TITLE: Almost Home (4/?)
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary,
etc.
SPOILER WARNING: Seventh season episodes through Requiem.
RATING: NC-17 (Most of the story is rated R, NC-17 parts will be
clearly marked)
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: SRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: Post ep for Requiem. Mulder comes back... but he's
missing something.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
NOTE: Thanks to my great beta readers Char, Keleka, Lisa, Paulette,
and Teresa.

Almost Home (4/?)
By Shoshana

February 20th, 2001
Tuesday
4:15 p.m.

Scully shifted in his arms and lifted her head from his chest so she
could place a soft kiss on his cheek. He shyly reciprocated with a
light peck to her forehead. Even after the heartfelt declaration
he'd just made, he felt a little awkward about pressing her for any
more intimacy beyond kisses.

It didn't seem proper, somehow, since he still didn't have any clear
memory of being with her physically. Mulder only knew he belonged
here, with Scully, with their developing child. Whatever evolved
between them would be totally natural, blossoming as they spent more
time in each other's company.

There was no reason to rush into a situation for which neither of
them was prepared. She'd missed him so much the last five months,
but she didn't feel compelled to hasten their physical reunion. To
tell the truth, she felt a little self-conscious about her pregnant
physique. That, coupled with the fact Mulder couldn't remember what
she looked like before her pregnancy, gave her pause.

She knew it had never been just sex between them; they'd bonded
spiritually and mentally long before they'd become lovers. She
sensed he was arresting his own desire now for similar reasons. Or
maybe he was just being exceptionally polite. It was in accordance
with what she knew of his character; he'd never demanded more than
she could offer him, even when she knew damn well he was falling in
love with her.

She suddenly felt confined by the four walls of his dimly lit
apartment. They'd been a constant comfort to her all the time he was
missing. Now he was home, she wanted to leave her cozy retreat
and catch the last rays of sunlight from a nearby park bench.

She pulled back from him a little and said, "Why don't we get out of
here for awhile, Mulder? I'm sure the rest of your journal will be
there when we get back. I'd like to take a walk and stretch my legs.
I spend too much time off my feet and behind a desk as it is."

Mulder smiled and brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips, his
eyes conveying agreement. He stood up, chivalrously offering her his hand.
She took it, more than gladly; it was nice to have his help after so
many weeks of struggling to her feet on her own. He wasn't being
oversolicitous; he was just being Mulder. And she was delighted to
have him home.

*******
An hour later

Mulder shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for
Scully outside the women's restroom in the park. He'd discovered
earlier in the day just how often expectant women take bathroom
breaks, so this stop was not unexpected.

The day had proven remarkably nice for February, no snow on the
ground and reasonably dry, but a brisk breeze was beginning to pick
up, scattering stray bits and pieces of dead leaves and random debris
in a swirling path before them. He wanted to get back to his
apartment so he and Scully could have something warm to drink and
continue to become reacquainted with each other.

Scully had already made an appointment for him to see Dr. Heitz
Werber tomorrow afternoon, and he anticipated the session with a
mixture of hope and dread. He'd been to the hypnotherapist many
years ago, in early attempts to recover memories of the night his
sister was abducted.

Scully hadn't told him whether or not she knew of Samantha's fate.
He suspected she did, and it wasn't something he wanted to get into
on their pleasant walk through the park. Even though it was fast
approaching twilight, the paths were well lit and quite a few people
were jogging or strolling in their winter garb.

It felt so normal; so typically suburban. He and the missus out for
an evening stroll. Of course, she wasn't his wife. Not quite yet.
And they weren't ordinary people. He'd just been returned from alien
hands, possibly from the bowels of a spaceship, and tomorrow he was
going to undergo hypnotic regression to discover what had destroyed
his memories.

He was interrupted from his study of the ground by a sudden shift
in the shadows around him. He looked up to find a man with cat-green
eyes not ten feet away from him, watching him closely. Mulder
didn't recognize the man, but he knew instinctively this was someone
malevolent. The man's gaze was venomous; obviously this was not one
of his FBI pals.

Mulder returned the man's stare as he surreptitiously inched the hem
of his black leather jacket away from his hip, revealing a SIG in its
holster. He was damn happy he'd insisted on bringing it. It wasn't
the gun he'd had when he was abducted. He didn't have a clue where
that one was.

He'd been returned with all his personal possessions, wallet, credit
cards, etc., but not his weapon. This was the first gun he'd ever
been issued, and he'd apparently kept it around after receiving a
newer model. He'd remembered where this one was, and loaded the clip
before they'd left for their walk.

Mulder and the strange man continued their staring contest for
several long minutes before the other man finally moved closer.
Mulder noticed a flash of synthetic material between the edge of the
man's black glove and the hem of his coat sleeve. He knew who this
was.

This was Krycek, the man who had lost his arm in Russia, the man who
had aided and abetted in Scully's abduction. The man who may have
killed Mulder's father, may have stood by as Melissa Scully bled to
death on Scully's hardwood floor.

He wanted to kill the bastard, but checked the impulse, mindful of
Scully's close proximity, and the public setting. He put his hands
on his hips and spoke first, anxious to demonstrate he wasn't at all
cowed by this knave.

"Can I help you?" he drawled sarcastically.

Krycek remained silent, not because he didn't have a smart ass
retort on the tip of his tongue, but because Scully emerged from the
washroom.

'If looks could kill,' was not a tired cliche this time. She
quickly observed the tableau, taking in Mulder's stance, his gun on
his hip, his overall attitude.

Krycek had his hands in plain sight and made no movement for a
weapon. She eyed him carefully, then asked, "What are you doing
here, Krycek? Haven't you done enough harm already?"

Krycek smiled deviously, scratching the ground with his toe and
calmly avoiding her steely glare.

"Contrary to popular opinion, Agent Scully, I had nothing to do with
Mulder's abduction."

"Hell," he snorted, then continued, "If I'd known that Wonder Boy
was going to stick his hand in the wrong place again, I would have
warned him to be more careful."

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that, Krycek?" Scully replied
coolly.

Mulder hung back, a little alarmed at her use of profanity. It
seemed so uncharacteristic of her. But he'd only been around a
deliriously happy Scully since he'd returned to DC, not the callous
Federal Agent she was on the job. Diana had been tough too,
especially when it came to defending her own.

He already knew Scully was definitely not some delicate flower,
even in her present condition. He'd gathered as much from reading
his journal-- but seeing was believing and he'd become a true
believer in the last few minutes. Why should he think anything else?
Especially after all the tragedy she'd endured while partnered with
him.

His head was preaching patience, while his Y chromosomes were
kicking in with a vengeance, commanding him to protect this woman,
his woman. He swiftly moved in front of her, one hand shielding her,
the other unholstering his gun.

"Mulder!" she protested behind his back. Goddamn his machismo, she
thought. She knew she could hold her own in a war of words with
Krycek. And that's all Krycek was anymore, full of blathering
threats. At least, that's what she'd chosen to believe. He hadn't
approached her once in all these months Mulder had been lost to her.

Krycek grinned snidely, mildly surprised at Mulder's protectiveness.
He'd imagined the aliens had done something to Mulder's brain over
the last few months, but he didn't think Mulder would pull a gun on
him so soon. He had anticipated a few minutes grace period. After
all, they'd been almost cordial the day he'd left for Bellefleur with
Skinner.

"I thought you'd at least give me a chance for a few words before
you took a shot at me, Mulder," Krycek smirked. "I have a warning
for you. Both of you. But I won't tell you a thing unless you put
that gun away."

He stepped back slowly, his hands in plain sight. It was a
reasonable assumption by the two agents that he'd had something to do
with Mulder's disappearance. But it wasn't true. He hadn't known
about the anomalous brain activity in all the other abductees.

Krycek was aware Mulder had experienced aberrant brain waves during
his illness in October 1999. But he didn't have access to other
patients' charts, and the Smoking Man hadn't filled him in. He'd
only discovered the similarities later, by bugging the X-Files office
one day. The listening device was found the next day by one of her
three fine friends, but he'd already gathered enough useful
information to know how to proceed with his own plans.

He chuckled to himself. They misunderstood his mission. He wasn't
here maliciously. He was here to help them, to warn them of the
danger they and their child were in. They would collaborate with him
eventually. They'd have to if they wanted to survive.

Mulder eyed him suspiciously, noting Krycek had backed away, making
no threatening movements with his hands. He put his gun back in its
holster, but left his hand on his hip. He didn't protest when he
felt Scully move alongside him, glancing at her briefly to see if she
approved.

She did, giving him a weak smile. She then turned her attention to
the man a few feet away. "What do you have for us, Krycek?"

"I know you'll find it hard to believe. Both of you will. But I'm
here to warn you. There are people interested in you. Survivors of
the old Project, loyal to no one but themselves. They know about the
baby. As soon as the baby is more or less viable-- "

He was interrupted by Mulder's hiss, "Viable? They're waiting till
it will survive outside the womb?"

Scully turned away from both of them, hand clasped tightly over her
mouth. Recently, her nightmares had been filled with horrendous
images-- men in white coats, slicing open her belly, stealing her
child. For years she'd had terrifying dreams about her own
abduction, dreams she'd never remembered in entirety. Alarming
afterimages of the violation of her body continued to haunt her,
embellished now with this new, more hideous aspect.

These fresh terrors were more abominable than anything she'd ever
experienced before. There'd been no one around to wake her, soothe
her, whisper to her softly, while Mulder was gone. Even when they
hadn't been involved with one another, he'd rescued her from
nightmares-- rocking her to sleep after he'd heard her cry out from
the next motel room. He'd always been ready to listen when she'd
called him in the middle of the night, unhinged by another
frightening vision.

And there'd been no one to allay her fears, to tell her the
nightmares would never come true. She hadn't even been able to tell
her mom, not wishing to upset her, too. Scully was trembling
involuntarily, reliving her dread. She heard Krycek begin to speak
again and felt Mulder's hand on her shoulder. She turned back
around, trying to contain her emotion.

"Yes. The baby will be special. You've both been exposed to alien
viruses. You both have immunity to them. Mulder has vestiges of
alien DNA in his bloodstream, no matter what Cancer Man tried to
remove from his brain. I'm not sure about you, Scully. I've never
been able to steal your lab results. I guess I'm good, but not that
good," he cackled. "You'll have to believe me on this. You don't
have to consider me a friend. Just consider me a concerned citizen."

Mulder couldn't follow all of this. Alien DNA, the Smoking Man took
something from his brain, exposure to viruses-- not finishing his
journal this afternoon had put him at a disadvantage. Determined to
keep his secret from Krycek, he decided to shut up and let Scully
take it from here. He wasn't disappointed by her performance.

"Even if I give you the benefit of the doubt, Krycek, and believe
half of what you've just said, what do you expect us to do? Run away
to some South American country? Refuse to fight colonization? Cut a
deal with the bad guys so they'll let us live in peace? Just what do
you suggest we do?"

Scully's voice had gotten progressively louder as she railed at
Krycek. She struggled to maintain control, her anger overwhelming
her customary reserve. Part of her was screaming at herself: this
is no good for the baby, it's no good for you, just get away from
him. She knew that wasn't possible. She would have to hear him out;
he might be just be telling the truth.

"I don't know. I can't tell you what to do. I only suggest you
think about what I've told you. Go away somewhere and talk about it.
I'd offer you my help, but I'm quite sure you don't trust me. I'm
just the messenger. Not your assassin."

His last words were spoken softly, a tone of regret seeping through.
All present knew the underlying significance of his remark. There
would always be doubt about Krycek's role in their family members'
deaths. His loyalties would always be questionable.

But if Krycek's warning was true, if the baby was marked for
removal, kidnapping, whatever nefarious fate the shadow men had
designed for him, they had little time to dwell on Mulder's memory
loss. It was the least of their problems now.

fin

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