never knew. Some of them actually enjoyed getting examined, although how they could like getting poked and prodded was beyond him. He wasn't going to follow her today. He wanted to go through Mulder's medical records. He was hoping they would offer some clue as to where he was hiding.

And Doggett had no doubts in his mind that Mulder's disappearance was intentional. He had forumlated some theories as to why, Mulder's current medical condition being the primary one. He was sure that the brain problems that Mulder had been experiencing may have been more serious than the medical reports indicated. As he saw it, Mulder decided to try some unorthodox treatments and Scully was helping him out. That's why all the secrecy and sneaking around that she was doing.

He wasn't sure, though, how much involvement Skinner had in the actual disappearance. He suspected the man knew what was going on now, but thought that originally Skinner may have been duped into helping out. Doggett suspected that Mulder, who had been working these strange cases for so many years, had somehow planted a post-hypnotic suggestion in Skinner's mind while they were out there in those Oregon woods.

Doggett knew that was a far-fetched idea that would have gotten him razzed by any of his former buddies on the NYPD. But after reading some of the cases in those file cabinets he was beginning to think anything was possible. He just wondered why Mulder would have come back to Washington. He would have thought the man would have stayed as far away from the center of the search as he could get. But then sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight.

The last time he had followed Scully to that low-rent motel his suspicions has been confirmed when the taxi-cab had driven in and the tall baseball-cap wearing man had gotten out. He had gone straight to the room that Doggett knew Scully was in. The lights were out over the door, and the lights in the room never came on, but he knew they were in there together. Probably having a cozy reunion after being apart for so long. He had no doubt they were lovers, in spite of the evidence to the contrary. Doggett suspected all along that the supposed estrangement over the last months before Mulder's disappearance was to throw off the rumor mill.

When Mulder had left the motel room, Doggett had followed, hoping to find out where the man was staying. But when the cab got to the Georgetown Medical Center, he had lost him. He was sure he would catch up with him at the elevators, but Mulder had somehow eluded him.

Doggett sighed. He wanted to find Mulder because that's what he had been charged to do. But the last thing he wanted was to hurt the careers of either Scully or Skinner. He had a great deal of respect for both of them, and would do all he could to protect them. Kersh wanted the X-Files closed, he considered them an embarrassment. And he wouldn't care how Doggett did it, or who got hurt in the process. But Doggett didn't work that way. When he found out the full extent of their involvement, he would try to help them as much as possible to minimize the damage to their lives.

As for Mulder, if this was his idea and he talked these two people into helping him, well then, he should take the full brunt of any reprecussions. From what Doggett could tell, the man had either completely gone over the edge, or was fast approaching it. Maybe the problems with his brain had so clouded his judgement that he hadn't taken into consideration what this could do to Skinner and Scully.
In the meantime, he'd continue to follow Scully whenever he felt she was going to meet Mulder. And she gave such clear signals of her intent that it was easy. She was an excellent investigator, but she would have made a lousy criminal. Right now, though, he was going to have to wade through all these medical records, hoping to find some hint as to where Mulder might be seeking treatment.

Skinner was ushered into Dr Parenti's office by a nurse in blue scrubs. He had sat patiently in the first floor lobby, reading parenting magazines and old issues of "The Atlantic" until Scully had called him on his cell phone.

"We're through with the examination. He's going to talk to us in his office, so why don't you come on up?", she had said.

He had taken the elevator to the third floor office, identified himself and the young nurse had quickly shown him in. Scully was sitting alone, the doctor was examining another patient, she explained. Skinner leaned down and gave her quick kiss on her lips.

"How did it go? Did he say anything? What does he think?" He had a million questions.

She smiled at him, "Hold on, let him get in here. He didn't say much because he wanted you present. Calm down, my love, everything is just fine."

They passed the time waiting for the doctor making small-talk. Skinner kept glancing at his watch. Finally he said, "What's taking so long? We've been waiting 20 minutes. Do you think he found something? Where is he?"

"Walter," she admonished gently, "I'm not his only patient. He's got several others waiting in rooms and he'll be....."

At the moment, Dr. Parenti bustled in, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry I took so long, but I wanted to see a couple of other patients and get them out of the way. Then, I could take my time answering what must be a myriad of questions." He reached out and shook Skinner's hand, "Hello, you must be the anxious father. Skinner, right? Dana's told me about you. Please, please, sit back down."

The doctor settled himself behind his desk and opened Scully's folder. He cleared his throat and picked up a lab report. "Well, to begin with, she's healthy as a horse. The doctors in Utah were very thorough in their exams, although they are as puzzled as I am about how such an organism would have been introduced into her body. Or why. However, there seems to be no residual damage, no toxins in her blood, nothing to indicate that it harmed her in any way.

"The doctors did serial blood work on her for a week, to make sure there was no changes. I ran my own chemistries and everything seems perfectly normal. From a purely physical exam, there's no damage to her spine or her spinal column. She's intact neurologically, no complaints regarding tingling, loss of feeling, pain, or loss of motion that might be associated with nerve damage. It would be nice if we could get a CT scan or even an MRI, but, because of the early stage of pregnancy, I think it's best we hold off.
"Her pelvic exam shows everything to be normal for this stage of pregnancy, no bleeding or cramping, fundal height is fine. From what I can tell, she's a very lucky woman to have experienced what she did and not have any lingering problems." The doctor stopped and looked at the anxious couple before him. He smiled, "She's fine, Mr. Skinner. Even the wound is healing nicely. Now, fire away with the questions. I know you have to have one or two."

Skinner sat for a moment, digesting everything he had heard. "Everthing is normal. Is it possible that the....organism, for want of a better word...is it possible it could have left anything inside? Something that could cause problems later? Ova, larvae, some kind of remnant that could invade or multiply later?"

"Of course, that's always a real possibility. But something would have shown up in her blood. We've examined her blood under the microscope for any tell-tale signs of contagion, but have found nothing. That's not to say something couldn't show up later, but at the present there's not indication of that happening." The doctor leaned back, his chair moaning slightly with the shift in weight. "I understand your fears, and we will, of course, be following Dana even more closely than we normally would. I can't give you any guarantees, but I can say with reasonable certainty that, barring anything unforeseen, she should have an uneventful pregnancy."

The doctor leaned forward again, facing Scully, "However, I do recommend that she exercise more caution in the future. I know she's in a rather high-risk profession, and she should take every care to make sure nothing like this happens again. Understood, Dana?"

"Yes, Doctor. I...I realize how foolish I was and I have promised both myself and Walter that I won't let that happen again. I'll do everything I can to protect this child," she laid her hand on her abdomen.

"Good. Any other questions?", he turned back to Skinner.

"What about the baby? How's it doing? Do you think it was affected at all? Could there be any problems in development because of that thing?" Skinner couldn't stop the flow of questions.

"I figured you would want to see for yourself if everything's okay. I've got our sonographer standing by so she can scan the baby. Would that be all right with you?", the doctor said as he rose from his chair.

"Yes, we'd both like that," said Scully. "I was going to ask if we could have one done. Thank you."

"Good. Now, Dana you come on with me, Eva will start the scan and Mr. Skinner she'll call you in when she's ready. You can wait in the little room right outside the door. It won't take a minute to get ready." He ushered the couple out of his office and down the hall. "Janie, take Dana to Eva and show Mr. Skinner where to wait. Dana, I want to see you again in 2 weeks, okay? But call if you have any problems or questions before then. Nice meeting you, Mr. Skinner. See you later." He handed them over to the nurse who had shown them, took a chart out of a box on the door to an exam room, knocked lightly then went in. "So, Mandy," Skinner heard him say before the door closed fully, "looks like the in-vitro worked...you're definitely pregnant."

Scully lay on the exam table, her pants and underwear pushed low on her hips. The sonographer, who had been keying demographic information on her into the ultrasound computer looked over at her and smiled. "Honey, they're gonna have to go lower than that. You're real early and I'm gonna have to scan way down in your pelvis. Get your pants to ride just about the same level as your pubic bone. There ya go, good girl."

She looked from the chart in her hands back to the computer monitor, checking to see if she got all the information in correct. Then, she lay a towel over Scully's pubic area, and tucked it into her pants. She then squirted a clear blue gel onto her abdomen. It was cold and Scully gasped.

"Sorry, new bottle. It's a little cool at first, I can't warm it up too much because then it interfers with the wand. Okay, here we go." The sonographer took the flat-headed wand and started moving it across Scully's lower abdomen. She was pressing it in slightly to get a better picture. "This your first baby?" Scully nodded yes, unable to take her eyes from the screen. "The first is the scariest, no matter what. You can read everything in the world on being pregnant, but you don't know what it's like till you been there."

She kept up a low chatter, taking Scully's mind off the tedium of trying to find an ant in a jam jar. "Ah, there it is. He was hiding from me." She reached over and clicked the keyboard, "I'm taking measurements to see how far along your are." She continued to move the wand and click the keyboard.

Finally she said, "Do you want your husband in here now? The hard part is over, and it's time the three of you got acquainted."

"Yes, please. Have him come in." Scully was grinning widely. From what she could tell, everything seemed normal.

Skinner came into the darkened room, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust from the brightness of the hall. He finally made his way over to Scully's side and took her hand. "How's it going?", he asked softly.

"Oh, it's looking good," said Eva. "Here, let me show you. That is, if he hasn't moved." She put the wand on the last place she had scanned and pressed down. A blurry black, gray, and white image went in and out of focuse, depending on the amount of pressure she put on the wand.

"There he is. See? Two arms, two legs, nice spine, big head, and very good cardiac motion. Okay, granted he doesn't look real human right now, but I've got it figured that he's about 10 weeks."

"It's a boy?", asked Skinner in wonder.

"No, hon, I don't know. His or her equipment is not quite ready for identification yet. I just prefer giving it a sex. *It* seems so...cold, clinical. I can call it a girl, if you'd like."

"No, no, it doesn't matter. But, it..he..she..everything looks okay? No problems? You're sure?" Skinner's eyes were bright, locked on the computer monitor. Scully was holding his hand with both of hers, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. It was the first time for her to see her baby, too.

"Everything is fine, just fine. The doctor has ordered serial sonos to make sure it stays that way. And with her age, it's a good idea. Now, I'm gonna freeze this image on the monitor for a bit, then I'll step out to give you two some privacy. This is usually when Daddy wants to kiss Mommy and some people find my presence a little intrusive. I'll be right back." The woman clicked the keyboard one more time and the image of their baby stayed on the screen. She left the room, knowing they wouldn't even realize she'd gone.

He kissed her then, his tongue tasting the salt of her tears in her mouth. She stroked his face, wiping the moisture that rolled slowly down his cheeks. "I love you, Dana," he whispered as he lifted her slightly from the exam table to wrap his arms around her. She put her own arms around his neck and sobbed, the days and nights of tension and worry finally finding release.

Eva came back into the room and found them wrapped in each others arms, Scully still sobbing softly. He was whispering words of comfort, wiping her face with his handkerchief. "Okay, hon," she said as she bustled around, printing out a copy of the image on the screen. "The doctor told you when to return, right? Here, let me wipe that goo off your belly, you don't want to get it on your underwear." She ran the towel she had tucked into Scully's pants over her abdomen, then she and Skinner helped Scully sit up.

"Sit there a minute, so you don't get dizzy. Okay, Dad, here's your souvenir. Take good care of this lady, and I'm sure I'll be seeing the two of you again real soon." She helped Scully down from the table, and Scully pulled up her pants. The sonographer removed her latex gloves and Scully gave her a hug. "What's that for?"

"Thank you," said Scully. "Just....thank you."

Eva smiled and waved at the couple as they walked, arms around each other, out of her office. "Don't thank me," she said softly, "thank that good-looking hunk with you."

After making a follow-up appointment and paying her bill, Scully and Skinner walked slowly towards the elevator. He was still looking at the picture of the baby. He really couldn't tell much, but it was the whole idea of it being the first time he had actual physical proof of his child. Until now, the pregnancy had only been an intellectual concept to him.

"Walter," she called his name softly. He continued to study the photo. "Walter!" He looked up, bemused.

"What? I'm sorry, you said something?"

She shook her head. "I'm trying to invite you over for the weekend and I'm getting completely ignored. If this happens before I give birth, what's it gonna be like afterwards?", she laughed.

"I'm sorry, it's just that....", he indicated the picture. "It's hard to realize that this is our baby." He shook his head to clear it. "Anyway, what about the weekend? This weekend? Where? Surely not your place."

"Well, actually, no, not my place. My mother is going out of town and wants me to watch her house. There was a break-in a couple of weeks ago, and she's a little nervous. I said I would if I could have a friend stay. She said it was okay, as long as the neighbors didn't complain about the noise."

"She said what?", Skinner gasped.

"I'm teasing, Walter. She said it would probably be a good idea for you to stay, too. If you didn't mind. I told her I didn't think you would."

"Sure, I'll stay. But I can't Friday night. I'm going to Albany for a conference and won't be back until Saturday evening. I guess I can go directly from the airport to your mother's. I'll have everything I need, and it'll save me a trip home. It'll be like we're teenagers, sneaking around when your family's out of town. Might add a little sense of excitement, wondering if we'll get walked in by your irate mother." He grinned wickedly.

"I don't think we need to add any excitement to our little party, Walter. We generally have enough to spare." The elevator had carried them down to the first floor lobby where they separated, heading for their own cars.

Scully had said she would fill Doggett in on the basic bones of the appointment with the doctor, leaving out all the references to the pregnancy, and of course, the sonogram. She started to call him on her cell phone to let him know she was on her way and was surprised when his phone rang and rang with no answer. She started to disconnect when she looked at the number on the readout. She had dialled Mulder's by mistake.

She sat for a moment in her car, thinking about how automatic it was for her to call that number. She missed Mulder, missed him more and more each day. She was happy with her private life, but she wanted him there to share some part of it. She knew he would have eventually come around and accepted her involvement with Skinner. He would have been glad she had found a life outside of the X-Files. It was his pride that had been hurt, but she knew he loved and respected her enough not to hold her back from the life she wanted.

She had to find Mulder. She needed to find him. For her sake as well as his. But she was running out of places to search. She hoped she wasn't running out of time.

Friday afternoon Scully gathered her coat and handbag and bid Doggett a happy weekend. He looked up confused.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You leaving already? It's not even three o'clock yet. What's up? Got a hot date, or something?", he grinned.

"No, Agent Dogget, I don't. In fact, I haven't even had a mediocre date in...in...", she stopped and wrinkled her brow, as if trying to remember. "Well, in a while. No, I'm house-sitting this weekend, and I need to get some things from my place to take over there. I'll see you Monday."

"House-sitting? Who's house?"

She sighed, "My mother's, if it's any business of yours. She's out of town, there was a break-in down the street from her two weeks ago, and she doesn't want to leave the house alone. So, I volunteered to stay. Now, if you'll excuse me." She turned again towards the door.

"Uhm, okay, well, then if you're not busy, would you like to join me for dinner. It would be a good opportunity to sit down and get acquainted. I mean, we are partners now, and we should probably get to know a little bit about each other." He smiled engagingly.

Scully had frozen in place when he had suggested they eat out. Oh, no, this was the last thing she was expecting. Now, she had to let him down gently without raising any suspeicions. She slowly looked around, keeping her face neutral.

"Thank you, Agent Doggett, but I prefer just to stay at my mother's once it gets dark. The break-in that occurred in her neighborhood happened when the owners went to dinner. The DC police think it may be someone who is watching the comings and goings of the residents in order to find the best opportunity to go in. I promised my mother I wouldn't leave at night." She smiled slightly, tonight maybe a boring night alone, but tomorrow would be much, much more interesting.

"Well, okay, I understand. Would you like some company? I could always grab some take-out and come over to keep you company." He waited for her reaction to this proposition. If she turned him down, then he'd know she probably had a rendezvous set up with Mulder.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Agent Doggett. I think we need to keep on a purely professional basis. My focus, first and foremost right now, is finding Mulder. I need to concentrate on that. I'm sure you understand."

"It's just a meal, Agent Scully, I'm not asking you to go the prom. However, if you think it's best, fine. I can understand your reluctance. Someone might see us and get the wrong idea that we're socializing outside the office, something you'd never do, right?"

She felt a flush slowly creeping up her neck. "Right, Agent Doggett. No fraternizing outside the office. Now, if you'll excuse me." She hurried out of the office, hoping he hadn't seen her discomfort.

Doggett leaned back in his chair. Yep, something was up. Looks like she had a little weekend romp planned with the missing Agent Mulder. Well, he'd watch the house and tail the guy whenever he left. The last thing Doggett wanted to do was confront him in front of Scully. It would put her in an embarrassing position. He'd rather wait, and uncover where Mulder was hiding, then he'd confront him as to why he faked this disappearance.

The agent moved towards the computer and typed in Scully's name. He needed to get the address of her mother's house, then requisition a car. Might as well stop off at the store and get some stuff to snack on. It was gonna be a long weekend.

Friday night passed uneventfully. Scully made popcorn and curled up with Chris Buckley's "Little Green Men" and laughed the night away. Skinner let the regional bigwigs wine and dine him in Albany, but his mind kept wandering to a certain red-head waiting for him back in DC.

Doggett was probably the most uncomfortable. He had spent a cold night, slumped down in the front of seat of the Bureau fleet sedan, munching on pork rinds, Skittles, pimento cheese sandwiches and Coca-Cola from a 2-liter bottle.
He had only one moment of excitement, when a DC patrol car pulled up beside him and asked him what he was doing. He flashed his FBI id and said he was on stake-out. The cop ran a license plate check and when the answer came back that it was, indeed, an official car, he drove off after wishing Doggett luck. After that,the only break in the monotonous night was emptying the spare 2-liter bottle that he was using as an urinal, and watching the neighborhood dogs pee over the spot in the gutter over and over again.
Saturday dawned bright and cold. Doggett drove back to his house, deciding that if Mulder had not shown the night before, it was unlikely he would try to sneak in during the day. He'd catch up on his sleep, then resume watching the house that night.

Scully ran countless errands during the morning. She bought groceries thinking that Skinner would like a home-cooked meal after eating restaurant food. She was going to saute some chicken breasts, have a wine sauce to go over them, make a fresh spinach salad, and steam some asparagus. (Thank God for imported vegetables, but jeez they cost an arm and a leg.) She bought a good red wine and had it up in her bedroom, with two wine glasses, ready for a little after dinner treat. She had even decided a new negligee was in order, although how long it would stay on to be appreciated was questionable. She smiled to herself, thinking about what the night might hold in store.
She was getting some of the food preparation started when the phone rang.

"Hello?", she answered, "Scully residence."

"Hi," came the soft baritone voice.

"Hi, yourself," she said with a smile in her voice. "Are you already on your way? What time does your plane land? I can't wait to see you."

"Uh, Dana, what's the weather like there?"

This was NOT the response she expected. "It's beautiful here. Cold, but clear as a bell. Why?"

"The weather here is unbelievable. It's snowing like the gods have decided to bury upstate New York. They're canceling all flights. I've been at the airport since noon hoping to get on as stand-by, but no luck. And now, nothing's flying. I'm staying here so I can hopefully get the first flight in the morning. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was really looking forward to tonight." He sighed into the phone. He sounded so forlorn and lost.

"Oh, damn, Walter. I was planning such a nice evening. Something better than last time in that horrible motel. Well, what time do you think you'll be in tomorrow? Hello? Walter? Walter?" The phone had gone dead. She quickly redialed his cell phone number and got a recorded message saying that all circuits were busy and to try her call again later. Could the weather be interferring with the celluar phone signals?

She turned on the Weather Channel to try to get some kind of information. The storm blowing over New York was a doozy, not only interferring with communications, but power as well. Poor Walter. Hell, poor Dana. Now she was stuck with all this food, no one to feed it to, and nothing to look forward to. She put the chicken away, got the asparagus ready to cook later, and plopped down in front of the tv, surfing the channels till she could find some old movie to watch and cry over.

What a fun-filled Saturday night.

Skinner spent a sleepless night, staring out at the blowing snow through the big plate-glass windows of the airport. Why, today of all days, did it have to come such a major storm? Lake-front effect, the Weather Channel had called it, just before the tv monitors blinked off.

He sighed and pulled the small velvet box out of his jacket pocket. He opened it to reveal a platinum ring. Not exactly an engagement ring, more like a token. It had a channel running down the middle of the ring; in the channel were five small white diamonds. The jeweler said the total weight of the diamonds was two-and-a-half carats. The stones didn't look that big, but they flashed with such fire that he knew it was what he wanted. He had paid big bucks to get the engraving done in time. On the inside of the band was one word, "Beloved". He had planned to give it to her tonight, but Mother Nature had other ideas. He closed the box softly, put it back in his pocket, and sighed again as the snow continued to fall.

What a wonderful Saturday night.

Doggett, in the meantime, sat in his sedan, listening to country music, munching on carrots and celery, (if he never saw another pork rind he'd be a happy man) and wondering if maybe he was wasting his time. He shook his head. No, she was hiding something, it had to be about Mulder. What else could it be? He'd gone over everything in the X-Files, looking for clues to Mulder's possible whereabouts. He knew he was going to have to go to North Carolina to interview the doctors who had been treating Mulder. Maybe they had given him no more hope, and he had asked about alternative treatments. They might know something about where he would have sought such treatment. Doggett would also be sure to ask if Mulder had ever been accompanied by a pretty red-haired woman. As a doctor, she would know the right questions to ask and would steer him away from the more unorthodox.

He yawned and switched the radio to a heavy metal station. The country music was bringing him down, he had no beer to cry into, and he needed something to keep him awake. After trying to decipher the words to a new release by someone called "unloco" he gave up. It was 4:30 a.m. If Mulder was coming, he'd have shown up by now. He started his car, moved slowly into the street and drove carefully home.
What a way to spend Saturday night.

**********

Monday morning did not find very many happy, rested faces. Skinner was surlier than ever. He had finally gotten into Washington's Dulles airport about 1:30. He was tired, hungry, rumpled, and stiff from trying to sleep on a row of hard plastic chairs. The flight had been crowded, the passengers unfriendly. He had called Scully, apologized again, and said he'd see her at the office on Monday. Just then, he wanted nothing more to shower and go to bed.

Scully stayed at her mother's until Margaret Scully came home. She prepared the chicken for their supper, then listened idly while her mother recounted her visit with her old college roommate. After about a hundred "Oh, really" and "That's nice", Mrs. Scully shooed her daughter on home. That girl was so distracted with thoughts of Walter Skinner that she didn't make very good company.

So, when on that Monday morning when Doggett came whistling into the basement office, he was not met with the cheeriest of greetings. He had spent a boring, cramped, cold weekend on a useless stake-out, but now he had a plan of action in his search for Mulder and he was in a good mood. Too bad he couldn't package it and give it to his partner. Although, she probably would have thrown it back into his face.

Dear Kate:

Got your last e-mail. Thanks for the suggestions on what to get Dana for Christmas. I guess you're right, a crib and baby furniture may not be the best ideas. Although, I would have thought something practical like that would be appreciated. But I guess a pregnant woman would rather something more personal. I think a day at a spa would be something she'd like. I guess a day getting petted and pampered, slathered with mud and massaged may be just what she needs to get her out of the doldrums.

The search of Mulder isn't going well. She's constantly checking with a group of computer hacks who are friends of Mulder. They keep her up to date with all the different sightings of UFO's around the country. I know that seems far-fetched, a person getting abducted by aliens, and I probably wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. It was something I'll never forget, Kate. It was magnificent and frightening all at the same time.

I just hope we can find him soon. All this worry has not been good for her. She's been hospitalized a couple of times, and I know a lot of it has to do with the stress. Her partner, John Doggett, is a definite non-believer and she feels she has to prove to him that paranormal phenomena is not something he should take lightly. Plus, trying to keep her pregnancy a secret is an extra burden she's carrying. I think it would easier on her if she told him, but she says she doesn't trust him. She's afraid he's trying to get her removed from the X-Files.

I know what you're gonna ask: do I think that's what he's trying to do. I don't think so, Kate. He seems like an honorable man who's trying to do his job. But right now, she won't listen to me. Of course, if she ever found out that he suspects that Mulder staged this whole thing and that she's involved, she'd have his head on a silver platter.

You asked if she liked the ring. Oh, man. Did she ever. You would have thought I had bought her the crown jewels of England. She, naturally, accused me of spending too much money for it, but I could tell she was thrilled. I just wish she could wear it all the time.

I'll keep you up with what's going on as soon as I know. Hopefully, it won't be much longer. Give my love to the rest of the outlaws.

Walter

*************
Dear Kate:

Got you're e-mail this afternoon. Thanks so much for the suggestions for Walter's Christmas gift. I agree that he'd prefer something practical, although I don't know why you think he wouldn't enjoy a day at a spa. Lots of men like getting pampered like that. But, I guess he would be perfectly miserable and make sure everyone around him *knew* he was miserable. lol

How's the new grandbaby? I'm hoping we can get out to see you all soon, although with the work is going, I have no idea when that will be. I've been spending a lot of time in the field, and while my new partner is a good investigator, the types of cases we get are something beyond his range of experience. He seems like a nice enough man, but I don't think he trusts me. I feel he's constantly watching me, waiting for me to make some mistake so he can file a report and get me removed. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Or maybe that's how Mulder felt about me when we first started working together.

My search for Mulder continues, but with little luck. I've decided what I need to do is talk to a young man who may have some knowledge of how to find him. Unfortunately, the young man, who's name is Gibson Praise, has been placed in protective custody, and no one is allowed to know where they're keeping him. I really wish I could find him, he might give me just the leads I need to find Mulder. Then, Kate, I could finally feel at peace, knowing I had done everything I could to get him back. He had, has always been there when I needed his help, and I want to do the same for him.

Kate, I wish you could see the ring Walter gave me. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. He looked so pleased with himself when he slipped it on my finger, like he was giving me the Hope Diamond. Your brother is someone very special, in case you didn't know. He likes to pretend he's rock-hard and tough, that nothing touches him. But we know different, don't we?

The pregnancy is going as well as can be expected, I guess. I've had some bleeding and a little cramping. I'm trying to take it easy, and Walter watches me like a hawk, but trying to keep it a secret is a strain. I wish I could be like other women who find out they're pregnant and can shout it from the roof-tops. I'm so thrilled, but I can't say anything, because then the thing that I've prayed for will become the thing that ruins my career and any hope of find my partner. Why can't life ever be simple?

Sorry for turning so maudlin, Kate. Another product of pregnancy, mood swings from hell. Pity poor Walter. lol
I'll let you know how things are going as soon as I know anything. I guess Walter and I are as much in the dark as anyone.

Love,
Dana

John Doggett rubbed his face and settled back into his chair in the basement office. Okay, technically it wasn't *his* chair, as Agent Scully was always quick to point out. But it was the one behind the desk, and he had to have some place to sit.

He had just gotten off the phone with an old friend from New Orleans. He had called her hoping she might be able to come up with more names of clinics that offered unconventional treatment for diseases that defied standard medical care. Special Agent Monica Reyes had been surprised by his call, they had not spoken in several years. Not for any reason other than the normal flow of life has a tendency to let people drift away from each other. They had worked closely together on a case of extreme personal interest to Doggett, one with a tragic outcome.

"John Doggett?", she had asked several times. "I don't believe it. How are you, John? How's things up there with the big boys? Ready to take over as Director?"

"Nah, not yet, Monica," he said, "still undecided if I want to be Director of the FBI, or Assistant Manager at K-Mart. Right now, that assistant manager's job is looking mighty tempting." He smiled as he heard her chuckle on the other end of the line.

"What can I do for you, John? I know this isn't a social call to wish me happy holidays. What's up? Got a good ritual murder you need investigated?" She was opening another pack of Juicy Fruit gum, trying to control the craving for a cigarette. She'd had one ten minutes ago, but was ready for another. She popped two sticks into her mouth and worked her jaws vigorously to get them to the proper
chewing consistency.

"Monica, I was wondering if you knew of any places down there, or maybe somewhere else along the Gulf Coast that might offer alternative medical treatments."

"What's the problem, John, are you sick?" She sat up straight in her chair, concern creasing her forehead.

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm searching for a missing agent, one that conveniently disappeared after being diagnosed with a neurological disorder. I think he may have faked his disappearance in order to seek treatment outside of the norm. He might have even gone off-shore. If you can give me the names of a few places, I can canvass them to see if he may have sought their help."

"Who is this guy, John? And do you think he'd be desperate enough to go that route?"

"His name is Fox Mulder, and yes, I do. He's kind of a nut, believes in paranormal phenomenon, UFO's, little green men, the whole nine yards. So, I wouldn't put it past him to try something like this. The problem is he may have talked his partner into helping him out, a nice woman named Dana Scully. I don't think either of them has thought out all the reprecussions to her involvement. I've been assigned to find him, but I want to make sure she's protected from any kind of possible disciplinary action."

"Fox Mulder?", Agent Reyes asked. "I've heard of him. Doesn't he head a unit called the X-Files? He's renowned in the field of extra-terrestrial and UFO sightings. I'm sorry to hear he's sick." She started flipping through her Rolodex. "You know, there might be a place down here where he'd visit. It's a little extreme in it's treatment plans, which may be just what he's looking for. Let me make some contacts and I'll get back with you. Give me a couple of days, okay? These people are not exactly open to involvment with law-enforcement types."

"Great, Monica, call me when you find out something. I really appreciate it." He started to hang up when he heard her call his name.

"How are YOU doing, John? I know this is a tough time of year....."

He cut her off, "Fine, Monica, I'm fine. I talk to you in a couple of days" and hung up on her before she could continue.

Yes, it was a tough time of year, very tough. And he didn't need anyone to remind him.


Dana Scully, agent of the FBI, walked into the lobby of the Omni Hotel in New York City, carrying a small blue suitcase. She didn't stop at the desk, she knew the room number. She stood in front of the bank of elevators, waiting for one to take her to the 21st floor. When she got off the elevator, she turned to the left and went down the hall to room 2135.

She knocked softly and was not surprised to find the door opened immediately. A pair of strong arms grabbed her and pulled her into the room, she dropped the suitcase and wrapped her own arms around the trim waist of the big man who was kissing her.

She pulled back and grinned, "A.D. Skinner, you act like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver. At least let me get all the way into the room."

"I'm sorry, I've just been so anxious and when I thought you weren't coming....I guess I'm just very glad to see you." He let go of her and helped her take off her all-weather trench coat.

She was wearing a navy-blue pantsuit with a pale green blouse. After moving her suitcase to a chair placed near a small round dining table, she stretched out her arms, inviting him close for a hug. He squeezed her tightly, lifting her slightly from her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering to him that she loved him. They stood like that for a few moments, enjoying the closeness they were so seldom allowed to share.

Finally, he stepped back, and taking her hand, led her to the small loveseat near the big window looking out on the street below. Snow was softly falling, muffling the sounds of the traffic. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, cradling her. He cupped her face in one of his big hands, and slowly started kissing her lips. She sighed with the pleasure of knowing they had two whole days together. She returned his kiss, stroking his face, the ring on her right hand flashing in the soft lights of the room.

He caught her hand and kissed the palm, then removed the ring and put it on her left ring finger. "For this weekend, it belongs here, for the whole world to see." She smiled her acceptance, and they sat together, grateful for this stolen time.

"Are you hungry?", he asked, stroking her arm. "Would you like some wine? I had room service send up a bottle, and I think there's some kind of bread assortment with cheeses. I don't know exactly, I haven't looked. I wanted to wait for you."

"I'd like some wine," she whispered, "but I'm not hungry right now. At least, not for food." She reached over and clicked off the lamp standing next to the table. Then she stood and started to slowly remove her suit jacket. She stood in front of the window of the dark room, backlit by the lights from outside. His breath caught in his throat as she unbuttoned her blouse and removed it. Next came the pants along with the tights she had on for warmth. She was standing in front of him, barely covered by the small delicate underwear she had on.

"Your turn, Walter."

He stood and started opening the buttons of his shirt. She moved his hands and took over the job. Once the buttons were undone, she slid the shirt off his broad shoulders, then slowly moved his tee shirt up his chest and over his head. Next, she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, kneeling as she helped him step out of them. He reached down and took her by her elbows, lifting her to her feet. They both stood there for a moment, until he reached out and undid the front closure of her bra. She shrugged it off as he closed his hand over her breast. She closed her eyes as his mouth found its fullness and she gasped with pleasure as he teased her nipple with his tongue.

The passion was mounting in her until she thought she was going to explode. She wanted the release now, but also wanted to wait till he was ready, too. She wasn't sure she could hold out much longer, his touch was driving her closer and closer. Even the weather was joining in to add to the excitement. The flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder only added....lightning?....thunder?

The lightning must have hit close to her apartment because the thunder sounded at almost the same moment. Scully sat up quickly in her bed...*her* bed, and looked out the window. Rain was splattering against the glass, the wind blowing harder as a mild cold front moved into the Washington area. She lay back against the pillows, breathing rapidly. The arousal she had felt in the dream slowly dissipated, leaving her feeling bereft and lonely.
Since the pregnancy she had started having all kinds of dreams. Vivid, real, colorful dreams. Very occasionally she would dream of the baby, feeling the love and tenderness she knew she would experience after its birth. Sometimes the dreams were of Mulder, sad, horrible dreams of him being tortured and calling out to her. Her frustration at not being able to rescue him from whoever held him captive would cause her to lie awake, hoping somewhere in the dream there was clue as to how to help him.

And sometimes the dreams were like the one she had just had. Erotic and wild, tender and loving, so real she could feel Walter's hands on her body, taste his kisses. Occasionally she would actually reach climax, and would awaken, panting from the exertion and feeling a little guilty. That good old religious training could sometimes rear its ugly head at the most inopportune times. She would usually just roll over, pound the pillow as if it were the reason she was alone, and go back to sleep.

But not tonight. She rolled to the edge of the bed, sat up and put her slippers on. The room was chilly and she quickly slipped on her terrycloth bathrobe. Her feet made slapping sounds as she went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen were she made herself a cup of tea. The caffeine would doom any hope of getting back to sleep, but that was all right. She didn't want to sleep anymore.

She took her mug back into the living room, snapped on a lamp and sat down on the sofa. She reached for the cordless phone and dialled a familiar number.
After four rings, a sleepy voice answered. "Hello?...ahem....hello?"

"Hi, it's me."

"What's wrong," the voice was instantly awake. "Is everything okay? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I...I just want to come over and talk. Can I? Please?"

"The weather is terrible. It'd be better if you stayed there and come over after the sun's up...."

"Please?"

"Okay, just..just be careful. Take your time and make sure your doors. I'll be waiting by the door to let you in."

"Okay, thanks."

She dressed quickly and warmly, and drove slowly through the deserted streets. The wind had died down, and the rain was letting up, but the streets were slick. She reached her destination and parked the car, then, using a black silk umbrella given to her by her mother, she went to the door and knocked. It was opened almost immediately.

"Agent Scully, what are you thinking coming out on a night like this. Get in here. Good grief, what would A.D. Skinner think if he knew we let you come over. Now, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Byers, don't worry about Walter, he's in New York. <Damn it> He won't check on me until later. I just...I just feel like talking to someone. We're not any closer to finding Mulder and I'm beginning to feel like maybe we never will." She sighed and went to sit on the battered sofa. She had to move several copies of "The Lone Gunman" in order to make room for the two of them.

"I know it's an ungodly time to want information, but I was hoping maybe you had found something, anything." She looked into his kind face, hoping to see the look of excitement that would indicate he and his companions had uncovered a clue. Instead, she only saw sadness, and a little shame that he couldn't give her good news.

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully."


Scully closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the worn leather sofa. She sighed deeply, and shook her head slightly.

"I don't know what I'm doing, coming here in the middle of the night. I guess maybe I was hoping you heard from your sources," she muttered. "I'm sorry for waking you, Byers. I..I'm going to go home and let you get some sleep." She stood and moved towards the door.

Byers stepped in front of her, "No, Agent Scully, the weather is still too bad, just stay here. Stretch out on the sofa if you want, but I don't think you should leave."

He took her arm and led her back to the sofa.
He went to a closet, opened the door cautiously, and reached in for a tattered thermal blanket and a dingy pillow. He handed them to her, and she lay down on the sofa. The pillow smelled of sweat, and the blanket, which may have been white at one time, had a large brown stain along one satin-trimmed edge.

"Coffee," Byers said as he saw her eye the stain with some suspicion.

"Oh, well, thanks, Byers. Good night," and she closed her eyes. He clicked off the floor lamp and walked slowly back to the bedrooms used by the three of them. He was met in the hall by Langly and Frohike.

"What's up?", asked Langly. "Who's here? What do they want? Have we been busted?"

"Shhhh," cautioned Byers. "It's Agent Scully. She's a little down. The search isn't progressing, and I think she's getting discouraged."

"Poor kid," said Frohike. "I wish we had something to tell her, but trying to find a kid in protective custody is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There's no way that the government boys are going to let any kind of information leak out. That kid is too valuable."

"Well, we still haven't heard from our, um, own personal Mata Hari," said Byers as he tried to go back to his room. "If anybody can find out where the boy is being kept, it's Yves. She has more contacts than Bausch and Lomb."

"OOoooo, Byers, that stunk. Please, don't make any more puns," Langly groaned. He, too headed back to his cramped little bedroom, "Give her some more time, she's only been trying for a couple of days."

"Yeah, well, there's no guarantee she's gonna come up with anything. And if she does, she'll want to extract some huge favor from us. I'm willing to do anything she wants, just to save you guys the aggravation," Frohike smirked, smoothing back his thinning hair.

"Yeah, right," laughed Langly. "Go back to dreamland, Frohike, that's the only place you'll ever get her."

The three separated and went to their own rooms. "Yves" was their erstwhile associate. She had dropped into their lives with a wealth of information and the ability to get more. The relationship was symbiotic, she fed them information, which they released through their newspaper, and they gave her...well, they weren't sure what she got out of it. But they didn't bother to ask.

They had asked her to see if she could find out where Gibson Praise was being hidden. Scully had decided that the young man could give them some information that would lead them to Mulder. Or at least help put some life back into the search. Right now, it seemed to be at a standstill, which was both frustrating and discouraging. Yves had not contacted them at all since receiving their request. Either she was still looking, or had given up the job as hopeless.


The following morning dawned clear, cool and bright. The sun sparkled on the rain-soaked branches of the leafless trees. None of this could be seen, though, inside the windowless warehouse occupied by the Lone Gunmen. The three of them moved quietly around their work areas, not wanting to wake the sleeping agent on their sofa. Finally, though, the incessant ringing of a cell phone broke the hush. Byers reached into the pocket of Scully's coat, which was draped over the back of a tall office chair.

"Hello?", he said quietly. Scully roused up and shook her hair from her eyes. She blinked at the men standing around the table.

"Who is this?", came the gruff voice on the other end of the connection.

"John Byers, A.D. Skinner. Uh, how are you?"

"Where's Dana? Why do you have her phone? Is she all right? Is she in the hospital? Tell me, damn it, what's going on?" Skinner's voice was rising with each question.

"Uh, she's right here, sir, just a moment and let me hand her the phone." He practically shoved the phone into Scully's outstretched hand.

"Walter? It's me. No, no, I'm okay. I just came over here last night to see them and the weather got bad so I stayed." She looked meaningfully at the three men. They had better go along with her story if they knew what was good for them.

"No, honestly, Walter, everything's fine. No, I wouldn't lie to you. Yes, yes, I know how much you worry. I'm not going to do anything dangerous. I promised, didn't I? I don't usually go back on my promises. Okay, yes, uh-huh, all right. I'll talk to you later. You're still coming home day after tomorrow, right? Okay, see you then. I love you, Walter. I miss you. Bye." She clicked the connection closed, and folded her phone. She was smiling slightly, the pleasure of hearing his voice making her feel a little better.

The Gunmen had been watching her closely, but when she looked up they all found somewhere else to look.

"He says thanks for letting me stay. Remember, guys, I came over early and stayed because of the weather. If he thought I was driving around in bad weather he'd have a cow. Got it?"

The three all nodded their heads in agreement. Just then, their own phone rang, and Langly went to answer it.

"Lone Gunmen. Yes. Yes. You're sure? Okay, okay, sorry I asked. No, of course I don't doubt you. All right, I'll tell them. Yeah, you can extract your pound of flesh later, Cleo. Thanks." He hung up the phone and turned back to the others.

"That was Yves. She's located Gibson."


Six hours later the four were on a commercial airplane flying to Boise, Idaho. From there, they would take another plane to Spokane, Washington; then, after allowing Scully to rest overnight, they'd rent a car and drive to Oroville, Washington, on the Okanagan River.

As they flew over the flat plains of the midwest, Scully thought back to her phone conversation with Skinner. She had called him as soon as she and the Gunmen had finalized travel plans. Needless to say, he wasn't thrilled with her leaving town on what could ultimately be a wild-goose chase.

"How accurate is your information?", he had asked. "Are you sure the boy is out there? Can you trust your sources?"

"The Gunmen assure me that their associate's information is usually very reliable," she in turn assured him. "I want to go out there and check for myself, Walter. If it is Gibson Praise, maybe he can give us some idea as to where to search. Right now, everything is so hit-or-miss. He might at least give us a starting point. Something."

Skinner knew how much the lack of information galled her. She had expressed her frustrations many times to him. She felt that no one was making any real effort, instead they were only going through the motions. She wanted to find Mulder; HE wanted Mulder to be found. Their lives were on hold until something happened.

He sighed noisily into the phone. "I just wish you were going with someone else other than those three clowns. Why not take Agent Doggett? He's supposed to be leading the search. Where is he?"

"I tried reaching him, but I think he's out of town. The person getting us the information is a friend of the Gunmen and will probably be more open to sharing if they're along. They'll watch out for me, they're scared to death of you,"
she chuckled. "I'll be fine. I promise not to do anything that will put me in any danger. I'm just going out there to talk to Gibson, if it really is him."

"Let me talk to one of those idiots," he growled. She handed the phone to Frohike.

"Yeah-ellow," said Frohike, smiling broadly. His smile slowly faded.

"Listen, Melvin, you watch out for her. Nothing and I mean NOTHING had better happen, or so help me God, I'll find you three and I'll rip your heads off and shit down your necks. She's not to get tired, make sure she eats regularly, if anything...ANYTHING out of the ordinary occurs, you call me immediately. I'm putting her in your hands, if you screw this up, you might as well kiss any future you had planned good-bye. Do you understand me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I...we will do as ordered. Sir." He turned to the other two and smiled tightly.

"I'm not joking around, Frohike."

"I am quite aware of that," he continued to smile. Grimace would actually be a more accurate description.

"Give her the phone back," came the terse order. Frohike handed the phone off as quickly as he could.

As Scully took the phone and turned away from them to have a private moment, the other two men pulled Frohike towards the other side of the room.

"What did he say?", asked Langly. "Is he upset?"

"Have you ever seen that man when he's not upset?" Frohike shook his head, "He needs a good colonic cleaning. He basically said if something happens to her, the last issue of "The Lone Gunman" will contain our obituaries."


By the time their flight landed in Spokane, Scully was exhausted. Her restless night and the long trip had taken a lot out of her. After checking into a small motel, she bid the Gunmen good night and went to her room. She quickly go ready for bed and was soon snuggled under a thin blanket and bedspread. Realizing this cover might not be enough, she got back out of bed, went to the heating unit under the plate glass window at the front of her room, and raised the control to increase the heat. Nothing. The unit was humming but the air issuing from it did not get any warmer.

"Oh, hell!", she muttered. She was in Washington state, in December, and even though the man at the front desk had mentioned how warm the weather was for this time of year, it was still 25 degrees outside and she suspected that the room temperature would soon be down to that. She did not relish the thought of sleeping fully clothed because she knew she would not get an rest. Nor did she want to have to try and get another room with a working heater.

She put her robe on over her flannel pajamas, then on top of that put on her heavy woolen coat. She was wearing thick woolen socks which made it a little difficult to put on her floppy bedroom slippers. Pulling a scarf over her head, she scurried out her room and to the one next door. She pounded on the door and could see the curtains twitch as one of the men checked out who was making the noise. She could hear the chain being removed, and the deadbolts turned. As soon as Langly opened the door she rushed in.

"What? What's wrong?", asked Langly as he stumbled over a chair he has standing next to. They had obviously jammed the chair under the doorknob for extra security.

The room was blissfully warm. Scully took off her coat and scarf, kicked off her slippers and dove into on of the two beds in the room. Byers just happened to be sitting there. He quickly jumped up. "Agent Scully!!"

"It's freezing in my room," she said as she wriggled into the mattress, trying to warm up a spot so she could extend her legs. "Ooohh, it feels so good in here. Look, guys, I'm too tired to change rooms, it's only for one night, and I think...I KNOW I can trust you all not to take advantage of poor litle me, so if it's okay, I'll just stay in here. And remember, I've got my gun."

Frohike, who had been struggling to open up a roll-away bed, sputtered, "But...that means two of us will have to sleep on the same bed. Sorry, I love these guys, but ain't no way I'm sharing a sack with either of them." He crossed his arms and looked at her defiantly.

"Well, YOU certainly are not sleeping with me," she warned him. She looked at the other two, sizing them up as potential bedmates. "Langly, you can sleep here, Byers is already got claims on that bed. Now, if you guys will excuse, I'm tired to my very bones. See you in the morning." And saying that, she rolled over, facing away from the three men gaping at her. Within seconds her breathing had become soft and regular.

"I..I..why me?", whined Langly. "Skinner will not do nice things to me if he finds out I slept with his woman. Byers, come on, you sleep with her. Or let me sleep with you."

"Oh, no, she chose you, for whatever reason. I'm not about to go against an armed federal agent's wishes. And you know Frohike is out of the question. And I'm not sleeping with him either. His hands wander." Byers shuttered slightly.

"Hey," Frohike said indignantly, "I can't help it if they sleep walk on their own. Nope, Langly, you are the intended victim, so shut up and lie down. We've got a long trip ahead of us tomorrow."

Frohike finished arranging the roll-away, and crawled exhausted into the small bed. Byers turned off his bedside light, plunging the room into darkness, the only light coming through the closed curtains. Langly stood undecided as to what to do. Finally, he slowly slipped between the sheets, lying flat on his back, arms straight down at his side. He didn't even remove his glasses, preferring to keep them on in case she decided to roll over next to him. That way he could at least see a way to escape any inadvertent contact. He finally fell asleep, but dreamed all night of what innovative tortures Skinner would put him through if he ever found out about the sleeping arrangements.

Scully woke up to the soft grunts and whistles, snores and sighs of her three temporary roommates. Langly was stretched out on his side of the bed, looking for all the world like a badly prepared corpse. His face twitched and he whimpered in his sleep, as if he were being beaten by a much bigger opponent.

She grabbed her robe and overcoat, and slipped out the door. The day was dawning bright and absolutely beautiful. The temperature was absolutely freezing, but the sky was clear and there was no sign of any bad weather. She went quickly to her own room to shower and pack. She opened the door and was immediately overwhelmed by the heat in the room. The heating unit must have finally kicked in, the room had to be at least 90 degrees. She rushed over and turned the thing off, and sighed deeply. She could have stayed in here after all. Oh, well, too late now. She gathered her underclothes and went to take a shower. No fear of stepping out of a warm shower into an icebox, the room was almost like a sauna.

After she dressed and put on her make-up, she called Skinner to let him know of their plans for the day. She promised to call him as soon as they had located Gibson. At least she hoped it was the boy. She packed her things and took her small suitcase out to the rental car. Then she went to make sure the boys were up and getting ready to leave. It was going to be a long trip, and she wanted to get on the road as soon as possible.

The three men were all ready up and packed when she got to their room. They loaded their bags, turned in their keys and, after eating the free continental breakfast, the four climbed into the sedan and took off for extreme northern Washington.

According to the information given the Gunmen by Yves, Oroville was a small town near the Canadian border. It was located where the Similkameen and Okanagan Rivers met, on a finger of plains that rested between the Cascade Mountains and the Rockies. If the government was going to isolate an individual and keep him safe, this would be the place.

Yves also reported that the boy she believed to be Gibson was going to public school in Oroville and helped out at one of the local fishing resorts on the shore of the Lake Okanagan. If they were going to try to talk to him, it would have to be at the resort. He was not restricted in his activities, that would have only make him stand out, but his guardians were vigilant in knowing his whereabouts at all times. And any strangers taking an untoward interest in him might make them keep the boy closer to home.

After a long 8-hour drive, the result of frequent bathroom stops for Scully, they finally arrived in Oroville. They checked into the Chief Joseph Resort and Fishing Lodge and went to their rooms. Scully took her time going to hers, she was looking around for the boy, hoping to see him. She thought she saw him, cleaning fishing tackle on a boat ramp about a hundred yards away, but the young man didn't turn around. She decided to try calling to him with her mind, knowing if it was indeed him, he'd probably respond.

"GIBSON!", she broadcast mentall. "It's me, Dana Scully, from the FBI. I need to talk to you. Please try and contact me." She thought she saw the boy on the ramp hesitate a moment, but at this distance she couldn't be sure. She went to here room, hoping that if it was him, he'd follow her.

An hour later, after resting in her room, she began to think that she was mistaken. Maybe this Yves person was wrong, too. Maybe this was all a wild goose chase as Skinner kept calling it. She brushed her hair and went dejectedly down to the dining room to meet her fellow travelers. After sitting down and ordering her meal, she sat staring at the flickering hurricane lamp on the table. She moved her elbow when the busboy came to fill her water glass.

"Hi," said the young man, his voice cracking with the onset of puberty, "my name's Hoot, and I'll be your busboy. If you need anything, more water, bread, whatever, just let me know."

Scully started to thank the busboy when she looked up, right into the eyes of Gibson Praise.


"Oh my God!", Scully muttered, "Gib...." She stopped when he shook his head slightly. "Uh, thank you, uh, Hoot." The boy went to fill the glasses of the three men, Scully watching him intently. He moved on to the next table and repeated his actions.

"Scully," whispered Frohike, nodding in the direction of Gibson's back, "isn't that....?"

"Yes, now be quiet," she whispered back.

"*Hoot* Gibson. I wonder if the kid even gets the joke," said Frohike.

"Probably not," said Langly attacking his salad as soon as the waiter put it in front of him. "Not many young people watch old Westerns anymore, and those are some really old movies. Hoot Gibson was even before Roy Rogers."

The four ate their food with appreciation. All of them had ordered fish, and it was fresh and well-prepared. Gibson had been back and forth to their table, refilling glasses, bringing more bread, and supplying Langly with more silverware after he dropped his on the floor. Soon they sat back, feeling full and content. Byers and Frohike ordered desserts, while Langly polished off the last of the bread.

When Gibson came back to start clearing their table, he asked Scully, "Do you like to fish, ma'am? If you do, I can take you down to the fishing pier and you can try your luck. The lake hasn't frozen up like it usually does this time of year, and you might be able to catch something. Wanna try it?"

"Uh, yes, yes, Hoot, I do. What would be a good time to meet you?" She had been trying to come up with a plan to meet him, and here he had thought of the perfect one himself.

"How about 10:30? I'll meet you at the boat ramp with the fishing gear and we can walk to the pier. It's just a little way down from the lodge, not far for you to walk. You should be okay."

Scully wrinkled her forehead at his comment. Then, she realized he had been reading her thoughts and knew about her pregnancy. She was touched by his consideration.

"Ten-thirty will be fine. Would any of you guys want to join me?" She wasn't really expecting any takers, and was surprised when Byers spoke up.

"Yes, I'd like to go, if it's all right. I'm an old hand at fishing off the side of a lake. That is, if you don't mind, Hoot?"

The boy looked steadily at Byers, then nodded his head. "Sure, you can come if you want. I'll make sure there's plenty of gear. Hey," he turned to Langly, "there's a music store in town that has old "Ramones" albums, vinyls, not cd's, if you're interested. I'll tell you where it's at. You might take the old guy with you, keep him out of trouble. There's no adult bookstores here and you don't want to get on the bad side of the local sheriff. For someone as old as you, you're very nasty."

Frohike scowled at the boy. "What makes you think

I'm.....?" He stopped short. "Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."

"Besides," continued Gibson, "she's only 19 and has a boyfriend who plays professional hockey. She wouldn't do what you're thinking, and he'd rip you in half if you tried."

Frohike quickly averted his eyes from the young blonde waitress who had been serving at the next table. "Thanks for the heads up, kid. I owe ya."

After confirming again the time and location of their meeting the next day, the Gunmen and Scully left the dining room. For the first in weeks she felt almost light-hearted. Now that she had found Gibson, maybe things would start moving forward. Now, at last, maybe they would be able to find Mulder.

John Doggett drove slowly across the Canadian-US border. He had picked up his weapon from the US Customs agent who had kept it for him while he visited the small town of Osoyoos, Britsh Columbia. He was feeling particulary discouraged, realizing he had been chasing another dead-end. He had been extremely hopeful after Agent Monica Reyes had called him with the name of this clinic.

The *doctor* had moved from Abbeville, Louisiana, to here to "escape the persecution by the AMA" as the good doctor had told Doggett. This particular doctor specialized in the neurologic and muscular diseases. He preyed on hapless victims, promising them relief from their illnesses through unorthodox treatments. Doggett had grown increasingly upset when he realized alot of the patients had spinal cord injuries and were probably forsaking standard treatment for the miracles promised by this quack. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to put the man in handcuffs and drag him back across the border for prosecution. But, because he was basically a civilian in Canada, there was nothing he could do. And the doctor knew it, too.
So he had maintained his control in order to get the information he needed. After extensive questioning, he realized that Mulder had not ever been to the clinic. Nor had the doctor treated him while in Louisiana. And no, the doctor did not know of any other place that would Mulder might go to, if he was indeed searching for a cure. Another blank wall.

As he drove through the little town on the American side,
he slowed in order to let two men pass in front of him. One was tall, lanky, with long blonde hair. The other was short, definitely not young, and seedy-looking. For some reason, their appearance rang a bell in Dogget's mind. Where had he seen those two before? In a picture, maybe? A wanted poster, perhaps? The thought kept niggling in the back of his mind till he finally turned into an angle-parking space in front of a hardware store and got out. He looked back down the street and spotted the two men going into a music store.

The bell over the door jingled as he opened it. The two men were moving down between the bins of albums, stopping every few feet and checking out the merchandise. He eyed them carefully as they continued to move away from him. When they stopped and started flipping through a stack of albums, he moved up behind them, stuck his arm between them and flashed his id.

"Could I see some identification, please?", he asked softly. The younger man let out a high pitched yelp, and the older man jumped back.

"Agent Doggett? What are you doing here?", he asked.

"How do you know my name?", demanded Doggett.

"Uh, it's on your badge," said Frohike, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

"You read my name that quickly." Doggett didn't believe him.

"Uh, yeah, I'm a speed reader," smiled the little man.

"Are you following Agent Scully?", asked Langly, his hand on his chest, trying to slow his heart rate.

"Agent Scully's here?", asked Doggett as he stepped back from the two.

"Langly! For God's sake, keep your mouth shut!", said Frohike. He grimaced and shook his head.

"All right, boys, let's go outside where you can tell me everything. Or else I'll arrest you for shoplifting." He waited until the two started towards the door, then followed them on out.

"Langly, she's gonna shoot you for sure, now."


Scully and Byers had met Gibson, she was still having a hard time calling him that ridiculous nickname, at the boat ramp. It was freezing and they were both bundled in as many clothes as they could wear and still be able to move. Gibson handed them their poles as he carried the tackle box, then he led them towards a long fishing pier that stretched out over the lake. Because of the unseasonable fluctuations in the temperature, the lake had very little ice along the edges.

The wind was light, but as they went farther out on the pier the temperature seemed to plummet. There were a few other die-hard fishermen braving the cold, trying to catch something anything. Scully suspected all they were going to haul in was wet line. What fish would be stupid enough to hang around in frigid water, waiting to get caught. They might as well fish inside a freezer. Images of these guys reeling in boxes of Gorton's Fish Sticks popped into her head, and Gibson laughed.

They reached a spot towards the end of the pier where no one else was standing. Gibson took off his gloves, quickly attached lures to their lines and told them the best place to cast out to. Byers and Scully attempted to throw out their lines, but wearing gloves made it somewhat difficult. Byers finally got his out, but Scully just dropped her line over the railing to the water below. She wasn't out here to fish, anyway.

"How do you like it here, Gib...Hoot?", she asked. "Do you like the school? Do you have any friends? Are they treating you okay?" She was trying to keep her thoughts on him until he felt ready to answer her other, more difficult questions.

"It's okay, I like it fine. It's very cold here, though. Nothing like the Philippines, of course. Yeah, I go to school, right now we're on winter break. I have a couple of friends, but it's difficult. They don't know I can read their thoughts, or else they'd probably desert me too, and I be even more of an outsider. Right now, everybody just thinks I'm some kind of nerd."

"It's pretty isolated up here. That must make it a little easier, not having so many people around to have to block what they're thinking." She reeled in her line and tried casting again, with a little more success this time. Byers was a couple of feet away, intensely casting and reeling, casting and reeling.

"Yeah, that's true. And we have a satellite dish, so I can pretty much block out everybody with that."

"Still watching cartoons?", she smiled, remembering how much he had enjoyed discovering all the different shows that were unavailable where he had lived in the Philippines.

"Nah," he smiled, "Sci-Fi channel. Although, most of those shows have it so completely wrong. About the aliens." He bounced on his toes, trying to keep warm. "Why don't you just go ahead and ask me, Miss Scully. We can get this over a lot faster and go back to the lodge."

"Sorry, Gib...", she sighed, "I'm sorry. You remember my partner, right?" He nodded to show that he did. "Well, he was abducted a few months back. And I was thinking...hoping, actually, that you might have any...idea as to how we might be able to...to track him, or find him...I don't know, sweetie. I'm...I'm just at a loss as to what else to do."

Gibson looked out over the water, trying to sort her words from the pleas that she was actually thinking. He all ready knew about her pregnancy, her intense love of the man in her life, her guilt at what she felt was her abandonment of Mulder for this other man, and her desperation to find Mulder.

"Miss Scully, I don't know anything about where Agent Mulder is. I can read someone's thoughts when they are in relatively close proximity, but it's not like a radio signal that I can just pick up out of the air. The last time I felt anything from him was in Arizona. And there were lots of people where he was at, all of them crying out at the same time. I haven't had anything like that since. So, I don't think I can help you."

Scully's disappointment was palpable. "I should have realized that...I guess I was hoping you might have had some kind of contact or...or received some kind of thoughts from someone or someTHING that might give us a clue as to where and why he was taken." She sighed deeply. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he's either returned or escapes. I just hope nothing...I hope he's all right."

"Miss Scully," Gibson laid his hand on her arm, "the one thing I did get from him and the others, they're not all right."


Byers laid his fishing pole down on the pier and went to stand next to Scully. She had covered her mouth in horror at Gibson's words, her expression anguished.

"Surely your mistaken, Gibson," said Byers. "How can you be sure? Are you able to read the minds of the aliens, too? Were you able to discern anything from their thoughts while out in that desert?"

"No, the minds of the captives was too overwhelming. They were all I could hear. Besides, the aliens are able to block me from hearing them. I can hear them when they want me to. I know what they're planning because before I was taken into protective custody I was locked in a nuclear reactor with one. That's when I found out all about their plans." The boy looked out over the water, remembering the creature he had encountered.

"What are they planning, Gibson?", asked Scully softly. "Are they...are they going to return the ones they've taken. Or are they going to....", she swallowed quickly, unable to say the words.

"No, they're not going to kill them. They're using them for testing. And eventually they will be returned. But," he hesitated, aware that she wanted to know, but also aware how much pain he could cause her if he told her everything he knew. "I wish I could tell you that I know where and when they'll be returned. Or even how. But, I don't know. I'm sorry."

She smiled sadly at the boy, "It's all right, Gibson. I guess I knew all along you really couldn't help me, but hope dies hard. I feel so helpless, I don't know where to look, or even what to look for. My friends and I have run out of ideas."

"You'll just have to wait until they're ready. In the meantime, you should not be doing this alone. You can't keep running around, it's dangerous for you. You should let that man take care of that. He wants to help." Gibson pointed the figure striding towards them. Behind him trailed Frohike and Langly, both of whom were looking extremely guilty.

"Agent Doggett! What are you doing here? Are you following me?" Scully set her mouth in a thin hard line. She looked over at the two men behind him. "Did you tell him that we were coming here? I thought I could trust you!"

"I'm NOT following you, Agent Scully. In fact, I was wondering what you're doing up here. Don't tell me you vacation with these two clowns." Doggett turned his attention towards Byers and Gibson. "Are you all together? Who are you?"

"I and my associates are here at the request of Agent Scully. We are helping in her search for Agent Mulder," Byers said, lifting his head to stare down the man. "This young man works here at the lodge and was showing us the best place to fish."

"So you took time out of your search to fish?", Doggett asked, shaking his head. "Do you think you're gonna find Mulder at the bottom of this lake, or what? Sorry, Agent Scully, that was uncalled for." Scully's sharp intake of breath made him realize how cruel his question was.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, Agent Doggett," she said.

"He thinks you're hiding Agent Mulder," said Gibson. "He thinks you helped him run away, and that you're up here to meet him."

Agent Doggett looked sharply at the boy. "What makes you say that, kid?"

"It's true, isn't it? He didn't follow you, Miss Scully, he was up here checking a clinic to see if Agent Mulder was getting treatment of some kind. He saw your two friends and they told him that you were here."

"Thanks, kid," muttered Langly, "why don't you co-sign my death warrant while you're at it."

"Langly," she gritted, "you have an unbelieveable big mouth for someone who's supposed to be so freaking paranoid."

"Why do you think it was me? It could have been Frohike! He was there, too, ya know."

"If Agent Doggett was a woman, I could see Frohike telling, but he's not going to spill his guts for another man. No, I know it was you. You wait till we get back to Washington."

"Who is this kid?", asked Doggett again.

"He's someone I thought could help us, Agent Doggett. But I was wrong. Thank you, Hoot, for everything you've done. I guess we'll just have to keep looking." Scully leaned forward to kiss the boy on the cheek.

Gibson whispered to her, "Let him help you. You can trust him. He's only wanting to find Agent Mulder. But he can't without your cooperation. He's not going to do anything to hurt you. Trust him."


Scully and Doggett and the three Lone Gunmen walked back up the pier towards the resort. No one said anything, whether because of the cold, or because of fear of a verbal lashing from Scully. When they were back inside the big lodge house, Scully asked Doggett to join them for lunch.

After ordering their food, Scully said to Doggett, "So, Agent Doggett, you think I've got Mulder squirelled away up here? If I did, don't you think I'd be a little more cautious than to allow Dumb and Dumber to roam around without a leash?" She shook her head at Langly and Frohike. "I can't trust you guys with anything."

"Hey, how were we to know that Dogbert would be lurking over the border," said Langly indignantly.

"Agent Scully," said Doggett as the waitress put their salads in front of them, "that's the kid from the desert, right? Why does he think I believe you're involved with Mulder's disappearance?"

"You do, don't you?", she asked. "Why would you think that of me? Why would I risk everything to take part in a hoax? And what would be the reasoning behind Mulder planning his own abduction?"

"Well, let's say that if I did think you were involved it would be because you've not been completely forthcoming with me. You're hiding something, I know it. And *why* would Mulder pull a stunt like this? He's been diagnosed with an incurable brain disorder, and I might think that you would be involved in order to get him treatment outside of the accepted protocols. That's why I was across the border, checking out a clinic. He believes in all that hocus-pocus crap and I figured...might figure that he would seek such unorthodox treatment."

"And you think I, a medical doctor, would help, allow him to risk his life like that. You don't know me very well, do you Agent Doggett?", she asked.

"No, I don't, Agent Scully. You haven't allowed me to get to know you. And maybe that's what's hindering our search. You won't help me and you won't let me help. You've built a brick wall around everything connected with the X-Files, like a shrine you're keeping for Mulder until he returns. You're keeping everything exactly as he left it. We're not going to get anywhere as long as you don't help me understand what's in those files."

Scully looked down at the food that had been placed in front of her. She raised her eyes back to Doggett's. "Maybe you're right, Agent Doggett. Maybe in my desire to keep Mulder's spirit in that office, I've been the biggest hinderance to finding him. I apologize. I think it's time we started...*I* started working with you. But I can swear to you this, Agent Doggett, I don't know where Mulder is. And I do want your help."

"And I want to help. So, now, let's start from the beginning; tell me all about Mulder's disappearance again...and who exactly are these guys?"


Scully narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Hmmm, well, these gentlemen are friends of Mulder's and mine. They...they have helped us in the past with some of our more...unusual cases."

"Yeah," said Frohike proudly, "we are experts in our field."

"And that would be in the field of......?", asked Doggett.

The three men exchanged looks, each opening and closing their mouths in an effort to explain their lines of expertise.

"We're...computer wizards," said Langly. The other two nodded in agreement and with relief. "Yeah, we're...whizzes at computers, software, hardware, uh, you name it."

"Hackers," said Doggett matter-of-factly.

"Hacker is such a crass term," said Byers. "We're more along the lines of...innovators with technology."

"Hackers," Doggett insisted.

"These three have wide fields of interests, Agent Doggett. Computers are just one aspect. They are also a sort of government watch-dog concerned with full disclosure of uhm, *ahem*, any cover-up by the, uh, government in regards to alien invasion." Scully looked away from Doggett, unable to look at the disbelief in his face.

"Wait a minute, I know who you are. You write that conspiracy theory rag....uh, what's the name?" Doggett was snapping his fingers, trying to recall the name of the paper. "The Lone Ranger? The Lone....? The Lone Gunman. That's it. There must be a 25 copies of that paper in one of the drawers of Mulder's desk. I thought they were satire, sorta like The National Lampoon. You mean you guys are serious about all that stuff you write." Doggett started to laugh, but was met with blank stares by the men and Scully. "Oh, uh, sorry. I just can't believe anybody would believe all that cr...uh, that stuff."

"I agree, Agent Doggett, that some of the articles are a little far-fetched, okay a lot far-fetched, but still, they do know what they're doing, and they have some very valuable sources. That's why I brought them along. I believe they might be able to help us."

Ah, the word *us*. So now maybe she was going to really start opening up to him. Doggett felt a little surge of hope that now she would confide him with whatever secret she was hiding.

The five of them agreed to leave right after lunch to start the drive back to Spokane. They would leave Doggett's rental car at the local agency in Oroville in order for them to all travel together. With any luck, they'd be back in Washington by the next night. Scully knew the drive was going to be hard on her, but she wanted to get back home, back to Skinner. It had been so long since she had seen him, and she needed to feel his arms around her. She needed not just his physical presence, but his emotional support and love as well. She had grown used to having him to lean on, and right now, she needed that. Her hopes of Gibson being able to give them some kind of lead had been dashed, and now her spirits needed shoring up, and she knew Skinner would provide that.

Scully unconsciously rubbed her abdomen, the baby growing inside her her only connection with the man she loved. The movement did not go undetected.

"Are you all right, Agent Scully? Are you feeling sick?" asked Doggett.

"No, no, I'm fine, just a little rumbly in my tummy," she smiled at him and continued to eat. She had been concerned about how she was going to explain all the bathroom breaks she needed on a long trip, but she may have just stumbled onto the perfect excuse. "Maybe I shouldn't have ordered the chicken salad. I'll be fine, I'm sure."


Scully was exhausted. They finally landed at Dulles and all she could think of was getting home, a warm bath, and Skinner. She had managed one phone call outside the presence of Doggett, and they had made plans for him to go to her apartment and stay the night. Skinner had been surprised at her invitation, but she was tired, lonely, discouraged, and she wanted him with her. Now that she and Doggett had actually talked, she felt he would no longer bother to investigate her. She still wasn't ready for him to know about her involvement with Skinner, and of course the pregnancy, but she was ready to trust him a little more.

She said good-bye with relief to Langly, Frohike, and Byers. She was glad to see them leave. They had bickered with each other and Doggett, and the agent had baited them as much as he could about their beliefs and suspicions. She had tried feigning sleep in order not to get drawn in to their ridiculous conversations. But, now they were gone,
and all she had to do was shake Doggett.

"Agent Doggett, I'll see you tomorrow at the office. I'm glad we got a chance to talk. Now that we're bothing working towards the same goal, maybe things will go better." She picked up her carry-on and waved to him. As she started to walk off, he called to her.

"Wait. Uh, how are you getting home? A cab? No, no. Why don't you let me drive you. You look ready to drop and I can probably get you home faster, and a whole lot cheaper. Whadya say?" He smiled at her, determined not to take no for an answer.

"No, that's all right, really. I don't mind taking a cab. It'll be so far out of your way. Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine." Oh, hell.

"I insist," he said as he took her bag from her hand. "Come on, it's not out of my way, and I want to make sure you get home okay. We're working as a team, now, remember? And teammates always take care of each other. Let's go."

Scully reluctantly followed Doggett to the bus that would take them to the remote lot where he was parked. She was trying to figure out how to call Skinner to let him know to drop by later than they had planned. But, Doggett had taken her arm and she had no way of politely refusing.

They drove to her apartment, speaking very little. He attributed it to her being tired, and she did look as if she were dragging. She gave him directions to her apartment, hoping that once they were there she could grab her bag and go in alone. If he offered to walk her to her door she had no idea what excuse she would give to refuse him. She closed her mind entirely as to what she would have to say if he did go in with her and Walter Skinner was standing in her living room.

She searched the street in front of her apartment, looking for Skinner's car. It was no where to be seen; good, he must be running late. This may still work out all right. She just had to get rid of Doggett. As soon as the pick-up truck stopped, she jumped out. She couldn't reach her bag which he had stowed behind his seat. He got out, pulled it from the back seat, and waved her towards her building.

"In a rush, Agent Scully? Is your stomach still upset? I guess that shows you shouldn't order chicken salad at a fishing lodge. Come on, I'll carry your bag while you run on in."

She couldn't think of anything to say, so she allowed him to follow her up to her apartment. As soon as she unlocked the door, she ran towards her bathroom, still wearing her overcoat. She closed the door and took out her cell-phone and franctically dialled Skinner's number. Damn!! The answering machine. He must have left all ready. Oh, hell, what was she going to do? She couldn't rush Doggett out without drawing suspicion to herself. She paced the bathroom for a bit, then decided that she'd just have to pretend to be sick in order to get him to leave. While she was in the bathroom, she went ahead and used it, then stared at her reflection in the mirror for a minute to compose herself. She opened the door, took a deep breath, composed a look of pained distress on her face and walked into her living room.

"Agent Scully, look who came to check on you," said Agent Doggett. He indicated the man just rising from the sofa. "You were right about one thing, A.D. Skinner really does watch out for his agents."

Scully stood staring at the tall handsome form of A.D. Skinner. He didn't look exactly pleased; in fact, he was clenching his jaw furiously. She couldn't not think of a thing to say, so she did the only thing that felt right for the moment.

She fainted.


Scully slowly came out of the fog. She could hear two male voices, and someone was softly patting her face. She didn't want to open her eyes, so she turned her head into the chest of whoever was holding her as she lay on the floor.

"Agent Scully! Agent Scully! Can you hear me?" Doggett voice was soft, worried. He had been the first to reach her as she crumpled to the floor.

"Get her on the couch, Agent Doggett. No, here let me lift her." She could feel Skinner's arms go behind her back and under her knees. He lifted her into his arms, then he stood and moved towards the sofa, where he lay her down gently. He left his arm around her shoulders, removing his other arm so he could stroke her face.

"What the hell happened to her out there?", he demanded. "And what are you doing here?"

"I accidently met up with Agent Scully in Washington state. I was checking out a clinic on the Canadian side of the border, and she was looking for a young boy. We flew back together, along with some really strange individuals who are friends of Mulder's. She'd eaten something yesterday that didn't agree with her, and she's been having stomach problems all the way home. I guess she was sicker than she thought. Do you think I should call a doctor?"

"No, wait, let's see how she's doing. Get her a glass of water, she's coming around." Skinner continued to stroke her face, fear and concern written all over his own.

Doggett went into the small kitchen and they could hear him rattling around looking for a glass. Scully took the opportunity to open her eyes. She took his hand in hers and kissed it.

"I'm okay, Walter, honest," she whispered. "I guess I panicked when I saw you two together. I'm not sick, I was just pretending."

"Where does she keep the damn glasses?", came Doggett's voice from the kitchen.

Skinner glanced towards the kitchen, saw Doggett was leaning down looking for glasses under the sink, and took the opportunity to steal a very quick kiss. "You're sure? You're not sick? Positive?"

"Positive. I've missed you so much." There came a clatter from the kitchen. "Oh, hell, he's gonna break something."
Skinner squeezed her hand, and got up to go rescue Scully's kitchenware. He went directly to the cabinet where the glasses were stored, took one, filled it and handed it to Doggett. "I'll get her a wash cloth." He moved towards the bathroom.

Doggett looked at the glass in his hand, then at the retreating figure of the assistant director. How'd he know where to look? He shook his head, must have been here a few times with Mulder.

He took the water back to Scully, and helped her to sit up in order to drink. Skinner brought back a wet cloth for Scully to wipe her face with, then stood by as Doggett continued to help her get comfortable.

"Agent Scully," he said, "have you had anything to eat?"

"Uh, no, sir. Not since noon."

"I think you need some soup, why don't I run out and get some and drop it off for you later. You can rest a bit while I get it. Would that be all right?" He looked at her, waiting for her response. He figured while he was gone, she'd get rid of Doggett.

"That's a good idea, sir," said Doggett. "I'll wait here for you to return, so she won't be alone."

"NO! No, that's okay, Agent Doggett, I can stay here by myself. I'm feeling better and I'll just lay here and wait for A.D. Skinner. To return with the soup." She smiled a little shakily at the agent.

"No, I insist. Go ahead, A.D. Skinner. I'll make sure she gets ready for bed, so that after she eats, she can go straight to sleep."

Skinner and Scully exchanged quick looks, she shrugged slightly, and the assistant director left reluctantly. Doggett helped Scully walk slowly towards her bedroom, where she gathered up pajamas, then she moved cautiously towads the bathroom. She smiled at him as she politely and firmly closed and locked the bathroom door. She turned around and stamped her foot.

How the hell was she gonna get rid of him?


Scully took a quick shower and washed her hair. She towel-dried and put on a pair of forest-green silk pajamas. She wrapped her head in a towel and went into the living room. Doggett had made her a cup of tea, and placed the hot mug on a coaster on her coffee table.

"In my search for a glass, I found your tea and thought you might like some. Go ahead, sit down, get comfortable." He motioned for her to sit in a corner of the sofa.

She sat down slowly and tucked her feet under her. He took an afghan off the back of the chair adjacent to the sofa and spread it over her lap. She thanked him and he handed her the mug. She sat sipping the tea slowly, feeling the warmth finally relaxing her. Her eyes were growing heavy with the fatigue that had been plaguing her all day.
There was a sharp knock at the door, and Skinner walked into the room. He took in the sight of Scully in her p.j.'s, sipping tea, with Doggett sitting in a chair near her. She raised her eyebrows slightly, indicating she had no chance to get rid of him.

"I, uh, I got you some chicken soup, Agent Scully, from the deli down the street. That should work wonders for you. Let me get you a bowl, that way you can eat and get right to bed." Skinner went into the kitchen, found a large soup bowl into which he poured the hot soup, a spoon, and a napkin.

He took them back into the living room, where she sat on the edge of the sofa to eat. She found it difficult to eat with both of them watching her every move. She managed to get down about half, then announced she had all she could eat.

"It was delicious, A.D. Skinner. Thank you. But now, I'm tired and if you gentlemen don't mind, I'd like to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, Agent Doggett. And you too, A.D. Skinner." She looked at them both with a tired smile, hoping they'd leave.

"Yeah, sure, Agent Scully, tomorrow," said Agent

Doggett. "Sir, I'm going to get something to eat, would you like to join me?"

"Uh, no, Agent Doggett, actually, I have a date."

"A date?" So far as Agent Doggett knew, his boss never went out.

"Yes, a date. Is that so hard to believe? I'm supposed to meet her in about 45 minutes."

"Forty-five minutes?", asked Scully. "Then you'd better hurry. She might get tired....of waiting."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," he said, a serious look on his face. "Come on, Agent Doggett, let's let Agent Scully finish getting ready for bed."

The two men left together, and Scully dashed into her bedroom to blow dry her hair and put on a little bit of makeup. She had thought about changing into something a little sexier, but these pajamas felt so good, she decided to leave them on. She quickly remade the bed with fresh sheets, squirted a little perfume behind her earlobes, and got into bed. Thirty minutes, he should be here in thirty minutes.

She smoothed the sheets over her legs, propped her pillows up behind her and sat waiting for him to come in the room. He had a key, so he wouldn't have to knock. She couldn't wait for the feel of his arms around her, and she sat day-dreaming of him. Her eyes slowly closed as the long trip at last caught up with her.

Skinner had driven around for 45 minutes. Doggett had wanted to chat for a minute, but Skinner had politely blown him off with a tale of how far he had to drive to get to his date. And now, at last, he parked in front of her apartment, and went upstairs. He used he his key, relocked the door, and went into her bedroom.

She lay on her side, one hand under her cheek. She was breathing with the rhythm of sleep. He quickly undressed, and slowly climbed into bed, not wanting to disturb her. She had look so tired earlier, he wanted her to get some sleep. He put his arm around her and drew her to his chest. She snuggled close to him, murmuring his name. She was warm, and she smelled sweet. He kissed her head lightly, and as he drifted off to sleep he realized how good this felt; her in his arms, safe, secure. He wanted this every night, not just when they could steal a moment.

He was getting tired of waiting.


"Walter."

"Hmmmmm."

"Walter, wake up."

"Mmmmmm. What?"

"Walter! Wake up!"

"Mmmmmm, what? What's wrong? What time is it?"

Skinner rolled over on his back and checked the bedside clock: 5:30a.m. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" He propped himself on one elbow, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It's time to get up," said Scully as she stroked his face, rubbing her fingers softly over his lips.

"It's only 5:30. I told Kimberly I wouldn't be in until mid-morning. Go back to sleep, love, you need to rest."

"No, Walter, I need *you*." She moved her hand slowly down his throat to his chest, caressing it, running her fingers through the soft hair that covered it.

He pulled her close to him, so that he hovered slightly over her. "Ohhhh, I see. I'm just a means to satisfy your carnal cravings, even in the middle of the night." He kissed her lips, then moved his mouth to her jawline, down her neck, and to her shoulder. He ran his hand under her pajama top, stroking her ribs, her abdomen, before moving up to capture one of her breasts.

"I've missed you," she whispered. She put her hand under his chin and tilted his face up to hers. They kissed with the fervor of lovers kept apart for far too long.


Afterwards, they lay side-by-side, happy, content, comfortable. She moved to get out of bed, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Again, Walter?", she laughed. "It's 7:30 and I need to get ready for work. Besides, your child is lying on my bladder and I really, really need to go. Why don't you make some coffee? I'll be right out." She leaned over and kissed him, then grabbed her robe and ran naked into the bathroom.

He watched her make her escape, then got up and pulled on his boxers. He padded barefoot into the kitchen where he found the coffee and made a pot, and poured two cups. He was walking back to the bedroom when there was a knock on the door. He looked through the peephole to see John Doggett standing there. The sight so startled him that he sloshed hot coffee on his hand. Wincing, but trying not to make a sound, he hurried as carefully as he could towards the bedroom.

"Dana!", he whispered at the bathroom door.

"I'll be right out. My goodness, you can't wait 5 minutes?"

"Shhhh! Doggett's at the door!"

"Oh, shit!" She jerked open the door, and stood there in her robe, eyes wide. "Oh, man, what the hell does he want? Quick, get into the bedroom and close the door! I'll get rid of him."

She waited until the bedroom door clicked, then composed herself and went towards the living room. There was another knock on the door. Oh, great. Skinner's overcoat was draped on the back of the sofa. She picked it up and ran back to the bedroom, where she opened the door and threw in the coat. Then she ran back to the living room, where she saw his bag sitting on the floor beside the sofa. Again, she picked it up and ran to throw it into her bedroom. Back to the living room, where she looked around franctically for any other evidence of her lover's presence.

"Agent Scully!", Doggett called loudly. He knocked again.

"Just a minute!", she said. Skinner's car keys were on the end table. She snatched them up and put them in the pocket of her robe. Taking a deep breath and making sure her robe was securely closed, she opened the door and smiled at Doggett.

"Yes, Agent Doggett? What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you in the shower? I just dropped by to see if you wanted a ride to work. I figured you'd still be tired, and might not want to drive today. How about?" He smiled down at her.

"Uh, well, uh, thanks, but that's okay, I'm fine. I can drive myself. That was really nice of you to think of me, but I'd rather take my own car."

"Come on, ride with me. With the price of gas, you could save a little money and think how noble you'll feel, knowing you're car-pooling and saving energy resources. I'll just wait here while you finish getting ready. Ummmm, is that coffee I smell? Do you mind if I have a cup?" He moved past her and made his way into the kitchen, where he found a mug and poured the hot coffee into it. Then he went back into the living room, where she still stood. Oh, man!!


Scully slowly closed her apartment door, clutched her robe closer and moved to stand behind the sofa where Doggett was now lounging.

"Agent Doggett, uh, I...", she hesitated. She was going to raise all sorts of red flags for him if she declined his offer for a ride and threw him out. She sighed, "I'll be ready in about 20 minutes. Excuse me." She started towards her bedroom.

"Take your time," he said. "I called the office and we won't have to report to A.D. Skinner until noon. He's not coming in early. He must have had a really good time on his date. I'm glad for the guy, he doesn't look like he has much fun."

She paused slightly before going into her room. Oh, Agent Doggett, how wrong you are. She opened the door and slipped in. Skinner was standing behind the door.

"This is highly undignified," he whispered indignantly, "for an assistant director of the FBI to be lurking in a bedroom. Get him out of here."

"I can't!", she whispered back. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll get ready and get out of here as fast as I can. But you gotta admit," she smiled wickedly as she kissed him, "this is kind of exciting."

"Dana," he said, "this isn't funny. Just...just hurry."

She moved to get her clothes and heard him whisper a frustrated, "Damn!"

"What's wrong?"

"My car. It's out front. He had to have seen it." He shook his head in frustration. "Look, why don't we just admit to the man what's going on. We're going to have to face it sooner or later, why not now?"

"Because while Gibson told me he can be trusted, I still worry I might be removed from the X-Files before we find Mulder. I want to be close to any information that comes in. And to you. You know they'll transfer me away, and I need you too much right now. A little while longer, please?" She stood in front of him, clutching the suit she was going to wear that day.

"Dana, we really need to make some plans, you know that. We can't wait much longer."

"We'll talk, I promise. Right now I just want to get him out of here. I love you." She stood on tiptoe to kiss the cleft in his chin. Then she ran from the room and into the bathroom, leaving Skinner standing in middle of the room, wondering why he allowed her to lead him around like a castrated bull.

She showered and dressed in record time, and was ready in the alloted 20 minutes. She grabbed her bag and opened the apartment door, waiting for Doggett to rise from the sofa and follow her out. She locked it after her and they took the elevator to the first floor.

"I'm parked over here, Agent Scully," said Doggett. He unlocked her door and she slid in. "Isn't that A.D. Skinner's car over there? I wonder why it's parked here?"

"I don't know, all cars look the same to me," she said quickly. "Maybe it's one that just looks like his."

"No, that's his, I remember the tags from last night. Bad habit of mine, holdover from when I was a cop. I can't seem to shake the habit of memorizing car tags. Anyway, I'm almost positive that his. And from the amount of ice on it, I'd say it was here all night. I thought he had a hot date."

"Maybe he left it here and took a cab." She was grasping desperately for straws.

"No, he left before I did. I saw him drive off. Hmmm, weird. You didn't see him come back here last night, did you?"

"Agent Doggett, are you now accusing me of hiding A.D. Skinner? Maybe you think we're having some kind of torrid affair." She blushed, after all, that was exactly what was happening.

Doggett laughed. "No, I can't see that. Nothing personal, Agent Scully, but I don't think you're his type. I suspect he goes in for tall, blonde women with big...uh, you know, big women. You are a little less than...tall. And besides, I think you might find him too old and boring. And of course, there's always Agent Mulder."

"Agent Mulder?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm aware that your interest in finding him goes beyond the concerns of his being your partner with the Bureau. I realize it's a lot more personal."

"Agent Doggett?"

"Yes?"

"Just drive."

Dear Kate:

Hope your holidays went well. It was colder than a witch's tit here, but at least we didn't get any snow. Dana said to say thank you again for the quilt you made for the baby. She says it's beautiful and she'll cherish it because you made it.

I seemed to have scored major points with my gift, too. She liked the pearl earrings, but was thrilled with the 12 visits to that woman's spa you recommended. Even her mother agreed it was a good gift, especially after the baby's born and she'll need some time for a little personal TLC. You must have been telling family secrets again, because the books she got me were something only you would remember.

Some nice, old copies of "Tom Sawyer", "Huckleberry Finn", and "Tarzan". Not first editions, of course, but still, old, leather-bound, and well-loved. She put a little note in one, saying that she wants to make sure I read them to our child so he or she can enjoy them as much as I did.
Right now, though, I worried about her. There's a case that was suddenly dropped in her and Doggett's laps regarding a woman who died while supposedly giving birth to an alien baby. Dana's now got it in her head that maybe our child is...not our child. She's thinking that it's too much of a coincidence that she should suddenly get pregnant after being told by so many doctors that she couldn't. She says her medical history is too similar to the woman who died.
And the husband of the woman didn't help any by saying there were more women out there who might have been implanted with an alien embryo. I know how far-fetched that sounds, but after seeing some of the things I've seen, I'm not discounting the possibility that the dead woman was indeed part of some experiment.

I just can't convince Dana that she's not part of the same thing.

I'll write more in a few days, right now, Dana just called and wants me to meet her. Says she's got someone she needs to protect and needs to talk to me about it.

Love,
Walter

*****************

"No!"

"But, Walter. If Ms. Hendershot is part of the same experiment that killed that woman, I have to make sure she's protected."

"Let someone else take her. Let Doggett. It doesn't have to be you."

"Yes, it does. The hospital I'm taking her to, the doctors that are going to take care of her, I want them to check me out, too. I need to for my own peace of mind, Walter."

"Dana, why won't you believe me? This baby you're carrying is ours. Yours and mine. Created by us, out of our love. Not an embryo implanted as the result of some devious experiment by an alien race."

"I..I hope so, Walter, really. But, I'm afraid. What if it's not? What if I've been loving this...child, preparing it, and it turns out to be some gross misrepresentation of human life. I have to know for sure."

They sat for several minutes, staring at each other. He was the first to blink.

"You're sure this place is safe. It's a military hospital so you shouldn't be in any danger. And you'll let me know everything. You'll hide nothing." They were not questions, but commands. He had shifted into a supervisory role. It was the only way he knew to handle the situation.

"Yes. As soon as I know anything, I'll call you. Thank you." She reached for his hand. He gripped hers as if he was never going to let go.

"Thank me for what? I'm not giving you permission. You'll go whether I want you to or not." He sighed, "I'll call Doggett. He needs to know you're leaving."

****************************

As John Doggett came slowly out of Scully's hospital room, he heard his name being called. He looked up to see Skinner jogging down the hall, his trenchcoat flapping like wings out behind him.

"Agent Doggett! Is she all right? What did the doctors say? Is...?", Skinnered stopped.

"She's fine, sir, the doctors said he's just fine." Doggett narrowed his eyes as he looked into the worried face of his supervisor. "You knew she's pregnant. You knew all along."

"Did..did she tell you she's pregnant?" Concern and something else, possibly relief? shadowed Skinner's face.

"Her doctors did, she just admitted it. Said she was afraid she'd be removed from the X-Files." Doggett sighed, "Well that explains why she's so desperate to find Mulder."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, I would guess she'd like him around when their baby's born. That explains all the secrecy."

"She told you Mulder was the father?" Skinner shook his head in disbelief.

"No, she didn't have to. I mean, they've been together for so long, and it would only be natural for them to grow close. I've seen it happen too many times. I just hope we find him before she gives birth."

"Uh, can she have visitors? I would like to go in and check on her," said Skinner, his jaw starting to clench.

"Yeah, the docs said she could have visitors as long as they don't stay too long. I'll go down and see if I can interview Ms. Hendershot again. Maybe she can shed some more light on what happened out there." Doggett started off towards the elevators.

Skinner waited till the agent entered the elevator car, then he opened the door to Scully's room. She was lying on her back, rubbing her abdomen. It was now starting to swell slightly with the advancing pregnancy. She saw him and held out her arms to him, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. He closed the door securely behind him, then moved towards the bed. He grabbed her in a hug so tight she was lifted from the bed.

"Dana," he said, tears making his voice thick, "I don't know whether to shake you till your teeth rattle, or hug you till it hurts."

"I'm so glad to see you. Oh, Walter, I was so scared. I didn't know what was going to happen. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot." She was crying hard now, shaking with sobs.

"Shush, shush, it's all right, things are okay. You're fine and so's the baby, that's all that matters. But, Dana," and he held her out at arms length. "no more. We're getting married as soon as possible. I won't...I can't stand idly by, waiting for you to decide. As soon as you're out of the hospital, we go to city hall and get married. We can do something formal later, if that's what you want. And we'll worry about telling the Bureau afterwards. If they transfer you, well, then, that's the way it'll have to be. But you are not putting yourself into any more danger. Understood?"

"All right, Walter," she said, giving him a tremulous smile. "But, not city hall."

"Dana..."

"I want to get married in West Virginia. As soon as we can arrange it. My mother will just have to be happy with the fact I'm married, and not worry about where the ceremony takes place. Do you think your family will mind a rushed wedding?"

"Are you kidding? You've seen them in action. They'll have everything ready tomorrow, if that's what we want."

She laughed, "No, not tomorrow. How about a week from Saturday. That'll give me time to get out of here, and find an appropriate wedding-slash-maternity suit. The cat's out of the bag now, might as well start wearing comfortable clothes."

He kissed her then, happily, slowly. "Should we invite Agent Doggett?", he whispered against her ear. "He thinks it's Mulder's baby. What a shock this is gonna be for the great NYPD detective. Sometimes that boy is as thick as concrete."

She laughed again, softly, "He sees what he wants to see. No, let's not invite anybody except the Lone Gunmen. They've been so kind to us, I really want them there. That is, if you think they won't scare your family."

"Dana, you'd better worry more about my family scaring them."


Agent Doggett wandered into A.D. Skinner's assistant's office. He was currently between cases and his partner had told him she was leaving for an extended weekend. Now that he knew she was pregnant, he was willing to cut her a lot of slack. He did feel like a complete fool, though. All that time he had wasted suspecting her of hiding Mulder when she was really hiding her condition. Some investigator he was.

"May I help you, Agent Doggett?", asked Kimberly.

Doggett stood in front of her desk, hands in his pockets. "Well, Kimberly, I was wanting to see A.D. Skinner, if he's not busy."

"He's not here, Agent Doggett. He's taking an extended weekend. He said he'd be back Tuesday."

"Really? Hmm. So's Agent Scully. Weird. Maybe they're together," he chuckled.

"I don't think so. I think he went home to West Virginia. I overheard him say something about a wedding. One of his relatives must be getting married."

"He has relatives?", Doggett laughed. "I thought he had sprung fully formed from Zeus's forehead."

Kimberly stared at the agent. He stopped laughing, turning it into a cough. "It's just a reference to Greek myth....."

"I know what it is, Agent Doggett. I may be a just lowly assistant to you, but I do have a brain, and I do read. Now, if you have nothing further to add to my day...", she dismissed him with a look.

Agent Doggett left her office and took the elevator back down to the basement. He was bored, nothing to work on, no one to talk to. He opened and closed the desk drawers, searching for anything to do. He came across a copy of that conspiracy rag published by Mulder's friends. Now that he'd gotten to know them a little better, he actually liked them. Hmmmm, wonder if they were busy. He could always go over there and bait them about their theories. That was always good for a laugh. They didn't take his razzing seriously, and who knows? Maybe Frohike would make some of his famous bistek milanesa.

Doggett left his basement domain and drove to the warehouse that served as publishing house and home to the Lone Gunmen. He knocked on the door and waited. It took them some time to open up, what with having to unlock about 100 locks. When he finally was allowed to enter, the place was a-buzz with activity.

"What's all the ruckus?", he asked. "You guys going somewhere?"

Byers was carrying a hanging bag with what appeared to be three identical suits in it. Frohike was putting small shaving accessories into a leather bag, and Langly was folding shirts and putting them into a suitcase.

"Sorry, Agent Doggett. We're in something of a rush. We're trying to get to the airport to catch a flight. We have to leave extra early in case our van decides to act it's age," said Byers as he rolled socks and neatly put them in a corner of his bag.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh, we're just going out of town for a few days. We'll be back Monday afternoon. Maybe you could stop then," Byers said absently.

"Well, look, guys, if your van's having problems, why don't I drive you to the airport? I've got nothing to do. Agent Scully's out of town, and I'm sorta a loose ends. It'd really break up my day if you'd let me take you."

"Look, J. Edgar, thanks for the offer but, we couldn't impose. We'll manage just fine," Frohike said as he tried to lead the agent to the door.

"No, honest, I don't mind. And I won't take no for an answer. So, now, you can slow down and tell me where you're headed." Doggett sat down on the cracked leather sofa and crossed his long legs.

"We're..we're going....", started Byers.

"Hey, Byers, do you think this appropriate for a wedding in the mountains of West Virginia? Or do you think it's too formal?", asked Langly as he came into the room holding a solid black t-shirt up to his chest. He turned it around and on the back was a full-face shot of Joey Ramone.

"You're going to a wedding?"

"Langly!!"

"Oh, man, she's gonna kill me!!", whined Langly.

"Who?", demanded Doggett. "Who's gonna kill you? You all aren't going to the same wedding Skinner's going to, are you? Are you all that close that you'd get invited to a family celebration?"

"You know he's going to a wedding? Who told you that?", asked Frohike.

"His assistant. She said she thought on of his relatives was getting married. Did Agent Scully get invited, too? Is that where she's at?"

"Uh, Agent Doggett, we're really not at liberty to say,"

Byers hedged. "We really need to get going, so if you'll excuse us."

"My offer still stands, I'll take you all to the airport," said Doggett. His curiosity was piqued; he wanted to know where these guys were going. Something was up, and he suspected it might not be a relative that was getting married. Skinner, that old dog. That woman he'd been dating for the last month or so must have really knocked him for a loop. He did think his boss was the kind to make such an impetious move, but then, you never knew.

All he needed to do was find out where they were headed. That should be easy enough. West Virginia wasn't that big. Besides, Langly was such a motor mouth he should be able to get that information from him easily.


Byers, Langly and Frohike exchanged glances. It would make it easier if Doggett drove them to the airport. He already knew they were headed to West Virginia, and Langly had not let it slip exactly where. They couldn't see any harm in letting him take them.

"Okay, Agent Doggett, it's very kind of you offer and it would be rude of us to refuse," said Byers. "Do you two have everything? Are you all ready?"

The other two nodded yes, and Doggett helped carry their luggage down to his car. Byers locked the door to their building, then took his own hanging garment bag down to Doggett. Doggett was leaning into the truck, making sure the luggage was situated so that everything would fit. He stood up and stepped back just as Byers came up behind him. Doggett stumbled and almost knocked Byers to the ground, but grabbed him before he could hit the pavement.

"Sorry, Byers, I didn't see you. Here, let me take that, we can lay it on top so that nothing gets wrinkled." He put the garment bag on top, then slammed the lid shut. "Okay, guys, everybody settled? Good, let's go."

And he drove the three men to the airport, making small talk the whole way, never once asking about their final destination nor pressing them for more information. Langly breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the airport and he had managed not to let anything slip. Doggett unloaded the baggage and the men waved to him as he drove off.

"Well," said Frohike, "maybe he was just being a nice guy after all. He seemed to give up questioning us when he realized we weren't going to give him any information. Guess he knew he had met his match."

"Hmmmm," said Byers, "yes, he did seem to lose interest, didn't he? Well, never mind. Let's get checked in and get to our gate. I just hope the airplane is on time."

"I hope they've got some booze, I could use a drink. And the hostesses or stewardesses or whatever they call'em now had better be good-lookin'," muttered Frohike.

"Gimme a break, Frohike," said Langly, "this is a commuter flight. You'll be lucky to get a soft drink and a bag of peanuts."

The Lone Gunmen checked their luggage, got their boarding passes, and made their way to the gate where their flight was to leave. In the meantime, Doggett had driven out of the airport terminal and headed back towards the city. He pulled up in front of the run-down warehouse, got out of his car and climbed the short stairs to the metal door he had watched Byers lock.

He knew there was no alarm set, he had not seen any sign of one when he had gone in the first time. He took a ring of keys from his pocket, the same ones Byers had used to lock up. He had lifted them from the smaller man's pocket when he had stumbled into him. His mother had been right; it was a good thing he had ended up being a cop. Otherwise, he would have spent the major part of his life incarcerated for pick-pocketing and breaking and entering.

After opening the door, he went immediately to the computer terminal he had seen Frohike checking. He was no computer genius, but he knew enough to be able to bring up the same screen that had interested Frohike. Sure enough, there it was, their travel itinerary. Flight information, car rental, motel reservations. Hmmm, Econo-Lodge, Alonzo, West Virginia, three rooms.

Doggett initiated a search for Alonzo, West Virginia. Not very big, was it? He was surprised that Skinner's future bride was willing to get married in such a small place. He would have thought anyone Skinner met in DC would want to get married in a big flashy wedding in the city. Must be real love, if she was willing to go to the ends of the earth to get her man.

He knew it was none of his business. The man had a right to some privacy. If Skinner wanted to get married secretly and then spring it on everybody at the Bureau, well, then, more power to him. Doggett had not known the assistant director long enough to be considered a close friend, so his feelings shouldn't be hurt.

But for some unexplicable reason, he wanted to go to that wedding. Just knowing Agent Scully was going to be there was enough to draw him. Maybe, away from Washington and work, maybe they could actually sit down and have a real conversation. Not about the X-Files, or the search for Mulder, but a conversation between two friends. And he wanted to be her friend. He wanted to be there for her if she needed someone to lean on, now that Skinner was getting married. Doggett's affection for her had been growing and was now at the point where her happiness was paramount. He'd do anything to make her happy. Hell, if Mulder didn't show up, he'd even marry her in order to give her baby a name.

Scully stood on a small raised platform while her mother and Kate Skinner pinned up the hem of the skirt to the white wool-and-silk suit she was wearing. She moved mechanically when they told her to turn slightly, her mind a million miles away. Okay, maybe not a million miles, but certainly not here in this room.

She was thinking of tomorrow and the small private ceremony that would take place in the living room of Roy Skinner's home. Before the fireplace, and in front of his brothers and sisters, their spouses, his father and step-mother, her mother and her brother Bill's small family, she and Walter Skinner would become man and wife.

It's what she wanted; this man who had stayed on the periphery of her life for so long, until one day she finally noticed that he wasn't wallpaper or background noise, but a wonderful loving person. Now, she couldn't imagine not having him in her life. He had given her so much, love, support, and of course, this miracle growing inside of her. She laid her hand on the swell of her abdomen. She was finally starting to show just a little, but still she had not felt any movement. She wanted that, to feel it, to know this was more than just a dream.

Her mother noticed her hand. "Is the skirt too tight, Dana? I don't know if we can let the waist out anymore. You have really started to expand in the last week. It seems like you've just blossomed all of a sudden."

"No, Mom," Scully reassured her, "the waist is fine. It's a good thing I got it a size bigger, or we'd really be in a mess."

"Then, what is it, dear? Are you feeling all right? Do you want to sit down?", asked her mother.

"No, Mom, I'm fine. I'm just...I'm fine," Scully smiled reassuringly at her worried mother.

"Gettin' cold feet, Dana, honey?", smiled Kate. "Don't blame you, he is sort of a handful. If he gets outta hand, just let us know, we'll take him down a peg or two. Although, I don't think that's gonna happen. I've never seen Dub so happy or so much in love in my entire life."

Scully laughed, "No, I'm not getting cold feet. Nor am I scared, or worried, or unhappy. In fact, I'm unbelievably happy. I just wish...I wish Daddy could be here, to meet the man I'm marrying. I think he'd like Walter, don't you, Mom?"

Margaret Scully's eyes filled with tears, "Yes, Dana, I think he would really like Walter. I wish he could be here, too, but I know he's watching you and is very proud for you." She sighed, "I wish Charlie could be here, too. And Melissa."

Scully stepped down and wrapped her arms around her mother. "I wish Missy was here, too, Mom. I miss her so much. And as for Charlie," she smiled through her own tears, "I think it's time we started an X-File on him."

Both women chuckled, and Kate wiped her own eyes. "Get out of the suit, honey, and I'll whip up the hem in a while. Right now, I think it's time for some tea, don't you."

As Scully started to take off the delicate suit, Margaret Scully and Kate strolled arm and arm back into the kitchen. They talked easily, as if they were old friends, instead of two strangers who had only met the day before. Margaret Scully had been taken back a little by the outgoing Kate and her sisters and sisters-in-law, though she soon found that for all the noise and laughing and talking, these were strong, honest, tender-hearted women, who loved each other and seemed to love Dana as well.

Back in the bedroom, Scully carefully hung up the skirt and jacket she'd wear tomorrow, stroking the fine material softly. It was a beautiful suit, and she knew she looked good in it. Of course, her mother had wanted her to wear something a little more feminine and flowing, but Scully had insisted this would be better. After all, she was 37 years old and pregnant. It seemed to her to be just a little ludicrous to try and pretend she wasn't.

She closed the closet door and slipped on her robe. She had not told her mother about the other person she wished was here. She hadn't said anything to anybody, but she wished with all her heart that Mulder could be here. She knew that he had started to make peace with the fact that she had fallen in love with Walter Skinner. She wanted him here, not to rub his face in her joy, but because he was her best friend, and she cared for him and wanted him to be safe. She missed him, and knew her own happiness would not be complete until he was back home. As much as she loved and adored Walter Skinner, failure to find Mulder would always overshadow their life together. That's why she was so desperate to find him.


In the early afternoon of that same day, Walter Skinner stood at the Gate 10 of the Charleston airport waiting for Scully's brother and sister-in-law to de-plane. While he showed no outward signs of nervousness, his stomach was exhibiting potential for rebellion. He had met Bill Scully a couple of times in the past, but not at all since beginning his relationship with Scully. And meeting him as Dana's boss was one thing, meeting him again as her future husband put a whole different spin on things.

Skinner remembered how Mulder used to tell him that Bill Scully hated Mulder. That Bill Scully saw Mulder as the cause of all of Dana's problems, that he put her in constant danger, and that as result of their partnership, their sister had been murdered. Skinner wasn't sure if Bill Scully's hatred of Mulder would make him more willing to accept Skinner, or even more cautious and concerned for his sister's well-being.

Well, thought Skinner, I'm marrying his sister whether he likes me or not, so he might as well accept it. He put on his best assistant director face as he finally spotted Bill and Tara Scully. They both looked tired, and she was carrying a somewhat sulky 3-year-old.

"Commander Scully," Skinner said as he moved forward to shake his hand. "Good to see you again. Mrs. Scully," he smiled slightly at the blonde woman as she shifted the small boy to a more comfortable position on her hip. "And this must be Matthew. Hi, Matthew. Wanna come to me so your mom can rest?"

"He doesn't usually go with strangers...." Tara started, then stopped as her son reached out for Skinner. "Well," she chuckled, "I guess he must really be tired of our company."

"You got no hair," said the little boy solemnly.

"Matthew!", Tara said quickly, embarrassed by her son's honesty. Bill Scully said nothing, waiting to see how this man was going to handle the situation.

"No, I don't," chuckled Skinner.

"Why?", Matthew persisted.

Skinner wrinkled up his face, as if giving great weight to the question. "Hmmm, I guess so God could find me in a crowd."

Matthew stared at Skinner for a moment, "My daddy says you probably pulled it all out because you were always mad at Aunt Dana's friend. And that he was surprised you didn't shoot him a long time ago. Do you have a gun? Can I see it?"

"No, I'm sorry, you can't see it. I didn't bring it with me. Guns are very dangerous and I keep my locked up so little boys like you can't hurt themselves with it. It would make everybody very sad if you got hurt with a gun. So, promise me that if you ever find one, you'll leave it alone and tell a big person so they can put it away, okay, Matthew?"

The little boy looked into Skinner's face, waiting to see if the big man was going to smile again. When he didn't, Matthew said, "Okay." He wrapped his arms tightly around Skinner's neck and laid his head on his shoulder.

"Matthew," Bill Scully said sternly, "it's time to be quiet now. Sorry, Mr. Skinner, I guess we don't always realize how much he hears and holds. It's good to see you again. And under much happier circumstances." At last the younger man smiled, impressed with Skinner's manner towards the boy. He had not brushed the child's inquiry aside, but had given Matthew enough attention so that he didn't feel left.

"Yes...yes it is good to see you again," said Skinner, visibly relaxing. "Let's get your luggage and get out of here. I know you all must be tired. Mrs. Scully...."

"Tara, please, Walter. We're almost family," she said as she smiled up at the handsome face and warm brown eyes. She had noticed how he seemed more comfortable now that Bill had taken on a more accepting demeanor. She was sure that this usually self-assured man had been concerned about Bill. Tara knew that Skinner and Dana would get married with or without her husband's blessing, but that it would be easier for them if Bill gave it.

She also knew that Bill would have given his approval if Dana had decided to marry Bill Clinton. Anybody was better than Fox Mulder.

Bill and Tara Scully went to get their luggage while Skinner took their son with him to bring his brother George's new Chevy Suburban closer to the terminal. Skinner liked the big vehicle, it was roomy, comfortable, and he could stretch his long legs out when he drove. Not only did George have a new Suburban, but so did all his other brothers and his sisters. They had all decided to buy new cars after receiving a sizable gift from their father. Each had received $250,000, including Walter, but he had not had a chance to cash his yet. His was made out to Mr and Mrs Walter Skinner and they would finally get the money on Monday. Then, maybe he'd buy a new Sub, too, although he suspected he was going to get an argument from Dana. She'd probably want something wimpy like a mini-van. Hell, he'd buy her one and get himself one of these big ol' babies. He laughed as he thought of what Kate had said that with all the big SUVs parked in their father's yard, it was gonna look like a used car lot.

"Whatcha laughin' at?", asked Matthew as Skinner put him in the back seat in a car seat loaned to him by one of his nieces.

"Nothing," he said, "I was just thinking how much fun you're gonna have with all the other little kids that are going to be at the wedding reception tomorrow. There's a whole bunch of them, just about your size."

"What's a wedding resekshun?"

"It's a party people have after two people get married. It can be a lot of fun. There's gonna be music, and food, and lots of people. And all of them are my family. I have a great big family." Skinner negotiated the SUV towards the terminal where Bill and Tara were already standing with their bags.

"I don't. I got a little bitty family. Just Momma and Daddy, and Grandma and Aunt Dana, and Uncle Charlie, but we don't hardly ever see him. Can I be in your family, too? I'd like to have a big family." The little boy popped his thumb into his mouth, eyes wide with anticipation of Skinner's answer.

"Of course, Matthew, you can be a part of my family. I think we'd all like that very much. And when Aunt Dana has her new baby, you can be the official big cousin. How's that?" Skinner had pulled up to the curb, and reached around to pat Matthew's knee.

The boy nodded happily, smiling around his thumb. He started twirling a lock of his hair with his other hand, eyes slowly beginning to droop.

"Has he been talking your ear off?", asked Tara. "He sometimes doesn't know when to quit." She climbed into the backseat with her son, while Bill loaded the bags into the back.

"No, he's been fine. He's a good kid," Skinner said as Bill got into the front seat. "Everybody ready? Good. It's about an hour's drive, so just sit back and enjoy the scenary."

During the drive Matthew fell asleep and Tara managed to lean her head back on the seat for a moment to rest her eyes. She didn't sleep, but sat listening to the two men in the front.

"How's Dana doing?", asked Bill. "I know she's had some problems; Mom keeps me informed. Is she okay now?"

"She's fine. We've had a couple of scares, but she's all right for the present. I'm trying to convince her to slow down, but you know how she is. She's especially concerned that if she doesn't stay on the case, nobody will keep up the search for Mulder, her old partner."

"I know who that bastard is," said Bill, his voice hardening. "He's the cause of all of her problems. If she hadn't been teamed with that psycho, she would not have gone through what she did, with the cancer and all. And my other sister would still be alive. I hate that guy. Personally, I hope they never find him."

Skinner stared out the windshield, carefully picking his words. "Bill, Fox Mulder was...is my friend, and I'm doing everything in my power to find him. He has suffered as much as Dana has over the last 8 years. He's lost his parents, his sister, and had to stand by while Dana was ill, knowing that she was there as a result of her involvement with him. He loves Dana, probably almost as much as I do, and I'm sure he has also felt a sense of betrayal because she chose me over him.
"He's a good man, an honorable man, and Dana and I are going to find him, because we know that if it was one of us, he'd do the same thing. I know you don't like him, but for Dana's sake this weekend, please don't say anything about him that will cause her pain. I want this to be as joyful for her as it can be under the circumstances. I hope you would want the same thing." Skinner turned his head towards the other man. "Agreed?"

Bill Scully took a deep breath, "Agreed. I won't say anything about Mulder. There's probably nobody up here who knows who he is anyway. So, there's very little likelihood that anyone will be bringing his name up. I guess I can forget about him for awhile, right?"


The rest of Friday passed uneventfully. That evening there was a family dinner hosted by Roy Skinner, Sr. and his wife Noretta for Margaret Scully and her son and his family. All of Skinner's brothers and sisters, with their spouses, were present. Roy, Sr. said it would be the last quiet moment before the locusts descended the next day.

"Margaret," he said, "I got more grand young'uns and great-grand young'uns than I can count and when they all get together, it's like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Can't do nothing but go with the flow. And they'll all be at the reception tomorrow, I can gar-damn-tee that. They do love to party."

"And, Margaret, honey," laughed Kate, "Don't even try to figure out who's who. Dana, here, still hasn't gotten everybody separated out. Hell, I'm not even sure I know who belongs to who. And when you start figurin' in second and third wives or husbands, step-kids, adopted kids, foster kids, hanger-on kids, hell, it'd take Saint Peter to straighten it all out."

"Then I guess I'll smile vacuously and let them think I'm a complete air-head," Margaret chuckled.

"Why not? Works for me!", boasted Kate. "They think of me as sweet-but-not-too-bright Auntie Kate. Little do they know that behind these colored contact lenses is the mind of an evil genius."

"Evil, yes. Genius? MMmmm, I'm not too sure," smiled Skinner.

The others laughed along with the two, and the conversation drifted along as full bellies slowed their thought processes. Eventually Roy, Sr. and Margaret were exchanging stories of their respective children's lives, much to the said children's eternal embarrassment.

"Mom!", whispered Scully, "do you have to tell that awful story?"

"Why not? It was so cute how you told me you stuck the bean up your nose to see if it'd grow."

"You didn't think so at the time. If I remember correctly, I got swatted with a comb and had to stand in the corner until time for my doctor's appointment to get it removed. Besides, it was Charlie's fault. He's the one who told me to do it. And nothing happened to him!" Scully crossed her arms and pouted slightly, the indignation still rankled even after 30 years.

"Well, it taught you not to believe everything you're told, now didn't it? Did Walter ever do anything like that, Roy?" Margaret Scully turned to the older man.

"Naw, he wadn't much on puttin' things in his nose. But he did put a lot of stuff down his pants."

"Dad!" Skinner blushed all the way to the back of his head.

"One time, he must-a been about 5 or so, he was sittin' down to dinner and his momma noticed he couldn't sit still. She kept askin' him what was wrong and he kept saying nothing, you know how kids are. Well, she went over to him and pulled his chair out and the front of his pants were jumpin' and twitchin' all over the place. She jerked him out of the chair, thinkin' he must be havin' some kind of fit, and pulled his pants down. Out hopped this big ol' toad. Liked'ta scared her to death. When she asked him why he'd put it there, he said cuz it was too big for his pocket and he didn't want to lose it."

The others were roaring with laughter, tears rolling the cheeks of some of them. Skinner put his head in his hands and shook it slowly. Scully took pity on him and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"It's okay. I'll always be happy to see what you've got twitching in your pants," she smiled.

"After this evening, it may never want to come out again," he groaned.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that," she teased.


The day of the wedding dawned bright, clear, warm. Birds were singing, small animals were frolicking on the path to the church, flowers were blooming, the world moved in slow motion as the beautiful red-haired bride walked down the aisle of the cathedral in her long white dress with the 6-foot long train. Ten bridesmaids and the maid of honor had preceded her down to the altar, where stood the scarlet-robed cardinal and the black tuxedoed groomsmen and the nervous groom.

That's how Margaret Scully had always imagined the wedding of one of her daughters would be like. Instead, her older daughter was dead, murdered in a horrible case of mistaken identity, and her surviving daughter was getting married in a small farm house in West Virginia. The day was bright and clear, but there was nothing warm about this late January morning. The pearl-grey woolen suit she was going to wear was going to be perfect for the afternoon wedding. It was very classy looking with the added bonus of being warm.
Margaret sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed in the motel room she shared with Dana. She knew Dana would have preferred staying with Walter, but last night she, Margaret, had wanted to sleep close to her daughter. It would be the last opportunity they would have to be together as mother and daughter. After today, Dana would be Walter's wife, and in a few months a mother in her own right, and their relationship would change. Margaret had needed one more night of having Dana exclusively to herself.

They had talked far into the night, reminiscing about Bill, Sr., and Melissa, the trials and tribulations of being a military brat, Dana's hopes and concerns of being a wife and mother, her fears regarding labor and delivery. They had laughed together, and cried, and Margaret had tried as best she could to soothe and comfort Dana's fears and worries. When her daughter had last fallen asleep, Margaret had shed a few more tears; for herself, for Melissa and Bill, for Dana and Walter. She fell asleep reciting the rosary, praying for their future together and the future of their child.

Now, though, she had to get Dana moving; they had a lot to do. The Skinners had been wonderful, taking care of all the wedding plans, the reception, everything. She felt guilty that she had done so little, but Kate, Walter's sister, had assured her that the family loved taking care of events like this, even on such short notice. So, she wakened Dana and went into the bathroom to shower. They both had a hairdresser's appointment at 10:00, and she wanted to make sure Dana had breakfast before all the excitement of the day. The last thing she needed was for the bride to pass out because of hypoglycemia.

When Margaret came out of the bathroom, wrapped in her robe, she found Scully standing before the dresser mirror in her pajamas, rubbing her belly, which was just beginning to show the evidence of her pregnancy.

"Dana, are you all right? What's the matter? Are you having any pain?" Margaret tried not to sound worried, but Scully had such a pensive look on her face, that she couldn't help but be concerned.

"No, Mom, I'm fine. I...I was just wondering when I'm going to feel it move. I mean, I'm putting on weight, my waistline is expanding, but I feel nothing. I just want...I want to know it's there," she said wistfully.

"Oh, honey," laughed Margaret, "you'll know soon enough. You're what?...not quite 20 weeks, right? Well, you'll start to feel a little something in the next couple of weeks. It's not something you'll notice right away. Sometimes, you have to lie real still to feel the first movements. They're very faint, sort of like feeling butterfly wings deep inside. Eventually, though, you'll be able to feel them all the time; then you'll wonder if you're carrying Michael Flatley and if he's doing the RiverDance in your guts. Just give it some time. Right now, though, you need to hurry and shower. I want some breakfast and I have a feeling the IHOP down the street will fill fast. Get moving, girl."

Scully threw her arms around her mother and gave her a big hug. "I love you, Mom. Thanks for being so...so understanding." She kissed her mother's soft cheek, then moved quickly to the bathroom.

Margaret Scully stood for a moment, her hand on the spot where Dana had kissed her. Her daughter was not one for open displays of emotion, and tears sprang to Margaret's eyes. "Please, God," she prayed, "give my daughter some happiness. She's all I have, and I just want her to be happy." She quickly dabbed her eyes and started to dress. She was going to make sure Dana's day was as perfect as she could make it.


The Scully family decided to forego the International House of Pancakes and instead chose to eat breakfast at a local diner called Bert's Eatery. When the bell over the door jangled as Scully, her mother, Bill and Tara and their son walked in, all the customers looked up to see who had arrived. For the most part, the dining area was filled with farmers in overalls and gimme-caps with feed and seed logos. But over in one corner, huddled around a small table, were three men who were as out of place as catnip at a dog fight.

Scully spotted the three men and waved. The heads of all the farmers swiveled to see who she was waving at; the Lone Gunmen each gave a half-hearted smile, as if afraid any further action might cause the locals to attack with pitchforks and scythes.

Scully led her family over to a table next to her friends, and as she passed one big burly farmer, he asked, "Ain't you marrying ol' Dub Skinner?"

"Yes, I am," she said with a smile.

"And you know those three hippies?"

"They're friends of mine," she said, her smile becoming hard.

"Strange friends. They look like drug dealers or child pornographers, or sumthin'. I'd be careful, if I was you. Never know what they might do." The man sucked on the toothpick in the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge," snapped Scully. She opened her mouth to say more, but her mother grabbed her arm and led her to the table.

"Dana, calm down," her mother whispered. "Don't get upset. This is supposed to be a happy day. Now, just forget about that man and introduce us to your friends." She turned to the men in the corner and held out her hand. "How do you do? I'm Margaret Scully."

The Lone Gunmen introduced themselves, and everyone shook hands. Frohike was eyeing Bill Scully, remembering what Mulder had told him about the Navy commander. Frohike knew that Bill hated Mulder, which did not endear him to the little man. Still, he was Scully's friend and he didn't want to ruin her day, so he would be careful what he said to her brother. However, if he got the man off alone, he might just let him know what he thought about his attitude toward the missing agent.

"So, boys, how did you sleep last night? Isn't this fresh air just wonderful?", asked Scully after giving the waitress her order.

"Personally," said Langly, "I think fresh air is over-rated. So are small towns. From the way those guys are staring at us, I fear we might be shanghai'd to work in some broken down coal mine. Besides, Frohike kept us up watching some soft-core porn movie that he must have seen a hundred times, because he kept saying the dialogue along with the characters."

"I did not, Langly," Frohike said indignantly. "Besides, I don't think you have to worry about getting sent down any mine shaft. They look more like they'd like to go up yours."

"Gentlemen, please," begged Byers. "We have ladies present, as well as a small, underaged person. Let's keep it clean, okay? How are you doing, Agent Scully? Nervous? Excited?"

"Ready to get it over with, Byers," sighed Scully. "Of course, then we have to go back and confront Deputy Director Kersh with the news, but at least the deed will be done and he'll just have to accept it. I hope he just waits to transfer me until after I find..." She stopped, realizing she was about to mention Mulder in front of her brother.

"I don't know why you feel you have to keep looking for that guy," muttered Bill. "You ought to be glad to be rid of him."

"Bill!", admonished Margaret Scully.

"Mulder is our friend, Commander Scully," said Frohike. "He's a nice guy and he doesn't deserve what's happen to him. Agent Scully knows we'll do everything we can to help her find him. And now, sir, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak ill of Mulder, or I'll have to take you out and thrash you." Frohike lifted his chin in defiance of the much bigger and younger man.
Bill Scully, Jr., looked down at the little man and started to speak. His mother and his wife were both glaring at him, and he closed his mouth, not wanting to incur their wrath.

"Whatever," he mumbled.

"Daddy," piped up Matthew, "what's sof-corn-porn? Is that like corn on the cob? Can I have some?"

"Uh, no, Matthew, they don't have any here. Just eat your pancakes," said Bill softly, glaring at the three men, who were all blushing furiously.

"Little pitchers, Langly, little pitchers," whispered Scully.

After a rather tense meal, the group broke ranks. The women had appointments for hair, make-up and manicures; the Gunmen were to meet with Skinner's brother Woody to help install a new program to help him file tax returns electronically. The computer nerds had been warned by Skinner not to pull any stunts that would get his brother in trouble. No hacking into government files, no changing audit status on the President, no giving themselves refunds for the next five years. They had reluctantly agreed. Even Langly had taken to heart Skinner's threat of imprisonment with some convict named Big Bubba, and had promised not to stray from their assigned task.

Bill and his son were going out to George Skinner's farm so that the young boy could get up close and personal with some of the farm animals. Matthew was more excited about seeing and petting a newborn calf than he was to see his only aunt get married. He had talked of nothing else throughout the meal.

"Bill," warned Tara Scully, "make sure you watch him. Don't let him get dirty and be sure and take his little suit so we can change him out there. See if you can get him down for a little nap, too, so he won't be cranky. And keep him out of the way....."

"Tara," said Bill calmly, "don't worry. We'll be fine, you just go on and get pampered and primped and we'll see you out at the farm about 1:30. I think that's when Walter said his sister-in-law was going to have some kind of cold-cut lunch for us. Now, go on. Let us men get to exploring, right Buddy?" Bill reached down to swing his son onto his shoulders.

"Uh, what time should we get out to Mr. Skinner's farm, Agent Scully," asked Byers.

"The ceremony is at 4:30, Byers, so I guess be there by 4:00. Just follow Woody out to the farm. The reception is at the VFW hall, starting at 6:00. The rest of the family will meet us there, and I suspect the party will go on far into the night. See you guys later." She stood on tiptoe to kiss the cheek of the neatly dressed man. "Thank you guys for coming. I'm glad some of my own friends could come see us get married. And, I wanted someone here who could represent Mulder." She kissed Langly's cheek, then turned to Frohike. After kissing him, she hugged him for a moment. He was probably Mulder's closest friend and she felt especially close to him at that moment.

When she released him, Frohike dabbed at his eyes. "See you later, G-Woman," he whispered. "You've got my best wishes."



John Doggett drove his Lariat rental car through the small town of Alonzo, West Virginia. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, he had flown into Charleston at noon, rented this car and found his way here. Now that he was here, he had no idea where the wedding of Walter Skinner might be held. He didn't know if it was going to be at a church, or even which one. He pulled his car into an angle parking spot in front of a place called Burt's Diner. There were enough pick-up trucks outside that he knew if there was any gossip to be had, this was the place to find it.

The bell jangled as he opened the door. He looked around at the gathered farmers, then moved to the counter and sat on one of the red imitation leather stools. He knew the men were all staring at him, and he did his best to ignore them. Eventually, one of the would strike up a conversation. New people in a small town were always a matter of great curiosity.

Doggett ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of what looked like home-made apple pie. As he took his first bite, one of the farmers spoke to him.

"'At there's the best apple pie in four counties, mister. Ol' Burt learned that recipe from his grandmaw, and she was one of the finest cooks in these parts," the man said.

"Ummm, mmmm," mutered Doggett. It was an excellent pie. "This is good. Reminds me of my momma's pie. She was a real good cook, too. She won a couple of ribbons at the Southern Georgia Regional State Fair for her recipe." He continued to eat, relishing the taste of the fresh baked apples and cinnamon. He could taste just a little nutmeg in it, too. His mother used to do the same thing.

"You from Georgia? I'd'a taken you for a Northern boy, what with that accent." The man shifted the toothpick in his mouth and stuck his hand in the bib of his overalls.

"Yeah, I was born and raised in Newnan, right outside of Atlanta. I lived in New York City for a few years, but now I'm working in Washington, D.C. With the FBI." Doggett was hoping this would get the men to talking about Skinner. He wasn't disappointed.

"The FBI? Do you know ol' Dub Skinner? He's some big shot up there, from what I understand. He was raised right here in Alonzo." The skinny little man in the faded jeans and worn workshirt took up the conversation.

"Dub? Oh, you mean Walter. Yeah, yeah, I know him. I work with him, in fact."

"You here for the weddin'? I didn't think ol' Dub and that little lady he's marryin' had invited anybody from Washington, 'cept those three hippie-lookin' men who're stayin' over at the Econo-Lodge, and her family." The waitress behind the counter had joined the men.

"Uh, well, I wasn't sure I was gonna make it, so they don't know I'm here. Thought I'd stop in here and re-charge my batteries before I surprised them. Uh, cuz I'm not from around here, I'm not sure where I'm goin'. Could you all give me directions? And where's this Econo-Lodge, so's I can get me a room for the night." He might as well get settled before going on to the ceremony.

"Well, the weddin's at Roy Skinner's farm, and the reception's gonna be at the VFW hall. All of Dub's nieces and nephews are over there gettin' things ready. They's a mighty big family, so just the very immediate family and those three hippie-guys are goin' out there. Everybody else'll be at the reception. Gonna have plenty of food and drink and music. Should be a real good time. You'd best hurry if you're gonna get cleaned up afore the ceremony. It's at 4:30, and it'll take you a little bit to get a room and all. Econo-Lodge is just down the street, 'bout two blocks. Can't miss it." The waitress was a wealth of information.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Oh, by the way, do you know if there's another friend of Walter's who might be at the wedding? She's a little bitty thing, real red hair. She works with us at the Bureau, and I thought she might be here, too." Doggett was pulling money out of his wallet to pay for the pie and coffee. "Her name's...."

"Dana Scully," laughed the waitress. All the farmers chuckled along with her. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she's gonna be there. She's the bride. Are you sure you're friends with Dub? Seems like you woulda known that."