"Marita, you should have been more careful." The Admiral reprimanded. "Blowing up a house like that only makes us high profile. The police will want to know what's going on." "I made sure that there's nothing left to investigate. No arsen charges will be made tonight. Look, old man," she seethed, "I had to make sure that c*cky little sh*t knew who was in charge." "Are you in charge, my dear?" The Admiral demanded. "If the human race can keep the illusion that we're in control of this planet just a little bit longer, and if that means keeping Spender and Leo in check, then yes...I'm in charge." "How can you be so sure?" "The same way anyone is sure of anything." She said with a sly smile. "By not thinking too hard about it." The news was all over the explosion in the quiet suburbian neighborhood. The Lone Gunmen, still so stunned by their recent discovery of the link between Mulder and Starkweather however, probably would have paid no mind to the horrifying event if Langly hadn't looked up at the TV and said "Crap." "What?" Frohike adjusted his glasses, smudged with fingerprint dust. The boys were trying to deduce who the benefactor of their package was. "You guys missed it," Langly said. "A house blew up for no reason in the 'burbs and guess who was in the neighborhood?" "Tom Hanks?" "No... and Byers what kind of stupid, lame-ass answer is 'Tom Hanks'?" "Well... he did make that terrible comedy called "The 'Burbs", naturally this was all pre- 'Sleepless in Seattle', 'Philadelphia', 'Forest Gump' and let's see... oh yes! 'You've Got Mail' and 'Saving Private Ryan' and 'Castawa-" "Hey, Leonard Maltin!" Frohike snapped. "Get to the point." "Well, I was merely making an attempt at humor since the atmosphere has been quite dark ever since we made the discovery that Mulder and Mrs. Starkweather share more that just the supreme talent of getting under everyone's skin." "You're just pissed because she made you crap your pants when she stuck that gun in your face, Virgin Monkey Boy." "STOP CALLING ME THAT!!!" "Dudes!" Langly broke in. "Mulder's lawyer was in the neighborhood." Frohike shrugged. "So?" "Well..." Langly babbled. "Doesn't that strike you as kinda weird?" "Why?" Langly paused. "I dunno," he admitted. "Langly," Frohike spluttered, absolutely frustrated. "I think the peroxide is soaking into your brain. And I can't find one damn print on this box." "What about the vials?" "Worthless. We handled them too much." "Wait a minute..." Byers said quietly, going to the computer. "What?" Langly asked. "Langly, you may have for once in you life, been observant about something." "So the LSD didn't kill off ALL of his braincells? That's a relief," Frohike grumbled. "Well... call me insane-" "Insane," Langly and Frohike droned at the same time. "But personally, I think it would be odd that a prominent lawyer would be at the site of an explosion but not necessarily damning..." "So... how was I observant?" Langly demanded. "Well, when you pointed out Mr. Leo to us on the TV, that reminded me that I had asked one of our associates to get documented history on Mr. Leo, because... again... another coincidence... when I spoke to Mulder on the phone-" "When did you get to talk to Mulder?" Frohike pouted. Byers ignored him "-he mentioned his defense attorney was from Carters, Spangle and Adams... which was the law firm Mr. Starkweather worked for..." Byers opened his email and saw a message from Jimmy Bond with a ZIP attachment. "Now... does that strike you as odd?" he queried as he opened the email and waited for the ZIP file to download. "No." Langly said. Frohike stood on his tiptoes and slapped him upside the head. "Ow!!!" "Why would a lawyer from the firm Ben was working at send a lawyer to defend Mulder?" "Cause lawyers are dogs?" Frohike hit him again. "Stop that!" "Well," Byers said mildly. "Not all, but THIS lawyer is a dog, like I suspected." "Wha'cha got?" Frohike leaned in closer. "HR records from CS and A. Mr. Leo was terminated from the firm as of May 13, 2002. And this... if Jimmy did his job..." Byers double-clicked his mouse. "Ah ha..." Langly and Frohike looked at the jibber-jabber on the scene. "What the hell is that?" "Data retrieved from Washington DC Workforce Development. Mr. Leo is a lawyer on unemployment." Byers clicked on the next file. "His bank statement Yves hacked from Wells Fargo site. Virtually empty." "So what the hell is going on?" Frohike said. "If he's getting a payoff, where is it? And what made you so suspious of Leo in the first place?" "Mulder said that Leo is doing this case pro-bono." "AHhhhhhhhhh," Langly and Frohike said. "And, well, when Mulder said that... I had to do a little digging. Find out what kind of character that this Mr. Justin Leo is. And I find this..." Byers shook his head. "But when we got that package... I completely forgot all about Leo and the case." "Me too," Langly admitted. Frohike closed his eyes. "Guys... we've been had." Byers and Langly exchanged confused looks. "I don't follow," Byers said slowly. "This," Frohike held up the note from the package. "'The answers are in here?' Bullsh*t. We were sent this to keep us busy. To throw us off the trail..." "Because the answers in there..." Langly said, putting the pieces together. "would distract us from what we were working with Mulder and Dog-breath in the first place... The f*cking 0oil rig!" he cried as he raced to his computer and started to type frantically on his computer. Then, his body slumped in his sit, head lolling back in defeat. "We're too late. There's massive firewalls built around the Galpex site. They even found the rabbit-holes we created and filled them. It's going to take time to get back in there." "Time we ain't got." Frohike ran his fingers through what was left of his hair. "F*ck," he muttered inaudibly. "I hear ya, brother," Langly groaned, pulled on his own hair in frustration. "Why were we so stupid????" Byers scratched his beard. "We're not stupid." He said in his quiet voice. "We were distracted by the red herring. But we are not stupid." Byers began to type. "Mrs. Starkweather was working on a connection between the oil rig and the Air Force base where the downed planes came from and I think it's safe to say that the USAF and the FBI have not strengthened their firewalls as Galpex has." Frohike and Langly raised their head. "Well, Hippie," Frohike said. "Make some coffee...." Meanwhile.... Back in Jail... Do not cross Go Do not collect $200... um.... sorry... anyways.... Manny was sound asleep, snoring loudly as drool dribbled down his face. Mulder paid him no mind. Under the guise of reading a book, Mulder was trying to quietly finish piecing together what Starkweather had started. But first he had to get inside her head. <> he moaned to himself, little realizing that Starkweather had the same reaction when she had decided to profile him. "Alright, Jerilyn," Mulder closed his eyes remembering their first encounter. He had by surprised at her small frame and baby face. She was a woman creeping towards middle-age with extreme defiance. Nature had been very kind to her, and Mulder remembered she was damn well how kind Nature was to her and used Nature's kindness to her advantage, lulling people into a sense of security... until they pissed her off and she opened her mouth. Judging by their few and far inbetween meetings, for Starkweather did not hide the fact she was not overtly fond of him and so did not make a point to talk to him, unless she absolutely had to, Mulder knew for a fact she rarely backed down from confrontation. Plus she was not afraid of using force, at all, Mulder recalled, ruefull rubbing his neck where she tried to choke him. <> he couldn't help thinking. But her violent outbust only proved what Mulder had thought from the beginning, if someone could look beyond the childishly sweet face and into her eyes and ignore the cutting tongue, they would see the passionate and loyal heart that drove Starkweather into doing what she believed was right. Coupled with her feral intelligence that could took swipes at people's foolishness and corruption fearlessly, someday she would be a force to reckon with. But not until she learned to curb her naturally salty tongue. Her mouth and her attitude was going to get her in trouble time and time again until she grew up. In fact, Mulder's ears still rang with the snarls of his first fight with her, when she had busted him and the Lone Gunmen for trying "To break into my home, to tamper with my phones, to add surveillance cameras to monitor my movements for my protection? That a little Air Force medic retiree and current FBI agent, who survived Basic training, medical training, FBI training and a Slipknot concert is so inept at self-defense that a illegally placed surveillance equipment is going to be adequate protection?" "I don't doubt your abilities to take care of yourself, Jerilyn," Mulder said patiently. "You're a very capable, competent woman-" "Gee, can you be any more patronizing?" "Jerilyn Bailey Starkweather, do you have an open mind?" "It's fairly open, but not so much that my brains fall out." "Jerilyn, you need to listen to me now, your life is in danger." "I'm a federal agent. My life is in danger everyday due to my choice" << "I'm a federal agent. My life is in danger everyday due to my choice.">> And that was the stumbling block, Mulder reasoned, keeping Starkweather from achieving healthy self- actualization. <<**I'm.** **My life** **My choice**>> Her pride and her arrogence and fear of loss, fear of being alone. Never a **we** heard anywhere. Mulder smiled and shook his head. <> he sighed to himself. Pushing his own issues aside, he delved deeper into Starkweather's psyche. As of right now, she believes her husband is dead and her dedication to duty and honor is probably fueling the fire of guilt that's burning her up. She believes that she should have stopped Ben from his fool's errand and now that he's gone, she owes it to him to find the truth. <> he wondered before his profiling went on... So where would she go for answers? Well... she probably checked HIM inside and out. If she was as good as people were saying, Mulder thought smugly, then her profile is not going to match the true "murder" suspects, which will raise the hairs on the back of her neck. So now she's dealing with whether to believe or not believe, to be or not to be, the eternal question. Unable to handle emotions, she probably hides away to cry, only to come out feeling worse, but in extreme denial and harboring much guilt, she will try to shove those feelings even deeper down, trying to be professional... Until a gesture of sadness or kindness makes her crack. Mulder sighed. Or a hologram appearance, that could make her crumble. <> Mulder backed up. While she was in professional mode, she probably went back to square one. That damn oil rig. There was a reason why Ben was ordered to prosecute it and why he was silenced for it. Mulder wondered how far back in the oil rig case did she go? Did she explore the history of the vicious Black Oil known as Purity? She would have... Mulder believed... or at least... I would have... He scoured his memory for the conversation he and Scully had after her mission to Scotland, with Doggett and Starkweather in tow. Incidently, it was Starkweather's first X-File. The Lone Gunman had just brought him to Scully's after his futile attempt to make the Hurricane understand how much danger she really was in. He was retchedly ill, literally. Before Scully brought him to bed, he threw up her favorite shoes. After she took his temperature and listened to him whine about how he felt like such a loser, a puppet, a sell-out, thoughts planted by the benevolent Starkweather herself. Scully had basically told him to stop whining because she was there and together, they had battled worse odds. To change the subject, Mulder had asked her about the trip. "A complete diaster," she had said, once again mopping his hot brow with the soft, cool, damp cloth. "We lost our only witness and the legal evidence was confiscated by the United States Army. It's under lock and key, we can't touch it. The case is dead in the water." "Legal evidence?" Mulder had rasped, striken with bronchitis. He remember how much it hurt to breath, how much effort it took to even keep his eyes open, but he wanted to listen. He wanted to stay awake. "Are you implying that there's not-so-legal evidence?" "Starkweather killed a bounty hunter. She doesn't believe that it was alien, of course, but... anyway... samples of the blood was collected to be sent to Quantico, but Doggett took one of the samples." "Doggett?" Mulder had hardly been able to contain his mirth, despite how bad he felt. "Puppy-Man?" "Stop it Mulder," Scully gestured Mulder to sit up, which he did. Scully slid behind him and he rested his head on her, closing his eyes as she continued to bathe his face, throat and chest with the cooling water. "And when we examined the downed aircraft, Starkweather noticed an abnormality with the c*ckpit shield... she said the glass looked to be heated enough to liquidify, then cooled down and solidify again. Starkweather helped herself to a piece of glass." Mulder had chuckled. "Mulder, it's not funny. They violated a crime scene, they disturbed evidence..." "Scully, Scully, Scully, how often has our work been sabotaged? I think Starkweather and Doggett are engaging in a little CYA if you ask me." Mulder had sighed in exhaustion and relief when he felt Scully's cool fingers rub his temples. "But you still have no idea why this plane went down?" "I can't think of any. Starkweather was muttering she might have a hunch, but before she said anything, she passed out and Doggett took her home." Mulder had startled at that, tried to sit up, but Scully had pushed him gently back down against her again. "Remember how I told you that van the bounty hunters were driving were hurtling towards her? She threw herself across the hood of another car to avoid being mowed down by the runaway truck. Also an Army lietenant hurt her arm pretty badly. Come to think of it... she also hit her head pretty hard when we had to make that emergency landing in Rome... I'm surprised she held up this long." "But you don't remember what her hunch was?" "Mulder, don't press. It's not good for you, it's not good for me. You're sick and I'm tired." She had stroked his hair and used the same soothing voice that she did with little Will when he was fussing. "Mulder, just let it go... it'll be fine, just rest, just close your eyes and let it go..." And Mulder had let go and fallen into fitful sickly sleep until the LGM returned from the errand to the drugstore like Scully asked him. She had roused him enough to take a heavy duty antiboditic and an even heavier antidecongestant. Then he truly let go and slept like the dead... Now, trapped in a cell which seemed to grow smaller and smaller every hour, Mulder was reaching for the thread that Scully told him to let go. <> Mulder's teeth clenched together. He longed for a sunflower seed. Stretching, he rotated his head left to right, hoping to pop his stiff neck. As he did this, he happen to look at Manny, still sleeping, still snoring... And the answer hit him like a Mack Truck. "Oh my God..." Mulder said aloud. He had the answer. He just hoped there was physical proof... he hoped it could be found before good ol' Billy Boy paid him a visit. Trapped in a cell which seemed to grow smaller and smaller every hour, Mulder was reaching for the thread that Scully told him to let go. <> Mulder's teeth clenched together. He longed for a sunflower seed. Stretching, he rotated his head left to right, hoping to pop his stiff neck. As he did this, he happen to look at Manny, still sleeping, still snoring... And the answer hit him like a Mack Truck. "Oh my God..." Mulder said aloud. "What if the plane was SUPPOSED to crash???" Manny snorted in his sleep and rolled over, continuing to snore. Mulder began to pace. It made sense, it made perfect sense... according to what little Scully told him about the case in Scotland before she left with Doggett and Starkweather... several other military planes had taken off for routine missions and crash- landed way off course days later. According to Starkweather, several airbases had fueling contracts with the oil company. If Mulder was right... if the oil company was just a cleverly simple fascade for their real mission, to secretly import Purity into other countries... Mulder continued to pace. But wasn't the Black Oil transmitted by bees? He knew it was, Scully had nearly died from a bee from that weird farm in Texas. But the Black Oil was also transmitted just by touching it. Plus... God only knew how many other places there could be in the world that was genetically engineering killer-bees... Mulder went to the bars and grabbed the bars in desperation, wishing he had the strength of Billy Miles. If Ben would have been successful with bringing the case to trial, everything would have come out. Including the race of indigents that were immune to the Black Oil... which, Mulder realized frantically, is what the Syndicate was hiding... or rather the New Syndicate. Even though he knew that most of the "Old Guard" had been killed, he had the sneaking suspicion that someone was waiting in the wings for just such an event so he... or she could grab the reins. And if the New Syndicate was anything like the Old Syndicate... pretending to help the alien nation while trying to undermine their efforts... they would NOT want it to become public knowledge that some humans were immune... humans like the two brave souls who perished on the oil rig trying to stop their evil work... humans like himself and Scully... possibly Starkweather... but definitely... "William..." he breathed. "Oh no..." If Starkweather didn't wake up, if he didn't get out of this cell... the hell with the rest of the world, who was going to protect Scully and Will? "D-d-doggett..." Starkweather stammered "I think I should lay off the J.D.'s." "Starkweather?" Sam asked with an expression of forged confusion plastered on his face. After fifteen years of leaping, he had acquired acting skills. In a flash, he pulled the gun out of the shoulderholster and had it poised toward the gun. "Please..." she stammered, "tell me you see a man in a God-awful suit in this room? Because if you don't, Clarence is back...and you should check the yellow pages for nutfarms." "Awful?! What the hell do you mean awful?!" Al objected. "This material is top-quality 100 % silk! He can't see me. You're the only one who can see me honey." Al fibbed. "I think I'm going phucking insane..." She closed her eyes. "He's not real, in a minute, I'll wake up and this will all go away...he's just a figment of my imagination..." Mumbling, she walked over to the liquor cabinet, and poured every drop of liquor that existed. "Who's there?" Sam immediately recoiled, poising his gun for show. Sam and Al, meanwhile, took the opportunity while her back was turned to them to relay a message *Mulder* Al exageratedly mouthed and pointed at his watch then pointed at Doggett's gun and then emphatically pointed at his head "Callivici," she swung around, and immediately Al and Sam both stiffened up, "Why'd you come back?" "Ummmmm...St. Peter wanted me to tell you that unless you stop cryin' me a river, Mulder's going to be killed in prison within..." he held up Ziggy and punched in data, "twenty four hours." "Glad to see Heaven's gotten an upgrade." Starkweather purred. "Why do you think we couldn't affoard the cleaning bill?" Al retorted. "Oh, I see. You cant affoard a cleaning bill but you can affoard technology that doesn't exist yet. It's a God damn miracle." "That's what Angel's do, isn't it?" "I can't believe I'm arguing with a figment of my imagination. God...I must be insane." "I'm not God, I'm--" Al protested. "Shut up!" Starkweather barked. It was hard for Sam not to hide his urgency. Aside from finding this situation slightly amusing, he desperately needed whatever information Al had to give him. So, he continued to play along. "Starkweather? Who are you talking to?" "Calivici...my gaurdian angel...with a pretty blinking calculator..." she said quizzically. Just then, Starkweather's cell phone rang. Scully's voice was urgent on the other end. "Starkweather, turn on the local news. There's something you should see. Sam gave her a questionning glance that was unanswered. Starkweather turned her television on from cable to local television. "A Gap commercial?" "No no no...it just went off the air...Mulder's lawyer is connected to an unexplained explosion. Al and Sam were both starring wide eyed at the next newsclip from the Spangle, Adams and Carter lawfirm. "Jiminy Christmas!" Starkweather murmuring at the sight of the man on the screen. "Look at that..." eyeing the cigarette holder..."looks a helluva lot like the cigarette holder I gave...he knows...holy F*ck! I think that man killed Ben...if he didn't kill Ben," she finished quietly, "...then he at least knows who did..." Starkweather faced the television set, nibbling her thumbnail, oblivious to Sam or Al. "Unless, he's in on it with Mulder, he is his lawyer, but... no if he was in with Mulder, he would have gotten him off on bail, if Leo was in on it with Mulder, there is no logical reason why Mulder would still be sitting in that jail cell..." she bit her lip. "Unless he's being set up..." she muttered to herself as the commericals droned on and on, a McDonald's spot, then a local spot for a furniture company, then the news was back on. The way-too-happy anchor woman re- informed Washington DC and the surrounding areas of the unexplained house explosion in a nearby suburb of DC. As the already over-played footage re-aired, the woman's voiceover announced how the fire marshall suspected foul play, but has not yet been determined. The picture flashed back to the family, a woman, cut, scraped and mildly burned hovering over her fear- striken son while a man, Justin Leo, tried to comfort them both. "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck," she whispered to herself, still thinking. "Starkweather?" Sam asked. "Doc?" "Hang on a sec," she said, dashing off into the bedroom. Sam was about to follow, but Al already vanished, centering on her. Sam heard a loud "CAN'T A GIRL GET SOME F*CKING PRIVACY YOU PERVERTED LITTLE HALUCINATION??????" Al returned to Sam quickly, very red-faced, a rarity. "She's changing," he mumbled, punching at his little com-link to cover his massive embarrassment. "What's going on?" Sam hissed insistantly. "Does anything change?" Al began punching at his com-link for real now. "Mulder still croaks tomorrow night at straight up five o'clock Eastern time-" Just then, Caesar the fat orange cat rounded the corner. His tail puffed up three times it's normal size, hissed at Sam, glared at Al. He lowered himself to ground, just like his bigger and wilder relations in Africa, waggling his rump, tensing his legs, preparing for the attack. Suddenly he lunged himself off the floor, hurtling himself towards Al, claws extended. Al, by now, used to animals freaking out on him, put his hands behind his back and waited patiently. The cat sailed right through him. Confused, Caesar flailed his paws wildly as he tried to control his landing. He belly-flopped onto the polished oak coffee table, sliding across it, knocking magazines and coffee cups off and falling into an undignified orange heap on the floor. Tucking his tail between his legs, Caesar slunk off to nurse his wounded pride in peace. "HA!!!" he barked at the retreating cat. "That makes up for every damn cat Ex- Wife Number... Four... Five... whatever... brought home to destory my house." "Al!" Sam snapped, although he had been privately amused by the entire scenario. "Oh oh oh right..." Al got back to work. "Oh... no... Sammmmmm.... Starkweather gets killed **tonight** now." "WHAT?!?!?!" Sam felt his heart and head spin. "How??? Why?" Just then, Starkweather came back, in baggy khakis cargo pants cinched tighly at her waist with a thick black belt, a chest-hugging tight black t-shirt while wearing one of Ben's dark grey dress shirts over it, shiny black boots Sam correctly guessed where from her days in the Air Force. Her hair was pulled tightly back in a harsh French braid. Over her head, she had tied on a black hankerchief, pulling her bangs back so anyone could clearly see the ugly scar she earned when her flight to London was crash landing in Rome. The tail of her braid swished back and forth as she walked out. She wore dark black sunglasses. Her mouth was pulled down what seemed to be a permanent frown. She looked evil. But what scared Sam more was the gun she was loading. "Starkweather, what are you doing?" She smiled coldly at Sam, the smile worse than the frown. "I'm gonna go have a chat with Mr. Leo," she said wickedly. "Don't know if you wanna come with Doggett. The game just got dirty and your suit is still sparkly clean." Sam looked down at Doggett's neatly pressed black suit, starched white shirt and grey and red and violet striped tie. With a sigh, Sam took his gun out, checked it, took it off of safety and put it back in his holster. "My suit's washable," Sam said. Starkweather stuck the gun in the back of her waistband, pulled Ben's shirt over it and grabbed her car keys. "Oh boy," Sam said, following... After Scully left the Admiral, she could not shake the feeling that he was not going to be honest with her. He was an old family friend, and she believed he truly wanted to do right, but that other forces were compelling him to do wrong. It was her job now to flush the compelling forces out and uncover the truth. The truth now, she hoped, would set Mulder free...literally this time. She needed to go to the county jail and tell Mulder everything she found. He would want to know he had a sister again, even if it was someone who had a powerful left hook that liked to meet his face. She had come to rely on Reyes in these times when she needed someone to stay with Will while she persued these questions, and was really not quite sure how she would repay the favor. The house phone rang just then, interrupting her train of thought which was in the middle of trying to determine the best next step in this investigation. "Dr. Scully, my name is J. Stephen Cello III." a young man began, "You don't know me, but one of my late colleauges worked with one of your colleagues." "What's this all about?" Scully was slightly irritated with a man automatically introduced himself as someone whose name sounded like the closing of Seseme Street . "Mr. Starkweather was my colleague." He answered sadly. "I was going over the police reports here in front of me on behalf of our lawfirm and your name came up. I think some things need to be brought to your attention." Scully got off the phone completely outraged. Mulder was being set up by the young lawyer, and she was sure it had something to do with the oil-rig. Now all she had to do was find the connection. She picked up the phone again. "Byers. It's Scully. Listen, I need you guys to do me a favor as fast as you can. Can you get me the phone records for Justin Leo and fax them for me? Thanks, I appreciate it." She was slightly puzzled when the records pulled up on her fax machine immediately. Al, taking a puff of his cigar, stood in the shadows. When he realized she didn't see the smoke, he stepped into the light. "Mulder..." she mumbled to herself, a thin smile gracing her lips, "you are one paranoid piece of work..." "Ain't he though?" Al said, grinning over her shoulder. Her brow crinkled in confusion when she saw one number from Sasha Krycek at PO Box 37 Cherry Lane Apts. She was interrupted on her way out again by yet another phone call. This time it was her cell, so she wasn't completely stopped. "Scully," Skinner began, "what have you found so far? I tried to get a hold of Starkweather, but she's busy at the moment." "Sir, I wish I could fill you in, but so am I. I'll get back to you in a few hours." Feeling in the way and out of the loop, Skinner sighed and dialed the number for the mayor. Scully wound down the streets towards the county jail apprehensively, and it had nothing to do with the place she was going. This whole ordeal was completely illogical. Who gets arrested on pure circumstantial evidence? Why did the judge set the bail so high? Where did the body come from? The only question unanswered surrounding the whole mess was that Ben was opening doors someone intended to keep locked. Tonight, before The Gunmen, Starkweather, and Doggett came for Mulder, she knew that she needed to find at least seven out of ten. If they weren't all going to serve time in prison, she needed solid proof. From what she could tell from Ben's colleague, Mulder's current lawyer was someone definately working with someone who had connections...but as far as she knew, the most connected man in Washington was dead. But, she reminded herself with a heavy sigh, "The phrase 'as far as I know' has a way of not going very far in this job." She knew without a doubt that if the break didn't succeed, Mulder would be moved to a state penetentiary. That wasn't the worst of the consequences, though. Her mother would undoubtedly be given full legal custody of William, while she, Starkweather, Doggett and the 3 Muskateers would be at the mercy of the court system. The truth that's out there would be abandoned, ignored, closed completely. But that wasn't going to happen. She was going to find the proof they needed. Mulder was going to help her after rush hour tomorrow, and then everything would be back to normal. Scully pulled into the parkinglot and got out the paper she reached for after the Gunmen called. She scrawled the message that Starkweather was coming for him at rush hour, and beneath that some questions she knew Starkweather would need answers to if the stunt was to be successful. She folded up as small as possible and tucked it in her skirt. Because of the late hour, she was escorted into the visitation room by a gaurd, and while the gaurd went to get Mulder, she took the opportunity to get the paper out. She fervently wished that she could have brought Will with her. She knew Mulder would want to see him, and that maybe he would give the motivation she knew Mulder would need to pull this off. But it was past her bedtime. She knew that Parenting Magazine would not approve of bringing an infant to a jail at such a late hour. Scully never doubted Mulder's innocence. Even still, after all the horrors he'd been subjected to, she knew those monsters hadn't robbed him of his compassion. The only doubt that existed in her mind was whether or not they could prove it. She wasn't ready for this to be their goodbye. She sighed tentatively as she waited, and resolved that she wouldn't let that happen. Mulder was finally escorted into the visitation room. "You look tired, Scully." He said quietly, and took her hand through the glass. Scully thought he looked like he had probably stayed awake the entire time he was in custody. "It's been a hellish day. I went to Martha's Vineyard." "Finally decided to take a vacation there like a normal person?" He answered dryly. "Wow, Scully. I'm impressed. If that's what it takes to get you to have a vacation, I shouldda gotten arrested long ago." "Yeah, Mulder." She answered. "I went there to have my yearly rendez-vous with the pizza guy." Scully deadpanned. "That explains why you look so beat." He answered in his annoying monnotone with a sly smile. Not skipping a beat, he took her hand through the gap in the plexiglass at the bottom, and in the same tone of voice, he asked "How's Will?" "A lot like you at this moment." Scully said with a wan grin of her own. Then slid the paper into the palm of his hand. And with one glance into his eyes, she made it understood that this wasn't something to clue the gaurds in on. "I haven't passed notes to a girl I liked since grammar school." He mumbled only loud enough for her to hear. He cracked a slight smile as he read the contents of the note. "My apartment until two weeks, Scully...that's where I'm staying." he said, hoping she'd get the hint. For a moment, she looked confused, and then her face lit up in understanding as she realized what he was saying. <42 until...minus...two weeks...fourteen days...42 minus 14...28.> "Scully, the way I see it, we've got proof already. I know what Doggett and I saw on that oil rig, and I think the connection lies in my cell mate." "Manny?" Scully asked incredulously. Mulder nodded slowly in response. "They were using people who wouldn't know any better...and if they did know better, they'd need the job too badly to quit, and be willing to take the risk. The people on the oil rig were transporting alien oil...same as we saw inTungeska...the same oil that was being used in those planes in that airport in Scotland. Certain higherups were getting they're palms greased..." "No pun intended?" Scully interrupted. "Right..." he continued, "...anyway...the connection is that oil, and those workers...if we can get proof that Kersh and whoever else is connected get those stocks the boys and me found, then I'm home free." "There's something else I found out today. I found proof that the Admiral has been dealing with the Syndicate. They are the ones who adopted Jerilyn through a blackmarket adoption agency. Leo has been parading as a lawyer for the past two weeks. He was fired from his firm, and is connected to a bombing of a home in a residential neighborhood. Your old lawyer has been calling this one number quite a bit for a Cherry Lane apartments, and they've been increasing lately. When I leave here, I'm finding out who lives at that address." "Scully.." Mulder began hesitantly, "if this doesn't work out, and I..." "Mulder..it'll work..." she said firmly. *************************** Mulder was lead back to his jail cell, and with Manny oblivious to the world around him. He wasn't prepared for the possible scenerios that might unfold tomorrow. He envied Manny of his oblivion, and wished insomnia hadn't worked its spell. "Kid, I'd get some shut-eye if I were you, tomorrow's gonna be a helluva day." Al growled. He popped in, perched in the middle of the top bunk. At the unexpected sound, Mulder jumped out of his skin. "Al...tomorrow..." "I know kid, I heard." "Why is Starkweather coming?" "Because..." Al began, inhaling a puff of her cigar, "I think she knows as good as Sam, me, Scully and Doggett that you didn't do this." "You get anything from Doggett?" Mulder asked, raking his hand through his hair. "Nada. He went psycho on us earlier...the project psychologist said he kept screaming some cryptic sh*t about seeing his son...and some number. Beeks finally hadda..." "Walk-ins...Star-light..." "Don't tell me cryptic sh*t disorder's catchy?" "Walk-ins are souls trapped in some kinda limbo who try to help the living. They helped me find Samantha...Luke died suddenly and before his time. I think thirty-seven's gotta be tied to this somehow." "Well if he's trying to tell us something," Al grumbled, "I wish he'd give us some useful information...like who's gonna win the world series in 2012." "Check on Scully, will ya?" "Mulder, I wish I could...but I need to check in on Sam...I gotta update him on Puppy Man..." "Al...go check on her..." Mulder implored simply. "Mulder, Scully's a strong woman, she can take care of herself. Sam's at the mercy of Starkweather and the Gungeeks..." "They're harmless..." then, running his hand along his stitches, he decided to change the assessment, "well...she won't do anything with witnessess..." "I'm only one guy, kid..." Al began to protest, "I can't be in two places at once." "In my line of work...believe me...you can." Mulder deadpanned. Letting out a relenting grumble, Al flashed him a dirty look as he called out to Goushie. "Center me on Scully!" **Meanwhile...** Scully left the courthouse, and headed down the bypass on her way to the address she found for Cherry Lane apartments. Over and over again, she went through the evidence they found. Scully never saw the lawyer who was supposedly representing Mulder. She never knew what he looked like. Was it safe to assume that the man in the car getting the vile in the warehouse just the day before had been Leo? She wished that there was enough time to call Starkweather to find out what the Admiral told her. But there wasn't enough time to do two things at once at this point. She was approaching the neighborhood, and if the caller was involved at all in these operations, then it was an easy conclusion to arrive at that the caller would be on the move, and if that were the case, she needed to catch the caller out the door. Undetected, Al appeared instantly on Scully's passenger seat. "Where we goin' Scully?" He asked as if she could hear. She pulled into the apartment complex and counted down the doors till she came to the right address. He saw two cars, did a liscence plate check on both. There was one registered to a Sasha Antzen and to an Ana Sedai. As Scully made her way up the door Al followed, and as soon he caught sight of the door number, it hit him... Scully rang the doorbell to apartment 37C, shouting "Open up! This is the FBI!" **Where we last saw Scully, at Cherry Lane Apt.'s 37C** After repeatedly pounding on the door, she whipped out her gun and turned the safety off. Al, bug-eyed and anxiously jingling change in his pocket, gnawed nervously on his cigar. "Scully, I wouldn't go in there without back-up if I were you, sweetheart." he warned unheard, and a relieved smile spread across his face as he saw her slip the gun in her breast pocket and whip out her cell-phone lightening-quick. "'Atta girl! Going in there without back up is more along Spooky's line." She dialed Skinner's number, and as soon as she heard him grumble a barely comprehendable hello into the phone, without waiting for pleasantries, she began spatting instructions. "Sir, it's Scully. You want to know what's going on, I'll let you know as soon as you get to 37C Cherry Lane Apartments in Georgetown. I'm about to make an arrest, and I need back-up." She hung up, not waiting for a reply, and whipped her FBI-issued revolver out of her pocket reflex-quick. With the safety clicked off, she aimed at the doorknob, and with a bang, the lock shot open. "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" she screamed, aiming her gun at shadows. "THIS IS THE FBI! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!" "Who the hell is she?!" Al sputtered, wishing to God that he could be seen. What the fu--?" He stammered as he saw something darting between the hall way and the counter. "Oh, come on, Agent Scully!" Marita purred incredulously, emerging from the hallway. "You don't have to be so Goddamn melodramatic." If Scully was surprised to see her in the dark, modestly furnished living room, she gave no indication. Scully and the strange woman and the apartment began to flicker and fades like lights do when the electricity goes out. "Goushie! NO!! Keep me up as long as you can't! Dammit!! I dont' care whatchya gotta do, keep me here!" He hollared helplessly. "You are under arrest for conspiring to murder Benjamin Starkweather and Deputy Mayor Mulder, and interfering with police investigation." "I think you've been watching too many cop movies...you're acting like a f*cking action hero" she sneared coolly. As he heard the two women spitting their fire, Justin Leo decided to take the opportunity to head for the door. Scully's attention was averted just then by movement in the shadows, but she kept her gun trained on her target. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of- -who's there? Hey!" Scully demanded as Leo made a run for it towards the exit. He knew that if he stayed, Lilly would slip through his fingers like an abstract. Marita saw her opportunity and took it. "The cavalry isn't helping you now, sweetie." She sneered with a swift kick, knocking Scully's gun from her grip. "You bet your sweet *ss they are Lucrezia Borgia." Al combatted as if Marita could hear. If it was at all possible, his eyes got even wider like a cartoon character, as Marita poised Scully's own fire arm at her. Scully swung at her, and dove for the gun, but Marita was quicker. Leo had moved from his shadow, and was now starring sh*t-faced and wide-eyed at Al. "He can see me! Holy Sh*t! He can see me!" Sputtered Al as he stared just as bewildered and white-faced, and consulted his hand-link. "Goushie, what the F*CK is going on here?!" He hollared helplessly into the air. "It's a gun, Leo, not a ghost." Marita said in his direction while her intent stare never diverted from Scully. "Now get out of here and do your job while I do mine." She snarled. Leo did her biding, and quickly bolted for the door. "You, honey," Al began "are a good argument for the people against the right to bare arms. Guns don't kill people. Psychochicks with a gun kill people." Al smirked. "Goushie! He hollared desperately, "try it again, center me on Sam! Pronto!" The womens' voices were crackling like radios and cell phones do when the frequencies are off, and with one last flicker, Al wasn't connected with the room anymore. "That's what I get for getting a nutcase to work for me, isn't it." Marita said with a smirk. "But he *is* effecient, so I think I'll keep him around." Scully saw the blue lights flickering in the window from the street below, and in an almost automatic action, she lunged at Marita, gripping for her arms first, in attempt to point upward. But without even aiming the gun steady, Marita fired when she saw the blue and red lights get more intense. Skinner heard the blast from inside, and rushed his crew inside apartment 37C. Scully didn't think she heard any kind of gunshot. She felt rust-warm and sticky substance on her FBI- approved navy blazer. The only thing she remembered was jerking back. She was dimly aware of footsteps coming up to the front door. She was aware that she was falling. And then she was aware of nothing more. ***************************************************** ...Meanwhile...Coffee is my Friend 24 hr CoffeeShop *************************************************** Justin Leo watched his step-sister leave. He understood her fears, and admonished himself for not sending them away before she threatened the restraining order. He really couldn't blame her. But, what could he do? He was too far in to get out now. The coffeeshop was near a college, and the owner had the foresight to install a few modem hook-ups. He booted up, logged on, and went into the UFO chatrooms, clinging to the faint hope of helping him find answers, and surfed UFO newsletters for possible clues. The hope that Marita Corruvabias and her colleagues would help him find Lilly was slowly dimming. He whipped out his cellphone at it's abnoxious whirring beckon. "Leo." Marita hissed coldly, "you have a chance to redeem yourself after your last blunder." then calmly, "One last chance to get her back." Deciding it best to remain silent, he said nothing, waiting for her to continue, and nodded as if he could see him. "We have an emergency on our hands. I need you to drop all contact with the Deputy Mayor. I need you to get the serum and send the replicant to his cell tomorrow afternoon. Your the only one with the information to send the replicant to the correct location. We'll be so much closer to getting Lilly back...and others..." her voice trailed off. Without a word, he hung up and logged off, leaving the coffee shop. ********************************** Meanwhile... After making sure Ana and Peter were safe, Leo finally went to the safehouse like he had been ordered to earlier that day. Marita was waiting for him. "You little b*tch," Leo started to say, but Marita pointed a gun at him. "You have but one chance to redeem yourself Leo." She purred, coming closer to him, step by step until the gun barrel was shoved painfully into his chest. "Agent Starkweather is a problem we need solved. Now. Tonight." She turned the gun around and handed it to him. "And don't even think of turning it on me. It's not loaded. You'll need to get your own bullets." She handed him the manilla envelope> "Here's a better picture of her. The address is on the back. I want this done right. Make it look like a robbery gone wrong." She turned her back on him and left him alone. Leo, fuming, ripped open the envelope. He pulled out an 8x10 color glossy print of a photo of Starkweather from a survelliance shot. She was getting out of a white Dodge Dynasty that had obviously seen better days, one hand still on the wheel as she looked off to the right at something. Her hair was bundled on top of her head in a heavy-looking bun. She wore a nice black suit and a blue silk blouse, with a blue and silver scarf knotted at her neck. Leo dropped the photograph, exhaling. The hair color and the eye color was wrong, of course but the face... "**Lily**" he gasped.... 7:42 pm Cherry Lane Apts. ***************** Marita knew that Justin Leo was not fooling himself. He worked for her and the rest of the consortium for one reason, and one reason only: to find someone he lost. He always held the false illusion that the tasks he performed were find Lilly--that he was on a quest. Marita banked upon that mistake and allowed him to keep the illusion. After all, as long as he prooved useful to her, what was the harm in allowing him to think that that poor dumb girl was still alive? He pined after Lilly, and allowed himself to believe that he was performing his tasks to find her. His quest was under false pretenses though; only brave men go on quests. She was beginning to discover however, that a Luke Skywalker costume was hard to fit on Chewbacca. She knew that Davis Justin Leo possessed absolutely no balls...and for that quality, she kept him at her heels. Cowards are easily intimidated and very gullible. She knew this, and used it to the Ultimate Advantage. There were still too many things standing in the way of the Ultimate Advantage. She knew that those things would have to be illiminated. The first steps were taken already, but until the Smoking F*cker was out of the picture, she knew that these steps wouldn't be taken. Under her careful supervision, the syndicate was finally gaining a stronger hold, and more paranormal cases were brought to the FBI's attention. Careful strategizing went into placing the Starkweathers in the Nation's capital, and careful strategizing went into expelling Mulder from the FBI. With the truth revealed about his sister, Marita and CSM were both delightedly surprised he chose to stay in the FBI; but admittedly, it was the dumb luck of Vietnam that landed Mulder at City Hall. His abduction was not, however, part of the plan; nor was his death. The syndicated HAD been participating in abduction conspiracies for years. Lilly and Samantha were both planned to be taken at different times as part of a contract made under Spender. The best she and Krycek could determine when the news reached them was that Mulder's disappearance had been the work of the alien rebels. The Ultimate Advantage now was to find out exactly what the alien rebels were fighting against, and how to negotiate with both. Marita knew that by controlling Billy Miles she was getting close to the Ultimate Advantage. Giving Dana Scully and Fox Mulder the Truth behind Jerilyn Bailey Starkweather was done because she also knew that if Agents Scully and Mulder and the rest of the members of the x-files and their cohorts had a distraction, then it would take them off their gaurds and allow Mr. Leo to perform his tasks and her Syndicate time to take control of the situation. Ben Starkweather and Justin Leo had one very crucial commonality: they both lacked any ounce of courage, but they needed to believe that they strove to do the Right Thing...and that false belief drove their very Existances. She knew that this tendency would be the convincing factor in proving them useful to the Ultimate Advantage. There was a swift knock at her door. The old man drew a long puff of his cigarette when Marita opened it. "You are a fool if you think the Truth is a good distraction for Agent Scully." He told her. "Against your advice, Ms. Corruvabias, I have set Mr. Miles in motion." "Then we risk finding what we need to know. They can help us." She insisted "It is too late. It has been done." "Then you are the fool," she hissed. "Because any stronghold we had is going to be lost now. The lie will be gone!" "You should watch yourself, Marita." The old man purred. "The lie is about to explode. But I wouldn't disappear. You and your handyman will be usefull in the near future. We might be lucky. They might crack. We might survive." "You can only threaten me with *might*...not with *MIGHTS* you B*STARD!" She exploded, and an with an emphatic BANG slammed the door in his face, not carring that it was the most immature reaction she could have to his maddening words. More importantly, it proved to him that she was loosing her control...but she had to admit, it was theraputic. She ran to the closet where her suitcase gathered dust, and against his advice, began to pack it. With Scully's urgent call moments before, Skinner called reinforcements as quickly as he could, confident in his agent's ability to keep the situation under control. He had no doubt in his mind that her ability to do that alone had saved both the x-files and Mulder's life too many times to count. If Scully was calling for back-up, he was sure this whole matter was going to be resolved, and for that he was relieved. It wouldn't be long now before the x-files could get as back to normal as the x-files got. He turned into the neighborhood the apartment complex was in, and the shrill ring of the cell phone broke his concentration on the route to the apartment. He wouldn't have taken the call at a time like this normally, but his CLD told him that it was from Starkweather's father. "Look, I don't have a whole lot of time on my hands, so unless this is urgent, I don't want to hear it." He would have barked if it hadn't been someone so important. "A.D. Skin-man" the Admiral slurred, chuckling at himself. Skinner was not amused. "Skin-man! Damn if um gooohaaana miss that Mulder guy. I'm tooaaaaaaaaaaaatally PLAHASTERED! I'm having trouble- --hehehehe---getting my Lipttttths to wohk wissttth mah mouth." He bursted out into fits of laughter that transformed into sobs. "Look, Admiral, I dont' have time for this, I'm in a very tight situation here, so if you don't mind, please walk it--" "Shhhhstshkin-mannnner, I sthing sthish Mahahahrita chickah issth um gonna send Billy the Kid...Heheheheheeheee! Billy the KID!! On the DM!" Then he burst into laughter which evolved again into tears. "Oh hell." Skinner finally said after a short pause while the inebriated man's sobs dwindled. "Can you tell me how you know this?" "Sttthhhe said she wouulhuhuhuhuhud" He sobbed. "Admiral? Admi- from the silence on the other end, Skinner was sure that the man had drowned into oblivion, and was grateful. He pulled up to the apartment behind the half-dozen squad cars, wondering how much of this information Scully already knew, and wondering who lived in this apartment. Instinct told him it was someone from the syndicate, or someone who affiliated themselves with a new ring. Either way, the suspect was someone who didn't miss their target. Skinner climbed out of his car as one of the feds approached him warily. "Sir, we've searched the premises for the suspect and there was none. A shot was fired, and we went ahead. Your agent didn't have her service weapon in her possession when we found her." "Did you question the landlord?" He was not ready to deal with the darkest possibilities yet. For now, he needed to get his job done. "A woman by the name of Sasha Krycek lived here with her grandfather according to the landlord." Was the man's quick reply. Meanwhile, inside the apartment, once Scully was no longer a force to be reckoned with, Marita knew that this was the opportunity to flee. Abandoning her suitcase but arming herself with the service weapon, she made her way down the fire escape with the grace and speed of a gazelle. Scully was first aware of the coppery smell of her own drying blood. Then a massive headache coupled with the dull ache in her left side screamed at her nervous system back into full alertness. Seconds later brought footsteps up the stairs and a band of uniformed officers. Realizing with a sigh of relief that the bullet had only glazed her abdomen. Clutching it when she saw the officers approach her, she applied pressure on the table, and managed to struggle to a sitting position. Skinner soon followed with a concerned and relieved expression taking over his normally stone-stern features, he made sure that the EMS had, in fact, been called. "Scully, I wish you had told me sooner what was going on, I would have sent back-up long ago and this would have never happened," he scolded more like a parent than a boss. "Sir, Marita was here. I tried to arrest her, but she got the gun away from me and fired my gun and escaped." Skinner's expression turned from relieved to sh*t- faced. "God…Scully…I wasn't going to let you bury Mulder again…but if what the Admiral said was true…" "What did the Admiral say?" Scully demanded as the EMT tech took her pulse. Skinner couldn't bring himself to admit to her his conclusion. Meanwhile, back in the future ***************************** Back in the waiting room, while Al was with Sam and Starkweather in his time, Doggett was going stir crazy in a time and body that was not his own. He hated being ordered. He hated not being able to do anything about the situation back in his own time. He hated seeing a stranger's face in reflections, and hearing another man's voice come from his mouth. He was angry and trapped, and of course those feelings manifested themselves as a jack-ass, making him lash out at anyone in arm's reach. He surprised himself when he didn't punch the Italian Seaman back. He hated not being there for either Scully or Starkweather. When he was assigned to Scully's department, he made a promise to her to watch her back and to find Mulder. He was about to break both of those promises. He'd already broke one of them once. He knew he earned his trust after two years of partnership, but unless something was about to change drastically, it looked as though all that trust was about to be shot out of the water. Not that her trust mattered if she was going to be killed, he thought, exhaling in rage. Jerilyn Starkweather was a different matter altogether. Doggett felt a need to protect Scully, but something seered much deeper for Doc. Somehow, he felt a bond that hadn't even been there with the former Mrs. Doggett. He knew both of them must be going through a Hell worse than he was at the moment, but all the same he just couldn't stand around and wait for disaster to strike. He had abandoned both of them, and wanted to get back. But to return, he had to believe that this was possible. That this was real. That this wasn't a nightmare, a cruel joke, a neat party trick, a hallucination, or something in between. Part of him wished fervently that this was possible. If time-travel was possible, then there existed a slight chance that someone could go back in time and stop the death of Luke, who would have been 13 three days ago...or was it fifteen years and three days ago? That was becoming more and more arbitrary to Doggett. The only time reference that mattered to him now was how much time remained until disaster struck. The catch of the century was that if time travel *was* possible, then that meant that Luke could have been saved. There was something he could have done to prevent his son's horrible murder. That wasn't something he was prepared to believe. That wasn't something he was prepared to understand. That wasn't a road he wanted to go down. Doggett let out a ragged sigh; one more time he half- heartedly studied the police photos Admiral Calivici had left with him. Clinging to the possibility that maybe *this* time something would reveal itself that hadn't come to light before. Doggett wasn't aware of falling asleep. The almost- arbitrary time had gone undetected, but in his next conscious moment, he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, blinking in disblief. "Calivici!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, not taking his eyes off of the sight before him. "What the F*CK is going on here. What the HELL IS THIS!? DAMMIT I..." "Agent Doggett..." Verbeena came in, eyes widening in puzzlement. "Where's Calavici." "In the imaging chamber." "Did he have anything to do with this?" He managed to stammer, pointing a finger at what Verbeena Beeks couldn't see. "What--*this*--exactly are you referring to. Agent Doggett... John...I assure you we are not a part of what you are upset about." Dr. Beeks had never experienced a reaction like this from Leapers before. The image of an illuminated toweheaded little boy with piercing blue eyes appeared to be unalarmed by his outbursts. Doggett thought he heard the boy saying "Daddy." He was mouthing *thirty-seven* over and over again. Then the boy was gone. "Thirty seven...thirty seven...God dammit! Thirty- seven WHAT?!?! THIRTY SEVEN *WHAT* LUKE?!!!!" Verbeena ordered the nurses to prepare a sedative. Tacoma Falls LGM Lair ************* Langley got off the phone with Starkweather and finished his game of Starcraft. Of course he was going to help her. She knew where he lived. She got Byers to confess his virginity. She had a gun and knew how to use it. "You gotta love a girl who knows how to put a guy in a death grip." He said with a sigh. But there was one thing he had to do before he began. He logged on and pulled up his playlist. As much as he loved Megadeth and The Rolling Stones and Hendrix, it was time for some new stuff. "Frohike!" He hollared "What the hell is Elvis doing on my playlist!" "Blame it on Mulder." Frohike grumbled back. He was busily pecking away. Langley leaned over his shoulder. "Since when are you a fourteen year-old girl, DanasRomeo?" "Since I logged on." Frohike replied. "That is just plain SICK, man." Langley said, turning back to his computer and pulling up his favorite MP3 site. "Not as sick as having a crush on Mulder's SISTER." Frohike retorted. "I do NOT have a crush on Starkweather!" Langley pouted. "Deny, deny, deny...but it's as plain as the ridiculous glasses on your face." Frohike refuted, not even glancing up from his screen. "That does not even dignify a response!" Langley answered and went onto the Kazaa website, typed a search for Metallica, not because he actually liked their music, and spitefully right-clicked every song on the list. "Get jiggy with THAT Lars Ulrich" he muttered and waited for each song that snuck its way into that search. The song began to play, and Langley and Frohike both exchanged confused glances. "Since when did Lars Ulrich play the trumpet?" Langley wondered. I want a girl with a mind like a diamond I want a girl who knows what's best I want a girl with shoes that cut and eyes that burn like cigarettes I want a girl with bright allocations who's fast and thorough and sharp as a tack she's playing with her jewelry she's putting up her hair she's touring the facilities and picking up slack I want a girl with a short skirt and a loooooooong jacket I want a girl who gets up early I want a girl who stays up late I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity who uses a machete to cut through red tape With fingernails that shine like justice and a voice that is dark like tinted glass she is fast thorough and sharp as a tack she is touring the facility and picking up slack I want a girl with a short skirt and a looooonnng long jacket I want a girl with the smooth liquidations I want a girl with good...dividends At city bank we will meet accidentally We'll start to talk when she borrows my pen She wants a car with a cup holder armrest She wants a car that will get her there she's changing her name from Kitty to Karen She's trading her MG for a White Chrysler LaBarren I want a girl with a short skirt and a looooooooooooong jacket "She's got great dividends." Frohike said dryly. "You think Lars Ulrich knew Starkweather?" "I don't know what the fuck that was...but sure as shit wasn't Metallica." "Sometimes people don't do their homework when they upload these files." Byers said, coming in the lair. "According to those idiots, "Leaving on a Jet Plane" from the Armageddon soundtrack was recorded by Bjork and Jewel. "What ever happened to the days when bands had normal names...like They Might Be Giants..." "...and The Who, and The Kinks?" Frohike finished. En route to Justin Leo's Starkweather kept her eyes on the road, darting around cars, zipping around semis. "Get out of my way," she muttered to a large 1977 puke-orange Chrysler Landau that just boxed her in. "I'm gonna miss my exit," she snarled, fuming. "God dammit all." "Starkweather," Sam said patiently as Al sat quietly in the backseat, sweating. "Slow down." "I'm only doing 65." "No, I mean slow down your thinking. You're going off like a bat out of hell on a hunch. That's a little too..." Sam grimaced. "Mulder-like for my taste." "That's not even funny, even by your redneck standards." "Why Leo? If I'm going to get dirty with you, I need to know why." Starkweather sighed. "I wish I would have thought of it sooner, it would have saved everyone a bunch a grief, Mulder and Scully especially. But y'know when you're suddenly widowed, things have a tendency to slip your mind. I could just kick myself Doggett. You were right, Mulder IS getting set up, possibly to go to prison, but more likely to be killed and it's because I had my head up my butt." "What are you remembering?" Starkweather sighed with relief as she passed the Chrysler and floored it, going 80 mph now. "Before all this shit went down, you know how I stopped by your house a few days ago to drop off a copy of the Scotland file you wanted to look over? And I told you how Ben and I were going to go to Hooters to celebrate him getting his new job and his first solo case?" "Hooters?" "Yeah, I know... real classy... anyway, the beer started flowing and people stop talking and start gossiping....." ********************** A few days back Hooters Bar and Resturant Ben found his new friends quickly, they had rock-star seating in front of the big screen TV. Ben introduced Jerilyn to everyone as his "big, bad FBI broad," which broke the ice immediately. Jerilyn was relieved to see a lot of the lawyers had brought girlfriends and wives. Soon, the beer was flowing and Jerilyn found herself laughing along with everyone else, feeling for the first time in a long long time, like a normal woman. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a familiar dark-haired, hazel puppy-dogged eyed man, so slowly, she swiveled her head around and sure enough, there was the Deputy Mayor, watching the game with some of his City Hall cronies. He grinned at her and Starkweather forced herself to smile back and, as politely as possible, turn her attention back to the game. she grumbled to herself as she sipped her beer. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that the 'son-of- a-bitch' was growing on her. She couldn't explain it, didn't even try to explain it Ben, to Doggett, to anyone, but she felt like she knew him from somewhere before. Perhaps in a different lifetime, but, even though she still personally didn't care for him but was slowly learning to accept his assistance and advice... whenever she was in his presence, she felt a strong aura of... She couldn't figure out why that word kept popping into her head. She took Ben's hand and tried to enjoy the rest of the night. Several beers later, Jerilyn finally managed to forget about the existence of Mulder and got drawn into petty scandals that plague every business and occupation. J. Stephen Cello III, recently promoted to the status of "partner" at Carter, Spangle and Adam, ordered another round plus another plate of raw oysters on the half shell, turned to Margot Marie Rogeux- Brandybuck, the lone female lawyer present, and said "Hey Meg, psycho-boy finally got canned." "I thought he was fired a long time ago?" Meg said after she downed her beer in one big chug. Her name was prettier and bigger than she was, but her personality made up for lack of looks. She could also outdrink almost all of her male co-workers, which was amazing since she was more petite than Starkweather or Scully even. She was also as lethal as arsenic in the legal arena. "Did you order me another beer, Steve?" She lit a cigarette and offered one to Ben, which he accepted. Steve, meanwhile was so devastatingly handsome, he could make women forget the existence of Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and Russell Crowe. When Ben introduced him to her, Jerilyn had a huge "Damn, I'm married" moment when she looked into his dazzling green eyes and perfectly white smile. "You doubt me?" He said mockingly. "No, I mean, it's official. Jessy Spangle herself told me they officially terminated him today." Jerilyn had a pretty good buzz going, feeling like a wimp next to Meg and Ben was feeling no pain. She devoutly hoped he remembered that they had taken the motorcycle out and she was in no shape to drive them home on it. She shrugged it off. There was a Motel 6 within staggering distance. A devillish little smile played on her lips. <> Ben broke into her impure thoughts. "Wait, guys, I'm lost. Who's psycho boy? I don't think I've met him..... You weren't missing anything," a voice drawled from further up the table. Snickering was abound. Ben, who loved gossip worse than a old woman, persisted. "So what's the story with Pyscho-Boy?" Meg took a long pull on her newest beer before she started. "Young kid, fresh outta school. Jessy and Lisa (as in Lisa MacKenna Carter, daughter of the decreased law firm founder, Malachy Carter, second in line after senior partner Jessy Spangle) were recruiting him hardcore. Finished first in his class in his undergrad years at Purdue in Indiana, fucking second out of everybody at his class at Harvard Law. We get him here and he's doing crackerjack good. Nailed his first two cases, got a sweet out of court settlement on his third. Was making the firm not just good money, but real money. Then after awhile, I don't know. He got weird on us." "Define weird," Ben asked. Meg and Steve looked at each other, then looked at Jerilyn. "Well... we don't want to offend anyone, especially you, Jeri," Steve said, giving her a smile that made Mrs. Starkweather want to melt at his feet. <> she told herself as she leaned her head, spinning just slightly from all the beer, onto Ben's shoulder. "It takes a lot to offend me, Steve," she said, snuggling into Ben. "Well, I gathered that... but Ben told us that you've had the dubious honor of being assigned to the X- Files Division at the Bureau and we've all heard stories about your predecessor, Special Agent Mulder." "That's Deputy Mayor Mulder, if you please," Meg said, lighting another cigarette. "How the hell did he get THAT job?" <> Jerilyn thought with a groan as she said "I heard the stories too and a lot of it is just that. Stories. Really, the X-Files just checks into shitty crimes that normal feds can't explain away. We're the IRS of the paranormal. We audit these claims of strange happening to see if there's for real or not and a lot of times they're not... but the times they are... damn, watch your step, the first one's a lu-lu." There was chuckling abound, but then Meg asked. "So do you believe in that stuff? UFOs and whatnot?" Jerilyn thought carefully. She knew she was drunk, so she made herself speak slowly. She did not want to spew out: <> "Oh, I don't know. With an universe as big as ours, its illogical to even pretend that other life cannot exist out there, but on the other side, the only aliens I've seen for sure are on the movie screen." Jerilyn shrugged. "I have an open-mind, but not so open that my brains will fall out." "Well, that's what happened to Leo. His head opened up and his brains plopped out onto the floor," Steve said before he sucked down an oyster. "Damn shame. A damn shame." "Leo?" Ben asked. "Who's Leo?" "Justin Leo. Psycho Boy." Steve devoured another oyster. "About four months ago, he just came unglued. Guess he had some girlfriend, a high school sweetheart that was abducted and he had never been able to deal with the truth of what happened." "Which was?" Ben asked. "According to police reports, the kids were on a date, she wandered off into the woods and was never seen again. Leo swore up and down that she was abducted. By aliens. And he saw them take her. He must of realized that he sounded less than sane because he never spoke of it again. But he started messing up at work. Missed a few court dates, was put on probation by Spangle. Didn't show up for work a few days, kept calling in sick, got put on Short Term Disability and Lisa suggested he get some professional help. Came into work a few weeks later, and this was right before you started, Ben. Like literally days before you and Jerilyn moved down here and even interviewed with us." Steve helped himself to yet another oyster. "Want one?" he gestured to the plate. Ben and Jeri both shook their heads. "He came into work," Steve went on, happy that he could have all the raw oysters to himself, "and it was so obvious that he hadn't slept at all. He looked like shit and he was co-representing a big, big client with me, or well, was supposed to. I had called him just a few days before that to see if he got the notes and files I sent him and if he had his shit in gear and he said yes, he was ready to rock and roll, so I left it at that, but when I saw him stagger into the office..." Steve shook his head. "And I felt bad what I did, but if I told you how many hours I logged into that case and how much I stood to gain, not just my salary, but what I was going to be bringing into CS & A, you would piss yourselves." "Was he drunk?" Jerilyn asked, appalled at such unprofessional behavior. She had done somethings on the job that she regretted wholeheartedly, but she had never gone into work under the influence. "No, just sleep deprived. So I pulled him aside because, well, we weren't the best of friends, but we were bar buddies and we used to play squash together on a regular basis before he flipped out on us. But I think I was the closest thing to a friend that he had at that point so I asked him what was wrong with him and did he realize how close Jess and Lis were to firing him. And he told me that he had been moonlighting for a secret agency that would help him get his high school sweetheart back. He told me crazy shit no self respecting lawyer would do. We get such a bad rap about being money-grubbing and corrupt and all it takes is one bad lawyer to make those of us who try and follow our code of ethics look really bad. Plus, he was making Carter, Spangle and Adams look bad. He had dirty deals going all over the place. I can't even imagine some of the crap he's pulled, judges in his pocket, taking payoffs, bending tax laws for businesses we wouldn't even touch- "Why not?" Jerilyn asked. "Because we believe they're not businesses at all but fronts for illegal operations. I was disgusted. So..." here he sighed. "I knew I was going to destroy his career, but dammit, I was not going to have my firm get pulled into an investigation for one little pissant crook, no matter how smart he was. Especially after I was just made partner. So... I went to Levi (Levi Adams, the third and last living founder of the law firm, technically in retirement since he was nearing eighty, but still owned the firm and still came into the office to offer advice, except when the weather was good for golfing) and told him what was up, what Psycho Boy told me and you know what? That old man can move **fast** when he gets a burr up his butt. Tracked Leo down, told him in no uncertain terms that he's suspended without pay or benefits until further notice, his contract will be reviewed by the senior partners and he will recommend an investigation and an disbarment hearing. Nobody had seen him since. I had lunch with Jessy today and she told him that Psycho Boy had been officially terminated as of today and Lisa is starting a quiet, low key investigation of him." "What a nut job," was all Ben had to say before the next bit of tittle-tattle popped up. "Speaking of nut jobs, have you ever heard of a guy named...." *********************************** Back in Starkweather's car Starkweather shook her head. "So, you see, nobody hears from Leo and all of a sudden, he's representing Mulder? For the murder of a lawyer from Carter, Spangle and Adams? Leo must have done a good job keeping it quiet because if CS & A knew he was practising law again, they'd be all over him like a cheap suit. ESPECIALLY if it is to defend the man who is suspected of killing one of their own. And CS & A love Ben's ass. I know that for sure." "So what are you going to do when you get to Leo's?" Sam asked. "Get Ben's lighter back." "Starkweather, pull over," Sam said. "Sorry, but you should have gone before we left." "Starkweather, I am serious. Pull over... there, the next rest stop. We need to talk before we do this." "Talk about what?" "The fact that if Mulder is being targeted, that may very well mean that Scully's being targeted, Skinner's being targeted, Reyes, myself, you... we can't just go storming into Leo's like... like... an action hero. We need to think this out, what to do. How to help Mulder. Because if you get yourself killed, that won't help any of us." Sam looked at Al out of the corner of his eyes. Al looked down at his com-link, looked back up at Sam and smiled, nodding his head. He had good news. Starkweather sighed. "I'm going to use the little girl's room then," she muttered. "I'll be back." The minute she disappeared into the women's room, Sam turned around, "Al?" "Starkweather's going to be okay. She avoids Leo, who was sent out to kill her. Leo gets busted breaking into her apartment by an off-duty cop who lives across the hall, so he's going to be out of the picture for a little while. So, she's going to be fine for a little bit." Sam breathed a long sigh of relief. "Don't get too comfortable Sam, Mulder's still in trouble. The X-Files still gets shut down and all the X-Filers get picked off one by one, Starkweather included." "What do we have to do, Al?" Sam demanded. Al shook his head. "We gotta get Mulder outta that cell. And we gotta get Benny-Boy outta harm's way." "Oh boy..." Sam muttered. "Wonder who I can call on to plan a prison break?" Al hestitated, then said, "Well..." Sam read his mind. "NO." "Sam." "NO." "Sa---AMMMM..." "I have no choice?" "Not at this late in the game." Sam pursed his lips and slid over into the driver's seat just as Starkweather came back. "What are you doing?" "Get in," he said. "We're going for a ride." "Where to?" "The Lone Gunmen." "OH GAWD....." she bitched heartily but she got in and let Sam-in-Doggett drive The LGM's Lair 9:00 PM, Twenty-one hours away from Mulder's predicted death Sam had wasted precious time getting lost. For the life of him, he could not remember how to get to the Lone Gunmen's lair, since the first and last time he was there, Mulder had driven. Al had left much earlier, mumbling something or other about checking in on Scully. Starkweather had never been to the infamous Lair before and asked him several times, "Are you sure you know where you're going?" But at straight up nine o'clock Sam finally pulled into the dirt parking lot in front of the warehouse the Gunmen had commandeered. Sam and Starkweather got out of the car. "Where's the door?" she asked as she followed Sam around the building. "Here it is," Sam knocked on the heavy metal door, blended in with the rest of the rusted-out building. "Ow!" He shook his hand after pounding on the door. "See... this is what's cool about metal-toed boots," Starkweather gave the door a few swift kicks. The peephole slid open and Langley's nasally voice was heard, "Oh, it's you," he said disparagingly to Sam-in-Doggett. Starkweather reached through the peephole and poked Langly in the face hard. "Let us in, Blonde-O." "OW!! CRIPES!!" Langley hollared as he backed away. Shortly after, the door itself opened. Langley stood there, rubbing his face Sam decided to take control of the situation. "Look, all of that aside, we need your help." "With what?" Byers had just come out of the bathroom. "Mulder is in trouble-" Sam started. "No shit," Langley interjected. "I have reason to believe that he could very well be killed tomorrow." "That's not good," Frohike stated the obvious. "Especially since he probably used up his last of his nine lives," Langley added, going to the mini-fridge to see if there was any ice. He could feel his face swelling up from where Starkweather had poked him. "We need to get him out of that cell," Sam said. Everyone stopped what they were doing. "Doggett, you are NOT suggesting a prison break!" Starkweather gasped. "Starkweather, you said yourself that the game just got dirty." "Well, I KNOW... but, god, Doggett... our careers... and Mulder? What are we going to do with him? Let him go on the lamb? What about Scully and the baby? And what if we're wrong? We don't have a shred of physical evidence of either guilt or innocence and we get him out and-" "Mulder's NOT a killer," Frohike interupted staunchly. "I'm in." "I don't believe that he's a killer either, not anymore, but if we don't have sufficient proof that he's innocent, we could ALL go to jail for a very long time. And I look terrible in orange." Starkweather defended her stance. "We need to go through the proper channels. We need to find Leo-" "Starkweather, I'd hate to interrupt," Sam said, "but you weren't exactly thinking about going through proper channels when we were about to go after Leo tonight." Starkweather scowled. "I wasn't thinking clearly and you set me straight. But there's a difference between misdemeanor assault and a felony offense. Mulder IS in trouble, but let's get him out of the county lock- up, get him into solitary at a secured location and lets work the legal system. We're FBI agents, not the fucking A-Team." "I LOVE that show!!!" Langley said. "I'm in!" "Starkweather," Sam said patiently as he felt her hazel eyes bore into him. "There isn't time to play by the rules anymore. We need to get Mulder out now. Tonight preferably." "Tonight's no good," Frohike said, who had switched computers while his was downloading information from CS & A. "County doesn't have the best security system in the world, but still, it's pretty intricate. We could probably have their systems crash by tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon by the latest." Starkweather was totally ignoring Frohike's speech. "What proof do you have Doggett? That Mulder's in this much danger that there's no other alternative?" Sam thought fast. "The house explosion. If these people can blow up a house of an innocent woman... who's to say who's next? Plus we need Mulder. We need him to find out what really happened to Ben. I have trouble believing the body they pulled out of the river is really him," he HAD to get her to trust him. "There's a chance that Ben could still be alive." Starkweather sadly dug something out of her pocket. "This IS his wedding ring though." She held the golden band up for him to see. "But Doc," Sam said, "if you saw Leo holding Ben's lighter, who's to say they didn't take other things from him?" Starkweather thought carefully of the "hallucinations" she had been having lately. "Do you think there's really a chance that's true?" she said in a voice that wanted to hope. "I do, I really do," Sam said, longing to reach out and hold her tight but instead just taking her hand that held Ben's ring. "I really believe you're going to see Ben again to put that ring back where it belongs." Starkweather's eyes got all bright as if she was about to cry, but she was fully aware of the three spectators around her. "WHAT???" she snapped at them. She put the ring back in her pocket and pursed her lips. "Alright, how are we going to get the cocksucker out of jail?" she asked the Lone Gunmen Meanwhile...back in the future... ************************************ Dr. Beeks felt sorry for the man falling under the forged spell of the sedative, but she was really left with no choice. In the agitated state brought on by undoubtedly heightened psychological stress, the leapee was acting irrationally and would possibly do more damage that the already ridiculously-tight project budget could stand. The Admiral would undoubtedly give her a mouthful when he returned from the chamber to check on the situation on the slight chance that Doggett could provide anymore useful information, but there was little she could do. Her hands were tied and Doggett slipped into unconsciousness, mumbling something to her about finding the Admiral for him and finding out about 37... In Doggett's next conscious moment, he found himself climbing out of Mulder's car in a driveway of a modest home with his own name in blockletters sternly propped on the mailbox. He reached down for his clipper when he saw his truck was in the driveway. Passing the rearview mirror, he paused and ran his hands over the peppering hair and more obvious crowesfeet, but that wasn't what unnerved him. What made him stop in his tracks was his own reflection starring back at him. His pulse raced as he touched the hood. "Who the hell was driving the truck?" Doggett murmured as he ran as stealthily as possible into the house. He whipped out his cell. "Mulder, I need you back over here, something's up." Without a word, he tucked the cell back in his pocket and burst open the door, wielding his gun. "What the hell did you do with Doggett?" Starkweather, obviously fifteen years older, was demanding a stranger. Starkweather gave him an imploring glance, and Doggett ran upstairs. A fair-haired little girl with his eyes met him in the hallway. He got down on a knee so he could be eye-level with the little girl. "Daddy, Mommy isn't going to hurt that man in the kitchen is he?" She said, running up to him and putting her arms around his neck. Doggett somehow accepted this as a perfectly natural thing. "He said he was bringing you here, but Mommy looked scared when he came in the house. I don't think he is here to hurt anybody." "What's his name?" "Sam." "Well, I better make sure your Mommy and *Sam* aren't going to mess up the kitchen. You go play in your room, okay?" "Okay daddy." She chirped and planted a kiss on his cheek. He went into the kitchen, where Starkweather was still welding a gun at Sam. In the next few minutes, Doggett saw Mulder pull into the driveway and come into the house, bursting through the door. "Sam?!" Mulder sputtered. The man nodded. "You know this creep?" demanded Starkweather, not taking her eyes off the man. Earlier that evening Cello Residence ******************* With a heavy sigh, J. Steven Cello III plopped down his briefcase in the hallway and slung his coat haphazardly over an easy chair. The female members of is law firm often marveled at how a man with Rock Hudsonesque looks, Roman numerals behind his name, a successful career, and a 1956 red Porsche convertible stayed single as long as he did. Steve went for the freezer and got out what Ben had called once the Bachelor's Special, then went to the fridge for a Heineken, took a long sip and set the microwave for his frozen dinner. "Hey, Steve, did you see the news tonight?" "No, all I pay attention to is how the ball falls, how the rain falls, how the market falls, and how the gavel falls, and that I can get online. The news is too goddamn depressing." Steve grumbled back, taking a cardboardish mouthful of his unevenly heated chicken. "Well...turn to channel seven, will ya. It's depressing...but you sound like you could use a good car wreck to watch." "If you're just joining us we're at the site of an explosion that happened right here behind me. Earlier this evening this lot behind me had a house in it. Luckily, all occupants have survived, no one has been hurt, but questions remain about the origins of the explosions." "I saw Psycho Boy in a clip earlier and did some quick checking. Turns out that the house belonged to Ana and Harry Sedai...his step-sister." "Well, if that don't put the vodka in the jello shooters." He whistled. "You wanna hear something else?" Meg egged on Steve nodded his head as if she could see him. "I did some more digging and get this...the little rat has been cherading as one of our lawyers and according to your good friend and mine, the DA, said that she got the impression Leo was just going through a song and dance, and the DM's bail was set through the roof." "I can't believe that little shit!" He muttered. "I tell you what," he offered, "you fax those police reports to me and I'll do your homework for ya. You take the rest of the night off." "I appreciate that, Steve. The police reports are fucking captivating. They read like some goddamn lawyer novel." "That's why I love this job, Megaparsec! I'll see ya tomorrow." He said and hung up. He booted up his computer, and pushed play on his stereo. "Phantom of the Opera" blasted through the house as he went to the court TV website. Back at the LGM Lair Sam was hovering over Frohike's shoulder. Byers and Langley were gone, sent on errands such as gassing up the Lone Gunmanmobile, filling a prescription for a sedative that Dr. Starkweather wrote out, buying supplies like bullets, batteries, beer, pizzas, a hat, a pair of reading glasses, theatrical makeup and a pair of ladies shorts and a tank top and to get Ben's motorcycle from the Starkweathers' garage. Starkweather was sitting by herself in the corner, cleaning her guns and Doggett's as well. "Okay, here's the scoop," Frohike said, pointing at MapQwest on the screen. "Here's where me and the calvary will be operating. Once you and Freezie Queenie over there-" Starkweather shot him a dirty look, but Frohike ignored her "-get Mulder out, we'll roundaview two blocks south of lockup. You and Starkweather go together but don't take her piece of shit car and don't take your truck. Hopefully, we'll have the surveillance equipment so screwed up and you guys will have the main guard so drugged up, they wouldn't be able to pin it on you. But you guys gotta move fast. Once we do our kung-fu on their systems, we've got a window of twenty-five minutes." "That's not a lot of time," Starkweather said, extremely concerned. She had just finished up Doggett's side arm and had started working on her little Baretta she liked to wear in her ankle holster. Just then, her cell phone went off. "Agent Starkweather." "Starkweather, it's AD Skinner. I'm very concerned for you-" Starkweather half-expected him to call her "young lady." "I know sir, and I'm sorry, but can I call you back? Thanks." She hung up on him before he even gave her his consent. Best to leave the AD out of the loop as far as illegal activities go. June 19, 2002 The Lone Gunmen's Lair 11:00 AM Six hours away from Mulder's projected death Everyone started to move around nine-thirty. Starkweather took over the bathroom first and the "boys" (Sam included) waiting with impatient feet and full bladders for her to get out. Finally, Frohike declared, "Dammit, I'm a man. I'm going to find a bush," and stalked out while Starkweather finished her shower. She came out, hair wet, wearing the tight white tank top and cargo shorts that Langley had bought for her last night. "Little short, Langley," she grumbled at him as she walked by, showing a little more leg and thigh than she was used to. Langly only grinned like an idiot and went about his work humming "I want a girl with a short skirt and a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng jacket." Starkweather had flashed him a dirty look as she parted her damp hair and started to plait it into one thick braid. As she fixed her hair, Sam dove into the bathroom and washed up, putting on one of Byers' suits. Byers himself had left to get food. He came out to find Starkweather with a Swiss Miss hairdo, pushing hairpins into her scalp while Langley watched in awe. "Dude, she looks like Princess Leia in 'Empire Strikes Back'!" "Oh shut up," both Starkweather and Frohike snapped. "Sit down, Doggie," Frohike ordered him gruffly. Sam did and let Frohike unbutton his shirt. "Kinky," Starkweather purred as she patted the braids around her head. "Careful, Mulder'll get jealous," Langley said as he started to pack up his gear. "Stick your head into a bucket of Chlorox," Frohike snarled as he taped the microphone to Doggett's chest. "Now this is plastic," Frohike lectured him, "so the sound quality ain't that great, but you won't be setting off any metal detectors. So you gotta speak up good and loud, but not too loud." Sam buttoned up his shirt as Frohike went to get the earpiece. "This cell phone," he held up a Nokia 5100 model "is a fake, don't bother trying to call us on it. It's camouflage for this," He held up an ear piece. "See, the cord can become detached," He demonstrated then put the cord back into the earpiece and connected the cord to the phone, "and it'll still work. Once the clock starts tickin', if the cord gets ripped away from the phone, don't worry about. Keep your real cell phone in your shirt pocket so you don't lose it. Now, you'll be able to talk to both me and Starkweather," he turned to her now, carrying a small headphone with only one earpiece that had a small boom microphone attached. "Oh goody," she said. "I get to be Garth Brooks." Frohike carefully slid the headpiece on, positioning it underneath her braids. He fiddled about with the mike. "How does that feel?" "Weird. But I'll live. Does it come with a fake cell phone too?" "No ma'am," Frohike said. "Yours is real. You're paired up with Mulder so if we for some reason we get separated from you two and out of radio contact, we still have digital contact." Frohike took her hand and guided it to a small switch on the headset. "If we start breaking up, flick this small button "Up" and then hit the number three and the "Send" button. You'll get us, I promise." "What if I get separated from Mulder?" Starkweather asked. Frohike glowered at her. "Your job is NOT to get separated from Mulder." "I'm not PLANNING on it!" she snapped. "Hey, hey, hey..." Sam said. "We're all getting a little tense. Let's just... take deep breaths. Cool down. We need to be calm to pull this off." Sam sounded more relaxed than he felt.... he looked at his watch.... straight up eleven o'clock. Six hours away from Mulder's predicted doom... "Oh boy..." he muttered as Byers came back from McDonalds with enough grease to clog the arteries of everyone in a small county. <> he wondered. He also wondered what Scully had found out last night. June 19, 2001 3:16pm, Eastern Standard Time Forty-four minutes away from Mulder's projected death Sam had been sitting in the rental car, a nice looking Ford Explorer that blended in nicely with all the other cars in the busy Washington DC traffic, for hours now. His wait was nearly over. He looked his (Doggett's) watch. Three-sixteen on the dot. Sam's swiss cheesed memory tormented him. He knew that those two numbers had Biblical significance, but for the life of him, he could not remember what.... "Hey Papa John," Starkweather's voice burst into his thoughts. "You good to go?" Because of the earpiece, her voice sounded tinny. Sam leaned casually on his steering wheel, as if he was waiting for someone, when actually he was looking across the street and the Lone Gunmenmobile, which was posing as a touristy T-shirt vending booth. "Locked, loaded and ready to go," Sam told her although he was privately thinking <> "Are you sure you guys are secure selling shirts?" Sam asked nervously. The last thing they needed was for his crew to be busted for selling without a license. Langly broke in. "It's all good, man, we do this in our spare time. The shirts are no big deal, Byers likes to tie-dye stuff, so we buy Rit dyes and white shirts and let Byers go to town and when the Net is slow or the servers are down, we hock his shit. We've got a permit and everything and we even make a coupla bucks off of it." "Want me to save you a shirt, Doggett?" Starkweather asked dryly. "They are truly works of art." "No thank you." Sam assured her as he looked at his watch again. Three-twenty-six... he felt the fluttering wings of butterflies doing aerobatics in his stomach. He worried not only of the very real danger that lay ahead, but of Scully. What else happened last night? Was she alright? Was she safe? Did she get to see Mulder? But he dared not to call her... Time was too precious now... Sam checked his watch again... Three twenty- seven... Time was very precious now. Justin Leo walked down the hallway, comforted by the dimnessness before the sunrise. He quietly counted the number of doors before finding Ben and Jeri's apartment. He jimmied the lock quite easily and let himself in, not knowing that if he didn't shut the door all that tightly, the cat liked to pry it open with his paw and sneak out. Leo cocked his weapon and stole through the living room and down the hallway. He poked his head into the bedroom, the office, the bathroom. No Jerilyn. "Dammit," he muttered. Well, he would just have to wait for her to come back, he supposed. He worried about the other errands for Marita Covarrubias had demanded of him. Getting the serum and the information to that thing which was once a compassionate human being, now only a lethal drone that Leo could not even comprehend. He felt himself start to panic because he didn't know where Agent Starkweather was. Marita had demanded that Starkweather be neutralized first: "Agent Starkweather is a problem we need solved. Now. Tonight." She had said before handing him the gun and picture of her. It had to be done right. It had to be completed before dawn. Leo watched the living room slowly brighten as he clasped the weapon in his hand, oblivious to the cat sneaking out the door. Leo was lost in his own thoughts for the photo album was open to the page Ben had shown Jerilyn when he had first suspected a connection between her and the Deputy Mayor. Leo picked up the album for a better look. As he lifted the heavy book, he noticed a silver antique locket lying on the coffee table. He picked it up and opened it, looked at the picture of the woman and child together. After stuffing the locket in his pocket, he then took the picture out of the album. Looked at the long dark hair and the catty greeny- gold eyes and felt bile bubbling up his throat. He didn't understand. Lilly was blonde with grey eyes. But this burnette with hazel eyes had her face and her smile and her body... Leo's eyes were drawn towards the mantle. At a tastefully framed five by seven photograph of someone's wedding. Leo got up to examine the two-dimension image of Benjamin Starkweather in a rented black tux, smiling broadly for all to see and of Lilly, with her hair now blond like he remembered and softly curled, clinging to her groom in a simple white gown and in lieu of a veil, a halo of creamy pink roses and baby's breath sat onto of her head like a forest nymph's crown. The sickness left Leo, replaced by a rage and a hurt that threatened to over take what was left of his control. Lilly, alive after all these years. Lilly, disappeared at the tender age of eighteen to reappear ten years later as this almost legendary bitter, bitchy fed. Lilly, married to another man, fucking another man.... Leo's lips pulled together in a thin tight line, clenching the gun in his hands. He looked too and hard for Lilly, Benjamin Starkweather was not going to corrupt her anymore. Leo already decided that Lilly was not going to die. Not today. He'd wait for her to come and he'd warn her and take her away. But the minute that Mulder was at the mercy of the replicant-slave, Ben too, would breathe his last... It never even crossed his mind once that Starkweather was not Lilly, would never be Lilly, but was the key to finding Lilly. He was what Scully had always privately feared Mulder would become if she had not been there to keep him honest. Completely, totally, irrationally obsessed... Caesar the cat had succeded in getting out of the apartment and had decided to take a nap in the doorway of Officer Sarah Johnson's doorway, who had just gotten home from a twelve hour overnight shift. Her bleary eyes blinked a few times when she noticed the cat. "I don't have a cat," she mumbled as she stooped down to examine the tag. "Oh... it's you Caesar," she groaned, picked the cat up. "Playing Houdini again, I see," she crossed down the hall to return the cat. She noticed the door was opened, just enough for the sly feline to slip out. Officer Johnson heard the sound of weeping coming from inside. Under the circumstances, normally, she would not have put the cat down and drawn her gun because she had heard all about sensationalistic way the unfortunate Mrs. Starkweather become a widow. **But it was the sound of a MAN crying** Johnson crept up to the door, tapping on it. "Mrs. Starkweather?" she said cautiously. Leo was so beside himself he didn't hear the cop's voice. The cop slid through the kitchen and peered around the corner, looking into the living room. She saw the stranger, sobbing his heart out, his hand on the Starkweathers' wedding picture, his other hand, clutching a loaded gun. She swung out of her hiding place, pointing her service revolver at him. "Drop the weapon, immediately!" she ordered. Leo jumped and fired at the cop, hitting her in the shoulder. Johnson went down, but not before she fired at him, getting his upper arm. Leo unwittingly changed history, not by going through the front door and collapsing for Johnson to nab, like Al had told Sam what would happen... but instead he staggered through the apartment, blood staining the carpets forever, into the Starkweathers' bedroom and out to their balcony and down the fire escape... Johnson crawled towards a phone. The female EMT interrupted Skinner and Scully in mid conversation. "Ma'am, all vitals are normal. The wound seems to be superficial. Is there any pain?" When Scully shook her head, the EMT continued. "Looks like you're set then. I'll just need you to sign these release forms since you're acting as your own physician, and you'll be on your way." Scully nodded a thank you as Skinner approached. "Yet another blazer ruined..." She sighed regretfully. "And I got this one at a really great sale..." "Scully, care to fill me in? What the hell happened?" "In my professional opinion?" Skinner simply nodded. "The bitch is back...ohhhhh...sorry sir...blood loss...uhhh...I honestly don't know what to think...I know Marita is connected with all this. I came here with damning evidence on Mulder's defense attorney who was connected to this address. She caught me off gaurd, Justin Leo came out of hiding, and looked like he saw a ghost. He was acting and looking as though he was on some sort of hallucenogenic drug. Then Marita ordered him to finish his 'job' and she shot me, and that's the last I knew." "Scully, you go home and take care of Will, I'm going to follow this up." "Sir," Scully insisted with a sigh, "with all due respect I can't just take a back seat in all this. I found a connection between the Syndicate and Agent Starkweather involving Mulder's father and Starkweather's adoptive father yesterday, and after what I saw tonight, I think Leo's involved with this somehow..." "Scully, I'm not going to allow you to put your life in danger anymore over this matter." Skinner scolded, "I know you wanna help Mulder, but we have plenty of manpower right now to put out a hunt for Leo. Catching Leo is not going to be an issue." Skinner began slowly. "Then what is the issue, Sir?" Scully demanded. "Point blank, Scully, Billy Miles is being sent to kill him." Her boss said matter-of-factly. "He's being sent to his cell tomorrow afternoon..." Scully's eyes widened as he spoke, "that's why he had been in the county jail instead of the state penetentiary after his trial...that's why..." he couldn't even finish. "That's why he was set up?" Scully outraged, "To be baited? If that's all, Sir, I've got...oh my God...Starkweather..." "I still don't see how Starkweather fits into this equation at all, Scully." Skinner persisted. "Scully," Skinner began, "just make sure all your ducks are in a row. If Leo gets away...Mulder doesn't stand a chance. Remember...he's a trained lawyer, he'd take legal loopholes and make them into your noose." "You don't have to worry about that, Sir." Just then, she looked down and saw the trail of blood going out the balcony. "Sir...I've got to go...I'll call you back when I know anything." She didn't wait for his goodbye as she looked down and saw the trail of blood. "We need a SWAT team out here NOW! Officer possibly down--Yes, I'm the agent you just sent a team out for--Poss...possibly down because I know an officer lived--*lives* here and there is a pool of blood in the living area and a trail of blood leading out to the bal--" as she barked orders into the phone, she followed the trail out to the balcony, as she saw the window ledge painted with dried blood, and looked down below, she froze. Justin Leo, having passed out in the bushes momentarily from loss of blood, was just beginning to weave through the shadows. Detecting his movement below, Scully changed her plan. "Call ya right back..." she said, and pocketed her phone. Then, she made a lightening-quick decision on her easiest way down. "Mulder, you owe me a new outfit." She mumbled kicking off her pumps and slipping out of her stockings so she could scale the drainpipe in hot persuit without a slip, and sticking her clipper inside her skirt, she got her footing. High on adrenaline, Leo bolted away from the apartment complex as soon as he spied a petite form clinging to the drainpipes, his ambedexterity helped him to aim at the movement on the pipes who was slowly making her way down. Since they were both moving targets, Scully only flinched at the sound of the firing. "I'mcomingLillynotmuchlongernowbabyI'malmostthereLill yjustgottamakeittothecarLilly" he half-mumbled, half- growled incoherently as he sprinted down the sidewalk. Scully wasn't far behind him. She whinced as the gravel bore into her feet, but in the moment of the persuit, it wasn't consequencial. She pulled her gun out from underneath the elastic in her belt. "STOP YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE MURDER OF BEN AND JERILYN STARKWEATHER YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU IN A COURT OF LAW YOU HAVE THE RIGHT--!" She barked, aiming her gun. When he got to the apartment- complex parkinglot, she realized where he was headed. "Oh no you don't..." she mumbled, and changed direction, going to her own car. Frantically, she pulled out her cellphone as her engine revved up, she dialed Doggett's cell. No answer. "Come on, come on, pick up!" She coaxed as she tore out of the parkinglot, she dialed Starkweather's cell, carefully snaking in and out of traffic as fast as she could, gaining steadily on her target. "Dammit!" she hissed when Starkweather didn't respond. Thankfully, it was light traffic, and Leo was leading her to an evidently residential area by the Patomac River. Racing after Leo, she then dialed Skinner, "Sir, I'm nearing a neighborhood called Patomac Court in persuit of Justin Leo, he is armed and may still be under the influence. We appear to be stopped at some sort of warehouse. No sir, it's not marked...I cant' tell you which one," Scully said crouching under the dash. "LILLY!! LILLY!" Leo was screaming, his pistol had clunked on the gravel, and he was now furiously pounding fists rattling the sheetmettle, making the warehouse door sound like falling rain. Scully took this opportunity to make her arrest. Slowly and as soundlessly as possible, she opened her door. She grabbed her gun in the seat next to her and grabbed a set of hand-cuffs. "JUSTIN LEO!" She shouted, aiming her gun at the man for the second time that night, "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE MURDERS OF BENJAMIN AND JERILYN STARKWEATHER AND AIDING AND abetting to the pending murder of Deputy Mayor F. William Mulder," now the cuffs slapped and clicked shut. He was red-faced and swollen now from hysterics. "You have the right to remain silent," Which the suspect did, save for quaking sobs, "anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can't affoard an attorney the court will appoint you one. Do you --" Scully stopped in mid-sentence, the door had been pounded open and cries for help from an apparently gagged mouth could be heard towards the back. "Who the hell have you got in there?" She demanded her prisoner. "Jimmy Hoffa?" She cuffed the other end of the links to her own wrist and led him through the stacks of boxes back to where the muffled cries were coming from. There was a locked room in the back, "Stand back, sir!" she commanded, "I'm going to shoot the door down, we're getting you out of here!" With a bang, the lock blew open, and there sat Ben, bound and gagged in a huddle on the floor. She didn't have the heart to correct the charges against Leo in front of her husband and hastily, albeit unmercifully, yanked the duct tape from his mouth. She then took a peice of glass on the floor and cut the tape binding his feet, followed by his hands. "Agent Scully...I..." Ben began. "Just get in the car," she said as they headed out the door. Leo had just been uncuffed and forced into the back seat when the same black sedan she had seen earlier screeched to a hault behind her own car, sending dust and gravell flying. "Agent Scully," a familiar old voice cracked as a tall figure emerged from the car, "I wouldn't fire if I were you. Kill me and you kill Mulder. Kill them all." Two more goons emerged, both aiming thier own weapons. "I'm the only one who can stop it." Now it was Scully's turn to surrender her weapon to the gravel. She heard Ben whince in pain and then fall limp, and saw them toss him unceremoniously into the backseat. "The agent?" one of them asked. "She will be of use to us later. Without her prisoner, her proof, or her partner she will comply. Without her husband, Widow Starkweather will comply to our demands as well. For now, leave her be." The man commanded softly as he puffed his cigarette. Having just gotten his orders from the men who assailed Ben, Justin Leo knew his task, and tore out of the parkinglot in Scully's car. The three men climbed into the sedan, and sped off in the opposite direction. Needing to hold her son just then, she dialed her boss's cellphone, knowing he could give her a lift home. With quiet heaviness, she barely waited for Skinner to reply. "Sir, I've lost them..." "The Gunmen covertly received blood samples from Mulder and Agent Starkweather that showed a good match. From everything I've found in the last two days, Starkweather IS the connection..." "Scully, I think you need to talk to more adults than the Gunmen and Mulder." Skinner finished. "Don't you get it? Sir...Leo's target is Starkweather." Skinner sighed defeatedly and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "I need an APB out to the residence of Agent Jerilyn Starkweather. 1121 Spotnitz St, 48 Constitution Plaza Apartments to apprehend suspect Justin Leo. He is considered to be armed and dangerous, possibly under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug, male, 33..." He wanted to fit more of the case together, he still wanted to know where the proof was that Starkweather, Leo, and Mulder were all connected, but while he was busy giving out an APB, Scully had aparently taken her leave. "Sir," Skinner nodded in the general direction of his voice as he climbed into the car, "They came up empty in the trashcans except a pack of cigarettes and several butts." "What brand?" "Morleys." The agent answered quizzically. "Tell your men to clear out, we've collected all the evidence necessary." Then he dialed Scully's number. "Scully," he said not waiting for a greeting, "he's back...I dunno how but Spender is back and there's a direct connection this time with her and Marita Corruvabias." "Sir, I'm at the Starkweather's looking for more evidence." "I know Ben smoked Morleys..." Skinner began. "No...there's a fresh one in the ashtray that hasn't been smoked yet. He's leaving us a trail..." "One question I've got is what use does he have to keep Ben alive?" "I think I just found it sir..." Scully said as her eyes fell on the open scrapbook and Mulder's picture alongside a freshly smouldered Morley propped on an ashtray. On the way there, Scully recounted what had happened, and everything she had found in her investigation. She also knew that as long as Mulder and Starkweather were both alive, then Ben Starkweather would still be living. Although the Syndicate apparently gained the upperhand during her run-in at the warehouse, what CSM had to say about Jerilyn still being alive gave her hope. "Agent Reyes, I can't thank you enough for all your help." Scully said when she finally made it to her apartment. "Agent Scully," Reyes replied with a thin smile, "I wish I could do more than babysit to help you out. Hopefully Agent Starkweather and I can have a more formal introduction " "Just call if you need anything." Scully said as Reyes took her leave. "Scully," Skinner began cautiously, once they were alone in her apartment, "I want to help you, Mulder, and Will as much as my position permits, but I can't do that until you tell me what's going on." "Sir," Scully replied a little more harshly than she intended, "if what you say is true about Billy Miles, then I don't think the President of the United States can help us." "If we get to the men who have Billy Miles under control," Skinner argued, "then we can get to Mulder and Starkweather in time. All I need from you is the information you have on Justin Leo. If I can track him down, or at least the people who have him under control, then there is a good chance we can protect both Mulder and Starkweather." "Sir, with all due respect...as much as I appreciate your concern, I doubt seriously that tracking down Leo will lead to any kind of results except putting you at risk!" She hissed, careful not to wake Will. "Scully, if what you say is true about the link between Mulder and Starkweather, then it is reasonable to assume that everyone--Will, you, The Gunmen, and me--are at risk for their exposure to the truth. Besides, in my profession, I'm at risk every day of my life. All of us in this business are." "There's a difference between putting your life on the line and being stupid. With all due respect sir, I think this borders a little on the stupid side. I can't let you go out there with no back-up." "Scully," Skinner's tone was quiet and firm, "For now, there's nothing you can do but wait. I made a promise to both of you a long time ago to do what I could to protect that division. Don't ask me to break it now. Not after all we've seen. Now...we can do this the long way or the shortcut around. Either give me the address, or I will get it myself through other sources." With a heavy sigh, she handed him the notes she had taken on the evidence she had found on the man who instigated the situation at hand. "Let me know what you find out as soon as you can." "Get some sleep, Scully...you look exhausted." "You forget sir," Scully said with a wan girn, "I got less sleep before I took maternity leave being Mulder's partner...Will's less demanding." "I'll call when I can." Skinner said and turned and left, determined to get to the bottom of the pending fiasco. Skinner made his way as quickly as he could to Leo's address. He doubted the same things Scully had, but at the same time, he couldn't just sit idly by and let everything slip out of his hands. Leo's obsessed mindset had not allowed for simple cautions, such as making sure the door was locked. He found the house exactly as it's inhabitant had left it, with a bullitin board and stacks of files that were all abduction related. He went thumbed through them and found annonymous correspondence dating back from two years ago giving little tasks, such as stopping environmental case lawsuits from getting to a judge, or hampering with evidence on fraud charges. He logged his computer on, guessed the password of an obsessed man easily, and found his way through his internet history to abductee chatrooms. "These days," an old voice cracked out of the darkness, "You don't need to wish to be a fly in the wall. These little cameras make everything quite clear." "You had this residence monitored?" Skinner growled. "Of course. We had to. It is necessary sometimes to make sure an associate of ours stays on track, completes his task." "Where is Billy Miles?" He fumed. "That, I don't know. I wanted to employ that killing machine as protection against the coming invasion. I have every intention of keeping all those involved alive until they are of no use. There is another party involved here, and I'm afraid it is not my decision to make." "What isn't your decision to make?" "Whether or not we use the replicant." "Like hell it isn't." Skinner barked back. "Assistant Director, you stopped cooperating with us years ago. I know what happened to Alex Krycek. My associates and I can easily make things look so much worse than they actually are. It would be ashame to see such a distinguished career and a man's freedom go up in flames over one cause. I am not an unreasonable man. You know that I am a very powerful friend to have." "Are you trying to cut me a deal?" "Precisely. Obviously a monster running amok in the streets of our Nation's Capitol after a local hero would not bode well for the FBI. Stop Doggett's investigation into Kersh's office, and I will hand over the serum that controls the alien." "Why the hell should I take credence in any promises or bargains you make?" Skinner demanded. "People make bargains with the devil every day, Mr. Skinner. Either way, your career will be up in smoke once Agents Doggett and Reyes begin their investigation. You really have no choice but to comply." "Where's the serum?" 3:45 PM Eastern Standard Time County Jail Sam stepped into the guard's desk, "I have an appointment to see the warden at four," Sam spoke with a calm he did not feel. Frohike was talking in his ear. "You're all good buddy, Langly's already in the system, Barney Fife there should be pulling up the fake appointment..." "Special Agent Frank Black?" the guard asked. Sam nodded and flased the fake ID Langly whipped up for him. "Alrighty, have a seat." The guard waved him over to a chair. After Sam sat and pretended to peruse his notes, Starkweather walked in, wearing Byers' baggy dress slacks, white dress shirt, hanging loosing over her tank top along with Byers's suit jacket. She carried a big black purse over her shoulder. She was sipping from a gargantuan mug from some gas station. The guard looked up to see the mannishly dressed woman with the Princess Leia hair-do. "Can I help you?" he asked wearily. His day was almost over. The night crew would be there to relieve him in 25 minutes, he couldn't wait. He did not feel like dealing with this she-man. "I'm Diana Fowley, from INS," said Starkweather, holding up her fake ID. "I'm here to see Manuel Diego Ibarra." The guard checked his computer. "Ibarra don't have any appointments today." Starkweather flipped the bitch switch from off to on. "What do you mean, no appointments?" she seethed. "There was set up two weeks ago. By the Assistant DA." "Well... I suppose I could... I mean... it's just that it's getting close to the inmates suppertimes... if Ibarra don't eat with the rest, he don't eat at all and inmates get kinda cranky when they don't get to eat an-" "You think I care about Ibarra's dietary habits?" Starkweather snarled as she set the mug down on the desk with a slam. She dug in her pockets and pulled out a sugar packet. She put the packet in her mouth and opened the lid of the mug. Steam from her hot tea came out in wispy tendrils. "All I care about is getting my questions answered and then tossing his illegal ass back to El Mexico where it belongs." Just as Starkweather made that very uncharacteristic derogatory remark, Frohike said to Doggett. "We've got you bumped to twenty-five minutes. It's go time, we're in. Clock's ticking, Puppy-Man." Sam got up from his seat, confident in the knowledge that the Lone Gunmen had control of the jail's survalliance and security. "Excuse me, miss?" "WHAT????" she snapped. "I hate to interupt, but do you have the time?" Starkweather picked up the mug and threw it's boiling contents all over the guard. As the guard covered his face in real pain, Starkweather took the syringe out of her purse, already loaded with an incredibly powerful drug called Verstat. "Here's the mickey of all time, buddy-boy," Starkweather said while Sam pinned the guard's arms, Starkweather ripped apart the man's sleeve and jabbed him with the needle. "Beautiful," she murmurred as she pushed the plunger. "Verestat is a lovely, lovely drug. You feel everything, you see everything, you hear everything, but you will forget everything." Sam punched the burned man, knocking him unconscious. Starkweather was already pushing through the doors. "Alright guys, lets go get Big Brother... Frohike... FROHIKE!!!" She pushed the ear piece into her ear better. "You're breaking up. What are you saying?" "I'm saying get your asses in gear. Billy Miles is in the building." "WHAT?!" Sam cried out! <> Sam didn't know that when Leo got away from the police officer, history changed again and Mulder was killed at four, not five. He checked his watch. 3:52. Starkweather took her little Beretta out of her ankle holster and her service weapon out of her pants. "Holy jumping Aloysious God," she groaned. "Cover me," Starkweather pushed through the doors, Sam, both guns out as well, followed, running down the stairs to the basements, where they could already hear screams of terror welling up from below....... The guard felt eyes on his back. He turned around and saw a lanky man with dark brown hair and brooding eyes. "Hey," he said, friendly-like, but nonchalantly moving his hands to his MACE. After all, the guy was unarmed. "Are you lost? You're not supposed to be here without an-" A wailing scream echoed throughout the cell block. Mulder lifted his head up. "Oh damn," he muttered. Soon, amongst the screams were cries of "Get me the fuck OUTTA here!!" "It's a monster!! For the love of GOD GET US OUT!!!" "HEELLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!" "What is goin' on out there?" Manny said as he got up from his bunk and went to the bars just in time to see the guard's head bouncing along on the floor and land directly paralell to Manny's feet, his sightless eyes staring up at him, his speechless tongue lolling. "GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAARRD!!!!!!" Manny hollered, backing away from the bars. Billy Miles kicked the decapitated head aside like a soccer ball and stared at Mulder dispassionately. "Hi ya, Billy," Mulder said, not moving, hoping that maybe there might be a shred of the real Billy Miles left in that shell of a man. "What's up?" Billy grabbed a steel bar and started to twist it.... ******** Starkweather and Sam heard the pandemonium as they raced down the stairs. "Two more flights to go..." Sam panted. "HURRY THE FUCK UP!!!" Frohike was screaming, "ITS AT MULDER'S CELL!" Starkweather, as she ran down the stairs, shoved the guns in the back of her pants, grabbed the railing, vaulted over the rails and landed solidly onto the next flight of stairs going down. "STARKWEATHER!!! COME BACK!!!" Sam yelled uselessly as he ran after her. She did that trick again on the next set of stairs and found herself on Cell Block B. She pulled her guns out and saw Billy Miles pulling the bars away like string cheese. Over the din of male prisoners she raised her female voice: "HEY! BILLY BOY!!!!" Billy stopped his chore and looked straight at her. He abandoned the bars and walked straight for her. "Bring it on," she said before she started firing. Starkweather emptied her clip of her service weapon into Billy Miles' face. Blood, flesh and skull splattered the walls and bars of the cell block. Headless, the arms reached out for her while the body still walked towards her. "You're supposed to STOP after I shoot you! What part of DEAD don't you understand?" she cried as the creature kept coming forward. She whipped out the Beretta and fired into his chest, his crotch, his gut and his knees. The thing flopped over and wriggled its way towards her, flopping around like a fish out of water. "MULDER!!" she called out as she kicked at the gory mess still crawling reaching for her. "Ew ew ew," she said as she kicked away a reaching hand and quickly stepped over the dead/alive remains. She reached into her purse that she still carried and pulled out two clips and reloaded both weapons, walking backwards, looking for Mulder's cell, waiting for Doggett and watching the soggy heap of body part slowly swing itself around and start pulling itself in her direction again. "Mulder, where are you?" "Over here!" Mulder stuck an arm out of his cell. "The one where the bars are pulled away." Starkweather back-pedalled to where Mulder was being held. Mulder took one look at her braided hairdo and quipped "Hello Your Worshipfullness." Starkweather was examining the bent bars. "Han Solo you're not... my God... that thing did this?? Jesus..." she tried pulling on the bar and the bent iron bar defied her, staying stubbornly bent. She took out the skelton key that Byers fashioned for her to open the cell. "Shit... SHIT!!!! Byers!!!" she snapped into the headset. "YOUR KEY'S NOT WORKING!!" "Billy must have damaged the tumbler of the lock when he started to bend away at the bars," Byers' strained voice filled her ears. "I don't think we can get the cell door," Starkweather said, panicking a little. They had twelve minutes to get out of the jailblock before Frohike's window closed. "Can you slid through the bars?" Mulder tried, wedging his body through the bowed bars created by Billy. "Dammit," he said, "Billy has a more girlish figure than I." "Well, we wouldn't be having this problem if someone didn't sit on his ass all day and eat sunflower seeds." She grabbed his arm. "YOU! Back there, hiding under the bunk bed!" Manny, with a hang dog expression on his face, complied. "You push, I'll pull." "ARRCCKKK!!" Mulder said as his face was shoved past the bars. "Don't you have a better way of doing this?" "Sorry Pooh-bear," Starkweather snapped, "I'm fresh out of butter and I left my flame-thrower in Byers' other pants. PUSH!!" "We're not having a baby," Mulder grumbled as his torso was forced through the narrow space between the bars. "STOP STOP STOP I'M STUCK!!" he yelled out in pain when he was half-way out, his upper body, supported by Starkweather while Manny was trying to lift his legs up and out. Mulder looked down, "Starkweather..." Starkweather, burdened under Mulder's weight, looked down as well. "Oh damn," she sighed as she tried to kick away at Billy's body, only a few feet away from her. Sam made it to the bottom of the stairs and felt his stomach lurch at the sight of the moving dismembered Billy Miles slithering towards Starkweather. He could hear the inmates discussing pleasantly amongst themselves: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING!!! WHAT THE FUCK MAN!!!" Sam took out Doggett's gun and ran towards Starkweather, unloaded it into Billy's back, severing the back bone. Billy stopped moving. "Doggett!" Starkweather said, "help me," she started pulling on Mulder again. Sam came around to the other side of Mulder. "Hold on, his suit's stuck," Sam pulled on a wad of clothing that had become impaled on a piece of metal. "No time for that," Starkweather pulled a pocketknife out of her pocket and both anyone could freak out or protest, slit away at Mulder's jumpsuit. "Doggett, help me pull him out of his suit," she ordered as orange material fell away from Mulder. Together, Sam and Starkweahter pulled Mulder free, leaving him to stand in the cell block hallway in his skivvies. "Didn't know you were a whitie-tightie man," Starkweather deadpanned. "They took away my boxers." Manny, being far more slender than Mulder, hopped through the bars easily. "Let's get out of here." "Oh no," Starkweather pointed her gun at Manny. "Get your law-breaking ass back in that cell." "We can't leave him here," Mulder protested. "Mulder, I am already sticking my neck out for your sorry ass, I can probably kiss my job goodbye for freeing you, I am not going to add releasing a possible felon to my new rap sheet!" "Um, I just snuck into the county without a green card," Manny interjected. "If we leave him here with no protection, he's going to get killed! We can't leave him you egotisical, self-righteous bitch!" "Guys," Frohike broke into their fight through Sam and Starkweather's earpieces, "You've got seven minutes to get out before the window closes." "BITCH!!!" She fumed. "Listen, you spineless, delusional, arrogant ASSHOLE, I wouldn't be in this situation if your monumental STUPIDITY on the oil righ hadn't gotten my husband sucked into this insani-" "Starkweather," Sam interrupted warily, pointing his gun down at Billy's remains. Starkweather looked down. Her eyes widened as Billy's body parts were slowly coming together. "You," she grabbed Manny by the collar of his jumpsuit and yanked him over to Doggett. "Go with him. You're with me, come on," she slapped her Beretta in Mulder's hand and pushed him towards the door... Starkweather pushed Mulder into the nearest restroom while Doggett and Manny kept running up the stairs. "What are you doing?" Mulder fumed. "Trust me," Starkweather said as she unloosened her tie. Meanwhile, Sam stopped Manny to slap handcuffs on him. Manny wailed "What are you doing???" "Trust me," Sam said gruffly. Meanwhile... back at the County Jail... The Front Guard Room - The guard that Starkweather burned and drugged was slowly coming too. He looked up and saw the last thing he remembered, which was that FBI agent...Frank Black, looming over him. "It's okay, it's okay..." the agent was saying. The guard was suddenly aware that he was in acute pain. He tried to speak but his lips were burned. Sam-in-Doggett-posing-as-Agent-Frank-Black told him, "I've called the paramediacs. You were attacked, your burns are superficial but very painfull. I've caught the guy who came after you and I'm taking him to a pyscheatric facility. Meanwhile Manny was sitting on a bench, still handcuffed was wailing, "I didn't DO it!!!! I swear!!!!" Frohike told the agents through their earpieces, "Okay, the window's shut. Normal security and video survelliance is goin' on. Stay cool." Back down in the bathroom, Starkweather shrugged off the bulky black purse she was carrying. She stripped off the suit jacket, pants, dress blouse and tie she was wearing, leaving her in nothing but a skin-tight tank-top and the Lara Croft khakis shorts Langly had gotten her. "Get dressed," she ordered him as she pulled out a pair of black socks and shoes for Mulder. While Mulder dressed, she also took out a can of aerosol hair coloring used primarily during Halloween, a pair of glasses, spirit gum and a brown- fading-to-gray fake beard and moustache. Once Mulder was more or less dressed, she dabbed spirit gum on his face and applied the beard and moustache. Quickly she sprayed his hair with the coloring, streaking his brown hair with gray. "Put these on," she said, handing him the glasses as she crotched down again to put Mulder's disguise material back in her back and to take out her own camoflauge, a pair of stylish sunglasses Starkweather normally would never wear and a white hankerchief she folded quickly into a triangle. Quickly, she took the hairpins out one by one until the braids flopped down her back. She tied the hankerchief around her head and put the sunglasses on. Standing next to a suddenly aged-Mulder, she looked like his teenaged daughter. As she put her gun in her purse, Mulder asked "And how do you plan on getting past the metal detectors?" "Like, chill out dad," she said snidely. "Langly's gonna infect this place with a very obvious computer virus which is going to wreak hell on their system." "How?" "All the doors to the Cell Block B are going to open. The guards will be so busy, plus with the police that will be coming with the paramedics for the guard that I um... roughed up, they'll be so busy, they won't pay mind to us. Plus, while they're wondering why there's no footage of the guard being injured, they'll assume it's the same virus that caused the computer to think the cell block doors need to be opened." "You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Before Starkweather could snap back at him, Frohike told her, "Virus is in, get your asses out of there." Mulder and Starkweather could hear the slam of doors opening below. They crept out of the bathroom and as casually as possible, got onto the elevator to go above... Meanwhile... The upstairs was total bedlam. As the police sirens howled in the distance, Sam administered first aid while the minimal security staff ran around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to round up the prisoners who were suddenly free. Fortunately, only severe misdeamers and "special" cases like the Deputy Mayor were kept at the County, so there really wasn't much of a threat. Most of the criminals, after watching Billy rebuild himself, were far too terrified to move out of their cells. Sam quietly stole away, taking Manny with him. The Lone Gunmenmobile was parked right across the street next to a police paddy wagon. It was perfect, it appeared to onlookers that Sam-in-Doggett was leading a prisoner to be transferred to a different prison. Instead, the doors to the Gunmenmobile opened up and Sam tossed Manny inside before he hopped in. The Gunmenmobile stole away, driving to Starkweather's and Mulder's meeting point.... Meanwhile... Mulder couldn't believe it, he and his "daughter" were being personally escorted out by a police officer. When the elevator stopped at the first floor, it was total chaos. The cop didn't even look at him that closely, he just grabbed Mulder by the arm and said "Sir, you and your daughter need to evacuate immediately." And when the metal detector went off, the cop didn't even flinch, he just assumed it was his own weapons setting off the alarms. And Mulder and Starkweather hurried away from the crime scene virtually undetected. The van was waiting for them and they hopped into it's cramped security. It was too easy... Or it would have been, if Billy Miles hadn't seen them leave. Frohike was driving, Sam-in-Doggett was in the passenger seat. Crammed in the back, Langly was high- fiving everyone he could reach. Byers, Manny and Mulder were scootched in together on a bench, Starkweather was watching out the back window. "We DID it! We freakin' DID it MAN!!" Langly crowed. "Mulder, dude, can you believe this? You are totally a free man!" "I'm a man totally on the lamb you mean," Mulder corrected him dryly. "And what's with the bikes?" He rested his palms on Ben's Suzuki, which was leaning into his knees. "Well, the game plan is that we are going to go our separate ways and meet at the round-a-view point so we can start the search for Mr. Starkweather. As for your status, we plan on telling the authorities that you voluntarily surrendered to Agents Doggett and Starkweather and hence in federal custody." Byers informed him, "Once we find Mr. Starkweather, all charges SHOULD be dropped, isn't that correct, Mrs. Starkweather?" But Starkweather wasn't listening, she was watching too intently outside the window. "Mrs. Starkweather?" Meanwhile Sam was pondering <> His reverie was broken by Starkweather's voice. "Doggett. Frohike." "Yeah?" Sam and Frohike unintentionally said in unison. Starkweather pointed out the window. "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Frohike looked into his rearview mirror. "Shit," he muttered as he saw Billy Miles weaving in and out of cars in the heavy DC rush hour traffic. "Lock and load boys." "You guys carry guns now?" Mulder said incredulously. "I feel safer with Billy." "He means get wired up," Langly said as he hooked up his ear piece. "We might get separated faster than we thoug-." "FUCK ME!!!" Starkweather interrupted, pulling her gun out, "WHERE DID HE GO!!!" Then there was the sickening sound of a thud on the roof of the van. "Oh crap," Frohike said. "BRAKE BRAKE BRAKE!!!!" Starkweather screamed. "SLAM ON THE FUCKING BRAKES FROHIKE!!!" "Hang on!" Frohike stomped on the pedal and watched Billy go flying into the next car ahead. Then the car behind them rear-ended them and everyone went sprawling. Starkweather's gun went sailing out of her hands. Byers and Manny knocked heads. Mulder grabbed his knees in real pain after the bikes scraped past him. Sam gasped for breath as the seat belt choked him. Langly groped for the glasses that flew off his face and found Starkweather's gun instead. "Here," he handed it Mulder. Mulder handed it off to Starkweather as she reached for it while asking "WHERE'D HE GO?" Billy just then lifted his mangled body off of the Volvo he landed on. As horns honked frantically, he leapt off the smushed car and onto the hood of the van. Sam looked death in the eyes and ducked just in time before Billy smashed the glass of the windshield in. Sam-in-Doggett, Frohike met up with Langly, Byers and Manny at the Lone Gunman's secret lair. "Where's Starkweather and Mulder?" Sam demanded as Langly, Byers and Manny got off of the sputtering moped. "We don't know," Byers said. "I could not hail them on the cell phone." "Oh God," Sam muttered as he dialled Starkweather's extension. "You guys," he said, pointed at the Lone Gunmen and Manny. "Get to work on figuring out where they might be keeping Ben. And for God sakes, somebody get a hold of Scully." That had been scaring him all day. He had not heard a peep from Scully all day.... or Al come to think of it. <> Sam wondered as Starkweather's cell rang. <> "Pick up," Sam said aloud, dreading the worst. "Pick up pick up...." ******** Starkweather couldn't even hear her own phone ringing, the roar of the construction trucks around deafened her completely. With Mulder clutching her for dear life, she used her husband's prized motorcycle as a Motor Cross dirt bike, whipping around road block signs as fast as she could. Billy was still gaining on them. Mulder, meanwhile, had Starkweather's long braids repeatedly hit him in the face over and over. At the speed they were going, the thick cables of hair stung his cheeks like bullwhips. He could hardly hold his head up. He could hear the honks from the annoyed drivers of the dump trucks and road graders trying to do their jobs. Mulder and Starkweather gained a moments advantage when a dump truck pulled right in front of Billy's truck that turned into an enormous fireball when the truck plowed right into it. Starkweather wheeled the bike around in a perfect one-eighty, throwing gravel everywhere. "Oh my God!" she cried out as the driver bailed out of the dump, on fire. His co-workers ran to his aid. "I've got to help that man," Starkweather started to get off the bike, but Mulder pushed her back down. "Starkweather, we've got to go." Starkweather turned and said ferociously to him, "Mulder you piece of sh*t, that man is injured and it's our fault. Besides, that thing could not have survived that!" She turned to point at the flaming trucks and gasped in horror. Inside the flames was a lean man, walking calming towards them. Like Shadrach in the furnace, Billy walked inside the roaring fires towards them, perfectly calm despite the face that his flesh was melting off his bones from the heat of the flames roasting his hair and clothes. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!" Starkweather wheeled the bike around and took off, without looking back. Mulder barely had a chance to grab onto her again, but he did manage to yell in her ear "TOLD YOU SO." "BITE ME-" Starkweather started to say but instead suddenly applied the breaks. The bike screeched and toppled over, sliding away. Mulder fell off and rolled but Starkweather held onto the handle bars, grimacing in pain as the road tore up her bare leg on the outside and the muffler burning the same leg on the inside. Despite the agonizing pain, she clung to the bike so it wouldn't go over the edge of the bridge that the road crew was working to hard to repair. Bruised, but not broken and on the first adrenline high since he left the X-Files, Mulder picked himself up and ran to Starkweather and helped her pulled up bike up and parked it safely on the edge. He then examined her wounds. Tears stood in her eyes but did not brim over. Through clenched teeth, she told him. "I'm fine." Her leg on the side that the road was completely scraped up, bits of glass and gravel lodged into her skin. That same leg had a huge burn mark on the inside of her calf where the muffler had landed on. Mulder helped her up. Starkweather tried to stand but her knee buckled. She collapsed against him. Mulder supported her by her elbows. He looked towards the billowing smoke from the fire and said. "Damn." "What?" Starkweather turned her head. "DAMMIT!!!" she screamed at Billy approaching them in the distance, skin completely burned away, hair still on fire. "DIE!!!!!!!!!!" Mulder picked Starkweather and put her on the motorcycle. He got on and revved up the engine. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "What are you doing?" "Hang on, close your eyes and pray," Mulder said as he spun the bike around, driving towards Billy. Starkweather squeezed her eyes tightly shut as Mulder got some distance from the edge of the broken bridge. Meanwhile, Mulder was doing some quick math in his head. <> Less than fifteen feet from Billy, Mulder swerved around and started back towards the bridge, speeding up. Starkweather, eyes still closed, heard the engine continually shifting gears, tightened her arm around Mulder's waist even more and buried her face into his back. Billy started to run after them, unbelievably almost keeping up with the Suzuki... The edge loomed. Mulder gunned the engine and pulled up on the handlebars and the motorcycle was airborne. Less than fifteen feet from Billy, Mulder swerved around and started back towards the bridge, speeding up. Starkweather, eyes still closed, heard the engine continually shifting gears, tightened her arm around Mulder's waist even more and buried her face into his back. Billy started to run after them, unbelievably almost keeping up with the Suzuki... The edge loomed. Mulder gunned the engine and pulled up on the handle bars and the motorcycle was airborne. Actually, the gap in the bridge was only about seven feet but it was straight down to the mix- master right below, roaring with speeding vehicles. And seven feet is seven feet. Fortunately, at the speed Mulder was going, he ramped the gap quite easily and the two tires touched down on the other side. Mulder let off of the gas and the bike rolled to a stop. He wheeled it around again. Starkweather opened her eyes and peered around Mulder's body just in time to see Billy Miles jump off the edge of the bridge towards them, like Agent Smith in "The Matrix." The only different, Billy missing and went spiralling down into traffic where he was run over by a Pinto. Starkweather heaved a big sigh of relief. "I didn't know you could do stunts," she said. She didn't see Mulder's face which was stark white and beaded with nervous perspiration. "Neither did I," he mumbled as he started up the bike again and headed towards the Lone Gunmen hideaway. Meanwhile, at the Lone GunmenLair *********************** Sam was having certain doubts about letting Frohike drive Doggett's truck back with Manny in tow, but Sam wasn't about to do the navigating, being unfamiliar with the DC area and needing desperately to get in touch with Scully or Skinner. After nearly missing a couple of cars and sideswiping a curb and putting a nice pole-shaped dent in the side of Doggett's F150, Sam neglected getting in touch with Skinner or Scully or any fo them till after they got to the lair...just in case final prayers suddenly became necessary. Manny next to him was more vocal about the situation, screaming choice Spanish explicatives. If they hadn't been so nervous about the situation at hand, both men would have kissed the ground when they finally arrived at the lair. "That's it, hombre...next time I'm drivin'." Manny declared. "Frohike," Sam began shakily with his face as white as a sheet once they finally got the lair, "Where did you get your lisence?" "We rigged one for him here, Doggett." Byers began apologetically, giving Frohike a dirty look. "Well you were gonna drive like an old lady, and we would've been stuck in ass-to-ass traffic jams and we would've been S.O.L. if it weren't for my skillfull offensive driving techniques." "Your skillfull offensive driving techniques almost made us tortillas!" Manny yelled. Then he turned to Byers and Langly, "any you guys got a phone I could use per favor?" To which Langly responded by opening a drawerful of wireless phones and cranking up about five of the desktops that weren't in use at the moment. "Take your pic, man." "Gracias." Manny said quietly, picked one from the drawer, and dialed. "Local call...I know people." Then he began rattling off a spanish conversation, pausing briefly for a response. "I understood mi amigo" Langley murmured "I heard Mulder in their somewhere I think." Sam, fluent in Spanish, would have been able to understand what he was saying very well, didn't hear any of the conversation because he was outside relaying what had happened to Skinner. "Guys, something on the squawker." Frohike said quietly, now frantically keying in the local news channell websites. "Trafficjam on the freeway." "WHAT THE F*CK JUST HIT ME?! WHAT THE F*CK JUST HIT ME?!" A trucker screamed across the CB waves. "That's our boy." Langley mumbled. "Oh sh*t!" A scratchy voice came over the police radio the gunmen had hooked up and turned on in their warehouse. "It's like outta that Terminator movie..." "I'm checking the CB." Byers informed his comrades, and began hooking it up, putting the headphones. "I hate to break to you buddy, but this ain't no movie." A female's voice scratched back. SWEET JESUS WHAT THE F*CK IS THAT?!" "There's a Suzuki...a blonde chick's drivin'...with some old guy...that Ford Truck's chasing it" "This can't be good." was Manny's grim prognosis. Frohike went back into a room and got out a bottle of Wild Turkey Burbon and downed a shot's worth. Just as Frohike pulled Doggett's sadly abused truck next to the Lone Gunmen lair, Starkweather and Mulder pulled into the lot, Mulder driving, Starkweather clinging to him like the toy clip-on koalas that were so popular in the early eighties. Both were white as ghosts. "Mulder!" Frohike cried out as he ambled out of the truck and scurried to him, Manny and Sam-in-Doggett following. Mulder lifted Starkweather off the bike, Starkweather wincing in pain, clenching her teeth. "Hide the motorcycle," he instructed to no one in particular. "About every cop in a twenty mile radius is looking for it right now." Frohike took the initiative and wheeled the bike inside the lair. Sam only had eyes for Starkweather at them moment. "What happened?" he said, urgency tinging his voice. Then he looked down at her leg and saw the massive abrasions. "Oh boy," Sam said in horror. "Starkweather...." "Mulder," Starkweather tugged on his sleeve. "You need to get inside. You're a fugitive now." "Been there, done that," Mulder muttered as he carried her inside, Sam and Manny following. Mulder began barking orders the minute Frohike locked the door. "Langly, find some clean, emphasize on CLEAN sheets and lay them across the table and a pillow. Byers, I need a pair of tweezers, cotton pads, ACE bandages and sterilizing solution: iodine, alcohol, hydrogen perioxide, anything that will kill the germs." After Frohike cleared a table with the sweep of his arm and Langly threw a sheet over it and positioned a pillow just so, Mulder put her down. Starkweather closed her eyes. "God knows, I've have Scully piece me back together enough times, I think I can handle this," Mulder said to Sam as he referred to her scrapes and contusions. "I don't know about this," he moved her injured leg just enough for Sam to see the blistering burn on the inside of her leg. "Oh my God," Sam said in horror. "Mulder, that's at least second-degree. We need to get her to a hospital." "Or at least a doctor," Mulder said. "Call Scully." When his request was met with dead silence, Mulder asked. "Why is no one picking up the phone?" Starkweather raised herself up on her elbows. "Because," she said wearily, "we haven't been able to get in touch with her since last night." Sam was quick to reassure him, "William is fine, he's safe, he's been guarded by Skinner and Reyes the entire time this mess began. I'm sure Scully is safe," Sam hoped he sounded more positive than he felt. "We would have heard if she wasn't." "Besides," Starkweather's dry voice cut into the conversation, "you have bigger problems than the whereabouts of Scully right now." Mulder and Sam both turned around. Starkweather was aiming her gun at Mulder. She ju "Oh crap," Frohike said as Langly and Byers froze. Manny said something in Spanish that sounded suspiciously sacriligious. "Starkweather," Sam said slowly, "what are you doing?" Despite her injuries, Starkweather managed to sit up, face Mulder and hold her gun in the perfect FBI grip, aiming right between the eyes, point blank range. If she chose to fire, **if she chose to fire**, no vaccine would bring him back from the grave this time. "Starkweather, you don't want to do this," Sam said, inching towards her, prepared to wrest the gun from her hand... again. <> Sam thought as beads of perspiration collected on his forehead. "Doggett, shut up," Starkweather said pleasantly enough. She tilted her head and looked at Mulder straight in the eye. "Did you kill my husband." Mulder, who had been completely unruffled the entire time said without batting an eye "No." "Do you believe he's still alive?" "Yes." "Will you help us find him?" "I would even if there wasn't a gun pointed at me," Mulder said in his monotone at its most nettlesome. Starkweather gritted her teeth, put her weapon back on safety, set it down beside her, and fainted. Sam released a sigh of relief. Mulder turned to him and said, the tiniest hints of surprise and rebuke coloring his voice, "You didn't really think she was going to fire... did you?" Sam looked at Mulder in shock. "She has been on the Emotional Rollercoaster from Hell, Mulder," Sam snapped on him. "I'm surprised she didn't fire on me as well." <> Mulder shook his head. "She's in shock from her injuries. Starkweather's hot headed, but she'll be fine once we get her stabilized." he said, coming to her and taking the gun away, hitting the button with released the clip. A full cache of bullets landed in his hands. He handed them to Sam. "Still," the mischievious twinkle was back in his eyes, "better treat her like Barney Fife for a while." He walked away, whistling under his breath as he went to scrounge with Byers for more medical supplies. Sam folded his lips tight. <> he thought... although... deep down, he knew Mulder was right. She would have never fired, she was only trying to rattle him... and failed utterly. Sam went up to Starkweather and stroked her hair. "Hang in there, Doc," he said softly. "We can see the light at the end of the tunnel now..." Mulder propped Starkweather's injured leg on top of a pillow. Miraculously, Byers found a first aid kit that had silverdine ointment in it, a wonderful cream used to treat serious burns. He handed the tube to Doggett and told him "You do the honors" as he sterilized the tweezers in hot water. Gingerly, Sam applied the cream to the burn on the inside of her leg. "Ben would shoot me if he saw this," he muttered. "Starkweather is going to want to shoot me for real once I start digging the gravel out," Mulder said as he used tongs to fish out the hot tweezers and set them on the table to let them cool before he went to work. "HOW did you know she wasn't going to shoot you???" Sam burst out. Mulder shrugged. "She wanted to get my attention. She got it." "But you weren't worried?" "No." The Gunmen in the back were cooking on something on their computers. Sam only hoped that it was about the case. "WHY does she... um," Sam tried to pose his question delicately as he finished applying the salve and went around the table to assist Mulder in his dreaded task. "Hate my guts?" Mulder finished Sam's sentence for him. "Well... when I was young and stupid, I had gotten a lead about an abductee named Lynnette Malone. She was a multiple abductee until she turned nineteen an married a fine young sailor in the Navy. The source that tipped me off said there was something very special about Miss Malone that would affect me personally. Of course, I assumed she had information about Samantha. I took the address and flew out there like a bat out of hell. Unfortunately, my source failed to tell me that Miss Malone was now Mrs. Bailey and was dying of cancer, leaving behind a husband and a sixteen year old daughter." "Starkweather," Sam said, under his breath. "Mrs. Bailey was perfectly lucid when I met with her and we chatted for a good ten minutes before I started my questions. Even in the beginning of my interview, she opened up just the tiniest bit, but..." Mulder shook his head as he readied the tweezers. "Mrs. Bailey was suffering from a rare type of brain cancer, rare in most people, but common in women who have been abducted, tested and made sterile due to the tests. Scully nearly died of the same cancer," Mulder looked at Starkweather. "Good thing she passed out, this is going to hurt like a b*tch." Mulder pulled the first piece of gravel out of her leg. Starkweather flinched, but didn't wake up. "Anyway, Mrs. Bailey was in the final stages of the cancer and her lucidity was slipping away. She became frightened, disorientated. Instead of calling the nurse, I pressed on, hoping that she'd come back from the hell the tumors were creating for her just to breath to me the secret I was convinced she held that would help me find my sister. Little did I know that Starkweather had been outside, listening in on every word. Her mother completely collapsed the next day, slipped into a coma and passed away. Starkweather never forgave me for not letting her mother have a peaceful death, and I never forgave myself." Mulder sighed as he continued to pick out the gravel. "And the irony was, after all these years, my source WAS correct. Mrs. Bailey did have something that was intensely personally to me. She was raising my father's daughter." Startled, Sam stared at Mulder. "How did you know that?" he asked cautiously. Mulder looked up at Sam, a wicked twinkle in his hazel eyes, "Because," he said lowly, "Al told me, Sam." Sam exhaled. He had forgotten that he had deployed Al to Mulder's cell to tell him the happy news. Where the hell was Al anyway? "I'm not going to say anything," Mulder continued to speak sotto voce. "You don't need to be added to their online newsletter," he subtly nodded his head towards the Gunmen. Sam, meanwhile was watching Starkweather, "She's waking up," Sam warned Mulder. "Damn," Mulder muttered, trying to pull out a very difficult shard of glass that refused to budge. "Could you bludgeon her with a heavy object so she'll stay unconscious for at least five more minutes? I'm almost done." "I heard that," Starkweather opened her eyes. "Help me up," Starkweather asked Sam. "I wanna see what Dr. Frankenstein's doing to me." Mulder didn't even look at her, "It's alive, it's alive," he said in his monotone. "Starkweather, if there's something to hold on to or bite on, do it, because, of course since I don't hold a degree in medicine, I'm making an assumption, but this is going to hurt. A lot." "Joy." Starkweather said as she gripped Doggett's wrists. "Bliss." She took a deep breath. "If it's glass, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but pull it out slow. I would be slightly on the unhappy side if it broke and a chunk of glass was still in my leg." "They look to be mostly flesh wounds though," Mulder said, "Okay, count of three," Starkweather looked away, "One- two- deep breath- THREE," and Mulder pulled the last stubborn piece of glass out of her leg. Starkweather's nails dug into Sam-in-Doggett's wrists and tried to hold in the whimpering sounds. "Okay," Mulder held up the glass. "it's out." "How much left to do?" Starkweather leaned forward to examine her own leg. "My God..." she muttered. "Gives all new meaning to the phrase 'That's gonna leave a mark.'" The doctor bent forward as far as she could to continue her topical exam. "I think you got most of it, though. There's a few big pieces of gravel that should come out, but anything else will probably work its way out in time." She leaned back into Sam's belly. "Let's get it over with." So Mulder was back to work. By the time he was done, tears were steaming down her face. "I didn't mean to hurt you," Mulder said. Sam caught the double-meaning. He wondered if Starkweather did. "I know, I know," Starkweather, feeling like a bawl baby and hated it, sucked it up and dashed away the childish tears with a flick of the hand. She watched Mulder put a sterile cotton pad on her burn and then using clean cotton bandages, started to wrap her up. "So..." she said wearily, accepting the glass of cool water Langly brought her. "What's the master plan of getting Ben out of this clusterf*ck." Both Mulder and Doggett looked at her in shock. Starkweather opened one eye and said airly "You boys didn't dream for one second you were going to cut me out of the action, did you?" Stammering, Sam said "Your leg..." "Doggett, obvisiously I never told you about my motorcycle accident I had when I was stationed at Whiteman AFB in Missouri. Made this one look like a kiss of a ladybug. I was almost given a medical disability discharge." She sighed. "That might be Ben's bike, but I was the one who taught him how to ride." Mulder and Doggett believed her. "Well-" Mulder was about to launch into one of his profoundly weird but almost always eeriely correct theories when Byers interrupted. "There's someone at the door," Byers said, looking through the peep hole, "Someone," Byers looked at Mulder, "you probably have been waiting to see." He undid the many locks and in walk Special Agent Dana Scully, carrying a sleeping Willi Mulder crossed over to her. Typical of their extremely private, personal relationship, Mulder only put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead, then kissed the baby. Old habits die hard. Or maybe he was actually being considerate of Frohike's feelings for once, since the truculent little man still carried quite the torch for her. Scully only closed her eyes in relief that Mulder was out of harms way. She did shift the baby into one arm and with her free hand, reached for his, which he grabbed and interlocked his fingers with hers. "Scully," Starkweather raised a hand in greeting. " 'Sup???" "What happened to you?" Scully's eyebrows flew up in concern. "I'll live," Starkweather side-stepped her question. "Where the hell've you been?" Mulder's hand left hers and he had began to put it around her shoulders, a little more PDA that she was used, than either of them had been used to, but she welcomed it, until her shoulder reminded her that she had been shot there. "Ow," Scully folded her lips together. "What's the matter, Scully?" Mulder took Will and passed him off to Sam. "Mulder, I'm fine." she protested when he pushed away her coat and tugged at the collar of her shirt gently to try and see more of her shoulder. "Scully, when you translate those two words from Scullyese to Basic English, 'I'm fine' really means 'Something bad has happened, but I'm going to lie my ass off about it because I don't want to worry anyone about it.'" He pulled Scully aside, glared at everyone else. Everyone else scurried off and became really interested in whatever task they had been working on. Except for Starkweather, she just laid back down and started to count the cracks in the ceiling. "Scully," Mulder scolded her. "We've been through too much already for you to start this 'I'm fine' bs again. What happened? Why is your shoulder bandaged like that?" Scully sighed. He was not going to take this well. "Mulder, I was shot at yesterday." She saw his eyes change from the warm golden hazel to that strange honey-green color whenever he was enraged. "Who?" "Marita Covarrubias. She's involved with this. But I AM fine, Mulder. It was a flesh wound. The worst that it did was ruin another blazer." She tugged at his hand. "Mulder, listen to me. There isn't time for this. I've discovered some new information that clear your name completely and blow this case wide open. I need to tell you and Agent Doggett and Agent Starkweather what's going on. I saw Ben, with my own eyes. He's alive. But unless we do something soon, I don't know how much longer he'll stay alive. I need to brief you and the others. Immediately," Scully insisted. Mulder's eyes never left her face. "Why did you bring Boo here?" Scully dropped her eyes to her shoes. "Something must have happened if you did not feel secure enough to leave him with a sitter." Now Scully's eyes teared up and Mulder hated himself for it. He had woken up many a night in a cold sweat because of very real fears of William's safety. For as long as he had known her, Scully had always been a meticulous agent. Harm has never fallen on anyone because of irresponsibility on her behalf. Whatever Scully had stumbled upon must have been big, big enough into scaring her to collect Will and flee to the Gunmen strong hold. "It's okay," Mulder said, discreetly kissing her cheek, taking her hand again. "Just tell us what happened." So they rejoined the group. Byers got a chair for Scully and then got a chair for himself. Manny came up to the group apprehensively and hovered on the fringe. Frohike stayed at his computer. Langly leaned against a table, next to Starkweather, who had sat up and swung her legs over the edge so they were dangling. Sam gave Will to Mulder and flanked Starkweather on her other side. Mulder stood behind Scully, prepared to memorize every word. They all were. Scully took a breath, "Agent Starkweather, as of three hours ago, I can confirm that Ben is still alive." Now Starkweather took a breath. She fiddled with her wedding ring. "Tell me." So Scully started to recant her tale of the past day's events. Back to the Future...right after he left 37C *********************************************** Al came storming through the chamber door, livid. "Dammit Goushie! I don't care if I hafta sell my soul to do it, GET ME BACK THERE!" "I-I-I would if I could, Admiral...but that's a bit difficult right now. Ziggy's gotta glitch and I haven't figured out where it is. Is the handlink uh...up and running?" Goushie stammerred. "You know," Al ranted, "you'd think with a time machine, we'd have all the time in the world on our hands...but tonight, things could get very very bad very very fast if I don't get to Sam NOW!" "The handlink, admiral...is it running?" Goushie persisted. Al looked down and only nodded. Then he stormed into the waiting room, and saw Doggett sedated and unconscious. "Damn stupid marine." He mumbled, accentuating each word with a bang of his head against the plexi-glass. "Verbeena," Al growled as soon as the psychologist was in view, "please tell me he's just taking a little snooze." "He's just taking a little snooze..." under Al's scrutinizing glare, she revised her statement, "...with the help of some ethanol." Dr. Beeks returned with flat caution. When Al's glare persisted, she added hastily, "You gave me orders to sedate him if he became violent again...and he did. I had no choice in that." "Verbeena...I don't care if you hafta pump black coffee through him intravenously...I need what he knows. We've got a situation back there." "Al," Dr. Beeks interrupted firmly. "If Goushie can't even get you back there, what good his Agent Doggett's information going to be to you until then?" "Admiral..." Goushie began cautiously, "I'm afraid...you're gonna hafta sit tight here for a while. We've got a corrupted component that we won't be able to have replaced till morning. Besides...I know you're exhausted...I think a night's sleep will do you good." "Is there any way you can get the imaging chamber and the handlink to coordinate without that component?" "Yes, but there are several possibilities if you do make contact with Dr. Becket." "They are?" "Either you or Dr. Becket will be unable to retain either visual or auditory links, or everyone in the world will be able to see you, or you might have trouble with the handlink." "Goushie..." Al returned, eyes widening in alarm, "I think there's already been a glitch in the handlink...now there's a report of what looks like from the article, Billy Miles, chasing Diana Fowley and...CBG Spender? on a Kawasaki...at rush hour? Goush...I don't think folks 'll be too spooked by me walking through walls if that ain't a tabloid heading." "I'll do what I can to get you back there." Goushie promised, and scurried back to the console. Al went back to his apartment...but he doubted he'd be sleeping much. LGM lair ******** "Mulder," Scully began with a sharp, cautious sigh, "I can also confirm that as of six hours ago Spender is alive too." Mulder slammed his fist down on the make-shift computer desks. "So that's why you had to bring him here...he's going after you and William to get through me..." his voice was shaking now, "GodDAMMIT I can't let that happen! Starkweather...as soon as he finds out our connection, he'll get to you too." "An old man dying of emphaszema smoking a cigarette..." Starkweather deadpanned, "Oooooh...scary...now I'll sleep with the lights on with that mental picture." "Frohike," Mulder mumbled only loud enough for him to hear, "hop online and see what you can do about hacking me a plane reservation..." Mulder began shakily. "Mulder..." completely hammered by this point, and glancing wide-eyed and white-faced over at Scully, "if I get you the plane tix, promise me she's not gonna blow my ass to kingdom come." "Starkweather," Sam warned, "That old man is probably responsible for that leg...don't write him off so fast..." "Langly, please..." Mulder hissed cuatiously so as not to wake up William, "get me a fake birth certificate, SSN, and ID...Scully...if he's using you and Will to get to me, we'll be dodging Billy Miles all our lives, that's not fair to either you or him...I can't let that happen." "Mulder, just what do you think your doing?" Sam hissed adamantly, "after all me, Scully, everybody went through to make sure your kid has a father around, I sure as hell am not going to sit by and let you run." "Doggett," Scully scowled, eyebrow raised and jaw clinched "let me handle this," then she seethed towards Mulder, "Mulder, You think for one minute he's not going to try to get to me through you or William, too? That terrifies me...every damn day I wake up in the morning with that fear...but what kind of lesson is that to teach him? To run from everything lurking in the shadow? You really want him to grow up resenting you the way you resented your father?" "Scully," now Mulder's jaw was furiously clinched and his own voice was raspy, if everyone hadn't been there to witness their conversation, "I'm a fugitive now...not only from Spender, but from the law. If I stay, I'm a threat to you and him. What do you think he'll resent me more for? Making him afraid for his life and yours every day he lives or my abscence?" "Saved by the bell, man." Langly nasalled. "That same trenchcoat I saw walking away that night" Then he looked in to see a woman holding gun at the cameras "...oh shit. Boys...we've got company." His Adam'sapple bobbed up and down as he unlocked the deadbolts one by one. He opened the door, and heard the c*ck of a gun. Sam drew out Doggett's government-issued clipper. Marita emerged in the doorway with Scully's FBI- issued .32 calliber pistol at Langly's head." "I am NEVER answering the door again, man." Langely wavered. "Go ahead, kill 'im...he's annoying as hell..." Frohike grumbled. "Relax," Marita purred, "I'm only using the gun for persuasion. I need your help as much as you need mine." "I don't know who the hell you are," Sam growled, getting his own FBI issued gun out of its holster, "we've got our own persuasions, too." "You don't belong here, do you?" Marita mused in Sam's direction. Sam tried not to make it obvious that she was right. "Agent Scully, to show I'm here with good intentions, here's your weapon." She said, giving the gun to Scully. "Sorry about the bullet wound, I had no choice in the matter. I am a desperate woman." "You almost killed me." Scully hisssed. "Agent Scully, I'm a better shot than that. If I wanted to kill you, I would have." Marita spat back. "You're not exactly what I'd call a Mother Teresa." Starkweather mumbled under her breath. "Marita, if you're here to help us, then why did you send a lawyer to frame me?" Mulder demanded. "Yes, that was my doing..." Marita answered with a ragged breath, "but it was for your protection. It was the only place I could insure that you'd be safe. I had no choice in sending the replicant to your cell. The old man doesn't see things the way I do. He thinks that your dynasty should be destroyed while there is still time." "Why protect me?" He mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "You and your family," she said, glancing at Will and Starkweather, "are the only thing keeping this planet from colonization." "So what, I get to save the world?" Starkweather smirked. "Neato." She finished dryly. "This isn't her fight," Mulder began but Starkweather stopped him in midthought. "Look, Big Brother," Starkweather spat back, "Thanks for sticking up for me on the playground and all but this IS my fight too. They took my husband...the one part of my life that is anything close to f*cking normal. If he is still alive, then I'm going to make damn sure he stays that way. This is too damn personal for me to back out of now. Whether we like it or not, I'm in this as deep as you are." "If we are to succeed, we don't have much time." Marita cautioned. "I still don't get it..." Sam began, "If you're trying to take control of the Syndicate, why help us out?" "The old man thinks colonization of the blue-collar working class is the only way to save the few priveledged." Marita answered quietly, "What he doesn't get is that they won't take some of us...they'll take all of us. Destroying both Mulder and Starkweather professionally and keeping them away from the area is the only way I can do that. I've let the Old Man think I'm doing his bidding. Distract his goons by getting the lawyer out of the warehouse, and I can regain controll of the Syncidate." "How the hell do you expect us to take your word now after all the lies you've told?" Scully seethed. "What choice do you have?" She answered evenly without batting an eyelid. "I'm going to take controll of the Syndicate whether you help me or not. I can find another way. I realise my actions have been dubious...but you must realize that it's all done for what's right. I sent the replicant betting that you'd be able to defeat him. I didn't count on the regenerative properties to only be enhanced every time he's destroyed. Make your decision quickly. Ben is back in the Lincoln Street Warehouse." With that, she made her exit. "What the f*ck are we going to do..." Mulder mumbled, ragging his hand in his hair. "We sure as hell can't trust her. Like I was saying before...I think our safest bet is for me to leave..." "What she says does match up with what the detective told me last night." Scully admitted in between coos to William who was now very much awake and cranky. "I can't believe I'm saying this but...Mulder's kinda making sense here...at least about trusting her. What if it's a trap?" Sam wondered as Starkweather reached out for William who wailed at a decible level that should have broken all the computer screans exposed in the warehouse. "You wanna play target practice, kiddo?" Starkweather cooed. Frohike flashed her a dirty look and snatched him up. "Come on, kid," he grumbled, Uncle Melvin'll show you how to hack into national security." "Scully, what did you find out last night?" Scully and Mulder both glancing nervously behind them at what Frohike was doing. William was content with banging on the keyboard. "You looking for a consultant position with us, Will?" Byers said as he came out of his room in the back. "Guys, I found something on my mac you might wanna take a look at...Mulder, looks like your arresting officer is buddies with Kersh. You guys might wanna take a look at this." Frohike hurredly passed William to Starkweather like a hot potato as he ran to the room as he went to see what Byers was talking about. "Yeah, way to treat a cripple, guys!" Starkweather hollared after them all in protest. "Well Will...looks like it's you 'n me, buddy. You think the guys have survellence cameras around here?" Will's face started scrunching up again in aggrivation. "Oh come on, kiddo..." Starkweather cooed, hoisting him up so that his head was level with hers. "We're family, I'm not gonna really use you as target practice...I was just kidding. You know, if you need me to beat up your Daddy for you, I'll be happy to do that...or if you need advice about girls, I can do that too...I am one you know...your daddy took seven years to get your mommy, so he's not exactly the best person for advice in that department...or if you want a really cool toy, I'll see what I can do about negotiating with Santa Claus speed it up." She glanced nervously back towards the room to see if anyone was coming out any time soon. Then she did something thoroughly uncharacteristic. She began singing. Unlike her colleagues, her voice was actually a pleasant sound. When your down and troubled/and you need some lovin' care/and nothin', oh nothin' is going right/close your eyes and think of me/and soon I will be there/to brighten up even your darkest night You just call out my name/and you know wherever I am/I'll come runnin'to see you again/ Winter spring summer or fall/all you hafta do is call/and I'll be there you've got a friend If the sky above you/grows dark and full of clouds/and that old north wind should begin to blow/you just keep your head together/and call my name out loud/and soon, you'll hear me knockin' at your door You just call out my name/and you know where ever I am/I'll come runnin, runnin' yeah/to see you again/Winter Spring, summer or fall/all you hafta do is call/and I'll be there yes I will Now ain't it good to know that you've got a friend/when people can be so cold/they'll hurt you, yes and desert you/and take your soul if you let them/but don't you let them you just call out my name/and you know whereever I am/I'll come runnin', runnin' yeah to see you again/Winter spring, summer or fall, all you hafta do is call, and I'll be there yes will Starkweather was belting it out much to Will's delight, and Sam heard the commotion from the front room and rushed to see if Starkweather was in pain or having trouble controlling Will. He approached cautiously when he realized she was singing, and at the scene of her with her nephew, Sam wished almost bitterly that the strange dream he had had a few nights ago could be true. Starkweather was belting it out much to Will's delight, and Sam heard the commotion from the front room and rushed to see if Starkweather was in pain or having trouble controlling Will. He approached cautiously when he realized she was singing, and at the scene of her with her nephew, Sam wished almost bitterly that the strange dream he had had a few nights ago could be true. Starkweather looked up. "Doggett," she said, unabashedly. "What's up?" "You better come here," Sam said solemnly. "We're figuring out a game plan." "What's the play, Papa John?" "We're going in." "'We' as in you and Mulder or 'we' as in you, Mulder and myself?" "Starkweather, your leg-" Sam feebly protested, knowing that it was going to do no good. She scowled at him. "Here," she thrusted Will at him. Sam gingerly took the baby. She took a step back, then a step forward, going head over heels, executing a perfect cartwheel. "I'm fine. I'm in. Whether you like it or not." "Doesn't sound like we have much of a choice," Mulder's dry voice came up from behind Sam. "Here," Sam handed Will to Mulder. William, since he was a very young child, could see Sam as Sam. Not sure of strangers, Will had stared at Sam, his big eyes filled with terror, his puckered up on the verge of a cry. "What's with you, Boo?" Mulder asked Will who snuggled as close to Mulder as he could. "Byers is calling Reyes. He's giving her the information that Scully collected. That's enough for a search warrant for Justin Leo and the lovely Detective Somerset. He liked strip-searching me a little too much." Mulder droned on, absolutely straight faced. "Thanks for sharing," Starkweather quipped. "So while their privacy is being invaded, we're going on a field trip to a certain warehouse where hopefully Mr. Starkweather is still in one piece." "We're going heavily armed, correct?" Mulder crossed over to his half-sister. "This is no game, Starkweather. You saw what Billy Miles is capable of." By this point, everyone else had re- entered the room. "I know. That's why I asked if we were going to be heavily armed." Mulder folded his arms. "Why don't you be in charge of munitions?" "Does anyone have a shotgun?" When Sam and Mulder glared at her, she replied "I'm serious. Maybe it wouldn't kill him, but a hole through his gut might stall him. A bit." "I've got one," Langly ventured shyly. All turned. "What the hell are YOU doing with a shotgun?" Scully cried. Langly shrugged. "I won it in a game of D and D." "D and D??" For once, Starkweather was stumped. "Dungeons and Dragons." "Never mind..." Starkweather said. "When are we leaving?" "As soon as it's dark," Scully said. "It'll be the four of us. The Gunmen are staying behind to care for Will," she reached out to touch William's head. "What if," Starkweather said, softly now, "what if that blond bitch is lying?" "She probably is," Mulder said. "But not about Ben being dead. Not yet. We don't have a lot of time, but we've got some." "Hey Mulder?" Mulder came closer to her. "Yeah?" She reached up and tore the fake beard and moustache that he had been wearing since he left the prison. "YEOOOOOWWW!!!!" He grabbed his face in pain. Tears came to his eyes. "That's for even contemplating the possibilty of being a coward and running away," she snapped as she reached into his coat jacket and retrieving her gun. "Let's go." Meanwhile.... As she crossed the deserted intersection, Marita Covarubias adjusted her hat, a vintage scooped hat circa 1921. Not only was it trendy again, but it also hid her face nicely. Still, they managed to find her. A sleek black Toyota Supra pulled up beside her. Two men bailed out of the backseat. The same two, coincidentially, who kicked down the hotel room down and snatched Benjamin Starkweather away in the dead of night, snatched up Marita. They threw her unceremonially into the backseat. Then they got back into the car and the Supra went forward. Sandwiched between the two thugs, Marita had no choice but to sit very still. The interior of the car reeked of nicotine. The passenger up front didn't need to identify himself. But he did anyway. "You little rat," The Cancer Man pulled out another cigarette from his pack. He lit it with his little butune lighter before continuing on, never turning around to face her. "Did you learn nothing from the death of Alex Krycek?" "Alex Krycek," she seethed "was murdered by Assistant Director Walter Skinner." "I ALLOWED Krycek," he corrected her, "to be murdered by Assistant Director Walter Skinner. When Krycek became a nuisance, I lifted his protection. As I will soon to you if you don't cease this scampering about." One of the thugs pulled out a long knife. Marita tried not to look at it. Still, the Smoking Man never turned around. "What confidences did you share with the Mulders?" he asked. "Happy little family, aren't they?" "You're never going to win, old man," she informed him, still trying to hide her nervousness about the knife. "Not with your dithering." Finally the old devil turned around. "Dithering?" "Kill Mulder, don't kill Mulder. This crap has been going on since I joined the Syndicate. Time and time again we've had the chance to get rid of him. Time and time again YOU have found a reason not to do it. Even you order the hit to be made yourself, some how, you find a reason not to go through with it, even though the Old Syndicate was destoryed because of it." CSM smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. "And yet, you had the opportunity of a lifetime tonight, didn't you. To wipe them ALL out. Mulder. Agent Scully. That new fellow Doggett. And of course, Mulder's long lost little half-sister. Not quite his beloved Samantha, but she'll do." He inhaled deeply. "And you speak of such nostalgia for the Old Syndicate when the New Syndicate is so much more powerful. And YOU have so much more power and status in the New Syndicate than the Old. And yet, you went intriguing tonight. What was the point of your little adventure Marita, dear?" The thug with the knife swiftly slashed the top of her leg. It was not a deep, life-threatening cut, but it bled copiously and hurt like hell. Marita gasped and pressed her palm to her wound to stop the flow. "You wouldn't be foolish enough to share the location of Mr. Starkweather, would you?" The thug on her other side suddenly produced a knife and slashed her other leg. This cut was a bit deeper and hurt a lot more. Marita whimpered and pressed her other palm into her other leg. Her periwinkle slacks were turning a deep red. The Cancer Man sighed. "Silence is the same as consent." Marita, defiantly, although she was beginning to feel light-headed, snapped "You'll never be able to wrest control of the Syndicate this way." She pressed her palms down on the cuts harder. She watched her own blood ooze from between her fingers. "No one in their right minds will follow you again." "Nor anyone will follow you," Cancer Man reminded her gently. "So, you see, Marita, we are in the same boat after all." He snuffed out his old cigarette and lit a fresh one. "I'll tell you why I always hestitated when it concerned killing Mulder. I liked him. I've always liked him. I knew him as a boy, although he doesn't realize, doesn't remember. But more importantly, I admired his father. Bill Mulder was my friend. Even when The Project forced us to take separate paths, I've always admired him. I have always felt that I at least owed it to Bill to protect his only son... and his youngest daughter." "You speak of Starkweather as if she was normal," Marita knew she was about to pass out. She assumed she was going to die tonight, so she was determined to die with at least the truth. The dirty bast*rd owed her that much at least. "We both know she is not." The old man smiled again. "Starkweather is a very special woman," he said slowly, emphasising 'special.' She was meant to be a gift to the Mulders." "How convienient. Take one daughter and replace her with another. Interesting how you all keep referring her as Mulder's half-sister. If Bill Mulder is her father... who is her mother?" The Cancer Man ignored the second question but answered the first."No one could replace Samantha, of course, but a child always has a way of lighting a dark room... similiar how young William lit up the life of the lonely Agent Scully." He shrugged. "It was a mistake for us to allow the existance of Starkweather just as it was a mistake to allow the existance of William. Two mistakes that will be rectified soon." Marita wanted to hear more but she was greying out. "Heartless monster," she managed to mumble out. The Cancer Man shook his head. "No," he said. "That's the problem. If I was truly a heartless man, Fox Mulder would have been smothered in his cradle as I had been originally ordered to do. And none of this would be happening now, would it?" Marita passed out. CSM turned around. "Bind her wounds," he ordered the thugs in the backseat. "And don't let her die. Take her to the hospital. Let her be arrested. She needs a reminder of her position with the Syndicate, Old or New. We'll get her out of prison when we need her again. After the hospital, to the warehouse," he sighed. "Mulder and Starkweather probably already have a head start." He opened the glove box, took out the Glock with the silencer and checked it over carefully as the driver cruised on and the thugs attended to Marita's injuries. The gun was locked and loaded. Thug 1 and Thug 2 deposited Marita Covarrubias unceremoniously off at the doors of the hospital. Instead of getting back into CSM's car, they walked into the nearly deserted hospital parking garage where a non-descript brown 1985 Celebrity was waiting. "What do you think the old man's got in mind?" The thug asked his colleague conversationally before he got into the car. He never got an answer. His colleague turned to him and buried his knife deep into his gut. Blood spurted out of him mouth. He crumpled to the ground and died. The colleague picked up his companion and put him in the trunk. The colleague got into the car and drove away. As he drove away, he pulled off the fake eyebrows, the fake beard and moustache. He took off the hat and long curly brown hair tumbled down. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. Meanwhile.... The Washington DC Marriott Room 12754 The cell phone on the table rang startling the Admiral out of his sleep. "Hello?" he said, rubbing his brow, still feeling the effects of the hangover. "Admiral," a light voice said. "It's Jennifer." "Jennifer." One of his spies. "What did you discover?" "Ben's alive. Mulder's alive and he's free. And Jerilyn's safe." "Thank God, thank God." The Admiral breathed a sigh a relief. "It's being assumed that they're going to the warehouse to retrieve Ben. What are your orders sir?" The Admiral paused. The Syndicate had ordered him to help them eliminate Mulder if an opportunity arose. And boy, did an opportunity arise when Benjamin Starkweather accepted the Galpex Oil Company case. A case that had been given to him thanks to that little shit, Justin Leo. The Admiral knew he owed the Syndicate everything. His wealth, his career, his daughter. This was a debt they were expecting to be paid for. However, they didn't realize that he was a political power in his own right. He was married to one of the most powerful senator in the United States who had no ties to the Syndicate. And perhaps they figured out he had originally gone to Mulder and Scully to beg for them to protect Jerilyn... they still didn't know that he was one of the major bankrollers of the small but strong resistance group which was beginning to mobilize against the inevitiable darkness forces hovering in the heavens they had no right to fly in. It was time to decide allegiances. He had dithered long enough. He had lived a long life. He was ready for the consequences of his actions. "Call the officer in charge, that Detective Edward Carillo. Tell him you just received a tip from a secret source of the location of Ben Starkweather. Tell him that your source told you that Ben is still alive. Have them hurry." "Yes sir." "You're looking at a promotion Jennifer." And Officer Jennifer Ithenstein, the young rookie cop who had been called to the impound to investigate the blood stains in Mulder's trunk, who had been working for the Admiral since she retired after six years of service to the Navy, who had risked her life by inflitrating the Syndicate, disguising herself as a man, slicing open Marita Covarrubias' leg and killing a man tonight, merely said "Thank you sir." "Call me the minute Benjamin is found. And I want Mulder alive. Disregard my previous orders." "Yes sir." The Admiral sat down with a legal pad and began to make out a will. It was witnessed by a maid from housekeeping and a security guard wandering the halls. After the Admiral hung up, Ithenstein called Carillo. But by the time the police and FBI were mobilized, Sam-in-Doggett, Mulder and Starkweather were being held at gunpoint, Scully, Manny the Illegal Alien and Ben were trapped in a locked room and the warehouse was on fire. In the shadows, the five crept around the building, Mulder and Manny leaving their flashlights off. "Looks deserted," Manny whispered. "If Ben is truly here, there'll be guards," Scully whispered back, trying the door. "Locked. Dammit." "Shoot the lock," Manny recommended. "Not wise to waste bullets on a door," Starkweather murrmurred, feeling the wood. "Especially with Billy Myles lurking around here somewhere," Mulder reminded everyone of that unpleasant fact. "I thought he got run over by a Volvo?" Manny asked. Sam grimaced. He was peering through the dusty window. "I dunno guys..." he said. "It really looks deserted. Scully's right. If Ben's here, there'd be guards. I think we were lead on a snipe hunt." "No you're not Sam!" Al suddenly popped in. Sam, Mulder and Starkweather jumped. Scully and Manny looked at them in confusion. "Al?" Mulder and Starkweather said at the same time. Starkweather turned to Mulder and said, panicked "Oh no, not you too?" "You too what?" Mulder was completely lost. "Look, you knuckleheads, there's no time, Ben's in there, they beat the snot outta him, I'm sorry Starkweather, he tried to escaped and actually hurt one of the guards badly. He needs to get to a hospital so quit staring and get your butts in gear!!!" "Who are you talking to?" Scully exclaimed. "'Otra locos mas,'" Manny groaned. "'Cuecha te madre.'" "Another crazy one," Manny groaned, "'Motherfucker.'" "Why did you call him Sam??" Starkweather demanded the hologram. "Because-" Mulder started to say, but then Sam slugged him. "Because, honey, I wish I had time to explain, but I can't, all I gotta say is look me up in about fifteen years in Roswell, New Mexico. My name is Admiral Al Calvaricci and I'll explain everything then. Now, go with DOGGETT," here Al looked pointedly at Mulder. Mulder, for once, got the hint and shut up. "and go get your husband. He's on the third floor, second door to the left." Al took out his comlink and zapped himself away. He re-appeared in Ben's prison, this time a glorified broom closet. Ben's plan to escape by burning his captors with a lit cigarette backfired horribly. His guards beat him until there was almost nothing left to beat before taking him to a different warehouse. He wasn't sure if he had really seen Agent Scully or if he was hallucinating. Now, he lay, slumped in the corner of the locked closet, face bruised, lip split, shirt crusted over in blood. The kid was in bad shape. Al crouched down by Ben. He was out and he needed a doctor, but he wasn't going to die. Not yet. But he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. "Come on kid," Al beckoned to Ben as if he could hear him. "Stay with me. The Hurricane's here and she's brought the calvary. "WHAT?!?!?!" Al yelled up to Verbeena. "What do you MEAN there's going to be a fire?!" Back in the present… "What the hell is going on?" Scully demanded. "You DIDN'T see him then?" Starkweather asked. "See who?" "Al?" Scully's brows furrowed. Al.... why did that name sound so familiar? She couldn't place her finger on it... and yet, she almost could. She looked at Doggett, opened her mouth and shut it. "There's no time for this," Mulder said. "Starkweather, if you were ever to trust me, now is the time." Starkweather looked at Mulder, lips curling down in the most unpleasant frown. "Okay, then," she consented. She looked at the door, looked at Mulder. "Cover us," she told Scully and Sam as Mulder tossed the flashlight to Sam. Mulder and Starkweather faced the door, guns in hand. Scully and Sam stood behind them, brandishing their weapons. Manny stood behind them..... WAY behind them. "On three," Mulder said. "One- two-, THREE!" At the same time, Mulder and Starkweather kicked and the door came tumbling down. Mulder and Starkweather crouched down load and pointed their guns into the darkness while Scully and Sam stood above them, guns also out. There was nothing but darkness and the sound of the rain pitter-pattering down. "Well..." Starkweather said. "I feel stupid." "Look on the bright side," Mulder said, "If this FBI thing doesn't work for you, you'll always have a future as a Charlie's Angel." "Oh shut up." Sam turned on the flashlight. "What a dump," he muttered. "Be careful," he said warily as they all slowly entered the pitch black warehouse. "We don't know what's her-" Sam never got to finish his sentence. Despite his brilliance as a physist and doctor and the wealth of experience he earned from leaping from life to life, he never underwent the extreme training that FBI agents experience during their time in Quantico. He made a mistake that no federal agent worth their salt and alive today would make. He forgot to check his blind spot. Where Billy Myles was lurking. Mulder had just turned while Sam was talking to check *his* blind spot and had just opened his mouth to shout a warning to Sam when Billy picked him up and flung him across the room like a rag doll. Sam felt his body slam against a ladder built into a wall and firecrackers of pain were lit throughout his body. The gun skittered from his hand. "SCULLY!" Mulder yelled But Scully had already lifted the shotgun and fired pointblank range at Billy, ripping away his midsection. Starkweather, taking advantage of the rigamarole, darted behind Scully and ran to Doggett's aid. "Doggett, Papa John, GET UP," Starkweather shook him as she kept the gun pointed at the replicant. "Dios mios!" Manny cried, but he did something extraoridinarily brave and extraoridinarily stupid. As Billy crumpled to the ground, Manny jumped on top of the monster and drove his knife into its neck. While Mulder ran to Sam and Starkweather's aid and Scully kept the gun aimed at Billy, Manny got up and ran back to Doggett's truck. "What are you doing?" Scully cried out after him while constantly watching her and everyone else's back. Mulder and Starkweather helped Sam up to his feet. "I'm fine," Sam insisted although he had one hell of a headache. Manny came bouncing back, carrying the gas can. "Manny," Starkweather started to say. "What are you doin-" Manny squirted Billy with gasoline. He then took out the book of matches and lit them all. Sam then looked down and noticed the streaks of oil on the floor of the warehouse. "Oh Jesus, God, Manny DON'T!!" Manny dropped the book of matches on Billy's gasoline soaked-back. Billy burst into flames as did the oil puddles. The entrance was completely blocked by fire. "SCULLY!!!" Mulder yelled. The flames had already started devouring the wood in the building. "You stupid idiot!" Scully shrieked at Manny, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him up the stairs. Meanwhile, Mulder swung up on the ladder built into the wall and started to climb up the catwalk. He hated heights, but he hated fire more. "Go, go!!!" Sam pushed Starkweather towards the ladder. Coughing, gagging on the smoke, she stuffed the gun into her waistband of her pants and started to climb. Sam followed. The metal ladder was already hot from the heat. Mulder helped pull Starkweather up onto the shaky catwalk. He looked over his shoulder down below to see Scully dragging Manny up the stairs and disappear through a door. Sam-in-Doggett was right behind Starkweather. Both Starkweather and Mulder helped Sam up. Below them was a sea of fire. The smoke was beginning to billow in the warehouse. The flames crackled merrily, consuming the many cardboard boxes and wooden beams. The catwalk swung precariously on the chains that held it up. For once Mulder and Starkweather were devoid of any witty repartie. "Come on!!" Mulder cried, grabbing Starkweather by the arm and pulling. "I can't see!" she yelled out, coughing. "Move it, Doc," Sam-in-Doggett yelled. "We got to get out of here." Mulder looked down again and said "Oh shit." Sam looked down and through the flames and smoke, saw the fiery figure of Billy Myles stand up, tilt its head upwards and look right at them. "Oh boy," Sam said understatedly. "Move, Starkweather, move, NOW!!" He pushed her along. Starkweather blinked the soot and smoke out of her eyes just enough to see Billy. "DAMMIT!!!" she swore. "DIE ALREADY!" She followed Mulder across the catwalk, running backwards, pulling her gun, pointing it at Billy who was climbing the ladder up to the catwalk, still limping. She was starting to fall behind Mulder and Doggett. Mulder stopped, turned around, unceremonially grabbed Starkweather around her waist, half-carried, half- drug her the rest of the way to the other side of the catwalk. He tossed her over the railing of the balcony lining the wall to the offices of the third floor. Sam was almost there when Billy got off the top rung of the ladder and swung onto the catwalk. Sam and Mulder clammered over the railing. Sam, using his elbow, smashed the glass of the office door, reached in and opened the door from the inside. "Come on!" he said and Mulder and Starkweather ducked inside. Billy was still coming. Meanwhile... Scully, still dragging Manny went up one flight of stairs, then another. She kicked open the door, still carrying the shotgun. "Where are we?" Manny said, scared witless by the destruction he unintentially created. "The third floor," Scully said, coughing still. The third floor was not on fire yet, but smoke was steadily creeping up from below. "Office space." Al, meanwhile, was in the broom closet with Ben. Al, upon hearing Scully's voice, began to scream hysterically at Ben. "Kid? KID GET UP! THE CALAVRY'S HERE!! COME ON!" Ben, disorientated, almost unconscious, let his head loll around, as if it was barely connected to his neck. His eyes fluttered open then shut. "BEN COME ON," Al pleaded. "I can't help you kid, make some noise, get up, get up!" Ben, raised his head. He did not hear Al, of course. But he heard Scully ".... must be a fire escape... something... was right... nothing but a big trap..." Ben tried his voice. At first, nothing but a croak came out. The second time, he got results. "Help..." he cried out as he pulled himself up, his big hand pressing against his broken ribs. "Atta boy," Al crowed. "Sportsfans, the kid is UP! COME ON SCULLY!" "Somebody... help me," Ben staggered the short distance to the door. He sank to his knees and began pounding on it. "Get me out of here." Scully froze halfway down the hall. "Did you here something, Manny?" Manny turned around. "It's coming from that closet," he pointed at the door. "... help... I need a doctor... please..." "Ben," Scully whispered. Then louder, running down the narrow hallway, "BEN! BEN STARKWEATHER, WHERE ARE YOU?" "Here!" Ben said, almost afraid to hope. "I'm in here. Is that you, Agent Scully??" "Yes it's me Ben," Scully announced, coughing on the smoke that was getting thicker. "And Mulder and Doggett and Starkweather are here too." "Starkwea- Jerilyn? She's alive? They told me she was dead." Scully examined the lock. "Ben, get as far away from the door as possible," she ordered him. She handed the shotgun off to Manny and took out her handgun. She fired, blowing the doorhandle off. She pushed open the door. "Ben!" she gasped in horror at his appearance. "Agent Scully, god, it's good to see you," Ben took a step forward but groaned in pain, collapsing. "We've got to get you out of here," Scully said, looping his arm over her shoulder. "Manny! Manny I need your help!! Dammit!! Where did he go???" "Here, Agent Scully," Manny said, pale faced, arms over his head, the barrel of Langly's shotgun to his head. "Agent Scully, if you and Mr. Starweather would be as so kind to step out," Justin Leo said pleasantly, despite the billowing smoke and blasting heat. "And feel free to toss me your gun while you're at it." Fuming, Scully tossed her gun onto the floor and walked out of the broom closet with Ben still leaning on her shoulders. "Damn you Leo," Scully seethed, "you bastard." But Leo wasn't looking at Scully, he was staring at Ben. Hate simmered in his heart, jealousy poisoned his soul. With a kick, he forced Manny to join the trio. He pointed the shotgun at Ben's head. "Who ARE you??" Ben blurted out. And Leo lowered the gun. This guy, this man that Lily had married instead of him (or so Leo believed) had no idea who he was. He was completely clueless. As the smoke began to build up even worse and the hallway got hotter, Leo opened the door to an unused storage room. "Get in," he ordered, still pointing the shotgun at them. "Hey man, no way!" Manny yelped. "The damn building's on fire!" "Then it'll be a nice preview of hell for you three. Get in." Ben, still in terrible pain, summoned up all of his diplomacy skills. "At least let Agent Scully go," he begged. "Get in there," Leo came closer to them, shotgun pointed at Scully's chest. "For God's sake, she's got a child!" Ben tried one last time. "Just let her go, man!" Leo raised the gun to Scully's head. As calmly as she could, Scully said "It's okay Ben, we'll do as he says." She slowly began backing into the room. "Manny, come on, cooperate." Manny, wide- eyed, coughing, followed Scully and Ben. Leo flung the door shut, locked it and went off in search of Starkweather. There was no light in the storeroom and was becoming unbearably hot. "Oh my God," Manny said, gagging on the smoke. "We're gonna die." "Manny," Scully snapped. "We don't have time for pessimism. Do you still have that flashlight?" In the stifling darkness, Manny managed to fumble the little Mag-Lite flashlight to her. Scully switched it on and took a look-see. Her heart began to falter. Maybe Manny was right... But Ben had a strange silly little grin on his face. "Hey Agent Scully..." he said, looking up at the low ceiling. "Yeah..." Scully buried her face in the crook of her elbow to cough Ben was just as big of a movie buff as Jerilyn was, one of the many reasons why they were attracted to eachother in the beginning. "Ever see the movie 'The Breakfast Club'?" Scully looked up at the ceiling panels and grinned, knowing exactly what Ben was talking about. Meanwhile.... Fleeing into the office, Sam shut the door behind him. "This isn't good," Starkweather informed everybody. "Thank you Captain Obvious," Mulder snapped back at her. "Eat me." "I lost my gun," Sam told them. "Are you two still armed?" Starkweather and Mulder both pulled out their guns and scurried to the door. Sweat poured down Mulder's brow and he wiped his cheek on his shoulder. When Billy got off the catwalk and climbed onto the balcony, Mulder and Starkweather both stepped out and fired point-blank range at the replicant. Billy staggered backwards. When their clips were empty, Sam rushed the monster, just like how he used to rush the quarterback during high school football. With one gigantic push, Sam forced Billy over the edge of the balcony and Billy plummented back into the sea of flames below. Al popped in. "Nice shot Sam! Now get those kids," he jerked his head, indicating Mulder and Starkweather, "out of here." The heat drove Sam back inside the office. Just then, enough smoke had filtered upwards to trigger the sprinkler system. A weak spray of water coated everything, doing little to alleviate the inferno below. "We've got to find Scully and Manny!" Mulder told Sam, gagging on the smoke. "Ben might be here too," Starkweather said to Sam. "They're okay," Al told Sam. "Scully's in the process of getting Benny-boy and Manny out as we speak. They're gonna be fine. You guys are gonna get cooked, literally if you don't get out of here!" "Come on," Sam grabbed Starkweather by the arm and took her out of the hallway through the other door in the office. Mulder followed. "Scully!!" Sam cried out. "Ben! Manny, Scully!" Mulder and Starkweather joined in on the chorus. Starkweather turned around. "Jesus Jumping Christ, Mulder!" she pushed Mulder out of the way just as Justin Leo came out of the shadows and fired Scully's handgun at them. The shot barely missed them. The three of them started to run. "Come on, Sam!" Mulder yelled, completely forgetting that Starkweather had no knowledge of the Quantum Leap Project and was under the illusion that Doggett was still Doggett. Not that Starkweather was particularly paying attention. "Over here!" she cried and darted up a stairwell that lead to the rooftop. Sam and Mulder followed. So did Justin Leo. Meanwhile... Inside the storage room, Scully instructed Manny, "Lift me up first." Manny crouched down, Scully clammered on top of his shoulders. The smoke was building up. Coughing, Manny stood up carefully. Ben leaned against the wall, cold sweat covering his face as he was still in horrible pain. Scully weaved a bit, got her bearings, then reached for the fake ceiling panel and lifted it up easily. She reached and grabbed the pipe that was directly above her head. She started to pullherself up. Manny gave her a bit of a boost up and Scully was able to get up. Scootching herself into the ceiling, she leaned over the edge, reaching her arms out to down below. "Help Ben up, and hurry!" she yelled, gagging from the smoke. Manny went to Ben, "Okay, hombre," Manny said sorrowfully. "This is gonna probably hurt. Lo siento, lo siento." "Okay," Ben got up, wincing, clutching his ribs. "Let's get out of this hellhole." Manny, despite his wiry, weenie appearance, was actually fairly strong. He wrapped his arms around Ben's middle and lifted Ben up. Ben tried to stifle a cry of pain, but couldn't help it. "Lo siento, lo siento!" Manny yelled out again. Scully grabbed Ben's wrists and pulled him up. Once Ben was up, she reached back down, "Come on Manny!" Just then, she heard Starkweather cry out "Jesus Jumping Christ, Mulder!!!" and then a gunshot. "Oh my God," Scully turned her head towards the sound. "Manny come on!" Manny jumped, missed Scully's hands. "Manny, come on!!" Manny jumped again, this time grabbing Scully's hand. Scully tried to pull him up, but couldn't get the leverage. Scully could hear commotion in the hallway with Starkweather screaming at Mulder adn Sam-in- Doggett to follow her <> Scully wondered wildly. Suddenly, a pair of sooty, bloodied hands clamped down on hers. Ben, despite his own injuries, had crawled over to Scully's side to help her pull up Manny. Together they got him out of their prison. "Let's get out of here!" Manny suggested and Scully and Ben decided that was an excellent idea. They crawled through the ceiling, coughing all the while. The smoke was thick, almost blinding now. As they crawled, Scully had a hideous thought. "Guys, wasn't there a scene in 'The Breakfast Club' where the ceiling panels colla-" The ceiling panels collapsed and Scully, Manny and Ben tumbled down into the hallway. Starkweather made her way up the ladder. "SCUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYY!" She heard Mulder call out at the top of his lungs below her. "Mulder, RUN!!!" Sam was bellowing at top of his lungs "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" She emphasized each step back down the latter with a swear, and drew her gun. "Mulder, don't panick yet. There's a roof up here, there's a river. We've just gotta get to the river." Mulder began to protest, but Billy Miles still staggerred forward, and Leo, who had been firing shaky shots at Sam and Mulder the whole chase, had just dropped his gun. "LIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!" Leo screamed, lurching forward at Starkweather as soon as she had emerged from the ladder. "No...Not Lilly...me Jeri, you psychoboy." "They just programmed you to say that..." he stammered, backing away from her slowly, "they gave you this whole new identity..." "Leo," Mulder cautioned in his flat monotone, "I know people who can help you find the answers you want. I know you think she's Lilly but it's not her, Justin. It's not her." "Mulder duck!" Starkweather screamed, for Billy Miles had wrenched a pipe free from the warehouse and was about to swing at him. "Starkweather GO!" Sam yelled. Mulder managed to grab onto the pipe in one of his swings, but Leo pushed the bar out of Mulder's grip and ran up the stairs. "STARKWEATHER!" Mulder bellowed after her. Leo pursued the monster up the ladder, visibly coiling at the pain in his arm. "LEO!" Mulder called out futiley. He didn't seem to be in tune with anything else around him. "Hang on, Lilly! I'm coming!" Leo shouted after Starkweather. Billy Miles was inching closer on Starkweather. "Sam," Mulder said in panicked realization, "That thing is going after me, Starkweather...and Will." "Not if we can hit it off at the pass." Sam offered, "Come on!" he urged unecessarily, and then began the ascent up the ladder, followed closely by Mulder. There, they watched as Leo threw his own body in between Billy Miles and Starkweather. Starkweather, Mulder, and Sam both watched in horror as the two wrestled their way off of the rooftop, and down into the river. Al popped in just in time to see Leo and Billy Miles plummetting down to the rapids of the Patomac River. "Agent Starkweather, Ben's ok, you just gotta get off this warehouse in a few minutes before it blows to kingdom come! Ben and Scully and Manny are all outta there, and they'll be just fine! You gotta jump into that river, you here me! JUMP!" "Mulder, I hope you know how to doggy-paddle." Starkweather stared down at the roaring Patomac for a few seconds, faced down, closed her eyes, and heard Sam's splash. Then she muttered something and pushed Mulder forward towards the raging rapids. Then she dove in herself. Being summer, the water wasn't cold, but the storm made it colder than usual. "Starkweather!" Sam was calling out frantically. "Doc!" "Over here, Papa John!" "Mulder?!" Sam called out treading water next as Starkweather scrambled to the banks, watching the building being swallowed in bright orange flames. "MULDER!!" She called out as soon as she made it safely to the bank Meanwhile... As they crawled, Scully had a hideous thought. "Guys, wasn't there a scene in 'The Breakfast Club' where the ceiling panels colla-" The ceiling panels collapsed and Scully, Manny and Ben tumbled down into the hallway. Buried underneath ceiling crumbles and two men, Scully mumbled "Could you please get off of me?" At the sound of the crash, Sam-in-Doggett and Mulder jumped. They had only started going up the stairs that led to the ladder up to the roof. Starkweather had already begun to ascend to the roof. Mulder pushed past Sam. He saw Leo coming after them with Scully's gun. He also saw Billy Miles fling open the door and head towards them. He walked right over Ben, Scully and Manny, not even noticing them. "SCULLY!" Mulder cried... Starkweather, meanwhile had almost gotten to the roof, heard Mulder's cries. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit...." she cursed on her way down to retrieve her partner and her half-brother. While the chaos with Leo, the monster, the agent, the time-travler and the Deputy Mayor ensued, Scully, shaken that she, again, had been so close to the monster who was sent to steal her child but at the last minute, did not, got up to chase him. But Manny grabbed her, "Agent Scully, PLEASE, let's get OUT OF HERE!!! Senor Starkweather needs a doctor, pronto. Por favor, vamos por la amor del Dios!" Poor Manny was so frightened, he lapsed into Spanish. But Scully caught the gist. Plus Ben, after all that lifting and pulling and crawling and falling with his broken ribs not to mention the smoke inhalation everyone was suffering, was in really bad shape. The doorframe to the staircase leading down to the mainfloor of the warehouse just caught fire. Scully heard the building crack and groan, on the very verge of total collapse. "Help him." Scully ordered Manny, heart pounding in fear, fear for Mulder, for Starkweather, for Sam-in-Doggett. Manny slung Ben on his back, piggy back and made a run for the open window at the end of the hallway. "There's a fire escape!" he yelled in glad relief. <> Scully wondered. Probably because with a gun-wielding nut and blood-thirsty replicant at their tails, they probably weren't thinking very rationally. "Go, go, go!!!" Scully said. Manny swung out the window. "Hold on tight, amigo," he told Ben as he started to climb out. Scully followed... Meanwhile... Assistant Director Skinner was in the squad car with Detective Edward Carillo as they went flying towards the warehouse. They were still a good half-mile away when they were able to see the flames. "Holy God," Carillo said. Skinner sighed. The man didn't even work for him anymore... how was it still possible that massive destruction of property occurred whenever Mulder was involved with something? "Let's just hope that people are still alive, Detective," Skinner said curtly. In the distance, the sirens from fire trucks and ambulances blended into on hellish wail. Skinner felt physically ill as he thought of the devil's deal he made with that smoking bast*rd. He hoped there was someone to pull out from the wreckage. Half a block away, all the closer they could get, the squad car squealled to a halt. Carillo and Skinner fairly flew from the car, guns drawn. Two sooty figures were running from the building. As they got closer, Carillo and Skinner realized that it was three people, one was piggybacked on the other and obviously injured. As they got even closer, Skinner realized who they were and his heart leapt in joy. "DANA!" he cried, holstering his gun. Forgetting propriety, he engulfed Scully into the bearhug he would have given a long-lost daughter if he had even taken a break from his career to have a family. "Thank God," Skinner broke away, remembering himself. "You alright?" "I'm fine," Scully said, "but this man needs to get to a hospital ASAP." Manny slid Ben off his back and laid him on the ground. Carillo crouched down. "Well, I'll be damned," he said in wonder. "Mr. Starkweather, there's gonna be a whole lot of people happy to see you, sir." Ben clutched at the detective's jacket. "You're not taking me anywhere until somebody gets Jeri off that damn roof." "WHAT?!" Skinner and Carillo unintentionally spoke in unison. "Jeri, my wife, she came for me," Ben coughed, feeling the effects of smoke inhalation. "Jeri, her partner John Doggett and her brother Fox Mulder-" "Mulder?" Carillo looked up at the building, almost totally engulfed in flames. "Mulder was implicated in your disappearance, Mr. Starkweather." "Brother??" Skinner was lost, which was nothing new. "Mulder?" Ben looked completely confused. "What the hell for?" "Sir," Scully said urgently, "I strongly recommend you call a SWAT team. Billy Miles is up on that roof." "WHAT!??" Skinner squawked. He pulled out his cell phone and was about to dial when Manny said: "Not any more," he pointed to two figures plummenting into the roaring Potomac River. "Who was that with them?" Skinner asked. "I don't know, sir," Scully felt panic butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "I can't see." Smoke curled out of the windows in thick plumes... In a non-descript car, much like Nero while Rome burned, the Cigarette Smoking Man watched the scenario expressionlessly. He sighed. It was out of his hands now. If Mulder and Starkweather were killed, problem solved. If they lived... well... there was always next time. At least they were able smuggle the vial of Purity out of the country easily. And he was pretty sure Ben's case with the oil company would be closed down. At least two of the four major objectives were achieved. "Drive," he ordered the driver dryly as he lit a cigarette. The car disappeared from the scene unnoticed just as the Admiral's car pulled up. The Admiral got out of his car, saw Scully and Ben with the others but did not approach them, not yet. Fire trucks were lining up, hooking up the hoses to the hydrants, brave men and women in their bright yellow suits and oxygen masks started to run towards the building. One of them reached the doorway and turned back, motioning his fellow firefighters to turn back. "She's gonna blow!!!!" He yelled. Just then, a figure leapt from the roof. "That looked like Doggett!" Scully cried as Sam-in-Doggett hit the water. Then another male figure plummented into the river she prayed. And finally a female form dove into the Potomac. Scully knew that was Starkweather. Scully left Skinner, Ben and Manny and ran towards the shore. "Mulder, I hope you know how to doggy-paddle." Starkweather stared down at the roaring Patomac for a few seconds, faced down, closed her eyes, and heard Sam's splash. Then she muttered something and pushed Mulder forward towards the raging rapids. Then she dove in herself. Being summer, the water wasn't cold, but the storm made it colder than usual. "Starkweather!" Sam was calling out frantically. "Doc!" "Over here, Papa John!" "Mulder?!" Sam called out treading water next as Starkweather scrambled to the banks, watching the building being swallowed in bright orange flames. "MULDER!!" She called out as soon as she made it safely to the bank. "Oh sweet Jesus," she said, for once, in prayer. She bellowed again: "**MULDER!!**" Meanwhile, Sam dove back under the water. He forced himself to open his eyes underwater, but could see nothing. His lungs screamed for oxygen so with a kick of the legs, he swam upwards. He burst up to the surface. "MULDER!!" Scully saw Starkweather standing on the shoreline, looking out at the river and starting running. "Agent Starkweather!" she cried. "Where's Doggett?! Where's Mulder?!" Starkweather felt sick to her stomach. She blinked back tears. "I don't know..." Scully felt her heart drop. "What do you mean you don't know?!?" Scully cupped her hands around her mouth, "MULDER! MULDER!!!" Starkweather closed her eyes in horror. She put her hand over her mouth while Scully cried out Mulder's name. Sam, treading water, turned to his left and gasped Mulder was floating about three yards away from him, face down in the water. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," Sam gasped as he swam towards him. "MULDER!" Sam reached for his arm and pulled him towards him. He flipped him over to his back. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open. "Oh boy, c'mon Mulder, don't do this!" Sam cried as he wrapped one arm around Mulder's chest and began swimming for shore. "Starkweather!" Sam cried out. "Starkweather!!" Starkweather's eyes popped open at the sound of her name. "Doggett!!" she answered back. "Oh my God!!" she cried when she saw Sam dragging Mulder to shore. She leaped back into the river and waded out to them. Scully followed Starkweather, not noticing the biting chill of the water. "What happened? What's going on?" She then saw that Mulder was not moving at all. "Oh God! Mulder!" "Get help, Scully," Sam yelled at her as he and Starkweather brought Mulder to dry land and laid him on the ground. Starkweather put her ear to Mulder's mouth. "He's not breathing." "Doggett, do you know CPR?" "Yes." Sam instantly snapped into doctor-mode and crouched by Mulder's chest. "Scully go!!" Scully hesitated for the slightest second, perhaps reminded of that horrible time when he had been found dead in that field in Montana. But she ran for the paramedics. "Start chest compressions," orderd Dr. Starkweather. Dr. Beckett pressed his big hands into Mulder's sterum. "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three- one thousand, breathe!!" Dr. Starkweather clamped her mouth over Mulder's mouth and nose and puffed air into his lungs. "Nothing, chest compressions." "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, breathe." Sam pumped Mulder's chest. "Come on Mulder, dammit." Starkweather puffed air through Mulder's mouth to his lungs again. "Nothing. God dammit Mulder," Starkweather yelled at him as Sam pumped at his chest again. "Don't you fucking die on us." "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, breathe, dammit, Mulder, breathe!!" Sam begged him. Just as Starkweather was about to bend down to breathe for him again, Mulder gagged. River water trickled out of his mouth. He tried to sit up. Starkweather and Sam helped him up as he started to vomit water. "Easy does it, easy does it," Starkweather said in her best bedside manner voice. She smoothed his hair back from his brow. "My God, you have more lives than a cat," she said, voice shaking from relief. Mulder gulped air in great whooshes. He looked at Starkweather. "You... performed... C... PR?" Starkweather nodded. "If... this... was.. Arkansas, I'd... I'd be turned on right now," he grinned at her even as his body was wracked with dry heaves. "You asshole," Starkweather gave him a well-meaning thump to his shoulder. Sam sighed in relief and helped him stand up. Scully just came sprinting down the slope again with two paramedics in tow. When she saw Mulder standing, leaning on Sam, but still standing up, she flew towards him. "Mulder!! Mulder!! You're alright!!!" she said joyously as she approached him. Mulder stared at her. "Who are you?" Scully stared, mouth dropping open. Then she burst into tears and punched Mulder in the gut. "Dammit, Mulder, that wasn't funny the first time you did that, and it's not funny now..." Mulder leaned into Scully and hugged her. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," Mulder mumbled into her hair. "Do you need us then?" One of the paramedics asked. Sam told him. "I think he'll be okay. Probably just needs bedrest and Agent Scully's a medical doctor, I think she'll look after him. But maybe you should come and look at Agent Starkweather's leg..." Sam turned to find Starkweather standing apart from everyone, holding herself, staring at the burning warehouse. "Starkweather," Scully said, supporting Mulder. "We found Ben." Starkweather turned around. "What?" "He's fine, he's hurt, but he's going to be fine, he's with Skinner..." But Starkweather didn't wait for Scully to finish her sentence. She took off towards the flashing lights of the fire trucks and police cars. Ben was being loaded up onto a stretcher despite his protests. He lifted his head one more time to argue with the paramedics that he wasn't going anywhere when he heard someone crying out his name. "Ben!! Ben!!" "Jesus, guys, stop!!" Ben told the paramedics on last time as Jerilyn ran to the ambulance. She pushed past the paramedics. "Oh my God!!" she wept as she took his hands and kissed him full on the mouth. "Oh my God," she said again as she ran her fingers through his hair. "What did they do to you?" she choked out through her tears. "Broken ribs mostly, lots of bruising, we're taking him to the hospital to make sure there's nothing else ma'am," the medic said patronizingly. "Don't talk to her like she's an idiot," Ben told him. "She's a doctor and she carries a big gun." The paramedics backed off, just a little. "I thought I'd never see you again," she sniffled as Ben wiped tears off her cheeks. She clutched his hands. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry you got dragged into all of this." "They told me," Ben nodded his head to Carillo and Skinner, who had been hovering over him like angry mother bears the entire time, "that someone was trying to frame MULDER for my MURDER? Are they serious?" Jerilyn nodded. "Oh Jesus, Ben. It was insane. This whole thing... and we don't even know WHY they did this to us..." She tried to gulp back the tears. "I don't think we'll ever know," Ben said helplessly. "But everything's okay now, Jeri. I promise, everything's going to be okay now." He wiped more tears from Jeri's face even as his own eyes welled. "Hey. Hey now... big bad FBI broads don't cry." His voice cracked. "Neither do Councilors," she whispered as she kissed his hand. "Oh!" she suddenly realized and started digging into her pocket. She pulled out his wedding band. "Missing something?" she said with a teary smile as she slid his wedding ring back on its rightful place. "Mrs. Starkweather," the medic told her gently. "We really need to get him to the hospital. But you can ride along if you like..." Ben answered for Jerilyn. "She's got FBI stuff to do first," Ben said, intertwining his fingers with hers and giving her a squeeze. "Plus, I'm guessing," he chuckled, "she might want some dry clothes. Hell..." he grinned, feeling better by just seeing Jerilyn again, "*I* would like some clean clothes myself. I've been wearing the same boxers for about a week now and they're beginning to chaff." That did it. Jerilyn smiled spontaneously and joyously for the first time since the ordeal began. "Are you sure, baby?" "I'll see you at the hospital, Jeri," Ben kissed her hand again. "While you're at it, smuggle me some beers and Caesar for me while you're at it." "Deal," Jerilyn leaned over and kissed Ben on the lips again. "I love you Counselor." "I love you too," Ben reached up with his free hand and stroked her hair. "And I did learn one thing from this whole clusterf*ck." "What?" Jerilyn finally released his hand and let the paramedics do their job. As the paramedics lifted the stretcher into the ambulance, Ben said "I'm gonna leave this X-File sh*t to the experts," with a groan. Just as the paramedics shut the door to the ambulance, Scully, Mulder and Sam-in-Doggett approached Starkweather and Skinner. "Mulder," Skinner asked gruffly "how many guardian angels do you have???" Mulder, still leaning on Scully replied in all seriousness. "It's got to be up in the thousands." "I don't mean to alarm you, but you should be aware, the police and federal agents are making a sweep of the area, but so far, there is no trace of Billy Miles or Justin Leo." "Typical," Mulder snorted. "Slipped through our fingers again." "I've sent agents to all of your respective homes for survelliance, just in case one of them rears their ugly heads. That's all we can really do for now." Skinner said. "And now," he said impatiently, "can someone explain to me how YOU," he looked at Mulder "are related to HER," he looked at Starkweather. Mulder opened his mouth to speak but whatever he was about to say was lost for the Admiral finally approached the group. "Jerilyn," the Admiral reached for her. Jerilyn recoiled, anger clouding her face. "You..." she said bitterly. "You knew about this the entire time... you had to of..." "Jerilyn?" The Admiral stole a glance to Scully, who only glared at him stonily. "Honey, what are you talking about? I came into town when we thought Ben was gon-" "Liar," she hissed. The Admiral looked as if she had slapped him. "You were planning on coming into town before all of this happened to meet with KERSH, of all people. I saw it in his planner. I heard your guys' phone conversation." The Admiral knew when he was defeated. "Jerilyn," he said painfully. "Everything I did, was to protect you." "Then why didn't you tell me the truth when I came to Sedona last April?" "The truth would have killed you," the Admiral protested. Starkweather glowered at him. "It already has." The Admiral had to make one last try. "Jerilyn, everything I have done, everything I have lived for was to protect YOU. I know I haven't been the perfect father bu-" "My father is dead." "Jerilyn," the Admiral sighed. "That's a little extreme. I know you're upset with me bu-" "NO." Jerilyn took a step away from him. "MY father," she turned to face Mulder. "is dead. He was murdered by a man named Alex Krycek." She turned to face the Admiral again. "Does that ring any bells?" The Admiral looked to Mulder, Scully, Skinner and Sam-in-Doggett for help. All he received were unsympathetic, angry glares. "You were never meant to find out," he said lamely. "Ben was almost killed tonight," Starkweather said angrily. "And you know about it the entire time and didn't lift a finger to stop anything, did you???" The Admiral could have argued that point, but one look in her eyes told him that any further debate on the subject would be an exercise in futility. He lowered his head and walked away. Yes, he had saved her life... but he had lost her forever. After the Admiral had left, Mulder said softly to Starkweather, "I'm sorry, Jerilyn." Only Mulder could truly sympathize with how devastating it is, even to an adult child, to be completely dillusioned by their hero, their parent that they had adored. Starkweather turned to Mulder. Despite all of her not-so-outstanding qualities, her one redeeming characteristic was that if she was wrong, she admitted it. "No, Mulder. **I'm** sorry. I should have known better." Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Starkweather and Mulder finally shook hands and ended the duel of wills. But Mulder continued with the snipe-war as he thumped Starkweather on the shoulder and said "See you at the family reunion. Maybe this year you'll get to sit with the adults." "As if you have any experience in being an adult." "Well, I do have at least twelve years on you, baby sister." "Oh do NOT start calling me 'baby sister', I will fucking deck you again." "Tsk tsk little Hurricane, such foul language from a pristine lady." "Hurricane!?!?" Starkweather spluttered. "Now, listen here, *Spooky*-" "Both of you!" Scully snapped in her best "Mom" voice. "Enough!" "He started it," Starkweather whined. "She hit me," Mulder whined right back. "She broke my nose when I got arrested." "It was an easy target, big schnozz that it is." "Alright you little twerp-" "You're BOTH sitting at the kids' table for the holiday meals!" Scully yelled at them. "Maybe William can teach you two some manners." "Agent Scully," Detective Carillo, stifling guffaws, said "since the Deputy Mayor is cleared of all charges, why don't you take him home before these two tear each other apart." "An excellent suggestion," Scully said with a relieved sigh. "I know there's a certain little boy who's eager to see you." "Later Hurricane," Mulder, still leaning against Scully, limped towards Skinner's car, volunteering him to give them a ride home. "I'm gonna buy your kid a drum, Mulder!" Starkweather threatened. Mulder, as usual, had the winning shot with "Good, I'll have him bring it over when you babysit him." Sam shook his head. As entertaining as the Mulder and Starkweather show was... he couldn't help but wonder... Al popped in again. "Well, everything's turning out to be pretty okay," he told Sam. "The plague, obviously, never happened and aliens never took over the world." He thumped his comlink. "Mulder gets reinstated to his Deputy Mayor job, which he does for another year before... before..." he hit the comlink and it squawked at him. "Before going to work for the CIA as a consultant? That's scary. Anyway... Scully ends up leaving the X-Files in about two years, but she's still around to help out Reyes, Doggett and Starkweather every now and again. And... on September 10, 2010, those two crazy kids finally tie the knot in a private ceremony at Mulder's childhood home in Martha's Vineyard. And even though they're not with the FBI anymore, they're both kept on retainer to consult on X-File cases. So a big shiny happy ending for those two. It only took them," Al did the math, "met in 1993.... only took them seventeen years." "What about Starkweather? Do she and Ben work out their differences?" Sam asked. Al consulted his comlink. A look of pain crosses his face. "I'm sorry Sam," Al said. "Ben's out of the picture by Christmas time." "What?!" Sam's shoulder's slumped. "Does that mean I have to stay here until Christmas to help those two repair their marriage?" "I don't think so Sam," Al said quietly. "Believe me, speaking as a man quite experienced in the ways of failed relationships, somethings aren't just meant to last. Plus, according to Zig...he bites the big one in less than a year." "Then why am I still here Al?" "Ziggy?" Al consulted the super-computer. "What's the word? Why're we still here??" Al looked down at his comlink. "What the hell...." Al's brow furrowed in confusion. He chewed on his cigar for a bit. "Well... according to Ziggy... she says that for you to leap now... you have to..." he read aloud from the comlink. "say goodbye to Starkweather and start the DSwR. DSwR?? What the hell does that mean? Ziggy! Translate!" "She doesn't have to," Sam said, a little sadly, looking at Starkweather, who was giving her statement to Detective Carillo. "I know what she means. Al... can you promise me something?" "Anything buddy," Al said. Sam took a deep breath. "Whenever something is going wrong with a future leap and it looks totally impossible... break a rule and remind me of Starkweather. Of her strength. Her loyalty. Her preserverance." "You got it Sam," Al promised. "Go. Say goodbye." Sam-in-Doggett went up to Starkweather. He grabbed a gray flannel blanket from one of the lingering paramedics and wrapped it around Starkweather's shoulders. "Are you finished here?" Sam asked Carillo. "All done," Carillo put his notebook in his jacket pocket. "Get some rest you two. Good night." And Carillo walked away, pleased that one of his cases finally had a happy ending. "How're you doing, Starkweather?" Sam asked her, wrapping the blanket tighter around her, making her look like a papoose. She shrugged. "Tired. Estatic. Angry. Tired. Thrilled. Scared. Tired. Did I mention tired??" Sam laughed. "No. Are you tired?" he teased her. "I could sleep for a thousand years," she groaned. "Doggett... you were right. About Mulder. About Ben. About everything. I couldn't have gotten through this nightmare without you." "That's what I'm here for," Sam said. "And I count on that," she replied. She opened her arms and engulfed Sam in the world's biggest hug. "Thank you for helping me find Ben." "You're a special lady, Starkweather," Sam said in her ear. "Don't ever forget that. Don't ever forget that I said that." Sam stepped away. Trying to figure out how to do what he needed to do. To say goodbye. To lead Starkweather towards the path where she was meant to go. To put right what once went wrong. And Sam realized what he needed to do. It was so simple. It was safe, and yet not. Everyone had seen Mulder and Scully do it a thousand times. He put his hands on Starkweather's shoulders and kissed her forehead. Al looked at his comlink and smiled. "Goodbye Starkweather," Al said as he and Sam vanished in blaze of blinding blue light. John Doggett opened his eyes and saw Starkweather standing in front of him, soaking wet, wrapped in a gray blanket, smiling at him. Doggett realized. Then instantly thought: "Starkweather, what the hell happened to you?" Doggett turned and saw the blazing building that the fire fighters were still trying to put out. "Oh my God... what the hell happened here?" "Doggett, I think we'll be trying to figure that out for years," she said, still smiling. "Come on Papa John, you better come to the hospital with me. It looks like you might be concussed." Doggett put his arm over Starkweather's shoulder and together they walked to his waiting pickup truck. It never felt so good to hear her call him 'Papa John' before. Fifteen years down the road: With another upsurge of paranormal cases on the horizon and FBI agents' talents being currently directed on security issues, it was time for A.D. Starkweather to assign the head of her old division a new partner. Agent Reyes was talented, and had a high success rate in investigating paranormal cases, but nobody could work alone in those conditions for very long. Besides, if she didn't assign somebody soon, it looked as though she would have to shut the division down. She made a promise to somebody a long time ago that she wouldn't allow that to happen as long as she could do something about it. One applicant seemed to stand out in the screaning process for the job. A physicist's daughter who had graduated five years ago from MIT was an Alabama native, Samantha Jo Fuller had specialized in quantum mechanics both in Quantico and in her work with unspecified government projects. According to her superiors in New Mexico, she had medical training at Quantico and developed quite a flare for profiling, and from experience Starkweather knew that the basement office could use that kind of expertise. Starkweather was on the phone when the applicant came in. She motioned the new agent to come in, smiling apologetically. The young woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties twirled her honey-wheat hair nervously around her index finger. She tentatively sat down, and brushed her one white strand that accentuated her face. "Yes, I know we need all the manpower we can get on this case, but I just can't close that office to accommodate you." Starkweather was insisting. At her next remark, the girl jumped. "The FBI's investigation into the paranormal has been justified for nearly TEN YEARS now...no...we need Agent Reyes in that office. If you have issues with that you can take it up with Deputy Director Doggett." She barked, and slamming down the phone, smiled sweetly at the woman who just came in. "Before you enlisted in the FBI, what was that project that you worked on in New Mexico?" "That's classified ma'am." The new agent said flatly. She was uncomfortable calling someone who looked her age ma'am, but she wasn't about to start a new position on a sour note. Starkweather inwardly grimaced at being called ma'am. "My sources tell me it had something to do with time travel." "Sources?" "If that's true, you will get along just fine with your new partner." Starkweather replied not missing a beat. "Were you informed of the type of cases your division investigates?" "If I understand it correctly, the X-Files Division deals with paranormal and unexplained phenomena." Fuller recited. "But I didn't think the FBI investigated those kinds of cases." "I wasn't aware that the government backed time- travel experiments either" Starkweather returned with a sly grin. "Come with me, and I'll show you to your new office. Sorry I don't have much time to acquaint you with the building, but I have a flight out to New Mexico on personal business that leaves in an hour." Agent Fuller nodded in understanding and followed her petite superior down the halls of the J Edgar Hoover building, and wondered why there were mile-long lines of tourists for office buildings. "...And this," her new boss said unlocking the door and handing her a lone key. "Is your office. I hope you'll find everything you need, Agent Fuller. Call me on my cell if you need to be in touch with me. If you'll excuse me, I have a flight to make. Sandy should be in shortly." With that, her new boss turned and left. The Agent glanced tentatively at her new surroundings. She saw a neatly kept office with two desks, and a huge filing cabinet. The occupied desk facing the door was neatly kept with photos of a small boy and a girl, her new boss and her boss's superior, a hazel-eyed man with peppering hair and a pretty, petite redhead holding a small redheaded boy standing next to him, next to him, a tall man with a wreath of white hair, a man with a neatly trimmed beard in a suit was next, then a shorter, balding, odd-looking man, then a tall, lanky man with blond stringy hair with thick glasses perched on his nose all posing uncomfortably around a Christmas tree. The nameplate on the desk read "Alexander" The office itself looked like it was barely big enough for two people. There were rows of filing cabinets, all labeled "X-Files". There was barely walking space between two desks, but there were a couple of plants that made it look comfortable. The walls were sparsely decorated, with the exception of a yellowed and frayed poster with an obviously forged depiction of a flying saucer, proclaiming "I WANT TO BELIEVE." She took the empty desk closer to the door, and decided it was in her best interest to familiarize herself with the cases. She opened the "A" drawer and began reading. She was halfway through the contents of her first folder when there was a knock at the door. "Great, here comes Princess Leia." Fuller groaned, thinking it was her new boss, and put on her best professional smile. "Come in." She called out. Instead of her boss like she expected, a petite redhead with an FBI guest badge on her lapel. She didn't look up from the file until the woman spoke. "Ma'am, the senior partner isn't here yet. Let me redirect you. Just one…" She went over to the phone and saw that the woman was in the picture with the family. "Deputy Director Doggett asked me to come by and introduce myself and show you the ropes around here. Your senior officer isn't going to be able to come in till after lunch." She smiled apologetically and stood up, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm sorry ma'am," she flustered, "just doing some research." "So what do you think about UFO's after reading that file?" "To be perfectly honest, ma'am," Fuller answered carefully, "I'm not quite sure what to think. I am aware of what the founder of this division seems to believe is a conspiracy, geared towards covering up a plot of colonization. I need physical evidence to back that up before I concur." "Sounds too much like Star Wars?" the woman asked, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "There's no documented scientific evidence yet of the existence of extra terrestrials." At Fuller's answer, the woman raised a questioning eyebrow, and approached the desk. "Twenty years ago," Scully replied, crossing her arms. "I would have said the same thing. I used to be you, Agent..." Later on that day Quantum Leap Headquarters Roswell, New Mexico Al left the imaging chamber, rubbing his temple. Now THAT was one hell of a leap. One destined to go down in the record books, that was for sure. He looked at Goushie. "Let me know when Sam's in a new body," he said as he shuffled towards his office. "Yes sir," Goushie said. Al had just sat down in his big comfortable chair when his phone rang. "I don't want any calls today. I don't care who it is." Tina said nervously. "Um... I don't think this person is going to go away, Al. She said that she made this appointment fifteen years ago???" Tina sounded completely and utterly flustered. "She says she's the Assistant Director for the FBI????" "I'll be right out," Al said, jumping out of his chair. Now, to Starkweather, Al looked exactly the same as he did when she saw him last. But to Al, she had changed, extraordinarily. She was still slender and youthful-looking. She still wore her uncompromising black business dress suits. However, she no longer had the deceptive guise of a teenager. There were one or two crow's feet by her hazel eyes. Her hair was no longer Rapunzel-long and dyed blonde, but shoulder length and dark brown. Only the gold wire eyeglasses and the few strands of silver at the temple of her hair betrayed her age of forty-four years. Her voice, however, was as strong and yet feminine as ever. "Admiral Calvaricci?" She still had that Sphinx-smile, that sense of mystery. "Agent Starkweather," Al said. "My, you've grown up." "With all due respect," her smile dissolved into the trademark Starkweather smirk. "it's Assistant Director Starkweather now." She held out her hand. As Al shook her right hand, he noted that her left hand no longer bore a wedding ring. "Well, Admiral, you said to look you up in fifteen years and you'd explain everything." Al clasped his other hand over hers. "Yes, yes I did... Assistant Director." "Funny, you don't look any more angelic as you did when I saw you last." Her eyes twinkled in delight. "I thought I was ready for the funny farm when you popped in, you know." "I know, I know," Al groaned. "And I'll explain everything to you." "Well... before you start... I'd like to have you meet some people first... you see... we figured out a lot of things on our own before coming here... but there's still some gaps." Al wondered as he followed Starkweather to the outer waiting room. "I found him," Starkweather said to the man sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper. And Deputy Director John Doggett stood up. Still tall, still had those brilliant blue eyes, although he also wore eyeglasses now. Although he was lucky enough to have kept his hair, it had faded from it's coppery-yellow hue. He also now sported a neatly trimmed goatee. He was still a good-looking man, albeit it, obviously, an older man. Al thought as he shook Doggett's hand. "Admiral," Doggett also still never shed that gravelly New York-Deep South hybrid accent. "Good to see you again... though I must confess, I really don't remember much of our first meetin'." "That's alright," Al said. "I'll remind you of every humiliating detail." "Oh good," Doggett deadpanned. "Kids, come here," he called. "Kids?" Al asked. A boy and a girl, both the same age, looking to be about twelve, left the television set they were avidly watching and joined the adults. "This is our son," Starkweather put her hand on the boy's shoulder. "John Benjamin." "Hi," the boy said brightly. And Al realized that he was looking at what Mulder must have looked like when he was a boy. A mop of unruly brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes. No trace of shyness whatsoever. "And this," Starkweather put her other hand on the girl's shoulder. "Is our daughter, Bailey Fox." "Mom, **please** don't tell strangers my middle name," she whispered, mortified. "It's embarrassing." Bailey was the spitting image of John Doggett. Same curly shiny blond hair, although she wore hers considerably longer than her father. Same brilliant piercing blue eyes. She even spoke with the barest trace of a Southern accent. "Looks like you two have some things to tell me too," Al said. "Ziggy left some things out in her diagnogstics." "Ziggy?" Starkweather crinkled her brow in confusion. Al companionably put his arm through Starkweather's. "I'll explain... let me give you a tour." When they got to the "holding" chamber, they all stopped. "Is this??" Starkweather started to ask, but stopped. Al answered her unasked question. "Yes. Sam's body is in there, but not Sam's soul. Sam hasn't found someone to switch souls with yet, so the body is in suspended animation, so to speak." Doggett was looking around. "Some of this looks familiar." "I wouldn't have believed this if I wasn't here right now," Bailey said. John Benjamin aka JB scoffed at his twin sister "You never believe anything until you see it anyways. You're worse than Aunt Dana." "Kids," Doggett said in his quiet authorative tones, "zip it." The twins immediately fell silent. While everyone else hung back, Starkweather walked up to the two-way mirror, that Doggett-in-Sam had broken days ago. It was repaired now. Starkweather looked through the glass and saw a handsome man with sandy- brown hair with one lock gone gray. Starkweather put her hand on the glass. "Thank you Sam...." she whispered before Al led her away to explain the past to her and her family. **THE END**