It's Gonna Get Better - Part 2

The final battle to protect Earth from alien invasion is about to begin

Rated NC-17 for Sexual Content and Canon-typical Violence

*****

Robin Hood Motel

Tucson, Arizona

John Doggett watched from the curbside as Dana Mulder and her son entered their hotel room. He sighed heavily and followed, not really looking forward to going inside. The others had been hard at work with whatever plan Dana had cooked up ever since she and Frohike had returned from El Creyente yesterday evening. She had set everyone out to do or find something, including him. He had been assigned to contact all the MUFON groups in the area, getting names and information of recent UFO sightings. It had been boring and tiring, and he had collapsed into bed at 4 AM this morning, not even caring that his roommate, Skinner, wasn't in the other bed.

Shortly after he woke this morning, he had followed Dana and Will to the church, determined to keep them both safe, but he hadn't gone in to sit with them through the Spanish Mass. Not only did he not know Spanish all that well, but he wasn't a church goer. In fact, he hadn't been inside of a church since Luke's funeral years ago, and he had no real desire to enter one again. So, he had stood outside, listening to the unrecognizable words of the priest and the responses of the congregation, wondering what Dana hoped to

get out of the service.

She had known he was following them, of course; she had turned to watch him as he left the motel behind them. Her expression had been exasperated yet resigned, and Will had

grinned at him. Since then, they had simply ignored him. He had stayed far enough back to be unobtrusive, but he hadn't tried to hide his presence. Now they had returned to the motel, safe and sound, and Doggett began to wonder what exactly would happen next.

With another sigh, he made his way up to the motel door. Though they had taken three different rooms at the worn-out motor court, they had spent the majority of their time in

the room the Lone Gunmen shared. It had become a lab of sorts, though it looked more like a teenager’s bedroom, with unpacked luggage and discarded tennis shoes lying about the floor. Doggett gave two sharp raps to the door, then entered, immediately stepping over Will's sneakers, which he had apparently pulled off himself just a few short minutes ago. Dana saw him avoid the hazard.

"William, will you please pick up your shoes?"

"Why?" the little boy asked. He was standing at the table by the bathroom, intently watching Monica and Skinner, who were working on their assigned project. The two FBI agents smiled at each other at Will's words, and Doggett felt a small ache start in his chest.

"Because someone might trip over them and get hurt, that's why." Dana said the words calmly, with no impatience or anger, and Will responded by skipping away from the table,

past Doggett, and over to his shoes. He clumsily grabbed them up in one hand, then stood next to Doggett, reaching up to take his hand. Doggett gripped the boy's pudgy fingers gently in his own, then moved forward when Will tugged on his hand. "Come see," he said, excitement flashing in his hazel eyes.

Doggett didn't really want to go over to the table where his partner and his boss were working together, but he couldn't refuse Will. He glanced at Dana, who was sitting cockeyed on one of the beds, a phone book in front of her on the bed and her cell-phone at her ear. He heard noises coming from the open door of the bathroom and knew the Gunmen where in there doing something with Dana's 'snake oil.' He hoped they weren't about to blow up the motel room.

Will stopped him in front of the table, and Monica grinned up at him. "Welcome back," she said. "Thanks for getting that info for us."

Doggett grunted in response, not sure what he was supposed to say, and Monica frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Something right?" he responded.

She grinned again. "I see your point."

"You sure that's not the top of his head?" Skinner said quietly, not looking up from the map spread out in the table in front of him.

Monica giggled. "Walter!" she exclaimed. "Be nice."

Walter?! Since when did she call their boss Walter?

Feeling unreasonably angry all of a sudden, Doggett clenched the fist not holding Will's hand. "Is there some other meaningful chore you need me to do, or do you just want me to stand guard outside the door?" He didn't know why he was angry. It wasn't like he really wanted to be involved in this mess. It wasn't like these people were his friends, or that he owed them anything.

He felt a tug on his right hand, and he looked down to see Will frowning up at him. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt his anger fade. Looking back at Will, he smiled. "I'm

okay."

The boy didn't seem convinced, but Doggett had no way of proving his words. The kid knew exactly what was going on with Doggett's emotions anyway, so if Will was still worried, maybe he had good reason. Doggett looked back at Monica. Her expression had also become serious, as if she too could read his feelings. Panic flowed through him. No! He didn't mind that William knew what he was thinking, but he did not want Monica to see inside his soul as well.

He met his partner's eyes with his own and felt his heart rate increase even more. No, she couldn't read his mind. But he could read her expression, and as soon as she realized it, she looked away, back down at the map. Hiding her sudden fear. Fear that he now knew what she was thinking.

She didn't hide it very well. "Monica?" Skinner was watching her with concern, then he flashed his brown eyes toward Doggett. "Did I miss something?"

"No," Doggett immediately said, and Monica cast him a grateful glance before returning back to concentrate on the map. "What do you need me to do?"

"Get us some food," Dana said from the bed. "I'm hungry."

Doggett looked at her. It was obvious by the way she was sitting that she had observed the entire scene by the table, having finished her phone call to whoever. He watched her

for a while, then nodded. "Sure, I can do that. Errand slash delivery boy, at your service." He couldn't help the sarcasm in his voice.

"I'll go with you," Dana said. "Will can help Monica and Skinner."

"Can't I help Frohike?"

"No," Dana said firmly. "You are to stay out of the bathroom."

Doggett looked down to see William pouting, then glanced back up at Dana. "What are they doing in there?"

"Getting our ammo ready," Dana said.

"Huh?"

"They’re putting the 'snake oil' into the darts," Skinner said without looking up from the map.

"Huh?" Doggett repeated, causing William to giggle. He grinned down at the boy.

Smiling, Dana stood up from her seat on the bed. "I'll explain on the way to getting some sustenance."

"Everything?" Doggett asked, serious once again.

Dana cocked her head. "Everything."

Doggett nodded. Giving Will's hand one last gentle squeeze, he followed Dana out of the room.

*****

"Why do I have the sneaky suspicion you feel left out?" Scully looked at Doggett with her eyebrow raised, waiting for him to deny her observation.

Surprisingly, he didn't. "Am I that obvious or are you just reading my mind?

His voice was rough, full of defeat. She didn't like the sound of it at all. "John, you know I can't do that. I'm not a telepath. Not everybody but you can read minds."

"You can read Mulder's." He turned his startling blue eyes on her as they walked along the sidewalk, heading for the fast food restaurant down the street from the motel.

Scully nodded. "Yeah, but that's..." How did she explain it? "That wasn't expected. I can read his mind, and Will's to an extent. And I can sense when I'm in the presence of a telepath." She stopped walking and looked him directly in the eye. "But I cannot read your mind, any more than you can read mine."

She watched as he took a deep breath. "Then I'm just obvious."

"You're obviously ticked, yes," Scully said with a wry twist to her mouth. "You say you don't believe, and yet you get angry when you aren't allowed to be a part of the plan. What

do you expect?"

"I expect you to trust me to help you in any way I can." The sincerity in his voice was uncompromising.

She sighed heavily. "What do you think is going on here, Agent Doggett? Are you going to help us take over and destroy a secret military base? Just like that?"

"I may not want to believe there are aliens in this base you speak of," Doggett said, his brow furrowed in frustration. "But I know that whatever is going on there is dangerous to

the general public and needs to be stopped. Even if it means doing something as drastic as this." He looked up at the pale blue sky above them for a second, as if looking for answers, then he turned back to Scully. "These 'replicants,' as you call them, have to be stopped. That I know. And I will help you with whatever crazy scheme you've cooked up to do that."

"Crazy scheme, huh?" Scully nodded and started walking again. Doggett continued on at her side. "Byers and Monica managed to acquire several shotguns after arriving here yesterday," she said softly. "I have no desire to ask how."

"Shotguns?"

"Special shotguns," she clarified. "Shotguns that fire darts."

Doggett stopped once again, and Scully turned to see the shock on his face. "Dart guns? Like veterinarians and biologists use to sedate wild animals?"

She nodded. "Only we aren't putting sedative in the darts," she continued. "We're putting in--"

"Your snake oil," Doggett finished. "To use on the replicants."

"Yeah," Scully said softly, watching as her old partner glanced back at the motel. Now he knew what the guys had been doing in the bathroom and why she hadn't wanted Will in there. The snake oil, like the real blood from the Grays and their hybrids, was like acid to a human. Though Byers, Frohike and Langly were wearing rubber gloves, Scully knew the acid could eat through the material. However, it would do so slowly, giving them enough time to rid themselves of the glove before it ate all the way through to the skin.

"You know how to handle a shotgun, Agent Doggett?" she asked with a smirk.

"Can fish swim?" Doggett responded with a small smile of his own.

"Good," Scully said with a sharp nod of her head. "Then we'll let you come with us."

"To go in and shoot up a bunch of replicants?" Doggett asked, his frown returning. "That will save the world?"

"Oh, no," Scully said, heading off toward the restaurant again. "That's just the distraction. Langly and Skinner did their own treasure hunt yesterday."

"Explosives."

She turned to look at him as he walked stiffly beside her. "Yes. How did you know?"

"The goal is to destroy the base, correct?" He didn't look at her.

"The labs underneath more than the base itself," Scully corrected.

"Doesn't matter. Same diff."

Scully watched him for a while. "You still with us?"

He finally looked at her. "Of course."

"You still think it's crazy?"

"Yep."

She couldn't help it; she laughed. Doggett chuckled in response.

They were silent for a while, walking quietly along. But Scully had one more question to pose her friend. "What's up with you and your partner?"

Eyes wide, Doggett turned his head sharply to look at her. "What?!"

"I saw the looks you gave each other back there," she said, nodding her head toward the motel behind them.

"What kind of looks?" Doggett asked, his demeanor tense again.

"I don't know that I can explain them," Scully told him. "But I recognized them, nonetheless."

"How?"

"Seven years of being on the receiving end of several of those looks, for one. And not recognizing them at the time." She sighed and gave him a rueful smile. "And not realizing until it was too late that I was sending a few of them out, too. Like Monica was today, only she recognized it for what it was."

"Which was?" Doggett's voice had gone dark.

"John, when two people share as much as FBI partners do, they are bound to become close. Sometimes too close. That's why the Bureau never lets their agents keep the same partner for too long; they transfer agents often, to keep things in perspective. But the X-Files have always been special. Nobody wants to work there, so if the Bureau gets two people who work well together on that project, they tend to leave them there. Together."

"They separated you and Mulder after your first year, didn't they?"

"Yeah, but not to keep us from becoming too close to each other. They separated us because we were becoming too close to the truth." She smiled a secret smile. "They still

couldn't keep us apart. Even then."

"So, what you're saying is...?"

"What I'm saying is your partner becomes someone you respect. Then someone you trust. Then someone you call a friend. When you have that respect, trust and friendship, love is the inevitable result. And in the case of two attractive, moderately young agents, love can quickly turn to romantic love. Passion." Shaking her head softly, Scully continued. "Even obsession."

Doggett was silent for a long moment. "You lecturing me on romance, Agent Mulder?"

Scully smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am. Granted, it took me long enough to recognize it in my life, but the point is that I did recognize it." She looked up at him. "Don't ignore it. If it's there, take care of it. It may be the best thing in your life."

"I'm not in love with Agent Reyes, Dana." His voice was firm, but he refused to look her in the eye.

"But you love her, don't you? Consider her a friend?"

He nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I guess."

"Then you could fall in love with her. As she has already fallen in love with you." He didn't seem at all surprised by her statement. "You know that she's in love with you, don't you?"

"Yeah." He sounded mournful.

"But you won't let yourself love her back."

He didn't respond to that. Scully knew why. What could he say?

"John?" She waited until he looked at her, and the pain in his eyes caused a sympathetic jerk in her heart. "You've got to let me go."

"It's not that easy," he said with a whisper.

"No, it's not. Nothing worthwhile is."

She watched as he swallowed heavily, then turned to cross the parking lot of the restaurant. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."

It was a few moments before she heard his steady footsteps behind her.

*****

El Creyente Base

Mulder lay stiffly on top of the sheets of his bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. After Scully's departure yesterday afternoon, he had gone in search of Gibson, intent on demanding answers from the boy about why he hadn't told the Grays of Mulder's plans. Gibson, however, was nowhere to be found. Last night, instead of sleeping, Mulder had searched for the young man with his mind. He had felt Gibson's presence, but could not place where the boy was or what he was doing. He had given up trying around four in the morning and had slept a restless sleep.

All day today, he had kept up his work with the children. They had been tense because he had been tense, and he had finally released them from any kind of training to simply play, something they had rarely been allowed to do after Gibson had taken over their training. Susan had come in during the late afternoon, and a smiling Wesley had met her at the door, anxious to show her the drawing he had just completed. Susan had looked at Mulder with wonder on her face; it had been a long time indeed since her son had greeted her with such happiness and enthusiasm.

As wonderful as it was to see the children almost back to 'normal,' Mulder still worried. What was Gibson up to?

By bedtime that evening, Mulder knew what he had to do. Just as Frohike had said, it was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, Mulder closed his eyes and concentrated. He had to keep the Grays out, but he didn't care now if Gibson entered. Yet it wasn't Gibson Mulder wanted to talk to tonight.

Carefully, he let his mind search, reaching for the familiar 'touch' of a certain mind. The slight buzzing that started in his head told him he was on the right track. Instead of fighting it as he had done before, Mulder let his mind absorb the feeling, almost immediately finding that the irritant in his head eased the less he tried to subdue it.

Then he was there.

Gently he coaxed himself inside the familiar recesses of Scully's mind. She was sleeping, which made entry easier, but he felt it was almost a violation if he simply forced his way in. Instead, he asked, carefully invading her dreams.

They were dark, these dreams, and Mulder felt fear coarse through him as he recognized Scully's recurring nightmare. He had never shared it with her before; she had never let him. But he had seen enough bits and pieces of it to know what it was he was witnessing now.

Fire. Smoke. The smell of death and decay. A valley which had once been beautiful now totally destroyed. Ships of various sizes and shapes, some he recognized, some new and

horribly frightening, flew about the red sky above.

A man stood on the hilltop overlooking the valley. He was young, not much more than twenty years old, Mulder suspected, but his eyes were much older than the taut, well-muscled body. He was tall, lean, and had so much of the Scully family in him Mulder recognized him in an instant. When the man angled his head toward him, Mulder recognized

his own eyes.

William.

"We have to go," he was saying. "Now."

"Scully, stop."

Mulder felt the consciousness of the woman he was literally a part of jerk suddenly, almost waking. The fiery expanse beneath him disappeared, as did the man next to him. A

blinding white light took the nightmare's place, a light that slowly faded to the main bedroom of their shared apartment in Georgetown. Mulder allowed his own consciousness to place himself in the room, and he looked around curiously. Not much had changed since he had last seen the room over a year ago. It was comforting.

He heard a noise behind him and turned. She was standing there in the doorway, her eyes wide, frightened. She was wearing a silky blue negligee that swept the floor and barely hid her beautiful breasts. He wondered briefly if he had put her in that, or if she had. Judging by the look in her eyes, he had; she didn't seem quite sure of what was going on yet.

"What are you doing here?"

Mulder smiled. "I live here."

Frowning, Scully shook her head. "Not here!" She reached up to touch her forehead. "Here!"

"Gibson knows everything. I can afford a visit tonight." He felt his smile fade. "If you want me here, that is."

"Gibson knows?" Her voice was soft, terrified.

Mulder nodded. "But he hasn't done anything about it. Yet."

Her fear faded as she thought about the implications of what he said. "He was acting very unusual when I met him in Virginia," she said, her voice steady now. "Almost as if he was looking for help." She looked at him intently. "What if..."

"What if he's on our side?" Mulder finished. "Don't you think I've wondered that myself?" He felt anger slowly pulse through him. "We can't afford to trust him, but if he is going to tell them of our plans, then we have nothing to lose, do we?"

"So, you're here to tell me we need to act?"

"In part," Mulder said softly. "It's always been planned for tomorrow. Gibson's birthday." He looked her up and down. "But I don't think you're dressed like that just to hear my call to arms."

Scully looked down at herself, suddenly realizing just what she was wearing. "Oh, my," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. When she looked up, the fear was gone completely. "Why blue?"

"Brings out your eyes like nothing else does. And the red of your hair. Always has."

She smiled slightly, then gave him the same once over he had given her. Mulder looked down to find he was wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxers. He was almost positive he had had more clothing on when this dream had started. He looked up at her, giving her a wry grin. "I don't have a pair like this anymore."

"I know," she sighed. "It's a shame." Suddenly, she looked uncertain. "How can we do this?" she wondered aloud. "We never had dreams like this after you were gone."

"You're closer, now," he told her. "And I'm stronger as well."

"And what about my proximity distracting you?"

"It's not as if you're truly right next door," he told her. "There are still miles separating us." He remembered how the faint buzzing he had felt during his search for her had faded when he had opened himself to her. "Besides, I think I know what was causing the pain. It was because I had to stay closed off from you." He shook his head. "I can't do that. I don't think I'm supposed to do that. Ever."

Scully blinked at him. "Supposed to?"

He took a step closer to her. "Haven't you ever thought that all that has been done to us, all the pain and anger and frustration, all the torture and sickness and even death, only happened to make sure the bond between us would grow stronger? That we were meant to become joined together, as close as two people possibly can and still remain individuals?"

Scully looked at him intently for a moment. "If I didn't know better, Mulder, I would say you're coming on to me."

Mulder smiled at her words, then raised his hand toward her. "Tomorrow, all Hell is going to break lose, and I truly don't know if anybody is going to live through it." His smile had faded as he spoke, as had the light in her eyes. "So, let's forget about tomorrow. Just for tonight."

Her eyes never left his as she reached out and took his hand in hers. Though the contact was only in their minds, it felt real enough to send a chill up Mulder's spine. He backed toward the bed behind him, gently pulling her forward. When he felt the bed hit the back of his legs, he sat down heavily, spreading his legs and directing Scully to stand between them.

He reached up to cup her face between his hands, then drew her down to meet his lips. Gently, reverently, he kissed her. If this was the last time he was going to make love to her, he was going to make it last. He could do that. It was a dream, after all.

Scully smiled, and he realized he had directed the thought outward enough that she had picked it up. Her grin turning wicked, she stood straight and backed out of his embrace.

Slowly, she reached up to pull the straps of her silky night dress off her shoulders. The rest of the negligee followed easily, sliding down her body to land in a royal blue puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it, gracefully moving toward him once more. He reached for her now naked body, but she avoided his grasp.

"You want slow, Mulder?" she said softly, in a voice that was guaranteed to drive him wild.

He nodded, not trusting his own voice at that moment.

"What if I want it fast?" Scully asked. "What if I want it hard?"

Okay, Mulder had definitely lost control of this dream. Not that he minded one iota. "Your wish is my command."

He lunged at her, grabbed her up by the waist and swung her toward the bed. She landed with a squeal and a laugh. He was on top of her in no time, his boxers gone with just a thought. His or hers or both, he didn't know or care. All he cared about was the fact that her legs were now wrapped tightly about his waist. She was wet and ready, and so was he.

She squealed again as he slid home, and he realized that he had never heard her sound like that before. "I was too afraid of who would hear me," she whispered in his ear. Here, in this dreamscape that looked like their bedroom, they were truly alone.

They lay like that for a moment, knowing the feelings they were feeling were partially from their memory of past couplings, and partially from their combined imagination. She reached up and ran her fingers through his longish hair, then brought her hand forward to fondle the hair on his chin. He caught her thoughts before she could stop them.

"We'll find out how it feels later," he told her, watching in amusement as she blushed. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away from being inside you at the moment."

"Wild horses, huh?" she said softly. "Ride 'em, Cowboy."

He grinned and responded with a thrust of his hips. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh!" She closed her eyes and licked her bottom lip. "Again."

Another thrust, this one harder. Faster.

"Again!"

He obeyed. Again. And again. "More?"

"Yes! More!" She began to move her hips up to meet his thrusts. "Harder, Mulder. Take me hard!"

Damn, he loved it when she gave orders. He lowered his head and started sucking on her neck, glad that for once he didn't have to worry about the placement of his lovers brand.

"God, Mulder!" Scully shouted. "Harder, please! Fuck me harder!"

Scully's use of that word, one he had rarely heard come from her mouth, drove him crazy. Bracing his knees on the bed beneath him, he began to drive into her hard. "Like this?!" he demanded.

"Yes!" she yelled. "Yes! Oh, God! Awwwwwmuuuuuulder!"

He felt her muscles contract spasmodically around him, and without any more encouragement, he emptied himself into her.

He let himself fall into a deep slumber, his body sated, his mind relaxed. Her familiar scent combined in his nostrils along with the smell of sex. Her warmth entered deep into

his soul. He never wanted to leave this place. He never wanted to leave her.

"Mulder?"

It wasn't Scully's voice. He ignored it. It refused to be ignored.

"Mulder?"

His heart aching, he squeezed the woman in his arms. "I don't want to go."

"It's Gibson," she told him.

"You can hear him?"

"Yes," she told him. They were still firmly connected, both physically in the dreamscape and mentally. Of course, she could hear what he could. "It's real, not in your head."

"Meaning he's standing in my bedroom looking at me sleeping in my bed right after I've had the best wet dream of my life."

She giggled, and he smiled at the sound of it. "You need to talk to him, Mulder. You need answers."

He knew she was right. But he did not want to leave.

"Mulder, if we get through tomorrow, every night from here on out will be like this."

"That's a pretty big 'if'."

"Don't be so positive," she told him sarcastically. "Go."

"Scully..."

She reached up and placed a hand over his mouth. "I know. Let's save the rest of the sappy stuff for tomorrow, when we're together for real."

"For real."

She smiled suddenly and arched her hips upward. He groaned in response, then felt a sharp pinch on his arm. "Damn!"

Opening his eyes, he saw Gibson standing above him. "What the hell did you do to me?"

The boy stood back. "You weren't waking up. I was worried."

"So, you pinched me?!"

Gibson bit his lower lip and looked down. "It was either that or throw some water on you."

"Why didn't you just pick my brain, like you've done in the past?" Mulder was, of course, very glad the kid hadn't done just that, but he wasn't sure why he hadn't.

"I couldn't," Gibson whispered. "You were blocked somehow."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I couldn't get in your head. The walls were too strong."

Mulder hadn't put up many walls. He had never had an easy time of putting up walls; he needed to concentrate hard to keep those barriers up...and his concentration a short while

ago had been nil. He hadn't had any walls up.

Scully.

He remembered how long it had taken for her to lower her barriers enough to let him in during love-making. It had been harder to take the wall down than to keep it up. She had protected them. She had kept their mental tryst safe from Gibson...and anyone else who wanted to interrupt.

He smiled as he sat up, pulling down his pillow to set it on his lap. If the kid hadn't been able to enter his mind, then he had no idea what had just taken place. He wasn't about to

let Gibson see the wet spot on the front of his boxers. No way.

"What do you want, kid?" he said, hardening his voice.

"To help you."

"Help me what?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"Destroy this place. Destroy them. All of them."

*****

Robin Hood Motel

Tucson, Arizona

Scully opened her eyes and stared at the bare white ceiling above her. Taking a deep breath, she glanced to her right, relieved when she saw Monica still sound asleep in the other bed. Knowing the other agent was a light sleeper, Scully was confident she hadn't made too much noise during her 'dream,' else Monica would be awake.

Scully took in another deep breath, trying to relax. Though sated from her mental lovemaking with Mulder, Gibson's calls had created a tension in her. She was curious about what the boy wanted. And frightened.

Her fear couldn't diminish the afterglow, however. Her breasts still felt heavy and the moisture that had pooled between her legs was starting to get uncomfortable. Even though there were obvious signs of her recent orgasm, Scully felt empty. There was no glorious ache between her thighs, no indication that she had taken her husband into her body. She was a small woman, and Mulder was no slouch when it came to the size of his...attributes; she always ached a bit after intercourse. She had reveled in it.

She closed her eyes, wondering how he had managed to enter her mind during her fiery dream. Always in the past, she had shut herself in tightly while having the dream, determined to keep her son, who liked to 'wander' when he slept, out. Yet Mulder had managed to slip past her defenses, bringing her away from the horror and into bliss. Had she dropped her shields? Or was he simply that much stronger now? Or was it something else?

"Mama?"

Startled, Scully looked to her left. Will lay on his side in the bed next to her, watching her with sleep-filled but curious eyes, his short red hair sticking up at odd angles. "Where were you?"

"What?" Scully asked. She had read the boy a story before she prepared for bed herself, and he had been fast asleep when she had climbed in next to him, almost positive she would get no sleep herself. But she had fallen asleep. And she had dreamed.

"I looked for you," Will continued. "In my dreams. But I couldn't find you."

Well, that answered the question she had had about whether or not she had dropped her shields. If Will hadn't been able to enter her dreams, then the wall had been intact. Which meant...

"Did you have that dream again?" Will's eyes were huge pools of worry.

"Yes, I did," Scully whispered, refusing to lie to her son. "But it's all right. Your daddy made sure of it."

Will shot up from his pillow. "You talked to Daddy?!"

"Shhhh!" Scully warned, but it was too late. One glance at Monica told Scully the other woman was awake and aware.

"Daddy?" the brunette said softly. "Did one of you talk to Mulder?"

"Mama did!" Will was smiling. If Daddy was 'talking' to Mama again, then things were getting better.

Scully sighed and sat up, looking at Monica. "Yes, I did."

"And?" Monica sat up as well.

"He said it's time to move."

"Today?"

Scully looked at the clock, only a little surprised to see it was a few minutes past five AM. "Today," she confirmed with a nod.

"I'll go wake the boys," Monica said as she slid out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans to cover the boxers she had worn to bed along with an oversized T-shirt.

In less than thirty minutes, everyone was dressed and ready. Byers, Frohike, and Doggett each carried a shoulder bag containing darts filled with snake oil, and Langly carried a bag full of explosives. Scully prepared her own bag and ammo, as well as several shotguns, all wrapped together in a tarp for the moment; it wouldn't do for the other motel guests to see them leaving the room armed to the teeth. Tucked at the small of her back, in its usual place, was her gun (in case any humans got in the way) and in the right hip pocket of her khaki-colored jeans she carried another gift from one of Mulder's secret drops from a month ago, a small cylindrical object with a hidden stiletto-like blade.

Skinner and Monica were to stay with Will, but they wouldn't be excluded from the events of the day, Scully was sure. She hated the idea of including her son in what was to come, and the others weren't happy with it either, but she had a strong feeling Will's participation was necessary if victory was to be theirs.

The sun was just beginning to clear the horizon when the five 'commandos' climbed into two cars and headed out into the Arizona desert.

*****

The Sonora Desert

Southwest of Tucson, Arizona

'You would think that after more than a little time with the X-Files you would get used to stuff like this,' John Doggett told himself silently. However, how did one get used to setting off into the unknown with three computer geeks and one very determined mother, all of them loaded to the gills with weapons and remote controlled-bombs? Simple. You

didn't.

You grit your teeth, obeyed orders, and prayed you would all see another sunset.

They had followed a dirt road through rocks and huge Saguaro cacti to a desolate location just two miles north of El Creyente, their matching khaki clothing blending in with the surrounding desert. It was hot... again... and the heat was the reason they were able to do this during the day instead of waiting for nightfall; nobody with any brains would be out in the middle of the desert at midday in 100 plus temperatures without a very good reason.

Doggett had followed Dana and the others away from their vehicles and into the Saguaro forest, understanding immediately why Dana had insisted on bringing plenty of water. The mile and one-half hike across the rugged, deadly terrain would have been demanding on a cool day. Today, it had been hell.

They had made it, however. Sweaty and nervous, they had found the bunker hidden in a small mountain of rocks that their memorized plans of the base had told them existed. It

was never used, but most of the inhabitants of the base, including the children, knew of its existence. It was here for emergencies, for quick escapes into the desert where ships would find them later.

Glancing nervously at his companions, Byers knelt down next to the door in the bunker and pulled out his laptop. He hooked the small computer up to a panel next to the door and prepared to hack into the base's computer in order to convince it to open the door for them.

Doggett began to pace. And sweat. What little shade there was Byers was sitting in and the sun was getting hotter by the moment. He climbed up the incline next to the bunker and raised his hand to shield his eyes, looking around anxiously for signs of life. Dana joined him a moment later.

"You should rest. It's not going to be much cooler in there, you know." Her voice was quiet. Calm. If he didn't know any better, he would think she was giving him directions to the local mall.

He looked down at her. She had plaited her sunset hair tightly to her scalp in a French braid, but a few strands had escaped during the hike out here. Her face was slightly flushed and he suddenly realized how much the sun must affect her skin. "Are you wearing sunblock?" he demanded.

She grinned. "That's all you're worried about?" she asked with a short laugh. "Yes, Agent Doggett, I'm wearing sunblock. Are you?"

He shook his head. He hadn't even considered it. "I don't burn," he told her as an excuse.

"Okay," she told him, her smile softening. "Sure." She looked off toward the horizon, squinting to protect her eyes from the glare. They had all been wearing sunglasses, but

both she and Byers had taken theirs off after arriving at the bunker. "Are you ready for this, John?"

"I'm always ready, Agent Mulder," he told her with a smirk. "Are you?"

"I'm ready for this to be over," Dana said softly. "I'm ready for my husband to come home." She smiled humorlessly. "I'm ready for things to get back to normal."

"Normal?" Doggett asked. "Since when has your life ever been normal since you've known Fox Mulder?"

She grinned again. "Point." She looked at him, her gaze intense. "You know what I mean, though. We aren't meant to be apart. Together we were strong. Together we were unstoppable. Together we were..."

He waited, but when she didn't continue, he pressed her. "Together you were...?"

"Whole."

Doggett stilled at her word, suddenly overwhelmed at the meaning of it. He had never known anyone or loved anyone so much so as to feel incomplete without them. How it must hurt to not be together with that person. And yet, how empty it was to not even have a chance to know someone like that. The closest he had ever come to that kind of love was with Luke, and he knew a part of his heart had died along with his son, but he carried on. Like a man without a limb, it hurt and he felt the missing part of himself immensely, but he still lived.

He wondered if Mulder and Scully could continue on without at least the hope of being together again. He wondered if it would even matter after today, if they would even be alive at the end of it.

"Hey! I got it!" Byers' voice floated up from the door of the bunker, and both Doggett and Dana turned to look down the hill.

Doggett glanced at his companion and realized for the first time that she was trembling, but the look in her eye when she turned to him was breathtaking. "Ready?"

He remembered the moment yesterday when he had convinced himself that he didn't owe these people anything. Oh, how wrong he had been.

"Ready," he said with a nod, and together they joined the Gunmen and entered El Creyente through its back door.

*****

El Creyente Base - Subterranean Level Four

Mulder walked quietly through the hallway of the underground complex, trying his best to look calm and unruffled, knowing if he was caught, suspicions would be aroused no matter what his position in the chain of command here. He never entered the Grays' territory without being invited first, and because of the strength of their telepathic connection a lie telling them he was heading for a meeting with one of them would quickly be exposed.

He had his mind open just enough that he could sense the presence of a Gray or a human coming near him, and was able to duck into side corridors to avoid them. However, he couldn't sense the Replicants, and unlike any human occupants of the base, they moved throughout the subterranean levels whenever they pleased. His nerves were shot, and Gibson's pronouncement that morning hadn't helped at all.

Should he trust the kid? Could he? It was natural to want to trust him; most people inherently trusted the goodness of mankind, though that trust was often diminished or destroyed by life's struggles and disappointments. Mulder's ability to trust hadn't been destroyed entirely, but it was still very hard for him to overcome his paranoia and doubts. Who could blame him?

Gibson didn't. Which is why the boy hadn't asked anything more than that Mulder believe him. He hadn't asked what Mulder and his friends had planned and he hadn't tried delving into Mulder's mind to find out himself. He simply wanted to help in any way he could, even if it meant staying out of the way.

Mulder wanted to believe the boy badly. He wanted to believe Gibson was a good kid at heart who had faced fear and mistrust his whole life from not only his human contacts but

alien ones as well. He had been abused, both mentally and physically by the Consortium, but he had bounced back remarkably well. Or had he?

Mulder couldn't dwell on these questions. At that moment, Gibson was acting surprised and delighted by the party all the children had put together in honor of his birthday. And that's where he had told Mulder he would stay until he was needed: with the children. It was the best place for him, Mulder knew. If there was one sure thing about Gibson, it was that he loved the children and would never intentionally harm them.

Mulder felt the impressions of a human mind in the corridor in front of him. He backtracked quickly to a side hallway and ducked into it. He frowned as he sensed the nervousness and excitement coming from the person he was hiding from. Not to mention the subversive feelings. Scully? No, he would know without a doubt when Scully came into his presence. Yet, it had to be someone...

Without another thought, he stepped out of hiding and placed himself directly in Special Agent John Doggett's path.

"Jesus, Mulder!" the man said with a grimace, stopping abruptly and breathing hard. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, staring at Mulder intently. "It is you? Right?"

"None other," Mulder said with a smirk. "I'm surprised you guys made it this early," he said, though he really wasn't. Organization had never been a problem for Scully. "In fact,

you're right on time." He glanced behind the agent. "Where are Scully and the others?"

"We split up after we got in. We tried to keep radio contact," he continued, tapping the headset he was wearing. "But they must not work down here."

"Even if they had, any communications you guys shared would have been monitored." Mulder turned and headed up the hallway where Doggett had come from, intent on his

destination.

"Byers said--"

"Byers was wrong," Mulder interrupted Doggett. "I never did get them all the info on the communications systems in this place. Nothing the Gunmen have can pass under their radar."

"Nice of you to tell us this beforehand," Doggett said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. He was following Mulder without question, but he wasn't going to make any partnership between them easy. He never had.

"Wouldn't have mattered," Mulder murmured, knowing Doggett could still hear him in the quiet corridor. "It isn't as if they don't already know you're here."

Doggett stopped in his tracks and Mulder felt the anger of the man's mind seep into his own. He stopped as well and turned to look at the agent.

"You bastard," Doggett said softly, venom in his voice. "You set us up."

Mulder felt the corners of his mouth tilt up. "Now this is interesting. I thought I was the paranoid one."

"You just said..."

"That the Grays know you're here," Mulder finished. "They can sense you, Agent Doggett. A handful of them are so attuned to the human mind, they can sniff one out from miles

away if necessary. They don't know who you are, I'm sure," he continued. "But they know you don't belong here."

Real panic flashed in Doggett's eyes. "The others!" he exclaimed. "Scully!"

"They're not in any more danger than we are, Agent Doggett," Mulder said stiffly. "I'm assuming you all knew the risks involved in this venture."

Doggett calmed and took a deep breath. "What do we do?"

Mulder glanced at the bag slung over Doggett's shoulder and the shotgun strapped to his back. "Start planting those," he said, nodding toward the bag, which he knew must carry

explosives. "The Grays can only sense living beings. They have no way of finding those outside of physically searching for them, and they have to know they exist to do that."

"No bomb sniffing dogs?" Doggett asked, and Mulder was actually relieved to hear the sarcasm back in the man's voice.

"They hate dogs."

"Why?"

"Because dogs hate them."

"Always knew I liked dogs," Doggett mumbled.

"You ready to continue on, Agent?" Mulder asked in the same tone he used on the soldiers in the base above.

"Yeah," Doggett responded. "But don't even think I'm gonna start calling you 'sir'."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Mulder said with a smile. Then he turned back up the corridor, where he knew the only route to the viral storage chambers lay. "Let's go."

*****

El Creyente Base - Subterranean Level Two

Dana Mulder inched her way further into the tight space between the wall and the set of storage containers lined up along the back part of the room she was hiding in. Minutes before, she had rounded a corner and nearly run straight in the path of what remained of Gene Crane and Knowle Rohrer. She had ducked back around the corner quickly, but she

guessed they had seen some movement from her escape because they had followed her into the room she had chosen to hide in.

She could hear them moving about in front of the huge, barrel-like storage bins and held her breath, not daring to move a muscle. The 'men' moved cautiously about the room, obviously not sure about what they were looking for, and for that, Scully was glad, but she wasn't safe yet.

Finally, they left. Scully waited another minute before sliding her body back out into the open. She knew that their superior hearing and eyesight could have been her downfall, but this was the third time since she had entered the base that she had narrowly avoided getting caught. 'Somebody must be on my side,' she thought ruefully as she cautiously left

the room and continued on her journey toward the upper levels. She glanced upward as she thought this, smiling slightly. Suddenly, she had a thought. Turning back the way she had come, she swung the bag of explosives off her shoulder and took one of the deadly little objects out. She squeezed her way back into her former hiding place, bared the adhesive from the back of the unit, and placed it firmly against the wall. When she was sure it would stay, she flicked the 'arm' switch, causing a red light to blink steadily on the surface of the unit. It was ready. The push of one button on the remote would set the little bomb off, causing one hell of a big explosion. 'Proof that size doesn't matter,' Scully thought with a grin.

Then she was on her way again. She found a stairwell and made her way upward, stopping every now and then to place and arm another explosive. Another flight of metal stairs and she was there. Using the code Mulder had sent them weeks ago, she opened the door that led from the lower levels to the main base.

The change in scenery was dramatic to say the least. She left the hot and humid alien environment with its dim lighting and entered the bright, cool and almost too dry corridors of the base. The sterile white-tiled floors were far different than the rough, grey concrete and metal down below. It also meant more people, therefore more chances to get caught.

She walked along the hallway, her soft-soled tennis shoes barely making a sound, until she came to a doorway with a window in it. Glancing through the window, she confirmed that the room was unoccupied and opened the door. She didn't enter; she simple threw her now empty shoulder bag inside and closed it behind her. She then continued forward.

Carefully rounding a corner, Scully found herself exactly where the memorized plans of the base told her she'd be. The hallway ahead of her was wider than the one she had come

from. Chairs sat along one wall, in between two doors, and a table with a few magazines, all either military or automobile related, were scattered over its top. Along the opposite wall were a water fountain and two vending machines, one for soda and one for snacks. Scully had reached the waiting area for the infirmary, which lay behind the two doors.

Slowly, she moved past the doors, knowing that she was more likely to run into somebody here than almost any place else on the base at this time of the day with a birthday bash

going on elsewhere. She eased the two shotguns she was carrying off her shoulder and set them behind the pop machine, stock down, praying they wouldn't be discovered. Whoever looked behind vending machines?

Taking a deep breath, Scully headed for the opposite side of the compound, not at all concerned with getting caught anymore. She felt almost naked without the pack or the

shotguns, but she still had her service revolver.

And the stiletto.

Now, it was time to go crash the party.

*****

El Creyente Base - Main Gate

William had lied.

Since the time he was old enough to understand what a lie was, William had learned that it was wrong to do it. Both his parents, his Godparents and others in his acquaintance had told him so. He had always abided by the rules and been unwaveringly honest. If he felt ill, he said so. If he was hungry, he told whoever was in charge of feeding him. If he was scared, he didn't lie to his mother and say he wasn't, nor did he lie to himself about the feeling. To the best of his knowledge, he had never knowingly lied.

Until today.

It wasn't a tiny white lie, either, but a big one. One that could get himself and the two people he had lied to in very big trouble. Yet, he couldn't really regret it. After all, one of the many things his father had taught him in those mental lessons from months ago was that he was to trust his instincts. After finding out what 'instincts' were, William had agreed. Now he was putting that lesson into practice, but in order to do so, he had been forced to lie.

He sat quietly in his car seat, watching the two people in front of him cast worried glances back toward him and at each other. He hoped he wasn't about to get these two people hurt. Not only did he care about them too much to want to hurt them, but they were the people that had long ago been charged with the responsibility of raising him should something happen to his real parents. If front of God and several earthly witnesses, they had promised to do this. So, what would happen if they were hurt and couldn't take care of him and his parents never came home?

'That isn't going to happen,' a voice said in his head. His conscious, he guessed, though he had never really understood what that was. An inner person of some sort? A dead person

communicating with him from beyond the grave? God?

He sighed heavily and blinked back tears. Nothing was going to happen to either his parents or his Godparents. He knew this just as surely as he knew he had to be at El Creyente. He didn't know how, but he didn't ask, either. He just obeyed his instincts. Which was why Aunt Monica and Uncle Walter were now driving him directly to the front gate of the alien controlled military base.

Will had told them Mulder had contacted him telepathically and that he wanted them to bring William to the base. They had not wanted to bring him, but Dana had told them earlier that he might be needed to talk to the children, so they hadn't questioned William's 'order.' The fact was, William had received no such directions from his father or anyone. He had simply known he had to go, and the only way Monica and Walter would take him was if he lied.

The guard at the gate was human, of that Will was sure, but the man behind him, his soulless eyes watching them with suspicion, was not. Nor was he alien. He was one of the

zombies - replicants, his father called them. One of the beings whose sole purpose was to insure he and the other children survived unharmed. He had heard that a group of these - things - had witnessed his birth. It was a good thing he couldn't remember back that far.

The human guard came up to the driver's side window of the car, his angry glare a standard for military men on guard duty. "Are you folks lost?" he asked, his polite inquiry at odds with his expression.

"No," Walter said, his voice solid and commanding. "We're here to see the General."

The soldier's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, the General does not have any appointments today, and no one is allowed on base without an appointment."

"Listen, Corporal," Walter continued. "You call him and tell him William Mulder is here to see him. He'll let us through."

The man shook his head. "No can do, sir. I can't --"

"Corporal," the 'man' still at the guard station said. "Let them through. I'll notify the General." He already had his hand on the telephone.

The young soldier looked back at his fellow guard, who obviously outranked him. "Sir?"

"The General had been expecting William Mulder... for a very long time."

Still wearing a look of confusion, the Corporal stepped back from the car. Nervously, he nodded his head. "Go straight. The main doors are clearly marked." The other man pressed a button to allow the gate to swing upward and Walter accelerated slowly, leaving the guards behind.

Monica took a deep breath and looked back at William. "You weren't using some Jedi mind trick on that other guard, were you?" Her voice was teasing, but William sensed the fear

behind it.

"Not even a Jedi could read that man's mind," Will told her seriously. "Nobody can."

"The other guard was a replicant?" Monica asked, her eyes wide.

William nodded.

Monica swallowed nervously and looked straight ahead. "Well, keeping with the theme, why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Walter just grunted in response, and Will knew his mind was focused on what was ahead, not on humor. A former soldier himself, Walter Skinner was preparing for battle.

Will could just barely see the main building as they drove closer to it, and he began to concentrate on it as Monica continued to talk. "Why are there no soldiers out here?"

"Maybe it's too hot," Walter said in response. "It is almost noon."

"Maybe," Monica replied, but she didn't sound convinced.

"Most of them are at a party of some kind," Will said. "That's the distraction daddy set up."

Monica glanced back at him. "Can you sense them?"

William nodded. "Uh-huh. And --" William froze as he felt the distinct impressions of other telepaths. Including one in particular. "Whoa."

*Welcome, William,* the voice in his head told him. *It's a pleasure to finally meet you.*

*Are you Gibson?*

*Yes. The children and I have been waiting a long time to see you, William. What a wonderful birthday surprise.*

The children? Yes. There they were. Twelve other telepaths, all of varying strengths and abilities. All excited by his eminent arrival.

And on the outer edges of his consciousness, quietly trying to hide, were other minds. Minds full of wonder. Of anxiousness.

Minds full of fear.

*****

Subterranean Lab Number 4

"So, this is the alien virus," John Doggett said softly.

Mulder heard him and glanced back down toward the other man as he continued up the ladder to the top of the viral chamber, which stood at least ten feet high. This was the fourth and final lab they had entered, but the huge vats containing the virus were encased with metal, so Doggett had yet to see the black oil the viral entity used to transport itself. He found what Doggett was looking at and realized the agent was far too close to the oil, sitting stagnant in a petri dish, for comfort.

"Doggett!" he called, keeping his voice soft, but ensuring the seriousness of the situation was audible. "I wouldn't get any closer to that, if I were you."

Without looking at him, the other man slowly backed away from the table. "It's not moving or anything," he said cautiously.

"Doesn't matter," Mulder responded. "You get close enough, it'll move. Fast."

Doggett nodded his head and headed for the vat next to the one Mulder was climbing. "So, tell me again why we're putting the explosives at the top and not the bottom."

"We put them at the bottom, and we'll create a huge hole for the virus to escape from. Exploding the top ensures that the oil is set on fire and burns steadily, without it having a

chance to escape."

"And the fire will kill it?" Doggett had reached the top of his vat and was setting the explosive.

"Not the virus itself, but its medium, its oil, will be eaten away. And without that to protect it, the virus will die." Mulder set his bomb and began climbing down the ladder. "Unless it finds another host, like a human or other animal, of course."

"Oh, of course," Doggett responded sarcastically, descending his own ladder. "But anything living that might become a host will be killed by the explosions from above. Right?"

"Bingo."

Without any more words, Doggett and Mulder continued with their job, making sure every vat was sabotaged. Then Mulder carefully placed and set his last explosive next to the petri dish with the oil that Doggett had been observing earlier.

"Is this all of it?" Doggett asked quietly. "I mean, there aren't some secret labs elsewhere in the world, are there?"

"God, I hope not," Mulder said vehemently. He shook his head. "I would have heard something by now if there was."

"I hope you're right," Doggett said, his ice blue eyes boring into Mulder's.

"Let's go," Mulder said in response. "Scully is probably with the children by now. We need to make sure everybody important is up top before we blow this thing."

"Everybody important?" Doggett repeated with a wry twist to his lips. "I hope that includes me."

"Of course, it does," Mulder said with a grin. "Scully would kill me if I ever let anything happen to you."

"Ditto," Doggett said with a grin of his own.

The two men headed for the door and carefully eased into the dark hallway beyond, Mulder in the lead. He was halfway up the corridor toward the metal staircase that lead upward when he felt it.

He stopped short, so completely unnerved by what he felt that he didn't even feel Doggett narrowly avoid running into his back. He stared at the floor, concentrating.

"Mulder, what's wrong?" Doggett's voice was as worried as Mulder had ever heard it.

He looked up at the agent. "We've got to get up there ASAP."

"Is Dana in trouble?"

Mulder shook his head. "Not any more trouble than we all are. It looks like things are moving a bit faster than anticipated."

"What do you mean?"

"William's here."

*****

El Creyente - Interrogation Room One

Scully sat quietly in her chair in the bare, grey room, her hands folded carefully in her lap, her eyes never leaving the soldiers who stood guard at the door. She and her companions hadn't been handcuffed, nor had they been searched. When asked, she had willingly handed over her gun, but she had kept mute about the little weapon in her pocket. Not even the guys knew she had that little surprise.

She had been stopped by four armed men about twenty minutes ago just outside the main cafeteria, where she knew Gibson's party was taking place. The men had brought her here, no questions asked, where she had proceeded to wait for her companions. One by one, starting with Frohike, then Byers, and then Langly, they had arrived. The three men had also dumped their shoulder bags and hidden their shotguns and had given themselves up without argument to the soldiers. All four of them had been 'captured' within ten minutes of each other.

So where was Doggett? Scully tried not to let herself worry about the fact that one of their team members was missing. He should have been finished with his own sabotage by now and have allowed himself to be taken prisoner as they had. Unless...

Her eyes shifted to the door. What if Doggett had found Mulder? What if Mulder had led him to the viral chambers, deep beneath them, and gotten him to help set up explosives down there? Mulder had not wanted any of them to go down there alone; he had been adamant about that in most of the covert information he had sent. However, if he had run into Doggett on his way down, it was quite possible Mulder had brought the agent down into the depths with him. It was a likely excuse for Doggett's absence and a much better one than any alternative Scully could come up with, all of which ending with Doggett wounded or dead.

Suddenly the door opened, and a tall, grey-haired general walked through. The General himself, Scully knew, and her whole body tensed. The man walked slowly past the four of

them, hands behind his back, observing them as if he was observing his troops. He finally stopped in front of Scully.

"Dana Scully, I presume?" he asked in a gravely voice.

"Mulder," Scully corrected automatically.

The General's eyebrows rose, and a quirk appeared in the corner of his mouth. "Please accept my apology," he said in response. "I forget how arcane you all are, what with your

marriages and name changes and bonding. It's all quite sickening, really." He turned away from her and strolled to the other side of the room.

So, he wasn't going to pretend he was human. Scully was at once relieved and dismayed by this fact. She in no way wanted to treat this thing as a human being, but she didn't like the fact that the General either knew she knew the truth or didn't care if she knew. Both choices didn't bode well for her future well-being.

"Where's Mulder?" she asked, determined to continue with the plan.

"That, my dear Dana, is a very good question." The General faced her once more, his eyes wide in mock confusion. Boy, did he have human mannerisms down pat. "I'll find him for you if you tell me where the others are."

"Others?" Scully asked. "What others?"

The General frowned, his face becoming angry, though she knew he really felt no such emotion. "You didn't come to Arizona alone, the four of you. There were others. Where are they?" He took a menacing step closer. "Are they here as well?"

Scully shrugged. "I couldn't tell you," she said almost wistfully. "They didn't tell me their plans."

"You're lying."

"Prove it."

The silence that followed Scully's dare was as taut as piano wire, and it even seemed to make the General nervous. He shuffled his feet, and Scully realized with some surprise

that he had been trying to read her mind. She didn't even feel the probe of his thoughts, so strong were her walls, and it was making him really and truly scared. She smiled, hoping he didn't give up on her and try one of the Gunmen next. Their walls were strong, but she didn't know if they could hold up against this...thing.

The door opened once more, and a young female soldier entered. "Sir, the guard station just called in. They are sending some visitors your way, they didn't tell me who. I--"

The woman quieted and stared wide-eyed at the General. Scully brought her attention back to the man, whose face had gone pasty white. His eyes flashed toward her, and for the first time she recognized real emotion in them. She read surprise, awe, and fear.

She turned to her companions, and they looked back at her, curiosity written all over their faces. What in the world could be causing this alien General to look this way? Then suddenly, Scully knew. Nearby, not more than two hundred feet beyond the bare grey walls of this room, she felt her son.

She shot another look at the General. It was William's presence that was making this creature so fearful. William. Who should have been safe in Tucson with Skinner and Monica. However, the General didn't know this, and Scully decided then and there that he didn't need to know. If there was one thing that Scully had learned from her years working with Fox Mulder on the X-Files, it was how to improvise.

"Surprise," she said with another smile.

*****

El Creyente - Main Cafeteria

William was overwhelmed with emotions, and most of them weren't even his.

Uncle Walter was carrying him on his hip, and Aunt Monica was walking closely beside them, her hand on Will's back. He was grateful for the contact from both of them, but his grip on Walter's shirt never relaxed as they were led by a handful of guards into the large room where Gibson's party was being held.

Twelve children, babies really, awaited him there, their eyes wide, their faces smiling. Some were older than him, but most were younger. Three of them couldn't even walk yet,

but they sat on the floor watching him with joy. Gibson was kneeling on the floor next to the group, his face unsmiling, but his mind just as joyful as the others. At least, Will thought that was his mind. They were all 'talking' at once, and he couldn't sort it all out in his head. He wasn't sure who was 'saying' or feeling what, and it scared him.

He felt the fear grow. Tears demanded to be released, so he bit his bottom lip in an effort to stop them. He took a deep breath and shouted out in his head, *Daddy!* All noise, both audible and mental, stopped. Will realized he had yelled out loud, not just in his head. He was too confused. Everyone in the room was startled, and even the soldiers and staff who had been attending the party stopped still.

*William.*

Will relaxed, the familiar, comforting presence of his father entering his mind.

*Remember what I taught you, about crowds and how to block out what you don't need to hear?* His father's mind nudged a memory, and William closed his eyes and concentrated on that memory.

*William?* It wasn't his father's voice this time. It was Gibson. He was concerned.

Will opened his eyes and looked across the room toward the young man who had been the first 'miracle child.' Like all these children, he was special, but he wasn't one of them. Not really. He hadn't been 'created,' even if by accident. He had simply been born abnormal, without any alien influence. How? Why?

*I'm okay,* he told the boy, then he looked at Walter and Monica, who were watching him with fear in their eyes. "I'm okay," he repeated out loud. "Down," he told the man holding

him, and Walter obligingly set the boy on his own two feet. William was about to walk toward the others when more people entered the room. Only they weren't people. He turned to face the General and his guard.

"You're really here," the General said, his voice rough. "You're finally here."

William felt the power he had over this creature almost immediately, just as he now felt the power he had over the children behind him. It was akin to worship. His heart beat faster, and his breathing quickened as well. 'So, this is what it's like,' he thought, working hard at blocking himself from those around him. 'This is what He felt like.'

*Watch it there, Buddy.*

William jerked. His father. He couldn't block his father.

*And with a little luck, you never will be able to.*

*Daddy, what do I do?*

*You do what they want you to do,* he said, his mind calm. *You lead them.*

*But--*

*You lead them by following your heart and soul, not your ego.*

*I don't know if I can.*

*Believe me, I know the feeling.* His father's words echoed his wry thoughts. *You can, Will. Just don't be afraid to ask for some help.* He paused. *And don't you dare get a God

complex.*

William didn't know what that was, but he suspected it was sort of what he had been feeling earlier when his father had interrupted his thoughts. Thoughts that had been against everything his parents had taught him.

*Help me, Daddy,* he said. *Help me get them out of here.* That was what he was here to do, he now knew. That was his job. His parents and the others would do the rest.

*Deal,* his father told him. *Wait a few minutes, and you'll get your chance. In the meantime, get to know these kids. I have a feeling you all will be very important to each other for the rest of your lives.*

William cast a glance at the General, then ignored him and walked toward the children.

*****

El Creyente - Interrogation Room One

Doggett was led into a small room by two of the guards and felt his body nearly wilt with relief when he saw his fellow 'commandos' already there. The Gunmen were all seated; Frohike had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, Langly sat with one ankle on his opposite knee and his foot bobbing restlessly, while Byers sat stiffly with both feet planted firmly on the floor and his arms crossed over his chest. They all looked up at his entrance, including the fiery red-head pacing in the back of the room.

His escort left, but two guards stood stoically at the door, watching him with wary eyes. Dana rushed over to him, oblivious to the guards. "Where have you been?"

"I ran into an old friend," he told her, lowering both his head and his voice.

She blinked once, then asked, "Where is this 'old friend' now?"

"We parted company when we left the 'basement'." He had no idea if all these metaphors where necessary, but better to be safe than sorry.

Dana took a deep breath and stepped back. "He probably went after Will and the children."

"I guess," Doggett said with a shrug. He didn't ask where Mulder was going after they left the lower levels. The man had simply told him to go ahead with the plan, which Doggett had done. He had hidden his shot-gun, dumped his shoulder bag, and had wandered around until two MPs had picked him up and brought him here. For a secret base, it sure wasn't heavily manned. "Has anyone spoken to you guys yet?"

"Yeah," Dana told him. "The General himself was just here."

"General?"

"The Big Kahuna," Langly interjected. "The head alien honcho."

Doggett gave him a smirk. "You mean to tell me you all met an alien?"

"Well, he didn't look like an alien," Langly told him. "But we could tell he wasn't human just by the look in his eye."

Doggett snorted his disbelief. "What did he say?"

"Not much, really," Frohike said. "He kinda got interrupted."

"What do you mean?"

"He left kind of suddenly," Frohike continued.

"We figure he realized William was here," Byers added.

"Hmmm..." Doggett nodded, glancing at the guards once more. They were obviously listening, but they were not reacting. "So now what? Do we just wait around here?" He looked at Dana.

She was about to shrug in response when she suddenly stopped, her eyes becoming unfocused. A small smile appeared on her face. "Kaboom," she whispered.

"What?" Doggett asked, suddenly fearing for his former partners sanity.

"Kaboom," Dana repeated.

"What the hell does that mean?" Doggett asked.

"It means the word has been given," she told him, smiling broadly now.

"By whom?"

"Mulder."

"Mulder just talked to you?"

Dana nodded, then turned to the guys. "It's now or never."

Frohike grinned back at her. "We're ready, Cutie Pie."

Dana stiffened, then she began to advance menacingly on Frohike. "If you call me Cutie Pie one more time, Short Stuff--"

"Hey!" the hacker cried, standing from his seated position. "Who are you calling short, Tinker Bell?!"

"You little twirp!" Dana yelled back, shoving him back into his chair. "Who do you think you are?"

"Hey!" One of the guards finally reacted to the commotion and moved forward to stand next to Doggett, who stood in shock as he watched the proceedings in front of him.

"What?!" both Dana and Frohike shouted, turning to face the guard.

"Chill out," the guard said with a smirk, proving he was human inside and out.

Doggett's brain finally caught up with the action surrounding him. Without another thought, he reached for the guard's rifle, pulling it out of the shocked man's hands and

tossing it to Dana. He then grabbed the pistol, which the guard had just pulled from his holster, as well. He pointed it at the soldier. "Sorry, pal."

"Not as sorry as you'll be," said the other guard, his rifle up and pointed at Dana, who was aiming her newly acquired weapon back at him.

Dana lowered her rifle, narrowing her eyes at the other MP. "Where are you from, soldier?"

The guard just smirked.

"That's what I thought," Dana said with a smile. Her right hand, which was blocked from the guard's view by her lowered weapon, was slowly reaching into her hip pocket. "I think

it's time you go home, don't you?"

The man inched forward, never taking his eyes off Dana. She never took her eyes off him. He was so intent on her, he didn't see her pull the cylindrical object out of her pocket. But he heard the hiss as she pressed the button to release the stiletto. He smiled. "That can't kill me."

"I know," she said calmly. "But what I put on the blade can." Before she had even finished uttering the words, she shoved the blade forward, ducking under the man's raised rifle, and impaled it in the man's thigh. The guard fell back, and his companion rushed forward to help him. Doggett cocked the pistol in his hands and the young man stopped in his tracks, watching helplessly as his fellow soldier dropped his rifle in pain and fell back against the wall by the door.

Dana immediately grabbed up the other rifle, then backed away from the man flailing in front of her, obviously in more pain than a stab wound to the thigh would cause. His skin turned pale. Moisture appeared on his upper lip. His body began to convulse. His flesh turned silver, then black, and right there, before their eyes, he disintegrated.

Even the remaining soldier stood in shocked silence.

"Well, I guess we know it works," Dana said quietly.

"You put snake oil on the stiletto," Doggett said.

She sighed. "Yep."

"Whoa," Langly whispered.

Dana turned to Frohike. "Well?"

The little man propped a booted foot on one of the chairs, pulled up his pant leg, and pulled out a remote. He showed it to Dana. "Well?" he repeated.

"Do it."

Frohike nodded, flipped a switch on the remote, then took a deep breath and pressed three buttons, one after the other.

He looked at Dana once more, an evil glint in his eye. "Kaboom!"

*****

El Creyente Base - Main Cafeteria

Mulder had just entered the cafeteria when he felt the first explosion. The bombs had all been set to go off at different intervals, some only seconds after the remote was activated, some with a delayed time of up to ten minutes. It had taken longer than he had expected after he had 'told' Scully to start, but he figured she, Frohike and the others had had to work around their guards. Mulder hadn't asked how they planned to do this; he long ago learned to trust Scully's judgment when it came situations like this.

'As if we've ever been in a situation like this,' he thought to himself, then continued through the door to the cafeteria. The floor shook slightly and the glass that enclosed the coolers off to the side of the dining area rattled. The few soldiers that hadn't gone back to their posts after William's arrival and the General's departure jumped to attention immediately, their faces full of worry and confusion.

"What is that?" Mulder heard one of them ask. "An earthquake?"

"Daddy!"

William's shout drew everyone's attention to the boy. He stood from where he had been sitting on the floor with the other children and ran toward him. Mulder felt his heart leap in glorious anticipation; he was about to hold his son for the first time in more than a year.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and alarms began sounding. The replicants that had been guarding the children rushed toward them, and the human soldiers raced past Mulder and out the door. William stopped in his tracks as Billy Miles stepped in front of him, preventing him from reaching his father.

"What's going on?" Gibson shouted above the noise.

"The base in under attack," Billy told him. The floor shook again as another explosion occurred beneath them. Billy cast an angry look at Mulder. "We must protect the children."

"I agree," Mulder told him vehemently. He looked over toward a table set towards the back of the room. Monica and Skinner sat there, guarded by three heavily armed MPs, trying desperately to appear as if they weren't afraid. Skinner frowned at him, and Mulder realized his old boss and friend wasn't sure if he could be trusted. Mulder couldn't blame the man for feeling that way, but it still hurt. "I want you to take the children out of here," he told Billy, still looking at Skinner.

"We'll use the old bunker door," Billy told him.

"No!" Mulder turned toward the replicant. Leaving via the bunker door, the same door Scully and the others had used to get in, would take them right into the inferno he knew was now burning beneath them. "You'll get them out through the main entrance." To get to the main entrance they would need to pass through the main lobby... exactly where Mulder

wanted them to be. "Take them with you," he said, pointing at Skinner and Reyes.

Billy looked as if he wanted to object, but then he nodded. He and the three replicants with him gathered the children, Monica and Skinner and headed for the door.

"Daddy?" William obviously didn't want to go with them.

"Go on, Will," Mulder said. "I'll be right behind you."

Mulder could tell his son knew he was lying. "You're going to find mom?" he asked.

Mulder simply nodded, not trusting his emotions enough to lie to his son again.

Marita suddenly rushed into the room. She cast a panicked look at Mulder, then hurried over to take her daughter from the arms of one of the replicants. She looked at Mulder

again, her eyes questioning.

"Go with them," he told her.

"Susan?" she asked.

"I'll find her," Mulder said. While he had not told his comrades what the plan was, he had promised them he would get them out with their children.

Monica suddenly shoved herself away from her guard. "I'll go with you." She moved toward Mulder.

"No." Billy said firmly.

"I can help Mulder," Monica argued.

"You are a prisoner, and you'll start acting like one."

"I am not a prisoner!" Monica argued. "I brought Mulder, and you, William. I came here to help." Though she was telling the absolute truth, she somehow made it sound as if she was

on the side of the Grays.

"Monica!" Skinner said in a hard voice. She ignored him, her eyes pleading with Mulder's.

Mulder had no idea why she wanted to come with him; it wasn't a part of the original plan. She was supposed to stay with the children. But with Marita here, Skinner had help, and Mulder was almost positive Gibson was truly on their side as well.

"She can come," Mulder said softly. Billy still heard him over the sound of the alarms. Though the replicant frowned, he didn't argue. Monica walked forward to stand next to Mulder. "Go," Mulder told the group of children, replicants and humans. "Get the hell out of here."

*****

Scully sat as still as possible, watching from her hiding place on the balcony as soldiers ran about in the courtyard of the lobby beneath her. Some were evacuating, some were trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. They were disorganized and frightened, and there was nothing the General could do to calm them.

The grey-haired man had appeared only a short time ago, slightly distraught and confused looking. She knew that William's arrival had done that to him, and she was pleased that it would benefit them, even if it hadn't been a part of the plan. One of the soldiers said something to him, and he began to panic. Scully wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it for herself.

He turned suddenly as a large group of people entered the lobby: the children and their escorts. "Where are you going?!" he demanded.

Gibson stepped forward. "Mulder told us to evacuate the children. The base is under attack."

"I know that!" the General yelled. Many of the soldiers and even a few of the replicants looked shocked, never having seen their commander out of control like this. "Where is Mulder?" he demanded.

"He went to look for Dr. Donahue," Billy told him, giving no indication that the woman he was speaking of so formally used to be his wife...in another life.

A large explosion caused the room to shake wildly, and Scully looked across the way to where Doggett was hiding; the balcony made a half circle around the courtyard, and she, Doggett and the Gunmen where all re-armed and ready to cover the entire lobby. His ice blue eyes met hers. That explosion had been too close.

Apparently, the General thought so too. "Go! Get them out of here." He turned on his heel and headed for the hall that lead back to the cafeteria.

Still holding Doggett's gaze, Scully stood from her hiding place on the balcony and aimed her shotgun down.

*****

William sensed his mother's presence only moments before the shooting started. He had no idea what the 'plan' was, but he knew from her thought patterns what he needed to do.

*Everyone! Get down!* he shouted. Gibson and the children immediately dropped down to lay flat on the floor. Little Rebecca even managed to pull her mother down with her as she

dived out of Marita's arms toward the floor. William saw R.J. grab Uncle Walter's hand and drag him down. Both adults were confused but obeyed the children's unspoken demands.

The replicants, still standing, watched them in bafflement.

Five shooters. Four replicants. It was over in seconds. William stood first, then Walter. Both stood in astonishment, staring down at the quickly disintegrating bodies of their former guards.

A half dozen soldiers standing near the front doors raised their rifles toward the assassins on the balcony. William knew the men were going to shoot his mother and the others. He couldn't let that happen. "No!" he shouted. He envisioned himself pulling the weapons out of the hands of the soldiers, but he was not nearly that strong.

Not alone, anyway.

The other children had sensed his vision, and they understood it. The armed men shouted out in startled voices as their weapons were pulled violently from their hands, all six rifles sailing through the air, landing at Uncle Walter's and Marita's feet. Neither of the adults hesitated, grabbing up a weapon and pointing it at the guards. When they were assured the shocked men had surrendered, Walter turned startled brown eyes on William.

"Did you do that?"

"We all did," William said softly. He looked up at the balcony where his mother stood. He felt her awe, her fear, and her pride.

She turned toward the balcony stairs. "Langly, Frohike, Byers. Go with the children. Get them away from here."

"What about the guards?" Byers asked.

"Take their pistols away and let them go," she told him. It was what they had done with the human guard after Scully made her first 'kill.' She reached the bottom of the stairs,

grabbing the rail once as the building gave another violent shudder.

"I thought we were supposed to be safe from the explosions up here," Langly said nervously.

"So did I," Scully told him. She walked toward the children. "William, where's your father?"

"He went to find Wes' mom." Even though he had just met the boy, William felt he knew him and the others as if they had been friends for all their lives.

Scully reached her son and kneeled down to hug him. "Why are you here?" She looked at Walter as she asked this.

"I told them Daddy told me to come." Will's voice was subdued and his eyes were downcast.

"You mean he didn't?" Walter asked, his eyes narrowing.

Will shook his head.

Scully sighed. "What you did here, with the children," she paused, and William looked at her intently. "You promise you won't..."

"Don't worry, Mama," he whispered. "We'll be careful."

Tears formed in her eyes, and she smiled slightly. "I have to find your father."

"I know."

She hugged him again, then picked up her shotgun off the floor where she had set it and stood. Taking a deep breath, she turned and trotted out of the lobby, shotgun in hand,

another one strapped across her back.

Will turned pleading eyes to John. The agent didn't have to be psychic to know what the boy was asking. With a nod, he turned and followed Scully out of the lobby.

William looked at Walter. "Let's go away from here. I don't want to be here anymore."

*****

Mulder had made it to the medical wing when he started to realize his plan wasn't going exactly as it should, and it had nothing to do with William's presence. It had to do with

the force of the explosions underneath him; explosions that should have been confined to the underground network of the base and should not affect the upper levels. However, the

last huge ground tremor had caused part of the ceiling to fall into his and Monica's path and the emergency lights to dim.

He tried to ignore the hint of anxious fear that swept through him and continued on towards Susan's office. The woman had been his only real, trusted friend since this whole El Creyente thing began, and he wasn't about to leave her behind.

Mulder reached her office door and pulled it open, only to cast startled eyes on the sight of the General leaning over Susan who lay on her back on her desk, his hand tight about

her throat. Her bulging eyes turned toward him, pleading for help. Without hesitation, Mulder pulled the stiletto he always carried out of the back pocket of his jeans. The General saw him coming and straightened, but he was too late. After a quick jab to the back of the alien's neck, Mulder pulled it away from Susan and shoved the screaming creature back towards the wall. Ignoring the sounds of death coming from his former 'boss,' Mulder turned his attention toward his friend.

"Wes?" Susan whispered in a broken voice. Mulder knew instantly that her trachea had been damaged. She couldn't breath in enough oxygen.

"He's with the children. Skinner and Marita are getting them out of here."

"Skin--," she tried to say his name. "Here?" Her eyes were drawn to Monica, who had moved up behind him, keeping a wary eye on the bubbling green pool of goo next to the wall.

"Yeah," Mulder said with a nod. "They're all here." He frowned. "Why was he--?"

Susan coughed. "He thought it was me." Her voice was strong for a moment, but then she started coughing again. Mulder knew that the General had been suspicious of all the human

players in this game. It appeared he had decided Susan was the real traitor. "He still wanted to believe in you." Her voice was weak again.

"Mulder?" Monica's voice was full of fear behind him. "We gotta go."

He nodded without looking at her, then reached down to pick up Susan. She met his eyes with her own. "No."

"Yeah, right," he responded sarcastically. As if he was going to leave her here to die. He turned and headed out the door, Monica close behind him. The floor shook once more, and some more tiles fell from the ceiling, nearly knocking him in the head. "Hey, Reyes?"

"Yeah?"

"Why the hell did you want to come with me?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I thought you might need help."

"Right," Mulder said with a grimace. "You do know Doggett was going to be a part of the ambush, right? That he wasn't going to be back here?"

She was silent for a moment. "I didn't come with you to find him. He can take care of himself."

Mulder knew she was lying. He may not be able to clearly read her mind, but he knew she was lying. He had been thinking long and hard about why she had demanded to come with him, and the only thing he could think of was Doggett. When he had told Will he was going to find Scully, Monica had obviously thought Doggett would be with her and they were in trouble, completely forgetting about the planned ambush in the lobby. "You know, you're about as subtle as Scully used to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

But Mulder didn't hear her. He stopped suddenly as he looked at the dark corridor in front of him. Something was wrong.

"Mulder?"

He felt the heat a split second before the flames came roaring around the corner.

"Shit!" he yelled. "Guess we can't get out that way." Shifting the load in his arms, he turned back the way they had come, his back aching but his mind determined.

"What now?" Monica asked.

"There's more than one way out," he told her, his mind quickly searching through his options. Obviously, he had miscalculated the power of the explosives he had asked the Gunmen to acquire. The fire was hotter and larger than expected, and it would take the whole base, not just the lower levels. Which would have been fine with him... if he, Monica and Susan hadn't still been inside. "The hangars," he said out loud. There was nothing but solid ground underneath the hangars, which were attached to the main base by a tunnel that ran just slightly below ground level. If they could make it to the tunnel...

He looked at Susan. "What do you think?"

She didn't respond.

Casting a harried glance at the encroaching fire behind him, Mulder set the woman down. Monica kneeled beside her, carefully feeling for a pulse. After several long seconds, she shook her head.

Mulder bowed his head, not even trying to stop the tears. "I promised her I'd get her out of this."

"You got her son out," Monica said softly. "I think that that is all she really cared about."

Mulder nodded, then felt the heat increasing at his back. The fire was coming. The last of the bombs had exploded, but they were a long way from safe.

*****

"I don't believe this!"

Scully ignored her complaining companion as she ran through the halls, desperately trying to find not only her husband, but a way out. The fire behind them would soon either catch

them as they ran, or would cause the whole building to collapse around them. Now was not the time to start bemoaning the fact that the plan had gone awry.

But that's all Doggett wanted to do. That and run. "If I get my hands on him--!"

"It's not as if he expected us to still be in here," she yelled over her shoulder, trying to reason with him. "Going back in for him wasn't part of the plan either."

"Nor was Monica being with him, dammit," Doggett groused.

Despite their circumstances, Scully had to smile. "You have to admit, everything up to this point worked as it was supposed to. Even William's arrival turned out to be a good thing." Scully would never forget the awe she had felt watching six rifles fly though the air as if of their own volition because thirteen little children had wanted them to. "Something had to go wrong at some point."

"Yeah, well if this whole building collapses around us and it turns out that the fucking virus wasn't even touched, it won't matter that everything else worked as it was supposed to."

Scully turned to glare at him. "Let's show a little optimism here, okay?"

Doggett's eyes flashed to something beyond her and he reached up to grab Scully's arm, halting her. She turned around to see what he was looking at. Four MP's stood in their path, eyes unafraid, weapons ready. Replicants.

"Run," Scully whispered.

"Where?" Doggett whispered back.

"At this point, I don't think that really matters."

They both turned and rushed back toward the fire, turning sharply when they reached another corridor. They could hear the footfalls of the four 'men' behind them.

"If Monica and Mulder were trapped in here like we are, where would they go?" Doggett asked as they rounded another corridor.

Scully thought quickly. "They can't go down," she said. "They would try to stay... the hangars!"

Doggett nodded in agreement, and he picked up the pace. Scully knew his mind was running through the memory of the blue prints Mulder had sent them. He stopped at a bisection.

"Which way?"

Scully thought a moment. Left was east. Wasn't it? "That way," she said, nodding toward the right.

"You sure?"

"No."

"Okay. We go right."

Doggett turned and started jogging down the hallway. Glancing behind her, Scully started to follow, but something in the hall behind her made her stop short. "John!" No answer. He had already run too far ahead. Nervously, she turned and ran down to the body she saw lying in the hall, only feet from the encroaching fire.

Susan Donahue, her throat bruised, lay still on the floor. Scully kneeled and checked for a pulse, already knowing there would be none. Swallowing tightly, she rose and ran back up the hall after Doggett. She heard the sounds of her pursuers echoing behind her and she had no idea how close they were. She began to panic and picked up speed. Suddenly, an arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a doorway. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand instantly covered it.

She began to struggle, but then she noticed the replicants appearing from around the corner. She stilled and allowed her captor to pull her further into the dark doorway.

*Geez, you'd think that after all we've been through, you'd recognize your own husband.*

Scully felt herself wilt against Mulder, ignoring the press of the extra shotgun strapped to her back, and he let his hand drop from her mouth, even as the replicants passed them

at a steady trot. When they were gone, she tried to pull away. He refused to let go of her. "Deja vu," he whispered in her ear, and Scully was once again back in the Wonderland, dancing sensuously with her partner of so many years and so many ways. "What the hell are you doing here, Scully?" Though his voice was still soft and seductive, the words were filled with anger.

"Looking for you," she told him.

"Was that John that ran by before you?"

Startled, Scully pulled out of Mulder's embrace and turned to face Monica. "Yes, it was. He'll probably double back when he realizes I'm not right behind him. They'll catch him."

"Not if we catch them first," Mulder said, his voice deadly.

Scully swung the extra shotgun off her back and handed it to him. She saw the anger he felt in his eyes as he moved closer to the door and the dim light of the hall, and she remembered the body she had found. "Susan?"

"The General decided to blame the attack on her. We got there too late." He didn't have to tell her that the General no longer existed.

"Come on, let's go." Monica had no interest in their discussion; she wanted to find John.

Scully nodded. "Let's go."

*****

Doggett knew it was no use, but he continued to struggle against his captors as they dragged him toward the wall of flame in front of him. They had caught him only seconds

after he realized Scully wasn't behind him; though he had tried to convince himself not to worry, that she could take care of herself, he had turned to search for her nonetheless. The replicants had been waiting.

He had managed to fire his shotgun once, but the three guards left had ignored the destruction of their comrade and continued on toward Doggett. Now, they seemed intent on literally throwing him into the fire. He could feel the intense heat on his face and could swear he felt his nose hairs burning when the replicant on his right suddenly let go of him with a scream.

The other two guards turned on their attackers, a man and a woman, shotguns braced against their shoulders, eyes glowing as they faced the fire. Doggett barely heard the weapons as they both let loose with another round. The last two replicants fell at his feet. He rushed toward his rescuers, not at all surprised, and yet greatly relieved, to see Monica standing weaponless behind them.

"What took you guys so long?" he asked with a smirk.

Mulder raised his shotgun again. "Watch it, buddy."

Doggett raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just kidding."

"Are you okay?" Monica asked him.

"Sure," he responded. "A little warm, but hell, we are in the desert."

"Speaking of desert," Dana replied. "Let's do our best to get to it."

The four of them, with Mulder leading the way, headed away from the fire.

The hall seemed to cool a bit and Doggett was about to shout his relief, when the floor beneath them began to crumble. "Mulder, when you said you wanted to destroy this base,

couldn't you have been a little more thorough?" He couldn't stop the sarcasm; it hid his fear.

Mulder didn't even stop to respond...until the very floor in front of him disappeared. About six feet of floor was gone. "Damn," he said softly.

Doggett saw Dana look at him, and the former agent looked back at her. Though their lips never moved and he never heard their voices, Doggett knew they were talking to each other.

Mulder gave a sharp nod and jumped, landing heavily on the other side of the gap in the floor. He turned to face them just as Dana took a leap of her own. "Come on!" he shouted

at them, reaching out to catch Dana as she landed. "It's not gonna get any smaller!"

They were nuts! But Mulder was also right. He took a deep breath and looked over at Monica. She responded by grabbing his hand in her own, then nodding. "On three," he told her softly.

"One."

"Two," Monica said softly.

Three was never uttered as they took the impossible leap together. They hit the floor running, Mulder and Dana right in front of them. Mulder took a sharp right, and they followed him down three shallow steps. A long dark hall stood in front of them, but the pale light of the hangar bay sat at the end. Without letting go of Monica's hand, Doggett

ran like he had never run before, the roar of the collapsing building echoing behind him.

*****

William sat in the circle of Uncle Walter's arms, watchingas the building in front of him burned and collapsed in on itself. There were still people inside, he could feel them dying, but there was nothing he could do for them. Their fate had been sealed when the Grays had brought them here. He sensed no replicants, and the few Grays he felt were far away, their fear and anger palpable.

The attack had been successful; the virus had been destroyed. But at what cost?

He looked over at Wesley, the oldest of their little army of babies. He stood staring at the inferno, tears running down his face. His mother was dead and they had all felt her go.

Now, like all but Rebecca and himself, Wes was an orphan.

William looked back at the building. Where were his parents? He knew they were okay. Like Wes, he would have felt it if something had happened to them. Wouldn't he? Or would they, in an attempt to spare him any pain, somehow block him from the suffering they had felt? William looked up at the pale blue sky above him, devoid of any clouds. *You can't let

them die,* he said, not caring if the other children heard his plea to God. *We need them. We all need them.*

"Look!" Marita's voice broke through his thoughts and he turned his head toward the west side of the burning base. Four weary figures were walking toward them, covered in soot and sand and sweat.

William pulled himself out of Walter's arms and ran toward them, his heart pounding wildly, his little legs carrying him over the hard packed sand as fast as he could go.

He didn't stop until he was in his parent's arms.

*****

Here I am - this is me

There's no where else on earth I'd rather be

Here I am - it's just me and you

And tonight we make our dream come true

It's a new world - it's a new start

It's alive with the beating of young hearts

It's a new day - it's a new plan

I've been waiting for you

Here I am

Here we are - we've just begun

And after all this time our time had come

Yeah here we are - still goin' strong

Right here in the place where we belong

It's a new world - it's a new start

It's alive with the beating of young hearts

It's a new day - it's a new plan

I've been waiting for you

Here I am

Here I am - next to you

And suddenly the world is all brand new

Here I am - where I'm gonna stay

Now there's nothin standing in our way

Here I am - this is me

It's a new world - it's a new start

It's alive with the beating of young hearts

It's a new day - it's a new plan

I've been waiting for you

Here I am

*****

Mulder Residence - Two Weeks Later

Scully said goodnight to Skinner, replaced the receiver of the phone, and took a deep breath. That was it. It was over.

For now.

A combined task force made up of military personnel, FBI, CIA and local agencies had finished their investigation of the destruction of El Creyente, a base most of them had not even known about. They had determined that the ultra-secret testing going on in the underground labs had gone awry, causing a dramatic chain reaction that had destroyed the

entire base and had killed approximately twenty of its enlisted personnel. Many of the surviving soldiers had claimed that there were many more people, people who had not officially been assigned to the base, that were unaccounted for, but due to the intensity of the fire, no bodies were recovered. Nothing lived in the ashes of El Creyente.

There had been survivors, though. Scully knew this. Grays and a handful of replicants; the unofficial personnel. Their work may have been destroyed, but they wouldn't quit. They would build anew. Of that she was certain. With a little luck, it would be years before they had anything to fear. A little luck, and a lot of praying.

The military and government personnel that had known what El Creyente really was were keeping quiet. Some in fear, others in anger. There had been a handful of lightly publicized

suicides in D.C. in the last few days; many were blaming bad dealings with the Stock Market.

It had taken the last two weeks, and several phone calls to people in high places that owed Skinner a debt or two, to find safe homes for the children, all in or about the D.C. area. These foster homes had not been easy to find, but thanks to some extra work on Mulder's part, all the children were placed with families who understood the 'gifts' they had been born with; Mulder and Scully's years with the X-Files had led them to several people who accepted psychic ability as fact.

Little Rebecca had settled with her mother in an apartment not far from here, and the newly orphaned Wesley was staying with them. All the children were still mentally connected to Mulder and each other, their close proximity a comfort. All would still meet more than once a week for training with Mulder. Though they may have just helped save the world they were still just babies and a long way from becoming independent.

Scully looked at the clock on her desk. It was a little after 10 PM. Mulder had taken the boys away for a bath and bed over an hour ago while Scully finished her calls, ensuring all the children were safe and settled. Knowing none of her 'commando' group would ever be connected to the destruction of El Creyente was icing on the cake. Mulder's second 'resurrection' was already making waves at the Bureau, but both John and Monica were handling the rumors with a small smile and a shrug. The busiest rumor was that Mulder had had a contract put out on him by a large gang of South American drug runners and he had faked his own death to protect his family; the DEA had caught the gang when they arrived in the U.S. last month, so Mulder was able to come back home.

Scully kind of liked that one.

The sound of running water coming from the bathroom snagged Scully's attention. She stood, flicking lights off as she moved across the room, eyeballing the door to make sure it

was locked, then moved toward her - scratch that – their bedroom. The lights were off, but the light in the bathroom was on. Barefoot, Scully moved across the room to the bathroom door and looked inside.

Mulder stood at the sink, his bare back to her, wearing nothing but a worn pair of jeans that he had not been able to wear since he 'died' all those months ago. She smiled softly when she recognized her cross, reflected in the mirror, still hanging from his neck. She wondered if she would ever get it back.

"The boys asleep?" she asked him, leaning on the frame of the door. She frowned when she realized she could see his ribs far too easily, but relaxed when his bright hazel eyes met hers in the mirror, the darkness that had haunted them during his reign at El Creyente gone.

"Yeah," he told her softly. "Wes seems to fall asleep easier since we got that night light in there." Will had never needed a night light, but Wesley had been prone to nightmares since his arrival over a week ago, and Scully had suggested the tiny blue light, its glow casting a comforting warmth on the boys. Scully had had one just like it when she was a child. She found it hard to believe she had ever been afraid of the dark.

She stood watching her husband as he opened the drug cabinet behind the mirror, then straightened as she realized what he was getting out. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of this thing," he mumbled, his hand running over the hair on his chin. With the activity and excitement of the past several days, he had not bothered to shave at all, and the growth that had appeared on his cheeks was almost as heavy as the goatee he had worn for the last year. "I've got an appointment for a haircut tomorrow, too," he told her. "I don't think I'm all that fond of this style." He ran his fingers through the thick waves that were almost long enough to pull back into a ponytail.

Scully smiled slightly. The rogue that had been living inside Mulder's body was ready to leave, and she couldn't say that she was sorry to see him go. Though he looked damn good with the earring, the longish hair and the goatee, it wasn't Mulder.

However...

"Do you have to shave it off tonight?" she asked as he prepared to squirt shaving cream into his palm. "I mean, can't you do it in the morning?"

His eyes grew suspicious as they met hers once more in the mirror. "Why?" he asked, drawing out the word.

Scully shrugged and moved toward him. "I don't know. I guess I'm still a bit curious." She reached him and placed her hands on his shoulders, slowly sliding them down his bare back. "It's not that I don't want Mulder back," she told him. "It's just that I've always had a fantasy of being ravished by a pirate."

Peeking around his shoulder, she saw him quirk an eyebrow at her. "Ravished?"

She nodded.

Setting the can of shaving cream down, Mulder looked toward the closed door that led to the hallway, and to the bedroom beyond where Will and Wes were sleeping.

"We can lock the doors," Scully told him, knowing what he was thinking just by the look in his eye. "We'll know if they need us." Her mental connection to her son worked far better than any baby monitor.

"Yeah, but can you block Wes as well as you block Will?"

Silly question, she thought. "Better."

He spun around suddenly and swept her up into his arms. Scully let out a sharp shriek in surprise, then laughed as he stumbled on his way out of the bathroom. "Damn," he said as he made his way toward the bed. "You're a lot lighter when we're dreaming."

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder just before he dropped her on the bed with a groan, falling across her legs as if exhausted.

Grinning, she used both hands to push him off of her and drew her legs up under her. "Come on, Blackbeard," she whispered, pulling her t-shirt up over her head and throwing it across the room. "You're tougher than that."

With a matching grin, Mulder pulled himself onto the bed and lay on his side watching her, propping himself up with his elbow. "Why don't you just keep doing what you're doing while I rest up?" he told her. "By the time you're naked, I should be ready to ravish."

"Oh, I think it'll be sooner than that," she purred, reaching behind her to undo her bra. She smiled in triumph as his eyes were drawn to her bared breasts, his pupils dilating despite the light coming in from the bathroom. Scully continued with her strip tease, undoing her jeans and shimmying out of them and her panties without leaving the bed. Kneeling, she reached up and pulled out the hair band which had been holding her hair up in a ponytail. She shook her head and felt the silky strands brush her shoulders and upper back. Placing her hands on her thighs, she sat still. Well?"

Even with the tight jeans, Mulder's erection was obvious, but he didn't move. He just stared at her intently, his eyes roving up and down her body, pausing every once in a while,

then moving on. "Mulder?" Scully whispered.

His eyes met hers, and Scully was shocked to see that his were wet.

"Mulder?" she asked again, her voice sharper. Worried.

"Do you realize that this is the first time we'll make love as husband and wife?"

His voice was steady, but Scully heard the emotion behind the words. "My God," she whispered. "You're right." Their dream interlude had been just that... a dream. This was real. Biting her lip, Scully managed to keep her own eyes from flooding at this simple realization. Taking a deep breath, she rose from her kneeling position and moved to lay on her back, stretching her legs out toward him, her toes touching his taut belly. "So, let's do it, partner."

He lay still for a moment longer, his eyes fused with hers, his breathing quickening. Almost casually, he undid the snaps of his jeans and slithered out of them. Then he pulled his lithe body up on his hands and knees and crawled over to her. She stretched her arms up toward the headboard, expecting him to crawl up her body and kiss her, but he never made it that far. Instead, he placed his hands between her legs and gently pressed her thighs apart. She spread her legs willingly, her whole body suddenly tight with anticipation as he sank down to his elbows, wrapped his arms under her thighs and pulled her legs up onto his shoulders. He stopped with his mouth directly over her center and she shuddered as she felt his hot breath on her aroused flesh. His eyes had never once left hers. "Still curious?"

Swallowing excitedly, Scully nodded.

With a wicked smile, Mulder began to gently rub his face against the tender skin of her inner thighs. Scully was familiar with the feel of one or two days growth of beard, had, in fact, 'suffered' from beard burn more than once since she and Mulder had become lovers, but this was different. It wasn't rough and prickly. It was soft and - "Oh!" – it tickled. Mulder began to blow warm air onto her clit, which she knew must be exposed to his sight as aroused as she was, and he continued to gently and insistently brush his beard against her thighs. She started giggling, the combined tortures leaving her no other option. "Mulder!"

"What?" he asked, his voice casual.

"Stop!"

"Really?"

"No!"

She felt him laugh, and the breath he exhaled against her caused her to moan. "Oh, God, Mulder!"

"I may have some power, Scully," Mulder said with a smile in his voice. "But I'm far from being God." Scully was saved from replying as she felt his tongue, hot, wet and

demanding, sweep upwards along her slit, catching on her clit.

She came. Hard.

When she was able to breathe again, she loosened her death-grip on the headboard and lifted her head to look at him. He lay quietly between her legs, watching her, his dark eyes filled with awe. "Though you make me feel like one," he said softly.

Still trembling in reaction, Scully let go of the headboard and reached down for him. He eased out from underneath her thighs and rose onto his knees. He grasped her hands in his

own, then pulled her toward him, at the same time shuffling forward on his knees. When her shoulders were off the bed and his knees were pressed against her inner thighs, he let

go of one of her hands and leaned forward to wrap that arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. Before she really knew what he was doing, she found herself straddling his thighs, her belly and chest pressed against his. He spread his legs slightly, balancing them both better, then he grasped her under her arms and lifted. She grabbed his shoulders and helped lift herself up, understanding now what he was doing. Slowly, he lowered her back down, easing himself into her, impaling her.

She gasped as she felt him slide inside. She was ready for him - oh, was she ready for him - but it had been months since she had felt anything other than her own fingers inside her warm depths. It was a tight fit, and a tad uncomfortable.

"Scully?" Mulder whispered harshly, holding both of them still.

"It's okay," she told him, taking a deep breath. "Keep going."

He continued to slowly lower her, his arms starting to shake with the effort, until he was completely sheathed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck, absorbing the feeling of completeness that had always accompanied sex with this man. The discomfort subsided, leaving behind only a pleasant fullness, and she began to rock her hips against him.

He banded his arms around her when he felt her move, knowing she was no longer in any pain, and began to rock his own body to her rhythm. "Scully?"

She pulled back slightly to look at his face. "Hmmmm?"

He kissed her, softly at first, then with more force. His tongue began a thrusting that his body began to imitate, and soon they were moaning into each other’s mouths. He pulled away. "Scully?"

"Yeah?" she responded, her breathing coming in gulps, her sweaty arms slipping slightly on his shoulders.

*I love you.*

She smiled, 'hearing' his words in her head and in her heart. *I love you,* she responded, and she felt the answering leap from his own heart. Closing her eyes, she reached for his mouth once again, intent on the feelings suddenly swamping her. The feel of his cock, smooth and hard, gliding in and out of her. The feel of her breasts pressed up against his chest, the wiry hair rubbing erotically against her nipples as they rocked together. The hot, wet warmth of her vagina as it surrounded-- "Oh, God," she whispered huskily.

"There you go again," Mulder murmured, a smile in his voice.

"Mulder," she said against his mouth. "Do you...?"

"Feel what you feel?" Mulder finished. "Yeah."

Unlike the first time this had happened, neither were startled by the shared feelings. This didn't reduce the powerful effect it had on either of them, however. "Mulder! Oh, dear God!" Scully couldn't believe the pleasure soaring through her. The intensity of making love to Mulder was doubled by her sharing in his pleasure. She began to thrust harder, absorbed in the incredible feelings he created in her and the astounding pleasure she created in him. When her climax erupted, his scream echoed hers, and her tremors were far from over when his own explosion caused another climax, this one only a little less powerful than her first, to consume them both.

When she came to her senses, Mulder was lying on his back with her sprawled on his chest. Scully recalled having ending up in this same position the night they had discovered this unusual connection. She started giggling.

"If it's gonna be like this all the time," Mulder said in a rough voice beneath her. "We're gonna kill each other."

"Oh, I don't know," Scully said. "I think I could get used to it."

Mulder snorted. "Women were made to have multiple orgasms. Men weren't. We can't take it. It's why men don't have babies. Too much damn oxytocin."

Scully started laughing outright now, lifting her head to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smile he was trying to hide.

"Mulder?"

He lifted his head to look at her, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Welcome home."

THE END

*****

My original Author's Notes:

Well, if you made it this far, then you can keep going. This isn't the longest fic I've ever written, but it was by far the hardest. Time has been my enemy, and

because of that, this may be the last fanfic I ever write. I'm not going to put that in stone, because I sure as heck have plenty more stories in my head. It is simply going to

be hard to find the time to put those ideas down where everyone can see them. If I have a few hours to myself, or a day off here or there, maybe I'll get one written again. Just don't hold your breath waiting for one.

Since this may by my last, I thought I better thank a few people:

First of all, God bless Tex! My official beta, she was the first to get every new chapter of this story, and despite the 'stresses' of her first year of college, managed to find the time to read them and send back her edits, opinions, and encouragement. Thanks, babe!

Special thanks to Shads, who became a back-up beta, and all the other readers at Chatterbox and the XF Forum, as well as KissMe and Yoda: Your support means more to me than you will ever know.

Thank you Mortis, for continuing to make the Fanfic Corner such a wonderful place to visit... and for showing off my stories with her wonderful collages.

This story is dedicated to the authors of fanfiction who have supported my work AND whose work I love to read: Abracadabra, Storm, Spooky's Girl, Mortis, Lovesfox, Foxie

Meg, Donnilee, Laura Means, SASpooky, and many, many others. Those of you that are still writing, have no fear that I will ever quit reading. Viva la fanfic!

And one last bit of thanks to the Lushes. Though our connection has decreased since the end of the series, I still consider you all friends and think of you each and every day. I met you all through fanfic, which means that this unique and special form of 'entertainment' is so much more than just a way to pass the time. Al, Nik, Lady, Meg, Pravda, Yoda, Ashley, XP, KMM, O&M, and SAS (the originals), as well as Storm, Ship, Tex, and A2X: I lurve you guys!

Time to shut up before I start crying. Now give me that feedback, and I might consider trying to write another one!

Virtues and Vices

December 4, 2002