TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 1
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
RATING: R/NC-17
CLASSIFICATION:  MSR; RST
SPOILERS:  Second season, episode by lovely episode!
SUMMARY:  A review of the second season with scenes not
seen in the episodes.  What actually happened between
the scenes we saw?  Tune in and find the true smutty
story.
DISCLAIMERS:  Please sue me!!!  I would love my 15
minutes.
FEEDBACK:  Most of it welcomed at philer@onemain.com.
NOTE:  This fic starts where 'As It Might Have Been'
left off at the end of season one.  It would help to
read that one first.  It's available at Gossamer.

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

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VA
February 20, 1994, 6:50am
"Mmmmmmmmm," Scully sighed...groaned, rousing from a
sated sleep.  She realized she had drooled against
Mulder's bicep and wiped his skin and her cheek with
the soft cotton sheet before stealthily moving out of
the bed to stumble to the bathroom.  She and Mulder had
made love twice since her arrival at his apartment just
after midnight and, if she had her way, they might just
try for a third.  Their night had been their way of
coping with the closing of the X-Files, the sudden end
to Mulder's dream which had gradually become hers.
They hadn't found any answers to what they would do,
where they would go next; hadn't even really tried.
Instead, they lost themselves in each other, telling
each other that whatever happened, they would be okay
together.

Scully crawled back into bed, her teeth freshly
brushed, wondering if a minty kiss from her would
temper Mulder's morning breath---although, she really
didn't care.  He was still sound asleep; flat on his
back, the sheet barely covering his crotch, both of his
arms spread wide, dead to the world for all intents and
purposes, but absolutely gorgeous to her eyes.  She
slid in next to him, her lips softly covering his left
nipple as her hand crept down his stomach to the hair
covering him between his legs.  He stirred when her
hand made contact with his sex and she smiled against
his chest.

"Thought that might wake you up," she said softly to
him as she watched his eyes struggle for focus.  "Hi,"
she whispered when his eyes finally located hers.  "I
thought for a moment there you were unconscious."

"I think I was...you wore me out," he smiled, reaching
for her with one arm, encouraging her to move on top of
him.  She obliged, scooting up, slipping her hands
under his shoulders as she slid her leg over his waist
to straddle him.  He wrapped his arms around her,
holding her loosely, thinking to himself how absolutely
perfect her body felt against his.  "You've already
been up."

"How do you figure that?" she smiled, giving him a soft
kiss.

"I smell your toothpaste.  I am... I was an
investigator with the FBI, you know," he said,
seemingly just remembering that he wasn't exactly sure
what his position was anymore.  Scully could see his
realization, her own having evaded her for the night as
well.

"We'll be okay, Mulder," she said against his lips, not
sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself; a
little of both, she figured.

But they hadn't been...

LONGSTREET MOTEL
WASHINGTON, DC
Two months later
Mulder stared at the reels of the tape recorder,
rolling another sunflower seed against his tongue, his
pen tapping a monotonous beat, a physical display of
his thoughts... his emotions.  He had been assigned yet
another wiretap case, #5A21147 to be exact.  A couple
of supposed embezzlers droned on and on and were
divulging nothing more than how much money they had
slipped a lap dancer the previous night.

This was his fourth 'white bread' case since the XFiles
had been closed and he knew it was punishment; knew it
was a concerted effort to make him leave the Bureau.
But he had been determined to hang on, to outlast them
just to spite them if for no other reason. And he had
tolerated their punishment; tolerated it beyond what
those who were watching him figured he would...could.
He had tolerated it as long as he had had Scully.  But
now that she was gone...

F.B.I. ACADEMY
QUANTICO, VIRGINIA
The same day
"It is advantageous to begin an autopsy with removal of
the cranium..." Scully continued, her voice reflecting
her lack of concentration, her rote expression of her
knowledge now as boring to her as she was sure it was
to her students.  But as she looked at the faceless
cadaver, she felt something she realized she had begun
to forget.  The body she used as nothing more than a
classroom example was a person; a person who had been
someone's husband, someone's son, a brother to a
grieving sister.  This person had once had hopes and
dreams, had once laughed at a good joke, enjoyed a cup
of coffee with a friend...Scully thought to herself.

"Something wrong?" a cadet finally asked, breaking
Scully from her silent lament.

Without looking at her, without looking at any of them,
Scully found herself suddenly expressing what her heart
was feeling.  "What this man imagined...his
dreams...who he loved, saw...heard...remembered.  What
he feared...  Somehow it's all locked in this small
mass of tissue and fluid..." she said, her voice
faltering as she began to comprehend what she knew she
was really saying to herself.

"Are you okay, Agent Scully?  You kinda sounded a
little spooky," the cadet told her, the young woman's
words saying more than she could've ever realized, the
use of her last word shaking Scully to her core.

"You'll have to excuse me," Scully said, holding on to
the stainless steel table to steady herself, her
emotions at the moment making her feel unsteady, her
heart irregular.  "I... I..." she stuttered.  "I'll see
you tomorrow morning.  Class dismissed."

Scully couldn't manage anymore.  After being partnered
with Mulder for a year, their partnership evolving into
the most intense love affair she could've ever
imagined, she knew she couldn't continue with things
the way they were. Life was too short and could be over
in an instant.  She had known that with her father, her
experience with the X-Files and Mulder's near death
episodes, her relationship with him.  She needed him,
knew she had to talk to Mulder...

After they had gone back to work after their weekend
together and the closing of the X-Files, their new
assignments had separated them physically; Scully sent
to Quantico to teach the greenest of the new cadets,
Mulder assigned to cases that any monkey could work.
But their personal relationship had suffered even more.

As Mulder became more and more frustrated and unhappy,
his darker side had surfaced, a side she had only seen
flashes of in their year together.  No matter how she
tried to talk to him or tried to sooth his worry, he
just seemed to sink deeper and deeper into himself.
"I've been told people are watching us, Scully.  I
think it would be better if I just worked this out
alone," he had told her the night he had 'officially'
ended their personal relationship, about a month after
the FBI had ended their professional one.  He knew it
was a flimsy excuse, but he kept telling himself it was
for the best; the best for her.

"Mulder, you can't do this alone--I can't do this
alone!" she had told him, raising her voice.  "We NEED
each other."

"You don't need me the way I am, Scully.  You deserve
more," he told her, unable to look at her.  "Your
association with me will only get you into trouble
now." Mulder told himself he needed to let her go and
had told her in a fairly unceremonious way that he
wanted to end their personal relationship.  She had
only wasted a year of her life with him, he had told
himself, and he loved her so much that he would live
without her for her own good.  He had told himself he
could do that, too.

Scully had been so hurt that she had exited his
apartment in anger, but had cried for three solid days
without talking to him or him contacting her.  Finally,
on the fourth day, Mulder had telephoned her, his voice
soft and sad, but confirming that he didn't want them
to see each other outside of work anymore.  And they
hadn't.  Not until the day she had realized that she
had a previous life that she had enjoyed that she could
still have again; an option that the cadaver in her
classroom no longer had.

WATERGATE HOTEL & OFFICE COMPLEX
PARKING GARAGE
WASHINGTON, DC
Later that night
"It's dangerous for us to just have a little chat,
Scully.  We must assume we're being watched," he told
her coldly, looking around the dark garage for anything
suspicious... and as a way to avoid looking into her
eyes.

"Mulder, I haven't seen any indication..."

"No, no.  Of course not.  These people are the best,"
he told her, his irritation at her foolhardy request
for a meeting beginning to show.

Scully assured him she had taken the necessary
precautions to avoid being followed, a bit irritated
that he would have thought she wouldn't have been
careful enough when asking him to meet her.  "The X
Files have been terminated, Mulder.  We have been
reassigned," she sighed.  "What makes you think they
care about us anymore anyway?"

"So why have you bothered to come here covertly?" he
asked her then, finally turning to look at her.

Scully looked at him then, her voice softening when she
saw how sad his eyes were.  "Because I realized that it
was the only way that you would see me..."

They both looked at each other, both missing each
other, but neither able to say what they wanted to.
"So, what do you want?" he asked, a coldness still in
his voice.

"To know that you're alright.  Mulder, you passed me
today within a foot..., but you were miles away," she
said softly, her voice pleading with him to see what he
was doing to himself, and to her.  He nodded slowly,
but said nothing until he changed the subject, began
telling her about his lousy new assignments, his theory
about George Ellery Hale and, finally, his
disappointments that he had nothing to show for his
work.  She could see his defeat, his feelings of
failure in his whole body.

"Don't give up..." she told him softly, both of them
seeing their connection still in each others eyes.
"And next time, we meet out in the open," she said,
touching his hair softly before moving to leave.

Scully had thought maybe things were improving between
them after their meeting; Mulder hadn't been totally
resistive to her efforts to talk.  But the next day,
she had been called into to Director Skinner's office
and had been questioned about Mulder's presumed
disappearance and his failure to show up for his
assignment.

Her next three days had been spent on tracking him
down, which she did, finding him chasing aliens in
Puerto Rico.  They had very nearly been gunned down,
but were able to, again, escape with their lives, but
no closer to having any of the proof that Mulder so
needed.  Mulder had been surprised that she was able to
track him and locate him in another country, but he had
also been proud of her ability.  The situation had only
served to reinforce to Scully how obsessed Mulder could
become and that she would always come second to his
work.

But she had also been buoyed, had been given a reason
to hope that, with time, maybe they could have what
they once had.  "I may not have the X-Files, Scully,
but I still have my work," he had told her.  "And I
still have you..."

They had begun to see each other again, well at work,
at least.  The X-Files had remained closed, but Scully
had performed a couple of autopsies for cases Mulder
was working on.  Only Mulder could've found a case
involving a suspect who had been a nuclear mutated
fluke worm/man.  Working together on that case had
almost felt like old times and she had told him so.

Scully had gone to a small town in Pennsylvania to help
him on a case involving residents who suddenly turned
violent seemingly, when prompted by digital readouts
telling them to kill.  The two of them had gotten along
well, their ability to work together as they had before
surprising them both.  They had both silently been
afraid that their professional relationship could never
be the same after being together in a personal
relationship, and an intense one at that.

Mulder had been assigned a new partner and Scully had
gotten bad vibes about him from the moment she met him.
She supposed some of it was jealousy, but she knew most
of it was because she didn't trust the man and was
fearful of him not being there when Mulder needed him.
She had always had Mulder's back.

Some of Mulder's witty repartee and his inability to
pass up an opportunity to make a double entendre had
returned, to a degree.  He had even flirted a bit.
Mulder and his new partner, Alex Krycek, had been
assigned a case involving ex-soldiers who had been
deprived of sleep by what had appeared to be a
government sponsored program. Mulder must have
telephoned her fifty times during his investigation,
asking her questions, consulting with her about his
theories, sometimes just wanting to talk.

"Sounds like your new partner is working out," Scully
spoke lightly, but feeling apprehensive inside.

"He's alright.  He could use a little more seasoning
and some wardrobe advice, but he's a lot more open to
extreme possibilities than..."

"Than I was?" she interjected.

"Than I assumed he would be," Mulder finished, both of
them smiling on their respective ends of the phone.

"Must be nice not having someone questioning your every
move, poking holes in all your theories," Scully softly
kidded him, not admitting to herself that she was
fearful there might be some truth to her statement.

Mulder grinned, sensing her true feelings and finding
some comfort in them in some kind of way.  "Oh, oh
yeah, it's great. I...I'm surprised I put up with you
for so long," he teased back.

Scully smiled to herself, feeling in so many ways how
deeply she missed him, sensing...hoping that he missed
her, too.  She didn't respond for a few long seconds,
needing a deep breath before continuing.  "You better
go..." she told him, both of them hanging up with so
much more to say.  God, she missed him.

But by the end of the case, both of them realized they
were indeed being watched.  Mulder suspicioned that his
new partner had taken an envelope from his car that
Mulder had received from his new informant.  And
someone had broken into Scully's office, gotten into
her files, her computer and taken her copy of the same
information.  "Someone went to a lot of trouble
stealing both our copies to keep this a secret," Mulder
had told her when he had asked to meet her in a
basement storage area in the bowels of Hoover.  "He
said it's never been more dangerous..." Mulder told her
of his new informant, their eyes never leaving each
others' as Mulder spoke.  "He said that closing down
the X-Files was just the beginning; that we've never
been in greater danger."

All the while the two of them thought they were meeting
privately, safely, Mulder's new partner was reporting
his findings to those who had been watching.  "What
about Scully?" the man asked through a haze of
cigarette smoke.

"Reassigning them to other sections seems only to have
strengthened their determination.  Scully's a problem;
a much larger problem than you described," Krycek told
him.

"Every problem has a solution..." the answer floated
through the lingering smoke.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, DC
May, Several days later
Scully hadn't seen Mulder since their meeting in the
basement, hadn't even had a phone call.  She had left
him a voice message earlier in the day, hoping he would
call back.  She had finished her classes early for a
Friday and had done a bit of shopping and bought a
couple of books for the weekend.  She had finished a
quiet dinner alone and had retired to her couch to dive
into her reading, expecting to spend most of the
weekend doing very little of nothing and actually
looking forward to it, or at least, that's what she
told herself.

The ringing of the phone startled her from her reading,
her mind immediately wondering who would be calling at
the relatively late hour.  "Hi, Scully.  It's me," his
deep low voice said to her.

"Mulder?  Is everything alright?" she asked, detecting
an odd tone to his voice.

"It will be if you let me in," he told her simultaneous
to his tap on her door.  Scully smiled to herself at
her realization that he was just outside her apartment,
but then she immediately wondered if something was
wrong.  Hanging up her phone before moving across the
room, she took the sight of him in as she opened the
door.

"Hi..." she said as she moved back, indicating to him
to come in.

"Hi," he said, almost staring at her as he entered her
apartment.

"Come on in," Scully told him, moving to the living
room to sit, still watching him skeptically, wondering
just what he was doing there.  He sat on the couch,
wondering why she was still looking at him so oddly.
"You sure everything is okay, Mulder?"

"Yeah, yeah.  I just wanted to see with my own eyes
that you were okay," he told her, knowing she would
find his concern just further evidence of his paranoia.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be?" she asked.

"I just had this weird feeling earlier... I just... I
just wanted to check," he told her, now seeming
embarrassed for his reason for coming to her apartment.

"Talk to me, Mulder," she told him, beginning to tire
somewhat of his cryptic explanations.

Mulder looked at her, one of her legs crossed over the
other, her hair scrunched on top of her head in some
clip of some sort, her body fully relaxed into the
upholstery of the overstuffed chair across the room
from his place on her couch.  The closing of the XFiles
had been devastating to him, but he had realized that
letting that event effectively end his relationship
with Scully had just been like killing him twice.  He
figured she was done with him; would chalk their affair
up to experience and as a reminder to herself to never
get involved with a co-worker again.

"Scully..." he began, then stopped suddenly when he
noticed that she had closed her eyes and seemed to be
trying hard not to... to cry, he thought.  "What?
What's the matter?" he asked, leaning forward, his
forearms resting on his knees, his face saddened that
he had upset her in some way.

Scully leaned her head against the back of the chair,
taking a deep breath before opening her eyes to look at
him, a single tear slipping over her lid down her
flushed cheek.  She recognized the tone in his voice
when he had said her name; remembered the timbre
vibrating against the flesh of her ear as he made love
to her.  She knew he was about to say something that
she wasn't sure she could handle hearing.  She had just
gotten to the point where she could be around him and
his proximity wouldn't make her heart ache for what
they used to have.

"Mulder, please don't say anything unless you mean it,"
she pleaded, her voice almost a whisper.

"Scully, the only thing that I have ever said to you
that I didn't mean was when I told you I didn't think
we should be with each other anymore..." he told her
bluntly, then just looked at her, waiting for her
reaction.

"Oh, God..." she sighed, not even realizing she had
said anything out loud.  She looked at him, the
expression on his face one that she remembered; one
that told her he was letting her back into his soul.
"Mulder, don't do this to me unless you intend to stand
by your words...forever.  I won't play around anymore.
It's all or nothing for me."

"I was so afraid that you were going to be hurt,
Scully... because of your association with me.  I never
stopped caring for you... loving you," he said,
wringing his hands where they had settled between his
knees.  "You were right, Scully.  We can't do this
alone.  If we're going to continue, it has to be
together," he finished, looking to her for her
response.

She took a deep breath, looking into his eyes and even
though she saw deep sincerity, she was still fearful
that his commitment might be fleeting.  That was
Mulder; always on to the next big thing and she didn't
want that mentality to be part of their personal
relationship.  "Mulder, I, I want to continue... with
our work... with, with us.  But you... I'm afraid..."

"You're afraid of me?"

"In a way..." she started, knowing she had probably
hurt his feelings and not meaning to.  "Even if it's
for one of your noble reasons, I'm afraid that you'll
leave again.  I need more this time... a commitment, a
promise that you will not act separately from me, make
decisions that concern me without talking to me first.
I can't stand surprises, Mulder."

He nodded, knowing full well what she meant.  He had
ended their relationship earlier and had taken that
decision totally upon himself, not even being honest
with her why he was ending things.  She didn't like
being protected; being seen as less than able to handle
things that came their way.  "I know what you're
saying.  I do.  I understand.  It was a bad decision,
even if it was for the right reason.  I'll try my best.
That, I promise you," he told her, giving her that
skewed smile that could always melt her heart.

"That's all I ask," she said.  Mulder moved over to
her, bending to give her a soft kiss, a kiss he tried
to intensify until she moved back from him.  "We need
to start this slow, Mulder.  I need time to get used to
you again.  You can be a bit intense, you know," she
smiled to him.

"Yeah, that's what I hear."  He stood, reaching out for
her hand.  "Walk me to the door," he told her and she
complied, both of them kissing before he departed.  She
smiled to herself as she went back to her couch,
picking up her book, trying to read, but her thoughts
staying on the man who she knew was her life.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, DC
Two days later
"Mulder, it's me.  I just had something incredibly
strange happen," she said into the phone, her message
being recorded by Mulder's answering machine.  "This
piece of metal that they took out of Duane Barry...it
has some kind of a code on it.  I ran it through a
scanner and some kind of a serial number came up," she
continued, her voice breathy from her fear.  "What the
hell is this thing, Mulder?  It's almost as if... it's
almost as if somebody was using it to catalog him."
Scully stopped suddenly, hearing something outside her
window, even over the loud sounds of the continuing
rainstorm.  She held onto the phone, moving to open the
blinds to look out her window, wondering what the noise
could be.  Her gasp was audible, the lightening
flashing as if on cue revealing Duane Barry staring at
her just on the other side of the glass, the absolute
fright shaking every fiber of her being.

"Mulder!  I need your help!!!  Mulderrrrrrrrrrr!!!"
Scully yelled into the phone.  "Mulderrrr!!!" she
yelled again, his machine recording every word, her
voice clear and desperate amid the sounds of breaking
glass and toppling furniture---and the forceful voice
of the crazed man who was attacking her.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
11:46pm
"Mrs. Scully?" Mulder said as he moved toward Scully's
mother having heard her anguished pleas to enter her
daughter's apartment.  Mulder reached for her, and then
noticed the blood on his fingers at virtually the same
time it was noticed by Scully's mother.  They both knew
it was Scully's.  "She's not in there," Mulder told her
softly.

Mrs. Scully noticed the sad, scared look on Mulder's
face and stepped back, looking him in the eye before
speaking.  "Where is she?" she asked fearfully.  "Where
IS she?"

That, of course, was a question Mulder couldn't answer.
And a question he wouldn't be able to even guess at for
a long, long time.  Mulder had searched for Duane Barry
for days, with no sleep and little food, finally
locating Scully's captor, alone, and gleeful that
Scully had been 'taken' in his place.  Barry had
claimed that he had been taken repeatedly by aliens
over the course of his life and he had 'given' them
Scully in a trade for him never being taken again.

Mulder had given credence to Barry's ideas, but was
never really able to explore them further with him when
Barry had ended up dead, probably at the hands of
Mulder's new 'partner', Alex Krycek.  And after Krycek
had mysteriously disappeared and after any leads Mulder
had about Scully's whereabouts had dried up, Mulder had
retreated into himself further than he ever had before.

Mulder had taken a leave from the FBI, not sure if he
would ever return.  Actually, he didn't really know why
he did.  But he had nothing.  He didn't have the X-
Files and he didn't have Scully.  She had been taken,
and after all this time, he gut-wrenchingly figured,
she had probably been killed, or worse, taken where his
sister had been taken; and all because of her
association with him.  He should've stayed away from
her; never renewed their relationship, he told himself
over and over again.

TIDAL BASIN
WASHINGTON, DC
One week later
Mulder had called her, just wanting to talk and feeling
he owed her the truth.  "Agent Mulder?  Thank you for
calling me," Mrs. Scully said to him.  He stood from
his place on the park bench, the look on his face
telling her everything.

"I'm sorry I don't have better news," Mulder admitted
to her.

"Do you know something?  Is Dana okay?" she asked
quickly, hoping there was some kind of news.

"We don't know anything more about it," he said, the
sadness in his soul as much as he could bear.  Mrs.
Scully sighed, her knowing sadness apparent in her
every motion.

"I know you're doing all you can."  They both sat on
the bench, not saying anything for several long
moments, neither of them able to look at the other.

"I had that dream again last night...about Dana being
taken away.  I can't tell you how it scares me," she
told him, Mulder seeing the profound sadness in her
expression.

"It's probably scarier when you STOP having the dream,"
Mulder told her matter-of-factly...or so he thought.
But his words had struck her; made her realize that he
was right; that maybe there was a reason she was still
dreaming about her daughter.  "Don't you think?"  Mrs.
Scully looked at him and smiled, finding comfort in the
fact that Mulder had not given up, but unable to
contain her tears.

Mulder reached into his pocket and offered Scully's
chain to her mother, hoping that she would find some
comfort in this small belonging.  "Found this," he said
softly, placing the gold cross in Mrs. Scully's palm.
"It's something I'm...I never considered about her.
She was...um... if she was such a skeptic, why did she
wear that?"

Mrs. Scully composed herself, swallowing hard as she
gazed at the small piece of her daughter's life that
lay in the palm of her hand.  "I gave it to her on her
fifteenth birthday."  Mulder watched her, but she was
unable to look at him.  But then she reached over to
him, handing the necklace back to him, placing it in
his hand.

Surprised, Mulder questioned her.  "Don't you want to
keep it?"  Mrs. Scully closed his hand with hers,
holding on, giving his hand a trusting squeeze before
finally looking him directly in the eyes.

"When you find her, you give it to her," she managed to
say to him through her choked tears.  He knew she was
counting on him... knew the two of them now had a bond
that would last for the rest of their lives.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VA
November, 1994, 11:43pm
Mulder lay on the couch, the light of the flickering of
the porno movie playing on his television casting a
haunting shadow over his eyes.  He had stopped and
rewound the same scene over and over, watching a man
and a woman pretending they were climaxing together,
acting as if they were in ecstasy.  He remembered what
pure ecstasy had been and there was no pretense; it
happened every time he had been with Scully.  Scully...
Only with Scully...

Mulder had searched every lead and then some and had
found nothing.  He felt like he had been in a maze with
no way out and that Scully was at the end, waiting for
him, praying that he'd find her.  He had gone back to
work, not really knowing what to do, taking a case in
Los Angeles that did nothing but make him more
depressed, make him long for Scully even more.  And he
had been stupid; sleeping with a woman that he knew had
exchanged blood with various others.  He didn't care.
Hell, maybe that's why he'd slept with her, hoping that
he would die; die a long, horrible lingering death.  At
least he'd be with Scully...

Mulder was startled from his viewing by the ringing of
the telephone, immediately having a reaction that he
had been 'caught' doing something he shouldn't.  He
gave thought to not answering it.  He knew that the
only one that he really wanted to talk to would not be
on the other end of the line.  But he did answer it,
and he got the call he had almost lost hope he would
ever get.

"Mr. Mulder?" the unfamiliar man's voice asked.

"Who's asking?" Mulder said, the bored tone in his
voice apparent to the stranger.

"Mr. Mulder, this is Dr. Daly from Northeast Georgetown
Medical Center and I've been asked to call you," the
man said calmly.

Mulder sat up, not knowing why his heart had begun to
beat rapidly and his breath became shallow.  "Yes..."
Mulder responded tentatively.

"Margaret Scully has asked me to tell you that Dana has
returned.  We have her here at the Medical Center."
Mulder didn't answer; didn't turn off the phone; didn't
grab a coat, just grabbed his car keys and ran from his
apartment.  Scully...

NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER
WASHINGTON, DC
12:06am
Mulder entered the hospital calmly, going in search of
the intensive care unit at a normal pace.  But he
couldn't continue that way, beginning to jog down the
hall the closer he got to where Scully was.  As soon as
he saw the door, he began to run in earnest, ignoring
the warning of the nurse who nonsensically told him he
couldn't go in.

As soon as he burst through the doors he saw her, her
lifeless body laying flat, tubes and wires and tape
covering every part of her face and then some.  He
moved to the side of the bed, bending to look at her,
wanting so badly to kiss her, to climb in the bed and
hold her. Then he saw Scully's mother, sitting next to
the bed, one of Scully's hands in both of hers.  She
didn't look away from her daughter, didn't even
acknowledge that she had even noticed him enter. Mulder
started to ask her what had happened, but after seeing
her sad, intense expression, he went in search of the
information he so desperately needed.

"Who brought her here?  How did she get here?  How did
she get here?!!  Was it paramedics?  FBI?  Military?"
Mulder demanded, yelling at the nurse and Dr. Dailey.
His anger just exploded; his anger at the injustice of
everything that had happened to Scully, at the bastards
who would do such a thing... at himself for putting her
at risk.

Mulder had been removed from the ICU, 'escorted' away
until he calmed and begged to be allowed to return to
see Scully.  Her condition was reported as terminal to
him and he and Scully's mother knew that she didn't
want to live in the condition she was currently in, but
he couldn't bring himself to give up.  He needed to see
her and went to her room to spend some time alone with
her.

When he entered her room, he found a woman standing
near Scully's bed, a crystal suspended from her hand,
her eyes closed in apparent meditation.  Mulder looked
at her for a moment, the woman finally smiling before
opening her eyes to look at him.  "I've been told not
to call you 'Fox'," she said by way of greeting.

"By who?" Mulder asked suspiciously, the sound of
Scully's respirator keeping an eerie time.

"Dana... Just now," the woman told him.

"Dana talked to you just now?" he asked skeptically,
not really knowing what to make of this woman.  "If she
talked, the EEG would've moved."

The woman laughed a slight laugh at her perception of
his ignorance.  "No, her soul is here," she said before
she noticed Mrs. Scully enter the room.  "Hi, Mom," she
said softly.

"I'm glad you could come, Melissa," her mother said
softly, her emotional and physical weariness more than
apparent in her voice.

"You're Scully's sister?" Mulder asked, not having an
inkling that that was who the mysterious woman would
turn out to be.

"Dana's choosing whether to remain or move on," she
said then, her mother tired and resistive to Scully's
sister's new age beliefs.  She tried to get Mulder to
understand; to believe what she was feeling, but he
couldn't.

"She's not here," Mulder told her, unable to just stand
idly by and see Scully in her current state.  He had to
do more than wave his hands in the air he had told her
and exited the hospital to try to find a clue, any
clue, about what had been done to Scully.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLLINGTON, VA
Three days later
Mulder had found essentially nothing.  The Gunmen had
told him there was no hope, his informant had killed
the man who may have had any clue to what was done to
Scully and he was despondent, ready to murder for
revenge for what was done to her.  Mulder was told the
men responsible would be coming to his apartment that
night and he was sitting in his dark apartment holding
his gun waiting for their arrival.  He startled when he
heard a soft knock at his door, unsure of who it could
be, knowing it was too early for the visitors for whom
he waited.  He answered the door, finding Scully's
sister on the other side.

"I just came from the hospital.  Dr. Daly says... she's
weakening... it could be anytime," Melissa struggled to
say.  "So I figured you'd want to come down and see
her."

"Well, I can't," Mulder said, unable to think about
this being the end, wanting his revenge instead.

"Well, I think that you would," Melissa told him, her
irritation at his mystery and evasiveness obvious.

"Yeah, I would.  I can't.  Not right now," he told her
impatiently.  They argued then, Melissa tiring of his
apparent self-centeredness, Mulder tiring of her new
age ramblings and telling her so.  But her last words
hit him hard.

"Why is it so much easier for you to run around trying
to get even than just expressing to her how you feel?
I expect more from you---Dana expects more!" she told
him angrily, moving to leave.  But before she exited,
she gave him words that hit him hard.  "Even if it
doesn't bring her back, at least she'll know.  And so
will you."  Mulder knew she was right; knew Scully
would feel him there, no matter where her soul was...
and telling her how much he felt suddenly became more
important than any revenge could ever be.

NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER
WASHINGTON, DC
When Mulder entered her room, she looked almost
peaceful, most of the tubes and wires removed, her
respirator now gone.  He sat next to her bed, taking
her hand before speaking.  "I feel, Scully, that... you
believe you're not ready to go.  And you've always had
the strength of your beliefs," he said softly to her,
his breath catching in his throat.  "I don't know if my
being here... will help... bring you back... but I'm
here."  He sat with her through the night, never
leaving her side.

"Fox?" Margaret's voice woke him from his brief doze.

"Hi, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said, Margaret moving around
the bed to stand in front of him.

"Have you been here all night?" she asked him softly.

He nodded slowly, moving his head to look around her to
glance at Scully.  "Most of it."

Even though Margaret was losing her youngest daughter,
she suddenly felt sorrier for Mulder than she did
herself.  She touched his hair, petting him softly as
he hung his head, fighting tears.  Margaret turned to
look back at her daughter, her form as lifeless as
someone could be and still be breathing.  "She knows
you're here with her," she told him, leaving the room
and the two of them together.

Mulder stayed through most of the night, sometimes
holding her hand, sometimes talking to her, sometimes
just sitting there.  Finally, Margaret had sent him
home, not giving him much alternative.  When he'd
gotten to his apartment, he found it ransacked, knowing
that those he had been waiting for had come while he
had been at Scully's side.  He hadn't been surprised by
what he'd found, but feeling so alone and like such a
failure.  He'd failed to protect Scully and he wasn't
even able to make those who had harmed her pay for what
they'd done.

He walked slowly into his apartment, finally slumping
against the door jamb, his grief finally overtaking him
as he sobbed into his hands.  He sat like that for
several long minutes, his body finally too exhausted to
go on.  He shoved everything on his couch to the floor
before removing his jacket and dropping it there as
well.  As soon as he'd hit the couch, he'd fallen
asleep in his clothes, his weariness over taking him.

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep before he
woke, sitting up to try to get his bearings.  His mind
barely seemed to want to work.  Suddenly, the sound of
his ringing phone startled him, his dread at what news
he might hear when he answered the phone taking his
breath.  He let it ring a couple of times, letting his
machine catch it first.  'Hello, this is Fox Mulder.
Leave a message--' it said into the dark before he
picked up, knowing he had to answer, had to face what
he feared he would hear on the other end of his phone.
"I'm here," he responded defeatedly.

"Mulder, its Melissa... You need to come to the
hospital.  She's awake," Scully's sister told him, a
smile finding its way to his face.  "She... she's
asking to see you."

Mulder had practically flown to the hospital, suddenly
unsure of what to say or do when he saw her.  He
slipped into the hospital gift shop to pick up a
bouquet, but then changed his mind, selecting a
different gift instead.  He had to ask at the desk
where her room was since she'd been moved from her
place in the intensive care section.  When he'd located
her room, he could feel his breath shorten, both from
excitement and apprehension.  Was she really okay?
Would she be herself?  Was she in any pain?  He didn't
know how he'd find her.

Continued in Part 2

Feedback welcomed at philer@onemain.com


TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 2
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK:  Welcomed at philer@onemain.com.

NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER
WASHINGTON, DC
When he'd entered her room, her sister was sitting on
the edge of her bed, holding her hand, a sight that
initially scared him.  But when Melissa stood and moved
away from the bed, he could see Scully and see that she
was smiling even though her face was turned toward her
mother who was sitting on the other side of her bed.
"Hello, Fox," Margaret smiled to him.

"Not Fox... Mulder," Scully said, bringing a smile to
everyone's face in the room.  She turned toward him,
looking at him with a smile that he feared he would
never again witness.  He wanted to kiss her, wanted to
crawl into bed next to her and never let go.  But he
didn't.  They just looked at each other for several
long seconds before he finally spoke, "How ya feelin'?"

"Mulder, I don't remember anything," her voice weak and
coarse.  "After Duane Barry..." she said, Mulder taken
aback that she seemed to be apologizing for not being
able to remember what had exactly happened to her.

He shook his head, not wanting her to feel that she had
anything to apologize for, especially not to him.  He
had been the one who was unable to find her in time to
save her.  "It doesn't... it doesn't matter..." he
reassured her.  She closed her eyes and he could see
that just speaking a few words seemed to take as much
energy as she had.  He felt inept, wanting to say so
much, but seemingly, unable to say anything of worth.
"Brought you a present," he said instead, opening his
bag from the gift shop.  "Superstars of the
Superbowls."  He handed her a video tape, hoping that
she would understand what he was trying to convey.

And Scully did understand what he was trying to convey
to her; that life would go on and they'd be alright.
"I knew there was a reason to live," she quietly
teased, looking toward her mother with a smile, but her
fatigue seemed to be overwhelming her.  She was
surprised when Mulder took her hand, not suspecting
that he would do so in front of her sister and mother.
He wasn't like that.  "I know you wanna get some rest,"
he said softly, his thumb caressing the back of her
hand.  "I... just came by to see how you were doin'...
to say 'hi'."  He took her hand in both of his, giving
it a soft squeeze before he turned to leave, his
emotions about to get the best of him.

"Mulder..." she said softly and he turned back to look
at her.  "I had the strength of your beliefs."  Her
look told him that she had so much more to say, that
she needed to say.  His gaze settled on her for a few
moments before he nodded, touched by what she had said.
Then he remembered one of the other reasons he came by
to see her.  He dug around in his pockets until he
located her cross and necklace that he had been wearing
while she was gone.  When Margaret realized what he had
retrieved from his pocket, she remembered their day on
the bench, wanting to believe that one day he would
give her daughter's cross back to her, but, admittedly,
unsure that he would ever be able to.

"I was holding this for you," he told her as he handed
the gold chain to her.  Scully had forgotten about her
cross, but when she saw that he had been keeping it for
her, she could barely temper her feelings.  She turned
to look at her mother, seeing the deep emotion in her
eyes, both of them remembering the sentiment behind the
small object.

"Thanks," Scully's voice no more than a whisper, but
her expression making him smile.  And in his last
glance at her, she saw in his gaze a promise he would
be back when they could be alone.

Her mother and sister hadn't stayed too much longer,
letting her get some much needed rest.  She had slept
for several hours and had woken thinking about the
nurse she had fondly remembered from her time in
intensive care.  But when she'd asked about locating
her, she was unsettled to find out there was no such
person.  Had this woman been a figment of her
imagination?  A dream?  Her guardian angel?  She knew
that many people were watching over her.  That was the
only reason she was alive; she knew that.  That and the
fact that she had the strength that Mulder had given
her in the relatively short time she had known him. Her
belief that she would see him again had given her
strength she wasn't sure she would've had if she didn't
know him.

Scully had fallen asleep again fairly easily, having
very little strength to do much else.  She wasn't yet
able to get out of bed and she was only allowed clear
liquids to eat.  But, she didn't seem to have much
appetite anyway.

When Mulder entered her room, he found her asleep;
glancing at his watch realizing it was almost midnight.
He thought about not disturbing her, but his need to be
with her ruled out that idea fairly quickly.  He sat on
the edge of her bed near her hip, the movement of the
mattress stirring her.  It took her a moment to focus,
but when she realized it was him, she suddenly felt
totally awake.  "Hi..." she smiled to him.

"Sorry I woke you," he smiled back.

"No you aren't," she teased quietly, taking his hand in
hers.  "I'm glad you came back."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, noting that she didn't
look much differently than she had before she was
taken, except that her hair was longer.

"Better now," she smiled to him again.  She couldn't
seem to take enough of him in, not wanting to take her
eyes off of him.  "Actually, I feel okay.  Just tired."

Mulder reached toward her, stroking his hand over her
head, "Your hair is so long...  I like it."

"Yeah...  I, um, was a little shocked to find out how
long I'd been gone.  It, um, seems like I just woke up
from a short nap," she told him, her voice sad.

"Not to me," Mulder said softly, his voice almost
cracking.

Scully reached for him as she could, her weakness
affecting her motor ability.  "Come here," she said
softly to him, wanting to hold him and have him hold
her.  He bent over her, his arms sliding under her to
hold her as he buried his face into the contour of her
neck.  He was holding her so tightly it was
uncomfortable, but she didn't tell him so, just wanting
to feel him again.  Then she realized he was crying,
sobbing actually, seemingly unable to control himself.
"I'm here, Mulder.  I'm okay..." she comforted.

"I've missed you so much," he said, his words muffled
into her hair.  "I was so afraid I'd never see you
again."  She held on to him, his strong grip on her
still uncomfortable.  She was trying to scan her
memory, her remembrances of the time just prior to her
abduction not totally clear to her.  How had she and
Mulder left things?

"Mulder..." she said, wanting to talk to him about
everything that had happened while she was gone.

"I'll never forgive myself for what happened to you,
Scully," he said, finally letting go of her to sit up,
still holding on to her hands.

"Mulder, none of this was your fault.  None of it," she
said strongly to him.  "The only ones to blame are the
people who took me."

Mulder could see that she meant every word, that she
didn't blame him.  But he still felt responsible; felt
overwhelming guilt that he couldn't protect her from
whomever or whatever abducted her.  "Scully, do you
remember...?"

"I don't remember anything... I think I remember Duane
Barry in my apartment..." she explained, wishing she
had some memory of what had happened to her.  "Was he?"

Mulder nodded, the sight of her destroyed apartment
splattered with blood coming back to him.  "That's all
you remember?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't say that, Scully.  You have nothing to apologize
for.  Jesus, I'm just glad you're here," he said,
gripping her hands tighter.  "I can't believe I'm
sitting here talking to you."

Scully smiled at him, thinking the same thing.  "I'm
really tired, Mulder.  I'd like nothing more than to
spend the rest of the night talking with you, but my
stamina is about zip."

Mulder could see how much energy it seemed to take her
just to speak.  "I'll go... let you get some rest."  He
bent to give her a kiss, a soft peck just next to her
mouth.  "I'll, um, check on you tomorrow, if that's
okay."

"I'd like that," she said, barely able to keep her eyes
open.  She held onto his hand as he stood, only letting
go when he walked far enough away from her that she
could no longer reach him.  He glanced back at her when
he'd opened the door and could see that she was already
asleep.

NORTHEAST GEORGETOWN MEDICAL CENTER
WASHINGTON, DC
Ten days later
"So, they're letting you go?" Mulder asked, Scully
sitting in the chair next to her bed when he'd entered.

"Yeah..." she smiled.  She had been through extensive
physical therapy in the time she had been at the
hospital, the therapists impressed by her progress.
They had told her that the excellent physical condition
she was in prior to her abduction could very well have
made the difference in her living or dying.  The
doctors ran every possible test on her and found
nothing significant other than a few unknown blood
abnormalities but they felt that could be easily
treated with antibiotics and vitamins and dietary
supplements.  "They told me I could go home if I had
someone to stay with me--"

"I'd be glad to," he interjected immediately, wanting
to be there for her, to somehow make up for letting
things happen to her.

"Thank you, Mulder, but Missy said she'd stay with me,"
she told him, surprised, almost shocked by his offer.
He had been to see her every day since she'd returned,
sometimes a couple of times each day, but he had yet to
really show any real physical affection toward her.
He'd hold her hand; give her a soft kiss when he'd
leave, but nothing much beyond what any friend would
do.  She could remember that their relationship had had
its problems but she also thought she remembered that
they had made amends; that they had agreed to try
again.  But, he hadn't given her any reason to believe
that her memories were completely accurate.  He had
been sweet and kind, but hadn't been in the least bit
affectionate, something he was never short on when they
had been involved.

"She can be with you when I'm at work.  I'll stay the
rest of the time," he said to her matter-of-factly,
seemingly not giving her a choice.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to do it," he told her, moving to sit on the
edge of her bed, the topic seemingly finished.  "Can we
leave now or...?"

"As soon as my doctor signs the release forms..."
Suddenly the door opened, both of them hoping for
someone official that was going to discharge her.
"Missy," Scully said, seeing her sister enter the room
instead.

"You ready to go?" her sister asked by way of greeting,
giving Mulder a glance.  "Mom's already at your
apartment.  She's been cleaning for three days."

"She's all set," a nurse said, appearing almost just as
Missy did.  Mulder took her small satchel and Missy
helped the nurse get Scully into a wheelchair.

Mulder waited with Scully while Missy pulled her car up
to the entrance.  "I'll go pick up some things and be
back at your place in a little while," he told her,
Scully still not sure why Mulder was so insistent about
wanting to stay with her.

And he had, knocking on her door only a few hours
later.  Her mother and Missy were there with her,
Scully reclining comfortably against a pile of pillows
on her couch.  "Hello, Fox," her mother said with a
smile.

"Hi," Mulder said, but looking at Missy, busy with
something in the kitchen.  "How's Scully?"

"I'm fine and I'm right here," she answered, letting
them know she was in the room and listening to them act
as if she wasn't.  Mulder took off his coat and walked
over to her, sitting next to her hip on the couch.

"I'll try again... How ya doin'?" he smiled to her.

"It's nice to be home again," she smiled back, now
sorry for her earlier irritation.  But her mother and
sister had been doting on her to the point that she
wanted to scream.  They were trying to be nice, trying
to help, but their efforts were gradually getting on
her nerves.  "You sure you want to stay?"

"Certain."

"What?" Missy asked quickly, hearing their conversation
from the kitchen.

"Mulder's going to stay with me," Scully told her,
Missy moving into the living room, their mother joining
them.

"Dana, I'll be here.  I told you that," Missy said,
still unsure about what she thought of her sister's
partner.

Scully looked at Mulder before answering, letting him
know she'd handle things.  "I'll need you when Mulder
works, Missy.  He'll be with me when he can," Scully
told her sister, her mother looking on.

"That isn't necessary," Missy offered.

"It's Dana's choice, Melissa.  And I feel safe when
he's here with her," Margaret said, worried that
someone might take her daughter again.

And Mulder had lived up to his word, staying every
night with her for the next month, Scully wondering how
he managed not to have one single case that took him
out of town over night.  "This is the off-season for
the paranormal.  Didn't I tell you?" he had explained
her questions away.

From the first day he had stayed with her, he had slept
with her.  He was next to her in bed, but there hadn't
been a hint of anything beyond a soft kiss goodnight.
It wasn't as if she was able to do anything beyond
sleeping once they got into bed, but she just wished
she knew where she stood.

"Dana, talk to him," Missy told her, wondering why her
usually straight forward sister hadn't made a point to
confront Mulder with her questions.

"The thing is... I don't exactly remember where our
relationship was before I was... taken," Scully
explained, still having a difficult time using words
like 'abducted' or 'kidnapped'.

"But he does," Missy answered and Scully knew she was
right.  She would be going back to work soon and she
would be well enough that if either of them wanted to
take things further, she would be able.  She needed to
get her bearings.

Mulder had been treating her as though she would break
and she was growing tired of his doting, knowing she
needed to have a talk with him, whatever the outcome.
Scully had been going to the FBI gym for a couple of
hours each day, usually taking a swim, using the
treadmill.  In the early evening, usually after she and
Mulder finished dinner, they would go for a walk,
Mulder leaving her for awhile to run, then meeting up
with her again before they would go back to her
apartment.  She felt stronger each day and was looking
forward to Dr. Daly releasing her for duty, well, desk
duty at least.

"Mulder, let's just walk tonight... I need to talk to
you," Scully said as he'd helped her on with her coat
as they left her apartment for their nightly ritual.

"Sounds ominous," he said, picking up on her serious
tone.

"I got released to return to work today.  Desk duty,"
she told him, getting to the outside door of her
building first, opening it for herself before he had a
chance to do it.

"You sure you're ready?" he asked sincerely.

"I'm way beyond ready.  Haven't you noticed that I've
been about to climb the walls?" she asked, her hands
stuffed into her pockets.  The air was cold, but not
uncomfortably so; they were dressed well for the
weather.

Mulder smiled, knowing there was probably no good
answer to her question, but gave her one anyway.  "I've
noticed you've been a bit... um... well, is irritable
an okay word to use?" he said, trying to tease her a
bit.

"Probably."

They walked for a while without either of them saying
much, Scully thinking over and over what and how she
wanted to approach what was on her mind.  She decided
the best way was just to say it and get everything out
on the table.  "Mulder, we need to talk about what I
remember and, I guess, what I don't."

"It doesn't matter, Scully.  Whoever did this to you
has long ago covered their tracks.  We couldn't find
them even if we knew where to look," he said
dejectedly.

"That isn't what I mean.  I mean I don't remember,
well, where you and I left off," she said, both of them
still slowly walking, sauntering actually.  "I only
have spotty memories, snippets of things from the day I
was taken and even before that, I think."

"What do you remember, about us, I mean?" he asked
slowly.

"I... seem to remember that we weren't exactly
together... together," she slowly explained, not having
any recent visions of them making love.  "But I don't
think we were apart either.  I know we had been apart,
but, it seems like I remember us... I don't know,
making amends?" she said, a question rather than a
statement.

"Your memories may be better than you think," Mulder
smiled to her, finally taking hold of her hand as they
walked.

"So...?"

"So...  You don't remember me coming by your apartment
the night before... the night before Duane Barry...?"
he asked softly.

Scully thought for several long moments, trying to
visualize the last thing she remembered of her life
before.  "I think I have a memory of you being in my
living room... telling me we couldn't do our work
alone, that we could only do it together," she started.
"And I think we were kissing, but I don't seem to
remember much else."

"Wow, I didn't know my kissing was that memorable,"
Mulder kidded, Scully snickering along with him,
relieved that they were finally talking.  "We, um,
decided to take things slower this time, your words,
not mine."

"I said that?" she smiled.

"You did."

"What the hell was I thinking?" she smiled back,
stopping, slipping her arms around his neck.  "I've
been wrong before," she said, standing on her toes to
kiss him, Mulder's arms reaching around her to pull her
close.  They kissed for several long moments, each of
them enjoying the feelings they had missed for so many
long months.  "Let's go home," Scully sighed, suddenly
overcome with emotion.

After they had returned to Scully's apartment from
their walk, Mulder had gone to take his shower first,
Scully making sure all the lights were out and the
apartment was locked before she got into bed.  She was
somewhat surprised that he came out of the bathroom in
his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, the same thing he'd
been wearing to bed since she'd gotten home from the
hospital.  And she was even more surprised when, again,
he gave her a soft kiss, telling her "Goodnight,
Scully," just like he had each night as well.

Scully thought maybe he was waiting for her to initiate
things, so she turned to him, wrapping her leg over
his, slipping her fingers through his hair.  "I'm not
really sleepy," she smiled to him before giving him a
soft kiss.  "Are you?"

"Scully, I don't think we should be doing anything.  I
mean, I don't think you're strong enough yet," he told
her, his words sounding lame even to himself.

"Mulder, I'm fine.  I've been released by my doctor to
resume normal activity.  And I think making love would
fall right into that category, don't you?" she smiled
to him.

Mulder looked at her for several long moments, not
exactly knowing where to start to explain his hesitancy
to be with her.  He wanted to be more than anything he
could imagine, but knew he needed to be honest with
her.  "I need to tell you something, Scully," he
started.  She noticed his serious expression, sensing
that something was not as it should be with him.

"What's the matter?" she asked, moving to sit up, as
did he, leaning against the headboard.

"I did something really stupid while you were missing,"
he started, barely able to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

"After I searched for you and hit dead ends everywhere,
I, um, kinda fell apart, I guess.  I, uh, took a couple
of months off work..."

"Mulder, you never mentioned anything about this.  Why
didn't you tell me before?" she asked, realizing how
hard her disappearance had been on him.

"After Skinner re-opened the X-Files and I finally came
back to work, I had a case in California; the specifics
are not really important," he began, his words seeming
to catch in his throat, but he continued.  "I could
barely concentrate on the work, wondering if I'd ever
be able to really continue on with anything.  I, um,
there was a suspect in the case I was working... a
woman."

And that one word made Scully's stomach flip, almost
already knowing where he was going with his story.  "I
think I understand," she said, suddenly seemingly
interested in her hands that were squirming in her lap.

"Yeah.  I'm sure you've already guessed where this
story is going," he said, his regret apparent in his
voice.  "It was self-destructive, Scully.  I know you
aren't going to believe this, but she was a vampire,
someone who drank blood from someone else.  And I slept
with her, not caring what happened to me, maybe even
subconsciously hoping something would happen to me...
put me out of my misery," he told her honestly.  "It
was meaningless and stupid.  I'm not making any excuses
for my behavior, Scully, but you have no idea how
guilty I felt about your disappearance."

"Have you been tested?" Scully asked, now in doctor
mode.

"Once.  It was negative.  I'm waiting for the results
of my second test," he admitted.  "I don't want to
endanger you."

"Does anyone know about this?" she asked, wondering if
any of what he'd just told her was part of the official
case report.

"No.  It didn't have any relation to the case... and I
wasn't exactly proud of my behavior..." he confessed
and meant it.  Scully could barely process what he'd
just confessed, let alone know what she really thought
or how she should feel about what he'd done.  "I'm
sorry, Scully."

She simply nodded.  He could see by her expression, the
way she pursed her lips, that she was upset and hurt by
what he'd shared with her.  Maybe it would've just been
better if he'd kept his mouth shut...

And by the next morning, he knew he was probably right.

"I think I can manage on my own, Mulder," she told him
at breakfast.  "I need to get back into some kind of
routine."  But he knew what she really meant; she
wanted him to leave.  She was upset, pissed, angry,
hurt, whatever and she needed to be away from him.  And
he knew he needed to give Scully her space.  And as
much as he didn't want to, he would give it to her.

X-FILES OFFICE
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
Three weeks later

Scully had gone back to work, glad she didn't have to
go back to Quantico and could, at least, work desk duty
at the Hoover building.  Mulder was called back to
California to testify about his infamous vampire case
and Scully used the opportunity to read the case file
about Kristen Kilar.  It didn't explain much and she
didn't find any answers.  Hell, she didn't even know
the questions.

She and Mulder had co-existed fairly well, both of them
ignoring the large pink elephant in the room-- their
personal relationship.  But neither said anything about
it, just falling into their familiar routine of work
and more work.  Scully kept herself on a strict
routine, only working her regular hours leaving any
overtime to Mulder.  She continued to work out and had
passed her physical and psychological workups and had
been released to return to full duty.  She had been
offered on-going counseling, but after attending her
mandated three appointments, declined any further
sessions.  She said since she had no memory of her
abduction, she seemed to have no residual trauma from
having been taken.  If she didn't know that so much
time had passed, she said it was just like waking up
the next day and returning to the X-Files.  And
although she knew Mulder wished she could remember
something, anything, she was just as glad she couldn't.

"I'm standing here on an historic eve with a group of
scientists who can barely contain their excitement
about this device which looks like a large titanium
bug.  Its name is Firewalker," the reporter's voice
began, Mulder and Scully watching the video provided by
Dr. Adam Pierce, a member of the original team who was
exploring the volcano in Mt. Avalon in upper Washington
state.

Mulder heard Scully ask Dr. Pierce, "How soon can we
get up there?" and felt his heart begin to race.  He
had been okay with Scully returning to desk duty, but
found himself protective of her, not wanting her to be
put in any situation that might bring her harm.
"Scully," he said softly, calling her over to where he
sat at his desk.  "I don't think it's a good idea for
you to go."

"Mulder, I appreciate your concern, but I'm ready," she
told him, truly understanding that he was worried about
her.  "I wanna work."

"Well, maybe you should take some time off," he told
her, the sincerity in his eyes bringing back too many
memories.

"I've already lost too much time," she answered quickly
and he felt a deep pang of guilt file through him.  He
hoped he could protect her.
They had gone on their ill-fated trip to Mt. Avalon,
one minute snipping at each other--
     'Mulder, that is science fiction! Look, Mulder,
the  fact is that all of these people are suffering to
varying degrees from post traumatic stress and from a
strictly medical point of view, we have to get them
out of here sooner rather than later!', Scully
irritated, Mulder rolling his eyes.
'We've got to get him to a hospital.'
'What about Trepkos?  We can't just leave him.'   'Give
me the shortwave!' Mulder hell bent on       finding
information that she found outlandish,  Scully losing
her patience with his self-   centeredness.

The next minute sharing tenderness--
     'He's dangerous, Mulder.  He's already killed two
men.'
     'Then I have to find out why.'
     'Will you at least let me go with you?'
     'No.'
     'Look, I know what you're thinking, but you have
to get past that.  We both do.  I'm back and I'm  not
going anywhere.'
     'You have to finish the autopsy... I'm counting
on you to keep us all from ending up on that
slab,' Mulder tenderly rubbing her shoulder, his  need
to protect her touching her to her core.

     'Scully?'
     'I'm okay.  I'm okay.'
     'You alright?'
     'I'm okay...' Mulder softly caressing her cheek,
relieved she wasn't harmed.

Their next case had taken them to Delta Glen, Wisconsin
and Mulder seemed to be in a sweet mood, Scully less
irritable and sharp towards him.
     'You know, Mulder, with ribs like these, I'd say
the Church of the Red Museum has its work cut out for
it.'

    'Yehp,' he agreed, wiping the barbeque from the
corner of her mouth as if he had a right to.

And they had worked a case in Worcester, Massachusetts
where both of them had nearly drowned, but they'd had a
few moments of levity.
     'Whatever tape you found in that VCR isn't mine.'
     'Good.  Because I put it back in that drawer with
all those other videos that aren't yours.'

     'Are you saying the building is haunted?  Because
if you are, I think you've been working with me for
too long, Scully.'

Their next case in Aubrey, Missouri felt like old
times, both of them teasing a bit, working together to
solve a 50 year old murder.
     'I guess that's why we're going to Aubrey.'
     'Yes and, also, I've always been intrigued by
women named 'BJ'.'

     'What if the recent murders triggered what was
previously buried in her mind; some connection that
she'd unconsciously made that no one else had been able
to make?'
     'You mean a hunch?'
     'Yeah, something like that.'
     'That's a pretty extreme hunch.'
     'I seem to recall you having some pretty extreme
hunches.'
     'I never have,' Mulder smiled to her, both of them
having a laugh at that.

But it was their next case, a case that Mulder had
taken in Minneapolis just to give them a vacation on
the FBI's dime to see a football game between the
Redskins and the Vikings, that had nearly been Scully's
last.

MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
One week later

"You okay, Scully?" Mulder asked, both of them sharing
an umbrella to ward off the cold drizzle.

"Yeah, I've read about cases of desecrating the dead
before, but this is the first time I've seen it," she
answered softly, Mulder picking up on her discomfort.

"Nothing can prepare you for it.  It's almost
unimaginable," he answered, Scully noticing his almost
nonchalance.

"Why do they do it?"

"Well, some people collect salt and pepper shakers.
Fetishists collect dead things; fingernails and hair.
No one quite knows why.  Although I've never really
understood salt and pepper shakers myself," he said in
his droll manner.

Scully looked at him, almost irritated by his cavalier
attitude toward behavior that she found extremely
disturbing.  "Sometimes you surprise me, Mulder."

"Why's that?" he asked, opening the car door for her,
both of them getting in the car.

"How that didn't shock you back there."  The sight of a
young girl's corpse with her hair and fingers cut off
still making her skin crawl, upsetting her entire
being.

"I prepared myself for it before we left Washington,"
he said matter of factly, something that irritated her.

She stared at him for a few moments, thinking about
slugging him for dragging her all that way on what was
beginning to look like a wild goose chase.  "You knew
this wasn't UFO related from the start?"

"I suspected as much, yeah."

Scully was doing a slow burn, but was trying to hold
her temper.  They had been getting along much better,
both of them seemingly trying to move on.  "It took us
three hours to get here.  Our plane doesn't leave until
tomorrow night.  If you suspected..."

Mulder smiled at her, interrupting her sentence,
knowing she was getting irritated at him and he had
pulled her chain long enough.  "Vikings versus
Redskins, Scully.  Forty yard line in the Hubert H.
Humphrey Metrodome.  You and me," he smiled to her,
showing her his VIP tickets.

Despite herself, she smiled to him, knowing this was
just his way of trying to make amends.  "You didn't
have to come up with such an outlandish ruse to get me
to go to a football game with you."

"You think this is outlandish?" he grinned.

"I guess not for you," she smiled back.  "Are we, at
least, paying for the tickets or is Uncle Sam footing
that bill, too?"

"Danny owed me a favor.  I fixed him up with Holly...
in the communications department," Mulder told her
proudly.

Scully burst out laughing, the thought of Mulder
matchmaking seeming absolutely hilarious to her.
"Matchmaking, Mulder?  You can't even keep your own
relationship going, let alone..." she said before she
realized how it sounded, seeing the hurt in Mulder's
eyes.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that the way it
sounded."

"Why not?  It's true," he answered, his eyes straight
ahead on the road.

Scully reached over and touched his hand, wanting him
to look at her.  "I didn't mean that," she reiterated.

Mulder glanced at her, seeing her look of regret and
gave her a smile, nodding his acceptance of her
apology.  "Guess where we're staying?" he asked,
figuring it would be a good idea to change the subject.

"Ohhhh, I don't know.  The Timberwolf Trailer Park?"
she teased, mocking Mulder's penchant for picking
tacky, second rate motels.

"No, they were full.  Actually, I'll just surprise
you," he smiled to her, enjoying teasing her, taking
her mind off the body that had seemed to upset her so.
Scully could seemingly do an autopsy with one hand and
eat a sandwich with the other, her professionalism
second to no one's.  But the body in the desecrated
grave had really seemed to unnerve her.

Scully was surprised when Mulder had pulled into the
Adam's Mark Hotel, a very nice, very expensive looking
hotel.  He had the bellhop get their luggage from the
trunk and the valet park their car, Scully taking it
all in in silence.  But when he registered at the desk
and the clerk asked if he wanted one or two keys, she
knew he had only booked one room.  "Mulder," she said,
walking a few steps from the desk, her look asking him
to follow her.  "We're on a case and I'm not sure one
room is such a good idea... yet."

"The room's on my tab, Scully, and I don't think
there's much of a case, for us, at least.  But it's
your choice.  I'll get another room," he told her,
turning to go back to the desk.  But Scully reached for
the sleeve of his coat, giving him a soft smile.

"It's on your tab?"

They had settled into the room, Scully noticing it had
only one bed, albeit a large king size.  Their room was
big and had a balcony with a seventeen story high view
of the Minneapolis skyline.  "Nice view, Mulder,"
Scully said, her back to him as she looked at the
setting Saturday evening sun.

"Yeah, it is," Mulder said, not even glancing out the
glass of the sliding doors, moving to stand next to
her.

"We need to talk, Mulder," she said out of the blue,
Mulder suddenly having a sense of dread.

"Okay..." he said, Scully turning to look up at him.

She moved to sit at the small table, her arm resting on
its top.  She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to
say, but they couldn't just resume the physical aspect
of their relationship without first talking about where
they were in the whole scheme of things.  "I've, a,
thought about everything that's happened... before I
was taken, what you did while I was taken.  Actually,
I've thought of little else."

"Yeah.  I know the feeling," he said, leaning against
the cool glass doors.

"I've tried to understand why you would do what you did
and I..."

"Scully, I don't even understand why I did what I did.
I was... in the darkest place I've ever been in my
life," he started, almost begging her to understand.
Mulder moved to sit opposite her at the small table,
wanting her to see that he meant what he was telling
her.  "Even though I tried to never give up on you, I
admit that I was to the point where I thought I would
never see you again.  I didn't care whether I lived or
died."

Scully reached across the table and took his hand in
hers.  "If you'd let me finish," she smiled to him.
"The thing is, I do understand, Mulder.  When you were
missing, when Deep Throat was killed, I was... I was
crazy with fear.  And that was only a couple of days,"
she smiled, still holding his hand.  "I don't blame you
for trying to feel something other than pain.  I
don't."

"You mean that?" he asked, his heart pounding.

"Yeah... I do.  And heaven knows I've thought about it
long enough," she chuckled, feeling a sense of immense
relief at them having finally talked about what they
should've talked about weeks ago.  Mulder stood,
continuing to focus on her as he moved to where she was
still sitting across from him.  He bent down in front
of her, placing his hands on top of each of hers where
they rested on the arms of the chair.  "Scully..."

Scully fixed her eyes on his, her need for him to hold
her as much as she could tolerate.  She moved forward
to wrap her arms around him, laying her head against
his shoulder.  "This has been the longest two months of
my life, Mulder."

"I know.  Mine, too," he told her as he held her, his
voice just enough of a whisper for his breath to tickle
the skin of her neck.  "Scully, I'm sorry for being...
well, for being so fucking stupid."

Scully pulled back from him, her small smile telling
him everything he needed to know at that moment.
"You're forgiven," she said, her smile increasing when
she noticed he seemed surprised that she had agreed
with his assessment of himself as being stupid.  She
held his sad face between the palms of her hands, her
thumbs stroking lightly across the bones of his cheeks.
"I love you, you know?  Sometimes, I wonder why... but
I do," she smiled.  "And I don't think there is
anything you can possibly do to ever change that,
Mulder... No matter how hard you try."

Mulder snickered, a knowing snicker, knowing that he
could've said the same thing to her.  He moved toward
her, giving her a soft kiss which she gently returned.
"I want to make love with you tonight," he told her
gently, almost childlike.

"You think I'm that easy?" she teased, her fingers
stroking through his hair.

"Nothing about you is ever easy," he said, his smile
felt against her neck as he kissed her there.

"Flattery will get you everywhere..." she said, a low
moan following after Mulder had found 'that' spot
behind her ear.

They managed to stumble to the bed, kissing and
touching and dropping clothes as they went, making it
to the bed almost simultaneous to the last piece being
removed. "Good timing, Scully," Mulder kidded as they
fell to the mattress.  "We haven't lost our touch."

"It's your touch I'm more concerned with at the
moment," she replied, laying on her back against the
pillow as he moved over her.  He laid flat against her,
his erection pressing into her thigh, her breasts
pressed against his chest, most of his weight balanced
on his elbows.

"Just so you know... My second test came back negative.
I'm clean," he told her sincerely.

"I know that.  You wouldn't be here with me like this
if you weren't."

"God, I love you," he said before kissing her hard,
thoroughly.

They kissed for several long minutes before he began
moving his kisses down her neck, to the front of her
throat before moving low enough to capture a nipple
with his lips.  She had been wet before they had ever
made it to the bed, but at the feel of his lips and
tongue on her breast, she felt her body lubricate
itself even further.  When Mulder began to move his
kisses down to her stomach, she held onto his biceps,
preventing him from moving any further down.  "Mulder,
let's save that for another time..." she said softly to
him.  He smiled at her, then kissed her softly,
shifting his weight to one arm, holding himself to
enter her.

Entry was easy.  "God, you're wet, Scully," he said as
he did, his eyes clamping shut as he relished what he
was feeling.

"I've missed you," she told him, unable to keep her
hands still as they danced across his back, his
shoulders.  They began to move together, their bodies
finding the rhythm they remembered.

"Jesus, you feel good," he whispered into her ear, his
body moving firmly against hers.

"Nnnnnnnnn, Mulder.  If you keep moving right where you
are, you are going to make me a very happy woman in
a... oh, god...few...Ohhhhhhhhhhhh," she stopped, her
voice ending with a gasp.  He tried to stop moving long
enough to let her ride out her climax, waiting for her
to exhale.  He began to move a little, the firm
oscillation of her internal muscles making it
impossible for him to remain completely still.  "Oh,
Muldermuldergodmulder.  Ohgodohhhhhhhhhhh godddddd,"
she moaned, his movements making the pleasure of her
continuing orgasm becoming almost painful.

"Scully, I can't...oh, fuuuccccck," he said, his orgasm
bursting into her, his body quivering as he released
several more times before he could still.  He lay over
her, their panting the only sound within the stillness
of the dark room.  He tried to kiss her, snuggle
against her neck, but could barely move.  Scully could
feel his breath against her neck, her brain beginning
to register what was going on around her again.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," she sighed, rubbing her foot languidly
against the back of his calf, his thigh.  "That was...
I don't know what that was..."

"That was one big fucking simultaneous orgasm is what
that was, Scully," he teased as he moved off of her to
his side, the combination of their fluids on his penis
painting a trail across her thigh as he moved.  She
immediately turned on her side to face him, sliding her
arms around his neck, her leg over his hip as she
snuggled close to him.  He wrapped his arms around her,
one hand slipping down to caress her bottom, the other
rubbing her shoulders, down her back.

"I love the feel of your hands on me..." she hummed
softly as she laid her cheek against his shoulder.

"I love the feel of my hands on you, too," Mulder said,
moving to kiss her hair, smiling at himself at his good
fortune.  He moved back from her a little, looking at
her, still wearing his smile.  "We'll always be
together, Scully.  This is for life..."

Scully kissed him softly.  "You bet your ass," she
teased, garnering a laugh from him, before they both
fell off to sleep.

They had slept in the next morning after awaking
shortly after sunrise, making love again after they had
ordered room service and finished their breakfast.
They were getting dressed to head to the game, Scully
thankful she had brought a pair of jeans with her, not
really having anything else that would be appropriate,
or warm enough, for a football game.  But Mulder had
come prepared with two stadium blankets and a new heavy
duty hooded official Redskins sweatshirt for her.  She
felt like a kid.  But just before they were leaving
their room, Mulder's cell phone rang, Mulder wondering
who would be calling.

Continued in Pt. 3

Feedback welcomed at philer@onemain.com



TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 3
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK: philer@onemain.com

FBI FIELD OFFICE
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
Forty minutes later
"Sorry you had to miss your game, but we found more
bodies dug up," Agent Moe Bocks informed them to the
din of the almost taunting play by play of the football
game on the TV in Bocks' office.

"Did you get your forensics report on your first
victim?" Scully asked, not really wanting to look at
it, but needing to if they were going to work the case.
She could hear Agent Bocks describing the morbid
details behind her as she opened the file and began to
leaf through it.  As Scully looked at the pictures of
the bloody ends of the victim's fingers, their nails
pulled out and the post mortem view of the women's
faces, she suddenly saw herself, the victim's picture
seemingly being one of her.

Scully slammed the file closed; leaving Agent Bocks'
office without a word, but Mulder noticed she was
upset, realizing their case was really getting to her.
She went to the women's restroom, washed her face a
bit, trying to get her breath and calm her nerves.
After Mulder had decided that with two more victims
they had better stay and help solve the case, she had
researched more about what a death fetishist would
likely be, the information only serving to heighten her
already frayed nerves.

And after another murder had been discovered later that
evening, Scully had found herself unable to view the
body at the crime scene, something that had never
happened to her before.  She felt emotionally crippled
by the bazaar nature of the crime, but didn't know why.
Even though she felt she had no memory of the time of
her abduction, for some reason, the case made her
realize she had been away.  She felt ill-prepared to
handle what their case was dishing out.

The next morning, Scully was called upon to do an
autopsy on the latest victim, a young woman, most
likely a prostitute that the killer had picked up on
the street.  It took everything she had to get through
it.

Mulder had stayed late at the FBI Field Office while
Scully had returned to their hotel, totally exhausted
from the autopsy and the feelings everything was
churning up in her.  She was sleeping when the phone
rang, waking her from what she realized was a
nightmare, again seeing herself as one of the corpses,
the silhouette of what appeared to be the devil
standing over her.  It was Mulder and they had a
suspect.

"Mulder, can I have a minute with you?" Scully asked,
Agent Bocks excusing himself, noticing that she seemed
to want to talk with her partner privately.  They had
gone to talk to the so-called suspect, all of them
realizing he wasn't likely to be the killer.  But all
of it was building within Scully, the men in the jail
creeping her out.

"I think I could better drive this investigation if I
could focus on the evidence," she told him.

"What are you suggesting?" Mulder asked calmly.

"That I take the body back to Washington... I could run
it through the finger print lab there... You know those
guys; they can pull a print off..."

"Scully... if you're having trouble with this case, I
want you to tell me," he told her softly, sincerely
worried about her.  Mulder noticed that she seemed to
be trying to find a way to get some distance from their
case, noticing just how much it seemed to be bothering
her.  It wasn't like her.

"I'm not having trouble, Mulder," she told him, but not
very convincingly.  She didn't want him to know how the
case had been affecting her.  It made her feel weak,
but her fear seemed to be getting the best of her.

"I'd understand.  I mean, it's not exactly easy to
stomach," he explained, wanting to reach out and take
her in his arms, but resisting his urge in the middle
of an FBI office where others could see.

"I'm fine," she said, trying to smile at him.  "Really,
I, I just think we're a long way from catching this
guy.  If we could get a print, we'd have something to
focus on.  But right now, we're at a standstill," she
tried to convince him and, probably, herself.  But
Mulder knew she wasn't being honest with him about her
real reasons for wanting to return to Washington.
Hell, she could barely look at him while she was
talking to him.

Mulder looked at her, seeing such fear and lack of
confidence in her expression.  "I think it's a good
idea," he told her, letting her think his answer was
because of the possibility of getting a print, but
actually agreeing with her so that she could separate
herself from their case.  "I just don't want you to
think you have to hide anything from me," his voice low
and tender.  "I've seen agents with twenty years field
experience fall apart on cases like this.  I have," he
said, finally reaching out to touch her, rub his hand
over her shoulder.

"I'm fine.  I can handle it," she said, Mulder watching
her walk away, wishing she wouldn't hide her feelings
from him.  But that was Scully and she'd talk to him
about it when she could.  At least, he hoped she would.

OFFICE OF KAREN KOSSEFF, LCSW
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
WASHINGTON, DC
Later that day
"You're a very strong person.  You've probably always
felt you can handle any problem by yourself," the
therapist observed.  "But you feel vulnerable now.  Do
you know why that is?"

Barely able to keep her composure, Scully though a
moment, before shaking her head, "No," her voice not
much more than a whisper.

"Is it your partner?  Is there a problem with trust?"
the woman asking, sensing that her partner might be
part of her insecurity.

Scully shook her head, smiling at the almost absurdity
of someone thinking she wasn't able to trust Mulder.
"No.  I trust him as much as anyone.  I trust him with
my life."

"Can you talk to him about the way you're feeling?"

"No," Scully answered quickly, but the thought of him
momentarily bringing a smile to her face.  "I... don't
want him to know how much this is bothering me.  I
don't want him to feel like he has to protect me."  The
therapist looked at Scully's file, reminding her how
the fairly recent death of her father, her recent
abduction could make her vulnerable and Scully agreed,
her composure crumbling further.  "...And I have
counted on that fact to give me faith in my ability to
do what I do.  I want that faith back.  I need it
back."  It only took a few seconds for Scully's self
control to let go and she covered her face with her
hands as she began to sob.  Karen handed her a box of
tissues and let her cry as long as she needed, not
saying anything else until Scully was ready to talk.

"I think, Dana, there is maybe something more you need
to talk about," the woman said to her, sensing that
Scully wasn't being totally forthcoming.

Scully thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath to
calm herself before speaking.  "I think I may be
remembering some things about my abduction," she
finally admitted.

"And you think this case is stimulating these
memories?"

"Maybe...  I keep seeing myself lying on a steel table.
I'm not sure if it is because of the pictures of the
victims or if they are actually memories of where I
was... what might have been done to me," Scully said to
the attentive woman sitting across from her.  For some
reason, she seemed to be able to tell a complete
stranger things she was yet unable to tell Mulder.

"It is not uncommon for someone to repress memory of
things too painful to remember.  And it is also not
uncommon for someone to have flashbacks, stimulated by
a variety of things," she explained.

Scully nodded, still dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
"I realize that.  I... guess I was caught off guard by
this case."

"That's something that seems to bother you, being
caught off guard.  You seem to keep your feelings
fairly guarded," she observed.

"I'm a woman in a man's arena.  It's a daily task to
not allow the men's club to treat me as less than they
are."

"But can you turn that off?  With your partner?  With
your personal relationships?"

"Sometimes.  It's still difficult for me, I guess,"
Scully admitted, knowing her emotional walls weren't
just put up at work.

Scully and the counselor had explored that aspect for a
while, Scully explaining that she had developed those
habits as a child because she had moved so much because
of her father's career and had a difficult time
establishing relationships because of it.  She always
seemed to be the new kid that wasn't really part of the
inner crowd.

"Are you in a relationship now, Dana?" Karen had asked
her, hoping that she had someone to confide in.

"I guess, of sorts," Scully smiled, never exactly sure
how to describe her relationship with Mulder.  Only two
short days ago, she probably would have answered with
an ambiguous negative.

"Of sorts?"

"Our relationship is a bit unorthodox," Scully said,
not wanting to reveal that she was involved with her
partner, to risk the possibility that it could end up
in her permanent file.  But she wasn't able to disguise
her emotions well enough to successfully hide her
information from someone who was well-trained in
reading everything about a person, not just listening
to what they were verbalizing.

"I think I may see why you are trying so hard to cover
the feelings you're having about this case," the woman
observed knowingly.  "It's your partner you're involved
with, isn't it?" the woman asked directly, but not
accusingly.  Scully smiled and nodded almost
imperceptibly, a bit unnerved that her counselor was so
perceptive, wondering what else she may be picking up
from her.  "But I think that begs the question,
Dana..."

"Why can't I just talk to him?" Scully filled in for
her.  "Yeah..."

"Maybe you're underestimating him.  Maybe you should
give him a chance to understand," the woman told her
sincerely.  "I don't have to tell you, Dana, what lack
of communication will do to a partnership, professional
or personal... or both."

When Scully had exited Karen Kosseff's office, she felt
like she'd been beaten with a club, both emotionally
and physically.  Counseling was difficult when you have
a good counselor and she definitely put Karen in that
category, so her long session had drained her.  But
Karen had made a good point; she needed to talk to
Mulder.

Scully had cut short her trip that she had initially
devised, in part, so that she wouldn't have to go back
to Minneapolis and, instead did just that.  But as
she'd left the rental car lot at the airport, she had,
of course, been forced off the road and kidnapped by
Donnie Pfaster.  And by the time Mulder had located
her, she had been through an ordeal that she would
never forget.

"Sure you don't want to sit down, Scully, and let
somebody take a look at you?" Mulder said softly to
her, seemingly oblivious to the other agents in the
room taking Pfaster into custody.

"I'm fine, Mulder."  Her voice trembled as she spoke,
trying to hold herself together, but unable to look at
him.  But as soon as he'd touched her chin, lifting it
to make her look at him, she felt all her reserve
crumble the instant his eyes met hers.  She fought not
to cry, but knew it was futile and Mulder recognized
it, too.  Despite that fact, he was surprised when she
moved toward him, burying her face against his chest
and beginning to sob, the other agents trying not to
notice.  He softly wrapped his arms around her, moving
his hand to stroke her hair in comfort.  He felt her
arms encircle his waist as she continued to sob, her
whole body trembling while she squeezed herself against
him so tightly he felt her full strength.  He had never
witnessed her become so emotional in front of her co
workers and never thought he would.

ADAM'S MARK HOTEL
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA                            Later
that night                                  "I've got
our flights.  Two thirty, so we can get a little
sleep," Mulder said softly to her, sitting next to her
hip where she reclined on the bed.  He tried to get her
to go to the local hospital to be examined but she
refused adamantly, just wanting to get back to the
hotel and take a shower.

Mulder hadn't pressed her for conversation on the way
to the hotel and understood when she went directly to
the bathroom when they had gotten back to their room.
He gave her some time, but was concerned enough that he
looked in the bathroom to check on her and could see
her silhouette behind the shower door just standing
there, no water running.  Mulder undressed and got in
with her, reaching around her to turn the water on,
adjusting the temperature before pulling the shower
knob.  He wrapped his arm around her from the back,
moving her to stand under the shower to let the warm
water soothe over her.

And soothe it did.  She could feel some of her tension
seemingly wash down the drain with the water.  But it
was Mulder's understanding and support of her that
helped most in finally allowing her to relax.  They
hadn't yet said a word to each other until Mulder began
to soap her hair and her simple words of "Thank you,"
were all the words said until he had gotten her into
bed.

Scully looked at the clock and noticed it was almost
5:00am and she was no where near feeling like she could
sleep.  "Mulder, I have a prescription bottle in my bag
in the bathroom.  Could you get it for me, please," she
asked, scooting up in the bed a bit to sit.

He got her the bottle and a glass of cool water,
handing them to her before calling the desk for a wake
up call.  "Eleven early enough?" he asked and she
nodded, taking a pill with the entire glass of water.

"Maybe you should take one, too," she said, handing him
the small bottle.

"I'll be fine," Mulder said, setting the container on
the bedside table without taking one.  He knew he
wouldn't be able to sleep and he wanted to be awake to
keep an eye on her anyway.  He got in bed next to her,
gathering her close to him, pulling the sheet and
blanket further up over them.  "Okay?" he asked.

"Good," she answered, snuggling in next to him, falling
off to sleep fairly quickly.  But he knew she was far
from being good and he wasn't sure how long it would be
before she would be again.

HOME OF WILLIAM MULDER
MARTHA'S VINEYARD, MASSACHUSETTS
Three weeks later
Typically, Scully had said very little about her ordeal
in Minnesota, even when Mulder had tried to ask a
couple of times.  But, typically, he didn't really try
very hard to get her to talk, neither of them the
greatest at talking about their inner fears and
feelings.  They had worked a couple of cases, their
lives threatened when caught between a New Hampshire
town's secret occult religion and a woman with strange
powers.  Then they had traveled to a Haitian refugee
camp in North Carolina, finding themselves caught in a
war between the camp commander and a Voodoo priest.

But it would be their next case that would most
threaten their existence together.

They had been tracking several missing doctors who,
strangely, they found all looked alike.  They had found
evidence of possible cloning in a laboratory in
Germantown, Pennsylvania and were trying to follow up
on various leads they had found.  Until the afternoon
Scully had come back to the office and the case seemed
to take a left turn.

Scully had been trying to find some DNA evidence,
locating one of the doctor's bags and showing it to
Mulder when she walked into the office.  "I didn't find
anything much to go on, but I've got an address," she
told him as she entered.

"Check it out.  I'll call you as soon as I can," he
said solemnly to her, grabbing his coat.

"Where are you going?" she asked, somewhat stunned by
his abrupt exit.

"Home," was all he'd said as he left, leaving her
standing in the office not understanding what had just
happened.  She was used to Mulder's obsessive focus,
his sometimes inconsiderate actions that could hurt her
feelings.  But he had been doing better, sometimes, and
particularly since her abduction and her ordeal in
Minnesota.  But, when he ditched her, it still hurt.

Mulder had gone to his father's home, finding the news
his father had sitting in the living room talking to
his mother-- His sister.  Or, at least, a young woman
who claimed to be his sister, all of them skeptical at
first, but coming to believe that she could probably
not be anyone else.  Mulder hadn't slept all night,
finally helping his mother to bed after sunrise.  He
walked outside on the porch to get some fresh air and
found Samantha sitting alone, wrapped in a blanket to
insulate herself from the morning chill.

"Is it too late for a game of Stratego?" she asked,
bringing a smile to his face, his memory of their last
game flashing through his mind.

"Twenty-two years too late."  He walked over to where
she was sitting, leaning against the porch rail in
front of her.

His sister could see his fatigue, the worry lines
around his eyes.  But she also saw his smile at her
mention of their childhood game.  "I don't think Dad
could think of anything to say.  He just... sat here."

"So much has happened," Mulder told her, knowing how
their father must be feeling.  "Where do you begin?"

"I must have been nine or ten when I was returned.  I
had no memory," she started to explain, standing to
move closer to him.  "I was placed with a family who
raised me as a daughter."

"Who were they?" he questioned, almost unable to absorb
everything she was telling him.

"I knew they weren't my parents, but I didn't remember
Mom or Dad... or you."

"But you came to remember... us," he said, hopefully.

"I started having trouble several years ago.  It was
diagnosed as free-floating anxiety.  Nothing worked for
me.  I hit rock bottom," she confessed, seeming
sincerely trying to explain things to her brother.
"Until I underwent regression hypnotherapy.  And it all
started coming back," her voice starting to break.
"The abductions... the tests..."  She moved to him,
laying her head against his chest, wrapping her arms
around him.  He enfolded her, still almost unbelieving
that he had his sister back, despite how much her story
was breaking his heart all over again.

Samantha moved back from him, looking at him sincerely
before speaking.  "I'm in danger, Fox."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been contacted.  You know there's a man hunting
my father and the other doctors."

"You're fa, your father?" Mulder not wanting to hear
her call someone else 'father'.

"My adoptive parents.  They're only visitors here. What
people would call aliens."  Mulder continued to listen,
almost unbelieving what he was hearing.  "A bounty
hunter has been sent to kill them.  You've met this
man.  His lies to you have caused others like my father
to die.  He won't stop until he's killed them all and
anyone who tries to stop him.  He'll come for me soon."

Mulder listened to what she had told him, feeling it
must be true since she seemed to know so many details
about the case he and Scully were working on.  He tried
to call Scully, leaving a message of warning that she
wouldn't get.  And as he'd done that, she was trying to
contact him.  "Mulder, it's me," she called him from
the seat on a public bus.  "I've just left my apartment
and I don't think I've been followed.  I'm gonna be
staying at the Vacation Village Motor Lodge off the I90
in Germantown.  Now by the time you reach me I should
have some very important information for you regarding
this case."

But what she didn't know was that she had been followed
by the bounty hunter, the man hearing everything she
had just told Mulder.  She had pursued the address she
found on the doctor's bag and found a lab that had
contained not only growing fetuses, possibly clones,
but the identical doctors they had been pursuing.
Scully had all four of the doctors held in maximum
security protective custody, not really sure who they
were, but feeling they were very important to the case
she and Mulder had fallen into.

Finally, Mulder and his sister had gone to his
apartment and he had listened to her message, calling
the motel where she said she'd be in her message.
Evidently, she hadn't yet registered, so he left a
message with the clerk, the man not realizing the
importance of the note he didn't take because of the
broken lead of his pencil.  So when Scully did
register, she never knew of Mulder's call or his
impending warning.

Scully got to her room and took a shower, not hearing
her phone again, Mulder desperately trying to reach
her.  She innocently laid down to take a nap, not
remembering when she'd last had any sleep, but awakened
by a knock at her door.  "Who is it?"

"Scully, it's me," she heard Mulder's voice.  Scully
looked through the curtain and saw that it was Mulder,
relieved that they had finally connected.  She had so
much to tell him.

"I got your message," he told her as he walked through
the door.

"Where have you been?" Scully asked, turning away from
him to answer her ringing cell phone that was lying on
her bed.  "Scully," she said into the phone.

"Scully, it's me.  Where are you?" she heard Mulder's
voice say and suddenly felt her heart start to pound.
Who the hell was the person in her room if Mulder was
on the other end of the phone?  "Scully?  Are you
there?" he asked her silence through her cell.
"Scully?  Are you there?  Scully?  What's going on?"
She was still almost too stunned from hearing his voice
when he'd seemingly just walked into her hotel room.

"No, sorry," she told him, hanging up, knowing he would
sense that something was wrong and be on his way to
help her.  She didn't know why, but she followed her
instincts, believing that it was the real Mulder on the
phone, the man currently standing in her hotel room
some kind of imposter.  As implausible as it seemed,
she knew that, somehow, there were clones being made
and she felt he must be one of them.

"Who was that?" the 'Mulder' in her room asked.

"Wrong number," she lied.  "Where've you been, Mulder?
I've been trying to get hold of you."

"I've been trying to reach YOU.  I went by your house
but you weren't there. I got here as quickly as I
could."

She needed to stall him while making her way to get her
gun that was hidden in her waist pack on the bed.  "Why
didn't you call when you got my message?" she asked.

"I did call.  I, I couldn't get through," he gave as an
excuse.

But in the next instant she pulled her gun and pointed
it at him.  "Put your hands against the wall!"

"Scully, what are you doing?" he asked innocently, a
bit too innocently.

"I said put your hands against the wall!" she yelled
forcefully, still pointing her gun directly at him.

"What's wrong?" he said, trying to fool her, but she
somehow knew it wasn't him, no matter what he'd said.

"Do it!!"

"Scully, it's me," he said, but complied with her,
turning and placing his hands flush against the door.

"I don't know who you are."

He kept talking, trying to distract her and it worked
just well enough for him to turn and hit her squarely
in the jaw with a right cross, knocking her into the
wall.

The man picked her up, grabbing her by the fabric of
her jacket, pushing her against the wall as he lifted
her from the floor.  "Where is he?" the man said, his
voice and his physical appearance now changing
drastically.  "That was him on the phone, wasn't it?
Tell me where he is."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said,
panting, knowing he would kill Mulder if he found him.
The man tossed her like she was no more than a feather,
her body falling into the hotel table, the glass top
crashing as it broke.  After that, she remembered
little else.

Mulder and his sister had gone to look for her, Mulder
sick at seeing the disarray of the hotel room, the
broken table telling him Scully had been in a hell of a
fight. "Your partner is alive," his sister reassured
him.

"How do you know?" Mulder asked desperately.

"He took her to get me.  He's gonna contact you.  He's
gonna say he wants to make a trade.  Your partner's
life for mine," Samantha told him, knowing what the
bounty hunter really wanted and she knew it wasn't her
brother's partner.

"Why?  Why does he want to kill you?"

"Because I know how to kill him."

"How do we find him?" Mulder asked as they left the
motel.

"We don't.  He'll find us," she told him plainly.

Mulder and Samantha went to Mulder's apartment to wait
to be contacted and Mulder was frantic, unable to even
sit for any length of time.  He was having trouble
absorbing everything, even after his sister had
explained who the man was, who the clones were, what
they were doing including combining human DNA with
alien DNA.  He was beginning to wonder just what his
sister had been involved in while she had been missing
and just how deeply she had become involved.

With Skinner's aid, Mulder and Samantha had set up a
trap and Scully was shocked to learn that he had agreed
to trade his sister to the bounty hunter for her.  Even
after the twenty two years he'd spent searching for his
sister, when it had come down to it, he had chosen her.

But the whole trade hadn't gone well and his sister and
the bounty hunter had ended up in the river.  He held
out hope that she might be found alive, scrambling to
find some way to locate her.

Mulder had found a note that his sister had left him
and headed to the Women's Health Clinic in Rockville,
Maryland while Scully stayed in Bethesda to work with
the crew searching for his sister.  But just as he
reached the clinic, his cell phone rang and it was
Scully.

"Mulder, it's me," she said, heartsick with dread at
having to tell him what he had found.

"Scully, she left a path in case we got separated," he
told her hopefully in reference to her note.  "I think
she's alive."

"I think you should come back as soon as you can," she
told him softly, watching the EMT's near the river's
edge.

"Why?  What'd you find?" he asked hopefully.

"It's your sister," she told him sadly.  "We just
pulled her body out of the river."  He didn't say
anything, the silence on the other end of the phone
deafening to her.  "Mulder, I'm so sorry..."  It had
been all she could do to call him with the news, but
knew it would be best for him if he heard it from her.

Finally, he spoke.  "Are you sure?"

"Yeah...," she replied sadly.  "You know..., whatever
you're feeling, you can't blame yourself," she tried to
comfort, her chin quivering, upset at having to tell
Mulder news that she knew would devastate him.  Again,
he didn't say anything, his silence killing Scully.
"Mulder, please talk to me.  Come home.  You need to be
with your family now," she told him, trying to stay
calm.  "I need to see you."

"I need to find out what is going on, Scully.  Now,
more than ever."

Scully's news had seemed to bolster his drive instead
of making him give up.  After he'd hung up from Scully,
Mulder went on into the clinic anyway and found the
clones of his sister, realizing the young woman who had
returned to him hadn't been his sister after all.

Mulder couldn't resolve in himself everything that had
happened.  He'd thought he'd lost his sister only to
find that he'd never really had her.  Scully's life had
been put on the line for a personal pursuit of his, a
personal pursuit that hadn't even yielded him any
answers.  But he knew the bounty hunter was out there
somewhere and, maybe, just maybe, so was his real
sister.  And just maybe, he could find out where.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
The next day
Scully knocked at his door, but there was no answer,
something that didn't surprise her.  She entered with
her key and went directly to his computer.  She
immediately found a message directed to her, seemingly
hearing his voice reading it to her.

 'Scully- When you get this message I will be too far
away for you to stop me, but where I'm going I cannot
allow you to follow.  I won't let you jeopardize your
life and your career for reasons purely personal to me.
You were right, Scully-- you said a line has to be
drawn somewhere.  I'm drawing it for you here.  I'll
contact you when I can.'

Scully was desperate to find him, knowing he was in
grave danger, especially if he ran into the bounty
hunter.  She went to Skinner practically begging for
his help.  But he had become angry at her, ignoring her
desperation.  "Agent Mulder's actions in this case are
in violation of his duties, his oath of trust and
bureau protocol.  He's risked my position, your life,"
he told her.

"Agent Mulder has saved my life!" she yelled at her
boss, all her emotions near the surface.  She knew that
she would not be alive if Mulder hadn't rescued her
from Donnie Pfaster, something that Skinner hadn't even
realized.

"If he wanted or expected you to do the same, he
would've told you where he was going," Skinner told
her, hoping she would stop looking for her partner,
putting herself in danger to do so.  His words cut her
to the bone, the truth behind them hurting her, almost
stunned she had been put in her place, a place that
didn't seem to matter much to Skinner or Mulder for
that matter.

Regardless, she didn't give up, contacting Mulder's
source, getting no further with him than she did her
boss.  But, in spite of how he had treated her earlier,
Skinner had come through for her, finding Mulder's
location through 'unofficial channels' and she set off
to find him, hoping it wasn't too late.

EISENHOWER FIELD HOSPITAL
DEADHORSE, ALASKA
Two days later
Scully burst though the doors of the ER, seeing Mulder,
sitting in a tub with an oxygen mask on, recognizing
that he must be near death.  "I'm Dana Scully.  I'm
Agent Mulder's partner.  What are his vitals?" she
said, showing her badge, her voice shaking with
emotion.  Scully knew what was wrong with him, having
seen the retrovirus in Agent Weiss in Syracuse.

A man, who appeared to be the doctor in charge, spoke
abruptly to her.  "He's suffering from extreme
hypothermia."

"No, you've got to get him out of the tub!"  Scully
tried to explain what was wrong with Mulder and how the
doctor's current treatment was exactly opposite of what
should be done.  "If you keep him in there, you're
going to kill him.  The cold is the only thing that's
keeping him alive."

Suddenly she heard the monitors change tune and she
immediately recognized that Mulder had flat lined, the
attending doctor calling for an injection of
epinephrine.  "You don't know what you're dealing with
here!" Scully yelled at them, trying to explain, the
attending doctor trying to argue with her, send her
from the room.  But she didn't give up, scared beyond
words that she would be witness to the stubborn
doctor's methods ending Mulder's life.  "No, the only
thing saving him right now is the hypometabolic state
induced by the cold.  Now, if you don't do what I'm
saying, you are going to kill him!" she implored and
finally, the doctor seemed to realize that she seemed
to know what she was talking about.

But even as she helped to revive him, using the
defibrillator on him herself, she couldn't believe
where she was and what she was doing and who she was
doing it to.  It all seemed surreal, but she was on
auto pilot, her only purpose being to save him.

"This patient is not going to recover," the snotty
doctor said almost under his breath.

"He's going to make it," she gave back to him, almost
demanding it to be, but gently petting Mulder's hair
back from his bruised and discolored face.

After a treatment of transfusions and an aggressive
treatment with antivirals, Mulder began to recover.
Scully sat vigil by his bed, buoyed by the fact that he
seemed to be slowly getting better, even though he
still hadn't regained consciousness.  She had gone back
to the quarters they had given her for a couple of
hour's rest, not able to stay upright any longer.  She
couldn't remember the last time she'd slept.

She felt somewhat better after her nap, returning to
Mulder's room to sit by his side, holding on to his
arm, saying a silent prayer.  Just then, he began to
stir, hearing a familiar grunt coming from him as he
woke.  All she could do was smile.  "Hey," she said and
he turned his head toward the familiar voice.  He
wished he could say how relieved he was to see her
face, having no idea what had happened or where he was,
but knowing that things would be okay because she was
there.  "How ya feelin'?" she asked, still unable to
remove her grin.

"Like I got a bad case of freezer burn," he managed to
whisper, his words so much like him that he couldn't
have said anything more comforting to Scully.  She
explained to him where he was and how he'd gotten
there, just glad that they were anywhere together.
"Thanks for ditching me," she said, so angry several
days before when he had done so, but her anger now all
gone.

"I'm sorry, I, uh, I couldn't let you risk your life on
this," he told her sincerely.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No, no... I found something I thought I'd lost."  Her
eyes asked him what he meant.  "Faith to keep looking."
His words warmed her very soul, her love for him and
his passion overwhelming.  She looked back at the door,
seeing it was safe for her to lean over and give him a
kiss.  She did, stroking his rough, chapped cheek as
her lips met his.  She gave him another 100 watt smile,
"you taste like lemons," commenting on the lip balm
they had used to treat his damaged skin.

"When someone gives you lemons, make lemonade," he
quipped, Scully comforted by his familiar corny sense
of humor.

"You scared the hell out of me," she told him tenderly.

"How long have I been here?" he said, still feeling
disoriented.

"This is day three," she told him and he could see that
the days had been harder on her than they had been on
him.

Mulder smiled at her, looking down to find her hand,
taking it in his.  "You okay?" he asked, his voice low
and scratchy.

Scully only nodded, trying to keep her composure, but
finally crumbling as she laid her head against his
chest and began to cry.  He stroked her hair with his
other hand, letting her cry as long as she needed.
"Don't ever do this to me again, Mulder," she told him
when she'd finally quieted, looking him squarely in the
eyes.

"I did it to protect you," he tried to explain.

"Do I look like I felt protected?" she asked, knowing
he could see the tired, worn expression she bore.  He
got her point.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Two weeks later
Scully stayed with him for the few more days he was at
Eisenhower, both of them returning to Washington on a
military flight.  Scully had essentially moved to his
apartment for the next couple of weeks, not trusting
Mulder to take proper care of himself or follow his
doctor's directions.  She had gone into the office a
couple of times, making Mulder promise not to set foot
out of the apartment while she was gone and he complied
for a change.

"Mmmmmmm," he smiled, peeking into the top of the sack
of take home she had brought in from Mulder's favorite
Greek restaurant, knowing she'd driven way out of her
way to get it.  "You went all the way out to Khalkis'?"

"Just for you," she smiled to him, giving him a quick
kiss.  "I got the reports from your sister's case
finished early, so..."

Mulder had helped her with some of the text, telling
her what the woman he thought was his sister had told
him.  She knew it hadn't been easy for him, the pain of
thinking his sister had returned only to have her taken
from him again very difficult.  "Well, thank you," he
said, giving her a kiss in return, truly appreciating
her extra effort.

They had a nice dinner and were lying together on his
couch watching television, Scully dozing off and on.
"I think I'll go to bed," she said finally, sitting up
from her place in front of him, his arm still wrapped
around her waist.  "You can finish your movie in the
bedroom if you want.  It won't keep me awake."

"I guess not," he chuckled, seeing that she had been
sleeping through much of it already.

She gave him a stern look, but he knew she was teasing
him.  She started to stand from the couch, but he held
on, pulling her back down on the couch, down next to
him again.  "How tired are you?"  She could tell by the
look in his eyes what he was actually asking.  They
hadn't made love since before his 'sister' had
returned, his health curtailing any ideas either of
them might have had.

"I don't think my status is the issue here," she
answered.

"Oh, but you think mine is?" he smiled to her.

"Yes, yes I do.  I'm not sure you're ready yet,
Mulder."

"If I can go back to work, surely I can play around a
little bit," he said, nuzzling her neck.

She looked at him, not sure he was actually serious,
but seeing that he was.  "You've been released for desk
duty only."

"Okay.  Then let's have sex on my desk," he said, his
hand slipping under her sweater as she chuckled at his
joke until he put his lips to hers, giving her a long
intense kiss.

Finally, she came up for air, feeling long unanswered
arousal stirring in her abdomen.  "Come on," she said
softly, standing, holding her hand out for his.

They got ready for bed, Mulder waiting for her when she
came out of the bathroom.  She slid in under the sheet,
finding that he was naked, which made her laugh.
"Eager are we?" she teased.

"I am if you are," he teased back, gathering her in
close to him.  She returned his embrace, her leg
wrapping over his hip as they faced each other, both of
them enjoying kissing for a while.  Mulder's hand
rubbed across her bottom, knowing how erogenous her
butt was, a touch there usually getting her going.

"I've missed you," she whispered next to his ear, her
hand sliding down his torso to grasp his penis.  She
was a bit surprised to find him totally flaccid, Mulder
usually ready to go, seemingly anytime.  She stroked
him, her hand closing over the end each time, hoping to
help him along.

Mulder continued to kiss her, down her neck, across her
chest to her breast, his lips finding her nipple.  And
despite how good it felt, Scully moved away from him a
bit, to look at him.  "You okay?" she asked, worried
that something might be wrong since he still didn't
seem to be hardening.

"I'm fine.  Just a little slow to get started, I
guess," he said, hoping that's all that was wrong.
"This is like riding a bicycle, right?"  Scully nodded
to him, giving him a soft smile of reassurance.

She gave him an easy push, silently telling him to lie
on his back before moving slowly atop him.  "Just lie
back," she whispered to him, kissing him for a long
time as she sinuously moved her body against his.  She
kissed down his chest as she moved down his body, her
leg slipping between his, her thigh rubbing against his
sex as it did.  He still wasn't erect.  Her hands
weren't still as she progressed further down his
stomach, kissing his skin along the way.  She took him
in her hand, never before making it this far with him
that he wasn't already hard as a rock.  She put him in
her mouth, her hand massaging his sack as her tongue
did its work on his glans.

Mulder wasn't small, even totally flaccid, so she had
no difficulty holding him in her mouth, using her hands
for other things.  "Jesus, Scully," Mulder sighed, the
attention she was giving him making him feel very good.
But even though he seemed to be enjoying what she was
doing, his body didn't seem to be responding.  Finally,
she used her hand on him, slowly pumping his shaft as
she continued to suck and massage him with her tongue.
But after a few more minutes of her actions being
unanswered, Mulder finally reached for her, coaxing her
back up next to him.  "I think I need a plumber," he
said, but she could tell by the tone of his voice and
the look on his face that he was embarrassed.

"Mulder, this really isn't surprising considering
everything you've been through.  You're just not ready
for this yet," she told him tenderly.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he said,
barely able to look at her.

"It's the truth."

"Is THAT supposed to make me feel better?"

Scully could sense that he was actually quite upset and
just using his humor as a way to handle it.  "Can I ask
you something?" she asked softly.  He nodded, albeit
reluctantly, so she continued.  "Um, have you... have
you woken at night with an erection or had one in the
morning?" she asked carefully.

"You mean ever?"

"I think you know I mean since we got back from
Alaska," she answered, getting a bit exasperated by his
attitude.

Mulder knew she was just trying to help so he thought
for a few moments before answering.  "I, uh, haven't
really noticed, but I, um, really don't think so now
that you mention it," he told her, realizing he hadn't,
not having really noticed until she had asked.  "Is
that a bad sign?"

"No.  I meant it when I told you its normal for this to
happen after an illness such as yours."

"Well, it's not normal for me.  Especially since I've
been sleep-- well, since you and I have been together,"
he chuckled to her.  "Everything you do turns me on,
Scully."

She smiled and gave him a soft kiss, "Yeah, I've
noticed."

Mulder looked at her and seemed to suddenly realize
that just because he couldn't get going didn't mean he
couldn't satisfy her.  "Well, at least I can make you
feel better," he smiled to her, his hand slipping down
her body to between her legs.

"Unh, uh," she said, quickly taking hold of his hand
and removing it from where it rested.  "I'm perfectly
content to wait for you.  Then we can feel good
together."

"Trust me when I tell you, I would feel good if you'd
let me continue."  He kissed her then, hoping maybe
she'd change her mind and let him pleasure her, which
would, indeed, pleasure him.

"No.  I can wait," she reassured him again.

"Let's hope neither of us has to wait too long," he
joked, but Scully knew he was worried about what had
happened, or hadn't happened.  As was she.

Continued in Pt. 4

Feedback welcomed at philer@onemain.com



TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 4
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK: philer@onemain.com

U.S.S. ARDENT
NORWEGIAN SEA
One week later
The day after their failed attempt at love making,
Mulder had discovered a strange case in Fairfield,
Idaho that involved a gorilla who Mulder thought had
been impregnated by aliens.  Initially, Scully thought
Mulder had finally lost his last semblance of sanity,
but by the end of the case, she wasn't so sure he
hadn't been right.

They had only just returned to Washington when Mulder
was called in to assist with the Behavioral Science
division, being sent to Texas for several days.  Scully
had been looking forward to him coming home the next
day when she'd received a call from him to meet him at
the Bethesda Naval Hospital, Mulder having already been
back in Washington for several hours.

"Scully.  Thanks for coming," Mulder said as soon as
she'd gotten off the elevator.

"What was so urgent that you couldn't tell me over the
phone?" she asked quickly and he could sense that she
was slightly irritated at him for not letting her know
he was back in Washington.

Mulder took hold of her arm, steering her to an area
down the hospital corridor so that he could speak more
privately.  "I didn't want to waste any time. A Navy
destroyer escort, the USS Ardent, has been missing in
the North Atlantic for the past 42 hours."

"Missing?"

"Yeah, there's been no radio contact, no distress
signals picked up. Search planes and satellites haven't
picked up anything either," he explained softly to her.

She looked at him in disbelief, "You're saying that a
ship and its entire crew just vanished?"

Mulder returned her gaze somewhat sheepishly, knowing
how implausible his story might seem.  "Well, that's
what it looked like until last night. A Canadian
trawler picked up 18 survivors."

"Well, they must have reported what happened."

"Only one of those survivors is still alive. He's been
taken into the ICU under heavy security," he continued,
the case starting to peak Scully's curiosity.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"That's what I was hoping you could tell me."

Thus began their search for the missing U.S.S. Ardent
in the Norwegian Sea.  And after they found it, even
though both of them had come to believe that the crew
had suffered from some kind of rapid aging process,
neither of them suspected what would happen to both of
them.

"Scully?" Mulder said, the timer on his watch having
gone off, telling him it was time to wake her from her
short nap.

"Mmmm. I just fell asleep," she said from her position
on her stomach on top of one of the ship's galley
tables, still not wanting to rouse.

Mulder felt for her, knowing her belief system had been
disturbed by what they had found in the ship and seeing
that she was still very tired.  "You want a few more
minutes?"

"No. I'm up."  But as she lifted her head, Mulder was
shocked by her appearance.

"Scully...," he gasped, her face aged and wrinkled.

At the same time, she looked at him, seeing that he
looked like an old man.  "Mulder, what happened to
you?" her voice just as desperate.

And everything went downhill from there.  Trondheim,
the man who had taken them to find the ship, had turned
on them, selfishly trying to hoard all of the drinking
water for himself. So they had no drinkable water and
were continuing to age by the minute, Mulder seemingly
more quickly than her.  They had no idea if anyone
would find them, both of them not able to do much more
than wait... and continue to age.

Scully had looked through every corner and cabinet in
the crew's quarters for liquid, finding only a snow
globe, some lemons and a can of sardines.  She drained
the liquids into a jar, bringing the drink back to the
dining area of the ship where she and Mulder had been
staying.  She found Mulder reading her journal.

"You're almost out of pages. It's good you kept a
record," he said, continuing to look worse, getting
weaker as he aged.

"Trondheim's locked himself in the sewage hold. He's
backflushed all the water and he's keeping it for
himself. I looked everywhere and this is all I could
find," Scully told him, setting the jar on the table in
front of him.  "Its sardine juice, half a dozen lemons
and uh, the water from a snow globe."  Mulder licked
his lips, slurping like it sounded delicious, his sense
of humor giving her a bit of comfort.  "It's not Evian,
but..."

"You go ahead and drink it," he told her, knowing he
was in much worse condition than she was, even though
they hadn't really said it in words.

"No, Mulder," she answered quickly, wondering what he
could be thinking.

"It's the only logical choice, Scully. You're a woman.
Your life expectancy is greater, and your body retains
more water in fatty tissues," he said, knowing she
would be able to last longer than he was going to.

"That's more reason for you to drink it," she said
tenderly to him, touched by his thought for her.

"You have a much greater chance of surviving until help
comes," he tried to convince her.

"Don't do this, Mulder," she told him firmly, his care
for her touching her heart.

"Don't be so stubborn, Scully. You know I'm right," he
challenged and she really didn't have anything to
counter with, at least anything honest.

"Well, there isn't much liquid to make a difference
anyway," she said, still hoping he would drink it.

He pushed the jar across the table toward her, hoping
the same thing.  "There might be."  Scully looked at
him, seeing the love in his eyes, then eyeing the
pathetic little jar, feeling silly that they were
acting the way they were over something that would,
ultimately, make no real difference.

"No," she told him, her reply also telling him that if
he was going to die, then she would go with him.

Suddenly, there was a metallic groaning sound and the
ship suddenly shuddered, knocking both Mulder and
Scully to the floor, the jar vibrating along the table.
"What was that?" Scully asked, both of them getting
back in their chairs.

"The outer hull must have finally corroded through,
which means we're taking on water."

"Mulder... the water," Scully noticed, the jar broken
on the floor, having vibrated off the edge of the
table.  They looked at one another as odd creaking
noises continued to be heard from the hull of the ship,
both of them knowing that even if they didn't age
quickly enough to die, they would surely drown.

Mulder was shaking, his voice little more than a
whisper.  He took hold of her hand, pulling it up to
rest against his face.  "I wanted to grow old together,
but this is ridiculous," he smiled to her.

"Yeah, my manicure is kind of wasted on these hands,"
she smiled to him, Mulder gently massaging her hand
between both of his.

Mulder looked at her for several long moments, his
heart breaking that these may be their last hours
together.  "I love you, Scully," he said simply.

"And I love you..."

14 HOURS LATER
Mulder's trembling had worsened, Scully's voice almost
giving out as well.  She was still at the table, Mulder
half-reclining on a bench next to where she sat.  He
was wrapped in a blanket watching Scully writing in her
journal, trying to record everything she could in case
someone would find them or in case what was happening
to them might sometime happen to others.  "I always
thought when I got older I'd maybe take a cruise
somewhere.  This isn't exactly what I had in mind. The
service on this ship is terrible, Scully."  Scully
smiled, finding so much comfort that even under their
dire circumstances, Mulder still had his warped sense
of humor.  "It's not fair. It's not our time. We still
have work to do," he said sadly to her.

Scully put down her pen and turned toward him.
"Mulder... When... they found me, after the doctors and
even my family had given up, I experienced something
that I never told you about.  Even now it's hard to
find the words.  But there's one thing I'm certain of.
As certain as I am of this life; we have nothing to
fear when it's over."

Mulder slumped over to his side, reclining a bit
further, but unable to take his eyes off her.  "I'm so
tired."

Scully looked at him, not wanting him to close his eyes
because she knew it would probably be for the last
time.  But she knew he couldn't sit up any longer and
knew he needed to have her permission to stop fighting
what was happening to them.  "You should sleep," Scully
told him, stroking his forehead, closing his eyes for
him.

But he struggled to open them again, "I need to see
you," he said.  Scully moved over next to him on the
bench, putting her arms around him and holding him as
she could.  She wrapped the blanket around them both.

"Better?" she asked, giving him a soft kiss.

"I don't want to leave you..." Mulder said, his voice
teary.

"You aren't.  I'm right here with you.  We're together,
Mulder... always," she comforted him, his eyes finally
closing, Scully's tears unfelt against his cheek as he
lost consciousness.  She held him for a long time, but
knowing she needed to finish her journal, hoping almost
against hope that someone would find it before it sank
to the bottom of the Norwegian Sea.

Scully had filled all the pages in her journal and had
found a children's book of Norse legends, completing
her writing in the margins.  "...And finally a wolf
named Skoll will open his jaws and eat the sun, sending
the world into an everlasting night. I think I hear the
wolf at the door..." she wrote as her last words, her
pen dropping from her hand, no longer able to hold on.
She could see that Mulder was still breathing and she
moved over to be next to him again, taking his hand in
hers, her eyes finally closing, finding comfort in her
last cognizant moments that she and Mulder would die
together.

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
36 HOURS LATER
"Agent Scully?  Agent Scully, can you hear me?" she
seemed to hear faintly.  She forced herself to rouse,
her eyes gradually opening, seeing nothing but a bright
light.

"Mmmmm," Scully mumbled, the light finally moving away.
"Yeah..."

"It's been 36 hours since your rescue. I've got you on
dialysis with a high-flux filter. You're obviously
responding well," a woman's voice told her.  Scully
focused a bit, being able to see that she was in a
hospital of some kind and seemed to be alive.

"Your electrolytes are almost back to normal and your
fluid status has been corrected," the woman continued.
Scully opened her eyes fully, her throat uncomfortably
dry as she tried to swallow.  She tried to raise her
head, to try to orient herself better, but it fell back
on the pillow, her eyes closing again from fatigue and
confusion.

But suddenly, a moment of clarity came to her.  She
raised her head again, now seemingly wide awake.
"Mulder? Where is he?" Scully asked, almost frantic
even in her weakness, looking to the woman above her
for an answer, then around the room, seeing Mulder
lying in a bed next to her, releasing her breath in
relief.

"His endocrine system was considerably more compromised
than yours. Frankly, we didn't think that he'd make it
- until we discovered this," the doctor said, showing
her the journal she had so meticulously taken her notes
in. "Based on your observations, we're giving him a
course of synthetic hormones, which seems to be
working."  Scully just looked at him, thanking god that
the conclusions she'd drawn about their rapid aging had
been used to save his life.

12 HOURS LATER
Scully had been able to sit up, drink some liquids,
even take some clear broth, but Mulder had not yet
regained consciousness, despite the fact that his
vitals were strong and steady.  Scully had gotten out
of bed and had been assisted to walk a bit, deciding to
sit in a chair next to Mulder's bed rather than
returning to hers.  She almost couldn't believe that
there they were again, Scully sitting vigil by his
bedside.

Then she heard a low, horse groan and she thought it
was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.  Dr.
Laskos was there as well and she noticed him rouse,
too.  "Agent Mulder?" the doctor said, quickly moving
to his bedside.  Mulder tried to focus, not recognizing
the woman standing before him.  But before he could
quite orient himself, Scully had stood, moving close to
look him in the eyes.

"Mulder, it's me," Scully smiled to him, placing her
palm against his cheek, her thumb stroking his lips.
"You're okay."  After he saw her, she was almost
shocked to see his lips start to quiver, his eyes fill
with tears, seeing that he was about to cry.  Not
caring that Dr. Laskos or the other technicians in the
room were witnessing their interchange, Scully bent
closer to him and gave him a soft reassuring kiss.
"We're okay, Mulder.  We're okay..."

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
One week later
The lights were low, a small fire burning in her
fireplace, the first one she'd had in a couple of
months at least, she thought.  It was quiet and
peaceful and she was enjoying a great book that she
hadn't been able to put down most of the day.  Then,
she heard his familiar knock.  "It's me, Scully."

"Use your key," she called to him, not really wanting
to unwrap herself from her afghan or get up from her
recline on the couch, but she smiled when she heard the
tumblers turn.

"Hey," he said, tossing his coat in one chair, sitting
down in the other.  "Being lazy?"

"Yes, actually I am," she smiled to him.  "What are you
doing out?  I thought you were resting today."

"I was... but I'm stir crazy... bored," he told her,
but she seemed to recognize that he had something else
on his mind.

Scully smiled, knowing that Mulder wouldn't be able to
stay cooped up in his apartment for long.  He had
actually ended up being discharged from the hospital
sooner than she had, Scully having developed a
respiratory infection that kept her there an extra day.
Her mother had stayed with her for a day when she first
got home and had shuttled back and forth between her
apartment and Mulder's for the next couple of days to
insure that both were doing well and were feeding
themselves.  Most of the outward signs of their aging
had healed as well and neither of them seemed to have
suffered any permanent damage.

"And that made you think of me?" she smiled to him and
he laughed.

"I'm always thinking of you," he told her and she knew
by his sudden seriousness that he really did have
something on his mind.

Scully resituated herself on the couch, folding her
feet up under her, readjusting her afghan.  "Come
'ere," she told him giving him room on the end of the
couch.  Mulder gave her a small smile, but did as she'd
asked, thinking how inviting the spot next to her
looked.  "What's the matter?"

"I've missed you this week," he told her, his hand
reaching to rub her thigh through the blanket.

She grasped his hand as it moved against her and gave
it a soft squeeze.  "I've missed you, too... but I
don't think that's really what's on your mind..."

He thought for several long moments before he spoke,
Scully seeing that he seemed to be having difficulty
putting into words what he had on his mind.  "I guess I
came here for some kind of forgiveness," he said,
laying his head back against the couch.

Scully looked at him for a few moments, puzzled at what
he could possibly mean.  "Forgivness?"

Mulder let out a long deep sigh, finally turning to
look at her again.  "I apologize... for what happened
in Norway."

"Apologize?  Just what is it you think you need to
apologize for?" she asked him, still not exactly sure
what he was trying to say.

"I damned near got you killed!  Again."  He was angry
at himself, she could tell, blaming himself as usual.

"Goddammit, Mulder," she said, moving to sit up fully,
letting go of his hand, irritated at him.  "You did no
such thing."

Mulder laughed at her remark, shaking his head almost
in disbelief at what she'd said.  "And how do you
figure that?"

"Do you think I owe YOU an apology for what happened in
Norway?" she asked him pointedly.  "Do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you think you owe me one?  It wasn't as if
you forced me to go with you.  It's my job, too, Mulder
and I go because that is what I do.  Any danger we
incur is no more your fault than it is mine.  How many
times do I have to explain that to you?" she told him,
exasperated.

"I guess I can't believe you really mean that," he
said, almost laughing at himself.

"That's the problem.  You just don't believe me," she
said, tossing the afghan off, moving from the couch,
heading for her kitchen.  She opened the refrigerator,
finding a Shiner Bock on the bottom shelf, immediately
remembering the time she and Mulder had drank the other
five.

Mulder slowly followed her, trying to figure out in his
mind how what he thought was a humble apology had so
totally pissed her off.  "You know that isn't true..."
he said, leaning against one of her kitchen counters
while she leaned against the other, taking an angry
swig of her beer.

"Of course it's true.  I could give you a litany of
times when you didn't believe me," she told him, still
angry.  "Do you really even believe that I love you?"

Mulder smiled at her, not knowing that his action was
making her furious.  "Actually, that's one thing about
you that I DO believe," he tried to tease, moving
closer to her in an attempt to put his arms around her.

"Stop it!" she said angrily, moving away from him,
pushing his arm away from near her hip.  "Don't try to
play around.  I'm pissed and I want to be pissed."

"Play around?  Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"In your own way, yes," she told him honestly.

"I think I need a beer on that one," Mulder chuckled,
reaching for the refrigerator door.

"There aren't any more," she snarled at him, feeling
instantly childish that she felt a twinge of pleasure
that she had the last beer.  But, being who she was,
without looking at him, she handed him her bottle,
Mulder taking a quick draw from it.  He looked toward
her, but she refused to look at him, still leaning
against the counter with her arms sternly folded in
front of her.  So, Mulder just kept staring at her as
he put the bottle to his lips and leaned his head back,
with obvious purpose to drain the entire contents.

"You asshole!" Scully yelled, jumping towards him in an
attempt to grab the bottle from him, but he wriggled
away from her, having to stop drinking when he began to
laugh.  "Give me that!" she continued, trying to get
hold of what remained of her beer.  He was able to get
around the table and stood opposite her as if in a
stand off.

"You want it, come get it," he taunted, a big teasing
grin on his face as he again put the beer to his lips.

"If you drink the rest of that beer, I will never speak
to you as long as I live.  Or maybe as long as you
live, because if I get hold of you, I'm going to
strangle the ever living life out of you," she told
him, trying to move around the table after him.  She
was still trying to act angry at him, but he could tell
he had her; he had played and now she was playing back.

"Oooooh, Scully, this beer is reallllly cold," he
goaded her, taking another sip.  "Mmm, mmm, good."

At that, she lurched, getting to him in an instant,
Mulder making no real effort to get away from her.  He
outstretched his arm, holding the beer high above her
reach, his other arm wrapping around her, pulling her
to him.  "Give me that!" she shrieked, now unable not
to laugh.

"I'll give it to you alright," Mulder said, wrapping
his outstretched arm around her, too, bending to kiss
her as he squeezed her tight against him.  He could
feel her resist only a couple of seconds before she
relaxed against him and settled in to his kiss.  They
kissed hard, passionately, for several long moments,
Mulder backing Scully up against the table, setting the
forgotten beer bottle down next to them to free his
hand.  He quickly slid his hand down inside the back of
her pajama bottoms, his hand cupping her ass firmly and
squeezing.

Even as they continued to kiss, Scully reached for the
button on his jeans, opening his pants and slipping her
hand inside his brief to cup him, relieved to feel that
he was on his way to being hard.  "You're very
trusting," she smiled, finally breaking their heated
kiss, giving him a gentle squeeze.  "As mad as I was,
you are a brave man..."

Mulder laughed, realizing she did indeed have him by
the short hairs.  "Like what you find?" Mulder asked.

"Always..."

They made it into the bedroom, barely able to stop
kissing long enough to undress.  Their lovemaking
started out fairly desperately, but they slowed
somewhat, neither of them back to their physical best.
But it had been wonderful, not having been together
intimately for almost a month.

"I'm glad you stopped by," Scully chuckled as they lay
together afterwards.

"Yeah, I could tell.  I think you needed that," he
kidded her, in reference to how intense her climax was.

"Oh, and you didn't," she said sarcastically, teasing
him in return.  Mulder chuckled and pulled her closer,
kissing her hair as she snuggled into his side.

"Good make-up sex, I'd say," Mulder commented.  He
could feel Scully's smile against the skin of his
chest.

"Did we?  Make up, I mean," Scully answered.

"I don't know.  Are you still going to strangle me?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Scully answered dryly, giving his hip
a little pinch.

"Ouch," he laughed, grabbing her guilty fingers,
bringing them to his lips for a kiss.  They lay
together silently for several long moments, softly
stroking each others' skin, wrinkled and scarred only
weeks before.  "I, um, apologize for my apology."  He
didn't like it when she was angry at him.

Scully sat up, her hand resting on Mulder's stomach as
she looked down at him.  "We're equals, Mulder.  I
think sometimes you forget that, not often, but..."

"I know, I know.  I just can't stand to see you put
yourself in danger.  I feel responsible," he admitted,
trying to explain.

"It's my job.  I do it because I love and believe in
the work," she told him, leaning down to give him a
soft kiss.  "And I love and believe in you..."

GULF BREEZE TRAILER COURT
GIBSONTON, FLORIDA
13 days later                                      "Why
can't we just get one trailer, Scully?  It's not like
we're going to use both of them.  And who in this town
is gonna tell?" Mulder said as he'd parked their rental
outside the proprietor's office of a small trailer
park.  Scully just gave him a look, knowing that they'd
had this conversation several times before.

They had gone to investigate the murder of a man who
was part of a community of former circus performers,
including several former 'freak show' acts and
contortionists.  Right up Mulder's twisted alley.
Actually, he had partially chosen the case as a
diversion, something a bit less serious to work on,
their first case back in the field after their near
death experience in Norway.

Mulder and Scully were led by their trailers by the
bellhop, a man named Lanny who had a smaller twin that
seemed to be attached to his torso, head first.

"Tell me, have you done much circus work in your life?"
Mulder asked the man.

"I was on the stage for most of my life. I was a
headliner," the man told them as they walked toward
their trailers.

"Did it not bother you to have other people staring at
you?" Scully asked, wondering why someone would want to
display a deformity for others to glare at.

But the man smiled, seemingly proud of his former
career.  "Best work I ever had. All I had to do was
stand there. Occasionally, I'd say..." he began,
stopping to stand tall as if on stage as Mulder and
Scully look on. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to
meet my brother Leonard."   He paused and looked down
at the partial person that was protruding from under
his coat.  "Excuse him, he's a little shy.  Big laughs,
I tell you, big laughs."

"Why'd you give it up?" Mulder asked as they start to
walk again.

"Mister Nutt, the kindhearted manager here, convinced
me that to make a living by publicly displaying my
deformity lacked dignity... so now I carry other
people's luggage," Mulder and Scully suppressing a
laugh.

They came to a set of trailers, essentially nothing
more than campers, Scully giving Mulder a dirty look at
his typical choice of accommodations.

"I believe these are your trailers. If they are not,
then I am wrong," Lanny told them, Mulder taking both
suitcases from him.

Scully had the key to the first trailer and headed to
the door, Mulder just standing there.  "Yours or mine?"
he asked.  Scully turned to look around, wanting to
make sure Lanny had gone back down the road and no one
was around to hear them.  "Mine looks newer," Mulder
said, noticing hers was a bit run down.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she told him as she
opened her door and entered the small trailer.

Mulder had just stepped out of the shower when he heard
her soft knock on his door, her familiar, "It's me,"
bringing a smile to his face.

"Well, I was hoping it wasn't Mr. Nutt," he told her, a
towel slung low around his waist as he walked into the
small kitchen area of the camper.

Scully smiled, slipping her coat off, revealing her
purple silk pajamas and her white terry robe.  Mulder
wondered just how many sets of pajamas she must have.

"There's no television," Mulder told her and she
chuckled.

"Oh, my god," she teased.  "You'd better get into bed
before you pass out."

He walked up to her and untied the sash on her robe,
slipping his hands around her waist.  "Only if you come
with me," he said, nuzzling her neck.  "You're better
than TV."

"Gee, thanks," she offered, giving him a quick kiss.
"Don't get too excited.  I'm tired and this isn't
exactly the best time of the month to be starting
something."

"I still get to see you naked, don't I?" he teased,
going to the door to lock it, turning off the kitchen
light, both of them heading to the bed towards the back
of the trailer.

"If you give me a backrub.  That flight was horrible."

"Deal."

THE NEXT MORNING
She felt Mulder get out of bed early, only rousing long
enough to see that he was getting dressed to go for a
run.  She had slept well, but was glad to have the time
to roll over and go back to sleep.  But not long after
Mulder had left, she began to wake again, hearing the
birds chirping outside the open window.  Her eyes
flickered, still not quite wide awake when she saw a
man fly by her field of view out the window, seemingly
falling off the roof of the trailer.  Startled, she sat
up and was relieved to see that the man was actually
bouncing on a trampoline outside the window.  But just
as she began to wonder where the trampoline had come
from, she heard a frantic pounding at the door.

She gave thought to not answering it, not really
wanting to answer Mulder's door, but didn't know what
else to do.  She loosely put on her robe and opened the
door, finding Lanny standing there, seeming surprised
to find her answering the door at Mulder's trailer.

"Uh, ma'am... sheriff, he, uh..." he stuttered, "wants
to see you."  Lanny's robe was open enough for Scully
to see his twin attached to his abdomen and she
couldn't help but stare.  Unbeknownst to her, Lanny was
noticing that her robe was gaping a bit as well, a good
portion of cleavage freely exposed.

Suddenly, they both slowly looked at each other,
realizing each of them had been staring, albeit at
different objects of interest and quickly self
consciously close their robes.

"There's been another murder," Lanny told her.

And there had been a couple more before they had
finally figured out that it had most likely been
Lanny's twin who had been disengaging, trying to find
another brother.  The case had indeed been a different
one, but the two of them had needed a diversion and
they had certainly gotten it in Florida.

DUDLEY, ARKANSAS
Three weeks later
Their next three cases had all been close to home, a
nice relief from the drain of their sometimes constant
travel.  They had investigated a young boy's unusual
death which had led them to a superstitious old woman
and her grandson who Mulder had believed had been
possessed by some kind of evil.

Mulder had found out about a case in a Virginia prison
which involved a plague-like illness that the
government seemed to be trying to cover up.  Scully
hadn't told Mulder how close she'd come to contracting
the disease while working in the quarantined area while
he had been working to capture two escapees.  But she
had known and the effect of her latest brush with death
seemed to be having an accumulative effect, her sleep,
her appetite starting to suffer.

"You losing weight?" Mulder had asked her while they
were working on their next case where a scientist's
shadow seemed to be a form of instant death.  She had
denied his observation, blaming it on her new suit, one
she'd bought in a size smaller than she had been
wearing for the last several years.

But during their flight to Arkansas for their next
case, Mulder had pressed her again.  "How come you're
denying that you're losing weight?  It's obvious,
Scully," he told her, flipping through a magazine.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, Mulder.  So,
I've lost a few pounds.  I needed to," she said,
sitting in the seat next to him, trying to relax.

"You needed to?" Mulder laughed, thinking the last
thing Scully needed to do was lose weight.  "I just
wish you'd be honest with me."

And she knew he was right.  She had been keeping the
exact truth from him and she wasn't sure why.  Except
maybe that she didn't want him to worry.  She wondered
if he'd noticed that she hadn't been sleeping as well,
but hoped that he hadn't since she usually slept better
when they slept together.  But she had been using a
sleeping pill on many of the nights she slept alone,
something else she hadn't shared with him.

"Well, some good old fried chicken ought to fatten me
up a bit, don't you think?" she told him in reference
to the case they were going to Arkansas to investigate.
Scully thought the powers that be were sending them on
a wild goose chase, that they were trying to undermine
their work.  But Mulder saw more in the case and seemed
to be determined to show their bosses that they were
wrong about the case.

Scully had discovered a rare disease in one of the
victims during her autopsy which led them to find a
small creek near the chicken processing plant where
many of the townspeople worked that seemed to be full
of bones-- human bones.

Scully sat on the floor of a large room in the county
building, sorting through hundreds of bones that she
had spent the night categorizing.  She turned when she
heard the door open, happy to see Mulder enter.
"Sheriff Arens is outside.  They're still pulling bones
from the river."

"Well, so far I've been able to isolate nine distinct
skeletons. This one belonged to the late George
Kearns," Scully told him, confirming the location of
the initial murder they had come to investigate.
"How do you know?"

"The pin in his femur. According to his medical file,
Kearns broke his right leg four years ago," she told
him matter-of-factly, showing him the long bone held
together by a metal plate and screws.

"What about the others?" he inquired, seeing the large
array of human bones spread out on the floor before
them.  He could see that the case she had initially
thought was 'a wild goose chase' was now totally
fascinating to her.  'That's what always happens,' he
smiled to himself.

"Well. I'll need more sophisticated equipment to be
certain, but I estimate that some of these bones are as
much as 20 or 30 years old," she began. "All of them
share one strange detail, though."

"Well, they seem to have lost their heads," Mulder
quipped.

"Well, besides that," she smirked. "The older bones
show signs of decay and surface abrasion just like
you'd expect but for some reason all of them, even
Kearns', are smooth and buffed at the ends."

Scully handed him one of the larger bones and he looked
at it closely.  "It's almost like they've been
polished."  Even he was beginning to get creeped out
over what he was seeing.

"It could be from erosion from the water, but..." she
explained, but not with much sincerity.

"No. That water had hardly any current and this level
of erosion wouldn't be confined to just the ends of the
bones," he noted, but knowing she had already deduced
that.

"Any theories?"

"Maybe," Mulder said, pulling out his phone and
dialing.  Scully could see the wheels in his head
beginning to spin, wondering just what theory he was
beginning to form.  She knew his head was really going
to spin when he heard the theory she was putting
together...

Mulder had called his friend at the FBI, following up
on a few of his suspicions.  He had stayed with all of
Scully's bones while she had gone back to the hotel to
take care of something 'personal'; he didn't ask what.

"I had Danny run a check on all missing persons last
seen within a 200-mile radius of Dudley," Mulder said
when Scully had returned, carrying a bucket of chicken.
He was perusing the fax that he'd just pulled from the
machine.  "In the last 50 years, 87 people have
disappeared near here and, judging from the forensic
evidence, I'd say the same person or persons were
responsible."

"Then it may have been the work of some kind of a
cult," she said, not really knowing what else could be
going on.

"Scully, I think the good people of Dudley have been
eating more than just chicken," Mulder told her slowly,
a look a revulsion covering his expression.

"You think these people were eaten?" she asked, almost

shocked that he was suggesting such a thing.

"Look at these bones. They've been polished at both
ends suggesting they were boiled in a pot," he started
moving to pick up a large bone to show her what he
meant.  "Anthropologists have used similar evidence to
prove cannibalism among the Anasazi tribe of New
Mexico."

"Well, then Paula Gray may have contracted Creutzfeldt
Jacob by eating George Kearns..." Scully said, barely
able to say it.

Mulder had several things he wanted to check out,
wondering just what the townspeople were really up to
and just what else the chicken plant was being used
for.  "You coming?" he asked as he walked toward the
door.

Scully looked once more at the bones on the floor, then
remembering that she was still carrying the bucket of
chicken and set it down on the table before she left,
the thought of it by then turning her stomach.

After only a little more investigation, both of them
knew that something terrible was happening in the town
and, most likely, many people had died because of it.
But they had done something they tried not to do, they
separated, each of them investigating different leads.
And it was almost a fatal mistake.

Scully had been captured and taken to a gathering of
the townspeople and had been restrained in one of their
ceremonies, Mulder rescuing her within an instant of
her being decapitated by the cannibalistic townspeople.

Mulder unfastened her restraints, Scully near panic,
gingerly removing the duct tape that covered her mouth.
"You hurt?" he asked, almost as panicked as she was.
"You alright?" he questioned again, tenderly moving her
hair back from her face.  Scully was unable to speak,
still trying to catch her breath, but she managed to
give him a small nod.  But Mulder could see the look on
her face, a look that he had only seen once before.
And it was then that he realized she had never really
been the same since Donnie Pfaster had done what he'd
done.

Scully had remained professional, however, filing a
report with the Arkansas State Police when they arrived
and no one was the wiser about how the case had
affected her.  Except Mulder.  He had wanted her to
rest after they returned to the hotel, but she had made
it clear that they were packing and leaving and making
it as quickly as they could to Little Rock to get the
next flight out.  He didn't argue.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN
Later the next day
"You can stay if you want, but I'm going to bed," she
told him shortly after they had arrived home from
Arkansas.  She had unpacked a few things, taking a
quick shower while Mulder searched her refrigerator for
something to eat.

"Aren't you hungry?" he said, finding some eggs and
cheese, Scully walking into the kitchen toweling her
hair.

"Yes, but I'm too tired to eat," she replied and he
could see that she was beat.

"You need to eat something."

"And I'm equally tired of your comments about my eating
habits," she said angrily, turning quickly to leave him
standing in the kitchen.  Mulder let out a deep sigh,
deciding to let her go, for now.  He knew she hadn't
been herself lately and then, after yet another brush
with death, the case in Arkansas had made her withdraw
even further.  He had wondered to himself just how much
more she would be able to take.
                                                     He
put together an omelet and found a diet soda in the
door of the fridge and sat down at the table alone to
assuage his hunger pangs.  He knew she had probably
taken a pill; she'd been doing that a lot lately, and
would be out for several hours, at least.  He wished
she'd open up to him, but also knew how hard it seemed
to be for her to do that and she didn't respond well to
confrontation about it.  He'd tried that approach, on
several occasions, and it just seemed to make her
angrier each time he'd tried to get her to talk.  But,
he couldn't just sit by and do nothing.  He was
sincerely worried about her.

Mulder had finally fallen asleep on the couch, tiring
of watching an early season Yankee rout of the Angels.
But as he lay resting soundly, he was startled awake by
the loudest, blood curdling scream he had ever heard.
"Noooooooo!!!!," he heard again.  He jumped off the
couch and nearly flew into Scully's room, not finding
her on her bed, his heart pounding.

"Scully?" he said, checking the bathroom, but not
finding her there either.  "Scully..." he sighed,
finally locating her.  She was sitting on the floor of
her bedroom, cowered in the corner, her breathing loud
and desperate.  "Scully... take a deep breath," he told
her, the look on her face scaring him; she didn't seem
to recognize him.  "It's me... Mulder... It's
Mulder..." he repeated, reaching to touch her.

"Nooooo!!!" she yelled again when he reached for her,
very obviously afraid of him.

He backed off a bit, just staying crouched in front of
her, but trying to be non-threatening.  "Scully, take a
deep breath.  Slow down..." he coaxed fearing that she
was going to hyperventilate.  "That's it...  that's
better..."

"Mulder?" she said weakly, confusion written all over
her face.  "Wha... where...?"  She looked around and
seemed to recognize that she was in her own bedroom,
but not knowing why she was on the floor, huddled in
the corner.

"You're at home.  I think you had a nightmare," he told
her, still keeping his distance.  She shook her head,
trying to clear it he figured.  "Okay?"

"Um, yeah, I think so," she answered, reaching to wipe
her face, noticing she had been crying.

"Can I touch you?" Mulder asked, wanting to hold her,
but figuring he'd better not try.

"Why would you ask me that?" she snapped, still
befuddled by her situation.

"Earlier..." Mulder started, but then realizing she
didn't remember and it wasn't important enough at the
moment to upset her about.  "Let me help you up."  She
was wobbly when she stood and now seemed to be
embarrassed by her display, but let him help her back
to the bed.  He fluffed several pillows behind her
against the headboard and sat next to her hip once she
was settled in.

"What happened?" Scully asked timidly.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he replied softly.
"Do you remember your dream?"

Scully just looked at him, seeing in his eyes so much
love, but also his abject fear and concern for her. And
at that moment, she knew she owed him the truth.
"I, I, don't think it was a dream..."  He looked at her
questioningly, not understanding what she meant.  "I
think it was a flashback."  And then he got it.

"This wasn't your first one," Mulder said and it wasn't
a question, many things about her recent behavior, her
weight loss, her late arrivals to work, dawning on him.

Scully shook her head, knowing he was probably going to
be hurt when she told him what had been happening to
her... and how long it had been happening.  "I've, um,
had a few... quite a few," she admitted slowly.

"Since your abduction?"

She shook her head again, knowing that Mulder was way
off base.  "I honestly don't remember anything about my
abduction, Mulder," she assured him.  "Maybe I will at
some point, but right now, it just seems like I went to
sleep and woke up several months later."

"Then when?"

"Since Minnesota..." she confessed, not able to say
Donnie Pfaster's name.  And then Mulder realized just
how much she had been holding in, holding back from him
about their case and what had happened to her.

"Oh, Scully..." His response was soft, reaching to take
her hands in his, scooting a little bit closer to her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry, to feel you had to protect
me."

"I always feel like I have to protect you.  You're my
partner.  That's what partner's do," he tried to
reassure her.  "And Scully, this doesn't make you seem
weak.  I know that's what you're thinking.  We all have
our Achille's heel and, even though you don't remember
anything about your abduction, I think somewhere
subconsciously, that event has added to what you are
feeling about Pfaster and then what happened in
Arkansas.  Jesus, Scully, I've been wondering just how
much more you could take.  I wish you'd told me what
you were going through."

"I'm sorry.  I, I know I should have," she said, giving
his hand a soft squeeze.  "Maybe you've noticed, I've
never had, um, an episode when you're here."

"Yeah, I gathered that.  Why this time?"

"Because you weren't sleeping in here with me.  You
don't usually sleep on the couch," she smiled.

"Well, then I won't do that again," he teased her
softly, but then suddenly getting serious.  "You need
to get help with this, you know."

"You sound like Melissa."

"You told her about this?" he asked, wishing she'd felt
she could confide in him instead.

"She told me to talk to you."

"You're kidding?" Mulder chuckled, thinking that her
sister didn't really seem to think too much of him. "I
never thought she'd ever give me an endorsement."

Scully chuckled, knowing that something must have
happened between her sister and Mulder while she was
ill.  "She knows you love me," Scully told him
honestly, remembering her conversation with her sister.
*I think he's an asshole, Dana, but it's obvious he
loves you more than life itself. I gotta give him
credit for that.*  "And she knows I love you."  Scully
leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss, her palm
caressing his cheek.

Mulder returned her kiss, then moved back to look at
her.  "I'll go with you, Scully.  I'll do whatever you
need, but you need to get professional help," he told
her sincerely.

Scully nodded and he could see by the look in her eyes
that she would do it.  She pulled the sheet and blanket
back and scooted over in the bed, inviting him in.  He
lay down next to her and she snuggled against him,
falling asleep fairly quickly.  But Mulder stayed awake
for quite some time.

Continued in Pt. 5.  Feedback to philer@onemain.com



TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 5
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK: philer@onemain.com

OFFICE OF KAREN KOSSEFF, LCSW
DOWNTOWN WASHINGTON, DC
Two evenings later
"It bothers me that you couldn't tell me that," Mulder
told her as they drove to Karen Kosseff's office,
choosing to see her at her private practice rather than
officially through the FBI's employee assistance
program.  Scully wanted to keep her private business
private and Mulder had agreed; seeking help sometimes
wasn't the best thing to have in your personnel file,
especially for a woman.

"Mulder, I wasn't sure where I stood with you at the
time.  If you remember, I wasn't even sure we were back
together," Scully explained, having finally told him
she'd gone to see Karen when she'd come home from
Minnesota during their case.

Scully had filled out several forms when they'd
arrived, Mulder uncomfortably shuffling through an
outdated magazine.  "Karen's ready for you, Dana," the
receptionist told her.  Scully gave Mulder a self
conscious smile and went into the inner office, her
stomach in knots.

"It's good to see you again," Karen had said by way of
greeting as she shook Scully's hand.

"I wish I could say the same thing," Scully chuckled.

"You don't think it's a good thing that you've decided
to come here?" Karen smiled to her, not taking offense
to Scully's quip.

"No, I mean yes... I do... I'm a, I'm just a little
nervous, I guess," Scully admitted.

"I'm used to that.  Everyone always is.  I guess I'd
wonder about someone who wasn't," Karen smiled to her.
Karen reviewed the forms Scully had completed earlier
and wasn't too surprised by the fact that she had been
having flashbacks.  "How frequent are your flashbacks?"

"It depends..."

"On what?"

"I, um, seem to only have then when I sleep alone.  So,
if, um, I am alone, I'll usually wake up... most nights
anyway.  It may not be a full blown thing, but my heart
will be racing and I, um, feel... disoriented for a few
moments," Scully explained.

"How about the 'full blown thing' as you call it?"
Karen asked.

"Every couple of weeks, I guess," Scully said shyly,
still not able to get over her feelings that she was
somehow weak for having her problems.

"Describe them."

Scully thought a few moments, realizing that even
though they all were slightly different, in general,
they were so much the same.  "Most of the time, I wake
up and I'm still in bed, but on a few occasions, I
haven't been.  I've, um, found myself in the bathroom,
the living room, the most recent time on the floor of
my bedroom.  And I have no memory of getting there,"
she explained.

"Are you having any somatic symptoms?"

Scully nodded, staring at her hands as she began to
answer.  "I've um, been crying after most of them; had
headaches."  She didn't tell Karen about the time she
had woken with her hands fisted so tightly her
fingernails had broken the skin of her palms deeply
enough to draw blood.

"Do you have any memory of what you are visioning?
What happens that makes you feel like crying?"

"Sometimes... but only... snippets, I guess you'd say.
Flashes of scenes..." Scully acknowledged.

"Like what?"

Scully knew what the common thread in all of the
various scenes from her episodes was and why she was
having it, or at least she thought she did.  "I'm
usually someplace where I don't know anyone, always
among strangers.  And I seem to be the object of
everyone's attention."

"Everyone's attention?"

"Yeah.  Everyone either seems to want me to go with
them or everyone is chasing me or I'm the only one in a
room and everyone else is outside looking in.  And I
can't seem to get anyone to talk to me, to answer my
questions, but they all seem to be talking to each
other, just not me."

"Do these memories seem to be more like visual
metaphors for what you are feeling or actual memories
of things that have happened to you," Karen asked,
knowing that Scully probably had who knows what happen
to her when she'd been taken and missing for so long.

Scully thought pensively for several long moments while
Karen patiently waited for her response.  "I never
really thought about it, but I would have to say both,"
Scully started.  "I've had memories where I was, um,
restrained to a metal table, seemingly in some kind of
exam room or hospital and that seems so real somehow.
But then I have recollections of running through a
flowered field, with birds chirping and it being very
pleasant until I turn around and see that there is a
crowd of people who are chasing me.  And I somehow know
that I need to run from them, but I don't know why."

Karen absorbed every word Scully had said, trying to
analyze everything she was telling her and also what
she wasn't telling her.  "We've talked before about you
being a very controlled person and, I know, Dana, a
very intelligent person.  So I know you can see clearly
how all of the scenarios that you have described have
you in places and circumstances where nothing seems to
be within your control.  And when so many things so
totally out of your control have been done against you,
I can easily see how all of it could get the best of
you.  And even though your reaction is very normal, it
is also abnormal in the sense that any of the rest of
us would've crumbled a long time ago," Karen told her,
giving her a soft, reassuring smile.  "So even though
you've come here thinking you 'can't handle things' as
you've said, I think, given your circumstances, you are
handling things quite well."

"Well, I guess that's something," Scully smiled,
comforted by the observation her therapist had just
presented.

"It's more than something, Dana.  We just need to get
you to a place where you don't feel your circumstances
are controlling you and to a point where you take
control of your circumstances.  You can't change what
happened to you.  But you can change how you deal with
it.  That's what we need to help you do."

"You make it sound so easy," Scully said, feeling a bit
overwhelmed.

"Nothing like this is ever easy, Dana.  But it is
doable and you have the intelligence and insight and
the will to do it," Karen explained, knowing that many
of her patients, sadly, had none of that.  "And you
have support.  I noticed that your partner is here with
you tonight."

Scully nodded, her chin beginning to quiver when her
thoughts went to how loving and understanding Mulder
had been after finding her a shaking mess on the floor
of her bedroom.  "He's, um, very... he's a great
support."

"And I can't tell you how important that is, having
someone to help you get through this, someone to
confide in.  I usually try to include a significant
other in the treatment plan, if they are willing,"
Karen said, her way of testing the waters to see if
Mulder would agree to be a part of Scully's therapy.

"He's willing.  We've talked about it," Scully told her
shyly.

"You seem... reticent?" Karen commented, noticing
Scully's sudden shyness.  Scully found herself
desperately fighting back tears, thinking that if she
didn't have Mulder she wouldn't be able to be where she
was.  Karen gave her a few moments, seeing that she was
having difficulty containing her emotions, wishing that
Scully felt comfortable enough to let go.  But, that
wasn't for her to decide.  She met her clients where
they were, wherever that might be at any given time.
She was confident Scully would make it there.

"No, no, that isn't it at all.  It's just that he's
already put up with so much from me in the last couple
of days, since my last flashback.  I worry that I'm
asking too much from him," Scully confessed, reaching
for a tissue from the box on the end table next to the
couch where she was sitting.

"Should we call him in and see if he feels that way?"
Karen smiled, figuring that Mulder didn't.

"Can I have a minute?" Scully asked, wiping her nose.

"Take as long as you need," Karen told her, making a
quick note in Scully's record, patiently waiting for
Scully to regain her composure.  A few minutes later,
Scully told her it was okay and Karen asked Mulder to
join them.

"Have a seat, Mr. Mulder," Karen said and Mulder sat on
the opposite end of the couch where Scully sat.

"Just 'Mulder' is fine," he told her quickly, looking
at Scully, seeing that she had obviously been crying.
"You okay?" he asked her softly, trying to get her to
look at him.  Finally she did and nodded, trying as she
might to give him a smile.

"I have a few things I'd like Dana to do in the next
few days, before her next session.  Things both of you
can work on," Karen started, Mulder still looking at
Scully.  She had given them an 'assignment' of sorts,
eliciting Mulder's background in psychology to assist.

"We can manage that, can't we, Scully?" Mulder said
hopefully, wanting Scully to feel better about things.

Scully chuckled at Mulder's enthusiasm, not sure if he
was being silly or just nervous.  "Yes, Mulder we can
manage that," she said, finally giving him a smile.

"I know you both have unpredictable schedules, but if
you can, it usually works well if you set aside the
same time each day to work on the exercises I've given
you.  They're important, so don't put them on the back
burner."

Mulder had taken hold of Scully's hand as they'd left
the office, Mulder taking a detour to Scully's favorite
all night ice cream place close to the Hoover building
on their way home.  When she noticed where he was
headed, at the next stoplight, she leaned over and gave
him a long, hard kiss and a smile that was worth even
more to him.  He was almost shocked when she ordered a
double cone with mint chocolate chip and black walnut,
her usual fair some kind of low cal sorbet.

"Mmmmmmm, this is sooooo good," she said as she licked
the melting ice cream, Mulder barely able to keep his
eyes on the road, much more interested in the
acrobatics of her tongue.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to have to pull
over," he told her and she giggled, knowing full well
what she was doing to him.

He started to turn toward the route to Georgetown and
she quickly stopped him.  "Let's go to your place."

"You have anything there to wear to work tomorrow?"

"I'm not going," she told him, still licking playfully
on her ice cream.

"You're not going?"

"No.  I took the day off.  I, um, figured that tonight
would be much worse than it was and, I, um, didn't
sleep all that well last night, so I..."

"Thought you'd need it," Mulder finished for her.

"And we're between cases, so..."

"You don't have to justify why you took a day off,
Scully.  I think it's great.  And I think it's great
that tonight wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.
You must've expected something really awful," he told
her, now heading towards Arlington.  "I know you'd been
crying when I came in."

"But you don't know why," she said, reaching over to
take his hand in hers, her ice cream now gone.  "I
talked to Karen about how supportive you've been."
Mulder just looked at her, not able to really say much.

"And that made you cry?"

"Yes."

"Oh," was all he could manage, seeing that she suddenly
seemed about ready to cry again.  They drove on for
several more miles in silence, Mulder's mind working
over what she had said.  "It surprises you that I'd be
supportive?" he finally said out of the blue, the tick
of the blinker an odd background.  Scully looked at him
like he'd sprouted horns and wondered how such an
intelligent man could miss the obvious so drastically.

"No," she answered simply, thinking she'd just make him
try to draw it out of her.  It was always better if
Mulder figured things out for himself.

"I don't understand."  Mulder recognized what she was
trying to do, but that didn't help him to understand
why talking about something he considered so everyday
would bring her to tears.  He pulled up to the curb in
front of his apartment house and she quickly exited the
car, heading up the sidewalk almost before he had
gotten out.  He jogged a couple of steps to catch up
with her and was surprised when she took hold of his
hand just before they entered his building.

"I'm not mad at you," Scully smiled to him once they'd
entered the privacy of his apartment.  "I can tell by
the look on your face you think I am."

"Well, you tell me I made you cry, then you don't talk
to me...  Even I'm sharp enough to figure out that
you're pissed," he told her self-deprecatingly.

Scully slid her arms around his waist, much to his
surprise and laid her head against his chest.  "I love
you," she told him easily.  "And I'm not pissed."  She
moved back to look at him, seeing that he was about as
confused as he could get and it made her chuckle.  "I
told Karen how supportive you've been and that I was
afraid I was asking too much of you."

"You can't be serious," he said.

"Very."

"Then you do need professional help," he teased.  "How
many times have you been there for me?"

"This is different," she said, letting go of him,
removing her jacket.

"How?" he asked, following her into the bedroom.

"I don't know.  It's just different," she said,
starting to undress to take a shower.  Mulder moved
closer to her, smiling at her inability to explain
herself.

"It isn't and you know it.  You can be there to give
help, but you sure can't take it.  You know that?" he
told her.  Scully looked at him for a few moments,
realizing he had her pegged.

"I hate it when you're right," she said, wrapping her
arms around his neck.  "I just don't want our
relationship to be all about my current problems."

Mulder thought about what she'd just said and wondered
why she seemed to think that's what might be happening.
"Your current problems are my problems, too, Scully.
And while working on getting you better is a part of
our relationship at the moment, it doesn't define it
any more than any of my problems do.  Or any one issue,
for that matter.  But it's something we need to deal
with right now.  And we are and you will get better,"
he told her sincerely, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You really mean that?"

Mulder smiled at her in affirmation and bent to give
her a kiss which soon grew into a bit of groping,
Mulder slowly pushing her back onto the bed.
"Mulder...  Mulder, let me take a shower first," she
tried to tell him between kisses, trying to move his
body off of hers.

"You smell just fine to me," Mulder told her, kissing
down her neck.

"Let me up.  I'll be back," she assured him, mussing
his hair as she stood, heading for his bathroom.

She had no more than gotten in the shower and had the
water temperature adjusted when the curtain opened and
he got in behind her.  "I'll wash your back," he said,
reaching for the soap, kissing the back of her neck.

"Mulder..." she said, his small shower stall barely
large enough for one, let alone both of them.

"Then you can wash mine."  He soaped his hands, giving
her the soap before beginning to rub his hands over her
shoulders, down her back, then across her bottom.  When
he did that, she reached back and took hold of each of
his hands with hers, holding them up to turn around to
face him.

"We are not doing anything in here," she told him,
knowing exactly what he had on his mind.

"I thought it was every woman's dream to be taken in
the shower," he teased.

"You've been watching too many of those videos you
don't own," she countered, squeezing a dollop of
shampoo into her hand.  "And... the sooner we finish in
here, the faster we get out, if you get my meaning."

Mulder grinned at her, reaching for the soap and
washing himself as she washed her hair.  They finished
in record time, Scully doing a quick comb of her hair,
but foregoing her moisturizer.  Mulder met her in the
bed, both of them barely dry.

"I'm freezing," Scully said, snuggling in next to him,
trying to warm herself against his body.  Mulder
wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer with
the leg he draped over her hip, his hands moving up and
down her back trying to warm her.

"That better?"

"Much," she sighed, kissing his chest.  "You feel so
good," she told him when he pulled her fully against
him as they lay facing each other on their sides,
admiring the hard muscles of his chest, the firm feel
of his abdomen.

"As do you," he told her, moving over her to turn her
to her back.  "I love the way you feel, Scully...
always... always so beautiful..." he told her, barely
whispering next to her ear when he moved further on top
of her, nuzzling her neck.  His hand moved to her
breast at the same time he kissed her and he shuddered
when her hands stroked his back, down over his bottom.

"Thank you for being there for me," she whispered to
him before kissing his neck, her lips finding their way
to his.

"Don't ever doubt it."  They kissed for several long
minutes, Mulder rubbing himself against her, Scully
responding to the feel of his erection against her
mound.

She reached down to touch him, take him in her hand to
stroke him a few times before helping him to find her
center, wanting him inside her.  She bent her knees and
opened her legs around his hips as he entered her, the
feeling of his penetration eliciting a moan, "Mmmmm,
Mulder..."

"Yeah... you, too, Scully... you feel so good," he told
her as he began to move in and out of her, his hips
slow and strong.  Scully moved her legs up further,
locking her ankles just behind his bottom as he
continued to rock against her.  She pulled her head up
from the pillow wanting just to kiss him again and
again, not letting his lips get away from hers.  She
held on as he slowly lowered her back to the pillow,
their lips never losing contact, Mulder's body flush
against hers as he continued to move within her.  He
could feel her getting close, her abdominal muscles
tightening beneath him, her breath shortening.  He
pushed harder against her wanting her to go before him
but he was having difficulty holding back much longer.

"Mmmmmm, right there, Mulder," she managed to tell him
as she worked to take herself where she wanted to go.
"Uhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed as her climax hit, her soft
tissue clamping him inside before she began to pulse
around him like a velvet glove.

"Sculllllyyyy..." he moaned, moving faster within her
as she came down, her breath panting against the
sensitive skin of his neck.  She tightened her arms
around his neck, moving her hips more firmly against
him as he continued to move, wanting him to let go.
After a few more moments, his movements quickened, but
became more erratic and she knew he was getting close.
He thrusted several more times, then letting loose
inside her, his hips grinding against her with every
surge of his fluid into her, finally emptying himself.
"Jesusssss," he sighed when he was able to catch his
breath enough to speak.

Scully held his face with her hands, willing him to
look her in the eyes.  "I love you, Mulder," she told
him openly, wanting him to hear the sincerity in her
voice, see the passion in her eyes.  "I. Love. You."

"Scully, god, I'll always love you... always," he told
her before moving off of her, lying on his back next to
her.  "C'mere," he said, opening his arms to her,
Scully snuggling into his side, Mulder pulling the
spread up over them.

He felt her relax, the puff of air from her sigh
tickling the hair on his chest and he knew that she was
already asleep.  He fell asleep soon after, but only
slept a couple of hours before waking again, the
beginning of a headache nagging him.  He slowly moved
away from her, moving the pillow under her head where
his arm had been.  He went into the bathroom to relieve
himself and drank a large glass of tap water, sex
always making him thirsty.  He popped a couple of
Tylenol in his mouth at the last minute, hoping he'd
stave off a full blown headache.

When he returned to bed, he stood there and watched her
sleep for a few moments, the strips of light through
his half-open blinds giving her an almost ethereal
look.  She looked so peaceful and yet, he knew she
wasn't; knew what she had been through this past year
was more than most people would be able to survive in a
lifetime.  But as he continued to look at her, he
smiled at thinking if others could see her like this,
looking almost childlike as she slept, they would never
imagine what a strong person she actually was.  He
always tried to protect her, but he really knew she was
the strong one.

The next morning, Scully woke to the scent of something
that smelled wonderful, her nose taking a few moments
to recognize it as baking bread, or some kind of
warming pastry.  She knew Mulder would already be up
since she hadn't set an alarm, never knowing a time
when she hadn't out slept him.  She took a quick shower
and found one of his shirts hanging on the back of the
door to wear, the tails brushing at her knees.  She
glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost eight.

"What smells so good?" she asked his back where he
stood at the counter in his kitchen.

"I got a couple of things from Murphy's when I went for
my run.  You want yours warm?" he asked, barely looking
at her.

Scully moved next to him, giving his bare bicep a soft
kiss.  "Warm is good," she said, snuggling close to
him, hoping he'd recognize her actions as her way of
telling him she wouldn't mind getting back into his
warm bed.  "But I can think of something better than
breakfast at the moment."

Mulder looked at her, wishing he didn't have a pounding
headache.  "I need to eat something.  My head is
killing me."

"Headache?"

"Yeah, I woke up with it."

"Did you take something?"

"Yeah.  I'll try again," he said, reaching up into his
cabinet for a large bottle of Tylenol.  He took three,
draining a large glass of tap water to wash them down.
"Go lie down and I'll finish getting breakfast," she
told him.


"Scully, I'm not going back to bed," he snapped back at
her.


She gave him a glare, "I meant the couch.  I'll bring
it in."  He picked up his glass of juice and went into
the living room, stretching out on the couch, turning
the television on with the remote, flipping channels
until he found CNN.


A few minutes later, Scully joined him, setting a plate
with a bagel and cream cheese in front of him along
with a cup of coffee.  "Can I sit?" she said, a bit of
irritation in her voice that he hadn't moved to make
room for her.  He moved his feet, seemingly paying no
mind to the food she sat on the table.  She took a bite
of her own bagel and settled back into his couch with
her mug of coffee, watching him paying her no mind.
"That must be some headache."


Finally, he glanced over at her, realizing he had been
fairly rude to her because of his preoccupation with
the pounding in his head.  "Sorry.  I, uh, it just
seems to be getting worse.  You have anything stronger
than Tylenol?" he asked, knowing she had quite a stash
of medications that she had picked up here and there
and saved for a rainy day.


"Yeah, but not with me.  My bag's at home," she told
him, remembering that she didn't have it in her car.


Mulder got up off the couch and headed for the kitchen
again, Scully quickly following him.  "Mulder, you just
took three Tylenol, you shouldn't take any more for at
least a couple of hours."


"I'm getting a glass of water," he snapped, his voice
harsh.  "Stop hovering."


"Hovering?  Would it be hovering if I went to my
apartment and got you something better for your
headache?" she asked, a tinge of sarcasm to her voice.


"I'd appreciate it," was all he'd said in response,
returning to lie down on his couch.


And despite the fact that she was fairly irritated at
him for his nasty mood, she knew his headache must be
bad or he wouldn't have been acting the way he was, the
previous evening and night having been so good.


Scully had gotten him a pillow from his bed and sat
another glass of water on the table by him before she
left, telling him she'd be back in a couple of hours
and would bring him something to eat.  He didn't bother
to tell her he wasn't hungry and could care less what
she brought as long as she had something that would
help his pounding head.


He had finally fallen asleep, more out of necessity to
relieve his head than actual need for sleep.  But at
least his head didn't hurt when he slept.  He woke when
he heard his door open, knowing it must be Scully.


"Feeling any better?" she asked when she walked into
the living room, carrying her medical bag.

"Um, yeah, my, um headache seems to be a bit better.  I
slept," he told her, rubbing his eyes with the heels of
his hands.

She tossed her jacket into a chair and sat down next to
him, opening her bag.  "Well, I've got something that
would probably make you sleep again, if you want to
take it."

"I think I'm getting the flu or something," he said,
realizing he felt like absolute shit.

"If I wouldn't be hovering, I can check your temp," she
told him, still a bit hurt by his earlier mood.  He
didn't answer her, but took the thermometer after she
shook it and handed it to him.  He kept it in his mouth
for a minute or so, handing it back to her without
saying anything to her.  "100.7.  Yep, you've got a
temperature.  Here, take these," she said, handing him
an antibiotic and a couple of Vitamin C's.

"What are these?" he asked, not meaning to be rude, but
his question only serving to piss her off.

"Cyanide," she answered sarcastically.

"Goddammit, I'm just asking," he said, now pissed
himself.

"Take another one of these before you go to bed," she
said, glaring at him as she took a deep breath to
temper her growing irritation at his mood.  She handed
him a small medicine bottle, "And if your headache
comes back, you can take one of these," handing him a
small white packet.  "But only one, Mulder.  I mean
it," she said, closing her bag, standing from the
couch.

"I hear you," he said, propping his feet on the coffee
table, leaning his head against the back of the couch.
Scully got her jacket from the chair across the room,
thinking it would probably be better if she left him
alone.  She really didn't like anyone around either
when she was sick.  "You leaving?"

"Yes.  I'll call later.  If you need anything or get
worse, call me," she told him, but he didn't really
acknowledge her words.  "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you.  I'll call if I need anything or get
worse," he parroted back to her.

In spite of herself, she walked over to him and bent to
give him a soft kiss on his forehead, feeling his fever
against her lips.  "Feel better..."

Mulder barely noticed she had left and took the pills
as she'd told him.  He lay around most of the day,
finally going out later in the day to go down the
street for a paper, but barely read it when he got back
to his apartment.  Scully had called around dinner
time, but he'd turned down her offer of bringing over
something to eat, telling her he'd probably take the
other pill she'd left for him and go to sleep.  She
knew it was best to leave him alone in his misery and
told him she'd check on him the next day.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VA
The next day, April 11
Mulder had slept fitfully, his throat getting sore, his
headache reappearing with a vengeance and he had been
up several times during the night.  Scully hadn't
called yet, so he figured she would probably just stop
by, and he didn't really want company, even her.  So
when he heard someone walk up to his door, he thought
it might be her until he heard the knock and knew it
wasn't her recognizable tap.  He filled yet another
glass with water from his kitchen tap, taking a couple
more aspirin with a gulp of water and headed to the
door, wondering who was being so insistent as the
knocking continued.

Mulder was visibly annoyed to find all three of the
Gunmen outside his door when he'd answered it, his
greeting of, "What are you guys doing here?" fairly
much a snarl.  They barely seemed to notice him, all of
them in a hurry to get into his apartment and out of
the hall.  At least Byers had asked if they could come
in, but only after they were essentially already in.
"I'm not feeling well. I didn't sleep last night," he
tried to tell them, but they just moved on into the
living room, Frohike looking out through the closed
blinds, seemingly looking for something, or someone.
"I'm really not in the mood for the three stooges,"
Mulder snarled again, sitting down on his couch.

"I don't think we've been followed," Frohike said,
closing the blinds.

"Who would follow you?" Mulder muttered, holding his
head in his hands, wishing they would just leave.

"Multinational Multinational Black Opps unit. Code name
Garnett," Byers told him, Mulder almost laughing at his
seriousness.

"Trained killers. School of the American Alumni,"
Langly added.

"You boys been defacing library books again?" Mulder
said sarcastically.

"They don't want us. They want him," Frohike told him,
handing him a small piece of paper.

"Kenneth Suna," Mulder read from the paper, tossing it
disinterestedly onto the coffee table.

"We think that's his real name," Langly added.

"You've heard us refer to him as The Thinker," Byers
began to explain.

Mulder was still barely paying attention, rubbing his
face with his hand, hoping some of the headache would
go away.  "What'd he do?" he mumbled.

"Hacked into the defense department computer system,"
Byers said.

"What?" Mulder asked, finally looking up at him, Byers
last words getting his attention fast.

Byers continued, "The Thinker's an anarchist and a
snoop. Whatever he got into has made him a very wanted
man. Customs and immigration are on full alert. Every
port of egress is closed."

"What are you coming to me for?" Mulder asked wondering
just what his three motley friends wanted from him.

"In his last communique', The Thinker named a meeting
place and a three hour time window. He asked
specifically for you," Byers continued.  Mulder shook
his head, not knowing what this man who he had never
met could possibly want with him

"The only problem is he may already be dead," Langly
interjected.

But before anyone could say more, they were all
startled by the sound of a gunshot, Mulder grabbing his
gun before all four of them rushed out of his apartment
and down the hall to find out what had happened.  When
they rounded the corner, down another hall, they found
a group of neighbors already gathered outside of
another apartment.

The Gunmen stayed back, peeking around the corner as
Mulder moved quickly to the crowd.  "What happened?"
Mulder asked a middle aged woman in the hall, both of
them watching as another neighbor tried to console an
elderly lady, near hysterics inside the apartment.

"She just shot her husband. They'd been married for
thirty years. It's like she went crazy," the woman told
Mulder.

"Everybody go back to your apartment, we'll handle
this," Mulder heard the police officers say as they
arrived.  He slid his gun inside the front of his
jeans, covering it with his t-shirt figuring it would
be better just to stay out of things.  Mulder looked
back at the Gunmen, beginning to connect the
information they'd just shared with him to the erratic
behavior of his neighbor.

"Weirdness," Frohike said before the three of them left
him standing in the hall wondering what the hell had
just happened.

Mulder went back inside his apartment and picked up the
slip of paper Frohike had given him, and read the time
and place that this mysterious 'Thinker' had given
them.  Maybe he would check it out.  He heard a knock
at his door and, this time, recognized it as Scully's.
"Mulder?" she said, letting herself in through the
unlocked door.  "What's going on?" she asked as she
entered his living room.

"My neighbor just shot her husband," he told her,
rubbing his eyes again.

"You're kidding," she said, joining him on the couch.

"Nope.  Just another friendly day in the neighborhood,"
he said, giving her a smile, but she could tell he was
disturbed by it.

"Did you know her?" she asked sympathetically.

"Barely," he said, getting up from the couch and
heading for the kitchen, looking in the fridge for some
juice.  "Want some?" he asked her when she joined him.

"No thanks.  I think you need it more than I do.  I
take it you're still not feeling well," she observed.
He gave her an affirming glance and took a long swig
out of the jug of orange juice.  "Headache any better?"

Despite how he felt, he knew he'd been downright rude
to her the day before and was going to try his best to
be civil.  "Yeah, a little bit, I think.  The stuff you
left for me really helped.  Thanks," he said, leaning
back against the counter edge.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not much.  I've just been thirsty as hell," he said,
taking another swig of the juice.

"Yeah, that's probably a side-effect from the pills,"
she told him.  "But it's good for you to drink plenty
of fluids."

Mulder had gone back to sit on the couch while Scully
searched his cabinets, not finding much in the way of
food to make anything to eat.  "I'll go get us
something to eat," she told him.  "Any requests?"

"I'm not hungry, really," he told her.

"Well, I am.  I'll run over to Culpepper's.  I'll bring
you something tasty," she told him, smoothing her hand
over his hair.  Mulder nodded, unable to look at her,
knowing he wouldn't be there when she got back.

US BOTANIC GARDEN
WASHINGTON, DC
The garden was beautiful in the early evening darkness,
the flowers in their spring bloom.  Mulder sat on a
brick ledge surrounding one of the flower beds, waiting
for someone to show up who looked like they might be
looking for him.  And he didn't have to wait long, a
grunge type guy carrying a manila envelope walking past
him, giving him a glance.  Mulder stood and followed
him a few steps before he stopped and spoke.

"I... I don't want you to know my real name. I... I
just don't think it's that important that you know,"
the guy told him by way of introduction.

"Sounds like a line I used in a bar once."

"Look, I'm sorry about the wait but I kinda got this
ninja party shagging my butt."

"Why? What've you got," Mulder asked, feeling a bit of
excitement at what this hacker may have uncovered.

"Well, if I'm correct I got the original defense
department's UFO intelligence files. Everything from
the 1940's and up," he said proudly.

"Everything?" Mulder said, almost unbelieving of what
he was hearing.

"Everything. Roswell, MJ12 and beyond," he told Mulder.

"You've read them."

"Not entirely. I downloaded all I could and then I
split. I mean, I knew that these guys would be after
me."

"What makes you think they know who you are?" Mulder
asked, thinking the guy might be overestimating his
importance.

"I didn't take any precautions. I mean I... I didn't
even expect to get inside," he explained, handing
Mulder the package.

"You know they always denied that these files even
existed," Mulder said, looking at the other man
intently, wondering just what his motives might be.
"What do you want from me?"

"I want the truth. And I want you to promise that those
rat bastards answer to the people," the man told him
sincerely and Mulder nodded, his gut telling him the
guy was genuine.

Mulder had gone back to his apartment, pulling his gun
when he found it unlocked, now somewhat paranoid
because of the package he carried under his jacket.
But when he entered and found two carry-out sacks on
his table, he knew Scully had been there and left.  He
also knew she was probably pissed.  And when he found
her short note, he knew so.  *M- Enjoy your dinner.*
"Ouch," he said out loud.  He would explain to Scully
after he'd looked at the tape.

He didn't even look at what she'd bought, simply taking
the sacks and setting them in his refrigerator, heading
to his computer to see what was on the DAT tape in the
package Suna had given him.  He may just hold the key
to everything he had been searching for in his hand.
He booted up his computer, pushing the tape in his
external DAT drive.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself, seeing that his computer
didn't have enough memory to read the sophisticated
files on the tape.  He knew he'd have to take the tape
to an FBI computer or take it to the Gunmen and he
figured it best, for now, to keep what he had to
himself.

Continued in Pt. 6.
Feedback welcomed at philer@onemain.com



TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 6
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK: philer@onemain.com

FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON, DC
The next morning, April 12
Mulder had intended to go into work early, but he had
taken one of the pills Scully had left for him and he
had overslept a bit.  When he got to the office, Scully
wasn't there and he figured she was still pissed.  He
hung his jacket on the back of the door and immediately
booted up his computer, sliding the DAT tape into the
drive.

Just then, Scully stuck her head in the door, relaying
a message he was sure she was given.  "Mulder,
Skinner's looking for you."

He looked up, trying to judge her demeanor.  "Come in
and lock the door," he told her, figuring he'd just
come clean about where he had gone to the previous
night.

"Why, what's going on?" she asked, seeing that he
seemed a bit frazzled, locking the door behind her as
he'd asked.

"Are you familiar with the ten commandments Scully?"

"You want me to recite them?" she asked and he knew she
could.

"No. Just number 4, the one about obeying the Sabbath,
the part about where God made Heaven and Earth but
didn't bother to tell anybody about his side projects,"
he told her quickly.

Scully looked at him, noticing the strange smile on his
face, wondering about his obscure reference.  "What are
you talking about?"

"The biggest lie of all," he smiled, pointing to his
computer screen as 'Department Of Defense. Top Secret'
popped up.

Scully noticed the screen, realizing that Mulder had
gotten into files that he shouldn't have.  "What is
this?" she asked, moving around the desk next to his
side to view the screen.

"The Holy Grail. The original defense department files.
Hard evidence that the government has known about the
existence of extraterrestrials for over fifty years,"
he told her excitedly, waiting for the directory to
come up.

Scully watched him closely, seeing that he seemed
agitated or excited or something, surely not himself.
"Where did you get this?"

"Your friendly neighborhood anarchist," he told her,
the files finally appearing on the screen.  But when he
saw it, the smile of excitement disappeared from his
face. "I don't believe this," he said, scanning to the
next page and to the next, seeing that they were all
the same.  "This is just gibberish."  He stood, almost
shoving Scully out of the way as he hit his pencil
holder, sending the cup and its contents half way
across the room. "Damn it!" he yelled, kicking his
wastebasket as Scully looked on, now sincerely worried
about his mood.  "I'm so sick of this crap, BS and
double talk. I can't believe this."

Scully watched him pace in anger, but glancing back at
the computer screen, sitting down in his chair to take
a closer look.  "Mulder, this may not be gibberish."
"It's a joke Scully, it's a bad joke."

"I think it's just encrypted and I think I recognize
it," she told him calmly, hoping her words might settle
him down. "It looks like Navajo. It was used in World
War II," she began, Mulder moving back over to look at
the screen again.  "My father told me it was the only
code the Japanese couldn't break, I... I remember the
long strings of consonants," she told him, pointing to
the writing on the screen.

"Well can you find out?" he asked calmly.

"Well only a handful of people can decipher it."

"Then find one of 'em," he said, quickly walking toward
the door of the office, remembering he had to go see
his boss.

She took a deep breath, still worried about his strange
demeanor.  "Mulder. Are you okay?" she asked, now
wondering if he had been suffering from more than a
bout of the flu.

"Yeah. I just haven't been sleeping," he told her as he
left, Scully just staring at his back as he walked out,
stunned that was all the explanation he'd given her.

As soon as Mulder had exited the elevator on the fourth
floor, he saw Skinner come out of his office and round
the corner, probably going to look for him.

"Sir," Mulder said, walking up behind him, Skinner
turning around to face him.

"Agent Mulder. I need to speak with you."

"About?" his mood still terse.

Skinner looked around, seeing that the hallway was a
bit too crowded for a private conversation.  "In my
office."

"Why? Is this another jerk off assignment where I end
up doing the government's dirty work?"

Skinner lowered his voice and moved closer to Mulder so
that others wouldn't hear.  "It's about a rumor that
you may be in receipt of some sensitive files."

"I don't know anything about that," Mulder said
unconvincingly.

"Agent Mulder listen..." Skinner started, but Mulder
turned to walk away from him.  "I'm talking to you..."
Skinner said, reaching for Mulder's shoulder to stop
him.

But Mulder turned on him, punching him squarely in the
jaw, the older man's glasses flying off his face.
Mulder moved in and swung at him again, another agent
coming up from behind to try to stop him.  But Mulder
tried to get out of his grasp, Skinner righting himself
enough to grab Mulder, getting him in a quick headlock,
Mulder no match for his larger, bulkier boss.  "Are we
finished, Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked him as he kept
Mulder trapped in his hold.  "Are we done?"  Skinner
let go of him, slinging him away from him.  "We're
done."

OFFICE OF WALTER SKINNER, AD
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
The next day, April 13
As soon as Scully entered the room, she was met by
Skinner, replete with a swollen lip and a bruised face.
She couldn't look at him, knowing full well where his
injuries had come from.  She had tried to call Mulder
several times the previous afternoon, finally reaching
him early in the evening.  She had asked again if he
was alright and where he had gone to after he'd left
the office.

"I came home," he told her flatly.

"Why?"

"I'm sure you'll be hearing about it.  I punched
Skinner," he told her like he was reporting on the
day's weather.

"You what?" she asked slowly, unable to believe what he
had just told her.

"I just need some time, Scully.  I'll see you
tomorrow," was all he'd said and hung up.  She was so
angry with him, she figured it was best if they didn't
see each other, but on the other hand she had been very
worried.  And she was even more worried the next
morning when Mulder didn't show up for work and she was
called in to a meeting with Skinner.  What she didn't
know until she got there was that there were four other
directors there as well.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" she asked uncomfortably,
knowing Mulder was in deep trouble.

"Yes, Agent Scully.  Please have a seat," Skinner said,
seemingly almost as uncomfortable as she was.

Scully moved to the table with the others,
straightening her suit jacket as she sat.  "Agent
Scully, you heard about the incident here, in the
hallway yesterday," one of the men asked, watching her
closely.

"Yes Sir," she answered as nonchalantly as she could.

The same man spoke again, the others just looking on.
"Do you have any explanation as to Agent Mulder's,
bizarre behavior?"

"No Sir. Agent Mulder told me he was having trouble
sleeping," she offered.  It wasn't actually a lie, but
she knew it wasn't the whole truth either.  Something
was wrong with Mulder.  She just wished she knew what.

One of the other men finally spoke, a director she knew
to be Section Chief Blevins' right hand man.  "Do you
think agent Mulder confides in you agent Scully?"

She thought it was a bit of an odd question, figuring
he was trying to set her up for something.  "Of course,
he's my partner."

"Your partner. Weren't you originally assigned to agent
Mulder to debunk his work?" the man at the end of the
table asked, someone she had never seen before.

"Yes sir. A year and a half ago. I've been writing
regular reports stating the validity of Agent Mulder's
work on the X-Files," she said, hoping to appease them,
but barely able to catch her breath.

"Would you lie to protect him?" the same man asked.

"Am I being accused of lying?" she said, the emotion
creeping into her voice, knowing she was in some kind
of deep shit, as was Mulder.

Blevins' man spoke again, this time with much more of
an edge to his voice, obviously trying to intimidate
her.  "Agent Mulder has been notified of a disciplinary
hearing. If there's something we learn at that meeting
that you haven't stated here today, you could be
subject to the same summary action."

"What action is that?" she asked, trying not to let her
nervousness show.

"Dismissal without chance of reinstatement," Skinner
told her, Scully looking him square in the eyes.

"Is that all Sir?" she asked, hoping that Skinner would
let her get the hell out of there.

"Yes Agent Scully, thank you," he answered, barely able
to look at her.  She stood quickly, hoping to get out
of there before anyone could ask her another question.

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VA
Later that day                                   Scully
had called his cell, but he wasn't answering. She was
pissed and worried and several other emotions she
couldn't quite sort, so she left work to find him. She
knocked a couple of times, but his door was unlocked,
so she slowly walked in, finding him asleep on his
couch, walking slowly up to him.  But she startled him
and he jerked awake grabbing for his gun where it lay
on his coffee table.

"You didn't answer your door," she said quickly.

"Uhhh," Mulder growled, wiping his face with his hands,
trying to wake himself up. "I took a pill."

Scully just watched him, seeing that he was not
himself.  "I couldn't find you at work. I was worried
about you."

"I came home," he muttered, taking a drink of water. "I
must be running a fever. Maybe it's the threat of being
burned at the stake," he joked, smiling up at her where
she stood over him.

She wasn't in the mood for his humor and she was
growing very tired of his insolence, regardless of the
fact that he was ill.  "They called me in today."

Mulder sat up further, leaning back into the leather of
his couch.  "What did you tell them?"

She hesitated before answering, her irritation now very
obvious in her expression.  "That nothing was wrong."

"Well you told them the truth then."

"Mulder, you opened the door for them, they're just
looking for a good reason now," she told him, something
she knew he already knew.

"Okay, I'll say I'm sorry," he said snottily, relaxing
further against his couch.  Scully was biting her
tongue, trying to hold her temper and not just scream
at him.

"Mulder, these files. Who knows you have them?" she
asked, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to
look at her.

"Why?"

"Because I had to lie today. And I put my job in
jeopardy in order to do so," she told him firmly. "If
they find out about those files..."

"How would they find out?" he raised his voice,
interrupting her.

"Maybe they already know. The question is, is it worth
it? Is this cassette worth risking everything?" she
asked, her voice almost breaking.  Both of them knew
she meant not only their jobs and the X-Files, but
possibly their relationship as well.

"I'll tell you when I find out what's on it. Now just
tell me who I can talk to about breaking that code," he
yelled at her.

Scully just stared at him, angry and hurt that he was
treating her like he was.  "I'm meeting with someone in
an hour. I might know something later tonight," she
told him, Mulder unable to meet her stare.  "I just
need some kind of assurance that they're not going to
let us hang ourselves with this! That I'm doing the
right thing!"

Mulder finally looked at her, realizing that he was
jeopardizing everything that she had as well, knowing
she had good reason to be angry with him.  Mulder got
up and walked to his window, putting an 'x' in his
window with masking tape, Scully knowing that's how he
messaged his secret source.  "I'll try to find out," he
said quietly, knowing by the look on her face that he
had hurt her.

There were so many things she wanted to ask him, but
was so angry with him, she knew it wasn't the time.
And she had an appointment to keep.  But she needed to
ask one question.  "I need to know one more thing
Mulder. Why did you attack Skinner?"

Mulder looked at her and she could see that, in his own
way, he was trying to apologize for his terrible
disposition.  "I've thought of that Scully. I honestly
can't say."  And he couldn't.  He had no idea what was
actually wrong with him, but she knew it was more than
the flu and she was worried even more.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, DC
Later that evening
Scully had paid a visit to the offices of the Navajo
nation to see if someone could decipher the single page
of hard copy she had from the DAT tape, Mulder not able
to get any more from it.  The office's representative
had told her she would need an actual code talker to
interpret the code and she would put him in contact
with her.

In the meantime, Mulder had received a call from his
father asking him to come to his house, a request his
distant parent rarely made.  Mulder knew it must be
important and suspected that it may be related in some
way to the state department tape.  But after he'd
gotten there, his father seemed to talk in circles,
never really getting to the point before he excused
himself to the bathroom.  And that's when all hell
broke loose, Mulder hearing a gunshot coming from the
restroom where his father had gone.

"Forgive me," his father had said to him as he lay
dying in his arms.

"Dad... Oh, Dad..."

After Scully had left the Navajo nation office, she
went straight to Mulder's apartment, wanting to share
with him what she'd found and wanting to check on him.
But when she got there, the apartment was dark and he
wasn't home, the taped 'x' still on his window.  She
looked on his desk for any sign of where he'd gone, but
barely had time to look before a shot rang out, coming
through his window and lodging in the plaster wall.
She had fallen to the floor, realizing she'd just
escaped with her life when she felt the blood on her
forehead where the bullet had grazed her.  Now she was
even more scared for Mulder.  She didn't know what to
do or where to go look for him so she decided to just
stay at his apartment, hoping he'd return or at least
call.  But the call she got wasn't one she expected.

"Hello," she answered her cell quickly, just sitting at
his table waiting.

"My father's dead, Scully."



"Where are you?" she asked, now scared beyond belief.


"They shot him.  He's dead," Mulder told her painfully.


"Mulder, where are you?  Just tell me where you are,"
she pleaded.


"I'm on the Vineyard," he told her, knowing she would
know he was at his father's house.


"Who shot him, Mulder?" Scully sincerely fearing that
it had been Mulder


"I don't know."


"Mulder, were you arguing?"


"Ohhhh, I didn't do it, Scully," he said breathlessly
realizing even she thought he might have done it,
knowing everyone else would.  "He was trying to tell me
something."


"Mulder, listen to me..."


"You gotta believe me, Scully."


"Mulder, I believe you.  Just listen to me.  You've got
to get out of there.  You have to leave immediately,"
she told him, almost panicked at what someone would
think if they found him there.


"I can't leave the crime scene.  It'll look like I'm
running," Mulder told her, knowing he was innocent.
"Make me look guilty."


She almost couldn't believe what he was saying, knowing
she was making the right call on this one.  "Mulder
they're gonna suspect you anyway, you've got no ID on
the shooter, you, your behavior has been irrational
lately.  Mulder can't you see that everything is
pointing directly at you?"


"He was shot with somebody else's weapon," he tried to
reason.


"Damn it Mulder, you're an FBI agent.  You have access
to weapons other than your own," she yelled at him,
hoping to convince him to listen to her.


"All right. Meet me back at my apartment," he said, his
voice breaking.


"No. No you can't come home. Someone shot through your
window tonight; they almost killed me.  They might be
trying to kill you."


"Jesus, Scully..." Mulder said tearfully.


"I'll meet you back at my place," she told him, hoping
it would be safe.  "And Mulder... Please be careful."


Scully had gotten there first, but not by much.  She
had driven around Arlington, doubling back several
times, trying to discern if anyone was following her.
She hadn't noticed anyone, feeling safe about going
home, well almost.


She almost ran from her place in the kitchen when she
heard the knock at the door.  "Oh... Mulder... My God.
Look at you. You're sick," she said, shocked at
Mulder's ragged appearance.


"I'm okay," he said, reaching for her, so tired all
he'd been through he felt he was barely able to stand
up.  As she was trying to unzip his coat, he almost
stumbled toward the chair closest to him, but she
stopped him.

"No, come on, I want you to lie down. Woah, come on. I
want you to lie down.  Let me take your coat off," she
said, seeing the blood stains all over the front of his
checked shirt.

"We gotta find them Scully," he told her as she led him
into her bedroom.

"Right now you have to lie down. Come here," she said,
steering him to the bed, helping him to lie down.  She
touched him gently, her mind racing in a hundred
different directions.  But, at the moment, she needed
to attend to him, worried that he was so sick.  She
went into the bathroom to get a cold cloth, hoping to
cool his fever.

"We gotta find out who killed my father," he called to
her from the bed, struggling to sit up.

"Well right now you need to rest, okay, rest," she told
him, helping him to lie back down, putting a cold cloth
on his forehead, touching his warm cheek.  "Okay? Rest.
It's okay. It's okay."


"My father..." he said and she could tell he was trying
not to cry.  She knew his relationship with his father
had been a rocky one ever since his sister had
disappeared, but she also knew he still loved his
father, probably holding out some hope that someday
things would be better.

"I know...  I know..." she comforted, reaching to hold
him, kiss his cheek.  He held onto her tightly, finally
letting his tears come as she cradled him in her arms.

"Scully..." he cried into the fabric of her suit.

"I'm here... I'm right here."

After he'd settled a bit, she helped him to undress
down to his boxers and got him back into bed.  "Here,
take this," she said, handing him a small white tablet
and a glass of water.  "You need to rest."

"You coming to bed?" he asked after he'd swallowed the
pill, taking hold of her hand, hoping she wouldn't
leave him alone.

She gave him a small smile and nodded, "I'll be in in a
minute.  Now rest."

After she'd taken a quick shower, she snuggled in
beside him, not sure if he was sleeping or just
resting.  He looked so worn out.  But he opened his
eyes, locating her by the soft glow of the moon through
the window.  "I thought maybe you were sleeping," she
whispered to him.

"I wish..."

"The pill should be kicking in pretty soon."

"Jesus, Scully, what the hell is happening?" he sighed,
still not believing his father had been killed and he
had tried to beat the crap out of his boss.

She moved up on her elbow, looking down at him as he
lay next to her.  "I don't know.  But we'll find out,
Mulder.  I promise you we'll find out."  And she laid
her head down on his shoulder, listening to his heart
beat, noticing when the steady cadence of his breathing
slowed down and she realized he was finally able to
find sleep.

Continued in Pt. 7

Feedback welcomed at philer@onemain.com



TITLE:  As It Might Have Been, Season 2, Pt. 7
AUTHOR:  Dyann Zimmerman
FEEDBACK: philer@onemain.com


MOUNTAINVIEW MOTEL
FARMINGTON, NM
April 16
Scully had gotten up early the next morning, Mulder
still sound asleep.  She knew he'd be angry if he knew
how strong the sleeping pill was she'd given him the
previous night, but she knew he needed to decompress.
Leaving him to sleep, she had taken his gun to run
forensic tests on it, wanting a formal record which
might be needed later to clear his name.  But he was
furious when he'd discovered she'd taken his weapon and
left him in the apartment, yelling at her over the
phone, saying some things she knew he didn't really
believe. And her intuition was telling her that
whatever had been making him so ill tempered the last
couple of days wasn't just the flu.

After he'd hung up on her, she wasn't sure where he'd
go, but wanted to get back to his apartment in case he
went there.  She also wanted to dig the bullet that had
been fired through his window at her out of the wall,
having a sneaking suspicion that it might match the
bullet that would eventually be removed from his
father's body.  But after she'd removed the bullet from
the plaster, she'd noticed a truck outside Mulder's
building loading some kind of large canister that
appeared to be a water softener container.

Following her hunch, she went into Mulder's basement
and found the mixing nozzle on the bottle to Mulder's
floor to be brand new, the others old and corroded.
Someone had been tampering with Mulder's water.

Later, Mulder arrived at his building in a cab,
noticing someone hiding behind the edge of his
building.  He went in his building, doubling back,
seeing that it was Alex Krycek, probably lying in wait
to kill him, too.  Mulder went after him, getting the
best of him, beating him up pretty badly and taking his
gun.  "I'm gonna kill you anyway Krycek so you may as
well tell me the truth," Mulder yelled at him, pointing
Krycek's own gun directly at his face.  "Did you kill
my father? Did you kill him... answer me!"

Scully had heard the fighting and ran out just as
Mulder seemed ready to pull the trigger.  "Mulder,
don't shoot him. Just back away," she told him,
pointing her gun at them.

"He killed my father, Scully!" Mulder yelled back at
her, now totally out of control.

"I have him, Mulder," she told him, knowing that if he
killed Krycek, Mulder's life would also be over.

"No Scully..." Mulder yelled and she could see that he
was going to pull the trigger and shoot Krycek point
blank.  She had no option but to stop him, aiming
carefully and shooting Mulder in a place she knew would
stop him, but not kill him.  And she succeeded, Mulder
falling to the ground, a shocked Krycek running away.
Scully immediately ran to Mulder, double checking where
her bullet had landed to make sure he wasn't seriously
wounded.

"Oh my God. Somebody call the police!" a woman's voice
echoed out of the dark and Scully knew she had to get
him out of there.

"Mulder... Mulder," Scully yelled at him, slapping his
cheek to rouse him.  "We've got to get out of here."
She helped him up, Mulder knowing she was right.

"Oh, fuck," he said, his shoulder hurting like hell as
they ran down the street to Scully's car.  She helped
him in the car, lying him down in the back seat,
speeding off before anyone had seen them.

Once she had gotten far enough out of Mulder's
neighborhood, she had pulled over in a parking lot, out
of the view of the few cars that passed by.  Mulder was
moaning once in a while, seemingly in and out with his
pain and from whatever had been put in his water.  She
had filled her syringe with enough Demerol to ease his
pain and to make him sleep, injecting him without him
even realizing what had happened.  "I'm so sorry," she
said as she'd given him a soft kiss.  "Sleep..."  She
cleaned and dressed his wound after the drug had taken
effect and went into a discount store to buy a couple
of blankets and a cheap pillow, making him more
comfortable for the long ride ahead of them.

She had driven for about five hours, making it into
Ohio before he had finally woken.  It was almost
daylight and she had pulled into a BP station to
refuel.  "Mulder, I'm going to give you another
injection, but I want you to take this antibiotic
first," she told him, trying to help him sit up a bit.

"Uhhhhhh," he groaned, Scully feeling horrible about
the pain he was having, but thankful he was safe.

"Open," she said, laying the pill on his tongue,
putting a bottle of water to his lips.  "Drink."   She
could tell that he was barely able to know what was
going on, his eyes swimming around in their sockets.
And that's the way she wanted to keep him until she got
them to where they were going.

"I need to pee," he managed to slur.

"Can you hold it for a few minutes?" she asked
hopefully.  "I'll be right back."  She went into the
station and bought a large container of orange juice
and a few other things easy for her to eat while she
drove.  She poured the juice out on the ground next to
the car, crawling in the back seat with Mulder.  "Here,
Mulder.  We can use this," she told him showing him the
plastic bottle.  She couldn't risk trying to get him
out of the car, someone would surely notice since he
would probably barely be able to walk.  And all the
clothes he had were bloody.

She started to unzip his pants, his slurred comment of
"Not now, I have a headache," bringing a reluctant
smile to her face.  "Can you help me?" she asked,
hoping he could.  She held the bottle close to him and
he found the opening with his hand, placing himself
inside.  He couldn't resist a sigh when he finally
began to pee, his bladder having been uncomfortably
full.

"Thanks," he said when he'd finished. She emptied the
bottle on the ground with the orange juice, figuring he
might just need the make shift urinal again.  She gave
him another injection of Demerol, checking his bandage
to see that he had no bleeding and covering him with
the blanket before heading back out on the highway to
New Mexico.

She had driven straight through, only stopping when she
had to to refuel or to give him another injection.  By
the end of the next day, she had changed his bandage
again and everything looked good.  She was relieved for
that.  She finally made it to Farmington, near Two Grey
Hills, late the next day and found an out of the way
motel, wanting to get them settled in for the rest of
the night.  "Come on, Mulder.  We need to get you out
of the car.  We're at a motel," she told him, so tired
herself she felt like she could barely walk.

Mulder groaned when he sat up, but he made it and she
helped him out of the car and into the room.  She had
taken all of their things in before she had attempted
to rouse him, so she locked the door behind them.  She
helped him to the bathroom and then to undress and got
him settled in bed, most likely without him knowing
much of what was going on.  She could see that his pain
was significant from all the movement so she gave him
another injection, wanting him to rest soundly for the
night.  She took off everything of hers except her bra
and panties and crawled in next to him, falling asleep
as soon as she snuggled in.

She wasn't sure how long she'd slept, but she could
tell by the amount of sun sneaking in around the edges
of the tacky motel curtains that it must be at least
mid morning.  Mulder was still sleeping soundly, so she
took a hot shower and dressed and went in search of the
code talker who had contacted her.

After she'd located him, he'd said he'd meet her at the
motel and she'd returned to check on Mulder.  She'd
helped him to the bathroom again and got his jeans on
him, laying him back down on the bed again.  A little
while later, Albert Hosteen arrived at their room,
Scully hoping he could decipher the few pages they were
able to print from the DAT tape.

"He's awake," Albert said, seeing Mulder rouse for the
first time since he'd arrived in their room.  Mulder
looked up, seeing a Native American man looking down at
him, thinking that maybe he'd died.

Scully came over to the bed, sitting down next to him.
"Mulder, Mulder it's me," she said, hoping he could
orient himself to her voice.  "Here drink some of that,
you haven't had any water in over 36 hours."  She
handed him a glass, but his eyes closed again.  He knew
if he didn't sit up, he would fall asleep again, so he
struggled to rise.

"Owww," he moaned as he sat up.

"Your shoulder's going to be fine. The round went
through nice and clean," she told him, fluffing some
pillows behind his back, leaning him back against them.

"You shot me," he said angrily, seemingly just
remembering what had happened almost two days before.

"Yes, I did. You didn't give me much choice; you were
going to shoot Krycek."

"Why'd you shoot me? He's the one," he asked, still
angry.

"If he is, then his weapon is probably the same one
that killed your father," she tried to explain.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you killed Krycek with that weapon, there would
have been no way to prove that you didn't kill your
father," she told him, understanding finally
registering on his face.  He now realized what she had
done for him.  "I'm sorry about your father Mulder, I
haven't been able to tell you," she told him tenderly,
Mulder's face softening at her words.

"How'd you know it was Krycek?" he asked, finally
taking a sip of the water she'd given him.

"I didn't," she sighed.  "I went back to your apartment
to pull the slug from the wall."  She got up from her
place next to him on the bed and picked up a baggie
from the small table next to where Albert sat working
on the papers she had given him.  "But I noticed an
unmarked van delivering soft water and I found this in
one of the tanks servicing your building," she
explained, showing him what was in the baggie.

"What is it?"

"It's a dialysis filter. It's a device used in the
transmission of substances to solution.  Considering
the level of psychosis you were experiencing, it was
probably LSD, amphetamines or some kind of exotic
dopamine agonist."

"Oh my God. There was a murder in my building," Mulder
figuring out why his nice elderly neighbor had suddenly
killed her husband.

"Well it wasn't an exercise in subtlety," she told him,
remembering how angry and hurtful he'd been towards
her, now understanding why.  "Mulder, these men are
quite possibly the same ones who killed your father and
who systematically tried to destroy you by turning
everyone you could trust against you. I don't think I
have to tell you why."

"I'd gotten too close to the truth," his eyes meeting
hers as she nodded in agreement.  Finally, Mulder moved
his gaze from hers and looked around the room.  "Where
are we?"

"We're in Farmington, New Mexico," she told him,
knowing he'd wonder why in the hell why.  "We've just
driven two days across country.  I had to put you out
to let the side effects of the psychosis abate."
Albert walked over closer to the bed, wanting to talk
to the mysterious traveler that he had many things to
talk to about.  "This is Albert Hosteen, he's been
translating your files."

"You're lucky she's a good shot," Albert kidded him.

"Or a bad one," Mulder teased, happy he'd garnered a
smile from Scully.

"Albert was a Navajo code talker during World War II.
He helped encode the original government documents,"
she told him, knowing he'd be impressed by the stately
man she'd discovered.

"How'd you find him?" Mulder asked her.

"Through a woman in Washington. But he claims he knew
you were coming," she smiled again.

"Last week we had an omen," Albert said, just before he
left their room.  He had been watching their
interchange since Mulder had awoke and quickly realized
that there was more between them than just a pursuit of
the meaning of some long hidden files.  He figured they
needed to be alone.

"Most of these files are written in jargon but
apparently there was an international conspiracy of
silence dating back to the 1940's. Albert says that
evidence of these secrets is buried on a Navajo
reservation not far from here.  He says that he'll take
you as soon as you are able."

Mulder handed her his glass of water, figuring he
needed to try to get up, realizing he really needed to
pee.  She watched him closely, looking for any sign
that he wasn't strong enough to sit up.

Mulder righted himself, sitting on the edge of the bed
in front of her.  "What about you?"

"I'm afraid you're on your own with this," she began,
barely able to look at him, worrying that he'd be angry
at her for putting herself at such risk.  "I didn't
show up for a meeting with Skinner the day before
yesterday and I don't know what the repercussions will
be."

Mulder thought to himself in that instant how he could
have been so lucky to have found a person as loving and
intelligent and as steadfast as Scully.  "You've taken
a big risk."

Scully's eyes met his and their silent communication
was clear to both of them.  "I was certain they would
have killed you, Mulder," she told him tenderly. Mulder
took hold of her hands, giving them a loving squeeze
before he stood, his bladder reminding him again that
he needed to empty it.

But just before he got to the bathroom, he turned back
to her.  "Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me."
She could see that he was struggling to keep his
emotions in check.

"There's something else," Scully started, standing to
be at his eye level, taking a deep breath before
continuing.  "My name is in those files. It appears in
the latest entries with Duane Barry's."

Mulder's heart sank, fearing just what that could mean,
seeing by her expression that she feared it, too.  "In
what context?"

"It's not clear, but it has something to do with a
test. I want you to find out Mulder," she said, her
words breaking his heart. "I need you to."

Mulder simply nodded and headed for the bathroom,
softly closing the door behind him.  When he came back
out, Scully was sitting at the small desk by the
window, trying to translate some of the documents,
working with the decoding keys Albert had written down
for her.

"What're you doing?" Mulder asked, walking up behind
her, squeezing her shoulders, feeling how tight her
muscles were.

"Nothing that can't be done later," she smiled up at
him.  "You need to eat something, if you feel like it."

"Yeah, I am kinda hungry," he laughed.  "When's the
last time I had any thing to eat?"

"Ummm, I'd say about three days ago.  You've had some
liquids, but nothing substantial to eat," she told him,
going to the small cooler she'd picked up along their
way across country.  "Let's see..." she rummaged around
in the small plastic container, "We have some yogurt, a
dried out ham and cheese on white bread, an apple, an
orange and what's left of some cottage cheese.  That's
what you get when you do your shopping at an all night
convenience store."

"Seems like I remember some orange juice," he said, her
head jerking to look at him.  "Or maybe it was just an
empty jug."

"Oh, god.  You remember that?" she asked, seeing that
he was grinning at her, teasing her.

"I hope your juice bottle isn't in that cooler."

"You shit," she said, giving his bare stomach a teasing
smack.

"All I know is I owe you everything, Scully.  And I'm
saying that to someone who shot me two days ago," he
said, taking her in his embrace with his right arm, his
left one not working all that well.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his
chest before laying her cheek against him.  "I'm so
sorry, Mulder.  I didn't know what else to do."

"Hey, you did the right thing.  I just congratulate you
on having the balls to do it," he chuckled, Scully not
finding his joke all that funny.

"Well, I don't think I've ever been so, so panicked in
all my life.  You hadn't been yourself for days, and
when I discovered that someone was spiking your
water...  Well, I was so afraid you'd shoot Krycek and
seal your own coffin instead."

"Well, thank you..." he said softly, kissing the top of
her head.

"Come on," she said, pulling a soft blue shirt out of a
Wal-Mart bag she retrieved from the closet. "It ain't
Saks, but...  There's a diner near the office."

After their late lunch/early dinner, they returned to
their room, Mulder wanting to go find Albert Hosteen.
But she had talked him out of it; actually, she had
given him no choice, pointing out that he still had
significant amounts of Demerol in his system.  She
wouldn't have trusted him under normal circumstances
since heaven knew he'd taken off from her many times
before.  But she was sharing a room with him this time
and she had laid down the law, Mulder calling it a
threat.

They had worked on deciphering some of the Defense
Department text until Scully felt she couldn't look at
it anymore.  Mulder had taken a short nap, Scully
laying down beside him as a way to coax him into it,
but not able to do much more herself than doze.
"You're awake," she said, feeling his eyes on her.
"Yeah.  I've been laying here listening to your snore."

"I do not snore."



"I hate to tell you this, Scully, but all those other
men you've been sleeping with aren't being honest with
you," he deadpanned.


"Damn them," she deadpanned back.  "Really, tell me
what you were thinking about."


"I was just thinking about your, our therapy session.
We haven't worked on any of the things Karen asked us
to do," he told her, his hand absently stroking her
shoulder.


"I'm sure she probably already assumed that since we
didn't show up for our next session.  And that's what
you've been thinking about?" she asked incredulously.


"If we get this mess cleaned up..."


"When."


"WHEN we get this mess cleaned up, we're going to
follow through, Scully," he said, giving her forehead a
small kiss.  "You need to do that for yourself."

"I'm not arguing.  I agree.  But there are priorities,
Mulder.  And as long as I'm sleeping beside you, I seem
to be fairly exempt from the flashbacks," she smiled to
him, leaning up on her elbow to give his lips a kiss.

Mulder responded quickly, his good hand slipping into
her hair to press her lips closer to his, his tongue
slipping into her mouth.  She cupped his cheek with one
hand, her other absently smoothing over his abdomen.
"Mmmmmm, I think we need to stop," Scully said, finally
separating her lips from his.

"Why?" Mulder asked, pulling her to him for another
kiss, feeling his body responding to the arousal.

"We can't finish this," she said against his lips, not
actually wanting to stop.

"Sure we can," his hand moving down her back to her
rear, his fingers massaging as he continued to kiss
her.

"Mmmmm," she murmured as they continued to kiss, her
bottom always an erogenous area for her.  "I don't
think so."

"Help me undress and I'll prove it to you," he told
her, moving away to stand from the bed.  She could see
the bulge in his jeans and was relieved to see that the
medication wasn't influencing that bodily function.

He began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, but she
stopped him.  "Let me do that..."

Scully slipped his shirt off, unbuttoning the fly of
his jeans. "Thank you for being here for me," he told
her sincerely, reaching to touch her face with his
palm.  "I love you, you know," he smiled, then leaned
in to kiss her, his arm going around her waist. The
kiss lingered for several long seconds until Scully
pulled away, pulling his jeans and boxers down below
his crotch, his erection springing free.

"Sit and I'll slide your jeans off," and he'd done what
she'd asked.  She had quickly removed her own clothes,
laying them flat over the back of a chair, knowing that
was all she had.  She crawled into bed beside him and
wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding further down
in the bed to lie flat next to him under the sheet.

"I love you..." he told her again.

"I love you," she said, kissing his face, down his
neck.  She sat up, her hand slowly pushing the sheet
down below his waist, his erection now exposed to her.

Where she sat next to him, he could see that her
nipples had stiffened in the cool air.  "You're so
beautiful, Scully," he said to her softly, pulling her
closer to him to take a firm nipple into his mouth, his
tongue licking around the areole.

"Oh, god," she sighed, the heavy feeling of arousal
immediately centering between her legs. Mulder moved
his mouth to her other breast, his hand covering the
breast he had just had in his mouth, his fingers
massaging slowly, firmly.  He kissed her again, pulling
her into an embrace and then maneuvered her on top of
his body as they continued to kiss.

Scully wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts
pressed into the right side of his chest, trying not to
disturb his injury or the bandage.  They kissed and
kissed and kissed, Mulder's hand moving and caressing
and squeezing everywhere it could reach, her body
lithely moving her skin against his.  Scully stopped
kissing and took Mulder's face in her hands to look at
him.  "You sure this is okay?" she asked softly.

"Better than okay," he responded, his thumb stroking
her cheek.

Scully moved to take his nipple in her mouth, kissing
down his chest to his stomach.  "You want me?" she
smiled, her hand moving down his abdomen to between his
legs, feeling how hard he was in response to her.

"Mmmmm, yeah, I do," he said, his hand softly stroking
her hair.  She moved back up to kiss him again, his
hand sliding down to grasp her bottom.  She shuddered,
feeling her center lubricating, the gooseflesh making
its way over her entire body.  "What is it about your
butt, Scully?  All I have to do is touch you there and
you're off and running..." he teased, sliding his hand
further to find her core with a finger.  "God, you are
so wet."

"I want you, too," she smiled to him before closing her
eyes to kiss him, a long lingering kiss that felt so
good.  "I love kissing you," she whispered to him as
her lips crossed his cheek, finding their way to his
neck.  Her body moved languidly against him, feeling
his rigid growth against her mound, the hair of his
chest teasing her breasts.  Her low moans and sighs as
she continued to kiss him, her tongue caressing his,
made his breathing more labored than if he'd run a
mile.

Mulder's hand stroked her body everywhere he could
reach, his words slurred with arousal.  "If you were
any more sexy, Scully, I think I'd explode..." he told
her.

"Not yet," she murmured, her ability to speak at the
moment no better than his.  Her fingers wove through
his hair as they kissed, their tongues playing their
own kind of game.  Her hands moved from his hair to his
neck as she slid down slightly, again taking a nipple
in her mouth to tongue, to suck.  "Just lay back," she
whispered.  She kissed his mouth again, her lips
caressing his, then licking and sucking his lips,
kissing and kissing before nuzzling his neck.  She
moved further down, her kiss to his stomach and the
glide of her breast against his genitals as she moved
further down almost more than he could take.

"God, Scully..." he groaned, his voice barely more than
a breath.  She took his shaft in her hand, her fingers
massaging him, her palm closing over the head each time
she stroked him.  Mulder felt her slight shudder, still
in disbelief that she always was, at least, as turned
on by what she was doing to him as he was by what she
was doing to him.  She took him in her mouth, her
fingers moving to his sac, massaging him as she moved
her lips up and down on him, her tongue lapping against
him as she sucked.  "Scully, ssstop," Mulder hissed
when her teeth scraped against his glans.
"Jessssussss..."

Mulder reached for her, her mouth leaving him with a
soft pop.  She moved up over him, intending to be on
top, just wanting him to let her make love to him.
"I'll love you forever..." she said, moving to kiss him
softly. She moved on top of him, kissing him soundly,
their tongues vying for control.  He wrapped his arm
around her, rubbing her back down to her thighs.  She
spread her legs, moving her knees to the bed, lifting
herself over him as he held his penis for her.  She
centered herself and then slid down on him, both of
them sighing at the sensation.  She didn't move for a
few seconds, just savoring the feeling of him buried in
her.

Mulder held on to her waist with his one usable hand as
she sat up fully, feeling his length push against her
cervix. "God, you feel so good," she moaned as she
began undulating against him.  She placed her hand on
his stomach, holding onto his sides as she began moving
up and down on him.

"Jesus, Scully..." Mulder sighed, his head tilting back
onto the pillow, his eyes clamping shut. "Uhhhhh, just
like that..."

She smiled, watching him, feeling her arousal soar
seeing his reactions to her movements, her loving of
him.  She bent forward a bit, moving her hands to the
mattress, causing her clitoris to rub against his pubic
hair. She pushed harder, feeling the eminent release of
her orgasm spiral within her abdomen.  She moved her
hips side to side a couple of times and that was all it
took, her hips jerking, her thighs trying to squeeze
together against his.  She held her breath while her
muscles clamped him, the tissues of her fleshy folds
throbbing against him.

"Ohhhhhh, god..." she finally breathed, her body
melting to lay over him as she could while she came
down, the hair on his chest against her breasts giving
her entire body goose bumps.  She began to start
pumping against him again, rising and falling on him as
he lay beneath her.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned and she could tell he was close.
She kept moving, easily watching the beautiful
expressions on his face in the light of the late
afternoon sun.  "Yessssss..." he said as he let loose,
trying to thrust up into her, but each movement of his
hips resonated through his muscles up to his shoulder.
He tried to stop and let her continue to do all the
work, but his body wouldn't exactly mind.  Despite his
pain, his release felt wonderful.  "Scully..." he
sighed when she'd moved off of him, his penis slipping
out of her.

She snuggled into his side, giving his flesh a soft
kiss, before sitting up enough to reach the sheet and
spread, covering both of them as she lay back down.
"You okay?" she asked softly, his breath still ragged.

"I'm good," he sighed, suddenly just very tired.  "I
just need to sleep."  He heard her chuckle next to his
skin.  "What?"

"I wore you out," she teased.

"Don't be so proud of yourself," he smiled back to her.

"I'm not.  You're wounded."
                                                   "Oh,
so that's why you shot me.  It was foreplay," he
countered, Scully's quick laughter filling the room,
the sound almost foreign to them.  They hadn't had a
lot to laugh about lately.


NAVAJO NATION
NATIONAL RESERVATION
The next day
Mulder and Scully had napped for an hour or so, taking
their time to get dressed and going back to the diner
for a late dinner, such as it was.  Scully had cleaned
his wound and changed the dressing, his shoulder clean
and healing well.  But he was having some aching, so
she gave him a Tylenol with Codeine, knowing he would
sleep well, but not be so totally knocked out as he had
been with the Demerol.

The next morning, she tried to tell him he needed to
take another day before heading out to see what Albert
had to show him, but Mulder insisted he was fine and
well enough to go to see the older man.

"You said you knew I was coming," Mulder said, driving
Albert to his house.

"In the desert, things find a way to survive. Secrets
are like this too," Albert told him, Mulder listening
intently. "They push their way up through the sands of
deception so that men can know them. Here, this is my
house," Albert pointed out and Mulder pulled up in
front.

"But why me?"

Albert turned to him, "You are prepared to accept the
truth, aren't you?  To sacrifice yourself to it?"

"I don't understand."

"There was a tribe of Indians who lived here more than
600 years ago. Their name was Anasazi.  It means
ancient aliens," Albert began.  "No evidence of their
fate exists. Historians say they disappeared without a
trace. They say that because they will not sacrifice
themselves to the truth."

"And what is the truth?" Mulder asked him, feeling as
if Mr. Hosteen actually may have the answer.

"Nothing disappears without a trace."

"You think they were abducted?"

"By visitors who come here still."  Albert saw his
grandson, Eric, come out of the house and got out of
the car to meet him, Mulder following, still thinking
about what the man had just told him.  His arm was
hurting, but he wanted to see what they had to show
him.

"What's buried out there?"

"Lies. You will see for yourself," Albert told him, his
grandson starting his motorcycle, Mulder finally
getting on the back, holding on with his good hand.
The teenager drove him out into a large quarry, the red
New Mexican rock a beautiful backdrop.

Finally, Eric stopped the motorcycle, pointing to a
place beyond them.  "It's through these rocks."  They
walked a little bit further before Eric pointed to
something white at the bottom of a ledge.  "It's down
there."

Mulder climbed down the rocks, surprised to hear his
cell phone ring.

"Mulder."

It was the smoking man.  "You're a hard man to reach."

"Not hard enough apparently," Mulder recognizing the
man's voice.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the Betty Ford Center, where are you?" Mulder
replied sarcastically.

"I need to talk to you Mr. Mulder, in person. There are
things to explain."

"I'll save the government the plane fare, I just need
to know which government that is," Mulder snarled at
him.

"Your father may have told you things Mr. Mulder. I
should warn you against taking those things at face
value," the smoking man told him, trying to sound calm
and concerned.

"Yeah, which things are those?" Mulder asked, not
believing a word the man was saying.

"He was never an opponent of the project. In fact he
authorized it.  That's what he couldn't live with."

"No, he couldn't live with it because you had him
killed," Mulder replied angrily.

"We weren't involved in that," the man lied.

"Now listen to me you black lunged son of a bitch, I'm
gonna expose you and your project.  Your time is over!"

"Expose anything and you only expose your father..."

Mulder hung up, tiring of the man's bullshit, angry
that he couldn't get his hands on the man he knew was
involved in his father's death.

Cancerman climbed out of his car, taking a last puff of
his cigarette, a Black Opps military guy approaching
him.  "Sir, we got a co-ordinate on 'F'.  We're ready
to go," he told him, the sound of a helicopter making
it difficult to hear. The man had used the cell phone
signal to locate Mulder.

"Let's go," the smoking man instructed and he belted
himself in the copter as it took off.

Mulder followed Eric down to whatever it was that
seemed to be buried beneath the rocks, wondering just
what the hell it could be.  He noticed something that
seemed to have some printing on it and swept the dirt
away to get a better look.  It was a plaque of some
kind that read, 'Sierra Pacific Railroad, RTC-567-480'.

"Over here," Eric called to him, finding something that
appeared to be a hatch.

"This is a boxcar."

"Refrigeration car," Eric said, clearing the dirt from
around the hatch, both of them working to open it.
They got the door open and Mulder crawled down inside.

Scully had stayed back at the motel to continue working
on figuring out the documents from the stolen tape,
hoping she'd hear from Mulder soon, hoping that he was
alright.  She almost startled when her cell phone rang.

"Scully."

"Yeah, it's me," he said from down inside the boxcar.

"Where are you?" she asked, wondering if he was still
with Albert or on his way back to the motel.

"Nowhere I ever expected," he said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, beginning to
suspicion that he was somewhere she wished he wasn't.

"I'm in a boxcar buried inside a quarry. There are
bodies everywhere."

"Bodies?" her voice faltering with emotion, knowing
that Mulder had discovered something that was way
beyond what she wanted to have to deal with.

"Stacked floor to ceiling."

"What happened to them?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly, still not quite
believing what he had discovered.

Scully picked up a piece of paper she had been working
on, suddenly putting things together.  "Mulder, in
these files I found references to experiments that were
conducted here in the US by Axis Power scientists who
were given amnesty after the war."

"What kind of experiments?" he asked almost
tentatively.

"Some kind of tests, on humans. But they're referred to
as merchandise."

"But these aren't human, Scully. From the look of it
I'd say they were alien."

"Are you sure?" she asked, thinking that after what she
had read in the files, he made need to alter his
perception of what it was he'd actually found.

"I'm pretty damn sure," he said slowly, but then looked
closer at the arm of one of the beings, "Wait a sec...
This one... has a smallpox vaccination scar," he told
her and she could hear the realization, and fear, in
his voice.

"Mulder..."

"Oh my God, Scully, what have they done?" he said, his
phone signal snapping off as Eric closed the door, the
boy detecting an approaching helicopter.

Eric had no choice but just to stand there, the
helicopter landing and the smoking man approaching him.
"What's your name boy?" he asked him as the Black Opps
men searched the train car.  Eric wouldn't answer.

"He's not here," one of the men told him.

Back at the motel, Scully was frantic, grabbing her bag
and practically running to the motel office to arrange
for a rental car.  She had to find out where Mulder had
gone.  She knew in her soul, he was in trouble... and
lots of it.

"Where's Mulder?" Cancerman asked Eric angrily, but he
still refused to answer.  "He's here," he demanded,
angry with Eric for not talking.

"No sir," the soldier reported.  "If he was, he's
vanished without a trace."

"Nothing vanishes without a trace.  Burn it!" he
yelled, grabbing Eric and pulling him into the copter.
One of the men threw an incendiary device into the
boxcar and it exploded.  As the smoking man left in the
helicopter, he watched as flames flew out the open
hatch...

TO BE CONTINUED...In 'As It Might Have Been, Season 3'

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