Gossamer | Story: "Generations 33: Amnesia (2/2)" by MacspookyThe Gossamer 
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From: macspooky@erols.com

"Amnesia" Chapter 9
by Macspooky

Dewayne Bothrington sat in the living room of the 
apartment where he had grown up.  It consisted of four 
railroad rooms in a beat up old six family house in Harlem.  
As a child, the roof had leaked nearly as much as the 
plumbing and the paint had been peeling off the walls.  
When they were lucky they had gotten heat.  His father had 
died when he was but two.  He had been an outside child 
and his parents hadn't married, but his mother had always 
assured him that his father had been a good man and had 
cared for him.  His real wife couldn't have any children, 
and she had been very sick.  Both knew he bore his father's 
last name despite the lack of a wedding ceremony.  As a 
decent man, he had not been able to abandon his sic wife, 
and yet he had loved his outside family very much.  After 
his death, his mother had eventually married a man who 
had given her three daughters in quick succession and 
plenty of black and blue marks.  She had accepted her 
beatings stoically until the day his stepfather had laid a 
hand on her only son.  Ronetta had thrown him out of the 
house , but being a poor black woman who could barely 
read and write, she had been reduced to welfare until the 
children were all in school and then, determined to be 
independent, she had gone to work as a maid cleaning hotel 
rooms.  There had never been another man in her life.  She 
had, she once told Both, learned her lesson well.  A woman 
didn't get two in her life as good as his daddy had been.  
She forgot the companionship that a relationship should 
bring and focused her dreams on her children.

The apartment looked better now.  Since he had gone to 
work for the Bureau he had made certain that it was kept 
painted and the plumbing stayed fixed.  He had even paid 
to have the toilet moved from the hall into the kitchen 
although he hadn't been able to do much to enclose the 
bathtub.  He didn't want his sisters to have to go outside at 
night when they had to use the facilities.  When they 
wanted to bath everyone still had to stay out of the kitchen 
though and a shower was out of the question.  It wasn't 
always easy financially, but he had learned to live frugally 
and Mulder had helped him find a reasonable apartment, 
not an easy thing in Washington DC.

"I really am feeling much better Dew...." she said to her 
only son.   Dew was a silly pet name.  When he had been a 
little boy she had lifted him in the air and told him he was 
as sweet as morning dew on grass.  He hadn't entirely 
understood back then. At that time, he had not seen much 
grass and never dew, but he had liked the name anyway 
because it had been mama's special name for him. "It was 
just a bad cold."

"I'm glad to hear that, mama," he said with a smile.  "Still, 
there is something I have to do in New York and I told my 
boss that you were sick."

"Well I was so it isn't a lie exactly.   You know I don't hold 
with no lyin..."

Both reached into his pocket for his checkbook.  Before he 
forgot, he wanted to write the check for his sister's tuition.

"Won't need that no more, Dew," she smiled.

"Mama...you didn't put the girls in public school did you?"  
He demanded.  The New York City Public Schools were 
war zones.  The street was a war zone too but he liked 
knowing that his sisters were safe at least during school 
hours. The influence in the Catholic High School they 
attended was much better.  The parents who sent their kids 
there were not the sort as a rule who let their kids run the 
streets.  The tuition was high but there was a break for his 
two younger sisters.

"Course not, Dew...." she said.  "Your sisters will go to 
college like you.  A lawyer man came to the school and set 
up scholarships and your sister's won them...all three of my 
girls."  She smiled widely.  "Can you imagine...all my 
babies smart and winning scholarships?  It pay for 
everything....even the uniforms and Sister Elizabeth tell me 
that there be enough to see the girls go to college 
too...After all those years of struggle....."

Both had never heard of a scholarship like that before.  It 
sounded almost too good to be true.  When something 
sounded that way, it usually was, especially here, especially 
in the ghetto across the street from the projects.  He vowed 
to check it out but he kept that to himself.  No need to 
alarm mama just yet.

"Then with that prize I won....."

"What prize, mama?"

"A prize....I got a letter....a contest.  Don't remember 
enterin no contest...no time with work and all....but....it said 
I won a magazine contest and now I even have a savings 
account for when times get rough...not a lot...but somethin 
for when I can't work no more. I did read a magazine......"

Scholarships....a contest....yes...he would definitely check it 
out.

"I have to ask you something Mama," he said.  His mother 
may not have had much education.  Perhaps she could 
barely read the New York Daily News, but she had always 
been wise in a peasant's way and had always had dreams 
for her children and she absorbed everything they told her 
from school.  Slowly and carefully he told her about  his 
supervisor at work and the conversation he had had on the 
street.  He hesitated a bit, but his mother knew how to be 
circumspect and keep her mouth shut which was part of the 
reason she heard things.

"That be Killer Dog," she said thoughtfully.  "Saw you 
talking.  Didn't like it much.   That Killer Dog...always 
were a bad boy.  He dead the next day.  Shot...."

She considered her son's story carefully.  "They be 
experimentin on brother's again Dew," she said softly.  "I 
knows it.  I hears things on the street too and Tamika tell 
me one of the boys in her class...he foolish and steal a car.  
He get bad influenced.  He have an accident and after...he 
can't remember.  Nothin be wrong...but he can't 
remember..."  She studied her son.  She would worry about 
him now.  He was the FBI and he would investigate this, 
but she didn't trust the FBI much...not here...not in 
Harlem....maybe not anywhere just one part of the 
FBI...just her son.

"So what do you think I should do about my boss, mama?" 
he asked after admonishing her not to mention to his sister 
Tamika or Anandi or Star either that he had been asking.

"Why you want to help this white man Dew?"

"Because this white man is different, mama....this white 
man and his wife....they went after the Teliko in 
Philadelphia when no one else cared."

Ronetta nodded thoughtfully.  "You help this white man 
maybe you help your own kind too.  You say you have his 
blood?"

"Yes, mama...."

"You takes it to Sister Nia....you takes it now...."

Both walked into the small dark shop that sold statues of 
saints and candles and herbs.  The elderly Sister Nia stood 
behind the counter.  She had a smile for him.  It was a 
secret smile.

Ronetta had been born in Jamaica although she had come 
to the US at a young age.  She had been raised 
Catholic...had always been Catholic in  spite of her 
relationship with Both's dad and had raised her children the 
same, but she had a secret with her son, a secret that he had 
discovered accidentally, and that was that his mama, in 
order to cover all her bases, had always made her offerings 
to Shango too....just in case.  Sister Nia was definitely not a 
nun, a good woman, but it was not to the Church of Rome 
that she belonged despite the lovely statues of saints and 
votives that she sold in her shop.

He gave her the blood.  "I need to know what is in this 
blood, Sister," he said.  "Mama told me to come to you."

She held the vial in her hands and closed her eyes.

"This is the white man's blood," she said.  He didn't 
question how she knew.  This strange old woman had 
always known things.

"This is the blood of the man who defeated Teliko.  He is 
very sick.  He cannot remember."

She nodded thoughtfully.  "He was in a car accident."

"Yes....."

"Too many...too many.  Shango is very angry.  You leave it 
with me.  I will find out."

"I told my mother and I will tell you.  It could be 
dangerous.  Say nothing to anyone."

"Shango will watch out for me."

Both left the small shop with a bad full of candles some 
herb tea for his mama and some chocolate for his sisters 
feeling as though he had set something in motion although 
he wasn't certain what.  He thought the stuff about Shango 
was a lot of nonsense himself although he respected Sister 
as a herbalist.  Actually, he thought being a Catholic was 
too, but kids needed to believe in something and they ran a 
good school system so he kept his mouth shut.  He walked 
along the street looking at the depressing buildings that 
were the projects.  He had been considered lucky.  he hadn't 
lived in them.  Even though there had never been enough to 
eat when he was a child, he had been spared the projects.  
He wondered what Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner would 
think if they knew that one of their prize agents had often 
stolen food from the vegetable stands...had roasted potatoes 
they had lifted in fires started in trash cans.  He wasn't 
proud of it, but he had done what he needed to do to 
survive.  As long as mama never found out......he chuckled.

Bothrington got the name of the foundation that had 
provided the scholarships for his sisters.  The principal of 
St. Theresa's School assured him that she had checked it 
out thoroughly and that it was legitimate.   She had been 
reluctant to reveal more since it was supposed to be 
anonymous, but Dewayne Bothrington was an FBI Agent.  
Maybe something was wrong after all. They had been paid 
through a Foundation that was headed by a woman named 
Sophia Muldovsky and awarded by a small but registered 
publishing company.  Six children had gotten the 
scholarships...three girls and three boys, but it had been 
requested that the scholarships be granted to his sisters and 
she had been glad to do it.  

"I didn't do wrong did I Mr. Bothrington?" she asked.  
"Your mother is such a good woman and the girls are so 
smart...."

"No," he smiled quietly.  "You didn't do wrong.  Feel free 
to accept any additional scholarships that might come your 
way through this foundation."  Mulder, he decided, worked 
in strange ways. He'd done some checking on Mulder's 
background on the QT.  The man was amazing.  He never 
advertised his wealth, but he certainly did have money. He 
would remain silent of course.  If Mulder wanted 
anonymity that was okay with him. If the students did well, 
perhaps more aid would be given.  The neighborhood 
needed all the help it could get.  Any children that were 
saved were a blessing.  That Sophia...she was something 
else again.

He left the school.  It had taken him longer to get out than 
he wanted but Sister Elizabeth had insisted that he come 
and talk to some of the classes and what could he say.  It 
was almost time to go home.  Time to change and prowl 
the projects asking questions....quietly...discreetly.....but 
there was something else he had to do first.

Bothrington knew he wasn't going home in two days.  He 
knew he wasn't going home until he solved this.  He 
wouldn't call.  That was too dangerous. He hopped on a bus 
and went downtown to a bar...an upscale bar where you 
could send e-mail.  He wouldn't send a message to Scully 
or Skinner.  He began to type.

"Walter," said Margaret looking up from her computer, 
"I've got the oddest e-mail message on my screen."

Walter Skinner looked at his wife.  She wore an expression 
of consternation.  Little alarm bells went off in his head.  
Although he had learned to keep his feelings to himself, he 
had never felt comfortable about his wife netsurfing.  He 
got up and went over to look.

Hello from Aunt B in the Big Apple

I've shopped till I'm ready to drop and found some 
wonderful and interesting bargains.  ROFL....yeah....I found 
more than I bargained for.  Having such a good time I've 
decided to stay a little longer.

Cyberhugs

Aunt B

Margaret was very surprised to hear her husband laugh out 
loud.  She had expected him to be alarmed or annoyed.  
She knew he didn't approve of the time she spent on aol 
chit chatting with other late life mom's over the modem and 
reading UFO Chaser fanfic which she found hysterical. 
Sometimes Walter was terribly alarmist.

"I'm glad Aunt B is having a good time," he said giving her 
a kiss on the cheek.  "If you get any more messages from 
her, you make sure that you show them to me.  Now you go 
ahead and delete that."

Walter took himself into the kitchen and chuckled.  "God 
bless Agent Bothrington," he thought.  It would seem that 
the man was as resourceful as that nutcase son-in-law of his 
had been before his amnesia.  Also, he seemed to have 
found something, something that might help Mulder regain 
his memory.

End Chapter 9


"Amnesia" Chapter 10
by Macspooky


Fox watched Dana come out of the bathroom and sighed 
internally. She looked so beautiful in the soft yellow 
nightgown she wore with her hair hanging below her  
shoulders.  It had gotten longer again and during the day 
she wore it up.  He wished his head would stop hurting, 
wished that  she really felt like his wife,  wished he could 
remember, but he  couldn't.  He hoped that she wouldn't try 
to kiss him or  anything.  As much as he would  have 
liked...had fantasized about  making love to her in the past, 
he knew he couldn't do it.  It just wouldn't work.  He knew 
his body  wouldn't allow it, or that his mind  wouldn't.  
Even though he had seen the videos and the photos and the  
babies......nothing rang true in his head anymore, 
nothing...nothing except the fact that his sister was still 
missing and he wanted to look for her and Skinner wouldn't 
let him return to work...nothing except that his head hurt 
almost all the time now and he was reaching the point 
where he couldn't bear the pain anymore.  Dana had been 
talking with the doctor about cutting back his medication 
thinking that perhaps he was having rebound headaches 
from it, but as much as he hated taking it, he didn't think he 
would be able to get out of bed without it.

She got into bed next to him, and as he feared, she moved 
close to him.  He had rejected her enough times that he 
hoped she would take the hint and leave him alone, but she 
never seemed to give up. He thought that maybe he wasn't  
being fair.  He supposed he should have been grateful that 
she was still interested after the way he had treated her 
when she had tried to shave him, but it just didn't feel right 
and she didn't seem to want to understand.  For a few days 
she had kept her distance, but now she was sending him 
distinct signals, signals he told himself he couldn't act on. 

Dana switched off the light and reached over giving his lips 
a gentle kiss.  He turned his face  away and she sighed 
audibly. She wanted him so badly.

Although it was not all that she  wanted, Dana would have 
settled  for an arm wrapped around her, or  some little sign 
of affection, but not even that was forthcoming.  He eased 
his arm behind his head to escape her touch and she saw 
her chance.

Fox realized immediately he had  made a mistake in 
moving his arm as he had.  All his adult life there  had been 
an area just below his arm pit that had just about driven 
him mad when a woman kissed him there.  He never told 
women about it, but when they discovered it by 
accident.....jeez.....it could bring  him to ecstasy almost by 
itself and Dana knew.  She knew and she was kissing him 
there her lips teasing him seductively.  It would  be easy, so 
easy just to role over and get on top of her.....  His body  
was responding to her kisses.  So much for the theory that 
he couldn't.

He could, he realized, but he wouldn't.  With one quick 
motion he pushed her away from him.  Not even he fully 
understood this need he had to "respect" her, or why he 
couldn't just do with her what he would have with any other 
woman who made advances like that.  Dana didn't want to 
be respected.  Hell, she wanted to get laid, badly, but he 
just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Dana caught herself before she slipped off the bed entirely.  
He felt badly. He hadn't meant to shove her that hard, but 
somehow it didn't seem right to him to use her body that 
way.  It was what you did with women you picked up in 
bars......He felt suddenly confused.  There was nothing 
wrong with having sex with your wife, but she didn't feel 
like his wife, or his lover.....Dana Scully felt like his 
partner.  No matter what, she still just felt like his partner, 
worse yet, the partner who was in cahoots with Skinner in 
not letting him go back to his beloved X-Files, a fact that 
was starting to bother him more and more.  He felt his 
anger at Skinner growing.

"Damn it, Scully.....no.....Leave me alone."

"Why not, Fox?" she asked.  "I'm your wife."

"Well, you don't  feel like my wife and I don't want to be 
married.....I don't want it, Scully.  I just don't......"  He knew 
he was being cruel.  A pain shot through his head.

"Sure, fine, whatever," she snapped turning her back to 
him.   She had tried to be endlessly patient with him even 
after the shaving incident just as  Roberta had advised, but 
her body was screaming for release, and her soul craved his 
love.   The day before, a concerned Walter Skinner had told 
her that it was time to give him a good kick in the ass. This 
advice was starting to sound better and better.  God only 
knew when he had gotten into his snits in the past, kindness 
had never really paid. She was silent  for a few moments 
before speaking again, knowing damned well he was wide 
awake.

"It hurts, you know, Fox.....I mean it hurts to know that if I 
were a strange woman lying in your bed you'd make love to 
me...but because I'm me you won't."  She couldn't keep the 
anger and pain from her voice although she did try.  A part 
of her felt selfish for wanting sex so badly.  He was sick, 
but she was only human.  She admonished herself once 
again to be patient.

"If you were a stranger in my bed I wouldn't make love to 
you.  I'd f**k your brains out....okay...." he snapped.

"At this point I'd settle for what I could get," she replied 
coldly.

"Well, Scully, I don't do redheads," he informed her 
bluntly.  "They don't appeal to me. Got it?"

He turned his back to her thinking that that ought to make 
her leave him alone.  He knew it was cruel and felt a 
terrible knot of pain in his stomach, a knot of pure guilt, at 
what he had said.  It was like listening to his father talking 
to his mother only the words were coming out of his 
mouth.  He lay there silently for a few minutes.

"I....I didn't mean it about the redheads....okay?" he 
managed to say finally.  "I'm sorry....."

"Sure, fine," she said softly.  The pain was so intense she 
had to work to keep tears from her voice.  "I always knew 
you preferred to screw brunettes.  I've know that since 
Bambi Berenbaum. No problem, Mulder," 

Dana moved a little bit further away from him determined 
not to cry, not to let his words sting.  He got into these 
moods, she told herself.  They had always come through 
them before.  He was sorry.  He was always sorry 
afterwards and this time he was sick. It took her a long time 
to fall asleep.  Her heart was heavy and her body ached 
with unfulfilled need.  Then, it seemed that no sooner had 
she dozed off into a fitful sleep, Patrick woke up 
screaming.  Normally Fox would have gotten him, but 
things were not normal anymore and her husband 
pretended to be asleep and not hear the child.

Fox heard the baby cry but ignored it.  He wondered who 
the hell Bambi Berenbaum was and if he had screwed her 
before or after they were married...well, supposedly 
married.  Judging by the pain in Dana's voice, it had 
probably been afterwards.  Well, he wasn't husband 
material.  He could have told anyone that.  He was way too 
messed up to be married and have kids and he had always 
known it which was why he couldn't picture himself doing 
it.

The next morning dawned cold and rainy with snow 
forecast for later on in the day.  The phone rang 
early....twice....the first time being Aunt Sophia.  She had a 
stomach virus and really couldn't watch the kids. For her to 
say that, Dana knew she was really very ill.  Sophia was 
normally the picture of health and energy.   The second call 
came from the office.  They needed her for an autopsy
ASAP....heavy duty political case.  They needed the best.  
The call came from Angela, which meant that Skinner was 
up against it and probably couldn't even find the time to 
phone, unless of course he was avoiding Fox which 
wouldn't have surprised her either. She knew she couldn't 
call in sick.  She sighed and turned to Fox.  Skinner had 
finally confided to her  after making her promise to tell no 
one, not even Mulder, that Both had his suspicions about 
what had happened to Fox and he had been traveling to and 
from New York to investigate.  She had had to pick up the 
slack in the XF office and had done some profiling, and 
then her skills as a pathologist had suddenly been in more 
demand than ever.  It was all becoming too much.

"You'll have to watch the kids today," she sighed.  She 
spoke the words reluctantly.  She wasn't sure she trusted 
him with the job. Still, they were his children and it 
couldn't be helped.  Aislinn had gone home to Ireland to 
visit briefly.  Her father had had surgery.  Her mother had 
her hands full watching Wills and JF while Missy ran the 
shop in Aislinn's absence.  What could she do?  She 
couldn't keep asking other people to watch their children, 
or at least she didn't think she could.

"What the hell do I know about watching kids?" he asked 
her. "Besides I have work too...."

"You have the files you wanted to look at at home, Fox and 
you can communicate via e-mail.  I need to get to work and  
Aunt Sophia is just too sick."

"Great," he sighed.  What could he say?  If his aunt was 
sick, she was sick. Aunt Sophia was not a complainer as a 
rule, so she must feel miserable.  He needed to watch two 
little kids like a hole in the head.  They were cute, if you 
were into cuteness, but they were so busy, and it seemed 
that Patrick cried all the time.  There was something about 
the pitch of that cry that set his teeth on edge and made his 
head throb.  Dana said he wasn't normally like that, that he 
was acting out because he knew something was wrong in 
the house, but that didn't help the headache.  He couldn't 
help but think that if he had been like Patrick as a child it 
was no wonder his old man had knocked him around the 
way he had.  Then he felt guilty for the thoughts because he 
knew it was wrong to dislike a little kid, especially one that 
was supposed to be your own.

"All right, but try to be home early if you can," he finally 
agreed.  Suddenly, he realized that she looked very very 
tired and had lost a great deal of weight on an already 
slender frame.  He would try to watch the kids. He 
supposed it wouldn't kill him to try to help her a little.  She 
was still his partner. 
 
Later that day Fox grabbed three aspirin and swallowed 
them with a gulp of water.   He knew if Dana found out 
how much over the counter painkiller he was taking  on top 
of the prescribed meds, she would have a fit, but the doctor 
had cut back on those stronger meds and he couldn't stand 
it, especially not today.   He wished Scully would come 
home.  Brenda had been okay more or less, taken a nice 
long nap,  but Patrick had seemed to spend most of the day 
sitting in the corner crying about something or messing his 
diaper.  Green diarrhea was a thing he could live without at 
best.  He was definitely not at his best.  Changing the boy's 
diaper was awful, but not changing it was worse.  He had 
tried that too. Now the kid had a rash to boot.  Dana, Miss 
Priss, was going to have a fit when she saw it, and his 
headache was going to be worse than ever.  The child had 
refused to nap at all, and once Fox had found himself 
raising his hand to smack the kid in the face as pain shot 
through his head.  Fortunately, he had caught himself in 
time.   There was never any excuse for striking a child in 
the face.  It was simply too easy to dislocate the jaw....He 
knew.  He remembered.......  

Jeez....wouldn't there be hell to pay if Scully came home 
and found hand prints on her kid's face.....he shook himself.  
What sort of thoughts were these he was having?  He had 
nearly hit a child and he was thinking about the hell he 
would have to pay?  So like his father......He shook his head 
and poured himself a cup of hot coffee.  Hearing a crash 
from the family room, he snatched it up and raced to the 
room.

Patrick....naturally....Patrick had managed to pull down his 
books and files and they lay scattered all over the floor.  
Now he sat there crying.  Fox set down the coffee and 
counted to ten very very slowly not hearing the key turn in 
the lock over the din.

Dana came in.  It was starting to snow.  She was cold and 
damp and her head hurt from lack of sleep not to mention 
no lunch .  There had been no time to eat.  She had tried to 
get out early, but another victim had been brought in at the 
last minute.  The autopsies had been horrific....three dead 
teenage girls, all of which had been listed in their home 
states as runaways, one from a prominent political family 
in Rhode Island.  It was starting to look like a serial killer 
and worse yet Colton was on the case, and that meant he 
would be bugging her constantly and worse trying to get 
Fox involved to do the profile so he could get credit, even 
though her husband  was sick. Colton was like that.  He 
really didn't give a shit about anyone except maybe himself 
and Melissa.  Dana heard Patrick crying the minute she 
walked in the door.

Dana found Fox surveying a mess near the sofa as the baby 
sat in the corner in a drippy messy diaper and cried.  
Brenda was no where to be seen, and then suddenly, with 
the speed of light, as Mulder wasn't paying any attention, 
her daughter shot out of no where and grabbed the hot cup 
of coffee he had left sitting on the end table letting out a 
screech as the hot liquid went flying.

Fortunately, as Dana discovered when she rushed her little 
girl to the kitchen to get her under tepid water, most of the 
coffee had landed on the files and not the baby.  She had 
only a small burn on her leg.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Fox?" she demanded 
angrily when she realized there was no major damage.  All 
the anger and pain and frustration she had been 
experiencing suddenly bubbled to the surface and she 
couldn't control herself any longer.  "Leaving hot coffee 
like that....."  She knew she sounded like a shrew but she 
didn't care anymore.

Fox looked at her.  No one felt worse about it than he did.  
He had felt sick when he had seen the spilled liquid and 
heard the little girl scream.  He opened his mouth to say 
something, but she didn't give him a chance.

"She could have been seriously burned....I leave you with 
your kids for just one day and...."

"They don't feel like my kids, okay," he exploded.  "They 
don't feel like my goddamed kids and you don't feel like my 
wife, and this doesn't feel like my f**king life, and I still 
haven't found my sister.  I can't believe I'd have kids, Dana. 
I can't believe I'd bring them into danger and I can't believe 
I would do this to myself without finding Samantha..."  He 
pointed in sort of no direction at the kitchen...at things in 
general.

"Goddam you, Fox Mulder,  you wanted the kids as much 
as me, and I've always helped you look for Samantha....I've 
never stopped helping you look for your sister."

"When...when do we do it....huh....Dana?" he inquired 
sarcastically.  "Between picking up ToysRUs everyday, or 
between changing green shitty diapers, or listening to that 
kid cry all the time?  When Dana?  When do I get to look 
for my sister?  When do you get to help me?  All you seem 
to think about is looking after them and trying to get me to 
f**K you at night."

Brenda screamed in Dana's arms hysterical at the fighting.  
Patrick stood in the doorway crying and scared and 
miserable nasty green stuff dripping down his leg.  Dana 
had really had enough.  All vestiges of control fled.

"Ever since your accident, all I've heard is me me me me 
me......." she screamed at him.  "Go look for your damned 
sister right now for all I care.  Go look and don't come 
back.  Hell, I've got to do everything by myself anyway, and 
if I need a man, I'm sure I'll find one willing to oblige.  You 
don't want me and you can't even change the baby when he 
needs it.  Who the hell needs you?  Maybe you should have 
died in that accident.  Maybe we all would have been better 
off."

She hadn't meant to say that but she didn't care.  She was 
too furious to care.
 
"I've been changing him all day...." he started to reply 
shocked at her words and the shrewish screaming.

"Well, you'd never know it to look at him now. You've been 
such a bastard.....didn't it ever occur to you, Fox Mulder, 
that even if these kids don't feel like yours, they are mine 
and you could try to be fond of them for just that reason 
alone?   We were partners.  We were friends.  We cared 
about each other even back then..even where you are in 
time now.  When I lost months out of my life, I didn't stop 
caring about you when I got back.  Now get the hell out and 
leave me alone."

"Fine....great.  I'm going and I don't, by the way, need your 
permission."  He walked towards the door and snatched up  
his jacket .  "I'll stay at a hotel until I can find a damned 
apartment and you can have as many men over as you 
damned well pleased!  They might even f**k you until they 
get to know what a  bitch you are."  He went out slamming 
the door behind him ignoring the pain shooting through his 
head.

Dana didn't know how she did it, but she finally got both 
the children calmed and bathed and in pajamas.  Patrick got 
a dinner of Rice Chex and bananas and acetaminophen as 
she cursed incoming teeth.  She managed to get half a 
container of yogurt into Brenda with a little bit of fruit 
salad, and then it was off to bed for both of them.  They 
had adjusted to the fact that Fox didn't read to them at 
bedtime anymore, and quickly fell asleep.

With a sigh, Dana looked around the house and began to 
pick everything up.  It didn't really take long.  She had it 
down to a science.  It did take awhile to put the files back 
in order, but some of them were irreparably stained. 

With a sigh, she hit the shower and scrubbed herself clean 
and then went downstairs.  When had her life become such 
a nightmare?  Why had her life become one?  She was 
suddenly overwhelmed with guilt for having thrown him 
out after saying such terrible things to him.  If he had died, 
she would not have wanted to live.  He was a sick man...a 
man with a head injury, amnesia....maybe brain damaged, 
and she had sent him out on a snowy night after telling him 
she wished he was dead.  Still, she was human too.  She 
had feelings and needs and wants, and she was tired....but 
he needed her...needed her to be patient and loving and 
kind.  He was at a hard place in his life and she hadn't 
supported him.  

On the other hand, the bouts of moodiness and nastiness 
were so hard to take.  It was as though all his negative traits 
had been exaggerated by the head injury.  They had had 
difficult times in the past, but not like this. The last time 
they had been so at odds had been because he was angry 
that she had put their unborn child's life in jeopardy.  At 
least then, he had had a legitimate reason even if he hadn't 
handled it well.   All she could do, she realized, was pray 
he stayed out of trouble, pray he got in touch with her.  
If....no....when he did, she would apologize for losing her 
temper.  Maybe it would be better if he did move out for 
awhile....maybe if she gave him space.....Face it, he might 
be more cooperative from a distance.  Well, dwelling on it 
wasn't going to help.  She would do what she had to do 
when the time came.  She decided she needed to keep 
herself busy so she sat down at the desk in the office and 
began to pay some bills which were close to being overdue.  
Everything was falling apart including her and she couldn't 
afford to.  She was a mother and her children needed her.

End Chapter 10

"Amnesia" Chapter 11
by Macspooky


Mulder slammed the front door behind him, slammed it 
loudly.  It was still snowing but not has hard.  He took a 
few deep breaths.  The cold air cleared his head a little.  He 
thought for a moment about walking to the garage and 
taking out his Mustang...taking it out and skidding on the 
ice and smashing into a tree.  He could make Scully happy 
and end all this misery.  He didn't think about it very long 
though.  Somewhere out there, Samantha was still waiting, 
and if he killed himself, who would look for her?  Who 
would take care of her?  Scully would inherit all his 
money....and....

No that wasn't fair.  Scully would take care of his sister if 
she ever showed up.  Scully had never been mercenary 
about money, but he couldn't rely on her to look for 
Samantha.  Not any more.  It just didn't mean anything to 
her now and would mean even less if he were gone.  He 
started to walk.  Mulder knew he was in trouble, real 
trouble.  Something was wrong with his mind, his brain.  
He couldn't think straight.  He didn't know what to do.  His 
hands started to shake as pain shot through his head again.  
Seeing a phone booth on the corner, he knew he had to do 
something.  He dropped a quarter into the slot and dialed 
Roberta's number.   She would be able to tell him what do 
to next.  He would tell her that Dana had thrown him 
out.....No answer...She was gone out somewhere.  Well, 
therapists had lives too.  Even though it wasn't late, she 
may have seen her last patient for the day and gone out to 
dinner somewhere.

He began to walk.  He didn't have any particular destination 
in mind.  He supposed sooner or later he would have to find 
a hotel....go back and get his things....look for an 
apartment.  Maybe there would be one available in his old 
complex.  Rents there weren't too bad....Hell...he didn't 
need to worry about that.

He found himself standing in front of a seedy bar.  It was a 
real dive.  He had never been a heavy drinker, but 
periodically he had come to this place with the Gunmen 
and tied one on.  Yeah....it was a great place for losers, 
perfect for the Gunmen....more than perfect for him.  
Although he found the saloon smell emanating from 
beyond the door faintly nauseating, he opened it and 
stepped in.  Maybe he would just drink himself into a 
stupor and forget his misery for awhile even though he 
really didn't like to drink.

Frohike looked up and saw him before the other two men 
he was with.

"Hey, look who it is....It's Muldy Man," he said holding up 
his glass.

"Jeez," said Byers, "You look like shit, Mulder.  Come over 
and have a drink."

"Wife let you out for the night, Byers?" he inquired 
staggering to the booth and setting himself down.

"More like threw him out," snorted Langley.

"Well, Byers, welcome to the club," said Mulder.  "Well, 
maybe....I mean the woman who says she is my wife threw 
me out but who the hell knows....I mean I'm still waiting 
for Scotty to beam me out of this alternate universe."

"My wife didn't throw me out," said Byers.  "In fact, I've got 
to get home....like an hour ago or no nooky tonight."  He 
got up and put a few bills on the table.  "Take care of 
yourself, Mulder," he said, "And don't get too drunk.  
Alcohol isn't good for a man with a head injury."

Langley got up too.  "Gotta go myself," he said looking at 
Mulder with concern.  "Sorry I can't stay and hang around 
with you losers, but I have a lead on a story."

"Oh, you mean that black haired hooker who claims to 
have been abducted by aliens?" inquired Frohicke.  He 
pulled a box out of his pocket and tossed it to Langley.  
"Here buddy....they glow in the dark.  Use two.  That one is 
dangerous."

"Thanks pal, " smirked Langley.  "I'll keep that in mind."  
He waved at Mulder who suddenly found himself alone 
with Frohicke.  Well, it wasn't his therapist, but it was 
better than being alone he supposed.

"So what's up, Troll Man?" inquired Mulder.

"I'm fine, Muldy," said his friend with genuine concern, 
"which is more that I suspect can be said for you at the 
moment."

"Hey, I'm fine.  I'm great, Frohicke," replied Fox.

"Considering you damned near got killed in a supposed car 
accident and can't remember the last two years?"

"Yeah," replied Fox.  The waiter came around and he 
ordered a beer.  Somehow he didn't think he could take 
anything any stronger.  The thought of getting drunk and 
being hung over made his head hurt even more.

"You know, it's really too bad.  I mean...it really sucks...." 
said his friend.  "I mean isn't it just well life?  You can't 
forget the miserable times..like the time Scully was gone.  
Instead you get to forget the happy shit."

"Everyone keeps telling me I was happy.  It doesn't feel like 
I was happy Troll Man..."  The beer came and Mulder 
knocked back a big slug.

"Well, you were.  What's not to be happy about?  Hell, I 
always did say that Scully was hot.  You got to go home 
and do her every night while I looked at Celebrity Skin 
and....Never mind.  Anyway what I'm trying to say Muldy 
Man is that judging by the way she looked, you both really 
enjoyed it.  I don't know what the hell your problem is now, 
but last time I saw her, she looked just exhausted."

"She just doesn't feel like my wife, Frohicke...." he blurted 
out.  "I can't live with her...and those kids...."

"Oh, Mulder, why don't you just stop the 
bullshit...huh....She doesn't feel like your wife....Jeez, you 
were so in love with her....There was just about no dealing 
with you when she was missing.  So what the hell if she 
doesn't feel like your wife or you don't remember the 
ceremony?  You love her.  She loves you. And the kids are 
great.  Stop feeling so goddamed sorry for yourself and go 
and have a life already.  I were you, I'd take Scully any day, 
amnesia or no amnesia."

Mulder chugged back the rest of his beer and sat staring for 
a long time saying nothing.  Frohicke was being obnoxious, 
but then that was Frohicke.  Had to love the guy anyway.  
Or was he...being obnoxious?

"You know what I think the real problem is here, Mulder?" 
asked his friend a little more gently seeing how deeply 
disturbed the man looked.

"Do enlighten me, please."

"I suspect that Dana has been endlessly patient with you.  
You've probably be treating her like shit and she hasn't said 
a word, when what she should have done was kick you in 
the ass the day you got out of the hospital just to snap you 
back into line.  The thing is...see...she's a woman.  She 
takes her marriage vows seriously, and she loves you.  She's 
got kids, and she wants to keep her family together.  Most 
of all, Mulder, she loves you more than anything, and she 
would rather die than lose you although she won't because 
of the children."

"What would you know about family?" he snapped.

"Enough to know that if I had one, I would want to try to 
keep it, Mulder, to try to work things out."

Mulder gazed a Frohicke for a long time.  It occurred to 
him that his friend truly was a very lonely man.  It was kind 
of sad really.  Troll Man wasn't much to look at, but he was 
a fundamentally decent human being.  If he could meet the 
right woman, he would be a good husband, a good father.  
In a strange sort of way, Scully might have been better off 
with a man like Frohicke.  Everyone thought he was a 
loser, but he wasn't,  not really.  The real loser was himself, 
Fox Mulder, wealthy, supposedly good looking, 
intelligent...a man who had it all...except the brains he had 
been born with.

Frohicke had started to wonder if he hadn't overstepped his 
bounds.  With Mulder it was hard to know.  He was a good 
guy....a really good guy, but there was a side to him that 
was...well....not so nice and the head injury seemed to have 
brought that side to the foreground.  Finally Mulder got to 
his feet and Frohicke sighed.  He supposed he had just lost 
a good friend.

"Thanks, Frohicke," said Fox quietly.  He reached into his 
wallet and placed money on the table for the drink.  "I'll 
never forget you for this.  See you soon...huh?"

Mulder turned and walked out of the bar into the freezing 
cold night.  God, it wasn't even 9:30 yet and it felt as 
though it should be 2 AM.

End Chapter 11


"Amnesia" Chapter 12

by Macspooky


Fox stood outside the front door of his home for a moment 
hoping that Dana would let him back in.  He still wasn't 
really sure about anything.  No that wasn't true.  He was 
sure that he was still very confused, but he did know that he 
didn't want to leave things as they had been when she had 
told him to get out.  Hell, he would have stormed out in 
another minute anyway but it would not have been the right 
thing to do. If Dana really wanted it, he would move out for 
awhile and give her space, but he hoped at least to make 
some sort of peace with her tonight and to try to leave the 
possibility open for trying again soon.  

Maybe space was what they both needed, space in which 
they could become friends again and eventually maybe 
lovers.  Poor Dana.  Literally everyone he had spoken with 
since his return had told him that they had a very physical 
relationship, always touching....like newlyweds.  Everyone 
had told him how much in love they had been and how he 
had adored his family.  She had lost all that now.  This was 
something he had failed to consider.  As he had walked up 
to the townhouse with the beautiful stained glass windows, 
it had occurred to him that perhaps in a way it was easier 
for him.  He had lost all the memories, but she had lost her 
husband, the father of her children, her lover...... He put his 
key in the lock and turned it.  Then he punched the required 
security codes and went inside. The house was very quiet.  
He peeked into the living room.  Empty.  The family room 
had been picked up.  All the files were neatly stacked and 
the spilled coffee had been wiped up.  Dana had been busy.  
Dana...always organized...always neat...his antithesis.

It was as he passed toward the kitchen that  he saw her.  
She was sitting at his desk in the small office, but she was 
slumped over, her face buried in her arms.  Her shoulders 
shook slightly and then stilled.  Apparently, she hadn't 
heard him come in.  He tiptoed up behind her and gazed at 
her red hair hanging down over her shoulders.  It was so 
beautiful.  How could he have made such a hateful 
comment to her about finding redheads unappealing? Ever 
so gently he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, "It's me.  It's um....Spook....you 
know."

Arms went around his waist as she buried her face in his 
mid section.

"Oh, Mulder....I'm sorry.  Just let me hold you for minute.  
Just let me pretend I still have my husband and that he 
loves me.  I miss him so much.  I love you, Mulder.  I did 
even before New Mexico, but I miss Fox.  I miss the man I 
was married to and had children with."

"Oh, Dana, I love you too...." he heard himself say suddenly 
realizing that everything Frohike had said really was true.  
He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her . 
"God, I  got to thinking about what it was like when you 
were gone. I've been feeling so sorry for myself because I'm 
missing time, but you've missed time too.  I've been 
selfish...."

She rubbed her face against him.  "If you....if you want to 
move out....I understand...."  She looked up at him and 
suddenly he knew he didn't.  He bent down and kissed her 
forehead. 

"No, angel....no.  I.....I want us to try again....starting 
now....and here."

He carried her upstairs and made love to her with a hunger 
not even she realized that he possessed.  It was as though 
he had been waiting forever to have her, and she realized 
that to him it was the first time, like it was new, and that he 
had loved her even back then, even after New Mexico 
when she had gone along with Walter in cutting a deal with 
the consortium.  When he was finished filling and fulfilling 
her, she stretched out next to him touching as much of him 
as she could.

"Anam Cara," she whispered softly in his ear.

"What is that, angel?" he asked her inhaling the scent of her 
hair.  His body felt relaxed and he felt mellow and content 
with her curled up against him in the bed.

"Soul friend....you have always been my anam cara and you 
always will be." 

He did not need to reply for she had already fallen asleep, 
into the first really good sleep she would be getting in 
weeks, he realized.  He dozed off his body spooned behind 
her.

Morning came too quickly but he awoke at the crack of 
dawn and eased himself away from her.  He realized that 
for the first time since the accident, he was waking up 
without his head causing him agony.  Dana, his anam cara, 
stirred but didn't awaken.  He looked at her and smiled.  
Everything felt different this morning, better somehow, and 
he had had a beautiful dream, a dream in which he sat in a 
beautiful place with his arms around Dana as strange 
haunting music passed over and around him, a dream in 
which he could smell her sweet scent and feel her soft hair 
under her chin as he rocked her in time to the sound of 
pipes from a strange and different place.

It had snowed during the night, a beautiful wet snow. The 
world had turned to white and it was Saturday and neither 
of them had to work.  He went to the bathroom and 
showered and shaved.  When he came out of the bathroom, 
he heard the sound of whimpering.  Peeking into the babies' 
room he saw Patrick sitting up in his crib.  Poor Patrick.  
He went in and thought about Dana's words, that if he 
couldn't love Patrick as his own son, he could at least try to 
be fond of the boy because he was hers.  Oddly enough 
though, since last night, since holding Dana and loving her 
and filling her with himself, it felt for the first time as 
though the child really could be his.

"What's the matter big guy?" whispered Fox.  "Teeth hurt?  
Tummy hurt?"  He approached the crib.  For a moment the 
boy backed away.  Fox realized just how much he had been 
acting like his father toward the child.  Patrick had grown 
afraid of him, and Dana had told him that he and the boy 
had been best buddies.

"It's okay, Wally Wolf," he said using the stupid name Dana 
had told him he had called his son, pulling the child into 
his arms.  "You are all wet, big fellah....Come on.  Let's get 
changed and we'll go downstairs and get you something to 
eat that  your mother wouldn't approve of.  Now you'd like 
that wouldn't you?"

No sooner did he have Patrick in dry overalls than Brenda 
was awake.  He set the little boy on the floor and got her.  
She required a simple diaper change and he took them both 
downstairs.  "Be quiet," he admonished.  "Let's let your 
poor mother get some sleep."

Dana woke up slowly and stretched languorously.  The bed 
felt so wonderful, warm and comfortable.  She reached 
over for her husband but he wasn't there.  She sat up and 
blinked.  Could the night before have been just a dream?  
No.  It had been real.  Her body was telling her that.  It was 
relaxed and at ease.  Fox had come home and carried her 
upstairs and made love to her until they were both 
exhausted.  They had whispered beautiful things to each 
other. It had felt as though the weight of the world had 
lifted off of her shoulders after the nightmare the day had 
been.  Her body and heart felt oh so many pounds lighter.  
What was wrong though?  Wait....the babies.  The babies 
hadn't awakened her.  She leapt out of bed and raced to 
their room.  The cribs were both empty.  Dirty night clothes 
had been tossed on the floor so that meant that Fox must be 
with them.  She tensed for an instant.  She had left Fox 
with them yesterday....look what had happened.  She made 
a brief pit stop and headed downstairs where her nostrils 
were assailed by the scent of her favorite butter rum 
gourmet coffee.  She went to the kitchen and stopped and 
smiled.

Fox was sitting at the kitchen table with both the babies in 
the high chairs.  Patrick had what she always called his 
Mulder grin on his little face as he stuffed it with 
pancakes....not the homemade kind, just the Price Club 
frozen kind, but pancakes none the less and Brenda was 
sitting in her chair a pancake in her fist.

"Da Da ack......Da Da ack....." she was telling it.  " Ben 
eet....Ben eet...." She took a little bite.

"Good girl," said Fox.  Dana snuck up behind him and 
kissed the back of his neck.

"Morning, Spook," she smiled.  "Hi, babies......" 

"Da da ack....." announced Brenda.

"I know he is, sweetie," she said kissing her baby girl's 
head. 
 
"Well, Scully, I don't know if da da is exactly ack," he 
grinned, "but I'm here.  Think they'd settle for Uncle 
Mulder for awhile?"

"Just so long as they can call you dada," she smiled.


Although his headache wasn't gone totally, it had receded 
to the point where he felt pretty good.  He got up and put 
his arms around her and felt  himself react accordingly.  
She pulled him just a little bit closer and gave him a 
surreptitious pat in the appropriate spot.

"Later, when the kids take a nap," she promised.  She 
turned and they both realized that Patrick had chosen that 
moment to clap his hands and they started laughing. 

"You, sit," ordered Fox.  "I'm bringing you some of my 
delicious nutritious frozen Price Club pancakes for 
breakfast.  You've lost way to much weight, Scully.  I like 
my women soft and round and.....redheaded...."

She looked at him and smiled.  For a moment he was 
transported back to that horrible day he had reluctantly 
awakened in the hospital in Alaska and wished he were 
dead until Dana Scully had looked at him and smiled just 
like that.

He got a lot of files read that day in spite of spending time 
with the kids.  He even did a profile for that moron Colton 
who was supposedly now Melissa's boyfriend.  Strangely in 
spite of still having a bit of a tummy ache, Patrick didn't 
cry. He spent a lot of time curled up next to Fox sometimes 
playing with his feet, other times babbling and being pesky, 
but to a large extent just sitting close to the man who was 
his father.  Even Dana said he was being remarkably placid 
for Patrick.  Fox realized that the presence of the children 
on either side of him felt good, that even if he couldn't 
remember their birth, they were a part of Dana.  She was 
right.  That was enough, at least for now.  He wore her out 
during their nap time, not that she minded, and joked with 
her about how he hadn't known he'd had it in him, to which 
she replied that that was because it wasn't...it was in her 
which was her favorite place for it to be. They had laughed 
together and she had kissed him in all his favorite 
erogenous zones, but he had fallen asleep at that point.  
When the babies woke up, they had even taken them out in 
the snow for a little while.  Patrick didn't like it and cried, 
of course, but Brenda studied it carefully and then began to 
explore aggressively. 

When the babies had gone to bed that night, Aunt Sophia 
had stopped up.  She was looking and feeling much better 
and told them she would be able to watch the babies on 
Monday with no problem.  They had shared tea and some 
conversation, but seeing the two of them acting like 
newlyweds again, she had decided that everything was 
going to be all right and left.  She was still very tired in any 
case.

Dana convinced him that he needed to watch "UFO 
Chasers" with her.  Instead of growing annoyed with her as 
he had the week before, he agreed.  She made popcorn and 
they settled down on the sofa. 

Fox took one look at Agent Sally Selkirk.

"Hey....uh....Shorts...." he asked feeling silly using the 
nickname, but making the effort none the less, "Uh....how 
come I never got a partner with a pair of hooters like that?"  
Suddenly he was filled with a sense of deja vu as though he 
had had this conversation before, but he couldn't imagine 
where. 

"Well, as Assistant Director Skinner once told you when 
you asked the same question, because your partner takes 
after her mother."

"Walter Skinner did not tell me that."

"Yes he did.  We were in Ireland. You were both pretty 
drunk."  She recognized she was on shaky ground 
discussing Skinner.  Mulder had been more or less willing 
to accept certain things, but the fact that he had been close 
to Skinner was not one of them.  Even today he had told 
her that he still couldn't believe that he and Skinner had 
been close and he had been extremely amenable today.  
Fox decided to let the matter drop.  He couldn't warm up to 
Skinner and probably never would, not after he had found 
the man holding a gun on Scully that time.  

He watched silently for awhile, his arm around Dana's 
shoulders periodically laughing outloud.  Jeez, the show 
was so dumb.....but there was something about Weird 
Winters and his partner chasing after the giant insect in the 
New York City sewers.  He muttered something.

"What was that, Spook?"

"I said I'm beginning to wonder if the Lone Gunmen didn't 
write this."

"Nothing would surprise me," she laughed.  "They must 
make money somehow and I don't think it is selling 
magazines."

She noticed that he was silent for a long time, didn't move 
even after the show was over and the popcorn gone.

"What is it, Fox?" she asked gently.  "What's wrong?"

"Who was Bambi Berenbaum?"  he asked.  Funny, but 
whenever the name popped into his mind, he began to think 
about Raid.  He could almost smell it.

"An entomologist.  You worked a case in Massachusetts.  
Killer roaches...well, not really killer roaches, but everyone 
thought they were killer roaches."

"I worked a case?"

"You went up there without me.  It was a weekend off."

"Oh.....and Bambi?"

"Very pretty.  Brilliant if you are into bugs.  You were very 
attracted to her."  Dana sighed.  "If what I heard through 
the motel room wall was any indication, she breeds like a 
roach too....."

"Meow," he laughed.  Then he turned suddenly serious.  
"We weren't married then were we?  I mean.....I wasn't 
cheating on you was I cause......"

"No.  We weren't married or anything else for that matter," 
she assured him, "only it hurt because I loved you even 
then and to hear the two of you making love.....I wanted it 
to be me.  We had some rough times around then. You 
weren't happy about cutting the deal after New Mexico and 
I was having a hard time about Missy having gotten shot in 
my place....and then...well, I guess I got pretty bitchy for 
awhile especially after Bambi and Detective White."

"Detective White?"

"The case of the teenagers from hell and the unharmonic 
convergence.  I don't know.  It was weird.  I don't like to 
think about it.  God, when I walked into that motel room 
and saw that woman on top of you, I could have killed both 
of you."

"Hmm....I'll have to make sure I read that file."  He kissed 
her head. There was a sitcom coming on, "Third Planet 
from the Sun."  It caught his interest.  In a few moments, 
they were both laughing themselves silly and he thought 
that maybe Walter Skinner had been right about one thing 
when Mulder had confronted him about going back to 
work.  Maybe it wasn't as important that he remembered 
what had been as it was that he started to appreciate what 
he had now.  He hugged Scully....Dana...just a little closer 
to him.  For the first time since he had awakened he felt 
something close to peace.

End Chapter 12


"Amnesia" Chapter 13
by Macspooky


Dana felt relaxed for the first time in weeks.  Even though 
Fox still didn't have his memory back, things had been so 
much better over the past week.  Her mom had cooked up a 
storm and sent her a lot of everything so that she hadn't had 
to do much cooking.  Sophia was back to her normal 
exuberant good health and Bill was doing a marvelous job 
on the renovations to the house next door, so the older 
woman was getting excited about moving into her "first 
real home" where "her" babies would come and play 
everyday.  They had even managed to find a few moments 
together to discuss some interior decorating ideas which 
Dana had enjoyed.  As much as she loved her job, there 
were times when she did find herself longing for more 
traditional "women's things." She loved Aunt Sophia as 
though the woman were her own family. It was good to see 
her enthusiastic over owning a home, and better yet that the 
home would be right next door with a connecting entrance.

Fox's headaches had not completely left him.  If he tried to 
remember, he continued to get sharp pains in his head, but 
it was no longer constant.  In fact, to her delight two days 
had gone by in which he hadn't needed to take any 
medication and then it had only been half a dose when he 
did.  Perhaps his brain was healing.  In fact, she had felt 
confident enough of him to leave the children with him for 
a few hours while she did some shopping for clothes.  The 
twins seemed to outgrow things so quickly.  To her delight, 
she had come home to find Mulder with a baby dangling on 
each hip.  Well, he didn't have hips, so it was more like 
they were just dangling.  Both of them were screaming, but 
when she walked in instead of looking annoyed or guilty, 
he had looked at her and given her his best Mulder grin.

"Hey, look Scully, I managed to get both of them crying at 
once and I did it all by myself."

She had had to laugh as she took one little one from him 
and they had sat down on the couch.  There had been a 
little too much rough housing and the kids were just a little 
bit...well more than a little bit late for their naps, but 
apparently the three of them had been having the time of 
their lives.

The next day had been Monday.  She had gone to see 
Skinner and told him that she thought it was time he be 
allowed to come back to work....half days only and light 
duty.  She and Both, when he was around, would handle the 
field work.  If Mulder continued to progress he would be 
returned to full time duty in a few weeks.

Skinner had agreed.  Mulder hadn't looked really happy as 
he had stood in front of his boss, but to Walter's surprise, 
Mulder had kept his mouth shut and agreed to the terms of 
his return to the X-Files.  Of course, there was a part of him 
that would have liked to have knocked the scowl off his 
son in law's face, however, the man was not insubordinate 
and he decided that in this case patience was a virtue.  He 
told Mulder to get his ass down to the basement.  There 
were some profiles waiting to be looked at.

Mulder had done so.  The office was empty although there 
was definitely evidence of another person sharing the 
space, a person that wasn't Scully.  The other desk was 
immaculate.  In an 8 by 10 plain brown picture frame was a 
photo of an older but lovely black woman, her hair close 
cropped and three beautiful young girls.  Next to it say a 
lovely carved face mask.  Mulder thought the woman's 
features were just beautiful.  He suspected that the mask 
was West African.  The way the cheeks had been marked 
disturbed him, but he recognized that  for what it 
was...cultural bias.  Whoever had carved the mask had 
found the markings a thing of beauty.

The door opened and a tall dark man entered.  He looked 
briefly surprised to see Mulder standing there.  Then he 
walked across the office and held out his hand.

"Agent Dewayne Bothrington," he said casually but 
politely.  "I am aware that you do not remember me, Agent 
Mulder.  I wasn't expecting you, but it is good to have you 
back.  The X-Files are not the same without you.  In fact, 
they are not even the real X-Files in your absence."

Mulder shook the man's hand.  He liked the way it felt, firm 
but not painfully so.  He realized that he liked this 
man....immediately....a very rare phenomenon for him.

The next day Scully went down to the basement office to 
check on him.  He hadn't said much about his first morning 
back.  She feared there might be some tension between 
Mulder and Both.  Mulder had been a real lone wolf two 
years ago.  Heck, it had taken him a long time to accept her 
as a partner.  She stumbled upon  a sight that left her 
dumbfounded.  He and Both both had their feet up on their 
desks.  They were sitting there shooting paper wads into the 
waste basket debating the merits of large breast size versus 
small breast size....feel, texture, weight.....They had not 
been talking about Frank Merdue's chickens either.  Dana 
had stood quietly listening for a moment the two men 
unaware of her presence.  It was one interesting way to 
learn about her husband's past, and indeed there had been 
more than just Phoebe in it.  Of course, she could have 
done without Mulder's explaining to Both, that gee, after a 
woman had a baby it seemed her nipples got larger from 
nursing....that struck a little close to home...but.... Also, for 
a moment she had experienced a pang of jealousy, not only 
about the women who had known him intimately, but 
because of the easy camaraderie that Fox and Both were 
experiencing. She quelled it quickly.  The women were in 
his past, and it was good to see Fox at ease with a male 
coworker for once.   She thought perhaps that he had 
missed this sort of male camaraderie during the time they 
had been partnered.  She smiled slightly and tiptoed away 
before they noticed she was there.  Fox was doing fine.  
Amnesia or not,  he seemed to like his new staff member 
he was content with her breasts even if they didn't rival 
Frank Merdue's famous chickens for size and weight.

Between the fact that he was bonding with the children 
again and that he was back at work, for the first time in a 
long time she felt relaxed inspite of a court appearance and 
two really gruesome autopsies later that day.  Maybe soon 
they would even get an X-file to investigate.  Things had 
been slow in the paranormal department lately, but now 
Fox would start to get restless if one didn't come along 
soon.  Hopefully when it did, Fox would be ready to return 
to work full time.

As the days passed, the headaches continued to dissipate 
and the medication wasn't making him feel tired and cranky 
because he didn't need to take much of it now.  He and 
Both had done a few profiles together, not  X-files of 
course, but some interesting cases none the less, and he had 
been impressed by Both's mind. Not only was it keen, but it 
was open, a rarity indeed, something he had not found in a 
partner before, not even in Scully.   No one would ever 
replace her, but if she couldn't be with him, he realized that 
Both was good backup.  It was amazing how they could 
look at the same file and taking a completely different 
mental approach reach the same conclusion.   Hell, they 
had even had some real one on one guy talk while they 
competed as to who could shoot the most paper balls into 
the trash can.  Both had revealed a preference for larger 
women, larger in general.  Fox had told him how he 
favored brunettes.  It had gotten really down and dirty and 
Fox had been glad that Dana hadn't been around to hear it, 
but it had felt nice to have a good working relationship 
with a male partner for once.  Jeez, he had very nearly lost 
it when he found out that  other agents had begun calling 
them Spooky and the Voo Doo man.  Both had caught him 
cursing them, and told him to chill.  The next time he had 
had to make a call out of the office, to Tom Colton 
naturally, he had said with an evil grin, "Hello Tom.  
Voodoo Man here.  Spooky is back at work and we both 
think your profile sucks.  Here is where you went 
wrong......"  When he had hung up the phone he had 
shrugged and muttered something to the effect that "If you 
can't beat em...join em....or at least let them think you had."  
In a leap of insight, the kind that Mulder was famous for, 
he realized that he had just found the key to Dewayne 
Bothrington, and that in allowing him to see it, Both had 
made a statement about where his loyalties lie.  When he 
had seen Both sign a memo from the department Spook 
Patrol, he had just about died laughing.  He wondered why 
he hadn't thought about doing that himself.


Several nights later, Dana brushed her hair quickly and her 
teeth and got into bed.  Fox was already asleep.  He 
appeared to be resting quietly, and she was pleased.  Sleep 
was the best thing for him.  She was admittedly surprised 
and she chuckled silently as she pulled the covers up over 
herself.  He sure hadn't beat her to sleep any other night 
during the week.  In fact, he had very nearly worn her out.  
It had been as though he hadn't had sex in months and 
months, but of course, from where he was mentally he 
hadn't.  He had been a newlywed.  It had been kind of fun.  
Well, more than kind of fun, but she could use a night's 
sleep. She smiled hoping the babies would slumber through 
the night and dozed off promptly.

Dana was awakened not by the cry of a baby, but by her 
husband thrashing around in the bed next to her.  He was 
having a nightmare.  Over the years she had known him she 
had become accustomed to his bad dreams,  but this one, 
she sensed, was worse than normal.

Fox Mulder had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit 
the pillow.  Life that week had been almost good.  After the 
fight he had had with Dana, and the way that they had 
made up, he had found himself feeling much more relaxed.  
Yes, making up had indeed been one of the high points in 
his life.  Since he didn't remember marrying her, it had 
been like the first time.  He realized that he had been a fool 
in the prior weeks.  He had been stupid to try to fight his 
feelings for her.  Unfortunately, he would have to be 
grateful to Frohike for doing what not even Roberta could 
do, making him realize that he loved Dana, had always 
loved her, and  that he would be throwing away a treasure 
if he continued on the way he had been.  If she hadn't 
forgiven him.....

Unfortunately, the deep peaceful sleep did not last for long. 
Suddenly he was 12 years old again and they were taking 
Samantha away.  Fox began to sweat and toss and turn in 
his sleep.  Then the dream faded and he was in the shed, in 
the shed with his father.  The angry look on the man's 
face...the look that said, "It's your fault your sister is gone" 
was terrifying.  Drinking, his dad had been drinking even 
more heavily than before.  He felt the pain as the 2 by 4 
came crashing into his arm breaking it...and his head....and 
Ed's voice in the background....and then suddenly he was in 
that place...that place where they had taken him.  He was 
big.  He was supposed to be able to take care of himself, 
but he was 12 and the others were 16 and 17 and bigger and 
stronger and there were so many......pulled from the 
shower....he was being pulled from the shower......"I'm not 
a girl......I'm not a girl......"

"My, God, Fox.....my God....."  Dana was suddenly there.  
He was not longer asleep but was shaking violently.  She 
pulled him into her arms, but he could feel that she was 
trembling too.  "Fox, what is it?  Did  you dream about your 
sister?"  Through the cobwebs of sleep still in his brain, he 
heard her concern.

"Leave me alone.  Just leave me alone."  He pushed her 
away and jumped out of bed.  For a moment he paced 
trying to bring his trembling under control wanting nothing 
more than to run away.  He walked to the window. He 
frightened her.  For a moment she feared that she was 
losing him again.

"Come here, sweetheart," said Dana softly.  She had 
stopped calling him that since it had made him so angry, 
and she could see the soft words took him by surprise. He 
went and sat down on the bed.  She reached for some 
Kleenex and wiped the perspiration from his face gently.  
"Whatever it was, Fox, it was only a dream.  It's going to be 
all right."  She looked into his eyes.  This nightmare had 
been worse than the usual dream about his sister.  Was 
brain damage going to manifest itself in a different form 
now that she had him back?  Would he, she wondered, 
never have peace.  Would his sleep be haunted all his life?

"It wasn't a dream.  It wasn't.  It happened.  It really 
happened. "

"Tell me."  She put her arm around his shoulder gently.  
Over the years she had become accustomed to his 
nightmares, but as time had gone by they had lessened until 
after they were married they hardly happened.  This was 
unlike anything she had ever witnessed before though.  
There had been something about the way he had cried out 
in his sleep....

"I can't tell you.  I can't tell anyone. "  Suddenly he lowered 
her down on the bed and put his lips to hers.  He made love 
to her fiercely, not in a hurting way, but in a sort of 
desperation that she had never seen in him no matter how 
had things had gotten.  For an instant she wondered if he 
even knew he was with until he had cried her name over 
and over again.  Dana..Dana..Dana... When he finished, he 
seemed to realize that perhaps he had been out of line, or 
too rough, or something.  He hadn't been.  He had just been 
needy and she had understood.

"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry, love....."

"Fox, there is nothing for you to be sorry about," she said 
gently although he hadn't been himself, had barely 
considered her at all.  "Tell me, please.  Tell me what's 
wrong."

"I'd almost forgotten....almost repressed it.....I had 
repressed it."  Suddenly he was crying in her arms. "In the 
children's center.....in the shower....the big boys....no 
guard.....they grabbed me.  They held me down.  They were =

going to.......oh, God, a social worker walked in the door 
just in time, Dana.....just in time.......I was so scared.  They 
would have taken turns with me. I can't remember ever 
being that scared.....except when Samantha was taken....and 
you were taken and.....my head hurts again." 

She held him and stroked his head, reassuring him that she 
loved him and that everything was going to be all right.  
Finally when his trembling ceased, she sat up.

"Come on, Spookster.  Let's go downstairs and I'll make 
you some hot chocolate."

"With marshmallows?" he asked trying to regain some of 
his dignity.   The shooting pains in his head had died down 
again, thank God. He attempted to give her that  famous 
Mulder grin but didn't quite pull it off.  The dream had 
been so incredibly real and so painful.  And, he had never 
wanted to tell anyone about what had almost happened, 
about how he had almost been....

"If that charming son of yours hasn't eaten them all."  She 
smiled back at him before he could continue his thought.  
The fact that he had told her his head hurt concerned her a 
little, but it was the first headache in awhile, so she told 
herself not to worry too much.  He might continue to have 
them for awhile.

Dana sat across from him.  Silly as it seemed, she was glad 
she had found some marshmallows.  He had always been 
kind of a little kid about things like that, and the longer she 
knew him the more she understood why.  She shuddered at 
the thought of what had nearly happened to him.  People 
thought in terms of females being violated, but they were 
not the only ones.  Young boys could be treated savagely as 
well.  She was grateful that nothing had actually happened.

"It must have been awful for you, Fox," she said softly 
finally addressing the matter that had awakened him from 
his sound sleep.

"It was after that that the social workers found Aunt 
Sophia," he said quietly.  "I think he was kind of well, fond 
of me, you know...cause I was different.  I mean, I think he 
made an extra effort.  Dana, I never told anyone.  I hid it 
even in my therapy.  I mean I was so lucky.  It didn't 
happen, but it was close....so close. I........I didn't mean to 
hurt you tonight when I....I mean.....I just needed you 
then...I..."  He felt confused because he hadn't really had 
the time to be married to her that she had had to be his 
wife....

"Needed to know you were normal.  Needed to know you 
were okay.  Fox, in spite of everything you've been through, 
you are okay and you will continue to be okay.  As for 
being normal, well, normal is boring."  She smiled at him.  
"I fell in love with you because you are Spooky.  In fact, 
your are certifiable, but never dull, and you are the best 
lover I ever had."  She lay her hand across his.

"Hey, G woman, you told me I was the only lover you ever 
had."  He enjoyed the feel of her small hand over his.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."  She told him the story about 
Jack again briefly.  He looked at her for a long time.  It was 
difficult to picture Scully abused,  but sometimes a person 
had to learn the hard way.   Maybe that was why she didn't 
take any crap from anyone anymore, well, except maybe 
him, and why she was so careful about making herself 
emotionally vulnerable.  He didn't understand why he had =

dreamed about his father like that  and why the incident 
had suddenly returned to his mind after all this time, but he 
felt better for having told Dana.  A burden shared was less 
of a burden, and as usual, she had been there for him.  
Could that have been why he fell in love with her, why he 
had finally asked her to marry him, because she was strong 
enough to help him shoulder his burden? 

"Hey, Scully," he asked suddenly changing the subject from 
mutual trauma "whatever happened to all those purple 
panties I bought you........what are you grinning like that 
for?"  A smile had spread across her face and had lit it up.  
She looked incredibly beautiful in that instant.  "What?" 

"You did that on our honeymoon," she explained.  "You 
dragged me to Victoria's Secret and bought me all this 
purple underwear, and then nearly died laughing later when 
you saw how awful it looked, so you ripped them off me 
each night when we..."

"Is that where that stupid bird learned to say <Rip em off 
me?>"

"Yeah...." she grinned.  "We were on the couch and I think 
I screamed <just rip em off me> and ...."

"I did."

"You are always glad to oblige in that regard."  She smiled 
at him again.  "And it's a good thing too, because as I recall 
I was feeling pretty desperate.  What do you say we go 
upstairs again....no wait....what do you say we head for the 
couch again so we don't wake up Patrick......I think there is 
something you need to do for me that you didn't do 
before...."  She grinned at him wickedly, "And I get very 
cranky when I don't have that particular thing done."

"What do you say," he said, "that you come sit in my lap 
right here and I'll do my job without leaving the kitchen."

"And I say that we haven't made appropriate use of this 
kitchen table in a long long time, Mulder.....No wait...the 
leg is loose again, gotta buy a new one.....the kitchen 
counter....yeah...that always works...the kitchen counter...."

"Oh, God....I married wild thing.....how could I forget 
marrying a woman who likes to be loved on a kitchen 
counter..."  he laughed aloud and lifted her.  She was light 
in his arms and wrapped herself around him.  "Counter's 
too far away. "  Her back hit the nearest wall with a thud.  
This was something new.  The possibilities were so 
enthralling she didn't notice.

Suddenly past nightmares were no longer paramount and in 
their onslaught of passion, they both forgot that he had 
actually remembered something that had happened after 
New Mexico, the purple panties he had bought her.


Aunt Sophia was downstairs working on her computers.  
She sighed.  Jeez, judging by the pounding against the 
kitchen wall, if she hadn't known better she would have 
thought he was killing her.  Oh well.  Those screams were 
definitely not ones of pain. She could hear them even 
above her crazy nephew singing "Wild Thing...You make 
my heart sing.." rather breathlessly at the top of his lungs.  
If the past was any indication once they got started in the 
kitchen, she wasn't going to get any work done in this 
computer room although the singing was unusual.  She 
thought it might be a first for the wall too. The table was 
the usual site although admittedly it had been awhile.  She 
exited her program.  She might as well go to bed and sing 
"Memories."  Too many power surges up above for her to 
concentrate.  Wait till they found out how sound carried 
through these heating ducts!  They might never be able to 
face her again.


End of Chapter 13


"Amnesia" Chapter 14
by Macspooky


The man stood in the doorway listening puffing on his 
Morley's.  He felt as though he were among a ship of fools 
as they sat around discussing the experiment.  Had they all 
grown so old and senile that they didn't realize times had 
changed?  The American people had changed.  They didn't 
trust the government anymore.  They didn't expect the 
government to do good, to do what was best for them 
anymore.  Those days were long gone.  The American 
people now believed anything about a cover up....looked 
for coverups...expected coverups....He gave a passing 
thought to that son of a bitch Nixon then scratched it as 
being non productive.  The project was a good thing.  It 
always had been and could still be, if these old fools didn't 
ruin it with their nonsense.  The concept of what they were 
trying to do was fine, but they were idiots if they didn't 
realize how dangerous it was today to pull people off the 
streets and experiment on them.  

"The results have been excellent.  Over 100 male subjects 
from varying locations have been inoculated with the drug.  
So far, not one of them has remembered what has happened 
within the past two to five years.  Roughly five per cent 
were left totally brain damaged remembering nothing, most 
acceptable at this early stage in the experiment..."

"That is a matter of opinion," said the well mannered 
Englishman who liked to think of himself as being in 
charge.

"It is a very new drug," the middle age scientist said 
reciting the statistics said defensively.  "Now....if I may 
continue.....Ten have been hospitalized several times with 
severe headaches that disappeared for a time and returned 
for which no cause can be found.  Four of them committed 
suicide apparently in an episode of severe head pain.  Of 
course," he said in a disapproving tone, "in an uncontrolled 
experiment like this...and given the fact that no one is 
going to look too hard for a cause....it becomes difficult to 
follow up.  We can only assume that the pain ultimately 
became too severe and that pain medication didn't help or 
that they were on illegal drugs and has some sort of a 
reaction."  He had tried to warn the Consortium that results 
in controlled experiments were not reliable.

"We have been over this ground before," snapped a 
German.  "It would have been too dangerous to experiment 
on the sort of subject you wanted at this early stage."

"A lot of these men are junkies....how do you expect...."

"Just do your job," said the Englishman.  "What about the 
FBI Agent?"

"We have not been able to plant the listening devices in his 
home as ordered," said the youngest man in the room and  
the new "head" of security.  He was proud of his new 
position and a bit nervous among these men who did not 
seem to tolerate failure.

"And why not?"

"Because, Sir, we have not been able to penetrate the 
security system.  No one gets in and out of that house 
unwanted.  I've never seen a system like it Sir."

"They have a housekeeper do they not?"

"Unapproachable, Sir. An old family friend.  Can't be 
bought.  She does all the cleaning herself and never sends a 
substitute.  The man in question pays her very well....more 
than well enough for her to report any suspicious inquiries 
on the part of outsiders."

"Everyone is vulnerable.  What about her family? Have you 
threatened...."

"I forbade it," snapped the smoking man.  "It is too 
dangerous right now."

"The baby sitter?" inquired the Frenchman.

"His aunt, Sir.  A millionaire in her own right."  

A mutter went around the table.

"Indeed...." said the Englishman finally.  He realized he had 
slipped.  He should have known this.  He should not have 
assumed that the babysitter was the crazy fortune teller he 
had assumed.  Perhaps the flaky Sophia was not as flaky as 
everyone thought, not if she was related to the old man.  He 
had been a shrewd old bastard.  The project never could 
have been started without him.  It dawned on him suddenly 
that if the old man's daughter were living on the premises, 
it could very well be dangerous to try to penetrate the 
house.  It was necessary, however.

"I want the house bugged," he ordered.  "You aren't being 
paid to make excuses."

"Yes, Sir..."

"Think of it gentlemen...think of the potential here...trained 
agents sent to do a job....an accident...no memory...and no 
murder or assassination to make the police or the world 
suspicious.  Judiciously used by a few knowledgeable 
individuals, and this drug could potentially save covert 
operations."

The standing man took a drag on his Morley.

"Now," asked the Englishman, "has anyone anything to 
report on the FBI Agent?"  He glared at the smoking man.

"Said Agent has returned to work...half time...light duty.  
All indications are that he remembers nothing.  Listening 
devices placed in the therapists office indicate that he is not 
at all suspicious and genuinely believes he was in a car 
accident.  Devices planted in the office indicate the same."

"Well, at least some good news," stated a man who spoke 
with a French accent.  "It is a pity we have not been able to 
bring this man around to our side.  He would be a fine 
player in the coming new order."

The smoking man said not another word.  He was 
astounded by the arrogance.  These people had no concept 
whatsoever about what the new order might mean.  They 
only thought they did.  There was the agenda they had been 
told about, but perhaps there was another agenda as well, 
one that they had been blind to.  Perhaps in the near future, 
none of them would be needed and their quest for power 
would come to naught.  He had always believed that what 
he was doing was right for the country ultimately, but he 
was starting to wonder about some of the others. 
Sometimes he thought he was getting too old for all of 
this...what would be would be....but there was no escape 
now, not if he wanted to live and see the new order in place 
whatever that might be.  As he stubbed out his cigarette and 
said good bye, he had an odd thought.  He found himself 
wondering what it must be like to romp and play with little 
ones.  He pushed that thought aside too.  He had better 
watch himself.


Four Weeks Later

Dewayne Bothrington tapped his fingers idly.  He was 
close.  He knew it.  And the arrogance of it infuriated him.  
Philadelphia, Watts, Harlem.....nearly 100 young men.  
Many of them were junkies, a curse on God's earth, but too 
many of them weren't.  Too many of them were just decent 
men and some of them were exceptional like young Jamal 
Jefferson.  They, whoever they were, had gotten careless 
with Jamal.  The bastards had assumed that every young 
black man living in the ghetto they decided to use was a 
good for nothing and that no one would be paying 
attention, but Jamal had been different.  Killer Dog had 
been right.  Killer Dog, as far gone as he had been, had 
instinctively known that Jamal was special, that Jamal 
would have made it out of the projects.  As  lacking in 
morals as Killer had been, he had seen something different 
in Jamal.  Jamal had been a straight A student, a senior in 
the same high school that his sisters attended.   He had just 
won a scholarship to Notre Dame, an academic 
scholarship, not the kind you won for tossing a ball.  He 
would not have stolen the car that he had been in an 
accident in.  He had his ticket out of the projects in his 
hand.  Jamal really pissed Both off.

Now he had to decide how to handle it.  This was big, as 
big as Mulder had hinted from time to time, so big that he 
doubted he  could stop it.  It was like the flood of crack that 
had come into the city. Bothrington was a pragmatic man 
and doubted very much that he could stop it completely, 
but he sure as hell felt as though he had to try at least to 
slow it down.  He had been spending his days out in the 
factory district in Long Island City Queens. A lot had been 
done to improve and upgrade parts of the area, but there 
were other parts which had been left alone.  Careful 
checking of the records had shown him that a company by 
the name of PharmaKlear had purchased an old warehouse 
and office building and set up shop in a section marred by 
empty warehouses and closed factories.  Then they had 
quietly commenced using dummy corporations buying up 
the land around it so that no one else could move in near 
by.   They had refurbished the buildings nicely.  Everyone 
had praised the young company and there were hopes that 
its presence would begin an economic revitalization for 
that area and perhaps even some new upscale residential 
housing.  Ostensibly PharmaKlear manufactured low cost 
generic over the counter and some prescription drugs 
including some of the psychotropics.  Everyday a slew of 
workers went in and came out.  All appeared normal.  True 
they only ran two shifts leaving the building "empty" at 
night, but the company was fairly new and no one would 
question that.  He had noticed a pattern though.  After the 
main shifts had gone, after it had grown dark, another 
smaller shift had come on duty and these people didn't look 
the same.  These were not factory workers from Columbia 
and Nicaragua and Latvia and even some native born 
Americans.

He wasn't 100% sure of himself of course, but 99% would 
just have to do him in this case.  It had taken him weeks of 
painstaking research to discover that PharmaKlear was the 
only company that fit the bill for what he suspected was 
going on, the illegal manufacture of experimental drugs.  
No matter how deep he attempted to dig, he had not been 
able to  find any connection with government funding, but 
that hadn't surprised him.  He had been limited in what he 
could do.  If it had become known that he suspected 
anything other than what he had put in his formal 
report...that Mulder had been in a car accident, he wouldn't 
have been on the street for a day in one piece.  This was a 
dangerous game he was playing and he hadn't even been 
able to tell Mulder.  He suspected...no he was sure that the 
office was bugged...and that meant some pretty heavy shit.  
It was the goddamed FBI Headquarters after all.  He even 
had to be careful about he  communicated with Skinner.

He finally decided what he had to do.  He went into the 
office of the New York Times and placed an ad for cash in 
the paper.  Then he traveled to the Bronx and went into a 
bar, an upscale place that had just opened in a 
neighborhood that was in the process of revitalization.  It 
had computers.  It was time for Aunt B to send a message.  
He didn't stay long.  There were not a lot of black people in 
this area.  He didn't want to be traceable.  Skinner needed 
to find a way to get himself to the New York Field Office.  
They needed to find a way to get into the factory.

What could Dana say to Aunt Sophia?  The woman never 
took a vacation and had only been sick once.  If she had to 
go out of town, she had to go out of town.  Aislinn was 
back and only had classes in the morning, so Dana arranged 
her work day so that she could go in late and Aislinn would 
watch the twins until Mulder got home.  Her mom would 
help in a pinch, and even her mother's friend who came and 
cleaned for them had always said that in an emergency she 
would try to help out too.

"Don't worry about it, Aunt Sophia," said Dana with a 
smile.  "If your friend in New York is ill, then you have to 
go.  We will manage just fine."  She reached over in the car 
and gave her aunt a quick kiss as the woman popped out of 
the car carrying her one small bag to catch the flight to 
LaGuardia.

On her way home, Dana wondered just what the heck Both 
was doing with himself.  He had asked her if he could 
borrow some money, cash, and she had leant it to him 
without question.  Mulder didn't know of course.  She 
probably would not have done it, except she had the 
strangest feeling that Both was not wiling away his time 
and her money in Jamaica sitting on the beach drinking 
rum punches.  Somehow she sensed that if it hadn't 
concerned Mulder, he would never have asked.  He would 
have too much pride.

As for Mulder, she was growing concerned about him.  Oh, 
everything was still fine between them, and he was really 
very fond of the children now, but once he had returned to 
work full time, his headaches had returned again and they 
were getting worse.


Sophia got off the Flushing line at Queens Plaza.  She was 
on schedule.  It was getting dark.  She thought to herself 
that it had been years since she had been out this way.  It 
was a perfect area for what was happening.  The opening of 
a new plant would be welcome, but parts of it were isolated 
enough that no one would know if any funny business were 
going on.  She ignored the hookers that stood on the 
corners and making certain that no one was following her, 
she took a circuitous route to the place where she was 
supposed to meet Both.  It was a long walk, but the weather 
was decent and she was in remarkably good condition for 
an "old lady."

When she arrived at their headquarters....a derelict factory 
with a rather large rat population, she listened to the black 
man carefully.  As she did so, Sophia was already removing 
her loud garish gypsy clothes under which she wore a 
comfortable black jump suit.

"Do you think...are you sure you can pull this off Sophia, 
because if you get caught....."

"If I get caught Both, what the hell are they going to do 
with me?  Shoot me?  I've lived a long and full life.  
Besides, I have never gotten caught."

"Sounds ominous....."

"Is...." she laughed.  "I just wish I could be sure that Mulder 
will be okay."

"I'm expecting a friend back from Nigeria at any moment," 
he said softly.  "She thinks she might have found 
something."

Sophia nodded.  Both's story had made her sick, and if what 
was happening was any indication, each and every subject 
would eventually wind up dead.  The drug was somehow 
poisonous in a way that had not been anticipated with a 
slow acting toxin that poisoned the body and drove the 
victim mad with pain.  In some it happened faster than in 
others.  When he had told her about Jamal Jefferson, a tear 
had come to her eye.  She wasn't a sentimental woman, but 
the idea of a young man with a mind like that being in such 
agony that he would take a gun, not hard to find in the 
ghetto, and blow his brains out right in front of his mother 
saddened her deeply.  Fox's headaches were coming back 
and Fox had access to all kinds of weapons.  If anything 
happened to him.....

"Okay, this is how it is going to go down," he said.  "You 
are going to break in.  It is imperative that you find this 
drug and make certain that it is left where it can be found.  
In 45 minutes I am going to make an anonymous phone call 
to the FBI and to the hotel of Assistant Director Skinner 
that there is a hostage situation at PharmaKlear and that it 
might involve an international situation....

Sophia nodded.  Both was a brilliant man.  She of course, 
had her own backup plan.

Almost everything went in the fire....everything of course 
except a small fireproof locker that just happened to 
contain two vials of the experimental drug and a computer 
disk with the name of the subjects and the background on 
the experiments.   The files of course were encoded.  
Sophia had known what she had the moment she had 
bypassed security and gotten into the lab.  She hadn't had 
much time, but she was sure she had gotten the right thing.  
The fire had been a little tricky, and not a part of the plans, 
but once she was certain that no one would be injured, she 
had decided that it would be best not to slow them down a 
little but to slow them down a lot.

Both had made his call right on schedule.  By that time, 
however, the SWAT Team and FBI including the Assistant 
Director had been close on the heals of the NYC Fire 
Department. Both had arrived on the scene himself an hour 
later in standard FBI dress.  Sophia had disappeared into 
the night.

"Assistant Director Skinner," he said, "I heard on my 
scanner that something big was going on down here.  I got 
here as fast I could in case you needed some extra help."

"That was most kind of you, Agent Bothrington.  You are a 
very dedicated agent."

"Thank you, Sir. What happened, Sir."

"We got an anonymous phone call that there was a hostage 
situation going on out here and that it might be 
international in scope.  What we found instead was an 
apparent burglary and arson.  Looks like everything was 
destroyed."

"Everything, Sir?" he inquired.

"Well, Agent, nearly.  We found a fireproof locker that had 
been tossed out the window.  In fact, I have it right here.  
You've missed most of the action, however, this could be 
important.  Do you think you might see that it gets to the 
lab in DC yourself?"

"I'm on it, Sir.  My mother is feeling much better again, and 
I'll leave on the next flight."

He didn't of course.  He arranged to miss that one just in 
case there had been ears around.  Very carefully he and 
Sophia took a sample of the drug and made a copy of the 
zip disk she had rescued before torching the place and then 
Both headed for DC via Chicago under a different name 
with a ticket paid for in cash where he knew that in any 
case, the evidence would disappear within 24 hours of him 
checking it in.

He was pleased with the headlines the next day.  
Apparently, he was not the only one who made anonymous 
phone calls.

"Factory of Horrors in Queens Destroyed by Fire"  "Could 
the US Government be Funding Another Tuskegee 
Experiment"  Then there were the tabloids.... "Could Aliens 
Be Running Drug Factory in Queens"

The phone rang in the X-Files Office.

"Oh, hello mama," he said softly.  "Yes, it's in the papers 
here too.  No mama, I didn't have anything to do with it 
until an hour later....honest.  I missed all the good stuff and 
just brought some files back to DC.  Yes, mama, that is 
very good news. I was glad I caught it on the scanner.  I'll 
be up to see you again this weekend just to make sure you 
really are back on your feet again for sure this time. I'm 
glad  your boss was understanding, mama. Okay, maybe I 
will, but only if your promise to cook some of your best 
dishes." 

He hung up the phone.

Mulder looked at him tiredly.  His head was throbbing and 
he thought he would probably have to go home but he was 
fighting it.  He had a feeling that there had been more to 
that factory fire in Queens than anyone had let on, but he 
knew better than to talk about it here.

"That was my mama," said Both.  "She worries."

"She should," grinned Mulder in spite of the headache.  
"Both how the hell...." Mulder stopped and shook his head. 
Some things were best not discussed, especially when  your 
crazy aunt decided to show up for baby-sitting duty the next 
morning with her eyebrows and eye lashes singed off.  
Although he was dying of curiosity, he knew he would be 
told the details when it was safe.

"What mama's are for, Mulder.  Speaking of mama's, I've 
told her so much about you and Scully that she wants the 
two of you to come to New York for dinner this weekend."

Mulder was deeply touched.  "I don't see how we can, Both, 
much as I'd like to.  I mean...with the kids....."  He rubbed 
his head.  He didn't feel up to a trip.  The door to the office 
opened and Scully came in.  "Hi, Voo Doo...."

"Hi, Irish...this hubby of yours is giving me a hard time.  
My mama invited you all up to New York for dinner next 
Sunday and he's arguing with me."

"But what about the kids?" she asked.  "I mean...."

"You bring the kids.  You bring Sophia.  I have three 
sisters.  They'll love the kids. They'll love your aunt who 
can entertain them in the car.  It will be good for you get 
away."

"We'll be there," said Dana looking into the man's dark 
eyes.  Something told her that Sunday dinner in New York 
was going to be very very important and she didn't know 
why.  Aunt Sophia's singed eyelashes hadn't passed her by 
either, and in spite of having found a burned pot in the 
trash, the story about nearly setting the kitchen on fire 
didn't quite wash.

End Chapter 14


"Amnesia" Chapter 15
by Macspooky


The dinner had been both huge and delicious.  Dana found 
herself admiring Both's mother very much.  The apartment 
was small and old, the neighborhood dangerous being so 
close to the crime infested projects, and yet it was spotless.  
She supposed that most of the furniture was second hand, 
gleaned from thrift stores, and that the immaculately 
pressed curtains that hung on the windows were from the 
five and dime, and yet there was something in this house 
that was lacking in the surrounding area.  There was hope.  
Ronetta had succeeded in giving hope to her son and the 
same to her daughters.  She found herself feeling 
comfortable with the woman and her children inspite of the 
fact that all the odds were against it in a society that didn't 
necessarily encourage the mixing of races.  And the girls 
were lovely and simply adored the twins.  They were at the 
age where they loved to play with little children.  
Fortunately in defiance of the odds in this area, they had 
none of their own, and Ronetta had made no hesitation at 
saying right at the dinner table, that her girls were going to 
marry good men and have nice houses before they had 
children...or else....Dana had smiled.  The message had 
been clear.  There was something about Ronetta that 
reminded her of her own mother, strong, unpretentious, and 
with an instinctive knowledge that nothing was more 
important than family.  Her biggest worry at the moment 
was Mulder.  She knew that he was trying to put a good 
face on it, but his head was hurting him again badly and she 
had vowed to make him have yet more tests done when 
they returned to DC.

Dana listened in sympathy as Ronetta told her son  that 
since the week before she had heard that the landlord was 
talking about selling the building and she was afraid they 
might have to find another place to live. Both didn't think 
that news was so bad, but kept his mouth shut.  His family 
had been there for so many years it would be hard for his 
mother to change places now and move away from her 
many friends and nothing could be found for that rent any 
more.  He might have to go back to helping out after all but 
that was okay with him.  He would have liked to see them 
someplace else.

"Time to go for  a walk," said Both.  "Want to show you the 
old neighborhood."

"I don't think I can," said Mulder.  He was the only one who 
hadn't eaten much.  He had explained to Ronetta that it 
wasn't the cooking, that he would like to be his normal self 
and pig out, but that his head hurt very badly since he had 
been in an accident and that it upset his stomach if he hate 
too much.  The woman had nodded politely and smiled 
enigmatically.

"I agree with Both," said Dana.  "The fresh air might do 
you good."

"Fresh air, in New York?"  he inquired with a hint of his 
old Mulder humor.

"I think he is going to live," quipped Sophia dryly.  "I'll 
come along."

"But the children...." said Fox.

"These three girls are not looking to give up those babies 
just yet," she smiled.  "Besides, at their age baby sitting 
money is always nice.  What would  you girls charge...."

"$5.00 an hour," said Tamika quickly only to be 
reprimanded by her mother.

"Well, " laughed Sophia, "This is New York...an expensive 
town...You've got a deal young ladies.  And please don't be 
angry, Ronetta.  Trustworthy sitters are hard to find and 
worth every penny that you pay them!"

Both led them to the back door of a shop and knocked 
softly three times and then twice loudly.

The door was opened by a dark eyed child who quickly 
disappeared and they went up a set of narrow dark stairs 
quickly.

"Um...what are we doing, Both?" asked Mulder quietly.

"Finding a cure for you."

They were shown into a clean apartment.  An elderly black 
woman stepped out from behind a curtain and gazed at 
them.  She stared for a long time.

"You," she said to Mulder, "You had no fear of the 
Teliko....no that is not true.  You had fear, but you ignored 
it."

Then she turned to Dana...."Descendent of the flame haired 
warrior women...it is you who rid the world of its 
evil....You have the gift of prophecy , but you hide it even 
from yourself.  No matter.  I have the herbs.....I have the 
cure, but we must try it on someone first.  This time it will 
be the white man."

She produced a vial and some disposable needles.  "If it 
works, money will be required to see that all the victims get 
the antidote...."

Mulder's head was throbbing so badly suddenly that he had 
to grab ahold of the furniture to keep upright.

"Now wait just a moment," said Dana, "you can't just inject 
my husband with...."

"If I do not, he is a dead man.  If I do, perhaps he will 
live...."

"Sister Nia is an expert herbalist, Dana....." said Both 
quietly.

"I'm sorry but without complete analysis..." began Scully 
taking her husband's arm.....

Sophia had remained silent studying the situation.

"Catherine," she said softly, suddenly. 

The woman turned toward her.

"I am Sister Nia," she said.

"But you are also Catherine....remember the little girl in 
Tanzania Nassifa.... after the circumcision...how she very 
nearly died of the infection.....such a beautiful child....."

"But she did not die, did she Sophia...." Suddenly the 
elderly woman smiled. "You and I, we would save the 
world back then....a black woman and a white woman in a 
world the white man thought was his, still thinks is his."

"I'd like to think we've slowed the bad guys down at least a 
little....." and then there arms were around each other.

"I thought you had died in Kenya, Catherine," said Sophia 
finally.

"This is what I preferred the world to think."

Suddenly the pain  in his head had grown unbearable.  Fox 
let out an audible moan and collapsed on to the sofa.  The 
woman known as Sister Catherine grabbed a bowl and 
quickly discarded the artificial flowers in it while Mulder 
lost whatever he had eaten.

"I fear there is not much time," said the woman.  "And it 
would be best if he did not die here.  If he does, all the 
work I do in the neighborhood will come to nothing."

"Give him the shot," said Sophia quickly.  She didn't say it 
quickly enough, however.  Her nephew let out an agonized 
scream and fell to the floor.  As Dana was moving toward 
him, he pulled his gun and put it next to his head.

"Fox, no......" cried Dana desperately.

"The pain.....can't stand the pain...."  He might have pulled 
the trigger in that instant but his hand was shaking and he 
couldn't quite squeeze it.  It gave Both the time he needed 
to take a flying leap.  The gun fired once, the bullet hitting 
the ceiling behind them as Mulder was tackled to the floor.

"Give him the shot," snapped Sophia.  "Dana...the 
alcohol...."

"But...." Dana started to protest but she was already moving 
toward her husband.  He was struggling, beating his head, 
and Both couldn't hold him much longer.  

"Catherine is a British educated physician.  We studied 
together.  She is quite brilliant in spite of being as insane as 
I am, Dana.  Trust me on this."  It was the best consolation 
she had to offer Dana just now.

"Keep holding him down, Dew," said the woman.  She 
filled the syringe and squirted out a small amount and then 
finding a blood vessel injected it right into his blood 
stream.

The pain actually got worse.  He heard himself screaming 
and couldn't stop.  Someone handed him a towel and told 
him to bite down on it.  The voice was familiar, but he 
wasn't sure who it was.  He listened only because it was 
easier than trying to fight.  He felt the whole thing, the 
entire seizure.  It was horrible.  His body shook 
uncontrollably as a knife stabbed through his head, and 
then suddenly his body relaxed and for the first time in a 
long time, he was totally free from pain.  He eyes closed 
and he fell into a deep deep sleep.

The woman she knew as Sister Nia and as Catherine took 
out a blood pressure cup and a stethoscope even as Dana 
watched.

"Heart rate, normal," she announced.  Then she took his 
blood pressure.  "120 over 80....It does not get much better 
than that."

"After that seizure he should be in the hospital..." said 
Dana....

"No hospital.  You will speak of this to no one.  I think it 
would be best if he was left here to sleep...."

"Dana," said Sophia quietly, "Catherine is right....I'll stay 
with Mulder.  You have Both take you and the kids to the 
hotel and I'll call you later.  Catherine and I have a lot to 
catch up on...and don't forget to pay the girls...."

Dana looked at her husband.  With a hand that shook she 
brushed his hair away from his face gently.  "Please be 
okay, Fox," she whispered softly and with a nod to her aunt, 
she left the apartment feeling helpless.

As Both was escorting her out the door reluctantly, she 
heard Sophia turn around say to the friend of her youth.

"Why you old bullshit artist you....I bet its you that runs that 
voo doo shop downstairs.....You haven't changed a bit in 40 
years.....and don't try to tell me those are real plaster saints 
I saw in the window....."

"I'm Sister Nia now.....and there is no bullshit about 
Shango....."

"Yeah....right....just like there is no bull shit in the fortunes 
I tell in the tea shop my niece's sister runs in Washington.  
Come on girl....fix us some tea and we'll catch up on old 
times."


24 Hours Later


The drive back to Washington with the kids took somewhat 
longer than they had expected mainly because they had to 
rent a car.  Mulder's had been stolen.  He started out the trip 
singing "I love New York."  Truth was, he had hated that 
damned van anyway although he supposed now he'd have 
to buy a new one.  He felt good.  He still didn't remember a 
damned thing, but he felt good.....great in fact.

"No cookies yet, Patrick," admonished Sophia.  "They will 
be gone by the time we reach the Verrazano Bridge."

"By the way, does anyone have cash for the toll?" inquired 
Dana.

"Aw jeez...I knew I should have flown back with Both," 
moaned Mulder.  "Well, at least I don't have a headache.  
Whatever is in that shit the good sister gave me......"

"Sit...Sit...Sit...." repeated Brenda.  Scully rolled her eyes.

Finally they hit the New Jersey Turnpike and when the 
smell around the Elizabeth area where the oil refineries 
were running in full swing didn't make his head throb and 
his stomach turn, he figured he would be okay.  He was 
already regretting the fact that he had missed most of 
Ronetta's cooking but the woman had been most 
understanding.  He was a little disappointed that he didn't 
remember anything, but he could survive that....Hell...he 
already had.

"Okay, Sophia, what's the scoop on the witch doctor?" 
inquired Dana finally.

"Witch doctor?" she asked innocently.  "Oh, you mean 
Sister Nia....we studied medicine together.  Ran off to 
Africa just as soon as we got our MD's....first West Africa, 
then Tanzania....then Kenya although of course it wasn't 
called that then.  We were going to save the world.  We 
might have done it too except that we got caught up in the 
Mau Mau uprising.  She decided to disappear with the 
remnants of the movement.  I, of course, could not do that 
although those poor people needed medical care 
desperately.  I mean I would have stuck out a wee bit don't 
you think, and they would not have allowed a white woman 
to move with them anyway."

"But the Mau Mau's..." began Dana.

"Things are not always what they seem, Dana," said Sophia 
quietly, "As you well know.  The people there were 
oppressed.  Their culture, however primitive it might 
appear to us, had been torn away from them and had been 
replaced with oppression and people looking down at them 
as though they were something less than human. I'm not 
defending them, but the number of atrocities committed 
against the whites at that time was actually quite small.  I 
might add that a lot of the people in the movement were 
ignorant superstitious people who were used by others 
seeking their own gains.  People are people all over the 
world after all.  Catherine went with them because medical 
care was desperately needed in the back country and word 
came back that she had been killed in a skirmish with the 
British.  I had already left the country one step ahead of the 
colonial police."

"But she didn't die," said Fox softly intrigued with the story.

"No...she didn't..." said Sophia.  "She spent time in Africa 
and the Caribbean studying herbs and traditional medicine 
and even learning about the religions.  There aren't a hell of 
a lot of doctors in the projects, Dana," said Sophia, but 
under the cover of her shop, she can dispense herbal 
medicines to the poor and the ignorant and the 
superstitious, the people no one care about.  When 
necessary, she can see that they get traditional medicine.  I 
for one am not going to stand in judgment of her because 
she doesn't have a license.  Catherine would never hurt a 
soul.  All she wanted to do was practice medicine.  Only 
God knows how many lives she has saved.  This is why it is 
so important that her work be allowed to continue.   You 
think you have had it rough trying to make it in a man's 
world sometimes, but you have no idea what it was like 
back then for women....for black women especially.  Sister 
Nia the Voo Doo Queen as you called her is a walking 
talking miracle even if it isn't the sort you would approve 
of."

Dana only nodded.  There wasn't much she could say.  Aunt 
Sophia was right.  She had been quick to be distrustful, not 
surprising under the circumstances, but she had also been 
quick to be judgmental and found herself contemplating on 
the ride home the difference between the rosary she still 
said on those rare occasions when she attended church and 
the offerings other made to the spirits hidden behind the 
guise of the plaster saints that Sister Nia sold in her shop.  
The woman had saved Mulder's life with her non 
traditional ways and that was more important than anything 
to Dana.

End Chapter 15


"Amnesia" Chapter 16


Dana Scully put her hands on her hips and glared at her 
husband.  He knew that she was about to issue an 
ultimatum.

"My mother and Walter and Little Fox are coming over for 
dinner and that is all there is to it."

"So who died and left you boss, Scully?" he demanded.  He 
was still feeling good.  Whatever the hell had been in Sister 
Catherine's shot, it had killed the headaches entirely and 
done a hell of a lot for his love life which hadn't been 
exactly to begin with.  He had been back at work full time 
for a month now and had solved two more cases, real 
X-Files, not just criminal stuff.  Best yet, Dana had been 
with him on the cases and it had been like old times.  Both 
was cool, but there was no one like his Dana to work cases 
with, especially in the hotel room at night.  Of course, 
Skinner had given him a hard time about the one, hadn't 
even wanted to authorize it, however, instead of admitting 
that he had been wrong when Mulder had proved his 
theory, all Skinner had done was to harass him about the 
paper work.  God, he hated bureaucrats.  It was difficult, no 
impossible, for him to swallow the fact that he and Skinner 
had been good friends.

"No one died, thank God....Even you lived, Mulder....lived 
to have dinner with Walter and my mother and the baby 
tonight.  We had to miss his birthday party because you are 
so damned stubborn and wouldn't go.  Tonight you are 
going to be civilized or I'll....."  She had been really furious 
when her husband had refused to go to Walter's party, but 
she had cut him some slack on it because they had just 
returned from a case and he was miffed because the AD 
had been on his case about the paper work.  She had run 
out of patience with him however.  He hadn't stopped to 
think that perhaps he had hurt her mother's feelings.

"You'll what?" he inquired.  Suddenly his eyes lit.  "I 
know....you'll tell me no sex for two weeks....right 
Scully....."

"Don't tempt me," she snapped.

He eased a little closer to her and his arms snaked around 
her.  Slowly they slipped a little lower than they needed to.  
She had, he thought, a beautiful butt.  He heard her sigh as 
she leaned a little closer to him, but then suddenly Patrick 
and Brenda were there expecting to be in on the hugs.  Cute 
as the kids were, that was one aspect to his sudden 
fatherhood that he could have done without...them =

interrupting his access to his wife.

"Okay, okay," he muttered giving in as the three of them 
hugged him, "I'll try to be good....but if he aggravates 
me...that's it.  Say, isn't it time for these two to take a nap?"  
He was enjoying the hugs and the love that flowed from the 
three of them, but he also had other things on his mind.

"Good idea..." she grinned.  "But don't get your hopes up or 
your....you know what...for that matter.  Well..too late there 
but... Patrick hasn't been cooperating too well lately."

"I noticed...."

An hour later, Dana was up feeling very mellow indeed 
working on the birthday cake.  Mulder was upstairs with 
the two babies in bed.  They had cooperated and stayed 
quiet in their cribs just long enough for a quick tumble, but 
that was okay.  Mulder was so ready it would have been a 
quick tumble even if they had slept all afternoon.  It hadn't 
taken her long to get into the spirit either.  She grinned 
wickedly as she turned on the mixer.  She had always been 
such a goody two shoes.  There was something so 
delightfully evil about being on top of her handsome 
husband nearly fully dressed because they couldn't wait 
doing what came naturally.  He had  sworn it was her 
screaming that woke up the kids, but she had told him it 
was all his fault because he hadn't been exactly quiet 
himself.  She realized she was on the verge of overmixing 
her cake batter and decided she had better concentrate on 
the batter in bowl. 

That night, the dinner went reasonably well.  They mainly 
stuck to family gossip throughout the meal and of course 
with three kids running around it wasn't easy to talk about 
adult things anyway.  Given the size of the family, there 
was always a lot of gossip, too much, thought Fox 
attempting not to look too bored because he had promised 
to be good and he had already been given his reward that 
afternoon.  Quite a reward it had been too.  His prim and 
proper partner was not quite so prim and proper in the 
throes of passion.  

Dana found herself rather dumbstruck when Walter told 
her that his sister was pregnant again.  She remembered the 
three kids from her first rather odd wedding ceremony.  She 
pushed aside a pang of grief for Gran.

"A little surprise," said Walter.  "She's feeling a bit frantic I 
think.  I mean it was rough being a minister with three 
children and now to start all over again with a new baby...."

"Happens," muttered Mulder.  Everyone looked at him.  
"Well, hell, I've got a set of twins and I have no idea where 
they came from...."  He managed a grin.  He wasn't entirely 
sure he cared about Walter's sister, or Melissa and Colton, 
or the fact that Dani had to wear glasses now.  No, he was 
absolutely sure he didn't care. He wanted to watch the game 
on TV.  There were still times when he felt like he was in 
an alternate universe, but his love for Dana kept him sane, 
and now that he was no longer in pain and filled with 
resentment, she was more relaxed and made an effort to 
give him additional space when he needed it.  He wondered 
if that would include enough space to be rude and go watch 
the game.  Somehow he didn't think so.

"Why don't you guys take this to the family room while 
Dana and I do the dishes," said Margaret looking at her 
watch.  She sensed that Fox was getting restless and she 
knew Walter wanted to see the game. "Then we'll bring out 
the drop clothes and have some of my daughter's famous 
chocolate cherry cake."  It was her hope that if the two men 
were left alone they might come to some sort of a truce.  

"I think if we wait a little while Aunt Sophia will be home," 
said Dana.  "Meantime I'll get the coffee started."

The two men took the kids to the improvised family room 
and  Mulder switched on the big screen TV he had insisted 
they needed when they had returned from New York.  
What was the point of being rich if you couldn't have a big 
screen TV.  He had ignored Dana's protests entirely.  There 
was a Knicks game in progress.  He had been really pissed 
at the idea of company during the Knicks game, but, he 
realized, he hadn't missed much.  He offered a silent thanks 
to Margaret.  His mother-in-law could be a real angel of 
mercy.

Walter Skinner sat on the sofa on the far side from Fox.

"We found your blood samples, the ones that were stolen 
from the lab," he said to Mulder quietly during a break in 
the play.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked.

"Oddly, they didn't show the same results that the blood 
samples Both had analyzed did."

"Oddly?"

"I was being facetious, Mulder.  They were very clever.  
The samples were supposedly =D4lost' and then clean ones 
substituted.  So much more plausible than to have them 
actually stolen."

"Bastards," he muttered.  He had expected no less.  In fact, 
he wasn't entirely certain Skinner hadn't been in on it.  The 
pause in the game was over and play started again.  The 
men watched silently.  Skinner was very much aware of 
what went through Fox's mind and it disturbed him.  He 
didn't feel that he had ever done anything to deserve it.  He 
recognized that Mulder was making an effort to be polite 
and knew that Scully must have issued an ultimatum.  Be 
nice or else....Scully had put up with a lot from him during 
this latest nightmare.  He had been so tempted to punch his 
son-in-law's lights out.  Somehow though, Scully had 
managed to strike the proper balance with him, and Walter 
supposed he should be glad that at least the marriage had 
been saved.

The kids were climbing all over him, and giving up, 
Mulder took himself to the floor.  He stretched out his long 
slender body in front of the TV.  Brenda and Patrick soon 
seemed to get tired of bouncing on him and found some 
toys, but suddenly Skinner's  son lay down on top of him 
and rested his head against Fox's shoulder.  It took Mulder 
by surprise, and he was tempted to dump the little boy on 
the floor or tell Skinner to come and get him, but a tiny 
thumb went into a small mouth and the boy started making 
sucking noises.  He smelled sweet, of baby sweat and 
talcum powder, little boy sweet.  Fox knew the child would 
soon be asleep and brought his hand around the boys back 
and rubbed it lightly making certain he didn't slip off his 
chest.  As he stared at the TV, he heard music, strange 
exotic music, and felt his arms around Dana as they sat in 
the grass listening.  He tasted beer and heard himself 
whispering in her ear..... "Marry me, Scully, and I'll show 
you how afraid I am of bodily fluids...."  She had told him 
that story....but no.....  He saw himself suddenly in a 
bathtub, a red-haired woman gently washing his chest as he 
inhaled the scent of lemon.  "Have you ever made love to  a 
virgin?"  He hadn't, and then he had, beautifully.  He was in 
a bed, a very old bed....He could feel the shudder as he 
filled the woman beneath him with himself and knew that 
he had made a baby with her.....The sound of girlish 
laughter brushed across his mind.  Pictures popped into his 
head, beautiful pictures, ugly pictures...his wife lying on 
the floor in a pool of blood...the surge of agony at a baby 
lost....Making love on a table that collapsed...laughing as a 
bird shrieked "Help Mulder, Help Murder."

He could feel the small child he held breathing against his 
chest and he  inhaled sharply.  He was suddenly in the 
hospital.....and Skinner was there....and there was a baby 
being born...Patrick...Brenda....No....this little 
boy...JF...Junior Fox....Margaret was having surgery.....and 
then suddenly, there he was, so tiny, all bald and wrinkled 
and beautiful, laying across Margaret's chest.  In his mind, 
Fox watched the new family bond....a little miracle baby 
born to a mother too old, and he had been there for the 
whole thing.  They had placed the little boy in his arms..... 
JF....Junior Fox....

Patrick wondered over to him....not Patrick...Wally 
Wolf....God, what a stupid name...Wally Wolf...but....There 
was Dana screaming....She was lying on the bed.  A nurse 
had one infant in her arms, a beautiful red headed girl and 
his heart was filled with joy...and then there was his wife 
screaming....there was Walter catching him as he was about 
to fall...setting him in a chair as there were discussions 
about surgery....and then suddenly there was 
Patrick....bloody, wrinkled....a little blue....his bonus 
baby......his son.....he beautiful boy, his little Wally Wolf.

Walter looked away from the game.  It was too quiet.  
Mulder lay on the floor with JF asleep on his chest.  Patrick 
sat beside him and Brenda had wondered over and set 
herself near her brother and rested her head on Fox's hip.  
Tears were streaming down Mulder's face.  Skinner wasn't 
quite certain what to do.  He seemed okay, but he was 
crying silently.  Finally Walter decided he should go get 
Dana in the kitchen. 

As he got to his feet, Mulder said quietly, "I'm sorry, 
Walter.....I know I've been a bastard these weeks....I just 
didn't....I just didn't remember...until now......"

Skinner bent down on the floor beside him.

"It's okay, son," he said quietly.  "It's not your fault."  
Gently he lifted the baby away from his son-in-law and 
placed him on the couch covering him with the afghan.

Fox sat up almost in a daze.

"I think....I think I'm going to be very angry later, dad.   I 
can forgive almost anything.....but they tried to steal.....they 
tried to take....this from me," he softly gesturing to the 
house and the children.  " I thought no one could ever take 
my memories. I'm not sure I can forgive that....ever....."

"They failed....They failed again, son, and one of these days 
we are going to bring the bastards to justice."  Skinner 
smiled.  It was time to give Mulder a little space to pull 
himself together.  "I'm going to go see what is keeping that 
chocolate cake."

"Yeah....good idea..." he said wiping his eyes quickly.  As 
Walter started to leave the room Fox interrupted.

"Walter...."

"Yeah...."

"Um....happy birthday...."

Walter never got a chance to say thanks. Sophia burst in the 
door with all the dogs just as Dana and Margaret appeared 
singing Happy Birthday.  All three kids started to cry.  


The End

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