By Donna
donnah@donnas-stories.com
 

URL -  http://www.donnas-stories.com/
Rating - R
Category - AU
Spoilers - None
Keywords - AU, MSR
Summary - While Mulder was profiling, what if Scully was
the case?
Feedback - Please
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know so that I can visit

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

Sisters Remembered - part 1

He squatted beside the body and watched as the CSI turned
her.  She was a young woman, late twenties, red hair.  He
looked closely at the back of her neck.

 "Is she one of his?"

 "Yeah."  Mulder took a deep breath.  Another one and he
was no closer.  This woman fit the profile of no profile.  The
last one had been a man, nearly sixty.  His neck snapped.  A
disturbance at the front door caught his attention.

 "What's going on?  This is my apartment.  What are you
doing here?" A feminine voice reached him.

Mulder rose to his feet.  The victim was supposed to be the
tenant, that's what they'd told him.  He moved to the door
and saw another young red headed woman; there was
definitely a resemblance to the corpse.  He withdrew his
badge and stepped up to the officer that was keeping the
woman from entering.

 "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder.  Did you say you live here?"

 "Dana Scully, yes, this is my apartment.  What's going on
here?"

 "Could we speak out here for a minute?"  It wasn't a
request, and he took hold of her elbow.  He led her a few
steps down the hall from her door, away from the sight of the
CSI team working.

 "What's wrong?"  She was obviously torn between fear and
anger.

 "May I see some ID?"  She was watching his face and
scrambled in her bag to find her wallet.  He looked at it
quickly and returned it to her.  "Dr. Scully, do you live here
alone?"

 "Yes."  She looked up into his face and saw the compassion
there.

 "What's happened?"  Her voice shook slightly.

"I'm afraid there's been a murder.  We were led to believe
that the victim was the tenant, you.  Can you give me your
whereabouts for the last several hours?"

 "Yes, I was at work.  I'm a doctor at Georgetown Memorial.
My shift started at 7 a.m.  Please, what - "

He glanced at his watch, nearly 4 p.m.  "Your neighbor
reported a disturbance that occurred around 7:30 this
morning.  Unfortunately, she didn't report it until after 10
a.m.  I only arrived a little while ago.  What time did you
leave?"

 "Si-six thirty.  There's, there's someone dead in my
apartment?  Who, who is it?"
 "From the description, we thought the woman was you.  She
has no ID on her."

Her face paled.

 "I'm sorry, but do you think . . . we need an identification of
the victim."

She nodded and seemed to stiffen her spine.  He admired
that, she was such a tiny little thing.  He felt like he loomed
over her, but she hadn't backed down or pulled away.

He walked her into the main room of her apartment and she
felt a certain comfort from the old fashion courtesy of this
man's hand on her lower back.  Mulder looked over at the
CSI and nodded.  The man gently unzipped the black bag
that rested in the middle of the room and lifted the cover
from the face.

The gasp caused Mulder to tighten his grip on her.  "Missy!"

She turned then and covered her face.  His arms went
around her as her knees buckled.  He supported her into the
bedroom, which had already been cleared, and sat her on
the bed.

 "It can't be!"

 "Put your head down."

 "I'm f-fine." She demurred.

 "Put your head down anyway."  He gently pushed her head
down between her knees and she didn't fight him.  Shortly
her breathing became less labored and he helped her to sit
up.  Tears were streaming down her face.

 "Who's Missy?"  He asked gently.
 
"Me-Melissa, my sister."

He nodded slightly, that explained the resemblance.

 "She's not even supposed to be here.  I didn't know she was
in town."

 "Does she have a key?"

She nodded and took the tissue he handed her.  "I gave it to
her when I moved in.  She, she moved around a lot.  I
wanted her to always be able to feel wel-welcome here.  Oh
god."

 "Dr. Scully, this is not your fault."

 "I need to call my family.  Mr. Mulder, I need to call . . ." A
sob escaped her then.
Mulder closed his eyes for a second.  "Mulder."

 "What?"

 "Just Mulder.  There's been a, a mistake made here.  Based
on the location and description, your sister was identified as
you.  Your parents have already been notified.  They're on
their way."

Her hand covered her mouth then.  "They think, they think
I'm dead."

He nodded, thinking quickly.  "Dr. Scully, based on what we
have here, there's a possibility that you were the target."
She looked up quickly and he found her hand in his.  "It's just
a feeling, but I think we should get you out of here.  I'll take
you to a secure location.  As soon as your parents arrive,
they'll be informed - "

 "And that will make it better how?"  She looked down and
wiped her face again.
The CSI tapped on the door, "Agent Mulder?"

Mulder looked over at him and nodded, giving permission to
remove the body.  The younger man slipped away, leaving
them alone again.

"I'm sorry Dr. Scully, I really do want to get you out of here
and someplace safe."
She didn't seem to hear him.  "You need to get some things
together; you might be away for a few days."

She looked up then, "What?  I can't, I can't leave.  My family
- "

 "Dr. Scully, I need you to focus.  I know this is a terrible time
for you, but I want you to be protected.  Please, pack a bag."

She looked at him, obviously confused.

 "You are the first break we've had in this case.  I'm going to
take you somewhere we can protect you.  And you might be
able to help us catch this guy before he harms anyone else."

She finally met his eyes and saw that he was serious.  She
rose to her feet with his help and after a moment of
uncertainty, turned toward her closet.  She pulled out an
overnight bag and laid it on the bed.  He moved to the door,
giving her some privacy and pulled out his cell phone to
report to his A.D. and make arrangements.

In a few minutes she squeezed past him and entered the
bathroom.  He turned to look at her room, it looked
comfortable.  The walls were pale green and she had a
couple of impressionist paintings on the walls.  Her furniture
was warm oak.  There was a queen size bed, dresser and
chest of drawers, holding a jewelry chest and some
photographs.  A small upholstered chair was at the window;
the fabric picked up the color in the art.  Her bedside table
had several books stacked on it, the only 'clutter' in the
room.  It was a strange collection - medical journals, a
fashion magazine, a Sherry Tepper novel and one by Dean
Koontz.  She had packed slacks and sweaters.  He couldn't
see below the top layer and didn't move closer.

 "M-Mulder?"

He turned and gave her a nod, squeezing her arm.  He let
her past him to finish her packing, then he lifted the suitcase
off the bed.

He led her from the apartment and into his car.  "I'm taking
you to the Hilton Towers."

 "When can I talk to my parents?"

He looked down at her with regret, "Not for a while."

 "But I - "

 "I know, I'm sorry.  This is for your protection."  She realized
his hand was on her lower back again.  He opened the door
and seated her in his car, then placed her suitcase in his
trunk.  He slipped behind the steering wheel and started the
engine.  She didn't look at him, staring out the passenger's
window.

At the hotel, Mulder checked in, keeping her at his side.  She
had come with him, but he still wasn't sure she understood.
She was quiet, too quiet.  He led her to the elevator and on
to the room.  He checked out the bathroom, looked around
the room, then set the suitcase on the low cabinet.

She didn't speak; just let herself into the bathroom.  He
watched her make her silent way.  She was holding it all in
and he was concerned.  She had no reason to talk to him,
but until they could get a team together, he was all there
was.
He wasn't good with people, not on this level.  He knew that.
He did okay with women, they seemed to like being with
him.  He'd been taught lovemaking by an expert, but in a
case like this . . .

He jerked to attention when the door opened and the small
redhead returned to the main room.  She'd washed her face,
combed her hair.  "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head.

 "There will be a team of agents to stay with you."  He
wanted to reassure her.   "A female agent will spend the
night, and - "

 "I have to stay here over night?"

 "Uh, yes, maybe several."  She sank onto the foot of the
bed.  "I'm sorry.  I won't bother you; I'll just sit over here and
look through my notes.  The TV won't bother me, if you want
. . . "

She seemed to nod.  He ached for her, losing a sister hit a
little too close to home for him, but she didn't seem to want
to talk.  He pulled out the chair at the small table and opened
the file he had brought inside.  After glancing over at her
again, he spread the photos of the victims out to look at
them once more.  What had he missed?  What was the
connection?  How many times had he looked at these damn
pictures?

He lost himself in the information, as so often happened on
these cases.  There was a reason, but the only thing that
linked them was the cause of death.  They had all been
killed by bare hands, brute strength.  And then the wound.
Post-mortem the killer had sliced into the back of their
necks.  It made no sense.  There were no trophies taken, the
wound was too small to be more than just a signature, but
why?  That's what he couldn't figure.

 "Is that the others?"  He jerked back to the present at the
sound of her voice close behind him.  He immediately
pushed the photos into a neat pile and flipped them over.

 "Yes."

 "I'm sorry.  I just . . . I can't, I need to do something."

He nodded; this would drive him up the wall.  "You're a
doctor?"

She hesitated then shrugged.  "I don't blame you for
doubting it.  I haven't acted - "

 "This isn't a case, it's personal.  You've been great under
trying circumstances.  What uh, what kind of doctor are
you?"

She gave him an ironic half smile then, "I'm a pathologist."
He blinked at that.  Not at all what he'd expected of such a
diminutive woman.  She caught his shock.  "I get that a lot."
She said dryly.

 "I'm sorry, it's just a surprise."

 "I know; I'm used to it."  She sighed.  "I wonder if my parents
are here yet."

 "I wish I could let you speak with them.  I know they'll be
devastated."  He rose and placed a hand on her shoulder.
He felt awkward; where was the female agent they were
going to send?  "Without knowing how he targets his victims,
I need to keep you out of sight."

 "I wonder if they'll be . . . "

 "What?"  He gave her his chair and took a seat on the foot
of the bed.

 "Missy is, was a 'free-spirit'.  She hadn't been in the family
for a long time.  It was her choice; they would never kick her
out.  She rebelled against the military life a long time ago.
Dad's Navy.  It was hard, we moved a lot.  The boys didn't
seem to mind, but Missy didn't adjust as well.  Neither did I
to be honest, but she went . . . I guess you'd say 'hippie'.
She never held a job for more than a couple of months.  She
experimented with drugs.  I don't think she ever asked our
parents for money, but she came to me a couple of times.
That's why I gave her my key.  I couldn't think of her as
homeless."

She looked up at the ceiling for a moment.  "Why was she
here?  She had to need something. And coming to me cost
her . . . "

He leaned forward and took hold of her hand, massaging it
lightly.  "This wasn't your fault.  A sick person came into your
apartment and did this.  If she hadn't been there, he would
have killed you."

 "But if he was after me - "
 "No.  You can't take that on.  And maybe, with your help, we
can catch this guy; find out who he's after next."

 "I could help find him?"  She asked slowly.

 "I imagine you do that a lot in your job.  Forensics is a big
part of what you do.  This isn't exactly the way you're used to
assisting the police, but . . . " he shrugged.

 "May I see the photos?"

 "Are you sure?"

After a moment, she nodded.

He rose and spread the pictures out on the bed.  These
weren't the crime scene photos, just pictures the victims'
families had given them.  The more gruesome ones were at
his apartment.  He had those memorized.  With these he had
wanted to see the person, not the victim.

 "Do you recognize anyone?"

She stepped closer and looked over his shoulder.  She was
quiet as she looked at the faces.  Finally she shook her
head.  "I don't know any of these people."

 "That's been the problem.  There's no connection between
the victims.  It's hard to profile when there's nothing to go
on.  Age, sex, occupation, location, nothing in common
about their lives.  Only their deaths."  He shuffled the
photographs together again and tucked them in a file.

 "How about something to eat, Dr. Scully?"  He picked up the
food service menu.
 "Just Scully."  She tried a weak smile at her quip and he
returned it.  "Room service?  Can't we go - "

 "You're in protective custody.  We can't expose - "

 "We don't have to leave the hotel.  Couldn't we eat in the
dining room?  I'm going crazy here.  I just need a little air.
You'll be with me and only the FBI knows where I am."

Mulder looked her over; she was under tremendous stress
with only him to lean on.  "You'll stay at my side?"

 "I promise."  There was no irony in her voice; she found she
felt safer close to him.

He settled his gun more firmly in his holster, then opened the
door, checking the hall.  He motioned for her to move to his
side.  Again his hand settled on the small of her back and
she felt some comfort.

They rode down the elevator, picking up people as they
descended.  There were a lot of people in the lobby.  Mulder
took her arm and led her toward the dining room.

He was on guard, looking around the lobby.  There were
more people than he had expected.  He was ready to tell her
they had to return to the room when her arm was jerked from
him.  He glanced up to see a large man pulling her away.
The man hadn't been there just a second ago.  Scully
blinked, startled then began to struggle.

 "Let her go!"  Mulder had his gun in his hand.  The other
people in the lobby froze, then began scrambling away.  The
man looked at him and Mulder aimed the gun higher, both
arms stiff in front of him.  "FBI, let the woman go."

The man sneered at him, then looked around the lobby at
the crowd that was watching him.  Without warning he
released her and shoved her toward Mulder, then he
plunged into a thick clump of people.  There was screaming
and yelling, a couple of people lost their footing in the melee
as Mulder lunged after him.

He wasn't there.  Mulder hadn't seen anyone go out the
door, but the man was no longer anywhere to be found.
Mulder returned to her side to find security flanking her.
"Thanks."  He moved her away from them after flashing his
badge.

 "Are you all right?"  He did loom over her now as though
protecting her with his body.

 "Was that him?"  She was breathless, but she seemed in
control.  She was a lot stronger than she looked.

 "Yeah, I think it was."

 "He would have killed me.  How did he know we were - "

 "That's what I want to find out.  Come on, let's get your
things.  We're getting out of here."

 "But they - "

 "We'll talk about it in the car.  Come on."  He hustled her
back into the elevator and pressed seven.

She threw the few things she had removed back into the
suitcase and he grabbed it up, rushing her from the room.
She hurried to get into the passenger side as he threw the
bag into the back seat.

She was quiet until he took a turn off the highway, toward
the airport.  "We're leaving town?"

 "Yeah."

 "But - "

He held up his hand and surprised, she kept quiet.  He
pulled into long-term parking.  She exited the car when he
did and watched him grab her bag from the back.  He
opened the trunk and took out his own bag and they moved
toward the terminal.  She turned toward the ticket counter,
but he stopped her.

 "This way."

She didn't have a lot of choice, but she was becoming
frustrated now.  "What are we doing?"  She finally hissed at
him.

 "We're getting a car."

 "We have a car."

 "Trust me, please."  He stopped and looked down at her.
After a moment she nodded.  "Stay close to me."

He walked up to the counter and smiled at the attendant.
She immediately returned the smile and Dana's eyebrow
rose.  "How can I help you?" She cooed at him.

For some reason that bothered her more than she knew it
should.  He was her protection, nothing more, but he had
been kind to her.  His reactions protecting her, keeping her
safe regardless, had startled her.

The attendant was a tall woman, probably 5'8", with long
dark hair.  Now she was leaning toward him, giving him a
better view of her ample cleavage as well as her name
badge.

Finally he felt comfortable.  This was a role he played often.
Women liked to look at him.  None of them knew him and
that was fine.  He just needed a car to get her to safety.
"Kaitlen, we'd like a car.  Sorry, I didn't think to reserve one
before we arrived."

 "That's okay Mr. - ?"

 "Hale, George Hale.  We'll need it for a week."

 "Of course.  Here on business or pleasure?"

Mulder put his arm around Scully and smiled at the
attendant, "Pleasure."

Her smile dimmed ever so slightly.  "Full size?"

 "Do you have anything sporty?"  He smiled full wattage at
her and Dana watched her respond to it with eyes
narrowed.  The woman seemed to have forgotten she was
even standing there.

 "Let me check."  Kaitlen turned to her computer and very
shortly looked back over at Mulder.  "I have a Mustang that
might fit the bill."

He gave her another smile, "that would be great."

Kaitlen returned to her computer, then she handed him the
printout.  "What credit card do you want to use?"

Mulder pulled out his wallet and handed over a card.  Dana
kept quiet.  When the transaction was recorded, Kaitlen
came out from behind the counter and to Dana's surprise
began to lead them to the door.  She'd never gotten that kind
of service.

Just outside the door, Kaitlen began to give Mulder
directions to pick up the car and he listened attentively.  She
finally seemed to remember Dana and looked in her
direction if not directly at her.  "I hope you have a nice
vacation, Mrs. Hale."
Dana nodded silently.  As they were ready to walk off, a red
Mustang convertible drove up.

 "Now that's what I was talking about.  Any way we could
switch?"  That smile again.  Dana wanted to slug him.

 "Well, I guess we could.  It hasn't been cleaned."

 "Not a problem.  As long as there's gas."

 "We'd have to redo - "

 "Could you handle that for us?  We'd really like to get on the
way."  He touched the brunette's arm and Dana watched her
relax as she leaned closer.

 "I guess I could."

 "Thank you.  I hope you're on duty when we return it."

 "I work evenings Wednesdays and Thursdays, and I'm here
during the day Monday, Tuesday and Friday."  She glanced
over at Dana once again as though just remembering her.

Dana mentally shook herself.  The desire to claw the
woman's eyes out was totally out of proportion.

 "I really appreciate this, Kaitlen."  Mulder took the keys and
opened the trunk, loading both of their bags, then opened
Dana's door.  She slipped in without a word.  He winked at
the brunette and moved smoothly around the car.  They
pulled out toward the exit to the highway.

He glanced over at Scully, but she was staring out at the
passing scenery.  "You okay?"

She thought of several comments, but settled on "George
Hale?"

 "Sometimes I need to keep a low profile."

 "You have ID in a different name."

 "Uh, yeah."

She shook her head and looked out the window again, trying
to put his reaction to the other woman out of her mind.  That
wasn't important now, why couldn't she focus?

*****

He woke her as he pulled up to what looked like a small
cabin.  It was too dark to see it clearly.

 "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

 "It's okay, I'm actually a pretty boring guy."  He grinned.

 "Somehow I don't believe that."  She didn't smile.  Then she
turned toward the building, "Where are we?"

 "Quonochontaug, Rhode Island."  He responded.  "This is
my family's lake house.  We used to come here when we
were kids.  I haven't been up here in years."

 "It took us a long time."

 "I took a 'circuitous' route.  We weren't followed."

 "Are you always this paranoid?"

 "Yep."  He yawned, then opened his car door and got out,
stretching.

 "I'm sorry, you must be exhausted."

He shrugged, "Let's get inside."  He took their bags from the
trunk, then used a key from his own key ring to open the
door and tried the lights.  To his relief, they worked.  He
yawned hugely and she looked over at him.

 "Go on to bed, Mulder."

He nodded, too tired to argue.  "Let me lock up."

 "I'll do it."

He started to protest, but she looked up at him, her eyebrow
raised.  He gave her a tired smile and moved toward the
couch.

 "You can't get comfortable there, Mulder."  She turned him
toward the open door of the bedroom.  He sighed and did as
she bade.

"I only need a couple of hours."  He yawned and she
nodded, not bothering to correct him.

 After he left her, she realized the bathroom was in the
bedroom, as well as her bag.  She sighed and made sure
everything was locked, then stepped quietly into the
bedroom.  Mulder was sprawled on top of the bedspread, the
dust sheet tossed to the floor.  He had removed his shoes,
which were on the floor in front of the door, and his suit coat
and tie were tossed across a chair.  He was still in his slacks
and dress shirt, which was unbuttoned half way down.  He
was sound asleep.

She opened her suitcase, withdrew her bag of toiletries and
entered the bathroom.  When she emerged, she glanced out
into the living room and grimaced at the love seat.  The man
was dressed and had been a complete gentleman.

She made her decision, then carefully joined him on the
bed.  He didn't even stir, so she relaxed.  She expected to
lay awake, thinking about what had occurred to her, her
family, since she had first seen this man.  The horror of
seeing Missy like that seemed to be fuzzy now, a defense
mechanism.  Regardless, between the emotion and the
adrenaline, her body decided the nap wasn't enough and
pulled her under.

 *****

Sisters Remembered - part 2

She woke cradled in the gentle embrace of her protector,
pressed against his hard chest.  His chin rested on the top of
her head.  Interesting that she hadn't awakened when he
instituted all of this cuddling.

Carefully she extracted herself and slipped into the
bathroom.  He barely stirred.  She looked into the mirror of
the medicine cabinet over the sink and it hit her again.
Missy was gone, really gone this time - not like the months,
even years she vanished to live whatever kind of life she
chose.  She needed to talk to her parents, but there wasn't a
phone here.  At least the misunderstanding would have been
cleared up by now.  But they had the new worry of having
her vanish into the void.  She took a deep breath; there was
nothing she could do about that situation.  She had to let it
go for now.

She changed into fresh clothes; the shower would have to
wait until she located some towels, then left the bath and
tiptoed out to the main room.

In daylight it looked better, dated but nice.  She opened all of
the windows to let the place air out, then removed the dust
sheets from the furniture.  She worked her way to the
kitchen.  No coffee, nothing in the refrigerator except some
ketchup and it looked suspect.  The freezer had something
in it, but was so frosted over she couldn't make it out.
Maybe she could at least get the ice trays out and refill them.

Searching around the kitchen, she located an ice pick in the
gadget drawer and started chipping away.

The sound of the bedroom door opening caught her attention
and she turned.  Mulder was standing there, scratching his
head, causing his hair to spike in even more directions.  His
eyes still looked half asleep and he was barefoot.

"Scully?"

"Here."  She responded.  "Did you sleep well?"

His eyes focused on her.  "Did I really sleep eight hours?"

She nodded and realized she was admiring him in his
rumpled state.

"I never sleep . . . I don't suppose there's any coffee?"

Scully smiled then, "No.  Believe me, I checked."

He rubbed his forehead, "There's a country store a couple of
miles from here.  Let me find my shoes . . . "

"I put them on your side of the bed."

He stopped then and turned back to look at her.  "You slept
in here?"

She nodded, her chin going up slightly.

"I thought I dreamed that."  He had a little smile on his face
then, but turned away before she could comment.

He returned, wearing his shoes and jingling his keys.  His
shirt was buttoned, hiding the chest she had slept against
and he'd attempted to tame his hair.  "Come on, we can get
a biscuit or pastry or something."

"I could stay here - "

"Nope.  You're still in my custody.  I'm not leaving you here
alone."

She decided not to argue and followed him outside after he
did a quick look around.  "No one knows we're here."

"Habit."  He grinned at her as he held her door open.

She hesitated, "We need to talk."

"After coffee, I promise."

He drove to the little store and pulled in.  There were a few
others there, people visiting the lake, fishermen and tourists.
Mulder found the self-serve coffee pot and poured a cup for
each of them.  She, meanwhile, looked over the pastry at the
counter.

He brought her cup to her.  "Decided?"

"They don't have any yogurt."

"Thank goodness."  He smiled at the young girl behind the
counter.  "I'd like a bear claw."  He looked back down at
Scully.

"I'll have a bran muffin."

He grimaced, but paid for the items and led her to one of the
little tables.  "You're really going to eat that?"  He looked at
the muffin.

"You're going to eat that?"  She countered.

He took a huge bite and winked at her.  She shook her head
and looked around the small store.  There didn't seem to be
anything the store didn't sell, from detergent to worms for the
fishing.

He followed her eyes.  "This place hasn't changed since I
was a kid."

"Were you here a lot?"

"Yeah, Mom brought us up here.  Dad traveled a lot, so
Samantha and . . . "

"Samantha?"

"My sister."  He didn't look at her then, obviously not wanting
to continue.  That puzzled her, but she had no reason to
press him.

They took the long way back, with Mulder pointing out
different points of interest.  Even then it didn't take long to
return to his place.

He let her back into the cabin and looked around.  "You
know, I don't remember it being this small."

"How long since you've been here?"  She asked stepping
into the main room.

"It's been . . . cheez it's been nearly 20 years."

She blinked at that.  "You were just a kid."

"Yeah."  He didn't sound like he wanted to discuss it.

"Why did we come here?"

He hesitated, then faced her.  "He found you.  We were in a
supposedly safe location and he just walked in.  There were
only a handful of people that knew where we were."

"You think someone at the Bureau . . . "

"I don't know what to think, but I'm not going to take any
chances.  You're sure you didn't recognize him."

She looked at him exasperatedly.  "No.  I swear I've never
seen him before."

"Okay, we've both seen him now.  He should be easy
enough to identify." He was making and discarding plans
quickly.

"Why did we change cars?"

He shrugged, "If someone was looking for us - "

"You thought the car was bugged?  That sounds . . . really
paranoid."

To her surprise he grinned, "Yeah.  I guess it does."  He
offered nothing more, but she found herself more intrigued
that ever.

He looked around again.  "I can't believe Dad has left the
power on all this time.  I guess his business manager just
pays the bill.  I'm sure he hasn't thought about this place in a
long time."

"It looks like a nice place to vacation."

"It was.  My sister and I slept up in the loft then, in sleeping
bags on air mattresses."

His sister again, just the mention of her seemed to depress
him.  Was it because of her sister?  She wanted to ask, but
she didn't know this man well enough to ask such questions
despite having slept in his arms the night before.

Instead she took the towel he offered and left him to take her
shower.  When she emerged, he took the bathroom and
finally got the opportunity to change clothes.  She hadn't
seen him in jeans before.  She was surprised at the fact that
he was just as attractive as in his suit.

She shook herself mentally, she wasn't a tall brunette.  He'd
only cuddled her last night because he was asleep, or to
offer her comfort.  Take it for what it was, she told herself
and turned to look out toward the lake.

"Want to walk down there?"  He offered.

"I'd like that."  He touched his gun, now at his back, clipped
to his waistband, then opened the door to the screened-in
porch and led her outside.  They followed the paving stones
to the boat house, then took the path along the shoreline.
She was startled when his hand brushed against hers, then
took hold of it.  She thought of pulling away, but it felt good
and she needed it.  For a change she was going to accept
this.  She so rarely allowed anyone to care for her.  She
knew the support was temporary but it helped.

She caught him looking at a large tree near the path and
moved toward it, pulling him along.  She looked up and
smiled at him, only to see that his face looked strained, his
eyes sad.  His grip on her hand tightened as though he was
drawing support from her.

She followed his look and spotted the carving on the tree.
The word Fox was carved deeper with more skill, but below
it was also the word Sam.  It was shallow, the handwriting
was less sophisticated and his eyes were locked on it.

"Samantha?"

He nodded and started walking again.  Damn, what was it?
This wasn't just support for the loss of her own sister.  She
was beginning to feel like she should ask, but she didn't
know how to get into it.

They had a nice leisurely walk, mostly not talking, though
Mulder pointed out where the diving platform had been and
talked about skiing.  It was easy being with him.  He wasn't
treating her like he had Kaitlen and that made her feel more
special somehow, more real.

Finally they returned to the house and she headed to the
kitchen to make some sandwiches with the supplies they'd
bought earlier.

That's where she was when the front door burst open
without warning.  She whirled in that direction in time to see
the large man they had seen in the lobby of the hotel grab
Mulder around the throat and lift him effortlessly into the air.

Mulder struggled, unable to speak, his hands clawing at the
grip.  The man had his back to Dana.  Mulder managed to
land a telling blow in the man's crotch and he doubled over,
but didn't release Mulder's throat.

Scully immediately grabbed the ice pick off of the counter
where she had laid it earlier that day.  She aimed for his
back, hoping she could at least get him off of Mulder long
enough for the man to get his breath.  His assailant shifted
as Mulder writhed beneath him and her aim was off.  The ice
pick plunged into the back of the man's neck.

She was shocked that she had done such a thing, but her
shock escalated when no blood escaped the wound, only a
green foamy substance emerged.  Her eyes started to burn
as the large man reached frantically at his neck with his free
hand, trying to dislodge the pick.

He released Mulder, searching for the weapon with both
hands now.

Mulder drew in a ragged breath and lurched to his feet.
"Out!"  He managed to croak and grabbed her hand pulling
her out the front door.  They raced to the car and she jerked
her door open, but he had stopped and was watching the
house.

"Mulder?  We have to get out of here!"

"Wait."

The being staggered out of the cabin toward them.  He
seemed to be . . . disintegrating.  He made it nearly to the
gravel driveway before collapsing in the weeds.

They looked at each other, then Scully rounded the car to
check on Mulder, and to be honest, to be closer to him. She
reached inside the car and pulled out their bottles of water,
handing him one.  She washed out her eyes and he followed
her example.

"Be careful.  Your larynx could be bruised.  Are you
breathing okay?"

"Yeah.  I think I'm fine."  He started to approach where the
thing had fallen.

"No!  Don't get close to it."

"There's not a whole lot left of it."  But he stopped as she
grabbed his arm.  He looked down at her; she seemed truly
concerned for him.

"What is he?  What . . . How did he find us!"  Her voice
shook slightly though she felt better knowing he was beside
her.

"I don't know.  No one knew we were here, no one.  The car
couldn't have been tampered with . . . Do you want to go get
something to eat?"

She gaped at him, unable to take in the sudden change in
subject.  "What?"

"We need to let the place air out."  He explained calmly.
"There's a good seafood restaurant in what passes for a
town around here.  Do you like seafood?"

She sputtered for an instant, then "Aren't we going to leave .
. . it, there?"

"After the fumes are gone.  Besides, I don't think my great-
grandchildren will need to weed in that particular area for a
long time."

"And you're hungry?"  She watched him.

He shrugged, "I want to get away from here for a little while."

"He found us again."  She finally said what they'd both been
thinking, not moving toward the car.

"Let's at least get something to drink and then think about it,
okay?"

She accepted finally.  He was right, the place needed to be
aired out because the man had, had melted like the Wicked
Witch of the West.  Was she really awake?  Why did Mulder
suddenly seem charged with a new kind of energy?  What
the hell had she fallen into?  She looked up at him and held
out her hand.

"What?"

"I'll drive.  You can navigate."

"I can - "

"You were just assaulted, choked.  I'll drive."  Besides, she
needed at least the illusion of control.

He stared at her, a little incredulously.  She was ordering him
around?  She didn't back down, meeting his eyes.  After a
moment he nodded and moved around to the passenger
side of the car.  They both adjusted their seats and she
backed out onto the road.

By unspoken agreement they didn't discuss anything in the
restaurant.  She pushed her food around her plate while he
ate with gusto.  He was clearly as excited about what had
happened as she was shaken and incredulous.  Just as
clearly, his throat did not seem damaged.

He asked for a take out box for her food, and they returned
to the cabin in a minimum of time.  There was nothing left of
the man that had broken into the cabin, only a man-shaped
burn in the weeds by the driveway.

They stood looking at it for a long moment, then she turned
away.  He watched startled as she left him and entered the
cabin.  He looked around, then used a stick to take up some
of the dirt to take with him to analyze.  Finally he hurried to
catch up with her.

"What was he?  How did he find us?"  She demanded when
he touched her shoulder, turning her toward him.

"I think . . . I think we were tracked."

"Tracked."  Her eyebrow rose, "in an anonymous car to a
location that only you knew."

He nodded.  "I've been thinking about it.  Remember the
signature wound I told you about?  It's the only thing that's
consistent.  The small, non-fatal, post-mortem wound on the
back of the neck."
 
"What about it?" She demanded.

"May I?" He reached for her neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking a theory."  His hand caressed her neck gently and
his face went completely blank.

"Mulder?  Mulder, what?"  She twisted away from him.

"You have a small scar - " His voice was flat, devoid of
emotion.

"I have what?  No, I . . ." She reached back there herself and
found the tiny scratch where his finger had been.  Her eyes
widened, "What is it?  What is it!"

"I don't know."

"There's something under it."  She felt around, pressing on it.
"Get it out."

"What?"  He backed away a step.

"Take it out.  It's right here, just below the surface.  You can
feel it.  Just a little slit and put on a Band-Aid.  I have what
you need in my bag."

"I'm not a surgeon."  He shook his head.

"It's not surgery.  Just look at it, please."  Her voice wavered
then and he looked miserable.  They stared at each other,
then after another moment, he nodded.

"Thank you."  She whispered and headed for the bedroom.
She grabbed up her bag and brought it back to the table.
She pulled out what they would need and wiped the area
herself with an alcohol swab.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay.  Please."

Mulder hesitated until she looked back up at him.  Those
eyes were so blue and wet.  He nodded, then stilled his hand
and made a tiny cut over the scratch on her neck.  He
dabbed the drop of blood and saw the miniscule black spot
there just under her skin.  He used a piece of gauze and
removed the speck.  He lay it carefully on the table, then
dabbed more alcohol on the cut and covered it with a
bandage.

"What is it, what did you find?"

"I don't know.  Probably nothing more than a piece of gravel
or something."

"Under my skin?"

"Are you okay?"  At her nod, he moved to the breakfront on
the wall outside the kitchen.  He opened the top drawer on
the right and pulled out a magnifying glass.  He returned to
her side and held the glass over the speck.

He blinked and leaned in closer.

"Mulder?"
 
"I, uh . . ." Instead of answering, he handed her the glass.

She took it with a slightly shaking hand, then leaned in
herself.  She straightened up slowly and just looked at him.

"Let me find something to put it in, so we don't lose it."  He
hurried into the bathroom and returned with an empty
prescription bottle and what looked like a white sack.  He
lifted the speck and shook it into the bottle; then dropped the
bottle into a lead-lined film holder and wrapped it around the
small container.  Finally he used the medical tape to secure
it.  She watched him silently.  He shrugged, "Dad always had
these around.  They're lead lined for transporting film
through airports.  He worked for the State Department.  I
don't know that it will do any good, but . . . Scully?"

"It's too small to be a real microchip."

"Is it?"  He asked quietly.

"Why would anyone put a microchip in my neck?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"  She sounded on the verge of hysteria for
the first time.  "A man that can't find us, appears with no
warning, no car!  He's strong enough to pick you up with one
hand.  He bleeds green! With toxic fumes.  And he
disintegrates in your front yard - what the hell is going on!"

Her trembling had turned to shaking now, tears trailing down
her cheeks.  He didn't hesitate; he took her in his arms and
held her tightly against him.  She broke down then, sobbing
into his chest.

She wasn't even aware when he moved them to the couch.
He held her, murmuring soothing sounds, rubbing her back.

Slowly she regained her composure and sank into the
comfort of him for a moment, then finally sat up.  "You
okay?" He asked, watching her face closely.

"Not really."

"You needed that."

She nodded.  "You know more about this than you're telling
me."

After a moment he nodded, "It's not what I was . . . It never
crossed my mind that I was dealing with . . . "

"With what?"

"Aliens."

She stared at him.  "Aliens."  He nodded.  "Men from outer
space?"

He gave her a sideways grin.  "You know anything else that
bleeds green and disintegrates when you stab it in the
neck?"

Her mouth opened but no sound emerged.

"Listen, I don't expect you to be able to take this in, not right
now.  I'm more concerned with how that chip got in your
neck."

"All of the others, they had this chip?"

"I don't know.  But it makes sense.  It's the connection I
didn't see.  I'll bet they were all alien abductees."

"Alien . . . "

He nodded.

"I've never been - "

"Think about it Scully.  Think back, have you ever had
missing time, a lost weekend?"

"Lost - " Her face paled and he moved closer, taking her
hand in his.

"Talk to me, please."

"How did you get involved with . . . There aren't any men
from outer space.  It's science fiction."

"Okay, but what happened to you?  I saw your reaction.
Please, trust me."  The pressure on her hand increased
gently and she looked down at it.

Trust me.  For some reason those words seemed to echo
around her.  She did.  She did trust him.  There was no
reason not to, he had saved her at the hotel; dropped
everything else to keep her safe.  She'd even slept in his
arms last night.  Last night should have been a horror for
her, but with him, she had slept dreamlessly and woken
refreshed.

They had shared an experience, one that she couldn't begin
to explain, but with him there, she hadn't panicked.  Okay,
she still didn't believe in men from outer space, but she did
trust him.

"I wasn't abducted."

"Okay, but what did happen.  Did you have a 'lost
weekend'?"  He grinned at her.

"It wasn't like that.  It was only a couple of years ago.  I had
ended a relationship and some friends decided to fix me up."
She shrugged.  "I wasn't interested.  So they agreed to do a
group thing.  We took an afternoon and drove down to
Virginia for a picnic.  It was a nice place, a mountain with a,
one of those sky trams.  What was it . . . Skyland, Skyland
Mountain.  We had a nice day."

"Was he a nice guy?"

"Greg?  He was okay."  She gave him a sort of smile.
"Anyway, a storm came up.  I remember there was a lot of
lightening, but no rain.  We were headed for the car . . . "

"What?"  Mulder leaned closer.

"I don't know what happened.  I remember the lightening,
then I woke up in a hospital four days later."

"Hospital?"  He touched her arm, "What happened?"

She shook her head, "That's the weird thing.  The others
said I, I disappeared.  Apparently I was missing for those
days.  I don't know what happened.  They said when they
got to the cars, I wasn't with them.  The police were called,
they searched, but . . . "

"Were you . . . hurt?"

"I wasn't molested.  I was in good health.  No one could tell
me how I got to the hospital.  I was just found there.  I
couldn't give the police any kind of statement."

"So, did you ever see Greg again?"

That startled a chuckle from her.  "Uh, no.  And I got my
friends to quit fixing me up."

He absorbed that with a slight nod.

"Are we leaving now?"

"No."  He made his mind up quickly.  "It's late and we've both
had a long day."

She couldn't explain or even admit her relief, but she
nodded.  She turned away as she remembered the feel of
his arms keeping her safe during the night.  Inappropriate,
and she wasn't his type.  That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy
it.

He touched her arm to turn her back to face him.  "You think
I'm crazy."  He was watching her eyes.  "Do you want to
leave?"

"No."  She was surprised to realize she meant it.  She
needed to get home, there was so much to do and she
wanted, no she needed to see her parents, but she also
didn't want to leave.  "It is late.  By the time we got back to
DC, I'd hope that my parents would be getting some rest.
Tomorrow morning is soon enough."

"Thank you."

"For what?"  She asked puzzled.

"For not running screaming in the other direction."  He gave
her a rueful smile.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because most people would.  You've got to think I'm
insane."

"I think you've saved my life; I think you've put your life on
hold to do it."

He blinked at that, but didn't seem to know what to say.
Again she thought of Kaitlin and smiled.

"I do have a question."

He smiled then, releasing her arm and took a seat on the
couch.  He looked up at her, "Okay, hit me."

"Why?  Why do you know anything about aliens?"

"EBEs."  When her eyebrow rose, he patted the seat next to
him.  Extraterrestrial Biological Entities.  Someone has to do
it."

"Mulder . . . " She joined him on the couch.

He sighed then and the smile left his face.  "I . . . my life was
turned upside down by it."

"Your life . . . I don't understand."

"My sister . . . my sister was abducted when she was eight
years old."

She sat watching him, waiting for more.  He sat calmly,
offering nothing more.  Finally she couldn't wait any longer.
"How long was she gone?"

He tried to smile, but failed.  "She wasn't returned."

Her eyes widened and her hand went out touch his arm.  No
wonder that look of sadness had come over his face at every
reminder of the girl.  "Talk to me."  She said softly.  He
looked away, shaking his head slightly.  "Trust me."

That brought his head up quickly.  Her look of compassion
unsettled him; he was much more used to derision on this
subject.  Her hand squeezed his arm and she moved a little
closer.

*****

He had finally wound down, his voice slightly hoarse from
talking so long.  She was now cuddled against him and his
chin rested on her head, reminiscent of their position in bed
this morning.  She didn't know if she believed, or even
understood everything she had heard, but he had opened up
to her.  He had been through so much.  She knew there
were still things he hadn't shared, but somehow she knew he
had been more open with her than with any other woman.

"You still awake?"  He asked softly.

"Of course."  She looked up at him.  For a moment she
thought he was going to kiss her, but at the last minute he
pulled himself back.

"We should get some rest.  It's late and I have to get you
back in the morning."

She nodded, remembering what she was facing at home.  "I
guess we should go to bed."

"Remember, there's only the one."  He looked toward the
bedroom.

"It was okay last night."

He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.  He let her
go on into the bedroom to get ready while he locked the
place down for the night.  He stood at the door for just a
minute, looking out at where he knew the burned area was
located.  Then he took a deep breath and headed for the
bedroom.

Maybe he'd sleep again tonight with her beside him.

*****

When she spotted her parents, she had flown into their
arms.  Holding and being held by them, her mother kept
touching her face, trying to take in that this daughter was
safe and alive.  Her father kept clearing his throat, wiping his
eyes, but not letting go of her hand.

"Bill?  Charlie?"

"Charlie's here, at the hotel.  Bill is on the way.  He was out
on maneuvers, but we've talked to him.  He's okay."

"Is he?  They were so close at one time."

Her mother brushed her hair back from her face.  "I think he
mourned her years ago."

Dana nodded, she understood that.  In some ways she'd
done the same.  Missy hadn't wanted to be in their world.
With a start she remembered Mulder and looked around
quickly to introduce him.  He was nowhere to be seen.

"Did you see the man that brought me here?"

"Tall, dark hair?  Yes.  Once he saw you with us he slipped
out.  Do you know him?"  Her father asked.

"Yes.  He's a . . . a friend.  He kept me safe."

"Then I'd like to thank him."  Her father looked around again
to see if he had returned.  They didn't find him.

*****

Dana knew that Missy would not have approved of the
Catholic service, but it was more for Mom and Ahab anyway.
Missy had been cremated as she'd instructed Dana several
years ago.

She had already arranged a few days off to take Missy's
ashes to San Francisco.  She would scatter them there,
where Missy had been her happiest.  She hadn't told
anyone, but she was going to save some of the ashes and
take them to the lake house where she had felt so safe.  She
wanted to scatter some ashes over that burned area in front
of Mulder's house.

She rose and crossed herself, then turned to follow her
parents out into the aisle.  It had been a small turnout,
friends of her parents, Charlie and Mary with their boys, Will
and Sam.  Bill and his new wife, Tara were there.  Father
McCue met them, hugging Maggie and shaking William's
hand.  When the priest turned to Bill, Maggie looked up.

"Dana, that man, the one that protected you, Mr. Mulder?"

She looked up at her mother, "Yes?"

"Are you close?  I mean are you seeing - "

"No, Mom.  I'm not his type.  He was just doing his job.  I'm
sure he's forgotten all about me."

"I don't think so."  She pointed behind Dana, who turned to
look.  He was standing there, watching her.  Her eyes
widened and she moved toward him without even thinking
about it.  She was unaware of the look of joy that came over
her face.  That caused the worried look to leave his eyes and
he met her, taking hold of her hand.  They didn't speak for a
moment.  There was no need.

She knew about him and could still smile.  He wanted to
know more about her.
He wanted to know as much as she would allow, starting
now.
 

XXX