Category: case file, MSR, RST, and some angst.
Rating: R +
Summary with part 1

***

I picked up the cell phone on the second ring.  "Hello?"

"Scully, it's me."  Mulder's G-man voice took me aback.  Months away
from the FBI had allowed me to become a little more personable.  At
least I said 'Hello' now, and often 'Goodbye' too.  He felt the
strangeness and reeled it in a fraction.

"How's Charlie?"

"She's fine, great."  I smiled.  I had been surprised when Mulder
continued to call the baby by my brother's name; it was unlike him not
to attempt to bury my sorrows along with his own.  I found it strangely
sweet.  "I'd let you speak to her, but she's showering with Gabe."

He didn't comment on the fact that the possum didn't speak, and just
blew spit bubbles into the receiver.  Obviously the small talk was
over. "I've got something you need to see.  Dom found it."

"It being?"

"I can't tell you over the phone."

"About Charlie."  I was referring to my brother, as Mulder knew.

"Yeah."  I was surprised.  After eight months, I was beginning to
believe the trail was frozen solid.  I had almost resigned myself to
not knowing why four more members of my family had died.  Almost.

I thought about my patients.  "Do you want me to come in to DC?"

"No, I can meet you out in suburbia.  You working?"

"Yes.  Gabe has Imo."

"I'll come to your office then… if that's OK?"  It was odd that his
slightly hesitant question saddened me.  He was less sure of me than he
had been.

"Of course.  I'll be done about three or so."

"Good.  I have some things to look into.  Then I'll be there."

***

I left Dom behind when I went to visit the Gunmen.  It had taken a
while for them to warm to Scully, and Dom didn't have her natural… well
whatever it was that encouraged the ceaseless devotion of men like
Frohike, Langly and Byers, Skinner and Pendrell to name a few.
(Reasons for my devotion were not to be discussed at this time.)

In any case, the Gunmen were paranoid conspiracy theorists and I had to
respect these lifestyle choices.

Not unexpectedly the Gunmen provided me with the access I needed.
Embarrassing that the FBI should turn to three computer geeks for
information - but such is the way of this brave new world.  We searched
for any and all links between Charlie and Lanie Scully and Jim and
Alysia Pulver, Dom's murdered couple. Neither of the Pulvers was ever
in the navy.  Charlie had quit the navy and become a building
contractor.  Lanie was an accountant.  Jim was a senior paralegal in a
large law firm.  Alysia was a travel agent.  Charlie grew up all over
the country.  Lanie grew up in Pacific Grove, California.  Jim grew up
and remained in Denver, Colorado.  Alysia grew up in small town
Louisiana.  It was aggravating.

"Alysia Pulver's dad was military.  Walter Barnard," said Byers
eventually.

"Navy?"

"Nope, Special Forces."

"Contact with William Scully, Senior?"

"Give me a moment…" I walked around to look over his shoulder at the
screen.  "Can't find any."

"How about Lanie's dad.  Robert Duncan?"

"He was military too?"

"No idea."

There was another brief pause.  Then the screen flashed generously.
There was a connection.  Robert Duncan and Walter Barnard had served
together in the Special Forces.  I felt guilty because my first thought
was one of hope.  Incredibly this might not be about Scully.  Heck,
this might not be about me.  The relief that pattered through my
neurons was hardly appropriate to the circumstances.

***

I'm sure my reputation as a doctor of sensitivity and concern was
tarnished that day as I flew through my appointments. My last patient
had left ten minutes before the receptionist called to tell me with the
hint of a giggle that a Mr. Fox Mulder was here to see me.

"Hey Scully."

"Hi.  How are you?"

"Good.  You?"

"Fine."

It had been almost a month since I'd seen him.  As always I felt the
pain in him, and my joints ached with the need to trim his torn edges
and glue him back together.  Other parts of my body ached with a
different need.  But I had long ago learned to curb all of these
responses to his lean, charcoal suited form, and the man that lurked
beneath.

He closed the door quietly.

"I never suspected domesticity would suit you so well.  You make quite
the working mother."  His eyes left little doubt as to whether he
appreciated the svelte suit I had decidedly not chosen for his
benefit.

"Well, it's a combination of that and having a desk of my own," I
countered.  He gave me half a smile.

"And Charlie's fine?"

"Yep."  Mulder was playing this much more tentatively than he used to -
but the swarm of butterflies in my stomach objected to my requesting
the new information Mulder had uncovered.

"She's wonderful, perfect, always happy."  When I was away from her my
recollection was a little cloudy and she seemed faultless.

"And you?  You happy, Scully?"

I looked up at him and his serious gaze resonated in my lungs and
almost betrayed me into letting a river of Hallmark moments flood the
gates.  How can I be happy?  I miss you every second.  I can't breathe
without you…  But I'm not really a Hallmark kind of woman.  Still it
was impossible to brush that look away with a platitude.

"Mostly.  Sometimes.  Imogen makes me happy, and I don't mind working
here.  I've made friends.  Some.  Imogen makes me really
happy."

He made an unintelligible noise at the back of his throat.  I felt the
slow burn of his look low in my abdomen, and it made me business-like.

"You wanted to show me something?"

"Yeaah."  He drew it out lazily.  I could hear the 'I'll show you mine'
that he didn't bother to say and I rolled my eyes at him.  He grinned,
caught, then stepped up to the desk for show and tell.

His voice was quiet.  "Another couple was murdered six days before
Charlie's family were."  His gaze flickered to mine, reassuring himself
that I was coping adequately with the conversation.  I'd had ten
minutes alone to steel myself so I nodded.  "This couple, Jim and
Alysia Pulver, called someone at Lanie and Charlie's place a number of
weeks earlier."

"What was the connection?"

"Lanie's father and Alysia Pulver's father were in the same unit in
Special Forces."

"Oh."  Somehow it hadn't occurred to me that Lanie was involved at
all.  I knew it hadn't occurred to Mulder either.  It wasn't narcissism
- just statistical likelihood.  So many bad things seemed to revolve
around us that I'd almost forgotten evil could continue outside our
sphere.  Not that it made the end result any better.

"Do you know anything else yet?"

"Not really.  The Gunmen are looking into missions Captain Duncan and
Major Barnard were jointly involved in.  They're keeping their eyes
open for anything unusual.  I just wanted to fill you in about this
early on."

"Thank you."  We were silent for a moment.  Then we turned to one
another. Our movements and thinking mirrored, like synchronized
swimmers, synchronized swimmers in a mind numbing panic.  We were
clearly thinking the same thing.

Gabe… and Imogen.

There was no answer when we called my place.  There was, however, an
answer at the Gunmen's and the information they'd managed to piece
together did nothing to reassure us.

***

Scully streaked out of the car before I'd come to a halt.

"Gabe!"

I was three steps behind her.  We tumbled into the back yard. Scully
stopped abruptly and I almost steamrolled her.  Gabe was working on his
Harley, with Imogen rolling about happily in the grassed interior of an
enormous playpen. He looked up with a smile.

"Hey."

"You didn't answer the phone."  Scully was breathless.

"You can't hear it out here, Dane.  Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," replied Scully weakly.  "Sorry."

I was trying to be subtle as I replaced my SIG in its holster.  Gabe
eyed me a little warily.

"Hey Mulder.  It's been a while."

The only thing I didn't like about Gabe was that he got to spend more
time with Scully than I did.

"Yeah.  Too long."  I approached the playpen with caution.  There was a
time when Imogen Scully had hollered at the sight of anything that
moved, other than Scully or Gabe.  For now, she just looked up at me
sideways from her rather awkward position draped over an orange foam
building brick.  I glanced briefly back at Scully, who was leaning on
the porch railing in the sun, then ducked down to talk to her baby,
leaving Scully to do the dirty work.

"Hey Charlie."  The little gray-eyed monster considered me briefly then
made a fairly effective attempt to crawl over to the edge of her
pleasant little prison.  She grabbed the bars determinedly.

"She'll need a hand," said Scully quietly from behind me.  So I reached
in and helped her to stand.   She wobbled on her tiptoes as she smiled
at me, then tilted her head to one side speculatively.  It was her
adopted mother all over again.  I was of course a helpless slave.  I
wanted to take a photograph so I could pull it out and say - there!
This is why I'm bewitched.  This is why I follow Scully women around
the world and further - well at least, one Scully woman so far, and now
more than likely two.

I didn't know if this was good news or bad.  Maybe it wasn't even
news.

***

I watched with pleasure as my possum baby charmed the socks off six
feet of mistrust.  I suppose he was more than that - brilliant,
intense, passionate… and so on.  I clamped down on that thought and
walked over to Gabe.

"We need to talk to you."  I looked around and figured outside was
really as safe as anywhere.  I leaned against the Harley.  My suit
probably looked a little out of place but after living with a bike for
eight months I was comfortable.  Mulder stopped flirting with Imogen
and eyed the Harley and me discerningly.

"Never saw you as a biker chick, Scully.  Leather pants, leather
jacket.  It's so you."

Gabe interrupted this time.  "What's going on, Dana?"

"Do you know Alysia Pulver?"  Gabe frowned.  "She was Alysia Barnard
before she got married."

"Oh, sure.  She was an old family friend.  I think I saw her at Lanie
and Charlie's wedding."

"How about Jeff White… Jeff Hayes until his parents divorced?"

"Same deal.  We played together as kids."

"And Cynthia Aguirre, Socorro Aguirre, Ana-Lucia Aguirre?"

"Sure…"  Gabe narrowed his eyes.  No one said live-in biker techie
brothers-in-law were stupid, necessarily.  "This about Lanie and
Charlie?"

"Yeah."  I said softly.  "Gabe, in the last nine months almost all of
those people have been killed.  Them and their families with them."

"Jesus," he breathed.

I looked over at Imogen.  She had sensed the atmosphere and was
regarding us with trepidation.

Mulder continued for me.  "We haven't been able to find Socorro
Aguirre, so we can't confirm his survival."

"You think whoever this is will come after me too?"

"Yeah."

"And Imo?"

"They might not know she exists.  But yeah."  I moved to the playpen
and picked up the possum baby.  She clung to me more than usual.  I
took a moment to swell with secret pride.  She's an inordinately
intelligent girl.

Gabe spoke up.  "I know where Socorro Aguirre's living."

Mulder and I turned as one.  "Where?"

"Near Norfolk."

"Can you contact him?"

"No, I'd have to go there.  He's umm… shy."

"Then let's get going."  I spoke with certainty.  Mulder and Gabe
turned to look at me and the affixed baby.  I paused.  Gabe knew where
they were headed and Mulder was the FBI agent.  It made sense.  I tried
not to sulk.  This was the choice every super-hero mom had to make at
some time or other: the kid, or the rest of the world.  I sighed and
nodded.  "OK, fine.  Imogen and I'll be here."

"Will you be safe here?" asked Gabe, sensibly.

Mulder glanced at me and spoke gently.  "You can go to my place."

I thought about the havoc Imogen could wreak in a place like his,
particularly if she was in hurricane-baby mode.  I thought of the havoc
being in his place again could wreak on my closely guarded peace of
mind.  Hurricane Mulder.

"We'll be alright here.  It's more baby friendly - and they haven't
found us yet.  No reason to think they'll do so today."

Mulder looked at me doubtfully.  "I'll send Dom over to look out for
you."

"I'll be OK, Mulder.  I'm armed."

Gabe raised his eyebrows - he hadn't known I was maintaining weaponry
in the house.  I looked at him somewhat apologetically, not precisely
sure what he was thinking.  He responded with the warm gray glance I
had come to know well.  I briefly wondered whether Mulder had noticed
the unspoken language Gabe and I had developed.  My psychic talents
used to be reserved for him alone.

Of course he noticed.

"Right, we'll keep in touch, Scully."  I guessed he was planning to
send Dom over anyway, but I didn't protest further.

Gabe kissed Imogen and squeezed my hand before he headed toward the
car.  "Take care, Dana."

"You too.  I need you back."  I felt Mulder's dark look.  I had never
told Mulder I needed him.  I reached out and sent him messages with my
eyes - but our communications had become a little cloudy and it really
wasn't the time for semantics.

Imogen started sobbing as they drove away - little baby sobs that shook
her little baby body.

"It's OK, possum.  It's OK."

It was probably hunger, or boredom or a dirty diaper - but I felt like
she was channeling me.

^^^
***
 
 

Scully watched us leave.  It almost undid me.  Hours later I had this
indelible impression of her composed figure as she viewed our passage.
She was Penelope - or maybe some less romantic mythological heroine.

Gabe looked relaxed and comfortable.  Come to think of it, Gabe was the
kind of guy who always looked relaxed and comfortable.  I figured he
could stroll into a White House function in his leather jacket and
black jeans and no one would bat an eye.  His glance was unnerving, but
that was only because I'd seen how he looked at Scully.  It seemed
unfair to me that he had been by her side all this time – but I could
have chosen differently.  I could have visited more often.  Odd to
realize that even sublime relationships are so influenced by mundane
activity.

"Tell me more about Socorro Aguirre," I said, grasping at my FBI agent
status.

He didn't answer for a moment and I forced myself to remember that
Scully thought this man uncannily perceptive.  When he did speak it
wasn't to answer my brusque question.

"Y'know, before moving in with Dana and Imo I was on the move a lot.  I
don't think my name's been on a rental agreement for six or seven
years.  The work I do isn't tied to any place and the people I contract
for pay me through my holding company on the web.  It's a small company
– and when we incorporated in Delaware the front for the company was
this friend of mine, Kalia.  She died in a bike accident two years back
and I never changed the information.  We were kind of private people."

I heard the sadness in his soft voice.  I also got his point - Gabriel
Duncan would be difficult to find.

"Scully's on the rental agreement now, I guess."

He nodded.  "My mother always thought the way I lived would be the
death of me," he commented with irony.

We drove in silence for a time.  It occurred to me that this man had
lost as much as I had – and he hadn't been forewarned of it either.  I
wondered, probably unfairly, how he kept self-hatred at bay.  I
shouldn't assume that my response is the ideal.

"So, Socorro Aguirre?" I prompted.

"Yeah yeah.  OK.  Socorro's a little weird."  I made no comment about
pots and kettles – it's always been so hard to tell who has the market
on strangeness in my life.  "He lives in backwater Virginia in this
tiny place.  I have to say I hate that I'm taking you to him.  He's not
going to like it.  He has this thing about government agents"

Great.

As we pulled up outside Socorro Aguirre's tiny shack, I tried to rid my
mind of all G-man thoughts.  I wanted to give the impression that I had
never been inside the Hoover building.  Even better, I wanted to give
the impression I had never been anywhere near DC at all.

Gabe thumped on the door with one fist.  There was a long pause.

"Who is it?"

"It's Gabe Duncan, Socorro.  I need to speak with you."

The door opened a crack and the growl gained some direction.  "Who's
with you?"

"My name's Fox Mulder."

He eyed us speculatively.  "You're FBI."  I guess I'm not as good an
actor as I'd thought.  "I read about you somewhere.  Come on in."

Gabe's eyebrows twitched fractionally, but otherwise he gave no
indication of his surprise.  I followed him through the door.

***

I chose to ignore the dark gathering outside, and the fear gathering in
my limbs.  Instead, the possum and I took a bubble bath.  Steamy air
and a wriggling wet baby distracted one part of my mind from the
circumstances.  Distraction may be the better part of valor.  Of
course, I had my gun at hand.

Later, Imogen slept soundly.  Her foray into psychic baby seemed to
have ended, and she looked perfectly serene.  I headed into the living
room where I sat and watched the corners.  Dom had called and would be
heading our way once his own little ones were tucked up safe in their
beds.  Until then we were alone.

The cell phone trilled and I smiled in relief.

"Mulder?"  Before I'd finished the name I knew it wasn't him.  You
would think I might have learned.

"Agent Scully."  It wasn't a question so I didn't answer.  "You'll be
pleased to know that the little girl is safe.  He doesn't know she
exists."  I imagined the voice was attempting to reassure me, but it
wasn't working for him.  His next comment proved my instincts right.
"However, we know she exists.  And we would feel quite content to let
him know."

"Who are you?"  Not the most original question, but rather an essential
one.

"We were unfortunate witnesses to the sad activities in Santa Cruz."

"You called me then."

"Yes.  We want to help you.  We did some work on the hospital records
after the little one was born."

"So he can't find us."

"That is our hope.  However, as I said, we will tell him about her,
unless you agree to assist in one small matter."

I was silent.  Very few people safely navigate deals with disembodied
voices.

"We need you to prevent Agent Mulder from uncovering the perpetrator."

This was their 'small matter?  Frustratingly the voice couldn't sense
my raised eyebrows.  "And how do you suggest I do this?"  I didn't want
to indicate any acquiescence, but I couldn't think what else to ask.

"You will know what to do."

"I won't do it."  I spoke quietly, with little assurance.

"If you help us in this matter, we will not reveal the child's
existence.  Otherwise…."  The call was disconnected.  Clearly the
disembodied voice had a sense of the dramatic.

I sat for nearly an hour in dry-eyed silence.  My mind was skittering
between rational thought and an irritating panic.  Even while I
carefully considered my available options, the motives for the caller's
requests, the process of detection open to me, Imogen and Mulder
floated through my heart, tugging me in opposing directions.  Mulder,
probably my dearest friend, and possibly closer than that, whose trust
was so hard won and guarded so closely in my soul.  Imogen who was
eight months old, who needed my care, and who loved me unconditionally,
as I did her.  I had seen what this person could do to an ex-navy man
and his entire family.  And wasn't protecting Imogen the whole point of
this new life?

The choice might be less complicated than I hoped, but it left me
screaming internally.

I was pleased that I didn't start when Dom hammered on the door.  My
anonymous caller had added to my sense of security, even if not my
peace of mind.  I stepped aside to let Dom in.  He and I had always
given each other a wide berth.  I imagine he was afraid he might damage
me.  I was afraid that I might like him.

"Hi Sc… Agent Scully."  He was nothing if not sweet.

"You can call me Dana, Dom."

"Sure."  He smiled.  "How's your little baby doing?"

"She's fine, Dom, fine.  We both are."  He looked awkward standing on
the steps.  "Thank you for coming.  Please come in."

 I set Dom up in Gabe's bedroom for the night.  Gabe wouldn't mind, and
it was closer to Imogen and me than any other room in the place.

I glanced in at the possum baby as I headed to my room.  Awake she was
a delight - entertaining, challenging and almost always adorable - but
asleep all I could do for her was protect her from monsters, wherever
they lurked.

Even if in protecting her I created new monsters.

***

I was woken by the telephone.  It was not yet light but my first
thought was that Imo 2000 should have woken me by now.  I hit the talk
button as I hurtled out of my room.

"Scully, it's me."

"Mulder."  I entered the living room to find Imogen happily snuggled up
with Dom.  His size didn't seem to bother her as she cooed and flirted
outrageously.  I smiled at him.  Mulder was talking.

"I'm sorry, Mulder.  What did you say?"

"Are you and Charlie doing OK?"

"We're fine.  Dom's here.  What's going on?"

"We found the man we were looking for.  And we also found some
information."  I was glad Mulder was playing paranoid conspiracy guy
and not mentioning specifics.  Most likely someone was listening in.
"The other two guys are about to head for…."  A single separated moment
and then an explosion so loud in my ear I was almost knocked back.

"God, Mulder!"

There was a strangled noise and then.  "Scully, I'll call you back."
His voice sounded hollow in my head.

***

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