by Pam Gamble
eksphyl@yahoo.com
 

SUMMARY:Mulder and Scully are assigned to a kidnapping case.
TIME FRAME:End of the 5th season
ARCHIVE:Fine, just let me know.
CATEGORY: MSR, XA
DISCLAIMER:Not mine, never were.

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"For our work to be conclusive, we must proceed according to
schedule." The voice emanated from the dark corners of the smoky room.

One man stared out the window, his back to the others. "It's too
early," he intoned.

"No," said another voice. "We must move now. The timing is crucial."

"Very well," said the man, pivoting, stubbing out his cigarette. "Take
her."
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Hoover Building
8:47 a.m.

"Hello, stranger. Long time no see," Scully smiled as she quietly shut
the office door.

Mulder glanced up from the file he'd been reading. "Two hours and
twenty-one minutes," he stated, his eyes glinting happily from behind
his reading glasses.

Scully sat down across the desk from him, leaning back to rest her
arms in her lap. "New case?"

He nodded. "It was on my desk when I came in. Missing Persons is
officially assigned to this, I don't know why we..."

"Missing Persons?" She reached for the manila folder and flipped it
open. Mulder stood and shrugged his coat on over his shoulders.
"7-year-old girl taken from her home in Cumberland, Maryland."

He stood before her, running a finger over the crinkle in her
forehead, silently asking her what was wrong.

Scully tilted her face up to his. "Why us?" He reached for her hand
and she followed his up, standing at his side. "Let's find out."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mulder's arm snaked across the armrest to grasp Scully's hand. It may
not have been very professional, but these days they took what they
could get.

He squeezed her hand, tacitly asking again what was bothering her
about this case already. She'd been fine the night before. A tiny
smile crept across his face as he remembered just *how*
fine.<Focus,Mulder>

Scully sighed, gently rubbing her fingers along the inside of his
palm. Her other hand fingered the tab on the folder. The little girl's
class picture slid out, and Scully traced the proud smile, the
beautiful green eyes. She slid it back inside, smoothing her thumb
over Mulder's handwritten label. "Harrison, Lauren J," she said aloud,
and shrugged. She tightened her hand around his, reassurring him.
Momentarily pacified, he concentrated on the road before him.

The truth was that she did have a sense of foreboding about this case.
She stared out the window at the bare trees and dormant fields that
dominated the landscape here, outside the reach of suburban sprawl.
She suppressed a shiver, and closed her eyes, trying to imagine what
it must be like to lose a child. Of course, she knew. But she had only
known Emily for a few days. She knew the connection and the pain and
the grief she'd felt at her death was nothing compared to what Amanda
Harrison was suffering. All the memories, the loss of a small hand in
yours, the empty bedroom...

Emotion flowed over Scully, catching her off guard. She'd never had
the chance to know her own child. To buy her clothes or find out what
foods she hated, to brush her hair. That opportunity had been taken
from her, just as Emily had been. And she vowed to do everything in
her power to see that this woman didn't go through any more pain.

"A child needs her mother," Scully said quietly, unable to stop a tear
from running down her cheek. She wiped it away before turning to look
at Mulder, who pretended not to notice.

He nodded. He didn't have to ask if she was thinking about Emily. He'd
been reluctant to even take this case. But since they'd never been
officially assigned, he couldn't exactly turn it down.

Mulder couldn't begin to imagine the feelings she associated with that
little girl. But he had seen Emily, and he had loved her, too. Because
she was a part of Scully. And he'd fought for her, even if in the end
it wasn't enough...

"We did everything we could," he said aloud, surprising even himself.

Scully nodded.

"Are you going to be okay with this? I can do it alone..."

She shook her head. "No, Mulder." She cleared her throat. "I'm
fine."She pulled his hand to her mouth and rested her lips on the back
of his hand. "But thank you for asking."

She let their hands fall to the seat again, twining her fingers with
his. Silently, Mulder celebrated having done something right.

As they neared the house, Scully transformed herself into professional
mode. Pushing aside all emotion, she ran down the facts one more time
for the both of them.

"Lauren Harrison, age 7. Last seen Sunday afternoon on the sidewalk in
front of her parents home wearing a blue corduroy jumper and white
turtleneck, white tennis shoes. Height 31 inches, weight 42 pounds,
brown hair, green eyes. No suspicious activity reported in the
neighborhood recently."

Mulder nodded, turning onto Blair Street. Several police cars and two
unmarked cars already filled the driveway. A TV newscrew sat at the
curb, engrossed in a game of poker. Their heads swung around in unison
as the sedan doors slammed shut, then turned back to their game. "We
must not look newsworthy," Mulder rumbled into Scully's ear.

Nosy neighbors appeared occasionally at the windows of the small, neat
homes up and down the quiet street.

Mulder rang the bell, and they flashed their badges at the distraught
man who answered the door.

"I'm Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully. We're with the FBI. Could we
come in?"

The man nodded as he opened the door. "I thought you guys were already
here. Did you find her?"

Scully cringed at the desperate edge of hope in his voice.

"No, sir, I'm sorry. You're Mr. Harrison?"

The man nodded, struggling to hold onto his composure. "David Harrison."

Scully shook his hand. "I know this is hard for you." She looked
around to see Mulder conferring with the two Bureau agents already
present. "I promise you we're doing everything we can to find Lauren."

Voices rose from the dining room table, which had been set up as a
temporary command post. She didn't even have to turn around to know it
was Mulder arguing over who had jurisdiction. Officially, they didn't
have a leg to stand on--this wasn't an X-File--but she knew he could
talk a good game. She looked up at Mr. Harrison.

"Were you home when Lauren disappeared?" He shook his head. "No, I was
at my son's ballgame. My wife was here, but the police have already
talked to her. She didn't see anything."

"Would it be alright if I spoke with her?" Scully thought one of them
should be doing something productive, since Mulder was still involved
in a pissing contest with the agents from Missing Persons.

"I guess it's okay for a few minutes. She's refused tranquilizers from
our doctor, but they told us if she gets hysterical again we should
sedate her." He led Scully down the hallway and into the kitchen. The
woman's back was to the door, and she didn't turn, even at her
husband's voice. Scully could sense her hopelessness before a word was
spoken.

"Amanda, honey? This lady is from the FBI. She wants to help us, can
you talk to her for a few minutes?"

Long brown curls danced up and down on her shoulders as she nodded.

Scully circled the table to face Amanda Harrison. She looked as though
she would shatter with a touch. Her eyes, infinitely sad, were red and
swollen. She looked straight through Scully, her hands clenched around
a white ceramic coffee mug.

Scully felt an odd twinge of recognition, as though she'd seen this
woman before, but rationalized that Amanda resembled the photograph of
her daughter.

Scully took the chair across from her, facing the door. She sat down
softly, afraid to cause yet another ripple in the atmosphere
surrounding this fragile woman.

"Mrs. Harrison, my name is Dana Scully. I'd like to help you find your
daughter. Can you tell me what happened?"

The woman looked up as though waking from a dream. "She's gone.
Someone took her away."

Scully's heart twisted. There was nothing worse than seeing a strong
person rendered powerless. "And we're going to find her," she placed a
hand on Amanda's arm.

Tears began to fall, following a well-worn path, as she spoke in a
trembling voice. "She wanted to walk to her friend's house, they're
just 3 houses down. She wanted to be grown-up, and go by herself, so I
said it was okay," she sniffed. I watched until she was at the
sidewalk, and waved to her. Then I came back inside to make lunch."
She hiccupped, her breath coming now in short gulps. "And the
neighbors called half-an-hour later to ask where she was, and I didn't
know...I didn't know." Amanda lay her head down on the table. "I want
my baby back," she begged in a muffled sob.

Scully tightened her grip on the woman's arm as the kitchen door
opened. Once again, Amanda didn't even turn to see who it was. Mulder
silently asked for Scully's permission, then walked around the table
to stand beside her. Scully gently squeezed her arm, and Amanda raised
her head.

"Mrs. Harrison, this is my partner..."

The look on the woman's face stopped Scully cold. Her eyes had widened
in what seemed to be...fear? She began to shake again. "What are you
doing here?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

Scully looked up at the mask of hurt and confusion that had settled on
her partner's face. His mouth fell open as words forced their way out.
"I, I didn't know...I didn't know it was you..."

"Fox, I told you I needed time. Please, don't do this to me now."
Amanda stood and ran out of the room, her sobs trailing after her.

Scully shot Mulder a questioning look, but he stood motionless in the
center of the room. <Fox. How many old girlfriends don't I know about?>

Mr. Harrison entered the door his wife had just passed through. He
quickly descended on Scully. "What did you say to her?"

Scully looked to Mulder for support, but he seemed frozen. "I'm sorry,
we didn't mean to cause your family any more trouble. We'll be going."
She propelled Mulder by the arm, and he managed to make it out the
door on auto-pilot.

She waited until they were at their car, before turning to him. "What
the hell was that all about?" she snapped.

Her partner was gasping for air, staring back at the house in
wide-eyed disbelief. "I didn't, didn't know," he stammered.Finally, he
blinked hard, focused on Scully.

She was waiting impatiently, cocking an eyebrow.

"Scully," he told her with a look of infinite sadness, a look she
recognized the instant before he said the words.

"That's my sister."
 

~~~
 
 

Accountability

Chapter 2
The grey Taurus flew down suburban streets, past a thousand identical
houses, each flanked by a standard issue green minivan. Scully thought
they must be traveling in circles, except that the cutesy street names
kept changing, and she could actually feel them getting farther away
from that house.

After about five miles, she pulled over into a quiet church parking
lot, abandoned on a late Friday afternoon. People needed time to
commit the transgressions they would ask forgiveness for once the
weekend was over.

She really just wanted to get him home, but first she had to know how
he was dealing with all of this.

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, or maybe on his
reflection within it. Her own eyes fell closed as she pictured the
woman she'd spoken with. She still couldn't force her mind around the
concept of that woman being Samantha. The Holy Grail. The truth of all
truths. Drinking coffee in her kitchen. Crying over her daughter.

Mulder's neice, she realized. Mulder had a family, one he didn't even
know. A family that had been simultaneously given and taken away. Her
heart ached for him, knowing how long he'd lived with that very
possibility.

Her sympathy for Amanda--Samantha--abated somewhat in the face of her
resentment, on Mulder's behalf, of being shut out of her life.

Slowly, carefully, Scully touched his hand, ice cold fingers
instinctively clenching her own.

"Mulder, you're in shock. It's an understandable.." Bright, unfocused
eyes turned to meet hers. He shook his head, mimicking his own
movements outside the house. "I didn't know," he insisted.

She nodded, raising her voice to be heard over the thousand voice
Vienna Boys' Choir of Guilt that resounded in his head. Everything is
Mulder's fault, alleluia.

"I know you didn't,Mulder."  She reached to feel his forehead,
brushing the hair away. "I need to get you home. Just hang on for me,
okay?"

Scully made record time flying through the nauseatingly pleasant
housing developments, circled the Beltway and joined the stream of
cars crossing the Key Bridge. The sedan climbed the hills behind M
Street, shuddering to a relieved halt in front of her building.

A frigid wind whipped her hair as she stood on the sidewalk, waiting
for her partner to get out of the car. He stumbled past her through
the front door and into her apartment, disappearing wordlessly into
the bedroom.

When you first fall in love with someone, the hardest thing you must
come to realize is that you can never be everything, fill every need,
for another human being. That no matter how much of a soul you share,
there are some corners in which there is only room for one. As much as
it hurt her to watch him retreating, she knew he was at the very
threshhold of his pain right now.

She had once accidentally put her hand on dry ice. It seemed to burn
her at the slightest touch, until her brain had time to register it as
cold.

Her first instinct was to go to him, but she was wiser now than she
had been in the past. He needed her so badly, and her first attempt at
comfort would warm him momentarily, but then it would damage his raw,
exposed emotions. Then he would push her away, unwilling to expose her
to the full array of his sorrow.

Wiser now, she would wait.

After almost an hour, she heard a tiny noise from the bedroom. She
moved to stand in the doorway, shrugging off the coat she had never
thought to remove.

He lay across the bed, his back to her. A low moan reached her ears,
drawing her to him as surely as if he'd called her name.

Pulling the comforter over him, she folded her legs and settled
herself on the bed behind him. Without looking up at her, he shifted
his body so that his head was in her lap, and she felt the tears
riding waves of shivers as they left his body.

Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, drawing the thick strands
away from his face. She leaned down to kiss the paths her fingers had
traced.

His hand came up to rest on her knee, gently circling her kneecap.

She looked down at him, at Mulder: Version 2.0, to which she owned the
exclusive rights. No one else would ever be allowed to see him like
this. She felt alternately blessed and cursed by that distinction.

As his soundless tears were seeping through her pantyhose, she made a
mental note to find out first thing in the morning who was responsible
for assigning them to this case.

It was obviously someone who'd wanted to hurt him, make him bleed to
death and kick the body. Looking down at his beautiful crumpled form
in her lap, she vowed that, before this was over, whoever they were,
they would pay.

Accountability
Chapter 3

3:37 am

Scully knew her Mulder-gauge was reading empty the second before she
woke up. Startled, she rose and pushed the comforter off her
still-dressed body.

No particular sound was coming from the living room,or maybe she could
hear his breathing. Maybe it was just a sense of his presence. But he
was there.

Silhouetted in the moonlight, he stood, clad only in striped boxers,
staring into the night.

She crossed the room to stand behind him, noticing the tension in his
shoulders and feeling it in the air around him. She reached her hands
up and over, and down his folded arms, as though she could purify his
skin with her touch, drawing away the sadness like moisture. Watch it
evaporate into thin air.

If only it were that easy.

Her hands found each other and connected, linking around his waist.
Her lips placed gentle kisses on his back. She felt his large hands
come to cover hers.

Leaning her face against him, she could track the shiver that traveled
along his spine.

"You're cold. Come to bed."

The muscles beneath her cheek quaked slightly as he shook his head.
"I'm not cold." He ran his fingers over hers as if each one were a
note, and he was playing a song he knew by heart.

"I just love you so much, sometimes it surprises me," he whispered.

She smiled, squeezing more tightly around his bare waist. Their
feelings for each other were rarely a topic for discussion. Much like
everything else they'd done together, words seemed painfully
inadequate. Even his moving in was a simple matter of her making extra
room in the closet and bureau. Watching her that morning, he'd left,
returning with his clothes and fishtank, and it was done. Looks and
gestures had served as their romantic currency, and they were both the
richer for it.

Still, it was nice to hear.

He turned in her arms, scooping her into him, surrounding her with the
only security she knew.

One deep breath, then she pulled away, pulling his hands with hers
towards the bedroom. "Come back to bed."  He nodded, and lay down,
watching her undress and pull on a baby-blue t-shirt. She joined him,
turning on her side as he pulled her back against his hard stomach.
She felt his grip tighten around her, and she placed her smaller hands
atop his, drifting to sleep with the staccato sounds of his heartbeat
dictating her own.

~~~
 
 

Chapter 4

7:01 am

Since Mulder had lived and breathed while invading her personal space,
it had come as no surprise that he slept there as well. Rare was the
morning that she awoke alone on her own pillow, instead finding his
face only inches from hers. While it had scared the hell out of her
the first time, she'd grown to savor it.

She could feel deep, even breaths warming the back of her neck, and
decided to stay where she was, not risk waking him. She couldn't bring
herself to steal his temporary serenity, and hoped his mind would
allow him the same reprieve, not torture him with unanswerable
questions.

Mentally, she composed a to-do list for the day. 1. Track down the
source of that case folder. It didn't jump on Mulder's desk by itself.
2. Talk to the agents officially assigned and try to weasel
information from them; she was pretty sure Mr. Harrison would have
issued shoot-to-kill orders should they come back around the house. 3.
Restrain Mulder from looking for Lauren Harrison on his own. They had
absolutely no idea what they were dealing with yet. Maybe she could
lock him in a room and convince him to profile the kidnapper. 4....

"Are you awake?" The words rumbled into her ear, like the echo of an
avalanche.

"Mmm.."

"I hoped maybe it was all a nightmare." She turned to face him, his
haunted gaze pleading for a lie from eyes that had only ever told him
the truth. "But it's real, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"Scully, of all the ways I imagined finding her...I thought, if she
was dead, that would hurt the most." He closed his eyes. "Even with my
talent for self-inflicted torture, I never could've come up with this
one."

She reached up to touch his hair, and he turned his head into her palm
like a kitten. She indulged herself for a moment, then kissed him
softly, watching his eyes blink open.

"She just needs time, Mulder. You've always had the hope that she was
out there somewhere. She had that hope taken away from her. You can't
blame her for that."

He shook his head, morning stubble rubbing like sandpaper on cotton.
"I don't blame her. I blame him." She felt his body tense in a
familiar posture. "He took her away." One tear, defiant in its sudden
freedom, made its way down to stain her pillowcase. "He took you away
too." He ran his hands up her sides and through her hair. "It would
have killed me if you'd come back and not known me. Not wanted me.
Because I didn't look hard enough for you. Didn't try hard enough to
get you back."

She shook his shoulders gently, tilting his chin down so he was
looking her in the eyes. "Hey, I'm here. We're not talking about me,
Mulder. I came back, remember?"

Mulder smiled, warmth like a sunrise melting away his tears. He
reached for her, holding her securely to his chest. "Yeah, I know
which one you are Scully. You're my one in five billion."

She lay quietly, drinking in his strength, cautiously feeding it back
to him. They would need every bit the two of them had to get through
this together.

Ch. 5

10:27 am

"Sit."

Mulder suppressed the urge to bark.

He sat.

Skinned loomed over his desk, daring either of them to question being
called in on a Saturday morning.

"I'm going to assume you both know why you're here. Unfortunately, I
wasn't quite as enlightened as you seem to be at 9:00 this morning
when I got a call at my home."

Expecting a little squirming, Skinner was disappointed to note only
calm resgination in their postures.

"From the Director."

He waited a beat.

Nothing, save two pairs of raised eyebrows, more from curiosity than
any fear of reprimand.

"He ordered me to order *you* off the Harrison kidnapping case. Which
I would do, except that I never *assigned* you to the Harrison
kidnapping case."

Scully spoke. "Sir, if I may?"

"No, you may not." Skinner lowered his body and his voice
simultaneously. "I know that we have at times had a tenuous working
relationship, and I know that you have occasionally had reason to
question my integrity."

Scully flushed, and found she couldn't meet his gaze.

"However, when you are on official business, I expect to be informed
of your actions." He sat back in his chair, wondering what it would
take to intimidate these two. "You seem to have forgotten how this
chain-of-command concept works. Technically, I'm supposed to *dictate*
your actions."

Mulder looked over at his partner, a momentary glance all they needed
to concur that they'd both received the same message.

In some bizarre way, they'd hurt his feelings. Left him out of the loop.

Mulder barely nodded at Scully, and she leaned forward to speak.

Skinner found himself once again amazed at the nuanced conversations
they seemed to hold with their eyes.

"Sir, the truth is, before you called us in this morning we'd planned
on getting in touch with you."

Mulder interrupted. "We don't know where that folder came from. It was
on my desk yesterday morning."

Scully took over. "We assumed until now that it was an assignment from
you." She paused. "Well, actually, we realized yesterday afternoon
that it wasn't."

Mulder began to speak and Skinner felt like he was watching a slow
game of Pong. To keep from giving himself whiplash, he looked down at
the file on his desk.

"When you called us in, we further assumed that you didn't know how it
ended up in our office either."

Skinner turned the few pages that comprised the entire case. "Why
would someone want you two on this kidnapping? There don't seem to be
any unexplainable phenomena." He looked up at Mulder. "Did they want a
profile?"

Mulder shook his head. "No." His mouth went dry, useless. Scully
touched his arm, so quickly Skinner wondered if he really saw it.
Whatever she did, Mulder gratefully passed the baton to her.

"Sir, you know that while I was ill Agent Mulder made contact with a
woman who claimed to be Samantha."

Skinner nodded. It had been sort of a peace offering between the three
of them, after everything that had happened. They'd sat in her
hospital room and Mulder had told them both, knowing how crazy it
sounded, knowing it was probably the sanest thing any of them had to
hold on to at that moment. People were dying all around them, but
maybe, just maybe, he'd found his sister.

"You also know that she asked that Agent Mulder make no further effort
to contact her. We knew she lived somewhere in the area, and with our
resources we probably could have obtained her current identity and
whereabouts, but Agent Mulder chose to respect her wishes."

Skinner thought he might throttle her if she didn't get to the point.

"What does any of this have to do with...?" He lifted up the folder,
dropping it unceremoniously back onto his desk. The copy of the little
girl's picture came loose from the paperclip, and it surfed out over
the edge of the desk. Mulder dove to catch it, but instead of
returning it slid it into his jacket pocket.

"Sir, the little girl's mother, Amanda", Scully took a deep breath.

"What?" Skinner asked, exasperated.

"She's my... Samantha," Mulder said, without raising his head.

Skinner remained poker-faced, but this whole conversation had
exhausted him.

He looked to Agent Scully for confirmation, her weary glance telling
him it was as true as anything else they'd been told.

Skinner exhaled, mentally counting the years he had until blessed
retirement. Then he reminded himself of several occasions upon which,
if not for the two people before him, he wouldn't even have made it
this far.

His words crossed the desk, falling heavily before them.

"The Harrison family has requested you not work this case. The Bureau
has had enough public relations problems," he tapped his fingers
together, sighing. "Our public image is in the toilet. I can't...go
against their wishes. I'm sorry, but it's out of my hands."

Scully rose, and nodded. "Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

After a short pause, Mulder stood and parroted her words. "Thank you,
sir."

As they left the office, Skinner had to wonder if she could do that
while drinking a glass of water. It was the only thought all day that
had given him reason to smile.

~~~
 
 
 

Ch. 6
11:51 am

Scully sat at her desk, on hold for the third time that morning. She'd
been trying to contact the agents on the Harrison case, but they'd
been putting her off with vague answers and questionable leads.

After meeting with Skinner, she and Mulder had discussed how they
would proceed. Mulder agreed that they would keep their distance,
keeping tabs by phone. Mulder, meanwhile had locked himself in an
empty conference room to work on a profile, which was fine by her. She
would have never admitted it to him, but sometimes he really scared
her when he did those things.

It always seemed to be a quid pro quo. He could get into their minds,
but it also seemed to give them open access to his. It was at these
moments, when his entire being was focused on the intentions of evil,
that he'd had his greatest moments of weakness.
Roche.
Modell.
Barry.
Names that haunted her. Lived in his nightmares too, she knew.

The analytic part of her mind had once believed his obsession with
aliens to be some sort of stress reaction to working in the torture
chamber of the VCS. An enemy he didn't have to profile, couldn't begin
to explain.

Then she came to know his mind.

<Leprechauns> She smiled at the thought.

And finally, she came to know his heart.

Knew its infinite capacity for kindness, its every ridge and scar from
being broken time and again. Knew its desires, its steady
determination, and its groundshaking fears.

She was afraid, too. Afraid that he would go so deep into the abyss of
evil that he would be unable to pull himself out. That not only would
he not answer her, but he wouldn't even hear her calling his name.

Slamming the phone down, Scully grabbed her keys and started for the
door when the phone clanged to life.

She hesitated, then snatched up the receiver. "Scully."

There was a deep breath on the other end, then nothing.

"Hello?"

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes?" She strained to hear the woman's shaky voice, knowing who it
had to be.

"This is Amanda Harrison. I was, just, ummm..." Scully listened to her
quick, shallow breathing.

"I, just, umm, wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"You don't need to do that, Sa--Mrs. Harrison."

Another deep intake of breath. "I'd really like to talk to you, if
that's okay."

Scully felt a twinge of relief. "Of course, we'll be there in about.."

"No," she answered too quickly. "I...just you. Please?"

Scully hoped the receiver wouldn't pick up the sound of her heart
shattering. She nodded, then reminded herself the phone was not a
visual medium.

"Sure." She replaced the receiver, almost to the door before she
realized she hadn't left him a note.

Her hand hesitated over the Yellow Post-it before she decided he
couldn't divine the truth from her handwriting.

"Be back this afternoon.--Me"