- Deslea's URL is now http://www.deslea.com or http://fiction.deslea.com.  
- Email address is now deslea@deslea.com.
- May be archived by Scully/Skinner specialty archives only.

This information supercedes all other information found in this file.

NEW Eden's Reprise *NC17 VERSION* 2/4
Deslea R. Judd
drjudd@primus.com.au drjudd@catholic.org
Copyright 1999, 2000

This work is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris 
Carter owned by him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-
Thirteen Productions.  Samantha Waters is the property of 
the owners of the show Profiler.  All other characters 
mentioned remain the intellectual property of Chris 
Carter et all and are used without their consent and 
without commercial gain.  Eden is the property of the 

Archive: OK to archive/forward, credited and without 
alteration (html formatting permitted).
Spoilers/Timeframe: After 5x20: The End.
Categories:  Story, Romance (Skinner/Scully, 
Mulder/Other), Mytharc/X-File, Angst, Crossover 
Author's notes: This story is in four parts, not two as 
previously advised.  No knowledge of Profiler is needed 
to read the story.  There's an in-joke for Santa Barbara 
fans.  Continuity notes in Part 1 disclaimer.
Rating: NC17 for sex.  A PG13 version will also be made 
available when the story is complete.
Summary: Scully's tour of duty in the Gulf with Skinner 
was only the beginning of an enduring love - and 
More stories at: http://home.primus.com.au/drjudd/fun.html. 
NEW! Get my stories automatically! Subscribe to my 
automated e-mail list by dropping a line to: 

The story to date:  Scully and Skinner served together in 
the Gulf and fell in love.  Upon their reunion at the 
FBI, they made love once.  They later discovered Emily 
was the child they were expecting when she was abducted.  
After the X Files were closed (The End), Mulder tried to 
re-open them, but unknown to him, Scully and Skinner 
testified before Congress to keep them shut down.  Scully 
became Skinner's aide, and Mulder returned to Violent 
Crimes Unit and was partnered with Samantha Waters 
(Profiler).  Scully was also  targeted by a serial 
killer, and the team handling the case includes Mulder, 
Waters, Tom Colton (Squeeze), and Linda Caleca 
(Apocrypha).  Mulder found out about the Congressional 
hearing, and confronted the couple, at which time they 
told him of their history, and claimed CSM had threatened 
to re-activate her cancer if they didn't testify.  They 
also revealed their marriage plans.  It was clear that 
they were holding something back, and the story now 
continues the next day.


14 October, 1998 (8.09am) (Present Day)
Office of the Special Aide to the Assistant Director
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	Scully was furious.
	"Damn it, Black Lung, what possible purpose was 
served by telling Mulder about Emily?  You want to start 
a new crusade here?"  She crossed the room with long 
strides, emphasising her message with fierce stabs with 
her heel.  Skinner looked on, his arms crossed, and said 
nothing; but he certainly looked antagonistic.
	"You know, I never liked Black Lung.  Not one of 
Mulder's better monikers." Deliberately, the Smoker drew 
deeply on his cigarette, a softly mocking expression 
glancing over his face.  His look was not so much 
sardonic as that of an indulgent parent.
	Skinner rolled his eyes.  "Spare me."  
	The Smoking Man blew a waft of smoke in the younger 
man's direction.  Irritated, Scully stalked up to him, 
grabbed the cigarette out of his hand and threw it into 
the wastebasket.  He looked affronted; but apparently 
decided to let it go, because his tone was conciliatory.  
"Look, Mulder came to me.  It was your own fault, Scully, 
after that stupid ladies' gab session with Samantha 
	Scully's look was unforgiving.  "I can't remember 
how it came up.  I told her about my military service - 
about how I served with you, Walter.  Girl talk."
	The Smoking Man said with mock sympathy, "Bad 
	"So I've heard," she retorted dryly.
	The Smoker sat back and put his crossed feet on 
Scully's desk.  "Apparently she was explaining to Mulder 
the ways in which you fit the profile of the 
Chrysanthemum Killer's victims.  They were all either 
feds or military - and you were both.  Of course Mulder 
wanted to know how she figured that.  That was when he 
contacted me.  He decided he wanted the whole story from 
its least sympathetic source."
	Scully lifted both his feet and dumped them 
unceremoniously.  "And of course you told him."  She 
brushed her hands together as though they might be 
	The older man's eyes twinkled.  He'd always liked 
her fire.  He scoffed, "Of course I did!  I couldn't be 
seen to be colluding with you - he'd wonder what we were 
hiding.  There's nothing like keeping information from 
Mulder to turn him into a bloodhound."
	Skinner grunted at this.  "So what exactly did you 
tell him?"
	"I told him you'd served together, as he already 
knew.  I told him about your deal with Blevins to get 
control of the X Files, Skinner."  He went on more 
quietly, "I told him about Emily, simply because you two 
had left such a massive paper trail on that one.  There 
was the second custody hearing and the civil case against 
Transgen Pharmaceuticals - congratulations on that one, 
by the way - and the death certificate, and the amended 
birth records.  If he'd ever thought to check it out, and 
he'd found out you were her father, Skinner, he'd wonder 
why I hadn't told him.  He'd have dug deeper...found out 
about Eden.  I was quite noncommittal about how I'd 
gotten you to testify against him."
	Scully, now calm, nodded slowly.  "Our stories hang 
together, at least.  We told him you threatened to 
activate my cancer."
	The Smoker looked on her with almost affectionate 
approval.  "That's a nice little foray into science 
fiction, Scully.  Well done."
	Skinner snarled, "Would it have killed you to have 
telephoned and warned us?"
	The older man smirked.  "I almost did, but I 
decided this way would be more fun."
	Scully's voice was grimly indulgent.  "You have the 
worst sense of humour."
	The Smoking Man laughed at that, and rose.  "It's 
probably best this way.  He thinks he knows everything 
now.  He'll stay out of our way."  He bowed his head 
theatrically at Scully before walking to the door; but 
then he stopped.  They waited.
	"Scully, when you get to Boston and you find that 
chrysanthemum, I want you to ask some questions about who 
left it there.  I think you'll find it was someone 
working for the killer - not the killer himself."
	Skinner went very pale.  "Are you saying-"
	He held up a hand.  "No, not Mulder.  I don't know 
who.  But when I do you'll be the first to know."
	Scully spoke.  "Why are you telling us this?"
	A tight, mirthless shrug at that.  "Because the 
only person allowed to put you two through hell is me."  
Then, more seriously, "And that's only because I have no 
	He closed the door gently after him, leaving them 
to consider.

14 October, 1998 (8:47am) (Present Day)
Violent Crimes Unit - Office Of SA Mulder and SA Waters
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	Samantha Waters stood silently in the doorway.
	She had watched for some time now.  Watching made 
her growing ache for him bearable.  It took her passion 
and eroded its edge, leaving only affection, which was 
all he would ever accept from her.  This indulgence left 
her free to return to her happy home and her full life 
without begrudging her empty bed.
	Well, not too much, anyway.
	He was standing, leaning against the fax machine, a 
document in his hand, which he had apparently just 
transmitted out.  Such an ordinary action in a day from 
the life of a public servant; but for Samantha, it 
represented something of her partner.  His dogged 
relentlessness, his endless search for answers, his 
determination to follow every minute trail in his bid for 
that glimmer which would show the way forward.  He was 
staring out the window now, and she thought she knew what 
he was thinking about.
	Or rather, who.
	"Fox?" she said at last.
	Mulder turned wearily.  "Hi, Samantha," he said 
	"Thanks for the welcome," she laughed.  "How long 
have you been here?"  She approached him as she spoke, 
then leaned in, sniffing his shirt.  Her mood sobered.  
"Oh, Fox.  You **didn't** come back here last night."
	He nodded ruefully.  "I can find answers here," he 
quipped.  He took a seat on the edge of his desk, and 
Samantha sat too, on the chair, nodding with some 
understanding.  His humour faded, and he said angrily, 
"Damn it, Sam, why didn't they didn't come to me?  We 
could have worked something out, surely."  His fury was a 
bright spark, but muted by bewilderment.
	"Fox," she said gently, "Have you considered that 
maybe they didn't **want** to work something out?"
	He stared at her, horrified incomprehension 
flitting over his features.  "What do you mean?" he 
asked, his suspicions flaring.  "Do you know something 
about this, Samantha?" he demanded.
	She became annoyed.  "Sure, Fox.  I'm with them.  I 
know the masterplan for the whole damn world.  I'm here 
on government payroll specifically to yank your chain."  
At his shamefaced look, she relented, having the good 
grace to smile, and Mulder did the same.  She continued, 
"They're **tired**, Fox.  Their daughter has been dead 
only ten months.  The X Files cost them so much.  Years 
of their life together.  Emily's abduction and death.  
Who could blame them if, on some unconscious level at 
least, they **wanted** it to be over?  If they wanted to 
be free?"
	Mulder nodded, moved by this.  "Yes," he said 
grudgingly, "I guess so."
	They were silent a long moment, then Samantha, 
hating herself for asking (for she couldn't be sure 
whether she was asking for him or for herself), said 
gently, "Does it bother you that she's with him?"  Then, 
more quietly, "I know you loved her-"
	He cut her off firmly.  "It isn't that.  I always 
knew she was...**closed** to me that way.  I didn't know 
why; whether it was a man or our conflict of religion or 
whether she was a very circumspect lesbian - those were 
only a few of the theories I had - but I knew there was 
something."  He gave a rueful smile.  "If it had to be 
someone, I'm glad it's him.  And I don't want her that 
way anymore," he revealed before he could stop himself; 
closed his mouth suddenly, annoyed with himself, and with 
	"No?" she asked, frankly doubtful.
	He gave an arrogant little grin then, leaned down, 
kissed her abruptly on the mouth, his tongue momentarily 
probing.  "No," he said, nose to nose with her, his tone 
one of amusement.  "I don't."  He pulled away, smirking 
at the flash of discomfort he perceived before she threw 
her head back, settling back in her chair, unflappable as 
	Samantha said nothing, only shot him an annoyed 
look, betraying none of her real, flaring anger at the 
gesture.  How dare he use her to make a statement about 
Scully?  Arching an eyebrow, she crossed her arms, 
sitting back, challenging him to put his money where his 
mouth was, if only so she'd have a chance to bite that 
presumptuous little tongue of his off.
	But to her surprise, he didn't take the bait, 
returning instead to their earlier line of discussion.  
He rose, his voice worried, suspicious.  "They were 
hiding something last night, Samantha.  You know that as 
well as I do."
	Her attention diverted, she nodded reluctantly.  
She said carefully, "Fox, Scully and the AD are good 
people.  Sound people.  I think we should trust them.  If 
they are withholding anything - and for the record, I 
agree with you that they are - I think we should submit 
to their judgement."
	Mulder watched her for a long moment, but shook his 
head.  "They had the X Files shut down," he said sharply.  
"I have a right to know why.  I can't just let it go," he 
added, his tone incredulous.  He met her worried gaze.  
"Are you with me?" he demanded abruptly.
	She shot him a gentle smile.  "Always.  But I don't 
agree with you, and I'm not going to help you," she said, 
without reproach.  He watched her in mild irritation as 
his instinctive fury dissipated as fast as it had arisen.  
How did she **do** that?
	"You don't have to," he said quietly.  He went to 
the door.  
	"Where are you going?" she asked.
	"Where it all began."

14 October, 1998 (9.03am) (Present Day)
Office of the Assistant Director
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	"Hi there, Kimberley.  Is he-"
	Kim pre-empted her.  "Go on through, Agent Scully.  
He's free."
	Nodding her thanks, Scully did as she was bidden.  
"Walter?" she said tentatively, pushing the door further 
	He was staring out the window.  "Yes, Dana?" he 
said morosely.
	She closed the door and went to him.  "What's 
wrong?" she asked gently.
	"What's always wrong?" he retorted.  Then, after a 
long moment, his shoulders slumped, and he said 
defeatedly, "I hate being under his thumb like this."
	She nodded slowly.  "I know," she said quietly, 
touching his arm.
	He turned then, a wan smile crossing his features.  
"Sorry - you know I get moody when we see him.  What is 
it that you wanted to see me about?"
	She sighed.  "Sorry to do this to you, Walter, but 
Tom Colton is out of commission.  We're going to have to 
find another partner for Caleca - which won't break her 
heart, by the way - and a new backup for our stalker."
	"Oh, Lord.  You mean we have to brief a new agent 
on a four-year-old case with an established cover 
operation?  That's going to be fun."  He shook his head 
in dismay.  "What happened to Colton, anyway?"
	"Car accident last night, on his way home from 
Georgie Girl, after you sent them off duty.  He'd already 
dropped Linda home, at least," she said resignedly.  
"He's okay, but he's got multiple fractures in both legs, 
and there's some severed nerves as well.  He'll be in 
hospital for a month."
	"Can't stand that man, but he's a good agent.  It's 
a loss."  He sighed.  "Anything else?"
	"Linda reported some interference on her radio 
signalling last night.  She's wondering whether our perp 
might have had some kind of frequency scanning devices.  
It's not likely, of course-"
	"But we have to check it out," Skinner finished for 
her.  "If so, that means he knows this is an operation, 
and he's playing us for his own purposes.  That's not 
good," he frowned.
	"But good that we know about it."
	"True.  All right, let's talk possible replacements 
for Colton.  There's Bob Fuller - I believe you've worked 
with him several times, and he and Caleca have been 
asking to be assigned together under the Work And Family 
policy for a while-"
	They were interrupted by Scully's cell phone, and 
she cursed.  "I can-" she began, but Skinner shook his 
	"No, take it," he said, "it could be a lead on 
	She opened the flip.  "Scully," she said, nodding 
at Skinner.
	"Agent Scully, this is Agent Guilliame at PathArc," 
came a woman's voice down the line.
	Scully nodded.  PathArc was shorthand for the 
Pathology Archival Facility in Arlington, Virginia.  The 
samples that had been tested (in whatever manner) at the 
Hoover eventually found their way there for long-term 
nitrogen storage.  "Yes, Guilliame?" she said curiously.
	"Agent Scully, I've had an urgent fax request come 
across my desk this morning from Agent Fox Mulder to 
release the blood samples taken from your home in August 
1994, when you were abducted.  Normally this would be an 
open-and-shut case - he's the investigating agent, so we 
would say yes - but there are privacy considerations at 
stake here."
	"I don't understand," Scully said quizzically.  She 
sat down, meeting Skinner's querying gaze.
	"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder demanded a full blood 
workup at the time of your abduction.  At the time I was 
Pendrell's offsider at the Hoover.  I remember it quite 
well.  He wanted to know if you'd been drugged.  We did 
tell him you might not have even had anything 
administered when you sustained the injury which caused 
the bleeding, and in any case it wouldn't have made it to 
your bloodstream yet, but he insisted."
	"He would," Scully said wryly.  "So what happened 
to make it a privacy issue?"
	"Well, during the endocrine series, we found the 
human pregnancy hormone, HCG.  We had quite a few 
discussions with our superior about whether or not to 
draw Agent Mulder's attention to the fact.  You weren't 
just a case; you were an employee.  You had a right to 
privacy.  We couldn't tell your partner you were pregnant 
- not without good reason.  We decided it didn't appear 
relevant to your abduction, and of course it wouldn't 
have made a difference in locating you.  So we didn't 
tell him."
	Scully's eyes grew very wide.  Skinner, watching 
her, frowned.  "You suppressed the information?" she 
asked, her body very stiff.
	"Not exactly.  The policy committee wouldn't let us 
actively conceal results from a test run that had been 
requested by an investigating officer, but nor were we 
obliged to draw his attention to it, either.  We sent the 
base results and a report interpreting them from a 
forensic point of view.  The report didn't mention the 
HCG levels, even though they appeared in the results 
readout.  He'd have to have waded through a thirty page 
readout to find it, and I doubt he would have - we'd 
reported on what he was looking for."
	"What he was looking for **then**," Scully 
corrected absently.  "Thank you for calling.  I would 
like you to refuse Agent Mulder's request, and I'd prefer 
he wasn't told who vetoed it.  Is he by any chance 
entitled to access the results over the network?" she 
asked, her expression tense.
	"Afraid so.  The policy committee felt he had a 
right to access whatever he'd asked for in the course of 
the investigation.  I can't override that on my own 
authority - that needs to be ordered by a section chief 
or above."
	"I have AD Skinner here - he'll authorise it."  
	Scully handed the phone to Skinner, who said 
quickly, "Whatever my Special Aide wants, Agent.  You 
have my authorisation."  He gave a numerical code, then 
handed the phone back to Scully, his look still puzzled.
	Agent Guilliame was speaking.  "Okay, Agent Scully, 
I'm activating that now."  Pause, the clattering of a 
keyboard.  "Just in time.  He's just tried to access it.  
It's vanished from before his eyes.  He'd had it up 8.094 
seconds - not long enough to see anything."
	Scully breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you, 
Agent Guilliame.  I appreciate the care you've taken, 
then and now, with my privacy.  It was a very private 
thing," she added hesitantly, "and I wouldn't have liked 
to have dealt with him knowing."
	"Not at all.  Glad to help.  You have a good day 
now," Guilliame said brightly.
	"And you, Agent," Scully said absently, then closed 
the flip.  She flung her head back with a moan.
	Skinner watched her for a long moment.  At last, he 
asked gently, "What was that all about?  And what did I 
authorise?" Quickly, Scully filled him in.
	He made a horrified sound.  "You mean he's had the 
proof in his files all along?  For the love of God, Dana!  
How did we miss that?"  He shook his head.  "Thank God 
for the fire in your office.  At least there's no hard 
copy left."
	Scully gasped, drawing her hand to her mouth.  
"Walter, some of those files survived.  The salvaged 
papers are at the Watergate."  Skinner got to his feet, 
and held out his hand to her.
	"Let's go."

14 October, 1998 (10.02am) (Present Day)
FBI Storage Facility #4
Watergate Apartments (Commercial Tenancies)
Washington, D.C.

	"I hope we're not too late," Scully breathed, 
threads of copper hair flying as she struggled to keep up 
with Skinner's long strides.
	"He was at the Hoover trying to access the report 
five minutes before we left," Skinner pointed out, with a 
confidence he didn't feel.
	"Which means he had five minutes lead time on us.  
And Mulder's forgotten more shortcuts through this city 
than I've ever known," she said.  "And even if we get 
there in time, he's onto us.  He knows there's something 
we're not telling him."
	"One spotfire at a time, Dana," he counselled.  
"Just one at a time."
	"Walter, if he reads that damn endocrine series-"
	They rounded the corner and barrelled straight into 
Mulder.  He had a thick charred file in his hand.
	"What if I read the damn endocrine series, Scully?" 
he asked grimly.  "What do you think I'll find?  That you 
were never pregnant to Skinner, and this whole Emily 
thing was something you and Cancerman cooked up to put me 
off the scent?" he demanded.
	Scully's eyes grew very wide.
	**He didn't know.  He hadn't seen.**
	She looked at him in dawning hope.  One last 
chance.  She had one last chance to salvage this thing.  
She snatched the file from him bitterly, hugging it to 
	"You got what you wanted, Mulder.  You found us 
out.  There was no pregnancy."  She bowed her head.  "You 
were right the first time about our sympathies.  We were 
in Counter-Biowarfare - both of us.  It was a cover 
operation - we've been together all along."  She shook 
her head.  "We'd never have jeopardised the operation by 
allowing me to become pregnant."
	Mulder regarded her steadily, then shook his head.  
"That was my theory when I came here, true.  But there's 
no getting out of this one, Scully.  I've already seen 
the endocrine series.  HCG through the roof."  
	Scully stared at him, then slumped against the 
wall, dropping the file on the floor miserably.  She hung 
her head in her hands for a long moment, before meeting 
his gaze once more.  Skinner's look was briefly 
horrified, then resigned.
	His voice was chiding, but not without compassion.  
"You'd say absolutely anything to stop me finding out, 
wouldn't you?"  He sighed in bewilderment, looking from 
one to the other.  "Don't you know I could have helped 
	Skinner shook his head.  "No, Mulder.  All you 
could have done was get her killed."
	"Where is she, Scully?" Mulder asked in a low, firm 
	Protectively, Skinner drew closer to Scully, and, 
wordlessly, she leaned against him, shaking silently, the 
stress and anguish of the last ten months momentarily 
taking hold.  He held her helplessly, looking painfully 
at Mulder.  
	The younger man looked on, compassion mingled with 
the relentlessness in his expression.  When Scully became 
still, she broke away from Skinner and allowed Mulder to 
embrace her, accepting his lingering kiss to her 
forehead.  He stayed there a long moment, said, "Scully?"  
He drew away, holding her face with tender hands.  She 
watched him calmly, with muted relief.
	"Where is Emily's twin?"


31 January, 1998
Office Of The Director
California Adoption Services
San Diego, California

	"Ms Scully, I'm sorry, but I've already had this 
discussion with your friend Mr Mulder, just after 
Christmas.  Those adoption files have been sealed.  I 
couldn't release them if I wanted to."
	Scully said with quiet force, "The situation has 
changed since then, Mrs Wardell.  In the matter of Scully 
and Skinner versus San Diego Children's Services, Judge 
Maibaum found that Emily was unlawfully taken at the time 
of her birth by a person or persons unknown, and that 
that person surrendered our daughter for adoption without 
a legal right to do so.  Our parental rights were 
restored," she added.  "Emily's adoption and all 
paperwork surrounding it is invalid, and may lead us to 
people wanted for kidnapping.  That means it's open 
season on those documents."
	Mrs Wardell said very evenly, "I'm sorry about your 
daughter, Ms Scully, and I'm sorry about all that you've 
been through in the last month.  More than anything, I'm 
so sorry that we are in any way connected with what 
happened to you."  Her expression was kind, but firm.  
"But the California Adoption Service has legal realities 
that it must consider in our dealings with you.  I really 
think we need to communicate through our lawyers on this 
- for everyone's protection."
	Walter's tone was conciliatory.  "Look, Mrs 
Wardell, we understand you may have fears about civil 
liability in this matter.  We're quite sure that the 
people who took our daughter were very careful to present 
paperwork that appeared to be in order.  We're not after 
you.  We're after the people who took our little girl.  
We can make it a legal matter and a federal matter if you 
force us, but that's not what we're seeking to do here."
	The woman looked at the two of them for a long 
moment, then relented.  She took off her glasses with a 
sigh.  "Look, even in light of Scully versus San Diego, I 
can't release those documents without a court order 
specifically ordering me to do so.  The board would fire 
me in an instant.  But I have no doubt you could get that 
court order, so what I can do is tell you a story.  
Without prejudice and off the record."
	Scully nodded.  "Go on," she said softly.
	"All right.  In February, 1995, I was approached by 
a Dr Ernest Calderon, of Transgen Pharmaceuticals - they 
operate over in Chuna Vista.  He said he represented the 
natural mother, who he claimed was Anna Fugazzi, as well 
as Emily herself, who was already involved in clinical 
trials over at Transgen."
	"Wasn't that a little strange?"
	"Well, I thought so, but his credentials checked 
out, as did his involvement with Emily Fugazzi.  He 
claimed Anna wanted him to check out any prospective 
adoptive parents to ensure they were equipped to cope 
with her illness, as well as making sure she stayed in 
the trials.  It was a stretch, but I could imagine this 
young mother on her own, and him taking a shine to her, 
and agreeing to help her.  I could see it."  She shrugged 
	Scully nodded slowly.  "And he met the Sims?"
	"Eventually.  There were two other couples he 
refused to give the consents for.  One was because the 
prospective mother refused to guarantee she would never 
remove Emily from the trials.  The other couple withdrew 
- it was a mutual decision.  I never knew what the 
problem was."  Wardell's look was puzzled.  "Marshall and 
Roberta Sim were happy to continue with the trials, and 
Roberta in particular proved to be a very loving and 
involved parent.  She even took hormones to stimulate her 
milk.  I believe she nursed Emily until she was two years 
old."  Scully flinched - another loss.
	Walter spoke.  "It sounds like you kept in touch," 
he said quietly.
	"Yes, we did.  We like our adoptive parents to 
supply letters about the children on a six-monthly basis 
for the natural parents.  Some parents refuse, but 
Roberta Sim was quite diligent about it.  It's a way of 
easing the sting of closed adoption.  Anna Fugazzi never 
claimed them - obviously, now, because she didn't exist."  
Wardell added,  "Since you're undeniably the natural 
parents, I can give you those."
	Scully closed her eyes painfully, fighting back 
sudden tears.
	"We'd like that."

14 October, 1998 (10:21am) (Present Day)
FBI Storage Facility #4
Watergate Apartments (Commercial Tenancies)
Washington, D.C.

	"What did the letters say?" Mulder asked gently.
	Scully bowed her head.  "About what you'd expect 
from a doting mother.  Emily walked late and talked early 
- an academic through and through," she added with a 
laugh.  "She liked Sesame Street, especially Elmo; and 
she watched The Lion King on a daily basis throughout her 
second year.  Marshall doted on her, too - taught her to 
swim and to ice skate.  She was baptised and she attended 
a Methodist church in San Diego."  She blinked back 
fleeting tears.  "They filled in a lot of blanks, but 
they were blanks only Walter and I cared about.  Not 
blanks in the case."
	"But weren't they, really, the blanks you were 
looking for?" he queried.
	"They were, but they weren't enough.  Until we 
could get those years with her back, nothing would ever 
be enough.  So even though we knew it was futile-" she 
stopped.  Mulder, thinking of his sister, nodded with 
	"You kept looking?"
	"We kept looking."

1 February, 1998
Home of Holly and Eduardo Roma
Santa Barbara, California

	"So you're saying that little girl wasn't meant to 
be adopted?"
	Skinner said gently, "Please don't be alarmed about 
your own child's status, Mrs Roma.  The California 
Adoption Service has no complicity in what happened to 
Emily.  There's no reason to think there's any problem 
with your adoption.  It was an isolated incident."
	Holly frowned.  "Thank God I didn't take her, I 
guess.  She was a beautiful baby - I fell in love with 
her the two times I saw her.  Crazy for cuddles and 
kisses.  I hope she got them where she wound up."
	Scully smiled sadly.  "Yes - yes, we think she did.  
The adoptive mother idolised her."
	Skinner asked curiously, "Ms Roma, if you adored 
Emily, why didn't you go through with the adoption?"
	"Well, it wasn't really about Emily," the woman 
said, still frowning.  "It was about Eden."
	"Eden?" Scully echoed stupidly.
	Forgetting, for a moment, that Anna Fugazzi had 
never existed, Holly Roma said cautiously, "Don't get me 
wrong.  I knew the natural mother's reasons, and maybe 
they was right, about not wanting Eden to live with 
Emily's illness - but breaking them up...no, I couldn't 
be part of that."
	There was a long, long moment of silence.  Holly 
Roma, a very sweet woman with absolutely no sense of 
atmosphere, didn't seem to notice.  The two shared a 
long, agonised glance, some sluggish, low-grade telepathy 
between them, fleeting vague impressions being exchanged.  
By unspoken agreement, both turned calmly back to face 
Mrs Roma.  She was watching them with a sweetly vacuous 
	Scully was very pale.  She said, very carefully, 
with unnatural control, "I'm sorry, Mrs Roma - am I to 
understand that Emily had a twin?"
	The vapid woman suddenly turned fierce.  "That's 
right.  You know, I only got to eighth grade, and I lived 
in a trailer park until I met Eduardo, and God knows I 
don't know nothing about anything much, but - shit, even 
I know you don't break up twins!  Nine months floating 
together and touching one another, and that person's the 
only person you really **know** - and then to split them 
up to suit some stupid adult-" Holly Roma broke off.
	Skinner spoke very evenly.  "Did you ever meet 
Eden, Ms Roma?"
	Holly Roma shook her head.  "Never.  I asked that 
doctor guy about Emily's family.  I didn't really 
understand all that auto-immune crap he was spouting, but 
I figured anything like that you could probably use blood 
or bone marrow or something for.  He hemmed and hawed a 
bit, and finally he told me there was an identical twin.  
I wanted to adopt her, too - partly for Emily and partly 
just because it seemed right, y'know?"  At Scully's 
stunned nod, she continued, oblivious, "I got real angry 
with him.  He wanted to pay us ten thousand bucks a month 
to keep her in the trials, but he wouldn't keep her and 
her sister together - and the sister might have been her 
best chance, it seemed like.  It was like, the twins, the 
money, the tests - it all felt wrong."  She smiled 
reflectively.  "My little one's mother was an alcoholic 
kid.  No better than I'd have been if I hadn't met my 
Eduardo.  She told us she wanted better for her baby than 
she could give.  We promised we'd do our best for her.  
That's what adoption's s'posed to be."
	Scully nodded sadly.  "Yes, I believe you're 

1 February, 1998
Capwell Hotel
Santa Barbara, California

	They made it as far as the hotel before they broke.
	Calmly, they farewelled Holly Roma.  Calmly, they 
got in the car.  Calmly, they arrived at the hotel and 
handed the car over to the valet.  Calmly, they checked 
for messages with the concierge.  Slightly less calmly, 
they made their way up in the elevator to their suite.
	As they emerged in the empty corridor, Skinner 
began to tremble.  He fumbled for the key and dropped it 
- twice.  Finally, he managed to get the door open, and 
staggered in, shell-shocked.
	Scully followed him, moving stiffly, as though 
she'd been hit.  He closed the door gently behind her, 
and slumped against it, banging his head against it very 
softly, over and over again.
	"Twins," he moaned softly.  "Twins, twins, twins."
	It was this which undid her.
	She tried to go to him, to comfort him, but she 
only got as far as leaning against the door and touching 
his shoulder before her legs gave way.  She slid to the 
floor, her knees drawn up to her breasts, her head buried 
somewhere in the middle.  She was weeping, hysterical.
	At some point he sat down beside her with a thud.  
He made no move to comfort her, recognising it as 
impossible, but simply sat there and stared dully at her.  
She shook with wrenching sobs, and in his own quiet, raw 
way, he wept, too.
	Eventually, she raised her head, her face streaked 
with tears.  With heartbreaking simplicity, she declared, 
"I want my baby."
	He held her then, and he told her softly, his words 
an oath:
	"And if it's the last thing I do, Dana, you shall 
have her."

14 October, 1998 (10:38am) (Present Day)
FBI Storage Facility #4
Watergate Apartments (Commercial Tenancies)
Washington, D.C.

	"Why would they break them up?" Mulder demanded.
	Scully shrugged miserably.  "Don't want to put all 
your eggs in one basket, I guess," she said acidly.  Her 
voice was bitter.
	Skinner supplied, "We wondered the same thing.  We 
chased after Transgen Pharmaceuticals for several months, 
at both criminal and civil levels; but in June, they 
agreed to hand over all Dr Calderon's records - as well 
as a financial settlement - if we absolved them of civil 
liability.  We found out a lot about Emily's illness, and 
we found confirmation of the existence of a twin, but it 
seemed quite clear that Calderon had not had anything to 
do with whatever happened to Eden, nor did he ever know 
exactly who did."
	"So you were back at square one."
	"We were - until a few days later."

10 June, 1998
Office of the Assistant Director
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	"What do you want?"
	Scully stared down at the array of pictures before 
them - pictures of a baby with reddish-blonde hair, 
pictures of a two-year-old holding a ball and flashing a 
toothy smile, pictures of a three-year-old asleep after a 
hard day.  She stared up at the Smoking Man fearfully.
	"Well?  You've convinced us you have her, so what 
do you want?"
	The man leaned back in his chair with a smile.  
"Let me tell you a story.  It all starts with a man named 
Fox Mulder who just won't quit, and a Congressional Panel 
which, with your help, is going to make him.  **Mommy**."
	So they heard him out, and they did as he said.

14 October, 1998 (10:49am) (Present Day)
FBI Storage Facility #4
Watergate Apartments (Commercial Tenancies)
Washington, D.C.

	"So that's why we testified against you, Mulder.  
It was never about Dana's cancer."
	The two men were alone.  Scully had left them a few 
moments before, her 11.15 flight to Boston giving her 
little choice.
	"You should have told me."  Mulder glared at him 
accusingly.  Skinner said nothing in his defense, only 
watched him.  After a moment, the younger man relented.  
"Did he threaten to hurt Eden?"
	Wearily, Skinner shook his head.  "No.  They need 
her - we don't know exactly why.  In his own slimy 
criminal way, he's been almost decent to us.  He gave us 
a lot of things he didn't really have to - photographs, 
videos.  We know more about her, the sort of child she 
is, than we ever knew about Emily."  He hung his head for 
a long moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if in 
pain.  "But they didn't have to threaten us.  They have 
her, and that's all they need to have us against a wall."
	Mulder nodded slowly, still a little angry, but not 
without compassion.
	"Yes, I suppose you're right."


14 October, 1998 (3.07pm)
Office Of The Director
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	The Director had been silent for a long time.
	"Walter, I don't really know what to do with this," 
he said at last.  He tossed a thin document on the desk.  
"The Work and Family policy doesn't entitle you to marry 
your subordinate and keep her as your underling.  It 
actively attempts to avoid such arrangements."
	Skinner nodded slowly.  "Look, Andy, I know this is 
a tough one.  But whatever you may think of the work 
Scully has been doing, there is no doubt about her 
integrity, nor, I hope, about mine.  She does some damn 
good work for me.  I wouldn't like to lose her.  Please 
don't break up a good working relationship over this 
marriage."  He frowned.  "There's no question of 
favouritism.  I have no other Special Aides I could be 
accused of treating differently to how I treat her.  And 
her appointment to that position was a transparent 
process in which you and Assistant Director Randolph co-
chaired the panel."
	The Director shifted uneasily.  "Yes, but Walt, she 
was the only applicant.  It wasn't an advertised position 
- you invited her to apply."  He looked unhappy.
	Skinner protested, "In order to solve the problem 
of what to do with her after the X Files were shut down.  
Hell, you thought it was a brilliant idea!"
	The Director nodded.  "And I still do," he 
conceded.  "I can and will stand by you on that, and 
certainly there's no doubt she deserved the position.  
But the issue could well become, there were other people 
who also deserved the position who didn't get a chance to 
apply because of your relationship - regardless of 
whether or not that is actually the case."
	Skinner shook his head.  "No.  There are precedents 
for that.  That's not favouritism - it's headhunting, 
pre-selection.  In my case, it was done in consultation 
with you and Randolph.  There were checks and balances in 
place.  Even if I was coloured by my feelings for her, 
you two weren't.  We have a defense in the case of 
inquiry, and it's a sound one."
	Long moment of silence; then, at last, "I know 
you're right.  Scully's one of the best.  Everyone's 
mystified by what she does, but no-one has any doubt that 
she does it well - certainly not me.  Her list of 
commendations is a mile long.  If she hadn't gotten 
caught up with that damn Mulder she'd be on the 
management track by now."  The Director breathed out 
slowly.  "Look, Walt, lots of agents marry.  Brian Fuller 
and Linda Caleca are a prime example of it working, and 
working well.  But you're her direct superior.  That's a 
bit different."
	Skinner sighed.  "I know that.  But Andy, Dana and 
I have loved one another for many years - since before 
the Bureau, in fact. You've seen us work together in that 
time.  Do you really think our relationship has 
compromised our conduct?  I have subjected her to just as 
tough expectations as any of my agents - maybe even more 
	The older man shook his head.  "No, I don't.  But I 
still have to justify myself.  You two tend to get 
yourselves eyeball-deep in slime and refuse to walk away.  
I admire you for that, but you've each come before 
Congress twice now.  If something like that happened 
again, if you made some mistake, and it came out that I 
had let you work together - it's my ass."
	"Then put safeguards in place.  Accountability to 
you, something, please.  But Andy, I don't want to be 
here without her watching my back.  There's no-one else I 
	The Director gave a long sigh.  "Look, Walt, I 
don't really understand the work you do - especially when 
it comes to those damn X Files.  I personally breathed a 
sigh of relief when they were shut down.  So if you say 
you need her, I believe you.  But why do you have to 
marry her?  It makes things so much more complicated.  It 
makes it necessarily a public matter."
	"It needs to be public, Andy," Skinner said with 
conviction.  "Otherwise we're prime fodder for blackmail.  
And anyway, Dana and I don't believe in that.  We're not 
going to sneak around and we're not going to screw in 
hotel rooms and most of all, we're not going to 
compromise our beliefs just to keep the Bureau happy.  We 
believe in marriage."
	The Director seemed affected by this, and he 
frowned.  At last, he nodded.
	"All right."

14 October 1998 (7.19pm)
Home of Samantha Waters
Bethesda, Maryland

	"Take me off the speaker."
	Samantha glanced at her friend, grinning.  "It's 
off, Mulder," she lied.
	Tinny sound of a sigh.  "You're going to make me do 
this in front of Angel, aren't you?"
	Samantha struggled against brewing laughter.  "Call 
it an act of contrition.  Did you know the early 
Christians made their penitents confess before the whole 
community?"  Angel snickered.
	Mulder closed his eyes wearily.  "All right.  All 
right!  I was a prick this morning, and I'm sorry.  Can I 
please come in?"
	"What are you sorry for again, Fox?"
	Reluctantly, Mulder said, "I'm sorry I kissed you 
the way I did."  Angel's eyes grew wide, and she mouthed, 
**He kissed you?**  Samantha ignored her. "It was an 
arrogant, presumptuous thing to do."
	"It wasn't presumptuous, Fox.  It was mean.  Point-
scoring, nothing more."
	 Mulder winced.  "Can we discuss this face to 
	Samantha relented.  Wordlessly, she buzzed him in, 
and settled down to wait.
	By the time Mulder entered the room, Angel had 
tactfully withdrawn - not before extracting a promise of 
details from her friend.  They were alone.  Samantha 
watched him, but said nothing.
	He flopped down on the lounge at her side.  "It 
wasn't just point-scoring," he said at last.  She waited, 
and at last he went on, "I was angry with you for drawing 
me out on the Scully-Skinner thing."
	"It was private territory," she conceded.  "I 
probably should have kept my mouth shut."
	"No, that's just it," he insisted.  "I was angry 
because I should have made my...position clearer, sooner.  
I was angry with myself for not realising it, and angry 
with you for pointing it out."
	"So what is your position, Fox?" she asked quietly.
	He was silent for a long moment, but at last, he 
said fiercely, "I don't want her."  Then, meeting her 
gaze, "I want you."
	"And I want you," she said evenly.  "But you knew 
	A smile flitted across his face.  "I guess maybe I 
	"Then why-"
	He cut her off.  "I'm not so good at pursuing the 
things that make me happy, Samantha.  I haven't had a lot 
of practice."
	"You could practice on me," she said wryly.
	"Maybe I could."
	He leaned forward then, kissed her, just once, then 
drew away.  She gave a sweet smile, but then said 
quietly, "What's on your mind, Fox?"
	He looked at her a moment, then nodded.  He said 
without preamble, "There's a twin."
	Samantha frowned.  "I don't understand."
	"Scully and Skinner.  There was a second baby," he 
revealed.  "Cancerman has her.  That's what they were 
hiding last night."  He shook his head.  "Bloody hell."
	Samantha looked at him, stunned.  "That's - God, 
how do you make sense of something like that?"  Then, 
thinking of her daughter, she faltered twice, thinking 
out loud, before finally saying, "They do say that a 
missing child is sometimes worse than a dead one for the 
	Mulder, thinking of the other Samantha, said, "I 
think that's probably true."
	"But they - one gone, the other alive - how have 
they survived?  And these people-" she broke off.
	"I know," he said grimly.  "Believe me, I know."
	"She's not sick like Emily, is she?"
	"No.  She appears to have been kept quite 
independently of Emily, and used for different purposes.  
They have videos - she seems to be in good health."
	"But **why**?" she demanded.  "What's so damn 
special about Scully and Skinner's babies that they kept 
	"Exactly my question."
	She went on, her mind racing, "It couldn't be 
straight experiments, surely.  There's no shortage of 
kids for adoption - not if you're not picky about race.  
Much less complicated than kidnapping.  As much as I hate 
to get into their mindset, that's how I'd do it."
	Mulder was nodding.  "I agree.  It has to be 
something particular to them."  He went on cautiously, 
"We do know Emily had something wrong with her, something 
the rebels were interested in."
	Samantha dispensed with her usual arguments - she 
had her own theory about the rebel cause - and simply 
asked, "Are you sure they were rebels?"
	"I think so.  If they were working with Cancerman, 
and he managed to keep Eden not only alive, but healthy, 
I'm sure Emily would be, too."  Mulder shook his head.  
"The abduction," he said with certainty.  "Something done 
to Scully while she was pregnant."
	"That seems most likely, but you can't count on it.  
What about Skinner?  He was in Counter-Biowarfare," she 
pointed out.  "What if he was exposed to something?"
	Mulder considered this.  "That's a thought," he 
conceded, "but I can't imagine it would have been 
anything unique.  Besides, he was upper management.  
Usually it's the lackeys who bear the consequences of 
these things.  And his area would have been antidotes, 
not weapons."
	"Sometimes the cure is worse than the cause," 
Samantha said slowly.
	"True.  We'll ask them."  He hazarded fruitlessly, 
"It **could** have just been opportunity.  They wanted to 
do tests, and the babies were there.  Maybe whatever it 
was, was done to them later."
	Sensing Mulder's frustration, Samantha intervened.  
"Look, we're reinventing the wheel here.  Let's wait 'til 
Scully gets home from Boston and then we'll talk it all 
out.  They'll have covered this ground already."
	Mulder nodded reluctantly.  "All right."
	"So what else happened after I left this morning?" 
she asked quickly, hoping to divert him.
	He knew he was being played, but went along anyway, 
acknowledging her wisdom.  "A couple of things.  I got 
your e-mail - is Chloe all right?" he asked.
	She nodded.  "Stomach bug.  Goes by the name 
Postponus Mathematicus Examinus.  She says she'll be fine 
tomorrow.  I'm inclined to agree."  Mulder laughed.  
	"First up - Tom Colton had a car accident last 
night.  He's fine, but he did a pretty good job of 
working himself over.  He'll be in rehab for a month.  
He's busted half the nerves in his legs - he's basically 
got to learn to walk again, poor bastard."
	Samantha winced.  "Poor old Tom.  I'll go see him 
tomorrow after work.  He's at Georgetown Medical, I 
	"Georgetown Rehabilitation.  He was transferred 
there straight from surgery," he told her.  "You two get 
on all right, don't you?" he added, curiously.
	"Tom's all right.  More ambition than smarts, 
maybe."  She laughed.  "I do like him.  I think, if you'd 
met under other circumstances, you'd have gotten on well.  
You've got a lot in common."
	"I'll take *that* as an insult," he said 
	"It's not meant to be."
	"I'll take your word for it.  Anyway, the point of 
that is, we now have Brian Fuller on our team."
	"How did we wind up with him?  Fuller's more of a 
straight investigator than cover ops."
	"He and Caleca have wanted to be assigned together 
since they got married apparently.  And he has the right 
skills.  Skinner seems to think he'll be fine."
	"Oh, I've no doubt.  It just seemed like an odd 
	"I suspect Skinner wanted to be seen to be 
supporting the Work and Family policy himself before 
applying to keep Scully as his aide, too."
	Samantha grinned at that.  "Aha!" she exclaimed.  
"Okay.  You said there were two things?"
	Mulder's smile faded.  "Bad news.  Caleca had 
interference last night.  We think this perp is onto us, 
and that he's listening in on our cover ops."
	Samantha frowned.  "That's not good.  I suppose 
we're switching to scrambled transmission?"
	He shook his head.  "Skinner wants to turn it to 
our advantage.  In any case, it's not a cover operation 
anymore, exactly, is it?  Scully and Skinner are really 
	Samantha nodded.  "I've been thinking about that.  
This ups the ante," she said slowly.  "If he's been 
thinking it's a snowjob all along and then discovers it 
isn't, we could be in trouble."
	"The cover operation is changing tack for now.  Now 
we're pretending it's a cover op when it isn't."
	"Run that by me again?"
	Mulder explained, "We pretend the whole engagement 
thing is a cover operation to buy time.  Then, we can 
engineer the moment of truth, as it were, and be ready 
when we flush him out."
	"A double negative.  That's good," she said, not 
without admiration.  "It's risky, though.  What if he's 
Bureau?  I've said all along he's in law enforcement.  If 
so, he'd know it's all true as soon as they announce 
their engagement.  Same if there's any publicity - this 
is a government town, and Skinner is a major player.  It 
could hit the social pages.  He could strike with us 
	Mulder shook his head.  "We'll imply that we 
suspect exactly that and that we're moving into deep 
cover.  This transmission thing is perfect - we have a 
direct line to him.  We can manage the information 
available to him down to the letter."
	Samantha shook her head doubtfully.  "We're buying 
into his game.  We could trip him up, but I think he 
could trip us up too."
	"We don't have many other options here.  They want 
to get married next month.  We really have to apprehend 
him before that.  That means an airtight plan.  No more 
screwing around."
	She nodded her agreement.  "True."  She looked up 
at him.  "While we're on the subject, Skinner e-mailed me 
this morning, asking me to see if the chrysanthemum in 
Boston was delivered by a florist, rather than 
	Mulder looked alarmed.  "Does he think-"
	"No," she said hurriedly, "not you.  But I did take 
the liberty of seeing if you had an alibi, and you do.  
You're still in the clear."
	He gave a relieved sigh.  "Thanks," he said, not 
very graciously.
	Samantha noted his tone, but let it go.  He 
couldn't be expected to relish being a murder suspect.  
"His instinct was right.  I found the florist eventually, 
but the guy paid over the internet using one of those 
prepaid internet currency services.  He set up his 
account with the service by postal note issued in DC.  We 
did an IP search from the florist server logs - 
fortunately he used a service with static IP addresses 
rather than dynamic - but it just led to a net cafT in 
Georgetown.  I have people looking at the security videos 
from the post office and the net cafT, but I don't think 
we'll find anything.  Your alibi," she added, "is that 
the Chrysanthemum team was in a briefing at the time the 
order was transmitted."
	Mulder nodded.  "Does this guy have a nickname or 
account name?"
	"Guess," she said, sitting back.
	He thought for a few moments.  "Chrys with a Y?" he 
asked, at last.
	Samantha nodded.  "Chrys Syrhc.  Forward and 
backward.  Asshole."
	"Can't fault him for symmetry."
	She gave a snort, then fell silent.
	They sat in companionable silence for some time; 
but at last, he spoke.  "Samantha?"
	He looked a little sheepish; said hesitantly, "I'm 
not going to talk serial killers and kidnapped babies and 
then proposition you.  I'm not credited with a lot of 
sensitivity, but I do a little better than that, I hope," 
he added with a grin.  "But-" he stopped, then continued, 
"One day, Samantha, I'm going to ask.  One day soon."
	She smiled.  "I'll be waiting, Fox."
	He leaned forward, and kissed her, and then he 


15 October, 1998 (8.04pm)
Home of Dana Scully
Annapolis, Maryland

	Skinner was beaming.
	"You look happy," Scully said with a smile, letting 
him in.
	"I am.  How was Boston?" he asked.
	"Boston was typical - quiet as a dead 
chrysanthemum," she quipped.  "Our vigilante agent has 
been found and demoted, and his would-be disciples 
censured," she reported.  "Now tell me what's got you so 
	He beamed.  "The Director okayed us working 
together after we get married.  Weekly accountability 
reports to him and monthly supervision meetings, but 
other than that, no conditions."
	She stared at him.  "No!"
	He nodded.
	She threw her arms around him with a cry of 
excitement.  "Walter, how did you manage that?  That's 
wonderful!" she said in amazement.
	He lifted her at the waist, kissing her happily.  
"Dana, it's all coming together."  He let her down to the 
floor gently.
	"I actually feel engaged now - like it's really 
going to happen at last," she marvelled.
	"I've got something else that might make you feel 
engaged," he said mischievously, holding up a small glint 
of gold.
	"You got a ring?" she chastised.  He held it up to 
her, just beneath eye level.  "Walter, I told you, I 
don't need-" 
	She stopped short, her eyes widening.  
	"Oh, my," she breathed at last.  "That's - it's 
	He held it out on his palm, and she took it, 
drawing in her breath.  "Topaz?" she asked softly.
	"Yellow sapphire.  The crystal embedded down the 
crevice inside is quartz."
	"This didn't come from any jeweller," she 
whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
	He shook his head, smiling faintly.  "You knew my 
grandfather was a miner in Russia?" he asked.  At her 
nod, he went on, "This stone, and the rest of the 
formation it was hewn from, was the one that bought him 
passage to America - and eventually led me to you, now 
that I think of it," he added.  "I went home to Vermont 
and had it made overnight.  I thought of having it cut 
	She silenced him with a hand on his mouth, gazing 
at its irregularities.  "No, no, you'd have ruined it.  
It's perfect."
	"I'm having wedding bands made as well.  They've 
got fragments of the stone embedded."
	She looked up at him once more.  "What on earth 
made you think of this?" she asked in wonder.
	He laughed.  "You'll think I'm crazy."
	"No, I won't," she reproved mildly.  "Tell me."
	He relented.  "Well - the yellow - it made me think 
of that night we were together.  We were in the light of 
the fire - your skin was gold.  And the quartz-" he 
stopped; then, suddenly at a loss for words, he glanced 
down, his fingertips brushing her belly, and she 
	"We made the twins that night.  The quartz-" she 
broke off, unable to speak.
	"Everything we've shared was captured in that 
instant, Dana.  We're so much more than that night and 
that time and those children - and yet in another way 
everything that matters is right there."
	She touched his cheek, cradled it for a long 
moment.  "Put it on me," she whispered, holding out her 
hand.  It was trembling.  He did as he was bidden, taking 
her hand and kissing her palm when he was done.  "Oh, 
Walter," she breathed, leaning up to him, her lips 
touching to his.
	He caught her in his arms, more firmly than usual, 
kissed her possessively.  "You're mine," he breathed 
tenderly - words she would have despised from anyone else 
- then, "and I'm yours."
	"Yes," she whispered against his mouth, her lips 
brushing him maddeningly.
	"I remember you on the Kennedy," he breathed, his 
forehead against hers, hands entwined with hers.  "You 
were so young and so brilliant and so fierce.  I came to 
and you were touching my cheek, and it all began, right 
	She smiled against him, her hands finding his 
chest.  Her gaze never leaving his, she unfastened most 
of the buttons there, spreading the folds of fabric wide; 
found the scar on his chest by touch, traced it 
delicately.  He made a low sound as she bent forward to 
kiss it tenderly.  "You'd trusted me with your life." Her 
lips were moving against his flesh, moving up toward his 
neck, and he swallowed hard.  "Once I'd touched you, I 
couldn't seem to let go again."  She kneaded his flesh 
with her mouth, capturing him, caressing him, finding his 
mouth with hers once more.
	He cradled her head, hair spilling between his 
fingers, drawing her in to him; found her eager, holding 
him by the shoulders.  She was open for him, her mouth 
waiting, questing, greedy.  Tight, quiet breaths of 
barely restrained need escaped her.  "Oh - oh -" she 
managed between kisses, "Walter-"
	He made a low sound of desire, his hands finding 
her ivory throat, caressing it; and then he bent to kiss 
her there, intoxicated with her.  She gasped, looking 
down, watching him, her hands on his shoulders, pushing 
back the shirt to trace the strong lines of him.  She 
slid questing palms under the fabric to search his arms, 
his shoulders, his neck.  "Walter," she breathed, 
flinging back her head, lolling it there aimlessly, 
helplessly, as she felt him unbutton her shirt, parting 
it, letting cool air wash over her skin.
	He kissed her shoulders, her neck, his hands on 
her, one hand cradling her hip, the other at her breast, 
delicately exploring the lightly restrained flesh there, 
fingers tracing the contours of the lace of her bra.  He 
bent his head, nuzzling her there, marvelling at the 
milky-white softness there, the sweet scent invading his 
senses.  Then, with a gentle kiss, he moved on, tracing 
her belly, her navel with his mouth, cherishing her with 
little kisses.
	With a sigh, he knelt before her, his arms around 
her waist, and, as each had done so many times before, he 
looked up at her, really looked: beyond the soft, ivory 
skin and the captivating eyes and the heady scents, he 
beheld her, this woman he loved, wanted, needed, 
worshipped; this woman who was everything to him, the sum 
of all he desired and needed.  And as always, he felt the 
white hot need ebbing away, still needy, still longing 
and craving, but not greedy, his desire something else 
now, something selfless, giving.
	She held his face between her palms, calm now, the 
shudders and sighs at rest.  She was smiling, knowing.
	He gave a low sigh, and buried his face in her 
belly.  "No further," he said resignedly, his voice 
muffled.  His hands, at the small of her back, cradled 
	Laughing, she dropped to her knees before him.  
"You set us both up that time," she said indulgently.  
"One cold shower for you."
	"It's times like this," he whispered against her 
lips, "that I wish-"
	"You weren't an honourable man," she finished.
	"Something like that."
	"No, you don't," she said, smiling wryly.  "And 
neither do I."
	"Not at all?" he asked mischievously, one hand 
trailing up her exposed skin, teasing.
	"Maybe just a little," she conceded, laughing.
	They sat facing one another in affectionate silence 
for a few moments.  At last, he spoke.
	"You're not angry?"
	She shrugged.  "This agreement we reached - this 
waiting - it wasn't only for you, Walter.  When we 
crossed paths again, at work, I'd lost my faith."  
Crossing her legs to get more comfortable, she explained, 
"Losing you - losing this gift God had given me - I 
couldn't make sense of that.  That was why, when we 
reconciled - when we made the twins - that was why I 
asked you to make love to me.  The old values, including 
the ones about waiting, had lost a lot of their meaning.  
I wanted you with me, and I'd lost sight of the fact that 
you were always with me."  She shot him a gentle smile, 
and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
	"I was one of the first for you, wasn't I?" he 
ventured softly - something he had sensed but never 
	"Was it that obvious?" she laughed.
	"No," he laughed automatically, then stopped.  
"Well - yes," he went on thoughtfully.  At her querying 
expression, he explained, "I don't mean technique.  There 
was something about you.  Almost a wonder about you."
	She nodded.  "There had been three times with Jack, 
the week before I left for the Gulf," she revealed.  
"That was all.  But it was more than the newness of the 
sensations," she added.  "My wonder was at you.  It was 
at how it was possible to feel so much," she explained.  
Then, more quietly, "I never thought I could love someone 
as much as I loved you then.  But I could, because I love 
you more now," she added with a sweet, intensely private 
	"It wasn't just you, Dana.  Sharon - I thought I 
loved Sharon.  I did love Sharon," he corrected, and she 
nodded without surprise, smiling.  "I still do.  But not 
like that.  I had known that for a long time, but to feel 
what I did for you - always, but especially so intensely 
that night - it blew me away.  I couldn't understand how 
I'd lived so long without having felt that."
	She squeezed his fingers between hers.  "Funny 
thing - the faith came back," she said quietly.  "I 
thought, once you were gone and my faith was gone, that 
was it.  I had nothing and I would always have nothing.  
But slowly all that healed, as we healed.  I found it in 
myself to forgive God."  She laughed softly.  "Isn't that 
the height of arrogance?  I forgave God?  I look back on 
it now and I see that you were never taken from me at 
all, only given to me - but it didn't feel like that at 
the time."  
	He was nodding, understanding perfectly.  He said 
hesitantly, "It must have hurt you - given all that, I 
mean - that I wanted to wait - that I didn't feel right 
while we were waiting for my annulment."
	She shook her head.  "No, although at the time I 
didn't entirely share your feelings.  It started out 
being for you.  But somewhere along the line the waiting 
became important to me, too," she said softly, kissing 
him gently.  "I don't know if you're right, or if our 
faith is right, Walter.  So many people around us seem to 
have perfectly good marriages, and they were together 
before they were married.  But it makes a certain sense 
to me - to try to wait until we're living out everything 
that making love means - and I trust you, and I trust our 
faith.  And I'd rather go with what I trust."  She was 
	His look was one of compassion.  "I do love you, 
Dana.  I don't know why we've waited so long to do this."  
He didn't mean making love.
	She lifted her hand, still entwined with his, and 
gazed thoughtfully at the flawed sapphire there.  "I 
think we were waiting.  I think somewhere in myself I 
knew about the twins.  I think - I think we had to find 
Emily, and find out about Eden, before we could do this."
	"Maybe."  He looked at her somberly; said in a low 
voice, "Despite everything I believe and everything I try 
to live for, I can't regret that we were weak that night, 
Dana.  Despite everything that's happened - I thank God 
every day for our children."
	"So do I," she said painfully.
	He was suddenly very near tears.  "I want Eden," he 
said huskily.  He swallowed.  "I want Emily."
	She closed her eyes, just once, and leaned into 
him, held him.  "It keeps coming back, doesn't it?" she 
said hoarsely.  "It's always there.  There's no freedom 
from it.  Not even for a moment."
	The tears came then, for both of them, and he 
nodded.  "People say the hurt is always with you - like 
some kind of, I don't know, a melancholy cloud.  They 
don't tell you how insidious it is.  They don't tell you 
about the endless, relentless monologue you get in your 
head about it.  They don't tell you the names and the 
what-ifs and the memories hammer away at your brain *all* 
the time."
	"I know," she whispered painfully.  "I know."
	They stayed there for a long time, but at last, she 
touched his arm, and rose.  She led him to their bedroom, 
sat on the bed, her hands outstretched.  He stood there, 
watching her from his own private hell for a long moment, 
then took them, and joined her.  Whatever hell there was, 
he decided, they would share it.
	They lay there, and he cradled his body around 
hers; but sleep was a long time coming. 

16 October, 1998
Violent Crimes Unit Conference Room #2
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	"The formal part of this section meeting is 
	Section Chief Flanders, who had replaced the ill-
fated Blevins, nodded to the Director, and sat down.  The 
latter stood and made his way to the front, said, "If I 
can have your indulgence for a few moments, Agents, I'd 
like to invite Assistant Director Skinner and his Special 
Aide, Agent Scully to address the meeting."  He motioned 
to the two, who exchanged nervous glances, but did as 
they were bidden.  Skinner sat down, deliberately casual, 
on the edge of the desk at the front of the meeting room, 
Scully standing beside him, closer than professional 
etiquette dictated, so that they both faced the group 
meeting with stage-managed precision.
	Skinner cleared his throat, said evenly, "Before we 
get back to work, I would like to make an announcement.  
It's a personal announcement, but by its nature it has 
its place in this forum."  He caught Scully's eye.  
"You're going to hear a lot of rumours over the next 
seventy-two hours, Agents, which is about how long it 
should take for this particular three-day-wonder to 
subside; and I felt it was important you all heard it 
from me - from us."  He took Scully's hand, unobtrusively 
but visibly, and several agents' jaws went slack a 
moment, before they wisely shut them again.  "Dana Scully 
and I are engaged to be married.  The wedding will be 
next month."  
	The couple faced the meeting, calm and unruffled, 
and allowed that to sink in.  A few eyes widened, and 
there were a few smirks, and one woman started counting 
on her fingers, probably assuming a pregnancy, but no-one 
dared betray any audible reaction.  A minority of staff, 
mainly secretarial, looked genuinely pleased.  Skinner 
continued, "As a matter of respect to you all I felt it 
was important that this news came from us, and not from 
the office grapevine."
	Samantha raised her hand, a planned intervention.  
	Skinner nodded.  "Agent Waters, speak."
	"I'm sure I speak on behalf of us all when I 
congratulate you both," she said sweetly.  The two nodded 
their acknowledgement.  "May I ask if there will be any 
organisational changes as a consequence?"
	The Director spoke.  "Not at all, Agent Waters.  
Agent Scully, AD Skinner, myself and the Director General 
have hammered out an agreement specifying appropriate 
accountability measures."
	Mulder said, "May I ask what they are?"  His tone 
was challenging, even arrogant; but the Director, who had 
orchestrated the question, was unruffled.
	"No, Agent Mulder, you may not," he retorted 
evenly.  "That is a confidential matter for the employees 
involved.  All any of you need to know is that an 
agreement has been reached, in line with the Work and 
Family policy, which ensures this personal development 
will not create any conflicts of interest for anyone 
under AD Skinner's supervision.  Agent Scully remains the 
AD's Special Aide and her privileges and authority in 
this division are unchanged - with the full support, I 
might add, of the executive.  Any subordinate of AD 
Skinner who feels a problem may exist is welcome to raise 
their concerns through the appropriate channels."
	Samantha nudged Mulder theatrically.  "I'm sure 
that won't be necessary, Sir.  Thank you for your time in 
addressing my partner's query," she added with such wide-
eyed sincerity that Scully nearly laughed.
	Scully spoke for the first time.  "My role as the 
Special Aide to the Assistant Director has always been a 
troubleshooting one.  Necessarily, I have had conflict 
with many of you - and equally necessarily, I have acted 
as an advocate to the AD on behalf of many of you.  In 
neither instance will you experience any change in what I 
do or how I do it.  I promise not to growl any louder 
than I already do -" laughs at that "- and I promise to 
speak on your behalf just as loudly as ever."
	Linda Caleca spoke - the only unscripted part of 
the exchange.  "I think congratulations are in order."
	Her husband called out, "Hear, hear!" and began to 
	All joined in, most to be polite, a few in 
solidarity.  Kimberley, who had known of the engagement 
before the meeting, came forward to congratulate the two; 
and a handful of others followed suit.  Both were 
slightly overwhelmed by all the fuss, given their natural 
reserve; but they nodded and smiled and shook hands, 
handling themselves with outward aplomb.  Mercifully, the 
slightly shocked group dispersed after that, talking 
animatedly among themselves.
	At last, it was over, and the two of them made 
their escape.

16 October, 1998
Office Of The Special Aide To The Assistant Director
Federal Bureau Of Investigation
Washington, D.C.

	"Dana?  Do you have a minute?"
	Scully looked up, shot Samantha a smile.  "Always.  
Business or pleasure?"
	"Pleasure.  Literally."
	Scully motioned for her to sit.  "Go on."
	"Dana, I know you're...well, reserved, discussing 
these things.  But - well, you have your wedding night 
coming up, and you're - you're not very - I mean -" she 
stopped, flushing.  "I'm making a mess of this, aren't 
I?" she asked ruefully.  "Let me get my foot out of my 
mouth and start again."
	Scully looked amused.  "What you mean is, I'm less 
experienced than our mothers were at my age, and now I 
have the big night coming up, and that's all going to 
change.  Did I miss anything?"
	Samantha's face was scarlet.  "I shouldn't have 
started this.  This is intimate territory - especially 
for someone like you - someone who puts certain values on 
sex.  I'll go."  She started to rise.
	Scully's voice was gentle.  "What's on your mind, 
Samantha?  Please."
	Reluctantly, the other woman sat again.  "Dana," 
she said hesitantly, "I haven't been with anyone for a 
long time.  Since my husband died," she revealed.  "I'm - 
I'm afraid."  She looked up at Scully, biting her lip.  
"Are you?" she asked hesitantly.
	Scully smiled faintly.  "No.  Walter and I have 
been together for so long.  He's always been so gentle 
with me.  He's never done anything, even in the worst of 
times and the worst of suspicions, that made me feel 
anything other than loved and cherished."  She shook her 
head.  "But if it was someone else...Samantha, emotions 
and ideology aside, physically, sex is something - what I 
mean is, there have only been four times for me - I 
wouldn't like to do that with someone I didn't have that 
history with."
	Samantha was nodding.  "I'm not - inexperienced," 
she said slowly.  "We had our baby before we married, 
just like you," she revealed, "and there had been others 
before that."
	"But it's not as simple as that, is it?" Scully 
asked, trying to imagine moving on without Walter, and 
finding she couldn't.
	"The - **fear** isn't physical for me," Samantha 
said ruefully.  "But it's such an exposing thing for me 
now.  Before I was married - hell, maybe even until my 
husband died - I didn't really understand how important 
it was.  I do now."
	Scully nodded with some understanding, said gently, 
"Mulder would never hurt you, Samantha.  He adores you.  
From the first day, when he called you Samantha and let 
you call him Fox.  You touched him somehow."
	Samantha frowned.  "I wonder about that, Dana.  
Every time he says my name he gets a faraway look, this 
gentle voice.  Even in the beginning.  I feel like the 
gentleness isn't for me, but for his sister."
	"It's for both of you," Dana counselled.  "Try not 
to begrudge whatever feelings for her that he puts on 
you.  The finest and most noble things about Mulder are 
wrapped up in his sister.  Whatever of that he transfers 
to you, try to see as a gift."
	"I'll try."  Samantha looked at Scully with sudden 
mischief.  "Four times?" she probed.
	Scully gave a short laugh, knowing she was being 
manipulated and falling in without protest.  "Four 
times," she confirmed.  "Three with Jack, and the time 
with Walter - the time we made the twins," she said with 
a fleeting bittersweet tone to her voice.  "I regret Jack 
now," she revealed.
	"Religious guilt?" Samantha probed.  "Bad choice of 
words, but-"
	Scully cut her off.  "Not exactly.  Religion comes 
into it, but -" she stopped, then started again.  "I was 
never with Jack again after I came back from the Gulf.  
As you know, Walter was married then - we didn't make 
love - but when I came back, I knew that that sharing - 
that it wasn't for Jack.  Jack was wonderful - he was 
kind and caring and he never pressured me - but whatever 
I felt for him wasn't love - not that sort of love.  It 
wasn't the kind of loving where you give yourself over.  
And really, what else is sex about?" she asked softly.
	Samantha was nodding.  "Is it about religion?" she 
asked quietly.
	Scully thought about this for some moments, before 
replying slowly, "Yes and no.  In the beginning, it was 
absolutely about religion.  You were raised Catholic, 
Samantha; you remember the stuff about sex?"
	Samantha nodded.  "Lip service to sex as good, 
heavy stuff on why you shouldn't do it."
	"In my family it was the other way around.  We were 
told why we should only do it in marriage, but the main 
message was sex as a great good - a gift from God.  It 
was like a spiritual-romantic thing for my mother.  It 
was the mystical thing which took her and made her 
something more than what she had been - part of a new 
family, her own family.  I really think Mom's wedding 
night was a defining point - a seminal point, if you'll 
pardon the crudity -" Samantha grinned broadly "- in her 
life.  And she passed a lot of those attitudes on to me.  
So it was religion, but it was also experience - I'd seen 
it lived out, seen its value, as a belief system."
	"You said in the beginning."
	Scully repeated much of her conversation with 
Skinner the previous night, adding, "I drifted away from 
the Church, but because I'd lived it, I couldn't let go 
of that belief system.  To be with someone else - it 
wasn't something I could do.  And then when Walter and I 
found one another again, it was important to him to wait.  
So besides that one time, we did.  I guess I came to see 
the wisdom of it over time, and now it's important to me 
to obey the Church in these matters - there's a trust, a 
humility in it."
	Samantha nodded slowly.  "What's it like?" she 
asked quietly.  At her look, she went on, "To have a man 
touch you, and love you, without wanting anything from 
	Scully smiled faintly.  "I don't have a lot of 
basis for comparison.  But - I think the touching is a 
lot more giving.  There's more joy taken in each other, 
less in getting the right set of physical responses.  And 
I think there comes a point - certainly that was the case 
when we were together before - where even the sex becomes 
like that.  But you need to make space for that to 
	"It sounds nice," Samantha said wistfully.
	"I think Mulder would cherish you," she said 
quietly.  "Maybe not exactly the way I'm talking about, I 
don't know," she said, "but I think - I think it will be 
	Samantha nodded, thoughtfully.  She was raw, 
exposed; but that nervous, uncertain quality she'd had 
before was gone.  At last, she said softly, "Thank you, 
	She rose to go, but when she reached the door, she 
stopped.  Scully waited.
	"How did you know it was Mulder?  I never said."
	Dana laughed then.  She couldn't help it.  "You 
**are** silly sometimes, Samantha.  Who else?"
	Samantha laughed too, and then she left.

18 October, 1998
Georgetown Rehabilitation Hospital
Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

	"How you feeling, Agent?"
	Tom Colton struggled up into a sitting position.  
"Rather awful, Sir, to be honest.  Each day is a little 
better though."  He watched them with a slight twinkle.  
"Here on the requisite courtesy visit?"
	That was uncomfortably close to the truth; but 
Scully shook her head.  "Not at all," she said gently.  
Her carefully cultured civility with Tom was always a 
little precarious, but she had more dignity than to show 
it, especially now.  "We've been meaning to come for a 
couple of days now, but we've been preoccupied."
	Tom nodded.  "Waters has already told me the good 
news.  Congratulations," he graciously.
	"Thank you, Tom," Scully said, equally graciously, 
as Tom shook Skinner's hand.
	"I suppose the cover operation drew you together?  
I mean living at close quarters - quite understandable," 
Tom said kindly.
	Scully shook her head.  "Oh, no.  We served 
together in the Gulf war.  There's a lot of history 
there."  Skinner was nodding, but said nothing; Scully 
and Tom had their own friendship, of sorts, despite their 
differences.  This discussion was between them.
	Tom looked surprised, but recovered quickly.  "I 
see.  In that case it's long overdue.  Congratulations 
again."  He nodded, then said abruptly, "So have you got 
a replacement on the Chrysanthemum team?"
	Skinner nodded.  "Bob Fuller.  Of course you're 
welcome back on the team when you're back at work, though 
we hope it will all be over by then."
	Tom smiled faintly.  "Thank you, Sir."  With an air 
of sudden memory, he went on, "Oh - before I forget.  I 
was having radio problems that night at Georgie Girl.  
There was some kind of interference - very localised.  It 
was probably nothing-"
	"No, Linda reported the same.  We're looking into 
	"Good to hear.  I did hear a few seconds of 
discussion - two males.  I'm wondering whether the 
stalker has an accomplice."  He shrugged.  "Food for 
thought, anyway."
	Scully and Skinner exchanged frightened looks.  
"Thanks, Tom," Scully said absently.  "Worth looking 
	"This perp isn't going to like you getting 
married," the younger man pointed out.  "I'd watch my 
back - probably less at the wedding than on your 
honeymoon.  Do you know where you're going?"
	"We're buying a house in Silver Spring.  We were 
going to spend it there and then go away at Christmas."
	Tom nodded.  "Good idea.  If you're in the market 
for a good security firm, Knight Harris are excellent.  
They do my apartment building.  Of course if you do 
change your mind about the honeymoon, my sister went to 
Santa Barbara for hers.  She said it was to die for."
	Scully met his gaze.  "That's very helpful, Tom.  
Thank you."
	"Quit saying thank you, Dana.  We go back a ways.  
I only want to help."
	"We appreciate that," Scully told her unexpected 
ally.  "Really."
	Impulsively, she leaned down and kissed his cheek; 
and then they left.