PRO RE

Nobody will ever believe this story. It happened to me—I lived it. I'm still living it, actually. Yet I find myself, even at this juncture, having difficulty accepting it as reality. Reality, hmph. The very word has a much different meaning to me now. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name's Holly Ray. I'm 34 years old, and the luckiest woman in the whole world. In any reality. I'll start at the beginning...hold onto your hats, this is a true X-File.

I was walking my dog Trigger. He was about 70 pounds and a nondescript mutt, colored all black except for a white streak on his chest. My husband Greg and I, along with Trigger and my cat Snoopy, were living in a motel in California. We'd only recently relocated there.

On the one side of the hotel where Trigger loved to walk, there was a low concrete wall with medium-height bushes between it and the hotel. As we walked past it one night around 12:30am, I thought I heard a noise. I peered through the darkness and could've sworn I saw movement. Curious, Trigger and I went to investigate.

Perhaps at this point I should digress and tell you about this television show which I loved more than anything else in the world. It was called X-Files starring, among others, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I really got into the show, as well as the truths it created, and wrote a lot of fan fiction and spent every extra dime I had on stuff relating to the show and its stars. I even shook hands with Mitch Pileggi once at a convention. He played Skinner. Ah, Skinner...but we'll get to that later...

So Trigger and I went behind the wall, behind a larger bush, and found a woman there, crouching down, with a gun poised to shoot us. Trigger sniffed her happily and licked her face. She looked scared, and tried to shoo us away. But I could only stand rooted to the spot, mouth agape in shock. I stared. Openly and unashamedly. What the hell was Gillian Anderson doing crouched behind bushes at my hotel??? To me, this woman was a carbon copy of Gillian Anderson. Or Dana Scully. Actually more like Scully than Anderson.

I took in the silky reddish hair, the color unmistakable even in the darkness. The eyes, so very crystalline blue, masked by suspicion. She wore a very Dana Scully-type business suit, this one being of a blush champagne color. She wore no coat, which was not surprising considering the California warmth even at this late date. I followed the trace of her arm and my eyes widened as I took in the Sig Sauer planted firmly in her right hand.

Why was Gillian Anderson dressed like Scully and holding a gun like Scully?

She spoke first. "Who are you?"

"Holly Ray." I whispered.

"You need to get out of here! Now!" she hissed, peeking through the branches.

Was I on Candid Camera? I was struck suddenly by a feeling in the pit of stomach. This wasn't Gillian Anderson.

But the alternative was impossible. How could this woman be...

"Agent...Scully?" I breathed.

She whipped her face up to look at me, her eyes widening in horror at the mention of her name. It was her, all right. At least, it seemed to be her. I could only stare. Her surprisingly strong hand grabbed my arm and yanked me down into a crouching position next to her. She whispered, "How do you know who I am?"

"So you are Dana Scully and not Gillian Anderson?" I asked incredulously. I decided if this was a prank, I may as well play along. If it was Anderson only acting like Scully, at least I could say I'd been had by my favorite actress.

"Who's Gillian Anderson?" she asked. "Wait, never mind. Just stay down and keep quiet!"

I shook my head. "I can't stay quiet with Trigger here. He's too damn stupid to stay quiet." I thought a moment, and then an idea came to me. "Are you hiding from someone in particular?"

She nodded, glancing furtively through the branches of the bush concealing her. "Yes. A man who hurt my partner and is trying to kill me."

Her partner??? Mulder??? I had to help her. Especially if she was who she seemed to be. "Then listen to me. You stay right here. I have to get out of here before Trigger gives you away."

"No, you'll be killed!"

"I have to. I know what to do. Just promise me you'll stay here until I come back for you." At her look of hesitation, I screamed in a whisper, "Trust me, Scully! Stay here until I come back for you!"

She looked into my eyes for a moment and seemed to make her decision based upon whatever she saw in them. "All right. But please be careful. This is no game."

I nodded solemnly and, checking all around to be sure no one was in sight, I led Trigger back out to the sidewalk and kept walking him as though nothing had happened. Truth be told, my heart was beating so fast I thought it'd jump clear out of my chest. Not only had I found Dana Scully hiding out on the side of my motel (fictional character though I knew her to be), but I was helping her escape a killer. The thrill of it had me almost dizzy, but I knew I had to appear nonchalant. Then I heard the footfalls coming ever nearer and gasped in surprise when a strong hand grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face its owner.

There stood a huge man dressed all in black. He had black hair and scary black eyes and brandished a gun like he didn't care who saw it. "What the—?" I began.

"Did you see a woman run by here?" he asked breathlessly.

Acting like an idiot, I stammered, "Uh—was she, uh, a redhead?"

"Yes! Where is she?"

I pointed across the street to the parking lot of an apartment building, which was like an alleyway with an exit at the other end. "She—she ran down there, sir!" I said, hoping I sounded convincing.

His horrible eyes pierced my own for a moment before he took off for the parking lot I'd indicated. I stared after him for a moment, then my paralyzation wore off and I continued walking Trigger to the end of the piece of lawn. Knowing what I had to do now, I took my dog down the nearby steps into the little foyer of the back entrance to the motel. I unhooked his leash and left him there, then went back outside. I kept looking around, praying that goon was still chasing a goose, and made my way back to Scully, breathing a sigh of relief at finding her where I'd left her.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet roughly. "Come on!" I hissed. "This way, follow me!"

Surprisingly she complied, and I led her to the back entrance. We went in, and I leashed a confused Trigger, then opened the door to the hallway. No one was there, as usual. Trigger's leash in one hand, Scully's hand in the other, I hurriedly led her to the other end of the hall. It jogged over a bit, and I peeked around the next corner. There was a short, heavyset man headed our way. I pushed Scully back around behind the wall and pretended I was just walking my dog through the hall. The man turned and went down the adjoining hallway, thankfully not going the way we'd come from.

I then pulled on Scully's arm, leading her into the next hall and to the elevator. Thank God it was right there on the first floor—the doors opened immediately when I pushed the Up button. As the doors closed behind us, I breathed a sigh of relief and punched the button for Floor 6. "Where are we going?" she asked me, eyes wide.

"To my room." I answered simply. "Are you really Special Agent Dana Scully or am I on Candid Camera?"

"No, I'm really Dana Scully. Here," she said as she pulled her black leather ID wallet from her suit coat pocket. I took it and figured it looked very real. It actually looked just like the one in the opening credits of the show. "Who are you and how do you know me?"

"I'm Holly Ray, like I told you, just call me Ray 'cuz I hate Holly. How I think I know who you are is more difficult to explain. That'll be easier once we're back to my room."

She nodded and followed me as I walked out of the elevator. There was nobody in sight, and we went to my room, #683. I opened it, letting Trigger run in first. Then I entered, then Scully. I saw my husband laying in bed watching TV and said, "Hey, we've got company."

"We do?" Greg asked, sitting up.

"Yeah. You're not gonna believe this, Greg, but this is Special Agent Dana Scully of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Scully, this is my husband, Greg Ray." My mind was doing a very good impression of the skeptical Dr. Scully. I still had my doubts as to the true identity of the woman who stood beside me, but I really wanted to see Greg's face when I told him who she was.

Scully walked forward and shook my husband's hand while he gaped openly at her. I flipped the computer on while Greg frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Come on, Holly, this isn't really Scully," he said.

"It is," I said.

"I am," she said.

Greg only huffed as he put his sneakers on. "Bullshit. You're carrying this too far, Holly. Now you've got some woman in here pretending to be a fantasy character."

"Fantasy character?" Scully asked, arching her eyebrow at me.

"Greg, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this!" I pleaded, wanting him to believe me but knowing he never would. He didn't believe in anything or anyone. He was worse than Scully. At least she believed in science. Greg had the most closed mind of anyone I'd ever known. He'd never accept that this was Scully, no matter that she looked exactly like her. "She really is Scully!"

Again he said, "Bullshit!" As he grabbed his wallet and started toward the door, he turned his head and spat back to me, "If and when you decide to stop this—dumb stunt, you let me know. You've gone too far this time! It's become an obsession, and I'm sick of it! You hear me? Sick to death of it!"

My face must've been pale as hell, because Scully reached out to place her hand on my arm. "Are you okay?" she whispered as Greg stalked out the door.

I nodded slowly. "Damn him for not believing. Damn him all to hell. But in a way he's right. How do I know you are Dana Scully?" I asked.

"How do I know you are who you say you are?" she countered. "The fact that you even know my name gives me more than just cause for concern, don't you agree?"

"In your mind, yes."

"Then tell me how. How do you know me?"

I gritted my teeth, wondering exactly how to word my answer. "You're a fictional character created by a man named Chris Carter."

"What exactly are you saying?"

I sighed. If this really was Scully, she'd never believe me. Unless I showed her proof... "Let me show you something. Perhaps you'll understand better." I hauled out my taped episodes of my favorite show and popped the tape containing the episode 'Bad Blood' into the VCR. I hit play and sat on the other bed.

The episode began. Mulder running through eerie woods after Ronnie, catching him, driving a wooden chair leg through his heart, Scully running up and discovering the fangs in Ronnie's mouth were fake. And then the opening credits.

Poor Scully stared at the screen as though in a trance. I could see she didn't want to believe her eyes any more than my words. She continued to watch in horrid fascination until, quite suddenly, she hopped off the bed and stopped the tape. She seemed breathless as she turned to face me. "What the hell is this?!?!" she shrieked. I'd never heard Scully shriek before.

"I tried to tell you, Scully," I replied softly, fully aware of her internal struggle, "you're a fictional character."

"I most certainly am not!" she replied, her voice rising with indignation. She moved toward me and grasped my hand tightly. "Don't I feel real to you? I know I'm real!"

"Yes, you do." I squeezed her hand and she let mine go. "Too real. From my point of view, this can't possibly be happening. Can you understand now where I'm coming from?"

She nodded slowly. "I need to know more."

Knowing Dana Scully as I did, this came as no surprise, and I understood. She needed facts, evidence, proof. I turned my attention to the computer and got on-line, then punched up my Favorite Places folder, which contained almost nothing but X-Files websites. I clicked on one and motioned to the chair. "Sit here, take off your jacket, make yourself comfortable. This is how you're going to learn how I knew who you were."

Scully complied and removed her suit jacket. She took her seat. I offered her something to drink, she characteristically took spring water. I heard a puff of air escape her mouth at what she saw on the screen. She could only click through the websites, gasping ever so often at what she saw, what she read.

I sat on the bed nearest the computer, watching her face, watching the computer screen, watching her reactions. I still couldn't believe it. Dana Scully, sitting in my hotel room, looking at X-Files websites on my computer. I got a little teary-eyed, realizing that this was like a dream come true for me. But how? How had she gotten to my motel?

She turned to look at me, dumbfounded. "I—I'm a character on a television program. How do they know all this about me? Who are these people Anderson and Duchovny? I don't believe this. How do they know about our cases?"

I could only sigh. "I have no clue, Scully. So those cases discussed there are real? They're ones you and Mulder actually worked on?"

She nodded and blanched at the sound of her partner's name, before turning back to her surfing. I must have fallen asleep at some point, for my next memory was of her waking me. Her eyes looked tired and I heard her stomach rumble.

"I'll order room service," I said as I sat up. "What do you want?"

"Whatever you're having," she replied, avoiding my eyes. "I learned quite a bit about the show on the Internet. I think I'm more confused than ever. It just doesn't make sense. Where am I now that my life has been turned into a TV show?"

I ordered dinner, then relaxed on my bed, watching her every move. "Don't say I sound like Mulder," I said, giving her a half-smile, "but it sounds to me like you and that goon somehow got from your reality into this one."

"What? That's not possible."

"Ever the skeptic, huh, Scully? Come on, how do you explain the information right before your very eyes?"

"I can't explain it."

"Typical X-File then, right?"

She nodded slowly. "This is more up Mulder's alley than mine. Oh, God, Mulder! He must be frantic! If I'm here, I couldn't possibly be there—wherever he is, that is."

"Listen, Scully, I'm sure he'll be fine. For now, we've got to figure out a way to get you back to him."

"You have an idea?"

"Not really. You've investigated this weird shit more than I have. What's your take on it?"

"Assuming that your hypothesis regarding a reality shift is correct, the only thing I can think of is to formulate a scientific theory as to how such a shift could possibly occur." Scully returned to the computer, where she started doing a search on the Internet for such information.

"Good. You use science, I'll use my imagination. Maybe between the two of us, we'll get this under control."

She cocked her eyebrow at me and said with a smile, "Mulder would like you." She paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "Let's suppose for a moment that alternate realities do exist."

"Okay."

She looked startled that I had responded exactly as her partner would've. "How do you explain why I'm in this reality instead of my own?"

I thought for a moment. "Perhaps something you did triggered your movement from yours into mine. Or...maybe..."

"Maybe what? What aren't you telling me?" Scully pulled the chair over until she was seated in front of me, ready to listen intently. So I just blurted it all out, wondering if this logical scientist/doctor was going to give me as hard a time as she always did her partner about outlandish theories.

"Okay, three weeks ago I had a very strange dream. There was this, for lack of a better word, Being. It came to me through a sort of haze. I couldn't see it, but somehow I knew its features. I came to understand many things, yet I did not truly understand until now. The extraterrestrials you and Mulder encountered in Antarctica, the ones the Syndicate made a pact with, they are one of a great number of alien lifeforms. The Syndicate is only aware of the ones you and Mulder have...er...met. They have no idea any of the others exist. The Being who came to me is the head of a very friendly species. They look very much like the ones people claim to have sighted: the large, black, almond-shaped eyes; the small, thin, straight-lined mouth; the holes on either side of their heads; the almost-flat nose on their face; the long fingers; the grayish skin tone. It's all there. The public has been seeing them, but the aliens your Syndicate is dealing with have hidden the existence of any other alien races from these men because they feel if the men knew of their existence, they would no longer barter, and the bad aliens would lose the upper hand. The Consortium just thinks their alien friends are planting fake aliens to mislead the people of Earth."

Scully's eyes were wide throughout my narrative. Yet her face bore no sign of her true feelings. She was judging me, gauging my story on the validity she tried to find behind my eyes. I paused for a moment, trying in earnest to convey that truth to her presciently, then continued.

"The alien communicated his name to me as Iitiayli . They have no gender, but it's infinitely easier for me to refer to it as a him. His mouth did not move. I could more hear his thoughts than anything. He said they communicate telepathically, they can all hear within their minds what anyone is thinking. He knew of what had been done to the people he called 'The Truthseekers.' I understand now he meant you and Mulder. He knew it all. They have been powerless to help you, but said that soon he would be coming to your aid, and that it would fall to me to assist you. I now believe that he was referring to the goon's gunshot. I think he did shoot you in the head, but that Iitiayli somehow rubber-banded you into my reality at the precise moment of impact so that you could live. In order to save your life, Iitiayli had to remove you from your reality."

I paused again as I saw Scully's features soften. It seemed to me she was taking my words at face value, thank God. I continued, more sure of myself.

"Given that Iitiayli or his people are responsible for your being here, I don't think there's anything you and I can do to facilitate your return to your reality. And I think that when you go, I'll be going too. I only hope they remember to send Snoopy along for the ride. She's all I have left."

"Are you certain you're not a female version of Mulder? First alternate realities and now...aliens?"

I chuckled. Just then, room service arrived, and we ate in silence. I kept stealing glances at her, fighting the urge to pinch myself in order to fully believe what my gut told me to be truth. We finished our food and I placed the tray on the floor in the hall outside the room door.

I continued as though our conversation had never been interrupted. "I have always believed in paranormal phenomena and in the existence of extraterrestrials, although my experience with either leaves much to be desired. I'd even considered from time to time the existence of alternate realities, though I fear that stemmed more from my longing to exist in fantasy worlds than from any scientific hypotheses. Even now I question my sanity as I sit here holding a conversation with a legendary, yet mythical, character."

"Stop calling me that! I am real!" she fumed.

"I'm sorry, Scully. I just feel like I've completely lost my marbles."

"I'm only two steps behind you."

I smiled, then my serious face reappeared. "Assuming, as we are, that Iitiayli played a role in bringing you here, I have to wonder at his purpose. Why do this to you? To Mulder? And why send you to me?" She didn't respond. It was obvious she was beat from the events of the day. "Scully, you look tired. Let's get you a room so you can rest. I'd just have you stay here, but I think Greg would flip his lid and you don't need to deal with that. Do you mind if I stay in your room with you?"

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "No, that would be fine. Are we being overprotective here?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

"Well, I'm just trying to make you feel more at ease. I figured if I started acting like a guard dog, you'd feel like Mulder was here instead of someone you hardly know." She smiled her thanks as we headed for the room door. "Wait!" I placed a restraining hand on her arm and grabbed my baseball cap and sunglasses from the nearby coat rack. "Put these on. Pretend you're blind."

"Why?"

"If someone recognizes you as Gillian Anderson—"

She nodded as she pulled the hat down tightly on her head and placed the glasses over her large eyes. "Right. We don't need that on top of everything else."

"Just keep an eye out for that goon who was chasing you," I warned unnecessarily.

We had relatively little difficulty checking Scully into a room on the third floor, using the name Gabrielle Ray. I told them she was my sister-in-law. She played the blind act perfectly, and we were soon in Room 313.

"I'll be right back. Lock the door, okay?"

She nodded and wearily sank onto the only bed in the room. I went back to my room and gathered some items: a nightgown for each of us, a 2-liter of soda, some toiletries, a change of clothes for both. She'd just have to endure the baggy look until we could get her properly outfitted. Then I wrote a quick note to Greg.

G—
Had to help her. Sorry you're so confused.
-H

Damn him, anyway. She really was Dana Scully—of this I had no doubt. And it was my responsibility to safely guide her through this journey she'd inadvertently made into my world. I wondered how long she'd be here, and felt a dull ache when I thought of her just snapping back to her reality without any chances for good-bye. This thought firmly embedded in my brain, I raced down to her room and knocked softly on the door. After a minute or so I heard the slide of the chain and the click of the lock, and soon I was inside, showing her what I'd brought. Thank God, I thought. She's still here. For now.

Once she'd changed into one of the nightgowns, Scully crawled into bed, looking uncharacteristically tired. "I'm exhausted," she said, like she had to explain.

"Maybe your reality shift is having an adverse effect on your body," I offered.

"Maybe..." she murmured as she drifted off.

Having changed into my nightgown, I sat in a chair and just watched her sleep. I still couldn't quite believe she was here. Two hours passed, and my racing mind had eventually slowed enough for me to realize how tired I was. I didn't feel comfortable enough to climb into bed with her, so I opted for the floor.

As I gently removed a pillow from her bed, she said, "You can sleep here if you want."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Mm-hm. It's okay. Floors aren't very comfortable."

She had a point. I felt so very honored. This seemed to me to be the ultimate act of trust on her part. She was letting me, someone she knew very little about, to sleep side-by-side with her. So I slipped under the covers and was soon sleeping.

The next day Scully and I both slept in, and finally got back to my room around 11am. It was Saturday, but Greg was nowhere to be found. I surmised he'd actually taken off, having had enough of what I knew he thought to be the Scully charade. We'd booted up my computer and were preparing to go on-line when the motel room door banged open. Greg grabbed Trigger's leash and hooked it to his collar. He stopped and looked at us and said, "I figured you'd still be here. This is so damn stupid!" Then he left with the dog.

"I'm sorry, Ray," Scully whispered, looking into my eyes. "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble."

"The trouble existed before you got here, Scully. Don't give it another thought. If he can't accept reality, he can sod off."

Scully laughed tersely. "Reality. What a joke. Why do you call me Scully?"

"Because that's how I know you. That's what Mulder calls you. Would you rather I didn't?"

"No. I like it okay. It's comforting in a way."

"Reminds you of Mulder?"

She nodded and turned back to the computer. As she continued her research, I went out onto the balcony and soon saw Greg and Trigger coming along the side of the building, nearing the spot where I'd found Scully. I watched sadly, knowing that whatever was about to happen to me, Greg would not have any part of it. He was just so stubborn about things he didn't understand. If he was even Greg anymore.

Before I could blink once, I saw a familiar man running up to them. The man and Greg exchanged words, then Greg pointed up to where I stood on the balcony. I froze and held my breath as the goon looked up. He nodded his head and laughed a maniacal laugh I could hear very clearly from six floors up. He then pulled a gun out and shot Trigger, who went down with a yelp of pain. In a flash, the man had pointed the gun at Greg's head and fired, sending bits of him flying everywhere. There they lay, my husband and my dog, blood and guts all over the ground. The man looked up at me. I gasped and turned to run back into the room.

"What is it?" Scully asked, looking up from the computer.

"He—God, Scully, he shot them."

"What?!?" she was on her feet checking her gun. "Who?"

"That goon—the one who was after you. He shot Greg and Trigger. He's coming here. Greg showed him where we were before he killed him."

"I didn't hear gunshots!"

"If it's the same gun he had when he ran past me last night, it's got a silencer on it." I felt like collapsing into a heap on the floor, but Scully was in danger, as was I. I grabbed my cat and threw her into her carrier. "Come on, Scully, we've got to run!" I yelled.

But it was too late. I heard him banging on the door. "I know you're in there, Agent Scully!" he sing-songed.

We were both terrified. I could see it on her face. Then I had an idea. "Scully, give me your gun and answer the door!"

"What? He'll kill me! And then you!"

"No, I'll get him before he gets you. He'll want to take a moment and savor his victory. He'll hesitate just long enough for me to get a shot at him."

"Do you know how to shoot this thing?" she asked.

"No. Show me." Scully quickly did so, and I prayed for a true aim as I held my breath. I'd never been so scared in my whole life. Ever.

Scully nodded to me and I nodded back. I could tell she thought she was about to die, but she obviously felt she had little choice at this point. She grasped the doorknob in her hand and turned it. She threw the heavy door open, startling the goon. He soon regained himself and leered at her, pointing the gun at her head. "Say goodbye, bitch!" he seethed.

I took aim as best I could. Her intelligence training had her standing against the wall, giving me a clear shot from the darkness of the room. I made a silent prayer to the Powers That Be and pulled the trigger three times. The man fell to the ground in surprise and died instantly.

Everything happened so fast, I now struggle to recall every detail. Scully looked at me in amazement, I think, having a hard time believing I'd shot the guy once in the head and once in the chest, considering I'd never before even touched a gun. I handed the gun to her, grabbed my purse and the cat carrier, and we ran down the hall to the stairwell. I led the way to my car, fumbled for the keys in my purse, and finally got the car unlocked. I threw Snoopy in the back-seat, and off we went.

I'd gotten on a couple of different freeways, and we soon found ourselves in Culver City. Being somewhat familiar with the area, I took us to a motel where we checked into a room.

Neither of us had said a word the whole car ride. Now, as we sat on the beds in the hotel, Scully turned to me. "Are you okay?"

I think I was in a little bit of shock, for I only nodded.

"How can I ever thank you for helping me? I'm so sorry about your husband and Trigger."

Finally I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "It's okay, Scully. Everything happens for a reason. I can't believe I actually killed that guy!"

"I can't either. You're a good shot."

"Lucky for us both," I mused. She nodded. "Scully, is this what it's like being Mulder's partner in the FBI?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"I like it."

Her eyes widened. "You what?"

"This is more excitement than I've ever had in my life! I'd give anything to do what you do!"

"If you say so. It's no pleasant life wondering each day if you'll live to see the next. Wondering what the rat-bastard Syndicate is going to do to you today."

"I can only imagine from what I've read and seen. But your life is never dull. Especially with Spooky for a partner."

Scully laughed at my use of her partner's nickname. "I can't believe you know so much about us. It's so weird. You know everything about me and I know nothing about you."

"What do you want to know? My life isn't half as intriguing as yours."

"For one thing, what do you do for a living?"

"I work as a temp employee for various studios around here."

"I—do you mind my asking why you don't seem too...upset by the death of your husband?"

I lowered my head. "Because I don't care anymore."

Scully came to sit next to me, discarding her suit jacket on a nearby chair. "Why is that?"

"Oh, Scully, he's been such a thorn in my side, such a depressant, of course I didn't want him killed like that, but I would've left him anyway. He was so miserable, it's actually better for the world that he's gone. I know you must think me the most insensitive witch that ever lived, but I swear if I didn't know better he was trying to destroy me on purpose. I'd come to believe him to be a very evil man, with no other course in life than to destroy me. I can't explain it, really. He changed before my eyes from a sure-of-himself, loving guy into someone who tried at every turn to cut me down. If I didn't think it sounded so paranoid, I'd say someone got to him and turned him against me."

"But who?"

"I don't know that I'll ever find out. A guy can't just change overnight from one kind of person into a totally different kind. Not like he did. It's just not possible unless there was some outside evil influencing him. I had long ago mourned the loss of my real Greg, so this murder was just of the body that used to encase his spirit. That's been gone for a long, long time. Do you believe me?"

"I guess I have no other choice. If things are similar in this reality to those in my own, I can very easily believe that what you say could happen. I just wonder who you're so important to that they would want to do that to you."

"I don't know. And other things happened, too. Like I was writing this one piece of fan fiction. It was up to over 60 pages long. One morning I went to open it up and continue the story only to find that it had been erased! Not the file, but every word of the story! I had it saved on two places on the hard drive, and both files were completely empty. I'd also saved it to a floppy, yet the entire file had been erased from there!"

"That's odd. Anything else?"

"Well, we'd be watching television, and weird things would happen. Like the characters would be talking, and then something that totally didn't belong in the conversation, or in the show for that matter, would blurt something out that I could rarely understand. It was like the transmission was faulty, yet no one I spoke to had the same trouble during any of those programs. I'm thinking it was something subliminal, something meant only for Greg. He would always claim to never have noticed anything at all, but he had to have been lying. He refused to discuss it with me. I'm beginning to think the TV is how they got to him. That's all he ever did was watch TV, you know. I sound like a paranoid fool, don't I?"

"Well, not a fool, no. But those things you've described certainly are strange. What do we do now? We can't go back to your place."

"No. They'd figure out I killed the goon, and I'd just go to jail. I'm not going there. I'd rather die. Did you find anything out on the Internet before we had to leave?"

"No, not much. I suggest we go to the library tomorrow morning and see if we can't utilize their facilities. For now, I think we need some sleep."

I suddenly realized that I was indeed tired, and readily agreed. We took our clothes off and snuggled into our respective beds, Scully's gun in her hand under her pillow. My mind was racing as I fell asleep. I had many strange dreams that afternoon, but one which was very vivid gave me some of the answers Scully and I were seeking. I don't know how or why I dreamed this up, but I knew I had to find out if it was true.

When I awoke the next morning, it was with a fear that I had never known. I looked over to Scully's bed and discovered it was empty, the bed neatly made. I panicked, my mind running in hundreds of directions at once: wondering if it had all been a dream, wondering how I'd gotten there, wondering if Scully really existed. I hopped out of bed and called out her name, "SCULLY!"

She came flying out of the bathroom, holding a towel haphazardly over her naked body. She was soaking wet, with shampoo still in her hair. I'd obviously scared her clean out of the shower. "What?!?"

"Sorry. I woke up and you weren't there, I thought....I'm sorry."

She shook her head as a smile slowly drifted across her features. "You know, you remind me so much of Mulder. He freaks out like that, too, sometimes."

I could feel myself blushing. "Sorry, Scully. I have no right..."

"No, it's all right," she said, heading back into the bathroom. "Really, it is. In an odd sort of way, I can kind of feel Mulder's here with me, even though he's not. It's comforting. Just remember, I'm the trained agent here, okay?"

I laughed. "Okay. Thanks."

She smiled again and went to finish her shower. In the meantime I ordered room service which consisted of two bagels with real cream cheese, coffee and juice. She was excited by it when she came out, still unable to believe that I knew enough about her to know what she'd like for a late lunch-type snack.

We ate in companionable silence. Always having been one to inhale my meals, I finished first and rose to look out the window, trying to sort through the chaos of my mind. Finally I spoke.

"Scully, we have to find out exactly how you and the goon got to this reality. Could you tell me how it happened?"

She nodded in understanding as she swallowed the last of her bagel. "Mulder and I were on a case in California. It had led us to Glendale, exactly in the area of your motel. It all looked the same. I didn't realize any difference until you showed me that TV show episode. Mulder and I were—are—investigating a series of mysterious disappearances in and around Los Angeles. Normal, seemingly average, everyday people just vanishing. Mulder's theory, of course, included alien life. Although I am now more inclined to believe his theories, we had to do it by the book. We established a pattern as to who was being taken. All the victims, seven that we know of, had once taken part in a medical study. They'd been guinea pigs for something, yet their friends and family were never quite certain who or what was involved."

"One woman had gotten so suspicious as to follow her husband, now missing, when he went for what he referred to as a session with these people. She gave us directions. It was there that the 'goon', as you call him, started chasing me. He knocked Mulder out cold with the butt of his pistol. I couldn't, and still can't, understand his seemingly pure hatred of me. Why he wanted so badly to kill me. As I ran, I heard a shot and for a moment thought I'd been hit."

Scully frowned as she recalled the next event. "It was so strange. I thought I felt a bullet enter my head. There was a piercing pain emanating from the base of my skull. I tried to cry out, but couldn't. I felt myself being propelled towards the wall of your motel, then felt as though I'd gone straight through it. Then suddenly I was standing on the corner, staring about me. I remembered the man was after me and ran to hide behind those bushes. Shortly thereafter you and Trigger found me."

I closed my eyes as my dream came back to haunt me in perfect clarity. Without Scully's words, I had known what had transpired as surely as if I'd witnessed it all. She seemed to sense something of the sort, for she stood, still clad only in her towel and sent me a look that could've killed had it borne daggers. "What are you hiding from me?" she asked levelly. Her tone was now cool and distant, ever the consummate professional.

"Oh, Scully, I don't mean to hide anything from you. You must believe that. I want only to help you," I said, trying in vain to keep my voice just as level. But it trembled, I knew it.

"Holly Ray, you tell me what's going on, now! Are you somehow involved in this masquerade? Where am I really? Do you work for the Syndicate?"

Her voice was full of accusation and annoyance at herself for having trusted me too quickly. I could see she felt betrayed, felt that I had a part in this above and beyond that which I felt I played. "No, Scully, no. This is no plot against you. Not that I know of anyway. I'm just as much in the dark as you are. I have only my dreams from which to glean clues. The reason I asked you to recall the incident is because I needed to be certain that my dream hadn't been a lie. I needed to know that what I dreamed was what actually happened. And it was. Last night I had a very vivid dream which consisted of exactly what you just told me. It was like I was there as a third person, watching, but unable to assist. I saw it as one watching an episode play out on television."

Her eyes were still suspicious, but I could tell she wanted to believe me. Or needed to believe me. For without my explanation, without my assistance, she had no hypothesis, no theories, and no help. She moved toward me slowly, gazing intently into my hazel eyes as though trying to ferret through my deepest, darkest secrets. "Have you had any dreams other than these?" she asked, indicating with her hand that I should sit on the nearest bed.

I sat down and said, "No, it's only been just these two. After I watched your entrance into this reality in my dream last night, several key parts of it stood out to me, begging me to notice them. The first was the fact that you were in mortal danger. This leads me to believe you must be so again in order for you to return to your reality."

"What else?"

"Well, the second thing was the nature of the case you two were working on—the disappearances of the people around L.A. It occurred to me that Iitiayli could have something to do with that, although I'm not certain why."

"Are you implying his people abducted the missing persons we were attempting to locate?"

"It's only a vague impression, so I can't be sure why that stands out. And finally, this goon's intense hatred of you. It gives me chills, and I can sense something important regarding him, but I can't put my finger on it. It's almost like...well, like he was fake or something. I mean, I do believe he was deadly, but I think his presence and need to kill you have something to do with my first supposition."

"That I have to be in mortal danger to get back to my world?"

"Yes. And now I'm afraid that since I killed him yesterday, you won't be able to get back. It...concerns me."

Silence reigned. Scully seemed lost in thought, so I went to the bathroom to take my shower. I rather rushed through it, worried that she might have left or something. I didn't know what to think anymore. My mind was reeling from all I had finally learned and come to understand, and still from the shock of the whole situation. Here I was, wondering if Dana Scully was still on the other side of this bathroom door, when only a few days ago I was wondering what to do with her in my next piece of fan fiction. Strange, the curve balls life throws at you. With the help of aliens, that is.

I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.....to find Scully back in yesterday's clothes, sitting primly on the edge of her bed. She looked up at me, her eyes somewhat misty. I had redressed in the bathroom, and walked over to her, at last deciding to attempt physical contact. I knew she was big on her personal space, but for some reason I longed to comfort her as I knew she never allowed herself to be comforted. I timidly laid my hand on her shoulder as I stood directly in front of her. She stood, so that we were practically nose-to-nose (well, nose-to-chin), and made direct contact with my eyes. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity, during which, at some point, she raised her arm to place her hand on my shoulder. I stood about three inches taller than she, but she was obviously the more dominant of the two of us.

Finally she spoke, in a low, throaty voice. "I believe you. I have to believe you. As irrational as I find your story, I can think of no other truth to believe at this point. I am already away from the world I know, away from my partner, away from anything that makes sense to me. After all I have seen, after all I have experienced, I know you speak no lies. I could not explain it, would anyone ask me to, but I do trust you. And I thank you for believing enough for the both of us."

I couldn't fathom her words, the sincerity, the depth of feeling I could hear in her voice and see in her eyes. There were, for that moment, no barriers between us. It seemed highly illogical that Dana Scully would so quickly believe the dreams of a stranger to be truth, but there she was, standing so close to me, verifying me and showing implicit trust in what I had said. Perhaps my actions of the previous day had spoken louder than my words of today. Perhaps having put my life on the line for someone I didn't know (although I did know her, but as a fictional person) spoke to her in some way. Perhaps my oddities simply reminded her of Mulder. I doubt I will ever know what made her believe in me so completely, but I will forever be grateful for her willingness to accept me at face value and, just this once, not live by the motto which had become so ingrained in her life: Trust No One.

Deciding that we could use some new clothes, and having my credit card in hand, we went off to do some shopping. I first placed her hair up in a tight bun on the top of her head, then put my baseball cap on her and pulled it low, praying nobody would recognize her and think she was Gillian Anderson. I think I looked over my shoulder a million times in the two hours we were out and about. At one point, I made the comment to her that I hated skinny people (meaning people like her). She laughed aloud (I'd never heard that from her on TV) and tut-tutted me for feeling so down about my weight. Oh, I forgot to tell you—I weighed in at over 200 pounds at the time this all began in my reality.

So, satisfied with a few days' worth of new outfits, Scully and I happily headed back to our hotel. We'd been laughing and joking and carrying on like old friends. I was seeing a side to Dana Scully I'd never known existed. They'd never shown this side of her on the program. I loved it! I left to get pizza (Mulder's favorite, she reminded me!) and came back to find her writing furiously on the hotel stationary. "What'cha writin'?" I asked.

"Notes. Skinner's going to want a very detailed account of where the hell one of his agents disappeared to. I don't have Mulder's photographic memory, so I want to write everything down while it's still fresh in my mind. Do you think you could possibly write down things from your perspective? It will be a great help by the time we throw this thing together. When we return to my reality."

"I wish I knew of something we could do to perpetuate the return, Scully, I really do. Especially now—" I broke off abruptly. I could've sworn I heard movement outside our room door. Scully noticed and turned to look where my eyes focused. We listened intently.

Scully reacted immediately to the next sound we heard; it almost seemed as though her Sig appeared magically in her hand. I scrambled to corner Snoopy and throw her in the carrier, then stuffed all our new clothes into the two duffel bags we'd also purchased that day.

Several minutes passed, and we heard yet another noise, coming this time from outside the window opposite the door. We'd gotten a first-floor room, and it soon became clear that whoever it was out there was going to use that fact to their advantage.

Scully grabbed one duffel bag and slowly opened the door. She leapt into the hall, pointing her gun one way, then quickly the other. "It's clear," she whispered, and we fled out into the night, leaving my car behind, even as we heard the glass shattering behind us.

I was so out-of-shape, and combined with the duffel bag and the cat carrier, I quickly became winded. We couldn't tell if we'd been followed. Scully noticed a side street that looked fairly safe and made the turn as I lagged behind. 'This is it,' I thought. 'I won't be able to protect her. I won't be able to help her get back to Mulder. We're going to die.'

It was then that I heard them coming. There were two of them. I turned to look as I ran and stumbled in a pothole, sending me, the bag and the carrier crashing to the ground. Scully must've heard me fall, for she screamed, "Ray! RAY!", and I heard her running back to me.

"No! Go!" I yelled, even as the chasing footsteps drew nearer.

"I won't! Come on!" Scully grabbed my arm, and with surprising strength, helped me to my feet. She grabbed the other duffel bag from the pavement as I grabbed Snoopy, and she pulled me along behind her as we continued to run.

We turned down what looked to be a driveway, only to find ourselves in an alley surrounded by high concrete walls that not even the wiry Scully could scale. As we whipped around to go back the way we'd come, the thugs appeared in the entrance to the alley. They slowed to a walk and closed in on us as we backed up. Scully dropped the duffel bags to the ground, pointed her gun at them and hissed to me, "Get behind me!"

"You're nuts!" I exclaimed. "You're the one who must live! You must get back to him!"

Scully never took her eyes from the goons, who looked suspiciously similar to the man I'd shot at my motel. Clones? No time to think about that, though. Scully grabbed my arm and threw me behind her. "Stop right there! Federal agent!" she hollered, her gun steadily pointed at the two men.

They paid no heed and only laughed maniacally. I cringed. The same laugh as that bastard I'd killed. Or had I killed him? "Shoot them!" I said into Scully's ear.

But I knew she wouldn't, not unless either they fired first or they got close enough to warrant such action. Even in an alternate reality, Scully upheld not only the law, but her morality as well. I admired her even as I loathed her for not having my lack of conscience in times such as these. I would've shot them dead. However, everything happens for a reason, and there was a reason Scully shouldn't have shot them. It turns out, she's the one who got us back to her reality, with no help from me whatsoever.

I stubbornly refused to follow Scully's orders to stay behind her. I decided if she died, I didn't want to live either. What would be the point? I'd already be wanted for suspicion of Greg's, Trigger's and the goon's deaths, and I couldn't bear the thought of staying in my reality when I knew the other one existed—the one that contained Scully and Mulder. As if preordained somehow, the moment I stepped out from behind Scully's small frame, each of the men fired their weapons, as did Scully.

What happened next was the weirdest thing ever. It was like time had slowed. I could see the two bullets on their straight paths toward us. Mine was headed for my chest, Scully's was headed for her face. Her bullet made its way toward the thug on the left even as the second one stepped directly behind him. I heard Scully scream my name, and vaguely registered her trying to push into me to get us both out of the way, but for some reason, as we turned our backs to the bullets, we were propelled forward with such force that we were headed straight for the concrete wall, with no way to stop ourselves.

And then, like a repeat of my dream and Scully's recount of what happened to her, we were going through the wall. I felt a severe pain in my shoulder and remembered thinking I must have been hit by the bullet. I cried out, grasping the cat carrier handle tighter. I just hoped Snoopy would be okay. I tried to ascertain Scully's position, but could neither see nor hear her. It was very dark, then a flash of white light, and I saw a different wall coming towards me. Actually, I was being thrown at it. I couldn't think fast enough to wonder at the wall's presence, or what wall it was, I just felt myself slam headfirst into it, then a blessed darkness overtook me.

A week had passed, and Mulder had still been unable to locate his partner.

He remembered getting bashed in the head, then the next thing he knew, he was waking up in a local hospital. Without Scully there to figuratively tie him to the bed, his two-day stay had served to make him somewhat berserk. He and L.A. field office agents had turned most of the area upside-down after his release, but could find no trace of Scully. His heart broke. Why did these things keep happening to her? Duane Barry, Emily, Chaco Chicken cannibals, the Cancer, Antarctica. This was getting bloody ridiculous!

And now here he sat, utterly useless to his Scully. Skinner had finally resorted to ordering him to return to D.C. They both suspected the Consortium was once again behind this, even though the Cigarette Smoking Man had denied it and had even seemed surprised when Skinner had confronted him.

Mulder just couldn't figure it all out. The pieces of the puzzle refused to fall into place for him. He and Scully had traveled to L.A. to take on a case involving missing persons. The lack of evidence and witnesses had prompted Skinner to send them there to assist the L.A. field office. They'd followed directions given to them by the wife of one of the victims. The address was in the suburb of Glendale.

They'd been positioned to go in when a huge man dressed all in black had burst through the front door and clobbered him. He couldn't even remember if Scully had been injured. He reasoned the Consortium must have found out they were on the case and had sent the thug to remove them.

So why had they kidnapped Scully and not both of them? He prayed the answer didn't involve more alien experiments, though his brilliant mind kept telling him he knew better. They wanted Mulder out of their hair, and they knew exactly what his weakness was.

He shook his head. It just didn't seem right somehow. He should be out looking for her, not headed back to D.C. without her. Damn Skinner for making me come back, he thought. Scully'd decided to stick with him and the X-Files and what had it gotten her? Abducted. Again.

Sooner or later something has to give, he told himself. They can't keep doing this forever.

Or can they?

Another week passed. The L.A. office had phone Mulder daily, but had still not located Scully. Mulder was on his way back to his office after a very frustrating meeting with his boss. Not only had Skinner forced him off the case last week, but when Mulder had just now asked to return to California given the lack of the other agents' progress, Skinner had flatly refused. And made it quite clear that if Mulder did go on his own, he would be severely reprimanded. Some yadda-yadda bullshit about Mulder being too close to be objective. Hmph.

But why? Mulder kept asking himself. Could Skinner possibly know where the Consortium had taken Scully and why? If so, Mulder vowed then and there, he'd kill the sonofabitch with his bare hands, Assistant Director or no.

Mulder reached the bottom step and paused, wondering if he should just run back upstairs and confront the man. A shimmering of light down the hall and around the corner diverted his attention. He pulled his gun out by reflex and hurried to the junction. He peered around into the next hall, noting that his and Scully's old office was only a few feet away. The light ceased to glimmer and became steady, growing so bright that Mulder had to shield his eyes. He heard a loud CRACK! and then two distinct thuds as the light suddenly disappeared.

As the spots dancing in front of his eyes began to clear, he saw a most amazing sight: only a dozen or so feet away lay two women and a black cat carrier, the women crumpled onto the floor like rag dolls. He holstered his Glock and ran to their aid, first scooting the plaintively mewing cat out of the way. As he turned the first woman over, he didn't recognize her. She was thin and had long blonde hair. He felt a strange twang in his chest, but thought nothing of it. Then something caught his eye. Red. Red hair.

"Scully!" he cried, scrambling over the first body to his partner's side. "Scully! Can you hear me?"

Mulder gently rolled her onto her back. Both women were unconscious. He smoothed her hair back from her face, revealing a bloody nose and a few scrapes and bruises. He noticed both of them were covered with a thin sheen of sweat, as though they'd been running before they'd arrived.

Fox whipped out his cellphone and soon had emergency personnel on the way. "Hold on, Scully," he said as he grasped her limp hand. "They'll be here soon. Just hold on."

Having felt badly for the harshness he'd shown Mulder, Skinner made his way down the steps toward the agent's office. Or what was left of it. He pretty much knew that's where Mulder would've headed if despondent about his missing partner. Skinner heard a frantic Mulder's voice, then a beep signaling the end of a cellphone call. He loped the last few yards toward the office and stopped short at the sight of Mulder sitting on the floor between two inanimate women.

Mulder looked up at his boss, who seemed five times bigger to him from his current vantage point. "It's Scully, Sir. She's back," he said softly, gesturing to his right.

"Who's this?" Skinner asked as he knelt next to the other woman.

"I have no idea."

"What the hell happened?"

Mulder filled him in on what he'd witnessed. As he finished, the paramedics arrived, shooing the two men off to the side.

"I'm riding with Scully," Mulder announced as he and Skinner followed the stretchers out a few moments later.

"I'll ride with the other woman. We don't yet know if she's friend or foe."

Mulder shot his boss a look, thinking that statement applied to him more than Scully's companion. But his concern for his partner drew his attention away from Skinner.

Fox held Scully's hand all the way to the hospital.

Skinner sat off to the side in the second ambulance. He could only stare in wonder at the woman who lay before him. What the hell was going on and who the hell was this? Where had she and Agent Scully come from? His thoughts were interrupted as she began mumbling. One of her hands reached out in his general direction as the medics worked on her shoulder gunshot wound. Not knowing what else to do, Skinner scooted forward and grasped the cold, trembling hand in his.

"Sc...Scully...no...shot...Snoopy...help us..." the woman moaned.

"Shh. You'll be fine." Walter found himself soothing her as the muffled sounds of the ambulance's sirens wailed around him. "You're safe now."

At his touch and the sound of his voice, the woman's face relaxed, her mumbling ceased, and her pulse steadied.

"Thank God you're here," one of the EMT's said to Skinner. "Is she your wife?"

"No. I don't even know her."

"That's odd."

"Why?" Skinner queried, perplexed.

"Because the only time I've ever seen a patient calm down like that is when the person they love more than anything in the whole world is with them."

Scully awoke to find Mulder sitting in a chair next to her bed. Her hospital bed. Ugh, what the hell had happened to her this time? Then it all came flooding back and she cried out in realization. She was back!

"Mulder!"

His head whipped around, his eyes wide at her exclamation. "Scully!"

"I'm back!" she was all smiles.

"Yes, you are. How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, actually. What hospital is this?"

"Same D.C. hospital you've been frequenting for years."

"Oh, you're one to talk, Mr. This-Is-My-Second-Home," she bantered. He had no idea how wonderful it felt for her to be joking with him.

For his part, Fox was a bit surprised by her sense of humor. "What happened, Scully?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to rest a little more and try to sort it all out in my mind. And I'd like AD Skinner to be here as well so I don't have to explain it twice."

Dana scrunched her face in thought for a moment, then sat straight up in bed. "God! Holly! Where's Holly?"

Fox pointed across Dana's body to the next bed. "Is that Holly?"

She turned to look and sighed in relief. "Yes. How is she?"

"She's in a coma right now, but they can't figure out why. What's her full name and where's she from? The doctors haven't been able to identify her."

"Her name is Holly Ray. Where she's from is a bit complicated. She looks different. She looks...thinner than before. Mulder, was there a cat where you found us?"

"Yes. When you two were admitted yesterday, I sent Skinner back to fetch it. He was none too thrilled, but he took it to his apartment to keep an eye on it until we figured out who it belongs to."

"Her name is Snoopy and she's Holly's baby. Please tell Skinner to take good care of her."

"I will."

"Mulder, where did you find us?"

Mulder explained what he'd seen and where he'd found them, as well as Skinner's subsequent appearance. Then he said, "Why don't you rest? I'll be here when you wake up."

"I know you will. You have no idea how good it is to be back in my own reality, Mulder. How good it is to...see you."

Mulder was intrigued by Scully's offhanded comment about 'her own reality,' but he knew she needed her rest, so didn't push the subject. "It's good to see you, too. You had me worried. Again." He smiled.

"I'm okay. I'm going to sleep now. Make sure you get some rest yourself, partner."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Scully smacked him lightly on the arm as she smiled and closed her eyes. Yes, it was definitely good to be back.

I awoke very groggy. When I tried to open my eyes, I found the brightness which lay beyond way too confrontational for the way I felt, and squeezed them shut again. As my mind slowly began to work, I could hear beeps of many different types. I became aware that my head was killing me and tried to groan, but only a funny sound emerged from my throat, gurgling a little. Then I realized that my right shoulder was also screaming in pain and I tried to groan again, with the same results as before.

I then heard an unfamiliar voice. "Miss? Miss, can you hear me?"

I tried to open my eyes, but only succeeded in squinting terribly, as the brightness which surrounded me took its toll on their weakened state. "Who....where...?" I whispered.

"She's coming around," I heard the voice say. It was a woman. "You'll be fine. You're in a hospital. Are you in pain?"

"Yes," I croaked, slowly willing my eyelids open. It took a moment for my sight to adjust, but she came into view. A nurse.

"I'll take care of that," she said to me, smiling. Then she was gone.

In her place there now stood a very large man, and I tried to scoot away from him, thinking him to be one of the goons. He laid one hand on each of my shoulders, gently but firmly holding me down on the bed. "No!" I cried. "No! Scully!" My voice had obviously found itself.

"It's all right," the man said soothingly. "You're safe here."

I looked his way and tried to bring his face into focus. But I knew that voice. I knew it as sure as I knew my own name. "Skinner?" I asked.

He came back to an upright position, clearly surprised at my correct identification. "How do you know my name?"

"Long story. Scully, where's Scully? Did they get her?" My mind raced even as I felt it slow down. I then noticed the nurse putting something into the IV bag which hung above me. Must have been morphine. I was suddenly feeling very good.

"Agent Scully is safe. She is here with you, in the next bed."

"Mulder. Does Mulder know?"

"Agent Mulder is the one who found you. He is here as well." Skinner looked even more surprised at my mention of Fox. "For now you must rest. We will talk later."

I laid my hand on his arm. "Is this real?" I asked, obviously perplexing him. "You're really Skinner, right? Am I in D.C.?"

"Correct on both counts," he said brusquely before leaving my side. I'd sure enough spooked him.

Then I felt myself relax as the morphine took over my system. I know now that I slipped in and out of consciousness for the next four days, having already been out cold for three days prior. Each time I came to, I recall seeing a man near me, but I couldn't focus well enough to make out a face, and could barely speak. His tones were familiar and soothing, but I couldn't recognize the voice in my sad state. I only know I was grateful for him being there each time I awoke.

So the four days went by, me drifting in and out, until finally one day, well actually it was nighttime, I awoke with perfect clarity, feeling much better than I had before. As I opened my eyes, I found myself feeling disappointed that the man I'd come to depend on wasn't at my side. I heard hushed voices and turned my head to look in their direction. I gasped, for there, laying in the bed next to me was Scully, and standing above her was none other than Fox Mulder! My gasp startled them, and they both whipped their heads around to look at me.

"Ray!" Scully cried out in delight as she made her way to me.

Tears of joy flowed down my face as she came to me and grasped my hand in both of hers. "Scully! Oh, God, you're alive, you're alive! Oh, thank God!" I cried happily.

"Ray, I'm so glad you're awake!" she, too was crying as she leaned over to hug me. I returned the gesture and we hugged and cried for a moment until I heard a throat clearing itself nearby.

Scully stood, but never let go of my hand. "Mulder, this is Holly Ray. Ray, this is Fox Mulder!" she introduced us.

"No way," I breathed. I knew it was him, but was incredulous that he was actually there, standing next to me. Scully released my hand to him, which he took and squeezed.

"Very pleased to meet you," he said, smiling. Smiling. Fox Mulder was smiling at me. Jesus, that's something I rarely saw him do on TV all those years I watched. It was a beautiful smile, one that I would soon find I could never get enough of.

"You have no idea," I whispered, in awe of him. This was really Spooky Mulder, the head of the X-Files, the be-all, end-all and see-all to everything weird on Planet Earth.

He chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

"Other than the fact that you damn well better have the plates to that Mack truck in your photographic memory, I'm just fine."

He laughed. A genuine laugh that was as beautiful as it was strange. "Scully, you didn't tell me she shared my quirky sense of humor!"

"Guess I forgot that part!" she, too, was laughing.

"Have you told him what happened?" I asked, growing serious against my will.

She nodded gravely. "I have. Everything I could remember. I briefed both Mulder and AD Skinner two days ago."

"Two days? Why are you still here, then? Are you injured badly?" I was hit with a wave of panic.

"No, I'm fine."

"Famous last words," I muttered, much to Fox's delight.

Scully pursed her lips. "Don't you two dare go ganging up on me!" she said, but it didn't come out as harsh words, causing Mulder and I to laugh.

"You must've really gotten to her, Mrs. Ray," Mulder said. "She was discharged three days ago, but refuses to leave until you do."

"Please, call me Ray. Is this true, Agent Scully?" I asked mockingly.

She raised her eyebrow and I fell into a fit of giggles again. Mulder couldn't help but follow me, and he said, "This is gonna be fun, Scully!"

Poor Scully could only frown in consternation at our antics. "Great," she said, trying rather unsuccessfully not to smile. "Now I've got two overgrown children to take care of. Ugh!"

I was tired, both from my injuries and from the laughter, and Scully, bless her heart, could tell. She pulled Mulder away from me, shooing him out of the room, then came back to my side, taking my hand once more. "I'm so glad you're going to be all right," she said. "You had me worried for a while."

"Where's Snoopy?"

"AD Skinner's taking care of her."

"What? You're kidding!"

"No, I'm serious. Mulder had him take her home until they could figure out who she belonged to. I told him she was yours, and offered to take her into my place, but Skinner refused. He actually insisted that he continue caring for her until you were released!"

"What a trip. By the way, what's wrong with me?"

"You have a fairly severe concussion, a contusion on your forehead, and you were shot in your right shoulder."

"Any permanent damage?"

"No. You'll heal in time. And that contusion shouldn't leave a scar. If it does, it'll be very light. You'll have to wear a sling for a while to let that shoulder heal, and a neck brace like you're wearing now will become a permanent member of your wardrobe for about a month."

"Well, I guess I'm too stubborn to die, huh?"

"Or too lucky."

"What happened to you?"

"The bullet one of our attackers fired grazed my right arm. It only took a bit of tissue. And I got a very mild concussion. You hit the wall a hell of a lot harder than I did."

I thought a moment as the memories of our snap into this reality came back to me. "Wall. What exactly happened?"

Scully sighed. "Apparently the same thing that happened to me when I entered your reality. We were both shot, we went through the concrete wall in the alley, and we ended up in this reality."

"But you didn't get shot last time. Not really."

"That is a point I question myself. We also didn't end up in the Glendale, California of this reality."

"Then where?"

"We slammed into the wall in the hallway right outside the X-Files office."

"In the basement of the Hoover Building in D.C.?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in disbelief.

She nodded. "Yes."

I suddenly remembered something from before. "Skinner was here."

"Yes. He was here when you awoke for the first time, I was told. And he's been at your side nearly every day since I woke up."

Not even thinking about that statement, I said, "He told me Mulder found us. What was Mulder doing in D.C. when he was just in Glendale with you?"

"I had been gone for a long time."

"What? How long?"

She sighed again. "Two weeks."

"WHAT!?!?!" I couldn't believe it. It had only been two days in my reality. That was two weeks here? Then it made sense. The TV show was on once a week in my reality. Scully had been in my reality for two days. That would translate into two shows, which was two weeks. I explained as much to her, and she, too, understood.

"You need to get some rest now, Ray," Scully said, returning to her bed.

I lay there thinking of many things, but one question nagged at me, and I felt I had to know the answer. After all, here I lay in a hospital with Scully by my side. What better time to ask than right now? I swallowed my hesitancy and said, "Hey, Scully?"

"Yeah?"

I was thankful for the complete darkness of the room. It gave me some cover. "Can I ask you a sort of....personal question?"

There was a moment of silence. I feared I had overstepped my bounds and wished I'd kept my mouth shut.

Finally she asked, "Are you going to ask about Mulder?"

"How'd ya guess?" I marveled at this woman's depth of perception.

"Since you know about all of our cases, and from what I could gather was the subject of the X-Files movie in your reality, I suspected you would be curious, especially given the extent of your involvement, in your own way, with our lives through television and the movie. I assumed the questions would be forthcoming, since you didn't ask me while we were, uh, hanging out together yesterday. And I use the word 'yesterday' quite liberally."

I laughed at her humor and heard her chuckle. "Right as always, Doc!" Hmm. Doc. I liked that. Maybe I'd start using it on her to see if she approved. Scully, after all, was Mulder's name for her, and I felt somewhat intrusive using it. And I felt too embarrassed to call her Dana. That was just so...personal.

"I assume your question stems from certain moments Mulder and I have shared."

"Yes. More precisely the moment in Mulder's apartment building just prior to the bee stinging you," I ventured, still afraid she might at some point withdraw from me.

I was pleasantly surprised when she began speaking. "Mulder's and my relationship is a complicated entity in and of itself. There is no one word or phrase which accurately describes it. Believe me, I have spent countless hours over the past six years contemplating each and every facet, yet I am still no closer to categorizing the myriad of emotions I feel."

Doc paused for about a minute, seemingly collecting her thoughts before continuing. "I'm sure you're aware of these complexities, Ray. You seem astutely aware of the situation. Was there a specific item you needed clarified?"

She was stalling. She knew I wanted to know about the almost-kiss from the movie, I'd told her so. "Have the two of you at least talked about what almost happened?" I fully expected her to sidestep me on that one, but she came through for me once again.

"No. We haven't. So much has happened since our return from Antarctica. I don't believe either of us is prepared to explore what almost happened. There is so much at stake now. It simply wouldn't be appropriate. Not only would they, in all likelihood, close down the X-Files yet again, but the demands of a more intimate relationship would further complicate an already tenuous situation, both personally and professionally. And they'd just use it against us."

"Forgive me for perhaps stating the obvious," I interjected, "but I believe they've already tried that tactic."

"To which situation do you refer?"

"Why do you think you ended up in the alien craft in Antarctica?" I paused to let her think about that.

"They took me to stop Mulder."

"Why did they decide to use you, Doc?" I was acting like a shrink, but I felt the need to hear her admit it. "Why you and not, say, Mulder's mom? Or Skinner? Or why not Samantha, for that matter? They could just as easily have used any one of them. Why did the Consortium choose you?"

I heard a rustling noise, then saw her shadowy figure coming towards me. She sat on the edge of my bed, straining to see my face in the dark. "Ray, why don't you tell me what you're getting at?"

"Doc, I saw not only what you and Mulder and Skinner experienced, but what the bad guys did too. They were all in a room in London: Strughold, Well-Manicured Man, Cigarette Smoking Man. The whole damn Syndicate was there."

I could see I had her rapt attention, so I continued with more confidence. "They discussed how dangerous Mulder was becoming. How close he was getting to the Truth and therefore to them. They were playing back a surveillance tape from the morgue where that fireman's body was. You and Mulder were on the tape. They felt the best way to get rid of Mulder's prying eyes was, and I quote, to "take away that with which he can't live without." They paused the tape, showing the two of you together."

Even in the inky black which surrounded us, I could see the effect my revelation had upon her. I awaited her reaction.

"I understand your point now. Any intimacy between us couldn't be more of a catalyst for trouble than our current relationship."

"That's right." I nodded. "They already know how important you are to him. They don't concern themselves with mundane emotion in everyday life, but they'll use it against someone for their own sick purposes. They used Mulder's love for you to try and stop him. In fact, they've done so several times. If not for Well-Manicured Man's sudden change of heart this last time, you'd be dead, and it is my sincere belief that your partner's fate would have rested along the same lines. If not by someone else's hand, then by his own."

"What? Mulder would never kill himself!" Scully almost hissed the words.

"He wanted to once when you were abducted. Think about it, Doc, really think. The X-Files were closed. No hope of finding Samantha. The whole world working against him. No one to trust. You had disappeared. Gone. The one person he knows he can trust implicitly, missing and presumably dead. Explain to me how he could have survived that. Why he would have wanted to. If anything, their knowledge of his love for you as well as their most recent botched attempt at using you to silence him has opened the door for you to explore the more intimate planes of your relationship. If they want to get to either one of you, they already know what your greatest weakness is. Taking the next step won't make any difference to them even if they do find out."

"You use the word 'love' quite liberally."

"I use it correctly, Doc."

"I like how you call me Doc. It's funny." she smiled briefly, then turned serious again. "Given that your hypothesis concerning the Consortium is true, it just doesn't seem right to further cloud our partnership with something we can't control."

"Listen, I have no business nosing into your personal life, nor in Mulder's. I just know a teensy bit more than you do about some things, and wanted you to know them as well."

"Psht. You're nothing but a busybody," Scully laughed. "But really, Ray, I don't mind a little poking and prodding. It...feels really good to be able to talk to someone about this. It's something I've never been able to talk about, even with my mom."

"I know. I'll always be here for you, I promise. Use me as a sounding board anytime."

"Thank you." Scully squeezed my hand as she rose and went back to her bed. "Maybe while I've got a couple more days of downtime, Mulder and I will have that talk."

"Cool."

"Oh, and by the way, you're coming home with me tomorrow morning. Snoopy can come too if we can pry her out of Skinner's hands."

"What?!?" This was just too good to be true. Home with Dana Scully?!?

"Well, you don't know anyone here, so where else would you go? Besides, I'd like to keep an eye on you for medical reasons."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever," I answered, straining to keep my laughter quiet.

"You're so impertinent!" she retorted, but I could hear her smile. "Good night, Ray."

"'Night, Doc." I happily shifted around until I was comfortable, falling asleep almost immediately.

And I dreamed. I remember it most vividly as I sit here in the quiet, beautiful sanctuary of Dana Scully's living room. Iitiayli came to me again. I did no speaking, only listening. As before, I could not see him, but in my mind I pictured him very clearly.

"You have now entered the realm of the Truthseekers. You have found safety from those in your existence who would harm you. You face a new place, and must embrace this second chance with open arms. You will help the Truthseekers. Where before stood two alone, you now complete the trinity, and I shall help you. Your new life will not be easy, but you have the opportunity to fulfill a greater destiny and unite your planet against an evil more powerful than ever witnessed by the human race. I grant you three abilities to aid the quest of the Truthseekers: you will come to discover them as your life progresses. They are my gifts. I shall leave you for a time, but you will meet me again. Until then, go in peace. Help them. Love them. Be true to them and to yourself. You, the Truthseekers, are the hope of my people. Let the new journey begin."

I awoke to see three faces around me. There's Doc, looking all worried; there's Mulder, looking....excited?; and there's Skinner, looking stony. "What?" I ask.

"You okay?" Mulder.

"Yes," I answer slowly. I then turn to look at Doc. She's frowning. "He came to me," I said.

"Who did?" she asks.

"Iitiayli. He spoke to me."

"I think we heard it," Mulder again, looking for all the world like a kid in a candy store.

I blinked. "You did?"

Scully checked my pulse. "You were talking. Something about Truthseekers."

Mulder stood up straight and recited, "You have now entered the realm of the Truthseekers. You have found safety from those in your existence who would harm you."

I gasped. "You heard it all."

"That was the beginning?"

"Yes, Mulder. Up to 'Let the new journey begin.'" I looked up at Skinner. "What are you glaring at?" I demanded testily. His stern visage pissed me off. No one needs to be that Vulcan.

His eyes flashed briefly before he answered in his tell-nothing voice. "Because you know everything there is to know about my agents and the X-Files, as well as some information regarding our enemies, I must request that you allow yourself to be placed under my protection. Or, more appropriately, under Agent Scully's protection."

"Not a problem. I understand completely. I'd love to." I beamed up at him.

He gave a slight nod of his head and turned to leave. I couldn't resist. "But only on one condition, Mr. Skinner."

Fox and Dana's eyes went wide as they looked alternately at me and their AD. He glowered. I smiled. "What condition would that be?" he practically spit the words out of his mouth.

"That you agree to visit me once a week, Sir." It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Fox and Dana turned their faces away from him, obviously fighting laughter as much as I.

He surprised us all when he said, "Consider it done."

"Oh, and I'd like my cat back." The laughter was bubbling up in me, and I tried desperately to hold it down.

He just glared at me, then turned around and left, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

All three of us burst out laughing uncontrollably. Fox kept saying, "I don't believe it. I just don't believe it." in between guffaws.

I suddenly realized something and gave it voice. "Hey Doc, my shoulder—it doesn't hurt anymore."

Scully began to remove my bandages with one hand as she wiped the laughter tears from her cheeks with the other. She gasped.

"What?" Fox and I both jumped.

"Your bullet wound—it's—God, it's gone!" she said, staring at my smooth, bare right shoulder in disbelief. She ran her cool fingertips over where the hole had been only yesterday as I tried to get a look. Fox's mouth was an almost perfect 'O' as he stared.

"How does your neck feel?" Scully asked, removing the neck brace and pressing down on the skin underneath.

I twisted and turned my head, rolling it around and sideways. It cracked a couple of times from stiffness, but it felt fine. "It doesn't hurt at all anymore. I could hardly move my head last night!"

"I know," she said. "I don't get it."

Finally Mulder spoke, getting up to pace my room slowly. "Could this be one of the gifts Iitiayli spoke of?"

Dana and I looked at him, then at each other. "My body's ability to heal itself?"

"There's no other explanation. Is there, Scully?"

She shook her head slowly. "Ray, there's something else. Your—your body. It's...thin."

I sat up in bed and pulled the covers off myself to look at my body. Sure enough, it was perfect. Barely an ounce of fat anywhere, curvy in all the right places. "I guess this is the second gift. Wow. I look...beautiful."

"Well, since you're all fine and dandy now, perhaps we'd better get you settled into my place," Scully finally said.

And I felt truly wonderful. So my two new friends took me to Scully's where she showed me around and the three of us discussed the oddity of my disappearing injuries. Skinner had obviously brought Snoopy by, for she leapt into my arms as soon as we stepped through the door. I was happy to see she was unharmed. Then Dana shooed Mulder away so she and I could do some clothes shopping. I now had absolutely no clothing to fit my new size, so we spent about four hours at the mall having a marvelous time. I was so ecstatic at how everything looked on me, and Dana even bought a few things. When I asked who was paying for my new wardrobe, she smiled and said that Skinner had told her he would personally authorize any expenditures made on my behalf. I couldn't believe it. Neither could she. We laughed about it and wondered how I had gotten under the AD's skin so quickly. The Doc thought maybe I just disconcerted him due to my knowledge. I agreed.

So, now here I sit in Doc's overstuffed chair, writing down everything I can remember, which is actually everything. Ever since Iitiayli's first appearance to me back in my reality, my memory has become almost photographic. Watch out, Mulder, here I come!

The Fox and Doc are at the Bureau right now setting up their new office. Bless his heart, AD Skinner had the entire burnt remains of their old office completely cleaned out. The room had been painted, carpet had been laid, and Dana told me their office door is quite a sight to behold. Gold-plated nameplates are mounted upon its face, declaring:

X-FILES DIVISION
FOX MULDER
DR. DANA SCULLY

She was ecstatic when she called this morning to tell me about it. We have become very good friends. She acts so happy around me, like a normal person instead of the character I knew in my reality. However, she and the Fox are still troubled by much, and I only pray I can continue to be near them and help them as much as possible. I seem to be making her more comfortable with talking about her feelings. With each passing moment, she opens up to me more and more. I feel so very privileged every time she lets me see one more small piece of her. Now if I could just get her partner coaxed into talking, I would really be happy. Lord knows what that one's hiding.

Ray stood and stretched, smiling. Walter Skinner was coming for his first promised visit at 5:30 this evening, and she looked forward to it. She'd always loved a challenge, and she'd bet money he was going to be a tough nut to crack. She wondered who'd end up being more difficult: Mulder or Skinner. Probably Skinner. The Fox already trusted her quite a bit, due mostly to Scully's relationship with her, but also for her strange connection to the one from the alien race. He sensed her honesty, and was also filled with a feeling of familiarity whenever he was around her. At least, that's what the Doc had told her.

After showering, Ray spent the next hour trying to decide what to wear. The phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi, Ray, it's me." Scully. "Um, Skinner wants to know" she stifled a giggle, "what to wear tonight."

Ray laughed. "If I said nothing, I don't think he'd show up, do you?"

"No, I doubt it." Dana laughed as well.

"Jeans is fine. We're casual."

"Okay. I'll tell him. He's a bit flustered. He's acting like he's going on a date!"

Ray laughed again as Dana said, "I want to hear every detail. I have never seen my boss outside his professionalism, and I want to know!"

"I'll give you the PG version."

Scully lost it again and they said their good-byes. It seemed whenever they spoke, they ended up in stitches. Ray just hoped it felt half as good to Doc as it did to her. She finally put on a pair of black jeans and a green button-down long-sleeved shirt, with brown deck shoes. She combed out her blonde hair, deciding to leave it long and flowing instead of fussing with it. She wore almost no makeup, and was now ready to begin the task of cooking.

Donning one of Scully's aprons, she started cutting up the vegetables and beef for homemade stir fry. Fox and Dana knew Skinner liked Chinese food, so she was even attempting her hand at Egg Drop Soup and Egg Rolls, all homemade.

Promptly at 5:30pm, there was a knock at Dana Scully's door. Ray looked through the peephole and was greeted by AD Skinner's humorless countenance. She sighed. This was either going to be a lot of fun or a very long night.

She opened the door and smiled broadly at him. "Welcome, Mr. Skinner. I see you are a man of your word." She gestured for him to enter.

"I am," he replied, standing stiffly in the center of the living room. Then his attention was drawn to the kitchen. "Do I smell Chinese food?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir. Homemade."

"They ratted me out."

Ray nodded vigorously. "Yes, but only because of my superior interrogation techniques. Why don't you make yourself comfortable? Drink?"

"Vodka martini?"

"Man after my own heart." she smiled and went to the kitchen. To her relief, Skinner finally seated himself on the couch.

"Will Agents Mulder and Scully be joining us?"

"I don't believe so. They want to finish setting up their office and then work on the report about my reality."

"I see."

She walked back into the living room, handed him his martini, and sank into the overstuffed chair. After taking a sip of her own drink she said, "So, how was your day?" She could tell he was uncomfortable. He grimaced and she said, "Not Cancer Man again?"

He was surprised by her accuracy, and only nodded.

"What did he want this time?"

"You know I can't discuss that."

"Okay, so I'll guess. He's demanding once again to know why the X-Files have been reopened and wants to force you to close them down again."

His startled look confirmed her supposition. "How did you know?"

"I know Cancer Man," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

He nodded thoughtfully. Trying to change the subject, he asked about life back in her reality. She told him a little about it, piquing his interest enough that he followed her back into the kitchen as she finished preparing dinner.

They continued the small talk, mostly about her, as they ate. He helped with the dishes. Noticing the absence of a ring on his left hand, Ray asked, "You aren't married?"

"Divorced."

"Oh. I could tell you've been a husband in the past the way you pitch in with the dishes."

"You didn't know I was divorced?"

"No. The show was mostly about the cases, not the personal lives of the main characters. I therefore know very little about Assistant Director Walter Sergei Skinner the man."

They finished with the dishes as he asked, "What do you want to know?"

"What do you do to unwind?"

"Grab a martini and watch a movie."

She made them two more drinks and went to find a movie, settling for Gattaca starring Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman. Seating themselves as before, Ray started the movie.

"What's this, Mrs. Ray?"

"Please, just call me Ray."

"I don't like that. It makes me feel like I'm sitting here watching a movie with another man."

She laughed out loud and his face actually contorted into a small smile. One tiny victory. "Okay, I guess you can call me Holly, Mr. Skinner."

He held up a hand. "If I call you Holly, you must call me Walter."

"Okay, Walter." His named tripped lightly from her lips, and he felt his defenses dropping.

They watched the movie. Or rather, Walter watched it while Holly watched him. She did at one point turn her attention back to the movie, but when she looked back at him, he was looking right at her. They both blushed and looked away.

"I'm glad you're feeling well," was all he could manage.

"I'm having trouble seeing the television. Might I join you on the couch?" she asked nonchalantly.

He only nodded, and she came to sit next to him on his right, folding her legs neatly beneath her. "So, much is troubling you," she said, drawing his eyes to hers once more. "I know the fine line you walk for Mulder and Scully, Walter. I know of the hell you live every day. I commend you for your sacrifice."

She understood. He couldn't believe it. He was still wary, though. "I do what I must."

She nodded solemnly. "Do you have anyone to talk to?"

Her voice was an open, honest and friendly invitation. Aw, hell, what more did he have to lose? "No."

"You do now. You can rest assured that despite my friendship with your agents, nothing you tell me leaves my mouth."

He nodded. Before he could speak, however, a noise was heard outside the front door. They both turned to look.

Before either could react, the door was kicked open. A man dressed all in black was there. "Hello, Agent—" he stopped abruptly, seemingly surprised to see them. "Shit!" the man cursed. Walter had just enough time to lean backwards over Holly as the man fired his gun. She screamed as his body went limp on top of her, his blood spilling everywhere.

Holly scrambled out from under him, noticing only peripherally that the assailant was now gone. She stretched him out flat on the couch. The bullet had entered his chest. Suddenly she knew what to do. She ripped open his casual button-down shirt, paying no heed to the blood now soaking her clothes and hands. She pressed those hands down on the wound, and Walter's eyes fluttered open.

"Holly?" She could barely hear him.

"Walter, you'll be okay. Shhh." she cooed, fighting back tears.

At the point where her hands met his body, a tingling warmth began to spread over them, along with a visible glow of white light.

Just then, Fox and Dana, who had heard the gunshot from outside, burst into the room, only to stop dead in their tracks at the scene before them.

Holly and Walter were bathed in a soft white light. Their eyes were locked. "Walter, do you trust me?" she whispered.

"Implicitly," he ground out through clenched teeth. So much pain.

"Then feel my hands. Concentrate on them. Think of nothing but how they feel."

He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Warm," he croaked. "Soft. T-tingling."

"Yes," she soothed. "Believe in me, Walter."

"I—I...be-lieve," he stammered.

Scully began to move towards them, but Mulder's hand on her arm held her back. "No, Scully. She's helping him. Don't interrupt."

Dana looked sidelong at him, but felt he was right. They stood watching helplessly as the glow surrounding Holly and Skinner brightened. It became so bright they had to shield their eyes, then there was a loud CRACK! before darkness finally settled in on them. They heard a thud. Walter was struggling to sit up as Holly lay in a heap on the other side of the room.

Mulder helped Skinner while Scully ran to Ray's side. "She's out cold. Mulder, take her to my bed."

"Yes, ma'am!" he mock-saluted.

While he did that, Scully checked their boss for injuries, but found none. Plenty of blood, but no bullet hole. "Sir," Scully began as Skinner tried to close his shirt around his bared chest, "what happened?"

Skinner shook his head, as if trying to remove cobwebs. "Damndest thing I ever saw, Agent Scully. She saved my life. Don't ever ask me to explain it. I had a bullet hole right here." He paused and laid a hand directly over his heart. "A big one. Look at all this blood!"

Mulder came back into the room as Skinner continued. "I saw my life, such as it is, flash before my eyes, and I could feel myself leaving." Off Scully's questioning glance, "Dying. But I felt her hands over the wound. I—I can't put it into words. She was suddenly there, everywhere, all around me, inside of me. She asked me if I trusted her. And I did. Implicitly. I mean, I do. And she told me to concentrate on her hands. They felt....I'm sorry, I can't possibly describe it so that you'd understand. Damn."

Scully placed a comforting hand on his arm. She and Mulder exchanged looks. Neither had ever seen their boss so out of it. As if the fog suddenly lifted from his mind, he stood up straight and asked, "Where is she? Where's Holly?" There was only the faintest hint of panic in his voice, but to Mulder and Scully it spoke volumes. Leave it to Ray to break through Skinner's triple-reinforced concrete and brick wall in one night.

Mulder pointed towards Scully's room and backed out of the way as Skinner very nearly ran him over to get in there. The partners exchanged amazed glances, complete with raised eyebrows.

Skinner found Holly laying comfortably on the bed. "Is she sleeping?" he asked his agents as they walked in.

"She's unconscious, Sir. During whatever it was she was doing to you, she was thrown across the room."

"Is she injured?"

"I don't believe so. Sir, what exactly happened? Who shot you?"

The unsteady voice from the bed surprised them. "It was Krycek."

"What?!?" Mulder blazed. "Again?!?!"

"Sir?" Scully questioned.

"I didn't see who it was. Holly, are you certain?"

"Yes. He came here to kill Doc."

"How do you know?" Scully asked.

"Because when he kicked in the door he said, "Hello, Agent—" then broke off when he realized you weren't here. I'd say he panicked and shot Walter out of fear before he fled. When did you two get here?"

"While you were doing...whatever....to AD Skinner," Scully replied. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, just exhausted. That really took a lot out of me. Walter," she placed her hand on his arm, "are you okay now?"

"Yes," he replied, placing his hand over hers. "How can I ever thank you? What did you do? How..?"

"I don't really know. At first I was just going to apply pressure to the gunshot wound, but as soon as I touched you, I could feel it."

"Feel what?" from Mulder.

"It was weird. I just...knew I could heal him. But he had to trust me. I had to make sure he trusted me and get him to concentrate on my hands. I knew I had to stare into his eyes and, well, just will him to be whole again. I felt intense cold, followed by intense heat. Then I heard a loud cracking sound and felt myself being thrown away."

They all stood silently contemplating her words. She sat up in bed. "I think this is the third of the gifts from Iitiayli."

"That you can heal others as well as yourself?" Mulder asked.

Holly nodded. "Yes, but only if they trust me. I don't understand any of it, I just know."

Skinner turned to storm out of the room, ranting, "I'm going to kill that sonofabitch Krycek if it's the last thing I do!"

"Walter, no!" Holly pleaded, jumping out of bed and running to him. "Please, stay here! It's too dangerous!"

"He tried to kill one of my agents! Again! If you hadn't healed me, this time I would be dead! This has to end! NOW!"

"You're right, Walter. But we have to think this out. Please, just come and sit. Please," she begged.

He caved in and followed her to the bed. They sat side-by-side. Holly motioned for the others to seat themselves on the bed as well, which they did.

"What are you thinking, Ray?" Mulder asked.

She took a deep breath and began to speak, alternately looking at each of the three FBI employees before her. "Okay. Now hear me out on this. The X-Files Division was reopened, and you guys are knocking on the door of the Truth. They wanted Doc dead, so they tried a Krycek hit again. And again he failed. He was forgiven once, but I'm sure he knows they'll hang him for missing a second time. It's a safe bet that he recognized Walter, and shot him out of fear that he'd tell Cancer Man. Now Krycek thinks you're dead. But he's terrified. He knows he'll be offed for killing the Assistant Director of the FBI, so he does the only thing he can do: he hides. Chances are he's more afraid of them than of you guys. He's probably going to be scared enough to do almost anything to keep himself alive. Doc, the fact that they tried to kill you again in the same way as before indicates their desperation."

"So you think if we can find Krycek first he'll make a deal?" Mulder asked.

"Yes, I do. He figures you're 99% less likely to shoot him on sight than his employer. He'll deal just to stay alive. And with him, you'll have more than enough to haul each and every member of the Consortium off in chains."

They all chewed this over, then Holly spoke again. "Both Krycek and the Consortium need to believe you're really dead, Walter. Without your strings at the Bureau, Cancer Man will no longer have the scoop on the X-Files."

Skinner bowed his head, suddenly ashamed of the role he'd been playing in this game.

"Walter, it's okay. We don't blame you. Do we guys?"

"Just how deep are you in this, Sir?" Scully asked quietly.

"Too deep, Agent Scully," he muttered. "I've never gone along with anything he's done to try and hurt you, and more than once I've bartered for your lives. But the more I barter, the deeper I sink."

Scully nodded as she and Mulder exchanged looks. "We don't blame you, Sir. If not for you, Agent Mulder and I would probably have been dead a thousand times over by now."

Skinner's face showed his relief and thanks.

"I agree with Ray," Mulder spoke up. "I think the two of you need to stay dead for a while. Krycek thinks you're dead, Sir. He doesn't know Ray, but if he thinks she's dead, too, he'll know there were no witnesses. He won't be expecting anyone but Cancer Man to come after him, which we can use to our advantage."

They all nodded in agreement. "Anyone know of somewhere we can hold up where not even the Consortium can find us?" Holly asked.

After a moment of silence, Walter said, "Yes, I do."

"Okay, Walter, write down the address and seal it in an envelope."

After a few moments, Skinner came back with said envelope. "Okay, give it to Mulder. Now Mulder, take it to The Lone Gunmen."

"Why them?"

"We can't risk either of you knowing where we are."

"Right," Scully agreed. "Plausible denial."

"Yes. Get the guys to rig up a way to bounce e-mail around so they can keep us abreast of your situation and we can inform them of ours. Plan our funerals, go to them, cry a little, put Obits in the local papers. Everyone, even Walter's ex-wife, needs to believe he's dead. Walter, can the DAD be trusted? He'll be the one to replace you, right?"

"He can, I think, but he doesn't know anything about the Syndicate."

"Good. Now, Cancer Man won't try anything on you two for a while after Walter's murder hits the papers, especially without him there as AD. Be sure the articles state the government has no leads on this case. Cancer Man will feel safe for the time being and concentrate on eliminating Krycek. Mulder, do you still have my cat carrier?"

"No, it's here in my closet," Scully interjected.

"There are two books in the bottom of it, under the blanket. I need them please."

Scully went off to find the carrier. She came back with the books, looking at them incredulously.

"You must keep these hidden at all costs," Holly warned them. "One's a compendium of your X-Files, and one's on the movie." She took the larger one and flipped to a page near the end, then handed it to Walter. "You see that? That's where they've set up shop again, like in Texas. It's Foum Tataouine, Tunisia. You need to get helicopters and planes out there with big-ass bombs and rip the place apart. Gas the damn bees. Without them, the research and the corn, they'll have nothing. You have to blast it all to hell. Can you do that?"

Mulder looked at Skinner. "You have any favors we can call in?"

Skinner nodded and wrote several names down, handing the paper to Mulder. "These men will help you set off a strike, and anything else you need, just mention my name. I can't believe that just with this book we know where they are!"

"When did you put these in the carrier?" Scully asked.

"Right when we were getting ready to leave my room before I threw the cat in. I figured it might help you believe me if you still had doubts."

"I hate to be the first one to admit it, but after everything you've said and done, and all I have seen, I couldn't possibly doubt you."

Holly smiled. "Thanks, Doc."

"Are you sure you're up for all this?" Uh-oh. She was in doctor-mode again.

"Stop worrying, Doc, once we get to the safehouse I'll have nothing but time on my hands to rest. I'm sure Walter will see to that!" she laughed.

"I will at that," Skinner replied, smiling slightly.

"Oh, and one more thing, you two. The place the Consortium meets is on 46th Street in New York City. The exact address is unknown, I believe, but if you can canvass 46th, you've got to be able to find it. There are a few pictures in both of those books to help you make a positive ID. If you can set up hidden microphones and cameras there to monitor, you might get each and every member in one place to make life easy. I'm almost certain they'll be turning out soon to discuss Krycek and the murder of the Assistant Director of the Washington Bureau."

"Wow. Thanks, Ray," Mulder said.

"I wish I knew more. But I think what we've discussed will enable you to shut these pricks down for good. Speaking of which, we need to get an ambulance in here to cart away our carcasses."

"I'll call Frohike," Mulder said, whipping out his cellphone.

While he placed the call, Holly directed her attention to Dana. "Doc, ya gotta promise me that no matter what, you'll be very, very careful. Please. I won't be nearby to heal you or Mulder if you get hurt."

Dana wrapped her arms around her friend as Mulder walked back into the room. "I'll be careful, Ray. I promise." Tears came to her eyes. She could be dead right now. Both Skinner and Ray could be dead if not for Iitiayli. Now her new confidante was going away. Who could be certain they'd ever see each other again? No one knew how long it would take for she, Mulder and Skinner's old 'Nam buddies to put an end to the Consortium. It could take years. What would they do then?

"Don't be sad, Doc." Holly was shedding silent tears. "You'll get them, I know you will." She then went to Fox, even as they heard sirens approaching outside. "Mulder." She took his hands in hers and held them tightly. "Fox. Your faith has been justified. The existence of aliens has been proven. You've finally seen it. And there's not just one alien race, but many. You'll finally be taken seriously, and for that I am so happy."

Fox smiled. A real, genuine smile. "So I guess I'm not so spooky after all, huh?"

"Oh, no, you're still spooky!" she laughed. "But you're also right. Your search has been validated at last. Please promise me something, Fox."

"Anything," he said softly, her hazel eyes having captured his.

"Stay alive. And keep your partner alive."

"I will. I promise."

"No heroics, no rogue forays into dangerous warehouses, and above all, no ditching Doc just because you have an epiphany. You got it?"

Mulder chuckled. "Got it. You take care."

There was knocking at the front door. Mulder went to answer it, and soon Byers, Langly and Frohike were in Scully's bedroom, all wearing paramedics' uniforms.

"Is this the best you could do?" Skinner asked warily.

"Hey, short notice," Langly said. "Okay, dish."

The foursome told their plans to the threesome. They then produced two body bags, which Skinner and Ray climbed into. Scully didn't quite zip them up all the way, so as to allow them air. "Goodbye," she said to them as the Gunmen wheeled them out.

Once they were gone, Mulder noticed Scully just standing in the middle of her room, arms wrapped tightly around herself. He tentatively placed a hand on her arm. "Scully? You okay?"

Although making a valiant effort to fight off the impending tears, Scully just couldn't keep them from escaping her eyes. "Oh, Mulder. Are we doing the right thing here? It all happened so fast! We just did what Ray suggested without even discussing it or analyzing it! Please tell me we're doing the right thing!"

Mulder couldn't help himself. He couldn't stand seeing his Scully crying like this. He enveloped her in his arms and whispered, "Yes, we did the right thing. I agree with everything she said, every analogy she made. We can do this, Scully. We have to do this. Not only for Ray and Skinner, but for ourselves." Mulder backed up and held her at arms' length. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, "We deserve the Truth, Scully. Those bastards deserve to be stopped. We're doing the right thing. I can feel it."

She nodded and regained her composure. "I feel it, too. She knows so much that we can't possibly know ourselves. Things are just happening so fast—I haven't even had time to process what's happened to me over the past few days, let alone everything we have to do now."

"I know, Scully, I know. But we must be strong. One last time. This is it, kiddo. One last stand."

She nodded and gave him a small smile. He flashed her a smile in return, then drew her to him once more. This time she returned the gesture, burying her face in his chest. She mumbled something, but he couldn't hear her.

"What?"

She looked up at him. Their faces were ever so close. "I have found I can be strong...with you by my side, Mulder."

He ran his finger along the side of her face and kissed her forehead. His lips against her skin, he muttered, "Then I'll always be with you, Scully. Always."

When you walk through the storm hold your head up high.
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm is a golden sky.
And the sweet, silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone.
You'll never walk alone.
Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone.
You'll never walk alone.

Four weeks have passed since Walter and I arrived here. We're in a doublewide trailer which looks from the outside like a log cabin, and is only a few steps from a small lake. The house sits in between two tiny towns called Dowagiac and Eau Claire in the state of Michigan. It belongs to an old Vietnam buddy of Walter's who's now a lawyer in a town called St. Joseph about 45 minutes west. The guy's name is Peter Levin. I guess this is kind of his summer getaway home. He had his wife Denise stock the place with food before we arrived. Neither of us have seen either of them, and it will stay that way, both for their safety and ours.

I'd like to recount everything that's happened since we left Doc's house in body bags. TLG took us to an old warehouse in the ambulance, then we all got into their van and headed for their headquarters. Langly had called in a favor from a paramedic acquaintance, and that's how they'd gotten the ambulance and the outfits.

When we got to their place, they made Walter and I fake drivers licenses, social security cards, birth certificates, the whole shmear. So Walter is now officially Warren Satchel and I am Haley Renard. We decided to only call each other those names in public, though.

Then Walter and I rented a car (actually TLG did it through their computer). I picked it up. Walter could have been recognized, so I drove the car back to TLG HQ and picked him up. And we were on our way, after thanking the three geeks (whom I adore) profusely.

The 16-hour drive from DC to our new home wasn't bad. I took the first 8-hour shift and Walter the second. We said very little. I guess we both had a ton of things weighing on our minds.

At one point, somewhere in the vast expanse of nothingness known as Pennsylvania, Walter turned to me and said, "I never did tell you how good dinner was."

I smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad you like my cooking, because it seems you'll be eating it for a while."

"You think this will work?"

"Yes, I do. Mulder and Scully are the best, and they've got an edge right now. I know how much you hate being taken out of the action and I'm sorry."

"I didn't see very many other options. How did you put this all together so quickly?"

"It just came to me. I'm a writer, and things just come to me like that. Suddenly, when I awoke from unconsciousness, it was all so clear."

Walter nodded and silence became our companion for the rest of the trip.

The first thing we did after arriving at the cottage was go clothes shopping. Our wardrobes now consist mainly of jeans, T-shirts, sweats and sweaters, with a couple of nice outfits just in case. TLG had set us up with a joint checking account prior to our arrival, complete with printed checks. I tell you, half the things they do, I never would have thought possible, at least not in my reality. They're simply amazing.

We've spent most of the last month learning each other's likes, dislikes, habits and just watching TV and movies. We've become best friends with the local video store. But Walter was frustrating me to no end. The walls I had so quickly succeeded in breaking down that night at Doc's were erected once more. He was quite cold and noncommittal for the first three weeks. Then came a breakthrough for which I thank the stars.

I was reading the weekly e-mail from the guys on Mulder and Scully's progress. Walter was bored stiff and pulled up a chair next to me to read over my shoulder. All was going well—they felt they were closer than ever to finding Krycek, and they had cameras and mics ready and waiting in NYC for the Consortium.

"Looks like it's working," I commented when we'd finished reading. TLG had bounced messages to us off so many different places, I didn't think even they'd be able to trace it if they tried. And it was always encrypted, for which they'd FedEx'd a decoding disk to us.

Walter nodded. "Yes. It does. Thanks to you."

"Thanks to a lot of people. You, for one. I know you're going stir crazy here."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me. You want to go for a walk by the lake?"

"Sure," he said, standing. I noticed how very tall, muscular and handsome he was. He'd been working out twice a day on a universal machine he'd bought the day we went clothes shopping. He was a fanatic about it, and only last week had begun showing me the proper ways to do exercises. I was now joining him every day, and feeling very good about myself. But for some reason I'd never really paid attention to his striking physique. Yikes. Was I becoming attracted to this man?

We put on our coats, as it was so very cold. When we stepped outside, it had just begun to snow. The silent lake was beautiful as the sun hung low in the sky and the snow clouds rolled in.

"Looks like we're in for a storm," he said.

"Yeah, they were predicting a blizzard this morning, made worse by lake-effect snow."

We continued walking, and finally I asked, "Walter, do you still trust me as much as you did in Scully's apartment?"

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"You just don't talk very much, so I thought maybe you didn't trust me anymore."

"If I didn't trust you, I'd never let you out of my sight, nor would I sleep at night."

"That's good. I'm glad. Because I trust you."

Suddenly he whirled around, jammed his fists into his coat pockets, and in a raised voice said, "I don't know why. I've never given you any reason to."

I stepped up behind him, and his posture became stiff when I laid my cold hand on his coated arm. "I know you are a good man. And I know you would never hurt me."

"I am NOT a good man, Holly!" Oh, I knew he was upset—he'd forgotten to call me Haley out of the house.

"Why?"

"After everything I've done, all the secrets I've kept, all the lies I've told....how can you say I'm good? I've deceived two of the best people on the face of the Earth for years. I've consorted with the Enemy, I've been involved in a conspiracy the size of the goddamned Milky Way!"

He paused, then turned his stony glare on me. His voice was low and full of hate. "Why the hell did you save my life? Why the hell didn't you just let me die the kind of horrible death I deserve?"

I was stunned, to say the least. So that was his problem. Guilt. Funny, I'd always thought that to be Mulder's forte. I'd never figured Walter for the guilty type. "Because I care," was all I could say.

"You care about my agents."

"Well, of course I do! I love them very much in a way no one could ever understand! I wanted to heal you, Walter! Not because of them! Because of you!"

"Because you're sympathetic to all life."

"Hell, NO! I am in no way sympathetic to all life!" We were now standing only a foot apart, yelling quite loudly. "I like very few people, Walter, and you're one of the unlucky sons-of-bitches that falls into that category!" Damn fool made me lose my temper.

But my words must have worked, for he stood there gaping at me like a fish out of water. "I don't get it. I just don't get it," he said quietly.

"Listen, Walter," I said, my own voice much calmer, "you are who you are. Scully blames herself for Melissa's death and tons of other things, Mulder blames himself for everything bad that's ever happened to everybody he knows and loves, and you blame yourself for the decisions you make because you're forced to choose every day between Good and Evil. None of you are to blame for what happens to other people. We all make choices, and regardless of the consequences, we have to live with them! You can't spend the rest of your life ripping yourself a new asshole over the past!" Yes, my voice had risen again. This man's self-deprecation infuriated me!

He silently gazed at the lake. On impulse, I grabbed his hand, only at that moment realizing how large his hands were. His skin was as cold as mine, and the snowfall had now begun in earnest. Every breath froze in the chilled air. I thought for a moment I felt him tremble, and I squeezed his hand in reassurance. His soft voice broke the silence. "No one has ever understood my position. No one has ever cared to understand."

"Yes, but I've seen you with Cancer Man, I've seen some of the decisions you've had to make. Mulder and Scully haven't. But they do trust you now. They understand what you've done for them."

"It's not just them."

Then it dawned on me. "Sharon?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "At first she was proud of my appointment to the position of Assistant Director. But then she became resentful. She just couldn't understand the pressures of the position, all the behind-the-scenes garbage I have to deal with. And she always blew a gasket when I couldn't talk to her about work. She just didn't get it."

"Some people never will, Walter. There are those who aren't capable of accepting life such as it is. I guess Sharon is one of those."

"I guess," he echoed. "I tried so hard to work things out with her. I did love her, you know."

"I know. You still do, I think."

He turned his face to mine, our frosted breaths commingling between our faces. "That is an old love which has all but died with the decay of time and the betrayal of misplaced trust. But I'd rather not talk about her anymore if you don't mind."

Sometime during our conversation, Walter had grasped my hand in return, which I only now noticed. "Of course. I understand."

"I know you do." He turned his face to me, and only then did I see the wetness in his eyes. I was so surprised. This was so totally not the Walter Skinner I'd come to know in my reality. "That's what scares me." And now he's saying he's scared? Of what?

"What scares you?" I asked, not daring to break eye contact.

"That I barely know you, yet trust you so completely. That you know who and what I am, yet you do not shun me as others would. And that you, in turn, trust me, though you know of my liaisons. I can't believe you're real."

It was out. Walter S. Skinner had just done something that to him was more dangerous than making a deal with Cancer Man: he'd opened his soul to me. It dawned on me that he'd probably never spoken to anyone in this manner. "Maybe I'm not real. Who knows what real is anymore? We already know of two realities, what's to say there aren't hundreds? thousands? millions? What difference does it make? You're here now, I'm here now, and like it or not, I think we're going to be enjoying one another's company for a while, so let's do just that and live in the present in this reality. Okay?"

He nodded and actually smiled. One of Walter's smiles was more rare than one from Mulder or Scully, and I found it a treasure. It made him look so much softer about the face. "You're cold. Let's go back to the house." I hadn't even noticed I was shivering.

Yes, it was most definitely snowing hard by this time. The ground already had an inch blanketing it, and the familiar fog of a blizzard had settled in for a stay. Walter didn't let go of my hand until the act of taking his coat off once we'd reached the house forced him to. I blew into my hands to warm them.

"I'll make us some hot cocoa," he offered as he headed for the kitchen. Hot cocoa?

"Only if you spike it."

He looked at me as he took his glasses off. They always fogged up when he went from the extreme cold of outside to the warmth of the house. "With what?"

He looked really nice without his glasses on. "Kahlua."

"One Kahlua and hot cocoa coming up." His voice was still deep, the bassness of its tones vibrating through me like an earthquake. But it was somehow lighter. Perhaps I'd gotten through to him after all.

"Don't forget a coaster, O Bartender!" I giggled as I tucked myself into the corner of the couch.

"Boy, some people sure are demanding. Do you really think I'm blameless in all this?" Jeez, does he switch topics fast.

"Blameless? Oh, I don't know. I don't categorize events in terms of blame. Not worth the effort. Stop obsessing about it, will ya?"

"Okay," he agreed. Why do I feel that victory came too easily? Oh, well, we'll let it rest for now. I'll get him to talk later. We've got the rest of our lives, right? He'll be a whole person one day. And I'll help him. Why? Ugh, I shouldn't think about that right now. It's scary, what I think I'm feeling.

He brought the steaming cups over and handed me one. "Oh, thank you, this will definitely warm me up!" I smiled, closing my eyes and inhaling the smell of chocolate.

When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me. His eyes locked with mine. Brown. Like the deepest, smoothest brown of a Hershey's dark chocolate bar. So very brown; his glasses were still in the kitchen. I saw something, I think, in those depths. I could almost imagine for a moment his irises were swirling, betraying every thought, every emotion running rampant under his steel exterior. The longer I looked, the more I found myself almost entranced. I wanted to reach behind those eyes, into the soul of the man before me. I had an irresistible urge to become one with him as I had the night I'd healed him. To feel myself pour throughout his body, into every crack and crevasse of his being, into the very center of his essence. That one moment I'd spent with him bathed in that white light had engraved itself upon my memory forever, and I found, as I searched his eyes, that I longed for that perfect union once more.

The moment was broken when the lights went out. It was only then that I noticed how loud the wind was whipping outside. The snow pelted the house like hard rain.

"Damn," Walter swore softly. I heard him moving around, and a few moments later a flashlight came on in the kitchen. "I'll check the fuses, but I doubt that's the problem."

I nodded, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see me in the dark. I was still reeling from that staring contest we'd just had. The sudden darkness had torn the moment apart like a child being ripped from its mother's arms even as it suckles. I felt as though all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room. Shit. What was happening?

"Holly? You okay?" Walter came back into the living room, casting the edge of the flashlight's beam onto my face.

"I'm okay," I lied. "No luck with the fuses, huh?"

"No. It's the storm."

"It would figure. I'll get some candles lit," I said, holding my hand out for the flashlight.

He handed it to me and settled his large frame back into the couch. I found several candles, all scented, and placed them at strategic points throughout the house. I could almost feel his eyes on me as I moved about. I finally finished and clicked the flashlight off, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. I sighed. "Now what?" I asked, my hands on my hips in annoyance.

I made the mistake of looking at him. The soft, flickering light from the candles only added to the ethereal setting within as the blizzard raged without. The shadows playing across his face made the air of mystery surrounding him more palatable. I was once again held in place by those damn eyes, much to my chagrin.

He held his hand out to me. "Come. Sit."

I did, casting my eyes downward, all at once feeling very shy as I took his hand. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him staring at my hand enclosed within his. He traced my knuckles with his thumb. I held my breath. He looked up at me. "Thank you." I could barely hear him.

"For what?" Did I say that or think it?

"For believing in me. For saving my life. For being here. I couldn't possibly be dead alone. I'd kill myself."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing and, wonder of wonders, he laughed too. A beautiful sound. At once deeply sensuous and strangely titillating. It made me laugh harder. Which made him laugh harder. Soon tears were streaming down my face. His too. Finally the laughter subsided, leaving us wiping our wet faces, small giggles escaping our throats now and then.

"God, that felt good," he said, taking a sip of the now-cold cocoa.

"Laughter's the best medicine," I quipped, slugging down the rest of my cocoa.

"Do they have a deck of cards here?" he asked, getting up and moving toward the kitchen.

"Huh? Oh, I think there's one in the second drawer from the right. What'cha got in mind?"

"Poker?"

"Don't know how to play."

"Oh."

"Rummy?"

"I can do that," he said. Having found the cards, he seated himself on the floor across the table from me. He concentrated on shuffling and dealing as I watched his hands move. Big, strong hands. I then looked at his face. The face I'm so used to seeing portray a steely hardness that never gives an inch. It is now relaxed. Happy, even. He feels more comfortable with me, and for that I am happy as well.

We spent the next two hours one-upping each other, keeping score, laughing and carrying on like old friends. He was ahead of me by 35 points, and I was about to shuffle the cards when I realized my hands were almost numb.

He must have noticed, because he said, "No power, no heat. I'll get you a blanket."

Before I could respond, he was off to my bedroom and then coming back with my down comforter. He wrapped it around me almost tenderly before seating himself unbearably close. "Give me your hands," he instructed, and I did. He rubbed them with his hands, which were curiously warm. I watched as he attempted to restore feeling to my fingertips. His motions became almost massaging, causing me to close my eyes and snuggle deeper into the comforter.

I felt one of his hands leave mine, but didn't want to open my eyes. Both of my hands rested easily in one of his. I started slightly when I felt his hand lightly graze my cheek as he pulled the comforter around my neck. What did I do then? Oh, God, I leaned my face toward his hand. Why did I do that? The combination of the scented candles, the darkness, feeling safe while the weather howled outside, his warmth.

I don't think either of us breathed. His hand stayed near my face. Aw, what the hell. I leaned my head further towards his hand. To my surprise, he caressed the side of my face. A funny noise escaped my throat that sounded like "Hmmmm."

He then cleared his throat nervously, and pretended to still be tucking the comforter around me. Had I not been half-asleep by this time, I would have chided myself for my gesture. I'd gotten so far with him today, why was I suddenly risking that? Idiot.

"Will you be warm enough?"

I still didn't open my eyes, just nodded my head.

"Then I'll be going to bed."

I nodded and began trying to stretch out on the couch, only to find myself hopelessly entangled in the huge comforter.

A low chuckle emerged from Walter. Unbelievably, he picked me up, comforter and all. For a brief moment our eyes met, but he looked away and proceeded to lay me out flat on the couch. Without a word he went to his room, closing the door behind him.

I settled back into the couch, marveling at the ease with which the big bulk of a man had swept me and the comforter into his arms. Thank God for my thinner body and consequently lighter weight. No longer anything to be concerned about in that area.

I must have fallen asleep soon thereafter. I remember having nightmares about Cancer Man and the bad aliens and Walter. I think they were mostly about members of the Consortium trying to at times kill, at times kidnap, Walter. All I know is I sat bolt upright on the couch drenched in sweat, screaming, "No! NO! Walter! No, don't take him! WALTER!!!"

My cries brought him running into the living room, forgetting that he was clad only in his sweatpants, chest bared for all the world—or just for me—to see. Oy.

But at that point I didn't notice. Tears fell from my eyes, and I suddenly realized how cold it was. My sweat combined with the air to make me start shivering, teeth chattering away. "Walter?"

"It's all right, you were dreaming."

"Are you okay?" I asked, throwing my arms around his neck. My dreams had frightened me. So frightening.

His face buried in my hair, his arms enveloping me, he whispered, "I'm fine except for the heart attack you just gave me. It was only a dream. You're okay."

"It wasn't me they were after, it was you!" I wailed, burying my face in shoulder. Wait, no cloth. Bare. Skin. Holy shit. It was then that I really noticed he was naked from the waist up. Dude. And my arms were around him. Whoa. If I hadn't been so upset, the feel of his skin on mine may have caused some serious arousal, but as it was I could only think of my scary nightmares. Bonehead. Forest for the trees.

"But I'm here, with you, I'm safe," he cooed. I could feel his breathing slow down, his breath on my hair and neck the only warmth in the room save his body. I was still shivering uncontrollably. "You're freezing to death," he commented, pulling away. I could barely see the outline of his features in the dark. I heard the wind still raging outside.

I nodded and said, "This sucks."

He chuckled and, wrapping me like a mummy in the comforter, lifted me gently and took me to my bed. He stood me next to the bed, still supporting me with one hand while his other hand pulled back my bed sheets. He then unwrapped me. I was still wearing my sweatpants and T-shirt. I climbed into bed as he rearranged my comforter.

To my surprise, the man slid into bed next to me, sitting up against the wall (there was no headboard). He pulled the covers over us all the way to our chins, at the same time bringing his long arm around me, pulling me so close to his body. Truth be told, I think I was still half-asleep throughout the entire thing. It seems now like a dream.

"Learned this in 'Nam," he explained. "Body heat. You won't warm up alone."

Accepting his words, I snuggled into him, my head on his broad chest, my cheek resting on his smooth skin. His slow, steady breathing and the feel of his arm around me so protectively lulled me into a happier, dreamless sleep. And I'd stopped shivering.

I awoke the next morning wrapped like a cocoon in all my bedcovers. After extricating myself and using the bathroom, I hopped into the shower. I noticed it was warm, and heard the heat kicking on and off. The lights were working and everything. Thank God for power. All the time we'd spent here, and I'd never once let Walter see me fresh out of bed in the morning. Chalk it up to self-consciousness.

After showering and dressing in a one-piece pink sweatsuit, I went into the dining area, where I found a delicious breakfast awaiting me.

"Good morning," Walter's voice rumbled from the kitchen.

"Is this for me?" I asked brightly.

"You or Jack Frost, whoever gets to it first," he laughed.

I laughed too as he brought his food to the table. Only this time, he sat to my left instead of taking up his customary position at the opposite end. We ate in silence, then got up to do the dishes.

"That was excellent, Walter."

"Yeah. I guess I haven't lost my touch."

As we finished drying the last plates, he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, you know...last night..."

"Oh. That. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Wait, why are you sorry? You can't control nightmares." He leaned against the counter, studying my face, which surely must have been blushing.

The TV was on in the background. I used it to quickly change the subject. "Power came back on, huh?" Oh, that's smart. Overstating the blindingly obvious. Good one, Holly. Real good.

No sooner did the words leave my lips than the TV went silent. The refrigerator stopped humming, the few lights he'd turned on went out. I groaned. "Me and my big mouth."

He laughed softly. "Have you looked outside yet?"

"No," I answered, going to open the back door. I gasped in surprise at the blanket of snow which reached the bottom of our back door—had to be at least 2 to 3 feet high. And still, it snowed. "This is impossible."

"Guess not."

"I want to go out."

"In that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Willingly?"

"Yes. I haven't seen snow like this since I was a kid!" I beamed.

"All right. I'll pull on my coat and go out with you."

Once dressed in heavy coats, boots and gloves, we trudged and floundered our way outside, laughing all the while at our antics. It was glorious. We had several snowball fights, and, simply put, made complete asses out of ourselves in the snow. I have never had so much fun.

Wet and cold, we finally came back into the house. Once back into dry clothes, we met in the living room, where Walter pulled out the cards. For the next couple of hours he taught me how to play poker, using spare change as chips. We ate a lunch of sandwiches and cole slaw, then realized how very bored we both were.

"Have you ever wondered why what's-his-name chose you?"

"Huh?"

"Your....alien friend. Why he chose to communicate with you?"

"Oh, you mean Iitiayli."

"That's the one. Although I doubt I could say that if you paid me."

"It's not that tough, Walter. Repeat after me: E."

He looked at me in exasperation, but said, "E."

"E."

"E."

"Tee."

"Tee."

"Ay."

"Ay."

"Lee."

"Lee."

"Okay. Now say E-E."

"E-E."

"Tee-Ay."

"Tee-Ay."

"Lee."

"Lee."

"Okay. E-E-Tee."

"E-E-Tee."

"Ay-Lee."

"Ay-Lee."

"Now let's go for broke. E-E-Tee-Ay-Lee."

"E-E-Tee-Ay-Lee."

"That's it! Iitiayli!"

"Iitiayli."

"Congratulations, Walter, you've just learned how to pronounce your very first extraterrestrial name."

Our hearty laughter echoed in the silence of a house with no electricity. He soon became serious, though. "Have you ever wondered?"

I nodded. "I've thought of little else since the first time."

"And?" he prodded gently.

I threw my hands in the air and began pacing. "Not a clue. No idea whatsoever. Nada. Zip. Zilch."

"And he's never explained it?"

"Not once."

"Have you dreamed of him recently?"

"Not since he gave me the gifts. I would have told you."

"I know. I was just hoping for some more information." He paused. "I wonder how our agents are faring."

How, indeed.

The funeral, the inevitable questions, the stares from coworkers—that had been the easy part. The rumor mill in the J. Edgar Hoover building was running rampant with gory details, all false of course, as to why AD Skinner and a Jane Doe were in Special Agent Scully's apartment, and why Spooky and Mrs. Spooky went to her apartment together where they'd found the aforementioned duo dead of gunshot wounds.

But these were superficial annoyances to the FBI's Two Most Unwanted. DAD Thomas had been promoted to the AD position, and was far less accommodating than Skinner had been. The two found themselves missing their former boss terribly. But Thomas wasn't dirty, for which the two were thankful. They'd convinced him that they should investigate Skinner's death instead of Violent Crimes, as they knew the 'victim' better than VCS, so it gave them the free rein to do what they needed to put their plan into action.

Once a week, Skinner and Holly e-mailed TLG, so Mulder and Scully knew they were safe. The two found it irking that their counterparts wouldn't allow phone-to-phone conversations, but they understood. If the fact that Skinner was still alive ever leaked to anyone, he was as good as dead, and the whole plan for snagging the Consortium would go awry.

So much for the easy part. The hard part was that Mulder and Scully found themselves together even more than in the past. There was some unspoken fear each held for the others' safety in this newest cloak and dagger game they'd begun. And the fact that they slept over at one anothers' apartments almost every night out of safety concerns put them in the awkward position of feeling almost like a normal couple. There were many times Scully had shut herself in her room, or Mulder had lost himself in the TV screen, simply to avoid the other. Being in such close proximity on such a continual basis was disconcerting at best.

Fox wanted desperately to take her in his arms and say to hell with the Truth and the Consortium and everything else. But damn it, he knew that wasn't the answer. He'd begun this quest alone so many years ago, and had dragged this wonderful woman with him into the depths of his diseased and tortured soul, down into the crevasses of his very being, long hidden from outside view. Someplace deep within himself, where somehow she had broken through and touched him with the very essence of her. There had never been a single sexual act between them, but he felt more connected to her, in a way even he couldn't hope to explain, than with anyone in his entire, miserable, wretched life. Sure, he harbored more guilt than he could have thought possible for the things she had endured either because of him, or because of her association with and loyalty to him. But at that moment in his building's hallway when he had spoken those words to her and they had almost kissed, he knew that, regardless of the continued torture to her being, he was too selfish and too needy to ever be able to truly let her go. He needed her. Badly. Not just on the X-Files, no. The man Fox William Mulder needed the woman Dana Katherine Scully to complete him, to save him, to be with him. Forever.

Yet he could never find the words to tell her as much, although he suspected she knew it already. Every look that passed between them, every unspoken thought and feeling—they knew each other so well, yet were so very afraid to express it with anything other than the occasional glance or friendly touch of hand to arm, lips to forehead, head to chest. God, he was so screwed up. What the hell right did he have to love her so? What the hell right did he have to force her to continue in the face of nearly unbeatable odds time after time? Yes, he still desperately wanted to find his sister, but was the price of Dana Scully's spirit, nay, her very life, one he was willing to pay? Time after time he had done just that. Except once when he'd traded the Samantha clone for his partner. Yet he'd felt certain he could have them both. Maybe that was just it. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe, he thought for the first time, I have to choose. I either ditch Scully and continue looking for my sister, or mentally lay Samantha to rest and seek out the ultimate relationship with my best friend. Why couldn't he have both? Why?

As for Dana, as far as she was concerned, there could never be a physical relationship between her and Mulder. She'd long ago dismissed it as an impossibility. Not if she were to continue at his side as the ever-faithful companion in their search for the Truth and for his sister. She knew Samantha was the one thing which had started his journey alone so many years ago. Then she had breezed into his life to prove once and for all what a kook he was, to help their very own government destroy him. And found she couldn't. There was something about him on that first case which had reached right into the most hidden part of her being and brought to the surface an unbridled trust and respect for the man. She didn't know him from Adam, yet she felt somehow connected to him. Missy had told her it was fate—that their souls were old and had seen much, and were destined to be together from one life into the next. She had scoffed at her sister's past-life mishmosh way back then. But as time had progressed, as her trust and fondness for her partner had increased, Melissa's words had been niggling away at Dana's psyche, causing her to doubt the very scientific and religious fundamentals upon which she had based her entire life and principle structure.

And damn that Fox Mulder, he always seemed to be able to chip away at her 'Ice Queen' exterior, leaving parts of her inner self exposed in such a way that at times she almost wished it was parts of her naked body he'd exposed, feeling that to be much easier to deal with than the pieces of her soul he'd glimpsed. It was frightening to know there was someone who held not only your heart, but the entirety of who you were in the palm of their hand. She knew she would follow him to the ends of the Earth, and had on several occasions, just because of who he was and what they shared. She knew that he blamed himself for everything she'd endured, and she in turn blamed herself for him feeling that way. Damn, damn, damn, she just wanted to wrap her arms around him, lose herself in him forever, hold tight and never, ever let go. But, she chided herself, that was not an option at this point. Maybe, after the Consortium had been dealt with, when the only thing left to do was find Samantha, maybe then....but not now. Mulder, Skinner and Ray needed her functioning at full capacity, not lost in the depths of her own dreams.

Later on that same week, Walter and I were just hanging out, still ever-so-bored.

"Why do you care? I mean, I don't get it."

"What don't you get, Walter?" I asked.

"We're just a television show where you come from, right? So why do you care so much for people who, in your world, were just fictional characters? I've never cared enough for anyone who doesn't exist to be willing to do what you have done."

I sighed. How to explain myself without ending up in a funny farm? "I really don't know that I have all the answers you seek." Whoa, that sounded more like something Scully would say. "However, let me tell you how I first became involved with the show."

Walter seated himself on a bar stool as I leaned my hip against the bar counter opposite him. Those brown eyes of his were boring into my skull. I could feel it. In a way, this man's thirst for the truth was as great and unquenchable as Mulder's.

I proceeded to explain the first time I'd watched the show, and how I'd grown progressively more attached to it until one day I realized I was no longer just a fan—I was obsessed. Almost every waking moment contained some thought regarding anything remotely connected to the X-Files. I even dreamed about the characters. I read fan fiction voraciously, and wrote it just as fiercely. I collected anything I could put my hands on that had anything to do with the X-Files. My entire life revolved around it, especially after that first dream I'd had (which was actually Iitiayli's first visit to me).

Throughout my diatribe, Walter remained silent, his face expressionless. He blinked his eyes only, and once looked away (when I mentioned how smitten I had been by Mitch Pileggi at a convention). Other than that, no reaction.

When I'd finished, I asked, "So, are you going to have me committed now, or what?"

"The thought has occurred to me," he answered. I could see the momentary gleam of humor in his eyes. "You know, in a way you remind a lot of Agent Mulder."

"How so?" I asked, leaning my upper body on the bar. My action brought our faces dangerously close, and I found myself holding my breath.

"You believed in something that caused those who knew you to chastise you. Yet you persevered, and now you have found your truth." He paused and turned his face away. "I envy people like you."

I placed my hands over his. "Walter, isn't there something you believe in? As much as Mulder and I believe in our Truths?"

He sighed and turned his eyes to mine once more. "I used to believe, Holly. A long time ago. But I have seen and taken part in so many lies that I'm not altogether certain there is one single Truth to believe in anymore."

"Don't give up, Walter." I squeezed his hand. "The truth is out there. And we will find it."

He smiled wistfully before heading off to the bathroom. The wheels in my mind began turning. What could I do to give him back his faith?

"Uh-huh. Right," Mulder said to the telephone. "I owe you, Branson." As he hung up, he saw Scully's raised eyebrow. "That was Branson, Scully," he explained. "We've got him." Something akin to glee rested in his eyes.

"Krycek?"

He nodded.

"How can we be certain? We've been chasing false leads for a month."

"Branson saw him with his own eyes. Said he didn't look very good, but he knew it was Krycek."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Branson's a credible contact. He's helped me out a lot over the years. He's never once led me astray."

"It could be the Syndicate got to him, Mulder. This could be a trap."

"Only one way to find out," he replied, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

Then his phone rang again for the second time in ten minutes. Crossing quickly to his desk, he picked it up. "Mulder."

"E-mail," the voice said, then hung up.

"The Gunmen want me to check my e-mail," Mulder said, flipping his computer on. That was always how they notified him of something, just one-word phrases.

Scully stood next to him as he opened and decoded their message. It was pictures. Pictures from the Consortium's meeting place. Men were scanning the room for bugs. TLG's narrative explained they'd not find the hidden mics and cameras due to interference TLG were causing with their equipment. Frohike's last words were a chilling foreshadow: The party is about to begin.

"Shit!" Mulder swore as he erased the e-mail. "We've got to get Krycek!"

Scully nodded, and they raced to her car, Mulder taking the wheel. Time was short. Soon they'd all be gathered in one place. Scully called Colonel James, one of AD Skinner's trusted Marine friends.

"Do you recall us asking how quickly you could assemble a team?" she asked.

"Yes."

"What's the answer?"

"Where and when?"

She gave him the address in New York City and added, "Start assembling now. But wait for our word before you move. And don't let yourselves be detected, Colonel. This is unexplainably important." She paused. "The shit's about to hit the fan. I'll be in touch."

"Very impressive, Scully," Mulder joked.

"Where are we going?"

"Krycek went underground. Literally."

"Sewers?" Scully made a face.

"No. There are old tunnels beneath the sewers. They were once used to smuggle slaves through DC, but were mostly forgotten after the Civil War."

"Apparently not by everyone."

"I have only heard stories of their existence, but Branson found two different entrances. Krycek led him right to one, and Branson found the other on his own after following Krycek into the tunnels and losing him."

"Where?"

"The Smithsonian," he answered as he pulled into a spot near the museum. "This is it, Scully." He turned to her, placing his hand over hers. "What we've been waiting for."

She nodded solemnly. "Let's go get the sonofabitch."

Mulder laughed as he exited the car. "Boy, am I glad you're on my side."

I was mildly surprised to find that all the television shows in this reality were exactly the same as those in my reality. With one notable absence: the X-Files. I found myself annoyed that it wasn't on, then laughed at myself. Who needs the show when you're living it?

As it was, one evening about a week later, Walter and I sat on opposite ends of the couch watching The Hunt for Red October. Great movie, by the way. I caught Walter looking at me a couple of times in my peripheral vision, but he'd managed both times to revert his eyes back to the TV before I could turn my head.

At one point, I turned to look at him. He seemed lost in the movie, so I openly stared. He was wearing blue jeans and a black sweater. God, he looked gorgeous! Scenes from the movie reflected off his glasses. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table, his arms splayed out on either side of him. I watched as he began flexing his hands, his jaw muscle twitching ever-so-slightly. He knew I was watching him.

Then I yawned, and he turned to me. "Tired?"

"Yes. But I want to see the end of the movie."

I could've sworn his face flushed a little when he patted his leg and said, "Why don't you lay down, then, and get comfortable?"

!

"Okay. Thanks." I tried to be nonchalant about it, but Jesus Christ, the guy had just asked me to lay my head in his lap!

!!

I turned onto my left side and gently lowered my head onto his legs. I was so nervous, I knew I couldn't possibly relax. He didn't quite seem to know what to do with his right hand at first. Then, as if coming to some sort of decision, he began using it to pull my hair away from my face.

Holy arousal, Batman.

Seeming to become more confidant when I didn't protest, he ran his fingers through my hair at a steady pace. I could feel his leg muscles lose their tension even as my own body began to do the same.

Walter was single-handedly forcing every nerve in my body to concentrate on my hair follicles. After several long minutes of stroking my hair, his hand came to rest on my upper right arm, tracing small unknown patterns on it at odd intervals.

I sighed in contentment. Shortly thereafter, he did the same.

As I drifted off to sleep, I knew without a doubt that there was nowhere else in reality I wanted to be than where I was right now.

With him.

They walked around, seemingly normal visitors, until a short, fat man bumped into Mulder. A folded piece of notebook paper fell to the floor. The man mumbled his pardons as Mulder stooped to pick up the paper, saying, "Oops. Scully, I've got to use the little boys' room."

She knew he was going in there to read the passed note. That guy must have been Branson, she thought as Mulder disappeared into the crowd of tourists.

Ten minutes later, Scully still stood in the same place, eyes alert, watching for anything and everything. She finally saw Mulder emerge from the restroom and head down the adjoining hall in the opposite direction. She followed, and met him as the hallway curved to the right.

"This way," he whispered.

They came upon a very normal-looking office door. Mulder soon had the lock picked, and they drew their guns as they entered. Mulder flipped on the light switch. A very normal-looking office from the inside, too. Scully sighed.

Mulder went to the desk and crawled under it. After much grunting, scraping and bumping of his head, Mulder exclaimed, "Scully!"

She was instantly behind him, only to find he'd uncovered a hole in the floor. "This is the entrance?"

"Yep. I'll go down first."

It was a thin vertical shaft, the only footholds being scantily placed wooden boards. It reminded Mulder of a similar shaft from the alien ship. He shuddered in spite of himself. Wordlessly they descended farther and farther, until Mulder whispered, "Stop."

Scully tried to peer below her, but could see nothing in the dark, cramped space. She heard some rustling and scuffling and then a small thud. "Mulder?" she whispered, momentarily frightened.

"Keep coming," he whispered back.

She breathed a sigh of relief and continued her descent until she took a step and realized there was nothing but air below her. She gasped, but quieted when she felt Mulder's hands on her ankles. Her shoes fell off, but she paid no heed. Thank God I wore a pantsuit today, she thought as Mulder's hands climbed her legs to guide her down.

He waited until his hands were on her hips, then said, "Let go."

She did, and he slowly lowered her until her feet felt a wet, hard surface. He released her and pulled out his flashlight. She did the same.

Wet, dripping tunnels. Very obviously man-made, and quite small. Not even Scully could stand upright. Mulder pulled out the piece of paper and scanned it, then began walking.

It seemed like forever, but finally they came to a sort of hub, with five tunnels like spokes extending in different directions.

"Now what?" Scully whispered.

"Now you die," came a familiar voice.

Mulder and Scully whirled around as one, pointing their flashlights in the man's direction.

"Krycek. Fancy meeting you here," Mulder said flatly.

A gunpoint standoff. Krycek didn't have a chance. He could easily kill one of them, but the other would've killed him in return for his efforts before he'd get a second shot off.

"You don't look so good," Scully said.

"Fuck you. You're the reason I'm in this mess. Why the hell aren't you ever in your own home?" he snarled. A coughing fit seized him, and Scully's doctoral instincts kicked in. She took a step towards him, but he steadied himself and pointed the barrel of his gun at her head. "Don't."

"Krycek," Mulder intoned, drawing the man's gun from Scully's head to his, "listen to me. We're here to help you."

"Bullshit!" he spat, and launched into another coughing fit. This time blood came up with the phlegm.

The gun in Krycek's hand wavered. Mulder thought about taking him out, but the guy looked like he was going to drop any minute.

And drop he did. The gun clattered to the ground as Krycek collapsed into a heap. Scully rushed to his side, feeling his forehead, taking his pulse. "Mulder, he's burning up. We've got to get him to a hospital."

"Scully, you know we can't do that. They'll kill him. And us too, if we're around."

"He's sick! He's no good to us if he's dead!"

"Can you make him better?"

"Not without the proper equipment and medication. Not to mention blood tests—"

"We can get that, Scully. Please."

"Whatever. But we can't stay here."

Mulder hefted Krycek up over his shoulder. Scully took his flashlight and gun, and picked up Krycek's weapon from the floor.

"He's lucky you don't hold a grudge, Doctor."

"I'll let the justice system hand him my grudge on a silver platter," she spat. "Which way?"

"Branson said to take that spoke to get out if we couldn't go back the way we came. And there's no way we're getting Krycek up that shaft."

Scully followed his arm with her flashlight. "Then let's go," she said, leading the way with her beam.

In silence they continued for almost an hour. Finally Mulder dropped Krycek to the ground, seating himself next to him. He groaned.

Scully shone the light on him, then back down the tunnel. "I'm going to go on ahead and see if I can find the exit. Did Branson tell you what to look for?"

"He said...I'd know...it when....I see it," Mulder gasped between heavy breaths. He watched as she and her flashlight slowly faded from view. He could hear Krycek's ragged breaths next to him. "Damn you," he said softly.

Another coughing fit seized Alex, bringing him slowly to consciousness. "Why the hell did you come looking for me?" he croaked.

"Aside from the obvious?" Mulder answered wryly. "Because you're going to help us destroy the Consortium."

"Yeah, right," Krycek laughed evilly, more cough than actual laugh. "Make me."

"You stupid sonofabitch, you tried twice to kill her!" Mulder exclaimed. "You killed her sister, my father and our boss! It's retribution time!"

"They'll kill me before I even get the chance to testify," Krycek whispered.

"No, they won't. We're about to bring them all in," Mulder replied smugly.

"Others will continue in their footsteps. You'll never succeed totally."

The shrill ringing of Mulder's cellphone startled him. "These things work way down here?" he asked of no one in particular. "Mulder."

"I've found the exit," Scully's voice came through static. "I'm coming back for you."

"How far?"

"About three-quarters of a mile."

"We can make it. He's awake."

"Okay. I left the flashlight and gun next to you. Just follow the tunnel—there'll be no more branches."

"We'll be right there," Mulder said, turning off the phone. "On your feet, asshole," he said, pulling Alex's arm.

Krycek groaned as they stumbled along, resting very heavily on Mulder. "Brother saving brother. How very Norman Rockwell."

"That's a lie. Shut up." Mulder didn't want to hear it. The idea that Cancer Man could be their father made him want to vomit.

"You finally get your damned sacred Truth, but you don't like it so you refuse to accept it. Selfish bastard."

"Shut up, Krycek!" Mulder yelled. "Just shut the fuck up! You speak only lies! That's all you've ever done!"

Alex quieted only because he was too weak to walk and talk at the same time.

Scully saw the flashlight and retraced her steps to help them. By that time, Alex was almost unconscious again, and Mulder was grateful for her help.

"We go up there. I think we can drag him. It looks pretty smooth." Scully shined her beam at an opening about five feet off the ground. It looked like a large storm drain, flat on the bottom, rounded on the sides. It looked big enough to crawl up its gentle slope, cramped fit though it might turn out to be.

Mulder left Scully with Alex and hoisted himself up into the drain. She handed him Alex's arms, and with his pulling and her lifting, they managed to get Krycek into the opening. Then Mulder helped Scully up. He took the front, ass-first, pulling Alex by his arms, while Scully unceremoniously pushed his behind. All that could be heard was a man and a woman grunting and "oomp"ing while a second man groaned deliriously. It was pitch black as they slowly ascended, neither able to hold a flashlight and maneuver Alex at the same time.

After an eternity, muscles screaming in pain, Mulder's legs fell over the side of whatever was behind him. He told Scully to stop, and pulled out his light.

"What is it?" she asked, her small voice echoing loudly.

"A small room. We're about ten feet off the ground. There are stairs of some sort in the far corner. I'm going in."

"Be careful, Mulder."

"Yes, Mother, I will."

Scully snorted and watched the beam play off the walls as Mulder lowered himself. She heard the thunk of him falling to the floor below.

"I'm okay. Can you push Alex over the edge?"

"Why not, he's already pushed me over." After some effort, she said, "No, I can't move him alone. Wait, let me try something."

Mulder shone his light up at the opening. He heard some scuffling. "Scully?"

She crawled over top of Alex, shivering at the close contact their bodies shared for that brief moment. When Mulder called her name, she popped her head out of the opening.

He smiled when her red hair appeared. "What are you doing?"

"I can only move him by pulling him. You just make certain you catch him when I pull him over the edge."

"I'm with you."

She grabbed Alex's arms and heave-ho'd twice before she succeeded in pulling him towards her. She squished herself to the side of the little tunnel and dragged him inch by inch toward the edge.

"I see his arm, Scully. Keep him coming!"

"I'm working on it!" she panted. God, was she tired. But she kept pushing and dragging and pulling Alex to the edge until at last his own weight and gravity pulled him down toward Mulder.

"Here he comes!" she called, pulling out her flashlight to look down.

An "Ugh!" and a thump later, Mulder had more or less caught Krycek as he fell, but they'd ended up sprawled out on the floor.

"I'm coming," Scully called down.

"Wait, let me catch you!"

"Like you did him?"

"Very funny. Okay. Come on down, you're the next contestant on 'Escape From the Tunnels'!"

Scully sighed and tried to lower herself into Mulder's arms with some ounce of dignity. But there was nothing dignified about his hand suddenly going to her ass to steady her descent.

"Mulder, move your hand."

"Calm down, Scully, I'm not in the mood to get thrills right now. Not even from you."

She scowled, which he couldn't see, as he eased her down to the floor. Together they dragged Alex to the steep staircase.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, lowering herself onto a step.

"What?" Then he noticed her feet. "Scully, you're not wearing any shoes."

"The great Sherlock Holmes strikes again."

"Oh, that's right, they fell off when we entered the tunnel."

"Simply brilliant."

"Stop it, Scully! I'm tired too, you know!"

"This is ridiculous. Look at the size of that staircase! We can't possibly get him up those! We don't even know where they lead! What if it's a dead end?"

Mulder thought for a moment, then whipped out his cellphone.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting help."

An hour later, the Cavalry arrived in the form of Byers and Langly. They'd followed Mulder's directions for getting into the tunnels and found them easily.

"Frohike's continuing to monitor 46th," Byers informed them. "They're gathering."

"All of them?" Scully asked.

Langly nodded. "One by one. We have no way of knowing if it's every member, but it's a lot. Who's this guy?" he jerked a thumb in Alex's direction.

"Alex Krycek," Mulder answered.

"That's Krycek? He looks like shit." From Langly.

"Come on, guys, we've got to get him up the stairs. Scully..."

She stood and started up the steps, finishing his thought aloud. "I'll scout ahead."

The wooden staircase bowed, but held under the weight of the four men.

"There's a door!" they heard Dana call back to them.

"Can...you...open it?" Byers puffed.

"I'll shoot the lock off. It's a padlock. Krycek must have put it here."

They heard the gunshot and the ping of metal. "Got it!" she called. They heard the door creak open.

"Scully?"

"It's okay. It looks like a subbasement."

The three men finally got Alex to the landing and into the rather small room Scully had found.

"Don't tell me there's a warehouse above us," Mulder moaned as they lowered Alex's body to the floor.

"Judging by our point of entry and our point of departure, I'd say that's a pretty safe guess," Byers said.

"What is it with us and warehouses, Scully?"

"Let's just get the hell out of here," she snapped.

"Where to?" Byers asked.

"Once we figure out where we are, I'll go back for the van," Langly offered.

"Let's take him to my place," Scully decided. "I have a few medical supplies there. Guys, I'll need you to get me some things."

"No prob," Langly said.

Without too much undue effort, the foursome and their burden made it up into the warehouse and to a door. Langly took a look around as the men walked outside. "Oh, sure, I know where we are. This is pretty close to where Esther Nairn was staying. I'll go get the van. Stay here."

Mulder nodded. As he walked back into the warehouse, he watched as Scully tended to Alex. She had removed her jacket and was using it to blot at his sweaty face. She checked his pulse, his eyes, felt his forehead.

And suddenly Mulder felt jealousy creep into his soul. Not a pleasant feeling. Not the time or place for it, either. She was just doing her job. Just being a doctor. He knew that. Wonderful, perfect Scully was trying to help a man who had twice tried to kill her. The man who killed his father and her sister. She had an amazing ability to achieve total clinical detachment. Something he never thought he'd be able to do under the same circumstances.

While they waited for Langly to return, Byers placed a call to Frohike. He mostly listened for about fifteen minutes, then hung up.

"What's the latest?" Mulder asked.

"It seems everyone has gathered," Byers informed them. "No one new has arrived recently, and they're in the throes of discussion. They've mentioned Krycek and you two several times. Your smoking friend is there as well."

"Scully, get Skinner's friends to move on them. Tell them to get the New York field office and NYPD to help them."

"Mulder, what grounds do we have?"

"We have him." Mulder pointed down to Krycek.

"But he didn't agree to testify. With the Consortium in shackles, he may not want to deal."

"Scully, this may be our only chance to get them all! What's on Frohike's tapes alone will be enough to at least hold them on suspicion for...something!"

Scully chewed her bottom lip as her mind raced. If only she could talk to Holly. That woman seemed to know everything. "Fine. I'll call." Scully whipped out her cellphone, first calling the Colonel, and then the New York FBI field office. She convinced them to send their best agents out and garner some assistance from some trustworthy cops.

When she hung up, Mulder looked first at Byers, then straight into Scully's eyes.

"It has begun."

There was enough military force to invade Kuwait without any problem. The FBI arrived, and the commanders and agents-in-charge conversed briefly. A plan of attack had already been laid out, and now each man and woman moved into place.

The watches had been synchronized. The countdown had begun.

60 seconds.

They started toward the building.

40 seconds.

Snipers took position on surrounding rooftops.

20 seconds.

Up both inside stairwells and the fire escape.

0 seconds.

They burst into the room.

Frohike watched both monitors, mouth hanging open.

Not a single member had a weapon. Their overconfidence was now to be their undoing.

A freshly lit cigarette was dropped on the floor and snuffed out as he stood there and awaited his fate. He looked at each of his companions. First fear registered in their faces, then the masks of indifference settled into place as men in camouflage and trenchcoats and police uniforms handcuffed each of them in turn. The man sighed inwardly. Damn that Mulder. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. 'My own son is now to be my undoing,' he thought to himself.

'It has begun.'

Byers and Langly had gone to fetch some medical supplies for Scully—no one knew how they'd come by them and no one cared. Mulder called Frohike for an update. Scully drew a cool-water bath in which to place Krycek, who was by now burning up. She then retreated to her guest bedroom to take his temperature.

When Mulder's call ended, he entered the bedroom. "They got 'em," he said quietly.

She blinked and stared at him. "All of them?"

He nodded. "According to Frohike's descriptions of the men, yes."

Scully let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as Mulder continued. "Frohike's en route to HQ with the tapes, Scully. They'll be held."

Scully absentmindedly took the thermometer from Alex's mouth as it beeped. As if snapping back to the here and now, Scully began yanking Krycek's clothes off him. "Mulder, help me undress him. We've got to get him into the tub. He's got a temperature of 104.1 degrees!"

Mulder helped her, taking everything off Alex but his underwear. He carried the man to the tub, placing him into the cool water. Krycek began mumbling incoherently, sometimes thrashing about.

"Watch him, Mulder. I don't want him drowning," Scully ordered.

The look she received asked, 'Why not?'

"Walter, oh my God, Walter!" Holly exclaimed from her chair in front of the computer desk.

"What is it?" he asked as he came up behind her.

"They did it! They nabbed the Consortium! The whole damned lot of them!"

"And Krycek?"

"Frohike says Byers and Langly went to help Mulder and Scully bring him in. He's sick or something." She turned her face up, where her eyes met his. "They did it," she said softly.

"I don't believe it," Walter whispered. "Son of a bitch." He placed his hand on Holly's shoulder. "It will soon be time to return."

She nodded and they sat in silence. The roads would soon be plowed enough for them to get out. This was the end. But it was also the beginning. She placed her hand over Walter's and lay her head on it.

"It has begun."

"It is time, Truthseeker."

"For what?"

"You must save them."

"Mulder and Scully."

"Yes. A new Truthseeker has joined you."

"Walter."

"Yes. You both shall be taken to a place. There you will discover what is needed to assist One and Two. Then you will go to them. There is yet one Evil to overcome. The Kum'Cha will attempt to harm those who seek to destroy them. Only you can stop them."

"Why can't you do it?"

"We are forbidden to directly exist on your sphere. Our law is clear. Only through you may I assist."

"Why me, Iitiayli? Why did you choose me?"

"The one in this reality who was to assist was destroyed by the Kum'Cha. Her destiny was to aid the Truthseekers. She was you. Our bond was strong, yet I was unable to save her. I sought you as replacement when she had been eliminated. It had to be you. It could be no other."

"Why did it have to be me, Iitiayli? I don't understand."

"Your seed is preordained. The balance of all universes was ruptured by your death in this reality. To restore the proper path here, it was necessary to bring you to this place."

"My seed? You mean children?"

"A child. I can say no more. We must go. Come."

Skinner stood over Holly's sleeping form as he listened to her verbalize both sides of the conversation. Suddenly, a shadow covered the house. He ran to the window and saw a sight he'd never believed possible. "Mulder was right," he breathed.

The disc-shaped object hovered outside of the window, at least two hundred feet off the ground. The window opened seemingly of its own volition, sending freezing cold air whipping past Skinner. He turned to see Holly floating up off the couch and toward the window. "No," he whispered.

But an overwhelming sense of peace filled his being. Almost like the feeling he'd had when Holly had healed him, but somehow more sterile. Holly floated past him and out of the window into the belly of the craft. Walter soon followed. Then, in a flash of light, the craft vanished.

And suddenly they were standing in a library inside a mansion somewhere.

"What the—?" Skinner asked. He turned to Holly, whose eyes were closed, and touched her arm.

Her eyes snapped open. "Walter?"

"Why are we here?"

"The diary. This is Well-Manicured Man's house. He left it here. It tells everything."

"Where is it?"

"The...the safe." Holly went to a bookshelf. She pulled one book out, then more. Skinner helped until at last they found a wall safe behind the bookshelf. Holly touched her hand to the lock. They heard it click three times. Then she pulled the handle, and the door opened. She and Walter grabbed everything they could, and were suddenly floating out the window.

As they disappeared, Walter muttered, "I wish they'd warn us first."

Mulder had pulled Alex out of the tub and placed him on the guest bed. Thanks to TLG, Scully had most of the medical necessities and promptly decided he had severe pneumonia. She'd set up an IV and had sedated him to keep his fits down to a minimum.

Frohike arrived at the apartment shortly thereafter. Byers and Langly had gone back to their HQ to notify Skinner and Ray that they could now return safely.

"So, how'd it go?" Mulder asked.

"Very well. I'm not usually one to head into the lions' den, but your AD was quite understanding when I explained how I was involved. He viewed some of our surveillance footage and called Rona. They're getting ready to meet as we speak—with the President, no less—but they want you two there. And Krycek."

"Did you tell them about Skinner?"

"No. Didn't think you wanted me to."

"Good. We need him back here before we go in. And we need Krycek conscious."

"Yes," Scully added. "We can't very well offer his testimony to them without his consent."

Frohike left to join his pals. The two agents sat in the living room, mulling over many things.

"They can get here in four hours by plane," Mulder mused.

"Mulder...how do you suppose they're...doing? I mean, we haven't actually spoken to either of them. The only updates we get is via The Lone Gunmen's e-mail."

Mulder looked sideways at his partner. She looked sad. But she should be happy. And so should he. But he wasn't either. What the hell was wrong with them? "Scully, what the hell is wrong with us?"

She looked surprised as she turned to face him. Eyes wide, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Should he continue on with this line of thought? Where would it take them? "I—I don't know. Here we've captured the heads of the Consortium—the same bastards who've committed unspeakable acts not only against the entire world, but specifically against both of us. Our enemies are finally behind bars, and they'll finally be brought to justice. And we've discovered that our former boss is trustworthy, and we've made a wonderful new friend in the process. We've been provided with proof of the existence of extraterrestrials, and Alex Krycek is no longer running amok to kill as he pleases. So why the hell aren't we celebrating, Scully? Why are you and I sitting here like we've both just lost our best friends?"

Poor Scully could hardly believe her partner's words. She could feel something wasn't right, but didn't know what it was any more than he did. She felt so melancholy. Then realization struck like a bolt of lightning. "Could it be because we're losing the very thing that's kept us fighting so hard for six years?" Where had that come from?

His countenance grew sadder, if that were possible, as he looked into the depths of his best friend's eyes. "I don't know. Maybe that's it, Scully. I—I suddenly feel...lost, somehow. I still haven't found Samantha. And I doubt Cancer Man or any of his buddies are going to spill their guts if they truly know anything. And the aliens are still out there. It's only a matter of time before they find another way to invade our planet. I just..." the tears began rolling down his cheeks, "Scully, I'm so lost now."

Her own eyes now moist, she scooted over to him and put her arms around him as he wept softly. "I'm here, Mulder. I'm still here. I'm sorry if that doesn't count for much, but..."

"Are you kidding?" he looked up at her, grabbing her face in his two hands. "You've always been here for me. You know how I feel about you. I've told you. I know I never show it, but I can't live without you, Scully. The fact that you've been willing to stick by me through it all means everything to me...everything!"

"I know." her voice was barely audible. "I know, Mulder. We can still look for your sister. This is by no means the end. There are still vampires and fat-suckers and lightning-conducting boys and wacko psychics out there for us to find. And I'm certain Skinner will be reappointed as Assistant Director once all is said and done, so he'll keep the X-Files open for us. We'll continue to look. We'll never give up the search. I pro—"

Suddenly a light shimmered in the kitchen. They jumped to their feet and stared in awe as two forms materialized out of nowhere. Then the bright white light was gone, leaving Walter Skinner and Holly Ray in its wake, deeply involved in conversation. Mulder wiped his eyes on his sleeve as he took in the fantastic scene.

"...did he say you'd know?" Walter was asking.

"He just said I would," replied Holly. "I wouldn't worry. Iitiayli always keeps his promises."

Simultaneously they realized where they were. Dana Scully's kitchen.

"RAY!!" Scully cried, running up and throwing her arms around her.

"DOC!!" Holly squealed. When she and Dana had separated, Holly turned to Fox, who was, characteristically, hanging back a bit, uncomfortable with such displays of emotion. In fact, he was rather surprised by his partner's performance.

Holly knew he'd never take the initiative, so she walked up to him and held her arms out in front of her, clearly indicating her wishes. He smiled shyly—and Holly thought she'd melt right into the carpet at the sight. Then he opened his arms as well and enveloped her in quite a bear hug. She was surprised but pleased, and squeezed him so tightly she thought he might break. Neither of them understood this reaction to being reunited, but they embraced it along with each other. It made Fox feel warm and fuzzy, and it made Holly feel like she had come home. So strange...

In the meantime, Scully had turned to shake Skinner's hand. "You look well," she stated.

"You look exhausted," Holly said to her as she and Fox parted.

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. Okay, Doc, whatever you say."

"Perhaps I'm questioning the obvious, but how the hell did you guys get here?" Mulder asked, a slight smile on his face.

"Oh. Sorry. Iitiayli's ship," Holly replied.

"What?!?" Scully's voice had risen about an octave.

"Aliens, Scully. A UFO. They rode in a goddamned UFO!!!" Mulder was very obviously about to do a jig.

Shooting her partner the famous "look," Scully cocked one eyebrow and asked of Skinner, "Sir?"

"I'm afraid it's true. But we can tell you about it later."

Scully kicked back into Fed-mode quickly. "Right. Krycek's here."

"Here? Where?" Holly asked.

"My Guest Room. He's got pneumonia."

"What is it you have there?" Fox asked of the items Walter and Holly held.

"Hold on to your shapeshifters, guys." Holly smiled broadly and held the dusty diary out at arm's length. "This piece of work is none other than the instrument by which the Consortium shall once and for all be silenced."

Walter groaned at her theatrics as he deposited his load of paperwork onto the kitchen table. Scully took the book from her hand and opened it.

"It's Well-Manicured Man's diary," Holly explained.

"WHAT?!?!" Fox and Dana screeched as they tore through the pages excitedly.

"What does it reveal?" Mulder asked.

"Everything," Walter replied. "I had no idea..." he trailed off as Holly placed a reassuring hand on his arm. He looked down at her, staring into her eyes in earnest. She returned his gaze and smiled, a smile soon imitated by Walter.

Despite their excitement over the diary, the gestures were not lost on Mulder and Scully, who hadn't really stopped to think what exactly the formerly dead duo had been up to while in hiding.

"We've got to get this to Rona," Mulder said.

"Has Krycek agreed to testify?" Walter asked.

"He hasn't been coherent enough to ask," Scully replied.

"I wonder if I can make him well enough to help you," Holly mused as she walked into the Guest Bedroom.

"You said AD Skinner had to trust you. How can you get a guy like Krycek to do that? Especially when he's as nutty as a fruitcake right now?" Mulder asked as they followed her.

"I don't know. Perhaps..." Holly looked at Alex who lay on the bed sweating profusely. Scully mopped his brow and face with a damp cloth. Ray then placed her hands on Krycek's temples and closed her eyes. In her mind, she saw him standing before her in a place completely devoid of light, yet she could see him clearly. "Alex," she said.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"I am Holly Ray. I wish to help you. You are very sick. I can heal you."

"How?"

"That is not important. Do you wish to be healthy?"

"Yes, of course I do. I don't want to die."

"I know you don't, Alex. It's okay. I can help you. But only if you trust me."

"I trust no one."

"Then I cannot be of assistance."

Holly felt Alex's image fading until he called out, "Wait!" Then he came back into full view.

"What?"

"If I say I trust you, will you make me better?"

"You must also feel it, Alex."

"Wait, I know you. You were here the night I killed Skinner. I killed you too! I'm dead, aren't I?"

"No. I did not die that night. Neither did Skinner. You are not dead now. Alex, I haven't much time. Do you trust me?"

He hesitated, and Holly felt herself pull away from him once more.

"Wait! I just don't know how I can! I've never been able to trust anybody! How can I?"

Holly had returned to him, and just smiled. "You have it within you. Alex, you are not a bad man. You have only been caught in the web of lies, and you have not fared as well as others. Now is your chance to save yourself."

"I'm not sure I can handle it. How do I trust someone I don't even know?"

"Think with your heart, Alex, not your diseased mind. Feel what emanates from me. I harbor no ill will, no feelings of hatred. Can you feel my good will?"

"I—I don't know. God, I don't know!"

"Stay calm, please. Close your eyes. You must help us, it is the only way to save yourself. These are good people and they will help you, despite your past transgressions. Feel it. Feel me. Do you believe?"

"Yes. I think...I think so."

"Concentrate, Alex. Trust me to make you well. Trust Mulder, Scully and Skinner not to harm you. Trust that you can be a good man. Trust that you can change. Can you feel this?"

"Yes, I believe you. I trust you! I place my life in your hands! Please, don't leave me!"

"I feel your trust, Alex. Good. I will go back now. I will make you whole again."

And suddenly Holly was back in the bedroom, her three friends staring at her. She ran her hands over Alex's face first. "Stand back, please," she whispered.

They did as requested. Holly's hands flowed smoothly over Alex's neck, his chest, his stomach, straight down to his toes. Then she placed her hands on his head again, and a white glow surrounded them.

"Alex," she spoke aloud. "Do you trust me?"

To everyone's surprise, Alex Krycek whispered, "Yes."

"Then feel my hands. Concentrate on them and tell me what you feel."

"Hot. Cold. Tingly," he croaked.

"Good, good. Relax," she cooed.

The light which had begun to form around them became brighter and brighter until the trio had to shield their eyes. Then they heard a loud CRACK! followed by a thud. And the light was gone. They opened their eyes to find Krycek struggling to sit up and Holly on the floor against the opposite wall in a heap.

Walter and Dana ran to Holly, the former picking her up and gently taking her to Dana's bed.

Mulder kept an eye on Krycek, who was looking wildly about him. "What the—? Who was that woman? Where—?"

"Calm down, Krycek. You're at Scully's. You've been here before. Twice."

"Who is Holly Ray?"

"I'll explain later. We need to talk."

As Mulder explained the current state of affairs, Scully checked Holly's vital signs while Walter paced nervously beside the bed. "It looks the same as the last time. She's just unconscious." Noticing Skinner's discomfort, she added, "Sir, she'll be fine. Would you stay here with her while I check on Krycek?"

He nodded, seating himself on the bed next to Holly. As Scully exited the room, she caught a glimpse of Walter grasping Holly's hand.

Mulder had quickly outlined the situation for Alex, as well as the role they wanted him to play.

Krycek thought for a long while. He looked at Dana curiously as she removed his IV, took his temperature, checked his vitals. "I'll help you. I'll do what you want. But only if Holly Ray says I should."

"Why would that make any difference?" Mulder asked.

"Because she's the only one I trust."

"The fact that I didn't blow your brains out on sight should give you cause to trust me as well," Scully seethed.

"Why didn't you?" he sneered.

"Because for once in your life you're actually good for something, asshole," Mulder replied angrily. "Get dressed. We're going for a little ride."

"Where is Holly Ray?" Alex practically bellowed.

"I am here, Alex."

The agents turned to see a weakly smiling Holly in the doorway, being held up by Skinner.

"Should I help them? Should I testify?" he asked as a child begs permission to join his friends in play.

She nodded. "You must."

He turned to look Fox dead in the eye. "Then I will."

"Alex, why do you ask me if you should do this?"

"I trust only you."

"But why?"

"You tell me. You're the one who made me do it."

Everyone noticed Krycek had softened considerably since Holly's appearance.

"I understand," Holly said. "Can you go without me?" she asked of the others. "I'm so very tired." As she said this, Holly fell back into Walter, who lifted her tenderly into his arms. "I'm...just...so...tired. He was...more difficult than...you were,...Walter."

"Yes. You will remain here," Walter assured her as he took her back to Dana's bed.

"I'll get one of the guys over here to keep an eye on her," Mulder offered.

"Get them all," Scully said. "I'll be damned if I let any of Them get to her."

Mulder nodded as he dialed and left the room. Scully followed him out while Alex dressed in silence. Poor Alex was so confused by what had happened. Why did he so completely trust that Ray woman? He couldn't figure it out for the life of him. He only knew that he did. And it made him crazy.

Once in her kitchen, Scully dialed AD Thomas' office and was informed he was in a meeting. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully," she informed the secretary impatiently. "He's waiting for me. Interrupt the damn meeting."

A few minutes later, Scully was patched through to the conference room on the first floor of the J. Edgar Hoover building. "Thomas."

"This is Special Agent Scully, Sir."

"Where are you and Agent Mulder?"

"My apartment. Sir, we need a heavy guard sent here right away. We have two people to bring in who need to be protected."

"Do you have enough for us to prosecute these men?" Jane Rona's voice.

"Yes, Ma'am. More than enough."

Scully heard hushed conversation, then, "Your protection is on its way. I'll have the PD block off your street in both directions and assist."

"Thank you, Sir," Scully said as she hung up.

Mulder came into the kitchen. "The guys are on their way. They've agreed to stay with Holly. Scully, why don't we get some of those agents to stay here as well?"

"No, Mulder. We can't draw her into this any further. Although she would be able to provide further credibility to our story, you know very well what our government does with...special people."

Mulder nodded as Skinner strode into the kitchen. "She's sleeping."

"We've got FBI and PD coming, Sir," Scully informed him. "We don't know who's still out there. You and Krycek need protection."

"I'd wager a guess you two are still pretty high on someone's shit list too," Krycek said as he joined the threesome.

They tensed at his entrance, but he put up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, people, I'm caught, remember?" After a slight pause and furrowing of his brow, he asked, "Where is Holly Ray?"

After exchanging quick glances with his two former subordinates, Walter said, "Come with me," and led Alex to Dana's bedroom.

Mulder and Scully followed them in. They were all surprised when Alex dropped to his knees beside the bed and grasped one of Holly's hands in his own. He began weeping openly. "Damn you for making me trust you. I don't know how to be a good guy."

Holly's eyes fluttered open as Alex spoke. "I didn't make you, Alex. You wanted and needed to trust. And it just happened to be me."

"Who are you?" Krycek asked, trying to regain his composure. "Who are you that you can save me so?"

"I healed only your physical discomfiture, Alex."

"No. You're wrong. You made me trust you, dammit! Why did you do that to me?"

Holly did not understand why the recently cured man was so upset by her having gained his complete trust. "You will save yourself, Alex. You have it within your power to help save us all. To atone for your sins. To cleanse your soul. To put an end to the Evil." Here she paused dramatically. "Help your brother. Do not fight him."

Mulder gasped softly. Scully placed a hand on his arm.

"You believe he's my brother?" Krycek asked, craning his neck around to see Fox's impassive face.

"I know he is. You and Mulder share the same father, but have different mothers. Alex, your own mother raised you, as Mulder's raised him."

"Is it—?" Fox couldn't complete the question which burned his very soul.

Holly turned a sad face to the man who looked as though he may break at any moment. "Yes. The Cigarette Smoking Man is your father as well as Alex's. You are half-brothers. Iitiayli affirmed this, although I pretty much knew back in my reality."

"Jesus Christ," Fox muttered. Dana searched his face for some flicker of emotion, but found nothing but stoic coolness.

Holly sat up in bed, Alex's hands still grasping hers. "I'm so sorry, Mulder. I wanted to tell you in a different setting. Not like this."

Fox just shook his head slowly. Well, at least there was some movement from him. "More lies," he spat through clenched teeth. "More deceit."

The knock at the front door broke the moment, and Scully was soon ushering The Lone Gunmen into the room. Then, another knock.

"Cavalry must be here," Mulder muttered, following Scully to the door.

Chaos soon ensued. Plans were made for transport to the Hoover building. Dana's street was blocked off in both directions. Four agents and two squad cars were to remain at the apartment for a short time just in case anyone tried anything after the foursome had left. Skinner, Mulder, Krycek and Scully were to leave one at a time surrounded by cops and agents.

Walter stole into Scully's bedroom as the others regrouped in her living room. Holly lay there on the bed, eyes closed.

"Holly, I..." he began, seating himself on the edge of the bed.

She opened her eyes. "Walter, it's okay. Your lives are changing now. Drastically. None of you will ever be the same." She took his hand in her two and looked into his eyes. Deep chocolate eyes.

"And you'll be here when it's all over. Won't you?" he asked softly.

"I don't know why not." She smiled. "Don't worry, I'm fine here. I've got The Lone Gunmen after all." The smile turned to giggles at that statement. "You have more important things to worry about and concentrate on."

Walter nodded slowly. He brought his trembling hand up to caress her face. "I wouldn't say this is more important than you..."

Mulder entered the bedroom, mildly surprised at the scene before him. He hated to interrupt, but duty was calling. "Sir?"

Walter turned to look at him. Mulder saw the unshed tears in his former boss' eyes. "I'm sorry. It's time to go."

Skinner turned back to Holly, removing his hand from her face. "Thank you."

"Knock 'em dead, killer!" she laughed. "I'll be fine." She then said more softly.

Scully's neighbors would be talking about this one for years to come. Each of the four "witnesses" left one by one as planned, surrounded by a circle of agents and policemen. Each was placed in a separate limousine. First came Krycek, who was also handcuffed. Then Scully. Then Skinner. And finally Mulder.

Byers, Frohike and Langly brought chairs into the room where Holly rested. She felt better now, but was still very tired, and drifted off to sleep, marveling at all which had happened to her over the last two months. The Lone Gunmen sat and watched over her in silence, wondering not only about her, but about how the world was soon to change.

Langly saw Holly's face contort briefly in seeming pain and whispered, "It has begun."

The conference room on the first floor of the J. Edgar Hoover building today held four very important American citizens: the Director and Assistant Director of the FBI, Attorney General Jane Rona and the President of the United States. They had reviewed quite a bit of the audio and video tapes provided by Frohike, and were deep in the throes of heavy discussion regarding what they'd heard and seen. A soft knock on the door quieted the group.

"Come in," Director Agnos called.

All heads turned as Fox Mulder and Dana Scully entered the room, flanking a very humble-looking Alex Krycek.

"Mr. President, Madam Attorney General, Mr. Director, Mr. Assistant Director, may I present Alex Krycek," Scully said, her gaze cool and commanding.

"The Alex Krycek?" Director Agnos asked incredulously.

"Yes, sir, one and the same," Mulder answered.

Scully half-turned toward the door, and, fixing her gaze on the Director's face, said, "And I believe this gentleman needs no introduction."

"Sweet Jesus!" Agnos exclaimed as he rose to his feet.

For a very living, breathing Walter Skinner glided through the door, arms crossed sternly over his chest, face a mask to rival that of a stone. He nodded in deference to their presence, but said nothing. The four newcomers seated themselves at the table as Agnos sank back into his chair, staring at Skinner like he'd just seen Christ rise from the dead.

Scully placed the Well-Manicured Man's diary on the table and pushed it towards AD Thomas. "This journal belonged to a now-deceased elder of the Consortium, the rest of whom are currently being held in your custody. It details much of the Project with which they have been involved for over fifty years. In this book alone, there is sufficient evidence to convict these men of serious crimes."

Fox picked up her train of thought. "However, we also have Alex Krycek and Walter Skinner who have agreed to testify against one or more of these men to add weight to the claims made in the journal. We have successfully destroyed a secret testing site in Foum Tataouine, Tunisia and are prepared to offer a vast amount of physical evidence from the remains as to the nature of that experiment, which was also initiated by the Consortium. In essence, the experiment was designed to artificially create a viable medium for transmittal of a deadly extraterrestrial virus upon the people of Earth."

Dana continued. "Agent Mulder and I have had many run-ins with these men and are fully willing to comply with anything you may require of us. The men of the Consortium have committed heinous crimes against humanity in the name of alien colonization of our planet. They were secretly negotiating with an extraterrestrial race to save themselves and promote the destruction of the human race. Information regarding alien life has been conspiratorially denied and hidden from the world, due in large part to Consortium propagation."

Mulder could hardly believe his ears. Here sat his logical, skeptical partner, basically saying things she'd always refused to believe in. He looked at her almost lovingly as she finished speaking, a look she caught and returned.

President Chase was the first of the bureaucrats to speak. "Are you expecting us to put well-respected businessmen on trial and public display for charges dealing with....aliens?"

"Sir," Scully said, her gaze steady, "no one in this room could be considered more of a skeptic than I. The things I have seen since being assigned to the X-Files Division have more often than not defied scientific explanation. Yet I still refused to believe in extraterrestrial life. But sir, I have myself been held captive aboard an extraterrestrial craft. I have been subjected to their experiments. I have seen and fallen victim to an Evil greater than any of us can fully conceive of. As a scientist, I cannot dismiss the data which lies before us now. As a human being, I cannot dismiss the genuine threat to our very existence."

Still in awe of Scully's words, Mulder added, "Mr. President, if you will avail yourself of the evidence we have gathered and the firsthand accounts of this Project, I believe you, too, will come to see the truth in our words. This is not a joke."

The President nodded silently and sat considering all he had heard. He looked into the eyes of every person seated at the table as his mind toiled at a solution. Suddenly he spoke. "I want every shred of physical evidence delivered to your best labs for thorough testing, analysis and identification. Mr. Krycek and Mr. Skinner are to make their statements directly to Director Agnos. Special Agents Mulder and Scully, you are to make your statements to Assistant Director Thomas posthaste, then make yourself available continuously to anyone requiring your assistance. I will see to it the men you have had arrested are under no circumstances released from custody." He paused, glaring first at Fox, then at Dana. "It is only the vindication with which you speak that allows me to pursue this matter. If I am not convinced of the validity of your claims, there will be hell to pay."

"Yes, sir," the two agents responded confidently.

"I must also insist that you be kept under protective custody, Mr. Skinner. You shall be kept at a safehouse. And you, Mr. Krycek, will be kept in a secure holding facility. I am very well aware of your history. As witnesses to something this large-scale, I can only guess at your level of safety."

Walter's throat tightened. He didn't, he suddenly realized, want to be away from Holly.

Dana watched her former boss' facial expressions and, for some reason, understood. They had all wanted to keep Holly out of this whole mess. The powers she had gained from Iitiayli alone would make her a prime lab rat if and when that story got out. Not to mention that it was one thing making people believe in aliens and a completely different thing getting people to believe in alternate realities. No, for Holly's sake, Dana would not mention her to anyone.

"You will be taken to the safehouse after your deposition has been taken," AD Thomas said to Skinner. "Agents Mulder and Scully, might I suggest that your safety, too, is questionable?"

Scully knew he was right. Sure, they had the heads of the Consortium, but the fingers of that terrible entity spread far and wide, and who knew what dangers still lay ahead? "Yes, sir. I believe that to be a safe assumption." She looked at her partner, who had a sudden interest in his hands.

"Agent Mulder?" Thomas prodded.

His only response was a silent nod. Dana wondered what was troubling him so.

"Very well. Let's get going," the President ordered.

Everyone left but Walter and Dana. Krycek was led out in handcuffs, a blank stare upon his face. Mulder followed Thomas to his office, dreading having to relive every terrible Syndicate-related incident of the last six years.

Walter sat staring into nothingness, frightened of the confession he was soon to make. His role in the Consortium's little game still galled him, even though Holly had tried to convince him it wasn't his fault. Would the President see it that way? Would Skinner get off scot-free? Or would he, like Alex Krycek, be punished for his crimes by the law he'd sworn to uphold? And once all these wounds were freshly opened, how could he ever face Mulder and Scully again? How could he ever face his Holly? His Holly? Since when had he thought of her as his? He shook his head in sorrow as his mind raced. What was happening now was something he'd wished for a thousand times over: the demise of that blasted Syndicate. Yet he felt no joy at this moment. Only sorrow for his past deeds and for the aching emptiness he felt in his heart. He wondered if he'd ever see Holly again. He wondered if she even cared like he did. Or had he just been a fool all along? He'd pretty much convinced himself he was doomed, never to see his precious Holly—or his freedom—ever again when Dana's voice broke the silence.

"Sir?"

"I'm not your superior anymore, Agent Scully, call me Walter."

Somewhat taken aback, Scully tried it out. "Okay...Walter. Wow, that sounds strange."

"I imagine it does. I hate my name."

"You do? Why?"

"I always have. There is someone who can make it sound like a waterfall in a remote forest somewhere, tripping lightly over rocks and leaves as it falls from her lips. But now it only serves to make me feel like an old man."

Scully marveled at his poetic words. "You're worried about Ray, aren't you?" she asked softly. She wasn't quite certain how far she could go with him on personal issues, and bit her lower lip waiting for a response.

For once in his life, Walter decided to let someone in on the jumbled mess that were his thoughts. All that time in the cottage with Holly, and all he put into words for her were his guilt and anger—he'd never shared his thoughts completely. Now he felt the need for a release, and poor Dana Scully was the lucky one to get dumped on. Well, she had asked, after all.

Concentrating on a point somewhere on the far wall, Walter clasped his hands together and began to speak softly. "Unfortunately, my answer to that is no. Selfishly, I'm worried about me more than her. I'm worried about how I could possibly live without her around. About what will happen to me if I never see her face again. Our time in the cottage gave me a false sense of security. If I tried, I could at times forget why we were really there, and sort of...pretend that it was normal. Holly is very special. I thought at first that the warmth I felt in my heart was merely gratitude for her having saved my life. But one night I snapped and we were yelling at each other, and she made me see that she really cared about me. Not just because I was your boss, but because of me. Who I am."

He paused, clasping and unclasping his hands, his face a stark mirror of the emotions running through him like wildfire. It rather spooked Dana to see him with his composure so clearly gone.

"And I felt that moment we shared when she healed me was so very special. It was like she melded with me, like we became one. I could actually feel her within me, like a whisper caressing every cell inside me, invading every available space within my body. I felt her there as surely as I can feel this table under my hand. It was something I thought no one else would ever share with her."

It dawned on Scully what he was talking about. "And then she healed Krycek."

He nodded. "I know her reasons for doing so, and it only makes me admire her more. To so selflessly put herself in that type of position again for the greater good of people who are not even her own boggles my mind. And for Alex Krycek, of all people, to be the recipient just galls me. In that moment I felt we'd lost something. In your apartment, right before she began healing me, she asked me to trust her. And I did so willingly, easily, placing my full trust in someone I had only just met. At the time I didn't understand why. Actually, truth be told, I still don't really understand why I gave myself over to her so completely. I only know, or think I know, that it wasn't wrong. But then she got inside Krycek's head and got him to trust her, too. I never thought I'd see the day when that man trusted anyone. I actually felt jealous. But then I got mad at myself for it. We didn't do anything at the cottage, if you know what I mean. I have no right to feel the way I do. But then when the President told me I'd be put in a safehouse, I panicked. I really panicked. And I realized that she'd....that I'd...." he trailed off, eyes becoming teary.

"Fallen in love with her?" Scully finished softly. Her heart went out to this man. Not just any man, she reminded herself, this was Skinner. Walter, she corrected mentally. This man whom she had, more times than she liked to recall, hated with every fiber of her being. At times she'd felt utterly betrayed by him, and had made no bones about telling him as much. She'd resented him and his liaison with Cancer Man, and had only recently come to feel him worthy of her trust. How very selfish she had been not to see through her own insecurities to the very real man that lay beneath his cool exterior. If he had ever hurt them, she knew it had never been intentional, and that he had done much to aid her and Mulder in their quest for the Truth.

He could only nod as he covered his face with his hands. "She understands, Agent Scully. She completely and unjudgingly understands the decisions I have made, the position I've been forced into. All of it. I've never before felt so unconditionally accepted. We've had no conversations regarding more...intimate feelings, but at the cottage it didn't seem necessary." Raising his head to look at her, he added, "I guess it was kind of like you and Agent Mulder. We shared a few moments, you know, but said very little."

"I understand that type of relationship," Scully smiled slightly.

"I know you do. But maybe I was wrong. It's been so long since anyone has cared like that, and I've never been so understood and trusted. But maybe I was misinterpreting her overtures. Agent Scully, what if I was wrong?"

"Okay, first things first. If you're Walter, then I'm Dana." She smiled. It felt good to listen to someone else's emotional turmoil for a change of pace.

He actually smiled. For some reason which Dana knew she'd analyze later, a gentle warmth filled her being. She knew that feeling. It almost overwhelmed her. Love. A connection. The type of love she hadn't felt since Ahab's death. She'd never quite realized that over her years as Fox Mulder's partner, not only had that relationship changed and evolved, but so had her relationship with Walter. She saw him now as a sort of guardian over her, and in her mind she clearly visualized the role he had taken in her life. Yes, he was her boss. Well, used to be and would soon be again, she was certain. But he'd become her protector, too, with her kicking and screaming all the way. A man she looked up to. And, more recently, a man she'd come to respect and trust.

"Okay, Dana it is," Walter said, breaking her reverie.

She surprised him by smiling and standing. He watched as she slowly approached him and placed her two ivory white hands over his two darker ones. He could only stare at her, wondering what she was doing. She was the least demonstrative person he'd ever known. Well, except for maybe Mulder and himself. This was so unlike her. Then again, the way he'd just acted was so unlike him. Things were most definitely changing. "Dana?"

"Walter," she responded softly. "Once this is all over, once we've gotten these men behind bars forever, our lives will all be different."

He nodded. "Holly said the same thing."

"I've come to know Ray quite well since our first meeting in her reality. I knew she'd gotten under your skin that night in her hospital room when you agreed to visit her once a week."

They both chuckled, and Walter blushed.

"But I also knew she liked you from the get-go. The look in her eyes, the way she speaks to you. I can tell she reciprocates your feelings. I've not had time to speak to her about it, and am therefore uncertain as to the extent of her feelings for you. But they do exist. As one woman reading another woman's signals, I just know. Plus I feel it. Whatever you two experienced at your safehouse, and whatever you experienced aboard your alien craft, it has made you very close."

"And now we're to be separated," Walter stated simply, shoulders visibly slumping. "I guess I've just been with her on such a constant basis...Dana, it actually aches when I think I may not see her again for a long time." His already full eyes finally began to spill over, but he suddenly found he didn't care. "It hurts, Dana."

With all the conviction of a small child who has just scraped his knee or bruised his elbow, who is seeking his mother's healing kisses and curative touch, Walter had broken down to the very basest of human emotion with those final three words. It hurts, Mommy, make it go away. Make it stop, Mommy.

In a very motherly way, Dana Scully did something she'd never envisioned: she grabbed her ex-boss by his large shoulders and pulled him into her chest as his tears continued. She rubbed his shoulders with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. "She'll be there when you return," she murmured.

"We don't know that. She could disappear as quickly as she appeared with you."

Scully knew he was right. He was simply voicing the same concerns which had plagued her since she and Ray had returned to this reality.

"And if she does, I won't be able to tell her. I won't be able to find out how she felt about me."

Scully set her jaw firmly, determination pursing her lips into a straight line. "We'll find a way. Leave it to Mulder, me and The Lone Gunmen. I don't very much like the prospect of leaving her without at least one of us around. I want to see her, too."

"You won't—?"

"No, I won't tell anyone," Scully assured him. "You can trust me to keep my mouth shut."

Tears having ebbed, Walter pulled himself away from what he realized was the soft mound of Dana Scully's breasts. "I'm so embarrassed," he said, averting his eyes from those of the young woman with such inner strength.

"Don't be. None of us express ourselves like we should. I promised Ray some time ago that Mulder and I would have a talk, but we never did. Neither one of us knows how to open up. I think all of us are too frightened."

"Of what?"

"Love," she sighed. "Happiness. Vulnerability."

He nodded as he used his handkerchief to wipe his face. "Thank you," he said. "I needed that."

"I know. It's okay. We'll find a way, Walter, I promise."

At that moment, the door of the conference room opened to reveal a slightly distressed-looking Mulder. He walked in, shutting the door behind him a little harder than necessary. The close proximity of Skinner and Scully combined with Skinner's bloodshot eyes told him something had happened, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He felt damned uncomfortable, though.

"You couldn't possibly have finished your statement."

Mulder shook his head. "No, Scully, I didn't. We got through maybe ten pages or so. They feel it would go better if you and I give our information on tape, which they'll transcribe, and then call on us for any points of clarification."

"Why would they do that?" Skinner asked, very ashamed by his appearance.

"I think they somehow got the impression that I was less than thrilled to be facing so many hours under their slow, torturous procedures. I was getting fidgety. They're just so damned slow, I had to keep backtracking and I may have gotten a bit...grumpy."

"You, Mulder? Grumpy? Naaaah," Scully smiled.

Teeth? Since when did his partner show him teeth? He grinned back sheepishly. "I think I persuaded the Director to let the three of us stay together."

Walter raised his eyebrows, mirroring Scully's typical response. "Really?" Why would Mulder do that?

"Yes. Logistically speaking, we should probably be separated. Us being together only increases our chances of being killed."

"All in one place," Scully whispered.

"But to hell with logistics. As you said not so long ago, Scully, I'm way past the point of common sense here. I don't know Ray as well as the two of you, but I seem to have gotten this feeling from her that we should stick together."

"I don't understand. What's Holly got to do with us staying together?" Walter asked.

Finally giving in, Mulder replied, "I must've zoned out at one point during my deposition. I could have sworn I heard Ray's voice telling me not to let them separate the three of us. I know this sounds like one of my more off-the-wall theories, but she was so insistent, and I could actually hear her. I even looked around the room, expecting to find her standing there. I can't explain it further." Finishing his monologue, Mulder sank into a nearby chair.

Scully left her position in front of Walter and went to stand behind Mulder, placing her hands on his shoulders. He stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such a thing. But as she gently massaged his neck and shoulders, he relaxed visibly. "Mulder, what you're saying is not so strange. We know Ray has abilities beyond those of most humans, and beyond our comprehension. Perhaps she really did come to visit you in her own way. Given everything else that's happened, I find that not without the realm of possibility."

"Scully, if you keep this up, I'm not going to be able to call you a skeptic anymore. You're throwing me off-balance here," Fox quipped, grateful for the magic her hands were working on his way-too-tense muscles.

They were startled by Skinner's laughter as he stood and stretched his formidable frame. After that good cry on poor Scully, he felt years younger and several pounds lighter. The proverbial weight had begun to lift from him. "That's what I like about you two: never a dull moment."

Fox looked up and caught his partner's eye. He wanted to know what had transpired before his entrance. Her look told him something had changed, and that a lot more was in store. He sighed. Scully had ceased her massaging activities, but left her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm going to find the bathroom and then find the Director," Skinner said, striding to the door. There was hardly a trace of the broken mass of a man Scully had just borne witness to. He turned to look at the two people who had been his favorite agents while he was AD and said, "Thank you, Dana."

Fox raised his eyebrows at his use of Scully's first name.

"Anytime, Walter. We'll figure something out," came Scully's soft reply.

Fox's eyebrows went higher. Scully seated herself in the chair next to him, turning it to face him head-on. He, in turn, swiveled to face her. "Walter?" he asked.

"He figured since he's not our boss anymore I should call him Walter instead of Sir. I therefore insisted he call me Dana."

"Okay. Is he....all right?"

"I think so. He just needed an ear."

"And a shirt," Mulder commented, pointing to her tear-soaked silk blouse.

"Yes, that too."

"Scully—" "Mulder—" they said in unison.

"God, this is all happening so fast," Fox breathed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," Dana responded. She took one of his hands in each of her own.

Fox looked up into her eyes and was shocked at what he saw. The mask was gone. Her eyes betrayed her before she could even open her mouth. He squeezed her hands and all at once his internal walls came tumbling down, revealing his own true feelings. With a small cry of surprise and a shudder of disbelief at what his eyes revealed to her, Dana launched herself into his arms, unable to quelch the flow of tears which came at rapid-fire pace. Her whole tiny body shook as sobs racked her from head to toe.

At first completely taken aback by her uncharacteristic display, Fox couldn't keep himself from breaking down as well. Everything came out in the form of crocodile-sized tears. His horrific childhood, the Consortium, Samantha, all that had happened to him and those he loved, and most of all, the unspeakable love he felt for this woman he now held so tightly against him. Holy shit. He'd never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Holy shit. So he cried. Tears of pain, tears of joy. For he'd seen it in her eyes. He'd gotten the tiniest glimpse of it that fateful night in his apartment building hallway, but he'd just now received the full view of what was hidden under the layers which composed Dana Scully's exterior. It scared the hell out of him. And made his heart overflow. Holy shit. She loved him back. Between sobs, he finally managed to choke out the words he'd wanted to say to her that night, but had never been able to.

"I...love...you,...Scully."

She stopped crying instantly and drew back to look into his eyes. Shit, had he said the wrong thing? Should he not have vocalized his feelings so quickly? Quickly? Hello, it's been like, six years.

"Oh, Mulder," she gasped between sharp intakes of breath. "I—I love you so much!"

She was now sitting on his lap, and they clung to one another for dear life, taking comfort in their confessions. Love. Given. Received. Welcomed most furiously. How had they come to this? When had it happened? Slowly. The culmination of a painstaking buildup of trust and respect. Brick by brick they'd built that mutual love. And brick by brick they'd each stripped away the other's wall of defense. Finally.

Mulder cupped her chin with his hand and drew her face to his. The last time he'd tried this, she'd been stung by that godforsaken bee. No bees. Not this time. Their lips touched ever so softly, so carefully, so frightened were they both. A chaste kiss by most standards, but for these two it may as well have been a full-blown orgy for the importance of it. It signified the crossing of a line drawn for them long before they'd ever met, a line neither could have foreseen being crossed, yet here they were toeing carefully over it, across it, around it and through it. Ever so carefully. Could it work? This intense feeling, that which had invaded their souls for so long, could it be completed without regret? Without retribution? Without fear of failure?

There was a knock at the door. Skinner entered, shutting the door behind him. He saw their tearstained cheeks, their puffy red eyes, and their completely calm demeanors. It was fairly obvious to him that something had happened here, and he thought he knew what. Now, if only he could get to this point with Holly...

Fox was so embarrassed that he kept his face turned towards Scully. He didn't want his former boss seeing him like this. It's a man thing. He stiffened as, to his surprise, Skinner came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Time to go, kids. They're going to take my statement the same way they're taking yours. For now, they want to get us to a safehouse."

"Oh!" Dana gasped, jumping to her feet. "I have to call Ray first! Walter, do you know where they're taking us?"

"No, I don't. I couldn't get it out of Agnos."

"Damn," she swore, crossing to the phone. She quickly dialed her own phone number. It rang three times before someone picked up.

"H-hello?"

"Byers, is that you?"

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes."

"Hi. Yes, this is Byers."

"How's Holly?"

"She's sleeping."

"Are the law enforcement personnel still there?"

"No. The dogs were called off about 1/2 an hour after you all left. We told them Ms. Ray is a friend of yours from college who was visiting at the time this all went down."

"Okay. Listen to me. They're taking us to a safehouse, but we don't know the location. We need to see Holly tonight. Can you get here fast enough to tail us?"

"No need, Agent Scully."

"What? Why not?"

"We planted a tracking device in Mulder's coat pocket. We can find him no matter where he is."

Dana shook her head in disbelief. "I'll be damned. I owe you guys. Bigtime."

"No problem. It's a byproduct of paranoia. Are you leaving now?"

"Shortly."

"Okay. We'll take Ms. Ray to our place and track Mulder from there. Once we get a solid fix, we'll call his cellphone to make arrangements. Is that satisfactory?"

"Byers, you're a god!"

He chuckled. "And you're a goddess. Goodbye."

"Bye." She smiled as they hung up. She relayed Byers' words to Skinner and Mulder.

Fox let out a low whistle. "Ya gotta love the guys."

"I must say, I'm certainly developing a new sort of respect for them, especially after all they've done to help you bring this plan to fruition," Skinner commented.

There was a knock at the door, and six trenchcoat-clad agents appeared. "Mr. Skinner, Special Agent Mulder, Special Agent Scully, we are here to escort you."

The three sighed as one and followed the agents out.

Holly awoke slowly. She felt someone gently shaking her shoulder and soon identified the owner of the hand as Langly, arguably her favorite one of the three misfits. "You have to wake up," he was saying in that nasal voice of his.

"Why? What's going on?" she asked groggily.

"They're taking Mulder, Agent Scully and Mr. Skinner to a safehouse. We have to get to our place to track them."

"Track them?" Holly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Yes," Byers stepped forward. "I planted a tracking device in Mulder's coat so we could keep tabs on him. Agent Scully phoned from the Bureau and insisted they needed to see you tonight. Once we identify their location, I'm going to call Mulder's cellphone and arrange to get you all together."

"Oh," Holly replied, now standing. "Then let's get a move on!"

In the headquarters of The Lone Gunmen, the foursome sat watching the movement of the tracking device on a computer screen for over an hour.

"Gee, they're really takin' 'em for a ride," Frohike, arguably Holly's least favorite of the three, commented.

"You guys have any sunflower seeds?" Holly queried.

"Yeah, we keep a stash for Mulder," Frohike answered, rising to get a bag from a corner filing cabinet. "You're not into these things too, are you?"

"Oh, I like them all right, but I want to take them to Mulder."

Byers laughed. Then his face became serious. "Hey, I think they've reached Point B," he said, staring intently at the computer screen.

A few dozen keystrokes and map marks later, and TLG and Holly were moving toward the safehouse. Byers dialed Mulder's cellphone as Frohike drove. Langly and Holly sat in the back of the van, successfully emptying the bag of sunflower seeds originally intended for Mulder.

"Mulder."

"Alone?" Byers asked.

"S & S."

"Fix."

"Time?"

"60."

"100 W. Wait."

"Goodbye." And with that, Byers hit the 'End' button and turned to his comrades. "Okay, folks, we're to take up position 100 yards west of the safehouse and wait."

"Got'cha," Langly answered as Frohike and Holly nodded in understanding.

After about twenty minutes of silence, Holly said, "You guys, I really want to thank you. You've done so much for Mulder and Scully over the years, and now you're helping me, too. How can I ever repay you?"

Without hesitation, Frohike answered, "By helping us get rid of the conspirators and the aliens."

"You've got yourselves a deal, boys. I love you guys."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Holly," Langly smiled that crooked smile of his. Frohike and Byers nodded in agreement.

They arrived at the location identified on their printouts about 58 minutes later. They gauged a 100-yard distance west of the safehouse where they found a clearing in the middle of a forest. There seemed to be no other nearby structures. At Holly's insistence, TLG remained in their van monitoring the bug they'd placed in her pocket while she hid at the edge of the clearing.

She soon heard several footsteps approaching from the East and crouched low to the ground, holding her breath. Skinner, Mulder and Scully soon emerged from the woods.

"Do you think they misunderstood?" Scully asked. "You were kind of cryptic."

"No, Byers understood," Mulder replied.

Holly stood and walked into the clearing. "Hello, people," she smiled broadly.

"There you are!" Scully exclaimed, running to hug her friend.

"Hi, Doc! Geez, it's only been a few hours!" she laughed.

Fox and Skinner walked over to them.

"How'd you get out?" Holly asked, accepting Fox's freely given hug.

"Hey, we're FBI!" he joked, causing laughter all around. "Where are the Gunmen?"

Holly pointed toward his left. "Over that way, in their van."

"Hey, Scully, come with me," he said, giving her a meaningful look and grasping her hand. "We've got to check something out with them."

Holly smiled as she noted their intertwined fingers. "It's about time, you two."

They blushed and headed for the van.

I watched them leave, then turned to face Walter, who had yet to speak. I was so happy to see him that I lost all abandon and threw my arms around him. I hadn't realized how much I missed him after having spent so much time with him in close quarters. "Walter."

"Holly," he whispered into my hair, wrapping his arms around me. He straightened himself, lifting me off the ground in the process. You gotta love a 6'2" guy.

"How'd it go today?" I asked.

"We're giving our depositions on audio tape to be transcribed later. Reporters were beginning to show up as we left. I think they just wanted us out of there." He gently lowered me back to the ground.

I looked into his eyes, past his glasses, and saw a question. I reached up and removed those glasses. He didn't even flinch, just returned my probing stare. That question burned into my heart, the uncertainty I saw reflected in the deep brown irises touched me so profoundly. I brought my hand to his face and smiled. "Yes," I whispered.

I could see a moment of surprise which soon became a smile, one that I was certain would split his face in two if it kept growing. Well, I couldn't let that happen, could I? So I did the only logical thing under the circumstances. I stretched myself up as high as I could, placing my lips over his. He, of course, had to bend down (me being a good eight inches shorter than he) to make it work. Such a chaste kiss it was. His lips so very soft against mine. Enjoying the feeling of them, a feeling I hadn't known since long before Greg had turned against me. Hell, even that hadn't provoked the myriad of sensations I felt as our lips touched. And to be sharing in this with Walter Skinner, of all people. But I wanted it. I had, I think, realized it at the cottage that night the power went out. But reality had invaded our lives before I ever got the chance to think about it.

Reality. Maybe, if a life with Walter could be reality, I could grow to like that word after all.

Suddenly I felt a presence. Bad. Evil. I jumped out of Walter's embrace, petrified with fear.

"Holly?" he took a step towards me. "I—I'm sorry, Holly. I shouldn't have—"

I held up my hand to quiet him as I looked up into the sky. He followed my gaze and gasped. Just then, Fox and Dana came running into the clearing.

"Do you see it, Scully, do you?!?" Mulder pointed at the object which had captured our collective attention.

"Oh, my God!" Scully gasped. Despite having lived through the episode in Antarctica, Scully had not seen the craft come out of the ground and fly off into the sky as Mulder had. So she was, in fact, witnessing a UFO for the very first time.

"What the—Holly, that's not what Iitiayli's ship looked like," Walter stated.

"It's not his people," I said. "It's the Kum'Cha. They—they're coming to stop us. Oh, God." I was truly frightened. How in blazes could I possibly protect my friends from something that huge? "Iitiayli!" I cried out. "Help us! Iitiayli!"

I somehow took note of the three Lone Gunmen and the six FBI agents entering the clearing from opposite directions, and heard some shouting, although I couldn't make out their words. A green light shot out from the ship, covering the six agents. We all stood transfixed as they floated upwards and into the belly of the craft. At this, the three nerds took off for their van, shouting obscenities all the way, and leaving the four of us alone.

Somehow, as we all craned our necks to look at the ship drawing ever nearer, Mulder, Scully and Skinner wound up standing around me like three endpoints of a triangle. I had to protect them. At first I doubted my ability to do so, but then I just knew I could do it. This is what Iitiayli had spoken of. He said I'd have to save them one more time. I prayed for his strength and guidance and, for reasons still unknown to me, looked into Mulder's eyes and yelled above the humming of the spacecraft, "Fox! Do you trust me?"

He looked at me for a moment, then answered, "Yes."

"Dana! Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Holly!"

I turned to look at Walter. "Walter! Do you trust me?"

There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in his voice as he responded, "I do."

I raised my arms up toward the Kum'Cha ship, and a bright white glow surrounded me. Then pieces of the light zigged outward from my body, one toward each of my friends, encasing them in their own protective sheaths.

I was then bathed in a greenish light which came from the open bottom of the ship. "NO!" I screamed. "You can't have them, too!"

Too? What did I mean by too? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, pictures of things I had never seen, family settings, faces and events I had never been witness to.

I felt myself being pulled upwards into the light. The tendrils attaching me to Mulder, Scully and Walter remained, but I could feel the strain of their presence on my body. I felt like I was being pulled in four different directions. I knew even as I continued rising that I had to keep them surrounded by the white light. It was the only way to keep them safe.

And I was continually bombarded. Mentally, with images, events, facts, voices.

Images of things which seemed to be happening to me as they occurred, but which I could not recall actually having experienced.

Events which had never happened to me as a child, yet I felt as though they were my very own memories.

Facts regarding the Kum'Cha and Iitiayli's people I could never fathom on my own.

Voices from a past I couldn't claim as my own, yet knew with certainty that they were.

And thoughts. But whose?
—Oh, my God, she can't be...no, it's not possible...is it...her?
—Please don't leave me, please don't! I need you, I owe you so much!
—I love her so much, please don't hurt her, please don't let her leave.

In a matter of seconds I knew these thoughts came from Fox, Dana and Walter. I could, amidst all else, read their thoughts. I wondered briefly if they could read mine as well.

I struggled to concentrate on maintaining the protective barriers around each of them. I could feel my mind shutting down, my strength waning. No. If I couldn't continue to protect them, the Kum'Cha would take me and my friends. I had to hold on. Somehow. Then I saw him in my mind: Iitiayli. No, wait, he wasn't in my mind. Not this time. He was above me. Between me and the ship. Floating. He was reaching out to touch me. Gray skin, longish fingers reaching out to me, touching my forehead.

I suddenly felt my mind become clear, my strength renewed. I was still moving upwards, but more slowly. I could feel the ship pulling me from above, and the tethers pulling me from three directions below. The white light surrounding us seemed to grow brighter. The pain. Why couldn't Iitiayli take away the pain?

I saw him look at me, his paper-thin eyelids sliding once over his large black eyes. Although now in a considerable amount of physical pain, I knew my friends would be okay. Through it all I smiled at him. The white light grew brighter yet. He had something in his hand. He looked up into the belly of the ship and stretched his arms upwards, the object in his hands becoming clearer to me. It was the same gray color as his skin, octagonal in shape, with no identifying marks.

I watched in amazement as a very bright white stream of light shot out of the object up into the Kum'Cha ship. What was he doing? Suddenly the ship shuddered above us and I felt myself lowering. Then another bright white stream of light shot out of the object directly into my belly. I could hear myself scream in agony as an inordinate amount of pain wracked my body. All at once I felt as though I'd both burn to a crisp and freeze to death. God, the pain!

The last thing I remember is hearing a CRACK! big enough to be a clap of thunder, reverberating around me, rattling my very bones like a shockwave. Then my world was dark.

The loud CRACK! had served to momentarily deafen and disorient Mulder, Skinner and Scully. They had indeed been privy to Holly's thoughts, and had been able to witness most of what transpired. At the moment of the thunderous sound, the white light which surrounded them had disappeared, the tethers were gone, the Kum'Cha ship was gone, and Iitiayli was gone. It took a few moments for them to adjust to the sudden silence and darkness. It was Fox who first recovered enough to stumble to Holly's side.

She lay on the ground in a heap, barely breathing. "Holly? Holly!" he yelled, turning her over so she lay on her back.

The Lone Gunmen, who had witnessed some of the occurrence from afar, came running towards them.

"Call 911!" Mulder yelled to them. He then turned to smooth Holly's blonde hair from her face. "S-Sam? Is...is that really you?" he whispered, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

Scully and Skinner were soon kneeling with him, the former checking Holly's body for any medical problems. Walter grasped one of Holly's hands and whispered, "Holly, it's Walter. I'm here. You're going to be okay. We're all here with you."

Holly opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by complete blackness, yet still able to see Iitiayli very close to her. She smiled at him. "Am I dead?" she thought.

"No. You are in a coma."

"The things I saw, the things I heard. What were they? Who am I really?"

"You know that now. They were your memories coming back to you. The fight between the gift I gave you and the Kum'Cha effectively reversed the mind-sweeping process you endured so very long ago."

"What you're suggesting isn't possible. I wasn't even in this reality. I grew up in an alternate reality."

"Yes. And no. You see, you once lived in this reality. When you were eight of your years in life, the Kum'Cha took you as part of an agreement with those of Evil from your world. They hurt you very badly and cleared your memory. You were placed in a storage vessel for future use. Unfortunately for them, one of their own, one they called Tak'Cha, rebelled against them and caused the vessel storing you and others to drift in what you refer to as space."

"It was there I found you. The others had perished, but I healed you. Soon after, many Kum'Cha came for us and it became apparent you were quite an important figure to them. The only way we could see to keep you safe from them forever was to place you in an alternate reality, and that is what we did. However, when we placed you there, your double, already existing within that continuum, snapped into this reality. She was captured by the Kum'Cha and believed to be the one they sought. Two of your years ago she was inadvertently killed during one of their harsher experiments, and I knew enough at that time to realize something had to be done to bring you back into the life you should have had. The method we chose, sending Truthseeker Two into your reality, was to enable you to immediately become one of them, the ones you call Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They had to believe in you, and you in them, or all hope would be lost."

"So...it's true, then." Holly began to cry softly. "These memories are real. I—I am Samantha Ann Mulder."

"Yes. You are. I must leave now. I broke the law of our people by appearing on Earth to assist you, and now I must die. But I will do so knowing I have assisted in saving you, your Truthseeking friends and your planet. In time you and they shall discover more of this Truth you seek. Be brave, my child. Be strong. I will always be with you...here." Iitiayli placed his long-fingered hand over her heart.

"I love you, Iitiayli. Thank you."

"If I could feel your emotion of love, it would be strongest for you, my child. Only for you. Good-bye. Do not be sad. Return to them now. Return...return...return..."

Now a full week had passed. The trio had spent most of the time at Holly's bedside. In the interim, they'd given their statements to their fellow FBI agents. Walter, Dana and Fox had gone to visit Krycek in prison, but he'd refused to say anything except that he wanted to see Holly. Mulder promised to bring her as soon as she was well, but Krycek refused to be placated. The doctors could find nothing physically wrong with Holly that would keep her in a coma. So her friends just waited, as difficult as that was for them all. Waited, and spoke very little.

Until one night came when Fox and Dana had left and Walter had taken up his watch at Holly's side. He lowered himself into the ever-present chair next to the bed and grasped her hand. It was then she began to speak. He recognized it as two sides of a conversation, and knew instinctively that Holly was being visited by Iitiayli. She wasn't awake, but her voice was clear, as though conducting a normal, everyday conversation. Walter listened with rapt attention.

He almost stopped breathing when Holly said, "I am Samantha Ann Mulder."

And Iitiayli responded, "Yes."

Walter froze. He barely heard the rest of the words Holly spoke. His mind was reeling. Of all the things he'd been asked to accept, been forced to believe...this was almost impossible. Yet he knew it to be Truth. How many times at the cottage had he subconsciously recorded the similarities between his new love and his favorite rogue agent? Her eyes were the most telling. Always hazel, but at times, depending on her mood and emotions, they would become green or brown or flecked with gold, as he'd seen Mulder's eyes do. For some reason, her lips also reminded him of Mulder, as did her quirky sense of humor and several other of her mannerisms. As he watched her now, he saw it more clearly. Her squarish jaw line, her entire facial structure, really.

Dear God. He was in love with Agent Mulder's long-lost sister.

Oh, boy.

He noticed she'd finished speaking the same time he noticed her hand awkwardly squeezing his and her eyes fluttering. He wondered what her first word would be. Fox, maybe? He didn't have to wonder for long.

"W-Walter?"

He wasn't sure what to call her. Holly? Samantha? "Hi." He smiled.

She focused on his face and returned the smile broadly. "Are you just going to sit there like a bump on a log or are you going to kiss me?"

He looked surprised, then chuckled and moved to kiss her softly. "I should call your doctor. And the agents." She nodded and he left, promising a quick return.

After finding Dr. Mackey, Walter joyously went to the pay phone in the hall near Holly's room. Whoever she was, whether Holly Ray or Samantha Mulder, the very first thing she'd wanted upon awakening was a kiss from him! He was almost overwhelmed by her gesture. With those few words, she had single-handedly made him the happiest man alive.

Walter sighed as he dialed Mulder's apartment. "Mulder."

"It's Walter." Skinner had convinced Mulder to call him by his given name as well since he was no longer the younger man's boss.

"How is she?"

"She just woke up. I think you and Dana should come down."

All three were staying in their own homes now, but Walter had a sneaking suspicion that Dana was at Mulder's. "We'll be right there," Mulder said before hanging up.

Walter continued to wait, not so patiently, as Dr. Mackey examined Holly. Samantha. Whatever. He knew this was going to turn into one helluva day for all of them. Mulder would finally find his sister. She who had been here with them for about three months now, with none of them the wiser. Life was very strange indeed.

"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed as he dropped his phone on the couch.

"What?!" she called from the shower.

"She's awake! That was Walter! We gotta go!"

"Ten minutes, Mulder!"

Soon they were headed for the hospital in anticipation. While tied to Holly by the tendrils of light, they had indeed experienced all her mind had processed, and had therefore seen for themselves the memories of Holly's life until the age of eight. Her life in this reality as Samantha Mulder. Mulder himself had immediately recognized many of the scenes, and had shared with both Walter and Scully his firm belief in this woman's true identity. Being the ever-pragmatic Scully, however, his partner had said she'd wait until she saw the results of a DNA test before she got too excited.

Of course, deep down, Scully was ecstatic. She'd noticed the similarities between Ray and Mulder just as much as Walter had.

But Fox had been nearly beside himself since the incident. He wanted so very much to believe Holly was his sister, but he'd been duped before and was understandably unwilling to set himself up for yet another fall. But he couldn't help himself. He'd seen her memories as though they were his own! What she'd been experiencing could never have been known by an outsider. Never. And ever since he'd seen her in the hallway with Scully that fateful day, he'd felt quite drawn to her. But he'd attributed that to feelings of gratitude for having helped his partner. Until he had seen images of his own early childhood flood his mind. He knew she was Sam. His Sam. But would everyone else believe him? What would her reaction be? What would the DNA test show? She knew all about his sister from her own reality, but did she want to be her or did she want to stay Holly? Her decision is what frightened Fox the most. Could he handle having found Sam, only to not be able to treat her like Sam?

Dr. Mackey finished his thorough examination of Holly. To his surprise, she asked for a DNA test to be performed to match her with a man named Fox William Mulder, whom she assured him should be arriving shortly. The doctor had drawn the blood and asked to be paged when Mr. Mulder arrived and was ready for him.

As soon as Dr. Mackey left, Walter entered the room and found Holly propped up into a sitting position on the bed.

"Are they coming?" she asked.

"They should be here soon."

"Walter, will you help me sit on the edge of the bed? I'm extremely weak from the neck down, but I'd like to be able to face Mulder rather than look up at him like an invalid."

Walter gently lifted her until she sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling lifelessly over the side. She couldn't possibly sit up by herself, so Walter climbed into the bed behind her and held her up with his own body and hands.

Seconds later, Dana Scully and Fox Mulder burst into the room. Dana flew to Holly and hugged her tightly. "Holly, oh God, I'm so happy you're awake! Oh, thank God!"

Holly was more than slightly miffed that she couldn't hug Doc in return, but she knew she'd get better. At least, she hoped so. Dana, meanwhile, had noticed her lack of movement, as well as Walter's supportive seat, and worry furrowed her brow. "What is it?" she asked, her voice overflowing with concern. "What's the matter with your body?"

Fox was instantly beside Dana, a very anxious look creasing his face.

"Dr. Mackey has no idea why I'm experiencing difficulty moving. There seems to be no obvious physical cause save possibly exhaustion. I think my...experience...was so traumatic for my body that my muscles are just very weak. It will pass, I'm certain of it."

"But that means you can't heal yourself anymore," Fox stated.

Holly's eyes welled up with tears. "No. Iitiayli is dead. I felt him leave me right before I awoke."

"Dead?" Fox repeated.

Holly nodded. "He violated the cardinal law of his race by coming to Earth to save me and all of you. The punishment is death, even for their leader."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Dana hugged her friend again.

"I am, too. He, a completely alien lifeform who isn't capable even of love, gave his life for the four of us and, by definition, for our entire planet. I can't believe he's gone, but I can sense the emptiness within myself which he filled for so long with his presence."

Four pairs of eyes were full of tears at their mutual loss.

After several moments of silence, Holly finally spoke, her voice wavering. "Mulder...Fox—please come to me."

Fox came to stand before the woman he truly believed to be his sister. Walter and Dana watched intently as the two stared deeply into one another's eyes...into one another's souls.

"S-Sam?" Fox's question was barely audible.

"Fox—Fox...I already had blood drawn for a DNA test," she stammered. "Dr. Mackey said he'd draw your blood whenever you're ready."

Seeing a look of mild surprise register on his face, she hurriedly added, "We need to be certain before we get in any deeper. I think I know who I am, but I can't allow you to be hurt again. These may be false memories I've gotten. I can't let them wound you anymore. If I'm not really Samantha, you'd be crushed, so let's hold off until we know for certain. Okay?"

Mulder knew this was Samantha. There was a connection with her he'd never felt with the clones. But he also knew he had to placate not only Holly, but Scully as well. He nodded slowly. "Okay. Call Dr. Mackey."

Scully left for the Nurses' Station, asking them to page the doctor. Ten minutes later, Mackey arrived.

"Is Mr. Mulder ready for the drawing of blood, Ms. Scully?"

"Yes. He is."

"Very well. Let's get to it then, shall we?"

Dr. Mackey quickly and efficiently drew blood from Mulder's arm. Meanwhile, Walter helped Holly lay back down in bed comfortably. As he tucked the covers around her, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm extremely tired. I should rest. Perhaps my body will work better after some sleep."

"All right. I'll leave you, then."

Holly tried reaching out to grasp Walter's hand, but succeeded only in moving her own hand a fraction of an inch. "Walter! Please, won't you stay? I mean, can you—will you stay? I very much want you here with me, if you want it as well."

"Would it frighten you too much if I told you there's nowhere in this world, or out of this world, that I would rather be than here by your side?"

Holly's eyes now brimmed with tears. Good God, the man was hopelessly in love with her!

ALL RIGHT!!!

"No words could make me happier, Walter," she smiled, a stray tear rolling down her cheek.

As Fox and Dana watched (Dr. Mackey had since departed), their former boss leaned over Mulder's maybe-sister and kissed her fully on the lips, then sat in the bedside chair. His two large hands swallowed one of her smaller ones whole. Holly closed her eyes and said, "Don't worry, Mulder. Soon we will know."

Fox came to the other side of the bed and took Holly's free hand, gallantly kissing the back of it. "I know, Butt Munch. You're so sensible. No wonder you and Scully get along so well. Ow!"

Scully had poked him in the ribs.

"Dana, Dana, Dana," Holly smiled, opening her eyes to look at the glowing partners. "I fear I am destined to referee the Mulder-Scully game forever."

Dana stroked Holly's hair for a moment, then said, "See that you do." She placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. "We're going to grab a bite to eat. Do you two want anything?"

Holly groaned. "Thanks a lot, Doc. You know I'm on hospital rations!"

Dana laughed as Walter said, "Yes, something for me, please. Whatever you're having." His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Fox and Dana left, and Walter gazed silently at the woman in the bed, who slowly began drifting off to sleep. "Walter?" she mumbled.

"Yes?"

"Do—do you...I mean, are you—?"

"Yes, I do and I am. Hopelessly."

She smiled as sleep overtook her. "Me...too."

And Walter wept for joy. Whether he called her Holly or Samantha for the rest of her life, she was his one and only, and he was hers. He felt a peace and calm settle over him, the likes of which he'd never known in all his life.

She loves me.

I love her.

Funny how the simplest thing changes your life. Just love. That's all. Love requited, love returned, love shared. Love.

"I love you," he whispered. At that, he lay his head on her leg and fell soundly asleep, perhaps the first time he'd been able to claim sleep so quickly in his whole life. He was at rest.

Scully and Mulder walked the few blocks to a new Thai restaurant called 'The Thai Is High.' They placed their orders, and the waitress brought their beverages.

"Scully, she—she's the best, isn't she?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Even if she's not...Sam—and I really have no doubt that she is—I still love her. I don't know why. Or how."

Scully just watched him as he fidgeted, knowing how difficult it was for him to open up to anyone. Finally, he looked up and met her gaze. "You know, with the arrest of the Consortium leaders, the demise of the rest of the operation is sure to follow. At least, the operation as we know it."

She nodded.

"And you and I won't be in the same type of danger as when it existed."

She nodded again. She knew where this was leading, but Mulder had to figure it out for himself, without her help.

"And I'm certain Holly is Samantha, so that will mean I've found the entire reason behind my taking on the X-Files to begin with: my sister."

She nodded yet again.

"So what it boils down to is that the Consortium will soon be a bad memory, Holly will soon be proven scientifically to actually be Sam, and Walter will soon be reappointed as Assistant Director."

Once again, an almost imperceptible nod from Scully as she took a sip of her iced tea.

He took a deep breath. "As you reminded me, there are still truths out there to be discovered. If you'd still like to search for them with me."

Dana reached out to grab his hand, which lay in wait on the tabletop between them. "I wouldn't want it any other way." She smiled, and Mulder shared the gesture.

"Scully, I—I know of one truth that we've both been...afraid to find."

"Yes?"

"Yes. The Truth of us."

"Are you afraid?"

"Terrified. Are you?"

"Yes."

"We've faced other fears head on." He paused, looking away even as his hand caressed hers. "Can we face this one?"

"As long as we're together, anything's possible, Mulder." She smiled.

The waitress interrupted them. They didn't let go of each other's hands as the woman placed their meals on the table. "Will that be all?"

"Yes," Mulder replied, his eyes firmly locked on Scully's.

"Enjoy," she said as she walked away.

To Scully, Mulder said, with a very definite twinkle in his eye, "Oh, I think I will."

After finishing most of their meals, Fox and Dana walked back to the hospital hand-in-hand. They both felt a bit awkward, but happy at the same time.

"I can't believe Walter is in love with her," Mulder said as they entered the front doors.

"I know. After what he went through trying to patch things up with Sharon, I didn't think he'd ever get involved again."

Fox nodded in agreement. "You know, if they stay together, I might end up related to our boss." He grimaced in a half-jesting manner.

Scully laughed aloud as they entered the elevator. "Which, by default, would make him related to me as well."

Realizing what she'd just implied, Dana blushed furiously.

"Why, Agent Scully, are you proposing to me?" Fox laughed as they walked down the corridor to Holly's room.

Dana was too embarrassed to answer. Right outside Holly's door, Mulder twirled Scully around and pulled her into his embrace. "I'm supposed to be the one to propose," he said, his voice deep with sincerity and desire. "Even if it is the 90s."

She giggled, a sound that was soon stifled as his lips found hers. This was most definitely not a chaste kiss. Her lips parted in hunger, allowing him to taste her mouth. Her tongue caressed his gently as they enjoyed this first true kiss between them.

Holly had awakened to find Walter asleep on her leg, his hand holding hers. She smiled as her heart overflowed with love and joy. I am Samantha, she thought. I have my brother, I have Dana, and I have this most incredible man who loves me. I hope Fox and Dana have had that talk.

She turned her head as movement in the hall caught her eye. A wide grin swallowed her face as she watched the two agents kissing passionately through the window in her door. I guess they did! She thought, wishing she could've been a fly on the wall for that one.

Finally they separated, clasped hands, and entered the room. Fox placed a bag of food on a nearby table for Walter. He and Dana smiled at the scene before them. They went to the other side of the bed to whisper to Holly so as not to disturb her slumbering companion.

"You guys should go home," Holly whispered. "It looks like you have some, uh, lost time to make up for."

Fox and Dana both blushed.

"I'm so happy for you. It's what I've always wanted, what I've dreamed of for so long. Go ahead, I'm okay. Walter's here."

"Are you sure?" Dana asked, squeezing her friend's hand.

She nodded, so Dana moved to kiss her forehead, then Fox leaned down to do the same. "Call us if you need anything," he whispered.

"Which apartment?" Holly asked mischievously.

They both blushed again. "Mine," was Dana's soft reply as her and Mulder's eyes locked.

"Okay. I love you guys, you know."

"We love you, too. Goodnight," Scully said.

Fox smiled as they left the room. As he turned to shut the door behind them, he mouthed the words 'I love you, Sam.'

Holly mouthed back, 'And I love you, Fox.'

And once again, Holly slept.

The two agents rode to Scully's apartment in relative silence. Both were so overwhelmed by so many different things. The discovery of Samantha (no, the DNA test results wouldn't be conclusive for a while, but—they just knew); their new relationship with Skinner; proof positive of the existence of more than one extraterrestrial race; the beginning of the end for the Consortium (including Cancer Man); the truth about Mulder and Krycek's paternal parentage; the discovery of the existence of at least one alternate reality; and, most importantly, Fox and Dana's very own profession of love and commitment to each other for the long haul.

So many things happening so very, very quickly. Their brains were on overload. As it was, they could barely drag themselves up to Scully's apartment and get inside without falling all over themselves. Once inside, they didn't even bother to turn lights on. They crumpled onto the couch together. Mulder's brain, as usual, was working overtime. Scully's was running a close second. Being exhausted by the past few months' events coupled with the weight lifted from their shoulders due to the imminent erasure of the Syndicate caused them to fall asleep instantly. As they slept, Mulder somehow stretched along the length of the couch and Scully stretched out on top of him. They both snored softly.

Three hours later, Scully awoke with a very real need to use the bathroom. She carefully lifted herself off her partner, wondering how the hell she'd gotten that way to begin with, and took care of her business. Noticing how quiet the apartment was, she clicked on the radio to a soft rock station in the middle of a love song marathon.

Being the light sleeper that he was, Scully's quiet movements had awakened Mulder. He didn't let her know, however, until she'd settled back down on top of him. "More comfortable than your bed?" he whispered, causing her to start. "Sorry." He smiled.

"As a matter of fact, no, this is not more comfortable than my bed. But you're here, so this is where I'm sleeping," she answered as she buried her face in his neck. "Mmm, you smell good, Mulder."

"So do you, Scully. Good night," he crooned, rubbing her back with his left hand. His right hand stroked her hair gently. He could have sworn she was purring.

A new song began to play on the radio, one which caused both Fox and Dana's eyes to open wide. As they listened to the words, their eyes locked in the near-total darkness.

I spent my whole life thinkin'
Oh, that there could not be
Anyone in this world who'd show me they cared
Who'd really be there to love me
Now you're holdin' me, and I see in your eyes
That you've been lonely too, baby

We've been all alone on our own for so long
But it's all behind us
The words no one heard when we sang our sad song
Well it's all behind us now

Every time I looked for love
It looked the other way
Now love has turned around, it's smilin' at me
Now someone loves me
All the nights in the moonlight with no one to hold
Take a good look at us, baby

We've been all alone on our own for so long
But it's all behind us
The words no one heard when we sang our sad song
Well it's all behind us now

Every dream is comin' true now that I'm holdin' you near
Happiness without end, I feel alive again
Suddenly I cannot even remember when

We were all alone on our own for so long
But it's all behind us
The words no one heard when we sang our sad song
Well it's all behind us now
It's all behind us now

"Ain't that the truth," Mulder whispered, holding Dana to him so tightly she could barely breathe. She nodded and clung to him as well, each knowing full well that unhappiness, loneliness and isolation were indeed all behind them now.

The next several days passed fairly normally enough. Holly still couldn't move her body very well, but she was now able to hold objects in her hands, usually without dropping them.

The Attorney General had processed a hefty amount of charges against each Syndicate elder, all depositions were completed, almost all evidence was tested, analyzed and recorded.

Each man was to be tried separately, and Krycek, Walter, Fox and Dana were scheduled to testify at each and every one. It was therefore decided to move Walter's reappointment to the Assistant Directorship back until such time as he would no longer be needed for the trials. The DA had been more than generous with Walter given both his own story and Mulder and Scully's testimony in his defense. Similarly, the X-Files Division was closed until such time as Walter Skinner returned to his former position, and until Fox Mulder and Dana Scully could run the division unimpeded by court dates. All three accepted their paid leaves-of-absence with open arms. So much was going on in their personal lives, they all needed the respite.

Then came the day they would receive the results of the preliminary DNA tests run on Holly Ray and Fox Mulder's blood samples.

I knew what they'd say; hell, all four of us knew, but we'd carefully avoided intimating the reality of my identity. There's that word 'reality' again. Ya gotta love it. I guess we all wanted proof. Not just Scully this time. In a way, I was rather afraid to hear the doctor tell us what we already knew in our hearts. Afraid because I figured Fox, with the ultimate proof at his disposal, would pounce on me and never let me up for air. From living in the alternate reality, I knew damn well what Samantha meant and represented to that man. It scared me that I was so loved. He gave his entire adult life to finding me. No one had ever loved me or believed in me so fiercely, and now I had not only Fox, but Dana and my beloved Walter.

Ah, Walter. At once terrifyingly gentle and strong as an ox. He brought me white tulips, my favorite flower, tons and tons of them. He finally began opening up to me, like the petals of one of my tulips when the sun kisses it awake in the morning. He talked of many things, telling me about his life: childhood, Vietnam, college, the FBI, the Consortium, Cancer Man—everything that constituted Walter Sergei Skinner was laid at my feet. He was giving me everything he was. And I reciprocated. Anything I hadn't told him the night he'd been shot I gave to him during that time. We even had several of our heart-to-heart talks while the Fox and the Doc were present. Both of us wanted the two of them to know us completely. Of course, Walter was so shy with them there at first, but I told him to pretend he was talking to me and only me, and that seemed to make the difference. The three of them had grown quite fond of one another, and Walter no longer felt the need to lock himself up tight as a drum.

I told them about my life in the other reality—God, it seems like only a dream now. As I said, Walter had known much of it from the night we had dinner at Scully's, but it was all new to Fox and Dana, and they listened attentively, both wanting to know as much about me as possible. Walter and I even goaded Fox and Doc into talking about themselves some, miracle of miracles! Although they didn't spill their guts like we did, but for them it was a huge step in the right direction. We carefully avoided talk of Fox's life from age 4 to age 12 (when I was his sister) by unspoken agreement.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

Walter was the first to arrive that morning. He kissed me awake and I smiled. "Good morning, Holly," he said. I had asked them all to continue calling me Holly until such time as undeniable test results proved me to be Samantha.

"Good morning," I responded.

"Today's the big day," he said, grasping my hand.

I was also being released today. I was still mostly an invalid, but Doc had promised to take care of me, with Fox and Walter's help, at her apartment. She was like a mother or a big sister to me, as well as my best friend, and I loved her for it, knowing full well the huge inconvenience I'd be. Especially now that she and Fox had finally admitted their love and decided to pursue a deeper relationship.

Fox and Dana had spent most of the last few days rearranging her apartment to accommodate my wheelchair. She'd even had a bar installed by the toilet and two in the shower/tub. With the permission of her landlord, she'd also had a temporary heavy plywood ramp placed to the left side of the front steps to her building. I still wouldn't be able to get up to the apartment, but at least I could go inside if the weather was bad, and that was better than nothing.

So today was finally here. Dana arrived shortly after Walter to help me bathe and dress. "Mulder had a few errands to run, but he said he'd be here in time to meet with Dr. Mackey," she assured me.

I knew that brother of mine, and couldn't help but wonder what mischief he was up to. I could see by Dana's eyes that she was thinking along the same lines as I. What could he possibly be doing on this of all mornings?

Walter placed me in the tub, then waited outside of the room. We'd done this once before two days earlier, and Doc's calm, cool 'Doctor' exterior allayed most of the embarrassment I felt as she removed my hospital gown, hopefully for the last time. I couldn't even sit up on my own, so she propped me up against the back of the tub and patiently pulled me up every time I started sliding down.

She carefully washed my hair and body. I'm almost ashamed to admit that her soft, cool hands felt so wonderful on my body that I didn't ever want that bath to end. Although I couldn't move too much below my neck, I could feel everything—it was almost like my skin was super-sensitized.

When she finished, she drained the water from the tub, dried me off a bit, then wrapped one towel around my body and another around my hair. Then she went to fetch Walter. Oh, Scully could lift me up and plop me into my wheelchair without a doubt, but I think she knew I wanted my Walter to carry me that morning. She's so tuned into my mind. It's scary sometimes.

So Walter came into the bathroom as Scully went to complete the last of my release papers. He blushed slightly as he ever-so-gently reached down and lifted my limp body into the air. Cradling me in his arms, he carried me into the hospital room proper and prepared to put me on the bed.

"No," I said softly. "Please take me to the window."

He complied, holding me tightly against his warm body as we watched the emergency vehicles come and go, the doctors, nurses and EMT's running into and out of the building, the frantic family members following behind.

"I wish I could move," I whispered. I had kept my chin up since I learned of my immobility, not wishing to further burden my three best friends by showing them how dampened my spirit was becoming. Without Iitiayli's silent strength, the something I felt missing within me became almost tangible, and I wondered if I would ever recover. Surely Iitiayli could have healed me before he left. Then why didn't he? Why leave me almost paralyzed for no medical reason?

"You will," was his soft reply. "I have faith in you. We all do."

"Kiss me," I said. Since I couldn't reach out for Walter, and he was generally so shy about these things, I found the best way to get a kiss from him was to demand one. He always smiled bashfully, then complied. And those kisses always served to calm me, to fill my being with the essence that was wholly him. The love I felt for him would build with each kiss more than the last.

What he didn't know is that the biggest reason I wished I could move was so I could properly make love to him.

Would I ever be able to do that?

Did it matter as much to him as it did to me?

Dana came back and Walter once again left the room, this time so she could dress me. She'd purchased a pair of jeans and a red sweater for me. She pulled socks and shoes on my feet, then went about brushing my hair. When she'd finally combed through all the tangles, she proceeded to French braid it, tying it at the end with a simple elastic. Neither of us spoke the whole time. We were both nervous as hell.

It was nearing 9am and our appointment with Dr. Mackey. Walter and Dana fidgeted as I sat in bed with the back raised. God, how I wished I could fidget, too. Fox still hadn't arrived.

Dr. Mackey knocked on the door before entering. His face registered mild surprise at my wayward brother's noticeable absence. "Will Mr. Mulder be joining us?"

"He'd better, or I'll kill him myself," Dana muttered.

As if on cue, Fox walked through the door...

...with Tena Mulder in tow.

I think everyone in the room gasped in surprise.

"Mom wanted to be here," Fox said to me as Tena leaned against the far wall.

I nodded as he sat down on the bed and turned an expectant face toward the doctor.

"You all know I am here to give you the preliminary results of the DNA test requested by Mrs. Ray," Mackey said. "Mrs. Ray, do you wish all in this room to be present?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Very well." He straightened and opened the plain manila folder in his hands. I held my breath. I think everyone did. "The results are as follows: At the conclusion of the preliminary DNA test results, it can be concluded with 99.69% accuracy that Mr. Fox William Mulder and Mrs. Holly Deborah Ray are what we term as 'included.' These results show that the two of you share one similar set of DNA. It is the opinion of this hospital laboratory that the two of you are, unquestionably, half-siblings."

The room filled with carbon dioxide as the people present exhaled simultaneously. "Take care of yourselves," Dr. Mackey said as he left. "I will leave copies of the test results at the Nurse's Station for you."

All eyes were riveted on Samantha Ann Mulder. Fox's eyes welled up with tears as he ardently hugged the woman in the bed. "Sam," he sobbed.

"Fox," she cried. The tears flowed freely throughout the room.

Tena Mulder, feeling very unsure of herself, sidled up to the bed and took Sam's hand tentatively. "Samantha?"

"Mom." Tena hugged her long-lost daughter.

"But—I don't understand..."

"What, Mom?"

"You're—I know it's silly, but your hair...it's blonde."

Sam laughed out loud. "It's Clairol Nice 'N Easy, Mom!"

They were all about to embark on a brand-new journey. One whose path could not be anticipated any more than the one Fox and Dana had begun so long ago the day she'd walked into his life in a dingy little basement office. A happier life, hopefully. One filled with loved ones and laughter and sunshine. No more lies. No more deceit. No more shadows.

Only love. Joy. A bright future.

Weird? Unbelievable? Yes, I suppose so. If I were just plain old Holly Ray, sitting back in my motel room in the Glendale, California of my reality, watching this as an episode on TV, I'd probably be thinking, 'I know this is the X-Files, but come on, Carter, this is just a bit farfetched!' Oh, well. It doesn't matter whether or not anyone who reads this believes me. I know what happened. I know how my life changed forever late one night while I was walking my dog. And I know how happy I am now. I wouldn't want it any other way.

This is my reality. My pro re.