An Unchanged Soul
Chapter Twenty-Five


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It was near dawn, and Emma had left to see Dana
settled into a room.  Fox had woken briefly in the
wee hours of the morning, making his concern known
with a nightmarish shout that had startled both
Emma and Sam from a light doze.  It hadn't taken
Sam but a moment to calm him, telling him quickly
that Dana and the baby were fine.  The excitement
caught up quickly with his brother, who'd slipped
into a fitful sleep almost immediately, murmuring
his gratitude to Sam for being there.

"Don't let..." he'd whispered, closing his eyes. 
He'd grabbed at Sam with a shaky hand.  "No more
drugs. You stay.  Watch Scully."

"Charlie's with her," Sam had choked out, the way
Fox trembled making him shake with anger of his
own.  "I'm not leaving you."

And he hadn't, facing down the nurse who showed up
later with another syringe.  Sam had let his scowl
speak for him, standing over the bed with a fisted
stance that dared her to come any closer.  She'd
scurried away, mumbling under her breath about
getting the doctor.  But no one came after that and
Sam was thankful; he didn't know if he could have
restrained himself from physical violence in the
face of such stupidity.

Mike had come and gone without much to say; Sam
knew the night had taken a toll on them all, as
they walked around in a state of near exhaustion. 
Charlie was with Dana, awaiting the arrival of
Fox's commanding officer.  The overall situation
still hadn't become any clearer, and doctor's
orders forbid anyone from upsetting Dana with
questions.  Until Fox woke up, no one knew what the
next course of action would be.  For now it was
enough to remain vigilant and aware.  Sam had no
trouble doing either.  Closing his eyes meant
seeing things he would rather not.

For once, Sam didn't share Fox's trust in his
ability to keep danger at arm's length.  Normally
he was a confident, capable man.  Willing to brave
anything.  His athletic ability had always made him
feel superior to the normal man.  Human, but
somehow invincible.  Now, a niggling frailty nipped
at his skin.  It didn't sit easy with him and never
would.  He'd had the whole night to believe he was
now free of his demons.  Too bad he felt one or two
still breathing down his neck.

He couldn't sleep; his nap before Emma's departure
earlier had been filled with disturbing dreams. 
Visions of all these familiar faces crowded in his
mind.  Laughter, tears, dancing, working...
anything and everything, though it was mostly
scraps of scenes missing the threads to tie them
together.  However much he now understood, there
was so much more that escaped him.  It frustrated
him to no end, especially as he watched his
battered brother sleep.

Sir had intimated Sam returned for a reason.  Had
it been to heal Dana?  Had he known this awful
thing would happen and come back to prevent it?  If
so, he'd failed miserably.  He still couldn't
believe he'd had within him the power to create
miracles.  He looked at his too-big hands,
spreading his fingers wide.  No, he was no angel. 
He'd done things with those hands, hurt people and
used women with those hands.  They were filthy with
unseen dirt.  Hands like that couldn't ever do any
good.

"They're still attached."

Sam looked up at the husky whisper, into Fox's
sleepy, yet amused eyes.  They were bloodshot but
alert, looking at him with unwavering awareness of
Sam's plight.  He grinned sheepishly, fisting his
hands.  "Good thing, huh?  Just imagine how hard it
would be to hold a baseball bat if I didn't have
hands."  

"Or how difficult to catch a drugged-out me."  Fox
licked his lips, his smile fading as his eyes
shifted.  His head lolled on the pillow as he tried
to steady his world.  "Scully?" he asked, his one-
word question packed with emotion as he finally
closed his eyes.

Sam hastened to reassure his brother, relieved he
was lucid.  He'd had a vague thought during the
night that Fox would awaken as a howling lunatic. 
"They're putting her in the room next door as we
speak."

Fox nodded, waiting a few moments.  Sam could see
the tapdance the morphine had done on his brother's
brain.  A pale stretch of skin circled his mouth as
he strove for command of his body.  His free hand
clenched and released several times before he
looked at Sam again.  This time, his gaze was more
focused, though dark with a probing uncertainty. 
"Sam, something happened last night -"

But Sam didn't want to talk about last night; it
was too raw and still confusing.  "Let me tell the
nurse you're awake."  On stiff legs, he rose from
his chair, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. 
The strength of the grip surprised Sam.  It also
spoke of sheer force of will; Sam was pleased at
Fox's mastery over the lingering pull of the drug.

"Sam, tell me what happened."

His pleasure faded quickly, as he realized Fox
wasn't letting go.  Curiosity had taken hold, its
powerful grip strenghtening the clasp of his
brother's fingers.

"What happened?  You were run off the road,
remember?"  His attempted diversion was useless and
he knew it, watching Fox slowly shake his head.

"I know that already.  And in a minute, I want you
to get Charlie in here, okay?"  He glanced down at
Sam's chair.  "Sit.  I wanna know what I saw in the
ER last night."

Sam pulled free of his brother's hold and sat with
a sigh, though he perched like a bird ready for
flight.  "I dunno," he murmured, looking at his
hands.  "You tell me."  He hoped Fox would discount
the weirdness in the ER as an hallucination brought
on by the morphine.

"I saw a light.  You were there, with Scully. 
Right in the middle of it.  I was doped up, but I
know what I saw."  His eyes narrowed, as if a
sudden thought interrupted his musings.  "You
aren't supposed to be here."

Sam's eyes snapped up.  "What do you mean?"  Had
Fox heard more than he should?  Did he know of
Sir's warnings?  God, he so wanted to tell someone;
who better than his own brother, who vowed to
always believe him no matter what.

"The hotel.  You weren't supposed to leave the
hotel."

"I don't think I have to worry about that anymore,"
Sam said, relieved that at least one aspect of his
life seemed to be straight.  He might be on a
collision course with some unknown fate, but he was
certain Sir would no longer bother him.  It was
time to share part of his experience with Fox,
crazy as it sounded.  "I had a visitor last night. 
In the ER," he added.  "The man who was following
me around.  Well, if you can call him a man. 
Sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Fox looked at him with sympathy and no small amount
of steadfast encouragement.  "You can tell me
anything, Sam.  I won't judge you, or think you're
crazy."

"That still remains to be seen."  Sam swallowed,
continuing, "You were right about the light,
Smokey.  He stood there in the middle of it, and he
touched Dana.  She woke up after that.  Told you it
was crazy."

Fox blinked, his returning color ebbed momentarily
by surprise.  "You mean... he healed her?"

"I don't know."  Sam still couldn't bring himself
to believe it happened.  "All I know is, one minute
she was dying and the next, she wasn't.  He told me
she would be okay."

"He spoke to you?"  Fox's words came faster, though
they still suffered with sluggishness.  "An actual
conversation?  What did he say?"

"A conversation?  Yeah, if you can call it that. 
In riddles, is more like it.  Lots of talk about
how I wasn't supposed to be here and he'd tried to
get me back but it was too late.  Whatever he
wanted from me, he no longer wants.  I tried to
touch him, to prove what you said - that he needed
me to make the first move.  But it was like he just
faded away into nothing."

He fell silent, feeling Fox's probing stare sweep
over his downcast face.  He felt a fool for even
burdening his brother with this wild tale,
especially at a time like this.  Fox had enough to
worry about without Sam's troubles contributing to
his anxiety.  "Look, Smokey - I was mighty tired
last night -"

"I believe you," Fox interrupted softly.  Sam
looked up into a calm, sure face.  "I believe
you've been somewhere no one has ever been these
past years.  Sounds like you pulled a fast one and
made it home."  His hand picked at the sheets, as
if he tread carefully.  "I've heard things about
such experiences.  I could try to find out if you
want.  Your call."

Fox looked like he already knew where Sam had been,
and with whom.  He'd drawn conclusions from Sam's
story, and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to hear them.

"I think I know all I need to know for now,
Smokey," he replied, though he had a nagging
feeling that wasn't true.  But he'd had quite
enough of Sir's manipulations for a while.  Maybe
later, when things had settled down again and Fox's
problems were resolved.  "All I know is I'm now
free to do what I want.  And right now, all I want
is to help you and Dana."

"You realize one day you'll have to deal with this,
don't you?"

"Yeah, but not today.  Okay?"

Fox held out his hand and Sam took it.  "Deal.  Let
me know when you're ready and I'll be here, Sam."

"Hey there," a feminine voice cut in.  "There's
someone right next door who'd love to see you,
Mulder.  If you're up to it, I can find a
wheelchair."

Emma stood in the doorway with a beaming smile. 
Sam felt Fox's smile all the way down to the fierce
grip of his hand.  He had no need to hear Fox say
anything; besides, at the moment his brother had
trouble getting past his excitement, as his words
seemed to catch in his throat.  Sam gave his hand a
pull.

"Just hold on to me, Smokey," he said, his own
smile wide.  "I'll get you there in one piece."

It took less than a second for Fox to spring up
from the bed, despite his battered body.


**********


Sam drifted from the room in embarrassed silence,
lowering his chin.  The reunion of his brother and
Dana was too personal, their murmurs tender and
heartfelt, their embrace that of relief and love. 
Sympathetic, envious tears gathered in his eyes,
something he brushed away with a shaky hand as he
closed the door.  He didn't know if he could ever
have what they had.  It seemed too good to be true,
even as he watched the woman he loved approach with
a smile.  He tried to imagine his worry should he
ever have to comfort a bruised Emma - and found it
too painful to contemplate.

"I'm going to the cafeteria for coffee.  Want
some?"  Emma broke into his thoughts with the soft
query.

A few moments with Emma seemed like heaven, and he
returned her tentative smile.  "Yeah.  I'll come
with you."  With a hand at her back, he steered her
in the direction of the elevator, then paused at
the lonely figure propping up the wall outside
Dana's door.  He eyed Charlie warily, remembering
his near confrontation with the man last night. 
Sam didn't hold Charlie's angry words against him -
after all, he himself had said quite a few in the
heat of the moment.  "Would you like to join us?"

"Thanks, but I'm waiting for someone."  

Charlie's hooded gaze spoke of things more
important than any remaining animosity.  The
calculation there chilled Sam, and he was thankful
it wasn't directed at him.  Charlie was a tense
bundle of anger and energy just waiting to let go
on the real villain of the day - Chang.  Sam
sympathized, wishing he had the resources at his
command Dana's brother had; he too wanted nothing
more than to put the squeeze on the phantom that
haunted Fox and Dana.  Maybe if he had that goal in
sight, he could regain his confident footing.  He
was terrible at sitting idle while others took care
of business.

With a nod, he moved Emma toward the elevator.  The
door opened at the press of the down arrow, and
they were brought up short by the sole occupant.  A
big, imposing man who looked down his nose at
everyone, his bald head shining in the glare of
overhead light.  After a tired moment of confusion,
Sam realized this could be no other but the boss. 
Even in street clothes, he exuded authority through
every steely look and thin-lipped clench of his
jaw.

Charlie stepped to the forefront, saying, "Sam,
this is Mulder's CO, Rear Admiral Skinner."

"Admiral Skinner," he said, extending a hand.  "Sam
Mulder, Fox's brother."

"Mr. Mulder."  Skinner gave his hand a brief shake,
then nodded at Emma.  "Miss Scully.  Nice to see
you again."

"I haven't seen you since Dana and Mulder's first
anniversary party, Admiral," she commented.  "I
trust you've been well?"

"As well as can be.  Wish we didn't have to meet
again under such circumstances."  He looked at the
closed door down the hall.  "How are things this
morning?" 

"Just fine," Emma answered, her smile joyous. 
"They're together in Dana's room.  Are you here to
visit?"

Sam noted the way the two men looked almost bland
and without expression, and knew Skinner had news. 
But Emma, in her fatigue and happiness, was
oblivious to their tense stances and grim looks.

"I'll go in a bit later," Skinner replied.  Sam
noticed the definite softening of his manner as he
addressed Emma.  "Anywhere we can get a cup of
coffee, Miss Scully?"

"We were just going down for some, weren't we Sam? 
I'd be more than happy to bring some back for you
and Charlie."

"Thank you."  It was more a tiny cracking of his
cheeks than a smile.  He looked at Charlie and
added, "Let's find a more private place to wait,
shall we?"  He was already moving away from the
group.

Charlie followed like a jackrabbit, calling out,
"Waiting room is two doors down, sir.  On the
corner."

Sam watched Skinner give the two guards an ominous
look as he casually strolled past them; they
snapped to a ramrod straightness that satisfied
Sam.  Now there was a man who could wither with one
glance.

"Sam?"  Emma gave his arm a slight pull.

He watched the two men disappear into the waiting
room and knew the conversation within was something
he wanted to hear.  He also knew they'd probably
kick his ass right out of the room.  But whatever
they had planned concerned the only family Sam had
left in the world, and he was not about to trust a
government that had already been lax in protecting
that family.  National security be damned.  He was
going in there.

"You go on, sweetheart.  I'll catch up in a
minute."

Her face clouded.  "Sam, don't you go poking your
nose in there."

"I'm not," he lied smoothly, his smile innocent. 
"I just want to check on Fox, see if they need
anything while we're downstairs.  You go on.  I'll
be right behind you."

She narrowed her eyes, but turned to summon the
elevator, her voice tired.  "Okay.  But don't you
disappear on me again.  Or get in trouble."

He touched her forehead with his lips in a brief
caress.  "I told you last night - I'm not going
anywhere.  One of these days, you'll get so tired
of me hanging around you'll throw me out the door
yourself."

Emma leaned into him; not too far, he noticed with
an inner chuckle.  Though exhausted, she still kept
a discreet distance in the public hallway.  "If
that day ever comes, Sam Mulder, I won't bother. 
I'll just get my brothers to do it for me."  With a
warm smile tinged with silent warning, she got into
the elevator.

Sam waited until the doors closed, his smile fading
immediately.  Avoiding the guards in the hallway,
he took a roundabout path to the waiting room,
passing it by to duck into the adjacent corridor.
Just as he figured, there was another door to the
waiting room there, and he slowly cracked it open,
training an ear to the soft conversation within.

"What?  Are you kidding me?"

"Command will only go so far on this, Charlie. 
Until we have more concrete evidence, they're
holding up on the full-scale search of the docks."

"But the car was abandoned there!  And Mulder
swears they were Chinese."

"Did he see faces?"

"I don't know.  I haven't had a chance to question
him at length."

"Don't bother.  Mulder was given a hefty dose of
morphine last night, Charlie.  With his history of
addiction, the brass would never believe anything
he said.  They'd chalk it up to wishful thinking,
an hallucination."

"But he wasn't given the morphine until after they
took him upstairs!"

Sam gritted his teeth, not liking at all the way
things were going down.  It was just like the
military to drag its feet.  Whether it was a pair
of new boots or the summoning of a dragnet, it
still took multiple copies and seven signatures. 
Skinner was a Rear Admiral, but even he had to
answer to many more above him.

"Lately, Mulder's been making noise about things he
shouldn't, Charlie.  Poking his nose where he has
no business."

"Are you saying this is payback?"

Payback?  What the hell had Fox gotten into?  It
didn't matter, as far as Sam was concerned.  They
should take care of their own.

"I'm saying we have to practically have Chang in
our back pocket to get them to believe us right
now.  He's been declared officially dead, you
know."

"They didn't find a body."

"A four hundred foot freighter exploded into
smithereens, Charlie.  They picked up dime sized
pieces of metal a block away.  Everything,
*everything* was obliterated.  You'll never make
them believe anyone could survive that."

"Wait... Dana told me she saw something - a tattoo
of a bird.  A phoenix, specifically.  On the hand
of the guy in the passenger seat.  Sound familiar?"

"Mei Feng.  The name of the vessel Chang used last
time.  Look, Charlie, I agree that something's just
not right about all this.  And I'd lay money on it
Chang has a hand in it.  But the higher-ups just
aren't buying it right now.  At least not until we
have more proof.  The guards will remain at my
discretion until Mulder and Scully are released
from the hospital.  I'll even put a couple of men
on the house; but only for a few days at the most
before anyone catches on.  Other than that, there's
nothing more we can do."

"Nothing official, you mean."

As silence drifted in the room, Sam's estimation of
Charlie soared.  Now *that* was more like it.

"I could get busted to ship's cook for even
listening to this talk, you know."  Though
Skinner's voice held warning, it also held
interest.

In that moment, the stoic man took an exalted seat
right beside Charlie in Sam's mind.

"Cook?  I'll be lucky if I get stuck cleaning
toilets the rest of my life.  And I'm no good at
mopping up piss, sir."

"So..."

"So."  Another silence; one of them shifted, his
shoes scraping the linoleum.  "How are you at
peeling potatoes, sir?"

"Back in '22, I was told I made the meanest hooch
on the base.  Volstead Act, my ass."

Sam couldn't see the smiles, but he heard them. 
For the hundredth time since his return, he counted
his brother a lucky man.

"Well.  *Unofficially*, I'd say we have a lot of
potatoes to peel."

"And a rat to dig out of the sewer."  Skinner
cleared his throat, wiping away all traces of
humor.  "Charlie, I'll do what I can to help, but
you know I can't make a big production out of it."

"Neither can I.  But we have to think of
something," Charlie said.  "We can't just sit
around.  It could be weeks before Chang makes
another move.  The wait won't be good for Dana."

"I agree."  Skinner paused; Sam could feel his mind
working.  "Something has to be done to flush out
Chang."

"A decoy?"

"Possibly.  But we'd have to make it look damned
good.  Chang's not a fool; even the slightest slip-
up and he'd go so deep we'd never find him."

A decoy?  Sam's mind raced at the suggestion. 
Really, it was perfect.  Make it so irresistible to
Chang he'd make a bold, quick move.  And Sam knew
just the person for the job.

"Get me a potato peeler, fellas," he said, swinging
the door open.  "I'm your man."

Twin looks of surprise quickly hardened into anger. 
Skinner found his voice first, drawing his eyebrows
together in a scowl.  "You've got two seconds to
explain, mister."

Sam donned his most charming smile.  "Hate to
remind you, Admiral... but I'm no longer in the
service."

"Sam, this is a matter of national security." 
Charlie spoke in a more civil manner, eyeing
Skinner with trepidation.  

"National security?  Seems to me you two are about
to go rogue.  And I want to be in on it."

"You're treading on dangerous ground, Mr. Mulder,"
Skinner said.  "I could have you arrested for
interfering with a federal investigation."

"And risk getting yourselves implicated?  Not to
mention the chance you'd take on Chang skipping the
country when you tip your hand," he answered,
moving into the room.  "You're discussing my
family's safety.  I want to know what's going on. 
And I want to help."

"We can handle it without your help, thank you very
much," Skinner growled in dismissal, turning back
to Charlie to say, "Let me know -"

"Like you've handled it so far?" Sam butted in with
a flash of anger, insinuating himself into their
plans as well as their cozy sphere as he walked
forward.  "My brother and his wife are lucky to be
alive, no thanks to you, *Admiral*," he sneered. 
"Looks to me like someone dropped the ball on
this."

"I accept full responsibility," Skinner replied,
bristling.  "Just as I promise Chang won't get near
them again, even if I have to watch over them
myself.  Now, if you don't get out of my face, I'll
have you removed.  Is that clear?"

"You and what army?  Those two idiots outside?  Fox
managed to slip past them doped to the gills - what
makes you think they can handle me?"

"Listen, buddy -"

Charlie stepped between them with a stern, "Sir, we
don't have time for this."

Skinner backed off, though he eyed Sam with
disdain.  "You're right.  I believe you have more
access to the right people, Charlie.  I expect to
hear from you before the end of the day."  With
another scathing look at Sam, he added, "If you
breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll see you
doing time in Leavenworth.  Understand?"  He
brushed past Sam with intimidation, leaving the
room.

"Access to the right people?" Sam asked a wilting
Charlie, totally ignoring Skinner's threat.  "What
did he mean?"

Charlie rubbed at his neck with one hand, hanging
his head.  "Sam, I really don't think you want to
get involved in this.  He's not kidding.  He could
have you arrested."

"He's setting up someone to pose as Fox, isn't he?"
Sam pressed.  "Charlie, I can do that."

"What?  You can't be serious."

"Look, when you first saw me last night, you
thought I was Fox, didn't you?"

Charlie flushed, taking a step back from Sam's
fierce stare.  "That's not the point, Sam.  Mulder
would have my ass if I let you in on this.  Not to
mention yours."

"They'll be here and safe, won't they?  He doesn't
have to know, Charlie.  You know I could pass for
Fox any day of the week.  Hell, even the uniform
would fit me!  And I know more about my own brother
and his habits more than anyone."

"Skinner won't go for it."

"Who says he has to know either?  He told you to
find someone, Charlie.  By the time he realizes
it's me - *if* he even finds out - it'll be too
late.  I'll already be in."

"You're not qualified, Sam.  Sorry."  Charlie made
for the door, but Sam stopped him with a hand on
his arm.

"It's not like you can requisition a decoy from the
supply room, Charlie.  All I have to do is look
like Fox, and you know it.  Skinner said it himself
- one little mistake and Chang waits anotther year
to resurface.  Do you really think Fox is going to
sit still for that long?"  Charlie stood in
silence, and Sam pounced on his moment of
hesitation.  "I'm the only one who can pull this
off, Charlie.  You've got to let me try."

Fatigue lined Charlie's face and for a moment, Sam
almost backed down.  The man obviously loved his
sister just as Sam did Fox, and neither of them
wanted the sinister presence of Chang to hang over
their families any longer than necessary.  Which
made Sam's plan more insistent, in his mind.  He
would do whatever had to be done to free them all
of the danger that lurked beyond the hospital
walls.  He counted on Charlie to do the same, and
he didn't hesitate to point it out.

"If it were your brother, you'd do it."

"It's my job," Charlie said, shrugging off the
detaining hand.

"That's bullshit.  You'd do it for Dana in a
heartbeat, job or not."  Again, Charlie paused and
Sam put in a final word.  "I won't get in the way,
Charlie.  Just sit there and look pretty, like a
good little duck."

Charlie finally sighed, and Sam knew he'd won even
before the next word came out of his mouth.  "All
right."  He raised a warning finger.  "Nothing
fancy, though.  Skinner can assign a couple of men
to watch the house, but that's as far as he can go. 
The first sign of Chang, you let them handle it. 
You get yourself in the middle when it goes down
and Mulder will have to get in line behind me to
kick your ass.  Got it?"

"Got it."  Exhilaration soared within him for an
instant, then quickly faded.  "One thing, Charlie."

"Just one?  Haven't you made my life miserable
enough?"

Sam ignored his growl, lowering his voice.  "Don't
tell Emma."

"Tell Emma?" Charlie was incredulous.  "Sam, if you
do this, I can't tell *anyone*.  That's the way it
works.  Me, you, Skinner - we might as well be
invisible for all the help we'll get."  He rolled
his eyes.  "You do understand the only thing
standing between you and Chang are a few men?  Men
who will have to hide, which means they won't
exactly stick to you like glue."

"I understand."  Sam had faith in his ability to
prevail.  He'd never backed down from a fight and
his confidence knew no bounds.  "Just let me know
what I have to do."

Charlie waved a dismissing hand.  "Just stay put
for a few hours while I line things up."

"What's to line up?"  Sam was itching to go; he'd
not felt so ready since the last time he'd jumped
from an airplane.

"For one thing, we have to convince Mulder to cool
his heels for a while."

"No problem.  He can hardly move."

"But he'll want to know what we're doing about all
this."

"Put him off for a few days.  Keep telling him
you're searching the docks.  That should be enough
to satisfy him."

"And you say you know your brother better than
anyone?"

Sam waved off Charlie's scoffing.  "Just do it. 
Dana's in no condition to be going anywhere and he
won't want to leave her, anyway.  We have to get
moving on this Charlie.  The sooner the better."

"Not so fast, Sam.  We have to find someone to play
Dana.  You think Chang would believe Mulder walking
out of here without his wife?"

When hell froze over, Sam thought.  "You've got a
point."

"I'll have to work on that one," Charlie muttered. 
Sam let him have his derision without a word, too
satisfied to bite back.  "Maybe just someone to
ride to the house with you.  We can sneak her out
after a while.  Hell, I'll do it myself if I have
to."

"You?"  Sam laughed, eyeing Charlie's tall form. 
"Hate to break it to you, pal... but you'd never
squeeze into the dress."

"In an ambulance, moron.  Put me on a gurney, cover
me up, and no one will know.  Actually, that's not
a bad idea.  I could stay in the house with you."

Sam gave Charlie's wedding ring a pointed look. 
"And have your wife wondering where you are over
the holidays?"

"You're right."  Charlie scrubbed a hand over his
face.  "I'll think of something.  Don't worry."

"You're my hero, darling Dana," Sam replied with a
silly grin.

"Idiot."  Charlie straightened, his face stern. 
"I'll be in touch.  Try not to look too happy, Sam. 
This won't be easy."

Sam watched Charlie exit through the opposite door,
a broad smile taking shape on his face.  At last,
he had purpose.

"Easy?  God damned duck soup," he murmured with
satisfaction, following Charlie into the hallway.


**********


Duck soup, huh?

Emma fumed, her slight guilt at eavesdropping
vanishing in an instant.  She clutched the tray of
coffee cups with shaking, angry hands, glad she'd
been waved away from the waiting room by the guards
in the hall.  Little did they know there was
another door around the corner.  Little did Charlie
know there were stairs on this side of the floor.

Little did Sam know she wasn't about to let him go
it alone.

She set the tray on the floor and practically flew
down the stairs.  By the time she made it to the
outer door on the first floor, she was face to face
with Charlie.

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing her with
suspicion.  She crossed her arms and gave him a
brilliant smile, lifting her chin.

"Charlie," she purred.  "My favorite cousin."

"Oh Christ," he said, backing away slowly.  "Not
you too."

"Don't swear.  And confess, while you're at it."

Charlie paled at the determined gleam in her eye. 
"I don't know what you think you've heard, Emma,
but -"

"Oh, I haven't heard such good stuff since I
listened to you and Darcy Riordan slurp all over
each other in Da's storeroom the night before you
got shipped out.  What did she call you back then?"

"I was drunk and Darcy Riordan attacked me."  Anger
made his cheeks harden.  "No wonder you hooked up
with that jock upstairs.  Get lost, Emma.  And take
your big ears with you."

Emma advanced, grabbing the lapel of his coat to
prevent his retreat.  Nose to nose, she said
softly, "Don't you dare tell me to get lost, or
you'll find yourself eating Christmas dinner in the
doghouse."

"Oh yeah?  How you figure that?  You've got nothing
on me, Pumpkinhead."  He moved past her, sporting a
haughty look reminiscent of their days as children,
when he never failed to torment her.

The pet name - one only Charlie used - infuriated
her to this day.  But it only reinforced her
determination to get what she wanted from her old
nemesis.  The days were gone when he could pull on
her braids and get away with it.

"Of course, I guess with Ellen being so far away at
college and you not *really* being engaged yet...
but then again, you *did* have an understanding of
sorts, and she never did like the way Darcy sniffed
around you all the time.  Still doesn't, to this
day."

"Emma," he growled, clenching his teeth.  "I'm
leaving now."

"I know what you're up to with Sam."

Charlie stopped in mid-stride, turning to look at
her with narrowed eyes.  "You don't know a damned
thing."

"Oh, don't give me that," she said, advancing. 
"Now, do you want to argue out here in the open -
where I can guarantee bigger ears than mine - or
would you rather take this to the lounge?"

"You're interfering with government business,
Emma."

She grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction
of the doctor's lounge.

"You made it my business ten minutes ago, Charlie. 
Get moving, Fizzle Lips."

He flushed all the way up to his hairline, giving
her a haughty, defensive look.  "She called me
'Sizzle Lips', not 'Fizzle Lips'."

She smiled, sensing victory.



End Chapter Twenty-Five