Title: And The Band Played On
Author:  Whitewolf
E-mail: whitewolf@theonramp.net
Rating:  PG, although in movie land it would be PG-13, for 
adult language
in parts, talk of sex and sexual actions, although nothing 
graphic or even
remotely descriptive, and some mild violence.
Classification: SRA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Summary:  Mulder contracts a deadly disease, and Scully has 
to help him overcome it. 

Disclaimer:  Everyone you recognize most certainly doesn't 
belong to me, but, they do belong to CC, 1013, and FOX, as 
you all know.  If you happen to watch Days Of Our Lives, let 
me assure you that while the doctor in my story is named 
Mike Horton, it is not the character from the soap opera, I 
just couldn't think of a better name. :-)

Note:  The plot of this story may at first seem quite 
unfathomable, although I realize that most X-files rarely 
are.  Please try to keep an open mind. :-)

____________________________________________________________


Saturday, August 23, 1997

Fox Mulder was outside in the cool morning air jogging.  He 
ran a lot, mostly to calm down and to keep in shape.  Today, 
he was out jogging just to see the sun rise.  Mulder felt 
good, great, and it was just a good day to be alive.

His partner in the FBI, Dana Scully, had found out that she 
had cancer a few months ealier.  It hadn't effected her 
physically too much at first, but then she started getting 
weaker and sicker.  Until one day, she had an appitite 
again.  Then, her energy level picked back up.  After 
running tests, it had been determined that her cancer was no 
longer threatening her life. 

That bit of good news had been found out yesterday, and 
Mulder felt great. He had always had faith in her that she 
would pull through, and beat the cancer, however, she didn't 
always share his enthusiasm.  She had lost her faith in a 
lot of things, but Mulder and her mother, Magret Scully, had 
both pushed her, and essentially kept her alive.  With 
Scully's will power back, beating the cancer was like 
ordering through the drive-through. Easy.

The thing that Mulder liked the most though, was that their 
friendship had become stronger because of it.  Maybe Mulder 
wanted a little bit more, but for right now, they were as 
close as two people could get without persuing a more 
intimate relationship, and that was just fine for him.  They 
<did> things together now.  Things that most people did with 
their best friends. They went to movies, hung out, didn't 
always concentrate on work and the X-files.  

He knew what her favorite color was, he knew what her 
favorite flower was. He knew <her>.  Mulder didn't just know 
Scully anymore.  He knew Dana, the person behind Scully.  
And she knew Fox.  And the more they found out, the more 
they realized they never knew, and wanted to know.

A lot of people noticed the change in their relationship.  
Now, Mulder and Scully were sometimes actually easygoing, 
relaxed.  Not often, but more often than before.  Still, it 
did not affect their partnership.  Instead, it made it 
better.  Their solve rate, which had always been above 
Bureau standards, was now almost 90%.  That was phenomenal 
anyway, but in the X-files, it was impossible; until now.

But it wasn't just their friends and work associates that 
noticed.  It was others, like the foreboding Cancerman, and 
others in the Consortium.  They didn't like Mulder and 
Scully being any closer than they had been one bit. Frankly, 
they hadn't expected her to live through the cancer, and 
were hoping that it would tear the partnership apart.  Then 
Mulder would leave the FBI, and his work wouldn't become a 
crusade, like it would if they just killed him. 

So, Mulder, knowing all this, was having the best run of his 
life.  The air that was now burning his lungs felt great.  
Everything felt great. That was, until he got hit over the 
head.

Dana Scully rushed into the hospital at eight o'clock that 
morning wondering what Mulder had gotten himself into this 
time.  She didn't want to ever be inside a hospital again, 
but in the X-files, that was as improbable as aliens coming 
to earth just to see if the McDonald's Bigmac measured up to 
universal standards.  She used her badge to get into the 
examinaition room and found a half naked Mulder sitting on 
the exam table. "Okay, Mulder, what happened this time?"

Mulder looked over at his partner, who had obviously been 
pulled out of bed to come get him.  Her red hair was tied up 
in a ponytail, and her blue eyes still looked only slightly 
half awake.  He grinned wryly, "Scully, did you know that 
it's not even safe to go jogging in Washington D.C. anymore? 
I swear, not even Bill Clinton would be safe.  I was out 
running when some idiot knocked me upside the head.  I guess 
he was a mugger or something, but I wasn't carrying 
anything, so he didn't get any money off me."

"How long were you out?" Scully asked, looking at his chart. 
"I don't know, what time is it?"

Scully glanced at her watch, then looked back at the chart. 
 "7:30."

"Then I was out about two hours," Mulder said.

"Two hours!  He must of hit you hard," Scully went around to 
the back of Mulder, checking his head.

"Well, I've got one helluva headache, so I'd say he has a 
pretty good arm. There is one weird thing, though," Mulder 
frowned.

"Oh?  Such as..."

"I was jogging out by the reflection pool when I got knocked 
out, but when I regained conciousness, I was in an empty 
storage building two miles from there."

Scully frowned too.  "Did the doctor do a full examination?"

Mulder lightly grinned.  "Don't worry, I don't have any 
alien implants. It was just weird, that's all."

Scully relaxed visably.  "Well, Mulder, with the extent of 
that head injury, they'll probably want to keep you for a 
while, for observation's sake."  He looked grim, and she 
smiled a little.  "However," he perked up, "since I'm a 
doctor, I can probably get them to release you into my 
care."

Mulder looked at her anxiously.  "Please?" Scully laughed 
and went out to go find the doctor.  When she came back in, 
Mulder was fully dressed, and just about to walk out the 
door.

"You're a little optamistic, aren't you?" she addressed him.

"With you helping get me out, Scully?  I'm not just 
optamistic, I'm one hundred percent certain," he grinned.

She returned the grin.  "Come on, let's get out of here.  I 
don't like hospitals anymore."

"Good, I'm glad, I always hated 'em." Before she pulled out 
of the parking lot, Mulder turned to her.  "And, Scully..."

"Hmm?" she glanced over at him.

He gave her a serious smile, "Thanks for getting me out of 
one of the situations I hate... again."

Dana smiled back, "Anytime and everytime Mulder.  You know 
that."

His smile turned into a lopsided grin as he fastened his 
seatbelt.

Monday, February 16, 1998

When Fox Mulder walked into the office that morning, he got 
a concerned look from Dana Scully, who had beaten him to 
work.

"Are you alright, Mulder?" she asked, taking in his ruffled 
suit, tousled hair, and glazed hazel eyes.  "I didn't hear 
from you since we got back from the Brady case Thursday, and 
you look like hell."

"Gee, thanks, Scully," he muttered, flopping down in his 
desk chair.  "Why don't you say I need a hair cut and shave 
while you're at it."

She just stared at him, saying in one look, you're not 
getting out of this, so you might as well just tell me 
what's going on.

"Actually," he relented, "I've just had some rough nights.  
I've been waking up in cold sweats, and had a fever for the 
past couple of days."

Scully furrowed her brow.  "Oh?  Anything else?"

"Besides the horrendus mouth sores I've been getting?  No."

"How long have you had the sores?"

"About a week, Doctor."

She gave him a look and went on, "And the other symptoms?"

"They started up Thursday night.  I felt too sick to call 
you."

Scully nodded.  "You should get checked out, could be the 
flu."

"The flu?" Mulder whined.  "Damn, I thought I had made it 
through this cold season."

Scully went back to typing her report on her computer.  
"Take today off Mulder, go to the doctor."

"Why?  You're a doctor."

"Mulder, I'm not going to take a chance on diagnosing you 
wrong, and you ending up sicker because of it.  Go, my 
orders."

Mulder smiled and started for the office door.  I'll call 
you later, Scully."

She nodded her head and continued typing.  

Two hours later, her phone rang.  "Scully," she answered.

"You were right, the doctor said I had the flu."

Scully smiled into the phone.  "Ah, score one for me."

Over the line, she could hear Mulder chuckle.  "Anyway," he 
said, "I guess it would be best if we don't have contact for 
a couple of days.  I was told not to go to work."  At the 
last sentence, his tone became defeated.

Scully smiled again.  "Don't worry Mulder, you'll get 
better."

"Yeah, I know," he disconnected.

Scully shook her head and went back to typing.

Meanwhile, a man from somewhere in the FBI building smiled 
through his smoke.  Mulder and Scully's office and phones 
were bugged.  He turned to look at another man sitting 
across from him.

"You did a good job, friend," he said, his voice coming out 
in a slightly musical tone.

"Thank you, sir," the other man said.

The cigarette man took out his gun and pointed it at the 
man. "Unfortunantly, you cannot be trusted."

"Hey!  This wasn't part of the deal!  I get him sick, you 
give me the money, and it's over."

"You should learn to not trust the Devil.  Maybe this will 
stick with you in Hell," the Cancerman fired the gun and the 
bullet came out of the silencer, and in less that a minute, 
the man was dead on the floor.  The Cancerman picked up his 
phone, the smoke curling around him once again.

"Have someone come up here and take care of the body," he 
muttered, and hung up, smiling.  At last, Fox Mulder was 
finished.

Sunday, March 1, 1998

Scully took the elevator to Mulder's apartment, worried.  
After his flu, he had come back to work, but then after the 
next weekend, he hadn't been in for a week.  She had talked 
to him on the phone, but today, he hadn't answered, and his 
cell was out of service.  The week that he hadn't come to 
work, he had said that the flu had tried to hit him again, 
so he thought he should rest.

Scully was really worried about him.  Mulder didn't take off 
anymore without telling her.  It was another unspoken 
agreement that had come between them during her experience 
with cancer.

When Mulder didn't answer the door, Scully went ahead and 
used her key, and found Mulder curled up on his couch, 
holding his stomach and sweating heavily.

"Jesus, Mulder," she said, alarmed, and went and got a wet 
wash cloth, wiping off his face.

He was looking at her, but could hardly talk.

"Mulder, you're burning up, take off your clothes."

At this, he managed to quip, "Scully, are you coming on to 
me?"

"Mulder, this could be serious, take off your clothes."

"I... I would if I could," he muttered.

Scully helped him strip down to his boxers.  He was finally 
cooling down.

"What's wrong Mulder?" she asked when it appeared he could 
talk.

"I-I don't know.  I thought it was the flu, but if it is, 
it's worse than I've ever had."

"Can you tell me your symptoms?"

"Um, night sweats, fever, diarrhea, I've had trouble 
breathing at times, and I've gotten more of those mouth 
sores.  Sometimes I feel like I'm dehydrated, and other 
times, my stomach feels like someone is exploding atomic 
bombs inside me.  Oh, and lately I feel like I'm always 
tired," his face was contorted, and he was getting really 
worried.

So was Scully, but for a different reason.  "Mulder, do you 
have a scale or anything to weigh yourself here?"

"No, why?"

"Just... get dressed, I have a scale at my place."

"Okay," he stood up and turned his back to her.

"Mulder, stop, but don't turn around."

He smiled a little, trying to cover up his fear at her 
obvious worry, "What, are you going to shoot me, Scully?"

She didn't answer him, but walked over to him, rubbing a 
spot at his back. "Mulder, come with me into your bathroom, 
I want you to see something."

He frowned, confused, but complied, and turned to look at 
his back in the mirror.  "Shit," he said, addressing a dark 
brown spot on his skin.  "What is that?"

"It's a swollen lymph gland.  Get dressed, we're going to 
the hospital."

The drive to the hospital was a quite one.  Scully kept her 
eyes on the road, while Mulder kept throwing worried glances 
her way.

At the hospital, Mulder stood in the waiting room for a 
minute before following Scully.  She was talking to a doctor 
when he came up behind her.

"No, I know how to give the test myself."  It appeared they 
were arguing.

"Look, <Agent> Scully, you know I wouldn't be letting you do 
this if you weren't an FBI Agent <and> a doctor," the doctor 
told her.

"I know that <Doctor> Horton, this won't show up on your 
record, just let me have the testing kit, and an examination 
room.  Remember, Mike, you owe me a big one."

The doctor sighed.  "I know, Dana, I know.  Just... I don't 
owe you anything after this, because this could get both of 
us in trouble."

"I know that, just keep this off the record, and no one but 
me, you, Mulder, and the hospital lab techs will know 
anything.  And keep this off Mulder's hospital records, 
too."

"Keep what off my records?" he finally spoke up.

Scully wheeled around to face him.  "Nothing Mulder."

"Scully, talk to me."

"I just want to run a few tests to make sure that you're all 
right, and I don't want the Bureau to know, okay?"

Mulder barely accepted this answer, nodding his head.

"You can use that exam room, and I'll have a nurse bring in 
the kit. Tell me when you're done?" Mike said.

Scully nodded, leading Mulder into the exam room.  "Thanks 
again Mike."

"Sure Dana, but remember, no more after this.  Just because 
you got me into med school-"

She smiled, cutting him of, "I know MIke, don't worry, this 
is the last time, I promise."

Mike smiled his good-bye, "Alright, see ya later."

"See you Mike," the doctor walked off and Scully told Mulder 
to get on the scale.

Mulder's jaw almost fell off when he found that he had lost 
about fifteen pounds in two weeks.  Scully sighed, closing 
her eyes.

"I eat regular as always, and exercise the same, if not a 
little less. What's going on Scully?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Dammit, you have to have some idea, or you wouldn't be 
dodging my questions.  And I have to admit, you've gotten 
pretty good at that where my health is concerned."

"You're right, Mulder, I have an idea.  I have a few, but 
I'm <not sure>," she said in a tone that kept him from 
making a comeback.

A minute later, a nurse walked in, wheeling a small cart 
behind her with some various equipment.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do this?" asked the 
nurse.

"No, I'd prefer to do it myself.  Come in five to get the 
sample to run to the lab."

The nurse smiled before walking out the door.  "Sure thing 
Agent Scully."

"Roll up your sleeve Mulder," she instructed as she got a 
blood pressure cuff off the desk.  "I'm going to draw some 
blood."

"Is there a reason that you're doing all this yourself, 
Scully?" Mulder asked as she applied the cuff, then cleaned 
the skin over his vein.

"I just want to be discrete."

"Why?" he asked, wincing a little as she jabbed the needle 
into his arm and started to draw the blood.

"Dammit, Mulder, I have my reasons," she snapped, 
transfering the blood into sterile tubes marked with his 
name.

The nurse came in a couple of minutes later, as Scully was 
compressing the puncture on Mulder's vein and putting a 
Band-aid over it.

"The results should be ready in one to two weeks."

"Rush this one, make it one." Scully told the nurse, who was 
just a little taller than she.

"Okay, Agent Scully.  Do you want us to phone you or Agent 
Mulder?"

"Me, please," Scully said.

The nurse nodded and walked out, carrying the blood test 
with her.

"Okay, Scully, don't you think it's about time you tell me 
what the hell this is all about?"

"I'll tell you when I know, Mulder."

Conversation ended there, and the following week, there was 
hardly any conversation un-work related.

Monday, March 9, 1998

"Scully," she answered, picking up her office phone. "Yes, I 
did.  Yes, I am.  Look, I'm sitting, Mike, just tell me the 
results!" she snapped, causing Mulder to look up at her 
curiously.  He saw her face fall, and her eyes well up with 
tears.  "Okay, thanks Mike," she said, her voice soft with 
defeat.  "No, I'll be fine.  No, I haven't.  Yes, I'll tell 
him.  I don't know when!  Okay, thanks again, Mike.  Bye."  
She hung up and looked over at Mulder, one tear falling.

"Scully?" he questioned, his brow furrowed, worried.

"Um, Mulder, after you get off today, come over to my place. 
 Okay?  I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"Scully, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, gathering her things and hurrying out 
the door. Mulder wasn't frightened by this, and her crying 
didn't scare him either, nor the phone call.  What embedded 
fear deep inside of Fox Mulder was the fact that when Scully 
had looked up at him, he didn't see concern for him, or hurt 
for him, he saw pity, and fear, and that scared him more 
than anything.

Later that day, Mulder showed up on Scully's front door, and 
she took him in.  When the door was closed, she instantly 
pulled him into a tight hug. Confused, he wrapped his arms 
around her.

"Hey," he breathed into her hair.  "What's wrong?"

"We haven't had enough of these, you know that Mulder?"

"What, hugs?"

"Yeah."

He smiled a little.  "Well, we got all the time in the 
world, you know."

She pulled away from him.  "Come sit down.  Do you want 
anything to drink?"

"No, that's alright."  He walked into her living room, 
sitting down on her couch.  Scully sat down at the other 
sied, and faced him.  He flickered over her features.  
Un-like him, she was already changed out of her work attire, 
in a too large tee-shirt and jeans.  On her, it was 
adorable.  But her face was weary, like she hadn't slept 
much in the past week.

"Okay, Mulder, remember the test I had you take?"

He shook his head up and down, yes.

"Alright, I had you take that test because you were having 
all those symptoms.  At first, everyone thought it was the 
flu, but thar wouldn't explain the mouth sores, or the 
weight loss, or, more importantly, the swollen lymph 
glands."

"Yeah, Scully, I've noticed another one of those on my upper 
left arm..."

"Right," she said, nodding her head.  "Well... Fox," he 
looked up her sharply, catching her gaze.  This must really 
be serious.  "They... they are all signs of the progression 
of...  H... HIV."

His face paled... HIV... His mind was screaming, 
ohmygodohmygodnononononotmenotme.  His voice, despite the 
inner turmoil, came out surprisingly calm.  "Scully, I don't 
have HIV, it didn't show up on my last blood test."

"I know that Mulder.  The test that I gave you last week 
proved positive, and with you're recent bout with flu... and 
because of your other symptoms..."she hesitated.

"What are you trying to say, Scully?"

"I"m saying that the hospital, and I, have determined that 
it's progressed into AIDS."  She was holding his hand now, 
her grip tight, and he was grateful for that support, 
because if it hadn't been there, he felt like he would just 
fall, like a rope breaking while rock climbing.

"No, Dana, not me," he shook his head.  "I haven't even 
fucking had sex in... months, and I never have unprotected 
sex.  I can't have AIDS."

"Mulder, it's not nessicarily unprotected sexual intercourse 
that can give you AIDS, it's-"

"I know how you can contract it, Scully!  I've watched the 
biographies, the programs!  I don't use contaminated 
needles, I don't use drugs, I haven't had a blood 
transfusion since I was shot in my leg, and my mother 
doesn't have HIV.  I can't have it!"  His voice, now barely 
controlled rage.

"Mulder, the test you were given was the Western Blot Test. 
 That is the most recent and the best test avaible.  It's 
nearly one hundred percent accurate.  They've done the blood 
work at the hospital.  I trust Mike, and the technicians he 
had do the tests."

Mulder was still shaking his head.

"Fox, look, just because you have HIV doesn't mean you have 
AIDS, but in your case it's different.  AIDS hardly ever 
even appears in your system for at least six months.  What 
happened to you six months ago?"

"Shit, the mugging..." his face went two shades paler than 
before.

Scully nodded her head, before she spoke again, her face 
contorting slightly with the physical efforts to keep under 
under control.  "I don't think this was a random mugging.  I 
more than likely contracted my cancer after I was abducted, 
but they couldn't take you for that long a time.  It would 
be traced directly back to the Consortium, but not now.  
Now, they get some guy to knock you out, and more than 
likely, give you a blood transfer through a hypodermic 
needle, or to some effect of that.  I can't be sure how they 
knew you would contract HIV or AIDS, or that it would hit 
you so hard, but they did."

Mulder looked up at her, his gaze catching hers. 

"Why didn't you tell me, Scully?  Why didn't you fucking 
tell me when you decided to give me that test?" his voice 
was rising, not in anger, but pain.  He ran a hand through 
his hair and held the side of his face.  "I fucking trusted 
you to tell me something like this!  I had my fucking 
rights!"

Scully took a deep breath and released it, trying to keep 
calm, but her voice betrayed her as it cracked slightly when 
she spoke.  "I know, Mulder, I know.  I'm sorry.  I just 
didn't want to get you worked up, because it could have just 
as easily been a bad case of the flu.  Fox, you have to 
believe me when I say that I never thought it was possible, 
either."

"I have AIDS?" he asked, his voice almost questioning in 
tone, but he knew.  He knew for sure now, because it was 
Scully telling him, Scully clutching his hand, Scully 
calling him Fox.

He looked over at her, and saw no lying, no joking, in her 
eyes, only sadness and fear.  Scully saw him about to break 
down, and enveloped him, hugging him tightly.  She knew 
Mulder would take this outwardly harder than she had her 
cancer, because he simply was more outwardly sensitive in a 
lot of aspects.  

He allowed himself to cry in her arms.  This was worse than 
her cancer, for her there were treatments, cures.  For her, 
there were family and friends.  For her, there was hope.

Fox Mulder knew he didn't have anyone or any hope, only Dana 
Scully, and he latched on to her, his lifeline.  This was 
too painful for him to undergo alone, and at least he knew 
she would be there for him.

Scully felt his breathing start to return to normal, and 
then eventually slow down, and she knew he was asleep, not 
because he wanted to be, but from sheer exhaustion.  She 
laid both him and herself down on the couch, and fell asleep 
there with him.

Tuesday, March 10, 1998

When Fox Mulder awoke that morning, he found that instead of 
being on his couch, he was on Dana Scully's couch.  For a 
moment, confusion flooded his sleep hazed mind.  Then, the 
last day's events came flooding back to him, like a demon, 
coming out of the night.  

As much as his mortallity was scaring him right now, 
something else terrified him, and that was the fact that 
although Dana had let him fall asleep in her arms, she 
wasn't there right now.  That was when relief came flooding 
back through the sense of smell and aroma of coffee.  At 
least she hadn't left him.  

Scully came walking into her living room and smiled at him 
softly. "Morning Mulder.  How are you?"

Mulder looked at her greatfully, knowing that she was trying 
to stay off the subject of his... of... Christ, he couldn't 
even say the name in his head.  "I'm fi-... No, I'm not 
fine, Dana, I'm scared."

She looked at him, thinking that for all the world, he 
looked like a little boy who had just lost his best friend. 
 Scully walked over to the couch, sitting down next to him, 
and took his hand in hers, just as she had done the night 
before.  "I know, Fox... I'm afraid too."

There was a moment of silence that passed between them, and 
to break any possible tension, Scully spoke up again.  "I, 
uh, called Skinner, and requested the rest of the week off 
for me and you.  I said you were sick and that I was just 
tired."

Mulder nodded.  "Thank you."  He looked up at her then, 
catching her gaze so she couldn't lie to him, because he 
knew that if provided the opening, on his next question, she 
would.  "How long can I expect to live?"

She held his stare, "Well, most AIDS patients live anywhere 
from half a year to two years..."

Mulder sensed the catch.  "But..."

"But I don't believe that this is the case for you. Even 
Mike is only giving you four to five months, and this is 
because it's hit you so hard. Mulder, I have reason to 
believe that they gave this to you directly through a blood 
transfusion of sorts.  That's probably why you were so wiped 
after the mugging.  We have to tell-"

"No!" he interrupted her sharply.

"Mulder, why not?"

"Scully, if one person knows, then everyone will know, and I 
can't let that happen.  I'll always be remembered as Spooky 
Mulder, but I don't want to die as a drug user, or someone 
who frequently has unprotected sex with any number of women. 
 Not only will this project on to me, but on to my mother, 
my sister, you..."

"Skinner has to know, and so will half the others in the FBI 
that have to take a look at your medical records."

"I thought you said that this would be kept off the record."

"Mulder, they can't keep <this> off the record.  That would 
be like saying Sam was never taken from you," she said, 
trying to get her point across.

"Why the hell not!?"

"Because Mulder, you have AIDS!  You can't give blood 
anymore, you have to get treatments, the doctor that 
unwittingly tries to save you by sticking his hand in your 
blood could get infected, these people have to know these 
things, Mulder."

"So what should I do!" he yelled, his fear evident in his 
voice.  "Should I go out there with some fucking peice of 
paper stamped to my head proclaiming I'm an AIDS victim?  Is 
that what you want?"

"Dammit Mulder, that is not what I want and you know it!  
Mulder, there is only one thing I want."

"Yeah, what is that?"

"I don't want you to die before you're dead.  I don't want 
you to die at all."

They both quieted.  When Mulder finally spoke, his voice was 
below his normal speaking level.  "You said I have to get 
treatments. I thought AIDS wasn't treatable."

She took a deep breath and let it out.  "Technically, it's 
not, but they do have certan treatments that can prolong 
your life."

"Such as?"

"Well, AIDS is not the direct killer.  Most AIDS patients 
die from certain opportunistic illnesses, so scientists 
focused on developing drugs which may delay the onset of 
these illnesses.  You will probably go on some type of one 
of the drugs, more than likely azidothymidine, called AZT, 
or didanosine, called DDL.  There are some other drugs, but 
these two are the most common."

Mulder nodded his head.  "So, why are you guys giving me 
less time than other A-... people with this disease?"

"Because you've already come down with the flu, and that is 
one of many opportunistic illnesses."

"I beat that virus."

Scully sighed.  She wished that he could see that she was 
dying with him. "Mulder, it left you extremely weak, you 
could contract pneumonia, which is the leading cause of 
death among AIDS patients, and there are esophagus yeast 
infections which are also common, that could leave you 
dehydrated and cause weight loss.  You could get Kaposi's 
sarcoma, or Cytomegalovirus..." she trailed off, looking up 
at him.

"Scully, don't use all of those medical terms on me, I know 
what Kaposi's sarcoma is, but Cytomegalovirus..."  He looked 
confused, afraid, hundreds of emotions swirling in his eyes.

"It's an eye infection, that most likely would eventually 
cause blindness, but it is rare-"

"Scully, I don't want you to try and comfort me, I just want 
to know what I'm up against.  Now, I'm going to ask you 
this, and I want a straight answer from you...  Scully, what 
would you, as a doctor, tell me about my chances for living 
longer than six months were?"

Scully's eyes widened and she looked deep into his eyes, as 
if trying to penetrate his soul.  "Mulder... In all 
seriousness, I would be generous to give you 30/70 odds."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed.  Scully was just about 
to say something else when her phone rang.  "Scully.  Yes 
sir.  Sir, I wanted to tell you when I felt-" she was cut 
off.  "No sir.  No sir.  Right away, sir."  She hung up.  
"Mulder, that was Skinner.  He wants us in his office ASAP."

"I don't know if I can do this, Scully."

She held out her hand.  "No, you can't.  But, we... We can."

He looked at the out stretched hand, back at her, and then 
her hand again, and entwined his fingers with hers.  "Thank 
you Dana, for everything."

"As I said before partner, anytime and everytime." They 
walked out the door, together.	

Skinner was angry.  No, he was seething.  He couldn't 
believe that his agents would keep something like this from 
him.  Even when Scully had gotten her cancer, he had known 
about it, but he had to find out about Mulder and his 
disease from not only hospital records, but Cancerman.  He 
had a right to know, dammit!  He had never directly done 
anything to Mulder and Scully that hadn't come straight from 
the top, and he'd even done some unorthodox things for them. 
 

And still, they didn't even trust him as to keep their 
medical records confidential.  

There was a knock at his door.  He didn't even have to ask 
to know who it was.  "It's open."

In strode Mulder and Scully, his rouge agents, his 
unorthodox agents... his best agents.

"Sit down," he said, still looking some paper work on his 
desk.  When he finally looked up at them he said, "I thought 
I told you to tell <Mulder> to come, Agent Scully."

She matched his stare, "Sir, with all due respect, I don't 
care <who> you asked for, if it involves Mulder, it involves 
me."

Skinner had to say, he was a little surprised.  At the 
beginning of their partnership, they were just that, 
partners.  Not anymore, obviously.  They were more than 
that.  He let it drop, knowing that he wouldn't win an 
arguement with Dana Scully at this point.  "Okay, I want to 
know why the hell I wasn't told about Mulder contracting 
HIV."

Scully spoke once more.  "Sir, we believed at the time that 
this was the best course of action.  We didn't even know 
until yesterday that he did indeed have HIV, so instead of 
you asking another question, can I ask you what gives you 
the right to go snooping around in Agent Mulder's hospital 
records after me calling us both in for a couple of days?"

Skinner was outraged now.  "What gives <you> the right, 
Agent Scully, to question my authority?"

Her voice now matched his in pitch.  "What gives me the 
right?  I already have it!  Can you honestly tell me that 
you have not talked to that chainsmoking bastard in the past 
fourty eight hours?"

He looked down, silenced for the first time in his career.

"Sir?" Mulder said, speaking up.  "Can you please tell me 
what you called us in for, because if it was just to ream us 
out-"

"No, Agent Mulder.  I wanted to tell you that I'm going to 
have to tell the staff doctors and some of the technicians 
here at the Buearu about your... condition.  They need to be 
notified, and I wanted to make sure you knew."

"Thank you sir, is that all?" Mulder asked.  He had a 
feeling that he should take over talking to Skinner, or else 
Scully might find herself out of a job for assult and 
battery.  

"Yes, it is.  You're dismissed."

The two agents were almost out the door when Skinner stopped 
them.  They turned and looked at him.  "Agent Mulder, I'm 
sorry, truly sorry."

Mulder nodded and Scully, still angry, just clenched her 
jaw.  As they walked out, Skinner could barely hear Scully 
mutter, "Hollow words for a hollow man."

They closed the door and Skinner rocked back in his chair, 
taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, 
all the while wondering where he had lost his compassion.  
That was when it hit him.  His compassion had never 
dissapeared, just been doused by authority.  Well, he made 
his silent vow, not again, not anymore.

Sunday, April 5th, 1998

Hours had turned into days had turned into weeks.  Mulder 
decided to get on the drugs and light treatments for his 
disease.  He still found it almost impossible to outwardly 
say he had AIDS.  He and Scully spent more time than ever 
with each other now.  It was almost a twenty-four hour a day 
thing.  He was in all senses, living with her.  The only way 
he could ever get away from his demons of the night was to 
fall asleep right beside her, and while the relationship was 
still one-hundred percent platonic, he still slept in her 
bed at night, his body spooning hers.

In a way, they both found this comforting, this new level in 
their relationship.  It was now an unbreakable bond.  

They never talked about Mulder's mortality.  It was too 
uncomfortable for both of them, to think about him dying.  

So, this evening, they were both relaxing.  They had come 
off a horrendous load of paperwork, that had them both fully 
frustrated.  Despite everything, they wanted to be out on 
the field.  Mulder was sitting on the couch with Scully, his 
arm causually draped around her; physical contact was now 
almost constant as well in the ever changing relationship.  
They were watching some movie that neither one was really 
listening to, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

Dana changed her position slightly, her elbow lightly 
grazing Fox's lower ribs.

He jumped slightly.  "Jeeze Scully, don't do that." A grin 
formed on Dana's mouth.  "Why, Mulder?  Are you a little," 
she repeated the action, and to her delight, produced the 
same reaction, "ticklish maybe?"  Her grin grew a little 
wider.

Fox tried to be serious, although he could feel his own lips 
quirking in a smile, "No, not at all Dr. Scully."

"Really?" She muttered, and lightly trailed her fingers over 
the entire side of his ribcage, sending him squirming.  
"Hmm, I think you need a second opinion on that."  

He looked down at her, and decided to return the game, 
hitting the ball back on her court.  "I think..." he said, 
grazing his own fingers over her lower ribs, "that we could 
give the same analysis to you."

She shivered, and giggled a little from the sensation.  

The game was on, and they both started trying to get at each 
other, both laughing and giggling through the whole 
experiance, finally pulling each other into a hug, both out 
of breath.

Their breathing soon returned to normal, but they found that 
neither one was willing to let go.

It was Mulder who broke the scilence, but he never finished 
his thought. "Dana, I..."

She looked up at him, her eyes concentrating on his, and he 
found that he was lost, unable to speak, and so, he tried to 
express himself without words, and the only way he could 
acheive this was to slowly lower his head to hers, and 
softly press his lips to her own.  And she responded ever so 
lightly back.

The first kiss was chaste, innocent...  The second, was not.

He pulled back, and she pressed her lips back up against 
his, and they both demanded to deepen the kiss, and they 
both complied.  This one lasted longer, and he lowered her 
back to the couch, moving over the top of her.  

That was when the warning signals flew off in his head.  He 
pulled back quickly, and looked down at her, his posture all 
that of a deer caught in headlights.

"Scully?  Oh... Jesus... I-I-I.... I can't... I'm... I..." 
he could do nothing but stutter, which was more than she 
could manage at the time.  He flew up off the couch, 
standing straight upright.  "We just... Jesus, um.... I-I 
need to... go..."  He ran to the door, throwing on a light 
jacket.

She was finally able to speak as he was opening the door.  
"Mulder?" was all she could manage.

"Look, Da- Scully, I'm sorry, but I can't do this, not to 
me, and especially not to you.  It's not fair, I can't love 
you the way I want to, I can't... I can't do anything.  I 
can't live," his voice, which had been rising was now soft, 
scared, "I-I can't live."  He ran out the door.

The next week he called in sick, and then, when he did come 
back, he put so much distance between them that she didn't 
know how to break through. The wall this time was greater 
than ever, and the partnership was worse than the worst it 
had ever been.  There was no more physical contact, no more 
hands at the back to guide, no more subtle and comforting 
arm touches. He didn't call her Dana and she didn't call him 
Fox.  Their solve rate dropped below eighty, then below 
seventy.  

Somewhere in the FBI Building, a dark man took a long drag 
off his cigarrette.  He had to admit, it had taken longer 
than expected, but Fox Mulder was beyond all help now.  It 
was only a matter of time.  He smiled and took another long 
drag, finishing off the cigarrette.

Sunday, June 21, 1998

Mulder hadn't come into the office for the last week, and 
hadn't contacted her, either.  Dana was worried.  For all 
she knew, he was lying dead in a gutter.  She needed someone 
to talk to, and so she called Mike, the doctor, and he 
agreed to have lunch with her that day.

"Hi Mike," she said, sitting down in the small diner they 
had chosen. 

"Hello, Dana," he smiled.  "So, to what do I owe this 
pleasure?"

"I just wanted a friend to talk to, to be with," she 
admitted.

"Oh, what's up?"

"Well, it's just that I haven't seen or heard from Mulder 
for a week, and I have to say, I'm getting worried."

At this, Mike practically choked on his drink. 

"Mike?"

"Dana, he didn't tell you?" he asked, the surprise evident 
in his voice.

"Tell me what?"

"Mulder admitted himself to the hospital a week ago. He said 
that he didn't think he could handle the stress of the job 
and his life anymore, and thought he would be better off."

"Mike, can you give me his room number?"

"203."

"Thanks, I'm sorry I'm cutting this short."

"No prob, Dana, just be careful, I don't want you wheeled in 
on a gurney because you did something stupid on the road 
after driving off in a mad rush."

She smiled a little, "Don't worry Mike, I'm not going to 
kill myself." The thought running through her mind was, I'm 
already dying.

He heard the knock on the door of his private room and 
didn't acknowledge it.  If it was a nurse, she would come 
in, if it was Skinner, he would come in.  So, when the door 
opened, Fox Mulder just continued to stare out the window 
out of his lifeless eyes.  

Scully entered his room, and stood there, appraising him.  
He had lost a lot more weight, and looked extremely sick.  
He couldn't weigh more than 145 now, and for his height, 
that was almost dead.  When he didn't even acknowledge her 
presence, she muttered quietly, with barely contained anger, 
"Why didn't you tell me?"

Mulder's head whipped around to confront her.  "Oh Jesus," 
he broke her gaze, ashamed.  "Scully, I couldn't, because I 
knew you wouldn't let me.  I don't want you to watch me 
die."

"So that's it?" she shut the door.  "You're just giving up?"

"There is nothing left to give up, I was already marked for 
death."

"Dammit Mulder, so I was I!  I have been gentle with you, 
understanding, caring, loving, and all the while, you just 
slipped further and further out of grasp, and now, you've 
given up completely.  Well, dammit Mulder, I can't accept 
that!"

"You'll have to Dana, I'm a dead man, it's just a matter of 
time."

"Jesus Mulder you can fight this thing, you can live!"

He looked up at her, coldly, "Yeah, and who the hell would 
want me too?  I doubt anyone would notice if I even died 
except for the orderlies!"

"How can you say that!"  Her tone got quieter.  "Can't you 
see that if you die, half of me dies too?  Can't you see 
that?"

His normally beautiful hazel eyes, always filled with life, 
stared back at her, still a lifeless grey.  

Dana closed her eyes.  <Dammit, if he's not going to give in 
to gentle coaxing, I guess I'll just have to scare the hell 
out of him.>

She reached around her back and pulled out her 9 millimeter. 
 

"Dana, what are you doing?" 

"Fox, you don't seem to be understanding that if you die, so 
do I, so I guess I'll just end my suffering right here and 
now, at least the mess will be easy to clean up."  She 
raised her gun to her head, putting the barrel into her 
mouth.

Finally, Fox's eyes turned color, the fear evident. "Dana, 
no!  Don't do this Dana!  I can't live without you!"

"Mulder," she said around the barrel of the gun, still in 
her mouth, "you've already decided to die, so why do you 
need to live? I can't live without you either, and I sure as 
hell don't want to go after you, so fuck this life.  See ya 
in the after life Agent Mulder."  She shoved the barrel a 
little deeper, her finger visably tightening.  

"Dana!  You can't kill yourself for me!  Please!"

She glanced at him, and tightened her finger further on the 
gun, she wanted to make sure this was very slow.

Mulder rolled off the bed onto his knees, pleading. "You 
can't die!  I won't go if it means taking you with me!  
Please, Dana, I'm going to live," he said the last part 
softer. 

She looked down at him.  "What was that?" her words slightly 
distorted from the gun.

This time, he said it with conviction, and his eyes held 
honesty that had not been there before.  Dana knew he wasn't 
lying.  She removed her gun, and set it down by the table on 
his bed, enveloping him in a hard hug. "Thank you, Fox.  You 
have to live, you hear me?  You've got a promise to keep 
now."

His eyes, which had been streaming out tears when she had 
almost killed herself, found renewed tears in his last 
realization.  <I love Dana Katherine Scully.>  He hugged her 
back full force.  How could he have not noticed it.  The 
time he was taking care of her, and then she him, he was 
falling in love with her.

At the same time, her own thoughts were pretty much telling 
her the same thing.  Only, in her thoughts was also the 
constant, <He's going to live.> She knew he would now.  He 
had said it, had <promised> her he would.

He raised to his feet and she stood up with him.  "I'll be 
right back, Mulder, I'm thirsty, and I'm still tasting gun 
oil."  They both smiled, and she walked out to get her 
beverage, probably coffee.  He walked over to the table at 
his bedside, and on impulse, pulled the clip out of her gun, 
only then noticing that the clip was empty.  She had known 
all along he wouldn't let her shoot herself.

Mulder smiled, then grinned, then laughed.  He was in love, 
and he was going to live.

Friday, September 25, 1998

In the weeks since the episode at the hospital, Mulder's 
immune system had miracuosly recovered fully, and all of his 
symtoms of having AIDS had gradually disappered.  He had 
once again "moved in" to Dana's apartment, and things were 
pretty much back to the way they had been before his 
encounter with AIDS.  He was no longer just Agent Mulder, 
barely earning the title, but he was Fox Mulder, living up 
to both names.  Their partnership had been repaired, and 
their solve rate was back in the nineties.  

Earlier that week, Skinner had called them into his office, 
wanting to know what was going on, and Mulder had simply 
grasped Dana's hand, then looked Skinner straight in the eye 
and said "I'm going to live, sir, I had better start acting 
like it."  Then both agents had gotten up and sauntered out 
of his office without being dismissed. Skinner had looked at 
his closed door in disbelief.  This couldn't be the same 
Mulder that had told him he was going to take an indefinite 
leave of absence while receiving treatments at the hospital. 

The Cancerman was also stunned.  It wasn't supposed to 
happen like this, they weren't suppossed to fight and come 
out all the better for it.  His superiors were going to kill 
him; this had been his last chance.  Later that day, he had 
been found, dead, in his office.  The autopsy proved that he 
had died of an accelerated heart rate, most likely, a heart 
attack had ensued.

As for Mulder and Scully's personal relationship, it was the 
deepest and fullest it had ever been. And while there had 
been no repeats of the kiss, they acted like they were 
dating, or married.  They didn't care who saw them acting 
like best friends, or even if anyone who saw them assumed 
they were in a relationship, because in a way, they were.  
They were still professional, and as tough as ever; Mulder 
as crazy as before, and Scully still the strong skeptic.  
But now, they would walk into the FBI Building, Mulder's arm 
causually slung over her shoulders, or them holding hands, 
talking and joking about various things, more than likely, 
their latest case.  

The thing was, no one was genuinely surprised.   Everyone 
took it as a normal occurence, certainly more normal than 
any X-file.

Today, Mulder walked into the hospital, firmly holding 
Scully's hand, to get the results of his latest bloodwork.  
Mike stepped up to them when they got to the lab counter.  

"Mulder, Dana, come with me, I did the bloodwork, and would 
like to talk to both of you in my private office," he was 
smiling, and looking quite... thrilled, or maybe astonished.

Fox and Dana looked curiously at each other, and followed 
him into his office.

"Please, sit down."  They did as told, and he proceded.  
"Now, there have been a few documented cases in which some 
retroviruses have completely disappeared out of the body.  
Most doctors will even call these instances miracles.  The 
individuals that these occurences-"

"Mike," Dana said, "please get to the point.  I hate to be 
blunt, but Mulder and I do have to go to work."

"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, anyway, we did multiple tests on Mulder 
and as you know, we asked him back for more blood samples.  
I'm sure this worried you both, but the thing is, we got 
more samples so we could be sure the tests were true, and it 
turns out, they were.  Agent Mulder, you no longer have any 
trace of the HIV or AIDS virus left in your system."

Both agents stared at him, exasperated. Mulder said, 
"You-you can't be serious.  I-I mean, this just... It 
doesn't happen, Doctor."

Mike laughed fully.  "Oh, I can assure you, it does, and it 
is... to you."

Dana, taking on the role of the scientist, asked him, "Will 
there be a reoccurance of the virus?"

Mike shook his head, "It's never happened in documented 
history.  Mulder, I can assure you, there is no more danger 
of you passing the virus on, because you don't have it any 
more.  Still practice safe sex," he said jokingly, "but... 
you don't have HIV <or> AIDS.  Not anymore."

Mulder laughed, breaking out in a grin, and turned to Dana. 
 She was laughing to, and they hugged each other strongly.  
Mike smiled, and walked out of the office unnoticed.  

"I'm gonna live!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.

She was crying too.  "Yeah, Fox.  <We're> going to live."

"Yes, we are!"  He proceded to break the contact, and then 
fell to his knees as he had in what seemed so long ago in 
that hospital room and brandished a box.  "Dana Katherine 
Scully, marry me." 
____________________________________________________________





Epilogue

Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully were united in 
holy matrimony two months later.  The wedding was 
traditional, although not huge.  The entire Scully family 
and what was left of the Mulder family attened, including 
most of the D.C. branch of the Buearu.  Walter Skinner 
walked Dana down the aisle.  

The vows they said were anything but traditional, however, 
as rarely is in the X-files universe.  They pledged their 
vows as follows:

Fox: You stood by me when everyone else let me down.  You 
were my truth, my light, and my love.  I can't remember my 
life without you in it, and I don't think that now, I could 
if I had to.  I feel as if we are two souls, intwined, and 
just now finally finding each other.  We've walked through 
shadows, hurt, pain, and now, we unite ourselves through 
love.  Dana, I will live.

Dana: You were my shoulder to cry on, even when I insisted 
that I didn't need you.  I am now only beginning to realize 
that I've always needed you, from the day I was born.  You 
are my other half.  You were my strength, but I found that 
you had also become my weakness as well.  I relied on your 
passions and your beleifs, and then I finally realized, we 
were each other's own passion, our light.  Fox, I will live.

The next words were spoken by both of them, "We will live."

When they finally kissed at the end of the ceremony, they 
were given a standing ovation, and the applause drowned out 
everything.  Everything except the love.

It is now 2003, and Dana and Fox have been married over four 
years.  The search for Samantha and the ever elusive truth 
still continues, and Dana and Fox have not had children of 
their own, although they are seriously considering it.  

The truth <is> out there, and now, it is closer than ever to 
being found.

End. 
____________________________________________________________ 
________________







Note:  AIDS is a very serious virus, and is extremely hard 
for the victims of it to cope with.  I've seen friends taken 
down by this retrovirus, and America and the World are now 
only beginning to gain ground on this virus that seems to be 
taking down people quickly one by one. AIDS is not just 
found in gay people, or transmitted by sexual intercourse, 
as many seem to believe.  Yes, AIDS is transmitted through 
any kind of intercourse and sometimes even oral sex, it is 
also transmitted through an AIDS infected blood transfusion, 
or something such as a contaminated hypodermic needle, but 
it isn't transmitted through regular physical contact, or 
the air we breath. If a friend has AIDS, don't be afraid to 
give them a possibly needed hug, or hand hold, it won't kill 
you. Also, the facts used in this story have been taken from 
various research journals such as JAMA (Journal of the 
American Medical Association).  The treatments and 
information described is based on early and late 1996 
information as I did not have more current reseach 
information available. Thank you.

By, 
White Wolf.

"And if I have built this fortress around your heart
 Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
 Then let me build a bridge
 For I cannot fill the chasm." -
 From Fortress Around Your Heart, 
 By Sting from the album-
 The Dream of The Blue Turtles 	




Title: And The Band Played On
Author:  Whitewolf
E-mail: whitewolf@theonramp.net
Rating:  PG, although in movie land it would be PG-13, for 
adult language
in parts, talk of sex and sexual actions, although nothing 
graphic or even
remotely descriptive, and some mild violence.
Classification: SRA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Summary:  Mulder contracts a deadly disease, and Scully has 
to help him overcome it. 

Disclaimer:  Everyone you recognize most certainly doesn't 
belong to me, but, they do belong to CC, 1013, and FOX, as 
you all know.  If you happen to watch Days Of Our Lives, let 
me assure you that while the doctor in my story is named 
Mike Horton, it is not the character from the soap opera, I 
just couldn't think of a better name. :-)

Note:  The plot of this story may at first seem quite 
unfathomable, although I realize that most X-files rarely 
are.  Please try to keep an open mind. :-)

____________________________________________________________


Saturday, August 23, 1997

Fox Mulder was outside in the cool morning air jogging.  He 
ran a lot, mostly to calm down and to keep in shape.  Today, 
he was out jogging just to see the sun rise.  Mulder felt 
good, great, and it was just a good day to be alive.

His partner in the FBI, Dana Scully, had found out that she 
had cancer a few months ealier.  It hadn't effected her 
physically too much at first, but then she started getting 
weaker and sicker.  Until one day, she had an appitite 
again.  Then, her energy level picked back up.  After 
running tests, it had been determined that her cancer was no 
longer threatening her life. 

That bit of good news had been found out yesterday, and 
Mulder felt great. He had always had faith in her that she 
would pull through, and beat the cancer, however, she didn't 
always share his enthusiasm.  She had lost her faith in a 
lot of things, but Mulder and her mother, Magret Scully, had 
both pushed her, and essentially kept her alive.  With 
Scully's will power back, beating the cancer was like 
ordering through the drive-through. Easy.

The thing that Mulder liked the most though, was that their 
friendship had become stronger because of it.  Maybe Mulder 
wanted a little bit more, but for right now, they were as 
close as two people could get without persuing a more 
intimate relationship, and that was just fine for him.  They 
<did> things together now.  Things that most people did with 
their best friends. They went to movies, hung out, didn't 
always concentrate on work and the X-files.  

He knew what her favorite color was, he knew what her 
favorite flower was. He knew <her>.  Mulder didn't just know 
Scully anymore.  He knew Dana, the person behind Scully.  
And she knew Fox.  And the more they found out, the more 
they realized they never knew, and wanted to know.

A lot of people noticed the change in their relationship.  
Now, Mulder and Scully were sometimes actually easygoing, 
relaxed.  Not often, but more often than before.  Still, it 
did not affect their partnership.  Instead, it made it 
better.  Their solve rate, which had always been above 
Bureau standards, was now almost 90%.  That was phenomenal 
anyway, but in the X-files, it was impossible; until now.

But it wasn't just their friends and work associates that 
noticed.  It was others, like the foreboding Cancerman, and 
others in the Consortium.  They didn't like Mulder and 
Scully being any closer than they had been one bit. Frankly, 
they hadn't expected her to live through the cancer, and 
were hoping that it would tear the partnership apart.  Then 
Mulder would leave the FBI, and his work wouldn't become a 
crusade, like it would if they just killed him. 

So, Mulder, knowing all this, was having the best run of his 
life.  The air that was now burning his lungs felt great.  
Everything felt great. That was, until he got hit over the 
head.

Dana Scully rushed into the hospital at eight o'clock that 
morning wondering what Mulder had gotten himself into this 
time.  She didn't want to ever be inside a hospital again, 
but in the X-files, that was as improbable as aliens coming 
to earth just to see if the McDonald's Bigmac measured up to 
universal standards.  She used her badge to get into the 
examinaition room and found a half naked Mulder sitting on 
the exam table. "Okay, Mulder, what happened this time?"

Mulder looked over at his partner, who had obviously been 
pulled out of bed to come get him.  Her red hair was tied up 
in a ponytail, and her blue eyes still looked only slightly 
half awake.  He grinned wryly, "Scully, did you know that 
it's not even safe to go jogging in Washington D.C. anymore? 
I swear, not even Bill Clinton would be safe.  I was out 
running when some idiot knocked me upside the head.  I guess 
he was a mugger or something, but I wasn't carrying 
anything, so he didn't get any money off me."

"How long were you out?" Scully asked, looking at his chart. 
"I don't know, what time is it?"

Scully glanced at her watch, then looked back at the chart. 
 "7:30."

"Then I was out about two hours," Mulder said.

"Two hours!  He must of hit you hard," Scully went around to 
the back of Mulder, checking his head.

"Well, I've got one helluva headache, so I'd say he has a 
pretty good arm. There is one weird thing, though," Mulder 
frowned.

"Oh?  Such as..."

"I was jogging out by the reflection pool when I got knocked 
out, but when I regained conciousness, I was in an empty 
storage building two miles from there."

Scully frowned too.  "Did the doctor do a full examination?"

Mulder lightly grinned.  "Don't worry, I don't have any 
alien implants. It was just weird, that's all."

Scully relaxed visably.  "Well, Mulder, with the extent of 
that head injury, they'll probably want to keep you for a 
while, for observation's sake."  He looked grim, and she 
smiled a little.  "However," he perked up, "since I'm a 
doctor, I can probably get them to release you into my 
care."

Mulder looked at her anxiously.  "Please?" Scully laughed 
and went out to go find the doctor.  When she came back in, 
Mulder was fully dressed, and just about to walk out the 
door.

"You're a little optamistic, aren't you?" she addressed him.

"With you helping get me out, Scully?  I'm not just 
optamistic, I'm one hundred percent certain," he grinned.

She returned the grin.  "Come on, let's get out of here.  I 
don't like hospitals anymore."

"Good, I'm glad, I always hated 'em." Before she pulled out 
of the parking lot, Mulder turned to her.  "And, Scully..."

"Hmm?" she glanced over at him.

He gave her a serious smile, "Thanks for getting me out of 
one of the situations I hate... again."

Dana smiled back, "Anytime and everytime Mulder.  You know 
that."

His smile turned into a lopsided grin as he fastened his 
seatbelt.

Monday, February 16, 1998

When Fox Mulder walked into the office that morning, he got 
a concerned look from Dana Scully, who had beaten him to 
work.

"Are you alright, Mulder?" she asked, taking in his ruffled 
suit, tousled hair, and glazed hazel eyes.  "I didn't hear 
from you since we got back from the Brady case Thursday, and 
you look like hell."

"Gee, thanks, Scully," he muttered, flopping down in his 
desk chair.  "Why don't you say I need a hair cut and shave 
while you're at it."

She just stared at him, saying in one look, you're not 
getting out of this, so you might as well just tell me 
what's going on.

"Actually," he relented, "I've just had some rough nights.  
I've been waking up in cold sweats, and had a fever for the 
past couple of days."

Scully furrowed her brow.  "Oh?  Anything else?"

"Besides the horrendus mouth sores I've been getting?  No."

"How long have you had the sores?"

"About a week, Doctor."

She gave him a look and went on, "And the other symptoms?"

"They started up Thursday night.  I felt too sick to call 
you."

Scully nodded.  "You should get checked out, could be the 
flu."

"The flu?" Mulder whined.  "Damn, I thought I had made it 
through this cold season."

Scully went back to typing her report on her computer.  
"Take today off Mulder, go to the doctor."

"Why?  You're a doctor."

"Mulder, I'm not going to take a chance on diagnosing you 
wrong, and you ending up sicker because of it.  Go, my 
orders."

Mulder smiled and started for the office door.  I'll call 
you later, Scully."

She nodded her head and continued typing.  

Two hours later, her phone rang.  "Scully," she answered.

"You were right, the doctor said I had the flu."

Scully smiled into the phone.  "Ah, score one for me."

Over the line, she could hear Mulder chuckle.  "Anyway," he 
said, "I guess it would be best if we don't have contact for 
a couple of days.  I was told not to go to work."  At the 
last sentence, his tone became defeated.

Scully smiled again.  "Don't worry Mulder, you'll get 
better."

"Yeah, I know," he disconnected.

Scully shook her head and went back to typing.

Meanwhile, a man from somewhere in the FBI building smiled 
through his smoke.  Mulder and Scully's office and phones 
were bugged.  He turned to look at another man sitting 
across from him.

"You did a good job, friend," he said, his voice coming out 
in a slightly musical tone.

"Thank you, sir," the other man said.

The cigarette man took out his gun and pointed it at the 
man. "Unfortunantly, you cannot be trusted."

"Hey!  This wasn't part of the deal!  I get him sick, you 
give me the money, and it's over."

"You should learn to not trust the Devil.  Maybe this will 
stick with you in Hell," the Cancerman fired the gun and the 
bullet came out of the silencer, and in less that a minute, 
the man was dead on the floor.  The Cancerman picked up his 
phone, the smoke curling around him once again.

"Have someone come up here and take care of the body," he 
muttered, and hung up, smiling.  At last, Fox Mulder was 
finished.

Sunday, March 1, 1998

Scully took the elevator to Mulder's apartment, worried.  
After his flu, he had come back to work, but then after the 
next weekend, he hadn't been in for a week.  She had talked 
to him on the phone, but today, he hadn't answered, and his 
cell was out of service.  The week that he hadn't come to 
work, he had said that the flu had tried to hit him again, 
so he thought he should rest.

Scully was really worried about him.  Mulder didn't take off 
anymore without telling her.  It was another unspoken 
agreement that had come between them during her experience 
with cancer.

When Mulder didn't answer the door, Scully went ahead and 
used her key, and found Mulder curled up on his couch, 
holding his stomach and sweating heavily.

"Jesus, Mulder," she said, alarmed, and went and got a wet 
wash cloth, wiping off his face.

He was looking at her, but could hardly talk.

"Mulder, you're burning up, take off your clothes."

At this, he managed to quip, "Scully, are you coming on to 
me?"

"Mulder, this could be serious, take off your clothes."

"I... I would if I could," he muttered.

Scully helped him strip down to his boxers.  He was finally 
cooling down.

"What's wrong Mulder?" she asked when it appeared he could 
talk.

"I-I don't know.  I thought it was the flu, but if it is, 
it's worse than I've ever had."

"Can you tell me your symptoms?"

"Um, night sweats, fever, diarrhea, I've had trouble 
breathing at times, and I've gotten more of those mouth 
sores.  Sometimes I feel like I'm dehydrated, and other 
times, my stomach feels like someone is exploding atomic 
bombs inside me.  Oh, and lately I feel like I'm always 
tired," his face was contorted, and he was getting really 
worried.

So was Scully, but for a different reason.  "Mulder, do you 
have a scale or anything to weigh yourself here?"

"No, why?"

"Just... get dressed, I have a scale at my place."

"Okay," he stood up and turned his back to her.

"Mulder, stop, but don't turn around."

He smiled a little, trying to cover up his fear at her 
obvious worry, "What, are you going to shoot me, Scully?"

She didn't answer him, but walked over to him, rubbing a 
spot at his back. "Mulder, come with me into your bathroom, 
I want you to see something."

He frowned, confused, but complied, and turned to look at 
his back in the mirror.  "Shit," he said, addressing a dark 
brown spot on his skin.  "What is that?"

"It's a swollen lymph gland.  Get dressed, we're going to 
the hospital."

The drive to the hospital was a quite one.  Scully kept her 
eyes on the road, while Mulder kept throwing worried glances 
her way.

At the hospital, Mulder stood in the waiting room for a 
minute before following Scully.  She was talking to a doctor 
when he came up behind her.

"No, I know how to give the test myself."  It appeared they 
were arguing.

"Look, <Agent> Scully, you know I wouldn't be letting you do 
this if you weren't an FBI Agent <and> a doctor," the doctor 
told her.

"I know that <Doctor> Horton, this won't show up on your 
record, just let me have the testing kit, and an examination 
room.  Remember, Mike, you owe me a big one."

The doctor sighed.  "I know, Dana, I know.  Just... I don't 
owe you anything after this, because this could get both of 
us in trouble."

"I know that, just keep this off the record, and no one but 
me, you, Mulder, and the hospital lab techs will know 
anything.  And keep this off Mulder's hospital records, 
too."

"Keep what off my records?" he finally spoke up.

Scully wheeled around to face him.  "Nothing Mulder."

"Scully, talk to me."

"I just want to run a few tests to make sure that you're all 
right, and I don't want the Bureau to know, okay?"

Mulder barely accepted this answer, nodding his head.

"You can use that exam room, and I'll have a nurse bring in 
the kit. Tell me when you're done?" Mike said.

Scully nodded, leading Mulder into the exam room.  "Thanks 
again Mike."

"Sure Dana, but remember, no more after this.  Just because 
you got me into med school-"

She smiled, cutting him of, "I know MIke, don't worry, this 
is the last time, I promise."

Mike smiled his good-bye, "Alright, see ya later."

"See you Mike," the doctor walked off and Scully told Mulder 
to get on the scale.

Mulder's jaw almost fell off when he found that he had lost 
about fifteen pounds in two weeks.  Scully sighed, closing 
her eyes.

"I eat regular as always, and exercise the same, if not a 
little less. What's going on Scully?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Dammit, you have to have some idea, or you wouldn't be 
dodging my questions.  And I have to admit, you've gotten 
pretty good at that where my health is concerned."

"You're right, Mulder, I have an idea.  I have a few, but 
I'm <not sure>," she said in a tone that kept him from 
making a comeback.

A minute later, a nurse walked in, wheeling a small cart 
behind her with some various equipment.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do this?" asked the 
nurse.

"No, I'd prefer to do it myself.  Come in five to get the 
sample to run to the lab."

The nurse smiled before walking out the door.  "Sure thing 
Agent Scully."

"Roll up your sleeve Mulder," she instructed as she got a 
blood pressure cuff off the desk.  "I'm going to draw some 
blood."

"Is there a reason that you're doing all this yourself, 
Scully?" Mulder asked as she applied the cuff, then cleaned 
the skin over his vein.

"I just want to be discrete."

"Why?" he asked, wincing a little as she jabbed the needle 
into his arm and started to draw the blood.

"Dammit, Mulder, I have my reasons," she snapped, 
transfering the blood into sterile tubes marked with his 
name.

The nurse came in a couple of minutes later, as Scully was 
compressing the puncture on Mulder's vein and putting a 
Band-aid over it.

"The results should be ready in one to two weeks."

"Rush this one, make it one." Scully told the nurse, who was 
just a little taller than she.

"Okay, Agent Scully.  Do you want us to phone you or Agent 
Mulder?"

"Me, please," Scully said.

The nurse nodded and walked out, carrying the blood test 
with her.

"Okay, Scully, don't you think it's about time you tell me 
what the hell this is all about?"

"I'll tell you when I know, Mulder."

Conversation ended there, and the following week, there was 
hardly any conversation un-work related.

Monday, March 9, 1998

"Scully," she answered, picking up her office phone. "Yes, I 
did.  Yes, I am.  Look, I'm sitting, Mike, just tell me the 
results!" she snapped, causing Mulder to look up at her 
curiously.  He saw her face fall, and her eyes well up with 
tears.  "Okay, thanks Mike," she said, her voice soft with 
defeat.  "No, I'll be fine.  No, I haven't.  Yes, I'll tell 
him.  I don't know when!  Okay, thanks again, Mike.  Bye."  
She hung up and looked over at Mulder, one tear falling.

"Scully?" he questioned, his brow furrowed, worried.

"Um, Mulder, after you get off today, come over to my place. 
 Okay?  I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"Scully, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, gathering her things and hurrying out 
the door. Mulder wasn't frightened by this, and her crying 
didn't scare him either, nor the phone call.  What embedded 
fear deep inside of Fox Mulder was the fact that when Scully 
had looked up at him, he didn't see concern for him, or hurt 
for him, he saw pity, and fear, and that scared him more 
than anything.

Later that day, Mulder showed up on Scully's front door, and 
she took him in.  When the door was closed, she instantly 
pulled him into a tight hug. Confused, he wrapped his arms 
around her.

"Hey," he breathed into her hair.  "What's wrong?"

"We haven't had enough of these, you know that Mulder?"

"What, hugs?"

"Yeah."

He smiled a little.  "Well, we got all the time in the 
world, you know."

She pulled away from him.  "Come sit down.  Do you want 
anything to drink?"

"No, that's alright."  He walked into her living room, 
sitting down on her couch.  Scully sat down at the other 
sied, and faced him.  He flickered over her features.  
Un-like him, she was already changed out of her work attire, 
in a too large tee-shirt and jeans.  On her, it was 
adorable.  But her face was weary, like she hadn't slept 
much in the past week.

"Okay, Mulder, remember the test I had you take?"

He shook his head up and down, yes.

"Alright, I had you take that test because you were having 
all those symptoms.  At first, everyone thought it was the 
flu, but thar wouldn't explain the mouth sores, or the 
weight loss, or, more importantly, the swollen lymph 
glands."

"Yeah, Scully, I've noticed another one of those on my upper 
left arm..."

"Right," she said, nodding her head.  "Well... Fox," he 
looked up her sharply, catching her gaze.  This must really 
be serious.  "They... they are all signs of the progression 
of...  H... HIV."

His face paled... HIV... His mind was screaming, 
ohmygodohmygodnononononotmenotme.  His voice, despite the 
inner turmoil, came out surprisingly calm.  "Scully, I don't 
have HIV, it didn't show up on my last blood test."

"I know that Mulder.  The test that I gave you last week 
proved positive, and with you're recent bout with flu... and 
because of your other symptoms..."she hesitated.

"What are you trying to say, Scully?"

"I"m saying that the hospital, and I, have determined that 
it's progressed into AIDS."  She was holding his hand now, 
her grip tight, and he was grateful for that support, 
because if it hadn't been there, he felt like he would just 
fall, like a rope breaking while rock climbing.

"No, Dana, not me," he shook his head.  "I haven't even 
fucking had sex in... months, and I never have unprotected 
sex.  I can't have AIDS."

"Mulder, it's not nessicarily unprotected sexual intercourse 
that can give you AIDS, it's-"

"I know how you can contract it, Scully!  I've watched the 
biographies, the programs!  I don't use contaminated 
needles, I don't use drugs, I haven't had a blood 
transfusion since I was shot in my leg, and my mother 
doesn't have HIV.  I can't have it!"  His voice, now barely 
controlled rage.

"Mulder, the test you were given was the Western Blot Test. 
 That is the most recent and the best test avaible.  It's 
nearly one hundred percent accurate.  They've done the blood 
work at the hospital.  I trust Mike, and the technicians he 
had do the tests."

Mulder was still shaking his head.

"Fox, look, just because you have HIV doesn't mean you have 
AIDS, but in your case it's different.  AIDS hardly ever 
even appears in your system for at least six months.  What 
happened to you six months ago?"

"Shit, the mugging..." his face went two shades paler than 
before.

Scully nodded her head, before she spoke again, her face 
contorting slightly with the physical efforts to keep under 
under control.  "I don't think this was a random mugging.  I 
more than likely contracted my cancer after I was abducted, 
but they couldn't take you for that long a time.  It would 
be traced directly back to the Consortium, but not now.  
Now, they get some guy to knock you out, and more than 
likely, give you a blood transfer through a hypodermic 
needle, or to some effect of that.  I can't be sure how they 
knew you would contract HIV or AIDS, or that it would hit 
you so hard, but they did."

Mulder looked up at her, his gaze catching hers. 

"Why didn't you tell me, Scully?  Why didn't you fucking 
tell me when you decided to give me that test?" his voice 
was rising, not in anger, but pain.  He ran a hand through 
his hair and held the side of his face.  "I fucking trusted 
you to tell me something like this!  I had my fucking 
rights!"

Scully took a deep breath and released it, trying to keep 
calm, but her voice betrayed her as it cracked slightly when 
she spoke.  "I know, Mulder, I know.  I'm sorry.  I just 
didn't want to get you worked up, because it could have just 
as easily been a bad case of the flu.  Fox, you have to 
believe me when I say that I never thought it was possible, 
either."

"I have AIDS?" he asked, his voice almost questioning in 
tone, but he knew.  He knew for sure now, because it was 
Scully telling him, Scully clutching his hand, Scully 
calling him Fox.

He looked over at her, and saw no lying, no joking, in her 
eyes, only sadness and fear.  Scully saw him about to break 
down, and enveloped him, hugging him tightly.  She knew 
Mulder would take this outwardly harder than she had her 
cancer, because he simply was more outwardly sensitive in a 
lot of aspects.  

He allowed himself to cry in her arms.  This was worse than 
her cancer, for her there were treatments, cures.  For her, 
there were family and friends.  For her, there was hope.

Fox Mulder knew he didn't have anyone or any hope, only Dana 
Scully, and he latched on to her, his lifeline.  This was 
too painful for him to undergo alone, and at least he knew 
she would be there for him.

Scully felt his breathing start to return to normal, and 
then eventually slow down, and she knew he was asleep, not 
because he wanted to be, but from sheer exhaustion.  She 
laid both him and herself down on the couch, and fell asleep 
there with him.

Tuesday, March 10, 1998

When Fox Mulder awoke that morning, he found that instead of 
being on his couch, he was on Dana Scully's couch.  For a 
moment, confusion flooded his sleep hazed mind.  Then, the 
last day's events came flooding back to him, like a demon, 
coming out of the night.  

As much as his mortallity was scaring him right now, 
something else terrified him, and that was the fact that 
although Dana had let him fall asleep in her arms, she 
wasn't there right now.  That was when relief came flooding 
back through the sense of smell and aroma of coffee.  At 
least she hadn't left him.  

Scully came walking into her living room and smiled at him 
softly. "Morning Mulder.  How are you?"

Mulder looked at her greatfully, knowing that she was trying 
to stay off the subject of his... of... Christ, he couldn't 
even say the name in his head.  "I'm fi-... No, I'm not 
fine, Dana, I'm scared."

She looked at him, thinking that for all the world, he 
looked like a little boy who had just lost his best friend. 
 Scully walked over to the couch, sitting down next to him, 
and took his hand in hers, just as she had done the night 
before.  "I know, Fox... I'm afraid too."

There was a moment of silence that passed between them, and 
to break any possible tension, Scully spoke up again.  "I, 
uh, called Skinner, and requested the rest of the week off 
for me and you.  I said you were sick and that I was just 
tired."

Mulder nodded.  "Thank you."  He looked up at her then, 
catching her gaze so she couldn't lie to him, because he 
knew that if provided the opening, on his next question, she 
would.  "How long can I expect to live?"

She held his stare, "Well, most AIDS patients live anywhere 
from half a year to two years..."

Mulder sensed the catch.  "But..."

"But I don't believe that this is the case for you. Even 
Mike is only giving you four to five months, and this is 
because it's hit you so hard. Mulder, I have reason to 
believe that they gave this to you directly through a blood 
transfusion of sorts.  That's probably why you were so wiped 
after the mugging.  We have to tell-"

"No!" he interrupted her sharply.

"Mulder, why not?"

"Scully, if one person knows, then everyone will know, and I 
can't let that happen.  I'll always be remembered as Spooky 
Mulder, but I don't want to die as a drug user, or someone 
who frequently has unprotected sex with any number of women. 
 Not only will this project on to me, but on to my mother, 
my sister, you..."

"Skinner has to know, and so will half the others in the FBI 
that have to take a look at your medical records."

"I thought you said that this would be kept off the record."

"Mulder, they can't keep <this> off the record.  That would 
be like saying Sam was never taken from you," she said, 
trying to get her point across.

"Why the hell not!?"

"Because Mulder, you have AIDS!  You can't give blood 
anymore, you have to get treatments, the doctor that 
unwittingly tries to save you by sticking his hand in your 
blood could get infected, these people have to know these 
things, Mulder."

"So what should I do!" he yelled, his fear evident in his 
voice.  "Should I go out there with some fucking peice of 
paper stamped to my head proclaiming I'm an AIDS victim?  Is 
that what you want?"

"Dammit Mulder, that is not what I want and you know it!  
Mulder, there is only one thing I want."

"Yeah, what is that?"

"I don't want you to die before you're dead.  I don't want 
you to die at all."

They both quieted.  When Mulder finally spoke, his voice was 
below his normal speaking level.  "You said I have to get 
treatments. I thought AIDS wasn't treatable."

She took a deep breath and let it out.  "Technically, it's 
not, but they do have certan treatments that can prolong 
your life."

"Such as?"

"Well, AIDS is not the direct killer.  Most AIDS patients 
die from certain opportunistic illnesses, so scientists 
focused on developing drugs which may delay the onset of 
these illnesses.  You will probably go on some type of one 
of the drugs, more than likely azidothymidine, called AZT, 
or didanosine, called DDL.  There are some other drugs, but 
these two are the most common."

Mulder nodded his head.  "So, why are you guys giving me 
less time than other A-... people with this disease?"

"Because you've already come down with the flu, and that is 
one of many opportunistic illnesses."

"I beat that virus."

Scully sighed.  She wished that he could see that she was 
dying with him. "Mulder, it left you extremely weak, you 
could contract pneumonia, which is the leading cause of 
death among AIDS patients, and there are esophagus yeast 
infections which are also common, that could leave you 
dehydrated and cause weight loss.  You could get Kaposi's 
sarcoma, or Cytomegalovirus..." she trailed off, looking up 
at him.

"Scully, don't use all of those medical terms on me, I know 
what Kaposi's sarcoma is, but Cytomegalovirus..."  He looked 
confused, afraid, hundreds of emotions swirling in his eyes.

"It's an eye infection, that most likely would eventually 
cause blindness, but it is rare-"

"Scully, I don't want you to try and comfort me, I just want 
to know what I'm up against.  Now, I'm going to ask you 
this, and I want a straight answer from you...  Scully, what 
would you, as a doctor, tell me about my chances for living 
longer than six months were?"

Scully's eyes widened and she looked deep into his eyes, as 
if trying to penetrate his soul.  "Mulder... In all 
seriousness, I would be generous to give you 30/70 odds."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed.  Scully was just about 
to say something else when her phone rang.  "Scully.  Yes 
sir.  Sir, I wanted to tell you when I felt-" she was cut 
off.  "No sir.  No sir.  Right away, sir."  She hung up.  
"Mulder, that was Skinner.  He wants us in his office ASAP."

"I don't know if I can do this, Scully."

She held out her hand.  "No, you can't.  But, we... We can."

He looked at the out stretched hand, back at her, and then 
her hand again, and entwined his fingers with hers.  "Thank 
you Dana, for everything."

"As I said before partner, anytime and everytime." They 
walked out the door, together.	

Skinner was angry.  No, he was seething.  He couldn't 
believe that his agents would keep something like this from 
him.  Even when Scully had gotten her cancer, he had known 
about it, but he had to find out about Mulder and his 
disease from not only hospital records, but Cancerman.  He 
had a right to know, dammit!  He had never directly done 
anything to Mulder and Scully that hadn't come straight from 
the top, and he'd even done some unorthodox things for them. 
 

And still, they didn't even trust him as to keep their 
medical records confidential.  

There was a knock at his door.  He didn't even have to ask 
to know who it was.  "It's open."

In strode Mulder and Scully, his rouge agents, his 
unorthodox agents... his best agents.

"Sit down," he said, still looking some paper work on his 
desk.  When he finally looked up at them he said, "I thought 
I told you to tell <Mulder> to come, Agent Scully."

She matched his stare, "Sir, with all due respect, I don't 
care <who> you asked for, if it involves Mulder, it involves 
me."

Skinner had to say, he was a little surprised.  At the 
beginning of their partnership, they were just that, 
partners.  Not anymore, obviously.  They were more than 
that.  He let it drop, knowing that he wouldn't win an 
arguement with Dana Scully at this point.  "Okay, I want to 
know why the hell I wasn't told about Mulder contracting 
HIV."

Scully spoke once more.  "Sir, we believed at the time that 
this was the best course of action.  We didn't even know 
until yesterday that he did indeed have HIV, so instead of 
you asking another question, can I ask you what gives you 
the right to go snooping around in Agent Mulder's hospital 
records after me calling us both in for a couple of days?"

Skinner was outraged now.  "What gives <you> the right, 
Agent Scully, to question my authority?"

Her voice now matched his in pitch.  "What gives me the 
right?  I already have it!  Can you honestly tell me that 
you have not talked to that chainsmoking bastard in the past 
fourty eight hours?"

He looked down, silenced for the first time in his career.

"Sir?" Mulder said, speaking up.  "Can you please tell me 
what you called us in for, because if it was just to ream us 
out-"

"No, Agent Mulder.  I wanted to tell you that I'm going to 
have to tell the staff doctors and some of the technicians 
here at the Buearu about your... condition.  They need to be 
notified, and I wanted to make sure you knew."

"Thank you sir, is that all?" Mulder asked.  He had a 
feeling that he should take over talking to Skinner, or else 
Scully might find herself out of a job for assult and 
battery.  

"Yes, it is.  You're dismissed."

The two agents were almost out the door when Skinner stopped 
them.  They turned and looked at him.  "Agent Mulder, I'm 
sorry, truly sorry."

Mulder nodded and Scully, still angry, just clenched her 
jaw.  As they walked out, Skinner could barely hear Scully 
mutter, "Hollow words for a hollow man."

They closed the door and Skinner rocked back in his chair, 
taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, 
all the while wondering where he had lost his compassion.  
That was when it hit him.  His compassion had never 
dissapeared, just been doused by authority.  Well, he made 
his silent vow, not again, not anymore.

Sunday, April 5th, 1998

Hours had turned into days had turned into weeks.  Mulder 
decided to get on the drugs and light treatments for his 
disease.  He still found it almost impossible to outwardly 
say he had AIDS.  He and Scully spent more time than ever 
with each other now.  It was almost a twenty-four hour a day 
thing.  He was in all senses, living with her.  The only way 
he could ever get away from his demons of the night was to 
fall asleep right beside her, and while the relationship was 
still one-hundred percent platonic, he still slept in her 
bed at night, his body spooning hers.

In a way, they both found this comforting, this new level in 
their relationship.  It was now an unbreakable bond.  

They never talked about Mulder's mortality.  It was too 
uncomfortable for both of them, to think about him dying.  

So, this evening, they were both relaxing.  They had come 
off a horrendous load of paperwork, that had them both fully 
frustrated.  Despite everything, they wanted to be out on 
the field.  Mulder was sitting on the couch with Scully, his 
arm causually draped around her; physical contact was now 
almost constant as well in the ever changing relationship.  
They were watching some movie that neither one was really 
listening to, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

Dana changed her position slightly, her elbow lightly 
grazing Fox's lower ribs.

He jumped slightly.  "Jeeze Scully, don't do that." A grin 
formed on Dana's mouth.  "Why, Mulder?  Are you a little," 
she repeated the action, and to her delight, produced the 
same reaction, "ticklish maybe?"  Her grin grew a little 
wider.

Fox tried to be serious, although he could feel his own lips 
quirking in a smile, "No, not at all Dr. Scully."

"Really?" She muttered, and lightly trailed her fingers over 
the entire side of his ribcage, sending him squirming.  
"Hmm, I think you need a second opinion on that."  

He looked down at her, and decided to return the game, 
hitting the ball back on her court.  "I think..." he said, 
grazing his own fingers over her lower ribs, "that we could 
give the same analysis to you."

She shivered, and giggled a little from the sensation.  

The game was on, and they both started trying to get at each 
other, both laughing and giggling through the whole 
experiance, finally pulling each other into a hug, both out 
of breath.

Their breathing soon returned to normal, but they found that 
neither one was willing to let go.

It was Mulder who broke the scilence, but he never finished 
his thought. "Dana, I..."

She looked up at him, her eyes concentrating on his, and he 
found that he was lost, unable to speak, and so, he tried to 
express himself without words, and the only way he could 
acheive this was to slowly lower his head to hers, and 
softly press his lips to her own.  And she responded ever so 
lightly back.

The first kiss was chaste, innocent...  The second, was not.

He pulled back, and she pressed her lips back up against 
his, and they both demanded to deepen the kiss, and they 
both complied.  This one lasted longer, and he lowered her 
back to the couch, moving over the top of her.  

That was when the warning signals flew off in his head.  He 
pulled back quickly, and looked down at her, his posture all 
that of a deer caught in headlights.

"Scully?  Oh... Jesus... I-I-I.... I can't... I'm... I..." 
he could do nothing but stutter, which was more than she 
could manage at the time.  He flew up off the couch, 
standing straight upright.  "We just... Jesus, um.... I-I 
need to... go..."  He ran to the door, throwing on a light 
jacket.

She was finally able to speak as he was opening the door.  
"Mulder?" was all she could manage.

"Look, Da- Scully, I'm sorry, but I can't do this, not to 
me, and especially not to you.  It's not fair, I can't love 
you the way I want to, I can't... I can't do anything.  I 
can't live," his voice, which had been rising was now soft, 
scared, "I-I can't live."  He ran out the door.

The next week he called in sick, and then, when he did come 
back, he put so much distance between them that she didn't 
know how to break through. The wall this time was greater 
than ever, and the partnership was worse than the worst it 
had ever been.  There was no more physical contact, no more 
hands at the back to guide, no more subtle and comforting 
arm touches. He didn't call her Dana and she didn't call him 
Fox.  Their solve rate dropped below eighty, then below 
seventy.  

Somewhere in the FBI Building, a dark man took a long drag 
off his cigarrette.  He had to admit, it had taken longer 
than expected, but Fox Mulder was beyond all help now.  It 
was only a matter of time.  He smiled and took another long 
drag, finishing off the cigarrette.

Sunday, June 21, 1998

Mulder hadn't come into the office for the last week, and 
hadn't contacted her, either.  Dana was worried.  For all 
she knew, he was lying dead in a gutter.  She needed someone 
to talk to, and so she called Mike, the doctor, and he 
agreed to have lunch with her that day.

"Hi Mike," she said, sitting down in the small diner they 
had chosen. 

"Hello, Dana," he smiled.  "So, to what do I owe this 
pleasure?"

"I just wanted a friend to talk to, to be with," she 
admitted.

"Oh, what's up?"

"Well, it's just that I haven't seen or heard from Mulder 
for a week, and I have to say, I'm getting worried."

At this, Mike practically choked on his drink. 

"Mike?"

"Dana, he didn't tell you?" he asked, the surprise evident 
in his voice.

"Tell me what?"

"Mulder admitted himself to the hospital a week ago. He said 
that he didn't think he could handle the stress of the job 
and his life anymore, and thought he would be better off."

"Mike, can you give me his room number?"

"203."

"Thanks, I'm sorry I'm cutting this short."

"No prob, Dana, just be careful, I don't want you wheeled in 
on a gurney because you did something stupid on the road 
after driving off in a mad rush."

She smiled a little, "Don't worry Mike, I'm not going to 
kill myself." The thought running through her mind was, I'm 
already dying.

He heard the knock on the door of his private room and 
didn't acknowledge it.  If it was a nurse, she would come 
in, if it was Skinner, he would come in.  So, when the door 
opened, Fox Mulder just continued to stare out the window 
out of his lifeless eyes.  

Scully entered his room, and stood there, appraising him.  
He had lost a lot more weight, and looked extremely sick.  
He couldn't weigh more than 145 now, and for his height, 
that was almost dead.  When he didn't even acknowledge her 
presence, she muttered quietly, with barely contained anger, 
"Why didn't you tell me?"

Mulder's head whipped around to confront her.  "Oh Jesus," 
he broke her gaze, ashamed.  "Scully, I couldn't, because I 
knew you wouldn't let me.  I don't want you to watch me 
die."

"So that's it?" she shut the door.  "You're just giving up?"

"There is nothing left to give up, I was already marked for 
death."

"Dammit Mulder, so I was I!  I have been gentle with you, 
understanding, caring, loving, and all the while, you just 
slipped further and further out of grasp, and now, you've 
given up completely.  Well, dammit Mulder, I can't accept 
that!"

"You'll have to Dana, I'm a dead man, it's just a matter of 
time."

"Jesus Mulder you can fight this thing, you can live!"

He looked up at her, coldly, "Yeah, and who the hell would 
want me too?  I doubt anyone would notice if I even died 
except for the orderlies!"

"How can you say that!"  Her tone got quieter.  "Can't you 
see that if you die, half of me dies too?  Can't you see 
that?"

His normally beautiful hazel eyes, always filled with life, 
stared back at her, still a lifeless grey.  

Dana closed her eyes.  <Dammit, if he's not going to give in 
to gentle coaxing, I guess I'll just have to scare the hell 
out of him.>

She reached around her back and pulled out her 9 millimeter. 
 

"Dana, what are you doing?" 

"Fox, you don't seem to be understanding that if you die, so 
do I, so I guess I'll just end my suffering right here and 
now, at least the mess will be easy to clean up."  She 
raised her gun to her head, putting the barrel into her 
mouth.

Finally, Fox's eyes turned color, the fear evident. "Dana, 
no!  Don't do this Dana!  I can't live without you!"

"Mulder," she said around the barrel of the gun, still in 
her mouth, "you've already decided to die, so why do you 
need to live? I can't live without you either, and I sure as 
hell don't want to go after you, so fuck this life.  See ya 
in the after life Agent Mulder."  She shoved the barrel a 
little deeper, her finger visably tightening.  

"Dana!  You can't kill yourself for me!  Please!"

She glanced at him, and tightened her finger further on the 
gun, she wanted to make sure this was very slow.

Mulder rolled off the bed onto his knees, pleading. "You 
can't die!  I won't go if it means taking you with me!  
Please, Dana, I'm going to live," he said the last part 
softer. 

She looked down at him.  "What was that?" her words slightly 
distorted from the gun.

This time, he said it with conviction, and his eyes held 
honesty that had not been there before.  Dana knew he wasn't 
lying.  She removed her gun, and set it down by the table on 
his bed, enveloping him in a hard hug. "Thank you, Fox.  You 
have to live, you hear me?  You've got a promise to keep 
now."

His eyes, which had been streaming out tears when she had 
almost killed herself, found renewed tears in his last 
realization.  <I love Dana Katherine Scully.>  He hugged her 
back full force.  How could he have not noticed it.  The 
time he was taking care of her, and then she him, he was 
falling in love with her.

At the same time, her own thoughts were pretty much telling 
her the same thing.  Only, in her thoughts was also the 
constant, <He's going to live.> She knew he would now.  He 
had said it, had <promised> her he would.

He raised to his feet and she stood up with him.  "I'll be 
right back, Mulder, I'm thirsty, and I'm still tasting gun 
oil."  They both smiled, and she walked out to get her 
beverage, probably coffee.  He walked over to the table at 
his bedside, and on impulse, pulled the clip out of her gun, 
only then noticing that the clip was empty.  She had known 
all along he wouldn't let her shoot herself.

Mulder smiled, then grinned, then laughed.  He was in love, 
and he was going to live.

Friday, September 25, 1998

In the weeks since the episode at the hospital, Mulder's 
immune system had miracuosly recovered fully, and all of his 
symtoms of having AIDS had gradually disappered.  He had 
once again "moved in" to Dana's apartment, and things were 
pretty much back to the way they had been before his 
encounter with AIDS.  He was no longer just Agent Mulder, 
barely earning the title, but he was Fox Mulder, living up 
to both names.  Their partnership had been repaired, and 
their solve rate was back in the nineties.  

Earlier that week, Skinner had called them into his office, 
wanting to know what was going on, and Mulder had simply 
grasped Dana's hand, then looked Skinner straight in the eye 
and said "I'm going to live, sir, I had better start acting 
like it."  Then both agents had gotten up and sauntered out 
of his office without being dismissed. Skinner had looked at 
his closed door in disbelief.  This couldn't be the same 
Mulder that had told him he was going to take an indefinite 
leave of absence while receiving treatments at the hospital. 

The Cancerman was also stunned.  It wasn't supposed to 
happen like this, they weren't suppossed to fight and come 
out all the better for it.  His superiors were going to kill 
him; this had been his last chance.  Later that day, he had 
been found, dead, in his office.  The autopsy proved that he 
had died of an accelerated heart rate, most likely, a heart 
attack had ensued.

As for Mulder and Scully's personal relationship, it was the 
deepest and fullest it had ever been. And while there had 
been no repeats of the kiss, they acted like they were 
dating, or married.  They didn't care who saw them acting 
like best friends, or even if anyone who saw them assumed 
they were in a relationship, because in a way, they were.  
They were still professional, and as tough as ever; Mulder 
as crazy as before, and Scully still the strong skeptic.  
But now, they would walk into the FBI Building, Mulder's arm 
causually slung over her shoulders, or them holding hands, 
talking and joking about various things, more than likely, 
their latest case.  

The thing was, no one was genuinely surprised.   Everyone 
took it as a normal occurence, certainly more normal than 
any X-file.

Today, Mulder walked into the hospital, firmly holding 
Scully's hand, to get the results of his latest bloodwork.  
Mike stepped up to them when they got to the lab counter.  

"Mulder, Dana, come with me, I did the bloodwork, and would 
like to talk to both of you in my private office," he was 
smiling, and looking quite... thrilled, or maybe astonished.

Fox and Dana looked curiously at each other, and followed 
him into his office.

"Please, sit down."  They did as told, and he proceded.  
"Now, there have been a few documented cases in which some 
retroviruses have completely disappeared out of the body.  
Most doctors will even call these instances miracles.  The 
individuals that these occurences-"

"Mike," Dana said, "please get to the point.  I hate to be 
blunt, but Mulder and I do have to go to work."

"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, anyway, we did multiple tests on Mulder 
and as you know, we asked him back for more blood samples.  
I'm sure this worried you both, but the thing is, we got 
more samples so we could be sure the tests were true, and it 
turns out, they were.  Agent Mulder, you no longer have any 
trace of the HIV or AIDS virus left in your system."

Both agents stared at him, exasperated. Mulder said, 
"You-you can't be serious.  I-I mean, this just... It 
doesn't happen, Doctor."

Mike laughed fully.  "Oh, I can assure you, it does, and it 
is... to you."

Dana, taking on the role of the scientist, asked him, "Will 
there be a reoccurance of the virus?"

Mike shook his head, "It's never happened in documented 
history.  Mulder, I can assure you, there is no more danger 
of you passing the virus on, because you don't have it any 
more.  Still practice safe sex," he said jokingly, "but... 
you don't have HIV <or> AIDS.  Not anymore."

Mulder laughed, breaking out in a grin, and turned to Dana. 
 She was laughing to, and they hugged each other strongly.  
Mike smiled, and walked out of the office unnoticed.  

"I'm gonna live!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.

She was crying too.  "Yeah, Fox.  <We're> going to live."

"Yes, we are!"  He proceded to break the contact, and then 
fell to his knees as he had in what seemed so long ago in 
that hospital room and brandished a box.  "Dana Katherine 
Scully, marry me." 
____________________________________________________________





Epilogue

Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully were united in 
holy matrimony two months later.  The wedding was 
traditional, although not huge.  The entire Scully family 
and what was left of the Mulder family attened, including 
most of the D.C. branch of the Buearu.  Walter Skinner 
walked Dana down the aisle.  

The vows they said were anything but traditional, however, 
as rarely is in the X-files universe.  They pledged their 
vows as follows:

Fox: You stood by me when everyone else let me down.  You 
were my truth, my light, and my love.  I can't remember my 
life without you in it, and I don't think that now, I could 
if I had to.  I feel as if we are two souls, intwined, and 
just now finally finding each other.  We've walked through 
shadows, hurt, pain, and now, we unite ourselves through 
love.  Dana, I will live.

Dana: You were my shoulder to cry on, even when I insisted 
that I didn't need you.  I am now only beginning to realize 
that I've always needed you, from the day I was born.  You 
are my other half.  You were my strength, but I found that 
you had also become my weakness as well.  I relied on your 
passions and your beleifs, and then I finally realized, we 
were each other's own passion, our light.  Fox, I will live.

The next words were spoken by both of them, "We will live."

When they finally kissed at the end of the ceremony, they 
were given a standing ovation, and the applause drowned out 
everything.  Everything except the love.

It is now 2003, and Dana and Fox have been married over four 
years.  The search for Samantha and the ever elusive truth 
still continues, and Dana and Fox have not had children of 
their own, although they are seriously considering it.  

The truth <is> out there, and now, it is closer than ever to 
being found.

End. 
____________________________________________________________ 
________________







Note:  AIDS is a very serious virus, and is extremely hard 
for the victims of it to cope with.  I've seen friends taken 
down by this retrovirus, and America and the World are now 
only beginning to gain ground on this virus that seems to be 
taking down people quickly one by one. AIDS is not just 
found in gay people, or transmitted by sexual intercourse, 
as many seem to believe.  Yes, AIDS is transmitted through 
any kind of intercourse and sometimes even oral sex, it is 
also transmitted through an AIDS infected blood transfusion, 
or something such as a contaminated hypodermic needle, but 
it isn't transmitted through regular physical contact, or 
the air we breath. If a friend has AIDS, don't be afraid to 
give them a possibly needed hug, or hand hold, it won't kill 
you. Also, the facts used in this story have been taken from 
various research journals such as JAMA (Journal of the 
American Medical Association).  The treatments and 
information described is based on early and late 1996 
information as I did not have more current reseach 
information available. Thank you.

By, 
White Wolf.

"And if I have built this fortress around your heart
 Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
 Then let me build a bridge
 For I cannot fill the chasm." -
 From Fortress Around Your Heart, 
 By Sting from the album-
 The Dream of The Blue Turtles