Title: Dogged Determination V: Watched Over
Author: Rhondda Lake
Written: January 1998
Series: Dogged Determination
Rating: R
Category: C, T, MSR
Keywords: MSR, Mulder/Scully Married, Dean Koontz Crossover
Archive: Anywhere. Just keep my name and the story intact.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully get settled into a new home and prepare to receive the new arrival they get a call for help from a family vacationing in Colorado. There they must join with Buster and his kin to try and rescue two children in need of help. Introduces the heroes of Dean Koontz's original "The Watchers."

Authors notes: You may recognize the names of many of the Family in this story. I needed names to go with a large group of people who companion and champion the Dogs. So, with permission, I used names of members of the X-Files Romantics mailing list, fanfic authors and even three of my editors.

Some play major roles, some minor. You get to play spot the real people in this story. :)

1. Doggone It

The woods were enchanted. At least to the three children racing through the snow covered magic. Not far away a series of ski chalets spotted the landscape. They had been rented by the parents of the elder two children.

Thirteen-year-old James Hyatt scooped up a fistful of snow and mashed it into a fairly loose snowball. Just in time for his ten-year-old sister, Della, and their friend nine-year-old Jonathan Davies to catch up to him.

He whirled and threw.

Both Della and Jonathan dodged the projectile. Daisy was NOT so lucky. She got a face full of snow and she froze in her tracks.

The three children erupted into giggles as Daisy shook the snow loose and whuffed, before launching herself at James, hitting him and knocking him right into a snow bank.

"Way to go, DAISY." Della cheered.

Daisy looked over her shoulder and smiled. Her brown eyes, so expressive, telling them how much she'd enjoyed that.

James erupted from the snow bank and dumped snow over Daisy's back. She shivered and shook, sending it flying everywhere, including back at James.

Then she was off at a loping run, playing catch-me-if-you-can. Her red-gold fur making her an easy target against the snow and dark brown trees.

"SNOW WAR!" Della cried. "Everyone for themselves!"

She ran away from Jonathan, who, though younger than the other two, was old enough to know no quarter would be given. He moved off to the side to begin piling up a makeshift snow wall to use as cover.

Della didn't feel the the need for a snow wall, but opted to make snowballs as fast as she could. Somewhere behind her Daisy was barking.

Della stopped making snowballs. Something was not quite right about Daisy's bark. It was... angry and frantic.

"Daisy?" Della abandoned her cache and started heading for the sound of her guardian.

She was soon passing the tree line and touching on the road. There was a dull blue van parked on the side of the road. Daisy was scraping her front paws along the sliding door, trying to work the handle as she barked and growled.

"Daisy? What's wrong?" Della asked.

The Dog spun, canine eyes gone wide. At the same time someone stepped out of the driver's side door. A big someone, dressed in a dark, bulky coat, and a ski mask.

He started walking toward Della.

Daisy charged him and sunk her teeth into the man's leg. He went down with a cry and tried to fight the dog off. Then another man stepped out of the van.

He had a gun.

Della's parents had taught her about guns. She knew a lot of things most ten year olds didn't know. And she knew how to run.

Daisy had stopped her attack and was hot on Della's heels, urging the girl to run faster.

Della made it past the trees before a rough hand caught her coat and yanked her off her feet. She screamed.

Daisy turned mid-stride and rushed the attacker, a blur of snarling canine fury. The man raised his gun.

The gunshot mostly covered Della's screams.

He'd managed to ignore Daisy's far off barking. After all Gadget, his own friend and companion, liked to bark just for the joy of barking. He was used to it. However, Jonathan stood up at the first scream. James must have gotten Della good. He began stockpiling his own snowballs when he heard the crack, and on top of it, another scream.

He was torn. Should he run back to the cabins and get his mum, or see what was wrong. If it was a really big emergency it would take more time to go back and get the adults and the Canine Cavalry, as they'd been named.

Mind made up, Jonathan ran in the direction of the screams, which had not stopped.

"Della? James?" He called before him. "Daisy?"

He stopped just before the road, his eyes wide with horror. The snow before him was stained red. An awful red. A wrong red. And in the middle of that red, Daisy lay, unmoving.

Jonathan's stomach roiled in revulsion. Daisy! Who would do such a thing?

Dead. She was dead. She was dead and Della had been screaming andhewantedhismumrightnow...

He heard the roar of an engine and he tore his eyes from the horrific scene before him to look out to the road, mostly obscured by trees. A van. A gray or blue van sped away much too fast.

Stunned, sick and very frightened, Jonathan Davies stumbled back the way he had come. Occasionally calling for his friends, his voice breaking on their names. Neither of the Hyatt children answered.

The main chalet was filled with laughter. The smell of wood smoke and cooking permeated the air. On the deck, with its grand view of the mountains, some men and women were gathered, bundled in coats and laughing with and at the tall man who was daring to grill steaks in the cold outdoors. The grill was HUGE.

At their feet dogs played. Most of the dogs were golden retrievers. A few mixed breeds also romped. Occasionally one would approach the grill and look at it longingly. The chef was also grilling about four packs of hot dogs.

"Travis, didn't anyone tell you cook outs were a summer thing?" One woman pushed her glasses up on her face with a gloved hand. Flurries had begun to fall and they stuck in her dark hair.

"You know, Sheryl, you don't have to eat it." The man at the grill looked at her with laughing eyes.

He was tall and lanky under his ski jacket, and his brown hair was only lightly flecked with gray. His was a strong face, one that showed lines of stress intermixed with fresher laugh lines. Sam "Travis" Hyatt had known both stress and laughter in his forty nine years. In the last thirteen, however, it had been mostly laughter. It was the laughter that went with the name Sam Hyatt. Once, a long time ago, he'd had another name. Travis Cornell.

The retriever currently eyeing the grill had been indirectly responsible for all the joys in his life. The Dog was of pure retriever stock, but it was much more than any dog before it. Although, every animal in the house and on the deck shared its abilities. Travis looked down at his friend and felt a pang of sadness rip through him.

At fifteen, Einstein's coat was liberally streaked with gray. His dark eyes, so full of intelligence and emotion, now required a pair of specially made glasses. Their thickness showing the decline in his sight. The device might have looked stupid on any other animal. But on Einstein they looked...

proper. Fitting. He should have all the benefits a human of his advanced years would have. The dog walked with a very pronounced limp now. The legacy of a long ago battle with a monster from a nightmare.

"What're you looking at, old man? You'll get yours." Travis wagged the grilling fork at the Dog. The sire and grandsire, even great-grandsire of every animal present.

The Dog barked once. Yes. He knew.

"Mum!" Every head turned at the cry. Young Jonathan Davis was stumbling toward them. Alone. Something was wrong.

Stephanie Davis broke away from the group, jumping over the railing and running to her son. Their companion, Gadget, not a half-step behind.

"Jon! What is it? Where are the others?" Her crisp British accent was as welcome as the hug she threw around the child. Her voice both warm and worried. Jonathan was not the type of child to cause a scene.

"Gone. Jimmy and Della are gone. Someone shot... Daisy's dead." The boy's voice shook.

On the deck the Dogs threw up a simultaneous howl. Long and mournful.

Einstein shook. He looked as if he were going to faint.

"Jon, Nancy, get Einstein inside." Travis snapped orders like a drill sargent. "Kristel, please stay here with Nora, tell her what's going on."

Even as he spoke Sheryl Martin had sprinted over the railing and was running for the woods, following Jonathan's tracks. Her faithful friend, Wookie, at her side, nose to the ground.

Travis went into the house, ignoring the milling voices and the confusion as Stephanie brought Jonathan inside to the warmth of the chalet and protection of friends. He went to the closet and retrieved one of his guns from the lock box. He always carried them now. Ever since he'd met Einstein.

He looked up to see his wife looking at him, her eyes wide, her hand to her mouth. She was shaking but there was a look of trust and determination in her eyes. Kristel's arm was around her shoulder in a motherly way, even though she was younger than Nora.

As Travis closed the door he was faced with two others. One a black man, his face lined with age, the other a balding middle aged white man developing a slight paunch.

Both showed him the guns tucked in their belts. Lemual Johnson and Harold Baker were both former NSA agents. Travis nodded and they followed him. In their wake walked Scrappy and Buster, their own Dog companions.

They went at a half run through the snow, following the tracks left by Sheryl and Wookie. The snow was beginning to fall harder, and the sun was going down. This, Travis realized with a sick knot of dread settling in his stomach.

He sent up a prayer for the safety of his children.

Hope Jamison hefted the last of the boxes from the back of the truck. She watched as Jackie St. George and Frohike tried to coordinate their efforts to get the last piece of furniture, her father's black leather couch, through the door of the house. That, in itself, was entertainment. Jackie and Frohike hadn't been able to coordinate their efforts all day. If they were carrying furniture his stride was too short, and hers too long, she was trying to hurry and get the job over with, and he was tiring way too fast.

Both of them were breathing heavily, the cold causing each puff to form a vapor cloud before their faces.

Meanwhile, Heckle and Jeckle were offering advice that was less than helpful and more than infuriating as they managed to lift and carry in perfect synchrony.

Helping Dad and Dana move into their new house was turning out to be the most fun Hope had enjoyed in quite a while.

The house was a two story fieldstone in the middle of a planned Georgetown community. It had taken them forever to find it. In the end Dad had liked the security system and the presence of the community police. Dana had also sold him on their next door neighbor, a seventy year old woman who loved to gossip, and who noticed EVERYTHING. However, Dana had actually fallen in love with the house itself. Not the three bedrooms they had wanted, but four, and two full baths. The price had been right, and she wanted to be inside a real house BEFORE she popped.

Hope noticed the couch and its movers were now safely inside so she jumped off the back of the truck and followed.

Inside, Dana was directing the placement of the last piece of furniture.

"Right there, under the bay window." Dana was wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She'd been busy making dinner for the moving crew. No one would allow her to lift anything but the lightest of the boxes. She was now eight months pregnant and looked it. Hope was worried that if her baby brother got any bigger Dana wasn't going to be able to walk.

"Frohike, just put it down. I don't want to have to touch this thing longer than I have to. God knows what he's DONE on it." Jackie settled the couch on the floor.

"Most likely things even I've never dreamed of," he looked pointedly at Dana who arched an eyebrow at him.

"And you'd better not, either, or there wouldn't be a judge around who'd convict me."

Hope walked past them to set the box she was carrying marked 'Kitchen' in the proper room, with its fellows. Dana was just so organized. The truck had been loaded systematically, the things to go upstairs to be unloaded first and so forth. Hope was in awe of it.

"Where are Byers and Langly?" Hope called from the kitchen.

"They took some tools upstairs and are putting the beds together." Dana answered as she walked, awkwardly, into the kitchen. She opened the oven and checked on the lasagna.

"You are letting THEM put together a bed you intend for me to sleep in? I don't think so." Hope took a step for the door but paused as Dana reached for the phone.

"Who're you calling?"

Dana smiled. "Mulder, I'm gonna give him hell for being held up in Georgia."

Hope paused, then jumped up onto the kitchen's center island, her legs swinging carelessly. "Oh, this I gotta hear."

2. Dog Tired

In the sparse comfort of an anonymous hotel room just outside of Millen, Georgia, Mulder was typing up the end of his report with furious jabs of his fingers. He was SUPPOSED to have been out of here yesterday. Their suspect was dead. There had been no more instances of Spontaneous Human Combustion.

Case closed. But their damned flight had been canceled.

*CRACK* Mulder's head shot up to glare at his partner. She was twirling the string of pink bubble gum around her finger and popping it back in her mouth.

She looked over at him and smiled. She knew she was annoying him, and reveling in it.

What the hell did he do to deserve this?

*CRACK* Another burst bubble, another string of gum.

"I'm gonna make you put that on your nose." He growled.

She spit the gum into her palm, mushed it with her fingers, then voluntarily stuck it on the end of her pert nose. He was going to shoot her.

She kept working on the report she was doing, with a wad of bright pink gum on her nose. It was glaring at him. Mocking him.

"You know, Mulder, if you glare too long like that your face will freeze.

I'm sure you have a case about that in your files somewhere."

He was doomed. She was out to get him. Not sent by the consortium, not to be the backbone to some insidious plot to ruin him, but because she loved to annoy him. She positively got off on it. She was as good at innuendo and sick, dark humor as he was -- which just added to the annoyance.

The phone rang and he snatched it up. "Mulder."

His face lit up. "I was hoping you'd call. I was gonna call you at nine." He looked over at his partner, "Yeah, she's here. Do I have to?"

She looked up and cocked her head to the side, smiling at him. She knew by the look on his face who was on the other end of the phone. "Mulder, if you two start having phone sex, there's gonna be a harassment complaint on your desk before you can blink. If I can't 'git some' for three more weeks I shouldn't have to listen to you talking about your better sex life."

"Yeah," he spoke into the phone and flipped her the finger, "that was just Hellen saying hello."

The coffee colored woman seated on the hotel bed returned the hand sentiment. The gesture looking ridiculous combined with the bright pink gum stuck to her nose.

"Hellen, Scully ordered me to ask you over for dinner when we get back." The look he gave her told her his delight at that prospect.

"Give me a time and I'll be there with bells on." She pulled off the gum and grinned. One more point for Matthews. Irritating Fox Mulder had become her link to sanity since requesting this assignment three months ago.

Agent Scully had pretty much been forced to take a teaching position at Quantico when she went into her fifth month of pregnancy. She hadn't shared her husband's relief.

Hellen had, over the last six months, developed a friendship with Dana Scully. They were kindred souls. And if someone put a gun to her head she might, just might, admit she found herself liking Mulder, too. But she'd have to think about it. A lot. A bullet in the brain might be the better prospect.

When Scully had had to transfer until her baby was born and she'd returned from maternity leave, Hellen found herself getting a call. Not from Dana, but from Eddie Kline.

She'd taken to seeing him again, and when he'd gotten out of the hospital and had been recovering from his gunshot wounds, Hellen had insisted he stay with her. He'd returned to his PI job in Cleveland with some reluctance.

Now, he called her three times a week, e-mailed her every day, and they tended to fly to see each other every other weekend.

Eddie had asked her to watch Mulder's back. Told her about the smokestack, and how he didn't want to see Hope Jamison, Mulder's daughter, orphaned again. So, as a favor to both Eddie and Dana, she'd requested to be Mulder's temporary partner.

HE had been less then thrilled. S'okay, so was she.

Then and there she'd decided that if she were to keep her sanity working in the weirdness that surrounded Mulder, she'd have to have something to fall back on. Something to concentrate on. Unfortunately for him, annoying Mulder had become her hobby. It was just so... FUN.

"I'd like to hang a bell around your neck." Mulder's muttering brought her out of her reverie.

"Now, wonderbread, I don't go for that kind of kink. Does your wife know you talk like that?"

"Matthews, bite me."

"Have you had your rabies shots?"

"Yeah, have you had yours?"

"Geez, Mulder, that ranks up there with 'I know you are but what am I?' Get some original material for Christ sakes. Besides, I wouldn't bite you, I like my meals to have a bit of substance, if ya know what I mean. I'd need a jewelers loop to find YOURS."

She grinned, yup, annoying Mulder was fun. It almost made up for finding the illegal wire tap on her phone line the other day. The one she hadn't told Mulder of, but had dutifully informed Skinner about.

The things one does for one's friends...

"Mulder, don't you know by now that the correct response to Hellen's comment is 'You couldn't get your mouth around what I got.' I agree with her, you are slipping." Scully thus informed him she could hear the entire conversation over the line.

Mulder grinned and turned his attention back to the phone. "Look, I'm sorry I got stuck here..."

Just then he heard Hope's voice in the background. "Dana, the Salvation Army truck is here for the hideous black couch."

"Don't even think about it," he growled.

"I don't know, Mulder, you weren't here to help move all of OUR furniture into OUR house, leaving all the work to our way too understanding friends.

There wasn't as much room in the living room as we'd thought, and since that couch clashes with all my furniture..."

Hope's giggles in the background gave them away.

"Very funny. So what, besides backbreaking labor and massive quantities of beer, did I miss?" He asked.

"St. George was teaching Hope a drinking game while the guys were confiscating parts of your video collection as payment for services rendered. You know, Hope just can't hold her beer."

More giggles in the background. Then St.George's voice. "It wasn't the beer that did her in, it's when we moved to Scotch. You know, the good bottle he'd hid in the back of your cupboard."

"Why do I get the feeling that I am just BEGINNING to pay for not being there?"

"Geez, Mulder, I may start believing in psychic abilities yet. Hope, you are just no good at keeping a straight face. I guess the Mulder deadpan is NOT an inherent trait." There was a loud thud followed by a "Jesus, what was that?"

"What is it, Scully?"

The pause was too long for his comfort. Then Scully's voice was back.

"Exactly how attached were you to that cue ball coat rack?"

"Ha, ha."

"Sorry, Mulder. Serious this time. Langley and Byers were putting the beds together upstairs and they'd just stuck the coat rack at the top of the stairs, as I told them the fourth bedroom was gonna be our home office...

Well, they were trying to manhandle our mattresses into the room when Langley backed into the coat rack and it went down the stairs. Two arms broke and one of the cue balls came off."

"Tell them they better discover the miracle of super glue." It was NOT a good day.

It was dark when the group returned. Travis and Harry were carrying Daisy between them. She was already going stiff.

Nora pushed past the gathering of friends at the door and, seeing no sign of her children, closed her eyes.

"Someone call the police." She spoke softly.

Travis shook his head. "We can't." He held out a note. Sheryl had found it nailed to a tree, not far from Daisy's body. "First put on some gloves."

Kristel grabbed her gloves from the closet and took it from him and read it aloud to the assembly as the men set down Daisy's body. The dogs surged forward to sniff at her and make whining noises.

"Cornell, or Hyatt, whichever you want, We have the kids. They'll stay safe for now. We want five million dollars in untraceable bills by Friday, noon.

If the money is not at the place we will appoint later, we will begin to send your children back..." Kristel's voice broke and she eyed Nora nervously. "My God."

"What?" Nora tore the note from the younger woman's hands heedless of the warning about gloves and read on, aloud "Send your children back one piece at a time." Her hands began to shake and two of the other women, Nancy and Chantal took her by the arms and guided her to the couch. Nancy took the gloves Kristel handed her and the letter from Nora to read on.

"It says if we go to the police they will kill James and Della and ruin all our plans, as they... they know about the Dogs. They claim they'll make sure everyone knows about them as well. They finish their demands with an additional ransom of the last pure bred litter."

Pandemonium broke loose.

Buster raced away from Daisy's remains to face Mindy, his mate. She whined and looked behind her into the room. Their five puppies, were laying on the floor inside, sleeping in a tangled heap. They were getting bigger, but they were still only six months old. Not yet grown up. They were the last litter born.

"Hold it, hold it!" Travis' voice boomed over the babble. "We are not going to be handing over ANY of our friends. Nor are we going to pay any ransom.

Nora and I don't have this kind of money, and while we know all of you would be willing to help... these kind of people cannot be given in to."

He looked across the room to Nora. Her eyes were full of pain, but she nodded. He thanked God. She was one of the strongest people he knew. She'd dealt with evil before.

Sheryl spoke up. "The snowfall made it difficult, but we could make out two, possibly three sets of adult sized footprints. ALSO there was an area where an obvious struggle took place. By the size of some of the indentations there I'd say Daisy attacked one of them. Brushing into the snow we found blood, so she at least wounded one of them."

"Way to go, Daisy." That had come from Kelly Phillips. She stood among the others, her three year old daughter balanced on her hip. Little Kassy, like the other children of the group, had been kept in eye sight.

"Harry and I are going to see what we can find out. But on top of that, we have some friends... Buster has some friends... people we can call for help without getting into an OFFICIAL investigation." Lemual Johnson looked at his wife, then over at Buster, who had turned with Mindy to follow the discussion.

"Strangers?" Rob Rogers' voice called above the din, "You want to bring in strangers?"

"Not strangers," Harry spoke up. "The people who rescued and helped Buster.

They are FBI, and they've kept our secrets this long."

"FBI?" Kristel looked doubtful, "A couple of stone-faced, by-the-book jerks who couldn't find their asses with both hands?"

Buster walked forward and barked twice to negate Kristel's statement. He used body language and little noises to communicate to the other Dogs in the room, to convince them, especially's Kristel's Arabella. The Dogs understood. If one of theirs said a human could be trusted... they would trust them without reservation.

Buster barked once. Yes. Fox and Dana. Get Fox and Dana...

James Hyatt was cold, even with his coat on. His hands were tied behind him and they'd covered his face with a black cloth bag. He heard Della sniffling softly next to him. He wanted to cry too.

The bad men had left. He couldn't hear them in the room any more, but he could hear the wind howling outside, which made him shiver again.

"Jimmy?" Della's voice was shaky.

"I'm here Della," he leaned over and felt his shoulder touch hers. He scooted his bottom over to press his side against her, trying to share warmth and comfort. He had to be strong, for both of them. He was the oldest. Della was just a kid. "Can you see anything?"

"N...no. They put a sack over my head, and my hands are tied behind me. I think it's plastic ties." She lay her head on his shoulder. "Why are they doing this, Jimmy?"

"I don't know, Della. I don't know."

"Jimmy, I'm scared. They killed Daisy." Della sniffed again.

"Maybe they just hurt her. I bet she's managed to go get Jonathan and they went for help right away. I bed Dad and Mom are looking for us right now."

They both froze when they heard a clicking noise. It was a familiar sound.

Dog claws on hardwood. A dog? Had they been locked up with a regular old dog? Maybe something big and mean like a doberman or a pit bull...

A largeish head pushed into James' stomach, a familiar feel, a gesture of affection. He felt a nose poke at his face through the fabric and sweet breath in his face. Sweet, because all their Companions had an additive put in their water to reduce their doggy breath, by their own request.

"Daisy!" James cried out happily and was answered by a soft *Whuff*.

"Daisy?" Della shifted at James' side. "I thought they killed you. How did you find us girl?"

They received no answer. Instead they felt their friend lay over their combined laps, sharing her heat with them and calming their shivers.

3. Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

The garage had been emptied of Travis's jeep and a table placed in the middle. Five people stood around the table. One canine form lay on it.

Deb Prewitt looked sadly from Travis to Harry to Lem, "Shall we begin?"

She wore a pair of surgical gloves and she nodded to Mary McKibben, the other veterinarian of the group.

Deb bent over Daisy's corpse with grim determination. She was not objective, she wanted the person responsible to pay for this, but she was cautious, because she wanted James and Della back almost as much as Travis and Nora.

"One shot. To the eye. You'll all be relieved to know she died instantly, most likely didn't even know what hit her. Exit wound is in the back of her head." She was stating the obvious. The back of Daisy's skull was gone. Deb kept her voice flat, yet she could not turn off her heart.

She had delivered Daisy's pups, had been part of The Family for ten years.

This was no ordinary animal lying here, never to rise again. This was once a wonderful, loving being who could play a mean game of chess or Doom on the computer. Daisy had once personally beaten Deb, herself, at chess. Daisy had also been a writer. She had a series of disks loaded with the history of The Dogs, from her father, Einstein's, earliest memories and what Lem could tell her, and up to Buster and Mindy's litter.

"Deb, look at this." Mary lifted one of Daisy's front paws.

Embedded in the nails was a faint blue coloration.

"Lem, give me a baggie." Deb held out her hand. She scraped a few flakes into the bag. "It's blue. Didn't Jonathan identify a blue or gray van? I'm betting Daisy managed to scrape at it somehow. It looks like the kind of flaking you get when you scrape a car's paint job. Not too powdery."

Lem took the bag and held it up. "Travis, can you charter a direct flight to DC? Harry, call in our friends, have them meet the charter at the airport.

We have friends who can check out this paint."

Travis nodded. "Right on it. Gunmen?"

Lem nodded. "As resourceful as any official lab. I'll bet they can give us the shade and maker, as well as what auto manufacturers used it on what cars during what years. It's a good lead."

Travis left the garage to make the calls.

A new language had cropped up among those who KNEW. Anyone who knew and kept

the secret, who honored the existence of the Dogs whether they were adopted by one or not, was part of The Family. A unit. A group devoted to one another though the wonder of knowledge, bound by bonds as strong as those of blood. All would risk anything for their friends. The Dogs, capitalized, were those special canines descended of Einstein. Companions was the name given to both the Human and Canine halves of a smaller family unit. The Dogs were not pets, and - despite what the tags they wore to appease conventional laws might say - their human companions never really owned them. A human never chose a Dog. The Dog did the choosing.

This branch of the family were especially close. They had all arrived two days after Thanksgiving and planned on staying until next week. Thirty one people and twenty eight Dogs had been enjoying an idealistic vacation. Most of those people were employees of Hyatt Homes, the real estate business run by Travis and Nora. The rest were friends met through an odd assortment of circumstances, all bound together by a secret. A wonderful secret. The knowledge of the Dogs.

The Chalet was segregated for the first time in days. The men in the group were gathered in the living room, speaking in hushed voices.

The children were sleeping, in each of their rooms a pair of Dog's slept in rotations, one alert while the other slept. Constant guards.

Nora was in the kitchen baking. Her hands working dough, her mind trying to focus on the simple task. Trying, in fact, not to think. When stressed, Nora baked.

A group of women also had gathered in the kitchen, seated around the table.

None offered to help Nora. They knew her well enough to know she needed the mundane simplicity of the task. Kristel Oxley-Johns and Nancy Lemieux kept looking from one another to Nora. Watching over her. Waiting for the first sign that intervention was needed. Mel Mooney and Michelle Siiberg were trying to talk of harmless things, the last houses they sold. Sheryl Martin had sat with them for all of five minutes before her own pent up frustration and anger forced her to leave.

"Goin' for a walk," she'd said. Only pausing to grab her ski jacket, she had almost run from the place, Wookie pacing at her heels, his eyes worried.

Currently Nora was convinced if she stopped baking she would go mad. She would stand in the middle of this kitchen and stare at nothing as her mind snapped under the strain. Her babies were gone. Taken. Stolen. They could be hurt... She scooped up another handful of cocoa to add to the cake batter in the bowl. They were definitely scared, wanting their mother and father...

She set to beating the mix together with violent strokes of the wooden spoon. Had they been forced to see their friend murdered before their eyes?

The bowl broke in her hand from the force of her stirring.

Kristel and Nancy were up and at her side in an instant. Nancy grabbed a dish rag and began cleaning the glass and chocolate batter.

"Nora, maybe you should..." Krystel started.

"Should what? I should be out there looking for my babies, but I can't. I don't know where they are. The snow... the snow has already erased their footprints. It's like they were never out there at all. Why did I let them leave the chalet? Why did I let them out of my sight?" Nora began to wring her hands.

Einstein was at her side then, his nose pressed into her leg. He whined in the back of his throat.

She looked down at him. He'd lain out the scrabble tiles they still kept in a dispenser for emergency messages.

NOT YOUR FAULT. MINE.

Nora sobbed and fell to her knees. "Oh, no, Furface. Never. Never yours. I know how you are thinking and you stop it right now. If I never met you, I'd never have known Travis. I'd never have learned to trust. And James and Della would never have been born. You are the root of all good in our lives.

Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

They all looked up as Travis came through the back door. He took in the scene and closed his eyes, his face etched with pain. He needed to do something, say something to offer Nora hope.

"They found blue paint under Daisy's claws. From the van Jonathan saw, or so we think. I'm going to call John, have him get his plane out here. Lem's gonna take the paint out to DC and have the boys look at it. He's also gonna call Buster's friends and they'll most likely fly back here with John by morning."

"Hours." Nora half whispered.

"We're going to organize a search party, too. Everyone with a four wheel drive will be out on the roads, stopping at the other chalets, rental places and any building we see to ask if anyone saw a blue van. Maybe we can find out where they went." Travis knelt beside his wife, his brown eyes met her gray ones. The other people in the kitchen ceased to exist. "We will find them, Nora. We will do everything in our considerable power to find them."

Nora believed him. Not because she was foolish, or unrealistic, but because she had no other choice. She HAD to believe him.

Hope looked around with satisfaction. The kitchen was in order. Every other room might be full of boxes of unpacked books, knickknacks and such, but the kitchen was a serene island of clean white tile and hardwood floor.

After dinner Dana had sent the 'work crew' home with many thanks and all the left overs. Then she had started to unpack the rest of the dishes and pans, the appliances and other things that personalized a kitchen.

Hope had let out an exasperated sigh and dug in beside her. If her step-mother thought she was gonna be lifting things into the higher cabinets she was out of her mind. Hope did not want to have to explain to Mulder how Dana's water broke trying to wrestle a bunch of glass serving dishes into the cupboard.

It was almost eleven, and both women were ready to drop, but at least ONE room in the new house was done.

Hope looked at Scully. She was looking particularly worn out as she leaned against the center island.

"You know, we should have done the bathroom first, then we wouldn't have to dig through the boxes for towels and soap."

Scully smiled. "They're in the box on the vanity up there. Just open it up and you're all ready. Shampoo as well."

"Where did you learn all this stuff. You take organization to a whole new level... either that or you give the word anal a whole new meaning."

Hope dodged the swipe at her head.

"My Dad was in the Navy. My family moved around a lot when I was growing up.

Mom had the whole moving process down to a science. The rest of us kinda picked up on it."

"Lucky for us. You saved a lot of work, that's for sure. You get the shower first.... age before beauty."

This time she wasn't fast enough and she did get the thwack upside her head.

The shower was running upstairs when she hear the chirrup of a cell phone.

Hope looked about the living room and it's horde of boxes and despaired of ever finding the source. However, following the sound she discovered Dana's winter coat hanging on the rack by the door. She reached into the pocket and found the disturbance. She thumbed the 'speak' button.

"You have reached the phone of Dana Scully, she can't come to her cell phone right now but if you leave your name, number and brief message she'll be sure to call you back. Beeeep."

"Is this Hope?" A stranger's voice asked. There was the sound of an engine in the background.

"Um...Last time I checked in the mirror."

"This is Lemual Johnson. We met at your dad's wedding."

Hope remembered the dignified black man who had escorted the two very special Dogs to the ceremony. "Oh yes, I remember you, Mr. Johnson. Can I take a message?"

"Can you have them call me at my cell number as soon as possible? Tell them it's life and death."

The shower had turned off upstairs. "Wait a second, if it's that urgent..."

Hope ran up the stairs with the phone. "Dana, Lem Johnson on the line. He said its life and death." She opened the bathroom door a crack and passed the phone in the narrow opening.

Dana took it.

Hope curbed her natural curiosity and went to the room she'd been told was hers whenever she wanted. The guys had put the bed together, and the mattresses were on it, but it was unmade. She hadn't expected any boxes in this room, but there was one right inside the door. Black marker labeled it 'Hope's Room'. She frowned and lifted it to the bed. It weighed about ten pounds and was somewhat large. She ripped open the tape and peered inside.

Two sheet sets one in cream, the other in a rose print and a comforter. She lifted them out and was startled to find a framed picture nestled at the bottom. It was an enlargement of one of the family portraits that had survived the fire at her old home.

It showed herself at the age of six or so sitting on her Momma's lap, her Daddy stood behind them and leaning in. He had one hand on Momma's shoulder and the other on Hope's. It was the last family portrait the Jamison's had taken as a family of three. Three months later Maria Jamison would learn she wasn't suffering from menstrual cramps, but advanced ovarian cancer. Less than a year after this was taken Hope and her Daddy had watched them place the casket in the ground. It had been one of her favorite portraits. How had they known?

She wiped a stubborn tear from her eye, but another splashed on the glass covering the picture. Mulder must have gone through every page of the blackened albums after he discovered Hope's existence, saving what he could.

He'd had them set into new albums. Many pictures were lost forever, but a surprising number had been salvageable. He'd given them to her two months after they had met. She'd often wondered how long he had poured over them himself. Seeing her as a baby in them, as a toddler, her first class pictures... seeing her happy with the Jamisons. Had he been hurt by it? Did he wish it had been him holding her for her first steps? Yeah, most likely.

Her dad had the biggest capacity for self flagellation and undue guilt of anyone she'd ever met. Must be the Jewish heritage, she decided with a smirk.

However, this picture had not been in the albums he'd given her. She'd thought it lost. Now she knew he'd had it enlarged and framed. She ran her fingers over the glass. She set the unexpected gift on the empty nightstand by her bed. Tomorrow she'd retrieve another picture from her dorm at Georgetown U. The one she kept ther from the wedding. It was of her, Dad and Dana in front of Japanese garden exhibit. She liked it because in that...

they looked like a family. All of them smiling, Mulder standing between his new wife and Hope, his arms around their shoulders. Yes. That one would sit right next to the picture of the Jamisons.

She looked at her door. Dana had been quiet for a long while.

Tearing herself away from the pictures she went to the open door of the master bedroom. Dana had a suitcase on the bed and she was opening boxes, transferring folded clothes from boxes to suitcase.

"Dana, what's wrong?"

She looked up at Hope. She wasn't in her nightgown, but in a trapeze sweater and wool leggings. Her feet were shoved into boots. "I have to meet a plane in three hours."

"Three hours? Two a.m.? That's insane. Dana, I know you aren't doing field work, and let's face it, what airline is going to let you fly at this late date?" Hope gestured to the bulk the green trapeze sweater did nothing to hide.

"Private charter, private matter." She drug out another suitcase and pulled out a box of Mulder's clothes.

"Dad too?"

"Plane's gonna pick him up in Georgia. Hellen's flying back commercially, alone." She shoved jeans and sweaters into Mulder's suitcase.

"Private matter? As in... I'm not to know." Hope let the hurt into her voice.

Scully sighed. "Hope, its about the Dogs. Two children have been kidnapped, and the people that took them know about the Dogs. Therefore official help can't be brought in. We know the secrets, and hopefully we can find the children before they are hurt."

Hope nodded. "I'll go pack."

"No. You stay here, you have classes."

"I'll make them up. You need someone to carry those bags, and whether you like to admit it or not... Dana, you are due in less then four weeks. I'll stay out of the way, I promise. However, YOU can't go chasing after the bad guys in your condition, and Dad won't be able to stay with you if he IS chasing the bad guys. It's either me or... I'm calling your mother."

"Hope..."

"Don't try it. I have the Mulder stubborn streak. You forget, I'm financially independent of you and Dad. I can just dip into my inheritance and follow you on a charter. That call was from Lem Johnson... he and the other Dogs are in California... but you're packing for cold."

Scully shook her head. "You would just go and get yourself lost... Alright, go pack. But the minute you get in the way we're shipping your ass back here."

Hope grinned and ran for her car keys. She could pack her things at the dorm and be back in less than an hour.

Scully looked at the empty doorway. "Mulder is gonna kill me."

4. Dog is My Co-Pilot

"Mulder, you are out of your fucking mind. I mean, I knew you were nuts, but you're dragging Dana into this little trip to lala land, too."

Mulder's grip on his garment bags tightened. Damnit, Matthews really fought dirty when she wanted to.

"Scully called ME, right after our friend did. It's a Family emergency."

Pretty good, he reasoned with himself. He wasn't technically lying. He cursed that his long legs made no difference with Matthews. She was also tall, and he couldn't outpace her at a brisk walk. "There are provisions for that, you know. And if you think I can stop Dana from doing anything you're the one who's out of their fucking mind."

The air in Georgia was nippy. Not as nearly as cold as it was in DC at this time of year, and not as cold as Colorado.

Both agents had passed airport security with calls of conformation on their badges. They stood on the tarmac of the private section of runway. Mulder checked his watch then saw the plane. On time. The plane wasn't as small as he'd expected. It landed on the runway, then turned back to stop a hundred yards from them.

Mulder walked out to it even as the door opened and a set of flimsy looking metal steps hung down. He saw Hellen was right behind him. Great.

Ascending the six steps he crouched and entered the plane. Scully smiled at him then pushed past him and out the door. He had to admit he'd hoped for a more... enthusiastic greeting.

Hope laughed and his eyes darted to her, surprise on his face.

"What the hell..."

"I'm looking out for Dana. I promised to stay out of the way. I also pointed out I'd just hop the next commercial flight if you tried to stop me coming WITH you." Hope noticed Hellen enter the plane. "Um... I didn't realize..."

"She's not coming. I think she was gonna try to convince Scully not to finish this trip." Mulder stuffed his bags in the back of the plane.

"Damn straight, but she tore off across the tarmac." Hellen frowned.

"Ladies room. John forgot to install one." Hope nodded to the front of the plane.

It was only then that Mulder noticed the pilot, a dark haired man in his early thirties who removed his headset and offered Mulder his hand. "John Strasser, pleased to meet you."

Mulder shook his hand, then noticed the co-pilot, unfortunately at the same time Hellen did. "This has GOT to be against FAA rules."

The co-pilot barked at her once.

Mulder grinned. One bark meant yes.

"That's Yogi Bear. Sometimes we call him Yogi, sometimes we call him Bear.

Depends on his mood mostly. If it's any consolation ma'am, Yogi knows this plane as well as I do, and he flies fine, it's just landings he has trouble with." John grinned.

"The world has gone nuts. I'm the only sane person left." Hellen mumbled.

"I wouldn't go that far, Matthews. If it makes you feel better I think you're a few sandwiches short of a picnic, myself." Mulder sat in the first aisle seat it gave him plenty of leg room.

"Yeah, like I'd trust your judgment," Hellen snorted.

"I am a psychologist, you know. If you want I can have you committed..."

"The only thing I should be committed for is accepting being assigned YOU as a partner." She threw up her hands. "Hope, if I were to tell Eddie half the shit I now know about this character, he'd be pullin out his hair with worry over you and I'd have to spend my life with a bald man."

"You'd drop Eddie for Skinner?" Mulder smirked.

Hellen was saved from responding by Scully climbing back into the plane. "We all set? Oh, Hi Hellen."

"Dana, a dog is your co-pilot." Hellen gestured to the open cabin.

"Hellen, I hadn't realized you were dyslexic." Mulder grinned, he was finally getting his back and loved it.

"Fuck you, Mulder."

"Not in front of my wife, please. Thanks for seeing me to the airport. I'll see you when we get back. If Skinner has questions on the report he has my cell number. Goodbye, don't forget to write and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Hellen, I'll be fine. Hope is going to be fine. Some friends need our help, so we're going. If you keep this up you might hyperventilate." Scully squeezed the taller woman's shoulder. "I'll call you when we get there if it'll make you feel better."

"It would." Hellen glared at Mulder. "I KNOW this is all one huge ploy just so *I* have to face Skinner tomorrow with this crazy assed psychic killer report of yours, Mulder. I'm not amused." With that she exited the plain.

"Ok everyone, please be seated and buckle up. Place your trays in their upright positions." John actually set a headset on Yogi's head, over the retriever's closed ear flaps. Only then replacing his own. "Tower this is flight 021270 on route to Colorado..." He spewed off coordinates and their flight plan as Mulder felt Scully settle next to him. No matter how annoyed he was that she's allowed Hope to come, her presence was comforting. He'd missed her this last week.

"Hey, beautiful." He took her hand.

"Hey there, yourself." She handed him a plain file folder. "The guys gave us these to look over. It's all they have so far."

Mulder flipped open the file. Inside was pictures of two children, a boy and a girl aged thirteen and ten. Both had dark hair and sweet smiles. Every shot of them featured one or more retrievers. James and Della Hyatt.

He'd read up on Samuel and Nora Hyatt right after they'd returned from the fiasco involving Buster. He'd also looked up the records on Travis Cornell and Nora Devon.

The Hyatts currently owned a real estate firm that placed their liquid assets at around 3.5 million. It was not as surprising as it might seem for people who literally did not exist thirteen years ago. Travis Cornell had been pretty good at real estate. Just like he'd been pretty good in the Delta Force anti terrorist corps. Travis was damn good at just about everything he'd done. Nora was his second wife. His first, Paula had died of cancer, apparently sending Cornell into a downward spiral that he didn't come out of until he ran into an escaped lab animal, Einstein. The first Dog. Bred to be human smart. Soon after he'd taken in Einstein he'd met Nora Devon, who almost didn't exist at all, according to records. They'd married in Vegas and almost immediately, Travis and Nora Cornell ceased to exist.

They became new people. People Einstein couldn't be traced to. People with a clean slate.

Einstein wasn't the only thing that escaped the government funded lab though. A killing machine had also escaped. And it hated The Dog. It was connected to Einstein on some psychic level. It killed too many people before finally finding the Dog and its new family. It hadn't reckoned on someone trained in the Delta Force, or the loyalty the Dog inspired. The creature known as the Outsider died in the Hyatt's garage.

Supposedly, and according to all official records, The Outsider had killed the Dog before Hyatt killed IT. Luckily that report had been filed by none other then Lemual Johnson.

Now someone had kidnapped the Hyatt's kids. Mulder's fingers traced the little girl's face. She was a year older than Sam had been, but this time no older brother had been left behind. He, too, was missing. These kids were taken, and a demand made for money, more than the Hyatt's could possibly get without aid, AND for the last litter of the Dogs. Buster's litter. His friend's children. These people in essence wanted to trade five children for two. Did it matter that the five had fur coats and paws? They were not human, but they thought as humans do, and they had human feelings. They were, in essence, much more like children then puppies.

The plane began to move and Mulder looked up from the map of the resort's layout. Their pilot was absorbed in his pre-flight activities and preparations for take off.

"Do you think they're alive, Dad?"

Mulder looked back to see Hope sitting behind them.

"Yes. I do. Killing them wouldn't get them what they want. If the Hyatts ask for proof that they're alive this person has to give it to them or risk losing his deal."

"But why kill the Dog, Daisy, if they want some of the Dogs alive? It makes no sense."

Mulder looked to Scully for her support, but she was sound asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. He looked back at the file Lem had drawn up for them. It DIDN'T make sense, except Daisy was of the first litter. Einstein's daughter. She was eleven years old. Getting on in doggie years. Maybe they required the puppies because they'd be melliable. Trainable. More easily broken. More years ahead of them.

He began working on a profile in his head, a rough draft as the plane took off.

5. Hair of the Dog

Mulder woke up to the sound of engines. Plane engines.

There was a weight on his shoulder and his arm was asleep. Looking over he saw Scully sleeping peacefully against him, her cheek pressed against his coat. If the mild crink in his neck was any indication he had the imprint of her hair on his cheek. He moved his head around, carefully, loosening up that annoying crink without waking his wife. There was a touch of sunlight outside the plane window.

Mulder looked forward at the unconcealed cabin and felt his skin chill.

Their pilot was also sound asleep. His head back on the seat, his mouth slightly open, and a soft snore to confirm the obvious.

The earphone-bedecked Dog, Yogi, looked back at him, and Mulder could have sworn he was grinning.

Joking with Hellen aside, Mulder was not comfortable with the idea that not only his life, but that of his wife and... children... were now in the hands, or was that paws, of a Dog. Gut instinct. It looks like a dog, it smells like a dog, it barks like a dog, it MUST be a dog. Rationally he knew the amazing mind lurking behind those soulful, yet mischievous, eyes. But his rational mind was having a hell of a time convincing his irrational hands to pry their fingers away from the arms of the seat.

"You know what you are doing, right?" he asked the Dog.

His answer was two soft whuffs.

Wait a minute! TWO! Two meant NO!

The momentary panic must have shown because the Dog's shoulders shook and his eyes danced merrily.

The damned Dog was JOKING.

"Ha, ha. I'm highly amused. You're a regular Robin Williams."

John must have awoken at the sounds of conversation. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at Yogi.

"Everything all right?"

One whuff this time.

"Making the passangers nervous?" John looked back at Mulder with a grin.

Another single whuff.

"Bad dog."

The Dog stood in the seat, turned around and lifted his hind quarters, his tail high. Without words Yogi had managed to say 'kiss my ass' quite nicely.

"Are they all smart asses?" Mulder looked away from Yogi to John.

"Yeah, pretty much. I guess they all learned their humor from Einstein, and he was just BORN a smartass."

"I've never met him." Mulder stretched his legs and tried clenching and unclenching the fingers of his right hand to get the blood flowing again.

"You will today. I can't wait to see you and Travis together. I have to admit, seeing you get on the plane was quite a shock. Shame I can't come with you to see you two meet." John checked his instrument panel and checked the time.

"Why?"

"Agent Mulder, you could be Travis' younger brother. He wears his hair shorter, and he has gray in it, but you have the same build, same height, and except for the mole and the nose, almost the same face." John leaned over in his seat, peering at Mulder. "What color eyes you got?"

Mulder frowned. "Hazel. They change."

John nodded. "Different eyes then. Travis has really dark brown ones, almost black. Still an uncanny resemblance."

Hope announced her wakefulness with a whiny, "Are we there yet?"

John smiled. "Almost. We land in thirty minutes."

The runway was free of snow, but the rest of the landscape was frosted over.

Scully hadn't said a word in complaint, but Mulder could tell by her posture as they landed that she needed to find the ladies room again, as soon as they landed. He COULD tease her about it, but decided he liked his manhood just where it was, thankyouverymuch.

Their landing was smooth and without incident. Thankfully, JOHN landed the plane. Yogi only watched over the procedure.

When they stepped outside, the frigid air snatched away their breath.

A Jeep Cherokee was parked to the side. Both the drivers side door and the passenger door opened. Harry Baker stepped out of the vehicle, but a blur of boundless, red-furred energy raced at them then jumped up on Mulder, almost knocking him over as Buster licked his chin.

"Buster! Great to see you too, boy." He dropped his bags and scratched the Dog behind the ears. Only to have Buster abandon him to sit before Scully.

He didn't jump on her.

The Dog cocked his head to the side and studied her. His eyes seemed to hold both pride and approval. She bent to pet him briefly.

Buster looked at Hope and treated her as he had her father. They had only met briefly before, but they had impressed each other.

"Any news, Harry?" Mulder loaded their bags into the Cherokee while Scully disappeared into the hanger to their left.

"None." The older man looked grim. "We decided against ASKING people about the van, as it might tip off the kidnappers, so we've been pretty much driving around hoping to spot it. Needle in a haystack if ya ask me. Travis, Lem and I thought these people must have followed us from California. If they knew about us, about the Dogs, it was the most likely starting point.

I've been running a computer check on all rental blue vans, all makes and models, rented in the area within the last two weeks." Harry opened the back door for Hope and Buster and they climbed in. "Einstein is still running it while I came to pick you up."

Harry looked toward the hanger. "I have to admit, I don't think any of us realized how far along Dana was. We would never have asked her..."

"And she'd have come anyway." Mulder grinned. "Both the women in my life have a stubborn streak."

Just then Scully returned, looking much relieved.

James awoke surprised he'd fallen asleep. His arms were numb, and he was still chilled, but Daisy's comforting warmth had helped ward off the worst of the cold.

"Daisy?" Jimmy was amazed that his legs had not fallen asleep from her wieght.

A single, soft whuff answered him.

"Daisy, you have to go, you have to get help."

Two soft whuffs. No. No? Why?

"Daisy, we need you to get help."

He felt her shiver on his lap. She whined in the back of her throat.

"Daisy?" Della's voice. She was awake, too.

With a frightening suddenness Daisy's weight and warmth was gone, and there was the sound of a door being thrown open, banging against a wall. Frigid wind whipped into the room and tore at the children's body heat.

"Rise and shine, brats. It's breakfast time."

Jimmy knew the direction of the voice by the sound and tried to place himself between the speaker and Della.

It didn't work, of course. The sack mask was untied and lifted from the boy's head. Jimmy blinked against the light.

Two men stood in the room. They wore ski masks. The room was bare of all furniture but a table in the middle. The windows were mostly boarded over, but there was light streaming in through cracks.

The speaker bent down and put two bowls of dry dog food and a single bowl of water on the floor. "Chow down." His laugh was cruel, and made Jimmy's skin crawl.

"I'm not hungry," Jimmy managed through clenched teeth.

"You will be eventually, and that's all you're getting. We'll just leave it fer ya." He kicked the bowl of food closer then turned and both men left.

Jimmy heard them turn a lock.

Jimmy looked over at Della. She too was free of the sack, and she was staring at the bowls on the floor with tears in her eyes.

"Della, it'll be ok. Mom and dad will find us." Jimmy tried to sound reassuring.

"I'm scared, Jimmy." She leaned back against the wall. "Where's Daisy?"

Jimmy looked around and saw no trace of their friend. Maybe she had gotten out and gone for help after all.

"I think she went for help. Just hold on, Della." Jimmy looked down to see the rope tying his ankles. Just plain rope. If he could free his hands he could undo the rope in no time. But his hands were the problem.

His fingers traced the contraption. The plastic handcuff ties he'd seen on COPS by the feel of it. He couldn't break them or loosen them no matter how much he tried. He ended up only hurting his wrists.

He needed a plan.

The ride had been dicey. The rodes had been plowed and salted, but a light snow continued to fall. The ski resorts were most likely in ecstasy.

The car pulled up in front of a large chalet and a bunch of people and Dogs literally poured out of it. The man in front if the wave made Mulder understand John Strausser's observations.

Mulder got out of the car and offered his hand to Travis Hyatt. The two men were amazingly alike.

Scully stepped around the car and grinned. "Now there is an X-File for you, Mulder."

6. Dogging Their Heels

The dining area of the Hyatt's Chalet had been turned into an amazingly efficient base. Maps were spread across the table and there was a Dog sitting at a computer, a mouse under one paw, and a stylus in his mouth.

That, Mulder assumed, was Einstein, the Dog engineered at Banadyne Labs fifteen years ago. That is if the heavy streaks of gray in his coat, and a thick set of glasses attached to his face with an elastic style band wrapped around his head were any indication.

There was a series of introductions, both human and canine, then Hyatt motioned to the maps. "We've marked every shack, house, rental place and hotel in the area that we've checked for a blue van. Those are the yellow dots. We've got a team out now, checking parking lots, garages and drive ways."

"Can I see the ransom note?" Mulder noticed Hope moving away from the table.

She saw a woman, Kristel, surrounded by the other children of the group. She had their attention as she told a story, a benevolent Denmother.

Hope sat behind a toddler who was getting antsy. She picked the child up and placed the little girl on her lap, bouncing her on her knee and pretending to steal her nose.

Frank Gesuele handed Mulder the note. "Harry already dusted it. No prints."

Scully stood at Mulder's side and read.

"Have they contacted you again?" Mulder asked, noting the common bond paper used, the note was printed on a computer. Laser printer quality.

Travis shook his head. "No."

Mulder studied the note. Something was bothering him about it, and he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Your estimated liquid worth is 2.5, isn't it? Yet, they ask for double that. Either they haven't been watching you as closely as you think or..."

Mulder looked quickly away from Travis and met Scully's eyes.

"Or they don't want me to pay? You think this is revenge of some sort?"

Travis' hands were balled into fists at his sides.

"How many enemies do you have, Mr. Hyatt?" Scully asked softly.

"Personally? Not many. Our mutual enemies might just be sick enough to try this, with their sole object the puppies and not the money."

Mulder nodded. Those who clung to the shadows couldn't PROVE that Einstein and his get actually existed. They might suspect, but all their attempts to obtain on of the Dogs had, thus far, failed.

"It's possible, but not their style. They'd never have bothered mentioning money, just a straight out trade for the pups." Mulder scanned the note again.

So what DO you think they want, Mr. Mulder?" Travis sat back in one of the dining room chairs. He looked dead tired and frayed at the edges.

"I think they want the money. But I don't think we're dealing with rocket scientists here." Mulder gestured with the note.

"Speak for yourself." A small but well built redhead stepped from the kitchen. She crossed her arms disapprovingly. She looked like she spent plenty of time at the gym.

Mulder frowned. "Huh?"

"Lioness Smythe. And I'm a rocket scientist." She stood behind Travis and the room filled with some much needed laughter.

X "Damnit, Hank, my leg hurts." The large man pulled his leg up onto the over-worn couch and once again pulled up the leg of his sweatpants. The bandage was at least clean this time. The two previous changes had left blood slowly seeping through. It was a fire in his leg, and it really hurt to stand on. "Ya think that mutt had rabies?"

"You foamin at the mouth, Mike?" Hank tossed back another beer. "Nah, they keep those dogs in top shape. Probably was healthier then you. Quitcher bitchen and help me out here... Think we should have Hyatt drop the money at the old corner store?"

Mike shrugged. "Works for me. What happens if they don't pay?"

"Then we just walk away." Hank grinned through his beard. "Storm's movin in.

Oughtta be here in two days. Tied up and without heat, weather'll take care of the brats for us."

Hank Dryden considered himself a lucky man. All his life things usually just fell into his lap. Like this deal, for instance. His cousin was a hacker, first rate too. He'd once worked for this crime boss outta Vegas. Once, when ol cousin Kirk was boozed up but good, he'd spilled about one of his best pieces of work. Counterfieiting untraceable and complete backgrounds for this couple on the run. He didn't know much about the couple, only that they were desperate, like all the clients he'd dealt with. And that their new name was Hyatt. Used to be Cornell.

Cousin Kirk usually didn't drink. He got too talkative when he drank. He shouldn't have drank that night. But he'd just gotten engaged and was celebrating.

There was no wedding. Poor Kirk was found with a bullet in his head the next morning.

Hank smiled. He'd never killed anyone before. It had felt good. He and he alone held the power of life an death over someone. That other person had no choice. It was all up to Hank.

He'd felt like God.

Armed with that little tidbit of information Hank had started to look around. Anyone named Hyatt fell under his inspection at one time or another.

The knowledge he had ought to be good for SOME blackmail money. It was only four months ago he's noticed Hyatt Homes. It was a kinda big operation. All manner of real eastate. And the couple who ran it fit Kirk's description just perfect.

Not only were they living lives not theirs... but it soon became apparent that they were runnin' some sort of purebred puppy mill. All the mutts crawlin around, they had to be rakin in plenty under the table.

Now Hank had got to thinkin' they might just laugh in his face if he went up and tried the direct demand for a cut. But these two had kids. They seemed to be spoiled kids. If he and his brother managed to get their hands on one or both of the brats... then the Hyatts would have to hand over the money, right?

Hank popped open anothe beer and took a chug. Yep, it took a couple a weeks of planin' and diggin' around, but they'd hatched this little plan. It was a sweet one. Soon, the money, like a lot of other things, would just fall into Hank's lap. And he just might share it with his shit stupid brother, too.

X James was beginning to worry. His fingers were stiff and numb with cold. He looked at his sister. Della was curled into a ball of misery.

James began to hear a scraping sound. An insistent clawing. Something digging at wood.

"Daisy?" He called out. The little room was empty. However, the noise continued.

All at once the metal ring once attached to the wall fell with a clatter.

James looked at it. It had once grounded a old wood stove pipe to the wall.

His eyes looked up to where it had been. There were deep furrows in the wood surrounding the blackened impression it left behind. Claw marks. Like those of a dog.

James swallowed, his throat suddenly gone dry. The metal ring moved toward him a little. There was nothing to move it. Then again. It was being pushed across the floor.

James' eyes were as big as saucers as he looked over at Della, who was also watching the progress of the metal ring.

"Daisy?" She asked into the nothingness.

The single woof startled them both, and James wanted to pee his pants. he had wanted to for a while now but that was beside the point.

Della was sniffling now. Wet tracks smearing down her face. "I knew... I knew they got you, girl."

The only answer was the ring rolling over to bump against James' leg. It wad a ragged edge. Maybe ragged enough to saw through the plastic cuffs.

James tried to slow his hammering heart.

"D... daisy? I... this is crazy."

Something warm and comforting puffed in his face and he felt the familiar head butt against his chest. But there was nothing there.

Mulder looked away from the maps currently being updated. Some people had just come in and made their reports. Einstein had found nothing in any rental agency computers. They were getting nowhere, and time was running out.

He knew the longer the children were missing the worse their chances were.

It had only been 48 hours, but things were currently looking bleak.

He felt a paw on his leg and looked down. It was a Dog, but not a full retriever. This one was mixed with... beagle maybe. It's fur was very short and it's head, back and sides were brown. It's belly and tip of it's tail were white, as were the four 'socks' on it's legs.

"That's Tramp." Harry handed Mulder a cup of coffee. "He hasn't picked a family yet. Daisy was his mother. Buster has been working on him, talking you and Agent Scully up as only Dogs can. I think he's considering you two."

The Dog cocked his head to one side and seemed to have engaged Mulder in a staring contest.

"I'm not sure that would be such a great idea. They're still looking for these guys, as if the disappearance of these kids weren't proof enough."

"But Tramp is half Beagle. He doesn't look like the rest. Only ten crossbreeds around now. But those numbers are growing. Perfect camouflage, ya know. Besides, Buster thinks you two need looking after."

Mulder broke eye contact with the Dog to look at Harry. "So now you're taking advice from a Dog?"

"When it's good advice. Don't look at me, I'm not the one who needed one of these too smart fleabags to wake me up and see what was in front of me all along. You ask me you should be namin' that kid o' yours after Buster. If it weren't for him..."

"Ha, ha." Mulder absently reached down to stroke Tramp's squarish head as he looked at the ransom note again.

What was it? Something about it was just off, somehow. His gut told him as much. Now his brain had to figure out what it was.

Scully sat beside Nora Hyatt. The woman summoned up a weak smile.

"I'm so sorry they dragged you out here. They shouldn't have. When are you due?"

"December twenty first." Scully smiled, "And they couldn't keep me away.

Mulder's very good at this sort of thing. If anyone can find your children..."

"I know. But what if they can't?" Nora looked away from Scully and out the window. Outside the snow was falling again. "If I lose them... how am I supposed to cope? I'm not doing well now. I don't know if they're hurt, or hungry or warm... It's eating me alive."

Scully looked away as well. Not sure what to say. Her eyes fell on Hope who was playing with a beautiful blonde toddler. Her hand went to her own distended stomach. What could she say? How could any mother cope?

7. Paws For Effect

Ron Phillips scanned the roads for signs of recent passage. This area was pretty remote, and not much plowing had been done. Just the main routes.

Slappy sat with her nose pressed against the passenger window, the condensation from his breath misting the glass.

Just about ready to turn back Slappy let out a soft whuff, to get Ron's attention.

To the left was a service road. The fresh snow had softened the ruts of the tire tracks, but hadn't yet obliterated them.

"Good work." Ron gave his friend a half smile and turned onto the tricky road. Even the four wheel drive was a bit hard put to keep the vehicle under control. Ron kept his speed at something near a slow crawl and his eyes on the indentations of the tire tracks.

About ten miles in he hit paydirt. He stopped the car and peered through the lightly falling snow.

A cabin was up ahead, lights on inside. In front of the cabin, topped with snow, sat a light blue Aerostar.

"Paydirt."

He opened the door for Slappy and watched as the Dog slunk out into the cold. Approaching carefully he crept closer to the van. Inside the car Ron was already dialing his borrowed cell phone.

It was picked up on the first ring.

"It's Ron, I think I might have something. Slappy went to check it out. Off of Conifer Road there is a service road on the left... about five miles past the Ranger station. Ten miles up that road is a log cabin. There's a blue van. Ford Aerostar. Can't make out the plates from here. I'm sure Slappy will get that."

"Ron, I could kiss you." Travis' voice echoed over the line.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't." Ron grinned.

Slappy jumped back in the car and Ron reached across him to pull the door closed. "Well?"

One woof. Plain and simple. It was enough.

Mulder bent over the map next to Travis.

"Ranger station is here meaning the road in question is.... here. There's nothing on the map. Great." Travis scowled.

"How do you want to do this? They may not have the kids there." Mulder was pulling at his bottom lip.

"And if they do they'll use them as hostages. Good point. OK first we send in a recon team. Someone these guys would have no reason to suspect. With them we send one or two Dogs to sniff around the premises. They drop off the Dogs here." He pointed to a spot a quarter mile from the cabin's reported site.

"How about a couple in need of a tow in bad weather? A man and his really pregnant wife?" Scully smiled wickedly and patted her belly.

"No. No way." Mulder shook his head.

"Mulder, this is the perfect job for me. I want to help. Look, these people may recognize anyone from this group, except us. We weren't here when they were looking the place over. We've never been near the Hyatts before. And no one would suspect me, this big, to pose any kind of threat at all. You'll be there as backup. No problem." Scully crossed her arms.

"We can take... Buster and Tramp. Get to the drop off point and pull the plugs on the car and have someone here on standby with a tow truck. We march to the cabin, ask to use their phone to get a tow while casually mentioning that we told some friends we were gonna check out that part of the mountain, so they know people know where we are. How can they refuse without looking suspicious themselves?"

Mulder continued to shake his head.

"Actually that sounds like a damn good idea." Travis put in.

"I don't want you anywhere near these people, Scully." Mulder met her challenging gaze.

"Try and stop me. It's either the two of us together or I go on my own. I will not be coddled, Mulder. This is one of the few things I can do here.

When you call in the information have a car there to bring me back here.

I'll skip any assault you may have planned. I promise."

"Anyone got the number for the nearest hospital?" Hope chimed in. "I mean if you people are gonna do this... even if you get the kids out and all is well with the world, someone might need medical attention. Just consider it an afterthought."

"What?" Mulder frowned. Afterthought. The word stuck in his mind. "That's it!" He snatched up the ransom note. "The demand for the puppies... it's an afterthought. Not the goal. Just thrown in at the last moment. Anyone knowing what these Dogs were would realize their value was a lot higher then the five million in cash their asking. So why tack this demand on last. Out of context with the other thoughts?"

"What're you getting at Mulder?" Nora looked puzzled then brightened. "They don't know about the Dogs at all."

"Right." Mulder smiled at her.

"But they claim they do. Why make such a claim if they haven't an idea?"

Stephanie asked as her eyes darted, for the hundredth time that day, to Jonathan. The boy was curled up in a corner of the couch, Gadget at his feet.

"Look at yourselves from an outsiders point of view." Mulder tried to explain. He noticed Travis and Nora shiver and winced at his own choice of words. "Sorry... But step back. You have no clue about the Dogs, but you see you and everyone you know with these show quality pure bred animals." Mulder met each pair of eyes as everyone focused on him. "Puppy mill. If all your friends have dogs, how much must you be raking in under the table on puppy sales? A quick check with the AKC will show you aren't certified and not paying taxes on such an operation. That's what they THINK they know."

"But how can you be sure?" Kelly Phillips challenged. "I mean we're talking lives at stake here."

"Because I used to do this for a living. I'm telling you. These people have no idea what the Dogs really represent. THAT'S why they killed Daisy. They weren't looking at her as anything but an ordinary dog."

James cursed as the ragged metal grated against his wrist once more. Jagged tremors of pain raced up his arm, and he knew he was bleeding, he could feel the wetness. At first warm, but quickly cooling.

Unwilling to give up he tried again. Slowly sawing his way through the plastic wrist cuffs.

It was taking forever, and in the process he just knew he's actually tightened the darn things because his fingers were going numb.

There had been no sign of Daisy since he had started. He didn't want to think about that. It was scary and depressing and he wanted to believe it was real but what if hewasgoingcrazy? He gritten his teeth. No. Don't think of that. Just work these cuffs off.

It seemed to take forever. Every time the plate skitted and he abraided his wrist again he'd look over at Della. She sat there, her knees drawn up in an attempt to preserve body heat. Her eyes closed, she was shaking all over.

A few minutes more and he felt the snap. His arms were free.

He brought them around and sobbed as seeing the blood and cuts made them hurt wurse. The cuffs were still around his wrists though, still too tight.

He couldn't feel his fingers.

With his teeth he worried the plastic clasp over the smooth portion of plastic and down over the raggedly stretched and cut end. Blood rushed to that hand, and burned him. Fire. The cold and lack of circulation had numbed the nerves, but the warm rush of life regained the feeling, and those nerves celebrated by telling his brain his hand was on fire.

He whimpered. Della was looking over at him now, her eyes huge, but filled with hope.

With that as his drive he worked the other side free, allowing his left hand the same agonizing freedom as his right.

Unable to stop, fearing the return of the bad men, he turned his cramped fingers to the rope tied around his legs. What had seemed easy enough in theory two days ago was now a herculien task. His shoulders began to inform him they'd been held at an odd angle for two days. His wrists and fingers hurt so much he had a terrible time feeling the rope.

It was at least an hour before he was completely free. Any time now the bad men might return, to take them into the little bathroom and stand over them and watch as they did their business. They came twice a day, and that was all. Which was fine, as neither he no Della had eaten anything. They had, however, broken down and lapped up the water from the bowl, hands behind their backs. Della had cried as she did it. James just knew she cried away at least as much as she drank.

He hated the bad men.

Della's bonds took less time. He was able to more easily wield the warped metal plate, and by the time he got to Della's feet his hands were only throbbing dully.

His sister bit her lip as she tried to rotate her shoulders.

"Now what?" She looked at him with complete faith. She fully expected him to know what to do next.

Something scratched at the door to the outside. James looked, but saw nothing. Daisy? Did it matter anymore?

"Now, we get out of here. We're gonna have to go slow and brush away our tracks for a while."

"I want Mommy." Della began to cry again, and James held her. "I do too. I bet mom and dad are worries sick. But we can't count on them knowing where to look. We have to try and find them. We gotta go."

Della nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Ok."

The door was locked. The hinges, however, were on the inside. James used the plate to get under the hinge pins and pry them up and out. The door fell a little as he pulled it back, hinged now by the padlock holding the other side.

The snow was still falling, and the cold was dangerous. James knew that, but to stay here was not an option.

The going was slow.

Mulder hated this.

He glanced to the side briefly. Scully was wrapped in a big gray coat and a blanket. Buster and Tramp sat behind them in the back seat of the borrowed Jeep.

Mulder's cell phone was hidden in the back, under the seat. They weren't to use it except in an emergency. The plan was to call from the cabin. The tow truck was right behind them and would park at the intersection. When they called in it would be to Steven Wu, who was driving the truck. He'd call and relay the news to Travis and his group.

If Mulder called and asked for a tow because he thought there was trouble with the battery, then he had reason to suspect the children were in the cabin or close by. If he claimed the transmision was shot then they had found no sign of the kids. And lastly, if he claimed to have run out of gas, then they were on the wrong track and Tribble had missidentified the van, which was unlikely.

Behind the tow truck were four more vehicles. Travis and Nora rode in one.

Both armed to the teeth. Nora would not wait quetly while others tried to save her children. Mulder admired that.

Behind them was Ron Phillips and Rob Roberts with their Dogs. The next Car held Sheryl Martin, Lioness Smythe and Deb Prewitt with their own companions. Deb was there as an emergency physician. Scully wasn't going to stay, and Deb, as a veterinarian, was the closest they had to medical personnel.

Mulder knew the guns all of them carried were unlicenced, untraceable. He didn't know why that fact didn't bother him. He was supposed to be a federal agent after all.

The last car in the line held Mary McKibben and Hope. They would be taking Scully back to the chalet as soon as the scouting mission was done. They would be out of there before the other cars even turned down the road.

Everything had been planned very carefully. Mulder wore his sig in it's ankle holster and Scully had her own weapon well hidden. She'd laughed as she wrapped a belt around herself and under her stomach. Her pregnancy would actually conceal the gun. Mulder felt his palms sweat at the very idea that it was there, that she was insisting on doing thes. The thought of her needing to use the precaution was not to be borne.

"Ready?" They had come to the intersection.

"Yep. I miss this." She smiled. She was nerveous too, but hiding it well.

Two seperate woofs from the back was all Mulder needed as he turned onto the road Ron had found.

The other cars had all pulled off the main road and sat, waiting. It was all up to them now.

As the Jeep inched through the trecherous snow Mulder suddenly felt as if they'd been cut off. They were on their own.

8. Wagging a Tail

Scully kept her gloved hands tucked under her armpits as she watched Buster and Tramp disappear into the trees. The two Dogs were heading for the same destination, but their investigation would be done outside, by scent and cunning. The Dogs had the easier job, truth be told.

Mulder finished working the spark plugs loose and slammed the hood of the car down. He met her eyes. His concerns went unvoiced, but communicated nonetheless. If the people in the cabin caught onto them escape was gonna be tricky. He'd just sabotaged their escape vehicle.

Scully felt a knot of anxiety clench around her stomach, actually pulling her muscles with its ferocity. However, she put on her brave face and smiled encouragement.

"Lead on, McDuff. You can be my trail breaker."

Mulder snorted. "Is that all I'm good for? Tromping a path through the snow?"

"Not at all, you're one hell of a cook. It's the only reason I haven't dumped you and run off with Skinner."

"And with that mental image I will now hurl my lunch." Mulder kept his steps closer together than usual as he pushed through the snow. It was about two feet deep. 'Shit,' he thought to himself, 'it's almost to her knees. We have a half mile of this crap. She shouldn't be out here. If anything happens to her...'

"What's so bad about that mental image? I mean, Skinner's a mighty fine looking man, Mulder. Tall, muscular, imposing. If you were to drop dead I'd mourn you a month before this widow'd make the moves on her boss."

"God, Scully! You really know how to boost a guy's ego." He looked back to see her struggling right on his heels. His trail breaking efforts barely putting any real dent in the snow for her. "I'm not gonna be able to attend another meeting without wanting to punch his lights out, now. Ya know that, don't ya?"

"Relax. I like hair to run my fingers through. Besides, I doubt he can cook." Scully chuckled from behind.

"And you ever notice his jaw doesn't move? I'm beginning to suspect it's wired shut."

As they went they grew quiet. The banter stopped. They needed the energy for the slow, trudging progress they made.

"Tell me again why we couldn't drive a little closer?" Scully's breath was coming in gasps now and Mulder stopped to give her a rest.

"If they investigate too closely it will look suspicious. We can rest here..."

"No." She gave him a shove. "I want to get there and into some semblance of warmth." Scully bit the inside of her cheek as her back and lower abdomen tightened in protest of the exercise.

The paw prints in the snow pointed the way.

James had been convinced the bad men would show up as he and Della walked backwards. Using branches from a dead tree found nearby they did their best to fill in their tracks as they went. The falling snow covered the brushed looking patches.

Both of them were tired and hungry. They felt their arms scream in protest as they worked. But fear motivated them. Fear and hope.

Home. They were going home.

When they were far enough from the storage shed they'd escaped James called a halt and tossed their branches into the forest.

"If they find us this far away then nothing we do is gonna help. Take a break, then we'll get moving again." James fell to the ground.

Della sunk into the snow, her back braced against a tree. She had not stopped shaking. Indeed, out here, in the snow she was worse. Their gloves had been confiscated to accommodate their handcuffs. So now Della tried to stave off frostbite by pulling her arms into her coat and hugging herself.

"I'm so tired, Jimmy. I'm gonna take a nap..."

"NO!" Jimmy struggled to his feet and caught his sister's shoulders, pulling her back up. "Bad idea. No sleeping. We have to stay awake. Moving will warm us up."

"Where's Daisy?" Della blearily scanned the forest.

Jimmy wasn't sure if he was right in the head or not, but Daisy's spirit had been leading them so far. "We can't see her, remember? Must be in the ghost rule book. Remember in Beetlejuice? They got all these rules to follow."

Jimmy pointed to the trail ahead of them. Paw prints in the snow. Part of him realized the tracks weren't as deep as they should have been. "See, she's leading us as best she can. Come on, Della. I bet when we get back Mom'll have hot chocolate... and warm beds for us."

"How far. Jimmy?" Della moved as he pushed her, but her steps were flagging.

"Not too far. It can't be too far."

The cabin was exactly where it was supposed to be. Scully looked wistfully at the well lighted windows. Mulder had taken her arm for the last few hundred yards to help her.

She didn't look at the anger and fear in his face. He was pissed that she'd insisted on doing this, and the fear, though hidden, would lurk in the back of his eyes. He was an expert at worrying about her. A fussy mother hen.

"I'm fine, Mulder." She managed to pull her arm from him gently and make it the last few feet on her own.

The porch hadn't been swept, so it was almost as snow covered as the path they'd taken.

Scully glanced at the snow blanketed van. Scratch markes marred the side sliding door. Daisy's scratch marks. Moments before she was killed, she'd been clawing at that vehicle, trying to get at whoever was inside. Most likely one, or both of the children.

The sound of Mulder knocking on the door pulled her attention back to the task at hand.

There was no answer. Mulder pounded harder.

The door swung open to reveal a shotgun, with a man standing behind it.

"This is private property."

Mulder had affixed his best ingratiating grin. "We're sorry to intrude, but our car broke down about a half mile down the road. Could we use your phone to call for a tow?" Mulder reached out to pull Scully a bit closer. "And if it's not too much trouble, Cathy needs to get out of this cold."

Scully almost kicked him for laying it on so thick, but, too late to change it, she ran her hand over her stomach, making her condition obvious to the first blind guy going by on a horse.

Shotgun's eyes narrowed. "We ain't the park rangers."

"I know that, sir. But... Jesus, look, it's freezing out here," Mulder went from polite and nervous to indignant, "we're in a bit of trouble and Cathy's eight months along. I doubt we can rob you blind, even if we wanted to, no getaway car. We have some friends who know we were gonna be exploring up this way. We just need to call a tow and arrange for a ride back, that's all."

Shotgun scowled again and Scully was sure they'd failed. This jerk was gonna send them packing. Which, in itself would confirm the kids were here. He seemed to mull it over. Most likely trying to gauge which move would be least suspicious. He opened the door a bit more.

"Phone's right over there."

Scully smiled gratefully at the man and walked in. Time to beard the lion in his den.

Tramp and Buster watched their friends walk into the cabin and the door shut behind them. Both Dogs suppressed identical shivers. No time to worry. They had work to do.

Buster moved to sniff around the garbage cans in the back as Tramp went to the woodshed. Their noses were familiar with the scent of both children. If they were here, the two Dogs were confident they'd find them.

Buster felt his heart chill as deeply as the snow around him as he caught the faint scent of both children. Coming from the trash can. No... please no.

He sneezed to get Tramp's attention.

Both Dogs worked the snow heavy lid off with their noses. Inside was a sealed garbage bag. Buster almost fainted with relief. The scent was still too faint. It wasn't a body. So what was it?

Sharp teeth made short work of winter brittle plastic.

Gloves. Two pair. Children's gloves. A growl rose in the back of Buster's throat.

The cabin was far from clean, although it had once been professionally decorated. Scully let her gaze wander, looking for any sign that the children were here.

Shotgun gave her the creeps.

"What's goin' on, Hank?" A younger man hobbled out of the kitchen area. He held a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. His limp was pronounced.

Scully recalled Sheryl's description of blood and signs of a struggle. Daisy had gotten one. Good girl, she mentally added.

"Couple here broke down some ways back. Needed to call a tow." Scully watched the glare, the threatening stance shotgun assumed.

Mulder didn't miss it either as he picked up the phone. When two people worked together on a crime there was always a dominant and a submissive. The one in control and the obedient servant. He just found out where things stood in this scenario. Hank there was the leader.

He dialed Stephen Wu's cell phone. "Yeah, this is David Saks, my car broke down on this unmarked road off the main, 'bout a mile past the ranger station heading east. I... I think the transmission's shot." No sign of the kids. The men weren't nervous enough to have them stashed within the cabin.

"Yeah, I have Triple A. How soon can you have someone out here? Us... a cabin 'bout a half mile from the car. The folks here were very nice and left us use their phone." Mulder smiled at Hank. "OK, we'll head back to the car in a few. Thanks."

"They said they have a truck out this direction already it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a half hour." Mulder reported.

"It's comin' down pretty hard. You two're lucky you didn't freeze to death gettin' here." Sandwich Man took a swig from his beer.

"Just as bad in the car without the heater." Scully lowered herself to the couch, a bit awkwardly. She winced as another clenching took her.

Oh... shit... Her eyes darted to Mulder as he surveyed the room. Thank God, he hadn't noticed. He'd get all flustered and drop the ball. It was most likely another bout of false labor pains. She'd had them last month and her ObGyn told her it was normal.

"You two up here skiing or do you live here?" Scully asked, trying to draw them out a bit.

"Skiing." Sandwich Man answered. "I fell the other day." He indicated his bad leg.

Yeah, you fell when a hundred pounds of enraged Retriever clamped onto your leg, Scully forced herself not to scowl.

"You're lucky you didn't break it. I had a friend of mine take a spill skiing round here last year. Broke her leg and her arm." Mulder began to pace around the room.

Hank's eyes never left him.

"You got a real nice cabin here. Better than the place we got. Course, I could never afford something like this for a weekend." Mulder waved his hand to encompass the cabin. "What do you do for a living?"

"We play the market." Hank grinned without humor. "You?"

"Construction." Mulder stomped hard on the floor. "It's how I could tell you got a real nice place. Not just second rate materials covered up to look nice."

Mulder looked at Scully. The floor was solid, and the sound it made didn't coincide with the hollowness of a cellar. Most likely only one or two feet under it to the ground. The kids COULD be stashed there, but if they were alive and able, they'd have hears them arrive and made some sort of noise by now.

Mulder resumed pacing. He casually looked into the kitchen. There was one back door. One window. Four windows and the main entrance in the living room. He mentally constructed a blueprint. It would help Travis plan the assault.

"This yer first?" Hank nodded to Scully.

"Yeah. Kinda nervous about it, ya know." Mulder winked. "Lots of responsibility. But it'll be worth it. Nothing's as precious as your kids, right?"

Hank nodded. "Right. Nothing at all."

Mulder checked his watch. "Well, thanks for the hospitality. We should get going, though. The truck will be getting there any time now."

Scully stood and nodded, pulling on her coat.

"Careful of the weather next time you drive. Safer getting stuck on a warm Miami beach." Hank opened the front door quickly.

"You're right. But somethin' tells me it'll be a while before our next vacation." Scully pulled her knit cap down over her ears.

Before they hit the end of the porch the door closed behind them. Mulder linked his arm in hers as they began to follow their own tracks back. The snowfall had already reduced their trail to a gentle indentation.

When they were far enough away Scully spoke up. "Nice of them to offer us a ride."

"They couldn't get rid of us fast enough, Scully. But it was general annoyance, not panic. The kids aren't there."

"So... where are they?"

"I wish I knew. Maybe Buster and Tramp came up with something."

Stephen wasn't the only one waiting for them at their car. Buster and Tramp were typing on laptops as Mulder and Scully approached.

Mary saw them round the far curve in the road and drove to them, slowly.

"Get in, it's warmer."

They gave no argument. Hope moved over in the back to make room for Mulder.

"So?" Hope glared at Mulder, "Didja get anything?"

Mulder filled them in as he warmed up. Then he opened the car door. "Ms.

McKibben, take them back please. And be careful."

Mary nodded. "I will. I grew up round here, Mr. Mulder. I can handle this.

Heck, this is just some flurries."

Mulder watched the car drive slowly away before he joined the group huddled around the hood of the Hyatt's car. Mulder helped draw a schematic of the cabin and told them what he and Scully had seen and observed.

Tramp had brought the gloves back with him. There was no doubt that these were the kidnappers.

Legally they should go to the police now. Mulder was certain the assholes didn't know about the Dogs, but their suspicions could turn some pretty close scrutiny on the Family. That could alert the consortium and other interested parties to the Dogs. That had to be avoided if at all possible.

Mulder wondered, however, just how far he was willing to go. How far any of the people surrounding the Hyatt's car were prepared to go.

He looked up into the eyes of Travis Hyatt and got his answer. God help them all.

The snow began to fall harder.

"Jimmy, I can't." Della stumbled again and struggled to regain her feet.

"Come ON, Della. If we stay out here we're gonna die." James Hyatt couldn't afford to sugar coat it now.

"Go ahead, send Daddy back for me." Della sobbed.

She couldn't feel her fingers, ears or nose anymore. What she could feel was her legs, arms and shoulders, and they were a mass of pain.

"I'm not gonna leave you." Jimmy tried to pick her up, but he was too weak and she was only a little smaller than he was.

"DAISY!"

The wind howled through the trees, blowing the falling snow at them like tiny daggers of ice.

Then she was there. Jimmy felt warm breath on his face.

"We gotta find shelter, girl. Della can't make it."

There was a soft whine, torn away by the wind. "What are we gonna do, girl?"

Jimmy felt a tug at his arm. "We can't go much further."

The tug became more insistent and for a moment, just a moment, Jimmy thought he saw Daisy there.

Mary cursed and slowed a bit more. They were at ten miles an hour now, and they had about ten miles to go before they hit the chalet.

Scully gripped the door handle and gritted her teeth. "Um... Mary, how much further is it to the nearest hospital?"

"Oh shit... please tell me you're joking, Dana. You ARE joking, aren't you?"

Hope gripped Scully's shoulder.

"No. I thought it was false labor, but it's been going on for about... two hours now."

"Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod..." Mary muttered as she drove. "The nearest hospital is thirty miles from the chalets. I don't think we can make it in this. Agent Scully, this is a pretty bad one."

"Damn." Scully bit her lip. "Let's get to the chalet. Maybe an ambulance can make it through."

Hope wanted to cry when she saw the look in Mary's eyes in the rearview mirror. No ambulance was gonna make it in this. Visibility was almost nil.

9. Three Dog Night

Mulder hunched over in the snow next to Tramp. To his left Sheryl and Lioness also crouched with their Companions, hidden in the trees. To his right, Ron and Rob and their Dogs. Travis, Nora and Steven were around back with Buster and Steven's Psylocke. The cabin was in sight.

He had a beeper at his hip, set to vibrate. When Travis used his cell phone to connect with the beeper they were to move in.

Mulder peeled off his gloves and balanced the small Glok he'd been given.

Travis insisted he not use his own gun, but an sterilized weapon from the Family's stash.

How far beyond the law had he gone already? Mulder shifted his attention from the gun to the cabin. How far was too far? In a firefight he could shoot with no problem. The him or me effect. Protect your team. But if they captured these assholes, could he stand back and allow murder? Torture? The world hadn't been black and white for him in a very long time, but now the shades of gray were becoming less and less distinguishable from one another.

Travis felt his palms sweat against the binoculars, despite the cold air. He checked every available window. There was movement in the kitchen area for a few minutes.

Steven Wu snuck up beside him.

"We may have trouble."

Travis lowered the binoculars and looked at his friend. "What kind of trouble?"

"Set of tracks, pretty much covered, leading from the back of the cabin into the woods or back. Can't tell. Too much snowfall since they were made. So we either have three people now in the cabin or one's already gotten away."

"Fuck." Travis met Nora's eyes. "If someone left..."

"We do it now. If we wait then we could put James and Della in more danger."

Nora's eyes were fearful, but determined. Her voice, however, was strong and sure.

"Steve, get Sheryl and Wookie to follow those tracks. Wookie's got the best nose." Travis made the decision quickly.

Steven nodded and loped off to the side.

Mulder saw someone move in on Sheryl. The someone had a Dog at his side and the two conversed quickly before Sheryl and Wookie tore off through the snow, circling the house.

He didn't have time to wonder what was up for long. He had managed to sneak in right under the side window as his beeper vibrated. In the chaos that followed he had no time at all to think beyond the moment.

The moment the van stopped before the warm and welcoming chalet Hope felt relief flood through her, only to have the blessed feeling snatched away at the sound of Scully's moan.

Hope got out and was at the passenger side door in two seconds flat.

"Hold on, Dana, just a bit further." She helped Scully out of the seat. As soon as Dana's small feet hit the snow and she stood upright there was a rush of bloody fluid.

Scully cried out and Hope grabbed her and held her up with all her might.

"HELP!" She called to the house even as Mary grabbed Scully's other side.

"WE NEED HELP OUT HERE!"

They were surrounded by a swarm of people in moments.

The children were kept occupied in the living room with Disney tapes as Mary and Hope set to work around Scully.

A layer of garbage bags had been applied to the bed then a layer of fresh bedding. Scully worked on her Lamaze breathing as Hope and Mary stripped her down and slipped a cotton nightgown over her head.

When the latest contraction faded Hope sat beside Scully. "You have rotten timing, Dana."

"I don't, HE does. He's already his daddy through and through." Scully managed to look composed somehow. As if she were not about to give birth in a ski chalet miles from a hospital in a terrible snow storm.

Mary was probing the solid girth of Scully's stomach before looking at Hope, her eyes worried.

"What?" Hope couldn't take much more of this.

"How much OBGYN or neonatal training have you had?" Mary tried to smile, and failed.

"I've seen a birth while doing an ER tour. But I'm only third year pre-med.

I know the book work, and the basics but beyond that..." Hope felt the blood leave her face.

"You're going to learn fast." Mary met Dana's eyes. "Dana, I'm a vet. I've only worked with animals, but I've delivered lots of babies. That's the GOOD news. The bad news is... Your water's broken and this little one still hasn't turned. Now, we are going to try every trick I know to get this baby to turn on his own. But if he doesn't..."

"He's going to be breech." Dana's hand gripped Hope's so tightly the young woman lost feeling in the fingertips.

"Only if we can't get him to turn. I've delivered a breech foal once. No problems." The vet managed a smile at that.

"Great. Just remember I'm not a horse, please."

Glass shattered. The sound of splintering wood and snarling Dogs.

The people going in were those who had training in combat and fighting.

Meaning Mulder got the dubious honor of going through the front door while Travis kicked in the back.

Mulder crouched near the front door and nodded to Lioness, who was to cover the plate glass window and make sure no one escaped through it. She nodded back, her face a mask of grim determination.

Mulder felt the vibration at his hip and he stood. His booted foot connected with solid wood. The impact jarred up his leg and rattled his hip as the door flew inward. He crouched quickly and held his gun before him, his eyes sweeping the room even with the targeting sight of the Glock.

A man's back as he headed for the rear of the house presented a perfect target.

"Freeze!" Mulder spoke the word, knowing it wasn't going to work.

The man spun, a rifle in his hands. He brought the gun up, firing without aiming. Mulder counted his blessings as the wood of the door he'd just kicked in erupted and splinters flew even as he dove behind the couch.

Another gunshot rang through the air and Mulder readied to fire around the couch, only to find there was no need. The rifleman was down, his shoulder bleeding. He was reaching for his fallen weapon with his good arm.

Mulder sprang forward and kicked the rifle clear, training his Glock in the man's face. It was the limping sandwich man from earlier.

Travis nodded to Mulder and moved off to sweep the rest of the house.

"Where's your buddy?" Mulder looked back down to see the man was staring intently into the barrel of the pistol.

"He... he... he went for a walk, man. He shot me. That guy shot me." His eyes were wide with disbelief and pain. Had he thought himself immune to bullets? His leg should have taught him he was as vulnerable as anyone else.

"He's gonna do more then shoot you if..." Mulder was interrupted as the others entered the house.

"Clear. Where's your partner?" Travis' voice hard and tight.

The dominant was missing. Shit. Mulder moved back so Lioness and Rob could haul the downed man to his feet then throw him into a chair. Nora handcuffed him, her eyes gone cold with determination

"Mulder, would you mind following after Sheryl and Wookie? They were trailing the tracks leading from this place." Travis leaned against Sandwich Man's chair, coldly, casually. "This gentleman was just going to tell us where James and Della are."

"Fuck you." Sandwich Man had limited intelligence as well as a limited vocabulary.

"Wrong answer, bright boy." Travis swung and punched him. Hard. In the gunshot wound. He screamed.

Mulder turned away. This he couldn't watch. He understood it. God help him, he did. If it were Hope and the baby... but he still had a lingering thread of his own integrity. He couldn't sit back and watch. He welcomed the out.

"Sure. Tramp, wanna go for a walk?" Mulder looked down at the mutt. The Dog sneezed and nuzzled his leg.

"Della?" James shook his sister. She was curled up in a ball, sound asleep.

It was warm here. Amazingly warm. And they were both sooo tired.

He couldn't feel the pain in his wrists any more. That was good.

He looked out the small fissure that was the mouth of this little cave. The snow continued to fall softly, it even made a sift whispering noise. It was sooo pretty.

He lay down and curled around Della, to keep her warm. He felt Daisy. She permeated this little hidy hole with her warmth. She's such a good dog.

10. Bite is Worse Than the Bark

Sheryl followed Wookie. The Dog's muzzle pushed snow before him as he followed the tracks. His tail was down and his ears back, illustrating the seriousness of his position.

They had gone at least a mile when the little shelter came into view. It looked like a ranger's station or an emergency stop. Sheryl scowled. The tracks seemed to lead to it.

"Wook, cover me." She approached as quietly as she could through the snow.

She pushed the slightly open door with her gun.

The hand came from nowhere. It wrapped around her wrist and pulled her in.

A rapid succession of two gunshots filled the quiet of the woods.

Mulder heard the distant shots, but in the open, with mountains on all sides to bounce sound around he had no idea where it had come from.

Tramp barked once then took off at a run. The trail cut by Sheryl and Wookie they had been following made the going a bit easier.

Mulder ran as quickly as he could, barely keeping the dark brown coat of the Mutt in his sight. In minutes they were facing a small wooden building.

Wookie was growling at the building, limping around. The Dog's blood was bright on the snow. A furrow ran down his side. Tramp paused to sniff the other Dog's wound.

"Sheryl?" Mulder called out. That she was not visible and her Dog was injured spelled trouble.

"Cornell?" It was a man's voice that answered.

Mulder could see Sheryl's prints leading to the door. The man was calling from inside. Mulder went into a crouch and tried to see any sign of windows or a peephole.

"I can see you, Cornell." The voice was taunting.

At this distance, with their many similarities, Hank had mistaken him for Travis.

"Hank. We have your brother. Where's Sheryl? You can still walk away from this alive, you know." Mulder motioned for Tramp to circle the shack.

Hopefully the Dog would know to look for an opening, a window, something.

Wookie kept low and moved close to Mulder, whining low in his throat.

Tramp disappeared around the side of the building.

"She's alive." Mulder heard the woman yelp from inside.

"He's got a sawed off winchester..." Sheryl yelled out, her words cut off abruptly.

"Shut up, bitch, or I'll blow your guts around this room."

Mulder gripped his gun tighter.

"I wanna push."

Hope lost feeling in her fingertips as Scully gripped her hand.

"Not yet, Dana. He hasn't turned." Mary was pushing on a spot between Scully's first and second toe. Dana's foot looked small in the other woman's hands.

Having tried nudging on Dana's distended stomach to force the baby to turn Mary had switched to acupressure. Dana was not convinced it would work but at this point she'd try anything. The next step was the one she was NOT looking forward to.

Dana breathed in short, sharp pants. The breaths designed to not allow her to push. Hope brushed a lock of damp red hair from her stepmother's pale face with a weak smile. She was amazed at Dana's fortitude. She hadn't screamed once. Hadn't even raised her voice, even though she was obviously in pain. Pain they had no hope of relieving.

Hope gently touched the bulge that contained her little brother. Come on. She silently willed, thinking that if there was any chance her father might be right about psychic communication the force of her will would drive this into the infant mind separated from her by flesh and muscle.Come on, little brother. You don't want to start life off by getting your mom pissed. Trust me, she's impossible when she's pissed. Just turn around and make this easier on both of you.

Dana's breathing regulated and her grip relaxed, signaling the passing of the latest contraction.

Hope looked worriedly at Mary. The vet wouldn't meet her eyes. Not a good sign.

"Has anyone heard from the others yet?"

Mary shook her head. No phone calls, nothing. Everyone both in this room and in the main part of the chalet were on edge. Too much was happening, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone here could do about it.

A reddish, furry head popped in the door of the bedroom come delivery room.

"Out!" Mary pointed, her finger at her own Companion. "The last thing Dana needs right now is dog hair all over. Piper, tell them nothing's changed.

Please, just keep the canine half of this family out of here."

The Dog nodded his head once and backed through the door.

"He's only worried." Hope defended him, still partly in awe of the miracle of the Dogs.

"I know, but this room is far from sanitary as it is, we don't need them adding to it." Mary's voice softened. She was obviously worried as well. She had two lives in her hands, not much in the way of equipment and just about all that could go wrong crashing down on her.

"So, Dana," Hope started with forced cheeriness, "you never did tell me if you decided on a name? Here my baby brother is almost out in the world and I have no idea what I'm gonna be calling him. Fox Junior?"

Dana's smile was weak, but genuine.

Sheryl refused to touch the pulsing pain in her jaw. She wouldn't give the asshole the satisfaction of showing her pain, beyond to spit the blood from her mouth.

She glanced around, looking for something, anything to give her an advantage. Then she saw it. Frozen blood. Not hers. On the floor next to the remains of plastic ties. Modern, disposable handcuffs. Shit. Were the kids even still alive?

The guy before her was all joe cool. His long brown hair was a bit wild, his square jaw was set in a teeth clenching grin. His deepset eyes were...

inhuman. He actually looked like he was enjoying this idiotic standoff. The bore hole of the gun facing her stretched to about the size of a canon ball as she realized he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. He might actually get off on it.

This had to be diffused quickly as she really did like all her internal organs exactly where they were right now. It'd be a pity to go rearranging them when they worked perfectly well, right down to the bladder that was threatening to humiliate her any moment now, as that bore hole seemed to grow bigger.

When her chance came she was gonna have to move damned fast.

The asshole's gun never wavered as a scraping sound came from the roof. He looked quickly out the crack in the door, to see the man still crouched in the snow. So who was on the roof?

Sheryl looked up. Wookie? If the guy would just try shooting at the roof she might be able to rush him while the gun was aimed elsewhere.

No such luck. Even as her eyes started to return to her captor Sheryl realized she had missed her chance, even as the but of the gun filled her vision and the explosion of pain filled her skull.

She crumpled to the floor, still.

Mulder watched Tramp circle the small shed-like shelter. His eyes grew wide as, a few minutes later, he saw the animal's chocolate colored form begin to appear on the roof, right next to the chimney. How the hell... He'd worry about that later, but there was just no way the dog would fit down the metal chimney shaft. He could tell from here.

Tramp disappeared from view an reappeared running across the snow. He skidded to a stop before Mulder and Wookie. The Dog had a dried out tree branch in it's mouth.

A woodpile, Mulder realized. There was a woodpile in back high enough for Tramp to scramble up and get to the roof.

So how did that help?

Tramp dropped the branch and looked at him, his squarish head cocked to the side. The Dog's too intelligent dark eyes seemed to be questioning him. What?

Wookie whimpered and looked up at him, too. Great. He'd finally gone to the dogs.

Ok, how could the tree branch be used as a distraction? Drop it down the chimney? Fine, if the flue was open. Did those old metal stacks have a flue?

Mulder had to admit that his chimney knowledge was rather limited.

He began patting down his pockets. Travis had wanted to cover all bases. No one was to get lost or injured if he could help it. There was a small first aid kit in one of his parka's pockets, a compass and matches in another, and extra clips for his gun filled the rest.

"Gimme that." Mulder held out his hand and Tramp retrieved the branch, plopping it into Mulder's waiting palm.

Keeping low Mulder led the dogs around, out of the line of sight of the shelter's door, it's only apparent opening.

"Cornell! If you run away I'll kill this bitch then slit your kids' throats.

You just had to do this the hard way, didn't you?"

The man inside was ranting. Delusional.

Mulder pulled the palm sized first aid kit out and opened it, tearing open the five packet's of gauze and tiny plastic bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Wait! Don't hurt them. I'm coming back. Slow and easy," he called out. Then he switched to a whisper. "Tramp, this is gonna have to be quick. Once I give this to you the alcohol and gauze are gonna go fast. Think you can drop it down that chimney?"

The Dog looked at the shed, and at the stick before barking once and wagging his tail.

Mulder wrapped one end of the branch in gauze and soaked it with the contents of the bottle before using a match to light it.

He carefully handed it to the Dog who clamped his teeth around the end as far from the flames as he could. Then he was off.

Mulder moved quickly back into the view of the door only this time a few feet closer then he had been. Deciding to play on the case of mistaken identity he called into the shed, "Can't we just make the deal and have this over with. You kill me and where are you gonna get your money?"

"You got a wife. I'm sure she'd like her kids back, too. Now drop the gun!"

Mulder saw Tramp crest the roof. The torch was dropping bits of burnt gauze.

Mulder held the gun out. "Okay, Okay, don't do anything stupid!"

"Ain't me who's been stupid, man. If you just did what you were told you'd be havin cocoa with your kids right now."

The branch dropped down.

"What the..."

Mulder ran for the door in a crouch, he had only seconds. He flew through the door to see the man stomping out the burning branch turn on him, raising the shot gun toward his head.

Oh shit... the thought flitted though his mind as he threw himself to the side and his ears rang with the sound of the blast.

Fire ripped through his shoulder and bicep and he bit back a cry of pain.

He rolled, as he landed, bringing up his gun. Another flash of pain as his gun hand was kicked to the side, the weapon skittering across the room, and he found himself looking into the barrel of the shotgun, the stink of hot metal and sulfur wafting in his face.

"You ain't Cornell." The man holding the gun exclaimed in shock.

Mulder, in that instant, wished he had told Scully how much he loved her more often. He wished he'd had more time to be with Hope, and tell her how much she'd come to mean to him. He wished with all his being he could be there to see and hold his son when he was born. So much he wanted to do.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening.

11. Going to the Dogs.

Hope was ready to cry. She tried to be strong, for Dana's sake, but her stomach had dropped to her toes every time she looked over at Mary.

The baby had still not turned. Dana was expending a lot of energy on resisting the urge to push. She was becoming exhausted and she had not fully dilated yet.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Dana was supposed to give birth in a nice clean hospital, surrounded by the best her science could offer to assure both her and the baby's health. She was supposed to have Mulder there, holding her hand, getting screamed at like a good husband should.

Mary smiled at Dana and patted her leg. "It's going to be fine, Dana."

Scully's eyes were full of mingled pain and fear, but both were overshadowed by determination. "Don't try to placate me, Mary. I know just how bad this is."

Mary nodded, chagrined. "Give me a moment with Hope."

Mary took Hope's arm and led her from the room.

Outside the hall was filled with curious, tear stained faces. Worried eyes, both human and canine, focused on them.

"Not yet, go busy yourselves." Mary shooed them before speaking to Hope.

"Hope, you're thinner than I am, you have smaller hands and arms..."

"OH NO." Hope shook her head. "You can't be thinking what I think you're thinking. Un-uh. No way."

Mary's sad face transformed in an instant to a mask of anger. "Do you think I WANT to do this? Jesus, girl, this is the second to last thing I want to do. And if I tell you to do it, you WILL do it, for the sake of the woman in there and the baby she's trying to deliver. Once she's fully dilated, if that baby hasn't turned, we have no CHOICE. Now you are likely to cause less pain and damage than ME by virtue of size. Here is exactly what you are going to do..."

In minutes Mary's voice echoed down the hall. "Nancy, Kristel!"

Both women peered around the corner to see the Vet looking determined and Hope looking pasty and ready to faint.

"I'm going to need hot water, as hot as you can stand putting your hand into, and that antibacterial soap. Go next door and get all the extra towels you can, what we have in there might not be enough."

Both women looked from Mary to each other and nodded.

"Anything else?" Nancy asked.

"Prayer. Lots of it." Mary replied over her shoulder as she shoved Hope back into the bedroom.

Piper and Mindy, Buster's mate, sat in the hall and whimpered piteously.

Einstein limped over to them and sat beside them, the three Dogs leaning together.

Mulder was surprised to find he could open his eyes. He blinked once, just to be sure. If he was dead the afterlife was fucking COLD, and his arm and shoulder were thrumming with pain. Hell wasn't fire and brimstone, it was ice and pain. Something heavy was on top of him.

"Thanks for the rescue." Mulder looked over to the corner the voice had come from. Sheryl Martin was glassy eyed, her face was covered with blood, and his gun was held limply in her hand.

"I think it was mutual." He shoved against the weight across his middle.

Hank rolled over, dead weight. Half his face was missing.

"I hope his brother spilled where the kids are." Mulder pulled himself to his feet, feeling his arm flare into agony again. He didn't want to look, but he had to.

It wasn't as bad as he thought. He was sure half his bicep was gone. But the blood soaked sleeve of his parka showed a dozen tiny pellet holes. He crossed to check on Sheryl. The blood was from a nasty gash across her hairline.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" He made a V before the groggy woman.

"Four. Aren't you glad I'm a good shot?" Her twisted grin reminded him of Jackie for a moment.

Wookie and Tramp were sniffing at the body now. Wookie moved away from it to limp next to his companion and lay his head in her lap. Tramp took a moment to raise his leg in salute of the dead.

"Mulder! Sheryl!" Travis' voice called through the silence.

"In here!" Mulder answered.

Travis and the others were soon crowding the tiny shelter, hands were everywhere, first aid kits were brought out and wounds were tended to briskly.

"Is there any sign of the kids?" Nora's voice was frantic over the quit murmuring of the rag tag band of people.

Outside, the Dogs started barking.

The snow had ceased to fall. Canine noses rose and tasted the air. They smelled something. A sister, a cousin, an aunt. As one they tore off across the snowswept landscape, leaving the humans to follow behind.

Impossible, not right. The logical, smart part of them were shaken by the scent. The baser, animal parts just accepted and followed.

Tramp looked over his shoulder to see that the humans were, in fact, following. They were slower, but the Dogs were braking the trail.

They ran as a pack for twenty minutes, barks, howels, whuffs, echoing through the trees. At last they stopped before a small rise in the snow.

It was Buster who began to dig and paw at the snow. The others soon followed. In moments they had clawed a opening free. It was a small, narrow cave, and it smelled entirely of Daisy.

The Dogs moved back as the humans arrived. People began crawling on the bellies as Travis scampered into the narrow depression.

"It's them! They're alive!" The shout of joy filled the woods as Nora fell to her knees and began to weep with relief.

The small train of cars and four wheel drive vehicles pulled up to the lodge and were met by a rush of people.

James and Della were not handed over, but carried inside by their parents.

They were rushed to the bathroom where hot water was being drawn to try to stave off hypothermia. Neither child had been able to stop shaking since they were pulled from the cave. Yet the inside of their little hidy hole had been surprisingly warm.

Kelly and Ron Phillips helped Sheryl inside, where people began to swarm over the impatient woman.

It was Kristel and Nancy who intercepted the battered form of Fox Mulder, however.

"The back bedroom, quickly." Nancy pulled on his good arm.

"Wha..."

"The baby's coming. We called an ambulance but with the storm... just GO."

Mulder no longer felt the pain in his arm tuned with his heartbeat. He pushed his way through the throng to the back bedroom, where some worried faces still remained parked outside the door.

He threw open the door to be confronted by the scene within.

His wife lay propped up by a dozen pillows, the short, cotton nightgown she wore was plastered to her body and his heart dropped to his stomach as her heard her groan.

Hope and Mary McKibben were perched at the bottom of the bed.

All three looked up at him as he entered.

"Mulder..." The sound of his name falling from his wife's lips would have been wonderful if it weren't so full of pain and fear.

"I'm here." He reached out with his good hand and sat beside her on the bed, tangling his fingers with hers. "I'm right here."

"Come on Dana, push. Not much longer now." Mary patted Scully's knee.

Dana's face contorted and darkened as the cords in her neck stood out.

Mulder felt her fingers wring the life out of his. Her stomach moved.

Then it struck him, she was having his baby. The moment was here, and it was more terrifying than looking into the barrel of a sawed off shotgun.

"Oh, thank GOD, he's CROWNING, Dana. We have a head. Push. Just a little bit more and it'll all be over." Hope smiled up at Dana, then at Mulder.

He took a moment to appreciate how calm and collected his daughter appeared in the role of doctor. Then he lost feeling in his fingers again. He looked at Scully and forced his injured arm to move, his heavy, numb fingers to brush the wet strands of copper fire from her brow, leaving a smear of his own blood in his fingers wake. He kissed her temple.

"Mary! Mary, the clamp!" Hope was calling out and Mulder looked to the bottom of the bed. His daughter was holding a mess. A squirming bundle covered in blood and other vile fluids. A baby. His baby.

Hope took the clamp from Mary and tied off the umbilical cord. She looked up at Mulder and grinned. "Looks like I have a brother. Congratulations. Now get down here and do your job, for once."

Scully let out a weak laugh. "Let me see him."

"You'll hold him in a minute, Dana." Hope moved as Mulder let go Scully's hand and came to the bottom of the bed. The sheets and plastic lined floor were covered in blood and fluid. His throat tightened and he looked back to Scully. Was this normal?

"Go ahead, Dad." Hope was beaming at him, offering the infant still attached to Scully. Mary pressed a pair of sharp scissors into his hand. "Right above the clamp." Hope explained.

Mulder's hand shook.

"Steady, Dad, or I might end up with a sister after all."

Those were the last words Mulder heard.

Hope stood there, wide eyed, looking down at her father. "You can't take him anywhere, can you?" She looked up to see Dana struggling hard not to laugh.

Mary cut the cord. Hope stepped over her father and cleaned the baby's nose and throat before handing him to his mother.

Dana took him, her eyes filled with tears as she kissed his still messy cheek. She tucked him against her breast and then Dana proceeded to throw up.

All in all Hope was ecstatic to hear the sound of sirens in the distance.

12. How Much is That Doggie in the Window?

Jackie St. George pushed open the double doors to the maternity wing with a bit more force then necessary. The plane ride out here to the middle of frozen nowhere had been less then thrilling and she'd just learned that her best friend hadn't given birth in the hospital at all, but in some god forsaken ski lodge in the forest during a snowstorm.

She pulled to a halt before a large paned window. Two people were peering into the room. One was Hope Jamison. The other was a woman about Jackie's height, a bandage wrapped around her head.

Hope spotted Jackie and grinned. She pointed into the nursery where a nurse was currently changing a disinterested looking infant.

"That is Andrew William Mulder. Isn't he cute? Five pounds 6 ounces. Almost a month premature, but doing wonderfully. Dad and Dana are down the hall.

They are allowing Dana to shower, so you have to wait till the door opens again."

Jackie couldn't pry her eyes away from the baby on the other side of the glass.

"He's bald."

Hope laughed. "He was born with a little tuft of red hair. But it came off on his pillow over-night. Dad was mortified. At least he didn't faint over it."

Jackie smirked, she could just imagine Mulder's reaction.

"Cut the guy some slack, Hope. He'd had a hell of an afternoon, lost quite a bit of blood and came back to be told to cut the cord. I'm amazed he stayed conscious as long as he did." The nameless woman chuckled.

There was a story there, and Jackie was itching to here it. "Hi," She stuck her hand out, since Hope had failed to produce any introductions, "I'm Jackie St. George."

The woman took the proffered hand. "Sheryl Martin. Pleased to meet ya."

Both woman paused, feeling a shiver go up their spines, they looked each other over and shook their heads in wonder.

"Nah..." They both spoke at once.

Just then the door Hope had indicated opened.

Mulder saw Jackie and grinned hugely. One of those ultra rare smiles filled with teeth. Jackie grinned back.

"Hiya, daddy." She nodded to Hope and her new aquaintence and then pushed past Mulder to get to Scully.

Dana was in bed, her hair still damp from the shower. She looked pale and weak. That made Jackie pause right there. But on seeing Jackie, Dana's face lit up.

"I don't believe you flew all the way out here."

"I don't believe you let Doogie Howser out there deliver your kid." Jackie jerked her thumb at the door.

"She had help." Dana indicated an empty chair. "They'll be bringing Andy in for his feeding any moment."

"What's this I hear about Mulder passing out?" Jackie sat down and eyed Mulder, a gleam in her eye. It faded when she realized he was wearing a arm splint.

"It was blood loss." His tone was defensive.

For once Jackie didn't push.

There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered, bearing the blanket wrapped infant over whom so much fuss was made. Scully held out her arms and the baby was handed over.

"As soon as I feed him you can hold him, Jackie."

"What?" The Canadian squeaked. "I might break him. He's... he's... TINY."

"If Mulder didn't break him you won't," Scully smirked, "and believe me, he didn't feel tiny coming out."

There was another knock at the door and Mulder looked to see Lem Johnson cocking his head, asking him to follow.

Mulder excused himself and followed the older man out, past Hope and Sheryl to a waiting room decorated with ducks and bunnies.

"I wanted you to know everyone in good health has taken separate flights out of Colorado. Jimmy and Della are going to be discharged tomorrow. The pediatrician said their dehydration is cleared up and as long as Jimmy's wrists don't get infected they'll be fine."

"What's being done about..."

"There was a fight in the shed between two brothers. Hank Dryden beat the crap out of his little brother Mike before the twerp had enough and shot him in the head. Anything Mike Dryden is claiming is being flatly denied by us.

We got twenty witnesses to say we were all busy with search parties looking for James and Della who got lost in a snow storm. Travis, Harry and I took care of the evidence and details."

That left a bad taste in Mulder's mouth. He was actually taking part in a cover up. He sagged against a powder blue wall and swallowed his own disgust.

"Do you think any of what we did was unjustified?" Lem's question caught Mulder off guard.

"You tortured a man..."

"Yeah. We did. And with perfect hindsight we now know that what he told us was useless as the kids had escaped. But at the time it was the only option."

"I don't have to like it," Mulder muttered.

"No, and if you did, if any of us did, I'd be really worried. We do what we have to for the protection of our family." Lem touched Mulder's shoulder.

"That includes you. All of us would come to your aid if you needed it, Mulder. You've got all of us in your debt, and now that Tramp's made up his mind, you are really and truly part of the Family."

"What?" Mulder looked up, shaken.

"Yup. You got yourself a Dog. Tramp announced he'd be goin home with you and Dana. He said your family needs Watching Over. He's appointed himself the Dog to do it. The fact that he's a mutt is the perfect disguise. Now your biggest worry is if you'll ever get your computer off him. That Dog is a DOOM addict, man."

Mulder chuckled. Two new members to his family. It was becoming scary. Two years ago he was a bachelor living in a three room apartment with his only concern his personal quest. Now he had a wife, a baby, a teenager in college and a Dog. Why did he get the feeling things were only going to become more chaotic in his life now that he'd 'settled down'.

"Oh, and here's one for your X-Files, Mulder. The Dogs say DAISY led them to the kids. They followed her scent right to them. The kids claim she was with them the entire time. If there was ever any doubt that our friends have souls..." Lem spread his hands and smiled.

Mulder walked back into his wife's room to find Jackie holding his son, a soft look on her face. She saw him come in and stood with her precious cargo.

"Here you go, Mulder. Good thing for him he seems to take after his mother."

She deposited Andrew in Mulder's arms.

Hope came in and sat on the bed next to Scully, watching her father cradle her brother. Both man and infant staring into each other's eyes, getting to know one another.

Sheryl had told her about Tramp. Hope grinned. Everything was going to be just fine.

The phone rang beside the bed and Hope scooped it up. "Mulder room."

She held the phone away from her ear with a wince. Well, almost everything was going to be alright.

"Oh, Dad... It's Hellen." Hope grinned.

The end.

Thanks to everyone who bore with me. I appreciate your patience. Feedback, as always, welcome.

End