Title: Generations 33. Amnesia
Authors:Macspooky with some help from Eowyn who is sorely missed
Series: Generations
Written: August 1997
Rated: R for sexual situations and language.
122K
Category: SRA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance. Skinner/Mrs. Scully romance.

Now for the boring disclaimer stuff. The X-Files and most of the characters in this story belong to Fox, CC, 1013, ect. and I am borrowing them. No copyright infringement is intended. This is strictly for fun and not for profit. Bothrington, his family, Mulder's half sisters and Aunt Sophia are mine along with that damned parrot Krycek who is as noisy as ever. I don't care who posts this story where as long as all of this baggage goes along with it. I fnally finished this on July 12, 1997. Now on with the story.

Summary: Fox Mulder is in a car accident that leaves him with amnesia and severe headaches. Dewayne Botherington is suspicious and goes to work investigating. He doesn't like what he finds.

Finally, after a year I have finished another Generations story. I believe this is something like part 33. I can't believe it! First, I want to thank Eowyn

(72620.2447@compuserv.com). The original story idea was hers and she actually wrote this first chapter last summer plus provided input on some of the other scenes.

Unfortunately, she was not able to finish it with me and I did most of the writing myself. I miss her and I think the story suffers from her absence, particularly as it applies to the character of Walter Skinner which she did so well in our other stories. Sadly, she doesn't know I've finished this because aol keeps bouncing her mail back to me. If you are out there, Eowyn, I hope you enjoy this! Please contact me!

I would also like to thank GHill of "Kicking the Habit"

fame for doing a preliminary reading on this for me and pointing out some boo boos. These long ones are difficult to pull together. She was terrific.

Another note: I tried to make my dialogue as authentic as I could in this story but I have probably failed dismally and do not mean to offend anyone with possible errors. Also, someone wrote me and told me the meaning of the Gaelic phrase Anam Cara and I simply had to use it here. I regret that I no longer have the original e-mail to give proper credit. It is a lovely phrase as you shall see.

Please remember - Eowyn wrote chapter one.

Chapter One

"Dana honey, it's midnight. You need to go home and get some rest." Walter Skinner put his hands on her shoulders gently. The small red headed woman didn't have the energy to argue. She merely shook her head no.

"Scully, your babies need you. They haven't seen you in over thirty-six hours and you haven't slept more than a couple of hours in that time. Go home get some rest," he admonished. He knew that his stepdaughter's life had become a nightmare a day and a half ago when she had received a phone call from the DC police instructing her to come to Georgetown Hospital because there had been an accident.

"I'm not going to leave Fox alone. What if he comes to while I'm gone and no one is there for him. I've got to be there for him. Need to talk to him. You can hear people when you're unconscious. They pull you back." Two small tears escaped her tight control and ran down her cheeks.

For a moment, she was afraid that she was going to become hysterical. She was close to babbling. With a great effort of will, however, she pulled herself together.

"I'll stay tonight. You and Meg need to go home and rest."

Walter Skinner insisted. He had removed his hands from her shoulders and now he just looked at her wondering how much more this woman could take. If he had not fallen so madly in love with Dana's mother, he could easily have fallen in love with her.

"Walter's right. You need to get some sleep. I'll stay, too," her mother assured her feeling a little sick inside. She had begun to love Fox Mulder the day she had walked into her daughter's hospital room and found him yelling at the staff that if they couldn't take care of his partner he would do it himself. There weren't many men as good as Fox, and she had come to care for him as much as if she had given birth to him.

Walter Skinner was tired, but more than that he was worried and he didn't need either of the women before him dropping in exhaustion. He went into AD mode. "I did what both of you suggested last night and left you two here while I went and got some rest, with the understanding that you both would get some sleep during the day. Well neither of you have. Scully you haven't left Fox's side since you got here and Margaret you may have left, but according to Melissa, you played with little Fox, called the family and ran errands. Now, I spent last night in a bed. Neither of you did, so I will get what rest I need in the chair in Fox's room. I called Bill, by the way and he should be here any minute to take you two home. No arguments."

They had argued but in the end he had won with the promise to call them if there was any change and to talk to Fox even though he was unconscious. Going to feel like a damned fool. He'd thought to himself. His wife and step daughter had finally gone home, hopefully to sleep.

Sure hope they get more sleep than I did last night. He'd laid down and even managed to doze off on occasion the night before but had been awakened by his dreams of every close call that Fox had had over the last few years. There were a lot of dreams and not a repeat in the bunch.

The day had been miserable but since there were several meetings that he hadn't been able to cancel and two case reviews that couldn't wait, he'd had to go into the office.

He'd gotten through everything as quickly as possible and left by three. Since then the three of them had shared a vigil by Fox Mulder's bed.

The call had come around noon almost two days earlier.

Special Agent Mulder had been found behind the wheel of a Bureau car by the police. Apparently he had fallen asleep at the wheel on the way home from New York. He'd been there on a serial killer consult and must have decided to head home early after finishing his profile. All of his injuries had been minor except that the way he had impacted a large tree had caused his head to hit the side of the car body. Airbags didn't do a damn bit of good in a side impact. He'd been unresponsive and in a coma since then. The blood work had all come back negative for drugs and alcohol. Could of told the morons that. Fox would never do anything like that. Both the AD and Dana had insisted on extra blood being pulled and sent to the Quantico labs, neither quite willing to believe in such a mundane accident for Fox Mulder. Those results weren't back yet but the investigation of the crash scene didn't indicate that anything strange had occurred. No skid marks, no unidentified tire prints, no strange paint on Fox's car where he might have been forced off the road. Still, Walter felt uncomfortable however, without some kind of evidence there was no case to pursue.

The first day hadn't been so bad, which was why he had agreed to go home and get some sleep. The doctors hadn't been too worried at first, but as today had gone on with no sign of their patient awakening, they had begun to run more tests and to become concerned. Other than the concussion which should have been better by now, they could find nothing wrong and no reason for Fox to remain unconscious. Yet unconscious he remained.

Walter entered his room again and sat down in the reclining chair by his bed. Remembering Dana's insistence that he talk to Fox he said, "I'm back, Mulder. And I'm talking because your wife insisted on it. It was the only way that I could get her to go home and get some sleep. If you're in there and can hear me you need to come round soon cause this is really tearing her up. Not to mention Meg. Meg loves you like one of her own. Hell the whole family's worried. They all love you a lot." And how do you feel, Wally?

"It's hard for me to believe that something so simple as falling asleep at the wheel could knock you out like this.

I'm mean you face prehistoric microbes and alien retroviruses, even vampires, though I'm still not sure I buy that one. I'd give a bundle to figure out what you're hiding about that case, but every time that it's mentioned you look sick to your stomach. You never told me and I bet Scully either but I get the feeling that you got involved with someone briefly out in California that time. You shouldn't beat yourself up over it-- you know. Scully was gone and I could see how lonely and devastated you were... hell, Fox, everybody needs someone sometime."

Mulder lay there quietly making no sign that he heard which scared Walter even more. It was so quiet and still.

At least when the three of them had been there together it didn't seem so empty. Now it seemed so very vacant and silent.

"I guess now I understand what you went through when Dana was in a coma. Margaret said that you wouldn't stay by her bedside until that last night...that you couldn't bear to see her like that, especially knowing that she might be dying. I know that isn't true though. It was because I wouldn't let you have any more time off. I feel guilty about that now. Back then, Fox, I didn't know how much you loved her."

Sighing Walter stood up to pace, glancing at Fox every so often and more words came pouring out. "Mulder, I know you have a tendency to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong, that happens to those you love, but I want you to know that it isn't your fault. You do good. You fight the bad guys, and yes there is a price to pay, but the price would be so much higher if you weren't willing to pay it.

Have I ever told you how much I admired your courage in persuing the X-files, even thought you knew how much it would hurt your career? You can't deceive me... I mean I know you've fooled everyone else, even Scully, on this point but I know that you want to advance in the Bureau, that one day you'd like to be an AD, or even a Deputy Director or the Director himself. You've got the brains for it, and even the people skills, if you'd put your mind to it.

Don't be afraid to try. Okay, son? Not for me or for anyone else but for yourself and what you want." Walter paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. It was difficult to talk to someone who was not responding, difficult and maddening.

"I know it means compromise and that that's what has you so worried about moving up, but you can do a lot of good, stand up for what's right, and stick to the most important beliefs. Compromise doesn't mean selling out, son." Here Walter stopped and chuckled, "You know other people believe just as strongly as you do about some things, and compromise just means that you learn to accept that and respect their beliefs. I had to do that with you and all your crazy theories, you know?"

"I didn't, make that don't... oh hell, Fox, I don't know what to believe about your little green men any more. After what I saw in Ireland, and all the trouble they've gone to to keep things hidden...hell, I don't know what to think. Why bother if you aren't some nut case? I mean an agent that believes that aliens are coming to earth might be a bit of an embarrassment but certainly not worth all the trouble they go to. At first I thought it was just about you and Scully finding out about the government or private groups experimenting on uninformed subjects... And I do believe that they are doing that, but now I'm beginning to wonder...That scares the shit out of me, Mulder. I mean I know that you regard it as a fact that life from other planets has been here on earth, is still here on earth." Walter couldn't quite believe he was saying all this. It felt alien to him even to be discussing it, but he knew his words and the sound of his voice was important if Mulder was still there. They had never discussed what they had seen in Ireland. He had = been too uncomfortable to talk about it, and sensing this, Mulder had respected his privacy.

"But I want to tell you, son, that that's one area that I think the Cancerman's right about...If what you believe is true I think making it public would do more harm than good.

Most people aren't like you. They aren't awed and fascinated by the unknown. They are terrified by it. The vast majority of people just couldn't handle the uncertainty of it... I know that's hard for you to understand. Probably one of your greatest weaknesses is that you can't comprehend that someone would prefer not to know the truth. They'd rather live comfortably in their ignorance, than in fear in their knowledge. But most people are like that. Most people aren't driven like you... like we are."

Walter paused his monologue and poured himself a drink of water, still pacing as he drank. His eyes darting around the dimly lit room trying desperately to find something, anything to focus on other than the silent, still body in the bed. It wasn't long before the silence became too oppressive for the AD and he began to talk again.

"Mulder... Fox... we need you to come back. I mean who's going to run interference with little Fox for me. I'm counting on you to be there for both of us when he gets to his teen years. My dad had a hell of a time with me. Talk about being pig headed and stubborn... I always insisted on having it my way. He never really understood... guess he was a bit too old. I came late in his life like the little guy did with me. But he had a younger brother, my Uncle Ed, I could always talk to him... He ran interference for both of us. I don't think my dad and I had a civil conversation for five or six years... at least that's what it seemed like. So I figure JF and I may start butting heads as well and I was counting on you to be there... You know keep every thing in perspective for both of us. I sorta figured that I'd be doing a bit of the same for you and Patrick or maybe little Brenda... If she's as stubborn as her mom she's going to be a handful. But I bet she's going to be daddy's girl. She sure makes eyes at you... I can tell how much you like the fact that she leaves whoever she's with and goes to you when you come in the room. She started doing that around Christmas didn't she?

"Christmas was sure a riot this year wasn't it?" Walter stopped and stared at Fox for awhile before continuing.

"You know Sophia came over to warn Meg and me about your present. She was afraid that we'd reject it... I probably would have but I could tell how much it meant to you. But I do not want an airplane or anything else extravagant for my birthday or Father's day this year. okay?"

Walter sat and took Mulder's hand remembering Sophia's visit a few days before Christmas.

"I wanted to warn you two that Fox has gotten your Christmas present." Sophia, never one to beat about the bush got straight to the point.

"Warn?" Walter questioned.

"He's been a bit extravagant."

"What now?" Meg had questioned. "Let me guess he saw that old washer and dryer I have and decided to get a new set."

"If you wanted a new set, I'd have been happy to get them for you." Walter had broken in.

"I didn't say I wanted a new set but I figured that Fox might decide to get one. I'm quite happy with the ones I've got, they run just fine and I'm used to them. But if he's being extravagant..."

Walter nodded but before he could say anything Sophia chuckled, "I'm afraid that he's been a bit more extravagant than that, Meg. And I think the present is mostly for Walter."

"Maybe a new computer? My old one at the office has been giving me fits of late and there isn't any money in the budget for at least another year for a replacement."

"I'll keep that in mind to suggest to him for your birthday."

Sophia told Walter then added, "No he's been more extravagant than that."

"Just how extravagant are we talking about?"

"Well he came home with it yesterday and Dana just shook her head and asked him if he didn't think it was a bit much. He replied that he knew how much you weren't looking forward to buying one of those boxy things and that this would be a lot more fun for you all. Of course it pretty obvious that by you all he meant Walter."

"Box? What box?" Walter was very puzzled by now.

Sophia decided she'd better come to the point. "He bought you one of those big all terrain vehicles... I think they call them four by fours. Said that since you only had the little Squirt that that should do just fine and you wouldn't have to drive around in one of those silly vans that you hate. I think the only thing he rues about being married is the damned minivan Dana made him buy."

"Fox bought Walter a car?" Meg was a bit stunned. She and Bill had been fairly well off in the later years but this was definitely out of their league. She turned to look at her husband to see his reaction.

"Not just any car, Meg. Those things start upwards of thirty-five grand and if I know Fox he got one with all the bells and whistles." Here Walter turned to Sophia. "So tell me did Bill Mulder not let him buy anything for him when he was a kid?"

"Not a damn thing, even when he was little. After Samantha was gone, well my brother felt too guilty and broke off almost all contact. Claimed he didn't want to encourage the boy in sentimental nonsense. Try to understand, Bill was raised by the meanest, most manipulative son of a bitch I have ever known. He didn't know how to either give or receive love, especially from his son. Mulder was always stuck on the outside of the happy families around him watching and observing, never really a part. Even Teena didn't want him after she remarried. Guess now he want's to make up for it."

"Why tell us?" Meg asked.

"If you two are going to refuse the gift, I want to try to get Dana to talk him in to taking it back, convincing him that he's gone overboard. I think it would hurt him less that way. Well I wanted to prepare you and give you some time to think about what you were going to do. Let me know and I'll see what I can do." She got up and Meg saw her to the door.

"Well, dear, what are you going to do?" Meg asked her husband when she came back.

Walter sighed, "What do you think? I mean it's supposed to be for you, too."

"Now we both know who he he bought it for." Her husband nodded his agreement. She continued, "So would you like one of those four by four thingies?"

"I've looked at them off and on but they were so much more expensive than minivans that I didn't think we could justify the expense. What with wanting to save for the little Fox's college and all it's a pretty extravagant purchase. But I guess Fox realized that I really hated the idea of a minivan... guess that's why I've been stalling so long driving your old wagon."

"So your going to accept his present?"

"You sound surprised?"

"I am. Not that I don't think that we should, only that you could unbend enough..."

"You mean swallow my pride."

"Well not exactly but..."

"You know that Fox hasn't been the least bit extravagant with himself or even Dana for that matter. He practically ignores that he has any money at all. His biggest splurge was the Mustang... at least up until this point. I really don't have the heart to turn him down."

"I'll tell Sophia next time I talk to her." Margaret Skinner shook her head in puzzlement.

Walter brought his mind back to the present and gazed on the young man who lay so still. He had accepted the car and was glad that he had. Giving the gift had meant a great deal to Fox. His very acceptance of it had been a gift as well. He sat down finally, drained. For the moment he couldn't think of anything else to say. He had been lonely for so long, and then suddenly here was all this family, all this joy and all the sorrow too. He sighed. He would have to be strong for them. Things weren't going to be easy for anyone for awhile and it was going to be a long and lonely night.

Chapter 2

Dana entered the hospital room and sat down by her husband's bedside after a long. lonely and essentially sleepless night. She took his hand in hers. Walter nodded at her and left. Words were unnecessary. She knew it was a little selfish, but she was kind of glad that he hadn't awakened while she had been gone. She wanted him to wake up with her there. When were they going to be left in peace? she wondered. When were they going to be allowed to love each other and raise their children the way normal people did without having to worry about who was out to get them or whether the children were in danger? It was so unfair. They had never done anything to hurt anyone.

They weren't bad people. She pushed the thought aside as non productive. Dana was no longer naive enough to believe that Fox's injuries had been strictly an accidental.

Someone had set him up. When he woke up, she was certain he would tell her that his government car had been run off the road. Brooding on the unfairness of it wouldn't find out who or make him better.

"I'm here, Spook," she said softly. "I'm here and I love you.

Please come back to me."

A few silent moments passed, moments in which she bent over and stroked his hair gently. Then she felt a stirring.

Her husband moaned and ever so slowly opened his eyes.

His head felt as though a pile driver was going through it, and things were a bit blurry at first, but then Scully came more or less into focus. Scully...always Scully...she was always there. He heard himself moan again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, sweetheart," she said softly. She smiled at him, a beautiful radiant smile, and bent over and kissed his lips.

"Why did you call me sweetheart?" he whispered. His throat felt dry and his lips cracked. He wanted to ask what happened, but in his befuddled state it seemed very important to know why his partner had called him sweetheart. It wasn't like Scully at all to play games like that.

"Because, husband of mine, you will always be my sweetheart...How do you feel?"

"Husband? Am I dead, Scully?" His eyes closed again.

Dana felt alarm rising. Fox had awakened from his coma, but her instinct told her that something was very very wrong. She hoped that his mind was just befuddled by the drugs and the knock on the head. He had already fallen back to sleep, however, and she could question him no further just then.

It was another hour before he opened his eyes again. This time Scully was there along with a physician...Dr.

Daly...jeez...he hated Dr. Daly. If Dr. Daly was here, that meant that he was in Georgetown...and not dead.

"It's good to see you awake, Mr. Mulder," said the doctor.

Given what he knew about this man, he wasn't certain that he meant it. An unconscious Fox Mulder was easier to deal with. He was, however, a dedicated physician, and he would keep his dislike under control and do everything in his power to help the young man get well.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked. He felt a little better than the last time he had awakened, but his head was throbbing unmercifully and his throat still felt raspy. He had had a strange dream, a dream in which Scully had told him that he was her husband.

"Over 48 hours..." said Dana softly.

"Do you know what today's date is?" asked Daly.

Mulder had to think. His head hurt worse when he tried to do so. When he told them, he knew he had given them the wrong answer. He had failed "Today's Date 101." Scully looked stricken, and he was suddenly afraid. What was going on here? He could see the fear on her face, could almost feel it emanating from her. It was subtle, but he knew her that well. She was frightened.

Suddenly, Daly was telling him the date.

"I don't remember," he said..."that can't be. It can't be..."

He closed his eyes and unconsciousness overcame him once again.

Ever so slowly he opened his eyes once again. Scully was still there looking even more tired than she had before.

Maybe the conversation with Daly had been a bad dream.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad dream.

"Scully," he whispered.

"Hello, Fox," she said quietly.

Ignoring the fact that she called him Fox, he asked her to help him sit up. She pushed the button and raised the bed slowly, but even that motion was too much for him. He felt violently nauseated. She grabbed the kidney basin and held him as he vomited, then wiped his face with a cool cloth, and gave him small sips of water.

"You are always here to pick up the pieces..."

"I'm supposed to be, " she said softly, "There is no easy and gentle way for me to tell you this, Fox and I don't think you remember, but I'm your wife..."

He managed a snort. It hurt, but he managed it.

"You and I married, Scully. I don't think so. I'm still kinda pissed at you for cutting that deal with that bastard Skinner so you could see your sister."

"I know...I knew you were very angry with both Skinner and me about that...but you forgave me. Eventually you even forgave him. You have amnesia, Fox...More than two years has gone by since you came back from New Mexico. Two years and a lot has happened."

"Why the hell should I believe you?" he asked. He looked at her face. She was looking at him with concern and something more, sadness and perhaps fear. Yes, again he sensed fear in her.

"Hey, it's me, Scully..." she said trying to keep her tone light. "Remember...you are the only one I trust?"

"How the hell do I even know that? Samantha wasn't Samantha..." he had a nightmare vision of a cloned Scully bleeding green, lying to him, breaking his heart as the false Samantha had. He didn't think he could endure that right now.

"Shh...".she said softly. She could see that he was growing agitated. The problem was that she hadn't known any other way to tell him what was happening except to be direct.

He was too perceptive. If she had tried to lie to him or keep anything from him, he would have grown even more suspicious. "You'll make the headache worse. I understand.

I'll prick my finger so you can see my blood..." She offered. She didn't know what else to do. They had gone through a bad time after New Mexico. For a time it had seemed their partnership would fall apart. Then, of course, they had worked it out. He had proposed and...

"No..." he said quickly and she realized why. He expected her blood to be green and to be exposed again to the alien retrovirus.

"My wedding ring." She held out her hand to him deciding to try a different tactic. "You picked it out for me. It's beautiful. You chose the diamond with the emeralds to match the earrings you got me for my birthday..."

Dana had a knot in her stomach the size of a large ball of twine, but she knew she had to remain calm outside. Dr.

Daly had said perhaps the amnesia was only transitory due to the blow on the head he had taken. She didn't want to excite or upset him...just reassure him.

"I remember the earrings. Gran..." He looked at her hand.

Ever so slowly, he raised his left hand and saw that he too was in possession of a ring. The hand dropped quickly.

"Next you will be telling me I have children," he sighed never for a moment thinking it was true.

"Actually, yes...twins, a boy and a girl, Brenda and Patrick.

They will be a year old in two weeks." Dana reached out to touch his head, but he moved it away...moved it too quickly and felt disoriented and sick to his stomach again.

"Leave me alone, Scully. I can't deal with it right now. My head hurts. Just go away and leave me alone." He turned his face away from her and prayed that his stomach wouldn't betray him again. He didn't think he could stand having her touch him again at that moment.

"Okay...go back to sleep," she said softly. "I need to go check on the kids anyway. I'll ask them to get you something for the nausea and I'll come back later. It will be all right Fox. Don't be afraid. You'll see. It will be okay." His eyes were already drifting closed.

She bent over and kissed his forehead before leaving him.

Sleep came as a relief. He didn't have to look at the sadness on her face and the tears in her eyes as she walked out of the room.

"Hello, Fox," said Margaret Skinner softly. She studied her son-in-law's face as he slowly opened his eyes. She had decided to take a turn sitting with him after her daughter had called. Although Dana had been keeping her emotions tightly in check as usual, Meg had heard the pain in her daughter's voice as she told her mother that Fox had amnesia and didn't seem to be able to remember anything of the last two years. Margaret had tried to reassure her daughter that it was probably temporary from the concussion, but she wasn't certain that she had succeeded.

It was Dana who was the doctor after all. She had been worried about Dana. Her daughter had sounded totally exhausted and she and Sophia still had two young children to deal with at home on top of everything else.

"Hello, Mrs. Scully," he replied wondering what she was doing here. His headache had abated somewhat, but his brain still felt fuzzy.

She smiled at him and took his hand.

"It's Mrs. Skinner now, actually, but you always called me mom..."

"You married...him?" asked Fox. The him came out dripping with sarcasm. He knew it wasn't fair. Skinner had gotten them back to work, had gotten Cancerman to call off the dogs temporarily. Still, Skinner was part of the bureaucracy. He had done a good thing for them on one hand. On the other, Fox still wasn't entirely certain he trusted the man. The thought of Margaret married to him...

"Let me help you sit up," she said unruffled putting the bed back in a upright position. "Yes, I married Walter, and I know you might find this hard to believe, but you and he are very close. You call him dad, and he thinks of you as a son."

Fox just blinked. None of this was real. It couldn't be happening.

"What happened, Mrs. Scul...Skinner?"

"You were in a car accident, dear," she explained. "I think that my husband and your wife are of the considered opinion that the accident had help. I'd bet that Walter has some of his best people working on it including Agent Bothrington. If someone did this to you, they will find him.

Walter will see to it."

Fox could see that she was genuinely convinced of this, but then if she was Skinner's wife, she would be. He wondered who the hell Agent Bothrington was anyway. Margaret had said it as though the man were something special, but he didn't have the energy to ask. Sensing his discomfort, Margaret held up a glass of water with a straw for him to sip. He took it gratefully.

"Scully said we have children," he blurted out finally.

"Uh...huh..." Margaret's face lit up with a smile and she did what every grandmother does best, whipped a stack of pictures out of her purse.

"This one here is Patrick Steven Wolf...and the little redhead is Brenda Stephanie. Steven is Walter's middle name," she announced proudly. If it felt odd to be showing a man pictures of his own children as though they were strangers, she didn't let it show. Having Fox for a son-in-law had never been entirely normal.

Fox blinked. His eyes had to be deceiving him. The one called Patrick was the image of him, and the one called Brenda looked so much like Dana with just a wee bit something...yes, just a wee bit of Samantha as a child thrown in. This had to be fake, all of it. They could have taken his baby pictures and Dana's and made this photo.

But that little girl...there was something... Margaret saw his skepticism.

"Well, you'll see them soon enough," said Meg. "Now this is my pride and joy." She whipped out another picture.

"I'm written up in the medical texts. Walter and I had a honeymoon baby and I'm way too old...a miracle I think you called it when you found out...anyway, this is Walter Fox Skinner. He looks like his dad..."

"Definitely the same hairline," he muttered looking at the baby picture. He saw Margaret smile as she showed him another picture. The slightly older baby was getting a full = head of hair and looked a lot like her older son Bill. Fox remembered Bill, head tackle in the Scully family football team. He sighed. Dana's birthday...that had been a happy day. His partner was back...Now everything was suddenly complicated once again. A miracle baby...he had told Margaret her baby was a miracle. He tried to remember but it caused a pain to shoot through his head.

"It's a lot to take in, Fox," said Margaret very softly. She slipped her pictures away and took his hand. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him.

"I know you are hurting right now, Fox. And where you are...well, I know you just lost your dad...and everything is very confusing. Take it slow, Fox. One step at a time.

Dana loves you. We all do. It's going to be okay. Your life has changed a lot since you came back from New Mexico. You even have extra help from Agent

Bothrington. You get some rest now and don't try to force it." The older woman got to her feet.

"Walter will be by a little later to see you." She bent over and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back tomorrow. Dana is getting a nap and then she'll come by again." Margaret turned and left the room before allowing a tear to fall.

Poor Fox. He looked so pained and confused. He was back to a time in his life when he had no one. He must be very frightened. Well, at least now he wouldn't be alone as he had been in the past. There was plenty of family to care about him and to help him recover. On her way home, she decided, she would stop at the church and light a candle to the Blessed Virgin. She had always found Mary to be a powerful spiritual ally.

The man lit a cigarette and stood before the others trying to hide his vague sense of amusement.

"What is the news on Mulder?" one of the men asked him.

"He's awake," replied the Morley smoking man.

"And does he remember?"

"All indications are that he remembers nothing of the past two years."

"Then it looks as though this experiment may be a success," said another.

"Don't be smug," snapped the Morley man. "It has barely been two days. If a slip was made by anyone, this whole little affair could backfire and turn into a fiasco." He ground out his cigarette butt a littler harder than was necessary. The new drug was a powerful weapon if it worked, and Mulder a good test subject on the surface, but these fools didn't realize what they were up against. It was one thing to experiment on...well other sorts of test subjects, but Mulder was something else again. He was the first subject with an eidetic memory which was part of the reason they wanted to use him. There was also another consideration though. Since none of them understood the meaning of the word family, they didn't realize that the wagons were about to be circled around their guinea pig and things might not turn out as planned. Sometimes these fools had a tendency to forget just whose grandson Fox Mulder was.

Chapter 3

The nurses aids brought him a tray of food...the good old hospital light diet...bad chicken soup, crackers and jello with ginger ale. Hell, he had spent so much time in hospitals that he had the routine down pat. He could almost taste the stuff without lifting the lid off it. Mulder wasn't hungry. He didn't want to eat. The conversation with Skinner had left a bad taste in his mouth. The man had come to his room and called him son, had told him that there was no evidence of any kind of interference with the car, that it had undoubtedly been an accident although it was being checked. Yeah, right. Like he wouldn't cover it up if that smoking bastard hadn't tried to get him. Well maybe it had been an accident, but he would think twice before he believed a word Skinner had said anyway. What else could be expected from someone in cahoots with men like Cancerman or if not in cahoots who had to answer to them. Mulder wanted to take the tray and toss it across the room in anger, only he didn't have the strength. His dad was dead. A stranger like Skinner thought he had the right to call him son. He couldn't believe that he had ever called Skinner dad no matter what they told him. The door opened and Dana came in. She smiled at him, but he could see it was forced. She wore no makeup and looked pale and exhausted. She set a bag down by his bedside and bent over and kissed him.

"Hi, sweetie," she said softly. "You are looking more alert." If she knew about his visit with their boss, she said nothing to him. Just as well. He didn't think she would understand. Her mother was married to Skinner after all.

"I wish you would stop that, Scully," he said. "I'm not your sweetie."

She frowned briefly then forced a calm expression back on her face. He felt a moment of sadness. He had hurt her feelings. He knew he had hurt her a lot in the time they had worked together.

He was relieved when she took the hospital food away, but the relief was short lived.

"I brought you some of my homemade soup," she said gently ignoring his crankiness, "and some real jello, not that cheap hospital stuff. Oh, and some fresh brewed iced tea to drink."

"I'm not hungry," he snapped.

"I know, but you are going to eat." She knew he would never admit he was too shaky to do it himself. She opened the Tupperware container. "Come on...open your mouth."

He sighed because he was too tired to fight her and let her feed him the soup and jello. Oddly, he found it delicious.

She put a straw in the container and he sipped at the iced tea. That too was perfect, not the mix he normally drank, but fresh with a hint of mint. It was as though she knew just the way he liked things...A nurse came in. "The doctor said that we could disconnect the foley," she announced chirpily.

"I'll do it," said Dana quietly. "I'm an MD," she explained.

"Oh, okay, Mrs. ... I mean Dr. Mulder...Just let us know if you need anything." The nurse left. She was grateful to escape. The nurses were already buzzing about two things...about how good looking this patient was and how big a pain in the ass he was already proving to be."

"I don't want you...you're my partner..." He stuttered. He felt disoriented again, mortified...except that she'd done the same thing when he had been in Alaska. It was too late. She already had the covers down and the damn hospital gown up.

"I know what you look like, Fox," she said quietly, "I had two children with you."

"I thought I asked you not to call me that..." he winced as he felt to catheter being pulled. He supposed it had been a bad time to run his mouth. It wasn't that it had hurt particularly, but it was never pleasant having things put in and pulled out of your vital parts.

She ignored him. "It's going to burn the first time you pee," she said quietly, "but then you know the drill."

"Yeah...feels just like a bad case of the clap..."

"And how would you know about that?" she inquired.

"A little present I got from Phoebe once," he said nastily.

"Something she neglected to mention to me one night on a tombstone..." He wondered why he had suddenly felt the need to tell that to Dana.

Dana said nothing. The truth was that she wasn't entirely surprised. It sounded like Phoebe...just not the kind of thing Fox liked to tell her, certainly not the kind of thing he would have told her when they had been just partners. He had been mortified when she had told him she knew about his tape collection.

When she had finished washing him, she took a pair of pajamas out of the bag she had brought and helped him to change. He didn't like the idea of her seeing him naked. It didn't seem right. He couldn't picture himself with her...having kids... Once she had him settled, she gazed at him sadly.

"What...why are you staring at me that way, Scully?" he demanded.

"I...want you to know...I..." she hesitated. "I know we are in very different places just now...but..." She reached out and stroked his head with her hand. "Fox, I loved you even then...even back in New Mexico...and...well...I just loved you...okay...even if we couldn't talk about it then."

He didn't have the strength to do more than nod. Before he drifted off, before he fell asleep, he felt her kiss him once again and heard her quietly leave the room. A part of him wanted her to stay, but another part wanted to be alone with his pain and his fear the way he always had.

A Few Days Later

Fox knew they were going to send him home soon whatever that might mean. When he thought of home, he thought of an apartment...a dark empty apartment near Capital Hill. His aunt Sophia, when she had come to visit had assured him, however, that this was no longer the case, that he had a lovely townhouse with a beautiful garden and that she lived in the downstairs apartment at least for the moment. ...Aunt Sophia of all people. The sight of her arriving in his hospital room had been a shock. He had grown so fond of her during the time he had lived with her, but she had disappeared from his life, and it was nearly impossible to believe she had returned and minded his children, the children he didn't remember having. He sighed. The doctors assured him that nothing was wrong, so why couldn't he remember? They had run all sorts of tests but everything was normal. When he tried to recall anything he got piercing pains in his head to remind him of why he didn't want to try anymore. If he didn't try, he had only a constant dull ache, one they assured him would disappear with rest. He wasn't sure he believed them when they said everything was fine, and he wasn't about to give up on his memory either. Not yet anyway.

Dana came in. He had forced himself to start thinking of her as Dana and not Scully. No matter how he snapped at her, she refused to call him Mulder. Fox it was and that was that. Unlike with Skinner, she wouldn't take a hint, or even a direct statement. She ignored him and continued to call him Fox or worse yet...

"Hey, Spook, you are looking almost human," she smiled.

He couldn't avoid the kiss she insisted on planting although he wished she would stop doing that. It didn't feel right.

"goddamn it, Scully, why the hell do you call me that?" It came out sounding nastier than he had intended.

"It's...well...it's just a silly pet name," she said. "You call me Shorts and I call you Spook." She sat down ignoring how much it hurt when he snapped at her. The doctors had advised her to try to treat him normally in the hopes of triggering a memory, but it wasn't easy when he disliked it so much. Quietly she took out a jug of iced tea for him. He nodded and accepted it gratefully. He remembered a conversation from shortly after they had been

partnered..."If there is an iced tea in that bag it could be love." There had of course been root beer then. He wondered idly if he asked for root beer now if all this would go away and supposed it was a stupid thought.

"Now, why would I call you Shorts?" he asked lightening his tone or trying to. He had never gotten into that kind of silliness with a woman...ever...

"It kind of started on the day you proposed," she began.

She tried to answer his questions honestly.

"Oh, and what did I do, get down on my knees and beg you to marry me?" The question was sarcastic.

"No..." she said quietly, "not at all." She told him about the Irish Folk Festival and how her brother had called her BVD. He had kiddingly started to call her Shorts and it had stuck. Sounded really stupid to him. He rolled his eyes but discovered that it hurt and closed them instead.

"Okay, so how did I propose?" he asked with resignation.

This was pretty good. Fox Mulder

proposing...yeah...right...When she explained, he laughed for the first time since his accident. It was weak but it was a laugh. Talk about being in LaLa Land...Now this so called proposal was really too stupid to believe. "Marry me, Scully, and I'll show you how afraid I am of bodily fluids?

Give me a break, Scully. No man proposes to a woman like that."

"You are special. Besides, you didn't really mean it, which of course obligated me to say yes to teach you a lesson, and then, well, we got married."

"To teach me a lesson?"

"That's one way to look at it," she replied thoughtfully. He saw her eyes were laughing in that instant. "Although I'm not sure who learned it."

Who the hell knew. It was just weird enough to have happened. He had become one of his own X-Files. In any case, she had shown him the marriage certificate and the kid's birth certificates. Still, all those things could be faked. He wondered if alternate universes existed. Maybe he had landed in one. He had been having that thought more and more lately, weird even for Spooky Mulder. If it were an alternate universe maybe he could be beamed back somehow...Scotty, where are you when I need you?

"So, what did I do on our wedding night, Scully, screw your brains out?" The laughter left her eyes to be replaced pain. He knew he had overstepped the bounds of taste this time. She was trying to be so patient with him, and in return he gave her sarcasm a lot of the times. He had overdone it this time. Still...it was hard to believe...he didn't believe...none of this could be real, could it?

Sometimes he still felt so disoriented.

"No," she said softly, "no you didn't. You made love to me.

It was sweet and wonderful. You were tender and loving, and I ... I was so happy. You were too, Fox. I had never made love to anyone before and..."

"Give me a break, Scully...you are too damn old to be a virgin. I'll go for a lot of bullshit, but not that. " Fox sighed and turned his face away. Scully a virgin...definitely alternate universe time. Hell, everyone had known about her affair with Jack Willis. According to Jack, she had been a misery in the sack. He wished they would all leave him alone. Whatever the hell they were trying to do, they were pushing it too hard. Jeez...All of this could be faked...all of it, everything, and there were moments he was letting himself fall for it...fall for it and believe...Dana got up. It had become time to end the conversation.

It was becoming too painful and he had started not to believe her again.

"They are releasing you tomorrow, Fox. I'll come and take you home. The children miss you." Once again, the woman claiming to be his wife bent over and kissed him.

Trouble was, he realized that in a way it felt good, too good to be true. There was no way he could see having found happiness with a wife and children, not as long as his sister was gone. Oh sure, he cared about Scully. He had been a madman when she was missing...but to propose to her...to subject children to the danger of Cancerman...it simply could not be..."Scully," he demanded as she walked out the door, "Scully, Samantha isn't dead is she? I mean..."

"We are still looking for her, Fox, together. We'll find her."

With that, Dana was gone leaving him frustrated and dissatisfied rather than reassured.

Chapter 4

Fox recognized Dana's old apartment building, but they drove past it and turned the corner. Dana turned into a drive and hit a remote. A gate opened and let them in and then closed behind them. She pulled the mini van was driving in front of a garage. They had spared no expense on the security of the fence that surrounded the house, he realized. He suspected that there was electronic surveillance as well.

"We keep the Mustang in the garage," she explained.

"Mustang?" he asked. That almost made him perk up. He had always wanted a Mustang.

"It's kind of...well...your baby.," she replied. "It's a good thing you weren't driving it when the accident happened.

You'd be devastated if anything happened to it."

There had been an uncomfortable silence all the way home. She helped him out of the car. He was still feeling a little unsteady. If she had not been a physician, they might have kept him in the hospital a little longer. Taking out a special key, they entered the back of the house. She led him through a large comfortable kitchen decorated in a twining ivy pattern into what was supposed to be a dining room, but which was fitted out as a...as a what...a damn toy store...Jeez...there were toys everywhere including two bouncy horses in the most godawful colors. He had barely had a moment to let the nightmare register when he was suddenly assailed by three dogs...oh, God...a Pomeranian, a Poodle...and some godawfulooking thing...Then there was a flapping sound and a shriek pierced his ears..."Open you legs, Scully...Up and at her...Up and at her..."

He barely had time to think of the proper question, "what the hell was that?" when seemingly out of no where two little kids assaulted him...

"Da da...da da...da da..." repeated the very tiny redheaded girl over and over while the larger male child jumped up and down pulling on him. His head began to throb unmercifully.

"Now, children..." Aunt Sophia came in..."Sorry, they got away..." She looked at her nephew. He collapsed on to the sofa. Within seconds, the kids were all over him. His head was really throbbing. now. God, you could fake everything...birth certificates, marriage certificates...the adults you trusted could lie to you, could act...but how could you fake this? How could you fake toddlers climbing all over you and calling you da da, and three hideous dogs suddenly licking your face and a parrot, for that is what he realized it was, screaming in the background...oh jeez...it had gone from screaming "Open your legs, Scully," to "Rip em off me, Mulder...Does that feel good, Fox..." It was true. It was all true. Fox Mulder had been domesticated. He had been shackled with a wife and kids and a house and pets...and now he would never find out what happened to Samantha. "Please just tell me we don't have a cat," he heard himself moan. He felt his world going black.

A few minutes later after some smelling salts had brought him back to a reality he would have preferred to escape, Dana helped him into bed. He recognized the bed and the furniture, if not the room. He had come to her apartment after his dad had been shot and collapsed in this very same bed. She had taken his temperature and brought him something for a fever and held a damp cloth across his face. It had felt good, good to have someone care for him.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, "It was too much at once. I should have realized."

"It isn't your fault...none of it is your fault," he sighed. He tried to tell himself it wasn't anyway. It had just been a car accident...a stupid car accident. Ironic. He...paranoid Mulder could accept that...but not the house or the kids or Scully...

"Is it okay if the kids come in for just a minute?" she asked.

"They are about to go for a nap and..." She wanted to tell him again how much the twins had missed him, but he cut her off quickly shuddering visibly as he did so.

"Dana, I don't know what to say to them."

"You don't really have to say anything. Just give them a hug and a kiss. Then Sophia will put them to bed and they'll sleep for two or three hours. I'll look after things when they get up...okay..."

He nodded. He didn't have the strength to fight. The kids came in. The little girl came right to him and hugged him, but the boy hung back. It was obvious he had realized that something was not right. Fox was relieved. The girl hadn't been too hard to hug because she had hugged him first, but the boy...he was different. He wasn't sure he liked the little boy.

Later On That Day

The shower had felt good, a real shower with real soap...and clean pajamas and sheets. Although he had balked at the idea, she had insisted and she had been right.

Then she had brought a tray up and made him eat. The room was snug. Dana had lit the fire. He thought he might even be able to sleep through the night. Although he was feeling a great deal better for the food and being really clean, his head still hurt, so when she brought him a painkiller he accepted it. A short while thereafter, she had reappeared in a soft buttery colored nightgown that exposed rather a lot of chest. Her hair hung loose. She looked beautiful in the firelight, like he would imagine a renaissance queen to be, like something out of a past age...

"What are you doing?" he asked as she started pulling back the covers to climb into bed.

"I'm going to sleep," she said quietly.

"Here? With me?"

"Of course. It's our bedroom..."

"But..." He felt himself getting panicky.

"Fox, I'm not going to sleep on the sofa bed downstairs. The children are up here and this is my room. I need to be where I can hear them at night..and you if you should start to feel sick."

"Unh...yeah...right..." He was suddenly very uncomfortable. He hadn't actually thought about sharing a bed with her. He turned his back to her. It was a queen sized bed. There should be plenty of room for both of them. He felt her body snuggle against his back. He smelled the scent of her shampoo...if his head hadn't hurt so much...

"Do you have to do that?" he asked her in an annoyed tone and she moved close to him. God, he was being such a jerk. How many times had he dreamed of what it might be like to lie next to her and hold her and now...

"I'm sorry," she said softly moving away from him. "It's just that I...well...I've gotten so used to sleeping in your arms and I've missed you."

"Good night, Scully," he said by way of reply.

"Night,...I love you. I'm glad your home, Fox." She didn't touch him again.

Early The Next Morning

He smelled coffee and found his way downstairs tripping over a toy and stubbing his toe as he did so. He cursed and went into the kitchen.

"Hi, swe-" she said. She had caught herself just in time. It had become clear to her that he didn't like it when she called him sweetie or anything like that. "I was going to bring you up some coffee in a few minutes." Dana came over to him and reached up kissing his cheek. He had surprised her. She hadn't thought he would come down.

She was pleased. The babies were in their high chairs.

They started making squealing noises as they saw him.

Tiredly in spite of many hours sleep, he sat down at the table.

"Da da...da da..." said the little girl. Dana set a cup of coffee in front of him and some orange juice which he drank gratefully staring at the kids. She put a plastic plate with French toast in front of her son...lots of French toast...and a half a piece in front of her daughter. A box of Captain Crunch appeared in front of him.

"You know what I like," he said managing a grin. He had always been something of a junk cereal addict.

"I'll make you some French toast too," she said softly.

Briefly she touched his shoulder wishing she didn't feel so beat.

"What's he making such a fuss about?" asked Fox. The boy was sitting in the high chair, a mouth full of food starting to pitch a fit.

"You have to give him Captain Crunch when my back is turned," she sighed.

"Why?"

"Just give him the damned cereal, Mulder, before his cries deafen us both. It's a game. You sneak him sugared cereal when I'm not looking. I pretend not to notice. This way, he's happy, you're happy. Everyone is happy but me." She caught the French toast before it burned.

He put a pile of cereal on the kid's tray and found himself growing faintly nauseous as the boy stuffed his mouth and drooled. He decided that she probably called him Mulder when she disapproved of his actions.

"What about her?" he asked as Dana put the food in front of him.

"Not a problem. She doesn't eat." Dana sat down with her own breakfast which wasn't much more than Brenda's.

Mornings had always been hectic in the Mulder household.

"So, at breakfast I'm Mulder, huh?" He leaned back. He had been watching Scully move around the kitchen and decided that she was kind of sexy in the morning. He suspected it had something to do with her hair not being as perfect as it always was in the office.

"That's cause your ass is always grass at breakfast, Mulder.

It's where you do your worst with the kids..." She smiled at him. Suddenly she wished he were back doing his worst with them again instead of just asking about it because he didn't know...couldn't remember.

"Hmm...real maple syrup...I must be rich..." he quipped ignoring her. He was trying to be humorous. Somehow, he felt as though it wasn't working. In any case, he had never been a morning person. He wasn't certain he could deal with this on a daily basis. No...he was sure he couldn't.

"You are, " she replied, "something close to a billionaire at last count, but that is another story...something else to tell you. For now, eat." She picked at her own food.

"God, does he have to do that, Dana?" asked Fox annoyed as the boy decided to make raspberries with a mouth full of French toast. He moved away as quickly as he could but got sprayed anyway. The kid had been kind of cute looking up until that point.

"Who do you think taught him, Mulder?" she asked.

Fox definitely decided that at breakfast his ass must really be grass and if she was telling the truth he could understand why. Yes. Scully hadn't been kidding. Then again, she wasn't really a morning person either as he recalled. It had always taken one cup of coffee before either of them could discuss a case coherently. He supposed that in her mind, the breakfast table was where he screwed up the worst.

Scully would not approve of sugared cereal for kids. The little girl stared at him. Now that was kinda cute. She definitely wore her mother's studious expression.

"Hey, little lady, are you coming on to me?" he asked putting a smile into his voice.

"All the women come on to you," sighed Dana. Fox looked at her and realized she was tired.

"Oh yeah...cool...lot's of women throwing themselves at me. There are worse things in life that could happen than having women flirt with you."

"I guess that depends upon your point of view. I'm a jealous wife." Dana managed a small smile for him.

"Come on, Spook. Finish your food. I know they don't feel much like your kids, but they don't know that. They are going to want to play with you after breakfast."

"Oh, joy," he muttered under his breath trying to convince himself that he should at least be grateful for the fact that Aunt Sophia had taken away that damned parrot.

Chapter 5

Dana cursed silently and entered the garage. Fox's first day at home had been difficult. He had wanted to stay up and watch TV for awhile, but the children had gotten on his nerves. He displayed no fondness for them or any real interest in them. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he had retreated to the bedroom. Dinner had been a disaster with Patrick crying and fussing the whole time wanting to be held by a father who wanted nothing to do with him. He had tried holding the boy briefly, but sensing rejection, Patrick had only cried more. Dana had had to work at not snapping at her husband. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't remember. For all they knew, he could have subtle brain damage, things that they wouldn't be able to fully assess until he had been home for awhile. The doctors had advised patience but it wasn't easy. Finally she had put the kids to bed after he had refused to help, but when she had come back downstairs she had realized that he had left the house. She had seen the light on in the garage and gone in search of him. After their marriage he had gotten over the habit of having his snits in places that were cold, but that had taken time, time which for him in his present state hadn't passed. It was back to dark moods in cold places.

He was standing in the light of the two overhead bulbs staring at the Mustang.

"You okay, Fox?" she asked gently. She checked the baby monitor with one hand to make certain the volume was turned up. Fortunately the twins seemed to be deeply asleep.

"Yeah, Scully, just great," he replied. He almost wished he was back in the hospital. "So, I'm a rich man and I bought myself this car. Jeez, Scully, it's yellow. Looks like a goddamned canary."

"Yup," she laid a hand gently on his arm but he pulled away. She looked up at him and then down at the convertible and suddenly the tension of the day just got to be too much for her and she started to laugh hysterically.

He looked at her quizzically unaccustomed to hearing such open delight from her.

"What?" he asked a smile playing about his lips in spite of himself. Scully had always been pretty when she laughed even when she had been drenched in the pouring ran in a cemetary in Oregon. Funny, but he had seen her stripped nearly naked on their first case and hadn't thought her pretty at that moment, but now remembering her standing in the rain...he refocused on what she was saying...

"Oh...nothing...I was just thinking about the weekend you surprised me with this little toy."

"And..."

"I probably shouldn't tell you if you can't remember. It might be a blessing."

"Oh, come on, Scully. You can't keep me in suspense." If it had made her laugh out loud, it must have been good.

Scully had never laughed enough.

"Well, you convinced me that we should take a ride in the country."

"That sounds like a good way to test drive a new car. Logical...scientific."

"Yeah, except then you pulled over into what was supposed to be a secluded place."

"And..."

"And, you decided to act out on some teenaged fantasies, so there we were, making it in the back seat with the top down which wasn't easy cause I was 8 months pregnant...

"Get out of here," he said. He thought she had to be lying.

He couldn't picture making it with his partner at all none the less an 8 months pregnant partner. Course they were married then supposedly. "How'd I do that?" The logistics were fascinating anyway and he had never minded a dirty story.

"Why God made knees...yours anyway..." she said quickly blushing. "so, there we were with me in the back seat, my maternity skirt hiked up over what had once been a waist with my legs draped wherever I could put them and you on your knees in your favorite spot when who should pull up but a young highway patrolmen who, how shall I say this, caught you at rather a critical moment, but who chose to discreetly wait. I was at this point unaware of his presence since I couldn't see over my stomach."

"You're lying," he said flatly. His lips threatened to quirk up.

"Am not. Anyway..."

"Were you screaming?"

"Yup...anyway..."

"So I suppose our FBI ID got us off the hook...?" If the story had involved anyone else but Scully, he too might have been laughing hysterically. He didn't really have any qualms about making it in the back seat of a car with a willing female, though he doubted he would have chosen a pregnant one, and she probably would have been a brunette. This was something she had to be making up...even if all the rest of it was real...this simply could not be...not his prissy partner Scully who made a career out of ignoring his crass remarks and looking at him with total disapproval.

"Nope." She grinned at him. "When he asked you what you were doing...aw jeez, Mulder...instead of apologizing nicely and promising that it wouldn't happen again, you told him...you told him that you were just grabbing a quicky on the way to the hospital..."

"I didn't?"

"You did."

Trouble was that part of it sounded just like him. He waited for her to finish.

"So, he insisted on escorting us to the hospital and going inside with us. Trouble was, I wasn't in labor. Fortunately, just as they were coming to wheel me away, he got another call and had to go and we snuck out the back door."

"Real close call huh?" he inquired quizzically. "Were you mad at me?"

"Humiliated," she confessed. "But mad, nah...wasn't the first time you'd gotten me into trouble that way." She told him briefly about the incident in the barn in Ireland. He could relate to that more or less because he remembered the story of Bridget Feeney from her birthday party.

"Sounds like maybe you should have been mad, Scully."

"Now how could I be mad when I enjoyed it as much as you did," she chuckled. "I wasn't laying there screaming "no." Heck, I liked it as much as you did. As I recall I couldn't find a...I couldn't really get my legs where I could open them en...Oh hell, when I was pregnant I couldn't get...Never mind." This might have really happened but she wasn't certain she enjoyed talking about it. "Anyway, I did make you buy me a double scoop of ice cream on the way home though." She slipped an arm around his waist.

"We had lot's of good times, Fox, you and I...bad ones, but more good ones. We will again. It'll be okay. You'll see."

He sighed his head throbbing again. He knew that she was trying to be strong for him, to encourage him, but nothing felt right about the situation. "That was a good story, Scully. Except for the pregnant part, sounds as though you have been watching my tapes."

"Come on, " she said softly. "Let's get you inside before you get pneumonia. I'll get you something for that headache and tuck you into bed."

"Okay," he replied feeling suddenly weak. There wasn't much else he could do now anyway.

Morning Again

Fox woke up groggily in unfamiliar surroundings and then remembered suddenly where he was. He was "home" or what was now his home. The smell of coffee drifted up to him. He went downstairs and flopped into one of the kitchen chairs.

Patrick began pounding on his high chair tray with his baby cup and his sister began to squeal for her Da Da...Remembering the routine, he tossed the kids a handful of fruit loops and poured some in a bowl for himself adding milk. The boy pounded some more.

"He wants milk in his cup, Fox," said Dana bringing him coffee and juice again. She sat down and rubbed her head.

Well, how the hell am I supposed to know that?" he snapped impatiently. He hadn't slept well the night before.

His head had hurt even through the medication haze.

"You aren't. That's why I'm telling you."

"Give me the damn cup, kid," he muttered and filled it before dumping some in the coffee she had given him. He took two sips as Patrick stuffed his mouth with the banana slices she had put on his tray.

"Is it like this every morning?" he demanded suddenly. He hadn't really enjoyed it yesterday. He liked it less today.

"When I'm not working, like today," she told him.

"Jeez," he snapped feeling faintly nauseated. He picked up his coffee and walked out of the room leaving her with her two children. He was going to be insane inside of a week if things kept on like this. To make matters worse, there was a knock on the door and Aunt Sophia came in with the three dogs in tow. Thank God at least she didn't have that stupid bird with her. At least she had taken that away. He wondered what ever had possessed Scully to buy a parrot.

"Hello, Mulder," she said as the dogs jumped all over him.

"I'm going to go get some coffee and we'll sit for awhile."

She disappeared into the kitchen leaving him to fend off the mutts. He heard her gushing over the kids and then as Dana carried them both upstairs to dress them, she sat down with him.

"So," he asked, "when did you come back?" He wouldn't bother to ask from where. She probably wouldn't have told him anyway.

"When you bought your wife this house and I realized it had a rental unit," she grinned. "Of course, neither of you believed me when I told you you were going to have twins."

"I see..."

"I doubt that," she replied matter of factly. "I would say that you must be very confused just now and perhaps not enjoying life much at the moment."

As usual, his Aunt Sophia hit the nail on the proverbial head.

"Jeez...these dogs..." he complained.

She gathered them up. "They are a handful but lovable...even the mutant there..."

At that Mulder managed a snort. It was the funniest looking damned thing he had ever seen. It could pass for an EBE. Hell, the way his life was now, maybe it was.

Maybe it was the chief EBE and really in control of everything only they just didn't know it. He sighed. That scenario was as likely as a whiney kid that looked just like him drowning him in banana raspberries at the breakfast table.

"Well, the good news is that I'll be moving into the place next door and the two of you will have your basement back to expand. It was a good idea buying that second house...makes security easier with no neighbor next door."

"You mean I own two houses now?" he asked.

"Not exactly. I own the other place, but hell, when I die it'll be yours anyway. Now, now, dear, don't turn green.

You can handle it." She got to her feet and patted his head.

She had been told at how the thought of owning a home had just about sent him over the edge. "I'm going to take the dogs downstairs. Tell Dana that I'll be up to help with the kids a little later. I'm doing some critical research with some friends..."

With that Aunt Sophia was gone. He looked after her. It was hard to believe she had come back. On the other hand, in her own strange way, she had always kind of been there for him when he needed her. He thought about the pat on the head. That was a lot of affection for Sophia. She must have been really shaken up by his accident. He wondered what sort of research she was doing. His head started to throb again at the sight of the children barrelling across the room at him. They were fully dressed now and it looked as though they were ready to rock and roll. Patrick took a flying leap for him and managed to land with his head impacting right against his balls. Mulder let out a yelp, a major yelp in fact, and the kid slipped to the ground and started to wail.

"Take it easy, Patrick," sighed Dana picking him up. "I might need those one day." She smiled at her husband.

That smile held promise of things she might like to come.

He felt a sense of panic overtake him. God, if the promised things ever did come, he could end up with another one these shrieking little people. He decided it was time to go back to bed...alone. He was not glad that he was "home."

It didn't feel like home. He sighed. Maybe he would wake up and everything would be okay. The trouble was that he knew he was awake already. The throbbing in his vitals thanks to this child who looked exactly like him told him that.

Chapter Six

Special Agent Dwayne Bothrington sat in his car and tapped his fingers against the dashboard. He was a man who had survived the streets of New York City by instinct, and right now the hairs on the back of his head were standing on end. Shortly after Mulder's so called accident, he had gone to the hospital to check on his boss and part time partner. In the end, he had decided not to actually visit Mulder because his wife had informed him that Mulder was suffering from amnesia and not remembering him, her husband would probably be hostile and paranoid.

Agent Mulder, he knew, had good reason to be paranoid.

Bothrington had devoted every spare minute he had to studying the X-Files, and he had not liked what he had found. At first, he had been inclined to think that most of it was lunacy and that perhaps people were right about at least some aspects of Mulder's personality, but as he had read between the lines and let his perceptions take over, he had come to the conclusion that Mulder was on to something. Although his boss revealed little outright, very strong hints had been thrown and, of course, Agent Scully had been a bit more forthcoming with him from time to time.

There were experiments going on...genetic experiments...maybe using alien DNA if Fox Mulder were to be believed, or maybe just horrible experiments if one took the more earthbound perspective of Dr. Scully. And, Both had studied enough history to fear that there was an excellent chance that a disproportionate number of those experimented upon had been his people. There were still survivors of the Tuskegee Experiment, Black men who had been injected with syphilis in the 1920's and tracked for years. They had been poor and ignorant...desperate men who hadn't known what they had gotten into. Even after penicillin had been found to be a cure, the men were never treated and it had affected Generations. The government's answer had been a feeble apology. What could happen then could happen now.

Because he had gone to school and had become successful, there were those who had said he had betrayed his people.

He had been called an oreo more than once, but Bothrington knew differently. If you were going to help your people, there were games to be played. Both was a man who had wanted to help his people, to right wrongs, to seek justice, and he thought perhaps now he had the chance...if he could help Mulder solve the mystery of the experiments...if he could help shut down the shadow government he was coming to feel existed in the background...There was something else as well. He had gone to New York to visit his mother and his sisters. He ran into an old friend. Well, not really a friend, but a brother who had hung out in the projects. When Walter Skinner had described Mulder's accident, he had remembered the conversation with the junky...a young man his age who already looked 70.

"Brothers is having accidents."

"Brothers are always having accidents."

"Three from just the old block. Always the same..."

"Three junkies always the same?"

"No man...they get in the car. Car be found with them unconscious. When dey wake up dey don't remember what happened. Dey don't remember what happened three years ago...sometimes dey don't remember dere own mother's name."

"Drugs and driving..."

"Maybe but not Jamal...Jamal he smart like you. He gonna get out of the projects...maybe dey mo on other blocks...other projects...it scare me DeWayne...maybe somebody experimentin on us again..."

At first he had scoffed. He had begun to think about it however. Then he had planned to take the conversation to Mulder to see if he thought it bore investigating. He had decided to do it the very next when Mulder got back from his trip and then the call had come that Mulder had been in an accident. Mulder had been in New York. Mulder had had a car accident. Mulder couldn't remember. Somehow he had been only mildly surprised when Scully had told him that Mulder had amnesia. No...that wasn't quite right.

Maybe he hadn't been surprised at all.

Stealing the two viles of Mulder's blood had been a spur of the moment decision...For some reason, he felt there was more to this car accident than Mulder had forgotten. Now he had to decide what to do. He didn't entirely trust the FBI labs or at least not everyone in them, and, he believed, there might be something in those samples that a standard = lab could not detect. Who could he trust? Life had become dangerous the moment he had walked in the door of that basement office and decided to stay.

Having left one vile of blood with a friend who was a lab technician at Howard University Hospital, Agent Bothrington drove to the house of Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner. This was definitely in defiance of protocol. He watched carefully to make certain he hadn't been followed and got slowly out of his car. Luckily, no one seemed to suspect him of anything yet. Hopefully he would be thought of as a token for awhile longer yet. Almost reluctantly he approached Skinner's front door. It was a moment before he rang the bell. He recognized his reluctance for what it was. Skinner represented the Man and the Man was not always good for a brother.

The door was answered by Skinner's wife. She had her baby on her hip and when she saw him, she smiled at him, a warm welcoming smile.

"Good evening, Mrs. Skinner," he said politely, "Is Assistant Director Skinner at home?"

"Why, yes. He is in the den. Come in, please."

Margaret ushered him into the den after taking his jacket.

Walter Skinner looked up in surprise at the sight of one of his agents casually dropping into his house. He put down the book he was reading and got to his feet.

"Thank you so much for inviting me to see your stereo system, Mr. Skinner," said Bothrington, "It is so difficult to know what to buy and I'm certain this will help me make my decision. I know it is a bit unusual, but everyone talks about what a great system you have."

Walter had no idea what the man was talking about, but he wasn't a fool either. Bothrington wanted to talk, and he wanted to make certain the walls didn't have ears.

"No problem, Agent Bothrington. It's a big investment. If agents have to gossip I'm glad it is about my stereo system and not my management style."

He looked at his wife who took the hint and left with a smile.

"Can I offer your a drink? My stepsons bought some fine scotch for my birthday," "Most kind, Sir...just a small one, thank you. I understand you have a fine jazz collection too."

Skinner handed him a drink and popped in a CD, some old Duke Ellington. They talked sound systems for a moment before Both's eyes turned serious. He pulled the vile of = blood out of his pocket.

"Mulder's blood," he said quietly. "I stole it from the hospital. I have taken one vile to a friend who will remain anonymous for testing. I want to take the other one to New York to someone else I know. I always keep a bag packed in my trunk, and there is a flight out in two hours...What I need you to do is to reassure Agent Scully quietly when they discover the samples are missing and to backdate the leave forms. Ostensibly I will be visiting my mother. I also need you to persuade Mulder it was an accident.

Something tells me we will all be safer that way."

Skinner studied the man. They were thinking along the same lines. Interesting...there was more to Bothrington than met the eye. On the surface he seemed the cool collected by the book agent that the bureaucrats loved so well. On the surface, he seemed the sort of black male that the old boys establishment loved to drag out and tote around while they bragged about integration and affirmative action. That was on the surface. Instinctively, Walter had always liked and trusted this man although he was not always what he portrayed on the outside.

"I had planned, Agent Bothrington, to assign you to do a cursory investigation Mulder's accident, however, since an accident is exactly what it seems to be, if you wish to make a brief trip to New York to visit your mother who I have heard is in poor health, I will certainly sign the papers in the absence of your immediate supervisor, Agent Mulder."

He winked at Both.

"I'm sure my mother will recover quickly and I can be back in less than 48 hours, Sir, and thank you. He hesitated a moment not sure whether or not to discuss his concerns. In the end, he decided the less Skinner knew at this point, the better. Bothrington got to his feet. He reached out and shook Skinner's hand. "A wonderful sound system, Sir. I do believe I will consider this model when I make my final purchase. Good evening to you."

Skinner sat thoughtfully. First thing in the morning he would have the necessary paperwork prepared for Both's brief leave. The man undoubtedly had time coming and Angela would not question the dates. He wondered what Both was really up to. Well, he couldn't assign a better agent to investigate Fox's accident. Both was right on all accounts. He knew a report would be forthcoming that it had been an accident and nothing more, but he would simply file it and ignore it. The real story would come out later if there was a real story to be found. Between him and Pendrell doing the technical work on the physical evidence, he had confidence that justice would be served, or so he told himself.

Chapter 7

Dana was relieved that the kids were finally in bed. It had been a difficult second day at home almost worse than the first. The children had left the breakfast table eager to play with the father that loved them so much only to find a tired cranky man who acted like a stranger and who rejected them again. He had made a half hearted effort with them for a few minutes, but very soon grew impatient. Fox had announced that his head hurt and had disappeared upstairs for the rest of the day reemerging briefly at dinner and then disappearing again. It had left her to shoulder the entire burden, and she was so very tired. The children hadn't wanted to go to bed without daddy to read to them and kiss them goodnight, but he had refused...out and out refused.

She found him sitting on the couch in the living room, his feet up on the coffee table, arms crossed looking broody and sulky. It was a look she was all to familiar with. Dana resigned herself to a difficult evening and went into the kitchen and brought him a cup of cappuccino decaf, a bag of sunflower seeds and a small bowl.

"Hi, Spook," she said pinching the wide part of his thigh lightly and smiling. "I thought maybe you could use this."

"Thanks," he muttered. He barely looked at the coffee she had gone out of her way to make.

She sat next to him silently and picked up a magazine, not that she really wanted to read. He didn't move for a long time. Finally, he took a sip of coffee and set it down. She heard the familiar cracking of sunflower seeds and felt him shift in the seat.

"You okay, Spook?" she asked.

"Jeez, I wish you'd stop calling me that stupid name," he snapped. Then he sighed. He hadn't meant to rip her head off like that. It's just that he hated being called Spooky and Spook was a little to close for comfort.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Forget it." Wanting something to do with his hands, he picked up a photo album that was laying on the end table and opened it. On the very first page there was an 8 x10 of he and Dana. He had no idea where it was set, but they were sitting on a blanket surrounded by green. She was in shorts and a yellow tank top and she was sitting between his legs leaning back against him. He was resting his head on her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. It was a beautiful picture of a gorgeous young couple, but he felt disconnected from it somehow as though it couldn't be Scully and he.

"Bill took that picture at Wolf Trap," she said quietly.

"That was the day you asked me to marry you. I was so pleased when he gave it to me. I didn't think there would be any photos."

"We look happy," he said.

"We were," she replied. "I hadn't often seen you have such a good time as you did on that day. It was nice."

Next came a group photo of Skinner's wedding to Mrs. Scully. He flipped that picture quickly finding it hard to believe he was there. He felt she had to be lying when she told him he had been Skinner's best man.

Yeah...right...but he was in a tux. Must've been a clone, he thought bitterly. He couldn't see himself being Skinner's best anything. He simply didn't trust the man.

He turned the page to the next picture. It was another beautiful picture this time set in a church. Dana was dressed in white. It was, he realized, their wedding, well, their second wedding if she was to be believed. She was breathtakingly beautiful, the glow on her face visible even in the photo. He turned the page again. Dana on Skinner's arm. He had "given her away." Jeez. Then there was the two of them dancing, and gran...him dancing with gran. It was uncanny how much she and Dana looked alike.

Another turn of the page and there was a photo of them in this house except that it had been empty at the time. There was a Happy Anniversary Banner in the background with a folding table laden with food. Dana was obviously pregnant, and the camera had caught them at a very intimate moment, one of those moments no one was supposed to observe none the less take a picture of. He was standing near her rubbing her distended belly in a proprietary manner as though he were the first man ever to make a baby, and she was looking up at him with an expression that was nothing short of adoration. He closed his eyes for a moment as she explained Halloween and their anniversary and the house and how happy he had made her with the surprise. Unable to bear the pain of looking at the picture, he turned the album pages again.

Dana in the hospital before she gave birth...God, she had been huge. He thought about the story she had told him the night before. Then he had found it amusing if unlikely, but looking at the size of her, he suddenly found the idea revolting. Then there was an actual photo of the baby being born that somehow someone had managed to snap...

"That was Brenda," said Dana quietly. "We don't have one of Patrick. He was totally unexpected. I mean I thought I was done and all of a sudden...wham bam...bonus baby."

He turned the page again...two infants right after birth. He knew Patrick immediately. The infant was small and battered, but the face was his. This was followed by a few more baby pictures and Christening photos including one of him lying on a blanket with the two babies asleep, one on his chest and one next to him. Unable to bear it any longer, he snapped the album shut. He had looked so happy in those pictures. It couldn't be him. It just couldn't...not with Sam still gone and the truth not known.

Dana was looking at him in alarm.

"My head hurts," he snapped. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll bring you one of your pills."

"I don't want any damned pills..."

"Fox, you need to rest and the medication helps. Trust me on this...okay?"

"I don't see why I should, Scully. I mean, it's not like any of this could be real or anything. I'm going to wake up tomorrow and all this is going to be gone." He knew it wasn't true. It was all too real and he was trapped domesticity. He told himself he would have to adjust, have to get used to it, but he would never believe that he had chosen it willingly. He turned away from the beautiful woman who was supposed to be his wife so that she wouldn't see the tears that were forming in his eyes. A part of him wanted it all to be true, but it just wasn't possible.

Later that night when he felt Dana get into bed with him, he ignored her even though he was not fully asleep. He found himself longing for his dumpy apartment and his old leather couch. At least that had been real.

The Next Day

When he was 12, Fox had come to love Aunt Sophia.

Whereas most adolescents would have been embarrassed to death by her loud voice, the bright colorful gypsy clothes she wore in public, the tacky rings and the harsh loud New York accent she affected when the spirit moved her, he had thought it was great. She was witty and intelligent and just nuts enough to appreciate his own eccentricities. Of course, he hadn't had much choice in the matter. It had either been Aunt Sophia or back to the children's center and he sure hadn't wanted to go back there, not after what the older bigger boys had done to him. He shuddered at the thought then pushed it away. She had been his savior.

"Now, Mulder, you've got to pet Thing or he will just keep on bothering you..." she informed her nephew. She was making every effort to treat him normally and hide her worry. The atmosphere in the house was not right. All the love was gone. She could feel it. "He knows you can't stand him, and he is as obstinate as you."

"Oh, joy." He patted the dog. Dana had gone to work for a few hours and Aunt Sophia had come up to watch the children. Thank God. He certainly wasn't about to. Every time he started to think they were sweet, they turned into little terrors. Once he had petted Thing, the other two mutts started looking for attention too.

"Where the hell did these goddamned mutts come from anyway?" he asked, "And that bird..."

Sophia laughed out loud. "Well, from what Dana tells me, she inherited Thing from someone who committed suicide on a case...Bruckman I think was the name. He inherited the dog from the old lady up the hall who died. Apparently Thing is a little cannibal...ate the body or something..."

"Oh, God...Aunt Sophia..." He rolled his eyes.

Sounded typical though...real X-Filish. Well, if the man had left the dog to Scully he had been smart because he knew he would have dumped it at the pound ASAP. He could picture the little bastard eating his body. He had never liked Pomeranians anyway. Damned peeing shitting furballs was what they were.

"Well, apparently you were bending over with the pooper scooper one night when Thing slipped his leash and got Mrs. Thing here in trouble. Caused quite a stir when the owner dropped her off with her litter. Everyone thought there was a bomb in the picnic basket that they were brought in. The bomb squad was called and it turned out to be little It and his siblings."

Sophia laughed. "Jeez, I thought Walter might rip your head off there for awhile, but he was very understanding in the end. A good man."

Again he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't have kept these mutts."

"What made you think you had anything to say about it?"

she smirked. "Thing was already here, and we weren't about to let you put mama and babies on the street. I like them, and Margaret just loves her two to death. I'll tell you something, Mulder. You and Skinner raced him down to the vet for THE OPERATION in record time." She laughed. "You both came back holding your balls, but the dog has since stayed out of trouble. He even stopped peeing on your shoes. As for the foul mouthed bird, you bought him for Dana for her birthday." Sophia sighed. "I really should have let you get a parrot like you wanted when you were a boy, but I didn't want to be tied down with a pet."

"You got tied down with me," he said quietly.

"That's different. You're my family. Family is important Fox. Don't ever forget that."

Mulder looked up at the mantel. He decided it was time to change the subject. "That old fashioned portrait is interesting. Where did Dana and I have that taken?"

"Oh, that's not you and Dana. That is Dana's grandmother with her first husband Wolf Patrick Muldoon, your grandfather's brother. Small world isn't it?"

"No," he said getting up suddenly, "No...not small...insane.

How could that be? Jeez...next you'll be telling me Gran's ghost came back to haunt me."

"Actually, Dana tells me that she heard her grandmother laugh the night the children were conceived," said Sophia.

"Scully...scully would never say anything like that." His head started to hurt and he got to his feet. It had been a mistake to come downstairs and talk to his aunt. She was crazy. He should have stayed in bed. Patrick came over to him and wrapped arms around his leg, but he pushed the child away. He went toward the stairs. A part of him felt guilty ignoring the little boy's cries, but he ignored it. The pain in his head was starting to overwhelm him.

"It's a lot to take in, Fox," admonished Sophia gently as he walked away. "Where you are now, you aren't used to being loved. You will be. You'll get used to being loved again. You aren't going to have a choice. We are all going to love you no matter what. We are all your family now, even Walter."

"Yeah...right," he muttered and continued on. The older woman sighed. Things were going to be very difficult.

Her nephew was not cooperative or accepting by nature.

She thought about Dana who had insisted upon returning to work. Poor Dana, ever conscientious about her job, was in for a very hard time again. Fox wasn't going to do anything to make this adjustment process easier for her. Sophia hoped against hope that Fox would regain his memory quickly. It broke her heart to see the look on Patrick's face when Fox had pushed him away and Brenda...Brenda was already withdrawing. She had caught the child talking to her teddy bear..."no dada...no dada..." Both the kids were entirely too smart for their own good. They came to her and she gave them both a big hug.

All the potential was there for Fox to start acting like his father if he was stressed enough. He had been that abused when he was young. For his family's sake she hoped that wouldn't happen. So far, he had pretty much avoided falling into that trap working things out with Dana's help, learning to control that dark side of his nature, but with the head injury and possible subtle brain damage, who knew.

The work week finally passed and Dana was relieved.

Although she had tried to get things back into a normal routine, it just wasn't working. Fox wanted little or nothing to do with the kids, and she didn't want to ask any more of Aunt Sophia who had done so much already. With Aislinn gone...hell it never rained but it poured which was exactly what it was doing outside now.

She cringed when the doorbell rang. She didn't think she could deal with visitors and she still had to go to the grocery store, but it was too early to put the kids to bed.

She felt overwhelmed and asked Fox to get the door.

He opened it and two young women rushed him nearly knocking him over in their exuberance to hug him.

"Oh, Fox," said one, "Thank God you are okay."

"We've come to help you remember," announced the other.

"We wanted to come when you were in the hospital but we had all these stupid exams."

He blinked and then realized that he was looking at his twin sisters, Jennie and Amy, only somehow they had gotten all grown up and seemed to think they were a part of his life.

"Um, what are you doing here?" he inquired. There explanation about coming to help him remember didn't quite cut it. His mom and stepfather had never allowed him around the girls much.

"We have a long weekend and decided we needed a break from partying," said Jen. "No exams, no papers due and a big brother with amnesia."

"But..." he spluttered.

"Well, you do remember us," said Jennie adamantly. At that point Dana came back from the kitchen where she had been attempting to escape whoever it might be and saw them.

"Hi girls." She smiled. She was glad to see them.

"Dana..." they hugged her. "We're here to set Fox straight on a few things."

"Don't worry. We headed mom off at the pass," grinned Amanda. "Convinced her that she should go ahead with her charity bazaar and that we had things under control in DC."

"Thanks, girls." Dana sighed with relief. The last thing she wanted was Teena mooning around right now and the girls were always fun when they came for a visit. If nothing else they would take Fox's mind off his troubles. They always stayed downstairs with Sophia who adored them. Even though they weren't blood relatives to her, they were blood to her beloved nephew and she treated them accordingly, and suspected Dana, enjoyed feeding their computer hacking habit.

The babies came toddling in and grinned when they saw the girls. Dana realized with a start that she shouldn't have turned her back on them. She really was tired.

"There's our godchildren!" Little ones were scooped up and turned upside down and tickled while Mulder watched in astonishment trying to remember when this had happened.

The effort made his head hurt even more.

"Dana," said Amy, "You must really have your hands full.

Why don't you go run errands or do whatever you need to do. We'll watch the kids and keep big brother in line here."

"Yeah," said Jennie. "Ames just learned to make spaghetti sauce. We'll even make you dinner if you haven't eaten."

"God, you two are angels." She smiled. "I really do have to get some groceries in. We've eaten but I might take you up on that offer tomorrow."

"Patrick still eating for 10?"

"Always..." Dana slipped her jacket on and grabbed her purse. "Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. I'll be back."

Amy and Jen sat on the couch with a bottle of coke and a pack of oreos. Jen gave a big slug to Patrick.

"Uh...I don't think you are supposed to do that," said Fox.

"I mean Dana wouldn't..."

"Dana's not here." Jen grinned at him. He winced. The girls bore a distinct resemblance to the Samantha clone.

"That's sneaky," he said.

"Sure, but living with mom and dad we learned sneaky at a very early age," she grinned.

"It's genetic," stated Amy looking directly into his eyes. He had to throw his head back and laugh. He hadn't done that and ages. Something told him that these two had grown into real chips off the old block in spite of his mother's best efforts to keep his influence at bay.

"Well, I just hope in your current state of mental moldiness you aren't being nasty to Dana the way you were on Martha's Vineyard." said Jenny bluntly.

"Was I nasty to Dana on Martha's Vineyard?"

"Yeah, and if Senator what's his face hadn't shot you, we might have done it ourselves," grinned Amy. She didn't'

seem to care that Brenda was spreading oreo covered hands all over her shirt.

He knew there was a file on a case he had worked on Martha's Vineyard. It was in his briefcase, but he hadn't read it yet. It had been the first time he had worked with Both, or if Both could be believed, against him. He wasn't certain yet whether or not Both could be believed. The agent had stopped by briefly to see how he was doing and Mulder had found him likable, but it was tough to believe that he was sometimes partnered with this man when Scully couldn't get away.

"Mom was going through her I hate Dana because she is a whore phase," said Amy, "so you neglected to mention to her that you were married to Dana. Then when you were sent to the Vineyard when all those bodies were found, the shit really hit the fan..."

"Sit...sit...sit..." muttered Brenda.

"Now you've done it, Ames," laughed Jenny. She punched her sister's arm.

"So mom has this dinner party and sets you up with cousin Irene who really had the hots for you. Jeez...we thought she was going to come down on you right on the patio.

Hell, we thought you were going to..."

"Never mind what we thought," said Jenny. "We were relieved when you didn't."

"So, if mom didn't know I was married how did you know?" he asked, "And how do you know what cousin Irene did or didn't do?"

"Why we were spying on you, of course," explained Amy.

"It's what we do best," continued Jenny. She looked at her brother. "It wasn't an accident you know."

"What wasn't an accident?"

"Your accident of course, dummy. They really are out to get you. Wouldn't surprise me if they didn't drug you somehow before y ou got behind the wheel of your car."

"Jenny," he sighed feeling really bewildered at this pair in front of him, "there is no evidence of that, believe me. It's been checked. Paranoid as I am, Dana and I both agree this was just a stupid accident. How would you know people are out to get me anyway?"

"We have our sources," replied Jenny enigmatically.

"Besides, that guy with the cigarettes who showed up at Aunt Margaret's wedding and the babies' Christening gave us the creeps. We picked up one of his cigarette butts and tested them for prints. Do you know that they are no where to be found? Not event the FBI..."

"Shut up, Jenny," said Amy. "Jeez, you'll get us arrested yet."

"Hey, it's Fox we are talking to..."

"Girls," he said suddenly, "whatever you've been up to, I want you to stop. Do you hear me? I want you to stop."

These two were alarming him, really scaring him. He might have said more except that Aunt Sophia chose that moment to walk in the door. She had the dogs with her, and the noise levels rose to unbearable levels. He was shocked at how glad Sophia was to see his half sisters. He left them and went upstairs to lay down his head throbbing once again. He had a feeling that before the weekend was out, his sisters were going to leave him exhausted. They seemed to have an unlimited amount of energy.

Chapter 8

Dana slipped into her work clothes and sighed deeply. Fox had been out of the hospital for nearly three weeks now and things were going from bad to worse. His headaches hadn't dissipated. If anything, they had gotten worse. He had gone for more tests but they had shown up nothing...no abnormalities...no sign of brain damage...nothing...and yet he was in constant pain, pain that grew worse when he tried to remember. It broke her heart to see him suffer so, but he had become so difficult to live with that it was getting harder and harder for her to keep her temper in check. At times she could see him trying to be his old self, trying to be good with the kids, and perhaps that was the only reason she had been able to do so. She would catch him looking at her with the old softness in his eyes, or studying the children with a tender look, but then he would see her watching and he would turn away. Those times were becoming fewer and fewer, however, and now he would become annoyed when she would try to tell him stories about what had happened during the time he had forgotten.

Worse yet, Fox had wanted to go back to work and Skinner had refused to allow it, rightly so in Dana's opinion. The tension between the two men had grown unbearable and she was caught in the middle. It was yet another thing that caused her pain, seeing the way the relationship between the two men had totally fallen apart. The last time he had spoken to Walter, Walter had told her in disgust that he thought it was time she give him a good kick in the ass and doctors be damned. Apparently, he just had and Dana supposed she didn't blame the man.

Dana went into the bathroom where Fox stood wrapped in a towel. He had just come out of the shower. He had known that she needed to finish getting ready for work but still he had...well...that could be forgiven she supposed despite the fact that she felt it had been deliberate inconsideration. God, he looked incredible. She wished she could forget about the office and that he would turn around and rip her business suit off her and push her down on the bed and do all sorts of things with her. He had no interest in her sexually though. She sighed...The office...she had promised to bring him home more files to work with, but she knew it wasn't going to satisfy him for very long. Sometimes she felt pulled in every which direction, pathologist...sort of wife...mother...Sometimes she just wanted to chuck it all and run. She knew she couldn't though so instead Dana went up behind him and put a hand gently on his back as he lathered his face with shaving cream. Maybe this time she could get through to him. He had always had his dark side but in the end it had never won out. Now she was losing her faith that she would ever see the man she had fallen in love with again.

He shrugged her hand away.

"Can't a man have a little privacy?" he asked her. "Jeez...a man can't even pee in peace around here." Yesterday it had been Brenda staring at him. The day before Patrick had come barging in when he had been doing more than just peeing. He was sick of it.

"You're covered," she smiled, "Unfortunately."

"Oh, and what exactly does that mean?"

"Only that I kinda miss you uncovered...big boy," she replied flirtatiously. "I got kinda used to you, you know.

Not much we didn't do. Well, except for one thing...one thing you would never let me do..."

"What?" he asked not really being certain that he wanted to know. He just wanted to shave...alone. He wanted to shave and get out of the house even if it was just to go to a session at Roberta's, not that therapy was helping him in anyway. Even hypnosis wasn't breaking through the amnesia. In fact, when she had tried it reluctantly at his request, the pain in his head had gotten so bad she had been forced to bring him out of the session and had called Dana to come and get him.

"This," she replied grabbing his razor quickly and with a giggle trying to shave his cheek. "You would never let me do..."

As the razor touched him, he shoved her hand away so violently he ended up getting nicked in the process. The razor flew out of her hand and across the room.

"Don't do that. Don't ever do that," he snapped.

"But...but...why?" She felt a little bewildered. He would never talk to her about it. He never had and of course that had only increased her curiosity.

"Because I said so," he snapped, "And don't use my amnesia as an excuse to snoop either...do you hear me?"

He looked at her angrily. He knew that she agreed with Skinner about not allowing him to return to work, but he was slowly going crazy at home.

"You're bleeding, Fox," she said quietly. She took the washcloth but before she could touch him he took it away and pressed it to his face.

"When I was a little girl and I used to love to watch my daddy shave and..." she began.

"Well, I'm not your father."

"That isn't fair, Fox," she replied moving towards the door.

Best to leave him alone.

"Life's not fair, Scully," he replied, "and if you really want to know, when you were missing I worked a case in California. I met a woman. Before I went down on her, she shaved me and nicked my face. While you were God knows where having done God knows what done to you I was going down on a woman on her bathroom floor. She was damned good too. Now you know. Does it make you feel better?"

"Yes," she replied stubbornly although the way he had said it hurt, "Yes, it does because now I know." She turned and walked away from him. She knew that the old Fox would have felt guilty about it and that was why he would never discuss it and why he would never let her shave him. She was sorry she had asked now.

He watched her go and was suddenly overwhelmed sadness. When they had been partners they had disagreed and bickered and argued, and sometimes he knew he had been mean to her, but not like he had been this morning.

The trouble was he had so much wanted to let her shave him, wanted her to touch him, but his head just hurt so much and if he tried to make love to her, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to. And, he had never wanted her to know what had happened in California while she was missing.

What he had done made him sick. Why the hell had he been so mean to her?

Dana was scheduled to be off the next day and reluctantly she picked up the phone. She was reaching the breaking point, the point where she did not know what to do anymore. Finally she dialed a number.

"Hello, Roberta," she said quietly, "It's Dana Scully."

"Hi, Dana...how are you?"

"I'm holding on. Could we...could we maybe meet for lunch tomorrow? I'm off and I really need to talk to someone..."

"Of course, Dana..."

Dana put down the phone with shaky hands and tried to concentrate on the report she was supposed to be writing.

She was sitting in Fox's office just to be near him spiritually at least. She wondered what had happened to Both. He had gone to New York ostensibly to visit his mother and sisters, she knew but if he had come back, she hadn't seen him. Well, technically Mulder was his supervisor. Perhaps he had gotten touch with Walter. She hoped that nothing bad had happened to Both's mom. He was such a good man. Finally she forced herself to focus on her report.

The Next Afternoon

Dana struggled to open the restaurant door with the double stroller. A kind person finally held it for her as she pushed the two babies into the restaurant. She spotted Roberta sitting in a booth toward the back and was grateful that the psychiatrist had chosen a place that was family friendly and where they would have suitable food for the children. She was glad that there appeared to be plenty of room. The worst of the lunch crowd was now gone. Although the woman looked startled to see her with the children for an instant, she smiled and waved.

"Will you need a high chair, madam?" asked the host.

"Two actually," she replied with a smile, "and a lot of crackers or bread quickly." She pushed the stroller near Roberta.

"Good to see you, Roberta," said Dana slipping off her coat and taking jackets off of babies and piling them on the seat of the booth.

"You too, Dana," replied the older woman. "Hello, Brenda.

Hello, Patrick." Patrick wiggled and waved smiling happily. Brenda studied the older woman carefully.

"Looks like you're a flirt like your daddy," Roberta grinned chucking him under the chin. "You certainly are as handsome, big fella. You are thoughtful like your mommy, Brenda."

They really were adorable children, physically beautiful and Roberta knew that that made a big difference in self esteem later on. People reacted positively to physical beauty in young children. It was sad, but plainer babies didn't quite get as much attention, sad because there was really no such thing as a "plain" baby. Well, it wasn't a problem the Mulder children would ever have. If things didn't change soon, they might have other problems, but a lack of physical beauty wasn't going to be one of them.

The high chairs arrived and Dana got both of them settled.

"I'm sorry I had to bring them, Roberta. Aunt Sophia takes such good care of them while I work that I don't like to ask her for special favors if I'm off. She really is a jewel."

"That's all right, Dana." It would have been easier and preferable to talk without the distraction of the little ones, but a woman had to do what she had to do.

Crackers were brought and orders placed quickly. It didn't do to spend a lot of time in restaurants with young ones.

"You look tired, Dana," said Roberta softly. "How are things at home?"

She started out to say that they were just fine. That was her pat answer, what she always did instinctively, but she sensed that it wouldn't work here, that Roberta already knew they were miserable.

"Not easy," replied Dana softly looking at her husband's old friend and mentor.

"He's not an easy man, and he isn't taking this well."

Dana liked that. The woman was honest and direct and wasn't about to waste her time with psychobabble. She handed each child a cracker. Patrick stuffed his in his mouth. Brenda studied hers and then let out a shriek when her brother tried to snatch it...not that she wanted to eat it.

As everyone turned to look at them, Dana shushed them both and tossed her son another cracker.

"This one is a non stop consumer of food, and the other one thinks it is something to be analyzed to death," she sighed pointing at her daughter. "Roberta, I'm worried about him...Mulder...Fox I mean. He vacillates between accepting us and anger but mostly anger...and the headaches...well, they get worse when he tries to remember or tries to accept us."

Roberta nodded. "Yes, the headaches are a major concern. I have recommended that he have yet another cat scan. I keep hoping something that will show up. Of course, he argues, but then he always did." She managed a smile.

"I can handle him," said Dana. The waiter came and put food down in front of her. She immediately began cutting up pieces of the burger she had ordered for Patrick and put it on a plate with fries. Brenda got one fry.

"I know you can," smiled Roberta watching in alarm as more of the lunch when on Patrick's plate. There was something about the way Dana said "him" that implied there were things she couldn't handle.

"Aren't you going to eat, Dana?" asked the older woman gently.

"I'll have some salad. I'm not very hungry these days. I worry all the time about the children...He doesn't...Fox doesn't like them very much, Roberta. Before, he was crazy about them. I mean it was a little hard at first with the boy, because of his background and everything, but then they bonded and his Wally Wolf was his pride and joy,. but now it's like...well...they don't have a father anymore. He looks like daddy. He smells like daddy, but he doesn't act like daddy. He's cranky and impatient.

Brenda is withdrawing from him more and more. She keeps saying no da da Patrick doesn't talk yet really, but now he cries all the time and has tantrums."

Roberta looked sadly at the younger woman. Fox had loved her so much. That much Roberta knew, had known since he had come to her during the time that his partner had been gone, abducted. Not even Fox had realized then how far gone he was in love with the tiny redhead that sat before her now.

"I think at this point, they just don't feel like his children," said the older psychologist. He has to rebond with them from the beginning."

"I know that, but he isn't even trying. No that isn't true exactly. He kind of tried at first, but..." Dana forced herself to eat a bit of salad and sipped the ice tea she had ordered. Patrick immediately started waving his arms. She held the glass up for him. Half the tea was gone in a minute. She signaled the waiter for more. "I mean, he works at being civil with me most of the time...some of the time... but...I don't know..."

"It's hard," conceded Roberta. She remembered the time she had had dinner at the Mulder house and had caught the two of them in the kitchen. Fox had had his arms around his wife and they had been kissing...so obviously in love, madly passionately in love.

"Yeah...I feel so selfish...I'm trying to be endlessly patient but I'm running out. I don't know how much longer I can handle this without losing it completely." Dana felt her eyes tear over and forced herself to remain in control. The kids didn't need to witness their mother falling apart. Not now. Already Patrick had picked up on the change of her expression and was looking alarmed. Neither did Roberta or the restaurant patrons. Roberta watched the struggle compassionately. This tiny redhead was nothing but good for her old friend and protege.

Roberta sensed that there was something else on her mind and waited quietly for Dana to finish.

"He won't sleep with me," Dana heard herself blurt out suddenly. She hated herself. Roberta was acting in the role of Fox's therapist and Dana knew that there was a lot that she wouldn't discuss. Ethically she couldn't. As a physician, Dana knew this. She knew she should find her own therapist. She hated the thought of doing so however.

She sure didn't want to use one at the Bureau as she had before. Dr. Kossof was an excellent therapist, but word of their sessions had leaked somehow after the Donnie Pfaster thing. He hadn't suspected the doctor, however, she had always been reluctant to go back after that.

"It's going to take some time, Dana," said Roberta softly.

She smiled slightly. "He respects you." She had already known that he was not sleeping with her...well he was, but that was all he was doing.

"I don't want his respect. I want...never mind..."

"Your relationship was very physical wasn't it?"

"Once we were married...Oh, Roberta, we were always touching. We had to hide the way we felt about each other so long, and when we could finally express our love...I don't want to talk about it." Patrick was looking for more food. Roberta watched in astonishment as he began to demolish another pile of fries. Brenda was working on her third...fry that is. Slowly.

"So," said Scully, "what was he like as a younger man, this lunatic husband of mine?" She managed a smile and another bite of salad.

"Brilliant. A genius in fact." The older woman chuckled.

"There is frequently a very slim line between genius and insanity. Mulder walks it."

"Next you'll be telling me he was obsessed with his sister," Dana chuckled.

"Definitely...even then. He was also a real...excuse the expression, wise ass. He never knew when to keep his mouth shut. Basically he ran rings around his professors and succeeded in setting their teeth on edge, particularly the males. He had a real problem with authority figures.

He also had an incredible sense of humor. Dry, frequently self deprecating. I always suspected he'd been an abused child."

"He was," said Dana sadly. She told him what she knew.

"Worse yet, I think something happened when he was at the children's shelter. He won't talk about that at all, but Sophia rescued him and she is just insane enough herself to be what he needed."

"You love her don't you?"

"Can't help it. Plus, she and mom have become great friends. Fox adores her. I guess, well, I guess...Phoebe Greene wasn't very good for him."

"Phoebe Greene is the most manipulative female I have ever met."

"Bitch," said Dana with a wicked grin. "I've met her. I know from first hand experience."

Roberta looked startled for a moment. Then she laughed.

"Yes...bitch." she agreed. "Not very scientifically put, but accurate. Seriously though, she was the worst thing that could have happened to a sensitive soul like Fox. Broke his heart. It was a long time until he trusted anyone again. I don't think he ever really did until you came along, but you couldn't warn him. In his mind, Phoebe could do no wrong.

I don't know what finally happened, but I was pleased when they broke up."

"The bitch two timed him," replied Dana.

"Itch...Itch..." Brenda started singing.

"Early speech development," sighed Dana. "Last week everything was uck Picked it up from her non da da when he stepped on some blocks. The week before it was sit which started right after Fox's twin sisters left. Kids never seem to learn good habits from the people around them do they? I guess I better be going. Mulder Junior here is getting antsy. You don't want to be around him if he is late for his nap. He's so much like his dad it's uncanny."

Dana called for the check and insisted on paying for it. She began to slip on jackets.

"Dana," said Roberta as the woman rose to put the kids in their stroller. "When you get home I want you to eat something...hear me? You won't do anyone any good if you collapse, least of all Fox. I want you to eat and put your feet up and try to rest. If you need anything, or ever want to talk, you know my number."

"Thanks, Roberta," she replied. "I'll try to convince Fox that he needs another cat scan although let's face it it probably won't show anything."

"Perhaps. And, keep trying to be patient with him at least a while longer. Your love is the only thing that is going to get him through this."

Dana nodded and left. She promised herself she would try and try again if need be. The trouble was that in the past, patience with Fox hadn't done any good. The only thing that had worked when he got thick headed was a figurative kick in the ass and a threat to leave him for good. The trouble was she was afraid if she tried it now, he would be grateful and leave.

Chapter 9

Dewayne Bothrington sat in the living room of the apartment where he had grown up. It consisted of four railroad rooms in a beat up old six family house in Harlem.

As a child, the roof had leaked nearly as much as the plumbing and the paint had been peeling off the walls.

When they were lucky they had gotten heat. His father had died when he was but two. He had been an outside child and his parents hadn't married, but his mother had always assured him that his father had been a good man and had cared for him. His real wife couldn't have any children, and she had been very sick. Both knew he bore his father's last name despite the lack of a wedding ceremony. As a decent man, he had not been able to abandon his sic wife, and yet he had loved his outside family very much. After his death, his mother had eventually married a man who had given her three daughters in quick succession and plenty of black and blue marks. She had accepted her beatings stoically until the day his stepfather had laid a hand on her only son. Ronetta had thrown him out of the house , but being a poor black woman who could barely read and write, she had been reduced to welfare until the children were all in school and then, determined to be independent, she had gone to work as a maid cleaning hotel rooms. There had never been another man in her life. She had, she once told Both, learned her lesson well. A woman didn't get two in her life as good as his daddy had been.

She forgot the companionship that a relationship should bring and focused her dreams on her children.

The apartment looked better now. Since he had gone to work for the Bureau he had made certain that it was kept painted and the plumbing stayed fixed. He had even paid to have the toilet moved from the hall into the kitchen although he hadn't been able to do much to enclose the bathtub. He didn't want his sisters to have to go outside at night when they had to use the facilities. When they wanted to bath everyone still had to stay out of the kitchen though and a shower was out of the question. It wasn't always easy financially, but he had learned to live frugally and Mulder had helped him find a reasonable apartment, not an easy thing in Washington DC.

"I really am feeling much better Dew..." she said to her only son. Dew was a silly pet name. When he had been a little boy she had lifted him in the air and told him he was as sweet as morning dew on grass. He hadn't entirely understood back then. At that time, he had not seen much grass and never dew, but he had liked the name anyway because it had been mama's special name for him. "It was just a bad cold."

"I'm glad to hear that, mama," he said with a smile. "Still, there is something I have to do in New York and I told my boss that you were sick."

"Well I was so it isn't a lie exactly. You know I don't hold with no lyin..."

Both reached into his pocket for his checkbook. Before he forgot, he wanted to write the check for his sister's tuition.

"Won't need that no more, Dew," she smiled.

"Mama...you didn't put the girls in public school did you?"

He demanded. The New York City Public Schools were war zones. The street was a war zone too but he liked knowing that his sisters were safe at least during school hours. The influence in the Catholic High School they attended was much better. The parents who sent their kids there were not the sort as a rule who let their kids run the streets. The tuition was high but there was a break for his two younger sisters.

"Course not, Dew..." she said. "Your sisters will go to college like you. A lawyer man came to the school and set up scholarships and your sister's won them...all three of my girls." She smiled widely. "Can you imagine...all my babies smart and winning scholarships? It pay for everything...even the uniforms and Sister Elizabeth tell me that there be enough to see the girls go to college too...After all those years of struggle..."

Both had never heard of a scholarship like that before. It sounded almost too good to be true. When something sounded that way, it usually was, especially here, especially in the ghetto across the street from the projects. He vowed to check it out but he kept that to himself. No need to alarm mama just yet.

"Then with that prize I won..."

"What prize, mama?"

"A prize...I got a letter...a contest. Don't remember enterin no contest...no time with work and all...but...it said I won a magazine contest and now I even have a savings account for when times get rough...not a lot...but somethin for when I can't work no more. I did read a magazine..."

Scholarships...a contest...yes...he would definitely check it out.

"I have to ask you something Mama," he said. His mother may not have had much education. Perhaps she could barely read the New York Daily News, but she had always been wise in a peasant's way and had always had dreams for her children and she absorbed everything they told her from school. Slowly and carefully he told her about his supervisor at work and the conversation he had had on the street. He hesitated a bit, but his mother knew how to be circumspect and keep her mouth shut which was part of the reason she heard things.

"That be Killer Dog," she said thoughtfully. "Saw you talking. Didn't like it much. That Killer Dog...always were a bad boy. He dead the next day. Shot..."

She considered her son's story carefully. "They be experimentin on brother's again Dew," she said softly. "I knows it. I hears things on the street too and Tamika tell me one of the boys in her class...he foolish and steal a car.

He get bad influenced. He have an accident and after...he can't remember. Nothin be wrong...but he can't remember..." She studied her son. She would worry about him now. He was the FBI and he would investigate this, but she didn't trust the FBI much...not here...not in Harlem...maybe not anywhere just one part of the FBI...just her son.

"So what do you think I should do about my boss, mama?"

he asked after admonishing her not to mention to his sister Tamika or Anandi or Star either that he had been asking.

"Why you want to help this white man Dew?"

"Because this white man is different, mama...this white man and his wife...they went after the Teliko in Philadelphia when no one else cared."

Ronetta nodded thoughtfully. "You help this white man maybe you help your own kind too. You say you have his blood?"

"Yes, mama..."

"You takes it to Sister Nia...you takes it now..."

Both walked into the small dark shop that sold statues of saints and candles and herbs. The elderly Sister Nia stood behind the counter. She had a smile for him. It was a secret smile.

Ronetta had been born in Jamaica although she had come to the US at a young age. She had been raised Catholic...had always been Catholic in spite of her relationship with Both's dad and had raised her children the same, but she had a secret with her son, a secret that he had discovered accidentally, and that was that his mama, in order to cover all her bases, had always made her offerings to Shango too...just in case. Sister Nia was definitely not a nun, a good woman, but it was not to the Church of Rome that she belonged despite the lovely statues of saints and votives that she sold in her shop.

He gave her the blood. "I need to know what is in this blood, Sister," he said. "Mama told me to come to you."

She held the vial in her hands and closed her eyes.

"This is the white man's blood," she said. He didn't question how she knew. This strange old woman had always known things.

"This is the blood of the man who defeated Teliko. He is very sick. He cannot remember."

She nodded thoughtfully. "He was in a car accident."

"Yes..."

"Too many...too many. Shango is very angry. You leave it with me. I will find out."

"I told my mother and I will tell you. It could be dangerous. Say nothing to anyone."

"Shango will watch out for me."

Both left the small shop with a bad full of candles some herb tea for his mama and some chocolate for his sisters feeling as though he had set something in motion although he wasn't certain what. He thought the stuff about Shango was a lot of nonsense himself although he respected Sister as a herbalist. Actually, he thought being a Catholic was too, but kids needed to believe in something and they ran a good school system so he kept his mouth shut. He walked along the street looking at the depressing buildings that were the projects. He had been considered lucky. he hadn't lived in them. Even though there had never been enough to eat when he was a child, he had been spared the projects.

He wondered what Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner would think if they knew that one of their prize agents had often stolen food from the vegetable stands...had roasted potatoes they had lifted in fires started in trash cans. He wasn't proud of it, but he had done what he needed to do to survive. As long as mama never found out...he chuckled.

Bothrington got the name of the foundation that had provided the scholarships for his sisters. The principal of St. Theresa's School assured him that she had checked it out thoroughly and that it was legitimate. She had been reluctant to reveal more since it was supposed to be anonymous, but Dewayne Bothrington was an FBI Agent.

Maybe something was wrong after all. They had been paid through a Foundation that was headed by a woman named Sophia Muldovsky and awarded by a small but registered publishing company. Six children had gotten the scholarships...three girls and three boys, but it had been requested that the scholarships be granted to his sisters and she had been glad to do it.

"I didn't do wrong did I Mr. Bothrington?" she asked.

"Your mother is such a good woman and the girls are so smart..."

"No," he smiled quietly. "You didn't do wrong. Feel free to accept any additional scholarships that might come your way through this foundation." Mulder, he decided, worked in strange ways. He'd done some checking on Mulder's background on the QT. The man was amazing. He never advertised his wealth, but he certainly did have money. He would remain silent of course. If Mulder wanted anonymity that was okay with him. If the students did well, perhaps more aid would be given. The neighborhood needed all the help it could get. Any children that were saved were a blessing. That Sophia...she was something else again.

He left the school. It had taken him longer to get out than he wanted but Sister Elizabeth had insisted that he come and talk to some of the classes and what could he say. It was almost time to go home. Time to change and prowl the projects asking questions...quietly...discreetly...but there was something else he had to do first.

Bothrington knew he wasn't going home in two days. He knew he wasn't going home until he solved this. He wouldn't call. That was too dangerous. He hopped on a bus and went downtown to a bar...an upscale bar where you could send e-mail. He wouldn't send a message to Scully or Skinner. He began to type.

"Walter," said Margaret looking up from her computer, "I've got the oddest e-mail message on my screen."

Walter Skinner looked at his wife. She wore an expression of consternation. Little alarm bells went off in his head.

Although he had learned to keep his feelings to himself, he had never felt comfortable about his wife netsurfing. He got up and went over to look.

Hello from Aunt B in the Big Apple

I've shopped till I'm ready to drop and found some wonderful and interesting bargains. ROFL...yeah...I found more than I bargained for. Having such a good time I've decided to stay a little longer.

Cyberhugs
Aunt B

Margaret was very surprised to hear her husband laugh out loud. She had expected him to be alarmed or annoyed.

She knew he didn't approve of the time she spent on aol chit chatting with other late life mom's over the modem and reading UFO Chaser fanfic which she found hysterical.

Sometimes Walter was terribly alarmist.

"I'm glad Aunt B is having a good time," he said giving her a kiss on the cheek. "If you get any more messages from her, you make sure that you show them to me. Now you go ahead and delete that."

Walter took himself into the kitchen and chuckled. "God bless Agent Bothrington," he thought. It would seem that the man was as resourceful as that nutcase son-in-law of his had been before his amnesia. Also, he seemed to have found something, something that might help Mulder regain his memory.

Chapter 10

Fox watched Dana come out of the bathroom and sighed internally. She looked so beautiful in the soft yellow nightgown she wore with her hair hanging below her shoulders. It had gotten longer again and during the day she wore it up. He wished his head would stop hurting, wished that she really felt like his wife, wished he could remember, but he couldn't. He hoped that she wouldn't try to kiss him or anything. As much as he would have liked...had fantasized about making love to her in the past, he knew he couldn't do it. It just wouldn't work. He knew his body wouldn't allow it, or that his mind wouldn't.

Even though he had seen the videos and the photos and the babies...nothing rang true in his head anymore, nothing...nothing except the fact that his sister was still missing and he wanted to look for her and Skinner wouldn't let him return to work...nothing except that his head hurt almost all the time now and he was reaching the point where he couldn't bear the pain anymore. Dana had been talking with the doctor about cutting back his medication thinking that perhaps he was having rebound headaches from it, but as much as he hated taking it, he didn't think he would be able to get out of bed without it.

She got into bed next to him, and as he feared, she moved close to him. He had rejected her enough times that he hoped she would take the hint and leave him alone, but she never seemed to give up. He thought that maybe he wasn't being fair. He supposed he should have been grateful that she was still interested after the way he had treated her when she had tried to shave him, but it just didn't feel right and she didn't seem to want to understand. For a few days she had kept her distance, but now she was sending him distinct signals, signals he told himself he couldn't act on.

Dana switched off the light and reached over giving his lips a gentle kiss. He turned his face away and she sighed audibly. She wanted him so badly.

Although it was not all that she wanted, Dana would have settled for an arm wrapped around her, or some little sign of affection, but not even that was forthcoming. He eased his arm behind his head to escape her touch and she saw her chance.

Fox realized immediately he had made a mistake in moving his arm as he had. All his adult life there had been an area just below his arm pit that had just about driven him mad when a woman kissed him there. He never told women about it, but when they discovered it

accident...jeez...it could bring him to ecstasy almost itself and Dana knew. She knew and she was kissing him there her lips teasing him seductively. It would be easy, so easy just to role over and get on top of her... His body was responding to her kisses. So much for the theory that he couldn't.

He could, he realized, but he wouldn't. With one quick motion he pushed her away from him. Not even he fully understood this need he had to "respect" her, or why he couldn't just do with her what he would have with any other woman who made advances like that. Dana didn't want to be respected. Hell, she wanted to get laid, badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Dana caught herself before she slipped off the bed entirely.

He felt badly. He hadn't meant to shove her that hard, but somehow it didn't seem right to him to use her body that way. It was what you did with women you picked up in bars...He felt suddenly confused. There was nothing wrong with having sex with your wife, but she didn't feel like his wife, or his lover...Dana Scully felt like his partner. No matter what, she still just felt like his partner, worse yet, the partner who was in cahoots with Skinner in not letting him go back to his beloved X-Files, a fact that was starting to bother him more and more. He felt his anger at Skinner growing.

"Damn it, Scully...no...Leave me alone."

"Why not, Fox?" she asked. "I'm your wife."

"Well, you don't feel like my wife and I don't want to be married...I don't want it, Scully. I just don't..." He knew he was being cruel. A pain shot through his head.

"Sure, fine, whatever," she snapped turning her back to him. She had tried to be endlessly patient with him even after the shaving incident just as Roberta had advised, but her body was screaming for release, and her soul craved his love. The day before, a concerned Walter Skinner had told her that it was time to give him a good kick in the ass. This advice was starting to sound better and better. God only knew when he had gotten into his snits in the past, kindness had never really paid. She was silent for a few moments before speaking again, knowing damned well he was wide awake.

"It hurts, you know, Fox...I mean it hurts to know that if I were a strange woman lying in your bed you'd make love to me...but because I'm me you won't." She couldn't keep the anger and pain from her voice although she did try. A part of her felt selfish for wanting sex so badly. He was sick, but she was only human. She admonished herself once again to be patient.

"If you were a stranger in my bed I wouldn't make love to you. I'd fuck your brains out...okay..." he snapped.

"At this point I'd settle for what I could get," she replied coldly.

"Well, Scully, I don't do redheads," he informed her bluntly. "They don't appeal to me. Got it?"

He turned his back to her thinking that that ought to make her leave him alone. He knew it was cruel and felt a terrible knot of pain in his stomach, a knot of pure guilt, at what he had said. It was like listening to his father talking to his mother only the words were coming out of his mouth. He lay there silently for a few minutes.

"I...I didn't mean it about the redheads...okay?" he managed to say finally. "I'm sorry..."

"Sure, fine," she said softly. The pain was so intense she had to work to keep tears from her voice. "I always knew you preferred to screw brunettes. I've know that since Bambi Berenbaum. No problem, Mulder," Dana moved a little bit further away from him determined not to cry, not to let his words sting. He got into these moods, she told herself. They had always come through them before. He was sorry. He was always sorry afterwards and this time he was sick. It took her a long time to fall asleep. Her heart was heavy and her body ached with unfulfilled need. Then, it seemed that no sooner had she dozed off into a fitful sleep, Patrick woke up screaming. Normally Fox would have gotten him, but things were not normal anymore and her husband pretended to be asleep and not hear the child.

Fox heard the baby cry but ignored it. He wondered who the hell Bambi Berenbaum was and if he had screwed her before or after they were married...well, supposedly married. Judging by the pain in Dana's voice, it had probably been afterwards. Well, he wasn't husband material. He could have told anyone that. He was way too messed up to be married and have kids and he had always known it which was why he couldn't picture himself doing it.

The next morning dawned cold and rainy with snow forecast for later on in the day. The phone rang early...twice...the first time being Aunt Sophia. She had a stomach virus and really couldn't watch the kids. For her to say that, Dana knew she was really very ill. Sophia was normally the picture of health and energy. The second call came from the office. They needed her for an autopsy ASAP...heavy duty political case. They needed the best.

The call came from Angela, which meant that Skinner was up against it and probably couldn't even find the time to phone, unless of course he was avoiding Fox which wouldn't have surprised her either. She knew she couldn't call in sick. She sighed and turned to Fox. Skinner had finally confided to her after making her promise to tell no one, not even Mulder, that Both had his suspicions about what had happened to Fox and he had been traveling to and from New York to investigate. She had had to pick up the slack in the XF office and had done some profiling, and then her skills as a pathologist had suddenly been in more demand than ever. It was all becoming too much.

"You'll have to watch the kids today," she sighed. She spoke the words reluctantly. She wasn't sure she trusted him with the job. Still, they were his children and it couldn't be helped. Aislinn had gone home to Ireland to visit briefly. Her father had had surgery. Her mother had her hands full watching Wills and JF while Missy ran the shop in Aislinn's absence. What could she do? She couldn't keep asking other people to watch their children, or at least she didn't think she could.

"What the hell do I know about watching kids?" he asked her. "Besides I have work too..."

"You have the files you wanted to look at at home, Fox and you can communicate via e-mail. I need to get to work and Aunt Sophia is just too sick."

"Great," he sighed. What could he say? If his aunt was sick, she was sick. Aunt Sophia was not a complainer as a rule, so she must feel miserable. He needed to watch two little kids like a hole in the head. They were cute, if you were into cuteness, but they were so busy, and it seemed that Patrick cried all the time. There was something about the pitch of that cry that set his teeth on edge and made his head throb. Dana said he wasn't normally like that, that he was acting out because he knew something was wrong in the house, but that didn't help the headache. He couldn't help but think that if he had been like Patrick as a child it was no wonder his old man had knocked him around the way he had. Then he felt guilty for the thoughts because he knew it was wrong to dislike a little kid, especially one that was supposed to be your own.

"All right, but try to be home early if you can," he finally agreed. Suddenly, he realized that she looked very very tired and had lost a great deal of weight on an already slender frame. He would try to watch the kids. He supposed it wouldn't kill him to try to help her a little. She was still his partner.

Later that day Fox grabbed three aspirin and swallowed them with a gulp of water. He knew if Dana found out how much over the counter painkiller he was taking on top of the prescribed meds, she would have a fit, but the doctor had cut back on those stronger meds and he couldn't stand it, especially not today. He wished Scully would come home. Brenda had been okay more or less, taken a nice long nap, but Patrick had seemed to spend most of the day sitting in the corner crying about something or messing his diaper. Green diarrhea was a thing he could live without at best. He was definitely not at his best. Changing the boy's diaper was awful, but not changing it was worse. He had tried that too. Now the kid had a rash to boot. Dana, Miss Priss, was going to have a fit when she saw it, and his headache was going to be worse than ever. The child had refused to nap at all, and once Fox had found himself raising his hand to smack the kid in the face as pain shot through his head. Fortunately, he had caught himself in time. There was never any excuse for striking a child in the face. It was simply too easy to dislocate the jaw...He knew. He remembered...Jeez...wouldn't there be hell to pay if Scully came home and found hand prints on her kid's face...he shook himself.

What sort of thoughts were these he was having? He had nearly hit a child and he was thinking about the hell he would have to pay? So like his father...He shook his head and poured himself a cup of hot coffee. Hearing a crash from the family room, he snatched it up and raced to the room.

Patrick...naturally...Patrick had managed to pull down his books and files and they lay scattered all over the floor.

Now he sat there crying. Fox set down the coffee and counted to ten very very slowly not hearing the key turn in the lock over the din.

Dana came in. It was starting to snow. She was cold and damp and her head hurt from lack of sleep not to mention no lunch . There had been no time to eat. She had tried to get out early, but another victim had been brought in at the last minute. The autopsies had been horrific...three dead teenage girls, all of which had been listed in their home states as runaways, one from a prominent political family in Rhode Island. It was starting to look like a serial killer and worse yet Colton was on the case, and that meant he would be bugging her constantly and worse trying to get Fox involved to do the profile so he could get credit, even though her husband was sick. Colton was like that. He really didn't give a shit about anyone except maybe himself and Melissa. Dana heard Patrick crying the minute she walked in the door.

Dana found Fox surveying a mess near the sofa as the baby sat in the corner in a drippy messy diaper and cried.

Brenda was no where to be seen, and then suddenly, with the speed of light, as Mulder wasn't paying any attention, her daughter shot out of no where and grabbed the hot cup of coffee he had left sitting on the end table letting out a screech as the hot liquid went flying.

Fortunately, as Dana discovered when she rushed her little girl to the kitchen to get her under tepid water, most of the coffee had landed on the files and not the baby. She had only a small burn on her leg.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Fox?" she demanded angrily when she realized there was no major damage. All the anger and pain and frustration she had been experiencing suddenly bubbled to the surface and she couldn't control herself any longer. "Leaving hot coffee like that..." She knew she sounded like a shrew but she didn't care anymore.

Fox looked at her. No one felt worse about it than he did.

He had felt sick when he had seen the spilled liquid and heard the little girl scream. He opened his mouth to say something, but she didn't give him a chance.

"She could have been seriously burned...I leave you with your kids for just one day and..."

"They don't feel like my kids, okay," he exploded. "They don't feel like my goddamned kids and you don't feel like my wife, and this doesn't feel like my fucking life, and I still haven't found my sister. I can't believe I'd have kids, Dana.

I can't believe I'd bring them into danger and I can't believe I would do this to myself without finding Samantha..." He pointed in sort of no direction at the kitchen...at things in general.

"Goddamn you, Fox Mulder, you wanted the kids as much as me, and I've always helped you look for Samantha...I've never stopped helping you look for your sister."

"When...when do we do it...huh...Dana?" he inquired sarcastically. "Between picking up Toys R Us everyday, or between changing green shitty diapers, or listening to that kid cry all the time? When Dana? When do I get to look for my sister? When do you get to help me? All you seem to think about is looking after them and trying to get me to fuck you at night."

Brenda screamed in Dana's arms hysterical at the fighting.

Patrick stood in the doorway crying and scared and miserable nasty green stuff dripping down his leg. Dana had really had enough. All vestiges of control fled.

"Ever since your accident, all I've heard is me me me me me..." she screamed at him. "Go look for your damned sister right now for all I care. Go look and don't come back. Hell, I've got to do everything by myself anyway, and if I need a man, I'm sure I'll find one willing to oblige. You don't want me and you can't even change the baby when he needs it. Who the hell needs you? Maybe you should have died in that accident. Maybe we all would have been better off."

She hadn't meant to say that but she didn't care. She was too furious to care.

"I've been changing him all day..." he started to reply shocked at her words and the shrewish screaming.

"Well, you'd never know it to look at him now. You've been such a bastard...didn't it ever occur to you, Fox Mulder, that even if these kids don't feel like yours, they are mine and you could try to be fond of them for just that reason alone? We were partners. We were friends. We cared about each other even back then..even where you are in time now. When I lost months out of my life, I didn't stop caring about you when I got back. Now get the hell out and leave me alone."

"Fine...great. I'm going and I don't, by the way, need your permission." He walked towards the door and snatched up his jacket . "I'll stay at a hotel until I can find a damned apartment and you can have as many men over as you damned well pleased! They might even fuck you until they get to know what a bitch you are." He went out slamming the door behind him ignoring the pain shooting through his head.

Dana didn't know how she did it, but she finally got both the children calmed and bathed and in pajamas. Patrick got a dinner of Rice Chex and bananas and acetaminophen as she cursed incoming teeth. She managed to get half a container of yogurt into Brenda with a little bit of fruit salad, and then it was off to bed for both of them. They had adjusted to the fact that Fox didn't read to them at bedtime anymore, and quickly fell asleep.

With a sigh, Dana looked around the house and began to pick everything up. It didn't really take long. She had it down to a science. It did take awhile to put the files back in order, but some of them were irreparably stained.

With a sigh, she hit the shower and scrubbed herself clean and then went downstairs. When had her life become such a nightmare? Why had her life become one? She was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt for having thrown him out after saying such terrible things to him. If he had died, she would not have wanted to live. He was a sick man...a man with a head injury, amnesia...maybe brain damaged, and she had sent him out on a snowy night after telling him she wished he was dead. Still, she was human too. She had feelings and needs and wants, and she was tired...but he needed her...needed her to be patient and loving and kind. He was at a hard place in his life and she hadn't supported him.

On the other hand, the bouts of moodiness and nastiness were so hard to take. It was as though all his negative traits had been exaggerated by the head injury. They had had difficult times in the past, but not like this. The last time they had been so at odds had been because he was angry that she had put their unborn child's life in jeopardy. At least then, he had had a legitimate reason even if he hadn't handled it well. All she could do, she realized, was pray he stayed out of trouble, pray he got in touch with her.

If...no...when he did, she would apologize for losing her temper. Maybe it would be better if he did move out for awhile...maybe if she gave him space...Face it, he might be more cooperative from a distance. Well, dwelling on it wasn't going to help. She would do what she had to do when the time came. She decided she needed to keep herself busy so she sat down at the desk in the office and began to pay some bills which were close to being overdue.

Everything was falling apart including her and she couldn't afford to. She was a mother and her children needed her.

Chapter 11

Mulder slammed the front door behind him, slammed it loudly. It was still snowing but not has hard. He took a few deep breaths. The cold air cleared his head a little. He thought for a moment about walking to the garage and taking out his Mustang...taking it out and skidding on the ice and smashing into a tree. He could make Scully happy and end all this misery. He didn't think about it very long though. Somewhere out there, Samantha was still waiting, and if he killed himself, who would look for her? Who would take care of her? Scully would inherit all his money...and...No that wasn't fair. Scully would take care of his sister if she ever showed up. Scully had never been mercenary about money, but he couldn't rely on her to look for Samantha. Not any more. It just didn't mean anything to her now and would mean even less if he were gone. He started to walk. Mulder knew he was in trouble, real trouble. Something was wrong with his mind, his brain.

He couldn't think straight. He didn't know what to do. His hands started to shake as pain shot through his head again.

Seeing a phone booth on the corner, he knew he had to do something. He dropped a quarter into the slot and dialed Roberta's number. She would be able to tell him what do to next. He would tell her that Dana had thrown him out...No answer...She was gone out somewhere. Well, therapists had lives too. Even though it wasn't late, she may have seen her last patient for the day and gone out to dinner somewhere.

He began to walk. He didn't have any particular destination in mind. He supposed sooner or later he would have to find a hotel...go back and get his things...look for an apartment. Maybe there would be one available in his old complex. Rents there weren't too bad...Hell...he didn't need to worry about that.

He found himself standing in front of a seedy bar. It was a real dive. He had never been a heavy drinker, but periodically he had come to this place with the Gunmen and tied one on. Yeah...it was a great place for losers, perfect for the Gunmen...more than perfect for him.

Although he found the saloon smell emanating from beyond the door faintly nauseating, he opened it and stepped in. Maybe he would just drink himself into a stupor and forget his misery for awhile even though he really didn't like to drink.

Frohike looked up and saw him before the other two men he was with.

"Hey, look who it is...It's Muldy Man," he said holding up his glass.

"Jeez," said Byers, "You look like shit, Mulder. Come over and have a drink."

"Wife let you out for the night, Byers?" he inquired staggering to the booth and setting himself down.

"More like threw him out," snorted Langly.

"Well, Byers, welcome to the club," said Mulder. "Well, maybe...I mean the woman who says she is my wife threw me out but who the hell knows...I mean I'm still waiting for Scotty to beam me out of this alternate universe."

"My wife didn't throw me out," said Byers. "In fact, I've got to get home...like an hour ago or no nooky tonight." He got up and put a few bills on the table. "Take care of yourself, Mulder," he said, "And don't get too drunk.

Alcohol isn't good for a man with a head injury."

Langly got up too. "Gotta go myself," he said looking at Mulder with concern. "Sorry I can't stay and hang around with you losers, but I have a lead on a story."

"Oh, you mean that black haired hooker who claims to have been abducted by aliens?" inquired Frohicke. He pulled a box out of his pocket and tossed it to Langly.

"Here buddy...they glow in the dark. Use two. That one is dangerous."

"Thanks pal, " smirked Langly. "I'll keep that in mind."

He waved at Mulder who suddenly found himself alone with Frohicke. Well, it wasn't his therapist, but it was better than being alone he supposed.

"So what's up, Troll Man?" inquired Mulder.

"I'm fine, Muldy," said his friend with genuine concern, "which is more that I suspect can be said for you at the moment."

"Hey, I'm fine. I'm great, Frohicke," replied Fox.

"Considering you damned near got killed in a supposed car accident and can't remember the last two years?"

"Yeah," replied Fox. The waiter came around and he ordered a beer. Somehow he didn't think he could take anything any stronger. The thought of getting drunk and being hung over made his head hurt even more.

"You know, it's really too bad. I mean...it really sucks..."

said his friend. "I mean isn't it just well life? You can't forget the miserable times..like the time Scully was gone.

Instead you get to forget the happy shit."

"Everyone keeps telling me I was happy. It doesn't feel like I was happy Troll Man..." The beer came and Mulder knocked back a big slug.

"Well, you were. What's not to be happy about? Hell, I always did say that Scully was hot. You got to go home and do her every night while I looked at Celebrity Skin and...Never mind. Anyway what I'm trying to say Muldy Man is that judging by the way she looked, you both really enjoyed it. I don't know what the hell your problem is now, but last time I saw her, she looked just exhausted."

"She just doesn't feel like my wife, Frohicke..." he blurted out. "I can't live with her...and those kids..."

"Oh, Mulder, why don't you just stop the

bullshit...huh...She doesn't feel like your wife...Jeez, you were so in love with her...There was just about no dealing with you when she was missing. So what the hell if she doesn't feel like your wife or you don't remember the ceremony? You love her. She loves you. And the kids are great. Stop feeling so goddamned sorry for yourself and go and have a life already. I were you, I'd take Scully any day, amnesia or no amnesia."

Mulder chugged back the rest of his beer and sat staring for a long time saying nothing. Frohicke was being obnoxious, but then that was Frohicke. Had to love the guy anyway.

Or was he...being obnoxious?

"You know what I think the real problem is here, Mulder?"

asked his friend a little more gently seeing how deeply disturbed the man looked.

"Do enlighten me, please."

"I suspect that Dana has been endlessly patient with you.

You've probably be treating her like shit and she hasn't said a word, when what she should have done was kick you in the ass the day you got out of the hospital just to snap you back into line. The thing is...see...she's a woman. She takes her marriage vows seriously, and she loves you. She's got kids, and she wants to keep her family together. Most of all, Mulder, she loves you more than anything, and she would rather die than lose you although she won't because of the children."

"What would you know about family?" he snapped.

"Enough to know that if I had one, I would want to try to keep it, Mulder, to try to work things out."

Mulder gazed a Frohicke for a long time. It occurred to him that his friend truly was a very lonely man. It was kind of sad really. Troll Man wasn't much to look at, but he was a fundamentally decent human being. If he could meet the right woman, he would be a good husband, a good father.

In a strange sort of way, Scully might have been better off with a man like Frohicke. Everyone thought he was a loser, but he wasn't, not really. The real loser was himself, Fox Mulder, wealthy, supposedly good looking, intelligent...a man who had it all...except the brains he had been born with.

Frohicke had started to wonder if he hadn't overstepped his bounds. With Mulder it was hard to know. He was a good guy...a really good guy, but there was a side to him that was...well...not so nice and the head injury seemed to have brought that side to the foreground. Finally Mulder got to his feet and Frohicke sighed. He supposed he had just lost a good friend.

"Thanks, Frohicke," said Fox quietly. He reached into his wallet and placed money on the table for the drink. "I'll never forget you for this. See you soon...huh?"

Mulder turned and walked out of the bar into the freezing cold night. God, it wasn't even 9:30 yet and it felt as though it should be 2 AM.

Chapter 12

Fox stood outside the front door of his home for a moment hoping that Dana would let him back in. He still wasn't really sure about anything. No that wasn't true. He was sure that he was still very confused, but he did know that he didn't want to leave things as they had been when she had told him to get out. Hell, he would have stormed out in another minute anyway but it would not have been the right thing to do. If Dana really wanted it, he would move out for awhile and give her space, but he hoped at least to make some sort of peace with her tonight and to try to leave the possibility open for trying again soon.

Maybe space was what they both needed, space in which they could become friends again and eventually maybe lovers. Poor Dana. Literally everyone he had spoken with since his return had told him that they had a very physical relationship, always touching...like newlyweds. Everyone had told him how much in love they had been and how he had adored his family. She had lost all that now. This was something he had failed to consider. As he had walked up to the townhouse with the beautiful stained glass windows, it had occurred to him that perhaps in a way it was easier for him. He had lost all the memories, but she had lost her husband, the father of her children, her lover... He put his key in the lock and turned it. Then he punched the required security codes and went inside. The house was very quiet.

He peeked into the living room. Empty. The family room had been picked up. All the files were neatly stacked and the spilled coffee had been wiped up. Dana had been busy.

Dana...always organized...always neat...his antithesis.

It was as he passed toward the kitchen that he saw her.

She was sitting at his desk in the small office, but she was slumped over, her face buried in her arms. Her shoulders shook slightly and then stilled. Apparently, she hadn't heard him come in. He tiptoed up behind her and gazed at her red hair hanging down over her shoulders. It was so beautiful. How could he have made such a hateful comment to her about finding redheads unappealing? Ever so gently he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, "It's me. It's um...Spook...you know."

Arms went around his waist as she buried her face in his mid section.

"Oh, Mulder...I'm sorry. Just let me hold you for minute.

Just let me pretend I still have my husband and that he loves me. I miss him so much. I love you, Mulder. I did even before New Mexico, but I miss Fox. I miss the man I was married to and had children with."

"Oh, Dana, I love you too..." he heard himself say suddenly realizing that everything Frohike had said really was true.

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her . "God, I got to thinking about what it was like when you were gone. I've been feeling so sorry for myself because I'm missing time, but you've missed time too. I've been selfish..."

She rubbed her face against him. "If you...if you want to move out...I understand..." She looked up at him and suddenly he knew he didn't. He bent down and kissed her forehead.

"No, angel...no. I...I want us to try again...starting now...and here."

He carried her upstairs and made love to her with a hunger not even she realized that he possessed. It was as though he had been waiting forever to have her, and she realized that to him it was the first time, like it was new, and that he had loved her even back then, even after New Mexico when she had gone along with Walter in cutting a deal with the consortium. When he was finished filling and fulfilling her, she stretched out next to him touching as much of him as she could.

"Anam Cara," she whispered softly in his ear.

"What is that, angel?" he asked her inhaling the scent of her hair. His body felt relaxed and he felt mellow and content with her curled up against him in the bed.

"Soul friend...you have always been my anam cara and you always will be."

He did not need to reply for she had already fallen asleep, into the first really good sleep she would be getting in weeks, he realized. He dozed off his body spooned behind her.

Morning came too quickly but he awoke at the crack of dawn and eased himself away from her. He realized that for the first time since the accident, he was waking up without his head causing him agony. Dana, his anam cara, stirred but didn't awaken. He looked at her and smiled.

Everything felt different this morning, better somehow, and he had had a beautiful dream, a dream in which he sat in a beautiful place with his arms around Dana as strange haunting music passed over and around him, a dream in which he could smell her sweet scent and feel her soft hair under her chin as he rocked her in time to the sound of pipes from a strange and different place.

It had snowed during the night, a beautiful wet snow. The world had turned to white and it was Saturday and neither of them had to work. He went to the bathroom and showered and shaved. When he came out of the bathroom, he heard the sound of whimpering. Peeking into the babies'

room he saw Patrick sitting up in his crib. Poor Patrick.

He went in and thought about Dana's words, that if he couldn't love Patrick as his own son, he could at least try to be fond of the boy because he was hers. Oddly enough though, since last night, since holding Dana and loving her and filling her with himself, it felt for the first time as though the child really could be his.

"What's the matter big guy?" whispered Fox. "Teeth hurt?

Tummy hurt?" He approached the crib. For a moment the boy backed away. Fox realized just how much he had been acting like his father toward the child. Patrick had grown afraid of him, and Dana had told him that he and the boy had been best buddies.

"It's okay, Wally Wolf," he said using the stupid name Dana had told him he had called his son, pulling the child into his arms. "You are all wet, big fellah...Come on. Let's get changed and we'll go downstairs and get you something to eat that your mother wouldn't approve of. Now you'd like that wouldn't you?"

No sooner did he have Patrick in dry overalls than Brenda was awake. He set the little boy on the floor and got her.

She required a simple diaper change and he took them both downstairs. "Be quiet," he admonished. "Let's let your poor mother get some sleep."

Dana woke up slowly and stretched languorously. The bed felt so wonderful, warm and comfortable. She reached over for her husband but he wasn't there. She sat up and blinked. Could the night before have been just a dream?

No. It had been real. Her body was telling her that. It was relaxed and at ease. Fox had come home and carried her upstairs and made love to her until they were both exhausted. They had whispered beautiful things to each other. It had felt as though the weight of the world had lifted off of her shoulders after the nightmare the day had been. Her body and heart felt oh so many pounds lighter.

What was wrong though? Wait...the babies. The babies hadn't awakened her. She leapt out of bed and raced to their room. The cribs were both empty. Dirty night clothes had been tossed on the floor so that meant that Fox must be with them. She tensed for an instant. She had left Fox with them yesterday...look what had happened. She made a brief pit stop and headed downstairs where her nostrils were assailed by the scent of her favorite butter rum gourmet coffee. She went to the kitchen and stopped and smiled.

Fox was sitting at the kitchen table with both the babies in the high chairs. Patrick had what she always called his Mulder grin on his little face as he stuffed it with pancakes...not the homemade kind, just the Price Club frozen kind, but pancakes none the less and Brenda was sitting in her chair a pancake in her fist.

"Da Da ack...Da Da ack..." she was telling it. " Ben eet...Ben eet..." She took a little bite.

"Good girl," said Fox. Dana snuck up behind him and kissed the back of his neck.

"Morning, Spook." She smiled. "Hi, babies..."

"Da da ack..." announced Brenda.

"I know he is, sweetie," she said kissing her baby girl's head.

"Well, Scully, I don't know if da da is exactly ack," he grinned, "but I'm here. Think they'd settle for Uncle Mulder for awhile?"

"Just so long as they can call you dada," she smiled.

Although his headache wasn't gone totally, it had receded to the point where he felt pretty good. He got up and put his arms around her and felt himself react accordingly.

She pulled him just a little bit closer and gave him a surreptitious pat in the appropriate spot.

"Later, when the kids take a nap," she promised. She turned and they both realized that Patrick had chosen that moment to clap his hands and they started laughing.

"You, sit," ordered Fox. "I'm bringing you some of my delicious nutritious frozen Price Club pancakes for breakfast. You've lost way to much weight, Scully. I like my women soft and round and...redheaded..."

She looked at him and smiled. For a moment he was transported back to that horrible day he had reluctantly awakened in the hospital in Alaska and wished he were dead until Dana Scully had looked at him and smiled just like that.

He got a lot of files read that day in spite of spending time with the kids. He even did a profile for that moron Colton who was supposedly now Melissa's boyfriend. Strangely in spite of still having a bit of a tummy ache, Patrick didn't cry. He spent a lot of time curled up next to Fox sometimes playing with his feet, other times babbling and being pesky, but to a large extent just sitting close to the man who was his father. Even Dana said he was being remarkably placid for Patrick. Fox realized that the presence of the children on either side of him felt good, that even if he couldn't remember their birth, they were a part of Dana. She was right. That was enough, at least for now. He wore her out during their nap time, not that she minded, and joked with her about how he hadn't known he'd had it in him, to which she replied that that was because it wasn't...it was in her which was her favorite place for it to be. They had laughed together and she had kissed him in all his favorite erogenous zones, but he had fallen asleep at that point.

When the babies woke up, they had even taken them out in the snow for a little while. Patrick didn't like it and cried, of course, but Brenda studied it carefully and then began to explore aggressively.

When the babies had gone to bed that night, Aunt Sophia had stopped up. She was looking and feeling much better and told them she would be able to watch the babies on Monday with no problem. They had shared tea and some conversation, but seeing the two of them acting like newlyweds again, she had decided that everything was going to be all right and left. She was still very tired in any case.

Dana convinced him that he needed to watch "UFO Chasers" with her. Instead of growing annoyed with her as he had the week before, he agreed. She made popcorn and they settled down on the sofa.

Fox took one look at Agent Sally Selkirk.

"Hey...uh...Shorts..." he asked feeling silly using the nickname, but making the effort none the less, "Uh...how come I never got a partner with a pair of hooters like that?"

Suddenly he was filled with a sense of deja vu as though he had had this conversation before, but he couldn't imagine where.

"Well, as Assistant Director Skinner once told you when you asked the same question, because your partner takes after her mother."

"Walter Skinner did not tell me that."

"Yes he did. We were in Ireland. You were both pretty drunk." She recognized she was on shaky ground discussing Skinner. Mulder had been more or less willing to accept certain things, but the fact that he had been close to Skinner was not one of them. Even today he had told her that he still couldn't believe that he and Skinner had been close and he had been extremely amenable today.

Fox decided to let the matter drop. He couldn't warm up to Skinner and probably never would, not after he had found the man holding a gun on Scully that time.

He watched silently for awhile, his arm around Dana's shoulders periodically laughing out loud. Jeez, the show was so dumb...but there was something about Weird Winters and his partner chasing after the giant insect in the New York City sewers. He muttered something.

"What was that, Spook?"

"I said I'm beginning to wonder if the Lone Gunmen didn't write this."

"Nothing would surprise me," she laughed. "They must make money somehow and I don't think it is selling magazines."

She noticed that he was silent for a long time, didn't move even after the show was over and the popcorn gone.

"What is it, Fox?" she asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"Who was Bambi Berenbaum?" he asked. Funny, but whenever the name popped into his mind, he began to think about Raid. He could almost smell it.

"An entomologist. You worked a case in Massachusetts.

Killer roaches...well, not really killer roaches, but everyone thought they were killer roaches."

"I worked a case?"

"You went up there without me. It was a weekend off."

"Oh...and Bambi?"

"Very pretty. Brilliant if you are into bugs. You were very attracted to her." Dana sighed. "If what I heard through the motel room wall was any indication, she breeds like a roach too..."

"Meow," he laughed. Then he turned suddenly serious.

"We weren't married then were we? I mean...I wasn't cheating on you was I cause..."

"No. We weren't married or anything else for that matter," she assured him, "only it hurt because I loved you even then and to hear the two of you making love...I wanted it to be me. We had some rough times around then. You weren't happy about cutting the deal after New Mexico and I was having a hard time about Missy having gotten shot in my place...and then...well, I guess I got pretty bitchy for awhile especially after Bambi and Detective White."

"Detective White?"

"The case of the teenagers from hell and the unharmonic convergence. I don't know. It was weird. I don't like to think about it. God, when I walked into that motel room and saw that woman on top of you, I could have killed both of you."

"Hmm...I'll have to make sure I read that file." He kissed her head. There was a sitcom coming on, "Third Planet from the Sun." It caught his interest. In a few moments, they were both laughing themselves silly and he thought that maybe Walter Skinner had been right about one thing when Mulder had confronted him about going back to work. Maybe it wasn't as important that he remembered what had been as it was that he started to appreciate what he had now. He hugged Scully...Dana...just a little closer to him. For the first time since he had awakened he felt something close to peace.

Chapter 13

Dana felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Even though Fox still didn't have his memory back, things had been so much better over the past week. Her mom had cooked up a storm and sent her a lot of everything so that she hadn't had to do much cooking. Sophia was back to her normal exuberant good health and Bill was doing a marvelous job on the renovations to the house next door, so the older woman was getting excited about moving into her "first real home" where "her" babies would come and play everyday. They had even managed to find a few moments together to discuss some interior decorating ideas which Dana had enjoyed. As much as she loved her job, there were times when she did find herself longing for more traditional "women's things." She loved Aunt Sophia as though the woman were her own family. It was good to see her enthusiastic over owning a home, and better yet that the home would be right next door with a connecting entrance.

Fox's headaches had not completely left him. If he tried to remember, he continued to get sharp pains in his head, but it was no longer constant. In fact, to her delight two days had gone by in which he hadn't needed to take any medication and then it had only been half a dose when he did. Perhaps his brain was healing. In fact, she had felt confident enough of him to leave the children with him for a few hours while she did some shopping for clothes. The twins seemed to outgrow things so quickly. To her delight, she had come home to find Mulder with a baby dangling on each hip. Well, he didn't have hips, so it was more like they were just dangling. Both of them were screaming, but when she walked in instead of looking annoyed or guilty, he had looked at her and given her his best Mulder grin.

"Hey, look Scully, I managed to get both of them crying at once and I did it all by myself."

She had had to laugh as she took one little one from him and they had sat down on the couch. There had been a little too much rough housing and the kids were just a little bit...well more than a little bit late for their naps, but apparently the three of them had been having the time of their lives.

The next day had been Monday. She had gone to see Skinner and told him that she thought it was time he be allowed to come back to work...half days only and light duty. She and Both, when he was around, would handle the field work. If Mulder continued to progress he would be returned to full time duty in a few weeks.

Skinner had agreed. Mulder hadn't looked really happy as he had stood in front of his boss, but to Walter's surprise, Mulder had kept his mouth shut and agreed to the terms of his return to the X-Files. Of course, there was a part of him that would have liked to have knocked the scowl off his son in law's face, however, the man was not insubordinate and he decided that in this case patience was a virtue. He told Mulder to get his ass down to the basement. There were some profiles waiting to be looked at.

Mulder had done so. The office was empty although there was definitely evidence of another person sharing the space, a person that wasn't Scully. The other desk was immaculate. In an 8 by 10 plain brown picture frame was a photo of an older but lovely black woman, her hair close cropped and three beautiful young girls. Next to it say a lovely carved face mask. Mulder thought the woman's features were just beautiful. He suspected that the mask was West African. The way the cheeks had been marked disturbed him, but he recognized that for what it was...cultural bias. Whoever had carved the mask had found the markings a thing of beauty.

The door opened and a tall dark man entered. He looked briefly surprised to see Mulder standing there. Then he walked across the office and held out his hand.

"Agent Dewayne Bothrington," he said casually but politely. "I am aware that you do not remember me, Agent Mulder. I wasn't expecting you, but it is good to have you back. The X-Files are not the same without you. In fact, they are not even the real X-Files in your absence."

Mulder shook the man's hand. He liked the way it felt, firm but not painfully so. He realized that he liked this man...immediately...a very rare phenomenon for him.

The next day Scully went down to the basement office to check on him. He hadn't said much about his first morning back. She feared there might be some tension between Mulder and Both. Mulder had been a real lone wolf two years ago. Heck, it had taken him a long time to accept her as a partner. She stumbled upon a sight that left her dumbfounded. He and Both both had their feet up on their desks. They were sitting there shooting paper wads into the waste basket debating the merits of large breast size versus small breast size...feel, texture, weight...They had not been talking about Frank Merdue's chickens either. Dana had stood quietly listening for a moment the two men unaware of her presence. It was one interesting way to learn about her husband's past, and indeed there had been more than just Phoebe in it. Of course, she could have done without Mulder's explaining to Both, that gee, after a woman had a baby it seemed her nipples got larger from nursing...that struck a little close to home...but... Also, for a moment she had experienced a pang of jealousy, not only about the women who had known him intimately, but because of the easy camaraderie that Fox and Both were experiencing. She quelled it quickly. The women were in his past, and it was good to see Fox at ease with a male coworker for once. She thought perhaps that he had missed this sort of male camaraderie during the time they had been partnered. She smiled slightly and tiptoed away before they noticed she was there. Fox was doing fine.

Amnesia or not, he seemed to like his new staff member he was content with her breasts even if they didn't rival Frank Merdue's famous chickens for size and weight.

Between the fact that he was bonding with the children again and that he was back at work, for the first time in a long time she felt relaxed in spite of a court appearance and two really gruesome autopsies later that day. Maybe soon they would even get an X-file to investigate. Things had been slow in the paranormal department lately, but now Fox would start to get restless if one didn't come along soon. Hopefully when it did, Fox would be ready to return to work full time.

As the days passed, the headaches continued to dissipate and the medication wasn't making him feel tired and cranky because he didn't need to take much of it now. He and Both had done a few profiles together, not X-files of course, but some interesting cases none the less, and he had been impressed by Both's mind. Not only was it keen, but it was open, a rarity indeed, something he had not found in a partner before, not even in Scully. No one would ever replace her, but if she couldn't be with him, he realized that Both was good backup. It was amazing how they could look at the same file and taking a completely different mental approach reach the same conclusion. Hell, they had even had some real one on one guy talk while they competed as to who could shoot the most paper balls into the trash can. Both had revealed a preference for larger women, larger in general. Fox had told him how he favored brunettes. It had gotten really down and dirty and Fox had been glad that Dana hadn't been around to hear it, but it had felt nice to have a good working relationship with a male partner for once. Jeez, he had very nearly lost it when he found out that other agents had begun calling them Spooky and the Voo Doo man. Both had caught him cursing them, and told him to chill. The next time he had had to make a call out of the office, to Tom Colton naturally, he had said with an evil grin, "Hello Tom.

Voodoo Man here. Spooky is back at work and we both think your profile sucks. Here is where you went wrong..." When he had hung up the phone he had shrugged and muttered something to the effect that "If you can't beat em...join em...or at least let them think you had."

In a leap of insight, the kind that Mulder was famous for, he realized that he had just found the key to Dewayne Bothrington, and that in allowing him to see it, Both had made a statement about where his loyalties lie. When he had seen Both sign a memo from the department Spook Patrol, he had just about died laughing. He wondered why he hadn't thought about doing that himself.

Several nights later, Dana brushed her hair quickly and her teeth and got into bed. Fox was already asleep. He appeared to be resting quietly, and she was pleased. Sleep was the best thing for him. She was admittedly surprised and she chuckled silently as she pulled the covers up over herself. He sure hadn't beat her to sleep any other night during the week. In fact, he had very nearly worn her out.

It had been as though he hadn't had sex in months and months, but of course, from where he was mentally he hadn't. He had been a newlywed. It had been kind of fun.

Well, more than kind of fun, but she could use a night's sleep. She smiled hoping the babies would slumber through the night and dozed off promptly.

Dana was awakened not by the cry of a baby, but by her husband thrashing around in the bed next to her. He was having a nightmare. Over the years she had known him she had become accustomed to his bad dreams, but this one, she sensed, was worse than normal.

Fox Mulder had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Life that week had been almost good. After the fight he had had with Dana, and the way that they had made up, he had found himself feeling much more relaxed.

Yes, making up had indeed been one of the high points in his life. Since he didn't remember marrying her, it had been like the first time. He realized that he had been a fool in the prior weeks. He had been stupid to try to fight his feelings for her. Unfortunately, he would have to be grateful to Frohike for doing what not even Roberta could do, making him realize that he loved Dana, had always loved her, and that he would be throwing away a treasure if he continued on the way he had been. If she hadn't forgiven him...Unfortunately, the deep peaceful sleep did not last for long.

Suddenly he was 12 years old again and they were taking Samantha away. Fox began to sweat and toss and turn in his sleep. Then the dream faded and he was in the shed, in the shed with his father. The angry look on the man's face...the look that said, "It's your fault your sister is gone"

was terrifying. Drinking, his dad had been drinking even more heavily than before. He felt the pain as the 2 by 4 came crashing into his arm breaking it...and his head...and Ed's voice in the background...and then suddenly he was in that place...that place where they had taken him. He was big. He was supposed to be able to take care of himself, but he was 12 and the others were 16 and 17 and bigger and stronger and there were so many...pulled from the shower...he was being pulled from the shower..."I'm not a girl...I'm not a girl..."

"My, God, Fox...my God..." Dana was suddenly there.

He was not longer asleep but was shaking violently. She pulled him into her arms, but he could feel that she was trembling too. "Fox, what is it? Did you dream about your sister?" Through the cobwebs of sleep still in his brain, he heard her concern.

"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone." He pushed her away and jumped out of bed. For a moment he paced trying to bring his trembling under control wanting nothing more than to run away. He walked to the window. He frightened her. For a moment she feared that she was losing him again.

"Come here, sweetheart," said Dana softly. She had stopped calling him that since it had made him so angry, and she could see the soft words took him by surprise. He went and sat down on the bed. She reached for some Kleenex and wiped the perspiration from his face gently.

"Whatever it was, Fox, it was only a dream. It's going to be all right." She looked into his eyes. This nightmare had been worse than the usual dream about his sister. Was brain damage going to manifest itself in a different form now that she had him back? Would he, she wondered, never have peace. Would his sleep be haunted all his life?

"It wasn't a dream. It wasn't. It happened. It really happened. "

"Tell me." She put her arm around his shoulder gently.

Over the years she had become accustomed to his nightmares, but as time had gone by they had lessened until after they were married they hardly happened. This was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before though.

There had been something about the way he had cried out in his sleep...

"I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone. " Suddenly he lowered her down on the bed and put his lips to hers. He made love to her fiercely, not in a hurting way, but in a sort of desperation that she had never seen in him no matter how had things had gotten. For an instant she wondered if he even knew he was with until he had cried her name over and over again. Dana..Dana..Dana... When he finished, he seemed to realize that perhaps he had been out of line, or too rough, or something. He hadn't been. He had just been needy and she had understood.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love..."

"Fox, there is nothing for you to be sorry about," she said gently although he hadn't been himself, had barely considered her at all. "Tell me, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'd almost forgotten...almost repressed it...I had repressed it." Suddenly he was crying in her arms. "In the children's center...in the shower...the big boys...no guard...they grabbed me. They held me down. They were = going to...oh, God, a social worker walked in the door just in time, Dana...just in time...I was so scared. They would have taken turns with me. I can't remember ever being that scared...except when Samantha was taken...and you were taken and...my head hurts again."

She held him and stroked his head, reassuring him that she loved him and that everything was going to be all right.

Finally when his trembling ceased, she sat up.

"Come on, Spookster. Let's go downstairs and I'll make you some hot chocolate."

"With marshmallows?" he asked trying to regain some of his dignity. The shooting pains in his head had died down again, thank God. He attempted to give her that famous Mulder grin but didn't quite pull it off. The dream had been so incredibly real and so painful. And, he had never wanted to tell anyone about what had almost happened, about how he had almost been...

"If that charming son of yours hasn't eaten them all." She smiled back at him before he could continue his thought.

The fact that he had told her his head hurt concerned her a little, but it was the first headache in awhile, so she told herself not to worry too much. He might continue to have them for awhile.

Dana sat across from him. Silly as it seemed, she was glad she had found some marshmallows. He had always been kind of a little kid about things like that, and the longer she knew him the more she understood why. She shuddered at the thought of what had nearly happened to him. People thought in terms of females being violated, but they were not the only ones. Young boys could be treated savagely as well. She was grateful that nothing had actually happened.

"It must have been awful for you, Fox," she said softly finally addressing the matter that had awakened him from his sound sleep.

"It was after that that the social workers found Aunt Sophia," he said quietly. "I think he was kind of well, fond of me, you know...cause I was different. I mean, I think he made an extra effort. Dana, I never told anyone. I hid it even in my therapy. I mean I was so lucky. It didn't happen, but it was close...so close. I...I didn't mean to hurt you tonight when I...I mean...I just needed you then...I..." He felt confused because he hadn't really had the time to be married to her that she had had to be his wife...

"Needed to know you were normal. Needed to know you were okay. Fox, in spite of everything you've been through, you are okay and you will continue to be okay. As for being normal, well, normal is boring." She smiled at him.

"I fell in love with you because you are Spooky. In fact, your are certifiable, but never dull, and you are the best lover I ever had." She lay her hand across his.

"Hey, G woman, you told me I was the only lover you ever had." He enjoyed the feel of her small hand over his.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it." She told him the story about Jack again briefly. He looked at her for a long time. It was difficult to picture Scully abused, but sometimes a person had to learn the hard way. Maybe that was why she didn't take any crap from anyone anymore, well, except maybe him, and why she was so careful about making herself emotionally vulnerable. He didn't understand why he had = dreamed about his father like that and why the incident had suddenly returned to his mind after all this time, but he felt better for having told Dana. A burden shared was less of a burden, and as usual, she had been there for him.

Could that have been why he fell in love with her, why he had finally asked her to marry him, because she was strong enough to help him shoulder his burden?

"Hey, Scully," he asked suddenly changing the subject from mutual trauma "whatever happened to all those purple panties I bought you...what are you grinning like that for?" A smile had spread across her face and had lit it up.

She looked incredibly beautiful in that instant. "What?"

"You did that on our honeymoon," she explained. "You dragged me to Victoria's Secret and bought me all this purple underwear, and then nearly died laughing later when you saw how awful it looked, so you ripped them off me each night when we..."

"Is that where that stupid bird learned to say Rip em off me?"

"Yeah..." she grinned. "We were on the couch and I think I screamed just rip em off me and ..."

"I did."

"You are always glad to oblige in that regard." She smiled at him again. "And it's a good thing too, because as I recall I was feeling pretty desperate. What do you say we go upstairs again...no wait...what do you say we head for the couch again so we don't wake up Patrick...I think there is something you need to do for me that you didn't do before..." She grinned at him wickedly, "And I get very cranky when I don't have that particular thing done."

"What do you say," he said, "that you come sit in my lap right here and I'll do my job without leaving the kitchen."

"And I say that we haven't made appropriate use of this kitchen table in a long long time, Mulder...No wait...the leg is loose again, gotta buy a new one...the kitchen counter...yeah...that always works...the kitchen counter..."

"Oh, God...I married wild thing...how could I forget marrying a woman who likes to be loved on a kitchen counter..." he laughed aloud and lifted her. She was light in his arms and wrapped herself around him. "Counter's too far away. " Her back hit the nearest wall with a thud.

This was something new. The possibilities were so enthralling she didn't notice.

Suddenly past nightmares were no longer paramount and in their onslaught of passion, they both forgot that he had actually remembered something that had happened after New Mexico, the purple panties he had bought her.

Aunt Sophia was downstairs working on her computers.

She sighed. Jeez, judging by the pounding against the kitchen wall, if she hadn't known better she would have thought he was killing her. Oh well. Those screams were definitely not ones of pain. She could hear them even above her crazy nephew singing "Wild Thing...You make my heart sing.." rather breathlessly at the top of his lungs.

If the past was any indication once they got started in the kitchen, she wasn't going to get any work done in this computer room although the singing was unusual. She thought it might be a first for the wall too. The table was the usual site although admittedly it had been awhile. She exited her program. She might as well go to bed and sing "Memories." Too many power surges up above for her to concentrate. Wait till they found out how sound carried through these heating ducts! They might never be able to face her again.

Chapter 14

The man stood in the doorway listening puffing on his Morley's. He felt as though he were among a ship of fools as they sat around discussing the experiment. Had they all grown so old and senile that they didn't realize times had changed? The American people had changed. They didn't trust the government anymore. They didn't expect the government to do good, to do what was best for them anymore. Those days were long gone. The American people now believed anything about a cover up...looked for coverups...expected coverups...He gave a passing thought to that son of a bitch Nixon then scratched it as being non productive. The project was a good thing. It always had been and could still be, if these old fools didn't ruin it with their nonsense. The concept of what they were trying to do was fine, but they were idiots if they didn't realize how dangerous it was today to pull people off the streets and experiment on them.

"The results have been excellent. Over 100 male subjects from varying locations have been inoculated with the drug.

So far, not one of them has remembered what has happened within the past two to five years. Roughly five per cent were left totally brain damaged remembering nothing, most acceptable at this early stage in the experiment..."

"That is a matter of opinion," said the well mannered Englishman who liked to think of himself as being in charge.

"It is a very new drug," the middle age scientist said reciting the statistics said defensively. "Now...if I may continue...Ten have been hospitalized several times with severe headaches that disappeared for a time and returned for which no cause can be found. Four of them committed suicide apparently in an episode of severe head pain. Of course," he said in a disapproving tone, "in an uncontrolled experiment like this...and given the fact that no one is going to look too hard for a cause...it becomes difficult to follow up. We can only assume that the pain ultimately became too severe and that pain medication didn't help or that they were on illegal drugs and has some sort of a reaction." He had tried to warn the Consortium that results in controlled experiments were not reliable.

"We have been over this ground before," snapped a German. "It would have been too dangerous to experiment on the sort of subject you wanted at this early stage."

"A lot of these men are junkies...how do you expect..."

"Just do your job," said the Englishman. "What about the FBI Agent?"

"We have not been able to plant the listening devices in his home as ordered," said the youngest man in the room and the new "head" of security. He was proud of his new position and a bit nervous among these men who did not seem to tolerate failure.

"And why not?"

"Because, Sir, we have not been able to penetrate the security system. No one gets in and out of that house unwanted. I've never seen a system like it Sir."

"They have a housekeeper do they not?"

"Unapproachable, Sir. An old family friend. Can't be bought. She does all the cleaning herself and never sends a substitute. The man in question pays her very well...more than well enough for her to report any suspicious inquiries on the part of outsiders."

"Everyone is vulnerable. What about her family? Have you threatened..."

"I forbade it," snapped the smoking man. "It is too dangerous right now."

"The baby sitter?" inquired the Frenchman.

"His aunt, Sir. A millionaire in her own right."

A mutter went around the table.

"Indeed..." said the Englishman finally. He realized he had slipped. He should have known this. He should not have assumed that the babysitter was the crazy fortune teller he had assumed. Perhaps the flaky Sophia was not as flaky as everyone thought, not if she was related to the old man. He had been a shrewd old bastard. The project never could have been started without him. It dawned on him suddenly that if the old man's daughter were living on the premises, it could very well be dangerous to try to penetrate the house. It was necessary, however.

"I want the house bugged," he ordered. "You aren't being paid to make excuses."

"Yes, Sir..."

"Think of it gentlemen...think of the potential here...trained agents sent to do a job...an accident...no memory...and no murder or assassination to make the police or the world suspicious. Judiciously used by a few knowledgeable individuals, and this drug could potentially save covert operations."

The standing man took a drag on his Morley.

"Now," asked the Englishman, "has anyone anything to report on the FBI Agent?" He glared at the smoking man.

"Said Agent has returned to work...half time...light duty.

All indications are that he remembers nothing. Listening devices placed in the therapists office indicate that he is not at all suspicious and genuinely believes he was in a car accident. Devices planted in the office indicate the same."

"Well, at least some good news," stated a man who spoke with a French accent. "It is a pity we have not been able to bring this man around to our side. He would be a fine player in the coming new order."

The smoking man said not another word. He was astounded by the arrogance. These people had no concept whatsoever about what the new order might mean. They only thought they did. There was the agenda they had been told about, but perhaps there was another agenda as well, one that they had been blind to. Perhaps in the near future, none of them would be needed and their quest for power would come to naught. He had always believed that what he was doing was right for the country ultimately, but he was starting to wonder about some of the others.

Sometimes he thought he was getting too old for all of this...what would be would be...but there was no escape now, not if he wanted to live and see the new order in place whatever that might be. As he stubbed out his cigarette and said good bye, he had an odd thought. He found himself wondering what it must be like to romp and play with little ones. He pushed that thought aside too. He had better watch himself.

Four Weeks Later

Dewayne Bothrington tapped his fingers idly. He was close. He knew it. And the arrogance of it infuriated him.

Philadelphia, Watts, Harlem...nearly 100 young men.

Many of them were junkies, a curse on God's earth, but too many of them weren't. Too many of them were just decent men and some of them were exceptional like young Jamal Jefferson. They, whoever they were, had gotten careless with Jamal. The bastards had assumed that every young black man living in the ghetto they decided to use was a good for nothing and that no one would be paying attention, but Jamal had been different. Killer Dog had been right. Killer Dog, as far gone as he had been, had instinctively known that Jamal was special, that Jamal would have made it out of the projects. As lacking in morals as Killer had been, he had seen something different in Jamal. Jamal had been a straight A student, a senior in the same high school that his sisters attended. He had just won a scholarship to Notre Dame, an academic scholarship, not the kind you won for tossing a ball. He would not have stolen the car that he had been in an accident in. He had his ticket out of the projects in his hand. Jamal really pissed Both off.

Now he had to decide how to handle it. This was big, as big as Mulder had hinted from time to time, so big that he doubted he could stop it. It was like the flood of crack that had come into the city. Bothrington was a pragmatic man and doubted very much that he could stop it completely, but he sure as hell felt as though he had to try at least to slow it down. He had been spending his days out in the factory district in Long Island City Queens. A lot had been done to improve and upgrade parts of the area, but there were other parts which had been left alone. Careful checking of the records had shown him that a company the name of PharmaKlear had purchased an old warehouse and office building and set up shop in a section marred empty warehouses and closed factories. Then they had quietly commenced using dummy corporations buying up the land around it so that no one else could move in near by. They had refurbished the buildings nicely. Everyone had praised the young company and there were hopes that its presence would begin an economic revitalization for that area and perhaps even some new upscale residential housing. Ostensibly PharmaKlear manufactured low cost generic over the counter and some prescription drugs including some of the psychotropics. Everyday a slew of workers went in and came out. All appeared normal. True they only ran two shifts leaving the building "empty" at night, but the company was fairly new and no one would question that. He had noticed a pattern though. After the main shifts had gone, after it had grown dark, another smaller shift had come on duty and these people didn't look the same. These were not factory workers from Columbia and Nicaragua and Latvia and even some native born Americans.

He wasn't 100% sure of himself of course, but 99% would just have to do him in this case. It had taken him weeks of painstaking research to discover that PharmaKlear was the only company that fit the bill for what he suspected was going on, the illegal manufacture of experimental drugs.

No matter how deep he attempted to dig, he had not been able to find any connection with government funding, but that hadn't surprised him. He had been limited in what he could do. If it had become known that he suspected anything other than what he had put in his formal report...that Mulder had been in a car accident, he wouldn't have been on the street for a day in one piece. This was a dangerous game he was playing and he hadn't even been able to tell Mulder. He suspected...no he was sure that the office was bugged...and that meant some pretty heavy shit.

It was the goddamned FBI Headquarters after all. He even had to be careful about he communicated with Skinner.

He finally decided what he had to do. He went into the office of the New York Times and placed an ad for cash in the paper. Then he traveled to the Bronx and went into a bar, an upscale place that had just opened in a neighborhood that was in the process of revitalization. It had computers. It was time for Aunt B to send a message.

He didn't stay long. There were not a lot of black people in this area. He didn't want to be traceable. Skinner needed to find a way to get himself to the New York Field Office.

They needed to find a way to get into the factory.

What could Dana say to Aunt Sophia? The woman never took a vacation and had only been sick once. If she had to go out of town, she had to go out of town. Aislinn was back and only had classes in the morning, so Dana arranged her work day so that she could go in late and Aislinn would watch the twins until Mulder got home. Her mom would help in a pinch, and even her mother's friend who came and cleaned for them had always said that in an emergency she would try to help out too.

"Don't worry about it, Aunt Sophia," said Dana with a smile. "If your friend in New York is ill, then you have to go. We will manage just fine." She reached over in the car and gave her aunt a quick kiss as the woman popped out of the car carrying her one small bag to catch the flight to LaGuardia.

On her way home, Dana wondered just what the heck Both was doing with himself. He had asked her if he could borrow some money, cash, and she had leant it to him without question. Mulder didn't know of course. She probably would not have done it, except she had the strangest feeling that Both was not wiling away his time and her money in Jamaica sitting on the beach drinking rum punches. Somehow she sensed that if it hadn't concerned Mulder, he would never have asked. He would have too much pride.

As for Mulder, she was growing concerned about him. Oh, everything was still fine between them, and he was really very fond of the children now, but once he had returned to work full time, his headaches had returned again and they were getting worse.

Sophia got off the Flushing line at Queens Plaza. She was on schedule. It was getting dark. She thought to herself that it had been years since she had been out this way. It was a perfect area for what was happening. The opening of a new plant would be welcome, but parts of it were isolated enough that no one would know if any funny business were going on. She ignored the hookers that stood on the corners and making certain that no one was following her, she took a circuitous route to the place where she was supposed to meet Both. It was a long walk, but the weather was decent and she was in remarkably good condition for an "old lady."

When she arrived at their headquarters...a derelict factory with a rather large rat population, she listened to the black man carefully. As she did so, Sophia was already removing her loud garish gypsy clothes under which she wore a comfortable black jump suit.

"Do you think...are you sure you can pull this off Sophia, because if you get caught..."

"If I get caught Both, what the hell are they going to do with me? Shoot me? I've lived a long and full life.

Besides, I have never gotten caught."

"Sounds ominous..."

"Is..." she laughed. "I just wish I could be sure that Mulder will be okay."

"I'm expecting a friend back from Nigeria at any moment," he said softly. "She thinks she might have found something."

Sophia nodded. Both's story had made her sick, and if what was happening was any indication, each and every subject would eventually wind up dead. The drug was somehow poisonous in a way that had not been anticipated with a slow acting toxin that poisoned the body and drove the victim mad with pain. In some it happened faster than in others. When he had told her about Jamal Jefferson, a tear had come to her eye. She wasn't a sentimental woman, but the idea of a young man with a mind like that being in such agony that he would take a gun, not hard to find in the ghetto, and blow his brains out right in front of his mother saddened her deeply. Fox's headaches were coming back and Fox had access to all kinds of weapons. If anything happened to him...

"Okay, this is how it is going to go down," he said. "You are going to break in. It is imperative that you find this drug and make certain that it is left where it can be found.

In 45 minutes I am going to make an anonymous phone call to the FBI and to the hotel of Assistant Director Skinner that there is a hostage situation at PharmaKlear and that it might involve an international situation...Sophia nodded. Both was a brilliant man. She of course, had her own backup plan.

Almost everything went in the fire...everything of course except a small fireproof locker that just happened to contain two vials of the experimental drug and a computer disk with the name of the subjects and the background on the experiments. The files of course were encoded.

Sophia had known what she had the moment she had bypassed security and gotten into the lab. She hadn't had much time, but she was sure she had gotten the right thing.

The fire had been a little tricky, and not a part of the plans, but once she was certain that no one would be injured, she had decided that it would be best not to slow them down a little but to slow them down a lot.

Both had made his call right on schedule. By that time, however, the SWAT Team and FBI including the Assistant Director had been close on the heals of the NYC Fire Department. Both had arrived on the scene himself an hour later in standard FBI dress. Sophia had disappeared into the night.

"Assistant Director Skinner," he said, "I heard on my scanner that something big was going on down here. I got here as fast I could in case you needed some extra help."

"That was most kind of you, Agent Bothrington. You are a very dedicated agent."

"Thank you, Sir. What happened, Sir."

"We got an anonymous phone call that there was a hostage situation going on out here and that it might be international in scope. What we found instead was an apparent burglary and arson. Looks like everything was destroyed."

"Everything, Sir?" he inquired.

"Well, Agent, nearly. We found a fireproof locker that had been tossed out the window. In fact, I have it right here.

You've missed most of the action, however, this could be important. Do you think you might see that it gets to the lab in DC yourself?"

"I'm on it, Sir. My mother is feeling much better again, and I'll leave on the next flight."

He didn't of course. He arranged to miss that one just in case there had been ears around. Very carefully he and Sophia took a sample of the drug and made a copy of the zip disk she had rescued before torching the place and then Both headed for DC via Chicago under a different name with a ticket paid for in cash where he knew that in any case, the evidence would disappear within 24 hours of him checking it in.

He was pleased with the headlines the next day.

Apparently, he was not the only one who made anonymous phone calls.

"Factory of Horrors in Queens Destroyed by Fire" "Could the US Government be Funding Another Tuskegee

Experiment" Then there were the tabloids... "Could Aliens Be Running Drug Factory in Queens"

The phone rang in the X-Files Office.

"Oh, hello mama," he said softly. "Yes, it's in the papers here too. No mama, I didn't have anything to do with it until an hour later...honest. I missed all the good stuff and just brought some files back to DC. Yes, mama, that is very good news. I was glad I caught it on the scanner. I'll be up to see you again this weekend just to make sure you really are back on your feet again for sure this time. I'm glad your boss was understanding, mama. Okay, maybe I will, but only if your promise to cook some of your best dishes."

He hung up the phone.

Mulder looked at him tiredly. His head was throbbing and he thought he would probably have to go home but he was fighting it. He had a feeling that there had been more to that factory fire in Queens than anyone had let on, but he knew better than to talk about it here.

"That was my mama," said Both. "She worries."

"She should," grinned Mulder in spite of the headache.

"Both how the hell..." Mulder stopped and shook his head.

Some things were best not discussed, especially when your crazy aunt decided to show up for baby-sitting duty the next morning with her eyebrows and eye lashes singed off.

Although he was dying of curiosity, he knew he would be told the details when it was safe.

"What mama's are for, Mulder. Speaking of mama's, I've told her so much about you and Scully that she wants the two of you to come to New York for dinner this weekend."

Mulder was deeply touched. "I don't see how we can, Both, much as I'd like to. I mean...with the kids..." He rubbed his head. He didn't feel up to a trip. The door to the office opened and Scully came in. "Hi, Voo Doo..."

"Hi, Irish...this hubby of yours is giving me a hard time.

My mama invited you all up to New York for dinner next Sunday and he's arguing with me."

"But what about the kids?" she asked. "I mean..."

"You bring the kids. You bring Sophia. I have three sisters. They'll love the kids. They'll love your aunt who can entertain them in the car. It will be good for you get away."

"We'll be there," said Dana looking into the man's dark eyes. Something told her that Sunday dinner in New York was going to be very very important and she didn't know why. Aunt Sophia's singed eyelashes hadn't passed her either, and in spite of having found a burned pot in the trash, the story about nearly setting the kitchen on fire didn't quite wash.

Chapter 15

The dinner had been both huge and delicious. Dana found herself admiring Both's mother very much. The apartment was small and old, the neighborhood dangerous being so close to the crime infested projects, and yet it was spotless.

She supposed that most of the furniture was second hand, gleaned from thrift stores, and that the immaculately pressed curtains that hung on the windows were from the five and dime, and yet there was something in this house that was lacking in the surrounding area. There was hope.

Ronetta had succeeded in giving hope to her son and the same to her daughters. She found herself feeling comfortable with the woman and her children in spite of the fact that all the odds were against it in a society that didn't necessarily encourage the mixing of races. And the girls were lovely and simply adored the twins. They were at the age where they loved to play with little children.

Fortunately in defiance of the odds in this area, they had none of their own, and Ronetta had made no hesitation at saying right at the dinner table, that her girls were going to marry good men and have nice houses before they had children...or else...Dana had smiled. The message had been clear. There was something about Ronetta that reminded her of her own mother, strong, unpretentious, and with an instinctive knowledge that nothing was more important than family. Her biggest worry at the moment was Mulder. She knew that he was trying to put a good face on it, but his head was hurting him again badly and she had vowed to make him have yet more tests done when they returned to DC.

Dana listened in sympathy as Ronetta told her son that since the week before she had heard that the landlord was talking about selling the building and she was afraid they might have to find another place to live. Both didn't think that news was so bad, but kept his mouth shut. His family had been there for so many years it would be hard for his mother to change places now and move away from her many friends and nothing could be found for that rent any more. He might have to go back to helping out after all but that was okay with him. He would have liked to see them someplace else.

"Time to go for a walk," said Both. "Want to show you the old neighborhood."

"I don't think I can," said Mulder. He was the only one who hadn't eaten much. He had explained to Ronetta that it wasn't the cooking, that he would like to be his normal self and pig out, but that his head hurt very badly since he had been in an accident and that it upset his stomach if he hate too much. The woman had nodded politely and smiled enigmatically.

"I agree with Both," said Dana. "The fresh air might do you good."

"Fresh air, in New York?" he inquired with a hint of his old Mulder humor.

"I think he is going to live," quipped Sophia dryly. "I'll come along."

"But the children..." said Fox.

"These three girls are not looking to give up those babies just yet." She smiled. "Besides, at their age baby sitting money is always nice. What would you girls charge..."

"$5.00 an hour," said Tamika quickly only to be reprimanded by her mother.

"Well, " laughed Sophia, "This is New York...an expensive town...You've got a deal young ladies. And please don't be angry, Ronetta. Trustworthy sitters are hard to find and worth every penny that you pay them!"

Both led them to the back door of a shop and knocked softly three times and then twice loudly.

The door was opened by a dark eyed child who quickly disappeared and they went up a set of narrow dark stairs quickly.

"Um...what are we doing, Both?" asked Mulder quietly.

"Finding a cure for you."

They were shown into a clean apartment. An elderly black woman stepped out from behind a curtain and gazed at them. She stared for a long time.

"You," she said to Mulder, "You had no fear of the Teliko...no that is not true. You had fear, but you ignored it."

Then she turned to Dana..."Descendent of the flame haired warrior women...it is you who rid the world of its evil...You have the gift of prophecy , but you hide it even from yourself. No matter. I have the herbs...I have the cure, but we must try it on someone first. This time it will be the white man."

She produced a vial and some disposable needles. "If it works, money will be required to see that all the victims get the antidote..."

Mulder's head was throbbing so badly suddenly that he had to grab ahold of the furniture to keep upright.

"Now wait just a moment," said Dana, "you can't just inject my husband with..."

"If I do not, he is a dead man. If I do, perhaps he will live..."

"Sister Nia is an expert herbalist, Dana..." said Both quietly.

"I'm sorry but without complete analysis..." began Scully taking her husband's arm...Sophia had remained silent studying the situation.

"Catherine," she said softly, suddenly.

The woman turned toward her.

"I am Sister Nia," she said.

"But you are also Catherine...remember the little girl in Tanzania Nassifa... after the circumcision...how she very nearly died of the infection...such a beautiful child..."

"But she did not die, did she Sophia..." Suddenly the elderly woman smiled. "You and I, we would save the world back then...a black woman and a white woman in a world the white man thought was his, still thinks is his."

"I'd like to think we've slowed the bad guys down at least a little..." and then there arms were around each other.

"I thought you had died in Kenya, Catherine," said Sophia finally.

"This is what I preferred the world to think."

Suddenly the pain in his head had grown unbearable. Fox let out an audible moan and collapsed on to the sofa. The woman known as Sister Catherine grabbed a bowl and quickly discarded the artificial flowers in it while Mulder lost whatever he had eaten.

"I fear there is not much time," said the woman. "And it would be best if he did not die here. If he does, all the work I do in the neighborhood will come to nothing."

"Give him the shot," said Sophia quickly. She didn't say it quickly enough, however. Her nephew let out an agonized scream and fell to the floor. As Dana was moving toward him, he pulled his gun and put it next to his head.

"Fox, no..." cried Dana desperately.

"The pain...can't stand the pain..." He might have pulled the trigger in that instant but his hand was shaking and he couldn't quite squeeze it. It gave Both the time he needed to take a flying leap. The gun fired once, the bullet hitting the ceiling behind them as Mulder was tackled to the floor.

"Give him the shot," snapped Sophia. "Dana...the alcohol..."

"But..." Dana started to protest but she was already moving toward her husband. He was struggling, beating his head, and Both couldn't hold him much longer.

"Catherine is a British educated physician. We studied together. She is quite brilliant in spite of being as insane as I am, Dana. Trust me on this." It was the best consolation she had to offer Dana just now.

"Keep holding him down, Dew," said the woman. She filled the syringe and squirted out a small amount and then finding a blood vessel injected it right into his blood stream.

The pain actually got worse. He heard himself screaming and couldn't stop. Someone handed him a towel and told him to bite down on it. The voice was familiar, but he wasn't sure who it was. He listened only because it was easier than trying to fight. He felt the whole thing, the entire seizure. It was horrible. His body shook uncontrollably as a knife stabbed through his head, and then suddenly his body relaxed and for the first time in a long time, he was totally free from pain. He eyes closed and he fell into a deep deep sleep.

The woman she knew as Sister Nia and as Catherine took out a blood pressure cup and a stethoscope even as Dana watched.

"Heart rate, normal," she announced. Then she took his blood pressure. "120 over 80...It does not get much better than that."

"After that seizure he should be in the hospital..." said Dana...

"No hospital. You will speak of this to no one. I think it would be best if he was left here to sleep..."

"Dana," said Sophia quietly, "Catherine is right...I'll stay with Mulder. You have Both take you and the kids to the hotel and I'll call you later. Catherine and I have a lot to catch up on...and don't forget to pay the girls..."

Dana looked at her husband. With a hand that shook she brushed his hair away from his face gently. "Please be okay, Fox," she whispered softly and with a nod to her aunt, she left the apartment feeling helpless.

As Both was escorting her out the door reluctantly, she heard Sophia turn around say to the friend of her youth.

"Why you old bullshit artist you...I bet its you that runs that voo doo shop downstairs...You haven't changed a bit in 40 years...and don't try to tell me those are real plaster saints I saw in the window..."

"I'm Sister Nia now...and there is no bullshit about Shango..."

"Yeah...right...just like there is no bull shit in the fortunes I tell in the tea shop my niece's sister runs in Washington.

Come on girl...fix us some tea and we'll catch up on old times."

24 Hours Later

The drive back to Washington with the kids took somewhat longer than they had expected mainly because they had to rent a car. Mulder's had been stolen. He started out the trip singing "I love New York." Truth was, he had hated that damned van anyway although he supposed now he'd have to buy a new one. He felt good. He still didn't remember a damned thing, but he felt good...great in fact.

"No cookies yet, Patrick," admonished Sophia. "They will be gone by the time we reach the Verrazano Bridge."

"By the way, does anyone have cash for the toll?" inquired Dana.

"Aw jeez...I knew I should have flown back with Both," moaned Mulder. "Well, at least I don't have a headache.

Whatever is in that shit the good sister gave me..."

"Sit...Sit...Sit..." repeated Brenda. Scully rolled her eyes.

Finally they hit the New Jersey Turnpike and when the smell around the Elizabeth area where the oil refineries were running in full swing didn't make his head throb and his stomach turn, he figured he would be okay. He was already regretting the fact that he had missed most of Ronetta's cooking but the woman had been most

understanding. He was a little disappointed that he didn't remember anything, but he could survive that...Hell...he already had.

"Okay, Sophia, what's the scoop on the witch doctor?" inquired Dana finally.

"Witch doctor?" she asked innocently. "Oh, you mean Sister Nia...we studied medicine together. Ran off to Africa just as soon as we got our MD's...first West Africa, then Tanzania...then Kenya although of course it wasn't called that then. We were going to save the world. We might have done it too except that we got caught up in the Mau Mau uprising. She decided to disappear with the remnants of the movement. I, of course, could not do that although those poor people needed medical care desperately. I mean I would have stuck out a wee bit don't you think, and they would not have allowed a white woman to move with them anyway."

"But the Mau Mau's..." began Dana.

"Things are not always what they seem, Dana," said Sophia quietly, "As you well know. The people there were oppressed. Their culture, however primitive it might appear to us, had been torn away from them and had been replaced with oppression and people looking down at them as though they were something less than human. I'm not defending them, but the number of atrocities committed against the whites at that time was actually quite small. I might add that a lot of the people in the movement were ignorant superstitious people who were used by others seeking their own gains. People are people all over the world after all. Catherine went with them because medical care was desperately needed in the back country and word came back that she had been killed in a skirmish with the British. I had already left the country one step ahead of the colonial police."

"But she didn't die," said Fox softly intrigued with the story.

"No...she didn't..." said Sophia. "She spent time in Africa and the Caribbean studying herbs and traditional medicine and even learning about the religions. There aren't a hell of a lot of doctors in the projects, Dana," said Sophia, but under the cover of her shop, she can dispense herbal medicines to the poor and the ignorant and the superstitious, the people no one care about. When necessary, she can see that they get traditional medicine. I for one am not going to stand in judgment of her because she doesn't have a license. Catherine would never hurt a soul. All she wanted to do was practice medicine. Only God knows how many lives she has saved. This is why it is so important that her work be allowed to continue. You think you have had it rough trying to make it in a man's world sometimes, but you have no idea what it was like back then for women...for black women especially. Sister Nia the Voo Doo Queen as you called her is a walking talking miracle even if it isn't the sort you would approve of."

Dana only nodded. There wasn't much she could say. Aunt Sophia was right. She had been quick to be distrustful, not surprising under the circumstances, but she had also been quick to be judgmental and found herself contemplating on the ride home the difference between the rosary she still said on those rare occasions when she attended church and the offerings other made to the spirits hidden behind the guise of the plaster saints that Sister Nia sold in her shop.

The woman had saved Mulder's life with her non traditional ways and that was more important than anything to Dana.

Chapter 16

Dana Scully put her hands on her hips and glared at her husband. He knew that she was about to issue an ultimatum.

"My mother and Walter and Little Fox are coming over for dinner and that is all there is to it."

"So who died and left you boss, Scully?" he demanded. He was still feeling good. Whatever the hell had been in Sister Catherine's shot, it had killed the headaches entirely and done a hell of a lot for his love life which hadn't been exactly to begin with. He had been back at work full time for a month now and had solved two more cases, real X-Files, not just criminal stuff. Best yet, Dana had been with him on the cases and it had been like old times. Both was cool, but there was no one like his Dana to work cases with, especially in the hotel room at night. Of course, Skinner had given him a hard time about the one, hadn't even wanted to authorize it, however, instead of admitting that he had been wrong when Mulder had proved his theory, all Skinner had done was to harass him about the paper work. God, he hated bureaucrats. It was difficult, no impossible, for him to swallow the fact that he and Skinner had been good friends.

"No one died, thank God...Even you lived, Mulder...lived to have dinner with Walter and my mother and the baby tonight. We had to miss his birthday party because you are so damned stubborn and wouldn't go. Tonight you are going to be civilized or I'll..." She had been really furious when her husband had refused to go to Walter's party, but she had cut him some slack on it because they had just returned from a case and he was miffed because the AD had been on his case about the paper work. She had run out of patience with him however. He hadn't stopped to think that perhaps he had hurt her mother's feelings.

"You'll what?" he inquired. Suddenly his eyes lit. "I know...you'll tell me no sex for two weeks...right Scully..."

"Don't tempt me," she snapped.

He eased a little closer to her and his arms snaked around her. Slowly they slipped a little lower than they needed to.

She had, he thought, a beautiful butt. He heard her sigh as she leaned a little closer to him, but then suddenly Patrick and Brenda were there expecting to be in on the hugs. Cute as the kids were, that was one aspect to his sudden fatherhood that he could have done without...them = interrupting his access to his wife.

"Okay, okay," he muttered giving in as the three of them hugged him, "I'll try to be good...but if he aggravates me...that's it. Say, isn't it time for these two to take a nap?"

He was enjoying the hugs and the love that flowed from the three of them, but he also had other things on his mind.

"Good idea..." she grinned. "But don't get your hopes up or your...you know what...for that matter. Well..too late there but... Patrick hasn't been cooperating too well lately."

"I noticed..."

An hour later, Dana was up feeling very mellow indeed working on the birthday cake. Mulder was upstairs with the two babies in bed. They had cooperated and stayed quiet in their cribs just long enough for a quick tumble, but that was okay. Mulder was so ready it would have been a quick tumble even if they had slept all afternoon. It hadn't taken her long to get into the spirit either. She grinned wickedly as she turned on the mixer. She had always been such a goody two shoes. There was something so delightfully evil about being on top of her handsome husband nearly fully dressed because they couldn't wait doing what came naturally. He had sworn it was her screaming that woke up the kids, but she had told him it was all his fault because he hadn't been exactly quiet himself. She realized she was on the verge of overmixing her cake batter and decided she had better concentrate on the batter in bowl.

That night, the dinner went reasonably well. They mainly stuck to family gossip throughout the meal and of course with three kids running around it wasn't easy to talk about adult things anyway. Given the size of the family, there was always a lot of gossip, too much, thought Fox attempting not to look too bored because he had promised to be good and he had already been given his reward that afternoon. Quite a reward it had been too. His prim and proper partner was not quite so prim and proper in the throes of passion.

Dana found herself rather dumbstruck when Walter told her that his sister was pregnant again. She remembered the three kids from her first rather odd wedding ceremony. She pushed aside a pang of grief for Gran.

"A little surprise," said Walter. "She's feeling a bit frantic I think. I mean it was rough being a minister with three children and now to start all over again with a new baby..."

"Happens," muttered Mulder. Everyone looked at him.

"Well, hell, I've got a set of twins and I have no idea where they came from..." He managed a grin. He wasn't entirely sure he cared about Walter's sister, or Melissa and Colton, or the fact that Dani had to wear glasses now. No, he was absolutely sure he didn't care. He wanted to watch the game on TV. There were still times when he felt like he was in an alternate universe, but his love for Dana kept him sane, and now that he was no longer in pain and filled with resentment, she was more relaxed and made an effort to give him additional space when he needed it. He wondered if that would include enough space to be rude and go watch the game. Somehow he didn't think so.

"Why don't you guys take this to the family room while Dana and I do the dishes," said Margaret looking at her watch. She sensed that Fox was getting restless and she knew Walter wanted to see the game. "Then we'll bring out the drop clothes and have some of my daughter's famous chocolate cherry cake." It was her hope that if the two men were left alone they might come to some sort of a truce.

"I think if we wait a little while Aunt Sophia will be home," said Dana. "Meantime I'll get the coffee started."

The two men took the kids to the improvised family room and Mulder switched on the big screen TV he had insisted they needed when they had returned from New York.

What was the point of being rich if you couldn't have a big screen TV. He had ignored Dana's protests entirely. There was a Knicks game in progress. He had been really pissed at the idea of company during the Knicks game, but, he realized, he hadn't missed much. He offered a silent thanks to Margaret. His mother-in-law could be a real angel of mercy.

Walter Skinner sat on the sofa on the far side from Fox.

"We found your blood samples, the ones that were stolen from the lab," he said to Mulder quietly during a break in the play.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked.

"Oddly, they didn't show the same results that the blood samples Both had analyzed did."

"Oddly?"

"I was being facetious, Mulder. They were very clever.

The samples were supposedly =D4lost' and then clean ones substituted. So much more plausible than to have them actually stolen."

"Bastards," he muttered. He had expected no less. In fact, he wasn't entirely certain Skinner hadn't been in on it. The pause in the game was over and play started again. The men watched silently. Skinner was very much aware of what went through Fox's mind and it disturbed him. He didn't feel that he had ever done anything to deserve it. He recognized that Mulder was making an effort to be polite and knew that Scully must have issued an ultimatum. Be nice or else...Scully had put up with a lot from him during this latest nightmare. He had been so tempted to punch his son-in-law's lights out. Somehow though, Scully had managed to strike the proper balance with him, and Walter supposed he should be glad that at least the marriage had been saved.

The kids were climbing all over him, and giving up, Mulder took himself to the floor. He stretched out his long slender body in front of the TV. Brenda and Patrick soon seemed to get tired of bouncing on him and found some toys, but suddenly Skinner's son lay down on top of him and rested his head against Fox's shoulder. It took Mulder by surprise, and he was tempted to dump the little boy on the floor or tell Skinner to come and get him, but a tiny thumb went into a small mouth and the boy started making sucking noises. He smelled sweet, of baby sweat and talcum powder, little boy sweet. Fox knew the child would soon be asleep and brought his hand around the boys back and rubbed it lightly making certain he didn't slip off his chest. As he stared at the TV, he heard music, strange exotic music, and felt his arms around Dana as they sat in the grass listening. He tasted beer and heard himself whispering in her ear... "Marry me, Scully, and I'll show you how afraid I am of bodily fluids..." She had told him that story...but no... He saw himself suddenly in a bathtub, a red-haired woman gently washing his chest as he inhaled the scent of lemon. "Have you ever made love to a virgin?" He hadn't, and then he had, beautifully. He was in a bed, a very old bed...He could feel the shudder as he filled the woman beneath him with himself and knew that he had made a baby with her...The sound of girlish laughter brushed across his mind. Pictures popped into his head, beautiful pictures, ugly pictures...his wife lying on the floor in a pool of blood...the surge of agony at a baby lost...Making love on a table that collapsed...laughing as a bird shrieked "Help Mulder, Help Murder."

He could feel the small child he held breathing against his chest and he inhaled sharply. He was suddenly in the hospital...and Skinner was there...and there was a baby being born...Patrick...Brenda...No...this little boy...JF...Junior Fox...Margaret was having surgery...and then suddenly, there he was, so tiny, all bald and wrinkled and beautiful, laying across Margaret's chest. In his mind, Fox watched the new family bond...a little miracle baby born to a mother too old, and he had been there for the whole thing. They had placed the little boy in his arms...JF...Junior Fox...Patrick wondered over to him...not Patrick...Wally Wolf...God, what a stupid name...Wally Wolf...but...There was Dana screaming...She was lying on the bed. A nurse had one infant in her arms, a beautiful red headed girl and his heart was filled with joy...and then there was his wife screaming...there was Walter catching him as he was about to fall...setting him in a chair as there were discussions about surgery...and then suddenly there was

Patrick...bloody, wrinkled...a little blue...his bonus baby...his son...he beautiful boy, his little Wally Wolf.

Walter looked away from the game. It was too quiet.

Mulder lay on the floor with JF asleep on his chest. Patrick sat beside him and Brenda had wondered over and set herself near her brother and rested her head on Fox's hip.

Tears were streaming down Mulder's face. Skinner wasn't quite certain what to do. He seemed okay, but he was crying silently. Finally Walter decided he should go get Dana in the kitchen.

As he got to his feet, Mulder said quietly, "I'm sorry, Walter...I know I've been a bastard these weeks...I just didn't...I just didn't remember...until now..."

Skinner bent down on the floor beside him.

"It's okay, son," he said quietly. "It's not your fault."

Gently he lifted the baby away from his son-in-law and placed him on the couch covering him with the afghan.

Fox sat up almost in a daze.

"I think...I think I'm going to be very angry later, dad. I can forgive almost anything...but they tried to steal...they tried to take...this from me," he softly gesturing to the house and the children. " I thought no one could ever take my memories. I'm not sure I can forgive that...ever..."

"They failed...They failed again, son, and one of these days we are going to bring the bastards to justice." Skinner smiled. It was time to give Mulder a little space to pull himself together. "I'm going to go see what is keeping that chocolate cake."

"Yeah...good idea..." he said wiping his eyes quickly. As Walter started to leave the room Fox interrupted.

"Walter..."

"Yeah..."

"Um...happy birthday..."

Walter never got a chance to say thanks. Sophia burst in the door with all the dogs just as Dana and Margaret appeared singing Happy Birthday. All three kids started to cry.

The End