Raleigh Police Station
12:33 PM

 
Something had changed. Mulder and Scully could feel the 
undercurrent of restrained excitement the moment they entered the 
building. Grey stood behind his desk, phone tucked between ear 
and shoulder as he wrote on a yellow legal pad.

"…That's right. Take the car straight to impound; forensics can go 
over it for trace evidence." He motioned them over, still scribbling 
frantically. "What did you expect, a spontaneous confession? Just 
get him in here; we can hold him for up to 48 hours if we have to."

"You've located Talbot?" Mulder's voice was scrupulously neutral.

"Our APB paid off. A state trooper spotted him about fifty miles 
south of here, on Interstate 95. They're on their way in now, should 
be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Is Claire with him?" Scully asked.

A wisp of doubt dimmed the satisfaction shining in Grey's eyes, 
but he shrugged it off. "No. But he could have her stashed 
somewhere--a motel, a friend's place. Once he sees we're onto him, 
I'm hoping he'll come clean about everything, including where to 
find Claire."

"Which direction was he headed?"

Grey turned to his brother with a frown. "What?"

"Talbot. Which direction was he headed when the cop stopped 
him, north or south?"

Grey glanced at his notes. "North." When his brother didn't reply 
other than to flash Scully a significant look, he folded his arms. 
"What?"

Mulder's face was expressionless but a hint of impatience crept 
into his voice. "Don't give me that. You know what."

"So he was heading toward the city. He still didn't show up for 
work the past two days, and he's still the most likely suspect."

"Grey…"

"This is the first break we've had, Fox. If things go well, this 
nightmare might be over in a matter of hours. Allow me a little 
optimism, all right?"

"Grey?" Kira wound her way through bodies and desks until she 
stood beside Scully. "Is it true? Did they find Steve?"

"He's on his way in right now. No sign of Claire--yet."

"I want to be there when you talk to him."

"Kira…" Grey looked at Mulder.

"Kira, it's not a good idea." Mulder reached around Scully to lay a 
hand on Kira's shoulder. "Aside from the fact that it could 
influence Steve's response to questioning, it's completely against 
police procedure."

A line appeared between Kira's brows. "Unless I'm mistaken, Grey 
working a case that involves family isn't exactly going by the book 
either. Claire is my child; I have the right to hear what Steve has to 
say."

"Does your interrogation room have an observation area?" Scully 
asked Grey. 

He nodded, relief softening his features. "Yeah. I guess that would 
be all right." He turned to Kira. "You'll be able to listen in without 
him knowing you're there. Okay?"

A slight hesitation before she returned his nod. "Okay."

Grey glanced around, then beckoned to a nearby uniformed officer. 
"Covelli, would you please show my sister to observation for 
interrogation B?"

When Kira had been escorted away, an awkward silence fell 
between the three. Scully watched Grey fiddle with his pencil and 
Mulder shuffle his feet, biting back the urge to knock their heads 
together. When Grey finally spoke, it was with eyes still trained on 
the pad of paper.

"So… Find anything else at Kira's?"

Mulder caught the slight jerk of Scully's head from the corner of 
his eye. He gritted his teeth but kept his tone mild. "Nothing I care 
to share at the moment."

Grey looked up sharply. "I'm not sure if I should be disappointed 
or relieved."

Mulder bared his teeth in a grin. "Like you said, this may all be 
over in the next few hours."

"But you don't think so."

"I think…"

Grey's phone trilled and he scooped it up. "McKenzie…Put him in 
B; we'll be right there." He dropped the receiver back onto its 
cradle, scooped up a folder, and stood, tugging his jacket from the 
back of his chair. "Let's go."

Talbot was seated at a small wooden table, hands cuffed in front of 
him, when they entered the room. Scully wasn't sure what she 
expected, but it certainly wasn't the harmless-looking man with 
weary eyes and a slight build. He looked up, eyes widening, then 
narrowing at the sight of Grey.

"I should've figured you were behind this. At least maybe now I'll 
get some answers."

"These are Special Agents Scully and Mulder from the FBI," Grey 
said as he and Scully took seats at the table. Mulder wandered to 
lean against the wall at a point just beyond Talbot's left shoulder. 
Talbot's gaze flicked quickly over him before returning to Grey.

Grey set down the file folder in his hand and pressed both palms 
against the scratched and pitted tabletop. "Claire is missing."

Talbot stared at him, blank expression quickly transforming to 
angry confusion. "Missing? What the hell is that supposed to 
mean?"

"She wasn't in her bed when Kira went to wake her up yesterday 
morning. We've searched the area, checked in with all her friends. 
No one has seen her since Monday night."

"That doesn't make any… Why would she run off like that? And 
how could an eight-year-old kid just disappear?"

Grey's face remained impassive but his hands curled slowly into 
fists. "Maybe because she didn't 'run off.' We don't believe Claire 
left of her own free will."

"Oh my God." Talbot leaned forward, burying his face in his 
hands. "Do you know who might've…" He dropped his hands, 
glaring at Grey. "Is that why--you can't possibly think I would…"

"Where were you Monday night, Steve?"

"You've got to be kidding." When Grey didn't respond, Talbot 
turned to Scully. "Look, I don't know what he's told you, but I'm 
no kidnapper."

"I know exactly what you are, Mr. Talbot." Scully's voice was cool 
as she drew the folder from Grey and opened it. "Your record 
speaks for itself." 

"That was five years ago. A lot has changed since then. *I've* 
changed."

Something in his tone, hidden beneath the sullen growl, made 
Scully steal a quick look at Mulder, who responded with a barely 
perceptible nod.

"You want custody of Claire," Grey said.

"Joint custody. Just because a man wants the chance to see his own 
daughter doesn't make him a kidnapper, for God's sake! I'd never 
do that to Kira."

Grey's lip curled. "'Course not. You're just a big ol' teddy bear, 
aren't you? You'd never hurt her."

"We've strayed from the question." Scully looked pointedly at 
Grey before returning her attention to Talbot. "There's an easy way 
to put these accusations to rest, Mr. Talbot. Just tell us where you 
were on the night Claire disappeared."

Talbot pressed his lips tightly together before answering. "I 
was…out of town."

"Where?" Grey asked. "And for what purpose?"

A sharp shake of his head before he looked coolly into Grey's 
angry face. "I can't say. It's a personal matter."

"Personal?" Grey's response was low, dangerous. "Like taking 
your daughter from her bed and driving her to wherever you're 
holding her right now?"

Face twisted in rage, Talbot shoved back his chair and stood. In a 
flash Grey was on his feet, hand on the butt of his weapon. "Sit 
down, Steve."

Talbot hesitated, breath puffing in short, hard pants. He dropped 
back into his chair, spine rigid. "I told you I didn't do it. Hell, I was 
400 miles from here. You're wasting your time with me when you 
could be out looking for the real kidnapper." He scrubbed at his 
face with both hands and barked out a semi-hysterical chuckle. 
"But that wouldn't be nearly as much fun, would it?"

Scully tensed as Grey stepped closer to Talbot, looming over him. 
"What are you trying to say?"

"This is your big chance, isn't it? A way to get back at me for all 
the grief I caused your sister? You had me tried and convicted 
before you walked in this room."

"Maybe I just know what you're capable of, you little…"

"Grey."

Scully's hand on his arm pulled Grey back. Barely. He 
straightened, running the fingers of one hand through his hair, then 
stalked over to the door and shoved it open.

"Covelli!"

The uniformed cop who'd escorted Kira to the observation area 
appeared almost instantly, looking ready to bow or salute--Scully 
wasn't sure which. She chewed the inside of her cheek to hide her 
amusement. Evidently Grey's current run of bad temper had 
everyone walking on eggshells.

"Process him and put him in a holding cell." Grey ignored Talbot's 
angry hiss.

"You can't do this. Last time I checked, you need evidence to 
charge someone with a crime." Talbot spat the words at Grey as 
Covelli grasped one arm.

"I can hold you up to 48 hours without charging you with a damn 
thing. With any luck, by then I'll have the evidence I need."

Talbot's reply, as Covelli ushered him from the room, was crude 
but creative. Grey watched him go, then turned on his brother.

"What was with you? You're the great profiler; I expected you to 
say something."

Mulder pushed himself off the wall he'd been holding up, 
shrugging. "You and Scully had things under control. I can usually 
tell more about a person by observing."

Grey folded his arms. "So?"

"I think he's telling the truth. I don't believe he had anything to do 
with Claire's disappearance."

Obviously not the answer Grey wanted. "Were we just in the same 
room? The guy refuses to account for his whereabouts Monday 
night. Why--unless he has something to hide?"

Mulder shook his head. "I didn't say he's not concealing something. 
I just don't think it has anything to do with Claire."

"Really? Have you got anything to back up that opinion? Or am I 
just supposed to take it as face value because it comes from 
Spooky Mulder?"

Mulder's eyes went dark and flat. Scully started to speak, desperate 
to say anything that might deflect the anger, but he cut her off. "I 
watched him, Grey--did you? I saw his face when you told him 
Claire was missing, and I'm telling you, he didn't know. I 
guarantee when you get the forensics on his car there'll be no 
physical evidence, just as there was none at the house."

"You wrote him off from the beginning." Grey uttered the words 
softly and nearly without inflection, a sure sign he was furious. 
"You'd rather believe Claire was taken by ET than accept the truth. 
I know that son of a bitch, Fox. You ask if I've watched him? 
Damn straight I have--watched him bully and abuse my sister for 
years. He has Claire somewhere, and I'm going to get it out of him, 
with or without your help."

Mulder stared at his brother, face pale. "Talbot was right, wasn't 
he? This isn't about Claire, it's about Kira and what happened five 
years ago. You *want* him to be guilty, don't you? Damn it, Grey, 
can't you see you've crossed the line?"

For a moment Scully thought it would be all right. Grey's face 
crumbled and he dropped his head, breathing ragged. But when 
Mulder reached out to lay a hand on his brother's arm, it was 
shrugged off and Grey's shoulders stiffened.

"I need to follow up with forensics on the car and search his 
personal affects. Maybe there'll be something to tell us where he's 
been." He stalked out of the room without meeting their eyes.


Raleigh Police Station
2:37 PM


"Mulder."

"Hm?" He looked up into exasperated blue eyes, abruptly aware he 
hadn't spoken for at least five minutes.

She pointed to his plate with her soupspoon. "That's already dead. 
No need to torture it."

Mulder glanced down at the shredded remains of his roast beef on 
rye. He shoved the plate aside and propped his elbows on the table. 
"Sorry, Scully. The bread was kind of dry."

"I warned you to stick to the soup." Her expression softened. 
"Want some of mine?"

"Thanks, but I'm not very hungry." Face pensive, he watched 
several uniformed cops make their way through the cafeteria line.

Scully slid her hand, palm up, across the tabletop. "Then how 
about sharing whatever's going on in that head of yours? You've 
been a million miles away ever since we sat down. We're in this 
together--remember?"

Mulder's lips curved, smoothing some of the lines of tension 
around his eyes and mouth. He slipped his hand into hers with a 
gentle squeeze. "I'm not holding out on you, Scully. I'm just trying 
to process the last few hours."

"You still think Talbot is innocent?"

He chuffed softly. "The last word I'd use to describe Talbot is 
innocent. But I don't think he had anything to do with Claire's 
disappearance. Do you?"

She considered the question a moment before shaking her head. 
"No. As you said, his surprise felt too real to be faked. But Grey 
has a point. If he's not guilty, why won't he reveal where he's been 
the past few days?"

"That's one of the things I've been thinking about. I believe I may 
have the why, if not the where."

"I'm listening."

"Talbot appears genuinely concerned about finding Claire. Yet not 
cooperating with us is counterproductive to achieving that. After 
all, as long as he remains the number one suspect, the police are 
going to concentrate their efforts on him."

"And not on finding the real perpetrator," Scully added.

"Exactly."

"So why isn't he talking?"

"Maybe whatever took him out of town could jeopardize his 
petition for joint custody of Claire."

Scully frowned. "Such as?"

Mulder worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Unpaid debts? 
Drugs? Could be any of a number of factors that would cast doubt 
on his competence as a parent. His past record of abuse already 
works against him. Anything more could be the final straw that 
keeps him from his daughter forever."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We need Talbot to come clean. Grey's not going to move on until 
he does." Mulder made a face. "He's being an arrogant, pig-headed 
bastard about this whole case. He's so convinced he's right he won't 
listen to reason."

Scully looked at him, deadpan.

"What?"

"Do you have any idea how many locals have used those words to 
describe you? If I had a dime..."

"Ha, ha."

The amusement faded from Scully's eyes and she extricated her 
hand from Mulder's. "Kira," she said, smiling at a spot just over his 
right shoulder.

Mulder stood, offering Kira a chair and then reseating himself. 
Scully observed the woman with concern.

"Kira, can we get you something to eat? Some soup?"

"Thank you, but I just... I can't. That's not why I'm here." Kira's 
gaze darted between their faces, her dark eyes huge in her pale, 
pinched face.

"You came to talk about Steve." Mulder's voice was gentle but 
sure.

"Yes." Kira picked up a paper napkin and began twisting it in 
restless hands. "I've just come from the cell where they're holding 
him." She looked into Mulder's eyes. "He didn't do it, Fox. He 
didn't take Claire. You've got to talk to Grey; he won't listen to 
me."

Mulder glanced helplessly at Scully before turning back to the 
distraught woman. "Kira, he's not listening to me either."

"Steve talked to you?" Scully asked. Kira nodded. "Did you ask 
him where he's been?"

"I tried, but he wouldn't tell me. He said he's innocent, and Grey 
will realize that, sooner or later."

"It's the later I'm worried about," Mulder muttered.

"Grey's always been overprotective of me." Kira began tearing the 
napkin into bits, jaw clenched. "He acts as if I'm some kind of 
fragile flower. He doesn't treat Shannon that way."

"Shannon wasn't abused by her husband." Scully's tone was blunt 
but kind. "It's understandable that he doesn't trust Steve, 
considering all he put you through."

Kira's shoulders slumped. "I know, I know. I lived it, after all. But 
since Steve's come back... Something's changed, Dana. He's 
different somehow--calmer. Focused. I'm not saying he doesn't still 
have a temper," she added quickly. "But for the first time since I 
met him, I can see him really trying to control it. I believe him 
when he says he's sorry for the past and that he wants to build a 
relationship with Claire."

Mulder leaned forward in his chair. "Kira, why now? He let five 
years pass without so much as a birthday card to his daughter. 
What changed his mind?"

Kira shrugged, one corner of her mouth quirking. "He said he 
realized life's too short to waste time. And that the people we love 
are all that really matter."

Mulder was silent, tugging on his lower lip, then shoved back his 
chair and stood. "I have a phone call to make. I'll catch up with you 
both later. Scully, make her eat something."

He was gone before either of them could open their mouths. Kira 
looked at Scully, eyebrows raised. "Is he always like that?"

"He has his moments."

"And I thought keeping up with Claire was exhausting."

Scully grinned. "Let me buy you a bowl of soup and we'll swap 
war stories."

Kira hesitated briefly before breaking into a reluctant smile. 
"Sounds too good to pass up."


Interrogation Room B
4:02 PM


"What's going on?" Grey stalked into the room, eyes narrowing at 
the sight of Mulder, Scully, and Kira already seated around the 
table.

"Sit down, Grey." Mulder nudged the empty chair beside him with 
his foot.

Grey ran a hand through disheveled hair, one corner of his mouth 
turned up in exasperation. "Not that I don't want you to make 
yourself at home, Fox, but don't you think summoning me to my 
own interrogation room is taking things a bit far?"

"Scully vetoed the engraved invitations." Mulder waited until Grey 
had taken a seat before continuing. "Covelli's getting Steve. They 
should be here any minute."

Grey's amusement sharpened to wariness. "I'll ask you one more 
time. What's going on?"

Mulder glanced at Scully, then back at his brother. "I know where 
Talbot was the night Claire disappeared. I think I can persuade him 
to talk."

"Why is Kira here?"

"I invited her."

Grey spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't want her anywhere 
near him, Fox."

"She deserves to hear this, Grey. It concerns her as much as any of 
us. More."

"Look, you don't seem to get the fact that she..."

"Excuse me, but 'she' is sitting across from you. Would you mind 
not discussing me as if I'm either hearing impaired or brain dead?" 
Kira leaned across the table, eyes giving a whole new meaning to 
the phrase "if looks could kill." "Grey, I love you for wanting to 
protect me, but back the hell off. I'm not going anywhere."

Grey slouched into his chair and folded his arms. "Fine. I'm not 
getting into a pissing contest with you over this. But I just want it 
on the record that I think it's a bad idea."

Kira rolled her eyes. "As if we had any doubts."

Covelli appeared in the doorway, Talbot in tow. He flushed a bit at 
the sight of Grey's thunderous face. "Uh...Agent Mulder asked 
that..."

"I've heard. Just sit him down over there, Covelli. I'll see he gets 
back where he belongs when we're finished."

Talbot lowered himself into the designated chair, gaze darting from 
face to face before dropping to where his cuffed hands rested on 
the tabletop. "Haven't we done this dance already? I don't have 
anything more to say."

"I think you do," Mulder said. "I think you've got a story to tell, 
Steve. And I think we're the perfect audience for it."

Steve's head jerked up and his mouth twisted into a sneer. "So, you 
can talk after all. Tired of playing the strong, silent type?" When 
Mulder just looked at him, he shook his head. "You're wasting 
your time. Unless you've dug up some kind of evidence to prove I 
took Claire--and we both know you haven't--you're going to have 
to let me go, sooner or later. May as well make it sooner. Got it?"

Mulder ran a hand along his jaw, unobtrusively nudging Grey's leg 
with his own. Even through the brief touch he could feel his 
brother's fury; Grey was like a tightly coiled spring.

"It's not our time that's being wasted, Steve. It's Claire's. See, the 
longer you dick around with us, the longer you remain a suspect. 
And that just distracts us from finding out what really happened to 
your daughter." He showed his teeth in a cold smile. "Got it?"

Steve glared at him, lips pressed into a thin, white line and fingers 
clenching spasmodically into fists. Mulder tipped backward, chair 
balanced precariously on two legs.

"How's your health these days, Steve?"

Talbot froze, smug self-assurance draining from his face along 
with most of the color. He started to look at Kira before catching 
himself. "I don't know what you mean."

"Seems pretty self-explanatory to me. How have you been 
feeling?"

A slight twitch of his shoulder. "Fine."

"Really?" Mulder adopted a faintly puzzled expression. "You sure 
about that?"

"Yes." The response was delivered in a voice that could cut glass.

Mulder let the chair drop back onto four legs with a thud. He 
locked eyes with Talbot, ignoring the questioning looks from Grey, 
Kira, and Scully. "Then maybe you can explain why you spent the 
weekend in an Atlanta hospital." He reached into his coat pocket 
and pulled out two amber prescription bottles, setting them on the 
table in front of Talbot. "And why these were in the medicine chest 
at your apartment."

Scully reached for the bottles but Talbot's hand was there first, 
snatching them up in a clenched fist. "No!" He looked at Mulder, 
anger and sorrow mingled together until they were 
indistinguishable. "Why couldn't you have left this alone, left me 
alone? I needed..."

"Because it's time you got over yourself, Talbot, once and for all. 
This isn't about what you need; it's about what Claire needs. 
Finding her, bringing her home, is what matters."

Steve searched his face for a long moment, evidently finding what 
he needed. He handed the pill bottles to Scully, then dropped his 
face into his hands. Scully scanned the labels before turning to 
Mulder.

"Tegretol? Zarontin?"

Kira caught her breath. "Zarontin? That's an anticonvulsant. 
Steve...?"

"I didn't want you to know." Talbot's voice was muffled. "I was 
afraid if you knew, if the judge knew, you wouldn't trust me with 
Claire."

Kira reached out to peel his hands from his face. "Knew what?"

"I have cancer, Kira. A tumor in the right parietal lobe of my brain. 
It's inoperable." He laughed--a bitter, lonely sound--and looked at 
Grey. "I remember you telling me that one day I'd get what I 
deserved. Guess you were right."

Grey looked away, too stunned to answer. Kira pressed trembling 
fingers to her lips, blinking hard.

"Are you saying you...you're dying?"

Talbot shrugged. "Doc gave me six months two months ago. He's 
got me on some new, experimental treatment, but it's too soon to 
tell if it's helping." He chuckled, desperately trying to appear 
unaffected by her tears. "Makes me sick as a dog, though. That's 
why I have to check into the hospital. If the tumor doesn't kill me, 
the drugs will."

"Don't," Kira said sharply. "Please, don't."

Talbot tentatively slid his hands across the table to cover hers. 
Grey stiffened, but didn't protest.

"When I got the news, after the shock wore off, I started 
wondering what to do with the time I have left.  I tried on a lot of 
different ideas, but no matter where I started, I always seemed to 
wind up in the same place. Claire." He blew out a long, slow 
breath. "My life has been a series of screw-ups, Kira, one right 
after another. But that little girl...she's the only thing I've ever done 
right. I couldn't die without fixing things between us. Without 
letting her know her father loves her, even if he is a loser."

Kira turned her hand and linked it with his. "You should have told 
me the truth, Steve. Did you really think I'd keep her from you?"

His smile was wry. "I haven't exactly given you a reason to trust 
me. I was hoping if I could get my act together, show you I was 
trying to change..."

Mulder stood and motioned Grey and Scully to the door of the 
room. "How about we give them a few minutes?" he said, sotto 
voce.

Grey nodded. He stared at his brother, still bewildered and a little 
shell-shocked. "You're certain that he was in the hospital the night 
Claire was taken? You have witnesses?"

"The doctor wouldn't discuss the details of his treatment with me, 
but yes, he confirmed that Talbot spent three nights there. Too sick 
to be a threat to anyone, from what I can gather. With the 
occasional seizures he's experienced, he's not even supposed to be 
driving a car."

"What gave you the idea to check hospital records?" Scully asked.

"Something Kira mentioned. She said Steve told her life was too 
short to waste. It started me wondering why a guy like Talbot 
would be contemplating his mortality."

"It was a damn good piece of investigative work, Fox." Grey shook 
his head. "You were right. You had reservations about Talbot from 
the beginning, but I was too blinded by my own prejudices to 
listen."

Something loosened in Mulder's chest. "I never said I didn't 
understand why you felt the way you did." He glanced through the 
open door at Kira and Talbot, heads close together in deep 
conversation. "He's not exactly the kind of husband anyone would 
want for their sister."

Grey tucked chin to chest, massaging the back of his neck. "Worst 
part is now we're back to square one. And to be honest, I'm not 
sure where to go from here."

Mulder stole a quick glance at Scully. "I do."

Grey's head snapped up and the atmosphere abruptly chilled thirty 
degrees. "Don't start."

"Grey..."

"It's ridiculous, Fox, and I don't want to hear another word about it! 
Can you imagine what the cops around here would think if I started 
spouting your alien abduction theory?"

Mulder stepped forward, into his brother's face. "What's the 
matter? Afraid they'll start thinking you're as crazy as Spooky? 
Insanity is hereditary, after all."

Scully placed a restraining hand on her husband's arm. "Grey, you 
called us in on this case for our expertise. You can't just ignore..."

"I called you in to help me find a kidnapper, to profile. If you two 
want to chase aliens then you damn well better do it on your own 
time. Leave my family the hell out of it!" Grey punctuated his 
words by stabbing a finger at Mulder's chest. Heads turned at the 
sound of their raised voices.

"This isn't about Scully and me, it's about you," Mulder snarled. 
"You're so worried about what people will think, you'd rather close 
your eyes to the truth than risk looking foolish. It's a pity Claire 
isn't as important to you as your damn reputation."

The blow caught Mulder under the jaw, nearly lifting him off his 
feet. He was sprawled on the tile before he knew what had hit him, 
Scully's angry cry ringing in his ears. 

Grey stood over his brother, rubbing his knuckles. "And it's a pity 
you see Samantha every time a little girl disappears." He turned to 
walk back to his desk, but paused. "Go home, Fox. I can handle 
this on my own."


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
7:17 PM


"You're both acting like stubborn children." Scully leaned in the 
bathroom doorway, arms laced across her chest, as Mulder tossed 
toiletries into his shaving kit.

He paused, razor in hand, to glare at her. "What do you want me to 
do, Scully? Apologize to my brother for knocking me on my ass?" 
He tucked the razor into the case and reached for the shaving 
cream.

"No." She sighed, struggling to keep frustration in check. "I'm not 
saying Grey wasn't way out of line when he hit you. And I'm not 
denying that he's been rude and overbearing when it comes to this 
case." She reached over and plucked the pouch from his fingers, 
forcing him to meet her eyes. "Mulder, he hasn't slept in over 36 
hours. He's worried about Kira and terrified for Claire. You and I 
both know he's got no business running this investigation."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Scully set the kit aside and moved behind him, slipping her arms 
around his waist and leaning her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm 
telling you to cut him some slack. To realize he's not himself, and 
that maybe right now *you* have to be the big brother. Swallow your 
pride and your anger and go make things right with him."

Mulder stared at their reflection in the mirror, fingers tracing the 
darkening bruise along his jaw before covering her hands with his 
own. "Scully, I can't."

"Mulder..."

"No, listen. This is about something far more basic than anger and 
pride. This is about respect, Scully. Respect not just for what I do, 
but for who I am."

"Grey respects you, Mulder, he..."

"He doesn't! He accepts me. Loves me in spite of...me. Fox, the 
brilliant but damaged brother. He's a terrific agent--writes a mean 
profile. Just look the other way if he starts seeing aliens, though. 
Poor guy had a traumatic childhood."

Scully dropped her arms, a chunk of ice in the pit of her stomach. 
"That's not true."

Mulder turned to face her, calm--or perhaps just resigned. "I might 
never have realized, if not for this case." He shook his head, 
looking bemused. "You said it yourself, Scully. What are the odds 
that someone so close to me would be abducted by aliens? There's 
a cruel irony in there somewhere."

His placid surrender infuriated her. "So...what? You're just going 
to chuck the whole relationship? Write Grey off as a lost cause and 
go home? He's your *brother*, Mulder. The only blood relative you 
have left. Isn't he worth more to you than that?"

"No, I'm not going home, I'm going to a hotel. I owe it to Kira and 
Claire to see this case through to the end." Mulder picked up the 
shaving kit, zipped it shut, and shouldered past her. She followed 
him down the hall to the guest bedroom, where he tossed it into his 
open suitcase.

"And Grey?" she asked quietly.

"Despite what you might think, I'm not really angry with him. But 
I...I can't..." His voice turned wispy and broke. She watched the 
clench and release of jaw muscles, the flutter of eyelashes. "I don't 
care if I’m 'Spooky' around the Bureau, Scully, or even with the 
local boys. I don't give a damn what they think. But Grey... It 
matters."

She wanted to argue, torn between hugging him and shaking him, 
but the trill of his cell phone intervened.

"Mulder...Whatcha got, Byers?" He listened a moment, gaze 
roaming the room until it landed on her laptop case. "Hang on." 
Phone cradled between ear and shoulder, he pulled a notepad and 
pen from the side pocket and sat down on the bed. "Go 
ahead....No, all of them...Really?"

Scully's ears perked up at the excitement in his voice. "What is it?"

He waved a hand at her and began scribbling furiously on the pad. 
"Dates and locations. Names, too, if you have them."

Scully tired of listening after a few minutes. Deliberately ignoring 
her open suitcase, she headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. 
She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and wandered 
into the living room. A shelf containing framed photos caught her 
eye, and she moved closer to get a better look.

Grey and Kate's wedding photo, he looking impossibly young and 
eager in a black tux; she radiantly beautiful in an ivory satin gown. 
Grey and Kristen in hiking boots and backpacks, posed against a 
wooded backdrop of brilliant fall colors. The last she recognized. 
Taken by Grey's mom, it was a photo of the three of them--Scully, 
Mulder, and Grey--during a family picnic the previous summer. 
Fresh from a game of softball, they all were flushed, sweaty, and 
slightly disheveled. 

She lifted the photo from the shelf, the dull ache in her chest 
expanding. With Scully tucked under one arm, the other thrown 
over Grey's shoulders, Mulder's face reflected happiness and 
contentment. An expression she'd seen more and more over the 
past two years. She let her eyes drift shut. How had things soured 
so quickly?

The front door rattled and swung open, emitting a gust of chill air 
and Grey. His eyes met hers only briefly before he ducked his head 
and turned to shut the door. Scully replaced the photo and walked 
over to where he was busily hanging up his coat. Evidently the task 
took great concentration, since he focused his whole attention on it. 

"Grey."

"Mark kicked me out--can you believe it? Told me not to come 
back until I'd gotten at least five hours of sleep." His gaze skittered 
over her face to the bottle in her hands. "Think I'll grab one of 
those; I'm parched."

Scully stopped his forward momentum with a firmly placed hand 
to the shoulder. "Grey. We need to talk."

Grey folded his arms across his chest. "What do you want from 
me, Dana?"

*God, give me strength. One is irritating. Two just might push me 
over the edge.*

She gave him a look usually reserved for her husband. "You're as 
bad as Mulder. You can't ignore the elephant in the middle of the 
room and just go about your business."

"I'm prepared to give it the old college try." When she didn't 
respond, he blew out a long, weary breath and pinched the bridge 
of his nose. "I never... I didn't mean to hit him."

Scully handed him her still unopened bottle. "It's not that bad. His 
jaw's a little bruised, but the swelling is minimal."

"Still." Grey twisted off the cap and took a long draught, swiping 
the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. "I know Bill 
knocked Fox around a few times. For me to resort to my fists..."

She shook her head. "What you just said--insinuating he's some 
kind of victim? That's exactly what he's afraid you'll think of him."

Grey's remorse took on a defensive edge. "I just meant I was sorry, 
that I realize..."

"It was one punch, Grey. I must have seen my brothers exchange 
as bad or worse at least a dozen times. Mulder's jaw will be healed 
in a week. The hits to his spirit--that's another matter altogether."

"You've lost me, Dana."

Scully glanced up the staircase, then drew Grey into the living 
room. "Do you know when they started calling Mulder 'Spooky'?"

Grey stared at her blankly for a moment before obviously deciding 
to go with the flow. "I always assumed it was when he relocated to 
the basement and started investigating aliens."

"Understandable, but incorrect. People were calling him 'Spooky 
Mulder' years before he picked up his first X-File. I'm not sure 
anyone remembers who coined the nickname, but it originated 
when he began profiling." Scully shook her head. "There he was, 
fresh out of the Academy, looking barely old enough to shave, yet 
in six months he'd turned the BSU upside down. Not only did his 
solve rate surpass that of older, more seasoned agents, he'd 
managed to write the monograph that led to the capture of Monty 
Props, a serial killer who had eluded police for nearly two years. It 
was downright spooky."

Grey looked thoughtful. "So that's how it started. I never realized."

"My point is, while it was never exactly flattering, initially it 
communicated a kind of respect--even awe. He intimidated the hell 
out of people, but no one doubted that he was the Bureau's rising 
star."

"Until he started to crash and burn," Grey said quietly.

"Mulder took on the X-Files for two reasons, Grey, the least 
significant of which was his mental health. He glimpsed in them a 
path to the truth--truth about his missing sister and about a 
conspiracy to conceal the existence of extraterrestrial life. And he 
dedicated his life to following that path. Nothing was more 
important--not his career, the respect of his peers...not even his 
life."

"Until you."

"And you." Scully walked over to the shelf and held up the picture 
of the three of them. "We changed him, Grey. You and I. We 
pounded on the door long enough, and hard enough that he finally 
let us inside. I didn't become a part of his life out of charity. Did 
you?"

Grey's brows drew together. "Of course not! You don't really 
believe that, do you?"

"No. But I'm not so sure about Mulder."

Indignation gave way to confusion. "Fox? Why would he think 
such a thing? Just because I don't agree with his theory..."

"Don't agree? Grey, you've not only dismissed it, you've ridiculed 
it. But what's worse is that you've ridiculed *him*. That's nothing 
new for Mulder--he's endured similar treatment in countless police 
departments all over the country, gotten pretty adept at deflecting. 
Problem is, you flew in under his radar. He never saw it coming."

She detected a quick flash of guilt before Grey's expression turned 
mulish. "Dana, I love my brother, but I'm not about to let him turn 
Claire's case into an X-File."

"Even if it is one?" She held up a hand to still his protest. "Forget I 
said that, it's irrelevant. Look, you don't have to agree with him, 
Grey. Just respect him. He's earned it."

The sound of footsteps overhead and then Mulder's voice. 
"Scully?"

Scully held Grey's gaze a moment longer before turning and 
walking to the foot of the stairs. "I'm down here."

"Get your stuff together; we've got to get moving." He appeared 
from the bedroom and jogged down the steps, suitcase in hand, 
talking a mile a minute. "Wait'll you hear what the guys dug up. As 
soon as we get checked in somewhere I've got to find a fax 
machine. They've located more than a dozen instances of UFO 
activity across the country over the last two days and in every case 
there's been a corresponding..." He broke off, stalled on the bottom 
step, as he stared at something just past Scully's right shoulder. She 
felt Grey's proximity a moment later.

Grey inclined his head. "Don't stop on my account."

Mulder's eyes narrowed and he spoke through gritted teeth. 
"Thought you didn't want to hear this."

A shrug, but Grey's shoulders were stiff. "Changed my mind."

Mulder descended the last step and set down the suitcase, directing 
his words to Scully. "There have been over a dozen reports of UFO 
phenomena over the last two days--lights in the sky, power 
fluctuations, even a near miss with a small plane. They seem to be 
spread evenly across the country, but with no discernable pattern." 
He glanced warily at Grey before continuing. "The guys are still 
confirming, but...it looks like in each case a child has also been 
reported missing."

There was a long and very pregnant silence before Grey spun on 
his heel and strode down the hall to the kitchen. Scully watched 
Mulder's face adopt the carefully neutral mask he used to conceal 
pain.

"I want copies of police reports for all the missing kids. Some 
precincts may not have email capability, so if we can locate a 
fax..."

"There's one upstairs, in my office."

Grey walked slowly up the hallway and handed Scully a bottle of 
water. "I think I owe you one of these, darlin'." He turned to look 
at his brother. "Got the machine a year ago when I hurt my back. I 
could at least keep up with paperwork while I was stuck at home." 
His gaze dropped to the suitcase. "Don't go, Fox."

Mulder propped hands on hips, shaking his head. "What's the 
point, Grey? Unless you've had a sudden epiphany regarding my 
theory, we've got very different ideas about how this investigation 
should proceed. You've certainly made it clear..." He took a deep 
breath; sighed. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I don't either." Grey ran one hand over his stubbled chin with an 
audible rasp. "I won't lie to you--I think you're way off base. I 
think whoever took Claire was very clever, and very human, and 
that's the direction I intend to pursue. And I'm not likely to change 
my mind, no matter how many reports of lights in the sky you 
show me." 

He glanced at Scully, who was watching him carefully between 
pulls on the water bottle. "But...I shouldn't have cut you off the 
way I did, without giving you a chance to explain. And I sure as 
hell shouldn't have lost my temper and hit you. I'm sorry, Fox."

Mulder shrugged, mouth twisting in a self-deprecating smirk. "I 
tend to have that effect on people." He studied Grey's face as if 
trying to decipher a code. "What exactly are you suggesting? That 
we each pursue our own line of inquiry?"

"Why not? Split up and we cover twice the ground."

"And avoid fratricide." Mulder's tone was teasing, but Scully 
detected an underlayer of bitterness. He hesitated a moment longer 
before nodding. "All right. If you're sure."

"I am." Grey punctuated his words with a jaw-cracking yawn that 
he unsuccessfully tried to smother behind his hand. "Guess Mark 
was right--I really am nearly asleep on my feet," he admitted 
wearily. "Think I'd better grab a quick nap."

"I believe the requirement was at least five hours--remember?" 
Scully cocked an eyebrow as if daring him to argue.

He chuckled, holding up both hands in surrender. "Yes, Ma'am." 
He scooped up Mulder's suitcase as he headed for the stairs. "I'll 
just put this back in your room. Wouldn't want anyone to trip over 
it."

Mulder waited for the sound of Grey's door closing before turning 
to Scully, arms folded. "You talked to him, didn't you?" His 
expression held a mixture of annoyance and affection.

Scully drained the last drops from the bottle and replaced the lid. 
"It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it."

"Do I even want to know what you said?"

"Probably not." She walked back to the kitchen and deposited the 
bottle in the recycling bin. Mulder leaned against the counter, 
looking pensive. She sighed.

"I told him the truth, Mulder. About you. About me. About the X-
Files." One corner of her mouth turned up. "And I threw in a dash 
of verbal ass-kicking while I was at it."

Mulder feigned a wince. "Been there. No wonder he was 
exhausted."

She punched his arm, leaning companionably beside him.

"Nothing's really changed, you know," Mulder eventually 
continued, his voice very soft. "He still thinks I'm a playing 
without a full deck. It's just that this way he doesn't have to watch."

Scully moved to stand in front of him, chin high. "Then I guess 
you'd better deal with him in the usual manner."

He chuffed quietly. "Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

Her answering grin had a core of steel. "Prove him wrong."


Eagle Rock
Thursday
6:33 AM


Coffee.

Grey followed his nose down the stairs, draping his tie around his 
neck but leaving it undone. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, 
lips parted to bless whomever had turned on the coffeemaker, but 
pulled up short. 

The first pale threads of light seeped in through the sliding glass 
doors and onto his kitchen table. At least, he was pretty sure it was 
his table. At the moment it was completely hidden beneath faxes, 
emails, notepads, a large map...and his brother. Sprawled over the 
paperwork with cheek cradled on an extended arm, his deep, even 
breaths surprisingly loud in the stillness, Fox held a pen still poised 
in his hand. Dead to the world.

Grey stepped closer and after a moment's hesitation reached down, 
intending to pluck the pen from unresisting fingers.

"Just leave him, Grey."

The soft voice stalled his hand. He straightened, peering into the 
heavily shadowed family room for its owner. Dana sat curled on 
the couch, sipping coffee from one of his large, ceramic mugs. 
Grey retrieved another from the cupboard, filled it, and joined her. 
Clad in sweatpants and one of his brother's tee shirts, freshly 
washed hair tucked behind her ears, she looked like a college girl. 
Only her eyes, shadowed from weariness and too much pain, gave 
her away.

"Morning." He eased himself onto the cushions beside her and 
took a long, satisfying draught from his mug. "Thanks for making 
the coffee."

She smiled. "You're welcome, though I'm afraid my motives were 
less than altruistic. After a long night, it's the only thing that gets 
me moving." She chuckled quietly. "Mulder likens my first cup of 
the morning to a pair of jumper cables."

Grey tilted his chin toward his brother. "How long has he been like 
that?"

Scully checked her watch. "About three hours."

Grey nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. "Three hours?"

"More or less."

"And you just left him there? The bedroom is right upstairs--hell, 
the couch is only five feet away."

Scully gave him a pitying look. "Either option requires waking 
him, Grey."

"So?"

She sighed. "You've seen him when he's immersed in a case, how 
driven he becomes. What do you think would have happened if I'd 
awakened him?"

Grey looked over at the motionless figure, lips twisting into a 
rueful smile. "He'd've gone right back to whatever he was working 
on."

"Exactly."

He winced. "I can't believe he's lasted three hours. He's going to 
have a helluva backache when he wakes up."

"He likes to call himself an insomniac, but when he's finally out he 
can sleep through just about anything." Her mouth quirked with a 
repressed grin. "He'll leverage my guilt into a backrub."

"I can just..."

The phone rang, and Grey scrambled up from the sofa to answer it. 
"Hello?...Hey, sweetheart, it's good to hear your voice..." The 
warmth faded, sorrow creeping in. "No. Nothing more so far..." He 
wandered out of the room and down the hall, voice becoming a 
distant rumble.

Mulder pushed himself upright with a groan. "I hope you got the 
license plate of that truck." Scrubbing his face with both hands, he 
blinked owlishly down at the tabletop. "Damn. I think I drooled on 
Minnesota."

Scully padded into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. She 
placed it into his hands, then attempted to smooth his spiky hair. 
"Well, they do call it the land of 10,000 lakes."

Mulder wrinkled his nose but refrained from reply. After several 
swallows of the hot liquid his eyes had sharpened from bleary to 
alert. "Did I hear the phone?"

She nodded. "Kristen, I think."

"Grey said she's stuck at a seminar in Chicago. She intends to get 
here by the weekend."

"I hope so." Scully gave up on his hair and sat down beside him. 
"He needs her. Maybe more than even he realizes." 

Mulder stretched, grimacing as tendons popped. He looked more 
closely at Scully, brow furrowed. "You showered? What time is 
it?"

"Just after six-thirty. You were out for about three hours."

"Three hours? Did you sleep?"

She nodded, cocking a thumb over her shoulder. "I stretched out on 
the couch for a while. I woke up about a half an hour ago, so I 
showered and made coffee. And don't even say it, Mulder, because 
you know why I left you here."

His scowl was more like a pout. "My back hurts."

"I've got some ibuprofen in my suitcase."

"Sculleee."

She smirked a bit, but stood and moved behind him. Digging her 
fingers into tight muscles, she peered over his shoulder at the map. 
"So, where were we?"

"Fourteen children gone missing over the last several days. Three 
in California," he touched the map with his index finger, "two each 
in Texas and Colorado...Ah, yeah. Right there, babe...and one each 
in Florida, Wisconsin, Illinois, Georgia, Ohio, Massachusetts..."

"And North Carolina," Scully finished quietly, massaging the back 
of his neck with both thumbs.

"The police reports we've seen so far all read the same. The kids 
range from eight to eleven years of age, both boys and girls. No 
witnesses to the abductions, and a complete lack of physical 
evidence at the crime scenes." He paused; shook his head. "Of the 
non-paranormal variety, anyway. However, the guys have been 
able to correlate UFO activity to each disappearance."

Scully gave his shoulders a parting squeeze and sat down. She 
picked up the faxed photo of a little girl with blonde pigtails. "The 
question still remains--why? Why Claire? Why any of these kids?"

Mulder shrugged. "You might ask the same of any abductee. Max 
Fenig, Duane Barry...I'm sure they wished for an answer."

"Are you suggesting this is only the beginning for these kids? That, 
even if returned, they face a future as human lab rats?"

Mulder slipped the photo from her fingers and replaced it with his 
hand. "I know it's not something either of us wants to consider, 
Scully. But I think we would be remiss not to acknowledge the 
possibility."

She latched onto his fingers, face pale. "If it's true... Mulder, I can't 
help wondering how prevalent this could be. Suppose what's in 
front of us is only the tip of the iceberg? Hundreds of children go 
missing every day..."

They stared at each other, stunned. Mulder released her hand and 
fumbled for his cell phone, hitting speed dial four. The Gunmen.

"Byers, it's me...Yeah, I do know what time it is. Look, I need you 
to do another search for me. Same parameters, only this time go 
back a year or two."

Scully collected both their mugs and took them to the sink, one ear 
on Mulder's conversation. Images of her own abduction pressed in 
upon her, a heavy weight on her chest that made it difficult to draw 
breath. The little she remembered of the experience was 
unbearable. That children could be forced to endure something 
similar was unthinkable.

She braced her palms on the counter, shivering. Remembering 
devastating vulnerability. Powerlessness. The ever present 
sensation of being watched by unfriendly eyes. And then, with a 
gut-wrenching twist, she was assaulted by a vivid image of Emily 
lying in her place.
 
Strong arms around her waist and solid warmth along her spine 
pulled her back from the abyss. She tensed, then melted into 
Mulder's embrace, blinking against the dark spots that danced 
before her eyes. He rocked her gently, stubble tickling her cheek as 
he murmured soothingly into her ear. Moments passed before 
words coalesced into meaning.

"Shhh. Scully, it's okay. Deep breaths. Slow it down, babe."

Abruptly, she realized she was gasping like a fish, respiration 
reduced to short, sharp pants for air, heart hammering wildly. 
Pressing her hands over Mulder's, she concentrated on the feeling 
of warmth and security until her tightly coiled body slowly 
relaxed.

"You all right?" Mulder's lips brushed across her temple while he 
kept her securely enveloped within his arms.

Scully nodded, not sure she could trust her voice. She felt raw, off 
balance, and oddly grateful he could not see her face.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm all right. The lack of sleep, the stress--it just got to me for a 
minute."

"Bullshit." The word was uttered without anger, as if he were 
making a statement of fact. She turned in his arms, frowning, but 
he cut her off before she could protest. "You had a flashback, 
Scully. Do you honestly think I don't recognize one when I see it?"

It took the wind out of her sails. He was right, of course. Denying 
it to Mulder, denying it to herself, wouldn't make it go away. She'd 
tried so hard to treat her abduction like an outdated appliance, 
packed up and stored away in a neatly labeled box. In actuality, it 
was more like an embarrassing page in the family photo album--
something she continued to stumble over whenever she tried to 
move forward.

She wound her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the 
soft cotton over his heart. "The one thing I remember with absolute 
clarity is the fear." She uttered the words haltingly, with effort. 
"The unmitigated terror of being completely at the mercy of others 
outweighed even the pain they inflicted."

"It was like you were there. Experiencing it all over again." 
Mulder's voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked her hair.

"At first it was me. But then..." She steeled herself; took a calming 
breath. "Then it was Emily."

His hand stilled, coming to rest on the back of her neck. "Ah, 
Scully."

The ache in his voice soothed a bit of her own sorrow. "I'm all 
right, Mulder."

He pulled back a little to study her face. "I know you are." His 
smile was a bit grim. "This case is bound to push some buttons. 
For both of us."

"I'm heading into the station, so if you two..." Grey paused just 
inside the doorway to the kitchen, gaze shifting between their 
faces. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Scully said, releasing Mulder and returning to 
the mugs in the sink. "How is Kristen?"

A little of the weariness lifted from Grey's face. "Bored. She'd cut 
out early but she's scheduled to make a presentation today at one. 
She'll catch a four o'clock flight and should get in around seven."

Scully smiled. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me, too." 

Grey replaced the phone on its cradle and leaned one hip against 
the counter, watching her set the rinsed cups in the dish drainer. 
After an awkward moment of silence, Mulder walked over to the 
table, slipped on his glasses, and began shuffling paperwork. 
Scully observed them surreptitiously as she dried her hands.  Both 
appeared willing to look everywhere but at each other, and the 
tension between them was tangible.

Grey cleared his throat. "I, uh, got to be heading in to work. Y'all 
should feel free to help yourself to anything edible in the fridge."

Scully waited until it became clear that Mulder, his head bent over 
the paperwork, wasn't going to respond. She gave Grey a tight little 
smile. "I'm surprised you're still here. I expected you to grab a 
quick nap and sneak back to the station. Mark must be tougher 
than I thought."

Grey snorted and shook his head, a flash of his old self surfacing. 
"Mark? Nah, he's nothing but a big softie. Truth is, I called down 
there just after midnight but didn't see much point to going in. He 
had the database stuff under control, and we couldn't start making 
the rounds until morning."

Scully glanced over at Mulder, who was scribbling on a notepad 
with great concentration. If he sensed her attempt to draw him into 
the conversation, he was ignoring it. She plunged onward. 
"So...you're searching the FBI database for known offenders in the 
area?"

"That's the plan. We'll pare down the list as much as possible and 
start checking them out." An uneasy silence. Grey abruptly 
straightened and scooped up the clean mugs, carrying them to the 
cupboard. "Did that fax machine work okay for you last night?"

"Like a charm." Scully walked over and tapped a stack of paper on 
the tabletop. "We were able to collect police reports for eight out 
of the fourteen missing children. Including Claire's, of course. We 
should be able to get the rest today, right Mulder?"

Mulder nodded without pausing in his note taking. Obviously 
distancing himself from the conversation and Grey, damn him.

"Fourteen? All missing like Claire?" Grey's attempt to sound 
casual failed pitifully.

"That's right. What was it again, Mulder? Eight girls and six 
boys?"

"Nine and five." Mulder lifted his head at last, pinning her with a 
glare that said he knew exactly what she was up to.

Grey stepped closer. "Did they all disappear from their beds?"

"No. But all were taken from their homes, at night. No signs of 
forced entry. No physical evidence of an intruder. No witnesses."

Grey's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He folded his arms. "Kids 
go missing every day. Half the time the guilty party is a relative 
and forced entry isn't an issue. Just because it wasn't the case for 
Claire, doesn't mean it didn't happen to one or more of those kids."

Mulder picked up several sheets of paper. "There are other 
similarities to Claire's case, Grey. Reports of lights in the sky. 
Power outages. Heat damage. I can show you..."

Grey raised both hands, palms out. "We had a deal, remember, 
Fox? You steer clear of my investigation and I don't interfere with 
yours."

"If you would just listen for one minute..."

"I don't have a minute." Grey's voice dropped ten degrees, a clear 
warning. 

Mulder thrust his jaw out and turned away. Picking up the pad and 
pen, he doggedly continued to take notes. Anger expressed clearly 
in the stiff set of his shoulders and the short, controlled motion of 
his hands.

"I'll have my cell phone on if you need to reach me." Grey 
addressed the words to Scully. Posture as rigid as his brother's, he 
was out of the kitchen without waiting for acknowledgement.

Scully's eyes slipped shut in resignation.

*End round two. Both parties to their neutral corners.*

*Sure. Fine. Whatever.*


Eagle Rock
Thursday
10:28 AM


She'd reached critical mass at 9:30. One more minute of pacing, of 
tapping pens, fingers, and toes, of crunching and spitting, and 
Scully was certain she'd be facing charges of manslaughter. She 
doubted any judge would convict her. Mulder was a bundle of 
nerves, snide and sharp-tongued one minute, subdued and 
apologetic the next. At 9:30 she'd plucked the pen from his hand 
and dumped his sweats in his lap, steely eyes daring him to argue. 

He'd just gazed up at her with that trademark smirk. "You know 
what, Scully? Think I'll take a run."

With his departure the house had settled into blessed silence, and 
she'd seized the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

There were good reasons for law enforcement officers not to 
investigate cases involving their family members. Grey's lack of 
objectivity had already proven to be a problem, but Scully was 
beginning to worry about Mulder and herself as well. Samantha 
issues aside, for Mulder this case had become as much about 
proving himself to his brother as finding Claire. Then there was her 
earlier loss of control, and the raw, bruised feeling that even now 
lingered in her chest... Who was left to view the evidence with a 
dispassionate, assessing eye?

>From nowhere, an image popped into her head--she and Mulder 
lying on a moonlit beach, bodies entwined, making love under a 
backdrop of stars. The soothing hiss of waves meeting sand. The 
taste of salt and his kisses. And, most of all, the soul-deep 
sensation of peace and contentment she could see reflected on his 
face. Why did it seem those moments, too few and infrequent, 
were inevitably snatched from their grasp? 

Her conversation with Rosa echoed in her head...

*My mother says it's the strongest character that God gives the most 
challenges.*

*Your mama is a wise woman, chiquita. It would seem He has 
challenges for you both.*

Mulder's phone trilled, a jarring interruption to stillness and deep 
thoughts. It rang four times before she found it buried beneath a 
pile of faxes and scooped it up, breathless.

"Scully."

"Ah, the better half."

"Good morning to you too, Frohike."

"Where's my man Mulder?"

"Out for a run. Do you have the information he requested?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"We're still working on it, but I knew you'd be interested in what 
we've found so far."

"I'm listening."

"Like I said, we're still collecting data. But it looks like the events 
of the last few days are a repeat of something that happened six 
months ago. The circumstances appear nearly identical."

Scully's mouth worked impotently for a moment as her brain 
struggled to process what she'd just heard. "What exactly are you 
saying, Frohike? That there was another series of missing 
children?"

"Missing kids, documented UFO activity, the whole nine yards. 
The names and locations are different, but the rest is carbon copy." 
He paused. "With a twist."

"A twist?"

"They came back, Scully. Exactly three days after they 
disappeared, all the kids turned up."

Something in his voice put Scully on alert. "What do you mean, 
they 'turned up'?"

"We're still verifying newspaper articles and police reports. But 
from what we've seen so far, every kid was found very close to 
wherever they were when they went missing."

There it was again, the slightest edge of discomfort in Frohike's 
tone. Apprehension fluttered in Scully's stomach.

"Frohike, what is it you're not telling me?"

An even longer pause--she could almost see him consulting with 
Byers and Langly. When he did speak, he sounded almost 
apologetic.

"This is the part we're still working on, but...the kids...they're dead, 
Scully."

She folded into a chair, heart pounding and mouth dry. "All of 
them?"

"We've confirmed eight out of ten. No details on what killed them 
yet, only that they were in a comatose state when found. Most died 
within a week; one lived nearly three."

Scully closed her eyes against a heartbreakingly clear image of 
Claire's small face. "We'll need names, dates, locations..."

"That's actually the reason I called. One of the kids, Jessica 
Chapman, was from Boone, North Carolina. Thought you'd want 
to know."

"You were right. Fax us everything you've got on her, ASAP. And 
keep us posted on the rest." She drew a hand down her face; 
sighed. "Thank you, Frohike. You've been very helpful."

"No problemo." She was reaching for the disconnect button, 
certain he'd signed off, when he added, "Sorry we don't have better 
news. Tell Grey..."

"I will."

Scully had just replaced the phone on the table when the front door 
slammed. Mulder breezed into the kitchen a moment later, sweaty 
and flushed with cold air and exertion. He grabbed a bottle of 
water from the refrigerator, sent the cap spinning into the garbage 
can, and chugged half its contents. Lowering it with a sigh of 
contentment, he brushed the back of his hand across his lips and 
looked at her for the first time. The animation drained from his 
face as he studied hers.

"What is it, Scully?"

She told him Frohike's news, then followed him upstairs where the 
fax machine was already spitting out pages. They passed them 
back and forth in silence, stunned by the ramifications of what they 
were reading.

Jessica Chapman, age 9. Disappeared from the backyard of her 
home just after dusk on a hot summer evening. No physical 
evidence of her abductor. No witnesses. No phone calls or 
demands for ransom. Found three days later in a patch of tall grass 
at the edge of the property, unconscious. Dead five days after that 
from undisclosed trauma, presumably inflicted by her kidnapper. 
Picture of a vivacious little girl with a page boy haircut and an 
impish smile. A quote from her grief-stricken mother: "I don't 
understand. Things like this don't happen in Boone. We've always 
felt safe here."

Mulder pulled off his glasses and rubbed bloodshot eyes. "We've 
got to go to Boone. Today. Talk to the parents, the doctors. We 
have to find out what really happened. If the timetable holds..."

"How far is Boone?"

"Near the Tennessee border. I'd guess a three, maybe four hour 
drive." He picked up the photo but Scully could tell he was seeing 
the face of a different little girl. 

"We take this one step at a time, Mulder."

His gaze shifted from the photo to her face, something just short of 
anger lurking behind his eyes. "The implications are clear."

"Implications won't help Claire. We need facts."

One corner of his mouth curved upward in the parody of a smile. 
"In my experience the facts haven't helped a helluva lot either." He 
replaced his glasses and began gathering the pages into a neat pile. 
"You know it better than anyone, Scully. Identifying the cause of a 
nightmare is easy. Curing it...that's something else altogether."

The memory of Emily's flushed face and fever-bright eyes stole 
any rebuttal she might have attempted. She took the papers from 
Mulder's hands and gestured to the phone. "We'll need to spend the 
night in Boone. I'll pack us a bag; you give Grey a call."

"Ah..."

She made it to their bedroom before his voice stopped her. 
Looking over her shoulder, she found him leaning in the doorway, 
features arranged into a carefully passive mask.

"Why don't I pack the bag and you can let Grey know what's 
happening?"

Scully struggled to keep her own poker face. Like she couldn't see 
that one coming from a mile away. Turning, arms laced across her 
chest, she propped her weight on one hip.

"For two very good reasons, Mulder. Number one--the last time I 
let you pack our overnight bag, you forgot a few little...necessities. 
Like underwear. *My* underwear."

She knew he'd never be able to resist, and of course, he didn't. 
"See, now that's where we differ, babe. I don't consider underwear 
a necessity."

"Really? I don't seem to remember you going commando anytime 
in the recent past."

"You've been checking? Scully, have I stumbled upon an 
unfulfilled fantasy?"

"*Number two.*" She'd walked right into that one. "I'm not going to 
act as a go-between for you and your brother. I didn't like it in the 
sixth grade when Amy Milligan coerced me into asking Jack 
Pritchard if he liked her; I sure as hell don't intend to reprise the 
role as an adult."

"Fine, I'll do it." Mulder disappeared only to pop back a moment 
later. "And I just want to draw your attention to the fact that I'm 
forgoing the wealth of opportunities presented by that childhood 
tidbit."

His voice was light, the words teasing, yet Scully sensed a darker 
emotion beneath their surface. She tugged Mulder's duffel from 
beneath the bed and began filling it with a change of clothes, 
wishing for a suit and pumps to replace slacks and loafers. Bad 
enough she and Mulder had a dearth of clothing suitable for cold 
weather. If the case dragged on much longer, a shopping trip 
would be unavoidable.

She moved quickly and efficiently--if partnering with Mulder had 
taught her anything, it was how to pack a bag at a minute's notice. 
When she was satisfied she'd overlooked nothing, Scully zipped up 
the duffel and carried it downstairs. She left it on the tile by the 
front door and went in search of Mulder.

He was standing in front of the sliding glass doors, staring out at 
the backyard. Teeth gnawing his lower lip, cell phone clenched in 
his fist, it wasn't difficult to judge his state of mind. She walked 
over to stand beside him. Waiting.

"Guess we didn't do such a bad job building that shed after all. It's 
still standing, anyway."

She remained quiet, letting him talk. Sometimes Mulder had to 
take the long route to reach what he really wanted to say. He'd get 
there, eventually.

The silence stretched long between them before he spoke again. 
"His cell said he was unavailable. I had to leave a voicemail." 
Another long pause. "I was glad, Scully. I was glad I didn't have to 
talk to my own brother."

The lost quality to his voice bothered her less than the resignation. 
Scully tugged on his arm, pulling him over to sit in one of the 
kitchen chairs. She stepped between his knees, one hand brushing 
through his hair before coming to rest on his cheek.

"The days of running are over, Mulder. You're not alone anymore--
you have a family, people in your life who care about you. That 
means weathering the bad times, working through them even when 
it hurts like hell. Not shutting yourself off to numb the pain."

He jerked away from her touch, eyes flat and hard. "Being part of a 
family shouldn't mean baring your jugular and then handing over a 
knife."

"Nor should it mean hiding all sharp objects."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Scully kept her voice gentle but firm. "I think 
you experienced it first hand, after your sister was taken. Your 
mother, your father... They taught you to guard your heart, love. 
But now it's time to unlearn that lesson; it's time to take a risk. 
Grey's worth it--isn't he?"

Mulder looked away and his throat worked convulsively. "You 
don't understand." The words were rough and thick with anger and 
tears. "Losing Sam was almost more than I could bear. I felt I'd let 
her down, that it was my fault I lost her. I've finally--" he sucked in 
a shaky breath--"*finally* come to accept that what happened was 
beyond my control. 

"But, don't you see, Scully, if I lose Grey now it *will* be on my 
shoulders. A direct result of who I am. And I don't think..." He 
choked on the words, jaw tightly clenched. "I *know* that I can't 
open myself up to that. Better to pull back now and salvage what I 
can."

How could someone be so intuitive in some areas and blind in 
others? Scully laid her hand on the top of his head, not stroking or 
caressing, just connecting.

"Mulder, pulling back is the only thing that will cause you to lose 
Grey. This is a crossroads in your relationship, an opportunity for 
it to evolve into something deeper, stronger. Do you remember 
what Rosa said to you? Dark times will either pull souls together or 
tear them apart. *You* have to choose."

He stared at her for a disconcertingly long moment, then wrapped 
his arms around her and rested his cheek against her belly. "You 
make it sound simple."

She chuckled, petting the hair beneath her fingers. "It's an illusion. 
I'm sure you've noticed I'm not always the most open person 
myself. But I'm trying, Mulder. For you. For us."

He chuffed quietly, breath warming her stomach through the thin 
cotton of her shirt. "Guess we're both works in process." Another 
squeeze and he released her, standing up. "Bag all packed?"

"Packed and ready to go. I left it by the front door."

He glanced at his watch. "Let me grab a quick shower and we'll hit 
the road. If we make good time we should be able to get there 
before dark." He cocked an eyebrow at her as they left the kitchen. 
"Did you remember your underwear?"

Scully gave him a longsuffering look. "First thing in the bag."

"Damn."

She followed him up the stairs, hiding a smirk. He'd neglected to 
ask if she'd packed his.