Achilles' Heel
fran58@wonderhorse.net
Part Three

Mulder stumbled the last few steps to the apartment door,
grateful for Scully's steady shoulder and the sturdiness of the
door frame.  The wood felt solid and familiar beneath his hand. 
Scully used her key and led him gently to the couch.

"I'm going to get you something for your headache, and maybe
some juice.  Do you have anything like juice around, Mulder?" 
Scully's voice, pitched low, felt like needles in his head
nonetheless.

He managed to mumble, "Maybe."

He remembered drinking whatever Scully gave him before
falling into a restless sleep.



Mulder drifted between sleep and wakefulness, fragments of a
conversation penetrating his consciousness.

The words were just a hair this side of quarrelsome.  He heard
Scully's low murmur, and though her tone was even, he knew
she was suppressing her annoyance.

The voices grew louder.

"... he really needs to see a doctor.  Maybe he'll go if you
suggest it.  He isn't listening to me."  Scully's voice.

"I'm sure I can take care of him just fine," Jo answered.  "It's
probably just the flu."

A short, aggravated, sigh from Scully.  "It may be.  But given
he hasn't been really well for months now, I think it would be
wise to get him to see a doctor.  Have some blood work done. 
I can recommend several.  I'll leave the names for you..."

The voices faded out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo twitched and scowled.  Scully knew the girl wanted to get rid
of her.  She was not, however, in the mood to be shifted easily.

"Look, Jo.  I know that you think I'm interfering, but, I'm not
going away anytime soon."

"We don't need your help.  Or whatever it is you're trying to do," 
Jo answered in a tight voice.

"Mulder *does* need help.  He isn't himself."  She looked with
concern at Mulder's sleeping form.

"Marsh was right.  You're just trying to sabotage New Light and
our relationship with Mulder. *My* relationship with Mulder."

"I'm still not sure what you're trying to accomplish," Scully said
in a low voice.  "But you can be damned sure I won't stop until I
figure it out."

Jo smirked at this.  "I think I've pretty much accomplished my
initial goal."  She glanced possessively at the sleeping figure on
the couch.

Scully ground her teeth together, ignored the remark, and
shook her head.  "You might think that you're going to separate
Mulder from his work, but you won't.  Eventually, he'll be drawn
back to it.  It's part of who he is."

"A part of who he was, maybe.  He's a different person now. 
He doesn't need you or his job to be complete," Jo folded her
arms.  "He has us now.  He has me."

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning Mulder failed to show for the OPR hearing was
sunny with above average temperatures for October.  Scully
sat at the long table; her dark suit felt confining in the warm
room.

"Agent Scully," the lone woman at the long table spoke
without looking up.  Scully noticed her suit was dark too, and
wondered if the other woman felt as constrained as she did. 
"Do you have any idea of the whereabouts of your partner,
or why he isn't here?"

Scully shifted in her chair.  Why did everyone assume she
had Mulder's life schedule memorized?  "No Ma'am, I don't."

The other woman frowned.  "Do you have any insight into
why Agent Mulder assaulted Special Agent Bitters?"

Inwardly Scully bristled, but she kept her face carefully
neutral.  Mulder and Agent Bitters had gotten into a shoving
match over something.  She still wasn't clear on the details, but
knew Bitters to be a difficult agent.  It wasn't the first time
Mulder had been overly physical with another Agent, but
apparently, tangling with a Section Chief's nephew was a
bigger misstep than an incident involving someone else.

Aloud she said, "No, none at all."

The woman lifted her eyes from the papers before her on
the table and fixed Scully with a look.  Apparently
satisfied she spoke,  "All right then, that will be all."

Relieved and annoyed at the same time, Scully pushed back
from the table and walked to the door.  Behind her she could
hear Skinner's voice, low and soft, asking for a moment.  He
followed her into the hall.

Skinner's white, normally crisp shirt was clinging to him. 
Obviously, he was warm too.  Idly, she wondered why the air
conditioning couldn't be turned on in October.

"Agent Scully, what the hell is going on here?"
                                   
"Sir?"

"This hearing was to review the facts of Agent Mulder's
suspension.  He should be here.  Why isn't he?"

"I couldn't say, Sir."

"Can't or won't, Agent?  What aren't you telling me?  Does
this have anything to do with that 'case' Mulder was working
on the side?"
                              
"It may have, I can't be positive," Scully said evasively.

Skinner fixed her with a sharp look.  "When you are positive,
Agent, be sure to let me know.  I would hate to lose Agent
Mulder.  He's a pain in the ass, but he's good."

Scully nodded.  "Yes, Sir, I'll do that."  She turned to go, but
Skinner caught her arm.  He smelled of cotton and
perspiration.

"Scully, if there is anything I can do, let me know, all right?" 
He had dropped his voice.  "I want you to keep me posted. 
Call me at home if you have to."  With that, he let her arm
drop and strode back into the office.

Scully felt her jaw lock.  God damn it anyhow.  When in the
hell had she become Mulder's keeper?  She shook the
thought off.  Mulder deserved better from her.  She needed to
talk with him.  That much was clear.  Her recent attempts to get
him to contact him by phone had been to no avail.  Often, he
wouldn't even return her messages.  Since the trouble with
Bitters, Mulder had been evasive and hard to pin down.  Her
efforts to get him to see one of the doctors she recommended went
unheeded.  Instead, he had gone to someone Marsh knew.  Just
stress, the doctor said.  Bull shit, thought Scully.

She was worried

She stabbed her finger at the elevator button and reluctantly
decided that if the mountain wouldn't come to Mohamed,
Mohamed would have no choice but to go to the mountain.

~~~~~~~~~~

The dark wood of Mulder's door was cool under her palm. 
She rested it there, as if she could divine what was within. 
She bent her head, listening for any sound.  Nothing.  How
many times had she stood here like this?  Too many to
count.  This time was different, however.  Mulder's
aggravation and paranoia had seeped into every aspect of
his life -- and that included his partner.  For the first time in a
long time, she was not sure she would be welcome. 

Taking a breath, and letting it out, Scully knocked.

After several moments, the door cracked open.

"Hey, Scully, what's up?"  Mulder's hair was tousled as he
squinted through opening at her.

"You missed your hearing, Mulder."

"So you came to check up on me, like a good girl, huh
Scully?"

"Skinner was not happy.  He wants to know what's going
on."  She paused, softening her tone.  "And so do I."

"I'm a bit busy at the moment, maybe we can do this later." 
Mulder moved back and began to close the door.  

Oh no, not this time.  She would not be pushed out, kept
away, again.  This time she pushed back.  The door swung
open surprisingly easily.  

"Jesus, Scully, make your self at home."

Scully stood at the threshold, taken aback.  It had been
several weeks since she had actually set foot in Mulder's
apartment. It had been bad then.  Now it was horrendous.  The
air was stale and permeated with the scent of beer and smoke. 
Scully bit back a sneeze.  She moved to the couch, pushing
take-out boxes away to make room to sit.  On the coffee
table sat a pipe.  She picked it up and sniffed.  The musky
scent of marijuana filled her nose.

Scully looked up at Mulder pointedly.  "Aren't you in enough
trouble as it is?"

Mulder hitched a shoulder.  "It isn't mine.  What difference
does it make, anyway?"

"It isn't yours?  Whose is it?"

"Mine.  Its mine,"  the voice floated out of the kitchen.  Jo.  Of
course.  Scully should have known she would be here.  Still, it
felt like a kick in the gut.  She'd had the vain hope that Jo had
moved on and out of Mulder's apartment.

The girl emerged from the kitchen, carrying two beers.  Her
dark hair was shorter than Scully remembered, tousled in
much the same manner Mulder's was.  She tossed a beer to
Mulder, who caught it and grinned at her.  Jo grinned back,
and wiped the top of her can with the tail of the grey T-shirt
she was wearing.  Mulder's, Scully thought with a pain.

"Breakfast of champions,"  said Mulder, cracking his can
open.  

Scully winced inwardly.

"Skinner wants to know why you failed to appear this
morning, Mulder."

"Didn't feel like it."  He seemed relaxed, much more so than
he had been in the last couple months.  His eyes were dark
and wide as he gave her another shrug and a goofy grin.

"You didn't feel like it?  Since when don't feel like making an
effort to keep your job?"  Mulder avoided her pointed look
and took another swallow of beer and dropped into the
corner chair.  "Mulder, what?  What's going on?"

He shrugged and slouched back into the chair.  "I've got the
money, the investments my dad left me.  I don't really need
to work for the Bureau."

Scully managed to refrain from gaping.  "But Mulder, what
about everything else?  What about the X-Files?"

Jo came to perch on the arm of the chair in which Mulder
was seated, jostling him slightly.  "If Mulder leaves the
Bureau, he can concentrate on the work that's really
important.  The things he *wants* to pursue, without any...
distractions."  Jo gave Scully a pointed look.  "You know,
we've got our own organization."

Ignoring Jo, Scully leaned forward in Mulder's direction. 
"Mulder?  Is this true?  How in the world are you going to
come up with the resources and manpower you have at your
disposal with the Bureau?"  

Mulder struggled upright in the chair.  "We'll manage,
Scully."

Scully shot Jo a look then shifted her gaze back to the man
in the chair.  "Mulder, you need to think this through
carefully.  You'd be throwing away a lot more than just
resources and manpower.  What about the years of work
you put into the X-Files?  What about Skinner?  What
about..."  

Mulder interrupted.  "Jesus, Scully, do you think I'm stupid? 
I *have* thought it through."

Jo looked at Mulder and nodded.  "We've given it a
lot of thought and decided it's for the best."

Scully dug the fingernails on one hand into her palm.  She
would remain calm.  Rational.  Mulder couldn't possibly be
serious.

Mulder leaned forward, suddenly grave.  "Now, I've got a
question for you.  What have you been doing with the files
while I've been gone?"

Scully frowned.  "What are you talking about?"

"I've got it on good authority that you've been... rearranging...
things," he sounded accusatory.

Scully shook her head.  "Mulder, no one is doing anything to
your files," she looked him in the eye.  "And, even if they were,
now that you're apparently a free agent, why would you care?"

"Just because I'm heading for greener pastures doesn't mean I
want to see all the work I've done tossed into the garbage
because I'm no longer there," he snarled.

"Conveniently forgetting that I've put as much blood, sweat and
tears into those damn files as you have?" Scully asked grimly.

Mulder scowled.  "Just watch what you do, Scully.  I'd hate to
see all that information get... lost."

~~~~~~~~~~

The weather had turned.  Mulder's car rocked
slightly, buffeted by a gust of wind.  He hunkered down in
the driver's seat, glancing up at Scully's apartment window. 
Late as it was, there were still lights burning, and Ritter's car
still stood along the curb a few hundred yards ahead of
where Mulder himself was parked.  Two nights ago it had
been Skinner's car. 

Mulder shook himself.  What the hell were they doing up
there?  It had been hours.  He was cold and hungry and felt
much too wired.  Leaning over to the passenger seat, Mulder
capped the thermos of coffee.  Enough was enough.  Coffee,
anyway.  

He blew on his hands and stuck them under his arms for
warmth.  Thoughts skittered around in his head.  The things
that Wendell had said.  That Scully and Skinner were up to
something.  X-Files reports being purged and re-written.
*His* reports, God dammit.  His work.  He didn't believed
it at first.  Despite what he had said to her, he hadn't really
believed Scully would deliberately undermine his work.  She
wouldn't.  But he had seen himself the paperwork being shuffled
to and from Scully's apartment by Skinner and Ritter .  Ritter, that
son of a bitch.  He was up there now doing God knows what. 
Tonight, he had brought not only an armload of files, but Thai
take-out.  Mulder had recognized the logo on the bag.  The whole
arrangement was too cozy for Mulder's comfort.

Suddenly angry, Mulder cranked the ignition and slapped the
car into gear.  He'd had enough of this crap.  Hands shaking
faintly, he pulled away from the curb with a squeal.

~~~~~~~~~~

Scully met Langly, at his suggestion, at The Japanimation
Extravaganza.  She wandered through the cramped aisles
looking for a blond man with a ponytail.  She found rows of
videos, stacks of books, electronic games and comic books --
even an under-lit corner that sported t-shirts and hats, but
no Langly.  She gave up and stationed herself near the front
doors hoping for a precipitous appearance. 

Several minutes later, he blew into the store surrounded by
a gust of Autumn wind.  A few leaves skittered in under his
tennis shoes.
          
"Hey," he said, looking up and catching sight of her.  "Got
what you asked for right here.  Sorry it took so long.  Frohike's
usual contact was out on maternity leave."  Langly waved a brown
envelope.  "Don't know how much it will help, though.  Cool
shop, huh?"

"Yeah, cool," smiling slightly at his obvious glee.

"I can't believe I just found out about this place.  I mean, it's
been here for like, three years."

Scully nodded.

"Sorry, you probably don't want to talk about Anime, huh?"

"Not really.  Sorry Langly."

"It's okay."  He paused and cleared his throat.  "So what,
Mulder's really gone off the deep end this time?"

Scully shrugged.  "Hard to say what's going on.  I can't get
much out of him.  I'm not sure I trust these new associates
of his."

"Even less impressive than we were, huh?"

Scully blew out a huff of air.  "No comparison, Langly."

They walked slowly down one of the aisles filled with video
games.  Langly poked and peered at them as they walked. 
"So Frohike and Byers said to get the scoop from you. 
Umm, your point of view."

"My point of view?  You mean as opposed to Mulder's"

"Something like that," he mumbled, paying careful attention
to the shelf above her head.

"Mulder's been talking with you?  What's he been saying?" 
She tried to keep the envy out of her voice.

Langly shrugged.  "Just that he thinks you and Skinner are
getting pretty tight, that he's heard you two are 'purging' the
basement files and that the FBI can go fuck itself."  He
shrugged again.  "That's pretty much it in a nutshell."

Unbelievable, she thought.  "*Purging* the files?"  Scully
gave a short unamused laugh.  "I cleaned out some old un-
needed paperwork.  Ritter and I rearranged a couple things. 
And *that's* pretty much it in a nutshell."

Langly looked apologetic.  "Sorry, I'm just repeating what he
said."

Scully waved a hand.  "I know.  I'm just... It's not..."  Frustrated,
she gave up.

"So, you and the AD aren't messing around with the files?"

"No.  And for God's sake, why would we do that?  Why
would *I*?  I've got as much invested in the X-Files as
Mulder does, whatever his interpretation may be."  The
narrow aisle suddenly felt too confining.  "I gotta go, Langly. 
Thanks for this," she waved the brown envelope as she
brushed past him.

"Not a problem," Langly said, his eyes already searching the
colorful shelves.

~~~~~~~~~~

As it turned out, the Gunman didn't find much more
information in the way of criminal wrongdoing than she had. 
The only useful bit was the record of the arrest of Marshall
DeYoung for assault and drug possession when he was
sixteen.

They had, however, found some information Mulder's new
organization that she hadn't.

New Light, founded by Marshall DeYoung, was supported by
donations from patrons and members.  For the life of her, all
Scully could see that members got for their hard won cash
was a subscription to the anemic newspaper where Mulder
had first seen the story on Josephine Sartini.  The paper
itself was big on conjecture and hearsay, low on facts.  

The Gunman had come up with a list of patrons that had given
donations to New Light.  Scully ran her finger down the short
list.  One name stood out in particular.  Warren Carin.  She
seemed to remember something, not a case, but something
in connection with him.

She pulled up a web browser and set to work.  A few
minutes later she knew why Carin had seemed familiar.
Warren Carin and his partner had run a trendy restaurant in
downtown D.C.   Five years ago his partner had been
indicted on some pretty hefty drug charges, but Carin
himself had not been brought into it.  Scully remembered the
case vaguely.  There had been rumors of Carin paying off
certain officials.  He still ran the same restaurant, sans
partner.

She stared thoughtfully at the screen in front of her, tapping
an index finger.  She should make Mulder aware of the
possible drug connection, if nothing else.  She wasn't looking
forward to it.  She had an uneasy feeling that he wouldn't
welcome any negative news regarding his new found friends.

~~~~~~~~~~

Scully left Ritter in the car.  They had been waiting outside
Mulder's building until Scully could be reasonably sure of
catching Mulder alone.  What she had to say didn't need an
audience.  

"Want me to come with you?"  Ritter asked.

"No.  I think I better do this alone," she said and picked up
the manila folder from the dashboard.

The ride up the elevator to the fourth floor and walk down
the hall to Mulder's apartment had never seemed so long. 
The old floor boards creaked under her feet in the afternoon
silence.  Scully paused before number forty two and steeled
herself.  She rapped three times in quick succession.

Mulder yanked the door open.  "Oh, it's you."  He flicked his
eyes up and down the hall, then returned his gaze to Scully. 
His eyes had a wide, hollow, listless look.  "Did you need
something?"

Scully nodded.  "Invite me in?"  She asked pleasantly.
                         
"Yeah, all right."  Mulder backed away from the door. 
"Come in."

The apartment was no cleaner than before, but at least the
air was breathable.  Mulder had the windows open.  A soft
breeze blew through the room.

Mulder flopped onto the couch, snagged the remote from his
coffee table and clicked on the television.  "What can I do for
you, Scully?" he asked, his pinned his eyes on the flickering
screen in front of him.

Still standing, Scully said; "I've got some information you
should hear.  About where the money for New Light comes
from."

"I know where it comes from.  Subscriptions.  Donations. 
Me."  Mulder concentrated on the television.

"Yes, but Mulder, some of those donations have been made
by some suspect sources.  I was thinking you might want to
check it out a bit more."

"You were, huh?  Thanks for your concern, Mom, but I think
I'll pass."

"You don't need to be sarcastic, Mulder, I'm just trying to
help," Scully said quietly, carefully controlling her voice.
     
"Whatever," Mulder shifted on the couch.  "Now, if you'll
excuse me, I've got some serious T.V. viewing to catch up
on.  I've already missed the first half of today's 'Little House
on the Prairie'."
 
Scully felt something snap.  Moving quickly, she snatched
the remote out of Mulder's hand causing him to blink in
surprise.  She powered off the television.  

"God dammit, Mulder!" she rounded on him.  "Sit up and
listen to me!  There is something going on here.  I don't
know what, but I will find out, with or without your help."

"Who made you my keeper?  I don't need you sticking your nose
into my business!  I'm a big boy, Scully.  Stay out of it."

"Mulder, please listen to me."  Voice softer, Scully sat down
carefully on the edge of the arm chair.  "I had Ritter look at the
evidence and he agreed that something is out of place.  Just look
at the file."  She placed the folder she had been carrying on the
coffee table.

"Oh yeah, I just bet Ritter agreed with you.  He walks
around with his nose so close to your ass that I'm surprised
he can tear himself away to take a piss."

Scully swallowed her sudden flash anger.  "Mulder, that was
uncalled for.  Ritter and I are working as partners since your
suspension.  You know that.  He's a good agent.  He has
nothing against you."

"That's why he left your apartment last Friday, make that last
Saturday, at five in the morning?  Got a little quality 'partnering'
time in, did ya'?"

Stung, Scully said, "No, Mulder.  He was just... we were
finishing up some work.  You know how it is, when you're
involved with something."  He didn't need to know that the work
they had been doing involved Mulder and New Light.

"What about Skinner?  What excuse do you have for him? 
He's been a late night visitor, too.  How many years has that
gone on, Scully?"  His voice was venomous as he leaned in
close to her.  She could see his pupils were dilated, his skin
pasty.

"Mulder, none of this is what you are implying.  You know it's
not."  Her voice was hard and clipped.  "What have you been
doing, spying on me?"

Ignoring her question, Mulder went on.  "I know nothing of
the kind.  I'm just putting two and two together here and
coming up with slut."

Stunned, she gawked at him.  Her blood ran cold, then hot, at
the measure of his venom.  Clenching the arm of the chair to
steady herself, she said, "You?  You're shacking up with a girl
barely out of high school and you have the gall to even imply
that there is something unprofessional about my relationships
with a couple co-workers?  Even if I *were* sleeping with both of
them, I don't see how it would affect you at this point, or why you
would care."

Mulder opened his mouth, then shut it, and turned back to the
television.  

She stood for a minute more, unable to move.  Slowly her
breathing returned to normal.  She glanced at Mulder who was
once again prone on the couch.  Barely controlling her anger,
Scully turned and tapped the file on the table between them,
surprised to find her hand wasn't trembling.  "Just look at it,
will you?"

She stood up, legs shaking, still clenching her teeth and
walked to the door.  Without warning, Mulder was behind
her, speaking low into her ear.

"Don't come back here, Scully.  I don't need or want you
around anymore.  I've got real friends now, friends who don't
lie to me.  Friends that don't cover up their collusion with
pretty stories."

Hurt and angry, she turned to him.  "I don't lie to you, Mulder."

"No?"

"No."

Mulder spat out, "'I'm fine, Mulder.  It's just a check-up.'  Or
how about, 'He slept on the couch.'  I spoke with the freak
with the talking tattoo, Scully.  Didn't know that, did you?  He
admitted he slept on the couch, after you two screwed like
fucking animals on the floor!"  
                         
A small wounded, choking sound escaped from the back of
Scully's throat.  "Mulder, please, that was years ago.  I was..."

"Get out, Scully.  Just leave."  Simple words that hurt more
than any gunshot wound.

~~~~~~~~~~

Unsteady, Scully walked to the elevator.  It would take her
downstairs, away from Mulder, away from his unreasonable
anger.                       

She jabbed the button for the ground level.  The big box
lurched to life and she grabbed the handrail for support. 
Blinking rapidly, she exited and went outside only to find
Ritter pacing in front of Mulder's building.

"I thought you were going to wait in the car," her voice was
gruff.

"You took a long time.  I was beginning to get worried." 
Ritter stepped closer to her the glanced up at the window. 
"What happened up there?  You look like upset."

"He didn't want to hear anything I had to say.  He wouldn't..."
she suddenly lost her struggle for control and felt a tear slip
down from the corner of her eye.  She brushed is away
brusquely, appalled to find another already sliding down her
face.
                    
Carefully, Ritter drew her to the side of the door. "What did he say
to you to make you this upset?  It's okay, we'll work it out
somehow," he said.  He brought a handkerchief out of his pocket
and offered it to her.  She took it and dabbed at her cheeks.  

Gently, Peyton laid a hand on her arm and bent his head,
murmuring words meant to comfort her.

There was a small, angry sound from the behind her.  Scully
looked up in time to see Mulder cast her a tight-lipped 'I knew it'
look before the door slammed shut.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder wondered if it were possible to become so small that
you could fall all the way through to the center of the earth. 
Down through the layers, squeezing through the crust and
mantle, bones and skull crushing.  Then compressed,
constricted and forced into the heavy middle core of airless
density, being ground to fine powder.  And, finally, slipping into
the inner core now so small that you were infinitesimal, with
nothing left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night, Scully discovered, after a long, hard week of
work, was not the time to ruminate about Mulder's situation.  She
had a headache.  She was tired. She was discouraged.

Scully pushed away from her desk, slunk to the couch and
flopped down on her back.  Headache, headache, go away,
she thought.  Frustrating as it was, she could think of no way
to rectify Mulder's situation without Mulder's help.  And she
was not likely to get that.  All she really had offer him was 
some information on sketchy money sources, a possible
drug connection.  Nothing, she thought, that would motivate
him to take a good, hard look at New Light.

She needed to come with something that would catch his
attention.  She needed help.  She needed to make a leap. 
She needed Mulder.

His absence settled in the pit of her stomach, hard and fixed -- a
gap in her existence.  She missed his presence in the
basement office, his late night phone calls.  She missed his
voice and the way he ushered her into a room.  She even
missed his damn jokes.

Sighing and stretching, Sully considered calling it a night and
starting fresh in the morning.  She sank into the couch and let
her eyelids drop.  Just for a minute, she thought.

She dreamt that flying was beautiful.  She was high, higher
than the clouds.  The air, cold and thin, rushed over her skin
and through her hair, making loose clothing snap and ripple. 
She could hardly breath for the sheer exhilaration.  Like the
time she went parachuting, she was overcome by the splendor
of being untethered and unleashed.  She felt like she could die
there, out in the stratosphere, happily.

Then the scene shifted, and she was dragged back to earth. 
She could feel the heaviness of gravity pulling her downward. 
She struggled to stay aloft.  Flying was so beautiful...

Scully awoke to rapping.  Disoriented, she sat up and scrubbed
her face and ran a hand through her hair.  She made unsteadily for
the door wondering who had interrupted her dream.  One thing for
sure, she thought, it wasn't Mulder.

Assistant Director Skinner appeared to her in a fish-eye image
as she looked through her peep-hole.  Self-consciously, Scully
straitened her shirt before opening the door.

"Sir," she said, stepping back to allow him admittance.

He nodded to her.  "I hope this isn't too late, Agent.  I
noticed your lights were still on."

She blinked at him.  "My lights...  You were in the neighborhood,
Sir?"

"Ah, yes.  I had an engagement tonight in the area."  Offering no
other explanation, Skinner stepped past her into the apartment. 
Scully shut the door softly.

"Can I get you something?" she asked.

Skinner shook his head curtly.  He had folded his arms
across his expansive chest and was frowning slightly.  Scully
felt, for all the world, like a small child about to be rebuked
for some thoughtless deed.  She was suddenly and
uncomfortably cognizant of the rumpled couch pillows and
her probable state of disarray.   

Scully moved to the couch to straighten the pillows.  Sensing
the movement, Skinner looked up at her and nodded, as if
he had just made his mind about something.

"I came to see if you could give me any more information on
Agent Mulder." When Scully didn't respond immediately,
Skinner went on.  "It's getting more difficult for me to
maintain his status at the Bureau...  I need something more."

He stopped and ran a hand over his non-existent hair and
said more softly,  "Scully, I need to know what's going on.  I
know you've been looking into this.  I talked with Ritter..."

Scully sighed.  "There isn't too much to tell.  What did
Peyton say?"

"Not much.  He mentioned something about some new
organization supposedly focusing on the paranormal that
Mulder has taken an interest in, and that you've been doing
some checking up on them.  I'd like to help.  If I can."

Silently, she nodded.  She walked to her desk and handed a folder
to Skinner and nodded at the dining table.  "Have
a seat."

A few minutes later, Skinner looked up.  "This is all there is?'

Scully nodded.

"Agent Scully, I don't mean to be a wet blanket, but this isn't
much."

"I know.  I know it isn't."

"A few loose connections and some suspicions on your part..." 
Skinner let his voice trail off.

Scully sunk down to the couch and rested her face in her
hands.   Her words came out muffled.   "I know.  I know what
it looks like.  Or doesn't, in this case."

"But?"

"But there's more," she said, lifting her head.  "I know that
there's more.  Something is going on.  I can feel it.  Mulder
isn't himself.  His behavior has been erratic."

Skinner snorted.  "Mulder's behavior has always been erratic."

Scully smiled slightly.  "Erratic, even for him."

He sat down carefully on the couch next to her.  When he
spoke, his tone was gentle.  "Scully, I know how much you
and Mulder have been through, but maybe," he paused,
mimicking her position, elbows on his knees.  "Maybe this is
simply what it looks like.  Mulder's fed up with the Bureau. 
He's got the money and is going to strike out on his own."

"I wish it were that simple."

"You're sure it isn't?  That it isn't just... your... attachment to
Agent Mulder that could be coloring your judgment?"

Scully flinched inwardly.  Attachment.  Aloud she said, "I
understand your concern, Sir, but I *know* Agent Mulder.  I
know that there has to be more than meets the eye here. 
He wouldn't just up and leave the X-Files.  Not after we just
got them back.  Not after all it took to get where we are now."

Skinner digested this for a moment.  "All right, Scully.  Then we'll
just have to go at this in a different way.  Any bases you haven't
covered yet?"

End Three