Blood Ties 11: Evolution (1/17)
By Dawn
sunrise@lightfirst.com 


Key West
Tuesday
2:43 PM


"I still say you should've bought the blue one."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know why you preferred that 
one, Mulder."

 "Exactly. Because it brought out your beautiful blue eyes."

A snort. "It brought out my ass, you mean. Or are you trying to 
claim the fact it was a thong had no bearing on your opinion?"

"Scully I'm hurt that after all our years together you would think 
me so shallow, so one dimensional, so..."

"Typically male?"

Mulder threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Obviously 
nothing I could say will convince you. And it isn't as if I dislike the 
green suit. You look...amazing in it."

"Thank you." Scully eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the 
inevitable punchline. He didn't disappoint.

He leaned in close, breath sending tingles all the way down her 
spine. "After all, even covered up, it's an incredible ass."

"Mulder..." She broke off, corners of her mouth twitching.

Mulder, braced for a scathing comeback, froze in the act of 
plugging the key into the ignition. "What?"

The smile broadened, but Scully just shrugged her shoulders. 
"Nothing."

Mulder cocked his head, eyebrows raised. "Nothing? I don't think 
so. I just handed you a line guaranteed to get my butt kicked and 
all you do is smile at me? Who are you and what did you do with 
my Scully?"

The grin faded to the barest curve of her lips. "You're happy."

It obviously wasn't what he expected, and she smugly treasured the 
several seconds he spent flustered and off balance. Eventually, his 
eyes softened and he reached across the seat, lacing her fingers 
with his and bringing them to his lips.

"I am. Pretty amazing for a guy who once thought happiness wasn't 
part of his genetic make-up."

"I'm glad."

He shook his head, tugging her across the seat until only inches 
separated them, her face cupped between his palms. "You're 
responsible."

His lips descended, brushing across hers in a soft, almost reverent 
kiss. Nice, she thought, throat tight. Then her arms came up of 
their own volition, one hand snaking around his back, the other 
tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she lost herself in 
the taste and feel of him. 

Scully's teeth were fastened on that luscious lower lip, blissfully 
nibbling, when the sensation of being watched intruded. She pulled 
back, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, their rather 
enthusiastic display of affection seemed to be drawing more than 
casual attention from passersby. 

"Mulder."

"Hmm?" Undaunted by the removal of her lips, he contentedly 
began feasting on her neck, fingers doing maddening things to her 
right breast.

"We're...ah...in a convertible." 

"Mmm, I know. Isn't it great? The sun...*nibble*...the fresh 
air...*lick*..."

"The audience."

He froze, then removed his hand as if burned. Peering over his 
shoulder, he found himself staring straight into the face of a 
smirking teenage boy, who promptly gave him a "thumbs up."

"You...ah...may have a point. Much as I hate--and I do mean 
HATE--to admit it. Let's go."

He started the car and pulled carefully into traffic. But the smile 
lingered on his lips.

When they arrived at Rosa's house, Mulder shut off the engine and 
turned to her with a far too innocent expression. "How about you 
model that new bathing suit for me again? Then maybe we 
can...um...take a nap before dinner."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Tired, are we, Mulder?"

In the blink of an eye, innocent became lecherous. "Exhausted."

Whatever response she had planned flew out of her head when the 
door to the house opened and Rosa came out to meet them, brow 
furrowed. "Uh-oh. This doesn't look good."

"I told you we shouldn't let Skinner know where we were going."

They got out of the car. Mulder walked to meet Rosa while Scully 
pulled the spoils of their shopping trip from the back seat before 
joining them.

"Thank heavens you two are back. He's called three times since ten 
this morning." Rosa ushered them toward the house as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Rosa. When I gave him the number, I never really 
thought he'd use it." Mulder glanced at Scully in irritation. "So 
much for the belated honeymoon."

"It must be important, Mulder, you know he'd never..."

"I can't imagine what could be important enough to harass Rosa." 
Mulder turned to the older woman, face contrite. "Rosa, I'm sorry 
about this. Skinner had no right to..."

Her face scrunched up. "Skinner? You mean your boss, Walter? 
'Lena's friend? What does he have to do with anything?"

Mulder stopped, one hand on the doorknob, to exchange a 
perplexed glance with Scully. She turned to Rosa with a small 
shake of her head.

"Rosa, I think we're confused. We assumed Wal...Mr. Skinner was 
the person who's been calling for us."

Rosa pushed past him and entered the house, shaking her head 
bemusedly. "Ay! Don't they teach you FBIs not to leap to 
conclusions? Walter isn't the one who's been ringing that phone off 
the hook, Fox. It's that brother of yours. Grey."

"Grey?" Mulder followed her into the kitchen, Scully on his heels.

Rosa handed him a pad of paper. On the top sheet she'd jotted 
Grey's name and cell phone number followed by three times: 
10:00, 12:15, and 2:20. Something twisted unpleasantly in 
Mulder's stomach and his mouth went dry. The sensation must 
have bled through to his face, because Scully laid her hand on his 
arm.

"No more jumping to conclusions. Just call him."

He nodded. "I think... I'm going to use the phone in the bedroom."

The bedroom's dim coolness did little to alleviate the perspiration 
beading his upper lip. Mulder swiped at it absently with the back 
of one hand, then reached for the phone. Grey answered on the first 
ring.

"This is Grey McKenzie."

"Grey, it's Fox."

"Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for hours."

No small talk. No inquiry as to how he and Scully were enjoying 
their vacation. Mulder swallowed; mentally shored up his defenses.

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it Kristen?"

"No, Kristen is fine. She's at a seminar in Chicago."

"Then what?"

"It's Claire. Something's happened to Claire."

An image of Grey's niece, bright-eyed and triumphant as she hit a 
baseball, flashed through Mulder's mind. He'd become acquainted 
with all of the children in Grey's family, but Claire held a special 
place in his affections.

"Claire? Was there an accident? Is she hurt?"

"She's gone, Fox. Vanished. Kira put her to bed last night, just like 
always. When she came to get her for breakfast this morning, 
Claire wasn't there."

"Was she upset about anything? Could she have run away, be 
hiding somewhere nearby?"

"We've scoured the area, talked to neighbors. There's been no sign 
of her, and no one saw anything." His voice hardened. "There's 
something else you should know. Kira's ex-husband turned up a 
few weeks ago, got himself a lawyer. He's been causing trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"He's petitioning for visitation rights. He wants to see Claire."

Mulder let the implication of his brother's words sink in. "Do you 
really think he's capable...?"

The malice in Grey's tone startled him. "I know he is."

"All right, I'm on my way. Give us a chance to pack up and catch 
the next flight out of here. I'll let you know when we'll be arriving, 
but don't bother picking us up--we'll rent a car."

"Fox, I..." Grey's voice broke but he struggled to continue. "I don't 
know how to..."

Quietly. "Then don't. Hang on, we'll be there soon."

Scully was leaning in the doorway, face grave. "Grey's niece is 
missing?"

Mulder gave a quick nod as he pulled their suitcases out of the 
closet and began emptying drawers. "Kira hasn't seen her since she 
put her to bed last night. No one seems to know what happened."

Scully walked over to the bed and began organizing her own 
clothing. She glanced at Mulder from the corner of one eye as she 
laid shorts, tee shirts, and slacks into the suitcase. "But Grey thinks 
he does."

Mulder fished a pair of running shoes from under the bed. "You 
remember what Grey told us about Kira's ex?"

Scully's lips thinned. "He was physically abusive. She put up with 
it until he started to act out on Claire. It was what finally gave her 
the courage to divorce him."

"He disappeared about five years ago, right after the divorce. Has 
never paid a dime in alimony or child support. As far as Kira was 
concerned, it was good riddance."

"I can see where this is going. He showed up again, didn't he? 
Does Grey really think he's responsible for Claire's 
disappearance?"

Mulder snorted. "Think it? He's convinced. I can't say I blame him, 
considering the guy's history. And the fact that he's been trying to 
get his parental rights reinstated." Mulder stood up straight, 
shoving his fingers through hair already tousled by the trip in the 
convertible. "Scully, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be..."

Her fingers, pressed gently against his lips, stopped the flow of 
words. "Hey, he's my brother, too. I'll call the airport; find out how 
soon we can get a flight."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment as if judging the 
sincerity of her statement. Slipping both arms around her waist he 
tugged her close, chin brushing the top of her head.

"I love you."

"I know."

She could feel his surprise at her unexpected joke, first in the 
released tension of his body and then in the smile pressed to her 
forehead. "Go ahead and make that phone call, Leia. I'll finish 
packing."

She was able to book a 5:15 plane to Miami, where they could 
catch a connecting flight. They wouldn't land in Raleigh until 
nearly eleven, but she knew Mulder would rather endure the 
inconvenience than wait until morning. 

She set the receiver in its cradle and just watched him for a 
moment, unable to shake a feeling of melancholy. He'd already 
thrown off the easy, relaxed aura of a man on vacation. The quick, 
efficient movement of his hands, stiff posture, and sharp, focused 
gaze all screamed Special Agent Mulder. Gone was the man who 
had coaxed her onto the beach in the middle of the night, spread a 
blanket, and made love to her under the stars. Scully drew in a 
slow breath, then released it in a rush, squaring her shoulders. 
Well, it had been glorious while it lasted.

Mulder looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and she smiled. "I'm 
going to go down and let Rosa know what's happening. Though 
knowing her, she's already figured most of it out."

His grin was brief, but genuine. "Not much gets past her, does it?"

Rosa was on the patio, a glass of lemonade on the table before her, 
the umbrella shading her from the unfettered heat of the late 
afternoon sun. She motioned Scully to sit down, concern written on 
her kind face.

"The honeymoon is over, eh?"

Scully's lips curved. "Mulder's right. Not much gets past you."

Rosa made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Three phone calls. 
And his voice... There was great pain."

"His niece is missing. It looks as if she's been kidnapped."

Rosa gazed at her, empathy clouding her brown eyes. "Dios mio. 
Too much sorrow to touch one life."

It took Scully a moment to realize Rosa was speaking of Mulder, 
not his brother. "My mother says it's the strongest character that 
God gives the most challenges."

Rosa's weathered brown hand covered hers. "Your mama is a wise 
woman, chiquita. It would seem He has challenges for you both."

The rasp of the patio door announced Mulder's presence. Rosa 
stood and looked up at him, gaze shrewd. "You are ready?"

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "As much as I'll ever be."

She bobbed her head, understanding the depth of his response. 
Linking one arm with Mulder's and the other with Scully's, she led 
them into the house, to the front door where their suitcases sat 
forlornly on the smooth tile. While Mulder carried them out to the 
car, Rosa embraced Scully.

"God give you strength for what lies ahead."

Scully blinked back the hot rush of tears, tightening her arms. 
"Thank you. For everything."

"De nada. It was my pleasure."

Mulder had returned to stand at Scully's shoulder, shuffling his 
feet. When Rosa released Scully he leaned down, catching the 
older woman in a bear hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Come and visit us in DC. You're always welcome."

Rosa chuckled, her laugher vibrating against his chest. "Ay, you 
keep it too cold up there! Maybe this summer." 

She stepped back, holding his face between her palms, her 
expression intense. "I sense a difficult path ahead of you, hijo mio. 
The darkness can pull souls together or tear them apart. You must 
choose." She patted his cheek and dropped her hands. "Tell that 
brother of yours that the little one is in my prayers. As are you all."

"Thank you. I will."

Mulder slipped his arm around Scully as they walked to the car. 
"She's right, you know. Whatever happens--this isn't going to be 
easy. For any of us."

She squeezed the fingers curled around her waist before crossing to 
her door. "Nine years, Mulder. Easy has never been part of our 
vocabulary."

He chuffed softly and started the car. "You got me there, babe."

As they pulled out of the driveway they waved to Rosa, little more 
than a muted shadow behind the screen door. She watched until the 
car turned the corner and disappeared.

"Keep an eye on them, Waldo," she murmured. "Keep them safe."


Raleigh, NC
Tuesday
11:56 PM


Mulder stared out the window at the field of twinkling lights, the 
low buzz humming through his body ratcheting up a notch. The 
already long flight, extended by a delay in Miami, left him feeling 
stretched tight, like a rubberband ready to snap. The burden of 
Grey's need weighed heavily on his shoulders, conspiring to keep 
him wide-eyed and sleepless throughout the trip. Whatever 
unpleasantness lay ahead once the plane hit the ground would be 
preferable to the forced inactivity of the past seven hours.

A passing flight attendant motioned for him to raise his seatback. 
Mulder nodded, shifting carefully so as not to dislodge the heavy 
head on his shoulder. Scully's face, soft and peaceful in sleep, was 
a balm to his restless spirit. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind 
her ear, then skimmed his finger down the smooth skin of her 
cheek. The steady cadence of her breath skipped a beat, her lashes 
fluttering open to reveal blue eyes still cloudy with sleep.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. We're about to land."

Scully blinked and sat up, stretching catlike before pressing the 
button to raise her seat. She fussed for a moment with crumpled 
hair, then gave up.

"I can't believe I slept through the whole flight."

Mulder glanced down at her, lips quirking. "My fault. I didn't 
exactly let you get a full eight hours last night."

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Believe me when I 
say I will always forgive you that kind of transgression."

He slipped his hand over hers where it rested on the seat arm, 
turning once again to look out the window. Scully watched the 
amusement drain from his features, replaced by a wary, pensive 
expression.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Nah. I was having too much fun watching the guy across the aisle 
drool."

Scully flipped her hand and wove her fingers between his. "You'll 
do what you can, Mulder. We both will."

He blew out a long breath, staring down at their joined hands. "I 
keep thinking about Kira, how helpless she must feel. She's got to 
be out of her mind with worry."

"Kira's a survivor, Mulder. She must possess a core of steel to 
endure everything she has and to overcome it. Don't sell her short."

*Don't compare her to your mother*, she wanted to add. *Not 
everyone falls to pieces in the midst of tragedy. Some actually 
persevere and grow stronger.*

Mulder was silent as they debarked, collected their suitcases, and 
arranged for a rental car. Scully let him be, well aware of the 
headspace he'd entered as he prepared to immerse himself in what 
was essentially a kidnapping case--albeit one with a truckload of 
emotional baggage.

The late hour and nearly deserted roads shortened the thirty-minute 
trip to twenty, getting them to the precinct at the ungodly hour of 
1:15 a.m. Scully shivered as she stepped out of the car, the chill 
magnified by skin grown accustomed to sunshine and tropical 
breezes. They'd changed clothes during the layover in Miami, 
trading shorts and tee shirts for jeans and sweaters, and she was 
now profoundly grateful.

Mulder tugged open the glass door and guided her through, 
squinting in the glare from bright fluorescent lights. A lone 
sergeant posted behind the front desk was the only sign of life in 
the otherwise deserted lobby. He stood as they approached, brown 
eyes locked onto Mulder's face. 

Mulder reached for his ID. "Hi. We're..."

"No introduction necessary--one look at that mug of yours tells it 
all. You must be Fox." Lips twisting into something between a 
smirk and a grin, he extended a meaty hand. "Joe Wade. Grey said 
to expect you both."

Mulder allowed his hand to be swallowed in a bone-crushing grip, 
amused when Wade shook Scully's as if her fingers were made of 
glass. 

"Your brother is in the conference room--down that way, third 
door on the left." The smile slid off Wade's face, transforming him 
from desk clerk to grizzled veteran. "I think they're about ready to 
pack it in. Not much more to be done tonight."

"Thanks."

"I suppose that means there haven't been any breakthroughs," 
Scully murmured as they moved down the hallway. 

"Did you think there would be?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I guess a small part of me was still 
holding out hope that it was all a big mistake. Whether that meant 
finding Claire camped out at a friend's house or brought home by 
her father with a credible explanation."

The conference room door hung slightly ajar and they could hear 
Grey's voice, terse and impatient. "There has to be something else 
we can do, some other avenue to pursue."

His partner's response was patient but weary. "Grey, it's after one 
in the morning. We've put out the APB on Talbot, filed a missing 
persons report on Claire. There's just not much more we can do 
until morning. For God's sake, go home and get some sleep while 
you can."

"How do you expect me to sleep when my niece is out there 
somewhere, most likely in the hands of the bastard who used to 
abuse her? Anyway, Fox and Dana..."

"Are here." Mulder nudged open the door and they stepped inside. 

Mark Preston sat slumped over a table, arms folded. Spread across 
its surface were various file folders, reports, and pictures. Across 
the room Grey ceased pacing like a caged tiger and propped his 
hands on his hips, a strained smile erasing the scowl from his face.

"What took you so long, little brother? I was beginning to worry 
you'd ditched us for one more night in paradise."

"Our flight was delayed a bit. Guess I should've called."

Scully surprised them both by simply walking over and slipping 
her arms around Grey's waist. "I'm so sorry, Grey. We'll do 
whatever we can to help."

A moment's hesitation and then his arms came up, much of the 
tension leaving his body in a whoosh. His voice dropped to barely 
more than a whisper but remained steady. "Thanks, darlin'."

"How's Kira holding up?" Mulder circled the table as he spoke, 
eyes roving over each piece of paper.

"She's scared." Grey chuffed, watching his brother prowl. "Pissed. 
My little sister isn't one to give up without a fight. My folks took 
her home with them about an hour ago."

Mark caught Scully's eye and tilted his head toward the door. She 
dipped her chin slightly and stepped out of Grey's embrace. 

"It's been a long day for us all. I know I could use a shower and 
something hot to drink. Grey, why don't we go back to your place? 
You can bring Mulder and me up to speed on what you know so 
far, and we can all grab a few hours of sleep."

"Grey, you live ten minutes from here," Mark said when his 
partner hesitated. "If anything comes up, you'll be the first to 
know. Go on."

Propriety toward his brother and Scully achieved what Mark's 
previous badgering could not. Grey's shoulders slumped and he 
nodded. "Guess you're right. Y'all deserve a break before I start 
asking you to jump through hoops."

Mulder looked up, mouth twitching. "No problem. Your buddy 
Walt's always telling Scully and me that managing the X-Files is 
like running a circus."

Grey shook his head, but a little of the bleakness left his eyes. 
"Don't take this the wrong way, Fox. But I'm not surprised."


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
2:33 AM

Scully shuffled into the family room, hair damp, face scrubbed 
clean of make-up, and clad in worn sweats. Grey handed her a mug 
of steaming tea, relinquishing his seat beside Mulder and moving 
to a chair across from the couch. She melted into the soft cushion 
with a contented sigh and took a long sip.

"Have you two come up with a game plan?"

Mulder slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I definitely 
want to see the crime scene--" He winced. "Claire's bedroom. And 
I need to talk to Kira. If her ex does have Claire, I need to get a 
better handle on what we're dealing with."

"We've had his apartment under surveillance all day. There hasn't 
been hide nor hair of him." Grey spoke through gritted teeth. "He's 
got her. I'd bet money on it."

"You're probably right. The overwhelming majority of child 
kidnappings are perpetrated by a parent or other family member. 
But you're a cop, Grey. You of all people know the danger in 
prematurely narrowing the focus of an investigation."

"Don't patronize me, Fox. You weren't around when Kira was 
married to that bastard; you don't know what it was like. Bruises 
up and down her arms, split lips, black eyes. I've seen first hand 
what the son of a bitch is capable of."

"Hey." Mulder's soft, even response brought his brother up short. 
"I'm on your side, remember? You asked for my help, Grey; you 
have to trust me to give it. We both know you're way too close to 
this one."

Grey looked ready to protest, but his eyes slipped shut and he 
nodded. "Yeah. I guess I am." He pinned Mulder with a look of 
fierce determination. "But don't expect me to just sit back and let 
you drive on this one. I can't do that."

One corner of Mulder's mouth turned up. "Fair enough."

"Grey, I'm not sure how to ask this, but..." Scully took another sip 
from her mug as she chose her words. "Kira has always impressed 
me as strong and independent. How--"

"--did someone so intelligent wind up married to such a loser?" 
Grey asked.

"Something like that."

Grey sighed, propping his chin on steepled fingers. "I'm not sure I 
have an answer for you. I can tell you that Shannon was a tough 
act to follow: cheerleader, homecoming queen, fellas lining up to 
take her out on a date. Kira was always quieter, a little more 
serious and, I don't know--introspective? It tended to put guys off. 
Steve Talbot saw what a lot of them didn't--the girl inside. And he 
can be very charming when he sets his mind to it. He swept my 
baby sister off her feet." 

Grey's fingers curled into fists. "By the time Kira truly realized 
what she'd gotten herself into she had his ring on her finger and his 
child inside her body. She toughed it out for five years before 
finally calling it quits."

Mulder leaned forward. "Talbot disappeared for nearly five years 
before showing up here again. Do you have any idea where he was 
and what he was doing during that time?"

"Other than dodging alimony and child support, you mean?" Grey 
shook his head. "Supposedly he was living in Atlanta for the past 
year and a half, freelancing for the local newspapers. He's a 
photographer. Before that?" He shrugged. 

"We need to track down every move he made after he and Kira 
divorced. If he does have Claire--and yes, I'm still saying 'if'--it's 
likely he might revisit one of his old haunts."

"I've got just the person for the job." Grey frowned. "Speaking of 
which--does Walt know I dragged you two into this?"

Mulder let his head drop back, then rolled it from side to side in an 
effort to loosen tight muscles. "We're technically still on vacation. 
I don't see that we need ol' Walt's approval."

Scully dug her elbow into his waist, eliciting a gust of air and a 
glare. "He's right, Mulder. Skinner thinks we're in Florida, soaking 
up sun on the beach. If word gets back to him that we're knee-deep 
in a kidnapping case, he'll go ballistic. I'll give him a call in the 
morning."

"Yes, dear."

Grey smiled at her, but his eyes were shadowed with grief and 
regret. "Fox wouldn't let me tell him, so I'm gonna say it to you, 
darlin'. I'm sorrier than I can say about taking you away from your 
vacation. I'll make it up to y'all, I promise."

Scully reached over to place her hand on top of his. "There's 
nothing to apologize for, Grey. We're right where we want to be."

Grey squeezed her hand and then stood. "I think I'd better let you 
two get some sleep. I know it was a long flight, and you both are 
looking pretty rough around the edges.  I was hoping to head back 
to the station as soon as it's light."

Scully took her mug into the kitchen, then popped her head back 
around the corner. "I'm going up. You coming, Mulder?"

"I'll be there in a minute." When she'd disappeared, he called, 
"Don't hog the blanket."

Her indignant reply drifted from the stairs. "I do NOT hog the 
blanket."

Mulder smirked at Grey and nodded.

Scully's voice, fainter now. "I saw that, Mulder."

Grey blew out a long breath and shook his head. "That is a 
dangerous woman."

"Tell me something I don't know." Mulder studied his brother. 
"You're not going to sleep at all, are you?"

Grey looked away. "I'm too wired. I think I'll go over the file one 
more time, see if I might have missed anything."

"You're not going to do Kira or Claire any good by running 
yourself to the ground, Grey. The best thing you can do for them 
right now is get some rest."

"This from the world's worst insomniac."

Mulder chuckled. "The voice of experience." The humor faded and 
he grasped his brother's arm. "We're going to find her, Grey."

Grey's lips curved into a smile that never touched his eyes. He 
patted Mulder's cheek; turned away. "Don't a make a promise you 
might not be able to keep, little brother."

Mulder opened his mouth to protest; found he couldn't. 

Grey tipped his head toward the stairs. "You've got a beautiful 
woman waiting to steal the blanket from you. Go on."

He hesitated, wishing for words that would take the darkness from 
his brother's eyes, words that could give Grey something solid, 
something concrete to hang onto. Words that didn't exist.

"Go on, Fox. I'm all right."

So he went, unable to shake the vague feeling that he'd failed 
before he'd begun.


Raleigh
Wednesday
7:48 AM


"I just spoke to Collins. Still no activity at Talbot's apartment." 
Mark's head seesawed back and forth as he watched Grey pace. 

"What about Atlanta? Is someone checking out his old place?"

"We put the local boys on it. Haven't heard back yet."

"We need to stay on top of them, make sure..." Grey turned, words 
trailing off as he really looked at his partner for the first time all 
morning. "You look like hell."

Tie missing, shirt rumpled, and in definite need of a razor, Mark 
grinned wearily up at him. "I feel like hell. It's a matched set."

"I completely forgot you've been here all night. Why didn't you say 
something?" He held up a hand before Mark could answer. "Never 
mind. I guess I know why. Go home, partner."

"You sure? I'll stay if you need me." A jaw-cracking yawn 
lessened the sincerity of his words.

"Nah, we'll be fine."

Mark shoved back his chair and stood. "Don't have to tell me 
twice. I'll check in later, after sleep and a shower."

Grey wrinkled his nose. "I'd reverse the order if I were you."

"Ha, ha."

Mark shuffled to the door, stepping aside to admit Mulder and 
Scully, each carrying two cups of coffee.

"I'll just take mine to go." He liberated Scully of one cup, raising it 
in a "cheers" gesture. "See y'all later."

"I sent him home." Grey accepted a cup from Mulder's 
outstretched hand and took a long draught. His eyebrows shot up 
and he lifted the cup to examine it more closely. "This is NOT 
from the pot down the hall."

"Even Mulder wouldn't drink the stuff in the pot down the hall--
and that's saying something." Scully ignored her partner's mock 
pout. "We bumped into Sergeant Wade on his way out the door 
and he showed us the little place around the corner."

Grey took another sip. Sighed. "Remind me to thank him." He 
jerked his thumb at a file folder on the table. "Preliminary forensic 
results."

Scully sat down and pulled the folder toward her while Mulder 
loomed at her back. "What have we got?"

"One word. Nothing." 

Scully looked up. "Nothing?"

Grey looked as if he was barely containing the desire to hurl the 
coffee against the wall. "No signs of forced entry. No fingerprints--
other than Claire's and Kira's. No extraneous fibers, hairs. It's as if 
she just...disappeared into thin air."

Scully flipped through the paperwork in the folder. "This is 
preliminary, Grey. They've still got a couple partial prints to check 
and..."

"And we're going to go over the scene again, with a fine-toothed 
comb." Mulder came around to prop a hip on the table. "As 
someone once told me, the answers are there. You just have to 
know where to look for them."

Scully pursed her lips and looked up at him. "Sounds like a wise 
person."

His reply was interrupted by a soft, feminine voice. "Grey?

Three heads swiveled as one to find Kira standing tentatively in the 
doorway. Eyes shadowed with grief and exhaustion brightened 
when she saw Mulder and Scully.

"Fox. Dana. You're here."

"Of course we are." Mulder stood and crossed the room. "We came 
as soon as we could."

She squeezed his hand; looked over at Scully. "Thank you." 

"How are you, Kira?" His voice communicated much more than 
the words--compassion, sorrow, concern, support.

"She's going to be all right." Kira swallowed, tipped her chin up. 
"With you, Dana, and Grey working together, I know we'll find 
Claire soon."

"We're going to do everything we can for Claire." Mulder looked 
at her intently. "But how are *you*, Kira?"

Tears welled up but Kira blinked them back. "I can't think about 
me right now, Fox. If I do, I'll have to think about me without 
Claire. And I...I can't do that."

"Come and sit down, Kira." Scully pulled out the chair beside her. 
"We need to ask you some questions."

Kira accepted the chair but grimaced. "I've been over this so many 
times I'm beginning to feel like a recording. Don't you have it 
down by now?"

Scully smiled. "Bear with us. There's always the possibility that 
telling it one more time will jog your memory to uncover a detail 
you may have forgotten. And the same story can sound different to 
a fresh pair of ears."

Kira ducked her head. "You know I'll do anything..."

Mulder grabbed a chair from the other side of the table and 
straddled it, arms folded across the back. "Tell us about the night 
before Claire went missing, Kira. What did you do that evening, 
before she went to bed?"

Kira sighed; brushed her fingers through the chestnut curls that 
framed her face. "It was an extremely ordinary evening. Nothing 
unusual or exciting happened."

"That's all right. Just walk us through it."

"All right. I guess this is your party." She paused. "After dinner..."

"What did you have for dinner?"

She stared at him with raised brows. "What did we have for 
*dinner*?" When Mulder nodded she gave her head a little shake. 
"I'm not sure I... Wait a minute. It was chicken. I started out baking 
it in the oven, but the electricity was on the fritz so I wound up 
grilling it instead."

"What do you mean, 'the electricity was on the fritz'?"

"It kept flickering. Going out for a few minutes and then coming 
back on."

Mulder looked at Grey, who shook his head. "I doubt anyone 
checked. Power was on when we got there, so we had no reason 
to."

Kira's gaze darted between their faces. "What are you saying? You 
think that has something to do with Claire's disappearance?"

"Just covering the bases, sweetheart." Grey's easy smile couldn't 
hide the flicker of excitement in his voice.

"So you ate dinner. What happened after that?" Mulder asked.

"Claire had some homework, a project for school. She had to make 
a diorama for a book she'd read-- 'Charlotte's Web.' We worked on 
it together until it was time for her to go to bed." Kira pressed 
fingers to her lips, blinking furiously. "She was so proud of it. It's 
still sitting on the kitchen table."

Scully got her a cup of water from the cooler and they waited in 
silence while Kira sipped, composing herself. She met Mulder's 
eyes and nodded.

"The police report says you put Claire to bed about eight-thirty. 
And that you checked on her again at ten-thirty."

Kira nodded. "Right before I went to bed."

"Think carefully--did anything unusual happen during that time? 
Any odd noises, phone calls, anything at all."

Kira hesitated; firmly shook her head. "Nothing. Claire went right 
to sleep and was sleeping soundly when I checked on her."

"And you didn't hear anything during the night?"

"No. And I'm a light sleeper. Which is why I couldn't believe it 
when I went to wake her and she was gone. I can't understand how 
she could have been taken out of the house without me hearing 
something." Her voice broke and this time tears spilled down her 
cheeks as she thumped her fist against the tabletop. "I should have 
heard something."

Mulder placed a hand over hers. "Kira, this wasn't your fault. You 
know that, don't you?"

She didn't remove her hand, but her eyes evaded his. "She's my 
child, Fox. I'm responsible for her safety."

"And you exercised that responsibility. You had her in a locked 
house, tucked into her bed. Whatever happened, it was beyond 
your control. You did all the right things. Never doubt that."

Kira's reply was barely audible. "But it wasn't enough. Was it?"

Mulder shook his head and sat back. "Sometimes it isn't."

The hidden sorrow in his words pulled Scully's attention from 
Kira. She knew much about Claire's disappearance would trigger 
painful memories, but Mulder's face betrayed nothing except 
compassion.

"Kira, I have a final question, and I'd like you to think very 
carefully before you answer."

"Okay."

Mulder took a deep breath. "Do you think your ex-husband is 
responsible for Claire's disappearance?"

Kira's gaze darted to Grey's face before she looked Mulder 
squarely in the eye. "No. I don't."

Grey hissed and stood up, face twisted into a scowl. "Listen, Kira, 
I..."

"No, it's time for YOU to listen, Grey. Because you haven't, so 
far." Kira's sharp retort startled them all. She turned back to 
Mulder and Dana, voice softer but eyes like flint. "I will be the first 
person to admit that marrying Steve Talbot was one of the worst 
mistakes of my life. He's controlling, manipulative, and has a nasty 
temper." She grimaced. "Not to mention a helluva backhand. I've 
never regretted ending my marriage. It was the best thing for me, 
and for Claire.

"I've known the man for nearly twelve years; lived with him for 
five of them. I know what he is and isn't capable of. He's hurt 
Claire and me, yes, in the heat of the moment when he's lost 
control. But something like this--calculated? Planned? It's not in 
him."

Grey stalked back to brace his palms on the table, leaning into 
Kira's space. "How can you still defend him? He came back here to 
get Claire, didn't he? Is it such a stretch to think he'd take matters 
into his own hands?"

"He came back to SEE Claire, Grey. He didn't even ask for full 
custody, just visiting privileges. For God's sake, he hired a lawyer-
-what kind of kidnapper does that?"

"A desperate one."

Kira laughed bitterly. "Yeah? Well, I have news for you--he didn't 
have anything to be desperate about. My lawyer already warned 
me the judge would probably allow Steve to see Claire on a limited 
basis, under supervision."

Grey looked as if she'd slapped him. "How...? He hit her, Kira! 
Why would a judge let him anywhere near her?"

Kira shrugged. "According to Steve, he's cleaned up his act. He 
hasn't taken a drink in over a year." She huffed. "He even took a 
class on anger management."

Grey stared at her a moment, then abruptly straightened. "Son of a 
bitch." It was more of a growl than a curse, punctuated by his foot 
connecting solidly with the plastic chair. He stalked out the door 
without pausing or looking back.

Thick silence blanketed the room until Mulder shoved his own 
chair back. "I, uh..." He tipped his head toward the hallway and 
Scully nodded.

As Mulder followed his brother, Scully focused her attention on 
the woman seated beside her. Kira had dropped her head into her 
hands, face hidden by a curtain of dark curls.

"Are you all right?"

Kira's snuffle of laughter held a ragged edge. "All right? My baby 
is missing, could be in the hands of...of..." She sucked in a shaky 
breath. "And my damn brother can't let go of an old grudge long 
enough to do his job."

"That's not fair, Kira. He's doing everything he can to find Claire--I 
don't think he slept a wink last night."

Kira's shoulders slumped and she lowered her hands to look at 
Scully. "I know he is. But, Dana, he's letting his hatred for Steve 
blind him to any other possibilities. And that terrifies me."

"He asked Mulder and me to help--remember? On some level I 
think he recognizes his own bias. To tell you the truth, I'm 
surprised he's been allowed lead the investigation--he's too close to 
this."

"They almost pulled him off. If it hadn't been for Mark, I'm sure 
they would have." Kira scrubbed at bloodshot eyes. "Maybe it 
would have been best if they had."

"You don't mean that."

Kira traced the woodgrain of the tabletop with one finger. "I don't 
know. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I'm feeling right 
now. Dana, I love my brother, and I know he loves me. But 
sometimes I'm not sure the Kira he loves is a real person. 
Sometimes... Sometimes I don't think he really knows me at all."

She sighed and shook her head, eyes hardening. "I loved Steve 
Talbot. A part of me still does, though I'd never admit it to my 
family. I know Grey likes to think of me as this sweet, innocent 
child, seduced and deceived by Steve. But the truth of the matter is 
that I saw the dark and dangerous side to him." She looked at 
Scully defiantly. "And I liked it."

Scully's lips curved. "If you're expecting to shock me, you've 
missed the mark." She laughed quietly at Kira's raised eyebrows. "I 
was raised by a sea captain in a household run with military 
precision, Kira. I'm well aware of how tiresome being a 'good girl' 
can become. I've fallen for one or two bad boys myself."

"Yeah?" Kira smiled and a little of the weariness melted from her 
face. " But you're with Fox now, and he'd hardly be considered... 
What?"

Scully's smile had become a smirk. "Let's just say Mulder's not 
exactly the poster boy for FBI agents. And if you polled my family 
on whether he's a suitable partner for me, well, you'd get mixed 
results."

Kira digested this information, her smile slowly fading. "I know 
my family will never understand what I saw in Steve. But he is 
Claire's father. Maybe he's been a pretty poor excuse for one, but I 
believe in his own way he loves her. And he wouldn't do this, 
Dana. He wouldn't."

Scully gave Kira's arm a gentle squeeze. "If there's one thing you 
can count on about Fox Mulder, it's that he's never afraid to think 
outside the box. He's going to go by the evidence, Kira, not 
popular opinion."

Kira bit lip, eyes welling with tears. "Thank you."

Before Scully could respond, Grey stuck his head inside the door. 
"Dana, we're going to head over to the house now. Fox went to get 
the car."

Scully gave Kira's arm another quick squeeze, then stood and 
headed for the door. 

Grey's eyes remained on Kira, who was nervously gathering up her 
purse, as Scully walked past. "I'll be there in a minute."

Kira slipped the straps over her shoulder and headed for the door, 
eyes on the floor. Grey's extended arm stopped her, and her head 
snapped up, eyes blazing. 

"What is it, Grey? Because I don't..."

"I'm sorry."

The broken, lost tone of his voice defused her anger but not the 
hurt inside. "Okay."

"I just..." Grey looked away, blinking hard. "I'm scared, Mouse. 
This is my job; it's what I'm supposed to be good at. And I'm so 
afraid of letting you down. Of letting Claire down."

Kira's breath hitched and she lurched forward, wrapping her arms 
around his waist and burying her face in his shirt. "I understand, 
Grey." She choked out the words past a throat filled with tears. 
"I'm afraid it's too late for me. I think I've let her down already."


133 Waterbrook Lane
Wednesday
9:02 AM


The diorama sat forlornly on the kitchen table, just as Kira 
described. Inside it a pink construction paper pig gazed up at a 
dangling yarn spider. Scully picked up a sheet of notebook paper 
and perused the painstakingly neat cursive, lips quirking at Claire's 
passionate diatribe against the butchering of pigs.

"Does she realize that this would mean no more bacon with her 
scrambled eggs?"

"Claire hasn't touched bacon or ham since she discovered that 
book." Grey chuffed. "Kira's worried she'll read one about a calf 
next. She says she can't cope with a vegetarian."

Scully moved down the short hallway toward Claire's bedroom, 
relieved to see a bit of Grey's spark return. He'd been 
uncharacteristically silent on the drive to Kira's house, and she'd 
taken Mulder's lead and let him be. Whatever had passed between 
him and Kira had left him drained and subdued.

Claire's room was an eclectic mish-mash of little girl and big girl, 
princess and tomboy. *NSync and The Little Mermaid posters 
hung side by side, and American Girl dolls shared shelf space with 
baseballs and a catcher's mitt. Mulder stood in front of a large 
window that overlooked the backyard.

"Any luck?"

He startled, one hand jerking reflexively to the gun at his hip. 
Scully skirted the twin bed to stand by his side.

"Sorry."

"'S okay. That's what I get for woolgathering." He smiled down at 
her but something dark lurked behind his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"Just a little tired. Grey wasn't the only one who didn't sleep much 
last night." His eyes neatly dodged hers. "Did you check the 
power?"

Scully let it slide, well aware that little girl rooms held bittersweet 
memories for her partner. "We checked the cables and the fuses. 
There was a coat of dust an inch thick on the fuse box, and the 
lines were all intact. The ground around the meter is still soft from 
the rain they had a few days ago. It would be impossible for the 
kidnapper not to leave footprints." She sighed. "Just as there are no 
prints in the ground outside this window or any other. And 
absolutely no marks to indicate forced entry."

"Nor are there signs of a struggle." Mulder gestured toward the 
unmade bed. "The sheets and blanket are still tucked in. Nothing 
was knocked over or broken. The books, toys--everything appears 
to be in place."

Scully walked over to the nightstand and lifted the framed photo of 
a dark-haired man with intense brown eyes. "There's a logical 
answer to that, Mulder. Claire may well have gone willingly--if the 
kidnapper was her father."

Mulder chewed his lip. "Kira's convinced it's not Talbot."

"And Grey is equally convinced that it is. Neither one is operating 
with objectivity. They're both too emotionally invested."

"You'll get no argument from me on that."

But his eyes wandered back to the window, their darkness more 
pronounced.

"Mulder. What are you thinking?"

His lips twisted into something that was more grimace than smile. 
"You don't want to know."

The edge of anguish in his voice surprised her. "Of course I do."

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating her face, then jerked his 
thumb at the window. "Did you notice the trees?"

Mystified, she joined him and peered out the glass. A line of tall fir 
trees marked the eastern border of Kira's yard, their tops singed in 
a disturbingly familiar pattern. Scully's stomach dropped to her 
toes.

"Mulder..."

"Have you looked at the clocks?" Before she could turn her head 
he plowed on, voice tight and defensive. "I'll spare you the trouble-
-they're all nine minutes slow."

Scully folded her arms with a shake of her head. "Mulder, you're 
not... Are you suggesting that Claire was abducted by aliens?"

He looked away, jaw clenched.

"Slow down a minute and think about this. Grey called us in 
because he trusts us. He's counting on your profiling skills to catch 
a kidnapper. You can't do this to him. You can't make this into an 
X-File."

Mulder's eyes narrowed. "Do you really believe I *want* that, 
Scully? You think it's my choice? What the hell am I supposed to 
think if the only evidence I have points in that direction?"

"What direction?" Grey stood in the doorway, eyebrows knit 
together as his focus shifted between their faces. "What evidence?"

Scully's fingers dug into Mulder's forearm. "Nothing concrete. We 
really haven't had much more luck than forensics did."

Grey shook his head, stepping closer. His eyes locked onto his 
brother's face. "Don't bullshit me. What evidence, Fox?"

Mulder stared at a point just past Grey's left shoulder, unable to 
meet the intensity of his gaze. "Scully's right. I've seen nothing to 
indicate that someone broke into this house and took Claire by 
force."

"But you have seen something you think is significant. It's written 
all over your face. What is it?"

"It's nothing concrete. I need time to..."

Grey crossed the room in three strides until he was in Mulder's 
face. "Don't. I told you up front that I won't be brushed aside. If 
you've found something--anything--you think is important, then I 
want to know about it."

Mulder swallowed, then looked directly at his brother for the first 
time. "There's no evidence that a man kidnapped Claire from this 
house. But there is evidence she was taken."

Grey's face went blank with confusion. "What are you saying? 
That she was kidnapped by a woman?"

Scully watched Mulder's fingers curl into fists as he braced himself 
to deliver the bomb. "Grey, what evidence I've found points to 
abduction. Alien abduction."

Grey blew out a puff of air, half snort, half laugh, catching himself 
when Mulder's face remained stony. "You're not serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about this."

"You..." Grey's face flushed and he spun on his heel. He paced 
across the room and back again, one hand raking through his hair. 
"I can't believe this. I understand if you have reservations about 
Talbot, but this..."

Mulder worked hard to keep his voice calm and even. "Listen to 
me. You have no physical evidence to corroborate a kidnapping. 
On the other hand, I can cite multiple signs consistent with alien 
abduction."

Grey's expression twisted into a sneer. "What--you saw little green 
men hiding in the woods? There's a spaceship parked around the 
corner?"

Mulder visibly flinched and Scully stepped forward. "Stop it, Grey. 
You wanted to know what Mulder found. Let him tell you."

Grey laced his arms across his chest, eyes frigid. "Fine. I'm 
listening."

Mulder took a deep breath. "The trees out there have heat damage. 
All the clocks in the house are exactly nine minutes slow. There 
was an interruption of the electricity last night." He ticked the 
items off, one finger at a time.  

"Each one of those could have a completely ordinary explanation."

"Maybe so. But taken together, they point to something 
extraordinary."

Grey glared at his brother for a long moment, then turned on 
Scully. "You agree with him?"

Scully looked up into Mulder's eyes; saw him braced for rejection. 
She turned a cool gaze on Grey. "I believe in Mulder's abilities as 
an agent. And I've seen too much to dismiss alien abduction as 
impossibility. If Mulder thinks that avenue warrants further 
investigation, then I think you should pay attention to him."

The tension that leaked out of Mulder's body was palpable. Scully 
surreptitiously hooked her little finger through his and squeezed.

Grey turned away, speaking through gritted teeth. "You two want 
to chase flying saucers? Fine. Just don't ask me to follow. I'm 
going to check in with the guys at the station, see if there's any 
word on Talbot. I'll be in the car."

The stricken expression on Mulder's face made Scully's throat 
ache. Without letting go of his fingers she reached up with her free 
hand to cradle his jaw, thumb sweeping across his cheek.

"Give him a chance, love. This is all pretty new to him." She lifted 
an eyebrow. "It took me years to reach this point."

It was obvious his heart wasn't in his smile. "You were a tough 
sell, all right." 

She dropped her hand and started for the door, pulled up short 
when Mulder didn't follow. "Mulder?"

"I'd like to poke around here a bit longer, maybe talk to a few 
neighbors."

"You want me to tell Grey to go ahead?"

He shook his head. "No, I want you to go with him." He lifted a 
hand to stall her protest. "The rest of the forensic analysis should 
be coming through. You'll know best whether anything needs to be 
sent on to the Bureau. And I...I could use a little time, Scully."

She hesitated; nodded. "All right. I'll come back and pick you up in 
about an hour."

"Make it an hour and a half and you've got a deal." He must have 
read some emotion in her face because he leaned in and brushed a 
kiss across her lips. "I'm okay, Scully."

He wandered into the living room, standing in the shadows and 
watching through the large picture window as Scully climbed into 
the car and spoke to Grey. His brother glanced up at the house, 
distance rendering his expression unreadable, before throwing the 
car into gear and pulling out of the driveway.

Mulder let himself out the back door and walked across the yard. 
He stared up at the crisped treetops, trying hard to banish the sick 
feeling that had settled in his chest from the moment he'd noticed 
them. As desperately as he'd searched for proof of extraterrestrial 
life, now he hoped with equal fervor not to find it. 

He propped his hands on his hips and dropped his head, closing his 
eyes against the image of Grey's face. Disbelief. Anger. Scorn. It 
was the last that cut the deepest, left him raw and aching. Scully 
was right; it had taken her years to accept the most extreme of 
possibilities. But from the very beginning she'd respected the 
journey. He'd never looked in her eyes and seen...

He shook his head and turned away to scan the rest of the yard. A 
large wooden sandbox sat in the shade of an oak tree. The canvas 
tarp meant to cover it was askew, a bright yellow handle peeking 
out from beneath. Mulder moved close enough to tug the canvas 
completely off. It was riddled with scorch marks--burned 
completely through in spots. He bit down hard on his lip when he 
saw what lay beneath.

What had once been a collection of sand toys were now brightly 
colored but barely recognizable blobs. Mulder crouched and 
picked up what must once have been a green pail, now a lopsided 
puddle of plastic. Heart pounding, he stirred the sand with his 
finger, uncovering small, polished lumps of glass.

"Mind telling me what you're doing there?"

Mulder jumped, nearly falling on his butt before he regained his 
balance and stood. An elderly woman with snow-white hair stood 
on the patio of the house to the left of Kira's. She shaded her eyes 
against the sun, scowling at him.

Mulder walked toward her, pulling his ID from his pocket. "I'm 
FBI--Agent Fox Mulder."

To his surprise, the woman's blue eyes brightened and a smile 
replaced the scowl. "So you're Claire's Uncle Fox! My name is 
Cordelia Logan, but everyone just calls me Corrie. I've heard an 
earful about you."

He knew there was a stunned expression on his face, but couldn't 
seem to remove it. "You have?"

"Goodness, yes. Uncle Fox the FBI agent. Uncle Fox who lives in 
Washington, D.C. Uncle Fox who taught her to hit a baseball." She 
chuckled softly. "She's such a little thing, at first I thought she 
must've gotten your name wrong. Imagine my surprise when Kira 
told me she was right."

Mulder tucked the ID back into his pocket. "You know Claire is 
missing."

All the merriment left the old woman's face. "Yes. I saw the 
commotion yesterday morning and came over to see if Kira was all 
right. The police questioned me, of course, but I'm afraid I wasn't 
much help." 

"Would you mind if I asked you a couple questions?"

"Agent Mulder, my husband and I were never blessed with 
children. That little girl is the closest thing to a granddaughter I'll 
ever have. I'd do anything to help find her."

"The night before last, the night Claire disappeared, did you see or 
hear anything unusual?"

Corrie's face crinkled with regret. "I wish I had. It was a very quiet, 
very normal night. When the power kept flickering, Sam--that's my 
husband--and I turned off the television and took the dog for a 
walk. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful."

"What time was that?"

"Oh, I don't know. About nine-thirty, ten o'clock?"

"And there were no strange cars, nobody you passed that you didn't 
recognize?"

She shook her head. "We didn't see a single soul. Everyone was 
inside, I guess. A real shame too, since it was a beautiful evening. 
We stood out front for almost half an hour watching the meteor 
shower."

Mulder's breath caught. "Meteor shower?"

She waved a wrinkled hand. "Well, that's what I'd call it. I'm 
certainly no expert on such things."

"What did it look like?"

"Just a lot of bright lights in the sky, darting and swooping. At first 
we thought they were planes, but then Sam decided they must be 
meteors, falling to earth. It was fascinating." She sighed. "But I've 
gotten off on a tangent, haven't it? Meteor showers aren't going to 
help you find little Claire."

"No, you've been very helpful. Thank you for your time." Mulder 
pushed the words past numb lips.

Corrie patted his arm. "I'm sure I haven't, but you're sweet to say 
so. You tell Kira she and Claire are in my prayers, will you?"

"I... Yes, I'll tell her."

Mulder stumbled back to Kira's house on wooden legs. He sat 
down on the cement steps, pulling his trenchcoat more tightly to 
his shivering body. But the chills that tingled up and down his 
spine had little to do with the chill March air.

"Not again." He dropped his face into his hands as tears burned his 
cheeks. "My God, I can't do this again."


133 Waterbrook Lane
Wednesday
11:21 AM


Scully eased the car to the curb and killed the engine. She pulled 
the keys from the ignition but made no move to exit the vehicle, 
dropping her head onto the seatback with a weary sigh. A young 
mother pushed a stroller along the sidewalk, its tiny occupant 
bundled so thoroughly only two eyes and a pair of rosy cheeks 
protruded from the blanket. Across the street, an older woman 
tramped from car to house and back again, hauling plastic bags of 
groceries. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked incessantly. 

Less than thirty-six hours ago, a little girl had disappeared from her 
bed without a trace, yet peaceful suburbia hummed along with 
barely a hiccup. Bitter irony considering the devastation wrought 
in the lives of those who loved her.

Grey had been civil but distant during the car ride back to the 
precinct. Scully hadn't pressed, though her stomach churned with 
empathy and regret. At the station they'd gone their separate ways-
-Scully to follow up with the forensics team and Grey to check on 
the search for Talbot. She hadn't seen him since.

Kira haunted the hallways like a hollow-eyed waif, consuming 
cups of bad coffee and waiting for some scrap of news on her 
daughter. She'd politely rebuffed Scully's offer to bring her a 
sandwich from the cafeteria, though Scully was certain she'd eaten 
little or nothing over the past twenty-four hours.

And Mulder… Scully closed her eyes but could not shut out the 
memory of the almost physical pain Grey's scorn had caused. 
Cases that involved missing children could not help but resonate 
within Mulder. In such a state of heightened vulnerability, Grey's 
bitter invective had drawn blood as effectively as fists.

A sharp shake of her head, and Scully got out of the car. She 
glanced up and down the street, then, seeing no sign of Mulder, 
walked around to the rear of the house. He sat perched on the 
cement stoop outside the back door like a lanky black bird, legs 
folded to his chest and open coat flapping in the breeze. She 
crossed the narrow strip of grass to stand beside him.

Mulder cocked his head, squinting a little in the glare from the sun. 
Despite the lines of weariness and grief around his eyes, his mouth 
curved into the gentle smile that never failed to make her heart 
ache with emotion. "Hey, Scully."

She smiled back, reaching down to sift her fingers through dark, 
windblown hair. "Hey yourself. Any luck with the neighbors?"

He scooted over, patting the now vacant corner. "Most were 
spectacularly unhelpful."

"Most?" She sat, leaning into his warmth.

Mulder tipped his chin toward the house next door. "Corrie and 
Sam Logan, Claire's surrogate grandparents. According to Corrie 
they didn't see anything unusual the other night. Except for the 
lights in the sky."

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but he headed her off with an 
upraised hand. "I know what you're going to say, Scully, but this 
isn't some crank. If I hadn't questioned her I don't think she would 
have given what she saw a second thought. She and her husband 
dismissed it as a meteor shower."

"Maybe it was."

He gave her a long look, then jerked his thumb toward something 
covered by a large piece of canvas near the back of the yard. "Take 
a peek in the sandbox and then we'll talk."

A moment passed before she realized he was serious. Scully stood, 
feeling his eyes on her back as she walked across the grass and 
peeled back the tarp. Scorch marks, melted plastic, hunks of 
glass… It didn't take a genius IQ to see what Mulder had--just a 
few years on the X-Files.

He loomed at her back, hands stuffed into coat pockets. "We've 
been here before, Scully."

Short, clipped, the words held both self-assurance and stubborn 
determination. Good. He was going to need both in order to 
convince his brother. 

Scully turned and met his probing gaze. "You're right."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Dear Diary…"

"I'm not saying Claire was abducted by aliens. I'm saying there's 
sufficient evidence to warrant further investigation." She hesitated. 
"Mulder… There's another possible explanation. One we've also 
seen before."

His lips tightened to a thin line. "I'd thought of that. But why 
Claire? She doesn't have a drop of Mulder blood; there's no reason 
they should be interested in her. It's far too coincidental that she 
would be a random test subject."

"And your theory isn't? Less than one percent of the population 
claims to have been abducted by aliens. What are the odds that 
your brother's niece should be one of them?"

He propped hands on hips, frustration and weariness sharpening 
his voice. "I thought you agreed that the evidence…"

"I do. But bright lights and melted toys are only half the equation. 
You said it yourself--why Claire? Motive is as important as 
method, Mulder. Grey is not going to take you seriously until you 
can answer your own question." 

He glared at her a moment longer before nodding. "You're right."

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Dear Diary…"

 It earned her a delighted chuckle--the first, she realized sadly, 
since they'd gotten the call from Grey. Scully grinned back, 
basking in the moment. 

"So where do we go from here?" she asked as they began walking 
back to the car.

"I think I'll give the Gunmen a call. Have them check UFO activity 
over the last week or so."

"You think this might have happened elsewhere?"

Mulder shrugged, crossing to the driver's side of the car. "I need to 
find some kind of pattern, Scully, if I'm to understand why Claire 
and not the kid down the street." His eyes hardened and he bent 
over to unlock the door. "And to have any chance of convincing 
Grey."

"Mulder…"

"Save it, Scully. I don't need you to make excuses for him."

"I wasn't going to."

He paused, key halfway to the lock, momentarily nonplussed. 
"Well…I don't need you to make me feel better, either."

"Never crossed my mind."

Mulder straightened up, irritation creasing his brow. "Then what 
were you going to say?"

Scully strode over and nudged him out of the way, pulling out her 
own set of keys. "I'm driving." She unlocked the door and slid 
behind the wheel, her expression daring him to protest. "After all, 
the seat's already adjusted so my little feet can reach the pedals."

Mulder slouched around to the passenger side. "You're never going 
to let me forget that, are you?"

Scully just started the engine, her smile distinctly enigmatic.


Raleigh Police Station
12:33 PM

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

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

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

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

"Is Claire with him?" Scully asked.

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

"Which direction was he headed?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Grey…"

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

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

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

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

"Kira…" Grey looked at Mulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So… Find anything else at Kira's?"

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

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

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

"But you don't think so."

"I think…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where were you Monday night, Steve?"

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

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

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

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

"You want custody of Claire," Grey said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Grey."

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

"Covelli!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grey folded his arms. "So?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Raleigh Police Station
2:37 PM


"Mulder."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You still think Talbot is innocent?"

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

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

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

"I'm listening."

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

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

"Exactly."

"So why isn't he talking?"

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

Scully frowned. "Such as?"

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

"So where does that leave us?"

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

Scully looked at him, deadpan.

"What?"

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

"Ha, ha."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He has his moments."

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

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

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


Interrogation Room B
4:02 PM


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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why is Kira here?"

"I invited her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A slight twitch of his shoulder. "Fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tegretol? Zarontin?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Grey..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Eagle Rock
Wednesday
7:17 PM


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

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

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

"What are you trying to tell me?"

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

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

"Mulder..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And Grey?" she asked quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Grey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've lost me, Dana."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Until you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She punched his arm, leaning companionably beside him.

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

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

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

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


Eagle Rock
Thursday
6:33 AM


Coffee.

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

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

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

"Just leave him, Grey."

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

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

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

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

Scully checked her watch. "About three hours."

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

"More or less."

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

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

"So?"

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

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

"Exactly."

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

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

"I can just..."

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

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

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

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

She nodded. "Kristen, I think."

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

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

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

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

"Three hours? Did you sleep?"

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

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

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

"Sculleee."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want to talk about it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scully smiled. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me, too." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scully's eyes slipped shut in resignation.

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

*Sure. Fine. Whatever.*


Eagle Rock
Thursday
10:28 AM


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

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

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

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

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

Her conversation with Rosa echoed in her head...

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

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

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

"Scully."

"Ah, the better half."

"Good morning to you too, Frohike."

"Where's my man Mulder?"

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

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

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

"I'm listening."

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

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

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

"A twist?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will."

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

"What is it, Scully?"

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

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

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

"How far is Boone?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nor should it mean hiding all sharp objects."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know."