TITLE: White Room V: Unnatural Selection
AUTHOR: Annette Gisby
EMAIL: penguin2@cableinet.co.uk
ARCHIVE: ephemeral, gossamer, and anywhere else if you let me know.
RATING: NC-17
DISCLIMER: characters of the X-files belong to Chris Carter, 1013
and Fox. Not for profit.
SUMMARY: How did Scully get pregnant? (Not a requiem fic)


THE WHITE ROOM V: UNNATURAL SELECTION

MAY 2001

He found her like that, curled up in a ball on the couch of their
new living room, the packing cases still half full, the floor a mess
of crockery and tissue paper. Her shoulders were heaving with the
effort of her sobs and he wanted to turn and go back the way he
had come. She wouldn't want him to see her like this, tearful and
broken. Not in control.

As if sensing he was there, she turned around, the tear tracks like
a series of scars on her cheek. Scars he didn't know how to heal,
no matter how much he wanted to. He was afraid to ask what was wrong,
afraid of what the answer might be.

"Scully?" he asked tentatively, bracing himself for something he may
not want to hear. Scully didn't speak, just handed him what she held
in her hand. The card was crumpled and wet from her tears. His chest
felt tight when he saw the legend on the front of the card, in bold
pink lettering. The letters hinting at the happy occasion the card
was supposed to celebrate.

"HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY."

He felt as though he couldn't breathe and he sank to the floor
try and calm himself, before he could even think of looking inside
the card. He turned it over and inside there was a message scrawled
in a hand disguised as childish,

"To Mommy and Daddy from Aletea."

But their child would only be six months, there was no way she could
have written the note.

"Who would do such a thing, Mulder?" Scully asked softly. "Who would
be so cruel?"

"I don't know, Scully." He began to unpack some of the boxes, anything
to stop himself from thinking. Whoever sent the card, he was certain
it wasn't their daughter. Scully joined him, kneeling on the floor.
They didn't speak for a while, just continued with their task
like automatons. He thought he saw her smile as she took out a
small wooden box.

Scully opened the lid and the tinny strains of Braham's "Lullaby"
drifted out. A small plastic ballerina twirled on a velvet stage, her
movements echoed in the mirror behind her.

"Melissa bought me this when I was thirteen," said Scully and then
snapped the lid shut, as though by closing the lid on the music box,
she would be free of memories. Mulder wished it could be that
easy.

He wished she'd talk to someone about what had happened to her,
but the only way she would do that was if Skinner told her it was
mandatory. Skinner had already told Mulder that he thought she'd been
through enough, and he wasn't going to force her to see someone if
she didn't want to, no matter what the company policy was.

He glanced at his watch. They only had a few more boxes to do, but
the caterers were going to arrive soon. Whose idea was it to have
a housewarming party? He wasn't sure either of them were up to it.

"Scully, do you want me to ring and cancel?"

She looked blank.

"The party? Shall I ring and cancel?"

"No, Mulder. We should do this. I want to do this. We need to do
something normal. And what's more normal that your friends eating
you out of house and home and ruining your new carpet?" She smiled,
and this time it reached her eyes.

"Okay. You go and get ready while I finish up here."

He watched her walk up the stairs, feeling the love he had for her
like a physical ache. He loved her, he would always love her, but
what about Scully?

Did she still love him? There was only one way to find out, and this
time he hoped she wouldn't turn him away.

*********

Scully couldn't decide what to wear. Her wardrobe was overflowing with
suits, work suits, sober suits more suited to a funeral than a party.
She had a choice of three dresses, one black, one red and one a dark
purple.

Scully settled on the purple velvet dress. It had a fitted bodice and
the flared skirt at the waist skimmed her knees. It was low cut in the
front with a sweetheart neckline, and she hoped Mulder liked it. He'd
never seen her in it before.

Looking in the mirror as she put on the pearl necklace Mulder had
given her on their wedding day, she was surprised to see how much
cleavage she had now. The dress suited her much better now that
she had filled out. She had Aletea to thank for that and she bit her
lip to stop herself from crying again.

She didn't hear Mulder come in, but she smelled him and closed her
eyes, feeling a shiver of desire dance up and down her spine.

Her eyes opened as she felt him approach and their eyes locked
onto each other in the mirror. Mulder's eyes were wide, his pupils
dilated with little flecks of amber around the iris. She could drown
in those eyes. Her own pupils grew large as she watched him watching
her. He hadn't even touched her, but there was something very erotic
about being watched by him and wondering what he was going to do.

He was wearing a navy blue suit and a paler blue shirt. Homer Simpson
grinned from the tie he wore and she had to stifle a giggle. One
of the Lone Gunmen must have given him that.

His hand reached down to caress her cheek, but his eyes were on her
in the mirror, gauging her reaction. He lingered a while by her chin
and then his hand reached lower to caress the curve of her breasts.
She started, surprised by the touch and felt a flush rising on her
cheeks. Mulder kissed her neck, the whole time his eyes on the tableau
they made in the mirror.

Mulder's hand wandered lower and caressed the curve of her tummy and
she felt her insides lurch. God, she wanted him, party guests or not.
It had been so long for both of them. She turned, reaching up to cup
his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. He moaned
and she felt the desire course through her like a fire out of control,
a fire that only Mulder could quench.

The doorbell rang and Mulder cursed under his breath.

She pulled away and kissed him on the cheek, her arms around his waist.

"Later," she whispered into his ear.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Mulder. Really," she hoped he believed her. They needed
to do this. It was time to banish all the ghosts of the past. Mulder
hugged her tight before she went downstairs to answer the door. She
left him taking a shower and she smiled. It would have been nice to
have a shower together, but whoever was at the door had put paid to
that idea.

"Mom, hi," said Scully and opened the door wide to let Maggie into the
hall. Bill and Tara were conspicuous by their absence. Scully hadn't
really expected them to come, but she was disappointed. Bill was her
only brother now and he couldn't even put aside his feelings for
Mulder for one evening.

"Bill sends his apologies," said Maggie, looking at the floor. It was
a lie and they both knew it. Bill would not apologise for anything,
especially where Mulder was concerned. Bill refused to waver from his
belief that Mulder was responsible for everything the Scully family
had been through, and now that he knew Dana was married to Mulder,
she was as much responsible as anyone.

"Is there anything you need help with in the kitchen, Dana?" asked
Maggie when the silence looked like it was going to outlast the Ice
Age.

"No, thanks Mom. The caterers are taking care of everything. Mulder's
idea," she added on seeing Maggie's raised eyebrow. "He wanted us to
be free to enjoy our guests. They should be here soon." God, she was
babbling. When had it changed? When had she felt the need to fill in
awkward silences with gibberish?

"Dana, he called me. Fox called me. He's worried about you."

"What do you mean?" she didn't mean to sound angry, but it came out
sharper than she had intended.

"He says that you refuse to see a counsellor. After your father died,
I saw someone. She helped me. You have to let her go, Dana. Get on
with your life. Aletea's gone, she won't be coming back."

"How can you be so sure of that?" demanded Scully, feeling her heart
falter and her chest tighten.

"Dana, honey. No-one comes back when they die."

"She isn't dead!" insisted Scully. The doorbell rang and she went
to answer it, her face wearing a false smile for the caterers as she
directed them to the kitchen, before stalking upstairs to confront
Mulder. How dare he go behind her back like that! Why would he talk
to her mother about it? Why couldn't he talk to her?

He was just coming out of the bathroom, a white towel around his waist,
his chest bare. Rivulets of water dripped down his chest, a few drops
impeded by his chest hair. Scully just stood and stared. He was rubbing
his hair dry with a smaller towel and at first he didn't see her. When
he did, their eyes locked across the room and it was like an electric
charge had passed between them. Scully had forgotten what she was
supposed to be angry with him for.

All she could see was him. Mulder. The damp chest and hair. It was
like she'd never seen him before. The muscles rippling and glistening
in the light. The eyes reflecting herself back at her. He looked,
he looked hungry, and she was dessert. She felt a delicious ache
between her legs, her very wobbly legs. God, she hadn't felt this way
in a long time, a very long time. It was like she was on heat or
something. She swallowed and turned to leave, but he was on her like
a panther.

The kiss was fierce, frenzied, as if he'd been in a desert and she
was water. She moaned and reached up to caress his hair, relishing
the damp feel of it between her fingers, slippery and wet, like she
was. Mulder's hand was beneath her dress and stroking her thigh,
lightly, teasingly.

She pulled away reluctantly. "My mother's downstairs," she said, out
of breath. What was he doing to her?

"Well, then," he whispered against her ear and she shivered. "We'll
just have to continue this later, won't we?" He left her standing
there in the middle of the floor while he got dressed, a pair of
black trousers and a blue shirt. He didn't put on a tie and Scully
was glad. If he'd put on a tie, she would have felt like ripping it
off him. As it was, she could hardly stop herself from undoing his
buttons and pouncing on him there and then.

She felt weak, dazed. What was wrong with her? She'd felt desire
before, but not like this, not to this extent, where everything else
was just a distraction and she just wanted to do it, right now, this
minute and damn the consequences. It wasn't like her and it scared
her that she could feel this passionate, that she could want something
so much.

Mulder took her arm and she almost fainted, the touch was so intense,
with a promise of what was to come later. Later. How was she going to
get through this party until later when all she wanted to do was jump
Mulder's bones? She was made of jelly and she was sure her face was
flushed. Would everyone see? Would everyone know what she was thinking?

There weren't a lot of people at the party, but for Scully it was too
many. The caterers paraded round the room with trays of drinks and
hor's dourves. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Mulder
was deep in conversation with Skinner, seemingly oblivious as he
lifted up a pastry treat. But then he glanced up and saw Scully. He
licked the cream from the pastry, his eyes closed as if in ecstasy
and Scully felt the ache again. It was an unmistakable sign. What
Mulder was doing to the pastry, he wanted to do her. She could almost
feel his tongue there already, gently lapping at her core and she
had to stifle a moan of pleasure. Later could not come soon enough.

She rushed to the kitchen to splash some cold water on her flaming
cheeks. Mudler followed her, as she knew he would. Whatever she was
feeling, he was feeling it too.

"Is there a full moon tonight?" she asked him.

"Why?"

"I feel strange. Tidal. As if I have no choice but to follow the
tides."

"Where do they want you to go?"

"I don't know. Somewhere. With you."

"Only with me?"

"Only with you."

It was true. She had been watching other men at the party to see if
she felt anything like this, but they held no interest for her. They
didn't make her feel like a hormonal teenager, only Mulder. She was
drawn only to him like a moth to a flame. She didn't care if she got
burnt, as long as Mulder was there with her.

Just as Mulder was about to lean in to kiss her, there was an almighty
crash as one of the waitresses dropped a tray of glasses, just outside
the door. She and Mulder looked at each other and then burst into a
fit of giggles. It was as if a spell had been broken, and she felt
the tension ease away, like the ebb of the tide. Oh, she still wanted
to make love with Mulder, but it wasn't so frantic a need as it had
been.

"Come on, Mulder," she said. "Let's get back to the party."

*****

It was well past midnight before the last of the guests finally took
their leave. The caterers left with a large tip and a promise from
Mulder and Scully that they would do the tidying up tomorrow.

Now they were finally alone and could get to bed. Where all they wanted
to do was sleep. Scully giggled in the dark.

"What's so funny?" asked Mulder, from the other side of the bed. Scully
scooted over and snuggled up next to him, laying her head on his
chest. Her hand idly played with his chest hair as she felt his heart
go thump-thump beneath her.

"I was just thinking."

"About?" asked Mulder.

"About how much I wanted you tonight and now I'm too tired to do
anything about it!" She giggled again and Mulder was surprised at
the ache in his throat. Scully, laughing. He didn't think he'd ever
hear that sound again.

"You really wanted me?"

"Yep," said Scully. He heard her sigh contentedly as he stroked her
hair, relishing the contact. The first overtly sexual touch she'd
allowed him in  months. The first time they'd shared a bed in months.

"Mulder?" she began tentatively. "We can - you know - if you want."
He didn't think she sounded too enthusiastic at the prospect and
he didn't want the first time they resumed their physical relationship
when they were exhausted and stressed. No matter what Scully had said
about the party, he knew it had stressed her. And he bet the mother's
day card hadn't helped either.

"It's all right, Scully. Go to sleep. You're not the only one who's
tired. How about I wake you in the morning with a long, deep kiss like
Sleeping Beauty?"

"Sounds good to me," she mumbled sleepily. Mulder smiled as he drifted
off to sleep. Maybe things were starting to go right for them at
last.

He didn't get the chance to wake Scully with a kiss in the morning.
Instead he woke up to a sobbing wife, as far away from his side of
the bed as she could possibly get without actually leaving it.

"Scully? What is it? What's wrong?" At first she wouldn't answer him,
just shook her head and got up from the bed, away from him. As if she
was hiding something. He got up and tapped her gently on the shoulder,
her hand went to her face, as if to protect it. It came away red.
Blood red. His heart sank to his feet and lay there, heavy, like lead.

No. No. No.

"Scully?" he asked, quieter this time.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. I should have told you."

Oh, she should, but he didn't want to know. Didn't want to know that
Death had only been on hold, not cheated after all. He didn't want
to know that his wife, his beautiful wife would leave him. He watched
silently as she went to the bathroom.

When she came out again, her face was wiped clean, as if the blood
had never been there. But he'd seen it. Red blobs staining her upper
lip and her fingers, as she'd tried to wipe it away.

"How long have you known?" he asked hoarsely.

"I've suspected for a while," she admitted.

"What do you mean suspected? Haven't you seen a doctor?"

"No."

"Scully, you've got to see a doctor!"

"Why? So they can tell me there's nothing they can do for me? I know
that already, Mulder. I've been here before."

"But maybe it's something else, high blood pressure or something.
Shouldn't you at least get it checked out?"

"Okay. I'll go to the doctor tomorrow."

"No," Mulder held up the phone. "Today."

Neither of them said what was really on their minds. There might
not be any tomorrows.

*****

Two days.

Two days of waiting while the tests were sent off.

Two days.

Two days when she felt as tense as a coiled spring, ready to snap
at the least provocation.

Two days.

Two days until the phone call she was dreading/hoping for arrived.

The results were back.

*****

She hated waiting rooms. Hated the bland decorations, the out of
date magazines, the nervous tension filling the room like a fog. No-one
here was expecting good news. She'd gone through this before, but
the nervousness was new. She hadn't been with Mulder then, and she
knew what this would do to him.

As she was flicking through one of the magazine articles, "Your man -
Is he cheating? How to spot the signs," her name was called by the
receptionist. Scully took a deep breath and went in, wondering if it
had been a mistake to come here alone.

The doctor smiled at her as she entered the office.

"Dana, have a seat," said Dr. Alden. "The good news is, your cancer
hasn't returned."

Scully let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"But there is of course these nosebleeds you've been having. I think
we may have found the cause."

"High blood pressure?" asked Scully hopefully. Something mundane,
human, she could cope with.

"No. During our x-rays and CAT scan, we discovered something very
unusual. There seems to be some sort of metal lodged in your nasal
cavity. I've no idea how it got there, but I suspect it's what's been
causing your nosebleeds. I've booked you into surgery for this
afternoon. I think we should get it out as soon as possible."

"Yes, doctor. Thank you," said Scully, feeling the world spin around
her. In her nose. There was another one in her nose.

"There is something else as well, you have a hormonal imbalance."

"Oestrogen and progesterone?" asked Scully.

"Yes, how did you know that?"

"Let's just say my libido has increased recently."


*****

When she woke up after the operation, Mulder was looking down at
her, a worried frown on his face.

"Scully?" he asked quietly, as if unsure she was awake yet and didn't
want to disturb her. She struggled to sit up, but still felt groggy
from the anaesthetic. Mulder helped her by fluffing the pillows
behind her and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher sitting
on the bedside table.

"How are you feeling?" asked Mulder.

"Like someone's just taken a hammer to my face," she reached up and
touched the bandage across her nose and cheeks gingerly. "Do you
think the bureau will pay for some plastic surgery?" she asked with
a smile.

"I don't think you'll need it, Scully. You'll be as good as new when
the bandages come off." He leaned over to kiss her, just as the
doctor came in.

"And how's my patient doing?" he beamed a smile at both of them,
while whistling something out of tune.

"Fine," said Scully. "When can I go home?"

"A few more days should do it," he said, glancing at her chart. A
puzzled look replaced the smile. "That's odd," he said as if to
himself.

"What?" asked Mulder and Scully together.

"Remember your hormonal imbalance? Everything's back to normal, look,"
he handed Scully the chart and she scanned it before exchanging a
worried glance with Mulder.

"I don't understand," said the doctor. "We hadn't begun to treat you
yet, how could everything just go back to normal like that? Maybe
I made a mistake in the diagnosis. Let me check on your tests again,
Dana. In the meantime, just try and get some rest. And no sneezing!"
He risked a smile before leaving.

"Oh my God," they said in unison.

They knew why the hormone imbalance was back to normal.

*******

The shower was hot, too hot really, but Scully stayed under a full
ten minutes before she came out. Mulder was waiting in the bedroom.
He wanted to talk, but she wasn't sure she did. What good would
talking do? At least he'd waited until she was out of hospital and
out of the bandages.

He was right, she did look as good as new, without the need for any
plastic surgery. All that remained was a tiny scar across the bridge
of her nose.

And a small piece of metal in a glass vial.

It was sitting on the windowsill of the bathroom and her eyes were
never far from it when she was in here.

It was only a temporary measure, the gunmen had gallantly offered to
hold onto it, for whenever Mulder or Scully might need it for evidence.
The gunmen had swept their house periodically for bugs, paranoid souls
which they were. As her eyes rested on the vial, Scully realised that
they should have been sweeping her, not the house.

It still made her feel sick when she thought of what it meant. Aletea's
birth had not been a miracle, it had been engineered. Oh, Aletea was
conceived naturally, she was her and Mulder's child, but the reason
she came into being was because THEY wanted it that way. The implant
was full of fertility hormones, THEY wanted Scully to get pregnant.
THEY wanted their children.

But why?

As she came out of the bathroom, she saw Mulder sitting on the bed, a
file spread out all over the coverlet. Her file, from when she was
missing. She shuddered. She didn't want to remember that. He looked up
and smiled at her grimly, before placing the pages back inside the
folder.

"The gunmen rang, they want to examine the implant," said Mulder.

"I thought they might," said Scully. "What are they hoping to find?"

"I don't know, but we can't trust anyone else with this information."

"Skinner?" Scully rubbed at her hair with the towel.

"Maybe, but I'd rather the gunmen have a look at it first anyway. They
want us to come over as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow?"

"No. Tonight."

"Okay," sighed Scully and rummaged in the wardrobe for something to
wear. She settled on a pair of jeans and a dark blue sweater, while
Mulder went into the bathroom to get the implant. Although she didn't
really feel like going to see the gunmen tonight, she was curious as
to what they could find out about it. No matter how hard she tried,
she couldn't remember when she had received the second chip.

There were still a lot of things she couldn't remember.

"Ready?" asked Mulder as he came out of the bathroom.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, before following him downstairs
and out to the car. The journey was made in silence, the only noise
coming from the gentle hum of the engine, and all too soon they
arrived at their destination.

Mulder pressed the buzzer at the same time looking up into the security
camera, so that their friends would know it was only them. It was
still a full five minutes before the door was opened a crack and they
were ushered in quickly by Frohike.

"Were you followed?" Frohike asked.

"No, it's just us," said Mulder.

Frohike led them to the operations room, which was in full swing. Byers
and Langly had their heads down over two computer monitors, and a
printer was spitting out paper at a rate of knots, so that the floor
was ankle deep in information.

Byers looked up. "Did you bring it?"

Mulder held up the vial and shook it.

"Good. There's something I want to check," Byers took the vial from
Mulder and then removed the implant with a pair of tweezers. He laid
it down on a slide and placed it under the microscope on the other
side of the desk.

"Coffee?" asked Frohike.

"Sure," replied Mulder and Scully together. As Frohike headed to the
little room that served as their kitchen, Scully followed him. There
was barely room for two of them in there as Frohike filled the kettle
at the small sink.

"Dana?" he began, just as he almost bumped into her. "Did you want
something? We've got some decaff if you prefer that."

"No, it's not that."

"What is it, then?"

"I just wanted to thank you. You saved my life. I just wanted to
thank you." She looked at the floor, feeling strangely nervous.

"There's no need to thank me, Dana. I would have done it for any of
my friends. Mulder's a lucky guy."

"And I'm a lucky girl," smiled Scully. "I love him a lot, you know."

"We know," agreed Frohike. "But if ever you need to have an affair, you
just call me, right?"

Scully laughed, not sure whether or not he was serious. She hoped he
was joking, surely he knew she would never cheat on Mulder? He was
her other half, no-one else would fit the completed jigsaw they both
made.

"That was a joke, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied before turning to place the kettle on the
stove. Scully wasn't stupid, she knew that Frohike had a bit of a
crush on her, but she hoped he wasn't too hurt. She didn't want to
hurt him. She hoped that one day he would find someone who would make
him as happy as Mulder made her.

"One day," she said, almost to herself and went back out to the others.

"Yes, I was right. Look," Byers was saying and stood up so that Mulder
could look through the eyepiece.

"What am I looking at?" asked Mulder.

"Do you see those marks on the left hand side?" Byers pointed to the
design.

"Those squiggles?" asked Mulder.

"They're a design. A design of the manufacturer. And I know where I've
seen it before. I know where it was made, Mulder. That chip isn't
alien. It was made here."

"In Washington?" asked Mulder, looking up.

"No, on earth." Byers went to a bookshelf and brought down a large
volume, which seemed far to heavy for his frame. The book landed on
the desk with a thud and a cloud of dust making them all cough. Scully
could just about make out the title.

'The World Business Directory.'

"They're a computer company. Here they are. 'Dreaming Micros'. Do
you see their logo?"

Mulder and Scully looked at the page. There were three squiggly lines,
reminiscent of snakes, or maybe a coiled wire.

"It's an Aboriginal design," said Langly. "They're based in Australia."

"Australia?" asked Scully. "Why would I have had a chip in me from
Australia?"

"I don't know, but look what else we've pulled from the web on the
world news sites," Langly handed them a sheaf of papers.

They read in silence, the words visible but not really sinking. It
couldn't be true. This couldn't really be happening, could it? All
over the world, children were disappearing, form infants right up to
age eighteen. And they all had one thing in common, they had all
disappeared while they were on holidays with their parents.

Holidays at ancient sites. Stonehenge, Chichen Itza and at Uluru,
Ayers Rock. Australia.

Scully's hand trembled as she read. Tears splattered onto the page,
making the ink run. She knew how those parents felt. The children
had disappeared, vanished with no trace, no evidence. At first the
police had blamed the parents but even they soon realised that there
were too many victims for that theory to hold up.

Fifteen children at Stonehenge, twenty at Chichen Itza and over
seventy at Uluru. She felt cold and hot all once and dimly
realised that she was probably going into shock. Her head
was spinning, or was it the room? Everything sounded muffled.

"Scully? Are you okay?" Mulder's voice sounded a long way off.

"I'm fi-" she didn't get to finish the sentence as the bright light
momentarily blinded her and she sank to the floor, conscious, but
dazed. Three pairs of hands helped her up and she sat down on a chair.

"Scully?" Mulder asked again, a worried frown on his face.

"I'm okay," she said. "I think - I think I had a vision." She shook
her head, as though to clear it from the things she thought she saw
there.

"A vision?" asked Byers. "What sort of vision?"

"The children. I think I saw the missing children."

"Where?" questioned Mulder.

"That's just it. I don't know. Everything happened so fast. All I saw
were fragments, people, sounds. It was all disjointed, out of focus.
But there were children, lots of them, crying. They didn't want to
be there, wherever it was." Scully's voice cracked towards the end.
Was their daughter among those crying children? Was one of the voices
she heard that of Aletea? And would she recognise their daughter even
if it was?

"Come on, Scully. It's time I took you home. You'll let us know if
you find anything else?"

"Of course we will, Mulder," replied Byers, with a grim smile. Mulder
nodded as he ushered Scully towards the door, his hand a welcome
warmth on the small of her back. It made her feel safe, protected,
but she knew it was just an illusion. None of them were safe.

It had started.

*****

She couldn't stop shaking, her limbs felt as though they belonged
to someone else. They'd turned from blood and bone into something
rubbery and cold, something alien. She was cold and sweaty at the
same time. Every couple of minutes she threw the blankets aside,
before claiming them once more as she shivered.

"Scully? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No. I'm okay, Mulder. I'm just - I'm just scared."

Did he know how difficult that was for her to say? She hated admitting
weakness, but she was scared. She was terrified. Terrified of what
lay in store for them all. How long before all the children had been
taken? What then? What was in store for the rest of them then? Her
breath hitched in her throat as she tried not to cry.

Mulder scooted over towards her on the bed, his hand reaching out for
her, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear. She couldn't see him, but
she knew he was there, his hands on her, grounding her, keeping her
sane.

"Oh, Mulder!" she sobbed to him, clinging to him the way a shipwreck
survivor would cling to a floating log.

"Ssh, Scully, it's okay," he whispered to her hair. "Everything's
going to be ok--"

*****

God, his head was pounding, like someone had dropped a brick on it.
The last thing he remembered was being in bed with Scully. And then-
then nothing. Nothing came to mind. Something had happened, but what?

He was at home, in their bedroom, but he was no longer in bed, he
was just lying by the side of it. Mulder reached up and found the bed
empty. No Scully.

He shot up off the floor and switched on the light, a lead weight in
in his chest where his heart used to be.

"Scully!" he screamed, the word ripped form his lips like a tornado.

He scanned the room, not really expecting to find her, but hoping
just the same. She was sitting on the other side of the room, by
the bathroom door, her knees drawn tight against her chest, rocking
backwards and forwards. Her eyes looked at him, unseeing. She was
totally naked and he stared at her in shock. What the hell had
happened?

Her face was bruised just below the eye, and there were more marks
on her arms, especially around the wrists, as though someone had
held her there. Pinned her arms while they - they... He could hardly
form the thought.

"Scully?" he called softly, not wanting to startle her. No answer.

He bent down and that's when he realised that he too, was also nude.
That was also when he noticed the smell of semen, he could feel it
drying on his thigh and he backed away from her feeling sick. He
couldn't have, he wouldn't have. Would he?

If only she would talk, say something, stop staring blankly at him.

He strode to the phone and dialled the lone gunmen, relieved when
Byers answered the phone. Mulder didn't want to have to explain this
to all of them.

"Byers? It's Mulder, can you get over here ASAP? Just you, please."

"Sure, Mulder. I'll be right there." Byers hung up and it was then
that Mulder realised that they'd been on the speaker phone. The other
gunmen had heard every word.

*****

Mulder placed a blanket over Scully while he waited for Byers to
arrive. He wanted to take a shower, but was afraid to get rid of
anything that might be considered evidence.

What had he done to her?

He settled for putting on a bathrobe so that he wouldn't have to
greet Byers while he was naked. Mulder paced the room like a beast
in too small a cage, but he didn't want to leave Scully on her own
while she was like this.

At last the doorbell rang and Mulder almost tripped down the stairs
in his haste to answer it. He opened the door and was confronted by
a very worried looking Byers.

"What is it, Mulder?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"It's Scully," Mulder moved into the hall and started up the stairs,
with Byers following him. "I think - I think I did something to her."

"What do you mean?" asked Byers. Mulder didn't answer, just pushed
open their bedroom door. Scully was where he'd left her, rocking
back and forth, her eyes blind to anything going on.

Byers inhaled sharply and Mulder knew he must have seen the bruises.

"Have you called an ambulance?" demanded Byers. "She needs a doctor."

"No," said Mulder sheepishly and went to the phone. "How can I explain
what happened? I don't know what happened. I don't remember anything."

"What do you mean you don't remember?"

"Just that. The last thing I remember is that we were lying in bed
and then I woke up with a pounding headache on the floor. That's when
I saw Scully like this. Something happened, Byers, but I don't know
what."

Byers bent down and examined Scully's face and arms.

"The marks don't look that bad. I think maybe she's in shock."

"I've seen her like this before," said Mulder, feeling his heart
drop to his shoes. "The doctor said she was catatonic. They used
ECT to bring her back."

"Shock therapy?" asked Byers. "I didn't think they still did that."

"Sometimes they do, if nothing else works. I don't want to put her
through that again. I think maybe I'll call Dr. Werber."

"He'll be able to help her?"

"Not exactly. He's a hypnotherapist. He can hypnotise me and
let me remember what happened. If I can remember, maybe we'll be
able to help her."

It was a slim hope, but one he clung to steadfastly.

*****

"Now, Fox, I want you to get comfortable. Go to a safe place, a place
where no harm will come to you," said Dr. Werber. Mulder and Byers
had put Scully to bed, wrapping her up in the quilt, before ringing
the doctor.

Now all three were ensconced in the living room, Mulder lying on the
couch, Byers and the doctor on an armchair at either side of the
fireplace. Byers wasn't sure he wanted to be here to hear what had
happened. He guessed it wasn't going to be pleasant. But Mulder did
want him here, and so out of loyalty to his friend, he stayed.

"Where's your safe place, Fox?" asked Dr. Werber

"In bed, with Scully, hugging Scully, hearing her breathe."

"Now, you are going to remember things tonight Fox, painful things.
But they are just that, memories. They can't hurt you. If things
become too much, just go back to your safe place. Do you understand
me, Fox?"

"I understand."

"Let's go back to earlier tonight. Where are you?"

"I'm in bed with Scully. She's crying. She's scared, I've never
seen her so scared before. I hug her and tell her everything's
going to be all right but it isn't! It isn't!" He choked out a
sob which made the hairs stand out on Byers' neck.

"Why isn't it all right, Fox? Where are you now?"

"We're in the bad place. The very bad place. The white room."

"And Scully? Is she there with you?"

"Yes. But she isn't moving. She's lying on a trolley, like in hospital,
but she isn't moving. Her eyes are open but she isn't seeing. I try
to wake her up, but she won't. We're both naked, with nothing to
cover us up. I don't want them to see her like that."

"Who, Fox?"

"The aliens. And her. Scully wouldn't want to be naked in front of
her."

"Who is the woman, Fox? Do you know her?"

"Yes. It's Diana. She works for them, for the aliens."

"Does she speak to you? What does she say?"

"That I've been stupid, we both have. We shouldn't have taken out the
implant. 'It would have been so easy, Fox. The implant was to ensure
that you got her pregnant. You still have to impregnate her, Fox,
but it won't be so easy this time.' I push her away from me and
scream. 'I won't do it,' I say. I can't make love to Scully while
she's like this, unconscious, unknowing. It would be like rape.
I can't do it." Mulder clutched at his throat as if he found it
difficult to breathe.

"But I had to. They hit Scully and held her wrists. If I didn't do it,
the aliens were going to rape her again." Mulder let out an anguished
sob and Byers could see the tears roll down his cheeks unchecked.
Byers could almost feel his pain as keenly as if it was his own.

"Fox," said Dr. Werber. "I'm going to count to three. When I reach
three, you will wake up and you will remember everything we've talked
about. One, two, three."

Mulder opened his eyes and stared about the room, dazed at first.
His face searched out Byers.

"I did. I did rape her," said Mulder.

"No, Mulder. You saved her. Do you think she would blame you for what
you did? You protected her from a worse fate, she would understand."
Byers prayed what he was saying was true. He hoped Scully would indeed
understand what Mulder had done. "You didn't have a choice, Mulder."

"Neither did Scully," said Mulder quietly.

*****

For two days they tried to rouse Scully. For two days they failed.
Mulder began to worry that Scully was lost to him forever. But on
the third day, she began to cry. Really cry, as though she had
lost the entire world.

Her weeping lasted for hours, but Mulder could have listened
forever. She was crying, she was aware, she was no longer
lost in a place he couldn't reach and he wanted to hold her,
soothe her.

He didn't try and talk to her until the tears had given way
to a few dry sobs.

"Scully?" he asked softly. "Do you - do you remember?"

She looked up at him, the tears already drying on her cheeks.

"Mulder? Yes, I remember." She lay back down on the bed and
turned away from him.

"We have to talk about it, Scully."

"I can't, Mulder. I'm still too angry."

Mulder felt his heart lurch. She didn't want to talk about it.
With him. Because she hated what he'd done to her.

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he said and then he was the one who was
weeping.

*****

Scully heard him crying, and felt like joining him, but her
tears had long since dried up. What more would they have to
go through at the hands of THEM?

Mulder's sobbing was increasing in intensity and she couldn't
bear it, she couldn't bear to feel his pain.

"Mulder," she said, turning over and patting the bed beside her.

He looked at her as though she was an apparition of some sort.

"Scully?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, Mulder."

As Mulder got onto the bed, she scooted over and put her arms
around him, stroking his back, trying to soothe him as he lay
sobbing in her arms.

"Oh, Scully! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Ssh, Mulder, it's okay."

"But, Scully, what I did to you..."

It suddenly occurred to her why Mulder was so upset, he thought
that what he'd done to her was why she was angry. She pulled
away slightly, but only so she could look into his eyes.

"Mulder, I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with THEM for what
they did to us, for what they're still doing to us. You did
what you had to do. You know if I'd been able to say anything
that I would have wanted to be with you, not with the aliens.
I knew what was going on, but I couldn't move or talk. You
made love to me, Mulder. I remember how gentle you were,
I remember the tears you shed at having to do this without
my consent. I did consent, Mulder. In my heart I consented
and you know it. I just couldn't tell you."

She hugged him fiercely to her breast, rocking him like she
might rock a child.

"Scully, what if I've got you pregnant? It could happen all over
again."

"We won't let it," she said.

"How can we stop it? How can we stop them?"

"There's only one thing we can do, Mulder. We have to go
to the source, find out about those implants, and find out
about who makes them."

"You mean go there? To Australia?"

"Yes," replied Scully.

"Yes," agreed Mulder sleepily, before he fell asleep in her arms.

THE END
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