Julia Chapter Eleven Disclaimers, etc. in Headers Undisclosed location West Virginia Mountains July 16, 2001 9:42 p.m. "These are the same types of readings we saw in Bellefleur," Byers said, fingering the stack of printouts. "When Mulder -" He broke off and cleared his throat, flushing at Scully's stare. "So this means...." Scully was calm, staring eerily at him from across the map table. "There are more ships," Krycek finished. "At least six, all cloaked and nearly impossible to detect. Situated in and around the metropolitan D.C. area." "But Washington is supposedly a ghost land," Frohike stated. "A big pile of rubble. Why bother?" Scully had the same question on her mind. The information they'd gathered suggested that Cancerman and his faithful were still in the Washington area. But where? In these ships? Not likely. From what Mulder had described to her of the massive ship in Antarctica, it was not suitable for human inhabitation. She skimmed her hands over the printouts, spreading them out for easier analysis. "Do these readings correspond to the readings in Bellefleur? Are the ships approximately the same size and shape?" Frohike and Byers exchanged glances before moving around the table to join her in looking over the printout. "Basically, yes. With the exception of one or two," Byers added. "One or two? How so?" "Judging from the readings at these two sites," he pointed to the printout, "the ships here are not as broad, as wide in diameter. If I had to guess what they looked like, I'd compare them to the old Saturn V rockets. Monstrous, really." Scully caught her breath with a flash of intuition. "Like skyscrapers?" Byers looked at Frohike, then back. "I suppose so." His eyes widened as he, too, realized what it meant. "If they can effectively hide a spacecraft, then they can hide anything...." "Including skyscrapers," Frohike breathed. Though their primary goal for weeks had been to decipher Cancerman's plan, an opportunity to strike at the head of the beast didn't come along every day. Scully looked at Krycek and could see the wheels turning in his eyes. He addressed the Gunmen. "I need information. Anything you can get me." They scuttled away without another word, and Krycek lifted his gaze to Scully. "You realize what this means, don't you?" he asked quietly. Scully still didn't trust him totally, but over the past weeks, they'd formed an uneasy alliance. Everyone in the bunker knew that certain death waited for them above. And Krycek, while not going out of his way to help in their research, certainly had proven to be very valuable in matters of espionage and arms procurement. He was driven... by revenge or justice, she couldn't tell. His cryptic comment about wanting 'freedom' was sincere; could it be possible that at long last, he was tired of running, of hiding in the shadows? She didn't feel like analyzing Krycek's motives. He'd always played it close to the vest and she was weary of trying to decipher the man behind the menace. But one thing she *could* tell from the gleam in his eye.... "We've found what you're looking for?" Scully couldn't help the small grin that accompanied her reply. He smiled and straightened up from the table. "And what *you're* looking for as well, Scully. The pieces are coming together, just like that ship in Africa. Like a jigsaw puzzle." With one last determined set of his jaw, he added, "And I guarantee that old bastard will stay dead this time." Scully said nothing as she watched him move to hover over the Gunmen at the computers. Her mind was busy leaping to hopeful conclusions. Krycek was one step closer to finding his boss. To freeing himself from the shadow of the conspiracy once and for all, if that was his goal. And she was one step closer to finding Mulder. ********** Washington, D.C. February 9, 2001 6:45 a.m. God, his chest was so soft under her cheek. Softest thing she'd ever known, she thought, burying her nose into the cotton and inhaling deeply. It was unusually soft, actually, pillow soft.... Julia's eyes opened to the familiar feel of her pillow beneath her head. Her heart sank when she realized she was alone. Mulder must have put her in her room sometime during the night, though she'd not even felt the slightest movement. Disappointment flooded her; she so wanted to wake up in his arms. The bedside clock read 6:45 a.m. - Mulder would be gone for his workout by now. He usually returned by 7:30 and was out of the door by 8:00, having eaten breakfast and showered. Julia quickly got out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. She wanted to speak to him this morning. ********** Mulder stopped just inside the door, embarrassment tinging his cheeks a faint pink. If not for the blush of color, she would have likened him to a statue. "Oh... good morning." His eyes avoided hers for a second or two, then came back to hers as she moved to rise. Julia stood at the end of the couch with a hopeful look. She busied her shaky hands with the words. Mulder legs unlocked and he moved to the breakfast cart for his usual orange juice. "Better, now," he replied, then added softly, "though I felt like shit earlier." A small smile graced her features; with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed last night, he must have one hell of a headache. He didn't look as pasty as he had been last night, though. She figured the exercise had made him sweat off a lot of the toxins in his bloodstream. If anything, he looked utterly desirable, in the unkempt, unshaven way of the male animal. Julia felt the familiar heat building, propelling her forward. "I'm sorry about last night, Julia," Mulder said, his quiet voice forestalling her advance. "Guess I had too much to drink. It won't happen again." Won't happen again? Did he mean he wouldn't speak to her again? Julia moved to his side and tugged on his arm, her confusion palpable in the air between them. She wanted it to happen again. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her he loved her.... "Please, Julia," Mulder shrugged off her hand, "I don't feel like talking right now." He sidestepped her on his way to the bedroom, but Julia was quicker, planting herself firmly in his path. "Don't call me that," he growled. she signed furiously. "I should have," he replied tightly. "I should also have kept my drunken mouth shut, but I didn't." Mulder sighed and took a step back from her probing eyes. "Listen, Julia. I don't remember a lot of it, but I know I said a lot of things last night that were uncalled for. No, wait," he grabbed her hands to stop her reply. "I don't know how much you know about me, but it's not good for you to attach yourself to me." He let go of her hands and moved even further away. "You're not her, you never will be. If I could guarantee your safety, I'd send you far away from me." Julia followed his retreat, her hands fumbling with the words. They refused to cooperate, however, lagging so far behind the screaming in her mind, her objections became gibberish. Mulder turned his back on her frustration. "Stop it! Just... stop, Julia." He brought his hands to his head, as if by covering his ears, he could block out her pleas. It hurt Julia just to look at his angry back; the wall of bone and sinew was final in its rigidity. "You don't know what I am - what I've become. If you did, you'd hate me." Oh, Mulder, she thought. I believed once that I could hate you, but not anymore. "You'd hate me," he said again, his words faint. "Then they'd take you away." He dropped his hands and half-turned, his look one of such pain and distress, she felt it in her bones. This has to stop and stop now, she told herself. She planted herself before him like a brick wall, intent upon revealing herself to him. "Sir?" Julia started at the sound of the unfamiliar voice coming from the doorway. A Guardsman hovered just inside the open door, his shiny face a portrait of haughty pride. "Sir, the Appointing Authority needs to see you right away." "I have to get dressed," Mulder sneered, already on his way to his room. "I was instructed to wait, sir." His voice trailed off as Mulder disappeared into his bedroom. Julia turned her back on the Guardsman; his haughty look had disappeared the moment Mulder left the room. In its place was a blatant ogling that unnerved her. Usually, she could stare down any man. But that was in another lifetime; she was now no better than an object, a toy to be played with. Used and abused by the men in power. Not that this pawn in the chain of command would dare say or do anything to her, but his leering was enough to make her turn away and face the window, wrapping her arms around her body in a gesture of anger and humiliation, the pale blue negligee no defense against any man's lust. Would she ever wear *real* clothes again? Ever feel in control? Steel resolve straightened her spine and she vowed not to be intimidated any longer. Knowing any show of defiance was foolhardy, she refrained from challenging the Guardsman by facing him again. She knew there was no way to keep the cold, haughty pride from her eyes. But it didn't stop her from standing as tall as she could, setting her shoulders and letting her hands fall to her sides as fists. One day soon, she would rise from subservience and resume the full posture of freedom. And if temporary abasement was the least she had to endure, she could do it. After all, she'd already traded away a face and an identity; she was willing to bargain with her body and soul, if necessary. Anything to assure victory. "You like it up here, baby?" The murmur floated across the room, just as she knew it would. She could feel the Guardsman's interest sparked by her stiff form. "Fucking that gimp in there?" Julia closed her eyes and counted to ten, hoping for Mulder's return before she gave in to her anger. "They say he can't get it up... that true?" She hissed in a breath and squeezed her eyelids tightly shut. "They say she cut his balls off, too." The voice was now whispering. "You need it, baby, you just ask me... I'll give it to you." That's it, she thought, preparing to turn around. "Get out." Mulder's voice was quiet but deadly in the suddenly stifling air of the room, making Julia start. She hadn't heard him return. "I said, get out." "I was instructed to wait for you... *sir,*" the Guardsman said, the mockery evident in his reply. Did Mulder not have the power she thought he did? First the Guardsman's pressing of her, then the sass of Mulder; he may have been a menial, but he wasn't afraid of the Minister, that was evident. Of course, sexual dalliance with a muted concubine was a punishment-free proposition. Even if a concubine could speak, who would believe her word over that of a trusted soldier of the Appointing Authority? "Then wait outside." Julia didn't turn around, but she could feel Mulder's ire singe her spine. "Do it!" She jumped at his shout; dear God, would they come to blows over this? She should have left the room when the Guardsman first came in. But no, she had to try to talk to Mulder. Had to press the issue even though he was having none of it. "Yes sir," came the soft reply, and she sagged with relief as she heard the Guardsman shuffle away. After the door clicked shut behind the odious man, Julia felt a stir behind her. "I'm sorry," Mulder apologized. "I shouldn't have left you alone with him. It won't happen again. Do you see now what I mean?" Julia hung her head with regret; just how was he going to prevent it? The soldiers in Cancerman's army had free rein and she was basically a slave. If one of them chose to come in here while Mulder was away, she would be at his mercy. It didn't matter that she was well- trained in self-defense, her cover forbade any resistance until the time was right. "You're different, Julia," he continued. "You don't deserve this..." He paused, gesturing at her skimpy attire. "This parading around like a whore. And I won't see you treated that way. *I* won't treat you that way. I'm sorry if I ever did." She turned and raised burning eyes to his face. "Yes, I did," he insisted, "on the very first day. You're not some man's possession, you're a person." Please, Mulder, tell me you want me to be her. Give me some sign, like you did last night. "I'm sorry, Julia. If you knew her at all, you'd know she'd never let any man do this to her." A stab of pain shot through her and she turned away. It was true, every word. Just how far had she lost herself to the mission? She felt a hand on her shoulder and held her breath while he spoke. "You know, Julia, she would never have let any man look at her that way. She knew exactly how to freeze someone with just her eyes." Yes, she did. Julia let out her breath in a sigh, turning to face him. His eyes were soft, the edges crinkled with mirth. She found herself playing along with his turn of mood. her hands said, and she pursed her lips and squinted in an overdramatic Scully pose. Mulder grinned and brought his hand to her temple, lifting her eyebrow with his finger. "Not enough eyebrow action, Julia," he said, smiling. "And your lips should...." He trailed off, sliding his hand down her face to soothe the rigid line of her mouth with his thumb. Julia parted her lips and let the warmth of her breath caress the rough pad of his thumb. Her gaze dropped, mesmerized by the flutter of his pulse underneath the skin of his neck. It jumped as if sensing her scrutiny, moving from a slow, steady rhythm to a rolling throb, in contrast to his husky, slurred words. "Your lips should...." His hand dropped from her face to her neck, skimming the beat of her heart as it leapt up in answer to his. She brought her own to cover the furious flow of blood under the pale scar that disappeared into his sweatshirt. Together they swayed in the morning sunlight, ever closer to one another. "Julia." At his sigh of her name, she raised her eyes to meet his. They were storm-tossed, grey and questioning. He was going to kiss her, she realized. At that moment, she wanted nothing more. All thoughts of revealing herself to him were dismissed; a surge of desire unlike any she'd felt before made her weak. The plans she'd held onto for months evaporated. The universe narrowed in an instant as she rose on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. They were soft and tasted of mint. Slightly parted, they allowed her to explore at her leisure, not responsive yet but not denying either. Just... there... as if he was afraid to deepen the kiss for fear she'd fly away. She counted to five, each second punctuated in her mind with his name, venturing timidly in her search for the soul of the man she knew still lived beneath the scarred facade. When she pulled away, she saw it. It was there in the lax line of his jaw, the pink tinge of his cheekbones, the half-lidded simmer of his dilated eyes. This was Mulder, her Mulder, the one she'd missed for many months. She opened her mouth to welcome him home, wanting to tell him how much she loved him, had always loved him. His voice overpowered her useless attempt. "You can never be her." It was a sad sentence, not meant to hurt her, she knew, but it sent pain through her like a knife. "I'm sorry, Julia." He moved away from the window and gave her his back, his hand worrying the back of his neck. She moved to follow, but his words continued, stronger and more resolute. "I don't want to open myself to you, Julia. It happens every time, you know. I lose myself in the women he gives me, wanting them to be her. But it never works and I'm tired of trying. I told you last night that I believed she was still alive...." So he did remember his drunken confession. "But my mind tells me she's dead, she's not coming back," he finished. His back heaved with a heavy sigh. "And I'm so tired of trying to replace her. So damned tired." Before she could make it to his side, he was gone, locked into his bedroom. Julia was devastated. This was not what she thought would happen when she aligned herself with the Underground in their plan. Mulder was considered the enemy now; she was supposed to lead them here with no regard for his safety or hers. She'd resigned herself long ago that this was, in all likelihood, a suicide mission. Now she wanted to live. She wanted Mulder to live. It didn't matter what he'd been doing for Cancerman all this time; he was still the same man deep inside. She would find a way. Starting with telling him who she was. In ten minutes, he emerged from the bedroom, dressed and ready for work. Julia sat upon the sofa, calm and ready. At the sight of him, she stood, her hands already in motion. Mulder went to the door in swift strides, ignoring her desperate movements, dropping a black nylon bag just to the right of the door. "The cleaning service will be by later today, Julia. If you need, there's a bag in your room - don't use mine." Like they'd just been discussing the weather, Julia thought. Nice to know he could still be so blase about backing away from emotional issues. The thought made Julia pause, realization filling her with sadness. She was wrong. Mulder was never unwilling to talk - she was always the one with communication problems. The irony didn't escape her - now that she was unable to speak, she most wanted to open up to him. "No more, Julia," he pleaded over his shoulder. "We'll talk later, okay? I have work to do." With that, he was gone. Julia was disappointed, but undeterred. She found his pad and pen and sank into his chair, inhaling his scent from the soft leather. If he wouldn't sit still to watch her speak, she would make sure he'd read it. The words flowed from her pen, in the precise, studious handwriting she'd used for years down in the basement. Her first sentence - My name is Dana Scully. On and on she went, pouring out her heart and soul on the paper. But she stopped short of detailing just why she'd been sent here, why she'd volunteered for the mission without a moment's hesitation. She didn't believe that Mulder would give her away to his superior, but it did matter if, by her carelessness, they were caught. If by some chance her letter fell into the wrong hands - which it wouldn't, she'd see to it at the first opportunity - then all she would be revealing would be herself. A renegade with a bold plan to assassinate the Appointing Authority along with his son. After all, she'd learned to lie with a straight face... a face that wasn't her own. And if Mulder was part of them now? Unable to contemplate the remote possibility, Julia dismissed it. He was her Mulder, and she could not fathom otherwise. She was with him at last. Able to see him every day, able to make his existence worthwhile, as he had done for her. They would find a way to stay together; outside, in the horror that so many, herself included, had survived in the months past. The only problem? They were coming. Krycek and his army. They were just waiting for her signal. Which made his listening to her even more imperative. Time was running out. The knock at the door surprised her and she stuffed the pen and paper under the cushions of his chair before rising to greet the servant who'd already pushed open the door. "Miss, do you have anything else?" he asked, holding up Mulder's bag of laundry. He was a small man, soft-spoken. Very different from all the others here; Julia sensed it immediately. "Miss?" He brought his gaze up momentarily from its subservient scrutiny of the carpet. Julia shook her head no, mesmerized by the placid blue of his eyes. Before she could communicate anything else, he threw the bag into the cart behind him and returned with a hanging bag. "Would you see that the Minister gets these?" Julia took the clean laundry and laid it upon the back of the sofa, thanking the man with a nod. As she watched him leave, she was once again struck by how odd his behavior was. Despite Mulder's lofty position, most of the inhabitants of this fortress, whether peon or not, treated them both with disdain. But this man... there was something about him she couldn't put her finger on. Something important.... The ding of the elevator told her he was truly gone and she shrugged off her feeling of disquiet. She had work to do. She quickly took the papers from their hiding place and retreated to her bedroom. Although it was just another unlocked door, it did afford more privacy. She really was losing it, she thought with a wry grin. Almost got caught by the laundry man. A very unsettling laundry man, but a laundry man nonetheless. Dana Scully would not have been so careless. But like Mulder had said, Dana Scully was dead. Or so Julia had thought, before she'd been ensconced in this ivory tower of inhuman greed. Actually, Dana Scully had only been asleep. She was wide awake now and ready to rescue her prince. End Chapter Eleven