Headers and Disclaimers in Chapter One

Chapter 19 of 20

Mulder saw three security guards come out the side
door, touched Skinner's arm and nodded. The AD lifted his chin: he 
saw them too.  The three seemed to walk in order of age: the youngest 
guard followed by a paunchy middle-aged one, then an older-looking man 
with a mustache.  The AD nodded to Mulder.  For a moment the three 
paused, silhouetted against the side door they just exited.

"It's gittin' colder," said Bernice through Jon's mouth.  Jon carried a 
white envelope, which he slipped into the mailbox and, for flourish,
raised the red flag.  Mulder detected a slight movement; the person in 
the shadows crept closer.  The three security guards lingered a minute 
then started back inside. Jon hung back as though to check the 
mailbox. 

Mulder held up his hand for Skinner to wait, wait, wait.  The person 
in the shadows came closer to the trio of guards, his hand reached 
into his pocket.  Mulder grinned: Donaldson.

Then suddenly it wasn't the person in the shadows who commanded 
Mulder's attention.  Out of the corner of his eye Mulder saw the 
youngest security guard pulling his weapon out of the holster.

"This jest too easy, Scully." Bernice who was in Jon said to 
Tom, the man in the middle.  The voice carried and echoed in the brick 
and concrete canyon of building and parking lot.  Jon took a half step 
toward Tom.  "Too good to pass up."

Tom's eyes grew wide.  "Don't do this, Bernice.  These men - these 
bodies -- they're innocent people." Scully said in Tom's voice. 

Somewhere in the distance, sirens sang out a warning.

"Nobody innocent," Bernice said and the gun came out of the guard's
holster.  Her hatred twisted Jon's face into a malevolent mask.
The middle guard, Tom, did a macabre dance that appeared to be a cross 
between fumbling for his own weapon and falling to the ground. 

"Federal agents!"  Mulder yelled and leapt out of the portico.

The guard with the mustache whirled around to the youngest with the 
gun and cried: "No!"  

It happened as fast as thought.

Mulder saw the oldest guard twist around as though to shield the man 
next to him and cry out, "Dana!" 

"Drop it," Mulder hollered just as Donaldson raised his gun and fired 
at the old man.

Two or three shots reported, answered by shots from the FBI agents.
Scully yelped in Tom's voice and Tom went down grabbing his shoulder.  
George's mustache grazed the top of Tom's head as they fell together, 
and after that, in a surreal ballet, Jon with Bernice in him hit the 
grass next to the pavement.  Donaldson, a stunned look on his face, 
sat down on the grass with one hand to his face.

"Hands where we can see them!" Skinner shouted again as he and Mulder 
reached the mailbox. Skinner kicked Donaldson's gun away from 
where the man sat holding a bloody cheek.

"I'm hurt! I'm hurt!" wailed Henry Donaldson.

From a distance flashing red lights raced up the street across the night 
and poured at last into the parking lot.  Sirens now split the dark into 
silence and chaos.  Car doors slammed.  

Police officers jumped from their cars and voices shouted, "Police!" 
and "Drop your guns!"

Skinner yelled, "Federal agents" again and held up his ID.  The hand 
that held the badge dripped blood.  "Get some ambulances!"

"Scully!"  Mulder switched on his flashlight and shone it quickly in 
the faces of all the guards.  Jon was clearly dead with at least three 
bullet wounds in chest, neck and abdomen.  George moaned and moved so 
Mulder stepped over him quickly to Tom.  He only had a wound in his 
shoulder but he was gasping for breath and twitching as though he were 
having a seizure.  "Scully!"

"Can't hold..him."

"Get out!"

"Mulder..!" Tom's head went side to side as though he were trying to 
rid himself of something.  Mulder threw the flashlight down and 
grabbed Tom's face.

The man's beard stubble scrapped across his palms.  "Scully, come to 
me.  Now.  I'm right here.  I'm willing.  Come now!"  Mulder stared 
into Tom's eyes.  Blue, like Scully's.  Searching.  Open. Like 
Scully's.  The pupils got smaller.  He reached for her with all his 
heart and soul, willing her to come to him.  "Scully!"

And she was there. In him.  He felt her warmth infuse him. They both 
knew some relief. A sense of peace and well-being.  He could tell she 
was tired and scared.  She rested in him a moment before they both 
thought, "Amelia Peterson."

Mulder left Tom in the care of a policeman who had appeared at his 
elbow. Mulder switched on his flashlight and shone it into the  
face of Henry Donaldson.  He looked dressed for a business meeting.

Behind them, Tom vomited.

"Amelia Peterson," Mulder said, pushing one of the policemen away.  "Are 
you Amelia Peterson?"

Donaldson's eyes flashed up in surprise; he moaned as though in 
horrible pain.  The policemen beside him looked alarmed.

"Picture, Mulder.  Where's the picture you took from storage," Scully 
said.

Mulder searched his pockets and finally found it.   He thrust it in 
Donaldson's face and shone the flashlight on it.

"Look here.  Amelia.  Sgt. Amelia Peterson.  Look."  At Scully's cue 
he pointed to the people, "Here's your mother, your daughter Zelda.    
your grandson, Scott.  You should be standing there between your 
mother and Zelda, Amelia Peterson.  Zelda's here.  Over there.  She's 
been looking for you."

"Zelda?"  Donaldson's mouth moved, but the name that fell out of his 
lips was soft, questioning.  Donaldson's eyes widened and he screamed,  
"Oh, God!  Zelda!"  Donaldson tried to struggle to his feet. Mulder 
helped him stand and together they stumbled over to where the fallen 
security guards lay.  An ambulance, then two, screamed into the 
parking lot.

Skinner had knelt and elevated George's upper body to help him 
breathe.  The AD pressed a handkerchief into the chest wound, but the 
white cloth had already stained bright red.  He looked at Mulder and 
shook his head once, almost imperceptibly. 

"Mom?" It was a whisper, more like a gurgle from the older man's lips. 

For a moment the world stood still: no one moved, breathed or even 
blinked it seemed to Mulder.  Then Donaldson's face soften, twisted, 
tears came to his eyes and Amelia broke free.

"Zelda?  Baby?"  Amelia, living in Donaldson, knelt beside George and 
kissed him.  George pulled back, Amelia touched the mustache and  
giggled.  "Oh, Zelda." The voice sounded like Donaldson's only an 
octave higher.  

Zelda in George stared into Donaldson's green eyes - the eyes of her 
mother -- and took Donaldson's hand.  "Mom, I got your book.  I 
read it.  I learned it!"  Zelda's words sounded strange as George's 
lungs filled with fluid.

Amelia, firmly in control of Donaldson now, began to sob, reached out 
and grabbed George off Skinner's lap into a tight embrace.  "I'm 
sorry. "I never knew it was you. Never! God, I swear. Baby-"

"Bernice," George's mouth moved, but they were Zelda's words.
"She knew. She knew and she never said. All that time I looked --"

Donaldson's head nodded and stroked George's hair. Amelia spoke 
through Donaldson. "I'm so sorry, baby. I love you.  I should never have 
sent you that book.  Never taught Henry.  Never come home."

"Go back, Zelda," Scully said through Mulder's mouth.  "Now!"

"Mom, mom." Zelda buried George's gray mustache in Donaldson's neck 
and coat collar.  Zelda's voice that sounded as George's was muffled 
in the fine wool.

"Go, Zelda!" Scully yelled through Mulder.  "Get out while you can!"

"Mulder!" Skinner grabbed his agent's coat sleeve. 

"Go, Zelda!" 

"He's not going anywhere, Agent Mulder," Skinner said.  "He's dead."

"Then she got out," Mulder heard Scully say.  "She left in time!"

"Noooo." It was Donaldson's body but clearly Amelia who cried and 
wailed, rocking the dead security guard's body in his arms.

Mulder glanced up.  Skinner's jaws ground together and his face was a 
tortured mix of disbelief, sorrow and disgust.  "They don't see 
themselves as they are, in these bodies," Mulder told Skinner.  "They 
see a mother and a child."

"Are you sure, Mulder?" Skinner said, shaking his head.  "Because this 
is..."
**************************************
Mulder watched an ambulance, then two pull out of the parking lot.  He 
surveyed the wreckage of the walkway, grass and shrubs around the 
mailbox.  Two dead, one wounded and Amelia locked in Donaldson - both 
of them most probably insane.

"Innocent blood," Mulder said.

"No one's completely innocent," Scully said.

"Go back now, Scully," said Mulder. He started to the car, but Dallas 
intercepted him.

"Whoa," said Dallas.  "Sorry we didn't make your party. I got held up at 
the pet store with that fruit loop and his wife."

"What?"

"I was on my way here when the short guy..Frohike called.  Couldn't 
reach you," Dallas said.  "He was watching the pet store."

"And?"  Mulder could feel Scully's impatience burn hot in the center
of his forehead.

"You might wantta get a search warrant."

Occupied with his headache, Mulder would have shrugged it off, but 
Scully stopped him.  "Why?"

"Man won't talk to us.  Neither will his wife.  But they're hiding 
something. Trust me on that one, partner.   Frohike was 
watching the pet store and here it is after ten and this 
special messenger service delivers a package," Dallas said.  "I went to 
ask them about it and they got quiet as mice in a barn.  Defensive.  
I figured I'd let you press 'em if you think it's worth it."

Mulder could feel an idea forming.  He sensed the same thing in Scully.
"I have to do something first.  Ask AD Skinner to get the warrant and 
I'll meet you there in two hours or so." Mulder jogged to the car.  "What's 
he hiding?"

"If what you remember  -- what I see here -- about the pet store is 
correct, it's not Donaldson who's hiding something," said Scully.  
Mulder hit the accelerator and gravel spun out as he left the parking 
lot.  "You're wasting fuel accelerating like that."

"I hate a backseat driver," he said aloud.

"I'm hardly in the back seat.  All those years, Amelia only broke 
through once in a while.  Living in a man like Donaldson.  I'm sure 
his mind wasn't as interesting as yours.

"I didn't quite realize you had such a dirty mind," Mulder said.

"Medical reviews, Mulder.  Illustrated anatomy texts. Look here at 
these neat squares of black and white. I never pictured you as 
thinking inside a box."

"Scully, Donaldson didn't know the pet store couple.  They had
to be a friend of Amelia's.  They must have some history with her."

"Agreed.  All those years in that..Donaldson.  She must not have had 
many friends. It's - liberating to have friends. I'd forgotten - Mulder, 
what? Is that guilt? Not for me.  This is not your life.  I'm an adult; 
my choices, not yours." 

"It seems to be my life now too - very literally." Mulder said aloud. 
He checked the interstate sign as he passed under it.

"I didn't know I missed it until I had it," she said as though his 
thoughts didn't matter. 

"You can't ignore me and hope this will go away, Scully. That's not
how it is right now."

"-thieves, forgers, murderers. My friends. I always heard you were 
known by your friends -- Mulder! What kind of idea is that over there?  
I am shocked."

"Hey! You're a guest - stay out of there. Think about these pet 
storeowners. Amelia was empathetic to the plight of women, children, 
the underdog, and the downtrodden.  She forced Donaldson to put money 
in low revenue-producing companies that served such groups.  You 
should see his investment portfolio - the one protected with layers of 
legal goo and dummy corporations."

"And-"

"And, as you can see, I haven't a clue how it matches."

"Don't you see how it meshes with what I know about the inmates and 
their families?" she asked.

"Yeah, but how --"

And they thought together: "Amelia".

"She arranges it," Scully said. "She and the pet store owners who are
people from her past.  You knew they were neighbors?"

"Families stationed at the same post -- you can see it didn't registered 
with me until now.  I couldn't tell if that was coincidence or---'

"Mulder?"

"Scully-?"

"Zelda would tell you there is no coincidence,  only God choosing to 
remain anonymous."

"She made it out," Mulder said.  "She could have made it out."

"Yeah."

And his thoughts surrounded her, petted her, lifted her up to keep her 
from becoming mired in his own sadness.

"I'm very happy right now," she said.

"I see that. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane." He turned off the
interstate onto the state road.  It was very dark and windy.  Thunder 
rumbled in the distance.  The trees illuminated in the headlights 
turned their leaves over to catch the promised rain.

"Prison...I never realized what it does, how it works-" she said. "It 
changes you before you-"

"I know. A few more days.."

"It's dehumanizing. Degrading. Things that are aberrant when you 
arrive are normal to you after only a few days."

Mulder stopped outside the prison gate. "Home sweet home."

"You didn't have to bring me close to my body.  That's not important,"
she said.

"I know, but-"

"-- you wanted to confront me with what I most fear," she said. 

"Go on.  I'll be here to pick you up right after school."

"Mulder, I want-want you to know something. I--"

"Scully, I've known for a long time, but--" he said aloud. 

"--but you were waiting for me to decide," she finished.

"Hmmm-m. Still, it's nice to see. To hear.  Go on now.  I want-"

"I see what you want." To Mulder's inner ear it sounded like a hum or 
a purr, like the sound she made as she slid down from a climax. "I am
not someone's house pet."

"It's my mind. Analogies are mine to make. These thoughts, memories 
are  mine to share or not - that's my choice." Mulder said. "Give me 
back that choice, Scully.  Get..."

"..out of here." A bright light made Mulder shield his eyes. "You can't 
park here and sleep, buddy. Go to a motel." In the light from prison 
walls Mulder could see the badge and dark uniform of a guard. He 
opened the car door and threw up.

"Damnit! You're not still drunk are you? You been here long enough to 
be sober. I been watching you talk to yourself for an hour.  Get the 
hell outta here," said the guard and walked away grumbling.

Scully was gone.  He checked his watch.  He must have slept over an hour.
Mulder smiled and put the car in reverse. He yawned.  He had never been so 
tired in all his life and miles to go before he could sleep.
**************
Skinner waited on the step below while Mulder rang the doorbell on the 
pet store, banged on the doorframe and called, "Hey! Hey in there."

At last lights came on in the store.  Mulder fumbled for his badge and 
flipped it open.  When the owner padded to the door clutching a 
bathrobe around him with one arm and carrying a cat in the other. 
Mulder pressed his ID to the glass of the door.

The door opened immediately.  "Can I help you with something?  What do 
you people want? I answered all those questions before.." The man 
squinted his eyes as though that, and not the glasses perched on his 
head, would improve his vision. "How did you know I live in the back?" 
The man seemed worried.  "It's the only way I can afford to rent in this 
zone. I know it's a zoning violation to live here, but-"

"We're not concerned about zoning, sir," said Mulder.  "An FBI agent 
is in trouble and I'm hoping you can help."

"We have a search warrant," Skinner said.

"A search warrant!  My God!"

"We'd rather you just handed it to us," Mulder said.

The man stroked the cat in his arms.  "Hand you what?" 

"The tape.  The VHS tape Henry Donaldson sent you."

The man and his cat took a few steps back, away from Mulder.  "I don't 
know a Henry Donaldson."

"Please," Mulder said.  He rather respected the man with the cat.  He 
thought he protected a friend. "Please. My partner.  She's in a lot of 
pain.  Donaldson left something here that can help."

"I don't know Henry Donaldson," the man said with a stubborn set to 
his jaw.  In fact, his teeth ground together as though the name 
Donaldson was distasteful. A monkey in a nearby cage shrieked.  A 
parrot cawed, "Good morning, good morning."

"My partner's been unjustly accused of a crime," Mulder said, then 
realized he was asking the wrong way for the wrong thing. "Maybe 
Amelia Peterson sent something for you to hold for my partner."

Mulder saw the flicker in the man's eye.  "What's her name?" the man asked 
with suspicion.
********
Noise in the prison woke her.  Loud noises.  Scully smacked her dry 
lips.  Her stomach rumbled.  She'd been flying.  She sat up.  Her 
mouth had a bitter taste in it.  She rinsed her mouth out in the sink, 
drank from cupped hands, and went to the door. "Guard! Open up." She 
bammed and banged and kept calling out.

The slit open.  "What's the matter with you?" said the guard.  "You 
sick?"

"I have to go to the cell.  To Zelda.  Now."

"Maybe you are crazy, Scully.  It's four in the morning.  Go back to 
sleep.  Or stay up.  Just shut up."

The slit closed but Scully kept on banging.  Now someone in the next 
cell screamed,  "Shut the hell up."

Scully paced back and forth.  Her muscles hummed with nervous energy.  
God! She hated this helpless feeling.  She hated confinement.  She 
tried to remember where her mind had been, what she'd been doing. All 
the details.  The memories only made her more anxious.

After a while she heard footsteps.  It could have been an hour later 
or two hours - Scully had no concept of time except it passed slowly.  
She heard lots of footsteps.  Running.  Running in her direction.  She 
backed away and the door bolt slammed out. The cell door clattered 
open.  

Outside stood Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner in FBI windbreakers.  
Scully sprang out of the door propelled by bent-up apprehension.  
"Zelda.  Bernice."

"Where?" Skinner said as they all ran down the hall.  Without breaking 
stride, Mulder peeled off his windbreaker with the huge yellow FBI on 
the back and tossed it around her shoulders. She put her arms in the 
sleeves although she knew they would be far too long.  She used 
elastic in the wrists to keep them pushed up her arms.

It was still dark outside and despite the emergency lighting, Scully 
thought it seemed black as hell in the bowels of the prison.  She led 
the way through the now familiar corridors and locked gates.  They 
suddenly melted away before her.  Down the narrow concrete hallway out 
of isolation and through the double locked doors the hollow clatter of 
footsteps from three agents rang out loud. Scully could hear labored
breathing in the hallways, blood singing through legs and arms.

In the main cellblock  she ran up the metal, winding stairs to the top 
floor.  Mulder and Skinner followed.

Scully pounded on barred doors, yelling: "FBI!  Open the gate!"  
Overhead she watched people with FBI letters on their backs pour into 
guard stations and up staircases.

The prison was alive with voices and sound.  Lights flickered on.  
Debris from prisoners began falling from the upper tiers as FBI agents 
many accompanied by prison guards - ran through the building to secure 
key areas.  Scully, Mulder and Skinner reached the top floor and 
headed to the far end of the corridor, to Bernice's cell and Zelda's.

As they started down the hall past the rec room, the women who stood
behind the locked bars there, the strikers, gaped in shock.

"Scully?"

She paused to stare for a second at Laquintia's face then rushed on 
down the corridor.

"Scullleeee!  Goddamn it!"

The women in the rec room began yelling, screaming, throwing things 
outside the bars, banging on anything they could find.

Hollering Scully's name with a litany of obscenities.

Scully stopped outside Bernice's cell first.  Inside, nothing moved.  
Scully twirled her hand in the air as the guards did,  but the door
stayed closed.  At the far end of the corridor the gate guard saw her
and hesitated.  Scully kicked the cell door and twirled her hand 
again.  Behind her Skinner mimicked her gesture.  The door slid open.

"What the hell?" Angela sat up in bed.

"Did she come back, Angela?" Scully said.

"She sleeping."

"She's not back?"

"She a sound sleeper," Angela protested, eyeing Scully's jacket and 
the men with her.

Scully reached up on the top bunk to grab Bernice's wrist. No pulse.  
She climbed on the bunk and felt the artery in the Bernice's neck.

"She's dead.  We have to remove the body."

"No.  You'll kill her. She be back and no body.  Scully--don't move 
her."

"She's dead.  The body she borrowed was shot.  She didn't make it out."

"No!"

Scully wheeled and left.  Angela followed to the door, but Skinner 
prevented her from going out. 

Angela grabbed the bars and followed Scully as far as she could, 
screaming, "Murderer. Don't touch her!  You'll kill her, Scully!" 
Angela began to wail.  "Leave her!"

Scully had barely reached her own cell door when it slid open.  Her 
heart seemed to bleed into her throat.  No movement.  No elf-like 
smile from the top bunk to greet her.  "Zelda?" Scully said when she
reached the bed.

Mulder and Skinner stopped just outside the door.  The noise grew more
and more deafening, but Scully didn't appear to notice.  She stood 
still, swallowed by Mulder's navy and yellow FBI jacket. A tentative 
hand peaked out from the oversized sleeves and reached over Zelda's 
body to her neck, felt for a pulse then lay flat on Zelda's chest.  
Mulder sighed and dropped his head. 

Outside, hairbrushes, combs, plastic drinking cups, books, magazines, 
pillows, blankets-anything and everything inmates could lay hands on 
- flew out of the bars and fluttered down the tiers or into hallways.

Above it all, the inmates chanted Scully's name and vile curses.

Mulder rubbed his bottom lip and glanced at Skinner.  "Get her out of 
here," Skinner muttered into Mulder's ear.  "Now."

Scully had not moved.  She stood with her hand on Zelda's chest to 
catch the slightest movement.

"Let's go, Scully," Mulder said.

"She's coming back."

"She didn't make it.  He died before she could get out," Mulder said.

Scully shook her head. She stood on the lower bunk, reached up and 
slid the black sleeping mask away from Zelda's face, then used her 
fingertips to close Zelda's eyes. Scully eased her feet back onto the 
floor.

Mulder shifted all his weight to one foot.  "Maybe she didn't want to 
come back."

Scully's head jerked up, looking at Mulder, listening.

"She found her mother," Mulder said.  "All she had to look forward to 
was more of this place.  Maybe she had done what she wanted to - and 
elected to fly free."

Only the profile of her cellmate's face had ever been visible to 
Scully from the floor, but now tears blinded her from seeing even that 
much.

"Everything I believed I was would have died here," Scully said.  "You 
kept me sane, she kept me alive."

"We have to get out of here," Mulder said.

"Don't let them move her for a few hours."

"Sure," he said.

Scully went to the sink, plucked Scott's photo from its corner 
slot in the mirror and tucked it in Mulder's jacket pocket.

Scully didn't appear to even hear the catcalls, screams and threats 
against her as she, Mulder and Skinner hurried down the metal 
staircase.

But there was a hitch in her step when paramedics brought two gurneys
in the main cellblock area.

"I'll talk to them, Agent Scully," Skinner said.  "You and
Agent Mulder get out of here."

"I'd better drive," Scully said to Mulder. "You look like you could 
use some sleep." 

He flipped her the car keys and the main gate to the prison opened 
wide before them.

It wasn't over; Mulder could see that the next morning.  He hadn't 
expected her to spring back; that wasn't the Scully way.  She had to 
sort things out.  He gave her some space, even made a half-hearted 
offer to drive her to her mother's. That earned him the first hint of a 
smile.  He had kissed the smile off her face in a not-too-subtle 
attempt to persuade her to return completely and fully.

She couldn't.

Mulder didn't push.  He took her home, watched her wander around the 
apartment, touching her things and trying to reconnect with the person 
she was.  He sat outside the door as she soaked in bubble baths that 
seemed to take hours.  He left her alone while he shopped for 
groceries and was surprised to hear the thunderous boom of rock music 
seeping out from under the doorframe when he returned.  She shut it 
off as soon as he came in.  Neither commented.
*******************************************
According to the newspapers, the prison stayed in lock-down for two
days.  Scully tried to imagine what she would have been like
after two days in her cell.  She thought of each pod member, how
they would react to their new lives, how they would fare now.

How they must hate her.

She didn't seem surprised to open her door and find Clare Otis.  It 
was as though she anticipated the knock on her door.

"Dr. Scully, I'm sorry to intrude," Clare Otis said.

"No, it's fine.  Come in." Scully said.  She felt awkward.

"You left without saying good-bye," Clare said.  She stayed in the 
hall with her feet planted shoulder width apart.

"I intended to come by later," Scully said.

"No, you didn't.  You intended to put this as far behind you as fast 
as you can," Clare said.

Mulder appeared behind Scully quietly, but he frowned and his hands 
went to his hips.

"You left a mess behind," Clare said as if she hadn't seen Mulder.

Scully said nothing.

"Liars and con artists - all of you, " Clare said with an exasperated 
sigh. 

Scully took it.  She hung her head and took it. 

Mulder sounded as though he was shocked into saying, "Agent Scully did 
her job."

"Dr. Scully left her job unfinished." Clare said.  "I don't dispute 
your heroism or even your methods.  I don't even mind that you didn't 
trust me - okay, I'm a little hurt.  I'll get over it.  But what you 
did to Angela, Laquintia, Mary, all those women in your pod.  Lady, 
that's cold."

"During an undercover operation it is very seductive to-" Scully began.

"You were grateful at the time. At least have the decency to admit it. 
You were grateful to them - to all of them. They were family to you."

"-- and I betrayed them. That's how they see it."

"That's how it is," Dr. Otis said. "You weren't the first nor probably 
the last. I just thought you could do some good there." She seemed 
deflated as she turned to go.

"I am very appreciative of your interest in me and your faith in me 
even when I obviously deserved neither," Scully said.

"How nice," Dr. Otis said.

"I'll be glad to assist you in the clinic." 

"I don't want your help!" Scully jumped involuntarily. "I never needed 
it - surely you see that now. But you needed to be there. You had to 
have something to hold to."

Scully nodded her head. 

"Then what are you going to do, Dr. Scully? Let the law take its 
course here? Forget about those women - you have a right to do that.
Send them a nice note? Don't bother. Stand up for them in court? 
Please-."

Scully worried the hem of her shirt. 

"Things will be back to normal tomorrow.  They're going to let us 
clean out your cell - everything being released to family and heirs.  
You're Zelda's only beneficiary; she asked me to witness it several 
weeks ago.  You can come claim what's yours--if you want," Clare said. 
She turned on her heel and left without another word.

Scully closed the door and leaned her forehead on it.  When she 
finally stood and looked around Mulder sat on the arm of the couch.  
He didn't say anything; his face betrayed nothing.  But his eyes 
shone.

"I have to tell you something," she said.

"I'm right here," he said. "I've pretty much been here all along."

She saw his hands, those gentle fingers, wide palms, clasped loosely 
in front of him.  Waiting. Patiently.  She went to him, because she 
wanted to feel those hands on her when she told him she was going to 
be the mother of a small boy.