Mulder entered the sterile reception area of the hospital.  "Charles
Scully's room, please?" he asked the girl behind the desk. 
"Um...that's room 203 on Level 2."  She replied with an empty-headed
expression. 
  "Thanks." Mulder went to one of the elevators, and punched the Level
2 button.  Room 203 was the second door on the left.  He knocked
gently, and went in when he heard a muffled "Come in."  Margaret Scully
sat in her usual chair beside her son's bed, holding tightly on to his
hand.  Bill Scully sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, by
the window.  When he saw who had entered the room, he scowled.
  "Mrs Scully?" Mulder said tentatively.  Margaret turned around.
  "Hello, Fox.  Are you looking for Dana?"
  "Uh, yeah, actually.  But I also wanted to come in, you know, and see
how Charles was doing, too.  And how you're doing."
  "Well, we're all doing just fine, thank-you.  Now that you've seen
that, I think you can leave." Bill spoke from his corner.
  "Bill!" reprimanded Mrs Scully sharply.
  "No, no.  It's all right.  I just wanted to look in, and pay my
respects." Mulder said to Margaret.  "And I just wanted to let you
know, that if there's anything I can do..."
  "Thank you, Fox."  Margaret managed a small smile of gratitude.
  "Yeah, well, I think you've done more than enough for this family as
it is."  Bill voiced bitterly.
  "I said that's enough, Bill!"  Margaret's voice took on a tone of
steel.  Bill looked out the window in annoyance.  "Fox, I sent Dana
home about twenty minutes ago.  She probably won't be back until
tomorrow."  
  "Thanks.  I'd better go now...I can tell your son doesn't appreciate
my presence."  Mulder took one of Margaret's hands and squeezed it. 
"Bill," he said coolly, nodding to Scully's brother, and then he turned
and left the room.  Bill waited about fifteen seconds before he sprang
to his feet and followed him out of the room despite his mother's
"Bill, don't!"  
  In the corridor outside, Bill saw Mulder's retreating form, and ran
to catch up with him.  When he was behind Mulder, he grabbed his arm
and swung him around.  Mulder eyed him coolly, a veiled expression in
his eyes.  
  "Why don't you just leave us alone?" Bill asked him angrily.  
  "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but..." Mulder began.  Bill
cut him off.
  "My problem is that ever since Dana got mixed up with you, we've lost
a sister, Dana's been abducted, got cancer...you seem to attract these
terrible things.  Can't you just leave her alone?  Let her be a doctor,
anything else but working on those damn X-Files.  I don't know what
they have to do with anything, but I know that they're mixed up in
everything somehow..."
  Mulder regarded him with an impassive expression.  "You may not have
noticed, Bill, but Dana is a grown woman now. I've tried to convince
her to leave the X-Files, to get as far away from me as possible...but
she won't listen.  Unlike you, I respect her decision."
  Bill's expression of anger faded somewhat.  "It's just that she's my
only sister now...you know?  I just couldn't stand it if something
happened to her too."  He sighed.  "Promise me...promise me you'll look
after her."  
  Mulder nodded slowly and turned to walk away.  "Mulder!"  Mulder
turned back to Bill.  
  "Do you love her?"
  Mulder's expression registered no surprise as he met Bill's hostile
gaze.  After a couple of moments, Bill slowly nodded, then turned and
went back 
to his brother's room.


Jeremiah Smith was feeling quite satisfied with himself.  He had only a

couple of loose ends to tie up before he could count his mission
completed.  He made the quick metamorphosis into the male nurse whose
face he had used before, and stepped out of the cubicle, and then out
into the corridor.  His feet knew the path to Charles Scully's room
without much thought required from him now...he had been keeping an eye
on his progress for some time.  He had been hoping that Nature and/or
the medical professionals would correct the issue at hand, but it
seemed that more direct action was required.  
  Jeremiah Smith entered Charles Scully's room.  The brother did not
appear to be present, and the mother was asleep with her head resting
on her son's bed in the darkened room.  Jeremiah took a quick look in
the hallway, but saw nobody...not that he really expected to.  The
halls were usually pretty quiet at 11pm.  Softly, he crossed back to
stand on the side of the bed opposite to Mrs Scully.  Jeremiah placed
his palms on Charles' chest and then closed his eyes, focusing his
thought on the healing of this human.  After a couple of minutes of
intense concentration, he opened his eyes, and examined all of the
equipment surrounding Charles.  He smiled in satisfaction.  Looking at
Charles, he saw him begin to stir.  Jeremiah quickly moved to the
intravenous drip and pretended to be making some sort of adjustment to
it.  Mrs Scully woke up as soon as she felt her son's hand grasp gently
at hers.  "Charles?  Charles?"
  "Mom?" came the voice weakly from the bed.
  Mrs Scully began to weep tears of joy as Jeremiah played the part of
the amazed nurse, and then left, ostensibly to get the doctor.  After
he had found her, and told her the miraculous news, he headed out of
the hospital, humming to himself.  "I think that pretty much wraps it
up," he thought to himself in satisfaction, as he walked away into the
darkness.

  Scully put down the phone, and let the waves of relief wash over her.
 Before long, the tears started...tears that she had been too afraid to
cry while her brother still lay barely clinging to life, but that now
forced themselves out at the revelation of his complete and seemingly
miraculous recovery.  She began to head back to her bedroom in the
midnight darkness of her apartment, when a sudden knocking at the door
made her jump.  Quickly, she headed to the door and opened it, to see
no one there.  She looked down the hall to see the form of Mulder's
retreating back.  "Mulder?" she called after him in a puzzled voice. 
He turned and walked back to her door.                             
"Scully?  Did I wake you?"  
  "Uh, no..." she said.  "What are you doing here, Mulder?"
  Mulder regarded her for a moment.  "I talked to your Mom at the
hospital, and she said that she'd sent you home...I just wanted to stop
by and...and make sure you were okay."  Mulder's face did not give away
the half-truth he had just told her.  Seeing her so drawn from her
grief at her brother's condition made him angry with himself that he
had had the presumption to think of telling her that they were
reassigned to the X-Files.  How dare he intrude on her grief in this
way.  
  Scully examined his expression.  She recognised the signs that
heralded the fact he was holding something back, but she was equally
sure that he would not be forthcoming.  
  "Actually Mulder, I just got off the phone with Mom.  It seems that
Charles has regained consciousness.  Not only that, but he has made a
full recovery that just falls short of being miraculous.  The doctors
are all at a loss to explain it...but," she smiled a little wanly "I
think that I can forgo my need for a scientific explanation this one
time.  I'm just glad that he's going to be okay."  Her voice broke, and
a rogue tear managed to escape her iron control to slide down her
cheek.  Wordlessly, Mulder stepped forward and enfolded her in an
embrace.  Almost of their own volition, Scully's arms slid around his
torso and held on tightly, as they stood for a moment; Mulder gently
stroking her hair, and Scully listening to the reassuring rhythm of
Mulder's heartbeat.
  After an indeterminate length of time, they broke apart.  Mulder then
gently took her face gently in his hands, and as he had done
occasionally in the past, he tenderly kissed her on the forehead. 
Scully let herself lean forward into that kiss, and then reluctantly
dropped her arms and pulled away from the embrace.  "Would you like to
come in?" she asked, wiping her eyes.  
  Mulder looked at her, his own eyes moist, considering it while
conflicting arguments raged in his mind.  "No, I'd better go." He said
finally, and began to turn to leave.  Scully grabbed his hand before he
could do so.  
  "Mulder?  What is it?  You didn't just stop by to see how I was
doing.  There was something else, wasn't there?"  Mulder didn't answer,
but his gaze dropped from her questioning one.  "I've got to go." He
repeated, and turned and walked away down the hall.  Scully stood in
the doorway for a couple of seconds, and then took action.  Half
running, she stormed down the hallway and grabbed Mulder's arm,
swinging him around.  "Damn it, Mulder!  I'm not going to let you keep
doing this to me.  I know that you think that you're protecting me, but
by shutting me out, you're doing their work for them.  Our only hope in
beating those bastards is by working together.  What the hell are you
looking at?"  This last was directed to the occupant of the apartment
closest to where this discussion was being held who had opened his door
and was observing the proceedings.  The middle-aged man looked at her
owlishly.  "This is official FBI business, sir, I suggest you return to
your apartment." She said in steely tones.  The man prudently withdrew.
 Scully lowered her voice.  "Why do you think they have tried so hard
to separate us?  With or without the X-Files, they're afraid of us, of
what we've achieved, of what we can still achieve; but only as a team."
 Scully moved her grip from Mulder's forearm to take his hand in hers
again.  "You said it yourself.  You said that I made you a whole
person.  Well, it works both ways, Mulder."  
  Mulder looked at her with tears in his eyes.  "If it wasn't for me,
your sister would still be alive.  You'd probably be married by now
with a couple of kids."  He placed his hand gently on the back of her
neck.  "You wouldn't have some carcinogenic metallic device planted in
the base of your neck.  What you said may be true, but I just can't
stand and watch as your life is destroyed piece by piece."   
  Scully looked down.  "I can't deny the truth of what you're saying
Mulder.  If I hadn't been working on the X-Files, Melissa might still
be here today.  But that is not your fault.  These men commit murder
with impunity.  If we give in to these tactics these men will continue
to evade justice.  If what we've learned is correct, these men are
conspiring towards the demise of about five billion people.  If you and
I stop now, there's no one left to fight them, to fight the future
they've got in store for us.  If that happens, Melissa, Emily, Penny
Northern, your father, even Deep Throat...their deaths will truly have
been for nothing.  If you and I can stop these men, whatever they're
planning, it will have been worth the cost."
  Mulder looked down at her, absently stroking the base of Scully's
neck with the thumb of the hand he had placed there and had forgotten
to remove.  All of a sudden, he was overcome with déjà vu.  He felt as
if Time had rewound itself, to the moments before the bee-sting...
  Scully looked into Mulder's intense gaze and her mind transported her
back into Mulder's hallway, where he had looked at her with that same
expression...
  Mulder lost track of all conscious thought, as he automatically,
inevitably gently pulled Scully towards him, Time playing more tricks
on him as it seemed to slow down to a lifetime per heartbeat...
  Scully dropped Mulder's hand and her hand came slowly up rest on the
back of Mulder's head, pulling him closer even as he pulled her,
feeling her eyelids begin to close ever so slowly as Mulder got so
close that she could no longer make out his features in the already
darkened hallway...
  Mulder felt an almost electric feeling shoot through him as their
lips touched...for the briefest of infinitesimal moments he paused...
  Scully hesitated for a fraction of a second...
The half-expected interruption didn't come this time.  In this moment,
the only thing that existed was knowledge of complete oneness and the
feeling of each other's lips on theirs at last...

  Time gradually took up it's measured beat again as Mulder and Scully
broke apart at last, each reaching a hand to gently caress the other's
face and then briefly sharing another kiss.  Later on there would be
discussions, explanations, declarations...but for now it was enough to
just stand in the dim light of the hallway in Scully's apartment
building, relishing the comfort of one another's arms.

  Scully's neighbour took his eye away from the keyhole at last.  "FBI
business, my foot," he grumbled, mostly to assuage the feelings of
guilt and embarrassment that spying on such an intimate scene had
evoked.  He shuffled around his apartment for a few minutes,
straightening this, examining that, before again trying the insomniac's
last resort.  He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, just in time
to catch a breaking news bulletin.  
  "Police have just taken into custody a priest who earlier this
evening attacked and seriously injured an airport employee, a Mr. John
Salinger, who was the target of two similar attacks recently by a young
girl.  Sources say that in a bizarre twist, it's alleged that Mr.
Salinger, who is also in police custody tonight, was in the act of
placing a bomb on a commercial airliner, due to take off with over two
hundred passengers in only a matter of hours.  The priest, whose name
is yet to be revealed, is said to have no recollection whatsoever of
the incident, and even more unbelievably, our sources have revealed
that this priest was called upon only days ago to perform an exorcism,
believe it or not, on the same girl that attacked initially attacked
Mr. Salinger."  The well-coifed newsreader let her insincere look of
intelligent concern be replaced by an equally insincere smile that
revealed a frightening number of teeth that were so bright as to almost
be a colour that did not exist in nature.  She turned to her co-anchor.
 "Well, Bob, I guess this one will have to put in the spooky file." 
Scully's neighbour flipped off the television in disgust as the
newsreaders shared a plastic laugh that grated on the ear.  "Like
anyone believes in that crap," he muttered as he shuffled off to bed. 
And with that reassurance, he flicked off the light switch, bathing the
apartment in comforting, absolute darkness.

                      THE END (at least, for now)



I hope you liked it!  :-)  This is only my first attempt, so beware my fragile ego.  - Kit

The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means. - Oscar Wilde