By Avalon
avalon@fuse.net
 

Date: Sat, 09 Sep 2000
RATING:   R for sex
SPOILERS:   "Paper Hearts", some mention of "Wetwired,"
  "Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose," "Fire,"
  and the Movie; big time spoilers for "Requiem"
CATEGORY: XMSRA
DISCLAIMER:  These wonderful characters certainly do not
  belong to me and are the property of Chris
  Carter and 1013.  No infringement is intended
  (and intent is everything, you know.)
FEEDBACK: Would love to hear it, especially since this
  is my first (look, a fanfic virgin!)
ARCHIVES: If you want it, be my guest, but please let
  me know so I can visit!
SUMMARY: With the help of a childhood friend of Mulder's
  who claims to be psychic, Scully tries to find
  her missing partner using an unorthodox investi-
  gative techinique: her dreams.
AUTHOR'S
NOTES:  See at the end, please.

*   *   *

In Dreams

Hush now, don't you cry
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye
You're lying safe in bed
It was all a bad dream
Spinning in your head
Your mind tricked you to feel the pain
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life
So here it is, another chance
Wide awake you face the day
Your dream is over-or has it just begun?
 

--Silent Lucidity, Queensryche
 
 

She awoke with a start, bathed in her own sweat, the pink
satin of her nightshirt clinging to her pale skin.  Her
neatly cut red hair stuck to her face in patches, and she
brushed it back angrily, silently willing the tears that had
sprung into her eyes to stop.  She'd been crying every night
like this for the past six days, and it exhausted her,
gnawing at the clinical detachment she had displayed so well
for so long.  She didn't want to spend another night huddled
on her couch, afraid to go back to sleep, watching soundless
flickering images on the television set, sobbing
occasionally as the grief welled up inside her and spilled
out of her in waves.  But the dreams kept coming, and she
couldn't seem to stop them

She dreamt of Mulder.

In the beginning, she had dreamt of him as she remembered
him best, in the office with her, presenting another of his
infamous slide shows, or in the car, driving, with her in
the passenger seat.  In these dreams, he was always talking,
although she could never remember his words.  But the sound
of his voice soothed her, the rhythmic cadences and familiar
inflections pouring over her like gentle hands massaging her
fears, her frustrations, her guilt.  She could remember
smiling at him in these dreams, a sweet, intimate smile, as
he would glance over at her as she sat beside him in the car
or behind his desk.  And he would return the smile, his own
filling her with a liquid warmth that was satisfying and
undeniably safe.

In these new dreams, he wasn't talking.  And he wasn't
smiling.

Mulder was screaming.

She could never see him in these dreams.  She was enveloped
in a blinding white light, one so brilliant that it forced
her to shut her eyes to it.  But she could always hear him.
He didn't call her name, as he had often done when he was in
trouble in the field.  He didn't call anything that she
recognized at all.  He shrieked, as if the depths of himself
were being pulled out of him, as if his very soul were being
meticulously pried out of his body.  It was a scream of
anguish, of pain, and of fear.

In the dream, she would put out her hands in front of her,
groping madly through the blinding light, following the
scream.  But every time she thought she was nearing him, she
would bump into a wall.   She would spin, angry, trying to
move in a different direction, screaming his name back to
him, trying to soothe him, to let him know she was there.
But every time, her calls became more and more desperate,
until they turned into a panicked wail, and then she would
wake, in the state she was in now.

She kicked at the bedclothes and swung her feet over the
side, glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand.
3:15.  Just like every other night.  The nightmare always
woke her at the same time.  She couldn't reconcile that with
her logical mind, either, and she hated that she couldn't.

She sat on the bed like that, gripping the side of the
mattress, until her rapid breathing slowed and her heartbeat
softened in her chest.  'This has to stop,' she told herself
again, her rational mind reminding her that she needed her
rest, especially now.

But Dana Scully didn't know how to make it stop.  And that
scared her.  But what scared her even more was the
irrational thought that, somehow, if it did stop, what had
happened to Mulder to make it stop?
 

*     *     *

Veronica Chandler clipped the plastic "Visitor" tag to the
lapel of her jacket and tried to smile at the security
guard.  The smile was half-hearted at best; she was so damn
tired.  She knew the guard was watching her, taking in her
features in a professional, calculated way, a way familiar
to her in law enforcement personnel.  He was noting her
short, spiky blonde hair, her sharp nose and chin, her
steely gray eyes, and the circles under them that Veronica
had tried to conceal at the hotel sink this morning.  She
was only thirty-five years old, but she felt fifty today.
And she knew this trip, and this interview, wasn't going to
help her feel any better.

She took the clipboard that the guard offered her and
scribbled her name in the appropriate space.  The officer
took it back and, pen poised, asked, "And you're here to see
Agent Dana Scully, Miss Chandler?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice scratchy.  Too much screaming.
She needed a drink of water.

"Agent Scully's office is in the basement.  Take the second
set of elevators down to B level.  It's right as you come
out of the doors."  He scratched something onto the
clipboard and hung it next to the metal detector frame.

"Thank you," she heard herself say.  It was all so surreal.
She lifted her purse off the conveyor belt.  It was funny
how things happened.  She would have never expected to be in
the J. Edgar Hoover building, and yet, here she was.

Veronica turned and started down the hallway in the
direction of the elevators, the heels of her pumps making
faint snicking noises on the marble floor.  She had dressed
professionally, in what many executives would recognize as
the standard navy blue interview suit, knowing that she
needed to make a good impression on this agent.  Knowing
that a lot depended on what Special Agent Dana Scully
thought about Veronica Chandler, and whether she would trust
her.

Damn, this was going to be a hard sale.

Veronica paused next to the elevators and took a sip from
the drinking fountain, soothing her aching throat.  Spying a
padded bench a few paces away, she sat down, smoothing her
skirt at the knees.  She needed a minute to relax, to calm
her raw nerves, to breathe, and to focus.

She closed her eyes against the florescent lights and pulled
her attention inward.  The cacophony of sounds around her
dimmed to a soft hum in her ears as she concentrated,
slowing her breathing and consciously loosening the muscles
in her body.  She was good at this; she had been doing it
for years.  It only took her 30 seconds to relax enough that
she could focus.

Dana Scully, she said in her mind.

'Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully,' the voice in her mind
answered.  It was always a soft voice, a gentle one, like
crushed velvet beneath the tips of her fingers.  A warm and
loving voice.

For a moment the voice was silent, and Veronica saw instead
a picture forming in her mind.  An office, modern and
chromatic.  A woman sitting at a desk, files spread out
before her.  She was typing, her eyes behind silver wire-
frame glasses following the words on the screen.  She was a
pretty woman, with soft, full lips and angular cheekbones,
her face framed with stylish hair that seemed to glow in a
muted shade of red.  Veronica could see the nameplate on the
desk, and felt her physical body frown slightly.  The name
on the plate was not Agent Scully's; didn't she have her own
desk?

Veronica took a moment to survey the office, taking in the
unfamiliar sights.  Her inner eyes lingered on the poster
hanging behind the desk, and she felt herself smile.  That
certainly didn't belong to Agent Scully.

It belonged to Fox.

Veronica's inner gaze fell once again on the nameplate on
the desk.  Seeing his name there brought to her a rush of
familiar memories: the pounding Atlantic waves down the
street from her childhood home; catching fireflies as the
dusk crept along the horizon; her brother and another boy,
both tall and lanky and browned by the sun, playing one-on-
one basketball as she ate her dripping ice cream cone too
fast.  She felt the headache slam into her, momentarily
jarring her.  Was it memory, or was she just pushing herself
too hard?  She allowed the office scene to dissolve, but her
eyes remained closed.

The voice in her head spoke again, turning Veronica's focus
back to Agent Scully.  She listened intently as the words
tumbled into her mind, committing them to memory.

Medical doctor.  Quantico.  Georgetown.  Roman Catholic.
And then a string of names:  Melissa, Bill, Bill Jr.,
Maggie, Charles, Tara, Matthew, Emily.  The people in
Scully's life.  Veronica didn't bother to ask who they were;
if she needed to know, she would when the time came.

And there was something else.  Veronica strained her mind to
pick it up, like a child grasping for the last cookie in the
jar.  It was an energy, something around Agent Scully,
something colorful and vibrant and full of life, something
Veronica couldn't quite put her finger on yet---

Suddenly her body went rigid, and her eyes flew open as she
felt a fist tighten around her upper arm.  Her head tilted
back, and she was looking into the hawk-like eyes of a tall,
muscular man.  He was handsome despite being mostly bald,
his jaw set in a hard, angular line.  He was dressed in a
starched white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and
Veronica noticed the gun holstered at his left hip.

"Miss, are you all right?"  She realized that he must have
already asked her the question two or three times.  Veronica
suddenly understood that she was slipping forward off the
bench, and this man, this agent, had prevented her from
crumpling into a heap on the floor.

"Y-yes," she stammered, feeling extraordinarily stupid,
pushing her weight back onto the seat as he loosened his
grip.  He was looking at her, analyzing her, thinking hard.
She tried to smile, knowing it looked sheepish from the way
she felt.  "I must have fallen asleep."

The man released her arm completely and straightened up to
his full height.  The voice rocketed through her mind.

'Agent Scully's boss.'

"Can I get you some water?" he asked, and she could sense
the concern in his voice.  'He takes care of her too, now,'
the voice told her.

"No, I'm OK, really."  Veronica stood, hitching her purse
onto her shoulder.  "I need to get to my, um, appointment.
Thank you, Mr. Skinner."  She turned just in time to hear
the ping of the elevator bell, and she stepped into the box,
watching the doors close against Assistant Director
Skinner...but not before she caught the look of confusion that
crossed his face.  She had witnessed that look countless
times

How had she known his name?

Veronica punched the button marked B.

*     *     *

Scully looked up from the computer screen instantly, hearing
the faint chime of the elevator bell in the hallway.  Her
heart jumped into her throat and a chill went through her.
It was all she could do to hold herself in the desk chair,
to keep from launching herself out of it and scrambling to
the door.  She knew it wasn't him; she knew he wouldn't just
come walking back into the office one day, hanging his
overcoat on the tree next to the door and throwing file
folders in the general direction of the desk like he had so
many times before.  She knew it wasn't him...but part of her
still prayed that it would be, and that the nightmare of the
last two months would just fade away into normalcy.

Scully let out the breath she realized she was holding.  She
listened to the approaching footsteps and frowned slightly.
Heels.  It was a woman.  Who could it possibly be?  She
pushed back from the computer screen and turned toward the
door just as the woman appeared.

"Agent Scully?" This woman was taller than Scully, with a
thin, delicate build and a sharp-featured face.  Her hair
was blonde and short, but the boyish cut complimented her.
She carried a purse over the shoulder of her suit, which she
seemed a little uncomfortable wearing.  Scully was struck by
the idea that this woman was trying to impress her for some
reason, and she felt her face tighten into a professional
smile.

"Yes."  Scully thought about standing up and didn't.  "Can I
help you?"

The woman stepped forward into the office, stretching her
arm out to Scully.  At first, Scully thought she wanted to
shake hands, but then she noticed the business card she was
offering to her.  As she took it, the woman said, "I think I
can help you."

Scully glanced down at the business card.  It was printed on
heavy cream-colored cardstock, and the information was
brief:

Veronica Chandler
Clairvoyant
Psychic Investigator
617-555-7977

Scully pulled her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her
nose. God, she was tired, and now this?  She looked up at
Veronica Chandler and noticed the heavy circles under the
other woman's eyes.  'She's not sleeping any better than me,'
she thought grimly.

"Miss Chandler," Scully began, trying to sound diplomatic,
"I'm a little lost.  Why exactly are you here to see me?"

"I told you, Agent Scully.  I think I can help you."

Scully shook her head. "Help me?  With what, exactly?  I
don't recall needing anyone with your, uh..." she paused,
trying to find the right word, "...um, expertise, and quite
frankly, I am not much of a believer in psychic phenomena."

Veronica Chandler didn't move.  "I'm here to help you with
your case."

Scully held the woman in her gaze, her voice suddenly quiet.
"What case would that be?"

Veronica Chandler hesitated a moment, and when she spoke,
her voice was soft, like Scully's.  "The case involving your
missing partner.  I'm here to help you find him."

Scully flinched as if the woman had just slapped her, and
her eyes fluttered momentarily.  Mulder?  But when she
spoke, her tone was as neutral and soft as before.  "My
partner."

Veronica Chandler nodded.

"What do you know about it?"

The Chandler woman shifted her weight from one foot to
another, obviously uncomfortable, but Scully didn't invite
her to sit.  He defenses had gone up immediately, as soon as
the woman had mentioned Mulder, and she watched her warily.

The woman crossed her arms, her right hip jutting out as she
assumed her own defiant position.  But she held her own
under Scully's heavy gaze, and she stared right back at her.

"I know that he's been missing for over eight weeks.  I know
that he was with..." here a slight pause... "Assistant Director
Skinner, and he was in Oregon, when he disappeared."  Scully
felt her throat tighten, just as it always did when the
facts of Mulder's case were mentioned.  And then Veronica
Chandler said something Scully had never imagined her
saying.

"And I know that you've been having dreams."

*     *     *

Veronica watched as Agent Scully's face changed.  For most
of the interview so far, she had sat easily in the chair
behind her partner's desk, listening politely and
professionally.  But as soon as Veronica mentioned Fox, she
felt a wall of steel descend between herself and the agent,
like a portcullis slamming down to secure a medieval castle.
Veronica could feel the energy in the room shift from
neutral into overdrive.  She could tell that Agent Scully
was exercising every ounce of decorum she could muster to
stay in control.

Veronica tried not to look defensive, but she knew that she
was sending off hostile signals herself.  She just couldn't
help it sometimes, as much as she tried.  She had been
explaining herself, and this talent that she had, her entire
life, opening herself to disbelief at the best and downright
ridicule at the worst.  It was an exhausting job, one she
hated, and she didn't relish the idea of the next part of
the process, which she knew from experience was coming up
fast: proving herself.

She took a deep breath and eased herself into the chair
across from Agent Scully.  "I know this is difficult for you
to believe," she began, but the other woman cut her off.

"How do you know about Agent Mulder's disappearance, Miss
Chandler?"

Veronica blinked, finally understanding.  "I didn't have
anything to do with it, Agent Scully, if that is what you're
getting at."

"You seem to know a great deal about the circumstances
surrounding this event," Scully replied evenly.  "I don't
know how that would be possible unless you were somehow
involved."

"I'm a clairvoyant, Agent Scully.  I know a great deal about
many things I am not personally involved in."

Veronica watched as the red-haired agent glanced down at her
business card and then began tapping it impatiently against
the fingers of her left hand.  Veronica waited, knowing that
she would continue momentarily, trying to give this
scientific, left-brained woman a chance to wrap her mind
around what she was saying.

Agent Scully finally let out a short breath and said, "How
exactly is that possible?"

"I think, in this case, it has something to do with the
dreams you have been having."  Veronica shifted in the chair
and decided to plunge forward.  "That, and the fact that I
know Agent Mulder."

The tapping sound of the card against Scully's fingers
stopped abruptly.  Veronica found herself looking directly
into the agent's blazing blue eyes, eyes that were
questioning and commanding at the same time.  "You know
Agent Mulder."  It was a statement, not a question, and yet
Veronica felt compelled to answer.

No wonder Fox loved this woman!

"He and I grew up together on the Vineyard.  He was very
good friends with my older brother, Andrew."  Veronica
hesitated, not really knowing what else to say to explain.
She finally finished, "He was like my own brother."

"I see."  Agent Scully's energy was all over the place now,
Veronica noticed, and she could sense the turmoil of
emotions inside her.  Anger, frustration, fear, confusion, a
little bit of jealousy...Veronica marveled at the amount of
control Scully maintained over them all.  No one but a
psychic would have picked all of that up under that
ambivalent veneer.

Agent Scully stood then, her arm out over the desk, the
business card extended to Veronica between her first and
middle fingers.  "Since you are a friend of the family, I
can contact you if we uncover any new evidence of Agent
Mulder's whereabouts.  Now if you'll excuse me, I need to
get back to work."

Veronica stood, too, but she didn't take her card.  "Do you
think I'm making this up? OK, there is a possibility that,
logically, I could have somehow become privy to the details
of this case.  I do a lot of work with law enforcement in
the Boston area.  Technically, I suppose I could've gotten
access, although the Feds don't usually share too much with
the local boys in blue.  But ask yourself, Agent Scully,
just for a minute, how I could possibly know about the
dreams you are having?"

Scully dropped the card onto the desk and turned away, her
hands on her hips.  Veronica could see the bulge of her
weapon underneath her black jacket in the small of her back.
She could also see, with her inner eyes, the colors leaping
around Scully in a dance of light.  Yellow, orange, white,
red, green, a beautiful rainbow of colors, and it
suddenly occurred to Veronica what this new and vital energy
was.  She had seen it before with many women, many times.

Then she heard Scully's voice, low and thick with hostility.
"I think you are some kind of sick fraud.  I think you can
easily see my...emotional attachment to my partner, and you
are somehow trying to prey on my feelings.  I think you are
one of those attention seeking charlatans who just want to
make a fast buck at the expense of the people you are
supposedly helping."  Agent Scully glanced at Veronica over
her shoulder and grinned slightly.  "I think I told you I
wasn't much of a believer in psychic phenomena."

"But the dreams..."

"Everyone dreams!" Scully shouted, whirling around. "Just
because you can make an educated guess that I have been
experiencing disturbing dreams does not convince me that you
are blessed with some supernatural gift!  Anyone who has
been through a personal loss has problems sleeping.  It is
completely natural, and it is completely within reason."

"It's the same dream every night."  Veronica kept her voice
as controlled as she possibly could, knowing that this was
going to startle the agent, possibly even scare her.  She
didn't want to scare her...unless that was the only way she
could get through to her.  "You are in a room, so bright
with light that you can't see.  You have to close your eyes,
the light is so white.  All around you, all you can hear are
Fox's screams.  They are terrible screams.  He sounds awful,
like he is in more pain than you can possibly imagine.  You
start forward, your hands in front of you, trying to follow
the screams, trying to find your way to him, but every time,
you bump into something and can't get any farther.  You call
to him, trying to help him, but he can't seem to hear you,
and you can't seem to find him.  You get more and more
upset, more and more frustrated, until you finally scream,
too, and then you wake up.  You can't get back to sleep for
the rest of the night."

Agent Scully was staring at her, her mouth open and slack.
Veronica had definitely gotten her attention.  "And when you
wake up, it is 3:15 in the morning," she added, not wanting
to miss that important detail.

The silence in the office was so complete that Veronica
could hear the ticking of the clock hung on the wall above
the door.  It stretched out before her for what seemed an
unbelievable amount of time, as if they were now caught in
their own dream state.  Finally, Agent Scully seemed to
shudder slightly, as if a cold chill passed through her.
She wavered on her feet for a second and then immediately
righted herself, catching the edge of the desk with her
hand.  Veronica put hers out to steady her, but she ignored
it.

"How did you know all that?"  Scully's voice was husky, as
if she had indeed just awakened.

Veronica sighed.  "Because I keep having the same dream,
Agent Scully.  I keep dreaming of Fox screaming, and you
trying to help him, and I can't seem to do anything to help
either one of you.  But I think I have it figured out now.
I think I've figured out how to help you help him."

*     *     *

Scully couldn't seem to think straight.  She shook her head,
trying to clear it, trying to figure out some way to proceed
with this insane situation.  Trying to find a way to get rid
of this woman, this flash from the past of Mulder's that had
somehow appeared out of nowhere on this quiet Monday
afternoon and completely shattered any sense of calm that
Scully had managed to create for herself after last night.
After the last six nights, she reminded herself.  The
fleeting thought of needing professional help scurried
through her brain, and she pushed it back, trying to focus
instead on Veronica Chandler and what she was claiming.

'What would Mulder say to this woman if he were here?' She
smiled a little at the thought, knowing that Mulder would
jump all over this claim with his usual enthusiasm for
anything even slightly out of the ordinary.  Plus, he knew
this woman, had grown up with her, so he would have been
even more inclined to listen.  They had worked on cases
before with psychic connections, and, even though she still
tended to be doubtful, some of the conclusions that had come
from those cases had seemed to support some evidence of
unexplained phenomena.

Still, Scully was not Mulder.  As much as she respected him,
trusted him, and followed him, even when he made
inconceivable leaps in response to his own intuition, Scully
simply did not possess that willingness, that faith, and
that belief that he did.  She had her own beliefs, her own
faith, and her science, which far outweighed the others.
And she knew that she couldn't scientifically prove any of
the things that Veronica Chandler was saying to her.

'But what about the dreams?' Scully's mind insisted.  'How
could she have known about those, every last detail, for
God's sake?  How could she have gotten inside my dreams?'

She thought back, to a case she had worked on with Mulder.
He had been experiencing vivid dreams, dreams that led him
to the site where a young girl had been murdered and buried
over twenty years before.  By the end of the case, it seemed
that the evidence indicated that John Lee Roche, the man
responsible for the murders, had somehow orchestrated those
dreams of Mulder's in order to try to manipulate him.  At
least that was what Mulder had believed, and it was
essentially what he had documented in the file.  What was it
he had said to her long ago, and she had repeated back to
him on that very case...?

"A dream is the answer to a question you don't yet know how
to ask."

Scully shook her head again and sighed.  She had to say
something here...Veronica Chandler was staring at her,
waiting, anticipating some kind of response.  Scully smiled
a little, thinking of the Stupendous Yappi, the awful
psychic showman she remembered from another X-File she and
Mulder had investigated.  She had been unimpressed by him,
even when all the other detectives on the case had wanted so
badly to believe in him.  Perhaps she, too, wanted to
believe...

"I am not the Stupendous Yappi, Agent Scully."

Scully's head jerked up.  She knew she looked like an idiot;
she was sure the expression on her face was priceless.
Veronica was looking back at her, her mouth set in a grim
line.  "If you want to talk about charlatans, Agent, I can
give you quite a speech about him."

Scully gave a short laugh, genuinely surprised.  She sunk
back down in the desk chair and rubbed her forehead with her
fingers.  She was hungry, and a slight headache was inching
its way above her eyes.  She hadn't eaten anything earlier.
She was usually sick to her stomach, especially after the
terrible nights she had recently endured.  Nothing would
stay down anymore, not even dry toast or crackers.  But now
the sensation had kicked in, and she found herself wishing
for a nice fattening doughnut and a latte.

"I can get you something to eat, if you want.  But I'll get
you something a little healthier than a doughnut."

Scully laughed again, louder and longer this time.  Finally,
she said, "This is some kind of parlor trick, right, or a
game?  This is telepathy, mind-reading, right?"

Veronica Chandler shrugged and sat down again.  "Not really.
I just get flashes of what you are thinking about, and only
because I am trying to figure out if you believe me yet or
not.  You are a hard woman to read, Agent Scully."

Scully stopped for a moment and regarded the woman across
from her.  She certainly seemed sincere, and she certainly
believed in her own abilities.  How long had she been doing
this, Scully found herself wondering, trying to prove to
people that she was genuine?  Scully could relate to that
feeling herself; she had had to do her fair share of proving
herself to others.  Perhaps that was why Veronica Chandler
had come today dressed in a business suit and heels.  She
knew that Scully would be hard to convince, and she wanted
to make the best impression possible.

The business card was still lying on the desk, and Scully
picked it up, tracing her manicured nails across the raised
lettering.  'Clairvoyant.  Psychic Investigator.'  "You
mentioned that you have worked with law enforcement," she
said weakly, not knowing where to start.

"Yes, that's right.  I work quite often with the police in
Boston.  I can give you the names of some of the detectives,
if you would like to call them.  I'm sure they will tell you
that I have helped them in the past."

"I don't think that will be necessary." Scully raised her
eyes to Veronica Chandler's.  This woman's eyes were the
color of a stormy sky over the sea; they reminded Scully of
her childhood, being out on the ocean with her dad.
Mulder's eyes had been this color before, too, when he wore
black and gray.  His chameleon eyes that changed shades,
from gray to green to brown, depending on his mood and his
wardrobe.  'I just want him back,' Scully thought suddenly,
and her chest ached where her heart seemed to tighten.

"I know you do, Agent Scully.  I know how to help you get
him back."

*     *     *

End Part 1/6
 

TITLE:   In Dreams (2/6)
AUTHOR:   Avalon

For a moment, Veronica regretted saying it.  Sometimes, the
words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth, as if they
weren't really her words at all.  As if they belonged to
some other being, someone who was speaking through her.  But
she knew that Agent Scully was hurting, that she missed her
partner professionally, that she was deeply concerned for
his safety, that she was frightened by the thought that he
was hurt...and that she loved him, quite simply, and that the
acceptance of that love in her life was still new and fresh
and sweetly painful all by itself.  Veronica sensed all
these things in the flash of thought, but she wasn't sure
that Scully really wanted to share any of this with even her
close friends, let alone a complete stranger.  She was a
woman who guarded herself very well, as an officer and as a
person, and she had not let very many people into her life.
Veronica knew that she wouldn't appreciate being pried open
psychically, either, considering how tightly she held onto
her emotions.

So Veronica was surprised when Scully looked up at her and
said, "How?  I'm willing to listen to any insight that you
have, Miss Chandler."

Veronica smiled at her, relieved.  "I'm glad, Agent Scully.
I was starting to think I wasn't getting anywhere with you."

Agent Scully smiled, too, a resigned grin that nonetheless
lit up her face with a radiant light.  A smile, Veronica
knew, that she didn't use very often...not nearly often
enough, and hardly at all recently.  'We've got to find Fox
for her,' she thought to herself, more determined than ever.
'She needs him, and he needs her.'

'They will be together again,' said the voice in her head.
'They are meant to be.'

The agent stood, reaching to shut down the computer.  "I
think it would be better, however, if we spoke about this
somewhere else," she said, not looking at Veronica.  "I know
where we can go."

"Whatever you say, Agent Scully."  Veronica stood, too,
watching as Scully stacked up the files and took her
briefcase from behind the desk.

"Follow me.  I'll drive."

The women walked together through the hallways of the J.
Edgar Hoover building until they emerged in the employee
parking garage.  Scully led Veronica to a midsize dark blue
car and unlocked the passenger side.  Veronica got in as
Scully opened the trunk, threw the files and the briefcase
inside, slammed it shut, and slid behind the wheel of the
car.  Without a word, she started it, and they drove out of
the garage in silence.

"Agent Scu--," Veronica began, but Scully glanced at her,
put her finger to her lips, and shook her head slightly.
'She thinks the car might be bugged,' the voice told Veronica.

'Bugged?  A listening device?  Who would be listening to
them?  And why?'

'Because of Agent Mulder,' the voice answered.  'They watch her
all the time, because of him.  They always know where she
is.  They always know where he is too.  Now he is with them,
but they still see her as a threat.'

Veronica felt a nervous coil start in the pit of her
stomach.  'What have I gotten myself into?'

The voice was silent.  Veronica thought harder, waiting for
an answer, but none came to her.  She hated that...sometimes,
she had been told countless times, you aren't supposed to
know the answer.  Sometimes, you just have to wait and see
where life takes you.  But she didn't like the idea that
perhaps she had gotten herself involved in something that
could be very dangerous.

She sighed.  'Well, think about it, Ronni,' she said to
herself.  'You knew Fox was missing, and you knew someone had
taken him.  You knew he was being held somewhere against his
will, and you knew they were doing something to him that was
hurting him.  Let's put two and two together,
girlfriend...that all adds up to danger, doesn't it?'

But she would do it again.  She would still have come here,
to see this pretty and reserved FBI Agent, to try to help
Fox.  She had to.  She owed it to him.  He had saved her
life, not in the literal sense, but without him, she
wouldn't be who she was today.  He was that important to
Veronica, and she would never forget what he had done for
her.

The realization that the car had stopped broke Veronica's
reverie, and she glanced out the window.  They were parked
on a street in front of an older, dark brick building.
Agent Scully was already out of the car, waiting for her on
the sidewalk.  Veronica popped open the door and stepped out
onto the concrete, wrestling her purse out with her.

"This is Fox's apartment?" she asked Scully, already knowing
the answer.

Scully nodded and wordlessly led her up the steps and into
the building.  They rode the elevator up a few floors and
stepped out into a dimly lit hallway.  Agent Scully walked
quickly, digging in the pocket of her jacket for a set of
keys.  She extracted the correct one from the jangling mess
on her keying and inserted it into the lock of apartment 42.
Veronica heard the tumblers fall, and Scully pushed the door
open and walked inside, reaching to turn on a light.  She
seemed very comfortable here, Veronica noticed, and she was
glad about that.  It would make everything a lot easier if
Scully was comfortable.

Veronica followed her inside.  "I'm assuming that this
apartment is not bugged," she said, laying her purse on a
side table by the door.

"No, it's not.  I went through it with a fine tooth comb
myself.  It's clean."  Scully kicked off her heels,
shrinking a good two and a half inches as she did it.  She
suddenly looked frail to Veronica, frail and tired and in
desperate need of some nurturing.  "I'll put on some
coffee," she said, and she pushed past Veronica and went
into the kitchen.

Veronica took off her jacket and hung it on the tree next to
the door, looking around the apartment.  She smiled a
little, surveying the spare furnishings and the dark colors.
Definitely Fox.  With her inner senses, she could feel his
energy in this room, and it was still a fairly strong
energy, telling her that he had spent a lot of time here,
and had probably lived here for quite some time.  She
crossed into the living room, next to the desk by the
window, noticing a basketball balanced precariously on a
stack of files propped up against the computer.  Fox and
Drew, playing one-on-one on the school playground, the
August sun beating down on them all as the wind kicked up a
good breeze off the Cape.  Fox had always been a better
athlete than Drew, but neither boy had been overly
competitive, at least not with each other.  They were
playing for fun, and she could remember them laughing,
knocking into each other as one made his way toward the
hoop, elbowing and catcalling as the shooter went up for the
basket.  It was a wonderful memory, the two boys she loved
best in the world when she was just a little girl, and it
was one that she hadn't thought about much lately...until the
dreams had started.

She reached over the desk chair to take the basketball.  As
soon as her hands encircled it, a blinding flash rocketed
through her mind, like a comet blazing in the night sky.  It
was so violent it knocked her to her knees.

She could see him.  Veronica could see Fox now.

*     *     *

The coffee smelled wonderful to Scully, and she breathed it
in as it perked happily in the old-fashioned coffee pot.
Mulder hadn't made coffee that often, but she always had
thought his tasted better, and she figured it was because of
the way it was made.  Not instant...real coffee.  She probably
shouldn't have been drinking it, but she really felt like
she needed the caffeine boost.  Just a little wouldn't hurt.

Scully opened the cupboard above the sink and pulled down a
package of cookies she has stashed up there.  She had been
spending a lot of time in Mulder's apartment, and she had
bought a few items to keep his kitchen stocked to her
liking.  She wasn't exactly sure why she kept coming; being
around his things was painful sometimes.  But it was oddly
comforting, too, and she supposed that was why she often
left work at night and drove straight to his place.  She
told herself she was just keeping an eye on things, feeding
the fish, and it was only a couple of blocks from
headquarters, on the way to her house, anyway...but usually
when she came, she stayed, falling asleep on the leather
couch with the TV on low.  She had been sleeping at home for
the last week, however...did that have something to do with
the nightmares?

She tore open the plastic wrap on the cookies and bit into a
chocolate chip.  It melted sweetly on her tongue, and she
found herself wishing for simple things again, things like
sitting next to Mulder on his sofa, sipping coffee and
discussing a case.  Things that she had taken for granted so
long while he was here and missed so sorely now that he was
gone.

She retrieved a plate from the sink that was already dry and
spread the cookies out on it.  Could this Veronica Chandler
really help her to locate Mulder?  Could she really dare to
wish again, to believe in something so unscientific, so
implausible as the idea that this woman could be in her
dreams and somehow know how to find him?  Scully found
herself hoping so, praying it could be true, as she gathered
up a few napkins and carried the plate with her out of the
kitchen.

Veronica Chandler was on her knees, her head down over her
lap, when Scully came into the living room.  Scully kicked
the basketball that was on the floor in front of her as she
set the plate down on the coffee table.  "Miss Chandler?"
she said, a little alarmed.  She touched Veronica's shoulder
and watched as the woman's head rolled toward her.  Her eyes
were closed, but they were moving rapidly underneath the
lids, as if she was in REM sleep.  "Veronica!"  Scully gave
her a slight shake, and the other woman's eyes flew open.

"Fox," she muttered, and then her eyes focused on Scully.

"Veronica, it's Agent Scully.  Can your hear me?"  Scully
realized she was talking a little too loudly, and she
lowered her voice so she wouldn't scare her.  "Are you
alright?"

Veronica started to stand, and Scully helped her, allowing
the taller woman to lean on her slightly as she walked her
to the couch.  As she sank down into in, Veronica said,
"Yes, I'm OK, I think.  Just give me a minute."

Scully pulled one of Mulder's straight-backed chairs over
next to the couch.  "What happened?"

"I shouldn't have touched his basketball."  Veronica smiled
wanly.  "The energy vibration in this room is extremely
high.  It's a little overwhelming to me."  She sat up
suddenly and leaned forward, her face earnest.  "But I saw
him, Agent Scully.  When I picked up the basketball, I had a
momentary vision of Fox.  That hasn't happened before."

"What do you mean?"  Scully asked.

"In the dreams, I have never seen him.  Like you, I can only
hear him.  I can see you in the dreams, but obviously you
can't see anything, and you can't hear me, even though I
have screamed myself hoarse trying to get your attention.  I
can't seem to do anything in them except stand there and
watch you, and listen to Fox.  But just now, when I held
that basketball, I finally saw him.  I think his energy is
much more easily accessed in this room, where his vibration
is so high."

Scully licked her lips, trying to process all this
information, trying to get a handle on it in her own mind.
"So what did you see?"

Veronica paused.  "I saw him lying on a table," she answered
finally.  "It looked like a table you would see in a
hospital, very white, clean, clinical.  He looked like he
was asleep."

"Was he hurt?"  Scully could barely choke out the words.

"I don't know.  He looked very peaceful. But his energy..." She
stopped.

"What?"  Scully prodded.

Veronica sighed.  "His energy seems extremely low, like he
has had most of it drained out of him.  I don't know what
they do to him, but they must...what...test him or whatever at
night, and then let him recover during the day."  Veronica
shook her head, as if in disbelief.  "But he is not
recovering well.  His energy is too low."  She looked hard
at Scully.  "He's not going to last much longer.  We have to
get to him tonight.  We have to help him."

"What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that they are killing him, Agent Scully.  They
are trying to break his spirit, and they have almost
succeeded.  If they do, he will give up, and he will die.
We have got to find him tonight if you want him to live."

*     *     *

Veronica hoped that she was hiding her anxiety as well as
Agent Scully seemed to be hiding hers.  That vision of Fox
had scared her, scared her badly.  Not so much how he
looked...as she had told Scully, he looked peaceful, asleep,
as if he were just resting like everyone else did after a
long day at work.  What scared her was how he felt...it was
hard to describe to people like Agent Scully, people who
didn't understand esoteric things like the human energy
field.  But all around him, all Veronica could feel was
coldness.  She knew he was still alive in that place,
wherever it was.  But she also knew from the way that his
energy felt that he wouldn't remain alive much longer.

"I think it's time to discuss what we need to do, Agent
Scully."

Scully shifted in the hard chair and leaned forward, her
fingertips tented under her chin.  "I need to ask you a
question, Veronica...may I call you that?"

"Of course."  Veronica smiled at the formality.  "If I can
call you Dana."

It was Scully's turn to smile.  "Not too many people call me
Dana.  But it's nice to hear it."  'Fox calls her Scully.
She calls him Mulder,' the voice in Veronica's head told her.
'They won't change that, even now that they are involved.'
Veronica was so busy listening to the voice that she almost
missed Scully's question.

"Who are these people that have taken Mulder?"

"I don't know," Veronica answered truthfully.

"Then what do they want?"

Veronica felt stupid and frustrated, for she realized she
didn't have the exact answers that Scully was looking for.
She had been told by the voice that sometimes, as the
medium, you didn't need to understand the answer.  You just
needed to relay it to the person asking the question.  "I
don't really understand all of it, Dana," Veronica finally
admitted.  "It has something to do with his brain, his
understanding, the answers to something that they think Fox
has.  He has...become...something else, and they are interested
in that.  But they are also afraid of him, because of his
work, the work that the two of you do together.  And they
are more afraid of him now than they are interested in
keeping him alive.  Because there are others that they can
study...a little boy...Anyway, they will keep him alive only as
long as he wants to be kept alive.  And he is losing his
will to live."  Veronica sighed.  "I don't know how to
explain it any better."

"I understand everything that you just told me."

Veronica looked up at Scully in disbelief.  "You do?"

Scully nodded.  Once again, she looked incredibly tired, as
if she were carrying the weight of the world on her
shoulders.  Veronica wanted very badly to take that burden
away from this woman.  She needed to be concentrating on
other things.

"His will to live is the key here," Veronica continued.  "I
think he is in so much pain that it completely blocks out
his awareness of other things.  I think he is giving up.
You've got to convince him to keep going, to keep living."

Scully looked at her, her brows knitted together in
concentration.  "What?  I don't think I understand..."

Veronica knew she was going to have to be blunt.  She sensed
that these two agents didn't talk about their feelings for
each other very often, and that Scully was still having a
hard time sorting out her own feelings for her partner.  Oh,
she loved him, and she had finally admitted to herself that
she did...but this was not a subject that she was easy with
yet, and now that he was missing, her fear and anger were
getting in the way of her love for him.  Veronica knew that
the love had to come through first, or Fox wouldn't feel it.
And he had to feel it to stay alive.

"He needs to feel your love, Dana.  That is the key to
saving him.  If he can feel that, if he can know that you
are still here, looking for him, loving him, then he will
find the strength to endure this and come home to you."

Scully looked away, but not before Veronica saw the single
tear that slipped from her eye and slid down over the angle
of her cheek.  She folded her hands and leaned her head
forward over them, her crimson hair falling across her face,
hiding her grief.  Veronica put her hand out and rested it
on Scully's shoulder, feeling her own eyes well up with
tears.  The emotion between these two people was
overwhelming her senses.  She could feel how much they had
been through together, how each had literally saved the
other one countless times, and how they had finally
acknowledged the deepness of their feeling and commitment to
each other.  Veronica thought of the Fox she remembered and
realized that he had become a completely different person,
and part of it was due to this beautiful woman with whom he
had shared so much in the last seven years.  Veronica knew,
too, that he was a better man because of Scully, and she
smiled a little.

They sat that way in silence for a while, until finally,
Scully lifted her head.  Her cheeks glistened from the
trails of her tears, but she looked serene and collected
when she spoke.  "I understand what you are saying to me,
Veronica," she said, her voice quiet and throaty, "but I
don't know how to do what you are asking.  In the dreams, I
can't find him.  I call to him, but he can't hear me."

"I know.  Are you familiar with the term lucid dreaming?"

Scully shrugged.  "I believe it is some kind of method of
somehow controlling dreams while you are experiencing them."

"That's right.  Some people use it to fly in their dreams, or
to act out certain fantasies, or to even practice asking for
a raise before they actually go to see their boss.  I think
we can use it to help you talk to Fox, and to help us find
out where he is."

Scully rubbed her face dry with the backs of her hands.  "So
how do you use it?  How can you actually control your dreams?"

"You have to program your mind to be lucid before you
go to sleep.  You have to focus your intent, the
intention that you will be lucid and aware in the dream,
before you fall asleep.  I can help you learn how to do
that."

Scully sighed, and Veronica could see her skepticism
creeping in.  After all, she was a doctor, and Veronica knew
she was used to looking at things from her own scientific
platform.  She didn't use her own intuition very often, and
she obviously didn't trust it.  Veronica reached over and
touched Scully's hand.  It was such a little hand, the
fingers delicate and small, but it was warm and soft, and
Veronica was struck suddenly by the thought of how loving
Dana Scully truly was.  She didn't show it; she had learned
to tuck it away under the veneer of professionalism, both as
a scientist and as an FBI agent, but it radiated out of her
in looping waves of energy, just as Fox's energy vibrated
throughout this room.  "Dana, you can do this," Veronica
said urgently, squeezing her hand.  "I know you can.  You
just have to believe in yourself, and in your love for Fox."

The corners of Scully's mouth tipped up slightly into a
smile at the mention of Fox, and a short laugh escaped from
her.  "Do you know how funny he would find this?" she asked,
surprising Veronica a little.  She hadn't expected this
woman to open up to her, but it seemed that she needed to
now.  Veronica sensed that there were not too many people,
especially women, that Scully could talk with.  The name
Melissa flashed through her mind, and Veronica understood
instantly that this was Scully's sister, and that she was
dead.  They had been working on a new closeness when Melissa
died, and Scully had taken the death very hard.  There was
Scully's mother...'Maggie,' the voice whispered, and although
they shared a good relationship, there were some things,
especially those related to Scully's work, that they did not
discuss.  And it seemed they didn't discuss Scully's
relationship with Fox much at all...Veronica could pick up
some family hostility there, not coming from the mother, but
from another source.  She let it go...she didn't want to be
nosy, and Scully wasn't talking about her family, anyway.
But she did want to talk about Fox.  It was obvious that she
had bottled all of this emotion up inside her, and now, she
could release it.

"Why?" Veronica asked.  "Why would he find this funny?"

Scully dropped her hand and folded hers again, like a little
girl at prayer.  "It is just a very unorthodox method of
investigation for me to be following," she answered, the
hint of a smile still there.  "Mulder is much better at
following his instincts than I am."

Veronica smiled at her.  "But don't you see?  That's why you
compliment each other so well.  You are two halves of a
whole.  You feel that, don't you?"

Scully wouldn't look at her, but she nodded.

"And now, we'll bring him back so your family can be
complete."

Scully brought her eyes back up to Veronica's, and they were
bright blue with wonderment.  There was a pause, and then
she asked, "How did you know?"

"I'm not trying to be nosy, Dana.  I'm sorry.  This stuff
just comes through to me."  Veronica stopped, not sure she
should continue and then decided to go ahead.  "When is the
baby due?"

"February," Scully whispered, and Veronica could see her
eyes misting.

"He doesn't know, does he?"

Scully swiped at her eyes with an almost angry gesture and
looked out the window.  "I didn't find out until after he
disappeared."  She glanced back at Veronica, her voice
professional again.  "I would appreciate it if you would
keep this to yourself.  Only a handful of people know, and
I'd like to keep it that way for now."  Veronica sensed
something here, a fear almost, not a fear of embarrassment,
or social stigma, but an actual fear for the life of this
child.  It was not something that Scully acknowledged on a
conscious level, but it was there, rumbling in the distance
like a thunderstorm warning to strike.  Veronica shivered
involuntarily, but she smiled to mask it.

"Who am I going to tell, Dana?  Besides, I'm sure Fox will
want to be at the top of the list."

Scully stood then, a restlessness coming over her.  "What do
we need to do now?" she asked, obviously glad to change the
subject.

"I think we should eat, something more than cookies, although
they look good.  You need to eat.  And then we can get
started.  We need to get you in to see Fox."

*   *   *

End Part 2/6
--

TITLE:   In Dreams (3/6)
AUTHOR:   Avalon

Scully could remember countless times, sitting exactly as
she was now, her stocking feet tucked under her, the leather
of Mulder's couch cool against them, eating egg rolls and
Kung Pao chicken out of take out boxes from the Chinese
restaurant around the corner.  Usually, they would have been
discussing a case, but occasionally, they would watch a
movie together, two beers in sweating bottles sitting before
them on the coffee table.  Even though the movie nights had
been too few, she liked those times better.  Mulder was
fascinating to work with, and she admired his skills as an
investigator and his brilliance as a profiler, two qualities
that had brought them far together as a team.  But she
preferred their quiet times together, speaking in almost
hushed tones about their families, or the personal
experiences that had brought them to where they were now.
And Mulder was always fun, his easy sense of humor and his
ability to sense what she was thinking comfortable and
expected and ultimately safe.  Even when he insisted on
watching terrible guy movies like 'Caddyshack,' they always
had a good time.

So it was a little odd to be sitting here with a woman, a
woman that Mulder had known in his childhood, a woman who
obviously could know anything about Scully that she wanted
to simply by thinking about it hard enough.  But somehow,
Veronica Chandler had taken on her own feeling of comfort
for Scully, and she trusted her.  She didn't really have a
choice, did she?  Her longing to find Mulder, to bring him
home safe, had turned into something more akin to a
desperate need, and she was going to do this no matter what
happened now.

Scully couldn't believe how much she ate, and she was a
little embarrassed.  She knew she needed to eat, and she
could already feel the weight that she had begun to pick up.
The skirts and pants of her suits were beginning to feel
tight, but acknowledging that she needed to shop for new
clothes also meant publicly acknowledging that she was
pregnant.  She wasn't sure that she was ready to do that.
She accepted the fact with the same sort of clinical
detachment that she had shown when she was told she had
cancer.  Apart from a few moments of emotion with Assistant
Director Skinner when she had first found out, she didn't
think about this baby much at all.  She had forced herself
not to.  She knew if she did, she would become emotionally
unbalanced, and that was something she certainly couldn't
afford right now.  She had to focus on finding Mulder, and
that was all she had focused on ever since her pregnancy had
been diagnosed.  She reasoned that there would be plenty of
time to enjoy this new experience once he was home.  She
hadn't even told her mother yet...something continued to hold
her back.  She still wasn't sure what it was.  Her mother
would be supportive, and she knew that Maggie Scully would
be ecstatic considering that Dana was not supposed to have
been able to have children.  But the question of the baby's
father would inevitably come up, and Scully wasn't sure she
was ready to deal with her family on that subject.

And there was the simple fact that Veronica Chandler had
touched on a little while before.  'I'm sure Fox will want to
be at the top of the list.'  Scully hated that he wasn't the
first person to know.  She hated that she had had to tell
Skinner before Mulder, simply because she felt that the A.D.
had to know because it might affect her work.  And she had
ended up telling the Lone Gunmen when they had helped her
take Mulder's apartment apart piece by piece as they looked
for bugs.  She wasn't sure why she had told them...the only
explanation that she really had was that she was afraid.
For some unfathomable reason, she feared for this child.
The genetic material that made Mulder so interesting to
these faceless people that had taken him was now within her,
growing into a child that the two of them had created
together.  And if it was in Mulder, it could very possibly
be in his child.  What would they do if they found that out?

Scully closed her eyes and willed herself to stop.  She
wouldn't think about it anymore...she would wait until Mulder
was home, and then they would decide what to do about it
together.  Because she didn't think she could bear having to
face this on her own.

Scully pulled herself up from the couch and started to
gather up the cartons of food.  Veronica stood and helped
her, carrying them out into the kitchen and setting the
utensils in the sink.  When they returned to the living
room, Veronica asked, "Feeling pretty full?"

"Yes, actually, I feel like I am about to bust."  Scully
shifted uncomfortably in her tailored skirt.  "I should have
stopped at home and got some other clothes."

Veronica studied her.  "You know, it would be easier for you
if you were more comfortable.  Why don't you borrow
something of Fox's and put it on?  You know, a t-shirt and
sweats?  I'm sure there's something here you could wear."

Scully hesitated a moment, but changing into something else
did sound good.  "Well, let me see what I can find."  She
crossed the living room and opened the door to his bedroom,
shutting it behind her.

She turned on the lamp on the bedside table and looked
around the room.  She hadn't been in Mulder's bedroom very
often...hell, for the first few years they had worked
together, she hadn't even known he had a bedroom.  He had
mostly slept on the couch, when he slept.  The bed was made,
neatly tucked into the corners of the mattress, the blanket
on top a muted shade of green.  Like the rest of the
apartment, there was not a lot of clutter.  A pair of
sneakers peeked out from beneath the chair in the corner,
and a stray tie was draped across the chair itself.  She
walked to the dresser and stopped, her eyes falling on the
pictures in frames that were there.  One of Samantha by
herself, when she was just a little girl of about four.  One
of Mulder and Samantha together, the two of them under a
tree...that picture must have been taken right before Samantha
disappeared.  Mulder looked to be about twelve in the photo.
A picture of his mother and father, young and happy, before
they had divorced.  All the family that Mulder had in the
world...and now they were all gone.

Scully pulled open the top drawer.  Undershirts and shorts,
handkerchiefs and socks.  A few tie tacks were scattered
across the bottom, along with a small box that looked like
something a man would put keepsakes in.  She traced the
burnished wooden top of it with a finger, considering, and
then she lifted its lid.

She caught a hint of flashing metal, and she pulled out
three rings that were tied together with a piece of ribbon.
A class ring, obviously Mulder's from high school, the blue
stone muted and dull in the dark light of the room.  A gold
wedding band, almost the same size as the class ring, and a
woman's ring, with a small diamond in the middle and tiny
teardrop gems on either side.  That was probably Teena
Mulder's; she most likely had given it to her son when she
and Bill had divorced.  And the man's ring probably belonged
to Mulder's father, again cast off after the family was
split apart.  Scully put the rings back, her attention drawn
instead by the sight of a dainty, oval picture frame.

She turned it over to see the picture, and she caught her
breath, stunned.  She was looking at herself.  She
recognized the photo, of course...it was the one that was in
her FBI file.  They didn't retake those pictures very often,
so the photo was about three years old.  She always hated
the file pictures, because they always looked like mug
shots, but this one wasn't too bad.  Her hair had flipped
the right way that morning for once, and she actually had a
hint of a smile on her face.

Scully wondered how Mulder had gotten the picture.  She knew
her file was still complete, so he must have taken it out
and scanned it, making a copy on the computer and replacing
the photo in the file.  Then he must have shrunk it to fit
and printed it.  She smiled a little at his resourcefulness,
wondering how long he had had this picture stashed away in
his drawer.  How long had he loved her without telling her?

She shut the drawer, still holding the picture, and set it
on top of the dresser, pulling the little stand out from
behind it to prop it up.  It looked nice, she thought,
sitting there next to the picture of Mulder and Samantha.
It looked like it belonged.

With a shaky sigh, she opened the next drawer, finding three
neat stacks of t-shirts.  Most of them were gray, and Scully
grinned again.  She knew Mulder was colorblind, so she
understood his mostly monochromatic wardrobe.  But in the
stack farthest to the right, she spied his New York Knicks
shirt, and impulsively, she grabbed it.  He hardly ever wore
it, but it was the one that reminded her of him more than
all the others.

In the next drawer, she found several pairs of jeans and two
pairs of sweatpants.  She pulled out a pair of navy blue
sweats and threw them on the bed, shutting the drawer with
her hip.

She was glad to pull off her skirt and her pantyhose and
replace them with the softness of the warmup pants.  They
were too big, and they pooled at her ankles in ridiculous
folds, but they had a drawstring that she was able to secure
pretty well around her waist.  The Knicks shirt hung easily
below her hips, and she couldn't help wondering if she would
actually grow into this shirt by the end of the pregnancy.
She briefly entertained the idea, and then, switching off
the light, went back into the living room.

"The Knicks!" Veronica exclaimed.  She was sitting in the
armchair across from the couch, her own feet bare of shoes
and stockings.  "I see Fox hasn't changed very much since he
was a boy."

Scully sat opposite her. "When was the last time you saw
him, Veronica?"

Veronica smiled.  She was a very pretty woman, Scully
thought suddenly, and she felt a small jab of jealousy
needle into her.  "Well, I talked to Fox once, after he
started at the Bureau.  He was in Violent Crimes then, and
he called me to ask for my help on a case.  We chatted
briefly, and that was it.  It must have been almost ten
years ago.  But I haven't actually seen him since I was
eighteen."

"He asked for your...psychic help...on a case?"

Veronica nodded.  "He had his own intuition about this
case...it's been so long, I can't even remember what it was
about...and he just called me to confirm what he was feeling."
She stopped, and then she added, "Fox was always very
supportive about my abilities."

"I imagine he was."  Scully couldn't help but be
curious...after all, Mulder never talked about his childhood,
and he had never mentioned his old friends, except when they
suddenly reappeared in his life.  She wondered what he had
been like as a child...and whether their own child might be
like him.

"He was a really great friend," Veronica offered, and Scully
realized that the other woman had been reading her thoughts
again.  "He and Drew were extremely close.  They did
everything together.  And they always let Samantha and I tag
along, although Samantha had some other friends that she
spent time with, too.  So usually it was Drew, Fox, and I."

"You knew Samantha, too?"

"She and I were almost the same age.  She was a nice girl, a
little bossy sometimes, but Fox was really indulgent with
her.  And he teased her like crazy...I know you know how older
brothers can be!"  Scully laughed, thinking of Bill, and
nodded in agreement.  "Drew and Fox harassed us constantly,
but they were always really loving, really protective too,
you know?"

"Our house burned down when I was about seven or eight,"
Veronica continued, and Scully nodded again.  She could
vaguely remember Mulder mentioning that his best friend's
house had caught on fire when he was growing up.  "Drew and
Fox stayed in the rubble that night, to try to keep away
looters, they said.  They wouldn't let Samantha and I stay
with them that time.  They were being the big macho guys,
you know; they weren't afraid to stay there all night, in
the dark, by themselves.  But I think the real reason they
didn't want us there was because of me."

"What do you mean?"

Veronica looked down at her hands, which she had laced
together in her lap.  "Drew was angry with me.  He was mad
because I had told him that the house was going to burn
down, and he thought that I should've somehow been able to
stop it."

Scully blinked.  She could hear the emotion in Veronica's
voice.  "You knew it was going to catch on fire?  You saw
this in a vision before it happened?"

"Yes."  Veronica glanced at Scully then, and her eyes were
blazing with an inner light.  "But I couldn't have stopped
it.  That's one of the curses of this whole thing!I can't
know everything, and the things that I do know, I can't
always do anything about." Her voice dropped suddenly, and
Scully had to strain to hear her.  "I couldn't do anything
about Samantha, either."

For a moment, Scully stopped breathing.  "You knew Samantha
was going to be taken?"

The other woman stood up then and crossed to the window.
The light was fading from the sky, and the lamps along
Mulder's street were beginning to spark to life.  "I didn't
know how, or why, or who was going to take her, but yes, I
knew."  Veronica's voice had another catch in it, as if
tears were close by, waiting to come to the surface.  "But I
never told anyone.  Drew had been so angry at me about the
fire...I thought he would never speak to me again.  I thought
if I told Fox about Samantha, he would hate me, too.  I
couldn't bear the thought of losing them both.  So I didn't
tell him then, even though he might have been able to help
her, or to stop the people that took her away."

Scully's voice was soothing when she spoke.  "He couldn't
have stopped them, Veronica.  He was just a boy himself.
It's not your fault."

"He never blamed me, you know."  Veronica turned toward
Scully, and the agent could see that the tears had fallen
onto her cheeks.  "Even when he found out, years later, that
I had known, he was never angry with me."

"So you told him?"

"I felt like I had to.  I felt like I owed it to him."  She
smiled softly.  "He took me to my senior prom, did you know
that?"

Scully shook her head.

"He came back to the island for a few days that May, and he
stopped at our house to see Drew."  Veronica's voice was
distant with memory, and Scully found herself transported to
Martha's Vineyard, as if she were watching the scenes in a
movie.  "It was a newer house, the one my parents had bought
in North Tisbury after the fire.  It had one of those
beautiful wraparound porches on it, and I loved to sit out
there and read.  I did a lot of reading...I didn't have too
many friends, especially in high school.  When you live in a
small community like that, everyone knows everyone else's
business, which is really a terrible thing sometimes.
Anyway, most of the people on the Vineyard thought I was a
freak...a couple of people had found out about my ability, and
they thought I was some kind of devil or something.  Well, I
was sitting out there on the porch after school that Friday,
reading as usual, and Fox comes walking up, as if he had
appeared out of thin air.  He was at Oxford then, I think. I
remember his hair was longer, and he was wearing a blue
windbreaker, it was so breezy that day...he must have been
twenty-one or twenty-two.  He asked about Drew, but he was
working on the Cape by then, so he sat with me, and we
talked for a long time.  I don't remember about what, but
then he said he noticed the signs at the high school and
asked if I was going to the prom.  It was the next night, on
Saturday, and I laughed when he asked.

"'Who would take me to prom, Fox?' I said.

"'You're not going?' And I laughed at him again, not wanting
to say the obvious out loud.

"'I would take you to prom, Ronni,' he said then, and I
looked at him, thinking he was teasing me.  But his face was
serious.  'Do you want to go?'

"I still thought he was teasing me, but a part of me was
really hoping he wasn't. 'I'd go with you,' I said, and he
smiled.

"'Then I'll see you tomorrow night around seven.'  And he
got up and walked down the steps to the road and disappeared
around the bend, just like that.

"I couldn't believe it.  And then I started thinking, you
dumbass!  What did you just do?  You can't go to prom, you
don't even have a dress!  So I ran in the house.  My mom was
in the kitchen, her hand stuck inside a chicken she was
making for dinner, and I screamed, 'We have to go to the
Cape right now!  I have to buy a prom dress!"  Veronica was
laughing at the memory, and Scully found herself giggling
right along with her.

"So my mother and I dropped the entire dinner, and she took
me to Cape Cod so that we could find a prom dress.  My mom
was so funny...she kept saying, 'But what is Fox going to
wear?'  She was more concerned about him than me!  But we
finally found a dress, one of those hideous ones that were
so in style when we were in school.  It was pale yellow,
with one of those huge skirts that you had to wear a
crinolin under...but of course, I thought I looked like
Cinderella.

"So the next night, I'm on the porch in my dress, sitting on
the swing, and Fox comes walking up the road.  He must've
borrowed his tux from his dad.  It was a little too big for
him, because he's always been kind of thin, but it looked
nice on him.  Black pants, white dinner jacket...and he
brought me a corsage, of course, little white roses and
yellow carnations on a band for my wrist.  I don't know how
he knew to get yellow, but he did.

"And the next thing I know, we're at the high school, and I
was scared to death to go in.  Fox looked at me and said,
'Ronni, what are you afraid of?  We're just here to have a
good time.'  But I was so afraid of all those other kids,
the ones that had made fun of me or ignored me for years.
But I looked at him, and he seemed so confident, and he
looked so handsome, that I knew I couldn't let him down.  He
gave me his arm, and I tucked my hand into it, and we walked
in together.

"Now let me just say we turned quite a few heads.  Everyone
knew Fox.  He had been a loner himself in school, especially
after Samantha vanished, but he was a favorite with all the
teachers.  And after he had been accepted at Oxford,
everyone thought he must have been a genius.  So all these
kids were looking at us, turning to their dates, whispering
together, and what is Fox doing?  He's just smiling away, as
if he was arriving for the Academy Awards.  And of course,
all the teachers were coming over to us, shaking his hand,
asking about England, and grinning at me like I was the
luckiest girl in the room.

"And you know what, Dana?  I felt like the luckiest girl in
the room.  Just like every other girl, I had always dreamed
of going to prom, having it be this magical night right out
of a fairy tale, and for me, it was.  Fox showed up that
weekend, just like some white knight riding in on his steed,
and he rescued me.  We danced, and we talked, and for one
night, I felt like a normal eighteen-year-old girl.

"So as he was walking me home, I was thinking about all of
this, and I was thinking about Samantha.  I just couldn't
help feeling terrible about her.  I couldn't help thinking
that she should have been at prom, too, with a handsome date
and stars in her eyes, just like me.  So just as we're about
to go up the steps onto my porch, I stopped him.  He turned
to look at me, and I told him about how I knew Samantha was
going to be taken, and how I couldn't bring myself to tell
him all those years ago.  I almost started to cry, and I
just couldn't look at him anymore.  I told him how sorry I
was, and how I hoped he didn't hate me.

"And he put a finger under my chin and tilted my head up so
he could look at me.  And he said, very softly, 'I don't
hate you, Ronni.  It wouldn't have mattered if I had known,
anyway.  But I will find her.'  I could tell by the look on
his face that he was determined, and I believed he would
find her.

"Then he said something absolutely amazing to me, something
I will never forget.  He said, 'Ronni, you have a gift.
I've always believed in you.  You've got to believe in
yourself so that you can use it to help other people.
People may think you're crazy, or they may not believe you,
but you know what is true for you.  And you have to believe
in that truth, and you have to live that truth.  That's what
it's all about.'

"He kissed me then, very soft on the lips, like a brother
would kiss his little sister who is going off to bed.  And
he turned and disappeared back down the street.  That was
the last time I saw Fox."

Veronica stood there for a few minutes, caught up in her
memory, and Scully sat, stilled by the beauty of the moment.
She had never thought about Mulder this way, as a young man,
taking his best friend's sister to her prom and encouraging
her to be true to her own heart.  It was a whole other side
of him that she had never seen, and she found herself
grateful that Veronica had shared it with her.

Scully cleared her throat, noticing that a lump had formed
there.  "That's a very sweet memory, Veronica.  I wish I had
known him then."

Veronica blinked and shook her head a little as if trying to
clear it.  She smiled a bit as she made her way back to the
armchair and sat.  "But you know him now, and that's the
important thing," she answered.  "Now, let's see if we can
get you ready to work tonight."

*     *     *

Veronica hoped she knew what she was doing.  She had
encouraged Scully, telling her that she could do this...it was
a good thing Scully wasn't psychic.  If she was, she might
have been able to see Veronica's own doubt, and then the two
women would have had little hope of finding Fox in time.
Veronica's nerves were ragged again, the memory of her time
with Fox on the Vineyard strengthening her resolve and
shaking her belief in herself at the same time.  He had
believed in her then, and she knew he would have believed in
her now if he were here with them.  Why couldn't she believe
in herself?

Scully was looking at her expectantly, waiting, anticipating
her directive.  'Well, it's now or never, Ronni,' she said to
herself.  'We've got to try this.'

She closed her eyes momentarily.  'I could use a little help
here.'

'You shall have it.'  Veronica breathed in a huge gulp of air.
The voice was still there, thank God.

"OK, Dana.  This first time is just for practice.  Are you
ready?"

Scully took a deep breath and nodded her head, her mouth set
in a grim line.

"Now, I think you should lie down.  You're going to go to
sleep, so you need to be as comfortable as possible."
Scully pulled her short legs up onto the sofa with her, slid
back, and stretched out, her head resting lightly on the arm
next to the aquarium.  'That's good,' Veronica found herself
thinking.  'The bubbling from the aquarium is nice and
soothing.  She shouldn't have any trouble falling asleep.'

"Are you comfortable?"

Scully nodded again.  Veronica could tell she was
concentrating and didn't want to talk.  She leaned back in
the armchair, trying to get comfortable herself.  She needed
to be relaxed, too, and right now, her energy was scattered.
"OK, Dana, I want you to take some nice deep breaths.  In
through your nose, out through your mouth.  I'm going to
take some too, so follow me."  Veronica breathed in and
watched as Scully did the same.  They took a few more
breaths together, and Veronica could feel herself start to
settle down.  She directed her attention to her feet,
pulling the energy down, grounding herself with the energy
of the earth.  She watched Scully closely and could tell
from the agent's aura that she was also starting to relax,
the deep breaths working the necessary magic.

"Now close your eyes, Dana."  Scully did, and Veronica saw
the colors around her deepen in reflection of her serenity.
" I want you to concentrate, Dana.  This time, we are not
trying to find him.  I want you to go to sleep, but I want
you to direct the dream that you have.  Tell yourself now,
in your head, that you are in control.  Tell yourself that
you can direct this dream.  Tell yourself that you are aware
of everything that happens while you sleep.  You are in
control.  You are in control."  Veronica repeated the
directives several times, watching as Scully slipped closer
and closer toward sleep.  She was not surprised to see her
fall asleep so quickly; she was quite aware of the toll that
the nightmares had had on Scully.  They had had the same
effect on her.  Veronica found herself drifting toward
sleep, and she reminded herself with the same control
directives.  She would not be with Scully this time, but she
needed to practice, too, for when they would go in together.
Just before she drifted off, Veronica heard herself say,
"Now dream of him, Scully.  Dream of Mulder."  It was a
different voice that spoke.

*     *     *

End Part 3/6
 

--

TITLE:   In Dreams (4/6)
AUTHOR:   Avalon

Scully's apartment was dark, and she reached for the light
switch next to the door.  The hallway leapt into life
beneath the florescent glare, and Scully found herself glad
to be home.  She slipped out of her black jacket, tossing it
on the couch as she walked through the living room, and she
pulled the holster and gun from its familiar place in the
small of her back.  She toed off her shoes, her feet
tingling in relief, and she laid her weapon carefully on the
side table next to her answering machine.  No messages, she
noted, and she padded into the kitchen, flipping on that
light as well.

She pulled the tail of her shirt out of her skirt as she
opened the refrigerator. It was pretty bare inside and she
grimaced.  She had forgotten to go to the store.  Damn!  Her
head these days never quite seemed to be screwed on right.
Her thoughts were so full of Mulder....

'Mulder,' her mind whispered.  'You're in Mulder's apartment,
remember?  This is a dream, Dana.  This is a dream, and you
are in control.'

Scully frowned, hearing the message her mind was playing.
'This is a dream.  I am in control.  I can make anything
happen that I want to.'

Scully stared into the refrigerator, wishing for some orange
juice...and just like that, an orange carton materialized on
the top shelf.  She gasped and laughed, delighted, and
reached to take the juice.  She picked it up and shook it,
just to make sure it was really there.

Still smiling, she slammed the door and took the juice to
the counter.  She poured herself a glass and drank it,
noticing the vivid taste as it slid down her throat and
lingered on her tongue.  'This is pretty neat,' she thought,
setting down the empty glass and looking out into her living
room.

'Anything I want, right?' She walked up next to the couch,
running her hand lightly over the fabric.  She could feel it
so clearly under her fingers.  'I am in control.  This is my
dream.'  Scully glanced to her right, at the fireplace, and
the logs burst into immediate flame, crackling and snapping
as if they had been burning all night.

'Vivaldi.  The Four Seasons.'  The music began behind her,
coming from the stereo next to the kitchen entrance.  She
smiled, her eyes fluttering contentedly.  'Pink satin
nightshirt.'  Her clothes changed immediately, and the
smoothness of the fabric felt wonderful next to her skin.

And the next thought came into her mind so clearly, she
barely had time to realize that it was there.  'Mulder, come
home to me.'

The key rattled in the door as she turned her head to the
left, and suddenly, he was there.  He swung the door shut
behind him, smiling at her, dressed in one of those damn
gray t-shirts and a pair of jeans, his black leather jacket
tucked into the crook of his arm.  She couldn't see his
other arm, and as he came toward her, he pulled it from
behind him, a bouquet of red roses in his hand.  And then
she heard his voice, plain and clear and low: "Scully."

The tears were pouring down her face, and she didn't want to
cry in front of him, not like this, but she couldn't seem to
stop.  She launched herself into him, grabbing desperately
for him, her arms encircling his waist and squeezing him
fiercely to her smaller body.  She buried her face in his
chest, her senses overwhelmed by him: his voice, the
strength of his back under her hands, the faint smell of
leather and aftershave on his skin.  And she could feel the
cotton under her cheek growing wet with her tears, her tears
of relief and joy and love.

Mulder was laughing, a confused but happy sound, and he
brought his arms around her as best he could with his hands
full.  "Hey, Scully...Scully, what's wrong?"

She was laughing now, too, her happiness bubbling out of her
like champagne uncorked.  She pulled back from him a little
so that she could look up at him.  He was still smiling, his
eyes shining down at her, the crinkles around them making
him more handsome than she could remember.  She put her
hands on both sides of his face, a familiar gesture for her,
and she could feel the smoothness under them, as if he had
just shaved, just for her.  "Nothing is wrong," she
whispered.  "I'm just happy to see you."

"I guess I should bring you roses more often."  He broke
from their embrace, throwing his jacket onto the sofa and
turning to go into the kitchen.  When he came out, the
flowers were in the blue tinted vase Scully liked so much,
and he set them in the center of the dining table.

'This is so perfect,' Scully thought.  'I do love him.  I
didn't realize how much until he was gone.'  She wiped the
remaining tears from her cheeks, hoping that her face glowed
with what she was feeling.  As she brought her hands away
from her face, she caught a glint of metal out of the corner
of her eye.  She glanced down, extending the fingers of her
left hand in front of her.  The wedding band glowed gold in
the firelight, and the solitaire diamond on the engagement
ring winked in compliment.  She turned and looked at Mulder,
his hand still on the vase, positioning it, and his wedding
ring contrasted brightly against the darkness of the glass
beneath it.

'That's right,' she thought to herself.  'This is what I want.
A home, a husband, a family.  Not just any husband, though.
I want the man I love, the father of my child.'

Mulder crossed to her, his hands out in front of him. He
touched her stomach, his fingers lightly tracing the slight
curve there through the satin of her nightshirt, and she
felt a liquid rush go through her.  Then he bent down,
bringing the side of his face next to her belly, and brushed
his cheek against her.  "Hello, baby," he said softly, his
voice tender.  "Daddy's home."

Scully threaded her fingers into the layers of his hair,
willing herself not to cry.  She was incredibly happy...she
hadn't been this happy in a long time.

Mulder moved to look up at her.  She felt his hands under
the nightshirt, brushing over the satin of her panties,
caressing the skin of her hips, leaving a tingling trail
behind his fingers.  His face was serious now, the look in
his eyes unmistakable.  His voice sounded throaty with his
own emotion when he spoke.  "Love you, Scully."

She brought the outside of her fingers down across both
sides of his face, admiring the softness there.  "I love
you, too," she managed to say.  And then she was kissing
him, suddenly hungry for him, wanting nothing more than to
be with him in the most intimate way possible, to feel him
inside of her as they both rode the waves of emotion into an
ultimate and astounding climax.  It had been that way the
first time they were together, she remembered.  She wanted
that again with Mulder so badly she ached.

He pulled himself up to stand, still kissing her as she
tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans.  She
felt his lips curve into a smile under hers, but she didn't
move her mouth from his.  He pulled back slightly, his
breath heavy.  "Hey, Scully, slow down," he whispered.
"We've got all night."

She yanked his shirt up over his head in one fluid motion
and let it drop to the floor.  "No we don't, Mulder."  Her
tone was stern, but a smile played on her face, too.
"C'mon, try to keep up."

"Whatever you say, Scully.  You're the boss."  'That's right,'
her inner voice reminded her.  'You're in control.  But the
one thing you can't control is how much time you have.  So
make it good, but make it fast.'

She stepped back and grabbed Mulder by the front of his
jeans, pulling him over toward the couch.  He laughed as she
pushed him down into a sitting position, but his face froze
into a silent grin as she moved in front of him and traced
her tongue down his chest.  As she placed wet kisses all
along his torso, she made short work of his shoes and socks,
bringing her hands back up to the top of his pants.  She
glanced up at him, satisfied to see that his head was tilted
back against the couch, his eyes closed in obvious pleasure.
She eased his jeans and shorts off of him with a little help
from him, and she stood so that he could watch her.  He
opened his eyes as she unbuttoned the nightshirt, letting it
slide gracefully off her shoulders and down her arms into a
pool at her feet.  She stepped lightly out of her panties,
enjoying the way Mulder watched her, his eyes dark with his
own need.

Scully licked her dry lips and crawled into his lap, facing
him, her hands on his shoulders.  She kissed him again, long
and deep, as she lowered herself onto him.  They both gasped
as he entered her, and Scully threw her head back, the
hotness moving up through her center.  Mulder's mouth was on
her breast, licking, his tongue making heavy circles around
her nipple.  She felt his hands tighten around her hips,
urging her to move.  She did, slowly, pushing herself up
with her knees and sliding back down, feeling herself grow
slick.  She bent her head next to his, running her tongue
around his ear and down his neck.

His breath was hot against the skin of her chest.  "Scully,"
he panted.  "Scully, I can't...you better slow down..."

"Almost there, Mulder," she heard herself say.  She could
feel the rhythm building in her, and she gripped his
shoulders harder, moving faster, her face buried in the
softness of his hair.  And then it exploded inside her, the
two of them together, and Mulder's strong arms held her
there around the waist as wave after wave rocked through
her.  She bit her lip, but not before she cried out, and she
collapsed against him, her forehead pressed against his.

Slowly, their breathing returned to normal, and Scully
opened her eyes.  He was looking up at her already, his eyes
registering nothing short of awe.  He lifted his hands to
her face and brushed the hair away from her cheeks.  "You
are so beautiful, Scully," he whispered.  "That was
incredible."

She moved so that she was sitting across his lap, and she
wrapped her arms up around his neck as she laid her head on
his shoulder.  She felt close to tears again.  She was so
emotional lately...she kept telling herself it was her
hormones, and, as a doctor, she knew that to be partially
true.  Pregnant woman were like emotional volcanoes.  But
this, this was a mixture of elation and sadness and beauty
and the ultimate realization...

'This is just a dream, Dana.  And you have to go back.'

Scully squeezed her arms tighter around Mulder's neck and
raised her eyes.  His head was bent forward towards her, and
his eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep.  He
looked so peaceful, so serene...she didn't know if she had
ever seen Mulder look like this before, even when he slept.
He always had an edge about him, a rawness that could jump
out at any moment, sometimes with no warning at all.  But
now, like this, here with her...he was complete, too.  He had
told her once, in the hallway of his apartment building,
that she completed him.  Scully knew now that they completed
each other.

'His apartment.  That's where I am.  And I have to go back.'

She could feel an unexplainable pull, and she knew that
Veronica Chandler was back there, somewhere, calling her
name.  'Dana.  Dana, come back.'

"Mulder."  He opened his eyes.  They glowed green in the
firelight, and she could see his own sadness.  Somehow, he
sensed it, too, even in this dream of hers.  "Mulder, I have
to go now."

"I know."  His voice broke.  "I have to go too, don't I?"

She raised her eyebrow, trying to stay in control.  "Yes, I
guess you do.  But I will see you soon.  I will find you.  I
promise.  I won't leave you there alone."

He touched her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.  "I'll
be waiting."

'Dana...Dana, it's time to come back...'

Scully closed her eyes...

*     *     *

Veronica watched as Scully's eyes fluttered and finally
stayed open.  They focused, seeing the familiar features of
Fox's apartment, and the agent struggled to sit up on the
couch.  Veronica could also see that Scully's face
glistened, and she knew that she had been crying in her
sleep.  But Scully didn't look upset...it must have been a
good dream.  Veronica smiled, not wanting to pry...but Scully
did look relaxed.

'I gotta try to have dreams like that,' Veronica thought
wryly.

'All in good time,' said the voice.  'You're working.'

Veronica chuckled lightly and rubbed her eyes.  Her own
dream had been fairly uneventful, but she had been easily
able to manipulate everything that she wanted.  She was
certain now that she could do this.

"How'd it go, Dana?"

Scully swung her legs to the floor and massaged her face in
her hands.  "Um, fine."

"Were you able to control what went on in the dream?"

Scully took a deep breath.  "Um, yeah, I would say that."
She wasn't looking at Veronica.  "It was pretty easy,
actually."

"Great.  Then you're ready."

"How long was I asleep?"  Scully glanced at her wrist, but
she had removed her watch when she changed her clothes.  It
was lying on Mulder's dresser in his bedroom, she
remembered.

"A little over an hour.  We have to remember that most
dreams only last about fifteen minutes.  So once we're in
the dream, we have to be quick.  We won't have that much
time to find Fox."

Scully stood up and stretched a little, rolling her head
back.  She put her small hands on her hips and faced
Veronica.  "I guess I am still having a hard time with
this," she finally said after a moment of hesitation.  "How
is this all really possible?  I mean, if this is really just
a dream, how are we actually going to be able to find
Mulder?  Are these things in the dream really happening to
him? How do we know for sure?"  She grinned slightly at
Veronica, just as she had earlier in her office.  "I must be
driving you crazy.  I am just very skeptical by nature."

Veronica spread her hands out in front of her.  "I honestly
don't know how to answer all the questions, Dana. The best
that I can reason out is that Fox is somehow reaching out to
us, subconsciously or otherwise, and the only way we have
been able to receive that information is through our dreams.
I don't know how aware he is or how aware he will be in the
dream, but if we can direct it, then hopefully, you will be
able to get your message through to him.  And I will be able
to find a clue as to where he is so that we can locate him."

"So that's the plan?  I should try to talk to him, and you
are going to try to figure out where he is?"

"Maybe he knows where he is.  You might get to ask him.
Otherwise, I think you should concentrate on his emotional
state and let me investigate.  I know that's usually your
role, but you've got bigger fish to fry."  Veronica stood,
too, and pulled her shoulders down away from her ears.
"God, that chair is uncomfortable.  Are you still feeling
sleepy?"

Scully shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  I think I could fall back
to sleep, though."

"Well, I think we should get started, then.  I want to try
to get to him before he is surrounded by people.  If they
really are...experimenting on him, then it would probably be
better if we get in there before they start in on him
again."  She shuddered involuntarily.  It must have been
horrible for Fox, and she felt a cold stab of pain in her
stomach.  And then she thought of Scully, and how hard it
must have been for her.  This tiny woman that looked so
frail, who was obviously so strong and independent.  Her
partner had been taken from her, someone that she had worked
with for seven years, a man Veronica knew she had come to
trust and depend on more than anyone else in her life.  A
sudden flash went through her mind, an image of Fox carrying
Scully over his shoulder like a sack of cement.  She was
wearing a parka, and Veronica could see Fox's breath hanging
before him in the cold winter air as he made his way through
a dark tunnel.  His eyes were wide with grim determination
and unmistakable fear.  He had saved her life, Veronica
realized, and she understood that Scully was thinking about
this, too.  She reached over and touched Scully on the arm,
and Scully turned her blue eyes to her.  "It's your turn to
save him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  "You
can do this."

Scully let out a huff of breath and swallowed hard.  "I can
do this," she repeated, and Veronica wasn't sure if she
meant to convince Veronica or herself.  "Let's go."

*   *   *

End Part 4/6
 

--

TITLE:   In Dreams (5/6)
AUTHOR:   Avalon
 

'Find him, Dana.  Find Mulder.'

Scully had listened once more to Veronica Chandler's
soothing voice, moving on the waves of sound deeper and
deeper into sleep.  Behind her head, the water in Mulder's
aquarium had bubbled, soothing her nervousness and her fear.
She was afraid.  She didn't like to admit it, but it was
true.  Her logical mind kept kicking in, telling her she was
being foolish, silly to believe that this plan could
actually work, that these two women could actually find a
man who had been missing for eight weeks without a clue as
to his whereabouts by running around in a dream.  Beyond
that, she was afraid she was going to blow this, the only
chance she had had to find Mulder.  And she needed to find
him.  For her own selfish reasons, and because what Veronica
had said about his health scared her, too.  He had been
through so much physically in the last year...he wasn't a weak
man, she knew, but he was thirty-nine years old.  They had
both begun to feel the aches and pains of their exhausting
work more and more, not to mention all the injuries their
bodies had endured.  But the thing that scared her even more
was what Veronica had said about his spirit...that he was
close to giving up.  She couldn't let him do that.  Not when
she might be able to save him.

And suddenly, the light hit her eyes, and she knew she was
there.  Scully brought her hands up to shield her face,
squinting into the brilliance.  'I can see,' she told herself
firmly.  Just like that, the light faded into a normal tone,
and Scully looked around.

She had never been able to see the size of the room before,
and now she understood why she had always become so
frustrated in the dreams.  She was standing in what looked
to be a completely empty hospital room, no bigger than some
prison cells she had visited in her work.  It was stripped
of furnishings and equipment, and the door out was tucked
into a tiny alcove.  There were no other doors or windows,
and no bathroom that Scully could see.  It was frighteningly
sterile in its appearance, and Scully wondered where in the
hell she actually was.

She moved toward the door, aware of the quiet all around
her.  She was thankful not to hear Mulder screaming.. she
had been afraid she might hear that again.  Instead, there
was nothing.  But she wasn't sure if she liked that, either.

Scully pulled the door open a crack and peeked out.
Directly across from the threshold where she stood, she
spotted a nurses' station.  The desk was large and built in
a semicircle, but there were no attending RN's standing
around like there were in a normal hospital.  She glanced
down the hallway to her right and left, still seeing no one.
'That doesn't necessarily mean there isn't anyone here,' she
reasoned.

Thinking hard, Scully returned her gaze to the nurses' desk.
Behind it, she spied a plate glass window. She could barely
see little dots of color in the dark of the room behind the
glass.

'Monitors,' her doctor's mind told her.  And then another
voice, one very unlike her own: 'He's in there.'

Scully sucked in a breath as the thought registered in her
mind.  'He's in there.'  Her first impulse was to dash across
the hallway, but she squelched it.  'You've got to be
careful.  Someone might see you.'  She wondered briefly whose
voice this was in her mind...Veronica's?  And where was
Veronica, anyway?  Shouldn't she be here?  And should she
wait for her?

'No,' Scully thought, determined.  'She said we didn't have
much time once we were here.  I've got to get over there to
him.'  So, feeling like a superhero on a Saturday morning
cartoon, Scully closed her eyes and thought, 'I am invisible
to everyone except Mulder.  He is the only one who can see
and hear me.'

She opened her eyes, not feeling any different.  She pulled
open the door a little more, still hesitating.  And Mulder's
voice filled her mind, at once putting her at ease and
making her smile: 'C'mon, Scully.  Get those little legs
moving.'

Scully stepped out into the hallway and slipped across to
the nurses' station, walking quickly.  But she froze behind
the desk, movement catching the corner of her eye.  She
turned her head in that direction, just in time to see three
figures walking toward her from the left hallway.  The two
men on either side were dressed in fatigues, and they walked
a half step behind the woman in the middle.  She was dressed
smartly in a striking red business suit, her blond hair
pulled away from her thin face, and Scully's jaw set as
recognition crept into her mind.

'Marita Covarrubias.'

She looked the same as she had the night Scully had last
seen Mulder, the night they had all stood around the table
in Skinner's office in D.C., this woman and Alex Krycek
trying to convince them that they had to find that infernal
spaceship.  Alex Krycek, a man whom she had never trusted,
who had somehow convinced Mulder that this thing in Oregon
was worth finding...was this his plan with Marita all along?
To get rid of Mulder once and for all?

The threesome passed by her without a glance, and Scully
sighed in relief.  They disappeared down the corridor, and
Scully turned to open the door to the room behind the desk.

*     *     *

Veronica Chandler couldn't fall asleep.

She had watched Scully drift off easily, once again
stretched out on Fox's couch, and this time, Veronica had
covered her lightly with a blanket she found nearby.  She
wanted to make sure Dana stayed asleep.  But she had sat
back down in the armchair nearly twelve minutes ago, going
through her own relaxation routine to bring her to rest, and
she was still awake.

'Calm down, Ronni,' she told herself.  'If you get all jazzed
up about it, you'll never get to sleep.  Everything's fine.
Just relax.'

So she sat there with her eyes closed, breathing deeply,
repeating the mantra over and over again.

The minutes ticked by.

And the voice inside her head was silent.

*     *     *

Fox Mulder was dreaming.

The light from the spaceship above his head was brilliant, a
blinding silver and white that blotted out everything else
around him.  He wanted to go...the pull to go with them, the
other people in the light, was strong and urgent.  But he
dropped his chin, seeing someone coming toward him, someone
who had almost reached the light.  A hand cut through the
barrier, extended to him, and, without hesitating, he took
it.  It was warm and soft and small, a hand that he
recognized just by the feel.  He had held it many times, and
it felt wonderful to hold it again.

She pulled him out of the light, and he realized suddenly
that he was home, on the Vineyard.  He was standing in front
of Drew Chandler's house, the one with the long porch that
his parents had bought after their first home had burned to
the ground.  Twilight fell around him, and the lights inside
the house glowed invitingly.

He pulled at the tightness around his neck, surprised to
feel the satin of a bow tie under his chin.  He recognized
the tuxedo he was wearing...it had belonged to his father, and
Mulder had borrowed it once to take Drew's sister Ronni to
her senior prom.  She had been such a sweet kid, quiet and
shy and extraordinarily pretty, but Mulder had never thought
of her in any other way than as his own little sister.  His
own sister that he missed so much...he sighed.  That ache
never seemed to go away, even when he knew now that Samantha
was not coming home.

But he realized that he was still standing with the woman
who had pulled him from the light, and he heard the soft
rustle of a dress next to him.  In the fading light, her
hair glowed crimson, and he could see the glint of gold that
shimmered around her bare neck.  She wore Ronni's dress, the
skirt seeming to engulf her small legs, and he wondered
aimlessly how high her heels were under all those layers.
She nearly reached his shoulder tonight, a rare occurrence,
and when she leaned into him, he could smell the light
freshness of her skin, and he shivered in appreciation.  She
laid her hand on his shoulder and brought her lips close to
his ear.

"Mulder, it's me."

*     *     *

Scully watched as his eyes fluttered.  She had bent her head
next to his, this position so familiar to her, reminding her
of the day, a year before, when she had found him in another
sterile room, his head bandaged and bleeding and her tears
falling on his face.  She wasn't crying now.  She knew she
didn't have time.  Some force was urging her forward,
willing her to go quickly, to wake him and talk to him and
convince him somehow that she was coming...because something
somehow felt wrong.  It had something to do with Veronica,
and Scully thought fleetingly of trying to find her.  But
Mulder was here, and she wasn't going to leave him now.

"Mulder, it's me," she whispered again, and this time his
eyes opened and focused on her.  It hadn't taken him that
much effort, she was relieved to see, and other than looking
worn out, her cursory visual exam seemed to indicate he was
more or less OK.   The monitors showed a steady heart
rhythm; nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

She smiled at him, unable to stop from reaching out to touch
his face.  As her fingers brushed the angle of his cheek,
she felt an unbelievable flutter in her abdomen.  It wasn't
anything she had ever felt before...it was small, like the
rustling of autumn leaves blowing gently across a sidewalk.
It was movement.

She gasped and laughed, and Mulder looked at her, his own
face breaking into a slow, puzzled smile.  He couldn't have
felt it, and he didn't know yet.  But she didn't have time
to tell him now...'after all, this was just a dream
anyway...right?'

"Scully, you came."  His voice was raspy and ragged, and
Scully realized that the screaming had been real.

"Mulder, listen to me.  I don't have much time."  She
grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his,
relishing the feeling.  But he didn't grab back as tightly
as she had expected, and she understood that Veronica had
been right...he was weak.  "We are coming to get you, Mulder.
This is just a dream, but we will be here soon.  Do you
understand?  You have to hold on for just a little while
longer."

He sighed, and his breath rattled in his chest.  "It's been
so hard, Scully."

"I know."  She brought his hand up to her mouth and rubbed
her lips across his knuckles.  "But you can't give up.  We
are so close.  Can you tell me where we are right now?"

He moved his head back and forth on the pillow.  His eyes
were starting to shut again, and his hand loosened in hers.
Scully sat on the edge of the bed and laid her head on his
chest, his heartbeat thudding softly in her ear.  "Mulder,
hold on," she said firmly.  "Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, Scully." His voice was a whisper above her
head.  "Make it fast."

'I am in control,' Scully thought vehemently.  'He is alive.
He will still be alive when I find him.'
 

*     *     *

Veronica was almost in panic mode.  Three-quarters of an
hour had passed, and she was pacing the floor in Fox's short
foyer.  She had found it impossible to get back to sleep,
and all she could do was watch Scully's eyes dart back and
forth in her own dream and pray that she had found him
without her.

Anger raced through her mind.  'Why in the hell did you put
me through all this if I couldn't even help her?  I left her
in there all by herself!'

'She doesn't need you in there,' the voice finally told her.
Veronica's eyes widened, surprised.  She had been raging at
herself, and the voice, for at least twenty minutes, and
this was the first response she had gotten.  'You will help
her more by being where you are now.'

Veronica stopped pacing, considering.  'How can I help her
out here?'

There was a slight pause.  'You're about to find out.'

A vision burst into her mind, and Veronica shook with the
impact.  She watched as the doors to the elevator in Fox's
apartment building slid open, and a man dressed all in black
emerged.  He was tall, with short dark hair, and he walked
quickly, with a purpose, a grim expression on his face.  His
eyes were dark and narrowed, and she could feel the energy
around him.  It was thick and murky...this man had been
through terrible things that Veronica couldn't even imagine,
and he had become the sum total of them all.  He held his
left arm stiffly, as if he couldn't move it, and she noticed
there was no aura there...

He was approaching Fox's apartment, and Veronica opened her
eyes, still reeling from the explosion of sight in her head.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision, and she could see
the shadow under the doorway outside.  Her thoughts jumped
to Scully, asleep on the couch...'damn it!  If he wakes her up
now, he could ruin everything!'  Veronica put her shaking
hand out to open the door, and at the same instant, it flew
open, and the man from her vision shoved her back, pushing
her up against the wall next to the coat tree and putting
his right hand over her mouth.

Veronica was startled, but she didn't scream.  She could see
Scully out of the corner of her eye, and she hadn't even
stirred on the couch.  She was deeply asleep...'good,' Veronica
thought,'because apparently I am going to have to deal with
this mess.'

She looked into this man's blazing eyes, reading what was
going through his head.  His thoughts were such a jumbled
mess that it was nearly impossible to pick out any threads
of meaning, but she found a few:  'The Project.'  'Agent
Scully.'  'Marita.'  And one that scared her:  'Kill her.'

"Where's Agent Scully?" he growled at her.  He moved his
hand slightly so that she could speak, but he brought his
other arm up next to her throat and pushed.  Veronica could
feel the pressure, and she realized this arm was prosthetic.
If he pushed hard enough, he could easily choke her.

"She's asleep."  Veronica kept her voice as steady as
possible.  This man was incredibly volatile, she could tell.
She didn't want to set him off.

"I have a message for her."  With his good hand, he pulled a
slip of white paper from the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Fox's location."  She said it like a statement, not a
question, and it gave her a moment of satisfaction to see
the puzzled look that momentarily crossed his face.

He smiled, but there was venom in his voice.  "That's right.
But he'll be dead by the time she finds him."

"No he won't," Veronica answered.  "You can't kill him."

"And why is that?"

Veronica realized that she was speaking, but the words that
came forth were not her own.  She was allowing someone to
speak through her, so she relaxed and let it flow.  There
was no use in getting in the way, especially if this could
help Fox.  "Because, Mr. Krycek, he is more useful to you
alive than dead.  Don't you realize that yet?"

Krycek once again looked shocked, but his face moved easily
back into anger.  "He isn't any use to us at all.  He isn't
what we thought he was."

"Then why kill him?  Let him go."

He thrust up into her chin violently, and Veronica gasped.
"I don't think you are in any position to negotiate with
me."

"If he isn't what you thought he was, I know someone who is
what you are looking for."  She was breathing heavily.  "I
suggest a trade.  Fox's life for someone who can help you."

He paused, his eyes considering her.  "Who?"

"Me."

Krycek laughed, a nasty sound low in the back of his throat.
"You?"  Veronica nodded.  "I know who you are.  You are
someone that Mulder grew up with, and supposedly a
clairvoyant.  But we don't have time to waste on people who
think they are psychic.  This is too important."

The voice that came from Veronica was commanding, and there
was no hesitation at all.  "I am the real deal, Mr. Krycek.
You have nothing right now.  I am offering you a chance to
have what you need.  In exchange for Agent Mulder's life."
She changed her tact slightly, somehow knowing this would
appeal to him.  "You are a man who serves his own purposes.
There are people in your...organization...who do not like you,
who want you out."  The muscle in Krycek's jaw jumped.  "I
am giving you an opportunity to get back in their good
graces.  You won't be sorry."

He stood there, watching her, and she could sense the
thoughts spinning in his head.  She smiled a moment.  "And I
don't suggest that you try to con me, Mr. Krycek, because I
will know."

The pressure on her throat eased slightly.  He brought his
face close to hers, as if he were about to kiss her.  "I
could kill you now," he whispered.  "You and Scully both."

"But then you'd never know if I was telling the truth, would
you?"  Veronica was still smiling.  "Call her.  Call Marita
and tell her to let him live.  Scully will find him in the
morning, and you will have what you need."

Krycek stepped back from her.  He pulled a cellular phone
from his waist and pushed a button.  As he waited for the
line to connect, he grinned at her.  "I hope you know what
you're doing.  Because if you don't, you're gonna wish I had
killed you here."

Veronica watched him, listening in her mind to the other end
of his brief conversation, her back still against the wall.
She was not afraid, although her logical mind was screaming
at her to stop this, to stop Krycek.  She had just made the
proverbial deal with the devil, and with her clairvoyance,
she had an idea of what awaited her.  But in her heart,
there simply was no choice.  She needed to save Fox, as he
had saved her so many years ago.  The boy who had teased her
and bought her ice cream, the young man who had danced with
her and told her that she was worthy, this person who had
believed in her when no one else would even look at her.
She owed him so much, and what was that old saying?
'Paybacks were hell.'  She smiled a little, content.  Her life
had not been much more than helping the police chase
murderers and rapists.  His life had love, and the promise
of new life, waiting quietly in the next room, and she
sensed a bigger purpose behind everything Fox did.  She
could help him fulfill it.  She wanted to.

And so when Krycek clipped the cell phone back onto the
waistband of his pants and reached for her, she went with
him willingly, closing the door to Fox's apartment
soundlessly behind them.

*     *     *

End Part 5/6
--

TITLE:   In Dreams (6/6)
AUTHOR:   Avalon
 

Scully drummed her fingers impatiently on her knee, gazing
indifferently out the window of the rental car as the flat
farmlands of Ohio sped past.  She hadn't even changed her
clothes, and she was sure she looked, as her mother would
say, like something the cat dragged in.  But she hadn't been
concerned about her appearance when she had awakened alone
on Mulder's couch.  She had sat up, almost instantly alert,
pushing off the heavy Navaho blanket over her, catching
sight of a slip of white paper that fell to the floor as she
did.  She reached down for it, her mind full of everything
that had happened in her dream, wondering at the same time
where Veronica Chandler was.  The chair across from the sofa
was empty, but Veronica's suit jacket and purse were still
where she had left them many hours before.  She unfolded the
note and read the letters that were written there in an
unfamiliar hand:

WPAFB

Her mind had kicked into gear, trying to make sense of it.
AFB.  Air Force Base.  That was easy for her, the child of a
military family.  Now all she needed was the directory of
bases across the nation, and she would have it...

'Have what?'  Her mind asked.  'What is this exactly?  And who
left it here?'

That new voice was in her head again, soft and relaxed.
'That's where you'll find him.  You will find him today.'

Scully had jumped up, rushing to Mulder's desk, flipping the
toggle switch on the computer at the same time she reached
for his telephone.  She found the number she was looking for
on his list of presets and punched the button.  As she
listened to the line ringing, she spotted the small clock on
the desk.

3:15.

She heard the line picked up after the fifth ring, and a
gruff voice, full of sleep and annoyance, filled her ear.
"Yeah.  Skinner."

"Sir, it's Agent Scully.  I'm sorry to disturb you at this
hour."

He cleared his throat, and she could tell he was awake at
once.  "What is it, Agent Scully?  Has something happened?"

Scully had propped the telephone between her shoulder and
ear, punching in access to the FBI files on Mulder's
computer.  "Yes, sir.  Just as soon as I can get into the
Bureau files here, I think I am going to have Agent Mulder's
whereabouts."

"What?  How did--?"

She cut him off.  "I can't explain it right now, sir.  But
he is at a military base, an Air Force base."  She had
scanned down the list, which was in alphabetical order,
looking for the initials W.P.  She touched the screen when
she came to it.  "Wright Patterson Air Force Base.  It's in
Fairborn, Ohio.  That's near Dayton, I believe."  She
dropped the phone from her shoulder into her hand.  "Sir, we
need to get there right now."

"Agent Scully, are you sure about this?"

She had gripped the receiver harder, sure her knuckles were
turning white.  "I am absolutely sure, sir.  We need to get
there immediately."

Skinner had sighed, but he answered, "All right, Agent.  I
will call in two reservations for the next flight out from
D.C.  Give me half an hour."

"I'll come to pick you up."  She had hung up before he could
change his mind, and she had grabbed her keys and left.

Now, as the car raced from the airport near Dayton, Ohio
toward the base, Scully considered everything that had
happened in the course of the last day.  She hadn't told
Skinner much of anything, and, although he had looked fairly
perturbed at her lack of disclosure, he hadn't pressed her.
After all the years she had worked for him, he had grown to
respect and trust her work.  This was no exception, but she
couldn't help thinking that his opinion may have been
different if he had known the strange origin of her
information.

And she still didn't know who had actually written the note.
Veronica had disappeared, and Scully felt uneasy about that.
She couldn't be sure, but she had the distinct feeling that
Veronica had not left the apartment completely of her own
volition.  Of course, Scully truly had no idea; she had been
asleep and had heard nothing.  But the thought kept creeping
into Scully's brain like a venomous snake inching forward
for the kill.  If that were true, and Veronica had left with
someone, who was it?

But there was another part of her mind that simply didn't
care at this point.  She would worry about Veronica Chandler
after she had found Mulder.  Right now, that was all she
could think about, and her body hummed with her growing
anxiety.

Skinner followed the signs along the highway indicating
directions to Wright Patterson Air Force Base.  As the gates
for the base's main entrance came into view, Skinner broke
the silence.  "Where are we going once we're inside?"

For a moment, Scully was dumbfounded.  She hadn't even
thought about where they might be holding Mulder.  But in
the dream, it had been in a hospital, or something like one...

"Go to the base hospital."  Her voice sounded different to
her, and she instantly knew that it was the right place.
"That's where he is."

Skinner glanced at her, but he didn't say anything.  He
rolled his window down, flipped his badge at the base guard,
and politely asked for directions to the hospital.

Scully was out of the car before it had completely stopped,
jogging up to the electronic doors of the admissions area.
She could hear Skinner