Title: Great Men Universe: The Beginning
Author: The Phile Formerly Known as Soapie
Rating: PG-13
Classification: V
Spoilers: Emily
Keywords: Alternate Universe

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully, their surnames as well as the characters of Fox and Dana, Well-Manicured Man are property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and FOX Broadcasting. They are in no way mine, I did not create them nor am I using them with permission. The characters of Samantha and Scott Scully, however, are my own creation. As far as I know there is no such store as BOOKS-BOOKS-BOOKS, but if there is some shop called that somewhere then it is not mine. Also, the book The Rules is not mine; it was written by Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider, and at least one edition was printed as a paperback by Warner Books. The Title of the book is being used without permission, and no money is being made off of the use of the book Title, or of the X-Files characters, or off of the mentioning of the book's publisher. NO INFRINGEMENT INTENDED.

Summary: Set in the same universe as the story Great Men, this explains how Samantha and Scott Scully were born the children of Mulder and Scully in 1995 and how they came to be Scullys in 2000.

Author's note: This is the prequel to Great Men: Parts 1,2, and 3, (the conclusion.) That is why is it set in the "Great Men Universe" the world I have created to fit my characters, Scott and Sam Scully, the children of our heros. This story explains the beginning of Sam and Scott in Mulder and Scully's lives in relation to my other story, Great Men. Lucky for you, this story stays put in one time, 2000. Enjoy!


Government testing facility
Location Unknown
July 29, 2000

"So, shall I dispose of them?"

The old man looked up from watching the children through the one-way glass, startled suddenly by the docter's voice. When he spoke his few words were as fine and well trimmed as his finger nails:

"You're sure everything's finished?"

The younger, shorter, balding man nodded his response, moving his clipboard for emphasis.

"Yes, sir. Every test we wanted to do we've completed. The children have shown no extremely superior brain function levels dispite the alien influence in their blood; we can see clearly even after five years of study that the mixing of the doctored sperm with the woman's egg was a success, but not one of value to us. They're just too human: physically they are completely human, and so far as they've shown, emotionally too. The twins are healthy, perceptive, energetic--"

"They're prisoners," the older man interupted, his voice soft but his meaning clear.

The doctor hesitated. "Well, y..yes sir, but not for much longer, I asure you. We have to...to dispose of them; we've no need for them anymore, not after what happened last year." He figdeted with his tie and waited for the Brittish man's response.

"No child should be kept a prisoner, Dr. Benth. I should have stopped this long ago."

"But...but sir, they will no longer be prisoners....perhaps we won't dispose of them...perhaps we can put them in an orphanage, moniter them in a real human situation."

The dignified older man turned to the nervous doctor now, his well-manicured hands clasped loosely behind his back, his eyebrows up in surprise. "Oh, but Dr. Benth, they're not orphans."

Benth ducked his head nervously and muttered,"Ye...yes sir."

He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but this man was in charge, this distinguished older man who was evil while at the same time harboring a gentle love for children. He'd been against the tests all along; everything that ever happened simply to make patients X34798 and X34799 more comfortable had been his doing. And Benth never understood that; clones were not supposed to be so much like the original, and he was constantly unnerved that the clone of Well-Manicured Man was so damn calm about the whole situation. Benth waited for him to speak.

"Yes, I think it's time they are returned to their parents, don't you?"

Benth ducked his head again.

The man continued, "Make it easy for them to be found; dropping them on a doorstep will not be nessecary, off course," and here he chuckled, "but see that they are delivered to the parents; one of them at least should be able to look after the two. Explain only what is necessary, and use any means to ensure that they do not persue the case farther than what we offer them, understand?"

Benth ducked his head a third time and then backed quietly out of the room; the tall older man turned his kind cloned eyes once more upon the dark-haired pair playing quietly behind the one-way mirror.

Georgetown VA, August 1, 2000

Dana Scully shifted her copy of The Rules from her left hand to her right and wiggled her toes inside of her impractical, uncomfortable, but height-boasting heels. She scooted an inch or two up in the line to the coffee counter and shifted the book again.

Nothing sweet. Nothing fattening. Those three extra pounds are not going to dissappear on their own. You have self control. What am I talking about, self-control? I'm an FBI agent. I can hold 250 pound rapists at bay with a four inch metal bar shapped like Florida. I don't need ground-up triple-processed coco beans to feel satisfied.

She stepped up to the counter. The short blonde teenager with a name tag labeling her as a "Jenny" smiled.

Nothing sweet, nothing fattening. You're an FBI agent. You don't need ground up triple processed coco beans to -

"Can I help you, m'am?"

"Yes, I'll have the grande double chocolate latte with a black-and-white cookie and two of those almond biscottis."

Jenny flittered away just as the box that governed Starbuck's life began to ring.


"Yea, hey Scully, it's me. Look, they're having a book signing today at Books-Books-Books in Georgetown for the new Conspiricy Behind It All subtitle and since you're over there I wondered if you could hop in line and I'd meet you in five? I'm in the car now."

An exagerated exhale. "Mulder, how did you know I was here?"

"It's Saturday, Scully. If you're not at work I figured you'd be at a book store. Great time to catch up on that summer reading."

She looked down at the book in her hand and sighed inwardly. She checked her watch and peered over past book racks and counters to the far end of the store where a long line of computer nerds and sci-fi nuts waited eagerly. She rolled her eyes.

"All right Mulder. Be here."

"And Scully, as long as you're in line, you might want to pick up two or three copies for the -"

Click. She turned off the phone.

"Miss," she called; Jenny turned around in her never-failing cheerfulness. "I'd like to change that order; I'll have a small black coffee and a fat-free carob bar to go."

Scully looked back at the cover of the book in her hand. Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right. She dropped it on a nearby cart and went to pay for her food.

One Hour Later

She was the fourth person in line when the rep to the author stood up with a loud speaker and announced that said auther had to catch a plane for a BOOKS-BOOKS-BOOKS in Tampa and was no longer signing. Scully blew a breath up at her forehead and deposited the four copies she held on a shelf filled with a pile of the same.

Mulder, wherever you are, I'm going to kill you.

"Hey, Scully, why'd you get out of line?" a voice asked behind her.

She turned to face him, eyes ready with the icy glare. "Mulder! I've been waiting here for an hour you know."

"Yeah, yeah, Scully, I'm sorry, but I got a little...detoured. Um, why'd you get out of line?" He looked anxiously over to the table that proclaimed a visit by the brain of The Conspiricy Behind it All's newest subtitle. Scully sagged.

"The author left, Mulder. The signing's over. I've been in line for an hour; what took you so long?"

He put a hand to her elbow, looked around furtivly twice and ushered her over to a dark seldom-used corner of the travel section. He leaned closer down to her ear and whispered, "I was being followed."

She started in surprise: the eyebrows raised.


"I know what your thinking, Scully. I checked. A black van."

She dropped the skepticism and leaned in a bit, glancing to her left and right. "Well, did you lose them?" He shrugged; his black leather jacket squeaked a little.

"I think so. I'm not exactly sure." She widened her eyes and shook her head, unable to believe him.

"Mulder! You didn't make sure?! What were you thinking?"

She glanced suspiciously at a man browsing through a trip-tick. He looked up and caught her acusing glare, averting his eyes immediately. She looked back at Mulder and then dragged him around the huge wooden bookshelf, closer to the wall and farther from humanity. "Are they outside now?"

"I don't know, Scully. But I waited until I could get a good spot near the door before I parked, so we can leave right away if we have too."

"And take seperate cars?"


"Should we....now.." A nod.

They ducked their heads and sped for the door, a funny, paranoid pair glanceing left and right wherever they went. They walked quickly to their seperate cars and headed one after the other down the highway. A plain black van with tinted windows pulled out of an alley and followed them.

On the Road
45 minutes later

The cell phone on his passanger seat chirped. Looking ahead to the car in front of him he could see her with it to her ear. He picked up.

"Are they still there, Mulder?"

A glance on his part in the rear veiw mirror. "Two cars down on the right. We've driven in circles forever, Scully. I'm almost out of gas; I'm going to pull over."

"Do you have your gun?"

"Agent Scully, I didn't know you had such concern for my weapon." He could see her roll her eyes in the mirror of the car in front of him.


He glanced to the side, serious again. "Should be a gas station coming up at the left end of that long side road on your right."

Her turn signal flashed on. One after the other they made the turn and sped quickly down the long empty road, turning left into the huge empty gas station lot. Mulder pulled up to a self serve pump and got out, the phone still to his ear as he fitted the nozzel into the fuel door and watched Scully park at the far end of the lot near the exit, next to the curb but in plain view of the little food mart. She stayed in the car.

"I'm going inside. See anything?"

He looked right towards the road even as he asked this, but saw no van approaching. "No."

He turned and headed into the little food store, glancing around again as he did, but seeing nothing. Scully stayed in the car.

"Tell me if you see anything." He quickly navigated through the food-stocked aisles towards the counter in the back; he grabbed a pack of gum.

"I see nothing, Mulder."

He dropped the gum on to the counter and pointed to his car at pump three for the uninterested cashier.

"Wait, Mulder, I see something coming."

Mulder worked his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans. "What is it, Scully?"

He heard her sigh as he opened up his wallet to fish out some cash. "A semi, Mulder. Two of them, actually, and I think there was something after them, but I can't see now. One of them is in my way."

He dropped the cash on the counter and turned to look for her through the glass door, but as he did so a huge white truck pulled up to the deisal pump and blocked his view.

"Stay in the car, Scully." He turned back to the counter and watched as the slow cashier lazily clicked at the register with the tips of her fingers, avoiding any contact with the machine and her four inch curling nails.

"I can't see. I'm getting out of the car, Mulder."

"No, Scully, stay in the -" he could hear through the line her door open and close, and the sounds of the far-off highway filled his ears.

"Damn it!" directed at the room, not the cell phone.

"I see something, Mulder: a black van. Three of them, coming down the road."

He waited impatiented for the cashier to be finished. "Get back in the car Scully."

"Mulder I - Damn!--"

"What?!" He turned to the blocked glass door in vain.

"Locked my keys in the car," he sighed.

"Do you still see them?"

"Just a minute...yes. Yes, they're making the turn. Mulder....my gun is in the holster in the car."

"I'm coming out." He forgot the gas money and the gum and turned around, hurrying down the short mini-mart aisles. "Talk to me, Scully."

"Mulder, I lost sight of them. This damn truck is blocking me.....but I did see two vans not make the turn."

He rushed by a two-for-one sale potato chip mountain and a pile of six-packs and out the door.

"See anything yet, Scully?"

He skirted around the plain white semi and around to where her car was parked by the curb -

"No, Mulder."

And saw her standing there, facing him. He slowed down and relaxed, clicking off the cell phone; she did the same.

And then the huge truck behind her began to turn away, and Mulder could see a black van heading for Scully and he knew she couldn't see it.

He ran for her, shouting her name, and just when she saw the truck pull away entirely and the van in its place, she ducked and ran towards him; but she was too late. The black van drove parallel to her and the passanger window rolled down. Mulder was less than fifty feet from her when she fell, just dropped on the ground like a rock or a sack of potatoes....or a dead woman with her hand to her neck.

He was by her in an instant, ignoring the world around him, seeing nothing but her face: her beautiful, calm face. Icy blue eyes stared up at him but focused on the sky and did not see him. She let out a funny sound. He remembered holding her, rocking her back and forth; he may have cried. And then her eyes shut, and he looked up. The white trucks were gone; in their place were two more black vans, working with the first and Scully's parked car to trap him where he was: holding the woman he loved lying still in his arms.

A stout bald man stepped out of a van and stood in front of Mulder, two burly thugs steped behind him, just in case.

Mulder recovered from his shock and quickly chose anger as a primary emotion.


He stood, after placing Scully on the ground, and took a step towards the little man in the expensive suit. He reached back for his gun but the goons stepped forward and stopped him, one held his arms, one grabbed the weapon. The man in the middle sweated and loosened his tie.

"Now.....now...now...Mr., Mr. Mulder. we w...wouldn't want anything like that to happen, would we? We don't want any one to get hurt, do we?" Mulder was more outraged at that single stupid sentence than before.

"Hurt? Hurt, you lunatic?! What is it you want? Not to hurt us? You've killed her!"

The little man held up a hand. "Now, now...not killed. Never killed; just... restrained: it was a tranquilizer dart. I'm a doctor, and as you can see, well....there's no blood."

Mulder dropped back down to his knees quickly and removed Scully's smooth white hand from her neck. A small, thin metal dart stuck out; no bullet hole and no blood. He stood once more, upset by another horrifying thought.

"Why are you taking her again? Haven't you done enough to her? What is there left to do to torture the woman?" And the pain in his voice was evident. If he wasn't literally, inside this man was sobbing.

The doctor appeared flustered. "I'm not taking her anywhere....not taking anything from Ms. Scully.....in fact, and much against my better judgment, I'm returning something that belongs to her. Somethings, actually....ah, um....someones. Some children."

"Emily? Is it--are they like Emily? And you don't think that won't hurt her more?!" The expressions that danced across Mulder's face held varying degrees of pain and outrage. Scully's various possible emotion responses to such a shock flitted through his brain; various ways in which this possible joy would inevitably end and make her suffer. Dr. Benth held up his hands again, but this time the gesture seemed more helpless than demanding. His voice grew less shakey as he entered familier ground.

"No! Well, yes and no. The children are Ms. Scully's, and were concieved and born without her knowledge; but they are not so alien. Well, I mean, they are alien, that is to say they are not entirely human....but they have both a human father and a human mother....or surrogate mother. They are the results of several attempts at - oh, no, trying to explain is no use. Physically and emotionally they are entirely human. That is why we've rejected them: we have no use for them. Ms. Scully is the mother, but the father..." His eyebrows knotted and he seemed at a loss for words. Mulder waited on the ground with the unconcious Scully in his lap.

Benth continued: "There was no father. No male donor, I mean. The sperm with which the eggs were fertilized to conceive the fraternal twins was, well, man-made; synthetic, I believe, being an inappropriate word."

Mulder starred at him, not comprehending. Benth sighed and went on with the air of a nervous father commanded to explain the facts of life to a simpleton son. "We made up the chromosomes from human DNA. My orders were to use the genetic make-up of a certain man, but not to get it from him directly. The experiment was just as much to see if the children would live as it was to see if this round-about way of concocting sperm was possible. Honestly, I'd have much rather singled the guy out and given him a paper cup and a Penthouse." The goons chuckled. Benth rubbed his hand across his sweaty brow before continuing.

"So I had one option: we had one way of attaining the DNA we needed to make the sperm. Actually, it was kind of interesting. We used a woman's genes; a woman who trusted us and willing gave blood whenever she was asked to....we'd abducted her when she was young and cloned her several times. So we compared her genetic code to that of a male member of her family: a very close relative, and with our.....technology, shall I put it? did some trimming and filled in the blanks and, batta-bing-batta-boom: absolute replica of the genetic info the man would have pumped out in his semen, X or Y. Put that in an empty shell of a sperm, splash in some alien DNA, add it to an egg and there you have the miracle of life." Benth stopped triumphantly. He hated his bosses, but he loved his work.

Mulder looked annoyed. "I hope there is a point to this that you plan on reaching soon, becuase I already know about the birds and the bees."

Benth nodded his head in compliance. "The children are genetically perfect...well, as perfect as humanly possible. But they age normally, they are mortal, vunerable to wounds, in short, they could have been the same had they been carried by the mother and inseminated with the man's real sperm the old-fashioned way. They are of no use to us. The alien DNA in their blood has left no effect other than the fact that the pair have yet to get sick; they are intellectually superior to most children their age, but unfortunatly not in an alien way. The pair is, dispite all of our tests and even the odd occurance of their birth, perfectly normal."

Mulder shifted Scully to his other arm and looked up, squinting in the orange, waning sunlight. "But why tell me? Why knock out Scully? She is the mother, shouldn't she hear this?"

Benth rolled his eyes. A man so slow had worked for the FBI as a profiler? Speaks pretty damn highly for the government. "They also have special meaning for you, Mr. Mulder. The woman we used for the DNA was your sister, Samantha. Because of our alterations, genetically, these children are also yours."

Time stopped for Mulder. The weight of the womanin his arms reduced to nothing. He may have blacked out, he couldn't be sure, but he also didn't know when the goons left, when two of the black vans drove away, or when Dr. Benth lead two dark-haired five-year-olds by hand out of the remaining van and left them standing next to where Mulder sat clutching Scully. Benth reached down and pulled the little dart from her neck, then left. The last van drove away leaving the strange little family in the big parking lot. The shocked father sat on the ground, the unconscious mother in his arms, with two little dark-haired chidren standing quietly by: patients X34798 and X34799 waiting to be accepted, named, and loved.


Scully's Apartment
morning of August 2, 2000

Mulder had driven Scully and the children to her home in his car; she hadn't yet come to when he put her to bed that night. he called her road-side service provider and arranged to have her car towed, then he rumanged through cupboards and cracked open a can of spagghetti-O's for the kids.

The twins were not tired, nor were they afraid. He watched a movie with them, some cartoon feature he found half-wrapped next to a birthday card for one of Scully's brother's kids. He'd sat down, alone, in the middle of the couch with his feet up and his shoes off, and somehow before the movie was over there was a twin wrapped around his left side and his right.

He fell alseep before they did, and woke that morning with a little dark-haired head under each of his armpits. Two small arms and their two little hands clasped each other's across his stomach like a belt. He felt so happy and so sad by their presence; a dread clawed at him about the danger in their future: he wanted to claim and protect them, to call them his own, but he feared the kind of life the children of Fox Mulder would have. Children of Dana Scully would be safer, far safer, if they didn't even have a father. Certainly not a father like him.

The girl interuppted his thoughts. She moaned in her sleep and yawned--was that possible when one was not awake?--and stretched for a second before settleing more comfortably into his right side. The boy gave a few small kicks at his left while he dreamt. Mulder looked down at them and quietly counted: ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, one nose, one mouth, two ears. Ten fingers, ten twos, two eyes, one nose, one mouth, two ears: perfect. He could hear Scully getting up, waking after a long night's sleep. He smiled, so happy, and couldn't wait to say it, couldn't wait to tell her. She walked out of her room behind him, and startled when she saw his head above the couch back. The TV screen was blue, but she couldn't see the two sleeping bodies curled under his arms until she walked in front of the couch.

"Mulder, what are you -" she stopped. A new question formed. "Mulder, whose children are these?"

His smile turned to a grin, and the grin widened. In a heartbeat he answered, Ours, Scully. These beautiful perfect children are ours. But as his mouth pursed to form the words, he stopped. He exhaled. "Yours, Scully. These beautiful perfect children are yours."

The End

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