'Angel in the Star Light' 7/11 By phoenix99
(xphoenix99@hotmail.com)

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CHAPTER 7

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"Oh my life
 Is changing everyday
 In every possible way
 And oh my dreams
 It's never quite as it seems
 Never quite as it seems

 I know I've felt like this before
 But now I'm feeling it even more
 Because it came from you

 And now I tell you openly
 You have my heart so don't hurt me
 You're what I couldn't find

 A totally amazing mind
 So understanding and so kind
 You're everything to me"

-'Dreams', The Cranberries

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March 21st 3:12 am

The water was dark. Reaching down to almost
frightening depths beneath the bare, out-stretched legs
dangling above it. The dock was old and made of wood,
the small slivers pricking the skin of his legs, tearing the
delicate fabric of his shorts.

It was nighttime; the bright stars and full moon lit up the
dark world enough to see small silvery fish swimming in
the murky water. Behind him he could hear the
unmistakable noises of a party raging on a little ways
down the shore. He could tell by the splashing, the
screaming and the loud music that it was just hitting its
peak. Looking over his shoulder, he could see people
mingling out on the deck of one of the cottages, some of
them overflowing onto the dock and falling into the
water, hopelessly trying to keep their beer bottles up 
in the air.

The music filling the air was notably seventies. ABBA, he
guessed, but it was hard to tell this far away. He looked at
his watch. 11:47, time to go drag his sister out of the mess.
He got up, slipped his sandals back on and walked back
towards the shore, the old planks of the dock creaking in
protest. The sandals were a stupid choice for the rocky
shore; his feet kept slipping. They were already bruised
and cut from the struggle to get out there in the first
place.

Finally Mulder reached the long line of drift wood and
god-knows-what that ran the length of the shore and was
able to walk along the softer, more stable ground. As he
came closer to the dancing people, he could smell the
booze and the pot in the air.  There were people making
out under trees, people throwing beer bottles at trees,
people pissing in the lake... the common party scene. He
had to step out of the way of one drunk couple braving
the rocky shore, stumbling and laughing at nothing.

Walking up to the deck he looked around the mass of
people for his sister but she was nowhere in sight. The
people around him greeted him with a small nod or a
raise of their drinks. Some of the men were leering at
him, and Mulder wondered why these men were making
out with women when they were giving him these looks.
What was going on?

He made his way inside, asking the people he passed if
they knew where his sister was. They either shrugged or
ignored him.

Strange... his voice sounded different to him...

One girl, who had been talking to a few other women,
turned and seemed to recognize him. She was dressed in
a short denim skirt and a white puffy blouse that was
pulled down over her shoulders. Smiling crookedly, she
left her friends and sauntered over.

"Hey little Red!" she called, her speech slurred and hard
to hear over The Eagles song that was now playing.

Had she just called him 'Little Red'?

"You know," the young woman said before she took
another drink of her beer, "We should really be calling
you little red ridin' hood. I mean, look at ya. Look at ya!
You'err so small, and your hair is red, and it kinda looks
like it could be a hood, though I don't know what a
riding hood is."

"Have you seen my sister?" Mulder asked, looking past
the drunk girl.

"Sure!" the woman said loudly, "She went on and left
with some guy... uhh Jeff... Jeffrey... Jeffery Something.
Cute guy. Damn, she was so plastered."

Mulder grabbed the girl's arm, trying to keep her
attention. "Do you know where they went?"

"Yeah, sure, upstairs."

He paused for a second in shock. That didn't sound like
something his sister would do.

Running up the stairs, Mulder started pulling open
doors. Most of the rooms were empty; one held a couple
making out who swore at him to leave. There was only
one more room to check, and Mulder heard sounds
coming from behind the door. Sounds he had been
hoping not to hear. He took hold of the handle and
turned it, inching the door open.

The wish to see someone other than his sister was
suddenly, to his amazement, granted. The people inside
were in the midst of a frenzied fuck. Though it wasn't his
sister, it didn't take him long before he recognized the
girl on the bed. Seemingly out of his control, he felt
himself mouthing the word 'Missy'. The couple hadn't
noticed him, and he quickly closed the door before they
did. At that moment he felt such a horrible sense of
betrayal, he felt so hurt, and he didn't know why.

He could feel the tears beginning to well up in his eyes
and he ran from the door, down the stairs and out of the
house, trying to get as far away from that place as he
could. His sandals were holding him back, and he soon
kicked them off as he doubled his efforts to get home.

He stopped short of the door to their cottage. He 
couldn't just barge in. What would he say? Their 
parents weren't supposed to know they had gone, and
they would crucify them if they found out. He would
have to ask Billy, no matter how appalling that thought 
seemed.

Running around to the back of the house, he pulled up
the window to Bill's bedroom. He awoke almost
immediately, and Mulder quickly shushed him into
silence.

"Billy I need your help. I was suppose to get Missy from a
party at twelve, but I couldn't find her, and Mom and
Dad don't know!" he partially lied, not wanting to tell
Billy all the details.

"What? Where?" Bill asked as he got out of bed and
pulled on some clothes over his shorts.

"The Davidson's place down the road," Mulder gasped,
still trying to catch his breath.

"Alright, you go to bed. And don't wake Mom and Dad,"
Bill said in harsh, and obviously disappointed tone.

Mulder just nodded and left the room, walking as quietly
as he could down to his room. He shakily got ready for
bed. Thankfully the darkness had hid the red on his face
the tears had probably left; the tears he felt returning. He
had always looked up to her, had always felt Mom and
Dad gave her more. She had He would never see her the same way
again.

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10:32 am

It was birds this time. Not cars or horns or sirens--birds.
Loud, noisy birds that squawked and chirped as if they
might never have the chance to again; and if he'd had his
gun nearby it might have been true for a few of them.
And the air was different, fresh and crisp and full of life.
The light was brighter than he ever thought it had been
in the past; then he remembered why everything was
different.

When Mulder realized he was actually conscious, his
eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly. He was breathing
hard, and the sheets in the bed were twisted around him.

What the hell kind of dream had that been? He'd had
some pretty fucked up dreams before, but this one was
by far one of the weirdest. Why had he walked in on
Scully's sister doing some guy? That made absolutely no
sense. It was as if he had been Scully, and everyone had
seen him as Scully.... It was unsettling to say the least.

Mulder rubbed his eyes wearily before looking out at the
bright morning. It was probably around nine he guessed,
way too early. He wouldn't have minded another hour.
However, after the weird night he'd had, Mulder wasn't
that eager to fall back to sleep.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stretched
his arms out in front of him. He felt great, no stiffness or
aches. All he needed was a hot shower, but he hadn't
been able to find the electrical panels or the water main
the night before so he'd have to do that first, what a pain.

He reached over for his watch, which he'd dropped on
night stand. That was when he noticed the alarm clock;
the little red numbers diligently blinking back 12:00. He
picked up his watch and looked at it to discover it was
actually 10:35. He fiddled with the alarm clock for a bit,
until he had changed it to the right time.

Curious to see if the water had been turned on too,
Mulder left his room and padded into the hallway. It was
quiet and didn't sound like anyone was up yet, so he
supposed that he should be quiet. Being careful not to
make any noise, he crept down the hall to the bathroom.
It really was a beautiful house, and the bathroom was no
exception; it even had one of those bathtub Jacuzzi
things. Maybe if he played his cards right he'd be able to
get Scully in there sometime. "Yeah right," he murmured
to himself, amused at his stupid, deprived libido.

Someone had already used the bathroom; the tap was
dripping slightly and there was a bit of water on the
floor. He recognized Scully's toiletry bag sitting on the
counter and there was shampoo and soap already in the
shower. Obviously someone had already turned everything
on, which was great because now he could have a shower 
before he had to go downstairs.

Mulder closed the bathroom door and turned on the
shower. As the water warmed and the air filled with
steam, he pulled off his boxers and tossed them on the
floor. He stepped under the spray; the water was
refreshing and he closed his eyes in pure bliss as the 
hot water ran over his face and down his chest.

He picked the shampoo up and glanced briefly at the
label. Finesse. He popped off the lid and brought the
bottle up to his nose, taking a sniff. They say that 
smell is the sense that triggers the most vivid memories. 
This scent of the shampoo immediately reminded him of 
the first time they had met; He remembered brushing past 
her, the smell of her hair mixing with her perfume had 
made him pause for some reason. But that had been a 
long time ago--almost eight years. God, that was longer 
than some people were married for.

He looked down at the small bottle. Scully probably
wouldn't mind if he used a bit of it. It wasn't like she'd
know. Squeezing the bottle over his head, he started to
scrub the iridescent gel into his hair vigorously as his 
mind continued to wander.

They had made it, for once in their long list of failures,
they had escaped from the clutches of evil. It was the first
time they had ever succeeded, and now they really didn't
know what to do since this was all new territory for them.
There were so many things he needed to ask Karen, so
many experiments he wanted to try, so many things he
wanted to do... but it didn't seem right. She had just lost
her entire family, she had lost her life. The world had
been pulled out from under her in a single day, and he
wanted to poke at her with a stick as if she were a strange
puddle of goo he had found under his filing cabinet at
work. Would she understand and except their motives?
What if she didn't?

He dropped his hands from his head, and began to wash
himself off with the bar of soap, the white suds running
over his skin in small milky rivulets. When he was done
with the soap, he tossed it into its cradle before leaning
his body forward and closing his eyes as the water rinsed
him off.

He had been greedy in wanting to find this girl so that
she could heal Scully. It had been wrong of him to
assume that when they found her she would acquiesce.
His feelings of debt and remorse at what had happened
to his partner because of him and his selfish wish to have
the blame removed had been his reason, and when he had 
first thought of it the idea had been pretty convincing. 
And look at where it had gotten him; the guilt still 
remained, perhaps lessened a degree, but still present. It 
had just been spread over a wider area, settling on Karen's 
tragedy as well. He was so torn between depression and joy 
that his insides felt like they were being torn apart.

Giving back to Scully what she had lost had been his
primary reasons for going to Albany. The idea itself, that
there was someone who could heal people was fascinating 
to him, but he could not deny the other motives involved. 
If she could really hear their thoughts then she would 
know his reasons, and he felt like such a bastard for it. 
But maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be disgusted. Perhaps 
she saw the guilt he felt now. Did she see his reasons--or 
only his excuses? It was such a fine line.

Mulder turned off the shower, the remaining water
dripping off him as he stood there. The birds outside
were still singing, and everything seemed happy and at
peace. Everything in this world was, and it made him feel
so out of place. How long would it stay like this? How
long would they have before the evil shadows that
seemed to follow their every move struck them down
with their shower of lightening bolts; lightening bolts
that always took casualties. Always.

And if they didn't find them, what would happen then?
Where would Karen go? Mulder wasn't sure if he could
stand seeing her go with foster parents, people who
wouldn't realize the special nature of the person in their
care. They would just raise her like any other child and
that would never be enough for her.

What if he or Scully took care of her? That question had a
painfully obvious answer. Karen would always be in
danger, would always be a way for Them to strike at him
and Scully; two birds with one stone. So it seemed the
only people left who cared, who knew what she was and
accepted her were the two people who were the biggest
danger to her.

And besides, they wouldn't be able to give her the
emotional support she needed after the tragedy she'd
suffered. Being at work all day, or off on a case hundreds
of miles away just wouldn't cut it. The only way they
could take her was if they took off, disappeared just like
this, except more permanently. That would mean
everything they had worked for would be either put on
hold or abandoned completely.

Mulder's new train of thought quickly stamped out the
excitement he had been feeling only minutes before and
left him feeling anxious and unsure. He could feel his
skin beginning to chill in the cooling air. The feeling
pulled him back to the moment, and he brushed away
the thoughts he'd been having and tried to focus on the
present. One day at a time, he told himself.

He got out of the shower and grabbed the closest towel. It
was already slightly damp and he could have taken the
dry one hanging next to it, but he preferred the wet one
he held. He brought it up to his face, breathing deep; the
familiar scent on it comforted him. He was a sentimental
fool, and he knew it.

Starting at the top, Mulder worked the towel down his
body in a rather careless manner, not really paying
attention to what he was doing. He hung the towel back
up on the rack before he reached down and picked his
boxers up off the floor. The sight of them reminded
him that he and Scully were going to need to get some
clothes at some point, since all they really had were what
they'd arrived in and the few things in their overnight
bags. Of course, that really depended on how long they 
stayed.

Mulder was about to pull his boxers on before his image
in the bathroom mirror caught his eye. He stood up
straight, gazing at himself in the small clear section of 
the foggy mirror. With his hand he wiped across the mirror,
smearing the condensation and making his image a bit 
clearer. It was so surreal, he thought, as he leaned 
closer to the glass. It had shaken him, knowing that he 
had almost died, had almost lost his life--had almost lost 
Scully. But when he looked at himself, the face of a 
young, vibrant man, he couldn't see even a hint of what 
had happened. He couldn't see the past ten years in his 
hands or in the invisible creases in his face, but he 
could see them in his green eyes. Eyes that were still 
dark, still believing, still haunted.

He wondered if Scully had stood in this same spot earlier
that morning, thinking over the same problems, asking
the same questions, coming to the same horrible
conclusions. He wondered if she would have some tests
done to see if the cancer was gone and the chip
unnecessary. Of course she would, the real question was 
how long would she wait, to do them or even tell him? 
Maybe until this whole thing was over, or maybe she'd go 
today. He prayed that the chip and the cancer were behind 
them. That was a chapter in their past he would love to 
tear out and burn. He realized now that maybe they had 
been fairly premature in celebrating their apparent 
youth. What if the chip was removed and Scully's cancer 
came back? There were so many 'what ifs' it hurt his 
mind to even imagine it.

Turning away from the mirror, Mulder pulled his boxers
on and left the bathroom. He walked the short distance
back to his room and pulled on his pants and a grey t-
shirt.

He left his room, intending to see where everyone was.
The carpet that covered the hall was new and squished
pleasantly between his toes as he walked. He glanced
into the neatly furnished rooms he passed. The room
Scully had stayed in was empty; the bed was partially
made and he saw her small over night bag sitting on an
old dresser. The room across the hall where Karen had
been staying was also empty. It looked untouched except
for the small bag the Gunmen had given her, which sat
beside the bed.

He felt the beginnings of panic stir in his gut and, as he
realized this, his mind took over and began to create a
huge number of horrifying scenarios. He quickly
rechecked all the rooms one more time before quickly
jogging down the stairs. At the bottom, he ran to the front
door and opened it to find their car gone from the drive
way.

His fear had gotten the better of him and he ran
frantically back into the house, leaving the door open as
he called out to Scully. His voice was met by a short
moment of silence.

"Agent Mulder?"

Mulder jerked his head around to see Karen sitting on
the couch in the living room. It was the same room they'd
been in the night before. The large glass doors were open
a crack, letting in the cool morning air. All the furniture
had been uncovered and there was a mass of sheets
sitting in the corner. Karen was looking over the back of
the couch at him curiously, a book in one hand.

"I thought I'd let some fresh air in here so I opened the
doors a bit," she said as if nothing unusual had
happened, as if Mulder had not been running around
like a mad man just seconds before. He was still trying to
calm his racing heart when Karen smiled lightly at him
in reassurance, probably sensing his fear. It helped
somewhat with the state he had gotten himself into.
"Agent Scully left earlier this morning, around eight I 
think."

Mulder shut the front door before coming over and
sitting in one of the large chairs across from the couch.
"Where did she go?" he said, trying to keep the shaking
out of his voice.

"She went into Bangor to get some food, and to check out
the hospital. She's very excited about finding out what I
am," Karen said as she dog eared the page she was on
and set the book down on coffee table.

"That doesn't bother you? I mean, the fact that we are so
fascinated by what you are?" Mulder asked carefully, not
sure if it was such a smart thing to say and quickly
regretting it after, but the psychologist in him was
interested.

Karen watched him carefully. Her stare was unnerving
and he was becoming uneasy. Almost as soon as this
thought crossed his mind, she looked away and
shrugged. "It could be worse, I guess," she replied,
successfully avoiding the question and keeping herself
well guarded.

Why had Scully left so early without saying anything to
him? It just wasn't like her to just take off like that.

"She's been worried about how much time we'll have up
here, that's why she left in such a hurry," Karen filled in.

He had to keep reminding himself that he was having a
conversation with someone who knew the answers to his
questions before he even asked them.

"What are you reading?" Mulder asked as he tilted his
head towards the book.

"It's called 'The Stone Angel'. I found it in a drawer
upstairs," she said as she regarded the book. "It's
actually quite disturbing."

"You read all that this morning?" Mulder was surprised.
The page she had dog eared was at least three quarters of
the way through.

"No, I was up all last night," she mumbled as she
stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The
sleeves of the dark sweater she had been wearing slipped
down, exposing bruises on her arms. Mulder tried not
to wince when he saw them. She stopped mid-stretch,
her eyes opening as she slowly brought her arms down
and looked at him very seriously.

"I know you and Agent Scully have a lot of questions,
and I can probably answer most of them, but I suggested
to Agent Scully that maybe you should tape our
conversation. So she'll probably come back with a tape
recorder or something."

Mulder nodded, rolling the information over in his mind.
So, Scully had gone to Bangor to get supplies, and he
assumed that left him to watch Karen and to check out
the property. She probably wanted to be here when
he started to interview Karen.

"Well, I'm going to sleep for a bit. If you're going to 
start exploring I suggest the basement," she said softly.

"What's in the basement?" Mulder asked as Karen picked
up her book and started towards the stairs.

"The water and electrical controls, along with the reason
why I think this house was built in the first place," she
said over her shoulder. She stopped halfway up the stairs
and turned to Mulder. "Could you call me when Agent
Scully gets back?"

"Sure," Mulder answered. Karen smiled briefly at him
before she disappeared up the stairs.

Mulder sat for a few more minutes. Karen was looking
healthier than she had the night before, and she seemed
in much better spirits. He was glad, he had worried that
her ordeal would have left her too scarred and hurt to
help them, especially after what had happened at the gas
station the day before. He had laid awake much of the
night thinking about it, and had tried to hold back from
checking up on her. He had lost his battle with himself
and had checked in on her once, finding her in her room
sorting through the different things the Gunmen had
given her.

But maybe she hadn't been able to except what happened
at all, and he just hadn't seen it. Perhaps she was
protecting them from feeling anymore of the guilt she
must know they felt.

Dammit, the whole thing was a mess, one giant catch 22.
They were damned if they did and damned if they didn't.
How could any choice they made change what was going
to happen in the end?

Mulder sighed as he rubbed his face with his hands. His
stomach grumbled and protested at the lack of food, but
there really wasn't much he could do about it until
Scully came back.

He pushed himself up from the chair and began to look
around the room. He examined objects like the Inuit
statue displayed on the coffee table and the books on 
the shelves. A picture sitting on top of the fireplace 
caught his attention and he walked over to get a closer 
look. There were two people in the picture and surprisingly
one of them was Frohike. The man beside him was a bit 
taller, but they kind of resembled each other. Maybe 
cousins? He knew that this place probably didn't belong 
to Frohike, because he would have said something about
it, so maybe it belonged to the other man in the picture.
He'd have to ask Frohike about it sometime.

Mulder set the picture back down and left the room,
intent on making his way to the basement. The place 
looked a lot bigger than it had the night before. The 
kitchen was very nice, very high-tech.  It also had a 
wonderful view over the lake, and Mulder hoped that 
they'd all be able to eat breakfast together sometime 
while they were here. It would be a shame to waste such 
a wonderful view, he told himself.

In the kitchen there was door and he guessed that it went
to the basement. He ignored it for a moment, even though
his excitement was growing. He wanted to check out the
rest of the main level first. Quickly, he glanced around
the den, which had a computer and a very nice
entertainment center that he'd have to try out at some
point.

Satisfied that he'd seen enough of the main floor, Mulder
returned to the door in the kitchen. Cautiously, he turned
the knob. There was a loud click, and he began to pull
open on the door, soon realizing it was much harder to
open than it looked. Placing both hands on the knob he
had to give it a good yank before it came open. It wasn't
that it was warped or damaged, it was just incredibly
heavy. 

There were stairs going down into the pit of darkness
that was the basement and Mulder automatically reached
over and flicked the light switch. The lights began to
come on, each one slightly delayed so that the one above
his head came on last.

Grabbing the railing, Mulder stepped carefully down the
narrow stairs. He noticed the metal lining of the walls, the
hard cement floors and the caged lights. It was
completely opposite to the comfortable environment
upstairs. There were a few rooms off the main hall, but
they looked like they were mostly for storage. At the end
of the hall were the water and electrical controls.

Mulder was about to go back up stairs, having not found
anything of much interest, but just as he was turning he
saw a very inconspicuous door. He pulled it open and
behind it, on the floor, there was a large hatch like the
kind found on a submarine.

"What the hell," Mulder murmured to himself. He played 
with the idea of opening it, but as he looked more
carefully he realized there seemed to be a combination
lock incorporated into the handle. Probably a bomb 
shelter he guess, made for the apocalypse that never 
happened. Of course, according to Scully it wasn't 
actually the new millennium yet. Still, it was slightly 
amusing to know that paranoia must run in Frohike's 
family.

***

Mulder didn't find anything else on the property that
was very interesting, except for maybe the canoe down by
the dock. It was tempting, but the water was way to cold 
to risk falling in. Still, he couldn't shake the image 
forming in his mind of the three of them being there just 
to have fun. When he looked out at the blue lake he could 
almost feel the heat of summer, the rustle of the trees 
and the splashing of water near the dock. He had always 
told himself to stop daydreaming like this. He would tell 
himself that it wasn't helping anyone, and it only made 
him upset, which was a very easy thing to do. But he let 
his imagination go this time, and it felt good. If Scully 
had been healed, then she could very well have children 
again, and that was all that mattered to him. Maybe all 
the dreams he never shared with Scully might come true. 

He knew what he was going to do if all of this was true. 
He would make Scully a proposal, and together they would 
choose where to go from here. There were only two choices 
really, to continue to fight or to take what they had and 
escape. The more reasonable and intelligent part of him 
demanded that he stay, reminding him that billions of 
lives could be in danger. But that seemed a bit egotistical 
for him to think it was all up to him. If she wanted to 
leave, then he would go with her, and never look back. 
Though both ways seemed to look dismal in some way. He 
didn't know what he wanted. He was still so torn. Why 
couldn't any of his decisions be easy ones?

The calm lake offered no answers to his questions and he 
sighed. The cool breeze was beginning to burn his face and 
he turned to head back to the house. He heard the sound of 
a car coming up the driveway and he started to jog back 
from the shore. Walking up to the side of the house, he 
leaned up against a large tree as he watched Scully get 
out of the car.

***

God she looked great. Usually he was able to control
impulses like these. After years of being in such close
quarters with her, he had turned it into a fine art. But
now he was having a rather difficult time trying to do so. 
This place was doing something to him, or maybe it was just
his young body distracting him. He just wanted to run
over and grab her, but he wouldn't he told himself. He
would wait, like he'd been doing for years. 

"Did you get muffins?" Mulder called to her, making her
start. He had scared her and she gave him an exasperated
look. She must be just as jumpy as he was.

"Jesus Mulder," Scully said as she opened the trunk and
started pulling out some bags.

"Did I scare you?" Mulder chuckled, as he came up
beside her. Just seeing her lifted the cloud that had 
been following him around most of the morning. 

Scully gave him a strange kind of smirk, but remained 
silent as she started handing him plastic bags full of 
food and he dutifully carried them into house. Setting 
the bags on the counter, Mulder started going through 
them, pulling things out at random.

Scully came in a moment later, and seeing the mess,
rolled her eyes as she set one particular bag down in 
front of him. Mulder pulled it open and gave a sound of
appreciation, which was sort of a grunt/moan as he
pulled out a container of chocolate chip muffins.

"Aww, Scully, you read my mind," Mulder said happily
as he started to stuff a muffin into his mouth. Scully just
shook her head at him as she started to put the groceries
away.

"Where's Karen?" she asked as she set a carton of milk in
the fridge.

"Umff," he replied, his mouth full of muffin. "She went
to bed, but she wanted me to wake her up when you got
back."

"Well, we might as well let her sleep for a little while
longer. We should set up for the interview. I bought a
video recorder so we can tape it," Scully said as she
pointed to a bag sitting by her purse. Mulder went over
to it, licking his fingers before pulling the box out of 
the bag. "I went and checked out the hospital as well."

"How does it look?" Mulder asked as he tore open the
box and started to play around with the pieces. 

"Pretty good. They accepted my credentials and showed me 
around. I'm going back after I get some blood from 
Karen."

"You're not staying?" Mulder asked, looking up from the 
partly assembled camera. 

"Mulder, I don't know how long we're going to have. I
want to get as much done as I can in as short an amount
of time as possible. I'll watch the tape when I get 
back."

Mulder nodded and turned his attention back to the
video camera in his hand. He was trying to entertain 
himself so that he wouldn't push her into telling him 
what she was going to do all day. 

Scully had just finished putting away the food when
Karen came downstairs. Both agents looked over
at her as she approached them.

"We can start whenever you're ready. I just want to get
something to eat first," she said to them.

"Muffin?" Mulder offered, and the girl smiled lightly.
She took one out of the package and started to eat it as 
she sat at one of the chairs at the table. It seemed 
that whatever had been affecting her the day before had 
gone, and it pleased Mulder to see her eating. When she 
finished her muffin she poured herself a glass of milk 
and joined Mulder and Scully in the living room. 

Mulder was trying to set up the camera and at the same
time trying to ward off Scully's remarks about what he
was doing wrong as she held the instructions up in front
of her. Finally she gave up on Mulder and went over to
the bag she had set on the coffee table.

"Karen, I'd like to take some blood. It shouldn't hurt,"
Scully explained as she unwrapped a syringe. Karen just
nodded as she eyed the needle uneasily.

"Dammit," Mulder cursed quietly from the other side of 
the room, still trying to set up the camera.

Karen winced when the needle went in, but Scully was
well experienced and it was soon over and the sample
safely packed away. She disappeared into the kitchen 
just as Mulder announced his triumph over the
camera, which he knew had been out to get him the
entire time.

"I probably won't be back until much later tonight,"
Scully said as she came back into the room, purse in
hand. "The food I bought is very easy to make. Very, very
easy," she emphasized to Mulder as she rummaged
through her purse for her keys.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" Mulder said. He didn't
feel right about letting her go by herself, and he had
wanted her there during the interview.

She shook her head. "We can't afford the time Mulder. 
I'll try to be back as soon as I can."

"Alright. Be careful," Mulder said as Scully started
towards the front door.

"I will," she called to him before he heard the door 
shut.

He turned back to Karen, who was still sitting, her
expression somber as she waited for them to start.

"I guess it's just you and me," Mulder said as he turned
on the camera and started recording.

X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X

11:30 am 
Washington DC

"As most of you already know, Mulder and Scully were
not caught at any of the roadblocks we set up. What some
of you don't know is that we caught someone else who
will be of great value to us," CGB Spender explained
with such an obvious smugness that many of the other
people in the room were disgusted. Nevertheless, this
didn't stop them all from leaning forward in their seats 
in expectation of what he was about to say.

"Who did you catch?" said the Chinese business man. He 
never had the patience for cheap melodrama such as this 
and always wanted to get straight to the point--but 
what was the fun in that?

"I'm sure you are all familiar with Alex Krycek," Old
Spender said, taking a long drag from his cigarette and
blowing it out with his next words. "He was stopped at
one of the roadblocks and tried to escape. He was
subsequently chased into the forest, recaptured and
taken to a secure location."

"Does he know anything about the situation?" the dark
haired man asked as he pointed down at the papers
sitting in front of him.

"Well, using the fake identification we found on him, we
were able to track his movements. He'd been in Albany
for a month prior. We can assume he knows something
about it, but he is refusing to talk."

"Then what good is he?" another man said.

"We should kill him, eliminate him from the equation,"
the dark-haired man demanded.

Spender shook his head.

"Are you going to tell us that this man who has cost us
huge amounts of money and time, who has sold invaluable
information to our enemies and betrayed us countless
times, should live?"

"Yes, indefinitely. He will be released immediately," CGB
said confidently.

"This is insane," somebody muttered.

"I don't think you quite understand our objective here
Mr. Jacobs. Our priority is to find the link, not getting
revenge. Besides, killing Krycek would be a terrible
waste," Spender said as he mashed his cigarette butt into
the ashtray. "We'll find the girl. All we really have to do
is watch and wait."

"This is true. We still have the advantage," another man
said excitedly. "He'll be careless because he doesn't know
the true value of what he's looking for."

"Which is what, exactly?" the dark haired man asked.

"Why, they are the vaccine."

X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X

END OF CHAPTER 7

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