87 Shades of Black
By Slippin' Mickeys
red_phile@yahoo.com

CLASSIFICATION: A, V, MSR

RATING: R

SUMMARY: When, once again, the most important choices of Mulder and
Scully's lives are made for them, they learn that sometimes the best way to
take back control is to simply fade to black.

KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance
 
SPOILERS: None.

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. And you know what? They probably never will
be. Damn.

ARCHIVE: Ask, and I'll most likely give you permission. Trust me.

FEEDBACK: Is the great big ole box of Hamburger Helper to my 50lbs of
low-self-esteem-uncooked-ground-beef.  red_phile@yahoo.com

XxXxXxXxXxX


Patton once said, that the point of war was not to die for your country, it
was to make the other bastard die for his. 

I think I'd make a good soldier.

I've always been good at sacrifice.
 
I've spent the majority of my adult life sacrificing one thing or another
in my quest. 

But yesterday, I was forced to sacrifice even that. I don't think I even
considered not doing it. Scully is the only one person on God's green earth
that I'd put above everything else. That I'd sacrifice the last 12 years of
my life for. 

And if I had to, I'd do it again.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The ringing of the phone interrupted a swallow of some of the most putrid
coffee I've had in a really long time. I snatch the mug, which must have
been from yesterday and spit it back in. I grab the phone, nearly gagging.

"Ugh," I say, trying to keep from throwing up into the receiver, "Mulder."

"Agent Mulder, are you all right?" Skinner asks, sounded a little
concerned, but more perturbed.

"Fine, sir," I answer, "what can I do for you?"

"I need to see you and Agent Scully in my office sometime before noon
today. Bring your outstanding 302."

"Sir?" I ask, confused. 

"What is it, agent?" He asks me.

"Agent Scully is on vacation. Are you not aware of that?"

There is a pause, and then, Skinner replies, "No, no I was not aware of
that."

I'm detecting more than a little agitation in his tone of voice. 

His assistant must be at an appointment or something. Who said secretaries
weren't the lifeblood of the office?

"Hold on a second," he says into the phone, sighing.

"Mulder," he goes on, a moment later, "I have no such information
pertaining to Scully taking any time off… what are you up to?"

"What am I *up to*, sir?" I ask back, getting a little perturbed myself.

"Scully rarely asks for time off, Mulder, and when she does, she is
*always* certain to give me notice. I'm wondering if you've got her out on
one of your damn fool errands on the FBI's time, that you don't want me to
know about…"

At first, I am a little pissed off, but very quickly it wears off. It *was*
unlike Scully to take time off, especially in the manner in which she did.

"No sir, nothing like that," I quickly brush off, "you really don't have
any notification from her?"

"No," he says, pausing, "she really did tell you she was going on vacation?
In person?"

I don't answer, my heart skipping a beat, and then pounding loudly, and
quickly in my chest.

"I have to go," I say, still holding the receiver to my ear, not quite sure
of what to do.

"I'm coming down there." He says, closing the connection. 

As soon as I hang up the phone, it rings again.

"Sir?" I answer, "What are—"  

"Fox Mulder?" A voice, very different from that of Skinner's comes through
the other end, catching me totally off guard.

"Yes," I say tentatively.

"Listen very carefully and do exactly as I say."

Oh, shit. That one sentence is *never* a good start to any conversation.

"Fuck," I whisper, then louder, "go on."

"I'm sure that by now you've ascertained that the beautiful Agent Scully is
in fact, *not* on vacation."

"Yes," I lie.

"Good. Then all you need to know, is that we have her, and to get her back,
safe and sound, there are a few things that you're going to need to do."

The blood rushes out of my face. 

No. Not again. Not now.

I'm only left to wonder who has her this time, whatever they demand, I'll
undoubtedly do it.

"Yes," I barely manage to whisper into the phone.

"Today is Tuesday," the voice went on, "you received a phone call from her
Friday night telling you of her vacation plans."

I nod, hoping he can hear it.

He seems to, and continues.

"Since then the lovely Agent Scully and I have been working quite hard to
come to an understanding, a compromise if you will. But first we had to do
a little work on her…"

I found my voice. 

"What did you do to her?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Don't get excited Mr. Mulder, I was going to say her self esteem. It seems
she has a low opinion of her place in the scheme of things, or should I say
her place in your scheme of things."

"I want to speak with her…NOW!"

"All in good time Mr. Mulder, but before I put her on the line, I want you
to think about what it would be like if you never had the chance to hear
her voice again…think carefully Mr. Mulder. Your future, and hers depends
on it."

I open my mouth to demand to talk to her again, but I stop. There's
something about this that I have a really bad feeling about.

"What are you trying to say?" I ask.

"What I'm saying Mr. Mulder, is that in order to see Dana Scully again,
there's something you're going to have to agree to. Something you're not
going to like at ALL. I'm just giving you some time to think before you
make a rash decision that you'll end up regretting. I'm just looking out
for your wellbeing." 

"You don't give a shit about my regrets," I sneer into the phone, "OR my
wellbeing." 

"Not true," the voice answers back, "but lets get to business. Ms. Scully
is looking hungry."

"Hungry?!" I shout, enraged.

"Thirsty, too, if you really want to know…"

My voice calms somewhat, just as my blood grows hotter.

"What is it you want, you fucking bastard?" 

"You have to quit," the voice says simply.

"Quit what?" I ask, confused.

"Everything." It answers. "Your job. Your quest. Your life. You have to
cease and desist searching for anything that pertains to the X-Files,
Mulder. You have to stop now, and swear on your life, *and* Agent Scully's
that you'll never start again."

This can't be happening. The X-Files have been my life. I threw myself into
them heart and soul. But when confronted with this, I find that my heart
isn't invested in them quite that much. My heart and soul have belonged
somewhere else for quite some time. 

I hesitate a little before I answer.

"I have one condition." I say.

"There will be no condi-"

"I HAVE ONE CONDITION." I interrupt, my statement leaving room for no
argument.

"Go on."

"If I give up the X-Files, if I give up everything that has to *do* with
the X-Files, I *won't* give up Agent Scully. If you're including her in
your little plan, I won't agree to it. I'll carry on with my work even
harder than before, and I'll kill you. And if you do anything to her, I'll
kill you slowly."

There is a momentary pause on the other end.

"Mulder," he says in a tone of voice I'm not sure I like, "I wouldn't have
it any other way."

I hate where this has been, but I *really* don't like where it's going.

"This will be very simple, Agent Mulder," the voice went on, "as soon as
we're off the phone, tender your resignation, taking nothing from your
office, and come directly to the FDR memorial. You'll find further
instructions at Eleanor."

"Fine," I say, "now I want to talk to Scully."

"Very well…" the voice says, I can hear a slight shuffle on the other end.

"Mulder?"

The voice is scratchy and rough, but undoubtedly Scully's. 

"Scully?!?!" I shout, only to have the phone taken away, and his voice back
on the other end.

"There." He says.

"You… BASTARD!" I shout into the phone, loosing all the sanity I'd held
until just a moment ago, "what in hell makes you think… WHO ARE YOU?!"

"Mr. Mulder…"

A new voice now. A voice I know. And hate. I can smell his stinking,
smoking breath from here. 

"If you've hurt her," I hiss, more venomous and low than I've ever heard
myself speak, "so help me God-"

"Mulder," he interrupts, "if you don't do exactly as I've instructed, she's
dead. Or at least mine to do with whatever I wish. You have two options.
Your life and hers, which even *I* can see have become hopelessly
intertwined, or lonely and employed…"

I don't answer, sinking down into my chair, deflated. I'm running out of
time here, in more ways than one, and I know it.

"There is no God, Mulder," he goes on, "*I'm* God."

I hang up, looking around the office for what I know to be the last time.
I'll do as the old man says. There never really was any question anyway. 

I scribble out a quick letter of resignation, a little unbelieving of what
I'm doing, what I'm throwing away, even as sure as I am of doing it.

I nearly run into Skinner as he enters my office.

I shove the letter, without even an envelope into his chest and leave, at a
near run, toward my car.

"Hey!" I hear him shout after me, "Mulder!" 

It could have been the voice of the Almighty himself, and I still wouldn't
have stopped.

XxXxXxXxXxX

If you were to have asked me 6 years ago, 4 even, if I would be doing what
I'm doing right now, I would have laughed in your face, and buried my nose
in another X-File. 

Even now, I'm having a hard time contemplating what the hell I've done, and
am doing. Hell, I was plugging along down the well-trodden road of my quest
not an hour ago.

I've since given it up. All of it. 

I'll wake up any minute now.

I know it.

I will…

I won't.

Shit.

But the little part of my brain that I'd thought I'd long since killed, the
part that would keep it's eyes on a sunset even if a UFO zipped through it,
told me to forget all of that. To reflect on what I've just done, later. To
stay focused on one thing right now. The most important thing.

Scully.

I step on the gas a little harder.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I run into my apartment, praying that I didn't erase her message. I knock
down two chairs and smash my shin on the coffee table in the process.

The light on the machine is blinking up at me. 

Thank God.

I push the button and listen to her message again. I shouldn't be wasting
time doing this, but I have to be sure. I have to know if I could have
helped her before it came to this. I'm a sucker for self-condemnation. 

"Mulder? Mulder it's me. I'm… going to be on vacation for the next… few
days. I'll be visiting my brother. I'll call you when I get back. Bye."

Dammit. I'm such a fucking idiot. How could I not have heard the slight
quaver in her voice before? 

It may have come off sounding normal to the average listener, but *I*
should have known. 

How could I have been so stupid?

I leave the machine to rewind, and am in the elevator before it's done.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I had to park a ways away, I ran almost the entire way to the memorial, and
I have to bend over double just to catch my breath. 

Now where the hell is Eleanor?

I'm weaving in and out of people, and I'm sure I've been in at least 3
pictures, when I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Mulder." 

I turn slowly, resisting the urge to take out my gun and blow his fucking
head off.

He motions for me to head toward him, and I walk slowly in his direction,
hoping the gaze I'm glaring at him really will bore a hole in his head.

"Krycek," I say as I get close to him, "you fucking son of a bitch."

"Mulder, don't you have anything more original than that?" He says,
starting to walk with me toward a more secluded area of the monument, near
the water, "I would think with your education you could come up with
something better."

"Why waste adjectives Krycek, a piece of shit is just a piece of shit, no
matter how you dress it up."

"Speaking of dressing up...I was more than a little surprised to find out
that Scully was partial to black lace bras...who would have thought that
she had it in her? I mean..."

Before he could finish he found his back flush up against the cold marble
of the monument.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed Krycek? Because if I find out that
you so much as laid one finger on her, you're I'll kill you," I gave him
one last shove up against the wall for good measure, and continued walking,
"and if you don't tell me how the hell to get Scully back in the next 5
seconds, there'll be nothing stopping me from ripping that prosthetic arm
out of its socket and shoving it up your ass."  

Krycek just smirked and stopped at the water's edge. 

"Did you do as instructed?" He asks.

"Am I standing here?" I say, irritated.

"Don't be smartass Mulder, you'll just make this more difficult."

I turn to him, balling my fists at my sides in an attempt to keep my tone
somewhat normal.

I don't manage very well.

"Where. Is. She." I hiss.

"We'll get to that." He says, his tone growing a little less tolerant. 

I decide it's best to just stay calm and listen to what else he has to say.
I already know I probably won't like it.

"There's more to this whole thing than just quitting the X-Files, Mulder."
He says, looking at me almost sadly. 

If I didn't already know that this man's heart had been taken out and
replaced with black oil, I'd almost be willing to say he looked
sympathetic. 

"And you're not going to like it. You're *really* not going to like it."

I don't believe this. Krycek is being nice to me. Maybe this really IS a
dream.

"I don't think Skinner would object if you pled momentary insanity and went
back."

"No," I say quickly, "It was made very clear to me that if I did that,
Scully would die."

"Yes," he said quietly, "she would most likely die. But, Mulder, the other
option might almost be worse."

I take step toward him, getting into his personal space.

"Just tell me what I have to do, Krycek, I don't fucking care what it is."

"Have it your way," he says, flipping back to his uncaring, loyal henchman
persona.

Talk about Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Krycek. 

"You have to move, Mulder," he says, "away from D.C. Away from the east
coast. Take Scully with you. I don't care what you do, or where you go.
Keep your ass out of the X-Files, and we shouldn't have a problem."

"And if I don't," I say, "You'll kill us."

"No," he goes on, "we have other… leverage."

I gulp. I'm thinking he's going to say my mother, Scully's mother, another
family member, or even… Samantha. I wouldn't put it above that
cigarette-smoking son of a bitch.

"What kind of leverage?" I ask, hesitantly. Maybe I don't want to know.

"You ever want kids, Mulder?"

I have no idea how to respond. So I don't. Where the hell is he going with
this, anyway?

"I guess it doesn't matter if you do or don't though, Mulder, because the
fact of the matter is you're going to." 

"What the fuck are you talking about, Krycek?" I already have my suspicions
of where this is going, but I don't want to believe it, so I ask anyway.

"Don't play stupid, with me Mulder. You know about the fact that we have
Scully's harvested eggs. And if you'll think back to a little incident at
Ellen's Airforce Base, you know we've had the means to make a little Mulder
for long time…"

He barely gets his last words out of his mouth before I punch him. 

He straightens up and shakes his head a little. He's still fucking smiling.

"You know Mulder after you took her ova from the Crawfords, we were
wondering if you weren't going to try your own hand at fertilizing them."
Krycek laughed. "But we have become impatient."

I wipe the smile off his face a second time. 

I'm about to try it a third time when he grabs my fist.

"I can understand your being angry, Mulder, but if you hit me one more
time, it's going to take me a little bit longer to remember what I'm
supposed to be telling you next."

I yank my hand away from his and straighten, staring at him.

"It's relatively simple, Mulder," he continues, "you, Scully and the little
one take up a new life somewhere far from here. As long as you keep your
nose out of our garbage, we won't bother you. If you do… there's no telling
what could happen to any of you." He pauses, looking at me, trying to
explain further, "there was no telling if you and Scully would choose to be
martyr's, Mulder. So we took out a little insurance policy. We'll know
tomorrow whether or not the fetus is viable. Depending on the outcome,
you'll hear from us then."

"How did you… When…" I try to get out. I want to know just how the hell
they managed to pull something like that off without Scully being any the
wiser. 

Krycek chuckled, "It wasn't all that complex, Mulder, we needed some
insurance, and Scully's OBGYN needed a new summer home. It was quite easy
actually." 

He can see that I'm getting ready to hit him again, but he doesn't seem to
care. 

"To be honest Mulder, Scully thought she was getting a biopsy, a little
pinch, a little discomfort and viola'."

"When?"

"Three weeks ago," he says, turning away. "You'll hear from us tomorrow."

He begins to walk away, and I take a step toward him.

"What am I supposed to do until then?" I ask.

He stops and turns around with that same damn smile on his face.

"Pack."

XxXxXxXxXxX 


I didn't sleep the whole night.

As soon as I got home, I set up a random email account, accessible from
anywhere. Then, I went to the public library and emailed the Gunmen.

I'm glad they'd been paranoid enough to teach me a fortuitous code. And I'm
glad *I'd* been paranoid enough to send them copies of the X-Files on disk.

I got home around 10, and actually did a half-hearted attempt at packing.

Then I thought about the smile on Krycek's face and stopped just to spite
him.

>From midnight to one, I went for a jog.

One to three, I watched TV. 

And now, it's 7am, and for the past four hours, I've sat here staring at
the phone.

A knock on the door nearly scares me off of the couch.

I run to it and throw it open without pretense.

Krycek is standing there in that fucking leather jacket and greased back
hair.

He looks like a reject from the casting of West Side Story.

I'm about to tell him so when he reaches to his left, outside my view and
pulls Scully by the arm until she's standing directly in front of me.

"You have until Thursday," he says.

But I'm no longer looking at him.

I dip my head down and bend my knees, trying to get a good look at her
face.

Her head is downcast and she won't meet my gaze.

"Scully?" I say quietly.

I can barely see her face scrunch up when she walks right into me, burying
her face in my chest.

I wrap my arms around her and raise my eyes up to silently tell Krycek that
one way or another, I'd find out what they'd done to her, and I'd return
the favor.

But he was gone.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Do you want something to eat?" I ask tentatively, unsure of how to treat
her. I should ask her if she needs to see a doctor, but that's probably the
last place she wants to be right now. 

We're on the couch in my apartment. We're sitting next to each other, but
it's a little awkward. Since our embrace in my doorway about 5 minutes ago,
she hasn't touched me once. 

Her demeanor is sad, and she looks defeated.

This is a Scully I don't know.

"They fed me, Mulder," she answers.

I'm getting more than one word answers, this is looking a little more
promising.

"They told me that they didn't," I say quietly, leaning my head a little
into her personal space.

She doesn't back away, answering, "They just wanted you to worry more. To
make you cooperate."

I'm about to tell her that I would have cooperated even if they'd put her
up in the Four Seasons, but she gets up from the couch and walks toward my
door.

"I want to go home, Mulder," she says, "I need to start packing."

I don't get up from the couch, but I look at her when she pauses and turns
to me.

"Mulder," she says, meeting my gaze for the first time, "where are we going
to go?"

I shake my head, getting up from the couch.

"I don't know," I say, "I just don't know."

I should be more worried about that right now, but I'm just glad she's here
with me, and from what she just said, that she plans on staying that way. 

XxXxXxXxXxX

She turns from the doorway, just as she gets to it. She opens her mouth to
say something to me several times before she finally gets anything out.

"Mulder," she says finally.

I stop. Her body language is screaming 'I need space.'

"Mulder, I can leave. I can just go. Somewhere where they won't find me,
and you can stay here and continue on your quest. I can just leave now,
sever all ties, and stay out of sight. I won't make you quit because of me.
We still have a choice. They can't hold *all* the chips… The truth is still
out there, Mulder, and I have faith that you'll find it."

I take a step forward, and am about to aggressively oppose what she's just
told me, but she puts up her hand, and continues.

"Mulder, things are going to get a lot more complicated. I don't want you
regretting this. I don't want you regretting *me*."

"Scully," I say, "I would never do that to you. I would never do that to
your family. I don't care how complicated it gets. I want you with me. I
*need* you with me. About that, I assure you, I will *never* regret."

"But," she says, and then stops. She sighs, bringing her hands up to rub at
her face. She looks back up at me and closes her eyes, almost like she
wants to plead with me but can't bring herself to do it, then nods.

"Lets go," she says.

So we do.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I bought a car. A big conversion van, actually. 

We sold our cars, and I bought a van. I rented a U-Haul too. 

This is so surreal. 

Scully actually just nodded and handed me her keys when I suggested the
idea. I'm getting really worried about her. I mean, she was practically
raped, and I can understand that, but she doesn't want to talk about it,
and hasn't brought it up. I haven't either. Maybe it's time I did.

I will, I think, as soon as I get back to her place, I'll sit her down and
we'll talk about it. 

But when I walk into her apartment, there's a note from her that says that
she went to the store, and to just finish packing up her computer, and to
haul the rest out to the van.

A little disappointed, and a little relieved, I sit down at her computer to
check the email account one last time before I dismantle it. 

There's a message from the Gunmen. 

They found where Scully was being held captive. They gave me the address. 

Things just got a little more interesting. And a little more dangerous. 

I finish packing up her computer and the rest of her things, and sit in her
nearly bare apartment waiting for her return. We packed everything from my
place yesterday, and we have to leave tomorrow. 

I feel like somebody pulled the rug out from under me, but that I'm still
standing on it. No, more like, somebody pulled the world out from under me
and the rug. 

The rug and I are floating in a vast expanse of nothing but space. And it's
funny how the stars all look like question marks.

I hear her keys in the lock, and stand, greeting her as she walks in.

"Hi there," I say.

"Hi." She replies, setting down the bag on the floor near the door, looking
around the skeletal remains of her apartment. 

"Scully," I say, picking up the bag she just set down, and taking her arm,
"I'm sorry, but we need to go. There's something I need to do, and you need
to come with me."

She just nods, giving her apartment one last glance, and turning her heel
toward the hall. 

God, this is scaring me.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The drive to the Gunmen's is a little awkward. 

In more ways than one. 

The van drives like a semi, and with the trailer attached to it, it drives
like a train.

I turn to Scully, as she stares out at the passing scenery of Georgetown.

"Have you gotten a hold of your mother yet?" I ask.

"No," she says. "I'll call her when we get where we're going… I just hope
she understands."

I reach over and squeeze her knee.

"She will," I promise.

I take a moment, then ask, "you're sure you've got everything? Toothbrush?"

She almost smiles at that, but continues to stare out the window, instead
of at me.

"Yeah," she answers.

I decide conversation isn't really an option, and concentrate on driving
this beast.

When I pull into the alley by the Gunmen's, she turns to me.

"What are we doing here?" She asks. 

I turn off the ignition and shove the keys in my pocket.

"I need you to stay here for a while. I have one last thing I need to do."

We get out of the van and wait for Frohike to unlock the door and let us
in.

I escort Scully in, and Byers and Langly jump from the computer console
they were at and rush to her side. They wordlessly take her into the back
room. She doesn't seem to notice. 

I turn to Frohike, then.

"Take care of her."

"We will," he says. "But Mulder, don't end up dead. She needs you. From the
looks of things she needs you more now than she ever has. We debated
whether or not to send you that information. Be careful. Don't do anything
stupid."

I simply nod and walk out. 

Frohike uncharacteristically stands at the door and watches me take several
steps before I hear the door close and the bolts lock.

XxXxXxXxXxX  

They would pick a school. 

An elementary one at that. They're *just* that sadistic.

I park in the lot and wonder how they managed to pull something like this
off. This place is swarming with kids. 

At least this makes it a little safer for me. But, getting out and looking
around is going to have me arrested within five minutes. 

I decide to go with the direct approach.

I get out of my car and walk directly for a group of teachers standing near
the door, watching over the recessing kids.

They all turn to me, not one flashes me the hint of a smile. Sign of the
times, I guess. Or the company.

"Hi there," I say, flashing them a big, stupid grin, "I'm looking for my
son, Jake Hoffstetter?"

The youngest of the teachers seems to soften somewhat and asks me, "What
grade?"

"Third." I answer, hoping to God that the kids that are outside now aren't
third graders. 

"They're in class right now," she answers, "but you'll have to go register
yourself in the office before you do anything."

"Which is…"

She doesn't answer, merely points her finger toward the door leading
inside.

"Thanks," I offer, smiling for their benefit one last time before I head
through the door. 

I try every door that isn't a classroom, looking for some place that they
might have held Scully.

I have no luck. 

I'm nearing my last hallway before I pass the gym. I pause at the door, my
intuition flicking on.

There is a doorway leading down to a set of stairs in the back corner. A
locker room. 

A locker room they'd have no use for in an elementary school. 

Jackpot. 

Thanking God that there isn't a class right now in the gym, I draw my
weapon and descend the stairs, stopping at the door, and mentally preparing
myself for what I might find. I take a deep breath and slowly open the
door. 

There's not a guard, and I neither see, nor hear anyone.

I keep my gun drawn and move in and out of the rows of lockers. It's dusty
and damp down here, clearly this room isn't used. Hell, the kids are
probably scared of it.

I near the showers, when I hear a clank of metal ahead of me. 

I hold my gun tighter, and edge my way along the wall, careful not to make
a sound.

I peek my head around it, and see what I came for. Well, some of what I
came for.

There is a man on the floor with his back to me, dismantling electronic
equipment. There are bits and pieces everywhere, and he looks as though
he's almost finished. The rest of whatever they had had down here has
already been cleared out.

I move up quietly behind him and stick my gun in the back of his neck.

"Where is he?" I ask, pressing harder into his flesh as he jumps a little.

"Who?" 

It's the voice from the phone call I got that started all this.

I pistol whip the bastard and shove the gun back into his neck.

"You fucking know who."

"They're gone," he says, his voice trembling, "they're all gone."

Not so tough now, are you, asshole? I think to myself.

I look around at the equipment he's got scattered around the floor and see
a VCR that's still intact, and head over to it, keeping my gun trained on
his head. 

I press eject, and a tape comes out.

I grab it and stick it in my pocket, both afraid of what I'll find on it,
and morbidly curious. 

"I'll just take this," I say, patting it inside my coat, and walking back
up to him, shoving my gun into his eye socket with more force than
necessary.

He whimpers, and falls back to his knees. 

"Keep it," he says, "just don't… Just don't kill me."

I don't grace his request with an answer, I just pistol whip him again.

I don't kill him, but I don't envy the headache he'll have when he wakes
up.

XxXxXxXxXxX

I'm not even to the door of the Gunmen's before it opens for me.

They must have been waiting.

Langly and Frohike are standing there as soon as I'm in, Byers must still
be in back with Scully. 

"What did you find?" Langly asks.

I look to the door leading to the back of their headquarters, making sure
Scully isn't near, then pull out the tape.

"This," I say.

We make our way over to one of their many VCR's, and Frohike pops it in. 

The screen comes to life to show Scully sitting on a bed, with Krycek
opposite her. I turn down the sound immediately, and turn to the other two.

"Guys," I say softly, "would you mind…"

"Yeah," Frohike says, backing away.

"Sure," Langly chimes in, "no problem."

They leave and I turn the sound back up and watch. 

Krycek walks toward Scully until he's right up in front of her.

She turns her head up to him and glares at him.

"Get the fuck away from me, Krycek." She says, venomously.

That's my girl.

But he continues to goad her.

"Certainly hope you weren't *friends* with Dr. Jakeway, Dana. God, what a
stab in the back."

Scully stands and shoves him back, away from her.

"I said get the fuck away from me, Krycek!"

I've never seen Scully this rattled before. I make a mental note to kick
the shit out of Alex Krycek, *before* I kill him.

"Sure," he goes on, heading off camera, "someone else wants to talk to you,
anyway. But think of it this way, Mulder's eye's, your nose- it'll be
cute."

Scully sits back on the bed, burying her face in her hands, and you can
hear the door open, Krycek leave, and a new person enter.

Scully looks up from her seat, and mutters "You…"

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I knew it," she goes on. 

I still can't see who it is she's talking to. 

"I didn't want to, for his sake."

And then, the back of a head comes into view. 

And I *know* the back of that head. 

And I instantly want the last few months back. 

Scully had told me that Diana was a part of the whole scheme, and I didn't
believer her. I *wouldn't* believe her. 

And there she is, in all her prevaricating glory, taunting the one person
in this world that I should have believed in, totally ignorant of the fact
that I'd see this. See *her*. 

Our past together is but a flicker in the distant past. I want revenge. I
want it so bad I can taste it, and it's all I can do to just sit here and
watch with horrified eyes as a completely irrational drama, in which I am
the lead, plays out before my eyes, and I'm totally helpless to stop it. 

"Agent Scully," Diana says, walking toward the bed and stopping at the foot
to face Scully head-on, "it seems the scenario has changed somewhat. It's
such a pity. Fox used to tell me that *I'd* be the only one to have his
child."

She pauses, and I can see the daggers Scully's throwing her way through the
tape.

"Of course, times change and people do too. I found that out the hard way.
Seems that you won't be able to avoid it either…"

"What do you want, Diana?" Scully asks. 

"I just want to warn you, Dana." 

"Warn me about *what*?"

"Fox." She says simply.

Scully says nothing in response to this, she merely tilts her head to the
side. 

"You think that he'll come for you, don't you?" Diana asks her.

"I know he will." Scully quickly answers. 

Good. I can see that Diana is a little thrown. But she continues
nevertheless.

"Not with what's on the line, Agent Scully. Trust me."

Scully is silent once again.

"Back all those years ago, when Fox was with *me*," Diana goes on, "he
discovered the X-Files. His quest took over his life. It has ever since."
Scully shifted on the bed, no longer looking at her, "I gave him a choice.
It was either me, or the X-Files. He chose the X-Files then, Agent Scully,
and he will again."

"I have faith in Mulder," Scully answers her, but this time, her voice
isn't as sure. I know she's questioning herself.

"You might want to rethink that faith. You are just his partner. I was his
*wife*."

She approaches Scully a little closer, and lowers her voice, so that I can
just barely make out what she says.

"And don't think that a baby will change things, Scully. He'll just resent
you *and* the baby, and in the end, he'll end up hating you for it."

She crossed over to Scully's other side, and leaned in close to her ear.

"You've lost him already, Dana, and you never even had the chance to have
him."

With that, Diana turned and left the room. I'll never forget that look on
her face.

Nor the look on Scully's, whose shoulder's I could see start to shake.

But in spite of everything that had happened to her, she never let those
bastards hear her cry.

XxXxXxXxXxX
 
I sit here, shell-shocked by not only what I've just seen, but by the fact
that some of the things I've put my trust in over the years were all bunk.
I'm such a hypocrite. 

I can see why Scully was so upset now.

*Is* so upset. 

But she should know by now that I wouldn't be here now if I'd chosen the
X-Files instead of her. She should have known that anyway, but then, Scully
is a little more insecure than she lets on. 

I can't understand why she's still acting as if at any moment I'll leave
her to fend for herself, and the child that's growing inside her.

And then it hits me.

She doesn't know that *I* know about the baby. And she thinks that because
of what Diana said, that I won't want it. That I won't want her, and that
I'll hate her for it. 

We shall have to remedy that.

I get up, switching the set off to make sure she won't see it, and head to
the back room.

I open the door and walk up to her.

She's sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. The three Gunmen are
exchanging worried glances at each other, and her. I sometimes wonder if
that's all they ever do.

I stop at the end of the couch and look at her.

"Scully," I say, and she cocks her head a little my way. She still won't
look at me, but I know she's listening.

I gaze at her for a good minute, and I can hear the guys quickly shuffle
out behind me.

"Scully," I say again.

This time she turns to me, her eyes brimming over with tears.

"Come here." 

I wouldn't say that she launched herself into my arms, but it was quick,
without hesitation.

"Scully," I say to her, "I know about the baby. I *have* known about it. It
doesn't change anything. It doesn't change how I feel about you, it doesn't
change that I want to be with you, and it doesn't change that I'll always
come for you. Never doubt that." I can feel the breath whoosh out of her
body, and she clings to me tighter. 

"Quest or no, Scully," I whisper indubitably, my voice hitching, "this is
going to be great kid."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The drive to Ann Arbor is not an unpleasant one.

We have lost much, but we have things to look forward to. Things we'd never
thought we'd get a chance to do, or try. 

I have an interview for a teaching position at the University, and Scully's
actually already been offered a job at the University hospital there. It's
one of the best hospitals in the nation, and the University's reputation
isn't that shabby either.

We're actually getting the opportunity to redistinguish ourselves. 

And to start a new life. One together.

Which is going to be an adventure in itself. One I don't know if either of
us is prepared for.

But we're damn  well going to try.

And my search for the truth, despite what has happened, has not been
entirely quelled.
 
I'd been forced to quit. I'd been forced to give up.

I'd been blacklisted.

But there are, after all, 87 shades of black.

THE END
But I DO plan to continue in this little universe… 

The 87 Series… Coming soon to an inbox near you…
XxXxXxXxXxX

Feed me, Seymour! red_phile@yahoo.com

www.geocities.com/Area51/Crater/3303/slippin.html

This one was for Kim. THE single most intensive beta reader I've EVER had.
Good Lord. And I mean that in the most supportive, nicest way possible. :)