Title: Cold
Author: AgentRain
Written: May 5, 2002
Rating: NC- 17 [nothing that hardcore, but some ideas are *well* planted]
Category: Vignette, Romance, and Angst [as usual]
Keywords: Mulder and Scully married; William
Spoilers: Generally, everything until Season 9's "William". I assumed that the three episodes after that did not existed--- only for this piece, that is.
Disclaimer: Fox, ten thirteen, and yeah, lucky Chris Carter owns them. I only own them here for ten pages, but hell dammitt, they own my heart and imagination 24/7. Is that a fair deal, I ask you? G

Summary: There are still moments during the chilly night that continues to tear her apart.


It was a cold, misty night.

Dana's aching blue eyes flew open. For a moment, her body felt like a blank space in time, floating aimlessly forever. Then, she blinked twice while shaking her head lightly against the soft satin feel of the pillow. In an agonizing realization, Dana's body flew back to the soft sheets of her bed and settled uncomfortably there. Her knuckles rubbed against her sore pupils. Her nose touched the unfamiliar scent of wine and whisky. Her eyes scanned the dark room. She could only make out familiar silhouettes of the reasonably sized space. Her right hand disconnected from her shivering form and drifted off to the space beside her.

It was empty- cold and empty.

Dana shoved the covers away from her, and without presence of mind- sat up, slipping her frozen toes into her slippers. The atmosphere of the air con hit her sensitive porcelain skin. A tremble escaped her lips. Her hands transferred to her arms, trying hard to rub some warmth on her, but the bitterness was eating her up fast. She shuffled lazily towards the large, towering window on the side of her bed. The lock was safely administered, still, there was no sense denying that she was afraid. The night outside seemed too overpowering, demeaning even. Sure, the city lights seemed so far away... she could make out the structure of the Statue of Liberty, with her torch ever glowing, so small to her sight...

There is one difference, though. The people below- on that fine city- couldn't see what she saw every night she snapped awake and felt the cold skim its way into her own flesh: She saw the wind move through the skyscrapers, she saw the fog cover the city until she could only make out lights and the tip of the buildings. Oh she saw many, many things that people didn't- and probably wouldn't- have the chance to see. And this night proved to be no exception.

A warmth crept over her shivering form. She smiled at the sensation, and from it she gathered her strength to open the lock and dwell outside the terrace. A gust of that mysterious wind blew through her auburn hair, swishing it to the right and left like an impatient little toddler. Her arms wrapped themselves around her thin torso. Sure, even if the city seemed so far away, Dana sometimes believes that her heart belongs in it, that her heart never really left the city. She begged her husband to buy a house far away from chaos, where they would never be found unless by chance... where they could leave everything behind and just sink into each other's company with only Mother Nature as the audience.

However, moments like this at the middle of the night still plague her.

Dana misses the city life. The giant infrastructures, the unbelievable noise, the traffic, the stress... most of all, the way it presented the world to you... she does, but she would never, ever admit that to her husband.

Once he heard it from her, he'll quickly find a vacant lot in that damned city and just take her there. He will do everything just to please her.

The conception made Dana beam tenderly.

He never *did* change.

Dana lifted her right hand into the meager moonlight. Its fullness illuminated the wedding band she proudly wore around her fourth finger.

Dana Katherine S. Mulder.

It's a beautiful name.

A name she'll never get tired of loving or hearing.

It has been six years since they flew out of Washington, hand-in-hand, and towards this rest house Mulder found in New York ever since he had to disappear. He told her that he has been fishing around for a good place for them to live in and start their life as one. Mulder's eyes were so buoyant that day he asked her to go away, leave this damned crusade he unfortunately started and marry him. Yes, she quickly found herself whispering into his lips, Yes, Mulder... let's get away. Let's.

A tear escaped Dana's eyelids. I'm starting again.

Its not often that she cries during these nights. She only sheds a tear to let the heaviness leave her heart--- no, actually she sheds a tear when memories start to hammer on her and push her into this cage of self- pity. Dana will never wipe it, though. She only lets the tear drift off to the edge of her chin, and then the cool breeze will dry its trail.

Dana hates remembering when her notion of being a mother first started... it was a quiet family Christmas dinner with her mother, Bill, and her sister-in-law, Tara. She was pregnant with Matthew, then. Oh Lord, she's so happy and beautiful even if there seems to be a watermelon in lodged in her stomach. Tara struggles when she walks but she laughs all the time. She's swollen like an egg and her legs are cramping, but Tara is so damn happy.

Dana wished so hard after that.

But she already knew the truth. There was no way she could EVER have a child.

It was that supposed abduction. The lights, the cold metal beating down on her back... Jesus, they left her broken. So broken. When she found out about her childlessness, she cried until her head hurt and her eyes were already puffy. The next day she came to work, Mulder asked her about it. She was ready to tell him about the harsh truth, but suddenly, her nose took its turn and she started to bleed.

For Christ's sake. First it was her fertility. Now it was her life.

But she *is* Dana Scully. She didn't give up. Through that damned mission they have stapled on themselves, the endless pondering for the truth- she found herself. She fought back; she showed her whole little world what she could do. Her faith found her, too. Suddenly, there was a significance in her little world. The cross she wore around her neck suddenly had a meaning. Her work on the X-Files suddenly had a destiny. And Mulder... suddenly, she knew why he was there, beside her.


Dana heard the door to the bedroom click open, and soft shoes trudged inside. A grin softly played on her lips. Mulder has come home. His job as a well- known professor in the New York University has kept him up and down through Queens [where they live] and New York City. There, he teaches Psychology and Criminology. He is usually out on 5 PM, but sometimes the traffic gets to him. She, meanwhile, works in the New York General Hospital as a regular doctor. Dana checked the day before she engulfed in sleep and reminded herself that today is Wednesday, so at around 3 PM she's out of the hospital and is home in 1 and half hour. But on most days, Mulder is home earlier than her.

She didn't say anything. She just heard Mulder skimming through the half- empty bottle of whisky and the tinge of wine on the empty glass. There was tinkling of glasses, before a thud on the hard table. He sighed out loud.

"You finally touched that bottle of chilled whisky, Scully?" his husky voice towered over the wind. She loved being silent when he asks questions as unanimous as that, especially when she hears his footsteps coming closer to her petite form on the terrace.

Not long afterwards, she felt his warm palms press on her hips, rubbing against the silky white night gown she was wearing. She pressed her back on his front, making herself lost within the warmth of his body. His chin rested on her bony shoulder. Tilting her head to one side, Dana closed her eyes and smudged her nostrils with Mulder's scent. She always has admitted to herself that she'll stay awake every night just to wait for his presence- so that she could smell how his masculine forest green cologne would tinge with his hard day's sweat. She loved his aroma--- it always kept her intoxicated.

Mulder's lips met with the pulse beat on her neck. The feel of his soft mouth lapping gingerly on her skin sent shivers throughout her back, wiring her nipples straight up. The hands of her husband moved up her abdomen, then both continued to cup the tenderness of her breasts. He began to caress her bosoms, making a moan escape her throat. Her hands flew to over his, wishing to encourage him, but she had to pull away from his pleasurable touches when she felt the tensing nerves on his knuckles. Twirling around, she found Mulder's hazel eyes darkened--- not with desire, but with fatigue. It was a damn long day; her husband knew she was troubled, so he tried to ease her pains. He blinked away the exhaustion from his eyes immediately when he guessed that she saw it there.

"I could still make it with you tonight, Scully." He hooked one arm around her tiny waist, and as if scooping her up, his body met hers. Front to front. Like two lost puzzle pieces in a jigsaw.

She smiled warmly, all the coolness drawing away from her veins, and suddenly, she was Scully. The woman Mulder made, the woman she wants to be constantly. Scully is strong, she's the woman who fought back from the conspiracy that wanted to make her and Mulder's life miserable. She's the woman who always had a clear head, a good view into the world. The woman who could let loose sometimes, who could fuck like no other could, who is always... Mulder's precious... then at the same time, be the beloved doctor of her patients. Scully has seen so many over the past few years of her life, but she always battled against it, and won through her own means.

"Don't further exhaust yourself, Mulder. We have a big day tomorrow. Its 8 PM and you had an overtime." Scully's one hand flew down to Mulder's manhood. It was flaccid underneath his pants. She tapped it fondly, and kissed his lips. "I don't think you're in the condition, either."

"I'm okay, Scully. If this is what you want for tonight..." His voice became lower, huskier. The hand securing her waist transferred up and down her tight ass. "... I could give it to you,"

It was tempting, to fuck him like crazy and just forget that tomorrow was probably one of the biggest days of their married life together... but no, not tonight when his hair smelled of dried sweat, his forehead crinkled from work, and his dick was not even responding to his actions on her or vice versa. No, not tonight. Yes, she needed his warmth; she needed Mulder... but not this way.

Scully's thumb caressed the flesh below his cheek. "No, Mulder. Not tonight. I'm nervous, but I don't need this tonight. I just want you beside me... after a good, hot shower and when that fucking bottle of whisky is gone from the bedside table." A flash of disappointment crossed his face.

To make it up to him, she caught his tongue in her lips, transferring it into a passionate kiss. Tongue met tongue, grinding against each other, drinking in each other. They pulled away, Scully's hands in Mulder's dark brown hair.

In the moonlight, she could clearly see the shining white strands that started to sprout from his roots. She rubbed them, thinking that she'll always appreciate every single white strand of hair in Mulder's flock. It'll always mean that they are getting old together. And that has always been a wonderful thought for her.

"Go in there and get a shower, will you?" She teased, burying her face in his collar. "You smell like hell."

"Then why are you sniffing me like this?" Mulder countered, bringing her head back up to him.

Giggling, Scully twisted him around towards the entrance of the bedroom. "Go in there. Take a good shower, and I'll clean that mess up." She pushed him inside.

"I'll clean it up, Scully." He winked, "Don't stay long out there. You might catch something."

She tucked a strand of escaped hair behind her ear. Underneath the moon's shine and body clasped by the wind, Scully appeared as beautiful as a goddess. "I already caught what I want a few years ago."

He acknowledged this with a mouthing of, "I love you" before disappearing inside the bedroom. Mulder cleaned the small cocktail drink she had a while ago, and Scully watched him. She wanted to watch him further more as he finished cleaning up and descended into the warm shower, but she was coaxed by the wind to face the city line.

So there it goes, as fast as night and day in the capital--- she's not Scully anymore. Suddenly, just like that, she's Dana again. The woman who always wanted to be like one of her brothers, the woman who fucked her professor inconsiderably, the woman who is so afraid of Scully. It's like a tug- of- war inside her, one minute she's Scully the next minute she's this little Dana. Mulder notices this tugging inside of her, and within his eyes she could see that he's afraid. Not because she could be likened to a schizophrenic, on the contrary, he's afraid that he's not enough for her. That the life he has struggled to give her is not enough.

Dana made the breeze fill her lungs. Mulder has given her everything she has fantasized of. From the start of their personal relationship, he had.

It was just like yesterday when Mulder first entered her. His head was in bandages with sweat breaking through the white dressings. He had been through a brain surgery, but he promised her that his mind was clear enough to know what he wanted--- and *he* wanted her more than anything. Scully hesitated, reasoning out that he's probably in turmoil over the death of Diana Fowley, his former wife and "girlfriend". He told her otherwise, making her give up to his susceptible charms. It ended in her own apartment, in her OWN bed. Her legs were folded up in the air, cradling him in between. Womanhood swollen and housing his thrusting dick, she was crying out both in pain and in joy. As he emptied himself inside her, he collapsed on her chest, telling her softly that he loves her. So much, so much, so much...

She did not reply. At all.

*Dana* didn't reply. Scully was screaming her head off with the three little words he wanted to hear, but *Dana* the coward took over and pushed Mulder off her trembling body. The heat between them disappeared at once, and she was freezing suddenly. Mulder tried to take her in his arms, but she refused. Oh, Lord... she could feel the panging in her heart as if it was just yesterday... she was so scared that this could lead them away professionally, it could destroy their whole lives... no, they could not do this again. They shouldn't dare again.

But it happened, repeatedly.

Each night as his orgasm would hit, he would shout out to her that he loves her with all of his heart gashing open through erotic bliss... but she only stared at him with teary eyes. She couldn't tell him. If she did, she wouldn't be able to keep a straight face tomorrow at work; she probably wouldn't be able to show her face to the other Agents in the bureau. She's doing something illegal again. She's wrong, again. First, it was Daniel, now it was Mulder. Dana destroyed Daniel's family life. Dana couldn't do that to Mulder. Not especially when this IS Mulder. The man she would give her life for if he asked, the man she REALLY loves. Oh no... another life ruined at her fucking expense.


Mulder was hurt. He was, but he didn't show it... at all.

Then, that night came. It was an overwhelming day. Daniel's disease, Mulder's computer generated crop circles, Daniel's profession of his undying love for her... and finally, the wrong she made right, after ten years. When she told Mulder about it, she quickly fell asleep afterwards, but she woke up in the middle of the night beside Mulder in his bed.

Scully's hand entered Mulder's long-sleeved shirt, and started to caress his muscles. Her mouth found his... and before they knew it, they were at the peak again, shouting each other's name like happy crazy mental ward patients--- with contentment. As Mulder made his usual dialogue during his orgasm, something different happened:

After months of sleeping together, Scully replied. She took his neck close to her mouth and whispered slowly, "I love you too, Mulder."

He was so happy he started crying. And so tired he collapsed into sleep.


Nothing was different or the same after that night. They grew closer emotionally, but the love making suddenly was so beautiful, so sacred between them. It was perfect; Scully was so ready to marry him. Mulder was so content that he slept without snoring at nights, and of course, the question of marriage always tumbled out of his lips...

His abduction.

Scully almost collapsed in the balcony as the thought escaped the deepest recesses of her mind.

Jesus, she was pregnant. Impossible, but she *was*. She was sure that it IS Mulder's child, but Mulder was taken away from her... from her and the unborn child in her womb. Oh, God... how Dana cried during those days. She would get rid of her morning sickness, then start sobbing above the flushing toilet. At nights, she would dream about Mulder's ordeal, then hold her stomach with tightness. Oh Mulder, where are you? We need you, your child, and I...

How she pulled through Mulder's disappearance, death, and resurrection from his demise... she has no idea. The only thing she's sure of is that Scully took over Dana those long months--- maybe helping her survive, maybe helping her stand up from the toilet after barfing her breakfast, making her wipe away those cold tears on her cheeks. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy even with the perils surrounding her pregnancy...

She named him William. After Mulder's father.

Scully thought it ended there, she thought it was done. She'll ride off with Mulder into the sunset with their baby boy and never, ever look back.

God; was Scully ever wrong.

Two days with her family, and there it went away with that sunset she has hoped to ride into... Mulder had to go in hiding to protect his life, her life... and the life of William. All of her hopes, her wishes... gone... just like that.

William was so beautiful. She poured her heart and soul into her son. Scully did, while allowing Dana sometimes to creep out and cry the water out of her soul. Scully knew Mulder was safe, but at the same time, she knew her son wasn't.

William S. Mulder was sent for adoption 7 years ago to an unknown couple. The only thing Scully knew was that they had a farm and that the couple is taking good care of William. Mulder came back shortly after the adoption, broken that his son is gone... and for their son's own good, maybe... they should never dare to make contact with Will.

But that was seven years ago. Seven years ago, their world was in chaos, but Scully and Mulder won the battle. There are no more conspiracies. They left the X-Files, and yes, they never looked back ever since. There was no more reason to do so, and peace at last met their acquaintance. Scully is quite sad sometimes that they didn't forego their friendships with Monica Reyes, John Doggett, and their former AD, Walter Skinner... but it was better this way. The less connection with the X-Files, the safer they all are.

Scully shuddered, and the cold was endearing into her. She heard Mulder's shower turning off. He wouldn't be anyway pleased to still find her outside the terrace. The near- transparent nightgown she had on wouldn't hold against the chill for long.

She pinched her toes together, and then walked away from the balcony. She closed the door behind her shut. Studying the intricate design of the door, she thought with a smile that there is no way the cold will enter their room, now.

Scully jumped on the bed and covered herself with the thick, velvet sheets. She turned to one side, and pretended that she was already asleep as Mulder exited the shower. Scully heard her husband chuckle, before joining her underneath the sheets.

She tried hard in continuing her acting, but his hands squeezing her neck made her laugh and leap up in excitement. Facing him, she pushed him off to the edge of the bed, but he retrieved his position and kissed her. When they finished, she found herself enfolded into Mulder's arms, one leg propped up her husband's pelvis and one hand playing with the small amount of hair on his chest. Mulder breathed in her hair, closing his eyes. His fingertips reflexively found the golden chain around her neck. He started feeling the cross pendant.

"Are you scared about tomorrow, Scully?" He gently asked, weighing whether she'll answer annoyed or not.

Scully planted a kiss on his chest. "Of- Yes, I am."

"Why?"

"Because he might be shocked; he might deny us--- Christ, he might even hate us."

A soft chortle escaped his lips. "He'll love us, Scully. Every adopted child would love to know his real parents."

"But we're *adopting* him too. Don't you think that's... too profound for a seven year old?"

Mulder kissed the top of her head. "We'll explain everything to him. He is in the age of reason."

She moved her head up and down his shoulder. Scully snuggled closer and was about to drift herself into her husband's warmth...

"Scully?"

Her eyes opened. "Yeah?"

He wavered before he had the guts to ask her, "Are you happy? Like this?"

Scully shook her head. Her husband had gathered enough strength to after all ask her about it. She, of course, couldn't explain the difference between Dana and Scully... but she could make him understand.

Lifting her head away from his body, she interlocked her eyes with him.

"Oh, Mulder... you have given me everything I have dreamed of. You have given me the love I have been looking for. You have given me my whole life... I sometimes falter, I sometimes act bitchy and like a complete ass, but there is no sense in denying that I am so content. You don't have to prove yourself anymore, Mulder... I have your proof-" Scully lifted the glinting wedding band where he could see it. Mulder grinned and also lifted his hand, and in an unconscious decision, they intertwined their hands together. "And that's all I need."

Mulder's smile widened. But his drowsiness was taking over him quickly. Before he could slip into unconsciousness, Scully nibbled on his lower lip and said,

"I love you, Mulder. I love you so much."

Her head crashed down back on his shoulder. She took in a deep breath, relaxing her hand on her husband's warm neck, and started to slip from her grip on reality...


Scully fidgeted with her manicured fingernails. She stole a glance at her husband, who was standing on one corner, with his back to her. He was trying to preoccupy his time with the paintings of the children that were posted on the yellow painted walls, but he was as nervous as she was. His hands were in his jeans' pockets, and Scully pondered at the thought that if Mulder's hands were dangling aimlessly at his sides, people would probably mistake him as an arthritis victim.

She was seating on the only "for-adult's" chair inside the nursery. Uncrossing and crossing her legs, she was wondering what the hell was taking the nurse so damned long. It was so cold; she tucked herself in further in Mulder's jersey jacket. She hoped they could get over it smoothly, Jesus, she hoped that it was all over now. They could be home cooking lunch with Will...

If only it was that fucking simple.

Then, as if answering her prayers, the main door opened. Mulder was alert at the sound. He whisked himself towards the entrance, exchanging glances with his wife.

The blond nurse entered first. She smiled sweetly at the couple, "Just wait a minute, he's a bit shy." She ducked her head back to the outside, then began to drag their expected contact inside.

After a few agonizing moments that had eaten up most of the couple's patience, a small boy wearing a baseball cap followed after her. The hat shrouded his face; but Scully could make out his trembling lips. Mulder took his place behind his wife, placing both his hands on her shoulders. His palms were also freezing.

William was dressed in an old pair of sweatshirt that advertised Mickey Mouse, and jeans that seemed a bit too tight for his legs. His sneakers were broken in, literally, the white being replaced with brown dirt, large holes on the soles becoming visible as William shuffled his feet. Scully draped a hand on her mouth.

A year ago, William's adoptive parents died in a fire on their farmhouse. Scully and Mulder had no idea that their son were in a New York adoption center until recently, when Frohike of the long-standing group, the Lone Gunmen, called them and told them about it. They arranged everything, from adoption papers to contacting the center--- and what was left to the couple was the actual meeting with their own son.

So, here they are... their *own* flesh and blood in second hand clothes, so shy before them... so scared...

A tear escaped Scully's eye.

Lara, the blond nurse, sensed the tension. She patted William on the head and motioned at them. "Here are the nice people who want to take you home, William. Don't you want to meet them?"

Their son only looked down at his feet.

Another tear drifted down Scully's face. She broke contact with Mulder, hushing her husband softly with a pat on his hands. Striding closer to the boy, she dropped to her knees. Will was startled, he reflexively backed away, but Scully took one of his soft hands into her own.

"Hi. I'm... your... real ... I'm Dana, William. I... could remove your... cap? If you... don't mind---"

Will nodded.

Scully tipped the red baseball cap off of his head.

The looks of the little boy in front of them made both Mulder and Scully take in a gasp.

Everything about William fitted into the looks of the married duo. He had Mulder's soft brown locks, the hard corners of his face, and the pouting lips of his father. But Scully noticed the unmistakable chin and blue- green eyes that were hers. At the sight of this, Lara was also surprised.

"Wow. That's some resemblance."

Mulder moved closer to where Scully and William were. He kneeled down beside her and studied the boy's face with fascination in his eyes. Scully noticed that her husband's eyes were also teary.

"Son..." Mulder shadowed, his voice hinting ache and desperation.

William's eyes left his shoes and transferred to his parents. He also studied their faces intently.

His lips moved painstakingly, as if the thoughts in his head were not going to be silenced until he says the words they all want to hear...

"Mom? Dad?"

Scully almost collapsed when she heard him call them that.

The couple quickly gathered the young boy in their arms and hugged him tight.

"Oh, God... William... Oh God..." Scully kept saying, until the hug was ended and Mulder was pulling her up on her feet. He had William in his arms, and when she ascended, he placed an arm around her.

Lara smiled at them. "That's settled. I'll be packing your things up, William." She excused herself and left the nursery.

William curiously ruffled Mulder's identical brown locks, "Is it true that you live in a rest house on Queens?"

Mulder smiled, glancing at Scully. "Yes, we do, and you know what, Will? We have a room there decorated just for you."

"Really?"

Scully grinned, hooking one arm on Mulder's waists. "Really."

They bounded out of the nursery, and into the dark hallways of the adoption center. Scully and Mulder talked to the ecstatic little boy, and in the process, Scully could feel herself locking up. This is what both Dana and Scully wanted. A family.

After collecting William's backpack, they all went inside their Ford van laughing at their son's garbled stories, and headed of to their house... Before driving off, though, Mulder reached over to the passenger seat and planted a warm kiss on her forehead. She felt his tears press on her also- wet cheeks. Scully reached at the backseat where William was strapped to his safety.

The last remaining ounce of cold in her veins disappeared as William's eyes softened at her touch on his forehead. There will never be a cold evening for her, never another encounter with her deepest fears.

Because all Dana Katherine Scully- Mulder ever will want is with her right now.

THE END


Author's Notes: It has hit me, hard--- and I know it has hit all of you hard, too. The ending of the X-Files, something I have invested in for the past 4- 5 years of my life. It has become a part of my lifestyle, my unconscious thoughts, and fantasies that usually ends on the pages of my diary. I have always thought that the X-Files should've ended on the eight season, but it crept on. I prayed that it would end peacefully... and here I am, wishing for that end, and never thinking how it would affect me. Christ, I WILL miss the X-Files. The decision to write this fic came over me this evening as I sat on the edge of my bed reading my favorite moments on the novel, Antibodies. I just sat there, flipping through it, tracing the X-Files words embossed on the cover. I read the praises for the show, then thought about how this show shaped the culture of our world. It changed us; it touched us... it became a breathing thing, something we all have identified with. Without the X-Files, there is no doubt that a series of lost will sweep over us... but all in all, we'll be more content that it exited with love coating its existence. This fic is for my assumption that the season ender/series finale would be the "truth" we all are hoping for. This is my own little way of showing that I am also hoping for that happy ending we are all searching for in this dark series. And another way of showing that I'll always love the X-Files and I'll continue writing fiction after it has ended.

Feedback: Worth more than any other emails I receive

XTRA Note: I haven't been to New York City in my life, so please pardon the calculations in this fic. I'm just assuming things; so if there are any mistakes, please forgive me;) Acknowledgements: Thanks to the PinoyXphiles, of course, you guys are always there. JC Maravilla [as usual:)], my best friends in USTHS [especially St. Catherine 01- 02... I love you guys so much!], all my Internet pals for giving me the strength to continue making fictions--- you all know who you are. The author, Fialka, for through her writings I learned to get inside the character's head and transmit their probable thoughts into the computer. Her writings are beautiful, and I continue to read them for the inspiration. To the X-Files cast and crew, thank you for nine wonderful years. Your work of art will continue thriving in the hearts of the billions of people you have touched over those wonderful years. I love you.

 

 

 


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