An Unchanged Soul
Chapter Twenty-Seven


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Spanking?

"You wouldn't," she gasped as she stumbled against
his hold, her chest meeting the solid bulk of his.

"Wouldn't I?" His face in the semi-darkness was
forbidding, his clasp unbreakable.  "Seems to me
somebody should have taken a switch to you long
ago."

Emma gulped, her voice unwillingly feeble as she
looked up into his narrow-eyed fury.  "Da would
never lay a finger on me."

"Something tells me he might want to when he finds
out about this."  One hand reached around the door
frame to feel for the living room; he never
loosened his hold on her, as if he expected her to
barricade herself in the bedroom the second he let
her go.

A passing car illuminated the room briefly.  In the
washed-out white of eerie, momentary lighting he
looked more daunting than ever, scanning her form
with sheer fury.  The light faded just as quickly
as it had come, Sam finally letting her go as he
gave the gun in his hand a startled look.  He
walked to the living room, carefully laying it down
on the coffee table.  Hands resting on the mantel,
he took a deep breath, then another.

Emma breathed easier herself, the dangerous weapon
at last out of his hand.

"Sam -"

"Just don't say a word, Emma.  Give me a minute."

Emma knew better than to argue; he was fighting
hard for control of his anger.  She wouldn't wait
forever, though.  This high-handed attitude of his
was insulting.  Yes, she'd put herself in Dana's
place.  Yes, she knew he wouldn't like it.  But
neither did she like the fact he'd done basically
the same without consulting her.

The road went both ways.  It was time he realized
that and acted accordingly.

His overcoat and hat came off, flung to the couch
with fisted hands.  Back still to her, he said
softly, "Maybe I ought to spank you.  God knows you
need it."

"You lay one hand on me Sam Mulder, and I'll -"

"You'll what?" He faced her, his voice shaking with
rage.  "Scream for your father?  Your brothers?  In
case you hadn't noticed, Emma, we're all alone. 
Alone and very vulnerable."

"But you have the radio, don't you?" she offered in
a hopeful voice.

"God damn it, aren't you listening to me?"

She carefully took a step forward with a tenuous
calm.  "There's no need to..." Her admonishment of
his swearing died a swift, cowardly death at the
stormy glare he bestowed upon her.  Straightening
her coat, she lifted her chin and finished, "...get
all huffy.  Charlie needed someone to be Dana, and
I volunteered."

"Volunteered?"  Disbelief made him sneer.  "That's
bullshit.  Charlie wouldn't have let you near Chang
unless you twisted his arm some way."

Her silence gave her away, as did the telltale
flush of her cheeks.

Sam closed in on her, narrowing his gaze.  "What
did you do to him, Emma?"

"Do?  Nothing.  He humiliated me, in case you
hadn't noticed.  He told you I was a - a woman of
easy virtue!" she sputtered, still miffed at the
fun he'd had at her expense.  Revenge would be
sweet, but for now it rankled as she pictured
Charlie driving home in gales of laughter.

"You didn't have any trouble acting the part, now
did you?"

Blanching, she took a step back.  "I can't believe
you said that."

He had the grace to look ashamed.  "I'm sorry." 
His apology lasted but an instant, as his face
hardened once again.  His feet couldn't stay still,
as he threatened to wear a hole in the rug.  "Damn
it, Emma!  Why'd you do this?"

Did he not see that she worried about him?  That
her whole world depended on knowing he was safe? 
Unless he cared so little for himself, and in turn,
her, that he threw caution to the wind at will.

"Why did *you* do this, Sam?" she countered,
searching his stony face for any sign of
understanding.  "When you knew I wouldn't be happy
about it, you did it anyway."

"I did it because I was the logical choice, Emma."

"Charlie could have gotten anyone to throw on a
uniform and hat.  He has people trained for this
sort of stuff.  I don't understand why it had to be
you."

"It doesn't matter.  It *is* me, and that's final."

Agitation cloaked him as he moved before her; he
never was all that easy to read, and it seemed
she'd hit a sore spot with her questioning.  She'd
never seen Sam truly angry, and she amended her
earlier thoughts - anger wasn't motivating this
response now.

"It matters to me, Sam."

"What matters more is why you followed me, Emma." 
He stopped before her, looking her up and down with
anxious concern.  "This was stupid.  Really
stupid."

Crossing her arms defensively, she stared right
back.  "No more than what you did, in my opinion."

The impasse lasted for several long seconds, her
defiance matching his in breadth and strength.  She
wasn't backing down; the whole point of the
exercise was to make him think before he acted.  If
they had any chance at a future together, he had to
learn to quit acting the rogue.

Sam was the first to break the standoff, as he
pulled her into the living room, his free hand
reaching into his pocket. "This is useless," he
muttered, leaving her behind as he fumbled in his
pocket.  A shadow in his palm alerted her to his
plan before he even began speaking into it.

The radio!  No, she couldn't let him call the men
outside.  "Sam, you can't call them so soon.  What
if Chang's men are watching?"

"Like I said, Mrs. Mulder has suffered a relapse
and must return to the hospital immediately," he
growled, cursing under his breath at the lack of
light.  He fumbled with a switch on the side, his
face relaxing a bit with satisfaction as he found
the power button.  Emma took one last bold chance
at stalling him, raising her voice.

"Would you have them think Dana's returned to such
a vulnerable place?  And that Fox is staying here?"

Fox would never leave his wife alone anywhere after
the events of the past few days, and Sam knew it
just as she did.  His call would be too precipitous
and risky.  The radio was supposed to be used only
in emergencies.  Any superfluous outside contact
with Charlie's men presented the opportunity for
discovery.

"Would Fox leave her alone for even a moment,
especially in her condition?  Think, Sam."  She
pressed on, moving closer.  "If I go now, anyone
watching will never believe it."

Emma saw the moment her words sank in.  Sam
practically threw the radio onto the couch with a
vehement, hissing "shit" and reached for the lamp.


**********


It was a fairly decent night, the first in several
days it hadn't rained or been miserably cold.  But
the stillness allowed the lingering damp to seep
under his coat, and he hated it.  Ellen wanted snow
for Christmas; he just agreed with a smile, even
though he wasn't a winter person.  Those war years
spent in Hawaii had thinned his blood and taken the
Chesapeake grit right out of his bones.  He
suppressed a shiver as he set the brake and threw
open the door.  Almost balmy compare to recent
days, but not warm enough for Charlie Scully, who
wished for a tropical sun.

A Washington assignment.  Right up the ladder of
government success.  Close to family and friends. 
Keep telling yourself that, Charles Andrew, he
mused with a grimace.

The leftover runoff squished into his shoes as he
stepped right into a puddle.  He cursed, slamming
his car door shut to run to the sedan parked ahead. 
As he slipped into the passenger seat, he didn't
bother with a traditional greeting.
  
"Turn the heat on," he muttered to the man keeping
watch.  The smell of strong brew reached his nose. 
"And give me some of that coffee."

"I didn't hear a 'please', Charlie."  Smooth as
silk, the voice hidden behind the upturned collar
of the coat added, "What would the missus say?"

Charlie bit back a retort, forcing himself to
answer politely.  "Please."

"That's better."  A gloved hand passed the thermos;
Charlie shivered anew under the quick, steely
glance.  Those eyes were almost lost under the brim
of a black hat, but they still captured every ounce
of movement in the immediate surroundings, gleaming
like twin circles of mercury.  Liquid and yet cold,
eerie in their near unholy concentration on the
street.  It was as if they walked an imaginary
perimeter around Mulder's house, slowly shifting
back and forth. "Don't stay long, understand?"

"I know.  I just wanted to check in before I went
home.  You should have let me find you a partner -"

"Don't need one."

"But this could get lengthy.  Chang's not one to
rush into things."

"I've pulled seventy-two hours straight before, in
much worse circumstances, Charlie.  Drop it."  A
subtle shift in tone made a shiver skip across
Charlie's skin.  "Besides, something tells me Chang
won't wait quite as long as you think."

"How do you know?"  He hated to be unprepared for
anything.  Intelligence and experience had shown
him Chang was a very patient adversary.  But
instinct counted for a helluva lot in their line of
work, and he couldn't discount gut feelings.

"Because he's tried once already.  Even if you've
come up with a plausible cover story for the
accident, Chang knows *you* know differently,
Charlie.  He can't take the chance you don't.  In
his world, he has to plan for every eventuality. 
Which means he knows Dana saw the man in the car. 
He has to strike again before you catch up with
him.  My gut says he won't wait too long, believe
me."

The man beside him was seasoned and hard bitten. 
Older than Charlie by not so many years, he was
much more ancient in experience.  This was a man
Charlie had followed into service - if Skinner
thought Mulder an ideal operative, then this man
was an undercover god.  His own family had no idea
what he did for the government.  On the chance he
might be nearby, Charlie had pooled his resources
and called him in.  It was a stroke of luck to have
him so close and available.  It hadn't taken but a
brief explanation to have him volunteer.  Charlie
couldn't have asked for a better addition to the
operation, or for a more interested party to their
family troubles.

Hell, Dan was kin, even though he didn't recognize
the bond.  Not for lack of trying on the Scullys'
part; the deliberate distance was one-sided,
something Charlie and his relatives accepted but
hoped one day would change.  None of that mattered,
however.  Dan understood what they all did - they
stood by their own.  Especially in times of need.

And if Dan said Chang wouldn't wait, Charlie
believed him.  He forced his nerves to settle down,
trying to emulate the master.

"Notice anything unusual?" he asked, rolling the
thermos between his cold hands.  He noticed the
attached cup hadn't been used; it probably wouldn't
be.  Dan needed no stimulant to keep him alert.

"Not much," came the short reply.  Then, "Other
than the same car has circled the block three times
already."  His nod was barely imperceptible.

Charlie followed the hint with his gaze, swallowing
hard.  A dark blue Ford crept past them to turn the
corner and he caught his breath.  How had he missed
that?  Then - what the hell had he been thinking? 
Despite his own confidence in his abilities, and
especially those of the man sitting beside him,
he'd just proven how unobservant he could be when
it mattered most.

He swore as he felt the sting of spilled coffee. 
Brushing off his pants, he set the overflowing cup
on the dash.  "Anybody we know?"

The only sign of rising anxiety from the man behind
the wheel was a slow slide of his hand toward the
gun on the seat.  His face betrayed nothing.  But
his eyes darted to the rearview mirror as the
Ford's lights came up behind them once again.

"Can't tell.  Heavy coat, dark hat.  Definitely
male, though."  A blast of cold air hit the
interior as the driver's door swung open.  "Stay
here."

"Wait!"  Though he wasn't an old hand at danger
like this man was, Charlie couldn't let him
confront the guy alone.  By the time he'd juggled
the thermos to the floor and gotten his own door
open, the Ford was idling beside them.  He picked
his head up, his muscles locking with temporary
fear.

A snap of light from the Mulder house caught his
eye; had Sam noticed the commotion outside?  Would
they come running?  The thought had him moving from
his frozen crouch between the door and the
passenger seat.  All hell was about to break loose.

"Shit," Charlie muttered, his fingers clenching
over the gun in his belt.  He hoped Sam had the
good sense to stay inside.


**********


For long, tense minutes, Sam prowled the house as
Emma sat in a defiant ball on Mulder's overstuffed
chair.  Her feet barely touched the floor and she
gripped the arms in an effort to keep from sinking
into its depths.  It was bad enough Sam felt she
didn't belong here; the way the chair dwarfed her
slight form would surely reinforce his perception
of her as immature and incompetent.

But when one was ordered by a furious Sam to 'sit
and don't move a hair', it was wise to cooperate. 
For the moment.  She was only biding her time,
summoning her own inner resources for the argument
to come.  Over and over she told herself that, as
she listened to Sam stomp around.

She wasn't frightened; the fluttering in her
stomach was simply an attack of nerves.  Sam would
try his best to intimidate her, but he'd never hurt
her.  Once he listened to reason, he'd see her
actions were for the best.  No sense in tempting
discovery by bringing in too many unknowns on
Charlie's operation.  Even her stubborn cousin
hadn't taken all that long to convince - with or
without her bit of blackmail.  Charlie had the good
sense to realize she was the perfect replacement
for Dana.  What could a few hours posing and
posturing as Chang's target hurt?  Putting Sam in
as Mulder was no different, in her opinion.  He was
kin, he was vulnerable, he was no more trained in
espionage than she was - she'd bet her bottom
dollar Mulder would hit the ceiling if he knew Sam
had exposed himself this way to Chang's vengeance.

Nope, no difference.  She sat up straighter, her
ears picking up Sam's descent down the stairs.

She curled her fingers together to stop their
slight tremor, then reached up to unpin the overly
large hat.  But the veil proved troublesome,
snagging on the pins.  Emma let out a peeved breath
and kept fighting the thing.

"Leave it on."  Sam's grinding words sailed by her
head; she glared at him as he flopped into a chair
across the room, his own hat flying to the coffee
table.  He pinched his face right back at her, his
next statement no less unbending.  "You're not
moving from that chair until Charlie comes to get
you."

Her lips pursed over the bubbling tirade.  Sam was
spoiling for a fight and she wouldn't give him the
satisfaction.  "What if I need the bathroom?"

"Hold it."

"What if the house falls down around my ears?"

"Too bad."

Tired of being treated like a child, she snapped,
"What if Chang marches through that door?"

He shifted and she gasped at the sight of gunmetal
gray.  The weapon fit his hand like it was born to
be there; he cradled it in his lap with a grim
smile.  "Don't get in the way."  Tilting his head
to one side, his smile became almost deadly in its
coldness.  "Oh, wait a minute - you've already done
that, haven't you?"

"Sam -"

"Just what am I supposed to do if Chang *does* pay
us a visit, huh Emma?"  She'd opened the flood
gates to his anger, and there was no stopping it. 
"Did you think of that?  How will I get the upper
hand if I have to think about your safety?"

Coloring, she let her hands fall from her hat as
she gave in to the depths of the chair.  "If it
wasn't me, it would have been some other woman. 
You can't deny you would have protected her, too."

"That would be different.  We're talking about you,
not a stranger."  He looked away, obviously
uncomfortable with her tack.  "Enough.  You're
leaving, and that's final."

But she wasn't about to let him off so easy.  "What
about the man following *you*, Sam?  You trade one
stalker for another, is that it?"

"He's no longer an issue."

"Just like that," she snorted, disbelieving.

"Just like that," he answered quietly, his face
averted yet somber.

He wasn't lying, that was certain.  Something had
happened - something he hadn't felt the need to
share.  She was becoming very weary of the way he
withheld information.

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"No."

Sudden sadness filled her chest; if he couldn't be
open with her about things like this, how could she
expect him to be the man she needed in her life?
Would he ever admit he loved her?  She knew it was
so, but it would be awfully nice to hear the words. 
Then again, the power given with the declaration
would be the ultimate sacrifice.  In Sam's mind, he
would be held accountable.  To her, to their
relationship.  Something he'd never done with
anyone, not even his own brother, much as he loved
Mulder.

She didn't know if she could live that way.  Her
family was the epitome of giving and sharing, and
Sam's reluctance to do either was a major stumbling
block.  She'd thought to force him to see she was
an important part of his life with this intrusion
into the operation; now she wasn't sure about
anything.

Most especially where they'd go from here.

With a curse, Sam stood.  Emma, startled from her
introspection, raised her head.  "What?"

"A car... I can hear it idling on the street out
front."  He moved to one side of the window, using
a finger to slowly crack the curtains.  "Damn."

Emma stood, fear gripping her hands into a fierce
clasp over the pillow she still carried.  "What?"
she said again, this time with breathless urgency.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. 
She was no agent like Charlie, nor had she been
trained to use guns like Sam.  Her bravado in the
face of danger as she'd bribed Charlie was dead and
gone, replaced by a dragging cowardice.

The way Sam quickly killed the lamp didn't help,
not did his grim, shadowy look.

"Upstairs, Emma."  He pulled her from the chair. 
"Now!"


**********


A kid.  A God damned kid.  Cruising the street in
search of his equally idiotic girlfriend, who was
supposed to sneak out of her house to meet him. 
After a terse "Go home," and a subtle flip of Dan's
ID, Charlie watched the Ford peel rubber as it sped
away.

The two men tried their best to walk nonchalantly
back to the car.  Once inside, Charlie slumped into
his seat.  What they'd had to do was risky.  Simply
sitting on the street in plain view was asking for
attention.  They had to come up with a better plan
before they attracted the wrong kind of notice.

"I don't like this, Charlie."

He'd known that was coming.  "Neither do I.  We
have to find a way to keep out of sight."

"Agreed.  The less we stay off the street, the
better."  A knowing glance accompanied the deadly
serious warning.  "Too much activity will scare off
Chang.  You realize that, don't you?"

"Or make him too damned reckless.  Either way, we
lose."

He didn't have to explain; the last thing they
needed was civvie casualties.  Somehow they had to
let Chang get close enough without letting him get
too close.  Chang wouldn't hesitate to blow away
anyone who got in the way, including Mulder's
neighbors.

"Nothing's going to stop him this time."  His
partner's face was grim yet determined.  "Except
us.  He won't get past me, Charlie.  I have even
more reason than most on this one."

He didn't have to mention Emma's name.  Charlie
thanked the heavens for the dark interior of the
car, as he felt his face grow warm.  "I couldn't
stop her, you know.  Even if I'd hog-tied her,
she'd have found a way to follow."

It was the first sign of emotion from his
companion, as the vigilant gaze faltered in a
blink.  The stern chin lowered just a fraction as
his lips pursed.  "I know.  Doesn't mean I have to
like it."

"So what do we do?"

Dan's eyes narrowed on a spot in the black
distance.  "Is that a 'for sale' sign over there?"

Charlie noticed the faint, weathered lettering on a
puny sign a couple of doors down.  Dread at what he
knew was coming lowered his voice, "We can't just
break in -"

"*I* can do what I damn well please, Charlie.  It's
a perfect spot for surveillance."

"But what if someone sees and calls the police?"

"They won't, believe me.  Get out."

"What?"

"Time for you to go, Charlie."

"What about you?"

"I'll ditch the car and settle in as the Mulder's
new neighbor."  A flash of white teeth in a dark
face came and went in an instant, as he nodded at
Charlie's radio.  "Tell 'em not to worry.  I'll be
watching."

Charlie reached into his pocket for his car keys. 
"I don't like leaving you here alone, Dan."

A grim smile, more cold than ever, flashed in the
dark car.  "Killing is better done alone.  You know
that, Charlie."

A shudder passed through Charlie at the casual talk
of killing.  But he knew it would come to that with
Chang; there was no other option.  The crime boss
wouldn't go quietly into a jail cell.

He spoke Sam's name into the radio, trying his best
to ignore the prickle of dread burgeoning within. 
This was just a small glitch in the plan.  No need
to worry.  Every plan warranted modification, even
once set in motion.

Despite the warmth of the car, Charlie was again
very cold.


**********


Sam picked up the radio, frustration edging his
voice.  "What the hell was that?"  Having gotten
Emma safe upstairs, he'd rushed back down for a
deadly confrontation, only to hear Charlie barking
a summons from the depths of the couch.

"Just a kid cruising.  False alarm.  Listen Sam, we
can't stay out on the street much longer.  We
scared off the kid, but he gave us a few curious
looks.  This isn't the kind of neighborhood where
someone can just loiter without notice."

Which was good, if it meant the nosy neighbors
could lend a hand with suspicious activity.  On the
other hand, that kind of curiosity pretty much
prohibited them from keeping watch.

"So now what?" he asked, already weary of the cat-
and-mouse game.  Emma's presence hadn't helped in
the least.

"Change in plans.  We're gonna ditch the car."

"What?"

"Empty house across the street.  A bit too far away
for my tastes, but it'll have to do.  We've already
attracted too much attention just sitting here."

Sam parted the curtains with a slow sweep of his
finger.  Charlie was right; already he could see a
few curious looks through windows here and there. 
Before long, a police cruiser would show up.  It
was inevitable.

"I'm leaving," Charlie continued.  "You need
anything, just pick up the radio and tell Dan."

"Dan?"  Sam swallowed, feeling uneasiness creep up
his throat.  "That's it?  One guy?  Charlie, you
told me -"

"Best I could do, Sam.  Believe me, when I say he's
the best, he's the best."

Sam felt a spurt of dismay at the change in plans. 
One guy against Chang's men?  Better yet - one guy
moving further away.  Charlie leaving this guy
alone, no less.  Still, there was one kink in the
works he'd love to have removed with Charlie's
departure.  "Emma's here, Charlie.  But you know
that already, don't you?"  He heard the revving of
an engine, the slamming of a car door, and
Charlie's grumbling over swift footsteps.

"Can't take her out, Sam.  Chancing a visit after
this kid's interruption would be too risky.  Maybe
tomorrow night.  Just sit tight; we'll think of
something tomorrow."

"How the hell can I sit tight with Emma underfoot? 
For that matter, how am I supposed to make *her*
sit still?"

"Easy.  Tie her up.  You have my permission."

"Oh, thanks," Sam remarked dryly, wanting to get
his hands on Charlie for bowing to Emma's certain
blackmail.  What a coward.

"Tell her she has to stay locked in the bedroom. 
Dan's orders."

"Who the hell is this Dan, anyway?"

"Quite possibly the only person besides her father
she might listen to."

Sam snorted, wondering if such a thing was
possible.  "Then put him on.  I'd like to listen to
him work his magic."

Charlie ignored the request with a sigh.  "Look,
Sam... she's gone tomorrow night at the latest.  I
promise, okay?"

From his vantage point at the window, Sam saw a
trail of exhaust burst to life down the block. 
"Charlie, I'm gonna kick your ass when this is
over."

"You'll have to get in line, Sam," came the
chuckled reply.  "Behind my wife, Uncle Mike, Dana,
Aidan, Joseph, Tommy -"

"As long as they save a piece of you for me, I'll
be satisfied.  And if I have any energy left after
paddling your accomplice."

"Good night, Sam.  Give Emma a good lick for me,
would you?"

Sam sighed, letting Charlie sign off. He knew damn
well he wouldn't lay a finger on Emma, despite all
the teasing - and his own desire to take a switch
to her.  He still wanted her away from there - that
hadn't changed.  But having a man on the job who
could maybe handle her made him feel a whole lot
better. She might - *might* - cooperate if she had
to answer to a higher authority.  She certainly had
no qualms about defying Sam's wishes.

Maybe it was one of the nuns from her grade school. 
Better yet, her priest.  Would she dare talk back
to a man of the cloth?  No way.  If there was one
person alive who could rein her in, it was someone
holding the threat of excommunication over her
head.

Then again, he wasn't sure of anything where Emma
was concerned.  This latest stunt was proof of
that.

Walking up the stairs, he felt a grin blossom on
his face, despite his residual anger.  A bit of fun
in an otherwise tense situation waited for him up
those stairs.  He couldn't wait to drop the name of
the man Charlie said could control his troublesome
little interloper.

He didn't find her where he expected she'd be. 
When he'd told her to go upstairs, she hadn't
hesitated.  Though he was still pretty angry with
her, he admired her quick compliance.  He crept
about the bedrooms, fully expecting a lamp to come
crashing down on his head as she put up a feisty
defense against an unknown menace.  So it was with
a soft voice he called out, "Emma?" over and over.

He looked warily behind every door, padded on heavy
feet in warning as he surveyed each dim room.  He
didn't want to turn on the lights, so he made his
way by the slim line of a flashlight beam, his gun
safely tucked away in his coat pocket.  After a few
moments with no answer, he allowed panic to grab
hold, stepping out into the hall.

"Emma!"  He demanded she reply with his harsh tone,
though he kept it fairly quiet in light of his
growing fear.

A soft sniffle reached his ears; he didn't waste a
moment in going for the bathroom door.  What he saw
when he flung it open and flipped on the light
killed all anger in an instant.

"I made a mess," she grumbled, crouched on the
floor with a towel in her hand.

After all the anger of the past hour, the sudden
burst of laughter felt damned good.



End Chapter Twenty-Seven