Julia
Chapter Two

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Undisclosed location
West Virginia Mountains
June 2, 2000
12:06  a.m.


"Scully."

She heard her name as if from miles away, the
familiar syllables beckoning her.  But she
didn't want to answer; something horrible had
happened and all she wanted to do was bury her
whole body under the softness of her sheets. 
Make it all go away.

"Scully, can you hear me?"

Yes, I can, but I know I can't respond, she
thought.  I know my eyes are open and you look
sickly because of the green muck that lies
between us.  Mulder?  Why am I so cold?

It was Antarctica all over again.  She'd been
infected, stung by a bee in almost the same
exact spot as before.  Poetic justice, indeed. 
To live through all she lived through only to be
brought down by an insect no larger than a
paperclip.  She'd escaped last time, but no such
luck this time.

"Scully, I know you can hear me.  Your eyes are
open.  Come back.  It's okay, come back."

It was an effort, but she forced her eyes to
close, then re-open.  They felt sticky and they
burned, but after a few seconds of blinking, it
was easy to focus.

Frohike's face hovered above hers.  "Scully? 
Talk to me, Scully."

Her mouth worked, flexing as she tried to
swallow.  "I'm not dead?" she finally whispered.

He smiled, and seeing her struggle to sit up,
pulled gently on her hands.  "Nope, you're still
with us."

Swaying just a bit, she closed her eyes, then
felt him sit beside her on the hard mattress,
his arm going around her waist.  She took a deep
breath and opened her eyes again to see Byers
and Langly standing before her, concern etched
on their faces.

"But... the bee...." she began.

"Stung you, yes," Frohike finished for her. 
"But the vaccine Mulder gave you in Antarctica
must have done its job.  You're okay - don't you
remember?"

She brought her hands to her face... yes, it was
all coming back.  The virus exiting in its death
throes from her eyes, ears and nose.  Watching
it dissolve into nothing between her thumb and
forefinger.

But the virus wasn't the one she'd been infected
with before.  This was different... unless the
vaccine worked for the black oil, too?

"How did you know?" she croaked, hoping they
understood her few words.  She hadn't the energy
yet to elaborate.

"Police scanner.  The moment we heard mention of
swarms of bees, we set out."

"But how did you... so fast?"  They lived not
far from Mulder's place in Alexandria; in the
best traffic it would have taken them at least
an hour.  She drew her brows together and passed
a hand over the sore spot on her neck.  It was
hard and warm, but generally, she felt okay.

Byers cleared his throat and scraped a buffed
shoe along the concrete floor.  "We've... uh,
we've kind of been staying close by.  Since
Mulder disappeared.  We rented an apartment
across the street."

Her face flamed with indignation.  "Have you
been spying on me?  Listening to me?"  The
restless nights spent sobbing quietly into her
pillow lately returned to her mind with gale
force.  They wouldn't have... they *better* not
have....

"No!" His face became just as red as hers felt. 
"We sort of promised Mulder long ago that if
anything happened to him...."

"You'd keep an eye on me," she finished.

"We've had the apartment for four years," Langly
said matter-of-factly.  "Mulder pays for it."

Four years.  Since her cancer.  Since Mulder had
to fake his own death to get some answers.

"But this is the first time we've ever had to
use it," he finished quietly.

"And we're not spying on you.  We wouldn't do
that," Frohike said, rising up from the bunk
with a hurt expression.  "But we'd do anything
for Mulder... and for you."

She hung her head, embarrassed by her
accusation, but still irritated at the way they
- Mulder included - seemed to feel.  Shee wasn't
some simpering fool of a girl; she could take
care of herself.  But her anger would serve no
purpose now; best to move on.

"Thanks guys." Though their overprotectiveness
was unwarranted - after all, she was a trained
agent - she realized that if they hadn't been
there today, she quite possibly would have ended
up in the hands of....

"Krycek!" She tried to stand and at once felt
like the floor bottomed out under her.

All three rushed to her aid, sitting her down
once again.  "Whoa, Scully.  Take it easy,"
Frohike said.

"But - Krycek.  Where is he?"  Surely she hadn't
hallucinated that bastard's role in the day's
events?

"Right here, Scully.  At your service."

So she hadn't dreamt it all.  He walked into the
dim room, a self-assured smirk accompanying his
drawl.

"At my service?  Good.  Then get the hell out of
here."

Laughing, he shoved his way past the trio and
leaned down to whisper, "Sorry, no can do.  In
case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of
an alien invasion."  He straightened and
strolled to the small table to the left.  With a
grunt, he let himself drop into the lone folding
chair beside it.  "You're not getting rid of me,
Scully, so you may as well get used to it."

Sighing, she glanced at the Gunmen.  They stood
there like statues frozen in fear.  He'd done a
hell of a job scaring the wits out of her
friends.  But he didn't scare her.  Nothing
could scare her after what she'd witnessed this
morning.  Or was it still morning?

Her watch said it was morning all right.  The
*next* morning.

"Okay, so what are we doing here?  And where is
here, by the way?"  She directed her question at
Krycek, leveling him with a stare that bordered
on boredom.  She wasn't letting him get the best
of her.

"A bunker in the West Virginia mountains.  Built
into this rock especially for this purpose by my
former employers."

The Consortium.  Of which Krycek was still a
card-carrying member.  She was sure of it,
despite his statement to the contrary.

"And you decided to be generous and save us? 
Because...."  She waved her hand, urging him on,
then dropped it when another dizzy spell caught
hold.  Closing her eyes, she waited for him to
answer her.

"Still feeling like shit, huh?"

She heard the grin in his words.  "Just answer
the fucking question."  Eyes of steely hatred
pinned him once again.  At least she hoped so;
it was taking all her effort just to sit
upright.

"Oooh, such language."  At the purse of her
lips, he conceded.  "Okay, okay."  He moved from
the shadows over the table to stand before them
again.  "Because I need you."

"You *need* us?  For what?  Why not just go
groveling back to your boss?"

"Because he's dead."

Four pair of eyes locked on Krycek with
disbelief.  Scully was the only one, however, to
say it.  "You're lying."

Krycek stepped closer until he towered over her. 
"I killed the son-of-a-bitch, Scully.  Shoved
him down a flight of stairs.  Believe me, he's
dead."

They'd heard all this before, but Scully was too
tired to argue.  Besides, Cancerman's death
wasn't the issue; Krycek's uncharacteristic
rescue was.

"So, he's dead.  Still doesn't explain what you
need us for."

"Because there's a way to fight back."

*That* surprised her more than the news of
Spender's supposed death.  "Fight back?  Against
the Invasion?"  She snorted and gave him a
sarcastic grin.  "Sure.  If you have a ready
supply of vaccine handy.  Which I don't believe
you have, Krycek."

The vaccine had been experimental anyway;  
Mulder had told her so.  The man who had given
him the vial said it had to be administered
within 96 hours.  Even if they could manage to
get their hands on the formula, she knew they
didn't have the time or resources to mount an
effective strike back.

"No, I don't.  But I have something almost as
good, if not better."

What's that? her eyebrow asked.

"Information, among other things.  From the old
man's New York offices.  Data I downloaded while
on a scavenger hunt of sorts... a few days ago."

"The formula for the vaccine?"

"Can't tell.  The data is encrypted.  That's
what I need these geeks for," he nodded at the
Gunmen.  "Though it didn't occur to me until I
saw them on the street yesterday."

"And me?  What do you need me for?"

He backed away and moved to the door, then
turned as he opened it.

"You, Agent Scully, happen to be one of the only
remaining humans to have been vaccinated against
the original virus.  Who knows?  Maybe the
answer lies within *you.* You're still here,
aren't you?"

Silence reigned for a few seconds while they
contemplated his words.  Scully's mind whirled
with the possibilities.  Could Krycek have
gotten his hands on the formula?  Or could she
herself be the key?

Sighing, Krycek murmured, "Think about it," and
left the room, closing the door behind him.

So many questions remained unanswered; so much
still left undone.  So many dead.  She felt as
if the weight of the world rested upon her
shoulders.  Shoulders that already carried a
head that felt like a jackhammer was pounding
behind her right ear.

Yes, she was still here.  But Mulder was still
gone.  And she'd never felt more like crying in
her life.

Crying, though, was out of the question.  Weak
she may have been in body and spirit, but she
refused to give in to tears.  Especially in
front of the Gunmen, who looked at her with
haunted eyes.  Eyes that looked to her for
guidance, for answers.

"Scully?  What do we do now?"  Byers' soft
question broke into her melancholy.

Scully took a deep breath and swallowed the
tears away, looking into the faces of quite
possibly the only people left in the world that
she could call friends.  Though she felt like
going back to sleep and staying unconscious for
a hundred years, she willed herself to remain
alert... for them.  Maybe the ear infection was
dragging her down again - when was the last time
she'd taken her antibiotic?

"Go after him.  Find out what's on that disc. 
We cooperate... for now.  But whatever you do -
don't trust him."  Pulling the pill bottle from
her jacket pocket, she opened it and eyed the
few remaining capsules absently.  Should she
bother taking them? With a shrug, she popped one
in her mouth and reached for the water bottle
Langly produced.  Her vertigo was still a
problem; she wouldn't be of much use to Krycek
if she couldn't even stand up.  And she wasn't
giving him an excuse to throw her out, despite
his thinking that she was useful as a potential
guinea pig.

Lying back down on the musty mattress, she let
her eyes close.  "I'll be along in a little bit. 
Just let me get my bearings.  And see if you can
dig up some more antibiotics in this rathole. 
Sulfa drugs, if he has it.  This tetracycline
isn't working worth a shit."

It was only after she heard the soft 'snick' of
the closing door that she thought about letting
a few tears escape.

But she didn't.  She would save the crying for
when she had time to deal with it.



**********
 

Houston, Texas
January 28, 2001
11:10 a.m.


"Could I speak to one of his assistants, then?" 
Eliza was frustrated.

Things were not going smoothly.  Julia knew that
you just didn't call Headquarters and ask to
speak to the Appointing Authority, of course. 
Stupid was not her middle name.  Neither did
Eliza carry that moniker.

However, her mentor knew a good thing when it
fell in her lap.  Julia was her ticket back into
the inner circle; she could see it in the greedy
brown gaze every time the woman looked at her. 
As if the good graces of the administration were
already laying upon her shoulders like a mink
stole.

"Won't be long now," she whispered to Julia, her
hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone. 
"This could be the feather in my cap."  At her
lapse into selfishness, she amended quickly,
"Yours too, Julia."

Julia sat in the office of the Director of the
Houston Processing Facility.  He'd graciously
offered them its use when she and Eliza breezed
in here on a cloud of perfume and hair spray. 
Eliza had adamantly refused to let Julia be seen
by anyone since a week after their arrival in
Texas, when her bandages were removed and her
full potential became obvious.  For three weeks,
Julia was pampered, tutored and decorated in
home team colors.  Her hands were no longer
blistered.  They sat prettily in her lap, one
over the other, her silk-clad legs neatly
crossed at the ankles, as befitted a lady.

Her size five feet were encased in the softest
leather, the color of midnight blue velvet.  As
Eliza had instructed, they matched the fur-lined
cape perfectly, as well as the kid gloves hidden
in the lining pockets.  A slip dress of
contrasting pearl lace was carefully hidden in
the folds of the cape.  Eliza was very proud of
her creation; the photographs really did not do
her justice.  But they would suffice for the
initial contact.

Julia brushed away a strand of red-gold hair
impatiently.  It hung from a slightly off-center
part, falling in straight lines on either side
of her face to barely skim her shoulders.  It
framed her face, softening the bluntness of her
chin and widening the narrow sea of her eyes. 
Eliza had told her the hairdo would take care of
her square face, and it had done the trick.  She
didn't really care for the look; it brought back
too many memories of happier times that she'd
just as soon forget.  But Eliza had insisted,
and Eliza always got her way.

"Yes?"  Eliza's voice cut through Julia's inward
fidgeting.  "I know this is unusual, yes, but I
have something I think he'll be interested in."

Julia held her breath while Eliza negotiated. 
This had better work.  It wasn't her last
chance, but it was the most palatable.

While cradling the telephone to her ear, Eliza
leaned over to insert the first of two
photographs into the fax machine, the one with
full-figure view.  "The first is on its way." 
She looked over at Julia with a broad 'thumbs
up.'

Julia nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. 
What would she do if this didn't fly?  She
wasn't sure she could be with just any man,
although if it meant eating, she supposed she
could.  Lots of women these days, concubines or
no, were surviving that way.

"Oh, so now you want to see the second one,
huh?"  Eliza's smug voice irritated Julia, but
she said nothing, hoping the woman's arrogance
wouldn't upset their plans.  It was admirable to
be self-assured; it was foolhardy to be cocky. 
"It's on the way."  The second photograph, a
full-face closeup, was the bombshell.  Eliza had
planned the sequence well.

Julia sat through several moments of silence
while Eliza waited for her goal to be realized. 
Please let this work, she thought.  I have to
finish it.  It must be done.

"Yes?  What?  Oh, certainly, we know where... 
yes, sir, immediately.  Can I just say what a
pleasure it's - hello?"

Eliza hung up the telephone and stood,
straightening the jacket of her Donna Karan rip-
off.

"We're in," she stated.



End Chapter Two