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Offspring *R* 5/5
Deslea R. Judd
drjudd@catholic.org
drjudd@primus.com.au
Copyright 1996
This piece was written in 1996 by the author for personal
entertainment. It is copyright and may not be used or distributed
(except for the purposes of private entertainment) without my
written permission.
Disclaimer
This book is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter
owned by him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen
Productions. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Bill Mulder, Mrs Mulder,
Samantha Mulder and her clones, Maggie Scully, Melissa
Scully, Captain Scully, Sharon Skinner, Kimberly Cooke, the
Cigarette Smoking (Cancer) Man, the Well Manicured Man and
his offsider, Frohike, Quiqueg, Gautier, Jean Gautier, Ellen, and
Alex Krycek remain the intellectual property of those parties. Dr Karen Koettig, Agent
Grbevski, Melissa Samantha Scully, Grace Skinner, Clone 1
(Cynthia), Clone 3 (Carolyn), Clone 4 (Catherine), Dr Sam
Fieldman, Dr Paul Sturrock, Dr Marion Pieterse, Wendy
Tomiris, Serena Ingleburn, Amarette, Dr Jillian Maitz, Hallie,
and Emily Trent are mine and copyright.
Timeframe/Spoilers: To Avatar (Season 3).
Rating: R for low-key sex.
Summary: When Scully and Skinner fall in love, their troubles have only just begun...
Offspring (5/5)
Deslea R. Judd
drjudd@primus.com.au
drjudd@catholic.org
Copyright 1996
Eight
Pathology
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, D.C.
March 29, 1997
"Well?"
Scully looked up from her microscope.
Skinner and Mulder were there. She looked back
down, made some notes in a file, removed the slide, and put it
away. Only when she had finished did she acknowledge the
men. She sat down and beckoned for them to do the same.
"Melissa is basically a normal infant. Her blood and
tissue are not dissimilar to what would be considered normal, her
organs are in their normal places, she responds to stimulii in a
way which is within usual percentiles. Her blood," she added
with a grin at Mulder, "isn't green and it doesn't dissolve
whatever it touches." There was a relief which she was careful
not to express - or even acknowledge. In the back of her mind,
she had feared that Melissa would be like the Samantha clone,
the one who had died all those years ago, and corroded before
her very eyes. If, as Samantha had believed, the sperm which had
been implanted within her was that of a clone, she was
extraordinarily lucky that Walter had made her pregnant before it
could.
Mulder said wearily, "Touche."
Scully's tone became grave. "That having been said,
there were a number of unidentifiable substances in her system.
They have points of similarity to substances such as, variously,
enzymes, hormones, T-cells, and so on. Her secretions are
somewhat unusual, but don't seem to have any malignant
properties. Her immunological responses seem unusual, but we
can't know more about that until they can be studied in depth. At
the very least, it will have to wait until she's weaned; because we
don't know what anomalies might be being passed on from me, in
light of the radiation incident. I must admit, I had some
reservations about feeding in the first place, but I've analysed
samples and they seem fine." She paused. "Her brain scans did
show some anomalies, also, but they don't seem to be related to
disease. They anomalies are focused around the brain stem, and
could be expected to impact on the central nervous system." Her
brow furrowed. "I don't have any answers. She could turn out to
be completely normal in every way that counts. Her biological
abnormalities - anomalies - whatever you want to call them -
could turn out to be completely benign, and or dormant."
Mulder's voice was piercing. "But you don't believe
that."
Scully bowed her head for a moment. "I don't think
anyone would go to such elaborate lengths for something which
was intended to be dormant. That having been said, genetic
engineering is only as precise as the knowledge which informs it.
If the people who did this are ignorant as to the precise
properties of this genetic material themselves, then it - whatever
it is - may indeed be dormant - or even harmful. We just can't
know that, until she grows."
Skinner chose his words carefully. "Can you make any
predictions about Melissa's future, Dana?"
Scully shook her head. "Not really. The fact that she
appears normal cosmetically is tremendously important. It
sounds relatively minor, but it isn't. We can monitor her
privately and raise her in a conventional manner, and if she does
show behaviours or capacities which might cause her problems in
living in society, we can help her, or even hide her if we have to.
That's something we couldn't have done if she had looked
abnormal in some way." She cleared her throat. "The most we
can draw from that, however, is that she can live a fairly normal
life - at least unless she manifests some characteristic in the
future which might preclude it. We can't draw any conclusions
about her nature from that. Some of the most anomalous and
damaged people look completely normal. We don't know what
these people were playing with when they did this. Probably
they didn't, either."
"You mentioned the brain. Any speculations on
psychological impact?" Skinner brainstormed.
"Probably nothing at a conscious level, though we can't
be sure of that, of course. As I said, I think the most affected
area will be the central nervous system." Scully made a face.
"As to what that means, I don't know. The CNS is probably the
least understood of the bodily systems in how it functions.
Sensations, motor skills, cognitive abilities - those are all related
in some way to the central nervous system. Melissa could be
heightened or diminished in those capabilities, or perhaps
exercise them unusually."
"Psychic abilities, telekinesis, ESP, and PSI have all
been linked to the central nervous system," Mulder noted.
"It's a theory." Scully was dubious, but her tone was
mild. "I won't pretend I'm not worried by these findings, but at
this stage all worry is speculative. She is well and seems to fall
within normal percentiles. All we can do is wait."
Skinner looked away. Scully tilted her head to meet his
eye. "Hey. Walter." Her voice was gentle. "It's going to be
okay."
He looked back at her, then Mulder. Finally, he
nodded and gave a weak smile. Scully smiled back.
She only wished she believed it herself.
West Tisbury
Martha's Vineyard, Massachussets
April 3, 1997
Two weeks later, Mulder, Scully, and Skinner sat back,
sipping on their drinks and relaxing with a leisure quite foreign
to any of them.
They were at Mulder's father's home in Massachussets -
his //mother's// home, Mulder reminded himself: his father had
left her the family home in his will, despite the long-ago
breakup; and against her better judgement she had moved there
and rented the Chilmark house out. Yet it was as though his
father lived on here, and the fact of his death was something he
kept stumbling over, as though he had forgotten. But how could
he forget?
They had arrived earlier that morning, showing up
unannounced. Virginia Mulder had shown no surprise; she was
used to her son's surprises. They weren't close on a day-to-day
basis, but there was great love between them - a love born of a
shared hell at his father's hands.
"Mom, this is Walter Skinner," Mulder had said, "and
my partner, Dana Scully, I believe you've met."
Ginny had shaken hands with Skinner, who held
Melissa; but Dana she had embraced warmly. Somewhat taken
aback, Dana had returned the embrace. "I remember you, Dana.
I remember what you did for me at Bill's funeral. I never did
thank you."
Dana blushed. "Mrs Mulder, I-"
"Ginny," Virginia corrected. "Please."
Three days after Bill Mulder had been gunned down,
Mulder, too, had been presumed dead after being caught in a fire
engineered by Cancer Man. He had survived, and he had come to
Scully in a dream, telling her that he lived. Scully had never
acknowledged the dream, even to herself; but on an impulse, she
had gone to Bill's funeral and told Ginny that her son was alive.
Unknown to her, Virginia Mulder, who had lost her son and his
father in the space of a week, had with methodical calmness
decided to suicide. Scully's words had been all that had kept her
alive until Fox had returned.
Now, Ginny invited them in and welcomed them
warmly. Not a particularly domestic personality, she had
nonetheless pampered them, ensconsed them in the sunroom with
food and drink, and cooed with a middle-aged woman's self-
deprecating delight over Melissa.
After a lively morning tea, the two men left to buy lunch
over Ginny's protests that she had enough to feed them all. She
and Dana remained in the sunroom, Dana nursing Missy.
They were silent for a time, but then Ginny said
reflectively, "You know, this morning is the first time I've felt at
home here since I moved back."
"I wondered why-" Ginny looked up, and Dana broke
off suddenly. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't want to pry."
Ginny gave a grim smile. "You wondered why I came
back, when Fox has certainly told you how horrible those years
here with Bill were." Dana nodded cautiously. "He was right;
they were horrible years. But they were also my years with my
children - with Samantha." She looked at Dana and Missy.
"You understand, even though Fox doesn't."
Dana nodded, holding the baby against her breast, not
trusting herself to speak.
Ginny went on. "That was why Bill left me this place,
really. Even in the hatred, Bill and I shared something no-one
else could enter into - the pain of losing her. And when he threw
me out with nothing but Fox, he was wrong - he knew that.
Leaving me this place was him making amends. It was him
giving back what he'd taken from me - my home." She shrugged.
"Bill had to wait until he was dead to admit he was wrong.
That's what he hated about Fox. He saw in Fox the integrity he
didn't have himself. That's why he treated him so badly...because
whenever he looked at my son, he saw his own shame. He could
never tell Fox he was proud of him."
Dana bowed her head a moment. "Ginny, I think
Mulder's father did tell him in the end. He doesn't talk about it
very much, but I know they reached some kind of understanding
the night he died. Mulder seemed to make peace with his father
in some way."
Ginny's voice was reflective. "I hope so." She paused,
and her tone lightened. "Tell me, Dana, why do the two of you
call each other Mulder and Scully?"
Dana smiled, shrugging slightly. "I don't know. He
makes everyone call him Mulder, you know that. I think he felt,
in the beginning, that he had no right to call me Dana if I called
him Mulder. Now, we're on different terms. I would let him call
me Dana, and he might even let me call him Fox, I think; but
somehow, Mulder and Scully seems right."
Ginny seemed to accept this, and they fell once more
into silence. Finally, she asked, "Dana, are you going to tell me
whatever it is the three of you came to tell me?"
She bit her lip. After a long moment, she said quietly,
"I think that should wait until they get back, Ginny. It's not my
place."
"All right."
The men returned, and the four of them had lunch.
Melissa slept in her bouncer. But where morning tea had been
lively and chatty, lunch was strained; all four lost in thought,
their faces lined with anxiety.
They retired in silence to the lounge room. There, it
was Virginia Mulder - who feared what was to come but who,
like her son, wanted the truth - who broke the quiet. She cleared
her throat. "I do realise that this isn't a social call, however
pleasant it's been," she said. "The three of you have something to
tell me, and I would like to know what it is."
Mulder spoke. "Mom-" He broke off, suddenly losing
his nerve.
Scully regarded him for a moment, and finally, she said
what he couldn't bring himself to. "Ginny," she said gently, "it's
about your daughter. It's about Samantha."
Virginia nodded slowly. She had suspected as much.
Mulder looked gratefully at Scully, finding his voice
once more. "I told you once that the woman who claimed to be
her, wasn't."
Ginny nodded. "To be honest, Fox, I thought you told
me that to make it easier after she died. I admit that she didn't
feel right, somehow; but who else could she have been? Why
would she lie?"
Mulder bowed his head. "That's a long story in itself,
Mom, and to be honest it's beside the point. To put it briefly,
she wasn't Samantha, but she needed my help, and she thought
pretending to be her was the only way to get it. She knew so
much about us because she knew Samantha. She died before she
could tell me where the real Samantha was."
The //real// Samantha? Something about his phrasing
gave Virginia some idea of the truth. A suspicion arose in her
mind. Before she could stop herself, she said, "Fox, was she a
clone?"
All three stared at her, Mulder speechless. Scully
spoke. "You knew about the cloning?"
Ginny hesitated for a long moment before she replied.
"I knew there were cloning experiments. Bill was involved in
them. I didn't know they were cloning Samantha, but I knew they
had her. I should have guessed."
Mulder nodded. "Yes, Mom. The woman who came to
us was a clone. There were others, too. But we found her - the
real her."
"How do you know?" Ginny asked suspiciously.
Mulder glanced at Scully for help. Neatly, she bridged
the gap. "There were - certain properties in the blood of the
clones which made them quite recognisable when they bled.
Samantha cut her hand for us. Her blood was quite normal."
Mulder took up the story once more. "Samantha was
held prisoner on a government station in North Dakota. We
found her and we wanted to bring her away, but she wanted to
rescue some other abductees. There-" He stopped suddenly and
hung his head in his hands. Scully opened her mouth to finish,
but Skinner quietened her, taking her hand. This was something
Mulder had to do himself.
He looked up once more, his voice breaking. "There
was an explosion, Mom. I couldn't get her out in time. She led
someone out and went back in just before it blew. Then she
called us, and told us to get out, and she was still in there when
it went up. She- she saved our lives-" He looked down at his
hands, resolutely fighting back tears. This was his failure, and
he would face it, and admit it. He didn't want them to pity him.
Facing his mother once more, he cleared his throat. "I didn't
want to tell you, Mom. I didn't want you to know we'd lost her
all over again. But - you had a right to know-"
Virginia cut him off, taking his hands in hers. There
were tears in her own eyes. "No, Fox, you were right to tell me.
You shouldn't have to carry this alone."
"I did my best, Mom," Mulder said brokenly, finally
giving in to the tears. Scully, beside him, could bear it no longer
and put her arms around him, and he wept against her as though
his heart would break. Skinner rested a hand on his shoulder,
unsure of his ground, but moved with compassion.
Ginny's brow creased as he quietened. She knew Bill
had thrown it in his face when they had lost her - lost the clone,
she corrected herself. She felt for her son. "You did more than
your best, Fox. You found her. And she died saving others. We
may not have had the chance to know her, but we know what
kind of a woman she was. That's something I couldn't have had
without you." She gave him a sorrowful smile. "You did good,
Fox."
There was silence for a long moment, and Mulder
looked gratefully at his friends. He turned back to his mother.
"There's more," he said, the strength returning to his voice.
Virginia nodded. "I thought so."
Skinner took up the story. "Ginny, your daughter was
involved in some experiments in genetic engineering. The
cloning was only one of them. Another experiment involved
using human ova and tampering with it. As far as we can make
out, this was with a view to creating a breed of human capable of
surviving biological warfare - and possibly nuclear warfare as
well."
"A super race?" Ginny asked.
"We don't think so," Scully answered. "Just a survival
race." She paused. "Among the ova used were ova which
originated with your daughter. A number of the other women
kept prisoner were pregnant with your daughter's children. As
far as we know, none of them survived the blast, either."
Virginia put a hand to her mouth. "Dear God, no
wonder she wanted to save them. My poor Samantha. And those
poor babies-"
And then she broke off in sudden realisation. She
glanced over at Missy. "Oh, my God."
Mulder took his mother's hand. "Scully was abducted,
too. We got her out. We didn't realise at the time that she had
had Samantha's ova implanted, too. When she and Skinner got
pregnant, they didn't realise - they didn't know-"
Scully admitted gently, "Melissa isn't mine and Walter's
- not genetically speaking. She's Walter's and Samantha's." She
was silent a moment, her gaze falling on the child she had borne
who wasn't hers. "We thought you should know."
"This is my grandchild?" Ginny asked tremorously.
Scully met her gaze. There were tears in her eyes which
she rebelliously held back. She still hadn't made peace with the
fact that Melissa wasn't hers. Maybe she never would. She
nodded. It was Mulder's turn to put an arm around her, and
Walter smoothed back her hair, almost paternally.
Virginia was silent. Finally, she said quietly, "Thank
you for telling me. It means a lot to know that she lives on,
somehow."
Scully nodded. "My sister died last year, Ginny. I
knew that I would want to know if - well, if it had been her."
"I can understand if the answer is no, but-"
Skinner cut her off. "We're happy for you to be part of
her life, Ginny. Not even so much on Samantha's part as on
Mulder's. He's as much a part of the family as Missy is." Mulder
shot him a stunned glance, touched. Scully smiled at both men
with great warmth. She felt as though, in bringing her family
together, Walter had lifted the cloud of a moment ago.
Melissa woke then, with a lusty cry. Scully moved
automatically to comfort her, but she stopped. She turned to
Ginny. "Do you want-" she broke off.
Ginny broke into a smile. "Yes." She went to the
bouncer and lifted her up. "Thank you, Dana," she said, not
without compassion for the latter's pain.
Scully nodded, blinking back tears. This hurt much
more than she had expected it to. But she knew she had done
what was right. //And, Starbuck,// she heard her beloved Ahab
say, //that's all you can do.//
//God help me, it's all I can do.//
Mulder stared out the window.
Scully and the baby were out there, Skinner following
them at a quicker pace. He caught up to her and greeted her, but
there was no warm embrace. Instead, they walked together,
almost gloomily. Mulder felt rather gloomy himself.
As he watched, they came to a standstill and faced one
another, misery in both their stances. Whatever they were taking
about, it was serious - he was sure of it. It wasn't a fight, but it
wasn't happy, either.
His mother came up behind him. "Fox?"
He turned, surprised. "Mom. I'm sorry - did you want
me?"
Virginia Mulder smiled faintly. "I just wondered where
you were." She looked past him, through the window. "I should
have known."
He looked at her, confused. He waited. Finally, she
went on, "Are you in love with her?"
Mulder didn't speak the denial that sprang
automatically to his lips. He turned back to watch them.
Skinner leaned forward and kissed her, just once. Still dejected,
but their steps lighter, the two of them turned back and began to
stroll slowly back towards the house. "I don't know," he
admitted finally. "Maybe." He paused, reflecting. "But you
know what, Mom? I don't think that it really matters. What
Scully and I have is so much more than anything like that. I don't
grieve over her and Skinner. What they have together is good.
He makes her happy. I don't need to be with her that way to love
her, and to live that out."
Virginia felt for her son. She put a hand on his
shoulder. "Does she love you?" she asked, knowing the answer.
Without hesitation, Mulder nodded. "Yes. She does."
There was so little in life of which Mulder was sure; but he was
sure of that.
"Then maybe you're right. Maybe 'in-love' isn't what
matters here."
He turned to his mother. "You're a wise woman, Mom."
Virginia gave a gentle smile. "And I learned it all from
you."
Mulder was waiting for them on the verandah. Skinner
greeted him, then unobtrusively slipped indoors.
Scully watched him go. When the door clicked shut
behind him, she turned to him and said quietly, "Walter asked me
to marry him."
Mulder had expected this. What he hadn't expected
was his reaction. He wasn't dismayed. He was pleased. He had
spoken a more profound truth to his mother than he had realised.
"And?" he asked, leading her to the bench. They sat down.
To his surprise, she said firmly, "I told him no."
He was stunned. He looked at her searchingly.
"Scully...//Dana."// She met his eye in surprise. He hadn't
called her by her first name since...well, she couldn't remember.
Maybe he never had. "Do you love him?"
Scully nodded slowly. "Yes, I do," she said diffidently.
"Then, why-"
He stopped short. Because he understood.
"Why have you never married?" she countered. "There's
your parents' marriage, which I know wasn't happy - but it's more
than that, isn't it?"
He gave a rueful little smile. "Scully, I'm married
already. I'm married to finding the truth, finding my sister...and
now, finding out why. There's no room for anyone else in that,
except you - you because you're part of it. Even if I could make
it work, it wouldn't be fair. I couldn't do that to anyone I really
loved." He met her gaze with comprehension. "And neither can
you," he said. It wasn't a question.
"And neither can I," she agreed with a touch of sadness.
She smiled faintly. "Walter was right that day that we argued.
One of us would be transferred. I can't expose the X Files to that
kind of danger - not now. Besides, I need some stability in my
life - in myself - before I can even think about taking a step like
that. I can't achieve that while ever the truth about Melissa is out
there. I need to know. I need the truth." She looked down at the
child in her arms with a flicker of pain.
"You've heard the truth, Scully," he said gently.
Scully shook her head. "I've heard half the truth - if
that. If Samantha really knew the whole truth, she'd be alive
right now. She would have known enough to protect herself.
She was a pawn." Mulder bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I
wish I could bring her back to you."
He looked at her, suddenly pained, and nodded.
"Maybe," he mused, "the only one who has all the answers is
Melissa."
Scully gave a watery smile. "Maybe you're right."
West Tisbury
Martha's Vineyard, Massachussets
April 4, 1997
Walter came to her that night.
She was feeding Melissa in the early hours of the
morning when he crept down the stairs. She herself had elected
to sleep on Ginny's couch so that she wouldn't disturb the rest of
the household tending to her. When she heard his footfall on the
stairs, she looked up. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"I was already awake."
He sat down at her side, watching. He leaned forward
and stroked the infant's milky-white cheek, which melded with
the milky-white skin of Dana's breast. It was only with great
restraint that he didn't touch her. He wanted to, but it would
have been...rude, somehow. It was a liberty he had no right to
take.
He looked up at Dana's face as she gently removed
Melissa from her breast and wiped the tiny mouth. "Do you want
me to put her down?" Walter asked.
She nodded wordlessly and gave him the baby. He took
her to the makeshift basket by the window and laid her down.
He stroked the downy head and wrapped her in her blanket. He
watched her for a long moment, then pulled himself away.
When he returned to Dana's side, she had buttoned her
nightgown and she sat curled up on one end of the sofa. They
held one another with their eyes in the dim light for a moment;
then, finally, she said, "You know, it's funny. You and I and
Mulder, too - we all live such crazy lives that the everyday joys,
the things like feeding her and putting her to bed and holding her
and all of that - they just sort of slip by."
"There are other everyday joys, too, Dana," he said
before he could stop himself. "Being together, holding one
another..." Walter stopped. She looked at him, unblinking.
Finally, he said in a low voice, "I love you, Dana."
Dana looked away, suddenly ashamed. "Walter, I'm not
a demonstrative person. I don't say it as often as I should or
show it the way you deserve - that's just not who I am." She
turned back to face him. "But I love you, too. More than you
could ever know."
He leaned forward then, and took her face in his hands.
He touched his lips to hers, felt the softness opening up beneath
them. She put her arms around his neck and, straightening out
her body, drew him close to her. The way he thrust his fingers
into her hair and tenderly teased her scalp sent shivers through
her. His fingertips stroked her face, her neck, as though to
memorise every curve.
They stayed that way for long, delicious moments; but
finally, Walter's fingers found the buttons at her neck. He
looked at her, searching for aquiescence; but she hesitated.
"What's wrong?" he asked, gently.
Dana's brow creased, and she seemed to struggle with
the words. "I - you'll think I'm silly, Walter." He shook his head,
mystified. She went on softly after a moment, "I - I want to be
beautiful for you."
He had a glimmer of understanding then. Touched, and
a little saddened that he even had to say it, he told her with great
tenderness, "You're always beautiful for me, Dana. And you
could never be less so for having had our child." He slid his
hand over her still-rounded stomach and leaned down to kiss it
through the gown. He drew her closer still and touched his lips
to her cheek. "Let me love you, Dana."
She turned her face to meet his lips with hers, parted
them, and surrendered to her own growing passion. After a long,
long moment, she said firmly, "Love me, Walter."
"Always," he murmured.
And then he was unfastening her nightclothes and
sliding the cotton gown off her shoulders, and she was pushing
away his robe; but neither of them noticed, so absorbed were
they in one another. Dana was only faintly aware that suddenly
they were naked, flesh against flesh; somehow the indescribable
emotion in his eyes was much more important. Her ivory skin
was silver in the moonlight of the open windows, and he made
the smallest sound which in some way expressed the incredible
depth of feeling for which he had no words. There was
something there which was greater than grief or fear or joy.
Greater? Or baser? Certainly purer, more fundamental. And he
saw it reflected in her own eyes, dark and fine.
He lowered his head to the indentation at the base of
her neck and kissed it, nuzzled it, bathed it with his tongue. He
moved further down her body, kissing her velvety breasts,
inhaling the scent of her milk and the salty smell of his child on
her. He felt her move to touch him, but he looked up at her.
"No, Dana," he said gently, "let me do this for you. Let me give
to you."
Slowly, she nodded, and settled for running her
fingertips over his head, his neck. She sank back in the cushions
and gave herself up to him, to the smooth, strong hands that
touched her with such longing, the soft lips that searched and
probed, the silky tongue that found the warmth and the softness
at her core. And when she shuddered against him, he came up to
kiss her, her own taste on his lips. She took them eagerly
between hers, drinking in her own scent and her own taste, her
need overtaking even desire.
She felt his hardness pushing tenderly against her. "I
don't want to hurt you," he said gently.
She smiled, saying softly, "You said that the first time
you touched me like this, too."
"So I did." But the question in his eyes remained.
She answered it. "You won't. Karen gave me the all-
clear last Friday." She took his face in her hands. "Walter,
you've never hurt me. I don't believe you will now."
He took courage in her belief, and he pushed himself
into her warm depths. For all her words, Dana hadn't been sure;
but now, she rose to meet him, her body opening up to receive
him and be part of him. And dear God, how right it seemed.
And when he gave her what was his to give, she moaned ever so
softly for him to never let her go.
When it was over, Dana held him, his head against her
breast. She cradled him, suddenly maternal, her instincts coming
to the fore; and amid the depth of love and the intensity of
emotion which had passed between them, she swore never to let
anything come between them again.
Dresner Family Wall
Latvian Orthodox Cemetery
Boston, Massachussets
April 16, 1997
Virginia, Dana, Missy, Walter, and Fox stood before
the small bronze plaque in silence.
It was funny, Fox thought, that right now, that was how
he thought of the five of them. There was no Mom, or Scully, or
Skinner, or God forbid, Sir. Just five scattered people drawn
together by one woman, for better or for worse.
It was stark in its simplicity. Just her name, and her
dates; 22 January 1964-13 March 1997. No mention of Melissa
or the countless dead children she had been mother to; no
mention of Frohike, whose life she had saved; or the clones,
whom she had tried to help. No testimony to the woman she had
been.
There had been no formal memorial service for
Samantha. The Mulders had lost their faith after she had been
taken, all of them; and none made any pretence of religious
commitment, even in death. But Virginia had felt it important to
acknowledge her in the wall that had housed the remains of her
family since their emigration to the U.S.A. so many decades
before. And so here they stood, the five of them (well, four of
them; he himself held Missy in his arms), without benefit of
clergy or service, showing their respect for a woman they were
never allowed to know well enough to love.
By unspoken agreement, each of them placed their
flowers at the foot of the wall and turned away. They walked in
silence to Scully's car.
At last, Ginny spoke. "Thank you for coming, Dana,
Walter. It would have been awful for it to have been just Fox
and I." She paused. "That's what I hate the most, you know. Not
that she was taken, but that she never lived. She never had
friends, or family. The five of us are something, but even we
never knew her. What was done to her - isolating her that way -
was wrong."
Dana took Ginny's hand. "Yes, it was. But she was a
good woman, Ginny. She was noble and brave. We can't know
much, but we know that."
Ginny simply smiled and kissed her cheek. "Thank
you, Dana."
"Are you coming to the baptism?" she asked after a long
pause.
Virginia Mulder nodded. "I wouldn't miss it for the
world."
With that, Scully and Skinner got into her car and
Ginny and Mulder walked on to his; and they parted.
And none of them saw the blonde woman who looked
on.
St Gerard's Catholic Chapel
Annapolis, Maryland
April 19, 1997
Melissa Scully lay motionless in Dana's arms. She was
completely placid and still - except for her eyes.
Dana had noticed this habit of hers a lot. While other
babies squirmed, Melissa would remain quite removed from her
surroundings. However, her glance seemed to dart everywhere,
taking in everything around her. Sometimes it enthralled Dana.
Sometimes it frightened her. The child was just too self-aware.
She had the strangest feeling that Missy was not only seeing; she
was actively looking at and processing that which she saw.
Just the same, she was a joy. Walter visited every day,
and not just to play with her like some kind of novel toy. He
really helped with her, and took pleasure in doing so. His
commitment to her should not have surprised Dana, but it did.
She had truly expected to be alone in raising Missy. This was
not so much an indictment on her opinion of Walter as one on
her own presuppositions. Self-sufficiency was a good thing, but
she was beginning to see that expecting to be alone was not.
Sometimes, Walter stayed with her, and she accepted
those times together as a gift. But though she longed to be with
him, she never sought those times. It would be wrong to seek
him out and then push him away. Walter seemed to understand
that, and he seemed to know when he could hold her, or kiss her,
or make love to her; and he also seemed to know when it would
hurt them both to do so. Dana had never been a believer in
intuition, but she could see that he had something. Maybe it was
just that he knew her so well. Whatever the case, they had
achieved some level of understanding that enabled them to love,
but also to remain true to themselves and their circumstances.
Mulder, too, was a constant companion. Always a
devoted friend, he had come to view Missy as his own child. He
never voiced it that way, he was too sensitive to their feelings for
that; but Scully knew him too well. She didn't mind. She liked
the fact that her daughter would grow up among so many who
loved her. She had been so fortunate in that way herself.
After some deliberation, Scully had told her mother,
Maggie, that Missy was her own child. It transpired that Maggie
had guessed, and she did not demand the explanations for Dana's
secretive behaviour that others might have. Maggie had dreamt
her daughter gave birth at home, surrounded by her friends.
Scully privately dismissed this claim, but not before going
deathly pale. However, she gave her mother's experience the
respect it deserved by accepting it without editorial comment.
Harder to dismiss was Maggie's readiness to go along with the
adoption story without so much as an explanation - Maggie
Scully, who so valued the truth. Scully said as much, but
Maggie replied cryptically that some truths should be sacrificed
to serve others. Scully wondered just how much her mother
knew.
Dana was brought back to the present by the sound of the
congregation. In the front pew sat Maggie Scully, Ginny
Mulder, and a small scattering of friends. The priest had just
asked them to renew their baptismal promises in preparation for
Melissa's own baptism. She looked down at Melissa and her
hold on the baby tightened. She glanced up at Walter, who gave
her a gentle smile.
Presenting Walter as Missy's father had not posed the
problem she had expected. She had few close friends, but those
she had had accepted Walter as the baby's father by virtue of
being involved with Dana. They did not see his role in the
child's life as inconsistent with her so-called adoption. This was
something for which she was grateful. She could imagine
nothing worse for a devoted father such as Walter than being
expected to refrain from any public involvement with the baby.
Her baptism alone would have been agonising for him in such a
circumstance.
Her gaze fell on Mulder. She smiled involuntarily.
Suddenly conscious of her scrutiny, he looked up, then smiled
back. She had thought of asking Karen, or perhaps her other
close friend, Ellen, to be Missy's godmother; but in the end she
had decided to have Mulder alone. The three of them had been
through so much together. And Walter was right. In a way,
Missy did belong to all three of them. This day was theirs.
"Melissa Samantha Scully," the priest began.
Impulsively, Scully gave Melissa to Mulder. He shot her a look
of pleased surprise. Touched, he held the child forward over the
font. The priest poured a small quantity of water over the baby's
head. "I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit." Only Mulder was close enough to hear
him gasp.
He glanced down at Missy. Her blue eyes stared up at
the priest's hand where it was still wet, unblinking. Their
expression was almost angry. Her forehead creased where the
water had hit it. Mulder was amazed at the awareness in her
eyes.
He gave a sudden grin. Missy didn't just know she had
been hit with water; she knew the priest had done it, and she was
not impressed. She was unmistakeably annoyed!
Mulder shot the priest a look and saw the water
bubbling in his too-red palm. Unobtrusively, the man managed
to put his hand back into the font and continue speaking, his
voice slightly strained. Mulder saw a few tendrils of steam rising
from the water where he held it. His smile faded.
He looked back down at Melissa in sudden
comprehension. She wasn't annoyed. She was furious. And she
was getting her revenge. //You're doing that, aren't you?// He
didn't know if he could hear his thoughts, much less if she
understood him. But he suspected maybe she could.
He glanced over at Scully and Skinner. Ever doting,
they were watching Missy. They hadn't noticed the water. Good.
He looked back at Missy once more and stared into her deep eyes
so like his own. //Missy, stop it!// he commanded her silently.
//It's wrong. He means you no harm.//
The water in the font started to swirl. She was making
it worse. The priest pulled his hand from the water with a tiny,
barely audible gasp.
//I said, stop it, Melissa. You can't use your power this
way. You know that. Not only is it wrong, it's also unsafe. Do
you want these people to know what you can do?//
The water continued to swirl lazily. But at least it
wasn't speeding up.
//I mean it, Missy. Stop it right now. I am your uncle
and your godfather and I know how to keep you safe. But you
have to stop.//
Finally, she blinked. He let out his breath, realising for
the first time how much she had frightened him. The water
stilled.
//Good girl.//
But, he wondered nervously, smiling wanly at Scully,
for how long?
Epilogue
Manhattan City Hotel
Manhattan, New York
April 27, 1997
"You were right about using one of the human
Samantha Mulder clones, Sir. They told her everything, and we
got her away safely for her to make her report. The phone call
was a nice touch." He paused. "The real Miss Mulder prepared
her quite thoroughly. They didn't suspect a thing. And in using
that troublesome Clone 4 to alert the man who was with them,
we not only confirmed their belief in Miss Mulder's 'death' but
got her out of the way, too."
An elderly, meticulous, well-manicured man with finely
chiselled features sat, immobile, listening.
"We made some enquiries after the explosion. They
registered the infant as one Hillary Trent, illegitimate child of a
terminally ill street kid named Emily Trent. Conveniently, the
Trent girl's medical expenses have been miraculously paid by an
unknown benefactor and she has now been transferred to a
private hospice. The Trent girl supposedly arranged a private
adoption to a Dana Katherine Scully, who changed the infant's
name to Melissa Samantha Scully. It's her, though. We got
someone in to her and got a blood sample. The genetic mother is
the Mulder woman, and the natural father is Walter Skinner, a
Bureau operative who's involved with Scully. This was not the
direct result of the GIFT project. Scully and Skinner conceived
naturally, but got the mystery prize from the Mulder ovum."
"Very poor work on the part of our Washington man.
We shouldn't have lost Scully in the first place, but even so, all
the candidates were supposed to be screened for existing or
possible involvements to prevent just such an eventuality," the
well-manicured man pointed out, annoyed.
"Sir, to be fair, it does seem that the Scully woman
checked out on that point. She hadn't been involved with anyone
for some time, and she wasn't seeing Skinner at the time that she
was taken. It seems that the abduction itself was the catalyst for
the relationship." The younger, darker man stopped. "That's all,
Sir. Do you want us to get the child?"
The well-manicured man was silent for a moment. He
shook his head. "No. The FBI woman and the child are to be
left alone. And I don't want you to mention any of this to the rest
of the group - especially our Washington man."
The dark man was surprised. "With all due respect, Sir,
may I ask why?"
The well-manicured man said calmly, "We have done
what we set out to do - though admittedly not in quite the way
we had expected. It is indeed possible to create and incubate an
alien-human hybrid which is human in appearance, largely
human in content, and capable of surviving a massive encounter
with radioactivity - the Scully infant shows us that. Time and
prudent observation will tell us if she is capable of resisting
biological warfare. And, as an unexpected bonus, the mothers
seem to be capable of making a full recovery from radiation
exposure, as well - at least for the duration of the pregnancy."
He paused. "Either this accident can be duplicated, or it can't. If
it can, then we will have plenty of subjects for experimentation
in due course. If it can't, then it doesn't matter. And I don't think
there's any value in taking a child from a woman who knows
she's given birth and who, if robbed of the child, will stop at
nothing to get her back - especially not one with resources such
as the Bureau and that blasted Fox Mulder. It's an unnecessary
risk. Besides, this Scully child will give us the information we
need to know the effect that human society will have on the
children of the Project. This way, we need never fear exposure
of the Project from Mulder or Scully, because to do so would be
to expose that child. We've got everything to lose and practically
nothing of use to gain by removing the Scully infant."
The dark man suddenly broke into a grin. "Is that really
why? Sir, I believe there's another reason."
The well-manicured man raised an eyebrow. "Do go
on."
"You //like// them. You like having an adversary to
match wits with. You wouldn't let them endanger the Project,
but you wouldn't kill them, either. I believe Fox Mulder and
Dana Scully make you feel young again."
The well-manicured man regarded his assistant keenly.
Then he laughed.
"I believe you're right."
Sandy Mountain 24-Hour Diner
Unmapped U.S. Government Territory
Nevada
April 29, 1997
Two blonde women sat close together in a diner on the
outskirts of Nevada. The customers in the surrounding booths,
mostly men, were all government operatives. It was a government
town. None of them seemed surprised by the completely
identical pair. If anything, they were surprised that they
numbered only two.
One of the women was named Samantha Mulder. The
other, who if you looked really closely had slightly less brilliant
eyes, but who otherwise was her replica, was a woman without a
name. The files referred to her as Clone 3. Samantha, in a
concession to sentiment, had named her, as she had named them
all. This one, a human, she had named Carolyn.
"What can I get you ladies? Twins, ain't ya?"
Two sets of identical eyes looked up at the man. The
hearty old bastard was so jolly it was disgusting. Samantha
spoke. "Just two cokes, thanks. Yes, we're twins."
Digesting this seemingly self-evident information, the
old man nodded thoughtfully. He came to himself, remembering
the chore at hand. "Two cokes? Won't be long."
The two women waited until he was out of earshot.
"Well?"
It was a demand for information. Carolyn provided it.
"A child was born of the Project. A girl. The mother is your
brother's closest friend - woman named Dana Scully. The father
is Scully's man - seems they had a little rendezvous as soon as
Scully was rescued. Scully and your brother and Scully's man
had found out that you were the genetic mother. They also knew
the baby wasn't completely human."
"How did they know?"
"Genetic testing. Interestingly, and quite by accident,
the Scully woman was caught in a nuclear accident of some kind.
She made a full recovery, as did the baby. Everyone else was
dead within the day."
Samantha sat back in surprise. "Well, I'll be damned. It
actually worked." She looked back at Carolyn. "The woman?"
Carolyn shrugged. "I only met her briefly. Nice lady.
Gave birth the day I saw her. She was all in."
Samantha nodded. "I'll just bet she was." She paused
warily, then asked in a low voice, "And the baby?"
The other was noncomittal. "Hard to know. They said
she looked normal, and her blood was normal, of course, since
the clone sperm didn't make it into the package; but they knew
her DNA had been interfered with. We'll have to wait and see.
Scully called her Melissa."
Samantha's brow creased. "Any reason for the name?"
"She didn't say, but I know Scully had a sister by that
name. There was an attempt on her life last year, by them. That
creepy Krycek guy and his gang, to be precise. The first Melissa
was killed in the crossfire." Carolyn was silent a moment.
"Samantha?"
"Yes?"
She hesitated. "I don't want to offend you, Samantha,
but-" she broke off, before blurting out, "Why do you stay with
these bastards, and the Project? That guy, your brother - he's
really nice. And he hasn't given up on looking for you in over
twenty years."
Samantha laughed cynically. "He's not quite so
committed as all that, Carolyn. He handed over Cynthia, the
alien clone - the one they called Clone 1 - in exchange for Scully
in a hostage crisis. She died." Her eyes became grave. "I loved
Cynthia. She was the first. It wasn't right, him just handing her
over like that. They were going to kill her anyway, you know -
just to stop him from searching for me - but he did it as much as
they did."
Carolyn was unconvinced. "Just the same, Samantha,
he loves you. I wish someone loved me like that. But I'm just a
clone. I don't belong to anyone. Just like Cath-" She stopped
short. She couldn't say it. The wound was too fresh. "Just like
Clone 4. We're nobodies, and nobody's. That why they let her
die in the fire, to make them think you had died. We're
dispensible because somehow we aren't //real."// How very
Carolyn, Samantha thought.
Carolyn was a dreamy, emotive personality. That was
why she had been chosen to play Samantha for Mulder: those
who made the decisions in these matters knew she could be
trusted to fabricate the necessary emotions to be convincing in
the role. Many of the clones, especially the aliens such as the
now-deceased Catherine, could not. What those who made these
decisions didn't realise was that for Carolyn, she and Samantha
were one. And her emotion at seeing "her" brother had been real.
One day, Samantha thought regretfully, that would be Carolyn's
downfall.
At this thought, her look became stricken. She took
Carolyn's hand. "Don't say that, Carolyn. You belong to me. I
love you like that. You and the others are why I stay. Besides -"
"Yes?"
"It's all I know."
Their cokes came, and the conversation ended. But
later that night, Samantha Mulder thought of her brother, and her
child, the one Dana Scully had borne, and she began to think.
And plan.
OK, I know the cliffhanger is a cheap trick. I don't even know if
Samantha will bother to carry out her scheme - she's got a lot
going on, you know. But then, who knows? Let me know what
you thought, and whether you want to see the story go on.
Deslea R. Judd
Sydney, Australia
June 15-August 25, 1996