Primal Sympathy
Chapter Twelve

HOPE BASE
ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA
MAY 14, 1997
5:47 AM
    
    Scully straddled him, her hair a fiery halo around her pale face. Her skin
glowed like alabaster in the dim light of the room. Her eyes were the blue
of a cloudless sky, achingly beautiful in their clarity. She was gloriously
naked, as was he, and she moved over him with splendid grace. Her small
fingers clutched at his chest and he could feel the heat of her core as she
hovered above him.
    "Please," he begged her. "Take me in. Shelter me. Accept me."
    She bent low and pressed her mouth to his. Her small tongue darted against
his lips and he parted them for her. She flicked her tongue against his and
began to trace the shape of his mouth. Her small fingers dug deeper into his
chest. He winced and drew a breath through clenched teeth, accepting the
pain as he always had. It was the price he willingly paid in order to feel
alive.
    "Do you love me?" she whispered against him.
    "My life for you," he answered. What more was there to say?
    She caught his lower lip between sharp teeth and nipped lightly. He thrust
his hips up in a vain effort to meet her, craving the warmth of her womb.
She pulled away slowly, tugging at his lip, teeth holding fast.
He felt the sudden, shocking sensation as she bit down hard and broke the
skin. He jerked away and stared up at her, wide-eyed and confused. He could
taste the warm copper tang of blood on his tongue.
    And then she smiled down at him. A cold, self-satisfied smile. It stretched
until it became a grimace, her face a chilling portrait of malevolence.
    "That's not enough," Scully pronounced, and slammed her fist into his
chest. It tore through muscle and bone and reemerged dripping blood and
holding his still beating heart.
    Mulder jerked awake and sat up straight in the bed, sweat pouring from his
body. His heart was pounding, his lungs empty and struggling for breath. He
scrubbed his face with his hands and let them drop in his lap as he pulled
himself the rest of the way out of his brand new nightmare.
    "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. "What the fuck was that?"
    Mulder knew where he was, but that was about it. Until recent memories,
both physical and olfactory, soon made him look to the other side of the bed
for confirmation.
    Yep. There she was. Special Agent Doctor Dana Katherine Scully. Tucked
under the blankets and sound asleep. Naked, too, if Mulder's memory served.
He carefully lifted the covers to double-check. Right again. While he was
there, he found himself watching for the slow rise and fall of her bare,
lovely chest. Okay, still breathing. Alive and well.
    He continued to tick off points on his mental list. Seemed the low,
pleasant ache in his groin really was more than just a symptom of his
long-standing desire to put to use muscles and organs rarely used. Instead,
it was evidence of the fulfillment of that desire. And then of course there
was the matter of the particular odor that seemed to cling to him and hang
in the air; maybe even emanating from his pores. That was the kicker. The
indisputable truth.
    I love the smell of sex in the morning, he thought foggily, and bit back a
chuckle. He glanced at his watch to confirm the morning part. It was hard to
tell otherwise. They'd fallen asleep with the light on. And with the windows
painted black, it was always nighttime in the office.     Almost six. Right.
We're just batting a thousand this morning, Mulder, my man. Now if he could
just figure out the bizarre nightmare that'd jerked him from sleep.
    C'mon, he chided himself. You're the psychologist. Can't claim ignorance on
this one. No, not yet, he thought. Not lying right here beside her. This is
not the place or the time to think about it.
    He carefully extricated himself from the sheet and blankets and eased his
legs over the side of the bed. He glanced over his shoulder as Scully
changed position, still deeply asleep. Wore her out, a smug little voice
trumpeted in his head. Not bad for a thirty-five year old guy. They'd
engaged in at least three or four rounds of horizontal aerobics throughout
the long night; claiming each time that it would be the last, that sleep
would have to overtake them eventually. And then somehow coming back
together without word or look. Blindly reaching out for the other and
finding warm skin, soft lips, and welcoming hands.
    He stood and padded naked to the bathroom, kicking aside the clothes they'd
hastily shed the night before. He took a healthy, year-long piss and
scrubbed his teeth clean before slipping into running shorts and shoes. He
pulled on a clean t-shirt and stepped back to the bed. Bending low, he
brushed the silky hair away from Scully's face and dropped a kiss on her
mouth. He pulled back a little and watched as his kiss worked its magic. She
made a low sound and her eyelids fluttered.
    "Mmm... Mulder."
    He dipped down and placed his mouth at her ear. "Go back to sleep, Scully,"
he whispered. "I'm going for a run. Keep my side warm for me."
    "Humph," she replied and rolled over, ending up sprawled on her stomach. He
grinned at her and quietly slipped out the door.
    He didn't give his dream any more thought until he'd made his way to the
main section of the gutted factory and had a few miles under his belt. The
sting of sweat seeping into the deep scratches on his back served as a vivid
reminder of Scully's frantic, angry grasping the night before. Her gentle,
kitten-like caresses had quickly turned into the violent clawing of a
tigress. Without warning, but apparently not without reason.
    That she still harbored feelings of anger towards him was a given. He
wasn't foolish enough to think that their lovemaking would make all their
problems disappear, but he had hoped they wouldn't become an added element
of the sex. He should have known better. It was exactly at those moments,
when one was the most vulnerable and out of control, that those less
desirable emotions were likely to come to the forefront.
    At least he'd had enough of a functioning brain left to pull her up short
with his words and his restraining hands. And then to follow that with no
recriminations, unspoken or otherwise. His silence had allowed her to voice
at least some of her fears before she made the choice to come back to him,
to melt into his arms and give herself willingly, without shame or fear.
    Even her little name-calling game, which had led to a rather memorable
round of oral sex, had been borne of her anger. But it had been easy to play
along with her, to admit he deserved some of what she'd dished out. And it
hadn't cost him anything--not really. So in the end, one small glitch was
nothing compared to what they'd gained.
    Still, that didn't explain the strange little scenario his brain had cooked
up and served him as he slept. It wasn't his own dream reactions that
confused him; instead it was the chilling portrait of Scully he'd imagined.
    Mulder had never met anyone as unselfish as her. She gave the phrase "Give
until it hurts," a whole new meaning. So why in her dream persona had she
demanded nothing less than his bloody heart in her fist?
    Get a clue, genius-boy. It's you who owns the fear that you'll never be
able to give her enough, not Scully. You're afraid you'll end up
disappointing her and she'll call you on it, that's all. Call it what it is:
simple terror at being expected to give as much as you take.
    He ran until he figured he'd done a good five miles and then half-ass
jogged his way back up to the office, stopping first at the dorm for a slug
of bottled water. What he saw when he pushed through his door made the whole
morning complete.
    Scully was sitting cross-legged on the rumpled bed, wearing his Knicks
jersey and combing out her freshly washed hair.
    "Hi," he mumbled, suddenly shy.
    "Hi yourself." She practically purred the words as she set her comb down
and looked at him expectantly.
    Oh shit, he thought. I'm in trouble. The only question is whether that's a
good thing or not. He tugged up the front of his t-shirt and mopped his face
with it. "So..." he began, and the question was out of his mouth before he
had a chance to think about it. "Any regrets?"
    Her answer was a sultry look and an "Only that you weren't here when I woke
up."
    Nothing like getting the answer you wanted to put a smile on your face.
"I'm here now," he playfully retorted.
    "So you are." She actually batted her eyes at him--a first for Scully. If
he'd been asked, he would have said she absolutely didn't go for the typical
ploy of using her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. Oh well, wouldn't
be the first time he'd been proven wrong as far as Scully was concerned.
    "Hey, Mulder?"
    "Yeah."
    "I'll give you ten bucks if you can tell me what I'm thinking right now."
She closed her eyes and wrinkled her brow in concentration. Mulder's
scratchy baritone laughter filled the room. Her eyes opened and they traded
sly smiles and knowing looks.
    Mulder broke the contact when he pulled his shirt over his head. "Just
lemme grab a shower first."
    He was toeing off his sneakers when she said, "Uh-uh, Mulder. Now."
    "I really don't think you want me in that bed right now, Scully. I'm kinda
ripe."
    "And I'm kind of naked," she responded as she crossed her arms in front of
her and grabbed the hem of the jersey, yanking it off in one fluid motion.
    Mulder swallowed hard, watching her breasts bob with her movements. "You
win," he conceded. He swiftly peeled off his shorts and dove at the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    He was propped up on an elbow, lazily tracing the circle of her tattoo with
a fingertip when Scully turned her face towards him and announced, "I'm
fairly certain the Crawfords are mine."
    His finger stopped. So did his heart. After a long beat he put the finger
back to work and found his voice, trying to sound casual. "You think?"
    "Well, just look at them, Mulder. Add several pounds and a few inches and
they could be my brother Charlie."
    "Don't know about that. Haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet."
    "Trust me. It's almost scary, they look so much alike."
    "So how do you feel about that, Scully?" He capped off his question with a
kiss that landed within the circle of the orobourus.
    "Playing psychologist again, Mulder?"
    "Yeah. Unless you wanna play innocent co-ed and lusty professor instead."  
    She chuckled softly and turned her face away from him. There was a long
silence before she spoke again. By that time, Mulder had grown tired of his
game and settled down on his back, his head pillowed on his folded arms.
    "It's strange. I look at George, talk to him, and it's almost like a
glimpse into a future that could have been, if things were different." He
caught her heavy sigh and turned his head to look at her. Not much to see
but lots of pale, freckled skin and her crown of red-gold hair.
    She fell silent again and he almost opened his mouth to prod her along.
Just shut up and give her your patience, Mulder. She'll get to the point
soon enough on her own.
    "It makes a twisted sort of sense," she continued, "if you really think
about it. I mean, the fact that they worked so hard to find a cure when they
didn't even know me--not really. It could certainly have been a motivating
factor."
    "Yeah," he agreed. "But what they discovered could save more lives than
just yours, Scully. There're a lot of women out there with the same type of
cancer, from the same source."  
    Scully snorted softly and turned her face to him. "I wonder how readily the
medical community would accept a cure based on the notion of altering genes
with alien DNA."
    He could only blink at her, completely at a loss for words.
    "Yes, Mulder," she confirmed. "George told me about that, too. You didn't
think I'd let them treat me with just the flimsy explanation that they'd
found a way to reinforce P53 using injections of simple fetal tissue, did
you? I know exactly how my ova were genetically altered, and it had very
little to do with your contribution."
    Mulder squirmed uncomfortably and covered his mouth with a hand. He forced
himself to meet her eye as she rolled onto her side and pulled the sheet up
over her.
    "My only real question was whether I might somehow acquire the ability to
breath under water. And I'll admit the thought of becoming strong enough to
kick your ass was an intriguing one, too. I was almost disappointed when
George told me that my body would automatically flush out any alien wastes
remaining after the last treatment. So, no green toxic blood for me. Guess
I'm still 100% human."
    He gazed at her curiously. "Does this mean... I take it this means you
believe?"
    "Faced with what I know, Mulder, I don't see that I have much choice. And
all I really care about right now is that I'm cancer-free. The Crawfords
managed to do something the finest oncologists in the world couldn't. I'm
smart enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth."
    He grinned at her. "Not too closely, anyway."
    "But that doesn't mean I'm going to start buying into every half-ass theory
you present to me. Just remember that."
    "Aye aye, Captain."
    He caught her eye and held it for a second. Lifted his hand to her cheek
and stroked his fingers across the silky surface. He brushed the pad of his
thumb over her full mouth, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to
touch her like this. Scully's eyes slid shut against his tender study of
her. She rolled over again, onto her back.
    She's not done yet, Mulder realized. The bit with the Crawfords was just a
warm-up. He knew what was most likely coming. He hoped he was strong enough
to get through it. All he could give her was all he could give her. It had
to be enough. He couldn't allow himself to think otherwise.
    "There's something I need to know, Mulder."
    "What's that?"
    "When the Crawfords told you what needed to be done and...and how they
intended to accomplish it with the help of your...donation," Scully's hands
were busily twisting together atop the sheet as she pushed the words out one
by one. "Did... Did you stop long enough to think about what it meant?" She
threw him a quick glance before her eyes darted away. "I mean, beyond the
possibility of a cure."
    Mulder focused on the water-stained ceiling. He wondered if this would ever
be easy. If the time would come when he'd think nothing of spilling his guts
at Scully's simple request. It was still so hard to be completely open with
her. To drop his defensive, deadpan facade and let her see what lay within
his heart. Mulder was an expert when it came to repressing his emotions
around others--he'd been doing it most of his life. One might even say he'd
written the book. Empty face, empty eyes, empty voice. Even an empty
heart--until Scully had snuck into it. He'd learned early on it was tough to
judge what couldn't be seen. And it was even harder to acknowledge your
feelings to someone else when you hadn't done it yourself first.
    He began slowly, determined to make the right words without saying too
much. "I made a vow a long time ago that I would never have children. I know
who I am, Scully. And when I look in the mirror I can see what I've become.
My life--" He stopped and uttered a short, bitter laugh. "My life used to be
about the work. And then somewhere along the line it became about you." He
shot her a side-long glance. She had turned her head and was watching him,
her face carefully set in a neutral expression. "That was a hell of a
surprise, let me tell you. Completely unexpected. And absolutely intolerable
for awhile. I didn't want to need anybody, and I sure as hell didn't want to
need you. But what I had before.... It finally dawned on me that it wasn't
enough anymore. And that it was okay for me to want more. I even started to
believe I might actually have something to offer you; that I could give you
all the things you needed and wanted."
    "Some dreams turn into nightmares, Scully." He blinked and felt a single
tear race down from his eye and disappear into the hair at his temple. "The
life that we created.... It was as much a part of me as it was you. And I
knew it. I felt it. Acutely. And I grieve--" His voice cracked and he sucked
in a deep breath. "I grieve for what might have been. But I'd do it again,
y'know," he said as he rolled over to face her. "I'd make the same
decision." He was met with eyes of velvet steel. Moist with tears and
determination.
    "I never had the choice," she murmured.
    "No, you didn't," he agreed. "But neither did I--not really. Scully, the
point is that I can't change what's in the past; I can't even try anymore.
What's done is done."
    "Mulder, I--" Scully lifted her hands and ran them through her hair. She
pushed out a heavy sigh and scrubbed her eyes. "I know it must have been
hard for you to make a decision like that on your own. But the point is, you
didn't have to. No, actually more to the point, you shouldn't have."
    "Scully."
    "No, just hear me out, okay? I don't mean for you to feel guilty about what
you did--"
    He cut her off. "And I don't. That's what I'm trying to tell you. What was
taken from you ultimately saved you. It was more than a fair trade. Wouldn't
you have done the same for me? Scully?"
    It was taking far too long for her to answer. When it finally came, it was
in a tired, sad voice. "Of course I would."
    Mulder frowned at her and sat up, swinging his legs around and showing her
his back. "Why do I get the feeling you're only telling me what I want to hear?"
    "Maybe it's because that's the way your mind works, Mulder." There was a
rising note of irritation in her voice. "You're so used to listening for the
lies that you don't recognize the truth when you hear it."
    He swung his head around and glared at her over his shoulder. "What the
hell is that supposed to mean?"
    Scully pushed herself up, pulling the sheet with her. The thin cotton was
twisted in fists held high against her chest. She could have been a boxer
anxiously awaiting the bell. "What it means is that not everything is going
to be handed to you wrapped up in pretty paper, Mulder. Not the truth, and
certainly not me."
    "No shit, Scully," he shot back. He looked around for his shorts and came
off the bed, grabbing them from the floor and stepping into them. He yanked
them up over his hips and turned back to her. "It's not like I don't know that."
    "Then why can't you understand that I have a right to be pissed off about
what you did? It doesn't mean I don't love you."
    He could feel his contemptuous sneer. "I know that."
    "Do you, Mulder?" she asked forcefully. "Do you really?"
    He scrubbed his mouth and then propped his hands on his hips, scowling at
the floor. He'd barely managed to swallow down an automatic response to her
question. An answer that would have been welcome to both of them at that
point. But nothing would make it the truth.
    His eyes slid level with hers and then skittered away. "No," he quietly
admitted. "I guess I don't."
    "Well, it's true."
    Mulder could feel her eyes on him, begging him to look at her. They were
like magnets. He couldn't resist their pull. Hazel met blue, locked, and
held. "I wanna believe that, Scully. But it's hard sometimes. My father made
all the right noises about how important we were to him, but what he did to
us wasn't about love. It was all about anger and guilt and self-loathing.
You put 'I love you,' in one hand and a leather belt in the other and it's
not surprising which one sticks with you."
    There was a long silence. He watched as Scully gnawed her bottom lip before
bowing her head. When she looked back up at him, her face was grim. "I want
to ask you a question," she announced.
    "Go ahead."
    "Just suppose the tables had been turned, Mulder. What if we'd conceived a
child and I terminated the pregnancy without ever telling you. How would
that make you feel?"
    "It's not the same thing," he argued. "This was a matter of life and--"
    "It *is* the same thing," she insisted. "The only difference is in degree,
not in kind. I'm not saying what you did was wrong. God knows, that would be
a stupid thing to do. My cancer is gone because of the choice you made. But
you took more away from me than you think."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Do you remember what you said to me in the hospital here, right after
Penny Northern died?"
    He shook his head, puzzled. "I said a lot of things, Scully." And didn't
say a lot more, he thought.
    "You told me then that you believed I'd find a way to save myself. Do you
remember that?"
    "Yeah, I remember," he answered haltingly, beginning to catch a glimpse of
where this was leading. Is it possible, he absently wondered, to be a
brilliant bonehead?
    "I didn't believe you, Mulder. I couldn't. I knew I was dying and I had no
reason to think otherwise. I accepted my own death in that hallway. I began
to make peace with it."
    Mulder's mind filled in the blanks in an instant. He knew what she was
going to say next. He would have bet his life on it. He cradled his forehead
in his hand for a long beat before looking back up at her, waiting for the
inevitable.
    "Did you ever stop to consider then what it might have meant if I'd known
what you knew? If you'd told me then what you knew about the Crawfords and
what they were doing, it could have made all the difference in the world to
me. Instead of spending the last several months preparing for my death, I
could have been working with the Crawfords to find the cure. But you took
that away from me, Mulder. You took away my chance to save myself."
    She was right. That was exactly what he'd done. Not consciously of course,
but facts were facts. Still.... "Scully, I explained to you why I hadn't
told you before. I didn't want to get your hopes up."
    "Some hope is better than none at all," she retorted.
    And I'm fighting a losing battle, he thought to himself. Just give it up,
Mulder. She's got you nailed. "Okay," he declared. "You're right. I fucked
up. But what do you expect me to do about it now?"
    "I don't *expect* you to do anything about it, Mulder. Like you said,
what's done is done. And I guess all I want right now is your promise that
you won't do anything like that to me again."
    There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Pride and pig-headedness wouldn't
let him open his mouth and tell her what she wanted to hear.
    Scully made a low sound of frustration and glared at him. "Look, Mulder,"
she said. "We've managed to come so far in just the last day. What happened
here last night and again this morning is going to change everything between
us. It has to. And I know that you have your secrets, just like I have mine.
But you can't keep cutting me out of the picture. You can't continue to
protect me just for the sake of your own peace of mind."
    He barked a wry laugh. "You don't have a hell of a lot of room to be
talking, Scully. Do the words 'I'm fine,' mean anything to you?" She glanced
aside and he inwardly congratulated himself. Bulls-eye. He had her dead to
rights.
    She slowly began to nod and raised her eyes to his. "Okay, Mulder, I'll
give you that one. I'm just as guilty as you are in some respects. But
things are going to have to change. If we have any hopes of making this
work, we have to change some of the ways we deal with one another."
    He smirked and quipped, "I thought we did a pretty good job of that last
night." He was rewarded with a caustic look that otherwise would have made
him cringe. But this time her pissy expression was being used to cover up
the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.
    "Okay, okay," he chuckled as he raised his hands in a gesture of
acquiescence. "You got yourself a deal, Scully. So... Do we shake on it or
have you got a better idea?"
    "Well, from the look on your face, Mulder, I'd say you do."
    They traded smug grins.
    Mulder finally shrugged and made a contrite face. "What can I say? I like
making up for lost time."
    "Me, too," Scully shyly admitted. "So does this mean we're in the infamous
honeymoon stage? Are we going to be spending all our time in bed?"
    "I can't think of a better way to pass the time. Can you?"
    "As a matter of fact, I can." Off his surprised look she added, "Food,
Mulder. Long bouts of lovemaking require energy. And I'm running on empty."
    He nodded his agreement. "Okay. Food would be good. Gimme time to shower
and then I'll cook you breakfast."
    "Make it snappy. I get cranky when I haven't eaten."
    "Oooo. That sounds like a threat."
    "Keep it up, Mulder, and you'll find out."
    He shot her a toothy grin and headed for the bathroom. After a quick shower
and shave, he wrapped a towel around his hips, pulling open the bathroom
door and stepping into the office. The sight that greeted him was like a
kick in the balls.
    Walter Skinner was standing in the middle of the office.
    And Scully was in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~               
end 12/14


Primal Sympathy
Chapter Thirteen

HOPE BASE
ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA
MAY 14, 1997
9:12 AM

    Mulder's first impulse was to tell Skinner to get his fucking hands
off Scully. His second was to jerk her out of the AD's arms and declare:
    "Mine."
    Of course being the sensible, rational adult he was, Mulder did
neither of these things. Instead, he forced himself to casually enter the
room and make his presence known. Scully saw him first. He took note
that she pulled away before Skinner seemed ready to let go.
    He kept his voice at an even keel. Glancing at Scully first, he
then locked onto Skinner and said, "I didn't know we were expecting
company, Scully. I would've worn something a little less casual."
    And then he deliberately slanted his eyes towards the well-used
bed, knowing Skinner's would follow. The underlying tension in the room
went up a notch as Skinner's cold scrutiny turned back to him.
    Scully, clad in her fuzzy white robe, glanced from Mulder to
Skinner and back. She pulled the belt of her robe tighter and stepped
away from the AD, gathering their clothes from the floor. Like that
particular chore was the most important thing she could be doing at the
moment. Her cheeks were flushed an interesting shade of red.
    "I was contacted by one of the Crawfords last night," Skinner
began to explain. "I wanted to tell Scully face to face how pleased I am
that she's been cured."
    "I can see that," Mulder replied. He crossed his arms over his
bare chest and added, "We all are. And it's definitely cause for
celebration. Matter of fact, Scully and I got started last night." He
screwed his face up in his best shit-eating grin. "Sorry you missed it."
    He could feel the heat of Scully's glare but couldn't allow himself
to look at her. Meeting her eyes head-on could cause him to
spontaneously combust--or something equally as horrid. Death by
ScullyStare. A modern-day Medusa.
    There's an X-File for you.
    During the loaded silence that followed, Scully yanked open a
drawer and pulled out some clothes. She gave them each another look
and headed for the bathroom. The door slammed decisively behind her.
    Mulder glanced over his shoulder in the direction she'd gone and
wondered aloud, "Think it was something I said?"
    Skinner took a step towards him. "Have we got a problem, Agent
Mulder?"
    "Well, aside from the fact that I'm underdressed, I don't think
so."
    Skinner shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat.
"Then why don't you rectify that problem. We need to talk."
    The two men traded a lengthy glare. Mulder broke it when he
tossed his duffel bag onto the bed and dug out a clean pair of jeans and
a t-shirt. He padded past the tiny kitchenette to the bathroom door.
Rapping his knuckles against it, he turned the knob and opened it.
    "I'm coming in, Scully."
    She was standing in front of the mirror, wearing a pair of black
pants and a simple white bra. She was brushing her hair in short, angry
strokes. Scully stopped and glared at his reflection in the mirror before
she swung around to face him. Mulder prepared to duck, certain the
brush was going to leave her hand and come flying at his head.
    Instead, her assault was verbal. "What the hell was that all
about?" she hissed in a tight whisper.
    Mulder dropped his towel. "Why don't you tell me? You're the
one who was hugging Skinner." He glanced around for his boxers and
realized he hadn't grabbed any. Fuck it. He pulled the jeans up over his
bare hips.
    "For your information it was him hugging me, not the other way
around. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you were."
    "Yeah, well," Mulder muttered as he pulled the shirt on over his
head. "He better keep his goddamn hands off you."
    "Or what? What are gonna do, beat him up?"
    "I might," he answered.
    "Oh, for chrissakes. Grow up, Mulder." She grabbed her blouse
from the back of the toilet and tugged it on, her fingers flying over the
buttons. "He's just happy about my cancer being gone. There's nothing
wrong with that. Don't start pulling this Alpha male crap on me."
    Mulder ran his hands through his hair and settled them on his
hips. "It goes a lot deeper than his being happy about your cure, Scully. I
can't believe you don't see that."
    "See what?"
    She really didn't know. Trust Scully to be so unaware of the
effect she had on the men in her life. Mulder had long held a suspicion
that Skinner was in love with her. But it wasn't until he'd found out about
Skinner's deal with Cancer Man that he'd begun to consider the Assistant
Director a rival. Mulder leaned in close and held Scully's eye. "He wants
you," he murmured. "Real bad."
    He watched as a generous smile slowly spread across Scully's
face. She lifted her hand and smoothed it across his cheek, shaking her
head in incredulity. "Unbelievable. And of course you had to make sure
he knew exactly what happened here last night, didn't you? I don't know
whether I should slap you or kiss you, Mulder."
    "Kiss me now, slap me later."
    She cupped his face in her hands and pressed a chaste kiss on
his mouth. "I'm leaving now." She slipped on a pair of flats and opened
the door. Mulder followed her out, absently tucking his shirt into his
jeans. Skinner was standing where Mulder had left him. The AD looked
over at Scully as they came into the room.
    "I'm going downstairs to get something to eat," she announced.
"If I stay here any longer, I'm afraid I might be overwhelmed by the
testosterone and start swooning." She threw Mulder another glance over
her shoulder and walked out the door.
    The two men traded looks. Mulder's tiny smirk bounced off
Skinner's stony expression. He clipped his holster onto the waist of his
jeans and grabbed a clean pair of socks and his sneakers. Crossing the
room, Mulder settled onto the couch. "You wanted to talk?"
    Skinner hesitated, looking towards the door Scully had just
exited. "Agent Scully might want to be here for this."
    "She needs to get some food in her. I'll fill her in later. What's
up?"
    Skinner expelled a long breath and sat down on the edge of the
recliner. "We need to discuss our next move."
    "Why? Did you have another meeting with our friend?" Mulder
asked as he pulled on his sneakers.
    "No. No further word from that end. But now that Scully's well
again...."
    "She goes back to work," Mulder finished.
    "While you do what?"
    "I'm a dead man. That narrows my options considerably."
    "So you're not planning on surfacing any time soon?"
    "Not until I can find out more about what my role is in this sordid
little tale. It'll be a lot easier to move around if nobody's looking for me."
    Skinner nodded slowly. "Have you discussed this with Agent
Scully?"
    A low, wry chuckle escaped Mulder. It occurred to him that
Scully hadn't once brought up the subject of what they'd do when she
was well. Then again, neither had he. "No. We, uh, we haven't been
doing much talking lately."
    He glanced up at Skinner and saw that his words had been
taken in the wrong context. He'd hadn't meant them to come across as
gloating, to make it sound like what he'd really been saying was, "Talk?
No way. We've been too busy banging each other to talk."
    For several reasons, Mulder found himself compelled to set
things straight with Skinner. His flash of childish jealously had dimmed
to a more than tolerable level. And he was also feeling an acute need to
protect Scully's honor after the ass he'd made of himself earlier. My
sense of chivalry's not dead, he thought. It's just a little slower some
days than others.
    "Scully and me... We've had kind of a rough go of it the last
week or so. Haven't been doing a lot of talking. Not about that,
anyway...." He trailed off and cast his glance downward.
    There was a long silence before Skinner's observation pulled his
eyes back up. "From the look of things this morning, Agent Mulder, I'd
say you're over the hump."
    He smiled sheepishly and saw it mirrored on Skinner's face. A
tight-assed smile, of course, but a smile nonetheless. "You love her, too,
don't you?" Mulder blurted. "That's why you made the deal with Cancer
Man."
    The Assistant Director tried. Had to give him credit for that. "I
did what I had to do in order to ensure the safety and good health of two
of my finest agents, Mulder. That's my job."
    Mulder was shaking his head before Skinner had even finished.
"Uh-uh. I'm not buying it, sir. This was above and beyond. Way beyond.
You did this for Scully, and maybe even a little for me."
    Skinner's face was passive. His eyes gave away nothing. The
two men studied each other, strangely comfortable in their mutual
scrutiny.
    "Why?" Mulder finally asked. "I mean, aside from the obvious.
Why are you willing to sacrifice yourself for us?"
    Skinner looked away. "I, uh," he stopped and cleared his throat.
"I...envy what you and Scully share. I've never met two people more
suited to each other than the two of you. And I mean as more than just
partners." Off Mulder's understanding nod, he continued. "When you two
are together in the same room, it's as if there's a bubble surrounding you
that no one else can penetrate. It sets you apart from everyone else,
every*thing* else. The isolation you impose on each other would
probably weaken any other relationship, but you manage to pull it off
and end up stronger for it. I envy that.
    "I also happen to believe in your work and what you and Scully
are trying to do. The truth needs to be found in order to bring these men
to justice. This is something I have to do, Agent Mulder...for my own
piece of mind."
    Mulder leaned forward, intent on getting answers. "How deeply
involved are you in all this? What exactly do you know?"
    "Not as much as you might think," Skinner retorted. "But I have
my suspicions."
    "Care to share any of them?"
    Skinner removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose
tightly. He scrubbed his face with one hand and slipped the glasses back
into place. "I'm convinced our smoking friend has his own agenda,
outside of his work for the Consortium. And I believe part of that agenda
involved protecting you."
    "Why?"
    "That I can't tell you; though I'm sure you have your own ideas.
All I know is that for quite some time, there's been a hands-off policy
within the Bureau in regards to your work. I'm sure I don't need to tell
you that had you been anyone else, your career with the FBI would have
ended a long time ago."
    "So you think this is strictly personal for Cancer Man? And that
my connection to the Project--whatever that may be--is an entirely
separate issue?"
    Skinner released a heavy sigh. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I know
that's not what you want to hear. But I'm as much in the dark over their
motives as you are. There is a limit to my knowledge, Agent Mulder."
    Mulder leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch.
He pushed a long breath out from between pursed lips and addressed
the ceiling. "You don't think I have a chance in hell on my own, do you?"
    There was a long silence before Skinner answered him. "I think,
given what we know, you'd be more successful using the Bureau's
resources. You stay out on your own, Mulder, and there won't be anyone
left to protect you. You'll be cutting yourself off from everyone and
leaving yourself completely vulnerable."
    "I'll still have Scully," Mulder reminded him.
    "And me," Skinner added. "But I don't see that Scully will be able
to help much in that regard. The X-Files division has been shut down.
Without you there, she'll most likely end up back at Quantico. The
answers you need are in the X-Files; I think we both know that."
    Mulder sat up. "So what are you saying? That I should just stroll
back to DC and announce that the reports of my death have been
greatly exaggerated? We just go back to square one?"
    "If I understood correctly, our main goal was to get Scully well
again. Anything else we found out would just be a bonus."
    "Can you reopen the X-Files?"
    "I've done it before."
    "But you can't guarantee our safety if I come back."
    "No, I can't. But I think it's reasonable to assume that after
Scully's last report on the nature of your work, the attention you receive
will be widespread."
    Mulder's forehead creased. "What do you mean?"
    "Not everyone in the Bureau is out to get you, Agent Mulder.
There are those who are just as interested in finding the truth as you are.
And despite what you might think, Scully made it very clear to the
people gathered in that meeting that someone wanted to make certain
the truth would never be known. She didn't paint you as a fool; just as
someone who'd been led to believe one thing when something else was
true."
    "I still don't see what you're getting at."
    "People don't like being made to feel foolish," Skinner explained.
"Especially bureaucrats. If enough of them think something is going on
within our government that they don't know about and could make them
look like incompetent boobs, I can promise you you'll be welcomed back
with open arms. You'll have the support you need. And that, in turn, will
go a long way towards ensuring your safety. And Scully's."
    Mulder snorted softly. "Work within the system instead of finding
ways to buck it? That's an interesting concept."
    "Come back to work, Mulder. That's where you can do the most
good."
    "He's right, you know."
    Both men turned to look at Scully. She stood in the doorway,
leaning one shoulder against the frame. "How long have you been
there?" Mulder asked. There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
    "Long enough," she answered, returning his look and joining him
on the couch.
    Mulder moved his hand from his leg and laid the tip of his index
finger on her knee, catching her eye. He leaned toward her and asked
softly, "Did you get something to eat?"
    Scully ducked her head as her mouth pulled up in a diminutive
smile. "Yeah," she murmured. Her eyes lifted to his.
    "Good." Mulder wondered if he was the only one who felt the
shift taking place in the room. A moment when everything faded into the
background but his awareness of Scully, and hers of him. He glanced
over at Skinner and saw that he was watching them. Taking in the
intimate tableau. Perhaps even trying to figure out how to penetrate the
bubble. He turned back to Scully. "You really think I should do this?"
    "Skinner's right. We both know what it's like to try to work
outside the law. I think we'd be more effective if we were together." A
secret smile flickered over her face and quickly disappeared. "And if
there's any advantage to be found in this situation, then I think we should
take it. If help is being offered, Mulder, there's no shame in accepting it."
    He cocked an eyebrow at her in surprise. He couldn't resist a
little dig. "What was that, Scully? I don't think I heard you right." His
pointed teasing was softened by his grin.
    "Everyone knows it's easier to give advice than take it," she
retorted mildly. Her expression was affectionate and warm.
    "Okay, okay," Skinner broke in. "I hate to interrupt this Kodak
moment, but we need to get back on track."
    Scully looked over at the AD and sat up a little straighter. Here
she comes, Mulder thought. The return of Agent Scully. It was easier to
watch the transformation now than it had ever been before. Because he
knew that now he could call up the woman in her with nothing more than
a word or a simple touch. Any time he wanted to. Well, almost any time.
They did still have to get some work done.
    "I can't speak for Agent Mulder, sir," Scully said. "But I'll be in
your office first thing Monday morning."
    She and Skinner both looked over at him,  waiting for his
response. Finally, he slumped back in his seat and said, "Well, obviously
it's not gonna be that easy for me. I'm going to have to get on the phone,
call in a favor or two from the boys. I'm still pretty green at this coming
back from the dead stuff. The first time was considerably different."
    He gazed into Scully's eyes and saw something there he hadn't
seen in months, maybe even years. She looked excited. Primed and
ready to get back to work. Her mood was contagious. "Let's do it," he said.
    Scully slapped her hands against her thighs and made a
satisfied face. Skinner rose from his perch and made his way to the
door. "You know what this means, don't you, Scully?" Mulder asked.
    "What's that?"
    "This time you get open an X-File on me."
    He got teeth with her smile this time. "Does this mean I finally
get my own desk, Mulder?"
    He opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped short by the
sound of feet pounding down the hallway towards the office. Mulder
stood and pushed by Skinner, getting to the door just as one of the
Crawfords burst through. He was panting heavily. His eyes were wide,
his face pale as a sheet.
    "There's someone here!" he announced. "Men with guns!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
end 13/14

Primal Sympathy
Chapter Fourteen

HOPE BASE
ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA
MAY 14, 1997
9:43 AM


    Several things happened at once. Mulder unsnapped his holster and drew his
weapon as he grabbed the hybrid by the shoulder, pulling him into the room.
He half-turned and saw Skinner with his own weapon in hand. From the corner
of his eye, he saw Scully reach to her right hip, reflexively going for her
gun and not finding it. She hustled to the bed and grabbed her Sig Sauer
from the nightstand, releasing the clip and checking the load before she
slapped it back in place. They traded a worried glance.
    Mulder turned back to the Crawford. "Where?" he snapped. "Where are they?"
    "Uh, they uh, they're at the opposite end of the factory," he stuttered.  
    "How many?"
    The hybrid blinked rapidly. "Eight. Maybe ten. I was watching the security
camera and saw a car and a van pull up. They started piling out and I came
straight up here."
    It was then they heard a muffled boom. Mulder knew in an instant that the
secured door had been blasted open. He calculated rapidly in his head. They
had maybe a minute and a half before the assault team crossed the factory
and reached the offices.
    He wheeled on Skinner and hissed, "You led them right here, you stupid son
of a bitch." Skinner's expression was grim. He started to say something but
Mulder cut him off, once more addressing the hybrid. "Is that you, George?"
    "Yeah."
    "How many of you are here in the factory?"
    George stared at him, open-mouthed and terrified. He shook his head and
finally answered, "Four. Including myself."
    "Scully," Mulder snapped. "The pocket of my duffel bag. My backup weapon's
in there. Get it for me."
    Skinner went out the door as Mulder crossed the room, pulling George along
with him. He took the gun from Scully and flipped off the safety, handing it
to the hybrid. "You ever used one of these?"
    George swallowed hard. "No."
    "Well, it's real easy," Mulder explained as he quickly led him to the
bathroom. "Aim down the barrel and pull the trigger." He pushed George in
before him and told him, "Stay here. Lock the door. Don't come out until one
of us comes for you. If they break in here, use the gun. You understand?"
    George nervously licked his lips and nodded. "Okay."
    "And, George? Don't fuck around. Head or heart. Make sure they go down the
first time. Got it?"
    "Yeah."
    Mulder pulled the door shut and heard it being locked. He raced back into
the office and joined Scully at the doorway. She was flushed, her breath
coming hard and fast. He touched her arm and asked, "Ready?"
    She nodded. "Yes. Mulder, who--"
    "I don't know, Scully, I don't know. But we're not gonna die. You hear me?
We're gonna make it out of this alive." His hand slid down her arm and
linked with her fingers, giving them a short squeeze. "Let's go."
    They joined the AD in the outer office and headed down the hallway; Skinner
playing point man, Scully bringing up the rear. They went down the stairs,
staying close to the wall, their weapons held at the ready. Mulder's heart
was thumping painfully in his chest. A hundred different questions skittered
and slid through his mind. Who had sent the assault team, and why? Had
Skinner turned on them and set a trap? Was the team under orders to kill
them all? What were their chances of getting out of the factory before the
men could catch up with them?
    The answers his brain supplied weren't very reassuring. Damn it, Mulder
thought, we've been through too much to have it end this way. He welcomed
the hot flash of rage that burned through him. Combined with the adrenaline
that was coursing through his body, it helped clear his mind and sharpen his
focus. It didn't matter what happened to him or Skinner, or even George. If
he could get Scully out of this in one piece, he'd gladly give up his own
life in exchange. He glanced back over his shoulder at her and caught her
reassuring nod.
    They were at the landing between the first and second floors when they
heard a startled cry from below. It was followed by the sound of breaking
glass and several heavy thumps--but no gunfire. Not yet, anyway.
    Of course not, Mulder realized. Hybrids. Toxic blood. Back of the neck; the
only way to kill them. He found himself desperately wishing Scully had
retained some of the alien genes that'd cured her cancer. At least then he
wouldn't have to worry about a simple bullet taking her out.
    Skinner stopped and turned to him. "Where?"
    "There's an exit between the lab and the dorm," Mulder answered in a tight
whisper. He turned to Scully. "Take a left at the bottom of the stairs. You
hit that door and haul ass outta here. Head for the field. We'll cover you
and get out there when we can."
    "No," she declared. "I'm staying with you."
    "Fuck that, Scully! You go," he ordered, his voice raspy and demanding.
    She caught his eye and held it as Skinner took three steps down the last
flight of stairs. Her eyes were bright with intensity; fierce and beautiful.
"No, Mulder. I'm not leaving you. Not now, not ever again. If we die, we die
together."
    He shoved out a quick breath and his left hand snapped up to curl around
the base of her skull. He roughly pulled her to him and dipped his head,
crushing her mouth under his. Mulder's kiss was short and brutal, filled
with conflicting emotions. Fear; pride; anger; hope.
    And love. Love most of all.
    He pulled back and gave Scully a terse nod, vowing, "Together." Mulder
glanced away and saw Skinner's eyes on them. The two men exchanged a long
look before Mulder said in a low voice, "We go on three." He cocked his
elbow, raising his weapon to shoulder level and holding up his left hand in
a fist. He silently mouthed the words as each finger lifted and
straightened.  "One. Two. Th--"
    Before he could get the word out, a door burst open below and to the left
of them, where the lab was located. Mulder stood transfixed as Skinner's gun
arm snapped up, his finger reflexively beginning to squeeze the trigger as
he aimed. A shot rang out. Only it wasn't Skinner's.
    The AD was spun around, his gun flying from his hand and bouncing off the
wall and down the stairs as a bullet entered high on his right shoulder. A
spray of blood painted the wall as Skinner slumped against it, his legs
giving out on him. Mulder ducked and shoved Scully down, going for the floor.
    "Freeze!" a voice rang out.
    Mulder, still in a crouch, grabbed Scully's elbow and tried to push her
back in the direction they'd come. But she wouldn't go. She yanked her arm
free and pushed by him, heading for Skinner.
    "Scully!"
    He reached for her, but she was already at the AD's side as four men,
clothed in black and armed to the teeth, filled the hallway below them.
    "Freeze!" The order rang out for the second time. "Drop your weapons or
we'll shoot!"
    Fuck me, Mulder thought with bitter resignation. There was nowhere to go.
The heavily armed men would pick them off like flies if they tried to escape
now. He didn't much relish the thought of taking a round in the back. He and
Scully exchanged a glance and Mulder slowly lowered his weapon, setting it
on the floor of the landing. Scully placed hers on the stair where she was
perched and turned her attention back to Skinner.
    The Assistant Director's eyes were squeezed shut. His teeth were bared,
tightly clenched against the pain. As one of the squad members scrambled up
the stairs to retrieve their weapons, Scully slapped her open hand against
the wound on Skinner's shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
    "Get up," the soldier on the stairs ordered, waving his assault rifle
menacingly. "Downstairs."
    Scully's looked up at him and said in a high, sharp tone, "This man needs
medical attention."
    The response was derisive enough that Mulder was tempted to take his
chances and deck the guy. "You're the doctor, Agent Scully. Get him
downstairs and do your job."
    "Who are you?" she demanded.
    "Who we are makes no difference. Now you've got two choices: get your asses
downstairs or risk a bullet like your friend."
    Scully growled low in her throat and Mulder could sense that she was ready
to snap. He found one little sea of calm within him and gratefully embraced
it. He gently laid his hand on her shoulder and murmured, "C'mon, Scully.
Let's do what the man says."
    He got up behind the AD and slung Skinner's uninjured arm around his
shoulder. Mulder grasped him around the waist and slowly helped him to his
feet. Scully stayed on Skinner's right, her hand pressing against the fabric
of his trench coat, over the entrance wound. Mulder could see the blood
seeping through her fingers and noted Skinner's pasty complexion. He didn't
have to be a doctor to see that Skinner was probably going into shock.
    He half-carried Skinner into the lab. There were five more squad members
there. One was seated at a computer terminal, pounding away at the keyboard
as a mish-mash of information scrolled rapidly by on the monitor. Another
had rounded up the three hybrids and was holding them at gun point. Two more
were moving through the room, gathering papers and files. Clean-up
operation, Mulder realized. The fifth man was holding a hand-held radio and
pacing the lab. He turned as they entered the room and quietly said
something into the radio.
    Scully steered them toward a long conference table. With a sweep of her arm
she cleared the table of coffee cups and pens and helped Mulder lay the AD
down. She turned to Mulder. "I need some towels. And get something to
elevate his feet before he goes into shock."    
    Mulder looked to the man holding the radio and got his nod of permission.
He stepped to a large metal cabinet and opened it, grabbing hand towels and
other assorted linens. He spotted a sealed case of test tubes and tucked
that under his arm. Mulder joined Scully and handed her the towels, stepping
to Skinner's feet and placing the case beneath them. "What can I do?" he
asked her.
    "We need to get his coat and suit off. I have to be able to see the wound."
She twisted at the waist and addressed the radio man. "These men have
medical training," she said, lifting her chin in the direction of the
Crawfords. "I could use some assistance."
    The man studied her with cold blue eyes. Finally, he turned to the man
guarding the Crawfords. "Get one of 'em over here."
    A Crawford was selected and nudged away from the others with the long
barrel of the soldier's rifle. He joined Scully and she began to issue
quiet, urgent orders. Mulder was quickly relegated to standing watch as they
gathered what they needed and set to work. Within minutes, Skinner had been
stripped to the waist and was being given oxygen as Scully patched his
shoulder. Mulder was calm enough by then to be grateful they'd taken the
time to supply the lab so well. They'd considered most every possible
medical emergency and had stocked up accordingly.
    Luckily for the AD--or maybe not luck at all, Mulder mused, maybe
purposefully--the shot had been a clean one; passing through his shoulder
with what appeared to be minimal damage. Scully was more concerned with
further blood loss and the onset of shock than anything else.
    She and the hybrid eventually managed to slow the bleeding to what she
deemed an acceptable level. Skinner had been largely silent the entire time
they'd worked; only the occasional groan or hiss of breath breaking the
tense silence around the table.
    The assault team continued to buzz around them, bringing in boxes and
filling them, hauling out most things not nailed down or too large to carry.
Mulder kept track of their comings and goings, watching the man who seemed
to be in charge as he issued orders and occasionally shifted his attention
to the activity going on around the table.
    Scully finally left the makeshift trauma table and grabbed a towel, wiping
the blood from her hands as she approached Mulder. She shot the man in
charge a wary side-long glance and stepped close. Mulder leaned in to close
the distance even more.
    "How's he doing?" he asked.
    She sighed and peered up at him. There was a smudge of blood on her jaw.
"He's gonna be okay, I think. There may be resultant nerve damage, but I
can't know that until we get him to a hospital."
    Mulder licked the pad of his thumb, gently scrubbed the blood from her jaw
and then wiped his thumb dry on his jeans. "Somehow, Scully, I don't see
them just letting us call for an ambulance," he remarked wryly.
    She closed her eyes in a slow blink and heaved another sigh. "He'll need
antibiotics, Mulder. My God, I didn't even have gloves on while I was
working on him. Not to mention this room isn't exactly sterile. The risk of
infection is astronomical. And he's probably going to...need...."
    Scully's words came to a slow stop as the sound of an opening door captured
Mulder's attention and he looked away. She turned her head and followed his
eyes as they tracked the man who'd just walked into the lab from the front
entrance.
    It was the older, well-manicured man. He was alone and strode toward them
purposefully, not bothering to acknowledge the soldiers still milling about
the lab. He gave Skinner a curious glance before turning his attention back
to Mulder and Scully. He greeted them as though it was some sort of social
event they were all attending. Welcome to the tea party, Mulder thought giddily.
    "Mr. Mulder, Ms. Scully. How nice to see you both again. Particularly you,
Mr. Mulder. I'd hoped your death wasn't as certain as it first appeared to
be." He raked over Scully's length with an appraising eye. "Ms. Scully,
you're looking quite lovely today. And healthy, too."
    Scully curled her lip and shot back, "No thanks to you."
    The ghost of a smirk crossed the man's lips. "Oh, but you're wrong, my
dear. Quite a lot of your gratitude should go to me."
    "What do you mean?" Mulder asked sharply.
    The man turned back to him. "Do you know why I'm here, Mr. Mulder?"
    "Well, somehow I don't think it's to award me the grand prize in the
Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes."
    The old man actually grinned. His cold smile instantly brought to mind the
image of an ancient, omnipresent evil. Mulder shivered involuntarily.
    "No, I'm afraid not."
    "Then why are you here?" Scully asked. Her arm brushed against his and
Mulder could feel how rigidly she was holding herself. He blindly reached
out and grasped her fingers. They were cold as ice. He squeezed and then
released them. The contact was fleeting, but enough to fill the need in both
of them to connect, if only briefly.
    Mulder was aware of every beat of his heart and the concurrent pounding in
ears. His mouth was dry, his stomach doing lazy cartwheels. Mulder had faced
down evil in many forms, but for some reason the distinguished man in front
of him frightened him more than any liver-eating mutant or shapeshifting
bounty hunter ever had.  
    That's because he knows, cackled a little voice in Mulder's head; he knows
the truth we've been searching for. He can answer all my questions. About
Samantha, about what happened to Scully, about my life. Everything I've ever
wanted to know.
    In a ephemeral flash of insight, Mulder realized he was more terrified of
hearing the answers than of not. And just how strange was that?  
    "Because you and your associates have found the solution that has eluded us
for many years, Ms. Scully. Just as I'd hoped you would," the Well-Manicured
Man answered.
    "What are you talking about?" Mulder demanded.
    "The formula necessary to cure certain ailments without the unsavory
side-effects we've encountered in the past. You must understand that it
wouldn't do to have a small segment of the population walking the streets
filled with toxic blood and possessing abilities outside the norm. What if
one of them were to be injured and require medical treatment? The risks were
just too great, Mr. Mulder. But thanks to your associates and their
participation, we can now eliminate that obstacle."
    Of course, Mulder thought. Some of the pieces were beginning to fall into
place. "Purity control, " he muttered to himself.
    "Oh, yes," the man confirmed.
    Mulder shook his head in amazement. After a long silence, he added, "A
method of altering genes that would allow for all of the benefits without
any of the drawbacks."
    "Precisely."
    Mulder continued, gathering his thoughts aloud. "As a way of creating the
perfect human-alien hybrid. One who'd be practically immune to any sort of
biological toxin or disease--terrestrial or otherwise. Only without the
obviously alien side-effects that would tend to draw unwanted attention. It
would just be a matter of isolating a certain gene and treating it with the
alien bacteria."
    The man nodded. "Just as was done with Ms. Scully. Quite successfully, I
might add."
    Mulder darted his eyes at Scully. Her mouth was pulled tight, her back was
ramrod straight. Her accusation, when it came, was cold and indignant. "You
mean you used me as a guinea pig? You gave me cancer as a means of isolating
the formula?"
    "Not just you, Ms. Scully. Several other women, as well."
    The nonchalant way he confirmed Scully's fears made Mulder's blood run
cold. Who were these men, who would sacrifice so many lives for their own
agenda? What this man was implying was as despicable as anything the Nazi's
had done during their brief but terrible reign in the early part of the
century. Not that the collapse of Hitler's Germany had halted any of the
terrible experimentation, Mulder mused. They'd just moved onto US soil and
gone deep underground. And somewhere along the line, alien biology had begun
to figure into the equation.
    "I should kill you right now," Mulder told him, his voice filled with quiet
menace. "With my bare hands."
    "To what possible end?" the man retorted. "You'd only die yourself, and
take Ms. Scully with you. Surely you didn't go through all this to end up
dying again--and permanently this time. For what? So that you could have
revenge? Don't be foolish, Mr. Mulder. You've been given a chance to start
anew, with an unusually healthy partner. Not many dead men get that
opportunity."
    "How did you find us?" Scully asked impatiently.
    The man glanced over his shoulder at Skinner before turning back to them.
"It wasn't him, if that's what you're thinking. I've been aware of the
hybrids' extracurricular activities for some time now. But I only suspected
what they might have been up to."
    He shifted his gaze to Mulder and continued. "It was your increasing
recklessness and then your alleged suicide that alerted me to the
possibility you might be searching out an unorthodox cure for Ms. Scully's
cancer. Once it was ascertained she'd gone underground, it was simply a
matter of waiting for the results I wanted. One of the hybrids was finally
located and detained here in Allentown yesterday. He was able to provide the
answers I sought.
    "They're all very similar. Have you noticed that, Mr. Mulder? What one
knows, they all seem to know. It was very simple, actually. It was just a
matter of asking the right questions."
    Mulder's heart had risen to block his throat. It couldn't have been George,
could it? No, it wasn't possible. George hadn't left the factory since
Scully had begun her treatments--he was sure of it. But he asked the
question anyway. "Which one? Where he is now?"
    "Oh, I'm afraid he suffered a tragic accident. And, of course, I'll have to
take these others with me," he said, waving towards the three Crawfords.
"They're too valuable to the Project now to let them run amuck spreading the
news of a cure for cancer."
    "You bastard," Scully spat. "You've got it all figured out, don't you? And
you can't possibly let us go public with this. It would mean giving away the
advantage."
    "Just so," he answered. "Consider it, Ms. Scully. A cure for cancer, one of
the greatest killers known to mankind. The man who possesses that cure can
own the world."
    "Don't you mean the group of men who possess it?" Mulder asked.
    "Oh my, no," the old man retorted. "My first concern is for myself, Mr.
Mulder. One can't win the game without first holding all the aces. And I
intend to come out a winner." He gestured around the room. "All the hard
copy research has been collected. Any and all computer files have been
located, accessed and copied. A virus has been introduced into your
mainframe, effectively wiping out the hard drive. Nothing will remain. No
proof to back up your account of things. You will leave here with nothing."
    That's what you think, Mulder thought smugly. I'll leave here with Scully
well again. And maybe even more than that. He and Scully traded a glance
before Scully turned back to the man, skepticism practically dripping from
her words.
    "You're just going to let us walk out of here?"
    He actually looked surprised by her question. "Of course. Why wouldn't I? I
have what I came for. And you and Mr. Mulder still have so much more to do."
He paused for a beat and added, "However, my colleagues might not be so
generous. I had to share some of this with them, you understand. There will
be another team arriving within the hour. They will do a final sweep, and
they have orders to kill anyone remaining. I suggest you collect Mr. Skinner
and leave this place immediately."
    As he'd been speaking, the last of the assault team had cleared the lab,
escorting the three Crawford hybrids from the room. Mulder took a good look
around. The place was empty, wiped out. Skinner had come around a little and
had turned his head, watching them, silently taking in their conversation.
Scully stood close to him, her arms crossed in front of her. She looked as
stunned as Mulder felt.
    Without another word, the Well-Manicured Man turned on his heel and began
to walk away.
    "Why?" Mulder called out to him. "Why don't you just kill us and get it
over with? It'd be the smartest thing you could do." He was aware of the
incredulous look Scully was shooting him.
    The older man slowly turned back to them, a sympathetic smile on his face.
"Mr. Mulder, I can't tell you what you want to know."
    "Can't?" Mulder challenged. "Or won't?"
    The smile got wider. "Good day, Mr. Mulder, Ms. Scully." He looked in the
AD's direction and added, "Mr. Skinner."
    And then he was gone.
    An unsettled hush blanketed the room. Mulder found himself unable to do
anything but stare at the door the old man had just exited, his mind trying
to wrap itself around what had just happened. And then he felt a touch on
his arm and glanced aside to find Scully looking up at him. Her expression
held a mixture of resigned weariness and gentle concern.
    He released a heavy sigh and asked, "So what do you think, Scully?"
    She looked over at Skinner and then back. "I think we should take his
advice and get the hell out of here. Much as the man makes my skin crawl,
I've learned to heed his warnings."
    Mulder nodded his agreement, thinking about the Well-Manicured Man's last
warning to Scully and how it had saved her life. But only at the cost of
Melissa's, he reminded himself. His gaze met Scully's and he could see she
was thinking the same thing.
    "You take Skinner's car and get him to a hospital. I'll...I'll gather my
stuff and--"
    "No." The word was spoken determinedly and through gritted teeth. As one,
Mulder and Scully turned to Skinner. "Scully, you get whatever you need and
get out of here. Take the van. Go home and sit tight. I'm staying with Mulder."
    "Sir," she protested as she stepped to the table, "you have a gunshot wound
that needs to be treated."
    "I'm keenly aware of that, Agent Scully. But there's the small matter of
Agent Mulder's earlier death and the need for a cover story to bring him
back." The AD grunted in pain as he shifted on the table and attempted to
sit up. Mulder joined Scully and they both helped him up. By the time he was
settled with his legs dangling off the edge of the table, Skinner's face had
drained of what little color it had held, and he was breathing in short,
ragged breaths. He cradled his right arm against his chest and shifted his
eyes from one to the other, until they settled on Mulder. "I have an idea,
but it means staying with you. We'll have to find a place to hole up for a
few days, make some of those phone calls you mentioned earlier. We have to
give this some thought. The last thing we can afford to do right now is go
stumbling around in the dark, hoping everything works out for the best. This
has to be done right."
    Mulder took a long moment to study Skinner. He was inwardly waging a battle
between his concern for the Assistant Director on the one hand, and his
concern for him and Scully on the other. He worried his top lip with his
finger and then drew it away, asking, "What've you got in mind?"
    It only took a few minutes for Skinner to outline his plan. When he was
finished, Mulder turned to Scully. "You think he'll be all right for a few
days?"
    She hung her head and then peered up at him through her lashes. "Well... I
did drive you across the country with a similar shoulder wound... I suppose
it'll be okay." She crossed her arms and threw both men a stern look. "But
you keep a damn close eye on him, Mulder. If the wound shows *any* sign of
infection, you have to get him to a hospital as quickly as you can. We
should have everything here you'll need to take with you as far as medical
supplies. I'll put together a box for you. She turned to Skinner. "But
first, let's get a sling on that arm."
    Within minutes Skinner was sporting a makeshift brace and Scully had
demonstrated her talent at the fine art of pilfering. She did a few slight
adjustments on the sling before focusing her attention on Mulder. He got a
quick rundown on the care and feeding of a gunshot wound before they left
Skinner and headed up to the office to gather their things. It wasn't until
Mulder walked into the room that he remembered George.
    "Shit," he muttered and loped to the bathroom. He softly knocked on the
door. "Hey, George, open up. It's me."
    He heard the lock disengage and the door slowly opened. Mulder was meet
with two wide eyes. He noted that George was tightly clutching the gun in
his hand. "It's okay, man. They're gone. C'mon out."
    Mulder stepped aside and let the hybrid pass. He caught up with him at the
doorway of the kitchenette and slowly took George's arm in one hand and
pried his fingers off the gun with the other. He shoved it into his jeans,
tucking it into the small of his back. "Take it easy, George," he chuckled.
"It's all over."
    "What happened?"
    "I'll fill you in later. We're gonna take a road trip. You, me and Skinner.
I need you go downstairs and help him out. He took a bullet in the shoulder
and he's not moving around very well. Get him out to his car and get him
settled in the back seat. I'll be down in a few minutes."
    "Agent Scully?" the hybrid asked him as they entered the office. And then
George glanced over and saw her hastily throwing things into her bag. Scully
looked up and threw him a warm smile.
    "I'm fine, George. Really," she assured him.
    Mulder was shocked by the hot moisture that flooded his eyes at her words.
His tears didn't make any sense; not really. And he could remember a time
not so long ago when those words leaving Scully's mouth had been the most
hated of any she could have uttered. But now....
    Now they were the truth. Now she really was fine. If that made him a little
weepy, well, Mulder figured there was nothing wrong with that. He knuckled
his eyes dry and started to collect his things as George headed for the door.
    And then Mulder remembered something and was tempted to slap himself silly
for forgetting in the first place. He stopped George's progress with a quick
word. "Hey." The hybrid wheeled around, a startled look on his face. "You
remember that thing you did for me when we hit on the formula?"
    "Yes." George waited, an expectant look on his face.
    Mulder told him, "Make sure you bring along something to get at it, okay?"
    George shot him a look of understanding. "Of course, Agent Mulder. I don't
think that'll be a problem. I'll see you in a few minutes."
    He left the room and Mulder went back to his chore. He was aware that
Scully had stopped her packing and was watching him. He felt her curiosity
and smothered a grin.
    Apparently Scully's patience was wearing thin. Because she left her side of
the bed and came around to his, reaching for his arm and stopping him with a
handful of clothes half-stuffed into his duffel.
    "You wanna tell me what that was all about?" she asked when he peered up at
her.
    He straightened up and looked down at her. This time, he let the grin poke
through a little. "It's nothing much, Scully. Just a first for us. And for me."
    One eyebrow crawled up her forehead. "Explain, Mulder."
    He dipped his head and pressed a quick kiss between her brows. "You
remember all the evidence we've collected that's always managed to
disappear, or get stolen or destroyed? All the times we've seen things we
could never prove?"
    "Yes," she answered impatiently. "So... What's your point?"
    "After George and the others found the right formula, I had him copy all
the pertinent files. They were encrypted and the information placed onto a
microprocessor. And then that was hidden in an implant. A subcutaneous implant."
    Scully looked stunned. There was no other word for it. She opened her mouth
to speak but at first could only stammer. "An... An implant?... You mean?...
Wh...what the hell are you talking about, Mulder?"
    He tugged his shirt free of his jeans and lifted it in answer, pointing to
a long scar that ran high across his ribs, compliments of the Jersey Devil.
"You really need to be more observant, Agent Scully," he teased. "You've
been over every square inch of me the last day. I'm surprised you didn't
notice part of the scar is a little fresher than it should be."
    With that, Scully bent low and brought her face close to his chest. After a
long time, she hesitantly reached out and ran the tip of her finger over the
scar. And then used the pads of two fingers to gently probe it.
    When she finally straightened, she looked him dead in the eye. Her
expression held equal parts of wonder and growing satisfaction. "The
implant?" she asked, pointing at his chest.
    Mulder didn't speak. He just nodded at her, a smug little grin plastered on
his face.
    "Well, I'll be damned," she muttered.
    He allowed the shirt to drop back over his belly. "Quick flick of the knife
and it's outta there, Scully. All the proof we need. Amazing what can be
done with microprocessors these days. Ain't high technology grand?"
    Scully smiled widely and stretched on her toes, sliding her arms around his
ribs and up his back. "Have I told you lately what a remarkable man you are?"
    "Nope," he replied, his eyes dropping to her full lips. "Don't think you have."
    "Well," she said, and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. "As soon as
this mess is all straightened out, you be sure to remind to take some time
and do just that."
    He cocked an eyebrow at her. "*Some* time, Scully? I only get some time?"
    "Okay, Mulder. How about a lot of time? How about a lifetime? A very long
lifetime."
    He pulled back and studied her. His chest was tight--and it had nothing to
do with Scully's confident embrace. His voice was choked when he answered
her, but he didn't care. Mulder pulled her to him and buried his face in her
silky hair, whispering, "I like the way you think, Scully. I like it a lot."
    Her hand slid up to linger at the nape of his neck. "I love you, Mulder."
    He groaned and nuzzled deeper. "Say it again, Scully. Please."
    "I love you, I love you, I love you." He could hear the hint of amusement
in her voice. "Will that hold you for awhile?"
    He pulled away a little. "I guess it's going to have to. We gotta get out
of here, Scully. We're running out of time."
    "Yeah, you're right." Scully released him and came down flat on her feet.
"Promise me you'll keep in touch. I'm going to go crazy if I don't know
what's going on."
    "I will," he told her. "You just get yourself home and take it easy. I'll
be okay, I promise. And, hopefully, in a week or two we'll be back at work."
    "An unbeatable team."
    "An immovable force."
    They traded gentle smiles. Mulder leaned over and grabbed his duffel bag,
slinging the strap over his shoulder. He picked up Scully's bag and took a
last look around the office. "You got everything you
need, Scully?"
    Her eyes were warm as a summer's sun when they met his. She reached out and
offered him her hand. Mulder grasped it, inordinately pleased by the way it
fit so well in his. Their fingers linked and she nodded up at him, a
brilliant Scully smile lighting up her face.
    "I do now," she assured him. "Everything I need."
    They walked out of the office hand in hand; neither one looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
end14/14  

Primal Sympathy
Epilogue

WASHINGTON, DC
MAY 21, 1997


>From The Washington Post:

    FBI AGENT PRESUMED DEAD RESURFACES IN VIRGINIA
    by Kristopher Carter

    In what officials are calling a bizarre case of kidnapping and mistaken
identity, an FBI Special Agent presumed dead of a self-inflicted gunshot
wound contacted local police earlier today. Fox W. Mulder, 35, of
Alexandria, Virginia, spoke to officials after he escaped from his captors
with the help of two other men.
    Early on the morning of April 26, 1997, Alexandria police were called to an
apartment at 42-2360 Hegal Place, where they discovered a body that was
later identified as Mulder's. The remains were shortly thereafter cremated.
An inside source has confirmed to this reporter that the autopsy records on
the now unidentified body have disappeared.
    Local officials are hesitant to release many details of the kidnapping
until they've completed their investigation. However, it has been confirmed
that Mulder was allegedly kidnapped by an unidentified man and a body
resembling his was left in the apartment.
    FBI Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner, who accompanied Mulder to the
police station, later told this reporter that he had been contacted
anonymously and given Mulder's location; allegedly an abandoned farmhouse in
rural Virginia. Upon his arrival there, he discovered Agent Mulder and
another kidnap victim, identified only as George Starbuck, no known address.
A gun battle with the kidnapper ensued as the three men attempted to leave
the area. Skinner suffered a gunshot wound to the shoulder but was expected
to make a full recovery. Mulder and Starbuck were uninjured.
    Police do not expect to make any arrests for some time, citing a lack of
solid evidence or any clues that might lead them to the perpetrator. Special
Agent Mulder is expected to return to work this week.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    THE END  

Author's notes: Well, this has been a long, strange trip. The basic idea for
this story first started rattling around in my head shortly after the fourth
season finale. In the ensuing months, I began and deleted two different
versions of Primal Sympathy before I finally hit on the one that seemed to
fit me the best. Thanks must go to Karen Rasch for plugging through the
first two and helping me gather my thoughts for the final version.
    Say what you will about Gethsemane, good or bad, but it certainly has given
birth to some of the finest pieces of fanfic I've had the pleasure of
reading during this long hiatus--and many more I haven't gotten to yet. You
may cry foul at Chris Carter, but it seems the events of Gethsemane
intrigued many of us. For that, I must bow to his talent for messing with
our heads and leaving us wanting more, as well as his predilection for
ambiguity and not answering all the questions--which I've tried to follow
here. <g>
    Thanks also go to the chaos lists: x-files, xf-romantics and fictalk, for
the interesting and lively conversations that followed Gethsemane and
continue still. With such a wealth of intelligence and insight, it's a true
pleasure to participate in these forums.
    A wink and a nod to Joyce McKibben, Meredith and Miki Akimoto, whose superb
"Missing Voices" gave me the idea for my epilogue. It is meant as tribute
and thanks.
    Thanks also to everyone who took the time to write me with ideas,
suggestions, overlooked boo-boos, and thoughtful comments. I've said it
before and I'll say it again: without my constant and faithful readers, this
wouldn't be nearly as much fun.
    On a final note, one of the goals of this story was an attempt on my part
to portray Mulder and Scully as the diverse, complicated human beings they
are, with all their attendant flaws and short-comings. Truthful
characterization has always been extremely important to me, especially when
attempting to put them into a romantic relationship. I'd love to hear how
you think I did. It's as simple as hitting the reply button. :)

Till the next time,
Lydia         
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
   X-Phile--XFR--SPCDD--LOMIG--SMMTFL
*Co-Founder of the Mulder Defense League*
       X-Files Fanfiction by Lydia Bower
http://members.aol.com/XFSparky/index.html