Sheriff Vernon agreed immediately with Scully that they needed to see if

there was hard evidence to be found which would support an arrest of Mary

Chandler in either the serial killer case or her husbands' deaths. He still

would not believe that she had anything to do with any of it. Mulder was

harder to convince that they must delay taking any immediate action, but

finally agreed, provided someone would keep watch on the house to make sure

that Mary and David didn't disappear meanwhile. He volunteered to hang

around in his car until the Sheriff could send someone out to take over for

him.

Scully shot Mulder a suspicious look and remained with him while Vernon went

into the house. The Sheriff said he would only tell Mary that they were

leaving and that they would contact her later or the next day to fill her in

as to what was going on.

"What are you going to do after we leave, Mulder?" Scully asked.

"Sit in my car, mom," he replied sarcastically.

Her face flushed and she snapped, "Dammit. I don't deserve this attitude

you've got toward me. If what you suspect is true, you could endanger the

case by doing anything stupid right now."

He was thinking that Scully was right, and that he was being an asshole, but

was not about to risk David by hanging back and letting Mary do God knew what

to him. He had opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence but saw

the Sheriff coming out of the front door.

Hastily, Mulder whispered, "The Sheriff and Mary are an item according to

Deputy Sullivan."

Scully looked startled although she had already suspected that the two were

closer than cop and victim, and commented thoughtfully, "It sounds as though

an impartial party should take over this investigation, given all the

conflicts of interest evident here."

Knowing his partner, Mulder knew she would work on doing just that when she

got back to the Sheriff's office. Again, he knew intellectually and

professionally that she was right, but it only made him more anxious to

resolve his son's....God, he couldn't believe he could say those words yet -

he mentally rolled the word "son" around in his mind for a few seconds, then

continued the thought...resolve his son's problem before he didn't have

access to him anymore.

No longer looking laid-back, Sheriff Vernon tersely said, "Let's go," and led

the way to the car. Mulder waited until he and Scully had driven off and

turned the corner at the intersection, then he strode up to the door and

rapped on it urgently.

He heard Mary's footsteps approach the door. She hesitated for a moment,

then the locks were opened and the door swung inward a few inches.

"What do you want?" Her expression was guarded.

"To talk."

There was a long moment of hesitation, then she said, "Look, I realize you'll

come in here anyway if you decide that's what you want, and there's nothing I

could do to stop you. But I don't want David upset."

Mulder didn't say anything, simply waited patiently.

Finally she stepped back and let him past her.

"Where is he?" was the first thing he said. The house was too silent. The

lights were on in all the downstairs rooms but there was no sign of David.

"Playing." She shrugged.

Feeling a flutter of anxiety in his stomach he turned to her and demanded, "I

want to see that he's all right."

With a mixture of fear and defiance, she admitted, "He isn't here."

"What?!" he said, maybe a little too loudly. "Where could he have gone in

those ten minutes we were outside?"

She just licked her lips and backed away from him.

Raw fear for his child exploded in his mind as Mulder lost his composure.

Throwing his forearm across her throat and grabbing her wrists in his other

hand, he shoved her roughly against the nearby wall and pressed his body

against hers. He knew his behavior was bordering on criminal assault - hell,

it *was* criminal assault - but he was beyond being able to stop it.

"I warned you what would happen if you harmed him," he rasped. "Now tell me,

where is he?"

She struggled but he was too close for her to maneuver, and he simply shoved

harder against her throat. Her expression reflected her terror as she began

to fight to breathe. When he saw that she was trying to speak, he relaxed

his forearm to give her some air.

Wincing when she swallowed, Mary said, "Fox, I wouldn't hurt David. I love

him more than my own life. He's only next door with Jason and his new

puppy."

"Show me," he demanded.

"You can look out the back window and see them playing."

He kept hold of one wrist and yanked her along with him as he strode to the

kitchen and peered out the window. David and another boy, presumably Jason,

could be clearly seen in the well-lighted back yard next door laughing and

playing with a small black dog. Currently the young pup was enthusiastically

licking David's face as he lay giggling on his back in the grass.

Mulder took a deep breath in relief and turned to Mary at the same time he

felt the sharp point of a knife press against his ribs. Fuck. He had

underestimated her, knowing what she was capable of. Any idiot would have

realized there would be knives lying around a kitchen. She could just say

that Mulder had broken in and had threatened her with his gun again, and she

had to protect herself. What was one more murder to her?

But she surprised him by backing away, putting the table between them. The

carving knife clattered from her shaking hands to the table-top.

Her voice was strained as she asked, "Now tell me why you seem to be sure

that I'm going to harm David?"

Certain that she was playing some kind of game with him and impatient with

this pretense of ignorance, Mulder wearily replied, "You hired Lobell because

you want to marry Tyler."

It took a moment for Mary to make any sense out of what Mulder had said, then

her face grew pale. "Oh, no. My God, I wouldn't....You've got everything

wrong." She sank into a chair at the table, looking even paler.

At Mulder's unbelieving stare, she forcefully said, "Matt told me that the

man who took David and murdered those other children had been killed, and I

was surprised to find out who it was. Lobell never struck me as anyone who

would escalate into actually killing anyone. He was a pervert who preyed on

kids, and that's bad enough, but I wouldn't have thought he would go to that

extreme."

What about Tyler?"

"What about him? He's been after me to marry him but I keep telling him no.

It's Matt I love, and who would make a great father for David."

"I'm supposed to believe this shit? How many people could have had a

connection to Lobell and also had an interest in getting rid of your son..."

Mulder shook his head when he realized the obvious answer. As Sheriff, Matt

Vernon would have dealt with Lobell when he had been arrested, charged, tried

and released. Also, Matt wanted to wed Mary Chandler, who had to be a

millionaire many times over. But why would he want to get David out of the

way, especially by murdering him?

"How is your money set up? Is David involved?"

"Yes, he is. I can't touch most of it because I had it placed in a trust in

David's name."

"Does Sheriff Vernon know that?"

She nodded with a stricken look, seeing where he was going with this.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face trying to think what to do. If

she had told the truth, the Sheriff may have guided the serial killer in an

attempt to get rid of David for better access to Mary's wealth after

marriage. That still left the string of dead husbands on Mary's head. David

looked to be in serious danger no matter which way things developed.

All he could see to do at the moment was to take custody of David and protect

him until things were resolved to some degree and he was out of danger.

"Mary, my partner and I need to keep David for a while to make sure he's

safe. If you told me the truth, the killer may very well make another

attempt on his life. If you were lying, you shouldn't care what happens to

him anyway."

She sat there with a weary, vulnerable look on her face while he felt a rush

of guilt at seeing the angry mark on her throat he had caused.

"You're not going to leave here without him, are you?" she asked with a

defeated air. "I

remember now how you were when you were on a case; how you would be so

single minded and ruthless once you caught the scent. No sleeping or eating

until you brought him down." With a quirk to the corner of her mouth, she

added, "Fucking, though, you could always fit into your schedule, as I

recall."

Mulder blinked at the comment, but kept his expression noncommittal.

Nonetheless, he felt a warmth infuse his face and knew he was blushing.

"Understand one thing, Agent Mulder," she suddenly said in a firm voice. He

noticed that she had picked up the knife and was gripping it tightly in her

hand. "He's mine. Do you understand? He's my child and not yours even if

you contributed to the conception. If you take him, you had better bring him

back to me or I can make you sorry you were ever born." Her determined gaze

held his eyes for a full minute. Mulder was shocked to realize that the

thought of keeping David had indeed been hovering, unformed, in the back of

his mind.

"Whatever is safest for David," he murmured.

"As determined by whom?" she demanded.

He slammed his fist down onto the counter top. "I don't know, goddammit!

However it plays out." A long look between them and she finally slumped

back into the chair, hatred for him and the position into which he was

forcing her clear to read on her face.

And in response, Mulder's fingers itched to slap her, even strangle her for

what she had taken from him. He was horrified at this reaction, this need to

respond with violence. He found himself saying, "You took him from me. My

own child. And you acted as if I should just shrug my shoulders and walk

away from the whole thing. Forget there's a little boy who looks like me,

who owes half his genetic makeup to me, and who can nearly pull my heart out

of my chest with a look. 'What he doesn't know won't hurt him' has

apparently been your philosophy."

She had turned her head away from his agony, whether from indifference or

from guilt, he didn't know.

He made an effort to control his emotions and at last said, "While I phone my

partner, could you get David to come into the house? Don't go outside,

though. He can hear you from the window."

He removed his cel phone from a coat pocket, punched buttons, and watched

while Mary did as he asked. He heard Scully's voice from the phone's

receiver and said, "Scully, meet me at the motel in about half an hour and

don't tell the anyone that I called, or where you're going. It's urgent."

There was a moment of silence, then she replied, "This had better be good."

He felt a flare of annoyance at her remark which seemed to say, "You're just

a nut-case, Mulder, and I have to humor you since you're my partner." He

disconnected without saying anything more, afraid he would really screw

things up with her. And he knew he was being unreasonable since she was just

reacting to his own brusqueness and penchant for stretching the regulations a

little more than usual lately.

David came in through the back kitchen door and unzipped his jacket in the

warmth of the house. He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he saw

Mulder standing in the room. Once he recognized the agent, he gave him a

sweet smile.

Mulder was struck by how the boy still opened himself up to strangers even

after the frightening time spent with Lobell. There had to have been damage

done to his young mind and soul, but he was apparently healing and keeping

the bad parts shoved deep down. The thought occurred to him that these were

normally signs of a basically secure and loved child, but that would be at

odds with his theory about Mary. Maybe Scully was right about someone else

needing to be handling this case. But David was *his* son and Mulder had to

assure his safety.

He gave David a smile in return and waited for his mother to explain what

would be happening. When David heard that he would need to stay with the

federal agents for a little while, his whole body froze as though he were

afraid to move or breathe. Reasoning with him didn't even make him blink.

Mulder moved over next to Mary and knelt on one knee in front of David.

"David, it would only be for a little while and it's only to keep you safe.

You know that FBI agents are the good guys, right?" Mulder grinned at him,

hoping that the boy would never have to find out that the statement wasn't

completely true.

A quiet voice came from the boy, saying, "Can I see your badge?"

He hadn't expected that. But he solemnly withdrew his ID from an inside

pocket of his suit coat and handed it to the boy.

David's small hands caressed the worn leather of the folder for a few

moments, and then there was a quiet intake of breath when he saw the splendor

of the shield. He studied it briefly, then a forefinger tentatively traced

the ridges of the hard metal as though he could read its mysteries through

touch. Finally satisfied with whatever truths his explorations gave him, he

turned his attention to the ID card below.

He looked from the photo to the solid reality of the man before him, then

back down to the photo. David thoughtfully tapped the signature with his

finger, ran it up the side of the card back to the badge, then closed the ID

case. He held it out towards Mulder with a gravity that seemed to say that

he understood the heavy responsibility this piece of paper and metal placed

on the agent's shoulders.

David looked up at his mother and asked, "Mom, can you go with us?" His

voice held just the slightest quaver.

Mulder caught the swift questioning glance from her and silently shook his

head.

Huskily she answered him, "No, honey, but I'll be right here and we'll talk

on the phone as often as you like." His arms reached for her and she hugged

him tightly for a long few minutes.

Mulder felt like a sick sadist. It was obvious that David loved his mother

with all his heart, with no reservations. And he was separating them, right

after the kid had gone through hell with that murderer Lobell. He

strengthened his resolve by thinking that some of the worst killers he had

captured had families with children who adored their parents. Maybe love

*was* blind. But he still felt shitty about the whole thing.

He accompanied them when they went upstairs to pack the boy's clothes. She

seemed to be cooperating, but Mulder didn't trust anyone very far. Except

for Scully. No matter how irritated they became with each other, the trust

was there.

His duffle bag packed, David looked around for something and finally found

his old brown bear on the floor on the far side of his bed. When he picked

it up and looked at Mulder through his eyelashes, obviously unsure whether it

would label him a "baby" to bring his bear with him, Mulder's heart melted.

Again.

"What's his name?" he asked.

>From behind the bear's head, a muffled "George" reached his ears.

Mary said, "He used to love the "Curious George" books and when he got the

bear, he wanted it to have the same name as the monkey in the books."

"Well, David and George, let's get going." Mulder turned and headed out of

the room, a smile hidden from the boy. He didn't want him to think he was

making fun of him. Hell, he had kept his own bear with him in bed until he

was nearly eleven. Not that there's anything wrong with that, he joked to

himself. He helped with the duffle bag when they reached the stairs and were

soon at the front door. He noticed that the pain in his shoulder was

returning with a vengeance.

"Bye, David," Mary said as she gave him a fierce hug and kiss. David hugged

her back, holding on a little longer than normal. Fighting back tears, he

followed Mulder out to the car, his head down all the way.

Fine, the agent thought. This is good practice for my part-time job when I

retire. Yeah...I could club little white baby seals to death on the ice.

Aloud, he said, "Can I help you with the seat belt?"

David shook his head, busy with the intricacies of the belt while not letting

go of his death grip on George. Finally there was a metallic click and they

were on their way.

Sheriff's office

7:50 PM

Scully looked at her watch and realized she had to leave right away if she

didn't want to be late meeting her partner at the motel. She had gone to the

Sheriff's office and had just finished making her statement on the death of

Lobell to the Portland SAIC, Paul Gregory, who had come in to personally take

over the investigation. With two agents injured and the alleged serial

killer dead, he wanted hands-on involvement from here on out. Scully was

glad, as it solved the conflicts of interest problems without placing her in

the position for Mulder to accuse her of "selling him out."

She had to tell Mulder that Gregory had flatly refused to consider that there

was a "mastermind" involved with the serial killings other than Lobell. What

he said boiled down to the opinion that Mulder's reputation for "spooky"

profiles was overrated, that small children's accounts of traumatic

experiences were often proven false, and that he felt there was no further

threat to the child in question. Period. No further arguments.

He completely ignored her protestations and requests for support in the

further investigation of her partner's theories.

Not bothering to argue with the man any further, she promised that Mulder

would come by first thing in the morning to turn in his statement. Scully

then asked one if the agents who had accompanied Gregory to Willows if she

would drive her over to the motel since Mulder still had their rental.

Special Agent Sarah Goldberg, a tall, willowy brunette with very green eyes,

gladly agreed since she was off duty and was headed to the same place. They

were soon pulling into the motel's parking lot.

Scully saw that Mulder's car was there this time and thanked Agent Goldberg

for the lift.

"Do you think I could meet Agent Mulder? I've heard so much about him."

Oh, great, Scully thought. A Muldergroupie. She stood outside the car with

Agent Goldberg and asked, "Which room are you staying in? We can stop by for

a few minutes later. Right now we have some business to go over on this

case."

"Room 108," she smilingly answered. "See you later, then."

Scully walked to Mulder's door, realizing that Sarah Goldberg's room was

immediately to the left of Mulder's, and hers was on the right. A Federal

Agent sandwich, with Mulder as the tasty filling. God, I must be tired; my

thinking has gone into "stupid" mode.

She rapped her knuckles on the door to Room 110 and called out, "Mulder, it's

me." It took a little longer for him to answer the door than usual and she

was about to knock again when the door was suddenly pulled open. She saw

that Mulder's tie was loosened, his coat was off and his shirt sleeves were

rolled up. Although he looked tired, he had a sparkle about his eyes that

hadn't been there earlier.

"Scully! I'm glad you're here." He moved back into the room and revealed

David sitting on one of the beds holding a large stuffed bear and sipping a

Coke.

"Hi," the child calmly said. But she could tell he was a little nervous as

he put

his drink down on the bedside table and clutched the bear closer to his

chest.

She responded with a "hi" of her own, threw in a big smile, and then turned

to Mulder, her eyes asking him what the hell was going on here?

Mulder, to his credit, didn't try to weasel his way around the issue or make

excuses for what he had done. He simply left her holding the bag.

"Scully, could you keep an eye on him for awhile? I have to run out a

minute," he said as he shrugged into his coat. He winced with the pain in

his shoulder, which didn't get past his partner.

She did something out of character, then. Scully moved to the door and stood

in front of it, looking determined.

"Mulder, stop. Tell me what's going on first, and then I've got some new

developments to tell you about. And why haven't you been taking the pain

pills?"

"Shit, I keep forgetting the damn pills." He rummaged around in his pocket

and came up with a couple of plastic pill bottles. He shook a capsule from

each and looked around for a glass. A tug on his sleeve and he looked down

to see David, offering his partially-consumed Coke for him to drink with the

pills.

"Thanks," Mulder said, accepting the can.

David nodded and returned to the bed, eyes alertly watching the two agents as

he kept a stranglehold on George.

Mulder took the capsules and told David they would be right outside the door

for a minute to talk. He motioned for her to open the door and they stepped

just beyond the threshold before he turned to her and said, "I've found out

that Mary is expecting Sheriff Vernon to ask her to marry him any day. She

said that her money is mostly in David's name through a trust she set up, so

neither she nor Vernon could touch it...unless David were to die."

After digesting this, Scully said, "So the Sheriff could be the one who

guided Lobell to David so he could get rid of him, clearing the way to Mary's

money?"

"Exactly. But I still think that Mary is the guilty party and is using the

Sheriff for covering her tracks. The story about the trust may not even be

true. Anyway, I talked her into letting me take David into protective

custody temporarily."

"What about the husbands you say she has murdered? Could we have two killers

here?"

He was about to reply when they heard, "Why, you must be the famous Fox

Mulder! I'm Agent Sarah Goldberg, from the Bureau's Portland Office."

Goldberg stood expectantly next to Mulder, holding an empty ice bucket. She

had changed to a tee shirt with no bra and black tights, Scully noticed. The

figure she displayed even made Scully's jaw drop, and she was afraid to think

what it was doing to her partner.

It took him all of two seconds to figure out that this woman was gorgeous and

probably not averse to getting to know him a lot better. Make that a *whole*

lot better. He heard Scully clear her throat and say, with an odd tone in

her voice, "Agent Goldberg gave me a lift from the Sheriff's office. She

told me that she wanted to...meet you."

Mulder wisely said, "Ahhh, I was just about to go out. Maybe we could see

you in the morning? Agent Chan is supposed to come by at 8:00 and we're

going to breakfast."

"Sure. It's a date," she said, and sauntered past them on her way to the ice

machine.

Mulder pursed his lips and watched her retreating figure thoughtfully.

Scully's voice broke his reverie, however.

"Where were you going, Mulder?"

"Hmm? Oh, to see the Sheriff."

"You're not going to confront him tonight about all this, are you?" she asked

in concern.

(Continued in Part 6)

DAVID (6/7)

by Gerry Hill

(fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Turning his full attention back to Scully, he said, "Well, yes, I thought

that we needed to see what he has to say for himself."

"Mulder, the SAIC has taken over the Sheriff's office and our case. He wants

you to give him your statement first thing in the morning. He will

absolutely not entertain the notion that there is another person involved

with Lobell in the killings. I have the feeling that he's out to pin you to

the wall, and you should probably stay away from that office until you have

no choice but to report to him." Since she usually let him fend for himself

when it came to dealing with local Bureau heads, he was inclined to take this

rarely offered advice.

He sighed and followed her back into the room. David had turned on the

television and was watching something like a cheetah ripping another animal

to shreds. Ah, the glories of the Discovery Channel. Mulder positioned his

body between the tv and the boy, saying, "It's getting late. What time do

you normally go to bed?"

Innocently looking up at the tall man, David said, "Mom lets me stay up as

long as I want."

Grinning, the agent said, "Good. You can watch some great old movies with

me. They're on all night."

David's eyes grew big with the thought of actually staying up all night long.

Scully had heard enough.

"Bath time!" Ignoring the moans, she went into Mulder's bathroom and turned

on the faucet to fill the tub. When she returned, Scully announced, "Mulder,

I'll leave the bathing duties to you. Then he needs to go to bed...to

SLEEP," she added. "I'm going to my room and take my own bath."

Scully heard some muttering as she walked through the adjoining doors, but

ignored whatever Mulder was complaining about. She heard snatches of "never

draws *my* bath" and smiled at the familiar complaint.

If she could have tapped into Mulder's mind just then she would have found

him thinking of what a good mother Scully could have been and feeling sad

that she would probably never have that kind of life. Not as long as she

associated with him and the X Files.

When she had finished her bath and was ready for bed an hour later, the

silence radiating from their room got her attention. Not even the blare of

the television could be heard. And Mulder *always* had it running late into

the night.

Carefully opening the door, she peeked into the room and couldn't believe

what she saw.

Stretched out on a bed was her partner wearing his old ratty sweats, sound

asleep. Curled up against his chest was little David, also sound asleep,

with a thumb in his mouth, still hanging on to his bear. He was wearing

"Star Wars" pajamas and his hair was slightly damp from the bath. Scully

remembered that her camera was in her luggage, quickly retrieved it, and got

the picture. They didn't move a muscle when the flash went off. She smiled,

replaced the camera in her luggage, and went to bed.

1:45am

The sound of her cel phone ringing gradually pulled Scully up from a deep

slumber. She groggily patted the surface of the bedside table until her hand

came in contact with it. Her "Hello?" was the best she could do until the

fog lifted from her brain.

"Agent Scully. I'm sorry to have awakened you, but I've come across

something that tells me who Lobell's mysterious partner may have been. Could

you and Agent Mulder come over to my office right away?" Sheriff Vernon's

voice was strained and he didn't sound happy.

"Um, I need to get dressed." Scully said, as she swung her legs over the side

of the bed.

"Sorry about this, but I really didn't think it should be left until morning

."

"Have you shared this information with Paul Gregory or his staff?"

"No."

"OK. Be there in twenty minutes or so."

Scully thought for a moment, wary of this whole scenario. It could be a trap

if her suspicions about the Sheriff were correct.

She checked to see if the phone had awakened Mulder or David. By the light

from her lamp shining through the connecting door and by the light of the

full moon she could clearly see the two slumbering people. Mulder was curled

on his side around David, who was curled around George. This must have been

the most sleep her partner had gotten in quite awhile.

Making a decision, she gently closed the door and quickly pulled on her

jeans, sweatshirt, socks and tennis shoes. Before slipping into her jacket

she fastened the FBI-issue holster to its usual spot at her waist and felt

the comforting heaviness of her gun as it settled into its leather cradle.

Scully quietly stepped out of the warm room into the cold night air, walked

down to Agent Goldberg's room and tapped on the door.

It took a minute, but the tousled and sexy agent, gun held at her side,

peered sleepily through a one-inch crack before opening the door fully. She

was just wearing an oversized tee shirt. She rubbed her eyes with a free

hand and asked, "What's going on?"

"Agent Mulder's...occupied, and I need a backup. I can explain on the way."

Mulder halfway awoke when he heard several doors close nearby, then woke up

even more when he heard voices outside near his door. One of them sounded

like Scully. He looked at the glowing digital numbers on the clock by the

bed and saw that it was around 2:00 am, which was a weird time for her to be

up and about.

Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized there was something in

the bed with him. Two seconds later he calmed down when he saw it was his

son. His heart clenched with the emotion that swept over him at the sight of

the sleeping boy. He was intensely aware of the warmth of the small body

next to his and he gently kissed the top of his head. The silky soft hair

was clean and smelled of soap.

Reluctantly, he backed carefully out of bed, hissing at the sudden pain in

his shoulder the movement caused, and went to the window to see what Scully

was up to. He saw her getting into a car with someone who looked like Agent

Goldberg.

"What the hell?" he muttered, as he stepped out onto the freezing cold

concrete walkway. They were already driving off, and he couldn't very well

go running barefoot through the cold night after them, leaving David all

alone.

"Dammit!" He went back inside and called the motel office, asking them to

ring Agent Chan's room number. Mulder had to identify himself and argue for

a minute or two, but finally could hear the phone ringing.

"Yeah?" a very sleep-befuddled voice said.

"Agent Chan. This is Fox Mulder. Could you come over to my room? It's 110.

I have kind of an emergency."

Sounding alert now, Agent Chan replied, "Of course. I'll be there in a few

minutes."

Mulder hung up and searched for his cel phone, finally finding it next to the

remote control for the television. He hit Scully's number and crossed his

fingers that she had it turned on.

"Scully."

"Scully, what the hell is going on? Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, Mulder. Did I wake you? Sheriff Vernon called me. He says that

he has proof on who is behind the serial child murders. Agent Goldberg and I

are meeting him at his office. I knew you couldn't leave David, and thought

you were sleeping."

He was struggling to put his socks and shoes on his feet and tie the laces as

he spoke with her. His shoulder was killing him every time he moved his arms

which made dressing very difficult. Damn, he thought. Those pills I took

aren't doing a hell of a lot of good this time. With his suit pants on and

his unbuttoned shirt hanging open on his chest he said, "I'm on my way.

Agent Chan is going to look after David." He hoped.

There was a tap on the door. "Be there in a few minutes," he said into the

phone, and abruptly disconnected. He couldn't take the chance that Scully

wasn't walking into a trap and he had to get to her and provide backup. If

necessary, he'd bribe Agent Chan to watch David.

As it turned out, that wasn't necessary. Agent Chan loved kids and had three

of his own. Although initially surprised by the unusual request, he happily

settled in to guard the "witness." The only thing he asked was for Agent

Mulder to fill him in a little more thoroughly when he got the time as to

what was going on.

Mulder was in the car and racing out of the parking lot before the

babysitting agent had finished securing the locks on the door.

Sheriff's Office

There was a fine drizzle falling by the time Agent Goldberg parked about a

block away from the office. Both agents held their weapons at the ready, not

knowing what to expect. Scully had filled Goldberg in about Mulder's

theories and it didn't hurt to proceed with caution.

"Shit," Goldberg said in a low voice as they walked toward the office. "This

stuff is changing to sleet. Watch your step."

Scully's eyes swept across the area ahead of them and in the glow of

streetlights could see that everything was taking on a glossy sheen.

They managed to reach the building which housed the Sheriff's office without

falling, although their feet slipped several times on the treacherous

footing.

Scully indicated with her hand that she would enter low with her weapon out,

and Agent Goldberg should follow her, giving her cover. Nothing in her

manner gave away the fact that she had a bad feeling about the whole

situation. Goldberg nodded and moved in behind Scully.

The entry area by the front counter appeared to be deserted in the dim

lighting. The two agents could see a glow coming from the interior of the

building, however, and quickly moved through the door behind the counter.

Scully turned left toward the brightness of the Sheriff's office, but the

attack came from the darkness behind them, where the federal "command center"

had been established.

A high-powered rifle round slammed through Agent Goldberg's torso and clipped

Agent Scully's head on its way to a final location in the far wall. A

significant amount of blood began to pool on the floor where the two women

lay. Footsteps cautiously approached and stopped next to Goldberg, who was

still alive and whose vision was filled with the sight of a khaki pant leg.

The image began to blur as her heart slowed and her breathing stopped, and

finally she was swallowed up in silent blackness.

Fox Mulder was having a hell of a time on the slippery roadway. He nearly

took out several parked cars downtown as he realized just how slick the

surface had gotten in a matter of minutes. He finally stopped fighting the

vehicle and let it slide lopsidedly across two parking spots near the

Sheriff's office. He tried to keep from landing on his rump when he exited

the car by holding desperately onto the door. His shoes wanted to head two

different directions at once, it seemed.

Then his head jerked as he heard the unmistakable report of a rifle shot.

He grabbed his cel phone with one hand while hanging onto the car with the

other and called 911, then dropped the phone, yanked his gun free of its

holster and pushed off toward the front door.

Finding that he could make the slick surfaces work to his advantage, Mulder

pushed himself off from a light pole and slid a good distance before having

to carefully shuffle the rest of the way. He made it to the door and held

his gun ready as he entered the now-silent office.

"Scully!" he called out, sick with worry over the remembered sound of the

rifle shot. At hearing no response, he threw himself into the hallway beyond

the entry area, nearly tripping over something. He saw two bodies sprawled

on the vinyl-covered floor, recognizing Agent Goldberg as the nearest one.

He realized that he was standing in her blood, but ignored that fact. He

was intent on the second body, knowing it had to be Scully. He stifled the

urge to gag at the coppery smell of the blood in the hall, then squatted and

felt for a pulse in Goldberg's neck. Nothing.

He quickly stepped over the dead agent's body and knelt by his partner's

side, aghast at all the blood around her head. When a faint pulse in her

neck throbbed against his hand, a breath he had unconsciously been holding

was freed from his lungs in a rush. Feeling around for the wound, he found a

nasty furrow in her scalp just above the temple area, but it didn't look

fatal. Mulder bowed his head and blinked back tears of relief.

The wailing sound of an ambulance could be heard in the distance, and he sent

them mental messages to hurry up. Considering the icy conditions, he figured

they were doing pretty well, actually. He miraculously found a clean

handkerchief in his pocket and pressed it to Scully's still- bleeding wound.

With his other hand he absently stroked her hair, trying to give comfort

where he could.

The EMTs finally arrived, along with the local police and a sheriff's deputy

named Blaine. Mulder had to go through time-consuming explanations while

anxiously keeping an eye on his partner. Since the Sheriff was not in the

office and couldn't be reached by radio or phone, he assumed that Vernon was

probably involved in all this, but kept his opinions to himself for the time

being.

While they were loading Scully's gurney into the ambulance, Mulder recovered

his cel phone from where he had dropped it by the car and called Paul

Gregory. The SAIC was not happy to be awakened at 3:00 in the morning, and

then to find out one of his agents was dead and another agent seriously

wounded...Gregory demanded that Mulder brief him the minute he arrived at the

Sheriff's office, and for Mulder to get Agent Chan to come to the office as

well. Mulder simply disconnected without replying, his eyes wide with the

growing certainty that the killer was probably going after David next. After

all, the reasons for getting rid of him still existed. But if the Sheriff

were the killer, why would he call two FBI agents to their deaths? To get

rid of the ones who were beginning to figure out what was going on? Maybe

Mary told Vernon what we suspected. She loved him, after all.

His agonized look at the departing ambulance spoke volumes. He wanted to go

with his partner, to make sure she was all right, and to reassure her of his

support. But David, his son, could be in immediate danger...And Scully would

never forgive him if he went with her and something happened to the child.

His decision made, Mulder threw himself into the driver's seat, turned on the

ignition and drove like a madman back to the motel. Luckily the sleet had

stopped falling and the temperature had increased enough so that most of the

ice was gone or he would have never made it. With all he had seen in his

career, it was way too easy to image the horror of a broken little body from

which the life had fled. With this mental image, Mulder's knuckles were

white on the steering wheel. If either Scully or David were to die, Mulder

knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it.

During the drive he somehow managed to ring Agent Chan, telling him not to

answer the phone or door until his arrival, and to keep his weapon ready.

After driving for what seemed to be a week but only lasted five minutes,

Mulder saw the turn for the motel. Wincing at the protesting pain in his

shoulder, he yanked the steering wheel into a turn and slammed to a stop near

his room.

He knew that Gregory had to be brought into this at some point. Mulder

needed help. He would start with Chan and then figure it out as he went

along, hoping not to screw it all up and get everyone killed in the process.

The door to his room opened before he reached it and Agent Chan stepped out,

holding his finger up to his lips.

"He's asleep and I thought we could talk out here."

Mulder, not prone to trusting anyone, pushed past Chan and peered into the

dimly lit room. David's small form was on the nearest bed and his face was

turned toward the door. The child seemed to be sleeping soundly. His bear

had fallen to the floor and he took a moment to return it to David's side.

Mulder turned, looked his thanks at the agent and motioned toward the car.

They sat down in the front seats which faced the only entry to the room

where David lay sleeping. Agent Chan then got the full story from Mulder,

except for the part where David was his son.

"We need to move the boy to a safer place than this motel," Agent Chan

observed.

Surprised that the agent accepted his story so readily, Mulder replied, "I

agree, but where?"

"I could take him down to Portland while you protect your partner. He may

try again if he finds out that she's still alive."

Feeling the wave of indecision again, Mulder really didn't know whether to go

to Scully and leave David to Agent Chan, an unknown factor, or stay with

David and have the agent cover Scully's back, but again, he was an unknown

factor and may or may not be reliable.

Then it all became academic as a sheriff's car pulled into the empty parking

space on their right. It was too dark to see who was in the vehicle.

Oh, God, if it's the Sheriff... Mulder's thoughts were chaotic as he tried to

think what to do to keep him from David. He was suddenly aware of the cold,

heavy feel of his weapon in his hand and didn't even remember drawing it out

of the holster. Carefully exiting the car, he told Chan to keep down and

follow his lead. Whatever the hell *that* might be.

But it wasn't Sheriff Vernon who got out of the official car and walked over

to the agents: It was Deputy Sullivan. Mulder re-holstered his gun and

walked around the car to meet him, feeling relieved that he wouldn't be

confronting the Sheriff just yet. He wanted to work from a safer and

stronger base than this exposed motel.

"Agents Mulder and Chan. I was looking for you at the office. Well, for

that matter, so was everyone else." He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

Ignoring the latter part of his comment, Mulder asked, "What's up?"

Then the world crashed in around him as the deputy shoved a gun into his ribs

and said, "Your hands." As he removed Mulder's weapon he called to Chan to

throw his gun on the ground and to unlock the motel room.

Both agents stood unmoving, not wanting to bring this danger to the sleeping

boy inside.

Angry, Sullivan said, "I would have no compunction whatever in killing you

both and then the child, so do what I say."

Chan carefully took the motel key out of his pocket and turned toward the

door, and Mulder whispered, "No." The agent hesitated, uncertain, but

Sullivan jabbed the barrel of his weapon hard into Mulder's side and said,

"Do it or I pull this trigger."

"He'll kill us anyway; don't help him kill David, too." Mulder's distress

was clear even in the dimly-lit night and Chan took a long moment before

making his choice.

The door lock gave easily and the three big men were soon crowding the small

motel room, looking down at the still-sleeping child. David's dark lashes

lay on his smooth cheeks and his breathing quietly rushed through parted

lips. His innocence practically glowed in the dim room.

"There's the little bastard," Sullivan breathed, looking satisfied. He

glanced up at the two agents and smiled.

Mulder, sick with fear for David, asked, "Why? You can't escape, so why?"

He was desperately trying to think of a way to divert the man from hurting

or taking his son.

"Oh, I'll escape all right. You see, everyone will think that the Sheriff is

the one behind all this, partly thanks to your theories, and mostly thanks to

all the 'evidence' I'm creating."

Mulder just stared at Sullivan, no expression on his face. Scully would have

seen from his dilated eyes and tense muscles that he was emotionally strung

tight and close to physically expressing his rage, but he miraculously

continued to hold himself in check.

"I used Vernon's rifle on Agents Goldberg and Scully, and this .38 is his,

too. But I'll use my own gun when I shoot Vernon in 'self-defense' later."

His tone grew lower as he confided, "I got rid of Mary's lawyer husband, you

know. So I could have her for myself. But then Matt came into the picture,

and she went crazy over him."

His expression grew angrier. He gestured with his gun as he said, "It was

easy to set up David's abduction with Lobell - he had been killing kids for

awhile when I caught on to him. Anyway, once David was gone and I blamed it

on Vernon, the coast would have been clear with Mary. But David escaped, and

then *you* had to screw things up even more." He glared at Mulder and raised

the gun in his hands, aiming it at the agent's head.

Mulder was about to make a last, desperate move by grabbing for the gun when

several things happened at once. The door suddenly burst open, Agent Chan

kicked a chair into Sullivan's legs, and then the shooting started. Mulder

threw himself without hesitation onto the bed, covering David, keeping him

shielded with his body as he pulled the boy to the floor. Then he tried to

reach his ankle weapon while remaining a shield to the child.

It was obvious that David was frightened to death. Mulder could hear faint

bird-like sounds from beneath his body and the pressure of small hands

pushing at his chest. Christ, the poor kid was going to be in therapy for

the next forty years at this rate.

The shattering sound of the shots in the enclosed room had left their ears

ringing. Mulder, ankle gun finally in hand, looked back over his shoulder to

see what had happened.

Sheriff Vernon stood near the door with several law-enforcement men at his

side, all holding weapons. Mulder noticed that there was blood on the side

of the Sheriff's throat. Nearer to Mulder, Sullivan lay very dead, flat on

his back, body torn with numerous bullet wounds. As for Chan, he was leaning

against the wall to his left, holding a hand to one bloody shoulder, damaged

by a bullet he had caught before getting out of the line of fire. His face

was pale and he was obviously in pain, but Chan astonished Mulder by winking

at him and giving him a smile. Then he slid to the floor and closed his

eyes, waiting for medical attention.

David abruptly broke free of Mulder's protection and raced directly toward

the Sheriff across the bed He frantically was calling, "Sheriff Matt!

Sheriff Matt" as he clumsily ran over the soft, bouncy surface. He threw

himself into the big man's arms without hesitation, hungry for safety and

comfort. And Mulder's heart broke.

It hit him then with the force of a baseball bat slamming into his midsection

that David wasn't really his and that he would never know the kind of

relationship with him that Matt Vernon and Mary had.

(Concluded in Part 7)

"DAVID" (7/7)

by Gerry Hill

(fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Mulder got to his feet and sat heavily on the bed, letting the activity flow

around him for a time. He was aware that David had been sent back to Mary

with one of the officers, that photographs had been taken of the crime scene,

that Agent Chan had been whisked off to the hospital in the ambulance, and

that now the SAIC was sitting on the other bed, knee to knee with him.

Paul Gregory was not a happy man. The case had been solved but not in a way

the bureau liked to see. The methods had been sloppy, with a loss of life

that was regrettable, and he felt that the man sitting across from him was

largely responsible for this.

"Let me get this straight; you pegged the mother for being behind the

killings, but you say that your partner was more suspicious of Sheriff

Vernon. You were both wrong and Agent Goldberg was killed, Agents Chan and

Scully wounded, and Sullivan nearly murdered the little boy who had been a

previous victim and who was in your unauthorized custody. Oh, and lest we

forget, the Sheriff, some of his men, and you yourself nearly died at the

hands of his deputy when Sullivan went on this killing spree because he felt

you were interfering."

Mulder refused to fight back and continued looking at his hands, which lay in

his lap. His lack of response was beginning to wear on the SAIC.

"I've left a message with your supervisor, AD Walter Skinner. I'm

recommending that you be suspended without pay indefinitely for

insubordination, conduct unbecoming an agent of the FBI, and possible

criminal charges. An investigation will be conducted."

That finally got his attention. He looked up at Gregory with a peculiar

expression, saying, "An investigation?" He was thinking that a close

scrutiny would probably turn up David's parentage.

"Sir," he earnestly continued, "I took the child into protective custody with

his mother's

permission. Events support my fears that the killer would go after him

again. Granted, my partner and I hadn't yet figured out that Deputy Sullivan

was behind all this, but we were getting closer through the investigative

process, just as in any case. If you're still upset that we didn't report

every detail to you as we went along, well...that isn't the way we work. If

we did that, none of our cases would ever get solved. And our solve rate is

the best at the Bureau."

Gregory wanted to break this maverick agent and show him how he should be

conducting himself as a special agent, but only said, "I won't get into an

argument with you, Agent Mulder. I'll be talking with AD Skinner shortly and

we'll see. Give me a full report ASAP if you want that considered in our

decision."

Mulder nodded and Gregory went outside to talk with the forensics people.

Sighing, Mulder followed him outside to talk with Sheriff Vernon. He learned

that Vernon had discovered records of Deputy Sullivan's frequent phone calls

to Lobell, and had tried to confront him about it while waiting for the

agents to show up at his office. That led to the Deputy bolting and Vernon

trying to locate him. It had dawned on the Sheriff that the Deputy would

probably go after David, and that's how he showed up in the nick of time.

Mulder wearily told the Sheriff he would stop by in the morning before

leaving for Portland, then drove over to the hospital to see Scully and check

on Agent Chan's condition. His shoulder was a constant throbbing ache, now.

He told himself that he really should take the time to get some pills down

before much longer. A search through his pockets turned up nothing, however.

It was dawn, and it was going to be a beautiful day from the looks of the

cloudless sky. He parked in the nearly empty lot and walked through the

sliding glass doors to the reception desk. He bumped his shoulder against a

hurrying orderly on the way and had to stop and recover before moving on.

The flare of pain was intense for just that moment, then it faded.

But the alert Doctor Daisy had noticed. She had been making her rounds and

caught Mulder's reaction to the collision.

"Agent Mulder! You aren't taking the pain pills, are you?" Her scolding

tone held a note of concern.

Mulder looked down to his side and had to smile at the serious expression on

that lovely face framed by those blond curls.

"I'm fine," he answered, realizing his ironic use of Scully's words as they

fell from his mouth.

"Obviously you are not fine," she sternly replied. "Come with me."

"I need to see my partner," Mulder protested. "She was wounded earlier. Do

you know where I can find Agent Scully? And Agent Chan?"

Doctor Daisy, seeing that he was determined, said, "I'll take you to see them

myself if you'll just let me give you something to deaden the pain in that

shoulder first. And I want to take a peek at the bandage."

He gave in, although still anxious to find Scully.

Before he knew it, Doctor Daisy had him undressed from the waist up and was

removing the somewhat bedraggled bandage. Her stern look when she had the

wounds uncovered prompted him to ask, "What!?" defensively.

"Somehow you've managed to get this infected, even with the antibiotics you

were given. I need to apply more medicine to the wounds and inject you with

a stronger dose."

He groaned. To hurry the process along, he impatiently said, "Ok, Ok, just

give it to me now."

He looked up at this point to see Scully standing in the doorway, eyebrows in

the stratosphere, watching the nubile Doctor Daisy helping him pull his pants

down.

He noticed that his partner wore a jaunty bandage on the upper side of her

head, probably over a shaved patch of scalp. The bruise from Lobell's boot

was still prominent on her jaw, giving her an abused appearance. Her eyes

were slightly dilated, but whether that was from her wound, the drugs, or

Mulder being undressed by this young lady, he didn't care to speculate.

"Hi, I was on my way to see you," he informed his partner, while Doctor Daisy

didn't even blink, but kept pursuing her goal.

Scully nodded and dryly commented, "I see."

Having relieved him of his trousers, the doctor put an arm around his waist

and turned him toward the examining table. "Bend over and pull your boxers

down a bit."

She took a very large hypodermic from the nearby tray, stuck the needle into

a bottle of yellow liquid, sucked it up into the syringe, and announced

cheerfully, "Are you ready?"

At the sight of the needle, Mulder's stomach knotted up, but he bravely

turned, bared some prime real estate, and closed his eyes. He supposed that

Scully was getting an eyeful and...ouch! Damn, that hurt.

Scully had, indeed, been getting an eyeful and fought to keep her expression

forbidding. Poor Mulder hated hospitals and needles, but most of the time he

brought it on himself. And it wasn't sympathy for him she felt as she

watched his nearly naked body bent over the table. She mentally slapped

herself and reminded her wayward hormones that he was off-limits. It was

only recently that she had noticed this tendency of hers to be very aware of

her partner in the physical sense. Besides, he was so immersed in this

latest emotionally draining case that any personal feelings on either of

their parts were unthinkable.

And she wasn't about to tell him that Doctor Daisy hadn't needed to inject

him in the butt at all. By the time Mulder turned, boxers hiked back up, she

had smothered the smile and again looked composed.

The doctor turned to Scully and said, "I need to clean the wounds and

re-dress them. I'll be just a few more minutes and then he's all yours."

There was a wry humor in her expression that clearly said 'I know he belongs

to you, but I want to enjoy him a little longer.' Scully knew she was

probably thinking no such thing, but that's what it looked like. So she

smiled at the doctor and quietly closed the door on them.

When Mulder burst out of the room about ten minutes later, she could see that

he was looking for her with a desperate air. A relieved grin graced his face

when he spotted her sitting on a chair near the far wall. His walk was a

little stiff-looking, she noticed, and when he sat down in the chair next to

her, it was done very gingerly.

He took her hand in his and leaned over the gap between chairs. His eyes

searched hers as he asked, "How are you doing, Scully?" His concern was

coming off him in waves. Although Scully was used to the routine violation

of her personal space by her partner, she was a little taken aback by the

concern radiating from him now. And she suspected that a lot of his concern

originated from his guilt in not being there for her until now.

"I'm OK; all patched up. But where were you, Mulder?" She couldn't keep all

the hurt from her voice, although she tried.

Still holding her hand, he said, "Ah, just the usual, Scully. Getting shot

at, catching the bad guy..."

At her questioning look, he told her the whole story, noting her astonishment

when he got to Sullivan's part in the unfolding tale.

"So we were both wrong on who was behind the serial murders!" She was

astonished by his revelation, not having given the deputy a thought in

relation to the case. And for Mulder to miss the mark so widely was

unthinkable.

Mulder hung his head. "You were right, though, Scully, about my wanting to

blame Mary, to punish her for what she did to me. That attitude blinded me

to any other possibilities. Now that it's over, I can stand back and see

what an ass I was, accusing her of every crime possible." He looked back up

into Scully's eyes and added, "Sullivan said he killed Tony Parker, her

husband here in Willows."

She saw instantly what that might mean to Mulder. If Mary hadn't killed her

third husband, the previous two deaths may have been accidents. Scully knew

that he didn't want to believe that Mary could have murdered anyone,

especially if David had to remain in her care.

"Gregory is suspending me and initiating an investigation into my conduct on

this case," he abruptly said in a dead voice. "He's pissed off at me for not

working closer and coordinating with him. I need to get a report prepared so

he can use it when he talks with Skinner." He stared deeply into her eyes

and added, "But I can't let him discover my connection to David."

She wondered suddenly, with all the things that kept happening in his life,

how he managed to stay relatively sane. She knew he wasn't nearly as worried

about the threatened suspension and investigation as much as having to

ultimately leave David, his son, when he returned to his so-called normal

existence.

"OK, then let's go get it done. We'll talk with Skinner ourselves, too,

before turning it over to Gregory. It'll be all right, Mulder." She stood

up and pulled on his wrist until he reluctantly got to his feet as well.

As they started for the exit door, Mulder suddenly stopped in his tracks and

Scully ran into him with an "ooof!"

"Sorry. I forgot to go see Agent Chan and find out how he's coming along.

He was shot during the melee at the motel."

At the front admissions counter, however, they discovered that Chan had just

gone into surgery for the removal of the bullet that was lodged in his upper

chest. Scully managed to find a doctor who knew about the case and they were

relieved to be told that everything was expected to go OK for the wounded

agent, since the bullet hadn't hit anything vital. They decided to try and

check on Chan in the morning before returning to Washington, D.C.

Scully drove them back to the motel in silence and found that crime scene

tape was still in place at Mulder's room. After what had happened, they both

expected that the Willows Court management would kick them out; however, they

were pleasantly surprised to find a polite office staff who expressed concern

over the agents' well-being and presented Mulder with a key to a replacement

room on the far side of Scully's.

As Mulder fumbled with the key, trying to open the door to his new residence,

it dawned on her that he was probably still in a kind of shock from recent

events. His normally graceful movements were slow and clumsy and he seemed

lost in thought even when she spoke to him. So Scully followed him into the

room and told him to get started on a hot bath, keeping his bandaged shoulder

dry, and she would retrieve some of his clothes from the old room, crime

scene or not.

She knew he was out of it when he didn't make any comment on her proposal to

break a law and obediently began undressing. Seeing him begin to take his

clothes off as though he were alone in the room, she hastily departed; it was

unnerving when he did that. It apparently had never occurred to him to be

embarrassed when changing clothes or undressing in front of her. She found

that offensive because it meant that he didn't think of her as a sexual being

and, therefore, it was just like undressing in front of another guy to him.

Maybe I should change my name to 'Dan' she was grumbling to herself while

rummaging in his suitcase. Finally she gave up on selecting something and

decided to take the whole thing. She put everything back as neatly as

possible, zipped the bag shut, and staggered out the door with it. She set

it down for a moment, returned to grab Mulder's prescription bottles from the

table, and then replaced the crime tape as best as she could. Wrestling the

large case down the walk and into Mulder's new room managed to add one more

bruise to her leg, so she was cursing under her breath when she finally

dropped the bag with a thud to the standard motel-brown carpet.

He wandered out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, just in time

to see her kick the side of his luggage. With an injured expression for this

mistreatment of his luggage, he easily tossed the bag up onto one of the beds

out of reach of her fury.

She guiltily told him, "I'm going to take a shower and change while you get

dressed. When I come back with the laptop and case files, we can work on

putting the report together." She beat a hasty retreat as she saw him reach

for the corner of the towel and therefore missed seeing the smirk on his face

in her rush to leave. He loved to tease her, but most of the time she didn't

even realize he was deliberately doing it.

Three hours later

The detailed report had been faxed to Skinner. It made no mention of

Mulder's connection with David. Scully reached Skinner by phone about twenty

minutes after he received the fax and answered all his questions. After

hanging up, they both breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that their boss

would put the SAIC in his place when he called. Of course Skinner had taken

several strips out of his two agents' hides first, for not trying to work

with the man. He told them that the worst they would probably see would be a

letter from Gregory that would go into their files.

Scully had neatly put the laptop, files and paperwork away, then turned

toward the beds. Her partner had stretched out full length on the farthest

one from the door, his arms crossed over his face. Either the beds were

short or he was too tall, because his feet came close to hanging off the end.

She smiled.

"Come on, Mulder. Let's get some lunch."

His muffled and unenthusiastic, "I'm not hungry; you go ahead," had been

expected, but Scully wouldn't take that for a final answer.

"You have to eat something. Come on; I have to get some film developed,

too."

She retrieved his prescription containers from the top of the television and

threw them into a purse with her pills so they could both take them with

their food.

Grumbling good-naturedly, Mulder let her drive. First she left her film at a

one-hour place for development . "The role of film must almost a year's

worth of pictures on it. I never find the time to either take pictures or to

get them developed," she told an amused Mulder.

"So after all this time, you require one-hour service? You're suddenly in

such a big hurry?"

She just gave him an enigmatic smile and drove to the other side of town to a

restaurant that Matt had recommended. They had a delicious lunch of broiled

salmon with dill sauce, some locally-grown squash, and small red potatoes.

Mulder surprised himself by eating everything and then wistfully eyed

Scully's remaining portion. But her killer look stopped him in his tracks

before his hand could even twitch.

He was glad that Scully seemed to have forgiven him to some degree, even if

he didn't deserve it. Times like this when they could sit and relax together

were so infrequent these days.

"When is our flight, Scully?"

"Not until tomorrow morning at 11:30."

"Now, why can't we get that kind of extra time in a place like New Orleans or

San Francisco?" he whined.

"What?! Willows isn't exciting enough for you, Mulder?"

He gave an exaggerated sigh and started fidgeting.

Scully knew the signs, and figured what would be coming next. She called for

the check and they emerged into the late afternoon sun and brisk air. The

pictures were ready, surprisingly, but Scully absolutely refused to let

Mulder see them.

"I don't even know what's on them myself, and it might be embarrassing," she

protested as she tucked them into the jacket pocket on the opposite side from

where he was sitting in the car.

Here it comes, she thought, when they returned to the room.

Without looking at her, he softly said, "I need to go see David."

Expecting to have heard this sooner, she wasn't surprised. What *did*

surprise her was that he would bother to tell her first and not just

disappear as usual, with no explanation.

"OK."

Still not looking at her, Mulder held his hand out for the keys to the car.

She gave them to him but let her hand linger in his for a moment. He looked

up at her suddenly and Scully felt a stab in her heart at his expression. So

much pain to be clearly read there. And then he was gone.

Mulder hadn't called Mary first to see if they were at home, the hospital, or

still with the local authorities. He figured that if they weren't home, he

would wait until they showed up. The need to see David again was a tangible

craving seeming to originate somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. He knew

he would have to let go of his son, but that was equivalent to anticipating

death. He knew it was inevitable, but felt a deep dread of what came after.

When he reached their house he sat in the car for a few minutes with his mind

on hold. He supposed he was building up the courage to go in. What he would

really need, however, would be the courage to leave.

He finally walked up to the door and rang the bell, but noticed that his hand

trembled when he pushed the button. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm

down before making a fool of himself.

The door swung open and Mary stood there, an unreadable expression on her

face. She looked like a school girl with her plaid skirt and heather-colored

sweater. David was nowhere to be seen.

After a slight hesitation that didn't get past Mulder, she moved aside to let

him enter.

The first words he said as he turned to her were, "I'm so sorry, Mary. I

accused you of some pretty awful things, not to mention physically hurting

you as well. Can you ever forgive me?"

Her gaze lifted to his eyes and he saw that she was frightened. Oh, God,

she's afraid of me, he thought.

"You aren't going to tell him...?"

Mulder immediately grasped her concern and quickly shook his head to reassure

her. "No. I thought about it, but no."

She could see that it had not been an easy decision for him to make.

They heard the back door slam and David came running in, his face flushed,

eyes sparkling, throwing off his coat and gloves as he went. Seeing Mulder

caused him to brake suddenly and apprehension showed on his face.

The tall agent was quick to reassure him, saying, "I just came to say goodby,

David. I'm sorry we didn't have time to get better acquainted."

The child's posture relaxed when he saw that no one had guns or seemed to be

about to throw him on the floor again. He didn't hesitate to shake the large

hand offered by the FBI man. Even though his latest experiences with Agent

Mulder were a little traumatic, he instinctively felt that the man meant him

no harm.

He was curious, though, why Agent Mulder had tears in his eyes. It was

always sad to say goodby, but the man was a grown-up.

"David, do you think I could get a hug?" The tall man had squatted down on

his heels and still looked as though he would cry. David's basic loving

nature drew him to offer comfort, hoping that Agent Mulder would feel better

if he did as he asked.

Mary was amazed when David unhesitatingly moved into Mulder's arms, and

hugged as hard as he could.

Mulder buried his face in David's shoulder, unable to keep a sob from

escaping. It was clear that he could hold the small body in an embrace

forever, but loosened his hold when he felt David pull back slightly.

The boy looked into the sad, tear-filled eyes of the agent and said, "Don't

cry. We'll see you again." Then he turned and continued on his way to

retrieve a toy from his room.

Seeing that Mulder couldn't speak at the moment, Mary told him, "I don't

think you should see him anymore, but I promise to tell you if we move and

about the big events in his life - his graduation, marriage... I owe you

that much."

He nodded, gave her a light kiss on the cheek, and quickly left the house.

He knew that a large part of his heart was left behind, as well.

By the time he reached the motel again, his emotions were somewhat in

control. He unlocked the door and entered, unsure whether he wanted to find

Scully still in his room or not.

Apparently because it had been getting darker outside, she had turned on the

lamps and closed the curtains. The connecting doors to their rooms were

standing open and he could hear what sounded like humming. She passed the

doorway, saw him, and detoured into his room.

"Thought I would get comfortable," she commented when she saw him staring at

the too-big sweat shirt and pants. To Mulder, she looked so delicate in that

seemingly frozen few seconds that he wondered if he had imagined all the

strength that lay beneath the surface.

That strength suddenly became a magnet to him. As fragile as he was feeling,

he shouldn't have been surprised when his emotions overwhelmed him and he

burst into tears, hugging Scully to him as if she were a life preserver. She

represented normalcy and reason, things he needed desperately at the moment.

Scully, as ever, understood, and moved with him to the bed. Sitting down,

she continued to cradle his head to her shoulder, feeling his body shake with

his grief. It took awhile, but he finally grew exhausted from the emotional

storm that had ravaged his body. She let him gently slide down to lie on top

of the quilt, helped him lift his legs up onto the bed, and removed his

shoes.

"Get some sleep. I'll be right here, Mulder."

Scully thought at first that he might refuse to sleep, aware that he had a

masochistic streak and would normally hug his pain close, jealous of sharing

it with anyone. That was why she hadn't expected the tears. Maybe he was

opening up a little bit more to her each time he hit a brick wall like this.

He was finally realizing that she wasn't going to fail him or make fun of

him or throw his own failures back in his face. The trust was deeper, she

realized, as he drifted off to sleep in about a minute.

When he awoke several hours later, he could see Scully in the dim light

sitting at the table, watching him with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Hey," he said.

She hiccuped and hid a giggle behind the palm of one hand.

Intrigued, he sat up and said accusingly, "Are you drunk, Scully?"

"I think...I think I took the wrong pain medication. I grabbed yours from my

purse by accident when I remembered that we hadn't taken our pills at lunch."

Her eyes weren't too focused, he noticed, and her words were slurred.

Slightly alarmed, he asked, "Do you need an ambulance? Was it an overdose?"

She shook her head no, got unsteadily to her feet, and made her way over to

him.

He saw her toes catch in a raised section of the carpet, and then Scully was

suddenly in his lap. Mulder felt her warm breath on his throat and her arms

slowly wrapped around his neck. She began to nuzzle behind his ear and an

electric stab of desire shot through him instantly, to concentrate in his

groin. Oh, God, this wasn't right. The drugs were messing with her mind and

she couldn't realize what she was doing.

When he tried to tell her they had to stop, he found his mouth covered by

hers in a forceful kiss. He nearly lost it then, wanting desperately to bury

himself in the sweet oblivion she offered, but found the strength to push her

away. He would never forget the hurt, devastated look on her face when she

half fell, half climbed off his lap. Mulder knew that she hadn't started out

to shatter the invisible barriers they had mutually built up over the years,

but when presented with the opportunity, she had had the courage to leap into

the fire.

"Not like this, Scully," he whispered. "Don't you see that it would just be

a way to escape reality for a short time?"

"So what's wrong with that?" Her soft, still unfocused eyes bore deeply into

his, openly showing him without words that she would gladly, willingly

relieve him of his anguish and sorrow, if only for a little while.

"Other than it would probably ruin our friendship and career, nothing," he

replied.

He could see some clarity returning to Scully's eyes and she nodded. "Will

you be OK?" she asked, with some embarrassment.

"Aren't I always?"

And she knew it was true. His wonderful heart took a lot of damage but

seemed to emerge as strong as ever once it had a chance to heal. Her

fogged-up brain could grasp that much.

As she turned to leave he called, "Scully? Thank you."

Nodding, she said, "Tap on the connecting door if you need

me...anything...during the night."

"Only if you'll do the same." He was still concerned about the excess drugs

in her system.

When he got ready for bed, he found the picture on the table that Scully had

meant to give him. It showed David in his arms, both of them asleep. He

held the picture in a hand that shook, and he wondered whether feeling such

intense joy and intense sorrow at the same time would kill him.

THE END