The scene three hours later was almost the same as it had been before the 
hypotensive crisis, except that now, Skinner was absorbed in ESPN along with 
Mulder and Grey, and Maggie chatted quietly with Scully, whose book hadn't 
been touched since their return to the room. Her mother was listening 
intently to the story of what had transpired that afternoon, noticing that 
Dana was close to tears.

"I know I'm a doctor, Mom, but I was . . . I still AM . . . terrified. I 
could lose him." Her look became distant as she took in Fox on the bed. 
"There's so much we haven't done yet. So much we have left to experience 
together."

Maggie knew what her daughter was thinking - they'd discussed her and 
Mulder's decision to go slow early on in their romantic relationship. But 
truth be told, she was surprised that, after six months, Dana and Fox hadn't 
given in to their passions. The feelings were strong; you could feel it any 
time they were in the same room together.

"Don't worry, baby," Maggie said, enveloping Dana in a hug. "You and Fox 
will have your time together, I know it. You've been through too much for 
God not to reward you."

"I wish I was as sure as you are," Dana replied, wiping at tears that had 
never totally fallen. Just then, they all looked up as the door opened.

The doctor, carrying a folder, looked grim, and Scully instantly felt this 
wouldn't be good news. But she'd misinterpreted a "doctor face" before.

All attention was on him, waiting for him to speak. After a deep inhalation, 
he opened the folder in his large hands. "They just sent down the 
tissue-typing results. I haven't had the opportunity to look at them yet, 
but we'll review them together, okay?" He read off the first sheet.

"Byers, J: Negative." He flipped the page.
"Frohike, M: Negative." Flip.
"Langley R: Negative." Flip.
"MacKenzie, G," he took a deep breath - this was a biggie. "Negative." Gasps 
were heard all around as the doctor turned to the next page.
"Scully, D: Negative." Flip.
"Scully, M: Negative." Flip
"Skinner, W: Negative." He closed the folder slowly.

A deeper sigh was heard now. All the results had turned up negative - not a 
single match among them, not even his own brother. The doctor was still 
speaking. "I also had my own blood tested - that came up negative as well."

Mulder was scared - there was no denying it. "Does that mean I'll be tied to 
this contraption the rest of my life?"

The doctor half nodded, beginning to speak. "We'll put you on a treatment 
program where you won't have to be attached 24/7, but yes, you'll need to 
continue them."

"No," Skinner suddenly spoke, definitely sounding like the voice of 
authority. "There's got to be a match for you out there somewhere. We'll 
find them." Looking to Mulder, he asked permission. "Is it okay if I get 
some volunteers from the Bureau? Send out a few emails?"

"See if there's a match among other agents?" Mulder nodded, grinning 
slightly. "I don't have a lot of choice now, do I?"

"I'm afraid not," Scully said affectionately, squeezing his hand. Mulder 
nodded again to Skinner, who silently turned and left.

Scully knew the way some of their fellow agents saw her partner. She had to 
hope, however, that they would put their disdain aside and help them if at 
all possible. Hope hell. She had to believe!

Looking across the room, Scully realized that Grey was being abnormally 
quiet. She wasn't sure what she expected, but not that. Mulder, as usual, 
was meeting the crisis with his trademark humor, but Grey . . .

"Grey, are you all right?" she asked hesitantly.

"All right?" he laughed, but it sounded bitter. "All right? I'm useless. 
What the hell good am I if I can't even help my only brother when he needs 
me?" Grey grew more agitated with each word.

Mulder tried to console him. "Grey, there's nothing . . ."

"No! Don't give me any of that 'this is not your fault' crap, because it 
sure as hell feels like it is! After not having you in my life for over 
thirty years, I damn well should be able to do something to help you!"

"You ARE doing something," Mulder said forcefully. "You couldn't do any more 
than you already are. I mean, shit, Grey! You've left your home, and your 
life, left a case in the middle of an investigation, just so you could be 
here with me during this time." There was a pause while Mulder tried to 
judge if he was getting through to him. "You've done everything I could ask 
and more. The rest is out of your hands. I appreciate all of it, more than I 
can say, but I don't blame you for anything."

Mulder's intensity, while helping shore up his brother, also seemed to help 
calm Mulder himself. "Okay, little brother. Message received." Grey 
smiled, calmed, yet the shadow of guilt was still in his eyes.

Maggie had been standing quietly, observing from afar. In typical fashion, 
she gave comfort in her own unique way. "I'm going to go make dinner for us 
all, and bring it back here. Are there any special requests?" She looked 
from Mulder to Grey to Scully and back again.

"Anything cooked in your kitchen will be better than what I'd get at home," 
Mulder smiled. "Anything is fine."

Grey and Scully nodded their agreement, and Maggie kissed them all and left.

With her mother gone, and Grey and Mulder settled, the enormity of the 
situation descended on Scully. It was a strain to keep the tears at bay. 
She knew it was pressure release, but she didn't want to cry in front of 
Mulder. He had enough to worry about.

"I'm going to go check in at the office, see if there were any new leads, and 
I'll be back in time for dinner." She quickly kissed Mulder and fled the 
room.

"Where's she going?" Grey asked, sensing there was more to it than what she'd 
said.

"To regroup. Let her be. She'll be back, just as she promised."

"What do you mean, regroup? I thought it would take wild horses to drag her 
from your side."

"We've been together, in one way or another, for so many years. I love 
Scully, but I'm not blind to her faults - we all have them. She has this . . 
. idiosyncrasy, I guess you'd call it. She won't let anybody see her cry if 
she can possibly avoid it. And given the situation, I'm sure she thinks 
she's protecting me from her own emotions."

"But I've seen her show her emotions before. Why is this different?"

"She's gotten a lot better about being open since . . . well, since we got 
'together' in the romantic sense. Must've felt a major blowout coming if she 
felt the need to run now."

"She loves you." It was said without a doubt and was not a question.

"God knows why, but yeah. I've finally come to believe that she does."

"Cut it out, Fox. We've been through this before. There are a lot of things 
that she sees in you to love. Me, too, although they're probably not the 
same as Dana's." Grey chuckled.

"You have no idea how much that eases my mind," Mulder laughed back, but 
tiredly. Grey recognized it immediately. 

"You ready to take a rest, little brother? I think you could use it."

"Yeah, I think so," Mulder responded, sliding down under the covers. Wake me 
when Scully gets back, okay?"

"If she lets me, I will," Grey smiled, watching as his brother's eyes slid 
shut.

*************************

She'd made it as far as her car before the wave finally overtook her. They'd 
never had a perfect time together, but the last six months had been as close 
as she'd ever expected it to come. And just when everything was going so 
well, this had to happen. Why did it always have to be them?

The sobs shook her as she sat behind the steering wheel, knowing better than 
to proceed on the road before she had better control of herself. As the 
tears flowed, she went through it in her mind. She was a doctor, she knew 
the situation. She knew they could still have a long life together, despite 
treatments he'd have to have and being tied to a desk for the rest of his 
career. How would Mulder react when that realization finally came to him?

She seemed to finally be running out of tears when a trilling sounded from 
her pocket. 

"Scully," she said into the cell phone, trying her best to sound normal.

"Dana, this is Skinner. Are you okay?"

Damn. "As well as can be expected," she said, her voice growing smaller.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in my car on the way into the Bureau. What's going on?"

"I'm calling because I want the permission to go through Mulder's place 
again. There's got to be a clue there somewhere." Skinner's voice was soft, 
but determined.

"You really want to catch this guy, don't you, sir?"

"I know I can't do much to help Mulder, but resolving the case and maybe 
finding somebody who is responsible or how this got into his system will, at 
least, make me feel better."

"You don't want it any more than I do, sir. Do you still have the key to 
Mulder's place?"

"Yeah."

"Call me as soon as you get done, and you have to promise to tell me if you 
find anything."

"Of course, Scully."

A simple good-bye and their conversation ended. The call had helped to settle 
Scully's nerves and she felt safe putting her car into gear and leaving the 
hospital parking lot. She was met with a few looks of sympathy upon entering 
the Bureau, but nobody had actually spoken to her about Mulder's condition. 
The only people who knew so far of his illness were the ones directly 
involved in investigating his case, but she knew that would be short lived. 
Even now, rumors were sure to be flying. Once Skinner's memo got out, she'd 
be inundated with questions and sympathies. 

Gratefully, the elevator was empty, and she rode to the basement in silence. 
Her desktop computer was booted quickly, her email message light blinking a 
moment later. She smiled as she read the only new email.

To: All Bureau Personnel
From: Assistant Director Skinner
Subject: Assistance Needed

Special Agent Fox Mulder is in the hospital, his care being carefully 
overseen by the doctors and staff, as he fights the affects of complete 
kidney failure as a result of an on-the-job attack. Any agent willing to put 
in extra time in an attempt to resolve Agent Mulder's case and bring his 
attacker to justice is gratefully welcome to join the investigation. Please 
see my secretary or your immediate supervisor to let us know of your 
availability. Please watch for future emails that will update you on the 
condition of Agent Mulder as it changes.

Scully chuckled as she moved the email to her permanent file. Resolving the 
case wouldn't help Mulder's medical situation, but it would go a long way in 
helping his general attitude. 

*************************

Ten agents and forensic specialists squeezed into Mulder's tiny apartment, 
each under the supervision of AD Skinner. He'd intentionally brought 
different people than had participated in the first search, figuring that 
they would have no preconceived notions of where to or not to look for any 
kind of evidence. Most were currently concentrating in the kitchen, but a 
few had scattered to other corners of the apartment.

"Wow, almost nothing in his medicine cabinet," Skinner heard somebody say, 
and he wandered toward the voice, finding himself quickly standing in the 
doorway of the bathroom. It was surprisingly clean for a bachelor - Skinner 
remembered those days of his youth.

Once again the bathroom came up clear of any clues. His eyes scanned the 
room as the two agents' did likewise, finally falling on what seemed to be an 
extraneous knob coming out of the wall. "What's that?" Skinner said, 
pointing.

"What's what, sir?"

"That knob." He walked over and pulled on it, a panel tilting from the wall 
to reveal a dirty clothes hamper. "This was missed the first time, and there 
are clothes in there. Check it out. Be sure you empty all pockets."

"Yessir," they said, beginning to extract items. Skinner hadn't even gotten 
as far as the doorway when he heard a slight rip. Turning, he saw that one 
of the agents had caught the sleeve of a dress shirt on the corner of the 
opening, tearing it open.

"One of you is going to owe Agent Mulder a new shirt, I think," he said.

"Maybe it's not that bad," the agent holding the shirt muttered, searching 
the sleeve for the tear. He unrolled the cuff, and almost didn't notice as a 
piece of popcorn dropped onto the floor. "Hey, what's this?"

"Just a piece of popcorn," the second agent said, casually.

"But worth checking," Skinner added with a stern look. Then he called, 
"forensics, in the bathroom, please."

The search turned up a few other samples from the kitchen cabinets and 
refrigerator, and then they returned to the Bureau with high hopes that 
something would show up in the lab tests. 

*************************

Mulder sat impatiently in bed, looking forward to being able to leave the 
hospital later that day. The doctor had given him a schedule for dialysis 
treatments on an out-patient basis, and gone over the new requirements for 
every day living of his life.

His life . . . was that still what it was? Some things wouldn't change, of 
course. Many things. But so much would. Starting with the fact that he 
could no longer do his job the way he had been. He could go in the field - 
go out of town, even - but only so long as he was sure he'd be back in time 
for treatments. He wasn't sure that the Bureau would let him work as a field 
agent with his medical condition being what it was.

He was still alive, though, and for that he was grateful. It meant more days 
with Scully, and nights, too, if she was still of a mind. She'd been 
wonderful through this whole thing. He'd tried to thank her, but she just 
brought up all the times he'd been there for her, making her sacrifice seem 
like a minor one.

Grey didn't seem to be dealing with the situation nearly as well as either of 
them were. Until now, Mulder always believed that what Scully affectionately 
referred to as the "Mulderguilt" was exclusive to him, but now, it seemed 
that Grey was just as much a victim of it. He couldn't seem to forgive 
himself for not being able to help his brother, no matter how much they tried 
to comfort him.

Scully had gone home to collect some clothes for Mulder, leaving Grey behind 
to keep him company. The conversation had begun stilted, and eventually 
faded into nothingness, each man deeply entrenched in his own thoughts. Both 
of them were practically startled out of their skin when the door abruptly 
slammed open.

To their surprise, it wasn't one of the myriad of hospital personnel, but 
their boss, with Scully right behind him. He got to the point of his visit 
with no preamble.

"Where did you get popcorn?"

"What?!" came three voices simultaneously.

"Where were you recently that you ate popcorn?" Skinner clarified anxiously.

"Oh, my God," Scully said in shock. "I forgot all about the popcorn. It's 
such a little thing, I never thought . . ."

"We went to the movies on Friday night. Why?" Mulder answered as Scully 
joined him near the bed.

"We found a piece in your clothes hamper with traces of the chemical on it. 
Did you have any of that same popcorn, Scully?"

"No, I had my own. Mulder and I don't agree on the butter issue," she 
grinned.

"Which theater did you go to? And do you think you could identify the person 
who served you?"

"It was the Regal Cinemas on Denmark Avenue in Georgetown," Scully offered, 
unintentionally neglecting the second question. "What did you find?"

"Xylene. Strongly concentrated. Too much to have come from cleaning 
supplies by mistake." 

Grey spoke for the first time, his distinctive southern drawl awestruck. 
"You mean somebody put that on his popcorn on purpose? But why?"

Skinner looked back sympathetically. "Well, if we find out the 'why,' we'll 
be pretty sure of the 'who.' I'm going to requisition the theater's 
employee records, and then we'll see if anybody in them looks familiar."

"We'll be headed back to my place as soon as the doctor releases us, so try 
my cell first," Scully suggested. "If I don't answer, it'll be because we're 
still here."

"Which we probably will be," Mulder said sardonically. "Seeing as I've never 
seen a hospital yet that can get a person out on time." 

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon." The room was dead silent after Skinner's 
departure. 

"So, it's official. Another attempt on the life of good ol' Spooky," Mulder 
said darkly.

"An attempt, maybe . . . but a FAILED attempt, Mulder. You're still with us, 
and I, for one, am eternally grateful." Scully smiled lovingly, squelching 
the desire to crawl into bed with him.

Mulder reached up, caressing her face. "I have a lot to live for." His eyes 
moved from her to his brother, still sitting in the bedside chair. "A whole 
lot."

"Oh, geez," Grey said, grinning, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Now he's 
gettin' mushy. I'm going to take a little walk - I'll be back before they 
release you, I promise." Rising, he kissed Dana on the cheek before leaving 
the room.

"He's been uncharacteristically maudlin lately," Mulder observed. 

"Well, it seems that he inherited the Mulder family guilt complex after all." 
Even though she knew Mulder understood, she added, "he's blaming himself 
because he couldn't give you a kidney."

"How the hell does he figure that's his fault? He can't control it."

"Mulder, I've seen you take the blame for a whole lot less than that. But 
just like you, he'll go out, get some fresh air, and be back in a much better 
frame of mind. Don't worry."

*************************

Two hours later

Despite what they'd been told, the much-desired release papers still hadn't 
arrived, but Skinner had. The three of them had scanned through the employee 
files until they found a familiar youthful face, and then two slightly less 
familiar. Their boss left as quickly as he'd come, off to assign agents to 
question the teens.

Meanwhile, Grey was on his umpteenth lap around the hospital, but it wasn't 
making it any better. He'd given up trying to calm the fury in his mind, 
instead attempting to re-focus it. This wasn't an accident or a mistake. 
Somebody had intentionally done this to Fox, and if he couldn't help him 
medically, he was going to help extract some justice. Solve the case. Get 
the bad guys. Work alongside the feds and make sure they're doing everything 
they should be doing.

Anybody who masterminded the attack on Mulder - for that's how he thought of 
it - would have to have a far reach. Fox had told him only a fraction of what 
he and Scully had gone through the last several years - people with enough 
power to put them through all that would find it simple to slip a little 
toxic substance into Fox's food. After all, he was human - he had to eat. 

Suddenly, it came to him in a flash. Anybody with that far of a reach could 
control anything. And anybody. Including the hospital laboratory staff. 
Staff who could fix the results of a test . . . like a tissue-typing test.

Walking was no longer sufficient to his needs. He ran for the nearest 
elevator, pounding the button incessantly until the car finally arrived. His 
blood ran hot through his veins. He might be the answer for Fox after all, 
and those evil men probably kept them from seeing it. From knowing it. 

Trapped in the slow-moving elevator, he wished he'd decided to take the 
stairs instead. This was just too slow! Every second could count; even now, 
they could be making their getaway. 

Grey made his way to the lab, stopping strangers in the hall for directions 
when needed and leaving them stunned and confused. At last, he broke through 
the doors to the laboratory. . .

. . . to see no fewer than a dozen federal agents, their badges showing, 
going through everything. 

"I'm sorry, you can't come in here," one said, courteous enough considering 
the circumstances.

"I need to," he panted. You don't understand . . ."

"Yes, we do, Mr. MacKenzie." Grey was shocked that the stranger knew his 
name. "As soon as Assistant Director Skinner confirmed that Agent Mulder's 
condition was due to an attack, if a subversive one, he sent a team down here 
to check for infiltration. The medical specialists are in there reviewing 
all the records right now, and we're hoping for some information very soon."

"On whether the tests were tampered with," Grey said, not questioning. 

"Yes. If you would like to wait, you can do it just beyond the doors."

"I have a lot of respect for your kind, Agent, but the only thing that's 
going to get me out of here is if you place me under arrest." Then, trying 
to adapt a more gentle tone, he added, "I promise. I won't interfere."

"Very well. But one wrong move and you'll be taken out of here, understand?" 
After exchanging nods, the agent left him alone.

Grey wasn't particularly crazy about the idea, but he knew he couldn't 
possibly leave - even to go back to his brother's room. Needing to know, he 
paced and tried to stay out of the way. After several minutes, he grew tired 
and plopped into a nearby chair, his head propped on his hand.

Grey couldn't have told how long it was, so deep in thought had he been, but 
he was suddenly aware when a change in the sounds around him registered in 
his subconscious. 

"What's happening?" he asked urgently of the agents filing by him. They were 
leaving!

After the first several ignored him, one young woman took pity. "We're 
pulling out. Nothing turned up, and all the tests were valid. I'm sorry . . 
."

Her sympathy moved him. "Excuse me . . . do we know each other?"

"Not really, but you're Agent Mulder's brother, right? Somehow I had a 
feeling you'd turn up here."

"Yeah," Grey said morosely. "Bravo for me." 

"Hey, don't sell your brother or yourself short. It's not over yet. A few 
of us who consider ourselves friends are staying to leave samples."

"Do you have any idea what that entails?"

"We know. And we think it's high time that Mulder realized that not 
everybody at the bureau thinks that he's a pariah. He's a good man. And 
we'll find a match for him." She sounded so certain, for a moment, he 
believed it. "Now I'd recommend you get back to Mulder. Scully can only 
control him for so long." She smiled, and he rose to follow her from the 
room, parting ways once they were in the hall.

He returned to Fox's room just as the phone rang. Grabbing for the receiver, 
Scully's reflexes were apparently faster. "Mulder's room." Tipping the 
receiver, both Mulder and Grey were able to hear the deep voice on the line.

"Agent Scully, this is Skinner."

"Any progress, Sir?" she asked.

"We're getting there. The kids in question say that some guy paid them to 
put some stuff on Mulder's popcorn as a joke. He and his friends gave a 
description of the vial it was in, but the odds of finding it in the trash 
are slim. They're working with a sketch artist now."

"If the composite comes back looking like Krycek, I swear I'm going to kill 
him with my bare hands," Scully said, but Mulder rubbed her denim-covered 
thigh and it seemed to calm her.

"Who the hell is Krycek?" Grey asked angrily.

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't Krycek," Mulder said.

"How do you know?" Scully challenged, but Skinner, forgotten on the phone 
they both held, interrupted.

"It wasn't Krycek. Unless he's managed to age twenty years and become blond 
with blue eyes."

"That's the guy the kids described?"

"Basically, yes. We'll know more later."

"If we're not home by then," Mulder told him, "you'll be arresting ME for the 
death of that damn doctor who's taking forever signing my release papers."

A new voice entered the conversation. "The damn doctor is here," the 
physician grinned wickedly.

"Oh, gotta go," Scully muttered, hanging up the phone while Mulder spoke 
aloud.

"It's about time!" 

"I'm sorry, I got held up in surgery."

"Okay, now I'm not only impatient, but I'm jealous." All three of them 
looked at Mulder curiously. He shrugged his shoulders, "at least SOMEBODY 
found a donor." He grinned.

"Mr. Mulder, as you've heard me say before, you can lead a constructive life 
even if we never find you a match. Diabetics take insulin shots every day. 
Epileptics take Dilantin or Phenobarbital. You'll just happen to have 
dialysis treatments. And while I'd love to tell you that you'll be totally 
well some day, I can't guarantee that. But you'll be alive."

"I know," Mulder said, hanging his head. Scully knew that apologetic 
attitude. But she also knew what he didn't say. That he wouldn't be able to 
do his work.

The silence was broken when the phone rang; Scully scooped it up in a flash.

"Hello?"

"Is this Agent Mulder's room?" inquired a young-sounding female voice.

"Yes, would you like to speak with him?"

"Oh, no thank you," she replied, and Scully realized she sounded rather 
excited. "Is Grey MacKenzie there?"

"Oh, yes. Sure, hold on." Placing her hand over the mouthpiece, she held it 
out to Grey. "It's for you, and it's a woman." She smiled wickedly, and 
laughed when he actually blushed.

"Grey MacKenzie," he announced into the receiver.

"Detective MacKenzie, this is Agent Carpenter. We spoke in the hospital lab 
awhile ago?"

"Oh, yes. What is it?" Suddenly, he had a thought and it excited him. 
"Wait! Did they find a match? Among one of the other agents?"

"No, but it may not be necessary after all." She was gearing up, he could 
tell. He wished she'd just get to it.

"Agent Carpenter, if this is bad news, I wish you'd just tell me." He tried 
not to sound angry at her, but he was tired, and couldn't seem to find much 
hope.

"It's not bad news. Not really, anyway. The last agent was leaving the lab 
when he heard the supervisor talking about a worker, a member of the cleanup 
crew, who failed to show up for work this morning. He was really worried. 
They called his home to check on him - apparently he's been one of the most 
reliable employees they've had."

"And . . ." Grey muttered, trying to egg her on.

"It turns out that he's efficient, reliable, but a little on the slow side. 
Borderline retarded. When they talked with him, he was terrified, saying 
that he knew he'd get caught and lose his job. It took forever to get him to 
tell them what he could have done that was so wrong to deserve firing."

"That's very sad, but what does it have to do with me?"

"He said that he'd made a mistake. Knocked over some vials of blood in the 
lab, then got scared and replaced them with parts of other blood samples!" 
For a moment, what she was saying didn't sink in. "Mr. MacKenzie, one of 
those samples was yours! You or one of the others who were tested initially 
could still be a tissue match for your brother!"

"Oh, my God," Grey said, stunned, and Mulder and Scully watched as he went 
pale. 

"You need to gather those and get down there right away to have new samples 
taken," Carpenter said. "Is Mulder's doctor there? He needs to be informed."

Grey was stunned, but it faded into an ear-to-ear grin as he blindly handed 
the receiver to the doctor. He didn't wait for his brother or Dana to ask.

"That was one of the agents who was down in the lab earlier. They just 
discovered . . ." Suddenly, he seemed to shake off his shock. "They found 
out somebody on the cleaning crew screwed up our earlier blood samples! She 
said that we all need to be tested again - that there's still a chance for a 
tissue match."

"Oh, my God . . ." Scully unconsciously repeated Grey's earlier words. 

"You hear that, little brother? There's still a chance!"

Scully wrapped Mulder in a hug, but he didn't speak. Holding him tighter, 
she whispered in his ear. "I know you're afraid to get your hopes up, but I 
can feel it. This is going to work out for us."

Just then, Mulder's doctor hung up the phone. "Well, it looks like we've got 
a lot of testing to do, and I'll insist they do it right away. Mr. Grey, you 
and Agent Scully need to head down there right now. And, on your way, call 
your friends who had their samples taken at the same time."

"Will you be okay?" Scully asked Mulder as she squeezed his hand. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine. The sooner the better." They smiled, and Grey and 
Scully left. The doctor moved to follow. "Doc, if you'd give me a minute . 
. ."

The doctor stayed behind, and Mulder waited to speak until the door was 
tightly shut. "I need you to do a favor for me. Make a phone call."

"What is it? Wouldn't you be more comfortable with one of your friends . . ."

"No, it can't be them, but I need to know something."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Call the police department doctors in Raleigh, North Carolina. Find out if 
a man can be on active duty on the force if he only has one kidney."

"But why . . ."

"If Grey gives me one of his kidneys, he's got to know all the repercussions. 
It's got to be HIS choice, knowing all the downfalls. You've said that I'm 
in relatively no danger. He's got to have the option." Mulder was adamant, 
and the doctor was struck by depth of his concern for others. He couldn't 
think of anybody else who would consider the impact on the donor before 
himself.

"Well, if it comes to it, he will. I'll make the calls." Looking his patient 
in the eyes, he reassured him. "I promise."

"Now, I know you're eager to get out of here," he continued. "But given the 
circumstances, I'd like you to stay. At least until the test results come 
in."

"I don't mind telling you, the cabin fever is really getting to me," Mulder 
admitted. "What are the benefits of my staying."

"Mostly time. If one of the new tests comes up a match, we could begin 
prepping you immediately. If we have to track you down and wait while you 
make your way in here, it's just that much longer you have to wait."

"It took three days the first time. Just how quickly do you think you can 
convince them to do these tests?"

"The original results were nullified essentially because of a laboratory 
error. The tests don't really take three days - it takes three days for them 
to get to a particular test. This time, they'll be pushed to the head of the 
line. We'll know something in just a few hours. Two or three. It'll be at 
least an hour before your partner even gets back," he added convincingly.

"Okay, okay. Ya got me. I'll stay put and twiddle my thumbs until we get an 
answer."

The doctor observed him and how nervous he looked. "I know this isn't easy 
for you. I'll try to make your wait as short as possible." He turned and 
left, not hearing Mulder's final comment.

"I'll be right here, waiting all by myself. . ."

*************************

He knew he was doing the right thing, but Grey didn't mind admitting he was 
terrified. Lying on a bed in his brother's room, he thought how much had 
changed in less than twelve hours. 

Nobody had been more elated than he was when the doctor had announced that 
he, as expected, had been a tissue match for his brother. Curiously enough, 
Mulder himself hadn't seemed quite so excited for a man who'd, figuratively 
if not literally, been given his life back. He'd wanted a few minutes alone 
with his brother to talk, see if he could figure out what was going on, but 
Scully, Skinner, and Maggie Scully, on and off, had individually or all at 
once seemed glued to their sides. 

Grey had had to undergo a full physical and a psych evaluation, just to make 
sure that he could withstand the surgery. His medical records from the 
Raleigh PD were requested and faxed. In the end, all had been deemed to be a 
go. The surgery was scheduled for the morning, and the doctor was expected 
to come in momentarily to explain the entire thing to them both. Mulder was 
quiet, though, and not talkative. 

"I've got to take a . . ." embarrassed, Grey blushed when Maggie Scully's 
head shot up. "Umm . . . I need to use the restroom. When Dana comes back, 
promise her I didn't run off, okay?"

"I promise." As he entered the bathroom, he heard Maggie explain she was 
going into the hall for a drink from the water fountain, leaving Mulder 
alone. Peacefully alone. Grey tried to hurry.

Out in the room, Grey couldn't hear when the doctor entered.

"Good evening, Mr. Mulder. How are you feeling?"

"Did you make that call for me?" Mulder asked.

"Yes, I did, and neither you nor your brother has anything to worry about. A 
man can be either a Raleigh Police officer or an agent for the Federal Bureau 
of Investigation with only one kidney as long as it's fully functional."

Mulder looked at him, puzzled. "I didn't ask you to contact the Bureau . . 
."

"No, you didn't. But Agent Scully did."

"She did?"

"Yes, she did. She's in the hall and will be in momentarily. I already told 
her."

"Told who what?" Grey asked, emerging from the restroom. 

"Just some information that Scully needed, Bubba," Mulder responded.

"Now, Mr. MacKenzie, if you'd get into bed, I'll review the procedure with 
both of you."


Rather than getting into his own bed, Grey alit on the edge of Mulder's, 
smiling as Scully entered and sat opposite him, only closer to Fox. Her 
fingers were white so tightly was she holding his hand.

"We plan to perform the surgery first thing in the morning, about nine if 
everything goes well. You'll both be prepped, and taken into adjoining 
operating rooms so as to save as much time as possible."

"Why is that so important?" Grey asked, his concentration not straying from 
the doctor even as Maggie and Skinner entered the room.

"As you know, any surgery is inherently dangerous. In addition, I've 
reviewed Mr. Mulder's medical records and he has had negative reactions to 
anesthesia in the past. Therefore, I want to keep him under as short a time 
as possible, and you, too, in case the problem is genetic." Grey nodded his 
understanding and the doctor continued.

"I'm going to be in the operating room with Fox, and my colleague will 
perform the organ extraction from Mr. MacKenzie, but don't worry because 
she's one of the best." He addressed himself mostly to Grey at this point. 
"She'll make an approximately nine centimeter incision into your lower left 
abdomen, just about at the bottom of the rib cage. We take that one because 
it has a longer vein than the right and is easier to remove safely. Once 
it's removed, your involvement is essentially over. We'll suture the incision 
and you'll be taken to recovery. You'll probably be awake within an hour."

"How will one kidney work where we usually have two?" Grey asked.

"Your health will be unaffected, I assure you, Mr. MacKenzie. A lone kidney 
in a body enlarges slightly to take over full function. You'll never know 
the difference. Once the kidney has been flushed with saline solution and is 
ready, we'll begin Mr. Mulder's part of the surgery. We don't always, but 
given the unusual nature of the damage, I think it's highly advisable that we 
remove both of the bad kidneys. You'll have dual incisions, naturally. 
We'll remove both kidneys and replace the right with the one from your 
brother. It'll fit easily into your pelvis, where we'll join the arteries 
and veins, then connect it to your bladder. If all goes well, when we remove 
the clamps, it'll begin working right away."

"And that's the end of it? We heal up and go on as if nothing happened?" 
Mulder sounded incredulous. "It couldn't be that easy." 

"You're right. It's not quite that easy. After you come out of recovery, 
you'll be started on a regimen of immunosuppressant drugs to prevent your 
body from rejecting the new organ."

"But you said that the tissue typing matched," Skinner commented this time.

"It has, but your body," he addressed Mulder rather than Skinner, "would 
still recognize it as not its own if we didn't. The transplant process isn't 
perfect, and even with the drugs, there's a slight chance of rejection. 
You'll be on these immunosuppressant drugs the rest of your life, but 
otherwise, you WILL be back to normal. A pill once or twice a day, no 
different from thousands of other healthy people. The pills just make sure 
you stay that way. Any questions?"

Mulder spoke up first, before anybody else could even think. "Is there any 
significant danger for Grey in all this? Any at all? And don't give me that 
medicalese about there being inherent dangers in any surgery or risks of 
allergic reactions."

"Okay, Mr. Mulder. Straight information, I like that. There is, I'd say, a 
99% chance that your brother will be absolutely fine within two weeks, and 
he'll be totally normal four weeks after the surgery. We'll do pre-surgery 
tests and check his medical records to be sure the anesthesia is as 
compatible with his physiology as possible and in the offhand chance he has a 
reaction, it should be minor and result in only some nausea upon his waking."

Mulder breathed a deep sigh of relief as Scully hugged him tightly, not 
caring who was watching. The only person who was the least bit taken aback 
was Skinner, and it didn't come as much of a surprise to him either.

"What happens if he rejects?"

"If, and this is a long shot, there is a rejection, we'll give him an 
intensive treatment of medication. If the situation is not resolved, he'll 
be right back to where he is right now. No worse, at least. And hopefully 
the rejection would resolve itself and he'd be fine. Any other questions, 
anybody?" When the room was silent, he smiled comfortingly. "Well, 
gentlemen, I'd recommend you get a good night's sleep tonight because 
tomorrow is going to be a big day for both of you. The down side is that you 
can't have anything to eat after 8:00 tonight, so make your dinner count. 
And absolutely NO water or liquids after midnight. If you have trouble 
sleeping, call the nurse - I'll leave an order there for a mild sedative."

"Somehow, I don't think they're going to take advantage of that," Scully 
smiled warmly. She knew of Mulder's antagonism towards drugs, and had a 
feeling that it was something he shared with Grey. Even if he didn't, no way 
was Grey going to let his brother stay up all night alone while he sawed 
logs.

However, they were good at playing possum later that night, and fooled the 
night nursing staff each and every time they came in to check on the pair. 
Their charts read that they'd slept through the night. The charts, like the 
nurses, were in error.

By the time they were given the first round of pre-anesthesia drugs the next 
morning, they were tired enough that it hit them hard. Harder than even the 
nurse realized.

"Now you two just take it easy. I'll be back in a few minutes, and by then, 
you should be feeling those shots."

They sat for about five minutes, and then Mulder giggled. And then giggled 
again. 

Grey watched as Mulder covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes round. 
Then he giggled, too. "What's so funny, little brother?"

"It's the doctors and nurses. D'you know why they dress all in white?" 
Mulder sounded like an adorable six year old. An adorable, drugged six year 
old. 

Grey, of course, had to get in on the action. Smiling like the big eight 
year old, he made his guess, although it sounded like he was sure. "They 
wear white so you can be sure to see all the guts and blood and stuff, so 
they can be sure they get 'em all off when they wash their clothes. Y'know, 
if they wore red, there could be all kinds of blood on 'em that they miss and 
nobody would know!" He smiled conspiratorially.

"Nah, that's not why. It's all psychy . . . .psochy . . .psicky . . . in 
your mind! They know that all the 'good guy' cowboys in the old movies wore 
white - white equals good. And if they dress in white, they'll fool ya into 
thinkin' that they're good guys. Then, just when you trust 'em, bang! They 
sneak up on ya with a needle the size of Cleveland!"

"You might have a point there," Grey said, trying to sound adult. It wasn't 
working. "After all, she sure had you fooled when she was in here before!"

"Yeah," Mulder blushed. "Can you believe the size of that thing and where 
she wanted to put it?! She actually thought I was going to let her put that 
up my you-know-what! But I showed her!" he pouted.

"You're lucky she didn't go tell Dana on you! Then you'd reeeeeeealy be in 
trouble."

"I don't care," Mulder pouted. "Nobody gets to see me there but Dana. And 
when I get outta here, she's gonna, I promise you! I'm gonna take her back 
to my room and . . ." He stopped, watching Grey's eyes grow large and round. 
"What'samatter?"

"What if . . . what if what they do to you in the operation hurts your 
you-know-what?" He motioned down to his own manhood, hidden under a hospital 
gown.

"Nothin's gonna happen to me down there. Weren't you listenin' last night 
when the doc said that they'd be cutting here?" He swiped a hand 
inspecifically across his lower abdomen. 

"Yeah, but what if they slip?! They could cut somethin' mighty impu . . . 
impa . . . vital. Vital to ya as a man, y'know what I mean?" He waggled his 
eyebrows.

"Scully would never let that happen," he said, sounding almost normal for 
just a second. 

"Yeah, but she can't be in there standin' next to the guy cuttin' ya. They 
wouldn't let 'er."

"You got some bright idea, then?" Mulder challenged.

Surreptitiously, Grey's eyes scanned the room, darting back and forth like 
the old "cat" clocks their sisters had hung in their rooms as children. 
Finally, they stopped on a leather satchel propped against the table between 
the beds. "Wa's that?"

"That's Scully's laptop, but she'll KILL you if you even look at it! She 
won' even lemme carry it for her - it's like her baby! So don' touch it."

"She won't care if I jus' look! Maybe it'll gimme an idea how to save you 
from losin' somethin' other than a kidney." Mulder blinked several times as 
he watched Grey reach the mile distance between his bed and the case. He 
made three grabs before his fingers caught the handle. "Gotit!" he said, 
victorious, as Mulder shushed him.

"Sh!!!!! You wanna get us in trouble again? That nurse is gonna come back 
in here and try to stick that thing up my butt again!"

"Tha's not punishment, you baby! Ya gotta get one of those before they 
op'rate on ya sometimes. I read all 'bout it th' other day. It's a emin . . 
. anom . . enam . . . well, forget it. A ha!" he shouted victoriously. He 
dug down deep into a side pocket, his hand coming out with a blue Sharpie 
permanent marker. "This'll do the job!"

"Whatcha gonna do?" Mulder asked, watching as Grey got up on unsteady legs 
and staggered to his bed. 

"Lemme see," Grey said, yanking back the blankets and raising Mulder's gown 
before he could object to being bared to the world. "See, we just need 
t'make a little note here," he lowered the pen.

"No!!" Mulder exclaimed. "You can't write on me there! By the time they get 
THERE, it'd be too late!"

Grey raised the pen to study his unlikely canvas a little closer. "Yeah, 
you're right. . . I know!" He lowered the pen again, drawing a less-than 
straight line from one hip to the other, just above where the thick patch of 
hair began. "Hey, Fox," he added curiously. "That lady did a good job when 
she shaved your stomach - you should get her to do your face when we get done 
with all this. Maybe you won't havta shave again for a week!"

"Never mind my stomach, look at that stupid line? Nobody's gonna know what 
that means!"

"Yeah they will, 'cause I'm gonna 'splain it." He bent again, writing in 
uncertain letters along the line.

Propurty of Dana Scully - Do Not Cross!

"Grey, you don't spell property with a U! And why is it all smudged on that 
side."

"Well, is it MY fault that you didn't have enough belly for the whole thing? 
They're gonna be able to read it just fine."

"Ya think so?" Grey nodded, smiling proudly. "Thanks Grey. You're a good 
big brother, y'know? First ya give me one of your . . ." he stuttered at 
the loss for the word. "One of your inside thingies, and then you help me 
save all my man parts for Scully. Ain't nobody else gonna touch 'em except 
her, ever ever again."

They giggled at each other, Grey holding the marker as its point soaked ink 
into his hospital gown, and Mulder lying there with his nightgown up around 
his chest looking proudly at his brother. Until they heard a shriek.

"What hell are you two doing?!!" the nurse, different from the one who'd left 
a short time ago, screamed.

"We're gettin' ready for our surgery," Grey said, as if it were all perfectly 
reasonable, while Mulder nodded his head like the statue of a dog in a car's 
rear window.

Grabbing the intercom button, she called for a pair of orderlies. One 
relieved Grey of the marker and put him back in bed, ignoring the pout at the 
loss of his prize. The other took one look at Mulder's bared body and left 
the room, returning a moment later with a basin of water and an unidentified 
cake of soap.

"Don't stop until you get at least most of that ink off him. We cannot have 
him going into surgery that way," the nurse said. "Apparently, we need a 
larger dose - I'll be back in a moment."

Five minute and two slight puncture wounds to the gluteus maximus later, the 
troublesome boys were finally out of it to the point that the staff could be 
certain they'd be staying in their beds until AFTER the surgery. For once, 
she'd taken great pleasure in sticking them.

*************************

"Hey, Scully!" Mulder said weakly but joyously as the bed on which he was 
lying moved through the hall. "Are you comin' with us?"

"Only as far as the operating room," she smiled. Mulder was adorable when he 
was drugged and just the other side of silly. "I'll be waiting for you out 
here."

"Nobody's waitin' for me," said a forlorn but equally adorable voice from 
behind them. She turned to see Grey, his lip stuck out in a pout looking 
thoroughly miserable.

"We'll be waiting for you, too," Maggie said, moving to Grey's gurney. "I 
promise to be right beside you when you wake up, just as your own mother 
would if she were here." Grey smiled goofily and relaxed, closing his eyes. 


"Has anybody thought to tell his mother?" Skinner whispered to her as he 
walked beside the group.

"Grey told me his parents are second honeymooning on a cruise in the South 
Pacific. He called his sisters to let them know what was going on, but they 
couldn't come because of work. I promised him I'd keep them informed." 
Skinner looked at her with a crooked grin, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 
"Okay, I confess. I've already called them with updates a few times."

"Now THAT I believe," he said simply.

Two hours later, Grey awoke in the recovery room, groggily amazed that Maggie 
was at his side. "Ma?" he squinted blearily before she came into focus and he 
realized he'd been mistaken.

"No, it's Maggie Scully, Grey. You're in the recovery room."

He was pretty out of it, but still had certain things on his mind. "Fox?"

"He's still in surgery, and probably will be for a couple more hours. 
Everything went fine with your operation, and they brought you here as soon 
as they were done. You'll probably be in your room before Fox gets 
finished."

"No, I want to stay here until they bring him in. Need to see him," Grey 
said, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow. Maggie understood how 
close the brothers were. Fox Mulder didn't have many people who cared about 
him or whom he could lean on when he needed to, but he had Grey and Dana, and 
they were formidable together or apart.

"I'll see if I can talk them into it," she said, running gentle fingers down 
the side of his face. "Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll go talk to 
the nurses."

Meanwhile, outside the OR, Scully couldn't help but pace. She was happy that 
her Mom was looking after Grey, and Skinner had received a call to come into 
the office - something important on a case - so she was alone. And with 
nothing to distract her, her nervous energy definitely got the better of her. 


Walking to the doors of the OR, she looked intently through the tiny window, 
trying to get a glance at Mulder's surgery. She'd even unsuccessfully tried 
using her medical credentials to get permission to observe, but if she was 
honest with herself, she knew that she wouldn't be able to be objective in 
there if something went wrong. There's a very good reason that doctors 
aren't allowed to treat family, despite the number of times she'd patched up 
Mulder's minor bangs and dents.

She'd started out creating a scenario in her mind, seeing each part of the 
surgery as it was done. It had helped for awhile, surprisingly, watching as 
Mulder was anesthetized, as his vitals were monitored and his condition 
quantified until somebody brought in the valuable organ. But she couldn't 
get past the idea of slicing Mulder open with a razor-sharp scalpel. 
Splitting his tanned, smooth skin and watching as rich, dark blood welled up 
and was whisked away by a nearby nurse with a sponge. It was something she 
didn't want to imagine, so she was forced back to her pacing, and praying, 
and hoping.

It had been three and a half hours since she'd last seen her partner when a 
gowned and masked figure emerged through the swinging doors. Pulling off his 
mask, he smiled.

"I've never had a transplant go any more smoothly, Dr. Scully."

She sighed deeply, fighting back the tears of relief that wanted flow. This 
wasn't the time, nor the place.

"The last of the sutures are being placed now," he added, "and then he'll be 
moved to recovery. I know better than to think I'll keep you out of there, 
but if you'll just let us get him settled first . . ."

"I want to be there when he wakes up." Her tone brooked no argument.

"Of course. I'll send somebody to get you just as soon as he's moved. He 
won't wake up without you, I promise."

It suddenly occurred to her how it sounded, but she didn't care what the 
doctor thought. She HAD to be there for Mulder, and that was all there was 
to it.

Very shortly, she was being shown to the recovery area by a kind-faced nurse. 
The room was fairly empty, and she wondered momentarily if it was part of 
the reason she'd been allowed in. Beside one of the first beds, she 
recognized her mother, and then the bedraggled figure in the bed. He 
appeared to be fighting to stay awake.

"Grey . . ." she said. What more was there to say?

"Dana . . ." he said drowsily. "Fox . . .?"

"He's out of surgery," Scully said, noting the commotion around a bed at the 
other end of the room. Somehow, she knew that was where Mulder was being 
settled. 

"Wait a minute," a nurse said to the group working with Mulder, and there was 
more commotion as wires were unhooked. In moments, Fox Mulder was being laid 
in the bed beside his brother. Grey smiled weakly, but happily.

"Will you go to sleep now?" Maggie asked wearily, turning her attention to 
Dana. "He refused to sleep or let them transfer him to his room until he saw 
Fox."

"Apparently, stubbornness runs in the family," Scully answered, taking a seat 
beside Mulders's cot.

"If I wasn't so tired," Grey said, his grin fading quickly, "I think I would 
be offended."

"It was said with love," Scully said. "And if you don't sleep now, you won't 
be awake when Mulder finally comes to. You want that, don't you?"

Grey didn't respond, but instead simply shut his eyes and drifted away, 
relishing the gentle stroking Maggie was giving his forehead. 

"They look like such little boys," she commented.

"It takes my breath away each and every time I see Mulder like this. Not 
that I've had a lot of opportunity, but enough. You'd never think he'd been 
through everything he has."

"Not much opportunity?" Maggie grinned, continuing to stroke Grey's face. 

"We're working on it," Scully said, chagrined, and blushed a deep crimson. 

"I don't think I have to tell you, or him, how much I love Fox, do I? I 
relish being able to think of he and Grey as members of our family. I guess 
what I'm saying is, in case you don't know it already, whatever you and Fox 
do has my blessing." Maggie smiled warmly at her daughter.

"Thanks, Mom. Right now, I just want to take him home. Healthy and whole."

"Patience, Dana. That's all you need now. Patience."

*************************

Mulder had only regained consciousness for a moment in the recovery room - 
one he wouldn't even remember later - before the doctor declared him fit 
enough to be returned to his room. They'd moved Grey several minutes before, 
mostly at Scully's suggestion. They didn't want him telling them what they 
were doing wrong as they moved all the wires and tubes connected to his 
brother.

Despite a morphine drip in his IV, Grey watched carefully as Mulder was put 
in the bed beside him. It was incredible. Scully knew that he should be 
unconscious or at least incoherent from the post-surgical pain medication, 
yet he persevered. 

"Grey, he's asleep. Now why aren't you?"

"Haven't you heard? It's the responsibility of the older sibling to keep the 
younger one out of trouble," he said with a tired grin and a sparkle in his 
eyes.

"Haven't you heard?" Scully countered. "It's not the elder sibling's 
responsibility to oversee the younger, especially after they've become 
adults."

"Well," he murmurred, quieter now, the drugs finally taking hold. "I think 
you're going to have to take over for awhile, darlin'. Seems somebody 
slipped me a mickey . . ."

"And that," Scully said, smiling, "is why they call me 'Doctor' Scully." 
Turning to her mother, she took in the tired eyes. "You've been here all 
day, Mom. Why don't you go home and get some rest." At Maggie's raised 
eyebrow, she continued. "Look, they're not going anywhere, but their 
recovery will take a while. We can't afford to exhaust ourselves."

"I could say the same about you, Agent Scully," Skinner said from the 
sidelines, and she wasn't sure if she saw a glimmer in his brown eyes. She'd 
hardly realized he'd returned to the hospital until he spoke.

"Point taken," Scully hesitantly agreed. 

"Look, I need to get back to the Bureau and see what's happening on the 
investigation, so why don't I drop you off at home," he said to Maggie. 
"That way, Scully . . . I mean Dana . . . will have her car in case she needs 
it."

In seeming agreement, Maggie gathered her purse and her tote bag. She 
carefully kissed both Mulder and Grey's foreheads, then Scully on the cheek 
"I'll ask one of the nurses to bring you a dinner tray on the way out. After 
all, it's not like either one of them will be eating tonight. You might as 
well."

Despite the best of intentions, Scully found the food to be inedible, and was 
soon having a hard time focusing on the book she'd taken from her purse. It 
was by her favorite author, but even that couldn't keep her attention. It 
was more interesting to watch each and every nuance of Mulder's face for the 
slightest sign of his waking once again.

Grey watched her from under slitted eyelids for quite a while, marveling at 
what a wonder she and his brother were when they were together. Not just in 
their work, but in everything they touched and everywhere they went. He knew 
couples who had been together for thirty years who didn't have the kind of 
magic Fox and Dana had.

"Y'know, he's still going to be there if you close your eyes for an hour. 
Little gray men aren't going to come and take him away, I promise."

"You're awfully confident," she answered, smiling at him warmly. "What do 
you know that your brother doesn't?"

Grey chuckled, then groaned at the pain that shot through his abdomen. 
"Please don't make me laugh. And to answer your question, what 
self-respecting alien would want a broken-down body like mine or Fox's?" He 
studied her closely as her eyes darkened. "On the other hand, maybe you can 
think of somebody else who'd like to take him into their custody?"

He loved it when Scully blushed, and this was a killer. As mature and 
reasonable as Dana Scully was, she still had a hard time where her heart was 
concerned. But he could think of nobody better than his brother to help her 
get in touch with that most unpredictable of organs.

"Y'know, a guy could get a whole lot more sleep without all this talkin' 
going on," came a weak voice tinged with humor, and Grey saw such joy in 
Dana's face.

"Mulder. . ." she said, jumping up to take his hand and look into his eyes. 
"How do you feel?"

"Like a guy with a couple extra holes where they're not supposed to be," he 
answered, then added, "but also like a guy with a new lease on life." He 
rolled his head to take in his brother in the adjoining bed. "Thanks, bubba."

"T'weren't nothin', little brother."

"Do either of you need anything? How's the pain? I could call the nurse . . 
."

"Scully," Mulder said as strongly as he could. When she stopped and looked 
at him again, and he knew he had her attention, he answered her questions. 
"The pain is okay, there, but not too bad. I don't need the good stuff just 
yet. As for what you can do for me, the only thing right now would be a 
reduction in the number of tubes going into this battered body. We could 
start with the most embarrassing one." He knew she'd know he meant the 
catheter, but he also knew there was really no chance in getting it removed 
tonight. Still, they had to go through the motions.

"You know the doctors aren't going to do that just yet, Mulder. Hell, you're 
less than nine hours out of major surgery! For now, just relax and heal. 
Both of you need that."

"You need to sleep, too, Dana," Grey commented.

"Well, that's just too bad. I'll sleep when Mom gets back in the morning."

"Are you turning down an opportunity to share this luxurious adjustable bed 
with me, Agent Scully?" Mulder asked jokingly.

"For now. But once you're healed, I make no promises."

*************************

A little over two weeks later, they found themselves in a very familiar 
position, only this time there were TWO anxious patients waiting to be 
released.

Grey had, naturally, healed faster than his brother, and actually would have 
been released a few days earlier if he hadn't insisted on staying until he 
and Mulder could leave together. Scully smiled, remembering the expression 
on his face when he realized that he didn't feel any differently inside after 
losing a major organ. It had been somewhere between shock, amazement, and 
utter relief.

Mulder had taken a little longer to bounce back. His incisions had healed 
remarkably uneventfully, and if he was still slightly sore and off his feed, 
it was a minor complication. She had every intention of keeping both men in 
line until they were back to one hundred percent.

It seemed like they spent half their lives waiting for medical personnel. 
Grey had actually managed to dress in one of his looser pairs of jeans and a 
T-shirt, while Mulder, less healed, opted for a pair of baggy sweats and a 
sweatshirt. In deference to his sutures, he'd returned the snug boxer-briefs 
to his athletic bag unworn.

Maggie stood silently in the shadows, relieved that this latest ordeal was 
finally drawing to a close. It seemed like one crisis just preceded an even 
more serious one with her daughter or her partner. They never just got to 
relax. Now that they'd gotten past this one, she prayed it would be the 
last.

When Walter Skinner walked in, they all tried not to appear too disappointed 
that it wasn't a member of the staff with the longed-for release forms. 
Despite their efforts, Skinner himself looked less than pleased.

"I thought I was the only one who put that look on your face, sir," Mulder 
joked.

"I wish, Mulder. There's been a development in the investigation in what 
happened to you."

"A development? That sounds oddly without resolution."

"Well, it's not over yet, but it's starting to make sense. Grey, do you know 
who Thomas Santone is?"

"Sure," Grey responded quizzically. "He's the leader of the largest 
narcotics ring in North Carolina. I was on the case under cover when Mark 
got word to me that Fox was sick. The only reason the investigation 
continued after I pulled out was because we had a second office on the 
inside. I didn't even know about her until I talked to the department the 
other day."

"Yes, well, it seems that she was okay, but you were made early on. Your 
partner," Skinner referred to his notes, "Mark Preston, got word from the 
second agent as soon as she found out that they'd arranged to 'get you out of 
their hair.'" He looked at Grey with pity. "They didn't want it said they'd 
killed a cop, so they arranged for Mulder's poisoning. Or drugging, or 
whatever you want to call it. I faxed the composite made from the theater 
employees' description and Preston ID'd it as one of Santone's group. They 
did their homework - if you hadn't been able to be a donor, they knew you'd 
still insist on staying with your brother. And if you were, all the better. 
By the time you got back to Raleigh, they'd have packed up and moved their 
operation out of there."

"So this was done to Fox intentionally - just to get me off a case?" Grey's 
voice was bewildered, but the scorn also grew with each word. None of them 
expected him to add, "You mean this was ALL because of me. Because Fox is my 
brother?"

"I'm afraid so," Skinner responded.

"This is in no way your fault," Mulder said sternly, just as Scully began to 
speak herself.

"You can't help what some evil people do, Grey," she soothed, but Grey's 
self-disdain only grew.

"Fox would be safe now if it weren't for me!"

"Fox IS safe now . . . BECAUSE of you. We all accept the hazards of doing 
the work we do." Mulder looked thoughtful. "You know how many times you've 
been endangered by the X-Files as much as I do. Do I need to quote you 
specific instances?" Grey's eyes were on his shoes, but he gave a single 
nod. "So just call this balancing the scales."

Scully smiled, using a finger to lift Grey's chin. "If penance is what you 
seek, you can consider yourself Mulder's official guardian while he recovers 
at my place. I can't do everything and watch after him for escape attempts 
as well."

Grey nodded, smiling in agreement, and Maggie gave an approving nod. She'd 
planned to offer her services to help oversee the recovery of the two men, 
but it was obvious that Grey needed this, to cleanse his conscience if 
nothing else.

"Just one more thing," Grey asked, turning to Skinner. "Have they taken down 
Santone's group yet? 'Cause if they haven't, I wanna be there."

"It went down just this morning. The DA hasn't filed any charged yet 
regarding Mulder's situation, but they've got enough drug-trafficking charges 
to send them up for multiple life sentences. Some of the underlings are 
singing, but so far, nobody's confessed to this."

"Well, they'd better PRAY they don't get out while I'm still around, or I'll 
put them in the hospital myself." Nobody could remember hearing Grey speak 
with such anger.

"You are NOT going vigilante, Grey," Mulder attempted to soothe. "All it 
does is get you into trouble." Scully questioned that this was her partner 
speaking so rationally. She knew he'd be of the same mind as Grey if their 
situations had been reversed.

"Yeah, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better!"

"Glad to hear you're feeling better," the doctor said as he entered the room, 
misinterpreting the last few words Grey had said.

"Nothing personal, Doc, but I won't feel 'better' until I'm outta here," 
Mulder joked, with Grey nodding his own agreement.

"Well, then," the doctor addressed both men. "I see no reason to delay you 
any further. Your last kidney function tests came out perfect, your 
incisions are healing nicely, and since you have your own private physician 
to keep an eye on you for the rest of your recovery, I feel confident it's 
safe to release you both."

"Thank God!" Grey uncharacteristically exclaimed, inciting laughter from the 
rest and a groan from Mulder when it pulled on his stitches. Two orderlies 
arrived pushing wheelchairs that the brothers were only too willing to use in 
order to escape their prison.

There was no way that either of the men was going to get into the back seat 
of a two-door car, so Scully had signed out a four-door fleet sedan from the 
Bureau motorpool for the ride home. It was disgustingly plain black, and she 
felt like a fictional MIB climbing behind the wheel of the tank. She'd 
thought that they'd retired all the oh-so-obvious cars in the motorpool, but 
this one had slipped through. She was grateful, though. It allowed Mulder 
and Grey to go home in comfort.

Skinner, who'd offered to ride along and return the car to the Bureau, made 
the fourth passenger, but his presence didn't intimidate them. Still, Grey 
was uncharacteristically quiet, and both Mulder and Scully realized it.

"And here they always said southern boys were so friendly," Mulder said, 
trying for at least a smile. For his part, Grey tried, but couldn't quite 
get by his true feelings.

"Yeah, and they always taught us that northern boys were smart. Ya never 
know how wrong stereotypes can be." He winked at Scully in the rear view 
mirror, and she resolved that he would be over any residual guilt before he 
left her apartment.

Arriving home, she quickly realized that, while she knew what she'd planned, 
Mulder and Grey did not. Knowing of the simple full-size bed which she had in
her spare room, Mulder commented about the unlikelihood of he and Grey 
sharing it and offered to sleep on the couch.

"Putting the two of you in one room was never my intention," she noted with a 
smile, then added under her breath, "you'd have the entire building down 
around our ears before the first day was out." She resumed speaking to them. 
"Grey, you get the guest room - it's all made up and ready for you. Mulder, 
you'll sleep in my room. I'm shorter, so I'll sleep on the couch."

Grey nodded and went off in search of the guest room and a nap, knowing that 
he was abstaining from the small disagreement that would ensue over Scully's 
plan.

"Scully, you don't have to sleep on the sofa, you know. There's plenty of 
room in your bed, and it's not like we're strangers. Hell, if this hadn't 
happened, we hopefully would have shared that bed several times by now." He 
looked at her lasciviously.

"Exactly," she said, her eyes downcast. "I'm just making this decision for 
your health. I'm not sure I could lie in that bed beside you and not try to 
make it more. And you're not healed enough yet for that."

At her admission, Mulder's smile grew wide and devilish. "Why Scully . . . 
are you coming on to me?"

She swatted him carefully yet playfully on the behind. "If I have to answer 
the question, then I'm not doing it right. Go get yourself settled in. 
There's an empty drawer in the dresser for your stuff. I'm going to start 
dinner."

"It's only 4:30, Scully. Isn't that kind of early?"

"Not that I'd expect a bachelor like you to know it, but it takes more than 
five minutes and a microwave to make a decent meal." Mulder cringed a little 
but walked away still holding onto his grin.

When she went to check on them twenty minutes later, she was amused to find 
them both asleep. For all their macho vibrato, both bodies were still 
healing.

*************************

"Dana, if meals like this are the norm in this house, I may just have to stay 
a little longer than I'd anticipated," Grey said around a mouthful of stuffed 
shells. 

"Well, as much as I'd like to take full credit, it's really nothing. The 
shells come frozen. Pour a jar of sauce over them, bake, and wah-la."

"Well, you can 'wah-la' for me anytime." He looked to Mulder, who was 
picking over his food. He had eaten a fairly decent amount, but not nearly 
what his brother had. "What do you think, Fox?"

"Scully and I fully expect to wah-la for each other for many years to come," 
Mulder grinned, locking eyes with Scully across the table. Despite the 
brazen double entendre, Scully was amused to see his face had grown red at 
the words.

"I'm not sure we're talkin' about the same kind of cookin' there, little 
brother," Grey laughed. And you're only up to one kind at the moment." 

"Well, that is one thing you're right about." He looked to Scully, and the 
smoldering in his eyes had dimmed. "Are you going to need some help with the 
dishes?"

But those eyes that always spoke volumes did so again. She was concerned. 
"No, the cleanup will be quick. Why don't you go watch something on the TV, 
read, or nap." Then her tone turned sardonic. "I know you don't recognize 
the concept, but that's called resting."

"Very funny," he smiled. Slowly rising, he gave her a peck on the forehead 
before heading for the couch. Grey held back just a moment to see what 
Dana's preference would be. He was well enough to help with the dishes if 
she wished, but he could also keep Fox company if she would like. Without 
having to be asked, she let him know what she wanted.

"Why don't you go, too, Grey. Mulder's going to have a hard time finding 
something in MY tape collection that strikes his fancy." 

Pushing away from the table, he made his way into the livingroom, surprised 
to find Fox reclined on the couch, his head pillowed on the arm at one end. 

"Comfy, bro?" Grey asked, grinning, but he couldn't hide the worry in his 
eyes.

"Scully has the second best sofa on the eastern seaboard," Mulder mumbled.

"Let me guess where the best one is," he laughed, remembering a few occasions 
when he found Mulder sleeping on his couch. "You want me to put in a movie?"

"Sure, anything that's not a chick flick is good for me."

By the time the opening credits were through, Mulder had fallen asleep, and 
Grey and Scully watched the remainder of the movie in silence, whispering 
only when necessary, until the tape ran out a few hours later. Dana yawned, 
taking in the sleeping Mulder and dozing Grey in the armchair. The sound of 
the VCR rewinding brought Grey out of his lethargy. "Wha . . . . what's 
happening?"

"Movie's over, Grey. I think it's bedtime."

"So why don't you go to bed?" he yawned.

"I would, but somebody's sleeping in my bed." She eyed Mulder lovingly.

Standing and going to the sleeping figure, Grey shook a shoulder gently. 
"Hey, Fox, bedtime. Wakey wakey."

"Huh?" Mulder said groggily.

"It's time to go to bed, little brother. And that means you've got to get up 
and move into the bedroom."

"Oh, right," Mulder said, rolling to sit and then rising carefully. He 
looked at Scully, then put his arms around her briefly. "Night, Scully. 
Sweet dreams." He kissed her on the forehead.

The two men walked down the short hall together, drawing to a stop in front 
of the bathroom door. "Hey, you want first dibs?" Grey asked, motioning to 
the room.

"Nah, you go ahead," Mulder said, moving again towards Scully's bedroom. 
"I'm just going to turn in."

*************************

"Breakfast's on!" Scully called early the next morning. She heard motion 
from the bedrooms and wondered who would be out first for her special French 
toast. If she'd known what was happening in her bedroom, she would never 
have stayed in the kitchen.

"Hey, Fox. What's takin' so long?" Grey stood in the doorway, watching his 
brother rise slowly.

"Tired. Guess I didn't sleep very well." He began to stand up, dropping 
back down when he found himself suddenly too weak. It did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Give me a hand." Grey pulled Mulder to a standing 
position, but kept a grip on him when he began to sway. "I'll get my legs 
under me in a second. Let's head for the bathroom for starters."

They walked together to the door, where Mulder went on on his own. While he 
seemed to have his feet under him now, Grey stood by - just in case.

Five minutes later, Mulder had still not emerged, and Grey began to really 
worry. He knocked twice. "Hey, you okay in there?"

When there was no response, he turned the knob, and when the door opened 
without resistance, he entered slowly. 

"Damn!" He ran to Fox's side where he stood over the toilet bowl, a white 
knuckle grip on the nearby vanity the only thing keeping his brother on his 
feet. He was nearly bent in two, the sweats he'd been wearing down around 
his ankles. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently, pushing a shoulder under 
Mulder's arm to support him in standing erect.

"Not sure," Mulder said, still obviously weak. "Hot, tired . . ."

"Let's get you back to bed," he said, pulling up the sweats one-handed and 
then leading him back to Scully's bed. "Dana, get in here now!" He tried to 
keep the upset tone from his voice, but it came through loud and clear. 
Faster than he believed possible, she was there, watching, as he laid Mulder 
down on the bed.

"Mulder, you look horrible!" she exclaimed, rushing to him. Touching his 
cheek, she grew even more alarmed. "You're burning up. Enough macho, what 
are you feeling exactly?"

Mulder sighed deeply before managing words. "Hot. Tired. When I was in the 
bathroom, it was hard to breath, but then it got better."

"When was the last time you urinated, Mulder?"

"Umm . . . last night before dinner. Not much, though."

"Do you have any pain?" 

"Yeah, stomach. But not near the stitches. Thought it might be a little 
infected, so I was careful to clean them really well last night. Lotta good 
that did, huh?" He smiled weakly.

"Dana, what is it? You know what's wrong, don't you?"

"We need to get him to the hospital. Grey, call Mulder's doctor - the number 
is on the pad by the phone on the end table - and tell him that we're on our 
way in. Tell him . . ."

"What, Dana?!"

"Tell him I think Mulder's rejecting."

Grey stood, stunned for a moment. Finally, "oh, my God. I'm on my way."

"No. . . Scully . . ." Mulder begged. "It can't be that. . . . Maybe it's 
just the flu. . . . Indigestion . . . Bad cheese in the shells last night . 
. ."

"And if it is any of those things, I'll thank God and bring you right back 
here. But we can't take the chance, Mulder. I won't risk losing you."

"Don't wanna go back on dialysis . . ."

"Even if you are rejecting, it doesn't mean you won't be able to recover from 
it. Reversal of rejection is possible, but only if I get you some help now!"

"Then let's go," Mulder said in agreement, making a super-human effort to get 
up and put one foot in front of another.

Before he'd gone four steps, Grey was back by their sides. "Doctor says he'll 
meet us there, but he said it would be faster to drive him than to wait for 
an ambulance if he's able to be moved."

"Not moved . . ." Mulder managed as Grey took on part of his weight from 
Scully. "Move . . . on my own."

"Well, Mr. Macho," Scully said warmly. "Let's get you out to the car."

Grey had argued about driving, but Scully didn't think he was long enough out 
of the hospital to be behind the wheel. He did manage to convince her that he 
was fit enough to slide into her back seat, which he did with alacrity once 
Mulder was settled in the passenger seat. While Dana drove, he used her cell 
phone to call the local police and let them know that a federal agent was 
being rushed to the hospital so that they wouldn't interfere with the 
speeding car. It was something about which Scully hadn't thought until she 
heard Grey making nice with the officer in charge.

A crew was waiting for them when they pulled up to the emergency entrance. 
Before Scully could even park the car and get back inside, they had a 
large-bore-needle IV running into her partner. As she entered his cubicle, 
Mulder's doctor drew up by her side. 

"What do we have here, Agent Mulder?"

Before Mulder could answer, Scully responded. "He's feverish, has been very 
tired and has abdominal pain. I was worried about rejection."

"Has he been taking his meds."

"Like clockwork - I wouldn't have it any other way." 

"Mulder, when was the last time you had a significant urination?" He spoke 
directly to the patient; this wasn't a question Scully could answer for him.

"I'm not sure . . ." he managed, and it was obvious that he was having a hard 
time talking. He was infinitely grateful when the medical staff stopped 
asking him questions, even if it did mean more poking, prodding, and a rather 
embarrassing harvesting of a urine sample. 

Before that was begun, Scully and Grey were relegated to the waiting room, 
where Grey sat uncomfortably and Scully paced. And paced.

Some time later, the doctor finally came out to talk to them.

"Dr. Scully, Detective MacKenzie . . ."

"Yes, how is he? What's going on?"

"Well, the bad news is that Agent Mulder is suffering acute rejection of the 
transplanted organ. The oral immunisupressants aren't working for him at the 
current time."

"So that's it? What will they do? Will they have to remove the kidney? I 
can't believe we've been through all this for nothing." For the first time 
since she'd known him, Grey sounded near tears.

"Not necessarily - at least, not yet. There is a brand new drug I'd like to 
try called Thymoglobulin that's shown to have tremendous success in reversing 
just this kind of situation. With your approval," he looked to Scully, then 
to Grey, "I'd like to start him on a routine right away. We'll give it to 
him daily for seven to fourteen days. Hopefully, by the end of that period 
if not sooner, the rejection will have reversed itself."

"I haven't heard of this new drug, but I trust that you know what you're 
doing," Scully said hopefully. "Let's give it a try."

"I agree, too. If we can help his odds, let's go for it."

"Okay, let's see if we can't let him keep his new kidney. We've moved him 
into Room 932 if you want to go see him. He'll be coming to any time, and 
the nurse should be in momentarily with his first dose." The doctor looked 
at them warmly, then left them there.

Grey began to lead Scully toward the elevator, subconsciously guiding her 
with his hand on her lower back as he'd seen his brother do what seemed like 
a thousand times before. Suddenly, she pulled away from him.

"Why don't you go on up. I'll be with you in just a minute."

"You going to call your mom?" he asked, expecting an answer in the 
affirmative. The answer was not what he anticipated.

"No. I just need . . ." She swallowed deeply, and her eyes locked on his. 
"I'm going to stop in the chapel for a bit. Tell Mulder . . . Tell him I had 
to powder my nose."

Draping an arm around her shoulders, he kissed her temple. "I will, but he'd 
understand, Dana. He knows your beliefs, and he even counts on them."

"I don't know, but I do hope they come through for me this time."

"We don't gotta hope they will, darlin'. We gotta BELIEVE they will," he 
said, releasing her. 

"I'll see you upstairs."

"Feel free to speak for me, too, 'kay? I'll go keep Fox company."

"You bet."

*************************

Four days later, Scully didn't see much difference from when she'd seem him 
for the first time back in a hospital bed that night. Medication fought pain 
and fever, but Mulder was and had continued to be lethargic. How much of 
that came from the medication and how much from the rejection, nobody seemed 
willing to commit.

Some days, she felt like she spent half her life at a hospital bedside and 
the other half in a basement office at the Bureau. At this point, she would 
have been thrilled to have been in the dingy hovel just so long as Mulder was 
there with her. 

The nurses came and went frequently, checking vital signs and taking samples 
of various bodily fluids, often to the irritation of their patient. She 
wanted to ask him if he was feeling any different - any better - but she was 
afraid. Afraid of the answer.

After stopping in at the hospital chapel, Scully had called her mom, who had 
promised to stop in the following day, and had visited daily ever since. 
Skinner had also visited a few times, but it was Scully and Grey who kept 
vigil, despite the number of times Mulder tried to convince them to go home 
for rest and food.

All three of them were nearly nodding off when there was a new presence in 
the room.

"Good evening, Agent Mulder," the doctor said with a smile.

"Where ya been, Doc?" Mulder asked as Scully tried to straighten from her 
slouched position.

"Had sicker people to worry about," he said, and they were all too cautious 
to hope. "Mulder, you like that new kidney?"

"Ummm . . . yeah, I think so."

"Well, it looks like you're going to get to keep it." Scully and Grey both 
jumped up, excited. "The Thymoglobulin is doing the job, and the rejection 
is being reduced even better than we hoped."

"But you said that it would take seven to fourteen days before we knew," Grey 
stated, confused.

"I said that he'd have to be treated for seven to fourteen days. But you can 
tell much sooner whether it's working, as it seems to be. At the rate you're 
recovering," he addressed Mulder again, "you should be back to normal by the 
ten-day mark."

"Will I still have to take the immunosuppressants every day?"

The doctor looked aggravated. "Agent Mulder, you may as well get used to it, 
because nothing is going to stop that - especially this little incident. 
Those pills are a part of your life from now on - absolutely vital."

"When can I go home?"

"Mulder . . ." Scully warned, but she loved this about him, among everything 
else. 

The doctor laughed.

"You do like to rush things, don't you. Well, we need to keep you here for 
awhile. The medication is fantastic, but it can cause side effects. We need 
to watch out for them, and you could miss them at home."

"Side effects like what?" Scully asked.

"Nothing life-threatening if caught early enough. Fever, infections, and 
thrombocytopenia - the reduction of platelets. That can lead to bleeding and 
we don't want that."

"No, I'd prefer to avoid that if I could," Mulder joked.

"Good. Hang in there, Mulder, and this time next week you may be home - and 
home free."

Mulder tried to thank the physician, but his voice was muffled in the two 
pairs of arms that were suddenly wrapped around him.

*************************

*******************

"Mulder, I know it's your first night out since your recovery, but we can't!" 
Despite her words, Scully giggled as they stumbled into her apartment.

"I think I more than deserve this, and we've waited so long," Mulder 
answered, his voice lascivious. 

"I can't believe what you tried in the movie theater!"

"You didn't like it?" Mulder asked innocently. He could just as easily have 
been asking about a birthday gift.

"That's not the point," Scully responded, frustrated. "It would have gotten 
us arrested!"

"Scully," Mulder said, more seriously now. "I love you. I don't care who 
knows. They could put it on CNN and I'd be perfectly happy."

"I feel the same way," she said, taking his hand. "But what you wanted to do 
would only be fitting for the Playboy Channel."

"So, we're home now. Home . . . privacy . . . safety . . . anonymity," he 
said, circling behind her and pressing seeking lips to her neck at the pulse 
point. "What's stopping us now?"

Scully chuckled, feeling it vibrate through Mulder's lips against her skin. 
"In case you've forgotten, you brother is right in the spare bedroom! He 
doesn't leave for Raleigh until morning."

"He was married, Scully. He knows how it's done."

"Well, I'm a doctor, and so do I - that doesn't mean I want a front-row seat 
for somebody else's participation in the event."

"He's sound asleep by now," Mulder said, pulling her by the hand. "Come on, 
Scully. I want to love you. To make love to you. I've wanted it for seven 
years."

"You've been hot for me for that long?"

"As long as I've known you, but it's not just 'hot'. Sex . . . making love . 
. . it's more than just physical for us. It's an unparalleled sharing of 
ourselves. It's letting down every single barrier and laying everything you 
are at the other person's feet. I want to give that you to, Scully. I want 
to share it with you."

"Oh, Mulder," Scully said, kissing him. "Don't ever think that I don't love 
you or want you. It was easier to control when we weren't with each other so 
often, but once we started officially dating, I thought about it every time 
you were near. But I'm not comfortable with having our first time be with 
your older brother in the house. Would you want it if Bill, Jr., was in that 
guest room?"

"No," Mulder stated. "But only because, if he ever suspected what we 
planned, he'd beat the shit out of me before we got past first base. Grey 
loves you, and he loves the idea of you and me together. He knows you're 
good for me."

"He knows we're good for each other - I can't argue with that."

"Look, I'll prove how sound asleep he is. I'll go look in on him." His eyes 
moved from where they stared at the guest room door and were captured by her 
own a moment before their lips follows suit. She pulled him closer, melding 
herself to him. "I thought . . ."

"Sometimes, Mulder," Scully said, backing toward her room without breaking 
their kiss, "we both think entirely too much."

And in the next room, Grey stared at the ceiling as he remembered fondly the 
kind of love a man and a woman who were meant for each other could share. 

THE END!!

Additional Notes: By now you know that I owe an incredible debt of gratitude 
to Dawn for allowing me the use of Grey MacKenzie, who originated in and for 
her Blood Ties Stories. Please note, however, that this story is written 
completely outside of the Blood Ties universe. I just stole the idea of 
Mulder's brother, and couldn't think of a better one than Grey. Betcha 
thought Samantha was going to materialize, huh? <g>