Title-Pain and Panic {1/2}
Author- LPetrie
Rating- Pg-13. For language
Class- TA Adventure/Angst
Spoilers- Season 5 and up
Keywords- Mulder/Scully romance
Summery- Scully is disturbed by a case and does
something unexpected.
Discaimer- Not mine. Never will be. Yadda yadda yadda.
Feedback- Please! This is only my second fic! Also, I
need inspiration to finish this fic!

    “Freeze! FBI!” Mulder’s command echoed through the
abandoned warehouse. The man thirty feet ahead of him
gave no indication that he heard Mulder’s order and
continued running toward the docks at breakneck speed.
   “Stop or I’ll shoot!” Mulder thought the expression
was a little banal but it always seemed to work on the
television cop shows. No such luck in  reality though.
Mulder slowed his pace in order to get a shot off at
the burly kidnapper, but not enough so that he
couldn't regain the ground lost in his hesitation. The
bullet shot out from his FBI issue handgun and lodged
in the back of the running felon, who immediately
crumpled to the cement floor of the warehouse.
    Mulder ran to the body and checked for a pulse. A
little weak, but at least there was one, though he
wouldn’t feel that bad if the punk died. Mulder turned
at the sound of heavy footsteps pounding against the
pavement and grinned. Scully was a sight to see when
she was running in her dress suits and high heels.
Although Mulder knew Scully couldn’t run as fast as he
could or as easily, Mulder’s eyes narrowed as they
observed Scully’s heavy and shallow breathing.
    Scully, noticing Mulder’s obvious scrutiny of her
physical condition, simply raised her eyebrows in
question. Noticing the felon’s obvious need for
medical attention, she called 911 and turned back to
Mulder.
    “Is something wrong, Mulder?” she questioned.
    “Nope. Nothing.” Mulder didn’t want Scully to
bristle like she usually did when he showed concern
for her welfare, so he shrugged off her guarded
questioning. Mulder felt tremendous relief when the
EMT's arrived on the scene. He and Scully had been up
since two that morning following up on leads that
would lead them to the wanted criminal who had
kidnapped a fellow FBI official’s daughter. Although
Scully wouldn’t admit it, he knew she was relating the
loss of her friend’s daughter with the loss of her
own. And because he knew she wouldn’t welcome his
support while they were still working on the case, he
bided his time in approaching her about Emily.
    “Let’s get out of here Scully. The paramedics can
handle him from here.”
    “ You go ahead Mulder, I’m going to follow the
ambulance and make sure the bastard is delivered to
the maximum security hospital for the prison,”  Scully
informed him.
    “The D.C. police have already ordered a police
escort to the security hospital. There is no way John
Wily will be getting out of there any time soon,”
Mulder told her, referring to the wanted felon by his
full name. “Let’s go home,” he suggested again.
    “O.K. Mulder. You can drive this time. I’m
exhausted from all this extra activity.”
    Mulder had noticed she seemed a little out of sorts
today, but he had just put it down to the early
morning start that they had had. Now he was beginning
to wonder if maybe it wasn’t something else entirely.
He hoped his gut feeling was wrong, because he could
never really concentrate when Scully was upset. And if
he hadn't noticed her distance before, her
acquiescence
in letting him drive would have captured his
attention.
    “You got it ,Scully. And for getting up so early
this morning, I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow
until 6,” Mulder coaxed her in a teasing voice.
    “Thanks Mulder,” Scully replied, giving him a wry
smile.
********************************************************
The next morning
FBI Building

    Mulder glanced at his watch again and wondered if
he needed to reset it. He glanced up at
the glowing clock on his desk. They both couldn’t be
wrong. But they had to be. Scully was never late for
work. Mulder impatiently raked a hand through his
already mussed hair. 10:03. the watch shone at him
like a lighthouse did at a sailboat lost in the deep
,dark ,sea waters. I’ll give her 5 more minutes. Then
I’ll call her. She probably just overslept, he kept
telling himself.
    Four minutes passed when he reneged on his promise
to himself and called Scully’s apartment from the
office phone. It rang and rang and rang. Scully never
answered. After half an hour of him calling her every
5 minutes, Mulder decided to go to her apartment and
see if she was ok.  He knew the case yesterday had her
shaken up, but he didn’t think it would extend this
far. Scully usually bounced back like a tennis ball
but she obviously had taken it harder than he thought.
*****************************************************
10:48 am.
Scully Residence

    Knock. Knock. Mulder’s fist rapped on Scully’s
door.
    “Scully? You in there?” No reply. She must have
really conked out for her not to hear his obtrusive
pounding on her door. She usually woke with the
slightest noise. Odd.
    “Scully?!” His call had a trace of panic in it this
time he called her name. She shouldn’t be sleeping
this soundly, and since he knew Scully hated taking
any kind of unnecessary medication, he ruled out the
use of a sleeping pill.
    Mulder took out his keys and went through the ones
on his key ring until he reached the one that would
unlock Scully’s apartment door. Inserting the key in
the lock, Mulder opened the door and let himself in
the apartment slowly, not wanting to be mistaken for
an intruder. He didn’t want another bullet wound to
add to his collection, and Scully would almost
certainly get a shot off at him if she thought he was
an intruder.
    Although he might have almost welcomed that instead
of the coldness that the apartment emitted. The shades
were drawn in her living room windows, and Mulder
guessed the other windows were also shaded. No light
beamed from any of the overhead lights or floor lamps
in the apartment. Mulder shivered. Usually when he was
in Scully’s apartment, he was flooded with warmth. Of
course, that had a lot to do with being in her
presence at the time too. Nobody was home, and that
left Mulder even more confused. If she wasn’t at work,
and she wasn’t at her apartment, then where was she?
Mulder didn’t like jumping to conclusions, oh OK, he
did. But this time was different. He felt an eerie
sense of role reversal. He wondered how many times
Scully
had gone throughout this ritual every time he ditched
her. And then he understood her hurt after he
had returned. Damn. Where was she?

************************************************8

11:50 am
FBI Building

    Mulder returned to work, hoping to find Scully at
his desk looking over the files he’d left there. He
kept hoping on the drive back to work that he had just
passed Scully on the way to her apartment. He wouldn’t
have worried, but that case had bothered him, and he
knew it bothered Scully. When he opened the door to
his office, his hopes were crushed. The room was as
cold as
Scully’s apartment had been. Just then, a knock
sounded at the door of his office.
    “Agent Mulder?” Skinner walked through the door of
the office and stopped directly behind Mulder.
    “Where is she?” Mulder turned to the A.D and gave
him the panic face he had shown Scully in Dallas.
    “ I don’t know Mulder. All I know is that she came
into my office early this morning and asked for some
time off,” Skinner informed him, automatically knowing
what Mulder wanted to know.
    “ Why? Did she give you a reason?” Mulder
questioned. He was becoming increasingly worried about
Scully. She never took time off work. The only time
she had taken off work was when....damn!. “ Is she ok?
Is she ill?”
    “ I don’t know. She appeared perfectly fine. Maybe
a little upset. That’s all,” Skinner replied.
    “ Upset, how?”
     “Just upset.”
    “ The Wiley case really bothered her, sir.” Mulder
informed Skinner.
    “She’ll be ok, Mulder. Maybe she just needs a rest.
That might be all this is.”
    “ I hope so.”

**************************************
11:21 p.m.
Mulder’s apartment

    Mulder sat on his black leather sofa clad only in
his well-fitted blue jeans watching TV. Well, not
really watching, just gazing at the screen while lost
in his thoughts.  Scully certainly deserved this
vacation, but he was still bothered by her sudden
disappearance. She hadn’t shown any sign of fatigue
during the Wiley case, but she didn’t often reveal her
deep emotions to Mulder anyway. He usually had to rely
on her body language and her eyes. Sigh. Her gorgeous,
wide blue eyes. If she knew how well he could read her
emotions by simply looking into her eyes, she’d
probably sew them shut. He smirked at that, but
couldn’t force himself to chuckle at the hilarious
image it brought forth.  His phone rang, jarring
Mulder from his deep thoughts.
    “Mulder” he spoke into the phone.
    “Mulder.....it’s me.”
    “Scully? Where are you?” Mulder answered, wincing
at his aggressive tone.
    “Mulder, I’m fine. I just called so you wouldn’t be
worried.” She replied nervously.
    “ Just tell me where you are and what you’re up to
and I won’t be worried.” He told her in a no-nonsense
voice.
    “I can take care of myself Mulder. I’m a grown
woman. Look, I’ve gotta go, OK?”
    “Wait Scully. Please. Just tell me why you need a
vacation. Did I do something?”
    “Mulder...no. I just need a break. Nothing more
than that ok?”
    “If you’re sure. You’ll stay in contact in the
meantime right?”
    “ If you feel it’s necessary. I’ll keep my cell on,
ok?”
    “Thanks Scully. Enjoy your vacation ok?”
    “I will Mulder.” With that she hung up. Scully
hoped Mulder was convinced by her act. She didn’t want
him to worry himself so much that he got hurt while on
the job. She also knew, she couldn’t tell him the
truth. Not this time. She sighed as she let one last
tear fall to the ground.
    She turned her cell phone on, but left it at the
gas station where she was calling from. At least she
told him the truth about that, she thought wryly and
walked towards her car. Getting in, she closed her
door and started the car. And with a roaring of a car
engine and the squealing of tires against pavement,
Scully’s car disappeared into the moonless night.








=====
Brie

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TITLE: I Heard the Roar of Thunder
(Part 4 of 4 parts)
NAME: frogdoggie
FEEDBACK: frogdoggie@...
Additional headers, including Disclaimer can be
found in Part 1. Missing a part of this story or
just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here:
http://www.squidge.org/3wstop

xXx

My gaze strays to the end table. I take in the
remainder of the watered down whiskey that's in
the bottom of my glass and I think...it looks a
little like the color of Scully's hair in the shadows
and firelight that bathe the room. Or maybe the
color of the orgasmic flush on the top of her breasts.
I look up at her, where she straddles my thighs...naked,
her smooth, pale skin patterned by light and shadow
as well, her hands stroking my cock. I revel in
her passionate grace for a few seconds. Yup...close
to the color of what's left of my smoky whisky
on both counts...and she tastes just as good too,
I think as I run my tongue over my lips and savor
the musky dampness from between her legs.

"What are you thinking?" she asks quietly, her
breasts rising and falling enticingly as she speaks.

"He's not thinking," Skinner interjects with a
chuckle from the fireplace where he kneels, stirring
the embers.

My eyes track lazily over to him as he stands and
places the poker back in its rack. I admire his
tanned nakedness, the expanse of his well-developed
body in the firelight, the elegance of his heavy
cock, erect between his muscular thighs.

"I have to admit, my mind's rapidly losing its
coherency, yes," I reply, returning my attention
to Scully with an appreciative grin. "She has very
talented hands."

"Yes, I do," she comments, smiling mischievously
at me.

I grin as Skinner replies, his voice even more
husky with passion.

"Hands and mouth." He crosses back over to where
I sit, naked, on the couch, my feet on the floor
and lap full of Scully. Scully arches her neck
as Skinner nuzzles it, kissing and licking the
sweat off. "And she tastes superb," he adds, snaking
his hands around to her breasts. Skinner kneads
her nipples slowly in time with her hands moving
up and down my erection. His cock brushes the small
of her back.

"Actually, I *was* thinking that," I reply.

"Speaking...speaking of losing coherency," Scully
gasps, arching her spine as Skinner's mouth roams
over her neck again.

"You want him?" he rumbles next to her ear. "You
want us both?"

"Yes," she replies, licking her lips. "I want you
both in me." Skinner chuckles as Scully shudders
under his hands sliding up and down her torso.
"As soon as possible," she amends with a gasping
chuckle as well. All I can do is give Scully a
grimace of pleasure as Skinner leaves her and takes
the short step to the table at the end of the couch.
He retrieves two condoms, a towel and the bottle
of Astroglide and returns to us.

Scully receives one condom from his hand and she
efficiently opens the packet, pulls my cock away
from my stomach and suits me up. Then she sits
back, watching my hard-on bobbing between us.

"What are *you* thinking?" I ask her with a quick
grin.

"I'm just admiring my handiwork," she teases, running
her thumb over the swollen head of my erection.

I chuckle and then my attention is drawn to Skinner
pumping his cock a couple of strokes before he
rips his packet open and works the latex down his
length. The empty packets are discarded on the
floor as Skinner's fingers move along his rigid
flesh.

Man, that thing's some piece of work I think as
I contemplate his hard-on. And he's skillful with
it too, I muse, recalling more than one occasion
when he's reamed my ass in a way I would never
have imagined when he was doing it verbally back
at the Hoover.

"Mulder?" he rumbles, glancing at me as he seats
the condom's ring down near his balls.

"Yeah?" I pant, taking Scully's hips to steady
her as she prepares to lever up over my cock.

"You ever regret not still having that talent?
I mean the power to get in here," Skinner asks,
pointing at his head. I stare up into his deep,
brown eyes so open without his glasses, so filled
with love and desire.

"You mean now because it might add to the experience?"

"Yeah."

"No, not even at a time like this," I reply honestly.
"There are some things I regret, and invading the
privacy of your and Scully's thoughts is one of
them."

Skinner smiles at me and Scully does too.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too," Skinner whispers as well.

My throat clogs with emotion and I have to clear
it to answer.

"I...I love you both," I reply quietly, admiring
my partners in the flickering firelight.

We're silent for a moment, basking in that love
for each other, and then
finally Scully rises up. It takes her a moment
to balance and I assist her by holding her hips
as she guides my cock to her vulva. In a moment
she's sliding slowly down me. I watch my cock disappear
into her inch by inch and swallow hard at the exquisite
sensation.

"Oh, fuck...that's good," I gasp as she reaches
my balls. My hands splay out over her hips. She
tips forward, her hands on the couch back, to kiss
me hard on the lips.

I take her head in my hands and our tongues war,
our mouths devouring each other. I taste the heady
flavor of white wine, good whiskey, Scully...and
just a hint of Skinner's salty pre-cum on Scully's
tongue. Scully moans, throaty and deep. As Skinner
shifts in behind her, we break our kiss and lie
panting. He's backlit in the firelight, his face
like a sculpture of cut rock, his shadow falls
across us both, a powerful yet protective mantle
of darkness.

"Hold still," he says, placing a hand gently on
Scully's ass. I support her weight, running my
hands up her arms. My cock is tilted up inside
her but the way it pulls on my balls is incredibly
arousing. Her right hand traces my nipples before
she comes to rest against my chest and I slide
my arms onto her back.

"You feel good," she whispers as Skinner tosses
the towel next to my thigh and then pours some
Astroglide into his palm.

"So do you." I smile into her eyes.

I can't see Skinner's hand but I can tell by the
small gasp from Scully that his large fingers,
slick with lube warmed from his body heat, are
touching her anus, delicately coaxing it open and
probing inside.

After a few moments Scully rocks gently back and
forth and I join her, thrusting my hips in a slow
counterpoint to her sensuous pumping. Shit, that's
perfect I think as I savor the friction on my cock.

"Good?" Skinner asks, gazing down at both of us
as his right hand moves back and forth, in and
out from between Scully's ass cheeks. His left
hand massages her hip, steadying her.

"Oh yeah," I confirm with a grin.

"God, yes," she groans and then she bites her lip
just savoring the feeling.

Skinner looks at me and we share a moment of satisfaction
at bringing pleasure to Scully.

"Scully...you're phenomenal," I tell her as she
slides up and down my erection.

"I'll second that," Skinner agrees, stroking Scully's
ass cheek. "Exquisite."

Scully gives us a sensual laugh. She glances back
at Skinner and favors him with a sultry smile.
Then her head moves back and she smiles at me as
well.

"Well gentlemen, I can only say both of *you* are
outdoing yourselves right now. It certainly gives
me...inspiration."

Skinner and I both chuckle.

"Inspiration or perspiration?" Skinner rumbles,
flexing his fingers inside Scully's ass.

"You bastard," she moans and the moan ends on another
sensual chuckle. "Keep that up and I won't know
the difference."

Finally Skinner removes his hand from between Scully's
legs and pats her ass.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice ragged.

Scully nods.

"Ok, hang on," he replies, reaching for the Astroglide
again. He warms some in his hands once more and
then taking his cock in hand, slicks it up, moving
his fist up and down the latex. Once he wipes his
hands on the towel and discards it, I know he's
ready.

"Here we go," he warns huskily.

Scully inhales in anticipation. I rub her back,
and then lay one hand on her ass. Pulling gently
on her skin, I help to spread her open for Skinner.

Once Skinner's cock's in place against Scully's
anus, a careful, steady thrust slides it slowly
inside her. Scully exhales and then takes several
breaths in succession, relaxing in order to accept
what's entering her body as Skinner moves forward.
Finally, Skinner stops to gain some control as
well as let Scully get used to the intrusion of
his penis inside her. I watch his face twist in
excitement, his mouth opens and his breathing quickens.

"You ok, Scully?" he grates out.

Scully nods and turns her head slightly to look
at Skinner again.

"You...you both feel wonderful," she replies breathlessly.

"Jesus, so do you. And can you feel that, Mulder?
I can feel your cock right...there."

"Yeah...big guy...I can feel yours too. Fucking
incredible."

"That...that's an understatement."

"I...I need to..." Scully pants out, lifting slightly
to look into my face.

She has the face of an angel when we're making
love. It's almost more than I can stand sometimes
watching her face transformed by passion this way.

"Move?" I ask, panting myself now, the pressure
of her muscles gripping my cock and the added tightness
of Skinner's cock in such close proximity make
me grit my teeth. She nods, biting her lip again.

"Let me do the work," Skinner suggests, gathering
himself behind Scully's ass.

All I can manage is an affirming grunt. Scully
nods her head again and then Skinner takes both
of Scully's hips in his large hands. With one push
he drives her forward and then pulling, rocks her
back onto both our cocks.

"Oh Jesus," Scully gasps. Skinner stops instantly.

"You all right?" he asks, concerned for a moment
that he's hurt her.

"Yes...yes," she assures him, her voice breathless
again. Skinner smiles wide and rocks her back and
forth again and a long groan escapes my lips. I
can't help it...it feels so damn good.

A few more thrusts and we're rocking together,
as quietly as possible though because even in our
passion we're mindful of Charlie sleeping upstairs
at the other end of the house. A slow, steady rhythm
of contracting and then relaxing muscles, stentorian
breathing, grunts and low, breathless moans mark
the passage of time as the warmth from the fire
and our exertions make sweat break out over all
of us.

I cradle Scully as she slides over my groin, her
swollen clit rubbing between us. I can't really
thrust very well now, but I don't have to really
because Skinner's doing an admirable job of moving
Scully on my cock, and the sensation is almost
indescribable. To make the experience even more
of a rush, I can feel Skinner's cock through the
thin wall of skin and muscle inside Scully as the
head pulls back and pushes forward again and again
and again.

My hands sweep Scully's back, pulling her as close
as I can, wanting as much contact as possible.
It feels like my damp skin is practically melting
into hers. Scully buries her head in my neck, kissing
me over and over.

"Oh God...yes," she gasps in abandon, arching and
twisting as Skinner picks up the pace.

"That's it," I encourage her as she rocks faster.

"You're both so beautiful," Skinner gasps, and
I look up over Scully's head to watch his face
contort in a rictus of ecstasy. "Dana?" he pants,
her name a question.

"Mmmm, so close...just...don't...stop," Scully
moans.

Skinner grunts his assent, propelling Scully's
hips rapidly back and forth, his rhythm spastic
for a second and then I know he's coming because
his neck muscles strain taut and his cock jerks
where I can feel it inside Scully.

"Oh man...do it," I whisper as Skinner's jaws clench.
His body goes on autopilot then and for a moment
he and Scully are in a perfect point/counterpoint
of rapid rocking as she thrusts her hips as well.
It's an extraordinary sight.

Scully's breathing hard and as Skinner pushes his
cock a little deeper into her, I feel her inner
muscles spasm around my erection.

"Scully!" I huff out, biting off a louder cry.
I take her arms and support her as she starts to
climax.

"M-M-Mul..." she can't finish my name because she's
gasping as her whole body trembles with the intensity
of her orgasm.

Skinner continues to move, rubbing her quickly
against me, his hands gripping her hips firmly.

"There you go, lover," he mumbles, his chest rising
and falling with his deep breaths.

In a few moments, Scully comes back to herself.
  Skinner, sensing the relaxing of her muscles,
uses his own hips to keep up a slow thrusting for
my benefit.

"Mulder?" he asks, as Scully pushes off my chest
a fraction and gazes into my face.

"Almost," I grunt, the heavy pleasurable feeling
in my groin telling me I'm close to coming.

"Pull out," Scully advises, glancing back at Skinner.
"I'll help you," she adds, addressing me.

"Yeah," Skinner nods, stopping his weakening thrusts.
He grips the base of his cock, holding the condom
tight against it. When he steps back, his cock
slips out of Scully.

I swivel my head and watch as he sidesteps and
sits down heavily next to us on the couch. His
left hand touches Scully's hip briefly and then
my bicep before he pivots his upper body to watch
us.

Scully takes my chin and moves my head back so
I'm looking up into her face again.

"Come for me, Mulder," she whispers. My hands clutch
at her hips as she starts to ride up and down on
my cock, her ass lightly hitting my balls on the
down stroke. I gasp a chuckle.

"My pleasure, ma'am," I drawl and in a few moments
I'm arching and thrusting up into her, seeking
to fulfill her request. Almost, I think...it's...it's
just...right...there. Oh...yeah...

I hear the roar of thunder. Feel heat. The air
moves and it's as if the Archangel Gabriel sounds
his trumpet...and God walks over the world...

But when I wake this time it's to the light and
warmth of a friendly fire, and the comforting arms
of Skinner and Scully...and I know more than ever
that love works in mysterious ways...and I thank
God for my good fortune.

xXx

Additional notes: The two challenges were 1) to
write a story featuring hot smut with any pairing
of your choice and 2) to try writing something
you normally wouldn't write. I had 1 and 1/2 choices
for item 2, actually. I made Krycek a hero when
I usually prefer to write him as a villain, and
I wrote another babyfic, but since I've done them
before it's only fair that it's 1/2 choice. At
any rate, I hope you enjoyed both of my challenge
solutions. Thanks for reading.

Lyrics from "Leaving on a Jet Plane" copyright
Peter, Paul and Mary. Lyrics from Labyrinth copyright
David Bowie. No copyright infringement is intended
and no profit is being made from their use, either.


-THE END-

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TITLE: I Heard the Roar of Thunder
(Part 3 of 4 parts)
NAME: frogdoggie
FEEDBACK: frogdoggie@...
Additional headers, including Disclaimer can be
found in Part 1. Missing a part of this story or
just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here:
http://www.squidge.org/3wstop

@@@

Present intense...

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"Penny for your thoughts."

"I'm sorry, Scully. I was just thinking about...love,
amongst other things."

"Love?"

"Yeah, how love works in mysterious ways."

Scully gives me a playful raised eyebrow from her
position in front of the communal laptop.

"Oh?"

"Well...yeah," I chuckle, warming to the subject
and to her gaze as she studies me.  "The more I
think about it, I could argue that love somehow
saved the world from alien invasion."

Scully gives me an indulgent smile.

"I have to hear this," she says, pulling away from
the laptop and resting her back against the throw
pillows piled behind her.

I shift on the couch and return her smile.

"I'll be happy to elucidate," I reply. "It's my
theory that Krycek's love for Marita somehow caused
him to have an epiphany and go before that congressional
committee to expose the whole colonization effort."

"And I suppose love also had him persuade the other
members of the resistance, including the Jeremiah
Smiths, to create the vaccine that's protecting
us...and later the toxin that killed the grays?"
Scully answers, crossing her arms over her breasts.

I give her that kicked puppy look I know drives
her nuts.

"Well...of course I know you had something to do
with the vaccine and toxin. I would never discount
your contributions in any of this."

She chuckles.

"I know...I'm just 'yanking your chain'...as you're
fond of saying."

The wry look I shoot her makes her shake her head
again in amusement.

"Regardless...you can't deny that Krycek certainly
had a change of heart...and it was probably a result
of Cupid's arrow in said organ," I continue.

"Oh, so now we're dragging in mythological entities
as well as aliens," Scully teases, giving me another
raised eyebrow.

I give her a mock peeved look and she offers up
a very false, exaggerated sigh.

"All right, I'll concede that Krycek certainly
loves Marita. I'll allow that maybe that influenced
him somewhat. But you'll have to admit that Skinner
had something to do with persuading him as well...and
certainly Skinner's participation in the congressional
investigation helped in the long run too. And Mulder...you
can't discount your own efforts."

"Agreed...he says modestly...and you shouldn't
discount yours either."

"And I thank you, she says graciously."

A bemused smile traces Scully's lips but when it
disappears she clears her throat.

"Speaking of Krycek..."

My brow furrows a little. Krycek. After all he's
done...helping to haul my ass out of Tunisia, helping
to save the world, deactivating Skinner's nanocytes
and forming a truce with him after years of animosity...hell...even
working to make amends with Scully...I still can't
talk to Alex. Our issues run deep and I just haven't
been ready.

"Mulder...he did send you that e-mail. He's in
Moscow with Marita and he's willing to talk when
you're ready. I think you have to talk to him eventually."

I sigh and squeeze the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah, I know. We both should be in dialogue with
him." I'm beginning to resign myself to the inevitable.
"Ok...I'll e-mail him...tomorrow. I guess...I guess
I shouldn't put off talking to him any longer.
I'll extend the olive branch."

Scully makes a satisfied nod.

"So...Krycek and Marita qualify as love working
in mysterious ways," she replies, getting the conversation
back on a more pleasant track.

"Right. That's one example." I sit up straighter
on the couch and rub my hands together.

"You have more?"

Scully uncrosses her arms and taps a few keys,
logging off the Internet as I answer.

"Sure," I say, holding up two fingers. "Way number
two. Melvin Frohike's a husband and father."

Scully snorts a breath of laughter.

"Yes, that would qualify as most mysterious. You
have me there."

"Yeah, a year ago you'd never have expected him
to marry the doctor that treated Gibson and then
adopt the kid, now would you?"

"A petite, red-headed doctor," Scully chuckles,
shaking her head.

"Well...ok...maybe love isn't quite that mysterious.
But the rest?"

Scully grows a little pensive.

"I'm glad Doctor Carter was able to shut Gibson's
alien DNA off. He has to be a lot happier with
a quiet mind. But I'm sorry about his parents.
I wish they'd lived to testify before the committee
too."

I give her an understanding nod.

"I regret that too. But I think the kid's going
to do ok. The Lone Gunmen are still going strong,
and with Gibson's IQ I'm sure Langly and Byers
will be happy with a fourth member," I answer quietly.

Scully smiles again and nods. "I'm sure they will."

We stare at each other in silence for a few moments
and I meditate on just how much I love the woman
sitting in front of me. There wasn't anything mysterious
about it really...maybe stupidly hesitant and nervously
bumbling over the years but nothing mysterious.
I know I'm lucky in love. I'm privileged indeed
to be by Scully's side, to have her and our son
to cherish. And she's so beautiful, I think as
the warmth of sexual desire for her spreads from
between my legs through the rest of my body. I
pull my legs together a little as I feel my cock
stir. Scully clears her throat.

"So...you were saying..."

"Yes...more mysterious ways. Well...I saved one
of the best for last really. Love brought us Charlie.
I'll qualify it as a mysterious way because we'll
never really know how your fertility was restored
even though you and I and Skinner have discussed
and debated the possible reasons. But our love
brought us a son...and I'd like to think of it
as a beautiful mystery more than anything else
I guess."

Scully looks down; suddenly shy...I see a glint
of moisture under her eyelashes as she takes a
deep breath.

"Some people would call it a miracle," she whispers,
exhaling.

I smile at her bowed head.

"Yeah, I could call it that too," I whisper back.

She looks up and the tears are threatening to brim
up in her eyes but I know they won't fall. She's
smiling, and then she laughs.

"I'll get you into church yet, Fox Mulder."

I grin. She may get me there eventually at that;
I muse as I run a hand through my hair.

"Not if you use the 'F' word," I tease her.

She gives me a half-hearted exasperated gesture
and we both laugh for several moments. Finally
our laughter subsides and Scully shuts down the
laptop.

"We could almost use a fire tonight," she remarks,
telling me any discussion of church and/or possible
marriage isn't that important to her at the moment.
In truth, it's not a pressing life decision for
either one of us. We have time...all the time in
the world now to get there when we're both ready.

We *could* use a fire, I think. It's October after
all, nearly Halloween, and this year nights in
Georgetown are getting a little nippy now.

"Yeah, why don't I make one?" I suggest, tipping
my chin toward the fireplace.

I'm glad we bought this townhouse with the fireplace
on nights like this one. It's really a nice feature
and it was one thing that made the hefty mortgage
a little less of a sticker shock.

"All right. I'm going to go make sure Walter's
got Charlie well in hand. I'll be back down in
a minute."

"No need," Walter's bass rumble comes from the
living room doorway. Scully's head turns to take
him in and mine does as well. "He's bathed, in
his pajamas, been told a story, and now he's in
his crib and out like a light," Skinner adds with
a slight smile. "You know...we're going to have
to talk about a 'big kid' bed for him sooner rather
than later I bet. It seems like he's bigger every
time I see him."

"Oh...I missed the story," Scully replies, her
frown showing that she's a bit guilty.

"Well I explained to him that Mom needed a little
time with Dad so he settled down. He's pretty perceptive
for a two year old."

"Besides, Uncle Walter enjoys doing all those voices
but he'd die of embarrassment if anyone besides
Charlie heard him," I interject, smirking.

Skinner gives me a really withering look. But he
can't quite pull it off and ends up chuckling.


"Yeah, busted I guess."

"He is growing fast, I guess he's going to have
Mulder's height," Scully muses as Skinner enters
the room and shuts the sliding doors behind him.

He saunters over. His muscular jean clad legs carry
him to stand in back of the easy chair by the fireplace.
"We could use a fire," he remarks, pushing the
sleeves of his black Henley up his corded forearms.

"Mulder was just suggesting it," Scully volunteers,
smoothing down the material of her sweat pants.
"Right after our discussion about love working
in mysterious ways," she adds, a Mona Lisa smile
on her lips.

Skinner's ears actually turn red at her words and
I have to clamp down my jaw hard to keep from bursting
out in laughter.

When I said I'd saved one of the best ways love
works in mysterious ways for last when discussing
Charlie's birth earlier, I was certainly thinking
of the other best way that stands before us now.

Yes, Skinner was the remaining example of love
working in mysterious ways, and I think he still
has some trouble coping with the fact that he's
with us both now, no matter how much he enjoys
the relationship.

After all the years of guilt, self-hate, and self-recrimination,
I suppose it was difficult for him to realize he
could be loved and accepted by us. I know it was
difficult for him to become Scully's lover. It
wasn't something that had been easy for Scully
either. The fact they admitted they loved each
other too must have been an added shock as well.
However, they entered into the affair quite frankly
out of shared grief from losing me, and the desperate
loneliness of two people trying to support each
other while they bucked the system in order to
bring me back again.

But if Skinner's obvious contentment in our company
is any evidence, I know it was liberating for him
to finally admit that he did the best he could
over the years, and he did it primarily because
he loved us both. His idea that he betrayed my
trust by bedding the woman carrying my child was
mitigated eventually by the fact that in the end
I was just hedonistic enough to share...and so
was Scully.

I'd known he was in love with Scully the night
I sensed it of course. But his love for me was
something he'd kept hidden in the deepest recesses
of his soul. Even the times I was in his mind,
I never saw that hidden place where he kept that
feeling under wraps. It took a lot of trust for
him to finally admit it openly. I know he did it
out of respect for Scully and me, and also a healthy
dose of lust which I came to find out I didn't
mind any more than I minded the idea he loved Scully
as well.

I don't know, maybe I did sense something of his
thoughts in regards to his sexual desire for me.
Maybe it was gaydar more than anything...or more
accurately, bi-dar. It's not like I hadn't had
men before. I could have picked up on the vibe.

At any rate, I'm glad he's with Scully and me,
in mind, body and soul now. He treats Charlie like
his own son. He was there at his birth after all,
and helped take care of him for the first four
months of his life too so I know he loves the kid.
And to top it all off, he helped bring my son's
dad back to him too, of course.

So, even if Walter does still show some bewildered
embarrassment over the current state of affairs,
he's with the program. Scully and I couldn't be
happier with him, red ears and all.

"Uh...yeah...I can see where love working in mysterious
ways is definitely true," he chuckles, running
a hand over the back of his neck.

I finally can't hold it back any longer and burst
out with an explosive guffaw.
My uncontrolled chortling causes Scully to join
in.

"Oh fuck you," Skinner growls, shaking his head
in good humor at me.

"God, I hope you can stay on tonight and make that
more than just a pissy remark," I tease, sitting
up and flexing my arms a little.

I can see Skinner take in the movement of my lats
and pecs under my gray sweater. A smile of obvious
interest plays about his lips.

"Can you stay, Walter? It's Friday after all. Mulder's
done grading theses and I've already prepared my
test questions for Monday's forensic exam. So we're
free this weekend. You're welcome to stay. We'd
appreciate it if you looked over the outline for
the manuscript anyway." Scully pulls herself out
of her seated position in front of the laptop on
the coffee table as she addresses Skinner. She
crosses to the easy chair, sits and shifts her
upper body to look at him.

"I don't know why you just don't move in. You're
here so much anyway. Besides, the book's your story
too...it would make the collaboration easier if
you were living here," I interject as Skinner picks
up a log and tosses it into the fireplace.

"Well, I kept the apartment in Crystal City because
it's fairly close to the Hoover and convenient,"
he replies with a shrug. "You know how it is...there's
a lot to do as the new Deputy Director. I'm not
getting any younger, Mulder. I don't fancy sleeping
on my office couch if I can avoid it."

"You're in pretty good shape for an old fart,"
I tease, giving him the once over as he straightens
and dusts off his hands.

He chuckles.

"Yeah, well...I work at it. And for someone who
hit the big 4-O not that long ago, you're not doing
so badly yourself," he retorts, giving me a knowing
grin.

A smile flashes across Scully's lips and she looks
down, trying not to break out in gales of laughter
again.

"Ok, does this mutual admiration society mean you're
staying on for the weekend or considering moving
in permanently?" I ask, standing up to get some
tinder for the log Skinner placed in the grate.

"It means I'll stay the weekend. I'll give the
other some thought. Maybe once I get into the swing
of things in the new position at the Bureau we'll
see," he pronounces with a quick nod.

I cross to his side as Scully watches, a wider
smile on her face. The tinder gets tossed into
the grate. I pick up the matches from the mantle
and hand them to Skinner.

"Light my fire...sir," I deadpan.

"Oh blow me," he laughs and then he laughs even
harder at his words.

"Mulder...you're seriously bent, you know that?"

Scully is shaking with silent laughter now, unable
to even respond as Skinner and I stand face to
face, grinning at just the sheer pleasure of feeling
comfortable enough to participate in good-natured
banter with each other.

"Hey, you want a whiskey?" I finally ask.

"Yeah. Scully?"

"I think white wine for me," she manages to gasp
out, her laughter finally subsiding.

"Ok, coming right up," I advise. Leaving Skinner,
I walk to the nearby wet bar.

-END OF PART 3-

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TITLE: I Heard the Roar of Thunder
(Part 2 of 4 parts)
NAME: frogdoggie
FEEDBACK: frogdoggie@...
Additional headers, including Disclaimer can be
found in Part 1. Missing a part of this story or
just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here:
http://www.squidge.org/3wstop

xXx

The summer sun warmed my face but the sound of
seagulls was what actually woke me the next day.
I shifted and swiveled my head toward the window.
The curtains were open again; the window as well,
and the warm breeze was wonderful on my naked chest.

Scully sat in a chair by the window, highlighted
by the sun. Her red hair glowed like burnished
copper and my breath was almost taken away by her
beauty. Only almost however, because the little
owner of that inquisitive mind I'd touched sometime
earlier quickly distracted me. The owner was the
baby suckling eagerly, its small fingers kneading
at Scully's exposed breast.

"Mulder...this is your son," Scully whispered,
her eyes moist with tears again.

I stared, wide-eyed for a moment as Scully waited,
her face full of hope. Then I cleared my throat,
smiled, and managed to reply.

"He's got my appetite," I said, and Scully laughed.

"He does. And I think he has your nose too," she
replied, gazing with love down into the baby's
face.

"God...I hope he outgrows that...or at least into
it."

She looked up at my remark, shook her head with
good-humored exasperation and then we stared at
each other in silence for a moment. I'm a father,
I thought. A father. A mixture of wonder, fear
and unbridled euphoria coursed through my whole
body, one demanding precedence over the others.
Euphoria won out and happiness filled my heart...despite
my fears of ever being a decent parent.

I smiled. I smiled wide in satisfaction but also
from amusement because I could see my thoughts
mirrored in Scully's face. She's as scared as I
am, I thought...at the prospect of motherhood...but
equally as joyous.

"He's what...four months old?" I queried, clearing
my throat a little.

He looked so small...but sturdy...his arms appeared
strong and his legs the same. He had some downy,
auburn hair and I noticed a tiny birthmark on his
right leg just below his diaper line. A little
brown, star-like shape.  I contemplated the appropriateness
of that mark as Scully answered me.

"Yes. And he's the reason Skinner categorically
refused to let me go to Tunisia to help rescue
you."

Tunisia barely registered with me as my mind grasped
the concept that Scully and I had made a baby;
she'd gone through the pregnancy without me and
given birth without me. She'd had to face it all
without my support...and I'd missed those experiences
of first time fatherhood. I hardly knew what to
say, so I just ventured the first thing that entered
my head.

"I almost asked how," I replied with a self-deprecating
shake of my head. "But I guess the 'how' of his
conception is pretty obvious," I added, chuckling.
She chuckled too.

"Yes, we pretty much estimated his conception as
occurring on that first night you and I were together
as a matter-of-fact. I had no idea I was fertile
again when we made love. We still don't know what
happened to restore my fertility...although we
certainly have theories."

I could think of several and I supposed we'd discuss
them all later. I just nodded and watched my son
for a minute as he nursed. Finally I blinked and
spoke again.

"What's his name, Scully?"

"Charles...Charlie. I hope that's all right...I
had to name him something because I had him baptized,
so...it's Charles Patrick Mulder."

"Not Fox, Jr.? I'm *so* disappointed," I interrupted,
giving her a wry grin.

She gave me a patented, world-weary Scully look.

"No...I had a feeling that would be a bad idea,"
she replied, watching my eyes as if she was still
unsure my grin meant I didn't object to anything.

"Charlie's fine. I like the whole name, the baptism,
everything...really," I reassured her with a softer
smile.

"Ok, um...good," she replied with a small nod.
"Oh...and my...my mother picked Patrick. She remembered
you saying once that you had a favorite Uncle Pat
who passed away when you were young...and of course
for St. Patrick...." Scully's voice trailed off,
but the relief that I didn't object to the chosen
name was palpable in it before it did.

"Can I hold him?" I asked. "As soon as he's finished
of course."

As if he understood what I said, Scully's nipple
popped out of Charlie's mouth and he turned his
head my way.

"I guess that would be now," Scully observed, gently
moving the baby away from her chest. She pulled
her T-shirt down and cradled Charlie in her arms.

I levered up, still a little weak, as Scully rose
from the chair and approached the bed.

"You'll need to burp him," she advised an amused
smile on her lips.

"Ah...my first test of fatherhood," I murmured
as she handed me my son. "Hey, Charlie," I said
into his round little face. "You wanna puke some
milk up on your old dad?"

Charlie gave me a gassy grin and a bubble squeezed
from between his lips and burst while Scully snorted
her laughter.

"Here, you'll want this," she remarked, placing
the towel that had been on her shoulder over mine.

"Let's see...I think I remember how this works,"
I remarked, a sweet if poignant memory of my mother
placing Sam over her shoulder coming to mind.

As I got young Charlie settled on my shoulder and
rubbed his back, Scully watched us and I saw a
question in her eyes.

"Mulder...are you really ok with this?" she asked,
her voice a whisper.

And with her words I knew I was...I was more ok
with it than I'd been with almost anything else
in my life.

"Yeah, I am," I told her. "I really am."

Scully's smile was radiant then, one of those stellar
smiles she very seldom shared, but which I saw
that first time we made love. She smiled more than
once that night, it lit up her whole face, and
I went to sleep with that smile in my mind's eye
as she lay sleeping beside me.

She came over and sat down on the bed next to my
leg. Charlie gave a small burp and I continued
to pat him. Scully gave my leg a squeeze.

"I'll try to be a good father," I assured her,
then I shook my head a little in bemusement. "But
I have to tell you...this is so...new."

"I know. We'll both muddle through, Mulder. This
is very new for me too."

"There's bound to be a learning curve," I replied,
smiling a little.

"That's what Skinner said, actually," Scully replied,
glancing at me.

"Where *is* Skinner?" I asked.

"Good morning."

Right on cue I thought, as Scully and I both looked
toward the open bedroom door.

Skinner was standing barefoot, his muscular chest
naked, a pair of tight jeans clinging to his legs
and his T-shirt in hand.

"Hey," I said with a shy smile.

Skinner took in the scene and smiled shyly back.

"I see you met your son."

And also right on cue, Charlie let out a burp that
could have been made by an adult male of at least
Skinner's size, and promptly spit breast milk down
my back. All of us stared at each other for a second
and then we burst out laughing.

"He's a chip off the old block, all right," I coughed,
pulling Charlie back from the soggy towel. I held
him nose to nose and looked into his blue eyes.
"I bet that feels better, doesn't it?"

Charlie smiled as a little milky drool ran down
his chin and Scully scooted forward to take him
from me, a grin playing about her lips.

"Here, hand me the towel," she suggested, taking
Charlie and placing him in her lap.

Skinner stood in the doorway watching, his posture
indicative of someone who suddenly thinks they're
intruding.

"I took a run on the beach and then I showered,"
he offered. "Uh...we're in Maine, Mulder. Crossroads,
Maine. This is my sister and brother-in-law's summer
home. They loaned it to us because they're in Europe
for a year," he added as I handed Scully the folded
towel and she blotted Charlie's mouth.

"We...we wanted to bring you someplace bright and
warm and...well...someplace with fresh air where
it was peaceful. We thought it might help you to
wake up," she interjected.

"Or at least make it pleasant for you when you
did," Skinner finished, shifting his weight in
the doorway.

"I take it you both took a leave of absence?" I
queried, looking from Skinner to Scully.

"Yes," Scully answered, cradling Charlie, who seemed
content to take in the conversation now that he
was well fed and de-gassed.

"Yeah. Six months each. Look...why don't I go start
breakfast and we can talk about all this over it?"
Skinner suggested, pulling his T-shirt on over
his head. Scully looked at me and I nodded in affirmation.

"Sure. I'd like to shower and then I'll be down."

"Do you think you can manage by yourself?" Scully
asked, her brow furrowing a little.

I flexed my arms and naked legs under the bedding...and
smiled.

"Yeah, I think I can," I confirmed, pushing the
covers back a little. And I wanted to. I needed
just a few minutes of privacy to process what had
transpired in the last few...what seemed like lifetimes.

Scully's gaze turned to Skinner.

"Then I'll give you a hand," she said.

Skinner's face grew soft for a second when he looked
at Scully. When his gaze refocused on me, he'd
hidden his regard for her before he answered.

"How does bacon and eggs sound?"

"I think that sounds like something that can put
some weight back on my bones. Yeah, that'd be good,"
I replied with a grin. Scully rose from the side
of the bed, Charlie held close to her breast and
the soiled towel in her other hand.

"Great. See you shortly, Mulder," Skinner said.

"I'll put on some coffee too," Scully added, giving
me a last smile.

I nodded and as they left the room with Charlie
in Scully's arms. I contemplated just how I was
going to clue them in on the fact I knew they were
lovers, how I knew, and that oddly enough...I was
beginning to realize I wasn't bothered by the notion
they were lovers at all.

Oh yeah, we have a LOT to talk about, I told myself
again.

And talk we did.

-END OF PART 2-

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TITLE: I Heard the Roar of Thunder
(Part 1 of 4 parts)
NAME: frogdoggie
E-MAIL: frogdoggie@...
CATEGORY: SRA, M/SK/SC. Warning - graphic sexual
content of a threesome nature. Implied Slash.
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY:  Requiem happened, but after that things
took a slightly different turn. Mulder, Scully
and Skinner explore extreme possibilities...together.
Want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: http://www.squidge.org/3wstop
FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I
HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy
debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve
to warm me, body and soul.
ARCHIVE: Sure. Anywhere - as long as my name and
e-mail addy stay on it.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING. Post-colonization, I
guess. Everything up to and including Requiem.
This is a Doggett free universe.
KEYWORDS: story romance angst Mulder Scully Skinner
NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner
and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris
Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century
FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is
intended and no profit is being made from their
use.

Author's note: This story is kind a of hybrid in
that it's an entry in two "I Want to Believe" list
challenges. To find out what the two challenges
were, see my additional notes at the end. Once
again, thanks to my fellow Believers for the inspiration.

Many thanks to Susan for her incomparable beta
and Truthygirl for invaluable suggestions.

I Heard the Roar of Thunder
by frogdoggie

Past imperfect...

The darkest darkness alternating with the brightest,
blinding light. Pain, upon pain, upon pain and
then...blessed oblivion.

I floated for a long time. Unable to communicate,
comatose, my thoughts a crazy quilt of disjointed
impressions...like someone skipped a rock across
the pool of my memory forming disconnected ripples
across my consciousness.

I heard the roar of thunder. Felt heat. The air
moved and it was like the Archangel Gabriel's trumpet
sounded and God walked over the world...

I thought I heard God...and he had the voice of
John Byers. He spoke and he said...

"Is he still alive?"

And then God had the voice of Alex Krycek answering.

"Oh yeah, he's alive. Talk about if looks could
kill. Mulder...if you can hear me as well as you
can see me...it wasn't my fucking fault. Now, we're
here to get you out. Hang on."

I remember...a whoosh of...fire...smelled...heard.


"Shit, that was one hell of an explosion, Frohike."

"Oh yeah, that flamethrower Skinner's using is
one mean son of a bitch."

"Mulder's going under again. Let's get him the
hell out of here."

"Krycek!"

"Here, Skinner!"

"Jesus...is he alive?"

"Yeah, he's alive. Barely. Come on, help me."

"Mulder...don't you die on us...you understand?
That's an order, Agent."

And I thought...Skinner is God...Skinner...Skinner,
where's Scully?

xXx

Later I remember...Skinner, coldcocking Krycek
so hard the blow knocked the bastard flat on his
back.

"*Now* we're even," Skinner saying in that rumbling
voice of his.

Krycek laughing despite the pain. Skinner offering
him his hand, and Krycek clasping it, pulling himself
up.

Did I see or merely sense the handshake of a wary
truce?  At the time I had no idea and my thoughts
spiraled away until I heard the sound of an engine...

Jet engine. Plane taking me somewhere and I couldn't
get that blasted song by...by Peter, Paul and Mary
out of my head. Damn it to hell I was going on
a plane somewhere and all I could think of was...1960s...song
lyrics. 'I'm leavin' on a jet plane. I don't know
when I'll be back again. Oh, babe, I hate to go'.
Hate to go? Somehow I didn't think so. But going
from where to where? I just couldn't put my finger
on it.

Someone...Skinner saying, "He's still out."

"Yeah, but his eyes are moving under his eyelids,
man. He's doing the REM sleep boogie, big guy.
Oh hell...give Byers the barf bag."

"I don't think he's asleep, Langly, I think he's
unconscious."

"Then how come his eyes are moving around under
there? That's more indicative of REM sleep dreaming."

"I'm not a doctor. I have no idea."

"Maybe it's something they did to him."

"Langly...where's Krycek?"

"He's up with the pilot. They've got Scully on
the radio. Man, Byers...not on my boots."

"I'm going forward, you and Frohike make sure Mulder
stays secure. Frohike...you said you know how to
change the IV and cath bag?"

"Got it covered, G-man. I'll check on the boy again
too. Byers, you with us?"

"Yes, sorry, guys. I just don't do well on airplanes."

"There's some Dramamine in my duffel bag, John.
Take it. No sense in suffering."

"Thank you, Mr. Skinner."

"You think Mulder'll come out of it, Frohike?"

"I hope to hell he does, Ringo. I really hope he
does."

I remember at the time that all I really cared
about in overhearing this conversation was the
name 'Scully' and the prospect that I'd be with
her soon.

xXx

It's dark in your mind...time passes and you don't
know if it's night or day or...spring...summer...fall...winter...or
who's there or who's not...and then I heard the
voice of a boy...in the darkness of my mind.

/Mr. Mulder?/

/Who?/

/Do you remember the ship? Do you remember me on
the ship?/

/I...remember...yes...you...you're Gibson...Gibson
Praise?/

/Yes./

/I remember thinking...you'd grown./

/I'm older...so are you./

/How much older?/

/I'm not sure. I don't think very much older. And
I can still talk like this./

/We both can./

/Yes, just like on the ship. But I still can't
wake up. Can you?/

/No. Gibson...where are you?/

/On the plane with you. I...I guess we have to
wait a little longer before we can wake up./

/Wait...wait for what?/

/Until it lets us go./

xXx

You remind me of the babe.
What babe?
The babe with the power?
What power?
The power of Voodoo.
Who do?
You do.
Do what?
Remind me of the babe.

I heard Gibson's voice one moment and in some glam-rock
inspired hallucination, David Bowie's from that
film Labyrinth the next, and then I suddenly felt...clean
sheets. Warm sun on my face and the smell of perfume
overlaying antiseptic. Scully...and a hospital.
Where?

"Mulder? I don't know if you can hear me or not,
but you're in DC and you're safe. We've run a battery
of tests. So far, under the circumstances, you're
doing well. You have some injuries that looked
worse than they actually are...nothing life threatening.
For what it's worth, we found evidence they removed
all the chips. You were somewhat dehydrated but
we've got you hydrated again. I just...damn it...I
just can't figure out why..."

"How's he doing?"

"He's the same. This is as frustrating as hell.
All the tests, including the EEG were normal."

"Scully...we don't know what they did to him."

"The tests should show something. Even when he
was suffering from his earlier brain anomalies
the EEG showed up as abnormal. I can't get a handle
on why he's in this coma."

"God, Dana...if only...if only I could take back
what happened to him..."

"You...you can't go on blaming yourself. It's not
your fault they
took him; not my fault, not his fault...it's no
one's fault."

"I understand...but it's still not easy for me.
You know that."

"I know. All right, look. When the tests  are done
we need to talk about where we'll take him. I don't...I
don't want  to leave him here. I don't want him
in this place."

"Agreed. Let me see what I can come up with in
that regard. I have some ideas...I just need to
call in a few favors."

"Thank you...Walter."

"Listen...it's the least I can do. Hang in there.
I'll be back as soon as I can."

I heard a woman holding back tears as she whispered
words. "We'll solve this, Mulder," she said...and
then the tears broke through and I knew again it
was Scully. "I love you, we'll fight this," she
declared with vehemence.

I love you too, Scully, I thought...and damn it...when
'it lets me go' I'll say it too.

xXx

I heard a baby crying. High pitched bird-like sounds
that faded to the mumbling of voices I couldn't
quite make out. I think I opened my eyes and saw
it was night...I wasn't sure.

Later on I felt something in my head...I came close
to laughing maniacally...if I'd been capable yet
of vocalizing that night. Voodoo, I thought...the
"IT"...whatever 'IT' was Gibson spoke about was
in there...and it hadn't let me go yet. A tiny
tendril...a thread of the power I sensed in my
mind snaked out and I promptly felt the mind of
someone nearby. Joyously primitive thoughts so
alive...hearing, seeing, learning from his environment.
His diaper had been wet but he was dry, content
and asleep now. He dreamed of a big man with kind,
brown eyes and large, gentle hands. For some reason
'IT' pulled away as if not quite interested, and
cast about again... listening...seeking...

I heard the sound of sex. Two people making love.
The man was rutting hard, his thoughts a jumbled
confusion of a selfless wish to please his partner,
guilt and blissful satisfaction. The woman was
in the throes of climax, a cry of passion issuing
from her lips and I was distracted from her thoughts
only tasting a trace of regret that quickly spiraled
away in the heat of fulfillment, respect and love.
I told myself I'd know that voice anywhere as she
cried out incoherently. Scully. And I couldn't
help it...the power surged forward and I felt...Skinner's
orgasm build and roil up, exploding through him,
his body convulsing as he bit back his moans, mind
screaming in utter joy...he...he loves.... he loves
her...I could feel it...Skinner was in love with
Scully...and she loves him too...I felt his ecstasy
and hers as well...compounding in electric feedback...and
then thousands upon thousands of short, sharp shocks
in my head...short...sharp...short...circuit...and...I
passed out. It was the last time I ever sensed
anything that way again.

xXx

When I woke up it was to the smell of something
salty, a soft, muted light and the touch of two
large, but gentle hands bathing me in a tub of
warm, soapy water.

"Son of a bitch," Skinner exclaimed in shock and
pleasure. "Scully!" he yelled.

I thought the smell of salt was from her thankful,
elated tears.

xXx

"How long?" I managed to croak out, through a throat
unused to speaking.

Skinner supported me, holding my arm as I sat down
on the edge of the bed in a bedroom with large
windows that faced the ocean. I could hear the
surf and see the stars through the open curtains.
I felt a warm summer breeze on my skin and didn't
even flinch at my nakedness. And yes, I thought...that
ocean breeze is where the smell of salt had come
from.

"Almost fourteen months," Scully told me, rubbing
my shoulders with a big, soft, hunter green towel.


"We found you a little over two weeks ago," Skinner
added. "You've been comatose since then. It's August
9, 2001."

"We've been doing physical therapy but if you feel
a bit weak, don't be surprised," Scully warned
as she rubbed my arms with the towel to get my
circulation going.

I tried to whistle in response but spat instead
and Skinner chuckled through the tears he couldn't
stop from trickling down his face.

"Welcome back," he rumbled, patting me on the shoulder.

I smiled at him, still groggy, and then looked
at Scully.

"I love you," I whispered, pinning her eyes.

"Oh, Mulder. I love you too," she said, hugging
my shoulders through the towel. She sat down next
to me and kissed me carefully on the cheek. Her
arm snaked around my waist and she hugged me tight.

I rested my head on Scully's shoulder. Skinner
shifted, hesitant, and then he sat down next to
me on the bed. I felt his arm tentatively drape
over my shoulder.
"Thank you," I murmured, giving him a quick grin.

He nodded, his lips twitching a smile.

My leg snuggled into his jean-lad thigh. It felt
good to be between them both. Comforting, and natural
and good. We sat there, silent, just breathing
together, touching...until I looked up. There was
a mirror above the dresser across the room.

Is that me, I thought in dismay, knowing full well
it was. I stared slack-jawed at the bleary eyed,
wild-haired, skinny scarecrow sitting between Scully's
petite form and Skinner's muscular bulk. At least
I'm clean and shaved, I thought closing my mouth.
I examined the unusual pattern of pale, round red
scars running down both my cheeks. My eyes traveled
to the thin, red scar over my sternum as well.
I ran my tongue over the roof of my mouth and I
could feel a slight ridge there, tenderness. The
pain when I touched the spot caused me to remember
some of what they did to me.

"I'm alive," was all I could say, and saying it
I realized that no matter what had happened to
me, that was the only important thing.

Scully squeezed me tight again and Skinner rubbed
my bicep with his warm hand.

"And safe," he replied in a soft voice.

The next thing I knew they were helping me into
bed.

"Get some sleep, Mulder. We have a lot to talk
about in the morning," Skinner said, his voice
a little hoarse with emotion.

"Talk...yes," I mumbled as Scully kissed my forehead
and took her leave. We had a lot to talk about
for sure.
-END OF PART 1-

___________________________________________________________________
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DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Twenty ~


An hour into his trip, Ty stopped the snowmobile.  Twisting around
in his seat, he popped open the saddlebags on the back of the machine
and pulled out a thermos of coffee.  Unscrewing the cap, he took a
long sip before recapping the container.  Rummaging around in the
saddlebags, his hands brushed against something familiar.  He smiled
at the welcome sight of the small red and yellow bag of Cheetos.
Balancing the thermos between his thighs, he pinched the edges of the
bag between his fingers and pulled it open.  Happily crunching on the
cheesy treat - his one indulgence in the foods of the whites - he
made quick work of the bag.  Sighing regretfully when the bag was
empty, he shook the crumbs into his mouth and licked the orange
residue of the cheese dust from his fingertips.  Gulping down another
mouthful of coffee, he stuffed the empty bag into his pocket and
secured the thermos back in the saddlebag.  Twisting the ignition
switch, he leaned over the handlebars and once again was racing
toward Mt. Vu'luk.

***********

The trip to Barrow was very short - only about twenty minutes - but
it beat a longer, potentially dangerous trip by snowmobile.  A myriad
of lakes and low rough tundra would have made snowmobiling
treacherous, especially for anyone unfamiliar with the terrain.
Mulder figured they could try it at a later date, if they needed to
return.

Privately he wondered if they would want to return to Barrow - to
leave the village.  It was so unlike him to feel reluctance at
reaching out and embracing the unknown.  All his life he'd been
curious, needing to know - digging for whatever truth he'd been
committed to discovering.

Suddenly a part of him wanted nothing more than to hibernate, and
let the anguish outside his small new world suffer itself out, and
not suck him in.  It was selfish and short-minded and completely
against his professional code of ethics... and yet there it was.  Not
exactly fear, so much as dread.  And worry, too - mostly because he
was now responsible for someone other than himself, though he'd
always felt that way for Scully.

It was different now.  He was different.  Marriage had made it
different - and it made no sense.  He was still the same person that
loved his partner to distraction. A ring on his finger should not
change things, but it did.

The Lear touched down lightly on a small runway; in the distance he
saw a great deal of frozen ice and recalled that Barrow was
surrounded by hundreds of lakes.  Skinner released the flaps and they
stepped out onto ice.  With a start Mulder realized the runway was
actually a lake.  He looked at Mary, catching her attention and
pointing to the ice beneath them.

"Ice - this is a lake?  What about flying in the summer?  Doesn't
this melt at all?"  Mary smiled and shook her head.

"The summer melts the surface of the more shallow lakes.  Some of
these are very deep and others are little more than ponds.  This is a
winter runway, easier to keep clear.  The main runway is used once in
a while during winter, but this one is closer to town.  We can walk
from here."

They slung their packs over their shoulders and started their trek
into Barrow.

It took them ten minutes to reach the town limits, which looked
deserted.  They'd been told only a hundred or so people had stayed
behind, and as it was already dusk out they had not been expecting
anyone to meet them.  Mary led them down Browerville Road toward the
residential area.  As they walked, she spoke of Barrow.

"The town has always been a mixture of old and new.  Sixty percent
Native, mostly Inupiaq, and there are three schools and one bank.
This early in the evening everyone will be over at the community
center.  Sophie figured they'd move there - leave their homes and
find a way to live together.  Safety in numbers, I suppose."  Skinner
looked off into the distance; it was darkening fast.  Small houses
lined the narrow street and lights were on here and there.

Up ahead a low, rambling building loomed in the darkness, lights on
in almost every window.  Several ornate, snow-speckled totems stood
guard along the front walkway, and a series of tribal masks were
carved into the rough wooden exterior, each brightly painted.  The
double doors were unlocked; Mary led them through - and into another
world.

Here the Native influence was the norm, unfamiliar to Mulder and
Skinner, yet somehow comfortable.  There were sacred carvings and war
masks, tribal symbols painted on walls - bright patterns of black and
red and white.  Mulder noticed the raven figured heavily into most of
the artwork and tribal symbols, and he remembered what Jon Honea had
said about the sacredness of the large scavenging bird.

In the main Great Room about thirty people were gathered, quietly
talking amongst themselves.  Mary called a soft greeting and they all
rushed to her, hugging and clasping hands, relief and happiness
apparent on the faces of her friends as they exclaimed over her.
Mulder and Skinner stood back politely, until Mary laughingly
extricated herself and turned to perform introductions.

"Mr. Mulder and Mr. Skinner used to work for the FBI, and some of
you have already heard from them via email.  They will explain to you
why this happened - and what we need to do from here, to survive."
She looked at Mulder.  So did Skinner, both of them confident to have
him lead the discussion.  Their faith in him meant a lot, given the
uncertainties he'd experienced lately.  Mulder smiled reassuringly at
his small audience, and began.

"First of all, I should tell you that the immediate danger is past,
but you cannot let your guard down.  It's not over yet..."

An hour later, the group had come to several conclusions, and
agreements.  These were very intelligent people; it hadn't taken them
long to realize that the food drops were infected.  The majority of
the older Native population usually refused processed products, and
they grieved for those younger members who had consumed the infected
foodstuffs.  A committee was formed to collect the remaining tainted
food, and destroy it.  The group, when told of the conspiracy, could
only shake their heads in sorrow.  Their relationship with the
Federal government had been shaky but mostly beneficial over the
years. The betrayal they now felt was great.

**********

Scully pushed open the door to the clinic and flipped on the lights.
Shivering, she twisted the dial on the thermostat.  Leaving her coat
on until the warm air blowing gently through the vents had taken the
chill out of the clinic, she grabbed a box of supplies and began to
unpack them.  She was stuffing rolls of bandages into a closet when
she heard the whine of machinery in the distance.  Cocking her head
to one side, she walked over to the door and pulled it open.  She
stepped outside and looked around for the source of the sound that
seemed to be growing closer.  Suddenly, over the horizon, at the edge
of the town, she could see a snowmobile racing toward the village.
The rider was making no attempt to reduce his speed as he crossed
into the village.  Scully hastily stepped back into the doorway as
the snowmobile raced past her.  She stuck her head back out of the
door and watched in horror as the rider lost control of his vehicle.
The snowmobile careened wildly about and suddenly seemed to slip out
from beneath the rider who was flung from the speeding vehicle.
Scully winced as she saw his body arch into the air before landing in
a sickening heap in the snow.

She raced toward the fallen rider and dropped to her knees at his
side.  Peeling off her gloves, she turned his face toward her.  Blood
streamed down the side of his face from a large gash on his temple,
coating her fingers as she felt for a pulse.  The rider groaned and
rolled his head restlessly in the snow.  The young man, a boy really,
no older than seventeen, had the dark hair and skin of the Inupiaqs
and Scully wondered if he was from one of the surrounding villages.

She gently probed the gash on his forehead and called to him, trying
to rouse him.  "Can you hear me?" she asked, patting his cheeks with
her fingers.  "Come on, I need you to wake up now," she said
encouragingly.  The young man groaned and licked his lips.  He rolled
his head back and forth, his fingers reaching toward the injury on
his head as he moaned softly.  Scully ran her hands over his arms and
torso, then down his legs, searching for broken bones.  Finding none,
she looked back into the face of her patient.  She could see his
eyelids fluttering and she leaned very close to him, calling to him
softly.

She could hear excited voices and looked up to see several of the
villagers hurrying toward her.  Dropping her gaze back to the young
man, she began to speak to him again.  "What's your name?" she asked,
willing him to open his eyes.  He rubbed his forehead fretfully and
finally, his eyelids drifted open and he stared directly at her.
Scully scrambled away from his body in terror as she saw the black
oil swirl over his dark eyes.  Glancing fearfully at her bloodstained
fingers, she plunged her hands into the snow, furiously scrubbing
them.  Her fingers were aching with the cold and she stuffed her
hands back into her gloves and stood up to intercept the villagers.

"Ty!" Beverly cried as she hurried toward her young cousin.  Scully
stepped into her path and used her body to block the other woman.

"No!" she cried, holding out her gloved hands in front of her body.

The villagers stopped, surprised at her vehemence.  "That's Ty!"
Beverly protested, trying to step around Scully.  "He needs help!"
Scully clutched the woman's arm tightly and whirled her away from the
young man lying in the snow.

"You can't!" she shouted.  "He's infected!"  She continued to hold
onto Beverly and looked up in relief at the sight of her brother
loping across the snow.

"What's going on?" Bill demanded as he leaned over the upended
snowmobile to turn off the motor.  In the sudden silence, Scully kept
her eyes fastened on Beverly's as she tried to explain.

"That's Ty," she told her brother.  "The young man Mulder spoke with
by e-mail yesterday."  Looking around at the people
surrounding her, she shook her head and loosened her grip on
Beverly's arm.  "I don't know how, but he's been infected by the
virus," she said sadly.  "You can't touch him."  She leaned her face
close to Beverly's for a moment then looked up at the others.  "Do
you understand what I'm telling you?" she asked.  "This virus is
highly contagious and none of you have been exposed to it."  Her
fierce eyes scanned over the villagers as she tried to impress on
them the importance of not coming into contact with an infected
person.

Her smile was sympathetic as Beverly slumped in defeat then lifted
hopeful eyes toward Scully's.  "Can you help him?" she begged.
Scully shook her head.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.  She knelt in the snow next to Ty,
her hands hovering impotently over his crumpled form, terrified to
touch him again.  The boy coughed and once again opened his eyes to
look at her.  Scully forced herself not to flinch as the oil drifted
over his eyes in a horrifying pattern.  The black film cleared for a
moment, just as it had done with Charlie, and she could see the fear
in his dark brown eyes.

"Ty," she said urgently, leaned as close to him as she dared.
"You've been infected with the virus," she told him sorrowfully.  Ty
coughed again and a thin line of oil trickled down his chin.

"Cheetos," he rasped painfully.  Scully shook her head and looked at
the others in confusion.  She glanced back down at the stricken boy.

"I don't understand," she told him.

"Cheetos," he repeated.  "They're my weakness," he confessed in a
thin voice.  His smile was self-mocking as he realized he had signed
his death warrant by giving into the temptation of his favorite
snack.  "Are you the doctor?" he wheezed.  Scully nodded and reached
out tentatively to stroke her gloved fingertips over his forehead,
pushing back an unruly lock of hair.

"Can you heal me?" the boy asked, hopefully.  Scully's fingers
faltered as they brushed over his forehead and she shook her head
sadly.

"I'm so sorry," she told him.  "I'm trying to work on a vaccine, but
right now... I'm very, very sorry, Ty."  Bright tears clung to her
lashes, spilling down her cheek.  "There's nothing I can do for you,"
she whispered.  Tears slipped from the corners of the boy's eyes,
running back into his hair.

"Then I need you to help me," he said as his pleading eyes locked
onto hers.  Scully broke away from his intense gaze and lifted her
eyes heavenward.  How many, Lord?  She railed inwardly.  How many
people am I going to have to kill before this is over?  Keeping a
tight rein on her emotions, she nodded and scrambled to her feet.

"Please," she said.  "Please, for your own sakes, don't touch him."
Scully looked at her brother for help.  "Bill?"  He nodded.

"Go ahead, we'll wait here," he told her.  He watched, surprised
that she hadn't run back to her cabin to retrieve her gun.

Scully walked woodenly to a cabinet in one of the treatment rooms
and jerked open the door.  Pulling supplies out of the cabinet, she
found what she was looking for.  Clutching the items in her hands,
she turned toward the door, spinning back to the closet and
impulsively grabbing a few more things from it.  Hurrying back
outside, she knelt in the snow by the dying boy's side.

"Ty," she called.  He rolled his head toward her again and tried to
smile.  Scully gnawed on her lower lip as she contemplated the
enormity of this thing she was going to ask of him.

"I need to take some samples of your blood first," she told him.
"Please.  I think it will be helpful in my research," she said
awkwardly.  Ty swallowed hard and nodded, weakly lifting his arm off
the ground and offering it to her.  Scully knuckled tears out of her
eyes as she unzipped his coat, easing his arm out of the sleeve.
Rolling up the sleeve of his thermal shirt, she tore open an alcohol
wipe and swiped it over the flesh on the inside of his elbow.  She
tore the wrapper from a syringe and placed the needle against the
soft skin she had just prepared.  Her heart tripped wildly as she saw
the lines of the oil squirming and wriggling beneath his skin.
Changing her plans, she pierced his skin with the needle, chasing the
squiggling lines of the alien invader and drawing them into the
syringe.  She pierced his flesh over and over, apologizing each time,
as she aggressively pursued the squirming lines of the oil.

When she was satisfied that she had gathered an ample portion, she
pulled the needle tip from the syringe and quickly capped it, setting
the vial into the snow.  She picked up another syringe and this time
she withdrew his blood, filling six vials with the bright red liquid.
Setting the blood filled vials aside, she fumbled in her pockets for
the rest of her supplies.  She pulled out another syringe and plunged
the long bore needle into the bottle of morphine that she had taken
from the supply closet in the clinic.  Filling the syringe with a
lethal dose of the narcotic, she looked up at the people gathered
around them.

"It's the only thing we can do," she said, begging them with her
eyes to understand and to forgive what she was going to do next.  Her
new neighbors clutched each other tightly and Beverly called out in a
grief-stricken voice.

"I love you, Ty."

Scully pulled at the boy's shirt, exposing his chest to the cold.
Her eyes were compassionate, sad, angry and frightened as she met his
gaze.  The oil was swirling in strange patterns over his eyes, one
second obscuring them from her and the next leaving him clear-eyed.

"I'm ready," he told her as he closed his eyes and turned his face
away from hers.  Scully lifted her hand over his chest, whispering a
muffled prayer as she thrust the needle into his chest in one hard
motion, pushing the plunger down and sending the lethal dose of
medicine into his heart.  Ty arched and cried out as the morphine
flooded his system.  His body jerked twice before settling into the
snow.  Still... still as death.

Scully stood and hung her head as the oath she had taken as a doctor
leaped into her mind.  'First do no harm," it began and she fought
back the bitter tears that were blurring the image of this poor boy
lying dead by her hand in the snow at her feet.  Gulping in a deep
breath, she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks and faced the
others.

"We need to burn his body," she said apologetically.  "It's the only
way I know to kill this thing."   Beverly was leaning heavily on
Sophie, the older woman supporting the younger as tears trickled
down their cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Scully said brokenly as she turned away.  She
swallowed hard and pressed on.  "We can't wait," she said.  Even now,
the black oil was oozing from his eyes and nose, pooling beneath his
head, and staining the snow black.

Manly stepped forward.  "In the spring, we hold a gathering for all
of the villages to celebrate the long days and returning sun.  The
gathering lasts for two days and there is dancing and singing and
eating.  We cook enough for everyone to eat in a large stone pit."
His voice broke and he cleared his throat, struggling for an even
breath to continue.

"The pit... it will be big enough for what we need to do," he
finished.  Scully nodded.

"The fire has to burn very hot and very long," she cautioned. Manly
nodded and turned, trudging wearily to set up for the gruesome task
of building the fire.  Scully looked at her brother.  "Bill - go with
him," she asked softly.  Bill looked at his younger sister closely
for a moment before following Manly across the snow.  Scully watched
Bill set off after the other man to help him build the funeral pyre.
Swallowing heavily, Scully stepped closer to Beverly.

"Why don't you go home and lie down," she suggested gently as she
studied the other woman's face with worried eyes.  Beverly shook her
head and pulled herself up.

"No," she said in a strong voice.  "No. I want to be with him."
Scully nodded, understanding Beverly's need to see her cousin through
to the end.

"Go on, then," she said, tilting her head toward the place where
Bill and Manly labored over the stone pit.  "I'll bring him," she
promised as she glanced down at Ty's still form.  Sophie murmured
softly to Beverly and the two women slowly made their way across the
snowfield to join Bill and Manly.  Scully looked up as several other
villagers remained nearby.

"Patrick," she said gesturing to the dark-eyed man.  Patrick's head
jerked up when she called his name.  Scully glanced down at Ty and
then looked back up at Patrick.  "Would you please get Reverend
Honea?" she asked softly.  Patrick nodded solemnly and turned toward
the cluster of cabins at the far end of the village.  "And Patrick,"
she called after him.  He spun back around to face her.

"Yeah, Doc - what else do you need?" he asked.  Scully glanced
around the quiet village.

"You'd better let the others know," she said.  Patrick sighed
heavily and hung his head for a moment.

"Yeah," he muttered.  "Yeah, alright."  He turned again and sprinted
toward the cabins.  Scully waited until he was gone before turning
back to Ty.  She grabbed the vials filled with Ty's blood and the oil
and carried them into the clinic, carefully checking that the caps on
the vials were secure before setting them down in the tiny
refrigerator in the office.  She grabbed a galvanized steel bucket
from a closet and carried it outside with her.  Scully gently moved
the boy's body and scooped the snow stained with his blood and the
oil into the bucket and set it aside.  She'd come back for it later;
she would keep it frozen and use it in her attempts to create a
vaccine against this monstrous enemy...

Crouching down, she slipped her arms under Ty's locking her hands
across his chest and began to pull him across the snow.  Halfway
across the expanse of the village, she stopped to catch her breath.
Ty was not very tall and his body had not matured into the heavier
muscled frame of a man, but Scully was nonetheless exhausted from
dragging him through the snow.  Yet she couldn't allow anyone else to
come into contact with him.  As it was, she feared for her own health
and prayed that her body had built up immunity to the virus.

The villagers waited and watched as the tiny woman struggled to pull
the young man's body through the snow.  When she was less than ten
yards away, she stopped again, panting heavily.  Her hair was damp
with sweat and her face was flushed with exertion. She took a deep
breath and tugged him the rest of the way.  The pit was about three
feet deep and was surrounded by stone and mortar.  Bill and Manly had
filled the pit with firewood and coal.  A canister of kerosene rested
near Manly's feet.  Scully struggled awkwardly to pull Ty's body onto
the pyre, raising a warning hand when Bill stepped forward to assist
her.

"No!" she called out sharply.  "Stay back!"  Bill aborted his
forward movement and fell into place beside Manly again.  Scully's
breath escaped her in harsh pants as she labored to maneuver Ty onto
the pyre.  At last she stepped back and reached for the kerosene,
liberally dousing the boy's body and soaking the wood and coals
beneath him as well.

All of the surviving members of the village were there with a few
exceptions.  Tara had stayed in their cabin with the children,
reluctant to expose them to more death.  She had offered to stay with
Michael as well, but the boy felt that his place was at the funeral.
He had followed his grandfather through the village.  Now, Jon
murmured a quiet prayer, commending Ty's soul to God and voicing the
hope that in Ty's death, they would find an answer to a way to
survive in this new world.

Manly and Bill had soaked rags in the kerosene and wrapped them
around the ends of several pieces of firewood.  Now they lit the rags
and tossed the wood into the pit.  The fire ignited with a whoosh and
a roar as flames quickly engulfed the pyre and Ty's body.  Scully
looked down and saw that her parka was stained with his blood.  She
stripped off her gloves and parka and tossed them into the pit as
well, hoping that she was doing everything possible to eradicate the
presence of the virus from the village.

Now she stood, apart from the others, shivering in the cold,
watching the flames shoot into the darkening sky, berating herself
for not being able to do more; for not being able to save Ty.  Guilt
and sorrow bore down heavily on her and she could not lift her head
to look at the others.  She was startled by a touch on her arm.
Looking up, she saw Sarah Tuluum slip out of her own parka before
draping it around Scully's shoulders.

"Oh no, Sarah," Scully protested.  "I can't take your coat!"  She
shrugged out of the coat and tried to hand it back to the other
woman.  Sarah shook her head and pushed the parka back toward Scully.

"I've lived here all of my life," she told the younger woman.  "I'm
used to this cold, but you are not."  Once again, she draped the coat
over Scully's shoulders.  "Keep the coat, Doctor," she admonished.
"We cannot afford for you to become ill.  Besides, I have other coats
in my home."

The kindness and acceptance that she saw in Sarah's eyes humbled
Scully.  Smiling gratefully, she slipped her arms into the sleeves,
closing her eyes momentarily in relief from the biting cold.  She
wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulder and the two women watched as
the flames danced and climbed into the dusky sky.

**********
end of chapter twenty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

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______________________________
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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Title: Nothing Else
Author: Maggie ( mulderitsme@... )
Summary: "It is not what it is." I don't
want to say anything more than that.
Rating: R
Classification: S, MSR
Disclaimer: I made this, he made them.
Spoilers: Definitely none for unaired eps.
Feedback: Please, yes. It's 'like water for
chocolate.' mulderitsme@...

Notes: I am not saying it is post TINH, or
that it has any spoilers for it, you should be
your own judge of that.  Plus, it comes
with *Jeri's* big old stamp of approval,
(thanks Jeri) and if she says to read it,
you should. So, just, oh, come on, read it...
if you hate it you can flame me. And thanks
Amanda for fixing the format, yet again.

**********************


She is fixated on her task. More and more
she finds she has to do this now, focus on
the thing at hand, or it is apt to get away
from her all together. Right now she needs
to find her shoes.

She looks under the dresser and under the
bed. She moves aside random items that
obscure her view. Tossing a pair of pajama
bottoms out of her way, she finds her blue
heels. For one moment she looks around the
disaster area that used to be her solace,
her resting place. This is not her. She does
not live this way. But it all seems so
unimportant now, so trivial.

She brushes some dried mud off of the toe of
the shoe in her hand, then her eyes begin to
scan the bedroom once again. It comes to her
more like an echo in her mind than an actual
thought, 'These are not the right shoes'.
Pointless, yes, but something ingrained in
her says that she can not wear navy blue
shoes with a black dress.

The damp towel that was hung on the back of
the wooden chair is knocked onto the floor.
She picks it up and carries it with her to
the bathroom.

There they are, her good black pumps, laying
on the bathroom floor next to two pair of
discarded nylons. She thinks about picking
up the nylons, soaking them in the sink with
a little Woolite. Never mind that, she tells
herself. She doesn't have time and it
doesn't matter anyway. None of this- dirty
nylons, wet towels, water marks on her
mahogany Chippendale chair- these things
mean nothing. Less than nothing.

Still she checks for runs in the hose she's
wearing and steals a cursory look at herself
in the full length mirror.

"I'm fine," she avows to no one.

Her arm stretches behind her and tugs the
zipper with it on its way back. So unused to
wearing dresses, she wonders if it is the
proper garment after all. He always loved
this dress, so, right or wrong she is
keeping it on now. Not that she has much
choice in the matter. She looks herself up
and down- from the front and then from the
side, cupping her hands protectively over
the almost imperceptible mound that, small
as it is, makes it impossible for her to
wear any skirt that hangs in her closet.

She reaches for the little black and white
bag of makeup and rifles through varying
shades of lipstick and rouge. She bickers
with herself as she applies the tiniest
traces of color to the paleness of her face.

'Nothing too bright, nothing too showy. Do
you even own anything showy? No. Just
natural, subtle. No mascara, don't be
foolish. Don't take chances with mascara,
your mother told you that a long time ago. .
.'

She stops and stares into the ocean of her
own eyes, then brushes a small amount of
shadow just under the orbital bone. She used
to really like her eyes, thought they were
one of her better features. But now they
seem to hold a perpetual red-rimmed
weariness. These eyes have witnessed more
horrors that any should have to. These eyes
have betrayed her, failed her in searches,
in reading emotions, in holding back tears.
Whether from the life she lives or the life
that lives within her, she is tired. She
can't hide it with makeup or anything else.
It won't work, so she doesn't even try.

  Her mind quickly scans the possibilities of
paths not taken. Paths that would have left
her better for the wear. She used to lead a
life uninteresting. Of course, she never
thought it was uninteresting until she was
assigned to the X-Files, until she let her
small hand reach out to him and be
enveloped. She didn't know then that her
heart would be soon to follow. At first, he
eclipsed her completely, with his fervent
search for truth and righteousness. She
didn't know how to contain that fire, she
didn't even know how to be so close to it.
But somewhere, somehow, she warmed to his
ideas, to him. Somehow the passion came. It
took residence in her very being, until his
quest became her quest, his dreams, her own.
And then, before she knew what happened, it
became 'theirs,' doled out evenly so it was
no less important to one than the other. It
melded them together. And any life before
that, if there really was one, paled in the
light of her life with Mulder.

She breathes in, then out.

  When the final bit of shine is padded off
the tip of her nose, she regards her
appearance. 'Suitable' is the only word that
will come to her mind. She is not yet
accustomed to this life, this body, this
self in which she now inhabits. She wonders
if she ever will be. Her fingers slide up
the front of the dress and come to rest on
the tiny gold cross that resides in the
hollow of her neck. She feels a shuddering
sigh travel past her fingers and breaks free
from the reverie. 'Suitable' will have to be
good enough.

The knock on the door is firm and solid.

She takes another cleansing breath before
leaving her station at the mirror and
walking the familiar path to the door.

She unlatches the lock, and opens it wide.

Even now, after all the time she's known him
and the time she's come to know him again,
he takes her breath away.

"Hello, again," he grins. If he ever said he
didn't gaze at her, it was a lie. He gazed
at her for years when he thought she wasn't
looking. He gazed at her for hours when he
knew she was asleep. Now he unashamedly
bathes her in his gaze.

His heart pumps the words to his head, but
his lips remain silent. 'Show her that you
have loved her from the depths of despair to
the highest lofts of heaven. You already
know she loves you, too.'

"You look beautiful." He finally mutters,
and when she smiles, her beauty multiplies.

"Thank you. Thank you . . . Mulder." It
feels so good to say his name. "The house is
a mess."

He tilts his head, "It doesn't matter."

She smiles again, "I know." They have
exchanged these words several times in the
few days since he has been home.

"Scully," the look in his eyes is enough to
make her swoon like a romance novel heroine.
"I know I said I'd take you out tonight,
that we would leave the bed and eat a real
meal. I know you got all . . . gussied up
for me, but," he chuckles a sigh, "I don't
want to go anywhere. There is no way I could
keep my hands off of you for any longer
than. . ." he looks at his watch, "How long
have I been standing here?"

"About two minutes."

"There is no way I could keep my hands off
of you for any longer than two minutes." He
pulls her to him in slow-dance fashion,
making his hips bear against hers with a
promising pressure. He sways her left, then
right, watching how her hair flows softly
over her shoulders. "See?" He spins her
around, "You know. . . I have always loved
this dress." If she keeps smiling at him
like this, he won't make it to the bedroom.
"Are all pregnant women this sexy? Why have
I never noticed this before?"

"You never noticed before because you were
never looking."

"This is true. My eyes were trained to you a
long time ago. . ." He leads her forward
while Nat King Cole croons 'Stardust' in his
mind.

. . . two, three, four.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I love it when you use cheap lines on me."

"I only do it because you're so easy."

. . .two, three, four

"Only with you, dear, only with you."

He dips her at the doorway to her bedroom.
Upside down, she notes the unmade bed, the
pile of laundry. "Mulder, maybe I should. . ."

"Would you really rather be doing laundry?"

The giggle vibrates in her throat, and he
smiles against it. "No."

"I didn't think so. And why bother making
the bed? We're just going to mess it up,
aren't we?"

"I was hoping so."

He brings her upright and holds her so close
that she can feel his muscles move through
his clothing. He lowers his head so that his
lips rest on her ear. She closes her eyes
and takes the opportunity to drink in the
warm, scented skin of his neck.

"God, Scully," he whispers, "how I dreamed
of coming home to you. . ."

"Shh. . ." she rakes her fingers through his
hair, "It doesn't matter. Nothing else
matters anymore."

He nods approvingly against her, "Nothing
but us. Nothing but this."

He lifts her so her legs are draped
elegantly over the bend in his arm and her
head rests gently on his shoulder. In three
long strides he is at the bed, and he sets
her down next to it. With his arms around
her, he finds the zipper and lowers it,
letting the black fabric pool at her feet.
His fingers glide down her sides and hook
the nylons and underpants at her hipbones.
He takes himself down with them, stopping
first to lay a kiss on the sweetly rounded
flesh of her stomach, and finally at her
feet. When she steps out of the shoes and
all the earthly encumbrances, he stands.

Her hands are there, waiting, raised
delicate as flower petals. He leans in
toward her and she unbuttons his shirt.
First the top one, grazing his Adam's apple
with her thumbnail, then each of the other
buttons in succession. When she finishes he
lets it fall off his shoulders to the floor.
Her hands tremble and he helps her with the
buckle to his belt, but as soon as that is
done, she regains control, moving his hands
aside and undoing his pants on her own. She
recreates the fluid motion he made when he
released her from her pantyhose, and rids
him quickly of the khaki pants and cotton
boxers. She kneels at his feet, as he did
hers, and waits for him to step free of
everything that bound him.

When she stands, he lets his fingers brush
the outside of her arms, then he leans and
touches his lips to hers. She closes her
eyes at the magnitude of power that simple
contact holds. She feels the all too
familiar lump rising in her throat, but
wills it down. She will not cry again
tonight. He leaves the kiss to push
everything off of the mattress; the bathrobe
she wore this morning, the underwear, the
coat hanger that held her dress, the
comforter and both pillows.

He climbs up on the now barren space and
reaches for her. "Nothing but us," he says,
and she repeats it.

It has become their mantra, a unified prayer
and affirmation. It is an understanding
beyond all understandings, that this love is
important enough to move heaven and earth,
stars and starships, hearts and souls.

She clutches his hand and he pulls her
aboard. It is their life raft, he thinks.
They are adrift in the sea of the
unexplained. He wraps himself around her,
laying feather soft kisses on her shoulders,
her neck, her breasts, while her hands float
over him with a knowledge of his body no one
else has ever had. She knows him. She is the
only one who ever did. He rethinks his
analogy. It is she who is the life raft. She
has saved him every day for as long as he
can remember. Anything before that isn't
worth remembering anyway.

Mere days ago, she thought she would never
feel whole again. Never be completely alive.
She silently hopes she never gets over
whatever miracle put him back on the path to
her door. His lips have made it to that
place behind her ear, and pleasure washes
over her. She is lost again. Lost, but
found. With him. Always with him.

Nothing else matters.



*****

So? Come on... please? Please...?
Feedback wholeheartedly apreciated and responded to.
mulderitsme@...



[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Title: My First X Files Story by Fisher-Price!
Author: Ann Larimer, Everheart@..., http://www.geocities.com/lensbeetle/
Category and/or Keywords: Badfic, Gen, MOTW, Mulder, Scully, Skinner.
Rating: PG for violence and audience abuse.
Spoilers: Not a one.
Disclaimer: The X Files belongs to 1013 and Fox. No infringement is intended of
anyone or anything, anywhere, ever. No eyeless albino newts were harmed in the
writing of this story. May cause nerve damage. Soda spew warning.
Summary: Badfic. Bad, bad, bad, *bad*, badfic.


My First X Files Story by Fisher-Price!

by Ann Larimer (Age 8)

Um...so okay, once upon a time, there was a big monster that lived in a forest.
And...um...it ate people. So they called the police -- not the people who had
been eaten, but their friends who hadn't -- and the police called the FBI. The
FBI gave the case to Mulder and Scully, the agents from the X Files!

So Mulder and Scully went out to the forest to look for the monster. They
brought their flashlights and their guns and some granola, and they wore extra
thick socks in case they had to spend the night in the woods, 'cause you never
know. They had to order extra big handcuffs from the FBI supply people, because
they knew regular ones wouldn't work on a big monster.

Scully and Mulder found big big prints that looked as though they might have
been monster prints, and decided to follow them.

First they came to a hollow tree.

Mulder knocked on the tree. "Have you seen a monster?"

A brown bear stuck its head out of the hollow and said, "The monster doesn't
live here. This tree is too small for a monster. My cubs and I live here. Now go
away or I'll claw your face off."

"Thank you," said Mulder, and he and Scully continued on their way.

The big giant footprints then led to a cave.

Scully used her flashlight to rap on the stone mouth of the cave. It made a
ringing, echoing sound. "Hey! Is there a monster in there?"

After a few moments, a group of eyeless albino newts wandered to the mouth of
the cave. The sunlight was so strong that Mulder and Scully could practically
see through them. It was pretty gross. "No," said the eyeless albino newts. "We
don't like the monster, so when he comes by, we all jump in the water at the
bottom of the cave so that he thinks it's not good to drink."

"Why would he think that?" Scully asked.

"Would you drink water that was full of eyeless albino newts?" replied the
eyeless albino newts.

"I suppose not," Scully said. "Thanks for your time."

Mulder and Scully followed the big giant footprints until they came to a forest
ranger's cabin.

Together, they shone their flashlights into the windows.

There were chunks of forest ranger *everywhere.* There was even a forest ranger
foot still inside a forest ranger sock and shoe, near the hearth.

"He must have been toasting marshmallows when he died," said Scully.

"This monster is evil!" said Mulder.

Scully and Mulder pulled out their guns. Mulder kicked in the door to the cabin.
There was the monster! He was sitting at the ranger's table, eating the ranger's
head with the ranger's own cutlery and linen.

"Put down that ranger head!" cried Scully.

"Do it NOW!" added Mulder.

"Mrghpf, rrrrrf gnf," said the monster disdainfully. Not only was the monster
vicious and evil, but ill-mannered as well.

Nobody likes it when you talk to them with your mouth full, whether it's full of
ranger or something else. Mulder and Scully shot the monster dead.

Back in Washington, Assistant Director Skinner read their report. "You did a
good job, Mulder and Scully," he said. "I will not fire you this week. Now go
back to the basement."

Mulder and Scully went back to the basement, which is where their office was,
and waited for their next exciting adventure!

The end.

--Ann
http://www.geocities.com/lensbeetle/

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Nineteen ~

Scully pushed open the door and let herself into the quiet cabin.
After their first full day in the village Bill, Tara and the kids had
moved to the cabin on the far side and Michael had settled in
comfortably with his Aunt Mary and grandfather Jon.  Nanook was now
shedding her fur on their carpet instead of Scully's - and Skinner
had decided to stay as close to Mary and Jon as possible and had the
cabin on the other side of them...

She peeked through the small rooms; Mulder was nowhere to be found.
She sighed wearily as she looked around, noticing how very little
she'd managed to accomplish in the way of unpacking and settling in.
She would have to remedy that... maybe later.

Scully pushed aside the heavy curtain covering the window and looked
outside.  Only three o'clock in the afternoon and with the exception
of the lights strung between the cabins in the village, it was pitch
black outside.  She stretched out on the sofa and opened one of the
medical textbooks she had taken from the clinic.  It was time for a
crash course in virology.

After nearly three hours of reading, Scully leaned her head against
the arm of the sofa.  She rubbed her eyes tiredly, already regretting
the fact that her glasses and contact lenses had been left behind in
D.C.  A headache was brewing behind her eyes.  Thirty minutes later,
Mulder walked into the warm cabin to find his wife curled up on the
sofa, surrounded by textbooks and scraps of paper.  Scully was
startled awake when she felt the sofa cushions shift beneath her.

"Mulder?" She pushed herself up on one elbow to find him sitting
beside her.

"Hey," he said softly, pushing back a strand of hair that had
tumbled onto her forehead.  "Whatcha doing?" he asked, glancing at
the mess around them.  Scully sighed and rolled her head against the
sofa arm.

"Research," she said grimacing as she tried to rub a kink out of the
back of her neck.  Mulder helped her sit up and slipped behind her,
settling both hands on her shoulders and kneading the tension out of
them.

"What have you been up to?" Scully asked as her head fell forward, a
tiny moan of pleasure escaping her lips.  Mulder slid his hands up
and down the curve of her spine.

"We all met at the gathering hall for a little while and then Manly
gave us a final test in operating the power plant and the water-
filtering treatment plant.  I think we passed."  He smoothed his hand
over her hair and pulled her back against his chest.  "We're not as
cut off and isolated as I had originally thought," he said, leaning
his cheek against her hair.  "Today I was able to contact Nan's son
Ty, the kid who's coming in from Barrow.  He told me that the younger
people there and the white population died after they ate food from a
recent air drop."

Scully turned to look at him, her eyes wide and worried.  "How
recent, Mulder?  As recent as a few weeks?"  He nodded unhappily.

"Ty says the drop was only two weeks ago.  He's a traditional
Inupiaq and refuses to eat processed food. That adherence to Native
ways might just have saved his life."  Mulder rested his chin on her
head and thought about their vital, yet fragile link to the outside
world.

"I don't know how long the Internet will be available to us," he
added as he thought of the massive destruction that had taken place
worldwide.  "But we'll have to take advantage of it while it's still
accessible.  And we have to get hold of the guys - as soon as they
come out of their self-induced covert lurking," he finished.  Scully
nodded.

"There's a computer at the clinic too," she mentioned.  Mulder
turned his head and peered at her in the softly lit room.

"Tell me about the clinic," he prompted softly.  Nestling deeper
into her husband's arms, Scully described the clinic to him.  Her
surprise and pleasure at finding such a well-appointed facility was
evident in her voice.

"Mary and I will devote one day a week to seeing patients, unless
there is a medical emergency," she told him.  "The rest of our time
will be spent working on the vaccine."  She worried her bottom lip
with her teeth.  "But Mulder, we don't have the right equipment," she
complained quietly.  Mulder eased her onto his lap and touched his
fingers to her cheek, turning her face toward his.

"Like what?" he asked curiously.  Scully huffed out an exasperated
breath.

"Like a centrifuge, for one thing.  A high-powered electron
microscope..." She flung a hand out toward the books and papers
scattered around them.  "I don't know," she said.  "I just - I really
don't know..." her voice trailed off and she buried her face in his
shoulder.  "I don't know if I can do this," she admitted against his
throat.  Mulder heard the fear in her voice and he sought to soothe
her.

"Look, we'll figure out some way to get the equipment you need," he
told her.  "And I think we're safe from the virus here, so you don't
have to rush through this," he said.  "You do your research.  I'll
help you in any way I can," he promised.  Mulder stared deeply into
her eyes.  "I think," he said, as his fingers traced the line of her
jaw, "I think that you can do anything that you put your mind to," he
told her.  "Just remember you're not in this alone."

Scully nestled her cheek against his shift and relaxed in his
embrace.  She threw her arms around his neck in surprise when he
shifted and stood, lifting her in his arms.

"Mulder," she exclaimed.  "What are you doing?"  Mulder laughed and
clutched her tightly in his embrace.

"It seems to me, Mrs. Mulder," he said, slowly picking his way
through the mess of books and papers toward the bedroom door, "that
we're still on our honeymoon."  His smile was slow and sexy and as he
lowered his mouth to hers, Scully surrendered and left her worries
outside of the bedroom door.

**********

Another day - a busy one.  Tara had spent part of it reading through
home school textbooks she'd pulled from the schoolhouse, knowing
she'd need to begin teaching Michael as soon as possible.  She had
spoken to Beverly about it, receiving an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Although Beverly had done some home-schooling before it wasn't really
her level of expertise.  She was glad to give the job over to someone
actually educated to teach... even if for now it was for just one
child.  There was always the possibility of more survivors showing up
in the village - and they might have children.  Tara wanted to be
prepared.

The hectic day, full of preparing classes and trying to finalize the
unpacking and settling a new place, getting to know new people - and
running after two rambunctious children - had wiped out Bill and
Tara.  The unrelenting darkness also went a long way toward
convincing their tired bodies of the need for sleep.

During the past days Tara had spent a lot of time with Beverly and
Sarah, writing down everything they told her as they ran through a
vast mental inventory of items that ranged from a silver tea set to
complete rooms of furniture.  There were many deserted houses, owned
by villagers who'd had to leave everything behind when they were
ordered to evacuate.  Sarah listed every family with children,
knowing the little ones of Tara's would need many warm clothes - and
explaining as gently as possible that the warmest clothes the
newcomers had brought with them most likely would not be enough once
the deep winter hit.  And Tara suddenly understood a lot better just
what she and her family were truly up against.

She didn't know whether to be excited - or hysterical.

Now the village was quiet; everyone was exhausted.  Across the
street a single light glowed in the cabin Mulder and Scully had
taken.  Tara had spent a lot of time moving in the rest of their
belongings and preparing their beds.  A visit with Sophie that first
full day had yielded bed and bath linens, furniture and kitchen
supplies left behind by her next-door neighbors.  When Sophie had
assured Tara that she and the other newcomers could have anything
they needed, at first Tara had demurred. Remarking that these folks
would need their things once they returned to the village... Sophie
had met her with a sad smile and had pressed her hand with gnarled,
arthritic fingers - and her reply had sent a chill through Tara.

"Oh, my dear - I think we both know our fellow friends and family
will not be needing that which they left behind.  I am old, but I am
practical.  They will not come back.  I will miss them for the rest
of my life - and I take comfort knowing I will see them again in our
next existence."  Tara had nodded, and had found a way to smile
around the lump in her throat.

Now the sleeping children were bundled up in their thick flannel
blankets and sheets, warm and cozy.  Bill had built up a decent fire
and the cabin was toasty.  They had eaten venison soup for dinner and
had even had a dessert of canned blueberries over sweet biscuits.
Tummies full and no TV to watch or books to read... bed seemed like
the reasonable thing to do.

While Bill made do in the tiny, rustic bathroom, Tara opened up the
bed in the smaller room and laid Matty in for the night.  She handed
him a teddy bear that had belonged to one of Sarah's nieces, and
kissed his little forehead as he muttered in his sleep and wrapped
himself around the battered toy.  They had found a sturdy crib in one
of the sheds and had made up a very comfortable bed for Meggie, who
now lay snuggled in with her rabbit, sucking her thumb with gusto as
she snored little baby-snorts.

In the larger bedroom Bill left the doors open to help distribute
the heat from the stove, and dove underneath the thick cover of their
bed, landing next to his wife in a heap of long legs and thermal
underwear and wool socks.  He felt for Tara's leg, and chuckled when
he encountered her thigh, fully loaded with the thickness of about
four layers of clothes.

"God, Tara... what're you going to do when it gets really cold?"
She huffed indignantly at him.

"Bill, it's already cold.  Right now I'm very, very cold.  I expect
I'll get used to it sooner or later but right now it's sooner than
later, and I'm cold."  With that snappy comeback Tara reached out
five afore-mentioned cold fingers and burrowed them into a part of
Bill's anatomy that did not deal well with ice...

Bill screamed.  Loudly.

"Jesus Joyce and Fred, Tara!  Your fingers are like goddamn ice!  I
think you've injured me for life - either that, or permanently
decimated any reproductive chances I may have for the future!"  Tara
paid him no heed whatsoever, having found a great place in which to
warm her cold hands.  She promptly shoved her other hand into the
same general vicinity, and giggled when Bill sucked in a tense breath
and cursed again, this time in a quieter tone, remembering the
children in the next room.  He turned his head and glared at her
through the flickering firelight from the outer room.

"Tara, you're killing me here, you know that, don't you?  Is there
some other place you could possibly warm up your hands, besides my
balls?"  Tara batted her eyelashes at him.

"Sure, Bill - I could always shove them between MY legs and warm
them there.  But I was saving that particular heating pad for
whatever part of you that needs warming... Sweetheart."  The low,
teasing words vibrated straight through Bill Scully and got his
circulation going again.  He grinned at his mischievous wife and
pushed against her hands.

"Are you getting feisty, Tara?  I'm shocked.  A sweet innocent girl
like you..." His wife snorted into her pillow and her nimble fingers,
now nicely warmed up, moved against him.  Bill groaned.

"Not innocent any longer, thanks to you... now I'm one of those
loose girls the nuns were always whispering about in the faculty
lounge.  Now I've got a rep to protect."  She moved closer to her
husband and licked a path from his jaw to the center of his chin,
lapping at the indentation below his bottom lip before covering his
mouth fully with hers, and kissing him deeply.  Bill slid his big
hands underneath her bulky clothing, searching in vain for a spot of
bare skin.  Finding nothing but assorted layers of flannel and
cotton, he huffed in frustration against her mouth, muttering.

"Take off a few pounds of clothes before I go nuts, Tara - I can't
get to you!"  He let go and pushed her away, far enough to tug at her
thick sweater.  Tara laughingly began peeling off layers, flinging
them on the floor as she watched her husband's reaction to her little
strip show.  She stopped at the last cotton thermal shirt, and her
eyes glittered in the dim light.

"You'd better find something to cover me with, Bill - something hot.
I'm going to be one huge goosebump as soon as I take this off..."
Bill agreeably slipped his body over hers, pressing her down into the
flannel sheets beneath her, wrapping himself all around her.  He
nuzzled her ear and nipped the lobe, then soothed the bite with his
tongue.

"Not all your goosebumps, I hope... here are two very sweet bumps
I'd like to keep as is."  He followed his words with his mouth,
opening it over a small nipple and tenderly stroking her.  Tara
wrapped her arms around his broad back and sighed into his hair as he
kissed and nuzzled her body.  Loving Bill was always so sweet... so
very sweet.  He could be a grouch and a smart-ass; could open his
mouth and say all the wrong things and could drive her absolutely
batty with frustration over his stubbornness.  But nobody was more
tender and sweet to love, than her Bill... nobody.  She returned all
his kisses with equal amounts of her own caresses, and when he moved
to part her legs and slid inside her, Tara held him tightly and her
gasps and moans were buried against his shoulder as Bill thrust
deeply, touching the very heart of her.  Deep and hard, yet sweet.
She whispered it into his sweat-dampened hair mere seconds after she
shuddered all around him, and felt him tighten in response and begin
to release within her.

"My Sweetheart... Billy... so sweet..."

They fell asleep cocooned in warmth, joined together in body and
hearts beating in time.

**************


Mid-morning found only a few of the group up and functioning; it was
still somewhat dark outside, though the day was slowly breaking.
Loud yapping and barking broke into the quiet of the day, as the big
Husky dove into fresh piles of new snow, snorting enthusiastically,
rolling in the yard of Mary's cabin.  Around the corner Skinner
slapped another log on the block and split it neatly in two, then
turned the log and divided it in half once more.  He'd been chopping
wood for almost an hour and had peeled off layers of outerwear; clad
in a down vest and a thick flannel shirt his face still shone with
perspiration.  A lantern filled with kerosene hung on a nail in the
cabin wall, high enough to illuminate enough of the chopping area to
afford him some basic safety.

It was hard work but Skinner welcomed the opportunity for physical
exercise.  He was used to running several miles a day, working out on
weight machines and sometimes catching an evening swim in the pool at
his building.  Now he would have to find alternate means of fitness.
Judging by the amount of work that would have to be done every day,
just to keep the village operating... he didn't think he'd have a
problem staying in shape.

Just as he bent down for another log, a huge furry body tackled him
from behind, and Skinner found himself face down in the snow with a
hundred pounds of Nanook sitting on him, happily licking his neck and
any other part of his face she could reach.  Skinner spit out a
mouthful of snow and roared at the overjoyed dog.

"Get OFF me, you horse!  You - blecch!"  Anything else he'd been
about to say was swallowed up when he turned his head to glare at the
unrepentant pup and she promptly licked him right in his open mouth.
The dog had the worst breath he'd smelled in a long time, Skinner
decided, as he tried to wipe his mouth; Nanook immediately grabbed
hold of the sleeve of his shirt and tried to play tug-of-war with his
arm, still half-sitting on him.   Finally Skinner was able to get
enough of his arms free to push the heavy dog away, sitting up and
keeping a hand on the happy animal's shoulder, stopping her from
jumping him again.  He started to chuckle when the dog plopped its
rump down in the snow and slobbered all over his hand; it had been a
long time since any sort of female had attacked him like that...

"Nanook likes you."  The soft young voice came from behind him;
Skinner whipped around and saw Michael standing a few feet away,
hands in the pockets of his old parka and booted feet kicking idly at
clumps of snow.  The child was smiling very shyly; Skinner found
himself smiling in return. He ruffled the dog's thick fur before
letting her go.

"She's a nice dog.  A little over-friendly... but there's nothing
bad about that.  But her breath -!  She needs her teeth cleaned.
What do you feed her?"

Michael thought for a moment.  "Well - leftovers, mostly.  Dad used
to forget to get feed and Mom would just give her the scraps.  Lots
of fish-heads.  Nanook loves them.  She chews them right up, scales
and all."  Skinner could feel his gorge rise at the mental image of
this magnificent dog sitting with a nasty fish head propped in her
paws, gnawing away.  He managed a smile.

"Well, no wonder her breath reeks.  I'd say she needs some good old-
fashioned meat bones!"  No sooner were the words out of Skinner's
mouth than the dog began to root in the snow nearby the woodpile,
finally unearthing a huge bone and squatting down on her haunches to
munch in contentment.  Skinner gawked; he'd never seen an animal bone
that big.  He asked, "What IS that?"  The boy laughed at the
amazement apparent in Skinner's voice.

"It's a leg bone, back on the hindquarter - from a moose that Manly
killed a few months ago.  Nanook found it the first day we got here
and she's been workin' on it ever since.  It'll take her a long time
to eat it all."  Michael sat down in the snow next to his beloved pet
and scratched her head while she chomped, feeling the vibration of
her crunching teeth against the bone.  He looked up at the big man
who'd picked up the axe and another log to chop - and he was shy and
curious all at the same time.

"Are you and my Aunt Mary dating?"  The innocent yet frank question
stopped Skinner in mid-swing, and he lowered the axe and stared at
the boy.

"I just met your aunt, Michael - why would you think something like
that?"  Michael blushed, but bravely blundered on.

"She looks at you. And you look at her.  You know... that look.  My
dad... he used to look at my mom that way.  My sister looked at her
boyfriends that way.  I just wondered, that's all."  A shrug from one
thin shoulder made the asking seem very casual - but Skinner was able
to see beyond the nonchalance.  He put aside the axe and pushed the
log off the stump, then sat down on it and regarded Michael with a
serious expression on his face.

"I think your Aunt Mary is a very nice lady.  I think she is very
strong and very brave.  But she just lost her husband, whom she loved
very much.  I would never think she's ready to date someone else -
and I would respect her wishes above all.  I would respect her."
Michael had been searching Skinner's eyes while he'd been speaking -
and must have found what he was looking for because he nodded, and
smiled at the big man.

"I think my Aunt Mary likes you.  I think I do, too - and I know
Nanook does.  She doesn't just kiss any old person she meets.  She's
choosy.  Just like my Aunt Mary."  With those revealing words Michael
smiled another little shy smile, got up and left, whistling to his
dog.  Skinner stared after both of them, the thin Native boy and the
bounding dog... and a wide smile spread across his face.  He picked
up his axe and got back to work, humming a little.

*************

The morning the men chose to fly into Barrow was clear but cold.
Mulder tromped through the loose snow, keeping to the road and doing
his best to avoid the potholes.  The pack he carried was heavy and
either it wasn't as cold as he'd originally thought, or he was
becoming acclimated to the snow very quickly, for he was actually
working up a sweat.

He reached the runway a few minutes later; Skinner was already
there, pumping fuel.  They had found a small fuel tank on wheels;
Manly had called it a 'dewar cart'.  Since the main fuel tanks sat at
the end of the runway it was easier to pull the little dewar cart
behind a snowmobile and fill it up at the tanks, then bring it back
to the jet and pump.  Skinner had discovered one full dewar
equaled one full tank on the jet.

Now Mulder called to his ex-AD and friend, "How's it coming?"
Skinner's head popped around the side of the jet, wiping
perspiration from his face.

"Almost done.  Damn, it's hot."  Mulder chuckled at the sight of the
big guy fanning at his clothes with one hand while he pumped fuel
with the other.  Obviously Skinner had acclimated even more quickly
than the rest of them, for his parka and watch cap were draped over a
wing and he wore only a thick sweater over his jeans and a heavy pair
of work gloves.  Mulder reached the open flap and dumped his bag
inside, then walked around to the side of the jet where Skinner was
just topping off.  They had decided to take the larger Lear, in case
some of the Barrow folks wanted to leave.  Somehow Mulder doubted
they would.

He ran a hand along the Lear's gleaming side, commenting, "It was a
real stroke of luck that some big-shot tourist left this in
Deadhorse, you know - Warren Ooma about fell over when I told him we
had not only one Lear, but two.  Manly wasn't so surprised.  He told
me a private jet full of executives flying up to Deadhorse and
Prudhoe on tourist runs are not uncommon.  We really did luck out,
though.  Manly's plane is in good shape but it's a small prop.  I
hope he knows how to work on these things if any problems arise."
Skinner nodded as he replaced the hose on the dewar and locked it
down.

"We manage each day, Mulder.  That's all we can do.  We get Barrow
cleaned up and get this village as secure as we can make it... and
hope to Christ the aliens leave us be.  A vaccine would be a Godsend.
Let's hope Scully can make it happen."  The two men finished packing
their gear and walked back to the village to get Mary, who would go
with them and help them talk to the Barrow survivors.  She had asked
to accompany them, explaining that they'd react best to one of their
own.  And Jon Honea had agreed, encouraging Skinner and Mulder to let
her come along.

Now they stood outside Mary's cabin, stomping snow from their boots
before knocking and then entering.  Mary was in the small kitchen
serving her father a steaming bowl of soup.  Mulder eyed the pot
hungrily, and Mary laughed and spooned some into a bowl for him.

"It's venison again... sorry.  You must think that's all we eat!
But the meat can be tough and gamey, so we make it into soup most of
the time, and Sophie made a ton of it that first night.  This is
close to the last of it.  Caribou is up next - that we can just cook
like steak."  Skinner signed resignedly.

"Not that we'll be able to enjoy any of it..."  Jon Honea grinned
around a piece of biscuit, and nodded.

"You will have a lot of work to accomplish in Barrow.  The people
are kind, but wary of whites, especially the older Native population.
Mary's presence will help quite a bit.  They will want you to stay
there, Mary."  His eyes were calm as they locked with hers -
accepting.  Mary shook her head and moved around the table to hug the
frail shoulders of her father.

"I will not move there, Dad.  It isn't safe.  I won't leave Sophie
and Warren, the rest of our people - I can't.  And Michael - he would
hate Barrow.  No, I am staying put."  Jon Honea smiled with quiet
pride at his child's words.  She was his only remaining young one -
in his heart Jon knew this.  The light that usually made his entire
body feel buoyant and content... huge pieces of it had darkened,
beginning with the loss of Anna.  Michael's orphaned state only
brought it home to him.  He and Mary were the last of his blood; this
he knew... He pressed a kiss to his daughter's cheek, and his gaze
fell on Skinner.  He nodded once, and spoke softly.

  "Take care of her, Walter.  She is my treasure."  Skinner's
response was sincere.

"With my life, Jon - I promise."

Goodbyes were kept to a minimum, quite deliberately.  For Mulder it
was one of the hardest things he'd had to do - get on that little jet
and leave Scully.  Not only because she was the love of his life, and
his bride.  That certainly was a large chunk of it - but his fear of
leaving her in the village owed a great deal to their present
circumstances.  The unthinkable had occurred within the world, and
from now on all bets were off - anything could happen to them,
anywhere they traveled in any direction from the village.  They were
not sure what they would find in Barrow.  Reasonably certain that the
survivors left behind were sound in mind and body... well, it was the
best they could assume, until they got there and saw for themselves.
They had emailed and spoken to these people.  But you never knew...

Scully held him tightly, standing at the side of the runway with her
bare head gleaming in the pale sunlight.  They'd chosen to leave
while it was still light; knowing they'd reach Barrow at dusk.  A
light wind was blowing, nothing strong enough to prevent them from
taking off.

Mulder framed his wife's sweet face in his hands and covered her
mouth with soft, gentle kisses.  Tiny ones followed, over her eyes
and down each cheek until he could bury his face in her neck, rocking
her a little in his arms.  She pressed into him silently,
understanding that now more than ever words were not needed.

Then it was time for them to leave, and it was so hard but he forced
himself to let her go after one more tight squeeze. For another
minute they stood face to face, locking eyes and hearts, before with
one last kiss and a soft, "See you in a few days, Scully,"... Mulder
climbed into the little jet.  And before he shut the flap he smiled
at his wife and murmured, "Love you, Baby, so much..."  Her smile
echoed his, as did her soft reply.

"I love you too, Mulder.  Please be careful."


Scully shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand, watching the
small jet disappear into the endless white of the horizon.  He was
barely out of sight and she already missed him terribly.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she slogged through the snow toward
the clinic.  She would keep busy and hope that the time spent apart
would pass quickly. She had plenty of research to do - not to mention
the fact that she hadn't done much in the way of unpacking in the
last four days.  She'd start by unpacking the medical supplies they
had brought with them.


**********
end of chapter nineteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -



~ Chapter Eighteen ~

Mary covered the distance between the cabin she was sharing with her
father to the cabin next door in quick strides.  Knocking softly, she
pushed the door open, allowing a gust of cold air to swirl into the
warm interior.  Scully and Tara were sitting at the table, hands
wrapped around hot mugs of coffee, and in the corner Michael was
introducing Nanook to Matthew and Meggie.  The little girl was
squealing with glee as the big dog nuzzled her neck with her wet
snout.

Mary pulled off her coat and smiled as she sat down at the table
with the other women.  "Coffee?" Scully asked, holding up a pot.
Mary grabbed a mug and held it out.

"Please," she groaned, pulling the mug under her nose and inhaling
the steamy fragrance.  She took a sip and closed her eyes as the
warmth trickled down to her stomach.   Scully smiled wryly.

"I know," she agreed.  "I'm useless until I have that first cup."
Mary looked around the cabin.

"Where are the guys?" she asked.  Tara inclined her head toward the
two closed doors on the other side of the room.

"Still sleeping," she said, propping her cheek on one fist and
yawning.

"So is Walter." Mary winced as Meggie's shrieks rose in volume,
setting off a chain reaction of giggling between the three children.
The sweet laughter of her nephew was especially wonderful to hear and
she smiled at Scully and commented, "Michael seems better this
morning.  No bad dreams?"  Scully shook her head, smiling herself as
she thought back to the night before.

She'd placed a pillow and a sleeping bag on the faded sofa, plumping
up the cushions; Mulder had gently lifted the sleeping Michael from
the bed and carried him out of the bedroom.  Michael had stirred a
little and awoken enough to murmur groggily, "Dad?"  She'd seen
Mulder swallow hard, and his answering affirmation had brought a lump
to her throat.

"Shh, Son... I'm just moving you to the sofa.  Go back to sleep."
The child had nodded, more asleep than awake, and when Mulder had
carefully laid him on the sofa and covered him over with the thick
sleeping bag, the boy's arms had tightened about his neck and Mulder
received a nuzzling kiss on his chin and another sleepy, "Night,
Dad," in his ear... He'd squatted next to the sofa and had stroked
the child's hair rhythmically until Michael had fallen fully asleep
again - and when he'd turned to Scully his eyes were full of tears.
She had held out her arms for him to come, and be held.  And it had
taken both of them a while to fall asleep, with so much on their
minds.

Now Michael was giggling like any happy twelve-year-old boy, and
Nanook starting barking in response to the children's laughter.  All
three women looked at the closed doors expectantly, waiting for the
inevitable...  Their patience was rewarded moments later when Mulder
staggered out of one room, followed closely by Bill as he exited the
second bedroom.

Bill expertly stepped over the children who were rolling around on
the floor with the dog as he made a beeline for the coffeepot, while
Mulder was less graceful, stumbling over Nanook and nearly pitching
onto the floor.  He righted himself and made it to the table in one
piece. Sliding into the chair next to Scully he blindly reached out
for her coffee mug, draining half of it in one gulp.

"Mulder!" Scully complained, yanking the mug away from him.  "Get
your own coffee."  Mulder scooted his chair closer to hers and leaned
his head on her shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the warmth of her
neck.

"Too tired," he moaned as his fingers inched across the table toward
the mug again.  Scully sighed and upended a clean mug.  Tara filled
it with coffee and Scully pushed her half-empty mug toward Mulder,
keeping the fresh cup for herself.  Mary hid a smile and cleared her
throat.

"Well, my father and I have been awake for a couple of hours," she
began, biting off a laugh as Mulder mumbled sleepily from the nest
he'd made in Scully's neck.

"Well aren't you special."  Scully smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Go on, Mary," she encouraged as she pushed ineffectually at her
husband, trying to get him to sit up straight.  Mulder grumbled and
wrapped his arms around her middle.  With great effort, he turned his
head on her shoulder and focused on Mary, jerking his chin toward her
in a signal that he was ready to listen.

"Anyway," Mary continued.  "Some of the villagers you met last night
are very anxious to know what is happening here, and in the rest of
the world.  Dad and I tried to explain, but I think it would be
better if you were to tell them."

Scully took another sip of her coffee.  "Okay, give us a few minutes
to get dressed and then we'll all go over to meet them."  Mary nodded
and pushed away from the table.

"I'll tell Dad and wake Walter," she replied as she grabbed her coat
and headed to the door.  Scully pushed Mulder off her shoulder.

"Let's go, partner," she said, raking her fingers through his sleep-
mussed hair.  "Time to meet the neighbors."

In the watery daylight the village of Mt. Vu'luk appeared almost
ghost-like.  There were four neighborhoods, each circular in design,
with a staggered row of cabins on the outer perimeter and a series of
small sheds on the inner edge.  Each cabin had an odd-looking
structure, like a tiny log cabin, standing off the ground on stilts
about ten to fifteen feet high.  These little towers stood back from
the lot, slightly behind the cabin.  Scully pointed to one and asked
Mary about its significance.

Mary explained, "That's a cache.  They are for storing food, keeping
it up and away from predators such as bear and birds of prey.  In the
winter they hold meat and such - it stays frozen and the bears and
wolves can't get at it.  In the summer the caches stay cool enough
inside to store eggs and cheese.  There are only two freezers in the
village, so the caches come in handy."  They walked on through the
village.

In the very center of the four circles of cabins and sheds was a
long, low building made of logs with a flat tin roof.  In the
distance behind the grouping of circles another building sat seemingly
deserted.  Mary pointed to it, indicating it was the clinic.  Beyond
that structure in a fenced area was what appeared to be a combination
power and water plant, and next to that a huge greenhouse.  Mulder
and Scully were both especially glad to see a greenhouse...

Down past the clinic sat another large building, with a fenced-in
yard and an adjoining cleared area that appeared to be a field.  When
Mulder inquired about it he was told the building housed several
goats and some pasteurizing equipment, and about two dozen chickens.
Mulder was impressed; he hadn't expected anything like this, and he
said as much to Mary.  She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"It became too difficult for the village to have milk and eggs
shipped out from Barrow.  About three years ago they built the barn
and the coop, put in extensive heating and lighting and fed a water
line into it. They heat it all year long and keep it lit as well.
The goats love the light and the chickens lay much better.  Inupiaqs
rarely eat the birds; none of us care that much for chicken.  We
mostly need the eggs."  As she spoke she'd led Mulder and Scully
toward the double doors of the building and opened them so they could
see inside.

It smelled good in here, Mulder thought, as he stepped aside to let
Scully enter then walked in behind her to look around.  Like a
farm... it was welcome and comforting at the same time.  There were
six large stalls and three of them were occupied by several goats of
varying age.  A separate stall held a billy with definite attitude;
he bleated low in his throat when Mulder came closer for a better
look.  The rest of the goats chomped their grain contentedly and
never looked up as they walked by.  At the far end of the building
the coop was bracketed off and held two dozen nests.  Chickens
roosted, fat and healthy and surprisingly quiet.  In a separate coop
a rooster strutted pompously.  Their bins were filled with what
looked to be a combination of grain, dried bread and...

"Sunflower seeds!  Where on earth..." Mulder stared at the seeds,
feeling a long-buried longing overcome him for his favorite treat.
It had been so long since he'd thought about eating those seeds...
Mary grinned at him and pointed toward the barn door.

"Outside, in the smaller greenhouse.  There are lots of sunflower
plants.  The seeds are saved for the chickens.  They love them.  And
so do you, I would think," she teased him gently, seeing the ecstatic
look on Mulder's face at the mention of the plants.  "They roast them
as well, Mulder - I bet Sophie or Beverly have some, roasted this
past summer.  I'll ask them to give you a bag of them."  She led the
way back outside, grinning again when Mulder's heartfelt, "Thank
you!" echoed behind her.  Scully chuckled to herself as they stood
outside again in the frigid air.  Mulder and fresh sunflower seeds...
she'd have herself a happy boy.

Outside Mary pointed to another greenhouse, as large as the first
one they had seen, identifying it as the grain house.  It was used
solely for the production of alfalfa and oats, when they could get
the seeds. Between the grain house and scraps from everyone's dinner
table the animals had plenty to eat.

As they walked back toward the gathering hall to meet the rest of
the villagers Scully expressed her amazement at their ingenuity in
such a harsh environment.  Mary inclined her head in thanks.

"It is vital to them to be independent of anyone, Dana.  Very
important - now more than ever, I think."

Mulder had a lot to muse over as he held Scully's gloved hand in
his, swinging it a little between their bodies as they walked along
in the cold morning darkness.  Last night he had asked Mary if there
was running water to each cabin, and she had replied in the
affirmative.

"Running water, electricity from a big generator that gets its power
from Barrow - and the fact that we have both water and power tells me
that there must be people who survived and stayed behind in Barrow,
and are running the plant.  It supplies the power plants in every
village - it is massive.  There would have to be a crew keeping it
running."

Now Mary pointed to the smaller building attached to the power
plant, explaining, "That is the water treatment plant.  All the
villages use lake water for their drinking and potable supply.  Holes
are drilled into the ice and the water is pumped out.  Manly takes
care of the power plant - and I am very happy he stayed behind."
Mulder smiled at her, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Actually six of the original villagers had stayed behind, for
varying reasons - and they were all waiting expectantly at the
gathering hall that sat in the middle of the cabin circles.  Built as
a place of worship and fellowship, the hall had been used for
everything from a schoolhouse to a funeral home.  The building itself
was nothing more than four walls and a tin roof, built long and
rather narrow.  The interior was walled into four separate rooms with
each room sporting a large potbelly stove in one corner and four rows
of benches lined up neatly in the center of the room.  A smaller
bench was placed against the front wall and faced what could be
considered the audience.

Someone had started a fire in the first room; when they got there it
was toasty warm.  Scully and Bill sat on the front bench and Mulder
stood against the wall, after helping to seat Jon Honea facing the
little group of survivors.  After greeting them all softly, Jon
introduced everyone.  There was Sophie and Warren Ooma, a sister and
brother who'd decided to stay behind.  Sophie had been a friend of
Anna's...

Sarah Tuulum and her son Patrick had stayed.  Sarah had declared that
no silly threat of the 'end of the world' was going to make her leave
the village, and Patrick had vowed to stay with her, though she had
begged him to go and be safe.  Beverly Osowa had also willingly
stayed - mostly for Patrick, for whom she carried a bit of a torch.
And Manly Lomu also refused to leave, stating that if these old
stubborn souls were sitting tight then so would he - besides,
somebody had to stay behind and keep the power going.

With the exception of Patrick, Manly and Beverly, every one of them
was well over sixty and the eldest was seventy-one.

Mulder and Scully explained as best they could, about the original
colonization plans and the way it had been subtly introduced.  The
villagers nodded and murmured amongst themselves as they listened.
Warren had spoken up in a soft halting voice, addressing his Elder.

"I am not surprised, Jon Honea.  I had always suspected our days on
this earth would not be long without a battle.  I have dreamed... and
my dreams do not lie."  Beverly stood up and paced a bit as she spoke.

"Warren has been having these dreams for years.  I used to think he
was silly for believing in them.  But I have seen this for myself -
when I was in Kenai last month.  Went down to see my mother,
remember?  There were many bees.  I asked Mom, why?  Kenai does not
have these bees!  And yet, there they were.  I did not get stung.
Now I am very thankful for that."  The others nodded and grunted in
agreement.  They had lived with each other for all their lives, and a
few of them, such as Sarah and Sophie, had never once left the
village.  Sophie mentioned this fact to her old and new friends.

"Now, more than ever, we need to stay together.  We won't know when
our lives and our world might end.  It could be tomorrow.  It could
be in that little one's lifetime," she pointed to Meggie, sitting in
Tara's lap sucking on her thumb.  "It doesn't matter how long.  We
will make each day a good one; it is our way to accept that which we
are given and to not question why there might not be any more.  I
know I speak for all present when I say welcome to you, and extend my
arm, in friendship."  Sophie did just that - extended her arm to all
the newcomers beginning with Scully, who clasped her elbow to elbow
and smiled into the old woman's wrinkled face. And as Sophie extended
her arm to Mulder she softly added, "You will be a good man for her.
You have her soul reflected in your eyes."  Mulder smiled down at the
tiny Native woman, and leaning into her he pressed a kiss to her
little cheek and whispered a special 'thanks' to her.  Sophie's grin
widened; it was not every day that a handsome young man kissed her.
The rest of the villagers stood and clasped arms and made reassuring
welcoming gestures.

Once everyone had greeted each other, and resumed their seats, Jon
Honea got down to business.  "Sophie, tell me who you have been able
to contact."  The old woman rubbed at her chin and thought for a
moment.

"Let me see.  First there was Donny, in Ikiak.  He tells me there
are only twenty left in the village.  He is thinking about coming to
us, if he can convince his family to move. No one died.  Several took
their snowmobiles and left for Barrow."  Rubbing her chin again,
Sophie thought a bit more.

"I left a message for Milt in Atqasak, and spoke to his sister Nan
in Nulavik.  Nan tells me she will come to us in a month or so, after
she harvests.  She will can her crop and bring it to us.  Nan's son
Ty is in Barrow and will come out to us around the same time as his
mom, maybe earlier.  And Ty reported to Nan that there are about a
hundred people left in Barrow.  Those that did not leave or die for
any reason are manning the plants and the wells.  They keep us all
alive."  Spoken with fierce pride in her quavering voice, Mulder
could tell - for the strength of her race.  He smiled gently at the
rapidly tiring old woman, and pressed her shoulder.

"Sophie, how do you get hold of these friends?  Do you have a ham
radio?"  Sophie stared up at him with a vaguely insulted look on her
face.  Her answer was spoken with lofty assurance.

"Ham?  Of course!  But for this sort of contact, to use a ham? I
think not!  I prefer 'www.villagenetworking.com'..."

Mulder found himself suddenly very impressed.

After Sophie's report, everyone was eager to pitch in and begin.
Scully declared the setting up of the clinic was a big priority and
that she and Mary would be spending the rest of the day getting
started.  Warren Ooma thought there might be a hole on the clinic
roof and tasked Patrick Tuulum and Bill with collecting the materials
necessary to repair it.  Sarah and Beverly sat with Tara and began
making lists of all the known supplies in the village, and Skinner
got together with Mulder and Manly, to figure the best way to set up
some sort of round-the-clock protection for the village.  Manly
suggested a quick tour of the village and a crash course in operating
the power plant...

And so their first full day in the 'Last Frontier' had officially
begun.

*********


Scully and Mary left the hall and trudged through the snow toward
the clinic.  Scully stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her
parka and fought to suppress a shiver.  Mary glanced toward her and
Scully wrinkled her nose.

"I suppose this isn't nearly as cold as it's going to get, is it?"
she asked.  Mary laughed and shook her head.  Scully sighed morosely
and looked around the village.  It was only September and already the
horizon was a vast carpet of white.

"That's what I thought," she said.  Mary pointed toward the building
at the far end of the village and the two women veered toward it.
Mary twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open, ushering Scully
into the darkened building.  She flicked on a power switch and Scully
could hear the generator kick in as a row of lights flickered to life.

They were standing in a small lobby with four plastic chairs and a
coffee table littered with old paperbacks.

"Waiting area," Mary told Scully.  "There were two doctors who would
take turns traveling to all of these remote villages.  They would
come through approximately once a month, sometimes less often.  I
know Mt. Vu'luk seems very small, and it is, but it is the largest
village in the area.  There are several much smaller settlements in
the surrounding area and the people from those settlements would come
to the clinic on the days the doctors would be in town."

Scully nodded and looked around.  "How did the outlying settlements
know when the doctors would be here?" she asked as she moved down the
hallway.  Mary followed her and directed her to the first room off
the lobby.

"The doctors kept to a fairly routine schedule," she said.  "And the
people in all of the villages stayed in touch through ham radios and
the Internet."  She hit another switch and light flooded the room to
reveal a small examination table, stainless steel sink and a low
stool on wheels.

"There are two examination rooms," Mary said.  "The other one looks
pretty much the same as this one."  She stepped back into the
hallway.  "Come on, I'll show you the rest."  Scully took another
look around before turning off the light and following Mary toward
the next room.  The small lab showed two gleaming chrome workspaces
on which were spread various pieces of medical equipment.  In one
corner stood a portable x-ray machine.  In another there was an
ultrasound machine.  Scully glanced toward her companion with an
admiring look.

"I know you said the lab was well-equipped, but I never expected
anything like this," she said as she considered the rugged log
dwellings of the villagers.  Mary laughed.

"I know," she concurred.  "But as I told you, it's brand new.  The
state government funded most of it.  There's no other way for the
people of this area and other areas like it to receive medical help."
Mary led Scully into the last room along the hallway and pushed open
the door.  Scully stepped inside what was obviously an office.  A
small desk with a computer sat along one wall.  Bookshelves were
built into the wall above the desk and they were crammed with various
medical journals and textbooks.  A small, worn sofa was positioned
against another wall and a tiny refrigerator was hidden behind the
door.  Mary yanked open the refrigerator and pulled out two small
bottles of ginger ale.

"Want one?" she asked.  Scully nodded and took the bottle from the
other woman.  Mary sat down on the sofa and pulled her feet up onto
the cushions.  Scully sat down at the other end and mimicked Mary's
pose.  Mary cracked open the lid of her soda and took a long swallow.
Lowering the bottle she regarded the auburn-haired woman seated
across from her.

"You're a medical doctor and an FBI Agent?" she asked.  Scully
nodded and took a tiny sip of her drink.  "What's your field?" Mary
wondered.  Scully scowled and sighed.

"Forensic pathology," she said heavily.  Mary gawked and quickly
swallowed a mouthful of her soda.

"Forensic pathology?" she repeated slowly.  Scully nodded.

"I'm afraid so."

"Damn," Mary sighed.  "I don't know that any of the doctors will
still be coming out here... " she said worriedly.  Scully propped her
chin on her knees and looped her hands around her legs.

"Weelll," she said in a drawn out breath.  "I'm a bit of a science
geek," she said, wrinkling her nose in self-deprecation.  "So I've
kept up to date with my journal reading," she said.  "And Mulder...
well let's just say he has a propensity for finding himself in dire
need of medical attention.  Thanks to him, I've had many chances to
play doctor.  I've been his personal physician for a number of
years."  Mary smiled wickedly.

"I'll bet you have," she said suggestively.  Scully blushed
furiously and hastened to explain.

"I... I didn't mean..." she stammered helplessly.

Mary laughed and took pity on her.  "How did you wind up in the
FBI?" she asked.  Scully sighed, relieved at the change in topic.

"I was recruited out of medical school," she explained.  "I wasn't
at the Bureau very long before they assigned me to work as Mulder's
partner."  She had a distant look in her eyes as she remembered that
long ago time.  Mary spoke again, bringing Scully back to the present.

"How long have you two been together?" she asked quietly.  Scully
glanced up at the other woman.

"I was assigned to work with him eight years ago," she told her.
Mary looked shocked.

"And you just got married?" she asked incredulously.  Scully frowned
in confusion before heaving an exasperated sigh.

"We've been partners for eight years," she clarified.  Mary nodded
and then tilted her head consideringly.

"So how long have you two been together?" she asked again, this time
in a more suggestive tone so that Scully could not escape her
meaning.  Scully developed a sudden fascination with the paper label
on her soda bottle.  Picking at the label with one nail, she muttered
something under her breath.

Mary leaned forward, straining to hear better.  "Excuse me?" she
asked.  Scully hissed out a frustrated breath and began to shred the
label with her nails.

"I said, less than a month."  Her cheeks were burning with
embarrassment and she concentrated on rolling the shredded paper into
tiny balls.  She chanced a glance toward Mary who was gaping at her
incredulously.

"Less than..."  She shook her head.  "You're telling me that you've
worked side by side with that man for eight years and you only... you
waited..."  Her face was contorted with shock.  "A month? A MONTH?
Sweet Jesus! How were you able to keep from jumping him all these
years?"  Scully's mouth dropped open in shock as Mary continued to
shake her head with disbelief.  Suddenly a tiny snicker escaped
Scully and she clapped a hand over her mouth.  Mary looked up and
laughed out loud at the expression on Scully's face.  The two women
smiled with delight as a new friendship was born.

Mary leaned back and rested her cheek against the sofa cushions.
"You've only been physically intimate for a short while," she said
knowingly.  "But you've been lovers for years."  Scully's smile was
soft and she nodded.

"I don't remember a time when I didn't love him," she said simply.
Mary fought back a pang as the loss of her Calvin was brought home in
the face of Scully's newly wedded glow.  But the sharpness of the
pain was fading as time worked its healing magic on the wound to her
heart.

Mary blew out a breath and set her feet on the floor.  Standing she
took Scully's empty soda bottle and tossed it into the trashcan along
with her own.  Scully ran her hands up and down the nylon fabric of
the snow pants covering her legs.

"You know," she began.  "This clinic is better equipped than I could
have hoped, but if we're going to come up with a vaccine against this
virus, we're going to need more than what we've got here."  Scully
rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Is that what you're going to do?" Mary asked.  Her eyes were
hopeful as she stared down at Scully.  "Are you going to work on a
vaccine?"  Scully lifted tired eyes to hers and nodded slowly.

"I'm going to try," she told her.  "But I could use your help."
Mary crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the other woman
consideringly.  Despite the weariness evident in Scully's eyes, Mary
saw a hidden well of strength and determination.  She held out her
hand and Scully clasped it firmly in her own.

"I'll help you in any way I can," Mary vowed.

*******

Days passed; busy days full of hard yet rewarding work.  Repairs
were made to a few of the cabins and buildings and the village women
began setting up the greenhouse, preparing it for the winter crop.
Skinner and Bill were given a crash course on operating the power
plant and the water treatment facility; Manly declared them fast
learners.

With Sophie's assistance Mulder had managed to get on line using one
of the computers in the section of the Gathering Hall designated for
classes, and sat for over an hour trying to get hold of the guys.
Although it didn't surprise him that he was unable to tempt them into
emailing him a response, still Mulder worried; he just knew they were
out there someplace running amok in their quest to get in on all the
excitement.  He just hoped Langly hadn't blown a hole in the ceiling
of their lair... and let in all the bees.

He had a long and informative chat with Nan's son Ty, who was
beginning to get himself packed up and ready to head in from Barrow.
Mulder had discovered the ride by mobile usually took about two
hours.  He'd asked Ty to explain what had happened to the townsfolk,
and the answer again did not surprise him, as much as greatly sadden
him.

He read: 'The town mostly died, after that last big airdrop we had
just two weeks ago.  Lots of canned and frozen dinners.  I suspect
the government set out to poison us, because we want to secede from
the Union.'

Privately Mulder thought that perhaps Ty had spent a little too much
time studying the War between the States in school... but he held his
thoughts to himself and instead prodded Ty about the tainted food,
asking him how he had avoided eating it.

Ty's response was as he had feared:  'I do not touch the food they
drop.  I have no love for the white way and refuse to eat their
processed poison.  I watched my friends die.  I watched them turn
evil on each other, saw a pal of mine rape his own sister.  I tried
to stop him and he almost broke my arm. I think he would have killed
me.  My friends ate that shit the whites eat - they died just like
the whites died.  I ran and hid until it was all over and I was not
proud of my fear.  But I am alive - and so are those of us who think
the way I do.'

Mulder nodded and muttered to himself as he typed in his final
question: 'Will the surviving people stay and keep Barrow going?'

And Ty's answer:  'Yes.  They will stay.  There are no young ones my
age here.  My mom wants me to go to Mt. Vu'luk, so I will honor her
wish and come.  But I think it is the coward way.'

Mulder hastened to assure the boy that he was not, nor ever would be
considered - a coward.  Ty's response echoed his native race - and
reminded him strongly of Jon Honea.

'I thank you.'

****************
end of chapter eighteen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

The morning they left Whitehorse was overcast and wet, as if the
heavens above were overflowing with tears they would not shed.

Mary knew the feeling.

She had awoken very early, as was customary - had started coffee and
made sourdough johnnie cakes with birch syrup.  Hard to say when
they'd eat a decent breakfast again, since the eateries between
Whitehorse and Fairbanks left a lot to be desired.  While the coffee
brewed Mary packed frozen caribou steaks and dried jerky, ground-up
moose and rabbit tenders into a large ice chest built into the back
of her GMC van.  She added a lump of hand-churned butter and crammed
all the nooks full of dry ice.  Then she found a large box and filled
it with as many canned and boxed foodstuffs as she could find -
remembering to throw salt and pepper and assorted spices into the
box.  She rummaged through the rectory dinnerware and found the
plastic dishes kept on hand for the day care children, and tossed
them in as well - figuring nobody would mind eating off a Big Bird
plate or drinking from Mickey's cup.  Lastly, she grabbed up her
favorite lace-trimmed napkins and matching tablecloth and laid it on
top of the full box.  She fingered the napkins gently.  The set had
belonged to her mother, and Mary closed her eyes as she heard again
her mother's voice, admonishing her to 'Put out the good napkins,
Mary!  We aren't heathens to be wiping our mouths off with paper!'

Mary dabbed at her eyes as she stood in her mother's kitchen and
listened to her soft, no nonsense voice.  Anna would have wanted her
to use the good stuff... Anna would want her to be brave and put a
smile upon her face.  But it was hard... so very hard.  Even Calvin's
death had been easier to accept - he'd died while doing something
he'd loved - trapping.  But this... God.

She jumped when her father's gnarled hand touched the back of her
neck and lingered there, warm and reassuring against her skin.  Mary
turned herself into her father's embrace and sobbed quietly.  The
first time she'd truly shown her grief, poor child.  She had lost a
husband and a mother... Jon Honea rocked his daughter in his arms and
let her spend her sorrow.  Better to work it all out now, and then go
forward with a clean mind and a healing heart...

Except it was so very hard... given the way his Anna had died.  If a
disease had taken her he could have reconciled it in his mind. If it
had been an accident, he could even have found a way to accept.  But
this... too monstrous - too much for him.  An alien murdering, sent
to them by that most innocent and hard-working insect, the
honeybee... Jon Honea felt the first, scalding flow of tears spring
from his eyes and he wept, there on his daughter's strong shoulder.
His turn to be comforted - his turn to be rocked.  In the silent
kitchen in the still-dark of an early September morning, the Honeas
found their own way of saying good-bye.

Upstairs in the guest bedrooms the first stirrings of wakefulness
could be heard, as the smell of the food and the hot coffee wafted up
through the floor vents.  Under the faded quilt in the bedroom
farthest down the hall, Mulder stretched and yawned as he awoke
slowly - warm and content, snuggled into the curve of his wife's
little body, her hand holding him.

Holding him...  Mulder looked down with half-opened eyes, at the
sight of his early-morning tumescence being cradled by one of
Scully's hands.  Behind him her breathing was deep and her body
relaxed; Mulder wondered if she'd been aware of clasping him in her
sleep.  Well it didn't matter... it felt very good to be held this
way, waking up in the early hours of morning under layers of blankets
and soft sheets - with your wife's delicate hands holding you.

Then he felt her lips moving along his shoulderblades... and knew
she'd been awake the entire time.  Brat... he pretended to doze,
lying very still and keeping his breathing very even, curious to see
what she would do next.  She didn't keep him waiting long, for she
slid a foot along his calf muscle as she moved a leg over his hip,
and pressed her moist center against his cheeks.

Mulder fought to stay still.

Her tongue traced a feather-light path from one shoulder to the next
as her hand began stroking him with tender authority, and try as he
might Mulder couldn't keep from rocking his hips back into her.  And
just as he was about to flip over and pin her down... Scully bit his
neck, and growled into the mark she left there.

"You're awake, Mulder... quit playing possum and prepare to meet
your doom..."  Mulder huffed a snorting laugh into his pillow and
reached down to grasp her hand and press it into his hard flesh, then
he did what he'd been wanting to do since he'd first awoken:  he
flipped Scully around and pinned her underneath him in one smooth
move.  He grinned into her flushed face.

"My 'doom'?  If that's a sampling of what's in store for me... then
you can 'doom' me anytime, Baby..."  With that he slid down her body,
until he could reach her silky curls - and he buried his face against
her and breathed in the pure female scent of Scully.  She wriggled
against him and her voice came out in a scandalized squeak.

"Mulder... ewww!  That can't be very fragrant down there..."  Mulder
held her hips firm, and his muffled reply vibrated into her, making
her shiver.

"You taste like thick cream, Scully - and I haven't had breakfast
yet.  Now shut up and let me enjoy my meal..."  He pressed her back
down into the blankets and allowed his mouth and tongue to show her
how much he loved doing this to her... how he adored her response.
She sent one last question his way before she wisely obeyed his
command.

"Can I at least moan now and again if you hit a good spot?"

His sigh was long-suffering and martyred.

"If you must..."


They were the last to come down for breakfast.  Mulder ignored the
knowing smiles and winks as he led Scully by the hand into the
kitchen, and seated her next to him.  He glanced at her face as she
laid her napkin across her lap and laughed aloud at the blush he saw
there.

He felt so good...

Skinner and Bill teased the shit out of them all during breakfast,
while Tara held Meggie and fed her tiny bites of pancake and Matty
sat on Scully's knee and slurped orange juice.  During the course of
the meal Scully's face went from just pink to flaming red as the
remarks got more and more bawdy; finally when Matty piped up with an
insistent, "Aunt Dana! Why did you need your brains screwed out?
Don't they stay in your head okay without screws?"... Scully drew the
line.  She jumped to her feet with Matty in her arms, and shouted to
the entire table.

"Stop it, you morons!  Little pitchers have big ears, you know!"
Trying her best to keep the frown of censure on her face, she lost it
when she turned to glare at Mulder, and he responded by waggling his
eyebrows and tongue at her in perfect syncopated time.  Scully
collapsed into her chair and pushed her face into Matty's neck,
ignoring his screeches that she was tickling him... and laughed
herself silly.

Hearing her peals of laughter made Mulder feel even better.

It was still very early when they began packing the rest of the gear
they would need for their trip.  The sky was just turning pearly with
sunrise and the breeze was nippy but bracing.  The smell of winter
hung in the air and it wouldn't be much longer before the first
cleansing snow would fall and blanket Whitehorse... and hide the look
of death still in the streets.

Tara helped Mary pack sleeping bags into the big van; they'd flipped
down the last row of seats and piled the bags over the ice chest,
affording more insulation for the dry ice.  They would stop and
replenish as needed but for now the dry ice would last a long time.
Mary had lots of sleeping bags and they decided to take all of them.

In the back of the Ford Mulder and Bill made room for more clothes
and various supplies by folding down the far back seats and
rearranging what they already had.  Jon and Mary had packed lightly
but still they had a lot to bring.  Nobody wanted to see them leave
anything behind.

It had been decided that Skinner would travel with the Honeas, in
their van, and help Mary with driving.  Jon's eyesight was not good
enough for him to drive, and Skinner knew they would feel much safer
if he went with them.  Besides, it would give him a chance to get to
know them better... especially Mary Honea.  Skinner admitted to
himself a fascination for Mary.  She was outwardly tough one minute
and soft as could be the next.  She was a challenge.

Skinner liked challenges...

Mary had wanted to drive by the clinic and grab up as much as she
could carry of the assorted drugs and first-aid items she knew were
available, but her father talked her out of it.  Jon Honea claimed
his left elbow was twitching, a sign of bad luck.  He expressed an
urgency to be on the road and nobody questioned his superstitions.
They had all seen enough, to believe in almost anything...

They wheeled out of the driveway of the rectory with Bill driving
and Skinner following.  Mary turned one last time to look her fill
upon the church that had comforted her as a child and sustained her
as a young widow.  Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered a
soft, "I love you, Mama" into the silent air of the van.  And she
startled a bit when Skinner's big hand curved around both of hers,
clasped together in an attitude of prayer.  He never said a word...
never turned his eyes to look at her.  He just kept on driving.  But
he sent her sympathy in the hand holding hers... and for that Mary
was grateful.

They drove west, toward another border. This time when they went
through no one stopped them.  The guard in the booth was dead, as
were the inspectors who normally stood out in front of the main
building.  Deserted and eerily quiet, the border crossing lent them
yet another reminder to hurry and move out.  They crossed and found
themselves in Alaska.

The Al-Can highway was only a two-lane road, but it might as well
have been four or six lanes - in the twelve hours it took for them to
drive to Fairbanks they only saw two other vehicles.  The weather
held and it didn't rain, but it got colder as they moved farther
north.

  They stopped twice for gas and cold drinks, but each time the
places they stopped seemed deserted.  Thankfully the pumps still
worked using credit and so they were able to fill up without incident
- but Mulder had no way of knowing if he'd ever receive a bill.
Trust him to think about bills when the world was falling down around
them, he thought derisively.

An hour outside of Fairbanks, the van hit a pothole in the uneven,
frost-heaved road - and popped a tire and a hubcap.  Bill had been
driving the Ford and saw it happen, mumbling, "Shit - blowout!"  He
stopped the big truck at the side of the road and backed up to where
the van had pulled over; Mulder got out carefully, glancing all
around for bees.  He didn't see any, and motioned Scully out of the
Ford.  They walked back to the van and stopped Mary from getting out,
having her just roll down her window instead.

"Mary, stay put.  Just tell us where the spare is and we'll take
care of it."  Mary stared at Mulder as he spoke.

"I want to help!  It's my van.  Why should you do my job for me?  I
hit the pothole!"   She looked at Skinner as if to inquire why he
wasn't already out there, changing the flat.  Skinner sighed and
attempted to explain.

"Mary, we can't go out.  We're not immune to the virus.  But Mulder
is - and we are reasonably sure that Scully is as well - she was
exposed to it a few years ago.  If we get stung, we die.  If Mulder
or Scully suffer a sting, the most they'll get is a fever and some
really nasty vomiting sessions."  Scully nodded reassuringly and
pressed Mary's hand where it lay on the open window.

"Walter is right, Mary.   Roll up the window and don't worry, okay?
Mulder and I will be just fine."  Mary nodded and rolled up the
window, smiling slightly when Mulder, walking to the back of the van
swinging Scully's hand, propositioned his wife outrageously.

Hey, little girl... ever get tumbled underneath a fine, American-
made automo-bile?"  Scully's giggle and her snappy, "In your wet
dreams, Mulder..." came floating back to her ears.  Mary's grin faded
as she tried to reconcile herself to never finding another man to
joke with and tease - and love - again...  And her eyes fell on
Skinner, who stared back silently - and she shivered.

Fairbanks was at deep twilight, almost fully dark when they rolled
inside the city limits.   The Richardson Highway was empty of cars,
and there were no streetlamps lit along the Steese Expressway.
Scully held Meggie, asleep in her arms, and peered through the
darkened windows trying to see any sign of life at all.  Aside from
the inevitable bodies fallen along the roads and in the streets,
Fairbanks was another tomb.

Spotting a hotel along the road, Bill turned into the parking lot
and killed the engine, noting Skinner had followed suit.  Tara peered
up at the partially-lit marquee.  "The Regency Hotel - looks nice.
Should we chance it?"  Mulder nodded, and wiped at his eyes wearily.

"We need a good nights' sleep.  This is as good a place as any.
Fairbanks is the second-largest city in Alaska but it's still pretty
small.  I have no idea how many hotels we'd find.  We're here; let's
just do it."  He helped Scully out of the cab and took the still-
sleeping Meggie from her arms, then roused Matty.  Around the back of
the vehicle came Mary and Skinner, with Jon Honea following slowly.
Mary nodded approvingly at the choice of hotel.

"This is a nice place.  My brother James worked summers here when he
was putting himself through college at the university.  I have
thought of him twice today, wondering - hoping - he has found a way
to survive."  As she spoke Mary led them through the thick glass
double doors of the hotel and into the spacious lobby.  Skinner was
curious about the rest of the Honea clan, and asked where they lived.

"Well, James lives in Colorado - Aspen.  John Jr. lives in Juneau
with his wife and two children, and my youngest brother, David, has a
farm in Kentucky.  My sister Flora lives in Newfoundland with her
family and my oldest sister Pamela is in Italy; her husband is in the
Air Force and stationed there.  I have tried over the past week to
call them - and I get no answer, anywhere.  The not knowing is far
worse than the realization that they may all be... gone..."  her
voice trailed off and Scully moved to her side and wound a bracing
arm around her, hugging her tightly.  Bill stepped closer as well and
placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Scully spoke on a broken
thread of empathy.

"Oh, Mary... we know."

There wasn't a clerk on duty and no one to be found in the immediate
vicinity, so they helped themselves to door keys and found rooms
clustered together in the second floor.  The rooms were adequate,
nothing fancy - this was an older hotel.  Mary helped to settle her
father in the second bedroom of the only suite they could find, and
stood outside the door with Skinner while the others unlocked rooms
and called out 'Goodnight' to each other.

Mary found herself suddenly shy and unable to meet the eyes of the
man who had traveled the last twelve or more hours with them; had
insisted on driving for all of the trip and had patiently dealt with
her father when he needed help at the rest stops.  She had been
painfully aware of him sitting next to her, his big strong hands
gripping the wheel and his formidable concentration focused in on the
driving.  She had not been able to stop looking at those hands...
wondering.  How they would feel holding hers... now they might feel
on her body.  And she'd drawn herself up with an inner scolding, even
as she thought it.  Calvin was only a year in the grave.  But Calvin
was so different from this stern yet gentle man.

Her husband had been slender and only a few inches taller than she,
whereas Walter Skinner towered over her, making her feel more
feminine and delicate than she'd ever felt in her life.  Calvin was
built like the rest of the Honeas; Inupiaqs were not a tall people.
She had always looked her husband in the eye.  Now she stared up into
Walter Skinner's bespectacled face, and wondered what he'd be like...
under different circumstances.

Walter Skinner was having the same thoughts, about her.

His first impression of Mary Honea was of a strong woman asked to
face terrible circumstances and do so with courage and fortitude.  In
many ways she reminded him of Scully - both determined, both fiercely
loyal and both driven to survive against any obstacles.  Her outer
toughness was at odds with the tenderness he'd seen her display
toward her father and toward the children.  She'd let Meggie tug on
her hair and suck on the ends of it - she'd wrestled Matty to the
floor and held a no-holds-barred tickling match with the giggling
toddler.  She was pretty and sweet and knew how to handle a gun and
could cook up a mean caribou stew...

Skinner wanted to get to know her better.  But tonight she needed to
sleep - they all did.  So he took her hand and raised it to his face,
and kissed her palm, closing her fingers around the caress he'd
placed there.  And he smiled into her wide, surprised eyes, as he
murmured, "Get some sleep.  I'm right next door.  If you or your
father need me, just call, okay?  I'll come right over."  Mary looked
up into his face and the lines of weariness under her eyes only made
her look lovelier, more vulnerable.  Her next words confirmed this.

"Walter, the bees... did you see any?  Are we safe?"  The sadness he
saw in her dark eyes tore at Skinner and he stepped forward, obeying
the need inside him - and his arms went about her gently; he bent his
head to her and pressed an unshaven cheek to her soft skin - and the
comfort of his reply became an unexpected promise between them as he
kissed the side of her jaw and heard her tiny sigh of contentment.

"Mary, you're safe.  We'll take care of you... always."

Bill was first to awaken the next morning and quietly set about
calling the other rooms, rousing everyone.  It was still dark outside
but a glance at her watch told Scully it was almost six o'clock.
She and Mulder grabbed a quick shower together, resisting the strong
pull of shower play, and made it down to the lobby before anyone else.

Although Skinner had expressed curiosity at finding out what or who
could be staying in some of the other rooms - because quite a few of
the room keys were missing - Tara and Mary shuddered and stated they
would rather not know.  Jon Honea echoed his daughter's concern,
rubbing at his elbow in a significant manner.  The men took the hint,
and they loaded themselves into their vehicles and headed out.

They were driving through town, looking for the route that would
take them to the Dalton Highway, when Bill spotted a Ford dealership
on the Steese Expressway.  Signaling, he turned in, assuring that the
van followed them.  He turned to Mulder, sitting there beside him.

"I wonder if we should grab another tank like this one.  Maybe have
three vehicles going north... just in case."

Mulder nodded; it made sense to him.  Maybe the next smaller size,
the Expedition.  He and Scully got out of the Excursion and tried the
door of the dealership; not surprisingly the door was unlocked.  They
found their way to the service department and the key storage,
grabbed all the keys labeled 'Expedition' and went back out to try
their luck on the lot.

Ten minutes later they found a dark blue Expedition, loaded, with a
full tank of gas, and jumped in.  Pulling it around to the front lot
they maneuvered it close to the Excursion and unloaded some of the
excess load, stacking it into the back and freeing up much-needed
room for the children to stretch out.  Scully grabbed Mulder's cell
phone and brought it with her into the new car, leaving Bill's in the
other vehicle.  Skinner's rig would get better gas mileage now - not
that it mattered very much.  They would not run out of fuel for a
very long time.

Nobody thought about the fact that they were, in effect - looting.
Or if they thought about it at all... they kept that thought to
themselves.

The convoy headed out of Fairbanks at eight o'clock in the morning
after loading up on more ice, bottled water and cold drinks.  They
ran into a Fred Meyers, again unlocked; in their haste to grab extra
boxes of diapers and powdered milk for Meggie they barely noticed the
bodies lying everywhere.

Scully wondered if she'd finally become numb to it all...part of her
hoped so even as her heart bemoaned the cold attitude.

The Dalton Highway was a two-lane highway full of washboard ridges,
potholes and bad frost-heaves.  Mulder knew the permafrost, under the
ground about ten to twenty feet down, was responsible for the horrid
state of the roads.  He hoped the relative teeth-jarring of the ride
would even out eventually.

Next to him Scully pored over maps and tried to gauge the hours it
would take to reach Deadhorse.  It was hard to predict owing to the
rough road and the increasing wet snow they encountered as they drove
north toward the Alaskan Range.  The air outside their vehicle was
definitely colder and she had to adjust the heat several times.  As
the snow got thicker and crustier they left the windshield wipers on
all the time.

Twice they lost sight of the big Ford, driven by Bill; each time
Scully called him to assure all was well, and was assured that the
damn wipers were getting clogged and they'd had to stop and clean
them off - spoken in a true Bill Scully grouch of a voice.  Mulder
chuckled as he maneuvered his way around an especially nasty and deep
pothole, remarking to Scully, "I always know when your brother is
healthy and relatively sane... 'The Voice' comes out - accompanied by
much cursing."

Scully laughed and re-dialed Bill's phone, grinning hugely when his
irritated, "WHAT!" could even be heard by Mulder.  She spoke sweetly
into the phone.

"Bill, we need to tell you - watch out for that pothole in front of -
" A loud, angry, "SONOFABITCH!  FUCK!", and Tara's admonishment of,
"Bill, shut up!  The children..."  Mulder mumbled under his breath.

"Guess you were a little late on that one, Shorty..."  And next to
him Scully wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, and retorted the
second verse of the old Fifties' song.

"Ooo-whee, I'll betcha that smarts..."

They made better time than they'd figured and arrived in Deadhorse
just four hours after leaving Fairbanks.  The hundred or so miles were
slow going at times owing to the rapidly-changing climate; by the
time they hit Deadhorse the snow was on the ground to stay.

They put the Fords into permanent four-wheel drive outside of
Stephens Village, needing the extra traction to make it up the
increasingly mountainous terrain.  Mary's van was all-wheel drive and
they managed very well.  Skinner decided he liked her van a lot
better than his big Ford, finding the handling much easier especially
in the snow.

Up and up they'd climbed, through the outer rim of the Range, where
the road could still cut a swathe through the lower Endicott
Mountains.  And it was dark when they reached Deadhorse. But that was
to be expected.  This far north, Alaska would soon be plunged into
almost eternal night - for at least five months.

The cold night would be longer still, in Barrow and in Mt. Vu'luk.

As was expected, Deadhorse was fairly deserted, but not because of
dead bodies.  Most of the people had been airlifted out - the
evidence was everywhere, tracking the snow with the marks of the
departing planes.  They found a few bodies scattered here and there,
but they didn't find anyone alive although they looked.  They also
didn't find any discarded incubators, which was a blessing in itself.

Mulder swirled one booted foot in the tracks left by a departed
plane, thinking about the hell that awaited those people who'd left
their homes thinking they would be safer if they went south.  How
could they know this would be their doom - to fly into Fairbanks or
Anchorage, where the last final vestiges of autumn clung to the
atmosphere and the colder temperatures hadn't chased away the bees?

He wished they'd gotten up here sooner.

Bill called his name and Mulder turned, watching his brother-in-law
run up to him.  He and Bill had come a long way in a very short time -
and Mulder felt real affection for his new brother.  Bill came to a
huffing stop and his breath crystallized in the night air as he
pointed down the tiny runway.

"I found a couple of Lear jets at the end of the tarmac.  One seats
eight and the other six.  They appear to be in excellent shape;
probably owned by a private individual who maybe came up for the
tourist season."  They both turned and peered through the darkness
at the small jets, and Mulder wondered aloud at the fuel situation.

"Think they're full?  I suppose if they weren't we could find the
tanks.  They have to be around here someplace."  Bill nodded, and
pointed again to the left of the jets.

"Tanks are over there.  I found them first, actually; I ran into
them.  Now all we have to decide is which one to take."  Skinner,
walking up to them, overheard the last remark, and he replied
confidently.

"We take them both.  We'll need them both - I can fly one and you
can fly the other," he addressed Bill.  Mulder turned to Skinner in
surprise.

"I didn't know you had a license."  Skinner nodded,shrugging
nonchalantly.

"I wasn't on the ground all the time in 'Nam.  This little jet will
be a piece of cake.  So what do you say?  Both jets?"  Bill nodded,
and clapped Skinner on the shoulder, then tossing a retort over his
shoulder as he walked toward the Ford and his family.

"Dibs on the eight-seater, Walt buddy..."  Skinner immediately took
exception to being relegated to the smaller plane, and ran to catch
up with Bill, who'd taken off sprinting toward the Ford.  His
protesting squawk filtered back on the night air, and Mulder chuckled
and shook his head as he followed them.

"Why should you get the bigger plane, Scully?  I was in 'Nam, I flew
with the big boys..."

They ended up sleeping for a few hours in their vehicles, knowing
they had to leave them behind and regretting very much the knowledge
that whatever Mt. Vu'luk had in store for them it would not include a
great set of wheels.  Mulder and Scully curled into the back seat of
the Expedition, bundling up into their sleeping bags and several
layers of flannel and wool.  Tara and Bill each cuddled a child,
keeping themselves warm, and Mary took two sleeping bags and gave her
father two as well, Skinner only needing one.

They slept out the dark and left at sunrise as soon as they'd fueled
both jets.  It would be several hours before daylight would hit and
they wanted to be in the air looking for Mt. Vu'Luk and then landing
before it got dark again.  Mary and Jon Honea flew with Skinner in
the smaller Lear, Skinner grudgingly surrendering the larger plane to
Bill.  They took a lot of the heavier equipment and boxes.  Mulder and
Scully flew with Bill and family, with the rest of the gear.

By plane the vastness of the Alaskan Range was much more impressive
than what they'd seen of it from the Dalton Highway.  From the window
seat Mulder stared out at pristine white, miles of it as far as he
could see.  Dotted here and there by thin twisted black spruce,
it was at once beautiful and frightening.  A person could die out
there in mere hours.  And yet it was that very danger that would
protect them, for the Range would stymie the bees' flight north.
Comfort could at lease be taken from that, he decided.

Skinner dipped the wing and made a curious circle of one of the
higher peaks of the Range.  Kobuk Peak rose up higher than the
surrounding yet smaller mountains.  Desolate and serene, the Range
was unlike anything they'd seen.

Behind him in the larger jet, keeping a safe distance, Bill kept a
close eye on their coordinates and remarked into his headset, "We're
about sixty miles from where Mt. Vu'Luk should be - but it's hard to
believe there's any sort of civilization out here."  Skinner nodded,
though Bill couldn't see it, and glanced at the controls, keeping a
steady ten thousand feet.  He responded to Bill.

"Yeah.  But there are villages all over.  Small, but hardy and
surviving because they haven't forgotten the old ways.  We should be
able to make Mt. Vu'Luk work for us; according to Mary and Jon there
are quite a few solidly built cabins in the village and they have a
generator and plenty of fuel."

Behind him Mary added, "The 2000 census says the Native population
there was a hundred and the white count was seven."  Skinner
smiled at her and spoke softly, but loud enough for the occupants of
the other jet to hear.

"Well, we can add some to the Caucasian population, I guess. And
Jon tells me there are a few of his distant cousins still living in
the village.  I think we'll be welcomed."

In the larger jet Mulder stretched his stiff muscles and looked over
at Tara who slept in her seat with Matty nestled trustingly in her
arms.  His own lap was filled with Meggie - Mulder stroked the soft
baby hair and marveled aloud that such a lout as Bill Scully should
be able to produce such a pretty child...

An irritated, "I heard that, Mulder," answered his vague remark - as
Mulder had hoped. He snickered into Meggie's hair; sometimes Bill was
so easy...

Mt. Vu'luk looked tiny and cold from the air.  Skinner circled twice
before touching down, rolling to an easy stop on a runway still
fairly clear of snow.  Someone had removed the snow recently.  Behind
him the larger jet landed, just as gently.  Bill's head popped out,
testing the air; with a shudder he stuck his head back in the jet and
remarked, "It's damn cold out there.  Better put on the heavy gear."

Jon was helped down from the smaller jet, and stood hatless in the
cold wind of the tarmac.  He grinned at the sight of Mulder, Scully
and the rest of her family bundled up as if they had landed on
Antarctica.

"You will find it tough going, my friends, if you don't begin to
acclimate to the cold right away.  It is not the right weather for so
many layers.  The children, perhaps." He nodded in approval as first
Mulder, then Scully and Bill took off their hats and let the wind
bite their ears.  After a few minutes Mulder found it wasn't really
as cold as he'd first imagined.

They left their belongings on the tarmac and walked toward the
village, only about a half-mile away.  Mulder carried Meggie on his
shoulders and Bill piggy-backed Matty.  Scully walked quickly, as did
Mary, leaving Skinner behind to walk with the slower Elder and help
him along.

They reached the first set of cabins, searching for any signs of
life - worried when knocking on cabin doors revealed empty homes.
They rounded the corner of another set of cabins, fingers crossed -

And spotted a young boy running through the three-foot snow with a
huge husky dog yapping at his heels.  Mary stopped dead in her
tracks, and stared hard - then she broke into a run and headed
straight for the child, crying out to him, "MICHAEL!  Oh God,
Michael..."  The boy stopped and stared at her as well, face breaking
into a wide smile when he recognized her.  He shouted joyfully to her.

"Aunt Mary!  Aunt Mary!"  He jumped into her arms as she ran up to
him and she swung him around in a dizzying embrace even though it was
apparent he was a few inches taller than she.  Mary finally let his
feet touch the ground and she pushed back the hood that covered his
face as Scully huffed to a stop behind them, her eyes tearing up at
the sight of such a happy reunion.  Mary cupped her nephew's face
lovingly and pressed several kisses on his smooth cheeks before she
started questioning him.

"Michael, where's your dad?  And where's Lily?  You're not here all
by yourself, are you?"  Michael nodded, his eyes clouding over at the
mention of his family.

"Dad... he's not here, Aunt Mary.  I only got here a few days ago
myself.  I took Nanook and stuffed her into the Hummingbird and I
flew here from Juneau."  Mary stared at the boy in shock.

"You flew the 'copter?  By yourself?  Michael... I can't believe my
brother could be so irresponsible!  What was he thinking?"  Mary was
fuming, but Michael tugged on her parka sleeve to get her attention.

"It wasn't Dad's fault, Aunt Mary!  He couldn't stop me..."  The boy
swallowed hard and the tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over
his rounded cheeks.  "Dad... he's dead, Aunt Mary.  So is Lily....
and Mom.  There were these bees... and I was so scared, Aunt Mary..."

Mary sank to the ground with her nephew in her arms, hugging him
tightly and rocking him, while Scully sat in the freezing snow with
her arms looped around a huge Husky dog that lapped at the cold
tears on her face with a large pink tongue...

This was the sight that greeted the rest of the refugees as they
rounded the second corner of cabins.


"He's asleep now - finally."  Mary came into the tiny kitchen wiping
her hands on a small towel.  Michael had soaked the towel with his
tears before he succumbed to weariness and slept.  Scully sat in
front of the pot-bellied stove absently scratching Nanook's lean
flanks, the dog rolling her eyes in ecstatic joy at the nimble
fingers stroking her fur.  Her tail thumped the floor with a force
that actually shook the simple rug-covered planks.  Mulder sat in an
old overstuffed chair next to Scully, one hand stroking her hair in
much the same manner as Scully's attention to her canine buddy.
Judging by the soft humming emanating from her throat... Scully was
loving the attention as well.

They'd briefly met most of the rest of the remaining villagers, the
ones who refused to leave when the time came to evacuate.  One of the
younger villagers had explained that only a handful of people had
stayed behind, mostly middle-aged to elderly.  These people had
welcomed Mary and Jon with open arms, and were friendly toward the
strangers in their midst.  Until they got to know each other better
it was as much as they could hope to expect.  Promising to visit each
of them first thing in the morning, the weary newcomers found their
way to one of the larger cabins, and began preparing something to eat.

Now Tara stirred a huge pot of hurriedly put-together venison soup
on the old wood stove in the kitchen, thoughtfully provided by one of
the elderly villagers. Her smile was sad as her heart went out to yet
another devastating loss for the Honeas.  Jon had already retired to
the cabin next door, Skinner offering to sit with him and keep him
company until he fell asleep.  Jon had protested, but Mary knew he
was glad to have the company, not willing to be alone with his
thoughts.

Tara ladled soup into some pottery bowls she'd found in the
cupboard, and set out the bowls for everyone to grab.  Scully had
found bread in the icebox outside on the front porch of the cabin,
and it had only needed a little heating in the oven to thaw it out.
They'd brought in the butter from the ice chest they'd left outside
and Mary liberally buttered the thick-cut, warmed bread.  They sat
around the table and began to eat, only pausing for a moment when the
cabin door flew open and Skinner entered, stomping the snow from his
boots.  He smiled reassuringly at Mary.

"Your father's asleep... I'm going to just grab a bowl of soup and
some bread and run back over in case he awakens."  Mary nodded, and
picked up her bowl and wrapped her bread in a paper towel.

"I'll go over with you, Walter - he'll want to see my face if he
wakes up."  Skinner held her soup for her while she shrugged into her
parka, and as Mary turned to Scully she was greeted with a gentle
smile.

"Don't worry about Michael.  Mulder and I will take care of him
tonight.  There's no sense in moving him and there is another bedroom
in here.  We'll all have breakfast together tomorrow - and we'll
start making plans."  Mary nodded gratefully and gave Scully an
impulsive hug, before taking her food from Skinner and going out into
the cold.  Skinner nodded to everyone and walked out right behind
her.  And Mulder smiled, and his soft comment made everyone in the
warm little cabin nod their heads in agreement.

"I'll bet you anything worth betting that those two are married by
spring..."

********************
end of chapter seventeen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Sixteen ~

Scully allowed herself to be pulled upstairs by the two women and
she obediently sank down onto the bed in Mary's room.  Mary held up
one hand and left, reappearing moments later with a garment bag
folded over her arm.  She laid the bag reverently across the mattress
and lowered the zipper to reveal a wedding dress.  She shook the
folds of the dress out and held it up for Scully and Tara to see.
Most likely a pure white when it was new, the fabric had mellowed to
a creamy, softer hue.

"It was my mother's," Mary explained.  She held the dress out.  "I
don't think she'd mind."  Scully forced a smile, shrinking away from
the idea of wearing the dress of a woman she had never met - a woman,
who even now, was lying dead in a greenhouse several yards away, her
body ravaged by the alien virus.

"It's beautiful," she said honestly.  "But since the groom will be
wearing his 'best jeans' I think something a little less formal would
be appropriate."  Mary nodded and turned toward the closet.

"Most of my wardrobe is very casual.  Jeans and sweaters or my
nurse's uniforms," she said as she plunged her hands into the back of
the closet.  "But I think," she grunted as she tugged at a hanger, "I
have something that you may like."  She yanked hard and stumbled back
as the stubborn hanger came loose.  She turned to face the other
women and eyed Scully critically.

"I weigh a little more than you," she said.  "But this dress is not
fitted and I think it will look wonderful on you."  She pulled the
plastic bag back to display the dress in question.  "Calvin and I
eloped and my mother was very disappointed that she wasn't able to
throw a big wedding for us.  We agreed to have a 'gathering' instead.
It's similar to a family reunion, but includes everyone in the doyon.
She and I made this dress together for me to wear at the gathering."
Mary held the dress up in front of her and lovingly smoothed her
hands over it.  Her gaze was distant and a tiny, sad smile played
about her lips for a moment.  Shaking free of her reverie, she looked
up and laid the dress across Scully's lap.

"This is called a kuspuk," she told them.  "It's a traditional
Inupiaq costume.  Many of them have hoods and are trimmed with fur.
This dress holds the happiest of memories for me," she said.  "I
would be honored if you would consider wearing it for your wedding."
Scully stroked her fingers over the folds of the dress and looked up.

"I'd love to," she said.  Tara gave a tiny whoop and stood, glancing
at her watch.

"The kids are going to need to take a nap soon," she said.
"Otherwise, they're likely to fall asleep in the middle of the
ceremony."  Mary nodded and lifted the dress from Scully's lap,
carefully laying it over her arm.

"Why don't we all take an hour or so to rest," she suggested.  She
held a hand out to Scully and helped her to her feet.  "I'll show you
to your rooms," she told the other women.  "I'd like my father to lie
down for a little while as well," she said as she led them into the
hallway.  "The rectory has six bedrooms," she told them.  "So we have
plenty of room."  She nodded her head toward one door.  "That is my
parents' room," she said softly, sadly.  Tara placed a hand on her
shoulder and made a comforting sound and Mary smiled quietly in
response.

"Mr. Skinner can sleep in this room," she said indicating the room
across the hall from her own. "And the children can stay in here,"
she told Tara as she opened the door to one room, revealing twin
beds.  "You and your husband can take this room," she said pointing
toward the door next to the children's room.  "Bathroom," she
murmured, tapping a door as she continued down the hall.  She pushed
open a door at the far end of the hall. "Dana, you and Mulder will
take this room."

Scully walked into the room and looked around.  The room was spartan
but clean.  A rough-hewn bed stood against one wall covered in a
faded quilt.  A chest of drawers of the same unfinished wood stood
across the room from the bed.  A rocker sat in one corner and a
cheval mirror stood in another.  Mary stepped around her and hung the
dress on the back of the closet door.

"Lie down for a little while," she advised gently as she pulled the
door closed behind her.  Scully toed off her sneakers and curled up
on top of the faded quilt.  She determinedly pushed all negative
thoughts out of her head as she relaxed into the soft pillows,
drifting.

*******

She stirred drowsily as she felt Mulder slip into bed with her.
"Mary told me you were taking a nap," he whispered, nuzzling her
neck.  "I thought I'd come up and try to score a little premarital
nookie," he growled playfully.  Scully swatted at him half-heartedly
as she pressed her body back into his.

"In your dreams," she told him as she snuggled deeper into the
pillows.  He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Elder Honea gave us wedding rings," he spoke huskily.  She turned
her head curiously.  "I think you'll like them," he added.

"You aren't going to show them to me?" she asked.  He shook his head
and settled down behind her, curling his arm over her waist.

"You'll see them soon enough," he told her as he yawned sleepily.
Scully sighed and went back to pushing any unwanted thoughts out of
her head.  All too soon she was going to have to deal with them, but
for now, she just wanted to rest.

*******

Two hours later, Scully stood before the cheval mirror, studying her
reflection critically in the dimly lit room.  The kuspuk was
beautiful, she admitted grudgingly.  Made of a raw silk in the palest
shade of pink, it had a rounded neckline, above which hung her gold
cross.  The dress hung straight from the shoulders and had full
sleeves that were fitted and cuffed at the wrists.  Starting at her
knees and hanging down almost to her ankles, the dress ended in a
flounced ruffle.  Tiny luminous white seed pearls and silvery, black
hematite beads had been painstakingly stitched around the collar,
cuffs and hem of the dress in an elaborate design.  It was a gorgeous
creation, she knew, and totally not her style.  She thought she might
prefer to wear her jeans and a sweater, as Mulder was, but she was
the bride and she knew the others expected her to play the part.
Mulder especially seemed eager to see her dressed in some romantic
creation.

Scully had long ago given up her girlhood fantasies of what her
wedding day would be like.  Gone were any thoughts of lace gowns and
gauzy veils.  Buried were ideas of a bouquet of roses and orange
blossoms and a regal march down a long aisle to the swelling strains
of Bach or Mendelssohn.  She had contented herself with the knowledge
that she would share her life with Mulder in one form or another and
had ruthlessly denied herself the dream of a wedding.  But now she
stood alone in an unfamiliar room in a dress that made her feel and
look like a stranger and she wondered how it had come to this.  After
all the pain and suffering; after all of the losses, was it necessary
that she sacrifice that deeply buried dream as well?  Her fingers
nervously worried the beads of her mother's rosary.

"We didn't even get to choose our own wedding rings," she whispered
resentfully to her reflection.  She looked up as someone tapped on
the door.

"Dana?" Tara's voice floated through the door.  "May we come in?"
she asked.

"Door's open," Scully replied as she composed her face into its
normally placid lines.  She smiled as Tara, Meggie and Mary slipped
into the room.

"The dress is perfect," Tara exclaimed as she circled Scully.  She
plopped Meggie down onto the floor and urged Scully to sit down on
the edge of the mattress.  Scully sat in stoic silence as Tara and
Mary fussed over her hair and makeup.  She slipped her feet into the
beaded moccasins that Mary provided and stood once more, twirling so
that the others could get a look at the final results.

"Pwetty," Meggie declared and the two women concurred.

"You look beautiful, Dana," Tara assured her.  Mary nodded and
smiled even as she took note of the melancholy look in Scully's eyes.
This woman has known more than her share of heartache, Mary thought
as she watched Scully self-consciously smooth the fabric of the dress
over her breasts.

Tara held out her hand and drew Scully down onto the mattress beside
her.  "Mom's rosary is something old," she said as she touched the
worn beads gently.  "The rings are something new," she continued.
"Mary's dress is borrowed," she said as she smiled at the nurse
hovering near the chest of drawers.  Tara reached up and removed a
pair of earrings from her ears.  She held them out and the blue
stones winked and glistened even in the dim light.  "Bill gave them
to me when Matty was born," she said.  "They're blue topaz -
December's birthstone.  I never take them off, but if you would like
to wear them, they can be your something blue."

Scully smiled genuinely for the first time that day as she gathered
her sister-in-law into her arms.  The two women broke apart as Meggie
burrowed her way into their embrace.  Scully held her niece on her
lap and she tilted her head first one way and then the other as Tara
fastened the jewelry to her ears.

Tara smoothed a stray wisp of hair from Scully's cheek.  "Perfect,"
she pronounced.  Another rap on the door drew everyone's attention.

"Are you ready?" Bill called impatiently.  Tara scooped Meggie up
and followed Mary to the door.  She blew Scully a kiss.  "We'll see
you downstairs," she said.  Tara smiled at her husband as she breezed
past him and into the hallway.

Bill cleared his throat as he walked over to his sister and stood
behind her, admiring her reflection in the mirror.  "You look
lovely," he told her. Scully's smile wobbled as she met his eyes in
the glass.  "I wish Mom was here," she choked.  Bill settled his big
hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.

"I think she is," he said eyeing their mother's rosary as it dangled
from her hand.  "You ready, Squirt?" he asked, reverting to the hated
childhood nickname he had christened her with when she was six.
Scully grimaced and slipped her hand into his.

"Be nice, Bill," she told him haughtily.  "I'm the bride."

*******


Mulder stood at the altar of a church made of rough cedar logs, and
waited for his bride to walk down the aisle, to him - to an uncertain
future.  Next to him Skinner stood solid as one of the cedar beams
holding up the gabled ceiling, and on the other side Tara stood with
Meggie on her hip and Matty holding her hand.  Tears were swimming in
her eyes and her smile was wide in her pretty face.  Mary sat quietly
in the first pew, all the congregation they would have this day.
There was no music - they didn't need it.  There were no flowers -
even if they could have found some that were not bee-infested it
would have been too dangerous to bring them into their sanctuary.
But flowers were not needed, for the church was ablaze with candles.
They hung from the ceiling in huge candelabras and wall sconces,
placed on every surface.  With the lights turned off, the glow from
nearly two hundred candles made the warm cedar walls and pews
resemble a Heavenly haven.

"Ready?" Bill asked as he looked down at his sister.  She looked up
at him and nodded.

"Let's go," she said.  Bill threaded her hand through the crook of
his arm and they stepped into view.  The church wasn't large and the
walk down the aisle was a short one.  The sanctuary was silent.  The
only sound Scully could hear was the rustling of the silk of the
dress she had borrowed as she and her brother walked slowly down the
aisle.  She smoothed her free hand over her churning stomach.  Her
nerves were frayed with the events of the last few days - the last
few months to be more accurate - and the silence of the church was a
deafening roar in her ears.  As they stepped closer to the altar, she
was peripherally aware of the others.  Matty was shifting from one
foot to the other, already bored with the ceremony, and Meggie was
sucking her fingers, solemnly watching her father and aunt advance
toward her.  Scully's eyes skimmed over Mary, who was standing in the
first pew, Tara whose eyes shone with tears, Skinner's broadly
smiling face and the gentler smile of Jon Honea.  Her eyes locked
with Mulder's and everything else fell away under his tender gaze.
Bathed in the golden glow of hundreds of flickering candles, he was
her heart's desire and she knew that nothing else mattered, nothing
but this...

**********************


Down the center aisle Dana Scully walked on the arm of her brother.
Slowly - stately - they moved toward the altar.  Mulder's heart
pounded in his chest at the sight of her.  Lovely beyond any measure,
her hair piled loosely on her head and the dress swishing gently
around her legs... he'd never seen anything half as lovely.  His to
cherish - his to love.  His to protect and to work with, side by side
- his to fight for.

Scully.  In a dress she'd had to borrow from another woman, and a
stranger at that - how he wished it could have been different.  All
women dreamed and planned their wedding day - he figured Scully had
done her share of dreaming.  A lovely white gown and a filmy veil,
and carrying flowers; walking down the aisle of her childhood church
on the arm of her father, the man she'd lovingly called Ahab.
Suddenly he could see it all through her eyes, and the image he
conjured up was sweet and beautiful and would never happen...

Then as she and Bill neared the front of the altar and he could see
into her eyes, it didn't matter anymore.  The lack of flowers and the
silence of the church, the bitter knowledge of what lay outside the
hallowed walls of this rough-hewn building - none of it mattered, for
Scully's face was radiant and her eyes were brimming with love for
him and her chin was held high as she came toward him, to be claimed
by him in God's house.  Nothing else mattered, nothing but this...

Mulder's heart was bursting with pride.

The ceremony itself was short but emotional.  Jon Honea had decided
to forsake traditional vows, maintaining that his old eyes could not
read the book very well.  He'd asked them to make their own vows,
very wisely knowing that these people needed to tell each other the
true measure of their hearts - and if they got caught up in the
standard 'I Take Thee' phrases, then that's all there would be -
phrases.  Jon Honea had a feeling this man and this woman had much
more to say to each other.

And they did.

Side by side they stood, surrounded by candles and family and
dearest friends, new and old.  Maggie Scully's rosary hung from
Scully's left wrist, wound around three times with the crucifix
dangling down her arm.  It gave her comfort, as if her mother was
right at her left elbow, watching and approving.  She and Mulder held
hands and turned to face each other when Jon Honea motioned to them,
and they stared into each other's eyes with a force almost tangible.
In the candlelight Dana Scully glowed as if surrounded by the aurora
borealis itself, and Mulder was mute with awe and humbled by the
power of this simple bonding ceremony.  He had never given a lot of
thought to weddings - had never cared one way or another.

He sure cared now...

Asked to speak his vows first, Mulder slipped one of his hands out
of Scully's grasp, and tenderly lifted her face to his.  The words he
spoke were from one of his favorite poems; more and more lately he'd
found snippets of poetry running through his head whenever he thought
of Dana Scully.  Today was no different.  Locking his gaze with hers,
Mulder took a deep breath - and smiled - and his low voice was full
of wonder and adoration as he spoke from his heart.

'I love you - not only for what you are, but for what I am
When I am with you.

'I love you - not only for what you have made of yourself, but for
what
You are making of me.

'I love you for the part of me that you bring out; I love you
For putting your hand into my heaped-up heart and passing over
All the foolish, weak things that you can't help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light all the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked quite far enough to find.

'I love you because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my
life
Not a tavern but a temple; out of the works of my every day -
Not a reproach but a song.

'I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done
To make me good, and more than any fate could have done
To make me happy...'

It was hard to see through the film of tears that rose up in his
eyes as he spoke, but he blinked and they slipped down his cheeks as
his voice whispered to a stop and Scully leaned forward, up on her
tiptoes - and pressed her damp cheeks to his, and kissed him.  One on
his mouth and one on each eye, then wiping the lipstick from his lips
with her thumbs, she stood back, and waited for him to continue -
somehow understanding he wasn't quite through.  Mulder smiled... she
knew him so well.  He took her hands and raised them to his lips,
speaking against her fingers.

"I will never leave you.  I will never hurt you.  I will never lose
sight of my incredible fortune - that you could somehow love me
enough to stay - enough to fight - enough to take my hand and face an
unknown future with courage and fortitude.  I will cherish our time
together and I will make you so happy - I will do this for you,
because I love you - I honor you - and I adore you."

Scully's throat was tight with unshed tears as Mulder's whispered
vows vibrated against her fingertips.  She swallowed hard around the
lump in her throat.  She had tried to think of her vows when she had
been resting earlier, but the words wouldn't come.  Now she took one
step closer to him, her body brushing his, closer perhaps than was
decent in a church, but she needed the physical contact.  She lowered
a small hand and placed it in the center of his chest.  She could
feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm and she relaxed as
she began to speak.

"You know that it's difficult for me to express my emotions," she
began.  Her lips quirked up in a tiny, self-mocking grin as she
continued.  "A few minutes ago, I was feeling sorry for myself.  I
was thinking about all of the things that were wrong with this day.
A rushed wedding in borrowed clothes. No flowers, no music - in a
strange town in a world gone mad.  I told myself that we had
sacrificed enough.  That we had lost enough.  I wanted to know why it
was necessary that we had to sacrifice our wedding day as well."

She could see a hint of sadness lurking in Mulder's eyes and she
curled her fingers into his shirt.  "And then I saw you standing
here, waiting for me.  You were looking at me with such love and you
seemed so... content.  You were just happy.  Happy because I had
agreed to become your wife.  Just that one little thing and I could
see a calm and peacefulness settle over you that I have never seen
before."  She took his other hand and wound his arm around her waist.
"Everything became crystal clear to me.  At that moment... at this
moment, I want nothing more from this life than to see that
expression of your face every day and to know that I am the reason
for it."  She smiled and one tear slipped down her cheek.

"You once told me that the truth was in me.  You also said that the
truth would save me - that it would save us both."  Her tears were
falling faster now and Scully raised her hand to knuckle them away.
"The truth is that I love you Mulder.  I've loved you for years and
only now am I smart enough to proclaim it to the world."  She lowered
her voice to a whisper and kept her eyes locked on his.

"I, Dana Katherine Scully, take you, Fox William Mulder, to be my
husband.  I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in
sickness and in health.  I will love you and keep you all the days of
my life."  She threw a glance toward the others gathered in a tight
circle around them.

"I know we're supposed to wait, but..." She stretched up on her toes
and brushed her lips across Mulder's in a quick kiss, grinning up at
him happily.  She slipped her hands back into his warm fingers and
locked her gaze with his...

Vaguely Mulder registered the world around him as he stood at the
altar and held his woman's hands - the soft crying of Tara and the
quiet murmuring of Bill as he patted his wife on the back and cradled
a sleeping Meggie in his arm.  Skinner, standing slightly behind him
smiling broadly.  Out of the corner of his eye Mulder noted his
grinning ex-AD, and it warmed him even more as he took the first ring
from Jon Honea.  When he placed it on Scully's finger she stared at
the lovely creation with wide eyes - eyes which overflowed yet again
as she took in the unique beauty of her wedding ring.  With trembling
hands she took Mulder's ring from the Elder's hand, and placed it on
his finger.  Together they murmured the final vow, face to face and
with hands linked together as Jon Honea wrapped an Inupiaq ceremonial
bonding sash around their hands.  Made of tanned leather and
decorated with hundreds of beads, the sash was a piece of art in
itself.

With hands bound together they spoke in unison.

"With my body I worship - with my heart I adore - with my life I
love - with my soul, forever bind myself to you..."

And still bound hand to hand and heart to heart... they kissed.

********

The wedding party spilled from the church back into the rectory
where everyone took their turn shaking hands with the groom and
kissing the bride.

"I think the occasion calls for a celebratory dinner," Mary
announced.  Scully looked over at the other woman and frowned.

"Mary - no.  Please, we've put you through enough trouble already,"
she protested.  Mary shook her head.

"Nonsense.  It won't be anything fancy," she warned.  "I have some
tomato sauce in the freezer.  It won't take long to thaw."  She
stepped closer to Scully and laid a hand on hers.  Despite the fact
that she was a few years younger than Scully, her eyes held the
wisdom of a much older woman.

"You need to learn to find the small moments of joy and hold onto
them with both hands," she murmured softly.  "I think it would be
good for everyone to stretch this celebration out at least for a
little while longer.  Tomorrow reality will come crashing back down
on all of us.  We have to take the respites when they come."

Scully squeezed the other woman's hand and nodded.  "What can I do
to help?" she asked.  Mary threw her a look of mock horror.

"You are the bride," she said in a scandalized voice.  "You are to
do nothing but stand there and look radiant," she told her.  Turning
to the others, she began to herd them toward the kitchen.  "As for
the rest you, however," she said, "you can all come this way and help
me put this little reception together."

Scully turned toward Mulder and leaned lightly against him as the
sound of laughing voices and clanging pots and pans emanated from the
kitchen.  He smoothed his hand over her hair and looked down at her
with laughing eyes.  His smile faded as he took in the intensity of
her gaze.  Scully's head was tilted back and tiny wisps of hair had
come loose to frame her face.  Her eyes were smoky and heavy-lidded
as she stretched up to wind her arms around his neck and draw his
face down to hers.  Her mouth moved over his softly, her lips
clinging moistly to his before she teased his mouth open.  Mulder
groaned against her mouth as he banded his arms around her waist,
hauling her closer.

Scully broke off the kiss, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth
for a moment before sinking back down onto her heels.  Her eyes moved
hungrily over his face as she scratched her nails lightly over the
back of his neck.

"How much time do you think we have before dinner is ready?" she
asked as she flicked her eyes toward the stairs.  Mulder moaned and
dropped his head into the curve of her neck, pressing his lips
against the pulse pounding under her jaw.

"Not enough," he told her.  Lifting his head, he studied her face
with glittering eyes.  "Once I get you out of that dress, I'm not
going to let you put anything back on for the rest of the night," he
warned.  Scully sighed and rested her cheek against his chest.

"I just want to be alone with you," she whispered into his shirt.
Mulder shivered as he felt her fingers slip under his shirt to stroke
his belly.  A strangled sound escaped his throat as he pushed her
away.  He expected to see a teasing smile on her face and a jolt of
lust surged through him as he took in her slumberous eyes and
slightly swollen lips.  She swayed toward him and he groaned as he
glanced at his watch, wondering how rude it would be to eat quickly
and then drag Scully up to their room.  Surely the others would
understand...

*********

In the end, they stayed downstairs longer than they expected.
Dinner had been a raucous affair filled with the clinking of
silverware, the chatter of the adults and the high-pitched giggles
and shrieks of the children. Jon Honea had contributed a bottle of
wine to the dinner and a toast was made to the bride and groom.

After dinner was finished and the dishes cleaned up, they settled in
the living room, stuffed with pasta and salad.  Cooling cups of
coffee and empty bowls of ice cream littered the tables in the living
room.  Skinner was sitting on the sofa, Meggie sleeping peacefully on
his shoulder as he conversed in low tones with Mary and her father.
Bill and Tara were settled on the loveseat, whispering softly to one
another, and she stroked Matty's hair as he lay with his head in her
lap.  Mulder's eyes roved over the small group gathered around him,
holding his bride who was curled up in his lap as he rested in a
chair in one corner of the room.  She was quiet in his arms and he
would have believed her asleep if it were not for the rhythmic
stroking of her fingers under the collar of his shirt and the tiny
kisses she was pressing into his neck.

Skinner turned his head and met Mulder's eyes.  Standing, he
stretched and addressed the gathering.

"We've got a long day ahead of us," he said.  "I suggest we finish
cleaning up and get to bed."  He bit back a laugh as Scully's head
eagerly popped up from her husband's shoulder.  She leaned forward to
collect their empty coffee cups and Mary stayed her hand.

"Go on up," she said softly.  "We've got this."  Skinner, Mary and
her father carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, while Bill and
Tara gathered up their sleeping children.

"Good night," Tara whispered over Meggie's tousled hair as she
pressed her lips first to Mulder's cheek, then Scully's.  "We'll see
you in the morning," she said as she followed Bill up the stairs.

Mulder waited until he heard the bedroom door close behind the
little family and then he grabbed his wife's hand, hauling her
eagerly up the stairs behind him.

At the top of the stairs he swept her up into his arms and carried
her those few final feet to their room.  He never broke eye contact
with her as he pushed the door wide with one foot, and brought her
inside.  Setting her down gently upon the faded quilt, Mulder turned
back to the door and locked it - then bolted it.  When he faced
Scully again, she was leaning back on the bed, smiling - and blushing.

She was blushing.  Mulder was enchanted by the pink of her cheeks,
as shy as any bride on her wedding night.  It was amazing and
wonderful, that this woman should blush for him now, at this moment
in the beginning of their lives together.  Mulder just stood and
stared for several seconds, before murmuring, "Oh, Scully... I'm
going to love you into oblivion and back... and then I'm gonna start
all over again and reverse the route.  You're not gonna know what hit
you..."

Scully smiled up at him with hot eyes as he leaned over her, and
purred out a low, "Bring it on, FBI-Boy..."  Brave words considering
her cheeks were still pink as a rose.  Her hair had come unpinned and
fanned the pillow under her head, and the hem of the borrowed kuspuk
had crept up past her knees.  There were small shadows under her eyes
and she looked tired and vulnerable - and gorgeous beyond anything
he'd ever seen.  She wore a band of scrimshaw ivory around her ring
finger and she was his, finally his.

Mulder found himself unable to get past the wonder of just that.
And he had to admit to himself that marriage made all the difference.
Why, he might never understand.  He just knew it did.

His wife. Dana.  Thank you, God...

With hands that trembled just a little he slipped off her beaded
moccasins one by one, fingers stroking the high instep of her small
feet.  He raised one to his face and pressed his lips to the graceful
arch, the faint cling of leather not an unpleasant smell.  Scully
squirmed a little, ticklish it would seem - but she stared at him
unblinkingly and didn't stop him.  He murmured against her little
toes, "These are my wife's toesies..."

She giggled.  The sound was delightful.

He ran a lazy tongue up the inside of Scully's leg, tasting her soft
skin, nuzzling here and there on the journey if a certain spot caught
his interest.  She sighed raggedly as his tongue swirled over her
sensitive skin.  He nudged aside the soft silk of her dress as he
moved north toward the one frontier he wanted so badly to conquer...
to find when he got there and lifted the kuspuk above her hips that
she -

"- No panties... Scully, you're not wearing panties!  When did you
take them off?" She smiled wickedly, pleased to have surprised him.
He stared up at her, propped against the pillows with the most
alluring, naughtiest look on her face.  Her soft response about did
him in.

"Kuspuks are meant to be worn without under-apparel, Mulder..."  His
eyes widened as he sent a hand up past her hips and slid them into
the rounded neckline of her dress, to find... bare nipple.

Holy shit.  How could he have not known?  When she had leaned
against him as she recited her vows.  When he took her in his arms
at the altar, and kissed her - when she stood next to him during their
wedding supper and her body had curved so sweetly underneath his
arm... she'd been naked underneath that pretty silk dress, all that
time.

Mulder found the imagery incredibly erotic and so much of a turn on
that he moaned as he slid back down her body, and took the dainty
heart of her into his mouth.  She gasped and arched against him,
fingers winding through his hair as he kissed and licked at her tiny
clit.  He'd never tasted anything so pure and clean, so perfect.  He
hummed into her as he stroked her wet flesh and her hips rose off the
bed as she began to shudder.

God, he was amazing, she thought as she shook and quivered under his
talented mouth.  She turned her face into the pillow, stifling a moan
as he lifted her leg over his shoulder.  His mouth moved softly,
insistently over her, taking what he wanted.  She chanted his name in
a choppy whisper as she gave herself over to him.

This was his wedding night... he wanted it to last for hours.  With
one last small suckle Mulder released her and gently removed the
kuspuk before it got any more wrinkled.  He laid it carefully on the
end of the bed and stayed on his knees next to Scully, drinking in
the sight of her glowing body there on the faded quilt.  God...  His
words came out in almost a growl of need.

"Undress me, Scully..." She rose up again on her elbows and her
smile was brilliant in its intensity.

"Gladly, Husband..." The unfamiliar yet welcome term made him smile...

She knelt on the mattress and motioned for Mulder to stand. "Shoes,"
she instructed and he toed them off, kicking them under the bed. His
knees shook and he pressed them into the side of the mattress as she
crawled across the quilt to him.  Scully rose up on her knees and
slid her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, curling them under
the hem of his shirt.  She placed her palms flat against his stomach
and slid them up his chest, using the backs of her wrists to push his
shirt up.

"Lift," she whispered and he obediently raised his arms into the
air.  Scully's breasts brushed against his bare chest as she
stretched up to tug the shirt from his upraised arms.  She tossed the
shirt toward the rocker in the corner of the room and slid back down
his torso, her hands skimming over the silky skin of his back.  She
sank down onto her heels and popped the metal button of his jeans
open with a flick of her fingers.  She slid the zipper slowly past
his erection and curled her fingers into the waistband of his jeans
and boxers, pushing them down his legs, her hair brushing across his
belly and thighs as she did so.

She sat back on her heels again and glanced down at the clothing
pooled around his calves.  She smiled and quirked a brow at him
before lowering her hands to the mattress and crawling backward to
make room for him.  She rose up on her knees again and looked down at
the empty place on the bed beside her.  She reached up to the pillows
and tugged the quilt out from beneath them, pushing it toward the
foot of the bed.  She plumped both pillows and stacked them against
the headboard, lying back against them and pulling him down into her
arms.

Scully sighed and arched her body into his, loving the feel of his
heavy weight pressing her into the cool sheets beneath her.  She
traced the curve of his ear with her tongue, biting down gently on
the lobe.  She could feel his penis pressing against her eagerly.

"No - wait," she said, pushing her hands against his shoulders.
Mulder's head lifted and he moaned her name pleadingly.  She pushed
against his chest again, forcing him to roll over.  His back rested
against the pillows and he tried to pull her back into his arms, but
she evaded his grip.  She slipped down his body and his hips jerked
as she slid him into her mouth.

"Scul--" he moaned.  "Nuh... don't."  She lifted her head and peered
at him through a veil of tangled hair.

"Shhh," she whispered, bending back to her task.  Her mouth moved
with the same soft insistence over his body as he'd done to her only
moments earlier.  Using her mouth and hands, she demanded that he
give himself over to her as she had given herself to him.  And with a
muffled curse and a final shudder of his body, he did so.

Scully pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his quivering stomach
and slid up his length.  Leaning against the pillows, she drew his
sweaty body into her arms, holding him as he struggled to bring his
breathing back under control.

Mulder's lashes fluttered open and hazel eyes met blue as his hands
began roaming her body again.  She cupped the back of his neck in her
palm and pulled him toward her.

"I love you," she sighed against his mouth.

Slow and easy they built it up between them.  Hands and fingers
stroking soft skin and hard flesh, slipping into damp heated folds
and nuzzling sweet scented curves.  All the time in the world...
tonight it was theirs.  The clock would cease to tick and the stars
would suspend themselves in the black sky outside the window of the
room where they consummated their marriage... and for Mulder it was
their first time as man and wife and that made it new and sweet and
fresh.

Every inch of her had to be kissed and each small spot of skin
deserved nothing less than his full attention.  He twisted shaky
fingers into her damp red hair and held her face close for his kiss -
not that she would have moved away.  Her lips clung to his as he
traced the fullness of her mouth and slid his tongue inside to twine
around hers.  He could taste himself in her mouth and the flavor of
it reminded him anew of her unselfishness during the loving.  And her
generosity was never more apparent - and treasured - than when she
cupped him between two warm hands as they kissed feverishly and the
feeling built, and built.

When Mulder moved up and over her body Scully released him and
curled her fingers into the firm skin of his cheeks, holding him as
he slipped into her body on one long eager glide.  She wound her legs
about his hips as he moved deeply, the tight sheath of her welcoming
him home.  They locked eyes as they rose and fell against each other,
now gently, now fiercely - and she matched him thrust for thrust and
kiss for kiss, when the need to connect fully became greater than the
desire to see with their eyes.

And when Scully began to shudder all around him; when the tension
snapped within her and she cried out her release into his open mouth,
Mulder anchored her spinning world with a driving, adoring body, and
followed her over into the abyss.

Home, both of them... home.

******************
end of chapter sixteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -




~ Chapter Fifteen ~

Happiness was a wonderful thing, Mulder decided, as he drove the big
Ford along Route 1 West toward Regina.  Beside him in the passenger
seat Scully lay facing him, a soft smile on her face as she watched
him drive.  The look in her sweet blue eyes warmed him, melted him -
and made it damned hard to concentrate on driving when all he wanted
to do was pull her down into the nearest rear seat and take large
delicious bites of her.  He forced his breathing to even out and
dragged his eyes back to the road, vaguely noting they were only
about twenty miles from the Regina city limits.

Once in Regina, they would find a hotel and stop for the night even
though it was rather early.  They had some serious wedding plans to
make - Mulder wanted to give Scully as much of a dream wedding as was
possible.  Maybe there wouldn't be a legion of family and friends
there and a band playing disco while they shoved white cake into each
others' faces and made a mad dash for a limo while wedding guests
bombarded them with rice... but the most important ingredients would
be there.  The family would be there.  They had a best man and a
matron of honor... not to mention someone to give the bride away.  As
far as Mulder was concerned, they had it all.

"What are you thinking about?"  The soft voice eased into his
consciousness and Mulder turned his head to smile at the woman he
adored.  Her hair was splayed out against the seat's head rest and
she looked breathtaking - the sight of her enough to make his poor
heart pound itself silly.  And she was gazing at him so tenderly as
she asked him to reveal his thoughts -

"I was thinking about the oddities of life."  He stifled a laugh as
both of Scully's eyebrows shot up, and added quickly, "Not that any
of us are odd!  But that life is odd.  A few days ago we were all
facing the 'end of the world as we know it', to quote the song...
today I'm happier than I have been in years.  With all we have to
face yet, I'm happy.  I'm barreling down a Canadian highway in a big-
ass Ford with my future wife and an ex-boss and an ex-Mulder-hater
whose wife and children have become as dear to me as my own family.
Your brother Bill and I had a bonding moment to end all bonding
moments, and although we didn't tear off our shirts and beat the drum
in front of the bonfire while smearing war paint on each other... it
was still bonding.  I may never get over it."

Scully scooted a little closer on her seat and her hand found
Mulder's knee and squeezed.  "Mulder... if I haven't yet told you...
I love it that you and my brother are finally getting along.  It
means the world to me."  Mulder placed a hand over hers and pressed
it into his leg, holding her hand there - keeping both of them warm.


They were exactly one mile inside the city limits of Regina when
Tara looked out of the window - and screamed.

Mulder slammed on the brakes and turned in time to see Tara cover
her eyes in anguish; Scully pushed her face into her window and
looked out, then gasped and turned to Mulder.  Her expression was
bathed in fear.

"Mulder oh God oh no Jesus.  Jesus..."  For out in the city streets
of Regina a war had begun... and the good guys were not winning.

There were bees everywhere.  They flew about in the air like drunken
little zeppelins, dive-bombing the screaming people who with crazed
purpose were trying to run.   Hundreds of them, zooming about,
causing traffic collisions as cars and other vehicles swerved to
avoid the pedestrians who ran out into the street.  And Mulder had
stomped on the brakes a millisecond before slamming into an elderly
woman tearing frantically at her snow-white hair - which was spotted
with bees.  In the back of their Excursion the children had awoken
from their nap and were crying in terror; Bill and Tara were trying
their best to shield their little faces from the carnage beyond the
safe confines of the cab.  Skinner turned away from his horrified
observance of the world gone mad outside his window, and called out
to Mulder.

"We've got to get the hell out of here!  If we get stuck in this
mess we're doomed."

Mulder nodded grimly, nosing the big Ford forward through whatever
open spaces he could find - but it was slow going.  He didn't want to
hit anything; they could not afford front-end damage to the
Excursion.  And he prayed he wouldn't hit any people, although by the
looks of things these folks were already condemned to die; their
demise ordained by a higher alien force.  Under his breath he could
hear himself chanting in despair, "Why why why WHY...!"

As they moved forward the bees were relentless in their programmed
fury.  Aggressively attacking, for the virus brought out the evil in
them as well, if insects even had a dark side... incongruous but
impossible to deny.  Though they'd known what was coming; though
they'd been warned... the carnage was terrible to see.

There was not a single thing do be done for these people... not a
thing.

Scully gasped as she was an unwilling witness to a furious coven of
honeybees who gathered around the head of a little blonde-haired
girl; the child screamed and stumbled, running into a fire hydrant.
Scully turned away when the child fell and the bees surrounded her,
high childish screams turning into agonized moans...

Mulder's eyes burned with hot, unshed tears as he kept the vehicle
moving forward, forcing himself to concentrate on the road and not
the sight of innocent people meeting such a gruesome end.  Knowing
that some would die, instantly; they'd be the lucky ones.  They would
be the inferior incubators, and the virus would reject them, seeping
out of their bodies and going in search of someone stronger.  Someone
with the right constitution, whatever that might be... someone who'd
make a dandy cocoon for the monster developing within.  And those
incubators would know what was happening to them... just as Scully
had known.

Jesus, Lord - help us all, Mulder thought.  Deliver us from madness...

Inch by inch the Ford edged around the mayhem that had once been a
quiet little town.  Skinner looked out the side windows, tears
trickling unashamedly down his face as the imagery of the Apocalypse
superimposed itself against the backdrop of what had once been a
nice place to live.  A Burger King and a Texaco Station; along the
main drag little shops with signs like 'Sew Sue Me', and 'Hair
Today/Gone Tomorrow'... a candy shop with display windows bursting
with confections of every sort - an Ace Hardware store and a Radio
Shack.  A neat little post office and a cute little public library.
Regina had been a very sweet place.  A great place to raise a
family...

No longer... Skinner pushed his face into his hands and cried.
Cried for what this town had once meant to its citizens, cried for
the helplessness they all felt as they ran for their lives and in
doing so established their selfish need to live by not stepping out
of the cab to help another human being.

As if they could do anything... of course they could not.  And this,
too had been the master plan of the alien colonists, all along.  Make
the stupid little humans unable to save each other; make them run
around like headless chickens in their fear and matchless anguish.
Make them suffer; make them die.  All of them, die.

All except the passengers of a big-ass Ford Excursion on a one-way
trip to a colder climate - and a temporary reprieve.

Finally spotting a free lane and flooring it, Mulder pushed his
advantage.  The vehicle leapt forward, knocking over trash cans
sitting at the curb of Main and Second Avenue; careening around the
corner and speeding down Second as fast as possible.  As they bore
down the avenue the bees became more and more sparse; they ran two
red lights and narrowly missed a biker overcome by bees, still
sitting upright on his Harley.

Inside the cab Matty and Meggie's cries had reduced down to sobs and
hiccups.  They leaned against their parents and trembled.  Tara
rocked Meggie, wet face buried in the child's soft hair.  Matty
curled himself into his father's arms and sucked furiously on his
thumb.  Bill didn't have the heart to stop him, although they'd been
after the boy to stop thumbsucking.  Now was not the time to rip that
comfort away.  Scully glanced back at her family, reassuring herself
they were all right, and Bill met her frightened eyes with a small
shaky smile and remarked, "Wish I could suck on MY thumb, right about
now..."

Scully smiled back, just a little.  "Go ahead, Big Brother - I won't
tell a soul."

Five miles of turning and twisting down the side streets of Regina
had taken them away from the city proper.  They found themselves
skirting the countryside in the early-evening twilight.  As Mulder
drove he kept a sharp lookout for any more bee fatalities, but the
worst of the threat had seemed to be just in the downtown area.  As
if someone had just flown overhead and dropped a shitload of bees on
the poor, unsuspecting citizens of Regina...

Which he had a feeling was exactly how it had gone down.

Half an hour later they were back on Route 1, going west toward
Whitehorse.  By silent and mutual agreement there would be no more
stops.  Mulder would drive until he was tired and then pull over for
Bill to take the wheel.  If they drove nonstop they'd reach
Whitehorse in less than two days.

Beside him in the front cab Scully sat on the middle console, as
close to Mulder as she could get without interfering with his
driving.  She kept one hand behind his head, palm warm and comforting
on his neck; the other hand curved around his inner thigh.  Mulder
craved her touch more than ever.  The images of what they'd been
forced to witness were still too fresh; would remain fresh and in
Technicolor in his brain, far beyond this day.  Mulder needed
Scully's hands on him - needed to know she was alive and safe.  He
murmured to her without taking his eyes from the road.

"Scully... pinch me, hard.  Please."   She quirked an eyebrow but
did as he asked, and pinched his inner thigh hard enough to bruise
him.  He jumped a little but never broke concentration with the road.
Scully smoothed her fingers over the hurt, and said nothing.  After
another few minutes of silence, he spoke.

"Thank you, baby.  I just wanted to assure myself... that I'm still
alive..."

Scully nodded, and smiled.  Alive, she thought.  He was alive and
that was all that mattered to her at the moment.  She brought her
face close to his and kissed his cheek, whispering into his ear.  "I
know, sweetheart.  I know..."

*******************

They made it to Whitehorse in two days.  Taking turns with the
driving and stopping only for gas and food, they drove through the
remainder of Saskatchewan, British Columbia and finally the Yukon
Territory.  Two days of relative silence in the cab of the Excursion,
each adult trying to keep from dwelling upon what they'd been forced
to witness - the first strike of the alien colonizers.  The children
had nightmares when they slept and clung to whatever adult they could
when they were awake.  More often than not it was Skinner who would
hold their small bodies close to him and soothe their fright with
silly stories and even sillier songs.  He was gentle and sweet with
them and Tara fell in love with him in two days, between Regina and
Whitehorse.  His attention to the children gave her a chance to spend
some time with Bill, which went a long way toward helping both of
them to recover from what they'd seen.

The trip west was still fraught with peril - two days into
colonization and the signs of it were everywhere.  They drove through
towns left deserted and abandoned either by death or by evacuation.
Once in a while they encountered people walking around, dazed and
disoriented.  They saw bees in attack mode, and more often than not
the resulting bad dreams shook them to their very foundations - and
they saw what was perhaps the most heinous sight of all: the first
evidence of a complete gestation cycle.  Obviously the resulting
embryonic entity had vacated the used-up body which lay in the street
with its chest gaping open.  The entity was nowhere to be seen - and
it was hard to say how long the entire cycle had taken.

The first time Bill saw it he gasped aloud.  Pointing at it, he
turned to Scully with wide, distressed eyes.

"Jesus, Dana! Is THIS what would have happened to Charlie?!"  They'd
been in the middle seat huddled together, soft voices reminiscing
about this and that - when Bill looked out the window.  The big burly
man fallen at the side of the road had been on his back - skin like
sticky gel and glazed with death.  His chest had been gaping open and
there was blood everywhere.  Scully closed her eyes at the sight and
swallowed hard as she answered her brother.

"Yes - it could have happened to Charlie.  We think the virus
attacks in different ways.  He could have ended up gestating an alien
entity within his body - consumed from the inside out and aware of
what was happening to him - and he would have suffered horribly.  He
could also have been affected by that aspect of the virus which seems
to cause good people to commit the most reprehensible of crimes - as
Charlie did."

Scully turned into her brother's arms and rested her head on his
shoulder, unable to make her brain erase the images still so fresh in
her memory.  Bill soothed a hand over her shoulder and his voice was
hushed when he spoke.

"Dana... I can't begin to imagine how to accept something as
unbelievable as this happening in the world - yet there it is.  And
you and Mulder have been fighting this... God.  You may just be the
most courageous person I know..."  Scully smiled up at him with a
lopsided little grin, and her retort made him smile as well.

"I don't know about courageous, Bill... foolhardy sometimes,
perhaps.  Strong only when I've got someone at my back, like Mulder.
But I'm as afraid as the next person.  I think about the future and I
am beyond terrified.  The fight we will have on our hands, just to
survive... we'll have to be strong together.  All of us together..."

Bill nodded, and gave her a loving squeeze.  "We will be, Dana...
when the time comes."  Scully laid her head once more against her
brother's shoulder, and her whispered words were meant only for him.

"Bill... as much as you can, please keep Tara and the children from
seeing the worst of the carnage.  It's bad enough that Mulder and I
have to acknowledge this horror... and we've had a long time to
acclimate ourselves to it.  No one should be forced to have this
image burned into their brains."

Whitehorse was a relatively small city, but well-kept and clean; a
level piece of ground surrounded by mountain ranges.  There were
stores and quite a few hotels;  all the regular tourist-type shops
and restaurants everywhere.

There were also bodies littering the streets in lieu of papers and
pop cans and old newspapers.  Dead bodies, discarded human
incubators... evidence of murder by madness, brought on by the virus
and the way it attacked each person.  Bill forbade Tara to look out
of the windows and made her keep the children between them, hidden
from the gruesome view.  She obeyed his low-voiced command with wide,
frightened eyes.

In this part of the Yukon Territory the air was cold and damp, with
autumn already finished and winter creeping up fast.  The general
consensus amongst the adults concluded that this far north there
would still be insect activity but it would be sluggish, as the
hibernating species would be preparing for their customary long
sleep.  But if a large enough swarm were dropped into the area, they
could cause significant damage.  They knew they couldn't stay long -
and they couldn't take a chance on lingering outside the vehicle for
very long.

Skinner wheeled down the main thoroughfare, sharp eyes on the
lookout for gas stations - but he slammed on the brakes when he
spotted a church.  Small and made of cedar logs, it sat back from the
main drag.  There was a sign on the still-green front lawn.  Skinner
read it aloud.

"Yukon Gospel Outreach - hmm.  Doesn't say what denomination."  From
the truck it was hard to see if there was life beyond the stained
glass front windows.  Mulder shrugged and made to open the door, but
Skinner stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"Wait, Mulder!  You're just gonna go out there with no protection?
Don't be stupid.  You need someone to watch your back; we don't know
what we're up against here..." Mulder interrupted him firmly.

"Walter, I'm immune, remember?  If anyone should go it's me.  If I
get stung it's no big deal.  I just run a fever and spit up black
shit."  His smile was reassuring.  "Scully and I need to do this.  We
want to do it now, before it gets any worse and there's nobody left.
Hell, there may NOT be anyone left - this town looks damned deserted.
We want to get married in a church, if we can - by someone ordained."
He looked back at Scully, who sat next to Tara bouncing Meggie on her
knee.  Scully returned his loving stare with one equally tender,
visibly trying her best not to look afraid.  He smiled again at her
and spoke softly and confidently.

"I'm just gonna check out the church. If I find anyone in there I'll
signal you from the window.  You just hang tight and don't open the
doors or windows."  With that he shrugged into his jacket and
carefully opened the door, although he couldn't see any bees.  He
quickly slipped out the small gap and slammed the door behind him.
He refused to look around him at the bodies dotting the streets and
yards of the town.  Fending off one or two droning bees that had
dropped to his level from out of nowhere, he ran to the church and
shoved at the front door, which swung open easily.  Slamming the door
firmly, Mulder walked up the center aisle.

The church was small and damp and a little cold, as if the heat
hadn't been run for some time.  Rustic, yet elegant with its cedar
log beams and roughly carved pews, it had a welcoming aura that
greeted him as he stood in the aisle and yelled, "Anyone home?"

Five minutes passed before Mulder heard anything, and then before he
could whip around and confront the footstep behind him he felt the
prod of a gun in his back, and a rough voice in his ear.  A rough,
female voice...

"Who are you and what do you want?  We have nothing to steal.  State
your business and get the hell out."  Mulder held up his hands in
surrender and kept his voice easy and calm.

"Take it slow with that gun. Okay?  I'm a Federal agent.  I can't
prove it but I am."  The gun poked him when he tried to turn around,
and the voice was hostile and disbelieving.

"What would FBI be doing up here now, when everyone's dead or dying?
You're too late.  I don't know how many people are still alive but
it's not many.  Goddamn bees... everywhere.  We were all outside,
dammit!  All outside... a wedding.  Shit!  It was a cause for
celebration, here in town - and everyone came.  All of us outside,
having fun..."  He heard a sniffle; the woman was fighting back
tears, he'd bet.  She poked him again and her voice was just as tough.

"Turn around!  Slowly.  I want to see into your eyes.  If you're
lying I'll know."  Slowly and carefully Mulder turned around, trying
not to make any sudden moves.  He turned and locked eyes with this
latest, armed threat -

And had to look down to do it, because this threat was no bigger
than Scully.

And as young.

She had long black hair held off her face with a white headband and
she would have fit nicely under his chin - same as Scully.  Big eyes,
almost black - wide-cheeked and dark-skinned.  Native, Mulder
realized.  Heavier than Scully but still on the delicate side;
dressed in torn jeans and a dirt-smeared sweatshirt, the woman looked
to be about thirty.  She handled the shotgun in her arms with casual
authority, and when she spoke her wide mouth did not show any
expression.

"Now then, FBI.  I repeat - what are you doing here?  I want
answers."  Mulder smiled at her as confidently as he could with a gun
in his face, and the woman actually bared her teeth at him.  He
sighed.

"We came up from the States.  Trying to escape the bees - we're
headed north to where the bees can't go.  Look, Miss - we're
harmless.  Honestly.  My family is out in that Excursion parked at
the curb - and we are tired and hungry and scared and my partner and
I want to get married.  Is there a minister here at the church?"

The woman looked at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns.  Mulder
actually found himself wanting to check his forehead for little
pointy bone protrubences... Suddenly the woman barked out a laugh
that sounded very familiar to Mulder, and he realized that for some
weird reason she reminded him of Skinner.

"You want to marry your partner.  Now.  In this church.  You must be
one insane white guy, Mister... you been outside lately?  There IS no
more reason to marry, not anymore.  The world is ending.  I don't
know why but I can see how.  A plague of bees, who would have
thought?  My father and I expected locusts.  At least that's what the
Revelation told us.  I never thought I'd see it in my lifetime.  Not
like this - not so cruel as this."  The woman's hands shook, and she
dropped the gun and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Like a
light snapping off she went from tough to weak and grief-stricken.
And Mulder did the only thing he could think of when faced with
another human in pain - he stepped closer to her and drew her into a
gentle embrace and let her sob on him.  He rocked her a little,
thinking this was one of the more bizarre moments of his life.

Sniffling, the woman pulled away and wiped at her eyes, then a very
small smile flashed out at Mulder, which transformed her entire face.
Pink-cheeked, she thanked him gruffly and sank down into the nearest
pew.  Mulder sat next to her and waited patiently.  Finally, she
spoke.

"My name is Mary Honea.  My father is the Elder here - preacher,"
she explained.  "We have been holed up in the rectory for two days,
afraid to go outside.  When the bees came we didn't know what was
happening.  Some of our friends killed themselves, thinking it was
the end of the world.  I thought so too - and then I saw something.
Horrible, just awful - I can't imagine anything so horrible.  One of
our neighbors, Mr. Fronke - something grew inside him and exploded
out early this morning and ran away.  He'd keeled over in our back
yard and I could see him from the rectory window.  That's when I knew
it wasn't the Revelation.  That's when I knew it was evil, but not of
this world."

Mulder sighed again and did his best to explain the last few months,
keeping it as short and precise as possible.  When he finished, Mary
nodded, seemingly understanding and accepting as well.  She stood up
and looked toward the door.

"You and your family are welcome here.  You can stay as long as you
need to, and I am sure my father would be glad to marry you and your
woman.  I'll go get him - but please - he's old and fragile right
now.  You see, my mother died yesterday - and we couldn't even go to
her and bury her.  She is in the greenhouse.  I won't let my father
go in there - I saw the black fluid you described come out of her
nose, you see.  I knew it was very, very dangerous. I'm a nurse, by
the way." She nodded to Mulder and walked to a back entrance and
slipped through the door panel.  Mulder wiped his face wearily, then
went to the front door of the church and opened it carefully,
motioning to everyone in the Ford.

**************

Jonathan Honea had been born in Barrow, Alaska but had moved south
with his family as a young man fresh out of seminary.  He and his
wife Anna had raised six children in Whitehorse, establishing himself
in a church that he'd helped to create.  He'd had a wonderful life,
the only  sadness being the death of his youngest daughter Mary's
husband Calvin.  After his death she'd moved back to Whitehorse from
Anchorage where she'd worked in an Inupiaq free clinic, and had
helped the local small hospital outside of Whitehorse.  Mary was a
Godsend to her elderly parents, and life had been better -

Until now.

Jon Honea shook his head, and clasped his daughter's hand as she sat
next to him on the comfortable sofa in the rectory's sitting room.
Gathered in front of them the Scullys and Mulder and Skinner listened
with sympathy as he described his Anna.  "She was a pretty little
girl when I first met her, and she just got prettier as she got
older.  On the inside, too - so pretty.  Like my Mary -" He squeezed
his daughter's hand, and Mary smiled at him -  "Where it counted.
Inupiaq life teaches us that the value and beauty of a person is
measured in the spirit.  A beautiful spirit is treasured, more than
gold - more than anything.  In this my Anna had no equal."  Tears
shone in the old man's eyes as he spoke of his life-mate, and his
pain at not being able to afford her dignity in death was very
apparent as well.

"Mary tells me not to touch Anna; that this substance coming out of
her has to be some type of poison.  I have seen the death outside our
doors - I know what it is.  I saw one of them, early yesterday."
Mary turned to stare at her father in disbelief.

"You didn't tell me you saw one, Dad!  Why didn't you say anything?"
Mary was clearly upset by this, and her father shook his head sadly
as he answered her.

"I didn't want to frighten you, Daughter.  I wasn't to know you'd
already seen.  I knew you would believe me - but I hoped to spare
you."  Mary nodded sadly, and gave her father's stooped shoulders a
gentle hug.  Her voice was firm with him.

"I'm a nurse.  I have seen terrible things in my life."  She turned
and addressed Mulder and Scully.  "I once helped a trapper cut off
his leg to escape a bear trap that neither of us had the strength to
budge.  I helped him cut and then I dragged him through the woods and
up onto the road to flag down a car.  I had nothing but an old
hunting jacket to wrap around his thigh, and he bled to death on the
way to the hospital.  He was Calvin, my second cousin - and my
husband."  Scully made a soft sound of sympathy and reached out a
hand to the native woman, who took it hesitantly as if unused to
comfort from another woman.

Mulder cleared his suddenly clogged throat, and his voice was low
and earnest.  "What you think is happening in the world - it's true.
And right now the only way to escape it is to go north.  Go to a cold
climate; somewhere that the black oil cannot survive and the bees
can't go.   As far north as possible - Alaska, obviously.  Where in
Alaska, we aren't entirely sure.  Barrow sounds far enough but I know
it's well-known.  We may be safer in a smaller village - some tiny
dot on a map."  Jon Honea nodded slowly.

"I know such a place.  I lived there for a few years when I was a
boy.  It's about seventy-five miles east of Barrow.  You can fly in
or snowmobile - or mush in - but it's isolated.  Mt. Vu'luk.  Small
place.  Is that what you have in mind?"

Scully thought for a moment, then looked at Mary before she
answered.  "Mr. Honea, I'm a medical doctor as well as a Federal
Agent.  Is there a clinic in this village?  We would need one."  Jon
Honea nodded.

"Yes, a clinic.  Very small, but equipped with just about all the
important things.  Mary knows.  She was up there last year."  He
looked at his daughter, and she spoke up.

"That's right.   It's got a lab and plenty of supplies, most of them
new.  I supervised its setup, last year.  The village had needed a
clinic for so long - it was a happy day for them."  Mary rose and
approached Tara who was sitting on the sofa holding Meggie in her
arms.  She knelt down in front of the child and smiled at her; the
wide grin changing her features and lending them the sort of beauty
which her father had described her spirit as having.  Meggie stared
at Mary, then reached out a hand and grabbed hold of a hunk of hair
that had escaped the white headband.  She pulled and Mary winced.
Tara extricated her daughter's little hands with a mortified look on
her face, stuttering her apologies.  Mary waved it away with another
smile.

"Don't worry; she didn't hurt me.  I have a lot of hair.  She is a
lovely child."  Mary's face was wistful, and when she turned back to
her father her gaze fell upon Skinner and she actually blushed at the
intensity of his stare from behind the wire rimmed glasses.  Mulder
noted the little by-play... and smiled to himself.

Mary served them caribou stew for lunch.  The meat was a little
strong in flavor and its texture was stringy but it was the first
real food they'd had in many days - and everyone wolfed it down, even
Meggie; she sat on her father's lap sucking happily on a piece of
meat.  Mulder had never tasted anything so good.  As a boy he'd had
venison but never caribou - and he made a vow to keep his silence
about the fact that caribou were, in effect reindeer - he didn't
think Matty would appreciate eating Rudolph...

After lunch the women went with Mary to her rooms to find proper
wedding apparel, the petite native woman eyeing Scully with a
practiced eye and declaring she had the perfect dress.  The men
stayed in the sitting room and discussed the upcoming fight, with
Skinner and Mulder taking turns explaining to Jon Honea what would
continue to happen to the world.  While he spoke, Mulder never got
the feeling that the elderly preacher didn't understand or didn't
accept his words.  Jon listened with an open mind, nodding and asking
intelligent questions which indicated he had somehow found a way to
accept that which he'd already witnessed since colonization had
begun.  Mulder was impressed by his openness, and commented on it.
The Elder shrugged and smiled slightly.

"It is not our way to disregard what our eyes tell us is real.  I
have seen this - and my eyes do not lie to me.  They have lived a
long time viewing the world around me, and they know the difference
between a dream, and reality.  I may want to run from the reality
they see... but where would I go?  It is all around me."  Jon stood
up and stretched his stiff limbs, then went to a glass-enclosed
cupboard in the corner of the room and unlocked it with a key he
pulled from his pants pocket.  Reaching into the cupboard, he brushed
aside a sheaf of papers and small wooden and ivory carvings, and
extracted a box.  Bringing it over to the sofa he sat down between
Mulder and Bill, and flipped open the hinged lid of the box, to
reveal two small ivory circlets, intricately carved.  He picked up
the larger one and held it out to Mulder, who slowly took it between
two fingers and held it up for Bill and Skinner to see.

The ring was beyond lovely - it was a true work of art. Almost one-
half inch wide, the rounded band was carved with a repeating pattern
of whales cavorting through tiny breaking waves; over the whales flew
several birds with their wings majestically outspread.  Mulder
couldn't imagine anyone having the patience - not to mention the
talent - to carve something this detailed and tiny.  He murmured his
awe out loud, and Jon Honea smiled and bowed formally in thanks.

"I thank you.  This is a tribal bonding ring, made of walrus ivory
and used in Inupiaq wedding ceremonies.  The carving method is called
scrimshaw, which is achieved by scratching the ivory in designs and
then filling the scratches with fine black ash.  The whales swimming
in the ocean represent a long and fertile life - and the ravens
flying over the sea protect the wearer and guide them through life's
waters.  Ravens are sacred to us.  They are the wisest and most
determined of all bird species, because they do not migrate - they
will not leave their home.  They find ways to live in arctic
temperatures, and above all they survive."  The old preacher shook
his head when Mulder would have given back the ring, and instead
pressed his fingers together around the ring, trapping it in his
palm.  At Mulder's look of confusion, Jon Honea smiled again.

"This ring should belong to someone who stands for its constancy...
someone who is determined to love - to survive and to relish each day
left on this great earth.  I carved them last year, after a dream I
had.  I dreamed of a day of terror and pain, although I could not see
the source of that pain.  But I was told in my dream to make the
bonding rings, that someone would have need of them soon.  I think
you and your Dana have need - and if you like them they are yours, to
use in your bonding ceremony." With that, the Elder dipped into the
box and pulled out the smaller ring, identically carved - placing it
into Mulder's palm next to its mate.  Overwhelmed, Mulder picked up
the larger circlet of smooth warm ivory and slipped it on his hand -
and it was a perfect fit.  Somehow, he wasn't a bit surprised - and
he had a feeling the other ring would fit Scully's small fingers just
right.  He clasped the old man's shoulders, and tried to find words
to express his gratitude... but the Elder waved them away.

"You will repay me by taking my Mary to safety - this promise of
yours I will hold you to, Mr. Mulder.  When the time comes, you will
keep her safe for me."  His earnest gaze fell on Mulder and then
Bill, who nodded solemnly - and then lingered on Skinner, who met
that wise stare and found himself nodding as well.  Agreeing to
something, but to what he wasn't quite sure - and finding that it
really didn't matter at all.  Whatever he'd agreed to... it was
right.  Skinner cleared away the sudden lump in his throat, and his
words came out in a croak.

"You'll come with us, Mr. Honea.  We will need spiritual guidance -
and your daughter needs her father."  It wasn't a request, but more
of an order; Skinner was at heart still that tough ex-Marine.  And
Jon Honea responded with grace and dignity, as he turned to Skinner,
and bowed slightly.

"I thank you."

***************
end of chapter fifteen


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -




~ Chapter Fourteen ~


Factoring in rush hour traffic, they were less than five hours from
the Canadian border.  The children were surprisingly quiet, seeming
to pick up on the sober moods of the adults.  Scully was driving and
Mulder had pulled out the identification packets provided by their
mysterious benefactor and reviewed the plan with Skinner, Bill and
Tara.  When they were less than thirty minutes from the border
crossing, Scully steered the truck off the road and into a deserted
picnic area.  She pulled up alongside the public restrooms and
everyone piled out to use the facilities.  After yesterday's scare,
however, they moved quickly to once again reach the relative safety
of the truck.

They sorted through the supplies in the back of the vehicle and
moved as much as possible onto the roof rack.  Bill flipped down the
back seat of the Excursion and held the rear door open.  Scully
climbed in first and curling into a ball, squeezed herself under the
middle seat.  Mulder scrambled in behind her and settled on the floor
between the middle and rear seats.  Finally Skinner crawled in and
folded his large frame up in the back of the truck, effectively
spooning behind Mulder, all three of them hardly daring to breathe.
Bill and Tara stacked boxes on the folded-down rear seat and draped
two blankets over the boxes, shrouding the hidden passengers in a
makeshift tent.  They piled the rest of the camping gear, blankets
and supplies on top and climbed back into the cab.

"Are you all right, back there?" Bill called.  Scully uttered a
muffled 'yes' while Mulder and Skinner groaned in discomfort.

"Mommy, I wanna hide too," Matty whined from the middle seat.  He
was squirming against his seatbelt trying to see Scully as she hid
under his seat.  Tara glanced worriedly at her husband.  Despite all
the plans they had made, they hadn't considered the fact that one of
the children would give away their secret.

"No Matty," she said.  "Only the grownups are going to hide right
now.  And you can't tell anyone that they are hiding, okay?" she
turned solemn green eyes toward her son.

"Ooookayy," he said in a long-suffering voice.  Tara smiled
approvingly.

"That's my good boy," she smiled.  When they were less than half a
mile from the border station, Tara reached down and rifled through
the diaper bag at her feet.  "Matty," she called.  "Look what I
found!"  She pulled out a Star Wars coloring book and an eight-pack
of crayons and handed them back to her son.  Matty's eyes lit up and
he was laboriously coloring in a picture of the Millennium Falcon
when Bill pulled to a stop near the guard shack.  "Smooth," he said
as he looked at his wife admiringly.  A glance in the rearview mirror
showed that Matthew's attention was focused on his coloring.  He was
seemingly unaware that they had stopped.  Tara nodded and slipped a
cassette of children's music into the tape player and she twisted in
her seat and began to sing with Meggie as Bill inched closer to the
guard shack.

"Good morning," Bill greeted the guard as he rolled down his window.
Tara leaned forward, her smile open and friendly as she glanced at
the guard who was holding out his hand for their identification.  The
guard took Bill's driver's license and the vehicle registration and
consulted the clipboard held in other hand.

"Kimberly and Brian Quinn?" he asked.  Bill nodded and kept a
friendly look on his face as he surreptitiously watched a second
guard who was slowly walking around the vehicle.

Scully held her breath as she strained to hear the conversation
between her brother and the border guard.  She felt Mulder's hand
tighten on her hip and she fought an insane urge to pull her gun from
the waistband of her jeans.  She could hear Skinner's controlled
breathing from behind Mulder and she turned her face into the thin
carpet on the floor of the truck as she willed the guard to let them
pass.

"Where are you headed, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn?" the first guard asked.
Bill glanced over at Tara and then back at the kids before returning
his gaze to the guard.

"We're taking the kids up into Saskatchewan," he said, reciting the
pre-arranged details.  "Thought we'd do a little camping before it
gets too cold."  The guard nodded and continued to study the
identification.  Bill could feel a line of sweat trickle down his
back.  "Listen," he said in a conversational voice.  "I want to head
north on Interstate 1, is that right?" he asked.  The guard looked up
from his clipboard.

"North on I-1 and then head West on 1.  That'll take you into
Saskatchewan," he told them.  Meggie clapped her hands.

"Sing Mama!" she shrieked happily.  The guard grinned and handed the
driver's license and registration back through the window.

"You have a nice trip," he said.  "Welcome to Canada."  Bill handed
the identification cards over to Tara and she slipped them into her
bag.

"Thank you," she called in a sunny voice and waved as Bill pulled
the truck past the guard shack.  Bill rolled up his window and Tara
made a display of singing with Meggie as they drove out of sight.

Bill heaved a heavy sigh when they put at least half a mile between
them and the border crossing.  "Give us a few miles," he called to
the hidden passengers,  "and then we'll find someplace to pull over."

The miles rolled by quickly and Bill pulled over into a copse of
trees.  He and Tara scrambled out of the truck and were lifting the
back door when they heard Mulder muttering.

"That had better be your hand, Scully," he said in a dire voice.
Tara's eyes widened and Bill snorted as he shifted boxes and gave
Skinner a hand in climbing out of the back of the truck.  Scully
squirmed out of her hiding place and she popped up over the seat to
find Mulder sprawled on the floor.  His hair was disheveled and his
face was damp with perspiration.

"You look like a man who's been done but good, Mulder... and my
hands were in front of me the whole time," she told him innocently.
Mulder huffed out a tired laugh and looked toward Skinner, noting the
pinkened tips of his ears.

"I think you owe me dinner and some sort of verbal commitment...
Sir," he drawled, laughing when the big man stalked off, flushed and
spluttering incoherently.  Scully fell back against the seat and
giggled herself silly while Bill and Tara leaned into each other and
snickered.  Mulder wiped the sweat from his face and commented into
the general vicinity, "Too bad I don't smoke anymore..."

The three adult Scullys howled.


********

"Mulder."

"Hmmm..."  Mulder was pouring over a map of Saskatchewan, running
the mileage numbers and trying to decide if they could make it to
Regina before it got too late; Bill's voice broke into his
calculating and he turned in the passenger seat and regarded Scully's
big brother, driving with both hands gripping the wheel.  Bill
looked... uncomfortable, would be the correct word.  He cleared his
throat twice, then his eyes left the road and he glanced over at
Mulder.

"I, um... I just... oh, hell!"  Bill blew out a frustrated breath.
"I didn't thank you for saving Matty... for protecting him.  You
could have died, Mulder.  Jesus, you didn't even hesitate.  And when
I saw those goddamn bees, I froze - all I could see was Charlie."
Bill swallowed convulsively and plunged on, as Mulder turned fully in
his seat and regarded him solemnly.

"I owe you my son's life.  And mine too, and Tara's and Meggie's.
Just wanted you to know... I'm glad you're here.  Glad you've got the
courage and the balls to do what has to be done to survive."  Bill
fell silent and frowned fiercely at the road ahead, as if he'd said
too much.  His words surprised the hell out of Mulder, who'd figured
that his presence was mostly tolerated by Bill even though they'd
more or less made a shaky sort of peace between them.  Mulder
carefully folded the map and set it aside, then spoke quietly.

"Bill, there was never any question where Matty was concerned.  I
did what anyone would do.  What you would do if you were placed in
that position.  I love the little guy - I'm his Uncle Mulder,
remember?  And somewhere in that split-second before those bees
attacked I thought about being immune, and of course since Matty
wasn't..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged, trying to make
light of it.  But Bill wasn't having any of it and his skepticism
shone in his voice.

"Oh bullshit, Mulder.  The last thing on your mind would have been
immunities.  Don't even try passing this off as everyday tasking - I
don't buy it.  You protected my son from certain death - a horrible
death.  With no thought for your own safety - and for that I will
always be grateful. I've seen you fight for us, all of us - I've seen
the love you have for Dana.  And I used to waste a shitload of energy
hating your guts - I think I told you that once before."  Without
taking his eyes from the road Bill held up his right hand, and
extended it toward Mulder, who slowly grasped it with his right hand.
The two men clasped hands tightly, silently - until Mulder knew if he
didn't say something to break the emotion-laden moment he'd probably
start blubbering, and Bill Scully would never let him live it down.

He dropped Bill's hand and batted his eyelashes outrageously at the
elder Scully, murmuring wickedly, "Keep it up and I'll be asking you
to walk down the aisle with me instead of having you walk your sister
down to join me..."  The import of the words took exactly ten seconds
to soak into Bill's consciousness, but when it did he cracked a rare
smile, and this time he shook Mulder's hand with delight.

"You're proposing to Dana?  When?  Jesus... that's great news!"
Mulder shushed him quietly when his normally low voice threatened to
rise in accordance with his enthusiasm.  Scully, Tara and the
children were asleep in the furthest back seat but both women had
super-hearing when they wanted it.  Mulder grinned at his possibly
future brother-in-law as he confided his plans.

"In about an hour or so, when we stop for food.  Looking at the map,
I figure we'll be in Whitehorse in another three or four days.  I
remember it's a decent-sized city.  It should be easy to find
somebody to marry us.  Of course, I'm assuming a hell of a lot - and
maybe somebody as wonderful as Scully deserves a hell of a lot better
than me."  Mulder's voice held a tinge of self-derision as he spoke.
He WAS assuming a hell of a lot.  But after their recent close call
he didn't want to wait until they reached their destination.  He
wanted to marry Dana Scully; the sooner the better.  He saw no real
reason to wait.  Some of his anxiety must have shown on his face,
because Bill was quick to reassure him.

"Mulder, my sister loves you.  I have never seen her so protective
toward any other man.  She has regularly told me to go to hell when
I've given her a rash of shit over her involvement and partnership
with you - and when it's all said and done I have to trust her
judgment of you because I've now seen it with my own eyes.  You'll
make her happy - you already do.  Just don't make me wear a tux,
okay?"  Bill's voice was long-suffering at the last remark, and
Mulder chuckled in relief, then jumped about a foot when the sleepy
yet gruff voice in the seat behind him added his two cents' worth.

"I second that, Mulder.  No tux.  As your former AD - and best man -
I forbid the wearing of monkey suits."

Mulder's reply was joking and light-hearted - and grateful... good
feelings to have, after what they'd been through in the past few days
- very good feelings.  "I'll remember that... Sir."

An exaggerated sigh from the back seat, and a growled retort, made
him grin.  "That's 'Sir Walter' to you, Smart Ass..."


About a third of the way to Regina they stopped at a small roadside
diner next to an equally-small gas station.  Outside the look of the
place left much to be desired, but the interior was clean and bright
and reassuringly normal.  A smiling waitress led them to a large
table and offered a booster seat for Matty and a high chair for
Meggie. She settled them into their seats and left them with menus,
promising to return with their water.  Matty bounced up and down on
his booster seat and chanted gleefully, "Hambugger!  Hambugger!"
Mulder shook his head and tousled the child's hair with a gentle hand.

"Sorry, Slugger - no hamburger.  Maybe toasted cheese - is that okay
with you?"  Matty thought for a moment, before nodding.

"Fench Fies, too?"  Mulder smiled, relieved the boy would not fight
them on the lack of meat.  He appeased Matty with a tentative
affirmation; he'd ask the waitress what kind of cooking grease they
used, before ordering fries.  Tara sighed as she closed the menu,
already knowing what she'd have to order.

"Salad for me, Bill - for you as well."  Bill shook his head,
staring down at the menu in his hands.

"I can't eat just salad - my stomach will be torn up for days.
There has to be something else on the menu that doesn't contain meat
or corn-related shit."  Scully flipped through the little menu and
her eye caught on lunch item - and her grin was evil as she looked at
her big brother.

"Hey, Bill... you could always have a bowl of vegetarian chili - you
know, a healthy side of beans with your salad..."  Bill groaned and
made a foul face at his sister at the mention of beans, which he
secretly adored but that also tended to do a number on his digestive
system.  His retort was issued in a mock-growl.

"Oh, great - I'll be farting my way north to Alaska..."  Matty
giggled and shrieked in delight.

"Daddy farts!  Daddy farts!"  Tara emitted a strangled laugh and
clapped a hand over Matty's mouth, while Skinner and Mulder roared
with mirth.  Scully eyed her brother with amused resignation.

"Oh yes... the male Scully gastro-intestinal proclivity... I
remember it well, God help us all.  Maybe we should shop for gas
masks before we get back on the road."  Bill fought to keep the
injured look on his face, but he couldn't hold it, and he chuckled at
his own expense.

"That one talent was bonding fodder for Dad, Charlie and me... we
used to hold contests in the basement.  We'd eat Mom's Cajin-style
chili, always loaded with four different kinds of beans - and then
head down to the basement and engage in some serious ass-singing.
Dad usually won."  The matter-of-fact explanation had them all
laughing anew - and Mulder could tell it had afforded Scully some
poignant memories of the two men in her life that she'd lost. He
reached out a hand and slipped it under her soft hair, rubbing at her
neck; she flashed him a grateful, loving glance before commenting in
a deadpan monotone.

"Well, that explains why the rumpus room always smelled like rotten
eggs..."

They were still laughing when the waitress came to take their orders
- and if she thought it odd that four healthy adults ordered small,
simple salads and a little boy seemed content with toasted cheese...
she never said a word.  When the big, dark-haired man with the
military posture ordered a huge bowl of vegetarian chili, and the
entire table including the little boy all erupted into gales of
laughter... she merely smiled and took their orders and walked away,
shaking her head at the crazy Americans.

An hour later Scully looked at her watch and remarked, "We should
really get on the road.  It'll get dark earlier, now that we're this
far north."  Tara nodded and began to gather up the children; Skinner
offering to take Meggie who had fallen asleep in the high chair.
Mulder stood, catching the glint in Bill's eyes as he stepped around
his chair, closer to Scully.  He could feel the tension start to
build; his stomach was churning with butterflies.  He was about to
ask the woman he loved to marry him, in front of her family and their
dearest friend.  If she refused him, he didn't know what he'd do.  If
she said 'yes'... he'd be forever grateful and spend eternity making
her happy, and safe.  He placed a warm, mostly steady hand on her
shoulder and stayed her movement when she would have risen as well.

"Wait, Scully.  There's one more thing we need to discuss before we
leave.  It's very important."  She looked up at him and quirked one
eyebrow, waiting for him to speak.  And Mulder found his voice had
gone bye-bye... and his throat was as dried up as a desert.  He
couldn't speak - couldn't function.  Alarmed, Scully watched his
Adam's apple bob and swallow - and she must have thought he was ill
again because she tried to rise once more, and again Mulder's hand
tightened on her shoulder.  When she looked into his eyes Mulder knew
exactly what she was thinking... and judging by the way her eyes
widened and she started to tremble... Mulder figured he must have
spilled the gastro-intestinal producers... more commonly known as
'the beans'.

He never knew if he had spoken out loud or if they were so in tune
with each other that she'd somehow read his thoughts... but Scully
knew.  Her eyes teared up as he dropped gracefully to his knees on
the floor of the dinky little roadside cafe - and his simple words
were heartfelt and shaky and overflowing with the bounty of his love
for her.

"Scully..."

She stared into his eyes, and her voice came out on a one-word
whisper.

"Yes?"

He smiled at her, at the remembrance of saying just these words
before, in their past - a long time ago.  Back then he'd been a
teasing idiot... this time it was never more vital and less teasing.
He reached for her hand and held it in both of his.

"Marry me..."  He watched one tear slip down her cheek and curve
into her chin, then another - and another.  She swallowed and smiled
and her entire face glowed.  She parted her rosy lips to speak.

"Yes."

*******************
end of chapter fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Thirteen ~


Later they would look back on the first days of their journey and
think how easy they'd had it, though at the time it was, in their
opinion - rough.

Five adults and two young children all confined to a fairly large
vehicle cabin, yet not seeming large at all when hours upon boring
hours of sitting still were slogging by.  Meggie was fussy and cried
easily; teething problems, mostly.  Everyone took turns holding her,
distracting her or comforting her.  Oddly enough she was most content
with Skinner... who'd been as flummoxed as her mommy and daddy when
it seemed that no one but the big tough Ex-Marine could make the
dainty little girl happy.  The first time Skinner held her awkwardly
on his lap, Meggie had twisted around in his grip, tears of self-pity
still rolling down her chubby little cheeks - and her hand came into
abrupt and determined contact with his glasses.  Miraculously her
tears had stopped and her gleeful chortles echoed around the interior
of the Ford as she tore them from his surprised face and waved them
about for all to see, a new plaything/trophy to be admired.  Mulder
had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from
laughing out loud.

From then on Meggie would demand to be the center of Skinner's
attention - and after a few shaky lap-holding sessions and a horror-
filled episode with a soiled diaper, Skinner welcomed the little girl
with open arms.  It kept him busy when he wasn't slated to drive, as
all the adults were taking a turn at the wheel - and it left him with
a good excuse to not have the pressure of holding a conversation with
whomever happened to be sharing the seat next to him.  It wasn't that
Skinner didn't care for the social aspects of traveling - far from
it.  These people were rapidly becoming vital to him; they were his
new and final 'family'.  But sometimes it was nice to relate on
nothing more strenuous a level than an eighteen-month old child.
Skinner was falling in love with Meggie Scully, and the feeling was
mutual.

Scully thought it was sweet and tended to get all misty-eyed over
the newly formed connection between her niece and her ex-AD.  That
first long day, she and Tara regularly got sniffly over the sight of
Meggie snuggled on Skinner's lap, tiny fingers playing with his much-
larger ones while he hummed to her in a rich baritone.  Sometimes
Matty could be found in the curve of his arm as well, a tiny bit
jealous of the attention his baby sister was getting even though the
sheer size of Skinner still intimidated him.  Not so with Mulder,
however... whom Matty promptly adopted the moment he realized that
Mulder could roll his tongue.

Mulder had been at his wits' end by the end of the first day,
sitting in the front passenger seat while Bill drove.  Tara and
Scully were asleep in the back and Skinner was in the far back seat
bonding with Meggie as usual. How in hell he was going to keep this
enchanting yet wildly energetic child busy?  Matty sat on Mulder's
lap and bounced up and down all over his poor knees; the kid was tall
for his age and built like his daddy.  Mulder had run out of goofy
things to say, snatches of equally-goofy songs, and recitations of
remembered rhymes and such - and when Matty rubbed his little bottom
on Mulder's kneecaps for about the fifth time, Mulder decided
something had to be done to distract the excited child.

"Hey, Matty - watch this!"  The little boy eagerly turned around on
Mulder's lap, rubbing his left knee again.  Mulder gritted his teeth
into a semblance of a smile and frantically tried to think of
something he could do that he hadn't already done, in the name of kid-
entertainment.  Then he remembered one of his odder abilities, and
opened his mouth and rolled his tongue.  Matty was fascinated and
impressed, especially when several attempts to mimic Mulder revealed
he could not roll his tongue at all.

The next half hour was spent with Matty cuddled in Mulder's arms,
giggling every time Mulder rolled his tongue and performed any number
of silly acts with it, from trying to talk through the little circle
of flesh, to attempting to touch his nose with it rolled up.  After a
while Mulder found himself laughing so hard he couldn't make his
tongue cooperate any longer, but that was fine - because by then
Matty had fallen asleep with his little cheek pressed onto Mulder's
neck.  Over the child's unruly curls Bill's eyes met Mulder's, and he
smiled.

"You'd make a good father, Mulder... and somehow that doesn't
surprise me nearly as much as I thought it would.  You want kids
someday?"  As soon as the words left Bill's mouth his face fell, no
doubt remembering that his sister couldn't have children, and also
realizing that Scully's children were the only ones Mulder could ever
want.  He opened his mouth to apologize, but Mulder waved it away
with a tired smile.

"Hey, don't even worry about it.  S'okay, really.  Yeah, I'd like
children someday.  So would Scully, very much.  And we haven't
exactly talked about it lately, what with alien colonization waltzing
through the known world." His grin was infectious and Bill responded
with a relieved one of his own as Mulder continued. "But I am
thinking that somewhere around here, where we're headed, there may be
children needing a mommy and a daddy.  Maybe several sets of both.  I
figure Scully and I will have our chance to be parents, one way or
another."

He smiled again and laid his cheek against Matty's soft hair and the
child sighed in his sleep and snuggled closer.  Mulder tightened his
arms around Matty and settled himself a bit more comfortably in the
seat.  He glanced into the rear view mirror he got an eyeful of two
very sweet sights... the dual teary-eyed smiles of Tara and Scully,
who'd caught most of the conversation and were suitably blubbery over
it - and Skinner in the far back seat asleep with his head leaning
back on the head rest and Meggie's little face nestled in his neck.
Mulder turned in his seat and air-kissed both Scully and Tara, who
sighed and cried harder - then he faced front again and stared idly
out the window, thinking about nothing more strenuous than the
strange satisfaction of being fully accepted by Bill Scully.

He found that he liked it.

**************

Seventy five miles north of Indianapolis they stopped for the night.
It had been Skinner's hope to travel further but the kids were
impossible to manage any longer and Tara was at her wit's end trying
to find a way to keep them calm and happy.  Mulder had wanted to
drive through the night but as inexperienced as he was with children
he could still see that Matty and Meggie were overtired and under-
exercised.

It was very late and they were miles away from an exit with motels,
so it was decided to just sleep in the car; they'd found a well-lit
rest stop with full bathroom facilities.  With both front bucket
seats fully reclined and the far back seat also reclining, it worked
out better than expected.  Mulder and Scully volunteered to sleep in
the front seats and Skinner offered to take both children with him in
the middle seat, affording Bill and Tara much-needed room to stretch
out in the reclining rear seat.

They took the kids for a long walk, keeping on the access road in
front of the bathroom where it was bright as day.  Mulder and Skinner
ran Matty ragged with a Nerf football while Scully and Tara walked a
giggling Meggie between them and Bill stood guard watching for bees.
As late at night as it was the chances of bee activity was thankfully
slim.

In a quiet, reassuring voice Mulder had explained to Bill and Tara
about the problems they would have with eating meat and foods
containing corn and corn by-products.  Tara had been understandably
confused and Bill had looked worried as Mulder told them of the email
he'd received from their unknown 'friend'.

"The contact that arranged your IDs - he warned me about the dangers
of eating any sort of meat, and anything processed with corn.  I'm
afraid meat is out - all meat.  Probably because almost all meat is
grain-fed... or corn-fed. We'll have to be very, very careful."  Bill
frowned at Mulder and Scully.

"I don't understand.  Corn?  I thought the threat came just from
infection from the bees."  Tara nodded in agreement, and Scully
hastened to explain.

"The bees are the main source of infection.  But the corn crops were
intended to be a way to mass-spread the virus - Mulder and I could
never quite figure out how.  We are still not a hundred percent sure,
but what we decided was based on the warning we got from Mulder's
contact.  If the corn has been processed for use, either as food for
livestock or into various foodstuffs demanding corn - or corn oil -
then we must assume eating these products will infect us. And we
can't be sure that standard food processing using heat will kill the
virus living in these foodstuffs.  Therefore we avoid meat and
anything corn-related."  Bill sighed and nodded, then squeezed Tara's
hand.

"Well, luckily I can live without meat; looks like we don't have
much of a choice.  I think we'll be fine and I doubt we'll starve."
Tara nodded and some of the worry eased from her face as she leaned
into her husband's embrace and let him cuddle her.  Mulder nodded and
swung Matty into his arms, tossing the sturdy little boy into the air
and delighting in the shrieks of childish glee as he was alternately
tossed and tickled.  It helped them all to forget their troubles for
a little bit, and pretend they were on nothing more complicated than
just another camping trip.

Later, they ate apples, cheese and crackers for dinner.  They drank
a lot of water, used the rest rooms and prepared to settle in for
the night. Locking the doors behind them... adjusting seats and
pulling out blankets, finding articles of clothing to use
as makeshift pillows - it didn't take them long to get the kids to
sleep, one child nestled in each of Skinner's strong arms.  Within
minutes both yawning children had conked out and Skinner wasn't far
behind them, growling out a rusty goodnight and rocking the cab a bit
as he adjusted himself and the children on the wide seat.

In the front, Mulder reclined in the drivers' seat and glanced over
at Scully as she struggled to bunch up one of his sweaters into an
acceptable pillow.  In the combined moonlight and security lights her
tired face was just visible enough for him to see the yawn she
stifled with the back of her hand as she finally got the sweater
wedged comfortably under her head.  She caught him staring at her and
reached out a hand to run lightly over his face.

"Whatcha thinking about, Mulder?"  He smiled against her fingers and
his voice was a mere whisper of low sound in the quiet cab.

"How gorgeous you are."  She snorted softly and tweaked his nose
playfully.

"Oh, yeah, Mulder - I'm a raving beauty queen.  Not a lick of makeup
to be found on my face, red-rimmed eyes, I'd bet - wrinkled and baggy
clothes with kid-finger-shaped grub stains all over them... my
deodorant quit sometime around Cincinnati and what hair on my head
that isn't sticking straight up is a tangled, matted mess.  I'm so
lovely to behold it's sickening."  Her deprecating remarks brought a
tender smile to Mulder's lips as he gazed at the love of his life and
wished like hell they were alone so he could show her just how
delectable she really was.  He settled for placing his hand in a warm
cup over the buttoned fly of her jeans, and letting the feeling flow
through him from his heart to his fingertips.  Scully squirmed a bit
under his touch and her eyes glittered in the moonlight as she turned
to face him, careful not to disturb his hand.  Her voice puffed out
in a little sigh.

"Mmm, that feels so good.  I miss your hands, Mulder.  I think about
them - and I think about your mouth.  I miss your mouth, too..." Her
voice trailed off at his harsh intake of breath as Mulder soaked in
her tender words.

"God, Scully..." His whisper was almost non-existent in the silent
cab but the words vibrated between them.  "I want you so badly I'm
going crazy over here.  I'm not gonna be able to get any sleep at all
tonight with you so near and me unable to do anything about it..."
His fingers stroked restlessly over her denim-covered center, toying
with the metal buttons; managing to get one unfastened before her
hands pressed into him and stilled his hands, her voice squeaking out
in a hushed echo of shock.

"Mulder, we can't!  Not here, Jesus... I want to, so much... but we
can't!"  Mulder grinned at the panicked tone, thinking he'd like
nothing better than to quietly drive her out of her mind - deciding
to do just that.  Scully was so tired - overtired, in fact.  She
needed some sort of release - and there had to be a silent way to do
it.  And at that moment his needs were ignored completely as he set
about a bit of noiseless seduction.  He leaned into Scully's seat
space and kissed her mouth hungrily, keeping his hand pressed down
into her and beginning to work the rest of her buttons.

Scully moaned soundlessly into his mouth, giving up all hope of
stopping him.  Her tongue swirled around his in a fury of need as
Mulder upped the urgency of the kiss and his fingers unbuttoned the
rest of her, then slid inside and dipped underneath the lacy edge of
elastic.  Finding her damp heat with unerring fingers... curling an
index digit within the soft flesh and swallowing the gasp she sent
down along his tonsils.  Mulder kept his mouth locked to hers as he
gently probed and stroked, building the embers slowly and carefully
as she shivered against him and hung onto his shoulders.  One final
hard press of his finger against her swollen clit and Scully
shuddered and bit his lip hard as she climaxed; Mulder held her and
kissed every shiver and every moan, until she was limp in his arms
and her breathing returned to normal.  She lay her head against the
seat and stared up into his face with damp eyes.  Her shaky voice was
a thread of sound between them.

"Oh, God, Mulder... I can't find the words..."  He kissed her soft
lips and smiled at her tenderly when he pulled back to look into her
beautiful face.

"Shhh... it's okay, Scully.  I know how you feel.  I'm glad you
liked it... glad I could make you feel good, baby.  Do you think you
can sleep now?"  She nodded and yawned, leaning back fully in her
seat.

"Mmm, yes... I'll sleep wonderfully.  But what about you?  Mulder...
I can't leave you in this condition..." Her hand slid over him
gently, probing along his aching ridged flesh underneath the fly of
his jeans.  Mulder pressed her hand hard into his erection and
stifled a groan at the exquisite feeling.  He shook his head
regretfully when she would have unbuttoned him.

"No, baby - can't.  Too messy.  You know we can't... and I'll be all
right, I promise.  Rain check, 'kay?  You'll owe me.  Just keep your
hand there - feels good.  Just hold me tonight - just like that."
And she nodded and reached over to kiss him goodnight and she turned
toward him in her seat and kept a hand over him, fingers gripping him
along his hard length.  Warmed by her hand and the soft breaths she
released into the small curve of air between them as she dozed off,
Mulder finally followed suit - and slept.

************

They spent another mind-numbing and ass-numbing day in the truck.
The first day had taught them that asking the children to cope with
more than ten hours a day on the road was more than could rationally
be expected of them.  They were six hours into the second day of the
trip and were traveling down a section of highway that wound past a
suburb of Chicago when Skinner flipped on the turn signal, pulling
into the exit lane.  Scully had been dozing in the passenger seat and
she lifted her head to look questioningly at her ex-boss.

"Do we need gas?" she asked, stifling a yawn behind her hand and
glancing at the gas gauge.  Skinner shook his head.

"No. I saw a sign for a shopping mall about three miles from this
exit," he told her.  "We need to get out of the truck for a little
while and stretch our legs.  But I don't want to be outdoors for any
length of time," he said significantly.  "Besides, I'm already sick
of fruit and cheese and granola bars," he chuffed.  "Does anyone else
want a pizza?" he asked, looking up into the rearview mirror.

"Pizza," Bill moaned.  "Yes.  Let's definitely stop for pizza."

Mulder's eyes rounded with interest at the mention of pizza, but he
looked worriedly at the map spread out over his lap.  Scully turned
in her seat and called for his attention.

"We'll still make it to the Canadian border on Thursday," she told
him.  "But I think it would do us all some good to get out of the
truck for a little while."  Mulder nodded and folded the map.
Leaning close to Meggie, he touched the tip of his finger to her tiny
nose.

"Whaddya think Meggie - do you want some pizza?" he asked playfully.

"Peetz!" the baby shouted, clapping her hands.  Mulder looked up at
the others and smiled.

"I guess we're stopping for pizza," he told them.

They spent two hours in the mall eating pizza and stretching their
legs.  They used the bathrooms and let the kids run around a bit.
With their bellies full, both children were drooping and had to be
carried back to the truck.  The children slept heavily for almost two
hours and they pressed on, driving another four hours before they
stopped for the night.  No one was anxious to repeat the night spent
sleeping in the truck and they stopped at a motel.  The place was
clean looking but small and they were only able to get two rooms for
the night.  Skinner shared a room with Mulder and Scully.  Some part
of Scully knew she should be uncomfortable sharing a room with her ex-
boss but she was too tired to care.  Stepping out of the bathroom
modestly clad in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, she climbed into
bed.  In the dark she pressed a chaste kiss to Mulder's lips before
curling up and promptly falling asleep.

********

"What's taking so long?" Skinner asked early the next evening,
tapping the steering wheel impatiently.  Tara laughed.

"Everything takes twice as long as it should where Matthew is
involved.  Haven't you learned that yet?"  She looked out of the
window.  "Here they come now."

Scully glanced idly out of the window watching Mulder and Matthew
walking across the grass.  They had made an emergency stop at a small
picnic area along Rte. 94 approximately forty miles outside of Fargo
when Matty announced that he 'had to gooooo!'.  Mulder was holding
Matty's hand and was trying to herd him back to the truck as the
little boy danced around him.  Scully smiled fondly as Mulder bent at
the waist to bring his eyes level with the child's.  He said
something to Matty and Scully saw his teeth flash in a wide grin.

She frowned when Mulder's head jerked up.  Suddenly, he pushed
Matthew onto the grass and threw himself on top of the boy.  And
that's when Scully and the others saw it.  Bees - at least twenty-
five of them - swarming around Mulder and Matty.

"Matthew!" Tara screamed as she reached for the door handle.  Scully
grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Tara, don't!" she cried.  Tara's head whipped around.

"That's Matty," she shrieked, pointing toward the window.  "And
Mulder!  Jesus, Dana, maybe you can sit there and do nothing, but I
have to get to my baby!"

Scully flinched at Tara's harsh words but continued to hold fast to
the other woman's arm.

"Tara, we can't."  She inclined her head toward the back of the
truck.  "Meggie," she reminded her.  Tara's eyes closed in defeat and
Scully loosened her grip, turning to Skinner who was staring out the
window in horror, his big hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Walter, let's try to get as close to them as possible," she said in
a low, urgent voice.  Skinner nodded and started the engine, driving
the big vehicle over the curb and up onto the grass, pulling as close
to Mulder and Matty as he could.  Scully's mind raced as she tried to
figure out the best way to pull Mulder and Matthew into the truck
without allowing the bees in as well.

"Bill," she called.  Her brother rose from the back seat where he
had been holding a squalling Meggie.  He buckled the baby into her
car seat.

"Tara," Scully turned toward her sister-in-law.  "Get behind the
wheel," she said.  "As soon as we pull them into the truck, you get
us the hell out of here!"

Tara nodded jerkily and crawled into the driver's seat that Skinner
had just vacated.  She wrapped white-knuckled fingers around the
steering wheel.  The two men crouched near the passenger door with
Scully.

"What's the plan?" Bill asked.  Scully shook her head.

"I don't know."  She firmly tamped down on the panic that threatened
to overwhelm her.  "Whatever we do, we need to do it fast."  She
looked around the truck.  "Bill, grab two of the blankets from the
back," she instructed.  Scully looked up at the two men.  "What if we
drape one blanket over the open door?  Mulder can climb up under the
blanket and hopefully, the bees won't be fast enough to follow him."

Skinner and Bill looked at each other and shrugged.

"I can't think of a better idea," Skinner admitted and Bill handed
the blankets up to them, scrambling back into place.  Scully grabbed
the end of one blanket and set the other one by her feet.

"Walter and I will hold the blanket in place," she said.  "Bill,
when Mulder starts to climb up, you pull them in."  Bill nodded and
wiped his sweating palms along the sides of his jeans.  Skinner took
the other end of the blanket and nodded to Scully.  She reached
behind the blanket and threw the door open.

"Mulder!" she called, kicking the second blanket out of the truck.
"Hurry!"

Mulder cautiously eased his body off Matthew's and grabbed for the
blanket lying on the grass near him, throwing it over the frightened
child.  Bundling him into its protective folds, he pushed the little
boy under the blanket covering the open door.  As soon as he felt
Matty being pulled safely into the truck, he scrambled in behind
him.

Tara was pulling away, tires squealing even as Scully was pulling
the door shut.  Skinner checked the interior of the truck to be sure
that none of the bees had slipped under the blanket, while Scully and
Bill frantically checked Mulder and Matty for stings.

"Were you stung?  Matty?  Tell Daddy, did a bee sting you?"  Bill
asked as he pulled the boy's clothes aside, looking for any sign that
he had been stung.  Scully was frantically doing the same to Mulder
and her eyes met his fearfully.

"Oh God," she breathed.  "Mulder..."  Her fingers swept gently over
his right arm.

"Don't touch them, Scully!" he cried as he jerked his arm out of her
grasp.  Everyone looked at Mulder in alarm as he reached for one of
several stingers still embedded in his flesh.

"Stop!"  Scully grabbed his wrist in her hand.  Mulder looked up at
her fierce tone.  "Stop," she said again, softer this time.  "Don't
pull at the stinger," she told him.  "It holds the venom and you'll
re-sting yourself." She snatched up a paper cup and used the plastic
lid to gently scrape the stinger out of Mulder's skin.  Cracking open
the window, she flung it out of the truck.

She turned back and reached for him again.  "How do you feel,
Mulder?" she asked.  "Any chest pains or trouble breathing?"  She
tried to remember the symptoms she had experienced after her own
encounter with an infected bee.

"Maybe it wasn't an infected swarm?" Tara asked, glancing into the
rearview mirror with frightened eyes.  Mulder looked up at Scully and
shook his head.

"Guess we're going to find out whether or not I'm immune, huh?" he
said wryly.  Scully grimaced.  Again her mind raced as she tried to
figure out what their next step should be.  "Mulder, I need you to
tell me how you're feeling," she said.

"I have a little bit of a headache," he admitted.  "And I feel hot
and achy like I have the flu."  Scully looked up.

"Tara, I saw a sign for a motel a little while ago," she said.  "It
should be about three or four more miles up the road.  Tara pressed
down on the accelerator.  Skinner and Bill turned to Scully.

"What are you planning to do?" Bill asked.  Scully pulled Mulder's
cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her brother.

"Mulder and I are going to get out at the next motel and get a room.
We'll wait and see if the symptoms get worse," she said with a break
in her voice.  "I want the rest of you to drive a few more miles and
find someplace to stay for the night.  Keep in touch with us.  We
should know by morning."

Bill protested.  "Do you plan to spend the night alone with him?" he
asked incredulously.  "What if Mulder is infected?  You're putting
your own life at risk!"

Mulder lifted feverish eyes to hers.  "Scully," he said, "You
can't... I won't let you."  Scully looked at him and then back up to
her brother.

"Would you leave Tara alone?" she demanded fiercely.  She swung her
gaze back to Mulder's.  "Would you leave me?"  She lifted her head
and her pleading eyes met Tara's in the rearview mirror.  "Hurry,"
she urged.

Tara nodded grimly.  Ten minutes later the tires crunched over the
graveled parking lot of the motel as Tara pulled the car up to the
office.  The parking lot was nearly deserted and Scully leapt out of
the truck to pay for a room.  Hurrying back to the car, she directed
Tara to drive to the far end of the lot and stop in front of the last
room.  She climbed into the back of the truck and grabbed several
bottles of water and a large plastic box that contained most of the
medical supplies they had purchased in Bethesda.  Skinner helped
Mulder out of the truck as Scully opened the door to their room.  She
propped her shoulder under Mulder's arm.

"We'll keep in touch," she promised her ex-boss.  "Call and let us
know where you'll be staying."

Skinner nodded and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed
behind him, a worried frown on his face.  Scully eased Mulder down
onto one of the beds and pulled his T-shirt over his head.  She
flicked open the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down,
helping him to breathe a little easier.  She grabbed an ice bucket
from the desk and disappeared into the bathroom.  She returned a
moment later and sat down on the edge of the mattress, placing the
bucket filled with warm, soapy water on the nightstand.  She dipped a
washcloth into the water and gently washed Mulder's arm.  The skin
around the bites was red and swollen.

Mulder sucked in a painful breath as the coarse washcloth abraded
his injured arm.  "I'm sorry," Scully crooned as she dropped the
washcloth into the bucket.  She took the bucket into the bathroom and
dumped the now tepid water down the sink.  "I'll be right back," she
told him as she opened the front door and slipped outside.  The sun
was setting and the night was growing cool as she hurried to fill the
bucket with ice.

Returning to the room, she set the bucket of ice onto the floor and
disappeared into the bathroom again.  She carried a plastic cup into
the bedroom and dug through the medical kit, pulling out a small box
of baking soda.  Mulder watched wearily as she tore open the box and
dumped some of the fine, white powder into the plastic cup.  She
twisted the top off one of the bottles of water and poured a small
amount of water into the cup, using her finger to mix it into a thick
paste.  She set the cup aside and rifled through the medical kit once
again.  She pulled out a bottle of aspirin and fumbled with the
childproof cap.  Finally yanking the cap from the bottle, she
grumbled in frustration as she plunged her thumb through the foil
safety seal and pulled a small wad of cotton free.  She shook two
tablets into her hand and then reached for a small box of Benadryl.
She punched one of the over-the-counter antihistamine tablets out of
the foil packet and scooped up the bottle of water.  Scully handed
Mulder the three pills and helped him sit up, holding the bottle to
his mouth.

"The aspirin is for your headache," she told him.  "The
antihistamine helps in the event of an allergic reaction to the
stings," she said, knowing that she had nothing in her medical kit to
save him if the virus took hold.  Easing him back against the
pillows, she picked up the plastic cup she had set aside earlier and
smeared the paste over the bee stings.

"What are you doing?" Mulder wheezed.

"This won't help if you're infected," she told him honestly, "but I
remember my mother used this whenever we were stung by an insect.  It
helps take the sting and the itchiness out."

"Good thing you pack baking soda in your medical kits, Doctor," he
rasped.  "Weird, but good."  Scully concentrated on spreading the
thick paste liberally over the affected area and shrugged.

"It's just one of those things my mother always packed along with
the Bactine."

Mulder's head rolled restlessly against the pillows and Scully laid
her hand across his forehead.  "You have a fever," she said
worriedly.  Once more digging through the box, she pulled out a
digital thermometer and placed the plastic tip into his ear.  Seconds
later, she pulled the thermometer away from him and turned it so that
she could read the digital display.

"102 degrees," she announced.  Less than an hour had passed since he
had been stung.  She put her hands on his cheeks and used her thumbs
to life his eyelids.  "No sign of the oil."  Her wobbly smile was
meant to be reassuring.  She stood and Mulder grasped her hand in his
own, pulling her back down onto the mattress.

"Scully," he said as he forced his eyes open to meet hers.  "If I'm
infected... you know what you have to do," he told her solemnly.  She
recoiled and tried to pull her hand away.

"No!" Her face was tortured.  Mulder pulled her back, pressing her
head down onto his chest.  His fingers sifted through her hair and
his heart ached.  He was afraid that it was too much, too soon after
Charlie to ask this of her, but if he was infected...

"It may be the only choice we have, Scully," he told her softly.
"We don't have a vaccine this time."  She lifted her head from his
chest.

"No!" she said again.  "You aren't displaying any of the symptoms
that I did when I was infected and you aren't showing any of the
symptoms that we've seen with the other victims.  I think you might
be immune to this now, but Mulder - you have to believe.  You have to
try!  Please promise me."

Mulder stroked his thumb over her cheek.  "I don't want to leave
you," he told her.  "I won't give up easily.  I promise.  But you
have to promise me - that if we're wrong, you'll do what has to be
done.  Scully... if I'm infected... we can't allow it to live."

Scully nodded and avoided his eyes.  "Okay, but I don't want to talk
about this any more," she said in an attempt to placate him.  Mulder
held onto her and forced her to meet his eyes.  Scully sighed,
knowing he wouldn't rest until he had extracted a promise from her.
"I promise, Mulder," she vowed, her eyes tearing up.

He blew out a breath and smiled gently.  Scully dashed the wetness
from her eyes impatiently and laid her hand back over his forehead.
"Tell me how you feel," she demanded softly.  Mulder rubbed his
forehead against her cool palm.

"Tired.  Achy.  Like I have the flu," he said.  "I'm hot," he said
fretfully.  Scully stood and took the ice bucket into the bathroom.
She dumped out most of the ice and filled the bucket with cool water.
She grabbed another washcloth and returned to the bedroom.  Setting
the bucket onto the nightstand, she dipped both washcloths into the
water.  Wringing out one cloth, she folded it lengthwise and laid it
across Mulder's aching brow.

"Better?" she asked.  He nodded and closed his eyes.  Scully
squeezed out the second cloth and began to run it over his chest and
down his arms.  She laid it across his stomach and tugged his jeans
off, draping them across the foot of the bed.  She dipped the cloth
back into the water and ran the cool cloth over his belly, lifting
his head from the pillow and wiping the back of his hot neck.

She repeated the process over and over again for the next hour or
two, dumping the water out of the bucket when it became tepid and
refilling it with cool.  She bathed his feverish body and forced
aspirin down his throat throughout the night as he tossed and turned
in a fitful sleep.  In the middle of the night Mulder abruptly sat up.

"I feel sick," he said hoarsely and Scully helped him out of bed.
He leaned on her heavily as she guided him into the bathroom.  He
collapsed onto the floor and she sank down onto her knees next to
him, holding him as he vomited into the toilet.  Scully's stomach
clenched in a painful knot as she saw him expel long strands of a
black, oily substance from his nostrils, heaving it from his stomach.
She whispered soothing nonsense to him as his body shuddered and
convulsed, fighting to expel the alien invader.  After what felt like
hours, he sank weakly against the rim of the toilet.  Scully pulled
him back and he slumped against the bathtub in exhaustion.  Scully
handed him a wad of toilet paper and he mopped his mouth and blew his
nose, tossing the paper into the bowl.

Scully slammed down the lid of the toilet and hesitated as she
reached out to flush it.  Terrified to introduce the virus into the
municipal sewer system and equally terrified not to get rid of it,
she raced out of the bathroom, returning moments later with the box
of baking soda, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a pack of matches and a
fire extinguisher.  Setting everything down on the floor, she turned
her attention back to Mulder for a moment.  Soaking a towel in hot
water, she tenderly wiped his face.  Pulling him to his feet, she
mixed a small amount of the baking soda in a glass of water and
handed it to him.  "Rinse your mouth out with this," she told him.
When he was finished, she twisted the cap off of the tiny bottle of
mouthwash provided by the motel and gave it to him.

"Now use this," she instructed.  He tilted his head and poured half
of the contents of the bottle into his mouth, swishing the liquid
around furiously.  He spat into the sink and she nudged the bottle
back up to his lips.  "Use all of it," she told him.

Mulder eyed the items she had brought into the bathroom and looked
at her with reddened eyes.  "What are you going to do?" he asked.
Scully glanced toward the toilet.

"Burn it?" she said, a question in her voice.  Mulder considered
their options and nodded.

"I can't think of a better idea," he agreed.  Scully grabbed his arm
and steered him back into the bedroom.

"I want to help," he protested.  Scully shook her head.

"And, I want you as far away from here as possible," she countered.
Mulder opened his mouth to argue further.

"Listen," she said.  "I may have to move really fast and the further
you are from the bathroom, the closer you are to the front door," she
told him reasonably.  Mulder stepped out of the bathroom but
stubbornly stood near the door, watching her.

Scully sighed and turned back to her work.  Using her foot, she
flipped up the lid of the toilet and gingerly leaned over the bowl to
look in.  The long strands of oil were lying still on top of the
water.  She didn't know if they were dead or not and she didn't care
to analyze them too closely.  Cracking the seal on the bottle of
alcohol, she poured a small amount into the bowl.  Picking up the
fire extinguisher, she disengaged the safety switch and set it back
down, keeping it close at hand.  Grabbing the book of matches, she
pulled one off and struck it, touching it to the rest of the matches
in the pack and threw the burning matches into the toilet.  The
alcohol ignited instantly and flames shot up quickly.  Scully reared
back and grabbed the fire extinguisher.  She could feel Mulder
breathing down her back and she slid an exasperated glance over her
shoulder at him.  Turning back, she saw that the flames had subsided
as the alcohol quickly burned off.

As the flames flickered out, she looked into the bowl.  Charred bits
of ash floated on top of the otherwise clear water.  She quickly
flushed the toilet and turned back to Mulder who was leaning weakly
against the doorframe.

"You should be in bed," she admonished him as she led him into the
bedroom.  She looked at the rumpled bed, the sheets damp with
Mulder's sweat and the water she had been bathing him with, and she
pulled back the covers on the other bed, urging him to slip between
the dry sheets.  Mulder rested his head on the cool pillows and
looked up at her.

"Lie down with me," he pleaded and Scully peeled off her jeans,
climbing into the bed with him and laying her head on his chest.  She
rubbed her cheek against his skin and ran her hand down his side,
forcing her body to relax.  A moment later, she popped back up.

"Don't leave," he whispered petulantly.  She twisted on the bed and
reached for the thermometer on the nightstand, placing the plastic
tip into his ear. Mulder groaned.  "Not again.  Scully, you've taken
my temperature a million times tonight."

Scully looked at the digital readout and slumped gratefully.  "Your
fever is down," she told him.  "99 degrees."  Her eyes were bright
with unshed tears.  Mulder grinned tiredly.

"Sleepy," he told her.  Scully leaned back against the pillows and
pulled him into her arms.  He nuzzled his face against her breasts
and she stroked her hands down his back.

"I know you're tired," she murmured against his ear.  "Go to sleep,
Mulder."  She rested her cheek against his hair and turned her face
toward the window, watching for morning and praying that his
condition would continue to improve.  She held him a bit too tightly
for his comfort, she knew - but she'd been so terrified.  If she'd
lost him she would have gone completely mad...

********

Scully hung up the phone and turned around when she heard Mulder
stirring in the bed behind her.  He stretched his arms over his head
and peered at her blearily.

"That was Tara," she told him.  "They found a place to stay about
fifteen miles up the road.  The kids are still asleep."

"How is Matty?" Mulder asked hoarsely.  Scully smiled and sat down
on the edge of the bed.

"Fine.  He wanted to know why were weren't staying at the hotel with
them." She rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch.  "They still
have to get the children up and dressed.  Tara said they should be
back here in about an hour."  She laid her hand across his forehead.
"How do you feel?" she asked.

Mulder stretched again, analyzing each body part as he tightened and
released his muscles.  "Pretty good," he told her.  " A little achy
and I'm still tired but all in all, much better."

Scully held up the thermometer expectantly and he rolled his head to
the side, exposing his ear to her.  A moment later she looked up with
a happy smile.

"Normal," she announced.  Mulder sat up and swung his feet onto the
floor.

"Do I have time for a shower?" he asked.  Scully nodded.

"Sure."

Mulder stood up and swayed, grabbing onto the headboard for support.
Scully wrapped an arm around his waist.  "Maybe you should hold off
on that shower until you're a little steadier on your feet," she
warned.

Mulder looked down into her earnest face.  "Or, you could take one
with me and hold me up," he suggested.  Scully blushed.

"Mulder, you could have died last night.  I don't think you're in
any condition to --"

Mulder interrupted.  "I'm not suggesting hot shower sex," he told
her.  "Come on, Scully.  I really want that shower.  I reek of alien
vomit."  Scully made a disgusted face at the hideous description of
his prior condition and he fought down a grin and looked at her
hopefully.

She sighed, relenting at under his pleading gaze.  A lack of sleep
combined with the overwhelming fear that Mulder would succumb to the
virus had left her exhausted.  The idea of a hot shower was a welcome
one.  "All right," she said.  She took a step away from him, her
hands lingering briefly on his waist until she was sure he was steady
on his feet.  She let go of him and unbuttoned the short-sleeved
denim shirt she was wearing.  Under Mulder's watchful gaze, she
reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, peeling the straps down
her arms, then quickly skimmed her panties down her hips, tossing her
clothing in a heap on the bed.  Naked, she took Mulder by the hand
and led him into the bathroom.

Scully pushed back the shower curtain and leaned over the tub to
turn on the shower.  She glanced over her shoulder, raising her brow
as she took in his boxer-clad form.  Mulder braced a hand on the
countertop surrounding the sink and hurriedly pulled the boxers off.
Scully stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, ducking her
head under the spray.  She held out her hands and helped him step
carefully over the lip of the tub and pulled him under the hot spray
of water with her.

Mulder groaned as the hot water pounded on his aching muscles.  His
groans turned to sighs of pleasure as Scully rolled a miniscule bar
of soap through her fingers, running her slippery hands over him,
washing away the sweat and grime of the fever from his skin.  She
picked up a small bottle of shampoo and poured a tiny amount into her
hand, stretching up to work the lather into his hair.  Mulder's head
dropped forward and she could hear a tiny humming noise coming from
the back of his throat as his body swayed slightly under her
massaging fingers.  She pushed him under the shower to rinse off
while she quickly washed herself.

Reluctant to leave the warmth of the shower, Scully bent down to
turn the tap, sending even more hot water into the spray.  She leaned
against his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as she
wound her arms around his middle.  Mulder's hands slid over hers as
they let the hot, pounding water relax them.  Scully smoothed one
hand over his stomach and she trembled with the knowledge that once
again they had cheated death.  Mulder felt the tremor ripple through
her body and he twisted in her arms, pulling her into his embrace.
He pressed her head against his chest and ran his hands down her
back, cupping her cheeks in his big hands.  Scully clutched him
tightly, listening to the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear,
so thankful to hear it and feel it.  She looked up, blinking against
the spray of the shower and drew his mouth down to hers in a tender
kiss.

Her tongue skimmed over his parted lips before stealing inside his
mouth for a quick taste.  Mulder banded his arms around the backs of
her thighs, pulling her high and hard against him as his mouth nipped
at hers.

"I changed my mind," he gasped against her ear.  "I do want hot
shower sex."  The doctor in Scully was telling her to say no, that it
was too soon, that he had been too sick but the woman in her was
shouting yes.  She wanted to draw Mulder into her body where she
could keep him safe and whole.  She bit her lip and leaned around his
body to turn off the shower.  Yanking back the curtain, she stepped
out of the tub, snatching two towels from the rack and holding one
out to him.  Mulder climbed out of the tub.  Taking the towel from
her outstretched hand, he moved toward her, crowding her against the
sink, trying to lift her onto the countertop, dripping water all over
the floor.  Scully grasped the counter behind her with both hands,
gasping as he cupped her wet breast in his hand.

"Not in here," she whispered.  Using her towel, she quickly ran it
over his body, then led him back into the bedroom.  She stopped next
to one of the beds, pushing on his shoulders, and Mulder sat down,
spreading his legs wide and pulling her between them.  He leaned
forward to nab one rosy nipple between his teeth and Scully shuddered
as his hot mouth closed over the sensitive tip.  She wound her
fingers in his hair and arched her body closer to his.

Mulder let her nipple slip out of his mouth and he pressed his lips
against the soft swell of her belly.  Scully placed both hands on his
chest and pushed him back onto the bed.  He grabbed her hips between
his hands and tried to pull her beneath him but she resisted.
Crawling over him, surrounding him with all four limbs, she lowered
her face to his.  Her hair spilled around them in a coppery curtain
as she caught his lower lip between her teeth.  Reaching down, she
slid her fingers over his quivering flesh, guiding him to her center,
whispering to him softly.  "Let me..."

*********

Twenty minutes later, they heard the Excursion crunching over the
graveled parking lot.  "Ready?" Scully asked, her hand on the
doorknob.  Mulder placed on hand over hers, preventing her from
opening the door and wrapped the other hand around the back of her
neck.

"Don't know when I'm gonna have the chance to do this again so..."
He lowered his head, brushing his mouth softly over hers.  His lips
trailed over her cheek and he scraped his teeth gently across the
soft skin on the underside of her jaw.  "I love you," he breathed.

Scully sighed and burrowed deeper into his embrace, enjoying these
last few moments of privacy.  "I love you too," she murmured.  She
felt his lips curve against her skin and she reluctantly pulled away
from his arms.  "Let's go," she said.  He nodded and she pulled the
door open.

They climbed into the truck and flopped into their seats.  Meggie
banged her tiny fists on the cushioned restraint of her car seat,
babbling happily as she caught sight of Mulder and Scully.  Matthew
leaned forward against his seat belt.

"Aunt Dana.  Why come you and Uncle Mulder didn't sleep with us last
night?" he asked.  Scully laughed.

"Because Uncle Mulder wasn't feeling well last night, Matty," she
explained.  Matthew nodded wisely.

"Cause he gotted stung by the bees?" he wondered.  Scully nodded and
ruffled his hair with her hand.

"That's right.  The bee stings made him very sick," she told the
little boy.  A tiny frown wrinkled Matthew's nose and he peered
closely at Mulder who was sitting on the other side of Scully.

"But you made him all better, right Aunt Dana?" Matty looked up at
her with curious blue eyes.  Mulder leaned across Scully so that his
face was close to Matty's.

"That's right, Buddy.  Your Aunt Dana made me all better," he told
the child.  Matty smiled and placed a smacking kiss on the tip of
Mulder's nose.

"Dat's good!" he announced.  Reassured that all was well, he turned
to more pressing matters.  "Mommy, I'm huuunnngry!"  The adults
groaned and Bill put the truck in gear, pulling out of the parking
lot.

On the road again.

********************
end of chapter thirteen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Twelve ~

"So anyway, I was probably ten years old, which would have made
Charlie seven," Scully said.  "Mom and Dad were out at a party at the
Officers' Club. Bill and Missy were supposed to be home watching us,
but Bill had a hot date and Missy had slipped out to go down the
street to her friend, Becky's house, to watch 'Donnie and Marie' and
do each other's hair."  She made a face and took a sip from the
bottle of beer she was holding.  She was sitting on the floor between
Mulder's legs; her head and back propped up on his chest.  The
children were asleep in the bedroom and the adults were gathered in
the living area of Bill and Tara's small hotel suite, sipping beer
and talking.  Skinner was sprawled out in one of the chairs, sleepily
listening to Scully's story while Bill and Tara were snuggled up on
the sofa.

"Who was the hot date with?" Tara asked, arching a brow at her
husband.  Bill shrugged.

"She's making all of this up," he said loftily.

Scully leaned forward.  "Her name was Cindy Beckman," she said.
"She was very tall and had long, dark hair and big breasts," she
confided throwing a look over her shoulder.  "You would have liked
her," she told Mulder.  He smiled wolfishly and waggled his brows at
her.

Scully sat back, squirming to get comfortable against his hard
chest.  "Where was I?" she asked, propping the bottle on Mulder's
leg. "Oh, right.  So Charlie and I are alone in the house and we're
bored.  Charlie pulls out a football and we start throwing it back
and forth."

"Mom always said don't play ball in the house," Tara intoned
quietly.  Scully laughed and pointed her beer bottle at her sister-in-
law.

"Right!  Well I threw the ball at Charlie but he wasn't paying
attention and it sailed past him, crashing into a bookcase.  One of
Bill's baseball trophies fell off the shelf and it broke into three
pieces.  We both stood there for a second or two and then suddenly
Charlie just freaked out.  He was running around in circles, crying,
'Bill's gonna kill us; he's gonna kill us.'  I grabbed him by the
shoulders and I shook him hard and sent him into the kitchen to get
the glue while I picked the pieces up from the floor.  Charlie
brought the glue back and we very carefully glued the whole thing
back together. Then every morning we would wake up and come
downstairs to make sure the glue was still holding.  After about two
weeks, we forgot all about it.  A month later, Bill was dribbling his
basketball in the living room while he was talking on the phone with
Cindy.  The ball got away from him and hit the same bookcase and down
came the trophy.  Mom took one look at the broken trophy and left the
room.  A minute later she was back with the bottle of glue.  She
handed the bottle to me and said, "Here, Dana.  Why don't you and
Charlie help your brother glue that back together.'"  Scully laughed
again.  "I have no idea how she figured it out, but she knew."

Bill scowled at her.  "I loved that trophy," he muttered into his
beer.

Skinner straightened up in his chair.  "To the Scullys," he said,
lifting his bottle into the air.  Scully smiled and blinked back a
tear as everyone lifted his or her drink in salute.  They drank;
Mulder put down his empty bottle and the hug he bestowed upon Scully
was warm and comforting and exactly what she needed the most.  She
leaned her head back against him and her smile was teary, but filled
with good memories... only good ones.

It was late in the evening when they finally gave in for the need to
sleep; everyone had been having such a good time it was hard to stop.
Their first true bonding together as a new family and no one had
wanted to give it up; it was vital and precious to them. After Tara's
third yawn and Bill's snoring doze on the sofa, however... it was
decided to call it a night.

Scully watched fondly as her brother and sister-in-law helped each
other walk a straight line to the door of the second bedroom in their
suite.  Bill had roused himself just enough to grumble a disparaging
remark over his shoulder about sound-proofing in the walls, before
Tara shushed him with yet another, "Shut up, Bill!"  Skinner had
barked out a laugh and had gathered up all the beer bottles and
thrown them away, before tossing a smile and a goodnight at Mulder
and Scully and letting himself out of the suite to head over to his
own room.

Scully stood and stretched, the thin cotton of her tank top riding
up and affording Mulder a glimpse of soft white skin and little
bellybutton.  He leered at her comically and she huffed out a sleepy
laugh, then held out her hand and helped him to his feet.

"Don't make fun of my navel, Mulder... at least it doesn't collect
lint!"  She looked down at it; being a little "outy" of a navel there
wasn't any room for lint storage.  Mulder pretended to be injured at
her admonishment.

"I would never poke fun at your navel, Scully - I happen to think
it's cute."  To prove his point he touched it gently with the tip of
a finger; that one touch giving Scully a lovely shiver which she
didn't bother to suppress.  Mulder stared down into her sleepy eyes
and his murmur was low and a little shaky against her ear.

"Bed-time, for both of us.  We have a very long day tomorrow."  She
nodded and leaned into his chest for a quick snuggle before they left
Bill's suite and headed next door to their own.  She disengaged the
lock and entered; Mulder pushed the door to their room closed behind
them.  Scully turned into his welcoming arms, felt his hands move
over her back and she nestled closer, wishing she could freeze this
moment in time.  They were leaving tomorrow.  The Excursion was
packed; they only had a few things left to carry down with them when
they checked out.  In the morning they would leave the East Coast and
all that was familiar behind and she didn't know if they would ever
be back.

"Hey," Mulder whispered against her hair.  Scully looked up.

"I have an idea," he told her as he pulled her toward the bathroom.
She watched him tug back the shower curtain and turn on the taps,
testing the water temperature on his hand.  When it was adjusted to
his satisfaction, he rummaged through the basket of complimentary
soaps provided by the hotel and dumped the contents of a small bottle
of shower gel into the tub.  She looked at Mulder and then back at
the small hotel bathtub.  She wasn't sure if he wanted them to take a
bath together, but she knew that there was no way they would both
fit.  She tilted her head back as he leaned down to her.

"I don't know when you're going to have a chance to enjoy a bath
again," he said, a note of apology entering his voice.  "I'm afraid
that it's going to be showers for a very long time."  Scully's eyes
slid shut as he kissed the tip of her nose.  "Go ahead," he murmured.
"I'm going to watch some television."

She waited until he had pulled the door closed behind him to slip
out of her clothes.  She eased into the tub; a happy sigh escaping
her as the hot water immediately helped to relax her aching muscles.
Scully stretched out an arm and grabbed a towel from the vanity,
folding it up and stuffing it behind her head.  She could feel the
tension drain out of her tired body and into the hot water as her
thoughts turned to Mulder.  She had never known that she was capable
of loving another person so much.  Love had crept upon her one day
when she wasn't paying attention and then she had spent years trying
to deny it.  Now though, she was free to express her love for him and
lavish her attentions on him.

Scully idly picked up a small bar of soap.  She didn't know how she
would have survived the last few days without Mulder's loving
presence, she thought as she slid the sliver of soap over her arms.
Each night he had held her in his arms, hushing her tears against his
strong chest until she slept, wrapped in his protective embrace.  His
soothing whispers of love and comfort had buoyed her and his gentle
kisses reminded her that there was still a life to be lived.

She rolled her head against the towel.  What would it be like, she
wondered, to forget about everything else and simply concentrate on
Mulder and the way he made her feel?  Her hands drifted restlessly in
a line down her throat, her fingers skimming across the tops of her
breasts.  She cupped one hand around herself and imagined that it was
Mulder's hand testing the small weight of her breast - his fingers
tracing teasingly around the nipple.  Behind the closed lids of her
eyes, she could see him leaning over the tub, the heat of the water
and desire bringing a flush to his cheeks.  She touched her fingers
to her lips, feeling Mulder's mouth moving over them - his hands
lovingly kneading her breasts.  Her hands - his hands - slid over the
smooth skin of her stomach, fingers dipping into her belly button
briefly before continuing their journey down her body.  She gasped as
her fingers trailed along the soft skin of her inner thigh -
teasingly, tantalizingly close.  A tiny moan escaped her as her
fingers finally slid between her legs and she shifted restlessly in
the water as she imagined his lips trailing the same path down her
body as he whispered words of love and praise against her tender
flesh.

Every muscle in her body tightened under her phantom lover's teasing
and skillful touch.  Wanting to see his face, she opened her eyes and
gasped with disappointment.  Alone.  Her fingers slowed, then stopped
and she buried her face in her hands.  Alone.  Why - when everything
she wanted was in the next room?  Scully stood up abruptly and pulled
the plug from the drain letting the water swirl around her feet as
she climbed out.  She ran a towel over her wet body, quivering as the
roughness of the terrycloth chafed her over-stimulated flesh.  She
wiped her hand over the fogged mirror and studied her reflection.
Her eyes were wide and dark; her cheeks pink and her hair curling
softly around her face in the humid air.  She wondered what Mulder
saw when he looked at her tired little face... then she expelled an
impatient breath.  Jesus - what was wrong with her?

In the next room was a man who loved her without reservation -
without artifice.  And she stood in the bathroom staring anxiously
into a steamed-up mirror looking for imperfections.  Scully shook her
head in self-disgust.  She had wasted enough time...

**************

In the dim light of the bedroom Mulder lounged near the foot of the
bed and idly flipped through television stations.  With no cable this
hotel's viewing choices were limited to three news stations and a
public broadcast station, and one free channel that mostly played
really lousy Muzac versions of such classics as "Tie a Yellow
Ribbon".  For a fairly classy hotel the TV sucked, Mulder thought
with a resigned sigh.  He shut it off and tossed the remote down on
the nightstand, then stretched out with his arms behind his head.
Thinking vague thoughts about the journey tomorrow, he knew the first
thing they needed to do was fine-tune their basic route north.  They
would travel through an enormous portion of Canada; Mulder hoped
their exposure to the effects of the virus would be slim.  He didn't
want Bill and Tara or the kids to see that kind of carnage.  Nor did
he want to see Scully suffer any more of it and think about the way
it had destroyed her beloved family.

Scully... God, he loved her so much!  Mulder stared up at the
ceiling with unfocused eyes, thinking about the way she'd felt in his
arms when they'd stood in the doorway of their room.  So soft and
small... so much of a woman contained in that delicate frame of hers.
Beauty abounding and the courage of a hundred men... how could
someone that tender and fragile in appearance have the sort of
fortitude necessary to do as her brother had asked, and end his
suffering?  Mulder was humbled by it... by her.

He could hear faint splashing behind the closed door of the bath.
Usually they left the door open when one or the other of them took a
shower, but tonight Mulder had pulled the door closed behind him,
wanting the steam of the hot water to stay with her and help to ease
her sore muscles.  He'd wanted her to have an extra measure of
seclusion and privacy knowing that both would be in short supply as
they traveled north.  All of them would be living in each other's
pockets; there would be little time for modesty, much less anything
else.

Including intimacy.

Mulder sighed and let his mind drift, allowing himself the luxury of
imagining Scully surrounded by soft fluffy bubbles and steamy hot
water.  Her hair would curl into irresistible little ringlets in that
humid atmosphere; he'd seen it happen in DC on the weekends when it
was summer-damp outside.  Enchanting... enticing too, the slope of
her rounded shoulders rising above all that silky foam.  He could see
it all in his mind, and he let it wash over him and welcomed the
tightening of his body as he played the images behind his now-closed
eyes.

Her sweet breasts would be buoyant in the water, their rosy tips
visible above the bubbles floating on the surface of her bath.  The
elegant line of her throat would be displayed to innocent advantage
as she leaned her head back against the rim of the tub; Mulder could
imagine trailing his lips up and down that arch of perfect skin. She
would smile against his lips when he raised his head from her throat
to kiss her... one hand would press into his bare shoulder and trail
down his chest on a curious trek toward the heavy throb of his
groin... Mulder let his hand wander that path her hand would take,
over and around each of his sensitive nipples and heading in one
determined trail until his fingers could reach the buttons of his fly
and flick them open.  Those tender fingers of hers would tickle
through the springy hair covering his already rapidly-growing
erection; he let his - now her - hand delve into the opening he'd
made in his jeans; let her phantom hand find him, and wrap around the
hard flesh.  He stifled a groan against the arm he'd flung against
his face, picturing the naked desire in her eyes as she watched her
fingers stroke and pull at him - the way she'd helplessly lick at her
lips as her face moved into him, closer and closer, until he could
feel her soft uneven puffs of breath on his overheated skin,
anticipate the exact moment that lush mouth of hers would open up and
take him inside -

"Mmmm, Scully..."

******************

Wrapping a towel securely around her body, Scully opened the
bathroom door and was immediately stunned motionless.  Her heart
thudded wildly in her chest and the sight that met her eyes
transfixed her.  The light from the bathroom filtered over the bed
illuminating Mulder as he reclined on top of the rumpled blankets.
His head was turned away from her and he seemed unaware of her
presence in the room.  One arm was thrown over his eyes; he was bare-
chested and his jeans were open.  Scully leaned against the door
frame watching as his free hand moved slowly over his body - down his
chest and over his stomach - taking the same path along his body as
she had taken over her own only moments before.  She bit back a moan
when he reached into his jeans.  His hand closed lightly around his
penis and his fingers moved languidly over his hardened flesh.  He
groaned under his breath and his hips rocked in time with the slow
pumping of his hand.  Her name escaped his lips on a fractured sigh
and she must have made a sound because he lifted the arm shielding
his eyes and lazily turned his head toward her.  Scully swallowed
hard and her eyes met his for a moment before they drifted down his
body, hungrily watching his stroking fingers.

Without embarrassment Mulder lifted his other hand and held it out,
beckoning to her.  She moved across the room, stopping when she was
about a foot away from him.  He sat up and caught the tips of her
fingers with his own, pulling her forward until she was standing
directly in front of him.  He tilted his head back and Scully knew he
was waiting for her to make the first move.

She hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders and felt his
stroking hands on the back of her thighs, his fingers flirting with
the edge of the towel wrapped around her body.  Licking her lips, she
leaned down and cupped his face between her hands, lowering her mouth
onto his.  Her kiss was tentative at first but with the familiar
taste of Mulder on her lips, she quickly grew bold.  Her tongue
teased the corner of his mouth, begging for entrance and his lips
parted beneath hers on a sigh.

His hands reached between them and he tugged on the towel, baring
her to his touch.  Scully gasped against his mouth as his hands
slipped up to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples - just
as she had imagined him doing in her solitary bath - but better... so
much better.  She broke away from their kiss and leaned her forehead
against his.  Mulder's hands drifted down to settle on her hips and
he urged her to kneel on the floor in front of him.  This time he
framed her face between his warm palms and rubbed his mouth over hers
and she was quickly lost again in their kiss.

*****************

She tasted like heaven... more delicious than ever because this kiss
was sweetened with the knowledge that there would be no more waiting -
no more interruptions.  Mulder licked at her full lower lip and
stifled another groan against it when her tongue mimicked the action
and then dipped inside for a longer sip of him.  Slipping along his
teeth and burrowing inquisitively into the inside of his cheeks;
stroking the roof of his mouth and then twisting sensuously with his
tongue... she was maddeningly thorough in her investigation of the
inner recesses of his mouth.  Mulder let her explore, feeling as if
they had all the time in the world to taste, and feel... and love.

*******************

Scully broke from the intense kiss and his faint moan of protest was
lost in the shudder he released as she trailed curious fingers along
his denim-clad legs; he inhaled sharply when the back of her hand
brushed against his stomach.  She stroked hesitant fingers across the
straining tip of his erection.  So hard... so full.  God...

"Show me," she pleaded as she wrapped her hand in a loose fist
around the base of his penis.  She smiled softly when she felt a
quiver move through his body and his hand covered hers, guiding her
into a slow, lazy rhythm.  She bent her head, watching her hand move
softly, delicately over his flesh.  He felt amazing; steely and hot
and silky and thick; the musk of his body such a powerful aphrodisiac
that she felt almost light-headed from the effect on her senses.
Mulder brushed his fingers across her cheek and she lifted her head,
allowing herself to drown in it, opening her mouth under his lips.
Scully lifted both hands to his chest and pushed him back, taking
control.  She reveled in the sound of his distressed groan at the
loss of contact with her hand, and shushed him gently.

"Lean back a little," she whispered, nodding approvingly when he
braced himself on his elbows. "That's good," she said.  Her hands
trailed down his chest and she pressed her lips to his in a brief,
hard kiss.  Against the roughness of his cheek she repeated it. "So
good..." She rolled her mouth down over his stubbled chin and licked
a path along the line of his throat, nibbling on the tendon on the
side of his neck, feeling his pulse pounding against her lips.

"I love you," she whispered, rasping the flat of her tongue over his
nipple, and Mulder shuddered beneath her touch.  Her mouth traveled
in a series of nibbling kisses down his torso and her hands traced
patterns over his chest and ribs before settling onto his hips.

"Let's get rid of these," she suggested, curling her fingers into
the open waistband of his jeans.  Mulder lifted his hips and she
peeled them down and off his legs.  She slid up his body and he fell
back onto the mattress.  Scully nuzzled her cheek against his belly
and stroked her thumbs over his hips.  She could feel him twitching
against her breasts and she raised her head, propping her chin on his
stomach.

****************

He was being driven slowly out of his mind... and adoring every
second of it.  No other woman had ever lavished such unselfish
attention upon him.  In his years of experience with the opposite sex
he had always found that his bed partners had been mainly focused
upon their own goals of satisfaction and their brief and distracted
caresses had left him wanting and bereft.  He'd never failed to bring
them to orgasm but any pride that he might have taken in his prowess
as a sensual man had usually flown out the window as soon as it was
over.

Not so with this woman... not with Scully.  How could it be anything
less than perfect?  With each touch of her soft hands, each kiss and
lick and bite and breathless moan she told him without words how she
desired him - loved him.  It humbled him anew, the depth of love
Scully gave to him without reservation... he had to give it back,
needed to show her in the same deep measure.  He was suddenly urgent
in his need to show her.  He looked at her and the hot gleam in her
eyes actually made his mouth water.

*****************

"Come up here, Scully," he said hoarsely.  She shook her head,
smiling with shaky resolve.  She wasn't ready to release him, to let
him take over.  She needed this right now; needed the control, the
aggression...

"Not yet, Mulder," she whispered.  Scully slid down his body, her
hair trailing over his stomach and across his hips.  She inhaled
deeply, drawing his musky scent into her lungs.  Her tongue darted
out in a long, exploratory lap and she raised her eyes to his when
she felt him sit up.  Her hands slipped into the curve of his lean
hips and she held him fast as she stared into his dilated eyes.

"I want to know everything about you that I don't already know," she
told him and he groaned deeply as her hot, moist breath washed over
him.  Scully lowered her head again and Mulder leaned forward,
tunneled his hand under her hair, and then cupped her cheek as she
took him into her mouth.  He chanted her name on a rough thread of
sound, praising her; begging her as she caressed him with tugging
lips and swirling tongue, her fingers scratching lightly over his
hair-roughened thighs.  When she lifted her head again she saw that
his face was flushed and beads of sweat were standing out on his
forehead as she rose up on her knees to kiss him again. Their mouths
met and mated in a kiss both gentle and insistent as her hand moved
gently over him, fingers sliding on the wetness she'd left on his
skin.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her and her world tilted as he lifted
her onto the bed and stretched out alongside of her.  "I want a turn
too," he told her as his swept his hand down her body from shoulder
to thigh.  Scully shivered under his touch and she cupped the back of
his neck in her hand.

*****************

The look of her against the white sheets of their bed was unlike any
fantasy he'd ever produced in the video of his mind; Mulder was in
awe of the perfection he found beneath him.  He traced a bruise on
her rounded hip and an appendectomy scar glistening white and puckered
there on her skin; she trembled as he let his mouth follow the path
of his fingers.  Badges of honor, every bruise and imperfection -
they only made her more perfect in his eyes.  He murmured a teasing,
"Lips before hands, Scully?" into her cute little navel and waited
for her breathless comeback, uttered into the scarce air between them.

"Hips, Mulder... hips."  He smiled into her navel and his retort was
roughly tender.

"Well, I've got them covered as well, baby..." Then he gave up
trying to talk and love her at the same time and concentrated on just
the loving.  There would be plenty of time for talk... lots of
minutes and hours to tell her all the secrets of his soul.  Right now
he had his own slice of heaven between his hands, and he didn't want
to waste a minute of dwelling there.

Over the delicate blades of her ribs, up the left side and curling
his tongue around the tight little nipple, Mulder tasted her with an
endless hunger.  Across the collarbones and down the right side, on a
trek to nirvana - affording her other nipple the same attention, as
Scully shivered and moaned beneath his mouth and tongue.  His hands
were never idle; caressing and stroking every inch of her as his
mouth roamed in a random pattern over her skin, around and down, down
toward the place where she would taste the sweetest.

And he needed more than anything, to taste her there; to know her in
the same way she'd just learned of him... but he wanted to be sure
she was ready for this sort of intimacy.  Though she'd taken the
first step toward oral gratification, it just seemed different for a
woman, somehow - that she would release that last sacred part of
herself to someone else.  It was silly - he knew it. But he was just
insecure enough to need that last assurance from her.  He lifted his
head and caught her glistening eyes; moved up her body, enough to
meet her, face to face.  His voice came out in a broken rasp.

"Scully - are you... okay... with this?"  Her smile was sweetly
loving and her words went a long way toward giving him that
reassurance he needed.

*************

"I've wanted this for so long," she told him in a tremulous whisper.
"But I'm a little scared."

Mulder smoothed the hair from her forehead.  "Of what?" he asked
tenderly.  She slid her hand down his back and curved her fingers
over a bare cheek.

"I want this to be perfect," she admitted.  He smiled in relief and
kissed the tip of her nose.

"It will be," he assured her.  "It's just you and me - and anything
we do together will be perfect," he promised.  Scully smiled shakily.

"I know," she whispered.  She sighed happily when his mouth settled
over hers.  Her hands clenched in his hair as he moaned and slipped
his tongue into her mouth.  His lips molded lightly to hers, rubbing
over her mouth teasingly and she gripped his hair tighter as she
sealed her mouth over his, deepening the kiss, her lips moving
hungrily against his.  He moaned again and broke away.

"Slow down," he whispered as his mouth played over hers, pressing
feathery kisses at each corner and tracing his tongue over the
outline of her mouth.  His mouth slid over hers, always moving,
always teasing.

"More," she moaned against his lips.

"Patience," he chided as he buried his mouth against her throat.
Scully gasped and arched her neck as his tongue curled into the
hollow at the base of her throat.  He opened his mouth wider and
pressed against her frantically beating pulse.

Lifting his head, he ran his hand from her throat down to her
breasts.  Cupping one soft mound in his hand, he lowered his mouth
and encircled the aching tip between his lips, taking another long
drink of her.  Scully cried out brokenly as he drew strongly on her
nipple then smoothed the softest of kisses to the hardened flesh.
She lifted her head and bit down on his shoulder; Mulder jumping a
little at the feel of her sharp little teeth sinking into his skin.
She pulled his face down to hers, her teeth nibbling his lush lower
lip, then rolled onto her side, rubbing her knuckles over the
quivering muscles of his stomach.  Mulder traced his fingers over the
silken curve of her hip; wrapping them around the back of her knee,
he lifted her leg over his thigh.  He slipped one hand between her
legs, his fingers delving into her moist heat.

"Oh," she gasped and her breath came in tiny pants.  Mulder tunneled
his other hand into her tangled hair and his lips grazed over the
tiny dimple on one side of her mouth.

"You look so beautiful like this... so beautiful."  His voice was
hushed and reverent as his eyes roamed over her face, memorizing the
flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and swollen lips of his lover.

****************

On her side against the pillows with her hair all wild and curling
around his fingers, Scully was a vision of desire and sensuous
womanly beauty.  And she was his... Mulder felt like the most
fortunate man in the world.  And her smile told him more than any
single word, as she lay in his arms and opened herself to him.  He
ran a hand down her side and his body slid alongside hers, keeping
her leg propped against his shoulder; in this position she was fully
revealed to him and the soft, wet pink perfection he saw there was
his undoing.  He couldn't wait... he couldn't stop.  He had to have
the tiny button of nerves he spied hidden in her soft auburn curls.

Mulder leaned into her and breathed deeply of the wondrous scent of
her - the pure clean scent of an aroused woman.  That it was Scully;
at last it was she who lay there exposed to him and radiating this
much scented heat... almost too much to assimilate.  He buried his
mouth into the silk he found there and registered her breathless cry
mere seconds before all his cognizant senses shut down and his world
became one vital focus, of loving her.

She tasted like everything good and true; of all he'd ever needed in
his life and had up to this moment been denied.  He ran a careful
tongue around the swollen folds and let it flick against her tight
little clit; with each movement of the tip she shuddered and her hips
rocked into his face.  He could feel her fingers clenching and
unclenching in his hair; it should have hurt but her fingers were
gentle even in the throes of her desire.  Mulder smiled and hummed
his pleasure into her skin and she moaned and thrust herself more
fully against him.

He could have gone on this way forever; adoring the taste and the
feel of her as he rubbed his tongue over her flesh and probed deeply
into the narrow cling of her... but he wanted it all, this first
time.  Wanted the first flush of her climax to pull at his throbbing
flesh and not just at his mouth, although that would surely be as
amazing.  That could wait a bit; it was more necessary for their
first release to be as together as possible.  With regret, Mulder
pressed one last deep kiss into her and slipped up her body until he
again had her positioned with her leg flung over his hip and aligned
face to face and center to aching center.  He looked into her heavy-
lidded eyes, and gasped at the look of her on his pillow.

Jesus... she took his breath away.  He cupped her face and silently
worshipped.

**************

Scully turned her face into the hand that was cupping her cheek and
pressed an open-mouthed kiss into its center.  Still breathless with
the enormity of what he'd made her feel just a few seconds ago, she
skimmed the point of her tongue over the palm of his hand and wrapped
her lips around his forefinger, drawing it deep into her warm, wet
mouth.  Her eyes were hooded with desire as she slid his finger from
her mouth, biting down on the tip and then laving it with her tongue.
Keeping her leg twined firmly around his hips, she wrapped one small,
strong hand around his neck and rolled onto her back, pulling him
over her body, locking her ankles around his back.  Her entire body
was thrumming with need - she could not wait another second.

She didn't need to wait; between them his flesh was hard and burning
with heat and need - it was time.

Her smile was feline as she arched sinuously beneath him, her hand
reaching between their bodies, guiding him to her wet, aching flesh.
"Now," she whispered.  "Please."  Mulder groaned, and nodding, he
sank several inches into her body.  She uttered a low cry and arched
her hips, causing him to slip even deeper within her.  Mulder slid
his arms under her, his hands cupping the back of her head as he
drove all the way within.

"Oh, God..." he groaned against her temple.  Scully unlocked her
ankles and slid her legs down his thighs, curling the soles of her
feet around the backs of his calves.  She clenched her inner muscles
tightly about him, when he would have withdrawn.

"No," she whispered brokenly.  "Don't move... not yet."  Her tongue
darted out to moisten her lips and Mulder swooped down, crushing her
lips with his own.  His mouth moved hungrily over hers and he pulled
his hips back slowly, so slowly until he almost slipped out of her,
then he pushed forward until he was fully embedded in her clinging
warmth.  He began stroking her smoothly, in and out; she wrapped her
arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.  Her lips clung to his
and she stared into his eyes as her hips met every thrust of his
body.

The feeling was incredible; how could she have survived all these
years without experiencing this?  Mulder, inside her - inside where
she had needed him to be.  Inside her heart, her very soul... feeding
her bites of heaven and sustaining her when she needed that
sustenance the most.  The waiting they had both inflicted upon
themselves... what a waste.  Never again, she vowed.  Not a second
more would they throw away.

************

He was in Heaven; had died and gone to Heaven.  He used to think
that trite phrase was stupid in the extreme, but not anymore.
Nothing had ever felt this good... nothing.  Her body fit his
perfectly; her skin slid against his in the most delicious feeling of
friction, as they rose and fell together.  Together... at last,
together.

Why the hell had they waited so long?  All this time, they could
have had this...

Then again - perhaps they wouldn't have appreciated it half as much
had they begun a relationship years ago when they were both too
selfish to partake and share of themselves.  No this was right...
this was good.  In the same place at the same time and cherishing
every movement, every small moan and gasping cry... this was perfect.
He breathed it into her mouth as he pulled her hips up more tightly
against him and felt himself taken even deeper.

"Perfect..." She echoed those words right back to him.  She was
moving fiercely against him, a small explosion of breath forced from
her lungs with every thrust he took.  He never thought about the
difference in their size, that he might hurt or overwhelm her.  He
never worried about crushing her petite frame underneath his driving
body; Scully gave as good as she got.  Tight and wet and hot...
deeper and deeper until it was impossible to find the ending of him
and the beginning of her... so right... he wanted it to last forever.

He knew it couldn't last much longer... it was too good.  In his
experience the good things of life didn't last very long...

***************

She shivered when Mulder swore softly by her ear as he fought back
his climax and she planted her feet onto the mattress as she bucked
up into his driving hips.  His name broke over her lips on a sob when
he slid his hand between their bodies, dipping his fingers into her
slippery folds.  He touched just the right spot and her legs trembled
as her orgasm bore down on her; she buried her mouth against his
throat, muffling her cry as her body convulsed.

Mulder braced himself on his elbows and dropped his head onto her
shoulder. His breathing was ragged as he pounded his body into hers.
So close... he wasn't ready for it to end but he was on the edge; had
been on the edge almost before they'd begun.  He bowed his back over
her, pumping his hips against hers - feeling it come up fast and
unstoppable. Groaning, he pulsed against her welcoming flesh,
emptying himself within her.  One last shudder and he was sinking
bonelessly down into her cushioning embrace.

Home... at last, home.

Scully wrapped her arms and legs around his quivering body as he
sank down atop her, crushing her into the crumpled sheets.  Her hands
stroked through his sweaty hair as she whispered words of love
against his temple.  Her lips sought his in a tender kiss as their
racing hearts slowed.  Her lover, finally.  Those words had never
sounded sweeter than when she whispered them into his ear and heard
his answering sigh of contentment.  He leaned back a little and
looked down into her eyes with love shining from his own.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he scraped damp tendrils of hair
from her cheeks.  Scully smiled and nodded, fighting back reactionary
tears.

"I feel so good," she told him.  His smile was so adorable; Scully
couldn't resist one last kiss.  Mulder's lips curled against hers as
he slipped from her body, sighing with resignation.  He'd wanted
nothing more than to remain inside her forever... or all night,
whichever would come first.

Scully rolled onto her side, drawing one of his arms around her and
resting her cheek on the inside curve of his other arm.  Mulder's
hand curled possessively around her breast and he buried his face
against the silken skin of her back.  Scully felt, more than heard,
his whispered 'I love you' against her skin.  Snuggling her hips
against him, she tumbled into sleep.

*****************

In the watery early-morning light the room was silent and cool -
they'd forgotten to turn off the air conditioner.  Mulder turned and
flopped onto his back, still in that netherworld of waking yet
dreaming.  Next to him Scully still slept deeply, her fingers twined
through his and a shapely leg pinning him down.  Slowly his eyes
opened; he yawned and stretched, careful not to disturb her.  Mulder
turned his head and watched his Scully sleeping.  He'd done this
before but this morning it felt different to watch... he felt
different.  And it went so far beyond sexual satisfaction...

Because for once in his entire sorry life Mulder felt loved -
completely, thoroughly loved.  If he died five minutes from now he'd
die a happy man, with his only regret being the wish that they'd had
forever to love like this.  He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about,
yet in one amazing night Dana Scully had restored to him all he'd
lost.  Every tear he'd shed for his mother and father, his sister...
all redeemed and given back to him.  Every disrespectful utterance
against him and his reputation... restored.  All his immediate
worries, current fears and anxieties for the future... all had been
drained from him mere hours ago.  And yes, these problems would come
back a hundredfold... but for now Mulder was saturated with Scully
and life was very, very good.

Kissing her face gently, he slid carefully from the bed, taking care
not to wake her.  It was still very early and they did not need to be
up for at least another hour.  Padding naked to the desk, Mulder
flipped open his laptop and booted up, preparing to check his email
one last time before they hit the road.  He brought up his mail
server; he had three messages.  The first one was from Frohike,
wishing them a safe and speedy trip and promising to follow as soon
as they felt they could no longer be of service in DC.  Mulder smiled
as he deleted the message; they would all miss the guys.

The second message was from his investment broker - his monthly
financial report.  Mulder scanned the two-page report, noting it had
returned a healthy little dividend.  He sighed, knowing he had to try
getting the rest of it out this morning before they left town.  He'd
removed a goodly portion yesterday but since he hadn't wanted to
appear too suspicious he'd gone easy on the withdrawal.

The third email made him sit up at attention.  He sucked in a sharp
breath as he read:

'Agent Mulder: Do not enter Canada by way of Niagara Falls.  Do not
enter Canada at any border except North Dakota.  When you arrive
there, you, Agent Scully and Assistant Director Skinner must not be
seen.  People are looking for you.  You must find any possible way to
become invisible to the border patrol. Agent Scully's brother and his
family must appear to be the average American family driving into
Canada on vacation.

'Do not consume meat, Agent Mulder.  Stay clear of any and all meat
products, either fresh or canned/frozen.  Do not consume corn
products - any variation of those products.  I cannot go into detail
at this time - just heed my warnings.

'It is not important for you to understand how I know what you are
about to accomplish today - let's just accept that I know.  You will
transact necessary business at your financial institution. When
you finish your business you will enter the men's room on the first
floor and go to the third stall.  Taped behind the tank is a safe-
deposit key.  The key will open safe number thirty-four, and inside
that safe you find there are two packets of identification.  Mr.
Scully and his family should use them when approaching the two
borders you must cross.

'I know you are an intelligent man, Mr. Mulder - which means I know
approximately where you may try to settle.  You will succeed if you
go there - you will be safe.  You and Agent Scully must remain safe
at all costs.  You are the future.

'Remember:  you will always have a friend at the FBI, even though
the world as we know it may dissipate before our eyes.

'Never stop seeking your truth.'

Mulder re-read the email three times, then sat back in his chair and
expelled the breath he'd been holding.  A friend... the same friend
who planted old microfiche at Georgetown Library, perhaps?  Who made
it blatantly easy for them to discover the truth about the alien
colonization in the first place?

A friend who wanted them alive and safe and moving across the US
border in a no doubt obscure area of North Dakota, intelligent and
intuitive enough to understand they had to move to Alaska to survive
and even second-guessing which of them would be making the trip.
Maybe a friend worth listening to, worth keeping - maybe not.  Mulder
sighed and rubbed his eyes; he didn't know what to think.

Two warm hands curved around his neck, causing him to jump a little.
In his deep contemplation he hadn't even heard Scully walk into the
room.  She leaned over his shoulder and pressed a string of light
kisses across his cheek then caught his mouth in a deeper caress.
Mulder slid a hand into her hair and held her head close as he
enjoyed the leisurely kiss, refusing to think of anything beyond the
sweetness of early-morning kisses from the woman he loved.

Scully released his mouth and came around his chair, insinuating
herself between the desk and him, straddling his lap and gazing down
into his eyes with mischievous baby blues; then she put her mouth
close to his ear and her whisper tickled his lobe.

"Am I to presume that I'm playing second fiddle to your laptop,
Agent Mulder?  What's it got that I don't, hmmm?  More memory?  More
powerful gigabytes?  A keyboard that won't quit?"  Her silly banter
made Mulder smile and he wound his arms around her bare waist and
nuzzled that smile between her soft breasts.

"My keyboard can't hold a candle to you, Scully... its shift keys
are way too small."  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on each of her
little pink nipples, licking at the tender points gently and loving
the way her sighs filled all the needful places in his heart.  He
held her very close and kissed her good morning everywhere he could
reach, then determinably set her away, turning her around on his lap
until she faced the laptop screen.  Tapping a finger on the screen,
he instructed, "Read that - and tell me what you think."

Scully did exactly as he'd done; she read it several times before
saying a word.  Turning back around, she regarded Mulder with worried
eyes.  "Mulder, this person knows a lot about us and our plans.  He
knows Bill and Tara and the kids are with us.  He probably also knows
we've contacted the Gunmen and have stocked up on supplies, for God's
sake!  Do you think he's watching us?"  Scully was very uneasy.
Mulder rubbed his hands up and down her back as he thought about what
this sort of knowledge might mean for them.

"I don't know, baby.  This could be another situation like X or Deep
Throat - we have talked about the possibility before.  Whatever it
is, there's nothing we can do.  We're leaving today.  We have to go
to the bank one more time and clear out as much from my savings as we
can without arousing too much suspicion."

"Are you going to do as the email instructs?  Check out the safe and
use these ID packets?"  Scully looked at him curiously, still
snuggled in Mulder's lap.  He nodded slowly, stroking her back.

"Yes, I might as well.  If I'm being watched then so be it.  I'm not
letting anything stop us from leaving today - but I'm not throwing
away any possible help, either."  Mulder stood up with Scully still
straddling him; she gasped and flung her arms around his neck and
hung on as he carried her back into the bedroom.  Sinking down upon
the bed, he steadied her atop him and kept himself pressed between
her thighs, wiggling his brows suggestively at her when she pretended
to frown disapprovingly down at him as she balanced her hands against
his chest.

"So, Mulder - whatcha got on... your mind?"  He chuckled and his
hands cupped around her saucy little bottom, feeling her open
softness and her silky curls caressing his rapidly growing erection.
He made one tiny adjustment and lifted her up, then brought her down
over him and felt himself slip deep.  He groaned softly in tandem
with her gasp of rekindled desire; he sat up a little and wound his
arms around her waist and buried his face against her breasts as she
held onto his shoulders and began to rock upon him.   Gently...
slowly... rocking easy and taking him to a hot, dark place where he
never wanted to leave.

Soft, the movements they made against each other; it was early in
the morning and they had another hour to be alone and in love -
making love - before their day would truly begin.  Before they would
buckle themselves into a large vehicle loaded with supplies and begin
a trip into the unknown.

They had an hour, and they took full advantage of it, using every
precious minute of their time together - cementing their commitment,
and celebrating their joined life.  They kissed endlessly and held on
to each other - and when they climaxed they both cried out softly and
shuddered; gripping tightly and letting the moment spool out until
there was nothing left but cooling flesh and wildly beating hearts -

And all the love in the world.

*********************
end of chapter twelve

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Eleven ~

"Hey - it's me."  The voice on the other end of the line whooped in
excitement.

"Jesus, man!  Where've you been?  We've been worried out of our
friggin' minds!  You wouldn't believe the rumors..."

"Oh, I'd believe it... listen.  I need your help, but I don't want
to get into very much over the phone.  I am going to email you
something - and when you get it I need you to do exactly what the
email says, and when you've done it email me back and let me know.
I'm sorry to have to be so mysterious - but I've got good reason."

"It's okay - I understand.  Everything's still secure over here - we
swept about ten minutes ago.  Email away..."

After the click in his ear signaled the end of the call, Byers
turned to Frohike, and spoke reassuringly.  "He's okay - and I'd bet
Agent Scully and Skinner are with him.  He needs our help..."

Mulder disconnected his cell phone, and smiled in relief.  Turning
to his laptop he tapped out the remainder of the list he'd been
furiously typing as he'd spoken to Byers, then hit 'send'.  As an
afterthought he emailed the guys again and asked them to dig out the
Triple Fat Goose parka and bibs he'd worn to Antarctica; Langly had
borrowed them months ago and had forgotten to return them.  No sense
in buying another set of arctic gear when he already had a perfectly
good set; they'd need to save as much of their money as possible.

Money... another problem.  Mulder sat back in the under-padded hotel
chair and rubbed at his face, pondering their best angle on the money
situation.  Scully had left everything behind in his apartment when
they'd fled. Her ID and badge, all her credit cards... useless now
because there wasn't a safe way to go back there.  No doubt the
building had been under surveillance all this time.  These people did
not make mistakes.  Skinner would be able to access his funds, as
would Bill and Tara.  And Teena Mulder's estate still sat safe and
gaining interest, in three different banks.  Even if Scully couldn't
touch her account, they'd be good for money, at least enough to get
them everything they needed for the trip and to take with them to use
until paper money ceased to be of value.

Mulder didn't doubt that time would come, and quicker than they'd
like to see.  He shut down the computer and prepared to find Scully
and Skinner and see how far they'd come on their own lists.

*************

Scully sat on the floor in Skinner's room as they made notes of all
the supplies they would need to take with them.  First and foremost
on Scully's mind were medical supplies.  "Most of the things we'll
need we can get at a local pharmacy, but the drugs are going to be a
problem," she said.

"Can't you write a prescription?" Skinner asked.

She shook her head.  "No prescription pad for one thing," she told
him, patting the pockets of her borrowed clothes.  "Besides, it would
be too suspicious to write that many prescriptions.  No pharmacist
would fill them all."

Skinner peered at her over the top of his glasses.  "We can go to
several different pharmacies," he suggested.

She shook her head again.  "No.  I don't want to take any chances
that their computers are linked.  I don't want my name throwing up
any red flags - not when we're so close to getting out of here."

Skinner nodded and frowned.  "I'm open to suggestions."

"Well..." Scully tapped her pen on top of her notepad.  "I have an
idea but I don't know how legal it is."  She looked up at her boss
with troubled eyes.  He gazed back down at her for several long
minutes weighing her words thoughtfully.

"You're not suggesting that we go out and buy them on a street
corner, are you?" he asked doubtfully.

Scully grinned.  "No, Sir."

"In that case - extraordinary times call for extraordinary
measures," he intoned solemnly.  "What's your plan?"

She was busy scribbling down the names and dosages of the drugs she
thought they would need.  "The Lone Gunmen," she said, looking up
from her list.  "Mulder is going to contact them to ask them to bring
some of the other things that we'll need and to try to convince them
to come with us.  I'll ask him to give them this list.  If anyone can
get what I want, those three can."

Skinner peered over her shoulder to see what she was writing.
Scully twisted around to look up at him.  "What have you got there?"
he asked, nodding toward the list.

"Well, I can think of a dozen more things I'd like to ask for, but
this will have to do," she said, reading off the names of several
antibiotics and medicines for pain, as well as medications to control
high blood pressure, a prescription for migraine relief and a few
others.  "Who knows what we're going to find when we get to wherever
it is that we're going, Sir?" she explained.

Skinner nodded and flopped down into a chair, bracing his elbows on
the arms of the chair and studying her over the tips of his steepled
fingers.  "Listen... we're going to be spending a lot of time
together in some pretty cramped quarters," he said.  Scully frowned
and nodded. Skinner regarded her seriously, and continued, "I'm not
really your boss anymore.  In all honesty, you and Mulder are the
leaders of this group now."

She shook her head and opened her mouth to argue.  Skinner held up
his hand.  "The point I'm trying to make is that I don't think we can
go through the rest of our lives calling each other 'Sir' and 'Agent
Scully'."

Scully smiled shyly.  "No, I guess we can't."

"The name is Walter," he said softly.  "Or Walt, if you prefer."

Scully looked up.  "It's going to take some time to get used to
this... Walter."

"That it will, Dana."

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and picked up the telephone.  "I'd
better get this list to Mulder before he calls the guys," she said,
dialing the phone.  The phone rang three times before Mulder answered
it in their room.

"Mulder?" she asked.  "Do you have a minute?"  She listened for a
moment and then nodded at Skinner.  "Good," she said into the phone.
"Would you come down here then?"

She set the receiver back into its cradle.  "He'll be right down,"
she told Skinner.  A minute later there was a knock at the door and
Skinner opened it, stepping aside to allow Mulder to enter the room.
Mulder immediately walked over to where Scully was sitting on the
floor, still making notes on her pad.  He set his hand on the top of
her head and she looked up smiling.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Have you called the Gunmen yet?" she wondered.  He nodded.

"Yes, but I can call them again in a little while.  Why?"

"Just this."  Scully tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and
handed it to him.  "Walter and I have been working on a list of
medical supplies," she told him.  "This is a list of things I don't
think we'll be able to get on our own.  I'd like you to ask the guys
about them - see if they can get them for us."

Mulder raised arched brows at her casual use of their bosses' first
name.  "Walter?" he said slowly.

"Dana and I have come to an... understanding," Skinner said with an
evil smile on his face.  Mulder scowled at the older man and Scully
stood up, placing her hand on his chest.

"That's right, Mulder," she said.  "Walter pointed out that he's
technically not our boss any longer.  He suggested that since we are
going to be sharing... intimate quarters - " She threw a teasing
glance over her shoulder at Skinner, "it's silly for us to be so
formal."  She smiled sweetly at Mulder.  "I told him that he could
call you Fox."
Mulder choked and Scully clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a
giggle.

"You don't mind do you Fox?" Skinner asked with a devilish smile.
Getting into the silliness of the moment, Mulder slung an arm around
Scully's shoulders and his answering smile was just as evil.

"No problem, Skinman."  Scully could not contain the laugh that
burbled up at the astonished look on Skinner's face.

"On second thought," Skinner said, "I think I'll stick with Mulder."

Mulder grinned.  "Sounds good, Walt."  Skinner heaved a long-
suffering sigh.

"Don't you have a phone call to make?" he asked pointedly.

"Right."  Mulder looked down at Scully, pleased to see a tiny smile
still playing on her lips.  "Anything else that you want me to ask
them to get for you?  I've been emailing them - I can send another
one right now."

"Weeelll," she said slowly.  "Maybe one of those portable
defibrillators - like the ones that they carry on airplanes now?" she
asked hopefully.

"I'll see what we can do," he promised.  "How is the supply list
coming?" he asked.  Skinner lifted the notebook from the table.

"We're pretty much finished," he said.  "We've done our best to
whittle it down to the basics - clothes, bottled water and non-
perishable food items.  We also decided on some camping gear - a camp
stove, pots, pans, metal plates, utensils."  He flipped the page and
ran his finger down another list.  "Medical supplies, towels, cloth
diapers for Meggie, and personal care items like toothpaste, soap,
shampoo and deodorant."  He looked up from the list with a crooked
grin.  "We're going to spend a lot of time together in a confined
space over the next couple of weeks... might as well smell good!"

He handed the notebook to Mulder.  "We still need to pick up car
seats for the kids."  He sighed and scratched his head.  "We'll have
to wait until we're settled someplace to get whatever else we need."

Scully took the notebook from Mulder's hands and tore several pages
from it.  She handed one list to Skinner, another to Mulder and kept
the rest.  "Let's get started."

************

Scully and Tara trudged wearily through the shopping mall. While
they shopped Mulder had gone to the pharmacy to pick up the
miscellaneous medical supplies and other personal care items that
were on the list while Bill and Skinner had been sent out to buy the
camping equipment and car seats.  They were also having the Excursion
outfitted with a roof rack to accommodate their supplies.

Tara blew a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes and the smile she
directed at Scully was thin from weariness.  "Under different
circumstances, this would be fun," she said in an equally tired
voice.  She and Scully had taken on the Herculean task of buying
clothes for everyone.  They were doing their best to keep their
purchases to a minimum, knowing that space in the Excursion would be
at a premium.  Still, buying enough clothes to outfit seven people
for a harsh winter, even if they were only buying the basics, was a
daunting task.  They had quickly realized that they were not going to
be able to lug all of their purchases around the mall and had made
arrangements to have their packages delivered to the mall management
office for safekeeping.

Scully glanced at her watch and groaned.  "We have less than ninety
minutes before they come back to pick us up," she told her sister-in-
law.  "Let's get this over with."

Seventy minutes later they only had a few items left on their list
and were making their way through the mall toward a sporting goods
store where they hoped to find a parka and boots for Scully, when she
suddenly stopped in front of a toy store.

Tara looked at her questioningly.  "Let's go in," Scully said
impulsively.  Tara followed her sister-in-law into the store.

"What are you doing, Dana?" she asked.

Scully looked up from a display of stuffed animals.  "I want to get
something for the kids," she said.  Tara looked at the list in her
hand and then back at Scully.

"But Dana... we don't have much room," she reminded her helplessly.
Scully grabbed her hand.

"Look - they won't understand any of this and they're going to be
scared and confused."  She licked her lips as she tried to explain.
"God, Tara... they're children.  They should at least have a couple
of toys."

Tara smiled and her eyes were bright with tears.  "Thank you, Dana,"
she whispered.  "I've been thinking the same thing, but I was afraid
to ask."

Scully shook her head.  "Listen, Tara.  If you have an idea or a
suggestion don't be afraid to speak up.  We need all the good ideas
we can get our hands on!"

The two women quickly brought a stuffed rabbit for Meggie and a
coloring book and crayons for Matthew as well as a few other small
toys and storybooks.  Time was running short and they hurried to the
sporting good store to make the last of their purchases.  They went
to the management office to collect all of their bags and settled
down on a bench near the mall entrance to wait for their ride.

Tara leaned her head wearily against the back of the bench and
watched the doors for any sign of Bill.  Scully was skimming over the
list one last time making sure that they had bought everything they
needed.  She looked up at a small sound from Tara.  "What's so
funny?" she asked seeing a tiny smile playing around the corners of
her sister-in-law's lips.

"I was just thinking," Tara said slowly.  She rolled her head
against the back of the bench to look at Scully.  "How much would you
have paid to see the expression on Mulder's face when he put a six
month supply of tampons down on the counter at the drugstore?"

Ten minutes later, they were still grinning as they helped the men
load their purchases into the Excursion.

**************

"I wish you guys would change your minds, and just come with us now.
I don't like the idea of you hanging around in DC."  Mulder loaded
the rest of the gear in the back of Langly's beat-up old Volvo.  He'd
taken a cab from the drug store, figuring he'd borrow the Volvo long
enough to take the supplies back to Bethesda and then turn it over to
Byers who would take it back to DC.

Now Mulder turned to face his three friends as they helped him pack
up the last of the items on the list.  Byers hefted the defibrillator
into the back hatch; Mulder was dying to know where they'd found it
but figured he'd be better off not knowing.  Frohike glanced at the
printed list in his hands and nodded, then his eyes met Mulder's and
he grinned in response and replied in his gruff voice.

"Come on, Mulder... you'd deny us our fun?  We wanna see what goes
down.  We'll come, really we will - but not yet.  Not until we see
what we can do to muck up the works around here."  Byers turned from
the hatch and added his two cents' worth.

"It's better if we stay for a while, Mulder... I'm still trying to
get hold of Suzanne.  I wouldn't be able to assure my own safety
until I know for sure that she's okay... preferably with me but in
the off-chance it's not possible, at least safe somewhere."  Mulder
nodded.  He understood, but it was still tough to just let them stay
not knowing for sure if they'd survive.  He clasped Langly on the
shoulder with one hand and gripped Frohike's stubby fingers with the
other.

"Don't leave it too long, okay?  Use your heads.  And the guns, but
only if you need them."  He nodded toward the small arsenal he'd
piled in an empty box, then eyed Langly with a stern glare.  Langly
had been enchanted by the new additions to their personal stash; none
of them had ever gotten around to buying guns and it had always
bugged Langly that they'd been lacking in the firearms department.
The blonde haired man shrugged and grinned.

"I'll behave!  Jesus, why does everyone always assume I'm the
irresponsible one?"  Langly was miffed.  Mulder laughed and one hand
reached out to tug on a hank of Langly's hair.

"Could be those Goldi-locks and the Buddy Holly glasses... or maybe
the way you can't resist playing with things.  Just take it easy and
don't get happy with the target practice... that's all I ask.  And
don't shoot your eye out."  Mulder climbed in the car and buckled in,
while Byers jumped in the passenger seat.  Frohike shook Mulder's
hand again and gave him some last-minute instructions while Langly
cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.

"Take care, Mulder - and take care of the delectable Agent Scully.
Tell her I'm sorry we couldn't all come up there to say goodbye but
somebody has to stay here and make sure our stuff doesn't get stolen.
And Langly here is such a chicken-shit he'd probably hide under the
bed if those bastards came knocking."  Mulder shook his head and
gunned the engine, partially drowning out Langly's injured squawk at
his buddy's callous remark.  He eased out into the street, leaving
them bickering on the sidewalk.  With one last holler to them to take
their argument inside where it was safer, Mulder drove off, Byers
adjusting his seat belt and stretching his long legs in the passenger
seat.

They had been driving in companionable silence for about ten minutes
before Byers spoke up.  "Mulder... can we fight this?  Realistically -
how much of a chance do we have?"  Mulder glanced sideways at him as
he turned onto the Interstate.

"We can live for a while, if we go where the bees can't follow.  One
thing I can tell you: a handful of uninfected rebels with a few guns
and a lot of prayers will not stop colonization.  We need a way to
stop the virus and that means finding a vaccine.  That's why we
needed the lab equipment you guys dug up for us.  Scully wants to
experiment once we get settled up north.  I wish you'd all
reconsider, and just come with us."  Byers shook his head and the
smile he threw on Mulder was meant to reassure.

"We'll be fine.  I promise as soon as we can, we'll come north.
You'll keep in touch somehow and we'll come to you when we can.
It'll be okay, Mulder... we'll be okay."  Mulder smiled back but the
gesture felt empty - and it scared him to think he might never see
his friends again.  But he refused to let on to Byers that he was
anything but confident and sure about their future.

And Byers refused as well, to show his fear.


***********
end of chapter eleven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Ten ~

One bee, then another... squirming their little bodies over each
other in their eagerness to come in from the heat.  Not letting a
little kerosene smell deter them from their purpose in life: to sting
the shit out of every human in existence and die as soon as they
succeeded...

At the moment the humans in existence wanted nothing more
complicated than to bust their way out of a garage that had suddenly
become a bit more crowded than they preferred.

The first bee managed to worm its way out from underneath its less
aggressive brother, and as soon as it had wing clearance it took
flight.  It had an agenda.  There was a job to do and it was just the
bee to do the job... it flew straight for the open door of the large
Ford Excursion -

Five seconds later the bee bit the dust on the hastily rolled up
side window as the vehicle barreled forward through a garage door
only partially open.  The relatively flimsy door was no match for the
thick protective grate on the front of the Ford - a custom addition
meant to keep the grille from damage in the event of hitting a
massive animal such as deer or moose.

Or something as large as a garage door.

Inside the cab the passengers and driver heaved a sigh of relief.
Mulder wiped the sweat from his face and turned around in his seat to
check first on Bill and Tara, who each had a child on their laps,
doing their best to calm the screaming children. He then turned his
attention to where Scully lay sprawled on the floor near his feet.
He had snatched Matthew out of her hands and pushed him toward his
father, before turning back and grabbing Scully by both hands as she
scrambled into the high-riding truck.  She'd pulled her feet into the
vehicle and Mulder had slammed the door shut behind her, screaming at
Skinner "Go! Go! Go!"  In the driver's seat Skinner wasted no time
maneuvering through the still-quiet neighborhood, on alert for
military police who could stop them for driving above the twenty-five
mile per hour base speed limit.

They gained the front gate and put the naval base behind them.  It
was just starting to get busy on the streets outside base grounds;
they got through a series of intersection lights without hitting a
single red.  Down the main thoroughfare to the outskirts of town,
they set a course for Bethesda.

The three-hour drive into Maryland was accomplished in relative
silence, as if each passenger in the Ford Excursion needed to be lost
in his or her own thoughts.  Tara and the children had fallen asleep
almost immediately; they were emotionally drained and had gotten
little sleep huddled together in the cold shelter.  Bill held the
baby in his arms, the child draped across his chest like a tiny
blanket, and Tara lay with her head in his lap and her arms firmly
around Matty who lay spooned alongside her.  Scully had stretched out
on the middle seat and her soft little snore was soothing in the
quiet interior of the big Ford.  In the front seat Mulder stared out
the windshield with dry, reddened eyes and tried not to think too
hard about their immediate future.  Tough to do because it seemed to
be the only thing on his mind...

"We've got to have a plan.  Any ideas?"  Skinner's low rumble broke
into his thoughts, and Mulder rubbed the heels of his hands over his
eyes and yawned hugely.

"Yeah.  We need to go someplace very cold, although I'm sure the
rest of the group will hate me forever for that suggestion.  At least
Scully might - she has despised the snow ever since Antarctica.  But
I don't see a choice here.  I'm thinking Alaska.  The bees can't
survive the Arctic - if I remember correctly the Alaskan Range is
fairly nasty all year long.  They would have to clear the Range to
settle in the northernmost regions of Alaska, and Barrow comes to
mind, since it's beyond the Range.  It's fairly populated but I'm not
sure about access.  It might be fly-in only.  We can travel across
Canada into Alaska.  That'll take us close to Fairbanks, I think.
From there we can get the supplies we need and drive up the highway
to Prudhoe Bay.  I think it's the Dalton Highway that we want."
Mulder paused and tried to remember his geography.  As a child he'd
been fascinated by Alaska and had studied it minutely.  Now this
stored knowledge might come in handy.

"Alaska it is, then.  I don't think anyone will truly mind.  The
point is to survive the immediate threat and find us a safe place to
wait out colonization.  Alaska may be our best bet."  Skinner snapped
on the radio and fiddled with the dial until he found a station
playing oldies.  The familiar music floated softly in the background
and Mulder smiled faintly at the good feelings the tune could instill:

'Put your glad rags on - join me Hon -
Gonna have some fun when the clock strikes one -
We're gonna rock around the clock tonight
Gonna rock rock rock 'till the broad daylight -'

Both men relaxed in their seats as they drove on in the morning
sunshine.

They made it to Bethesda in two hours and forty-five minutes, not
intending to speed and risk getting pulled over, but an underlying
urgency to find a place indoors and away from the bees was uppermost
in their minds and lending Skinner a bit of the lead foot.  Staying
away from the downtown congestion they found a small but nice hotel
on the southeast exit and decided it was good enough.  Pulling into a
Hampton Inn, Mulder noticed the place was just about deserted.  He
remarked, "Well, at least we won't hear a lame excuse about
vacancy..."

While Skinner went in to get the rooms, Bill and Tara woke the
children who were understandably cranky, and Scully stretched and
finger-combed through her hair, trying to untangle it.  In the front
seat Mulder turned around and watched her tenderly, quipping, "Leave
it alone, Scully - I like the wild-woman look.  It suits you."
Scully snorted and resumed her grooming.

"You haven't seen my wild side yet, Partner... you're in for a big
surprise -" A wicked grin from Mulder stopped her from saying
anything more revealing, and from the back seat Bill sighed and his
aside to Tara broke the small bit of tension in the cab.

"Well, if nothing else, they'll keep us entertained on the trip..."

They ended up with three rooms, all on the same floor and close to
each other.  With a tired, "Later, People," Skinner disappeared into
his room and Mulder unlocked the door of the middle room and ushered
Scully inside.  Tara's soft voice called to him just as he started to
follow.

"Mr. Mulder, wait - I have some fresh clothes, for both of you.  I
guess we'll have to get more later, before we travel - but at least
you'll feel better wearing clean things."  Mulder waited patiently in
the hallway as she hurried to open the suitcase and pull out
clothing; Bill leaned against the wall and stared Mulder down, doing
his best big-brother routine to make Mulder sweat a little.

"I should ask you what your intentions are toward my baby sister,
but I guess I already know the answer to that one, don't I?"  The
rueful growl made Mulder smile tiredly.

"Oh, yeah.  I'm gonna do the nastiest, most sexually deviant acts
upon her dainty person, Bro - but first I'm gonna sleep next to her.
Maybe I'll work up enough energy to attempt the other stuff, and if I
manage anything of import I'll let you know and you can beat the
crap out of me later, after I've caught a few Zs, okay?"  Both men
fought to keep the smiles at bay as they faced off.  Finally, Bill
cracked a reluctant smile and as Tara reappeared with folded clothes
in her hands, he gave Mulder a short abrupt nod and a parting shot.

"Put a line of pillows down the center of that bed, Mulder... and
kiss Dana goodnight for me."  Tara handed the clothes to Mulder and
her gentle admonishment to her husband made them all laugh.

"Shut up, Bill... and get into your own bed... now!"  As Mulder shut
the door behind him he could hear Bill Scully's gravelly pout to his
wife.

"Jeez, Tara... you gave him the blue shirt!  That's my favorite
shirt..."  And Tara's louder, more insistent, "Shut UP, Bill...!"

Mulder smiled as he threw all the locks and deadbolted the door.


**************


'God never gives us more than we can bear.'  It was an old
expression and one of her mother's favorites.  In the darkened hotel
room, curled up in the wing-backed chair by the window, Scully
questioned the wisdom of those words.  She had slipped out of bed a
few hours earlier, careful not to awaken Mulder.  She had slept so
hard and so often over the last two days that she was finding it
difficult now to sleep.  Now she craved sleep and the respite it
would give her from the overwhelming grief and sense of loss that
threatened to crush her.  Glancing at her watch, she wished for
morning to arrive so that she could lose herself in their feverish
plans for escape.  Lose herself in the work and forget, just for a
little while, all that had transpired in the last two days.  How was
it possible for an entire world to crumble in less than forty-eight
hours?

Looking at Mulder, she searched for the sense of peace she always
felt while watching him sleep, but tonight it eluded her.  What were
they doing, she wondered?  How can you run away from the end of the
world?  And even if they were successful in surviving the approaching
onslaught, what kind of world would be left for them?  What kind of
future were they offering to Matty and Meg?  Was it one of hope and
rebirth or was it one of fear and sadness?

Tracing Mulder's features with her eyes, she also worried about the
present.  She knew that she was holding onto her self-control by a
thread and she was afraid that it would take very little to snap that
gossamer thread.  At a time when Mulder needed her more than ever
before, she feared she had nothing left to give him.  One of the
first lessons every child learns quickly, is that life isn't always
fair.  The second lesson that life had been trying to teach her was
that she simply wasn't meant to be happy.  She had resisted that
particular lesson all of her life, telling herself that someday...
Someday she would graduate from school and have a wonderful career
where she would make a real difference in the world.  She sighed,
bitterly aware of the fact that the world as she knew it was going to
cease to exist and that she was helpless to stop it.  Someday she
would meet a wonderful man and they would be blissfully happy
together.  She had been half-right.  She had met him but she had
wasted so much time pretending that they could be no more than
partners and friends.  And when they finally agreed to take a chance
on each other, she had told herself that now - now was her time to be
happy... Someday, she had believed, someday she would marry that
wonderful man and they would raise a family...

Scully knew that she was teetering on the edge of a depression so
dark and deep that if she fell into it, she didn't know that she
would ever find her way back out. She needed Mulder to hold her and
tell her that everything was going to be okay, but how could she ask
that of him?  Of Mulder, who was literally carrying the weight of the
world on his shoulders as they all looked to him to guide them to a
safe haven?  Mulder, who had lost so much himself, at so young an age
but who had used those losses to mold himself into the courageous,
beautiful man with whom she had fallen in love.  She could not lean
on him now when there were so many other things demanding his
attention; so many other lives depending on his strength.

Mulder rolled over in the bed and mumbled her name softly.  She
watched him drag her pillow into his arms, nestling his cheek into
the cool cotton of the pillowcase.  He shifted, his arms and legs
moved restlessly under the sheets.  Scully stood up and walked over
to the bed.  She crawled onto the mattress and stretched out on her
side next to Mulder.  He turned his face toward her and she reached
out to stroke gentle fingers through his hair.

"Scully?" he asked huskily.

"Shhh."  She brushed her lips over his forehead.  "Go back to sleep,
sweetheart."

His eyes slid open lazily.  "Sweetheart?" he whispered, as he
nuzzled his face into the soft skin of her throat.

"Shhh," she said again, curling her body around his.  She slid one
hand over his bare shoulder in a gentle caress.  Resting her cheek
against the top of his head, she stared into the darkness.  She
thought he had fallen back to sleep and was startled to hear his
voice.

"Can't sleep?" he murmured against her skin, pressing his lips into
the hollow of her throat.

"I feel as if that's all I've done for two days," she admitted
softly.  Mulder leaned back, resting his head against the pillows.
Scully propped herself up on one elbow and placed her hand on his
chest. "Just because I'm awake, doesn't mean you shouldn't sleep,"
she told him.

Mulder's hand closed over hers.  "Do you want to talk about it?" he
asked.  She shook her head.

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he asked.  She shrugged awkwardly, her eyes
meeting his and then sliding away.

"Either... both.  It doesn't matter.  We don't have the time for me
to wallow in self-pity."  She tried and failed to hide the quiver in
her voice.

"Scully," he chided.  "You aren't wallowing and it isn't self-pity.
You are entitled to mourn."  He looked up at her and stroked his hand
over her cheek.  Scully turned her face and pressed her lips into the
palm of his hand.

"Do you know that verse from the Bible... to everything there is a
season?" she asked.  Mulder nodded slowly.

"A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time
to reap; a time to kill, and a time to heal... a time to mourn and a
time to dance..." he quoted softly.

"Right," she nodded. "A time to weep, and a time to laugh... a time
for love, and a time for peace. But it's not true.  That verse
implies that in life, everything is balanced out.  A time for the
good, and a time for the bad.  But that's not how it works."  She
rolled on top of him, nestling her hips against his and propping
herself up on his chest.  "There is no time.  No time to mourn and
grieve; no time to bury and say goodbye."  She lowered her cheek to
his chest and her voice was a tiny whisper. "No time to dance or to
laugh..." Her voice trailed off into a whisper.  "Mulder?"

His fingers sifted gently through her hair.  "What, Scully?"

"Do you... if you didn't have that picture of Samantha on your desk,
do you think you would remember what she looked like?"

Mulder pulled his head back into the pillow, surprised by her
question.  "I don't know," he told her.

She lifted her head.  "I'm... I can't remember what my father looked
like," she admitted.  "Oh, I could describe him if I had to."  Her
brow was furrowed as she tried to focus on the memory of her father's
face.  "But, I can't *see* him anymore.  Do you know what I mean?"
she asked.

Mulder nodded and waited for her to continue.

"I don't want to forget what they looked like."

He stroked his hands over her back.  "I know."

Scully rubbed her cheek against his chest, pressing her ear over the
steady beat of his heart.  She knew he was waiting for her to
continue and she struggled to put her feelings into words.  "I have
nothing left of them.  I feel like there's nothing for me to hold
onto," she told him.  "My family... my faith."

"God, Scully," he exhaled harshly.  "You can hang onto me."

Scully lifted her head from his chest, saddened by the hurt note she
had detected in his voice, devastated to know that she was its cause.
"I'm afraid to," she admitted.

"Why?" he asked, scraping her hair off her face.  She licked her
lips nervously.

"I'm afraid that I'll need you too much.  That I'll drag you down
with me."

Mulder rolled over, pushing her onto her back.  Rising up on one
elbow, he loomed over her.  "Scully, you have been the only thing
holding me together, more times than I care to remember," he reminded
her. She nodded, closing her eyes and rolling her forehead against
his bicep.  Mulder whispered to her in the silent room and his words
gave her some of what she seemed to need.

"You don't need pictures of your family to remember them.  Your
mother was pretty, petite and one of the two strongest women I've
ever met in my life.  Your brother was funny, handsome and he adored
you.  Your sister-in-law loved Charlie and made him happy; your
nieces were smart and precocious.  Your nephew was precious."

He kissed her lightly on the lips and stretched an arm behind him,
to lift something from the nightstand.

"You learned about love and life and faith from them."  He lifted
her hand and poured her mother's rosary into her palm, closing her
fingers over the silver beads and placing her fist over her heart.
"Your memories of them will fade and their faces will dim in your
mind's eye, but the gifts you received from them, from being a part
of them... those you'll have forever."

His thumb stroked over her cheek and she stared up at him, her eyes
shining with love and hope.

"There is a time for everything," he promised.  "Tonight you may
mourn and tomorrow you may laugh."

Scully twined her arms around his neck, tugging his face down to
hers.  "I love you," she whispered, smiling against his lips.  He
kissed her and tucked her into the curve of his body.

"Try to sleep now," he admonished.  She lay with her head on his
chest, rising and falling with each breath that he drew in and
released.  She closed her eyes... and she slept.

***************

He lay with the woman he adored nestled safely in his arms - and
worried about the future with an anxiety so deep it threatened to
suck him into those very depths which he'd just assured Scully she
was safe from falling.

Mulder was doing the very thing he'd tried to stop Scully from
doing... dwelling on that which could not be controlled, by him or
anyone else.  A thousand tiny details were skittering though his
brain as he lay next to Scully - things like dentists and eyeglass
prescriptions and auto mechanics... perishable foodstuffs and
vegetables and apples.  Things they took for granted - things that
could be found anywhere.  Schoolbooks and heating oil... drinkable
water and aspirin.  He had begun a list of supplies but he knew the
Excursion, while a very large vehicle, could never hold everything
they would need to begin such a long trek north.  Eventually they'd
have to travel in several vehicles, and he worried about where they'd
find these vehicles - and what else they'd discover when they began
to travel.

Mulder knew the anxiety was mostly a temporary state of being and
things would look brighter in the morning.  A new day would bring so
many tasks to accomplish and such a short time in which to put their
plans into action.  He knew that keeping busy was the best way to
keep these worries at bay - and that he was most vulnerable to his
thoughts during the night.

He took much comfort in the knowledge that, for now - Scully was
sleeping peacefully and soundly - a sleep she'd desperately needed.
For as much as she'd claimed to have slept these past few days, it
had not been the kind of soul-reviving, refreshing slumber necessary
to function.

In his arms Scully stirred a little and her hand slipped down his
chest and rested against his abdomen just below his navel.  Warm and
small and capable of so much tenderness... Mulder covered her fingers
with his own and pressed them gently into his skin.  He could feel
his body stirring to life and rather than feeling frustration because
he couldn't satisfy his needs at this very moment... he chose instead
to celebrate the natural processes of his libido and welcome the very
normalcy of his needs, the reassurance that everything was in working
order, so to speak.  Their time would come; Mulder knew this.  Just
as Scully had said to him, there would be a time to love.  An extra
day or three - or four - would not matter.  Their time would come and
when it did it would be exactly right, for both of them.

Mulder took that comforting thought and let it, and Scully's warmth
against his side lull him to sleep.

*************
end of chapter ten
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Nine ~

It should have taken them almost eight hours to get back to Norfolk
and Tara and the kids.  The urgency to make it back, knowing the
threat of swarming bees would be ever-present and uppermost in their
minds - all of them now beside themselves with worry for Bill's
family - kept them from stopping for food or bathroom facilities.
Not that anyone was hungry - they weren't.  If they hadn't needed
gasoline they would not have stopped at all.  But they couldn't risk
running out of gas.  Every minute was now vital to them... every
second it took to get back to Tara was a second carved from their
future.  Without words they had all decreed that their days were
numbered.    And with that decree came acceptance, as well as a
determination that regardless of the length of that future they were
now, for all intents and purposes - a family.

When Skinner stopped for gas, by mutual agreement he left the engine
running and stepped out of the Ford only long enough to get the
nozzle placed and gas flowing.  Scully had fallen asleep in
exhaustion and lay in Mulder's lap like a little girl.  He stroked
his fingers soothingly through her hair and pressed a light kiss to
her forehead.  His baby, now more than ever... his to protect and
care for; his to love.

Above her nestled head Mulder's eyes locked with Bill; face so tired
and stained with more tears than he'd ever had to shed in his life.
Eyes rimmed with the same exhaustion they all felt and a frown
settling between his thick brows.  He opened his mouth twice but
nothing came out.  Mulder quirked a brow of his own and waited
patiently.

Finally, Bill cleared his throat and his rusty voice broke over the
silence in the confines of the car.  "Mulder... I'm sorry - sorry I
didn't believe you... Jesus I've seen it with my own eyes now and I
still can't..." He shook his head, shoulders hunched.  Mulder nodded
and placed a reassuring hand on the strong arm resting along the back
of the front seat.

"I know... I know.  You've got nothing to apologize over; this whole
thing is like the worst sort of nightmare.  I think you can better
appreciate the place your sister and I have been forced to live,
though - the world as we have known it.  It's the sort of place you
can never imagine exists, and when you get to see a small glimpse of
it the rational being inside of you is in instant denial."  He sighed
heavily and shifted Scully's warm weight in his arms, smiling a
little when she muttered his name and burrowed her mouth into his
neck.  Bill watched the little interplay and the ghost of a grin
flickered over his face.

"I can see how much you love Dana.  I think I'm glad."  At the
almost comical widening of Mulder's eyes at the admission, Bill
actually chuckled a little.  "Yeah, I know - go figure.  I have
wasted a lot of years purposely estranging myself from my sister and
cursing the ground you walked on, Mulder - because it was easier to
blame you for everything than take the responsibility of trying to
learn what you were fighting for.  But if today has given me anything
worthwhile, it's let me see the value of time and the preciousness of
life. I have no intention of wasting it, ever again."  He slowly put
out a hand and Mulder met him halfway, clasping Bill's fingers hard.
They sat there for a few moments like that, each of them finding
leftover unanswered questions within a set of blue and a pair of
hazel eyes - and coming to an agreement.

In that moment they got very close to becoming friends... and both
men jumped a little when Scully's sleepy voice broke over their stiff
but sincere male bonding moment.

"God, I love you both..."

***************

Once again the Excursion was eating up the miles.  They had been on
the road for nearly three hours and had just passed the turn-off for
Smithfield, when Bill noticed the snarl of traffic ahead in the
distance.  He sat up and stretched his neck to get a better look as
they were forced to slow down, but couldn't see the hang-up.  In the
deepening twilight it was difficult to see much of anything.  Skinner
rolled down his window and stuck out his head as he reduced speed.
He sighed and cursed under his breath as he came to a full stop
behind a dusty Lincoln Continental.  To his left a Peterbuilt and
behind him a mini-van; they were neatly blocked in on three sides.
Mulder twisted about in his seat looking for the source of the jam;
Scully gulped tepid bottled water and looked worried.  Skinner rolled
up the window, then met Mulder's eyes in the mirror and shrugged.

"Hard to tell from here - maybe more than one car.  Definitely an
accident of some sort."  From their vantage they could see the
flashing lights of several police cars and ambulances.  They kept the
motor running and the air on; it was still hot and sticky outside.
Scully passed the bottle to Mulder and her soft voice was concerned.

"I don't like this.  We can't afford to sit here very long... we
could run out of gas."  Bill nodded and glanced over at Skinner who
was leaning against the window.  Skinner looked down at the gauge and
was relieved to see the tank level at more than two-thirds full.  He
smiled reassuringly at Scully.

"We'll be all right, Scully - we have plenty of gas."

Three hours later they had not moved one inch.

It had become obvious that they were about a half-mile from a
massive pile-up of cars.  From where they sat there was a bit of a
curve in the road, enough to see ahead and make out the edges of the
pile-up which in the dark looked like a large twisted lump.  At first
they'd talked quietly amongst themselves, carefully avoiding the
horrible events of the day and opting instead to begin outlining and
planning their immediate future.  They had decided not to go back to
DC on the off chance that their original pursuers would still be
searching for them; had figured Bethesda might be a good bet.

It was decided they would contact the Gunmen as soon as they could
and ask them to go with them.  Privately, Mulder doubted the guys
would want to come along - he had a feeling they would want to stay
and monitor the events of colonization.  It would be just like them
to want to try breaking down this conspiracy; they seemed to thrive
on that sort of thing.

After the third hour Skinner looked worriedly at the gauge.  If they
did not start moving soon they would have to stop again for gas.
Bill was visibly panicked, beside himself with worry over Tara and
the kids.  Scully had not been able to pick up a strong enough signal
to call her and see how she was doing.  She tried for the fourth
time, checking the signal even though she knew it wasn't there. It
kept her busy, more or less.  She didn't want to get out and walk
around.  Even though her legs were cramped, the interior of the Ford
was blessedly cool.  Standing around in the night heat was not
appealing - and over the course of the jam she had noticed that very
few people had actually left their vehicles, choosing to leave their
motors running and wait in comparative comfort.

Ten minutes later Bill was fed up. Not the most patient man by
nature, he was ready to jump out of the car and run the half-mile up
to the first cop he could find, and shake some urgency into him.  He
muttered, "I'm gonna see what's taking so long..." But as he put out
his hand to grasp the door handle Mulder, who had been staring
intently out the side window, stopped him with an urgent hand to his
arm.

"Bill, no!  Don't open the door, or the windows!  Look over there!"
The others turned to see where Mulder was pointing; Scully cried out
in despair and Skinner swore a blue streak... and Bill sat as if
turned to stone and groaned.

For not ten yards from their vehicle, a woman had stepped from her
little VW Beetle, probably just needing to stretch her legs.  Maybe
she had decided to finally give in and brave the heat to save her
aching joints.  In the dark, several other figures moved around
outside their cars and trucks... but as the woman closest to them
shut her door and turned to look in the direction of the pile-up, she
suddenly jumped violently, clutched her leg, and fell to the ground,
convulsing.  Three seconds later a man walking by her open car door
stopped to see what was wrong with her, and as he bent down, he
suddenly slapped at his face - and his entire body stiffened as he
swayed on his feet and then toppled over beside her.

"Shit!  Goddamn it to Hell!"  Skinner hit the over-lock button and
all the door locks engaged; he hurriedly twisted the air flow control
to 'interior circulation' and whipped around in his seat to face
Mulder and Scully, who turned from the window and stared back,
shocked and frightened.

Under his breath, Bill was muttering, "Jesus... where the hell did
they come from?"  For suddenly, there were bees, everywhere - even in
the dark they could see them, outlined by the headlights of so many
cars.  Judging by the faint screams they could hear from the interior
of their car, enough people had been standing out in the night air to
afford the bees quite a healthy sting-fest.  Scully buried her face
in her hands and turned into Mulder's shoulder; he wrapped his arms
tightly around her and his voice was low and hoarse as he spoke.

"We've got to find a way to get out of here.  If they're swarming at
night they'll swarm any old time.  They may have become attracted to
all these headlights or they may just be flying around in a daze
because they've been uprooted and their hives are gone.  It doesn't
matter.  They're just aggressive enough to sting anything that moves -
and I can guarantee the virus is very fast-acting."

As if to prove his very words, a man staggered by the back windows
on Scully's side; as she looked up and out the window, horrified...
he tried to grab onto the door handle and open it.  In the strange
half-illumination outside, his face was a study in abject horror and
fright: mouth gasping open, eyes black with oil and wriggling streams
of it underneath the dead-white skin of his face.  Scully screamed
and jumped back into Mulder's arms, shaking with revulsion. "Sweet
Jesus, no," she moaned. "Not again."  Mulder soothed trembling hands
over her back and tried to calm her down.  Bill shut his eyes from
the gruesome sight outside their windows, and fought down his own
mounting panic.  He turned to Skinner.

"Mulder's right - there has to be a way for us to get out of here -
even if it means driving on the side of the embankment.  I have to
get home - now - God only knows what's happening back there!"

Skinner nodded grimly, and revved the engine to assure the gas gauge
was correct.  They had a little more than half a tank.  They would
have to get more gas; they had no choice.  Skinner was angry at
himself for hanging out here so long, assuming it was just another
pile-up on the highway and the police working the accident would move
it along quickly.  It was now apparent to him what had happened.

"I'll bet somebody was driving along with their window open and a
bee got in somehow and stung them.  Something like that could cause a
chain reaction of crashes - and more than one person could have
become stung.  You can bet your ass that after three hours somebody
would call a high enough authority to get FEMA in here; they've been
busy little assholes lately.  We're getting the fuck out of here."
He popped the emergency brake, revved once and turned the wheel a
hard right - then mashed down the accelerator and effectively pushed
aside the big Lincoln in front if him as if it were an ant.  The
driver inside the luxurious car never moved an inch.  Scully's voice
was hushed in the silent cab.

"Dead.  They're probably all dead... God..."  Mulder shushed her and
she pressed her head back into the curve of his neck, not wanting to
see any more.  She had seen enough death today.

Working his way as carefully as possible, Skinner managed to push
the Lincoln enough to get around it - and found himself with a very
narrow strip of median; barely enough to squeeze by.  There were
water barrels stretching along the edge of the median; these could
really tear up a car and they couldn't afford to damage the
Excursion.  Maneuvering carefully and slowly, they eased forward,
only scraping the barrels once.

Bill watched the road ahead, suddenly calling out to Skinner in
excitement, "Up ahead about a hundred yards!  I see an exit; looks as
if it's been blocked off... what do you think?  Could it be safe
enough to try?"

Skinner ground his teeth in determination as he roared ahead, an
open free area allowing him to gain speed.  "It's gonna have to be
safe enough; we don't have a choice."  And there ahead of them was
indeed an exit; a temporary block placed in front of it and small red
lights flashing intermittently.  The sort of block road workers would
put up for the night if they intended to continue work in the morning
- and it was just lightweight enough for Skinner to ram without
causing any major damage.

And ram it he did - going full-speed, the passengers in the
Excursion bracing themselves, he charged forward and hit it hard.
The block snapped in two and the impact threw everyone forward but
Skinner held onto the steering wheel and they flew through the jagged
remains of the block and roared down the unfinished, bumpy exit.
About fifty yards from the end of the exit the bumps and potholes
turned into broken pavement and large upturned stones; the Excursion
bounced over it easily.  Another five teeth-clattering minutes later
they found themselves dumped onto a small access road. It was narrow
and ridged with cracked blacktop but it was a viable road.  Skinner
floored it and they got the hell out of there.  And inside the cab,
four people drew a collective deep breath of relief, and settled back
in their seats...

Safe again.

******************

They drove for at least thirty minutes, unsure of which direction
they were heading, but desperate to put some miles between themselves
and the pandemonium they had left behind.  As their heart rates
slowed, they began to think more clearly.  Skinner directed Bill to
pull a map out of the glove compartment and they began searching for
road markers.  Finally figuring out where they were, they plotted out
the quickest route back to Norfolk.  Bill looked at the illuminated
dial of his watch and sighed heavily.  Their second escape of the day
had tacked another hour onto the trip.

Scully had curled her legs up onto the seat and was leaning against
the window.  She knew Mulder was worried about her; she could feel
his concerned gaze resting heavily on her.  His warm hand was wrapped
around one of her ankles, his thumb sweeping in soothing strokes over
her skin.  Scully stared dully out of the window but instead of the
passing scenery, she could only see the carnage and horror they had
left behind in South Carolina.

She remembered that the last time she had seen Charlie had been less
than six months earlier.  He had been in D.C. on business and had
taken her and their mother out to dinner.  They had spent the evening
catching up each other's lives and he had proudly pulled an envelope
of pictures out of his briefcase.  Scully had smiled over pictures of
her nieces excitedly tearing into their Christmas gifts or grinning
into the camera as they splashed in the tiny wading pool he had set
up in the yard.  Another photo was of a radiant Jeannie, her hand
smoothing the fabric of her maternity blouse, proudly displaying her
swollen belly for the camera.

She remembered thinking as she had flipped through the photos, that
she shouldn't let so much time go by; that she should make time for
family.  She remembered hugging Charlie goodbye and promising to come
down for a visit when the baby was born. She remembered squealing as
his hands had slipped inside her jacket, tickling her just like he
had done when they were children.  She remembered all of that, but
what she saw in her mind's eye was her beautiful nieces and their
lives cut tragically short.  She saw Jeannie curled protectively
around Katie's tiny body and she wondered at the fear and confusion
her sister-in-law must have felt as she tried to shield her daughter
from her husband.  She saw her mother lying in a pool of blood on the
kitchen floor, fragile and vulnerable in her robe and bare feet.  She
saw her nephew, whom she had never had a chance to hold, his life
snuffed out before it had even started and she saw her little
brother, dead by her own hand. Her eyes burned and her throat ached
as she wondered when this nightmare would be over; knowing that it
had only just begun.

She was startled from her despondent thoughts as Skinner pulled off
of the highway and into a well-lit rest area.  She straightened in
her seat, her whole body pulled taut as he drove the Excursion up to
the gas pumps.  Mulder let go of her ankle and reached for the door
and Scully burst into motion.  Her hands latched onto his arm.  "No!"
she cried as she tightened her grip on him.  "Mulder, no!  Don't go
out there!"  Her eyes were panicked as she looked wildly around the
rest area.  "It's not safe."

Skinner and Bill turned as Mulder eased across the back seat to pull
her into his arms.  She was shivering and he wondered if she had
finally reached her breaking point.  "Shh," he soothed, rocking her
gently in his arms.  She clung to him as she fought to bring herself
back under control.  Mulder ducked his head so that his eyes were
level with hers.  "We're just going to fill up the tank and then
we're going to drive right up to the front doors of the rest
station."  She started to shake her head again.  "Scully," he said
softly.  "We're only going to stop long enough to use the bathrooms.
We've been on the road for hours and we still have a long trip ahead
of us."

Blowing out a quivering breath, she sat back. "Okay," she whispered.
"I'm okay."  She smiled shakily at the two men who were watching her
worriedly from the front seat.  "I'm all right," she reassured them.
"Let's just make this quick."  She nodded at Mulder and he hopped out
of the Excursion, quickly unscrewing the gas cap and stuffing the
nozzle of the gas pump into the tank.  She watched the electronic
numbers on the pump scroll past at a torturously slow pace before the
pump clicked off when the tank was full.  Skinner offered to let the
others go into the rest area first, while he waited with the engine
running.  Scully blinked as they entered the harshly lit building and
Mulder pointed in the direction of the ladies room.  "I'll meet you
out here," he said, nodding toward a vending machine.  She agreed and
disappeared into the ladies room.  When she was finished, she washed
her hands and splashed cold water on her face.  She hurried out of
the bathroom and saw Mulder leaning against the vending machine.
"Where's Bill?" she asked.

Mulder inclined his head toward the door.  "He's back in the truck,"
he explained.

"Well let's go then," she said.

"We're waiting for Skinner.  He should be out in a minute."  She
nodded and for the first time she noticed the blood staining Mulder's
T-shirt in an odd pattern.  Fresh tears flooded her eyes as she
realized that her own bloody hands had caused the stains as she had
clung to him earlier.  Her eyes darted down to her own clothing and
she could see the blood stains there as well.

"We're lucky this place is almost deserted," she said as she lifted
a trembling finger to touch one of the marks on her shirt.  "If
anyone saw this, they would think we had killed somebody."  Her voice
broke on a choked sob and she leaned against him for support.  She
felt his hands move soothingly over her back and she clutched him
tightly in her arms, breathing in his scent and taking strength from
his strong arms and his whispered 'I love you' in her ear.

When Skinner joined them, she stood up straight and eased away from
Mulder's supporting arms.  She kept his hand gripped tightly in hers
and the three of them hurried toward the waiting truck.  Mulder
pulled open the driver's door.  "Why don't you let me drive for a
while," he suggested to Skinner.  His boss nodded and climbed into
the back seat with Bill.  Scully boosted herself into the passenger
seat and buckled the seat belt as Mulder steered the Ford back onto
the highway.

***********

The sky was pink with the early morning sun as they took the final
exit that would bring them into Norfolk.  Scully was leaning forward
in her seat, as if willing the miles to disappear faster.  From the
corner of her eye, she could see Bill nervously rocking in his seat.
No one had spoken in the last thirty minutes as they were each lost
in their own thoughts.  And then, finally, they were clearing the
guard shack at the base gate.  Mulder navigated the winding streets
of the naval base as carefully and as quickly as possible and within
minutes they were pulling into the driveway.  Bill took his keychain
from his pocket and used the remote control to open the garage door.
Mulder pulled the Excursion into the two-car garage.  He cut the
engine and all four doors swung open as they spilled from the
interior of the truck.

"Tara?" Bill bellowed as he pushed his way into the kitchen from the
garage.  The house was deathly quiet.  Mulder and Skinner checked the
downstairs as Bill and Scully raced up the steps.  The bedrooms were
empty; all of the beds neatly made.  They ran back down the steps and
met up with Mulder and Skinner in the living room.

"They aren't here," Bill panted, his eyes wide with panic.  Scully
braced a hand on his back and looked around the room, willing Tara
and the children to appear.

"Is there a note?" Mulder asked and Bill ran back into the kitchen
to check the corkboard where Tara always tacked his phone messages.
There was nothing there.

"Tara!" he howled, as fear crawled with icy fingers up his spine.
He ran back into the other room.  "Matthew!  Meggie!  It's Daddy.
Where are you?"  He dropped his head into his hands.  "Oh God," he
said brokenly.  "Where are you?"

Scully was rooted in place in the kitchen.
"Notagainnotagainnotagain," she chanted under her breath.  There was
a sudden noise behind her and she spun, her hands instinctively
reaching for the gun at the small of her back.  She heard a scraping
sound in the corner and she eased across the room to inspect the
source.  "Bill?  Mulder!  You'd better get in here!"

The three men hurried into the room and she heard Bill gasp before
he flew over to the corner.  Kneeling, he lifted a metal ring that
was hidden near the wall and pulled a section of the floor up.
Scully looked at Mulder and Skinner and they realized that this was
the entrance to a cold cellar.  Tara's blonde head appeared at the
top of the steps and Bill lunged forward, pulling her and the
children into view.  He collapsed onto the floor, dragging his family
down with him and smothered them in his arms, pressing frantic kisses
on any part of their bodies he could reach.  The children squirmed
out of his grasp but Tara clung to him tightly.

"Oh God, Bill.  I was so scared," she gasped into his shirt.  Bill
crushed her in his arms and Scully gathered Matty and Meg into her
embrace.

"What happened honey?" Bill asked.  "Why were you hiding in the cold
cellar?"

Tara snuggled into her husband's embrace.  "I was cooking dinner
last night and watching the news.  There was a report about another
attack by a swarm of bees somewhere near Williamsburg.  They said
fifteen people had been rushed to the hospital.  I was just putting
dinner on the table when I looked out of the window and I could see
bees near the flowers.  I panicked.  There were probably no more than
ten or twelve bees - certainly not a swarm.  But I grabbed the kids.
The only place I could think that we might be safe was in the cold
cellar."  Her face was chagrined as she looked up at the others.  "I
feel silly now, but after what you told us yesterday..."

Scully looked at Bill, Mulder and Skinner.  Everything had appeared
normal as they drove through the base.  People were coming and going
on their way to work; the guard waved them through the gate easily.
There was nothing to indicate that anything sinister had happened
here.  However, given the events of the last two days, they weren't
going to take any chances.  Bill pulled Tara to her feet and she took
her first good look at them.

"Oh my God!" she cried out as she took in their blood splattered
clothes.   She looked around the room and out of the window.
"Bill..." she asked slowly.  "Where are your Mom, Charlie and his
family?"  She licked her lips and eyed them nervously.  Her gaze
bounced over Skinner's solemn face to Mulder's pained expression.
Scully had moved closer to Bill and Tara looked into her grief-
stricken eyes and knew.  "Oh.  Oh no," she whispered looking into her
husband's stark features for confirmation.  "Oh sweet Jesus, no."
Bill pulled his wife back into his arms and buried his face in her
hair.  Tara closed her eyes and wept into his shirt. "How?" she asked.

The children seemed frightened by their parents' display of grief
and they clung to Scully's legs.  She knelt back down and gathered
them into her arms, forcing a smile onto her lips for their benefit.

Mulder cleared his throat and stepped forward.  "I'm sorry," he said
gently.  "Bill.  We need to get going."

Bill lifted his head and fine strands of Tara's hair clung to his
damp cheeks.  Tara wiped her face on his shirt and took a step back,
her hands lingering on her husband's chest.  She peered deeply into
his eyes and he nodded to her, letting her know he was going to be
all right.  Scully stood and held the children's hands in her own.

"Tara," she asked in a low voice.  "Did you pack the things we
talked about yesterday?"

Tara nodded distractedly.  "Yeah... I um... while the kids took
their nap yesterday, I pulled everything out."

Scully nodded approvingly.  "That's good.  Where is everything?"

Tara waved a hand toward the garage.  "I put the suitcases in the
back of the minivan," she said.

Skinner stepped forward.  "Then let's make this fast.  Bill, Mulder -
why don't you change into clean shirts.  Same goes for you Scully."
The others nodded and hurried upstairs.  Bill pulled two T-shirts out
of a drawer and handed one to Mulder while Tara drew a clean blouse
out of her closet and gave it to her sister-in-law.  Bill tugged the
T-shirt over his head and he and Tara went back downstairs.  A
strange humming noise from outside captured Scully's attention and
she pulled back the curtains to take a look, her heart rising in her
throat.  Bees.  Dozens of them, swarming in a neighbor's yard.
"Mulder," she called and he came over to the window.  They bolted
from the room.

"We've got to get out of here now," Scully yelled as she flew down
the stairs.

"Dana!  What is it...?" Tara cried out.  Her eyes widened as the
buzzing sound grew louder.  The adults burst into motion.  Bill and
Tara scooped the children up and they all raced into the garage.
Skinner had found a can of kerosene in the corner of the garage and
he and Mulder were soaking rags in the liquid and stuffing them into
the cracks of the garage door to keep the bees at bay.  Scully yanked
open the rear door of the minivan and hauled out the suitcases that
Tara had packed and quickly stowed them in the back of the Excursion
while Tara tried to unbuckle the children's car seats from the van.

Skinner climbed into the truck and started the engine.  "Come on!
Hurry," he urged them.

Mulder pushed Bill toward the Ford and turned to Tara.  "There's no
time Tara.  Leave them!" he shouted.  She nodded and hopped out of
the van.   Bill climbed into the third seat of the truck and helped
his wife in.  Mulder scooped up Megan and swung himself up into the
Excursion, handing the screaming baby to her mother.  Scully was
standing by the side of the truck, ready to hand Matty into Mulder's
waiting arms.  Her terrified eyes were fixed on the garage door and
she watched in horror as one bee wiggled its way through a gap around
the door.

"Oh God," she gasped.  "Here they come."

********************
end of chapter nine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Eight ~

The Excursion ate up the miles and spit them out in a flume of
exhaust, quiet engine reflecting the equally-quiet interior of the
vehicle.  In the spacious back seat Scully slept like the dead.  Once
the rush of adrenaline from their escape had worked its way out of
her tired body she'd crashed hard, actually snoring very softly.
Mulder stared out the windshield and tried to hold in a tired grin.
The sound of that tiny little snorting snore was so endearing...  He
turned his head a bit and caught Skinner eyeing him sideways as he
drove on through the darkness, the electronic dashboard display
casting a greenish glow over his stern features.  Skinner cleared his
throat and his voice was low and gruff.

"Didn't know Agent Scully snored..."  Mulder shook his head and the
grin broke free and wreathed his face as he replied in an equally low
voice.

"Neither did I.  Must be that sleeping pill she took earlier,
before... well, before.  She'd had about three hours of heavy sleep
under the influence, then I had to get her on her feet in a hurry and
I guess her instincts took over."  Mulder rubbed at his tired eyes
and refilled both their cups; Skinner had remembered he carried a
large thermos in the vehicle and they had stopped at a Stop N Go and
had filled it with hot coffee.  He handed Skinner a full cup and his
AD grunted his thanks, draining half the hot liquid and holding out
the cup for a top-off, before speaking again.

"Agent Mulder - did you recognize any of those men, or weren't you
able to see them clearly?  If we could establish who'd sent them -"
Mulder interrupted him with a firm shake of his head.

"No.  I didn't see their faces.  But I know who - or should I say
'what' - they are.  Consortium go-fors; that's what I figure.  They
may have been human or they may have been alien.  Maybe a little of
both.  Doesn't matter. They meant to kill us and leave no evidence
behind."

"How did you know to get out of there so quickly?"  Skinner was
curious.  Mulder shrugged, unwilling to talk about his dream, knowing
how strange it would sound to anyone else.  And yet, Skinner had seen
some things in his seven years with him and Scully... he decided to
try it.

"I had a dream, Sir..."  And he proceeded to tell it.

Ten minutes later Skinner gulped down another half cup of now-tepid
coffee, shot Mulder a frowning glance and commented, "You know,
Mulder... most guys have hot dreams when they're sleeping in the
vicinity of the woman they love.  But not you, huh?"

Hearing the word 'love' popping out of his bosses' mouth so casually
about gave Mulder heart failure and he almost dropped his coffee in
astonishment.  How...?  The look on his face must have been priceless
even in the dim green of the front cab.  Skinner caught it and barked
out a snicker.

"Jesus, Mulder!  How stupid do you think I am?  You're together at
some ungodly hour on a weeknight running through the streets of DC
with killers on your asses - and Agent Scully's in her jammies.
What else could it be, if not love?"  Skinner shook his head and
laughed when Mulder's jaw dropped again.

"Look, it's okay, Agent.  The whole fucking world could come
crashing down around our ears any day now.  If you can find someone
special in that kind of disaster, then I say go for it.  You and
Scully are very lucky.  Never forget that."  And with one hard nod in
Mulder's general direction, Skinner turned his attention back to the
road, fiddling with the radio until he found a station playing soft
blues. Mulder relaxed in his seat and brought the cup to his mouth,
smiling as he drank his coffee... thoughtful.

Relaxed, for the first time in days.  Somehow, it was going to be
all right. Odd, but with Skinner's approval came a feeling of safety
along with the acceptance.  And in that one moment it dawned on
Mulder just how much importance he'd placed on his AD's blessing.
Now, more than ever it wasn't just Mulder and Scully against the
world.  Skinner had joined the fray.

It was comforting...

They drove on through the night.

**********

Scully awoke slowly, stretching luxuriously.  She dragged her eyes
open and smiled sleepily at Mulder who was perched on the edge of the
bed.

"Good morning," he said softly.

"Morning," she mumbled, fighting to suppress a yawn.  She relaxed
into the pillows again, her eyes drifting closed until she remembered
the events of the previous evening and sat up with a gasp.  "Mulder,
where are we?" she asked, looking wildly around the unfamiliar room.

Mulder eased her back against the pillows.  "Skinner and I figured
that we would be at Bill's house around five-thirty in the morning if
we drove straight through and we were both pretty tired.  We decided
to stop here for the night and get some sleep."

"Oh," she said, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his waist
and rest her cheek on his shoulder.  "Good idea."

Mulder slid his hands under her shirt and Scully arched her spine,
enjoying the feel of his big hands running over her back.  She was
considering the possibility of going back to sleep for a little while
longer when there was a tap at the door.  Skinner walked in carrying
a cardboard tray filled with coffee cups and two bags.

"Coffee," he said, setting the tray onto the table by the door.
Scully gasped and flung herself out of Mulder's arms, hastily pulling
up the sheet and drawing her knees up to her chest.  Skinner popped
the lid from one cup and took a sip of the steaming liquid.  "There's
a convenience store across the street," he said.  "I also bought
bagels, the morning paper, toothpaste and some toothbrushes."  He
rummaged through one of the bags and withdrew a plastic encased
toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.  "Good morning, Agent
Scully," he said as he passed her on the way to the bathroom.

Mulder tried to pull Scully back into his arms, but she squirmed out
of his grasp.  "Mulder!" she said, throwing a worried look at the
bathroom door.  "Stop it!"

"It's all right, Scully," Mulder told her.  "He knows about us."
She glared at him and Mulder threw his hands up.  "Hey," he defended
himself.  "He figured it out on his own last night."  Scully
continued to resist his attempts to pull her back into his embrace,
nervously eyeing the bathroom door.  "Scully."  Mulder pressed two
fingers against her jaw, forcing her to look at him.  "Relax, he
approves.  In fact, he gave me his blessing last night."

Scully sighed and nodded, grateful that she wouldn't have to face
Skinner's disapproving face all day long.  "Okay," she said,
relieved.  "But I can't parade around in front of my boss dressed
like this."  She plucked at her skimpy clothes in agitation.  Mulder
grinned at her and stared admiringly at the cropped shirt.

"Scully, you're wearing more clothes than you would if you were at
the beach!" he reasoned.  "I think you look great."

"Since I have no intention of ever wearing a bathing suit in front
of our boss, that isn't exactly comforting," she hissed.  Scully
scrambled out of bed and stood in front of him.  "Mulder, look at me!"

Mulder felt a surge of lust curl low in his belly as his gaze
skimmed over the soft, natural shape of her breasts, down to the peek-
a-boo glimpse of smooth skin exposed beneath the hem of her shirt
before settling on her bare feet - and he realized that she had a
point.

"Scully," he said reasonably.  "He knows I had to drag you out of
bed last night."  She moaned and buried her face in her hands.

"We were running for our lives," he reminded her.  "It's not like we
had time to pack."  She nodded unhappily.  Mulder tried again.
"Skinner is a gentleman and he's always treated you with respect.
That isn't going to change just because he saw you in your pajamas."
He looked at her reassuringly.  "Want some coffee?" he asked.

She followed him to the table and carefully moved one of the chairs
behind the table, settling herself into it.  "Don't smirk, Mulder,"
she said as she caught him hiding a smile behind his coffee cup.
"I'd like to see how you would react if you had to spend the day with
him wearing nothing but your boxers!"

Mulder choked on his coffee and Scully resisted the childish urge to
stick her tongue out at him.  Instead she took the only cinnamon-
raisin bagel out of the bag and was nibbling on it delicately when
Skinner emerged from the bathroom.

"Good morning, Sir," she said calmly, gathering courage from her
hiding place behind the table.

They ate quickly and Scully gave Mulder a grateful look as he
arranged a little private time for her to get ready.  "Sir, why don't
we take the truck across the street to the convenience store?  We can
fill up the gas tank and refill the thermos while Scully calls Bill
to let him know we'll be early."

Skinner palmed his keys and ambled out to the parking lot.  "Thank
you," Scully whispered as she pressed a grateful kiss to Mulder's
lips.

"We'll wait for you outside," he told her; kissing her gently, he
headed for the door.  She quickly washed up and brushed her teeth,
then used her fingers to try to smooth the worst of the tangles in
her hair.  Next she called Bill and informed him that they would be
there shortly, telling him that she would explain why when they got
there.  Hanging up the phone, she slid her feet into her sneakers and
tugged down the hem of her shirt before opening the door.  Mulder was
standing alongside the car and Skinner was intently studying a map as
she stepped out in the morning sun.  Her lips tilted upward in a fond
glance at both men as she climbed into the back of the car.

*********

Thirty-five minutes later they pulled into the driveway of Bill and
Tara Scully's house.  Bill was waiting at the door and stepped
outside as Scully hopped down to the ground.  "Bill," she cried as
she hurried to her brother.  Bill leaned down and wrapped a strong
arm around her waist, lifting her until her feet dangled an inch or
two above the ground.  Mulder rounded the car and leaned against the
hood, watching a tiny smile bloom across Scully's face as her brother
whispered something in her ear.

He set her down onto the driveway and pushed her back so that he
could get a better look at her.  "Dana," he asked.  "Why are you
wearing your pajamas?"

She grimaced.  "It's a long story - I'll tell you about it inside."
Bill slung an arm around his sister's shoulders and turned to face
the two men waiting by the car.  Scully drew her brother forward.
"Bill, I believe you've met my boss, Assistant Director Walter
Skinner."  The two men nodded and shook hands.  "And, of course, you
know Mulder."  She tilted her face up to her brother and shot him a
warning glance.  Bill bared his teeth at her in a parody of a smile
and held out his hand to Mulder.

"Mulder."

Mulder clasped the other man's hand. "Good to see you, Bill."

Bill grunted noncommittally.  "Let's go in the house," he said.  He
pushed open the screen door and they filed into the house.  Tara
stepped into the living room and hurried over to the small group
gathered by the door.

"Dana!" she exclaimed, hooking one arm around Scully's shoulders and
brushing her lips across her cheek.  "You look... Dana - why are you
wearing your pajamas?" she asked in confusion.

Scully groaned and returned Tara's kiss.  "Give me a minute and
we'll tell you.  But first..." She held out her arms and Tara
transferred her eighteen-month-old daughter into her aunt's care.

"Hey Meggie," Scully murmured, bouncing the child in her arms.
"It's Aunt Dana.  Can you say hi?"  The baby pulled her fist from her
mouth and waved glistening fingers at her aunt.  Scully laughed and
lifted her over her head, kissing the baby's belly and making her
shriek with glee.

"Aunt Dana!"  Little feet galloped down the stairs and three-year-
old Matthew Scully raced into view. Scully handed her niece back to
Tara and bent down to scoop him up, grunting as she hefted his sturdy
body in her arms.  "Whoa, Matty!  You're getting huge.  Pretty soon,
you're gonna be taller than me!"

Bill muttered something under his breath and Scully turned her head
toward him.  "I heard that, Bill.  No short jokes," she warned.
Turning back to her nephew, she said.  "Tell him, Matty.  No picking
on Aunt Dana."  The little boy giggled and buried his face against
her shoulder.  Scully closed her eyes and rested her cheek against
his hair, swaying back and forth.

"Um, Dana?" Tara asked.  "You were going to tell us why you're
wearing your pajamas," she reminded her sister-in-law.  Scully opened
her eyes and looked over Matty's head at Mulder.  The smile faded
from her face and she turned to her brother and his wife.  "We need
to talk," she said solemnly.

Tara looked at her son.  "Matty, Blue's Clues is coming on in a
minute.  Why don't you take your sister into the other room to watch
it?"  Matthew's head popped up from Scully's shoulder.  "Don't I get
a kiss?" Scully asked her nephew as he squirmed to be put down.
Matty screwed up his lips and planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.
She set him down and he grabbed his baby sister by the hand and
dragged her toward the other room.  Tara looked at her sister-in-law
and the two men towering over her on either side and gestured toward
the kitchen.  "I made coffee.  Let's sit down."

******

"Jesus," Bill swore, pushing his cup away.   Tara's eyes were wide.
"Soldiers?" she asked.  "United States military?"

Scully nodded, looking back and forth between her brother and his
wife.  Fixing her gaze on her brother, she spoke.  "Bill, I know you
don't want to believe any of this.  I resisted for years.  But I
cannot deny the evidence.  The threat is real and imminent."

Bill shook his head.  "I believe..." His jaw worked as he marshaled
his thoughts.  "I believe that the two of you stumbled into
something.  Something that the government doesn't want you to know.
Somebody wants you to be quiet and they are willing to kill you to do
so."  Bill could not refute this part of their story.  The arrival of
his always impeccably dressed sister on his doorstep wearing her
pajamas and a hunted look was all the proof he needed on this point.
"I'm grateful that you were there to get Dana out of the house
safely," he said directing his gaze at Mulder.

Scully knew it took a lot from Bill to thank Mulder.  She was well
aware of the fact that Bill thought Mulder was the reason she was in
danger in the first place.  She rose from her chair and stood next to
Mulder.  Stroking her fingers through his hair, she let her hand
settle warmly on the back of his neck.  Mulder tilted his face up to
hers, surprised by her sudden public display of affection, and
wrapped his arm around her legs, anchoring her at his side.  Their
embrace was easy, affectionate.  Comfortable.  Scully turned her
attention back to her brother and raised her brows challengingly.
She was determined that Bill understand and accept the fact that
Mulder was a permanent part of her life.  Mulder, Tara and Skinner
watched the silent battle between the siblings until Bill finally
huffed out a disgusted breath.

He broke away from his sister's fierce look. "As I was saying, I am
grateful to you for Dana's safety, but as for the rest of the
story..." He shook his head and looked back at his sister.  "Killer
bees.  An alien invasion that you think dates back to the time of
Christ..."

"It probably goes back further than that," Mulder interrupted.  "But
that was the earliest documented evidence we were able to find."

Bill rolled his eyes.  "It sounds like something from a science
fiction movie," he muttered.

Scully spoke again.  "Look. We aren't going to settle anything right
now.  I'd like to get on the road so that we can get to Charlie's as
soon as possible."  She turned to her sister-in-law.  "Tara, do you
think I could borrow some clothes?" she asked.

Tara pushed her chair away from the table and stood, sending her
husband a warning glance.  "Sure.  Let's see what we can find," she
told Scully.  Looking back over her shoulder, she spoke to her
husband.  "Bill, it's too quiet in the other room.  Why don't you go
see what the kids are up to."

Scully followed Tara upstairs.  Tara pulled a pair of shorts out of
a drawer, as well as a clean pair of underwear.  "These should fit
you," she said, holding out the shorts to Scully.  "This way, we
won't have to worry about the length," she said, noting Scully's
shorter legs.

"Thanks," Scully took the clothes into her hands.

Tara was rooting through her closet.  "I don't think my bras will
fit you," she called out.

"Probably not," Scully sighed.

Tara emerged from the closet and nearly laughed at the wistful
expression on Scully's face as she compared her petite build to her
sister-in-law's more ample proportions.  Tara lowered her mouth to
Scully's ear.  "Mulder seems content," she whispered
conspiratorially, handing her a short-sleeved denim shirt.  "Here.  I
think you'll feel a little more covered up in this than you would in
a T-shirt."

Scully's cheeks had flushed when Tara mentioned Mulder.  She cleared
her throat.  "I... uh... I'm just going in there to get changed," she
said, escaping into the master bathroom.  She emerged a few minutes
later, happy to be dressed in clean clothes.  "Thanks for the loan,
Tara," she smiled.  Tara handed her a hairbrush and Scully walked
over to the mirror on the dresser to bring some order to her hair.
Tara sat down on the bed and regarded Scully in the mirror.

"Dana," she began slowly.  "Don't worry about Bill."  Scully frowned
into the mirror.  "I mean don't worry about what Bill thinks about
Mulder," Tara continued. Scully put down the brush and turned to face
Tara, who gave her a tiny smile.  "He takes his role as older brother
and protector very seriously."

Scully laughed softly.  "That's one way to put it."

Tara's smile was sympathetic.  "He wants you to be safe.  Wait!
Hear me out," she said as Scully moved impatiently.  "He wants you to
be safe," she repeated.  "But mostly, he wants you to be happy."
Scully sighed and shook her head.  "I can see that Mulder makes you
happy.  It's obvious to anyone who is looking how much you love each
other.  When Bill sees that - and someday, I promise you, he will -
when he sees how happy you are with Mulder, then he'll accept him."
She leaned back, bracing her hands on the mattress.  "Now," she said,
glancing quickly toward the door.  "If you don't mind indulging me in
a few minutes of girl talk, I want to know... how is it?" She smiled
impishly at her sister-in-law.

Scully flushed again and she looked down at the floor.  "Oh, Tara.
It's not like that.  We haven't..." Tara seemed surprised and Scully
sank down onto the mattress next to her.

"Why not?" Tara asked gently, all traces of a teasing smile gone
from her face.  "You've been living together.  You obviously adore
one another.  So what's holding you back?"

Scully ran one finger along the side seam of the shorts she was
wearing.  "We had only decided to take a chance on a more personal
relationship a few weeks before all of this happened."  She sighed.
"I don't know, Tara.  The timing has always been wrong."

Tara picked up Scully's hand. "Listen, Dana," she said earnestly.
"You never know what's going to happen.  If you wait for the perfect
moment... well there is no such thing."

Scully nodded.  "I know."

The two women were quiet for a few moments and then Tara lifted her
head.  "Dana, I need to ask you one more thing."

Scully looked up expectantly.

"Everything you told us downstairs... the bees, the corn, the
ali...aliens," Tara stumbled over the incomprehensible thought.  "Do
you really believe all of that?"  Scully nodded, reaching out a hand
to grip her sister-in-law's cold fingers.

"Tara," she began.  "I have never wanted to be wrong about anything
as much as I want to be wrong about this but, yes.  I do believe it.
The world as we know it is going to cease to exist."

Tara trembled and her pretty green eyes filled with tears.  "God,
Dana.  What are we going to do?"

Scully gripped her hands tightly.  "We're going to survive," she
said fiercely.  "We're going to get Mom, Charlie, Jeannie and the
kids and we're coming back here.  Then we're all going to leave this
place together."

Tara looked up, fear and hope warring in her eyes.  "And go where?"
she asked.

"North, for sure.  The bees and the virus can't survive the cold,"
Scully explained.  "Tara, while we're gone you need to start getting
ready.  Dig out the kids' winter clothes - snowsuits, thermals,
boots, and gloves.  Pack sweaters, jeans and heavy socks and then do
the same for you and Bill."

Tara looked up with frightened eyes.  "Oh God.  Dana..."  Scully
took hold of her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

"Mulder, Director Skinner and I will do our best to convince the
others that we have to go, but Tara..." her gaze was determined.  "In
the end, it may be up to you to convince Bill.  He listens to you.
He may fight you, but you have to stay strong.  You have to, Tara.
If you want Matty and Meg to have a chance to grow up, you have to
convince him to go."

Tears streamed down Tara's face and Scully was afraid that she had
pushed her sister-in-law too hard.  But Tara was a military wife and
she was made of sturdy stuff.  She took a deep breath and visibly
pulled herself together.  "Okay," she sniffed.  "Okay."

Scully handed her a wad of tissues.  "All right then.  One more
thing and then we're going to get going."  She stared into Tara's
eyes.  "While we're gone, I want you to keep the children in the
house.  Lock the doors and the windows.  The bee attacks have been
random so far and there's no way to know where or when they'll strike
next.  Mulder and I believe that a series of large scale attacks will
begin over Labor Day."  She paused and took a deep breath.  "That's
less than three weeks from now, Tara."  She pulled her sister-in-law
close and wrapped her arms around her.  "No matter what happens, I
promise you that we'll be back here for you and the children
tomorrow."

********

Although she had slept soundly the night before, Scully's eyes grew
heavy with the hypnotic blur of trees and other cars rushing past the
window.  They had been on the road a little over three hours and the
air in the car was rife with tension.  Sitting next to his sister in
the back seat, Bill was brooding over the information that she,
Mulder and Skinner had given to him and Tara earlier in the day and
the others were reluctant to push him any further.  Skinner glanced
into the rearview mirror and then caught Mulder's eye, gesturing
toward the back seat.  Mulder looked over his shoulder to find Scully
fighting to stay awake.  Her head would fall forward and she would
quickly jerk it back up, her eyes opening briefly before sliding
closed again.

"Scully," he called softly.  Her head lifted at the sound of his
voice.  "Why don't you get comfortable and go to sleep.  You still
have a little catching up to do and we won't be at Charlie's for
hours yet."

Scully shook her head.  "I'm fine," she protested, sitting up and
forcing her eyes open.  Bill's sigh was exasperated.  He reached over
and slipped her sneakers from her feet.  "Come on," he said.  "Curl
up and get some sleep."  He adjusted her seat belt so that she would
be comfortable.  "Go to sleep, Dana.  We'll wake you before we get to
Charlie's."

Bill's gaze met Mulder's briefly before sliding back to stare
sightlessly out of the window.

*********

She awoke a few hours later to arguing voices.  She kept her face
pressed against the window and could feel her pulse begin to pound
behind her closed eyes.

"Look, Bill!" Mulder said hotly.  "Don't you think I want to keep
her safe too?  Knowledge is what is going to save us.  The fact that
she knows what is going to happen will help her to survive."

Bill swore softly.  "You know, you really kill me Mulder.  My sister
had a promising career ahead of her until she was partnered up with
you.  From the first day you met, you've been dragging her from one
dangerous situation into another.  And now!  Now you've got her
actually believing all of the crazy shit that you've been spouting
for years..."

"Stop it!"  Scully's voice was quietly commanding.  "Just stop it."
She rolled her forehead against the glass and drew in a shuddering
breath.  Turning toward her brother, she looked at him solemnly.
"Bill, I know that you love me and that you want what is best for me.
You've known me all of my life.  Look at me."  His eyes flicked
toward her briefly before sliding away.  "Bill!" she said through
clenched teeth.  He turned his head to meet her gaze.  "Look at me,"
she said again.  "Do you really think I'm crazy?" she asked in
disbelief.

Her brother hung his head.  "No.  I know you're not crazy."

She laid her hand over his.  "I know what is going on inside of you,
Bill.  The fear.  The denial.  But blaming Mulder isn't going to
change what's going to happen; what is happening.  If you listen to
him... if we work together, we might find a way to live through
this."  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.  "I love him, Billy...
and I need him.  He's not going away so you'd better learn to deal
with it." She sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose
and turned her attention to Mulder.  "As for you," she said leaning
forward.  "He's my big brother and he's spent a lifetime trying to
protect me.  So you'd better learn to deal with that."

**************************

About twenty miles outside of Charlotte they stopped for food and
gas, stocking up on snack-type items and bottled water.  No one felt
like eating in a restaurant and the overall mood of the group was
subdued.  They were tired, as well - Skinner had insisted on driving
the entire way and Mulder hadn't been inclined to argue.  Bill had
been mostly quiet, especially after Scully's declaration of a few
hours past.  She'd stood up to her big brother again, for him - this
time letting her feelings be known not only in front of Bill but
Skinner as well.  Mulder's heart had been so bursting with love for
her that even her stern admonishment to figure out a way to deal with
her brother's attitude... well, it just glossed over him lightly.

His Scully... she loved him.  Publicly she'd said it, and he'd read
the words in her eyes, too.  And in spite of the rockiest, most
unsure future he'd ever experienced, Mulder felt like the luckiest
guy in the world.

He sat in the open doorway of the big Ford and watched her walk
across the parking lot toward him, hands laden with plastic bags of
what Skinner the ex-Marine had disparagingly referred to as 'pogey-
bait'.  He'd wandered off toward a nearby Burger King with orders of
hamburgers and fries - "real food", as he'd so subtly put it, for him
and for Bill, who was now standing next to the gas pump topping the
tank off.  Replacing the hose, Bill glanced up just in time to see
the naked love on his sister's face as she drew nearer to the vehicle
and saw Mulder gazing at her; swinging that glance to Mulder he
couldn't help but see the look returned a hundred-fold.  He cleared
his throat gruffly and Mulder tore his eyes from Scully with
reluctance and faced her brother.

"Mulder, tell me the truth.  How much danger are we really in?"
Bill's voice was low and calm, but Mulder could hear the worry
beneath the surface.  Bill was trying to be strong but Mulder knew he
had to be going out of his mind where Tara and the kids were
concerned.  It had taken all his will to get in the car and leave
them behind when they left Norfolk.  Bill deserved to know the
unsugared, unvarnished truth, Mulder decided, as he turned to face
the big tough Naval officer.

"A lot of danger, Bill -  I won't lie to you and I refuse to candy-
coat it.  Within three weeks there will be a massive widespread
outbreak of bees and the beginning of a planned Armageddon of the
human race.  Each bee is carrying a lethal virus, for which the
modern world has no defense and no likely cure.  At one time there
was a very weak vaccine against the virus.  I don't know if that
vaccine is still available."  Mulder eyed Bill Scully, wondering how
much stark honesty the man could handle... figuring he may as well go
for it.  As Scully stopped in the middle of the parking lot to wait
for Skinner who also had his hands full of food, Mulder spoke rapidly.

"Your sister and I have both been exposed to the virus.  Scully was
infected much worse than I and the vaccine was administered to her,
with obvious success.  At this point we're not sure but we think
we're both immune.   The bees that carry the virus are Africanized
honeybees, which means they will sting without much provocation.  One
sting is all it takes, Bill - just one.  And I figure you will have
trouble swallowing any and all of this truth until you see it for
yourself... and although I know we'll be witness to it sooner or
later I really hope you'll be spared the sight of what the virus does
to a human being."

There wasn't time to say much more; Scully and Skinner were now
walking to the car.  Bill nodded, once; murmured, "It's a lot to
accept, Mulder... a lot.  But I appreciate your honesty.  As for what
I can swallow - well, we'll have to see."  Mulder nodded and opened
the doors, helping Scully maneuver the bags and herself into the high-
sitting vehicle.  She eyed both men suspiciously as she fastened her
seatbelt and accepted a bottled water from Mulder.

"What have you guys been discussing?"  Bill shrugged and climbed in
beside her, his bland gaze meeting Mulder's equally non-committal
expression.  Skinner stopped fastening his belt and stared at all
three of them. Mulder calmly got into the driver's seat and started
the Excursion, replying in typical Mulder monotone.

"This and that, Scully - mostly that.  A lot of that, actually..."
Bill grunted in affirmation.  Scully's narrowed gaze took in the look
that passed between her men, and her voice held an ominous ring as
she ripped the cap off her water bottle.

"Bill, you better not have been fighting again -"  Her brother's
aggrieved sigh filled the confines of the Ford.

"Jeez!  I get blamed for everything..."

*******************

The miles wore on, through the north-central section of South
Carolina.  They stayed on the Interstate most of the way and made
decent enough gas mileage not to need another pit stop.  Skinner and
Bill dozed some of the way; Scully managed to stay awake and spent a
great deal of time staring out the window occasionally leaning
forward and stroking gentle fingers over Mulder's neck as he sat in
the driver's seat and kept a steady sixty-five MPH.  They didn't
speak much, each immersed in their own thoughts.  Mulder knew Scully
was very worried, although she was outwardly calm.  He knew all the
signs: subtle lip-chewing, light drumming of her tapered fingertips
on the armrest between her and Bill, an occasional sigh.  She hid it
well but it was hard to get the mind to stop grinding out possible
scenarios and other associated shit. Mulder had tried his best, to no
avail.

He didn't have any family left to cause him to worry.  In itself a
sobering thought, nevertheless it was a relief and a pity all rolled
into one.  Maybe that was why becoming close to Scully's family had
become so vital to him... it was really all he had left besides
Skinner and the guys.  If they were to make it up north, really make
it - they would have to evolve into a new family, of sorts.  And they
would have to welcome and enfold into their tight sphere anyone else
who needed a haven; needed hope.

About fifteen miles from Myrtle Beach Mulder pulled into a rest stop
and consulted the map that Bill had drawn, of the directions to
Charlie's place.  On the outskirts of the city proper, it looked to
be about a mile from the beach.  1874 De LaCroix, didn't appear to be
that difficult to find.  He opened the door and hopped down, taking a
few minutes to stretch his legs; Bill and Skinner did the same on the
other side of the big Ford, and Scully also grabbed an opportunity to
stretch and snuggle with Mulder for a few minutes.  She leaned
against him, front to front; Mulder wound his arms loosely around her
shoulders and nuzzled her hair.  His voice was a tired vibration
against her temple.

"You okay, Scully?  We're almost there.  Another twelve miles or so.
Do you want to call ahead?"  Scully shook her head and kept her cheek
pressed to Mulder's shoulder.

"It wouldn't do any good; I already tried a few times as we've been
driving along.  Either the phone is off the hook, or they're all
gone... or something's wrong.  I can't shake this feeling of doom,
Mulder.  Something's horribly wrong."  She stared up into his warm
eyes and fought to contain her rising panic.  "The baby is only two
weeks old... in this heat and humidity they wouldn't be spending this
much of time away from the house!  I have such a bad feeling..."  She
buried her face against his neck and Mulder sighed and rocked her in
his arms, feeling the worry and helplessness surging inside of him as
well.  He had to remain calm for her - it wouldn't do to let himself
weaken just when she needed his strength the most.

Around the corner of the Ford Bill had appeared, taking in the sight
of his usually unflappable sister quietly flipping out in her
partner's arms, and the glance he sent Mulder's way was equally
disturbed.  Mulder gave a small shake of his head, mouthing to Bill,
"Take her," and Bill nodded and stepped forward to wrap an arm around
Scully's shoulders as Mulder set her away from him with a whispered,
"Please don't worry, Scully..."  Bill could see her spine stiffen and
her features even out into a bland mask - before she attempted a
smile for Mulder and let her brother pull her over to the car.

Mulder sighed heavily and got back into the driver's seat; as he
started the engine his eyes met Skinner's, and both men nodded.  This
was it - and they could only hope that when they reached Charlie
Scully's house everything would be fine.  They'd be out back, maybe
having a picnic or a cook-out... the baby would be chubby and
hairless and pink and sweet in his little bassinet in the family
room, and Maggie Scully would be rocking him gently... Charlie and
Jeannie would have the two girls on a swing-set in the back yard and
the high sweet giggle of their little-girl voices would be a wonder
to hear... the air would be thick with the good smells of charring
beef.  Mulder could almost smile at the mental image he fed himself,
as the big Ford scarfed up the remaining ten miles to De LaCroix
Street.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the circular driveway of a
modest Cape Cod-style saltbox, with neatly trimmed foxbriar hedges
and two large magnolias dripping with blooms decorating the front
lawn.  The doors were closed and the window blinds drawn - and as
Mulder climbed down and went around the side to open Scully's door,
he noticed the dead quiet.  No humming of the centralized air
conditioner that sat on the roof of the house... and it was at least
ninety sweltering degrees outside and the humidity had to be eighty
or more per cent...

Shit.  This was not good.  Even if they were not home the air
conditioner would be running.  Nobody in their right minds would turn
off centralized air in the heat of the summer, not in the South.

In their right minds...  oh, fuck!

He left Scully at the car and strode up to the front door,
surreptitiously pulling at his Sig; on the other side of him, Skinner
was doing the same... and behind him he could hear Scully's angry
voice, directed at her brother who no doubt had a restraining grip on
her arm: "Bill, let GO!  I have to go in there...!"  Vaguely Mulder
registered Bill's answering, "No, Dana... let them go in first..."

Then Mulder was jiggling the door, which was locked... he was
stepping aside to let Skinner work the lock with one of his picks...
the door was creaking open... it was dim and shadowed in the small
foyer... no sounds at all, anywhere... they took a cautious step into
the house...

And Mulder smelled it first.  And his eyes grew big with mingled
fright and awareness, as he whipped his head around to stare at
Skinner, whose eyes mirrored the same expression... and they
proceeded very cautiously, both fighting to keep down their rising
gorge, at the smell of it; the metallic smell of blood...  Mulder
sent one low command to Bill Scully, standing in the front yard
holding his frightened sister in his trembling arms.

"Bill, Scully... please... stay back, okay?  Don't come in here..."

***************

Mulder's low-voiced plea jolted through Bill causing him to loosen
his grip on Scully long enough for her to break free. "Dana!" he
cried out as she sprinted into the house.  Mulder spun around and
caught her in his arms.  "Please, Scully," he begged.  "Don't go in
there."

She fought wildly to escape his restraining arms. Skinner held Bill
back from barreling ahead and watched as Scully slapped, kicked and
screamed at Mulder, pleading with him to let her go.  Finally, she
sagged in his grip.  Pushing sweat-soaked hair out of her face, she
looked up at her partner. Her eyes were drenched with pain.
"Please," she begged.  "Mulder, please.  You can't protect me from
this.  I need to see."

Mulder nodded reluctantly and Scully gratefully accepted the
supporting arm he wrapped firmly around her waist.  Skinner fell into
step beside Bill as the foursome made their way further into the
house.  Rounding the corner of the living room, Scully's knees
buckled and a low moan escaped her.  "Oh no.  Oh, Jeannie," she
whispered as she knelt down beside her fallen sister-in-law.  Jeannie
Scully was lying face down on the hardwood floor and Scully reached
out to grasp her shoulder and pull her onto her back.  Her hand flew
up to cover her mouth.  "Dear God, no," she sobbed.  Wrapped in her
mother's arms was two-year-old Katie.  The little girl's eyes were
closed and if it hadn't been for the fact that her silky blonde hair,
so like her mother's, was matted with blood, one would almost believe
she was sleeping.  Scully reached out with trembling fingers,
searching in vain for a pulse.  Shaking her head, she buried her face
against Mulder's shoulder.

A low cry from across the room drew their attention to where Bill
was standing.  Bending down, he lifted four-year-old Rachel from the
sofa cushions.  A small arm dangled lifelessly as Bill clutched the
child to his chest and her auburn hair streamed over his arm.  His
face was ashen, tears streaking his cheeks; the grief in his eyes was
terrible to behold.

Scully stumbled to her feet.  "Mom?" she called.  "Charlie?  Where
are you?"  Her voice quivered.  "Charlie!"  She pulled away from
Mulder's grasping hands and raced toward the kitchen. "Mom?  Mom,
answer me!"  Her scream bounced off of the kitchen walls and the
others rushed in only a step behind her.  She was kneeling on the
floor next to her mother.  "Mom... please.  Please, don't..." Her
hands fluttered over the blood-soaked cotton of Margaret Scully's
robe.  "Oh God, Mama, please, please don't leave me."  Bill sank to
the floor, wrapped his hands around his mother's bare feet and
lowered his head, his huge shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.
Scully gathered her mother into her arms and began to rock, keening
sobs tearing through her slender frame.

Skinner pulled off his glasses and roughly wiped his eyes as he
watched his agent cradle her mother close and beg her not to go.
Mulder sank down to his knees on the other side of Margaret's body
and wrapped his arms around both women.  Scully lifted her head to
his shoulder, trembling violently in mingled shock and agonizing
grief. "Oh God, Mulder.  Oh, Mulder.  I don't... I can't take this, I
just can't.. my mom, Mulder, she's my... I can't lose her, not now,
oh, God -" She raised her pounding head and for a moment, her eyes
met Mulder's own tear-filled sorrowful gaze.   Suddenly, she gasped
and her eyes widened.  Moving away from Mulder, she gently lowered
her mother's lifeless body to the tiled floor and looked past his
shoulder.  "Charlie," she breathed.

Everyone turned their heads - and collectively gasped.  Seated on
the floor behind the kitchen table, bathed in the rays of the setting
sun was Charlie Scully.  His clothes were spattered with blood.  He
cradled his two-week-old son, Joshua, in one arm and in the other
hand, he held a gun.  Shakily, Scully crawled on her hands and knees
to him, fresh tears pouring from her eyes.  "Charlie?  Charlie, it's
Dana," she said in a trembling voice.  "Charlie, are you all right?
Is the baby okay?"

Charlie lifted the hand with the gun and Mulder lunged forward to
drag Scully back but she fought him off.  Bill hunched down next to
Mulder and Scully.  "Charlie," he said holding out his hand to his
younger brother.  "We just want to see if you're okay."  He kept his
voice soft.  "Why don't you put down the gun and come out from behind
there?"

Charlie raised his head at the sound of his brother's voice and a
shaft of sunlight fell across his face.  Bill recoiled at the sight
of the black film moving over his eyes and Scully moaned, pressing
back into Mulder's chest.  "Oh, no," she breathed.  Mulder held her
in a protective curve of his body, wishing for far more than just
skin and muscle to protect her from the unimaginable evil that had
torn her family to shreds.

Bill turned to look at her.  "Dana, what is that?" he asked
fearfully.  Her breath was coming in harsh pants and she shook her
head.  "No, no." she whispered.  "Not this, please God... not this, I
can't bear it..."

Mulder leaned down to Bill's ear.  "It's the virus, Bill," he said
softly.  "Charlie's been infected."  He wanted to drag them both out
of the house but they were each frozen in place.  The very horror he
had prayed they would both be spared... and here it was, in a pretty
saltbox house sitting under the late summer sun, sweet magnolias in
the front yard... unspeakable.  A waking nightmare - and they were
all sharing in it.

Bill stared at Mulder in mounting horror, then at his brother.  "Are
you telling me that Charlie... that Charlie did this?  That he
killed... no!  I can't... Jesus Lord, I can't -" His voice broke on a
disbelieving sob.

Charlie lifted the gun.  "No! Charlie, don't!" Scully shrieked.  He
tightened his finger around the trigger, squeezing.  Click. Click.
Click. With each pull of the trigger, her body jerked in Mulder's
arms.   At the last click her body slumped against him and she sobbed
anew. Mulder cradled her and murmured to her in broken hoarse
whispers.

Charlie turned to face his siblings.  The black film swirled eerily,
and then suddenly he stared at them through clear blue eyes.  "It's
empty," he whispered hollowly.  Scully nodded and as Bill leaned
forward, Charlie scuttled back against the wall.  "Stay back," he
pleaded.  Bill aborted his forward movement but held out his hand.
"Please, Charlie. Let us help you."

Charlie shook his head and turned his attention back to his sister.
"Dana." His voice was pleading.  Scully shuddered in pain; she
knew... somehow knew what was coming.  But Bill, oh God, Bill... he
still didn't have a clue.  There was no way she could spare him.  No
way she could spare herself.

Bill lifted his hands soothingly and carefully leaned forward again.
"Charlie, give me the baby.  Let Dana see if he's okay."

Charlie trembled violently and lowered his lips to the baby's
forehead.  "He's dead."  His eyes were devastated when he looked back
up.  "I killed him." His voice broke.  "God forgive me, I killed them
all."

Bill swiped his hand over his eyes. He could not fathom this; it was
beyond him.  The big tough Navy officer crumbled in the face of
something too monstrous for him to assimilate.  "Charlie... why?"

Their younger brother swallowed hard and looked down at his son.
Tears spilled from his eyes and fell on the child's sweet infant
cheeks.  Placing the baby gently on the floor, he carefully wrapped
the blood soaked receiving blanket around the still body.  "Dana
understands.  Don't you?"  She nodded, tears slipping from her own
pale cheeks.  "Dana, please.  You have to help me."  He stared into
her eyes and she nodded again and slowly stood.  Her little brother
needed her help.  She'd always helped Charlie when he needed her;
today was no different.

Mulder scrambled to his feet beside her and Bill watched in stunned
disbelief as she pulled her gun from where it was tucked against the
small of her back.  She scrubbed her hand over her cheeks and then
wiped her wet fingers against her shorts.  She was crying steadily,
thick tears wetting her shirt and running into the corners of her
open, sobbing mouth.

"No!"  Bill leapt up and tried to wrestle the gun out of her hands.
Skinner moved forward and wrapped an arm around Bill, forcing him to
step back.  Bill strained against Skinner's hard grip; it was all
Skinner could to do hold onto the big, distraught man.  "Don't!
Dana, don't do it.  For God's sake Dana, its Charlie... it's
Charlie," Bill sobbed.

Scully looked down at the bloodstained figure at her feet and for a
moment, she saw not a killer or a monster, but her baby brother.  She
remembered the day her parents had brought him home from the
hospital.  She had thought he was her own living doll and had fallen
in love with him from the first moment she had laid eyes on him.
She'd learned how to feed him a bottle and change his diapers...
learned how to love a child unconditionally, when she received her
Charlie into her little-girl arms.  He had always been hers, more
than Missy's, more than Bill's.  Sometimes more than even their
parents.  She understood him and he likewise had always known her
heart.  God, Charlie... her little brother... and here she stood with
a gun cocked and pointed at his head.  Her hands shook; she couldn't
do this!  She closed her eyes and begged the Heavens above for enough
strength to pull the trigger...

When she looked down again through swimming tears there were those
blue eyes, so like her own; they pleaded with her and she raised the
gun, sighting along the barrel just as she had been trained.

"No," Bill moaned again.  "Dana, please.  It's Charlie."  Skinner
raised a shaky hand and tried to push Bill's face into his broad
shoulder, to shield him from the sight, but Bill wouldn't let him.

Scully raised her gaze to her older brother.  Saw the frozen shock
in those blue Scully eyes.  He didn't know... couldn't know.  Her
poor brother...  "No," she said softly.  "Billy, it's not him.  Not
Charlie... not anymore."  Bill dropped his gaze to Charlie's bloody
face and shuddered as the black film swirling over them once again
obscured the blue of his little brother's eyes.  He nodded once and
turned his face away, allowing Skinner to hold his head securely
against his shoulder.  He clutched at the other man's arms and sobbed
like a child.  Skinner held him tightly and his low broken words of
comfort swirled over him as he cried.

Scully swiped her arm over her streaming eyes and lifted her weapon
again.  She felt Mulder's hand settle on the small of her back, the
warmth of it lending her the needed fortitude - and she straightened
her stance, bracing her body for the recoil of the shot.  "I love
you, Charlie," she whispered as she squeezed the trigger.

The acrid smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air, mixing with the
still-present odor of too much blood - and Scully collapsed into
Mulder's waiting arms.  She clung to him for seconds... minutes...
hours, it seemed.  Mulder could not imagine the sort of strength of
it had taken for Scully to do as her baby brother asked - and he
hoped to God he'd never be asked to perform such a deed for anyone he
loved.  Finally, Scully pulled free of his embrace and turned to
Bill, gently removing him from Skinner's arms.  Gathering her older
brother close, she rocked him as they both sobbed.  "I'm sorry, Bill.
I'm so, so sorry."  Bill shook his head and buried his face in her
hair.  Both of them inconsolable, the loss they had suffered here
today was not to be imagined.

Mulder well knew that sort of loss.  He'd experienced it all: the
loss of a sibling, torn from him when he was still too young to
understand the future of his world; had held a father who bled to
death in his arms, killed by a walking scourge of humanity - had not
been there to comfort and perhaps prevent the voluntary suicide of
his mother.  He'd lost them all and the pain of it bit at him every
day of his life.  The only cushion he'd ever had against that much
hurt, had been Scully.

He hated it that she'd had to be exposed to this.  After all she'd
suffered, over the years - to be subjected to this inconceivable
situation.  It was intolerable; he wanted to maim and mutilate those
who'd brought their world to this.  His hands clenched and unclenched
as he fought to get his murderous rage under control.

Skinner, understanding and worried about what he knew had to be
brewing under Mulder's surface, caught his attention and drew him
away from the grieving siblings.  "Mulder, something's not right."

Mulder looked at the carnage surrounding them and laughed harshly,
dashing hot tears from his face.  He hadn't even felt them as they'd
been shed, he was that numb.  "Yeah, you could say that," he said
bitterly.

Skinner shook his head.  "No, this neighborhood.  Didn't you notice?
There's no sign of life anywhere."  He peered out of the kitchen
window.  "Every house that I can see is shuttered up tight."  Mulder
moved next to his boss and pulled back the curtain, his eyes
searching the street for movement.

"Oh... oh God.  You're right.  This entire neighborhood could be
infected."  He peered out of the window into the lengthening shadows
as the sun sank beyond the horizon, looking for bees - not really
seeing much of anything, even flies.  South Carolina was a buggy
place, but he recalled that bees liked the shade most of the time.
They might not be in plain view but he'd be willing to bet there
would be plenty of them keeping cool in the trees and bushes.

Skinner nodded, also noticing a viable lack of insect movement and
attributing it to the stifling heat.  "If we're right, it won't be
long before other people find out," he said warningly.

Mulder shrugged wearily, feeling an ache in every muscle of his
body.  "They're probably already on their way.  We've gotta get out
of here."  He looked over Skinner's shoulder to see Bill pull away
from Scully and move toward Charlie's still body.

"No! Bill, don't!" Scully called out in a panic, grasping her
brother's arm in her hands and pulling him back.

He turned to her in disbelief.  "Dana, let go.  I want to..." he
gestured toward their brother.

Scully slipped in front of him and placed both hands on his chest.
"You can't touch him, Bill," she said sadly.  "You could become
infected too."  Bill looked closely at his brother and for the first
time saw the black oil... seeping from his nose, ears and eyes,
dripping onto the tile floor.  He gagged and turned away.

Mulder moved forward.  "We need to leave NOW," he stressed.  He
stood next to Scully and grasped her arm to help pull her to her feet.

Scully lifted bruised eyes to his.  "Do we have time to bury them?"
she asked in a small voice.  "They should be buried, together.  They
need to be together, Mulder..."  She choked back another sob.

Mulder raised his hand and brushed it over her cheek.  He shook his
head.  "Skinner and I think we're in danger staying here any longer,"
he told her.  "I'm sorry, sweetheart."  He leaned into her and his
warm lips pressed into her temple as he held her close and tried to
warm her cold skin.

A tear tracked down her cheek and she nodded.  Turning back toward
her mother, she dropped down onto her knees and slipped her hand into
the pocket of Margaret Scully's robe, pulling out the tiny silver
rosary that she had always carried.  Clutching the beads in her fist,
she prayed in a soft voice.  "Eternal rest grant unto them, oh Lord
and let perpetual light shine upon them.  May their souls and the
souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in
peace."

"Amen," Skinner whispered hoarsely as he watched her bend low and
press her lips to her mother's forehead before she straightened and
moved back into the comfort of Mulder's embrace.  Skinner wrapped an
arm around Bill's shoulders and guided him toward the door.  Bill
shuffled along like an old man, head down and sobs still shaking his
big frame. Scully leaned on Mulder and as he opened the car door, she
lifted her face to the heavens.  Her eyes fixed on the first star as
it appeared in the twilit sky, her lips moving soundlessly as she
clutched her mother's rosary.  Skinner had settled Bill into the
front passenger seat and Mulder climbed into the back.  Scully turned
as he called her name softly.  She took his hand and he pulled her
into the car and onto his lap.  She leaned her head against him like
a weary child.  Mulder cradled her cheek in one hand and looked back
at the little cul de sac.

It was a pretty place. Once upon a time he'd imagined himself
finding a place like this, a little house in a nice neighborhood with
nice neighbors and kids and dogs and garden hoses in the front yards
of houses just a hop, skip and jump from the local elementary school.
It really was the American Dream... in this case, gone horribly
wrong.  Once, this was what he had wanted out of life.  But it took
those years on the X-Files to make him realize that this particular
American Dream would never be his to claim.  He sighed and rested his
cheek against Scully's bright hair and sent another round of thanks
Heavenward that she was safe - and a prayer for those beloved family
members they'd lost today.

Skinner pushed the door closed behind her and settled into the
driver's seat.  As they drove away, Scully watched the house grow
steadily smaller through the rear window.  And as they left the
neighborhood and merged with other traffic, they could hear the wail
of sirens and the beating of helicopter blades in the distance.

They were safe - for now.

**********
end of chapter eight

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -

NOTE:  Content warning!  Disturbing imagery ahead within the
next chapters, including minor character death -


~ Chapter Seven ~


Scully set the phone down quietly.  She could feel Mulder watching
her worriedly from across the room and she lifted frightened eyes to
his.

"Three days, Mulder."  She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and
began rocking back and forth in her seat.  "It's been three days and
I still can't reach any of them."

Mulder hurried to her and sank down on his knees in front of her.
He pried loose her tightly clenched fingers and held them in his own.
She was shivering and her hands were icy despite the warmth of the
late summer evening.  She was bone-achingly weary, unable to sleep
with mounting worry over her inability to contact her family.

"I'm sure they are fine, Scully," Mulder soothed, chafing her hands
between his warm palms.

"No," she shook her head vehemently.  "No, Mulder.  Something's
wrong.  I can feel it."  She pulled her hands free of his grip and
ran them through her tangled hair.  "Why don't they answer, Mulder?"
she asked, gripping her aching head in her hands.  "Don't you think
it's strange that none of them are home?"  She blew out a frightened
breath.  "What if... what if they are being targeted?" she asked.
"What if the aliens specifically picked them out in order to punish
me?"  Her voice was raw with anguish.  "What if they're all--"

"Scully," he interrupted in a firm voice.  "You're letting your
imagination run wild now."

"But Mulder, I went to Mom's this morning and she's not home," she
told him, despite the fact that he accompanied her to her mother's
home.  "Her mail was piled up on the floor inside the front door and
I only get the answering machines at Bill's and Charlie's."  Her
hands gripped his wrists tightly.  "I waited too long," she berated
herself.  "I didn't think they would believe me and I waited too
long.  If anything has happened to them, I'll never..."  Frightened
tears trickled down her face.

"Shh," he whispered, pushing her hair off her damp cheek.  "Scully,
you haven't slept in two days and you've barely eaten anything.  Your
imagination is getting the best of you..."  Scully shook her head so
hard her hair flew into her reddened eyes.

"No.  Mulder, something's not right.  I..."  She jerked as the
shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted them.  Lunging out of her
chair, she snatched up the receiver and thumbed the talk button.

"Hello?" she said hesitantly.  "Billy!"  Her voice was joyful.
"Thank God!  Where have you been?  I've been trying to reach you for
three days now!"  Scully's eyes closed with relief at the sound of
her brother's voice, which was booming over the telephone wires loud
enough for Mulder to catch snatches of his end of the conversation.

"Dana?  What the hell is going on up there?" Bill demanded.  "Tara
and I took the kids camping this weekend and I come home to find
about twenty increasingly frantic messages from you on my answering
machine, not to mention your face plastered all over the newspapers!"

"Bill, look.  I know you don't believe anything that you've read,
but I promise you.  It's all true..."

Her brother snorted into the telephone.  "Jesus, Dana!  I prayed
that you would leave that partner of yours before this happened.  You
sound as crazy as he does.  And what are you doing?  Are you LIVING
with him now?  God in heaven!  My baby sister is shacking up with a
refugee from an insane asylum."

Scully let him rant and rave, wallowing in the sheer pleasure of
hearing his voice.  He could scream the house down as long as it
meant he was healthy and whole.  But when he stopped to take a
breath, she spoke quickly before he could start up again.

"Bill, I'm worried about Mom.  I went over to her house this morning
and it looks like she hasn't been home in days.  The mail is piled
up..."

"She's at Charlie's."

"What?" Scully asked in confusion.

"She went to visit Charlie and Jeannie and the kids," Bill told her.
"Didn't she tell you?"

Scully's eyes fluttered closed as she remembered her mother
discussing just such a trip with her a couple of weeks earlier.  She
started to sag with relief until she remembered that she had not been
able to contact her younger brother and his family either.

"Bill, then why aren't they answering?"

Bill huffed impatiently into her ear. "Christ Dana!  I don't know.
Maybe they went away for the weekend too."

She shook her head.  "No, Bill.  I don't think... I just have a
really bad feeling that something has happened to them."

Bill sighed, a twinge of apprehension flaring briefly as he listened
to the panic evident in the voice of his normally unflappable sister.
"Look, if it will make you feel better, I'll drive down there
tomorrow and check up on them."

Scully's eyes widened and she latched onto the idea with both hands.
She was tired of sitting around waiting.  She needed to do something.
"I'm going with you," she told him.

"Dana, it's a long enough drive for me.  There's no reason for both
of us to go.  Besides, when I get there I'm sure they'll be safe and
sound.  I think you're worrying for no reason."

"I pray you're right, Bill.  If you are, I give you permission to
say 'I told you so' until you are blue in the face.  But I'm still
going with you."

Bill sighed again, recognizing that note of determination in her
voice.  It was the same tone their mother always used; the tone that
meant she wouldn't tolerate an argument.  "Fine," he said.  "Why
don't you leave first thing in the morning.  It's almost a four hour
drive from D.C. to Norfolk.  I'll look for you around 11:00 a.m.  If
we drive straight through, we should be at Charlie's in time for
leftovers."

Scully smiled softly into the phone.  "I'll see you tomorrow," she
said.

"See you then," he said, lowering the phone to his side.

"Bill!" she cried out urgently and he lifted the phone back to his
ear.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Billy," she whispered.

He exhaled harshly.  "Love you too, Dana."  He set down the phone,
listening to the sound of Tara putting the children to bed.  Poking
his head into Matthew's room, he watched his wife tuck a teddy bear
into the bed with Matty.  Bill crossed the room and pressed a kiss
onto his son's forehead. "Goodnight, Matty," he said softly.  The
sleepy child wrapped tiny arms around his father's neck. "Night,
Daddy," he whispered drowsily.  Bill hugged him in his strong arms,
allowing the smell of baby shampoo and little boy to soothe away the
tension generated by the very real fear he had heard in his sister's
voice.

**********

The smile Scully turned on Mulder was brief but happy.  "They're
okay," she said.

He smiled back.  "I'm glad."  His smile faded as his voice took on a
serious note.  "You do know I'm going with you tomorrow, don't you?"

A picture of Bill's face when he saw Mulder riding shotgun flashed
briefly through her mind and she lifted her fingers to her temple in
anticipation of the pounding headache she was sure to have about 45
minutes into the trip, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I know."

Mulder looked away for a moment before turning back at her.  He
opened his mouth to speak and then closed it abruptly.  "There's one
more thing we need to talk about," he said finally.

Scully looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting while he
gathered his thoughts.

"We need to start thinking about leaving here," he said.  "And we're
going to need to convince your family to come with us."

Scully's head snapped back in surprise at his unexpected
announcement and Mulder once again crouched in front of her.  He
settled his hands on her knees and traced his thumbs over the soft
skin of her legs from knees to the hem of her denim shorts.

"We both know there's no way to stop this."  He looked at her
steadily.  "We need to go someplace else, someplace where we stand a
chance of survival.  We need to do everything in our power to stay
alive."

Scully's eyes rounded.  She had been so intent on their research and
had struggled so hard to accept that invasion and colonization was
really happening, that she had not really thought any further.  She
was stunned to realize that they would have to leave their homes and
all that was familiar to start a life elsewhere.  She looked around
Mulder's apartment, her eyes skimming over the aquarium and the
bookcase, the familiar sofa where they had spent so many nights
wrapped in each other's arms over the last few months - and nodded.

"Someplace cold," she murmured, staring into his eyes.  After their
ordeal in Antarctica, Scully had grown to hate the cold.  Now, she
thought, what had nearly killed them before might save them.
"Where?" she asked.

Mulder shrugged.  "I've been thinking about Alaska.  As far north
within Alaska as we could go."  He stood and pulled her to her feet.
"Listen, we don't have to decide this tonight.  I just wanted you to
consider it before we reach your family."

Scully turned toward the computer.  "Maybe we should do some
research on Alaska," she suggested.

Mulder caught her by the arm.  "I've already started," he told her.
"You can read it in the car on the way to Norfolk tomorrow.  He
steered her toward the bedroom.  "Right now, you need to get some
sleep."

"Mulder, I can't sleep," she protested.  "I'm too nervous."

"Scully, you can't keep going without sleep," he told her.  "You're
going to need all of your strength just to make it through seven
hours in the car with Bill and me."

She made a face and heaved a sigh.  "I just don't think I'll be able
to stop worrying long enough to fall asleep," she admitted.

"What about those sleeping pills you sometimes force down my
throat?" he asked.

Scully pursed her lips and resolutely shook her head.  "No."

Mulder leveled his gaze on her.  "Scully."

She ground her teeth in frustration.  "Fine.  Okay."  She went into
the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.  Rooting through the
various prescription bottles, she found the one she was searching for
and shook one pill into her hand.  Mulder handed her a tumbler filled
with water and she swallowed the pill under his watchful gaze.

"All gone, see?" she said, opening her mouth to show him that she
had swallowed the pill.

He grinned quickly and pressed his lips to her forehead.  "Good girl."

Scully pushed him out of the bathroom and quickly finished getting
ready for bed.  When she stepped into the bedroom, she saw that
Mulder had pulled back the covers.  She changed into a pair of
striped cotton pajama bottoms and a ribbed tank top and slid into
bed.  Mulder settled onto the mattress and pulled her feet into his
lap.

"I'll stay here until you fall asleep," he told her as he began to
rub her feet.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked.

"No, I'm gonna watch some television - hopefully unwind a bit
first," he said as he dug his thumbs into the arch of her foot.

She nestled her head into the pillow.  "Don't stay up too late," she
said, hiding a yawn behind her hand.  She blinked at him through
heavy lashes.

Mulder continued to gently rub her feet until he saw her breathing
even out as she drifted into sleep.  He drew the sheet over her and
kissed her softly on the lips.

"Sleep well," he whispered.  "I love you."

She murmured softly in her sleep, and smiled.

***********

His eyes opened very slowly; it felt as if weights were pressing
into them.  He wasn't sure of what had awoken him... he looked around
and saw mostly a darkness obscuring the corners of the room.  He sat
up slowly, suddenly alert.  That smell... delicate perfume.

'You're stubborn, Fox.  You should have left long before now, you
and your Dana.'

He squinted in the darkness, barely able to make out the soft edges
of her cloak.

"Samantha... it IS you.  Please, is it too late for us?  I should
have listened to you..."  He could see her covered head nodding
slowly in agreement.

'Yes, you should have.  You've almost left it too long.  But you
have to leave, now.  You're not safe here.  Take her and get out, Fox
- get out now.  You're in danger.  Someone is coming for you...'

The panic set deeply within, almost painful.  "Who?  Who's coming?
Tell me, please tell me..."

'No.  It's a waste of time to linger, waiting for names and faces -
go now.  Please, Fox.  Do you want to end up like this...?'

She threw back her hooded drape.  And at first her dark curling hair
hid her face - but only for a moment.  She shook back the long
tresses, and a bee fluttered from her hair... then he could hear the
buzzing, of many bees.  He didn't want to look; he squeezed his eyes
tightly shut...

He had to look.

Oh God... no face. Where her sweet face should have been... there
were only bees.  Hundreds of squirming, swarming bees...  He screamed.


***********
He screamed...

Mulder jolted awake with a start.  Scrubbing his hands over his
face, he shook off the remnants of sleep, and a nightmare so vivid it
still danced across his closed eyes.  Placing a hand over his
pounding heart, he concentrated on regulating his breathing, opening
his sleep-crusted eyes.

"What time is it?" he muttered, squinting at the illuminated dial of
his watch.  Midnight.  Rising from the couch, he rubbed his hand over
his aching neck and turned the television off.  A sound from outside
captured his attention and he looked out of his living room window.
"Shit!" he cried, sprinting for the bedroom.

"Scully!" he whispered loudly.  "Scully!  Come on, baby.  I need you
to wake up."

He pulled her into a sitting position and shook her lightly.  She
moaned and her head lolled back onto her shoulders.  Oh God, he
thought.  The sleeping pill.  Shit.  Bracing himself, he slapped her
lightly across the cheek.

"Mmm... what?  Mulder?" She peered at him drunkenly.  He grabbed
their guns from the night stand and shoved his wallet, keys and cell
phone into his pockets.

"Scully!" he said harshly, demanding that she pay attention.  "We've
got to get out of here.  Now!"  He wrapped his arm around her waist
and grabbed her sneakers from the floor with his free hand.  "Come
on!"

Mulder pulled her out of the bedroom and stopped in the living room.
Creeping over to the door, he pressed his ear against the wood and
listened.  The hallway was quiet and he eased the door open and drew
her into the hallway.  Throwing the lock on the door, he quietly
pulled it closed behind them and cocked his head, listening. Blinking
against the harsh florescent lights, Scully opened her mouth and he
hushed her, placing his fingers over her lips.  Eyes wide with
fright, she nodded.  He stopped again at the door to the stairwell
and held his breath.  He could hear booted feet climbing the steps as
well as the sound of the elevator as it creaked upward.  Shoving her
sneakers at her, he slid the safety off his gun.  Grabbing her by the
hand, he entered the stairwell cautiously and they quickly and
soundlessly ran up two flights.  Scully was wide awake now with the
force of the adrenaline rushing through her system and she turned
anxious eyes toward him.

"Soldiers," he breathed into her ear.

"How many?" she asked as she took her gun out of the waistband of
his jeans.

He shrugged.  "Six."

"Are you sure?" she demanded quietly.

He nodded confidently.  "Yeah.  I counted them."

"Okay," she said.  "Do you have a plan?"

He shook his head and they tensed as the soldiers continued to
slowly and quietly make their way up the stairs.  Mulder and Scully
tightened their grips around their guns, hoping that surprise would
be on their side.  They watched from their perch between the fifth
and sixth floors as the soldiers eased open the door of the stairwell
and slipped into the hallway.  They warily crept down one flight of
stairs.

"Was that all six of them?" Mulder asked, his voice a mere breath.

Scully nodded, her eyes and gun trained on the door below them.
When they heard the splintering sound of wood coming from the hall,
they sprinted down the stairs.  They crept outside, alert for any
signs of danger.  They could hear the raised shouts of the soldiers
as they realized that their prey had escaped.  Glancing down the
street to Mulder's car, Scully shook her head.  "We'll never make it.
We'd be better off on foot right now," she hissed in his ear.

"Let's go," he said.  They raced down the street and slipped into a
dark alleyway on the next block.  They continued to run through
alleys and driveways until they were about two miles from Mulder's
apartment building.  Collapsing onto the sidewalk in the shadow of a
darkened restaurant, they fell into each other's arms.

"Oh my God!" Scully panted into his neck. "Oh God!  Mulder that was
so close."

"We're okay, we're okay," he chanted, stroking his hands under the
cropped hem of her tank top, pulling her flush against his body.
"We're okay."

Forcing much-needed oxygen into her lungs, she pulled back to look
at him.  "Now what?" she asked.

Mulder bit his lip and looked around.

"We need help," she whispered.

Mulder nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly
dialing a number.  He waited while the phone rang three times before
being answered.

"Sir?"  he said in hushed tones into the phone.  "It's Mulder.  We
need your help."  He swiftly explained the events of the last thirty
minutes.  "Can you pick us up?" he asked.  Mulder listened for a
moment and then spoke again.  "I'd like to put a little more distance
between us and them," he said.  "We're going to keep moving," he told
their boss.  "We'll meet you outside of Sardelli's in an hour," he
murmured.  "Yes sir," he nodded.  "We will.  See you soon."

He ended the call and stuffed the phone back into his pocket, then
helped Scully to her feet.  She winced, sucking in a painful breath.
She had run the entire way without shoes and the soles of her feet
were scraped up.  She sank back down onto the pavement and Mulder
slid down with her.  He lifted one of her feet in his hands and
studied it in the glow of the street lamp.  He gently brushed away
the grit and dirt.  "Thankfully, you're not bleeding," he told her.
"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Scully asked, stroking disheveled hair from his
forehead.  "For saving us?"  She slid her sneakers onto her feet,
grimacing slightly as she stood.  "It's not that bad, really.  We
should get going."

He nodded and once again they set off through back streets and
alleys until they reached the popular restaurant that was their
rendezvous point with Skinner.  The restaurant was closed and they
sat down on the sidewalk along the darkened side of the building,
keeping out of sight of the road.  Scully tucked herself into
Mulder's embrace and rested her head against his chest, wrapping her
arms around his waist.  He hugged her tightly with one arm, and held
his gun loosely in his lap with the other hand.  Now that the rush of
adrenaline had worn off, Scully could once again feel the effects of
the sleeping pill.  She struggled to stay alert but it was becoming
difficult for her to keep her eyes open.  Mulder smoothed his hand
over her head, wanting to tell her it was okay for her to sleep, but
afraid for them to let down their guard until Skinner had safely
picked them up. They both tensed at the sound of tires crunching over
the gravel driveway and Mulder peered around the side of the building
cautiously.  Sagging with relief, he pulled Scully out of the shadows
and they hurried forward.

Skinner jumped down from the driver's side of a Ford Excursion and
Mulder eyed the huge vehicle wonderingly.  Skinner glanced over his
shoulder at the dark blue vehicle and then back.  "It'll give us a
lot of protection," he said.

Mulder nodded and started to lead Scully toward the truck. She hung
back, self-consciously crossing her arms over her breasts. "Thank you
for coming out to get us, Sir," she said, a blush staining her cheeks.

Skinner nodded and cleared his throat, studiously averting his gaze,
but not before taking in her tousled hair and flushed cheeks, the
drowsy blue eyes; the unbound breasts, the pale skin of her stomach
exposed by the cropped tank top and the thin cotton pajamas covering
her legs.  She looked like a woman who had just crawled out of a
man's bed. Climbing back behind the steering wheel, he watched Mulder
tenderly settle Scully into the back seat, urging her to lie down and
try to sleep, and he knew that that was exactly where she had been
before all hell broke loose.   "We better get going," he said
gruffly.  "Where to?" he asked after Mulder hauled himself up into
the passenger seat next to him.

Mulder twisted in his seat to look back at Scully.  Their eyes met
and she nodded.  He turned back to his boss.

"Norfolk."

********************
end of chapter seven


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -

~ Chapter Six ~

The volume on the television was turned down to a quiet murmur.
Scully idly listened to the local news, but her attention was focused
elsewhere.  Specifically, it was focused on Mulder, as he slept with
his head nestled comfortably in her lap.  The recently repaired air-
conditioner hummed softly in the background.  Her fingers played
gently with a lock of dark hair that had tumbled onto his forehead.
Too busy with their research to get to the barber, his hair was
growing out of the short cut he had adopted over the last two years.
Scully found the longer look of it very sexy; she'd get around to
admitting this discovery to Mulder, sooner or later.  She smiled at
the thought of his reaction to her admission.

Mulder frowned in his sleep and shifted on the sofa.  Scully
feathered gentle fingers over his brow, soothing him and jealously
guarding his sleep from anything that would disturb it, even bad
dreams. She watched the tiny creases in his forehead smooth out and
his mouth once again grow slack.  He hummed her name softly and
burrowed his face into the soft cotton of the T-shirt covering her
lap. His breath was warm and comforting against her.

Fingers still toying with his hair, she reflected on the changes
wrought in their relationship over the last few months.  She was
continually amazed that in the depths of the living nightmare into
which they had been plunged, they managed to carve out small moments
of peace and happiness and normalcy.  She didn't know what the future
held for the world, but she knew that her future was inextricably
bound to Mulder's.

Breaking free of her reverie, she glanced toward the television.
Immediately, her attention was caught and held by the reporter on the
screen.  Fumbling with one hand to turn up the volume with the remote
control, she shook Mulder awake with the other.

"Huh?" he said, eyeing her blearily.  Scully scooted to the edge of
the sofa, nearly tumbling Mulder onto the floor.  "Hey!" he said
indignantly as he sat up.  "What are you... mmmpf!"  His words were
cut off when Scully clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh!" she demanded, her eyes never leaving the television screen.
Mulder turned to see what had captured her attention.

"...that's exactly right, Jim," the reporter said as she held a
microphone to her mouth, "This is the fourth such attack by a swarm
of bees in the Southwest in recent weeks."  She glanced down to a
piece of paper in her hand and then looked back into the camera.
"About thirty-five people were stung in this most recent outbreak.
They were all brought here, to Mercy Hospital," she said indicating
the building behind her.  "But a hospital source tells me that FEMA -
the Federal Emergency Management Agency - has ordered the evacuation
of all of the victims and that they have been taken to a quarantine
center that has been established here in the Southwest for treatment."

Scully could feel Mulder's fingers digging into her thigh, but her
attention was still riveted to the reporter who was pressing a finger
to her ear, apparently listening to someone's question over her
earpiece.

"No, Jim.  Nobody has said where these swarms are originating.  Of
course, there is speculation among the local population that these
are the killer bees we've so often heard about over the years, but
there is no official confirmation of that.  Live from Sedona,
Arizona, I'm Lisa Sanchez."

The local D.C. anchor thanked their sister station from Arizona for
the report and then turned the news over to the sports reporter.
Scully finally turned when Mulder tugged insistently on her arm.

"Quarantine center, my ass... those people are going into
incubation.  I saw it on that ship at Wilke's Land... hundreds of
those goddamn pods filled with green alien shit.  Every one of those
poor innocents are going to become involuntary food for alien
embryos.  It's time to talk to Skinner," he told her.

She nodded, feeling sick to her stomach at the thought of what was
happening and would continue to happen to so many.  "First thing in
the morning."

**********

"Look Agents," Skinner said as Mulder finished briefing him.  "I
need evidence.  I need something that I can take to the Director.  If
what you are saying is true, then I need concrete proof - because
eventually I'm going to have to release a statement which can be
taken and presented to the White House."

Mulder snarled in frustration and leapt to his feet, pacing around
the office.  As always, nobody could just accept - with everything
they'd presented their AD, and with what he'd already seen over the
years with his own eyes it still wasn't enough...  He turned to
Scully just as she stood and walked around Skinner's desk.  Leaning
down next to him, she dug through the papers scattered across the
desk, sorting through them rapidly.  Quickly choosing some pages and
discarding others, she began to lay them out neatly.  Looking up, she
beckoned to Mulder.

"Come on, Mulder.  Sit back down.  We'll go over this slowly and
methodically."

Mulder dragged his hands through his hair and sank down into the
visitor's chair in front of Skinner's desk.  "We don't have time for
slow and methodical," he ground out through clenched teeth.

Scully's smile was soft and meant only for him.  "Mulder, you've
already convinced your most difficult audience.  I believe you.  If
you can convince me..."

Turning to their boss, she tapped her index finger on top of one
page.  "Just follow along, Sir.  It all makes a kind of horrifying
sense."  She led him through page after page of ancient journal
entries and witness accounts.  She brought his attention to numerous
police reports as well as articles in newspapers, both national and
international, dating as far back as the early 1800s all the way up
to the present.

"We're still not sure what was going on in the Sixties and early
Seventies," she told him.  "Maybe there was a step up in the testing,
but instead of sporadic reports of the black oil, there is a great
deal of documented evidence to show that they had accelerated their
activity in some way."  Her finger skimmed over the highlighted
portions of the documents they had collected.  "The assassinations of
John F. Kennedy, his brother, Bobby, and Martin Luther King, Jr.
Charles Manson.  The incredible brutality found not only in the
jungles of Viet Nam but also among the demonstrators at home.  Kent
State University..." Her voice trailed off.

Mulder leaned into Skinner's field of vision.  "Things seemed to
quiet down a little in the latter part of the 1970s, although we did
find something in an interview given by one of the American hostages
after their release from Iran where he mentions a 'darkness emanating
from the eyes' of their captors.  The pace picked up again in the
early Eighties.  The attempts on Pope John Paul II's life as well as
on President Reagan's life.  The murder of John Lennon."  His eyes
pleaded with his boss to make the leap.

Scully picked up the recitation again.  "In the Nineties the focus
seemed to move away from world leaders.  It was as if the most
important and influential people of the modern world had been
eliminated and now Joe Public could have a turn... the virus seemed
to be manifesting itself in ordinary people committing
extraordinarily heinous crimes."  She dug through a file and pulled
out a sheaf of photocopied documents.

"Here," she said, slapping a piece of paper onto the desk.  "A young
mother, who by all accounts was a woman who doted on her children,
suddenly turned on them one morning while they were sleeping.  She
butchered them in their beds."  Her breathing hitched and she
squeezed her eyes closed, searching for, and finding control quickly.

"Here," she continued, pointing to another highlighted portion of
text.  "A young boy, only fourteen years old, took his father's
hunting rifle to his school and methodically murdered five of his
classmates while they were playing on the schoolyard during recess."

Mulder took the file from her hands and grabbed another handful of
papers from it.  "It's all here," he said urgently.  "Here and here
and again, here."  His voice was tense as he set page after page onto
Skinner's desktop.  "Each and every time, there is some mention of a
black film, or a 'black evil' that covered the perpetrator's eyes.
He spread his hands imploringly.  "No one has ever made the
connection before.  Until now."

Scully watched him walk over to the window and peer through the
blinds.  Following him across the room, she took her partner's hand
into her own and turned back to their boss.

"Mulder believes that these reports of scattered, deadly bee stings
and people being taken to quarantine centers will continue to
escalate over the next few weeks and that the virus will be released
in a full-scale attack beginning over the Labor Day weekend.  I agree
with him."  She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders,
standing between her boss and her partner.  Her back was pressed into
Mulder's chest and she continued to clasp his hand in her own in a
physical display of unity.

"Our research shows that historically, there have been periods of
time when the level of the aliens' movements against the human race
have seemingly been heightened for no apparent reason.  The recent
incidents involving Jason Martin and Darrell Moore would seem to bear
out this pattern.  However," her voice was firm and steady as she
emphasized her point.  "At no time before in history has this violent
behavior been coupled so closely with a large number of reported
outbreaks of swarming bees."

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the man standing quietly
behind her.  He nodded and set his hands onto her shoulders,
squeezing lightly.  They had to make their superior see... it was
time to take as much control over the situation as possible.

"If you wait to gather more evidence, it'll be too late, Sir,"
Mulder told their boss.

Skinner nodded and looked at the papers strewn across his desk.
Ruthlessly tamping down a rising sense of panic, he lifted his head
and eyed the two agents standing near the window.  It was a beautiful
day, he noted.  The sky was a brilliant blue and the sunlight
streamed through the blinds, gilding the hair of the couple standing
so earnestly before him.  How could such natural earthly beauty
disguise such an ugly, malignant undergrowth such as this?  It was
beyond his comprehension... it had always been so.  Of the three of
them Mulder had been the only true believer.  Now it seemed the
skeptics had no choice but to accept, and believe.

"What do we do?" he asked grimly.

********

Mulder got his first taste of media scorn when he tried to arrange
an official press conference to break the news.  With Skinner's
assistance and collaboration they contacted both local and national
broadcasting stations and scheduled the conference.  Newscasters and
reporters alike, always eager to exploit stories about anything
extraterrestrial, agreed to bring their cameras and their live feeds,
and showed up at the conference in record numbers.  FBI agents who'd
been involved on the fringes of past X-File cases and who now found
themselves ridiculing what they believed to be 'Spooky's latest
weirdness', soon discovered that not only did his partner believe and
accept but that AD Skinner did as well - and they began to listen.
When the time came for the conference they were there to lend their
support and quantification.  Unfortunately the rest of the world
didn't much care to hear, much less heed, the warning that Mulder and
Scully tried to impart.

If Mulder would have had one memory to take along with him that day,
it would be the way Scully stood up for him against the mass of
reporters who shot out derision-laden questions and remarks at them
both as they stood before the tangled web of microphones on the
podium in front of them.

"Agent Mulder!  Agent Mulder!  Do you really believe that we are
being systematically killed off..."

"...that all of the evil in the world can be traced..."

"Are you telling us you believe that Hitler was infected with this
virus which caused him to do the things he did?"

"Agent Mulder!"

"...bees?  Bio-engineered crops?  Alien incubators...?"

"Agent Mulder, according to your FBI file, you were recently
admitted to a psychiatric ward and hospitalized for an unexplained
neurological event... could this event have possibly triggered some
sort of imbalance in your reasoning and your ability to properly
function as a Federal Agent?"

"Agent Mulder!  These 'X-Files' that you work on - you chase ghosts
and other paranormal phenomena.  Are the taxpayers really funding the
bill for these kind of investigations? Are they aware that they pay
for you to do a sort of 'GhostBusters' routine in the name of the
FBI?"

"Agent Mulder!"

"Agent Mulder!"

His senses were blinded by the lights and the confusion.   It was
almost like that time, not so long ago, when he had been bombarded by
sound and other's thoughts.  Too confusing to sort through - and once
again he was nearly driven mad.  For a moment he panicked and his
heart sank as he realized that, as before, he was not to be believed.
The reporters would present all of his and Scully's research as the
ravings of a lunatic and the public would ignore it.  There was a
sudden movement at his side as Scully stepped up to the podium...

It took all of his control not to punch out a few lights of the
reporters who faced off against her as she stood tall at his side and
her low but firm words of conviction rang out over the crowd.  Above
the white roar of anger in his head her voice was an anchor which he
gladly clung to, her petite form suddenly inches more than it had
been five minutes prior.

"Agent Mulder is telling you the truth.  There is a worldwide threat
happening right now, this minute - and re-hashing past personal
moments in his or anyone else's life will not change that fact.  We
have proof - ample proof which shall be provided to the media.
Documented reports of alien colonization have been ongoing for
hundreds of years - and before that, as far back as almost two
thousand years, there were more obscure but just as faithful
documentation of alien life on this planet.  This is not a hoax.
It's not a joke or a publicity stunt or the ravings of a disturbed
mind.  I am a forensic pathologist as well as a Federal Agent and
Agent Mulder's partner.  I am also a scientist, and believe me when I
say that for years I was the most skeptical of all.  But this I
cannot refute - this I cannot discount.  It is real - it is
happening.  And the Federal Bureau of Investigation has a moral and
legal responsibility to inform you of these events so that you can in
turn report it to the media."

Through her entire monologue Scully had remained calm and rational.
Mulder was, as always, in awe of her demeanor - he would have liked
nothing better than to jump up and down on a few heads out there in
the crowd - but Scully kept her cool.  That she also defended his
reputation as a Federal Agent and as a man with his full mental
capabilities... Mulder decided that he'd assure Scully knew without a
doubt what her public support meant to him.

Five minutes later, three FBI Special Agents and a handful of their
colleagues discovered exactly how much their earnest plea to the
media had been believed - and accepted.

******************

"I don't fucking believe this.  How can so many people be so
stupid?"

Mulder stood in the middle of his living room watching the evening
news.  In between mounting reports of bee attacks still scattered
locally as well as nationally, and a report of a particularly nasty
attack nearby Belfast, Ireland... newscasters were showing bits and
pieces of the press conference of the day before, and snickering
openly about the idea of bees and the virus they were carrying.  A
female reporter, one of the more snidely vocal at the conference, was
standing in front of a home in Gary, Indiana; an entire family had
been attacked when about twenty swarming bees poured in through a
hole in their screen door and stung the family as they sat at the
dinner table.  Three children aged two through eleven had been stung
along with their parents and maternal grandmother, plus a niece who
had been staying with them over the summer.

The reporter, having been at the press conference only hours before
this most recent report, had obviously high-tailed it over to Gary as
soon as the news broke.  During the newscast of the bee attack on the
Indiana family, not once did she mention anything about the press
conference and the evidence that had been revealed.  The public was
led to believe that once again a bee attack had happened for no
apparent reason, and the family, four of whom were still alive, would
be taken into quarantine by FEMA.

"Jesus!  What's it gonna take?  Aliens just busting out all over in
front of those humans still left standing?"  Mulder paced in a tight
circle, Scully watching helplessly.  Stopping in front of the window,
he rubbed his hands over his face, hard.  He was so angry and pissed
and just plain defeated... he didn't know what else could be done.
At a gentle touch on his arm from Scully, he turned to face her,
looking down into her sympathetic eyes.  His own burned with
weariness; he'd gotten little sleep last night for worrying.  He
reached out his hand and slipped it around her little waist, pulling
her tightly against him and burying his face in her soft hair.
Scully ran a soothing hand over his shoulderblades as she whispered
to him.

"Mulder, we did everything we could.  We alerted the media in the
correct and proper manner.  We were completely honest with them.
They can't - won't - accept it.  At least, not yet.  Maybe by the
time they do it'll be too late."  She pulled her face out of his neck
and framed her hands around his jawline, her eyes holding his
earnestly.  "Sadly there's nothing we can do for those who don't
believe - but we can save the ones who do.  I think I'd better try
getting hold of Bill and Charlie, and Mom.  I'm going to make some
phone calls before we eat, okay?  Are you even hungry?"

Mulder shook his head, dropping a light kiss on her mouth, before
releasing her.  "Not really - but I suppose we should try.  Let me
see what I can find; I'll think of something.  You go call your
family."



****************
end of chapter six


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Five ~

Tunisia - June

Shimmering heat radiated on the dry horizon, and an equally-hot wind
offered no relief.  For miles and miles in any given direction there
was nothing but sand dunes and small scrubby plants here and there.
The dune-rider progressed at a slow but steady pace, wending its way
over the hot sand. As it cleared a small rise, the sudden green of a
corn field was a truly incongruous and disbelieving sight, to anyone
but the man who brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop, and climbed
out.

Before the engine completely died out he was pulling a crumpled
cigarette from the pocket of his sweat-stained shirt and lighting it,
drawing the nicotine deeply into lungs as dry and brown as the sand
beneath his feet.  Inhaling again and again, his shoulders hunched
against the searing wind, the man surveyed the surrounding crop with
a satisfied smirk.  A good crop... very good.  The burning cigarette
hanging from his lips, he climbed back into the rider and drove it
down a small incline, pulling up next to a large Quonset hut.  He got
out and walked slowly on stiff legs, toward the main door.

Stubbing out his cigarette, the stooped-shouldered man drew a
keycard from his pocket and swiped it through the control panel to
the right of the door. The tiny red light changed to green and he
pulled the door open after hearing the locks disengage.  He used the
keycard again to open the door of his office, stopping abruptly at
the sight of the white-haired man seated behind his desk.

"I need a status report," the man told him in a heavy German accent.
His bushy eyebrows drew together in distaste as he took in the
overall disheveled appearance of his associate, the man he usually
referred to as 'Smoker'... the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the
way his clothes hung loosely and untidily on his body.  His steady
regard unnerved the other man, who patted his pockets and began to
withdraw a cigarette, then stopping at a frown from the German.

"No."  One word, spoken softly but with a command that he could not
afford to ignore.  The man dropped his hands to his sides, two
nicotine stained fingers cradling an unlit cigarette, and recited his
report.

"Everything is moving according to schedule," the Smoker said in a
gravelly voice which sounded thick and hoarse from years of tobacco
abuse. "The crop will be harvested in a week and will be sent to the
processing plants where it will be made into everything from corn
chips to cooking oil." He rolled the unlit cigarette between his
fingers. "Approximately two weeks after these products are shipped to
stores around the world and begin to make their way into people's
homes, the hives will be divided and the bees will be released in the
most populated cities of the world and their surrounding areas."

The German nodded and gestured for the Smoker to continue.

"As you know, the corn from the last crop was processed into feed
and was shipped globally to cattle ranchers and poultry farms. The
stock will be slaughtered and will reach the markets simultaneously
with the corn-based products. Everything is moving smoothly," he
assured his superior. "Those people who are infected by the bees will
be gathered up and brought to the containment camps located on each
continent for the remainder of the gestational period. Most of those
who are infected from consuming the biologically-engineered corn
products or from ingesting the contaminated meat will perish either
from direct exposure to the virus or at the hands of those who
experience viral-induced dementia."  The Smoker paused, fingering
again the cigarette in his hand, debating whether he could get away
with lighting it.  The narrowed eyes of his superior quickly changed
his mind and he squelched the strong need for nicotine, and continued
his report.

"Finally, of course, we expect that there will be a number of
survivors--strong, healthy, young adults whose genetic makeup for
whatever reason will allow them to withstand this first assault.
However, we anticipate that the majority of these survivors will be
infected to some degree or another. The virus will be spread through
sexual intercourse and the next generation will be unable to survive
in the womb. If all goes as planned - and there isn't a reason to
think it should not do so - in less than five years, the human race
will be exterminated."

The German stood. "Very good," he murmured with a slight smile.
Striding to the door he looked back over his shoulder. "I want to be
kept informed as each phase is put into motion."  For an instant his
eyes went black and hard, affording a glimpse into the true
manifestation of evil that lived behind the human mask of Conrad
Strughold... then it was gone, as he sent a short nod in the general
direction of his associate.

"Of course," the Smoker assented, lifting the cigarette to his mouth
and lighting it. He squinted at his boss through the smoke curling
around his head and watched him pull the door closed behind him.
Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he left his office and took an
elevator down to the subterranean levels, a rasping sigh leaving his
throat as the temperature around him immediately dropped.  Hard to
believe this sort of cold temperature could be successfully
maintained when the earth above was a boiling dry pot...

The Smoker walked down row after row of pods containing hundreds of
human victims who were the most recent test subjects of the bee-sting
transmitted virus. Finally, he reached the end of one row and he
stopped to peer into one pod. Taking a deep breath, he closed his
eyes and allowed his body to morph into its natural form. Stepping
closer to the pod, he lifted one hand and tapped the razor sharp
talons against the greenish structure.

"You made your deal and then you had a change of heart," he said,
his huge eyes blinking slowly at the man whose likeness he had
appropriated weeks earlier. "Well, it's too late for you now," he
continued, fascinated by the look of horror frozen on the face of his
former collaborator. "It's too late for all of you." His fleshless
lips lifted in a grotesque parody of a smile and he strode down the
row of pods containing the last remaining members of the betrayers of
the human race... a consortium of dreamers.

************************

The air conditioner was on the fritz again - on one of the hottest
days in June, it had to go out on them.  Just their luck...  Slamming
the fridge door a bit harder than necessary, Mulder took a glass full
of ice cubes to the sink and topped it off with cold water, then took
a huge gulp and re-filled the glass.  Wiping perspiration from his
neck with his free hand, he walked into the living room, resisting
the urge to rub the cold glass all over his face.

Scully looked up as he held out the glass of water. Taking it in one
hand, she downed the icy liquid in several long swallows before
turning back to the reams of printouts surrounding her on the living
room floor. Mulder squatted down next to her.

"It's time we go to Skinner with this," he said gesturing to the
piles of paperwork scattered about the apartment.

Scully opened her mouth to protest but stopped abruptly, rubbing her
aching forehead with the palm of one hand. "The Fourth of July is in
two weeks," she said. "If Kurtzweil was right about it happening over
a holiday..."

Mulder shook his head. "I've been giving this some thought and I
don't
believe it's going to happen on the Fourth," he said slowly. Scully
cocked her head to one side, waiting for him to finish. "That's why I
want to go to Skinner with all of this now. The Fourth falls in the
middle of the week," he said, explaining his theory to her. "But
Labor Day is always a long weekend and more people will be away from
their homes and cut off from familiar surroundings. I figure we've
got about eleven more weeks before all hell breaks loose."  He sat
down near her and poked at the litter of papers on his carpet,
starting a bit when Scully laid her hand on his arm to get his
attention.

"What about the bees?  We keep hearing about scattered cases of bee
stings gone bad; do you think swarming has started already?"  Her
worried eyes focused on Mulder's face, watching as he thought a
moment and then shook his head decisively.

"I don't think so.  We would have heard something about it in the
media; bee swarming is always a big deal on some news station
somewhere.  Besides, I told Frohike and the guys to let us know if
they run across any news concerning swarming... just in case.  To
their credit, they were refreshingly non-nosy - just said they'd be
on alert.  I think they know, the same way we do... it's gonna hit
soon."  Scully nodded, but the worried frown didn't ease; she sighed
and leaned her head against his arm, next to her hand, speaking
softly.

"You know, Skinner may not believe us.  We have proof but it's not
nearly as conclusive as we know he requires.  When you think about
it, all we really have are some old, scratched rolls of fiche, a lot
of print-outs, some of which come off as extremely old 'National
Enquirer' copy...  a few recent eyewitness accounts from the half-
crazed survivors of a radical cult, a lot of supposition."  She
rubbed her forehead on his arm, trying to relieve the headache she
could feel brewing behind her eyes.  Mulder shook his head again and
pressed his palm along her forehead to help her alleviate the pain.

"No.  Not supposition.  We have proof undeniable, Scully; it doesn't
matter how old the account or how antiquated the rolls of film.  Not
to mention the comparative ease of finding those rolls in the first
place.  Somebody planted it in a place where we'd find it, which
means that someone is watching us.  Someone may also be setting
themselves up to be our "In-The-FBI" friend... that little undercover
bonus died out when we lost X.  Maybe we have another buddy."

Scully sighed and nodded, unwilling to wrap her still-aching head
around anything else at the moment save her partner.  Mulder took his
hand from her forehead and curved it along the back of her neck,
pulling her close for a lingering kiss, smiling against her lips when
they opened easily and she invited him inside.  Her tongue curled
around his gently and he returned the favor, both of them enjoying
the unhurried flavor of the kiss they shared...  as if they had all
the time in the world to sprawl on Mulder's living room floor and
spend out precious moments kissing and holding each other.

And at that moment in their time, sharing sips of ice water and
heated yet gentle kisses... they had all the time in their world.
Tomorrow would bring God-knows-what new horror into their lives;
right now they needed the comfort that only they could provide, each
to the other.

Mulder lowered her carefully to the carpet, cushioning her head on
one hand as he leaned on his side over her, never breaking the kiss
which was slowly heating up.  Scully sighed into his mouth, taking
pleasure as well as desire from the way his body tensed alongside
hers, and the increased tenor of his breathing when she let her
tongue play with his.  She kept her eyes open as they kissed, needing
to see the myriad emotions flitting across his face and spilling from
his dilated eyes as his kisses grew in intensity and he groaned
against her mouth.

"Scully... you'd better stop me now, unless you want to take this to
the next level.  I want you so badly... but our timing sucks.  We've
got so much to do..."  His voice trailed off as her teeth sank into
his earlobe and bit him there, then she blew a gentle breath onto the
mark she'd created, and her hands moved up and around to cup his
head.  He shuddered when her low reply ruffled the soft hair on his
neck.

"I know... I know, Mulder.  I just... I had to get my mind off this
horrible headache and find a way to momentarily escape what we have
to face, so soon.  It's just too soon!  I'm not ready for it...
Jesus, how can anyone be ready for something like this!"  Her voice
broke on a choked sob and she buried it in the collar of his shirt,
refusing to give in to emotion.  Not now... if she had anything to do
with it, not ever.

Mulder's arms tightened, cradling her as Scully managed to get
herself under control, big hands running soothingly up and down her
back.  She pulled her face from his shirt and stared up at him with
glittering eyes, fingers tugging at him until he lay full-length upon
her... then she twined both legs about his lean hips and felt him
cover her like a protective blanket.  Mulder pressed down into her,
both hands holding her face and gazing down into her eyes with a
wealth of love evident in his - and the kiss he gave her melted her
heart and most of her struggling resolve.  He murmured into her
mouth, "You getting back your control, Scully?  Feel free to use me
as your strengthening tool any old time."  She laughed shakily and
nipped at his full lower lip before she deigned to give him a reply.

"You're an idiot, Mulder..." He grinned.

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot."

**********************
end of chapter five
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Four ~

Scully watched through half-closed eyes as Mulder climbed out of bed
the next morning.  When the bathroom door closed behind him, she sat
up and reached for her robe, slid out of bed and headed toward the
kitchen to start the coffee.  She was pulling the orange juice from
the refrigerator when he entered the room.

"Morning," he rumbled from behind her as his hands settled on her
hips, pulling her back against him.  Scully turned in his arms and
rested her cheek against his chest.

"Good morning," she whispered into the white cotton of his T-shirt.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked, knowing that sheer exhaustion had
forced her mind to shut down long enough to allow her body the sleep
it so desperately required.

"Hmmm," he murmured into her hair.

"The coffee is almost ready," she told him, "and there are bagels in
the bag on the counter.  I'm going to take a quick shower."  He
nodded and was already digging through the bag of bagels as she left
the room.

When she returned to the kitchen a short while later, she saw that
he had laid out plates and knives and had poured the orange juice.
She laughed lightly when he pulled her cinnamon-raisin bagel from the
toaster oven, cursing softly as he burned his fingers on the hot
bread.  Dropping the bagel onto a plate, he set it down on the table,
glaring at her amusement and shaking his hand.

Scully reached out and caught his arm, turning his wrist so that his
hand lay palm up in hers.  "Poor baby," she whispered, examining his
fingers for injury.  Clucking softly over the pink tips of his thumb
and two of his fingers, she lowered her head, brushing her lips
lightly over the injured digits, her tongue darting out to soothe the
sting.  Mulder let out a quick gasp, his fingers curling
involuntarily in the wake of her caress.

Still holding his hand in both of hers, Scully peered up at him.
"All better?" she asked, wide-eyed and innocent.  She suppressed a
smile as he sucked in a deep breath and fumbled a reply.

"Umm... yeah - it's good... uh, thanks," Mulder said before turning
back to the counter.  He lifted his mug with trembling fingers and
coffee threatened to spill all over the floor before he used both
hands to steady the mug.  He took a bracing sip of the hot liquid and
Scully watched the play of his shoulder muscles beneath his T-shirt
as he shifted uncomfortably for a minute or two before joining her at
the table.

"So what's the plan for today?" she asked, deciding to have mercy on
him.

Mulder leaned across the table and stole one-half of her cream
cheese laden bagel.  He took a gigantic bite and dropped the rest of
the bagel back onto her plate, deftly avoiding her slapping fingers.
Chewing quickly, he mumbled, "As I said last night, I'd like to pack
up some of your stuff to take back to my place."  He sucked cream
cheese from his thumb. "Does that sound all right to you?"

Scully found herself too preoccupied by the sight of Mulder, licking
his sticky fingers while he waited for her reply.

"Scully?" he prompted softly.

"Huh?" she blinked as she stared at him from across the table.  "Uh,
yeah.  Sounds good.  Let me just clean up this mess first," she said,
standing and carrying her plate and juice glass over to the sink.
She busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen, wondering how Mulder
could so easily distract her when the whole world was turning upside
down.

Leaving the dishes to drain in the dishrack, she joined him in the
living room.  "Well," she said as she looked around the room, "I
should take my laptop."

Mulder nodded and began to disconnect the computer.  Scully
disappeared into the bedroom and returned a moment later with her
briefcase.  She stuffed all of their notes into the leather bag and
set it down on the desk next to her laptop.  She glanced around the
room again.

"I guess I really just need to pack clothes..." She led Mulder into
the bedroom and pulled her luggage from the closet.  "Did we bring my
overnight bag up from the car the other night?" she asked
distractedly.

Mulder jerked his head toward the door.  "It's in the other room,"
he told her.  Scully nodded and left to fetch the bag in question.
She went into the bathroom and began to gather up supplies.  Opening
up the linen closet she stuffed new bottles of shampoo, shaving gel,
shower gel and a fresh razor into a small bag.  Tossing a box of
tampons and some aspirin in the bag, she could hear Mulder moving
about the bedroom.  Curious to know what he was doing, she poked her
head out of the door.

Mulder had been busy pulling her clothes out of the closet and her
bureau.  The bed was piled high with jeans, T-shirts and blouses and
a good number of her business suits were draped over a chair.

"Mulder?" she asked stepping through the doorway.

Mulder was kneeling on the floor in front of her bureau and his head
jerked up at the sound of her voice.

"How long are you expecting me to stay with you?" she asked,
inclining her head toward the mountain of clothing piled up on her
bed.  She inhaled sharply when he looked up at her with eyes that
said 'forever'. He stood and his fingers clenched around the silky
fabric of the pajamas he clutched in one hand.

"As long as you need," he said.  He lowered his gaze to the carpet
beneath his feet and then looked up again.  "As long as you'd like."

Scully worried the soft flesh of her lower lip between her teeth and
her eyes tracked over the piles of clothing before settling on the
warm sunlight spilling through the budding trees outside of the
window.

"I keep my sweaters in there," she said pointing toward the armoire.
His smile was brilliant as she retreated to the bathroom to finish
her packing.  She stared at her reflection in the mirrored medicine
cabinet, then resolutely she swung open the door and carefully tucked
her favorite scented lotions and perfumes into the bag.

*********

It took several trips up and down the elevator of Mulder's apartment
building to drag in everything they had packed.  He immediately went
into his bedroom to empty several drawers in his bureau and pushed
aside the expensive suits lined up in his closet in order to make
room for hers.  While Scully carefully placed her pajamas and
lingerie into the empty drawers, Mulder settled on the floor in front
of the closet, quickly bringing some order to the jumble of shoes and
sneakers piled there.  Within a few hours, they had put everything
away.

"Do you want to go out to dinner?" he asked as they slumped together
on the sofa, weary from the hurried unpacking.  She shook her head
and yawned.

"I don't feel like dealing with a crowd tonight," she told him.

"We could order out," he said as he reached into the drawer of the
table near the sofa for his collection of takeout menus.  Scully
reached out and placed her hand over the phone when he would have
picked it up.  "Let's just make something here," she said softly.

"I don't think there's anything edible in the kitchen," he groaned.

Scully stood and reached out for his hands, pulling him to his feet.
"Then we should get to the supermarket," she said.  Mulder nodded,
yawning; stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and grabbed his
keys, following her out of the door.

*********

Later, with the dinner dishes washed, dried and put away, Scully
went into the bedroom intent on changing into her pajamas.  The day
had been pleasant as they ruthlessly steered clear of the subject at
hand, but she knew they couldn't avoid it forever.  She wanted to be
comfortable when they got back into it.

She hit the light switch on the wall, sending a flood of soft,
golden light spilling into the room.  She pulled a pair of pale blue
cotton pajama bottoms and a white ribbed tank top from the drawer.
Toeing off her shoes and socks, she tugged her T-shirt over her head,
unsnapping her jeans and pulling down the zipper.  Turning, she threw
the T-shirt onto the bed and stopped suddenly, staring at the linens
covering his mattress.

"Mulder!" she called, her voice quivering. She could hear his feet
hit the floor and thud hurriedly across the apartment.  He stopped,
his hands braced on the doorjamb as his eyes scanned the room,
looking for the source of the commotion.

"What?" he asked.  "Scully, what?" His voice was urgent.  Wide-eyed,
she pointed toward the bed.  He crept closer to the bed, inspecting
it closely and looked at her in confusion.  "What?" he asked again.

Scully eased over to the bed and lifted the edge of the quilt which
was neatly turned back at the foot of the bed, rubbing it between her
fingers.  She eyed the muted colors of the floral print and then
looked back at him with a question in her eyes.

"Your quilt?" he asked, blowing out a relieved breath.  "I packed it
and a couple sets of your sheets before we left your apartment."  He
smoothed a hand over the soft cotton covering one of the pillows.  "I
wanted you to feel at home," he shrugged.

Scully sniffed once.  "Thank you," she murmured, knuckling tears
away from the corners of her eyes.  "I think that's the nicest thing
you've ever done for me, Mulder."

She smiled fondly as he shrugged again and dropped his gaze to the
carpeting.  His eyes traveled over her bare feet, taking in the pink
polished toes; slowly his gaze swept up her body.  Her smile faded
when she saw his breathing quicken as he eyed the pale blue fabric of
her panties peeking out from between the metal teeth of the open
zipper of her jeans.  She heard his harsh swallow as his gaze settled
on the fullness of her breasts encased in a matching bra.  He stepped
closer and wrapped one arm around her waist, yanking her against him;
Scully's breath left her in a whoosh as she collided with his chest.

"Mul..." she managed, as he lifted his free hand, tracing the swell
of her breast as it rose out of the cup of her bra.  He slipped one
finger under the lace edging of the bra and swept it slowly,
hypnotically over the soft flesh he found there.  Scully's head fell
back as he moved again, cupping her breast in his hand and opening
his mouth over the silky fabric covering her nipple.  His breath was
hot and moist as it feathered over her and she clutched his shoulders
with both hands.

She gasped as he slid his arm under her legs, sweeping her off her
feet and cradling her against his chest.  She flung her arms around
his neck to keep her world from spinning out of control.

"I... I... I thought we were... were going to - Oh God!" she panted,
as his lips found the erratic jumping of her pulse along her neck and
settled there to nuzzle.  She swallowed hard.  "We were going to
go... go over our notes..." she stuttered.

"Not tonight," he said against her skin, as he lowered her onto the
crisp sheets and followed her down.  He grasped the open waistband of
her jeans and tugged them down her legs, settling between her thighs
as naturally as if he had done so every day of his adult life.

"But I..." She moaned as Mulder's mouth closed over hers in a kiss
unlike any they had ever shared before.  Although they had spent
several nights wrapped in each other's arms, their previous kisses
had been sweet and romantic.  Full of love and hope for the future,
they had been restrained and at times hesitant, not quite ready yet
to allow passions or emotions to overflow.  But this kiss, she
thought hazily... this was all about unbridled passion and desire.
Hot and needy, their mouths moved greedily and their hands swept over
each other's bodies.  Scully's mind was swirling madly as her brain
urged her to slow things down and her body cried out for more.  She
moaned and arched her back as Mulder flicked open the clasp of her
bra and slid the straps down her arms, his mouth latching onto her
nipple hungrily.

Oh God, she thought as the pleasure center of her brain began to
shut down all other thought processes and she melted into the sheets
beneath her.  Fingers fumbling for the snap of his jeans, she tugged
until Mulder lifted his hips from hers and gave her some room to
work.  They both froze when the phone rang.

"Ignore it," he muttered against the fragrant flesh of her throat.
Scully twined her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and
tugged gently as the phone continued to ring insistently.

"Mulder," she said quietly.  She soothed her hands up and down his
spine as he settled his weight back onto her.  Struggling to control
his breathing, he reached for the phone, keeping her trapped beneath
him.

"Mulder," he said harshly.  He listened, then murmured, "Huh?  Yes.
Yes, of course, Sir."  Scully slid out from under him and slipped
into her pajama bottoms, tugging the tank top over her head.
Turning, she listened to him wrap up his conversation with their boss.

"Yes.  Tomorrow morning.  9:30?  We'll see you then, Sir.  Yes, I'll
tell her."  He disconnected the call and sighed, hanging his head for
a moment before looking up at her.  She recognized the disappointment
glinting in his eyes - she was sure it matched her own - as he took
in her now-clothed form.  She rubbed the sole of one foot over the
top of the other, suddenly nervous and a little uncomfortable around
him.

He sighed again and placed the handset of the phone into the cradle,
sliding to the edge of the bed to place his feet on the floor.  "I
guess it's just not our time yet, huh?" he asked wryly. She swallowed
convulsively as she watched him brace his elbows on his knees and
pinch his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  Her fingers twisted
together nervously and her voice was agitated when she began to speak.

"Mulder, I..." She stopped, unsure of how to explain that part of
her was glad they were interrupted.  Mulder looked up and held out a
hand to her. She stepped closer and he buried his face against her
stomach.  She stroked his hair with one hand.

"Mulder, you know I want to..." she stopped, at a loss to put her
thoughts into words.  "But maybe now isn't the right time," she
finished lamely.

He nodded against her belly and she could feel the heat of his
breath through her tank top as he spoke.  "I've wanted you in my bed,
wanted to make love to you for so long now, but..." He rolled his
head back and forth, rubbing his forehead against her.  "I'd like to
be able to concentrate on you fully and I don't want anything else to
be on your mind when we finally do make love."

He hooked a strong forearm around her waist and tumbled her onto the
mattress again.  Looming above her, he stroked a hand over her
tousled hair and brushed his lips chastely over hers.  "Having you in
my bed is enough for now."

She smiled.

**********

The elevator bell pinged softly and Scully stepped through the doors
as Mulder held them open.  They had spent several hours discussing
their next course of action before falling asleep the night before.

"I think we should hold off on tendering our resignations," she had
whispered in the darkened bedroom as she stroked gentle fingers
through his hair.  She felt him tense and he lifted his head from
where it had been resting against her breasts.

"We need the resources," she told him.  "And you know the badges
will open a lot of doors that would be locked otherwise," she said
reasonably.

Propping his elbow on the pillow next to hers, he braced his head on
his hand.  "Skinner wants our reports on the cult suicide," he said
slowly.  "But, Scully, all of the other stuff that we've found; I
don't know..."

Scully nodded.  "We'll give him our findings on the suicide,
including the witness reports on the black film over Martin's eyes
and my autopsy report.  But we'll sit on the rest of what we found
until we know more," she said thoughtfully.

"Okay," he agreed, sinking back down and nestling his head between
her breasts.  She had kept her breathing slow and even and rubbed
soothing fingers through his hair and over the tense muscles of his
neck, allowing the steady beat of her heart, the measured slowness of
her breathing and the gentle stroking of her fingers ease him into
sleep.

Now she looked up at him as he strode down the hallway to Skinner's
office beside her.  He looked rested and healthy and she knew that
the tension and worry that she saw in his eyes was evident only to
her.

After giving their reports to Skinner and promising to keep him
informed of anything else they found, they left his office.  Scully
looked up in surprise when Mulder punched the elevator button for the
lobby instead of the basement.  "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Someplace where we can talk in peace," he said, leading her out of
the building and sliding his sunglasses onto his face.  They walked
in silence to the memorial and sank down on their bench.

Scully squinted up at Mulder in the bright sunshine and he
apologized, switching places with her so that her back was to the
sun.  "Okay," she said.  "What do we know?"

"Well we're long on supposition and short on facts," he said.
"Let's just brainstorm here for a few minutes.  Kurtzweil said it
would happen over a holiday, when people are away from their homes..."

"Memorial Day was a couple of weeks ago," Scully said, looking
around the small park.  It was only mid-morning and the lunch crowds
weren't out yet.  The tourists were fixated on the memorial and no
one was looking their way.  Toeing off her shoes, she reached deftly
beneath her skirt, tugging her pantyhose down and off her legs.  In
deference to the warmth of the early summer sun, she stripped out of
her jacket and slipped her discarded pantyhose into one of the
pockets.  Folding the jacket neatly, she curled her legs up onto the
bench and draped the jacket discreetly over her lap.

Mulder smiled wolfishly at her and pulled off his own jacket,
loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves.  He leaned against the
back of the bench, stretching his arms out along the slats of wood
and spread his legs, comfortably lifting his face to the sun.

"How do you think it's transmitted?" he asked from beneath the dark
lenses of his sunglasses.

"Bees?" she began.

"I haven't heard any reports of swarms, have you?" he asked.

"No," she said slowly, but it doesn't appear to be widespread."  Her
voice was thoughtful as she spoke.  "Maybe the bees have been
released in small quantities over the years..."

"Bio-engineered crops," Mulder suggested.

Scully nodded, then frowned.  "But Mulder, that technology has only
existed for a short while now.  What we've found goes back hundreds
of years!"

"Scully, that technology is new on this planet.  Who's to say how
advanced the aliens are?"

She nodded again and then blew out a breath.  "I can't believe I'm
sitting here - agreeing with you on this!" Her laugh was self-mocking.

Mulder's smile was leering. "It's been a long-standing fantasy of
mine," he said, waggling his brows at her suggestively.  Scully eyed
him with mock-severity.

"Sexually transmitted?" she asked.

Mulder blinked and he gaped at her for a second or two before his
mind switched from teasing her back to the topic of discussion.  He
thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Do you think?" he asked slowly.

She shrugged.  "Why not?"  Mulder sighed and nodded again.

"All right, let's consider this for a moment.  When you were exposed
to the bee sting, I found you in one of those pods surrounded by
hundreds of other people who were gestating those things inside of
them."  He kept his voice flat and emotionless and Scully held
herself stiffly, forcing herself to stay analytical and not to become
lost in the horrific memories.

"Jason Martin and Darrell Moore showed no signs of anything like
that," Scully said.  "But the firefighter that we found in Dallas, do
you remember what his tissue was like?"  She rubbed her fingers
together at the memory.

Mulder nodded.  "It would help if we knew how Martin and Moore were
infected."

Scully murmured her assent and then continued.  "Let's assume that
there are various ways of being infected, and that the method of
infection dictates the effects of the virus on the victim."

Mulder bit his lip, nodded eagerly.  "Right.  So those people who
are infected with the virus through a bee sting become incubators.
Maybe people who are exposed to products made from the engineered
crops are affected in a different way."

Scully spoke softly, her voice taking on a rambling quality.  "It
seems that the virus can alter a person's neurological patterns,
causing them to act in an abhorrent manner."  Her voice cracked as
she remembered the blood-splattered cribs in Darrell and Marjorie
Moore's house.

His hand settled over hers and she tangled her fingers with his.
She opened her mouth to speak again and her breath caught as a dim
spark of a memory fought its way to the surface.  Abhorrent manner...
Her lips moved rapidly but she didn't utter a word.  Mulder drew his
sunglasses from his face and leaned down to her.

"Scully?" he called softly.

She squeezed her eyes closed and held up one hand, holding him at
bay while she thought.  Finally, her eyes popped open.  "Oh my God,"
she whispered.  Her breathing was labored and she looked up at him
with horror-filled eyes.

"Mulder... God.  I just remembered..."

"What?  Scully!"  Mulder's voice held a hint of panic.

"We've got to go back to the library," she said, stuffing her feet
back into her shoes and slipping her jacket on.  Mulder stood and
towered over her, gripping her elbows and shaking her gently,
urgently.  She licked her lips.  "When I was scrolling through the
microfiche, I saw something and I flipped right by it and then we
started finding the rest of the events and I just let it go... oh!"
She was panting and her nails were digging into his arms.

"Jesus, Scully!  Just spit it out!" he urged desperately.  She took
a deep and shaky breath, before continuing.

"Mulder, there was a reference to Judas Iscariot - it seemed so
bizarre and I skipped past it.  I didn't think... I didn't want to
believe we were really going to find anything.  But think about it -
Judas betraying Jesus, Booth killing Lincoln..." Her eyes were wild.
"We've got to go back and check it out.  I'm guessing that if we
check further, we'll find that with each generation or two - they're
systematically killing off the best and the brightest of us!"

*********************
end of chapter four


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Chapter Three ~

Georgetown University Library had barely opened its doors when they
parked in the visitor's lot and hurried inside the old building.  Not
entirely sure what to look for but knowing they had to start
somewhere, they had decided to feed key words and terms into the
Library's massive Netlink information system and see what might pop
up.

As the lobby elevator doors closed behind them, Mulder leaned back
against the brass railing and regarded Scully with concerned eyes;
she looked so tired.  Neither of them had gotten any sort of decent
sleep after she'd raised the unwelcome question about the possibility
of long-term colonization.  The thought of it happening far earlier
than Roswell was too frightening to contemplate - and if true, it
changed everything.

They'd flown home on an early flight, the trip long and tense with
the worry each of them carried inside.  They'd spoken softly to one
another, holding hands and trying to pretend it was just a regular
trip back to DC - but they couldn't fool themselves.  And Mulder knew
as soon as they hit town they'd be spending a great deal of time
digging for anything they could.  They made it to Scully's apartment
and scrounged enough odd food combinations from her cupboards and
fridge to give them both indigestion, and fell into bed with upset
stomachs, holding hands all through the night.  In the morning they
dressed silently and made their way to Georgetown U.

*****************

On the third floor of the huge library the main Netlink databank fed
out and retrieved information not only to all the library systems in
the DC area, both public and private, but also to key library
databanks around the world.  What couldn't be found on the main link
would most likely be available on microfiche.  Scully sat down at the
first microfiche she found as Mulder began digging through Netlink.
Looking up briefly from the screen, she murmured quietly, "Okay.
What do we search for?  Oil?  Unexplained viruses?"

Mulder thought for a moment while he waited to log in.   "Well, I
doubt we'd get anything worthwhile if we only searched on 'oil'.  And
unexplained viruses may get us too far off track.  I don't want to
waste any time; I've got a feeling from now on time will be at a
premium for us..." He rubbed at his eyes with one hand and pushed the
mouse around with the other, thinking.  "It would seem that a search
on a repeated phrase might work - didn't everyone mention a film over
the eyes?  Maybe we should start with that."

Scully nodded and got down to serious business, flipping through the
catalog.  "I'll try it - 'black film'; maybe I should just do that
first.  If I find anything I'll yell - quietly, of course - respect
for where we are and all that."  She sent a weary grin Mulder's way
and he echoed it briefly before settling in with the mouse.

It took two and a half hours before she found anything viable, and
her exclamation was quietly issued as promised - but Mulder heard it
just as his twenty-seventh full-scale search came up with squat.

"Mulder, you have to look at this.  I think I hit the mother-lode."
Mulder left his chair, stretching stiffly as he walked behind her
chair and looked over her shoulder at the screen.  Scully traced the
text with her fingers as she read.  "Jesus, listen to this... I can't
believe what I'm seeing..."


************************


The man entered the theater and made his way towards the staircase.
Dressed in black, his new spurs jingled quietly as he climbed the
stairs and slipped through a doorway. Raising his hand, he aimed his
derringer and fired. John Wilkes Booth had fatally wounded Abraham
Lincoln.

An officer seated near the fallen President leapt to his feet in a
belated attempt to protect his commander-in-chief. Recoiling in
horror at what he saw in the assassin's eyes, he hesitated and Booth
lunged forward, stabbing him with a concealed knife before climbing
over the edge of the President's box and leaping toward the stage.
His spur caught in the red, white and blue bunting decorating the box
and he fell heavily to the stage floor. Shaking off the pain, he
raced from the theater amid the screams of the panicked crowd.

He raced through the night stopping for ammunition and a whiskey to
dull the pain of his broken leg. Fleeing his pursuers and unable to
bear the pain any longer, he stopped to have his leg set. The next
day, holed up in a barn, surrounded by soldiers, he was shot in the
neck and captured.

Booth lived for three hours. A young soldier tending to the injured
prisoner tried to give him some medication.

"It's useless," Booth rasped painfully.

The soldier knelt and lowered his canteen to the wounded man's lips.
He sprang back in fear as a film of dark hatred clouded Booth's eyes.
Blood, so dark and oily it appeared black, trickled from his nose,
seeping into the dusty earth beneath him.

******

"Oh my God," Scully breathed, turning fearful eyes away from the
screen and up to where Mulder hovered over her shoulder. "How long
has this been going on?"  Her worried eyes met his, equally
concerned, and he shook his head in amazement.

"How did you find this, Scully?  Just by popping in 'black film'?"
She nodded, and printed out the text before backing up the roll.

"Not quite.  I had to wade through a lot of useless garbage before I
found it.  One article led to another, and then into actual events,
then jumped into eyewitness accounts.  Testimonies and gossip, some
of it too far-fetched to be of possible use.  I hit and missed a lot
until I started looking for accounts of black film coinciding with
abhorrent or deviant behavior.  Once I found that roll, all sorts of
fun things began to float to the top.  This was only the first.
I don't know if I want to find out anymore..."

She rose from the chair, shaky and stiff; Mulder folded her into his
arms and held her very close, rocking her a little as she clutched at
him.  He threaded a hand through her soft hair and pressed her cheek
into his neck so she could feel the vibration of his reply.

"We have to.  We've traced it back to the mid-nineteenth century,
and it's only taken us less than three hours.  If there's more we
have to see it.  I think continuing to search for this on the
Internet will prove useless; judging by the look of some of these
rolls, they've been around for a long time.  I wouldn't be surprised
to see this suppressed like crazy out on the Web."  Mulder gave her a
gentle squeeze that she returned, then let her go; Scully sat back
down again and gazed at the screen as he continued.

"What I can't understand is how easy it was to find these old rolls
of microfiche, when almost everything else has been transferred to
sheets, and more lately the Internet.  And even microfiche sheets are
about obsolete.  I assume this story is from a newspaper - which
one?"  He bent over Scully's shoulder again as she flipped back
through the faded text.

"The Pardee Examiner... small, local paper, I'd bet.  An anonymous
article, from the looks of it - probably one of many stories
circulating at the time, concerning the Lincoln assassination.  It's
hard to say if anyone believed what they read, all those years ago."
Mulder retrieved the printed copy of the article and skimmed it, then
looked down at Scully.

"Well, somebody believed it... and they went to some lengths to bury
it in an old roll of film, and keep it off the Internet Highway.  Now
I have to wonder why it was so relatively easy for you to find these
rolls..." Scully frowned at the screen, then raised one inquiring
eyebrow at Mulder as he worked at the puzzle.

"Well, yes - I guess I'd wonder the same thing.  After all, three
hours or so of searching shouldn't dig up something like this.  Makes
me wonder what else we could discover.  Do we really want to?"   His
nod was firm and immediate as he repeated what he'd said only minutes
before.

"Scully, we have to."

The library kept long hours, which meant time, was relatively on
their side.  Once they knew where to look and what to ask for the
rest of the rolls surfaced with alarming ease.  Not that there were
that many - but what they contained was explosive.  Mulder couldn't
help but believe that somehow they'd been conveniently left behind
for somebody to find... somebody who would understand the
significance of what this little foray into history meant for the
rest of the world.

Later that evening they would re-read the printed sheets they'd
made, and the intensity and import of those pages made them shudder.
The worst moment for them both came when they discovered evidence of
the virus at Auschwitz.  Sitting in the silent library with the only
sound the whirring of the rolls, Scully read the account aloud, of
witnesses who claimed to have seen "blackest evil" in the eyes of not
only Hitler but the more sadistic of the camp guards as well.  Her
voice shook as she read, finally breaking when the recorded account
revealed it had been offered by a fourteen year old camp survivor by
the name of Gerda who had died mysteriously shortly after her
interview.

Now she shuddered anew and Mulder held her close to his side as they
huddled together on the edge of her bed.  He turned his head from the
pages held loosely in Scully's cold hands and pressed a kiss to the
side of her head, whispering into her temple.

"We've got to find out who left those rolls of film for us to
discover, Scully.  I really believe something like this would have
stayed buried forever, quite nicely - in fact, it should have stayed
hidden.  Somebody wants us to read it - and know the real truth
behind the colonization."

Scully turned in his arms and molded herself closer; she was now
shivering.  As if she couldn't get warm - and Mulder knew how she was
feeling.  He'd been cold all day long.  He lifted her into his lap
and held her like a child.  They sat that way for the longest time,
neither one speaking - easing each other's fears as best as they
could.  Finally Scully pressed her mouth into his neck and gave him a
kiss meant to reassure him as much as it did her.  She raised tired
eyes to his and her voice was hoarse when she spoke.

"Stay... I don't want to be alone, ever again.  I feel as though the
world is crashing all around us and we're the only ones who really
know what's about to happen."  Mulder nodded and kissed her soft
cheek, trailed his lips over to the corner of her mouth and kissed
her there as well, before he covered her mouth more fully and kissed
her again.  Not a comfort kiss... not a desperate end-of-the-world
kiss.  Just the kiss of a man who had the woman he loved in his arms
and wanted her to know she was cherished.  He spoke against her cheek.

"I'll stay tonight - then I want you to move in with me for a while,
Scully.  You'll feel safer there and I'll feel better just having you
with me.  We can do it tomorrow - and we'll make an easy day of it
and take some time to think this out and decide what we want to do.
Okay?"  He felt her take a deep breath before she answered him.

"Okay.  I'll put some things together tomorrow.  Right now let's
just go to bed.  I'm so tired..." Mulder helped her to stand and then
came up beside her, hugging her one last time.

Unfair, he thought... so unfair.  Just as they were finally
beginning to find their way as more than friends; almost ready to
take that final step and solidify a love that had been growing
steadily for seven years... this had to happen.  They hadn't been in
a hurry; content to date and get to know each other as future lovers,
not needing to rush a thing - and now he was in a panic... now they
were scared.  He murmured against her temple and this time his voice
broke on the endearment he sent into her heart.

"I know you're tired and scared, baby... so am I."

It would be days later before he realized that he'd called her 'baby'.


*******************
end of chapter three
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -



~ Chapter Two ~

Scully came awake slowly.  She could hear Mulder's soft murmur
coming from the other room.  His voice took on an urgent quality and
she slipped from the bed to investigate.  Entering the living room,
she saw him hang up his cell phone and make some quick notes on a pad
of paper.

"What is it?" she asked.

Mulder glanced up.  "I'm sorry," he murmured.  I didn't want to wake
you yet."   She walked across the room to stand next to him.

"What is it?" she asked again.

"Darrell Moore," he sighed.  Mulder's hand slipped to the back of
her neck, cupping her sleep-warmed skin.  "He was scheduled to be
arraigned today but has been rushed to the hospital instead."

"Why did they call you?" she questioned.

"I asked them to keep me informed," he told her.

"Why, Mulder?" she cried.  "This isn't an X-File.  Please, let's
just leave it behind us and let the police handle it."

Mulder clasped her icy-cold fingers in his hands.  "I don't know
why, Scully.  I can't explain it," he said.  There had been something
about the man's eyes, Mulder thought.  Something...  "Look, I'm just
going to run out there, hopefully get a chance to talk to the guy."

Scully shook her head and turned toward the bedroom.  "Give me
twenty minutes," she said over her shoulder.  Mulder stepped forward
and laid a hand on her arm.

"No, Scully," he said, turning her to face him.  "I'll go."

"Mulder," she protested.

"Look Scully.  I just think it would be better if you let me go
alone."

"I'm a professional," she reminded him icily.

Mulder clamped both hands on her shoulders.  "Scully," he chided.
"This has nothing to do with your abilities to do the job and you
know it."  His thumbs stroked along the sides of her neck.  "But this
case...I saw what it did to you."

"Mulder..."

"No, you listen to me, Scully.  I practically had to carry you out
of that house yesterday!"  He took a deep breath and deliberately
softened his tone.  "You are a great agent, but sometimes everyone
needs to step back."  His eyes were solemn.  "I think that time is
now for you.  Please."

Scully stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment before she
acquiesced.  She let him pull her close and wrapped her arms around
his waist.  "I'll meet you at the office in a couple of hours," he
told her as she pressed her cheek against his shirt.  She stepped
back and played with a loose thread on his collar.

"I know we still have some things to talk about," she began.  "But
we've pretty much made our decision, haven't we?"

Mulder stroked the soft skin of her face with gentle fingertips.
She closed her eyes briefly and nestled her cheek in the palm of his
hand. "Yeah," he nodded.  "We're going to finish this case, wrap up
some loose ends at the office and then we're going to tender our
resignations."

Scully bit her lip worriedly.  "Are you... are we sure this is the
right thing to do?"

"Do you remember what you told me last night?" he asked softly.

She nodded.  "I said that every day I felt a little more tired and a
lot less human."

He nodded sharply.  "I want us both to be human, Scully... human and
alive and full of life and energy - so we can figure out what we
really want from this life - and from each other."  He stared at her
intently.  "I know what I want, Scully... do you?"  She met his
probing gaze with one just as serious and unsmiling.  And she nodded,
taking a deep breath and releasing it in a shuddering sigh.

"Okay."  She straightened her back and set her shoulders.  "This
time, I'll let you go alone and I'll meet you at the office. I have
some research to do."

"What research?" Mulder asked curiously.

"Vacation spots, Mulder.  I expect you to take me someplace warm and
sunny where the only thing we have to do is lie on a beach and just
be."  Her smile was impish as if simply the thought of lying on a
warm stretch of sand with him was enough to lift ten years off her
battered soul - enough to fill an eternity with exactly what she
wanted from that life they both strove to retain.

"Don't forget to pack a bikini," he tossed over his shoulder as he
grabbed his keys and opened the door.

********

Scully stumbled into Mulder's office several hours later looking
wildly around the room for him.  She sank shakily into the chair
behind his desk.  It can't be, she thought.  It isn't possible.  She
reached for the telephone on the desk, intent on finding Mulder and
jumped out of the chair when her cell phone rang shrilly.  Clapping
one hand over her pounding heart, she pounced at the sound of her
partner's voice.

"Where the hell are you Mulder?" she demanded.

"Scully, listen to me for just a minute," he said urgently.

"No, Mulder!  I need you to listen to me," she said tightly, her
voice rising to be heard over his.  "There's been a cult suicide--"

"A cult?" he interrupted.  "Listen Scully, what I have to tell you
is urgent.  It can't wait!"

"Mulder!" she said sharply, demanding that he listen to her.  "There
are several survivors.  One of them is conscious and in a hospital.
He told the police that the leader of the cult... that his eyes..."
her breath caught.  She cleared her throat and reached for a piece of
paper.  "He said that the leader's eyes were clouded with a 'black
haze of evil'," she said reading from the paper.

"Oh God!" she heard him gasp.

"Mulder... Skinner has already approved everything.  I need to get
out there, do the autopsy before anyone else does.  We... we need to
interview the survivors quickly."

"I'll stop at your place and grab your bag," he said.  "What time is
our flight?"

She gave him the flight information.  "I'll see you at the airport
in three hours."

*******

Scully hurried through the airport to the gate where their plane was
already boarding.

"Mulder!" she called, rushing over to him.

"Let's go," he said, following her onto the plane.  They stowed
their bags and sat down.  Scully lifted the armrest between their
seats and twisted to face him.

"We're flying to Philadelphia and then we hop a commuter flight into
Scranton-Wilkes Barre," she said, explaining their travel itinerary.
"From there we rent a car and drive to a town called Centralia, PA."

She reached under the seat and pulled out her briefcase.  Flipping
open the lock, she withdrew several sheets of paper.  "Reports are
just starting to trickle in, but this is what I've been able to find
out so far.  Jason Martin, aged fifty-eight, was the leader of the
cult.  He was the fourth child of George and Nancy Martin and raised
in the coal regions of Pennsylvania.  George was coal miner as were
Jason's two older brothers.  Rather than become a miner himself,
Jason entered the seminary and began to study to become a priest,
making his mother extraordinarily proud."  Scully flipped through her
notes, handing several pieces of paper to Mulder who scanned them
briefly before looking back at her, as she continued.

"He washed out of the seminary in his third year.  I haven't been
able to get his school records from the seminary yet - a field agent
from the local office is working on that right now.  He was married
and widowed twice.  I'm requesting the death certificates to
ascertain the cause of death of his wives..." She tucked a strand of
hair behind her ear and consulted her notes again.

"Anyway, he drifted from job to job and tried his hand at many
different forms of organized religion.  Apparently, Jason had a
problem with authority figures and that was why he was unable to keep
a steady job or settle into any church.  Finally, in 1992 he formed
Eden's Promise - a cult that promised to lead its members back to
Paradise."

The flight attendant passed their row with the beverage cart and
Mulder signaled for two cups of coffee.  Scully shifted the pile of
papers around on her lap and gratefully accepted the steaming
beverage from the attendant.  Mulder sipped his coffee and ran his
eyes over the notes that he had spread out on the tray table.

"I assume that the price of admission into Paradise was all of a
person's worldly goods?" he asked.

Scully tapped the tip of her nose with her forefinger.  "Right."

"Okay, tell me the rest."

"Well, details of the cult's activities are kind of sketchy right
now.  We should know more when we get there."

"And where, exactly are we going again?" Mulder asked.

"Centralia, Pennsylvania," Scully reminded him.  "It's an old coal
town.  Back in 1962 a fire started in one of the mines and no one was
ever able to put it out.  The fire has been burning now for almost
forty years.  In 1998 the federal government bought the houses and
business of the almost thirteen hundred residents of the town and
relocated them into surrounding communities."  She flipped through
her notes again.  "As of 1998, only forty-two people remained in
Centralia - mostly the elderly who refused to leave their homes."

"Nice, remote area... not a lot of need for a police presence with
only forty-two residents... good place to go to avoid prying eyes,"
Mulder speculated.

"Exactly," Scully agreed.  She played with the papers on her lap,
organizing them and stacking them nervously.  "Mulder," she began.
"What the survivor said about Martin's eyes... you don't... I mean,
it's not possible that it's..." her voice trailed off as she looked
at him pleadingly.

"Scully," he said, taking one of her hands in between both of his.
"When I got to the hospital today, Moore was waiting for me."  He
lifted his eyes to the overhead bins, remembering the scene he had
encountered when he had arrived at the hospital.  "Moore was dying
and no one could figure out why.  His heart rate was elevated; brain
activity was haywire - all over the place.  His internal organs were
shutting down."

Mulder gently chafed the soft skin on the back of her hand beneath
his thumbs.  Swallowing hard, he continued.  "I walked up to Moore's
bedside.  The doctors and nurses were running all over the place but
he was oddly quiet and calm.  He looked me in the eyes and asked me,
'Do you know what makes an ordinary man turn on his wife and baby
boys; his sweet little girls?  It's a dark, bitter evil - a sickness
that you didn't even know was growing inside of you...'"  Scully
watched quietly as Mulder swiped his hand over his eyes.  "He told me
that it was as if one moment he was a regular guy and the next moment
so consumed by a black, caustic rage that he couldn't control.  The
next thing I knew every machine in that hospital room began shrieking
and whistling.  The doctors and nurses pushed me out of the way and
as I stepped back I saw Moore's eyes roll into the back of his head
and Scully... I swear... I know I saw that same black film slide over
his eyes."

He trembled and Scully slid closer, pressing her body into his for
support.  "He died a few minutes later.  There was thick brackish-
colored blood streaming from his ears and nose, seeping into the
sheets.  Blood so dark it looked black... I started flashing my badge
around; ordering the sheets to be burned and the body to be placed in
the refrigerators at the hospital morgue until you could come down to
do the autopsy.  Then I called you and, well... here we are."

Scully shivered and stuffed the papers back into her briefcase.  She
tucked it back under the seat and settled her head on his shoulder,
her hand gripping his leg through his trousers.  They spent the rest
of the flight quietly lost in their own thoughts.


*********

The police had barricaded the main road into Centralia many years
ago because of the fire raging in the underground mines.  There was a
crack, reminiscent of an earthquake fault line that ran directly
across Route 61 and all over the town; steam and acrid smoke poured
up from cracks in the ground.  The hillsides around the town were
sprinkled with scorched, bared trees.  Mulder drove slowly through
the dying town, now bustling with the activity of police, federal
agents, members of the National Guard and coroners.  Bodies were
being tagged and placed into black bags before being stacked onto
Army trucks for transportation to the county coroner's office.

Mulder and Scully pulled out their badges and stopped a young police
officer that directed them to the agent in charge.

"Agents Mulder and Scully out of the Washington office," Mulder told
SAC Scott Dannon.

Dannon looked up with a face weary and sick from the carnage
surrounding them.  "Yeah, A.D. Skinner called and told me to expect
you.  What can I do for you folks?" he asked briskly, trying to hurry
the conversation along.  He wanted to go home, take a shower for
about ten hours and then crawl into bed with his wife and maybe never
crawl back out.

"We were told there were survivors, one of whom was apparently
interviewed by the local police," Scully said.  "We'd like to speak
with him as well as the officer who took his statement."

"There were eight survivors," Dannon said shaking his head.  Eight
people out of five hundred..."  He blew out an unsteady breath and
forced himself to focus on the agents standing before him.  "All of
the survivors were taken to the closest hospital."  He rubbed his
hand over his face, leaving trails of soot over his cheeks.

"Logan!" he shouted across the field.  A young police officer looked
up and jogged over.

"Yes sir?"

"These are Agents Mulder and Scully.  FBI - from Washington.  Give
them directions to the hospital where the survivors were taken," he
ordered.  Turning to the man and woman standing before him, he
continued.  "You'll send me copies of your interviews?" he asked,
happy to turn some of his duties over to someone else.

"Absolutely," Mulder agreed.

Dannon nodded curtly and strode off and the rising steam and smoke
of Centralia's burning mines quickly obscured him.

*********

Scully squinted at the directions Officer Logan had hastily scrawled
on a scrap of paper. "Turn left at the next light," she instructed.
"The hospital should be one block up on the right."   Mulder flicked
on the turn signal and glanced over at her as he waited for the light
to turn green.

"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head.  "Truthfully, Mulder, I don't know what to
think," she told him.  He nodded and stepped on the gas pedal,
turning the corner and following the signs to the visitor's parking
garage at the hospital.

They strode quickly past the reporters gathering outside of the
hospital doors and into the building, flashing their badges at the
woman seated behind the reception desk who directed them to the
emergency room.  Several minutes and another flash of their badges
later, they were talking to one of the attending physicians.

"Two of the victims are in critical condition," Dr. Campbell told
them.  "I don't know that they will make it through the night."  He
flipped through a stack of charts on the counter at the nurses'
station.  "Four others are still unconscious, although at least two
of them are showing marked improvement and I am hopeful that they
will regain consciousness shortly."

The doctor looked up at the two agents before continuing.  "Mr.
Gilbert is conscious and will be moved to another floor when a bed is
available.  His condition is guarded but stable."  The doctor set
down the charts and smoothed his hands over them.  "The final victim,
Veronica Holland, died en route to the hospital."

"Would it be possible for us to speak with Mr. Gilbert?" Mulder
asked quietly.

Dr. Campbell frowned.  "I would rather you wait until tomorrow," he
began.  Mulder moved impatiently and Scully laid a restraining hand
on his arm.

"It's vital that we speak with him as soon as possible," she urged
the doctor.  "I understand your concern for your patient's well-
being, but 493 people have died today.  Surely you can appreciate our
need to move quickly."  Scully's tone was polite and professional but
beneath it was the faintest hint of urgent pleading.

The doctor sighed and nodded.  "All right.  But I will trust you not
to overwhelm Mr. Gilbert," he cautioned strongly.

"Of course," Scully soothed, looking at Mulder for his agreement.
He nodded and Dr. Campbell led them down the hall and past the guard
stationed outside of the patient's room.

"This is it," he told them.  "Thirty minutes," he warned sternly
before turning on his heel and returning to his other patients.
Mulder and Scully entered the dim room cautiously.  Scully glanced at
her partner and tilted her head slightly toward the bedridden man,
indicating that Mulder should take the lead in questioning him.

"Mr. Gilbert," Mulder began.  "I'm Agent Fox Mulder of the FBI. This
is my partner, Agent Dana Scully.  We're hoping that you are feeling
up to talking to us for a few minutes about what happened this
morning."

"I already gave my statement to the police."  Dennis Gilbert looked
back and forth between the two agents wearily.  A big, muscled man in
his early thirties, Scully noted that his eyes seemed sunken and his
face held an unhealthy pallor.

"Please, Mr. Gilbert," Scully urged.  "We won't stay long.  I know
you have been through a terrible ordeal, but we really need for you
to help us understand what happened today."

The room was silent for a moment following Scully's plea.  "Mr.
Gilbert?" Mulder prompted softly.

Dennis Gilbert looked toward the window.  "I met Reverend Martin
eight years ago.  My girlfriend, Sandy, had heard about him from some
friends of hers who were always raving about the good work he was
doing at the church he had started.  Sandy went to one of his
services one week and was instantly hooked."  Gilbert's eyes traced
restlessly around the room, never settling on any one object for very
long.  "She talked about the Reverend all week, incessantly. Finally,
I agreed to go with her to his service the next week."

He picked at the sheet draped over his legs and looked at Scully.
"He was mesmerizing.  He said things that made such sense to me on a
base level, you know?"  His voice was pleading.  "I had a very
strict, religious upbringing.  My parents had a very literal
interpretation of the Bible and growing up in their household was a
living nightmare.  As soon as I was old enough, I left home.  I
floundered for years trying to find a church where I felt
comfortable.  I found that at Eden's Promise."

He sighed and rolled his head against the pillows, once again
staring out of the window.  "Jason Martin told us that Heaven was
attainable, here on earth.  He said that God never intended for us to
have to die to find rapture.  He said that we had to sacrifice our
worldly goods and follow him and only then would we attain paradise;
that we would enter Heaven's gate in this world and follow it into
the next."

Mulder stepped closer to the bed.  "Mr. Gilbert... did Jason Martin
speak often of the need to bring about your own deaths in order to
achieve Nirvana?"

"No!" Dennis Gilbert swung his head toward Mulder and then turned to
look at Scully.  "No," he said again, softer this time.  "He spoke of
a simple life. He said that paradise could be found working with the
land, living in a community of like-thinkers, away from the
distractions of modern society."  His eyes brightened with unshed
tears as he tried to explain the seductive pull of the fallen cult
leader.  "But then something changed.  Reverend Martin became
reclusive and withdrawn.  We wouldn't see him for days on end and
then suddenly he would be walking across the compound, muttering to
himself and tearing at his hair.  Then at dinner last night, he told
us all to gather in the meeting hall before breakfast this morning."

Gilbert took a deep breath and scrubbed trembling fingers over his
face.  "When we gathered in the hall this morning, Reverend Martin
was dressed in his ceremonial robes.  He told us that he had
experienced a vision, that enemies to this world were upon us.  He
said that our time was fast coming to an end and that creatures of
the dark would destroy us and we would be unable to enter Heaven if
we did not find some way of stopping it.  He ranted and cajoled; his
voice was thunderous -booming throughout the hall.  I looked around
the room and could see the people were enthralled, hypnotized by his
words.  He painted a picture of destruction and carnage, where
people's bodies would be torn asunder and the earth would be consumed
by fire and blight."

He shook his head.  "And then... then his voice grew soft and
compelling.  He told us there was a way out, a way to save ourselves
and to enter paradise together.  The side doors opened and several
members of our society wheeled in huge metal urns.  They began
pouring and distributing paper cups filled with orange juice.  The
Reverend told us that we would share this last drink and be together
forever."

Dennis Gilbert's head dropped forward, his chin pressed into his
chest.  "I looked around the room and everyone was looking at the
cups in their hands.  They looked scared but determined.  Sandy was
standing next to me, nodding."  His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Reverend Martin lifted his cup and said 'Drink, my friends.  Drink
and we'll find Eden's Promise together.'  Then he began to walk
around the room, urging people to drink."

His voice broke on a sob.  "People began to drink and within
minutes, they were falling to the floor around me.  Sandy wrapped her
arm around my neck and kissed me and she pushed my cup toward me."
Tears were streaming down his face.  "I didn't want to do it...
didn't want to die... but I didn't want to be without Sandy and all
of these people who had become my family.  In the end, I was a
coward.  I took a small drink, but it was enough to knock me on my
ass.  I collapsed to the floor next to Sandy and pulled her into my
arms.  I could feel myself losing consciousness and I looked up.  I
saw Reverend Martin standing nearby.  His eyes... God, his eyes..."
His voice trailed off.

Scully stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on his arm.
Gilbert lifted a tear-streaked face to hers and she nodded
encouragingly.  "His eyes... his eyes had always been this startling
blue, but this morning, they were black and so evil.  I was so scared
and I wondered whether we had followed him into heaven or into hell.
He stopped next to me and looked down and for a moment I could see
the clear blue of his eyes peer through the darkness and there was
such a look of utter sadness and despair in his gaze. But then the
blackness was back and he lifted his cup to his mouth... I guess I
passed out because the next thing I knew, I was waking up here."

They spent a few more moments, soothing the distraught man.  When
his sobs had subsided, Mulder called for the nurse and spoke to her
quietly.  She returned a few minutes later with a sedative.  Scully
leaned down and spoke softly to the grief-stricken man.

"Thank you, Mr. Gilbert," she said.  "I promise, we'll be in touch
again."  He nodded and clasped her hand in his briefly before sliding
into the sleep provided by the medication.

They stepped into the hall.  "I'm going to hang around here, see if
any of the other survivors wake up," Mulder told her.

Scully nodded her head.  "Okay, I'll go to the coroner's office - do
the autopsy."  Mulder stayed her with a hand on her arm when she
would have turned away.  She looked back at him, noting his worried
eyes.

"I don't want you in the autopsy bay alone with that... person.
I'll stay with you while you work - or else find someone to go in
there with you."  Scully shook her head at his fretting, thinking he
worried too much - then she recalled some very unwelcome memories so
recently dredged from her ordeal in Antarctica... and thought maybe
another human in the room might not be a bad idea.  She smiled
reassuringly at her partner.

"I'll find someone - I promise, Mulder.  Please don't worry - and go
do what you need to do."

Mulder nodded, clearly relieved, and pulled the car keys from his
pocket.  "Be careful," he warned.

"Always," she promised, pressing a small and warm palm against his
cheek briefly, before she tuned to go.

*********

Scully was slumped on a bench in the hallway of the coroner's
office.  She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand and rolled her
head against the wall.

"Scully."

She opened her eyes to see Mulder standing at the end of the hall.
She watched him walk toward her, fatigue evident in every step.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

"Agent Dannon stopped by the hospital and had one of his men give me
a lift," he told her, dropping down onto the bench next to her.  "You
look tired," he said, studying her face.

"They're swamped here," she said nodding toward the autopsy bay
doors.  "After I finished with Martin, I gave them a hand."

Mulder nodded knowingly.  "You ready to go?" he asked.

"I have to get changed," she said picking at the scrubs she was
wearing.

"Come on," he said, standing and holding out a hand.  "You can get a
shower at the motel."  Scully nodded and stood wearily.

They made the trip to the motel in silence; each lost in their own
thoughts. When they arrived at the motel, Scully headed directly to
the shower and Mulder picked up the phone to check his messages.  He
was standing by the window when Scully stepped out of the bathroom,
wrapped in her robe.

"Finished," she told him, toweling her hair dry.  She walked across
the room and laid a gentle hand on his back.  "Mulder?"

He turned and nodded absently, slipping around her to go into the
bathroom.  Fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opened and steam
billowed out into the bedroom.  Scully was lying in one of the beds,
wrapped in a pale blue nightshirt.  Mulder glanced across the room to
the other bed where she had piled both of their suitcases and then
back at her.  Scully lifted the covers and tilted her head toward the
pillow next to hers.

Mulder turned off the lights and reached for a pair of pajama
bottoms from his suitcase.  Scully watched in the dim light as he
dropped the towel wrapped around his waist; a sliver of moonlight
slanting in through the half-closed draperies illuminated his nudity,
causing a brief flare of longing which she firmly tamped down.  Now
was not the right time... they were both exhausted.  Turning away
from her Mulder picked up a pair of soft cotton pants and stepped
into them.  He slid under the covers and pulled her into his arms.

Scully rested her cheek on his shoulder and played with the sparse
hairs on his chest.  He turned his head, burying his nose in her
hair, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo she had used and
running his hand down her back.

"I was able to speak briefly with two of the other victims," he
said, his voice a rumble under her ear.

"And?" she asked.

"They both supported Dennis Gilbert's story that Martin had begun
acting strangely lately, and one of them mentioned an odd darkness in
his eyes while they were gathered in the meeting hall," he told her.

Scully's hand swept down his side, her fingers tracing patterns over
his ribs.  She closed her eyes.  "It was there," she sighed against
his chest.  "I found traces of it in the ocular and nasal cavities,
as well as in the canal of the ear.  I had it packaged as a biohazard
and shipped back to D.C. for analysis."

"What about the body?" he asked.

She shrugged.  "His parents are dead.  If his siblings don't object,
we'll arrange to have it cremated.  It's the safest way."  She felt
his chest rise and fall in a heavy sigh.

"What are you thinking, Mulder?"

He smoothed a hand over her hair.  "I think it's starting," he said
heavily.

She drew in a shaky breath.  "Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

She lifted herself up on her elbow and placed a small hand on his
chest.  "What if..." she bit her lip.  "What if it's been going on
for a while already?"


********************
end of chapter two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@..., and
Tnv099@...

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


~ Prologue ~

"If I quit now... They win."

But 'They' had already won; They'd already defeated the world.  When
he spoke those words to Scully in the dim hallway outside his
apartment, three years ago and mere minutes before a deceptively
innocuous looking bee unwittingly became a catalyst for the upcoming
battle... Mulder didn't know just how outnumbered they really were -
how outnumbered they had always been.  And he had no sort of grasp on
how far back it went, how many decades the Colonizers had walked
among the human race... and how many of them actually populated the
earth.

By the time he and Scully found out - really found out... it was too
late.  Colonization, as they had feared, was happening everywhere -
and actually had been happening for a very long time.

Slowly... insidiously... relentlessly.

Irreversibly.


It seemed as if one day was normal, just like any other day in the
life - and the next was insanity... but that's not really how it went
down.  It had been going insane for years and years, but Mulder
thought it was just your normal 'world-is-changing" sort of shit.
Cities growing bigger and meaner and more drugged-out... less people
believing in a Supreme Being, and more people out for only Number
One.

Maybe that would have happened anyway, but not as rapidly - not as
gruesomely.  And he supposed so many people like Scully and him, good
people who worked hard and did their best to make a difference in the
world... those people went about their regular business and never saw
the evidence of it because they had been living in it all their
lives.  Another culture, that's what it was... how could they have
fought against it?  They grew up in it.  Their parents, if not
completely taken over by it at a young age, at the very least allowed
it to happen.  There was no stopping it; Mulder could see that now.

On the day before he had begun to somehow understand, and believe,
what had become of their world as they knew it - and what was about
to continue to happen... on that day he and Scully had made a
monumental decision for themselves - had decided to put it all behind
them, and leave the Bureau.  This decision had not come about
lightly; they had agonized over it privately and in shared
conversation, for a long time.  Yet they had ignored what their
hearts and minds told them about the state of their careers - had
ignored the obvious, that it was time to stop it before the weariness
and desolation of their lives threatened to steal their very
humanity.

Both of them were so tired of the personal loss and the heartache
and the loneliness and uncertainty of life itself.  Their birthdays
had come and gone, with the gaining of another gray hair or two and
losing another year.  Then, a case - a monstrous case of murder - and
yes, they had seen worse... but this one was the final, proverbial
straw.  This one broke them - and made them decide, once and for
all.

Made them decide that they wanted a life - what there was left of
it, they wanted it.  Together.

And when, close on the heels of that decision, came the knowledge of
their world ending all around them - together they fled, when there
appeared to be no other choice...

***********************


~ Chapter One ~


The quiet stillness of the garden was shattered by the sound of
sandaled feet approaching.  One person broke free of the crowd and
stepped forward, embracing the man who waited for him peacefully.  As
his lips brushed over the man's bearded cheek, he cried out as if
struck by lightening and stumbled away, clutching his head in agony.

The crowd surged forward and several men laid their hands on the
quiet figure.  Violence erupted briefly before the crowd dragged
their captive from the garden.  As peace settled over the garden once
again, he held his head in residual pain and watched the retreating
figures of the crowd as they led their prisoner away.  The man fell
to his knees as his soul did battle with his demons.  Dragging
himself to his feet, he followed.

As the sun rose, regret was an acrid taste in his mouth and he took
himself to those who had conscripted him.  Railing at them bitterly,
he threw their blood money at their feet and left.  Standing on a
hilltop, seeing what he had wrought with his greed and anger, he fell
against a tree and was sick.  Collapsing to his knees, he coughed and
heaved, expelling the sickness and evil within him in an oily, black
pool of vomit.  Lurching to his feet, unable to live with his sins,
he prayed for forgiveness - and in the dawning pink light of that
Friday morning, Judas hung himself.

********

"Scully, I don't know about you - but I'm tired."  They were sitting
very close together on her sofa, empty wineglasses on the table in
front of them and a low-burning fire flickering in the fireplace.
Scully had leaned her head on his shoulder, one hand twined in his
and her breath soft and warm in his neck.  Warm - she was warm and
vital and alive, and Mulder's fears at that moment seemed really
silly - yet he couldn't shake it.  Even before the events of the past
week it had been nagging at him - and every day it got a little
stronger.  He was certain something monumental was about to happen...

"I'm wiped out too, Mulder.  Why don't we call it an early night?  I
think we could both use the extra sleep, don't you?"  She'd looked up
at him through heavy lashes, smothering a yawn against his
sweatshirt, and Mulder had squeezed her shoulders and dropped a kiss
on top of her head.  He'd hated to leave; it was cold out and
beginning to rain - he didn't want to drive home.  But they both
needed some decent sleep; they'd talked long and hard that evening
about the decision to quit the Bureau.

It wasn't the first time they'd discussed it but for some reason
they always stayed, always took that next case.  This time,
however... just talking about it wasn't going to work.

They'd come off a grueling case; a man who'd killed his entire
family, of a wife and eight children... for the simple reason that
they made too much noise while he was watching the evening news.  The
only reason he could give the investigating team, his eyes calm and
his manner placid and eerily sane as his deep voice had uttered the
excuse.  Then he'd held out his hands for the cuffs to be slapped
on... and had walked to the patrol car with a confident stride.

Scully had lingered next to the blood-spattered crib, with its
burden of identical twin infant boys, no more than three months
old... and her face had been awful to see.  She had needed the
support of Mulder's arm when she walked down the blood-slippery
staircase.

In the equally-bloody foyer the murderer, Darrell Moore, had paused
by the fallen body of his wife, Marjorie; for an instant he'd gazed
down at her with vague regret in his face, then he'd looked up and
met Mulder's unblinking stare, before allowing police to pull him
from the house.

Mulder had watched the patrol cars drive away, stepping aside for
the last of the stretchers to enter and take away the last of the
bodies.  He'd turned to Scully, wondering if she'd noticed the look
Moore had given him and the odd sheen of his dilated eyes... but the
face she presented was too pained and too heartsick - and he wisely
remained silent.  He'd put an arm around her shoulders, not caring if
anyone noticed and wondered at the familiarity of the gesture -
needing her contact and warmth as much as she welcomed his.

Now Mulder stood and stretched his stiff legs, knowing he should
leave before it got any later; they were both exhausted.  Scully
stood as well and detained him with one small hand as he moved toward
the door.

"Mulder, stay... it's late and nasty out; I don't want to be alone
and I think you don't either.  We still have so much to decide -" She
stared up at him with soft, tired eyes; the day had taken its toll on
her and they still had the bulk of the investigation to work through.
"Tomorrow we can think about what we want to do.  Right now I just
want to sleep."

Mulder nodded and followed her back to the bedroom, snapping off
lights as he passed them.  He didn't question whether Scully wanted
him in her bed, and Scully didn't ask.  Neither of them wanted to be
separated by so much as a wall between a sofa and a bed. They left
the lights off in the bedroom; Scully turned back the covers on both
sides while Mulder brushed his teeth with her spare toothbrush, and
he stripped down to boxers and undershirt while she ran water in the
sink and prepared herself for sleep.  When she came out of the
bathroom clad in her blue satin nightshirt he was already in bed.

Mulder watched with sleep-heavy eyes as Scully slid between the pale
peach sheets; lying on their sides they regarded each other with
serious intent. He traced her pale face with a worried finger; this
day had been especially tough on her.  The killing of children had
always been horrible to contemplate, but Scully had the hardest time
with it, her innate professionalism and impartiality taking a
nosedive when their cases turned up this sort of atrocity.  He leaned
in closer, until his lips could touch her, kissed her mouth gently
and whispered against her lips, "Sleep, okay?  Sleep now..." She
returned the soft pressure with a barely audible, "Um-hmm..."

They slept.

*********************

The tall, slender figure in the draped black wool cloak wouldn't
speak to him in words.  Instead she stood there with her equally-
slender hands held palms-up, at waist-level - and stared hard, as if
just by staring her message would get across.  Although her stare was
tangible he could not quite see her face, but in this instance it
didn't seem to matter, for Mulder understood every word without the
benefit of identity.

'It's time.  You know it - your woman knows it.'

"My woman... are you referring to Scully?  What do you know of
Scully?"

'I know of her. She's your woman - she has always been yours - and
it's time.  Get her away from here.'

"Why?  Why should we leave?  I don't understand."

'Yes, you do.  You know what I'm talking about.  You've always
known.  The world as you know it will cease to exist - and you will
not live if you don't leave as soon as you can.'

"What's going to happen?  Can you at least tell me that much?"

'You know.  The oil...'  At the mention of the word 'oil', the
figure in draped black wool raised her slender fingers and eased back
the hood covering her head; he could see a glint of deep reddish-
brown wavy hair - and something about the way it curled around the
edges of the wool made him think of...

"Samantha!"

Mulder awoke with a choking gasp of panic, drenched in a cold sweat.
Eyes wide with residual fear, the dream was so vivid in his mind, the
word 'oil' reverberating through his suddenly aching head.  He
glanced down when a small movement beside him caught him unawares; in
his nightmare-state he'd forgotten Scully lay beside him still deeply
asleep.  In the grip of the dream he must have reached out for her
comfort, for his fingers were laced tightly through hers.  On his
back staring up at the ceiling, Mulder forced himself to take deep
calming breaths as he filtered the details of the dream past his
still-pounding head.

He could still feel her presence, smell her.  She'd smelled the way
he'd remembered the adult Samantha had smelled - that same delicate
perfume.  Although the face had been obscured in some way, he still
knew her.  And though he knew the adult Samantha was not really his
sister, not really human... she'd been as close as he'd ever gotten
to having Samantha all grown up.  And the sense of loss was just as
great, because this time she had only been in his dream to warn him.

If there had at least been a voice... but no, she had communicated
with him using thoughts instead of words.  The feeling radiating from
her had been urgent; Mulder had felt it and had reacted to that
urgency with an elevated heartbeat and a cold panic.  As he lay next
to Scully and reconstructed the dream Mulder could feel again the way
this Samantha's thoughts had curled around him, thick and tangible.

Once, he and Scully had found themselves stranded in McGrath,
Alaska; on the tail end of a manhunt that had dragged them from
Atlanta to Anchorage they had gotten snowed in during the worst
winter on record in Interior Alaska and had not been able to fly out
when scheduled.

Walking back to the motel from a small caf, where he and Scully had
eaten lunch, Mulder had felt ice fog curl around his face and invade
his throat as he struggled to keep his breathing shallow; the frozen
condensation was thick and tangible... just the same as this mental
conversation had been, invading him within the dream.  It had chilled
him then and the remembered feel of something so viscous and alien
was doing a number on him yet again.

"Mulder, what is it?  You're shivering..." He gave a start - so deep
within his thoughts that he'd never felt Scully stretching beside
him, or sitting up next to him and laying a hand on his tense arm.
He shook his head to clear it and looked down into her sleepy eyes,
kissing the top of her head.

"I had a dream, Scully - and I think we need to talk..."

*******************

She thought he was a nut... he could tell.  After he'd replayed the
dream for Scully, she'd looked at him with worried eyes.  "Mulder, it
was a dream, nothing more than that.  Not surprising that you'd have
a disturbing dream; God, I've had my share of them!  And today was
awful for both of us.  Add that to all the talking we've been doing,
about leaving the Bureau... I'd be more surprised if you didn't have
a nightmare."

Mulder leaned up against the headboard; all through the telling of
it he'd been sitting straight up in bed as stiff as could be.  Now he
tried to relax and winced at the ache in his abused back.

"This wasn't a nightmare, exactly - more like a warning.  She was
warning me - us - to leave, Scully.  And she knew about the black
oil."   Mulder rubbed at his eyes, then met Scully's still-worried
gaze.  "Over the years I've learned to trust my instincts, and right
now every instinct I have tells me to run a mile and take you with
me."  He reached out a hand and wound his fingers through Scully's,
noting their icy feel.  She returned the squeeze of his grasp but her
voice showed her skepticism.

"Mulder, think about it - where would we go?  If this is indeed some
sort of telepathic warning, if in some way you have been contacted
about the possibility of alien colonization... then where could we
run?  Wouldn't that colonization be everywhere?  Wouldn't it be
impossible to escape?  All this time we've been told that once
colonization began it would be irreversible.  If we believe it, that
there are aliens waiting to harvest us like a crop of potatoes..."
Mulder's angry retort broke through her reasoning.

"If?  IF, Scully?  Jesus!"  He jumped up and away from the bed,
pacing around in frustration.  "After all you've seen, all that both
of us have seen... you can still find a way to doubt?  Just as you
said, we've been told.  Over and over again we have been told about
it, been involved in it, dragged into it.  Are you forgetting the
virus?  Forgetting what you went through, how you almost died?  No,
actually worse than that... how you almost became a little sustaining
meal for one of those bastards' offspring!"

He reached her side and a hand shot out, grasping Scully's arm and
jerking her to her feet.  Mulder pulled her up against him until they
were nose to nose.

"I haven't forgotten, Scully.  What it felt like to stand there in
front of a vat of green death, seeing you floating in it, knowing you
were a whisper away from something that horrendous.  This time a
worse fate than death... nurturing one of those... things... inside
of you.  Knowing that when it burst from your chest the Scully I knew
would be nothing more than a memory and I'd have to find a way to
kill something that had been a part of you, no matter how hideous
that part truly was..."

He found himself shaking with anger, not so much at his partner but
against everything they'd fought - always fighting an enemy of some
sort.  Always another monster, either human or otherwise.  God, he
was tired of it.  He leaned his newly aching forehead against
Scully's and shuddered when her arms slowly came about him; he eased
his grip upon her arms and hugged her as tightly as she was holding
him.  She ran a soothing hand along the back of his neck and her
small whisper was hoarse in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, shhh, Mulder... so sorry.  Of course I remember; I've
never forgotten it either, though I wish to hell I had.  I knew what
was going to happen to me, I really did - somewhere in my
consciousness I knew.  That I was going to die in the most agonizing
way, that my mind would be cognizant of everything as it happened to
me.  What was growing inside me... God, Mulder..."

She pulled her wet face from his shoulder and stared at him.  "It
communicated with me.  It was only an embryo of sorts but it had a
fully developed mind - it told me.  Horrible things... it told me and
as it told me it was enjoying itself, Mulder - enjoying the pain and
the overwhelming fright I was feeling."  She shivered and her eyes
flooded anew with hot tears as the torturous images she'd held inside
for so long were finally allowed to escape.

Mulder cradled her in his arms and rocked her back and forth,
nonsensical murmurings of comfort warm against her temple.  In a
moment of shared reflection he found himself fighting to banish her
nightmares, instead of the other way around... and glad to be the one
at her side in the night, giving her support.

***************************
end of chapter one
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Scully..."
"Yes?"
"Marry Me..."

"Yes."

Chapter Fourteen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Believe the Words...'
http://char.chaffin.com

As promised, I've added a folder in the Bookmarks section linking to
three excellent pages with a great deal of information about copyright law and
where fanfic stands in relation to it. In light of the Lycos debacle, it's a
topic of no small interest.

         Just follow the link below and click on 'Bookmarks.'

         -- Foxsong
         Moderator
______________________________
AXF
The list for all types of X-F Fanfic
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/all-xf
______________________________


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You may have already heard that Tripod is shutting down sites containing
any and all fanfic (not just X-F). It now appears that Angelfire sites are
subject to this as well.

         If you have such sites, back them up immediately, and please warn others
to do the same!

         I am in the process of gathering up a list of sites with legal
information on fanfic and copyright laws; I'll add this list to our Files page
later today.

         -- Foxsong
         Moderator
______________________________
AXF
The list for all types of X-F Fanfic
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/all-xf
______________________________


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]