Truthseekers (1/4)

by Leyla Harrison





*******************************

OK to post to the newsgroup.

*******************************



Disclaimer #1:  I wrote this story A LONG TIME AGO, as in last summer.  I was 

bored waiting for the Season 3 premiere in September, and as summers usually 

can be long, I had a lot of time on my hands.  So I wrote a story about how 

*I* would have picked up where Anasazi left off.  So there's no season 3 

spoilers at all.  In fact, this story is nice - everyone who's died in Season 

3 was still alive when I wrote this.  I finally dug it off an old disk and 

decided to post it, regardless of the fact that it's dated.



Disclaimer #2:  This story is a work of fiction and is entirely the creation 

of the author.  It is based on characters and ideas created by Chris Carter. 

 Those characters and ideas are licensed by the FOX Television Network.  Any 

similarity betwen actual plot details and this story are purely coincidental.



Disclaimer #3:  Character bonding.  a wee drop of romance here - but 

basically just deep friendship.  Rating: PG-13 for some bad language.



Enough said!!!  On to the story.



*************************



Mulder, I'm so sorry about your father, Scully thinks, rehearsing.  She wants 

to somehow tell him that she understand how he feels when he gets back.  She 

knows that what she said to him before he left was not enough.  For her, the 

pain of losing her father is still painfully fresh in her mind.  And although 

Captain Scully wasn't murdered, it was still a sudden death, with no chance 

for her to say goodbye.  Now Mulder has to deal with the fact that he never 

really made peace with his father before he was killed. And worse yet, Scully 

thinks, to have him murdered by that asshole Krycek while Mulder was sitting 

in the next room.  She is almost sorry that she let Ratboy get away.  



But Scully knows that she would have been sorrier if Mulder had shot Krycek 

with the gun that could have possibly been the murder weapon.  Then Mulder 

would have not only been the prime suspect in his father's murder, but his 

fingerprints would have been all over the gun, and he would have been charged 

with two murders.  Scully wants Krycek dead, though, with everything that is 

in her.  And in a way, it scares her.  She has never consciously wanted a 

person to die as much as she wants Krycek dead.  For brief seconds, she has 

even contemplated having shot him when she had the chance.  This frightens 

her.  She is not used to having thoughts like that.  But, she thinks, I am 

not the same person I used to be.  So much has changed. 



But now she has much more to think about.  Mulder's phone call from the 

boxcar was almost twenty minutes ago, when the connection was broken and she 

was left with a dial tone.  She doesn't know what to think of what Mulder 



told her that he found.  She is almost grateful that she didn't go along with 

him.  The thought of seeing hundreds of bodies, possibly alien bodies, 

although intriguing, is not intriguing enough to make her want to climb into 

a musty boxcar with them.  She knows that it is Mulder's mission, his search. 

 He will give her answers when he returns.  She wonders where he is, what has 

happened, why he hasn't called back.



The door opens, and the teenage boy comes stumbling in.  He is upset, 

mumbling.  "Calm down," Scully says, going over to him immediately.  "Where 

is Mulder?" she asks, starting to feel apprehensive.



The boy tells her what he saw.  The man in the helicopter, the one who wore a 

suit and tie.  The soldiers tossing the firebombs into the boxcar.  Dragging 

him back into the helicopter.  Watching the boxcar and the surrounding area 

explode, then go up in flames. Coughing and sputtering as the man in the suit 

smokes slowly. Flying back towards town, where he is dumped off.



Scully knows who it is.  And she knows that she must get to Mulder, 

immediately.  "I need you to take me there," she says urgently.  Embarrassed 

but scared, the boy starts to cry, telling her that there is no way that 

Mulder could have lived through the blast.  That Mulder was a nice guy.  That 

he shouldn't have been killed.



"He must have gotten out somehow.  I have to go there," Scully presses him, 

and they get a car and the boy directs her there.  He has stopped crying.  

There is no conversation.  They drive over the bumpy roads and sand until the 

boy tells her to stop the car.  



"We can't drive any farther.  I took my bike last time, but they left it 

there when they took me.  We'll have to walk."



Scully gets out of the car and obediently begins to hike behind the boy.  All 

thoughts of Skinner, her job, the hearing, even the death of Mulder's father, 

have all vanished from her mind. All she can think about is Mulder.  If he's 

alive.  She wipes her eyes angrily with the back of her hand.  She can't cry 

now.  She needs to be strong.  He's alive, she tells herself.  He has to be. 

He's made it through before, she reminds herself.



Finally they get to the spot.  The boy looks at his bike and then at the 

areas where the entrance to the boxcar was.  The fire is out, but smoke is 

still seeping from the ground, making it look as if the earth is steaming.  

It is a strange sight.  Scully goes to the trap door and covers her hand with 

the boy's jacket, which he has handed over to her silently.  The handle of 

the trapdoor is still hot, though.  She can feel it through the light 

material of the coat.  She pulls the trap door open and falls back on her 

haunches, overcome by the amount of smoke that comes pouring out of the 

boxcar.  Oh, God, she thinks, there's no way he can be alive.



Scully coughs from the smoke and covers her nose and mouth with the jacket.  

The boy pulls her back to an area where she can breathe.  Her eyes are 

watering.  She pulls the jacket away from her face and looks at the entrance 

to the boxcar.  The boy looks at her.  They are both thinking the same thing, 

that Mulder is dead.



"No," Scully says aloud, and her eyes once again fill with tears.  She 

suddenly senses movement on the ground, about three hundred feet away from 

the boxcar entrance.  "Mulder!" she calls out and runs towards the spot, 

pushing layers of sand and dust away to reveal another entrance to the 

boxcar.  



"A whole train?" the boy asks out loud, astonished.  Scully knows it's 

incredible, too, but all she can think of is Mulder. The boy helps her pull 

the second trap door open and she peers in. 



"Mulder!" she calls and hears her voice echo off the walls. There is a 

strange smell to the boxcar, a smell that she recognizes, but cannot place.  

Her nose wrinkles and her eyes drift off for a second as she leans back, away 

from the opening.



"Scully," she hears Mulder answer her, and without another thought, she 

reaches her hands down into the darkness.  She feels his grip on her wrists 

and pulls with all of her strength.  The boy grabs Mulder's other hand and 

they pull him out together.  Mulder is talking.  "There's four boxcars down 

there.  They're all connected.  As soon as the trapdoor slammed, I made my 

way to the other end as fast as I could."



"Oh, Mulder," Scully says.  She can hardly hear him.  All she can think about 

is how scared of fire he is.  How terrifying it must have been, to have been 

trapped in there with all the bodies and the fire.  And she thinks about the 

fact that he was lucky; that he shouldn't have lived through this.   "I 

thought you were dead."  She cannot stop herself from bursting into tears, 

and she impulsively hugs Mulder tightly.  It is rare for her to have any 

physical contact with him, which is strange, considering that he is closer to 

her than anyone else in the world has ever been or ever will be.  She also 

rarely has emotional outbursts, because she isn't the type of person to go to 

pieces.



Mulder hugs her back, feeling amazement at how calm it makes him feel to have 

her arms around him.  He also wonders why they never hug each other.  He has 

touched her before, but only in situations when she had barely come out with 

her life.  Touching her, her arm, her face, at those moments when she was 

safe, out of harm's way, always somehow reassured him that she was all right. 

 And now a wave of peacefulness washes over him that is stronger than 

anything that he has ever felt. 

  

Scully is embarrassed by her tears and pulls away after a minute, but even 

though the physical contact is gone, the spell is not broken for either of 

them.  Mulder looks at her and takes her hands in his, squeezing them 

lightly, looking at her.  "You won't believe what's down there," he tells 

her.



"But the fire..." she says.  "The bodies must have been destroyed."



"Not where I was," he says, and although he is obviously exhausted and in 

considerable discomfort, he has a small grin on his face.  Then his 

expression turns serious. 



Scully looks at him intently.  He looks back to the entrance that she just 

pulled him from, then back to her.  She wonders what is going through his 

mind.  She takes a deep breath.



"I know it sounds incredible, Scully, but just listen.  You told me that it 

was an international conspiracy after the war to keep these secrets, and that 

the secrets were buried down there. Well, they are."  He pauses.  "Cancer Man 

called me right before I crawled in there.  He must have been nearby."  

Scully's eyes widen.  "He said that if I exposed anything, I would be 

exposing my father."



Suddenly it is all sinking in to Scully, everything Mulder has told her about 

his conversation with his father, everything that Cancer Man has said and 

done.  She understands.  "Mulder, your father was...somehow involved," she 

says.  She doesn't know how he is going to take this.  "He knew about all of 

this, the conspiracy."



Mulder looks down at their hands entwined, then back up at her.  "I know," he 

says.  "And I think he knew about what really happened to my sister."  This 

is obviously a painful admission for him, and Scully tightens her hold on his 

hands supportively.



"The files, Mulder," she says to him.  "We have to get back and read what 

they say.  We have to find out for sure.  The rest of it is all in the 

files."



Mulder knows that she wants to know all of it, but she specifically wants to 

know what happened to her when she was abducted.  He knows that he finally 

has to tell her what he knows before she finds out about it later.  God knows 

what else there is to find out about, and she might as well hear some of it 

now, "Scully," he says to her, "when you were in the hospital, I showed your 

chart to the Lone Gunmen.  They put everything into the computer and it 

showed that while you were gone, someone had somehow given you branched DNA. 

 That it was inactive by the time you got to the hospital."  He doesn't say 

anymore.  He can see by her face that she can figure it out from there.



"How did you know that it was true?" she asks.  "They could have been wrong. 

 Where did the Lone Gunmen get that information from?"  Her voice is raised, 

and she struggles to stand up, to get her hands away from his.  "You never 

told me."  Her voice is low and accusatory.



Mulder stands up as well, even though it's painful.  He tries not to let her 

see him wince.  "Scully, they got it from the biggest and best computer 

hacker.  The Thinker.  He's the same guy who gave me these Department of 

Defense files."



She falls back onto her heels, leaning back slightly, away from him.  

"Branched DNA," she says quietly.  "What was it used for?"



"They didn't know.  I told you, Scully.  By the time you were brought to the 

hospital, it was inactive.  It wasn't doing anything."  He can still hear the 

Lone Gunmen, what they said to him when Scully was lying in a coma.  *Whoever 

was experimenting on Scully, they're finished.  It's a waste product now.*  

He almost doesn't hear Scully.



"Mulder, there's more, isn't there?" she is asking.



"We have to get back to the hotel.  We have to look at those files," he says 

to her.  She nods her head mutely.  He doesn't know what else to say.  He 

doesn't want to guess anymore until he knows exactly what test the file was 

referring to.  But if it was administered to Duane Barry as well, he thinks, 

it can't be too good.  It must be something terrible.  He hides his fear from 

her well, though.



"I need to know," she repeats, and he nods.



They walk back silently towards the car with the boy guiding them.  The walk 

takes longer because Mulder cannot move as fast as he would like to.  His 

shoulder is throbbing and he feels dirty. He wipes his face as he walks.  

Scully looks at him.



"You're covered in soot," she says.  



"I'm going to take a shower when we get back.  I can still feel all those 

bodies up against me," he says, grimacing slightly. "There was a strange 

smell down there, Scully," he tells her.



Scully jerks her gaze away from him and looks at the ground as she walks.  

She doesn't want to tell him that she recognized the smell. She thinks that 

she smelled it sometime after Duane dragged her up to Skyland Mountain, but 

she's not sure exactly where or when.  The details are still very hazy in her 

mind.  The last vivid thing she remembers is Duane pulling her out of the 

trunk of her car, dragging her up the mountain, standing in the drizzle and 

the fog.  She was shaking from fear and from the cold.  And then there was a 

flash of light.  Scully remembers nothing else after this until she was at 

the hospital, when she had her out of body experience.  



She has never told Mulder about any of this, not because she doesn't trust 

him, because she does.  She hasn't told Mulder because what she does 

remember, and what she doesn't, is still too frightening for her to even be 

able to mentally process herself. She has put her abduction in a far corner 

of her mind, somewhere where she can remember it, but far enough that it 

can't be reached. Scully can feel herself having to reach for it now.  It 

scares her and she isn't sure that her fear is something that even Mulder can 

help her with.  It is something that she has to face alone, and once she has 

done that, then she can allow Mulder in past the barriers and let him support 

her in the aftermath.  She knows this.



Mulder watches her walk and doesn't ask her any questions. He cannot believe 

that she has done everything that she has in the last few days.  Once again, 

she has saved him, from Cancer Man, from Krycek, from facing murder charges, 

and from himself.  As far as Skinner and the Bureau goes, he doesn't allow 

himself to think of it.   All he can think of is what she has risked for him 

and what he is risking himself.  He fears what they may find in the files.  

He doesn't want to read that his father knew about Samantha's disappearance, 

possibly even arranged it.  Samantha could have been experimented on.  She 

may still be alive somewhere. Then again, Mulder thinks, she could have been 

killed right after her abduction.  All the years of searching may have been 

for nothing.  The fact that his father is dead and cannot answer those 

questions comes crashing back down onto Mulder's head.  



Mulder also wonders about what it says about Scully.  He has read enough to 

know the grisly details about the tests supposedly performed on female 

abductees.  He remembers what Duane Berry said about seeing the little girls, 

what was done to them.  He doesn't want to have to know that something like 

that happened to Scully. He thinks about the branched DNA that had become a 

waste product in her system by the time she got to the hospital.  Who was 

experimenting on you, Scully? he wonders, glancing over at her guiltily.  If 

he had not let her get so close to him, she never would have gotten so deeply 

involved.  Some of this might not have ever happened to her.



They get to the car and drop the boy off at home.  Albert is still working on 

the files, and he looks up as they enter.  "Agent Mulder," he says.  "I have 

been waiting for you.  I need to speak to you privately."



Scully raises her eyebrows, looking from the old man to Mulder.  Mulder nods 

slightly at her.  "I'll wait in the car," she says, and leaves.  Mulder 

follows the old man to his desk and looks down at the scribblings.





CONTINUED IN PART 2



-- 

"Why do you you always get to drive?

 Because you're the guy?  Because

 you're the big macho man?"

"No, I was just never sure your

 little feet could reach the pedals."

-Mulder and Scully, The X-Files

************************************

"You're a good friend."

"You too, sweetie, you're the best."

-Thelma and Louise

*************************************

"Dick, permission to bitch."

-Sally, 3rd Rock from the Sun

*************************************



TRUTHSEEKERS (2/4)

by Leyla Harrison





Disclaimers in part one.





"Agent Scully," the old man says,  "is someone very important to you."  

He says it as a statement, not a question.  Mulder nods his head again.  

"She was concerned for you.  She cares deeply for you.  She is a good 

person."



"I know," Mulder answered.  His heart is beginning to beat faster.  This 

can't be good news.



"I have deciphered the latest entry.  About the test that was 

administered to Mr. Barry and to Agent Scully," he says.  "You'd better 

sit down."  Mulder does and the man hands him a piece of paper.  Mulder's 

eyes stumble over the old man's handwriting, but he can still read the 

words.  He feels himself breaking out into a cold sweat.  At one point, 

he thinks he is going to vomit.  He covers his mouth with one hand and 

closes his eyes until the feeling passes.  He reads the entire page and 

finally hands it back to the old man.



"You're sure this is what it said?" Mulder asks weakly, and the old man 

nods.  





Mulder stands up and goes outside without saying anything else.  He sees 

Scully sitting in the car, looking out the window and he feels a stab of 

pain go through him.  How am I going to tell her? he wonders.  He gets 

into the car, trying to act calm, like nothing is wrong.  Scully doesn't 

ask him anything.  Once back at the hotel, Mulder takes a shower and gets 

dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.  He sees that Scully has 

changed into a similar casual outfit. Mulder sits down on the bed and 

Scully comes to sit beside him.  She helps him prop up some pillows 

behind his back so he can rest.



"What did he tell you, Mulder?" she asks.  Mulder looks at her.  He 

cannot ever recall a time when so few words have passed between them, 

that there have been so many silences in their conversations.  He doesn't 

want to lie to her, but he doesn't know if he can tell her the truth, 

either.  "He told you what they did, didn't he?" she asks.  Mulder nods 

slowly.  This will be the hardest thing he has ever had to do.  It's 

going to kill her, he thinks. 



"Mulder," she says to him, her hand resting on his forearm, her fingers 

wrapped lightly around the spot just above his wrist. Her eyes are calm. 

 "Tell me what they did to me."



Mulder recognizes this approach.  She's trying to make him believe that 

she's fine, that she's calm, but her voice is trembling.  Mulder feels 

his own heart pounding, thudding painfully in his chest.  He doesn't want 

her to know what the files said. He doesn't think she can handle it.



He's doesn't know for sure if he can handle it, for that matter.



He feels a lump in his throat.  It was hard enough for him to have to 

read it.  He didn't even have to close his eyes.  The image was already 

there, from when she had disappeared months before. Scully lying on the 

table, bright lights shining down on her. Figures standing around her 

body.  She would have been unable to stop them.  



Mulder doesn't want to blink now and give away the fact that he's about 

to break down.  He's trying not to lose it.  He clears his throat.  

"Scully," he starts again, "I don't think you want to know."



Her steady gaze and calm composure give way.  She gets up from the bed.  

"Oh, God," she breathes, closing her eyes.  Mulder can't even begin to 

imagine what is going through her head.  He gets up, stands so that he is 

facing her.  



"Scully--" he says, and sees her swaying unsteadily and reaches out for 

her, taking her by the shoulders.  "Come on, Scully.  You're OK," he 

tries to reassure her.  He shakes her gently.  She opens her eyes.



"Tell me, Mulder.  Not knowing...imagining--it's worse than not knowing." 

 Her voice is low, frightened.  Her face has gone pale, her eyes trying 

to stay focused on his face.  "I need to know, Mulder.  Please."



Mulder realizes that he's still holding her by the shoulders, but doesn't 

want to let go yet.  He's still scared that she may collapse.  He does, 

however, loosen his grip a bit.  "Scully, please trust me.  You don't 

want to know."



"Damn it, Mulder, tell me!" she snaps, raising her voice.  She is not 

crying, not yet, but she is close.  He has never seen her this upset.



"Scully," he says, and stares at her.  "It was a test.  They used the 

branched DNA to make you..."  His voice catches and he closes his eyes 

briefly, then opens then again.  He knows the words, but cannot say them. 

 A flicker of recognition crosses her face and she gets very pale.  Her 

eyes flutter.  Mulder can only imagine what is going through her mind.  

Then, for the first time in her life, Scully faints.  Mulder catches her 

before he hits the floor.

 

***



When Scully wakes up, she is laying on her back on the bed in the hotel 

room.  She sits up and looks around.  No sign of Mulder. The door is 

closed.  She feels as if she has been asleep for hours. She struggles to 

remember what happened.  It all comes back to her, slowly.  She looks at 

the bedside table.  There is a glass of water and an envelope propped up 

in front of it.  She snatches it up.



Scully weighs the envelope in her hand and debates whether or not to open 

it.  Her name is scrawled on the front in Mulder's handwriting.  She can 

tell that there is only one piece of paper inside, although she has no 

idea what it says.  The thought of Mulder writing her a letter is a 

little unsettling.  He has only left her a letter once before.  It had 

been a short note on his computer that she had been meant to find after 

her took off without her on a suicide mission to try to find out the 

truth about his sister.  Funny, she suddenly thinks, that she has known 

him for two years and the only way she would recognize his signature is 

from the bottom of a case file or a Bureau requisition.  It seems at that 

moment to be a sad note about their friendship.



She hesitates another full minute before opening the envelope. The note 

has been hastily scribbled on notepaper from the motel they are staying 

at.  Scully reads it quickly, too quickly.  She doesn't give herself time 

for it to sink in; she is more concerned about where Mulder has gone.  

She reads the note again, slower this time.



"I know that you want answers and explanations from me, but I don't know 

if I can give them to you.  We have built our partnership on trust, and I 

hope that somehow you can trust me when I tell you that you do not want 

to know this.



Scully, I hope that when the dust settles from all of this, when we get 

back to the Bureau, that you won't be held accountable for my behavior.  

I know that you made your own choices, but I can't help feeling as if you 

wouldn't have gone down this path unless I had shown you the way.  I 

don't want us to be reassigned again, Scully.  I can't handle another 

separation from you.  You're the only person I can trust.  For that I 

admire and respect you very much."  There is a small spot of ink on the 

paper after that, as if Mulder had let the pen rest there as he thought 

of what to write next.  



"You must have an idea about how I feel about you, Scully. I care about 

you very much, probably much more that I will ever admit to myself or 

anyone else.  Goethe once said that the first and last thing required of 

genius is a love of the truth.  No one loves the truth more than you do, 

not even me.  For once, though, try to understand that you don't always 

need to know what has happened.  I'll be back soon."



Scully refolds the paper and puts it back in the envelope as hot tears 

burn her eyes.  She is angry as hell and scared.  She is furious that he 

wants to make decisions for her regarding what she does and does not need 

to know.  Most of all, she is stunned, which is why she is crying.  He 

has never said anything like this before.  They are all things that she 

knows that he feels about her, but seeing them on paper makes them more 

real to her. 



Then her anger comes back.  If he respects me so much, she inwardly 

fumes, why can't he tell me the truth?  Because he doesn't think I can 

handle it, she thinks.  She swipes at the tears on her cheeks angrily.  

Damn you, Mulder, she thinks, damn you and your selfishness!  Scully is 

about to crumple the envelope into a ball when she softens again.  He 

cares about me, she reminds herself. Her tears start again, but this time 

she does not try to stop them.



Mulder has disappeared again, and she has no idea where.  She realizes 

that he doesn't want her to be hurt by the truth of what happened to her. 

 She wonders, also, what he has learned from the document about his 

sister's disappearance and his father's involvement, and about the 

government's role in the cover ups.



Scully suddenly feels guilty for have been so self-centered. There is 

more in the documents, after all, than just her and Duane Barry.  She 

stands up and slips the envelope into her pocket.



Then she closes her eyes and thinks.  "It was a test.  They used the 

branched DNA to..." he had said, and she struggles to think about what 

she has read, the case files he has shown her over time, the studies done 

by psychiatrists of people who claim to have been abducted.  The 

transcripts of the hypnosis sessions.  The words used to seem to be 

complete fabrications to her before, but they are suddenly not.  She 

tries to imagine what the government, the very people she works for, 

would have done to her.  Her eyes blink open.



There is a clicking noise, the turning of a key in the lock. The door 

opens and Mulder steps inside.  He looks weary, and is surprised to see 

her awake.  "Where were you?" she asks, and he crosses the room and 

motions for her to sit down.  They sit across from each other at the 

small round table.  The only thing separating them is the globular 

hanging lamp that is dangling from the ceiling above the table.  



"How are you feeling?" he asks.



"Mulder, answer my question.  Where were you?"



"With the old man.  Reading more of the files."  She suddenly notices the 

weariness again, as if he has aged before her eyes. He is tired looking, 

and sad.  "My father knew about Samantha," he says to her, and her eyes 

widen, for a moment forgetting what is foremost in her mind.  



"Where is she?"  Scully asks, holding her breath.



"She's dead," he answers flatly.  "She died two weeks after she 

disappeared."  He pauses, and takes a deep breath.  "They buried her in 

Washington State.  Up near that facility we were at that they took the 

EBE to.  I was so close to her, Scully, and I didn't even know it."  He 

looks down at the table, his hands resting on it.  He looks up at Scully 

after a long silence.  "They took her there and did tests on her.  Tests 

with cells from a supposed EBE.  She wasn't strong enough to survive."  

Mulder looks back down at the table.  



"Tests?"  Scully asks, her throat dry.  "Tell me," she says, putting one 

of her hands over his.  "Mulder, tell me," she repeats, her voice low.



"Branched DNA, Scully," he says, looking up at her.  "They injected her 

with samples of branched DNA from an EBE.  But the tests didn't work.  

The DNA broke down and turned into waste products.  Poison.  It killed 

her."  



Scully feels sick.  She leans forward in the chair, leaning against the 

edge of the table and grips Mulder's hand tighter.  He knows what she 

wants to know.  He has to tell her.  "Please," she whispers.  



There is a long silence.  Scully stares at Mulder's face so intently that 

her eyes begin to burn.  Her rib cage is stinging from the pressure of 

the table edge.  He will not look at her. "They injected you with the 

same stuff," he says.  "They did tests to see...to see what would 

happen."



"And what did happen?" she asks.  Her heart is pounding.  



"They made you pregnant, Scully," he says.  Scully releases his hands and 

slumps back in her chair, a look of complete and total horror on her 

face.  "There's more."  He pauses, looks at her.  "Someone, somehow, 

decided that they should stop.  That you needed to be back.  So they 

forced a miscarriage.  They knew full well that as the branched DNA broke 

down, that it would turn to poison.  They knew that I wouldn't stop 

looking for you, but maybe as long as you turned up, that I might stop 

looking for answers, even if you did die."



Scully's face is gray, her eyes blank.  Her heart is no longer pounding. 

 It simply feels as if she has stopped breathing, as if she has ceased to 

exist.  She looks up at Mulder.  He is crying silently.



"I know you can't possibly ever dream of forgiving me," he manages to 

say.   "Just like Samantha," he says, "it's all my fault.  I couldn't 

protect her, and I couldn't protect you.  Fuck!" Mulder slams his hands 

down on the table, startling Scully.  He bolts towards the door.  



"Mulder!" Scully yells, and is up and after him in a moment. He is 

already at the door, throwing it back so hard Scully fears that it will 

come right off the hinges.  She has never before seen him this angry.  

She knows that it is the combination of everything.  His father's murder, 

his sister, what happened to her, and overall, his helplessness to do 

anything about all of it.  She chases after him to their rental car that 

is parked outside. "Mulder!" she yells again, but he is ahead of her, 

punching his fists angrily through the back seat window.



"Goddamn it!"  Mulder is yelling furiously, but Scully gets close enough 

to him to see the tears.  She tackles him from behind, her arms around 

his waist.  He stops struggling almost immediately. She holds him like 

that and he sobs.  She knows she should be crying as well.  Pregnant.  

With an alien fetus.  No, she orders herself, stop.  She can only think 

about Mulder.



She leads him back to the hotel room silently, sits him down on the edge 

of the bed.  His hands are bloody.  "Oh God, Mulder," she gasps when she 

sees the numerous cuts, and rushes for the bathroom to get a towel.  He 

has stopped crying when she comes back.  Scully checks his hands 

carefully.  There is a piece of glass imbedded just under the skin of his 

right hand.  He seems not to notice the pain.  With trembling hands, 

Scully removes it and wraps a towel around each of his bloodied hands.  

She sits down beside him, breathes deeply.



The whole thing is too much for both of them.  Because of the silence, 

thoughts come into both of their heads.  Scully allows everything to wash 

over her.  There is no stopping it.  She feels lightheaded, as if the 

room is spinning.  Mulder sees her swaying and knows that she needs his 

support, not his emotional breakdown. He helps her to lie down.  "It's 

OK," he says.  "Take it easy."



"A baby," she murmurs, thinking.  A little boy, maybe, that she could 

have named after her father.  Then she remembers.  A baby, a fetus made 

up of alien cells, just like the one she pulled from the canister during 

the whole Purity Control fiasco.  "Oh, God!" she cries, and squeezes her 

eyes shut.  Mulder holds her hand, looks at her, then closes his own 

eyes.  There is nothing he can do for her now.  She wrenches her hand 

away from him and bolts for the bathroom.  He can hear her behind the 

closed door, retching.  He stays where he is on the edge of the bed, his 

head in his hands miserably.  He can do nothing to take away what she 

feels, and will likely feel, for the rest of her life.  He looks at his 

hands.  He has removed the towels, and the cuts are raw and aching.



After a few more minutes, Scully returns from the bathroom. Her cheeks 

are moist, but whether it's from washing her face or crying he can't 

tell.  She walks the length of the room slowly, calmly, then stops to 

turn around and face him.  "What do we do now?" she asks.



"I don't know."



"I don't even know if I still have a job," Scully says, and Mulder nods.



"Me neither," he answers, but at that moment, he hopes that he doesn't.  

As far as he is concerned, he never wants to step into the Bureau 

building again.  Not after everything he has learned.  He can never 

respect the governemnt again.



Mulder gets up and walks over to her silently, and hugs her. She clings 

to him like a child, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her 

face in his chest.  He strokes her hair and they are both silent.  He 

knows that she is feeling alone, and scared, and in need of comfort.  

Finally he releases her and looks down at her face.  She gets up on her 

toes, just for a moment, and kisses him lightly on the lips.  



"Dana," he whispers, "what are you doing?"



"I don't know," she confesses, her head down.



Without saying another word, he leans down and catches her chin with his 

fingers, tipping her face up, kissing her.  She lets him.  Her lets his 

lips trail over hers slowly, carefully.  He knows exactly what she is 

dealing with, and he doesn't want to overwhelm or frighten her.  But he 

can feel her lips responding, kissing him back.  It is an exercise in 

discipline.  He holds back from kissing her harder, for both of their 

sakes.  He wants to hold her closer, run his cut hands though her hair, 

but he doesn't. This is Scully, he reminds himself, my partner, by best 

friend. He knows that he has been attracted to her in the past, but the 

job always distracted him from her, or from any woman, for that matter. 

But then again, he thinks, Dana Scully has gotten closer to me that any 

other woman in my life.



He continues to kiss her.  She moves her arms up around his neck, kissing 

him harder, pulling him closer to her.  The kiss is gaining passion.  

"Scully," he whispers onto her lips, "be careful."



She stops kissing him, breathless, disappointed.  "Why?" she asks.



"Scully, this is a mistake.  I don't want to hurt you."  He closes his 

eyes briefly and thinks of all she has learned in the past few hours.  He 

opens his eyes again.  She is staring at him.



"I know," she says.  "I'm sorry, Mulder."



"No, don't apologize.  We can just act as if it didn't happen."  He knows 

as he says these words that he is hurting her, that he is lying to her, 

and to himself.  He has never dreamed that he would ever kiss her.  But 

now that he has, he can't stop thinking about it.



She turns from him, her fingertips touching her lips, as if he did 

something to them.  Her heartbeat is slowly returning to normal and her 

breathing is calming down.  She doesn't have to close her eyes to relive 

how it felt to have him kiss her.  "I'm tired," she says.



"Why don't you lie down and sleep for a while?"



"What about you?" she asks, turning back around.



"I'll take the other side of the bed," he suggests.  "It's big enough."



Scully doesn't take long to agree with him.  She is exhausted. She gets 

comfortable on her side, watching Mulder though half-closed eyes on his 

back, arms crossed and folded under his head. She doesn't watch him long. 

 Her eyelids get heavy within minutes and she falls asleep.



CONTINUED IN PART 3





-- 

"Why do you you always get to drive?

 Because you're the guy?  Because

 you're the big macho man?"

"No, I was just never sure your

 little feet could reach the pedals."

-Mulder and Scully, The X-Files

************************************

"You're a good friend."

"You too, sweetie, you're the best."

-Thelma and Louise

*************************************

"Dick, permission to bitch."

-Sally, 3rd Rock from the Sun

*************************************

"Where I lay my trust in others,

 where it lies the ground is thin."

-Sarah McLachlan





TRUTHSEEKERS (3/4)

by Leyla Harrison





Disclaimers in part one.



Scully awakens with a start.  She looks next to her; Mulder is sleeping

soundly.  She gets up and goes over to the table, looking over the

decoded files briefly, then putting them aside. She looks over at Mulder

again and watches him sleep with a small sense of envy.  She is just as

tired as she was before she fell asleep, and had not slept well.  Strange

dreams had filled her head.  She wants to feel some sense of comfort,

anything.  On impulse she gets up from the table and crosses the room,

moving the bedside phone from the nightstand back over to the table.  She

lifts the receiver and dials a number, her eyes never leaving Mulder's

sleeping form.



The phone rings four times before it is answered by a weary female voice.

 "Hello?"



"Mom?" Scully speaks softly, not wanting to wake Mulder.



"Dana, is that you?" he mother asks, sounding scared.  "Where are you,

Dana?  What's going on?  Are you all right?"



At the sound of her mother's voice, Scully lowers her head and feels as

if she is going to cry again.  "I'm fine," she lies, holding back her

tears.



"Dana, the FBI was here.  They're looking for you and Fox. Is he with

you?"



Scully bites her lip.  Should she trust her mother?  She closed her eyes

briefly and shakes her head angrily that she would even winder about

something like that.  "Yes, he is."



"Dana, they want to talk to you, to both of you.  They want to know where

you are."  Scully suddenly notices the tension in her mother's voice.

And then, a click on the line, and a rustling sound in the background.

It happens so quickly that Scully almost doesn't catch it.  "Dana, are

you sure you're all right?"



"Yes," Scully answers, her mind racing.



"Dana, please be careful.  You and Mulder be careful," Margaret Scully

says firmly and very deliberately to her daughter.  "I love you, Dana."



Scully abruptly hangs up the phone.  She isn't sure is she was on the

phone long enough for the call to have been traced.  She crosses the room

and shakes Mulder's shoulder.  "Mulder, wake up."



He comes to life quickly, his eyes snapping open.  "What's wrong?"



"We have to get out of here.  The Bureau is looking for us."



"Skinner, or Cancer Man?" he asks.



"I don't know."



"Then how do you know--"



"I called my mother," she answers sheepishly.  "The call was being

traced.  She was trying to warn me."



"How do you know?"



"Something she said," Scully says impatiently.  "Mulder, come on, we need

to get going."



"Scully, where are we going to go?  Think about this for a minute.

Skinner's probably pissed that you didn't show for your meeting.  But

there's a lot more at stake in my case."



Scully stares at him.  "What are you suggesting?"



"Scully, you should go back to Washington.  They're only interested in

where you are so that can find me.  You'll get a slap on the wrist from

Skinner and that will be the end of it."



"And what about you?"



"I'm going to stay here and find out more about those bodies in the

boxcar.  About my sister's death.  And my father's murder."



"By yourself."



"Yes, Scully."



        

"You can't be serious, Mulder."



"Scully, the longer you are gone, the worse you are making it for

yourself.  If you go back now, the repercussions probably won't be as

bad."



"I am not leaving here without you," she says softly, but her tone is

firm.  "If you stay, you're as good as dead.  You know that."



"I probably already am," he says.



"What do you mean?" she asks, almost afraid of what his response will be.



"Think about it, Scully.  All the roads I have been on, looking for

answers, the truth...it all eventually would have led to this anyhow.  I

would have never gotten to know everything." He lowers his head and then

after another moment lies back down on the bed and closes his eyes.  "You

should get back to Washington as soon as possible."



Scully is angry.  "How can you give up so easily?" she asks him.



Mulder opens his eyes again.  "I'm not giving up, Scully.  I'm going to

try as hard as I can to find out what I need to know.  But after that,

there's nothing I can do.  They're probably going to kill me anyway."



"I'm not leaving you here alone," she repeats.  "I don't care about the

Bureau."



"Yes, you do," he says, sitting up.  "You care about your job. You took a

big risk coming out here when you did.  But Skinner won't get rid of you.

 He likes you."  Mulder gets up and puts on his shoes.  "Come on.  We're

going to the airport.  Don't argue with me on this, Scully."



Scully's mouth remains open a bit.  She is stunned by his about face

attitude.  Nevertheless, she follows him out to the car and they make the

drive to the airport, stopping for gas and directions.  At the airport,

Mulder buys her a ticket for the first available flight to Washington.

The flight has a connection in St. Louis but doesn't leave for a few

hours.  He walks her to the gate and they sit down.  "Scully--"



"No, I don't want to hear it," she says, still hurt and angry. "I'm going

to get on the plane.  You don't have to sit here and make sure I don't

change my mind."



"I just want you to be safe.  I have to do this for me.  You already

found out what you need to know," he reminds her gently.



She looks at him, her eyes tired and sad, telling him that the reminder

is unnecessary.  She looks at her lap.  "When will I see you again?"



"I don't know," he answers truthfully.  He really doesn't want to be

apart from her, not now.  He needs her, needs her strength. But he knows

that it is safer for her to go.



Mulder and Scully both know that this may well be the last time they see

each other, and they are both silent for the three hours that they wait

for the flight to board.  Finally, the boarding announcement is made.

Scully has dozed off, leaning her head against Mulder's shoulder.  Scully

hears the boarding call and wakes up.  Mulder gets up, watching her out

of the corner of his eyes.  Watching her stand up, quickly giving herself

the once-over.  She's beautiful, he realizes, stunned.  He has always

known that she has been attractive to him, but he has never fully

realized just how beautiful she is.  She looks up at him. "Mulder," she

says, "please.  Come back to Washington with me."



"I can't," he answers.  He wishes he could.  But he still has the

obligation to find the truth, at whatever cost.  He has to stay.  "You'll

be OK," he tells her, seeing the look on her face. He knows that look.

She is going to cry.  Please, Scully, he thinks, don't.  It will make it

impossible for me to let you go.



Mulder hugs her tightly.  It is the same kind of hug they shared at the

boxcar.  He can feel her body trembling in his arms. He is sure that she

is crying now, and he hates himself for putting her though this.  He

places his hand on the back of her head, holding her closer.  He needs to

remember this.



When Mulder releases her she decides to kiss him again, and so she does,

gently.  It stirs something in him that he cannot describe.  She pulls

away and touches his face with her hand. "Please be careful," she says.

She is trying to tell him everything else she is feeling with her eyes,

that he should call her or come back to Washington if he needs her.

Mulder nods his head slightly.  Somehow, he understands.  He knows.



Scully straightens herself up and heads for the jetway, ticket in hand.

"Bye," he calls, the word choking his throat.  She doesn't turn around.



As soon as she is on the plane, Mulder knows he should leave, but he

can't.  He stands with his face pressed against the glass of the window,

watching the plane until it backs up and heads for the runway.  He can

see it speed down the runway and takeoff.  I'm sorry, Scully, he thinks

regretfully, and turns to leave the airport.



On the plane, Scully looks out the window, ignoring the flight attendents

as they review emergency procedures.  I can't let him do this, she is

thinking.  She reaches for her cellular and starts to dial.



"I'm sorry, but the use of cellular phones is prohibited until fifteen

minutes after take off," a flight attendant says, appearing suddenly at

her side.



Annoyed, Scully flashes her badge at the young woman.  "Federal

government," she says with out pausing as she dials the number.  The

flight attendant backs away.  Scully listens as the phone rings, then as

a recording comes on.  "We're sorry, the number you are calling is

temporarily out of service," the mechanical voice says.  Scully presses

the end button.  Mulder's phone could have been damaged in the fire at

the boxcar, she thinks.  Or he could have turned it off.  But he's never

turned his cellular off, she thinks.



But things are not the same anymore, she reminds herself, and realizes

that not only doesn't he want her help, the interruption of service on

his cellular could possibly mean that he doesn't want her interference,

either.  Scully sighs heavily, and presses the power button on her phone.

 It is the first time she has ever turned her phone off since she started

working on the X-Files.  She leans back in her seat and rests her head on

the seat back as she watches the takeoff.  Her eyes are blank.



CONTINUED IN PART 4





--

"Why do you you always get to drive?

 Because you're the guy?  Because

 you're the big macho man?"

"No, I was just never sure your

 little feet could reach the pedals."

-Mulder and Scully, The X-Files

************************************

"You're a good friend."

"You too, sweetie, you're the best."

-Thelma and Louise

*************************************

"Dick, permission to bitch."

-Sally, 3rd Rock from the Sun

*************************************

"Where I lay my trust in others,

 where it lies the ground is thin."

-Sarah McLachlan









TRUTHSEEKERS (4/4)

by Leyla Harrison





Disclaimers in part one.



It is the same dream Scully has had since she returned home from New 

Mexico.  In it, she is in her house, sitting in bed, reading.  She is 

waiting for Mulder to call.  She knows that he will, even though it has 

been so long.  She is calm, knowing that he is all right and that she 

will be able to see him.



A crack of noise from outside startles her.  A gunshot?  No, she thinks, 

a car backfiring.  She shakes her head a bit and goes back to her 

reading.  Suddenly, the lights go out in the apartment. Scared, Scully 

crawls under the blanket, afraid to move.  It is them.  They have 

returned to take her again, to test her.



She can hear a pounding on her front door.  No, she thinks, go away.  

Leave me alone. 



Scully opens her eyes.  The dream it over and the noise is real.  She 

gets out of bed and staggers through the living room. The pounding on her 

front door is still intermittent.  Please, God, she thinks, let it be 

him.  She cannot imagine who else it would be.  She gets to the door and 

hesitates.  "Who is it?" she asks cautiously.



"Scully, it's me," he answers back and she breathes a sigh of relief.  It 

has been five weeks since she has seen or heard from him, and knowing 

that he is alive and on the other side of her door makes her weak with 

happiness.  She removes the chain and unlocks the door, flinging it open. 

 

"Mulder, I--" she manages to get out before she sees him.  He is slumped 

against the doorframe, his eyes half closed.  He is wearing a pair of 

jeans and a white shirt, a leather jacket, but there is blood, fresh 

blood, all over the front of the shirt.  His hand is clutching his chest. 

 "Mulder!" she gasps, pulling him inside, onto the couch.  She finds the 

cordless and calls the paramedics.  Then back to him on the couch.  He is 

in and out, eyes flickering.  



"Tried to get a hold of you sooner..." he whispers loudly, but doesn't 

finish.



"Who did this?" she asks him.  "Mulder, who shot you?"  



He doesn't answer.  Instead, he grabs for her hand and squeezes it 

tightly, so tightly that she winces.  "Don't stop, Scully.  Don't stop 

looking for the truth."



"Mulder, damn it--"



"Please."



She strokes his face gently.  Don't let him die, she prays. Where are the 

fucking paramedics?  "Mulder, I've been trying everything to find you.  

Skinner, the Lone Gunmen, your mother..."



"Only been in Washington for two days," he gets out.



Scully grabs the first thing she can get her hands on to put pressure on 

the bullet wound in his chest.  It is a small throw pillow from the 

couch.  She can see him shivering.  She covers him with a blanket as best 

she can.



"Tried to call you on your cellular and here...got no answer."



"Why didn't you leave a message?" she asks, cursing herself for the times 

she forgot her cellular in the car during the last five weeks, for the 

times she shut it off because she was sick of answering calls from the 

Bureau higher-ups, checking on her every five minutes.



"Didn't know if the Bureau was looking for me, too.  I thought the lines 

would be traced."



"Oh, Mulder," she says.  She doesn't want to tell him the truth, not now. 

 Not that Skinner had written his dismissal with no possibility for 

reinstatement from the Bureau less than a week after her return.  That 

when she had returned, Skinner had grilled her about Mulder's wherabouts. 

 She told him the truth, that Mulder was somewhere in New Mexico the last 

time she saw him.  Skinner thought she was lying and she had been 

suspended, only returning to work a week before.  Skinner had finally 

decided to believe her and reinstate her to her previous status.  She had 

been staying with her mother for two weeks, then back to her place 

because she was starting to worry more and more about not hearing from 

him.  



That was when Scully had started trying to track him down, even though 

Skinner had expressly forbidden it.  A few days later, she had heard on 

the news about the shooting death of an unidentified man.  The picture of 

him stunned her.  It was Mulder's mystery contact, Mr. X.  When she 

inquired about the investigation, she learned that the body was likely 

not going to be identified and the case was closed.  She didn't want to 

tell him that the X-Files had been officially closed until further 

notice, probably permanently.



"Scully," he whispers, "it hurts."



"I know," she says.  Damn it, where are they?  She looks for the phone, 

to call again, but he senses it and stops her.  



"No," he says.  



"Mulder, please."



"Scully, don't let the X-Files get buried again."



He must have read her mind.  He always could, she thinks.  "Mulder, 

you're going to be fine."



"Everything...Samantha...I don't want it to have been for nothing.  It 

wasn't a waste of time."



She nods her head.  "Of course it wasn't.  You didn't know she was dead, 

Mulder."



"Went to where her body was buried."  He closes his eyes, squeezes them 

tightly shut.  It must have been terrible, she thinks.  "It was really 

her," he says, not explaining how he knew that.  She can only imagine the 

exhumation, Mulder having to look at her small body, decayed and rotted. 

 He opens his eyes after a few moments.  "I came here to talk to you.  

Someone got me out on the street, someone must have been waiting for me 

to get back to Washington."



Scully puts her fingertips to his wrist and takes his pulse. Weak, 

getting weaker.  She thinks she can hear the sirens of the ambulance, but 

they sound so far away.  Please, she thinks, please hurry.



"Do you know who it was?" she asks.  He shakes his head.  He is trembling 

harderm now, his teeth chattering.



"Cold.  I'm cold."



"Oh, Mulder, I know," she says, starting to panic.  There is no telling 

how much blood he has lost.  He is obviously in shock. "Please, Mulder, 

hang on.  The paramedics are almost here."



"Don't forget what I said.  The X-Files.  Don't let everything I 

did...everything I believed in...be for nothing."



Tears fill Scully's eyes, but she keeps them from falling. "I won't," she 

promises.  I swear to you, Mulder, she vows inwardly, I won't forget.  



He looks at her again, trying to focus his eyes.  The shaking has slowed 

down.  She is still holding his hand.  "Everything you did for me, and I 

never really noticed..." he trails off.



"Noticed what?" she asks.



"That you are a truly beautiful human being, Scully," he says, and she 

knows what he means.  It is the most deeply flattering compliment she has 

ever received.



She closes her eyes briefly.  She doesn't want to lose him. He is her 

best friend.  Her throat is tight and her chest feels hollow and empty 

already.  She knows that they will not be able to save him.  But she 

doesn't want to give up.  "Hold on, Mulder."



Scully looks down at him again.  She squeezes his hand as he struggles to 

keep his eyes open.  "I'm trying..." he whispers. His eyes close and his 

fingers have lost their grip on her hand. She tries for a pulse again.  

There is none.



Scully stares at his body for a few moments.  The wailing of the 

ambulance is getting closer, but she doesn't even hear it.  She is 

crying.  Her one link, the one person she connected with more than anyone 

else is gone, and she feels it in every part of herself.





*****





WASHINGTON, D.C.

AUGUST, 1995



Special Agent Dana Scully opens the door to the basement office and takes 

a deep breath.  Her first trip to the old office since before Mulder's 

death and since they were shut down.  She expects for there to be ghosts, 

but not the kind Mulder used to hunt.  Just memories, of him, of the work 

they did together.  It was a fight to get the X-Files reopened.   In a 

meeting, the Section Chiefs had wanted Scully dismissed without a chance 

of reinstatement, as Mulder had been.  But Skinner had gone to bat for 

her.  She believed that he was doing it not just for her, but for Mulder, 

as well.  She thought that maybe he did have a heart, somewhere, after 

all.



Then she had to get the X-Files reopened.  Teaching at the Academy for 

the month until now was not something that made her happy anymore. She 

had known that from the first time she and Mulder had been reassigned, 

but this time the feeling of dissatisfaction was worse. She wanted to 

keep her promise to Mulder.  She wanted the X-Files back, even if she had 

to work on them alone.  That was what made her happy.  And finally, 

Skinner had relented.  He made her vow that everything would be by the 

book.  She sensed that he had a feeling that she was becoming more like 

Mulder than either of them had ever dreamed she would.



The office is musty.  She wonders what it must have been like when the 

X-Files were reopened while she was gone.  Mulder down there alone, 

thinking she was dead.  And now the tables are turned. The funeral had 

been hard for her.  Her mother and sister had come, and Mulder's mother 

and father were there as well.  Skinner showed, and a few other Bureau 

agents.  A few Congressmen.  A forgettable moment for those who didn't 

care about Fox Mulder.



At the end of the ceremony, Scully had stood alone, dropping the single 

white rose onto the top of the coffin, and she was the only one there 

with dry eyes.  She had cried enough the night that he died.  



She heads for his desk, sits down in his chair.  She can still remember 

what he looked like sitting in this chair.  She can still remember 

everything.  She gets up and begins to pull sheets of plastic off of the 

desk, the filing cabinets.  Everything has been rifled through, but seems 

to be otherwise intact.  There is even a bag of stale sunflower seeds in 

the top drawer.  Scully looks around the office.  She knows that she is 

not the same anymore. There is nothing to smile about, no reason to 

laugh.  There are memories everywhere in the office.  She has a lot to 

think about.



Scully leans over the edge of the desk and flips Mulder's Beach Girls 

calendar to the correct month.  Then she looks around thoughtfully.  She 

has a lot of work to do in the office before she can get to the real work 

outside.







WASHINGTON, D.C.

DECEMBER, 1995



An attractive young woman in a tailored suit walks down the long hallway 

to the end, her briefcase in her hand.  The door in front of her is 

closed all but a crack.  She hesitates, then knocks.  There is no answer, 

but she pushes the door open and walks in anyway.  Inside, a auburn 

haired woman is sitting at the desk, bent over a photograph.  She is 

analyzing it intently with a magnifier.



"Agent Scully?" the young woman asks.  Scully looks up from her work.  

"I've been assigned to work with you."



"Yes, of course.  I was expecting you.  Please, sit down."  Scully points 

at the unoccupied desk.



"It must be nice for you to be doing this again," the young agent says, 

looking around the office.  A poster is tacked up on one wall.  It says 

in capital letters, I WANT TO BELIEVE.  There are photos of UFO's tacked 

up around it.  "I thought I had heard back at the Academy that the 

X-Files had been shut down."



"They were reopened,"  Scully says, her answers short and to the point.  

She isn't used to the idea of sharing her work with someone else yet.  "I 

should probably ask you a few questions before we get started.  What do 

you know about the X-Files?"



The agent thinks.  "They have to do with unexplainable phenomena.  You 

have been investigating them for a few years, and 'Spooky' Mulder used to 

be your partner, until he was killed."



Scully fixes her with a hard stare.  No one has dared to speak Mulder's 

name in her presence since after his funeral.  She is still conducting 

her own private investigation into his death.  "You're just out of the 

Academy, aren't you?" Scully finally asks after a silence.  The young 

agent nods.  Scully wonders if she was sent down here to spy, just as 

Scully was back in 1992 when she first was assigned to the X-Files.  

There is no way of knowing if she can be trusted.  If only there was a 

sign, she thinks.  Mulder, what would you do?  Would you trust her?



"Agent Scully?  Are you OK?" the agent asks.  Scully wasn't listening.  

She realizes that there is no way of knowing.  Mulder is dead.  He can't 

help her anymore.  She now fully understands what Deep Throat had said to 

her.  Trust no one.  "Agent Scully?" the agent repeats. 

 

"Yes, I'm sorry.  I don't think I got your name."



"No, I'm sorry.  I forgot to introduce myself.  I'm Samantha. Samantha 

Parker."  



Scully smiles at her.  Trust no one, she thinks.  That's what I call a 

sign, Mulder.  *I changed it to trust everyone - didn't I tell you?*  She 

turns her attention back to the young agent in front of her, who is 

looking at Scully with concern.  "Let me ask you something, Parker.  Do 

you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"



END



-- 

"Why do you you always get to drive?

 Because you're the guy?  Because

 you're the big macho man?"

"No, I was just never sure your

 little feet could reach the pedals."

-Mulder and Scully, The X-Files

************************************

"You're a good friend."

"You too, sweetie, you're the best."

-Thelma and Louise

*************************************

"Dick, permission to bitch."

-Sally, 3rd Rock from the Sun

*************************************

"Where I lay my trust in others,

 where it lies the ground is thin."

-Sarah McLachlan