From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 5 Nov 2001 03:18:09 -0000
Subject: Wambli(1/18) by Virtues & Vices
Source: direct

Reply To: virtuesandvices@aol.com


TITLE: Wambli
AUTHOR: Virtie
E-MAIL: virtuesandvices@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/fanficcorner/
RATING: Mild NC-17, for language and sexual situations.
CATEGORY: TR - Adventure/Romance
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, X-File, Conspiracy, Mulder/other.
SPOILERS: Lot's of quotes, but no real spoilers. 
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please let me know first.
SUMMERY: A sequel to my 'Someday' trilogy, which started
with 'The Letter', continued with 'Eyes in the Night', and
ending with 'Someday'. These stories do not have to be read
to understand this one, but it is advised. 'Wambli' takes
place five years after 'Someday'.
DISCLAIMER: All X-File characters belong to CC, 10-13
Productions, and FOX. I'm not making anything really useful
from this, but I hope readers have fun reading it. The town
of Lincoln, the county of McCloud, and the Bad River Indian
Reservation are all fictional, though they are based on real
places. Other South Dakota landmarks are real.
DEDICATION: To my fellow writers whoes work I still read
with a passion and who continue to support me in my feeble
attempts to emulate them, namely: Storm, Lovesfox, Havisham,
ShipMe, SASpooky and Foxie Meg, as well as all the residents
of Slap Happy's! Thanks, gals!

************************************************************

WAMBLI

*****

"For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts;
even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth
the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that the man
hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity."

Ecclesiastes 4:19

*****

The Skies Over Western South Dakota
Summer

Wambli was hunting.

This event wasn't abnormal. After all, she spent 90% of her
waking hours on the hunt. She had to, seeing as nearly 9 out
of 10 dives she made at prey failed. Those weren't bad odds;
in fact, they were much better than others of her kind.
Wambli was special, and she knew it.

It was hot today. And windy. Another normal occurrence on
the Northern Plains during early August. As she soared,
Wambli felt the heat of the sun beating against the back of
her golden head, and her mouth opened, allowing the hot air
in her body to escape. She would have to find a place to
rest soon. And maybe a shallow pool to bathe in. Hot days
like this demanded access to cool water. But she was hungry,
and she needed food; she hadn't eaten in at least five days.
She turned away from the sun and twisted her head a bit to
gaze downward. The prairie grass was brown already; it had
been a dry summer. The earth tones of the prairie blended
into the barren, rocky moonscape of the Badlands, making it
almost impossible to tell where one began and the other
ended.

Her large brown eyes spotted movement immediately. A
pispiza, or prairie dog. A young one, not yet smart enough
to stay out of the sun when it was this hot. Or one that
thought he was so smart that by feeding in the heat he would
avoid being killed by the average hunter. If she could
physically have done so, Wambli would have smiled; she was
far from average.

With a sharp pull of muscle, she reduced her seven foot long
wingspan considerably, directing her large, but lightweight,
body downward. For several meters she dropped, her speed
nearing 70 miles per hour. The burrowing rodent never saw
her...until it was too late. He screeched and ran for the
nearest entrance to his underground town, but 14 pounds of
feather and hollow bone crashed into him. Wambli spread her
wings and fanned her tail feathers as she reached the little
yellow animal, stretching her feet out to grab him. Her
black talons wrapped themselves around the furry body,
squeezing with pressure that could easily break bone. The
deadly claws sank into flesh, severed arteries, and
punctured organs. Pain was minimal as the little prairie dog
died almost instantly.

With a satisfied shriek, Wambli began tearing into the warm
body. She used her feet to hold her meal down as she ripped
upward with her powerful beak. The unfortunate victim's
family members popped their heads out of their burrows,
squeaking and chirping amongst themselves as they watched
her eat. They were unafraid. Wambli had her meal; she was
content...for the moment.

She swallowed the small animal in three bites. Bone, fur,
everything. Her body would digest most of it; all but the
fur, which she would regurgitate later in the form of a
soft, oblong shaped pellet. A large lump appeared in her
throat as she ate; her crop filling with food. It would be
ground up there before being further digested in her
stomach. It was a bird's way of 'chewing', since they had no
teeth. With a sigh, Wambli shook herself, closing her wings
against her body and bringing her tail feathers back into
their relaxed wedge-shaped position. She turned her head
almost 180 degrees to straighten a mussed feather on her
back, her flexible neck showing no strain at the position.

A noise caught her attention and she stood straighter, her
head swiveling toward the sound. A truck was driving toward
her, dust trailing thickly along behind it. With a powerful
thrust of her legs, Wambli sent her body into the air, her
wings taking over and carrying her up into the blue,
cloudless sky. Humans were coming. She had long ago learned
to avoid them at all costs.

Content with her meal, Wambli went in search of an updraft.
On this hot day, it wasn't hard to find. The thermal current
she found allowed her to soar in circles with a minimum of
effort, carrying her farther and farther upward. The Turkey
Vulture, common in these parts during the warm months, was
the most accomplished of the raptors at soaring, but her own
kind was quite adept as well. Slowly, lazily she circled the
sky, her binocular vision watching as things got smaller and
smaller beneath her. Miles and miles of open prairie
stretched before her eyes, ending at the base of a small
range of mountains to the west. Paha Sapa. The Black Hills.
She passed over a highway, watching curiously the traffic
that traveled it. Not much, but more than in the winter
months. 

She passed over a ranch, over a herd of cattle grazing in
the field. Wambli had no use for cows, even during calving
season. She was large enough and strong enough to kill a
newborn calf, but she would not be able to fly away with it.
She could barely fly with something half her own body
weight. Newborn lambs offered more promise; they could at
least be dragged into hiding. But the season for birthing
was long gone; rabbits, prairie dogs, prairie chickens and
the occasional skunk were all that interested her these
days.

Something caught her eye again, and carefully, she shifted
her weight against the pull of the air currents she was
riding and flew down to have a closer look. It was a dead
calf. She circled closer. No other cattle were near, and two
vultures were already feeding on the fresh carcass. Wambli
considered. It was a recent death, probably due to sickness
or a pack of wild dogs. Coyotes would no doubt be blamed,
thought they rarely went after livestock in the summer when
other game was much easier to catch. Fresh meat, easily
obtained, was something she couldn't refuse. She made her
way toward the body.

One of the vultures immediately flew away. Though almost as
big as she was, the large black bird with the bald red head
was not a fighter. Their feet were made for walking, not
killing. And they were smart; smart enough to know when not
to argue with a predator as large as she was. The other was
an old male, smaller than the female who had just flown
away. He looked at Wambli with unconcerned eyes, hissed at
her, then continued to pull at the dead calf's hide. Wambli
landed and strode over to the carcass. She eyed the old
vulture for a while, then began  to eat, leaving him be. 

She settled into the meal, concentrating on the job, when
the old one across from her hissed again. Wambli's head shot
up and her body tensed, ready for take-off. But it was too
late. With a loud pop and a sharp rattle, the net that had
been hidden under the dirt flew up and over both birds. She
screamed and began struggling desperately, but she knew it
was no use. She readied her claws for defense. The old
vulture, not having the sharp talons of his fellow captive,
turned and faced his captors, two men who were striding
toward them wearing heavy leather jackets and welder's
gloves. With another hiss, he did what vultures do when
frightened: he vomited.

Even Wambli, with her limited sense of smell, felt sick. The
men groaned, but continued to move forward.

"Why the hell didn't you wait for the damn vulture to leave
first?" one of the men complained. 

"And take the chance of losing her?" the other answered. "No
way." Slowly, cautiously, the made their way toward the
enraged bird. "Naw. This pretty baby's gonna bring a good
price on the Rez. Old WhiteEagle loves the really big ones."

If she had been capable, Wambli would have groaned aloud,
but she could only do it in her heart. 'Not again,' she
thought. 'Not again.'

************************************************************


"Only place you had to be on time was home for
dinner...Never had to lock your doors. No modems. No faxes.
No cell phones."

"Mulder, if you had to do without a cell phone for two
minutes you'd lapse into catatonic schizophrenia."

Episode 4x03-Home

*****

McCloud County, South Dakota
Mid-August

The silver Chevy Blazer with 'McCoud County Sheriff'
imprinted on the side cruised down the highway heading north
toward Lincoln, its headlights slashing a path through the
prairie darkness. Inside the vehicle, the McCloud County
Sheriff was finishing a conversation with one of the
county's few lawyers. 

"Yeah, Tom. I understand. But at least try to get the kid's
parents to agree to him seeing a counselor, okay?"

"You bet, Sheriff. 'Night, now."

"Goodnight." With a sigh, he pressed the end button on the
small handheld instrument, then deliberately turned it off.
It had been one hell of a long day. A hell of a long week.
But at least it was over now, just a few minutes before
midnight on this Friday night, and he was on his way home at
last. His window was open, and he breathed in the warm
summer night as the breeze stirred up by his vehicle blew
inside, ruffling his dark hair. The crickets were loud in
the still night, with no wind to intrude on their symphony.
No wind was rare in these parts, he knew. Having lived here
for three years now, he felt he knew the prairie well. He
respected it, resented it at times. Loved it more than hated
it. Never wanted to leave it or the people that called it
home. 

Despite this, he was anxious for tomorrow, when he and his
family would leave it for a day. The two hour drive to Rapid
City was taken about once a month, sometimes more, and they
planned to go tomorrow. They would leave these desolate
plains for tree filled mountains filled with the hustle and
bustle of tourist season...but only for a day. Ten years
ago, he would have laughed if anyone told him he would be
content as a small town Sheriff in no-where South Dakota.
Content with his family. At peace with his life. 

But he was.

He slowed as he reached his turnoff, which was slightly less
than a mile before reaching the limits of Lincoln,
population 2,621. He pulled off the blacktop and onto the
gravel drive leading to his house. It sat on 20 acres of
prime land, perfect for horses to graze and children to
play. Large cottonwood and oak trees lined the drive, and as
he rounded a bend and drove over a slight hill, the house
came into view. Large without being monstrous, the ranch
style, two story house had been built years ago, long before
they had bought it, on property that had been settled in
1883. He smiled when he saw the light on in the living room
window. Though he knew his family was most likely in bed,
his wife had left a light on for him. The simple gesture
touched him every time he came home in the dark.

His headlights flashed on the gardens that lined the house,
full of blooming flowers. Though the season had been dry,
his wife had kept the gardens, both the flowers here in
front of the house, and the vegetables in the back, growing
beautifully. Two dogs raced out from behind the house,
barking. A quick shout out the window had them quieting, but
they still raced wildly about, tails moving non-stop,
welcoming their master home. He quickly rolled his window up
and parked next to the Cavalier in front of the garage,
which they rarely used in the summer. He got out and the
dogs began jumping on him.

"Bad dogs," he said halfheartedly. "You know you're not
supposed to do that!" The black and white Border Collie
Ricky and the Rottweiler Grizz ignored him, trying to jump
up his 6 foot length to lick his face. They nearly
succeeded; Grizz had the size and Ricky had the bounce.

He made his way around the house to the side door, noticing
as he did the distant flash of lightning in the Northeast.
For a moment he felt hope that the storm would move this
way, bringing rain. But he knew it was the wrong direction.
Most of their storms came from the west. He stepped into the
mudroom, where the light was also on waiting for him,
leaving the dogs outside; they only got to come in during
the frigid nights of winter. He stepped out of his work
boots, setting them by the door next to a smaller pair of
work boots, two pairs of cowboy boots, and two tiny pairs of
shoes.

He removed his holster from his belt, took out the gun,
removed its clip, then put the gun back into the holster. He
stepped over to a high cupboard and placed the ammunition
clip inside, locking the door. The gun, empty of all
ammunition, would be placed in the drawer next to the bed
with his wife's, which was also empty. This ritual had
started more than three years ago, ever since his son had
started crawling. This house, this town, was the first place
he had felt comfortable living unarmed since he was a child.

He left the mudroom and entered the kitchen, flipping the
light off behind him. He moved carefully through the dark
room, intent on the light showing from around the corner in
the living room, his sock covered feet almost soundless on
the linoleum. He knew there would be something to eat in the
fridge, but he had eaten with one of his deputies, Lucas,
earlier, and he wasn't hungry...at least not for food.

Entering the living room, he grimaced at the sight that
beheld him. "Samson! Down!" His voice was quite, but firm.
The little grey and white Shih Tzu glared at him from the
couch, but jumped down anyway. With his tail between his
legs, he wandered over to the pet bed, where the gold and
white Pekinese, Delilah, lay, her little mouth open and
panting in the warm night, her long tail wagging. "And stay
down," he said to the little dog before switching off the
light and heading up the dark stairs.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark again as he peeked
into the first room he passed, the door only half closed.
His four-year-old son lay sprawled on his bed, the covers
pushed off both him and the bed. Though they had an
air-conditioner downstairs, the cool air had a hard time
reaching the upstairs bedrooms. One of the modern amenities
the house had lacked when they bought it was central air. He
smiled as the boy moved slightly, sighing in his sleep,
mussing his dark hair more than it already was. Quietly, he
leaned out and started up the hall to the next door, which
was also half open.

He stepped inside this room, walking carefully over to the
crib in the center of the room. His six-month-old daughter
slept here. She lay on her belly, her dark hair damp from
sweat. He brought his hand down to wipe her forehead gently,
trying not to wake her, and was relieved to find her
forehead cool, despite the sweat. It was just the heat and
not a fever. Little Marisa had been sick two weeks ago with
the chicken pox, which she had gotten from her brother. She
was recovering fine, but he still worried. He bent over the
railing of the crib and placed a kiss on the baby's head. He
checked to make sure the baby monitor was on, then left the
room. His final stop was the bedroom directly across from
Marisa's.

He entered the room and headed directly for the bathroom,
not turning on the light until the door was closed. Setting
the gun on the counter, he quickly stripped off his clothes
down to his boxers, relieved himself, then quickly washed up
at the sink. He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror
for a moment. At forty-five, he was still a handsome man, or
so his wife told him, and he had to admit he was aging well,
though he still thought his nose was too big for his face.
The lines around his eyes and mouth were more prominent than
they had been five years ago, but she reassured him that
they were there not because of age, but because he had
learned to laugh more. His hair was shorter than ever,
almost military short, and he had started to wear a beard
during the winter, which kept his face warm, shaving it when
spring rolled around. He had changed a lot in five years.

His eyes had changed the most, he thought. No longer did
they carry that deep depression that had followed him since
he was twelve. There was still a hint of sadness about them;
that wasn't unusual given the horrors he had experienced in
his life. But there was a calmness, a contentment, now. He
was happy. And not at all afraid to show it.

With a small smile still on his face, he left the bathroom,
grabbing the gun and flipping off the light at the same
time. He walked toward the bed, where his wife slept. He
looked at her while he placed his weapon in the drawer next
to the bed. She had her back to him, her long red hair
twisted in a braid. Like her son, she had pushed the covers
off of herself, and the tee-shirt she wore, his tee-shirt,
had worked its way upward, exposing her legs, her simple
cotton panties, and her lower back. Including the tattoo.
With a smirk, he turned back toward the door, closing it. He
didn't lock it, not when there was a chance their son might
need them, but the boy already knew to knock and ask to come
in if the door was closed. It gave his parents at least some
time to reorganize themselves. 

He moved back to the bed, turning the baby monitor up so
they could hear Marisa despite any noise they might make,
slipped out of his boxers and slid onto the bed behind his
wife. He was already half aroused. Even after five years of
marriage, all he had to do was think about her. God, he was
lucky.

He stretched out behind her small form, wrapping his arm
around her, and began to nuzzle her neck. She sighed.

"Mulder?"

He smiled against her skin. She was always the one who had
to remind them not to use 'those' names, but when she was
tired or stressed or angry, she often slipped. "No," he
whispered against her ear, then took the rim gently between
his teeth.

"Oops," she breathed, then she pushed her bottom against
him. "Sorry."

He chuckled, knowing she would probably say it again before
they were done. Even after five years, their subconscious
refused to deny their real identities. And that was okay,
just as long as they only slipped in private. Even then,
they were getting better at calling each other by their
current first names. She hardly ever called him 'Fox' at
certain...significant...moments like she used to. Of
course, that could be because she had, after days of
cajoling, convinced him to name their son Fox. She once told
him it was a little strange to be shouting out her son's
name during sex, especially since he hadn't even been
conceived that way.

"Mmmmm," she breathed as his hand slipped underneath her
shirt to toy with her breasts. "The kids?" she asked. 

"All is well," he mumbled. "Though we should consider
getting air-conditioning up here. Fox's bedding was on the
floor. And Mishka was sweating like a pig." Mishka was his
pet name for their daughter.

"Pigs don't sweat," she quipped. "Did you check for fever?"

"Yes," he told her. "She's fine." He began to pull down her
panties. "Can I have these off, please?"

She willingly helped him slide the underwear down her legs.
A touch between her legs told him she was more than ready.
Without further ado, he slid into her from behind, bringing
her right leg back over his.

"What ever happened to foreplay?" she said on a moan.

"You tell me," he countered. "What the heck were you
dreaming about before I got here?"

"What else?" she whispered. He smiled, knowing the answer.
"Harrison Ford." She squealed as he pinched her nipple.

"Very funny."

Talking stalled as his movements increased in intensity. She
rocked back against him, moaning in that way she had that
made him crazy. Their coupling lasted much longer than the
foreplay had, ending in powerful climaxes that had them
breathing hard and sweating more. Without another word, he
pulled away from her, knowing it was too hot to cuddle, and
let himself drift.

"Mulder?" Her sleepy voice caused him to open his eyes and
look at her. She had turned to face him.

"Hmmmm?"

"Work?"

He smiled. "Free for the weekend. Lucas is handling it."

She smiled back at him, then closed her eyes and fell
asleep.

He sighed and closed his own eyes. Tomorrow would be a busy
day, but a good kind of busy. They were driving to Rapid for
brunch, then they were spending the day in the Hills. They
planned on stopping at Mt. Rushmore. And Reptile Gardens was
at the top of the list, too. Even Mishka would love the
funny animals there. Maybe, if they had time, they could
stop at the Rock. They hadn't been there since Fox was
Mishka's age.

Sunday, his wife would take Fox and attend mass at St.
Joseph's in Bad River, and they would spend the afternoon
playing outside, in the shade, being lazy. 

Perfect.

And so Ian Zweifel, Sheriff of McCloud County for the past
two years, resident of Lincoln, South Dakota for the past
three, husband of Dr. Sara Zweifel, the local pediatrician,
for five years, and father of Fox and Marisa, fell asleep.

Completely unaware that his idyllic, dreamlike life was
about to come to a shattering end.

*****

Wambli-Part 2/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Scully, you don't know me as well as you think you do. You
know my work demands that I live in a big city, but if I had
to settle down, build a home, it'd be a place like this."

"It'd be like living in Mayberry."

Episode 4x03-Home

*****

Sunday turned out to be a bit cooler that the rest of the
week had been, with the thermometer only reaching 86
degrees. Though storm clouds were already building in the
northwest, the Zweifel family was enjoying the afternoon
outside in their backyard. It was a perfect backyard, with
thick grass that was watered regularly, despite the dry
summer, and therefore was still green. Old oak trees grew
here, having been planted by the original settlers back in
1883, and a Weeping Willow, though much younger than the
oaks, brought a great deal of shade. It was under this
willow that Sara Zweifel lay, regarding the day through lazy
eyes.

She had been reading, lying reclined in the grass, the
persistent Dakota breeze fanning her long red hair and the
draping branches of the tree above her, but had put her book
down a short while ago in favor of watching her husband and
son. Ian was attempting to teach Fox how to bat. She smiled
as she remembered a similar training session from several
years ago, with herself as the 'trainee'. This session was
going a bit different than that one had gone, but it was
just as fun. The bat being used was big, blue, and made of
plastic, as was the ball. Ian was on his knees next to his
son, bringing him close to the little boy's level. The wind
ruffled their sable colored hair and laughter flashed in
their hazel eyes. They looked so much alike, it was
frightening. And wonderful.

She glanced over at her baby daughter, who lay napping on a
blanket next to her. Little Marisa had the same dark brown
hair, but she had gotten her mother's blue eyes and fair
complexion, with a small smattering of freckles that she may
or may not grow out of. Samson lay next to the baby,
panting. Immediately after her birth, the little dog had
staked his claim. Territorial to the extreme, he was
incredibly defensive of Marisa, even to the point of running
to her side and growling at Ian when her father dared raise
his voice for some obscure reason. But, then again, Samson
had never really liked Ian, if only because he knew Ian
didn't like 'little yappy dogs'. Delilah, on the other hand,
loved Ian to death, despite his apparent distaste (Sara had
caught him taking baby talk to the little Pekinese more than
once, though). The only things Delilah didn't like were
Grizz and Ricky, Ian's dogs; she felt she had to defend her
Samson from them and all other big dogs.

The grumble of thunder brought her attention to the west
again. The cloud was big and dark, holding the promise of
rain. Ian also looked at the cloud, then glanced out toward
the fields behind the yard where their three horses grazed.
Unlike the grass in the yard, the pasture was brown and bone
dry. They had started adding hay to the horses' diets
because they weren't getting enough nutrition from the dying
grass. Hay cost money, especially in the dry years.

"Think it'll rain?" Sara asked him.

"Let's just say that if that thing goes by without dumping
something other than a buttload of lightning, I'll be ready
to hire WhiteEagle to do that rain dance after all."

Sara grimaced at the thought of hiring the town drunk, a
former Lakota medicine man who had been kicked out of the
tribe several years ago after raping the twelve-year-old
daughter of a local white rancher. He was always trying to
convince everyone he still had the power to communicate with
the spirits. No one believed him, and he had simply become a
nuisance for both Ian and Charlie Yellow Hawk, the Tribal
Chief of Police. The two were constantly 'tossing' him back
and forth. Because he lived on the Rez, Ian claimed he was
Charlie's responsibility, but because he was no longer a
part of the tribe, and conducted most of his dealings OFF
the Rez, Charlie believed he was the Sheriff's problem. The
two bickering law-enforcement officers had long ago become
the best of friends, despite the ongoing 'argument'.

With a suddenness that still startled her, even after three
years on the prairie, the wind changed direction and
temperature. Without any warning, it was cold. The big
cloud, which looked almost black now, had finally caught up
to the sun. Without a second thought, Sara reached over and
picked up Marisa, then got up from her grassy seat. Ian also
stood.

"Let's go, you guys," he said, directing his words at Fox,
but talking to them all, even the dogs. Fox immediately
stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "That may work on your
mother, kiddo, but not me. Come on." He picked the boy up
and swung him onto his hip. With the little dogs following,
they headed into the house. 

After depositing Marisa in the playpen in the middle of the
living room, Sara started closing all the west windows. The
wind was picking up, gusts rattling the eaves of the house.
The roar it produced as it traveled through the leaves of
the old trees surrounding the house resembled that of a
freight train. Both Sara and Ian knew what the chill in the
wind meant: Hail.

While tornadoes where thought to be the most deadly aspect
of any storm, they weren't that common here in Western South
Dakota. But lightning and hail could be just as deadly, and
every resident of the Northern Plains knew this and did not
take that danger for granted. Sara, arms folded, walked to
the window above the kitchen sink, watching the storm move
in. She had learned to love these storms, but she still
feared them, as well. The winds could easily reach well over
70 MPH, and the lightning flashed constantly. The hail that
often fell sometimes reached the size of a softball, though
most often the chunks of ice were the size of marbles or
smaller. They could easily kill small animals if those
animals didn't find shelter. Grizz and Ricky, she knew,
would find safety under the roof of the front porch. Solomon
and Sassy, however...

"Ian, have you seen the cats?" She turned to look at her
husband, who had turned on the scanner and was listening to
the broadcast from the National Weather Service. The storm
almost upon them was indeed severe. Golf ball size hail had
been reported in Wall, 60 miles to the northwest.

"Sassy was sleeping in Fox's room, last I saw. I haven't
seen Solomon all day." Ian didn't share the same dislike for
cats that he did for small dogs; he had never really had
anything to do with them before they had adopted to two
older cats from the shelter in Rapid. Sassy was a
tortoiseshell Persian who loved to cuddle more than
anything. Solomon was a big tuxedo tom, whose attitude
matched Mulder's perfectly: He, too, loved to be
cuddled...but only when HE wanted to. His claws were used
frequently, but when Sara had once suggested getting him
declawed, Ian had been adamantly against it. Sara and
Solomon got along worse than Ian and Samson did.

A loud 'meow' sounded from the direction of the front of the
house. Sara entered the living room just in time to see a
big black and white shape jump up and attach itself to the
metal screen on the front door. "Solomon!" she shouted,
walking quickly for the door. The cat, knowing his front
feet were at risk of being swatted, jumped down. Sara opened
the door and he strolled in, tail high, as if he ruled the
house. Samson growled at him; he knew who the REAL king was.

The storm hit at about 4:45 in the afternoon. It lasted for
about 25 minutes before moving on farther southeast. It left
behind several wet leaves coating  the ground, which was
dotted with white drifts of pea-sized hail. The storm drains
still poured out gallons of water, though the rain had
stopped, and puddles of water lined the gardens. Two large
branches from a couple of the cottonwoods lay in the middle
of the yard. Just the typical aftermath from a typical
storm. It could have been much worse.

With thunder continuing to rumble in the distance, Scully
began to make dinner. Though Ian did his share of the
cooking, they both knew she was the better cook. Whenever
she cooked, he cleaned up afterwards, and vice versa.
Equality was something that was rarely argued in this
family. Ian had gone out to check the horses and to pull the
fallen branches up closer to the house. He would later cut
them down and add the pieces to the woodpile.

Sara was just getting biscuits in the oven when the phone
rang. She dreaded picking it up, knowing the only calls they
would get this late on a Sunday after a storm would be
either from the Sheriffs office or her clinic. Surprisingly,
it was from neither.

"Sara?" a familiar voice said when she answered. "It's
Charlie. Is Ian there?"

"Yeah. Hold on." She placed the receiver on the counter and
went to the sliding door that lead to the back porch. "Ian!"
she called out to her husband. "Charlie's on the phone."

With a furrowed brow, Ian entered the house and took up the
phone. "Hey! What's up?"

"Sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I wanted to get to you
as soon as possible before the morning." The Lakota police
chief paused.

"Charlie?"

"Something weird is going on, Ian, and I need your help to
figure it out."

Ian sat down at the dinning room table, glancing through the
door to the living room, where both of his children played.
"Okay. I'm listening."

Charlie sighed. "It's a long story, but I better start at
the beginning. It's about an eagle."

"An eagle?" Ian felt his frown deepen.

"Yeah. This is how it started......"

************************************************************

"If people knew the true price of spirituality, there'd be
more atheists."

Episode 2x20-Humbug

*****

Ian repeated the whole story to his wife that night after
the kids had gone to sleep. 

The night was cool after the afternoon's storm, and the
couple sat on the back porch listening to the crickets chirp
away. More lightning was visible in the south, but the storm
was too far away to hear any thunder. Solomon lay on the
railing in front of them and Sassy lay in Sara's lap. All
four dogs were scattered around the area as well, enjoying
the coolness of the night.

"Boy, when God decides to end the drought, he really ends
it, doesn't he?" Sara's question was rhetorical, and Ian
knew she didn't expect an answer, but her voice breaking the
stillness of the night was all he needed to start talking.

"Charlie has been suspecting that someone in the area has
been catching eagles and selling them to people on the Rez.
He finally found out the other day that WhiteEagle has been
paying a couple of down-on-their-luck ranchers to catch them
for him. They are all going to Federal court next month."

Sara nodded her head. Eagles, like all bird of prey, were
protected by law. It was illegal to catch, kill or own any
raptors without a Federal permit; even owning a feather from
many of these birds was outlawed. Only certain Native
American tribes were allowed to own the feathers, which were
used in many ceremonies and were considered sacred. But even
Indians were not allowed to own the birds, or kill them
specifically for the feathers.

"Who's buying them?" she asked, knowing that whoever was
acquiring the birds from WhiteEagle was just as guilty as
the old Indian. 

"Kids, mostly. I guess it's the new fad on the Rez, owning
an eagle. Like owning a Pit Bull is to a kid in the
projects, I suppose." He stopped for a second when Solomon
jumped down from his perch and headed his way with a gleam
in his yellow eyes. He waited as the cat jumped into his lap
and demanded attention. He started to pet the cat as he
continued on. "Most of the birds have been accounted for,
twelve in all, and they've been taken to Reptile Gardens for
a health check." Reptile Gardens ran the closest rehab
center for wild birds. "Once they're cleared of any injury
or sickness, they'll be re-released."

Sara waited a while for him to continue, and when he didn't
she asked, "And?"

"And something weird happened yesterday," Ian continued.
"Alicia Chase called Charlie and asked him to make sure all
the birds were kept in custody until further notice." Alicia
Chase was one three F.B.I. agents assigned to Rapid City.
The Zweifel's tried to have as little contact with her or
her fellow agents as possible. "It appears a couple of
'officials' from Washington are flying down tomorrow to look
at the birds."

Sara's brow furrowed. "Why? Officials from what office?"

"Alicia didn't say. But Charlie, who was helping unload the
birds at the Gardens, noticed something very odd."

Again, Sara waited through one of his dramatic pauses,
finally nudging him instead of saying anything when he
didn't continue.

"He said that one of the eagles acts different. It's an
older female. She seems set off from the others, distant.
And when she saw Charlie, she flew over to him as if she
wanted to talk to him. She didn't act wild at all. It's like
she was asking him for help." Solomon took a swipe at Ian
when the cat felt like he wasn't getting the man's full
attention. Without hesitation, Ian shoved the cat off his
lap. With a sniff, the tom walked off, his tail in the air.
"Charlie is almost positive these 'officials' are coming for
this particular eagle."

"What makes him think that?" Sara asked.

"Well, the government issue leg band was one clue. When they
caught her up to examine her, they got a close look at it.
It read 'FMRC-1992'."

Sara's breath caught in her throat. "FMRC? Fort Marlene
Research Center?"

Ian nodded. "That's my guess."

"Does Charlie know what that stands for?"

Ian shook his head. "No. He just recognized the style of the
band. Federal."

Sara sighed. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm driving out to Rapid with Charlie tomorrow to take a
look at this bird. If she did indeed come from there, we
can't let these 'officials' get a hold of her."

Sara felt a wave of sadness rise up inside of her. "I can't
believe I'm going to say this, but can't you just stay out
of it? One of these days, Chase is going to recognize you.
And what if one of these officials is someone we used to
know?"

She looked over at her husband, her plea echoing in the
night air. He turned his eyes on her. Even in the dark, she
recognized the look he gave her. It was one she hadn't seen
in years. And while she realized she had missed it, she had
also hoped to never see it again.

"You can't, can you?" she whispered. "You could never turn
down a good X File."

************************************************************

"Open yourself up to extreme possibilities only when they're
the truth."

Episode1x12-Beyond the Sea

*****

Wambli was becoming extremely worried.

For two weeks now, she had been a captive. While that was
worrisome enough, she had managed to keep her cool and wait
patiently for a chance to escape. Then the cops had shown
up, along with several tribal members who had taken her to
the city at the base of Paha Sapa along with several others
of her kind. She had been forcefully examined by the workers
of the facility, but she had been treated well. She had been
released into a large flight cage with the others and fed
fresh rabbit. Slightly underweight from her experience, she
was still in better shape than many of the others.
Apparently, the young man who had acquired her from the old
man, WhiteEagle, had at least known what to feed her.

She had been content to wait out what she believed to be
temporary captivity, although she had made a small attempt
to communicate with the Indian cop. He looked trustworthy.
Maybe she could make him understand her. She thought she had
gotten her message across when one of the women who worked
at the Rehab Center asked him about the 'officials' coming
to see the eagles. Wambli had become worried then. 

She spent a tiresome night pacing the ground of the
enclosure, which, though large enough for a couple of
full-grown eagles, was tiny when filled with twelve of them.
She looked for a weak spot in the wall all night; someplace
she could squeeze her large body through. There was no way
out. Morning came. Breakfast, too. But she wasn't hungry and
sat perched in a corner, watching the outside world through
the chicken wire and wooden slats that formed the cage.
Around 9 in the morning, the cop showed up with another man.
She eyed them both warily.

The cop was, at first glance, a typical Lakota. Tall, rangy,
his long black hair pulled into a tight braid that fell down
the center of his back. His eyes were onyx, and very
intelligent. His face was pockmarked, but still handsome. He
exhibited the wear and tear of growing up poor on an Indian
reservation while still maintaining the dignity and power of
his ancestors. He would have been a great warrior had he
lived two-hundred years ago.

The man next to him was just as tall, and almost as rangy,
but that was where the similarities ended. The other man
wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled
up to his elbows, and like his companion, he wore a badge.
Another cop then. She didn't know whether this was good or
bad. The man was a wasichu, a white man, and they were far
less open to extreme possibilities than the Lakota.

"Which one is it?" the wasichu asked.

The Indian looked around the enclosure. "I'm not sure. One
of the bigger ones. Maybe she'll come over again."

Wambli began to preen, ignoring them. She wasn't about to
give herself away with the wasichu present.

"Wambli. Yau' kta he?"

Her head shot up upon hearing the name she had given herself
years ago, but she immediately stilled as she remembered
what the word 'Wambli' meant in Lakota: Eagle. He was simply
addressing her in the respectful way of his people, asking
her to come over. She continued preening, keeping her eye on
the two men. 

They were standing with their heads close together, speaking
softly. She could hear their voices, but she didn't
understand the words clearly, despite her advanced hearing
ability. She heard the words 'catch up' and 'legband' and
she knew they were debating whether or not to have the
facility personal catch up the birds one by one to check
their leg bands. She knew they would have a hard time
convincing the Center staff to do this, as it was their
policy to have as little contact with the birds as possible
after the initial check up. 

The wasichu moved closer and began peering intently into the
cage, eyeing the birds carefully. When his green-gold gaze
landed on her, she stilled. Why did she get the sudden
feeling he would recognize her for what she really was? He
watched her carefully, then stepped back away from the wire.
Though his eyes never left her, he spoke to the man next to
him. "We can't let these people get hold of her." His voice
was low, but clear.

"Why? What do you know about this place?"

"Enough." The wasichu sighed. "Enough to know that if this
eagle truly did come from that facility, then she is
special. Different. Possibly genetically altered in some
way."

"How the hell do you know that?" The Indian shook his head.
"Never mind. Forget I asked. I always knew you were a
strange fellow with some kind of weird past, but maybe it's
best I don't know anything about it, huh?"

The wasichu smiled, and Wambli felt a human-like flutter in
her heart. "You got that right," he told his companion.

Without anymore thought, Wambli boosted herself off her
perch and hopped/flew over to a branch closer to the two
men. They looked startled for a second, then the Indian
whispered, "That's her."

The wasicu nodded. "I think I already knew that." He stepped
closer, his eyes wary. "What are you?" he asked. 

Wambli fluffed her feathers out in frustration. How could
she communicate with this man? How could she tell them what
she was? Maybe she should have kept to herself until they
let her go again. But the 'officials' were on their way, and
she could not...would not...go back to Maryland. She would
die first. But how did she tell these people that?

"Can you communicate with us?" the man asked.

The Indian mumbled, "I don't believe this."

"Hey. Your people are the ones who think eagles are sacred,"
the wasichu said with a grin. "All animals have their own 
way of communicating."

"Yeah, but you're talking to her like she was human," the
Indian argued.

Wasichu smiled and looked back at her. "Say something to 
her in Lakota, like you did earlier."

"Huh! I may be Lakota, but I don't speak it fluently!" 

"Something. Anything."

The Indian sighed. "Uh...Kola, ito' anagopta yeto'!" Now
listen for a minute, friend. "Uh...Lel uku'pi ki he
washte'." It is good for us to be here.

Wambli felt like smiling; his Lakota was mangled, but it was
understandable. How could she tell them she understood
English just as well. She shook her head, fluffing the gold
feathers there, then arched her neck downward, opened her
mouth and let out a low squeal. The wasichu moved up to 
stand close to her. 

"I think she can understand, she just can't respond in a way
we understand." He looked her directly in the eye. "Right?" 

Wambli opened her mouth again and cackled, nodding her head.

"Holy Mother of God," the Indian whispered.

The wasichu smiled. "I think I know who we can get to help
us."

"Who? Someone who speaks eagle?" The Indian was definitely
being sarcastic.

The wasichu turned toward him. "Yeah."

The Indian shook his head. "Man, you are spooky."

The wasichu's only response was to laugh.

*****

End 2/18

Wambli-Part 3/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"No matter how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid
enough."

Episode 5x01-Unusual Suspects

*****

Reptile Gardens/Black Hills Raptor Rehabilitation Center
Rapid City, South Dakota

Sheriff Ian Zweifel was standing in one of the back offices
of the Reptile Gardens with his cell phone pressed tightly
to his ear when Alicia Chase walked in. Of moderate height
and slender build, the blonde didn't look like an F.B.I.
agent, but he knew she was a good one. She had also only
been in the Bureau for three years, therefore she had no
reason to recognize him or his wife. She gave him a curious
glance, then proceeded to talk with Charlie, who was waiting
by the door.

"Lincoln Medical Clinic," a voice spoke in his ear. "This is
Carrie speaking. How may I help you?" 

"Hey, Carrie. Is Sara there?"

"Yeah, Sheriff. Hold on."

He stood and waited as the Musac played over the phone. The
Medical Clinic was moderately large considering it was
located in such a small town, but it served many ranchers in
the area, as well as many people from the reservation. Dr.
Al Rosenberg started the clinic years ago with his wife and
fellow doctor Michelle. They ran the General Practice side
of the clinic while Sara handled most of the pediatrics. She
loved the older couple and she loved her job. It was what
she should have been doing years ago instead of following
him to hell and back over and over again.

The Musac disappeared and her voice came over the line.
"Hi." It was obvious by the happiness in her voice that
Carrie had told her who was on the line.

"Hey, Babe," he responded softly. He never would have
guessed an endearment such as 'babe' would ever be in his
vocabulary, but he spoke it without thinking these days.

"What's going on? Did you find your eagle?"

"Yeah," he responded. "And she is definitely unique. It's
like she wants to communicate, but can't." He kept his voice
low so Chase wouldn't hear him. "I was wondering if Moira
would have any luck."

Sara was silent for a while. Moira Anderson was an old
friend of theirs from Spokane, Washington, who had the
special ability to transfer her consciousness into that of
animals, thinking what they think, feeling what they feel.
Ian hoped she would be able to communicate with Marlene, the
name he had given the eagle in his mind.

"I don't know, Ian. If this bird has a sentient mind like a
human, Moira might not be able to touch it. She still can't
enter human minds without becoming overwhelmed."

"It's worth a shot, isn't it? Come on, Scu-" he stopped
himself before he forgot who he was talking to and where.
"Sara. She's probably in need of a vacation, anyway."

Though Moira had been one of the mourners at 'their' funeral
five years ago, Sara had made contact with her a few months
later when she and Ian had returned to the U.S. after
toodling around the Pacific Islands. One of the few people
Sara trusted absolutely, the young horse trainer had kept
regular, but careful, touch since then.

Ian heard the familiar sigh of resignation from his wife,
the one that made him feel victorious and guilty at the same
time. "Okay. I'll call her, see if she can come down."

"Thanks," Ian told her. "Look, Chase is here right now.
Maybe I can find out when these 'officials' are supposed to
get here."

"What if it's soon?"

He sighed. "Then we'll have to think of something to keep
Marlene here."

"Marlene?" Sara's voice was dry. 

He knew he didn't have to explain. With a laugh, he said
goodbye, waited for her amused farewell, and hung up. Then
he turned to Charlie and Special Agent Chase.

"Sheriff," she nodded to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Ian said smoothly, "some of these eagles were
recovered in my county, and most of them were captured
there. Now, I know this is a Federal case, but I feel I
should have some say in the matter."

"Some say?" She raised her eyebrows. "Meaning?"

"I heard some government types were heading out here to look
at them...at one in particular. What is that all about?"

Chase's cool demeanor cracked a bit. "I'm not sure exactly.
From what I understand, one of the eagles we recovered was
used in a research program, to test insecticides or
something like that. I guess she got away and they're afraid
she may cause some kind of problem. I got the idea that she
was a livestock killer and they didn't want her on the range
anymore."

Ian nodded. "Hmmm. And Game, Fish and Parks can't handle
her? They have to send someone from D.C. to take care of
it?"

Chase shrugged. "Hey. I'm just following orders here."

Ian met her light brown eyes with his own. "Some orders
should be questioned, Agent Chase. If you don't know that by
now, you'll never become a top agent. You'll be stuck out
here in the boonies forever."

Chase opened her mouth, about to argue, when Charlie
interrupted. "When are these people coming?"

With one last glare at Ian, Alicia turned to Charlie. "They
said they'd be here early this evening."

Ian let his eyes meet Charlie's over the top of Alicia's
head. He knew Charlie was thinking the same thing he was;
they could not let the people coming tonight have that bird.
Charlie didn't know why. And Ian knew he would have to
explain it to him. But not yet. Right now, they needed to
get her out of here.

Hiding a smirk, Ian left the office. He was about to commit
a crime, a federal offense. He was about to steal an eagle.

************************************************************

"Exactly what agency are you guys from? (Silence) Obviously
not the office of information!"

Episode 5x18-The Pine Bluff Variant

*****

Lincoln, South Dakota
Downtown

It was after 6 o'clock when Sara was finally able to leave
the clinic. The last one to go, she locked up the door
behind her and headed for her car, which was parked a short
way down the street. As she walked, she noticed all the cars
parked in front of the Sheriff's office, which was only
three blocks away. All three county vehicles, as well as
Charlie's pickup and several other cars sat in the angled
parking spaces in front of the building. Curiosity and
concern warred in her heart as she passed her own car and
continued down the street. She could pick up the kids at
Susan's later.

As she walked into the building, she passed Tricia, the
county dispatcher/secretary/mother hen, who was on her way
out; the office officially closed at six. The tall,
dark-haired woman rolled her eyes at Sara as she slipped by
her. She seemed anxious to leave. With trepidation, Sara
continued on past the dispatcher's station and toward the
door to Ian's office. She could hear the arguing coming from
inside long before she neared the room. Carefully, she
walked up to the open door.

Alicia Chase and Nick Remington, both local F.B.I. agents,
were arguing with Charlie. Two other official looking men
stood off to the side, quietly watching the by-play between
the agents and the Indian cop. Ian sat at his desk, feet up,
and amused expression on his face, munching on sunflower
seeds. He smiled when he saw her in the doorway. She glanced
at the suited men in the corner, and looked back at her
husband, a question in her eyes. He nodded his head ever so
slightly, but his smile dissapeared. His unspoken 'okay'
allowed her to relax somewhat, and she entered the room. All
talk halted.

"What is going on?!" she demanded, her eyes searching the
room. Charlie she knew well, and Chase she had met a couple
of times. But Remington she had only seen from a distance.
She felt a chill move up her spine as the older agent's eyes
narrowed at her entrance. Did he recognize her? She took a
deep breath and looked at Ian. "Would you like to explain
who these people are?" She gestured toward the stoic men in
the corner.

With a sigh of his own, Ian introduced her. "Gentlemen, this
is my wife, Dr. Sara Zweifel. Sara, these men are with the
Department of Agriculture. Agents Cronin and Breker." He
nodded to the F.B.I. agents. "I believe you've met Agent
Chase. Her companion is Special Agent Nick Remington."

"Do you always stick your nose into your husband's business,
Dr. Zweifel?" Remington asked.

Sara was stunned by his rude question...but only for a
moment. "Only on nights we had plans to meet for dinner and
I find several people in his office fighting," she coolly
replied. She felt a presence behind her and turned to find
Lucas LittleElk and Sam Lang, Ian's deputies, entering the
office.

"Sara," Lucas nodded toward her. "We heard the arguing too,
sir," he directed his attention toward Ian. "Is everything
okay?"

"Oh, everything is fine." Ian still gave the appearance of a
man at ease, but Sara knew her husband too well; he was as
tense as a bowstring. He looked at her. "You know those
eagles that we recovered?" She nodded. "One of them was
stolen earlier today." He smiled slightly. "Ironically, it
was the one these men came here to collect." He nodded
toward Cronin and Breker.

Sara felt her eyebrows shoot up. 'Oh, Mulder,' she thought
to herself. "Any idea who took it?" she asked carefully.

Remington answered for her husband. "We have reason to
believe it was a couple of kids from the Rez."

Sara looked at him, meeting his eyes though she was still
nervous about his presence. "And you're yelling at Charlie
because...what? He's from the Rez, too?"

"Sara..." Even Charlie recognized the venom in her voice
and tried to step in to avoid anymore arguing.

"No, Charlie. I'm talking to Agent Remington." She continued
to hold the man's gaze steadily. "Well?"

The agent sighed. "We think that Chief Yellow Hawk may know
how it happened. After all, both he and your husband were at
the facility where the eagles were being held most of the
day. The bird was taken in broad daylight during the middle
of a moderately busy tourist day on the grounds of a popular
zoo."

Ian interrupted. "The birds are kept far from any of the
exhibits and shows, Agent Remington. It wouldn't have been
difficult for anyone who knew the place to slip in when all
the shows and most of the people were on the other side of
the grounds. Even the bird staff isn't always around; they
have to take care of the exhibits and such." He paused. "And
Agent Chase can confirm that both myself and Charlie were in
the office most of the day."

Alicia nodded. "They were. And he's right. Anyone could have
slipped in and taken the bird without being seen. The only
question I have is how did they manage to catch that
particular bird without a ruckus? They were all wild birds."

"This particular bird used to be in captivity, though," Ian
argued. He looked at the Ag officials. "Isn't that so? For
all we know she'd been trained to the glove and came
willingly."

One of the men, Cronin, Sara thought, spoke up. "Even if
that was the case, how would these kids have known that
particular bird was the tame one?" His dark eyes roamed the
room. Ag Department official, my ass, Sara thought. "Unless
someone told them. Someone who knew." His gaze landed on
Ian.

The sheriff just shrugged. "I don't pretend to know anything
about Golden Eagles or any other kind of bird outside of
what I learned from the Bird Department staff this morning."
He suddenly pulled his feet off the desk and stood. "Now, if
you'll all excuse me, gentlemen, Alicia. I'd like to have
dinner with my wife as planned. If you'd like to press
charges on a couple of Indian boys...or Charlie...or
me...you can wait until tomorrow."

Sara stepped aside as everyone in the office began to slowly
move outward. The Ag agents were grumbling amongst
themselves. Remington looked PO'd. Chase looked worried. The
deputies and Charlie looked triumphant. Sara knew they would
all follow Ian to hell and back if he asked them to, and any
victory, however small, over the Federal Government was
something to be savored. Leaving Lucas at the dispatch desk,
they all vacated the building and went their separate ways.

Ian watched them for a moment, then grasped Sara's arm
lightly and led her down the street. "Let's walk," he said.
Lincoln was small enough that walking from one end of town
to the next was barely any effort at all. They headed toward
Susan Norton's house, where Fox and Marisa went to daycare
during the weekdays.

They walked silently for a while. Sara was the first to
break that silence. "How well do you know Remington?"

"He doesn't recognize us, if that's what you're worried
about. If he had, he would have done something by now." Ian
brought his arm up to lay it over her shoulders. Public
displays of affection had become more numerous for every
year they were married.

"Is Moira coming?" he asked after another silence.

"Tomorrow. She was pretty excited and agreed with your
opinion of her needing a vacation."

Ian smiled. "Good."

"Of course," Sara continued. "I don't know how she can help
if the eagle she was supposed to communicate with is gone."
There was a tiny bit of question in her statement.

When he didn't reply, she looked at him. "Mulder," she said,
her voice hard.

"Shhh!" He looked around them and squeezed her shoulders.
"Billy Moran used to work at Reptile Gardens. I called him
up and he and a friend of his agreed to help us."

"Billy Moran?" She shook her head. "And they think it was a
kid from the Reservation?"

"They think it's Caleb Running Bull. He was the one who
bought Marlene from WhiteEagle. The poor kid's gonna be
upset at being accused, but I know he has a good alibi, so
they shouldn't be able to make anything stick. Not to
mention the fact that he doesn't have the eagle."

"You realize you just committed a federal crime, don't you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Sara couldn't help smiling. "Now what?"

"Now we wait for Moira and find out what Marlene has to
say."

************************************************************

"The government knows about it, you know. They're in on it
sometimes, right there in the room when they come. They work
together."

Episode 2x05-Duane Barry

*****

Highway 44 West
Heading into Rapid City

Nick Remington's jaw, which had been clenched for the last
three hours, was finally starting to relax as he and Chase
neared Rapid. His headache, he was sure, would go on for a
while yet. He loosened his sweaty grip on the steering wheel
and glanced at the woman next to him. 

Alicia sat staring out the passenger side window at the
barren plains around them. Having grown up in Chicago, he
knew she hadn't been too thrilled to be assigned to such a
small city. It hadn't helped that she had first arrived
during the winter. She was used to the cold, but not the
desolation. And the lack of serious crime. Most of their
cases consisted of assaults, rapes, and the occasional
murder on the Indian reservations in Western South Dakota.
The rare bank robbery popped up on occasion, and white
collar crime was becoming more prevalent in Rapid, but it
was pretty boring overall. He loved it here. But he had been
born in Eastern Wyoming, and the people and the land were
similar.

Now this had happened. A stolen eagle. That in itself wasn't
a big deal, but the fact that D.C. had sent other agents
bugged him. He didn't trust the so-called Ag agents. And he
didn't trust Sheriff Zweifel. He never had. Something was
going on with the 'officials' and that eagle, and Remington
was certain both Zweifel and Yellow Hawk knew something
about it. It didn't mater that they seemed to be at odds.
What bothered him was being kept out of the loop in his
territory. 

What did the Agricultural Department want with an eagle? Why
that particular eagle? Why were a Indian police chief and a
small town sheriff concerned with the matter? And why did
that sheriff's wife look familiar?

He had seen Sara Zweifel from a distance a couple of times
before, but he had never seen her up close or heard her
speak. But the minute she had stormed into the office today,
he had felt a tug of recognition. He could not for the life
of him recall where he knew her from.

"So what do you think is up with that eagle?"

Alicia's voice startled him out of his contemplation. He
shrugged. "Hell, I don't care about the eagle. I just know
something fishy is going on and Zweifel is somehow behind
it."

"What makes you think that?"

"Come on, Chase. He's the only one who is not supposed to be
involved, yet he's up to his neck in whatever is going on."

Alicia didn't argue. "But what would a small town sheriff
have to do with government tests on an eagle?"

"Maybe he's an animal rights activist?" Remington was
positive this wasn't the case, but he knew they had to
consider ever aspect. "Maybe when he heard where that bird
came from and where it was going to, he flipped."

Alicia let out an inelegant snort. "This guy lives side by
side with cattle ranchers. Half of his 'buddies' hunt and
fish. I bet he eats his steak rare." She looked over at him.
"If he's an activist, I'll eat my brand new leather jacket."

Remington couldn't help but smile. God, he loved this woman.
Too bad she'd never know. "Obviously, your not an activist,
either, Miss Leather Jacket."

Alicia didn't respond right away. "I heard one of the girls
at the Gardens say that they thought the eagle that was
stolen was smarter than normal. That the Indian cop was
trying to talk to it."

Remington's eyebrows shot up dramatically. "I know the
Lakota consider the eagle sacred, but I've never seen them
try to talk directly to one." He shook his head. "What a
mess. I've got a friend in D.C. who might be able to help
us. She and her partner have been complaining that things
are a little slow in their department. Maybe they'll want to
come out here and poke around."

"Yeah. We are so busy, it's not like we can work on this
ourselves!" The sarcasm in Alicia's voice was unmistakable.

He laughed. "Zweifel's not gonna talk to us. He knows us. If
we can put some outside pressure on them, maybe it'll help."
He paused. "Besides, smart, talking eagles are right up her
ally."

"Why? What department does she work for?"

"You've probably never heard of it. It's been around for
years, but isn't as infamous as it once was." He sighed and
let his gaze fall on the dark shape of the Black Hills
slowly growing bigger in the distance. "It's called the X
Files."

*****

End 3/18

Wambli-Part 4/18
Summary and Disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Ooh, walk on the wild side."

Episode 5x20-The End

*****

Wambli was waiting. 

About an hour after the two cops had left her, two young men
had appeared. One had been carrying a long, leather glove
that came to his elbow and several pieces of leather that
Wambli recognized. He had slipped the glove on his left arm,
entered the flight cage, and held it out like a perch.
Wambli had watched him with amusement at first, but then she
had heard what the man was saying to his companion, who
waited outside.

"The Sheriff said that he thought she might be trained. If
not, we'll have to catch her up."

"Which one is she?" the other one asked. 

"I'm not sure. I was hoping that she would see the glove and
connect it with food and just come over." He had paused,
then whispered to himself, "this is crazy." In a louder
voice, he spoke toward the eagles, all who had become
nervous at his entrance. "Come on, girl. We want to get you
out of here and safe." He didn't speak as if he thought one
of the birds would understand; he simply spoke in a manner
that animal handlers have for ages, with a calm voice and a
steady manner.

Wambli realized that the sheriff he had spoken of must have
been the wasichu, and that these men wanted to help her.

The man outside the cage had begun to shift his weight back
and forth on his feet, nervously mumbling to himself. "Come
on, Billy! Before someone shows up!"

The man called Billy had sighed and looked to put his arm
down. Taking a giant leap of faith, Wambli had hopped down
from her perch in the corner and landed lightly on the
glove. Billy's eyes had widened almost comically, but he
wasn't afraid. With careful movements, he had snapped two
leather straps around her ankles, and attached those straps
to a longer rope. These temporary anklets would keep her
from flying off as he carried her out. She had worn more
permanent ones years ago. Slowly, Billy had taken her out of
the cage and walked with her to a van that had been backed
up behind the building holding the parrots and other show
birds. They had tied her inside on a perch, and driven away.

Now, two days later, Wambli was starting to get frustrated.
The temporary anklets had been removed and exchanged with
more permanent ones. Attached to these soft leather binders
were removable jesses, straps of leather that fit into the
grommet of the anklets and allowed her to move about freely,
though she was kept tied on a long leash to a comfortable
perch. She had been fed and had a pan of water to soak in if
she so desired, but she was still a captive.

She knew with a little work she could untie herself and fly
off, worrying about removing the anklets later, but she was
waiting for the wasicu. Why he hadn't appeared yet, she did
not know. 

That evening, he finally appeared. Only, he wasn't alone.

The Indian cop was with him again, as were two women. Both
were small, especially seen next to the two tall men. The
younger one was a bit taller, around 5'5", her long blonde
hair flowing down her back. The shorter one also wore her
long hair down, but it was a fiery red in color. They both
kept back as the men approached her.

"Hello, Marlene," Wasichu said with a smile. At first, 
Wambli had no idea who he was talking to. But as he 
continued to stare at her, as if he expected a response, 
the meaning of the name 'Marlene' became clear. She 
shook her head and stiffened the muscles that caused 
her head feathers to rise, giving herself the appearance 
of a much larger head. With her mouth open, she cackled. 
It was as close as she could come to a laugh.

The blonde girl came forward then, and both Wasichu and the
cop stood back. Wambli let her feathers flatten as she made
eye contact with the young woman. The woman didn't speak,
and after a while, she closed her eyes.

Wambli felt confusion fill her for a moment, then something
else indescribable grabbed her attention. She felt it come
upon her slowly, the feeling of not being alone. A sense of
wonderment and fear combined to make her nervous, but she
sat still, watching the woman as she fell into a trance.
With sudden clarity, she realized the woman was in her mind.
At first, Wambli tried to fight against her, feeling as if
her head was being invaded in the worst of ways. But she
felt more than heard the woman speak to her in her head,
comforting her, telling her there was nothing to fear. With
a deep breath, Wambli opened her mind and allowed the witch
woman inside.

************************************************************

"Her name is Bambi?"

"Both of her parents were naturalists."

Pause. "Her name is Bambi?"

Episode 3x12-War of the Copraphages

*****

"It was absolutely incredible!" Moira gushed later that
evening. She had come back to the house with Ian and Sara
after meeting with Wambli, and she could not stop talking
about it. "It was like being in the mind of an eagle, but
she thinks like a human!"

"How, exactly?" Sara pressed. Though her friend hadn't
stopped speaking of the experience, she hadn't given them
much detail, either.

"It's hard to explain," Moira said. "She 'spoke' more in
shapes and visions, like other birds, but they made more
sense. It's like...well. In a normal bird, and in most
animals, I just feel what they feel and see what they see.
But in the smarter animals, I can actually view memories.
Like in some dogs, and parrots, or in the dolphins at Sea
World. They think more like us than other animals,
therefore, they remember details better. But it's like
viewing a slide show without any description of the pictures
I'm seeing; I don't know where or when the images happened.
With Wambli, I get almost a running commentary on what I'm
seeing. I can hear her, and yet I hear no words." She shook
her head. "I can't explain it! It's something you have to
experience to understand, I guess."

Ian nodded. He was sitting on the sofa next to Charlie, who
sat with an astounded look on his face. Moira sat across
from them in the rocking chair, and Sara walked the floor,
trying to get the overactive Marisa to slow down for bed.
Like her brother, who sat on the floor playing with his toy
airplanes, Marisa was feeling the high that Moira's
excitement had brought into the house. Sara was afraid that
it would be a long while before either of the children were
ready for sleep.

"What did you find out?" Ian asked quietly, his voice
holding the same undercurrent of excitement Moira's had. 

"This Fort Marlene you mentioned?" Ian nodded. "She was
there for almost 10 years, but she wasn't born there. From
what I could gather, she was captured here in South Dakota
when she was barely a year old, along with several other
raptors. They all died during the experiments; she was the
only one to survive."

"Experiments?" Charlie spoke up.

Moira nodded. "They were doing some kind of genetic tests on
her and the others. Introducing some kind of DNA. It made
them smarter." She smiled. "Kind of like in 'The Secret of
Nihm'. You know that movie? The one with the rats and mice
that got smart?" She recieved blank looks from both men.
"Anyway, she got away almost ten years ago, and she came
back here. Unfortunately, the band on her leg is metal, so
she couldn't get it off. She also has an implant of some
sort, but it doesn't work anymore. If it did, they would
have found her by now."

Sara looked at her husband, who had turned to her upon
mention of the implant. She had one as well, and they both
knew that is was possible someone could find her by using
it. But, they had been promised by CGB Spender himself that
that would never happen. Ian leaned forward and looked at
Moira closely. "Does she want us to help her in any way? Or
does she just want us to let her go?"

Moira sighed. "She thinks that they'll manage to find her
anyway, even if we let her go. They know where she is now,
and that she's still alive. They'll start catching every
wild eagle they can in order to find her." She shrugged.
"But I don't think she thinks we can help her in any way."

Sara felt Ian's gaze on her again, but she wouldn't look up
to meet it. She heard him sigh. "When we go back tomorrow,
tell her we will try our best to help her."

"How?" Sara thought her voice sounded far too rough in her
ears. She still wouldn't look at him.

"We go in. Get as much information as we can. Then make a
deal." Like we did with our own lives. Sara heard the
unspoken sentence as clearly as she had the spoken words. 

She finally met his eyes with his own. "We?" 

She watched as his breath caught. She saw his eyes widen in
understanding. She stood still as his let his gaze fall to
the child in her arms, then over to the boy playing noisily
on the floor. Then his beautiful green gaze rose to meet
hers again. "We. Me and Charlie. Right, Charlie?" He turned
to the man next to him.

"Huh?" Charlie looked stunned. He had listened to Moira's
story, and he had also noticed the exchange between his two
friends. "Yeah. Sure."

With a sigh, Sara turned away. "I'm going to put Marisa to
bed." 

As she headed up the stairs, her heart heavy, she heard
Charlie demand of Ian, "You got some explaining to do, man!"
She smiled slightly, but the smile didn't last long. 

For five years, she had been living in heaven. But despite
the wonderful life she lived, there had always been an
underlying fear. Fear of discovery. Fear of losing what she
loved most dearly. Fear that her soul mate and best friend
would leave, not content with this sedate,
happily-ever-after life. And now it was happening. Adventure
was indeed calling him. But it wasn't calling her.

Once again, Fox Mulder was ditching her. Only this time, it
was with her blessing.

************************************************************

"Scully, I've been thinking - I know that's dangerous, but
just bear with me."

Episode 4x11-El Mundo Gira

*****

It was almost midnight before Charlie finally left the house
for his own home. Moira had taken a tiring Fox upstairs to
his mother well over an hour ago, then had come back down to
settle in the office, where they kept a hide-a-way bed, for
the night. Now, Ian set about locking up and checking that
all was well.

He wandered about the house, his eyes roaming the familiar
furniture and appliances. He looked at the little dogs, who
lay in their bed watching him with curious eyes, and the
cats, one who slept on the couch, the other perched on the
mantle of the fireplace. Without thought, he walked over and
started to stroke Solomon, who lay amidst the pictures on
display. His eyes scanned the framed images. Pictures of the
kids from the time they were born to the present; pictures
of himself and his wife, including one taken on Starbuck
Island almost five years ago at their wedding. A small
picture of Scully's mom and an even smaller one of his
sister Samantha. Their old life intermixed with their new.

With a sigh, he turned away and headed for the stairs.
Tomorrow, he would be leaving this haven of peace and
happiness. He was willingly heading into the unknown once
again. He felt anticipation and a hint of fear flow through
his blood. He loved his home, no doubt about it. And he
loved his family more than anything; but something inside
told him he needed to do this. He needed to help this
special creature who called herself 'Wambli'. He only hoped
his wife understood this.

Her response this evening hadn't been a surprise; she never
wanted to go back to the life they had lead before becoming
Ian and Sara. And she would do anything to keep her children
safe. But, it had still be somewhat of a shock when she
reminded him in her oh-so subtle way that she was not
participating in this adventure. His first thought had been
'how in the hell can I do this without her?' He trusted
Charlie, and knew he could get the Indian to help. But he
knew he would miss her presence the entire time.

He peeked in on both his kids, who were sleeping finally,
then entered his own room. She was still awake. She was
standing in front of the dresser mirror brushing her long
hair. She had on one of her night-shirts (all which had
started their life as one of his tee-shirts), and a pair of
socks, which made her look exceedingly cute. She seemed
thoughtful, off in her own world, as she brushed.

"Scully."

She jumped at his voice and turned to him, her expression
looking as startled as he felt. Her name, that name. It had
been years since he had used it in such a definitive way, as
if he was talking to his partner, not his wife. Her blue
eyes widened as she realized what it meant. He was no longer
Ian Zweifel. He was Fox Mulder.

She sighed and turned back to her brushing. He moved behind
her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Did you tell Charlie
everything?" she asked.

"Not everything."

Her eyes questioned him, but she didn't say anything and
continued brushing.

"I didn't tell him who you really were. No one needs to know
that."

She stopped and turned to face him, her mouth open in a
little 'oh' of surprise. "Mulder," she whispered.

He reached over and took the brush from her hands, setting
it on the dresser. Then he grasped her shoulders. "This is
your life now. No one needs to know any different."

She lowered her eyes and he could tell she was fighting back
tears. Though she had softened in recent years, it was still
rare to see her cry. "It's your life, too," she said softly. 

"What do you want me to do?" he questioned, squeezing her
shoulders gently. "Do you really want me to ignore what's
going on? Do you want me to just hand over this eagle to
those monsters? Because that's what they are, and we both
know it!"

"Mulder..." She stopped, unable to go on.

"What?! Come on! Yell at me! Tell me you hate me for doing
this! Tell me not to ever come back!"

She started laughing, but tears streamed down her face. "Is
that what you want?! To never come back?"

He pulled himself away from her. "Of course not!" he yelled.
"I just..." He sighed. "I love...Ian loves it here.
But..."

"But you're not Ian," she finished for him. 

He turned to face her, his eyes haunted. "It's like I just
woke up from a wonderful dream. And now I have to go back to
work."

She nodded. "Do you think you'll ever want to come back to
bed and dream some more?"

He moved back over to her and wrapped his arms around her
small form. "Without a doubt." Neither of them mentioned the
hope that he would be able to return. That he would be alive
to return. "They'll never even know it's me," he whispered.
"And I'll be back in no time."

She nodded again, but didn't say anything for a while. "I do
understand, you know. It's like an addiction. An addiction
to adrenaline."

"You are a stronger addiction," he said. "I'll always find
my way back to you."

She lifted her head off his chest and smiled at him.
"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise you'll not do this alone."

"Charlie-"

"Charlie doesn't know what he's in for, I'm sure. No matter
what you told him. Get the Gunmen to help, too. And Skinner
if you can."

"Do you have such little faith in my abilities?" His
expression was stern, but his voice was teasing.

She shook her head. "Are you kidding? Without me there to
watch your back, you're gonna need all the help you can
get."

He laughed, then lowered his head and took her lips with
his. No more words were spoken as he lead her to the bed.
Their bed. And one more night together.

When Marisa's fussing woke her in the morning, he was gone. 
 
************************************************************

"Why don't you file them under 'u' for unsolved?"

"I did...until I ran out of room."

Episode 5x15-Travelers

*****

Two miles northwest of Lincoln, SD

The rental car cruised along the highway at about 80, though
the speed limit was only 65. The woman at the wheel didn't
care if she got pulled over by the local sheriff, since that
very man was who she was here to see anyway. But the sooner
they got to Lincoln to see him and back home to the city,
the better. 

"How anyone can live out here..." She sighed. "Crazy. All
it is is wind and grass and in the winter wind and snow.
Ick."

"I don't know," her companion responded. "I kind of like
it."

Cat O'Neil looked at her partner in astonishment. He just
grinned at her, his blue eyes flashing. "Well that figures,"
she said. "We already know you're crazy. So I guess you
belong."

"Hey!" Justin Monroe was completely unaffected by her
censure; he just liked to pretend otherwise. After five
years of working together, the two of them knew each other
better than they knew themselves. "I resent that! Do you
know what these old ranchers would do to a guy like me?"

Cat couldn't help but smile. "I just don't know why Nick is
so certain there is something mysterious going on out here."

Monroe grunted in response and continued to read the file in
his lap. After a minute of quiet, he asked, "So, is Agent
Remington single?"

Cat bit the inside of  her cheek to keep from smiling again.
"Yes. He is. He's also straight, so keep you wandering eye
to yourself."

"He is, huh? And just how do you know this?"

For a moment, she was speechless. "Not because of what
you're thinking! He was my first partner after I got out of
the Academy, just before I was put on the X Files and he
came out here. He's like a second father to me."

"Father? Good god, Cat. He's not that old, is he?"

Instead of answering, she nodded her head toward the town
coming into view ahead of them. "There it is. Lincoln. Not
much to it."

They quickly found the Sheriff's station, which wasn't hard
seeing as it was located on Main Street, and parked in front
of the building. They went into the box-shaped, red brick
building, enjoying the cool air that was being pumped out of
the little air conditioner in the front window. A woman sat
behind the front desk, efficiently typing away on a
computer.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Cat pulled out her badge. "Hello. I'm Special Agent
Catherine O'Neil with the FBI." She nodded to Monroe. "This
is Special Agent Justin Monroe. We're here to see Sheriff
Zweifel. Is he in?"

"No, I'm sorry," the woman said with a frown. "He's out of
town on business." She glanced over to her left where an
Indian man was emerging from an office. "Deputy LittleElk is
in charge in his absence."

"Can I help you?" Cat was a tall woman, and rarely wore
heels because of this fact. But even in the low pumps she
was wearing today, this man towered over her. 

"Uh, well..." What the heck was wrong with her? Why
couldn't she think of something to say?

"We really need to speak to the Sheriff specifically,"
Justin said, moving to stand at her side. He had to look up,
too. But he wasn't nearly as intimidated as she was. Or was
it intimidation she was feeling? "Do you know how we might
get a hold of him?"

The deputy and the woman exchanged glances, then turned back
to face the agents. "He's away on private business. We don't
know how to reach him."

Cat found her tongue. "At all? Isn't that kind of odd?"

"Well..." The deputy looked at the woman again. "Sara?"

The woman shrugged.

Suddenly, the door behind them swung open and a little ball
of energy with dark hair flew through it and ran right into
Justin, falling smack onto his behind. "Whoa, partner!"
Justin reached down to set the little boy to rights. A tall,
dark haired woman came rushing in behind him, a baby girl in
her arms.

"Will you please slow down?" She sighed when she saw the boy
was okay. "I'm sorry, Tricia. We were out for a walk and he
wanted to see his father. He didn't believe me when I told
him Ian wasn't here."  She smiled at Cat and Justin.

The deputy went over to the little boy and squatted down to
his level. "Hey, Fox." Cat gave Justin a sharp look. "You're
dad's not here, remember? He's on a trip."

The little boy stuck out his full lower lip and whined,
"When's he comin' home?" Cat was startled by the boys
appearance. His hazel eyes, more green than brown, were very
familiar.
 
The deputy shrugged. "I don't know, cowboy. He just left
yesterday. Probably not for a while. Which means you're the
man of the house, now. Right?"

The little boy sniffed, wiped his nose, then nodded. "I
guess." 

"Your name is Fox?" Cat asked the little boy. "That's a neat
name. Kind of unusual, isn't it?" She directed her question
at the adults.

"Not around here," smiled the receptionist. "We're right
next to an Indian reservation, after all." She looked at the
little boy. "Maybe you and your sister and Susan can walk
down to your mom's clinic and say 'hi' to her." 

The other woman, Susan, Cat guessed, bit her lip. "Sara's
not at the clinic. She took the afternoon off to go
horseback riding with her friend from Washington. She was
going to pick the kids up around 5."

"Sara?" Justin asked Susan. "Is that the sheriff's wife?" He
gave her his best boyish smile.

Susan was entranced. "Yes, she is."

"Is there any way we can talk to her?"

A little warily, the deputy nodded at Susan, who proceeded
to tell Justin how to get to the Zweifel's residence. As the
agents started to leave the building, Cat turned back to the
baby-sitter, nodding at the girl in her arms. "Her name
wouldn't happen to be 'Samantha', would it?"

"No," the woman shook her head. "It's Marisa. Why?"

"Just checking." Cat turned and walked out the door.

With one last smile to Susan, Justin followed.

*****

End 4/18

Wambli-Part 5/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Don't you ever want to stop? Get out of the damn car?
Settle down and live something approaching a normal life?"

"This *is* a normal life."

Episode 6x04-Dreamland

*****

Outside Lincoln, SD

The sun was hot, but the wind coming from the north was
moderately cool, keeping the ride pleasant...if you liked
wind. 

Wind was the only thing Sara hated about living on the
prairie. It was a constant presence, and not a very polite
one. In the summer, it could be hot, cool or stormy. In the
winter, it was frigid, threatening any bare skin with
frostbite. Only the Chinook winds that blew down off the
Black Hills in the winter were welcome. These amazing winds
could change the temperature from 10 degrees to 50 in less
than an hour, and they brought a great deal of warm, spring
like days to the area, even in February. But Sara could
easily do without wind. Especially today.

It made a persistent noise here in the grasslands, blowing
through the grasses and few trees, as well as any man made
objects in its path, never silent. And it gave the
appearance of movement from every direction. This in
particular bothered her.

Ever since Mulder had left the night before last, she had
been on edge. Looking over her shoulder, never relaxing
while in public, checking the locks three, sometimes four
times every night. Moira was still staying with her, and the
woman's presence helped. But Moira was leaving to go back to
Spokane tomorrow.

Sara knew it was silly to be so paranoid when she had lived
in this community for so long. Even if her true identity got
out, she was sure most of the people would still look on her
as a friend and keep her secret if she asked. But she still
felt uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was to involve
her children or newfound friends in the horrors she and
Mulder had lived with for years.

They had escaped years ago with the help of three men; three
men they had never believed they could trust: CGB Spender,
Alex Krycek and the British gentleman only known as The
Well-Manicured Man. Their deaths had been faked, their
funeral had been held, and running on pure disbelief and
hope, they had assumed their new names, married, and set out
to start a new life. Coming to South Dakota four years ago,
just after Fox's birth, had been like coming home. Lincoln
was the perfect town; isolated, but not too far from a
larger city, and not likely to attract too many strangers.
The people were friendly and the environment, though harsh,
was beautiful. For the first time in her life, Sara had
everything she had ever wanted.

This afternoon, she and Moira had taken Poker and Feisty out
for a 'stroll'. Moira trained horses for a living, but still
appreciated a relaxing trail ride on a quiet horse. Poker,
Mulder's Quarter Horse gelding, was very quiet. A retired
roping horse, the big buckskin was unfazed by almost
anything; he had even allowed a screaming Marisa on his back
at one time, reacting with nothing more than a twitch of his
ears. Sara's mare, Feisty, lived up to her name, but was
also a wonderful trail horse. The little grey Arabian mare
suited Sara perfectly. PeeWee, the chestnut Shetland pony
who lived with the bigger horses, was slowly teaching Fox
the basics in horsemanship. Though Mulder could almost
straddle the pony without ever taking his feet off the
ground, little PeeWee was just the right size for the little
boy. He was incredibly smart (as most Shetlands are), but he
had been trained right from the start and was not spoiled.
They were lucky to have him.

They rode quietly side by side in the grassy ditch alongside
the rode. Sara had taken Moira to a hill that overlooked the
area. The Black Hills to the west, the Badlands to the
north, the Bad River Reservation border just two miles to
the south. Moira was used to wide open spaces, but not this
wide, and was duly impressed. They didn't talk about Mulder
or about Wambli, who was still safe in hiding with Billy.
They didn't talk much at all.

As they neared the Zweifel's gravel driveway, a car turned
into it and headed down toward the house ahead of them.

"Looks like you have visitors." Moira's word were meant to
be a statement, but Sara heard the question in them.

"I don't recognize the car," she responded. Then she sighed.
"I hope it's not Remington and Chase."

"Have you talked to them since Mul-, I mean Ian, left?"

Sara shook her head. "No. Which is strange. I was sure
Remington was going to pursue this thing."

They guided their mounts up onto the gravel and headed for
home. Sara could hear PeeWee squealing in the distance; he
hated being left behind. Poker answered him, giving a high,
trumpet-like nicker. They walked up the slight hill that
looked down onto their house and saw that the car had parked
behind Sara's Cavalier, but no one had gotten out. Grizz and
Ricky were making sure of it.

Though Sara knew the dogs would never really hurt anyone
(although, she had an inkling Grizz might if he felt his
family was threatened), she also knew that whoever was in
the car did not know this. "Grizz! Ricky! Come!" Both dogs
immediately turned away from the car and loped up the hill
to meet her. Two people stepped out of the vehicle, which
Sara could see now was a rental, and faced them. 

The two people on horseback recognized the two people on the
ground first.

"Oh, shit!" Moira hissed. She looked at Sara. "Should we
run?" The question was half serious, half teasing. 

Sara answered in kind. "To where?"

With another sigh, she moved forward to meet the two people
that awaited her, only a little surprised to see their
stunned faces when they recognized her. So, they weren't
here to see her; they hadn't know she was here. That left
only one other reason for their visit. 

Wambli had officially become an X File.

************************************************************

"That's why we like you, Mulder. Your ideas are weirder than
ours!"

Episode 1x16-E.B.E.

*****

1630 Texas Street
Washington DC

It was just starting to get dark in the city when Mulder and
Charlie arrived at their first stop, but it was still muggy
and sweltering. Charlie hadn't stopped complaining about
everything: the plane ride (he hated to fly), the traffic in
the city, the humidity. Mulder was too wired about the
possible future that he didn't really hear the complaints.
Charlie knew this and didn't seem too upset by it; he was
just talking to ease his own nervousness about the whole
bazaar situation.

They made their way to the apartment via the back door of
the building, walked up three flights of stairs, and came to
number 33. Mulder had never been here before as the
occupants of the apartment had just moved in several months
ago, but he knocked on the door with confidence, knowing
what to expect...mostly. Only two men lived here now; the
third had moved out to live with his girlfriend a few blocks
away. He cringed at the thought of what Frohike's girlfriend
looked like. 

"Yes?" Byers' familiar voice came over the speaker built
into the wall next to the door. Mulder glanced up at the
video camera that peeked out from above the same door.

"Byers, if you don't know who this is by now, your camera
must be broken. In which case, you guys are slacking." Next
to him, Charlie also looked up, his eyes widening when he
recognized the camera.

As they heard the dozen or so locks being disengaged from
inside the apartment, Charlie turned to his companion. "Who
the heck are these guys?" he mumbled.

"Friends. Oddball friends, but friends."

"I heard that," Byers said as he threw open the door.
"Mulder! I don't believe it! I never thought you'd ever set
foot in this town again." The bearded man stepped away from
the door, allowing both Mulder and Charlie to enter, then
moved in to take Mulder's hand and shake it in welcome.

Mulder smiled and nodded toward Charlie as Byers closed the
door behind him. "Charlie, this is John Byers. Byers, this
is Charlie Yellow Hawk, Police Chief of the Bad River Indian
Reservation." As the two men shook hands, Mulder looked
around the front room of the apartment. Strangely enough, it
looked like a normal apartment, except for the top notch
computer equipment sitting at various locations around the
room. "Where's Langly?"

"He and Frohike are shopping."

Mulder swung his head around to stare at Byers in
astonishment. "Shopping?!"

Byers smiled. "It's Katie's birthday next week, and Langly's
out helping him find something for her." He shrugged. I
thought it best to just avoid any association with the
event; that way, if they get something really ridiculous, I
won't get blamed!"

Mulder laughed. "I really have to meet this Katie. Any woman
who can get those two to go shopping must be special."

"Oh, she's special, all right. We all love her. Just not
like Frohike does."

Mulder shook his head in disbelief. "Where wonders never
cease..."

There was silence in the room for a moment, then Byers asked
the inevitable question. "Where's Scully?"

Mulder glanced at Charlie, who looked at him with eyebrows
raised. He debated with himself for a few seconds, then
said, "She stayed at home." He saw the curious look in
Charlie's eyes, but no surprise. Smart man that he was, he
had probably already figured out that Sara also had a secret
past.

A loud pounding on the door caused all three men to jump.
Byers walked over to it, looked at the monitor sitting on
the table next to it, and opened it; he hadn't yet locked it
up again after letting Mulder and Charlie in. Langly and
Frohike stumbled in, laughing over some joke. They stopped
short when they saw Mulder.

Frohike reacted first. "Mulder!" He rushed over and gave the
taller man a huge bear hug. Fortunately, Mulder had expected
this, and he laughingly returned it. After the little man
backed away, Langly moved closer. The two old friends
clasped hands in greeting.

"Langly!" Mulder exclaimed. "What happened to your hair?"

The blonde man smiled. "I got rid of the ponytail a couple
of years ago, Mulder. It just looked too ridiculous what
with the fact that I'm losing everything up top!"

"He just wanted to look like Skinner," Frohike said. "He's
hoping Cat will someday see how much they look alike, and
start eyeing him the way she eyeballs the Skinman."

Mulder's eyebrows shot up. "Cat and Skinner?" He looked 
at Byers. He knew Byers and Cat had broken up, but 
had not heard this new piece of news.

Byers blushed and shrugged. "Well, possibly. If they 
are, they are very discreet about it."

Mulder shook his head again, hoping Cat knew what she was
doing. Getting involved with your superior was dangerous.
And nerve wracking, according to his wife. When he had
pressed her on how she knew that, she had admitted that she
and Skinner had gone out a couple of times several years
ago. It had been during the time that the X-Files had been
closed and he hadn't really been their boss, but it had
still been a bit frightening. She had had to spend the rest
of the night convincing him that nothing more that a few
drinks and food had been shared between them on their nights
out; she had been in love with Mulder at the time, and
Skinner had known it.

Mulder introduced Charlie to the other men, then answered
Frohike's question about Scully's whereabouts. 

"How're the kids?" the little man asked next. 

Mulder felt a goofy smile take over his face. "Fine. They're
great. I wish you guys could see them."

All three of the Gunmen had copies of his goofy grin on
their faces. "Someday, Mulder," Byers said. "Someday."

"That's the magic word, isn't it?" Mulder said with a soft
laugh.

"So," Langly started. "What brings you out of wedded bliss
and into the lion's den?"

"Ft. Marlene," Mulder said without preamble.

The three men looked at each other warily. "What about it?"
Langly asked.

"Is it still open?"

Byers shrugged. "I think some parts still are."

"I need to get in there and find some files, on tests that
were done years ago. And if these files aren't there, I need
to know where they are. Are you guys up for it?"

With matching smiles, the three men made their way to the
computers that sat on the other side of the room. "Just tell
us what you need, Mulder!" Frohike's gleeful reply echoed
back to Mulder.

And so the search began.

************************************************************

"The truth is an elephant described by three blind men..."

Episode 2x09-Firewalker

*****

Zweifel Residence
Lincoln, SD

"Moira," Sara said as she dismounted from Feisty. "Would you
take the horses to the barn and unsaddle them please?" She
pulled her mare's reins down off her neck and handed them to
Moira, who was still on Poker.

"Sure," Moira muttered. Then she turned the gelding and rode
off, leading the little mare behind her.

Both O'Neil and Justin stood there, their stunned
expressions mirroring each others. With a sigh, Sara spoke
first. 

"What can I do for you, Agents?"

They looked at each other, then O'Neil stepped forward.
"That's it? That's all you're going to say?"  Her expression
turned dark. "What can I do for you?" She let out a
frustrated laugh. "Jesus! This is just fucking wonderful! I
suppose 'Sheriff Zweifel' is your former partner, huh? My
former partner?" Her voice was steadily rising, threatening
to become a full-blown shout. Then Justin reached over and
placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Cat," he whispered. 

With another laugh and a whispered curse, she turned away.

Justin watched her for a moment, then faced Sara. "You're
Sara Zweifel?"

Sara nodded. "For the past five years."

He shook his head in disbelief, but a smile was spreading
across his face. O'Neil, who had heard Sara's answer,
snorted. "How?" Justin continued. "I don't understand. Is
the sheriff Mulder?"

She nodded. "It's a long story, Justin."

"Yeah!" O'Neil said, turning toward them again. "I'll bet."
Her voice was still hard. "Where's Mulder?"

"He's not here," Sara said softly. "He's away on business."
She sighed. "I assume you're here because of Wambli."

"Who?" Justin asked.

"The eagle. The stolen, magical eagle who's wanted by the
government." Sara couldn't help but put a little sarcastic
edge to her own voice. "Remington sent you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," O'Neil answered. "Why didn't he tell me it
was you?" she asked. "He knows who you are."

Sara smiled. "I thought he recognized me. I suppose he
couldn't remember where or when. I don't recall ever meeting
him before."

"He worked in Baltimore around the time you started with the
X-Files," O'Neil said, her voice suddenly subdued. Her mind,
that brilliant mind that had worked so well with Mulder's,
was busy. Her gaze had turned inward. Suddenly, she looked
at Sara with wide eyes. "The children. We saw them at the
Sheriff's office. How?"

With a sad smile, Sara whispered, "That's a long story,
too."

"I think we have time," Justin said. "You're right. We're
here about that eagle and Remington did ask us to come. But
I think we have more important things to discuss. Don't
you?"

Sara sighed and looked at the gravel beneath her feet.

"Scully?"

"It's Sara," she corrected him. "Please remember that." She
looked up. "No one here knows the truth. Except Moira." She
nodded in the direction her friend had gone with the horses. 

"Who else does know?" Justin asked.

"Skinner. My mother. The Gunmen. A friend from here, Charlie
Yellow Hawk, was just told most of it the other day." She
sighed again. "Moira. And now you." She folded her arms
across her chest in a defensive posture, only realizing
after she had done it that O'Neil was standing the same way.

"Walter knew?" O'Neil asked. "He knew you were both alive?
Damn him!" Her voice had risen again.

"You can't be mad at him," Sara said, wondering about
O'Neil's use of Skinner's first name. "He was under an oath
not to tell anyone."

"Yeah, but..." O'Neil's expression turned to confusion.
"I..."

"Cat took Mulder's 'death' hard, Sc- Sara," Justin
explained. "And she and Skinner have become close. He should
have known what it would mean to her to know the truth."

"It would have put our lives at risk," Sara said. "Your
being here now puts our lives at risk, as well as the lives
of our children."

"Children," O'Neil said, glad for the change of subject.
"Back to them. How? I thought you were barren? That little
boy was definitely Mulder's. Did you...?"

"No," Sara smiled, knowing what O'Neil was hinting at.
"They're mine, too. That story involves the Gunmen."

"The Lone Gunmen helped you and Mulder have kids?" Justin
asked, his face incredulous. 

"Well, it was more Frohike, but the others knew he was up to
something and got themselves involved, too."

Both agents stood there staring at her. 

She couldn't help but laugh. "Come inside. I'll tell you all
I can."

*****

End 5/18

Wambli-Part 6/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"...find yourself a man with a spotless genetic make-up and
a really high tolerance for being second-guessed, and start
pumping out the little Uber-Scullies."

Episode 4x03-Home

*****

Moira joined O'Neil and Justin in Sara's kitchen, where Sara
was busy filling glasses with water. As she set them on the
table in front of the agents, she told them, "It's well
water, so it might not have a taste that will appeal to you.
If not, I have some bottled water in the fridge."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Justin said, taking a sip of the
cool, clear liquid. She watched as his eyes scanned the
room, noticing the old fashioned cupboards and the new oven.
Then he looked her up and down. "You look great."

"Thanks," Sara said. "I feel great." She laughed to herself.
"That's what the prairie does, it either drives you crazy,
or makes you sane."

"Which did it do to Mulder?" O'Neil asked.

"Well, seeing as he was already kind of crazy, what do you
think?"

"He's happy here?" O'Neil had the grace to look embarrassed
when she realized how astonished she had sounded.

"Yes. He was."

"Was?" Justin picked up the word instantly.

Sara sighed. "This eagle thing has him energized. He thinks
he can help her."

"Why? What is so special about it?" 

"She's smart. I mean, human smart." Sara looked at Moira.
"She and Moira can communicate telepathically. The people
that made her the way she is are looking for her. They want
her back. Ian...I mean Mulder...thinks he can help her."

"How?" O'Neil asked.

Sara shook her head. "I can't tell you that. I want Mulder
to come home to me, and though I trust you both, I don't
want you involved."

"What if he needs help?" O'Neil continued. 

"He's got help."

"The Gunmen?" Justin asked. "We could always go to them for
information."

"Do you actually think they'll tell you anything?"

"Are you kidding?" Justin smiled. "Langly and Byers 
would do anything for Cat."

Sara looked at O'Neil, who was blushing. "Really? Even
though they've kept our secret for more than five years?" 
She looked back at Justin.

"Okay, okay. Maybe you're right." He sighed. "But you can
trust us."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Justin. Although, I really
have no reason to, seeing as I haven't spoken to you for
five years. I just don't want anyone involved that doesn't
need to be. It's bad enough you know we're both still
alive!"

Justin bit his lower lip and shook his head. "You said your
mother knows?"

Sara nodded. "She's even seen pictures of her grandchildren,
though she keeps them in a safe deposit box. As you pointed
out, Fox looks just like his dad."

"But Bill doesn't know?"

Bill and Justin had been friends years ago, though that
friendship had weakened after Bill discovered Justin's
homosexuality. When he had been transferred from San Diego
to Spokane to work under Scully, Bill had made him promise
to look out for his sister. Both had mourned greatly at her
'funeral'.

"No, Bill doesn't need to know." Scully leaned back in her
chair. "He would be none to happy to know who I married
while I was pretending to be dead!"

"You really are married, then?" O'Neil asked.

"Yes."

"And the children?"

Another sigh. "Years ago, Mulder found and recovered some of
my ova. They had been taken from me during my abduction
several years earlier. He left them in safe-keeping with the
Gunmen. I managed to get Frohike to tell me about them, even
though Mulder thought he was keeping a great secret from me.
When he decided to tell me, he found out I already knew. By
that time, we were lovers, so it was a safe bet that if I
ever wanted to use them, Mulder would be the father." Her
shoulders moved slightly. "After we were married and came
back to the U.S., we contacted Frohike. The others found
out. They helped us find a doctor in Arizona, and Fox was,
incredibly, conceived on our first attempt." She looked up
and smiled. "Marisa took about three tries. That was only a
little more than a year ago, after Mulder was voted in as
sheriff."

"Wow," O'Neil breathed. "Any plans for more?"

"Maybe." Sara sniffed in amusement. "God knows I'm not
getting any younger." Her expression turned sad. "But, all
will depend on how things go for Mulder. For all I know, he
may not want to come home."

Moira spoke for the first time. "Fat chance, Sara! He'll be
back. And this time, it will be for good!"

They all sat silent for a while. Then Justin stood. 

"Well, Cat. Looks like this case is turning out to be
nothing but a wild goose chase. Or should I say a wild eagle
chase? I say we go home. There is nothing here for us to
do." O'Neil stood as well. "Mrs. Zweifel. We are sorry to
bother you. We'll be leaving." He and O'Neil moved toward
the door. "But if you, or your husband, need anything, you
know were to find us."

"Justin," Sara said sharply as she stood. She moved over to
where he had stopped in the kitchen door. Standing on her
tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you." She
stepped back and looked at O'Neil. "Thank you."

The F.B.I. agents left the Zweifel home and headed back to
Rapid, wondering what they should tell Remington and Chase.

************************************************************

"Pick out something black and sexy and prepare to do some
funky poaching."

Episode 4x15-Momento Mori

*****

The Lone Gunmen's Apartment

It took only a little more than three hours for Langly to
break through to the computer database for Ft. Marlene.
There were no files under 'Eagle' or 'Raptor', nor any that
could be considered 'bird oriented'. But the file called
'Nihm' grabbed Mulder's attention almost immediately. He
remembered back to Moira's mentioning the movie 'The Secret
of Nihm', and wondered if it was a connection or just
coincidence. 

Opening the file provided no answers; almost everything had
been deleted or was protected by a password the Gunmen
couldn't get past. It was nearly midnight when a frustrated
Mulder called home on Byers' cell phone.

"Hello?" He smiled when he heard her voice.

"Hey. It's me."

A relieved sigh could be heard from the other end. "Hi." Her
response sounded breathless and happy. "Where are you?"

"At the three stooges'. Actually, the two stooges now. The
third stooge has a place of his own."

"I remember you mentioning that. Is he there?"

Mulder turned to look at Frohike, who was also on a cell
phone. "Yeah. He's talking to his better half at the moment,
too."

"Wish I could meet her," Sara said. He heard the smile in
her voice. "I'll bet she's something."

"I'm not sure," Mulder responded. "I haven't met her yet."

They were silent for a moment, but it was a comfortable
silence. They were both simply content to be connected. Even
over the phone, it seemed they could read each others
thoughts. 

"Have you found anything, yet?" Sara's voice was soft, as if
she was trying to not break the peace that had settled over
them.

"No. We found a file I think might be the one I'm looking
for, but the guys can't access it." He glanced at Langly and
Byers, who were both leaning over the computer. Charlie sat
on the couch, his head back and eyes closed. But he wasn't
sleeping. "It's got a very tight password-protect, and they
think it may take a couple days to hack into it."

He heard her sympathetic "Mmmmm." She was silent for a
while, only the silence now seemed tense. 

"Is Moira still there?"

"Yes. She's heading back tomorrow morning, late. She's going
to visit Wambli one more time before she goes." Mulder was
positive he heard nervousness in her voice now. "Mulder..."

"What is it? What's wrong?" His voice held enough concern
that Charlie's eyes opened and looked over at him.

"I had a couple visitors earlier today."

"Who?" Mulder demanded. "Remington and Chase?"

"No. A couple of agents that were sent to interview you by
Remington and Chase." She paused. "From the X Files."

Mulder stood silent in shock. Byers and Langly were looking
at him now, as well. "Cat and Monroe?" he asked quietly.
"They were there?"

"Yes."

"They know what happened to us." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Sara answered anyway. "We can trust them to keep
quiet, I'm sure. But they're curious about this eagle thing.
I have a feeling they're going to head over to the Gunmen's
as soon as they get back to D.C."

"You're probably right." He eyed his friends, all who were
watching him with wide eyes. "They'll keep quiet if they
know what's good for them." His voice was teasing, but it
held a note of fear, too. "The last thing we need is
government involvement on this end."

"Which I guess means you haven't talked to Skinner?" Sara
asked.

"No. And I won't unless I have to."

Frohike had finally hung up on Katie, and was watching
Mulder with a furrowed brow, having had missed most of
Mulder's words to his wife. "Have to what?"

Langly and Byers shrugged.

"Hey, I gotta go. It's midnight here, and I didn't get much
sleep last night, or the night before for that matter." He
turned his back on his companions and talked softly now.
They also turned away, knowing the conversation was getting
personal, but he would bet they all had their ears cocked
his way.

"I remember," Sara sighed. "I wish you hadn't left without
waking me up first."

"I couldn't," Mulder explained. "You know I'm horrible at
good-byes." He had felt like a chicken leaving like he did,
but he had wanted to leave his home with good memories, not
tears. "I love you," he whispered.

There was silence for a moment. "Promise me you'll keep me
up to date? I'll sleep much better knowing you're still all
in one piece."

He laughed softly. "Hey! You know I'd call you even if I
wasn't."

She sniffed in response. "Goodnight. I love you."

"Kiss the kids for me?"

"Yep." It was her typically response when she was trying to
hold back tears. 

After a few seconds more of silence, she hung up. With a
sigh, he thumbed his phone off. When he turned around, it
was to find four pairs of eyes on him, intent and
questioning. "Well, boys. Our good friends from the X Files
may be knocking on your door soon. We need to know what to
do about it." When no one responded, he walked over to the
computer. "Would it be easier to get into this file from
inside the facility?"

"Well, yeah. I guess," Langly said. "You'd still need to
know the password, but it would be easier to get past that
on the main system."

"But how do we get in?" Byers asked. "I have a feeling their
security is top-notch."

Fohike cleared his throat behind them. "I think I know a
way."

************************************************************

"Who knows, Scully. This could turn out to be more
interesting than fox-fires."

Episode 2x24-Our Town

*****

Lincoln Medical Clinic

Sara sat at her desk and breathed a sigh of relief as she
slipped out of her low heels. It had been a long day
already, and it was only 1 P.M. in the afternoon. She had
been awakened at 3 this morning when Barb Lightfoot had
called her, terrified that her 3 month old little boy's
fever was getting too high. Sara had called her neighbor,
Kim, to come over an watch the kids, then had the young
mother meet her at the clinic. The baby had indeed been
burning up. A cooling bath and fluids had helped the baby,
and Sara's soft, calming words had helped the mother. When
Barb had finally taken the sleeping baby home, it had been
6, time to start the day. She had been seeing patients since
then, and was exhausted. She hadn't gone on so little sleep
since... well, since she had been Dana Scully. 

Thank God tomorrow was Friday.

Then again, she really had nothing to look forward to this
weekend. Moira had left for home today. And taking the
children into Rapid by herself was a chore. She supposed she
could try and catch up on some reading. She sighed and
laughed softly to herself. When was the last time she had
spent a weekend without Mulder? It had been a while. She
missed him, and he had only been gone three days.

Michelle Rosenberg stuck her head in the door. "Hey. Are you
busy?"

"No," Sara breathed. "Thank goodness."

Michelle laughed and entered the office. "I know what you
mean. Everyone seems to think, now that it's nearing Friday,
it's time to get looked at before the weekend hits and they
have to drive all the way to Rapid. Even if they've been
sick since Monday!" She sat down in one of the two chairs in
front of Sara's desk.

Sara smiled and nodded. The clinic was closed on weekends,
except for emergencies, and though there were a few other
doctors in the vicinity, the next reputable medical facility
was all the way in Rapid City, where several clinics and
hospitals were open.

"How is Barb's baby?"

"He's fine," Sara said. "I called and checked up on them
about an hour ago. He still has a slight temperature, but
she's checking him every hour."

"That's good," Michelle said. Then she folded her hands in
her lap and looked down at them silently. "How's Ian? Has he
called you?"

Sara hesitated. The people of McCloud county trusted their
sheriff, but most were a bit startled he and Charlie had
gone off so secretly. "He called last night. Wanted to let
me know he might be gone longer than expected."

"Oh? That's too bad. I bet you miss him." Michelle and Al
had been married for over 30 years now, and they were still
in each others back pockets. Sara envied them. They worked
together, they lived together. Yet, they were complete
individuals, always giving and never taking from each other.
She had thought only a short while ago she had that kind of
marriage, too.

"Yes," she nodded. "I do."

Michelle was silent again. She looked as if she was trying
to find the courage to ask something. Sara shivered in
anticipation.

"Michelle? What is it?"

Michelle sighed. "Lucas came by today, wanted to know if we
had any long term patients staying here. I told him no. We
haven't had any for a while now. He told me that when he had
driven by this morning, a man had been walking down the
sidewalk across the street, looking at the clinic. He saw
the same man, in a different place, twice more today.
Watching the clinic. He thought it might be the relative of
an out-of-town patient since he wasn't familiar."

Sara felt the chill that had started running down her back
grow into a full blown iceberg. "Is he still watching the
place?"

"I don't know. But after I told Lucas we had no patients
staying here, he wondered if it might have something to do
with those F.B.I. agents that were here yesterday."

Sara felt all the blood drain out of her face.

"Sara? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. But she knew she was far from it.

************************************************************

"Oh, man, did you come to the wrong place!"

Episode 5x19-Folie a Deux

*****

Sam Colter knew he had been made the third time he saw the
sheriff's deputy drive by, but he wasn't worried. His CIA
credentials could get him out of the worst trouble if need
be. And his find was far too important to leave just now. He
still couldn't believe his luck. 

Dana Scully. THE Dana Scully. And he hadn't even been
looking for her. He had thought, as everyone in his
acquaintance had, that she was dead. But she wasn't. She was
here. And if she was alive, then it was a good bet Fox
Mulder was, too.

Colter had only wanted to make sure O'Neil and Monroe found
out nothing about the eagle from Ft. Marlene; that was why
he had come to this one-horse-town in the middle of nowhere.
But he hadn't expected to find gold. Gold in the form of a
presumed-to-be-dead-but-obviously-not F.B.I. agent. He had
already called in his find to his superiors, but now he
wanted to know if this 'Sara Zweifel' knew the whereabouts
of her former partner. Colter hadn't seen him yet, but that
didn't necessarily mean anything.

He had seen the Indian deputy stop by the clinic around
lunch, and he was quite sure that the Scully woman knew he
was here. Colter thought this was a good thing; Paranoia
breeds fear, and fear breeds carelessness. He was positive
she knew where Mulder was, and he would keep his eye on her
until she lead him to the ex-F.B.I. agent. Then, they would
have them both.

*****

End 6/18

From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 5 Nov 2001 03:22:00 -0000
Subject: Wambli(7/18) by Virtues & Vices
Source: direct

Reply To: virtuesandvices@aol.com


Wambli-Part 7/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"She's not what I'd call an open mind on the subject."

"She's a scientist. She just makes me work for everything."

"Yes, but I'm sure there were times when two like minds on a
case would have been advantageous."

Episode 5x20-The End

*****

Ft. Marlene Research Center, Maryland

Is just so happened that Frohike had connections. His
girlfriend, Katie, led them to her best friend's boyfriend,
who happened to work for the government and had access to
Ft. Marlene. It didn't matter that he was just a janitor,
all the ID badges looked the same for all the employees, so
the Gunmen where able to use his to copy from. At the start
of the plan, it was decided that Byers would go in with
Mulder, but both Byers and Charlie argued that maybe it
would better if Mulder had someone to watch his back;
someone who was good with a gun. They all agreed that
Charlie should be the one to go in. 

When Langly had started to transfer their pictures onto the
fake badges, Charlie stopped him. "Uh, uh. I better be Clyde
Jurisch." He nodded at the badge Langly was planning on
putting Mulder's picture on.

"You want me to switch them?" Langly had asked. "Why?"

"Oh, come on," Charlie argued. "Do I look like a Robert
Goldstein to you?"

His cheeks suddenly a bright red, Langly had switched the
pictures.

Now, Drs. Jurisch and Goldstein were making their way
through the near silent hallways of the government building.
Mulder remembered the last time he had been here. He and
Scully had been brought here several years ago after
supposedly being exposed to some sort of contagion, a
possible epidemic that the unfortunate Cassandra Spender had
seemingly been spreading. It had been the beginning of the
end for the conspiracy. Or at least, the original group of
men who had made the first deal. He shook his head at the
memory. So many bad things...and some good as well. Think
of the good, he told himself. Well...It had been the first
time he had seen Scully naked when he could actually *enjoy*
it. 

The place had evidentially closed most of its labs since
then. The CDC still worked out of the facility, and it was
presumed the military also had labs. And thanks to the
skills of the Lone Gunmen, Mulder knew the CIA also worked
from here. In fact, they were the creators of Project Nihm.

Charlie was showing definite signs of stress when they
reached their destination, the forth floor, though they had
not met with trouble of any sort. Their fake keycards worked
on all the doors, and the few people they passed took no
notice of them. Everything was going perfect. That was
probably why Charlie was so nervous, Mulder decided. And
maybe it was with good reason. God knows nothing is ever
this easy in real life.

Mulder began to regret ever bringing Charlie along. He
should have taken Byers. Or better yet, he wished he had
Scully by his side. Not that he didn't trust Charlie to
watch his back. He just felt guilty for involving the man.
If Mulder got caught, he was dead. He knew this. He accepted
it, despite the fact that he had so much to live for now.
But his wife had been right when she had said Charlie really
didn't know what he was getting into. The man was loyal to a
fault, and if something happened to him because Mulder
slipped up, Mulder might well as die. His guilt would be too
hard to live with. 

But Charlie was here. And he was here. And there was no
sense in turning back when they were so close. 

They found the door matching the number they were looking
for. A small plaque was visible off to the side: Nihm. "This
must be the place," Mulder said. Using his keycard, he
entered the room. 

It was a typical lab, with tables set in the middle of the
room, sinks set into countertops around the edges. Sterile.
White. A window off to the left allowed them to peer into
another room, this one empty; bare white walls and a padded
floor. Hoses were coiled up on one side of the observation
room; for easy cleaning, Mulder thought. As if animals
frequented the place. On the opposite wall was a bank of TV
monitors, all of them dark. He turned toward one of the
computers and turned it on. Pointing to one of the file
cabinets, he told Charlie to see what he could find.

As Charlie rummaged through the cabinets, Mulder fiddled
with the computer, using the techniques Langly and Frohike
had taught him. He bypassed two simple security blocks, then
came to the password-protect. He pulled out a white index
card, his cheat sheet, and started following the directions
Byers had written down. More than once, he got turned around
in the system, but finally, after more than 30 minutes, he
got in. Charlie had already given up on the files, which
were all full of files on subjects with distinctive names
like 'Taryn' and 'Carmen'. But there was no real
information. He was standing at Mulder's elbow when Mulder
got into the computer files.

Here, the names Charlie had seen were found, only they had
much more information. Including the fact that 'Taryn' was
actually a wolf, and 'Carmen' a tiger. "Secret of Nihm,
indeed," Mulder mumbled. "They aren't just testing eagles."

He slid a disk into the hard drive and started to copy as
much of the information as he could. This copy would
hopefully be enough to buy Wambli's freedom, as the vaccine
he had acquired five years ago had given himself and Scully
theirs. The file began to download onto the disk, but it was
a slow process. 

With a sigh, Charlie began to wander around the lab. "Do you
think those other animals are smart like Wambli?"

"Most likely," Mulder mumbled. His eyes searched the files
in front of him as they copied. "Alien DNA. Looks like they
can find a variety of uses for it. Although, this DNA
appears to be mutated."

Charlie had no idea what his friend was talking about, and
continued his stroll. When he passed by the door on the far
side of the lab, he stopped. He could here voices on the
other side.

"Ian!" he hissed, still not used to calling his friend
'Mulder'. "Someone's coming!"

"Shit!" Mulder responded. "It's not even halfway done!"

"Let's go!" 

But it was too late. The door opened and Charlie turned to
face it. Mulder kept his back to it, closing his eyes and
praying that he could talk his way out of it. The images of
his children flashed behind his eyelids. He heard Scully's
joyful laughter in his head. He stood and prepared himself
to turn toward the new arrival, but a familiar voice stopped
him.

"Hello, Fox."

Mulder's eyes popped open in shock at the words. No. It
couldn't be. He turned sharply.

"Looks like I'm not the only one to return from the dead,"
the woman in front of him said with a soft smile. "Welcome
to Project Nihm."

"Diana?"

************************************************************

"Mulder, this stinks. And not just because I think that
woman is a...well, I think you know what I think that woman
is."

Episode 6x12-One Son

*****

Mulder just stood there, speechless. Diana Fowley, alive and
well. He shouldn't be surprised. He had never seen her body;
never asked for the particulars in her death. If the truth
be told, he had felt a strange sense of relief the day
Scully had told him of her murder. His past with this woman,
both in real life and in the dreamscape created for him by
the Consortium, had been turbulent and mystifying. He had
truly believed back then that he loved her. But the truth
was, he hadn't known what love was.

Until Scully. 

His past with Diana had seemed trite in comparison with the
passion, trust and devotion he had found with his wife. But
now, seeing her standing before him, several old feelings
began to return: Wonder at her interest in him, excitement
at her acceptance and belief in his work, dark despair at
her abandonment, confusion at her return. Anger and pain at
her betrayal.

"What's the matter, Fox?" Diana said, the smile still
intact, but her eyes nervous. "Cat got your tongue?"

"What are you doing here?" He waved his arms around the
laboratory. "You're not a doctor."

"Somehow, I get the feeling that isn't the question you
really want to ask, just the one that needs to be asked,"
she said wryly.

"Well?" Mulder felt his equilibrium coming back slowly.
Geez, he really wished Scully was at his side now. She
wouldn't be so stunned that she wasn't able to think.

"I have always known of this project. There is a similar
project being conducted in the Netherlands. When my 'death'
was arranged, I was asked to help here."

"Doing what?" Charlie spoke for the first time. "What
exactly are you trying to accomplish here?"

Mulder looked at him in surprise. Okay, so maybe he didn't
need Scully here. In fact, it was probably a good idea,
seeing as Scully would rather rip Diana's hair out than
strike up a conversation with her.

"I'm sure you already know what we're doing here, though I
don't know how."

"You didn't know I was coming?" Mulder asked, his brain
working frantically.

"No. I had no idea you were in DC until I saw you on the
security camera at the front entrance. That was a bold move,
by the way. Anyone could have recognized you."

"Everyone thinks I've been dead for five years. They would
have no reason to notice me." He paused. "You weren't
surprised."

"No," she said again. "I've always known you were really
alive, though not where you have been or what you're doing."
Her brow furrowed slightly. "I asked, but he wouldn't tell.
Even me."

"Who?" Mulder demanded.

"Who do you think?" Diana said, a sad smile on her face this
time. "The same man that gave you a new life gave one to me,
too."

"Spender?" Mulder asked. Without waiting for a response, he
continued. "Even though you betrayed him in the end by
letting Scully know where I was?"

She shook her head. "He never wanted you dead, even then. He
thought it was best to let you die on that table, but he
understood why I couldn't let that happen." She looked into
his eyes, her gaze imploring. "But the rest of the doctors
thought it best you die...and me."

"Spender helped you fake your death to keep you safe?"

She nodded. "Just like he did for you...and Scully."

"So," Mulder continued. "You decided to test animals in your
new life?"

She laughed softly. "It's quiet here. A good place to hide
and still stay within sight and sound of the new Consortium.
Spender keeps me updated regularly."

"Are you in charge of this place, then?" Charlie asked.

"No. I only run the data section." She glanced at the
computer. "I had thought that it was impossible to bypass my
security." She looked at Mulder. "I guess I was wrong."

"Who is in charge?" Mulder asked.

"Dr. Megan Northam. She took over the project about six
years ago." Her eyes got bright. "Look at this, Fox." She
moved over to the dark monitors sitting against one wall and
flipped a switch. All of the TV screens turned on, each one
broadcasting a different image. Images of animals. "Did you
know that there is an African Grey Parrot in Arizona that
can count up to ten, distinguish between colors and shapes,
and uses English to communicate certain phrases to his
trainer? They have intelligence equivalent to a kindergarten
age child!" She pointed to one of the screens, where a
parrot sat perched inside a glass enclosure. "This is
Ashley. She can count as high as you or I, she speaks four
languages fluently, understands what she is saying, and can
calculate the square root of 342!"

"Hell, I can't even do that," Charlie mumbled.

Mulder glanced at him, then looked back at Diana. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Because we can?"

He shook his head. "No." He took a step closer to her.
"Remember, Diana. I know you. You don't even like animals.
There has to be a better reason for you to get all hot under
the collar for a project like this."

Diana stayed silent. 

"Have you ever had one escape?" Charlie asked quietly.

"Not that I'm aware of." She looked at Charlie, her eyes
narrowing. "They have no desire to. They are well cared for
here. And happy."

"Are you sure about that?" Charlie continued. "You give them
the intelligence of a human being, but are they emotionally
prepared for it? Can they handle the pressure that comes
with it? I know many child geniuses can't. They end up
neurotic, psychotic, or worse, demented." He paused. "Not to
mention that fact that *I*, being as smart or smarter than
the average bear, wouldn't want to live in a cage." He was
looking at the image of a grizzly, who appeared to live in a
circular, barred cage.

Diana watched him for a moment, then her gaze fell on
Mulder, who had also been eyeing the Nihm creations, all who
were confined in some way, including an elephant who had the
traditional leg irons worn by other captive elephants around
both her back legs. 

"Why are you here, Fox?" she asked after a moment.

"Curiosity," he said, his expression blank. "An aquantence
told us of this place." He paused. "She used to reside
here...until she decided to break out."

Her brows furrowed again in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Your people are trying to bring her back. Only she doesn't
want to come back."

"How do you know?" Diana asked, becoming defensive. "What is
she that she can communicate that to you?"

Mulder smiled. "I have connections, Diana. She has made
herself understood to both Charlie and myself. She wants to
be left alone."

Diana gestured toward the computer. "Is that what this is
for? Breaking in and stealing information that the world is
not ready to know?" She shook her head. "I may not know
where you've been for the last five years, but I can see you
haven't changed." Her eyes grew dark, challenging. "Same old
Fox Mulder, truth seeker." She sighed. "I'm sorry,
gentleman. But you have to leave the premises, now."

The door she had entered through opened, and three men in
army uniforms entered, moving around Mulder and Charlie.
Ready to escort them out.

Mulder looked at Diana. "You're just going to let us go?"

"What else can I do?" she whispered. "What else would I do?"

Mulder held her gaze until she finally looked away. Then, he
and Charlie let the men lead them away.

"Wonderful woman," Charlie said after they had been
deposited outside the front entrance. "Who is she, exactly?"

Mulder sighed. "My ex-wife."

************************************************************

"What ever happened to 'trust no one'?"
 
"I changed it to 'trust everyone'. Didn't I tell you?"

Episode 2x16-Colony

*****

Badlands National Park
North of Lincoln, SD

Sara drove moderately, occasionally checking her rearview
mirror. Still nothing. No one was following her. Or, at
least, not that she could see. But that didn't mean
anything. She had already determined that the man shadowing
her was good. Very good.

After Michelle had told her about the stranger in town
yesterday, Sara had gone outside to see for herself if she
had anything to worry about. She had told her co-workers she
was simply going for a walk, and that is exactly how she
played it. She walked down to the Sheriff's office.
Casually. Slowly.

He followed. 

She thought at the time that he was either very stupid and
wasn't very good at this spy thing, or that he was very
smart and was trying to make her nervous. The latter
explanation was the one she was voting for, despite not
wanting it to be true. When she entered the station, she
found Lucas and Sam Lang, the counties two deputies,
discussing something in front of Tricia's desk. 

"Hey," Lucas said when he saw her enter. "We were just
talking about you." He glanced at Sam. "Well, kind of."

"You were talking about that man out there, weren't you?"

They nodded.

"Please, don't worry about him. I know him from a long time
ago. Ian probably sent him here to look out for me, and he's
taking his job a little too seriously." She smiled at them,
praying to God to forgive her for lying to these two
wonderful friends.

"Are you sure?" Lucas asked.

Scully nodded and smiled again. "Michelle was telling me how
worried you were, and I just thought I'd tell you it's all
okay."

She chatted with the two men for a while longer, waiting for
them to relax, then spoke with Tricia for a short time after
the woman got back from lunch. Then she left to go back to
the clinic. The stranger was no where to be seen, but Sara
wasn't about to take any chances.

Once back in her office, she had called Susan and asked if
the woman could keep Fox and Marisa overnight. It was an odd
request, but Susan didn't ask questions. She told Sara she
would stop by the Zweifel house in an hour (most everyone in
town knew where the key was hidden) and pick up some clothes
and other necessities for the kids. Sara desperately wanted
to see her children, but if this man had just started
following her, he may not know about them, and Sara wanted
to make sure he never knew.

She waited until an hour past close before she drove home.
She was very obviously followed. That night, she loaded her
gun and kept it on top of the bedside table. She almost
called Mulder, but she knew that might be dangerous for both
him and her at this point, so she waited. She finally fell
asleep around 4:30. She was up again at 6, calling Michelle
to tell her she wouldn't be in to finish the paperwork she
hadn't finished yesterday; telling her she was sick. Feeling
guilty the whole time.

Now, here she was driving into the unknown. Into the
Badlands. 

She pulled the car over at a scenic turnoff and got out. And
she waited. Soon, the same car that had followed her home
came along, slowed as it passed her, and drove on by. Sara
couldn't see through the windows very well, but she didn't
need to. She had already seen the man's face yesterday. He
had been unfamiliar to her, but that didn't make her any
less nervous. With a sigh, she threw a small backpack over
her shoulder and headed out into the rugged, rocky
landscape. 

She hiked for a good hour, then she settled herself onto the
hard ground on the far side of a bluff, in the shade. She
pulled out the small bottle of water from her pack and
drank. Though still early in the day, the sun was already
excruciatingly hot. She pulled out her gun, loaded and
ready, and leaned back against the rock behind her to wait.

She didn't have to wait very long. The sound of footsteps on
rock and heavy panting caused to sit up quickly. Then,
slowly, so as not to make any noise, she got her feet under
her and squatted down facing the direction the man was
apparently coming from. 

He appeared around a bluff about fifty yards away from her,
and it was obvious he was in distress. He had discarded the
leather jacket he had been wearing yesterday and had a pair
of sunglasses on. He walked with difficulty on the uneven
ground. Without a doubt, he had not been expecting a hike
out in this treeless, barren place. Sara stayed silent,
knowing that, even with his sunglasses on, he would have a
hard time seeing her in the shade; the almost white rock of
the Badlands acted the same way snow did on a sunny day,
blinding any and all who were not prepared for it.

Having been in the shade for several minutes, Sara was
prepared.

She waited until the man was almost past her, then quickly
stood and moved behind him, placing her gun against the back
of his neck. "Who are you?" She had to raise her voice to be
heard over the ever-present wind, which was gradually
getting stronger.

"Agent Scully, I presume," the man answered calmly, raising
his hands in surrender. "I should have known you wouldn't
forget your training. And I should have known your
familiarity with this environment would be detrimental to
me."

"Who are you?" Sara repeated. "Who sent you?"

"It doesn't matter who I am or who I work for. The fact is,
I found you."

Sara ignored the shiver that ran up her back at these words.
"Turn around, slowly." 

The man did as instructed. Sara glared at him, not at all
amused by the slight smile on his face. Carefully, she
reached over an pulled out his weapon from its holster. The
she stepped back. "Let me see your ID."

He laughed. "What makes you think I'm carrying ID?"

"You're an agent of some sort, aren't you? Unless you're
undercover, you're required to carry some. Now let me see
it."

With a sigh, the man reached into his back pocket and took
out what appeared to be a badge. He tossed it to her. She
had tucked his gun into the waistband of her jeans, and
easily caught the object one handed, never taking her own
gun off of him. She flipped it open and wasn't surprised to
see that he was CIA.

"Well, Sam Colter. Now that we've been introduced, why are
you here?"

"I'm watching you, Agent Scully. I hadn't planned on finding
you, but here you are. Great how things work sometimes,
isn't it?"

"You came about the eagle, didn't you?"

"You are a much greater prize than that eagle," he said, his
eyes intense.

"Who are you working for, damnit?" 

His eyes shuttered, and Sara suddenly realized why this
well-trained operative had allowed her to see him. "You're
waiting for me to contact Mulder, aren't you?" She started
laughing. "I may be a great prize, but he's even better. Why
get rid of just one of us, knowing that the other is
undoubtedly near. Then you can kill two birds with one
stone, is that it?" She laughed again, but the sound was
filled with despair. It was over. He wonderful, fairy tale
life was over. "You bastard!"

Sam Colter took advantage of her anger, diving in for the
gun as she yelled at him. But she was too quick. She pulled
the trigger just as he fell forward onto her. His weight
pushed her backwards, and she staggered, almost falling
herself. But she managed to dodge his body as it fell, face
first, onto the ground. The doctor in her was immediately
activated as she kneeled down and turned him over. Her
bullet had ripped into his chest at close range; there was
nothing she could do.

But he wasn't dead, yet. "They know where you are," he
whispered. Then his eyes turned sightless, and his body
stilled forever.

*****

End 7/18

Wambli-Part 8/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Do I look like I'm having fun?"

"You look constipated, actually."

Episode 5x13-Patient X

*****

Mulder was dreaming.

In the dream, he was much younger. And much less jaded. In
the dream, he was making love to his wife...Diana.

They were on a bed in a bedroom he didn't recognize. He was
totally absorbed in the woman beneath him. She was naked, as
was he, and they were touching each other with the
familiarity of long time lovers. He breathed in her scent,
tasted her flesh. Felt desire pound through him. She was
breathing hard, trying to speak, encouraging him to increase
his intimate exploration. She bit his ear, and he moaned. He
felt her legs open and gratefully slipped between them,
pushing himself into her inviting depths. She gasped and
begged for more. He began to move, suddenly anxious for the
finish. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly,
panting. A noise off to his right caught his attention, and
he opened his eyes and turned his head to look. His vision
was blurred with passion, but he recognized the person
standing there almost immediately.

Scully.

She stood there, looking like she had the day he met her.
Innocent, young, idealistic. Beautiful. She didn't move, she
just stood there, watching them, her eyes sad. He tried to
turn away, tried to expel her image from his mind. She
didn't belong here. Not yet. But just as he was about to
shut his eyes, he saw the shadow of a man move up behind
her. He couldn't see the man's face, but he clearly saw the
gun the man held. It was directed at Scully.

"No," he mumbled. But he could do nothing else. He looked at
the woman writhing underneath him. Her eyes were closed and
her expression was full of ecstasy; she was nearing orgasm.
He continued to pump into her, almost as if he was under
some kind of mind control. He *had* to finish. Then he could
help Scully. 

"Mulder." Scully's voice, full of fear.

"Fox!" Diana's voice, full of exquisite passion.

The shot rang out and Scully's body collapsed just as Diana
screamed her completion.

"NO!" Mulder felt the shout tear from his throat as he woke
up. He sat up on the bed abruptly, sweat pouring down his
bare chest in tiny rivulets. He gulped in air, then lowered
his face into his hands, trying to calm his racing heart. He
shifted to the side of the bed, lowering his legs to the
floor. He reached into his boxers to re-adjust his
semi-arousal, then stood and went to his phone, which was
sitting on Byers' dresser. He glanced at his watch, only to
find that it was less than two hours sense he had laid
himself down, in the middle of the day, to try to catch up
on some sleep. Charlie was trying to do the same in Langly's
room.

He had to tediously dial the number to the clinic, because
the phone couldn't speed dial long distance. He heard
Carrie's voice answer. "Yeah, is Scu--, I mean is Sara
there?" His voice sounded rough to his ears. He must have
really screamed in his sleep.

"Ian?" Carrie asked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. Is Sara there?"

"No. She called in sick this morning. Susan is still
watching the kids. I guess she wasn't feeling well last
night already."

Mulder sat on the edge of the bed. Sick? Scully was never
sick. And why was he suddenly thinking of her as Scully
again?

"Okay, thanks. I'll try her at home." He was about to
disconnect when he heard Carrie ask a question.

"When are you due back, Sheriff?"

"Hopefully, soon," he answered, then hung up. He dialed the
house number, but wasn't surprised to get the answering
machine. Next, he called Susan's.

"Yes, the kids are fine," she said in answer to his first
hurried question. "Ian, what is going on? You and Sara are
both acting so strange."

Mulder sighed. "Susan, there may be some trouble coming to
town. Hell, it may already be there. Promise me you'll take
care of those kids, please."

"Of course, Ian. You know I will." She paused. "Are you in
trouble with the FBI or something?"

"No. I wish it were that simple. Look, if you see or hear
from Sara, have her call me right away. Okay?"

"You bet." Mulder felt himself smile as he heard the typical
Dakota affirmative, then he hung up and left the bedroom.

Charlie was sitting on the couch, carelessly flipping trough
channels on the TV. He glanced over at Mulder. "Couldn't
sleep either?" He shook his head. "It's abnormal to sleep
when the sun's out. I couldn't do it."

"I know what you mean." He sat down on the edge of the couch
next to the Indian, his body tense.

Charlie noticed. "What's wrong, man?"

"I can't get a hold of Scully. She supposedly called in sick
to the clinic, and the kids have been at Susan's since
yesterday."

"So? I'm sure she's fine."

Mulder shook his head. "Then why...?"

"Why what?"

Mulder sighed. "I just had this really weird dream, and I
woke up feeling that Scully was in danger."

Charlie was silent for a moment. "Scully?" he said,
reminding Mulder once again that he was calling her by her
old name. "It seems to me from all that I've seen and heard
around here that she can take care of herself quite well."

Mulder let out a humorless laugh. "Yes. That she can. That
hasn't ever stopped me from worrying about her."

His mind drifted to the dream. What had it been about? Was
it just some screwed up mess from his overactive
imagination? Or did it mean something? He couldn't see how.
There was no way in Hell he would ever have sex with Diana
again, especially with Scully watching! He couldn't for the
life of him decipher it.

Years ago, he had been so happy to find Diana. They had met
at the Academy. She had been beautiful, sexy, smart; his
ideal. And she had been far less brusque than Phoebe had
been. There had been no time for a real romance during the
16 weeks of training, but they had spent most of what little
free time they had together. He had been assigned to DC, and
she had been sent to Miami. About the same time he had
joined the elite group of profilers at Quantico, she had
been transferred to DC. That was when the romance really
started. They had been married for less than a year when
Mulder had taken a leave of absence from the Investigative
Science Unit due to stress and decided to re-open the
X-Files, a division he had not known anything about until he
had met Arthur Dales several months earlier. After the leave
was over, he had requested to continue on the
X-Files...with his wife as his partner. Patterson had been
pissed. The Director had been confused. And Mulder had
started the search for his missing sister in earnest.

In the beginning, Diana had been the perfect partner. She
thought like him, believed in the unbelievable like he did,
and never argued or doubted his observations. He never
realized how much he hated that until much later, when he
had found his true *perfect* partner. After she had left for
Europe, telling him she needed to 'find herself', and filed
for divorce, it had been easy for Mulder to bury himself in
his work, ignoring the pain of yet another abandonment.
Partner after partner followed, none every staying for more
than a couple months. And then everything had changed.

She had been the complete opposite of Diana, yet was just as
intelligent, just as beautiful. She had argued with him. She
had disagreed with him. She had supported him. She had
challenged him. For years, he had kept her at a distance,
knowing that someday, she too would leave. He had just begun
to think she was his forever when she did leave. For a
month, he had wallowed in self pity, mentally beating
himself over and over again for ever allowing himself to
fall for her. But their separation hadn't lasted long. While
physically, they were thousands of miles apart, they kept in
touch. The arguments and banter continued, though it was
confined to the Internet. It had been over a year after her
departure, after he had finally found a reasonably
acceptable partner in Cat O'Neil, that he had seen her
again. And what a reunion.

Six months later, the world was hearing about the funeral of
two infamous FBI agents, and Ian Zweifel and Sara Wegner
were getting married on Starbuck Island in the middle of the
South Pacific.

He hadn't even thought about being with another woman since.
So why the hell was he dreaming about Diana? Sex with her
had never had the intensity it did with Scully. He shook his
head. Psychologist or not, he couldn't figure out his own
dreams.

He turned to Charlie. "I need to find out where Scully is."

"What about Wambli?" 

Mulder hated to leave his current task, but as important as
Wambli and the other animal test subjects were, Scully was
more important. "Wambli, and the others, will have to wait."
He stood. "But we'll be back."

************************************************************

"You're a doctor, not a lawyer."

Episode 4x23-Demons

*****

Scully sat out in the middle of the Badlands for nearly two
hours after Sam Colter died. She was in shock, she knew, and
she made herself stay in the sun, hot though it was, in
order to stay warm. It had been years since she had had to
kill another human being, and the feelings that were
flooding through her were too powerful to contain. She had
thanked God daily that that part of her life was over; the
part where she was given a legal right to kill in
self-defense or in defense of the innocent. As she looked at
the gun in her hand, she realized with surprise that today
had been the first time she had fired the thing in at least
three years. Mulder had kept up his practice; it had been
necessary for his job. But other that cleaning it on a
regular basis, she had no need to handle hers. 

And now a man was dead because she had used it once more.

With trembling legs, she finally stood and began the long
walk back to the car. Immediately, her mind began to spin.
What did she do now? What about her children? Her job? Her
friends? Her home? Never in her life, even as a child, had
she been as happy as she was here, and now it was over. All
because of that eagle, and Mulder's stupid attempt to help
her. Anger poured through her as she marched across the
rocky ground. If only Charlie hadn't called Mulder about
her. If only Mulder hadn't been curious enough to visit her.
If only he hadn't been so damned open minded that he
believed the impossible all the time. "Yeah, right, Scully,"
she mumbled to herself. "Like you would have ever fallen in
love with him in the first place if he was any different."

When she reached the road, she stood looking at the two cars
that sat at the pull-out, contemplating her next move. It
was hard, trying to get her mind in Scully-mode once more,
but she finally had a plan. Getting into her own car first,
she drove a couple of miles up the road, until she came to
an old dirt road that turned out into a small patch of trees
by a creek. She drove over the rough ground until her car
was safely tucked away behind the old cottonwoods, then
hiked back up the road to Colter's car. Fortunately, she'd
had enough sense to dig out his car keys before leaving, as
she didn't think her tired body could make its way out to
the dead CIA agent and back again. Getting into Colter's
car, she headed home.

When she reached the house, she felt the tears come again.
God, what a beautiful house, she thought as she stepped out
of the car. Grizz and Ricky, who had obviously both just
woken up from naps, came trotting around from the backyard,
tongues hanging out, giving her two, big doggy smiles. Ricky
tried to lick her face by jumping up at it. Grizz just
started whining in his 'poor-me' voice, rubbing his huge
body against her legs, his little stump of a tail moving
back and forth at the speed of light. She patted them and
smiled, but then had to clench her teeth as she felt the
tears come.

Entering the house, she almost went to the phone. Should she
try Mulder? she wondered. She saw the red, blinking light on
the answering machine telling her she had messages, so she
walked over and pressed the 'play' button. Three messages.
All three were hang-ups. Mulder? Or someone else? Had Colter
been in the house at all? Had he left anything behind?
Warily, her eyes roamed the living room. Was the house
bugged? Was the phone? With a grimace, she decided to wait
and call Mulder later. He was probably so absorbed in his
current 'assignment' now anyway, he wouldn't appreciate a
call from her just yet. She quickly turned away from the
phone and headed up the stairs, two little dogs following
her, trying to get her attention.

With quick efficiency, she packed only her necessities,
checked to make sure the animals had water, grabbed several
other important objects, and left her home on the prairie.
Possibly for good.

She had the tears under control by the time she reached
Susan's house.

Susan Larson ran the only daycare in Lincoln, and it was a
busy place on most weekdays. Scully parked the car and moved
quickly up the walk, entering the house with a quick knock.
It appeared that most of the kids were in the backyard,
screaming and laughing and playing, with Susan's assistant
Mary keeping an eye on them. Susan herself was in the
kitchen making up the afternoon snack. 

"Suz," Scully said softly, trying not to startle the woman. 

Susan turned to look at her, her eyes wide. "Sara?! Are you
okay? What are you doing here?"

Just then, Fox ran inside from the outdoors, apparently
having seen his mother through the window. "Mama! Mama!" He
raced toward her. Scully bent to him, her arms open, and
scooped him up.

"Hey, baby! How are you?!" She gave him a quick kiss on the
cheek before he could avoid it; he had reached the age were
he considered kissing 'silly'. With a smile, Scully turned
to Susan. "Where's Marisa?"

"Napping," Susan asked, her eyes still concerned. "Sara.
What is going on?"

With a sigh, Scully put the wriggling little boy down.
"Susan. I need your help."

************************************************************

"If you're waiting for my ususal theory as to what's going
on, I don't have one."

Episode 4x20-Small Potatoes

*****

Washington International Airport

It was late in the afternoon when Mulder was able to call
home again. Once more, he got the answering machine. One
more try with Susan, he decided, as he disconnected and
started dialing. The phone rang five times before she picked
up.

"Hello?" she asked breathlessly, as if she had been running.

"Susan?" he asked. 

"Yes. Is this Ian?"

"Yeah. Is Sara there? Has she been there?"

Susan let out an audible gulp and cleared her throat. "Yes.
She was here a couple of hours ago."

Mulder felt his whole body go limp. "Thank God," he
whispered.

Susan must have heard him, despite the whisper. "I wouldn't
just yet, Ian. She's in trouble...big time."

"What do you mean?" Mulder sat stiff in his chair once
again.

"She came over to ask me to take of the
kids...indefinitely. She's afraid she's in danger. She
wanted me to let you know that she was okay and taking care
of things, and that the kids are 'in the clear', whatever
that means." Mulder knew it meant that whoever Scully was
running from didn't know about the children. "She called
Kate and asked her to take care of the animals." Kate was
one of their neighbors; the only veterinarian for miles, she
would care for the animals without question. 

"Did she say where she was going?" Mulder asked. "Did she
leave any other kind of message for me?"

"Yes, actually."

"What is it?"

"Ian, I have to tell you. This is really scaring me."

"Susan! What did she say?"

"She said to tell you that 'they know where I am and they
are looking for you. Don't come for me'." There was silence
over the line for a moment. "Ian. Please. Who are 'they'?"

"No one you have to worry about," Mulder said, his teeth
clenched. "Just take care of our children."

"Of course," Susan whispered. 

After a few more comforting words, Mulder disconnected. He
looked at Charlie, his eyes wide. "They found us." He stood
and started pacing.

"Now what?" Charlie asked.

Mulder stopped and turned toward him. Charlie was shocked at
the fear he saw in his friend's eyes. "I have no idea."

*****

End 8/18

Wambli-Part 9/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"I don't trust you!"

"You've got no one else to trust!"

Episode 1x23-The Erlenmeyer Flask

*****

"It's been one hell of a shitty week."

Nick Remington silently agreed with Alicia Chase's comment
as he readjusted himself in his seat. TB. Tired Butt. It had
been his favorite phrase as a child, and he still used it,
at least in his head. He had been working on finishing up
his paperwork for four hours now, non-stop, and he really
needed to get up and walk around. But he was almost done.

Chase had joined him in his office about an hour ago to help
him finish the file on the stolen eagle case, or the
YellowHawk/Zweifel case as he preferred to call it, since he
was still convinced they were involved somehow. After he had
asked Cat O'Neil and her partner out to ask around, he had
been more than a little shocked when the two agents had
returned from Lincoln the same day with nothing. Cat had
told him that the sheriff and the police chief had seemed
honest to them and that there was no X-File. He had almost
been convinced Cat was lying because she wouldn't look him
in the eye, but he wasn't about to accuse his friend of such
things. Not without proof, anyway. 

He had called to talk to the sheriff more than once since
then, but was told each time that he was still out of town.
He and Chase would have made another trip down there this
morning had there not been several more important cases to
wrap up. He was anxious to get back out to do some digging,
but now it would have to wait until Monday. 

He heard a noise at his door and looked up. Or maybe it
wouldn't have to wait, he thought to himself as he
recognized the person in the doorway. Alicia noticed his
surprised expression and turned toward the door, her own
expression changing from curiosity to shock. 

Nick stood. "Mrs. Zweifel?" How had she gotten in here?
Security at the Rapid City Federal Building wasn't as tight
as Federal Buildings in larger cities, but Security should
have called up that he had a visitor coming to see him.

"Agent Remington," she said softly. She looked different
today. Her face appeared red, as if sunburned, and she
looked exhausted. "Agent Chase," she added, glancing at
Alicia. "Agent Remington, I was wondering if I might have a
word with you in private?"

Nick looked at Alicia, who had cast a glance full of doubt
his way.

Sara Zweifel almost smiled. "I assure you both, I'm not any
danger to you. I may have told the guard I was here applying
for the Clerks position that's open downstairs, but he still
made me go through the metal detector. I'm not armed." The
dry humor in her voice matched the look on her face.

"Agent Chase," Nick looked at Alicia, who looked embarrassed
by Mrs. Zweifel's statement. "If you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Alicia said as she stood. She nodded to
Mrs. Zweifel and left the office, closing the door behind
her.

Nick waved his had toward the chair Alicia had just vacated.
"Please. Doctor. Have a seat."

"Thank you," she said, then calmly sat in the chair,
crossing her legs in an elegant manner, despite the jeans
and hiking boots she wore.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Zweifel?"

"I understand you're a friend of Cat O'Neil."

Nick was a bit startled by her use of Cat's nickname.
Professionally, she introduced herself as Catherine, not
Cat. "I am. How do you know her?"

She paused for a moment. "She worked with my husband a few
years back."

Nick couldn't keep his mouth from dropping open. "Zweifel
was FBI?"

"Yes," Mrs. Zweifel said coolly. "As was I."

Nick felt his whole body tense. What the hell was this? Some
kind of trick? She did not look like... Suddenly, he
recalled where he had seen Sara Zweifel before. It had been
nearly fifteen years ago, in Baltimore, when he had been
assigned to help Tom Colton catch a serial killer who stole
his victim's livers. The man had been caught, but not by
Colton or himself. Victor Tooms had been captured after
attacking another agent on the case.

"Dana Scully?" His voice was hushed, as if he was talking in
a library with Marion the Liberian watching him like a hawk
from the other side of the room. "But...you...you..."
It was rare indeed that Nick Remington was struck
speechless. "You're dead." His astonished whisper was so
soft he could hardly hear it.

The woman sitting before him tilted the corners of her mouth
up slightly. "Not anymore, apparently." 

Nick sat staring at her for a moment, all the facts and
rumors he remembered hearing about the infamous X-Files,
when they had been run by Fox Mulder, running through his
mind. He flashed back to the scene in the McCloud County
Sheriff's Office that had taken place earlier in the week;
to her confidence as she had walked into a room full of
armed law-enforcement personnel and demanded to know what
was going on; to her standing up to him when he had rudely
asked her if she always stuck her nose in her husband's
business; to her husband's apparent nonchalance at his
wife's interruption, as if he wasn't at all surprised by it,
maybe even expected it. Her husband.

"Mulder." He said, his voice no longer a whisper. 

"You recognized me but not him," Dana Scully said with a
smile. "I'm surprised. He was usually more visible in the
public eye than I was back then."

"I didn't pay any attention to the public's version of
events. During the Tooms' case, I was much more interested
in the cute little red-head Colton had the hots for."

She flushed slightly, but didn't look away. "Poor Colton,"
she said in mock seriousness. "He never spoke to me again
after that case...until my farewell party the day before I
left the X-Files. I guess he figured that, now that I was
out from under Mulder's influence, I could be forgiven." She
laughed slightly. "I had to set him straight that night."

Nick found himself smiling. He had never like Colton. But
the humor quickly died as the situation came to his
attention once more.

"What exactly is going on, Agent Scully?"

"Please, not agent," she corrected. "You can just call me
Dana."

"Dana, then. Why...Oh, hell! What the fuck is going on?!"

She sighed. "I need someone to trust, Agent Remington-"

"Nick, please."

"Nick. I know that you knew Cat O'Neil well enough to ask
her out here to interview my husband, and I know by the way
she spoke, she respected you. Now, I trust her, but she's
all the way back to DC by now, and I need someone near."

"And here I am," Nick replied. "What do you need, exactly?
Other than your apparent secret kept?"

"My secret no longer needs to be kept, Nick. It's already
out." She leaned forward. "What I need now is for my
children to be kept safe." She looked him in the eye, her
blue gaze direct and true. "No one can know who their
parents are. Not until I can ensure their safety."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"First, I have to find my husband. We'll figure the rest out
together."

"You know where your husband is?"

"Yes. I do."

************************************************************

"FBI, my lord! I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight,
knowing they're poking around."

Episode 6x07-The Rain King

*****

Katie Moore was sitting at her computer chatting with her
on-line friends when the FBI came to her door. Not that
having FBI agents visit was uncommon. It was just that this
time they came to ask questions, not to drink beer and shoot
the breeze with her boyfriend and his buddies. When the
knock on the door finally got her attention, the 6-foot-tall
red-head stood with a grimace (obviously she had been at the
computer a little too long tonight) and bent over slightly
to look out the peep-hole, which was a little lower than she
would normally have it, but which suited the 5'2" Melvin
perfectly.

When she recognized Cat and her cute, but unfortunately gay,
partner out in the hall, she quickly opened the door. "Hey,
you guys," she said as she walked back over to the computer.
"Mel isn't here right now, but he should be back any minute.
He just ran down to the Mini-Mart for some Ding-Dongs." She
sat back down and quickly typed out a reply to LobsterQ, her
friend from Florida.

"Ding-Dongs, huh?" Justin said, giving Cat a smirk.

"Don't even," she commented back.

"What?!" Justin's boyish face beamed innocence. Cat just
glared back. "Hey, Katie!" Justin walked over to the woman,
who's fingers were flying on the keyboard in front of her.
"Are you ever not on the computer?"

"I'm not here when I'm sleeping or..." She glanced up at
him, then looked away, blushing. Her pale complexion showed
off the blush beautifully. She shrugged, but kept her eyes
averted. "What can I say. This is where I make my living,
and it's where I met all my friends." Katie was a writer,
and a damn good one. Justin had most of her techno-thrillers
at home. She and Frohike had 'met' in a chat-room dedicated
to her fans, though she had logged on under an assumed name.
It was her way of getting to know her fans. She had liked
Frohike upon first 'meeting' and had set up a RL meeting
only a month later. Frohike had been shocked to discover who
she really was, but had recovered quickly. They had been
inseparable ever since.

Byers and Langly had hated her at first, accusing her of
stealing Frohike. But a pleasant truce had been established,
and though Langly was still somewhat abrupt with her, Byers
treated her like the sister she had, in a way, become.

"Are the others with him?" Justin asked Katie.

She shook her head. "No. I don't think so. Why?"

"They weren't at their apartment," Cat told her. "Do you by
chance know where they might be?"

She shrugged again. "I'm not sure. They could be with that
cute friend of theirs and that nice Native American fellow."

"What cute friend?" Cat asked, though she was pretty sure
who Katie was talking about. Although, if it was Mulder, Cat
wouldn't call him cute.
Drool-on-the-floor-until-you-drop-dead gorgeous maybe, but
not cute.

"I can't remember his last name, but I do remember his
first, because it was a pretty neat name! Fox."

Cat looked at Justin with a smirk. "Told ya."

"Yeah," Justin said noncommittally. "Any idea where they
would be going with Fox?"

She shook her head again. "Sorry, no." She glanced up at
both of them, then back down to the monitor in front of her.

Footsteps outside the door alerted them to the imminent
arrival of visitors. Only they weren't visitors; it was
Frohike, Byers and Langly. All three stopped short upon
sight of the FBI agents. Then Langly stepped forward, a big,
cheesy grin on his face.

"Hey, Cat! What's up?"

Cat gave him a patient look. "Nothing much. Just stopped by
to see if you guys could help us, but apparently you were
all busy visiting with a friend." She stepped closer to
Langly. "How is Fox, by the way?" Her voice and expression
were casual. Too casual.

"Uh, he's fine," Byers said, his brow furrowed with worry.
"He's gone now, though."

"Yeah," Frohike concurred as he moved to stand next to
Katie, who had stopped her typing to observe the goings on
in RL. "He just stopped by for a visit. We don't know what
else he was doing here." 

Cat nodded in understanding. "I see. And you weren't at all
surprised to see him? I mean, considering where he has
supposedly been the last five years?"

The Gunmen cast wary glances at each other, then, one by
one, they looked at the floor. Katie, who was wondering not
only what they were talking about, but what Frohike had done
with the Ding-Dongs, asked, "If you guys are done talking in
circles, may I ask what the hell is going on?" She directed
her gaze to Melvin, who promptly grimaced and shrugged his
shoulders.

Katie looked at Cat, her eyebrows raised in question. "Fox
Mulder is supposedly dead," Cat said. "But we found out the
other day, by accident, that he is not. These guys have
known all along."

"Not all along!" Byers argued. "We weren't in on it for a
few months. We mourned at their funeral just as hard as you
did."

"Wait a minute!" Katie said. "You guys have been keeping
secrets from the FBI?! Shame on you!" She swatted Frohike's
tummy playfully, then turned back to the computer. "You
better tell me everything tonight, Mel. Sounds like it might
make a good book!"

"You don't know the half of it," Frohike mumbled. "Look,
O'Neil. It wasn't our job to tell you a secret that could
have endangered lives!"

"Yeah, yeah," Cat said. "I've heard this before." She
sighed. "You're not going to tell us why he was here,
either, are you?" 

All three of the Gunmen shook their heads confidently. 

Cat couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think so. Can you at
least answer this: is whatever he came here to do done?"

Again, three pairs of eyes met each others fleetingly. Then
Byers sighed and shook his head negative. "And something
even bigger may be in the works," he said quietly. 

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

"You may not be the only ones who have found out about
them."

Cat cast a worried glance at Justin. "Because of us?"

"I don't know," Byers said. "Maybe. Indirectly." He sighed.
"I don't know."

In a soft but commanding voice, Justin told them, "You know
where to find us if you need us, boys." With that, he and
Cat left the apartment. 

The room went dead silent. 

Then Katie said in a brisk, cheery voice, "So, where are the
Ding-Dongs?"

************************************************************

"Scully's...a much larger problem than you indicated."

"Every problem has a solution."

Episode 2x04-Sleepless

*****

24 hours later

When Mulder and Charlie arrived back in Lincoln, it was well
after dark. They drove in Charlie's pick-up, which had been
left at a friends house in Rapid, straight to Mulder's
house, a good two hour drive. Mulder sped the whole way. It
had taken forever to get from DC back to South Dakota,
especially while making sure they weren't being followed;
Mulder didn't trust Diana.  

The house was dark and quiet. Too quiet. When he stepped out
of the car, no dogs came to greet him. With a frightened
chill running up his back, he ran up to the front door.
Finding it locked, he opened it with his key and slipped
inside, Charlie close behind. Without turning on any lights,
he walked to the closet on the far side of the foyer and
opened the door, finding the flashlight kept there for
emergencies. Flicking the little battery operated object on,
he turned the beam toward the living room. He heard Charlie
gasp, and felt his own blood run cold.

The room had very obviously been turned upside down.
Cushions were pulled off chairs. Tables were overturned. One
glass lamp had fallen to the hardwood floor in front of the
fireplace, its pieces scattered about. With a fiercely
beating heart, Mulder walked over to the mantle of the
fireplace, his eyes searching the pictures lined there.
Several were missing; the pictures of his children no longer
sat there. Whether they had been taken by the people who had
broken in or by Scully, he had no idea. He prayed it was the
later. 

"Shit," he heard Charlie say behind him. The man had taken a
detour into the kitchen when Mulder moved over to the
pictures, and he had come back angry. "They did the same
thing in there," he growled. "My God,
Ian...Mulder...whoever the fuck you are. You weren't
joking when you said they were persistent, were you?"

Lights suddenly shone bright through the front window as a
vehicle pulled up in front of the house. Mulder flicked off
the flashlight immediately, and he and Charlie ducked down
out of sight, moving carefully toward the kitchen. Silently,
they waited.

"Sheriff?" The man's voice was tentative, strained.
"Charlie?" He entered the open front door, his own
flashlight searching the room.

Mulder sighed and stepped out of the kitchen, his arms held
carefully away from his sides so as not to appear
threatening.

Lucas stood in the doorway, his weapon in his right hand,
his flashlight in his left. He pointed both at Mulder as he
came out of the kitchen. The gun immediately lowered as
Lucas gave a sigh of relief. "Sheriff! I thought that looked
like Charlie's truck out there."

"What the hell happened here, Lucas?" Mulder demanded.
"Where's Sara?"

Lucas had reholsted his gun and raised his free hand up in a
gesture meant to slow down Mulder's questions. "We found
this earlier this afternoon. It must have happened the night
before. The dogs and cats were okay, just scared out of
their minds. Kate had a hard time catching Samson; that
little dog can be a bastard. The big dogs had been locked in
the barn. They're all at Kate's now."

"The kids, are they still with Susan?"

Lucas nodded. "She said you had called yesterday, just after
Sara left."

"Where did she go?" Mulder felt his voice crack slightly
with worry.

The deputy shrugged. "No one knows. She wouldn't say. I was
under the impression she was going to meet you somewhere."

Mulder let his head fall back as he groaned. "Damn! She's
probably in DC by now," he said softly to Charlie.

"Great," Charlie answered back sarcastically. "I thought you
two were supposed to be able to read each others minds or
something! Why didn't you know she'd follow you?"

Mulder just glared at him, but he was asking himself the
same question. He knew he hadn't been at his best ever since
his run in with Diana. Suddenly, the dream he had had made
sense. It had been warning him not to be distracted by Diana
while Scully was in danger. Too bad he been late in figuring
it out. 

"This house isn't the only crime scene in the area,
Sheriff." Lucas' voice was soft and worried.

"What do you mean?" Mulder asked.

"A body was found by some hikers up in the Park earlier
today. No identification. But he was wearing a holster, as
if he had been armed. We found no weapon."

"And?" Mulder was getting very nervous.

Lucas sighed. "I recognized it as the same man that had been
following Sara the day before. She told me not to worry
about it, that the fellow was a friend of yours, and that he
was just keeping an eye on her for you." He shook his head.
"I didn't believe her, but what was I gonna do? Call her a
liar?"

"How was he killed?"

"One shot to the chest at close range. Looked like a 9mm,
but we haven't gotten a full report on it, yet. The body's
been taken to Rapid, but it might be a few days before any
results come in." The three men were silent for a while.
Then Lucas spoke again, and his words were some of the most
beautiful words Mulder had ever heard. "What do you want us
to do, Sheriff?" Complete and utter trust filled the young
Lakota's voice. Mulder knew that Lucas was aware of
something dangerous and deadly going on. He probably
suspected that Scully had shot the man up in the Park. He,
and others in town, were probably scared shitless about all
that was going on. But they trusted him and were willing to
help him in anything he asked. It thrilled Mulder knowing he
had such friends when once upon a time he had been almost
completely alone. It also terrified him.

"Lucas, I hearby pronounce you Acting Sheriff of McCloud
County. I place under your protection my children and all
the residents of the County." He waved his arms around the
messy room. "The people who did this are bound to be back,
and they will be looking for me and my wife. Hopefully, they
know nothing about the kids, and I want it to stay that way.
All right?"

Lucas, his eyes wide with fear and excitement, nodded. "Yes,
sir. You have my word. Myself, Susan and the other residents
of Lincoln will keep your family safe."

Mulder nodded, then turned to Charlie. He held out his hand.
"Well, Chief. It's been fun."

"Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute!" Charlie shook his head. "I'm
already a part of this! I'm staying with you, buddy! You
can't do this alone!"

"You don't even know what I'm going to do!" Mulder said,
exasperated.

"Yes, I do," Charlie argued. "You're going to find your
wife, and then you are going to try your hardest to get 
your life back."

Mulder eyed him for a moment. What he said was true, but it
may not be possible. And it was bound to be dangerous. He
looked at Lucas again. "Remington--"

"Has already been here," Lucas interrupted. "He came to look
at the body. I don't know why, but I got the idea he knew
what had happened to the man."

Mulder nodded to his deputy, then he and Charlie left in the
old pick-up. 

"Where to now?" 

Mulder gave the Indian a smile. "I think we better pay a
visit to Agent Remington, don't you?"

*****

End 9/18

Wambli-Part 10/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"...something found me."

"What?"

"Fate. Destiny. Whatever it's called when the choices you
thought you had in life are already made."

Episode 6x12-One Son

*****

It was almost midnight when Scully found the address she had
been looking for. She was exhausted, stressed and
frustrated, and she began to remember why she had not missed
DC. The traffic was horrendous. She'd give anything to be
sitting in her car in the middle of the prairie waiting for
a flock of sheep to cross the road than being stuck in
traffic. But  now she was here, and more than a little
relieved. "Mulder, you better be here," she whispered to
herself, getting out of the car and heading for the worn,
but well-kept, apartment building. 

Climbing the stairs inside the doorway quietly, she kept her
whole body as alert as she possibly could. A woman alone in
a darkened hallway was not a safe thing...even if she was
armed. Finally, she reached her objective, hidden camera and
all. Quickly, she knocked on the door.

She heard the mumbling and grumbling coming from the other
side as several locks were thrown. Not as many as at the old
place, she thought to herself, but still more than your
average city dweller would have. The door flew open,
exposing the shocked faces of Byers and Langly. 

After staring at her for one silent second, both men reached
through the door and pulled her inside, slamming the door
closed behind her.

"Scully!" Byers said, his voice astounded.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Langly said, fear lacing
his voice.

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" she demanded.
"Hasn't Mulder been here?"

"Yeah," Byers said. "Of course he has. But he left last
night."

"For where?"

"To find you," Langly said softly.

Scully felt  her shoulders sag. "Damnit! I told him not to
come for me! I'm sure Susan told him!"

"I'm sure she did, too," Byers confirmed. "But did you
actually think Mulder would listen if he thought you were in
trouble?"

Scully moved further into the room and flopped down on the
couch. "They'll be there waiting for him!" With a heavy
sigh, she let her head rest on the back of the couch,
closing her eyes. Suddenly, they flew open and she stood.
"Phone?"

"Right there," Byers said, pointing out the cordless next to
one of the computers. 

Scully rushed over to it, grabbed it and began dialing. For
a long moment, she listened to it ring. No one answered.
"Shit!" She slammed the phone back down into its cradle,
then looked up at the two men in front of her. They both
wore worried expressions. Whether they were worried for
Mulder, or for their own safety in the aftermath of her
apparent temper tantrum, she didn't know. "Was he going to
contact you soon?"

They both shrugged. "He did say he was coming back to figure
out what to do about the Nihm thing, but not until he knew
what was going on at home." Byers moved closer to her.
"We'll keep trying to reach him, but I'm sure he knows to be
careful. He won't get caught, and when he realizes you came
out here, he'll be back ASAP."

Scully fell onto the couch again, rubbing her hands across
her tired eyes. "You guys got a bed I can pass out on?"

Byers sat next to her. "You can use mine. We'll keep trying
Mulder."

Scully let her hands drop and looked at him, a small smile
on her face. "Thanks," she said softly. "What a reunion,
huh? It's good to see you guys."

Byers smiled back. "It's good to see you, too, Scully."

A sudden knocking on the door made all three jump. Scully
stood quickly and headed for the bathroom. "Unless that's my
husband or Frohike, I'm not here."

"You got it," Langly said as he moved for the door. "What is
this?" he mumbled to himself. "Grand Central Station?" Then
he saw the two people standing outside his door on the
monitor. "Oh, shit!"

Both Scully, who had reached the other side of the room, and
Byers turned to look at him. "What?" Byers asked, walking
quickly over to the monitor. "Oh, no," he said softly,
glancing at Scully.

"What?" Scully demanded. 

Byers shook his head. "Hide."

Scully didn't argue. She ducked into the room, but kept
close to the door so she could hear what was going on. She
heard the door open to admit whoever was in the hallway. She
tried to take a deep, silent breath in hopes of slowing her
pounding heart. Was it someone she knew?

She heard Byers speak first. "Well, this is a surprise. The
fact that you're here, I mean." No response. "What can we do
for you ladies?"

"I'm Dr. Megan Northam," a woman's voice said. "We were
hoping to find Fox Mulder here." 

Scully felt her brow furrow. How did she know about Mulder
having been here? Doctor? Did she have something to do with
this Nihm thing Byers mentioned?

"He's not here anymore," Langly said. "He had more important
things to attend to."

"More important?" the woman said. "He risked exposure to try
to get into my lab and steal my files, yet now he has
something more important to do?" Her voice was incredulous.
"What?"

"Family." Anther woman spoke. Though it was only one word,
and it wasn't very loud, Scully recognized the voice
immediately. She heard it often enough in her nightmares.
"Am I right?" 

Taking a deep breath and ignoring her exhaustion, Scully
stepped out from behind the door. "Yes. That's exactly
right."

Both women had been facing away from her, and at the sound
of her voice they spun around. Dr. Northam's expressive
green eyes widened in astonishment. Diana Fowley's blue ones
narrowed.

"Agent Scully," the tall brunette said. "Fancy meeting you
here. Look's like all us 'dead' people are popping up all
over the place."

"What do you want Mulder for?" Scully asked, her teeth
clenched. She could have happily lived the rest of whatever
kind of life she had left without knowing this woman was
still alive.

Fowley glanced at Northam, then the doctor took a step
closer to Scully. "We need his help. We understand he knows
of an animal that escaped from the Project several years
ago. We believe this animal, an eagle, has information that
could be dangerous. Not only to the Project, but to the
world."

***********************************************************

"Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is
insanity."

Episode 3x07-The Walk

*****

6:15 A.M.
Denny's Diner
Rapid City, SD

Nick Remington was sitting at a corner booth when Charlie
and Mulder arrived. The meeting, which had been arranged
last night after midnight, had been scheduled for 6, but
Mulder and Charlie had waited several minutes before
entering the 50's style restaurant, checking to insure that
Remington hadn't been followed. It wasn't that Mulder didn't
trust the man, though it was hard to trust anyone at this
point; it was because he didn't trust who Remington might be
working with. Namely, the senior agent here in Rapid, a 20
year veteran by the name of Richard Turner. Mulder had known
the man when he had been a profiler, and Turner was, and
always would be, 'old school': against women and minorities
in the Bureau, a stickler for protocol, and a hard-ass
extraordinare. Mulder wanted nothing to do with the man.

With unusual precision, Mulder and Charlie slipped in
opposite doors of the diner and converged on the table where
Remington sat, surprising the man, but not frightening him.
One point for him, Mulder thought. Mulder slid easily into
the booth next to him and Charlie sat across from them. 

Remington eyed them both for a moment, then took a casual
sip of his coffee. He nodded toward Charlie. "Chief Yellow
Hawk." Then he turned to Mulder. "Agent Mulder."

Mulder gave him a impertinent grin. "Did you figure that out
on your own, or did you get assistance from my wife?"

Remington flushed slightly and looked down at the cup in his
hands. "There is no telling if I would have ever figured it
out on my own, even with the fact that your wife was so
familiar to me." He looked over at the former agent. "I
never met you personally...but I sure remember the
stories."

"I'm sure you do." Mulder stopped and looked up at the
approaching waitress. He and Charlie both ordered coffee,
and after they were served and the young woman left, turned
back to Remington. "The man they found dead out in the
Badlands yesterday. Who was he?"

Remington raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think I
know?"

"I'm assuming you found out through the same source that
told you who I was." He kept his eyes fixed on Remington's.

"You think your wife had something to do with this man's
death?"

Mulder didn't reply. But he also didn't stop staring at the
agent. 

Despite his cool reserve, Remington was starting to get
unnerved by that stare. He looked down again. "He was CIA,
officially. But we're pretty much convinced he wasn't
working just for them. He apparently came out to make sure
Cat and Monroe didn't find out anything about your eagle. He
found you wife by mistake." 

"We?" Remington looked up at Mulder's question, his
expression confused. "You said *we* were pretty much
convinced."

"Your wife and I."

"Where is she?" Mulder felt his voice grow hard as he tried
to cover up his worry.

Remington started to laugh. "She went looking for you, you
idiot!"

Mulder closed his eyes, hiding the frustration that had
swamped him at Remington's words. Across from him, Charlie
groaned. "Figures," the Indian mumbled.

With a soft curse, Mulder pulled out his cell phone, which
had been turned off to save the batteries. Quickly, he
turned it on and dialed up the Gunmen's number. He waited
impatiently, his finger tapping the table. Remington and
Charlie just watched him, amusement on both of their faces. 

Finally, a tired sounding Byers answered. "Lone Gunmen."

"I can't believe you guys still answer the phone like that!"
Mulder said.

"Mulder?!" 

"Is she there?"

"Yeah! Hold on!"

Mulder let out a sigh of relief, and unknown to him, so did
both Charlie and Remington.

"Mulder?!"

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face at
the sound of her voice. "Hey," he said softly. "What the
hell are you doing in DC?" His voice was the complete
opposite of his words, calm and relaxed. "Who's taking care
of my kids?"

He heard Scully sigh deeply. "You know very well where the
kids are and why I'm in DC. But then again, maybe you don't,
seeing as you didn't listen to Susan when she told you not
to go back home." Mulder had to bite his lower lip to keep
from arguing with her. "Where are you?" she asked.

"I'm sitting in a corner booth of a restaurant on 8th Street
in Rapid with a certain Indian Police Chief and an FBI agent
of your recent acquaintance."

"You're with Remington?"

"Yeah. He thought it was pretty funny how we missed each
other, you leaving to find me as I came back looking for
you." He glared at the agent as he said this. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. Ignoring Mulder's soft 'of course,'
she continued. "Tired...and a little concerned."

"Concerned? Why should you be concerned? The dark forces of
the United States Government have realized two of their
worst enemies, whom they believed were dead, are still
alive. What's to be concerned about?"

"That's not the only thing I'm worried about," Scully
replied, still ignoring his sarcasm. "You remember Wambli?
You know, the eagle that started this whole mess?"

"Yeah," he said, drawling the word. "What about her?"

Scully was silent for a moment. "I met someone last night
who told me something about her that we didn't know."

Mulder felt ice move through his veins. "What?" He really
wanted to ask 'who?', but first things first.

"I think you better wait until you get back here, first.
Then you can talk to Dr. Northam yourself." 

Mulder didn't stop to analyze why he felt so relived to hear
she had talked to Northam. "Okay," he responded.

"And if you can, you better bring Wambli back with you."

Mulder felt his mouth open in astonishment. "Now, wait a
minute! This whole thing started because she didn't want to
go back. Now you want me to bring her there?"

"Mulder, just trust me on this. We need her back here."

"We?" Mulder asked incredulously. "Who told you this?
Northam?"

"No," Scully said softly. "Diana."

Mulder sat stunned for a moment. Then, in a voice as cold as
a Dakota blizzard, said, "You spent how many stressful hours
of your life years ago trying to convince me not to trust
that woman, and now you want me to take her word on this?"
He clenched his teeth to keep from yelling out a curse.

"Mulder, she showed me something you need to see, something
that makes me believe her. Please, just try and get the
eagle here."

"What about this spook you shot?" His voice, he discovered,
was still cold.

She was silent for a long moment. He was about to say her
name when she spoke, a tremor in her voice. "It was
self-defense."

"God, Scully! I know that!" The fear and sadness in her
voice tore him up. "Scully? Come on, babe. Stay with me
here."

He heard her take a deep breath. "I cleaned house
afterwards. Pictures. Clothes. I left it all at Susan's. But
it may not be enough. Mulder, we have to finish this...for
Fox and Marissa's sake."

"And you think this thing with Wambli will finish it?"

"Yes," she whispered. "It might even get our lives back."

Mulder couldn't for the life of him figure out how they
could ever get their lives back, but he had faith that
Scully knew what she was doing. Before he could say another
word, he looked up to see another familiar face enter the
diner. Charlie's 'oh, shit' across from him echoed his own
thoughts. "Scully, I gotta go. I'll do my best to get Wambli
out there, but it's not gonna be easy if she's not willing
to go. Just promise me you'll STAY THERE!"

She laughed softly. "I promise. Be careful."

"I will. And please, please, don't kill Diana." His voice
held a touch of humor...but only a touch.

"I'll do my best," she responded in kind. "Love you."

"Love you, too." He disconnected, then looked up to face the
new addition, who had moved to stand next to their table. He
looked at Remington, whose eyes were glued to the table in
front of him, and then at Charlie, who was watching their
visitor with wide, innocent eyes. Mulder turned his own eyes
up again.

"Mind if I join you?" Alicia Chase asked, a smile on her
face, a glower in her eye.

************************************************************

"Don't you see? We're all in hell. I'm the only one who
knows it."

Episode 6x15-Monday

*****

Ft. Marlene, Maryland
Project Nihm

Scully had been invited to meet the subjects of Project
Nihm. 

The invitation had been bestowed by Dr. Northam, though
Fowley was tagging along. Scully wasn't too comfortable with
the idea of spending time with Mulder's ex, but she was very
curious about the project, and knew the opportunity to view
it in depth was rare indeed. Top Secret government projects
tend not to give out public tours. Though she didn't trust
Diana any farther than she could spit (which wasn't very
far), she felt the honesty and sincerity in Megan Northam
like it was a palpable thing. Megan was a scientist, and was
far more fascinated in the discovery of things than in
destruction or domination.

Scully's natural instinct was to rebel at the thought of
testing animals. Though she had worked with lab rats and
mice in medical school, she had never approved of
non-essential testing. If it didn't have the incentive of
possibly saving human lives, she would have been against it
completely. Knowing little about Nihm, she wasn't about to
broadcast her opinions until she was better informed. But
she couldn't see how making animals as smart or smarter than
humans accomplished anything other than enlarging the ego of
the initiators.

When she entered the lab with the two other women, one of
the handlers, or 'teachers' as Megan called them, was
working with a young female wolf called The Lady.
Apparently, she was the daughter of one of the Project's
success stories, Taryn. The Lady's father had been a normal,
untested gray wolf, but thanks to Taryn's DNA manipulation,
The Lady had been born with above average intelligence. She
didn't appear to be as smart as her mother, but was very
intelligent nonetheless. Scully was doubtful; Charlie had
long ago told her stories of how smart wolves were and had
always been. Their natural intelligence had long been
underestimated by most people. Most Native American tribes
had learned to respect the wolf because of their
similarities to humans. It wasn't until Europeans arrived
with their tales of 'Little Red Riding Hood' that the wolf
came to symbolize evil in America, and was promptly
exterminated. Recently, the government had been attempting
to reintroduce the wolf into the lower forty-eight states.
Charlie, as well as many other Lakota, had been trying to
bring the governments attention toward the Black Hills. With
thousands of acres of wild forest land, two species of deer,
Bighorn and Mountain Goats, as well as much smaller game,
Paha Sapa was the perfect environment for the wolf. But, of
course, the local ranchers and hunters saw things
differently.

The Lady's teacher was a young woman named Tami. The two sat
together in the training room, which was a large, circular
room just off the main lab, with rubber mats on the floor,
and a one-way mirror that allowed people in the lab to
observe their activities. Tami was sitting on the floor with
large, white tiles with big, black shapes on them. She was
asking The Lady to distinguish between the shapes by having
the wolf nudge the star shape whenever two tiles were held
up. When Tami held up two tiles, neither of which was the
star, The Lady sat quietly, looking at her like she was
crazy.

Scully wasn't impressed. "I've seen this same testing
procedure done with horses," she said softly. "Most of them
passed the test, too, and I believe their intelligence level
isn't nearly as high as a wolf's."

"Yes, but The Lady is young," Megan said with a smile.
"She's not even a year old yet. And, just like with human
children, she had to start at the beginning. Human children
aren't born knowing how to read and write. Their IQ is based
not on if they can learn, but how much and how quickly. We
judge the 'children' here by the same criteria." She looked
at the two figures in the room. "Taryn was our first
successful subject after the procedure was changed," Megan
said softly. She had told Scully about the change last
night, when she had explained about Wambli. The testing
procedure that had originally been a success had also been
dangerous, and all the subjects but Wambli, who had been
called Dawn back then, had died. After Dawn's escape, they
had assumed she had died, too. "Taryn's IQ is equivalent to
mine. If, with The Lady, we can prove that the altered DNA
can be passed on through the offspring...well, let's just
say it would be wonderful."

"Why?" Scully asked, still not clear on the motive behind
the testing. "Why is it necessary to change the way things
were meant to be? Because you enjoy playing God?"

Megan seemed startled by Scully's questions. "Of course not!
We are not trying to be God."

"You could have fooled me," Scully said softly. "I see no
reason, scientific or otherwise, to be doing this. What is
going to become of your successes? Are they going to somehow
become members of human society? Doubtful. Or are they going
to spend the rest of their lives here, playing games behind
one-way-mirrors?"

Dr. Northam stood stock still, a stunned expression on her
face. "I...I guess I haven't thought that far ahead." Her
voice was soft, almost timid.

"You haven't thought that far ahead?" Scully was getting
angry now. Yet, she understood Megan's ignorance; working on
an amazing project like this was bound to warp the mind into
thinking of nothing but the project. Single minded and set
on one goal, Dr. Northam wasn't the only scientist to create
without really thinking about the final outcome of that
creation. A certain man by the name of Robert Oppenheimer
came to mind.

"You may not have thought that far ahead," Scully said to
the doctor. "But I bet others have." She looked over at
Diana, who had been standing silent in the back of the room.
"What is it Fowley? Military? Defense? Will these animals be
trained to spy for us? Or even fight?"

Diana stood there, a small, secret smile on her face. "What
makes you think I know anything about 'their' plans, Scully?
Even before my 'death', I wasn't always in the loop."

Scully walked toward her, more than a little pleased when
Diana's eyes turned nervous. "So my being here is just a
coincidence?" she asked. "This little tour I'm being giving
is just a way to keep me busy until my husband," she was
sure to emphasize 'husband', "arrives with Wambli? Or should
I say Dawn?"

"Why else, Agent Scully?" 

Though she hadn't been an agent in years, the title still
sounded right to Scully's ears. She shrugged. "I don't know.
All I know is that a CIA agent was sent to trail me, hoping
to find Mulder, and then most probably, he was told to kill
us. And now, here I stand, in a CIA operated facility. I
find that ironic, don't you?"

Diana's brow had furrowed at Scully's words. "They know?"
she asked, and her confusion seemed genuine. "They know
you're alive?"

Scully felt her heart begin beating even faster at the
realization that Diana didn't even know she and Mulder's
cover had been blown. The older woman had obviously not been
in the loop this time around.

A smallish man in a lab coat and wire-rimmed glasses peeked
in from the hallway. "Dr. Northam? You're wanted in
operations."

"Thank you, Damon." The doctor turned toward the door. "I'm
sorry," she said to Scully. "If you'll excuse me?"

Scully nodded automatically, then turned back to Diana, who
still looked worried, though not about Scully anymore.

"You didn't know," Scully said. It wasn't a question.

Diana shook her head. "But if someone from the CIA knows,
then he will, too."

"Who?"

Before Diana could answer, four armed guards came in through
the door Megan Northam had just disappeared through. They
trained their weapons on both Scully and Diana. "Ladies, if
you wouldn't mind coming with us?" Though the Sergeant asked
politely, Scully knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. 

She looked over at Diana, who really looked worried now.
"Spender," she said quietly, then proceeded to allow the
guards to escort her out. Scully had no choice but to
follow.

*****

End 10/18

Wambli-Part 11/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"How can an eight-year-old boy who can barely multiply be a
threat to National Security? And people call me paranoid!"

Episode 1x03-Conduit

*****

Wambli was beginning to get very impatient.

The witch woman had visited a few days ago to tell her all
would be well, the wasicu and the Indian cop were working on
a way for her to remain free and unaccosted. Wambli wanted
desperately to believe this was true, and so she had waited.
For nearly a week, she had waited. She was tired of waiting.

Though she was kept as other captive birds of prey, tied
outside on her leash with shade and water within reach, she
was not as content as a normal eagle would have been. Most
birds fly for only three reasons: for food, to migrate, and
to find and win a mate. In captivity, the food situation is
not a problem. Because of this, there is no need to migrate,
either. And companionship is usually taken care of as well,
even if it is in the form of humans. Most raptors settle in
to captivity well, though by definition, the only captive
raptors should be those raised in captivity or those with
some handicap that prevents them from living in the wild.
Simply put, if all their needs are met, they have no desire
to fly. They have no fond memories of soaring above the
clouds; or of diving at speeds unknown to man outside of a
machine. 

But Wambli did.

When Wasichu finally came back, he seemed very nervous, and
Wambli was convinced he had failed and was afraid to tell
her this. But what he ended up telling her was even more
worrisome. He wanted her to go back to Maryland...with
him. He would protect her, he said, and he would find a way
to bring her home as soon as he could. His wife, the
red-haired woman who had been with him on his last visit,
had asked this of him, and though he wasn't sure on the
details, he trusted her enough to do as she asked. Wambli
didn't trust her. But she wanted to trust him.

She considered her options. She could refuse to go and
request to be released, risking capture by the men she was
hiding from. She knew asking to be released in itself was
risky, as there was no way to tell if Wasichu would let her
go. If not, she would have to fight him, possibly causing
injury to herself and all those who tried to stop her. The
last option, the one she liked the least, was to agree to go
with him. Though she hated the thought of giving up, knowing
the men from Nihm wouldn't give up until she was captured or
dead gave her no real choice. After a long time to
contemplate her choices, Wambli decided to go with Wasichu,
putting her future in his hands.

************************************************************

"I'll build the ark, you gather the animals."

Episode 6x07-The Rain King

*****

It wasn't easy getting an eagle shipped by air from South
Dakota to Maryland, especially when you were trying not to
attract too much attention. But with Remington, and now
Chase, helping, they were able to get on a flight leaving
Rapid around 5:30 in the morning. With a stop and plane hop
in Minneapolis, the flight would land in Baltimore at about
2 in the afternoon. Mulder and Charlie would then rent a van
and drive to DC. They would take Wambli to Byers and
Langly's place, then find out the details of this 'plan'.
Mulder would not just give Wambli to her former captors; he
needed to know why first.

Wambli was amazingly calm. She had barely seemed to fit into
the large dog kennel, but she could turn around easily
enough. Mulder had to remind himself that she was made up
mostly of feathers. Charlie was worried that the eagle would
break a tail feather or a primary wing feather, both of
which might be harmful to Wambli; she needed every one of
those important feathers if she was to fly again. Damaging
just one would affect her coordination and speed during
flight. Mulder told him that Wambli was most likely aware of
this and would be careful. But now he began to worry as
well. After all, the eagle had to ride in the cargo space of
the plane, and they would have only limited contact with her
in Minneapolis before getting her back in Baltimore.

Other than the slightly bumpy ride just outside of Rapid,
which was almost always in existence thanks to the
unreliable air currents coming off the Black Hills, the
flight to Minnesota went smoothly. The wait at the
Minneapolis airport seemed to take forever. They were
allowed to visit Wambli for a short time before being loaded
onto their next flight. They were taking a risk letting her
out of their sight, but they felt a bit more comfortable
that, at Remington's suggestion, they had listed her as a
young Bald Eagle instead of a Golden Eagle. Since Bald
Eagles didn't get their white head until they were about
four or five years old, nobody except the most diligent of
bird lovers would be able to tell them apart. 

They finally made it to Baltimore. While Charlie retrieved
the mini-van, which had already been reserved and paid for
by Remington, Mulder retrieved Wambli. He looked in on the
eagle, bending over to look through the metal screened door,
and was greeted with a loud screech and a hiss.

"She's been like that the whole way," said the attendant who
helped them load the crate in the back of the van, which
Charlie had driven around to the loading zone. "Mean bitch.
It is a girl, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Mulder answered. "She's just tired. Needs to get out
and stretch her wings."

Due to traffic, they didn't arrive at the Gunmen's until
around 4. Wambli didn't make a sound the whole way. 

Mulder called ahead, talking to Byers, who told them they
would be ready. Frohike and Langly were waiting at the curb
when they pulled up. Excitement pouring through him, Mulder
directed the men as they carried their live cargo to the
elevator, and then to the apartment. A tall red-head was
waiting just inside door, which was being held open by
Byers. Carefully, the crate was set on the floor. 

Mulder let his eyes scan the room as Wambli began, for the
first time, to beat against the side of the crate. He opened
his mouth to ask the inevitable question, but Charlie spoke
first.

"Get her outta there before she breaks something!" 

Spurred on by his words, Mulder grabbed the eagle glove that
had been strapped to the top of the crate, and pulled it on
his left arm. The four layers of leather covered his whole
arm almost up to the elbow. He had received a crash course
in eagle handling by Billy Moran, and had even read through
a book about falconry on the flight. And though he knew this
eagle could be reasoned with like a human, he was still
nervous. Carefully, he leaned down in front of the crate,
opened the door, and held his arm out with his forearm
horizontal from the ground and parallel to his body. 

Wambli strode out of the crate, raised her hackles, then
hopped out onto the glove in front of her. Mulder stood...
and nearly fell back down on his knees.

Charlie laughed. The Gunmen and the woman, whom Mulder
assumed was Katie, stood staring, their mouths hanging open.
Mulder had known the bird weighed a good 15 pounds, but he
hadn't realized that 15 pounds on only one arm could be so
heavy. It didn't help that Wambli was gripping him arm
through the glove, showing him her displeasure by squeezing
him with her powerful talons.

"All right, all right, all right!" Mulder gasped. "I get the
picture. You didn't like it in there!"

The squeezing stopped, and the bird readjusted her stance on
the glove, widening her feet so that her right foot sat
close to Mulder's elbow and her left on his fist. This
evened out her weight a bit more, and she didn't seem as
heavy. Then she spread her wings, causing  both Charlie and
Byers to step back out of their range. Starting slowly, then
speeding up, she began to flap them, stretching them,
getting the blood pumping through them once again. Her grip
on his arm tightened again, and he realized it was so her
body didn't lift off her perch. As it was, Mulder felt his
arm lifted slightly, her weight almost disappearing as she
'flew'. Papers and other loose, light objects went flying as
the wind kicked up by her pumping wings got stronger. Mulder
felt a huge grin spread across his face, and he heard Katie
laugh in enjoyment.

Finally, the eagle stopped her exercise and folded in her
wings once again. Mulder brought his elbow in toward his
body, leaning it, and therefore Wambli's weight, on his hip.
Then he looked at Byers' smiling face. "Where's Scully?"

Byers' smile immediately disappeared.

************************************************************

"You can't ask the truth from a man who deals in lies."

Episode 4x15-Memento Mori

*****

Former Special Agents Dana Scully and Diana Fowley sat side
by side, nervously watching the tall man they had been
brought to pace the floor in front of them. He hadn't said a
word since they had been escorted into the tiny office on
the top floor of an old, antiquated building off Sherman
Street over ten minutes before. But they could tell he was
angry. 

Cigarette smoke filled the air, and Scully had to repress
the urge to cough. As much as she tried to tell herself she
wasn't afraid of this man, the truth of the matter was, she
was terrified. She had always been frightened of him, but
had managed to keep that fact to herself for years. It
didn't matter that she hadn't seen him in over five years.
Nor did it matter that he looked far older than five years
of aging would normally allow. He still had power. Terrible
power. 

Only today, the man known as C.G.B. Spender seemed scared.
He glanced at his guests from time to time, glowering at
them from under heavy, grey brows. Finally, he stopped and
turned to face them. Scully felt herself tense, and knew
that the woman next to her had also stiffened in
anticipation. He stared at them for a long while, then shook
his head sadly. Taking another puff of the cigarette in his
hand, he turned and left the office.

Scully felt her mouth open in confusion as she watched him
leave. After the door closed behind Cancer Man, she turned
to Diana. "What the hell was that all about?"

Diana looked at her for a moment, the shrugged and stood.
Scully watched as she walked over to a small window on the
far side of the room.

Scully sighed, then said, more to herself than to the other
woman, "Why do I have the feeling he was more scared than
angry? And that it is himself he's scared for, not us?"

"You're probably right," Diana said, turning to face her.
"He and Creswell risked their lives by helping you and
Mulder five years ago."

"Creswell?" Scully was pretty sure who Fowley meant, but
asked anyway.

"The Englishman who helped fake your deaths. He died over a
year ago, but his presence is still felt within the
Consortium."

Scully felt a moments regret at the death of the man Mulder
had called the Well-Manicured Man. Though not a friend, he
had always seemed to be on Mulder and Scully's side on many
occasions. He, Spender and Alex Krycek had all been involved
in the car bombing ploys that had helped disguise her and
Mulder's escape. Scully had never known who else was
involved, but she had known that the three man had been
helping them against the orders of the rest of the
Syndicate, who had wanted them dead.

"I can understand why he's nervous that the Syndicate has
discovered Mulder and I are still alive, but why are you
here?" Scully asked the other woman.

Diana looked out the window. "I assume he discovered that I
had known Mulder was here and didn't tell him. He's probably
just pissed at me." She looked over at Scully again. "The
Syndicate discovered I was still alive two years ago.
Spender talked them into letting me live, but he was
threatened and demoralized by the experience. I suppose he's
afraid the same thing will happen now that you and Mulder
have been found out. Only it will be worse this time; you
and Mulder are more of a danger to them than I ever was."
She looked back out the window. "Both of you are still
marked for death...and now, Spender will be, too."

Scully felt a laugh rise from her throat. "Spender won't
die. He can't. You can't kill the devil."

"You still call him that, even after everything he did for
you?" Diana walked toward her. "He gave you the last five
years of your life, Dana."

Scully didn't comment. Diana's last statement was true, and
Scully hated that fact. She also hated hearing her first
name come from Diana's lips. She felt herself stand and walk
past the taller woman to the same little window, looking out
curiously; it was a wonderful view of the building next
door...and nothing else.

"How did you get involved in this anyway, Agent Scully?"
Diana asked from behind her. "Was a quiet, peaceful life too
boring for you?"

Scully turned toward her, her eyes flashing. "I didn't want
to be involved in this," she said. "If that CIA man hadn't
been following O'Neil and Justin and found me, I never would
have left my children or my home."

Scully couldn't help but see the surprise in Diana's eyes.
"Children? You have children?"

Folding her arms across her chest, Scully stepped closer.
"You didn't know?"

Diana shook her head. "Spender told me you and Mulder had
been 'saved' like me," she stated. "But, he told me nothing
about where you went or what you were doing. I wasn't even
sure if you were together, but I guessed by the ring that
Mulder was wearing that you were." She gave Scully a wry
smile. "As much as I hated to admit it, I could tell he
loved you from the moment I first saw you together." Her
smile faded. "I didn't know you had children. I thought you
were..." She didn't continue.

"Barren?" 

Diana looked at the floor. "Yes."

Scully was silent for a while. Did she really want to
discuss her personal life with this woman? Finally, she
said, "Miracles happen."

Diana looked up. "Fox found your ova?"

"Some, yes."

The brunette sat heavily on one of the office chairs. "How
many?" When Scully's brow furrowed, Diana elaborated. "How
many kids?"

"Two. A boy and a girl."

Diana nodded. "I understand that the longer the ova are
frozen, the less viable they become. You must have been
lucky to get pregnant twice."

Scully felt her eyes drop to the floor. "Three times,
actually. I miscarried our second child at four months." She
remembered the day as if it was yesterday rather than three
years ago. Because the ova Mulder had 'rescued' did indeed
loose their viability as they aged, they had decided to try
for child number two less that a year after Fox had been
born, shortly after having settled in Lincoln. There had
been no determined cause for the natural abortion, and
Scully had physically healed just fine. But she had been too
scared to try it again; she didn't want to suffer more
heartbreak. Finally, after many late night discussions with
her husband, they had tried again. "It took three attempts
before Marisa was conceived," she said softly, not knowing
why she was telling Diana this.

"Marisa?" Diana smiled slightly. "And the boy?"

Scully walked over to the desk and leaned back against it.
"Fox."

Diana laughed. "I'll bet you had a hard time getting him to
name his son that!"

"It took a bit of coaxing, but I managed," Scully said with
a smile.

"Good," Diana said with a nod. "It's a good name. One that
little boy should be proud of."

Scully felt her smile fade. "Yes," she said softly. "What's
going to happen to us, Diana?"

The other woman's smile also disappeared. "I don't know,
Dana. I really don't know."

They looked at each other for a while, both feeling slightly
shocked that they had actually spent the past few minutes in
pleasant conversation. Then Diana stood. "What I do know, is
that when Fox finds out you're missing, he's going to get
very angry." She paused. "And an angry Fox Mulder is not a
good thing."

************************************************************

"I've got my own set of problems now, thank you."

Episode 3x08-Oubliette

*****

Ft. Marlene, Maryland

Mulder was not really surprised when he was allowed past the
Ft. Marlene security without question, even if he had been
kicked out of the place a few days earlier; he had a feeling
he was expected. But when a lovely woman of middle age
strode down the hallway to meet him, her brown hair held
tightly back in a bun, a white lab coat covering a flower
print sun-dress, her face full of concern, he was surprised.

"Fox Mulder?" the woman asked him as she drew near.

"Yes," Mulder responded, stopping to let the woman come to
him. "Dr. Northam, I presume?"

Megan Northam stopped in front of him, her green eyes wide.
She nodded, then with a soft curse, turned away. "Please
follow me." She began walking up the hall without looking
back.

With a grimace, Mulder followed. She lead him up to the same
floor he and Charlie had found the lab on, but took him to
an office instead of the actual laboratory. There, she
turned to face him again. "Do you have Dawn?"

Dawn? She must mean Wambli. He folded his arms across his
chest. "First things first, Doctor. Where's my wife?"

Northam lowered her eyes. With a sigh, she said, "I don't
know."

Mulder let his arms drop as he leaned menacingly toward her.
"What do you mean, you don't know? She came here earlier
today for some kind of tour, given by you. Isn't that so?"

Northam looked up again, nodding her head. "Yes. Diana and I
showed her the facilities this morning."

"Diana? Great!" he said under his breath as he leaned back.
"And?"

"And I was called away to answer some questions in
Operations. Questions that seemed very trite. When I got
back to the lab, they were both gone. No one will tell me
anything, but I'm almost sure they didn't leave on their
own."

Mulder felt himself walk over to Northam's desk, casually
glancing down at it. "Why was it so important for me to get
the eagle here?"

"Is she?"  

Mulder looked at her, a grin on his face. But there was no
humor in his eyes. "You first."

Northam sighed. "Dawn is the last of the original test
subjects. All the others died. I had assumed she had died as
well, though her file was still open. I wasn't here back
then, so I never worked with her directly."

"How did the others die?" 

The doctor bit her lip, then answered. "As I told your wife,
the DNA they used back then contained the alien virus. It
was the only way. We couldn't isolate it."

"So all the subjects were infected with the virus?"

"Yes," Northam whispered. "I understand you know what the
virus does?"

Mulder nodded. "How did Wam--, the eagle survive?"

Northam shrugged. "All we know is that they all lived for
quite a while as carriers. They didn't become infected until
later. I assume Dawn never did become infected. But she is
most likely still a carrier."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that her blood and saliva could carry the virus.
She hasn't bitten you, has she?"

Mulder felt blood begin to rush in his ears. "No. Of course
not." Wambli could have passed on the virus? It was a
frightening thought. Though he was immune, 99.9% of the
population wasn't. "Even as a carrier, would the vaccine
help her?"

Northam shook her head. "Our vaccine can only kill the virus
within the first few days of infection."

"The first few days *after* infection," Mulder clarified.
"But she isn't infected. She is a carrier."

Northam bit her lip again, and Mulder realized how
distracting it was. She reminded him of a teenage girl who
had stayed out past curfew and was now bracing for a lecture
from her parents. "I don't know," she finally said. "Our
vaccine is very unpredictable. We haven't had need to use it
in years."

"What about Hendrickson's vaccine?"

Her eyes widened. "I didn't think that existed. I thought it
was a myth."

Mulder smiled. "It's no myth," he told her. He had gotten
hold of the vaccine created by Dr. David Hendrickson five
years ago, and it had been the final straw for the
Syndicate; they had wanted him dead, and the vaccine in
their hands. Instead, he and Scully had secreted it away
and, with the help of Dr. Chloe Wood, had the vaccine
successfully replicated and hidden away. Only five people
knew where the several hidden stashes were. He and his wife,
Dr. Wood, and the current agents in charge of the X-Files.
"If I could get a hold of some of Hendrickson's vaccine,
could we try it on Wambli?"

"Wambli?" Northam tilted her head.

"Dawn. It's what she has since named herself."

The doctor raised her chin. "I suppose it's worth a try. If
she wasn't carrying the virus anymore, it's possible my
superiors will leave her alone." She looked at Mulder
intently. "And that's what you want, isn't it?"

Mulder nodded. "I promised her I'd help her. And she doesn't
want to come back here."

Northam looked sad for a moment, and Mulder wondered if she
was thinking about all the other animals under her care.
"Okay," she said finally. "I think we should try it."

"All right," Mulder nodded again. "I'll get you the
vaccine...on one condition."

"What?"

"You help me find my wife."

*****

End 11/18

Wambli-Part 12/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Working with these people, it starts driving you crazy,
too."

Episode 4x22-Elegy

*****

Alex Krycek watched as the man before him paced. He was
enjoying the show, he had to admit. Watching Spender slowly
loose his mind was entertaining, as long as he kept control
of himself and didn't follow the bastard over the edge.
Which was highly possible with all that had been going on
in the last several days. Ever since the Syndicate had
discovered that Mulder and Scully were still alive.

The last five years had been relatively quiet without the
two persistent FBI agents digging around. Not that Monroe
and O'Neil weren't good at their job, they just didn't have
Mulder's passion or Scully's loyalty backing them up. Mr.
and Mrs. Spooky were a hard act to follow. Besides, the new
Syndicate didn't have as much to do as the old one did. The
aliens they had long ago made a deal with had backed off.
Little to no communication had been achieved in five years.
They knew the vaccine was out there. They knew an invasion
now would not succeed. But with Mulder and Scully back,
they, too, might show up and join the party. Damn. Just when
life was getting easy.

The old man was scared. The Syndicate had not been happy
with him after finding out about Fowley. They would be even
less pleased now. And if they decided Spender had to die,
there wasn't much Alex could do to stop it. Hell, he
wouldn't mind helping them do it, despite the fact that
Spender had treated him well in recent years. He wasn't just
an errand boy anymore; he had some semblance of power. The
Syndicate listened to him. They took him seriously. And he
knew he would never have achieved that kind of recognition
if it hadn't been for the man in front of him. Spender had
supported him. Had even seemed to trust him on occasion,
which still amazed him. When he had been asked to help fake
Mulder and Scully's deaths years ago, he had been surprised;
it was no secret he could do without the two agents, despite
his admiration for Mulder and his natural attraction to
Scully. But he had helped. And he had not regretted it.

With Creswell dead, the finger pointing would be directed at
Spender. But Spender might incriminate him. Krycek knew he
could always fall back on the 'I was under orders' ploy, but
even that might not save him.

"Alex," the man finally said, stopping his pacing, but not
his smoking, to look at him. "I need you to do something for
me."

"What?" Krycek was no fool. He would find out what the man
wanted before saying yes or no, though he instinctively
wanted to say no.

"The children. I need you to find them."

"What children?" Krycek was curious now.

"Mulder's children. He has two, but I don't know where they
have been hiding since both their parents have come back to
DC."

Mulder and Scully had kids? Krycek was more than a little
shocked by this news. "Why do you want to find them?" He
would never admit it out loud, but the thought of harming
small children disgusted even him.

Spender sighed. "I want you to find them and bring them to
me." 

Krycek opened his mouth to refuse, but Spender interrupted
him.

"They need to be protected," he said sharply. "If the
Syndicate finds out about them, they may be in danger. They
know both Mulder and Scully are immune. They will want to
know if the children are, too."

"And you don't?" Krycek asked.

"It doesn't matter to me whether they are or not. I just
want them to be safe."

"And you really think they will be safe with you?" Krycek
stood and walked over to the old man. "What makes you think
they won't be just fine right where they are?"

"I can protect them," Spender continued. "I need to protect
them." His eyes had gone wild.

Krycek backed up a step. He wasn't going to ask why the man
was so intent on protecting the children; he felt that he
already knew. "They will be safer where they are," Krycek
said, keeping his voice calm. Trying to get the old man to
see reason. "I'll find them. I'll make sure they're safe.
And I'll look out for them. But I won't bring them here."

Spender stared at him hard for a long moment. Then, with a
heavy sigh, he nodded his head. "You do that, Alex. You keep
them safe. They are, after all, our future."

Krycek was silent for a while. Then he asked, "What about
Scully and Fowley?"

"They must be protected, too," Spender said softly, and
Krycek knew without a doubt that the old man had finally
lost it. "I have sent them away. Where no one will find
them."

"And Mulder?"

A wide smile spread across Spender's face. "Mulder. Ah, yes.
He is too important for them to kill. I'll make sure they
are aware of that. Maybe...maybe, they'll even let him
take my place after I'm gone."

Krycek had known the man before him for more than ten years
now, and never had he seen the bastard this illogical. He
knew his life was over, that the Syndicate was about to wipe
him out of existence. Yet, he hoped that Mulder, who had
been the Syndicate's worst nightmare for over a decade,
would become a part of the whole? Krycek knew Mulder had
already turned down a similar offer years ago. What would
Spender use to entice the man this time? And would it work? 

************************************************************

"It comes down to a matter of trust. I guess it always has."

Episode 6x01-The Beginning

*****

"You know, you have got some nerve! I hope you realize that
when Spender finds out about this, your ass will be on the
street, bared to the world and freezing!"

Scully's eyebrows shot up at Diana Fowley's comment to their
guard, but she kept quiet. She had already decided that
heckling these expressionless men would do no good. They
were automatons, only able to follow orders given to them by
specific people, totally ignoring anything anyone else did
or said. Fowley obviously hadn't figured that out, yet.

"Life as you know it will disappear when he finds I'm
missing," the dark haired woman continued. "If you think..."

"Miss Fowley," the man said as he walked toward the door,
surprising both women. "Mr. Spender is the one who asked
that you and Miss Scully be brought here. He says it's for
your protection. Now, if you would please just relax and
cooperate, I think we'd all be a whole lot happier." With
that, the man left the two startled women, locking the door
behind him.

They had been brought here this morning, to this three room
cabin in the middle of nowhere, after having driven all
night. Scully had no idea whether they had gone north, south
or west, so she couldn't even begin to guess where they
might be. But she did know, thanks to the generous amount of
food stored here, that they were expected to stay a long
while. 

Diana's shock only lasted for a while. "Protection, my ass!
I don't need protection! They already know I'm alive." She
walked the length of the long, front room, bending over to
look out the small window into the trees beyond. Just as she
bent over, an armed guard walked by the window. One of many,
Scully assumed. Diana stood straight and glared at Scully,
as if it was all her fault. "Why the hell am *I* here?"

Scully shrugged and moved over to the old, ratty couch in
the middle of the room. "Hey, how should I know? He's your
confidant, not mine."

Diana opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. With a
sigh, she walked over to the other side of the couch. She
looked as if she was about to sit, then noticed Scully's
glare. With a twist to her lips, she moved over to an old
rocking chair instead, dusting off the seat before sitting
on it.

"Now what?"

Scully leaned her head back against the cushions behind her
and closed her eyes. Her whole body ached, especially her
head, and all she wanted was to soak in a hot bubble bath,
then bury herself under her fluffy comforter back home and
sleep, preferably with a certain McCloud County sheriff
wrapped around her. She opened her eyes again at the thought
of Mulder, and looked at Diana. "You have absolutely no idea
why he would want to keep you here?"

"No," Diana shook her head. "Like I said earlier, I thought
he might be mad at me for not telling him Fox was back, but
I am not in any danger from the Syndicate like you are." She
turned her head away to look out the window again. "Unless
he thinks I..."

"What?"

"He has been acting odd, lately. Alex is convinced he's
finally gone insane."

"Krycek? He's still involved?"

Diana let out a humorless laugh. "Still? Once involved, you
are a part of it for life. I thought you knew that."

"Which is why I preferred to be 'dead'." She stood and
started roaming around the room with her arms folded.
Getting her bearings. "He'll use this against Mulder," she
said. "I don't know what he wants this time, but you can bet
Spender knows that Mulder will do anything to find me." She
glanced at Diana, who was studiously examining her folded
hands, which she had placed in her lap. "But once again, the
question arises: Why are you here?"

Diana's head shot up at Scully's question, her eyes flashing
as she recognized the inference that Mulder would not be
concerned for her. "Maybe Spender just wanted someone to
keep you company," she said, sarcasm thick in her voice.

Scully felt her lips curl in a wry smile. "Oh, I'm sure. I
mean, everyone knows what wonderful...friends we are. It's
not like we would love to rip each others throats out, or
anything."

"You know, Agent Scully," Diana said as she stood. "I don't
think I've ever seen this side of you before."

Scully laughed. "You don't know me well enough to have seen
any 'side' of me, Agent Fowley," she said. "You don't know
me well enough to have any opinion of me, I'm sure."

"And yet, you obviously have opinions of me," Diana argued.
"What is it, exactly, that you hate me for?"

Scully felt her mouth drop open in astonishment. "You're not
serious, are you?" she asked. As tired, sore and frustrated
as she had been in the last several days, Scully felt she
was ready to snap. Diana made the perfect punching bag. "You
want to know something, Fowley? I do know you. And you want
to know how? Because Mulder told me the whole, fucking
story."

Diana's eyes widened. Obviously, hearing the saintly Dana
Scully swear was a shock to her system. Or may be it was the
knowledge that Scully knew about her past with Mulder. "He
told you...what?" Diana asked. "We fell in love, we got
married, we re-opened the X-Files, I got a job offer in
Europe and we broke up?"

Scully raised her chin, her eyes flashing fire. "You forgot
about Paul Ricardo."

Satisfaction poured through Scully as she watched Diana wilt
before her. Obviously, she had believed the subject of Paul
Ricardo was something not even Mulder had been aware of. 

"Fox knew?" Diana's voice was barely a whisper.

Scully swallowed and nodded. "Yes."

Diana sighed, then lifted her eyes to Scully. "I..."

A knock on the door interrupted her. The door was unlocked,
and one of their guards slipped inside with a small clock
radio. "For your listening pleasure," he said sarcastically,
and set the object on the table. He turned and left. 

Scully and Diana just stared at it. Neither of them moved or
spoke for a long time.

************************************************************

"What do you want from me? What's this about, Krycek?"

"All in good time."

Episode 6x10-S.R. 819

*****

Lincoln, SD

Kim Gaffney wasn't the first person in Lincoln to notice the
handsome stranger, but she was the first to talk to him.

Being part owner of Suzy's Place, the only restaurant in the
area that didn't serve alcohol or have sawdust on the
floors, she felt obligated to introduce herself to the
stranger, especially since Lucas had asked her to. He was
worried about the man, as he was any unknown person that
roamed into town. She knew it had something to do with Ian
and Sara's mysterious disappearance, but being South Dakota
bred and born, she could see no real danger in the
situation. He was not the only stranger to accidentally find
their little town and stay a while; Ian and Sara had done
the exact same thing more than four years ago.

With a menu in hand, she walked over to the table, casually
patting down her short blonde hair in the process. No reason
she had to look like a hick or something, was there? Smiling
brightly, she said, "Hi! Welcome to Lincoln." She handed him
the menu, which he took from her with a smile of his own.
She felt her heart jump into her throat. "Can I get you some
water or something?"

"Ah, no thanks," he leaned a bit closer, eyeing her name
tag, "Kim. Not right now."

"Okay, I'll be back in a moment to take your order." Giving
him another smile, she turned away and went back into the
kitchen, where Suzy was waiting. 

"Well?" the brunette asked excitedly. "Is he as cute up
close as he is from a distance?"

"Better!" Kim gushed. "And his smile is to die for!" She
picked up a serving tray full of hot food and prepared to
take it out to other waiting customers. "I think I'm going
to like getting to know this guy."

"I can't believe Lucas actually asked you to talk to him."

Kim snorted. "That just proves he doesn't want me. Which is
fine by me!" Suzy would know she was lying. Kim had spent
the last year trying to get Lucas LittleElk's attention, but
the young deputy seemed completely oblivious.  Now, another
handsome man had come into town, and Kim was ready to focus
her attention elsewhere. 'Who knows,' she thought to
herself. 'Maybe he's the man of my dreams.'

With a grin, she set out to finish her shift, hoping the
stranger would still be there when she was done.

************************************************************

"Are you two the parents?"

Episode 5x07-Emily

*****

Alex Krycek had spotted the young waitress' interest
immediately, and knew he could easily use it to his
advantage. In a town this small, everyone was probably aware
of the location of the Mulder, or should he say Zweifel,
children. Unfortunately, a small town would also be very
aware of strangers, which was why he had to befriend someone
fast. A lovely single woman would be perfect, especially one
that worked in the only diner in town. She probably knew all
the gossip.

Lincoln had impressed him so far. Not the town itself,
really, but the fact that it had apparently held Mulder and
Scully's interest for four years intrigued him. And it did
have a certain class to it, despite the 'middle-of-nowhere'
feel. He saw how the residents, both white and red, seemed
comfortable with each other, not afraid to look each other
in the eye and smile as they passed each other on the
street. And more than one old man in a pickup truck had
waved to him as he had passed them in his car on the way
here. He had a feeling it was like that throughout most of
the state; on the minor highways, anyway.

He had just finished a passable Chicken Fried Steak when the
blonde came out of the kitchen, her apron off. She gave him
a shy glance, then headed slowly toward the front door. He
hid his smile behind his cup of coffee, then made eye
contact with her. She smiled and walked over to the table.

"You off?" he asked.

"Yes." She stood next to the table, her fingers playing with
her purse.

"Good. That means you can sit and talk to me for a while."
He nodded to the chair across from him.

She sat, looking at him coyly. "About what?"

"Oh, I don't know. You. Me. Lincoln."

She nodded. "Okay. My name's Kim, but you know that already.
What's yours?"

"Tony," he told her, holding out his hand. "Tony Stewart."

"Hi, Tony," she said with a smile as she took his hand in a
warm clasp. Her skin was smooth and soft, surprising for a
waitress. "How do you like Lincoln?"

"I like it. I was lucky to find it."

"Yes, you were. It's not really on any well traveled routes.
How did you?"

Her expression was curious, but wary, too. Ah, so she's not
your typical dumb blonde, he thought. Nothing to worry
about. "I was heading to the reservation. I heard that one
of my favorite movies had been filmed there, and I thought,
since I was nearby, I'd check it out. I came out to the area
originally to see Mt. Rushmore."

She smiled again. "That's how everyone comes out to the
area. You must be talking about 'Thunderheart'. That was a
great movie. I know a lot of people who were extras in it."

"Really? Tell me about them?" With that line, Alex knew he
had her. Hook, line and sinker.

************************************************************

"Is it easier to go on believing the lie?"

Episode 4x24-Gethsemane

*****

Parkview Apartments
Number 12

Dr. Megan Northam went home that evening with what felt like
a huge weight on her shoulders. Not only was she becoming
more and more concerned for Diana Fowley and Dana Scully,
who she had been in search of all day, but she was also
beginning to question her work more that she had ever done
before. The things Dana Scully had said to her yesterday,
combined with what Fox Mulder had told her about Dawn, the
eagle, not wanting to return to the Center, all combined in
Megan's head, confusing her and making her more stressed
that she had been since she graduated from medical school. 

As she unlocked the door to her apartment, she began to
wonder what she should do. She truly wanted to help Dawn,
but more than that, she wanted to find Diana and Dana; she
needed to know that the women were all right. Yet, despite
her position in the Center as Nihm Supervisor, no one had
answered her questions; they had either truly not known the
whereabouts of the two women, or they were very good at
keeping secrets. Even the janitorial staff, who seemed to
know all that was going out throughout Ft. Marlene, hadn't
known anything. She had tried to contact Mr. Spender, but as
usual, the man was impossible to reach.

Agent Mulder had left not long after their discussion
earlier, saying he was going to get the assistance of some
friends to help in the search, and that he would contact her
later. She had nervously given him her phone number, but had
relaxed when he, in return, had given her a brilliant smile.
He reminded her so much of her husband, it was almost
frightening.

She stood in the foyer of her apartment and let her eyes
sweep the room. All the lights were off, and it was very
still. Obviously, her 'better' half had not gotten home,
yet. With a sigh, she moved towards the bathroom, taking off
her clothes as she went, starting with the hated low-heeled
pumps. She still wished she could wear sneakers with her
skirts and dresses. Once in the bathroom, she started up the
water to fill the bathtub, making sure it was nice and hot.
What she needed to relax, she knew, was a nice, hot bubble
bath. Within minutes, that was were she found herself,
surrounded by foamy, white suds and near sleep.

The sound of the front door opening woke her from her
slumber. Had she remembered to lock the door? she asked
herself. Was the person or persons who had taken Diana and
Dana coming to get her? She was about to jump out of the tub
and find something to defend herself with when she heard
someone whistling a familiar tune from the general direction
of the kitchen. With a relieved sigh, she leaned back again
and closed her eyes.

After a few busy sounding noises, including the sound of the
refrigerator opening and closing, the whistling stopped.
There were footsteps coming down the hall toward the open
door to the bathroom, but Megan refused to open her eyes
just yet. 

The steps stopped, and a deep voice asked, "Long day?"

Megan opened one eye to look at the man in the doorway. "Way
too long," she confirmed.

"Want to talk about it?" her husband continued, his rich,
English accent sending shivers up her spine, despite the hot
water she was submerged in.

"No," she said simply. "I just want to forget about it...
for tonight, anyway."

"All right," he said. "I'll make you dinner." He turned to
head back into the kitchen.

"Jeremy!" Megan called out. "I have a better idea."

He turned to her, his dark eyebrows raised in question.
"What?"

She lifted a hand out of the water and stretched it toward
him, her arm covered in suds. "Join me?"

With a smile, he began to unbutton his shirt.

*****

End 12/18

From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 5 Nov 2001 03:58:18 -0000
Subject: Wambli(13/18) by Virtues & Vices
Source: direct

Reply To: virtuesandvices@aol.com


Wambli-Part 13/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Don't try and threaten me, Mulder. I've watched presidents
die."

Episode 2x08-One Breath

*****

Mulder had to wait until after dark.

He had spend the day holed up in Byers and Langley's
apartment, alone for the most part, though Katie did join
him later. She wasn't the best company, however, because she
spent the majority of the two hours she was there writing on
her computer. Mulder contented himself by reading over her
shoulder. She hadn't seemed bothered by this; Mulder guessed
Frohike did it all the time. 

Wambli was no conversationalist, either. She simply sat on
her perch (an overturned, 5 gallon pail), and preened or
slept, occasionally stretching her wings out as if she was
making sure they were still there. Around five o'clock that
evening, Mulder gave her a piece of raw chicken, which she
devoured in minutes, leaving the long leg bone, but eating
everything else. She slept for a long while after that.

The guys, meanwhile, were out in search of answers. Mulder
had wanted to go with them, but was reminded by Byers that
most of their contacts knew who he was, and the fewer people
that knew Fox Mulder was still alive, the better. So, he had
twiddled his thumbs for several hours, praying either the
Gunmen or Northam were learning something about his wife's
whereabouts.

It was almost 10 o'clock when Byers and the others returned.
They all wore tired, sad faces, and Mulder knew without
asking that they had found nothing. No trace. But then, why
should they find anything? Mulder thought. They were looking
for two women who were supposedly dead. He knew who he
needed to talk to. He needed to talk to Cancer Man. But he
had no idea how to find the bastard. And when Megan called
shortly after the boys returned, she told him she was having
no luck, and could she please go home and try again in the
morning?

So Mulder's next move was one he hadn't wanted to make, but
felt he had no choice anymore. Just before midnight, he
found himself knocking on the apartment door belonging to a
certain Assistant Director of the FBI.

Skinner was still awake, and he didn't seem at all surprised
to see Mulder standing at his door. But when the older man,
without a word, stepped back and motioned towards the living
room, inviting Mulder inside, the younger man felt a wave of
relief flow through him. He hadn't really known what to
expect of the man whom he had neither seen nor spoken to in
over five years.

Skinner closed the door behind him. "I was wondering if you
would show up."

Mulder turned to face him. "How did you know I was in town?"

"Rumor," the AD said with a smirk. "I have a friend of a
friend of a friend who works at Ft. Marlene. He was
absolutely convinced he saw Fox Mulder there the other day.
No one believed him, of course. Except me." Skinner had been
one of only two people who had known the truth behind the
car explosions that had supposedly killed Mulder and Scully,
outside of the men behind the set up. Margaret Scully had
been the other. It was a secret that had created a solid
friendship between the two years ago. Skinner had seen every
new letter and baby picture the 'Zweifel's' had sent right
along with Maggie. He was truly happy for the couple, even
if he was a bit jealous of Mulder.

"So," Skinner continued. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Mulder moved over to the sofa and sat perched on the edge.
"It's a long story, sir." Even Skinner seemed a bit startled
by the automatic 'sir' Mulder added; it was an obvious sign
of respect on Mulder's part, even if Skinner was more of a
friend now than a superior. "But only one thing is
important, now."

"What?"

"Scully is missing. Along with Diana Fowley."

"Fowley?!" Skinner shook his head. "How is it I'm not
shocked by you telling me about two 'dead' women having gone
missing?" His voice was sharp and sarcastic. "What about
your kids?" He had long since become attached to the little
dark haired boy and baby girl, though he had only seen them
in pictures.

"They're fine. Safe." Mulder sighed. "People we trust are
looking after them, and so far, we think their existence is
still a secret." He meet Skinner's eyes with his own. "But
Cancer Man knows. And I think that's who has Scully and
Diana. I need to find him."

"Mulder," Skinner began to pace. "I haven't had any contact
with that man in years, thank God. I don't know where he
is."

"But I bet you know someone who does," Mulder said with
confidence.

Skinner took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I
might," he said softly. "I just might."

************************************************************

"Hey, Scully? What are you wearing?"

Episode 3x12-War of the Copropages

*****

Scully didn't usually remember her dreams, but during her
first night in the old cabin, she dreamed a dream with
perfect clarity. It was probably because it was more of a
memory than an actual dream. A recent memory. A happy
memory. She dreamt of a night not so long ago, less than a
year, when she and Mulder had celebrated their fourth
wedding anniversary. 

She and Diana had not spoken to each other much since Scully
had mentioned Paul Ricardo's name. Scully had plugged in the
old clock radio that had 'generously' been given them by
their captors, found the only station the thing was able to
pick up, then settled on the couch, keeping all thoughts and
feelings to herself. Diana had paced, but she too had
eventually sat down. The station told them they were
somewhere in Western Kentucky, but not much more. They had
eaten, and once darkness had fallen, retired to their
individual bedrooms, all with very little spoken between
them.

Nightshirts had been provided, but Scully had simply laughed
at the idea of stripping down and becoming unprepared for a
possible escape. Instead, she had slipped off her shoes and
laid down on the bed, on top of the covers. She had tried to
control her breathing, paying close attention to the
movements of the guards outside, and occasionally noticing
the music coming from the radio she had left on through the
half open door of her bedroom. It had taken hours to fall
asleep.

Then, she had dreamed of the night from last September.

She had been five months along with Marisa that night, but
that had only made it that much more special. Fox was
spending the night at Mary's, and Mulder had gone all out
for the 'party'. The party with only two people on the
invite, her husband and herself. The kitchen had been filled
with candlelight, and late blooming flowers from her own
garden peeked out from every nook and cranny, making the
room smell wonderful. They had an exquisite dinner together.
And they had danced. In fact, it was probably the music
coming from the radio in the cabin's living room that had
brought about the dream in the first place.

Specifically, one certain song. The last song they had
danced to that night.

*Every time out eyes meet, this feeling inside me, is 
almost more than I can take.*

*Baby, when you touch me, I can feel how much you love me,
and it just blows me away.*

It had been the end of a very warm day in mid September.
Summer was hanging on tight, trying it's hardest to not give
up it's grip to autumn, and the crickets were still singing
loud and clear as they moved together, barefoot, on the back
porch, the music reaching them through the sliding screen
doors from the stereo in the living room. 

I've never been this close to anyone, or anything. I can
hear your thoughts. I can see your dreams.

It hadn't taken much for both of them to become highly
aroused, despite the bulge that was their child insinuating
itself between them. Mulder had sported an impressive bulge
of his own long before the song was over. Without one word,
he had backed away from her, grasped her hand, and lead her
into the house.

*I don't know how you do what you do, I'm so in love with
you, it just keeps getting better.*

*I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side,
forever and ever.*

*Every little thing that you do, baby, I'm amazed by you.*

They hadn't even made it upstairs to the bedroom. Mulder had
easily dispensed of her denim dress and his jeans, and she
had removed his shirt with little trouble. The couch had
become their immediate destination, though if she hadn't
been pregnant, the floor would have been their first choice.
Or the kitchen table. 

*The smell of your skin. The taste of your kiss. The way you
whisper in the dark.*

*Your hair all around me, baby, you surround me. Touch every
place in my heart.*

Mulder had stretched out on his back. His lean frame was too
long for the sofa, so he had bent his knees up, bracing his
feet on one of the armrests, laying his head against the
other. Scully had straddled him, her buttocks sliding
against his hairy thighs. She had leaned over him, kissing
him hard, while bringing her wet center down to his hard
length, which was standing ready for her.
 
*And though it feels like the first time, every time, I want
to spend the whole night in your eyes.*

As her tongue slid into his mouth, his penis slid into her
body. With a contented sigh, she had sat upright, and slowly
she had began to ride him. He had kept his hands tight on
her hips, helping her to raise and lower her body over him,
though they occasionally strayed up her ribcage to fondle
her breasts, which had been super sensitive due to the baby.  
*I don't know how you do what you do, I'm so in love with
you, it just keeps getting better.*

She had one hand on the back of the couch, the other resting
on his arm as it moved up and down with her movements. Her
grip on the sofa tightened as Mulder began to talk to her.
He loved to talk to her during sex, because he knew that he
could make her go over with words alone if he so desired.
"That's it, babe. Just like that. God, you are so beautiful,
do you know that? Especially when you're all flushed like
you are now. Ready and willing to come for me."

*I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side,
forever and ever.*

She clearly remembered looking into the glorious hazel
depths of his eyes as she felt the slow, wonderful ache in
her body grow. Oh, how she wished it could last forever,
that feeling! But at the same time, she so wanted to reach
its pinnacle. She wanted to fly! 

And Mulder was so good at making her fly.
  
*Every little thing that you do, baby, I'm amazed by you.*

When Scully woke to her first morning in the old cabin in
God-Knows-Where Kentucky, she had a smile on her face. But
the smile quickly faded when she remembered where she was.

When she stood and entered the living room, she found Diana
already there. Scully didn't bother with a single 'good
morning' or 'did you sleep well?' She simply looked at the
other woman and said, "We need to get out of here. Tonight."

************************************************************

"You don't believe in ghosts?"

"That surprises you?"

Episode 6x08-How the Ghosts Stole Christmas

*****

J. Edgar Hoover Building
6:30 A.M.

When special agents Monroe and O'Neil met each other by
accident on the way to their basement office, they both
teased each other about how early they were arriving to
work. The fact was, they both wanted to figure out what
exactly was going on with the Zweifel's and Ft. Marlene, and
were anxious to get on it, even if they had only run into
dead ends so far. 

They were still laughing and joking with each other when
they arrived at the office. Justin was the first one to
notice that the door was not only unlocked, but half open.
With a warning glance to his partner, he drew his gun and
shoved the door open the rest of the way with his shoulder.
Cat had her weapon out and ready behind them. The sight they
found, however, stopped them in their tracks.

A man was sitting at Cat's desk, his feet propped up on the
desk blotter, chewing on a pencil and looking like he had
not a care in the world. He wore a T-shirt under his leather
jacket, and work boots with his jeans. His face displayed
several days growth of beard, and his hair, though short,
was mussed. At first glance, he looked as if he had no
business even being in the FBI building, unless it was as a
tourist. Yet, both agents knew right away that behind that
desk was where he belonged. It had been, after all, his desk
first.

"Mulder?" Cat whispered behind him. Justin felt a shiver run
up his back. Though he had learned earlier in the week the
man was still alive, seeing him there, behind that desk,
still made him feel as if he was seeing a ghost. Movement
out of the corner of his eye made him turn his head. AD
Skinner was leaning against Justin's own desk, his hip
resting against the corner.

"What's the matter, Monroe?" Fox Mulder asked from his
reclined seat, twirling the pencil in his hands. Reading his
mind. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Mulder?" Cat said again, a little louder this time. Her
body had relaxed slightly, now that the shock was wearing
off. She had returned her gun to its holster and was looking
at her former partner expectantly.

"I like what you've done with the place, Cat," Mulder said
as he finally sat upright, letting his feet drop to the
floor. The 'I WANT TO BELIEVE' poster still hung in the
corner, and there were still several books and pictures that
had been there since Mulder and Scully had moved back in
after Jeffrey Spender's death. But there were many changes
as well, including several personal photos of family and
friends displayed on the two desks; O'Neil and Monroe
actually had lives outside of this office. Prominatley
displayed on the wall behind the main desk was a picture of
the two agents who had made the X Files famous: Special
Agents Mulder and Scully, dressed in their professional
clothing of choice, stood side-by-side, looking seriously at
the camera.

"How did you get in here?" Justin asked, feeling more than a
little silly at having been caught so off guard. "There are
security cameras everywhere. Someone would have seen you."

"We know where all the cameras are," Skinner said quietly.

"And the ones that are hidden even from Skinner...Well,
let's just say that the people that control them already
know about me, so..." Mulder shrugged dramatically.

"Why are you here?" Cat asked, her voice still rough. Justin
could tell, though she was trying to remain calm and
collected, that she what she really wanted to do was run
over to Mulder and hug him. She had spent more than a year
working with the man, learning from him, and while she had
long ago given up on any chance of a romantic relationship
with him, she had considered him a friend. Justin felt a
surge of jealousy at the thought. Though he, obviously, had
no interest in Cat sexually, he still considered her 'his'.

"We need some information," Skinner said. Justin looked at
his boss, and suddenly realized how odd it was that he could
be jealous of Mulder, but not of Skinner, who had been
quietly dating his partner for the last few months. He
didn't really understand it, but knew he didn't have time to
analyze it right now.

"Information?" he said in response to Skinner's statement.
"Such as?"

Skinner looked over at Mulder, and the younger man stood
from his seat. "Scully is missing."

"What?!" Justin asked sharply. "We just saw her a few days
ago!"

"Yep," Mulder agreed. "And you lead someone else to Lincoln
who saw her, too."

"Who?" Cat asked, folding her arms in an attempt to stay
focused.

"A spook by the name of Sam Colter. Know him?" He paused
while Cat and Justin looked at each other, recognition in
their eyes. "Not that it matters," Mulder continued. "He's
dead."

"But he didn't die before he alerted others to the fact that
Scully was alive," Skinner added.

"Did these *others* take Scully?" Justin heard himself ask.
He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she were dead,
really dead. It would be his fault. Indirectly, he knew, but
still his fault. Colter had followed him.

"No," Mulder said softly. "She ran. But she got cornered
here in DC when she came looking for me." He paused again.
"I think our old friend CGB took her, probably thinking he
could either trade her for his own life, or maybe even in
some strange way, to protect her." He took a step closer to
the two younger agents. "I need to know where he is. He and
I need to have a little discussion."

"What makes you think we know?" Cat asked, becoming slightly
defensive.

Mulder didn't look at her. Instead, he smiled at Justin.
"You can answer that, can't you, Monroe?"

Justin knew without a doubt he wouldn't be able to lie to
this man. Though he was a couple of inches taller, and much
huskier, than Mulder, the man intimidated him like no other.
Always had. "I don't know where he lives," he said, his
voice quiet. "But I think I know how to reach him."

"Justin?" Cat's voice was incredulous.

"Aw, don't worry, Cat," Mulder said with a smile as he
backed away from them. "Spender always finds someone to keep
under his thumb. For a long time, it used to be Skinner. I
don't hold it against him, either."

"Gee, thanks," Skinner muttered.

"So, Monroe," Mulder continued. "You gonna work with us?"

"Of course," Justin said. He wouldn't look at his partner,
but he could feel her accusing gaze on him. "But only for
Scully's sake," he continued. "And the sake of your
children."

"That's all that matters, Monroe." Mulder's smile faded and
his eyes became hard. "They are all that matters."

*****

End 13/18

Wambli-Part 14/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"I just want you to think. Think of Mulder when you met him.
Think of the promise in the life in front of him. Think of
him now. And then try and stand there in front of me, look
me in the eye, and tell me Mulder wouldn't bust his ass
trying to save you."

"I'm thinking, Agent Scully. I'm always thinking."

Episode 7x04-The Sixth Extinction-Amor Fati

*****

Somewhere in Western Kentucky

It was nearing sunset at the old cabin, but neither Scully
nor Diana were preparing to sleep. They had worked out a
plan earlier in the day, talking softly to one another,
usually with the water in the faucet running at the same
time. The running water acted as coverage for their voices
in case they were being bugged, and soft words were used
instead of whispers, which could be picked up by
surveillance equipment much easier. Then, they had both sat
back and waited for nightfall.

Their guards never entered the building or tried to
communicate at all, but they were a constant presence
outside. Both of the women knew their routine already; they
knew when the guard changed, how many there were at certain
times, and where they liked to stop and rest from their
pacing. They had also learned how many times, and at what
times, they checked into their base, which they believed was
nearby, but not too close. They were prepared to escape. Now
they just had to wait until it was dark.

The radio was playing again and Scully was sitting on the
couch, her head back, trying to doze and rest up for what
she knew would be a long night. Diana sat quietly next to
her. The air in the room was charged; it had been all day.
But Scully felt the tension increase dramatically, and she
opened her eyes, knowing Diana was about to say something.
Mulder had worked with her long and hard during the last
five years, helping her to read her own, natural intuition.
He believed she was, and always had been, an empath. It was
what made her such a good doctor.

Diana finally spoke. "How did Fox know about Paul?"

Scully turned her head and looked at her. "You're kidding,
right?"

Diana met her eyes with her own, and they were dead serious.

"He was an FBI agent, Fowley. He wasn't so blinded by love
or passion that he couldn't see through you."

Diana winced and turned away. "I never wanted to keep it
from him."

Scully just laughed, not believing the woman one bit. Paul
Ricardo had been one of the many ghosts from Mulder's past;
he was the last ghost Mulder had finally told her about,
nearly three years into their marriage. She hadn't been
surprised Mulder had kept the story from her; after all, he
hadn't even told her about the fact that he and Diana had
been married until just before their own wedding. But now
they kept no secrets from each other.

Paul Ricardo had been a fellow agent and profiler. He and
Mulder had started a good, solid friendship soon after
Mulder had started with Violent Crimes, not knowing at the
time that the man and Diana had been lovers several months
earlier. When Diana had been assigned to DC, she had
immediately started a romance with Mulder. But her feelings
for Paul hadn't died, either, and the two had started seeing
each other secretly, both aparently feeling no guilt about
deceiving their friend Mulder. Mulder had been totally
oblivious to the whole affair...at that time.

When he and Diana married, Mulder believed she had tried to
stay away from Paul. But apparently, it hadn't worked. She
and Mulder spent their days re-establishing the X Files, and
Mulder's obsession with them grew. As did his suspicion
about his wife and his friend. But Mulder believed deeply in
marriage, and he was determined to make it work. He was also
too afraid to confront Diana with what he knew because he
feared it would make her leave him. And he was terrified of
being alone. So he ignored what he knew, and focused on the
X Files. Then, the baby had happened.

Since they had married, Mulder had let Diana know how much
he wanted children, but Diana wanted to wait. Her career was
her focus, now, she told him, and he respected her wishes.
But he continued to hint every now and then. He desperately
wanted a chance to be the father his own father had never
been. He knew he could be a wonderful dad. And having
children just might make up for his past losses.

When Diana got pregnant, Mulder didn't find out right away.
She didn't tell him. And he knew why; the baby wasn't his.
He and Diana had used protection every time they were
together, and while it was a fact that their methods weren't
100% foolproof, he knew the baby was Paul's. When Mulder
discovered her secret, he set out to confront her. He didn't
mind if the baby wasn't his, but she was his wife, and he
refused to share her or the child with another man. She
would have to promise never to see Paul again, and to
pretend the baby was his. But before he could tell her he
knew her little secret, she had an abortion. That had been
the final rip to his already shredded heart. He had watched
from his car as she and Paul left the clinic together,
relief evident on their faces.

Mulder had never told her he knew. About Paul. About the
baby. He had become completely absorbed in his work. It was
his coldness that had finally driven Diana to Europe. And he
couldn't say that he was anything but relived, despite the
pain of being abandoned once again. He had told Scully that
he often thought of the baby that hadn't been born. About
its potential. How he could have loved it, no matter that
it wasn't his. 

He had told her this the night she had miscarried. And as
she lay in his arms in the hospital bed, she had cried for
him, for her own baby, and for the baby that might have
been.

"Why did you do it?" she said softly to the woman next to
her. "I know you loved him. Why did you hurt him so?" She
turned her ice blue gaze on Diana. "First cheating on him,
then taking away the baby, then leaving him. Not even trying
to talk to him, to get him to open up to you. He would have,
if you had tried. But you didn't. You gave up, just like
that, and left."

All color had drained from the other woman's face. "He knew
about the baby?"

Scully simply nodded. "He hated himself for not facing you
with the facts, but after the abortion, I don't think he
really cared anymore." She didn't tell Diana that she was
more of a cause of Mulder's obsession than Samantha's
abduction was. Searching for his sister was simply his way
to cope with a past he never wanted to repeat.

"It wasn't his," Diana whispered. It was an excuse.

"He knew that!" Scully snapped. "It didn't matter. You were
his wife. You were supposed to love him, in sickness and in
health, 'till death do you part. To *honor* and *cherish*.
Not break, then leave the broken pieces behind."

"If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been able to pick up those
pieces, would you?" Diana's voice sounded sad.

Scully gave a short laugh. "I didn't. He picked himself up
on his own. Quite well, too, I might add." She stood from
her seat on the sofa. "But I saw the cracks. Cracks that are
still there, though they are hard to see, now. I've helped
heal them somewhat, and the children have helped even more.
But they're still there, Diana. Because of you."

She watched as the other woman stiffened, preparing to
become defensive. "I never..."

She stopped suddenly as Scully's body began convulsing. Her
eyes glazed over, and her body began quivering wildly. She
fell to the floor as her knees gave out, but the twitching
continued.

"Scully?" Diana asked as she stood. "Scully?" she said
louder. Then she ran over to the woman on the floor,
grabbing her, trying to still her quivering body. "Help!"
she screamed, panic filling her voice. "My God! Help!" 

One of the guards rushed into the cabin. "What the hell?" he
mumbled as he saw what was happening. "Chuck! Get in here!"

"Please!" Diana yelled. "Get a doctor!"

"What happened?" the man asked as he kneeled next to the two
women. The redhead's eyes were open, but sightless. Saliva
flowed freely out of her open mouth. Chuck came in the door
behind him, his expression confused.

"I don't know," Diana gasped. "We were talking. Arguing. She
stood up, and the she just started seizing." She turned her
tear filled eyes to the men. "Please. You have to help her."

Chuck stepped in close, reaching for the radio at his hip.
He raised to his mouth.

"Don't let her die." 

At Diana's words, the world tilted for Chuck. The seizing
woman had suddenly grabbed his leg and pulled it out from
under him. At the same time, the brunette reached over and
plucked his companion's gun from its holster and, using its
butt, cracked him on the back of the head. 

Scully swung up and around the man she had knocked down,
clasping her fists together and bringing them down hard of
the back of the man's head. The fall, combined with her
swift attack, knocked him out. 

Both women stood panting as they watched the two men on the
floor, waiting for any sign of movement. 

"Nice job," Diana said. "You even had me fooled for a
moment."

Scully winced as she wiped saliva from her chin. "I've seen
enough in my time that it wasn't too hard to fake." She
looked over at her 'partner'. "Now, let's tie these guys up
and get the hell out of here. We only have two hours before
they're due for their check-in."

************************************************************

"It's not the finally detailed insanity you've come to
expect from me..."

Episode 3x06- 2Shy

*****

The Four Musketeers, as Cat had so quaintly named them ("I
get to be Aramis," Justin had declared), found CGB Spender
just after midnight. Monroe had made contact with the man
earlier in the day and had scheduled to meet with him in a
secluded warehouse in Alexandria at 10 P.M. Justin had
waited, with the others hiding just outside, but the old man
never arrived. At 11, the quartet headed home, but not
before discovering a car sitting near the back of the
warehouse. The driver, a frightened looking young man, told
them he had let his boss out an hour earlier.

"What's your bosses name?" Mulder had asked him.

"Hell if I know!" the kid had exclaimed. He pointed them in
the direction the old man had gone, which was away from the
warehouse, and the four began to head in that direction. It
had taking more than an hour to find him. Mulder was shocked
by what he saw.

The infamous, all-powerful Cigarette-Smoking Man was sitting
on an old crate, in the middle of an alleyway, smoking and
mumbling to himself. Cautiously, Mulder approached him.

The man's eyes, dull with age and fatigue, raised to meet
his as he walked forward. "Mulder?" Spender whispered.

Mulder stopped in front of the man, nodding his head in
response to the weak question.

"But you can't be here. You're dead."

Mulder felt his brow furrow in confusion. "I know. You
killed me, remember?"

"No, no!" the old man argued. "I would never kill you!
You're my son!"

Mulder heard the sounds of nervous shifting coming from the
people behind him. Mulder felt his own face heat at the
words; not in embarrassment, but in anger. "No, I'm not," he
said simply, keeping his voice neutral.

CSM laughed. "Oh, you poor boy. All I ever wanted for you
was power and respect, the same things I had. But you had
neither for so many years. But you have it now, don't you?
Power in your little county in Indian Country. Respect from
all the people under your care." He squinted his eyes. "But
how is that possible, if you're dead?"

Mulder turned to look at Skinner, and the AD gave him a
shrug in return. 

"He's crazy," Cat whispered.

"I AM NOT CRAZY!!!!!!" The old man jumped up from his seat
at Cat's words, dropping his cigarette to the ground. His
face had turned crimson as he screamed. "YOU KNOW NOTHING,
LITTLE GIRL!"

Mulder automatically put his hand on the old man's shoulder.
"Hey, easy. Just chill." He used a soothing voice, knowing
instinctively that the man would listen to him. He also knew
Cat was right in her assessment. Cancer Man had lost control
of his mind.

"I'm not dead," Mulder continued as the old man sat back
down. "Remember? You helped me get away. With Scully."

"Scully?" The man squinted up at him. "Is she here? She
shouldn't be here! They'll kill her!" He stood again. "The
children! You must protect the children!"

"They are protected," Mulder continued. "They are very
safe." Again, he pushed the man down on the crate. "But I
need to know where Scully is."

"No," CSM said, shaking his head wildly. "She's safe. I had
her and Diana taken to a safe place."

"But *I* need to be the one to keep her safe!" Mulder
demanded. "I need her with me."

"They won't allow that," the old man said. "Not if you're to
take my place. They don't want you together. They never
have." He began laughing again. "Together, you were
unstoppable. Together, nothing could destroy you." He looked
up into Mulder's eyes. "Aren't you glad I picked her?" He
giggled maniacally. "I thought she would control you. I
never imagined she was the other part of you."

Mulder leaned back. "I will never take your place," he said
with conviction.

"Then they will kill you, too."

Mulder stood silent for a moment. "Where's my wife?"

CSM just looked up at him, a small smile on his weathered
face. But he didn't say a word.

"I know."

Mulder and the others turned at the sound of the voice. The
young driver stood there, still nervous, but trying to be
brave. "I drove them there," he said.

"Where?" Mulder asked, just as the CSM shouted, "Quiet,
boy!"

The kid looked at CSM with agitation, but then answered
Mulder's question. "Kentucky. A little town called Willow
Ridge."

"SHUT UP!!!!!" CSM had risen again. This time, Mulder didn't
gently push him down. Instead, he shoved him hard.

"Sit down!" He turned back to the driver. "You'll tell us
how to get there?"

The boy nodded and gave them a quick set of directions. With
one final look at the subdued man next to him, Mulder turned
away. He told the driver as he left, "See that he gets to a
hospital, would you?" Then, he turned and walked away,
ignoring the screams emanating from the man behind him.

"MULDER!!!!"

************************************************************

"You think you can hold me?"

Episode 5x09-Kitsunegari

*****

It took them less than 45 minutes to hike to the nearest
town, but it was one of the longest 45 minutes of Scully's
life. Clouds had settled in thick over the countryside,
making the late August night chilly...and dark. Too dark.
Though they stuck to the main road, they quickly dived into
the bushes whenever a vehicle came by, which fortunately
wasn't very often. Scully still feared capture at any
moment, and the fact that she didn't trust her traveling
companion did not in any way ease her tension.

The discussion they had had earlier, combined with her
'seizure', had brought about a raging migraine, and Scully
feared it was bad enough that she would not be at her best
if cornered. Which meant she had to put a small amount of
faith in Diana, something she was loathe to do.

When they reached the little town called Willow Ridge, they
set out to find a vehicle of their own. But the little rural
community was even smaller than Lincoln, and the only car
they found was sitting on cement blocks. "You want to drive,
or shall I?" Diana had asked her with a small smirk. Scully
had simply responded with a glare. 

The sound of a motor caused them to duck behind the small
service station they were next to. An old pickup truck
chugged up to the little house next to the station. It's
driver, who had to be at least half a century older than the
30 year old truck he was driving, got out and shuffled into
the house. A couple of Black and Tan Coonhounds jumped out
from the back and plopped themselves down on the porch in
front of the door.

"God," Diana whispered. "Why did I have this sudden image of
'Deliverance'?"

Scully had to stifle a laugh. Biting her lip, she moved
forward toward the truck. Diana grabbed her arm and pulled
her back.

"What are you doing? Those dogs aren't going to just ignore
you!"

"Maybe they don't have to," Scully said, pulling away from
the taller woman. As she neared the house, Diana's
prediction came true. Both dogs immediately got to their
feet and began baying at her, tails wagging, tongues
lolling. Scully smiled at them, keeping her hands out away
from her sides, fingers spread. "Hi, guys!" The tail wagging
speeded up.

The old man appeared in the door, telling his dogs to hush.
"Can I help you, missy?" His expression was wary.

Scully smiled at him. "Hi. I am so sorry to bother you this
late, but my car broke down just down the road. My friend
and I," she turned and nodded her head at Diana, who had
slowly followed her, "we were on our way to a friend's place
and kinda got lost. Boy, were we glad to find you." She
laughed softly, keeping her expression open and as honest as
possible.

"Don't you city folk got cell-phones or something?"

Scully felt a real laugh emanate from her chest. "Well, I'm
not exactly city-folk. I'm from South Dakota. In fact, this
area reminds me a lot of home. My home town is a little
bigger than this, though." She looked about her with
appreciation.

Slowly, the old man smiled. "Most places are a lot bigger
than Willow Ridge, but we got ourselves a post office, so
that makes us a town."

"I'm surprised more people don't live out here. It's
beautiful." Scully hoped she wasn't lying. After all, she
hadn't seen any of the countryside in daylight.

"Yeah, well, it's still no place for your car to quit in the
middle of the night." He sighed. "I could let you borrow my
phone, but we don't have any mechanics or nothin' nearby, so
I don't know as that would do you any good. You'd just have
to wait until morning for them to come."

"Oh, I can't do that!" Scully said in a distressed voice.
"My kids will be expecting me tonight!" She turned to Diana.
"I told you we shouldn't have gone out on our own! Now, my
baby girl is going to be crying all night because she misses
her mommy!"

"Your kids in Owensboro?"

Scully nodded. "Yes. They're with my husband. We thought it
would be nice to leave them with the guys for the day and
have some 'girl' time together." She crossed her arms and
did a very good impression of a pout.

The old man bit his lip, thinking. Then he smiled. "I'll
tell you what. Why don't you borrow my truck? You all can
bring it back in the morning when you come to pick up your
car."

"Oh, we couldn't do that," Scully said. "We can't just take
your truck."

"Please," the old codger insisted. "I don't want to think of
them kids going to bed cryin'."

"Thank you, so much. How much do we owe you?"

"Nothin'! Nothin' at all," he exclaimed as he ushered them
to the pickup. Scully slipped into the driver's seat as
Diana hopped in the passenger door.

"Can I have your phone number in case we can't make it right
away in the morning?" Scully asked.

The old man recited his number, then warned them, "Just
drive careful. She can be temperamental."

"Oh, I will!" Scully gushed, starting up the motor. "Thank
you again!"

Diana, in the passenger seat, looked at her with an
astounded expression as they drove off. "I can't believe
that! He didn't even ask for your name! He trusted you, just
like that!"

"There's proof that there still are honest people in the
world," Scully said with a smile.

"Yeah, well you showed him. Stealing his truck right from
under his nose."

"I am not stealing his truck," Scully argued. "We'll drop it
off in the first town we get to, call him and tell him where
it is, and *then* we'll steal a car. From someone we don't
have to talk to, of course."

Diana looked at her for a while in silence. Then, she
suddenly began to laugh. 

Scully couldn't help it; she laughed, too.

*****

End 14/18

Wambli-Part 15/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"I found his story compelling. But then again, I believe the
Warren Commission."

Episode 4x16-Unrequited

*****

Near Willow Ridge, Kentucky
7:29 A.M.

When Mulder and the others got to Willow Ridge, it was
overcast and chilly. It hadn't started raining yet, but the
clouds looked ready to open up at any moment. The kid that
had given them directions had done a good job and they found
the cabin almost immediately. Unfortunately, it was
abandoned.

Or so they thought.

Once they entered the little building, they heard music. Cat
walked over to the little clock radio sitting on an old
table by the front door. It was playing a local country
music station, and it had been turned up quite loud. But
there was no sign of anyone around. It was obvious the radio
had been forgotten, probably in someone's haste to leave.

"Look around," Mulder said, his voice gruff. "Maybe they
left something behind that will tell us where they were
taken."

The four of them split up and began searching. Mulder
wandered into one of the two small bedrooms, not quite sure
why he felt the need to look there first. The bed had been
slept on. On, not in. The covers were still in place, but
they were mussed and the pillow had the dent from someone's
head on it. A pair of folded, flannel pajamas sat on the old
dresser, untouched. So they had been here at least one
night, he thought. Had they been moved, or had they gotten
away? That was the question. He turned to leave when a flash
of light on metal caught his eye. He walked over to the
small table that sat next to the bed. His breath caught in
his throat the minute he saw what lay there.

Scully's cross.

She never took it off, and the chain wasn't broken, so she
must have left it there for him to find. She had known he
would eventually find the cabin, and she had decided to
leave him the only message she could. Quickly, he scooped up
the tiny chain and pendant, then walked back out into the
main room.

"They got away," he said without preamble.

Justin looked up from his search of the few kitchen
counters. "How do you know?"

Mulder simply held up the necklace. "If they had been moved,
she wouldn't have had time to take this off and leave it in
there. She might have left it out here somewhere, but she
didn't. They planned to get away, and apparently, they
succeeded."

"So where would they go from here?" Cat asked, watching as
Mulder untangled the necklace and put it around his own
neck.

"Good question," Mulder said softly. "They would have to
find a way out, first."

"Willow Ridge," Skinner said. "The next closest town is over
20 miles away."

"Let's check out Willow Ridge, then," Justin remarked.

When they reached the tiny village three miles up the road,
it began to rain. The town consisted of a post office, a
small market, two bars and a gas station. There was little
to no traffic, and the only person out and about in the rain
was the old man that ran the gas station. He was watching
the four of them approach in their two cars with a curious
and wary expression on his face. Mulder pulled into the
station and stepped out of the car, Skinner following close
behind. 

"Mornin'," Mulder said with a nod as he joined the man
underneath the overhang in front of the station. 

"Mornin'," the old man replied. "You all look a little
lost."

Mulder smiled. "Well, not really. We're actually looking..."
He was interrupted as the phone just inside the station
began to ring.

"Excuse me," the old man said with a grimace. He stepped
inside and answered the phone. Mulder and Skinner waited
with hidden impatience as Cat and Monroe joined them under
the overhang. Mulder felt his leg twitch in nervous
anticipation; he was nearly tapping his foot, for crying out
loud!

Finally, the old man hung up the phone and came back
outside, his brow furrowed with worry. "Sorry about that.
Now, what can I do for you?"

Mulder sighed. "We're looking for a couple of women who
might have passed through here recently..." Again, he was
interrupted, this time by the old man himself.

"A red-head?" he asked.

Mulder felt his heart began to beat faster. "Yes! Have you
seen her? She might have been traveling with..."

"A tall brunette," the old man finished. "Yeah, they came
through last night around 8 o'clock. I let 'em borrow my
pickup because their car had broke down."

"Where...?"

"In fact, that was just the red-head on the phone," he said,
interrupting Mulder yet again. But this time, Mulder didn't
mind.

"Just now?"

The old man nodded. "She told me they couldn't get the truck
back to me. She said I would have to pick it up." He shook
his head. "You guys aren't cops, are you? 'Cause she sounded
like she was in trouble or something."

"No, no! We aren't cops," Mulder said, lying through his
teeth. "The red-head is my wife. And I think she and the
woman she's with are just a little lost." He smiled
disarmingly at the old man. "Did she say *where* you could
retrieve your truck?"

************************************************************

"Mulder, it's me."

"Where are you, Scully?"

Episode (insert episode number and name here.)

*****

Outside Kansas City, Missouri
8:45 P.M.

Scully and Diana made it to the Missouri River before they
finally agreed to stay over at a rest stop and sleep. They
had swiped a car from the same parking lot they had left the
old man's pickup. It was a nondescript, gray Lexus, and with
a little Kentucky mud wiped on the license plates, it was
easy to miss. They took turns driving, arguing about
everything from where to go, what and how to eat, and what
radio station they should listen to. Sometimes, it seemed
like they argued just for the hell of it.

Scully won the debate about where to go. She wanted to go
home. South Dakota. She wanted to know her children were
okay, and she knew that whoever was looking for her, whoever
Spender was trying to 'protect' her from, would never
believe she would go back there. It was the last argument
that finally won Diana over. Or maybe it was the fact that
Scully wasn't about to take no for an answer.

By the time they reached Kansas City, their gas was
incredibly low, they were hungry and tired, and their voices
were sore from the constant exchange of insults. Yet, they
never once considered going their separate ways. Like it or
not, they knew they needed each other...for now.

Scully did her best to ignore the fact that most of their
'discussions' were mere banter; they never really fought.
And she was not about to admit that she was almost having
fun.

The sun had just set, leaving the western sky painted in
fiery colors of magenta and burnt orange. Though they were
armed with the weapons stolen from their former guards, they
still made sure the doors were locked before reclining the
car seats back. But Scully still cracked her window. She
loved to listen to the crickets at night; they were one of
the many reasons she loved summer more than all the other
seasons. She was nearly asleep when Diana spoke.

"How old are your children?"

Scully opened her eyes to see the colors in the west had
changed to a dark cobalt intermixed with slashes of plum and
lilac. "Fox is four. Marisa is almost seven months."

"Only seven months?" Diana asked. "She is still a baby."
Scully knew Diana was thinking about what Scully had said to
the old man about her baby girl missing her. "Do you really
think she's crying herself to sleep?"

Scully was silent for a while. "Maybe. But she's probably
adjusted to being apart from us better than Fox. He never
stopped asking for his father after Mulder left. I can only
imagine how bad he feels now that both of us are gone." She
sighed. "Neither of us have been away from them this long
before."

"Really? You never went on business trips or the like?"

Scully shook her head, though she was positive Diana
couldn't see her. "Nope. Our business was in town. We had no
need to go anywhere further than Rapid City."

"Yet, Mulder left to help Dawn." 

It wasn't a question, so Scully didn't answer.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" she said softly. "It was an X-File." She
couldn't stop the sadness that weighed down her voice.

"I'm sorry."

Diana's simple reply nearly brought tears to Scully's eyes. 

She felt herself drift off into sleep. She didn't know how
long she slept before the flash of headlights bouncing off
the side mirror woke her, and she immediately brought her
seat back into its upright position. Diana also woke and sat
upright. Two cars were pulling into the rest stop behind
them.

"What time is it?" Diana mumbled, still half asleep. 

Scully glanced at her watch, pressing the dial to make it
glow. "Almost 3 A.M." She felt stiff and sore, and she did
not feel rested.

"I don't know if I like the idea of two cars pulling into a
isolated rest stop in tandem like that," Diana whispered. 

"Neither do I," Scully breathed back. "Let's get away from
the car." Grabbing her stolen weapon, she stepped out of the
car and made her way toward the back of the small building
that housed the restrooms. Diana followed, her own
confiscated weapon in hand. They tried to avoid the lights
as much as possible, but the area was well lit, and they
knew that whoever was in the vehicles had most likely
spotted them. But hopefully, the people wouldn't be able to
identify them.

"Who do you think they are?" Diana asked as they ducked
behind the building.

"Probably just college kids on a road trip or something."
Scully began fervently hoping this was true.

They stood silent as they heard car doors open and slam shut
again. Indistinct voices could be heard. Diana peeked around
the corner, and immediately jerked her head back. "They're
armed!" she hissed.

"What?!"

"I could swear that one of them had a gun!"

Scully felt her adrenaline level increase substantially, and
she breathed in deep. "The rest of Spender's men, maybe. How
did they find us?"

Diana shrugged.

It was silent for a long moment. Then, the sound of a toilet
being flushed on the other side of the wall could be heard.
Then another. Both women felt relief pour through them. They
were just travelers stopping for a break; Diana had most
likely imagined a gun. Even if they were Spender's men, it
was obvious they didn't know Scully and Diana were there.

They listened carefully as more talking could be heard.
Scully felt a chill run up her back. She blamed it on the
coolness and humidity of the night, but then she heard what
sounded like a footstep coming from around the other corner
of the building. Quickly and quietly, she moved over to the
other corner, her gun ready.

A tall man, nothing but shadow, walked past her, heading for
the bare lot that sat behind the rest stop. The lights from
the front of the building flashed off the pistol in his
right hand. Instinctively, Scully raised her gun.

"Stop right there," she demanded, using her best cop voice.
"And raise your hands slowly."

The man had stopped short at the first sound of her voice,
and was now raising his hands. But before Scully could do or
say anything else, he dropped his gun to the ground and
spoke.

"You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, would ya, copper?"

Scully's entire body seemed to go limp, as she too dropped
her gun to the ground. "Oh, my God!" Her body began to move
toward the man, who had turned to face her, bringing his
raised arms out to meet her. "Mulder?!"

She buried her face in his chest and reveled in the feeling
of his arms around her. She heard more voices coming from
behind her, but she didn't care who else was there. "How did
you find us?" Her voice was muffled because she refused to 
pull away from him.

"By accident!" Mulder said, his voice full of laughter. "We
only stopped because Skinner and Monroe had to pee!"

Scully finally backed away from him. "Skinner?" She turned
to see her former boss standing next to Cat O'Neil. Justin
stood a short way behind them, a huge grin on his face.
Scully smiled back. "I still don't understand." She looked
up at her husband, who had one arm wrapped firmly around her
waist.

"We met up with an old man in Willow Ridge. He got a phone
call while we were there. It appears two women 'borrowed'
his truck, but couldn't return it. They left it in Central
City, which was east. But I guessed they were heading for
South Dakota. So we went west." He shook his head. "It was
pure coincidence we stopped here. The car in the lot made us
wonder, and when I thought I heard a noise out there..." He
nodded his head toward the lot behind them and shrugged.

"Where's Charlie?" Scully asked suddenly. 

"With Wambli." Mulder glanced at Diana, who had been
standing quietly in the shadow of the building. "We're not
through with that mess, yet."

"Well, this mission is accomplished," O'Neil said. "Let's
get the hell out of here."

"And go where?" Skinner asked.

"Home," Mulder and Scully said together. But then they
looked at each other, thinking. "We can't, can we?" Scully
said softly. 

Mulder sighed. "Not yet."

"Well, then. I guess it's back to DC. Let's finish this."

"How?" Justin asked.

"We'll find a way," Mulder responded. He waited as the
others, including a very silent Diana, turned in the dark to
go back to the cars. Then he turned to face his wife. "Let's
not leave each other's sight until this is over, deal?" His
whisper was husky, filled with both relief and amusement.

With a smile, Scully nodded. "Deal." She held out her hand
for Mulder to shake on their 'deal'. Mulder looked at it for
a moment, then took it firmly in his. But instead of shaking
it, he used his grip to drag her toward him, bringing his
free arm down around her waist and pulling her tight against
him. She went willingly, turning her face upward. He
released her hand and cupped her cheek, then lowered his own
face to meet hers.

The days of tension, the lack of sleep, the confusion about
her relationship with Diana...all her worries faded away
underneath the ministrations of his lips and tongue. Scully
eagerly matched him in his attempt to swallow her whole,
standing on tiptoe and pressing the full length of her body
against him. When he finally pulled away, she was literally
breathless.

"Soon," Mulder whispered, shifting uncomfortably away from
her. He cleared his throat, glanced warily toward the
parking lot, and tried to adjust himself through his jeans.
Scully giggled. "Yeah, you can laugh. It's not your
problem."

"Oh, but it will be," Scully said with a smile. She bent
down to pick up the discarded weapons, then she turned away
from him and headed for the others. With an exasperated
sigh, he followed.
 
************************************************************

"You know what would really be fun?"

Episode 6x05-Dreamland II

*****

4:37A.M.

When her husband arrived home from a late day at work, Megan
had already been asleep in bed. And Jeremy hadn't awakened
her. It was obvious from the stress lines on her brow that
she had had a hard day, and he felt she needed her sleep. So
he quickly showered, changed into a pair of pajama bottoms
(Megan slept in the shirt that matched), and joined her in
bed, his own exhausted body falling asleep almost instantly. 

However, shortly after 4 AM, he woke up to find his wife
standing at the bedroom window, her arms wrapped tightly
around herself, head resting on the frame. She looked lost
and lonely, like a frightened little girl. That was one of
the things he adored most about her, her ability to be
childlike, even in the most mature circumstances. But
tonight, it worried him. She was thinking. Had been thinking
for several days now, and she refused to discuss it with
him. He knew it had to be something to do with her work, but
that was about the only thing he did know. Whatever it was,
it was slowly tearing her apart, and that made him angry.
Quietly, he slipped out of bed and walked toward her.

He felt her jump as he slid his arms around her, but then
her body relaxed and she leaned back into his embrace. He
was silent for a long moment, and when he finally did speak,
it was with a whisper. "Please, Meg. Tell me what's wrong."

Megan seemed to recognize the fervent plea in his voice, and
she turned to face him. "I've been thinking," she replied
softly.

"About?"  

"About Taryn and Carmen and...Wambli."

"Your animals?"

"That's just it. They're not *my* animals." She pulled away
from him slightly and turned back to look out the window.
"Oh, how I wish they were."

Jeremy was startled by her last statement. He knew she cared
a great deal about the animals from Project Nihm, but he
also knew she kept herself apart from them emotionally. She
was a scientist and they were her subjects. That was the way
it had always been. He wondered what had happened to change
her perspective. "If they were yours, what would you do?"

She didn't even hesitate. "Let them go."

Shocked, Jeremy grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face
him again. "What?!"

She gave him a sad smile. "I'd let them go. I'd leave them
alone to pursue their own lives. To let them live they way
they want to live. Like Wambli did so many years ago."

"But they have the minds of children," Jeremy argued. Though
not an expert on her work, he knew enough about what she had
accomplished to argue with her. "Would you just let a group
of children loose to live on their own?"

Megan laughed. "Oh, Jeremy. Some may have the minds of human
children, but some are smarter than me! And even those that
aren't still think like the animals they are. Mature, adult
animals that can learn and adapt just like others of their
kind. Wambli did. She may be able to think like a human, but
she has spent the last ten years living like the eagle she
is." She moved away from him, walking back toward the bed.
"Why are we doing this to them anyway? Because we can?
That's the most arrogant, egotistical, pompous reason in the
world!"

She's really getting worked up now, he thought as she turned
to face him, her eyes flashing in the dim moonlight
streaming from the window. "You really mean it, don't you?"
he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," she said with a solid voice. "Yes, I do." Then she
grimaced. "Do you hate me?"

Jeremy smiled. The little girl was back. "Are you kidding? I
don't think I've ever been more proud of you."

She smiled. "Really?"

"Really." He walked up to her, grasping her shoulders again.
He bent his head and buried his face in her hair, breathing
in her scent as if it was an intoxicating drug. His lips
found the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her pulsed jumped
and began to quicken, so he touched his tongue to the same
spot and was rewarded with a deep moan. He smiled and began
to unbutton the pajama top.

"You worked so late," she said, her voice more air than
anything. "I thought you'd be exhausted."

"I am," he mumbled. "But I can't sleep. And obviously,
neither can you. I'm sure we can solve that problem with
some invigorating, physical activity." His large hands
cupped her bare breasts under the now opened shirt. "You
know. Tire us out."

Megan leaned her head back as he let his lips create a wet
trail down her throat, across her collarbone, and down to
her right breast. "I could never tire of this," she sighed.
She groaned again as he wrapped his lips around her nipple
and swirled it around his mouth with his tongue. "Jeremy."
Her voice was barely audible as she breathed his name.
Slowly, he brought the shirt down over her shoulders,
letting it fall to the floor behind her, and then gently
pressed her back two steps until she ran into the bed. All
without taking her nipple from his mouth. 

When he finally came up for air, he pushed her onto the bed.
He leaned over her, giving her a quick kiss, then slid her
panties off. He then began lavish attention on her other
breast, caressing the already peaked nipple. She was unable
to lie still underneath him, and her wriggles and moans were
driving him slowly over the edge. But he became determined
to see her go over first. With a patience born from his
absolute love and consideration for his partner, he began to
work his way oh-so-slowly down her body. He stopped and paid
special attention to her bottom rib. Then he moved down to
her belly button, making her giggle with delight. He then
let his mouth trail leisurely across her lower abdomen,
stopping only when he reached the beginning of her curls. 

With slow deliberation, he kneeled on the floor beside the
bed and spread her knees with his hands. She was trembling
with anticipation and making small gasping noises. Finally,
one of the noises became intelligible as a word. "Please."

With a wicked grin, Jeremy lowered his head and kissed her.
She nearly jumped off the bed. He laughed softly, then began
using his lips, his tongue, and his teeth to drive her mad.
She was gripping his hair with two iron fists, trying to
push him away and bring him closer to her at the same time,
but he managed to keep her from distracting him from his
ministrations. She was shouting now, alternately yelling out
his name and God's all on the same breath. Just as he felt
her body start to vibrate with the beginnings of her orgasm,
he pulled back. 

"No!!!!" Her shout was followed by a whimper.
"Jeremeeeeeeeeee."

Without pause, he stood, pulled down his pajama bottoms,
leaned over her and slipped inside of her. "Yes!" she
responded, and quickly brought her legs up, knees bent,
gripping his hips tightly with her thighs as he thrust in
and out wildly. 

Her orgasm came in the form of an explosion, the aftershocks
of which Jeremy felt flow through her again and again. With
a grimace and a groan, he followed, spilling himself into
her with a forcefulness that astounded him.

It was a long while before they could drag themselves
completely on the bed and under the covers. But before she
fell into the sound sleep he knew was beckoning both of
them, he whispered, "I love you, Megan. And whatever you
decide, I'll back you all the way."

Megan Northam fell asleep with a smile on her face.

*****

End 15/18

Wambli-Part 16/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"See, you're a patriot again."

Episode 5x15-Travelers

*****

It was nearly 7 in the morning when the phone woke Megan.
She rarely slept past 6, but due to certain events earlier
that morning, her exhausted body wanted more sleep. With a
groan, she reached for the receiver, pulling it lazily to
her ear. Jeremy shifted in the bed behind her. "Hello?" she
asked, still half asleep.

"Dr. Northam?"

Megan felt her eyes pop open and she pushed herself up on
her elbow. "Mr. Mulder?"

"Yeah. Look, sorry if I woke you. But I just wanted you to
know that we found what we were looking for."

"Both of them?" she asked. She had noticed that Mulder
wasn't using names, and though she doubted very much that
her phone was tapped, she followed his example.

"Yes." There was relief in his voice. So much that Megan
knew she didn't have to ask if Diana and Dana were unharmed.

"That is wonderful news," she said with a smile. Then she
braced herself and said, "Mr. Mulder. We need to meet. Now
that this problem is solved, I think it's time we set out to
solve the other one. The one that brought you back in the
first place."

"I couldn't agree more, Doctor. We better not discuss any
more over the phone, but you can bet someone will be
contacting you before the day is out to set up a meeting."

"That sounds good. The sooner the better, Mr. Mulder. I want
this over with."

"Ditto," the former agent said, then hung up without another
word.

Megan put the phone back into its cradle and flopped down on
the bed. "Work?" Jeremy asked.

She nodded. "I better get ready for it. It very well may be
my last day at Ft. Marlene."

************************************************************

"They've taken revenge for their mistreatment."

Episode 2x11-Excelsius Dei

*****

Mulder sent Charlie to give Dr. Northam the message on where
to meet that evening. He was the only member of the troop
that was still pretty much unknown to the men of the
Consortium. He came back looking like he had just run the
Gauntlet. "Hey! You all right?" Mulder had asked him upon
his return to the Gunmen's apartment.

"Uh, yeah," Charlie had mumbled. "Fuckin' traffic is screwy
in this town, you know that?!"

Mulder had given Scully a wry smile. Poor Charlie. He really
wanted to go back to South Dakota. "I know exactly what you
mean, Yellow Hawk."

The 'party' began around midnight at the old warehouse that
used to house The Lone Gunmen when they had been younger and
more paranoid. And party was the only term Mulder could
think of to call the gathering. Everyone and their dog was
there, it seemed. Except, there were no dogs.

Byers and Langley. Frohike and Katie, who was still hoping
to get great story material out of this. Skinner. Diana.
Charlie. Cat and Monroe. Scully and himself. Even Dr.
Northam came with a 'date', her husband Jeremy, who had
refused to let Megan go to some secret meeting alone. And,
of course, sitting quietly on her bucket in the back of the
room, was the cause of the meeting: Wambli.

Once they had reached the warehouse, Mulder had detached the
leash from her jesses, leaving her free to roam about the
warehouse. She looked at him for a while, her brown eyes
unreadable, then began to preen. She had no need to go
anywhere. Besides, it was obvious she wasn't about to miss
this meeting for the world.

Northam appeared nervous when she entered the building and
saw all the people. But once she spied the eagle, she seemed
to relax. Mulder guessed that she felt that if Wambli could
trust all these people, then she could, too. After she
introduced her husband, Mulder introduced everyone she
didn't already know. Then Mulder attempted to get down to
business.

"You said we needed to finish this, Dr. Northam. You know a
way out of this mess? A way for Wambli to stay free?" The
eagle had stopped her preening and was watching them
intently.

"Yes. I do." Megan took a deep breath. "I've already got a
start on it."

"On what?" Scully asked.

"Letting them *all* go."

Despite the number of people in the room, it was so silent
you could hear a feather drop.

Northam sighed. "I've already removed the chips from all our
test subjects. I covered it up by telling everyone it was a
routine check to make sure the chips still worked as
tracking devices. Word of Dawn's escape and return is all
around, and everyone figured I was just paranoid that
someone else might escape." She folded her arms. "It will
take some doing, but with a little help, we can get all of
them out of there tomorrow night. They can decide where to
go from there." She looked at Byers. "You guys are good with
computers, right? You can help get some of them out of the
country."

No one responded for a moment. Charlie was the first one to
speak up. "That won't work. Wambli didn't have a chip, but
she was still worried they would hunt her down after they
found out she was alive. They're too persistent."

Megan shook her head. "They wanted Wambli because she has
the virus. But if we release the others, cure Wambli, and
destroy the last remaining vials of DNA, the Project will be
sunk. It would take too much time, effort, and money to get
it going again."

"Cure Wambli?" Scully asked.

"The vaccine," Mulder explained to her. "It should be able
to rid her of the virus."

"Speaking of," Cat spoke up, pulling a vial filled with an
amber colored liquid out of her pocket. "I picked it up
today. Not even Justin knows where I got it." 

Again, Mulder and Scully looked at each other, speaking with
their eyes alone. "Let's do it," Scully said softly.

Megan pulled her purse from her shoulder and dug through it,
pulling out a syringe and needle. "I came prepared," she
said when she spied everyone's odd looks. "I knew someone
would have that vaccine Mr. Mulder told me about." She was
blushing slightly.

Scully took the syringe from her and then took the vile from
Cat. She looked at Mulder. "One cc?"

He shrugged. "Maybe even less. It only took about two for
you, and this stuff is more potent."

Scully nodded and drew up less than a quarter of a
milliliter of the gold colored liquid. Then she walked over
to the eagle.

Wambli watched her come without moving a muscle. As Scully
squatted in front of her, she asked, "You're not going to
claw my eyes out or anything, are you?" All she received as
a reply was a barely visible blink. Scully leaned forward
and pressed the needle against the bird's chest, just to the
right of her keel bone. She took a deep breath, stuck the
needle in, somewhat surprised by the tough skin she had to
pass in order to do so, pulled the plunger back to insure
she was not in a vein, and injected the vaccine. 

Wambli never twitched.

After Scully removed the needle, she stood and backed away
from the bird. Everyone held their breath.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then Wambli fluffed her
feathers out, shaking her whole body. She spread her wings
and fanned her tail feathers, arched her neck and opened her
mouth. She appeared to be gagging. At first, Mulder thought
she was coughing up a pellet, something he had seen her do
several times since he had met her. But what came out of
Wambli's mouth wasn't a ball of undigested fur and feather.
It was black. It was oily. And it was dead.

The eagle coughed a few more times, then shook herself even
harder. She immediately began to wipe her beak on her perch,
as if she was disgusted with the substance still clinging to
her mouth and wanted it gone. Mulder grabbed a towel and
went over to help her clean herself. She stood still as he
wiped her beak clean, then she hopped off her perch and
ambled over to the industrial sink in one corner of the
room, her talons clicking on the cement floor. Justin, who
just happened to be standing next to the sink, watched her,
wide-eyed, as she unfolded her wings and used both them and
her powerful legs to jump onto the counter.

"Hey, Monroe," Mulder called over to him. "She wants water.
Plug up..." Before Mulder could finish, Wambli had picked
up the plug for the bottom of the sink with her mouth,
dropped it into the drain, and turned the faucet on with a
flip of her head. Water poured out in spurts, but soon
flowed freely. "Never mind."

"That was...interesting," Langley said with a grimace. He
looked warily at the puddle of black goo on the floor.

"You guys were infected with that?" Frohike asked Mulder and
Scully in amazement.

"Cool!" Katie said with a smile.

Wambli's sink had finally filled and she had turned off the
water. With a giant splash, she jumped into the big white
sink and began to bathe, splashing water everywhere. Both
Monroe and Cat had to move quickly out of the way of the
flying water. Megan and Byers laughed.

Charlie turned to look at Mulder. "Now what?"

"Now, we help Megan free the others."

************************************************************

"Mulder, this is not reality. This is a hallucination. It
has to be. And either I am having it, or you are having it,
or we are having it together."

Episode 6x21-Field Trip

*****

Charles Geoffrey Bertram Spender sat alone and lonely in a
tiny, worn motel room just outside of New York City. He sat
on the edge of his bed in the dark, the .44 Magnum he had
stolen resting beside him. The sound of the heavy traffic
outside his window did not distract him from his
contemplation, which had been ongoing for several hours now.
He had been studying the truth inside him intently, and so
far he had come up with only one conclusion.

He was going mad.

He remembered little of his conversation with Mulder the
other night, but he did remember the hospital afterward. He
remembered seeing C.C. Carter, the new man 'in charge',
talking to his doctor, their expressions serious. And he
clearly remembered the dark look Carter had given him before
walking away.

It hadn't been hard to slip out of the hospital. All he had
to do was pretend to be asleep, and they left him alone as
they waited for someone to pick him up and prepare him for
transfer to a mental institution. He knew quite well he
would never arrive at the institution. Not alive anyway. So
he had left and come here.

He was still lucid like that occasionally, but those times
were becoming fewer and fewer, and he was afraid that soon
he would never return from that confused world his mind
visited. And he couldn't go there yet. Nor could he die. No.
Not yet.

He had a job to do first. Mulder had refused his request to
take his place, which was not a surprise. If he had been in
his right mind when he decided to make the request, he would
never have believed it was possible. Now, Mulder was out to
find Scully. And then, no doubt, the two of them would help
that damn eagle. And they would succeed, he was sure. But
the Consortium wouldn't stand for that. They had signed
their death warrants by coming back into circulation. They
would not stand a chance...unless...

With a sigh, he checked the ammunition in the weapon. It was
fully loaded and ready for action. He would never have
believed five years ago that it would come to this. He
wished just once more that he could have seen Mulder and
Scully's children before the end arrived, but that was not
to be. He hoped Krycek would hear the news of what he was
about to do, and tell Mulder as soon as possible. The
children would be safe. And their parents as well.

He stood, swaying on his feet ever so slightly. After he
secured his balance, he headed for the door, tucking the
gun, and several more rounds of ammunition, in his jacket
pocket. He left the little room without one glance
backwards.

It was only about ten blocks to his destination. Not an
extraordinarily long way to walk, but tiring to an old, sick
man such as himself. But he arrived still upright, and as
long as he could see and pull a trigger, he would be fine.
He entered the street level door of the old townhouse and
made his way up the stairs. A young man armed with a gun of
his own met him at the top. "Sir, you shouldn't be here." He
actually sounded concerned. For him. Imagine that.

"Get out of here, boy," he rasped. "You have much better
things to do with you life than playing guard dog to men
such as these." He shoved the man toward the stairs and
continued on past him. He reached the door he was aiming for
and entered without knocking. 

Fourteen men, including Carter, sat about the room. The New
Consortium. They thought they were so powerful. So
wonderful. They were nothing. For most of his life, he had
held more power than they, and he had been a peon during
most of that time. He carefully closed the door behind him,
locking it.

"Well, well, well," Carter said with a wry smile. "Look
who's here. We were just talking about you."

"I'm sure you were," Spender said with his patented evil
smile. "As I'm sure many people will be talking about all of
us in the days to come."

Carter's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Spender never stopped smiling. "Gentlemen, we are about to
make history."

Without pause, he pulled out the gun in his pocket and began
shooting at the men around him, starting with Carter. 

They yelled. They screamed. They pleaded. But Spender just
laughed, reloading the gun when he needed to and firing
away. There was a pounding on the door behind him and sirens
could be heard in the distance, but he ignored it all.
Finally, there was only one bullet left.

Still smiling, CGB Spender brought the mouth of the pistol
up against the back of his ear. "This is for you, Mulder,"
he whispered. Then, he pulled the trigger.

When the NYPD S.W.A.T. team broke down the door to the
meeting room, silence greeted them. And the smell of blood.
Twelve men lay dead, including the man who had allegedly
caused the tragedy. The three that still lived would all die
within a day. The media had a field day with what was termed
the 'Town House Massacre'. No one knew why it had happened;
what the gunman's motive had been. And no one would ever
know.

It was the last cover-up the Consortium would ever be a part
of.

************************************************************

"Dog eats dogcatcher. The story's all over the news this
morning. It's sort of uplifting."

Episode 6x16-Alpha

*****

24 Hours Later

When Mulder and Scully arrived back at Byers and Langley's
apartment, they were too exhausted to even talk. But they
didn't need to. As one being, they entered Byers' bedroom
and collapsed on the bed, fully clothed, and were asleep in
minutes. It had been a very long night.

After meeting with the others the night before, Megan had
gone back to Ft. Marlene to tell the twenty-four test
subjects, including The Lady, who had been born there, that
they could leave if they desired. Using the computer hookups
that allowed them to communicate (the two parrots and the
three chimps were able to 'speak' for themselves), they all
told her they wanted to leave and continued to tell her
where they would like to go. Some requests she had to refuse
(Carmen wanted to go to Florida, but Megan had to explain to
her that there were no wild tigers in Florida), but before
she left, she knew where to send them all.

All day yesterday, the Gunmen, Cat and Monroe, with Megan's
assistance, made arrangements to have several high priced
animals shipped to various locations around the world. The
crates that they were to be shipped in were rigged to allow
the animal to escape once they reached their destination.
The 'person' that was to meet the animals at their final
stop did not exist; once there, the animal would most likely
be left at the location and though they would be watched,
the longer the wait, the less observant the watcher. It
wouldn't be hard for the animals to release themselves and
head out into their new home. All tags, leg bands and
collars would be removed; there would be no way anyone would
be able to tell they had ever been captives.

The Lady was to be released with both her mother, Taryn, and
her father, an untested 150 pound male simply called Lobo.
They had chosen, like Wambli, to go to South Dakota, in
hopes of reviving the long decimated wolf population there.
They would have to be very careful not to be discovered
until their population increased. Taryn would teach The Lady
all about living in the wild, then send her off to find a
mate of her own, hoping she would come back to the Black
Hills with him to raise their pups. Charlie was ecstatic
when he found out about her decision, and promised that the
Lakota tribe would do its best to support them when they
were discovered. He planned to escort the three wolves and
Wambli back home himself.

At midnight last night, Mulder and the others broke into Ft.
Marlene for the last time. By 5 AM, after several
excruciatingly tense hours, all the animals had been loaded
onto cargo planes that would take them to their new freedom,
with prayers and best wishes sent along with them. Megan had
left the airport with tears of exhaustion, happiness and
worry on her face. Her husband had lead her away,
practically carrying her drooping body to the car. The
Gunmen, not quite as run-down, also left together; they
would drop off Frohike at his place, then head back to the
apartment. With Charlie gone, Langly had his bed back, but
Byers offered to take the couch and let Mulder and Scully
have his bed. "Provided all you do is sleep in it," he had
added.

"Prude," Mulder had huffed back, but he really had no
argument. Sleep was about all he could do right now.

Cat, Monroe and Skinner had all stayed out of the direct
action at Mulder's request; he refused to see their careers
sunk if they got caught. But Diana had stayed to help,
quietly but efficiently doing everything that was asked of
her. Mulder had caught himself watching her more that once,
confused and wary about her presence. Amazingly enough, she
and Scully had appeared to get along quite well, and he
often came upon them bickering like two sisters. However, as
soon as Diana became aware of his presence, she stilled and
became quite again. She almost seemed contrite around him,
as if she wanted to ask him to forgive her, but couldn't.
Scully must have told her that he knew her secret. He wasn't
about to tell her he had forgiven her long ago. The day he
held his newborn baby boy in his arms, as a matter of fact. 

When they had finished at the airport, Scully asked her,
"What will you do now?"

Diana had shrugged. "I'll find something. I still remember
how to be a lawyer; maybe I'll try my hand at that again."
With sad eyes she had looked at Mulder. "Fox, I just want to
remind you what a lucky man you are."

Mulder, who had automatically gone on the defensive when she
turned to him, asked, "You mean because I'm still alive and
kicking after all the hell I've lived through?" His voice
had held an edge of sarcasm.

"No," Diana said with a smile. "Because you have the most
wonderful thing in the world."

Mulder had furrowed his brow, silently asking what she
meant.

"You have people who love you. Unconditionally. Friends.
Family. Scully." She tilted her head. "Don't take that gift
for granted. It's not as common as one might think." With
that, she had turned and left them alone.

Now, he slept hard, his whole being wanting nothing more
that rest. Somehow, he had moved over and wrapped himself
around Scully in his sleep, and when he woke several hours
later to the ringing of the phone, he tried his hardest to
ignore it and buried his face in her hair. One of the guys
must have answered, because for a long time it was silent.
Then he heard voices. Scully made a soft noise and shifted
slightly. A loud knock on the bedroom door roused them both
immediately, and they jerked upright. 

Byers peeked in. "Sorry guys, but Skinner needs to talk to
you." His face was serious. "He has news I think you should
hear."

With heavy sighs, they pulled themselves off the bed. Mulder
ran his fingers through his hair, knowing it was probably
standing on end. Scully's, though mussed, still looked fine
after she shook it out a bit. It was one of the advantages
of long hair. They followed Byers back into the living room,
where both Skinner and Cat stood waiting.

"Don't suppose you heard the news?" the AD asked without
preamble.

"Not unless they started broadcasting in my dreams," Mulder
grumbled.

"Spender's dead. As are fourteen of his cohorts."

"What?!" Scully said, wide awake now.

"You're sure this time?" Mulder asked wryly. 

Skinner grimaced and nodded his head. "I saw his body
myself. He shot himself. But not until he killed every last
one of the other men in the room."

Mulder and Scully stood still in shock. The truth was slowly
sinking in. "The Consortium?"

"Is dead," Skinner confirmed. "Their henchmen are still out
there, but they won't cause problems. After all, the men
that sign their paychecks are gone."

Everyone in the room was silent for a long moment. A silence
filled with disbelief and amazement. Then Skinner picked up
a folder sitting on one of the desks.

"We found this in Spender's old apartment." He handed it to
Mulder, but explained the contents as he did so. "It's full
of documents. Stocks. Bonds. Other notes of great monitory
value. It's all been transferred to a trust fund. Twenty-one
million dollars. All in the names of Fox Samuel Mulder and
Marisa Ann Mulder."

Scully's mouth fell open. "Twenty-one million?!"

Skinner nodded, his face grim but his eyes bright. "It
appears that your children are his heirs."

Mulder had been scanning the documents, both the original
and the copies. "It's all here," he whispered. "And all
real." He looked at Scully. "Mulder. He put their last name
as Mulder."

"I guess Spender knew that after he finished his job, you
two would no longer be required to keep yourselves hidden.
It looks like you can legally become Fox Mulder again." He
looked at Scully. "And you..." He paused, his eyebrows
raised in question.

"Dana Mulder sounds wonderful to me," she said with a smile,
then looked at her husband. "Though I'll bet you all the
granite in the Black Hills that he'll keep calling me
Scully."

Mulder flushed slightly, then closed the folder. "Was Krycek
one of those that were killed?"

Skinner eyes turned dark once more. "No. In fact, when I
discovered he wasn't there, I got worried. One of the
guards, who had been locked out of the room by Spender just
before the shooting, told me the old man had sent Krycek on
a job." He paused. "In Lincoln, South Dakota."

*****

End 16/18

Wambli-Part 17/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"I'd ask, sir, before you tell me that it's not my business,
that you do everything you can to get them back on the
X-Files. Far worse can happen. And it will."

Episode 6x12-One Son

*****

The flight to Rapid City took forever, or so it seemed to
Scully. Especially after the delay in Minneapolis. She had
nearly gone insane waiting in the loud, busy airport, and
was about to suggest renting a car and driving the rest of
the way (it was only about ten hours by car) when their
flight was called. Less than an hour later, they were at the
tiny Rapid City airport, which was quite busy this time of
the year. Labor Day was just around the corner, the last big
weekend of the summer, and the variety of people Mulder and
Scully had to wade through to get out of the building was
proof Mt. Rushmore was still a big lure.

Alicia Chase and Nick Remington met them at the gate. Mulder
had called them, asking them if the children, who had been
left under their unofficial protection, were okay. Remington
had told them they were perfectly fine, that they missed
their parents, but were safe and secure. How would they know
that if they were both here? Scully thought angrily.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Why aren't one of
you with the kids?"

Nick raised his hands, palms out, in an effort to stop her
tirade before it caused attention. "It's okay!" he said.
"Charlie is with them. He sent me to come pick you guys up."
The four of them quickly made their way down to the first
floor and out the door. The day was sunny and clear, the
wind blowing strong from the south. The Black Hills were
clearly visible through to the west, as were several large,
white thunderheads that were quickly building above them.
Scully, who usually loved to stare at the ancient mountains,
didn't even give them a second glance. She needed to get
home. She needed to see her children.

They headed southeast on Highway 44, speeding as much as it
was safe to do so on the curvy road. There had been rain in
the last few days, though it came too late in the year to
make the prairie green again. The hay fields were looking
good though, and the ranchers were bound to get a good late
summer crop. Calves that had been smaller than Mulder's dog
Grizz only a few short months ago were now almost as big as
their mothers. Breeding and Bangs vaccinating would be
starting soon, and the spring calves would be sold at
auction in a couple of months. As Scully stared out at the
land surrounding her, she thought of these things. Of how
life continued on, not caring what was going on elsewhere in
the world. And she wondered if all the Nihm 'survivors' had
made it to their new homes. If Charlie was with the
children, then that meant both the wolves and Wambli had
been returned to the wild.

She felt Mulder squeeze her hand and she looked at him
sitting next to her in the back of the Bu-car. "Almost
there," he whispered.

"So," Agent Chase said from the drivers seat. "I understand
you guys are among the living again."

"Yeah," Mulder said. He didn't offer any more information.

Alicia sighed. "I wonder what the people of Lincoln will
think of that."

Scully heard the words, but they didn't make sense for a
moment. When their meaning hit her, she faced Mulder again.
His jaw was clenched and he was staring out his window. But
he never let go of her hand.

When they pulled into the little town, heading straight for
Susan's house, they were not surprised to see everyone they
passed eye the car with curiosity. Some of the people even
stopped what they were doing and began to follow the car
when they recognized the people in the back seat, knowing
where they were going. Scully didn't care if the entire U.S.
Army followed them, as long as they reached their
destination.

Finally, they pulled up in front of Susan's house. Scully
let go of Mulder's hand and slipped out. Just as she closed
the car door behind her, three laughing little boys ran
around the corner of the house, chasing each other. One of
them was her son.

"Fox!" 

The little boy stopped and stared. Then, with a grin as big
as the sky, he rushed toward her, his little legs pumping
madly. "Mama! Dadeeeeee!" She scooped him up and spun him
around, right into Mulder's arms, and the three of them
laughed and cried together for a long time.
 
The few townspeople that had followed the car to Susan's
smiled at the sight, as did Nick and Alicia, but neither
Mulder nor Scully noticed their audience. "Where's your
sister?" Scully finally asked.

"She's with Tony and Susan," Fox said with a smile, his tiny
white teeth flashing.

"Who's Tony?" Mulder asked, his eyes growing dark.

"Susan's new boyfred."

Boyfred? "You mean, boyfriend?" Scully asked.

"Yeah!" Fox said brightly. "He told me he liked Kim first,
but Lucas didn't like him, so he made friends with Susan
instead."

Mulder met Scully's worried gaze from over their son's head.
"Fox," Mulder said softly. "Where's Charlie?"

"He's back there, too," the little boy said, pointing a
stubby finger toward the backyard. "He doesn't like Tony too
much." For the first time since they had arrived, the little
boy frowned. 

Mulder and Scully began to walk toward the back of the
house, where Susan kept several sets of playground equipment
for the children. There were about seven kids, including the
two boys who had been playing with Fox, running about the
yard. Mary was walking an infant child, Barb's from the look
of it, up and down the porch attached to the back of the
house. And Susan was sitting at the picnic table with
Charlie. Both were watching a man standing at the head of
the table carrying a baby. 

Marisa.

Charlie spotted them first, and he stood, a smile on his
face. "It's about damn time!"

"Charlie!" Susan reprimanded.

"Sorry," Charlie said to her before looking at the couple
again. But their attention had drifted away from him to the
man holding their daughter. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" Alex Krycek said with a smile. "Look who's
here," he said to the little girl in his arms. Marisa turned
her blue eyes toward her parents, and recognition flooded
them. She reached her arms out toward them, tears filling
her eyes. Mulder rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her
tightly into his arms. He backed up to stand next to Scully
and Fox, glaring at the man in front of him. Krycek just
laughed. "Relax, Mulder. She's fine."

Mulder kissed his daughter on her cheek as Scully leaned
against him, bringing her forehead against her little girl's
arm. She was fighting hard to control the tears brimming in
her eyes.

"Why are you here, Krycek?" Mulder growled.

"Krycek?" Susan asked, confusion filling her voice.

"You know him?" Charlie asked.

"Unfortunately," Mulder mumbled. He directed his words at
Krycek. "Well?" 

"The old man sent me," Krycek said, his eyes serious. "He
wanted me to protect them."

Mulder stared at him for a long moment, and when Scully
looked up she saw what she knew Mulder was seeing. Truth.
Alex Krycek was actually telling the truth.

"The old man can no longer tell you what to do, Krycek. I
assume you know that?"

The former double agent nodded. "I do."

"Then get the hell out of here. I never want to see your
face near my family again."

Krycek stood there for a moment. Then he turned to the woman
behind him. "Susan. It's been fun, but I gotta go. Sheriff's
orders."

Susan, her brow furrowed, looked back and forth between
Krycek and Mulder, but didn't say a word. With a smile,
Krycek left, giving a little wave to the other kids as he
rounded the corner of the house. Scully leaned against
Mulder again, relief flooding through her. She set Fox down,
his weight tiring her, but then had to take Marisa from
Mulder when the baby reached for her.

"Would someone like to explain to me what is going on?"
Susan demanded.

"It's a long story," Scully said, then turned as Nick came
up behind them.

"Well, now that that problem is solved, I've got another one
for you."

"What?" Mulder asked, rubbing his hand across his face. He
reached for Fox, who was tugging on the leg of his jeans,
demanding to be picked up.

"Cat and Monroe called me this morning, just after you guys
left DC. It appears that the FBI wants both of you back."

"What?!" Both Scully and Mulder spoke in unison.

"They want you both back on the X-Files."

************************************************************

"Unlike you, Mulder, I would like to have a life."

Episode 1x04-The Jersey Devil

*****

Mulder glanced at his watch, squinting his eyes in order to
read the numbers in the dim light coming from the glass
doors behind him. It was almost midnight. The Witching Hour.
He smiled. There were no witches around here. Or gouls. Or
goblins. Or monsters. Except for the human kind, of course.
They were, unfortunately, everywhere. 

He wondered if Krycek had left the state, yet. Though he
truly believed the man had done nothing but watch over his
children as ordered during his absence, he wasn't going to
kid himself into believing Krycek was one of the good guys.
While he felt relieved to know Diana was most likely free of
the seduction of evil, and more than relieved to know Cancer
Man was dead, Krycek still proved that there was the
possibility of evil invading this heaven on earth he called
home. He would never forget that possibility.

His thoughts drifted to the afternoon and evening that had
just passed. The people of Lincoln had been more than a
little shocked by the news that their Sheriff was not who he
said he was. Or their town pediatrician. But, they had
seemed to accept the odd situation with typical South Dakota
aplomb. When Mulder, Scully and the children stopped by the
Sheriff's office, Lucas had been ready to hand over the
reins to his boss once again. When Mulder refused, the
deputy had been shocked and saddened. "Ian Zweifel doesn't
exist anymore," Mulder had said. "Therefore, how can he be
Sheriff?" The reunited family had then driven home.

The old house had been cleaned since Mulder had been there
last, most likely by neighbors and friends from town. And as
Scully started to get the kids settled and replace all the
pictures and momentos she had left at Susan's, Mulder drove
to Kate's house to pick up the pets. The cats had
immediately run upstairs to hide until things calmed down,
but the four dogs rushed from person to person, barking and
dancing about the house in their excitement. Even the horses
had begun nickering from their pasture in the back,
understandably agitated by the commotion coming from the
house, which had been much too quiet for the last several
days.

Finally, around sunset, things quieted down. The phone
stopped ringing, and the kids fell asleep. Mulder spend more
than an hour on the phone with Skinner and Cat, and Scully
called her mother to tell her the news. Both Skinner and
Maggie Scully were making plans to come out to Lincoln to
visit; they were both very anxious to finally meet the
children. Mulder warned them the Gunmen would probably want
to visit soon, as well.

Scully hadn't said a word about returning to DC, but he knew
she had no desire to do so. Less than one week ago, she had
thought her quiet, happy, NORMAL life was over. Now that she
was home, she was anxious to start over, as Dana Mulder. She
had already talked to Al Rosenberg, and her boss wanted her
back, no matter what her name was. She had left the X-Files,
of her own accord, over six years ago. She had no interest
in going back.

Mulder, however, hadn't left because he wanted to go, even
if he had been considering it for several months before his
'death' five years ago. He had missed it.

Scully had gone upstairs to bed almost two hours ago, not
saying a word, but looking at him with sad understanding in
her eyes. She knew he missed it. She knew he was seriously
considering going back.

He sighed, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Would
he really be happy working in the Bureau again? Facing the
questions and the derision from the other people? Missing
his children and his wife? Ah, there was the rub. After
Scully had left the X-Files for a new job in Spokane, he
hadn't been as passionate about his work. Though he had
enjoyed working with Cat, the cases he had investigated had
all been more or less mundane. Mysterious, yes. But nothing
had seemed to be as exciting without Scully by his side. It
was like eating a baked potato without salt. Fulfilling, but
tasteless. He smiled, wondering what Scully would think
being likened to salt.

But was his life here any more exciting? Arresting drunks
and breaking up bar fights. Pulling over speeders. Making
himself visible at every public event. Not exactly the high
life.

Feeling welcomed by every family in the area. Having all the
children in town look up to him, including his own. Not
having to look over his shoulder every second of every day.

Waking up every morning to Scully's perfect form beside him.
Leaving for work every morning with sloppy, loving kisses
from his children. Driving away from his house, knowing that
no matter how the day went, he would get to come home to
that house in the evening.

He stood suddenly. Grizz and Ricky raised their heads and
watched him as he stepped off the porch and walked out into
the yard. When he kept walking, they both jumped up to
follow him. The grass had lost some of its lushness in the
days he had been gone; the rain they had received hadn't
been enough for it and he hadn't been able to water it. But
the gardens had been watered a couple of times, most likely
by Barb, and the flowers were thriving. He moved past the
little shed where Scully kept her gardening equipment and
continued on to the post and rail fence that separated the
horse pasture from the yard.

The three equines lifted their heads from their grazing and
began to move toward him. Feisty, being nearly white, was
easily visible in the dark, but Poker and Peanut were dark
shapes that only took form as they neared the fenceline. The
two horses stretched their heads over the top rail of the
fence and nuzzled him, searching for carrots or some other
snack to steal. Peanut stuck her head through the rails,
also trying to nuzzle him. Mulder pushed her little head
away softly; at her height, a nuzzle from her resembled a
grope at his crotch.

He gave a quick stroke on the muzzles of all three, then
backed away from the fence, leaning his head back to look at
the stars.

They were still out there. The aliens. Still waiting for
their chance to grab the Earth away from her current
inhabitants. They had been quiet for years now, but he knew
they were still there. Finding himself in a position with
the Government would give him the ability to be of help if
the dreaded invasion occurred. It would give him some power.
Maybe even more than before since it was obvious more than
one person wanted him back. And the fascination he still
felt about the paranormal was there. It had just been lying
dormant for years.

Pros. Cons. Should he? Could he? He wasn't about to give up
his family, that he was certain of. But could he have a good
relationship with them living so far away? Could he handle
it? Could Scully?

With a groan, he rubbed his aching head and turned back
toward the house. Leaving the big dogs outside, he closed
up, checking locks and turning off lights, a routine that
had him wondering of he could give it up. With Samson and
Delilah watching him with wide brown eyes, he climbed the
stairs, looked in on his sleeping children, and entered his
bedroom.

All the lights were off in the room, but the light in the
adjoining bathroom was on, the door opened just slightly,
allowing a small bit of light to escape into the room. With
that light, Mulder was able to see his wife. She was curled
in a chair by the window, staring out it. He realized that
she had most likely seen him when he had crossed the yard to
visit the horses. He walked toward her. "Scully..."

Without turning to face him, she said, "I'll understand if
you go back, Mulder." Her voice was solid, steady. But he
knew it so well that he heard the slight roughness in its
texture. She had been crying recently. He felt his own
throat tighten. "We'll work it out," she continued. "I'll
work only half the year, or for a few months at a time. The
rest of the time, we could live with you in DC." She still
hadn't faced him, yet.

"No." His voice sounded sharp to his ears, and it must have
to hers, as well, because she swiveled her head around to
look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. He cleared his
throat. "I don't want them to grow up there. I want them to
grow up here."

"Without their father?" She raised her eyebrow in typical
Scully fashion.

"I'd come home often enough," he stated, noticing almost
immediately how her eyes darkened at his words, even in the
dim light of the room. She might say she was all for him
returning to the X-Files, but she was really having a very
hard time with it. "Why are you letting me even consider
this?!" he demanded.

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean? Isn't it what you
want?"

"How do you know that for sure, Scully?" he argued. "Have I
seemed unhappy in the last five years? Do you think I've
been so miserable in this normal life that I would jump at
the chance to go back?"

"You did with Wambli, didn't you?" she argued back. "You
didn't have to think long and hard about that."

"You're wrong," he snapped. "I did think long and hard. But 
I knew it would be temporary. I knew I would be coming back
home." He ran his fingers through his hair, frustration
evident in his whole being. "This is different. This may be
the rest of our lives, here."

"So what do you want me to do this time?" Scully asked.
"Tell you not to go? Tell you not to leave us?" She shook
her head. "Isn't that a little like telling an eagle not to
fly?"

"No." Mulder stepped even closer to her. "Charlie told me
the only reason eagles fly is to find food, shelter and a
mate. If they have all that right where they are, they are
more than content." He grasped her hand and pulled her up to
stand facing him. "I have all I need right here. I don't
need to fly."

He watched as tears formed in her eyes. "You may not *need*
to. But you *want* to. I can see it in your eyes." She shook
her head. "If I asked you to stay, you would eventually
regret it. And then you'd blame me..." She raised her voice
as Mulder tried to interrupt her, denying her words.
"...even if it was unconsciously."

"Remember the cabin in Hayden Lake? Remember what you told
me about the time you left DC? You said that if I had asked
you to stay, you would have. You were upset that I hadn't
asked you to stay." His words were rushed. "All you have to
do is ask."

She looked at him, her blue eyes large and luminous. "Why
didn't you?"

Mulder felt his brows furrow. "Because I wanted you to be
happy. Because I didn't want to be the one deciding your
life for you."

"Exactly."

Mulder closed his eyes and tightened his grip on her hands.
"Scully," he whispered.

"It's your choice, Mulder. Whatever you decide, I'll always
love you. And I'll always be here for you."

He pulled away from her, the pros and cons running through
his head again. Would he regret it if he stayed? Or would he
regret it if he left?

He dropped his head suddenly, his chin nearly hitting his
chest, his eyes closed. Silently, he pulled into himself,
searching. Searching not his mind. Or even his heart.
Searching his soul. What he found there gave him his answer,
as he knew it would. With a sigh, he lifted his head and
turned to Scully.

"You're right. It has to be my choice. And I've made it."

*****

End 17/18

Wambli-Part 18/18
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"But you saved me! As difficult and frustrating as it's been
sometimes, your God-damned strict rationalism and science
have saved me a thousand times over! You kept me honest. You
made me a whole person. I owe you everything, Scully, and
you owe me nothing.

"I don't know if I want to do this alone. I don't even know
if I can. And if I quit now, they win."

*****

Four months later
2 P.M. 

Dr. Dana Mulder left Lincoln around Noon and headed west on
Highway 44. The roads were clear, which was a good thing
this time of year. Though it was cold today, on this last
day of the year, the previous days had been mild, the day
after Christmas even reaching 60 degrees, melting any snow
and ice that had still been on the roads since the last
storm. Once she had arrived in Rapid, she had turned south
on Highway 79 until she reached a point just past the small
ranching community of Hermosa. There was more snow out here,
at the foot of the mountains. She turned west again, on
Highway 36, heading directly into the tree-filled island
known as the Black Hills.

She had traversed the familiar route into Custer State Park
carefully, mindful of the ice that could be found on the
curves of the roadway, and other places that didn't get much
sun during the day. There was no sun today. If fact, the
northern sky appeared dark, and snow was in the forecast.
Scully couldn't believe she was doing this, driving up here,
on New Year's Eve, with a snow storm on the way. But here
she was. Almost there.

Her mother had come out to spend Christmas in Lincoln, and
when she discovered Scully's plans, she had insisted that
she stay on past the New Year to watch the kids. After all,
it had literally been months since her daughter and
son-in-law had been able to spend some time alone together.
Even during their 5th wedding anniversary last September,
they had been surrounded by people: Skinner, the Gunmen, and
nearly the entire population of McCloud County. Maggie felt
they deserved the time spent alone.

Especially with another new baby on the way.

Scully felt her right hand drift down to her belly, which
was just beginning to show signs of her pregnancy. After
Mulder had turned down the offer from the FBI, they had
decided to try conceiving another child with the six ova
left, knowing the longer they were kept frozen, they less
likely they were to be viable. Neither had held out much
hope of it working, but they had given it a shot. They had
made arrangements to have the ova sent to a specialist in
Rapid from the clinic in Arizona where both Fox and Marisa
had been conceived. Scully had gone on hormone therapy, and
Mulder had spent one more afternoon in a little sterile room
at the clinic, doing 'his half of the job', cell-phone in
one hand, his privates in the other. Scully had, of course,
been on the other end of the line at the time, as she had
been every other time he had done his part. A week later,
Scully had the fertilized ova implanted. A week after that,
they were celebrating. Quietly. Neither forgot about her
miscarriage years before.

After Mulder's decision to stay in Lincoln, the McCloud
County Council had named Fox Mulder as interim Sheriff. That
November, he ran uncontested in the election. His only
problem had been convincing the people to call him either
Sheriff or Mulder, NOT Fox. "That's my son's name," he told
them. He had worked over Christmas this year so that his two
deputies, including the newly engaged Lucas, could spend it
with their families. Everyone in town was preparing for
Lucas and Kim's upcoming nuptials, which were scheduled for
early May.

Cat O'Neil and Justin Monroe, their partnership and
friendship having survived Justin's slight betrayal,
continued to keep both Mulder and Scully in the loop when it
came to the X-Files, often calling to ask for advice or
assistance. Mulder never had to leave home to help them. He
never wanted to. 

Alicia Chase was still an agent with the Rapid City Field
Office, but Remington had been promoted to SAC, and had
moved to Denver. Since he was still Chase's superior, he
still had contact with her quite often. More so than a SAC
should have with one of his agents, Scully thought. She
wondered when Alicia would figure it out.

Dr. Megan Northam, having quit her job at Ft. Marlene before
she was fired, was now working at the University of Iowa
where she was helping to create cures for many serious
animal diseases, including Laminitis in horses and Feline
Leukemia. Jeremy, it appeared, had been thrilled to get away
from the east coast. Scully wondered how he like the
isolation of the prairie in Ames.

The names Diana Fowley and Alex Krycek were never mentioned.
In fact, they were rarely even thought of. They had no
bearing on the lives she and Mulder lived now. And as for
the name of CGB Spender...well. That was something that was
thought about but never discussed. Not yet, anyway.

Life was good. And, if she made it to her destination in one
piece, it would get even better. Nearing the town of Custer,
Scully turned off onto an old gravel road, following it past
several granite peaks, a few lovely meadows still covered in
snow, and several houses. She soon came upon her husband's
Blazer, which was parked in the snow on the side of the
road. Carefully, she parked her car next to it and got out.
She had never been here in the winter before, and she glared
at the footprints that lead from the truck up the
snow-covered trail that passed the meeting place. With a
sigh of exasperation, she began to trudge through the ankle
deep snow to the Rock.

Mulder was sitting on top of the boulders, casually looking
off to the north, flicking the shells from his sunflower
seeds off the steep side. Scully stopped behind him, hands
on her hips. "There better be a good reason you had me meet
you here, Mulder," she told him, knowing he was aware of her
presence, even though he hadn't yet turned to face her.
"It's cold. It's going to be dark soon. And there's a storm
on the way in."

"I know," he said with a smile as he stood and turned to
look down at her. "Southern Hills are supposed to get up to
15 inches."

"And that's a good thing?" Scully asked, eyebrows raised.

Still grinning, Mulder climbed down from his perch. "Yep."
He bent over her and gave her a quick kiss, then started
walking back to their vehicles, leaving the lingering taste
of salt, seeds and himself on her lips. 

"Where are you going?" she demanded, slowly following him.

"To move your car," he said. "We wouldn't want it to be
buried, then plowed under now, would we?"

"We're just going to leave my car?" she asked.

His only reply was another grin. Then, he reached out his
hand. "Keys."

Scully tossed him her keys, then watched as he got in the
car. "I'll be right back. Wait in the Blazer."

She climbed into the passenger side of the Blazer and folded
her arms around herself. Noticing that he had left the keys
in the ignition, she reached over and started it, turning
the heater on high. The clouds were getting thicker, and she
was getting more and more nervous. But, she knew that
whatever Mulder had planned, he would protect her from the
weather. Still, it was a long drive home.

Mulder appeared, walking, from up the road. He got in and,
without a word, backed out the truck and turned it up the
road...the opposite direction from Custer, and therefore
home. "Mulder?"

"Hmmm?"

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Mulder. This road leads into the Park."

"Yep."

"As I recall, it ends up joining with Needles Highway."

"Right."

"Which is closed during the winter. Except for snowmobiles."

"We're not going that far," he said softly.

Scully looked out her window, watching nervously as the snow
began to fall. "Mulder. We're going to be stuck up here."

"Yep."

She shot him a sharp look, realization dawning. He may not
have planned the snow, but he was glad it was falling. When
he slowed and pulled onto a faint trail (she was not about
to call it a road), she realized why. Sitting at the end of
the trail was a small cabin, smoke already coming from its
chimney. Scully knew without asking that it would be warm
inside. She knew that there would be plenty of wood for the
fire, and plenty to eat in the pantry. She shook her head
and smiled. "Mulder."

"Happy New Year, Scully."

As they left the Blazer and headed for the cabin, neither of
them noticed the silent creature observing them from the
branch of an old oak tree. Wise brown eyes watched as the
woman picked up some snow, created a ball with it, and threw
it at her mate. He laughingly deflected it, then grabbed her
swiftly, but carefully, around the waist, kissing her until
her whole body seemed to go limp. "Cheater," she said
breathlessly when he let up. Then, with a smile, she pulled
away and entered the cabin. He was right on her heels.

Though she wasn't physically capable, Wambli smiled. Then,
shaking off the snow that had already accumulated on her
head, she spread her wings and launched herself into the
air. She would need to find shelter before the snow started
to fall in earnest. No worries, she thought. She was well
insulated from the cold, and her belly was full. By the time
the storm was over, the only thing that would be bothering
her would be inactivity.

As she soared away from the little cabin waiting to be
buried in the snow, she knew the couple there would not be
having that problem any time soon.

THE END

How do you define normal?