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Title: Guillain Barre Summary: Vaccinations have left a number of children with a rare illness. Investigations and some help bring Mulder & Scully revelations about the conspiracy. It runs a little higher than they thought. Creative Disclaimer: Give us this day our daily fanfic And if other people can write stories where Mulder and Scully have sex without precautions, then I can write a story where Scully handles blood without proper precautions. So there. 1. Mulder heard the office door open, and the familiar click of Scully's heels, but didn't look up from the expense reports until she tossed a magazine onto his desk. "This is US Medicine." "The swimsuit issue?" Scully cocked her head. "Someone left it under my door at 4 am this morning, marked at page 43." Mulder raised his eyes to meet hers, curiosity flickering, and then flipped to the marked page. It meant nothing to him. Scully leaned against the desk and tapped a column at the side of the page. It contained brief, random newsclips. "From Brabham, a couple of hours north of here, population fifteen hundred, ten twelve-year old children have been sent to the children's hospital in Harrisburg with severe cases of Guillain Barre Syndrome in the past month. Two died before they could be treated." "So it's going around?" "That's just the thing, Mulder. GBS doesn't 'go around'. It's not contagious. In fact, it's incredibly rare. Two cases in a town that size are an anomaly. Twelve is..." "An X-File?" Mulder offered. "So what does cause it?" Scully tucked a stray hair behind her ear and then leaned back, arms folded. Her own curiosity was already piqued. "We don't know. Basically, it's an overreaction of the immune system to an illness, operation or immunisation. The body's natural antibodies go haywire, attacking the myelin - the covering of the nerves, and in more severe cases, the core of the nerves. That causes weakness and poor sensation. Paralysis can affect the whole body, including the lungs and heart." She switched out of teaching mode and paused for dramatic effect. "All these cases appear to have been brought on by MMR vaccinations; specifically the rubella vaccine." Mulder was now leaning forward. He raised his eyebrows. "Vaccinations?" Scully nodded. "I did some ringing around. The CDC have already investigated the children. They passed it off as coincidence." Mulder stood up, reaching for his jacket. "So, Scully, know any cheap motels in Brabham, Pennsylvania?" Mulder and Scully waited by the nurses station for someone to break free of the mayhem to help them. Doctors, distinguishable from the visitors only by the stethoscopes around their necks, wandered from room to room, getting in the way of the purposeful bustling of the nurses. Tired visitors leaned against walls or slumped in chairs outside rooms while their patient was attended to, occasionally sharing pleasantries with all-too-familiar staff. Scully finally stepped into the path of a young nurse pushing a medicine cart. "Excuse me, could you please tell me where I can find Dr Fuller?" "Agents Mulder and Scully?" broke in a deep voice from behind. The nurse took a quick glance at the source of the voice. "I guess he's found you." She headed off again. Dr Fuller stepped forward shook their hands warmly, peering at them through owl-like glasses. "Agents Scully, Mulder. I'm glad to have all the help we can get. Really, this whole thing has us stumped." He gestured to indicate that they should accompany him up the hall, launching into his report with barely a space for breath. "It's quite a fascinating case, really. Most GBS cases in this part of the state are referred here. I consult for GBS in both the adults' and children's hospitals, but I still usually only see around seven or eight a year. We're hoping that if we can isolate what's causing the cluster at Brabham, it could go a long way to finding the cause of GBS." Mulder hurried to keep up with the doctor's cracking pace. "Do you have any leads?" "Not yet. We've run full toxicolgicals on all the children, but haven't found anything unusual for a GBS patient. Lumbar punctures revealed the expected high protein levels, and nerve conduction tests show poor conduction. We're concentrating on their school, now - water supplies, ventilation, that sort of thing. Nothing yet." "Have you checked the vaccines?" Dr Fuller crinkled his brow at Mulder, a little offended. "Yes, of course. It was the first thing we checked." "They could have been switched in the meantime." "Switched? Why?" Scully broke in before Mulder could scare the doctor off with wild alien theories. "An attempt to avoid a malpractice suit?" "No, we're certain. It's only a small town, so most of the vaccinations were done in one afternoon at the school by the town doctor, but a couple of the children went to other private GPs. It would take a conspiracy to clear up that much evidence." The agents' eyes met, briefly, but the doctor continued without noticing their silent communication. "Besides, two of the children vaccinated are showing no signs of Guillain Barre." Scully considered for a moment. "Have you taken tissue samples to check the vaccinations?" He ran a hand through his greying blond curls. "Yes, we even tried that. No dice. You really think that someone would do such a thing to innocent children?" "I... We just have to check all avenues." Dr Fuller's brow creased slightly as he regarded Scully. "I guess we do." He stopped and lowered his voice as they reached a door. He checked inside, and then beckoned the two agents to follow him in. 2. In the dim room was a single bed, surrounded by machines. Behind the bed was a heart monitor, its glowing green screen showing a slow, steady beat. The only noise in the room came from a machine which sucked air in shuddering, hissing breaths. The last thing Mulder noticed was a lump in the bed, too small for a twelve-year-old child, overwhelmed by tubes and wires. As they approached the bed, he could just discern the slight rise and fall of the girl's chest. "This is Caroline. Caroline's sister, Lisa, was the first child affected. Just over a week after the vaccinations, Lisa went to bed early thinking she had the flu. Her nerves deteriorated in the night, so fast she never had a chance. By the time Caroline came to wake her up in the morning, she was already cold. Caroline began to display symptoms a few days later. She's been on the respirator for a week now." Mulder's voice was a whisper. "How long will she be here?" Dr Fuller lowered his gaze to the figure in the bed. "We have no way of knowing... It could be months, or even years. Since we don't know what causes Guillain Barre Syndrome we're limited in how we can help. Basically we just have to offer what little help we can and wait for their bodies to heal of their own accord. The respirator is breathing for her because her lungs aren't strong enough to supply her with the oxygen she needs. We are monitoring her heart, because that is weakened also. She has responded to treatment and the Guillain Barre Syndrome is holding steady. But the tracheostomy has left Caroline open to all sorts of pulmonary infections. There are no signs of pneumonia yet, thank goodness - I'm not sure we could handle that on top of everything else." Dr Fuller glanced at Mulder, directing his explanation to the layman. "When the patient doesn't have the strength to swallow, they can't keep liquids from their lungs. Pneumonia is always a danger." Mulder nodded. "When she does begin to recover, there is no telling how long recovery may take. She will have to learn to walk again, how to feed herself... She may never fully recover her strength, or her sensation. Some GBS patients spend the rest of their lives experiencing phantom pains. We just have to wait and see." Scully moved to the foot of the bed. "That's a pretty bleak prognosis. Guillain Barre patients can usually expect an excellent recovery." "There's nothing usual about these cases, Dr Scully." snapped Fuller. He stopped, realizing that Scully hadn't intended to second-guess him, but when he continued the growl remained. "Generally, around twenty percent of patients deteriorate so far that have to be put on respirators. Deaths are incredibly rare. We have three children on respirators and two deaths, out of ten children. By my definition, Dr Scully, that's bleak." Scully nodded, understanding. She felt for the doctor as much as she did for Caroline. Professional detachment was a phrase to be bandied around in med school. No one could 'detach' themselves from a girl imprisoned in her own body. And certainly not when they were the person charged with saving her. All three fell into silence, lost in their own thoughts until the quiet was broken by a buzzing. Mulder looked apprehensively to the machines by the bed, but Dr Fuller reached for his beeper. "I've got to go - I'm wanted in another ward. I'll just introduce you to Meg Hill first, in ICU. She's a bright girl, she'll keep you entertained. I'll get back to you when I can, there's more to discuss." 3. They made their way down the narrow walkway of the Intensive Care Unit. The hushed tones of the visitors' and staff's voices emphasised the harsh beeping of the machines. There was a seemingly endless row of children, each with their own set of machines. Some slept, and some talked softly with their families. A few cried, or, even more painfully, tried not to. All the visitors shared the same lines of worry. Most milled around the beds, afraid to get too close, unsure of how to comfort through the miles of wires and pipes, still trying to understand why they were here and why the child lying in front of them seemed so unfamiliar. They stopped at the feet of a young girl. She lay back on the bed, smiling slightly at the woman beside her who was running her hand over the girl's soft brown hair. The pair turned their matching weary brown eyes toward their visitors. Dr Fuller stepped forward. "Hey Meg. How are you doing?" The girl's smile widened. "Hungry." The doctor nodded in sympathy, and her mother smiled through her worry. "When can I eat?" "When that swallow of yours is a little stronger. We don't want you to choke." "This tube up my nose has got to go. I need to chew. I need... Chinese... or... a chicken schnitzel," she sighed. "I'd kill for a chicken schnitzel right now. A really, really greasy chicken schnitzel, drowned in salt, like they have at that little shop up the road from school. So greasy that the grease oozes through the paper..." The doctor threw up his hands in mock-horror. "If you keep talking like that, Meg, I'm going to leave your naso-gastric tube in permanently. What you really want is a nice lean steak and fresh vegetables. Beans. Broccoli. Brussels sprouts." Mulder smiled. The look that the girl was giving her doctor was a mirror of the one Scully would give him when he came up with a particularly wild theory. Remembering his purpose, Dr Fuller stepped back to include Mulder and Scully, and Meg's mother. "I have to go, I've been summoned, but first I'd like you to meet Dr Scully and Mr Mulder. They're agents for the FBI." Meg's mother's eye's widened. "I - I don't understand. What's going on?" Scully stepped forward. "There's nothing to worry about, Mrs Hill. My partner and I specialise in difficult and... unexplained occurrences. We're just trying to work out why Brabham has had so many cases of Guillain Barre Syndrome." Mrs Hill nodded, but concern was still written in the creases of her forehead. Dr Fuller excused himself and headed back the way they had come. The people around the bed watched him weave his way back up the aisle. Meg took advantage of the pause to break into the conversation. "You're from the FBI? Cool. I want to join the FBI. I'm a big Clarice Starling fan. Can I see your badge?" Mulder grinned. "Of course." He reached into his jacket, and offered his badge to her. She lifted her arm a couple of inches from the bed. "You'll have to bring it closer, I can't reach any further." Mulder's grin flickered, but held. He stepped forward and placed the badge in the girl's hand, which sank back to the bed under the weight. He took it back and held it in front of her face. She peered at it eagerly. "I've never seen an FBI badge up close. That's a pretty good photo. I thought that it was law for all ID photos to make you look like you had a bad hangover. How come the FBI gets nice pictures?" Scully smiled. "You haven't seen mine." They were interrupted by a nurse offering a breathing mask. "Sorry Meg, time to check your lungs. Think you can break the record?" "Definitely!" Meg looked at Mulder. "I gotta blow in the spig... spigometer to find how strong my lungs are. We're aiming for 1.1 litres." She took a long breath and then blew it out into the mask that the nurse held over her face. The nurse checked the readout. "1.0. We're getting there, sweetie. Try again." She looked up at the two strangers. "She's the only person in the whole place who can pronounce the name of the thing. That's 1.0 again. Once more." Meg drew a huge breath and tried again. "1.05. We'll get it next go." Meg only nodded, unable to speak as she tried to get her normal breathing back after the exertion. As the nurse turned to leave, Meg lifted a hand slightly to stop her and crinkled her nose in discomfort "Could you check my feet, Sally? They feel all twisted, it really hurts." Sally pulled the blankets out from the bed, and peeked at Meg's feet. She looked up apologetically. "Sorry, kiddo, they're straight, it's just your nerves playing tricks on you. Is it really painful?" Meg nodded, a pleading look on her face. The nurse checked the clock. "I'm sorry honey, it's only been a couple of hours since your last pain killer - I can't offer you anything yet." "That's okay. I can wait." Meg smiled reassuringly, but her bottom lip trembled. "I could rub them, that's supposed to help-" "No don't touch them." Meg gritted her teeth at the thought. "When someone touches them, it's like burning needles." The nurse shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Are you warm enough? I could leave your covers pulled up over your feet, and that way you can see for yourself that everything's okay." Meg smiled again, more genuinely this time. The nurse folded the covers back to reveal two small feet with toenails that bore the remainder of an old coat of garishly pink nail polish. With a quirky grin and a wink, she left. Scully turned her attention back to Meg's mom. "Mrs Hill, did Meg have to visit the doctor very often as a child? For vitamin shots or extra vaccinations?" Mrs Hill shook her head. "No. She only ever had the normal vaccinations as a baby and tetanus shots as she grew up. I don't understand it. Meg's always been so healthy. She's never had to take a single day off school sick." "Never?" "She's never even had a cold." Scully stared at the delicate figure in the bed. "What about measles? Chicken Pox? Mumps? Tonsillitis? They go around every school." Meg interrupted. "Not mine." "Nobody got sick?" "Except Greg. He had German measles in the third grade." "He had rubella?" "He got really sick. He never came back 'cause he missed so much." Scully met Mulder's glance, and then turned back to Meg. "Do you know Greg's last name?" Meg's brow furrowed in exaggerated thought. "I can't remember. Something like... Peters? Porter? It was something like that, but I don't think either of them is right. He moved away a couple of years ago, to California. I'm sorry." Mulder grinned again. "Don't worry, we can find it. You've been a huge help." Meg blushed furiously. "Thanks. Um..." She paused, suddenly shy, but was encouraged by Mulder's raised eyebrows. "Would you visit me again? It's kind of lonely in here." "Of course." He hesitated, and then reached for a scrap of paper on a nearby table and pulled a pen from his pocket. He leaned on the bed to scrawl something, then presented the paper to Meg. "Here's my cell phone number - if you think of anything, give me a call, okay?" Meg's face lit up, and her mother gave her first genuine smile since they had arrived. "Thank you very much, Mr Mulder." Mulder and Scully said their goodbyes and left. Scully leaned her head close as they passed through the door of the ward. "You've certainly found a fan." "Don't you know, Scully? I've always had a thing for younger women." 4. They were heading down the corridor, hoping to find a cafeteria where they could discuss what they'd learned when they were hailed from behind. "Dana Scully you haven't changed a bit!" They turned to the source of the voice. Mulder watched as a tall stranger threw her arms around his partner, taking her by complete surprise. The woman's face was obscured by Scully, and by her own mass of brown curls, but he could see she had a deep tan, proudly displayed by a light Summer dress. The dress also displayed legs which seemed to account for most of her height. Mulder cocked his head questioningly at his partner, but she could only offer a puzzled frown in return. The stranger drew back suddenly. "Please tell me I have the right person..." Scully nodded, but before she could say anything the woman's deep brown eyes settled on Mulder. "And I must say, Dana, you're doing very well for yourself." A playful smile curled her lips, revealing teeth that Mulder had not known to exist outside toothpaste commercials. Scully blushed slightly. "This is my partner, Fox Mulder." That smile again. "I'm very pleased to meet you Fox." She extended her hand to him. "I'll introduce myself, because I don't think Dana's quite remembered who I am. My name is Sapphire. I spent a few years growing up on the base with the Scully troops." Scully's jaw dropped. "Saff? I would never have recognized you! You've grown up!" Saff laughed. "It does happen. Except to you, I see. Still the shorty. Actually, I have the advantage. I heard the rumor that there was an Agent Dana Scully wandering around here somewhere, so I've been keeping an eye out. All it took to find you was the red hair." "What are you doing here?" "I'm in the hospital administration. Charlie told me you'd joined the FBI. It suits you down to the ground." "I didn't know Charlie was still in contact with you." "We've been writing since you moved away." Scully raised an eyebrow. "Charlie? Writing regularly for that many years? You've got to be kidding." "Actually, no. He owes me a letter or two. We lost contact a few years ago." "That's more like the Charlie I know." Mulder watched the exchange with mild amusement, and a little surprise. His Scully rarely strayed from her professional demeanor. There were moments when they were close, sometimes even intimate, but he'd never seen this side of her. She was acting like a schoolkid. And Saff was something else. Saff looked at Mulder. "I'm sorry, we're neglecting you. Tell you what, I've got an early lunch break. Have you eaten? There's a really nice cafe just down the street." She raised her eyebrows. "They do a great cappuccino..." "Well you've won me." "Me too. We've got some catching up to do." They settled into a booth at the back of the cafe, where they quickly gave their orders so that they could move on to more important matters. "So tell me everything!" Scully shook her head. "You seem to know more about what I've been doing than I do about you. How long have you been working here?" "Not long - I only moved here a week ago. I wanted to work in DC, but this was as close as I could get." "So you're in health administration? You know, I always figured you'd go into the navy - follow your father." The sparkle left Saff's eyes for a moment. "He was killed in training three years after you left. That ended my naval aspirations." A shadow crossed Scully's face. She concentrated on refolding the napkin for a moment. "I'm sorry." "It was a long time ago. I heard about your Dad. I'm sorry too." Scully nodded without lifting her gaze. The table drifted into quiet for a moment, the two women's sorrow blending. Mulder felt like an intruder. Saff was the first to break the reverie with her soft voice. "It's been so long. We should expect that things will change. There has to be good things too. What about everyone else? How is your mother? Bill and Missy?" Scully lifted her head. "You didn't hear?" "This is more bad news, isn't it?" Scully's attention returned to the tablecloth. "Missy died a little over a year after Dad." Saff's hand reached across the table to rest on Scully's. "I'm so sorry." She stared off into nothing for a while. "When you're a kid you never imagine clouds in the future. We always envisioned such big things. I was going to be the head of the navy. You... you were going to be something different every week. But it was always something important." One corner of her mouth turned up. "It was always something tomboyish." Scully couldn't help her mouth from twitching too. Mulder began to relax. It was time to steer the conversation onto safer ground. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "So tell me... just what *was* Scully like as a girl?" Saff darted a glance at Scully's mock-warning face, and suppressed a laugh. "Dana was a classic Scully boy and a princess, all at once." She broke into a chuckle over a newfound memory, and looked back at Scully. "Remember the New Year's Eve Dance?" Scully flushed red, and concealed a smile. "Benny Miller made a crack about how shocked he was to see her in a dress, how he had been expecting her to turn up in a pair of pants. She poured a whole cup of grape juice on him, and kicked him in the shins. He was limping for days." "He was the sixth guy to comment. It was driving me crazy!" Scully pretended to ignore Mulder's stifled chuckle. "Besides - I didn't hear another comment all night." When he began to regain his composure, Saff leaned toward Mulder in the same conspiratorial way he had done earlier. "So tell me... what is she like these days?" Mulder grinned. "She hasn't changed a bit - but now she's armed." 5. As they drained the last of their coffee, Scully stretched and stood. "This has been great, but I've got to head back to the hospital. I want to pick up some blood samples of my own to test." Mulder nodded regretfully. "I'll come with you. I'd like to talk more with Dr Fuller. I'll drive you up to the labs, and then I want to head to Brabham, talk to the local doctor, take a look around." Saff frowned. "The hospital labs are over half an hour away, and Brabham is in the opposite direction. If you drop Dana off you'll hit rush hour traffic and you won't reach Brabham until late, and then Dana won't have a car. I finish early today. How about Dana takes the car, and I'll drive you?" "I couldn't possibly - " "Oh come on. This way I can get the dirt on Dana that you can't tell me in front of her." "Well now that you put it that way..." Scully shot her best Look at her partner, but he returned a wicked smile. It didn't take long for Saff to convince them - particularly Mulder - and so they divied up the bill and Mulder led them out into the warm afternoon, back to the hospital. When they reached main foyer, Saff pointed to a small coffee shop. "I finish in two hours. When you're ready, you'll find me in there." With a nod and a wave, she disappeared into the maze of corridors. Scully tipped her head toward Mulder. "Looks like you've found yourself another fan. At least this one's your age." "Would it bother you?" Scully regarded him with surprise, examining him carefully for a hint of sarcasm. She found none, but to her amusement, he was turning red. To his amusement, so was she. They headed towards the reception desk to find Dr Fuller, and were directed towards neurology. They were despairing of ever finding the right ward when they bumped into him in the hall. "I've been looking for you." Scully folded her arms across her chest. "Dr Fuller, are you aware that none of the children in this grade have any history of illness?" "Yes - well, almost. I was just getting to that when I was called away. There were exceptions." "Exceptions, plural?" Dr Fuller nodded, and indicated that they should follow him back the way he had come. "Remember I mentioned that two of the children vaccinated are showing no signs of Guillain Barre? Those two have experienced the usual childhood illnesses. Coincidentally, neither of those children were born in Brabham." Mulder always found it fascinating to watch Scully's mental cogs turning. She spoke slowly, her thoughts still developing. "Okay. The MMR vaccinations must have sparked the Guillain Barre, but they weren't the real cause. There was some preexisting factor which made these children susceptible to GBS through Rubella. Some factor which existed before the healthy children moved to Brabham. "I need a copy of every child's and their mother's complete medical histories, from every doctor they've ever had contact with, incorporating full vaccination records." Dr Fuller nodded vigorously. "We're in the process of compiling their complete histories now. The mothers' may take a little longer, we hadn't looked into the parents." "I'm most interested in the pregnancies - I want obstetric records to be top priority. I'd also like to take some blood samples to test myself." "No problem. I'll get the nurses to do another round." "I'd rather do it myself, if it's all the same to you. Just to be sure there's no... accidental mix-ups." Dr Fuller looked a little surprised, but agreed. "I guess that it's your option. You will have to seek special permission from the parents if you are going to conduct the tests independently, though. In which case, it's up to you. I'll send for the equipment you'll need, and then we can meet the rest of the patients so that you can get your samples." The doctor sent a passing nurse on his errand, and guided the agents toward the stairs. Mulder suddenly remembered. "What about Greg Porter?" Dr Fuller's face went blank. "Who?" "Meg mentioned a boy, Greg, who got very sick in the third grade. From German measles." Dr Fuller's eyebrows rose. "She wasn't sure of his name, but she said it was something like Peters, or Porter." Dr Fuller stopped in his tracks. His hand, which had been reaching out to push the door of the neurology ward open, moved to his chin, rubbing thoughtfully. "Could it be Potter?" Mulder and Scully shrugged, unknowing. "I never made the connection, I'd forgotten where Greg came from. It would certainly fit. There was a Greg Potter here, around that age, four years ago. It wasn't the rubella that really made him ill, though I'm pretty sure he hadn't been immunised. It was the Guillain Barre which stemmed from it." The agents stared. "I guess we can rule out the vaccines, then." Dr Fuller wiped his hand across his brow. "I can't believe I missed the link. I certainly hadn't forgotten the case. Greg had a case as severe as any that we are seeing now. He was on a respirator for two years. As soon as he was ready to move into rehabilitation his parents moved him to California - they had relatives there, or something. I spoke to his doctor at rehab about six months after he left. Apparently he was showing no signs of regaining full strength. The doctor even despaired that he would ever walk." Mulder took a deep breath. "Do you still have a contact number for Greg's family?" The doctor's shoulders slumped and he shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head slowly. "Shortly after he was released from the rehabilitation hospital he and his parents were killed in a fire. Their house burned to the ground." Unbidden, a cruel thought began to tap in Scully's subconscious. "Dr Fuller?" She hesitated, not wanting to make the thought real. "How did the fire start?" "They don't know. They never found a cause." The thought infected like a malevolent virus, and a shadow fell over the party, settling in the pits of their stomachs. Dr Fuller watched Mulder and Scully, wide-eyed. "You really do believe this is some sort of cover-up." The echoes of Dr Fuller's baritone faded away, leaving only the ticking of their watches to answer. 6. The neurology ward was far brighter than the rooms they had visited earlier, as though the building itself was feeling more hopeful. Brightly colored medical posters littered the corridor walls and in the rooms themselves there was allowance for more personal touches. The walls behind most patients' beds held shelves of cards and flowers, and the tables held writing pads, books, and other personal items not allowed in Intensive Care. Most importantly, the curtains and some of the windows were open in these rooms, drawing in the light. The room Dr Fuller led them into was one of the brightest. It held four beds, three of which were currently occupied. He greeted them, and was met with a warm chorus of response. He turned to Scully and Mulder and gestured around the room like a game show host indicating a prize. "Welcome to our very own Guillain Barre ward. Seeing as they're all school friends, and they're all in the same boat, we decided to put them all together. Guys and girls, these are Agents Scully and Mulder. They're investigating your GBS cases. Dr Scully would like to take some blood." He grinned at the chorus of groans. One girl mock-growled at Scully. "Boy, you sure know how to make friends, don't you?" Dr Fuller chuckled. "Welcome to the hit list, Dr Scully. This bunch aren't very forgiving." "I think we are, Dr Fuller," piped up the same girl, "We forgave the CT scan and the lumbar puncture. We forgave you for sticking great big tubes in our shoulders and draining our blood. Repeatedly. We've even been quite forgiving about your obsession with testing our Planter's reflex. When you stuck this whopping great tube up my nose and down my throat, it really pushed my limits. But no, I thought. He's trying to help. I think it's only the electrocution that really bothers me. Do it in a hospital and it's an EMG. Do it anywhere else and Amnesty will start a letter-writing campaign." Dr Fuller was about to reply when he noticed the empty beds. "Where's Joe?" A blond boy in the next bed answered. One side of his face was blank, like a stroke victim, and he slurred his words. "Gone to urology for Plasma Exchange." "But that was supposed to be finished. We were going to take the catheter out of his shoulder today." The blond shrugged. "Well the orderly just took him. If you chase them, you can probably catch him." The doctor turned to apologize to Scully for leaving her again, but she just waved him off and leaned closer to Mulder, who was looking confused. "Catheters aren't just for draining *that*, Mulder. These kids are being treated with plasmapheresis. They are put on a machine which takes their blood out through a catheter into their sub-clavicle artery, exchanges the plasma, and then pumps it back in. It works a little like dialysis." "And the electrocution?" "It's a precise way of finding out how well the nerves are conducting electrical signals." "It's a painful way of finding out how well the nerves are conducting electrical signals." interrupted the girl who had complained earlier. "Since our nerves aren't conducting well, they turn the voltage up. And I can't feel normal touch, but I can feel pain. What did they call it?" She directed the question at the blond boy. "Hypersensitivity?" Scully gave a short, half-sympathetic nod to the girl, and turned to address the adults beside the beds. "I'm going to be doing my tests independently, so I'll need special permission from you to take the blood." She received nods from all of them. At that moment the nurse arrived with a cart full of needles and vials, and a pile of permission forms. Scully distributed the forms to the parents and then began to sort the equipment into her preferred order. Mulder wandered over to a girl who had been quiet during the proceedings. She had been awkwardly scrawling large, uneven words in what looked like a diary, but often looking up, clearly interested in what was going on. She shut the diary and capped the pen as Mulder approached, offering a shy smile. "Could you please pass me a tissue? I'm Sophie, by the way. My parents won't be in until later. They won't mind, though." Mulder had to strain to hear her voice, which, like the boy's, was slurred as though she had been to the dentist. He pulled a tissue from the box which sat in arm's reach of the bed. Normal arm's reach. "We'll wait for permission anyway. What happened?" he asked, indicating a yellowish-gray lump over her strangely wide right eye. "I fell." She rolled her eyes, and ineffectually dabbed at her nose, which was just within her reach, as she explained. "The second time I sat up in a chair, I was left alone for a moment. I wasn't totally comfortable, so I leaned forward a little. I didn't realise I need muscles to *stop* leaning forward. I just kept going and going. You never realise how far away the ground is until you start to fall toward it head first and you can't lift your hands from your lap to break the fall." Mulder smiled. "Ow. Did you get your eye too?" The girl stared, puzzled for a moment, before realizing what he meant. "Oh, no, my eye's different. The GBS has given me this lovely winky eye and lopsided mouth. I can't wait 'til it's better, it's hard to brush my teeth without drooling." "Eating must be hard, too." Sophie rolled her eyes. "At least I can feed myself now. I couldn't lift my hand to my mouth before, so I was spoon-fed by mom, like a baby. It was so humiliating." Mulder grinned. "So you're getting better?" "I rolled over in bed all by myself last night." Sophie sat up, genuinely proud. "I won't have to call nurses every time I get uncomfortable at night, now. I hated that. I was so excited I couldn't get back to sleep. You're not a doctor, are you?" "No, I'm the nice partner. I won't stick needles in you." They turned to look at Scully, who was by now heading for the loud girl, needle in hand. The girl was eying her warily. "I didn't know the FBI had neurologists." Scully took the girl's arm in her hand. "Actually, I'm a pathologist." A large, bearded man beside the bed laughed, a deep, belly laugh. "Christ, the situation's not that grim, is it?" "Roger! Watch your language!" The woman who had spoken gave him a light slap on the arm. "You will have to excuse my husband. We're all very tired." "I understand perfectly, Mrs. .. Simpson." replied Scully, quickly checking the name plate above the bed. "Your daughter seems to be doing well, though." Mrs Simpson nodded gravely. "Yes. I've seen some of the others. We're very lucky." "We'll have her out, mowing the lawn in no time." promised her father, eyes twinkling. "Like hell you will." "Elizabeth!" Elizabeth ignored her mother. "I'm gonna milk this for all it's worth. I'm not doing any chores for a couple of years, at least." Scully finished up, and moved toward the blond boy in the bed opposite. He had shuffled to the far side, up against the bed rails, and was shaking his head as vigorously as he could. "Sorry, I don't have any left. I'm running on empty." Scully snapped on a new set of gloves. "Come on. You're getting how many needles a day? What's one more?" "It's one more." He screwed up his eyes and turned his face away as Scully gave his skin a quick wipe with alcohol. When she had her sample he opened one cautious eye. "Hey. That wasn't too bad. Do you practice a lot or something?" Mulder's voice floated across the room. "Don't even say it, Scully." 7. After they had finished their rounds, managing to acquire the permission of all the parents there, a total of eight samples, Scully left for the lab, and Mulder headed down to find Saff in the foyer. As he approached, she swallowed the last of her coffee and grabbed the remaining half of a large chocolate donut off her plate with a grin. She waved goodbye to someone behind the counter before hurrying out to meet Mulder. Mulder eyed the donut. "I thought there was some kind of women's law against eating anything that looks that good." Saff raised the donut to him, offering a bite, but he held up a hand in refusal. She shrugged and took another bite. "Life's too short to diet." She covered her mouth as she finished her mouthful. "Come on. My car's out this way." The car flew along the highway, never dropping below the speed limit, but never quite edging over it. Mulder kept a wary eye on the speedometer. "Don't worry, I don't speed. Not when ferrying around law enforcement officers." Mulder grinned sheepishly. "Do you often play chauffeur to agents for the Bureau?" "Only the good-looking ones." She managed to say it without blushing. Mulder was impressed. "You and Scully don't strike me as a pair. Except maybe the Odd Couple." Saff was silent for a moment while she concentrated on changing lanes. "We weren't that close, I was more a friend of Charlie's, but on a base where there aren't that many kids, you tend to mix a bit, and ignore age differences. Sometimes, anyway." She smiled at some distant memory. "When you move around that often you learn to just make friends with everybody. At least, that's what I did. I guess everyone finds their own way to cope." Mulder watched her profile. The smile was still there, but her eyes had gained a sad quality that Mulder couldn't quite put his finger on. She unconsciously pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and glanced at Mulder as she became aware of his gaze. He turned away, suddenly shy. He was grateful to see the turnoff looming ahead. Scully's concentration was broken by knocking. She looked up from the microscope to see Mulder standing in the doorway, offering a carton of Chinese and a steaming cup of coffee. "Got time for a break?" "Mulder, I could kiss you." He raised his eyebrows and puckered up. Scully paused only long enough to peel off her gloves and grab a vial of blood at random before heading for the door. She ignored his fish lips and took the coffee, then plonked into a chair just outside the lab door. He looked around as he pulled up a seat to sit beside her. "Where is everybody?" "Mulder it's almost seven! Some people have lives, you know." He offered her his most innocent look. "Yes, but they're not nearly as exciting as ours." "So did you make any headway?" "We're having dinner at Saff's place tomorrow night." Scully didn't even look up. "Seriously. What did you get?" "A date." He smiled mischievously. "Seven o'clock, sharp." Scully rolled her eyes. He wasn't just incorrigible - he was serious. "I meant with the case." Mulder concentrated on setting up his own carton before answering. "I tried to track down the town doctor, but I don't think you'll be getting much out of him. He died a few weeks before the vaccinations." "Suspicious?" "No. A long-overdue heart attack. But it seems that he treated all the children from their conception up until his death." "Do you think there's a connection?" Mulder shrugged. "I guess we'll have a better idea when we get the kids' medical histories. But that wasn't the most interesting thing I found." He leaned back and crossed his arms, a smug turn on his lips. "They're quite an exceptional bunch of kids. Apparently the whole grade was two years ahead in their school work." "Two years?" "Minimum. And they all excelled in sports. Most of them were competing at state level for more than one competition. Very interesting, don't you think?" "Very." Scully conceded. "But not near as impressive as what I've discovered." Mulder leaned forward in mock-challenge. "Impress me." "I have nothing conclusive yet." She paused. "But I have found anomalies." "Anomalies?" "I can't be sure. I have more tests to run." She dangled a vial of blood in front of Mulder's eyes. "But this blood and every other sample contains components which are organic but unidentifiable." Mulder took the vial Scully was displaying and stared at it, spellbound. "This is alien blood?" "I didn't say that, Mulder. It's definitely human blood. But there seems to be other... elements present. I'm just guessing, but I think these extra elements have enhanced their immune systems, which would explain the lack of illness up to now. It seems that in the case of rubella infections it worked a little too well, sparking the Guillain Barre." Mulder looked blank. "In English, Scully." Scully took a deep breath as she sifted through her thoughts. "GBS is basically a case of your immune system working *too* well - your body overreacts to an infection, producing too many antibodies, so the extra antibodies attack your nerves." She hesitated, to ensure Mulder was still with her. He nodded to show that he was. "In this case the children's immune systems were strengthened by the extra elements present. That's why they had never been ill. But for some reason when these elements are present, the immune system overreacts to rubella infections." Mulder stared from Scully to the vial and back again. "Guillain Barre is caused by alien DNA?" Scully knew there was no point quibbling over terms. "Not always. But in this case - these elements are the connection." They lapsed into silence for a moment, each in their own world as they tried to grasp the possibilities. "That's why Greg Potter hadn't been immunised!" Scully jerked out of her reverie, surprised by Mulder's outburst. He struggled to explain. "Dr Fuller told us that Greg hadn't been immunised against rubella. What if the town doctor was involved? This could be the Delta Glen case all over again. There doesn't seem to be any Red Museum-type control group, but maybe they didn't need one this time. Maybe they know that test children can't be exposed to rubella. The doctor would have skipped the rubella vaccine. Since he died, someone else gave the vaccinations - somebody who didn't know the danger." Scully's eyes were wide. It all made sense. Suddenly Mulder grabbed his partner's arm. "Do you know what this means, Scully? They've found the right balance of human and alien DNA. They've begun their race of superbeings." They stared at each other for a moment, and then as one, headed back to the lab. Everything was gone. The racks which had held rows of vials were empty, piles of paper which had contained columns of calculations and important notes ready to be typed up had vanished like they were never there. The door of Scully's voice recorder was still open, the tape removed. All of the slides had disappeared, including the one on the stage of the microscope. Even Scully's stained gloves had been taken. The lab had been cleared of evidence like an alien crash site. Instinctively, Mulder pulled the last vial close to his chest. "My god, Mulder," Scully breathed. "They did all of this while we were in the next room." Mulder's grip on the vial tightened. 8. Scully crossed the crisp hospital lawn five steps ahead of Mulder. These kids were going to just love being asked for another sample. And the parents... "Sorry Mr & Mrs Parent, but men involved in an international conspiracy stole your child's blood sample. Can I have another one?" This was going to be a bad day. But she had no idea how bad. As they reached the entrance a man in a security uniform stepped out from behind a column, using his large bulk to bar their way. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to enter." Mulder stepped back in surprise. "There's been some kind of mistake. We're FBI..." "Agents Scully and Mulder?" They nodded. "No mistake. You are not welcome on these premises." Scully stepped forward. "Sir, you are impeding an investigation." Her voice was clipped, carrying an authority that would not accept argument, but he wouldn't budge. Mulder tried again. "Sir, could you please at least call to confirm your orders?" The man hesitated, but realizing it could do no harm, pulled out his two-way. After a quick conversation, he slipped the radio back into his belt. He addressed himself to Scully. "I'm authorised to accompany you to the Director's office. Follow me." Mulder shot Scully a dubious look. This wasn't a mere clerical error. Scully didn't return his gaze. Her mouth was set in a grim line, and Mulder could see the tension in her jaw. They were standing behind the security guard's enormous bulk in the elevator, the only sound the soft hum of the engines, when Mulder shifted over to Scully. "Is it my imagination, or have I seen this guy in an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie lately?" He was glad to see the corner of her mouth twitch. As they headed down the corridor, Scully almost jogging to keep up with the guard's pace, Mulder tried again, leaning close and whispering a little too loudly in her ear. "I think he ripped off someone's head and spat down their neck." He noted with satisfaction that her warning look was tempered by the grin that threatened to break forth, and her shoulders had eased slightly. He was about to try again when suddenly the man stopped and turned to face them, blocking the corridor like a wall. They took it as a sign that they were meant to go through the door. A secretary ushered them into a lavish office. The silence as they crossed the carpeted floor, and the stern gaze of the small man in the severe suit in the big leather chair across the desk reminded Scully of being in trouble in the school principal's office. The man indicated that they should sit. He didn't offer his hand. He didn't speak, didn't stand, just sat and regarded them, fingers playing at his lip. Scully knew this tactic - it was exactly like being in the principal's office. She wasn't willing to play. "Sir, could you please tell us why you are impeding a police investigation? We will obtain warrants if we must." "I was under the impression that you were here in an unofficial capacity. I do not believe that you actually have jurisdiction." Both agents were silent. "I thought so." Satisfied that he had established his power, he leaned back in the chair, arms folded. "However, we were glad to accept your help. I am as eager as anyone to know what has happened to these children. As I understand you are eager. That does not excuse your behavior." "I'm sorry sir?" The director ignored Scully's interruption, except to slowly raise his eyebrows as though she should know perfectly well what he was talking about. "I have reports from the parents of eight children, saying you took blood from their children without permission." Scully was struggling to stay seated. "What are you talking about? We had permission for every sample we took!" Mulder interrupted. "All the parents signed forms before we took blood. Your hospital has copies of those forms." "I have no such forms. But if you could show me your originals, we could sort this whole matter out now." Mulder looked questioningly at Scully, but she wouldn't move her glare from the Director. When she spoke her voice was even, barely controlled. "Our copies of the forms were stolen last night. I don't suppose you could offer us an explanation, sir?" "I must say that is all very convenient for you. But I do not appreciate the implication, *Miss* Scully." The use of 'Miss' stung Scully. She heard the threat behind it, and knew this man had the power to take her credibility away. Knew he knew what a powerful weapon that was. She tried to push back the panic that was rising from the pit of her stomach. "But all the parents were present when..." The director held up his hand, silencing her. "I am sure I do not need to inform you of the gravity of the situation. You could be stripped of your medical licence. I have no doubt you could both be thrown out of the FBI." Scully had gone white, though whether it was with shock or anger, Mulder was unsure. He guessed it was a little of both. Satisfied that the agents were properly scared, the Director eased off. "Don't worry. I have no intentions of making an official complaint. I see that you, like the rest of us, were trying to help. Therefore I am letting you off with a warning, and a request that you do not return to this hospital, or seek further communications with any of the parents concerned. If you do not comply with these conditions, I will be forced to issue official reports to both the Bureau and the American Medical Association. Do you understand?" Scully's temper broke, and she shot to her feet, leaning across the desk, into the Director's face. "Are you threatening us, sir?" The little man's face turned bright red. "Don't play semantics with me, Agent Scully. It is you that has acted inappropriately. I am perfectly within my rights to report you I am being generous enough to offer you a compromise. I advise you take it." Mulder hastily nodded, and pulled the still-pale Scully from the office.
9. As soon as they stepped out into the sunlight, Scully swung to face Mulder. "What the hell is going on? Why is it that every time we find a lead it just disappears? dammit, Mulder, they're playing with us!" Mulder took her arm, and was shocked to feel her quivering. He'd rarely seen this temper. He led her gently toward a bench on the grass, freezing when he recognized a figure sitting on the next bench. Mulder sat down before the man had even noticed his presence. "How is your daughter, Mr Simpson? Up to mowing lawns yet?" Roger Simpson jumped, startled. When he saw who was sitting next to him the surprise twisted into fear. "I have nothing to say to you." He went to stand, but suddenly Scully was in front of him, blocking his way. "What's going on, Mr Simpson? Did you really file that report?" He ran a shaking hand over his head, pushing back imaginary hair. "You took blood from my daughter without my permission. I can't talk to you." Mulder spoke again, his calm voice countering Scully's anger. "Can't, or won't? Mr Simpson, we're trying to help. Do you care about your daughter?" The man snapped around to stare at Mulder with wild eyes. "Yes. Yes I do. Please stay away." He rose abruptly, knocking Scully back a step in the process, and hurried into the hospital. The agents stared after him. At 7pm, sharp, Saff threw open the door, beaming. She was wearing a light floral dress similar to the one she had worn the day before, but her feet were now bare, and her hair was caught back in a loose pony tail. Scully watched on in surprise as Saff planted a light kiss suspiciously close to Mulder's mouth before throwing her arms around her old friend. She practically dragged them inside the cluttered apartment. "Sorry about the mess, I haven't really started unpacking, you know how it is. Can I offer you anything?" Mulder offered a bottle of wine, which Saff took, nodding approvingly at the label. "I didn't think you were supposed to drink while on a case." "Well, being sober certainly hasn't helped." Saff's face clouded. "It's terrible, isn't it?" Scully frowned, sneaking a glance at Mulder. He shook his head. He hadn't told her. "Do you know why the hospital has barred us?" Saff stared at them, confused. "Barred you? Why?" "We don't know. We were refused entry this morning, and ordered not to come back." "Why would the hospital do that? Surely they want any help they can get?" Mulder gave a derisive snort. "You would think." Saff's puzzled face suddenly turned dark. "Then you haven't heard." She dropped her eyes. "Meg Hill took a turn for the worse last night. She stopped breathing. They put her on a respirator but her heart stopped a couple of times. It doesn't look good." She fingered the label of the bottle. "The doctors are keeping a hopeful face for her mother, but they don't think Meg will ever recover." She glanced up to see her companions register the news before continuing. There was more. "And this afternoon Beth died - complications, they don't know exactly what yet." Mulder felt like he had been punched in the stomach. "Beth? Elizabeth Simpson?" Saff hung her head slightly. "I'm sorry, that's all I know." Mulder sagged against the wall. A few seconds passed before he could bring himself to look at Scully. Do you think..? Because of us? She read his face like he had spoken the words aloud, and she shook her head slightly. "It's not uncommon for a GBS patient to relapse." But her eyes reflected his fears. They couldn't... they wouldn't... The silent communication passed so quickly Saff barely noticed it. Dinner passed in uncomfortable silence, the two agents lost in their own thoughts, Saff not willing to intrude. Attempts to push small-talk would only increase the discomfort, and perhaps push them away. And Saff did not want that. So she served the meal in silence, making frequent trips to the kitchen to check the next course, and continually filling undrained glasses in the hope that activity would disguise the discomfort. As the main course grew cold on the plates, Saff decided she could stand it no longer. If they couldn't think about anything else, then they would discuss the case. "Did you get anything from the blood samples you took?" Mulder pushed a pea around the plate with his fork. "They're gone. They were stolen before we could get anything solid." "But why would anyone steal them?" Mulder and Scully were silent. "Well, what are you going to do?" Mulder stabbed the pea. "There's nothing we can do. All avenues have been blocked. There's something here that we're not supposed to know." "You're just going to give up on those children?" Scully's head snapped up. "We haven't given up. We just need a new place to start. The blood samples are gone. I think we can presume the hospital won't give us the vaccination records I requested. So where do we go from here?" Mulder's potatoes that were absorbing his frustration now, being shoved into mounds with his fork. It was a while, even for him, before he answered. There was something going through his mind that Scully would not like. She watched him intently, searching for a clue of what was to come. She couldn't find it. He finally laid his fork gently on the plate. "Sapphire." His voice was soft, treading out shaky ground. "How good is your access in the hospital?" "Mulder, no." Scully's voice was firm, a warning, but he continued. "Could you get us a copy of the patient's medical records?" A shadow fell over Saff's face, and she stumbled for a moment, searching for the right words. "You're our only hope, Saff. If we can't get those files we'll just have to turn around and head back to..." "Mulder!" Silence fell like a pall, and he turned guiltily to meet Scully's flaming eyes. "Scully, you know it's true." "You have no right to -" "I'll do it." The voice was so soft they almost didn't hear it. Saff was twisting a strand of hair nervously in her fingers, but her face was determined. "I have to do something." Dinner grew colder. "You had no right to ask her to go." "She's our only chance." He peeked out the window into the parking lot again. It was a pointless action - if Saff's car had pulled up they would have heard it. He picked up the television remote and began flicking through channels. There was nothing on, just as there had been nothing on five minutes before. He didn't want to watch anything anyway. Scully was standing by the bed, shuffling and then resorting the Brabham file. Her laptop was open, but she was too on edge to sit still. She had nothing *to* type. "But Mulder you hardly know her. You have no right to get her mixed up in our quest." Mulder tipped his head towards her, but didn't meet her eyes. Like I got you mixed up in it? Scully mentally kicked herself. She knew what he was thinking, and that hadn't been what she meant. "Mulder I chose..." she trailed off. So had Saff. This was different though. She wasn't quite sure how. It was time to change the subject. "I'm going stir crazy. I need to do something." "She should have called by now." "She'll call when she's got the file." Scully stared at the piece of paper she was holding. 'school Water Toxicity Report'. She slipped it into the 'Useless' pile. This was ridiculous. At this rate she was going to come up with a filing system to rival Mulder's. "That's it Mulder. I'm going to get some lunch." "It's not even eleven yet," he replied, not needing to check his watch. "I've got to do something. Will something from the store up the road be okay?" He nodded absently, and checked the parking lot again. A few minutes after Scully left the phone finally rang. Mulder was there in a single stride. "Mulder." "Mulder?" replied a soft, uncertain voice. "Saff! Did you get it?" "It? What? Oh! No, I - I got caught." The voice wavered. "I'm sorry." Mulder closed his eyes and sat slowly on the edge of the bed. "Are you okay? Do you want us to come to your house?" "No. That's - that's why I'm calling. I - they - sent me home, I was driving to your motel, I musn't have been concentrating...There was an accident. I'm borrowing a phone." Mulder was already reaching for his jacket. "Where are you? I'll come and pick you up." 10. When Mulder pulled back in to the motel parking lot, Scully was waiting. "Dammit, Mulder, I'm going to have that phone surgically attached to your..." She stopped when she saw him help Saff from the car. She was limping slightly, and there was a dark bruise still swelling on her cheek. The elegant height she had carried the day before was swallowed by her rounded shoulders, and lowered eyes. Scully's doctoring instincts kicked in, but the expression on Mulder's face told her to wait. He led Saff into the bathroom to wash her face and then pulled back, shutting the door gently. "She got caught. She's been fired." Another entry on Mulder's guilt checklist. "On her way here she says that she wasn't concentrating, and she must have lost control. She hit a tree." "But?" "I saw the scene Scully. There was a second set of skid marks, and damage on the left side of her car. She was run off the road deliberately. I think she's just too hazy to realise. We have to test the last vial as soon as possible." "What?" They swung around to see Saff standing bolt upright in the door of the bathroom. She was swaying slightly, her jaw set, one white-knuckled hand gripping the door frame. Mulder hurried over to help her to the bed, and then crouched in front of her. "I had no right to ask you to go. I'm sorry." He reached up to push a strand of hair from her face. "I don't think it's safe for you here. I want you to come back to DC with us." Saff slowly unclenched her fists. For a moment she looked like she was going to refuse. Mulder took her hands in his. "For a while at least. You can stay with Scully or me. We can go to your place, pack a few things. Let your friends know you'll be out of town. How long will it take?" Saff forged a smile. "I've only been here a week. Most of my stuff is already packed, and I've got no friends. There's nothing for me here." She sat up straighter. "I always wanted to live in the capital one day." Mulder rode in Saff's car back to DC. During the trip she cheered up considerably. Soon she was cracking jokes and sharing lighthearted memories of Dana's childhood like she had in the cafe so long ago. Over lunch, the two agents shared bewildered looks at her resilience. She stayed close to Mulder though, rarely leaving his side. Mulder didn't notice, but if he had he wouldn't have minded. He was growing to like her company. Scully took the brief moment while Saff was in the bathroom to comment. "She's becoming very dependent on you." "She's fine." Scully snorted. "She hasn't left your side since the car accident, Mulder. She just lost her job, her home... You're the psychologist." Mulder shook his head. "She's doing pretty well, considering. She just needs some time. But if she feels comfortable with me, maybe she..." "You want her to stay with you." "I always sleep on the couch anyway. My bed is just waiting for someone to use it." "Of course. The Office of Professional Conduct would just love that. A female witness staying with a male agent." Mulder took swallowed a mouthful of coffee, shaking his head. "The Office of Professional Conduct doesn't give a damn what we do. If they did, I would have been thrown out of the FBI years ago. And so would you." "They pay attention when it suits them. Why give them reason?" "It doesn't matter anyway. Saff's not a witness. She's an old friend of yours who's going to stay in DC. Unless you want to put your suspicions into the official report?" Scully gave only a thin-lipped glare in answer. And then Saff emerged from the toilets, and the matter was dropped. Saff never questioned why she was staying with Mulder that night, but seemed grateful. As they entered his apartment he offered a half-hearted apology about the mess and picked up a few token socks and shirts. She took them out of his hands and threw them back on the floor with an understanding smile. "If you put any of this stuff away you'll never find it again. I don't want to be any trouble." "Can I get you something to eat?" She wrinkled her nose and rubbed the goosebumps rising on her bare arms. "Not yet. I'd love to get changed, though. It's getting cool." He guided her to his bedroom and deposited her bag on the bed. "As you can see, the bachelor decor extends to the bedroom." Saff grinned. "Exquisite." She reached over and began to rummage through her bag. Mulder smiled at her back before excusing himself. He was heading to the kitchen to boil the kettle when the phone rang. "Mulder." "Agent Mulder you are in imminent danger. I have information that is vital to your current case and the continuation of your work. Meet me at the traffic circle on the Waterfront at 4pm." "Who..." but the line was dead. The phone hung in his hand for a only a moment before he swung into action. He checked his watch. He would barely make it. He headed to his bedroom to find Saff pulling a turtleneck down over her bare mid-drift. "I have to go out. I won't be long." Her face fell. "Where?" "Just to the Waterfront." "Why?" "I have to meet someone." "Do you have to go right away?" "I'm cutting it fine as it is. I have to be there at four." "Please don't go." Mulder halted. He hadn't expected this Saff softened her voice. "I'm still a bit shaky. People don't try to kill me every day." She smiled slightly, but the facade was weak. Mulder wavered uncomfortably. As much as Scully's 'I'm fine' attitude bothered him sometimes, he was grateful for the distance she left between them. But a tiny corner of his soul warmed at the opportunity of being strong for someone. He checked his watch again. He was cutting it very fine. "What if I call Scully? I'll get her to come and stay while I'm out." Saff stared at him for a moment, mind warring. She reached out and touched his cheek softly. "I'm sorry. I was being silly. You go. I'll be okay." "Are you sure?" She nodded. But as he reached the door he heard her soft tones. "Hurry back." The sun was still beating down on the docks, making children even more irritable about being pulled from stand to stand, and amplifying the smell of fish. Bike riders and rollerbladers dodged sweat-drenched joggers. Burly, bronzed fishermen lifted tubs of fish from trucks to the ground and tipped buckets of ice over the displays to keep them chilled. A man moved from stand to stand, comparing fish, but resisting the vendors' valiant attempts to bargain with him. Occasionally he spared a glance for the crowd, but from all appearances it was of little interest. He paused to enquire about a few prices, but soon moved on without making a purchase. He allowed himself a casual glance at his watch. It was right on four, and there was no Agent Mulder in sight. He edged closer to the traffic circle in case the agent was simply obscured by the crowds, but there was still no sign. As he turned to sink back into the crowd, he saw a face he recognized. He stepped back, colliding into a woman on a bike, the pair of them crashing to the concrete. Deaf to her abuse he pulled himself out of the tangle and dashed back, past the statue. He was pushing against the crowd now, incurring the wrath of an endless stream of joggers. The people were jostling him back toward the man behind. He spotted an opening in the crowd to his left and dashed through. Into the arms of another familiar face. Mulder hurried forward through the crowd. It was just past four when he finally pushed his way through to the statue. He'd made better time than he expected, despite the traffic jam. He searched the crowd for a face that was recognizable, or shifty, or out-of-place, but everyone seemed to be going about their normal business, absorbed in haggling over prices, or jogging, or eating and talking. He settled down on a bench to wait. A quarter past. Something was up. Mulder scanned the crowd for the hundredth time, unease climbing. Sources did not set up meetings and then arrive late. He'd been less than five minutes late - they couldn't have been that impatient, surely? He was in clear view. He couldn't have been missed. Mulder shifted in his seat and brushed his hand over his hip, to reassure himself that his gun was in easy reach under his coat. He scrutinized the crowd again. But if it had been a trap the meeting would have been at night, in a deserted place. Here he was in full view. Unless... unless it wasn't a trap for him. He yanked out his phone. His fingers stumbled to dial his own number correctly. 11. The phone rang. And rang. A click. "You've reached the home of Fox Mulder. Leave a message after the beep." Mulder's chest tightened. "Saff? Are you there? Saff, pick up!" "Mulder? Is everything okay?" His knees weakened with the sudden relief. "Yeah - I was going to ask the same of you." "Of course. I'm feeling much better." There was a pause. "Why wouldn't I be?" "I'm sorry, I'm just being paranoid. I'm on my way home now, okay?" "Okay. I'll see you soon." He hung up and dialled again. "Scully." "Scully, there's something going on that I don't like." "Mulder there's always something going on that you don't like." "I don't think we should wait any longer. I'll meet you in the office at 6am tomorrow. We have to know what's in that vial, Scully." Saff headed for the living room as soon as she heard Mulder's key in the lock. She pulled the door open for him and smiled sympathetically at his downcast face. "You look beat." He nodded as he walked in, sighing gently as Saff pulled his jacket off and pushed him toward the lounge. She settled behind him and began to rub his rounded shoulders. "Tell me about it." Mulder shifted slightly, unsure whether he liked where this was going. "It's nothing." Saff's hands stopped. "It's got to be something." "It's just been a very bad couple of days." "What happened on the Waterfront?" "It doesn't matter." Saff pulled her hands into her lap, though he didn't notice. She bit her lip and shut her eyes, silently counting to ten. She looked at him. He was staring vacantly somewhere beyond the far wall. His hair was a mess, and his clothes crumpled. He looked like he needed sleep, not the third degree. Saff moved to kneel in front of him, to gently removed his shoes and socks. He came back to earth just enough to offer a nervous smile. Saff smiled back. "Would you like anything? Coffee?" Mulder's smile broadened. "You read my mind." Saff placed a hand on Mulder's knee as she stood, and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Coming right up." While the coffee was brewing Saff wandered back out to the lounge room. Mulder's bag was open, and he was fingering a small silver case like a thermos, with the same glazed look he had been using for the wall. "What's that?" His voice was soft, like it came from far away. "The last one." "I'm sorry?" Mulder heard her this time. "Nothing, don't worry about it." He stood and brushed past her, heading for the kitchen. Damn him! Her lips pressed together in frustration. She knew this was no time to be pushing him. But when was? "Well if you need me I'll be in the kitchen, baking or sewing, or something, like a good little woman." Saff stalked to the bedroom, pausing hopefully in the door for a reaction. Mulder didn't even glance in her direction, just shoved the flask into the fridge and began to fiddle with the thermostat. The bedroom door slammed. A few minutes later Mulder knocked softly on the door. When there was no answer he pushed it open, to find Saff violently shoving at a drawer which wouldn't close because it was full of socks. She stopped shoving the drawer for a moment, and began to shove the socks further in instead. She tried the drawer again but it wouldn't budge. She kicked it and swore, unaware of Mulder's presence. He silently pulled his gun from its holster, gripping it tightly by his thigh, just out of Saff's view. "Find what you're looking for?" Steely eyes turned to glare at Mulder. "I'm sorry?" "Usually people have the decency to wait until I'm not home to sweep the place." Saff's frown held a moment longer before dissolving into shock. "You think I'm searching for something?" "I don't recall hiring your services as a maid." "I clean when I'm angry. My dad used to make us clean the house when we fought as kids, I guess the habit stuck." He nodded, taking a moment to stare around the room. So that's what color the carpet was. The place hadn't been this clean since he moved in. Which was strange, because he didn't even live in the bedroom. "So what do you do when you're depressed? Plant wiretaps?" Saff swung to face him properly, hands on her hips, chin thrust forward. "How dare you! I'm not the one keeping secrets here. Don't you trust anyone, Mulder?" He met her glare with his own, but she refused to back down. "I can't tell you everything. Some things are..." "Confidential? Mulder I lost my job for you, and now people are trying to kill me or something. I at least have the right to know why. What do I have to do to earn your trust?" The look on his face was almost enough to make her regret her tirade. She walked up to him and squeezed his hand in hers. "I don't regret what I did, Mulder. I just need to know why." He shifted uncomfortably, still unwilling. "I'm not asking to examine your most classified files. But you're treating me like a kid. Who tried to run me off the road? And why?" "Someone wants to stop us from investigating those children. I don't know who." "Have they succeeded? Is this where we give up again?" Mulder pulled his hand from hers, taking the time to measure his answer. "When the lab was cleared I had one blood sample in my hand. That vial is all we have left, but Scully thinks that it might be all we need." "What is it?" Mulder took a breath, and then stopped. He wasn't ready to let go that much. "I have no idea. Scully's going to do some tests tomorrow." Saff considered for a moment, and then her face softened and she dipped her head in acceptance. Mulder shifted uncomfortably, turning so that his companion couldn't see him slip his weapon back into it holster. "Is there anything you'd like to do?" She smiled, and brushed her long fingers to Mulder's cheek, and then leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. After the barest of hesitations Mulder stepped back, focusing his gaze firmly on the floor. "I'm sorry." Saff threw up her hands. "Spare me. I know the drill. You like me *but*. I guess I just misread the signals. I'll take the couch." She straightened her shoulders and walked out. Mulder awoke in the middle of the night, uncertain. The room was in darkness. Oh. He was in his bed. He tensed as he heard movement in the next room. A creak. The click of a cupboard. The soft whoosh of the tap. He relaxed, and settled back. Saff. Getting a glass of water. Saff. He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. She was beautiful. The idea of them sharing a bed tonight had crossed his mind. But it didn't feel right. She was a friend of Scully's it would be kind of incestuous. Before the movement in the kitchen silenced, Mulder had already drifted back into to a peaceful sleep. Saff looked up from her newspaper as Mulder let himself into his apartment. "Shouldn't you be at work?" Mulder smiled, glad to see that last night's tension was gone. "Miss Scully gave me the morning off." He shrugged off his coat, tossing it over a chair. "I'm not a scientist. I can't do anything but wait and catch up on paperwork, and I can do both here." He settled down at his computer. "Is there anything I can get you?" Saff shook her head, with a glance toward her still-full glass. "I'm fine, and I can find the kitchen myself. You just get on with your work." After a few minutes Saff stretched, groaning as her back cracked. "I'm going to go for a walk. You want anything from the store?" Mulder eyed the door warily. "I don't think that's a good-" "Nonsense. I am not going to live like a prisoner. Do you want anything from the shop?" "I'll pass." Mulder watched, still worried, as Saff reached for her coat. She stopped, staring at the bookshelf, her face suddenly soft. "Is that you?" It was a photo of him and Sam, taken at one of those professional studios just before their last Christmas. The pair of them were unnaturally well-groomed and standing stiffly, like it was an old sepia photograph from the early days of cameras. Typical studio photo. Saff caught his eye and smiled softly, the same sympathy she'd offered yesterday back in her eyes. "I've changed my mind. Your paperwork can wait. Let's go for a drive. We'll take my car." Mulder was taken aback. "What if Scully calls?" "Bring your cell phone." Ten minutes later they were on the road. Scully set all her equipment up before she started her investigation. Good Scientific Practice. It was almost an hour before she was ready to take the vial out of the flask and begin peering through microscopes. It wasn't possible. She checked again. And again - a different slide on a different microscope this time. And then she tried a couple of tests that she knew couldn't lie. This wasn't the same blood. Scully grabbed for her phone. Answering machine. Damn. "Mulder? Are you there? Pick up, Mulder!" There was no reply. She punched in his cell phone number. There was no response. Where the hell could he be? And how the hell did the blood get swapped? It hadn't left Mulder's hands since the rest had been stolen. No one had been near it except herself and Mulder. And Saff. That wasn't possible. She had to talk to Mulder. It had been in his hands. But she couldn't get a hold of him. He was missing. With Saff. She scooped up her car keys and headed for Mulder's apartment, chanting her mantra. There's a perfectly sane, rational explanation for this. 12. "So where are you taking me?" "Wherever." "We can't go far. If Scully calls..." "We won't go far." Mulder sneaked a glance at the woman beside him while she concentrated on the traffic. Her head was tipped slightly toward him as she peered into the rear-view mirror, tendrils of brown hair resting gently across her cheek. As his gaze followed her body down, his phone caught his eye. The green light was off. "Shit. The phone's off. How did that happen?" Saff cast a puzzled eye toward it. "One of us must have bumped it." She reached over and pushed the 'on' button. Mulder glanced at the phone warily. "Scully's gonna kill me. What if she's already got the results and she's been trying to call me?" Saff chuckled. "Give her time, gorgeous. She'll barely have started." Mulder reached for the phone. "I'd better call anyway." Saff pulled the phone from his hand, grinning mischievously. "Miss Scully gave you the morning off. If something happened, which I'm sure it hasn't, she would call back." Mulder frowned. "Saff, I'd better call." As she pulled up at a deserted set of traffic lights, Saff held the phone out of his reach. "Come and get it." Mulder let out a frustrated sigh, but seeing Saff wasn't going to give in, he lunged across her lap and grasped the phone. She leaned over, breathing warm on his cheek. And then he felt a prick and it all went dark. Scully burst into Mulder's apartment. It was empty. At least there were no signs of a struggle. She headed for Saff's bags, stashed neatly in the corner, and began to rifle through. A couple of syringes. A small bottle of sodium penthanol. A file. Two files. On Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully. "What happened?" "You fell asleep." Mulder tried to untangle his thoughts. They were strangely hazy. "No. No I didn't." The words were awkward in his mouth. His whole body felt strangely heavy. Saff sighed. "No. You didn't." She pulled the car to the side of the road. "I had to make sure you'd come." Mulder stared at her, uncomprehending. "Where?" She shifted nervously. "I can't tell you." Mulder twisted clumsily in his seat, and struggled with the door handle, but his fingers wouldn't follow directions. "Let me out." "You couldn't stand up straight if I did let you out. That stuff's pretty effective." "I'd have gone wherever you asked." He tried to shake his head, to clear it. He turned a tired face to the woman beside him. "I should have known." "You don't know anything yet." "I know I shouldn't have trusted you." His mouth twisted into a scornful leer. "So that explains why you were spring cleaning my house. Did you find what you were looking for?" Saff pushed all the sincerity she had into her voice and gave him a wide-eyed glance. "Please, trust me a little longer." "Do I have a choice?" She ignored the sarcasm. "I can let you go when that drug wears off. But I have something you want." Mulder turned to the window, expressionless. It was a mask even Scully would have trouble reading through. But he did not try to get out. Saff drove on. A little after noon they stopped for lunch in a small road house. Saff opened Mulder's door and helped him stand. For a moment he had to accept her support, as the world spun around him, and his brain struggled to find his legs. "It's going to take a bit of concentration to walk, but you should be okay by now." Mulder transferred his balance from Saff to the car, the most defiant protest he could manage. As he prepared to walk, Saff grabbed his arm again. "You mustn't use any of these people as some sort of escape attempt. You will endanger their lives." "Thanks for the warning." He pulled his arm back, and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. As they headed into the restaurant Mulder paused, staring at his captor defiantly. "May I use the bathroom please?" Saff's face hardened at his sarcasm. "You're not a prisoner." She waited nervously, and was glad to see that he returned. "So where are we going now?" "Why don't you order some lunch? I've already ordered mine." He shrugged, and stepped up to the brunette behind the counter. "May I help you, sir?" "I'll have... Just a burger with everything, thanks." She frowned. "Are you okay, sir?" He nodded, and smiled a little. "Have you ever had one of those days?" She smiled back. "I've had lots of them, sir. Would you like anything to drink?" "Sulphuric acid?" She laughed. "That bad?" As she laughed her left eye crinkled shut, and her mouth pulled slightly to the side. Almost as though from habit, she lifted her hand to cover her winking eye. When she pulled her hand away she caught Mulder staring at her face. She rolled her eyes and grinned. "It's a leftover from a childhood illness. I don't suppose you've ever heard of Guillain Barre Syndrome?" Mulder's jaw dropped, but before he could ask anything further he felt a tug at his arm. "We have to go." "No." "We have to go. Now." Mulder resisted, but she leaned close, breath hissing in his ear. "There's a man sitting against the back wall, wearing a brown leather jacket. He wasn't supposed to be here today. If he recognises you or me, we're all dead. You, me, and the pretty waitress." The urgency in Saff's eyes and the tugging which threatened to unbalance him left him no choice but to follow her. He cursed himself for still trusting her, and nodded a goodbye to the puzzled girl behind the counter, vowing to return. As Saff slid behind the wheel, Mulder scrutinised her. "You didn't want me to know that woman had had GBS." There was no reaction. "Why did you bring me here if you didn't want me to know her?" Sapphire's lips were pressed together tightly, and she refused to move her gaze from the road. "You didn't need to know. It is not good for you to know." Mulder exploded. "*I'll* decide what *I* need to know!" Saff didn't flinch. She spared him a brief, unreadable glance, but she would offer no more. He gave up and watched the scenery flash by. A while later his brow creased. Some of the landmarks were familiar. "We've gone in a loop. We're heading home." There was no reply. The crease grew deeper. What was going on? They were halfway home when a familiar car appeared in the distance. As it grew closer the driver became familiar too. Red hair, and eyes that could barely see over the steering wheel. "Congratulations, Mulder. You called her while you were in the bathroom, right?" On another day Mulder might have been triumphant. "You shouldn't have left the phone lying around if you didn't want me to use it." "I wouldn't have if I cared. If it mattered, I would have cleaned up my trail a hell of a lot better than I have. I would have cleared my stuff out of your apartment. But it doesn't matter. I did what I came to do." Scully slammed on the brakes, sliding her car to a stop in front theirs, and tumbled from her seat to point her gun at Saff. Mulder pushed back a relieved grin. Good ol' Scully, action hero. Saff pulled up slowly. She raised her hands innocently, so that Scully could see them. "Step out of the car, Saff." She did as she was told. Mulder climbed slowly out the other side. "Are you okay, Mulder?" He nodded. "Where's the blood sample, Saff? What did you do with it?" "It's gone." Mulder swung to face her. "You stole the sample?" "That's not important." Her voice was cold and flat. "That vial was the only link I had to find my sister." Disbelief raged in his voice. Hate welled up, threatening to hurl Mulder across the hood of the car toward the woman who had betrayed him, until it was stopped cold by her words. "You found her already." Both agents stared, not understanding. The cold which had settled over Saff's features lifted, replaced by gentle resignation. "Back at the roadhouse, the woman that served you. That was your sister." 13. Silence settled over the group. Scully stared at her old friend, astounded. But Saff's attention was on Mulder, swaying back and forth on his feet, mouth wide. He grabbed for the driver's door handle. His urgency and the final remnants of the drug left him unable to coordinate himself well enough to open it, and so he just swung impotently on the handle, frustration and shock building to break. Saff circled the car to rest a hand gently on his, her presence drawing his eyes to hers. "You can't Mulder. You must never go back." He stared into her eyes for a moment, and then suddenly shoved her back onto the asphalt and jerked the door open. "No Mulder! They've fucked with her mind! They don't intend for the process to be reversible. If you try to bring her back you'll lose her completely. Mulder I'm telling the truth." Mulder sank into the car seat, shaking. Saff continued, urgently seeking a way through his confusion. "I've seen it before, Mulder. If they start seeing familiar faces, those faces can jog memories. Even that brief encounter today was dangerous to her. I've seen what happens to people who start to remember. The human mind can't handle it." "Sam was strong." "Your memories of Sam are an altar to an eight-year-old. You don't know her. She's fallible like anyone else. I've seen it Mulder. Don't do it to her." He tipped his head. "Who *are* you?" "I'm trying to build the world that you're trying to destroy." A derisive snort. "Then why would you show me my sister?" "You've been an ignorant lackey for the darker plans of the consortium since you were a child. You don't belong in the game. Now that you have Sam you are no longer their pawn." "But I don't have Sam." "It's not just her memories we have to worry about. They keep an eye on her. I did a lot of checking to make sure that the place would be clear today. If they ever think you've found her, they will kill her. They'll kill Dana." Saff paused to glance at her old friend, who was watching in horror, before directing her gaze back to Mulder. "If you're lucky, they'll kill you." Sensing that she had finally gained his attention, Saff picked herself up from the place where Mulder had pushed her to the road and shifted toward him. She crouched in front of him, and rested her hands softly on his knee. Blood seeped from the grazes on her palms, staining his trousers. "Sam is okay. Take peace in that." He shoved the hands away angrily and stood up, using his full height to loom over her. "What about the truth? I need to know what happened." "You don't want *the* truth, Mulder. There is no *the* truth. There are only sides and opinions. You only know what we feed you." "I know that innocent people suffer for these men." Saff's mouth settled into a hard line. "Innocent people suffer for the greater good." "What about all those children in hospital? Is that 'good'?" "Those children were a wonderful success. They were advanced mentally and physically. Before the accident with the rubella vaccinations they had never been ill." "How many unfortunate accidents? How many people have to pay for your vision?" "You understand nothing, Agent Mulder. They were vaccinated. When vaccinations wiped out smallpox, it was a coup. This vaccination could wipe out all disease. We should be celebrating." Mulder struggled, unsure of an answer, wondering how Saff could be winning this argument. "They're not doing this for the good of humanity. They're just trying to build better soldiers." "The intentions don't matter. The project will never be finished." "What do you mean?" Saff stopped, caught. It was clearly something she hadn't meant to let slip. Mulder took advantage of the unexpected high ground. "You don't entirely agree with the project, do you?" He had found her weakness. Now to probe, gently. "How do you know it will fail?" He walked slowly closer to her. "Are you sabotaging them? That's a dangerous game to play, Saff. Or do you know something they don't?" Suddenly she clammed up. Mulder pushed again, searching for the right buttons. "If you believe in this project why are you helping us? Whose side are you on?" "I believe in the project. Your father believed in it too." She regretted the comment even before she saw the pain whip across Mulder's face, but she couldn't stop here. "Yes. Some people abuse their power. But that is no reason to destroy the whole project." Her voice grew harsh. "You haven't a clue what you're up against. You're throwing blind punches, hurting the good with the bad. You do nothing to further your cause, Mulder. You're just a pawn for the people you profess to hate." "You used me as a pawn." Saff glanced at the road to gather her thoughts. Suddenly her voice was quiet. "I did, too, didn't I?" She stood up and stared into his eyes, begging him to believe her. "I used you to get to the blood sample just like you used me to get the records. For something I believe in." "You lied to me." "Like you were hiding your truth from me; to protect you." "How can I hide truths I don't know?" Saff thumped the car door in frustration. "Mulder you still don't get it, do you? There is no truth. It's all semantics. You have no idea just how big this thing is. Not even the men who believe they are orchestrating it know. This is bigger than them. The date is set." "Damn you! I am so sick of everyone's stupid cryptic speeches!" Saff and Mulder both stared at Scully, shocked at her outburst, even surprised to realise she was still there, only inches from their argument. "Just tell us what you mean! Do you know why I was taken? Why someone put a computer chip in my neck? Did you know that they are numbering the population like cattle? Do you know why?" "Their reasons don't matter. It is just a role they play." "We need to know. I need to know." "Knowing won't stop the project. It is decreed. They are numbering us. They will cause all to receive a mark." Scully's eyes rounded. She understood. "And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads: And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name." Saff stared for a moment before finishing the passage so quietly the agents had to strain to make out the words. "Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred threescore and six. Revelations, chapter thirteen, verses fourteen to eighteen." Scully took a deep breath. "You're saying - this is the start of the end." Saff nodded, but did not look up. "The Smallpox Eradication Program... They're using the cowpox virus to number us. It's the mark of the beast. You're saying this is the Apocalypse." Saff stepped closer, shaking her head. "Cowpox hasn't been used to immunise against smallpox for over fifty years. You should know that. They've used the vaccinia virus for inoculations for the last fifty years or so. Do you know where the vaccinia virus came from, Dana?" Scully shifted her head slightly. No. "Neither does anyone else. More than a billion people have been vaccinated with it, but no one knows where it came from or even when we started using it. Some scientists believe the virus evolved, but it's on a very different path in the evolutionary chain to cowpox. And it's not derived from any other naturally occurring pox virus, either." Mulder watched Saff, enthralled. "So what is it?" Saff laughed, bitterly. "Go home, Mulder. You can't fight God." Scully stepped closer. "But you believe that some men abuse their power. So show us a way to fight those men. You know we won't let go. But you can choose a path for us, Saff. Our next move depends on you. Are we going to be pawns, or do you want us to police the men who are turning your good intentions to their own purposes?" She held her breath. This had to be the weakness in Saff's armour. Saff contemplated Scully for a long time. Scully was beginning to wonder if she would ever move, when suddenly she stepped behind still-shaky Mulder, producing a gun from god-knewwhere and holding it against his neck. "Drop it, Dana. I don't want to hurt him, but I value my life above his and yours." Scully realized too late that her own gun was swinging idly at her side. In the midst of the argument, she'd unconsciously reengaged the safety and then forgotten she was even holding it. She flicked her gaze to Mulder's eyes, but they weren't fully focused. "He can't do anything, Dana. I drugged him earlier, and he's in no state to fend off an armed assassin. I won't hurt him, I just want to get out of here." After a few more seconds of hesitation, Scully walked back a couple of paces and crouched to put her weapon on the asphalt. She stood slowly, gaze never leaving her former friend, and took one more step backwards. They stood and regarded each other in silence. Saff raised an eyebrow, and glanced toward the gun. Scully kicked the gun off to the side of the road. Tipped her head in challenge. Your move. As Scully tipped her head, Saff twisted her gun wrist and fired a single shot. Scully jumped and twisted, then spun back to find Saff already had her unemotional mask in place and her gun back against Mulder's neck. Mulder's head was twisted away, his right eye screwed shut, in pain. The echo of the gunshot had to be echoing around in his head - it probably would for days to come. Scully turned again, only slightly, to see where Saff had fired. Her car was leaning forward at an awkward angle, the front left tyre flat. "If you want to do something worthwhile, Dana, you go and find him that hath understanding." Saff suddenly shoved Mulder forward, spinning him toward Scully. Before Scully could compose herself to find her gun, Saff was already in her car. And then with a rev of the engine and a screech of tyres, she drove away. 14. Somehow they made it home that evening. They went to their respective apartments without saying another word, each understanding the other's need to process their new information. They never followed Saff. Just watched her slowly melt into the horizon, knowing they had milked her of all the information they were going to get. Would they see her again? Who knew? When Scully arrived in the basement the next morning, Mulder was already there, shuffling half-heartedly through papers. On closer inspection she could see that they were the lists of numbers they had found in Jeremiah Smith's files. The Smallpox Eradication Program. "Wanna lay bets on who's got the 666 combo, Scully? I'm putting sixty bucks on Michael Bolton." The joke sounded forced, even to him. Scully leaned against the side of his desk. "Was it her?" "I'll never know." Scully tried to search Mulder's face, but he refused to look up from the page he was studying. She let the question hang in the silence, knowing that more would come if she was patient. When he finally looked up she could see his Adam's apple bob. "Yes, it was." Scully gave no reaction but a shift in facial expression that only Mulder could read. He fixed his gaze on her. "Do you believe? What she said? Is this all divine will?" "People have been predicting the Apocalypse since the beginning of time. Some people think Clinton's health program is a sign of the second coming." Mulder kept talking, lowering his eyes, as though he wasn't even listening. "The woman at the roadhouse... her face was paralysed. She'd had Guillain Barre Syndrome." Scully's face flickered. "She seemed happy." "Are you going to go back to the roadhouse?" "What if Saff was telling the truth?" Scully licked her lips, taking the time to choose her words. "Do you trust her?" Mulder tipped his face up again, brow wrinkling into a frown in an almost mechanical gesture. "You know I trust only you, Scully. But can we afford to take that sort of chance?" He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, willing himself the courage to open up. "I used to imagine finding Sam. She was always searching for me too, or waiting for me to come and rescue her. When I found her I would bring her home to mom and dad." "And live happily ever after." He smiled sadly in agreement. "If we aren't ever going to find justice, why are we here? Why did we get up this morning and come to work?" "Because we don't know what else to do." Scully picked up the photo that was ever-present on Mulder's desk and studied the eerily familiar features of the pig-tailed girl. "There's a happy ending somewhere, Mulder. There has to be." "I'm so tired, Scully. I'm tired of trusting no one, tired of chasing shadows and never getting anywhere." His mouth twisted into something halfway between a grin and a grimace. "Maybe we should just chuck it all in and shack up together?" "Not likely, Mulder. I've seen the way you live." She reached over and took half of the pile of September sheets into her lap. Mulder's smile became a little more genuine. "How do you do it, Scully? Every time they kick us down, you just get back up looking even more determined." She contemplated him for a moment. "I've always wondered the same about you," she sighed inside when she saw his brow crease in confusion. And then she crossed back to her desk and began to leaf through the paperwork. The End 'I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.' Atticus Finch Notes on the smallpox vaccine: As for why Scully was talking about the cowpox virus in Herrenvolk - well, I don't understand it. Saff's little speech on the smallpox vaccine, and how no one knows from where it was derived, is all true. Sometime in the last 50 - 100 years, we ceased to use the cowpox virus as the vaccine, and began using the vaccinia virus. It was originally assumed that the vaccinia virus evolved from cowpox, but recent research has shown that it is actually from a different evolutionary path, and is closer to (but not derived from) buffalo pox. Scientists can't work out where it evolved from. Hmm... I have been watching too much X-Files... It's kind of cute, isn't it, how every animal has its own pox but us - we just borrow all theirs... If you're reading this, either you've skipped here to find out how this ends (Stop that!) or you've finished. I'm impressed. Not even *I've* read this far. So have you e-mailed me? I've entertained you, for free, for at least an hour, so I think you should e-mail me a 3000 word in depth critique. Criticism is welcome, even begged for. Were Mulder and Scully in character? What do you think of the ending? Too open? Too much? Don't get it? This is essentially where I think CC is going with the vaccinations - to the Apocalypse. What do you think? What about Saff - did you like her? Hate her? Suspect her all along? Or if you've hated every minute, you should definitely write me a strongly-worded letter of complaint for wasting your time. Big thanks and huge, sloppy kisses to my editors: Editor in chief, the ever patient Euphrosyne. Cheryl Deluca, who probably doesn't even remember editing it, and wouldn't recognize it if she did. (Cheryl edited GBS way back in early February - like I said, this thing's been in the works a while.) And the BRC Round Robin: Debbie Goldstein, CiCi Lean, Valoise Armstrong, the other Deb, Emily Phelps and Jo-Ann Lassiter. Special big hug and loads of X-Files joy to Kathleen Lietz for running the BRC, the most wonderful thing since Skinner joined the X-Files. I can't tell you all how wonderful the BRC Round Robin is. All e-mail welcome, whether it be sycophantic praise or indepth criticism, or just a note to let me know that someone has actually read it. Send it to me/ Please note that Guillain Barre actually has an e with an accent - but =E9 doesn't work on all computers so...
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