Imbroglio Part Three

by Jessica Zyvarek Taylor

For a moment, she kissed him back, answering his passion with her own.  But then, she pulled away, horrified not only at what she knew was his intention, but also at her reaction.  She'd been single, rarely so much as out on a date, for years.  And now, two men, two polar opposites, were coming after her and pulling her in different directions.

Mulder knew what he was doing.  She knew he did.  And his face was hardly innocent when she pushed him away.  He let her resist for a moment, but continued to kiss her.  His face was buried in her neck when she finally spoke, having failed to send the message by merely pushing him away.  "Mulder, stop."

Knowing him and trusting him as well as she did, she expected him to do as she said, perhaps with a disappointed face.  But he didn't.  His kisses kept coming, on her neck, her face, almost on her lips.  She pulled away when he tried to kiss her lips again and he looked at her as if he'd just noticed her resistance.

"What?"  His hands continued their trip up and down her back, pressing her tightly against him.  He knew what he was doing and she had a hard time to deny him.

"I said stop."  She was too close to his face to not look him in the eye, but she wished she hadn't.  His eyes were dark, seductive, dangerous.

"Why?"  One of his hands left her back and smoothed her hair back from her face, then sliding back along her neck and down her side to its previous location on her waist.

She placed both hands against his chest and pushed slightly, but stopped when she felt no give in his embrace.  "Because I can't do this."

He stared her down, unrelenting, unwilling to let her go until her answer satisfied him.  "Why not?"

"I just can't.  Not now.  Not…"  She couldn't tell him because she really didn't know.  She just knew it didn't feel right anymore.

"Not with me."  His own answer was enough for him and he released her, quickly crossing the wrecked room and sitting in the one chair that wasn't overturned.

She stood her ground, barely inside the door, with her arms crossed over her chest.  "I didn't say that."  She felt terribly out of place there and he wasn't doing anything to ease her discomfort.

In fact, he seemed to be delighting in it.  "But that's what you meant."  He stood again, too agitated to sit still, and began the process of sorting through his living room.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Mulder."  She turned to him for support, out of fear, because she didn't have anyone else to turn to.  Or any of a host of other reasons.  And not a single one of them would be a sufficient reason for him, not even if she found the courage to voice any of them.

With great flourish rather indicative of his annoyance with her, he dropped what he was holding and threw his arms out to the side.  "Well, by all means, please set the record straight, Scully.  What exactly did you mean then?"  He gave her a second, which in turn was only enough time for her to break eye contact.  He was making her feel guilty and she couldn't defend herself against him.  "Well?  What was it that you meant to say?"  He walked back across the and stood before her, his rage almost palpable.  "Maybe you meant to say that I'm not Krycek?  Maybe that's the problem.  I'm not a murderer, huh?"  She winced, but didn't step back.  She wouldn't let him know how much his anger bothered her.  "I haven't murdered anyone in cold blood, maybe I'm not dangerous enough for you.  Maybe you'd get bored if you didn't have to constantly fear for your life."

She knew she should let him vent his anger, not get into an argument with him, but his words hurt her and she couldn't stand there and not defend herself.  "Maybe I'm not about to get involved with a man who flies off into a violent rage because I said no.  Maybe this has nothing to do with Krycek."

He considered her words for a moment, nodding and appearing to give some credit to them.  "First of all, I'm angry, but I'd hardly call it a violent rage.  And secondly, maybe you're right, maybe this has nothing to do with him.  Maybe.  But I doubt it."

OK, fine, so he had a point.  "Maybe you're right, then.  Maybe this has everything to do with him.  But it's not what you're thinking of."

He looked at her petulantly.  "No?  You're going to tell me you're not sleeping with him?"

She knew he would know the truth no matter what she did, unless she flat out lied right to his face and she couldn't do that.  "Whether or not I'm sleeping with him"  His question answered, he stalked across the room and began throwing things out.  His mood had just taken a fateful turn to the violent side.  "is not the point here.  That's what I'm trying to tell you."

He looked up, glaring at her, before practically growling his answer at her.  "Oh, yeah?  Well, please, do tell me what the point is, because I've obviously missed it."  His condescending tone was almost enough to make her slam the door and walk away.  But she had a feeling that was what he was waiting for, and for that reason, she stood there determined to battle it out.

"Face it, Mulder, the only reason you came on to me is because you think I'm sleeping with him.  You're jealous and you can't bring yourself to admit it, so you run around and call him names and act like an ass to me rather than just being a man and telling me that you're jealous."  There was more truth to her words than she had initially thought, and she could tell he knew it because of the way he froze.

After a moment, he sank onto the cushionless couch, and dropped his face into his hands.  She didn't know how to react.  She thought he was crying, or that he was about to start.  She was about to step forward, to apologize, because the guilt came crushing down the moment she thought she'd hurt him.  But when he looked at her, his eyes were dry and unforgiving.

"If you honestly believe that, you might as well just leave now, because this conversation is over."  He returned to the task of cleaning up, but he moved slowly this time, much more controlled, and seemingly much more reasonable.

"So if I say I don't believe that, then the conversation isn't over?"  She wasn't sure what she believed anymore.

"Scully, the only thing I'm jealous of is that the man who has done such horrible things to both of us has earned your trust because someone tried to kill him while I have worked five years to get you to trust me."  His voice was softer and she knew he was hurt, whether he denied it or not.

"I think you're confused here, Mulder."  He looked at her then, blatantly not convinced.  "I've always trusted you.  I trusted you from the moment I walked into your office.  I'm the one who has been jumping through hoops to earn the right to be your friend and now, just because you and I disagree and for once I'm refusing to back down, now you think you've got me.  Like by proving that I'm being disloyal you're going to win some kind of prize."  He met her eyes, not swayed by her words.  He was either ignoring her or he really hadn't been paying attention for five years.  "I haven't done anything wrong, Mulder, but if you're hell-bent on trying to prove that I've betrayed you, you're not going to win anything.  You're just going to lose the best friend you've ever had."

She unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips, hoping that he'd think about it and see that she was right.  But she underestimated how much he didn't want to lose the argument and overestimated how much she meant to him.

"Maybe I think I've already lost her."  The trash bag he'd been filling finally reached its full capacity and, not wanting to walk past her to get another one, he sat back on the couch and closed his eyes.

She watched him, completely unsure of how to respond.  Part of her wanted to say something to assuage the hurt she knew he was feeling, but the rest of her wanted to throttle him for hurting her and being too stubborn to see that he had.

"I've got news for you, Mulder."  He opened his eyes and stared back at her, acting like he was surprised she hadn't already left.  "You haven't lost me yet, but you're damn close.  And pretty soon, it really will be too late."

She turned and walked out the door, knowing he wasn't coming after her, positive that the thought hadn't even crossed his mind.  She got in her car and drove home, home to the disarray and the destruction, and tried to block the images of the last few hours from her mind as she cleaned up.  She was mad at Mulder for the way he was acting, mad at Krycek for dragging her into something without telling her all, or any, of the facts, but mostly mad at herself for walking into both of their psychological traps.  She was intelligent, and still, she fell head first into patterns that she knew were endless sources of trouble.  She was too old to be acting out, but the people in her life always made her feel like she was, or that she should.  Maybe it was time for a change.

She spent almost two hours cleaning her apartment.  Unlike Krycek's place, most of her things were still intact, just overturned or on the floor.  She threw out what was ruined and salvaged the rest, using the physical work to distract her from the trauma of what was going on.  Her mind kept returning to her earlier realization that it was time for a change.  But she didn't know what kind of change, whether it was a drastic life altering kind of change or more of a subtle one.

She would have to do something with her job.  Whatever change she decided on, it was going to involve work.  She didn't exactly relish the idea of quitting the FBI, or transferring even.  Maybe she should just threaten to leave.  Or maybe take a long vacation.  A leave of absence for a few months might be exactly what she was looking for.

Flopping down on her couch, she put her feet up on the coffee table and imagined what it would be like to take a nice long trip to Cancun.  She smiled at the thought of being stretched out on a warm sunny beach, hearing the waves and the seagulls, having nothing to think about other than what to pick for dinner.  Her grin widened as her eyes closed, fully immersing herself in her fantasy.  She could see the picturesque beach around her and her imaginary self stretched out on her towel, turning to glance at the man beside her.  Krycek smiled at her and bent forward to kiss her.

Her real self jumped off the couch, jarred out of her dream by her conscious mind.  What was she thinking?  The idea of the vacation was meant to get her away from everything.  Including the two men driving her crazy.  Apparently her subconscious had already made its decision.  But maybe not, since she couldn't really see Mulder laying on a beach, not even her imagination could.  She shook her head violently, hoping to shake the images out of her head.  Krycek probably wouldn't live through the attack.  He hadn't looked good and he'd just been injured a few days before.

A knock at the door startled her.  She pulled her gun, preparing to fire, not about to take any chances.  She was half afraid that whoever it was would kick in the door, she approached slowly, holding her gun in front of her.  "Who is it?"  She couldn't step close enough to check the peep hole.  She didn't feel safe.

"It's Mrs. Sylenski, dear."  Scully reholstered her gun and rolled her eyes.  So, now she was a dear.  The last thing she felt like she could stomach was chatting with a little old lady.  Even still, she reached for the knob.

Smiling and ushering the woman in, she checked the hallway, acting the part as the vigilant paranoid FBI agent she was.  Satisfied, she closed the door, fastening all three locks before joining the woman on the couch.  "Is there something I can do for you?"

The woman took her time adjusting herself, gazing disapprovingly around the still messy apartment.  "Now, dear, that boy that was here."  Scully nodded, the term 'boy' making her feel guilty. "He came by to see me this morning."  Scully wanted to get upset and demand to know why this hadn't been mentioned earlier, but having been through this situation before with the same woman, she knew getting upset would only serve to shut Mrs. Sylenski up.  Mrs. Sylenski was the only one who was allowed to get upset.  Instead of jumping down her throat, Scully just smiled and indicated that she was interested in listening.  "It was early this morning, still dark out."  Mrs. Sylenski frowned and nodded emphatically. Scully frowned herself.  Had Krycek woke up, got dressed, went to have a chat with the neighbors, come back, got undressed and got back in bed with her before she woke up?  Apparently so.

"Mrs. Sylenski, I don't mean to interrupt, but this is terribly important.  Could it have been last evening?"

If the woman insisted that it was this morning, Scully couldn't be sure it was real. She wasn't likely to sleep through someone getting out of bed and then getting back in.  It didn't seem right.

The woman's head bobbed back and forth for a while.  "Yes, I suppose it could have been last evening.  I don't get out much, time runs together a lot.  He's a perfectly delightful young man, dear.  Perfectly polite, respectful."  Scully forcible swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape.  But the woman was right.  Krycek was a perfectly polite hitman.  "He told me that I should take care of the cat, if something was to happen."  Scully stood up and walked out of the room, mentioning that she was going to make tea, but really just needed to leave the room so that she could bang her fists into something.  The woman just wanted to take the damn cat.  If Krycek died, she could have it.  But if he lived, she wasn't about to explain that she'd given his cat away.

She walked back into the room, offering Mrs. Sylenski a cup of tea.  "Is there anything else, ma'am?"

Mrs. Sylenski held up her hands, as if to ward off the proffered tea.  "Can't drink this late at night, honey.  I've got that trouble."  Scully set the extra cup down on the coffee table.  She really wasn't in the mood to listen to her neighbors bladder woes.  "I just wanted to check up on the kitty, the dear boy was so worried about it.  Where is he anyway?"

Scully choked on her tea at the 'dear boy' comment.  "Who?  Alex or the cat?"

"Either one.  Wouldn't mind seeing either one."

"The cat's around here somewhere.  Alex is in the hospital.  He was beaten pretty badly."

The woman put her hand to her mouth, shocked at the news.  "Oh, dear."  Scully nodded, her own feelings rising up at the thought of him laying in the hospital in such bad shape.  Mrs. Sylenski patted Scully's leg.  "He was worried about the cat."

He must have known it was coming.  Scully couldn't imagine someone taking the time to procure care for his cat and not bothering to try to protect himself.  Why hadn't he mentioned anything to her?  She could have put him somewhere.  Feeling guilty for not thinking about it earlier, she politely got Mrs. Sylenski to leave.  Someone had tried to kill him, and the people he screwed around with weren't likely to leave loose ends around.

Suddenly frightened, she called the hospital, insisting that security be stationed outside his door.  She was slipping, she knew it, or else she would have had him under protective custody since she'd found him.  A sobering thought occurred to her then.  She wasn't slipping.  Her personal feelings were interfering.  She wasn't thinking about him as a suspect who was possibly about to receive retaliatory attacks because of his previous escape.  Damn him for being so convincing that she forgot he wasn't a regular guy.  Damn her for falling for it.  She snatched up her cell phone and headed for her car, dialing Skinner's number on the way.  Somehow, he just knew it was her and answered on the first ring.

"Agent Scully, this had better be good.  I'm busy repairing my apartment from the unanticipated damage it received this afternoon."

"Sir, I am sorry.  I had no idea this was going to happen.  I should have, but I didn't.  I need your help."

She thought she heard a growl, but she attributed it to feedback from the power lines.  "Exactly what sort of help do you require?"

She took a deep breath, knowing better than to ask for help with him in a bad mood but not having any other options.  "Until this matter is resolved, I think Krycek should be placed under protective custody."

More feedback.  "I'm not feeling particularly sympathetic towards him right now.  There's a little too much broken glass around here."  Scully could swear she heard a laugh in the background.

"With all due respect, Sir,"  Perfectly delivered in a tone that revealed she didn't mean a word of it.  "Krycek didn't trash all of our apartments and his own.  He wasn't in any shape to do so.  He was still recovering from a gunshot wound."

"His own apartment, Agent Scully?"

Taking advantage of the red light, she leaned forward and smacked her forehead into the steering wheel.  She had to change the subject.  "Sir, he's in the ICU.  He sure as hell didn't beat the shit out of himself."

She heard a sigh.  He was going to give, she knew it.  He always let her have her way when she dropped the respectful attitude and basically challenged him.  He was such a sucker.

"Agent Mulder and I will meet you at the hospital."  He disconnected the phone before she had the chance to fully grasp his statement.

She arrived at the hospital a few minutes later, having to show her badge to the guards before gaining entrance to Krycek's room.  She didn't see much difference in his condition, the monitors beeped in their condescending manner, reminding her with each shrill whistle that she could have prevented this.  She had a few minutes before the lynch mob would arrive and she wanted to spend it with Krycek.  She took his hand again, gently tracing her fingers over his palm.  She jumped visibly when his hand twitched.

She examined his face, checked the monitors, and squeezed his hand.  He squeezed back.  The biggest smile she could recall ever having erupted across her face.  He tried to keep his eyes open, but each time they opened, it was a matter of seconds before they slid shut again.  She traced his cheek bone and spoke softly.

"Don't try to wake up.  You need the rest.  I'll be here."

He ignored her, forcing a whisper out causing him obvious pain.  She couldn't understand what he was saying, but judging from the bruising on his face, he probably had several compounded head injuries.  When he was done talking, he looked up at her, trying to see if she understood.  She didn't.  He looked so upset at her lack of understanding that she leaned forward and tried to listen again.  This time, he only offered one word.  "Pen."

She looked confused, and watched him, hoping understanding would suddenly dawn on her.  He motioned with his hand and she understood, producing a pen and paper from the desk.  She held the paper while he wrote.  She looked. 'Take care of her.'  What the hell was he talking about?

"I don't understand, Alex."

He forced out one more word before he passed out again, and it didn't clarify a thing.  "Callie."

She shoved the paper in her pocket and stepped out into the hall to wait for Mulder and Skinner.  She leaned against the wall, and after a minute, extracted the paper from her pocket.  He was obsessed with the damn cat.  He must be sicker than she thought.  But Mrs. Sylenski's words came back to her.  He wasn't obsessed with it, he was trying to give her a message.  And she had to figure it out before the other side did.  She broke into a run as she headed for the car.  She was already behind, she couldn't lose another minute.

"Callie!"  She was already calling for the cat before she got the door open.  The cat was already ignoring her.  "Callie!"  She headed for the kitchen, grabbing the box of dry cat food and shaking it as she called. Callie hadn't eaten since that morning and she was kind of hoping that Callie would just reappear.  No such luck.  The poor thing had probably had the scare of her life when the apartment had been destroyed and her owner had been beaten.  Scully had never owned a cat, but she was sure it wasn't something that a cat would take well.  It wasn't something she was taking particularly well either.

The cat food wasn't working, so she put it down and started trying under things.  The bed first, the dining room table, the couch, nothing.  No Callie.  She was starting to get paranoid.  Even more paranoid than she had been.  She tried all the closets, checking up on the shelves, using a flashlight to check in the corners.  She even went back and tried the kitchen cabinets.  Callie was nowhere to be found.

The phone rang and she thought about letting the machine get it.  But she knew it was probably Mulder and he was looking for her.  She answered it, and received a hastily mentioned 'sorry wrong number.'  She'd already hung it back up by the time she muttered back that it was all right.  She should call Mulder.  She knew he'd worry, but she just couldn't bring herself to speak to him.  She was  still waiting for an apology that wasn't coming.  Scully sat down on the couch and dropped her face into her hands, moaning to herself about having managed to lose the cat and never understanding why she was supposed to find the cat anyway.  She felt something touch her back and she looked up.

"Mmmmrrow."  Callie rubbed against her side, purring as Scully lifted the cat into her lap.

She sat there petting Callie, thinking to herself.  Cats were smarter than dogs.  Dogs always came running when they were called.  Cats showed up when they were damn well good and ready.

"OK, Callie, I need you to help me out here."  The cat curled up in a contented purring ball on her lap.  "What am I looking for?"  Callie sniffed Scully's shirt as if it was the most fascinating thing on earth.  To Callie, at that moment, it probably was.  She wasn't sure why she was waiting, it wasn't like Callie was about to answer it, but she eventually decided that it was just out of exhaustion.  She looked over at her phone.  Mulder and Skinner hadn't called and it seemed odd.  She'd turned off her cell phone, but Mulder knew her home number and he'd probably been at the hospital looking for her for at least twenty minutes.

Intrigued, she checked the ringer.  It was turned on.  Her heart started to pound and she could imagine hearing the horror movie music pounding away in the background.  She remembered the wrong number.  Had the voice seemed familiar?  Maybe particularly frightening or foreboding?  Not that she could remember, but who assumes the hit men are on the phone?  She'd known it the night they came for Missy, though.  She'd known it and she'd left and her sister took the bullet meant for her.  She lifted the receiver to her ear, her own acute sense of doom telling her what she'd find before she even checked for the dial tone.  Dead silence greeted her.  She grabbed her cell phone, her gun, and her cat, heading for the door, dialing Mulder's number as she went.  But before she left, she thought about it. If someone was waiting for her, they'd probably shoot her and then ask questions and if they didn't notice the cat, she probably would let go of it when someone shot her.  She threw the deadbolt back on the door.  Maybe she should try hiding in the closet.  It had always worked when she was little and the hit men coming to look for her would probably overestimate her intelligence and not try the closet.

Mulder's line was busy the first six times she tried it.  But then she caught him between his attempts to get her.  For the first time in five years, he shouted her line into the phone.  "Where are you?"

Callie realized it wasn't fun anymore and began to twist around.  Scully made a mental note to have the cat declawed should both of them survive.  "Mulder, I'm in trouble."  Were those footsteps in the hall?  She started to panic, knowing Mulder and Skinner were too far away to help, and giving in to the average person's response when they were sure they were about to die.

"Scully, what's going on?"  Mulder's voice was worried, but not hysterical.  Not like Scully was quickly becoming.

All of a sudden, she realized something.  She realized that she was a trained FBI agent.  And the panic faded away.  She could handle this.  She pulled a backpack out of the closet, stuffing Callie into it and said a prayer that the people from PETA would understand.  She was saving the cat's life.  She heard a knock at her front door.

Disconnecting the phone, she decided to worry about Mulder later.  She heard a second knock, an impatient one, as she strapped the moving mewing bag to her back.  She was on the third floor.  Another knock.  She decided that the tree was big enough to hold her weight and jumped, leaving the window open behind her.  She was clawing desperately at the branch she'd landed on when she heard the door being kicked in.  Scully hadn't climbed a tree since she was 11, when she had fallen out of it and broken her arm.  It had not been a good experience and she hadn't wanted to repeat it.  But the choice was between staying in her apartment or trying to climb down the thirty feet to the ground.  Or she could just jump and break a lot more than her arm.  Not an option.  She was on a mission to protect her boyfriend's cat and it was proving to be considerably harder than the average feed the neighbors' cat while they're away catsitting expedition.

Her time was running short.  Once she had her precarious balance on the tree, she looked down, quickly assessing the safest, more accurately, the least dangerous, way down. The window had been open.  She had to move or they'd be waiting at the bottom for her.

The trip down was not easy, especially since she wasn't able to pause long enough to really ever get her balance, and she spent the majority of it trying to get a hold on something, praying that anything but the ground would break her fall.  Magically, she slid to the ground, nothing worse than a few cuts and a fresh couple of bruises.  The cat meowed loudly, telling Scully that she hadn't much enjoyed the trip either.  With her feet firmly planted on the ground, Scully took off running.  There was probably someone watching the front of the building, so her car was off limits, not to mention that she hadn't brought her keys.  Or her badge.  Or anything other than her bag full of cat and a phone which had been in her jacket pocket that had probably not fared well.

She ran down different streets, making sharp turns, not doubling back over her tracks for fear of getting any closer to her building, but taking an evasive series of turns and using a number of alleys and yards that she'd previously thought it too dangerous to go through alone.  But matters of safety took on a different kind of importance when one was running from people who wanted to kill them.  Death was only a possibility running through bad neighborhoods on the outskirts of Washington in the dark accompanied only by a cat whereas death in an extremely painful manner was guaranteed if she remained in her affluent neighborhood.

Out of breath, completely lost, and quite sore from the scratches on her back and neck from Callie who had succeeded in tearing through the thin backpack, Scully stopped running.  She had no clue where she was, other than somewhere in the city and she'd been running for 45 minutes.  She told herself that she needed to go to the gym more often.  She continued to walk, her gun tucked at her side, on display for anyone who wanted to approach her.  But one of the cuts she'd received was on her face and she could feel the dried blood on her cheek and figured no one was going near her, except maybe the cops.

She stumbled onto a street corner where neither of the two signs were missing or defaced.  An address.  Good.  Now she could call Mulder.  She punched in the number, patting the backpack, hoping she hadn't traumatized the cat too terribly.

A gruff voice answered the phone.  "Scully?"

"Skinner?"  She thought she'd dialed Mulder's number, in fact, she didn't even know Skinner's cell number.

"Where are you?  What the hell is going on?"

She didn't want to beg a ride off Skinner, but she saw a large group of people walking toward her, decidedly evil looks on their faces.  She held the phone between her ear and her shoulder,  pulled her gun and shouted at them.  "FBI! I'm going to ask you to maintain your distance."  They continued to walk.  "Back away!"  She cocked the gun, leveling it at one of the guys in front.  He held out his hands and stopped his friends, choosing to stand where they were and just stare at her.

"Sir, I need a ride."

She heard him make various disgruntled noises.  "Where are you?"

"23rd and K, southeast."

"Jesus!  How the hell did you get there?"

Several more scary individuals joined her band of admirers.  "Could you please just hurry?"

"I'll send a police cruiser for you."

She disconnected her phone, glaring at the crowd.  Her gun was still trained on them, but if they chose to attack her, she could only hit so many.  Two minutes later, she heard the siren, climbing happily into the smelly back of the car and telling the officers to take her to the hospital.  Skinner was standing in the lobby when she arrived.  She was on the receiving end of quite a few interesting looks, but Skinner's actually stopped her dead in her tracks.  She must have looked worse than she thought.  "Don't ask."  As in, don't ask why I was in that neighborhood, why my shirt is stained, why my pants are torn, why I'm all cut and bloody, why I didn't just get in my car, and definitely don't ask why my bag is growling at me.

He nodded, walking up to the fifth floor with her.  He stopped at a water fountain, soaking up the water onto a napkin, and then turning to face her.  He brought it to her face and began wiping at the blood.  She stared at him, wide-eyed and open mouthed because she couldn't think of anything better to do.  She caught a glance in the trash can, after he'd discarded the napkin and knew, after seeing the amount of blood on it, why so many people had been staring.  She followed him over to the nurses station, where she watched him lean over and swipe a box of tissues.  He pressed one onto the cut by her temple and handed her the rest.  His actions were discombobulating her thought process completely.  She'd never seen the protective side of him before and in all honesty, it freaked her out.

His concerned expression faded into his more common miserable grimace.  The face she was used to and felt comfortable with.  "You need to get that stitched up."

She nodded.  "Where's Mulder?"

He frowned at her.  "You scared the shit out of him.  He ran out the door looking for you."

"Oh, God…"

"Ok, Scully, talk.  What the hell is going on?  Why weren't you here when we got here?"

She looked away, feeling guilty.  "Krycek woke up and said something to me.  I went home to check it out."  She told him nothing about the cat, but added in the wrong number and the phone line and her foray into tree climbing and then her 45 minute sprint.  She didn't mention how very much she'd like a shower either.

"Well, I hope that they were gone before he got there."  Skinner dropped into one of the chairs.

"I hope so too."  She copied his actions, forgetting momentarily about Callie.  Callie let out a growl everyone on the floor could hear.  She took the bag off and set it in her lap, ignoring Skinner incredulous look when she opened the bag and freed Callie.

The cat was too scared to make a break for it, but Scully kept a tight grip on her anyway.  She tried to calm her down, scratching her ears and patting her head, but it didn't work.  Skinner just stared, having no idea what was the appropriate comment to make.  Scully didn't know what the big deal was with Callie, but she knew it was something.  Something that she hoped she'd understand.

As she was petting her, Scully's hand ran across a small bump.  She thought nothing of it, just continued, relaxing with every stroke as much as the cat was.  Her hand hit the bump again, and having nothing better to do until Mulder returned, she leaned forward to look.  It was a small bump, maybe an infection under the skin, she figured.  But looking at it, she realized that it was square.  Perfectly square.  Infections didn't grow in squares.  This was what she was supposed to find, she knew it.

She stood up quickly, roughly shoving Callie back in the bag and completely forgetting she didn't have a car.  "I have to go find Mulder."  She knew he was all right, the men that had gone to kill her hadn't stuck around her apartment for long.  She needed to pull him a little further into the mess she was in so he could help pull her out.

"Agent Scully, unless you're walking back home, I recommend that you sit back down and wait."

She remembered how she'd gotten there.  "Can I borrow your car?"

"I would not let either of you near my car under normal circumstances."

She strapped the pack on her back and put her hands on her hips.  "Oh, come on."  He trusted her, she knew he did.

"Mulder has my car."  He looked slightly green for a moment, obviously thinking about Mulder's single-minded careless determination when he thought Scully to be in danger.

"But he left his phone here."  Her voice trailed off.  There was no finding him.  They were both just going to have to wait for him to reappear.  She settled back down in the chair, keeping a close eye on Callie as she unzipped the bag.  "What possessed you to give him your car?"

His I'm-in-charge face morphed into a plain old unhappy face.  "I didn't give him my car.  He was talking to you, went horribly pale, then dropped his phone and took my keys out of my hand.  He didn't borrow my car, Agent Scully, he stole it."

"Well, you know better than to get in Mulder's way when he thinks I'm in trouble anyway."  She hadn't realized she'd said it aloud until she caught Skinner's surprised face.

He smiled.  "Yes, I certainly do."

Embarrassed, Scully looked down, muttering to herself.  At least Skinner didn't seem to believe that whole 'screwing ratboy' thing Mulder had accused her of.  She looked towards the elevators, hoping they would magically open and reveal her partner.  Instead, she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She turned back to face Skinner.

"He called to check in, right before you did, to see if you'd turned up yet. He's all right."  Scully shook her head and then picked up Callie.  Skinner still hadn't mentioned the cat, and she hoped he would continue to ignore its existence.

"I'll be right back."  She wandered down the hall, finding a janitor's closet that wasn't already locked.  She put Callie inside, giving the poor cat a chance to move around, and pulled the door shut behind her.  Taping up an 'out of order' sign, she checked back in Skinner's direction before heading off toward Krycek's room. She vaguely recognized the agents guarding the door, and they recognized her, luckily not requiring the identification she didn't have to gain entrance.

The lights were off and only the eerie greenish glow from the monitors lit the room.  Scully approached the bed and looked at the sleeping man.  In the darkness, odd shadows fell over his face, making the bruises and cuts seem much more grotesque.  She turned away.  She walked over to the window, casting her eyes toward the almost empty parking lot.

She was so confused.  And in typical style, right when she reached a miserably confusing crossroads, her life spiraled out of control, new problems arising, denying her the time she needed to reach a comfortable decision.  Pulling herself up onto the extended windowsill, she draped her arms over her legs and rested her forehead on them.  Regardless of what she'd told Mulder, she wasn't convinced his actions were only out of jealousy.  She knew it to be a major component, but she wasn't sure it was the only one.  She knew he cared about her, it reflected in his actions. But he'd crossed their understood line, and openly demonstrated his feelings.  Maybe.  It could just have been jealousy, mixed in with a slight bit of physical attraction.

Krycek was the person Mulder hated most of all in the world.  Short of his sister, and possibly not even her, Scully knew she was the person he liked the most.  Thinking that those two people were involved would be a difficult thing for Mulder to swallow.  She couldn't honestly believe that he'd faked the emotion behind his kiss; he'd been too passionate, too gentle, too loving.

She looked out the window again, seeing a lone figure walk towards the door of the hospital.  It was hard to tell from that distance, but she was sure it was him.  He'd never say the words, she realized.  If that was what it was going to take to convince herself, then she knew it would never happen.  She turned back to Krycek.  Undoubtedly, she cared for him, but would she, could she ever love him, knowing what he'd done?

She stood up and headed for the door, knowing better than to be near Krycek when Mulder returned.  She hoped he wasn't going to force her to decide because it wasn't fair.  He knew, as well as she did, that he would win.  No one would ever fill Mulder's place in her heart.  They both knew that.  And she felt guilty thinking that it had taking hurting another person to see it.

She wasn't entirely convinced, though, that Mulder would ever fill, or try to fill, any other aspects of her life.  She wasn't ready to give up on Krycek quite yet.  She'd finally seen him as a victim, rather than a criminal, and it was working wonders on her suspension of disbelief.  Every moment she saw him smile at her, every time he made her laugh, every thing he did that was innocent, or appeared so, blocked off another section of her memory that thought of him as the bad guy.  Pretty soon there wouldn't be any left and Mulder would have an uphill battle from then on.

She made it to Skinner's side by the time the elevator doors opened, revealing a tired, haggard looking, frightened Mulder.  She stood up to approach him, but he crossed the distance in two long strides.  He didn't give her a chance to speak before he extended his arms and swallowed her into a bear hug, complete with iron grip.  He didn't care that Skinner was standing there watching them, nor did he pay any attention to the blood that was still making its way down her face.  He crushed her against him, bending down to press his face against her hair.

"I'm sorry, Scully.  I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean it.  I didn't.  I'm sorry."  He still didn't release her and she didn't resist.

She felt quite content wrapped in Mulder's arms and would have stayed there, even happily relinquishing her right to breathe, but Skinner cleared his throat.  Mulder relaxed his arms and let go of Scully, finally noticing that Scully wasn't looking her particular best.  He continued to ignore Skinner, paying attention only to Scully's cuts and scratches.

"What happened?"

Self consciously, Scully batted his hands away from her face.  "It's a long story."

"I've got time, Scully."

She sighed, knowing she wasn't about to get out of this.  "I fell down a tree for three stories, OK?"

"Have you seen a doctor?"  He was concerned, more concerned about the tree than about the people she was trying to get away from.

"The last time I looked in the mirror."  She turned, wanting to get away from Skinner before she weaved her little web and sucked Mulder into helping her.

A few minutes later, Mulder joined her outside the door of the closet.  "I know this sounds crazy, but just hear me out.  I've listened to a lot of things from you."  He nodded.  She opened the door, extracted the cat from behind the bottles of floor cleaner and handed her to Mulder.  He looked perplexed, but accepted the offered cat.  Scully pulled Callie's fur back and pointed out the bump.  Mulder looked closer at it.

"What am I looking at?"

"I don't know.  The same thing that's in my neck?"  She shrugged and watched the cat struggle to get down.  Scully reached out for her and she settled a little.  "We have to find out, Mulder.  Now."

"Do you think that's what they're looking for?"

"Yeah, I think so.  I just don't think they have any idea where it is…"

Mulder finished her sentence for her.  "…which is why they're trying to kill you.  What do you want to do now?"

"We need to find someone who can get that out, without hurting the cat and then I want to-"  Could she really say this to Mulder?  "I want to go back to Krycek's apartment.  I'm sure there's something there, but I don't know if I'll be able to find it."

Mulder shook his head, thinking over her words, not giving into the urge to grimace at the mention of a certain name.  "The Gunmen can probably help us out with her."  He nodded toward the cat and when he saw her disbelieving face, amended his words.  "I won't let them hurt her.  Can you think of a vet who will help us?"  He waited a beat.  "I didn't think so.  Then we can check into his apartment, OK?"

"How are we going to get there?"  Scully's car was in front of her apartment which was beyond walking distance.  Mulder's car was God-knows-where.  The man was always taking someone else's car because he could never keep track of his own.  But Mulder grinned and held out his hand, revealing the stolen keys.  Scully grinned too, packing the cat back in the bag, and pointing in the direction away from Skinner.  "There's another elevator this way."

"Lead on!"  Mulder fell into step beside her and both of them pretended not to hear Skinner's voice calling after them.

She gritted her teeth while Mulder knocked.  She'd had better days.  So had her clothes, her hair, her partner, and the cat that was exhibiting violent tendencies.  She stood there and rolled her eyes, listening to the dumb pattern Mulder was using to knock on the door.  From inside the pattern repeated.  Mulder lifted his hand to try it again, but he never got the chance.  Scully stepped forward and kicked in the door, stepping forward out of the presence of one dumb-struck man and into the presence of three others.

She ignored them, putting the growling bag down on the closest table and waiting for Mulder to explain.  Frohike walked over to the door, examining the damage, and then looked back at Scully.  He nodded approvingly with a smile on his face.  "Wow."  Scully rolled her eyes and looked back at Mulder.  He was still tying to figure out where her short temper had come from, but he joined her side, helping her restrain the unhelpful bag.  She took the keys from where he'd left them and nodded at the cat.

"She'd better be OK when I get back.  Do you understand me?"

Mulder nodded.  "Where are you going?"  He could tell that she didn't want to answer him and knew.  "Scully, it's not a good idea to go there by yourself.  I'll go with you."

"No, Mulder, you have to keep an eye on her.  I don't trust them not to pull her tail and an assorted list of other types of violations comes to mind when I think of the three of them with a cat."

"Then wait for me.  I really think it's a bad idea for you to go alone."  She shrugged at him, letting him know that she would heed his warning, and then stepped to the door.  Mulder put his hands up on the door, refusing to let her leave, and waited until she turned around to lean over and whisper.  "Please, Scully. please just wait.  I don't want something to happen to you."

As usual, the moment he leaned into her personal space, her ability to think disintegrated.  She could only stare up at him, with her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and accepting.  He stared into her eyes for several long moments, the silence in the room stretching on uncomfortably, the witnesses to this exchange too intrigued to even make a comment. Mulder's hands were braced on the door, above either one of her shoulders, his face mere inches from hers.  She knew he wasn't going to kiss her, not in front of his friends, not knowing he'd probably face rejection again, but she recognized that he was going out on a limb with others watching and she couldn't let it go unrewarded.  She bowed her head forward, resting her forehead on his chest and hugging him tightly.  She did understand his concerns, but she couldn't violate Krycek's trust and have Mulder in his apartment.  Mulder hugged her back, knowing she wasn't going to stay and wishing they were alone so he could guilt trip her into staying.  But he couldn't act like a big baby in front of other people, so he prepared to let her go, resting his mouth close to her ear to issue a plea for her to be careful.

She withdrew her arms and looked down, afraid to let anyone see the emotions that were hovering so close to the surface.  Her voice was barely a whisper when she forced it out.  "I'll be back in a little while."  She turned around and pulled the door closed behind her, pausing to gather herself together for a minute before she left.

No noise was coming from inside the room, and then, just as she was about to leave, she heard Mulder's voice ring out, directed toward the group of men who acted like they'd never seen two people in love before.  "What?"  He sounded slightly annoyed, and she knew it was only because he was embarrassed.  She felt bad for leaving him like that, having displayed the soft, vulnerable underbelly of Fox Mulder for all to see.  She was the only one who'd seen it before.  She smiled as she walked away.  He was changing, and only because she wanted him to.  She was amazed that he was willing to play the game, even dragging his feet and whining.  But he was playing and it was going to make it considerably harder to hurt his feelings.  Maybe she wouldn't have to.

She made it to the car before she realized what she'd thought.  The Gunmen had never seen two people in love before.  She called her and Mulder two people in love.  She unlocked the door and climbed into the car, adjusting the mirror so she could see her own reflection.  "What the hell am I thinking?"  Her reflection didn't answer.  "What am I doing?"  Again, her reflection was silent.  She turned the mirror back and started up the car.  She couldn't answer herself, probably a psychological block because she knew she didn't really want to know the answer.  If she thought about Mulder being in love with her, then she would have to feel guilty for hurting him, even more than she already did.  She'd already figured out that he would never tell her in words, that she would have to interpret his actions.   And he'd put his arms around her in one day more times than in all the years she'd known him.  That fact alone told her that he wasn't in love with her, he was only jealous.  Maybe he did care about her and was worried about her involvement with Krycek, but she wasn't convinced it was love.  And until she was, she wasn't going to hurt someone else.

She drove to Krycek's apartment for the second time that night, this time knowing what to expect.  Sort of.  She knew the minute she walked in that they'd been back.  They'd probably followed her and thought maybe she'd left whatever that thing was there.  She pulled her gun, automatically checking the apartment for intruders.  No one was there, at least not that she could see.  She put her gun back in the holster and wandered through the apartment again, not sure where to start.

He'd tried to tell her something and she'd understood part of the message.  Mulder was working on that.  But there had to be more.  She reassembled one of the couch cushions and sat down, trying to think.  The only thing he'd mentioned to Mrs. Sylenski was the cat.  He'd wanted Scully to take care of the cat.  And then he himself had told her to take care of Callie.  But he'd been sick and barely able to speak.  Could he have said 'Ali' and she'd just heard it wrong?  He'd said he didn't know where Ali was.  An idea started to form in her head.  Maybe he'd lied to her because he thought someone was listening, or maybe because he was afraid she'd turn on him.

She reached to the back of her neck, feeling the metallic device implanted just under her skin.  As much as she wanted to believe it had been her frantic prayers that had saved her, she knew in the pit of her stomach that the thing in her neck was keeping her alive.  Maybe someone else needed it too.  Maybe Ali was suffering the way she'd been, desperately needing the implant to survive brain cancer.  Maybe whatever Krycek's wife had been involved in had eaten away at her conscience and she'd experimented on her own daughter.  It made more sense to her that Krycek had gone to all those lengths to rescue his child than just to find out who'd killed his wife. She just had to figure out where the child was.

Scully looked around the room, her eyes eventually falling on the remnants of the pictures.  He'd seen her looking at them.  She slid off the couch and knelt down to pick up the photos.  The frames were shattered and she carefully took each picture out to avoid cutting herself, examining the frame and the back of each picture, hoping to see something.  She finally reached the picture of him and the baby, the only frame that had survived the fall.  She opened it, taking out the backing.  There was another picture hidden in there, a wallet sized school picture of an adorable little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes with one front tooth missing.  She looked just like her father, except for the hair.  She flipped it over.  'Callie, First Grade,'  A recent picture and her real name. Krycek had gone out of his way to find that cat, she was sure.

Now she knew what the girl looked like, and had what would save her life.  All she needed was to find her.  She reached for her phone, about to call Mulder and see what was going on when she remembered that Skinner had Mulder's phone, presumably holding it ransom for his car, while he was trapped at the hospital guarding the man who'd tried to kill him.  She started to laugh softly, thinking about what a mess her life was and how nothing ever worked out easily.  She was commanding an operation of sorts, involving her jealous partner, her pissed off boss, her murdering lover, a mysterious little girl who was probably dying of cancer, and their cat which was undergoing makeshift surgery to save the girl.  Scully stuffed the picture into her pocket and headed for the door, trying to decide on her next step.

While she was driving back to pick up Mulder, she tried to go over Krycek's words in her head.  At least part of what he'd told her, that part that had made her believe him, had been a lie.  It was more than a simple lie though, it was a clue, should she be concerned enough to look for it.  As soon as Krycek was back on his feet, she really was going to deck him.  Really, to make up for not having done it the last time.  She was about a block away from where she would pick Mulder up, when she remembered part of Krycek's story.  He'd said that Becky had sent him information in the mail.  It was a long shot, but it was something.  She turned the car around and headed for her apartment, hoping the men would be long gone.

She ran in the building just long enough to grab the mail out of her box and then she ran back to the car as fast as she could.  She felt a hundred times better when she was locked in the car again.  Then she sorted through her mail, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  Mostly bills, a catalog, and then she saw a plain envelope, addressed to her in a handwriting she didn't recognize and a return address that was only a few blocks away.  She tore it open, and finding nothing but a blank piece of paper drove to its origin.

It was a small house, with a yard full of Fisher Price everything, obnoxiously bright colors still visible in the dark.  The lights were off and as far as she could tell, no one was home.  She parked the car and checked her watch.  It was a little past ten, not too late to knock on a stranger's door, but sufficiently late to be a burden to someone with young children.  She got out of the car and knocked on the door, seeing a sign on the mailbox that read 'Annette's Day Care.'  Or late night care, Scully thought.

The door cracked open and a middle aged woman's face appeared in the crack.  "Can I help you?"

Scully withdrew her badge and held it out for inspection, giving the woman a moment to absorb the information before she explained who she was.  "I'm Dana Scully…"

"Dana Scully?"  The voice sounded concerned.  How did this woman know her?

"Yes, I'm Agent Scully with the FBI."

The door slammed shut, but Scully could hear the sound of the chain being undone.  The door swung open wide, and the woman motioned with her hand to invite Scully inside.  "I'm Annette.  Come on in."

Scully stepped inside, not sure whether to scared or not when Annette latched the door behind her.  "I'm sorry to bother you this late…" Scully didn't know where to start.  This was where she was supposed to end up, but she wasn't sure how much of what she'd pieced together was accurate.

"Don't worry about it."  She patted Scully's arm and smiled, revealing lines that aged her face considerably more.  "It's been years since my own children moved away and I love having them stay late."

Scully looked around, definitely not in the mood for a chat with a lonely person.  "Um…"

"Alex gave me your name and said you might be by to pick up the baby."

Scully's jaw dropped open.  "The baby?"  Her voice was squeaky and unnerving to her own ears.  Annette didn't even notice, heading for the stairs.

"When you're my age, they're all babies, up till around 20."  Annette paused halfway up the stairs.  "Well, come on Dana, I surely can't carry her down.  She's sound asleep."

Scully took a deep breath and decided the woman was too normal to be part of a trap.  She put her hand on the railing and followed Annette into the darkened upstairs.  Annette turned on a light and pushed open one of the doors.  Then she turned to face Scully.

"Her temperature's been a little high today, right around 100, and she hasn't wanted to eat much.  But she did take her medicine, just like a good girl.  She only had one nosebleed all day, so I guess that's good.  I do hope she gets well."

Scully nodded, feeling part of her heart break at the thought that the adorable child in the picture was suffering from the same cancer she'd just suffered.  "Thanks for taking care of her, Annette.  I'm sure Alex will thank you himself as soon as he gets a chance."  She stepped into the room, lit only by a small night light, and could barely make out the tiny sleeping form on the bed.  She scooped up Callie in the blanket she was sleeping in and turned to Annette.  "Did she have anything with her?"

Annette pointed to a bag in the corner.  "Just her school books."

Scully bent down to pick them up and then adjusted the sleeping girl in her arms.  "Thanks again."  Then she headed back to the car.

The little girl stirred when Scully set her in the back seat and fastened a seat belt around her.  "Mommy?"

Scully pushed Callie's hair back and smiled at the still sleeping child.  Her hair was thin and dull, probably from chemotherapy, and a tiny trickle of blood began to run out of her nose.  Scully grabbed for the stack of tissues in the glove compartment, still ready from when she was expecting nosebleeds to strike at any moment.  She wiped at the blood, glad that it stopped quickly.  Callie slept through it so Scully walked around and climbed in the driver's seat, driving back to pick up Mulder and Callie's cure.

She drove much more carefully after she left Annette's, feeling terribly protective of the little girl who probably knew little of the things that were going on around her.  She knew nothing about it except the physical pain she was made to suffer which was only inflicted on her to make Krycek suffer.  Scully found herself forgiving him for lying before she even knew how much of what he'd told her was fabricated.  If it were her child, she would go to any lengths, do anything she could, to protect her.  Her mind flashed back to Emily, to the things she'd done for her own child, the child she'd barely known existed for more than a week.

There was no price to high to save your child, she knew.  And even though she'd already given him a motive and a pardon, she wasn't sure he'd actually done the crime.  He might have lied to protect his daughter, but Scully couldn't believe that everything had been a lie.  He'd been too relaxed with her, too calm to be lying constantly.  When she thought about it, she realized that he hadn't used her.  He'd already known where the child was, and he had the implant.  He was just trying to hide from the people who wanted to kill Callie just to torture him.  She knew firsthand how effective the men were who were behind this.  The easiest way to control people was always to go after the people they cared about.

She pulled up to the headquarters and noticed that Callie was awake.  Scully hesitated, prepared for the child to be scared out of her mind at being with a stranger.  She looked at the girl and smiled.  "Hi, Callie."

Callie regarded her uncertainly for several minutes, stretching her arms out in front of her and yawning, before her face broke into a smile.  "Are you my mommy?  I don't remember what she looked like."

So part of Krycek's story was true, Scully knew, if Callie didn't remember her mother.  "Why would you think that I was her?"

Callie unbuckled her seat belt and tried to climb over into the front seat, but the effort was a little too taxing and she started to wheeze.  Scully pulled her over the seat back and into her lap, stroking the girl's hair and rocking her slightly.  "It's OK, Callie."

When she caught her breath, Callie's bright smile returned.  "I know.  It just hurts some times."  Scully could see the unmistakable wisdom in Callie's eyes, the understanding that adults wished they had in the face of a child's suffering.  "Daddy always tells me that mommy was beautiful, so I thought maybe you were her."

Scully smiled, cheered up by the innocent honesty of the child.  She extended her hand.  "I'm Dana, a friend of your daddy."

Callie shook Scully's hand and looked up at her.  "It's nice to meet you."

Scully started to laugh at the realization that the man who had ridiculously polite manners where his job was brought into consideration, had taught his child the same manners.  "Believe me, the pleasure's all mine."  She opened her door and climbed out, hearing a whimper emanate from Callie.  Fearing she was sick, Scully turned around.  "What is it?  What's wrong?"

Callie was pouting with her hands on her hips.  "Daddy always carries me when I'm tired."  Scully smiled, relieved that it was just six year old obstinacy and not injury that she was dealing with.  She lifted Callie into her arms and went in to retrieve the rest of her party.  She put Callie down just outside the office door, asking her to stay there for a moment and then pushed open the door that now had no lock due to her kicking it in earlier.

The guys were spread out around the office, busily doing paranoid activities.  Mulder was hunched over at a table.  She could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was worried about something.  She placed a hand on his back and thought it was odd that he didn't turn around.  She thought it was odd too that no one turned around, not even to make sure it was only her arriving.  She peered around Mulder to see what he was doing.  The now nameless cat was laying on it's side in front of him and he was poking it with his finger at regular intervals.  The cat was not responding.

"Mulder?"  Her tone was wary, ready to accuse him at the slightest provocation.

He turned slightly toward her, still fiddling with the cat every few seconds.  "I'm sorry, Scully?"  He was fishing for the right answer.

She pushed him out of the way.  "What the hell did you do?"  She could see that the cat was still breathing, but she wasn't a vet, and therefore couldn't really tell much about it.

"I think they sedated her a little too much."

"Oh, you think, Mulder?"  She picked up a pen light and tried to pry the cat's eyes open to see if they would respond to light.  It was a losing battle and took to gently shaking the cat instead.  She threw the pen light back on the table, hard enough that it rolled right off and landed on the floor.  "I can't believe you.  I can't trust you with a cat for Christ's sake, Mulder.  Between the four of you, you could have taken the damn thing out without killing the cat!"

"She's not dead, Scully, she's still breathing."  Mulder offered helpfully.  Scully didn't get the chance to respond.

"Max!"  Callie's voice rang out in an almost unnaturally high pitch as she scampered into the room and began rubbing the cat's stomach.

Scully put her hands on her hips and turned to Mulder.  "Do you care to explain to her what happened to Max?"

Mulder was too busy being dumbfounded by the child's presence.  "I…she's… where… who?"

Scully lowered her voice to not call Callie's attention away from the cat.  "Did you get it?"

"Dana?"  Callie tugged on Scully's arm, forcing her attention away from Mulder.  "Is Max OK?  She doesn't normally sleep like this."

Scully patted Callie's shoulder.  "I'm sure she'll be fine, honey."  Or else I'll have to find you an identical twin calico, she thought.  Mulder thrust something in front of Scully, a tiny plastic jar, shaking it enough that they could hear the rattle of the item inside.

"OK, time to play doctor."  She took the vial and then looked at Byers, who was the only one who had dared to glance back at her.  Frohike and Langly were still glued to their computer screens, their guilt evident.  "What kind of first aid supplies do you have around here?"

Byers smiled nervously.  "What are you in the market for, Dr. Scully?"

Scully smiled, her hand still resting on Callie's shoulder.  "A little outpatient surgery, maybe?"  All eyes, except the little girl's, turned to her, each wondering if she wasn't planning on some kind of sick revenge.  She glanced at Mulder, gesturing to the vial. "This is what I think it is, right?"

He nodded.  Not sure who the recipient was about to become.  "Same as yours as far as we could tell."

Byers waved Scully toward a room off the main one.  Scully lifted Callie up onto the counter with Max and pointed at Mulder.  "Now you make sure he behaves, OK?"

Lifting her up, both Mulder and Scully got their first good looks at the girl.  Scully managed to hide her gasp.  Callie, the happy looking girl in the picture, was terribly pale, with dark circles under her eyes, sunken cheekbones, lips that were practically the same color as her skin, and those beautiful green eyes of her father's were dull, almost lifeless in appearance.  Scully swallowed hard, recognizing the sick look as how she had looked.  Callie smiled at the two adults staring at her, ignorant, as Scully had been, of exactly how bad she looked.  Mulder looked away, Scully blinked back tears.  No wonder Krycek was homicidal.

"I'll be right back."  Mulder's voice was low and thick and Scully turned back to look at him.  He looked like all the wind had been knocked out of him.  He turned and left the office quickly.

Scully glanced back at Callie.  "OK, sweetie, you just sit here and pet Max for a minute, and,"  She pointed at the two men seated before computers.  "scream if they come near you."  Callie laughed.  "As loudly as you can, all right?"  Callie nodded happily.  "I'll be right back."

Scully walked with Byers into the other room, finding the few items she needed to implant the object in Callie's neck.  She gathered them together, and then asked where she could wash her hands.  While she was scrubbing them, she closed her eyes and prayed that she was doing the right thing, but deep in her heart, she knew she was.  She vowed to go buy a rosary and say it a few times just to make sure.  Then she turned back to the girl, and tried to explain.

"Callie, I don't know if your daddy told you, but I'm a doctor and this," She picked up the vial and shook it, watching Callie's eyes dash over to it and then back to her face.  "is going to make you feel better. I have to give you an operation and then you'll feel better, OK?"

"I won't be sick anymore?"

Scully shook her head, noting that Mulder had slipped back in the room.  "No, you'll get all better."

Callie smiled.  "Daddy won't cry anymore?"

Scully felt her own tears threaten to return.  "No, he won't have to."  She glanced at Mulder, who appeared to be uncomfortable.  Her attention was drawn back to Callie when the girl tried to grab one of her freshly washed hands.  Scully stepped back.  "I can't hold your hand right now.  I need to use both of them."

Callie's face fell.  "I wanna hold your hand!"  Her voice wailed, stupefying the five adults in the room who had little to no experience with children between them.  Mulder stepped forward and clasped Callie hand.

"I know I'm not as good as Dana, but how about if I try?"  Both Callie and Scully smiled.  He might not be used to it, but he did have a natural ease with kids.  They usually responded to him.  Callie nodded, squeezing his hand and closing her eyes as Scully had instructed.

"I'm gonna pretend you're my daddy."

Mulder glared at Scully, knowing who the aforementioned 'daddy' was and not liking that he was the substitute.  Scully suppressed her smile, applying the local anesthetic to Callie's neck.  Scully checked her watch and after a few abnormally silent minutes tapped on Callie's neck.

"Can you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Nothing."  Scully went to work, silently thanking Mulder for having the foresight to Callie's hair away when it started to settle back toward the incision.  Frohike and Langly approached and peered over Scully's shoulder, trying to see what she was doing.  Byers handed her things as she asked for them.  Mulder let Callie pretend that he was Krycek.  And Callie, the object of all the attention sat still and peeked at her sleeping cat.

Ten minutes later, Scully was taping a gauze pad over her work, hoping she hadn't just given the child cat scratch fever, or some other obscure disease by transplanting the chip.  Satisfied that she'd done all she could, she patted Callie's shoulder.  "All done!"

Callie opened her eyes fully.  "My neck hurts."

Scully nodded and looked around, finally locating a pack of Looney Tunes stickers and giving it to Callie.  "Better?"

Callie nodded.  "Yup."

Mulder was still attached to Callie's hand, something that Callie didn't appear to be ready to change.  Scully glanced at Max and poked her, pleased when the cat's eye twitched.  "Let's go, Mulder."  She tried to pick up Callie, but she pulled away.

Pointing at Mulder, she spoke.  "No, him."  Scully raised her hands in surrender and scooped up Max instead and headed for the door.  Mulder awkwardly took Krycek's daughter in his arms and followed Scully to the car.

Mulder was exceptionally quiet as they drove back to the hospital.  Callie had attached herself to his neck and refused to let go until she fell asleep.  He gently worked her hands free and put her down in the middle of the front seat and letting the girl's head fall against Scully's shoulder.  Scully glanced over at him several times, wondering how he was taking all of the things going on.  She reached over to brush his hand, thinking it might open up some kind of communication.  His head jerked up and he turned to look at her.  She offered him a small reassuring smile and let her hand remain on his.

He grasped her hand for a moment before letting his drift to Callie's face, pushing her hair away from her face.  Scully pulled her hand back, affixing it to the steering wheel, stealing a look every few minutes at Mulder, who was staring at the child between them.  Scully had seen the resemblance between Callie and her father immediately when she saw the picture.  The pale, sick looking child sitting next to her, though, looked nothing like the picture, nothing like her father either.  But Mulder had known nonetheless, knowing that Scully was protecting Krycek's daughter, knowing that Krycek had lied, knowing that all of their lives were on the line for this little girl.

Neither said anything, riding in silence back to the hospital.  When they got there, Scully parked in the fire lane out front.  She lifted Callie out of the car, leaving Max with Mulder.  "I'll send Skinner down.  I'm sure he wants to go home.  Would you mind taking the cat home with you?"

"What are you going to do?"  He got out of the car, walking around to the driver's side to stand next to her.  "If they've made an attempt on both of you, is it really a good idea for you to be here with him?"

Scully shrugged, shifting Callie onto her other shoulder.  "I don't think they have any idea where to look for the chip anymore.  But I would feel better if you stayed in a hotel for the night."

Mulder stared off into the parking lot.  "I'd feel better if you came with me."  He looked back to her, his concern obvious in his eyes.  "I'll bring you back first thing in the morning, Scully.  You can't do anything here tonight.  It's not safe for you to be here.  It's not safe for her either."  He nodded towards Callie and Scully was touched by how concerned he was for the daughter of a man he hated.

"I know you don't understand this, but I need to be here.  And

"What?  You think I had anything to do with this?"  His voice was raised and Callie shifted in Scully's arms.

"No, I know you have nothing to do with it, but you have a greater impact with the men behind this.  Or maybe even Skinner…"  No one ever listened to her.  But Mulder and his slew of contacts, they usually had an effect.

"Scully, there's nothing I can do."

She didn't believe his words.  "Can you try or is it too much to ask?"  The girl was starting to weigh heavily on her arms, which were still tired from her escape act down the tree.

"Scully, I'd help you if I could, but there's really nothing I can do."  He opened the door, preparing to get in the car.

"Fine, don't help me.  But don't leave until I send Skinner down.  You're not making me spend the night with him asking me where the hell you are."  She turned to walk away, shifting Callie back on to her other side.  Mulder grabbed her arm, pulling both her and Callie into his arms.

"Please, Scully.  I know you're mad at me, but this isn't safe.  Stay with me, you can keep her with you and I'll see what I can do."  He loosened his arms and Scully stepped back.

"You'll only help me if I leave with you, right?"  She didn't like the game he was playing.  But she did need his help.  "Fine, Mulder.  I'll go with you, but I want to be back here in the morning.  And I don't want to hear any complaints about it."

He nodded and smiled,  holding the door open for her.  "I'll go get Skinner, you stay here with whatshername."  Scully glowered at him.  He'd heard Callie's name, but pretending he didn't know it was his game to continually make her aware of his disapproval.  Her glare had little effect and neither did the face she made at his back as he walked away.  She settled in the back seat, laying Callie down next to her, letting Callie's head rest on her lap.  She stroked the sleeping child's hair and hoped again that everything would work out for them.  She let her own head fall back against the seat and closed her eyes, knowing that sleep would come quickly following the exhaustion from the day.

When Mulder and Skinner returned to the car, Scully and Callie were sound asleep.  Skinner glanced in the car, at the two sleepers and then looked back at Mulder.  Mulder shrugged at him.  "It's probably better if you don't ask."

Skinner nodded, getting in the driver's seat of the car, and waited for Mulder to get in before he drove away from the hospital.  "Are you going to tell her?"

Mulder stared back over the seat at his sleeping partner.  "I'll tell her when she wakes up."

"I'm not sure keeping it from her is a real good idea, Mulder.  I think she might kill you."

"She might kill me if I wake her up."  Skinner smiled and Mulder turned back around to face front.  "If I tell her tonight, she going to insist on coming right back here.  I'll tell her in the morning."

"Tell me what in the morning?"

Mulder and Skinned glanced at each other uncomfortably.  Skinner moved the car into the turn lane, prepared to drive back to the hospital.  Mulder cleared his throat and looked down, speaking quietly, knowing he'd been caught.

"Uh, Krycek's been, well, there were, um…"

"Spit it out, Mulder.  What happened?"  Her voice held an odd mixture of sleepiness, concern, anger, and fear.  The child mumbled softly in her sleep and clutched at Scully's shirt.

"There were some complications, Scully."  Mulder's head ducked a little lower, guilt rising up at not telling her immediately.

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, the only emotion detectable was fear.  "Is he OK?"  She bit her lip hard, determined not to cry in front of her partner and her boss even if  Krycek wasn't all right.

Skinner answered, knowing that it would take hours for Mulder  to stutter out the words.  "He's in surgery, Agent Scully. The doctor said there was some internal bleeding that hadn't been detected earlier."

"If it wasn't found sooner, how did they find it now?"  It was usual for the doctors to rethink their first diagnosis without reason in the middle of the night.

Skinner glanced at Mulder before continuing.  "He went into cardiac arrest."  He watched Scully's reaction in the rear view mirror.  She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling guilty for not being there, and her faced paled.  Her throat worked convulsively to choke back the sob that threatened to escape.

It was several minutes before she could respond.  "But he's OK?"

Mulder remained silent, letting Skinner continue the explanation.  Skinner had been there while it was happening, so he was a better source anyway.  "He'll be in surgery for at least another hour.  But they were optimistic."

Callie whimpered loudly, still holding onto Scully's shirt.  Scully soothingly rubbed Callie's stomach, shushing her.  But Callie's voice rang out anyway.  "Daddy!"  The child's cries successfully masked Scully's own quiet tears.

Scully pulled Callie into a sitting position, holding the girl in her lap and rocking her.  "It's OK, Callie.  Daddy's all right."  She whispered quietly, slowly calming the girl back down, her words almost convincing herself.

Scully never issued the command to return to the hospital, so Skinner continued the drive to Mulder's apartment, glad to have the situation out of his hands for a little while.  Scully stepped out of the car, trying to hold Callie, who had become very restless since her nightmare.  Scully couldn't keep a firm hold on her, and Mulder. without waiting for a prompt from Scully, stepped forward to take Callie into his arms.  Then he carried her into his apartment and set her down on the couch, carefully covering her up with a blanket while Scully watched.

He glanced back at Scully, wanting to apologize to her for not telling her.  He wanted to comfort her in some way, but he knew anything he said would start trouble.  He wasn't Krycek's biggest fan, but for the first time since he'd met Krycek, he wasn't happy about the prospect of Krycek dying.  He didn't know the whole story, but he did know that a suffering child lent a whole new depth to Krycek's actions.  Maybe Scully was right about the man.  Mulder wasn't sure.  But he did know that his partner was hurting and he did the only thing he could think of to help.

He wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry on his shoulder.  He whispered to her that everything would be all right.  He let her sleep in his bed that night, with his arms tightly wrapped around her and her face pressed into his neck.

She woke up early the next morning, laying in the dark for almost an hour before she thought about getting up.  Mulder's arms were still wrapped around her, his face resting on her hair.  He was breathing loudly, and she couldn't be sure that he wasn't having a nightmare.  She pressed her hand against his chest, trying to reassure him that she was still there.  He mumbled softly, turning away from her and then returning to sleep.  She immediately missed the warmth of his body next to hers and she scooted forward to curl up behind him, her arm resting lightly at his waist.  A few minutes later, he rolled back over, and pulled her back into his arms.  They stayed like that for a while, the same position they'd fallen asleep in, before Scully sat up.  She glanced back at him, touched by the way his arms reached out for her.  Bending back over him, she kissed him gently on the lips and then slipped out to the living room.

Callie was still sleeping, having thrown off the blanket in her sleep.  Her mouth was open, one hand above her head, the other hanging off the side of the couch.  The last thing Scully wanted to do was wake the poor child, but she didn't think Mulder would really appreciate having to baby-sit.  Besides, she wanted to see how Callie was feeling.  She reached out and shook her shoulder.

"Callie?"  A tiny mumble from the child, a yawn, and then nothing.  She tried again.  "Callie, sweetie, you need to wake up now."

One of the girl's eyes opened.  "Sleep daddy."  The eye closed again.  Scully pulled her into a sitting position and starting putting on the child's shoes.  "Don't wanna get up."

Scully finished tying the shoes and then pulled Callie onto her lap and started working at the knots in her hair.  "Callie, wake up."  Scully's fingers found a knot and Callie yelped, fidgeting around until Scully let go.  "Honey, do you know what your doctor's name is?"

Callie shrugged.  "I don't know my ped, peedi, the kid doctor.  I don't know him, but Dr. Franklin is my other doctor."

Scully tried combing through the tangles in her own hair.  "What do you see Dr. Franklin for?"  She figured it was a dentist.

"He takes the pictures of my head.  He says he wants to make me feel better and gives me stickers."

Bingo.  Dr. Franklin was exactly who she wanted to see.  But there were probably a lot of Dr. Franklin's.  "Do you know what his first name is?"

Callie danced around Mulder's living room, coming dangerously close to knocking a stack of papers off his coffee table.  Scully stood up then, quickly scribbling a note for Mulder and left with Callie and the keys.  Callie kept talking and dancing as Scully walked.  "Daddy says it's not nice to call grownups by their first names."  Scully smiled, still not used to Krycek's preoccupation with good manners.

"Callie, do you know what it is though?  Does your daddy call him by his first name ever?"  She could try calling every Dr. Franklin in the phone book.  It would take all day and irritate the hell out of her, but she could do it.

Callie thought about it, waiting patiently for Scully to open the door to Mulder's car before climbing in and making race car sounds. "Vroom vroom!"  Scully smiled, told Callie to buckle her seat belt, and then got in herself. "I think daddy calls him Jack some times. Maybe."  A definitive answer.  How helpful.  Scully heard Callie shuffling around and peered into the rear view mirror to see what she was up to.  She couldn't see a thing,  and knew the girl was trying to reach something on the floor.

"What are you doing, Callie?  It's not safe to ride in a car like that."

"Here!"  Callie threw something over the seat.  Scully waited until she was at a red light and then glanced at the business card.  Dr. Jack Franklin, pediatric oncology.  Scully took out her cell phone and punched in the number, setting up an emergency appointment for ten minutes later.  She knew she'd be hopelessly late, having to drive from Virginia into Maryland, but she was sure that Callie's condition would be worth pushing back a few appointments.

"Daddy said you might want that."

"What do you mean?"  It still bothered her to think that Krycek had known what was going to happen and hadn't let her in on it.

"He told me that a pretty lady might pick me up from Mrs. Annette's"  Scully smiled at how Callie turned the woman's first name into a last name.  "and he said that if you did, you might need to take me to the doctor."

Scully sighed.  She couldn't fault the man for not being prepared.  "Callie, did your daddy give you anything else that I would need?"

Callie frowned, apparently deep in thought.  "Yeah, one more thing, but I have to take off my seat belt to give it to you."

Scully pulled to a stop at another red light, wondering if she should just wait until after rush hour to go to the doctor.  "We're stopped now, you can give it to me if you hurry and then put your seat belt right back on."

Callie unhooked the belt, stood up on the seat and bent over into the front.  Sully turned to look, not sure what the girl was doing.  The girl gave her a kiss on the cheek and then sat back down and fastened her seat belt.  There was no hiding the foolish smile on her face.  "He said to say thank you for him and he loves you."

"He… he said what?"  She could barely force the words out.

"He said to say thank you for him and he loves you."  The sound of a horn alerted Scully to the fact that the light had turned green and she stepped hard on the accelerator, determined to ignore what Callie had said.  The girl was probably just embellishing the truth.  Maybe her and her father were pathological liars.  "Hey, Dana? If my daddy loves you then I love you too."  Scully smiled and hoped Callie didn't expect an answer.

Scully said nothing for the rest of the trip.  She couldn't really think of anything appropriate to say other than a prayer of thanks that Mulder and Skinner had not been present for that announcement.  It couldn't be true, she decided.  He'd helped her out of guilt, she'd helped him, they'd slept together for some unfathomable reason, and now she was saving his daughter's life.  It was no weirder than the rest of her relationships, but that wasn't saying much.

She pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and walked Callie into her doctor's office.  Callie's condition was serious enough that she visited the doctor in an office adjoining the hospital, in case there would ever be a need to admit her immediately.  The nurses at the desk smiled, recognizing Callie immediately.  Since Scully heard them mentioning Callie's name, she didn't bother explaining to them who she was.  She apologized for being late, hung hers and Callie's coats on the rack and then sat down, watching Callie page through a book.

She didn't hear the name the first three times they said it, psychological conditioning having given her the ability to not hear when she wasn't being spoken to.  Or when she didn't know she was being spoken to.  She did see Callie look up. though, and turned to see a nurse standing in the doorway.

"Mrs. Krycek?"

Scully reached for Callie's hand and followed the nurse, years of being mistaken for Mrs. Mulder teaching her that it was better not to argue.  Callie climbed onto the table in the exam room and Scully settled into a chair.  The nurse looked at the chart, her face drawn and pained seeing the history that Scully knew all too well.

"So, why is Callie in to see Dr. Franklin today, Mrs. Krycek?"  The nurse didn't see Scully's wince and Callie was busy swinging her feet so she didn't notice either.

"Actually, it's a private matter that I'd prefer to discuss with Dr. Franklin himself.  If you don't mind…"  Scully was polite in her dismissal, but it was a dismissal all the same.

The nurse pressed her lips together, her unhappiness now stemming from Scully's attitude rather than the depressing chart pointing to a child's death.  "Yes, well, you were considerably late, so Dr. Franklin will be in as soon as he's available."

Scully crossed her legs and folded her arms.  "Yes, well, that'll be fine.  Please do let him know it's urgent, though?"  It wasn't worth arguing about.  The nurse walked away, leaving Callie's chart in the basket on the door.  A second later, Scully swiped at it, paging through, locating the test results that were only a few days old.  It was exactly as she'd suspected, Callie's medical chart could easily have been switched with Scully's own.  Satisfied, she put the chart back and went back to waiting impatiently.

Miraculously, the doctor arrived a few minutes later, not making them wait as long as Scully had initially feared.  Dr. Franklin was a handsome man in his early sixties, gray hair and well kept beard, and he was outgoing and friendly.  He shook Scully's hand firmly, then turned his attention to Callie, producing a well loved stuff dog.  Then he looked back at Scully.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Krycek.  I was under the impression that Alex was a single parent."  He paged through the chart.  "Now what brings you in today?  I just saw Callie last week, and she seemed all right then."  He sounded concerned and Scully wanted to congratulate Krycek on finding a doctor that actually cared about his patients.

"Please, call me Dana."  She took a deep breath and did not relish that fact that she was about to play Mulder.  "I realize that she just underwent a CT scan last week, but I would like for you to do another.  I have reason to believe that her cancer either has, or is about to, go into remission and I'd like for you to check."

Dr. Franklin looked at Callie momentarily, then put his arm around Scully's shoulder and led her into the hallway.  "Dana, I understand that this is difficult for you to accept, especially with the sad results of the most recent tests, but you need to understand that Callie is nearing the final stages of terminal cancer.  We're doing all that we can for her, but you and your husband need to be prepared for the inevitability of Callie's death.  I have the names of a few people who might be able to help you, you might want to give them a call."

Scully pushed away from his arm, irritated that he just assumed she was in denial.  "Dr. Franklin, all I'm asking is that you run another scan.  If it comes back the same, then this is the last you'll hear of me.  I know how desperate I sound, but I think there is something worth looking into here."  She watched his face for any sign of give.  He shook his head and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.  "If you won't order it, I will find someone else who will."

Dr. Franklin did not look happy about having his authority questioned.  "All right, if you insist, I will subject her to another round of needless radiation and waste all of our mornings, but I expect that you will not do this again."  Scully nodded, glad that he'd given in.  She didn't know of anyone else who would do it and she didn't want to make a bigger scene than she already had.  They walked back into the room with Callie.  Franklin wrote out a script for the CT scan and instructed Scully to call back later that afternoon for the results.  She smiled, trying to be as apologetic as possible, since she didn't really want to ruin any of Krycek's friendships.  But she was sure that Franklin was in for the surprise of his life when he got the results.

Scully reached out her hand, and Callie hopped off the table and took it happily.  "Where are we going, Dana?"

Scully turned down the corridor into that connected them to the hospital.  "We have to get a test done, then we're going to have some breakfast, and then we're going to see daddy."

"Yea! No school!"  Callie was smiling so hard that Scully thought her face might break.  She couldn't believe the change in the girl in such a short amount of time.  She wondered if the change in herself had been so dramatic and so quick.  She wasn't an objective witness to her own illness, so she couldn't be sure.  And she knew better than to bring it up with Mulder.  He was more sensitive over it than she was.

The CT scan only took a few minutes, since Callie was relatively used to the procedure and twenty minutes later, they were in the cafeteria having pancakes.  Scully felt awful for the amount of time it was taking her to go see Krycek, but she was scared.  She was scared that she was going to get there and he would be dead and not only would it somehow be her fault, but she would be the one who had to explain it to his daughter.  Callie was an exceptionally perceptive child, a trait she recognized from the girl's father.

"Watcha thinking about?"  Callie speared a forkful of pancakes, slathered it with syrup and shoved it in her face, dribbling syrup down her face.

Scully pushed her pancakes around on her plate.  "Your father."  No use lying to her now.

"Is he sick?"  Scully looked up, alarmed.  "You look upset and I just thought that daddy might be sick."

"He's been hurt, Callie, but I think he's going to be all right.  We have to see what the doctor says."  Scully crossed her fingers under the table.

"Daddy said that you would keep me safe."  Callie aimed another scoop of food for her mouth and missed, letting all of it fall into her lap.  "Oops."

Scully reached over with a napkin, scraping as much syrup off Callie's pants as she could, wondering how much more daddy had said and knowing it was going to come out a piece at a time no matter how hard she pushed.  She threw the napkins on the table, left a few dollars for the check and slowly walked upstairs to the ICU.  She'd waited as long as she could bear to and she desperately wanted to know how he was.  They'd barely spent any time together, but she missed him and she wanted to be with him.

When they got to the right floor, they stepped out of the elevator holding hands.  Scully took a step forward, but Callie lingered behind.

"What's wrong, Cal?"

Callie sniffled.  "Pick me up?"

Scully groaned and did as she was asked, knowing that Callie had no idea that Krycek was considerably stronger than Scully was and probably didn't mind hefting his daughter around.  It was probably easier to run holding a kid than with a kid trailing behind.  She admonished herself silently for the thought, since she'd already decided that she believed he wasn't running from the law anymore.  She shook her head and walked toward Krycek's room.

"Dana?  It says I'm not allowed here."  Callie sniffled again.

Scully whirled around, seeing the huge 'No Children' sign behind the desk.  She patted Callie's back.  "Don't worry about it, honey.  It's OK."

There were still agents in place outside his door and Scully let Callie slide down to the floor.  She left Callie with the men, wanting to check on him first, before his daughter had to see him.  At least he made it through the night, she thought.  She still wished she'd called to check on him, though.  She pushed through the door and stepped up to the bed.  His eyes were closed, and she was pretty sure that one of the was swollen shut.  The bruises looked worse to her and the slow unsteady beep of the heart monitor made her nervous.  She bent down to kiss him lightly, on the lips, just as she had kissed Mulder that morning.  She took his hand in one of hers and then ran her free hand down his cheek.

One of his eyes blinked open and once he recognized her, his face broke into an obviously painful grin.  "Hi."

She squeezed his hand, so happy that he was awake that she couldn't speak for a moment.  "I got your messages."  He looked confused.  "All of them, I think."  He nodded slightly, squeezing her hand back.  "I brought someone to see you."  She let go of his hand, walking back to the door and bringing Callie in.

She couldn't have imagined seeing such an incredible smile on his battered face.  "Callie!"

She tried to pry herself out of Scully's arms, but Scully wouldn't let her go.  Krycek was in no condition for a six year old's bear hug.  He'd never live through it.  She did suspend Callie over him long enough to let her kiss his cheek.

"I told Dana your message, daddy!"  Callie was bursting with pride.

Krycek look startled, and didn't meet Scully's eyes.  "Callie, you were only supposed to tell her that if something happened."  Scully tried to hide the smile on her face.  He was embarrassed.  She thought it was cute.

"It's OK, Alex."  He still didn't look at her, so she ran her fingers through his hair.  He met her glance hesitantly.  She smiled, not ready to repeat the sentiment, but thinking for the first time that some day she might be ready.  "Callie's taken quite a liking to Mulder, you know."  Krycek's jaw dropped open.

Callie grinned.  "Fox is funny!"

Krycek tried to scowl at her, but it hurt his face too much.  "Traitor."

Scully raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him.  "I can hurt you, mister."

He reached up to take her hand away from his face and held it between both of his.  "Yes you can."

She didn't mention that the chip had been safely transplanted into Callie.  She didn't see any point in getting the poor man's hopes up just to have to hurt him later.  There was no way to know how Callie was until the test results came back in.  She checked her watch and headed back to Mulder's car.  Then she listened patiently to the child's colorful directions.

"See that blue car?"  Scully nodded obediently.  "Well, there's a blue car by my school, but it's not that kind.  And it's a darker blue."

Scully sighed unhappily.  This had been in the process of happening for almost an hour and, as far as she could tell, they were nowhere near a school.  "Callie, do you know the name of your school?  I might know how to get there."

"I know how to get there!"  A pouting six year old was worse with directions than Mulder.

"OK, well, what's the name of it anyway?"

"I don't wanna go school!"

Scully sighed again.  "You have a choice between school and Annette.  Decide now."  She was silently hoping for Annette, since she knew where it was.  Callie whined, but stopped when she realized that Scully wouldn't respond the same way her father did.

"School."

Scully rolled her eyes and prepared for another round of car landmarks.  They got to the next street and Callie issued a helpful 'turn that way' with out any indication whatsoever of which way she'd intended. Scully turned right, and a few blocks later, stumbled over a school.  She couldn't remember ever having been so happy to see a building in her life.  Scully parked the car in the fire lane and took Callie into the school office.  The child began to tremble in fear at the thought of going to school late, but Scully wouldn't relent.  As sweet as Callie was, Scully didn't want to baby-sit for another few hours.

The secretary offered to walk Callie to her classroom, allowing Scully the opportunity to leave.  The girl gave Scully a hug and then slowly walked away with the helpful secretary.  Scully returned to the car, waiting several minutes before pulling out her phone and calling Callie's doctor.

She was left on hold for several minutes, while the nurses scrambled around to figure out the incongruous CT scan results.  Eventually, she received the expected, cancer-free news from the disbelieving office staff.  Sliding the phone back into her pocket, she aimed the car back towards Mulder's apartment.  He was missing when she got there, and a quick call to the hospital revealed that Krycek was sound asleep.  With nothing to do for the moment, she sprawled on the couch, turning the radio on for noise, and tried to sleep.

A while later, she woke up to find a strong pair of hands gently working the tension and knots out of her shoulders and back.  She couldn't tell if she was dreaming or if she was awake, but it was one of the most relaxing things she could consciously recall.  She sighed happily, not particularly caring who heard her or how hard he was going to laugh at her.  It didn't matter though, because he didn't say anything.  He was kneeling on the floor next to the couch, using the massage as an excuse to touch her.  He perceived it as a good sign that she hadn't told him to back off, but then, he had never known her to talk in her sleep either.

His touch lightened slightly once she was awake, but the massage continued.  She turned her head towards him, blinking her eyes open for a minute to satisfy the need to make sure it was really Mulder and not some psycho who wanted her relaxed before he killed her.  He smiled at her and she smiled back.  His hands slowed, and his touch lightened even more.  It wasn't a massage anymore, it was a caress and she wasn't sure what she should say. She could tell he didn't know either.

Fearing where the massage was heading, she rolled onto her side to face him.  One of his hands remained on her back, the other dropped to his side.  They contemplated each other silently for several minutes, until she cleared her throat.

"Where have you been?"  As uncomfortable as she wanted to be, she liked having his arm around her.

"I could ask you the same thing.  When I fell asleep, you were next to me.  By the time I woke up, you were long gone."  He didn't sound like he was accusing her of anything, but given their last few days, she couldn't be sure.

"Callie needed to go to school."  She sat up, not feeling comforted by his arm any longer.

He moved to sit beside her, giving her ample space to not touch him.  "Did you have to take her to the doctor too?"  She nodded and broke eye contact, knowing that with Mulder, only telling part of the truth was the same as lying.  "And she probably had to get some sort of test done to confirm the results of the implant?"  Another nod, this time her gaze drifted to her shoes and her chin dropped toward her chest.  "And the test was probably done at the hospital?"  She shrugged since it was hard to nod while her head was ducked down so far.  "And you stopped to visit your boyfriend, right?"

Her head snapped back up and her eyes narrowed.  "He is not my boyfriend.  I didn't do anything wrong, Mulder."  Just speaking the words, she was aware of how guilty she sounded.

"If you didn't do anything, why are you being so defensive?"  He stared back at her, silently daring her to say something to condemn herself.

Seeing his smug glare, realizing that he thought he'd won some point, infuriated her.  She jumped up off the couch and grabbed her jacket, completely forgetting that she didn't have a car to get in.  "I'm being defensive because you're trying to make me feel guilty."  In the process of looking for her keys, she remembered not having a car.  She threw her jacket on the floor and dropped into a chair, running her hand across her face, leaving red streaks where her nails dug in a little too deeply.

Mulder was fairly adept at playing psychological games, but felt too hurt over the whole thing to realize that hurting her wasn't the way to win her back.  Annoyance flickered across his face, understanding that she wasn't leaving his apartment until he took her somewhere.  "I'm not making you feel guilty, Scully.  If you feel guilty, maybe it's because you've done something wrong."

She hated the guilt that rose up at his words.  She knew he'd done it intentionally and that he'd known it would work.  She stood up again, shaking her head in anger and disappointment and pain.  It didn't matter to her anymore that she would have a long walk ahead of her.  She pulled her coat on and headed for the door, pausing to look back at him and glare.  "What is it that you want to hear?  You want me to tell you that I snuck out of here last night and went to the hospital and fucked him?  Is that it?  And I'm not supposed to question your behavior at all?"  He stood up to interject something malicious into her argument, but she held up her hand to stop him.  "I guess I'm not supposed to notice that after five years of you showing no interest in me beyond casual friendship, when there's suddenly someone else in my life, someone besides you who isn't related to me, that's when you finally realize you're interested in me?"  He said nothing in the second she paused to gauge his response.  "Well, fuck you, Mulder, at least he isn't trying to play games with me."

She turned and walked out, too angry to even slam the door.  She was halfway down the hall by the time she heard his voice calling after her.  "Scully!  Where are you going?"  They both knew it was way too far for her to walk.  "Scully!"  She ignored him, deciding to take the stairs when the elevator didn't move fast enough.  Unfortunately, the stairs gave him the opportunity to chase her.  He caught up to her within a few strides, making a grab for her shoulder which she promptly twisted out of his grasp.  "Stop running away from me."

She didn't, raising her voice slightly to make sure he heard her.  "Leave me alone, Mulder.  I'm not in the mood to soothe your hurt feelings.  For all I care right now, Mulder, you could rot in hell."

"Scully!"  He reached for her again, taking a firm hold on her arm and jerking her to a stop.  He had misjudged the speed she was moving though, and his grip on her arm caused her to trip forward.  He reached out with his other hand to steady her.

She tried to pull away, but he wasn't letting go.  "Get off me, Mulder.  Or I'll scream and someone will call the police."

He let go of one arm, but kept a tight hold on the other.  He stepped down to stand beside her, trying to turn her to face him.  "The people in this building never call the police, Scully.  They all know it's just me and the odd variety people that freely come and go from my apartment at will."

"I'm not in the mood to joke around, Mulder.  I want you to leave me alone."  She tried to wrestle her arm free again, and this time he let her go.  She didn't move.  "I'm going to tell you right now that there's no way I'm going back upstairs with you.  With that said, do you have anything to say?"

He could smell defeat, but he wasn't above banging his head into a wall.  "You said that he wasn't playing games.  Do you really believe that?  Look at us.  Don't lie to me and tell me that this was going on before he reappeared.  Now we can't even stand in the same room."

She crossed her arms and looked up at him, at the man she knew better than anyone else in the world, yet still couldn't understand.  "So you're saying that nothing was going on with us before him, right?"  He nodded cautiously, knowing she was about to get him to contradict himself, trying to figure out how before she did it.  "That was exactly the point I was trying to make, Mulder.  You had no interest in me before someone else did.  And now, you can't stop touching me.  What the hell is wrong with you?"

He looked down, knowing he either had to admit defeat or embarrass himself by telling the truth.  He could live through embarrassment, he couldn't live with lying to her.  "Before he showed up, I had you all to myself, Scully.  I didn't have to compete with anyone for your time or your attention.  I could delude myself into thinking that you weren't ever going to leave me, that maybe you felt the same way.  And now, you're sleeping with him and you're telling me that you never noticed how I felt about you before, that I'm just making up how I feel.  Why would I lie just to hurt you?"

She turned away, refusing to see the pain in his eyes.  "When was I supposed to notice how you felt?  When you were running off without me?  When I was dying and you thought you were responsible?  That wasn't love, Mulder, that was guilt.  Even though you had nothing to do with it, you still felt guilty.  Welcome to my world."  She began to walk forward, wanting to ignore his words.

"Scully, look at me and tell me you honestly believe that I don't care about you."  His voice was so imploring that he may as well have tackled her and forced her to look him in the eye.

When she reached the bottom of that flight, she looked back at him.  "I know you care, Mulder, but you don't love me."

"How can you be so sure?"

She was too far away to tell if he was crying or if it was just the odd lighting in the stairwell.  "Because you would have said something."  She turned and walked down the last flight and stepped out into the obnoxiously bright sunshine.

He didn't follow.

She made it about half a block before she heard the quiet hum of a car engine behind her.  She stood still and watched him pull into the shoulder and roll down his window.

"Get in the car, Scully."

She glared at him, especially because she knew her choices were limited.  "I'd rather not."  But then again, she'd also rather not have to walk either.

"I'll take you home and I won't say a word.  Just please don't make me worry about you."

She put her hands on her hips and continued to glare.  "Not a word?"

He shook his head, demonstrating how serious he was.  After a moment, she sighed and got in the car.  Mulder was true to his word, not saying anything during the half hour trip.  She hesitated to get out of the car, recalling her last visit to her apartment.  Scully was looking up and down both sides of the street for anything that looked suspicious when she felt a hand brush hers.  She whipped her head around, not sure whether she should be alarmed or annoyed at him.

He withdraw his hand immediately and looked down, embarrassed at himself.  "I, uh, well, um, I talked to someone this morning.  You aren't in anymore danger.  At least not right now."  She stared at him, feeling guilty for getting mad at him while he was trying to help her.  She knew he wasn't trying to hurt her.  "And he's not either."

She nodded.  She knew he'd gone out on a limb for her and that he had no interest in protecting Krycek.  He'd done it for her.  And she'd yelled at him.  "Thank you."  She couldn't apologize, there was no way to make what she'd said go away.

"Scully?"  She hadn't looked away, so she wasn't sure why he said her name.  "I know you're still mad, but I was hoping that maybe, later on, if you think you could stand to talk to me, maybe you could call me?  But I mean, you know, if you're still mad, then it's OK.  You don't have to.  I mean, only if you want to…"

She squeezed his hand.  "You're rambling, Mulder."  His head lowered even further and she was afraid he might hit his head on the steering wheel soon.  She pushed open the door and climbed out, leaning back in and touching his hand again to get his attention.  He raised his eyes to hers for the first time since they'd argued.  "I'll talk to you later, OK?"

He offered her a half smile and waited until she was safely in the building before he left.

A few phone calls later, she had arranged for Annette to pick Callie up from school and watch her for the evening.  Mulder wasn't going to call her unless she called him and Krycek wasn't about to come looking for her.  Scully kicked off her shoes and sat down on her couch, trying to remember how to relax.  She made an appointment for the following day to have someone come out and put her kicked-in door back together.  After flipping through all the channels her cable service provided, she turned the television off and stretched out, staring at her ceiling.

She had needed time to think and now that she had it, she didn't want to think.  She feared that exhaustion would play into whatever decisions she made and would spend countless nights worrying about it, know that it might have been the wrong choice.  Mulder was her partner and best friend, but he wasn't as naive and innocent as he'd have her believe.  He had been playing his share of mind games with her, assuming that he'd win if she had to make a choice.  She couldn't really blame him for his arrogance, since she hadn't done anything until recently to prove him wrong.  She was well aware of the fact that her feelings for him ran considerably deeper than she admitted and that thought bothered her.  If she'd only realized it a few weeks, or days, earlier, the entire chain of events may have been different.

But the events couldn't be changed.  She needed to deal with them as they were, not how they might have been.  And that left her horribly confused.  As much as she couldn't ignore her feelings for Mulder, she could hardly deny her reaction to the mere thought of Krycek.  She had learned so much more about him in the few days since she'd found him in her apartment.  And every single thing she learned about him made her respect or admire or care for him a little more.  He knew he was fighting an uphill battle, he seemed willing to fight for her affection, and he seemed genuinely surprised at anything Scully did to return his feelings.

Just thinking about him, the way he smiled, the gentle way he touched her, the emotion that danced across his face when he teased her, everything, made her heat beat a little faster.  There was no chance she could brush it off as friendship, they shared no friendship to fall back on.  Everything she felt for him was real and new and not just a 'what if' that had been lingering just below the surface for years.  She had Mulder's friendship, and his love on some level, so she was relatively sure that if she was making a horrible mistake, he'd still be there.  If she closed the door in Krycek's face, she knew he'd never come knocking again.

She smiled to herself, in the midst of her indecision, feeling a nervous wave sweep over her just anticipating talking to Alex again.  Her heart had made its decision and her head followed suit.

It was just over a week later that Krycek was released from the hospital, a few lingering bruises and strict orders to rest following him home.  Scully's apartment was as close to its original form as it would ever get; Krycek's was still a mess.  Since she had no immediate plans to go clean it, she reasoned that he could stay with her until he was able to put his apartment back together.  And that entailed having a six year old move in, along with her cat.  Twenty seconds after she'd helped Krycek limp into the apartment, it was already too noisy and she seriously started to rethink the decision.  But one look at Krycek's happy smile convinced her to deal with it.

The first night he was home, a little while after Callie had fallen asleep on Scully's bed, Scully joined Krycek on the couch, loving the way his arm curled around her shoulders when she leaned against him.  She knew it would take some time to get everything straightened out.  Nothing would be permanent for quite some time, not until long after Krycek and his daughter moved back into their own apartment.  But the week had been enough time for her relationship with Mulder to even out, although he had quite blatantly left the door wide open for her should she ever change her mind.  It even seemed to her that he had forgiven her or that he was at least pretending.  Skinner didn't seem to be harboring a grudge and Callie's health had continued to improve.

She let her eyes drift closed, leaning on Krycek, watching a movie and feeling settled for the first time in a long time.  She hoped that things were going to stay that way for while.  The reassuring arm around her shoulders held her tightly, letting her drift into a contented sleep knowing that everything was going to work out.

The End

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