TITLE: FOX HUNT 
AUTHOR: Ewa 
E-mail:  ewa@whatewa.com 
RATING:  PG 
CATEGORY:  X/F 
SPOILER:  Very slight for THEEF S7 action takes place 
after the events of this episode. 
KEYWORDS: M/S A, Fr/LGM/Sk

THANKS :A big thank you to Bone Tree, who did a wonderful job of 
knocking the piece into shape, under very trying conditions. To Kim 
1013, without who's beta skills, this would not be as good as it is. 
Thanks Guys! 

SUMMARY: Mulder doesn't want to admit it, but he's being stalked.

DISCLAIMER: Any characters you recognize belong to Mr. Carter & Co. 
Rule of thumb, if you recognize them, there's a good chance they 
aren't mine. Doesn't stop me messing with them though, purely for the 
fun of it, monetary gain has never been an issue here.

ARCHIVES: You mean, I don't have to pay? Let me know where it's gone 
please! 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Bone Tree's wonderful beta, I decided to 
rewrite a good deal of this. Although the sequence of events remains 
more or less the same, I'd like to think that this version has more 
depth.

13.05.01 Feedback please!

ewa@whatewa.com

Visit me and read my other x-phile stories at http://www.whatewa.com

FOX HUNT


SCULLY'S APARTMENT 
SATURDAY 
8:15 AM

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, Scully brushed her auburn 
hair  considering all her options. A Saturday, all to herself. What to 
do? So many possibilities.  

She felt a little like a child in a candy store who'd been told to 
choose  whatever she liked. The possibilities were endless. That was 
the problem,  with so much choice, she couldn't decide. 

She looked into the mirror, into her own blue eyes- and shuddered. 
Seeing their reflection so clearly reminded of how much she had almost 
lost, How close she'd been to losing even more than her sight. Her 
blindness, albeit for a short time, because of Peattie had done to her 
was still the stuff her nightmares were made of. She had felt so 
afraid, so vulnerable. She was a person who *needed* to be in control 
of her life. Three weeks...surely she should be getting over it by 
now.

Her gloomy train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the phone 
ringing in her living room. Was it Mulder with some new lead that 
would undoubtedly ruin her weekend? Quickly she moved to pick up 
before the answering machine kicked in.

"Is Mulder there?" asked a familiar voice.

"Frohike." She pinched the bridge of her nose.  Great. "What do you 
mean? Why do you think Mulder would be here?" 

"Umm. Sorry Scully. It's just...I-I'm not quite sure how to say this."

"What is it with you? Is it just a guy thing that you can't get to the 
point? If this is a social call...." Scully's irritation with Mulder's 
little friend had reached her tolerance level. How dare Mulder and his 
cohorts ruin her weekend! Couldn't she have *one* day away from all 
this? 

"It's not a social call, it's business. I'd really appreciate being 
able to talk to you in person. It's, em...it's pretty delicate. I know 
I don't have the right to intrude on your weekend, but I need to see 
you as soon as possible."

The prickling on her skin intensified, her hair on her neck  standing 
on end. The feeling of foreboding grew with every passing moment. She 
tried to make a joke of it, knowing how unjustified the comment was 
even as she said it. "Why, Frohike, what's going on? Is this some new 
form of perverted come on, you and Mulder haven't been laying bets 
again have you?" 

"You wound me agent Scully. I guess there's no way to say it but to 
say it.  Mulder is in trouble."

She felt her ears pricking up, the whole of her body coming to 
attention. "What do you mean, *in trouble*?" 

"I can't say more over the phone, that's why I need you to come over." 

"Just one question Frohike. Does Mulder know you're doing this?" 

"Errm...." 

"I thought not." 

"Please Scully, this is serious..."  

There was knocking on her door. 

"Look, Frohike I've got someone here. I'll get back to you later. 

She ended the call and went over to the spy hole to see who it was. 
She saw the distorted face of her landlord. What did *he* want? Scully 
was puzzled as she opened the door to him.   

"Ms. Scully? Sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but I thought I should 
give  you fair warning. I've been trying to catch you for the last few 
days." 

"Why? What's the matter?" 

"It's the tenants next door to you, or should I say the ex-tenants. I 
don't  know what they did to their bathroom, but It now needs complete 
remodeling.  I've got the workmen coming. What I'm trying to say, is 
that there's going to be a lot of noise, water will have to be cut off 
for some time and can't the power supply might be a little erratic 
from time to time. As they're in there I may as well get some extra 
power points put in.

I realize it's a lot to ask at such short notice, but if you've got 
someplace else to stay for the weekend it might be advisable. They're 
planning to work quite late into the night. It's a big job and I need 
it finished ASAP, you understand..." 

The rest of what he was saying was drowned out by hammering and the 
whine of an electric saw. 

Did she really have an option on this? Frohike's call that had her 
rattled.  She would go over there see what the hell it was he wanted 
and then pack a bag and get over to her mom's. So much for a quiet 
weekend. 

TAKOMA PARK DC 
9:45 AM 

She arrived at the Lone Gunmen's quasi fortress just over an hour 
later. She heard the bolts being opened and finally Frohike himself 
appeared At the semi-open door. He looked pleased to see her. 

Hopefully, he could see she was not in the best of moods. 

"About time too." Scully wanted him to cut to the chase so that she 
could reassure him and get on with her free day. "Don't you think this 
all a little dramatic Melvin? If this is one of your stupid pranks, 
you'll be very, but I mean *very* sorry." 

There was a slight smile playing on her lips. Melvin Frohike knew her 
well enough to know not to push his luck. 

Placing his hand on her elbow, he escorted her in through the door and 
cut to the chase. "He's been getting letters, emails, incoherent 
things really, promising dire consequences unless-" Frohike broke off 
the sentence, hesitating. "Listen, he'd kill me if he knew I was 
telling you, but he absolutely refuses to go to the police, won't take 
it seriously at all." Frohike blew out a  breath of exasperation. 
"Well, *you* know Mulder."

Scully could see he was for real with this. He'd been genuinely 
worrying about what to do with the information. 

"I checked out some of the letters and emails, and had come up with 
absolutely zilch, and that was precisely what's bothering me." 

He went over to a locked drawer and, snapping on latex he removed a 
large envelope.

"How many?" She asked. Gradually her feelings of irritation gave way 
to concern. 

"Three. The first one came ten days ago, the second three days later 
and the last one yesterday." Scully also took a pair of thin rubber 
gloves from her purse and pulled then on before reaching for the 
letters. 

"Why have you got them?" 

"He showed them to me, and then he was going to throw them out, just 
ignore  them. Said it was probably some nut with time on their hands." 

"And you thought they were important?" 

Scully read all three letters. The wording was almost identical in 
each of them. Each contained the message that it was payback time. 
Each threatened Mulder with terminal force if he went to the police. 

"So, you don't think these are some sort of a prank? Frohike shook his 
head.

"I don't understand? He can't go to the police with these letters or 
they'll kill him. Why?  payback for what? Have they made other 
demands?" 

"That's the point, they haven't said as yet. It may well be some nut, 
but  from past experience, those are the most dangerous"  

"We're not even investigating anything worth a damn at the moment," 
Scully  mused. 

She looked back at the letters she'd spread out on the desk. There was 
no  hope for a telltale broken key being struck over and over again. 
The day of  the typewriter was long since gone. Technology made life a 
lot tougher.  Printed n a laser printer, the letters were all 
unremarkable and could have  come from any one of a million printers. 
She sighed as she replaced each  letter in it's envelope. 

"So, who's he pissed off recently?"  

"You really wanna know? Do you have that much time to spare?" Scully 
added  with a humorless laugh. 

"Well, It isn't his landlord. I checked that one out, he doesn't even 
own a  computer." 

"Good work. Frohike. That only leaves about another thousand or so to 
go." She couldn't help the faint note of sarcasm creeping into her 
tone. 

"Please, Scully, I'm really worried about Mulder, he's reckless when 
it comes to his own safety. He's not taking this seriously." His words 
surprised her but they also gave her a glowing feeling inside. It was 
good Mulder had someone else to worry about him other than herself.  

Frohike looked at her seriously. "So, your gonna watch his back for 
him?" 

Scully was in two minds. What made her really angry was that someone 
like Frohike could doubt the fact that she'd always look out for her 
partner, no matter what.  

"Do I have a choice?" 

"So you'll do it?" 

"Yeah, yeah." She walked towards the door.

"Be careful." He added as she closed the door behind her. 

SCULLY'S APARTMENT BUILDING 
11:20 AM 

No matter how much she tried to deny it, her stomach turned over in  
anticipation as she drove back home. She should have her head examined 
for  even thinking about moving into Mulder's apartment, much less 
actually  planning how to accomplish it. So why in heaven's name was 
she? 

Because if this was on the level then Mulder needed her, she thought. 

Having successfully parked outside her building, she shut the car door 
behind her. She knew very well he wouldn't go to the police. It wasn't 
so much the threats. Her partner just had a natural distrust of 
official agencies. It seemed to come with the territory. What worried 
her was his propensity for doing something stupid and getting himself 
hurt.  

Besides, if anyone was going to shoot Fox Mulder, it was going to be 
her.  She'd earned the right. In spades. The thought made her smile. 

She turned towards the building, trying to think how she was going to 
 persuade Mulder to let her stay with him, *without* him getting the 
wrong ideas. She hated being less than honest with him, but she could 
imagine his reaction if she told him the whole truth. Mind you she 
thought Hadn't Mr. Kowalski provided her with an excuse? She didn't 
*have* to tell Mulder she was at his apartment more for his sake than 
her own.  

Judging by the timing of the previous letters, if the psycho stalking 
Mulder ran true to form they should hear from him on Monday. By that 
time they could have got a handle on all this. 

She went in to pack a bag. She could hear the noise from the apartment 
next-door. She picked up the phone to tell him her predicament.

"Umm, Mulder, it's me."

"Hey, speak up Scully, I can hardly hear you. You got workmen in or 
something?"

"I need to ask a favor" She turned away from the party wall I an 
effort to cut out some of the noise.

"Is that better?"

"A little. You were saying, Scully?"

"I need a favor."

"For you Scully, anything."

"You might not be saying that, once you've heard what it is I need," 
she all but shouted over the racket.

"Speak up Scully."

"I don't have workmen in, but next door do. I need a place to stay for 
a few days."

She told him of the events of the morning, missing out the phone call 
and her visit to the Gunmen. 

The sound effects must have added some credibility to her request for 
'asylum'. Mulder was very sympathetic, saying she was welcome to stay 
over as long as was necessary. Scully was relieve at how easily he'd 
agreed. She'd been expecting to have to work a little harder at 
persuading him, but then she'd never really expected him to refuse 
her. 

Twenty minutes later, she was in her car, guiding it into the stream 
of traffic, heading for her partner's home.



He snapped to attention the moment he saw her car pulling out across 
the  street. It had taken her long enough. 

Narrowing his dark eyes in concentration, he slid down the worn seat 
of his  nondescript car. He didn't want her seeing him. Not that she 
was looking for him, not yet. 

Smiling he turned the key in the ignition, the engine fired smoothly 
at the  first attempt. It might look like a heap of junk on the 
outside, but things  should never be judged by appearances. 

He pulled out smoothly following her at a discreet distance. It had 
started  to rain again. The drizzle would help to shield him. 

A slow mournful tune came from the tape deck. A funeral dirge. How 
fitting,  he thought. 

Excitement pumped through his veins. Gently he put his foot on the 
gas. It  was beginning.

MULDER'S APARTMENT 
12:20 PM

Everything still smelled wet from the morning rain, but as she came 
the entered Mulder's building, the sun was finally trying to come out.

She smiled as Mulder opened the door to her.

"Hi, Mulder. Since when have you started taking shower's with your 
clothes  on?" 

"Yeah, very funny. I've just this minute got in from a run. It wasn't 
raining when I set out. Look Scully, make yourself useful while I go 
clean up. Order in a pizza, it must be your turn. All this exercise 
has made me ravenous." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a wolfish 
expression on his face. 

She couldn't help herself, she felt her eyes rolling upwards as a 
smile crept across her face. "Go, Mulder, get in that shower, and make 
it a cold one.

She phoned out and ordered a 'Mulder special'. 

Mulder was still in the shower some ten minutes later, when there was 
a knock on the door. 

"I swear he does that just to get out of paying," Scully muttered to 
herself as she went to open the door. 

A man wearing the telephone company uniform stood outside. "Sorry to 
bother  you on a Saturday. We've had reports of faults in this 
building. We're  checking all the apartments. Had to leave it till 
Saturday to try and get all the people who are out at work. We're 
trying to cause minimum disruption. This won't take more than a few 
moments." He flashed his ID at her. 

"Mulder! Mulder?" He obviously couldn't hear her over the noise of the 
shower and his own slightly off key singing. 

"Umm, you'd better come in." She invited the engineer in. "The phone 
is just over there on the desk," she said escorting him across 
Mulder's living room towards the cluttered table by the window. She 
moved an untidy stack of papers and files out of the engineer's way. 

"I'll leave you to get on with it," she added. 

She placed the jumbled pile on the coffee table and turned to go to 
the kitchen 

Scully sighed as she moved around Mulder's very basic kitchen putting 
some plates to warm. She pulled a couple of iced teas out of the 
fridge. She hoped this guy wouldn't be too long. 

There was something vaguely familiar about the repairman, nothing she 
could quite put he finger on, something about the set of his 
shoulders. 

"There," the repairman announced as he come towards the kitchen; "that 
should put you back in business." 

He made her jump. She hadn't heard him come up beside her, holding out 
a work order for her to sign. Some special agent she was, Scully 
chided herself as she took the clipboard from him. 

The was the vaguest of scowls on the man's face as he left. Perhaps he 
expected a tip, Scully thought. 

She couldn't get it out of he head that she'd seen him before. Maybe 
he  resembled someone on television or just someone she'd seen 
somewhere. She had no idea why there was this feeling of uneasiness 
when she'd looked at the man. 

Mulder chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom. "Food here yet?" 

"No, but you've had a visit from the telephone company." 

"Oh, okay, fine." Mulder seemed a little distracted. 

"Mulder, is everything all right"  

"Yeah, perfectly fine, just been a long week that's all." 

So he wasn't going to mention anything about the threatening letters 
and  emails. That's okay thought Scully, two can play at that game. 
She walked over to the counter in the kitchen to fetch the drinks.  

Mulder ran a restless hand through his damp hair. He sat down on the 
couch and surfed the channels until he found the Knicks game. It had 
just occurred to him that here she was in his apartment with him for 
the next few days and he'd rather be on his own. 

Mulder was a little annoyed at himself. Must be sickening for 
something he thought. Under normal circumstances he'd have relished 
his good fortune, but the letters had shaken him more than he cared to 
admit. Maybe the death threats were getting to him. Maybe he was 
actually beginning to believe the melodramatic threats in the letters 
he'd been getting at regular intervals over the past ten days. Maybe 
that's why he couldn't find a place for himself lately. He tried to 
rationalize his reasons for not wanting to take the threats seriously. 
It was almost as if as long as he didn't take any notice of them, 
nothing could happen.

Scully was here with him, she'd be sharing his apartment for the next 
few days and he felt edgy. If anything he should feel protected with 
her here. This wasn't the first time she'd stayed over. He'd spent a 
fair bit of time at her apartment too, when the need had arisen.

It was ironic really, but it wasn't her presence that was making him 
feel this way. Not nervous; more edgy, as if nothing was quite right 
anymore. Maybe the threats had brought it all home to him. If by some 
quirk of fate these threats were on the level and he died tomorrow, 
would he really have lived at all? By his own standard's not other 
people's. Had he really been alive at all by his own standards? 

He realized that his hands were clenched. He straightened his fingers 
with a jerk. Lately he was losing interest. Even his love for the 
x-files wasn't enough to erase this inner turmoil he constantly 
wrestling with. 

And Scully. He remembered when her laughter had filled the air, making 
him  feel a myriad of things all at once. So many emotions, so many 
feelings, all colliding into each other, taking possession of him. It 
was frightening, not being able to control his own response to a woman 
who whispered along the perimeter of his mind like a gentle breeze. It 
was fearsome, especially to a man who was so accustomed to being in 
control. 

Mulder swore softly under his breath. Was it the letters that were 
making him so maudlin, making him reassess his life, and come up 
short? They had nothing to do with his partner, yet somehow, all the 
threats seemed to evoke thoughts of Scully. 

Taking a deep breath, he tried to concentrate on the game that was 
being  played out on the TV screen in front of him, grateful that 
Scully had taken  this opportunity to sit at his desk and do some work 
on h laptop. He wasn't in the mood for conversation.

His distracted deliberation was interrupted by the knocking on the 
door.

"Finally." Mulder pulled himself off the couch and went to the door to 
check on who it was. "Food."

As Mulder paid the pizza man, Scully cleared the papers off the coffee 
table in an attempt to make some room for the pizza.

"What do you want me to do with these, Mulder?"

"Oh, just stick them all on the floor, over there in the corner." 

The seductive scent of pepperoni, garlic and peppers drifted through 
the living room, making Mulder realize just how hungry he was.

They spent the rest of Saturday afternoon catching up on paperwork. 
Mulder was surprised at how much easier it seemed working with Scully 
beside him, the remains of the pizza resting on the desk between them.

By five, Scully called a halt. Mulder was quite taken aback when she 
suggested they go down to his local seven-eleven and pick up some 
groceries. She argued that as he was providing the roof over her head, 
the least she could do was to cook for them. 

An hour later they were getting back into his car, the makings of a 
lasagna and roast dinner for Sunday stored safely in brown paper sacks 
in the trunk. Between them, on the front seat next to the consul lay 
their final choice of video. Mulder had enjoyed their banter as they'd 
spent a little time in the shop deliberating the merits of Steel 
Magnolias versus Sixth sense. In the end they'd both decided on some 
light entertainment and come out carrying Home Alone 2. 

The evening passed in a warm, friendly fuzz. As he washed up later, he 
wondered why he'd avoided mentioning the letters.

Later, as Scully got ready for bed in the bathroom, he checked his 
emails  prior to shutting his computer down for the night. He was 
rattled to find the anonymous, blank email among his other messages. 
He deleted it without saying anything to his partner.

Sunday came and went. In the morning they worked on finishing off 
their paperwork.

He smiled  as he imagined their superiors face next day when they 
presented him with the documents all correct, signed and on time. Even 
the expense sheet had been filled in with all the relevant little bits 
of proof attached.

While dinner cooked in the oven, the partners decided to go for a run. 
Mulder hadn't enjoyed a Sunday so much for ages. He came back from 
their run, hot  and sweaty but in high spirits.

This was dashed the moment they got back through his door some two 
hours later and he saw the 'you have mail' symbol flashing on his 
computer. He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He knew what 
it was even before he opened it. He waited  until Scully had gone in 
to take a shower before opening it. His fingers shook on the mouse as 
he opened up the screen and selected the little closed envelope. 

Okay, so it was blank and anonymous. He tried to think of all the 
possible rational explanations, but somehow he couldn't convince 
himself that this was nothing at all.

The shine had gone off the day. Scully didn't understand why suddenly 
he'd clamed up. 

He toyed with his dinner, forcing himself to eat the some of the meal 
they'd had such fun preparing earlier when he saw the miserable look 
on his friend's face. 

He managed to hold onto his meal until Scully had gone down to her car 
to fetch her book. 

By the time she'd got back, he'd cleaned up, pretending everything was 
fine. He didn't think he could put up with her fussing over him 
tonight.

For the rest of the evening, he paced his apartment like a caged 
tiger, occasionally picking up his basketball and bouncing it on the 
floor. The atmosphere in the apartment grew tense. They sat on the 
couch in silence, making a pretence of watching the movie.

By nine, Scully suggested that she turn in, saying that she wanted to 
do a bit of reading. He didn't miss the hurt, confused look in her 
eyes.

He lay on his couch, the TV  muted surfing the channels, trying to 
convince himself that his course of action was the right one. If the 
threats were real, he didn't want to put his partner in danger.

Mulder would be glad to get into work tomorrow, maybe Skinner would 
have something really way out for them, some nice exsanguinations, a 
moth man or two, something to sink his teeth into and really piss his 
partner off, to feel normal again.

FBI BUILDINGS 
Basement office 
Monday 8:15 AM 

It was Scully's idea that they come into work in separate cars, she'd 
used  the excuse that they might have need of them during the day. The 
fact was she didn't want to confirm the fact that she'd spent the 
weekend at Mulder's. The gossip mill in this place needed no 
encouragement. He was going to follow her in later. He'd told her he 
had to see the Gunmen. He hadn't offered a reason, and she hadn't 
asked. 

She was surprised when ten minutes after her arrival as delivery boy 
knocked on the office door, a long white florist box in his arms. "Ms 
Dana Scully?" He inquired. 

"Yes?" 

"These are for you. " 

The teenager handed her the box and left. Scully stood for a moment 
rooted to the spot, before looking down at the gold lettering which 
proclaimed the contents to be from a very expensive, very exclusive 
flower shop. 

The Secret Garden...mmmm...Mulder. Was this his way of apologizing for 
last night? She'd tried not show him she'd been upset, but he must 
have noticed anyway. All of a sudden, the week ahead looked bright. 

She slid the ribbon off the box as she placed it on Mulder's desk, 
sorry,  their desk. Sliding back the green tissue paper, she stopped 
to admire the lush pink roses lying beneath. She touched one, sliding 
her finger down the  soft petal. Pink roses had always been her 
favorite. How did he know? Maybe Mulder was turning over a new leaf, 
becoming more sensitive. 

She could smell the fragrance of them from where she stood. Scully 
reached in to scoop the flowers out and felt something sharp rip into 
her fingers. The sudden gasp of pain was involuntary as she pulled her 
hand away quickly. 

Blood dripped from three of her fingers, dropping on the white box. 
She  pressed her thumbs against the injured fingers to stop them 
dripping over the desk, and looked around for the box of Kleenex. 

"I thought they dethorned roses before they sent them," she said to 
the empty room. 

Her fingers stung like hell, but at least she wasn't dripping blood 
all over the place.  

She went in search of her first aid kit. Peroxide and Band-Aids were 
the  order of the day. She winced as the peroxide came in contact with 
the wounds. 

When she'd taped up her fingers she tipped the box out on the desk. 
She  wasn't about to impale herself on anything else. Tumbling out, 
with the roses were two what looked like bougainvillea stems, the 
thorns on each, thick and large. 

"How the hell did they get in among the flowers?" 

A note fell out with the roses. She picked the slip of paper up, but 
other than the detail of the shop, there was no other writing on it. 
She put it to the side. She would ring them up later and express her 
feelings about the 'extras'.

She went in search of a vase and some water to put the roses in. After 
she'd done that and placed them on top of the filing cabinet. Then she 
wadded up some paper and with great care picked up the blood stained 
bougainvillea stems and put them back in the box. 

She was more shaken and upset than she was ready to admit even to 
herself. She went to get herself a cup of coffee to calm herself. Even 
taking into account the letters and the effect they may have had on 
her partner, this was all getting weirder by the minute. Mulder had 
*never* sent her flowers before.

By the time she got back with her Styrofoam cup of hot liquid, Mulder 
was  sitting at the desk. She was surprised at how pale he looked. 

"Mulder? Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

"Well you don't look very fine to me. C'mon tell me. What's wrong?" 

Mulder sat for a moment, looking at her. She could almost see him 
debating with himself whether he should tell her. He was afraid; that 
much she could see. Was it because he was afraid that letting her in 
on this might endanger her?  

"C'mon Mulder, what gives?" Scully didn't feel like the epitome of 
patience. In fact, she was beginning to feel royally pissed off. 

For a moment it looked as if he considered laughing the whole thing 
off. Then he seemed to come to a decision.

Letting out a deep sigh, he committed himself. "I'm not sure, but I 
think someone may have tampered with my car." She looked at him 
sharply. 

"When?" She demanded. 

"This morning." He gave her his patent puppy dog look, trying to make 
light of  the serious topic. "I barely avoided becoming intimately 
acquainted with a tree." 

Scully felt fear clawing at her chest. It took a moment to collect 
herself and to school her face into a passive mask. 

"Luckily, the steering column 'went' just up the street from the 
apartment,  before I'd got into any serious traffic. I managed to park 
up and got a cab  into work."  

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

Surprised, he said. "But I just did."

She continued as if he hadn't said a word. "Because you thought you 
could handle it on your own, you and Frohike?" 

Anger was sparking in her eyes. "Why is it that you can never admit 
that you need help?"

His jaw dropping as he stared at her and realized that she knew.

"Yes, Mulder I *know*, luckily not everyone has the same confidence in 
your  ability to keep out of trouble." 

"Frohike?" 

"Yeah, he called me on Saturday, he was worried about you."

"So this was a set up all along, you having to move out of your 
apartment."

"No Mulder. I needed to move out. You heard the noise those workmen 
were producing yourself."

"What else have you not told me about Scully?"

She wondered if he realized that Frohike had shown her the letters.

"Tell me Scully. What else is there, what *else* haven't you told me 
about?"

Did he seriously doubt her commitment to him? Was that where all this 
was leading?

She couldn't control the quiver in her voice, or the fact that her 
eyes seemed to fill with moisture.

"It that what you really think Mulder? After all this time, is that 
what you truly think of me?"

Mulder stood at the side of his desk, an inscrutable expression on his 
face. She couldn't stand it. She moved towards the filing cabinet, 
needing to put some space between them.

"I-I've never lied to you Mulder. There have been times when I've not 
been able to tell you the whole truth, but I've never lied." 

They stood in silence, looking at each other. And then the tension 
between them seemed to drain away. He put out his hand to her.

"I'm sorry Scully, I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm sorry I 
didn't tell you earlier. I know I should have done. I just didn't want 
you involve in case... I didn't want to run the risk of you getting 
hurt if this is for real."

"Mulder..."

"There's something else Scully," he interrupted her. There is 
something else you should know. There was a note, in my mail box. I 
found it as I left this morning." 

He took the paper out of his pocket and spread it on the top of the 
desk. He looked up at her. "You're smiling."

"That's not a smile Mulder, that's a stunned expression. I thought I'd 
have to get rough before I got you to share."

Scully moved back to the table and looked at the plain white sheet of 
paper. This note was like the others, the same font, the same size 
printed off on a laser printer there was nothing unusual about it. 
Until, that was, she started reading the contents.

The shiver that ran down her spine was so strong it visibly shook her. 
"Mulder," she gasped. 

This the threat wasn't as veiled or vague. It was a promise. 

"Where it is, nobody knows, tell the police and there she blows. Tick, 
tick, tick time is ticking away. Is it here is it there? Just one word 
and they'll be history." Scully read aloud

"What does it mean Mulder? What does he want?"

"Hazarding a guess, Scully, I'd say he's playing with me. He's 
escalating. The threats are every three days, but now he's involving 
other people."

Scully shiver again, she remembered the bombing in Dallas. What if 
that was what the note meant, that he'd planted a bomb somewhere? What 
if innocent civilians were involved? They couldn't take the risk.

Their hands were tied. If they went to the police, all that could be 
done was a restraining order might be issued. A restraining order 
against whom? They wouldn't know until someone tried to kill him and 
by then, well who'd need an order? 

She slipped a reassuring hand over his.

"Mulder, you need protection-" 

"Why, are we going to make love?"

He was doing it again and she was suddenly annoyed with him for being 
so transparent as to make light of it for her benefit. 

"Mulder!" Maybe hitting him was the way to go. With a two-by-four.

"Sorry."

"Don't push me Mulder." Their eyes met and held.

Scully let out a deep sigh. "You are hopeless, you know that?"

Mulder slipped his hands down to cup her elbows. "No Scully, with you 
by my side, the one thing I'm not is hopeless"

Scully felt her chest tighten. Desperate to change the subject she 
said.

"Thanks for the flowers, I didn't realize you knew my favorites were 
pink roses."

For a moment Mulder looked as stunned. "What flowers? What are you 
talking about?"

"Those," she said pointing to the vase perched on top of the filing 
cabinet. "Didn't you-" 

Her voice faltered and she felt the wave of giddiness wash over her as 
she looked at the Band- Aids covering her cut fingers. She breathed in 
deeply trying to get a grip on the panic that was threatening to 
overtake logic.

"Scully? What's wrong?" Mulder was wearing *his* panic face now. 

"It's just...there were some stems of bougainvillea amongst the rose. 
They ripped my hands..."

Mulder didn't let her finish "Grab your purse Scully, I'm taking you 
to hospital. We need to check this out."

"But Mulder..."

"Please Scully, just trust me on this."

FBI BUILDINGS 
Basement office 
Monday 2:40 PM

So, he'd overreacted, but with the benefit of hindsight everyone had 
twenty-twenty vision. The incident with his car had shaken him up and 
the possibility that his partner was in danger pushed him over the 
top.   

In the cab on the way over to the hospital he felt the panic almost 
overwhelm him. She'd tried to reassure him, but he was too worried to 
listen to her assurances that really she was fine. He didn't want to 
share his fear with her. The first thing he'd thought of was all those 
rare and exotic South American poisons. Common sense vied with his 
need to protect her. Surely most of those toxins were very fast 
acting.

By the time the cab deposited them back outside the Hoover Building 
some four and a half hours later, Mulder felt very foolish. He should 
have listened to his partner.

The blood tests and tox screen that had been ordered for her had so 
far shown up zilch. Okay, she had some nasty rips on her fingers, but 
that was about all. The nurse had cleaned her hand up and bandaged it 
more securely. Scully even got away with not getting an ant-tetanus 
shot.

The lab and the hospital staff had been marginally more understanding 
as they were Feds and she, a doctor to boot. Nevertheless they were 
still made to feel that it was a wasted journey all round. 

After what had happened to him that morning, he'd insisted they take a 
cab in case her car had been tampered with. I definitely need to get a 
grip on the paranoia, Mulder thought as he guided her through the 
elevator door, hand on the small of her back, and across the hallway 
to their office.

They had speculated on who might have reason to be behind this on the 
way back from the hospital. Whoever it was, was right on schedule, 
only it looked as if he'd escalated to actions rather than just veiled 
threats.

"I'll chase up that flower shop and see if they can help us in any 
way," Mulder said, as tired and hungry, they got to the door of their 
office. 

Scully fished out her keys, only to register that the door to their 
office was unlocked. She looked questioningly at Mulder. He  moved 
forward and pushed open the door. As they stood at the threshold, two 
things became evident, the white box that had held the flowers was 
gone and his computer was up and running and there was notification of 
email in the inbox.

They looked at each other for a moment before Mulder stepped in front 
of her and entered their office.

For a moment, Mulder didn't know what to think, then he crossed the 
room to  his computer and opened up the emails.

The message was stark. The black writing screaming out at them from 
the white screen. His eyes were glued to that small screen. He wasn't 
aware that Scully was standing next to him until he heard her gasp. 

The message was short and to the point. I CAN GET YOU ANY TIME I WANT.

Anonymous, untraceable. Mulder pressed the print button and sent the 
printed chattering into action. 

He tried to appear calm. "Do you remember the name of the florist? Get 
with them, see if they can help us out on this. I'm going to check the 
security videos and see if they come up with anything. I won't be 
long," he added as an after thought. He wasn't quite sure whose 
benefit that was for.

FBI BUILDINGS
Basement office 
Monday 4:50 PM

The two hours Mulder spent reviewing the security tapes were a 
complete waste of time. Yes, there had been a lot of people to-ing and 
fro-ing, but no one who looked out of the ordinary, so many suits, the 
greater number known by face, the others by the checks he had security 
run. 

He returned to their office, tired and dispirited, only to be told by 
Scully that in his absence, Skinner had sent down a thick file that 
needed checking out before they left that evening.

"You'd think there were other people employed here capable of doing 
these sort of checks," He muttered to himself as he sat down to attack 
his share of the pile.

Scully dug around in the desk draw next to her, and eventually fished 
out a bag containing sunflower seeds. Wordlessly she handed them to 
her partner. 

He knew his morose face had inspired some sympathy in his partner when 
she next spoke to him. "I'll just finish this one and I'll go and get 
us some coffee. Would that put you in a better frame of mind?" 

"If I take some of your pile, would you consider going over to 
Starbucks to get it? I don't think I can stomach the stuff that goes 
under the name of coffee here. And-would you bring me back a Danish 
maybe?" He turned on what he knew Scully called his most appealing 
puppy dog eyes.

"Mulder, if it stops you from moping over this, I'll bring you back 
two, I'll even make it my treat."

"Atta girl Scully." There was, at last, a smile on Mulder's face.



Two miles west, in a seedy looking room, worn heels hit the linoleum 
covered floor as the man paced from corner to corner. Thinking. 
Planning. Anticipating.

He wanted his prey to suffer in all the ways that he had come to 
suffer.

How long should he toy with his prey? He was impatient for the end to 
come. Impatient for the cleansing feeling to wash over him, closing 
that chapter in his life. So long, so very long. Yet the waiting of 
the past twelve days, the anticipation, had brought with it its own 
rewards. 

And the torture  will bring its thrills. 

That required time, one commodity he had plenty of.

With a magnanimous wave of his thin hand, he made his decision, 
awarding his prey a little extra time. And so, in giving a little, he 
would have more.

He was already enjoying it, his mind beginning to plan the next moves. 
A squeaking sound escaped his narrow lips, sounding macabrely like a 
child's giggle. He brought a hand up to silence them.  But there was 
no one to hear him in the empty room. 

FBI BUILDINGS 
Basement office 
Monday 8:15 PM

They'd worked steadily through the late afternoon and on into the 
evening. Scully was thankful she'd gotten more than just the one 
Danish Mulder had asked for. What with missing lunch as well, she 
could now hear her stomach rumbling. Hopefully they were done here 
now. She was more than ready to finish for the day.

She'd been puzzling over the events of the day and had come no closer 
to a solution. She spoke her thoughts aloud.

"Why you Mulder? What does this guy want from you? So far there 
doesn't appear to be a reason for all this. Threats to kill you, 
threats to hurt others if you take it any further. But there isn't a 
reason."

"Maybe this loony toon gets his kicks by trying to intimidate people, 
trying to frighten them, " Mulder tried to elucidate. "Maybe this is 
some sort of power thing. I really have no idea why he's picked on 
me-assuming it's a he."

They were finally done with the work the AD had assigned to them. "You 
finish up down here and I'll take this to Skinner; that man gets to 
spend even more time in this place than I do," Mulder told her, rising 
out of his chair and stretching. "You can be thinking about what you 
want for dinner."

Scully grimaced as she arched her back, making her spine crack. "How 
about some Italian for a change?"

"Sounds good. I won't be long."  He smiled at her as he left their 
office.

By eight forty-five, they were making their way through the deserted 
building towards the rear exit and the underground parking. 

FBI BUILDINGS 
Underground Parking garage 
8:20 PM 

He felt pain dull and throbbing traveling from his hip to his calf. 
His legs and back were aching, his fingers cold. He wasn't used to 
standing around for so long. Damn it, where the hell was Mulder and 
that pretty little partner of his? Maybe he should have hired someone 
to do this, but no, then he'd have missed out on all the fun. 

Things were all slotting in just nicely. He's been staking out agent 
Scully's car. He knew she was staying with him, he knew a lot about 
what was going on. Wouldn't their superiors like to know what he knew? 
They would have to take her car to get home.  

Such a clever move, tampering with Fox Mulder's car. It was enough to 
frighten him, but not to seriously hurt him. He didn't want that, no, 
at  least not just yet.  

He felt himself tingling with excitement, with anticipation. Here in 
the  darkest corner it was desolate. His head was aching, the 
adrenaline pumping  through him as he waited. In the past few hours 
his eyes had flickered, alert every time the door had opened. But 
every time he'd been disappointed. It wasn't his prey. 

Were they going to stay here all damn night? What if Mulder was 
getting really jumpy, what if they'd gotten a cab home? Shit! He 
hadn't considered that possibility.

Ushering her towards the door that led to the underground parking 
garage, Mulder shepherded her out. 

"You're the one being stalked here Mulder. I'm supposed to be the one 
protecting you," she said. 

Mulder winked at her. "I'll let you make it up to me later," he 
promised. 

The man never gave up, she thought. Pushing the heavy door open, 
Mulder held it there as he let her walk out first.  

As they stepped outside, a blast of cold night air went right through 
them. The area was poorly lit at the best of times, but tonight some 
of the lights were out. 

"So much for spending tax-dollars on something really useful like 
light bulbs," Scully complained. 

She saw the flashes of gun blast a split second before hearing the 
loud popping noise. Scully threw herself back against Mulder, pushing 
him to the ground and knocking the air out of him. Rolling on top of 
him, she tried to shield him with her body, scanning the gloom for the 
shooter, trying hard to listen to any sounds that could give her a 
clue where the SOB was. Still laying across Mulder, she twisted and 
drew her weapon.  

She heard the slam of a car door and  the roar as it took of into the 
dark  night.  

Mulder rubbed his head where it ached, having made contact with the 
door jamb. A looked a little dazed. He slipped his arms around her and 
tried leering at her. "You coming on to me Scully?" 

"Stop it, you idiot. Someone just took a shot at you and you're trying 
to play the fool and I'm *not* going to argue about acoustics, I know 
gunfire when I hear it." 

She twisted off him, frustration and fear echoing through her. 

Cautiously, gun still drawn she eased off him, but remained crouching 
as she scanned the dimly lit garage. 

They were surrounded by silence. Whoever had fired at them, at Mulder 
had  gone. She let out a long breath. Getting to her feet, she put the 
safety on  and shoved the gun back into its holster. 

She turned back to the wall and pulled out her penlight. Mulder got to 
his feet and joined her. "What are you looking for, Scully?" 

"These," she said triumphantly. "Pass me your pen- knife, and 
something to put these in. 

Standing on tip-toe she managed to extricate the first bullet. "Here 
Mulder, you'd better get the other one, you're taller." 

She looked at where the bullets had lodged. They had been fired far 
too high to have hit either of them. 

"It's a relief to know he's not much of a shot," Mulder quipped. 
Scully  wrapped the slugs in the handkerchief, before slipping them 
into her pocket. 

"That's debatable," she said. Mulder didn't reply. 

Mulder walked towards where the shots had been fired from, Scully came 
up beside him. She took the penlight out of her pocket.

"I'll take this bit and you start looking over there."

She wasn't holding out much chance on finding the spent cartridge 
cases, but it looked as though Luck was smiling favorably on them.

"Got it Scully, there's one over here."

Scully walked over to her partner, as he held the cartridge case 
triumphantly in some Kleenex. 

"Mulder I really think we should get someone in on this."  

"Oh, yeah. Who do you suggest? I've already got Frohike on it and what 
has he come up  with?" 

"Oh, *please* Mulder." Scully couldn't keep the note of exasperation 
out of her voice. "He might have a better chance at this if you were 
to update him from time to time. I don't think he owns a crystal 
ball." Scully paused. "It's been a long day, let's get you home." 

They walked to her car. She had managed to persuade Mulder that it was 
safe to use. This stalker was after Mulder not her. 

The flowers didn't quite fit in, and it seemed that the bougainvillea 
stems had been a genuine mistake, the shop was most apologetic. The 
description the shop had given here of the man who ordered them was 
vague, but it sounded a little like Frohike. Maybe he was trying to 
apologize. Stranger things had been known to happen, she thought.

The first thing she did was to check out the back seat. Mulder smiled 
in the half light. "This line of work is making you paranoid." 

"You were just shot at, I think that justifies a little paranoia, 
don't you?" 

She slid in and started the car. They sped out of the car park. She 
was  usually the one for sticking to speed limits, but right now she 
needed to get out of the place.  

She slowed down as they melded into light traffic. She glanced at him. 
The  light from the streetlights glowed on his face, playing 
hide-and-seek with  the shadows which alternately passed through the 
car. She saw his grimace as he turned his head towards her. 

"You're hurt!" 

"Just landed a bit awkwardly when you jumped on me, I don't think it's 
 anything serious." 

Stopping at the lights, Scully put her hand on his arm. "A soak in a 
hot tub will sort you out."  

"Join me?" 

"Mulder, you're incorrigible." But she smiled at him nevertheless. 

"It's green, Scully. Let's go." 

MULDER'S APARTMENT 
10:13 PM 

Home at last. Scully had persuaded Mulder to let her phone Frohike to 
bring  him up to speed with recent events. Frohike, as cagey as ever 
about speaking on a land line wasn't specific, but Scully got the 
impression he was working on something. 

With Mulder still soaking his bruises away, she phoned for a take out, 
and then, moving into the kitchen, she used her cell phone to dial 
Skinner's cell number.  

Maybe she shouldn't be doing this, she thought, but who else could she 
turn to? Who else could they trust? Scully had a feeling this was 
escalating out  of what she could handle on her own.  

In hushed tones she explained to their superior, what had happened so 
far,  what little she knew. Skinner took it as read that Mulder didn't 
know she'd  phoned him. He promised to do what he could.

It was only later when they'd eaten  and she was in bed on the point 
of falling asleep that she remembered she'd not thanked Frohike for 
his peace gesture. "It'll keep till tomorrow." 

FBI BUILDINGS 
Basement office 
Tuesday  

By ten fifteen that morning, they were both on their sixth cup of what 
went under the name of coffee. They'd turned in the spent bullets and 
cartridge case to a friendly technician who didn't ask questions first 
thing that morning. The rest of the time they'd spent reviewing the 
security tapes from the underground parking. 

The cameras were set to pan the entrance and exit rather than the rest 
of the area. The shots showing six-thirty last night looked promising. 
They showed a black Ford entering. The driver parked very close to the 
exit, but just enough out of the way not to be noticeable. The clips 
showed him getting out of the car. Scully had a vague feeling she knew 
him.

"What do you mean, you know him?" Mulder asked. "The shots are so 
blurred you can't possibly make out his face." 

"It's not his face, it's just something about him seems familiar  
something...I've sure I've seen him recently. He reminds me of 
someone. Oh my God! Your a partment Mulder. He was at your apartment 
on Saturday when I came over. Remember, you were in the shower. He 
said something about the phoned having a glitch in them. He was doing 
all the tenants." 

"Why didn't you tell me then?"  

"I *did* tell you, but you didn't seem to be very concerned about it  
Mulder. I didn't see much of him. He had his cap pulled down low. He 
was only there for literally a minute and a half. He had a company 
uniform and I saw his ID. I assumed you knew about it." 

"Didn't no one ever tell you what happens when you assume, Scully?" 

He couldn't contain his anger. She bit her lip. He remembered an 
incident she'd told him about, long ago.

"Yes, they told me once when I started at Quantico, I thought I'd 
learned my lesson. I'm sorry Mulder."  

Her voice was so quiet Mulder could barely make out her words. He saw 
how  distressed she was. He let out a sigh and shook his head. He laid 
a hand gently on her shoulder

"*I'm* sorry too, Scully. I'm way out of line yelling at you. You 
don't deserve it. Anyway, I don't suppose it's made much of a 
difference, that SOB seems very determined. We'll get in touch with 
the guys and get them to sweep the place." 

She still looked very downcast. 

"C'mon Scully, What say you we take a break? I'll treat you to a 
custard  donut. Then we'll get onto the phone company and and out 
what's going on." She smiled, accepting his peace offering. 



Tuesday  
4:15 PM 

Scully was still worrying about having told Skinner when she met the 
AD in a hallway later that afternoon. 

He acted as if nothing had happened, and in  passing the time of day 
with her happened to say, "Oh and by the way Agent Scully, I thought 
you'd be pleased to know that there has been a  new directive about 
increasing security in all parts of the building." 

Scully understood what he was telling her. "Thank you sir, I'm sure a 
lot of employees will be relieved to know that."

Half an hour later the call had come from their friendly technician. 
They were 45 AUTO, 230 grain full-metal-jacketed bullets. The 
cartridge case was from one of the bullets. Her investigation into the 
phone repair man showed that a Steve Price had indeed been sent out to 
Mulder's building to check for and repair a fault.

Mulder's paranoia is catching, she thought as she rubbed a hand over 
her eyes.

By six, she was ready to quit. She shifted her shoulders in an effort 
to loosen the muscles which seemed tied up in knots there. 

She felt the gentle touch of Mulder's hands on her neck and shoulders, 
soothingly massaging, kneading the tension away. 

"I think we're about done here for today, Let's get out of here and go 
home." 

"That sounds good," she answered before she realized her mistake. He'd 
said  home, and she'd agreed with that, but it wasn't *her* home at 
all. 

She drove them back to Mulder's apartment. Tomorrow they would go 
fetch his  car from the garage. Mulder had spent some time on the 
phone to the garage this morning. The mechanic still couldn't work out 
how the damage to the steering column had occurred. 



It was dark by the time they drew up outside his building. The 
streetlights  showed that their usual parking spot had been taken, 
they'd have to leave the car further up the street. She got out and 
walked around the front to join him on the sidewalk. "So, who's in 
charge of dinner tonight," she asked. 

Before he got a word out, she heard a silenced thud and felt the 
movement of air on her cheek as a second bullet whistled by her. 

Instinctively, Scully dropped to the ground, pulling Mulder down with 
her. 

"Stay down." Scully ordered her partner as she drew her Sig Sauer 
scanning  the area for the shooter. Gun poised, she got to her feet 
taking care to keep within the cover of the car. She glanced left and 
right, the street was deserted. 

The shots had come from across the street, from the dark alley. She 
edged around the car, careful not to make herself a target. At some 
point she'd have to make a run for it across the street. 

She moved to her left, away from the entrance to the alley, hoping 
that in that way the perp would have to show himself to get a clear 
shot at her. 

Stooping low so as not to expose too much of her body as a possible 
target she reached the other side and  crouched down sheltering behind 
a red Camry. Carefully she eased her way round the vehicle and on to 
the next one, using the parked cars as a shield as she edged her way 
to the entrance of the alley. 

She made her move after the perp. Keeping low she finally got across 
the sidewalk  and into the shelter of a wall that run up to the mouth 
of the alley. 

Gun raised skywards, she edged her way forward inch by inch. She 
didn't have time to look for her partner, trusting him to be there to 
watch her back as normal. 

The sweat was running down her spine as she reached the corner. It 
didn't matter how often she'd been through this on each occasion she 
was scared, although she'd never admit that, not even to her partner. 

She kept moving forward step by step, covering an inch at a time, 
keeping a low profile. Cautiously peered around the corner into the 
gloom, she stared into the darkness not seeing anyone.   

Scully edged forward, keeping a low profile, ears trying to make up 
for the lack of vision.

She knocked into some debris. 

The metal garbage can lid fell, setting up a  raucous clatter, the 
sound seeming to bounce of the walls, magnifying in intensity with 
each reverberation. A second later there was a screeched and  
something shot out between the trashcans. 

Realizing at the last moment that it was a cat, Scully raised her 
weapon. She let out a long breath. It had made her jump. She wasn't 
sure who was more startled, her or the cat. The animal almost got 
itself shot.  

Glancing back up the alley towards the light, she looked to confirm 
that her partner was there. 

What she saw by the illumination of the streetlight threw her. He was 
in no condition to do anything. He'd been hit. His hand clasped his 
shoulder. 

Even in this poor light, Scully could see the blood seeping between 
his fingers. For a millisecond she hesitated, wavering between concern 
for her partner and the need to catch the SOB who'd done this to him. 

That instant of hesitation was long enough. She saw the silhouette at 
the far end of the alley. Scully broke into a run in a bid to catch 
up. 

The screech of tires peeling of into the distance told her she'd lost. 
Whoever had fired at them had gone. She ran to the end of the alley, 
but the street there was empty. 

Now she was focused totally on her partner. Putting the safety on, she 
shoved the gun into the waistband of her pants. 

Scully abandoned all caution as she ran out of the  alley to her 
injured partner. It was only a matter of yards, but it felt like 
forever to cover the distance that separated them. As she neared him, 
she pulled out her cell phone to get assistance. 

She'd already dialed nine-one when Mulder's voice stopped her finger 
just before it hit the one again. "No, Scully, please. No hospital. 
*Please*." 

He was leaning heavily on the wall. By the time she reached him, he'd 
slid down onto the sidewalk.

Scully went into doctor-mode as she knelt by his side. "Here, let me 
see." 

Mulder tried to shrug her away, tried to make out this was nothing, 
but the  motion was not without it's cost. He winced as pain shot 
through him.

He left a smear of blood on his forehead when he brushed his hand 
through his hair. Scully couldn't see in the dim light how much blood 
he'd lost, but the dampness of the sleeve of his suit jacket confirmed 
her fears that it was more than Mulder would have her believe.

"Just for once Mulder, will you quit playing the hero?"

As quickly and as gently as she could, she pulled the jacket and the 
shirt away from the wound. Even in this poor lighting she saw how pale 
he'd become.

She examined the wound. "Looks like it just grazed your shoulder."  
Her heart constricted at the sight of the blood oozing from the wound. 
Putting her hand in his pocket, she fished out his handkerchief and 
wadded it up before pressing it firmly over the wound. "Hold this in 
place. It will have to do until they put a bandage on it in hospital." 

"Can't you fix me up Scully? If I go to the emergency room, they'll 
start  asking questions. They're bound to report gunshot wounds to the 
police; you  know that Scully. I can't afford to put anyone else in 
danger. I...I don't think he's bluffing."  

The thing she was about to do Scully knew, would be against here 
better  judgment. No, she corrected herself, the two things. 

Placing herself beneath his good arm, she drew it over her shoulder 
and  slipped her arm around his waist to help support him." 

"The first sign of infection, you're going in. Do I make myself 
clear." 

His, "Yes, mom," set her muttering inaudibly. 

She wondered if Mulder understood how hard it was for his partner to 
go along with his request. Just how far he expected to push her 
envelope.  

Now that the initial feeling of light-headedness from the adrenaline 
rush was wearing off, she wondered at the lack of response from the 
neighborhood. 

Thinking about it, the situation was probably loud only to them. The 
shots had been silenced, and trash cans clattering ang cats yowling 
wasn't exactly earth-shatteringly important to the average Joe 
Six-pack. This was one time she was actually thankful for the lack of 
public involvement. 

Over the years she'd had plenty of practice supporting him when he was 
injured, but that didn't make trying to get him into his building and 
up to his apartment any easier for her.

Mulder kept on insisting he was fine, but nevertheless he leaned 
heavily on her. It took some time to get him up the couple of steps 
through the door and into the hallway. She prayed they wouldn't meet 
up with any of his neighbors as they waited for the elevator to come 
down.

It was difficult maneuvering him, with his injured arm buttoned into 
his suit for support and her other hand applying pressure to the pad 
of cloth. They finally got up to his floor without meeting anyone and 
without dripping blood anywhere. 

At last she got him into his bathroom. "Sit," she ordered closing the 
toilet lid. Mulder seemed only too willing to oblige. He sank weakly 
down onto the seat.

Scully was concerned at how pale he looked. She gently but firmly 
pushed hid head down between his knees. "I can't have you passing out 
on me Mulder, I'll never be able to lift you if you do."

After a short while his color improved, and his skin didn't feel quite 
so cold and clammy. 

Opening his medicine cabinet, she rummaged around till she found the 
supplies she needed. She had to smile as she looked at the contents. 
After the years that they'd been together and his propensity for 
getting himself injured, Scully now insisted that the contents of his 
cabinet would have done a small field hospital proud. This was one of 
the times that she was really glad that she had. 

Very slowly she took off his jacket and peeled off his shirt. "I'm 
sorry if this hurts," she told him as she started working on the graze 
the bullet had made. "You're going to have a scar there." 

"It'll keep the other one there company," he said, obviously without 
thinking, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. 

She wasn't fast enough to mask the look on her face, and he'd seen her 
distress.

"Scully? I'm sorry, sorry for hurting you, sorry for involving you in 
this mess. I didn't mean it to sound like it did."

"It's okay Mulder, I understand."

He winced as she put the peroxide on the wound. She could see the 
muscles in his jaw tighten as she swabbed the wound and then had to 
take a pair of tweezers to remove one or two threads that were stuck 
to the injury.

Eventually she finished the bandaging to keep the pressure on the pad.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Scully." 

She shrugged, putting the supplies back into the medicine cabinet. "It 
comes with the territory."  

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on that couch of his 
tonight. 

If they were going to get away with their, to her way of thinking,  
irresponsible actions, he'd need to get rest and plenty of it. She put 
her  hand to his forehead; so far they were lucky, he didn't seem to 
be running a fever-yet. That is what she feared most. If she couldn't 
control it.... 

She didn't want to go down *that* path. Once she'd gotten him into 
bed, she had every intension of updating Skinner. 

"You're going to get Skinner on to this just as soon as I'm asleep, 
aren't  you?" Mulder's comment stunned her. She felt her face coloring 
up. 

"How...?" 

"If that had been you Scully, would I be doing anything less?" Mulder 
said to her with a wry smile. "Only use your cell phone; I'd rather 
the perp didn't know every last detail."

"What do you mean?"

"I've got the feeling that although that visit from the phone company 
was genuine, somewhere along the line my phone's been bugged. We'll 
have to get the Guys in to sort it." 



He'd missed.

He'd been so damned close, yet he'd missed. He'd heard someone coming, 
a  dirty, stinking wino, who was probably so out of it he didn't know 
what day  it was. Distracted, his shots were misspent, he hadn't 
achieved his ambition.

He'd had to escape. 

He was tired of this game, of this waiting. He would have his revenge, 
have  it very, very soon. 

WEDNESDAY 

As soon as it was light enough, Scully went back outside to the spot 
of last night's event to see if she could recover at least one of the 
spent bullets. She was relieved to see that last nights rain had 
washed away most traces of Mulder's blood. Half and hour's searching 
in the damp morning light finally yielded the location of one of the 
slugs. Carefully digging it out, she bagged it, to take down to the 
lab later on in the day. Maybe she should have done this last night, 
but to be honest she hadn't wanted to leave him on his own. 

Thinking back to last night she considered how powerless she'd made 
the AD by the restrictions she'd put on him. He'd agreed to help, but 
it would be very limited. Her second call to the Gunmen had not been 
much more informative.  One of them would be over to sweep the place. 
Other than that, all Byers would say was that they were 'tinkering, he 
wouldn't be drawn on it. 

Mulder insisted he was well enough to go into work. The wound seemed 
clear enough when she examined it, no signs of inflammation or 
infection. Besides, he pointed out, they were probably safer in their 
basement office.  

The bullet Scully took to the lab was too mangled to be matched the 
others exactly, but it was the same caliber. Brian had called her to 
give her the news. "The bullet could neither be identified nor 
eliminated as having been fired from the same gun as the other two. 
All comparisons were inconclusive. The class characteristics agree but 
there is an insufficient correlation between individual 
characteristics. I'm sorry Agent Scully, but it was the best I could 
do." 

"It's okay Brian, I didn't think there was much chance of you being 
able to match them, although I'm sure they came from the same gun."

When she returned to their office she found Mulder in a state of 
excitement. 

"They have an extraordinary intimate relationship with computers," he 
told  her cryptically.   

She didn't understand. "Who?" 

"Frohike and the guys. Their Kung Fu really is the best you know." 

"How so?" 

"Frohike came up with a name, don't ask me how it was done you don't 
want to know. They cross matched it with emails sent to me and from 
the telephone at home. Some guy, Sam Ferris, been in and out of mental 
institutions all his life."  

"I'm going to see Skinner about putting the heat on to assemble a task 
force. We're not going any further with this alone" 

"I'm going in there with you Scully."

"Are you sure that's wise Mulder? I don't want some nut taking any 
more shots at you, Mulder."  


SHAW, WASHINGTON DC  

Mulder had insisted on coming with them on the shake down.

The unmarked vehicle in which they were traveling headed towards 
Northwest DC. This wasn't a neighborhood to wander around aimlessly 
and alone. Here, things could change from borderline to downright 
threatening in a block or two.

As they exited their vehicle, Scully noted how run- down most of the 
buildings were, the atmosphere was oppressive. This was an area of 
dilapidated housing stock, where low-rent housing as plentiful in the 
alleys that led off the main thoroughfares. Just then the other 
transport arrived, spilling out Skinner and the rest of the team.  

Skinner lead the police in. Scully's main concern was keeping her 
partner towards the back. Out of any action and danger.

At first Sam Ferris put on a show of bravado when the task force first 
forced their way into his dismal abode. Within moments he was 
overpowered by the brawny Latin-American cop and his fair haired 
partner, and all pretense of  resistance was over.

Handcuffed and against a wall the two cops searched him, but found 
nothing incriminating.

Meanwhile, some of the task force almost took the place apart.

Mulder insisted on coming with them and she'd made sure they both 
stayed in the background, reasoning that if there was a bomb as the 
perp had promised, then this was probably the safest place to be.  

Standing by the damaged door, Scully looked over at her partner. Her 
eyes moved to the perp. He seemed such a pathetic character face to 
face. That was often the case. It never ceased to amaze Scully how 
even the most audacious criminal seemed to shrink in stature once he 
was no longer in charge of the game. 

Ferris's complexion, already pale, lost all semblance of color when 
Skinner started questioning him.

"We've got it," came a shout from the bedroom. O'Malley and Jones, two 
cops Scully knew from way back emerged from the back room, with a gun 
and a box of ammunition in evidence bags.  

"I suppose you have a permit for this?" Skinner asked. Beads of sweat 
broke  out in a thin watery line along Ferris's upper lip. 

Ferris rubbed his hands together nervously, running his hands through 
his hair.  

"It's Dad's" he confided in a little boy voice. Don't tell him." He 
seemed to change personality before them. 

Deciding to play along, Scully stepped forward away from the door and 
her partner and asked "Were *is* your father?"  

"He's not here. Don't tell him. He'll be angry with Sam. He'll make 
Sam go  back to that place again. They keep telling me...." 

Skinner looked at Scully. There was a look of agreement between them. 
This man was just the run of the mill nutcase who doesn't want to get 
sent back to the nuthouse.  

"I had to do it, I had to shoot him." Ferris pointed towards Mulder 
who was still standing at the entrance to the room. 

"The voices, they keep telling me. I have to be a good boy. I have to 
do as  I'm told or I'll go back there."

"Where?" Mulder spoke for the first time since they entered the 
apartment. "Where Sam, tell me?" 

"I can't, I mustn't."

"Mulder, look at this," Scully interrupted. "Look at this ammo."

She held the evidence bag out to Mulder to show him one of the loose 
bullets. "45 AUTO, same as the spent case we found at the scene. This 
should just about wrap it up."

Mulder addressed Ferris again. "The bomb you threatened to detonate 
Sam, where is it?"

If possible, Ferris turned paler still, he swallowed hard. There was 
an unhealthy gray tinge about his face. "I mustn't say. T-they told 
me. I'm not to talk to anyone."

Covering his face Ferris sank down onto his dingy couch. "And now I'm 
going  to prison." The words were followed by a barely stifled sob.

FBI BUILDING 
3:50 PM

Later, back at the Bureau, The pistol, magazine and live ammunition, 
were submitted to the lab for analysis. Mulder and Scully waited 
around in Ballistics while Brian carried out the tests. The pistol was 
in perfect working condition. 

They watched as the pistol was test fired in the water tank and 
standards from the pistol compared to the spent case and bullets from 
the scenes. 

Neither of them were surprised at the results from Ballistics. The 
results of which were a match. Breech marks from standard from pistol 
compared to the spent case from the garage. The bullet land impression 
comparison was also the same.

The gun, found in Ferris's rundown room was a perfect match for the 
bullets they'd dug out in the Bureau underground garage. Those had 
been bullets fired from this gun. The one Scully had recovered from 
outside Mulder's building was too damaged to a positive match. There 
were enough similarities to presume that it too, came from the same 
gun.

Back in the seclusion of their untidy office, Mulder's attitude 
surprised Scully.  

"What's going to happen to him?" Mulder asked, compassion in his 
voice. "The man's a pathetic screwup." 

"Why *you* Mulder, why did he pick on you for his victim?" Scully 
couldn't understand. 

"Maybe he has a reason, maybe in time, he'll let us in on it. Possibly 
he's just got a grudge with authority in general and I just happened 
to pull out the short straw as far as his confused mind is concerned. 
Who knows? At least it's over."

She heard Mulder let out a long sigh.

Scully sympathized with the way he felt. The strain of the last few 
days she could certainly learn to live without.

So far there was nothing to tie Sam Ferris in with them. No reason, no 
old cases that Mulder could remember. 

"What about his father, he seemed very concerned that his old man 
shouldn't find out."

"Not much chance of that happening Scully, not this side of the great 
divide. I had it checked out. Sam Ferris's father died in a fire some 
fifteen years ago. Soon after that Sam was put away in a mental 
institution. He was finally released about six months ago."

"Did he cause the fire," Scully asked.

"Nothing was ever proved, one way or the other."

For now there was nothing more they could do. Ferris was in police 
custody, awaiting the due process of the law. 

All along she'd suspected that the repairman in Mulder's apartment was 
involved somehow, now that Ferris had been arrested, she realized that 
maybe the repairman really *was* a repairman and she was just being 
paranoid.   

By the time they'd finished and filed their reports it was close on 
five.

"C'mon Scully, let's call it a day. I don't know about you, but I've 
had more than enough excitement these last few days. Let's go home."

"Sounds good Mulder. I'll drop you off and then head off home. I've 
got  things I need to catch up on. I'll call around about eight 
tomorrow and bring you in. We'll get your car back as well. Maybe I 
can get Skinner to drive it back for you, your shoulder won't be up 
for that for a day or two yet."

MULDER'S APARTMENT 
6:15 PM 

The apartment seemed empty without her. She'd stayed long enough to 
grab an iced tea and pack her bag. He stood in his bedroom holding the 
hairbrush she'd left behind feeling the lack of her all around him.

Mulder felt a little saddened. It was such a relief to have the 
pressured  taken off them, but secretly he'd nurtured plans of them 
having a quite dinner, relax with a movie, just spending some time 
together without the pressures of work. Now that his shoulder was on 
the mend, he couldn't even use that as an excuse to bring her back.

She'd excused herself with a list of RL jobs she'd neglected and had 
to see to.

"Yeah, a girl's gotta  do.... It's not a  problem Scully. I've got one 
or two thing to catch up on too."

"I'll be around at eight tomorrow, make sure you're ready to go. Night 
Mulder, have a restful evening."

What else could he do but wish her goodnight?

SCULLY'S APARTMENT 
6:57 PM

Dropping Mulder of at his apartment, Scully had collected her things 
and then went on to her own apartment. A bittersweet feeling traveled 
with her. She was glad this episode was over, but for all that, she'd 
enjoyed her time at his apartment. A little while longer would have 
been nice, but he himself had said he had things to do. It would have 
been nice to spent some leisure time together. A nice meal, maybe a 
video, but it was obviously not meant to be. That was just the way 
their life was.

"No use crying over what can't be," she murmured to herself as she 
unlocked  the door to her apartment. She pushed her door open and 
reached around for the light switch.

"What can't be?" 

Scully froze. 

The question was accompanied by the pressure of the cold gun nuzzling 
her  temple.  

An arm snaked around her throat, making it hard for her to breath. 
"It's about time you showed up, I've been waiting for you." 

The door of her apartment was slammed shut, underscoring the 
malevolence of  the words. In the ensuing gloom, Scully fought hard to 
keep the panic at bay. 

She tried to move her head back, but the sound of the hammer being 
cocked, immobilized  her instantly.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She tried to keep her voice steady, 
to remain in control. 

The rumble of his mirthless laughter drove icy spikes of fear through 
her 

"Still haven't worked it out? And there was me thinking how clever you 
and  that partner of yours are. Just goes to show how wrong your 
reputation really is." 

Standing very close behind her, he brought his mouth close to her ear. 
Scully couldn't stop the shiver of revulsion that ran through her as 
she felt his hot breath on her cheek. 

"Oh, but you'll get to like this before I'm through with you," he 
murmured. He pressed the butt of the gun harder against her temple. "I 
want you to suffer. Really suffer."

Then there was a click ant the light in the room snapped on. 

Scully pulled her head back as far as he would allow her. She saw his 
face,  and recognition was instantaneous. "You're the telephone repair 
man."   

"There," he almost chortled, "I always said you were bright." The 
spiteful smile on his face faded and was replaced by something far 
more sinister.

"Steve Price," Scully said, trying to put a name to the face. That's 
who the phone company had sent to fix the phones in Mulder's building.

"Ah, no. Guess again lady"

"No? But...."

"Yeah, we've met before. I paid you and your boyfriend a visit. I 
'persuaded' the other guy that he didn't want to do that apartment." 

"Who are you? Why're you doing this?"

"Think lady, what else are you recalling? Do you remember Cliper? Are 
there any bells ringing in that bright little head of yours? Must be 
nearly seven years now. If you give me a moment, I can tell you right 
down to the last few minutes." 

The third case she'd ever been assigned to with Mulder, some four 
weeks after that fateful first case in Bellefleur, Oregon. 

His name was Rick, and he'd had a penchant for little children. 

Mulder had been seconded to that case in New York, and she'd gone 
along with him. She was the one who actually arrested him. Mulder had 
got too close, as he always did with cases involving innocent 
children. 

But Rick Cliper was dead. Had been these past three years. Dead at the 
hands of fellow prisoners, who'd judged him, unfit to live, even by 
their standards. 

"B-but you're d-dead!" The words escaped before she could stop them. 

"Oh no lady, I'm very much alive. I am his twin and your nemesis." 

His eyes on her, Robert Cliper slowly slid the tip of the steel down 
along  her throat. She could see he was enjoying this. 

His eyes seemed to be glued to where the vein was pulsating in her 
neck. She was afraid. 

"It wouldn't be long now. I want, need, you to be afraid, very afraid. 
The way my brother was before those animals killed him. 

Her fingernails dug into her palms as she forced herself to blank 
everything out, to remain calm, professional.  

"Your brother made a mistake. There's no need for you to make one 
too."   

"But I already have, when I shot your boyfriend instead of you. 

"It was you? But-" And then she realized- there were two of them. 
Ferris  might have fired the shots at them in the underground garage 
for whatever misguided reason, but it was this man, Cliper that had 
shot Mulder last night. 

Two. Two of them with different agendas, no wonder things didn't seem 
to tie in with Ferris that afternoon, her gut feeling had been right. 

"Yes, it was me, but this time it's close range and I won't miss."

She thought her heart would stop as he run the gun down her chest. All 
he had to do was squeeze the trigger and it would be over

Scully tried to quash her panic. She didn't want to die. There was so 
much  unspoken, things she needed to say. 

She took a deep breath, trying to play for time. "Why do you want to 
kill me?"

For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her, then contempt twisted 
his mouth. "Because of what you did to my mother. Have you ever 
watched someone you love died in agony in front of your very eyes?"

Scully looked at him bewildered "But I don't even know your mother."

"You might just as well have pulled the trigger, it would have been 
less painful for her if you had. It's *your* fault her life came to an 
end. She couldn't stand the shame. You sent my brother Ricky to prison 
and you made my mother take her life. I've lost everything because of 
you, and now it's payback time. It's time you knew what it feels like 
to lose everything you hold dear." 

Her rational, professionalism  finally kicked in. It was like doing 
one of  those baked-bean puzzles, Scully thought trying to separate 
the jumbled facts in her head; all the pieces the same, yet all 
different. She tried sorting the pieces, separating them, separating 
Ferris from Cliper.

"Why Me? It wasn't me who made your brother do those things. All I 
tried to do was protect some other parent's child from being harmed."

"You weren't content in taking Ricky, you had to take my mother as 
well. Now I'm going to make you pay for it." His eyes were cold, like 
winter steel. "Play time is finished. Time to get on with things."

Scully saw the anger in his face, heard it in his voice. If she was to 
get out of this alive, she would have to keep very calm and not let 
him rile her.

Suddenly she'd figured it out. "You. It was you who sent the roses." 

"Very good." He seemed pleased that she'd worked that one out. "I 
wanted you to feel scared, unsure. I wanted you to feel the pain and 
the panic. Like my brother when those bastards kept getting at him." 

He was breathing hard now, his voice gathering momentum. "He didn't 
belong in there. He was a decent man who made a mistake. You killed 
him, you may as well have pulled the trigger." Cliper shouted at her.

She felt the mantle of calm starting to cover her panic. "Decent men 
don't do that to little children," she pointed out. Scully realized 
too late this was not the way to go. She saw the red color flare into 
his face. 

"Innocent children, huh! The kids asked for it." 

Frenzy was mounting in his face, in his voice. Any second he'd be 
pulling the trigger. Desperately, she tried diverting his agitation. 

"How did you know where I was?" The moment the question was out of her 
mouth, she knew. Of course. It was so simple, it had never occurred to 
her. 

He'd had the whole thing set up form the beginning. He'd simply been 
playing with them. The phone, the computer. Her landlord decision was 
an unexpected bonus for him.

"Ah I can see you are beginning to understand the scheme of things. 
Good,  good."  

Training his gun on her, he stepped hack, giving her clear access to  
her phone. He pointed at it. "Call him." 

She didn't understand. "What?"

"Your boyfriend, call your boyfriend." 

Mulder. Everything froze in her for a second time. "Why?"

"Because I *told* you to," he said as if explaining to a stupid child. 
"Because I want to kill him, I want you to watch him die." 

Cliper growled. And then he smiled. 

Scully knew to fear that smile. He was getting closer and closer to 
the brink. 

"Maybe, I'll let you pull the trigger yourself. Mmm, now that would be 
fun watching you kill him."

"No!" The word shot desperately out of her mouth before she could stop 
it. 

Cliper was incensed now. He waved the gun, aiming at her head. There 
was no doubt in her mind. He would shoot her without hesitation if she 
dared refuse him again. She wouldn't be able to help Mulder if she 
were dead. 

Somehow the thought helped to steady her. She had a gut feeling that 
Clipper wasn't going to stop at just killing her, he wanted her 
partner too. Somehow, in his twisted mind, that would even the score.

She felt the blow as the cold metal of the gun made contact with her 
face. For a moment she saw stars and the room shifted around her. She 
fell to her kneels, huddling up in an effort to get out of his reach. 
It took a few seconds for her ears to stop ringing and for the room to 
right itself. She felt the tear that had managed to squeeze its way 
out of her eye, land on her cheek. 

Her survival instincts took over. She wouldn't be able to help Mulder 
if she were dead. Somehow the thought helped to steady her. Cliper 
wasn't going to stop at just killing her, he wanted her partner too. 
In his twisted mind, that would even the score.

Slowly, she exhaled the breath she'd been holding and gingerly got to 
her feet. "All right, I'll phone him." He appeared pleased that she 
was willing to cooperate. "No tricks now," He warned her. 

Scully's hands trembled as she picked up the phone, her fingertips 
slippery as she pressed the sequence of numbers she knew by heart on 
the keypad, the sequence that would connect her with Mulder's home. 

Her hand stole up to her injured face as she waited to be connected. 
Each time the phone rang on the other end of the line the sound 
reverberated through her. In a way she hoped he wouldn't be there, but 
logically that wasn't going to be so. 

When Mulder finally picked up the phone, she couldn't breath. With a 
great effort she forced herself to sound calm. 

"Sweetie, I need you to come over, I've got something I want you to 
see." 

Standing beside her, Cliper was grinning. "Scully?" She could hear the 
bewilderment and confusion in her partner's voice. "I-" 

Scully cut in before Mulder had a chance to stutter anything else. "I 
need your advise," she said sweetly. I've got Dad a present. I'm not 
sure if he'll like it." 

"Present?" Mulder echoed. 

Please, please understand Mulder, she thought desperately.  

"If you won't give me your opinion on his present, I might not let you 
come with me to Dad's party on Saturday," she said coyly.

"Uh-huh, okay, that's good, finish your shower then, and come right 
over." She said in reply to nothing. 

Cliper pushed down the cradle to disconnect the phone, before she had 
a chance to add anything else. 

"Too bad neither of you will be making that party. Poor old daddy." 

She couldn't let Cliper hurt Mulder, no matter what he did to her.

"It's not too late you know, you could still just walk away from 
this." 

"Huh. Listen lady, it's way too late. Too late for Ricky, too late for 
my Mom, so it's too late for you and your boyfriend. Now sit over 
there where I can see you and we'll wait for the fun to begin." 

Scully felt sick. What if she didn't come up with anything? What if- 

"Why drag him into this? Your grudge is with me." 

"That's exactly why I'm 'dragging him into this'. Because he means 
something to you. I want you to feel the pain, to feel the anguish my 
mother did when they took Ricky away. I want your heart to shred as 
you watch him suffer, as you watch is life slip away and then, then 
you'll die. You'll want to die, just as my mother did." 

There was nothing else she could say. Any attempt to reason with 
Cliper had resulted in him becoming all the more agitated, all the 
more volatile. He was set and primed, ready to go off at any moment at 
the slightest provocation. She had tried to resist him, it had earned 
her a pistol-whipping across the face. 

She should have never called Mulder. If her time was now, she should 
have gone. Gone on her own. He had a penchant for getting himself into 
life-threatening situations, he was an expert at it, he didn't need 
her help to do it.  

I've done it this time Mulder. I'm so very sorry. Will you ever  
forgive me? You know something is wrong, but do you realize I've lead 
you like a lamb to the slaughter? There is so much I want to tell you, 
so much you should know. 

She sat on the floor, in the corner not daring to move, not daring to 
even breathe too fast. Her hand cupped her sore cheek. She could feel 
the welt rising on her skin. 

Please God, let Mulder have got help.



He'd been waiting so long for her to figure it out. For a high flying 
FBI agent this woman was very obtuse at times. This constant 
explanation was beginning to irritate him. It was not only his 
brother's death that has caused his anger, but his mother's as well, 
and he intended to punish her for that.

What was it that the Good book said. 'An eye for an eye.' He'd have 
liked to have got *her* mother, but this boyfriend seemed a lot more 
important to her. How very fitting to kill her boyfriend and make her 
watch. 

He'd almost lost it when he saw the confusion in her eyes. The bitch 
had caused his mother's death and she dared not remember. 

The temptation to shoot her had been almost overwhelming, at the last 
moment he managed to restrain himself, he would resist, it would be so 
much better if he could hang on a little. The plan, remember the plan, 
he reminded himself.



She heard the sound of a vehicle coming to a halt outside the 
building. Was this the one? Was this Mulder? Her ears strained to hear 
the tell-tale sounds of the elevator; of footsteps in the hallway. But 
she heard nothing, only her own breathing and the sound of her 
heart-beat which to her sounded loud enough to fill the room. The 
knock on the door some minutes later, caused Scully to nearly jumped 
out of her skin. She tried to calm her pounding heart, still the 
weakness that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Concentrate on the here and now, she admonished herself. She looked 
around the room to see if there was anything she could use as a 
weapon. Her own gun was it her purse, but that was over by the door 
where she'd dropped it. 

The knocking was repeated. Then she heard his familiar voice. "Scully, 
it's me, Mulder," he called to her. "Open the door." 

Cliper cocked his gun. "Do it," he mouthed. 

In her mind, Scully was trying to choreograph the next few moments. It 
was going to take timing, but Mulder's life depended on it. Afraid 
that Cliper was going to fire the minute she opened the door, she 
psyched herself up to push Mulder to the ground the instant she saw 
him. 

She turned the knob and opened the door, only to be yanked by the arm 
and shoved roughly to the ground. The heavy weight that fell on her 
crushed her, knocking the wind out of her. 

As she struggled for air, she heard the shots. The weight that covered 
her jerked once and lay still. 

The SOB had shot a defenseless, innocent man. 

She tried to draw air into her shaky lungs, she tried to move from 
under the body of the man who had given his life to protect hers. 
Mulder.  

Then, the weight covering her shifted a little and she looked up into 
the face of her best friend. There was a strange look in his eyes as 
he asked softly, "Are you all right?"  

She was too shaken to speak, but managed to nod her head. He rolled 
off her and winced, holding his previously injured shoulder. 

Still traumatized, she turned to survey the scene of organized chaos, 
which was a moment ago her living room.

It was now teeming with people in FBI windcheaters and paramedics.

Skinner, wearing a Kevlar stood over Cliper, the AD's gun still 
trained on him. She saw Walter Skinner gradually lower his weapon and 
slip on the safety, before re-holstering it. Skinner had no more use 
for it here. 

The would-be-assassin was no danger to anyone now. The pool of blood 
was slowly spreading over her honey-colored, polished wooden floor. 

Their superior rubbed his ribs where Cliper's bullet had struck his 
protective vest. Skinner would have one hell of a bruise there by 
tomorrow, the doctor in her thought. 

Now that the situation was under control, she felt her own control 
slipping. She was not able to draw her eyes away from the scene before 
her, nor to control the tremors that now shook her. 

Her voice shook. "I thought I was going to lose you Mulder." She felt 
her face being turned away from Cliper. Mulder, his hand cupping her 
chin drew her face round so she had to look at him.

The emotion she saw there was both frightening in it's intensity and 
edifying. "I'm not that easy to lose G-woman." He gently touched her 
cheek and ran his fingers across the welt which in all probability was 
already discoloring.

She saw the anger flash in his eyes and understood that if he hadn't 
already been beaten to it, the temptation to kill the man lying on 
Scully's floor would have been overwhelming. It comforted Scully a 
little to see how protective he was of her. But then, she'd have done 
the very same for him. 

Mulder got up gingerly and gently helped her up. Their superior just 
nodded his head.  

Scully could do with a little time and privacy. Mulder appeared aware 
of this as he sympathetically steered her towards her bedroom and shut 
the door on the world outside. 

As he drew her into his arms, she clung to him with a vice-like grip  
and slowly unraveled. He held her in the safety of his arms and let 
her cry it all out.

Her grip on him loosened as her tears subsided. He couldn't help 
dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. Mulder felt just as shaken 
as she was. He had come so close to losing her.

Scully's  breath hitched and she tried to cuff the tears off her 
cheek. He loosened his hold on her and fished in his pocket for a 
handkerchief. Holding her chin up with one hand he carefully wiped her 
face before wrapping his arms around her again and hugging her 
fiercely. 

Finally he held her away, his hands framing her face. "Nice bit of 
double talk that was earlier, Scully, for a while back there I thought 
I'd finally slipped into that parallel universe you're always saying 
I'm in."  

She didn't smile at all. The fear was still in her eyes. He tried to 
shrug out of his own Kevlar vest. Scully had to help him. Mulder led 
her over to her bed, and pulled her down to sit on it beside him. 
"Tell me Scully," he asked her quietly. "Who is he, I don't understand 
how all this fits in?"

Outside, in her living room, Scully was sure that Skinner was 
efficiently organizing the successful closure of the siege situation, 
and beginning the clean-up operation. 

There would be questions to answer, forms to fill, reports to write. 
But that would be later. Right now, all Scully cared about was that it 
was over, her very best friend was safe and she was alive to enjoy 
whatever relationship they allowed each other.  

That moment, when she felt Mulder slump across her, when she thought 
he'd sacrificed his life for her.... No- no, she *couldn't, wouldn't* 
even go down that path.... 

FIN

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'I have laid my dreams beneath your feet; 
Tread softly for you tread on my dreams.'