TITLE: The Return of Our Existence
AUTHOR: Dyann Zimmerman
Reply To: philer@onemain.com
RATING: R/NC-17
KEYWORDS: MSR; RST; X-File
SPOILERS:  At this point, who cares? 
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully have returned to their
lives, but something is missing.
DISCLAIMERS: Please sue me.  I'd love my
fifteen minutes.
NOTE: William is very present in this story,
but I wouldn't call it baby-fic.
E-MAIL: philer@onemain.com


DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, DC
Sunday morning, May 20, 2003
"Here," Scully said, handing Mulder another
cup of coffee.

"Thanks," he replied, barely looking up from
his newspaper.  Scully settled back into the
couch next to him, taking a tentative sip of
the hot liquid in her cup.

Scully picked up her section of the Sunday
Post and glanced at the television, some
Sunday morning pundit trying in vain to trip
up a politician.  "Why do they even give that
man a forum?" she asked idly.

"Who?" Mulder asked, looking up from his
paper to glance at the television, seeing
Bill Frist's condescending smirk.  "He's
someone people like to hate, I think.  You
tune in hoping someone will get the best of
him."

"Well, turn it.  I can't stand to even listen
to him," Scully said, her irritable mood very
obvious to Mulder.  He glanced towards her
and then pointed the remote to find Charles
Osgood introducing a piece on Woody Allen.

"Better?" Mulder asked, laying down his
paper, turning towards her, his arm sliding
along the back of the couch behind her. "You
know what Woody Allen said when Elvis died?"
Scully didn't answer or even acknowledge him,
seemingly absorbed by what she was reading in
the Post.  "Good career move... Pretty funny,
eh?" he said, trying to tease her; get her
attention, but only serving to piss her off.

Scully gave him her best dirty look and
tossed her paper to the coffee table, picking
up her coffee mug and heading for the kitchen
without saying a word.  She didn't have to;
he knew what the matter was.  Mulder took a
deep breath and folded his paper, taking his
time to follow Scully into the kitchen,
trying to put his thoughts together.

"Scully..." he said as he moved to stand next
to her at the counter.

"Don't, Mulder," she said, moving out from
under the hand he put on her shoulder.

But he didn't let her avoid him, simply
moving closer to her and wrapping his arms
around her as he spoke.  "Scully, talk to me.
I know what's wrong..." he started, just
holding her.  "I know what today is, too, you
know," he said softly.

Mulder could feel her relax her resistance,
her arms wrapping low around his waist,
returning his embrace.  "I'm sorry.  I know
you do..." she said into the fabric of his t-
shirt.  "He's two today..."

"I know... I know," he said into her hair,
not really knowing what else to say.  Mulder
moved out of his embrace just enough to give
her a soft kiss which she returned.

"I guess I thought maybe it would get easier,
Mulder.  I thought his first birthday was
horrible, but today..." her voice cracked,
Mulder enclosing her in his embrace again.
"I just miss him so much.  I can't make
myself believe that I will never see him
again."

"We'll see him again, Scully.  When he's
older, we'll see him; he'll come looking for
us," Mulder comforted her, truly believing
his own words.

They held each other for several long
moments, both of them thinking of their son,
various memories flashing through each of
their minds.  Mulder didn't have many actual
memories, only having been with his son for a
few days.  But his memories of those days
were strong in his mind and he felt like he
could remember every minute he was able to be
with him.  And Scully had made an album for
him, believing he would return and wanting
him to have the memories of their son that
she had. "Scully?" Mulder asked.

Scully moved back from him, looking up into
his eyes.  "What?" she asked, seeing that
something was on his mind.

"We could adopt.  We could get married and we
could find a baby who needs a couple of weird
parents," he told her quickly, almost
teasingly, but meaning every word.  "We would
qualify."

Scully chuckled and reached up to give him a
soft kiss.  "No, Mulder..." she answered
sadly.  "We had our son and maybe God meant
for that to be all for us."

"I'd do it if you wanted," he told her and
the love and sincerity behind his words got
the best of her.  She wrapped her arms around
him again and he could feel her soft sobs
against his chest.  He held her for a few
minutes and then bent to pick her up,
carrying her to her bed. He sat her down next
to the bed and pulled back the covers and
helped her to remove her robe.  "You need to
sleep, Scully.  You were up half the night,"
he told her as he covered her and she lay on
her side facing him, her head pillowed on her
arm.

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed," she said
to him when he sat next to her on the bed.

"Of course, I noticed," he said, petting her
hair.  "I'll get you a pill," he said,
heading for the bathroom, knowing she
wouldn't sleep any better now than she had
last night without it.

She told him she was fine, but took the pill
anyway, knowing he was right.  Mulder kissed
her before he moved to leave her to sleep,
lowering the blinds before he did.  "Do you
ever think about him?" she asked into the
dark.

Mulder returned to stand beside the bed,
"Everyday of my life, Scully," he answered
honestly.  "Now, go to sleep..."

FOUR HOURS LATER
"What are you watching?" Scully asked as she
entered the living room, lifting his feet
from where they were lying on the couch,
placing them on her lap as she joined him.

"Hi, um, Red Sox and Cardinals, inter-league
game," he said, rolling to his back from his
side where he laid on the couch.  "Feel
better?"

"Yeah, much," she smiled to him, massaging
his feet as they lay in her lap, thinking how
manly they were. "Thank you, Mulder," she
smiled, reaching for his hand.  "I needed
that and I wouldn't have done it if you
hadn't made me."

Mulder moved his big feet and scooted to sit
close to her, his arm going around her back.
"I'm glad you feel better," he said, giving
her lips a soft kiss, several more down her
neck.  "I could make you feel even better,"
he teased, kissing her chin, his hand rubbing
her stomach through her pajama top.

"You could, huh?" she teased back, moving her
head to give him full access to her throat.
"Actually, you're already doing a damn good
job of it," she told him when his hand moved
to her breast.

"If we move this to the bedroom, I can really
show you my stuff," he said, slowly
unbuttoning a button on her top as he
continued to kiss and nuzzle her.

"I've seen your stuff," she mumbled, his
mouth doing wonders for her arousal level.

"And?"

"And I wouldn't mind seeing it again," she
chuckled, both of them heading to the
bedroom.

Soon they were naked and both snuggled
together in the center of the bed.  "When's
the last time we had afternoon sex, Scully?"
Mulder asked, his hands moving over her skin.

"Um... two Sundays ago," she retorted,
surprised at Mulder's lack of remembrance of
their session on the couch in his apartment.

"Oh, yeah," he said, Scully now realizing he
had been teasing.  "Ouch!" he chuckled as she
squeezed him a little more firmly.

Scully resumed stroking him, feeling him
become firmer and larger in the palm of her
hand, loving that he responded so quickly to
her. Mulder kissed down her neck, his warm
lips finding a nipple, his tongue massaging
as he sucked.  "Mmmmmmm," Scully moaned when
his hand slid between her legs, his fingers
slipping through the slick fluids in her
folds.
"You know what, Scully?" he mumbled next to
her ear.  "Maybe we'll get lucky again; maybe
this will be the time."

"Mulder... don't.  I don't want to think
about it," she told him softly, her arms
moving to embrace him above her.  "Please..."

Mulder looked at her and nodded, giving her a
small smile before giving her a long, slow
kiss, his hand working between her legs just
as slowly.  He moved fully on top of her
then, her legs opening to make room for his
hips.  Scully reached for him, both of them
placing him at her opening, his penis easily
sliding in.  "Nnnnnn, Scully," Mulder moaned
at his entrance.

Scully's hips met the rolling thrusts of
Mulder's movements, their bodies moving
against each other in an easy rhythm.  "You
feel so good, Scully... always; always so
good..." Mulder murmured into her ear.

Mulder liked to talk during sex, Scully never
really sure if he actually knew what he was
saying, but he talked and soothed her all
through their lovemaking.  On the other hand,
Scully wasn't verbal, barely making any
sounds at all until her climax had built
almost to release.  But she loved hearing
Mulder; what he said, sometimes loving,
sometimes silly.  She figured what she liked
most was just hearing his voice, the lilting
timbre resonating next to her ear or against
her skin.

"Doin' okay down there," he asked softly,
moving his body up just enough to look at
her.

Scully smiled at him, her eyes half closed
from arousal, her words slurred.  "Mmmmm,"
she nodded, raising her head from the pillow
just enough to give him a soft kiss.  Her
hands were holding on to his thighs as he
moved, the movement of the hair of his body
against her softer skin feeling absolutely
wonderful.

Mulder felt himself getting closer, wanting
Scully to be at least as close as he was.
"Need anything else?" he asked, pushing deep,
his hips flush against her.  He figured she
must not have heard him as she didn't answer;
her only sounds an occasional moan or sigh
through her breath.  He moved up over her,
locking his elbows, his arms straight to give
his hips better leverage, more power.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned, her head turning into
the pillow at the change in position.  His
thrusts became more unpredictable, his hips
circling against her; hers mirroring his
movements.

"Uhhhohhhh," she sighed, the breathy high
pitch of her voice telling him she was close.
"Oooooooo."  She grasped his biceps, her
hands clamping on with all she was worth as
she pulled herself up, her arms going around
his neck as she climaxed.  She held her
breath as her hips shuddered, her muscles
contracting in rhythmic spasms that sent warm
sparks to every recess of her body.

Mulder couldn't stop his thrusting to let her
ride it out, the low burn in his back telling
him he wasn't far behind her.  He managed to
move to his elbows to lay Scully back down
against the bed and began to push harder
against her.  "Scully... oh, god, you're...
Uhhhhhhhhhhh," he groaned as he let loose,
shooting into her with a deep thrust.  He
jerked into her a few more times, finishing
his climax, his movements forcing their
liquids out of her with each push into her.

Mulder lay over her with his head buried next
to her neck as he panted, as they panted,
through the downside of their orgasms.  He
moved up enough to put his lips to hers and
they kissed for a long time, rolling their
hips together as he softened, giving her a
chance to come down.

Mulder mumbled silliness in her ear as he
moved off of her causing her to chuckle,
rolling him to his back, climbing over him as
she laughed.  She kissed him for a long time
in that position, her breasts pressed against
his still gasping chest.  "You are crazy,"
she mumbled to him.

"I thought you would've noticed that before
you let me get this far," he teased, his hand
rubbing the length of her back to squeeze her
bottom.

"Yeah, I must be as crazy as you," she
smiled, kissing him again before moving off
of him and snuggling into his side.  She
placed her palm against his cheek and turned
his face to look at her.  "That was
wonderful," she told him softly.  He smiled
at her and they kissed again several times,
Scully moving up a bit to have better access.

She was half laying over him again, neither
seeming to be able to stop kissing, stroking
each other's skin.  Finally, she moved up
enough to look at him and her smile grew into
a grin.  "I'm cold," she told him.  He sat up
to grab the sheet and spread to pull over
them, Scully lying back down on the bed.  "I
was thinking more along the lines of a warm
shower," she smiled.  Mulder grinned and both
of them headed for the bathroom.

X-FILES OFFICE
FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON, DC
The next day
During the time Mulder was in hiding, after
he had to leave Scully and William, he had
always hoped that he could return to his
life; return to his family and his job that
had been his life.  But he never really
believed that it would happen.  But after it
was proven to the powers that be that he had
been railroaded and wasn't guilty of murder,
he and Scully had received word that it was
safe to return home.

Kersch had helped them and had been
instrumental in alerting honest factions of
the government to the infiltration of super
soldiers and an all-out effort had been made
to identify and kill them.  It was felt that
there were still a few splinter groups of
them, but the threat of an overall invasion
was over.  And Mulder and Scully were able to
return to live a fairly normal life, except
they would have to live it without their son.

The X-Files had been re-opened and Mulder had
been put in charge again and had, much to
Scully's surprise, asked both John and Monica
to work with him.  And occasionally, often
more frequently, she was called in to consult
to do an autopsy or analyze forensic
evidence.  Sometimes, she would be called in
by Skinner to do nothing more than to keep
Mulder on track, but those consultations
generally weren't totally official.

During most of the day, they had busied
themselves working on a couple of possible
cases, making some phone calls, doing some
internet research.  John had been called in
to assist on a kidnapping case in
Connecticut, the daughter of a wealthy
businessman, and he had left mid-morning,
leaving Monica and Mulder in the office alone
for most of the rest of the day.

"How's Dana?" Monica asked Mulder when she
had returned to the basement after attending
a meeting.

"Good.  Why do you ask?" Mulder responded,
wondering why Monica would ask since she'd
just seen Scully the previous Friday.

"I'm aware of what yesterday was and I just
wanted both of you to know that I was
thinking about you," she told him directly,
always one to get straight to the point.

And Mulder then realized that, of course,
Monica would remember Will's birthday; she
had delivered him.  "Thanks," Mulder said,
truly appreciating her sentiment but not able
to say much further.  About that time, his
computer beeped, indicating that he had a new
email.  He was tempted not to even check it,
figuring it was some FBI directive about
expense report filing or something, but
opened it anyway.

'Agent Mulder; Your son isn't with who you
think he is.'

Mulder just sat there in stunned silence,
unsure of what to do next.

LONE GUNMAN HEADQUARTERS
SOMEWHERE IN WASHINGTON
One hour later
"We'll find out where this puppy came from,
Mulder.  Count on it," Langly said, his
fingers flying over the computer keyboard in
response to his latest challenge.

"So, Mulder, what do you think this means?"
Byers asked, wanting to know what direction
Mulder's mind was taking.

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?  Scully was
told William was adopted by an average couple
in an unsuspecting place," he said, his hands
clasped in his lap, his feet dangling from
the stool he sat on.  "I would guess
someone's trying to tell us that either that
isn't where he is or they aren't who they
were supposed to be."  Whatever the exact
explanation, someone was trying to tell him
something that may indicate that William
wasn't as safe as he and Scully thought he
was.

"Scully know about this?" Frohike asked point
blank.

"No, and I don't want her to know," Mulder
answered quickly.  "It would just upset her
and I need to find out more first."

Frohike and Byers exchanged a look Mulder
couldn't quite read but felt they were both
thinking the same thing.  "She's gonna kick
your ass," Frohike told him, his irritation
obvious in his voice.

"He's right, Mulder," Byers said, moving
around the large table to stand next to
Mulder.  "And, um, we're not really
comfortable with keeping things from her,"
Byers confronted him, Langly looking over the
top of his glasses to see Mulder's reaction.

"What?" Mulder said, not really understanding
what Byers was actually trying to say.

Byers looked toward Frohike and Langly and
they both stopped typing, all three turning
their attention to Mulder.  Frohike spoke up
first, "You know, while you were gone, after
we thought you were dead, well, Scully became
our friend, too."

"Yeah," Langly chimed in.

"What we're trying to say is, Mulder, that we
will help you AND Scully check this out,"
Byers continued.

Mulder stood up, his look one of incredulity,
but then one of fond understanding.  And he
suddenly felt like a heel.  The Gunmen were
more respectful of Scully's feelings than he
was being and he felt like a grade schooler
who had just been put in his place.  "So,
unless I'm honest with her, you won't help
me," he said to no one in particular but all
of them in general.

"That about sums it up," Frohike answered,
looking at Mulder.  "She's a big girl,
Mulder.  She's been through worse and handled
it all without you."

Mulder looked at all three of them and
realized how much he valued their strange
friendship and felt some odd sense of pride
that they were defending Scully, their
friend, too.  Mulder took a deep breath and
spoke, "You're right.  I, um, old habits are
hard to break, I guess."  Mulder found his
coat and slipped it on, searching his pocket
for his car keys.  "Let me know as soon as
you find something.  I'll talk to Scully.
Maybe she can help us with the adoption
records."  On his way out the door, he could
hear the tapping of the computer keyboards,
his, and Scully's, friends working to help
them once more.

DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, DC
Later that evening
Scully was surprised to see him, Mulder
letting himself in her apartment with his own
key, tossing his coat into a chair, finding
her on the couch reading.  "This is a nice
surprise," she smiled to him, sitting up from
her recline, setting her book on the coffee
table.

Mulder sat down next to her and she could
sense that he was tired, tense and had
something on his mind.  "What is it, Mulder?
Is something wrong," she asked.  Mulder
leaned over a bit, his hand digging in his
pants pocket and pulling out a paper.

"I got this email today at work," he told
her, his eyes never leaving hers as he handed
her the print out from his computer.  Scully
read the short statement, her eyebrows
narrowing as she did.

"What is this supposed to mean?" she
responded, her voice shaking with emotion.

"That's what I want to find out, Scully,"
Mulder said calmly, trying to diffuse her
obviously escalating emotions.  "But I wanted
you to know."

Scully stood from the couch, reading and re-
reading the paper as if it would say
something different if she read it just one
more time.  "But, Mulder... William... What
does this mean?!" she pleaded, not really
knowing how to react.

Mulder went to her, grasping her shoulders
and moving her gently to sit on the couch,
taking the piece of paper from her hand.  Her
mind was reeling, her heart about to pound
out of her chest.  "I've got the Gunmen
working on tracing the email.  When they find
it, they'll contact us," Mulder said quietly.
"And we'll go from there."

"Mulder..." she sighed, her voice cracking
despite her efforts to hold herself together.
Mulder moved to hold her, Scully returned his
embrace as she softly cried, all kinds of
thoughts spinning through her head and her
heart.  "What if... what if this means he's
in danger?  What if someone's hurting him?"
her tears flowing freely now.

"Scully, we'll get to the bottom of this.
Both of us together," he comforted, his hands
soothing up and down her back.  "We'll make
sure he's safe..."

They talked for a long time, Mulder trying to
glean any information he could about
William's adoption.  "It was through my
church.  It was the only place I felt
couldn't be touched by those who were trying
to harm him."

"I think that was a good place to do it,
Scully," Mulder told her, wondering how
difficult it would be to get at their
records.  "But it might prove difficult to
get any information from them."

"They promised me it was a good family and
that my name would never be found in any of
the records... or yours," she told him.
"They promised me it would be registered as
an anonymous adoption in their report."

Scully's comment sent Mulder's mind into
another direction, having always wondered
what she had listed as William's last name,
if she had listed him as the father.  But he
also knew this wasn't the time to ask.
"Well, we'll need the exact date of the
adoption; the name of the person you talked
to; anything that we might use to track
things," Mulder told her.  "We'll get that
information to the Gunmen and use whatever
resources we can tap at the Bureau."

Scully stood and moved toward her desk, her
mind anxious to remember everything it could.
She got a small locked metal box from out of
the back of a bottom drawer and removed a
folded document, two small feet printed on
the back.  "This is all I have.  I figured
since they obviously knew he was born, it
wouldn't hurt to keep it," she said, giving
him a sad smile as she handed him the paper.

Mulder looked at her for confirmation that it
was okay for him to look at it and she
nodded.  He was surprised to feel his breath
shorten, surprised also that he was so
nervous about finally knowing the answer to
his question.  Mulder slowly unfolded it, his
eyes not finding William's name until the
fourth line and he felt a lump form in his
throat.  'William Scully Mulder' it read, no
hyphen.  Three more lines down, 'Fox William
Mulder' was listed as father.  Father.  He'd
never actually seen it in writing by his name
before.

"Think you wouldn't find your name?" Scully
asked, giving him a soft knowing smile.
Mulder gave her a nervous laugh, but she knew
that was what he was looking for.

"Just call me 'Mr. Insecure', Scully," he
joked uncomfortably.

Scully moved closer to give him a soft kiss,
laying her head against his chest as she held
her hand on his as they just stood there and
looked at the only proof they had that they
had created another life together.  "Don't
ever doubt that we made him, Mulder.
Please," she told him.

"I never doubted that, Scully.  I just wasn't
sure whether you saddled him with my name,"
he chuckled as he held her.

"It's his name, too," she responded, her
voice cracking.  Mulder enveloped her in his
arms, his mind drifting again to the email
message and everything it could mean.  He
hoped they could make sure William was
alright, but what would they do then?


X-FILES OFFICE
FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON, DC
The next day
They had given all the information Scully
could remember from the horrible days
surrounding William's adoption to the Gunmen
and they were still trying to track down the
origin of Mulder's email.  Langly had located
the hotmail account, but found a fictitious
name that had been registered in a Washington
internet cafe.

"You're going to go blind," Mulder said when
he walked into the office seeing Scully
stilled glued to her computer; just where
he'd left her several hours before.

"Did they find anything more?" she asked him,
Mulder having gone up to the communications
department to see what the FBI could
officially find out.

Mulder leaned against the desk where Scully
was working and looked down at her tired
expression.  "Let's go home, Scully.  You
look like shit."

"Did they find anything more?" she asked,
ignoring his remark and still making no
effort to gather her things to go home.

"Langly found the origin of the email," he
started, Scully reacting excitedly.  "Before
you get your hopes up, it was a fictitious
hotmail account."

"From where?"

"Here in Washington."

"Well then let's go," Scully answered,
standing and turning to gather her jacket
from the back of the chair.

Mulder put his hands on her shoulders and
guided her back into the chair.  "Scully,
you've been here for twelve hours.  We can
get a fresh start tomorrow," he told her
calmly.

"We may find someone who remembers who used
the computer or..." she said, knowing she was
grabbing at straws.

"Scully, we'll go in the morning.  First
thing," he said, almost pleading with her.
"Have you even eaten today?"

"Have I eaten?  Is that what you're thinking
about; whether or not I've eaten?" she said,
her impatience with him very obvious.

"Come on, Scully.  You're tired," he said,
reaching over to turn off the computer
monitor.

"Stop it, Mulder," she said angrily, turning
the monitor back on.

Mulder was as angry as she was and stood to
get his coat to leave.  "Scully, dammit.  Go
home.  You can't even see that stuff
anymore," he said, irritated.

"He's my son!" she yelled, her voice almost
desperate from fatigue.

"He's mine, too!" he yelled back.

"Well, you don't seem to care!" she shouted,
standing to meet him as close to eye to eye
as she could.

Mulder didn't say anything for several long
moments, her last comment cutting him deeply.
"Don't you dare say that to me," he said
sternly, moving to walk out of the office.
He turned back to look at her, still standing
behind the desk with her hands on her hips.
"You have no right to say that to me," he
finished, his voice almost sad as he turned
to walk out of the office.

Scully fell into the chair, burying her face
in her hands as she sighed, so tired she
couldn't even cry.  She didn't mean what she
had said to him, knowing he was as worried as
she was, but just dealing with it in a
different way.  She leaned back in the chair
and closed her eyes, rolling her head on her
neck in an unsuccessful attempt to work out
some of her stress.  She knew that Mulder was
right; wearing herself down to the point
where she would be no good to anyone was not
the way work to find their son.  She sighed
deeply and relaxed into the chair, just
wanting to close her eyes for a few
minutes...

FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VIRGINA
Later that evening
Mulder had been irritated and angry and
pissed and... feeling so bad about fighting
with Scully that he stopped off for a drink,
several actually, before he headed home.  He
was as mixed up about everything as she was,
but for some strange reason, he was the one
who was trying not to be impulsive and
reckless for a change.  He knew she was
damned near panic stricken and he should be
supportive, not treating her like she was
some child who needed to be told what to do.

When he got to his apartment, he found the
door unlocked and immediately pulled his gun,
slowly turning the knob before swinging the
door open with his foot.  He could faintly
hear the television on in the bedroom and
knew instantly who was there.  He slowly
walked in, tossing his coat on a chair,
gradually opening the bedroom door.  Scully
was on her stomach on top of his bed, very
obviously sound asleep.

"Scully?" he said softly, sitting on the bed
next to her hip, touching her shoulder.
"Scully?"

"Mmmmm," she mumbled, rousing from her sleep,
blinking a few times before orienting herself
to where she was.  "Mulder..." she sighed as
she turned over to her back.  "Where've you
been?"

"I stopped for a beer.  I didn't expect you
to be here..." he told her honestly.

Scully sat up and scooted against the
headboard, her hands finding each other in
her lap.  "I, um, didn't want to leave things
the way we left them at the office," she told
him.  "I owe you an apology, Mulder.  I
didn't mean what I said; I know you care."

"Apology accepted," he said, leaning in for a
soft kiss.  "We can't do this alone, Scully.
We need to stick together," he smiled.

"I know..." she sighed, her eyes half-closed.
"I'm just so tired... and irritable...
and..."

"And scared.  I know; so am I, Scully," he
told her, taking her hand in his.  "But we
need to keep our heads about this."

"You're right," she said, moving towards him
to slip her arms around his neck, laying her
head on his shoulder.

"How about you get into bed and I'll go
shower the cigarette smell off and I'll be in
in a few minutes," he told her and she nodded
her agreement.

Later, Mulder came out of the shower with a
towel slung low around his hips and Scully
was undressed, looking in his dresser drawer
for something to slip on.  "You got a t-shirt
or something?"

"No.  I don't have one thing that you could
wear," he grinned, dropping his towel.
"We'll manage..."  Mulder led her to the bed
and they both crawled in, snuggling together
in the middle, Scully smiling as she laid her
head in the crook of his shoulder.

They lay silently for a long time, neither of
them sleepy and each knowing that the other
was still awake.  "I'm sorry you had to go
through everything with William by yourself,
Scully," Mulder said into the darkness,
imagining Scully crying to herself alone,
torn by her decision.

"I missed you so much..." she admitted,
burrowing further into him.

"You aren't alone this time; we'll get
through this together," he told her, turning
to face her, wrapping his arms around her
back.  "We'll find him; we'll make sure he's
safe."

Scully kissed him softly, her hand stroking
his cheek, noticing how smooth it was.  "You
shaved," she smiled.  "Hoping to get lucky?"

"Any time I have with you I consider luck,"
he told her sincerely.

"Jeez, Mulder, you really are wanting to
score," she teased.

"I'm serious, Scully.  I know we aren't much
on the mush, but..." he hesitated, seemingly
truly not knowing how to say what he wanted
to say.  "You do know that I love you,
right?"

Scully kissed him again, trying not to let
her tears come.  "I've always wanted you to,"
she responded.

"Well, I do," he told her, the look on his
face almost childlike, Scully thought.

"And I love you, Mulder," she finally told
him, giving him a soft kiss, snuggling
closer, squeezing him tightly.

Mulder returned her full embrace, his hands
stroking against her skin, down her back,
across her bottom.  "I still can't believe I
can touch you like this," he whispered,
kissing along her throat as he pet her body.

"I wish you didn't feel that way, Mulder,"
she said, pulling back just enough to look at
him.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked, thinking
she misunderstood him.

"I wish you didn't feel like I'm doing you a
big favor by being with you," she told him,
touching his cheek.  "Will you ever
understand that I love you just as much as
you love me?  That I WANT to make love with
you?"

"Probably not," he smiled, squeezing her
bottom.

"Just as much as you want to make love with
me?" she finished.

"No way that is possible," he teased.  "No
way."

"Well, way, Mulder.  And someday, I will
convince you of that," she told him, her mood
earnest.

"Wanna start tryin' now?" he smiled, his
hands moving over her again, moving to her
breast.

"Dammit, Mulder, I'm serious," she sighed,
taking his hand in hers and removing it from
her breast, wanting to keep her thoughts from
wandering. "It bothers me that you don't feel
I care for you as much as you think you care
for me.  Why can't I make you understand
that?"

Mulder could tell that she was serious and
wasn't going to be cajoled out of her mood.
He didn't know if he could ever explain to
her about his feelings of being undeserved
and why he felt that way.  He'd never been
able to explain it to anyone else.  But this
was Scully.  And she had never left him and
had told him she loved him.

Scully saw Mulder's thoughts spinning and it
only took her a few moments to know what he
was saying to himself.  "Mulder, I will never
leave you.  I love you and I will never stop
loving you.  I need you," she smiled.
"Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"Scully..."

"Mulder, I'm not anyone else.  I'm me and I'm
not going to do to you what everyone else has
done," she told him softly.

Mulder looked at her for several minutes
wanting to see the confirmation in her eyes
that he needed and found it.  "Promise?"

"Promise," she smiled, leaning in to kiss
him, softly at first and then intensifying
things as she snuggled her body closer.
"Now, let me show you..."

UNITED AIRLINES FLIGHT 1672
PIERRE, SOUTH DAKOTA
Three days later                          The
computers of the Catholic Church proved to be
a formidable challenge to the Lone Gunmen.
Langly figured the church hierarchy had
access to the best computer people in the
world and had good reason to need to make
sure their private records were well-hidden;
especially in the U.S.  They were able to
find one lone lead that an adoption was made
on the date of William's in the northern
Midwest, so Mulder and Scully had made the
decision to start there.

"God, Mulder, I can't believe how nervous I
am," Scully sighed, closing her eyes and
taking a deep breath to calm herself.  Their
flight was lowering in altitude as they
became closer to the airport and they were
both strapped in, ready for the landing.

"Yeah," he said, taking her hand as they felt
the landing gear drop down.  "But I think
we've got a good lead, Scully."

"I don't know, Mulder.  I feel like we may be
looking for a needle in a haystack," she
sighed.

"But, at least, we got an idea where the
haystack is," he smiled, giving her hand a
reassuring squeeze.

They had gone to Pierre first since the
diocese they had tracked the date of the
adoption to was located there and they really
didn't know where else to start.

"Yes, Father, I understand that, but we have
reason to believe the boy may be danger,"
Scully said to the priest, trying her best to
use the influence of her FBI credentials and
authority.

"But, I'll reiterate, Agent Scully.  I have
no authority to release church records no
matter what the reason.  The Bishop can't
even authorize that.  You will have to
petition the Vatican," he explained, seeming
almost uninterested in her plight.

"But that could take months, even a year,"
she said, almost pleading.  "This boy may not
have that much time."

But, as they had expected, Scully got nowhere
with the honest, direct approach, so she and
Mulder had planned a midnight search.  Mulder
had gained entrance to the Diocese office
easily, his lock-picking skills well-honed,
and had located the archival records within
only a few minutes.

"God, there's a lot to weed through here,
Mulder," Scully said, taking in the rows of
file cabinets and stacked shelves. "It could
take all night."

"Find the most recent stuff.  Maybe either
the date of adoption or his birth date.
We'll go from there," Mulder said, already
looking, trying to find the church's system
of organization.  "If we don't find anything,
I'll try the computer."

Later, Scully was on the floor several rows
over from where Mulder had finally booted up
the computer.  "Scully, come here," he said
excitedly.  She came up behind him and
immediately knew which entry in the directory
he was keyed up about: *Adoptions- 2000-2002*

"Can you get into it?" she asked, her
quickening heart rate almost taking her
breath away.

"I'm not sure.  It's password protected and
it's networked to somewhere.  We could set
off an alarm if we mess with too much," he
said, trying to think of another way.

Scully pulled out her cell phone and dialed
the Gunmen, not even thinking about the time.
Byers sleepily answered, "Scully?"

"I need you to see if you can hack into a
computer network we've found in Pierre," she
told him, passing her phone to Mulder to
relay all the necessary information.

They had gone back to their motel and waited
to hear from the Gunmen, hoping that they
would be able to get in to the Diocese
computer system.  Scully had her laptop
booted on the small table and Mulder was
lounging on the bed surfing through the
television channels.

"Scully, nothing is going to come up quicker
on that computer just because you're staring
at it," Mulder told her, flipping off the TV
with the remote.  "Come over here and try to
get a little sleep.  It could be hours before
we hear from them."

Scully sighed, knowing he was right, but
feeling that they were on the right track and
that the Gunmen were going to find something.
She kicked her shoes off and went in the
bathroom to ready for bed, slipping off
everything but her panties.  She grabbed her
pajama top and crawled into the bed, nestling
in next to Mulder.

"Scully, we ARE going to find him.  I
promise," he said, moving her to spoon up
behind her.

"And then what?" she asked softly.

"We'll make sure he's safe," Mulder told her
next to her ear.

"And if he is, then we just leave?  I'm not
sure I can do that," she said, saying what
both of them had been thinking, but neither
had dared to yet say.

Mulder kissed her cheek as he thought about
what to say next, unsure if he could see him
and walk away either.  "We have to, Scully.
We have no rights over him if he is with who
he is supposed to be with and is safe."

Scully turned to her back to look at him,
"What if he isn't?"

"Then we'll do what we have to do, whatever
that might be," he told her, bending to give
her a soft kiss.

"God, this is so hard," she said, her voice
finally cracking.

Mulder pulled her to him, his hands trying to
soothe her.  "Yeah, it is..."

They had only managed to sleep a couple of
hours when Mulder woke first to the sound of
Scully's cell phone ringing on the nightstand
next to him.  "Yeah," he answered groggily.

"Mulder, my man," Frohike's voice boomed on
the other end of the line.  "I think we got
something."  By this time, Scully was awake
and immediately went to her computer to see
if they'd sent anything.  Mulder moved over
behind her and watched the monitor as Frohike
continued to talk.  "We found an entry for
April 28, 2002 for a baby, doesn't say what
sex, that went through the Diocese to a
Parish in Wyoming.  I'll send you the link,
but it won't tell you anything more."

"No name on the adoptive parents?" Mulder
asked, hoping against hope that things would
be that easy.

"Nada.  But there may be something at the
Parish office which we tracked down to
Newcastle, just over the border into
Wyoming."  The file Frohike sent came up as
Scully opened it, but as he'd said, didn't
tell them much beyond what he had already
relayed to them.  But there were no other
adoptions within months of that date listed
through that Diocese, so it was either this
one or they were totally on the wrong track.

BLACK HILLS INN
NEWCASTLE, WYOMING
The next afternoon
They had rented an SUV in Pierre and decided
to drive to Newcastle rather than trying to
catch a commuter plane which, no more
frequently than they were scheduled, probably
would've taken longer anyway.  Mulder had
suggested that they get settled into a motel
first and then send Scully on another mission
to the Parish office, both of them knowing
they would probably get no further than they
had at the Diocese office.  But it was an
easy way to check things out and get a
minimal idea of the layout of the place.

And, as expected, Scully had made absolutely
no headway with the local priest, but had
found out that he lived above the Parish
office, so she and Mulder would have to be a
bit more creative in getting to the records.

"So what's for dinner, Scully?" Mulder asked
as they had left the Parish office, Mulder
never missing a chance to think about his
stomach.  Scully smiled, finding some kind of
comfort in Mulder's predictability. "We
probably have a choice between bison and
buffalo.  Or, if you prefer, we might be able
to find a bison burger," he teased her.

"Yum..." she replied absently, her attention
elsewhere.  Mulder glanced over at her and
could see she was deep in thought,
inattentively staring out the window as he
drove toward the motel.  "It's beautiful
here..." she spoke, her voice almost a
whisper.  "Maybe he's been happy... content,
living a good life."

"Maybe," Mulder answered, hoping it was true,
but fearing that their son had just continued
to be a pawn in someone's sick game.

They had decided just to grab a sandwich at
the diner at the motel, and had returned to
their room, deciding to wait until the next
day to try to get to the Parish records,
planning to wait until the Priest would be
out.  "I think I'll go for a walk," Scully
told him, slipping on her jacket.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine; just a little restless I guess.
Hopefully, the fresh air will make me tired,"
she told him, giving him a slow smile before
she gave him a soft kiss.

"Need any company?"

"Will you try not to take it personally if I
say 'no'?" she smiled to him.

"Bring me back an iced tea," he answered,
returning her quick kiss before she walked
out the door.

Scully had walked for almost an hour, finding
a well-lit park close by, stopping in a
coffee shop for a short cup of decaf.  She
felt the brisk air had cleared her head a
bit, giving her soul some peace she knew she
had to have to deal with what they may find
in the days to come.  And suddenly, she just
wanted to get back to Mulder.

At the last minute, she remembered his iced
tea and stopped off at the motel diner again.
"Two iced teas to go, please," she told the
woman at the counter, glancing around the
room at the few scattered patrons.  Scully
handed the woman a couple of dollars and when
she held out her hand for her change, a
couple of the coins fell to the floor,
bouncing against the tile.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the woman told her,
bending to pick up the rest of her change.
And that's when Scully saw it, the tell-tale
malformation on the back of the woman's neck;
she was a super-soldier.  Scully tried not to
let her inner fear become outwardly apparent
to the woman, simply taking her change and
her teas and leaving.

"Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder said
immediately after Scully entered their room.

"Mulder, we have to get out of here," she
said, going to the closet to get their
suitcases and tossing them on the bed.

"Scully, wait... What is wrong?  Tell me," he
said, grasping her shoulders to calm her
down.

Scully leaned into him, resting her forehead
against his chest as she tried to breathe and
still herself. Mulder wrapped his arms around
her loosely, now very worried about what must
have happened.  Finally, Scully looked up at
him and he could see the abject fear in her
eyes.  "Scully?"

"The woman in the diner is a super soldier.
She bent over and I saw the protrusions on
her neck, Mulder," she said in a rush, moving
back over to the suitcases on the bed.  "We
have to get out of here."

"You're sure?"

"No doubt."

"Did she seem to recognize you?" he asked.

"No.  She was the same woman who waited on us
at dinner.  Did she seem odd to you then?"
she asked, taking their things from the
dresser and putting them in their luggage.

"No, but I'm not sure that means anything,"
he said, reaching to finally help her pack.
"Look, I think we need to call Doggett and
Monica.  I think this may be deeper than we
may have thought. There may be more and we
could use some help," Mulder told her, Scully
surprised to hear him admit it.

"I think that's a good idea," she said,
zipping her larger bag closed. "We'll find
another motel and work from there."


CHEYENNE RIVER LODGE
46 MILES SOUTHWEST OF NEWCASTLE, WY
Three days later
John and Monica had arrived on the previous
day, both flying into Casper and driving to
meet Mulder and Scully at their new location.
All of them checked in under fictitious
identities, the necessary ID's being provided
by the Gunmen via John and Monica.  The four
of them decided to check things out,
wondering how many super soldiers they may
have to deal with.

"I thought they were dead; that they weren't
a threat anymore," Monica said as the four of
them sat at the table in Mulder and Scully's
room eating a light dinner.

"Most of them are," Mulder answered.  "But we
knew there were still a few strays living
here and there.  As far as anyone knew, they
had just blended in, not bothering anyone
since their leaders had all been killed.
They were all just drones and with no one to
lead them, well, no one gave the remaining
ones much thought."

"Well, maybe they should have," Doggett said,
his mouth full of his hamburger.

"I don't know.  Maybe the woman Scully saw in
the diner was just a coincidence," Monica
said. "Maybe she is one who just faded into
society with no agenda."

"It's possible..." Mulder replied.

"Well, I'm not counting on it to be a
coincidence.  We need to be as cautious as if
every person we meet could be one of them,
including the people who have William,"
Scully said, her voice almost breaking.

"At least we know how to destroy them now,"
Mulder added.  During the military
annihilation of the super soldiers, it was
discovered that the only way to kill them was
to immolate them.

"You know, I heard about this ammunition that
will cause burning when it strikes.  They
even have one that will explode when it
struck," John offered, remembering his days
in the military.  "It's a large gauge bullet,
30mm if I remember correctly, so it couldn't
be fired out of our personal weapons."

"Well, Agent Doggett, we are smack dab in the
middle of second amendment country, so
finding any type of ammunition or firearms
shouldn't be any more difficult than shopping
for vegetables," Mulder pointed out.

"Yeah, I'll see what I can come up with
tomorrow," Doggett added.

TWO DAYS LATER

Doggett managed to get a couple of weapons
and the igniting ammunition without calling
attention to himself and he felt they could
deal with anything unexpected.  They felt
mostly helpless, just hanging around, doing
essentially nothing.  No one was sure who to
trust, who may or may not be super soldiers.
But they hadn't seen any more and they were
all feeling somewhat better that the woman
they had seen in Newcastle was just a
coincidence, a super soldier who was simply
living an everyday life. But they could never
be sure.

Mulder and Scully had been into Newcastle a
couple of times, just checking out the
neighborhood businesses, chatting with the
locals. They hadn't seen anything out of the
ordinary, hadn't had anyone treat them
suspiciously and they were fighting not to
become disheartened.  They hadn't had an
opportunity to get into the local Parish
office, the Priest barely leaving his rectory
due to an illness, Scully found out from a
woman after an afternoon Mass.

But then they heard from Langly.  He had
managed to find a saved copy of a small
article in a Parish newsletter from 2001 that
to most people would've seemed as innocuous
as any other local news, but to him felt like
the holy grail.

*Mike and Nancy Van De Kamp of St. John's in
Gillette, are the proud new adoptive parents
of an eleven month old baby boy, blessed upon
their family on April 29th*, he read to
Mulder over the phone.  "That would make him
born in May of 2001, wouldn't you say?"
Langly asked.

"Shit, Langly... You got an address?" Mulder
asked, thinking to himself he couldn't
believe they may have actually found his son.

DEVIL'S TOWER CHALET
GILLETTE, WYOMING
The next day                             They
had found a 'St. John's Catholic Church'
located in Gillette, but realized that out in
the middle of almost nowhere, people may
drive from miles around to attend church, so
locating a specific parishioner may not be
all that easy.  But the four of them had
moved to a nice motel just outside of town, a
small resort actually, and were posing as
average tourists.  Strangely, they hadn't yet
been able to locate an exact address on a Mr.
and Mrs. Van De Kamp, no one by that name
listed in the local phone book.

Scully had gone to the church, lighting a
candle for William, trying to talk to a few
of the other patrons.  She didn't want to
seem too obvious, especially since enough
attention was already drawn to her being a
stranger.  They knew that flashing any FBI
credentials in a small, isolated place such
as Gillette would get the whole town buzzing
and they didn't want to scare anyone off.
Unfortunately, the Gillette church was also
covered by the Priest who had the Newcastle
church, so there would be no new information
to be gathered on that front.  But Scully
just knew they were on the right track to
locate William; she could feel it.

Monica had also been mixing with the locals,
visiting the coffee shop, an LL Bean, several
other small clothing stores.  But as she was
entering a quaint little book store, she held
the door for a woman carrying a large bag in
one arm and a smiling toddler in the other.
And as soon as Monica saw him, she knew it
was William; the crooked Mulder grin
plastered right on the baby's face.

The woman thanked her for holding the door
and hurried into the front seat of a waiting
pick-up, apparently headed home after a day
of shopping.  Monica was so stunned she was
barely able to respond but was able to gather
herself enough to get a good look at the man
and woman and the vehicle and couldn't get
back to the hotel fast enough to find Mulder
and Scully.

As Monica pulled into the parking lot of the
hotel, she spotted Scully getting out of her
car.  "Dana!" she shouted, Scully almost
startling at hearing her name being called.
Monica jogged toward her, taking her by the
elbow as she hurried them toward the room
door.

"Monica, what is it?" Scully queried,
wondering what the hell was up.

"Let's go inside," Monica said, Scully still
looking at her oddly as she opened the door
with her key.  "Where's Mulder?" Monica asked
quickly.

"Uh, he and John went to the county
courthouse. Monica, is something wrong?"
Scully said, setting her packages on the bed.

Monica hoped that Mulder would be in the room
so that she could tell them both what she'd
found, but knew the news couldn't wait.  "Sit
down, Dana," she said softly, finally calming
herself a bit.  Scully followed her to the
chair at the small table, still wondering
what was on her friend's mind.

"I think I saw William. Actually, I know I
saw William," Monica told her, figuring the
only good way was the direct way.

"Wh, what? Where?" Scully asked, her voice
almost a gasp, her heart beginning to pound.

"I ran into a woman at the bookstore carrying
a baby, a small boy and it was William, Dana;
I'm sure of it," Monica told her as calmly as
she could. "You know I'd know him."

Scully's mind began racing, not knowing what
to ask first.  "Where... Did you follow
them?" Scully asked finally.

"No, I didn't want to seem too obvious.  But
I got this," Monica smiled, pulling a piece
of paper from her pocket, handing it to
Scully.  Scully looked at it, immediately
recognizing it as a license plate number.

"Wyoming plate?" Scully asked, getting up to
boot up her laptop on the desk.

"Yep.  A blue Dodge Ram pick-up, fairly new
model, I'd say," Monica said as she stood
behind Scully, watching as she accessed the
Department of Motor Vehicles files with her
FBI credentials. They both stood silently,
waiting for all the files to be searched and
then it hit.

"Bingo," Scully said, almost under her
breath.  "Oh, my god..."  There it was on the
screen, confirming everything she had been
afraid of.  *2002 Dodge Ram Truck, VIN
DO1933H4767F7602; Purchased 4-28-02,
Registered to: C.G.B. Spender*

"Jesus," Monica said, seeing everything
Scully had.  "There's no address."

"Go figure," Scully said, knowing it probably
wouldn't matter if there was one.  "I can't
believe this," Scully sighed, her emotions
finally catching up with her. "Mulder's email
was right; William isn't with who we thought
he was. We've got to find him, Monica,"
Scully said, looking up at her friend with a
desperate gaze.

"We will, Dana.  We will," Monica assured
her, turning as she did to the opening of the
room door.

Mulder and John entered, carrying several
take-out bags filled with dinner, no doubt.
"What?" Mulder said, immediately recognizing
the scared expression on Scully's face.

"I think we've found him," Scully said, her
voice as strong as she could make it.

"Holy shit," John said, depositing his bags
and coming over to see what was on the
computer monitor.

"I saw him today in town," Monica told them,
Mulder sliding his hands onto Scully's
shoulders as he looked at the screen.  "I got
the license plate number."

"Did you notice...?" Mulder asked, unable to
finish before Monica spoke, already knowing
what he wanted to know.

"I couldn't see her neck, Mulder.  She came
out of a store and got right into the
vehicle," Monica said.  "She looked like a
typical local; nice, old-fashioned mid-
western look."

"Yeah, don't they all," John quipped.

"Well, we need a plan," Mulder said, trying
to focus his thoughts where they needed to
be.

They decided Monica should go back to the
book store and see if she could get a name or
an address on the customer she had passed.
She had an idea to present to the store
clerk, hoping that she wouldn't seem too
obvious.

"Um, ma'am, I bumped into a woman and her
young boy here earlier and found that this
had fallen into my bag and thought maybe you
could help me," Monica said, holding up a
small wooden toy of a white buffalo she'd
picked up at the store next door.

"Boy about two?" the clerk asked.

"Yes, I'd guess about that," Monica said,
trying not to show her excitement.  "A man
picked them up in a blue truck."

"Sure.  That was Nancy Van De Kamp. Comes in
here all the time to buy little Billy books.
Quite a reader, that kid," she smiled.

"Well, I'd like to return it to her.  Could
you tell me where she lives?" Monica asked,
trying not to seem obvious, but not wanting
to appear too nonchalant either.

"She and Mike live on the old Hilton road,
about six miles out," she told her easily.
"But you could just leave it here.  I'd get
it back to her; she'll be in again in a few
days.  Always does."

"Yeah, thanks, that would be great.  Save me
a trip," Monica smiled, handing the small toy
to the clerk feeling it would be less obvious
than for the woman to think she wanted to go
to the Van De Kamp's home just for the return
of an inconsequential toy. Monica bid
farewell and exited the store, thrilled that
she had gathered the information she needed.

DEVIL'S TOWER CHALET
GILLETTE, WYOMING
Two hours later                          
The four of them had cussed and discussed just
how to proceed with the information they now
had, John and Monica knowing that,
ultimately, it was Mulder and Scully's call.

"I think we need to inform the local law
enforcement, Mulder," Scully told him.  "If
we don't, we'll be nothing more than a couple
of vigilante parents wanting their child
back."

"I agree with Dana," John added.  "And if
either of these people are super soldiers, we
may need the help."

Mulder sat on the bed, his hands dangling
between his knees as he stared at the floor,
trying to process everything that was
happening, weighing all of their potential
options.  "We'll have to check them out; make
sure they're honest, not connected to Spender
in some way," Mulder finally spoke up.

"Or super soldiers," Monica added.

"Yeah," Mulder sighed, the enormity of every
decision they were making almost overwhelming
him.

Mulder and Scully had made an early evening
visit to the local sheriff's office and John
and Monica had taken a drive to locate the
old Hilton road.  The sheriff's office was no
more than a plain store front, a place a
person wouldn't have figured for a police
station if not for the sign above the door.
There was one lone desk inside, a young
deputy pecking out something on an out-dated
computer.  "Can I help you folks?" he asked,
his voice friendly.

"I'm Agent Mulder and this is Agent Scully.
We're with the FBI," Mulder introduced, both
of them showing their badges.

"Okay," he responded, offering a handshake.
"Deputy John Fitzgerald.  What brings the FBI
all the way out here?"

"We're looking for a suspect from a case in
Washington," Scully answered, not exactly
truthful, but not really a lie either.

Mulder tried to get a read on the deputy,
noticing that he seemed open and honest, not
hesitant or intimidated by their presence.
"We're not really advertising our being
here," Mulder explained and the deputy
nodded.  "You had any new people move to the
area in the last year or so?"

"Only a couple or so.  This isn't exactly a
bustling town.  Mostly ranchers and tourist
related stuff.  Everybody just tries to make
enough to live on," he smiled.

Scully sat down in the chair next to the desk
and the deputy returned to his, seeming
comfortable.  "Could you give us names,
addresses?" Scully asked casually.

The deputy thought for a few moments,
apparently searching his memory. "Well, we
had the Bennett's move back here earlier this
spring.  Her mom's been sick and they've been
here taking care of her. Umm, Charlie Barr
moved here from Cheyenne; got tired of the
rat race, so he said," the deputy relayed,
those two seemingly the only names he could
remember.  "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Mike
and Nancy Van De Kamp moved here about a year
ago, bought a small farm.  Kinda stick to
themselves; Mike and the Sheriff are good
friends though."

Scully tried not to show any recognition of
the names and changed the subject. "You the
only one who works here?" she asked, giving
him an obligatory smile.

"Oh, no.  Sheriff Perry's in charge. He's
usually here during the daytime," the deputy
relayed.

"You worked here long?" Mulder asked.

"This'll be my tenth year," he smiled,
seeming proud of his experience.

"How about the Sheriff?"

"He's only been here a year or so.  Brought
in after Sheriff Ellis died.  Strangest
thing; never sick a day in his life," he said
sadly.

"Brought in?" Scully asked, standing to walk
around the back of the deputy, taking a look
at the back of his neck down the open collar
of his shirt.

"Yeah, appointed by the governor or some
damned thing. Very political and I just stay
out of that stuff," he finished.

"Listen, Deputy.  I would appreciate you
keeping our presence here quiet, even from
the Sheriff. Think you can do that?" Mulder
asked.

"No problem, Sir.  Whatever you say," the
deputy replied, almost eager to comply with a
request from FBI.

"If we would need your help tomorrow, how
could I reach you?" Mulder asked.  The Deputy
wrote down his home phone and cell number and
told them to call; he'd be happy to assist
the FBI anytime...

Monica and John had located the Van De Kamp
house, their name proudly displayed on their
rural mailbox.  It was a modest farm house
out in the middle of nowhere, no neighbors in
any direction for miles.  The Hilton road hit
a 'T' only about a mile further down from
their house, the left hand turn finally
leading them back to Gillette.  The four of
them had met back at the hotel and they
exchanged the information they had.

"The Deputy is okay but I'm suspicious about
the Sheriff," Mulder told the rest.

"Yeah, I'd have to agree," said Scully.  "And
I think it's obvious that the Van De Kamp's
showed up here at the same time William was
adopted."

"So, whatda we do now?" John asked pointedly.

Mulder looked at Scully and could see that
she was about as weary as she had been since
they had left Washington and knew they all
needed some down time.  "I think we sleep on
it and meet at breakfast to decide how to
proceed," Mulder said, not really giving an
opportunity for discussion.  Monica and John
seemed to understand, saying their good-byes
and leaving fairly quickly.

"You okay?" Mulder asked, bending to her
level where she sat in the desk chair.

"I don't know what I am, Mulder," she sighed,
closing her eyes and leaning into him.

"Well, I know that you're tired," he told her
softly.  "Come on; I'll wash your back."  She
gave him a soft smile and stood, following
him into the bathroom.

After they'd showered and Scully had dried
her hair, they lay naked in the middle of the
bed, holding each other, but not saying
anything for a long time.  Finally, Scully
spoke, "Mulder, I couldn't be doing this if I
didn't have you. You're the only reason I can
hold myself together," she told him softly.
Mulder was almost shocked that she had
admitted that to him, knowing it took a lot
for Scully to confess her inner feelings,
even to him, even now.

"And I couldn't do this without you," he told
her, leaning in to give her a soft kiss.  He
was surprised when she intensified it,
wrapping her leg over his hip, pressing her
breasts into his chest as she enfolded him in
her arms. She shifted her body against him,
rubbing her mound against his groin, her
gesture telling him what she wanted. "I
thought you were tired."

"No, you thought I was tired," she told him,
the corners of her mouth trying to smile.  "I
need you..."

Mulder laid her on her back, his arms so
strong.  She would never tire of the power of
his shoulders, the long muscles of his
biceps.  Those treasured arms surrounded her
now as he kissed her mouth hard, plunging his
tongue deep within her.  Her hands moved
possessively over his back, his shoulders, as
she relished his kisses.  No one's lips felt
like Mulder's.  His late night shadow of
facial hair scratched at her skin, burned her
lips as hers moved against his mouth.  His
hands were in her hair, his grasping fingers
claiming her.

Scully rolled her hips against him again,
felt him moan into her mouth at the contact.
She wanted to surround herself with him.

"I need you," she breathed into his ear.

"You have me," he whispered huskily,
reassuring more than her physical needs.

She kissed his chest, bit gently at his
nipples, circled them with her tongue and
pleasured in the soft sounds she brought from
his lips. She wanted as much of him as she
could get.  They were entwined beneath the
quilt, lost in one another.

She was still half drowsy, moving and acting
on pure instinct and need, letting herself
have this moment, fears lost with the
feelings of loving Mulder and him loving her.

Mulder was kissing her skin now, drinking her
in, tasting her.  He was at her breasts,
lingering with kisses and touches and licks
that relaxed her as she now lay on her back.
He found comfort there, resting against her,
feeling the warmth and safety of her body.
The knots in her stomach were softening, as
his mouth trailed down her stomach, strong
hands kneading her breasts and the gentle
circular motion of his hips against hers
tightening her groin in needy anticipation.

She twined her fingers through his hair when
his tongue lapped over her clitoris. "Oh,
*God*..." she moaned, unable to silence the
throaty sound.  A thrill coursed through her
body like a lazy wave and she tightened her
fingers into the length of his hair.  She
needed this so badly; needed to be somewhere
but in the conscious world which had put her
child in harm's way.

He circled his tongue, eagerly tasting her.
She watched the taught muscles of his back as
he moved his fingers into her, her hips
bucking from the mattress, her hands grabbing
the bed sheets.  "Mulder...Oh, God..."  Her
consciousness was drifting in the warmth and
pleasure of the glide of his tongue and the
purpose his fingers.

But this was too good, she was too close.
Not yet. She needed the real thing.  She dug
her nails into his skin and pulled him up
toward her.  He complied after a few moments,
missing the loss of sweetness he found
between her legs.

"Love me," she breathed, lids hooded, breath
uneven. He was hard as a rock against her hip
as he held himself above her, his body
resting on his forearms.  The desire in his
eyes seemed to overpower hers, but she got
off on his arousal as much as her own.  He
kissed her again; hard and hungry as she
pulled up to meet his lips.

She reached down and grasped his penis,
enjoying the husky gasp brought about by her
fingers and guided him into her.

Mulder grasped her hips and pulled her tight
against him, their joining feeling like the
ultimate collaboration. She could see already
that he wouldn't last long. The need for
closeness and connection had transformed into
craving and desire and brought them both near
the edge with unwelcome speed.

He made his first thrust all the way into her
and she nearly lost what she was trying to
hold back.  He was right on her spot, pumping
into her slowly and deeply, hard, just the
way he knew she needed it. The utter power of
his hips filled the deep ache between her
legs and she knew she was almost there. She
bit into his shoulder as he moved against her
and he didn't flinch; he never did.

For Mulder, it was almost too much, needing
her more than anything.  He needed to feel
her inner desires that she had so often
masked in her life. Mulder was close, breath
raspy, arms trembling as he drove into her.
She gasped with each pull back, never wanting
him to move away, needing him tight against
her for as long as she could hold on.  Mulder
gripped the pillow, moaned softly close to
her ear, and the break in his voice, the
aching need of the last moments before
climax, pushed her over the edge with him.
The pleasure was almost too much to bear.

Scully clung to Mulder's back, capturing him
deep inside her, riding out her orgasm as his
own muscles pulsed against hers, holding him
as close and as deep as she could take. They
were breathless and wordless, softening in
one another's arms as he kissed her ear, his
hands threading through her hair. A thin
sheen of sweat covered their skin, his weight
pressed against her chest.  She felt safe...


VAN DE KAMP FARM
HILTON ROAD
GILLETTE, WYOMING
The next afternoon
Mulder had called Deputy Fitzgerald and the
four of them had met him at their hotel. They
had filled him in on the important parts of
their theory, quite a bit of talking
necessary to convince him that they weren't
crazy.  Had he not read something about the
government created soldiers months ago, they
probably would've failed.

John had given him one of the high powered
guns he had secured, him having the other and
they drove out past the Van De Kamp house,
parking down past the 'T' in the road to hide
the car.  All five spread out, but only far
enough to still be seen by each other, and
moved through the woods to stake out the
house.  The truck was in the drive and there
were freshly washed sheets hanging on the
outside clothes line, so it appeared that the
family was home.

Scully tried not to let her heart pound,
taking deep breaths to calm herself as they
all sat camouflaged behind the tree line.
Mulder glanced over at her, his nod to her
saying so much more than the others knew.

Soon, the sound of a car coming down the
gravel road echoed against the stillness of
the countryside.  As soon as it came into
view, Mulder felt his stomach roll, his
breath catching in his throat.  It was the
sheriff.  He looked over at the deputy and he
seemed as shocked as Mulder was.

The sheriff exited his squad car quickly,
taking the front steps to the house two at a
time.  He was a big man, his hair shaved
closely to his head, his eyes hidden behind
dark sunglasses.  They could see that he went
into the house without knocking and all five
of them had a sinking feeling that something
was not right.

In only a few minutes, the sheriff and
another man, a man the deputy knew to be Van
De Kamp, came out into the yard and seemed to
be discussing something very vigorously.
Mulder moved quietly over to Scully and
crouched down next to her. "Something's
wrong," he whispered to her.

"I know, but what can we do?" she answered.

"I'm not sure we'll get another chance,
Scully."

"I know... I know..." her voice cracking.
"We can't let our chance get away, Mulder.
We can't..."

"Then let's go," Mulder said, their eyes
meeting in silent agreement.  "Let's go!"
Mulder said to the others and they moved
toward the house in their pre-planned design.

When the sheriff and Van De Kamp saw all of
them closing in, the sheriff pulled his gun
and began to fire, Van De Kamp running toward
the house for cover.  Monica was able to
shoot him, but, as expected, he was a super
soldier and he merely stumbled from the
impact of the ineffective bullet.  "John!"
Monica yelled and he turned and fired his
special issue gun at Van De Kamp, hitting him
squarely before he burst into flames.  The
sheriff hid behind his car, still shooting
with all the firepower he had.  He grabbed an
assault weapon from the front seat, opening
up a barrage as he ran for the house, all of
them taking cover, unable to fire at him.

Suddenly a woman came out the door,
"Michael!" she yelled, running toward her
husband, now fully engulfed in flames where
he lie on the ground.  Scully had a clear
shot and fired at the sheriff, causing him to
stumble.  His momentary hesitation allowed
Monica and Mulder to move around to the side
of the house, getting in better position.  As
they did, the sheriff opened fire again, one
shot hitting Monica and she fell against the
shrubbery next to the house.

John ran towards her, firing at the sheriff,
his body jerking, staggering before it fell,
and bursting into flames.  But as he fell,
his finger still wrapped around the trigger,
the gun just kept firing, several rounds
hitting Mrs. Van De Kamp as she had tried to
cover her husband's burning body, hers
collapsing onto his.

Knowing that all of the others were likely
dead, Scully ran to Monica first, torn
between going in the house in search of her
baby and helping her wounded friend.  "I'm
okay, Dana.  I'm okay," Monica said as she
wrapped her jacked around her thigh, her
wound apparently not life threatening.  "Go
find William."

John sidled up next to her, "You okay?" he
asked, his breath panting.

"I'll be fine; go check Mrs. Van De Kamp,"
Monica told him, scooting to lean her back
against the house.

Scully ran for the house, up the stairs and
in the front door where she found Mulder,
holding a squirming toddler in his arms.  "Oh
my God. Oh my God," Scully said, not really
believing what she was seeing.  But she saw
what Monica had seen; this boy was indeed her
son.

"Scully, it's him.  It's him..." Mulder said,
the wonder in his eyes almost more than she
could bear.  He handed William to her, Scully
holding him to her as she rocked him, kissing
everywhere she could find.  Soon, the deputy
came in the house, slowly walking toward the
scene before him.

"That him?" he asked innocently.

Mulder and Scully looked at each other, and
then turned back to the deputy.  "Yeah..."

JASPER COUNTY COURTHOUSE
GILLETTE, WYOMING
Three weeks later
After the scene of the shootings had been
cleared, the body of Mrs. Van De Kamp being
taken to the morgue, what was left of the
sheriff and Mr. Van De Kamp was readied to be
flown back to Washington to be examined at
Quantico.  Monica had been helicoptered to a
hospital in Cheyenne, John going with her
even though Scully had checked her out and
knew she was going to be okay.

Despite pleadings from Mulder and Scully,
William was placed in a county certified
foster home until a custody hearing could be
scheduled.  They had called Skinner to let
him know what had happened and,
coincidentally, he had gone to college with a
guy who worked in the Wyoming Attorney
General's office.  Go figure.  Skinner had
pulled what strings he could to expedite
things and a hearing was scheduled within
three weeks, lightening speed as far as the
government was concerned.

Mulder and Scully hadn't been able to be with
William alone, but had been allowed daily
visits with him at the foster home along with
a social worker.  They had been lucky and
felt that the foster parents were kind,
caring people and the social worker had been
understanding and accommodating. Deputy
Fitzgerald had been helpful, keeping an eye
on the foster house, stopping by every now
and then himself.

Neither Mulder nor Scully had gone back to
Washington, keeping their hotel room, not
wanting to be very far away from William.  It
was the day of the hearing and Scully had
left most of her breakfast in the john in
their hotel room.  She didn't think she had
ever been more nervous, or scared, in her
life.

"It's going to work out, Scully," Mulder told
her as they drove to the courthouse.  "We'll
get him back."

Scully leaned her head back on the headrest,
letting out a deep breath as she looked at
him.  "Promise me..."

"I know you think I can't, but I'm going to,
Scully.  We WILL get him back," he said,
taking her hand in his.

When the hearing started, William still
wasn't in the court room and Scully nearly
panicked.  "Where's William?" Scully
whispered to the social worker where she sat
behind her and Mulder.

"He's in the judge's chambers, Dana, with
another social worker from my office.  He's
fine," she smiled and Scully trusted her; she
had no real choice at this point.

Mulder and Scully's lawyer presented their
case and DNA reports as evidence that they
were his natural parents. Deputy Fitzgerald
testified, as did another FBI agent out of
the Cheyenne field office who had
investigated the scene at the Van De Kamp
farm house. The deaths of the two super
solders had been explained and justified,
several people in the courtroom shocked at
the realization that two of their townspeople
hadn't been who they thought they were.  Mrs.
Van De Kamp's death was ruled a terrible
tragedy, but no one's fault except possibly
the sheriff's.  When it turned out she wasn't
a super soldier and had been killed in the
crossfire anyway, Scully felt great remorse
and guilt.  But on the other hand, she had to
admit, if the woman would've lived, they may
have had a much more serious fight on their
hands for custody of William. She felt pangs
of guilt for her feelings of relief as well,
but needed to stay focused on her son.

Monica had recuperated well enough in a few
days to be released, she and John returning
to Washington, but flying back out to Wyoming
for the hearing, both of them testifying as
well.  The state had no real reason to fight
Mulder and Scully's petition to get William,
actually understanding that they had been the
ones to suffer the greatest injustice.

"In all my years on the bench, I have never
had a case that was as strange or
unbelievable as this one.  What's even
stranger, however, is that I believe what
happened in this case.  And as a member of
humanity, I apologize for what has been done
to you and your son," the judge told Mulder
and Scully compassionately. "I hereby nullify
the adoption of William Scully Mulder by
Michael and Nancy Van De Kamp and return full
custody and rights to his natural parents,
Dana Katherine Scully and Fox William
Mulder." And with the rap of a gavel, William
was home again.

MULDER & SCULLY'S APARTMENT
BETHESDA, MARYLAND
Two months later
*Now began our real journey. Hitherto our
toil had overcome all difficulties, now
difficulties would spring up at every step.

I had not yet ventured to look down the
bottomless pit into which I was about to take
a plunge. The supreme hour had come. I might
now either share in the enterprise or refuse
to move forward. But I was ashamed to recoil
in the presence of the hunter. Hans accepted
the enterprise with such calmness, such
indifference, such perfect disregard of any
possible danger that I blushed at the idea of
being less brave than he.* Mulder read,
William almost asleep.

"Mulder, you are going to give him
nightmares," Scully whispered as she walked
in the room.

"'Journey to the Center of the Earth',
Scully.  It's a classic," he smiled, closing
the book. "Something every boy should read."

"Yeah, maybe when he's twelve..."  Scully
smiled, loving that Mulder spent every
available minute with his son, but still
questioning his skewed selection of reading
material for a two year old.  Scully bent to
give William's forehead a soft kiss before
reaching for Mulder's hand.  "Come to bed,"
she smiled.  "And put that damned book away."

The two of them had returned to Washington
with William, both of them taking a couple of
weeks off from work to regroup, take time
getting to know their son all over again.  It
only took a few days for them to realize that
neither apartment was going to be adequate,
so they had found a larger one in Bethesda
and they had both put theirs on the market to
sublet until their leases ran out.

Scully's mother became William's babysitter
after they had both returned to work and
William was crazy about her and she him.  She
couldn't believe she had her grandson back.
Monica had returned to work, desk duty only
for a while and Mulder and Scully felt
eternally grateful to her for helping them.
Mulder had even admitted that he now saw what
Scully had always told him John was made of
but he still didn't often give John a break.
It had become part of their relationship,
Scully guessed.

Later, after Mulder had put Jules Verne back
on the shelf, they lay together in bed
talking, still in a state of wonder over
their child.  "I still can't believe it,"
Scully said, her breath tickling through the
hair on his chest as she spoke.

"Believe what?" Mulder asked, having a
general idea of what she meant, but wanting
to hear her say it.

"That he's here with us and he's okay and not
in danger anymore," she explained softly, her
fingers moving idly against his abdomen.

"I wish Spender was still alive so I could
kill him all over again," Mulder said. While
they were waiting for their hearing to regain
custody of William, they had found documents
in the Van De Kamp home and more in the home
of the sheriff indicating that Spender had,
indeed, been involved in placing William
under the supervision of his own hand-picked
super soldiers. And what had made Mulder the
angriest was that the only reason Spender had
done it was just to keep the child away from
him and Scully.  No other reason.

The whole reason of wanting William for his
'powers' had become moot after Jeffrey
Spender had given William the injection in
Scully's apartment which had essentially
nullified his 'specialness'.  The elder
Spender had just wanted to deprive Mulder and
Scully of their child, their chance at a
family.

"It' over, Mulder.  He's dead and I don't
ever want his named mentioned again.  Okay?"
Scully said, sitting up next to him to look
him straight in the eyes to reinforce her
point.

"You know, I've think I know who sent us that
initial email, the one that led us to
William," Mulder said, hoping she'd allow one
last thought on the subject.

"Who?" she asked skeptically.

"Jeffrey Spender," Mulder said, having no
real proof, but trusting his gut feeling.

Scully thought only a moment before she
looked at him and nodded, her gut telling her
he was probably right.  "Well, we'll accept
that as poetic justice and move on with our
lives," she said, Mulder knowing also that
that chapter of their lives was over.

She sank down into the bed next to him again,
snuggling into him, her leg wrapping over
his.  "Love you..."

"Love you, too... Mom," he said, the word a
soft caress carried on a gentle smile.  His
voicing of that word to her felt
overwhelmingly intimate and she sensed
something tight uncoiling within her, a soft
smile finding its way to her own lips.

"Thanks... Dad," she whispered back.

She felt the heat of his lips as they drew
toward hers, the delicious thrill at the
moment of contact never lessening.  She could
still taste the sensations of their first
kiss in each succeeding moment she met his
lips.  One soft kiss, then another, her
fingers lacing through the fine hairs at the
nape of his neck while she drank in the
warmth of his lips.

And then his long fingers were beneath the
quilt on her ribcage and his palm cradling
the back of her neck and everything else was
melting away.  The hole in her heart, the
void in her soul had been filled by the
return of their son and the deep love she
felt for Mulder.

Mulder knew what she wanted, always sensed
what she needed and moved over her, settling
between her legs.  His foreplay, his
painstakingly detailed efforts to get her
aroused, ready for him was never really
anything she needed, but she'd never tell him
that.  All he ever had to do was kiss her,
barely touch her bare skin and her body
immediately responded, readying itself for
his entrance into her.  But he always knew,
also, when she didn't want that; just wanted
him to push into her, wanted him to be joined
with her totally.

Tonight, their loving was slow, but deep and
hard, Mulder strong and assertive above her.
He could be so gentle sometimes, other times
being playful and silly, while being
desperate and forceful the next time. He
always kept her guessing. Finally, he began
to move faster against her, his hips moving
in a way she recognized as the beginning of
his need to climax.  "Uhhhh, Scully," he
groaned, his face falling to the pillow next
to her neck as he stopped, his hips pressed
tightly flush against hers.

"It's okay, Mulder.  Let go," she whispered
to him.

"You," he was able to mumble, telling her
what she already knew; he was trying to wait
for her.

"I'm almost there.  Just don't stop," she
told him, moving her hips slightly so that he
was rubbing on just the right spot when he
began to move again.  "Oh, yessssss," she
sighed when he hit it.

And he climaxed hard, the combination of his
last thrusting, his warm liquid going in and
being pushed back out, sending her over the
edge shortly after.  Mulder felt like he
could barely move, but kept rolling,
undulating against her 'spot', prolonging her
climax, her body shuddering over and over.

When they finally broke away, they didn't
speak.  Eye contact was enough, always had
been.  Soft hazel and thick lashes stared
into azure eyes and expressive eyebrows and
said as much as ever could be said with
simple voice.  Even though he was now her
husband, the father of her son, he would
still always also be the young man in the
glasses who had greeted her with derision one
sunny afternoon in the basement and shared a
child's joy over an orange X on the pavement
one rainy night. All of that was who he was
to her... her existence.

THE END

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