TITLE: I Have Known A Boy Named Fox, and A Man Named Mulder
AUTHOR: Penny Daza
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere, knock yourself out. Just keep my name on
it. :-)
SPOILER WARNING: Various mentions from season 1 to 5.
RATING: R for language and adult situations
CLASSIFICATION: S, A
SUMMARY: Mulder becomes Fox. It's a journey that he and Scully could not have ever prepared for.
DISCLAIMER: All characters are property of his royal highness, Chris Carter
and the Fox Network. And to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson who gave Mulder and Scully their hearts and souls.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Eric, otherwise known as Fetch for being the best dang EMT there is.

Some of you may recognize the title as the sequel to my short piece entitled "Sleeptalking". This work is in no way related to that short two-parter, but a few days after I released it, got myself mulling over the title and this is what I ended up churning out.


Week 1
3, 4, 5.
-------------
Monday


She watched as the little boy played with the toys she'd bought at Toys 'R Us.

His little hands worked frantically, putting together the Lego blocks, and his brows were knitted together in rapt concentration.

Scully had dressed him in little denim shorts, a red and orange striped tee shirt, and little Nike rubber shoes after a relatively uneventful bath coming from the store. He'd blown bubbles in the tub, but was surprisingly well behaved, choosing to pretend the bath sponge was a dinosaur and Scully's hands were cavemen deserving to be chased and eaten.

She had thought he'd put up a fuss when she told him it was time to get out, but he had looked at his fingers and held them up and said, "Yup. I'm already wrinkly."

For now, the little boy was much too engrossed with building a city with the blocks in front of him to notice Scully's silent observation. In a while, he would get hungry, and no doubt ask for pizza or burgers, to which she would of course relent.

He had woken up bright and early at 6 AM, rolled over to her side of the bed and nudged her arm with his chin. When she had slowly opened her eyes and given him a warm smile and "Good morning," he grinned and said "Good morning, too, Dana," and asked for pancakes.

Before she could even swing her legs to the side of the bed, he scampered over her and pinned her down and tried to tickle her and she had tickled him back, and playfully bit into his chubby arms to which he squealed in absolute delight.

He surrendered and put his hands over his head and whispered, "I surrender" and when she relented, he puckered up his lips and made her kiss him soundly on the lips, trapping her face between his tiny hands to give him several more.

"Come on then, you rascal!" she laughed, hauling him out of bed and into her arms. "Let's go see what we can do about those pancakes."

He played with her hair while she walked them to the kitchen, then tucked his face into the crook of her neck and put up a token fight when she put him down.

He drowned his pancakes in syrup, made a mess of his face, and stole her strawberries when she stood up to fetch him a tissue.

Scully gave him a stern look as he shuffled his feet and twisted his hands behind him, not being able to quite meet her eyes.

She shook her head, deciding he was contrite enough and squatted to his level, taking him in her arms. "What am I going to do with you, Fox Mulder?"


----------------------
4 Days Earlier


Mulder was having the quintessential bad day. He'd woken up with a pounding headache, which was in no way relieved after having swallowed half a bottle of aspirin. To make matters worse, his paranoia was acting up something fierce again, the feeling that someone was watching him in his own apartment growing stronger with every breath he took.

He'd pulled his weapon out, checked the rooms, vents and closets and found no one and nothing out of the ordinary, but he still couldn't shake the feeling.

Driving to the Bureau, he kept checking his rear-view mirror, and took several unnecessary turns to shake off any phantom tails. A feat, considering every turn seemed to make his stomach do flip-flops.

Scully had given him a look when he walked in 20 minutes late, but turned from pissed to concerned after seeing the pallor of his face.

"Mulder? You okay?" she asked, standing up and walking over to him.

He sat down, buried his head in his hands and looked up at her. "Ever get the feeling you're being watched, Scully?"

She sat on the edge of his desk and peered at him. "Only since I started working with you, Mulder," she quipped. Her humor faltered however, when his pupils caught her medical eye's attention. A skilled hand reached out to check them. "But paranoia wouldn't dilate your pupils that much, Mulder. What's wrong?"

He groaned and let her continue examine him. "I don't know, but I woke up with a pounding headache today. And yes, I already took some aspirin - half a bottle - didn't do any good."

Scully felt his forehead. "You're not running a fever. How did you sleep last night?"

"Same old same old," he replied.

Standing up, she walked over to one of their file cabinets and pulled out a small flashlight. "Any nausea, Mulder? Dizzy spells, black-outs?"

"Yeah, dizzy on my .. way … " he stopped cold and swayed, and suddenly collapsed to the floor.

Scully jumped, barely making it in time to catch him before his head hit the ground. Frantically, she reached for the phone and dialed 911.

"This is Special Agent Dana Scully. I need an ambulance RIGHT NOW at the J. Edgar Hoover Building!"



The ride to the hospital seemed to last an eternity. Mulder had been loaded into the ambulance, Scully running along side the stretcher, making sure the EMTs did everything they were supposed to and more.

Once they got there, it took Skinner about 10 minutes to follow, but 45 minutes to find out what the hell was going on. He was finally led into a waiting room, and informed that Agent Scully was waiting for him, and would be called to alert her of his presence.

Five minutes later, Scully walked in, and judging from the pained and worried expression on her face, Skinner knew the news would not be good.

"What happened to Agent Mulder?" he asked her.

Scully crossed her arms over her chest. "He keeled over and blacked out at the office, sir. After complaining about some dizziness and paranoia. The doctors haven't found any physical injuries, but the blood work is on the way."

Skinner nodded. "Do you think it has anything to do with the case you're working on?"

"I highly doubt it, sir. It's just some grunt work the VCS is asking Mulder and myself to help out with."

Skinner was just about to offer her a cup of coffee when a nurse burst into the waiting room, her hands waving frantically in the air. "Dr. Scully!! You must come immediately!!"

The sheer panic in her voice sent Skinner and Scully running down the corridor where the nurse lead the way, and into Mulder's room.

He was writhing in bed, but still unconscious, his entire body wet with perspiration but he looked different, somehow. She and Skinner did a quick double take.

Mulder looked younger. A LOT younger.

Three doctors stood helplessly on the sidelines, watching instead the phenomenon unfolding before them. Scully yelled at them, "What the HELL is happening to him?!"

A doctor moved forward to calm her, but she would have none of it. Forcefully, she pushed him aside and rushed to Mulder's bedside. Her hands cupped his face, and to her amazement, the wrinkles around his eyes vanished, his skin softened, and dear god.. she felt the bones beneath her fingers constrict and dwindle in size.

"Oh god, Mulder!" With horrified eyes, Scully cast her gaze down and saw Mulder's torso following suit. His chest shrunk, his arms shortened, and body hair disappeared altogether.

In 7 minutes and 34 seconds, a three-year-old little boy opened his eyes and sat up. "Mom?"

The room went silent.

"This," Skinner managed to choke out. "Must be the mother of all X-Files."




Scully and Skinner were speaking in hushed tones. Mulder, and that's who he really was, said the blood tests, was asleep in bed after a crying fit full of wails and screams that exhausted him.

Scully, after recovering from the intense shock, sat in bed beside him and gathered him close, rubbing his back gently till the fit subsided. Mulder had bucked and resisted forcefully, wailing for his mother, and it took every ounce of strength and endurance on Scully's part to quiet him down.

The suit he'd been wearing was stripped off, his instantly shrinking anatomy practically swimming in it. One of the nurses had been kind enough to run off to a nearby mall to purchase briefs, shorts and a tee shirt for him on her coffee break.

"I'm trying my best to come to terms with what I just saw," muttered Skinner.

Scully could only manage a nod of agreement.

Mulder's blood tests had come shortly after he fell asleep, and Scully had quickly reviewed them.

"High levels of dehydroepiandrosterone, superoxide dismutase and aminoguanidine."

"I won't even try to pronounce that again, Agent Scully. Do you know what they are?"

"Controversial anti-aging chemicals, sir. But all three have more or less been declared by the medical field to be bogus and incapable of halting aging, much less reverse it altogether at such an amazing speed."

"More or less? So there's room for doubt." asked Skinner.

Scully perused the files again. "Another substance was found in his blood stream." She licked her lips and frowned. "Of course, it's unidentifiable."

Skinner sighed in exasperation. "If whatever's in his bloodstream is responsible for… THIS," he said. "What prevented it from going any further?"

"I have no idea, sir. "

They heard a stir as Mulder woke up. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, confused at the unfamiliar surroundings. "Where's my mom?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Scully sat beside him and brushed away the tear that had just dropped down his cheek. "Fox? I want you to calm down and listen to me, okay? My name is Dana, and I'm here to take care of you."

"Where's mom?" he asked again, this time with his lower lip quivering.

"Shhh. It's okay, Fox. Your mom and dad, they went away for awhile and asked me to take care of you."

"Where are they and how come I'm in the hospital?"

Scully thought fast. "They're at Quonochontaug. They couldn't take you with them because you were too sick to travel. That's why you're here."

"I'm sick again?" he asked.

"No," Scully assured him. "You're fine now. No more fever. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess. You're my new babysitter?"

The question startled Scully. What had she gotten herself into?

"Yes, she is," gruffly replied Skinner. He walked over to Mulder and ruffled his hair. "My name's Walter Skinner, F-F-Fox," he stammered. "Dana will be taking care of you for awhile, just till your parents are back from their business at Quonochontaug, okay?"

For a minute there, it looked like Fox would start crying all over again, and Scully and Skinner waited with bated breath for his reaction.

He stuck a thumb into his mouth and lay back down, closing his eyes and yawning around the digit.

Scully and Skinner sighed with relief.



Scully made arrangements with a private medical facility that she forwarded Mulder's blood tests to. She would send them a blood sample every other day, and they would fax her back the results. The pattern was agreed on after a rather lengthy discussion with Fox who apparently, was not afraid of needles or blood, but appeared to detest sitting still for more than 1 minute.

He was quiet in the car going to her apartment, clutching at a little teddy bear that Scully had brought over for him, and his nose was pressed against the window for most of the ride.

She was certain he wanted to ask questions but was still a little shy, by the way his eyes darted from his window to hers to the back of the car. It seemed as though everything that surrounded him was awesome to his young eyes.


Back to Present Day
--------------
Tuesday



For one reason or another, Margaret Scully treated Mulder like her own grandchild.

When Scully had called her up and told her "Mom, I need your help. Mulder's become a child again," Margaret responded by saying "All men are childish, darling."

Then Scully said, "No mom, Mulder's become a kid. He's three years old again."

"Your father could become a two-year old at the drop of a pin, honey."

"Mom! Something happened to Mulder physically and he's now a child of three years old. He's become an X-File!"

So Margaret rushed right over to see it with her own two eyes. When she knocked on her daughter's door, the authenticity of what Dana had said began to sink in. She could hear a distinctive child's voice, and her daughter responding with a murmur followed by "Fox."

When she entered the apartment, she saw a little boy dressed in blue jeans and a forest-green shirt scamper behind Dana's legs, clutching at her pants when Margaret walked in.

"Fox, this is my mother, Margaret. Say hi," she encouraged.

Fox peered from his hiding place to look up at Margaret. "'Ello."

Margaret's eyes lit up when she saw him. She held her hand out and smiled at him warmly, gently pulling him from behind Dana's legs.

"Hello, Fox. I'm glad to meet you."

Margaret, the epitome of a good mother, came prepared. She remembered Dana mentioning that Fox was an avid sports fan, and after a short rummage through her purse, produced a brand-new baseball to the awestruck youngster.

Fox looked at Dana a moment, then at Margaret, then back to Dana. She smiled and nudged him forward, letting him know he could take it.

He took a few hesitant steps forward and held his hand out, and Margaret squatted to his level and asked for a kiss in return. He smacked her soundly on the lips, the art of humoring adults with his pecks already mastered because of Dana. For good measure, he threw his arms around her neck and hugged her tight too.

"Oof!," Margaret said dramatically. "What a strong boy you are! Those arms are really for pitching this ball around, huh?"

He nodded vigorously and took it, scampering off before Scully could even yell, "Not in the house, Fox!!"

Coming to a full stop he turned, gave her a look that could melt stone and shuffled his feet.

Scully sighed. She knew it was a losing battle. "Pitch it into the bed but be careful, deal?"

He grinned and nodded then went off to her bedroom, where mother and daughter heard little 'whumps'.

"He looks just like Fox," wondered Margaret.

"He IS Mulder, mom."

"I know, honey… but it's still so hard to take in all at once. Even if I see the remarkable resemblance - it's amazing, really. To see Fox like this." She glanced at her daughter and added, "You haven't been calling him Mulder, have you dear?"

A small laugh escaped from her lips. "Of course not, mom. But I know what you mean. It was worse for me, imagine when I had to come to terms with Mulder sleeping beside me in my bed and Mulder needing me to help him with his bath."

"He's adorable, isn't he?"

Scully smiled. "Yes. Nothing like the holy terror I know from work."

"How have both of you been holding up?"

"We're doing fine, so far. He looked for his mother and father but didn't cry when I told him they were on vacation and left him to me."

Margaret looked at her daughter.

"I guess he was used to being left alone," Dana sadly observed. "Mom, I need to get him some new things, he outgrows his clothes in two days' time. Could you watch over him for about an hour, or would you rather come along and all three of us go together? "

Fox came skipping out of the bedroom, clutching his prized new-toy in his tiny hands and jumped into Dana's lap. "It's cool!" he declared, holding the ball up to her face.

Margaret looked at the boy. Already, she was madly in love with him. "I'm in the mood for spoiling someone," she grinned. She extended her hand to Fox, who took it unhesitatingly. "And when I say spoiling someone, I mean YOU, sweety!" she laughed.



Scully, Margaret and Fox headed for the mall. While Dana busied herself buying him a few new clothes - shirts, pants, shorts, underwear, sneakers -, Margaret and Fox headed for the toy department.

Keeping in mind that he was growing an average of 3 years per week, she was having a hard time deciding what to get him. A toy that he wouldn't lose interest in for at least 2 weeks, she was hoping. The baseball she'd given him was a good idea, but after that, nothing else came to mind.

She thought of buying him a board game, but surmised he would grow tired of it after several days. Trivial Pursuit, perhaps? He wouldn't be able to play it for several more weeks. A baseball bat to go with the ball? Hmm.. and a glove.

Margaret neared the aisle, with Fox obediently following her, his eyes darting all over the place. A loud noise from the corner of the store caught her attention. She took Fox's hand to go investigate, and saw a group of boys from ages 5 to 17, huddled around a large TV screen. Two of the boys had game pads in their hands, their shoulders wildly tossing in the air as they fought with each other via the computer images being generated on the monitor.

Other little monitors were beside it, and on them games for the younger group were being displayed. Margaret walked over to the clerk. "Excuse me, what is that contraption those boys are playing with?" she asked.

The clerk brought out a unit from the shelf beneath him. "It's a Sony Playstation, ma'am. It plays video games."

Margaret looked at the thing, then at Fox. "Have you got any games for his age? Something he won't tire of in two weeks because he's agi - … something for his older brothers?"

Batches of boxes were produced. "These are all the games available for this. You'll find a good variety for all age groups. Kids in pre-school to college boys and even working professionals come here all the time to buy games."

She looked them over and passed a box to Fox. He stared at it inquisitively, then shook it. "What's inside?" he asked.

The clerk answered. "It's a CD-ROM. That's what goes into the Playstation."

"Okay," Margaret smiled. "We'll take a unit, and give me five of your most popular games."


When Dana saw her mother 45 minutes later with a huge plastic bag, and Fox busily licking at a three-story high ice cream cone, the word 'spoiling' seemed to be a gross understatement.

Margaret smiled sheepishly at her daughter. "We got a little carried away."

Dana smirked and ruffled Fox's hair. "What'd you get?"

"Sumpin' cawwed a Pwaystation," he murmured, his mouth too full of ice cream to answer understandably. "And gramma bought me lotsa games too."

"Gramma?" asked Scully.

"Well I couldn't let him call me Margaret, could I dear? And he has a hard time saying Scully," she answered defensively.

Scully gave her mother a look. Margaret looked away. Fox looked up at the two of them and tugged on Scully's sleeve, excited about his new toy. "Can we go home?"



Margaret was no help whatsoever setting up the Playstation. Scully just managed to understand the operating instructions, and in the nick of time too. Fox had finished his plate of spaghetti and was getting restless.

He plopped himself in front of the TV and let Scully load a game in, then show him more or less how to use the controls. Like all children, he quickly adapted to the computer game and immersed himself in it, oblivious to the rest of the world momentarily.

Margaret and Dana started on dinner, the perfect time for Margaret to give Dana a few do's and don'ts about child rearing. DO always say, "I love you". DON'T make him feel like a burden. DO be tactile. DON'T tell him to stop being a baby. DO give in to the occasional spoil. And DON'T call him Mulder.

For dinner, they ate grilled pork chops and stuffed baked apples. Afterwards, Margaret and Dana shared Fox (half of him lay across Dana, the other half lay across Margaret) as they watched TV together, but he favored laying his cheek across Dana's tummy and playing with her fingers till his bedtime.

Dana give him a piggy back ride to kiss gramma goodnight, and Margaret pinched his cheeks softly as she pecked him back. They walked Margaret to the door and said their goodnights, Fox yawning widely as he rubbed the side of his face on Dana's shoulder, enjoying the softness of her sweater's material.

After closing the door behind her, Scully made her way into the bedroom and plopped him down on the bed.

Fox clapped his hands. "Superman!!"

"Superman?" Dana asked, wondering what he was up to.

"It's superman time, Dana," he answered.

"Okay, what's superman time?"

Fox sat up and scrambled to his knees, patting the space beside him. "You lie down over here and raise your feet."

Dana did as instructed, lifting her legs up and letting Fox adjust them to that her knees were bent. "Now what?"

"Now I get on top of ya - "



"And I put your feet under my tummy, and you push up and make me fly!"

Dana did as instructed, raising her legs and lowering them as she reached for his outstretched arms to balance him as she watched his face light up in glee. She lowered and raised her legs several times till she was red in the face from the exertion, and Fox was breathless from laughing so hard.

She rolled him to the bed and blew on his tummy, raising his shirt as he tried to push her away. His palms frantically searched for something to anchor onto to gain some leverage, with little success. When it seemed he was bound to lose, he managed to out-maneuver her, pushing his forehead against hers and tickled her back.

Dana feigned having the tables turned in his favor and surrendered. Panting heavily, she and Fox made the sign for peace - index and middle finger up - at the same time, a code they had worked out when neither could catch their breaths anymore.

"Weren't you," Dana panted. "Weren't you sleepy five minutes ago, young man?"

Fox panted back. "Uhuh. But… but it was Superman time… and… and… and then you started tickling me!"

She gave him a kiss on the forehead, on the left cheek, on the right cheek then on the chin. "So you aren't sleepy anymore?"

"I'm more tired than sleepy," he answered, then helpfully suggested, "but I bet I'd get sleepy if you read to me. While I'm in the tub. And after."

<HE'S negotiator. a alreadythought Scully.

So Dana Scully and Fox Mulder headed for her bathroom. She closed the lid on the toilet and sat down, gathering him between her legs and assisted him with taking of his T-shirt. His arms shot up into the air as Scully lifted it off, momentarily covering his face. When she tossed it into the hamper, his lips were puckered up, fully expecting a kiss. She obliged of course, loving for the nth time what a tactile little boy he was, and helped him take off the rest of his clothes.

She plunked him into the far end of the tub, learning along the way he enjoyed watching it fill up and regulated the water till it suited him.

Once the bubble bath was foamy, Scully sat on the toilet again and started reading to him, as Fox leaned back into the tub. He stared at her, positively mesmerized, occasionally raising a hand covered with bubbles.

She was just about to get to the good part, where James realized he had landed in New York, when Fox interrupted her.

"Water's getting kinda cold, Dana. And I'm wrinkly already."

She stood up and set the book aside. "Okay, then. Stand up so we can rinse you off and drain the tub."

He pulled the stopper out from the drain himself and stood under the spray from the shower nozzle, letting Scully help him get rid of any residue. She wrapped him up in a big fluffy towel and deposited him on the bed as she went to get his jammies.

"Anything in particular you want to wear tonight, hon?" she asked.

Fox rubbed his hair with the towel. For some reason when Dana did it, it dried a lot faster. "Um. Who's in there?"

Scully examined the drawer. "Bart's in here, so is Ernie and Superman."

He rolled over and reached for his baby powder. "Ernie, please."

She walked back to the bed, jammies and briefs in hand and watched as he carefully poured some powder into his hand and rub it all over himself. Scully smiled. "Hey, good job."

"Thanks!" he replied, and stood on the bed.


-------------------
Wednesday


Skinner came for a visit to check on Scully and Mulder.



He knocked on the door to her apartment, hearing a child squealing with glee and a laugh full of mirth from behind. Thumping sounds, as though a chase were on, and finally a "Who is it?"

"It's me, Agent Scully."

The door opened, and there stood Scully, the widest smile he had ever seen on her face, hair a mess and hyperventilating.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

Scully sidestepped and let Skinner move past her, then shut the door. "No sir. Just a healthy game of hide and seek."

Skinner looked around. He saw Fox hiding from behind the couch, both hands braced over the edge of the backrest, just his forehead and eyes peeking out. He smiled at Fox and gave him a little salute.

"Fox, time out!" Dana called. "Remember Mr. Skinner from the hospital? Say hi."

Fox stepped out and shyly approached him. "Hello."

"Hello, Fox. Who's winning the game?"

"Me," he answered with conviction. He walked over to Dana and tugged on her hand, silently asking to be carried.

She bent down and hoisted him up, then deposited him in front of the TV and turned his Playstation on. She would have to remember to bring her mother out to a nice restaurant for the blessed gift that served so many purposes. "What do you feel like playing, Fox?" she asked him.

"Hermie the Hopperhead, please."

She loaded the CD-ROM in and turned up the volume, then handed him a control pad and kissed his cheek. "Mr. Skinner and I are going to talk for awhile. Think you can give us a few minutes?"

He nodded obediently.

Scully walked back to the dining area where Skinner had already taken a seat.

"Anything enlightening happen, Scully?" he asked.

She wanted to scream. "He seems to remember bits and pieces of Mulder's past… he's asked for his mother, and father. He knows were he lives, what his favorite food and color is, and the usual cacophony of a normal 3 or 4 year-olds existence."

"So he hasn't asked about Samantha?"

"No. He did ask me where his favorite red shirt was, and why he didn't have to go to school. He's got Mulder's memories, of course. He IS Mulder after all. But the memories come back to him to coincide with his progress into aging. He'll be remembering Samantha anytime now."

"And he won't remember you till he's 31."

She nodded grimly.

"How fast is he aging?"

"Yesterday I asked him how old he was, and he was still 3. This morning he was four."

"And Friday he was also three, so he ages one year every three days?"

Scully nodded. "So far, that seems to be the trend."

Skinner watched as Fox's shoulders swung violently in the air as he played with his video game. "Has he been giving you any trouble?" he asked.

She shook her head and smiled, eyes closing momentarily as the last few days were remembered. "No, he's actually pretty well behaved. I think his parents were strict with him behaviorally, but it doesn't stop him from being incredibly driven to drive me crazy with his manipulative and sneaky tactics."

"Now you can relate to what I go through," Skinner grinned.

She laughed heartily, fully understanding what he meant.

He watched her observe him for awhile, then let his eyes wander over the apartment. Various toys and books were scattered around. Tiny blue sneakers with their laces undone near the sofa, a small denim jacket over the backrest of one of the chairs, an overturned red truck near the TV.

"Are you sure you can handle this, Agent Scully?" asked Skinner seriously, lowering his voice a decibel so that Fox wouldn't hear. "I'm sure we can find someone or someplace…equipped to handle this kind of situation."

Scully raised her eyebrow a notch.

Skinner flushed. "I know. That's like saying I can find a needle in a haystack with a blindfold on." He rubbed the back of his neck tightly. "What about his mother?"

"Unreachable. Her housekeeper says she left two weeks ago for Europe, but didn't leave a number where she could be contacted, or when she was coming back."

"Three years a week. So he'll be the old Mulder before all this happened in about 11 weeks?"

"Most likely. Hopefully. With fingers crossed."

"I think you can take a leave of absence in that time, Agent Scully. Unofficially, of course. I'm sure no one would question you're investigating an X-File. This appears to be an X-Files archetype, if I'm not mistaken."

Scully chewed on her lower lip. "That it is, sir. That it is."

The AD inhaled deeply, and uncomfortably adjusted his jacket. "Well then. If you need anything Agent Scully, please don't hesitate to call. Have you got everything you need?"

She looked at Fox propped in front of the TV. Mulder with a TV then, Mulder with a TV now. "Yes, sir. I think we'll be fine."

"All right then. I'll leave you two and give you a call later in the week." Skinner called to Fox. "See you around, sport."

Fox looked behind him and waved. "See ya!"

After Skinner left, Scully set about making supper for both of them. Fox said he wanted fried chicken and fried rice. As she heated the cooking oil, she was able to observe him unnoticed.

At four, he was cherubic with his good looks. The dark, soft hair and full lower lip were already there, and it was just a matter of time when his angular jaw would break through the layers of baby fat.

And damn it all to hell, but Scully was absolutely positive that "Who, me?" look of Mulder was contrived and mastered at this age.

She plunked in the batter-covered chicken into the frying pan and winced as the blood oozed out, and wondered if maybe she could change his eating habits while she had the chance. Her fridge was now stocked with soda pop and milk, Scully having discovered that because of his new metabolism, sugar was essential in keeping him brisk.

After dinner, she would be giving him his bath, then they would watch some more TV or he would ask to be read to. Already they were developing a pattern that she treasured. It was during these twilight hours when it was only her and Fox in the whole world. A time to bond, relish the soft baby-smell of him, answer his inquisitive questions, cuddle him and love him, and let him love her.

There were times that she would lie in bed with him for hours, just watching him sleep. He would subconsciously cuddle closer to her, and liked laying his arm or leg across her, or clutch on her sleeve. He would mutter little protests if she stood up, and frequently woke up to wait for her to come back to bed, settling down only when she lay down again.

They would have late-night conversations often. There were just times when she or Fox would know when the other was awake, and the talking would begin.

One night, Fox whispered in the darkness. "Dana?"

"Yes, honey?"

"How does that thing go again?"

"What thing?"

Fox held his hands up, touching the tips of his thumbs and index fingers together. "The eensy, weensy spider climbed up the water sprout."

Dana smiled. "Spout, sweety. Down came the rain and watched the spider out," she sang.

They finished the duet together, both of them doing the actions with their hands. They giggled in the darkness, Fox plopping his head on Dana's shoulder and smiling up at her. "You sing good."

She smiled. "Thank you, honey. Now go to sleep."

He pulled the blanket up over his chin and kissed her cheek. Seconds later, he was in dreamland.

She should have reminded herself more often that the little boy sleeping in her arms was not her son. In fact, the little boy was actually her 37 year-old partner.

---------------
Thursday


At 4 AM, she felt a finger poking into her arm.

Scully reached out and switched a lamp on. "Fox? What is it?" she asked.

He sat cross-legged and propped his chin into his tiny palm. "Where's Samantha? How come I remember mom bringing her home from the hospital, but I'm here?"

Scully sat up in bed and pulled her to sit across her hips, and took his hands in hers. "Samantha's with your mom and dad at Quonochontaug."

"Why did they take her and not me?" he asked, tears threatening to fall.

"Sweety, remember the hospital? You were too sick to go anywhere, and Samantha's still a baby so she needs to always be with your mom. Not like the big boy that you are."

"But I wanted to go, Dana."

"I know, honey. But it won't be good for you because you might get sick again. We're having fun, aren't we?" she asked, praying in her head he wouldn't ask her to bring him to the summerhouse.

"Yeah. But I miss mom. And a little of Samantha, too."

She pulled on his arms and tucked him into her side, caressing his hair comfortingly. "I'm sure they miss you too, Fox. But you want to know something?" she asked.

He looked up at her, ready to poke his thumb into his mouth. "What?"

"I'd miss you more than all of them put together if you weren't here."

The thumb went in, his little mouth moving as he suckled vigorously.

Scully watched his eyes slowly close as he drifted into delighted slumber.

-----------
Friday


Fox was giggling in his sleep. Small chuckles burrowed themselves from her chest where his head lay, and the small puffs of air from his mouth tickled her gently.

Scully put her book aside and peered at him for a better look. His eyes were closed, and just a hint of teeth shown through his smiling lips. His head would cock from side to side, and he would utter a little squeal. "No more, mama! I surrender, I surrender!!"

She smiled down at the little boy and brushed a lock of hair back.

"Dana bought me Oreos today, mama. Double-stuffed too!" Pause. "And she lets me suck out the cream from the Twinkies she buys and she eats the bread instead."

His tone was eager and excited, the little smile still playing on his lips. Scully couldn't have imagined however what he did next. His face tilted, till his cheek rested on the joint of her shoulder and arm and bit. Hard.

"Ayeeee!" she cried, barely being able to restrain herself from hurtling herself out of the bed. Her shriek woke him up, and he lazily sat up, his eyelids still half-closed. "Wassamater?" he asked.

Before Scully could reply, he slumped back into the mattress, grinning happily again. "I was dreamin' of Ho-Hos."

Week 2
6, 7, 8
-------------
Monday

Their days were composed of TV, movies, junk food, the park, his Playstation, and bedtime stories.

Fox wasn't hard to feed, he liked eating everything that Scully cooked. He was short-tempered and initially hardheaded, but turned angelic after noticing that contrary to his memories, there was someone who wanted to shower him with love and lots of affection.

More importantly, she and Fox talked. Their favorite colors, favorite toys, favorite sports. Then there was the more serious side of his family. Contrary to Scully's initial understanding, Mrs. Mulder was actually very affectionate and loving towards Fox, at least before Samantha's abduction. Her temper was somewhat short with him, having been spoiled enough to have a nanny to pass her son to if he was being testy or hardheaded, or needed to get cleaned up.

But she had her moments too. Fox remembered and told Scully about the peek-a-boo game. His mother would lay him on his back on the bed after a bath, raise his legs and hide behind his feet. He would hear her call out, "Where'd mommy go? Where'd Fox go?" and part his feet and say "Peek-a-boo, Fox! Here I am!" and she would laugh and he would too.

There were also his picture books (which he missed and Scully made a mental note to go and buy some), and his mother would sit him on her lap and on good days spend hours telling him what this was and what that was and what it was for. "This is a bus. It brings people from one place to another. This is a radio. You listen to it for the news and songs. This is a whale, it swims in the sea…."

Those times, he said, were the greatest. But mom had other moments, the ones he didn't like too much. She would yell at times for him to "Behave!!" or "Not now, Fox!" or give him a painful spanking because he was being a bad boy.

He liked that he could get away with murder with just one look, or one kiss when it came to Scully. But even more than that, the ideas that had been in his head of being rejected, yelled at and being a nuisance were slowly disappearing.

He taught her how to play Mortal Kombat and Streetfighter, and they spent 6 hours making a city called "Fox'nDana" on Sim City 2000.

Margaret had bought him a new game called Resident Evil. She failed to mention that it had blood, guts, gore and zombies. Scully, who had seen worse during her five years with Mulder and the X-Files, spent most of the time with her hands over her eyes as Fox played.

At least when she and Mulder were on a case, there was no eerie music playing in the background, nor moans and groans that sent chills up her spine. And heck, there was always tomorrow, but Scully was damn happy she never had to pit herself against an acid-spitting 40-foot serpent.

She was fascinated at how quick and eager he was to learn, and Scully wondered if it was an after effect of the high-metabolism or his true nature, maybe even a combination of both. He would recite the contents of a book cover to cover while he was being given his bath, or reenact dialogue from a favorite cartoon program word for word. Some of them actually sounded familiar to her.

Scully was experiencing what it was like to be a parent at the speed of light with a few pros. With Fox, she didn't need to teach him potty training, language, reading or writing. Everything would come back to him in its own time.

The cons were having to come up with spur of the moment excuses for his memories, but she was glad that he was a precocious child. Within the week, she promised herself to try explaining to him what was going on.

Margaret came over frequently to fawn over him.

"You're spoiling him rotten," Dana chided, after seeing the new bag of CD-ROMS she bought for his Playstation and the PC.

"I'm entitled," Margaret defended. "No grandsons yet."

She and Skinner had a long talk about damage control. It would be better if he didn't interact with other children, of course. Too many questions, not enough answers that could be understood by a boy his age. Not that anyone older would understand much of it anyway.

Skinner visited about twice a week to check on how they were doing. On his second visit, Fox had cornered him and challenged him to a game of Tekken3. Scully had tried to talk Fox out of it, embarrassed for the Assistant Director, but Skinner had brushed aside her concern.

"I was in Vietnam, Agent Scully. And I'm Assistant Director of the FBI. I think I can handle this."

After a brief list of instructions from Fox on how to work the control pad, Skinner announced he was ready. Like everything else in his life, Walter Skinner decided that strategy was best called for. He deliberately allowed himself to lose the first three games, trying to gauge what Fox's maneuvers and tactics were. On the fourth game, he decided he would move in for the kill.

Skinner lost in 8.5 seconds.

He looked over at Fox, who gave him a big grin. "You need more practice."

When Skinner gaped at him, Fox reassured, "But it's okay! Dana and I have been playing for a long time and she still can't beat me."

"Best of seven!" Skinner challenged.

"You want to try another game, maybe?"

"No, no. Let's do this one. I'm starting to get the hang of it."

After his 11th straight loss, Scully noticed that the top of Skinner's head was shiny with sweat. She could see the light above his head reflecting across it, and his knuckles almost turning white, clenching the control pad.

Scully walked over to Fox and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Maybe you can let him win one game, honey."

Fox looked up. "M'kay."

"But don't be too obvious, okay?"

He nodded and beat Skinner twice more before letting him win. The AD's arms involuntarily shot up in the air as he yelled, "YES!" then quickly recomposed himself.

Skinner cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. "Well, looks like I'm late for an appointment. I uh.. better go." After wearing his coat, the AD left the apartment with a fond pat on Fox's back. "Next time," he said as he was leaving, "you won't have to let me win. See you around, sport."

Mulder's absence from the office was becoming more and more noticed, prompting Scully and Skinner to have a late night rendezvous for damage control.

They both filed carefully worded and creatively constructed paperwork to explain why she and Mulder would be gone for eleven weeks or so, and the staff at the hospital who had seen what had happened were briefed and sworn to secrecy.

The nurses had been easier to talk to, not having seen much but the three doctors who had witnessed Mulder's regression back to childhood had been much more stubborn. After a one-on-one talking-to with Skinner however, in the FBI's interrogation room no less, they finally relented and agreed not to tell anyone of the incident.

Explaining to Fox what was happening was the most difficult thing of all, however. Sunday night, they were working on their Fox'nDana city when she decided she had to bite the bullet and get it out of her system. It was like keeping a terrible secret, always niggling at the back of her mind.

She would tell him what she felt he would understand now, and the rest as time passed.

She watched him cross-legged on the floor, his mouth slightly open as he scattered fire stations over their city.

For the nth time since this whole thing started, Scully had been constantly astonished and amazed at herself and Fox. The way children adapted to situations was never short of amazing to her, and Fox was adapting extremely well.

They had ridden out a fair amount of the bizarre and unexplainable during the course of their partnership together. Their dependence over the other surpassed any other she had known, read or heard about in her years. Now was the time to test if their partnership could transcend even the barriers of time.

"Fox? Come over here on Dana's lap for a bit, would you?" she asked.

He saved his game and scrambled to the sofa, leaning against her. "Yup?"

Scully put her arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "Have you… noticed that maybe you're different from other boys?"

"Different?" he asked, his facial expression becoming suddenly worried.

"Don't be worried, honey. Not different in a bad way. Remember the hospital?"

He nodded.

"You're growing faster than most boys are, Fox. Did you notice that?"

Another nod. "That's why you're always buying me clothes."

"Right. There's a tiny boo-boo in your blood right now, but it's going away and soon you won't be any different at all from other boys."

"It's weird, Dana. I know there's something different, but I don't feel different. I can't even feel the boo-boo."

Blessed relief. "That's good, honey."

"But-" he interrupted.

Oh god, here it comes. "Yes?"

"How come I remember a lot of stuff that happens that couldn't have happened because I'm here with you? Like Samantha… I remember playing with her and I remember we had her first birthday and I fell and dad called me clumsy." He looked up at her expectantly.

"Those memories all really happened, sweety. But they happened a different time from when you remember them. As you become a bigger boy, you'll learn a lot about how things work." She looked him straight in the eye and smiled warmly. "And you'll learn it quick because you're such a smart boy."

"How smart?" he asked, smiling back, knowing it was game time.

"Smarter than a Fox."

"That's not much smart," he protested.

"Smarter than a dolphin?"

"Nope."

"Smarter than Einstein."

"Whozzat?"

"A very smart man."

"How smart?"

"Lots smart."

"Smarter than you?" he asked.

"Yup."

"So you're saying I'll be smarter than you?" he fished.

Scully pinned him to the sofa and started tickling him. "Don't push your luck, you rascal!!"

She tickled him mercilessly till he was red in the face and shouting "I surrender! I surrender!!!"

Fox was being an absolute horror, downright hardheaded and mischievous. Scully was ready to throw in the towel and leave him on Skinner's doorstep, or her mother's instead, but they both knew where she lived anyway.

For a sick minute, she thought of killing two birds with one stone and dropping him off at her brother Bill's.

Already there was grape juice on her sofa, a toothbrush down the toilet, eight pop tarts whose filling had been sucked out, and a tent made of curtains in the living room.

The day had started out nicely enough. She had woken up with Fox splayed over her, his teddy bear between them, one of his legs across her hips. A peck on his cheek woke him up, and he stretched lazily before scampering to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

From there, everything went downhill. He whined about everything and threw three temper tantrums that left Scully's eardrums ringing. He complained about breakfast, lunch, his afternoon snack and dinner. He demanded to see Gramma, and when Scully told him she was out of the house with friends, he roared in absolute disapproval.

His routine blood test, which had been pretty easy to give him for the last several days, tested the absolute limits of her patience. Her lancet pen, which was used to extract his blood, had 'mysteriously' disappeared when she went to answer the phone.

At 8 PM, God finally gave her a break. Margaret called to say hi.

Scully dumped all her anxiety on her, pleading for the secret and magical solution that only mothers would know. Margaret was laughing hysterically at Fox's antics, and was touched in a warped way when her daughter told her the worst fit was when he found out she wouldn't be coming over.

"He's being a boy his age, Dana. There's nothing you can do but ride it out."

Scully took to whining. "But mom!! There has to be SOMETHING I can do, he's driving me insane!"

"Give the phone to him," Margaret said. She heard Dana call him, and pass the phone.

"Hello?"

"Fox, it's gramma," Margaret said in her most authoritative voice. "I hear you're being mischievous today."

No answer.

"Dana's very worried about you. Is there something wrong you want to tell just me? It can be our secret."

"No," he murmured.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I dunno," he answered honestly.

Margaret knew he was telling the truth. "There are just sometimes when you feel like you want to fight with the world, huh, sweety?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, Fox. Dana and I know what you're going through. But try to let Dana know it isn't her fault, okay? She's really worried about you."

"She is?" he asked, his voice containing shreds of guilt.

"Yes, just give her a hug. You don't have to say sorry or anything if you don't feel like it. Can you do that for me, hon?" she asked.

Scully observed Fox nod his head and murmur yes into the phone. He hung up and kept his eyes glued to the floor. "'M sorry."

My mother the superhero, thought Scully. She knelt down and opened her arms to him, where he went slowly, but willingly. "It's okay, Fox. I love you. You know that, right?"

Scully could've sworn she saw his eyes water just a diminutive bit, but didn't get a chance to investigate. His head was buried in the crook of her neck and he was fastened to her tightly.


-------------------
Wednesday

Scully had just come out of a hot shower, dressed in her panties and a bra. She was certain she had locked the door and was busily searching for a pair of jeans to wear when she heard "Wassat on your back, Dana?" and she whirled around to see Fox pointing at her tattoo.

How he managed to sneak into a locked room noiselessly would forever be a mystery to her. "Um, it's a tattoo, sweety."

"What's a tattoo? And it looks like a snake to me."

"It is. It's a tattoo of a snake eating it's tail."

"Yuck," he replied, but moved closer for a better look. His index finger reached out, following the pattern. "What's it made of?"

"Paint made for the skin, so it doesn't wash off."

"You mean it's there forever?" he asked, eyes widening.

"Yes," she answered, mortification that MULDER would remember this later on sinking in. "Well, actually no. You can have it removed now with lasers."

"Ouch!" he said. "Would that hurt a lot?"

"No. Well, maybe just a little bit. Now scoot and let me dress up in peace, young man."

He turned around and gave her a knowing smile. Scully almost jerked back in surprise - the smile positively looked like a Mulder smirk for one flash of a second.

Week 3
9, 10, 11
-------------
Monday

"Fox, save the game and come over here, please. I need to talk to you."

He saved his game of Resident Evil 2 and turned the TV off and sat beside her.

Scully inhaled deeply. This was going to be hard. "Remember those memories about Samantha?"

"Yes," he answered cautiously, not liking the worry on her face.

"Next week, Fox… you're going to have some bad dreams. When you turn 12."

He looked up at her with fear in his eyes. "Bad dreams, Dana?"

She gathered him into her lap and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, one hand patting his thigh consolingly, the other smoothing his hair away from his face. "I know it's hard, Fox. But I'll see you through them as best as I can, okay?"

She felt him nod and cling to her tightly. "What kind of dreams?"

"They'll be about Samantha. You have to remember Fox, that whatever you see in those dreams, no matter how much they make you think something, it's not true, okay?"

He frowned and looked up at her. "I don't understand, Dana."

"I know I'm not making any sense now, but you WILL understand when it happens. Trust me, okay?"

Fox nodded and hugged her again.

"And I don't want you to think that there's anything you have to keep from me, okay?"

He hiccuped, a sign he was becoming frightened. "I'm afraid, Dana."

She pulled him into her lap and kissed his forehead. "I'm here for you, Fox. I'm here."

Week 4
12, 13, 14
--------------
Tuesday

The first dream about the abduction happened on a Tuesday. He woke up screaming Samantha's name and he was covered in sweat, his body shaking in fear.

Scully had sprung up in bed, stunned at the ferocity of his nightmare. It was still fresh in his mind, and she had been a mere bystander later on when the memories were older.

She had reached an arm out to touch him, and he pushed himself off the bed and onto the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs, "WHERE'S MY SISTER?!?!?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!"

For a full minute, he didn't even recognize her. His eyes were wild and unfocused, and Scully could see perspiration dripping from his chin in huge drops.

He ran out of the room and flung himself into a corner and wept, pushing Scully away when she tried to comfort him.

She spent the rest of the night watching over him from the dimly lit dining room, as the demons caught up with him and seared him with their pitchforks.

The memories, or lack thereof of Samantha and her sudden disappearance made every little noise shatter his nerves. He tried his best to keep it from Scully, fearing he was being a nuisance in spite of her many attempts to let him know it was okay to share and confide to her.

Scully knew what kinds of memories were coming back. The fights his parents were having, the slow but powerful conflicts that began breaking the family apart, and the accusations that flew from mouths. The most traumatic of course, were the ones that crawled out and they were the most vivid. What's worse, they were coming back faster than he could handle them.

He refused to talk it over with her, thinking she had betrayed him by not having said what he'd be going through like before.

Scully had tried her best to explain to him what had happened, but he would hear none of it. A large chasm was forged between them after a single night.

Fox had asked her, "Why didn't you tell me? What happened that night, was it my fault? Was it really my fault?"

And she would try so hard to say that no, it wasn't. He couldn't have done anything at all. Even if her were older or stronger, but it went into one ear and out the other. He became very adept at shoving her away.

In the middle of the week, he would stay as far away from her as possible on the bed, hoping that it would be enough to keep her from feeling his jerks and spasms during the nightmares. No longer did he seek out the warmth and security she gave so willingly, nor did he want to let the cross on his back slide off.

Scully had felt like the world's biggest failure when she woke up in the middle of the night to find his side of the bed empty. He had opted to sleep on the floor instead of beside her.

His sudden withdrawal frightened her enough to call her mother.

Margaret had told Dana to help him ride out the bad dreams, not to wake him as much as possible but to be the first to be there when he opened his eyes.

The horrible night demons that attacked him, coupled with a normal teenager's raging hormones antagonized the tumultuous emotions that were coursing through him for most of the night.

Scully watched over him, foregoing her own sleep to see what she could do to help him. If she did exactly what he needed, even the old Mulder might be cured of the nightly visits of the demons. And that was a most noble sentiment - to share the pain of a man who was only her partner at work, not her lover or blood relation so that his slumber might have a semblance to normalcy.

As his moans increased, Scully sat up in bed and gathered him to her chest. He was murmuring, "It's not my fault, dad," over and over again, and "I'm sorry, mom. I'm sorry."

Scully decided it was the best time to tackle the problem. Now or never.

She placed her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Fox, it wasn't your fault. You're still a baby, you did everything that you could. Your father and I are just glad they didn't take you too."

"No," he answered. "Dad said if I'd been braver I could have done something!"

My god, Dana thought. "Fox, your father said that because he didn't know what he was saying then. It was guilt and fear talking, not him. I know that he doesn't really feel that way, because I don't," she said strenuously. "You're still my baby and if anything had happened to you too, I'd be lost forever."

He was hiccuping viciously, but what she had just said obviously had meaning to him. He clutched at her sleeve and clung for dear life. "Do you still love me, mom?"

Scully kissed his forehead, letting her lips rest against his flushed skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. "More than ever, Fox."

He rested his head on her chest, snuggling closer.

Woman's instinct, maternal instinct, partner instinct. Whatever it was, Scully knew it was the beginning of the end of Fox Mulder's nightmares.

When Scully woke up, he was no longer in bed beside her, but standing in front of the window watching the sunrise.

She stood up and walked behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to face her and gave her a wistful smile, then looked back out the window again.

Patiently, she sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for him to speak up. If last night held any merit to his self-torture, he would be confused why his feelings of inadequacy and guilt had shifted and not consciously.

"Was there anything else I could have done?" he suddenly asked, breaking the early morning silence.

"No." she replied immediately.

"Then why did they blame me, Dana? I remember they blamed me. I remember my father hitting me and telling me I was a faggot for not having done anything. I remember mom yelling at me not to go near her because she couldn't stand seeing me. And I remember the kids at school saying I probably murdered her." His voice was measured, quiet and intense.

Scully stared at the figure of the boy before her - a child viciously torn from his world, and she wept silent tears for him. Because at this moment in his time and his space, 12 year old Fox Mulder was now a scarred man.

Too soon, too soon.

"Your parents had no one else to blame, Fox," she said gently. "They weren't even in the house when it happened. Maybe if at least one of them had been there, it could have been avoided." She rose to her feet and stood behind him. "Grown-ups are like that. They're bad at accepting failure and sometimes, they blame the most convenient person to blame."

"And it was me?"

She stood and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I know it's hard to believe you parents can be wrong about anything, Fox." She cupped his chin and made him look at her. He resisted for a few seconds, then met his eyes with hers. "It's not your fault."

He averted his gaze, trying to break free of her hold on his chin, but she opposed him. "It's not your fault."

"No one told me that." His eyes welled up and tears started falling down his cheeks. He heaved and started shaking, and Scully put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Shh," she whispered, stroking his back. "It's okay, Fox. I'm here for you."

They stood in front of the window, exorcising his agony. Every tear he shed was a drop towards his catharsis, and only the end of the world would stop Scully from holding him till they all ran out.

After he cried in her arms, Scully let him go do some thinking by himself. She made them both breakfast, although she knew he wouldn't be eating. She watched TV, even played with his Playstation, patiently waiting for him to take the next step.

He was staring off into space most of the day, wandering around the tiny apartment. Scully had told him it was okay if he wanted to go outside and take a walk, but he had said he didn't want to leave her alone.

The hours ticked by slowly for her, anxious and nervous about what Fox was thinking about.

If perhaps the guilt he had suffered throughout his childhood had now been dealt with well, would he be a new and changed Mulder? A Mulder with no more demons stalking him around every corner. What would he be like? More carefree, perhaps? More unguarded, less defensive, more optimistic, less cynical?

The possibilities were endless. How would this change affect their relationship? Would it affect it at all or not?

Scully had a sudden migraine attack from all the questions flitting through her head. Two fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, and she shut her eyes tightly. When she opened them, Fox was hunched beside her. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

Scully smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"I was thinking maybe you'd let me do dinner tonight. Sound okay?"

Fox cooking dinner. Mulder cooking dinner. A 13 year-old Fox Mulder cooking dinner. Hmmm….either way you sliced or diced it, it sounded dubious. But it could definitely become interesting.

"Sure," she answered. "What are you thinking of cooking up?"

He grinned at her and moved to the kitchen. "I'm not quite sure yet. There are a few recipes floating around in my head, but I'm not sure which one I want to try. I remember puttering around the kitchen back at home, I was really hungry and the cook had already left. Mom and dad were out - that happened frequently - so I taught myself how to cook." He opened the shelves and inspected the fridge. "From what I remember it wasn't so bad, so take that look off your face," he chuckled.

"What look?" she replied innocently.

"The look that says 'I hope I remember how to dial 911'," he replied.

They exchanged smiles that communicated a thousand words.

Things were definitely looking up.

Fox decided he wanted to make steak and mashed potatoes. After marinating the meat in soy sauce, garlic, some lemon juice and thyme, he set about boiling the potatoes.

He sat on the counter as Scully puttered around him, cleaning up the mess as he went along and assisting him when she thought he needed some help.

Fox was more silent than usual, occasionally asking Scully a question or two about what she knew about him. Scully sensed he wanted to ask her about Samantha but was walking on egg shells, and of course he was at that very moment, already experiencing flashbacks about her kidnapping.

Margaret called to check up on them, and was exhilarated with Dana's good news of how Fox was coping. She came over planning to cook a huge celebration meal and almost dropped her mixing bowl when Fox opened the door, towering over her.

"Hi, gramma!" he greeted, taking the bowl from her and engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Oh, my!" Margaret gushed. "You've…you've…GROWN!!" she exclaimed.

He laughed and led her inside, calling out "Dana! Gramma's here!"

"Be out in a minute!" she called.

"Watcha cooking tonight, gramma?" he asked, jostling the mixing bowl in his hands. "Chicken?"

"No, honey. I know you're a beefeater. Hamburgers sound good?"

"Does it ever!" he exclaimed, playfully yanking on her sleeve as she made her way into the kitchen. He hoisted himself to sit on the kitchen counter as Margaret prepared dinner.

"And I'm sure you'll want french fries with you burgers, young man?" asked Margaret.

"Yup," he grinned. "But Dana taught me how to make those. Want to taste?"

"By all means," she smiled. "But you do realize that recipe of hers is from me, don't you?"

He bowed dramatically. "Who else?"

They worked in companionable silence, Fox peeling potatoes as Margaret prepared her hamburger mix. Dana would of course protest she was spoiling him again, but it was hard for Margaret to resist. Fox was such a charming young man, and the change in him was astounding. There was still sadness in his eyes, maybe even a hint of seriousness no doubt caused by the memories of his missing sister and less than ideal family life but he was obviously a much happier young man. Like Dana, she wished that it would carry over back into his adulthood.

Scully walked into the kitchen and peered over her mother's shoulder. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Of course," answered Margaret. "A young man needs meat, sweetheart."

"I'm making your mom's french fries, Dana," remarked Fox.

An eyebrow arched. "My MOTHER'S french fries?"

"Well, it's her recipe, isn't it?" he grinned, then bumped into Margaret playfully.

"Smart ass," replied Scully. "I'll heat up some oil for your grease festival."

As Dana and Margaret cooked dinner, Fox set the table. In hushed whispers, Margaret marveled to her daughter how well-adjusted Fox seemed to be. "He looks marvelous, honey."

Scully decided that by next week, Fox would be turning 15, 16 and 17, and would need a room of his own for that period of time. The guestroom of her apartment would be acceptable, but she and Fox needed to buy a bed, sheets, pillows, a small cabinet for his clothes, and toiletries as well.

"Can't I just keep sleeping with you, Dana?" he begged. "I don't move around much, do I?"

Scully ruffled his hair. "Fox, next week you're going to go through puberty in seven days. Usually, it takes anywhere from one to six years and even that amount of time is too fast for other boys. Trust me, in the long run, you'll appreciate the privacy."

"What if I have the nightmares about Samantha again?" he asked glumly.

"Then you're more than welcome to come over to my room and stay with me then, okay?"

But Fox couldn't help but feel like he was being a burden by doing so. Surely, if Dana really meant it, she would have let him stay with her in her bed. He terribly missed sleeping beside her, where at any point during the night he'd wake up, he could feel her warmth. He also missed the way she caressed his hair to make him fall asleep faster, and waking her up in the morning to see her smile.

His first night alone in his own room was horrible, but not because of any nightmares. He tossed and turned for most of the night, and would only reach the state of being half asleep, at which point he would search out for Dana's warmth only to discover he was alone. A hand would shoot out to run over the covers and find only empty sheets, and Fox would sit up and whimper quietly. It took every ounce of willpower not to stand up pad into Dana's room to slide into bed with her.

Instead, he did the next best thing he could think off. He tiptoed to her bedroom, which she had thoughtfully left open and watched her from the doorway.

Fox smiled softly to himself. Dana was still on her side of the bed, as though she too couldn't get used to sleeping alone.

He knew he was too old to want to sleep beside her. Already he was almost taller than she, and he had even teased her mercilessly for it, but there was just no beating falling asleep to her soft breathing, the smell of her soap and shampoo, and the glow that radiated from her skin.

Absolutely nothing.

Quietly, he made his way back to his room and closed his eyes. This time, slumber was not elusive.

Week 5
15, 16, 17
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Monday

His voice lowered overnight and Scully could almost see the sudden transformations of his physique as the hours passed.

His body, although lean for the last couple of weeks, hardened into sinewy muscles. His Adam's apple suddenly popped out of his throat, and his body hair grew out.

He let her witness his 'first shave,' and for the first time in her life, Scully felt like a pedophile, admiring his budding anatomy in the mirror as he expertly ran the razor across his jaw, shirtless and fresh from a hot shower.

The nightmares had come to an almost complete stop, Scully sneaking into his room to make sure he wasn't lying to her and only saying that to keep her from worrying about him.

Fox had learned to deal with any memories that came back to him at this point with a grain of salt. He could still remember many lonely nights he had spent alone in his room crying, terrified of his father and resentful of his mother, and his contemplation of how he fit into his sister's disappearance.

When Dana caught him flipping through her medical books, she had informally questioned him on what he had dug up, and was impressed with his answers.

This prompted her to explain to him what he was exactly going through. She had used all the medical jargon there was on his situation, confident that in so far as medical jargon was concerned, he was capable of understanding.

The humdinger of it all was that he was already actually a grown 37 year-old man who had been her partner in the FBI for the last 5 years. She brought him photos of himself with her in a tiny office that she said belonged to a bunch called The Lone Gunmen, his badge from the FBI, several case files with his name on them and showed him his driver's license.

When he had managed to close his mouth and regulate his breathing, she had asked him if he believed her. It never occurred to him not to. This was, after all, Dana.

Dana had cleared things up for him, made him stop feeling worthless and told him what he had always craved to hear. He had needed reassurance, and she had given it to him. He wondered how he had managed to keep himself from putting an end to his life without her.

It helped to read the numerous case files she had given him, and he hungrily read through each and every one of them. It shed some light on what he was going through, where the world he knew to be the last line of truth shared an expanse with magic, mystery and the paranormal.

On Tuesday, Dana took him to a nearby basketball court and watched as he made friends with a few other boys for a game. She cheered for him as he showboated , dunking the ball in and making graceful lay-ups. The team he was on won, and the boys invited him back for another game the following day. Dana overheard him tell them he was only visiting, and would be leaving that same night. By tomorrow, they would notice the sudden physical difference and ask too many questions.

She moved away from him and the rest of the boys to give him time to say goodbye.

One of the boys, a freckled youth with long brown hair asked Fox who she was. Fox smiled her way and waved, deliberately keeping his voice low so she wouldn't here it. "She's my guardian angel."

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END PART 1