The Root of All Evil (4/10)

By Donna
donnah@donnas-stories.com


URL - www.donnas-stories.com
Rating - PG-13
Category - AU, MSR
Spoilers - None
Keywords - AU, MSR
Summary - If things had happened differently . . .
Feedback - Please
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit

Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen and
Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox.  No
infringement intended.

The Root of All Evil - part 4


"So you've got a patient who thinks they've seen an alien."
Frohike dapped at his cheek with a napkin.  "And you don't
believe in such things."

"No, I don't."

"Well, you're not alone," John agreed.  "But there's more and
more evidence of something going on.  What did your patient
say that led you to us?"

"The description - it was so detailed.  I automatically
assumed it came from a book, but my patient was so . . . "

"What did he say?"  Langly asked, reaching for another beer.

Mulder ran through the description.  The guys nodded at
intervals, but didn't interrupt him.  When he was through he
sat back and lifted the beer bottle to his lips.

"How old was he when he witnessed this?"

"Ten."

"And now?"

"Does that matter?"

"Just wondered how long he repressed this."

"A long time."

"Okay.  What did he tell people after it happened?"

"Didn't wake up for three days.  Coma."

Now the other two sat up, excited.  "Coma?  Damn, that's
evidence.  He said he was touched?  That's rare.  Can you
get the medical records?"

"Why?  What would that do?"

"There are things we can look for; routine tests that make no
sense."

"I, I don't know."

"Look, we know you don't believe.  That's cool, we don't
believe in a lot of things either, but if there's physical
evidence - "

"Of an alien abduction?"

"Can you get it, then get snide?"

"Sorry.  I don't know.  I'll see what I can do."

*****

She needed more information, damn it.  She'd never
investigated what had happened to her immediately
following Charlie's disappearance.  No one had as far as she
could remember.  She was the physical evidence left behind,
so why not?

Dr. Paul Moss had been her and Charlie's doctor forever. 
Maybe he knew something.  Now for an excuse to see him.

*****

"Dana, it's good to see you."

"Thanks for squeezing me in, Dr. Paul.  It looks like I might
be headed for Brazil and I know my shots aren't up to date."

He shook his head indulgently.  "You young people have so
much energy.  Let me get your file and see what shots
you're missing."  He pushed the intercom button and within
minutes her file was on his desk.

"I've been coming here a long time."

"Yes, you have," he chuckled at some memory.

"It's not a very large file."

"You've been a very healthy girl."

"Except for that time in the hospital," she agreed.  "Did
anyone ever determine what caused the coma?"

He shook his head.  "That was a terrible time.  No, I'm sorry
to say I never got a definitive answer about that.  The tests
were botched and by the time I realized it, you were awake
and your parents desperately wanted you home.  You were
fine, so . . . "

"The tests were botched?  I never heard that."

"Yes, they were mixed with someone else's or something."

"Really?"

"Don't think about it now, dear.  It was a long time ago."  He
was flipping through the papers and nodded.  "Okay, I'll get
your injections.  Wait here."

"Thanks."  He left the room and she pounced on the file,
flipping through it quickly.  Botched tests?  That made no
sense.  She found that section and quickly pulled the
information from the file.  She was just closing her bag when
the door opened again.

"Okay, Dana, roll up your sleeve and you'll be all set.  Just
be careful down in Brazil."

"I promise."

"Tell your parents hello for me."

"Will do, Dr. Paul.  Thanks again for seeing me on such short
notice."

He gave her a quick hug, then she slipped out.

***** 

Once she was alone in her apartment, she locked up and
hurried to her office.  She booted up her computer, then
pulled the papers she had taken from her medical file from
her bag. 

She read what she could while she waited to be logged on. 
Medical jargon wasn't her thing, but . . . She fed the words
into Google and waited.  'Attendant reduction in the
lymphocyte population', 'release of gluco-cordacoids'.

The computer wasn't real helpful.  She couldn't read the
jargon that brought up either.  She needed help with this,
someone with a medical degree.  Immediately Dr. Mulder's
face was before her.  No, he didn't believe in any of this. 
There was no need to bother him. 

Hell, why was she even bothering.  He was a medical doctor,
a psychiatrist.  She read science fiction novels and flitted. 
She shut down the computer and stuffed the stolen pages
into the drawer.

*****

"Dr. Mulder, this one's addressed personal and confidential." 
Kimmie handed him an envelope as he returned from lunch.

"Interesting, no return address.  Okay.  When's my next
appointment?"

"Not until two."

He nodded and headed for his private office, slitting the
envelope with his finger.  It was a heavy cream stationery,
expensive.  He pulled out the folded sheet and saw another
piece of paper flutter to the floor.  He stooped and picked it
up - a check.  Damn, a check from Dana.

"This should cover the charges for our sessions.  Please
forward the audio tapes registered mail."  An address was
listed below.  She'd paid for the three after hour sessions as
well.

When he left the office that evening and headed for the
subway, he was aware that his mood was darker than the
situation warranted.  She hadn't called him and she hadn't
returned any of his calls for over a week.  That hadn't
stopped his own investigation into this new idea.  Aliens, part
of him wanted to laugh at himself, but the information that
John's friends had supplied him . . . well maybe he wasn't
completely convinced, but . . . Something caught his eye as
he passed the news stand and he stopped.

His eyes were drawn to the tabloid section and he grabbed
up the one closest to him.  Dana?  It was her.  He'd know
that hair anywhere.  He hadn't seen her dressed like that
and part of him was shamed at his reaction to it.  She was a
beautiful woman, but she hadn't flaunted it like this in his
office.

Was this what she was doing now to forget her nightmare?

"This ain't no library, mister," the middle aged man running
the stand held out his hand for the paper.

"Sorry," Mulder reached into his pocket and handed the guy
a bill.  "You know this club?"

"Oh yeah, I check it out every time I'm downtown," he said
sarcastically. 

"Thanks," Mulder took his change and headed down the
steps to catch the train.  Once seated he opened the paper
and checked the story.  She'd been partying hard
apparently.  He didn't watch entertainment shows; maybe he
should have.  No wonder she hadn't called.

When he got home he got on-line to check out the latest
'celebrity' updates.  The tabloid was behind with their news. 
She'd been out every night, drinking and dancing.  Damn it. 

He fixed some dinner and picked at it, but couldn't
concentrate.  He'd let her down.  She'd said she didn't care
for partying. 

To hell with it.  He'd known he was going as soon as he'd
seen the picture.  He slipped into more casual clothes and
headed downtown.  Three of the last four nights she'd come
here, including last night.  It was a place to start.

He stood in the line outside the club for a short time.  He
wasn't a regular, but apparently he was attractive enough for
the guy manning the velvet rope to raise it and wave him in. 
He kept his opinion to himself and found a place at the bar.

The noise was overwhelming at first and the lights too
glaring.  For a moment he thought of the light she'd seen
from the balcony door.  It was a common phenomenon
according to the research the guys had helped him dig up.

He was surprised at the women that hit on him.  It looked like
some of them could have him up on statutory rape charges if
he took them up on it, even pedophilia in a couple of cases. 
He wasn't interested.  If Dana didn't show up here, he'd have
to try again tomorrow.

Almost as he had the thought there was a disturbance at the
door.  He turned in that direction, seeing the flash of
photography and then some faces he recognized from his
computer search.  And there, that red hair . . .  She had
come.  She already had a drink, she'd come inside with it. 
Maybe little things like legality didn't matter in this crowd. 

She left the drink on someone's table and moved to the
dance floor.  He couldn't recall the name of the man she was
writhing around but it didn't matter.  He moved in that
direction, watching her.

The outfit she was 'wearing' was for attention.  It looked like
there was probably a full foot of material in it.  It was
probably high fashion and no doubt expensive, but it wasn't
her.  None of this was the woman he had worked with.  He
had to believe the one he knew was the real one.

He couldn't get next to her; she was protected by the crowds
so he stopped.  "Dana."  He didn't say it loud, didn't call it
over the music, but she turned anyway.  Her eyes narrowed
slightly and she moved toward him.  She was dancing
around him, rather than with him.  He stood still, his eyes
narrowed as she used him like a pole.  That particular
description was becoming more apt than he wanted to admit. 
"Stop this."

She hesitated, then stopped and looked up at him.

"Dana."

She dropped her head and leaned against him.  "Get me out
of here."

He didn't wait for a second invitation, scooping her against
him and heading for the entrance.  There was some protest
from her hangers-on, but they seemed to have been drinking
even more heavily than she.  Once they were outside, he
tried to shield her from the paparazzi's cameras and hurried
into a cab.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"Just get us out of here for now and lose the riff raff if you
can."

The driver grinned and nodded.  Mulder turned back to
Dana, who had sunk back into the seat.

"Here."  He slipped his leather jacket off and placed it around
her.

"Thanks," she whispered, but continued to look out the
window.

He turned back to the driver and gave him an address.  She
didn't even bother to ask where they were going.

When the cab pulled to a stop, Mulder opened the door and
got out, holding out his hand for her.  After a brief hesitation
she took it and stepped out of the cab.
He paid and the cab took off before she spoke.

"Where are we?"

"My place.  It's not as nice as yours, but there're no
photographers around."

She looked up at him but didn't speak.  He took her arm and
led her to the elevator inside.  She still didn't speak, but
stood passively at his side while he unlocked the door.  He
let her precede him inside and locked up again.

"What was that about?"

"What?" she asked, still looking around and, he was aware,
avoiding him.

"I thought you didn't care for the party scene."

She shrugged. 

"You didn't return my calls."

"I thought you'd be relieved; one more crazy off your rolls. 
You can spend your time with the patients that have a
chance of being cured."

He just looked at her then, not speaking.

She moved on into his apartment, looking around.  It looked
like a nice place, small, but nice.  "Who's your decorator?"

"Is that what you want to talk about?  Fine, my sister."

"So what would you like to talk about?"

"Why were you at that club?"

She shrugged.  "It's familiar.  I know what's expected of me
and what to expect of others."

"What do you expect of others?"

"Absolutely nothing." She faced him then. 

"I called you."

"I know.  You got my check?"

"Yes."

"I never received the tapes."

He turned then and opened the briefcase beside the table. 
He dug four tapes out of a pocket and dropped them on the
table.  "I did some research," he said quietly as she turned
away.  "I learned a lot about the alien abduction phenomena. 
You aren't alone.  There's actually quite a bit of information
out there and what you saw is classic.  There's not a lot of
physical evidence.  People that experience it don't always
head straight to a doctor. There are things that do show up,
physical changes, but - "

She was staring at him now.  "You, you investigated . . . "

"I should never have dismissed what you were remembering
like that.  I know better.  You caught me off guard."

For a long moment she just stared at him, then she sank
down onto his couch.  "You believe me?"

"Yes."

"Do, do you remember me telling you that I was in a coma
after Charlie was taken?"

He nodded.

"I went to see my doctor.  He's treated me since I was a
child.  I told him I needed shots for a trip.  I asked about the
coma and if he'd ever figured out why I was in one.  He said
the tests had been botched and by the time he knew it, I was
awake.  Father got me out of there and they weren't redone."

"I don't - "

"When he was out of the office, I took the pages."

"You have them?" The excitement in his voice caught her
attention.

"I couldn't figure out what they said.  I went on-line - "

"The people I've been working with might be able to decipher
it.  If you could make copies, we could make sure all
references to you are blacked out."

"Why?"

"I let you down.  I didn't mean to and I want to fix it."

For just an instant he thought he saw a yearning in her eyes,
quickly hidden.  "I'll get a cab.  I can bring it to you
tomorrow."

"We have more to talk about.  Why don't you get
comfortable?"

"Here?"

"We won't be interrupted."

"I, I can't get comfortable in this." She gestured to her outfit.

"No, I guess you can't."  His focus wasn't on the dress.

"It's not for getting comfortable.  It's for being seen."

"Then it worked."

Her head went up, her color rising.  "A new designer wanted
to get her name out there.  She asked someone I know if I
would wear it."

"You don't have to explain - "

"I know I don't.  I. . . " she shook her head.

"Would you like to change out of it?"  He held up his hand to
forestall her protest.  "You can borrow my robe."

"Is it pink?" she asked, managing to keep her face straight.

"Plaid, gray and blue," he responded with narrowed eyes. 
"It'll look good on you."

She rolled her eyes, but turned toward his bedroom.  Once
she was out of sight, he headed for the kitchen alcove and
put on a pot of coffee.

He turned when he heard her return.  The robe was way too
large for her and hit her at the ankle.  She had combed out
her hair and washed her face.  She looked years younger
and a lot more relaxed.

"That smells good."

"It's not Kona Blue, but I like it."

"I'm sure it's fine."  She reached for the cup and took an
appreciative sip.  "It tastes like my Grandma."

"Excuse me?"

She grinned.  "My mother's mother.  It reminds me of her. 
What kind is it?"

"Maxwell House."

Her eyes widened.  "That's it!  Somehow I thought you'd be
a Starbucks kind of guy."

"I grew up with Maxwell House.  Come on, have a seat.  Tell
me what you found."

They talked for a long time.  He started to ask yet another
question when he saw her stifle a yawn.  "Have you been
sleeping?"

"Some."

"But the nightmares didn't go away."

"No."

"Stay here tonight."  She blinked.  "Like the other night.  You
can have the bed.  I'll sleep out here.  You need some rest;
some real rest."

"I suppose . . . "

"You'll be safe here."

She looked him straight in the eye for a long moment. 
Finally she nodded.  He realized he'd been holding his
breath and let it out with a chuckle.  "Let me get ready for
bed, then you can have the room."

"Thank you."

He winked at her and went to get ready.

Her eyes appraised him appreciatively when he returned
wearing jogging shorts and an old t-shirt with a hole near the
hem.  "I think everything you'll need is in there.  Just yell if
you can't find something."

It looked like she was going to speak, but instead she turned
away and shut the bedroom door behind her.

He stretched out and picked up a book.

*****

The nightmare jolted her awake.  It wasn't as bad as some
she'd had, but she knew she couldn't get back to sleep.  She
rose from the bed and wrapped his robe back around her. 
He'd taken the time to look into her story.  He hadn't dropped
her and he hadn't released the tapes to the public. 

She opened the bedroom door from the bedroom quietly and
spotted him asleep on the couch.  There was a book on the
floor beside him.  He was on his back, one arm up over his
head, the other across his chest.  He looked so peaceful.

The impulse was strong.  Maybe if she hadn't still had
alcohol in her system she would have tried harder to control
it.  Hell, she wasn't his patient anymore and even he said
she needed her sleep.

She quietly joined him on the couch, cuddling into his side. 
His arm came around her and he settled further back on the
couch with a soft grunt, giving her room.  She smiled and let
her eyes close.

He woke the next morning to find himself nuzzling her hair. 
What the - oh shit.  "Dana?"

She muttered a sleepy protest for a moment, then woke,
realizing where she was.  "Uh, Dr. Mulder."

"What're you doing out here?"  He didn't sound friendly, his
voice rough with sleep.

"I had the nightmare.  I, I wanted to sleep."

He had extricated himself by now and was standing over
her.  Her eyes scanned down and he saw them widen.  He
turned abruptly and headed for the bedroom.

When he returned, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, she had the
coffee made.  She turned and looked up at him.  "I'm sorry. 
Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm more angry with myself.  That was totally unprofessional
and - "

"You're not my doctor anymore.  Remember, I fired you and
I'm paid in full, unless you're planning to charge me for last
night's session.  You don't have to be professional.  I, I
thought we were friends."

"We are friends, but I still shouldn't have slept with you in my
arms."

"I'll need some instruction on that.  I've never had a friend;
not a real one.  What would we do together?"  She handed
him a cup of coffee fixed as he liked it and took up her own. 
She followed him back to the couch.

"Are you kidding, about what friends do?"
 
"Not really, not as much as I'd like to be.  What do friends do
together?"

"Well, you hang out together, go to the movies, eat, things
like that."

"But you and I couldn't do that, could we?  I mean, if we did
you'd be all over the tabloids and . . . "

"Not necessarily."

"Where could you and I go, besides here and my place that
we wouldn't be followed?"

"I know a place," he grinned.

"Wait a minute; did I just rope you into asking me out?" She
looked appalled.

"No, and it's not a date.  Friends can just be together.  I think
you'd enjoy what I have in mind."

*****

The Root of All Evil - part 5


"Are you sure this is okay?"  She looked over at him again as
he parked in front of a well-lit house.

"Yes.  I told them I was bringing a friend."

"But did you tell them it was me?" she insisted.

"I told them a lady friend.  Okay?"

"No," she wailed.  "I'll ruin it."

"How can you ruin it?  We're just here for dinner.  She'll still
be my sister; the kids will still expect to climb all over me. 
Relax, Dana."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Come on."  He exited the car and moved around it to open
her door.  She already had it open, so he took her hand. 
"Breathe."

She glared at him, but complied and they walked hand in
hand to the door.

It was Samantha who opened the door.  She'd obviously
been watching and Mulder could see she was less than
pleased when she recognized the diminutive woman at his
side.

"Sam," he stopped on the porch, "I'd like you to meet Dana
Scully."

"Ms. Scully," Samantha held out her hand.  There was
coolness to her tone that caused Mulder's eyes to narrow.

"Please, call me Dana."  Samantha nodded and stepped
back, giving them access.  Mulder shot her a warning look,
but she seemed to ignore it.  There was an uneasy silence
until Chrissy raced into the foyer.    

"Uncle Fox!"  She skidded to a halt when she saw the
woman beside him and immediately ducked behind
Samantha's legs.

"Chrissy, come here.  There's someone I want you to meet."

She cautiously looked out and when she saw Mulder's arms
opened to take her, she rushed into them.  He picked her up
and settled her on his hip.  "This is a friend of mine, Chrissy. 
Her name is Dana.  Can you say hello?"

"Hi," she said quickly and ducked her head into Mulder's
neck.

"Hi.  Mulder's told me a lot about you.  You're his best girl,
aren't you?"  At that the little girl looked up and smiled,
nodding.  "You look like him, with those lovely eyes."

John joined them then, carrying Billy.  "Are you going to
stand in the entry all night?  Hi, I'm John and this is Billy."

"Pleased to meet you."  She shook John's hand.  "Billy, hello. 
Aren't you the fellow that Chrissy taught how to walk?"

"I did!" Chrissy was now scrambling out of Mulder's arms. 
"Wanna see?"

"Yes, please," Dana smiled at Chrissy.  John dutifully put the
boy on his feet and Chrissy took one of his hands.  "See,
he's gettin' real good at it."

"He's going to be running in just a few days.  You did a great
job," Dana agreed with the girl.  Chrissy beamed at her.

"Take his other hand, he can walk faster then."  Dana did as
she was bade, and the three of them moved toward the
family room.  John looked between brother and sister and
decided to follow them.

"What is your problem?" Mulder hissed at Samantha so that
no one could hear.

"Now I know why you didn't tell me who your 'friend' was,"
she retorted just as angry.  "I don't want people like her here. 
She's trash, Fox, expensive trash."

"Fine, we're out of there."  He started to follow the others
when Samantha took hold of his sleeve.

"No, don't cause a scene."

"Me?" he gaped at her.

"Just, just eat.  We'll get through the evening."

"I don't want to just 'get through the evening'.  Dana is a
friend of mine and if you can't treat her as such, I'm not
putting her through it."

"Why did you bring her here?"

"Because there's no place we can go and just relax and be
with people that don't judge her, or want to use her for
something.  I thought she'd be safe here." 

Samantha stepped back from his vehement whisper.  "Fine,
come on."

"Will you be civil?"

Samantha ignored him and headed for the family room. 
Dana was on the floor with the kids, being shown toys and
keeping a hand out for Billy's support if he needed it.  She
smiled up as the two joined them.  "They're precious.  I'd
forgotten what it was like to be around children."

"They can be handful," John said with a smile as he nodded.

"But so worth it.  I'm remembering when Charlie was just a
baby."  She smiled at some happy memory and Mulder
relaxed slightly.

"Who's Charlie?" Chrissy touched her arm and took a seat
beside her on the floor.

"My little brother.  I haven't seen him in a long time."

"Why not?"

"He went away.  Maybe I'll see him again someday.  I'd like
to."

Chrissy nodded and picked up a ball that had gotten away
from Billy, handing it back to him.

"I'll, uh, I'll get dinner on the table," Samantha spoke
abruptly.

Dana looked up.  "May I help?  I can't cook," she laughed,
"but I pour a mean glass of water or tea."

"Oh, uh, everything's done, really."

"Okay."  Dana turned back to the children.  Mulder shot
Samantha a wary look and she sighed.

"Well, if you don't mind, you could get the ice for the glasses
while I take up the roast."

"I'd be happy to.  I probably can't mess that up, but we'll
see."  With a wink and smile, Mulder reached down and took
her hand as he helped her to her feet.  Samantha turned
away, with a resigned sigh and headed to the kitchen.

"She can be a slave driver, Dana.  If you need any help, you
call me."

"I think I can manage on my own, but thanks."  She followed
Samantha to the other room.

"The glasses are on the counter," Samantha offered,
motioning with a tilt of her chin.

Dana made no move toward them.  "I'm sorry I was a
surprise.  Mulder thought this would be a place we could just
be normal.  We're not dating, but we are becoming friends."

"That's what he told me."

"And that concerns you," Dana sighed.

"Fox is an adult.  His choices are his own."

"Well, you don't have to worry about anything.  He's much
too good for me and I know it.  He's just being a friend to me,
teaching me how to be a friend.  I'll make sure not to
surprise you with any future visits."

"That's not - "

"It's okay.  Let's just not upset your brother.  He's a very
good guy."

"Yes, he is.  I don't want him hurt."

"You don't have to worry about that from me.  I'm not going
to be in a position to hurt him, but even if I were, that's the
last thing I would do."

Samantha thought about that for a long moment.  "I'm not
sure you're right about that, but I appreciate you saying it."

Dana forced a smile and moved toward the refrigerator.  She
filled the glasses while Samantha took up dinner in silence. 

Finally Mulder couldn't stay away and joined them with
Chrissy in tow.  "Hi, what's taking so long?"

"Just waiting for the rolls to brown.  Why don't you get Billy in
his high chair?"

Mulder hesitated for a moment, but neither woman spoke, so
he turned back to the dining room.  When they were all
there, Chrissy started to take her regular seat beside Mulder. 
"Uh, Chrissy, why don't you let Dana - "

"No.  If that's Chrissy's usual seat, I'll just sit over here with
Billy."

"That might not be a great idea," John stopped her.  "Why
don't you sit here?"  He held his chair at the head of the
table.

"Nonsense, I want to sit across from Chrissy and next to
Billy.  I don't get the opportunity to enjoy kids very often." 
John shrugged and held the chair as she slipped into it.

"You can send us the dry cleaning bill," he added with a
chuckle.

She smiled and slipped the napkin into her lap.  Mulder
helped Chrissy fill her plate and everyone dug in. 

Chrissy looked up at Dana after she'd eaten a few bites. 
"Are you Uncle Fox's girlfriend?"

"Chrissy - " Samantha immediately started to chastise the
child.

"Well, I'm a girl," Dana agreed.

"And she's definitely my friend," Mulder joined in.

"No, that's not what I mean." Chrissy rolled her eyes at her
uncle.  She turned back to Dana.  "Do you kiss him?"

"Uh, no, I haven't," Dana responded with a blush.

"You should." Chrissy nodded to herself as she took a carrot
onto her spoon.  "Momma says he's a hunk."

John's coughing didn't quite cover the laugh.  Mulder glared
at him.  "Chrissy, that's grown up stuff."

"I know, but I can tell you really like her.  You should kiss her
too."

Mulder closed his eyes.  He wasn't going to win this one. 
Finally he opened his eyes to see Dana smiling, though her
color was now a bright pink.  "I'll get back to you, okay?"

"Okay," Chrissy agreed and focused on her meal.  Billy
decided to join in then, offering Dana a mushy carrot.

"Thank you," she said seriously as she took it from him.  She
pretended to put it in her mouth and he laughed.  "Now the
question is, does he like me enough to share or does he not
like carrots and this was a way to get rid of one?"

"He loves carrots, so I'd say you're in with both the kids,"
John chuckled.

Mulder looked over at Samantha.  She was taking another
sip of wine and not joining the conversation.  His mood
dipped a notch but he was pleased to see that Dana was
handling herself well.

In fact it was her charm that kept the conversation going. 
She and John were getting along well and Chrissy kept
things lively.  Samantha joined in just enough not to be rude.

Everyone helped with taking the dishes back to the kitchen
and Mulder was getting ready to offer to fill the dishwasher
when Chrissy grabbed his hand.  "Will you read to me?"

"Sure.  Go get on your pj's and I'll be right up."

"Dana too?"

Mulder looked up at Dana.  She smiled.  "I'd love to."

*****

After that they spent more and more time together.  They
avoided the clubs, instead frequenting the small hole-in-the-
wall pizza parlors and movie theaters.  They also spent a lot
of evenings at each others' apartment, eating in and
watching videos, and as they became familiar with each
other, making out on the couch became a favorite pastime.

They hadn't moved into the bedroom yet and Dana was a
little concerned that he hadn't pushed for more.  Maybe it
was because he had been her doctor, and maybe that was
the reason she hadn't pushed for more herself.

On the other hand, it was nice taking it slow; nice that he
wasn't pressuring her.  They were friends; she was learning
that and her trust of him increased daily.  He really seemed
to enjoy just being with her, not asking anything of her but
her company.  They had conversations about everything,
from aliens to Shakespeare.  His education had been on par
with hers, prep schools, college and medical school at Duke. 
The difference was he hadn't wasted his, getting the most
from his scholarships and fellowships, and graduating at the
top of his class.

As they grew to know each other, she found her confidence
growing both with him and in herself.  That was definitely a
new feeling and she relished it.  He believed she was a
strong, capable woman.  With him she believed it as well. 
For the first time she felt as sure of his feelings for her when
they were apart as when they were together.

*****

The smell of smoke caught her attention.  Mrs. Church had
opened the door for the visitor, but Dana moved to the top of
the stairs to see who it was. 

It was him, the smoking man.  Dana carefully slipped her
phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures of
him.  Then she put the phone back and started down the
stairs.

"Thank you, Mrs. Church."  The older woman nodded and
left them alone.  Dana looked up at the man.  "May I help
you?"

"I'm here to see your father."

"Father isn't home right now.  I'm sorry, but we don't allow
smoking in the house.  If you would please put it out."

He just looked at her for a moment, then took a long draw on
the cigarette.  As he exhaled, he snuffed the cigarette out in
one of the antique bowls on the entry table.  Dana said
nothing, just watching him.

"I believe I'll wait for him."

"I don't know how long he will be."

"He knew I was coming by.  I'm sure he'll be here shortly."

Dana nodded.  "Fine.  If your addiction demands that you
have another cigarette, please smoke it outside."

The man's eyes narrowed then, but he made no comment. 
"I understand you're seeing a new therapist."

Her pulse increased, but she stood her ground.  "Excuse
me?"

"Is that instead of rehab?"  She started to turn then but he
continued.  "You should be careful about remembering
things that can't be changed.  That might make things worse
than they are.  You might want to think about that." 

She looked him directly in the eye.  He nodded to her and
without another word she left him standing in the foyer.  He
smiled as he drew out another cigarette.

*****

Mulder knocked at her door and waited.  She opened it
quickly and motioned him in.  The expression on her face
concerned him.  "You okay?"

"He was there today, at the house."

"Who?"

"The smoking man!  He came to see Father."

"And are you okay?"

"It was . . . he was scary.  I took his picture."

"What?"

"I wanted you to see him."  She reached in her sweater
pocket for her cell phone and pulled the picture up.  She
turned it toward him.

"He's no Brad Pitt," Mulder offered.

She rolled her eyes.  "That's not all.  He smoked a couple of
cigarettes, after I asked him not to."

 "Asserting his authority?"

"Probably, but I took the butts."

"You did what?"

"Yes," she pointed to the baggy on the counter.  "Since I
can't seem to get a name for him, I thought it would be nice
to be able to get DNA to go with the picture.  Don't worry, I
didn't touch them.  I used a tissue to pick them up."

"If you really want to know, you could ask your father his
name."

"I thought you didn't want me to talk to Father."

"Yeah, I don't; but this is a little extreme."

She shrugged.  "I'm going to hold onto it anyway."

"Remind me not to tick you off.  You'd make one hell of a
stalker," he grinned and followed her toward the kitchen.

*****

Dana let herself into the house and dropped her bag beside
the table in the foyer to look through the mail.  She looked up
when she heard footsteps on the marble.

"Father?  I didn't think you were home.  I was going to stay
with Mother."

"My meeting was canceled.  Do you have a minute?"

"Of course.  Is everything okay?"

"We just need to talk."  He led her to his study and to her
surprise, shut the door behind them.  He took a seat behind
the desk and she mentally rolled her eyes.  So, he was
planning on using intimidation.  She seated herself in front of
him and waited.

"This new psychiatrist you're seeing - "

"Where did you hear - no.  I'm not discussing him with you. 
If you want to talk, tell me the name of the smoking man; the
one that came to see you yesterday."

Her father drew back slightly before he could stop himself. 
"Why would you want - "

"Why would I want his name?  The name of the man you
conspired with when Charlie was taken.  You allowed it; you
let him work with the others to take him."

"O-others?"

She pointed up toward the sky and he blanched.  "The
aliens, Father.  You know, it's kind of nice to know you can
be frightened of something; as frightened as I was that night
when that gray creature came into our room with those
pebble-y fingers and huge unblinking eyes and touched me."

"Dana!" The man quickly glanced around as though checking
to see who was listening.

"Yes, I remember now.  I remember that man coming here
and the fight you and Mother had that night."

"Dana, we can't talk about this.  Your memories aren't - "

"Aren't real?  What's his name?"

"Stop it!  We are not going to - "

"Right, we're not going to talk about it.  We can sweep it
under the rug like we have the last fifteen years!"  She rose
abruptly and started for the door.

"Dana, don't.  You need to drop this."

"Drop it, just drop it?"

"It's for your own good.  Listen to me."

"Why?  Why should I listen to a man who would allow
something like that to happen to his son; his baby son?  Can
you explain that to me?"  She stood there for a moment
waiting, but he made no response.  Finally she turned away
and left him.  She didn't see him drop his face into his hands.

She grabbed up her purse from the entry and hurried to her
car.  She forced her hands to quit shaking and started the
engine.  She drove straight to her apartment.  Mulder had
warned her not to get into this with her father, but she'd lost
it.  Her father was telling her not to remember!  And he
hadn't denied his involvement.  He hadn't even denied the
existence of aliens.  She let herself into her apartment and
collapsed on the couch, her energy drained.

Maybe that hadn't been the smartest move, but how could
she just walk away?  She still didn't know the SOB's name
and now she probably never would.

Mostly she wanted to talk to Mulder.  He was busy tonight,
but he'd said he would call when he got home from his
meeting.  She'd just have to wait.  In the meantime, she was
going to protect the evidence she had.  Her safe was difficult
to get to, but it was the best place to keep the pictures she'd
printed off and the cigarette butts.

Once she felt better about the safety of her evidence, she
heated up some leftovers.  She didn't want to go out, even to
pick something up.  She needed to talk to Mulder.  She
couldn't stop the smile that grew on her face.  That was
happening more and more often lately.  Fortunately he
seemed to feel the same way. 

*****

The Root of All Evil - part 6


She woke the next morning on the couch, having fallen
asleep while she waited for Mulder's call.  That was strange;
first that he hadn't called and second that she hadn't had a
nightmare.  She'd have bet heavily on a bad one last night.

She hesitated only an instant, then picked up the phone to
call him.  He needed to know what had happened.  Maybe
he'd gotten in so late that he hadn't wanted to disturb her. 

When his machine picked up she felt her first twinge of
unease.  He should be home at this time of day.  Maybe he
was in the shower; she left a short message for him to call
her.  She'd give him fifteen minutes.

When she tried again and got the machine she knew
something was definitely wrong.  She had no evidence, but
she could feel it in her gut.  Even if there was some good
reason he wasn't at home, he'd have made a point of
keeping his promise to call.  The last thing he'd want was for
her to be worried about him.  She quickly dressed and
headed for her car.

His car was there, but there was no answer to her knock so
she headed back down to the super's apartment.  The
middle aged man, heavyset and balding, opened the door
and whatever he'd been about to say stuck in his throat
when he obviously recognized her.  She seized the
advantage.  "Do you know who I am?"

He nodded. 

"I need to check on Dr. Mulder, apartment 42.  He's not
answering his phone or the door and I'm afraid something's
happened to him.  Would you please let me in?"

"Uh, yeah, okay.  Just a minute."  He grabbed up his keys,
hiked his pants up and followed her back to the elevator. 
"I'm Stan.  Are you, uh, seeing Dr. Mulder?"

"We're friends."

"Yeah, okay."  He didn't seem to know anything else to say,
so he shut up but continued to gawk at her for the entire ride,
which seemed to take forever.  She hurried from the elevator
as soon as the doors opened and rushed to his apartment. 
The super took his time, but finally stood beside her at the
door.
"Uh, you know, I'm not sure - "

"I won't go in alone.  You're here.  I'm not going to take
anything, I just want to make sure he's not in there hurt or
something."

"Yeah, right.  Okay."  He slipped his key into the lock and
opened the door.  He stepped inside first, but she pushed
around him.

"Oh my god."  There had obviously been a struggle.  She
spotted what looked like blood on the corner of the coffee
table and grasped for composure.  "We have to call 911."

Stan reached for the phone but she stopped him. 
"Fingerprints.  We'll use mine."  She withdrew her cell phone
and punched in the emergency number.  Once she was
assured the police were on the way, she turned back to the
older man.  "I'm going to wait here.  If you have anything you
need to do . . . "

"I'll wait with you.  It was a weird night, and I don't feel right
leaving you here alone."

"Thank you.  What do you mean, weird?"

"It was just one of those nights.  A little after 10 the power
went out - "

"You had a blackout in this area?" she asked quickly.

"No, just this building.  That was part of the weirdness.  I
looked out the windows and all the buildings around still had
power.  I headed down to the basement with my flashlight,
you know, to check the fuses and while I was down there . . .
I know there ain't no earthquakes in New York City, but it
must have been one hell of a truck that drove by.  Then,
without me doing nothin' the lights come back on."  He shook
his head. 

"You, you said this happened around 10?"

"Yeah, I was watchin' the fight."

She nodded, distracted now.  After she had talked to her
father . . .  oh god, what had she done?

The police didn't take long to arrive though it seemed that
way to her.  They took her statement and Stan's and
because of the disarray, called in a crime scene investigative
team.

"What should I do?" Dana cornered one of the plain clothed
men that arrived.  She was tired of standing in the hall, being
told nothing.

"Well, you need to let these people do their work.  There's
not a whole lot to do until we can find some evidence.  Do
you have numbers for his family?  Maybe he was able to
contact them.  We need to contact them ourselves."

Dana nodded, but she knew with a certainty that shook her
that she was the person he would have called if he could.  "I
have his sister's number, but please, may I talk with her
first?  She shouldn't hear this . . . "

"Okay, but, I'll need to talk to her too.  Here's my card.  Have
her call me."

"Of course.  Thank you."  They were herding her out of the
place now.  Damn it, she needed to do something.  Her
shoulders drooped then -- Samantha.  She already didn't like
her; hearing this from her would only make that worse, but
she couldn't let her hear this from a stranger.  She took the
elevator down and jerked back at the presence of a man
entering the car before she could exit.  It Stan was motioning
her to step back.  "What?"

"There's a bunch of photographers out there."

"How?  How did they know I was here?"

"I don't know, ma'am.  They were there when I got
downstairs.  Do you want to go out the alley?"

"I can't.  My car's out front."

"Oh, sorry."

An idea suddenly came to her and she turned back to Stan. 
"Is one of them short, sleazy looking with a ponytail?"

"Uh, yeah, he was over to the side, keeping an eye on some
Lexus."

"My car.  Yes, that would be him."  She dug through her
purse and found an old receipt and a pen.  She scribbled
something on the back of the paper and squared her
shoulders.  "I'll be back.  Thank you for your help."

"Oh, sure.  If you need anything . . . "

Dana nodded and squeezed his wrist by way of thanking him
and headed for the door.  The flashbulbs started
immediately.  She headed toward her car, ignoring them. 
She spotted the photographer she was looking for.  He was
a jerk, always yelling for her to look at him, wanting more
and getting too close for her comfort.  He'd actually caused
some friends to be in an accident, chasing them for 'that
shot'.  He was doing it again now.

As she got to her car, she fumbled her keys, dropping them
to the sidewalk.  As she had anticipated he reached down,
blocking her and preventing her from picking them up
herself.  He smiled his smarmy smile as he offered them to
her.  He could use some dental work, though the small
diamond in his front tooth had to be his own idea.

"Thank you," she said icily and took them, leaving the receipt
in his hand.  He glanced down, then crumpled the paper so
that no one else would see it.  He slipped back away from
the others.  She got into her car and drove off without a
backward glance.

She headed for her apartment.  She needed to get in touch
with Samantha.  After locking herself in, she pulled out her
PDA and found Samantha's number.  If she wasn't at home .
. . no, don't borrow trouble. 

Samantha picked up on the third ring.  "Hello?"

"Samantha, it's Dana Scully."

"Uh, Dana, yes?"

"Have you heard from Mu-Fox today?"

"No.  He's probably at work."

"No, he's not.  I'm afraid there's a problem."

"Problem?  What are you talking about?"

"Fox had a meeting last night.  We didn't see each other, but
he was supposed to call me when he got home.  He didn't
and I fell asleep.  This morning I tried to reach him and when
I couldn't, I went to his apartment.  His superintendent let me
in his apartment - "

"You broke in?"

"Not exactly, and Stan was with me.  Samantha, there had
been a, a struggle.  We called the police, but, but Fox seems
to be missing."

"Missing," she repeated the word as thought she didn't
understand it.  "What kind of struggle?"

"The police were still working there when I left.  I didn't want
to get in the way.  The detective gave me his number.  He
wants you to call him."

"I'm coming down.  I have to call Mom and Dad and find
someone to keep the kids - "

"Samantha, you're too upset to drive into town."

"I have to - "

"Let me send a car for you.  That will give you time to make
arrangements for the children and you won't have to worry
about driving or parking.  Samantha, please, let me do this."

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then
"Thank you, yes.  I, I'd appreciate it."

"Call John, get yourself together.  We're going to find him."

"Ye-yes, we will.  I need to go."

"Of course.  Let me give you my cell phone number, 646-
555-8540.  Make a note of it.  You can always reach me at
that number."

"Dana . . . thank you."

"I'll see you in a little while.  Go on now."  Dana heard the
call disconnect and closed her eyes.  She had more to do.

She hurried to her bedroom and shoved the loveseat aside,
then lifted the rug and exposed the safe in the floor.  She fed
in the code and opened it.  She pulled out one copy of the
picture of the smoking man and slipped it into her bag.

She drove over the Mulder's office and parked in the garage. 
This might be stupid, but she needed to do something and
she knew one of the things this man wanted was anonymity.

She spotted the photographer when he pulled his car into
the slot across from hers.  His car chugged to a halt finally
and she heard the door creak as he opened it.  She took a
deep breath and stepped out of her car.

"I didn't know whether to believe you or not."

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Lowry."

"Call me Pete.  'I need a favor, meet me in the parking lot
where you got the shots of me and the mystery hunk'.  How
could I resist?"

"That's what I was counting on," she said dryly.

"What's going on?"

"The mystery hunk, his name is Dr. Fox Mulder - "

"Fox?"

"Do you want to hear this?"

"Sorry, sure, go ahead."

"Last night he was abducted from his apartment.  That's why
I was over there; I called the police."

"And?"

"And I know who was responsible, but I have no proof.  He's
not going to come forward and I want him flushed out."

"I still don't know what you want from me."

She pulled the picture from her bag.  "I want his picture
everywhere.  Can you get it in the papers, with a message
that he's wanted for interrogation in connection with Dr.
Mulder's disappearance?  I want it everywhere."

"If I do this favor, what do I get?"

"When Dr. Mulder is returned, I'll give you an exclusive photo
shoot of the two of us."

Pete appraised her slowly.  "Why do you think this guy was
involved?"

"I'm not going into that.  I just know it.  Can you make him
famous?"

"What's his name?"

"I haven't been able to find out."

"Are you kidding?"

"No.  Are you going to help me?"

Pete looked down at the picture again, studying it.  "Where
was this taken?"

"I don't want anyone to know that.  Can you disguise the
background?  Make it anonymous?"

"This is important to you."

"Yes it is.  I want Dr. Mulder returned, unharmed.  This man
can do that, I'm sure of it."

He eyed her for a long moment.  Finally he tucked the
picture into his pocket.  "Yeah, I can do it.  I have some
people that owe me.  I'll be in touch."

"Thank you."  She turned then and got back in her car.  He
was still standing there watching her as she pulled out.

*****

The driver brought Samantha to Dana's apartment.  Dana
was waiting downstairs and brought her up immediately. 

"Have you heard anything?" Samantha asked as soon as the
door was closed.

"Nothing.  We need to go to the station.  They want to talk to
you too.  Have you talked to your parents?"

"Not yet, John thought . . . I wanted to have all the
information.  They're going to be devastated."

Dana nodded, not sure what to say.  She told her then about
everything that she had found that morning.  Samantha was
pale when she finished, but quiet.  "Is John coming?" Dana
asked.

"Not yet.  He'll keep the children."

"You're more than welcome to stay here tonight.  You don't
want to have to commute back and forth to the city.  I'll
arrange for a car to take you home tomorrow."

"I can't impose."

Dana looked away for a moment.  "We need to get to the
station.  I know you're anxious to find out everything you
can."

Samantha searched her face.  "You're in love with him."

"What?  I, we're friends."

Samantha didn't respond, so Dana picked up her bag.  "The
driver is still downstairs.  It's easier that way."

Samantha nodded and followed her to the elevator.

The interview at the station told them little more, but
Samantha realized that with Dana there, at least they were
taking it seriously.

*****

They returned to the apartment hours later, exhausted
mentally if not physically.  Samantha sank down onto the
couch.  "I can't believe this.  Why Fox?  All those questions
about enemies, former patients . . . " She shook her head,
then let it fall back on the couch.

Dana remained silent.  Her guilt level had risen steadily, but
then she was used to dealing with that.  She only had
suspicions about those answers, but she couldn't bring them
up, not yet anyway.  "Do you think you can eat anything?"

Samantha looked over at her.  "Do you cook?"

"No," Dana gave her a small smile, "but I order with the best. 
I'll have them send something up from downstairs.  Any
dietary restraints?"

"No, just something light though.  I'm not hungry."

Dana nodded and moved to the phone.  When she hung up
she turned back to Samantha. "It'll just be a few minutes.  Do
you want to freshen up?"

"Please."

"Through there.  Yell if you can't find what you need."

Samantha seemed to appraise her for just an instant, then
rose and disappeared into the guest bath.  If her eyes were a
little red when she emerged, Dana made no comment.  She
hadn't cried yet; fear kept her from it.  If she started, would
she be able to stop?  Samantha's words came back to her. 
'You're in love with him.'  Was it true?  She didn't know
anything about that particular emotion.  His company made
her feel warm, safe and, and happy.  That was
unprecedented as far as she was concerned.  Her memories
of past relationships seemed to focus on want, need,
jealousy, and one-up-man-ship.

The food arrived then, so Dana set about putting it out on the
table.  She'd ordered two steak Caesar salads.  Samantha
nodded and took a seat at the table.  She tasted the salad
and nodded.  "This is just what I needed.  Thank you."

"I'm glad to do it.  I wish I could do more."

"You don't - "

"It's a fine line with me.  I don't want you to think I'm trying to
buy your friendship."

"Do people expect that of you?"

"Some do.  Some want me to," she sighed.

"And what category do you put me in?  Are we friends?"
Samantha asked, taking another bite.

"I think . . . not yet, but I hope we can be.  You're very
important to Mu-Fox."

"I wasn't very nice to you when he brought you to the
house."

Dana shrugged.  "That's kind of understandable.  I didn't
take offense.  You didn't, you don't know me.  If all I knew
was what I'd read . . . I wouldn't let me in the house."

"That's not . . . but I am sorry.  Fox is important to me too. 
It's not a requirement that I be friends with a woman he
wants to date - "

"I believe it is, Samantha, whether you realize it or not."

Tears filled Samantha's eyes.  "He's my big brother.  I adore
him."

Dana nodded and squeezed the other woman's hand.  "I
know you do and I don't blame you.  He talks about you all
the time.  The kids are the light of his life."

Samantha nodded.  "I've always thought he'd make a great
father."

"I'm sure he will someday.  We are going to get him back,
Samantha.  We have to."

Samantha nodded and Dana watched her gather herself and
turn back to her meal.  They ate in silence then.  When they
were through Samantha helped her clean up then they
headed for the couch.

"I have a Jacuzzi, if you'd like to relax, or some wine - "

"Thanks, no.  I wish I thought I could sleep."

Dana shook her head.  "Contrary to published reports I don't
have much here that will help you; maybe some Tylenol
PM."

Samantha chuckled then.  "How about some warm milk?"

"Now that I can do.  Why don't we get in our jammies and
meet back here."

Instead of rising Samantha took a long look at Dana.  "You
know, I think there is a chance we could be friends."

"Thank you."

*****


The Root of All Evil - Part 7


The next morning Dana left Samantha asleep while she went
for their breakfast.  She walked to a coffee shop nearby,
stopping at the newsstand on the way to pick up a paper.  
Pete had come through.  The smoking man's picture was on
the front page of at least three of the papers.  She bought
each of them, and asked the man running the stand if he had
seen the man in any of the other papers.  He was able to
point out a couple more, so she bought them too.  She
tucked them under her arm and hurried to get breakfast for
herself and Samantha.

*****

The call was unexpected.  "It's Pete.  What the hell have you
gotten me into?"

"What?  What are you talking about?"  It took Dana a
moment to realize who she was talking to.  "Pete?  Is this
about that picture?"

"You know damn well it's about that picture.  Who the hell is
he?"

"I told you, I don't know.  What's the problem?"

"I'm getting death threats!  They know where I live.  This guy
some Mafia boss or something?"

"No, I think he works for the government somehow, you
know, behind the scenes."

Pete groaned.  "He's a king maker?  Oh Jesus."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't act naive.  You know this damn country is really run
by a fucking shadow government.  Hell, your old man is
probably one of the deep pockets that keeps them in power.  
That would sure explain how he's been able to keep all that
money he's got."

"I don't understand."

"Come on, you're no damn blonde.  You have to know your
father's connections . . . oh shit.  This man is one of those
connections, isn't he?  What the hell have you gotten me
into?"

"Look, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean - "

"You have to meet me.  We have to talk.  You're going to
have to get me some protection, get me out of town or
something."

"I don't - "

"You don't have a choice," Pete hissed.  "So far no one
knows I got that picture from you.  It won't stay that way if I'm
trying to save my hide."

"Okay, where?" she agreed quickly.  If getting him out of
town would keep him quiet, it was worth it.

"Uh, you know the alley behind O'Riley's?"

"I can find it."

"Meet me there at nine.  It'll be dark then."

"All right, but you keep quiet about me giving you that picture
or you can forget any help."

"Fine.  Tonight," he broke the connection and she sank into
the chair by the phone.  Damn.

Well, there was no way she'd go to that neighborhood alone
at night, but she knew she had to go.  She called for a car,
then opened her safe.  She took out an envelope of cash,
then on impulse wrapped one of the butts in a tissue and put
it in her pocket, making sure she didn't touch it herself.  
Maybe he'd know someone who could check out the DNA.  If
he was as paranoid as he sounded, he'd know people.

She wanted Mulder.

Fortunately the driver on duty that night was one she'd used
many times before.  When she gave Tim the address, he
turned to look at her.  "Are you sure Ms. Scully?  That's not a
place you should be going."

"I know.  I don't want to go, but I need to meet someone.  
This is where he said we had to meet.  I think he's trying to
stay out of sight."

"All the more reason for you not to go."

Dana smiled then.  "I'll have you with me."

He shrugged and held the door for her to enter.  She was
glad she'd specified the smaller car.  In the dark, it wouldn't
stand out like one of the limos she normally favored.

They were quiet on the way.  Tim could tell Dana was
nervous, but whatever she was doing here was none of his
business.

When he pulled up to the corner, he parked.  "Do you want
me to go with you?"

"No, but please wait for me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Ms. Scully.  Not until you're back in
the car safe."

"I won't be long."  She let herself out of the backseat,
motioning for Tim to remain seated.  He shook his head but
didn't try to dissuade her.  She squared her shoulders, gave
him a shaky smile and headed into the alley.  His smile
disappeared as soon as she wasn't looking.  This wasn't a
good idea.

She headed down the alley, keeping quiet, her eyes and
ears alert for any movement.  Her flashlight wasn't
illuminating that much.  When she reached the end, she saw
a fence lined with trashcans.  Where was he?  There were at
least two businesses with back doors that opened up to the
area.  "Pete?" she whispered, but there was no answer.  She
was right on time; had he tricked her into coming . . . her foot
hit something and she swung her flashlight down.  Oh God!  
It was Pete.  She backed away quickly, her flashlight
illuminating more of the . . . the body.  Oh god, what had she
gotten them into?  She took a couple more steps back,
moving her flashlight around the area.  She couldn't see
anyone but she needed to get out of there fast!

Without really thinking about it, she drew the cigarette butt
from her pocket.  With a bravery she hadn't known she
possessed, she approached the body again and dropped the
butt beside him.  Then she turned and ran back to the car.

"Tim!"

He was out of the car immediately and grabbed her arms as
she ran toward him.

"What!  Is anyone - "

"Call 911!  The man I was supposed to meet, he's lying on
the ground back there.  I, I think he's . . ."

"What?  Is he hurt?"

"I think he's dead.  There was a man, but he jumped over the
fence."

"You saw it!  You could have been hurt!"

"I don't think he saw me."

"Get in the car - "

"We can't leave.  Call 911."

Reluctantly he nodded and pulled out his cell phone.  

There had obviously been a car nearby, because the police
were there in minutes.  She got out of the car when they
arrived.  No crowd had gathered since there had been
nothing to hear.

"You placed a 911 call?"

"Yes.  I, I was supposed to meet someone here tonight and,
and when I got here I saw him on the ground.  I think he's
dead, back, back there.  I think he was shot," she pointed.  
The policeman closest to her narrowed his eyes.

"There's a body back there?"

"Go!  Check him out, maybe he's still alive.  I didn't, I didn't
touch him."

"Wait here.  Don't leave."

She shook her head.  The two policemen hurried,
disappearing into the alley where she'd pointed.  Quickly one
of them returned and called for transport of a body, then
turned to the two of them.  "Tell me what happened."

"Tim didn't see anything.  He waited here in the car for me,"
Dana stepped forward.

"And what were you doing here?"

"The man back there, his name is Pete Ruzicka.  He's a
photographer."

"Paparattzi you mean."

She nodded.  "He called me and said he had some pictures
of me he thought I should see."

"Blackmail?"

"That was my first thought.  I needed to find out, so I asked
Tim to bring me here.  When I went back there I saw a man
standing over something.  He didn't see me but I knew he
was too tall to be Pete."

"You knew the victim?"

"I've seen him often enough."

The policeman nodded and motioned for her to continue.  "I
didn't hear anything, but the man that was looking at him lit a
cigarette from the one he was smoking and dropped the old
one beside the, beside the body.  Then he stepped up on
something and went over the fence.  When I knew he was
gone, I moved closer and realized he had been standing
over Pete.  I didn't . . . I ran back out here and asked Tim to
call you."

The cop took notes, then turned to Tim.  "What did you see?"

"Nothing.  I didn't go back there.  I didn't want to leave Ms.
Scully alone."

"Okay.  We've got someone from homicide on the way."

"I think I should get Ms. Scully home.  You have her
statement.  Can't they question her tomorrow, or even
tonight, but not here?  I want to get her out of here before
the press shows up."

"I can't let you leave the scene."

"I understand that, but under the circumstances - "

"I'm not planning to leave town," Dana interrupted.  "If I give
you my unlisted number, you can reach me at any time."

The cop looked over at Tim, who nodded.  "She'll be here
when you need her.  Ms. Scully's class."

"I have to search you.  Make sure you aren't carrying a
weapon or have one in the car."

"Now wait a minute - "

"Tim, it's okay.  I'm not carrying a weapon.  I don't mind if he
checks."  She removed her coat and handed it to him, then
her purse.  When he was through he returned the items to
her and checked the car.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to frisk you and your driver."

She took a deep breath and looked over at Tim.  He didn't
look happy and stepped closer to protest.  "You get out of
line . . . " The threat was clear.

"I know my job.  I don't want to offend Ms. Scully, but it could
mean my job if I don't do this."

Dana nodded at Tim and he nodded but didn't step back.  
When the officer was through, he frisked Tim as well.

"Can we leave now?" Tim's voice was frosty.

"I won't let you down," Dana looked up at the officer.  "Have
the detective call me tonight.  I'll be in my apartment the rest
of the night."

Finally the cop nodded.

"I need your name and how to reach you as well," she
reminded the cop.  They exchanged information, then Tim
hurried her into the car and took her home.

He walked her to the elevator.  "Are you going to be okay,
Ms. Scully?  Wouldn't you rather I take you to your parents'
home?"

"No.  I appreciate it, Tim and I'm so sorry I got you involved
in something like this.  I want to be at my place tonight.  
Please let me know if you need anything, if they give you
any trouble . . . "

"I'll be fine.  You need to let me know if you need anything."  
She nodded and squeezed his hand.  He pushed the button
for the elevator and waited until the doors shut behind her.

She let herself in and locked up behind her.  The windows
were locked as well, though she didn't worry too much about
cat burglars.  She checked her bedroom; the loveseat and
rug hadn't been disturbed, so she was going to assume that
no one had been here.  She needed Mulder.

Without realizing it was her intention, she picked up the
phone and dialed Samantha's home.  John answered.  "Hi,
it's Dana.  I was . . . I just - "

"Yeah, I know.  We haven't heard anything."

"I figured you hadn't, but I wanted to check in."

"Did something happen?"

"I, I don't want to bother you."

"I'm going to be in the city tomorrow.  I have an appointment,
then I was going to go by the police station and see if I could
push a little.  Would you be free for an early dinner?"

"Yes, please.  Why don't you come here?  We can have
privacy.  That can be hard to find when I'm around."

"I remember.  I'd like that.  I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, John."

She had just hung up when the phone rang again.  "Hello?"

"This is Detective Paschall.  Is this Dana Scully?"

"Yes, sir.  I'm glad you called."

"You shouldn't have left the scene."

"I understand, but I'm available to speak with you.  Would
you like to come here?"

"As a matter of fact I am here; downstairs."

"Please, come up to the 5th floor.  I'll meet you there."

"Thank you.  We're on our way."

She was outside of the elevator when it opened.  "I'm Dana
Scully.  Please come inside."

The two detectives, Paschall and Audra, followed her inside
and took the seats she offered.  "It's late, but would you like
some coffee?"

"No, thank you.  We just wanted to get your information
down while it was still fresh."

"Of course.  I told Officer Tomlinson everything I saw."

"Yes, if you could go over that again please."

She told the same story she had told the officer earlier.  "You
saw the shooter throw down a cigarette?"

"I saw a man standing there throw down a cigarette.  I didn't
hear a shot or see a gun.  I only saw the flare of the cigarette
when he lit the new one from the old one.  I didn't even
realize he was standing over a body at that time.  But he
dropped the cigarette and went over the fence."

"Was he running?"

"No.  He got over the fence but he didn't vault it, not like an
athlete."

"Could you tell an age, race?"

"White, tall, an adult.  I'm sorry."

Detective Audra spoke, "You went to meet this photographer
because he was blackmailing you?"

"I went to meet him because he called and said he had
pictures.  He didn't mention money or selling me anything.  I
went to see what he had.  Things like this have happened to
friends of mine.  Did you find any pictures?"

"No."

"Do you think the other man might have taken . . . "

"We have no way of knowing that."

She sighed.  "So I wait and see if some doctored
photographs are posted on-line or show up in some tabloid."
 
"I'm sorry.  I suppose that's always a worry for you."

She nodded.  "What else do you need from me?"

"Nothing at this time.  We appreciate you seeing us this late."

"I was glad you called.  I didn't want to wait until tomorrow,
but Tim was so concerned about getting me home before
more photographers showed up."

"It was good of him to worry about you."

"Yes, it was," she said with a ghost of a smile.  "Do you think
you'll be able to find the person that did this?"

"We have some evidence that we're processing."

"I'm sorry.  Of course you can't . . . Is there anything else I
can do?"

The men took it as dismissal and rose.  "We'll be in touch.  If
you're going to be out of town, please let us know."

"I have no plans to travel at this time."

Detective Paschall shook her hand and she escorted them to
the door.  Once they were gone she locked her door and
leaned against it trying to force herself to relax.  Maybe
being thrust into the media all her life wasn't all bad.  She
was on edge, which was normal for having found a dead
body, but not guilty.  They couldn't know she had left
evidence.  She didn't know if the smoking man had killed
Pete, but he was involved.  She was sure of that.  And now
they'd have his DNA to check if they were ever able to locate
him.

*****

Dana opened the door for John and hugged him when he
came inside.  That surprised him a little, but he returned the
hug.  "Dana?  You okay?"

"I don't know.  Did they have any news?"

He shook his head.  "I'm worried about Bill and Teena.  This
is so hard on them."

"I know.  Come on in."  She took his coat and led him to the
kitchen area.  "Wine?"

"No, I have to drive home and it makes me sleepy."  He
grinned at her.  Then he noticed that her hands were
shaking slightly as she poured him a glass of tea.  "What's
going on?  Talk to me."

She set the pitcher down and looked up at him.

"Dana?  What's wrong?"

"Sit, we should eat.  You have a long drive."

"Okay, but talk to me while we eat."

She nodded and set the meal on the table.  Watching her he
took his seat and at her urging began to eat.  She played
with her own meal and at his insistence started talking.

As she told him what she had done, the picture, the DNA, his
meal was forgotten as well.  "I don't believe this.  Dana, you
could be in danger.  If you're right, they killed that man
because of a picture you took.  Are you sure it can't be
traced back to you?"

"I don't know.  The smoking man didn't know I took the
picture.  The one that was published in the papers had the
background taken out.  There was no credit given for the
picture, I checked.  I've heard Pete worked off the books as
much as possible.  He made more that way.  There's no
reason for the police to check, but even if they do, there's
not enough to identify my parents' foyer.  The police don't
know about any connection between the picture and me, or
between Pete and the picture for that matter."

"Do you still have it here?"

Dana nodded and rose.  She hurried to the office and
brought the picture and the baggie holding the second
cigarette butt back to the table.  John picked up the picture
and perused it carefully.  Finally he nodded, placing it back
on the table.  "I think you're right.  There's no art work to
identify it.  The door frame could be anywhere."  He picked
up the baggie then.  "So this has his DNA?"

She nodded.

"If he is what you think he is, it will be easy for the evidence
to disappear.  I have some friends, guys I've worked with,
that could do more than the police, quicker and make sure it
won't vanish easily."

"Would they be in danger?"

"They're pretty good about keeping a low profile.  Fox met
with them about something before he disappeared.  He
trusted them."

"Then I can too.  If you give them this, will you make sure
they know how dangerous it can be?"

"I promise.  Now, you should eat something."

"Thank you."

"Fox thinks a lot of you.  He'll be back.  You have to believe
that."

Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes.  "I do."

John reached across and squeezed her hand, then urged
her to eat again.  With him there, she managed to eat a few
bites.  He left a little before eight and promised to be in touch
after he had handed the information over to his friends.  Her
loneliness grew exponentially when he was gone.  Part of
her felt better for having the picture and the cigarette out of
her home, but there was guilt that these unknown friends of
John's might be in danger.  Finally exhausted she fell asleep
around three only to be awakened in a couple of hours by
her nightmare.  

Where was Mulder?  What were they doing to him?  Had she
made it worse?  She'd had no doubt that horrible man was
involved, and she was even more convinced now.  She had
gotten Pete killed for helping her.  As odious as the man had
been to her and the people she knew, he hadn't deserved
that.  It was a long time until dawn.

*****

The time dragged and the police had no leads.  John's
friends had the information, DNA and picture on the web, but
the links to it were unavailable for now.  

Frustrated she made her way to her parent's home, and
without warning walked in on her father in his study.  He
looked up startled as the door opened and quickly blanked
the screen of his computer.  "I didn't know you were home."

"I came to see you.  You know the doctor I was seeing is
missing.  I believe your friend is responsible."

"What friend?  I don't have thugs as - "

"'Smoky'.  I believe he arranged for the same 'friends' that
took Charlie to take Dr. Mulder."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Dana.  No one - "

"Dr. Mulder was taken the same way Charlie was, the lights,
the shaking.  Aliens took him and Smoky led them to him.  I
want him back, I want them both back safe and sound."

"Excuse me?"

She took a step forward, her voice low and vehement, "You
can reach him; I know it.  Tell him I can keep his information
secret if he has them return Charlie and Dr. Mulder."

"What information?"

"His picture, his DNA.  It's on the web; it can be removed,
but I want them back."

"Dana, you can't be . . . You think that I - "

"Don't bother, Father.  I want them returned.  You know this
man, contact him."  She turned then and left the house.

*****