Stacking Boulders

Note: I am still working on this series, though it's been six years since this last story was posted. So do not despair. it will be finished. Eventually. It's easier now that the show is off the air. I hated so much about those last two years...

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(hey, nobody said it had to be in english)

Taking votes on baby names...girl *and* boy. Send me your suggestions and I'll compile them to tag onto a later story.

Big THANKS to Rhonnda and Elizabeth, two great correspondents! And *DOUBLE* to Stef, for duty above and beyond; The sono scenario was *her* idea, I just fleshed it out...

I rate this R for language and content. MSR, mostly MSA, and *Dancer*. If you haven't read the first seven parts, I give up. You're a lost cause and you shouldn't be here. Shoo! Shoo! Come back when you know what's going on! :)







WALLS#8: Stacking Boulders

--------------------------                

by Saraid

                    

part#1 ------ one on top of another

The clock read 10:08 a.m. when Mulder glanced up from his research to see his stoic, composed, unflappable partner lurch from her chair and dashed out of the office.

Again.

With a sigh he pushed himself away from his desk, opening the second left-hand drawer -- the shallow one where he used to keep his junk food stash -- and pulled a clean washcloth from the pile stacked there, next to the paper cups. He took a cup, too. As he closed the drawer he scraped his raw palm, the one he had roughed with a pumice stone last night, across the edge. The stinging pain was soothing.

The sound of tortured retching hung in the air as he walked into the ladies room. Scully was the only woman on this level and the place was all her's, he wasn't worried about anyone objecting to his presence.

He was worried about Scully.

Leaning on a sink on her elbows she hunched over and tried to catch her breath. He saw that she hadn't turned on the water this time. Her hair hung limply around her face. Stepping up behind her he brushed it back with gentle fingers, leaned to turn on the tap, then put an arm around her waist as another spasm racked her slender frame.

Wetting the cloth in the next sink, Mulder folded it and lay it across the back of her neck, then held her quietly while she finished, setting the cup on the edge where she could reach it.

After a while -- he wasn't sure if it had been ten minutes or twenty -- she rinsed her mouth several times and then straightened. She swayed and he pulled her close, then simply lifted her in his arms, cradling her to his chest.

"Put me down." she said, but there was no fight in it. She lay against him, eyes closed.

"Enough's enough Scully." it came out harsher then he'd intended and he deliberately softened it. "Dr.Hall said to take you to the ER if this happened again. You haven't kept anything down in two days. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No!" she struggled in earnest and he set her carefully on her feet, stepping away from her, watching worriedly as she fought for balance. "I can do my job, Mulder!" she hissed, irrationally angry with him.

"Which one?!" he yelled suddenly. "FBI agent or mother, Scully?" he continued with a whisper, so soft after the outburst. "Which one are you today?"

Shocked, she stared at him, tears filling her eyes. He saw and made an unconscious promise to punish himself for them.

*Damn hormones* Scully thought, wiping her eyes roughly. But his words hurt.

He met her stare and she forgave him when she saw the pain in his eyes, a pain she recognized. He was trying so hard, this was so hard for him, and she wasn't making it any easier.

"You were up all night again." his anger always faded quickly, unless it was directed at himself.

She managed a sickly smile, holding out a hand. He took it and they began walking slowly down the hall.

"Okay." she gave in gracefully., knowing this was hurting him far worse than it hurt her. And he *was* right. Darn it. "I'll call Dr.Hall while you call Skinner."

His grimace made it almost worthwhile.

"Dancer's apartment-hunting." Mulder said flatly into the phone. "He doesn't have a cellular yet."

On hold with the doctor, Scully watched his face twist.

"I'll take very good care of her, sir."

He hung the phone up with exaggerated gentleness, as if he was afraid he would slam it. Scully was going to say something when the secretary came back on.

"Dr.Hall says you should go to Cedar and ask for Dr.Valdez in the ER. He'll be expecting you and she'll be there after office hours."

"I'll get the car." Mulder got up, grabbing his jacket and slinging it on. "Meet me in back."

He left while she quizzed the secretary.

"After office hours? How long will I be there....?"



Cedar was better organized than any ER Mulder had ever been in. They were waiting for Scully, had the paperwork done and a room set aside for her. Good thing, too, because she made him pull over twice in the twenty-minute drive so she could hurl hanging out the door. It was starting to hurt, too, he could tell. She had that 'I'm-not-going-to-bend-over-no-matter-how-bad- it-hurts' posture that he'd used so many times.

"Are you the husband?" a small black nurse stepped in front of him as another woman wheeled Scully down the hall.

"We're not married." he summoned his warmest little-boy grin. As usual, it worked.

"Give us a few minutes to get her changed and then you can come in."

"I'll make a couple of phone calls." he pulled out his cel phone and dialed the office. Dancer should check in soon, he needed to be here to keep their cover.

He held her hand while they got the IV started. She was so dehydrated it took four tries, and she winced a little more with each.

The doctor came and went, it seemed like he was just passing through.

"We'll get some fluids into you and try you on a couple of new anti-nausea medications." he checked the chart and scarcely looked at Scully. Mulder flushed with anger but Scully kept her eyes closed. She was so tired. She didn't ask him any questions or anything, just rolled over for the shot and clutched Mulder's hand.    

Fifteen minutes later she opened her eyes and smiled faintly at him.

Sitting on the bed beside her, he leaned close, his lips in her hair.

"This is better." he half-scolded.

"I'll never admit it." she closed her eyes again and sighed deeply, wishing he would hold her. She was cold and felt exposed, vulnerable.

"Mulder." she sighed, pulling her hand from his and wrapping it in is shirt front. "I'm cold..."

He stiffened and began to pull away, she could feel his reluctance. He hadn't *touched* her since they found out three weeks ago.

It was starting to piss her off.

"*Mulder*..." she opened her eyes and there was a threat in her voice.

"Dana! Honey!"

Mulder hopped off the bed as soon as he heard the cheerful voice, Scully releasing him resentfully as Dancer bounded into the room, as usual using far more energy than the action required, the petite black nurse hot on his heels.

"Only immediate family allowed, *sir*!"

"I'm the father!" Ru was by the bed, leaning over, pulling Scully into his arms as he sat. She snuggled close with a grin at Mulder, who shrugged. The short man was so warm...smoothing her hair, he held her.

The nurse glared at Mulder, who didn't care enough to try the grin that might have saved him.

"So who are you?" the words dripped menace.

"Her partner." he shrugged again, leaning against the wall. Experimentally he thumped his head once, softly. He turned his attention back to Dancer as the nurse glared, unsure how to deal with the situation. "Hey." Dancer smiled at him, understanding in his eyes. "Flamenco Fred. I'm headed back to the office. I'm gonna call Margaret and I'll see you tonight."

"No." Scully's voice was muffled against Dancer's thick chest. "Not my mom. I don't want her to worry."

"You're going to have to tell her eventually, Dana." Dancer stroked her hair.

"Not yet." she said insistently and Dancer shrugged at Mulder.

"Soon." Mulder warned.

"I found a place." Dancer said as he left, speaking to his back. "We'll talk about it tonight. Get in early, Mulder!"

Mulder didn't answer and the little nurse watched him all the way to the door.

A note on the office door said that Skinner wanted to see him. In the elevator he did a quick mental review -- the last field report was in, the expense account signed off -- must be a case. Or the AD just felt like yelling at him.

The prospect cheered him disproportionately.

"Agent Mulder." Skinner didn't stand when he came in, a good sign. "How is Agent Scully?"

He wouldn't have called him up here just for that.

"I left the hospital after Agent Dancer arrived, sir. She seemed to be resting comfortably."

"The baby is in no danger?" Skinner was actually concerned.

"I'm under the impression it's just really bad morning sickness." Mulder said calmly. "The doctor says it will stop eventually."

"I'm considering changing her schedule." Skinner shoved a closed file across the desk. "I'm not comfortable, Agent Mulder, with Agent Scully doing field work at this time. As her department head, what is your assessment?"

Mulder answered immediately.

"I agree, sir."

"This case in particular I find disturbing." Skinner added.

Their eyes met and each saw understanding in the other's.

"I will speak with Agent Scully." Skinner said.

"Thank you, sir." Mulder was sincere. Skinner took another file off the stack. Mulder left, skimming the file as he walked, grimacing.

No, this *wasn't* a good one for Scully. Not now.



He let himself into the apartment quietly. He knew Dancer would hear him either way, but he didn't want to wake Scully if she was sleeping.

With a sudden thought he didn't allow himself to finish he stopped with the door half open and looked back and up to the sky, searching for the moon.

Almost hidden by thick grey clouds, it shone dimly, its shape full but irregular.

Hunter's moon. He would have to stay the night.

damn. Scully didn't need him around now. He was too strung out, too tense, anticipating the fight he knew they were going to have tomorrow, and his body was aching to be close to hers.

He went in and looked around. The friendly room seemed dark, and not from a lack of light.

It also seemed to be empty.

Dancer wouldn't have left her alone...

"*Mulder*." he turned quickly and the dark man was there, in front of him though he saw no movement. "*Where have you been*?" his normally soft voice was low and harsh.

"I'm sorry." Mulder was careful to keep his hands where Dancer could see them, he looked just a little bit crazy. It *could* have been the light. "I forgot..." to check the moon? That you needed to go out? What exactly was he supposed to say here?

"*Right*" Dancer drawled. There was a flicker of humor in his glittering eyes, eyes that seemed very yellow right now, especially when compared to their usual placid brown-black.

It must be the light.

"She said to tell you to come to bed." the shorter man flowed past him like water. "Look at the apartment tomorrow -- I left the ad on the table." he reached the door and went around it like a shadow, gone into the night. Mulder listened but didn't hear anything on the usually noisy stairs.

Not that he expected to.

With an effort he pushed Dancer's eccentricities (uh-huh. right) out of his mind, locking up and creeping into the bedroom.

She was curled around a pillow, a shaft of light from the bathroom falling across her face, her hair deep red in the shadow, still looking a little bit pale.

He considered going back and sleeping on the couch, but part of him rebelled.

It was okay. He could handle it.

Telling himself that he stripped to his boxers, then went for a shower. The nausea had made her over-sensitive to smells and it had been a long day.

She came into his arms with sleepy eagerness, pressing herself to him.

"Shhh...Scully." he whispered against her neck, holding her tightly. "You need to rest."

"Mmmm. Mulder." she sighed and relaxed in his arms, back to sleep.

He held her and watched her sleep. And chewed a neat little hole in the middle knuckle of his right first finger, meditatively licking the blood as it slowly oozed.

It helped.

Mulder rolled over and was out of bed with a lunge, abandoning her warmth, reaching blindly for his clothes.

"Mulder?" she was awake, but sleepy and confused.

"I'm late!" he said pulling on pants and shoes.

"Wait for me." she sat up too quickly and groaned. He dropped his shirt and came around the bed to sit beside her.

"Isn't it Saturday?" she managed, looking distinctly green.

Oh. Yeah. "Where'd you put the new meds?"

"Kitchen. By the sink." she whispered. "Ohhh...." he pulled away as she ran for the bathroom.

He got the two brown bottles from the kitchen, nuking a cup of the herbal tea Dr.Hall had recommended. He didn't see Dancer and briefly hoped the other man hadn't gotten into any trouble.

The shower was running. Good. That would make her feel better. He hoped Dancer got back soon, he didn't want to leave her alone, but he had to do the background on this case and catch a flight this afternoon. They were expecting him in San Antonio by 5.



"Want to go look at that place Ru found?" she asked him an hour later as they got into the car. The medicine had kicked right in. She still looked pale but she'd had a cup of tea and a piece of toast with jam that seemed to be sitting well on her stomach.

She looked so fragile in the plain black pantsuit that he had to fight the urge to carry her back up and put her to bed. Telling her about the case was out of the question.

Maybe he could distract her and then she'd go home and rest. He could get the background on the plane.

"Where is it?" he pulled into the morning traffic.

"East forty-second." her tone made it clear she didn't know where that was.

"Warehouse district." Mulder groaned inwardly. "By the docks."

She shook her head. "Never mind. I'm not raising a child over there." she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, her lids almost translucent.

They were never going to find a place for all of them.

"Did he say anything else about it?" Mulder got on the freeway, remembering which exit he would have to take.

"He said it was almost perfect." she didn't open her eyes.

"Than maybe we should give it a chance." he reached for his phone. "It can't hurt to look. What was that number?"



"It's big." he commented forty-five minutes later, standing in the living room of the apartment. It ran the length of a converted warehouse, one long apartment on each side of a central hall, stairs at one end, freight elevator at the other. Five stories, this was on the top.

"Two bedrooms, two bath and a den." the rental company had sent Mr. Schuerman over promptly. "Room for a family."

"What's this about 'artist space'?" Scully consulted the description sheet he had given her.

"It's over here." Schuerman, an average fellow in every way, led them down the hall. There were three doors on the left and two on the right, with one more at the very end of the hall that opened to a cramped staircase. "It was converted to two apartments originally but we had trouble keeping the top one rented. So when they both came empty at the same time we decided to offer them together."

Mulder hovered as Scully climbed the steep stairs to come out in another long room, this one empty, about one-third the size of the one below. It had skylights over half the length of the slanted ceiling that let in pale light, a small kitchen space on the far left and a wall with two doors at the other end.

"Bathroom and closet." Schuerman nodded at them.

"Where does that go?" Mulder pointed to the door in the middle of the kitchen.

"Roof access." Schuerman led them over and opened it with a key from his crowded ring. "The elevator comes all the way up, too, and opens directly to the roof. The view is nice." he said as they stepped out onto the tar surface. "There's plenty of room for a garden, if you like that sort of thing."

Scully looked reluctant, but Mulder went eagerly to the brick retaining wall -- chest high -- and looked over it. There was a lot of space between the side of the loft and the wall, enclosed on three sides.

"Look, Scully." he was getting excited in spite of himself. "We could put a fence up across there --" he indicated the open end "--and have a safe play area. The air is better up here."

She came to stand beside him and stared over the wall that came up to her neck.

"I can see the bay from here." she said softly, leaning against him. He put a hand on her back, uncomfortable with a witness around.

"Ahab would have liked that." his voice was soft now.

"There aren't any kids around to play with."

"He'll be in daycare and then preschool. Kids will sleep over. He'll have plenty of friends." Mulder leaned to whisper in her ear.

"It's too expensive."

Mulder turned to Schuerman, who was going through his dayplanner, politely ignoring them.

"We have a -- friend -- who will be moving in with us." Mulder hedged. "Can we get it as two separate places?"

"As long as the lease gets signed."

"So how much is it?"

Schuerman smiled, cheerful. "It's not as bad as you might think. We've had such trouble keeping the place full -- most people don't want to live on this side of town, it's too far away from everything -- so the price has been dropped a couple of times. If you'll sign a two-year lease it'll be even lower." he sounded enthusiastic, and named a figure that made Dana smile.

"We can afford that." she said, turning away from him, looking at Mulder. "I guess we should take it. We haven't found anything else even close to what we need."

"It would be good to move before I have to roll you up the stairs." he grinned back.

"Not to be nosy, but are the two of you expecting?" Schuerman grinned wider. "Congratulations!"

Mulder's smile vanished.

"No." he snapped. Scully shook her head and smiled to reassure the man, who looked bewildered.

"Yes, I'm going to have a baby, but Mulder is my partner, Mr.Schuerman. We're FBI agents. My...*boyfriend* is another agent. But I want to be close to Mulder because he's gone a lot."

"So I can help out." Mulder said defensively.

Schuerman looked at them, one to the other.

"Of course. That's very dedicated of you, Agent Mulder."

FBI agents. He hoped they didn't cause any trouble. But they should pass the credit check...he smiled again, thinking of his percentage, he would get it as long as they lived there. His wife, Emily, would be thrilled. Maybe they could go on that cruise now...?

He led them back downstairs to do the paperwork. Watching the tall man's hand hover protectively on the tiny woman's back, he wondered how much of what they had said was true, then scolded himself mentally. They were partners, he knew what that meant. He watched NYPD Blue. They might be closer than husband and wife, but they would never be anything *else*. It was obvious her partner was as excited about the baby as she was, but that was just because he wanted her to be happy, of course.

That was a lucky baby, to have so many people to love it, he thought. There would always be somebody around for it.

"My doctor has cleared me for field work. *Sir*." Scully was leaning over Skinner's desk, looking much more threatening than a woman her size had a right to. Her stern boss leaned back almost involuntarily.

"I thought to spare you the emotional trauma of this case, Agent Scully." he tried to defend his decision.

"Perhaps I should only involve myself in cases concerning men." she snapped. "And I'll have to rule out the ones with short people. And redheads -- I couldn't handle a case with a redhead, could I?!" her voice never changed volume but Skinner felt like he'd been yelled at.

"Unless you plan to replace me as Mulder's partner -- a move I *would* protest formally -- then I'm on this case!" she whirled on one foot and stormed out of the office without a backward glance.

Skinner leaned forward on the desk for a minute, then opened the top drawer and fumbled for the tylenol bottle.

God, she'd sounded like Mulder.

He found himself smiling slightly despite the pain of his headache.

Mulder was going to get it.

He felt better already.

"MULDER!" the basement office door slammed.

He winced and dropped the needle he'd been playing with into the open drawer, slamming it shut as she came up behind him.

Now she *was* yelling.

"Where do you get off? Trying to *protect* me again?!"      

He yanked his sleeve down to cover his wrist, dotted with tiny beads of blood in an aesthetic pattern, and handed her the file without a word. He'd known she wasn't going to be left out, not really, but maybe he could salvage something... distracted, she opened it and blanched a shade paler. He wouldn't've thought that was possible.  

The first picture was an 8X10 of a tiny little girl, looking *unfinished*, waxy-looking skin lined with neat sutures, lying on a white blanket in a patch of tall, purple-flowered weeds. Somebody had laid a plain blue spiral notebook beside her for scale. She wasn't even that long.

Scully's hand trembled as she flipped the pictures.

Seven. There were seven in all.

Mulder was standing beside her now, ready to catch her if she did something stupid like faint, and she couldn't meet his eyes for several minutes.

"Yes." he said at last, softly. "I am trying to protect you."

"It's my job." she wasn't angry now. "Tell me about it." she pulled her desk chair over and sat close, the file open in her lap.

"Seven fetuses between five and seven months along, found over the last three weeks. All delivered vaginally judging from the cranial molding and lung compression. All apparently born dead. It's obvious that autopsies were performed, but the organs were returned to the body cavities. They were all found wrapped in a plain white hospital blanket in different urban areas around the city."     

She cringed.

"So why is it an X-file?"

"There have been reports of strange lights, strange noises all over the city, some coinciding with the discovery of the bodies. No one had come forward to claim them and no kidnapping reports have been filed. There have been three late pregnancy miscarriages delivered in the city hospitals, but all of those infants have been properly delivered to the morgue and their families have made the appropriate arrangements."

He leaned close, taking her hands in his, trying to put all of his love into words not strong enough to hold it.

"*Dana*. Let me handle this. I'll send you the lab work, consult with you, I won't cut you out completely. But you're still not feeling well. And we have to move, we've given notice, you have the sono next week. I'll be okay, I don't think this one is dangerous."

"For you." she looked shaken. She was starting to think like him. "You think it's a set-up. To get me and this baby where they can do something to us."

"Maybe. We still don't know who our enemies are, or how far they will go." he leaned closer to her, close enough to kiss her...but of course he didn't. His voice dropped, became intimate. "And there's another thing. When I was seven...my parents *went* to San Antonio, Scully. They left me with at a friend's house. And I think Mom came back pregnant."

Her indrawn breath echoed his.

Could this have something to do with him personally? With Samantha?

"Just let me go and look around." he nuzzled her cheek, his big nose soft on her skin. "If there's any danger I'll call you. I need to do this one by myself."      The door behind them opened and Mulder leaned back reflexively. Dancer, looking tired, glided in, his grin firmly in place.

"Don't mind me." he perched on the edge of Mulder's desk. "Carry on. I'll take notes."

Scully let out an exasperated snort and Mulder gave him a shove. Dammmit, the man even *fell* gracefully.

"So how did you like the place?" Dancer asked from the floor.

"We took it." Mulder was glad to change the subject and Scully knew it. "You can send for your stuff now."

Dancer stood, one hand on Scully's shoulder.

"Mulder, I don't have any 'stuff'."

Scully looked at him, startled.

"Nothing?"

He grinned widely.

"I take it back. I have about a dozen boxes of books at my sister's place."

"No furniture." Scully wasn't questioning.

"My last place was furnished, right down to the plates." he shrugged easily. "I'm not really a material person."

*Not really a 'person'*, Mulder thought, allowing a brief grin that Dancer returned.

"I have some money in the bank." Dancer misinterpreted Scully's frown as she glanced at Mulder suspiciously. "I can get whatever we need."

"You can have my bed." Mulder clenched his fist in his lap, leaning into the fresh pain, unnoticed. "I won't have a bedroom. I think it's time to admit I don't need one."

Scully's frown was deepening.

"We need to talk about money, Ru. How are we going to divide things? I don't want you to feel responsible for me..."

"Hey, hey." he held up his hands. "Chill. It's just money, Dana. I don't care."

"Are we going to divide it by two or three?" she was insistent. The men exchanged glances  -- she was going to upset herself.

"Scully." Mulder's voice was matter-of-fact but his eyes were warm and soft meeting hers. "Let's talk about this over lunch."

His glance around the room reminded her that someone might be listening and she understood. Their secret was a delicate thing, easily revealed accidently. She hated watching her words.

"Did you get some breakfast?" Dancer interpreted the exchange and decided to play his role, sounding worried.

"Mulder fed me."

"But you need to take your medicine and eat again." he said, reaching for her briefcase. "We can discuss personal finances over an early lunch."

As they were going out the door he continued, an arm loose around her waist, Mulder trailing behind.

"This baby is going to have the best of everything, Dana, you know I'll get you everything he needs..."

Lunch was pasta at Giovanni's, Scully's choice.

"I *need* garlic." she'd insisted, and so she had scampi alfredo, and actually ate it.

"I'll pay the rent on the big one." Dancer said as she scribbled in her notebook, charts and graphs and columns of figures. Mulder was quietly crumbling a breadstick onto a napkin.

"But that's almost $400 more than the bills will be." she objected. His grin was beginning to annoy her.

"But *you* will pay them on time. It's worth the difference."

"Then you have to take the master bedroom."

"You're gonna want the private bath." he came back, enjoying himself.

Mulder picked up another breadstick and began plucking off the sesame seeds one by one, piling them on top of the napkin dispenser.

"Besides." Dancer kicked him firmly, unexpectedly, under the table. "There's gonna be a crowd in your room."

Mulder threw the denuded breadstick at him. It bounced off.

"*Especially* if I have his bed."

He was grinning like an idiot again.

"C'mon, Scully." he wheedled like a little boy, and he was even better at it than Mulder. "This is the closest thing I've had to family in years. Let me do it the way I want to."

He didn't say anything personal very often and Scully picked up on it.

"What about you brother and sister, your twin?" she said it softly.

"There aren't enough of us left." his smile faded. "We scattered after Mom died. Da said we needed to spread out..." he didn't finish, just met her eyes and spoke quietly, a touch of pleading. "Don't go there, Scully."

"It's a scary place." Mulder added with an easy grin, reaching for her hand. She knew she was being distracted, but it was so seldom he was openly affectionate that she let him.

"If I don't give him a hard time you'll have to talk to me about that case." she retorted, a gleam in her eye as she rubbed her fingers over his, feeling a roughness on his palm.

"Cool!" Dancer sat back, his grin reasserting itself.

"You stay and get us moved while I go west." lifting her hand, Mulder kissed her fingertips one at a time. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'll send you the autopsy reports and lab work to go over."

"You cheat." the accusation was soft.

"I know." he put her hand down and stood. "Deal?"

She looked up at him. He seemed so far away. His resolve -- to protect her, to protect their baby, to prove himself -- was so clear in his eyes. But there was something else there, too, something she hadn't seen before. A new level of sadness.

She caught Dancer's grimace out of the corner of her eye.

*Demons*.

And they had to be fought alone.

"I'll go home and start packing." she gave in with a smile.

"Don't forget my videos.' his grin was suddenly his own again, and then he left.

They watched him go with similar expressions, then Dancer stood and offered her his hand.

"Packing." he snorted.

"Yeah."

"I can think of better ways to spend a Saturday."

"So can I." her agreement was sad.

*He really loves you*. Dancer's eyes told her as they got into his car.

*I know*. She didn't have to answer aloud.



"Agent Mulder?" the tall brunette with legs to die for approached him as soon as he cleared the gate. "I'm Sandra Rodriguez. Roddy."

He shook her hand, allowing himself a minute to admire. She returned it just as obviously.

"Is your partner coming?" Roddy, as she had told him to call her, was definitely interested as they got into the car, yet another Taurus, this one green.

She'd heard the stories and wanted a shot at Spooky Mulder. Rumor had it that he was worth the effort.

"Scully's a trifle indisposed just now."

"Oh?" she pulled into traffic dominated by pickup trucks.

"Morning sickness."

"How nice for her!" she sounded genuinely pleased. "When is she due?"

"Sometime in December." he wondered how much of her cheer was because she thought that meant he was available. His rumored relationship with Scully had often protected him from women in the past. But she had sounded sincere. "She and Agent Dancer are very excited."

It still surprised him how easy it was to say that. Shouldn't it at least bother him that another man was claiming his child?

Roddy turned her eyes to him  again, taking a longer look this time. He needed to say something, self-defense.

"So what have you got?" the words were normal but his voice was twenty degrees colder. She blinked. What had she said?

Well, she had been warned. Spooky Mulder was *weird*.

"How's the moving going?" his call that night was a welcome break.

"Not bad. Ru works like a dog, Mulder.'

In his hotel room Mulder smothered a laugh.

"Mulder? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Scully." he said, and meant it just about as much as she ever did. "How are you feeling?"

"Both of us are fine." she was teasing him now, gently. A sudden, sharp wash of happiness flooded him. "We should have everything packed by noon tomorrow, that's when the moving guys get here."

"Big burly guys in overalls? Oooo, Scully."

"I may as well get it while I can. Pretty soon I'll be too big to turn anyone's head."

"My head will spin just for you." he promised solemnly. "Did you get the paperwork?"

"I'll go over it in bed." she answered, then he winced as she shouted. "Ru! Put me down..." she pulled the phone from her ear and he didn't hear the rest.

"Scully?" he wanted to say something sweet, something loving, but her phone was probably tapped...and he didn't know how anyways. "I'm going to let you go now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Mulder? What -?" she came back on the line just in time to hear it click.

"Bye." she stared at the receiver in her hand. Beside her Ru grimaced and took a step back.

"Uh...sorry?"

"You big jerk." she said it so affectionately he knew he wasn't in real trouble.

The knock on the door startled both of them. With a glance he turned and ducked into the kitchen.

Opening the door Dana forced a smile.

"Mom. What are you doing here?"

Margaret Scully looked past her daughter to the mess of stacked household items and open boxes.

"Dana?" she sounded doubtful. "Are you moving?"

Her daughter sighed. She hadn't talked to her mother since she found out...what was she going to tell her...and *how*?

"Come on in." she led her to a recently emptied chair and sat on the arm beside her. Ru stayed in the kitchen, making packing noises. "I'm sorry I haven't called in a while. There've been some things going on..."

Cool in a linen suit, calm and strong, Margaret studied her daughter's face, their blue eyes a perfect match. To hers Dana looked tired and pale and thin.

"What's wrong?" she could feel something tugging at her intuition, but wanted Dana to tell her.

"I'm pregnant." Dana's smile was real and Margaret relaxed. She was happy about it, so it was okay.

"That's wonderful, dear. So you're moving?" it took a tremendous effort not to ask the question, the one uppermost on her mind, but Captain Scully's wife had long experience minding her tongue. Dana would tell her when she was ready.

A movement caught her eye as a man stepped into the hall. His body blocked part of the light, putting his face in shadow and Margaret dared to hope, hope that was quickly dashed as the man came closer. Too short, too blocky, the walk was wrong, cocky.

This wasn't Fox.

Dana stood with a soft smile and took the tray Dancer offered her, setting it on the coffee table.

"Mom. This is Ruarke Dancer. Ru, this is my mom, Margaret Scully. Ru's going to be my new roommate."

Aware of Dana's hesitancy, Margaret stood and offered her hand. She got an impression of dark hair, restrained strength, and big gentle eyes.

His hand was warm and large and heavily calloused.

"I'm glad to meet you, *Ru*?" she fumbled over the name. "Where do you know Dana from?"

Dana calmly poured tea, passing her a cup and smiling as Dancer shook his head.

They sat again, Dancer on the sofa beside Dana, his hand on her knee.

"We met at that conference a couple of months ago." His cheerfulness was a pleasant change. "I'm another *federale*. As soon as Dana told me the news I transferred up here from LA."

California. That explained the tan.

No one spoke and the silence became awkward. Margaret watched the couple. Ru was at ease, smiling, but Dana seemed uncomfortable.

"Dana." her words were soft and filled with love. "I'm not upset about this, you know. Truly. I've always known you wanted children." their eyes met and Margaret smiled. "I'm ready to be 'granny' again. Bill Junior is so far away I'm hardly a part of Billy and Sue's lives."

"We'll be right here, Mom." Dana was trying not to cry. she'd been so worried that her mother would be disappointed in her. That weight lifted now, and Dancer squeezed her knee, understanding.

"I know it's getting late, but we could run that load in the car over and show your mom the new place." he suggested. His grin was irresistible.

"You're haven't been carrying boxes?" Margaret's voice took on a familiar scolding tone.

"My department." Dancer hopped up and heaved a large box strapped with ductape into his arms. The door was shut, but he balanced precariously on one foot to turn the knob with the toes of the other, letting himself out.

Margaret watched her daughter.

"He's very sweet, Dana."

"Ru's one of a kind." Dana's smile seemed forced again. They got up and she stopped her mother, giving her a brief hug. Surprised at this from her aloof child, Margaret began to worry again.

"I need to tell you something about the apartment, Mom..." Dana said as they went out the door.



*Damn*.

Mulder raised his hand to throw his notebook but restrained himself, lying it gently on the table instead.

Roddy and her partner hadn't arrived yet, he'd wanted to get here early. Scully was going to be calling to tele-conference.

But he wanted to talk to her first.

But he didn't know what he wanted to say.

*Fuck it*.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

"Scully." she answered first ring, sounding good this morning. The new medicine was really making a difference.

"Did you go over the data?" he was all business.

Sitting at her desk in the half-empty apartment Scully sighed. "I'm fine, Mulder, and how are you?"

"You sound rested." there was something in his voice she didn't recognize.   

Roddy and Drew Smith walked in at that moment, rescuing him.

"Let me put you on hold for a minute, Scully." he said and then did it before she could protest.

"Morning." Smith was surly. He didn't appreciate Mulder's presence, felt it was a criticism of his methods. Roddy was friendly enough, but her interest of the day before was gone. He'd taken care of that last night when she'd driven him to the hotel, he'd been rude and distinctly unfriendly.

And dow he was going to pay for it. She didn't even greet him, just sat down and opened her file.

"Is Agent Scully on the line?" her tone implied incompetence on his part.

"Scully." he hit the speaker button and spoke her name.

"I'm here, Mulder."

"Agents Smith and Rodriguez are with me. What have you found out?"

Setting herself to business Scully spoke dispassionately.

"Aside from the fact that the bodies were autopsied prior to recovery, which we already knew, the most interesting item is the state of the infant brains." it was hard to remain detached but she was an expert at it. "The local pathologist, Dr. Hoover, didn't think it was significant, but I've gone over all the reports several times and correlated the data and the similarities are striking."

"You're talking about the frontal lobe discrepancy." Roddy sounded bored. Scully wondered what Mulder had done this time.

"That was dismissed as a fluke. It was only found in three of the fetuses."

"I found it in all of them." Scully spoke firmly. "It was originally found in the three seven-month fetuses. Hoover didn't factor in the prenatal age. I projected the rate-of-growth for the other four infants up to the seventh month and believe that the discrepancy would be as marked in them at that time as it was in the three older ones."

Roddy was sitting up, looking interested in spite of herself.

"What could cause that?" she asked.

"I don't know of any substance that would cause extreme brain growth during prenatal development." Scully answered. "And this is extreme. The right frontal lobe is nearly three times the size of normal. There is no disease, no maternal infection that I know of that would cause this result. I couldn't find a single report of anything remotely like this and I searched the archives back thirty years."

"What would it do to the babies, Scully?" Mulder asked suddenly, jumping ahead of her. "If a child survived to term with that deformity, what would it do to them?"

"That's highly unlikely, Agent Mulder." Smith rebuked him. "We wouldn't be finding them dead if that could happen."

Scully answered him seriously.

"The area affected controls speech, logic and reasoning skills. It has been theorized that it is the area responsible for quirks of intelligence like yours, Mulder, the home of eidetic memory. If someone were born with that part of the brain this disproportionate, they would have the potential to be brilliant, perhaps beyond anything we've ever known. Or they could be non functional in the extreme, unable to cope with the level of information they get. Or it might not make a difference at all, just more dead space."

"A superman." Roddy shook her head. "That's science fiction, Agent Scully."

"I'm only theorizing." Scully said quietly.

Mulder was thinking. Brilliant. Beyond human. His childhood love of science fiction prompted the next question.

"Scully. If humanity as a race was going to develop telepathy, where would it start?"

Smith groaned aloud and Roddy shook her head again. *Spooky* indeed.

"The odds against that are so phenomenal I wouldn't know where to start." Scully scolded gently.

"Could it start there?" he pressed.

"It is one of the places such an evolution has been speculated could occur." she didn't say no. She'd seen so many impossible things, this didn't seem so far-fetched as it once might have.

"You found no evidence of drugs or other unknown substances in the bloodwork." Smith decided it was time to take control of the conversation.

"None. Neither did Hoover."

"And there was nothing to explain the premature deliveries?" Roddy added.

"Aside from the frontal lobe discrepancy, these seemed to be perfectly normal, healthy babies."

Mulder caught the fear in her voice and wished he could talk to her privately, vowing to himself that he would call her that night and they would talk about it. Their baby was fine, he *knew* that.

The meeting was essentially over. He thanked Scully and told her, gently, to get some rest, seeing Roddy watching him out of the corner of her eye, hoping she wasn't getting more ideas.

"So what now?" Smith asked when Scully was off the line.

"I'm going to investigate the reports of lights and sightings." Mulder said shortly.

"That's bullshit." Smith snorted. "No little green men stole those babies."

"They're grey." Mulder looked up in surprise as Roddy defended him, met his eyes with a smile. Oh, hell. She liked him again.

"I am aware of the -- remoteness of this hypothesis." Mulder said sharply. "So I suggest you begin an investigation of research facilities in the area, particularly ones dealing with infertility or genetics."

"Yes." Roddy seemed surprised. "That would make sense."

Meaning his theory didn't. That was okay, he didn't want any help anyhow.

"We'll meet you downtown for dinner at eight, okay?" Roddy was smiling at him again. "Jacala's. Mexican food. You'll like it and it's easy to find."

He left without answering her.

It had been a long, frustrating day. Uncooperative witnesses, witnesses with no memory to speak of and conflicting reports of what was seen. Typical.

Sitting in his hotel room in the dark, Mulder glanced at the clock. 9:23. He wasn't going to make dinner and Roddy would be pissed. Enough to leave him alone, he hoped.

The cigarette glowed, a bright spot in the dark, the orange of Halloween. The drag filled his lungs, made him choke, and it glowed brighter.

Three agonizing holes. Deep and red, in a neat triangle.

Burns were good because they didn't bleed much, hurt a lot and took a long time to heal, especially if you irritated them regularly.

He pulled his shirt sleeve down without bandaging them, wincing, stubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe.

Even better if they got infected.  

He looked at the phone. His mind replayed Scully's voice from the morning, the fear he'd heard even clearer in his memory.

He'd told himself he would call her. If he didn't call her she would call him.

He couldn't talk to her now. He'd proven again how unworthy he was, snapping at her and pushing her away. Someday she was going to realize it and she would be gone, his baby with her.

Better never to have them. He couldn't protect, them couldn't help them, couldn't even claim them.

He would become his father *now*, before he had a chance to hurt anyone. Before they got close enough for him to leave them.

The baby would never know the pain he had felt when his father rejected him, because the baby would never know him.

It was easy to think these thoughts, in this dark room, his arm aching.

"Agent Mulder!" Roddy called to him as he walked in, after ten Monday morning. "Your partner called. She wants to talk to you."

He looked bleary-eyed and rumpled. She made a face.

"I see you found something else to do last night. Don't worry, I won't try again." she turned her back on him.

Smith was waiting in the cubicle they had assigned him. There was a *huge* pile of folders and files on the battered desk.

"Here's your *data*." he sneered. "Have fun."

He left with a malicious grin.

Mulder closed the door and sat down.

His cel phone was turned off. With a hard movement he yanked the receiver off the phone and turned it upside down to keep it from beeping.

His original theory wasn't panning out. So now he would have to work on the other one.

He opened a file and began to read. One hand slipped into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds, set them up and to the right, and he popped one into his mouth distractedly.

Crunch. Warm and salty, just like blood.

"Has he gone out?" he heard Roddy's voice outside the door, but not the answer. He ignored it, just as he ignored the time.

He read for thirteen hours, and no one bothered him.

No one offered him coffee or suggested he eat.

But that was okay. He hadn't called Scully, he didn't *deserve* to eat.

"Damn him!" Dana slammed the phone down for the tenth time. On the other side of the loft Ru stopped piling Mulder's boxes into the storage room and loped to her.

"Dana?" he stopped as he got close, watching her carefully.

"He is such an *asshole*." she hissed. "I know he's not happy about the baby, I *know* he's afraid he'll turn into his father, but he *can't* cut me out of a case like this!" she was shouting now. Ru took a step closer, held out a hand.

"It's late." he said softly. "Let's go down and get some sleep. I finished putting up your bed hours ago."

She recoiled but he stood patiently, hand in midair, smiling gently.

"I'm going to hate him." she said simply. "I love him, but I can see that I'm going to hate him. Maybe he's right..." she sounded defeated.

"You didn't eat much dinner." he was still speaking softly. "Why don't I go out and get you something Italian? With lots of garlic."

"Nah..." she smiled, small and tired, but a smile. "I've had this feeling all day, that I wanted something, but I don't know what it is..."

"Rest." he teased. "You need to *rest*."

She shook her head. "I'm used to being tired."

"Not like this."

He took her hand and she let him lead her down the narrow stairs.

The lower apartment looked like a scene from the movie 'Twister'. Dana groaned as she slumped on the sofa.

"Don't you need to run tonight?"

"I can skip a night, once in a while."

Ru sat carefully beside her. He didn't want to step over any lines, but she looked so miserable...he picked up the remote and channel surfed, stopping at a flash of black-and-white.

"The Maltese Falcon! This is my second all-time favorite movie." he declared, leaning back. She looked at him, surprised.

"I wouldn't have figured you as a Bogie fan."

"What? You thought I was the Lon Chaney Jr type?" his grin was infectious and she had to chuckle. It was a relief just to sit and rest, and she leaned back as well and they watched the movie.

It was a marathon. Next was 'The African Queen' and then the topper, 'Casablanca'. Halfway through African Queen Scully sat up.

"I'm too tired to sleep."

"It's not like we anywhere have to go in in the morning." he pointed out. They had three days' leave to move.

"I've figured out what I want." she was grinning at him, confident. He was almost afraid to ask.

"What?"

"*Twinkies*. And Ding Dongs. And Hostess Cupcakes..."

His eyes grew comically round.

"Dana! All that junk food..." he scolded as he got up and padded to the door, barefoot in T-shirt and cutoffs. "I'll be right back."

"And Kool-Aide. They won't taste right without Kool-Aide!" she called after him, and got his loud laugh as a reply.

She woke the next morning still on the sofa. Ru was sitting beside her and she was leaning on him, her head on his chest. His arm was around her and a blanket was over her, carefully folded away from him. He was watching Good Morning America.

She sat up, award. He pulled his arm away without looking at her.

"Did Mulder call?"

"Sorry."

"I think I'll go to bed now." she got up and walked to her bedroom, the big one, trailing the blanket. Behind her Ru curled over on the sofa and closed his eyes, asleep between one breath and the next.

part#2 ------ and a hard place

The room was full of pregnant women. All glowing and smiling and waddling. He couldn't imagine Dana waddling.

The nurse hadn't been happy to see him, but had said she would find a few minutes for the doctor to talk to him. Now he was waiting patiently, arms crossed, the fingers of his right hand rubbing repeatedly over the open burns on the inside of his left arm. So he was calm. Cool. Professional.

Dr.Peterson was offended by his very presence. She quoted him statistics, their success rate, their excellent professional reputation and he listened with one ear as he studied the office and requested the names of patients who had recently lost their babies.

"We haven't had a miscarriage here in six years!" she was infuriated.

With a jolt he realized that he believed her, thanked her, and left her in mid-tirade.

This wasn't working. He was doing something wrong, going at this from the wrong angle. He wished he could talk to Scully about it, but she probably wasn't speaking to him after yesterday.

He almost broke his own neck as he slammed on the brakes, ignoring the horn that blared behind him.

*Or she was on her way here*.

He'd better call her before she *did* get on a plane.

He stopped at the next payphone.

"Scully?"

"Mulder." oh, she was pissed.

"Sorry about yesterday...I got caught up in some research." Like she was going to believe that.

Dana glanced at Ru, who was watching her from the sofa, face behind crossed arms, his eyes glowing over them, predatory. The phone had woken both of them.

"Scully? You sound tired." he hoped she hadn't waited up all night for him to call.

"I just got up, Mulder." let him chew on that. "Did you need something?" the only thing that might save him now was if he asked her to join him.

"I just wanted to tell you that I have everything under control, in case you were worried. You can stay and finish moving."

Jerk.

"I'm pretty much done moving, Mulder."

Ru's eyes caught hers, he raised his head and she saw him whisper.

"*Demons*."

"But I did decide the place needs painting..." why was she letting him off the hook like this? Because Ru said to? How scary was that?

"Not my place." he actually sounded alarmed.

"You're not here to stop me..." she meant it to tease, but it came out like a threat.

"Oh. Okay. Whatever you want, Scully."

Now he sounded like a lost little boy again. Damn.

"How's the case coming?"

He told her all about it. The lack of good witnesses, his second theory and the trouble he was having digging up information, his feeling that he was missing something...she listened and sympathized and critiqued and suggested. Just like she always did. His Scully, all sense and sensibility.

When he got off the phone he felt better, but then his arm began to hurt again and he remembered.

But she'd given him some ideas to work with.

"I am not going to accost pregnant women in front of doctor's offices." his cubicle was small for one person, claustrophobic for three.

Roddy was staring at him. She didn't just think he was crazy, now she thought he was certifiable. Why was this man running around loose?

"*Somebody* gave birth to these babies." Mulder snarled.

"I bet it was *Arnie*. He was doing research for Junior; the sequel." Smith did a creditable Schawerznegger impression.

Mulder ignored him.

"I don't need you on this." he warned Roddy. "I was just giving you a chance to be involved. You back out now and I won't be letting you in on anything I find out."

"Have at." Smith stood and walked to the door. "Roddy?"

She was frowning. Sure, Mulder was a jerk, but he had a high clearance rate. Maybe he was just reacting to working alone...

"Okay, I'll help, but only for one day."

"It may take more than that."

Smith made a sound of disgust and left.

"One day, Mulder." she was firm and he rewarded her with the first real smile she'd seen from  him. It made him damn beautiful. But she'd already decided to drop that idea, and resolved to stay decided.



"What do they do here?" she was wondering what made him suspect this place.

They were on stakeout, in the parking lot of Southwest Research, one of the biggest and most exclusive private genetics research facilities in the country.

"The lead team doctor here, Mr. Antonio Tomas discovered a clever way to detect certain genetic deformities in embryos in the first twelve hours." he explained, crunching a sunflower seed and spitting the shell out the window. "When the egg and sperm meet they split their genetic complement so a baby gets half from each of them..." he glanced to make sure she was following him,

"Everybody knows that." she was irritated.

"And the extra DNA gets sacked up and pushed out the side like leftovers. It's called the 'polar body'. With some diseases, like Cystic Fibrosis, you either have the gene or you don't. If you have it from both parents you get the disease. If you have it from only one you're a carrier and have to face this dilemma when you want to have children. If you don't get either you don't have it and your children won't either."  

"So if the genes for it are in this 'polar body'..." she smiled in understanding.

"Then the fetus doesn't have it. It's a complicated procedure, they have to go through the whole in-vitro mess and the problems with that, but for people who want a kid that's not going to die or need constant medical care, it's a miracle."

"You really are smart." she sounded surprised.

"I read a lot." he blew it off.

"So why are we here?"

"Lots of reasons. They do cutting-edge work, so they're willing to push the limits. A couple of the other team doctors were reportedly unhappy with Tomas getting all the credit but couldn't leave because they're under contract."

"Is that common?" she felt like a student. Teacher's pet, maybe, but still a student. But she *was* learning something.

"Whenever there's the possibility of a new procedure or drug that could be patented, yeah, it's the rule. There have been several lawsuits over supposedly 'stolen' advances in genetic therapy."

"Any more reasons?"

"Several members of the board are wealthy and make regular contributions to certain politicians I keep an eye on, people I know have participated in --" he hesitated, decided not to go into it -- "And most importantly, Tomas made a philanthropic gesture three years ago and began offering his services -- and the clinic's -- free to select lower-income cases. Unfortunately those records are confidential, protected under doctor-patient privaledge and we've got no evidence to get them."

"So we want evidence."

He sat, waiting for her to comment, spitting two more shells out the window.

"If he has low-income clients we should be able to pick them from the rich ones." she said slowly, and he nodded. "And they would be the ones most likely to let him get away with something for lots of reasons...He probably picks them very carefully."

She looked at him suddenly, her eyes wide.

"You're sure about this. Not just guessing, but *sure*."

"Not positive. But if you can see it too, then I can't be far off."

"Wow." he was as good as his record said. He might be nuts, rude, and unfriendly, but he was *good*."

"I guess I can spend a day waiting with you."



"Mulder? How's it going up there?" she'd dialed the number - swearing to herself that she wasn't going to get upset. She missed him, it had been several days. They were almost never apart this long, even before they were lovers.

He sounded more relaxed.

"I have a lead, I'm just waiting for it to pan out." he said. "Roddy's good company on a stakeout. She likes the Stooges."

"Who?"

"An agent on the case. Her partner is less than helpful, but she's a trooper."

Probably tall and brunette, Dana thought, glancing down at herself. She had a little tummy now, a small outward curve in her shape.

"I'm glad you have somebody you can work with." she wished she could say what she wanted to, but he didn't trust phones, and his paranoia was rubbing off.

"Scully, I'm worried about this case. If these people are doing illegal genetic experiments *and* they're connected with other people we both know and love...I'm afraid I'll find out something about what happened -- to you." it was hard for him to even talk about it.

"Not every case can be about me or Samantha, Mulder." she said softly. "If you find any evidence that these guys know what happened to me, great. If not it probably means they weren't involved."

"But those dreams you had...where you were pregnant, while you were in the coma..."

"Were just dreams." she said, telling herself that she believed it, she *had* *to* believe it. "Truly." she projected that desperate certainty into her voice for him to hear.

"It would be so like them to give me this case..." he couldn't let it go.

"Mulder." her voice cut across his thoughts. "If you find something we'll talk about it. Not until then."

"If that's what you want." he wasn't hurt by her statement, relieved, really. These weren't possibilities he was comfortable considering either. So he said the next thing that came to mind.

"I don't think I'll make it back in time for the appointment." matter-of-factly.

"What?!" she hadn't heard him right. He knew how much she wanted him there. Dancer had even found a case he *had* to go take care of out of town to give them an excuse.

"I don't think this is going to wrap up quickly..."

"Give them your lead and get back here!" she shouted into the phone, her words ringing in the silence of the empty office. "They can do the leg work!"

"That wouldn't look...right." he was trying to talk without saying anything incriminating and couldn't. "Scully, you're a big girl. You don't need me there holding your hand."

*Damn you, Mulder*. He was using this situation to dump his responsibility on Ru. She wasn't going to let him do this.

"You'd better get here, Mulder, or you won't like the consequences." it wasn't a threat, but a warning.

"I'll do my best, Scully, but maybe you better talk to Dancer, just in case..."

He didn't tell her that he'd tracked a connection between Tomas and one of the politicos they suspected of being part of Cancer Man's group. A poor mexican immigrant from non-english speaking parents Tomas would have had no chance to get into or afford the prestigious schools he'd attended without influential help, help that had been provided by a private charity that the politico founded. How much influence did they have over him now?

"There's some things about this case..." Mulder hedged. "I need to be here, Scully."

If she hadn't been so mad she might have heard the pleading in his voice. The note of fear, and the desperately unhappy tone that he only took when something had to do with Samantha. Or her abduction. But she was angry, and didn't.

"You're being a real bastard, Mulder." she snarled. "Don't call me unless you change your mind."

She hung up the phone abruptly, and sat looking at it, stunned. Then she started to cry.

Dancer came in a few minutes later, wanting to take her to lunch. Seeing her shoulders shake he held back, waited a few minutes, then finally handed her a tissue from the box on the filing cabinet, and stood beside her quietly.

She didn't want him to see her cry. No one saw her cry.

No one but Mulder. The thought brought fresh tears.

Dancer considered. She wasn't hurting herself, though it bothered him to listen to her stifled sobs. It was probably something she needed to do. So he didn't sooth her or console her, just let her cry it out. When she was done they would go to lunch and talk about it or not, as she wanted.

Mulder was an asshole, he knew that. But he did love her.

Remembering his older brother's divorce, which had hurt Richard deeply, he also knew that love wasn't always enough. His sister- in-law had loved Richard well enough until she learned what her children could be. That had done it, but they never stopped loving each other. Her fear just overrode it.

At least Scully and Mulder didn't have to deal with that.

"She's one." Mulder nodded at her words.     

"Well dressed but she looks uncomfortable in it." he agreed.

The woman in question got into an older Buick and they pulled away to follow her.

She drove to a mall and they got out to follow her in the parking lot, walking quickly. Roddy didn't have to stretch her legs to keep up with him the way Scully did.

"Ma'am. Ma'am!" Mulder called quietly as they approached, and she turned. She looked wary as they stopped in front of her.

Mulder studied her carefully. She was young, late twenties, maybe, and probably pretty when her face wasn't swollen and her eyes red. Had she been crying? What did she have to cry about?

"I'm Agent Fox Mulder and this is Agent Sandra Rodriguez of the FBI." he said gently, holding up his badge clearly. Roddy startled to see this side of him. "We'd like to ask you some questions."

"You're not immigration?" her accent was heavy but she sounded fairly bright.

"We're investigating Dr.Tomas..." Roddy said and the change was remarkable.

"I do not speak about the doctor." the woman said firmly, but she wasn't hostile.

"Que es su nombre?" Rodriguez asked softly.

"Mercedes Garcia." the woman answered uncertainly.

"We just want to ask you a few questions, Mrs.Garcia. You could help us find out what's happened to some babies."

"The ones in the newspaper?" she was curious now.

Mulder nodded, letting Roddy take it. The woman had responded to her.

"I signed a paper saying I wouldn't talk about the doctor or what he does."      

"Would you talk about him if he was doing something bad?"   

The woman glanced around and then looked back at them.

"Dr. Tomas is a gift from God."

"Then we won't ask about the doctor." Mulder said, shaking his head slightly at Roddy when she looked like she was going to object. Scully would have known where he was going and followed up. "Can you tell us about any of the other patients you know in Dr.Tomas's special program?"

"I only know a few."

"Have any of them had their babies recently?" Roddy was glaring at him now.

"No, none that I can think of."

"Have any of them stopped coming to appointments lately?"

She thought about it.

"Mrs. Gorleski, I haven't seen her in a few weeks. She used to come every Thursday, just like me. I thought she just started coming another day."

"You come in every week?" From recent experience Mulder knew that wasn't normal, not even in high-risk pregnancies, at least not until the last month.

"Every week, si." she said. "Sometimes twice."

"What does he do every week?" Roddy asked and Mulder could have *thumped* her. His hand actually twitched thinking about it. Garcia clammed right up.

"I can't talk about this any more. I am meeting my sister to buy baby clothes." she said, taking a step away.

"Do you know what you're having?" Mulder tried to mend the damage, but her eyes were wary now, she glanced at the nearest door several times.

"I will have a baby girl." she said at last. "Her name will be Tiffany, and she will not get the disease that killed my mother and grandfather. That is all I know, Mr.Mulder and Miss.Rodriguez."

She turned and walked away from them.

Mulder turned on Roddy.

"Great job. Scare her off when I had her talking."

"I thought she was distracted enough that she might let something slip..." she was confused by his anger. "I thought that was what you were trying to do."

"I was *trying* to get the names of women in the program who had lost their babies recently, and she was going to give them to me if you hadn't stuck your foot into it!" he got in the car.

"How was I supposed to know that!"

"It's called intuition, Rodriguez, and you ain't got it!" he shouted in the car and her ears rang. She slammed her door and yelled back.

"Take me back to the office. They're all right about you, Mulder! You're a creep and a cretin! The rest of us aren't *spooky* the way you are!"

They drove in silence.

Mulder dropped her off and left without telling her where he was going. But she didn't care anyhow.

Dana finished her sandwich with something less than enthusiasm. Dancer was watching her with concern.

"I'm okay, Ru." she said, sounding so tired. "I just get so frustrated sometimes."

"I know." he smiled a little, his normal enthusiasm tempered by her mood.

"It's hard. I always thought that being pregnant would be like one long birthday, everybody happy about it, the man I loved treating me like a princess..." she trailed off as he stood, taking her hand. "What are you doing?"

"We're going birthday shopping." he said, his eyes lighting up with inspiration.

"It's not my birthday, Dancer." she couldn't help a smile as he pulled her out of the pub.

"Sure it is, for another six months." he grinned now, helping her into the car. "That's what you want, right?"

"Not exactly..."

"You don't have any maternity clothes or baby toys and you haven't even looked at furniture..." he scolded. "There's nothing you can do at the office until Mulder sends more information ...now, have you decided on a theme for the nursery?"

With a resigned smile Scully sat back and listened as the tough little agent debated the virtues of Winnie-the-Pooh versus Beatrix Potter.

"And there's always the Muppet Babies, and Disney..." he was trying so hard.



He took her to one of the expensive baby stores that had everything.

"My God. That's more than I make in a month." Dana giggled as they looked at the round designer crib in the window display. It had a canopy and specially designed mattress.

"It is pretty, though." Dancer teased. It was extravagant, ridiculous.

The saleswoman, wearing a pastel suit and carrying a planner, came over after they had browsed for a few minutes.

"Hi. Shopping for yourself or a friend?"

"Us." Ru said with just the right touch of masculine pride. Dana had to choke back a laugh, covering it with a cough.

"Do you know what you're interested in?' her cheerfulness might be a match for Dancer's, Dana thought.

"We've just started looking." she admitted. "I'm not due until December, it seems like we have so much time.

"Not that much." the woman grinned, looking human. "That crib has to be ordered at least a year in advance. They are hand made in Russia."

Ru glanced at Dana.

"That would explain the price tag."

"Yup. A little out of our budget." she agreed.

"So, I'm Sally. Why don't you tell me what you do and what you're looking for today and we can gather some ideas for you to think about."

They began walking through an area filled with cribs of all shapes and sizes and colors.

"We're FBI agents." Dancer said. He almost sounded as if he were flirting, Dana thought, amused.

"I guess you could put us in the middle-middle class." she added with a teasing look at him. He winced.

"Then this will probably be the sort of thing you want." Sally stopped in an area that held eight or nine cribs. "All of these are very nice, very sturdy, and very affordable. No particle board, but no hand-carved bleached yew, either."

"Normal stuff." Ru observed.

"Yeah. Normal stuff." she agreed, looking him over with friendly appreciation.

"We'll look around. I don't think we're going to get anything today." Dana said, warning him, but he just grinned at her.

"I'll be in the clothing department if you need me." Sally agreed. "Here's my card." she slipped it -- engraved linen -- out of her planner and Ru took it.

"This is the sort of thing I imagined." Dana said, stroking the soft shine of a traditional Jenny Lind crib, made of a light- colored wood. "I want him to be able to look out between the bars and see his room and everything."

"To prepare him for prison life?" he was teasing.

"So he'll be comfortable when he visits you." she retorted. They stepped into another area and she smiled widely, moving quickly.

"Ru, *look*."

"Oh, no." he shook his head.

"This is perfect." Dana was fingering curtains, checking prices on pillows and sheets and toys. "Ru, what could be more appropriate?"

Hopefully: "Pooh?"

"Pooh on you." she said, holding up a blanket. "I didn't know Warner Brothers had done a 'baby' version of the Looney Tunes."

"They're called 'Tiny Tunes'." he admitted reluctantly.

"Mulder will *love* this." she took a stuffed Mortimer Martian -- Marvin's nephew -- and shook him, listening to the eerie squeak with delight. "I have to get this."

"Whatever you want." he agreed, not wanting her to be sad again.

She took a pile of things to the counter -- curtains and wall border and a fluffy throw rug and the stuffed Mortimer. Sally saw them coming and met them with a smile.

"You made up your mind fast."

"This is great." Dana was almost giggling. "This is just what I wanted."

Sally rolled her eyes and Dancer noticed.

"I wanted Pooh." he said wistfully.

"I have to have him, I get to choose."

"You're having a boy?" Sally asked.

"It better be." Scully said and the saleswoman didn't understand the sudden sadness in her voice.

"What else would you like today?" she began gathering Dana's untidy pile into a neat stack.

"Clothes." Dancer spoke up. "You're going to get big pretty quick, Dana. A couple of suits maybe?"

"I hate buying clothes."

"I'll pick them." he offered, leading her to the big section in the back.

"They better have a petite section..." she let herself be led, Sally trailing after.



"What *are* you doing?" Roddy finally spoke to him after ignoring him for hours. He'd only come back in because the modem link on his laptop seemed to be screwed up.

"Contacting a source." he said flatly, turning off the screen as she walked in.

"Are you witholding information from me, Agent Mulder?" she sounded angry.

"Would you recognize it if I *did*, Agent Roddy?" he taunted, wanting her to leave so he could get on with it. He crossed his arms and the burns began to hurt even before he touched them.

"I'm filing a complaint against you." she said harshly. "Sexual discrimination. You obviously won't work with me because I'm a woman."

"I won't work with you because you're not Scully." he snapped back. That as all he needed. A discrimination suit. That would be just *dandy*.   

"The *Ice Queen* doesn't qualify as a woman." the rumors had spread further than he'd thought, but those words infuriated him.

"Then why is she the one having a baby while you're alone?" he threw back, wanting to hurt her, to hurt *somebody*, tired of hurting himself.

Her face paled. That one had hit home.

"That's it. I won't work with you."

"I never asked you to." he turned his back on her, fingers digging into the open wounds on his arm, the pain coming in a wave, waiting for her to leave.

He had to finish this case and get out of here...back to Scully and the pain he understood. Just don't let there be any connection to Samantha, he prayed to a God he didn't believe in as he turned the computer back on, hearing her soft footsteps as she left. Don't let me recognize any of the names they might give me...

The information was downloaded quickly, the Gunmen didn't like to be on an official line very long and they were using a multi-link remote hook-up for this. They wouldn't have done it at all except he'd sent email *begging* for their help...he scanned the file and then shut down, wanting to get to the privacy of his hotel room to go over it.

Several other agents glared at him in anger or disgust as he left. Roddy hadn't wasted any time spreading the news.

Spooky Mulder was a jerk.

Big surprise there.

"That's perfect." Ru smiled, giving the scarf a final twitch.

Dana looked in the mirror. She usually avoided scarves and hats, they made her look even shorter, but he'd been right. With her hair pulled up and the thin touch of color at her throat she looked...different. Not taller, but sophisticated. It made the plain black pantsuit a statement, not simply a decision.

It made her hair glow dark copper.

"I'll have to take you shopping more often." she agreed, slipping it off. He had steered her to three outfits, two ensembles and one suit, all adjustable for the days to come. Sally had warned her that none of them would fit by December, but they were good for now.

And there wasn't a bow to be seen. No bows, no ruffles, nothing pink. He had known she wouldn't like fussy stuff without asking.

They sat down on the sofa, the TV on. It was late, but her hours were turned round now and she wasn't tired.

The kitchen was separated from the living room area by a tall counter and Dancer went behind it, opening a cabinet. She couldn't reach half of them, they went almost to the high ceiling.

He came out with a plate and two glasses of purple liquid. She grinned at the _expression on his face.

"You really don't like sweets, do you?" she asked as he set it down and she picked up a cupcake, licking the frosting off the top.

He took a sip of the grape-flavored sugar-water and grimaced.

"Meat. I like *meat*." he picked up the remote. "Anything good on?"

"Not as good as Casablanca." she said. "How about Arnie?"

"Which one? I'm too old to enjoy Conan the Republican anymore."

"You're only 26, Ru."

"I *feel* too old for it." it was his usual lazy grin.

"Kindergarten Cop and Twins."

"That'll do."

They watched the movies, Dana eating way too much junk food but not feeling bad about it. During commercials she glanced at Ru, sitting there like he belonged, his company comfortable, undemanding, just there.

This is the way it's supposed to be, she thought. Will it ever be this way with Mulder again? *Was* it ever this way with him?

Ru looked at her and smiled, as if he had heard the thought.

He reached for her hand and she let him take it, his fingers aimlessly tracing soft patterns.

Dana sighed, closed her eyes.     

After a few minutes he let go of her hand and stood, stretching, his shirt pulling out of his jeans, revealing thickly furred stomach.

He looked down at her and shrugged.

"I don't want to leave you alone."

She opened her eyes with a smile.

"I'll be okay."

"I woundn't go if I didn't have to."

"I know."

Dana was briefly tempted to ask what would happen if he didn't, but knew that deep down inside she didn't want to know. Not really. Dancer was Dancer and that's all there was to it. She didn't need the details.

"I'll be back by dawn." he touched her face, a feather stroke, his skin so warm.

"I won't wait up." she promised.

He went out the window into the fire escape and she was alone.

She wished Mulder would call.     

He sat on the rumpled bed, reading though his eyes hurt. Touching his arm he was startled to find his shirt wet. He'd made it bleed this time. That wasn't good, that was too noticeable. He'd have to be more careful.

He had names to call, files to search, something to go on. With a sigh he began correlating the data into something an average person could make sense of.

He hadn't found any names he recognized and he was grateful.

The clock said 2:34 a.m. when he looked at it. Too late to call Scully. He'd have to do it in the morning. She was going to be pissed, but maybe when he sent her this information she'd forgive him...who was he kidding.

He rubbed his arm. There was no one here to see it.

part#3 ------ rockslide

Dana sat beside him in the car silent. She wasn't looking out the window or anything. If her eyes hadn't been open he would have thought she was asleep.

But her eyes were open and shining with unshed tears.

Releasing the steering wheel with one hand Ru reached over and took hers, giving it a friendly squeeze.

She glanced at him but wouldn't meet his eyes. He reached into the storage thing between the seats and pulled out a tissue, holding it out to her, putting his hand back on the wheel, trying to watch the road and still see her out of the corner of his eye.

"He's doing what he thinks is right, Dana." he said softly.

"Stop defending him." it was flat and desperately unhappy. "He's avoiding me...and our baby. He doesn't want this."

They were passing out of the city, the landscape was suburban, cheerful, normal. Scully stared at it, seeing a

landscape once familiar, now as alien as the surface of the moon.

Ru glanced at the sky, wishing briefly for the moon to show itself, give him strength. There was nothing he could say, or do to make this better.

"All we've gone through..." the tears were rolling slowly down her face now. They both ignored them. Unspoken is unseen.

She couldn't find anything else to say. Dancer was torn, unable to sort his feelings. he always tried to avoid human entangalments and here he was, torn between his compassion for and his anger at Mulder and his affection and fear for Dana.

Sometimes he just couldn't find the words.

Hesitantly he slid his large hand across the seat and wrapped her much smaller one in it, giving it a gentle squeeze and holding it tenderly on the seat between them.

Dana didn't look at him or change _expression. But she did squeeze back, once.

By the time they got to the doctor's office her tears were gone and she had found a tremulous smile to celebrate this milestone.



"Mrs. Hernandez?" the door of the tiny house opened, revealing a latched chain and a dark face. "I'm special agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you can spare the time." he flipped up the folder he held ready.

"Questions about what?" her deep voice sounded reasonable.

"I'd like to ask you about Southwest Research and Dr.Tomas."

The chain slipped and she opened the door, a matronly woman in her late thirties, clean, her very long hair in one thick braid over her shoulder. She smiled tentatively.

"I would like to talk about them, but I can't. I'm sorry." she began to close the door again and he stuck a foot in it with a wry grin.

"Is something or someone preventing you from talking to me?" he sounded very serious and she responded in kind.

"I haven't been threatened, Mr.Mulder. But I signed a paper when I was a patient there promising never to talk about what they did. They said it was so nobody could steal their technology."

"Do you think they had any technology worth stealing?" when she shook her head he held up a hand. "Hear me out. You're not talking about the technology itself, just your *impression* of it."

She thought about it for a minute.

"I've been treated for infertility at several clinics across the US, and Tomas had, he *did* things I've never heard or seen of before."

"Did Tomas help you have a baby, Mrs.Hernandez?" he said it very quietly, very sympathetically.

"It didn't work for me." the sadness was obvious, but he could see the resolve, too. This woman had dealt with her disappointment and would get on with her life.

"Thank you for your time." he left, thinking that "I'm sorry." would really just rub it in.

Celia Gorleski was next.



"Here's the head..." Dr.Hall was standing beside Dana, pointing at the small screen while the white-coated technician slowly rolled the receiver across her belly, just a little bump now, the jelly cold and slimy on her skin. Dancer stood by her head, a hand on her shoulder, watching her face and not the screen.

"And the heart. Everything looks fine, Dana." Hall smiled at both of them, catching Dancer looking pensive.

"Can you tell what it is?"

Dana didn't sound very excited.

"It's really too early to tell, but we'll know after the amnio next week." Hall said, turning to study the screen carefully. "No, too early. I'm going to print this for you so you can it to the grandparents..." she grinned at them, "But you'll have to get the copies yourself."

Dana watched in fascination, feeling a thrill run through her as she watched the image move on the screen.

That was her *baby*.

Standing beside her, a hand on her shoulder, Dancer watched with undisguised awe, then looked at Dana and saw the sadness still visible on her pretty pale face.

Mulder should have been here, Scully thought wistfully. Maybe he would act differently once he saw his child growing within her. She had to believe he would.

Maybe that was why he wouldn't come.

This once-in-a-lifetime moment of joy was marred by his absence, and she hurt so much.

But as bad as it hurt she couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen.    

"Hello, little one." she whispered beneath her breath, unaware that Ru was listening. "I'm so glad you're here. I can't wait to meet you."

She was going to be okay, Dancer thought. He removed his hand from her shoulder, awkward with her in these circumstances. But that was probably okay, he figured this made a lot of expectant fathers nervous.

"Mr.Dancer." The doctor didn't call him Ru. Something about him just made her uncomfortable and her respected that. His father would call it racial memory, from when their species hunted one another. "We still need to get those blood samples from you, we're running out of time here."

His eyes flew to Dana's, mild panic in them, his hand suddenly clutching her shoulder hard, and she understood without asking.

"We have to get to another appointment pretty quickly..." she tried to think of something.

"Why can't Dana take it?" he blurted suddenly.

"Hmmm?" Hall was looking at him suspiciously.

"We're always so busy..." Dana appeared thoughtful. "I could just draw it myself when we have time and drop it off here when I get the chance."

"It will only take a minute..." Hall was ready to insist, but decided it really wasn't her business. "Sure, you're a doctor, Dana. I'll give you the works and you can take it." Was he just afraid of needles and worried what people would think if they knew? She'd seen tougher guys become wimps over a little needle stick. If he wanted to do it in private, what did she care?

"So, get dressed and I'll have this picture ready for you." she stepped out. Dancer followed her quickly, giving Dana a chance to dress in private, getting outside where he could breathe without the nasty smells that were making his head hurt.

Leaning on the car, he decided that he owed Mulder for this. If only for the headache.



"Mr. Gorleski? I need to speak to Mr. Paul Gorleski."

The voice on the other end of the phone was polite but unfriendly.

"Mr.Gorleski is on the floor right now and can't come to the phone."

"This is federal business." he was getting angry, and afraid of losing control. Everything seemed right on the edge, ready to spill over into rage. "I would like to meet with him in private but *I* *will* come down there and disrupt everything if you insist!" he was snarling. A tiny corner of his mind thought that he must sound like Dancer just now, but he ignored it.

"I'll try to get him for you, sir."

Mulder was on hold again, listening to country music. If it could be *called* music.

He should have gone to the factory to meet the man, but felt just a tad bit paranoid today. Although they often didn't mean anything, once in a great while these feelings were based in fact. Considering the power of the people he might be dealing with, better safe than sorry. There was no one at the house, Mrs.Gorleski didn't work and had no close relatives. He'd watched the house for four solid hours this morning -- if she was shopping wouldn't she have come home by now?

"This is Gorleski. Can I help you?" the voice was heavily accented and wary.

"My name is Fox Mulder, Mr.Gorleski, and I work for the FBI. I'd like to speak to you and your wife, if that's possible."

"My wife is unavailable." the man snapped. "What do you want to know?"

"I'd feel more comfortable if I could meet you someplace." Mulder said. "When do you take lunch?"

"Noon." he said it like 'you idiot'.

"Can you meet me? I'll buy."

There was silence on the other end as the man thought it over.

"Is this about the baby?" he sounded angry.

"I'd rather not talk about it on the phone."

"We signed a paper."

"I don't want to talk about Dr.Tomas's procedures or techniques. I want to know what happened to your baby." Mulder stressed the last. "Don't you want to know, Mr.Gorleski?"

"Stanley's Barbecue on North 11th. Can you find it?"

"I'll be there." Mulder promised, hanging up abruptly, afraid he'd said too much already.

He'd have to ask for directions, fast.



Dana had a quiet day at the office, doing paperwork and research, alternately missing Mulder and being pissed at him all over again.

Websurfing brought some interesting articles on Southwest Research and Dr.Tomas that she downloaded to send to him the next time they talk...whenever that would be. Their baby might graduate high school first, and finish college before they slept together again. Personally, Dana wasn't willing to go *that* long without sex.

She doodled idly on a notepad and realized that she was writing names...baby names.

William. And Wolf. (Wolf? Where had she gotten that one?) And *Fox*. Like he was going to let her name him *that*. He hated it.

He probably wouldn't like Wolf, either, but she had a feeling Ru would.

Alexander. She'd always liked that one. Joshua, Adam. Strong names.

Okay. She thought about it, seriously, for the first time, surprised she hadn't before. It was a long cry from her junior high days when she scribbled the names of her future children across the margins of notebooks. Of course their last names had all been the same as the boys that wouldn't date her, a pale, short, skinny redhead. Mulder would have been one of the geeks she was 'just friends' with while she pined for the attention of a football player.

God. Last names. Of course it would have to be Dancer. How was that going to make Mulder feel?

Probably about as bad as he felt now, letting Dancer claim his baby. It hurt her when he acted this way, but that didn't mean she didn't understand. Unfortunately, after her initial dismay, she agreed with him. It protected their job so they could still work together, even if she wasn't sure the baby was in as much danger as he thought.

She rubbed the back of her neck, which itched occasionally. *What she was thinking?* Of course the baby, any baby of her's or Mulder's, was in danger, doubly if it was the child of both of them.

They were doing the right thing. The *only* thing they could do under the circumstances.

Sighing, she stood and stretched, checking the clock. It wasn't quite six, but who was going to say anything?

She was going to drag Dancer to dinner and then get to bed early...she was so tired all the time now...



"Mr.Gorleski?" Mulder walked into the diner with a grimace. The plain man sitting at the first table jumped at his low tone.

"Can we walk outside?" wearing a nice suit, a bit rumpled, Gorleski stood, not offering his hand.  

"Whatever you want." he was going to get information from this guy, Mulder could afford to be generous.

They walked several blocks. It was a run-down neighborhood, didn't look at all like this man's usual haunt.

"Celia went to visit her sister in Alabama." Gorleski said at last. "I'm not sure she's coming back."

Incapable of sympathy at this point, Mulder held his tongue.

"She thinks it's my fault, I guess." the man paused, turned to Mulder, his eyes begging for understanding."She didn't want to go to Tomas, said he gave her a creepy feeling. But I wanted a baby...a son of my own. I know we could've adopted eventually. But I wanted *my* child."

Mulder nodded, noncommittal.

"She was so happy to be pregnant. We signed all the papers...they said they were just routine, that nothing would really happen."

"What did the papers say, Mr.Gorleski?" Mulder tried to be sensitive.

"Lots of things." he shrugged. "They could sue me for talking to you. But with Celia gone that doesn't seem to matter anymore."

They stopped walking again and Mulder prodded gently.

"Did you give Tomas permission to run tests on your wife and baby?"

"He performed 'viability enhancing' procedures. That's what he called them. I don't know what any of them actually were, but I know Celia would come home crying about them. And after her eggs were harvested and I donated my part, they waited three weeks before they implanted them. Other clinics wait four or five days, at the most. I've wondered since then what he was doing to our baby when it was just a cluster of defenseless cells. If I had protected it, it might have lived."

"Your wife miscarried." Mulder could barely say it. Despite all the pain, the fear, the anguish Scully's pregnancy was causing him, he couldn't imagine the pain and guilt of losing that baby now.

"She started to bleed and we called the doctor. He said to come to the clinic and not the hospital...I didn't want to. I was afraid of losing Celia too. But she insisted, said she wanted to save her baby...they wouldn't let me in the delivery room..."

"How far along was your wife?"

"Six-and-a-half months."

"What happened after the baby was born?" they stopped again, now standing in the opening of an alley, the too-sweet smell of rotting cabbage strong in the air.

Gorleski lowered his head and wouldn't meet Mulder's eyes.

"One of the papers we signed...it said they got to keep the body and perform an autopsy if it didn't go to term. Celia swore they could have tried to save him...it was a boy...but that they refused...that was right before she left me. They kept the body and we didn't even have anything to bury."

"Do you know what they did with the body, Mr.Gorleski?" Mulder leaned close, invading personal space.

Gorleski shook his head.

"They didn't tell us. They just reminded us that we'd signed those papers and sent us on our way."

They were both quiet, Gorleski reliving the trauma, Mulder considering his next action.

He decided he wanted to try to make this man feel better, if only because Scully would have expected it of him.

"Call your wife, Mr.Gorleski. Tell her everything you told me about wanting a child. Then tell her that the FBI is investigating Tomas and you're cooperating. Perhaps she'll listen to you and you can talk about the hurt you've both suffered."

Gorleski frowned at him.

"What are you, some kind of shrink?"

"Yeah." Mulder answered as he turned to walk away. "Some kind."



She was sleeping so soundly, he hated to wake her. But he had to go out tonight, and she was sleeping on his arm.

"Dana." he shook her shoulder with his free hand. "Honey. Go to bed, you're exhausted."

She sat up with bleary eyes.

"Ru? Huh?"

He pulled his arm and flexed the stiffness out of it.

"Go to bed. I need to run,and you need to sleep."

"Oh. Yeah." she stood unsteadily and he reached to help her balance, his hands on her waist.

Their eyes met and he removed his hands quickly.

"I'll be back in the morning." he said softly, getting up and heading for the window.

"Ru?" he turned at her voice, sleepy and curious.

"Dana."

"You don't really run, do you?"

He grinned, the _expression covering his face with half-glee.

"Sure I do. Just not the way you would."

He was out the window before she could ask anything else.

Dana changed out of her suit and into Mulder's boxers and T- shirt. She missed him, but this helped a little bit. Enough to let her sleep alone. Curling under the covers she clutched the phone in one hand, determined to make it ring...she slept again.



"Thanks, Frohike." Mulder breathed in a whisper as the gadget his subversive friend had given him a year ago proved itself again now.

The security system was on hold momentarily, giving him just enough time to get to the console and adjust it to accept his presence...this wouldn't work for just anyone, they would have to have his memory and intelligence...*there*. He was in safely.

The lobby was just the way it had looked the last time he was here, but his time he wasn't interested in the small Monet and Botticelli originals on the wall. Tonight he was looking for proof.

He was a little beyond legalities here. He knew that. But this was too important. He had to see if there were any names in Tomas' files that he recognized. He had to *know*.

If he was caught Skinner would throw him to the wolves.

He just hope Dancer was the one that caught him.

The thought made him grin and he shook his head as he attached the keycode device to Tomas' office door.

Good thing Roddy wasn't here. She'd have a fit.

"He's in." Roddy sat back and sighed. She didn't like using Mulder this way, no matter what a jerk he was. If he was caught they wouldn't claim him, but if he found anything they would have an excuse to get a search warrant and clear the place out. Because she thought he was right, something unsavory was going on here...now they just had to see what he did next.

It took a few tries, but the backdoor on Tomas's computer was pathetically easy to guess. His mother's birthday and the license plate number of his Porche. Predictable, and boring.

The menu presented many choices, none of them sounded like what he wanted.

"Where did you hide it...?" he went for the most unbelievable of the entries, 'Politics for Fun and Profit', which turned out to be a list of lobbyists paid on the clinic's behalf, complete with success rates and perks given.

'The Hope of the Future' proved to be the jackpot. The password was harder, he had to use the codebreaker. This was a handy little gadget. Langley had said that another semi- secret group, this one composed of hackers and ex-military men, had brought it to them for safekeeping several years ago and hadn't shown up since. The leader had been tall and blond and good-looking, a Robert Redford-type.

He picked a disc at random from the box and authorized the computer to overwrite it, downloading everything in the file...and waited.

But not too long.

"Agent Mulder. Breaking and entering, industrial espionage?" the voice was angry but quiet.

Mulder snapped around as the light came on. He'd been working by the light of the screen.

He'd though everyone had gone home by now.

Dr.Tomas was pointing a very large gun at him.

He smiled with his next words.

"It's too bad I have to shoot you as a trespasser." he pulled the hammer back and Mulder threw himself to the side, scrambling to get behind the desk for the little protection it might offer.

The shot was loud going off.

"We have gunfire!" the voice came clear over Roddy's headset. She and Smith scrambled out of the surveillance car as the clinic lit up like Christmas, the alarms sounding in shrill, strident tones.

"We're going in!" she yelled back as they went through the front door without benefit of a key. With the alarms going off and no need for secrecy it didn't matter that the door didn't survive it.

"This way!" she led Smith at a run down the hall, to Tomas' office, knowing she would find Mulder there....

"Freeze!" Smith yelled and Roddy grimaced even as she disarmed Tomas.

Chastened, Mulder crawled out from under the desk, but, instead of yelling at her for following him, he went back to the computer and found the information was already transferred.

"He was trespassing!" Tomas was screaming, a hint of his native castillian sneaking into his accent now, under stress. "He threatened me!"

"With what?" Roddy studied Mulder, told him again with her eyes that she desired him, and then gave the now handcuffed doctor a hard shake.

"I brought my weapon." Mulder reluctantly pulled it from the holster and showed it to her. It had not been fired.

"This is manslaughter at the least." now she was getting into someone's face and Mulder enjoyed the sight.

"I didn't kill anybody!"

"You gave false hope. That's worse." Mulder stepped up and shook his head at Roddy. "I think I have enough here to get a late warrant so the real cops can toss the place."

"That would be nice." she didn't smile at him.

"Why'd you bail me out?" he asked as he left the building beside her.

"Because you were right. We might not like your methods, but this saved babies. I'll ignore my personal feelings for that."

Mulder smiled, just a little.

"Maybe I can get you change them."

part#4 ------ roll like thunder      



He got home late the next night. He knew he'd been avoiding it, knew he didn't want to face Scully. So he'd stayed in San Antonio, done all the paperwork he could find related to the case, studied every note Tomas had ever written, even took Roddy to a combination apology/thank-you dinner and was charming feeling guilty the whole time, his fingers digging into the healing flesh of his arm.

But now he was home. It was late, she should have been asleep. He'd called her that night after they'd broken the case. Told her that their names, his parents, his sister's, were nowhere to be found in the clinic computers, unless they were hidden *very* well, and he didn't think they had a computer expert on the payroll.

He put his suitcase on the stairs, determined just to look in at her and then go on up.

"Hi." he jumped slightly as she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. "I was wondering when you were going to get in. You should have called, I would have come to get you."

Steeling himself for the confrontation, he answered carefully.

"I didn't want to wake you."

She got up, wearing his shirt and boxers again and he felt a thrill run down his body.

"I got some stuff for the baby, I wanted you to see it." she took his hand, smiling, and he had to smile back. She looked so pretty, so young and healthy and happy.

The way she should always look.

The way she didn't look around him. The pain in his gut came directly from his heart...did Dancer make her this happy?

As long as she was happy, it didn't matter, he told himself sternly as she led him down the wide hall to the den, which was going to be the baby's room.

"Close your eyes." she said, and he did, feeling foolish but getting interested despite himself.

She led him into the room and he heard the click of the light switch.

"Okay." she said, stepping behind him, her arms around his waist as she looked around him. "Open them."

He did.

And immediately shut them again.

"What do you think?" she sounded so excited, so pleased with herself, how could he answer? He always hurt her...

He looked again, hoping it wasn't as bad as he thought.

But it was. The walls were sporting the image of a small green martian in a big helmet, his bizarre little dog by his side. They were on the sheets, the mobile, the blankets...

"You don't like it." he'd waited too long to answer.

Mulder bit his lip, hard, felt the blood rush to the surface.

"What are you doing?!" she stared at him and he stopped, startled.

"I don't get it, Scully." it was a snarl born of fear and pain.

"What? If you don't like it, just say so. I can take it back." she had her hands on her hips, facing him down.

He felt the rage rise in him, turned, tried to walk out, but she grabbed his arm and held on stubbornly, shouting at him now.

"Well it's not like you were here to help!"

She jumped back as he turned, took another step when she saw his face, afraid she'd pushed him too far.

"You want him to be comfortable when they take him, Scully?! You want him to *recognize* them so he won't be scared?! Cause I don't think it's gonna work!! I think he's gonna *scream* just like Samantha did, just like you did, no matter how many cute little aliens you put in his room!"

Hearing himself, really hearing the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that, for the first time in his life, he *sounded like his father*, Mulder literally ran out of the room, leaving Dana standing, shocked, to stare at the spot he had stood.

When he got upstairs he pulled out the pack of cigarettes he'd bought at the airport and the lighter with the childproof switch. Clutching them tightly in white-knuckled hands, he sat heavily on the floor under the skylight and waited for the tears to come.

*Prayed* for the tears to come.

And when they didn't, he began to *make* them.



"hey." Dancer slipped in through the door like a shadow. Curled on the couch -- she hadn't wanted to be alone in her big bed -- Dana sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking for all the world like a sleepy child.

But a sleepy child had *never* made him feel like this.

He sat beside her, concerned by the redness of her nose, the puffiness of her eyes.

"He didn't come home?" it was the only thing he could think of offhand that would have made her cry like this.

"He came home." she snorted in painful derision. "And yelled at me for my choice of nursery decor."

"Bastard." he'd had just about enough of this. "I'll talk to him." he got up but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"Leave him be. I'm going to see my mom tomorrow, I'll talk to him after that."

Ru sat back down.

"Maybe he just needs some time alone."

"Yeah." Dana said, slumping back down into the couch. "Maybe."

A triangle within the first one. Then three points around it. Neat. Precise.

It was hard to hold it steady while it burned, but he did, because it had to look just right. The pattern had to be even, perfect.

He didn't even notice the tears that ran down his face as he lit the second cigarette.

But he did remember to put it out before he rolled over on the floor and fell into sleep, the pain a constant song in his body.

He didn't want to do this to anyone else.



"Dana. Honey. I'm so glad to see you."

Margaret Scully ushered her daughter into the kitchen, where she was baking pies. Not for a holiday but just because it was a crisp day and she felt like it.

Dana smiled as she sat at the counter and her mom pinched off a little piece of dough for her before picking up the rolling pin and getting to it.

It was squishy and elastic in her fingers. She rolled it around, made little balls of it, finally formed it into a string of pie-dough pearls, setting it on the cookie sheet beside an already-filled shell.

"I remember how you kids used to beg for pieces of dough so you could make things." Margaret smiled at her, neatly folding a circle in half and quarters before deftly transferring it into another deep glass dish. She reached into the cabinet behind her and pulled out an old spice jar filled with a mixture of cinnamon and sugar, handed it to her.

Solemnly Dana shook it over her creation.

"I don't think Mulder ever did this." she said quietly. Her mom glanced at her but began slicing the tart green apples that were lying on a dishtowel beside the sink.

"All the things I took for granted in my childhood. I don't think Mulder ever got to do any of them."

"Honey." Margaret said. "Katherine isn't an ogre. I know she and Fox don't get along, but he did things. He went trick-or- treating, he had sleepovers. Boy stuff." she said, but she didn't sound so sure.

"Not after Samantha was gone." Dana sighed, then stood and went to her mother to hug her from behind. Margaret stood still, pleased by this affection from her so-often stand-offish daughter. "Did I ever thank you and daddy for giving me such a good life?"

"Of course you did, dear." Margaret felt dana pull away and went on as if nothing had happened. "By becoming a wonderful person. That's all the thanks we needed."

"Is that how it works?" Dana sat back down, one hand on the slight mound of her belly. Margaret glanced at her again, trying to decide what to do. Speak up or listen? It was the hardest decision for a parent to make.

Dana made it for her by squeezing off another piece of dough and beginning another creation in silence.

Side-by-side, the Scully women baked.

And eventually they talked.

"Thanks Mom." Dana gave her mother another hug, standing beside her car. The sky was dark, purplish, the moon hiding in the clouds. She didn't usually get home this late, she hoped Ru was okay.

"You bring those fellas of yours out for dinner soon." Margaret smiled at her, including Dancer, accepting that he was a part of her life now. Whatever was going on with her daughter, he was a part of it. "Just give Fox some room. This can't be easy for him, and you know he loves you."

Dana smiled sadly. Her mom thought it was hard because she was having another man's baby. She hadn't told her that, but Margaret was assuming it, like she had known she would. Or maybe she realized the truth but was playing along.

"He hasn't changed, Dana." Margaret continued. "He's acted like this before. You can't ask a person to change, not just for you and not so quickly."

It had only been a few weeks. Of course Mulder hadn't adjusted yet.

"I know." she got in her car, waved, and drove away.



Dancer was still there when she got in. Sitting on the floor, painstakingly constructing a tiny red tricycle.

"Hey." he smiled when she came in. "Look what I got."

"He won't be ready to use that for years." she laughed and scolded, then looked around. There was no evidence anyone had eaten dinner. "Did Mulder come down?"

"Haven't seen him since you left." he tightened the last nut and stood, holding it out in front of him. "But I didn't hear the elevator."

The huge freight elevator, which had made it possible for them to get the furniture up here, made an awful clanking noise. She thought it must be terrible for the people on the lower floors, who heard it every time it was used, but up here they only had to listen if they used it or someone took it to the roof, which had only happened once.

She put the pie on the counter top and smiled as Ru came over and made a face.

"It's not for you anyhow." she shook a finger at him. "Mom sent it for Mulder."

"He's welcome to it." Dancer opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of jumbo beef jerky, unwrapping a fat stick and gnawing on it contentedly.

"I'm going to go up and talk to him."

"I'll stay up in case you need me." he sat on the sofa while she went to the back stairs.

She paused before opening the door. This was the first time she had done this, gone up to Mulder's place while he was home, since they had moved in. It was sort of setting a precedent. She'd never been able to just walk up to see him whenever she wanted before.

This was a real change.

She thought about it as she went quietly up the narrow stairs. He'd looked at the place with her, convinced her they should move in. He wanted to live here with her and their baby.

Maybe she was being too hard on him.



It was dark again. But he didn't notice.

All that mattered was the pain.

On the inside.

The pain out.

H knew that he needed the pain outside, to let the inside pain come out. Twisted, convoluted, it worked, better than it had when he was young.

There was a pattern now, on the inside of his upper left arm. A graphic, geometric figure. Hard as he tried, he couldn't see anything in it.

Abstract. Meaningless. Pretty but with no purpose.

Like him.

Still sitting beneath the skylight, his back to the room, he didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs or the floor behind him.

The tip of the cigarette glowed that Halloween-orange that his body had learned to recognize. His stomach rolled, his balls tightened, acid rose in his throat...and he put it to his arm, ignoring the protest of his rational mind, banished behind lock and key in a distant corner of his brain, unwanted, unheeded.

"My God, Mulder, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!"

The scream broke his reverie.

Turning, he dropped the cigarette into his lap, where it burned his bare leg and he flinched -- *it hurt*! -- and jumped up, brushing it from him while Scully approached warily, her eyes wide and astonished.

"Scully?" he stared at her, seeing only a vision...had he finally lost his mind?

"*Mulder*." she came close, grabbed his arm firmly in her hands, twisted it around to the reflected light of a streetlamp floating through the skylight. "What have you done?"

Pity.

He saw it in her eyes when she looked back to him from the blistered, oozing mess on his arm. The one thing he could not take from her.

He opened his mouth, but there was nothing to say.

So  he turned and walked away, to the stairs, and down, Scully following closely.

"Mulder! Where are you going? Are you going to hurt yourself? MULDER!!"

Terrified, disgusted, she was determined not to let him get away without talking to her, without explaining this...

"Dancer! Stop him!!" she yelled as Mulder burst out of the stairs and ran down the hallway. Without questioning the short man stepped in front of her partner, who reached to shove him aside but met brick wall.

Dancer stood firm, grabbing Mulder's arms, smelling the blood and burned flesh, dismayed.

"Fox. Hey, dude, get a grip..." he tried to soothe, but Mulder wasn't hearing him, was pushing and shoving and struggling, some part of him astonished by Dancer's superior strength.

It became a struggle. Dancer held on and Mulder fought him like a man possessed.

Tiring, becoming dangerously angry, on the verge of doing something he *couldn't* control, Dancer threw Mulder to the floor and wrapped him up in a professional basket hold, trapped by his own arms and his own weight, Mulder finally set his tongue loose.

"Get the fuck off me, you freak! Let me up! *Dana*! Get him off me! LET ME GO!!!!" the last of it was a drawn-out scream that faded to silence as he stilled.

Dancer held him tightly, waiting for a rational response. Panting, Dana knelt beside Mulder's head, trying to understand, wanting to talk to him, to make it better...

But Mulder wasn't there.

His eyes were closed and he was breathing in shallow pants. He didn't respond to stimuli, not words or touches or pain when she examined his arm.

She looked at Dancer, her terror written starkly on her face.

He looked back, unable to offer comfort or even assistance.

"I've got to go." he said softly, regretting it more than anything he'd ever said in his life. "The fight...I *have* to get out..."

With a lunge he turned Mulder over and lifted the larger man like a baby with no apparent effort, laying him on the sofa tenderly, turning to Scully, his eyes wide and glittering yellow, hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Don't do anything till I get back..." he begged. "Give him a chance to recover on his own...." he couldn't get out anything else. With a low whine he ran for the window and disappeared down the fire escape.

Stunned, Dana went to the sofa and sat beside Mulder, who slumped like a rag doll.

After a while she got up and got her first aid kit, cleaned and bandaged the burns, spreading pain-killing salve delicately over the raw tissue.

He might need a graft. Some of them were third-degree, burns on top of burns.

How long had he been doing this?

Why hadn't she noticed?  

He mind ran over the past weeks, times when she had thought he was moving oddly, acting strangely. She'd chalked it up to stress.

Well, I guess he was stressed all right, she managed a bitter chuckle.

At last she covered him with a blanket, cuddled close to him, and turned on the TV. CNN, chipper voices droning on about things that didn't matter to her if he wasn't okay.

Dancer crept in near dawn. He looked better.

He brought her soup and milk and sat on Mulder's other side.

But Mulder still didn't move. He wasn't asleep, he opened his eyes and stared into space for hours at a time and then closed them again. But he wouldn't talk to them, wouldn't look at them.

"Catatonia?" Ru asked her around noon. They had been trying to watch a movie on HBO.

"Not exactly." Dana brushed her fingers over Mulder's face. He didn't move. "Semi, maybe. Self-induced hypnosis? I don't know."

"He'll be okay." Ru said quietly, firmly. "He just needed to get it out of his system."

But he winced and turned away when she uncovered the arm to spread more antibiotic cream on it.

"That's wrong." he said when she was done. "To hurt yourself that way. I don't understand."

"Neither do I."



The moon rose again but Dancer remained with her. The night before had filled him for a while, he could ignore her silver call tonight.

They were watching Conan after Dave when Mulder finally moved.

Actually, he didn't move much. Just his lips.

"*sorry*, Scully..." his eyes were still closed.

Jumping like she'd been shocked, Dana reined her emotions in and leaned close to whisper by his face.

"Mulder...it's okay. I love you."

Now he opened his eyes and she was surprised to see no tears in them.

"I know." he paused, seeming to search for words. "I love you too...I just don't know what to do with it sometimes."

"Not this." she touched his arm and he flinched. "Never again, Mulder. Promise me."

"Anything, Scully." he sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm so tired."

"Why don't we take a bath and go to bed." she stood, glancing at Dancer, who smiled at them.

He let himself be pulled from the couch and into the bathroom.

Behind them Dancer kept smiling.

It was going to be okay.

Really.



She bathed him with gentle hands, sitting cross-legged in front of him in the deep whirlpool tub. He sat up straight, eyes studying her face, wondering.

He laid a hand on the curve of her stomach and she smiled.

"You haven't seen the sono picture yet. He's a great-looking kid, just like his dad." she said lightly.

"I didn't find anything." he said. "Nothing about Mom, about Sam or you."

"So it's okay."

"I don't know." he closed his eyes and leaned forward into her chest, her arms came around him. "I don't know why I did it, Scully. It just seemed easier if the hurt was visible, obvious, where I could reach it. Like then it couldn't sneak up on me."

"And it let you feel things when you were afraid to."

He sat back up.

"The wrong things. I'm sorry I yelled. Sorry I ignored you. Sorry I cut you out."

He offered no excuses, no reasons. Just bald apology.

"I know." she stood, reaching for a towel. "I understand."

He followed, sat beside her on the bed.

"Do you?" his eyes caught hers, still wide and worried.

She leaned close and kissed him gently, his eyes staring into hers.

"Yes." she sighed against his lips.

They didn't need words now. He poured his love and pain equally into their lovemaking, giving everything to her and more, cleansing himself of his fears and leaving him whole in her arms.

"As long as we can talk...as long as we make love." she whispered to him as they lay tight together afterwards. "We'll be okay."

He didn't answer, idly tracing fingers around her stomach, thinking of the child within.

"Do you believe me?" she leaned to whisper, a hand in  his hair.

He looked at her. There was a new peace, hard-won, in his dark eyes.

"Yes."

And that was enough.
 

                                         saraid@wf.net