Title: Fidelity
Author: Suzanne Schramm
Distribution: Gossamer please. Everyone else please ask, I get cranky when it's 10:00 p.m. and I don't know where my children are. Rating: PG-13 (mild profanity, mild violence)
Spoilers: Takes place right after Two Fathers/One Son.
Classification: X,Myth, UST/A

Summary: A Scully ditch provides the opportunity to get some real answers in the quest for the truth.

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Gibson, etc. are the brainchild of Chris Carter. No copyright infringement is intended. For those people who have been following this story as a WIP on my site, the parts are numbered a little differently now. Author's notes at the end.

This is for Sharon, with more love and thanks than I could express in a year of federal holidays.

The insistent jangling of the phone awoke Scully from dreams of wandering lost through a labyrinth of darkened hallways. Cracking open one eye at the alarm clock, she saw that it was 3:26 a.m. Even Mulder never called this late. Early. Whatever.

Her hand fumbled for the receiver and she mumbled a hello.

"I need your help," the voice was young and sounded far away. Recognition dawned on her and she sat straight up, fully awake now.

"Gibson?"

"I need your help," he repeated plaintively.

"Where are you, sweetie?" Scully reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Will you come get me?"

"Yes. Just tell me where you are. Are you okay?"

"You have to promise you'll come alone. And you won't tell anyone."

"Gibson... what?"

"You can't tell Agent Mulder. You can't tell anyone. You have to promise. I don't want any more tests done on me."

"Gibson," Scully paused, unsure how to reason with him. "Gibson, you need to be in a hospital."

"No! I'm okay. Please, I just... If you help me I can give you the proof you wanted. But only you. No one else. I trust you."

Scully sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up. "I'll help you. But why all the secrecy?"

"They're looking for me. They're getting closer and I can't hide here forever. My mom's coming, but she can't get here until the day after tomorrow. If they find me they're going to do more operations..."

"Tell me where to meet you, I'll be there."

"Fox ?"

Mulder looked up to see Diana standing hesitantly in the doorway. He motioned her inside and she glanced behind her before entering.

"What's up?"

Diana's gaze skittered across Scully's empty desk before she sat down in the chair before his own desk.

"Fox ," she took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you, I need to show you something."

"Okay." Her unease was making him apprehensive.

Diana looked down at the folder she held in her hands before looking him in the eye.

"I got a call this morning from Agent Riley at the Phoenix office. Agent Spender and I worked with him last September when we were investigating those deaths at the nuclear power plant. Agent Riley and his team have been looking for Gibson Praise for the past several months."

"They found him?" Mulder leaned forward, eager to hear.

"Last night he was spotted at a Phoenix mall." Diana frowned and handed him an 8 x 10 black and white photo. Mulder took the photo and felt the blood drain from his face. Although taken from a distance and grainy, the photo was clearly a small boy wearing a baseball cap and glasses holding the hand of a woman.

Gibson Praise and Scully.

He looked up to see Diana's dark eyes watching him with worry.

"Agent Riley's man tried to catch up to them but he says Agent Scully disregarded his shouts to stop and they disappeared into the crowd. Do you know where they might have gone?"

Mulder shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"I did some checking, before I came to see you."

"Tell me what you know, Diana." His voice was low, impatience barely in check.

"Yesterday morning Agent Scully purchased a ticket to Phoenix, Arizona with an open ended return. Upon her arrival in Arizona she rented a car. Two hours later, according to the bank records, she withdrew $400 from her savings account at a shopping mall ATM. The same mall that photo was taken at. The clerk at Gap Kids remembers Agent Scully and the young boy with her very well. She thought he had brain tumor, she said he had close-cropped hair with a huge scar, like maybe he'd had an operation. Since leaving the mall no one has seen them."

Mulder reached for the phone just as Diana reached for his hand. The pressure of her fingers on his stilled him for a moment.

"I'd like to go with you. I still feel responsible for finding Gibson."

Mulder nodded and lifted the phone.

Maswik Lodge Grand Canyon Village, Arizona

Scully turned on her cell phone for the first time in over 24 hours and dialed into her voice mail. Two new messages. The first had been left at 6:20 p.m. yesterday from an Agent Riley who instructed her to contact him through the Phoenix office immediately.

Gibson had been disheveled and hungry when she met up with him. Scully had taken him to the mall for new clothes. "We're being followed," Gibson said, tugging on her hand. She believed him. They had left the mall quickly, driven to the outskirts of Phoenix, and found a hotel room for the night. Gibson insisted that his mother would be there to meet them the day after next at the Grand Canyon.

Scully rubbed the back of her neck as she waited for the second message. The entire day had been spent driving to northern Arizona and she was ready for nothing more than a long hot bath and the forgetfulness that sleep could offer.

The second message troubled her even more. "Scully," Mulder's voice was flat. "Call me."

Scully deleted both messages and sat, her mind racing. Mulder's tone of voice bothered her. He was obviously angry. With her? The phone leapt to life in her hand, its shrill cry an accusation.

"Don't answer it." Gibson turned away from the t.v. to talk to her.

"Gibson..." Scully began and then decided to take his advice, pushing the still-ringing phone away from her.

"I know you're in big trouble. I'm sorry. My mom should be here to meet us tomorrow." Gibson's face was indeed sorrowful.

"Gibson, what's going on? Why call me at all?"

"Because I can help you. You and Agent Mulder. You guys need proof. I know where to find it."

"Where?"

Gibson shook his head and gave her an embarrassed grin. "Uh, I don't know where exactly, but I can help you find out."

The phone stopped ringing and Scully closed her eyes. At what point did I become Mulder, willing to sacrifice everything on the hint of a lead?

Gibson had moved to stand beside her, his small hand patting her shoulder in reassurance.

"I think I can help. I can help you know where to look." Gibson's hand brushed the back of her neck, over the scar that held a tiny life-saving chip, and a jolt of electricity shot down her spine causing her to pull away from him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, bewildered.

"Sorry." The light from the desk lamp reflected off Gibson's glasses, hiding his eyes from her. "I didn't know it would hurt."

"No," Scully shook her head to reassure him. "You didn't hurt me, you just startled me. What, how did you...?"

"It'll be easier to explain afterwards." Gibson cut her off and touched her shoulder again. "Just hold really still, ok?"

Scully fought a smile. Gibson so obviously believed he could help her. His hand moved again to the base of her neck. Again, an electric pulse ran along her spine, but this time it also traveled up, into her brain, immobilizing her. Scully sat paralyzed for what seemed to her an eternity. In the distance she could hear a rumbling noise, a cacophony of sound that moved closer and closer, eventually enveloping her.

...the market closed today... I can't believe you'd come this far and not even go look over the edge... would it kill them to give you a bigger bar of soap... just for the taste of it, the pure appeal of it... never been so sore in my life... clubs like that could take at least three strokes off my game....

With a small cry Scully pitched forward, slumping unconscious to the floor.

"Where did you get this?" Mulder shut the file and tossed it into the empty seat on his left. "This is a complete work of fiction. Scully is not one of Them." From her place beside him Diana touched his arm. They were on a red-eye flight from DC to Phoenix and, while there weren't many passengers near them, she wanted to avoid a scene.

"Whether you want to believe it or not, Fox , doesn't change the reality of the situation," she said quietly. Mulder shrugged. "How do you know she's clean?" Diana asked.

"How do I know?" Mulder shifted in his seat to face her. "Diana, I know my partner. I know her. Scully is one of the most honorable people I've ever known. She would never betray me."

"But she has. She didn't tell you where she was going or what she was doing even though it involves your life's work. She lied about why she was taking time off from work. Why would she keep that from you?"

Mulder looked down and fiddled with the armrest between their seats. Diana leaned closer and spoke in low voice. "Set aside your personal feelings, Fox . Look at the facts. Is there really a miracle cure for cancer in a computer chip? She faked it. They faked it. You just played right into their hands. It was all orchestrated." Her voice became more urgent. "The truth you seek is what she allows you to see. It has been all along."

"That makes no sense," Mulder hissed. "Hell, Diana, you know what Gibson is. Do you really believe he'd trust Scully if she had some secret agenda?"

Diana bit her lip as she considered his words. Then she shook her head. "No, it doesn't make sense. But why would someone so dedicated to finding the truth not look into her own disappearance? Why has she just brushed it off, never once tried to find out where she was taken or by who? If it were me I would've torn the country apart trying to find the bastards."

Mulder bowed his head, considering. How could he justify Scully's apparent disinterest in her abduction? Could she really be the spy he believed her to have been at the first?

"Fox ," Diana clasped his hand lightly, imploring him to look at her. "I know what it's like to have a partner you trust implicitly. Someone you're close to outside of work." He turned to look at her and she tightened her grip on his hand. "I know how difficult this must be for you. Please trust me. I don't want to see you hurt."

See me hurt? Just like all those years ago, Diana? You didn't want to hurt me then, either. Bittersweet longing rolled through Mulder as he remembered simpler days. Sitting this close to Diana he could detect the faint almond scent of her soap. He closed his eyes, remembering with clarity the delicate soapy taste of her skin. He remembered coming home to find Diana in the tub the night she told him she was leaving. Her long dark hair had been piled into a bun on top of her head, damp tendrils escaping to frame her face when she had looked up to see him standing in the door. Desire, guilt and sorrow had all passed over her features before she had extended a hand to him in silent invitation.

The day she left he had refused to kiss her good-bye. He had been so hurt and angered by her abrupt departure, just as he had felt they were on the cusp of something greater, that he had turned away, denying them both. It was a kiss he had longed for and regretted missing through the long, cold nights after she left. And now, she was back. Mulder still wasn't sure how he felt about her sudden return into his life.

~Trust me.~ Diana's voice repeated in his head. ~Trust me. There were things at home I decided I wanted to get back to... Hey, I'm on your side... I think about how it might've been, if I'd stayed... Trust me... I sense you could've used an ally... You mean Scully...~

Mulder closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Scully. God, Scully, what are you doing? Six years and you pick now to ditch me?

"You keep asking for my trust, Diana..." He turned to face her, searching her eyes for the truth.

"You keep pushing me away." She met his gaze, her fingers tightening around his. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you? Why do you feel like you have to break into my Apartment to check up on me? What have I done to make you doubt me?"

Mulder looked down, suddenly ashamed, as Diana continued.

"All those years in Europe, I followed your work. I made contacts over there with the hope that someday I'd return to the States and work with you again. Instead I come back to find you pushing me away. I can help you, Fox . I want to help you. Please, let me."

~Special Agent Diana Fowley of the FBI was visiting every European chapter collecting data on female abductees. Scully, you're reaching....~ You've been against her from the beginning, Scully. Jealously always seemed a petty motive for you to dislike her. Was it because you feared she could expose you?

Mulder picked up the file and opened it again, steeling himself to look at it objectively.

~Agent Fowley's report to OPR painted the facts in an interesting way. I hope you haven't been betrayed....~ Scully's troubled gaze flickered through his memory. Who's betraying who? Why would Scully locate Gibson and lie to me about where she was going?

Gibson knelt next to Scully, uncertain and more than a little scared. He hadn't meant for it to turn out like this. He knew the doctors had hoped the operation would take away his ability to communicate with the chips, but it had been interrupted. Maybe they'd only partially succeeded and he had done something wrong in trying to activate Agent Scully's chip.

She gave a small moan and Gibson sensed her consciousness returning.

"Agent Scully? Concentrate on me. Tune everything else out and concentrate on me."

Scully blinked and then shut her eyes tightly. Her head was pounding, overwhelmed by noise. Was the t.v. on? She felt like she was in a room with several radios all on different stations clamoring for her attention. "Agent Scully? Dana? Can you hear me? Concentrate on me." She could hear Gibson's voice over the others. He seemed closer, clearer than the other noises around her, and she turned her head in his direction, her eyes still squeezed shut.

"Concentrate on me. Tune out the other voices and just hear me." Scully concentrated and the chatter around her did seem to become more distant.

"Gibson," she murmured and felt relief flood through her. She opened her eyes and peered around, confused when she saw that the t.v. was off and only Gibson was in the room with her.

"It's okay. You're not crazy. You can just hear other people now."

Scully looked at him uncomprehendingly as she heard the words clearly but his lips didn't move.

A ventriloquist?

"No. You can hear me in your head. Just like I can hear you." Again, his lips had not moved.

Read minds? No. No, absolutely not.

"Yes. Yes, you can. You'll have to believe it now."

"It's not possible. How could you do that? No." Scully moved to get up, regretting it instantly as a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her.

"The chip in your neck," Gibson spoke out loud this time, realizing she wasn't quite ready to acknowledge her new talent.

Scully closed her eyes as the voices became louder again. Crazy, I'm going crazy here. Must have been something we ate for dinner.

"It wasn't dinner." Gibson's amusement was obvious.

Not dinner. Oh, God, how is that possible?

"You believe me now, don't you?" Gibson said, reaching out to steady her as she wavered on trembling legs.

"Why do I feel so awful?" It must be some kind of 24 hour virus that's going around.

"You're not sick. Once you get used to it you'll feel a lot better." Gibson gave her another smile.

"No," Scully said. I don't believe this. This isn't possible.

"After a while it's just like having a t.v. on in the background, you can tune everyone out and still concentrate. Just stay away from crowded places until you get used to it. The headache will go away after a while, too." Gibson's voice turned pleading and she could feel his unease and regret at her own discomfort.

"Please don't be mad at me. I didn't know what else to do to help you. This way, you can find the people you're looking for."

Scully covered her eyes, blocking out the light, and breathed deeply to quell the rising nausea. "Who?" she asked.

"Who what?"

"Who am I supposed to find? I don't understand."

Gibson touched her arm and guided her to sit down on the bed. "The last time I saw you, you and Agent Mulder, you were worried about getting some files back. You both wanted proof. I told you on the phone I could help you. You'd be amazed what you can learn by reading minds."

Scully sighed. "And now what? I just go up to the Smoking Man and read his mind? Gibson, I'm not sure what's going on. I don't understand what's happening here." Frustration welled up inside her and she wondered if she was hallucinating after such a long day.

"I can't believe you're still going to pretend it's not for real. I can hear what you're thinking, you know."

Of course you can. Scully took another deep breath.

I can. Just like you can hear me right now, Agent Scully. Pretending it's not real doesn't make it not so.

"But it doesn't hurt to try." Scully murmured, looking up to catch Gibson's gaze.

Gibson smiled and Scully returned the grin, reaching out to squeeze his hand lightly. "Let's get some sleep now," she suggested. "We need to get up early tomorrow so we can meet your mom."

Gibson nodded and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Left alone in the room, Scully sighed and started looking through her suitcase. In the morning, I'll feel better in the morning.

Mulder leaned his head against the window, not really seeing the barren desert landscape below him. No sooner had they got off the plane in Phoenix this morning than they had been greeted by Agent Riley from the Phoenix office.

Riley had immediately hustled them across town to a smaller airstrip, filling them in on the way. Patricia Praise, Gibson's mother, had left the Philippines two days ago, roughly the same time Scully had left Washington. Patricia had flown to Hong Kong and caught a connecting flight to New York. She had left New York late last night for a flight to Las Vegas. Riley believed that Scully and Gibson were on their way to meet her.

A park ranger at Grand Canyon National Park had called the Phoenix office two hours ago, stating that he had just received an APB and believed he had seen the women and boy described in it. The boy had taken off his baseball cap while the woman was paying the park entrance fee yesterday. You didn't see scars like that everyday.

Now Mulder, Fowley and Agent Riley were all flying north in a small plane that would have done a number on Scully's nervous flying tendencies. Not that she was here to have to worry about it.

That was the whole point.

Mulder had tried her cell phone again just before their flight left Phoenix but only got the message telling him the cellular customer was unavailable. Last night it had rung without clicking over to the auto-message. She hadn't answered, yet he was certain she had been listening to the phone ring, knowing it was him and still not picking up.

Why was she avoiding him? What was she doing? Why didn't she trust him enough to tell him what was going on? He didn't want to think about the file Diana had shown him. The file he had gone over intending to find something to point at that screamed "fraud!". Something that would prove it wasn't really her file. Instead he had found nothing he could refute.

Mulder didn't want to think about the implications, but they haunted him all the same. Diana was seated next to him again, a constant reminder of the words echoing in his head.

~Fox , you realize you lost the X-Files because of Agent Scully? If she had backed you up in front of OPR they might have voted for reinstatement. Instead, from what I hear, she said nothing to verify your story and made you look like a fool. You need to realize that she has her own motives and they aren't what you thought they were.~

He had said nothing. It was all true. Scully had backed down in front of the OPR and they were left with nothing.

Nothing except for the cancelled checks in the open file on his lap. Numbly he leafed through them again. Deposits to her bank account, each one for thirty thousand dollars. Her signature on the back of checks from a company whose name he already knew. Roush. Deposits made in March 1992, November 1994, May 1995, October 1997 and most recently September 23, 1998.

Thirty thousand pieces of silver for his soul.

South Rim Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Looking over the iron rail fence into the vast maw of the canyon below, Scully felt as if she were seven years old again. That was the year her family had all piled into an old van borrowed from friends and driven out to see the Grand Canyon. Her fear of heights was well known amongst her siblings and Bill, Jr. had taken a special delight in teasing her that he was going to throw her over the edge.

Unlike some things from her childhood, the canyon still looked just as big and frightening as it had twenty-seven years ago.

Beside her Gibson smiled. "He wouldn't really throw you in."

"No," she smiled back at him. "But I sure thought he would at the time." She looked down again, enjoying the chill wind coming up out of the canyon as it blew across her face.

Luckily, with the cooler weather and off-season in their favor, there had only been a few other tourists at the Rim. She and Gibson had been wandering around the Grand Canyon Village and the South Rim parking lot for the past few hours, waiting for his mother to arrive.

Beside her Gibson stilled, his head tilting as if he were listening for something behind him.

She's here. She's here!

Scully concentrated, trying to pick out what Gibson was hearing. She could hear only a few faint thoughts, someone on the trail below them wishing they were in better shape, someone across the parking lot wondering if it was necessary to lock the car, a few random snatches of a conversation across the road in the ranger station. It was difficult to hear anything with Gibson's excitement carooming around the inside of her head, bringing back with a vengeance the headache she'd thought she lost.

Gibson ran to the edge of the parking lot and looked down the empty road.

How can he hear anything that far away?

Once you get used to it you can hear things better. She's here! She's coming down the road now! Gibson rocked on the balls of his feet. C'mon mom!

Scully joined Gibson at the side of the road and touched his arm, to caution him back from the edge. He didn't budge but pointed as a car came up over the rise a half mile away.

"There! That's her!"

And then Scully felt Patricia's thoughts as she saw her son for the first time in months. Patricia's fatigue and worry dissipated, the car speeding up as it came closer towards them. She drove a wide berth around them, stopping the car just inside the parking area and throwing the door open wide.

"Gibson!" Tears streaked down Patricia's face as she ran forward, her arms outstretched and shaking.

Gibson ran to meet her and the two embraced, both sobbing and holding tightly to one another.

Over the din of both their thoughts Scully sensed someone watching them from across the parking lot. I'll lock the car. Better safe than sorry. Geez, what's going on over there?

Scully walked to the fence and looked down again. She felt like a voyeur being able to hear people like this. It was an intrusion into their privacy. If Gibson was going to give someone the power to read minds he should have given it to Mulder. Than again, she wasn't sure she'd want Mulder reading her mind. He already had an uncanny knack of understanding her.

Mulder.

Oh God, what was she going to tell Mulder? How was she going to explain to him that she had found Gibson, only to let him go? Obviously, Agent Riley from the Phoenix office had identified her. No doubt Mulder had been asked what his role in all this was. The voice mail he'd left her, especially following Riley's, ate at her conscience. She wondered if Riley had accused him of covering for her while she helped Gibson. Now that she had safely delivered Gibson to his mother, what was she going to do?

From the reunion taking place behind her she clearly understood that Patricia was not going back to the Philippines with Gibson, that she intended to keep him away from the men who had shaddowed them since Gibson's birth. But what kind of life was that going to be, continuously running, always hiding?

It won't matter. I can hear when people are near. If I could hide myself from them alone for months, I can certainly do it with my mom to help me.

Scully turned around to find Gibson and Patricia still embracing. Gibson looked at her over his mother's shoulder and as their eyes met they both sensed Patricia's overwhelming fatigue now that the initial rush of adrenaline had left her.

"Why don't we go back to the room?" Scully approached them, touching Patricia lightly on the arm to catch her attention. "You're exhausted, you've been traveling for days. Let's get you to a shower and a bed. After you get some rest we'll discuss what we do next."

Patricia's cheeks were streaked with tears as she faced Scully, her eyes still moist.

"Agent Scully?" Scully nodded. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping him safe. Thank you for all your help." Patricia's smile was wide and grateful.

"You're welcome." Scully found herself smiling in return. Despite her misgivings at the situation in which she now found herself, and her fear for both Gibson and his mom and what lay ahead, their joy at being back together was infectious.

Grand Canyon Airport Tusayan, Arizona

After stepping off the plane Mulder was ready to kiss the ground. The flight had seemed to last forever, but maybe that was only a reflection on the earlier seven hour flight from D.C. to Phoenix. He was sick of listening to a plane's engine and it felt good to stand on something solid that didn't hum and vibrate beneath his feet.

"We're only a few miles outside the Park here." Agent Riley spoke as he dialed his cell phone. "As soon as we can get a vehicle we'll get going. Hello? This is Riley." He turned his back to them and began speaking into the phone.

Mulder shifted impatiently beneath the weight of his overnight bag. After closing Scully's file on the plane, he had looked up to see Riley watching him intently. Riley had barely contained his shock on learning Mulder was Scully's partner. He was probably questioning Mulder's dedication to catching her. Mulder was questioning himself about the same thing. He still couldn't quite believe Scully was actually working against him, but the evidence had been damning.

Years ago Mulder had watched with amusement as Scully folded down the top right corner of her deposit slip with the checks she was depositing. She told him it helped ensure that the papers stayed together. It was a trick her father had taught her.

Every single check in that file had the top right corner creased.

But he hadn't wanted Riley and Fowley to know that. He didn't want them to know that he had actually begun to doubt her. He was certain if he could just talk to her, she would tell him what was going on. She would tell him this was all a hoax. That she wasn't taking kickbacks from the Consortium. That she wasn't avoiding him and hiding the one person she herself had said could be the key to everything in the X-Files.

Scully would never betray him. Not for any amount of money. He knew her better than that. Better than anyone. Didn't he?

Didn't he?

Riley let loose a few explicatives, breaking into his thoughts.

"I called the Park. The ranger saw your partner this morning with the boy, but when he saw her again this afternoon she was by herself. He said she's still across the road at the South Rim right now. Let's get over there and question her."

Mulder swallowed hard. Time to come clean, Scully. What's going on?

South Rim Grand Canyon, Arizona

Scully sighed, fighting the headache building again behind her eyes. Patricia had taken a shower and then collapsed onto the bed, asleep in a matter of seconds. Gibson had stayed behind with his mom while Scully had gone for a walk, feeling restless in the small hotel room.

It was a gray day. The morning's sunlight had been false advertisement as leaden clouds gathered in the sky in the afternoon, dimming the colors of the canyon around her. The wind had picked up a bit, becoming more chilly and she wished she had remembered to bring a jacket with her.

...and then she'll explain everything. She wouldn't betray me, not Scully.

Mulder.

Scully froze. Mulder was here. She knew it, sensed him as clearly as Gibson had his mother that morning. Maybe you can hear the people you know easier than total strangers? she thought as she began to turn around. Then she stopped, forcing herself to stay put as the voices in her head expanded. Mulder wasn't alone - Diana Fowley, a park ranger and another man were with him, and they were all intent on finding her and Gibson. They thought Patricia might be meeting up with them here at the Park. Scully casually looked across the parking lot, catching the ranger station out of the corner of her eye. A dark sedan pulled into the lot. She turned to look back out over the Canyon.

There she is! But where's Gibson? She wouldn't just leave him somewhere....

"I'm going to talk to her," Mulder announced, but Diana grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Wait. We don't know where Gibson is. If we alert her to our presence we may not find him."

Mulder hesitated and considered.

"You don't know her, Fox , not like you think you do. We need to find Gibson."

Gibson! Scully thought, wondering if it was possible to mentally scream loud enough for him to hear. Her mind was racing. She could sense excitement from Fowley and the other man at having found Gibson. How could she get Gibson and his mother out of the Park without their being seen?

She doesn't realize we're here. Let's try to follow her at a distance, see if she leads us to the boy....

She kept walking towards the trail that would take her along the rim of the Canyon, fighting the urge to turn around and look in the direction of Mulder.

Gibson! Can you hear me? She strained to hear if he was answering.

Dammit! Gibson, if you can hear me you need to wake up your mom. There are people are here looking for you. We need to get you out of here.

...hear me?

Gibson? Scully closed her eyes again, trying to focus on the faint sound of Gibson's thoughts in her head.

I hear them. They think I'm not with you any more. Can you hear them?

Yes. Scully listened as Riley fumed that they should just arrest her on the spot. Fowley was watching Mulder, gauging his reaction. Mulder was conflicted, wondering why she would lie to him. The park ranger was pleased to have something breaking the monotony of his day. And another man, just passing through, was watching with interest the well-dressed group observing her.

They're talking about that lady across the road, the redhead. The one with the boy and that freaked out woman this morning.

It was the man who had watched them in the parking lot that morning. Mulder noticed him, his keen mind questioning if maybe the man knew something. The man wavered for a minute, wondering if he should interrupt them. Mulder made eye contact and the man decided to speak up, it wouldn't hurt to be helpful.

Scully let out a ragged sigh as the group took in the information that she had been with a boy this morning, but he had left with herself and another woman.

One unanimous thought went out: so where were Patricia and Gibson now?

My mom's up now. We're going to leave....

No. No, Gibson. Stay put. They think you may already be gone. Let me see if I can lead them away from here and then you two can leave.

They'll find out we stayed at the lodge. They're going to come to the room.

Can you hide somewhere?

I think so. It's easy when you know where they are and where they'll look next. What are you going to do?

Scully reached into the pocket of her pants, finding her rental car key. I'm going to see if I can get them to follow me. Gibson, I'm going to drive out of the park. Let's see if we can't lead them on a snipe hunt. After a second's hesitation she began to walk toward the visitor's center.

She what? Patricia Praise's gratitude as Gibson relayed what was happening flooded through her. God bless her! I promise you son, I'll do everything I can to keep you from those people. They'll never hurt you again.

No they won't, Scully silently vowed as well. Good luck, Gibson. If you can, keep in touch.

I will. Thank you!

... looks like she's leaving. We should follow her, maybe she's going back to meet with them....

Scully made a show of checking her watch a couple of times as she walked past the darkened windows of the visitors center, trying to make it look as though she had been waiting for someone. Judging from the reaction inside her ploy was working.

The ten minute walk back to the lodge's parking area was the longest of her life. Behind her she could sense the anticipation of her pursuers. Riley was gloating, certain they were about to find Gibson and worried about how Baxter would react if they didn't. Fowley was elated they had found her, that things had worked out in a way they never could have planned for, one that was ultimately going to prove to be much more satisfying.

Scully's pace quickened as anger suffused her. What had Mulder ever seen in the woman? How could he be so blind now?

Mulder's thoughts were a jumble, he was angry with her and hurt. He was certain she had betrayed him. Scully frowned and kept walking, trying to puzzle out Mulder's attitude. How could you think you don't know me? What in the hell did she say to you? How could you trust her over me?

Red Lake Chevron Arizona Highway 180

Scully's car was sitting empty at the gas pump when they pulled in behind it.

"She's not meeting anyone." Riley announced to no one in particular. "I think she knows we're following her."

"Let's check inside," Diana said, opening the car door and getting out. "If we don't see her immediately, we'll fan out. She wasn't far ahead of us and there aren't many places she could have gone."

Mulder sat in the car watching as Diana and Riley walked into the store and began questioning the clerk.

Heaving a sigh he climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut. "Goddammit!" he swore beneath his breath. The world spun faster for a second and he actually thought he might just pitch right over onto the pavement.

How the hell did this happen? He was standing in the middle of nowhere, waiting to arrest his partner. With every minute that passed Mulder felt himself growing less sure that Scully was who he thought she was. The small seed of doubt planted by her file yesterday had grown, crushing him beneath a weight of uncertainty.

Mulder walked over and peered into Scully's rental car. A half eaten bag of pretzels and a soda can were on the console between the seats. The back seat was empty. Mulder tried the driver's side door and found it open.

Reaching down he pulled the lever to release the trunk and then walked to the back of the car. No suitcase. No overnight bag. Scully was traveling light. Or leaving in a hurry.

She knew.

She knew she was being followed. In fact, Mulder would bet she was counting on it. Her overnight bag was probably back at wherever she and Gibson had stayed last night. She had led them away from Gibson, and like idiots they had all followed her.

Mulder stood, hands on his hips, and looked around. Through the front window of the convenience store he could see Riley talking to the man behind the counter. There was a lot of head shaking and a few gestures towards the back of the store. Then he caught sight of Diana walking towards the front of the store, her hand on Scully's elbow.

Scully's head was held high and she offered no resistance when Riley put the handcuffs on. Mulder watched the whole surreal scene unfold, snapping back to reality when they stepped out of the store, guiding her towards the car.

Scully looked him full in the eye and he wavered for a moment, uncertain what to say.

"So," he asked. "Does arresting you mean I won't be getting a postcard?"

Her blue eyes flared fire for a moment so he met her anger with his own. "Where are the keys, Scully? I'd hate to see you lose the deposit on the car." When she didn't move Diana patted Scully's hips, finding the keys in her pocket and tossing them to Mulder.

"See you in Flagstaff." Mulder got in the car, his knees pressing against the steering wheel. Cursing Scully's short legs under his breath he pushed the seat back all the way. He adjusted the rear view mirror, watching Diana seat Scully in the back of their car before starting the car and driving off with a satisfying squeal of tires.

Interview Room B Coconino County Jail

For nearly an hour now Mulder had watched as Scully steadfastly refused to answer their questions. After they arrived at the jail he had stood by mutely and watched them do her intake. Now she sat across from him in an interview room, instead of beside him. By the set of her jaw Mulder was willing to bet she had a huge headache.

She barely glanced in his direction. Riley, frustrated by her silence, leaned in closer and hissed at her that she was finished. The charges being brought against her would end her career and she'd have plenty of jail time to take college courses to start a new one if she ever got out. Scully didn't even blink, her eyes moving past Riley to watch Fowley. Mulder thought perhaps Scully's eyes narrowed, though her face remained impassive.

~I think you know what I think that woman is.~ Mulder glanced at Diana who flashed him a knowing look. ~You need to realize that she has her motives and they're not what you think they are....~ Diana shifted closer to him as Riley moved past her, headed for the door.

"We leave for D.C. tomorrow morning," Diana told Scully evenly. "You may not want to talk to us, but you still have to answer to OPR." Riley looked over at Mulder and shook his head in disgust before leaving the room with a slam of the door. For several seconds Diana met Scully's defiant gaze and then she turned to Mulder. "I need to make a phone call. I'll be right back." Her hand grazed his arm as she walked away.

Across from him Scully finally met his eyes.

Mulder said nothing, letting the silence stretch out in accusation. Their eyes met and held, neither one willing to look away. Scully broke first, glancing at the mirrored wall behind him before returning her gaze to meet his.

"So, what's going on, Scully?" he finally asked.

She shook her head slightly. Anger flared through him. She wasn't going to talk to him? He knew she didn't like Diana, so he could understand her reticence to speak in front of her, but now she wouldn't talk to him? What if Diana was right? What if Scully was dirty?

Scully's eyes closed and her shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh.

"Tell me what I'm supposed to think here, Scully. You lied to me. You lied to me about Gibson. What the hell am I supposed to think? What else are you lying about?" His voice elevated in volume so that he was yelling by the last few words. Mulder rose, his chair sliding back with a high pitched squeal, and turned to regard her in the mirror.

"You can believe who you want, Mulder. It doesn't matter to me." Scully was watching his reflection warily.

Mulder met her eyes in the mirror. Did it ever, Scully? Did any of this matter? he wondered.

Scully sat up straighter. "I don't know what you've been told, Mulder, I don't know why you're questioning my loyalty."

"Why are you here, Scully? Let's start there. Why come to Arizona and lie to me about it?" He turned back around to face her.

Scully paused before speaking, her eyes searching his for a moment. "Gibson called me in the middle of the night. He said he could give me information that would help us. He specifically told me not to tell you. Not to tell anyone."

Mulder felt the tic in his jaw start up. "Why? Why not tell me? What kind of information?"

"He felt you only wanted to use him, to prove your theories, that you saw him as an object and not a little boy."

~The kid could find this thing. Mulder, this kid belongs in a hospital....~

"And you, Dr. Scully, you were the only person on the face of the earth he could count on?"

~He belongs in a bed under constant medical care. Listen to me, what I'm saying is in your best interest....~ Whose best interests, Scully? Yours or mine?

"He was waiting for his mother to get here. I helped him."

"So he's with his mother? We can drop the kidnapping charges Riley wants to peg you with?"

"He's with Patricia. Yes." Scully's tone was cautious.

"Great. And you can prove this, of course."

"Don't believe me?" She was tense, her eyes accusatory. Mulder chose to ignore the jibe.

"What information did Gibson give you in exchange for all your help?" he asked.

Scully looked away, ending the staring contest they'd been engaged in. "He didn't. He didn't tell me anything," she told him flatly.

Liar. Are you lying to protect Gibson? Or yourself?

The door opened and Diana leaned inside. "We've got a flight to Phoenix in an hour. Why don't we get to the airport. We can question her further when we get to Phoenix." She closed the door and Scully looked past him to the mirror again.

"You believe her over me. You always will." It was a simple statement, devoid of emotion.

Mulder flinched. Why did this have to be a question of who to trust? ~You ask me to trust no one and yet you trust her on simple faith. You've given me no reason to do otherwise....~ She's given me reason enough to doubt you, Scully. More than enough. And Diana has never failed to back me up. Across from him, Scully shook her head slowly before wearily closing her eyes.

Mulder picked up the file that had sat on the table the entire time. "Here, Scully." He tossed it across the table to her. "A little light reading for your flight. God knows I read enough of it on the way out here."

Was it his imagination or did she pale just a little when she opened it?

Scully fought the urge to cry, to scream, to sink to the floor in utter defeat after Mulder left the room. The noise of the police station and the surrounding urban sprawl was giving her a headache of massive proportions, making it difficult to think. She had taken Gibson's suggestion and tried concentrating on a single person at a time. At first she eavesdropped on Fowley. She had spent most of the ride silently congratulating herself on breaking once and for all the supposedly unshakable bond between herself and Mulder.

The file she had given Mulder was a fabrication, all of it, but Scully still couldn't believe that he would just accept it as truth without question. But he had. Rage and frustration filled her, bringing tears to her eyes. If Mulder didn't trust her, how could she ever prove otherwise? How could she prove that she hadn't betrayed him? Who would he trust?

Riley came in and she pushed back from the table, carefully avoiding looking at the mirror where Diana stood gloating. "I need to make a phone call," she told him.

Riley had shook his head. "We're leaving for the airport. You'll have to wait."

"No." Scully stood, pressing her hands against the table to support herself. "I need to make a phone call now."

Pulliam Airport Flagstaff, Arizona

Mulder watched as Scully's eyes squeezed shut, her handcuffed hands reaching up to rub her forehead. She looked paler than she had at the police station, her posture telegraphing to him just how horrible she felt. The sight of the cuffs on her was still jarring and a wave of compassion washed over him. This was Scully, for God's sake. The whole scene between them at the station was bothering him. He was more and more convinced that she had not spoken because of Riley and Fowley being present. She certainly had to know that they would have been in the observation room. His decision made, Mulder stood and walked over to Riley.

"Give me the key," he demanded.

"What?" Riley looked up in surprise.

"Scully's handcuffs. She's not going anywhere, there's no need to humiliate her like this. I'm taking the cuffs off."

Riley shook his head. "You know I can't do that."

Diana's lips thinned for a moment as she considered and then she spoke. "Give him the key. I don't think she's a flight risk."

Mulder held his hand out and Riley grudgingly gave him the key. Mulder moved to stand in front of Scully and gently pulled her wrist away from where she had braced it against her forehead. Scully looked up at him, blinking back unshed tears. As her right wrist came free Mulder took note of the red indent where Riley had tightened the cuffs far more than necessary.

"You ok, Scully?" he asked softly, releasing her other wrist.

Scully rubbed her wrists as she whispered. "It's just... really noisy here." She shut her eyes, leaning forward to prop her head on her hands again.

Surprised, Mulder glanced around. There were maybe a hundred people scattered around the concourse, but it certainly wasn't crowded and the noise level was such that he could hear her, even at a whisper. "There's a gift shop over there, I'll go find you some aspirin."

Scully shook her head slowly.

"Don't argue with me, Scully, it's obvious you're not feeling well." Mulder handed the key and cuffs to Riley. "I'll be right back."

Halfway to the gift shop Mulder's cell phone rang.

"Mulder," he answered.

"Mulder, you alone?" Frohike's voice was abrupt.

"Yes."

"Scully called and asked us to do a favor for her."

"When was this?"

"About an hour ago. She asked us to go to her house and her mother's house and find her old bank records."

Mulder had a sinking feeling where this was headed. "Why?"

"You tell me. It's rather interesting what we found. Her bank statements for the last September show a pretty large deposit, one she told us to look for but which she also says is bogus. The old ones in storage at her mother's house do not. She wanted us to call and let you know that the file you were given is a fake."

Mulder stood just outside the gift shop, turning to look back where Scully sat, her head still between her hands.

Which were false - her bank statements or the cancelled checks? Either Scully was setting up the Gunmen or someone was setting up Scully. He was pretty certain he knew which way the truth lay.

"I know you don't want to hear this Mulder, but we've been checking into Diana Fowley some more. We managed to hack into her bank records and noted that nearly every trip she made to Tunisia also coincided with a deposit."

"You said she went weekly. Maybe her trips only coincided with payday."

There was a short pause.

"Are you trying to imply that Diana fabricated that file? For what purpose? Even if the file is fake, that still doesn't explain why Scully's here now, why she won't talk to me or answer a single question. Scully lied to me about where she was." Mulder turned to look across the concourse to where Scully still sat hunched over. Riley glanced over at him and quickly looked away.

There was another pause and then Frohike cleared his throat. "Look, Scully wanted us to find some proof for you, something to show that the file you were given was false. You can take my word for it on what we found, or you can believe Diana on that score too." With that, Frohike disconnected.

Diana was trying hard not to smile. For years she had listened to all those aging men sigh and ponder the Scully question. How do you solve a problem like Dana Scully? From the moment she had caught Mulder's surprise at her return, she had thrilled to the chase. True, Scully was competition but apparently the hold she held over Fox wasn't as strong as Diana had been led to believe. Watching him now, conflicted and unsure of his partner, was nearly intoxicating. Diana still felt the tug of sexual attraction for him, and knew that he felt it too. Her feelings for Fox were complicated, but sometimes you had to overlook personal interest for the bigger picture. If only he would trust her more, she could help him, let him see that he was engaged in a futile battle against the wrong side.

The only obstacle in her way had been Dana Scully. This time Diana couldn't hide the smile, it had almost been too easy. An opportunity had fallen into their laps and she had made the most of it. The man tapping Scully's phone had called her moments after Scully had finished talking to Gibson. Diana had swung into action nearly as quickly as Scully had. The file she had already begun to create for Scully was finished post-haste. It helped greatly that Scully and Gibson had eluded Agent Riley. That she made no attempt to clear her name, foolishly believing her silence would buy Gibson and Patricia time.

Diana glanced at Scully, sitting next to her on the plane. Scully looked her straight in the eye and Diana blinked. It was almost as if she knew. Certainly she could guess where the file had come from. Diana had been watching from the observation room and had seen Scully gasp and falter when she was left alone with such staggering proof of her betrayal.

Diana had been unable to hear her phone conversation, and they weren't able to trace the number Scully called. Not that it mattered much. Diana, too, had made a phone call. The instructions given to her were brief but emphatic. When they got to Phoenix their plane would be met by some of Baxter's men. Agent Scully was to be handed over to them and they would continue her questioning. Diana's role was to make sure that Mulder didn't attempt to stay with Scully.

As the plane descended towards Phoenix, Scully's hands tightened on the handrest and her eyes squeezed shut. Diana idly wondered if her tumor was making a reappearance, she certainly seemed to be plagued with headaches. Not that it would matter much. Baxter's men would likely finish her off before any tumor could.

Sky Harbor International Airport Phoenix, Arizona

Mulder spent the entire flight reviewing the facts laid out before him. On one hand there was Diana. She had never given him a single reason to distrust her. She had been there when he found the X-Files, encouraged him when he had wanted to abandon hope at ever finding Samantha. Since returning from Europe she had certainly tried to help him. That Diana had given him Scully's file did not necessarily mean that she was responsible for it.

On the other hand there was Scully. How many times had he told her she was the only one he trusted? Certainly she had proven herself worthy of his trust time and again over the years. But was her loyalty to him assured by her faith in their partnership, or was it bought and paid for several times over?

~Personal interest is all I have...~

And why shouldn't it be personal to her? Certainly losing her sister hadn't been planned. But how could someone witness the unexplainable countless times and still refuse to acknowledge it had happened?

Was Scully a skeptic because it was her nature or because it kept him in line? Did she tie him down or were his words to her last summer in his hallway the truth? He had told Diana that she made him work for the truth. Time and again her strict rationalization had frustrated him to no end, even as it produced results that others were willing to take seriously. He had been a joke until Scully. Wouldn't the Consortium rather have him remain a joke?

~It comes down to a matter of trust. I guess it always has. You're asking me to make a choice? I'm asking you to trust my judgment. To trust me.~

She was right. It did come down to a matter of trust. Did he trust Scully, or the incriminating file he had been given?

Scully said Gibson had not wanted his help. While it was true he had been thrilled for the possibilities Gibson presented, he had not been uncaring about what happened to the boy. And yet, Gibson had not called him. He had not called Diana, whom he had also spent time with. Once again, Gibson was the key. If Scully were dirty, Gibson would have known it. He never would have trusted her. But he had - Scully had been the one person he felt he could trust. Gibson's trust in Scully was what had set all this in motion.

Riley nudged him. "You awake? Let's get moving."

All the other passengers had exited, a few seats ahead of him Mulder could see Diana and Scully moving into the aisle. Diana had gone first and Mulder hurried to catch up to Scully. His hand moved to touch the small of her back and her shoulders straightened, as if she understood that he was offering silent support.

Right behind you, Scully.

Once they stepped out of the plane and began to walk up the ramp to the gate, he moved to walk alongside her. Diana was a few paces ahead of them and Riley hadn't left the plane yet when Scully stopped, grabbing his wrist and looking up at him. Her headache didn't seem to have improved, she still looked like she was in pain. "I need to talk to you alone," she said in a low tone, casting a furtive glance towards Diana.

Mulder nodded.

She began walking again as Riley came around the corner from the plane. Mulder took a few steps to catch up to Scully and they walked in silence into the airport. Diana was talking to two men in suits and Riley brushed past to go speak to them.

"Mulder," Scully looked up at him and he caught the flicker of fear in her eyes. "Don't...."

She was interrupted by Diana, who took Scully's arm, leading her over to the small group. Mulder followed close behind.

"These are Agents Holland and Cummings from the Phoenix office," Riley introduced them and the two men both reached out to shake Mulder's hand. Mulder kept his hands on his hips, refusing the gesture. Cummings, the shorter of the two shrugged and unclipped the handcuffs from his belt.

"Wait a minute, there's no need to cuff her," Mulder said as Cummings snapped the first cuff shut. Mulder stepped closer to Scully and grabbed her still unincarcerated wrist so that Cummings couldn't finish the job. Scully said nothing, her gaze fixed on Agent Holland.

"They're here to take her into custody," Riley said.

"She's already in custody," Mulder returned.

"Agent Mulder, I think you're too close to this case to be objective, as is Agent Fowley. You both know Agent Scully personally and can't be expected to have the burden of arresting an associate. Let go of her wrist."

"What a load of crap! If we were too close why did you let us go with you to arrest her in the first place?"

"Please release her wrist, Agent Mulder. You know as well as we do that it is protocol to handcuff a prisoner." Cummings tried to reason with him.

"Fox , they're right. We can't be the ones responsible for Agent Scully. When we left for the Grand Canyon we couldn't have been certain that we would find her there. We were just following a lead. You need to let them take her." Diana's dark eyes surveyed the small crowd in the waiting area. "Please don't make a scene. Just let them do their job."

"No," Scully finally spoke up, her voice strained. "I don't believe they are agents with your office. If you want me to go quietly you can put the cuffs on, but I ride with Agent Mulder, not them."

Agent Cummings sighed and pulled his ID out of his suit coat holding it up for Scully's approval. Holland did likewise.

"Agent Mulder has been on this case over 24 hours non-stop now, I cannot allow it. You will ride with Holland and Cummings or we will add 'resisting arrest' to your charges."

"Then I go, too," Mulder said.

"It's late," Diana said. "We should check into a hotel and we can take care of all this tomorrow. Let them take her, Fox ."

Scully's eyes met his and the decision was made.

"No," he said.

For a moment no one moved, then Holland gave a curt nod. "Suit yourself. Let's just get going, ok? I'd like to get home at a reasonable hour."

Cummings lifted the dangling cuff and gestured to where Mulder still held Scully's arm. "Can we finish this?"

Mulder hesitated, his fingers tightening unconsciously around her wrist. Scully pulled her arm gently away from him and he let go. She allowed Cummings to lock the second cuff. Holland took her elbow and began to lead her away, down the concourse. Mulder moved to follow but Diana stepped in front of him.

"What's this all about?" she asked.

He sidestepped her and kept walking towards Scully.

"Fox , what's going on? Why is it so important that you ride with her?" she asked as she kept pace beside him.

"Why is it so important that I don't?" Ahead of him Scully slowed down and stumbled. Mulder quickened his pace but Cummings was already there and took her other arm. "Something's wrong here, Diana." A wave of people moved across the concourse in front of them, slowing him down and blocking his view of Scully.

"What? Mulder, tell me what you think is going on here."

"This whole set-up stinks, Diana. Tell me where you got that file." Diana quickened her steps, trying to keep up as Mulder realized that Holland and Cummings were nearly to the door.

Riley caught up to them and grabbed Mulder's arm. "I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this."

Mulder twisted away, searching above the crowd for a glimpse of Scully. He saw them just as they reached the airport's doors. Scully slumped, not falling to the ground since they were holding her up but her legs seemed to have crumpled beneath her. Neither man missed a step, dragging Scully along, her legs now trailing behind her as they stepped through the automatic doors.

Mulder charged forward, pulling away from Diana and Riley who both shouted after him. Mulder pushed against the people around him as he tried to get to the door. Outside Mulder looked both ways frantically, fear bubbling up inside him. Scully was right, they weren't with the Phoenix office. The sun had set, but the bright parking lot lights revealed to him a flash of auburn and he hurried in that direction. They were moving into the far end of short term parking, back where the lights didn't seem to reach. It appeared as though Hammond had thrown a limp and unresisting Scully over his shoulder. Mulder's hand felt for his gun, even as he raced towards them.

Cummings had run ahead and was unlocking a vehicle. Mulder's legs pumped furiously and he was only about twenty yards away when Holland dumped Scully unceremoniously in the backseat.

"Stop!" he yelled and both men looked over at him. Cummings climbed into the driver's side while Holland shut the back passenger door. In a burst of adrenaline Mulder launched himself, tackling Holland as he reached to open the front passenger door. They collided against the truck parked in front of Cummings' car. Cummings started the car and backed out, intent on leaving regardless. Mulder grunted as Holland twisted to catch him around the throat in a wrestler's hold.

The car lurched forward, traveled about ten yards, and then slowed. Mulder grunted as Holland's arm tighted. Flashes of light were going off in his peripheral vision as he made a last ditch effort, taking a few steps forward and then slamming Holland into the truck again. For a moment his grip loosened, but not long enough to get away. Glancing down, Mulder could see his gun where it had dropped to the ground, but couldn't reach it. His left hand fumbled for his handcuffs and his right hand tried in vain to loosen Holland's hold. Gripping his cuffs, he attempted a deep breath and then jerked forward again.

Holland's grip loosened as he lost his balance. As Mulder slammed them both back into the truck again he snapped the cuffs around Holland's wrist, yanking it quickly and latching the other end around the truck's side view mirror. Bending down he picked up his gun and pointed it unsteadily at Holland as his lungs took in blessed amounts of air.

Holland began pulling the side view mirror in an attempt to loosen it. Mulder turned quickly to check on the car. It had stopped dead, the engine off. Keeping his gun trained on Holland, he hurried to the car.

"Scully?" he called as he got closer.

He yanked open the driver's side door and saw Cummings pulled back against the seat, the chain on Scully's handcuffs around his neck. Scully was slumped forward, her hands limp on either side of Cummings face.

"Scully? You okay?"

"We have to leave here now." It was a hoarse whisper.

Mulder pulled Cummings out onto the blacktop and began searching through his suit coat for the handcuff key. When he glanced up to check on Holland, he saw the man had nearly worked the mirror off the truck. In the distance he could see Riley and Diana running towards them. His fingers closed over the small key in triumph and he climbed into the car. It was a stick shift - it only took him a moment to remember how to drive one. Pushing the clutch in he turned the engine over and shifted into first gear. In the rear view mirror he saw Holland pull free of the truck.

He popped the clutch and raced towards the gate. He couldn't see a validation ticket and wasn't about to stop so he sped through, breaking off the gate as he did so.

"Are you okay back there?" he asked checking the rear view mirror to see if they were being followed. There was a shuttle bus and a minivan behind them but he couldn't see anyone else.

"Just get away from the city," Scully said. "It's too noisy here."

Noisy? Inside the car all he could hear was the whisper of the tires against the pavement and the soft clink of Cummings' keys against the steering column. Her headaches and aversion to noise were entirely new to Mulder. Was this the return of her cancer or was it something else?

Mulder took the first exit onto an interstate highway, shifting the car into overdrive as they began to head north.

US Hwy 93, Arizona

Scully lay slumped against the back seat, utterly exhausted. It had taken over an hour to get away from Phoenix and its suburbs. Not even trying to concentrate on a single person's thoughts had worked. There were simply too many people, too many thoughts crowding for attention. She had never felt so paralyzed in all her life. The sparsely peopled flight from Flagstaff had been a brief respite, if you discounted Diana. Stepping off the plane with Mulder behind her, his trust in her rediscovered, she had started to believe they really might be okay.

Cummings and Holland frightened her more than Mulder realized. She knew he picked up on her fear, but he hadn't known why she was afraid. Diana and Riley both had known that Baxter's men would be taking her from the airport. But who Baxter was Scully couldn't tell. With all the noise in the airport, it was difficult to concentrate, but Scully had been able to glean from Riley and Cummings that Gibson was somehow important to Baxter's work, now that the "wellspring" was gone.

Cummings had mostly been intent on delivering her to Baxter, he had been annoyed with Diana for not keeping Mulder in line. It was Holland who frightened her most. She had been unable to read his mind. He was like a dark space in the room, dead air on a radio. She was almost certain he knew a way to keep his thoughts hidden from her. When Holland had touched her she had felt it like a mild electrical shock, one that had slowly immobilized her. Her limbs still felt heavy and tingly from the contact. Whoever Holland was, he was trouble.

In addition to the lassitude brought on by Holland's touch, the longer she was in the airport, the more time she remained close to a big city like Phoenix, the more painful her headache became. By the time they had reached the airport's doors she had literally been unable to take another step. In the car, amongst all the noise and confusion, she had felt Mulder's desperation and fear for her as Cummings and Holland tried to take her. When Mulder tackled Holland she had summoned up all the strength she had, looping her hands over Cummings and pulling back hard until he passed out. Her arms still shook from the effort that had required.

Now, far from civilization, there was no one to listen to but Mulder. As he drove his thoughts scattered and bounced like confetti in her head. Scully had never felt so much like a voyeur as she did now, hearing Mulder's private musings. His mind circled, wondering how she had known about Holland and Cummings. He wondered where Gibson was and if they were going to meet up with him. He wondered about the file he had been given and where it came from. He glanced often into the rear view mirror, checking for headlights behind them and checking on her. The longer she remained silent, the more worried he became.

Scully wanted to call out to him and reassure him that she was fine, but she couldn't summon the energy. Her body was depleted completely, reminding her of the time she had battled the cancer. Her limbs felt heavy and she was finding it harder and harder to stay awake.

They passed a road sign advertising a KOA Kampground a few miles ahead. Checking his watch, Mulder saw that it was just past 11:00, they had been on the road for nearly three hours, he was certain that in another five minutes his bladder was going to give out. Plus he wanted to call the Gunmen and get a heads-up on what was happening at the Bureau. His cell phone was gone, no doubt lost during the struggle with Holland.

After turning off the road and crossing a small bridge Mulder drove the car down a narrow gravel road. A few lights shone through the trees before the car rounded a curve bringing them to the KOA's office. Mulder could see the darkened outline of a man sitting in the shadows of the office's porch as he turned off the engine.

"Be right back, Scully," he said softly in case she was still awake, opening the door and stepping out into the chilly evening air. Mulder approached the silent figure on the porch. "Hello?"

"Evening," came the slowly drawled reply.

"Is there a public phone here?"

"Around back." Mulder was close enough to see the man nod his head towards the corner of the office.

"Thanks." Mulder walked around the building and found the pay phone between the men's and women's restroom doors. Without a moment's hesitation he pushed into the men's room, despite the large sign on the door that warned the showers/restrooms were for kampground patrons only.

A couple of minutes later Mulder came back out, feeling like a new man. He was digging through his pocket for change when the man from the porch stepped around the corner. "I don't think your wife feels very good."

"Pardon?" Mulder looked up, startled.

"The lady with you? Your wife? She got out of the car, but she looked like she was going to faint. I've got her sitting inside the office."

Scully. Oh god, what was wrong with Scully? Her lethargy since they had left the airport was scaring him. His heart squeezed inside his chest as he followed the man back around the building and into the office.

Scully was leaning back on a orange and avocado-striped couch straight from the 1970's. Her face looked flushed and she had a fine sheen of sweat across her brow. Her eyes fluttered open when she heard them enter, but she didn't seem able to focus her gaze. The office manager was a slight but spry man in his 60's whose nervous fingers tapped against the counter while he watched Mulder kneel next to Scully. Picking up one of her hands Mulder was alarmed to feel how hot her skin was.

"I'm ok," she murmured, closing her eyes again. "I was just a little dizzy when I got out of the car."

Mulder said nothing, unconvinced, and Scully pulled her hand free. "Please, I'm fine. Go make your phone call and then let's find someplace for the night."

"You're miles away from town," the office manager spoke up. "It's at least 30 miles to Wikieup, further than that to Wickenburg."

Mulder let out a soft sigh of frustration. Truth be told, he was ready to drop from exhaustion. Riley was correct back at the airport when he said that Mulder had been working for over 24 hours. If they drove to Wickenburg they'd be backtracking. There had been no headlights behind them, they weren't being followed closely, at the very least. Mulder was certain that Holland and Cummings weren't just going to let them slip away. With a grim smile he realized this was probably the first time he had ever put his job on the line for Scully's sake, whereas she had done so multiple times for him.

And you thought she betrayed you.

"We've got cabins here, if you're interested." The office manager gave them a hopeful smile.

Mulder glanced at Scully and decided that she needed rest, not a long car ride.

"How much?" he asked, standing up to walk over to the counter and pulling out his wallet.

"Twenty-five dollars for the night." The man hesitated for a moment. "You don't have any sleeping bags do you?" Mulder shook his head. "Tell you what, I'll throw some blankets in for free. You look like you probably couldn't even drive back across the bridge, let alone down the highway."

"Thanks." Mulder managed a smile and the man waved it off, walking over to a cabinet and hunting for a key, holding a couple up experimentally before replacing them. "Why don't you help her out to the car and I'll find some gear for you."

"I'm fine, Mulder," Scully said, standing up only to sway on her feet. Mulder took her arm anyway and she made no protest. He opened the front passenger door and helped her settle into the seat. "This time stay here, ok? I'll be right back." Turning around to go back inside he noticed the sign on the corner of the building that read "General Store". Back inside the office the manager had stacked a couple of blankets on the counter along with an old flat pillow.

"I don't suppose you have any Tylenol over in the store, do you?" Mulder asked. The man smiled and shuffled towards the door joining the office and store.

"Go on in and look around, seems like we've got that but I couldn't say for sure." He opened the door and flipped the light on. "Get whatever you need."

Mulder murmured his thanks as he stepped into the store. There were only three aisles and he paced them quickly, grabbing a few items off the shelf and returning to the office.

Mulder scribbled out the registration card while his purchases were totalled. The man handed him a key and nudged the blankets closer along with a bag filled with his purchases. "It's the first cabin at the end of the road here. The restrooms and showers are, well, you already found those." He gave Mulder a small smile. "Check out is 11:00 a.m. tomorrow."

"Thanks again." Mulder picked up the blankets and bag off the counter and went back outside to the car. Scully's forehead was resting against the window, her eyes shut, and Mulder swallowed hard when his throat tightened suddenly on him. What if this was the cancer, back for another round?

"I got us food, Scully," he said as he opened the back door, setting the blankets inside. He shut the door and walked around to get in the car himself. "Well, some crackers and that cheese in a can, anyway. I also got you some Tylenol for your fever. I figure after all the times you've taken care of me, it's about time I repaid the favor."

"You don't owe me." Mulder could barely hear her, but he told himself it was because he was starting the car. It was just the flu. Nothing was seriously wrong with her. She was going to be okay. She had to be.

Driving around the office, the car crunched along the gravel of the road as they passed motor homes and trailers, some with lights on, a couple boarded up, before reaching two split log cabins. Both cabins were small with a picnic table and barbecue grill in front of the porch. Mulder parked in front of the first one and turned the car off. Beside him Scully shivered. "You cold, Scully?" He reached out, resting his hand against her forehead. It was still hot.

"A little, I think I'm just tired. I'll be okay in the morning." Her words were slightly slurred as her hand fumbled for the door handle. Mulder hurried to get out and help her.

He reached her door just as she got it open. "Here, let me," he tried to take her arm, but she weakly pushed him away.

"I can do it," she mumbled.

"No, you can't. C'mon Scully, let me help you." His voice came out gruff as he tried to hide how badly she was scaring him. He put his arm around her as they began to walk towards the cabin. By the time they reached the porch she was shaking hard. Mulder held her closer and she allowed it, leaning heavily against him while he unlocked the door. He pushed the door open, feeling along the wall for the light switch as they practically staggered inside together.

The cabin was tiny inside, barely 8 x 8 feet with a low ceiling. There were two windows, one looking out onto the porch, and the other at the rear of the cabin. A plastic chair sat to the left of the rear window. On the right were bunkbeds with bare mattresses. Mulder walked her over to the beds and Scully sat down on the bottom bunk, shivering violently.

"I'm going to go grab the blankets, ok?" Mulder gave her shoulder a squeeze before rushing outside to the car. When he came back she was still shaking, starring dazedly at the floor. Mulder unfolded one of the blankets, tucking it around her shoulders before he knelt down in front of her, pulling the blanket closed around her.

"Scully? I'm going to run back up to the office, there was a soda machine outside. I want you to think warm thoughts until I get back, ok?" Mulder felt an irrational fear that he was going to come back to find her worse.

Scully opened her eyes and looked at him, venturing a grimace he was sure had been meant as a smile. "Mulder, I hear you." The fever couldn't hide the affection in her gaze.

Mulder smiled at her, pulling the blanket a little tighter around her as he stood up. "Good. I'll be right back."

After he left Scully sat, shivering and listening as he jogged down the road to the office.

~Pepsi? Coke? Saline IV? Something sweet.~

Ah, Mulder, you don't understand. I hear you.

When Mulder returned Scully was lying on her side, her knees tucked up to her chest in an effort to keep warm. "Still cold?" he asked.

"Mmmm?"

"I'm going to need you to sit up again, just for a minute, and take these for me." Mulder opened the travel packet of Tylenol and the can of soda. He sat down on the chair, pulling it closer to the bed, and handed her them to her when she sat up. She swallowed the Tylenol, taking a few sips of the soda before handing the can back to him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"No." She shook her head slightly.

"How are you feeling? Are you still cold? Is your headache gone?"

"I'm just tired, Mulder. I'll be okay in the morning." Scully closed her eyes and took a deep breath and Mulder leaned closer, trying to catch her words. "I've just felt exhausted since the airport. Holland, when he touched me, it was weird."

"Weird how?"

"I couldn't move. It was strange." Her voice was barely above a whisper and her eyes were glassy when she opened them again. "I couldn't hear him, Mulder. I don't know where Gibson is, but they thought I did. They'll do anything to get Gibson back. And Baxter...." she drew in a shaky breath. "I don't know who Baxter is."

"Baxter?" Mulder shook his head in confusion. He had never seen her babble before and the effect was frightening. "Scully, I want you to rest now. You're tired, you're feverish, and you're not making much sense. We'll figure all this out in the morning, okay?" He reached out, gently brushing the hair off her cheek and tucking it behind her ear.

"No, I should tell you...." she protested as the backs of his fingers stroked soothingly over her cheek. Scully closed her eyes, overwhelmed, as she felt both the affection in his touch and the tender bent of his thoughts. She blinked back unexpected tears at the same time Mulder did. Maybe he was right, she should rest. This could wait until morning. Telling Mulder about her new gift was only going to raise questions she was too tired to answer. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell him and they would figure out what to do next.

Mulder leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead, checking for fever. She was still warm but she didn't feel as hot as she had earlier. He lowered her slowly to the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. When Scully trembled again he stood up and spread the second blanket over her.

She stirred, protesting softly that he should take a blanket for himself, but he ignored her, lifting the bottoms of the blankets to take off her shoes before tucking the ends under her feet. Then he stood, his eyes staring unfocused at the wall behind Scully as he tried to piece together what had brought them to this point.

Gibson called Scully, asking for help but warning her not to tell anyone. She had honored that request, even in the face of being arrested. Obviously someone was still looking for Gibson. Were Cummings and Holland working for whomever was searching for Gibson? Was it the Baxter person that Scully had mentioned? Did Gibson warn Scully about Baxter? About Holland and Cummings? Was that how she had known not to trust them?

Even more distressing, how involved was Diana in all this? Was she being played for a fool? Or was he?

Blinking a few times to bring himself back to the present, Mulder glanced at Scully's slumbering form one more time before leaving the cabin. He still had a phone call to make.

Somewhere out in the darkness a car was driving down Highway 93. As the car passed the weathered sign advertising the KOA the driver smiled. She was there.

He, too, drove across the bridge and manuevered the curves. The proprieter had long since fallen asleep, but the man needed no directions and drove unerringly around the office and down the gravel road towards the cabins.

There it was - Cummings' missing car. The man's heart beat faster in anticipation as he parked alongside it, killing the engine and getting out of the car. Silently he approached the cabin, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Both agents were asleep, their rhythmic breathing unconsciously mirroring each other's. Neither one stirred as he moved closer, lifting his gun to point it at the forehead of the man sleeping in the chair.

The sound of the gunshot awoke Scully and she sat up, gasping for air. Beside her Mulder startled, one hand reaching for his weapon, the other stretching towards her.

"Scully?"

Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard. It was just a dream - just a dream. Scully took a deep breathh, her mind racing beyond Mulder's concern, past the faint dreams of the other people in the camp, straining to hear... nothing.

"Scully?" Mulder asked again, his voice and anxiety pulling her back.

"I'm ok," she whispered. Adrenaline still raced through her body, causing her to shiver. She couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "We have to leave here, Mulder. I think they're close."

Who was close? Holland and Cummings? Baxter?

"Okay," Mulder said, glancing at his watch. It was nearly 3 a.m. "I called the Gunmen after you fell asleep. They're looking into Holland, Cummings and Riley for us, also that name 'Baxter' that you gave me."

Scully gave a nod, closing her eyes as she sensed Mulder's next words.

"It's official, Scully. We're fugitives. The boys tell me I'm wanted on charges ranging from assaulting an officer to damaging airport property. They have you down for kidnapping, resisting arrest, assault...." Mulder's voice trailed off and he chuckled, belying his worried thoughts. Scully opened her eyes and met his as he cleared his throat and continued speaking.

"So we've got the thirty dollars left in my wallet and a stolen car to get us to Las Vegas. The boys have a friend in Nevada who will meet us there, Frohike thinks he'll be willing to help us. At the very least it'll be a safe place to hang out while we decide what to do next."

Mulder reached down and handed Scully her shoes before standing up. She took them and looked up at him. Mulder's thoughts were racing, wondering if a lone car on a deserted highway in the middle of the night would draw attention. Assuming they were looking for them on Highway 93. Just how far had the search expanded?

Scully shuddered as she wondered what would happen to them if Holland found them. She couldn't shake the dream and she couldn't discount the feeling of premonition. She stilled, listening to the darkness outside. She felt a tickle at the edge of her mind, a brush against nothing that troubled her. "Let's go, Mulder."

Northwest Parking Lot Circus Circus Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada

For over 200 miles Scully had sat debating the wisdom of telling Mulder what Gibson had done. If it were anyone else her biggest fear would have been that they wouldn't believe her. In fact, if it were anyone else she would never even tell them. But Mulder -Mulder would want to know. It was the thought of what Mulder would do with the knowledge that kept her silent. Once he found out, everything would change. She told herself she was only delaying the inevitable, giving herself a few last moments of peace.

The further north they traveled, the bigger the towns they passed through became. By the time they crossed Hoover Dam, headed for Las Vegas, the noise in her head brought tears to her eyes. It was all she could do to try and blot out the noise.

Mulder cast another uneasy glance at Scully. She had become progressively paler since Hoover Dam. She sat now, with her eyes closed and her head tilted back on the seat, clenching and unclenching her hands restlessly. They had been circling the parking lot for nearly fifteen minutes now, awaiting the arrival of Vernon Geake.

"A real computer Geake." Frohike had deadpanned last night on the phone.

Ahead of them, Mulder saw a old pickup truck pull into the lot. Scully opened her eyes, blinking against the light for a moment before focusing on the truck.

"That's him," she said.

Mulder nodded his agreement. Frohike had said a white Ford truck, Nevada plates. Mulder pulled into an open spot, turning the car off and leaving the keys in the ignition. They both stepped out as the truck came around the end of the row of cars a rolled to a stop in front of them.

The driver inside smiled widely, gesturing for them to climb inside. Mulder opened the door, his hand reaching out to help Scully as she stumbled getting in.

"I got it, thanks," she said, moving over on the bench seat to make room for him.

Mulder climbed in and Vernon started the truck moving, reaching over to shift gears and bumping against Scully's knee in the process. Scully slid closer to Mulder as Vernon's thoughts took a faintly lecherous turn. Mulder was checking the side view mirror, watching for cars behind them.

"I'm just pleased to finally be meeting you," Vernon said, and to his credit he really meant it. Scully gave him a polite nod and Vernon grinned back revealing a gap-toothed smile.

"I've been hearing about you for years from the Gunmen, I contribute to the newsletter...." Vernon trailed off, waiting to see if Mulder had heard of him.

click

"You wrote about the Nevada Testing Sites last May." Mulder turned to watch Vernon's smile widen.

"That was me! Yep. I keep an eye on Groom Lake for them, I can't wait to show you my setup. I tell you what, some nights you can see the lights out to the west, maybe they'll put on a show while you're out there."

Vernon turned the car down Sahara Boulevard and headed towards the freeway, relishing his new role as benefactor to the great Fox Mulder.

U.S. Highway 93 Outside Ash Springs, Nevada

Mulder sat watching the arid landscape of Nevada speed past. He was half-asleep, lulled by the sway of the truck into a stupor. For the first hour Vernon had prattled on about various government conspiracies, but Mulder had been too tired to really follow the conversation and finally Vernon had lapsed into silence.

Beside him Scully was staring out the front window, her expression blank. Mulder was willing to bet she was just as tired, but too tense to allow herself to sleep until she was sure they really were safe. With three adults in the cab of the truck, there wasn't much room and Scully seemed to prefer sitting closer to him than to Vernon. The press of her thigh against his had niggled at the back of his mind the entire trip and he had spent more time than he would care to admit to lost in the recollections of all the times he had deliberately touched her simply for the guilty pleasure of doing so.

Mulder closed his eyes, they felt dry and scratchy. He wanted nothing more than to be able to brush his teeth and fall asleep for days. "Not much further, now," Vernon spoke up. "We turn off the highway here in about a mile. If you have time, while you're here, I could drive you out past Rachel, right on the 'Extraterrestrial Highway'. You realize, of course, we've been driving alongside the infamous Area 51 for the past hour?"

"We were here last year," Mulder said, glancing down at Scully.

~Don't you ever want to just stop the car, get out and lead a normal life?~ Right now, I do, Scully. God, what's a normal life anymore anyway? I'd settle for a nice unexplained death and not having to worry about the larger picture.

"Really? What for?" Vernon asked.

"We thought we had a source in Area 51," Scully spoke up softly. "But it turned out to be a wasted trip."

Vernon grunted in reply, slowing the truck to turn left onto a dirt road. "A wasted trip. There are plenty of those to be found out here. But when you really start looking close, there's more than meets the eye in the desert. It looks barren until you get to know it. There's ghost towns all over out here, places that went bust when the bottom dropped out of the silver market back in the early 1900's. About ten years ago I took sabbatical from my job as an anthropology professor to do research on a few of them."

The truck began to climb the steep foothills, the road growing more rutted causing Vernon's voice to bounce as they rattled along. "My interest was piqued when I was denied access to what the map lists as a wildlife protection area. I know there's towns in there, lost to history, but our government won't let me in to explore them. That started me thinking, got me interested in the area. I met Frohike and Langly at a protest about seven years ago, back when the government was still acknowledging that they tested nuclear weapons out here."

"You think they're still doing the testing?" Mulder asked.

"You think they're not?" Vernon countered.

Scully arched her brow. "Nuclear testing is no longer needed. We have a full understanding of the bomb's capabilities and an even greater understanding of the hazards of continuing such testing."

"Right." Vernon stretched the word out, shaking his head and marveling that someone who had seen as much as Agent Scully no doubt had could still be trusting.

Scully almost blurted out that she wasn't trusting, just questioning the rationality of continued testing in the face of so much collected data, but stopped herself. Beside her Mulder was musing along the same lines as Vernon. Scully smiled to herself.

Is there a story you won't believe, Mulder?

The truck hit a large bump, throwing Scully against Mulder, her breast brushing against his arm. Mulder swallowed reflexively, wondering why he never took advantage of the quieter times in their lives to explore his feelings, why he always waited until the bullets were flying, so to speak, before realizing that Scully was not just his partner, but a woman. He turned his head to look at her and was surprised to see that she was wearing her Mona Lisa smile as she gripped the seat and braced her legs against the floor in an attempt to keep from becoming a human pinball.

Vernon noticed her discomfort and tried to reassure her. "Once we get to the top of the bluff it's not so bad. The road got washed out here during the winter." He was nearly shouting to make himself heard over the rattle of the truck.

True to his word, the road did smooth out a little after they crested the bluff. The road turned sharply a few times as they traveled down a ravine and Scully realized that the road was, in fact, a dried creek bed. When they picked up the actual road again it was with a bounce that sent her sliding into Mulder, her elbow knocking his ribs.

Oh Scully. You gotta stop doing that. I must be really tired if this is turning me on. One more bounce and I'll be over the line. Mulder held onto the dash in an effort to keep from careening into Scully as Vernon made a quick left, the truck dipping to descend into a small canyon.

One toke over the line, sweet Jesus. One toke over the line... Mulder sang to himself. Scully's arms flew up, bracing herself against the truck's roof. With every bump the truck hit her breasts bobbed. He looked away.

...sittin' downtown in a railway station. One toke over the line.

They came around another corner and saw a small house with a large satellite dish in front of it. "There I am," Vernon nodded towards the house.

"Great," Scully said and actually smiled, looking sidewise at Mulder.

"Would it offend you if I kissed the ground when we stop?" Mulder asked.

Vernon laughed. "This ride was nothing. You want some bone-rattling, death-defying four-wheeling, I'll take you up to some of the ghost towns hereabouts."

"Some other time," Mulder said.

The truck stopped and all of them climbed out, Mulder and Scully flexing their legs and arms after so many hours spent traveling.

"C'mon inside. I've got cold drinks and indoor plumbing." Vernon opened his front door and beckoned to them.

"I always knew I could be had cheaply." Mulder remarked, rolling his head to loosen his neck muscles. To his surprise Scully gave him a warm smile, touching his arm briefly as she passed him.

"I always knew you could too, Mulder."

"Hey, Mulder! They haven't arrested you yet?" Frohike's voice crackled over the long distance lines and Mulder could picture him gesturing to Byers and Langly that he'd finally called back.

"Don't sound so disappointed. What did you find? Make it good."

"We're not sure yet. We did some checking on Agent Riley, he comes up clean. He's been with the Bureau for twelve years, spotless record. I couldn't find anything on any Agents Cummings or Holland, at least not any Cummings or Hollands matching your description of them."

"What about that name, Baxter?"

"What about it? Dead end. There are 43 Agent Baxters in the FBI but I don't see a connection with any of them. Could Baxter be a place? There are five towns in the U.S. named Baxter."

Mulder looked at Scully who was sitting by him, her brows knit together in thought. She sensed his gaze and looked up at him.

"Scully, Baxter - could it be a place and not a person?"

Scully thought about it, trying to remember the context in which it had been used before shaking her head. "The impression I got was that Baxter was going to be unhappy about losing Gibson. I don't think it could be a place."

"No go on the place, Frohike. Sounds like a person."

In the background he heard Langly mumbling something before the phone was passed to him.

"Hey Mulder, what if Baxter isn't a name, but an acronym?"

"For what?" Mulder asked and Scully leaned forward.

"There's a company in West Virginia that's been doing genetic research for the past twenty years, the Barron Centers for Transgenetic Research - B.C.T.R. Baxter. They've had some success with gene splicing and it's rumored they've made giant strides in cloning." As Langly spoke Mulder could hear the clatter of his computer keyboard.

"Baxter." Scully spoke the word softly. "I've heard of them."

Mulder nodded to her and was about to speak when Langly came back on the line.

"Mulder? You're gonna love this. There was some kind of scandal in the late 80's during which time most of Baxter's projects were disbanded but, in March 1988 they were still running a fertility clinic. Guess who was conceived at Baxter?"

"Gibson Praise."

"Give the man a Kewpie doll."

"Oh my god," Scully spoke softly.

"You've been a huge help, boys. Thanks."

"Keep in touch, man." With that, Langly hung up.

"Why now, Mulder? Why go looking for Gibson now? Surely they've known where he was all these years?"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe they didn't realize they needed Gibson until now."

Scully sighed. "They said something about a 'wellspring'. The 'wellspring' is gone and now they need Gibson."

"For what purpose? What was the 'wellspring'?"

"We need to go there," Mulder spoke up and Scully gave him a weary nod. "We need to find out why they're looking for Gibson."

I should tell him.

"Anyone hungry?" Vernon poked his head into his "command center", the room jammed with computers, maps and photographs of abandoned buildings in which they sat.

Starved, actually, Mulder thought, realizing that he hadn't eaten more than a packet of airline peanuts and a couple of crackers in the past 24 hours.

"Let's eat, get some rest and tomorrow we can figure out how to get to West Virginia," Scully said. "We're not going to do much good setting out now exhausted and famished."

"Quite right," Vernon grinned at them, looking forward to the prospect of eating with company. "Quite right."

After lunch Scully had announced she wanted to take a short walk and stretch her legs. Mulder had opted for staying behind, certain he was about to fall asleep at any moment. But once he had laid down on the cot Vernon provided he found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind grappling with Gibson, Baxter, and the strange turn of events that had led them here.

Scully had a point. If they'd known where Gibson was all these years, why pick now to try and reclaim him? For what purpose? And what was the 'wellspring'? Was it somehow connected to Gibson's abilities? Was it the source of Gibson's alien DNA? If that was true perhaps the 'wellspring' was Cassandra or one of the other abductees burned alive by the rebels over the past year.

Gibson had told Scully he could help them, give them proof. What kind of proof had he been offering them? More blood samples? A tissue biopsy? Scully didn't appear to have any new proof to offer, perhaps she and Gibson had split up before he'd had a chance to give it to her. If she hadn't overhead the conversation about Baxter they'd be at a complete dead end.

Come to think of it - when *did* she hear the conversation about Baxter? They had only been separated a few minutes at the Flagstaff airport and he'd had a clear view of both Riley and Diana, neither one had spoken. No mention of Baxter had been made at the Phoenix airport and he was certain Holland and Cummings hadn't casually shot the breeze while hustling Scully out of the terminal.

So when had she overheard it?

~It's just... really noisy here.~

Mulder sat up. There was a pattern to Scully's headaches. In a big city, like Las Vegas or Phoenix, she was nearly incapcitated. But get her away from the city and presto! Headache gone. Mulder reached for his shoes, putting them on and heading for the front door.

It hadn't been noisy in the Flagstaff airport nor had it been noisy in the car when they were in Phoenix yet she had been visibly effected. Maybe it was noise he couldn't hear. Noise that someone like Gibson could. The noise of other people's thoughts.

~I hear you, Mulder.~

Last night. She heard him, she had tried to tell him but he hadn't been listening. Why hadn't she said anything since? Maybe he was wrong.

~One toke over the line....~ Oh god, let me be wrong.

Mulder came out onto the porch and saw Scully about 50 yards away, her back turned to him. His long legs carried him quickly over the distance between them, stopping when he was only a few feet away.

You hear me, don't you?

He didn't say the words aloud, but her shoulders still dropped in a sigh before she quietly answered.

"Yes."

Even though Mulder had been certain what Scully's answer would be, he was still stunned.

How did it happen? Gibson? How had he done it? Could it be replicated? How long had she been able to read minds? Amid all his questions of how and why, Mulder couldn't shake his underlying feeling of glee. A telepathic partner, while certainly not admissible in court, was bound to come in handy. There was also the smallest sense of jealousy. Why Scully for crying out loud? Why pick the skeptic over the believer?

Mulder stepped closer, so that he was standing beside her. Scully had her arms folded across her chest as she looked off into the distance.

Mulder cleared his throat. "Are you going to make me ask? Hell, Scully, you know what I'm thinking. Pick a question and answer it."

She said nothing for a moment, closing her eyes as the breeze picked up, setting her hair in motion around her face. When she spoke her voice was quiet, Mulder had to lean closer to hear her. "I don't know how he did it. He touched me, right over the implant, and I blacked out. When I came to I could hear him. Him and everyone else at the motel." Scully gave a small sigh, rocking back on her heels. "I didn't believe it. I still don't, in a way."

She finally looked up at him and he could see the fatigue in her pinched expression. "From what Gibson told me, they had theorized that the chip could be used in such a way, they just had never tested it. He wasn't entirely sure it would work." Scully looked down again as she finished speaking.

"Who was more surprised when it did?"

Scully almost smiled. "I would have to say I was."

"So what was his plan after he did this? Were you two going to hit the road as some kind of psychic sideshow?"

"No. I was only hiding Gibson until his mother could get there. I think this was his way of repaying me, us, for helping him."

Mulder was silent as he considered what she had told him. If the chip could be activated, and BCTR knew this, would they put two and two together and realize that Gibson may have given Scully the ability? Was that why Holland and Cummings had tried to take her? He remembered what she had said the night before, about not being able to hear Holland. At the time he had thought she was feverish, but now it seemed likely that they knew. Why else would they have been so insistent on taking her from the airport?

"They only wanted to question me about Gibson. I don't think they knew what Gibson had done to me until I got off the plane. Actually, I think only Holland knew. It was so strange, Mulder, I could hear everyone else, but not him. It was like his mind was turned off, when I tried to hear him, I came up blank." Scully dug at a rock with the toe of her shoe.

Mind reading. Mulder nearly laughed aloud, taken aback all over again that she could actually *hear* him. That was how she had known when she got off the plane that Holland and Cummings weren't who they claimed to be. Had Riley been in on it, too? Diana?

"They all were," Scully's voice was almost apologetic.

Diana too. ~I think you know what I think that woman is....~ Now would be a good time for the "I told you so's".

Scully shook her head and looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

Mulder shrugged and looked away. ~You've got to trust me, Fox .~ It had been so refreshing not to be paranoid, to be able to accept someone at face value. Mulder grimaced inwardly as he realized just how close Diana had come to damaging he and Scully's partnership beyond repair. He needed to think - by himself.

"Forget it." He spoke the words softly and started to turn back to the house. "Hey, Scully, what's your range?"

"My range?" she questioned even as his intent became clear.

"Yeah, how far away do I have to be before you can't hear me?"

His need for privacy, for licking his wounds away from her, was apparent. He wouldn't even look at her as he waited for her answer.

"It depends. Most people I can only hear if they're close to me, within 50 feet. You, I can hear from further away. I heard you from about half a mile away at the Grand Canyon."

Mulder nodded curtly. "If you need me, I'll be at least a half mile away for a little while." He barked a laugh and shrugged. "Well, you understand." Mulder turned and jogged off. Scully waited, concentrating on her own thoughts, as his grew more distant. Once she couldn't hear him anymore she turned and started for the house.

When Mulder returned to Vernon's house it was dark outside. Vernon was in his computer room, hunched over the keyboard. He looked up as Mulder passed by, but only offered him a nod. Mulder moved further back into the house, entering the makeshift room Vernon had provided for them.

Scully was curled up on one of the room's cots, her back to him. Anger surged through him anew. On his walk he had done some thinking, away from her prying mind. Was it possible that Gibson was in on it too? What if Diana had been telling the truth? Perhaps they had given Scully the ability simply to keep him in line? And to enable her to spy on him more effectively.

Mulder chewed on his lower lip for a minute as he considered. It wouldn't matter where he went, Scully and the Consortium would find him. There was really only one way to be free of Them.

The safety on his gun made a soft 'snick' as it was slid off. Scully rolled over but didn't awaken. Mulder was proud of the fact that his hands were steady as he walked closer to Scully. Close enough that the gun was mere millimeters from the soft rise and fall of her chest.

A moment's hesitation.

Mulder closed his eyes as his finger tightened on the trigger, missing the flashes of light from the three rapid-fire shots.

Scully sat up, sweating and shaking, kicking her legs loose of the scratchy wool blanket tangled around them. Across the room Mulder was asleep, snoring softly.

Scully took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Outside the wind was howling and she could feel the chill creeping in through the window's casements. She felt lost and agitated. Panic rose like bile to sting her throat. It wasn't just the dream, it was the sensation of feeling something waiting out in the darkness. She could feel it sliding along the edges of her consciousness and she wondered if it was Holland that she felt, stealthily approaching, moving in for the kill. Was going to BCTR a good idea or was it suicide?

Unconsciously her hand moved to touch the back of her neck. How many secrets did the chip hold? Pendrell had said it was able to store experiences, neural memories. Did it transmit and receive them as well? Did they already know her every move, her every emotion? But how could such a tiny chip pick up the inner thoughts of people? It made no sense.

Was Gibson one of many created by BCTR or had he been a fluke? Perhaps they had not realized his potential until years later. Was he safe now? Scully closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that Gibson and his mother were safe and that they remained so.

Chilled, she laid back down on her side, pulling the blanket up to her ears and shifting carefully on the cot to bring her knees up to her chest. Dread, heavy and dull, sank deeper into her with the chill from the wind outside. What was she going to do now? She was a fugitive, wanted for a crime she hadn't actually committed but with no means to prove otherwise.

"Scully?"

She raised her head to see Mulder still asleep and she realized that he was talking to her in his dream. Closing her eyes she saw herself, a flickering image like a scratchy home movie. She was sitting in a car, her head turned to watch the fast-moving landscape outside the window. She made no reply to Mulder in the dream but he seemed content with her silence. Was this a memory or just a blurring of countless car trips in his subconscious?

Then she saw herself turn her face to him and smile. "We can stop at the next town," she said. Mulder made no reply, happy in her company. The road dipped like a roller coaster before them, she had the sensation of rushing down a hill fast. In his dream they both laughed, caught up the moment.

On her cot, Scully smiled as well. She pulled the blanket up higher and relaxed, letting the quiet affection of Mulder's reverie cover her like a second blanket, keeping her warm, lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

Potawatomi Lodge Denison, Kansas

Mulder turned off the t.v. in disgust. There was nothing on. No sports, no looming meteorological disaster on the Weather Channel and he'd quickly flipped past the advertisement on the pay-per-view for "Vicksburg Vixens". Scully had told him earlier that day on a lone stretch of prairie that she was learning to keep other people's thoughts as a kind of background noise. Regardless, there was no way in hell he was watching any kind of porn with her closer than half a mile. Hell, a mile - just to be on the safe side.

Through the thin walls he could hear Scully's t.v., blaring the screeching brakes and sirens of a chase scene. Mulder picked his watch up off the nightstand. 12:30 a.m.

After 18 hours of non-stop traveling he thought she'd be asleep by now. Scully had driven the last shift, and they had mutually agreed that it would be wiser to get a motel for the night than to press on. Neither of them were in any condition to keep driving. Once they had checked in, they had convened in Scully's room and called the Gunmen. Byers had been apologetic as he explained that they were working on hacking into BCTR's system but they had nothing yet.

Next door Scully's t.v. changed channels and Mulder wondered if she was listening to the t.v. in an attempt to block out the other noises around her. There was only one other car parked two doors down from him at the motel and Denison was a small town.

They had kept to backroads since leaving Nevada, partially out of deference to Scully, which was why she had told him that she was learning to block out other people's thoughts. It would certainly save them time to take I-70 rather than two-lane highways. Neither one of them had dared to drive over the speed limit, afraid of getting pulled over. When Mulder had wondered if they couldn't use Scully as a kind of radar detector she silently shook her head.

"I think their range might be better than mine," she had finally spoken with a half-smile.

Mulder shifted restlessly on the bed. He smiled as he realized that he should probably warn Frohike ahead of time that Scully could read his mind. Or would it be more fun to watch Scully try to remain composed? Then again, maybe Byers was really the scary Gunman? He'd be sure to ask Scully what really went on in their heads.

Would she even tell him? She had been extraordinarily vague about what she heard from other people. He knew she felt it was an unfair advantage and he marveled at her sense of fair play. Gibson couldn't have picked a more conscientious clairvoyant if he'd tried. Sometimes, as they had driven along, he would even forget that she could hear him on more than one level.

They had spent the long hours going over the facts they did have, puzzling out the meaning of the "wellspring" and BCTR's connection to the testing they had seen done before. In the back of his mind he had silently dreaded the subject of Diana and what Scully knew of her. But he was ready to hear it now, needed to hear it, in fact.

The phone rang, startling him. His hand flailed to the side, catching the phone before the second ring. The volume on Scully's t.v. went lower as he picked up the phone.

"Mulder? I've got some bad news for you," Frohike said.

"Define 'bad'," Mulder got up off the bed and unlocked the connecting door. Come on over, Scully.

"We found Gibson Praise. We were able to get in BCTR's computer system about half an hour ago. They found him, Mulder. Judging by the security camera footage we were able to download they brought Gibson to the facility earlier this evening."

Scully's worried eyes sought out his own as she sat down on the bed.

"We need to move fast on this," Mulder said and Scully nodded her agreement. There was no way of knowing what BCTR's plan for Gibson were. "Can you guys meet us there? If we leave now we can be there in about 12 hours."

"We'll be there," Frohike assured him.

The rain was beating a staccato rhythm against the roof of the car. The windshield wipers rhythmic noise had long since become a metronome for her thoughts.

Thwap.

They've got Gibson. God, please, don't let them hurt him.

Thwap.

Wellspring. What is the wellspring? Why do they need him so badly? Is Gibson the wellspring?

Thwap.

They wouldn't operate on him a second time, would they? Please let us get there in time.

The rain ended abruptly but it took Scully a few moments to register that the wipers were no longer necessary. Beside her Mulder stirred, blinking a few times and sitting up straighter. "Why don't you pull over at the next stop, let me drive for awhile. You need some sleep."

"Fine," she said, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep. Scully couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled on her since Nevada. The closer they came to West Virginia and BCTR, the tighter the knot in her stomach became.

As she continued driving eastward she could see the faint glow of approaching daylight on the horizon. Anxiety bubbled up, closing off her throat for a moment. It was irrational, but she was certain that Holland was close. He knew where they were going and was allowing them to reach West Virginia.

Would they find Gibson at BCTR? What else would they find? Or rather, what would find them?

US 33 Barbour County, West Virginia

"Heads up, there they are." Frohike nudged Langly as he got out of their van. Mulder made a U-turn, pulling onto the shoulder of the road behind them. Frohike's eyes widened slightly at the sight of them as they wearily exited the car.

Mulder, my man, you look like shit. And Scully doesn't look much better.

The strain of the past few days showed in their slower gait, their rumpled appearance and the dark circles beneath Scully's eyes. Frohike glanced down at his watch - 4:23 p.m. Three more hours until it grew dark, maybe they could convince them to hole up at the motel room he and Langly had rented this morning.

Apparently Langly was thinking along the same lines as he opened the side door on the van. "We've got a room up the road, close to BCTR. Byers is back at the office, working on getting some clearance codes to the research wing. We did bring some employee ID's for you."

"Thanks." Mulder gave them a tired nod, his eyes tracking past Langly to watch with worry as Scully braced her hand against the van, pausing with her head bowed before getting in.

Langly took a step forward, touching her arm lightly. "Agent Scully?"

"I'm..." she started and then shook her head. Langly took the hint and stepped back.

"Headache," Mulder explained as Scully pulled herself up into the van. Frohike and Langly turned to stare at him. "She's got a headache." Mulder brushed past them and climbed into the van, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Not tonight, she's got a headache?" Langly mused.

"Langly, you couldn't get lucky with a bottle of aspirin, let alone the fair Agent Scully."

"And you could?" Langly snickered.

"She loves me. She just doesn't realize it yet." Frohike mumbled as he reached to open the passenger side door. He glanced into the back of the van as he climbed in. Scully was sitting with her head tipped back on the seat, her eyes shut tightly.

Something's wrong here. Something's really wrong. This isn't road fatigue or a headache.

A chill ran up Frohike's spine as he watched Langly walk around the front of the van to get in, bringing to his mind an adage he'd learned in childhood.

Feels like someone just walked over my grave....

Barron Centers for Transgenetic Research

"They built a new facility in 1995 but the old research facility is still there," Langly explained as they turned off the highway, passing the sign that read "B.C.T.R. - Hope For The Future". Evenly spaced streetlights illuminated a beautifully landscaped park with a man-made lake.

"Security is, needless to say, still very tight on the old building. We have ID's for you but they won't work on the outside doors. We got you security clearance inside but we couldn't hack the outside code." Frohike added.

The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few cars were parked close to the glass and steel new building. Langly drove through the parking lot, switching onto a smaller road that took them to a large Warehouse. A tall red brick building was situated behind it.

"This is it, kids." Frohike turned to look at them, they didn't look much better than they had earlier that afternoon. A shower, a change of clothes, a few hours of sleep - none of these had erased the fatigue etched into them both. Especially Scully.

Maybe she sensed his gaze, for she turned and gave Frohike a small smile. "I'm okay, really. I'm just worried about Gibson."

"I hope you're up to a climb," Frohike smiled back. "Byers said he could get the windows on the third floor of the old facility disarmed. We'll be waiting right here for you."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look before Mulder glanced back over at Frohike. "Let's do it," he said.

The smell of oil and cresote hung heavy in the air of the Warehouse. Mulder fought a wave of nausea, the odor bringing back unpleasant memories for him of the time spent in Tunguska. He could almost feel the rough wood beneath his skin. The fear and frustration as he fought against the mesh holding him down. The panic as he listened to the terrified cries of the men around him. His skin crawled just remembering the sickening sensation of the black fluid invading him.

Scully's fingers brushed over his wrist and he glanced down to see her watching him closely.

Mulder shook his head. Let's just find Gibson, okay?

Scully gave an affirmative nod, closing her eyes for a moment as she concentrated.

Gibson?

Nothing. She could hear Mulder. Frohike and Langly out in the van. A couple of distant voices from the building. There didn't appear to be anyone in the Warehouse.

"We're okay in here. There's no one close."

They turned on their flashlights, shining them along the sides of the building. No crates were helpfully stacked against the walls.

"There," Scully pointed with her flashlight to a foreman's office in the corner. A steel ladder atop the office led up to the girders supporting the building's ceiling. A cat walk extended the length of the Warehouse.

A forklift was parked next to the office, they climbed onto the cab of it and stepped over to the roof and started going up the ladder towards the cat walk.

Looks like there's an air vent at the far end. I think we can get outside that way. I gotta tell you, Scully, telepathy sure comes in handy on a break-in.

Scully nudged him with her elbow to get him started down the cat walk.

Just wish it went both ways. For all I know you're planning to push me off.

"And you said you couldn't hear me," Scully whispered.

You should know, I actually have x-ray vision. We're like the Wonder Twins, huh?

When they reached the vent panel and Mulder gave it an experimental tug. Nothing happened.

"Well, come on, Superman. Can't you bend steel with your bare hands?"

Damn. "Only on Tuesdays. Today's, what? Friday? On Friday's I'm as mortal as the next guy."

"So use the door," Scully swung her flashlight to show him the service door.

"Smartass. When we find Gibson I'm going to ask him what you're really thinking. Then the tables will be turned."

Stepping out onto the roof, they picked their way carefully to where the corner of the Warehouse met up with the old research facility. As promised, there was an open window.

They had started on the sixth floor of the building, slowly working their way down but they had encountered only vacant dusty rooms and a few storage boxes. On the fourth floor Scully stopped abruptly, touching Mulder's arm to still him.

"Wait." Scully closed her eyes to concentrate.

... can you hear me? Agent Scully?

Gibson?

You have to leave. They aren't going to hurt me. They don't dare. They know you're here, he can hear you.

Who can? Gibson, tell me where you are.

If you come in here, they'll know. They can track you.

With the chip?

Yes.

Gibson, tell me where you are....

"We have to split up," Scully said, looking up at Mulder. "Gibson's on the second floor, room 226. The code to his door is 51076."

"Where are you going?"

"Out a different way. I'll see you back at the van. Hurry."

Once upon a time, Scully recited to herself in an attempt to keep her thoughts distracted and buy Mulder some time. There was a little girl who lived in the woods with her father...

Mulder raced down the stairs, opening the second floor door a tiny crack. No one out there. He stepped into the hall, the room opposite him was 212. Turning left the next number was 214, on the opposite side of the hall it was 215. Mulder started jogging, counting off the doors as he moved further down the hall. 220, 222, 224, 226.

It was a gray metal door, no window, but there was a keypad to the side.

5-1-0-7-6.

A shrill beep that made him look both ways before he turned the handle on the door.

And there he was, the answer to all that was in the X-Files, sitting primly on his bed, his childish face at odds with his confident mien.

"Hello," Gibson said.

The basement. Is it instinct now that I just naturally head for the basement?

Scully took a deep breath and listened carefully, she could hear Mulder and Gibson carefully picking their way out of the building. But there was something else - that same strange unsettling feeling of being followed.

By who? Holland, the man at the airport? Was he here, waiting for her somewhere in the shadows? Scully turned, heading back through the building's power plant towards the stairs.

The hum of the generators matched the soundless buzzing now radiating along Scully's skin. Holland was close, she was sure of it. She couldn't hear Gibson and Mulder any longer, couldn't hear anyone. Alone in her head for the first time in days she felt eerily empty. Her own thoughts seemed to echo loudly in her ears.

There was a scraping noise behind her and she whirled, wishing she had more than a fake ID and a flashlight to confront someone with.

There was no one there.

She felt a twinge at the back of neck, her hand moving automatically to the tiny scar that held so many secrets. A wave of heat washed over her causing her to flush, her heart rate nearly doubling.

"Scully?"

She turned again at the sound of Mulder's voice.

How did he get here so fast?

"Scully? Are you in here?"

The humming inside her grew stronger, sending out vibrations that made her arms shake and her legs feel suddenly too achy to support her. She dropped the flashlight and leaned against the generator closest to her. The metal panel felt cool against her forehead.

"Scully?" Mulder had turned the corner and was walking towards her now. Nausea clenched her stomach into a knot, she looked up to see Mulder standing above her.

No. Not Mulder. Mulder was with Gibson, wasn't he? Oh God. Don't think about it, he can hear you. It's Holland.

"Where is he taking the boy?" Not Mulder asked.

A hotel room late at night. ~Tell me where he is.~

"I know you..." she said.

~I don't know what you're talking about...~ Every word had been an effort as she fought for air. There had been an unexpected lurch as she became airborne and then the sickening crunch of glass meeting flesh. She had been dazed, that was the only explanation for what happened next. Mulder had changed - morphed before her very eyes into another man.

"Get up," Not Mulder said coldly, gesturing for her to rise.

Can't. I can't move. Gibson, can you hear me? Get out of here. Tell Mulder to take you as far away from here as you can get. Leave. Please god, just let them leave.

Not Mulder reached down, his hand grabbing her upper arm to pull her upright. Scully sucked in a breath at the contact. It was like an electrocution, cold heat raced through her, numbing her limbs.

Just like at the airport, but it's worse now. It hurts, it hurts. Why would it be worse? Is it continued exposure? Is it something here at BCTR?

As Scully was yanked her to her feet she let out an involuntary yelp, stumbling forward on paralyzed legs.

Get.... oh god, make it stop. Mulder, get Gibson away from here...

Pain. She had never felt so much pain.

I'm dying, she thought distantly. When they do my post-mortem will they find a scorched network of cells in the place of my central nervous system?

Her mind conjured up the image of herself arguing with Mulder over her own autopsy results. Mulder that's impossible. You don't really expect me to believe that he killed me simply by touching me?

You tell me, Scully. Is it possible? Would it kill you just once to admit that I was right?

It did, Mulder. It did kill me. I'm so sorry, Mulder... I should have told you, just once, how much you meant to me. God, this hurts, make it stop. Make it stop, Mulder. Mulder. ~I owe you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing.~ You're right - it wouldn't hurt me to admit you were right. You were right about so many things, Mulder. Make it stop, please, make it go away. I can't explain any of it but you were right. Get Gibson away from here. Make it stop hurting. Mulder, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I won't get to argue with you anymore. I won't get to...

The Not Mulder continued walking, pulling Scully's unresisting body after him.

Barron Centers for Transgenetic Research West Virginia

"He's a tough little kid," Frohike commented with admiration as Mulder and Gibson came running around the corner of the Warehouse. "Smaller than he looks in his pictures."

"Wise beyond his years," Langly pronounced.

"Where's Scully?" Frohike wondered aloud as Mulder and Gibson reached the van.

Gibson was panting from the run, his words coming out in gasps. "She's... still... inside. She's... coming... out."

Mulder looked at Gibson and then back at the building. A minute passed with no Scully.

Where is she? Before he could speak Gibson put a hand on his arm. "No, she's on her way. If you go back in you'll just complicate things. Give her a few minutes, she'll be here. She's...." Gibson broke off speaking, turning to look at the building thoughtfully.

"What?" Mulder asked.

"There's someone following her. She can't hear him but I can."

"Who's following her? Holland?" she asked she couldn't hear him before. Why can't she hear him? Why can you, Gibson?

Gibson moved quickly, standing in front of Mulder just as he was about to start back towards the building.

"Wait, you can't go back in there."

"Why not?"

"You'll make things worse. He'll kill you."

"Who?" Is he going to kill Scully? "Who's following her? What's going on?"

Gibson's face grimaced. "She says to leave. Right now."

"Without her? Why?"

Gibson looked up at Mulder. "She's not coming."

Not coming? No. "What's happened?"

Gibson looked past Mulder to the building. "She's hurt, I think. There's a lot of noise, I can't hear her very well."

Hurt? Hurt how? "Help me, Gibson. Where is she?"

"She wants us to leave." Gibson turned to look at the main building. "They'll be here soon. He's taking her to the Smoking Man. She's right, we have to leave now."

I can't just leave her here.

"Who will be here? Tell me where she is." Mulder bent down so that his face was even with Gibson's.

Gibson frowned. "He's, uh, he's taking her outside, there's a car on the other side of the Warehouse waiting for them. There's another man like him inside."

Mulder lifted Gibson into the van. "Get him out of here. Don't go back to the motel, take him somewhere else. I'll contact you when I can." As Mulder went to shut the door Gibson put up his hand to stop him.

"You won't make it to her in time. You should just get in with us and we can follow them. They don't want me, they want her. If you get in the way they will kill you."

Mulder hesitated and then climbed into the van, slamming the door shut in frustration. A few seconds later a car came around the side of the building, gaining speed rapidly as it passed them.

"Go!" Mulder hardly needed to say the words as Langly gunned the engine to follow.

"What's she thinking now, Gibson?" Is she ok?

"She's not."

She's not? She's not thinking? God, no...

The van pitched sharply to the right as Langly tried to maneuver a corner. Far ahead Mulder could see the tail lights of the car with Scully turning onto the main road.

Damn, damn, damn! We're losing them. Gibson, where are they going?

By the time Langly reached the main road they were gone.

"Damn," Frohike said softly.

"Why do they want her, Gibson?"

"To continue the tests. I tried to tell her that it was a setup. That's why she had you guys split up. She was trying to buy you enough time to get to me."

Scully.

"What tests, Gibson? Where are they taking her?"

"To the train yard."

"I'm on it," Langly said as he turned left. "We passed the yard last night on our way down from D.C."

"Gibson, why couldn't she hear him?" Mulder asked. "The man you said was following her, why couldn't Scully hear him and you can?"

"He's an alien. She can't hear them."

"Why can you?"

Gibson shrugged. "I only turned on the chip, I didn't activate her DNA. That's what they want to do."

"Activate it how? To make her like you?"

"No, to make her like the other lady. The one who died."

Other lady? Cassandra. My god. Mulder closed his eyes as he remembered Cassandra, whole and healthy, after she had been found in an incinerated boxcar. ~Whatever it is they did to me.... and to you, Dana. Mulder, I was taken to one of those train cars. I was tested, just like Cassandra....~

"She said you were right."

Mulder looked down at Gibson in confusion. "Who did? Scully? About what? What was I right about?"

Gibson furrowed his brow, considering. "I don't know. I thought you might. She was thinking about you arguing with her and she was admitting you were right. She was kinda confused, he hurt her really bad." Mulder's stomach lurched. "She was sorry she wouldn't get to argue with you anymore."

~He hurt her really bad. What's she thinking now? She's not. Hurt her really bad. Hurt her really bad. She was sorry she wouldn't get to argue with you anymore. To make her like the other lady. She's not thinking. Hurt her really bad, really bad. Scully? Can you hear me? Hang on. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather argue with. She was admitting you were right. To make her like the other lady. The one who died. The other lady....~

Boxcar 592912 West Virginia

Scully awoke to a blinding light. She shut her eyes tightly, turning her head to avoid it.

"You're awake, how unfortunate."

I know that voice.

She heard a match striking up, there was the sweet stench of tobacco and she was certain she knew that voice. Scully opened her eyes to check.

"What..." she started before her throat closed off. She swallowed to try and work her voice loose.

His smile was almost fatherly. "How are you feeling?"

Scully said nothing. CGB Spender. Cigarette Smoking Man, whoever the hell you are, why am I here? Why can't I move? Why is it so quiet?

"I'm told you were made quite uncomfortable by the deactivation of the chip. I'm afraid my man wasn't as gentle as young Mr. Praise was."

Scully attempted to sit up but was brought short by the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Shit. She was on an operating table, looking around she realized she had seen this layout before. Once before in a boxcar in West Virginia and again when Cassandra had been found. Fear shot through her but she refused to give him the satisfaction of squirming.

There was a rattling sound and another man stepped into view, pushing a surgical cart before him. He was wearing surgical scrubs, a face mask hanging loosely against his neck.

God, no....

Scully tried again to lift her hands, but the restraints were pulled tight. Her arms shook and a wave of nausea rolled over her. Her legs still felt numb from whatever had happened when the Not Mulder touched her. How long have I been unconscious? Did Mulder and Gibson make it out?

CGB stepped aside so the other man could beginning setting up the surgical trays. Scully lost sight of the technician as he ducked down to check something beneath the cart.

"Ask me, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. It will never go beyond this room." He smiled again, pride evident in his features.

Scully took a deep breath, ignoring the implication of his words. "Why Gibson?" Her voice felt scratchy, unused.

CGB raised his eyebrows, surprised at her question. "We needed the DNA, all our samples, all our work, it was all destroyed by the rebels."

"They took the wellspring."

"Very good, Agent Scully. You were always a quick study."

"What is the wellspring?"

The technician stood back up, uncapping a small gauge needle with a clear substance inside.

"Perhaps I was too quick in complimenting you. You know what the wellspring is. You've held it in your hands. You traded it once, for Agent Mulder's life."

~The wellspring, Miss Scully. The original tissue....~ She remembered Deep Throat's anxiety for Mulder, the trip to Fort Marlene to obtain the alien fetus. She had thought it a fake, a hoax more on the same level as a Fiji mermaid. Not something worth killing over.

"The wellspring is the source of all the DNA we've used in our experiments, we paid a heavy price for it. In all the hybrids we've created, we have never met with the same success as we did with the Praise boy. His genes were a match for the wellspring's. When he was born we never realized his potential."

The second man took an alcohol pad and cleaned a small patch on the inside of her right arm. Scully curled her fingers closed but her hand shook anyway.

"Gibson is a hybrid?"

"No, Gibson is the same as you or I in many respects. He was a test tube baby, conceived with entirely human ova and sperm. I believe the dear departed Dr. Openshaw activated genes in Gibson that are present in alien DNA, but dormant in the rest of us. We can't quite figure out how he did it. The boy's parents left the country. We let them go, we had bigger problems. More pressing issues to attend to. Until we discovered his little 'gift'. Then it became quite important to find the boy, make him an ally. Or destroy him."

Scully tried not to flinch as she felt the prick of a needle in her arm.

"Alas, the boy has been difficult to reason with. It no longer matters. We need our resources elsewhere. We are now in a race against the resistance. Perhaps we chose unwisely, siding with the colonists instead of the rebels."

He drew in a deep lung full of smoke and slowly exhaled it, flicking his cigarette to loosen a small puff of ash. "It is too late in the game to change sides. We must have another successful hybrid, another Cassandra or all our plans are ruined."

"Why Cassandra? Why pick your ex-wife for your tests? Was that some sort of revenge?"

CGB gave a small grimace. "Revenge was never a factor. Cassandra was best suited, genetically, to our end goal. As are you, Agent Scully."

"How do you know that? From the tests you did the first time I was abducted?"

"We knew long before then. You were only taken to keep Mulder in line. It was serendipity that taking you furthered our other aims."

"How could you know? What is your criteria?"

"We've collected genetic samples on nearly everyone. You saw our storehouse once, right here in West Virginia."

~Lots and lots of files.~

"We would collect the data coincident with the smallpox vaccination. Those whose genetic material was close to the criteria set by men like Openshaw, Zama and Klemper were catalogued."

"Given a chip, you mean."

"Last year the rebels began destroying our carefully selected group, in an attempt to ruin our efforts to create the human/alien hybrid that would signal the beginning of colonization."

"Why an alien/human hybrid?"

"To serve as slaves to the new colonists. Anyone who wasn't hybridized would be used as a host, like the researcher you saw in Arizona. Indeed, you yourself were infected with the virus last year. We have developed a weak vaccine against the effects of the aliens' life force. If not for our efforts you wouldn't be here today."

Cassandra's desperate appeal came back to her. ~A black substance called 'purity'. Their life force.~

"Purity."

CGB's smile was genuine. "Precisely. Purity control was our stroke of genius, a vaccine against the alien virus. With it, we could save the world. But the rebels have forced our hand, we're hoping by offering a hybrid human, we can strike a bargain with the colonists."

Scully's eyes felt heavy, the sedation was beginning to take effect. He shouldn't be smoking in here, Scully thought as she blinked her eyes, trying to get them to open wider in an attempt to stay awake.

"When we learned that Gibson had successfully activated your chip we realized that you were a better candidate than Dr. Zama had thought. Gibson became superfluous, it was you we needed."

"But you said you turned off the chip, why?"

"Sometimes, Agent Scully, knowledge is a tricky thing." CGB took a final drag, stubbing the cigarette out in the sink. "Who knows? Someday you may thank me for this."

"Shit!" Langly swore again, this time not bothering to apologize to Gibson. "I swear it looked like you could drive right to it in the daylight."

"How close are we?" Mulder asked, feeling a rising panic. It was like Sky Mountain all over again. He couldn't live with arriving a few minutes too late this time.

Gibson tilted his head, listening to the distance. "They're pretty faint." His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. "I think they're getting ready to leave."

Damn, damn, damn. Is that half a mile then, Gibson? Is your range the same as Scully's?

The van took a sharp corner, thudding heavily over some railroad tracks, and Mulder came up with another plan.

"Stop the van!" Mulder was already opening the door. "Which way guys? Which way is the yard?" The van slowed to a crawl and Mulder hopped out, switching on his flashlight. Frohike gestured to his left.

"That way, it's that way. We just need to find the right road...."

"Keep driving then, see if you can find the yard and I'll meet you there. I'm going up the tracks." Mulder set off up the tracks, hoping that the train was going to be coming this way.

After a few minutes he began to doubt the wisdom in striking off on his own, even with the flashlight it was difficult to keep his footing on the uneven tracks. Casting the light around Mulder hoped for a road running parallel to the tracks, but there was none to be found. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he jogged along, wishing he could go faster.

It seemed like hours before he heard the distant whistle of a train. Mulder paused, straining his ears and eyes down the track but he was unable to tell how far the train was or if it was even headed towards him. He set off again, pushing the pace a little faster.

Can't let it happen again. Can't let it happen again. Can't let it happen again.

The train's whistle sounded again, this time it was definitely closer. There was a trestle bridge up ahead and Mulder stopped. Should he wait here or catch the train on the other side of the bridge? He could hear a rumble up ahead, feel the track begin to vibrate beneath his feet.

But what if it wasn't her train?

He'd have to take that chance. Mulder switched off the flashlight and backed up from the track a few feet to wait. On the other side of the bridge a train came from around a hill, chugging along at a slow pace.

At least he wouldn't have to run hard to catch it.

Mulder waited as three engines growled slowly past followed by oil tankers, coal cars, carrier cars but nothing like the specialized boxcar he was expecting. As the train kept moving past, gradually picking up speed, Mulder began to despair.

This isn't her train. I'll never find her. He saw Duane Barry once more, his arms lifted to the heavens in jubilation. ~Where is she? They took her....~

The cars squealed and hissed, creaking on the rails as they moved past. He could see the darkened outline of the last car on the train coming across the bridge. It looked like... it was. The boxcar dimly reflected the moonlight as it trundled towards him. Mulder came closer to the track, reaching out to grab the railing on the final car. He jogged alongside for a few strides and then swung up on the back of the train.

Mulder pushed against the back door but it didn't budge. The window was dark. Covered from the inside? He couldn't tell. Mulder climbed up the ladder to the right of the door, picking his way carefully across the roof of the boxcar to come down on the opposite side. Light was coming through the window on this end and he could see a man in surgical scrubs moving around inside. The train lurched and he saw the corner of a table when the curtain hiding it swayed. There was someone lying on the table, their bare toes visible to his view.

Mulder tried the door. This time it came open, allowing him into the small anteroom. Mulder twisted the handle to the second door but it wouldn't open. Cursing under his breath he called to Scully in his mind. Scully! Can you hear me? Scully? Dammit, please hear me. ~He hurt her really bad. What's she thinking now? She's not.~

Mulder slipped back outside, looking at the connection to the train. Lying down on his stomach he reached forward until he could grasp the lever connecting the boxcar to the rest of the train. A twist, a grinding noise and the car slid free. For a few moments the car continued to follow after the train before it slowed and stopped. Mulder returned to the anteroom, flattening himself next to the inner door, gun at the ready.

~Hurt her really bad.~

There was a shuffling sound inside and the door began to swing open. Mulder tensed, hoping and praying that the man he had seen inside was the only person there. The man leaned his head outside and was greeted by the muzzle of Mulder's gun.

"Back inside. Now. Hands where I can see them."

The man obediently raised his hands, stepping backwards into the car. Mulder followed him in and then gestured to the wall. "Over there, put your face against the wall, hands above your head."

The man did so and Mulder patted him down swiftly, finding no weapon. Keeping his gun trained on the man Mulder stepped backwards, towards the curtained area. "Where is this train going? What were you going to do with her?"

The man didn't answer, keeping his face to the wall. Mulder pulled aside the curtain, relief and fear circling through him. It was Scully but she was unconscious, an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. She was clad in a hospital gown and he could see that her arms and legs were bound to the table. He pulled on the first strap, loosening the Velcro as he called again to the man. "What were you going to do with her?"

This time when the man didn't answer Mulder felt something snap. Rage, thick and primal, surged up in him. Damn them. Damn them all to hell. What gave them the right to step in and take her anytime they felt like it? What gave them the right to test on her? To treat her like a lab rat? To casually discard her when she no longer suited their purposes?

Mulder rushed over, pushing the man hard against the wall, his gun at the base of his neck. "I asked you a question, goddammit -answer me! What were you going to do with her?" Mulder hit the man's head against the wall again.

"Nothing," the man groaned, blood streaming from his nose. "I wasn't going to do anything with her. I was just supposed to keep her quiet until we got there."

"Got where?"

"I don't know. They don't tell me stuff like that."

"Bullshit!" Mulder shoved his head into the wall again. "Where is he?"

"Who?" the man gasped, pulling away from Mulder and wiped shakily at his nose. Mulder stepped back, keeping his gun trained on the man warily.

"Your boss, Old Smokey. I can smell the cigarettes, I know he was here. Where is he?"

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, tilting his head back as he answered. "He got off before the train left. I don't know where he went."

Mulder's free hand slid across his waist, searching for his handcuffs. They were gone and he remembered cuffing Holland to the truck. His eyes darted around, catching sight of the boxcar's lavatory.

"In there," Mulder gestured with the gun. "Go."

The man complied, walking into the small washroom. Mulder shut the door behind him and then looked around for something to slide through the handle to lock it. He could see nothing. He took the strap that had held down Scully's wrist and fed it through the bathroom's handle and the grip next to it, cinching it tightly. Mulder pulled on the door to test the strap, it didn't budge. He tucked his gun back into its holster.

"What if another train comes?" the man called through the door. "What then?"

"I'll tell them you're here when I get back to the train yard," Mulled yelled as he raced back over to Scully. He pulled the oxygen mask gingerly off and watched anxiously. She appeared to be breathing fine on her own. Relieved, Mulder unfastened the other restraints and pulled her to a sitting position. Her head lolled backwards and she made no voluntary movement to help him.

~Hurt her really bad.~

"Scully?" he touched her cheek but she didn't move. "Come on, Scully. Let's get you out of here." Mulder lifted her off the table.

"Hey! You still out there?" the man called from inside the washroom. Mulder ignored him. There was a thudding sound from inside but the door held. "You can't just leave me here! Hey!"

Mulder stepped outside, wincing as he jumped to the ground, but Scully didn't stir. Taking a deep breath and hefting her a little higher, he started back down the track.

Wake up, Scully. ~Hurt her really bad.~ Please wake up.

At first Scully was aware only of the swaying motion. As she tried to concentrate she became aware of footsteps, certain and steady. Her eyelids fluttered but she couldn't open them. She became conscious of the sound of labored breathing and she realized she was being carried. Against her left arm she could feel the warm damp press of the man's body. She could hear cicadas chirping, feel the cool night air against her bare legs. Opening her eyes, Scully could see the darkened features of a man's face. He looked like Mulder. Oh god, was this another one of those dreams? How would he kill her this time?

Scully flexed her toes and her entire body screamed in protest. Pain. It still hurt. She saw again the Not Mulder watching her with dead eyes as she crumpled before him. Then she woke up, didn't she? The Smoking Man. That's right. He was there too. They were going to do something with her. What was it? Panic flooded through her as she recalled what had happened. She wasn't just going to sit by and let them take her again. Not this time.

Pushing hard against the Not Mulder, she succeeded in startling him enough that he let her legs drop. Her feet screamed in protest as they met with the gravel beneath them but adrenaline pushed her past the pain to twist away from him.

"Scully?"

Damn, he sounded so much like Mulder. It wasn't fair. She remembered her dream, the bitterness in Mulder's eyes when he had pulled the trigger. It hadn't been Mulder at all, it had been this man her subconscious was warning her about.

Scully swung her arm, but before she could connect with his jaw his hand grabbed her wrist, holding her in place.

"No!" she cried out, twisting ineffectually against him. Her entire body was shaking at the exertion, at least this time it didn't seem to hurt as badly when he touched her.

"Scully. Scully it's me."

~Scully, what are you doing? It's me.~ She'd heard those words before, just before she'd been sent flying against the wall.

"Scully, stop. Hey, it's me. Can't you hear me?"

~Hear me?~ Those words sunk in and she looked up, wishing it weren't so dark she couldn't see his eyes. The Not Mulder would know that she couldn't hear him. But Mulder... Mulder wouldn't.

"Mulder?"

"Yes. It's me. It's okay." The hands holding her wrists loosened and she felt her legs give out. The adrenaline was gone, replaced by exhaustion.

"Hey," he caught her around the waist, holding her steady against him as she fought the sudden overwhelming urge to cry. It was really Mulder. "Scully?"

"I can't hear you anymore," she told him, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I thought you were someone else."

"Here, come on, let's move over here. Let's sit down for a minute, you're shaking."

"No, I'm all right." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Where were you taking me?"

"Back to the train yard, Frohike and Langly are waiting for us there."

"What about Gibson?"

"Him too. Come on Scully, sit down."

Scully was about to argue, but her legs gave her away, buckling beneath her again. It's just from the anesthesia, she thought. It's not permanent.

"Mulder, where are my shoes?" she asked as she picked her way carefully to the side of the track.

"I don't know. This is how I found you. Sorry, I didn't think to look for shoes. Here," he took her arm to guide her down the embankment. They both turned and sat against the hill at the bottom.

"So you really can't hear me anymore?" The disappointment was evident in his voice.

"No," she turned to face him, barely seeing him in the scant moonlight. "There was a man, he looked like you, but I think it was Holland again. He reversed it somehow."

Mulder let out a sigh, wondering if Gibson could reactivate it. He doubted Scully would even want him to. And who was to say that all this activation/deactivation wouldn't ruin the chip? It wasn't worth the risk.

"How far is it? To the train yard?" Scully asked.

Mulder shrugged. "I don't know. We can't be too far away, the train was still moving pretty slow when I caught it. We've probably come at least a mile since we left the boxcar."

Scully was silent so Mulder kept talking. "I think Gibson's range was better than yours."

Scully smiled despite herself. "Well, that would make sense, he'd lived with it a lot longer than I did."

"Are you sorry it's gone?"

"No. It wasn't as much fun as you think it was."

"Because of the headaches?" Mulder asked.

"Because of what you hear. Most people really aren't thinking anything special, Mulder. It was really just noise pollution that no earplugs in the world could fix."

"Admit it, Scully. You enjoyed it."

She was silent for a long moment and then she cleared her throat. "It had its moments."

"Like what?" Mulder pressed, curious to see what she'd say.

Scully smiled widely. "Mulder, I don't have to read your mind to know what you're getting at. Let me just reassure you that being inside your mind was every bit as frightening as I ever might have imagined it would be."

Mulder laughed. "So you haven't lost all respect for me?" And then he winced, realizing that for a time he had nearly lost respect for her. What was worse, she knew it.

Scully shook her head, her hand reaching out to touch his. "There have been many times over the years when I've questioned what you were thinking. I have to admit that even being able to hear you, I still wondered."

Mulder touched her cheek, willing her to hear his heart as he spoke. "I am so sorry I doubted you, Scully. You know that much, right?"

Just as it had last summer in his hallway, Mulder's intensity brought tears to her eyes. Scully took a deep breath. "I know it," she whispered. "I know how you feel."

~One toke over the line, sweet Jesus....~

Mulder dropped his hand, fighting the urge to pull her close. Not here. Not like this.

Scully looked away, grateful for the darkness as she flushed. Her stomach tightened as she remembered with clarity the sensation of Mulder's strong arms cradling her as he carried her down the tracks only minutes earlier. She remembered his feelings back at the KOA, his concern for her. At that moment she wished she could have read his mind, even as she was certain what he was thinking already.

"We should get going," she said, her voice faltering.

"Yes," Mulder stood, offering her his hand to help her up. Scully took it, feeling little arcs of pleasure shoot up her arm at the contact. She released his hand as soon as she was standing but the tingle remained.

They set off down the tracks again, Scully taking care to only step on the trestles. Occasionally Mulder would gently tap on her arm to guide her or move in front of her to kick a rock off the tracks. Tired from the night, with her feet aching and her legs still shaky from the anesthesia and Holland's touch, she didn't protest.

As they came in sight of the train yard Scully reached behind to check the back of her hospital gown. No sense in giving Frohike more fuel for the fantasy - even if she was still wearing underwear. She could have sworn Mulder's eyes twinkled when he caught the gesture.

"A little late for modesty, isn't it, Scully?" he teased, knowing full well why she was suddenly self-conscious.

Scully wisely ignored him

"Mulder! Over here!" Langly's voice came from across the yard and they turned in that direction. When they reached the van it seemed to Scully that it had been an eternity since she had last seen it. After climbing inside she sank wearily onto the seat.

"How is she?" Langly asked quietly before Mulder got in the van.

"She's okay," Mulder assured him.

"Where's Gibson?" Scully called from inside. Mulder paused, turning to see Langly shuffling his feet.

"He, ah, Frohike went after him. When we got here I went to the control tower to see when the train left, if it was possible to call them back. On the way back to the van I passed Frohike looking for the kid."

Scully closed her eyes, exhaling a sigh of frustration.

"I'm sure he's fine, his mom probably knew to come to BCTR to find him," Mulder said, trying to reassure himself as well. "Langly, go back and tell them there's a boxcar stopped on the tracks a few miles away. There's a man locked inside who should be arrested for assaulting a federal officer. Tell them not to release him until I have the chance to question him." Langly nodded and ran off for the traffic tower.

As Langly's footsteps faded in the distance Frohike came around the back of the van.

"Mulder, I thought I heard you. Where's Scully?"

"Inside," Mulder nodded towards the van. "Where's Gibson?"

"Gone. One minute he's telling me that you found Scully, the next minute he's muttering something about his mom and he's out the door. I went after him but I couldn't find him."

"Great," Mulder sighed, leaning against the side of the van in defeat. "Just great. Did you see anyone else? Any cars coming or going?"

"No, but maybe he met her at the road."

"I don't necessarily mean his mother, the Smoking Man was here too."

Frohike shook his head. "I didn't see him, man. Sorry. You don't think he found Gibson, do you?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he'd like to. But, believe me, if Gibson doesn't want to be found, nobody is going to find him."

As the van rattled down I-66 towards D.C. Mulder felt himself nodding off to sleep. I'm getting too old to keep making these road trips.

Mulder blinked back to awareness at the sudden weight against his shoulder. Scully's head had slipped sidewise in her sleep, coming to rest against him. Mulder shifted a little and she leaned more heavily against him, nodding in time to the van's sway. Bone tired and lulled by his partner's warmth, Mulder let his head drop so that his cheek rested against Scully's hair. He turned his head slightly and pressed a quick kiss to the crown of her head.

In the front seat Langly glanced in the rear view mirror, smiling at the picture the two presented. He cleared his throat softly and Frohike half-turned to view them. Mulder's eyes opened and he lifted his head.

"Got a camera?" he asked Frohike.

Frohike turned back around. "I'm just glad you two could work it out."

Mulder said nothing, remembering all too well the shock on the faces of the Gunmen after he and Scully had argued over Diana in front of them. Even with all the proof before her, Scully had not said "I told you so."

"Hey, Frohike," Mulder called out softly and Frohike turned his head to show he was listening. "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

"Bullshit." Frohike turned to face forward. "You should always apologize."

I already did. Apology accepted. God, I'm an ass.

Scully snapped awake, lifting her head off Mulder's shoulder. "How close are we?"

"Maybe another forty-five minutes," Mulder replied.

Scully shifted on the seat, missing the warmth of him, but needing to put some distance between them for her own sake as the boundaries between them seemed to be fading fast. A chill ran up her spine and she shivered at the unpleasant sensation of being followed. She looked back, seeing headlights far behind them. Was Holland tracking them? Or was he already at her house, waiting for her to come home?

"You know what, Scully? We're right back where we started. Again," Mulder said softly, watching the darkness roll by outside the van's window.

Scully was silent for a moment. "No. Not right where we started, Mulder. We still have something to follow up on. BCTR. The boxcar and the man inside. We'll find the men responsible, Gibson pointed us in the right direction. Even if they're gone by the time we get there, they can't take away what we know happened. We'll find Gibson again, or he'll find us."

Neither of them spoke, both frightened by the implications if They came looking for Scully again.

Mulder cleared his throat softly. "Look, Scully, just for tonight, I'd feel better if we stayed with the Gunmen. We can call ...."

"No, Mulder," Scully interrupted but he held up his hand to stop her.

"We can call Skinner, see what he can work out to keep us from being arrested. You're tired, Scully. You've had a rough week. You've lost your weapon. You're in no shape to deal with Holland or anyone else who comes calling. Just for tonight. Okay?"

Scully opened her mouth again to protest but realized that Mulder was right.

"Fine. Just for tonight."

"Yes?" Skinner's voice was clipped and for a moment Mulder wavered.

"Sir?"

There was a short pause.

"Are you on a secure line?" Skinner asked.

Mulder looked around the Lone Gunmen's techno-den. "I'm in the Oval Office."

"You're in deep shit, Mulder."

"I do my best work in deep shit, hasn't A.D. Kersh told you?"

Skinner let out a sigh. "Actually I've been wondering when you two would turn up. I assume Agent Scully is with you?"

Mulder glanced over at the bathroom door. "She's under the desk, sir."

"Patricia Praise showed up in the St. Louis office two days ago demanding that the kidnapping charges against Agent Scully be dropped. When I called the Phoenix office about the other allegations lodged against you two I learned that Agent Riley disappeared in a hurry and that there is not an Agent Holland nor an Agent Cummings working out of or in conjunction with their office. They're willing to suspend the charges while they conduct an internal investigation."

"What about Agent Fowley?" Mulder asked.

"Agent Fowley requested and was granted a transfer this morning."

"To where?"

"I wasn't informed."

Mulder said nothing. Once again, no good-bye kiss. Funny how you learn to live without it after all.

"What happened here, Mulder? I've got my hands full trying to convince the powers-that-be that I don't have two loose cannons on my hands now. Frankly, I expect this kind of behavior from you, not from Agent Scully."

"Agent Scully was acting in the best interests of Gibson Praise, sir. She kept him safe until his mother could reach him."

"And Gibson is with his mother now?

"I don't know," Mulder closed his eyes, suddenly weary of the conversation. "We think he's back with his mother. There were some complications, sir. They took Scully a second time and I believe that they will try to do so again."

"Took her? She's with you now, right?"

"Right. But for how long?"

Skinner didn't answer. Mulder rubbed his eyes with his free hand as his exhausted mind turned in frantic circles. ~I believe that they will try to do so again.~

"Get some sleep, Mulder. You sound horrible. I want you two in my office tomorrow morning, bright and early and we'll start working through this mess. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Mulder murmured. Skinner disconnected and Mulder sat, eyes still closed, ignoring the dial tone until the "please hang up message" came on. As the message sounded for the second time, Mulder hung up the phone and then leaned forward, folding his arms on the desk and resting his forehead against them.

He heard the soft sound of her footsteps behind him a moment before the blanket descended on his shoulders. "What did Skinner say?" she asked.

Mulder felt a pang of grief, of love, of gratitude, all rolled into one, at her touch. He kept his head down, biting his lip while he waited for the sensation to pass.

"Mulder?" Scully questioned softly.

"He said to be in his office first thing tomorrow," Mulder's voice was muffled by his arms, but Scully heard the quaver. "You're off the hook, Patricia cleared you of kidnapping. They can't find Holland, Cummings or Riley so Phoenix is dropping the charges until they can figure out what happened."

Mulder sighed into his arms, waiting for her to ask. When she didn't he sighed again.

"Diana's gone. She got a transfer and left this morning."

Well, it would have been my word against hers anyway, Scully thought. And we all know how well that's turned out before. Scully reached forward, touching Mulder's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

Mulder shook his head against his arms. "No. Let's just not get into it. She's gone. End of story." He lifted his head, staring at the wall in front of him. "Okay?"

Scully said nothing, watching the tense line of his shoulders. For a long couple of minutes the silence stretched on between them, each lost in their own recollections of the past few days.

"I," Scully said and paused for a moment as she considered her words. "I have to believe that we will find the men responsible one day, Mulder. I'm not giving up until we do."

Mulder gave a silent laugh and put his head down on his arms again. "Remember when I said we were right back where we started?" He shook his head against his arms and then lifted it, turning to give her a tired smile. "I was right."

Scully shook her head, not understanding.

"With you, Scully. I'm with you."

The End

Author's Notes:

This fic would never have been finished if not for the support and virtual love from a wonderful group of people. When I started this story way back in November 1998, I bounced the original idea off Dasha and Sharon. They gave me the green light and I started writing. The first few chapters were sent out to Sharon, Rachel and Alanna but then RL started hogging all my time. By the end of March I had gained a beta in Susanne and lost everyone but Sharon. This is what happens when you're not productive.

In the spring Laney stepped up to the plate and gave me the push I needed to keep writing - if only I could have found the time. She made some excellent plot points and it's my loss that I couldn't bend the story to fit all of them.

Then "Biogenesis" aired and I nearly deleted the whole thing. It
seemed like everyone was writing a mind-reading fic and I didn't
want to get lost in the shuffle. That's when Susanne began
pestering me - in the nicest possible way. Seriously, if it
weren't for Susanne, this story would never have been finished. She
provided countless late night IM sessions as a therapist, a
sounding board, a take-no-prisoners editor with a keen eye for the
details, and a boundlessly enthusiastic researcher. (What is the
proper name for that processed cheese in a can? Which Gunmen runs
fastest?)

Thank you, Susanne - I could never have done it without you.

It seems cruel to make Sharon beta a story that was meant, since
the day it entered my head, for her. But that's just what I did.
She's been here all along, encouraging my behavior and holding me
up when I faltered. The inspiration for this was gleefully stolen
from "Aftershock". I was so blown away by that story that it began
to permeate my imagination. I wanted to know what would happen if
Scully read Mulder's mind. Thank you, Sharon, for letting me play
with your idea.

I also owe a huge debt of gratitude to everyone who wrote me after
this was put on my site as a WIP - especially Linda, Sonny, M, Beaker, Shari and Nancy. Some of you caught my mistakes. A couple
of you took it upon yourselves to make sure everyone knew about
this story. All of you were enthusiastic above and beyond the call
of feedback. I owe you guys more than I could ever repay (or
reply).

Is your mouse flabby and listless? Come work it out here http://alanna.net/sue