** All X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter and no infringement is intended. Raelene Craine and other original characters belong to me and may not be duplicated without my permission. This story and all events in it are my own creation, and are offered as entertainment and has no relationship to any other party. If you have any comments I'd like to hear them. Please drop me a note at : juded@execpc.com Seasons V: Ice Out Chapter 1 The smooth hum of the engine and occasional road bump slowly began to penetrate Rae's dark dreams. A green-eyed man.....a snowy, impenetrable forest wall......Walter's wounded eyes..... Her eyes fluttered open to a dark landscape rolling past the window. There was only the occasional flash of passing headlights to let her know that they were on a highway. The brilliant stars wheeled overhead, they were miles from any town or city. She began to move, to rub her eyes when she felt the cuffs at her wrists. She sat up straighter and heard his voice. "We're almost at the border. You've slept nearly eight hours, you must be hungry. After we pass the checkpoint we'll stop for food and you can use the rest room." She looked over at him. His face was illuminated by the dashboard lights, making his green eyes glow eerily. It was the same face she'd known, the face of the man she'd called friend. "I'll warn you right now not to try anything at the border. Don't try to escape and don't try to get any message to the guards. If we should get stopped I want you to stay quiet and keep your eyes low. I have a syringe of the same drug I used to put you out, but I'd rather not use it, okay?" His voice lost its hard edge and he lay his hand on top of the quilt, over hers. "Please, Rae do as I ask." In her still-groggy state this all seemed like a horrible dream. She could do nothing to acknowledge him. She sank down in the seat again and pulled the quilt up to her chin as tears slipped down her face. Up ahead was a bank of bright lights that she knew must be the border checkpoint. 'What am I going to do?' Alex pulled up to the open booth and a guard asked him some questions. They chatted amiably for a few minutes as Rae peered out at a Mountie walking by. The man turned back to say something to someone and saw Rae staring at him. It was a haunting, wordless encounter. The Mountie looked at Rae thinking that he had never seen such an expression of sadness and hopelessness. Her suffering, tear-filled eyes struck him to the core. He saw the glistening wetness on her cheeks and the sad turn of her full lips and he was touched by the cats-paw of a shiver up his spine. He took special note of the vehicle and was about to walk over when they pulled off. He flipped out a notebook and took down the license number and went over to the guard. "Where were they going?" "North a ways, he said. Got a cabin on the north shore for the winter." "Cabin? For the *winter*? Is he nuts?" The guard laughed. "That's exactly what I asked him. He said that he and the little wife there were going to get away from the big city. Been saving all summer he says." "Did you get a look at the woman?" "No. She was asleep, why?" The Mountie shrugged. "No reason. Did you get a name?" The guard turned serious. This man sounded like he was suspicious of something. "No...no I didn't. What's up?" "The woman wasn't asleep. She looked at me and.....I don't know. There was something disturbing about her." He looked down the dark highway where the car had disappeared. "Its probably nothing, but it bothered me." He tipped his hat at the guard and went back to the station house. He found that he couldn't shake the feeling of despair that the strange, tearful woman exuded. He looked up all the current wire and Interpol bulletins. Maybe there was something....... ...................................... After a brief stop to get something to eat and for Rae to use the rest room they were back on their way. Alex had let her out of her chains and followed her closely to the door, his gun in his pocket. He waited possessively outside for her then escorted her back to the Blazer (R) and chained her up again. He handed her a roast beef sandwich, a soda, and a bag of chips. She tried to ignore him, but he was insistent. "You might as well eat, Rae. It won't change anything if you don't." She wasn't hungry, though. All that kept whirling through her mind was: Why? and: How do I get away from him? Her mind tangled with the situation as he pumped gas. She looked around the car for something to hit him with, but everything was far in the back and out of her reach. If she tried to climb over the seat he'd be on her in a moment. She also realized how tired she still was, whether from the drug or from the stress she wasn't certain. She wouldn't be any good on the run if she was this weak, nor would she be any good to her child. She had to keep up her strength if she was going to take advantage of any chance that came her way. Alex smiled at her when he got back into the car and found her devouring her meal. In a strange way he was glad that she wasn't giving in, it meant that she wasn't broken. He offered her his sandwich after she had finished hers. "Go ahead. I've been munching on junk food since we left Theresa." He put the car in gear and pulled off into the night. They had left the main highway and were on country roads that wound and twisted through the darkened landscape. They passed through deep pine forests and meadows and the weak light of the half moon barely illuminated the scenery. The blanket of snow grew ever deeper as they went further north. After eating Rae felt more alert, stronger. The nausea left her and her head began to clear. But she was bothered by a new worry, and she voiced this to her companion. "Al, what kind of drug did you use?" "The name is Alex, but I suppose you can still call me Al if you want." He smiled, just the way he always had. "It's called Oxazepam. It's a mild tranquilizer in the benzodiazepine family. I gave you a low dose, but you were so tired to begin with that it knocked you out for a long time." Rae lay her hands on her abdomen in an instinctive gesture of protection. "Could it be dangerous?" "Not in the dose I gave you. Why? Are you taking some other medication?" "No, but there's a chance I might be pregnant. I.... I just want to make sure it doesn't harm the baby." She stared out the window. It was wholly dark now and Rae realized that the darkness reflected her vision of the future. "Pregnant?" He glanced over at her, wide-eyed. This was a situation he hadn't planned for. He was sure that Skinner would have taken precautions. He was the type of man who would want to marry first, then have the children. It was out of character for him to have a child before. "How do you know?" "I *don't* know, that's the problem. I went to my doctor yesterday morning before school and she took the blood for a test. We're supposed to find out on Friday." She felt a fresh flow of tears at the thought, but she shook her head. This was still Al. Somewhere inside him was the man who was her friend. Maybe she could convince him to let her go. "If I *am* pregnant there might be complications. I have to be close to a major medical facility." Alex was silent. 'Damn, Skinner,' he thought. 'Why couldn't he wait until they were married? Why did he have to get her knocked up?' He realized that she was frightened. 'Maybe she's not. I'll have to reassure her somehow.' "Al, please. If you let me out I'll walk back to the checkpoint. I won't tell them anything about you, I promise. I don't even know where you're going, so I can't tell them anything. Please...." "I can't. I have to finish it the way I began it, Rae. If I let you go now, you'll be in even more danger. I don't want you to get hurt." "By whom, Al? Who wants to hurt me and why?" But he shut her questions out with a glance. "Maybe someday I can explain it, but not right now. Why don't you try to get a few more hours of sleep. It'll take at least four hours to get to the cabin." "I'm not tired anymore, and I *want* some answers." She looked at the cuffs on her hands, trying to gauge their strength. "Well you're not going to get any answers just now." His voice got an edge to it. He softened it immediately, but it made Rae's skin crawl. "Just try rest if you're not sleepy. I know you can't see much, it's only about 3am but the sun should be rising by the time we get to the cabin." "But, Al...." "Not *now*, Rae. I'll explain what I can after we get settled." She flinched involuntarily and turned once again toward the window. She had to keep her wits and not push him too far. There was no way for her to know what he could do. ................................................. Skinner was still in the office at 7am. He had to stay, in case there was a call. He had to be here if....if..... 'Besides, there's no reason to go home.' He laughed ruefully. 'Home.' Right now his home was being taken away from him, far away and there wasn't a damned thing he could do. He put his face in his hands. He tried to go over it all again but the only thing his mind could conjure was a picture of Rae, looking at him with eyes full of love and hope and fear telling him that she might be pregnant. Oh, how beautiful she had been as her eyes so deep and blue looked up into his with total trust. 'Oh, honey....' The door opened and Skinner looked up to see Marshall Andrews. There was concern on the man's face, and a measure of shock at Skinner's appearance. "What the hell are *you* doing here? I thought I told you to go home yesterday and stay home until you're able to function." "I can function." He allowed himself a small, rueful smile. "Function is about all I'm doing, Marsh." Andrews sat on a chair opposite Skinner. Skinner rarely used his given name, even though he had told him to do so when they were alone. Skinner had always considered it a sign of respect to address his superior in a more formal manner. His use of the familiar now was a sign of his anxiety over Rae. He studied the younger man. Skinner was pale, eyes sunken from lack of sleep, overnight stubble. He looked disheveled and in despair. The worst part was that there could be no comfort for him. There was nothing anyone could do to help until Krycek contacted someone. The only certainty was that his intentions were not good. "Has there been any word?" Skinner shook his head and looked at his hands. "No. Mulder went up there yesterday but I haven't heard anything from him. He has a contact there, Brad Michols and Mulder had him watching Rae. But he lost them." Skinner met Andrews eyes with pain and desolation. "Marsh, I'll do whatever I have to to get Rae back safely." Andrews nodded. He couldn't even imagine what he would do in Skinner's situation. If someone took Sanrda...or Patrice, his daughter? Would he even be able to think this clearly? He looked at Skinner's credenza, at the photos of Raelene there. It amazed him that a man with Skinner's stern looks and quiet manner could fall so completely and so quickly as he had for her. 'But when its right.... who needs alot of time to decide?' "I know you won't go home, Walter. At least get out of this room. Go down to the pool and take a few laps, or at least take a hot shower. I'll reassign some of your workload so that you can spend more time..." "I can do my work, Marsh. If you'll authorize Mulder and Scully to work on this with me I can handle the rest. I'll keep resource requests as low as possible, but I need their help." "Okay, but I'm not sure that Mulder's a wise choice. Use whatever resources you need. The abduction of an Assistant Director's fiancee is official enough to demand investigation by the Bureau. I'll keep administration off your back." He rose and started for the door but was stopped by Skinner's quiet, hurt-filled voice. "Did I tell you she might be pregnant? We're supposed to find out tomorrow." Andrews turned back and saw the haunted look on Skinner's face. "She'll be all right, Walter, and we'll have her home long before the baby's born." Andrews went directly back to his office and began to make calls. He pulled three photos of Rae taken the day she had visited the Hoover building in November out of a plain envelope. They were taken from the elevator surveillance videos and put into Skinner's file. They had remarkably good resolution and showed a her smiling as Skinner whispered close to her ear. The listening devices hadn't been able to pick up anything, but from her blush it must have been a compliment. When his assistant came in he would have them faxed to the patrols on both borders, Interpol, Scotland Yard and the major port authorities. If Krycek had left the country with Rae someone might remember. She couldn't have been cooperative once they got that far. Even if she had left the school willingly with him she would have tried to escape at some point, of that he was certain. Unless Krycek had either charmed or lied her into silence and cooperation. ........................................ They arrived at the cabin at about seven am. The pale winter sun was just raising over the tops of the pine forest that closed in on all sides. For the last fifty miles or so the road had been little more than a logging track: unpaved and one lane. It had wound its way confusingly through the black forest with trees crowding the grade on each side. The cabin itself was rugged built of rough logs, but pretty in a way. It had a high pitched roof that ran out over a full porch. In the summer it would be a wonderful place to sit and rock and watch the wildlife of the woods. A natural stone chimney rose through the roof and a couple vents exited the logs at the sides. Alex pulled up in front of the cabin and opened his door. Before getting out he turned back to Rae, "Are you going to try to escape if I unlock your feet?" Rae lifted her chin and her eyes flashed. "What do *you* think?" He merely nodded and got out of the car. He unlocked the cabin and left the door stand open, coming back to the car for Rae. After unlocking her door he picked her up and Rae began to twist and struggle. She broke his hold briefly and he dropped her on the hard ground. She scrabbled for purchase, but her feet were numb from the sitting and the shackles. Even if she had wanted to she couldn't run. But she had to try. Alex grabbed her by the back of the head, tangling his fingers into her hair. "Stop it! Rae, stop!" He shook her briefly but stopped when she gasped with pain. "I don't want to hurt you, Rae, please." He scooped her up to her feet and held her tight. She was still twisting, trying to get away. He shook her again. "Listen to me....listen!" She stopped and glared at him. "You can't run with the shackles on anyway. Even if you could we're a hundred miles from nowhere so stop fighting me." He swung her over his shoulder like a feed sack and carried her inside. He dumped her on the brass bed and picked up the chain. Rae's eyes widened and she began to fight anew. She pushed against him and began to call out for help. But Alex was wiry, even though slender and very tough. She had no advantage here, chained and unbalanced as she was and he got the wrist cuff on her easily. She pulled at the chain like a wild thing caught. She tried to pull it out of the bed rail, claw at the cuff, break the links. But it was useless. It was made of strengthened tensile steel, she'd have no luck breaking *this* chain. Alex knelt on the floor by the bedside and let her tire herself out. It hurt him to watch her do this. She was so wild and desperate. But there was no other way.....really no other way. Rae rolled onto her side away from Alex and began to sob. Loud, wracking sobs of complete anguish. Her mourning keen filled the room and carried out to the forest beyond, echoing through the trees and the empty lands. She was alone, so alone and trapped. She curled into a ball and cried, her heart reaching out to the people who loved her: Greg and Cheryl, Nick and Jim, Becky my Becky and Walter... oh Walter............ ........................................... Skinner had fallen asleep on the sofa in his office. It was nearly six am Friday and no word had come. Krycek hadn't tried to contact anyone, there had been no meeting with the 'Cancer Man' and no word of anyone matching Rae's description. He had spent Thursday in a state of controlled panic; short tempered and gruff with everyone save Kimberly, Scully and Andrews. He had barked at Torrey in a meeting and cancelled all his afternoon appointments. He hovered near the phone like a vulture ready to pounce, his tenseness a palpable and dangerous force. Darkness seemed to hover about him like a shroud and it touched everyone who came near. He had placed a photo of Rae on the coffee table and had fallen asleep looking at her sweet, smiling face. In his mind her voice spun in the hollow echo of her favorite song "I love coffee, I love tea...." and he had eventually fallen asleep to dream of coming home to an empty house, searching frantically for something that *should* be there, but wasn't. His lawyer had called late in the day asking if he still wanted to put a deposit on the colonial. He had immediately said yes, to go ahead and process. He was determined to have a home for Rae to come to, a place of their own where they'd never have to be separated again. 'She's *going* to come home. She *is* going to be safe,' he kept repeating to himself. But he knew with certainty that each passing hour diminished the chances of her safe return. He was awakened from his restive sleep by a knock on his office door. It could only be one person. "Come in, Mulder." He called. Mulder was surprised and concerned by the look on Skinner's face. His eye were so desolate, so pained. He wasn't sure he should give him the information he'd gotten from Michols. He'd taken a red eye back to DC from Milwaukee and brought Brad with him. His friend was now asleep in his apartment and Mulder was here with more bad news. "Sir, I...." "Just tell me, please." Skinner's voice was quiet, tired and drawn. He had spent most of last evening calling all of Rae's family, including Charlene in California. Then he'd called his own. His father's gentle voice had tried to console him, but it was no use. There could be no comfort for him and no rest until Rae was home. "Sir, the Dodge County sheriff's office found a pick-up partially submerged in the Theresa Marsh. Inside they found all of 'Al's' id, some personal items and this." Mulder put a now dry and misshapen briefcase on his superior's table. He could tell by the older man's eyes that he recognized it. "Her coat was there, too along with her purse." Mulder put the purse there as well. Walter recognized the battered leather case and the outrageous purple bag. He picked up the bag, caressing its surface, now muddied and dirty from the brackish water. He remembered....... .... Rae swung the bright bag higher on her shoulder. The richly colored velvet brocade caught the late sunlight and glittered as she moved. Walter grabbed the strap teasingly and pulled her against his side. "I'm going to have to get you a different purse." Her eyes twinkled, their lovely deep blue disarming him completely. "What, you don't like purple?" "I had something a little less bright in mind. Navy blue or black. Brown, maybe? " She stroked his chin, then plinked him with her fingers like you would a marble or a stone. "You mean conservative. You'd better face the fact right now Mr. Skinner, I'm *not* conservative." ..... 'Mr. Skinner........Mr. Skinner......' "Mr. Skinner? Sir?" Skinner blinked at looked up at Mulder uncomprehending. He shook his head, ridding himself of the echoes of Raelene's voice. "I'm sorry, Mulder. You were saying?" "Michols is convinced that they're heading north. He thinks maybe the Upper Peninsula area if not Canada. He's certain....." "Mulder, may I remind you that deep winter is setting in in the north. Krycek would be insane to take a woman into those regions. He couldn't settle in a metropolitan area, and a wilderness area would be unthinkable at this time of year." Skinner thought a moment, hoping that he was right. "No. He took her south. The truck was obviously a ruse. Since you didn't mention it I assume they found no bodies?" "No. They dragged the marsh late last night. The water isn't really that deep, and it's a rather small area. They're working under the assumption that the truck was dumped there. They're contacting the local farmers to see if they noticed anything suspicious." The ring of Skinner's private line caused him to lunge for the phone. "Skinner." "Mr. Skinner, this is Dr. Gale Cassidy." It was a warm, rich alto. A voice that carried both deep calm and deep emotion. Skinner took a deep breath. "Thank you for calling Dr. Cassidy. Its very early, is everything all right?" "I tried to get Raelene at home so that she could call you because I'll be tied up most of the day, but I only get her machine. And you don't have a machine at your home number, so I thought I'd try here. Is Rae there with you, Mr. Skinner?" "No she isn't Doctor. Rae is missing. She was abducted from her school on Wednesday evening." There was silence on the other end then the deep intake of breath. "I...I'm sorry, Mr Skinner. I'm so sorry" "Doctor, is Rae....can you tell me the test results?" His voice was so quiet that Gale could barely understand him. "The test was positive, Mr. Skinner. Rae is going to have your baby." The words fell like a weight and Skinner felt tears flood his eyes. 'Oh, honey......' he hung his head a moment. "Is she in any danger?" "Not yet. It will be a few months before the baby gets big enough to cause any problems for her. But she *has* to get to a facility soon and have an ultrasound done, to see the extent of any scarring." Walter was thrown back in time. Was it only a month? Only a month since she had told him of the awful beating that had taken her fist child? He could still hear the pain and fear in her soft voice as she told him of her ex-husband's brutality. He could still feel the burning, uncontrollable rage that made him want to kill her ex with his bare hands. He squeezed his eyes tight. He had to be calm. "Mr. Skinner? Are you all right?" "Yes, Doctor. I'm all right. We're doing everything in our power to find her, but whoever has taken her hasn't contacted anyone yet. We simply don't know which direction to look." Gale sighed. She was a caring person and often formed close relationships with her long-term patients. She had been seeing Rae for nearly eight years now and considered her more of a friend than a patient. "I know you'll do everything possible, and I don't mean to add to your worries. Please contact me as soon as you find her, call my service and have them get me right away." Skinner gave her whatever assurances he could before hanging up but the words sounded hollow to him. There *were* no assurances, nothing to hold on to. Rae was gone. Krycek had taken her and, unknowingly the baby. If she came back with as much as a sniffle..... Mulder watched his boss and knew the content of the conversation. Skinner's fiancee was pregnant, and that made this case more urgent. He surmised that there was a possible complication, that it could be life-threatening. He began to plan. Michols was certain that they had gone north. The truck had been found north of Milwaukee, a farmer had seen another, a silver Blazer (R) speed away from nearby. The week before a man had been inquiring in the neighborhood about storing a vehicle for a while: a man meeting Alex Krycek's general description. Let Skinner concentrate his search to the south. Let him send Scully. Mulder was taking Brad Michols and going fishing. Canadian fishing. Chapter 2 They sat around the dim, polished drawing room in deep leather chairs, elegant in their somber suits with their somber faces. They sipped tea or coffee or brandy. One or two smoked fine cigars. The object of their skeptical gazes on another man in another somber suit. But instead of sitting in a comfortable chair sipping tea this man stood nervously smoking cigarette after cigarette. His tall, lean figure was hunched, hand in pocket and his face was wreathed eerily in the smoke that drifted from his thin lips. His eyes stared defiantly through the haze. "We had your assurances that Mr. Krycek was under control. Now he's disappeared with the Assistant Director's fiancee and what began as a small operation has become a mess! Skinner has agents prowling all over southeastern Wisconsin and points south and Marshall Andrews is giving him everything he wants." The portly man's face was beginning to get red as he got more excited. The man with the cigarette smiled, a chilling thinning of his mouth. 'He looks like a chicken ready to be roasted.' Aloud he replied to the man's ire coolly. "But we can turn it to our advantage. Skinner doesn't know that Alex *isn't* working for us. He believes that her abduction is at our behest, and we can use that belief." "How? And what do we do when he finds out that Mr. Krycek is on his own?" "We find them and rectify the matter. I'm certain that we can.... convince Ms Craine to keep her peace regarding Alex's involvement. As for Alex......" Another distinguished looking man looked up from his well manicured fingers. "Its about time you finished *that* particular assignment. It was left too long. Do you know where he's gone?" "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. We have traces on all his accounts, he's bound to need money sometime." The men in the group nodded and murmurred. Yes, he would be found..... The man with the cigarette leaned back against the mantle. What would make a man like Alex Krycek suddenly go off like this? Certainly he realized that he'd never be free...never be able to stop or rest? What could make him go against his orders? ............................................ Rae awoke to incongruously bright sunshine. By the angle of the light the day was winding on to afternoon. There were long shadows across the floor and the smell of wooksmoke was in the air. She rose cautiously, peering around the room. She saw the lump of a figure, curled into a ball and snuggled deep under a blanket on the other bed. The steady, even breathing and occasional snore told her that he was asleep. His shirt and jeans lay draped over a chair arm. Rae crept over to the chair as silently as possible. Once the chain dragged on the bedrail, softly jingling and she stopped dead in her tracks. But the figure made no move and the breathing didn't change. She gingerly searched all the pockets, but there were no keys. She looked about, wondering if he would hide them when she spotted several boxes. Moving slowly and quietly she opened them up. To her surprise they contained clothing, her own clothing. Sweats and sweaters, jeans and even her polar fleece(R) slippers. "I know you're going to be angry, but I went into your house and got some of your things. I've never been good at guessing women's sizes." Rae turned and saw Al, head propped on hand and smiling sleepily. His dark brown hair was disheveled and his green eyes were hazy with sleep. If not for the unshaven shadow on his face he would look like a little boy. The quilt was bunched up around his waist and Rae could see the wiry muscles in his shoulders and upper arms. He was strong, alright and would probably win in any head-on confrontation with her. 'I'll just have to use my wits, then.' "I want you to take a look around and let me know if there's anything else you need or want. I'll go into town tomorrow and get the last of the supplies." Rae picked up her ruanna and pressed it to her face. The rich autumn colors of it reminded her sharply of Walter. She had admired it at the weaving school on Washington Island the week-end that they went to Door County. Walter had insisted upon buying it for her, she could even hear the echo of his soft, resonant voice: "Well you didn't bring a jacket along and I don't want you to get a chill. Much as I'd like to, I can't keep my arms around you while I'm driving, so this will help keep you warm until I can." She felt a tear trickle out from behind her closed eyes. He had looked so sweet and earnest that she couldn't argue. No matter how much she scolded him he loved buying her pretty things. ==== She had told him to strip and wait for her, then closed the bathroom door. She smiled at herself in the mirror as she imagined him eagerly removing his clothes, turning down the bed and softening the lights. She could picture the expression on his face as he made sure everything was right. 'He's probably grinning from ear to ear.' She tilted her head at her reflection, 'Like me.' When she opened the door he was perched on the edge of the bed, dressed only in his shorts. His face held a look of love and desire as she strolled slowly over to him. She had undressed also, but had arranged the soft ruanna about her. The lofty, fuzzy weave felt luxurious against her skin and the light in Walter's eyes banished her embarrassment. She held the garment closed in front of her and stood between his legs. Holding his eyes with her own she lifted a corner of the cloth and rubbed it against his broad chest. She moved her hand along his collarbone, out to his shoulder, then down to gently caress his nipple. With her other hand holding the other corner she rubbed along his thigh to his knee and back. She bent her lips close to his ear and whispered, "See how soft it is. Its woven of alpaca, raised right here in Wisconsin." She kept caressing him lightly as she spoke. "Its the lightest, softest material for weaving you can get. Sturdy, too." She nibbled along his ear, flicking her tongue along its curve. "There are examples of alpaca cloth from the Andes that are over a hundred years old." All through her little monologue Walter moaned softly as the sensations of softness and excitement rifled along his nerves. He ran his hands along her legs to her smooth, shapely hips. Rae climbed astride his thighs, nibbling down to the hollow at the base of his neck. She dragged the fluffy cloth up over his shoulders and let it drape across his back. She kissed across his sensuously smooth head, then held his chin firmly in her hand and looked deep into his eyes. A little smile flickered at the corners of her mouth as she saw the desire there. "Tonight, Mr. Skinner you're going to pleasure me." She teased him with her hips. Twinkling mischief and deep fire lit her blue eyes. "And you're going to do it slowly," she kissed him softly, "and thoroughly," she ran her tongue along the line of his mouth, "and until I tell you to stop." She flung the soft ruanna off, onto the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. Walter grinned his lusty, randy grin and sank his teeth gently into the soft flesh atop her breast. "Yes, ma'am." He murmurred, his breath warming her skin. "Whatever you say ma'am."==== Alex watched the play of memory flow across her face. In the waning sunlight her skin was like the blush of a warm peach, rosy and soft. The mellow glow smoothed the angles of her cheekbones, and sprinkled red and gold highlights through her honey blond hair. Her expression was so wistful and longing when she finally opened her eyes that he came close to regretting his decision. He felt a tightening in his chest when he saw the tears trickle slowly along her cheek to disappear into the fuzzy coat that she held. He rose and padded over to her. He wished that there was something he could say, something he could do to comfort her. He sank down to the floor and sat cross-legged beside her. He picked up the edge of the garment. "This is nice, soft. Did you make it?" His voice was gentle and low. The only other sound in the room was the crackle of the wood stove. Rae looked down and folded the ruanna carefully. "No. Walter bought it for me." She paused for a long moment, trying to order her thoughts. She glanced over at him and noticed that he was wearing sweatpants. "These will all be too small for me in a couple months, and your's don't look like they'll be big enough. I suppose I should get a 2x right away. After all, Walter's a big man..." "But, Rae you don't know....." She looked up sharply, the pain and anger in her eyes startling. "Exactly. I *don't* know. But I have to plan in case I am." Alex looked away. "Al don't you realize what you're doing? Don't you see how many people you're hurting? Its not just Walter. What about Jim? What about my family? Did you ever stop to think what this is going to do to them?" Alex rose and ran his hand through his hair. "And what about your *life*? Isn't that important to you?" She shook her head, "Al its the people we love and the things we *do* with our lives that make them worth living. Who are you, alone, without anyone or anything to care about?" He crossed the room and pulled his sweatshirt roughly over his head. He couldn't look at her. Why didn't she understand? He stepped into his boots and opened the door. "There's a pad on the table. Write down what you want." He closed the door loudly and stumped off the porch. Rae could see him out the window chopping wood for the stove. Why didn't he understand? .............................................. Skinner did his best to hide his exhaustion. His eyes were burning and heavy and his mind felt muzzy. He knew he should go home, that he should try to sleep. But when he walked in the door to his apartment his eyes lit on that spot on the floor where he and Rae had cuddled while watching "Sleepless in Seattle". He went into the bath and ran his hand lightly over the vanity top remembering how she had 'shaved' him. He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her silky thighs on his hips.... 'No. No I can't." He shook his head hard, grabbed a change of clothes and went to the YMCA. He swam laps in the pool until he nearly drowned from exhaustion. Then he dragged himself up to the tiny room and the narrow, too-short bed and tried to sleep. Sleep came, of course, the body's needs could not be denied for long. But it was a sleep tortured by dreams. Instead of the hag screaming on his chest it was Rae, crying. She was in pain or fear and she was trying to tell him where she was. But every time he began to understand her words she would be replaced by the face of Alex Krycek. Then, once again he was in that hotel room in San Francisco and Alex was hitting her, backhanding her across the bed. Then Alex would turn into Tom, her ex-husband who was beating her with a cord and kicking her in the stomach. Walter thrashed and fought the sheets, unable to reach her until he woke himself screaming as he watched Rae collapse in a pool of blood. He sat on the bed, trembling and sweating, clinging to the hope that Rae and the baby were safe. Skinner tossed his glasses on the desk and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't allow himself to think about the dream. The horror and helplessness of it would impair his efficiency. He had to clear his mind, had to concentrate on the facts. He had returned to his office in the early hours of the morning, trying to work and eventually stretched out on his sofa. Mulder had returned with Michols to Wisconsin, leaving right after Skinner talked with Dr. Cassidy. They wanted to follow up on a hunch and Skinner, not wanting to damp any facet of the investigation let them go. He sent Scully south, to contact the border officials there. Andrews had faxed Rae's picture to Interpol, international airports, even Scotland Yard. Other agents had made offers of assistance. Dave even offered to get in touch with some his his old acquaintances at the CIA. He turned to face the photos of Rae on his credenza. 'We'll find you, honey. I promise.' Skinner looked up as his office door opened and the hated smell of cigarette smoke preceeded an older, graying man. His face was thin and lined and his blue eyes held a weary contempt for all. Just now he wore a smug expression and blew a stream of smoke in Skinner's direction. Skinner's eyes went black with hatred as he rose slowly. A dangerous expression marred his handsome features and his mouth pulled into a thin, tight line. He leaned his fists on the desktop and glared balefully at the older man. "Where is she?" Skinner's voice was barely more than a growl. "Oh, she's safe, Mr. Skinner. For the moment." He crushed his cigarette out in the heavy glass ashtray on Skinner's desk. "She's just gone on a little trip with Alex Krycek. He's promised to take good care of her." He gave the slightest inflection to the word 'good', implying nothing good. Skinner stood up straight and tense, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. He fought the impulse to leap over the desk and slam his fist into that smug, smoke-spewing face. He could feel the muscles in his arms twitch with the tension. The other man watched fascinated by the combination of desperation and anger that warred in Skinners' face. He watched how his features twisted with anguish and fought for control. He watched the fists clench, knuckles whiten, formidable arm muscles bunch. It was a dangerous moment and the man knew that he stood upon the head of a pin; one push too far and he would be dead at Skinner's hands. Not that anyone would mourn him, but he wasn't anxious to shake that cold hand just yet. Skinner's voice was low and rough with emotion. He ground the words out from between his teeth. "What do you want?" The older man shrugged. "I want you to keep Fox Mulder busy. Very busy. If he wants to investigate the strange and unusual, let him. I want him so busy that he doesn't have time to blow his nose, so busy that he doesn't have time to scratch. As long as his investigations meet certain criteria, he can examine whatever he wants. But once he oversteps his bounds I want him slapped down.....hard." He lit another cigarette, the brief flash illuminating his face, turning it into a death mask. Skinner's eyes were suspicious. "What criteria?" "You'll receive that information. For now it will suffice that you recall both Mulder and Scully and assign them something obscure. Perhaps something in the south....deep south." "You can't expect me to stand by and allow the abduction of my fiancee to go without investigating. You can't expect me not to use any means and resources at my disposal...." "But such an investigation might put the safety of that fiancee in jeopardy, Mr. Skinner. Not to mention the child." Skinner eyes flew up to meet his. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Alex is not entirely stable." "Then why don't I kill you right now? We'll see if that smokes your precious Alex out of his hole." Skinner began to move slowly around the desk. The older man chuckled, a chilling, skin-crawling sound. "Do that and you loose you woman and your child forever. Alex has instructions." Skinner stared at the man, eyes narrow. There was something else here, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He turned back to the window. "Get out of here you cold bastard." He heard his office door open. "If she's not safe I will kill you." He said it quietly, without turning, but he knew that the other man heard. ........................................................... Rae was smiling in her sleep. Alex watched her as he dressed quietly. He didn't want to waken her. Her expression was one of happy abandon and pleasure and Alex wondered what she was dreaming.... ===== Walter wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto her back. "Well, if I'm going to pleasure you thoroughly you have to be in the right position." He stretched out beside her, running his big hand along her flank to her breast as he kissed her deeply. Then, after trailing his tongue down over her chin he squeezed one breast with his hand and worked his tongue in lazy, wet circles around the other to her nipple. He licked and squeezed and suckled each side equally, taking his time and listening to her low moans. He felt her hands caress his shoulders and ears, her strong fingers kneading his flesh. Occasionally he felt the sharp jab of her smooth fingernails and the sensation spurred him on. He moved down her body, using his hands to caress her smooth hips. He lingered over her gently rounded tummy, nibbling and sucking her navel. He moved a bit lower until he was just above her mound. Inside here, perhaps grew a new life. He kissed the spot tenderly, hoping that his feeling was right. With his chin hovering over her mound he looked up and met Rae's eyes. Hers were dark with smoky passion. Her desire was like an electric charge that zinged through the air and hit him squarely in the heart. She wanted him, not merely his body but all of him. 'And you've got it, too Raelene Marie.' He caressed her thighs, kissing down to her knees, gently parting them and flicking his tongue back up the sensitive inside surface. Then he pulled her knees onto his shoulders and worked on her. Rae closed her eyes and sighed a pitch higher with each breath. His lips and tongue, probing and nibbling were making her writhe. She felt something strong beginning with in her. It ran along her legs, licking her like flames or Walter's amazingly talented tongue. It blazed up from her fingers, surging like the windswept ocean. It pounded in her torso like a deep, strong heartbeat and finally burst inside, throbbing and moaning, begging for release. Walter heard her cries through the haze of his passion. Her fists were balled up in the sheets and she was moaning, " Now, Walter. Noooowwww!" Keeping her legs on his shoulders he reared up onto his knees and entered her fully with one stroke. He held for a moment, waiting for her screech to subside. Then he took her wrists and held them above her head. He looked into those deep, fiery blue eyes for a long, long moment. Then he sank his lips to posses her mouth and began to move. They matched each other, thrust and parry, like fencers. Like partners, they gave and took, dancing to the age old rhythm. Rae began to climax again, bearing down with her strong muscles and thrashing beneath him on the bed. Walter moved his mouth to her breast letting his suckling match the rise and fall of her chest. He began to thrust hard and short. Their sweat mingled, salty, hot and slippery. He wrapped his arms around her breathing her name with each moan. They held tight, riding the force of their bodies, voices mingling, howling in primal release ===== Rae's eyes fluttered open. For a moment she didn't understand why she wasn't looking into Walter's soft, satisfied brown eyes. Where was her lover, her mate? Why wasn't he beside her to gently kiss her eyes awake and caress her body into arousal? Alex saw the sleepy look of love in her eyes and knew with certainty what her dream was about. He also couldn't mistake the disappointment and fear when she saw him standing nearby. The change was like pulling a shade over a window and shutting out all the light. Wakefulness crashed upon Rae. There stood Al, watching her. On her wrist was the cold metal cuff. Along the bedrail the slender chain jingled. She felt sick and cold. She sprang up and ran for the bathroom. Alex heard her retching and wished there was something he could do to help. He got a cloth and dunked it in the water bucket. After wringing it out he went into the bath and knelt beside her. He held the cool cloth to her forehead. Too miserable to care, Rae leaned against his warmth and comfort. "Rae, are you going to be all right here?" Alex wrapped his arm around her shoulders and continued to press the cool cloth to her forehead. "I'll be gone all day. I have to go before we're snowed in, even the four-by won't be any good in a little while. Will you be okay alone?" She took a deep breath. "Al, take me with you. Leave me in that town. I'll get back to the border on my own. Just leave me and drive away. Go wherever you want, I won't tell a soul, not even Walter. Please Al...." "I can't, Rae. I'm sorry." He looked down at his hands when she pulled away. "If I could trust you not to make a scene, not to try to get away I wouldn't leave you alone. But I'll be back before dark." She sat shaking her head. It was like he didn't hear her, like her voice never left her lips. She watched him put on his coat and hat. He turned to her, "Is there anything else I can get you?" He held up the list. She went to take the list from his hand and wrote two more items on it, then handed it back. She glared at him defiantly. "Ginger ale and saltines?" "They'll help settle my stomach." Their eyes locked. Alex still didn't believe that she could be pregnant. But just now he didn't want to argue with the blue darts in her eyes. If she thought she was, then she'd be understandably afraid. So he nodded and turned to the door. Before leaving he turned back. "Rae, there's nothing in this cabin than can defeat that chain or the cuff. The bed is reinforced with steel as are the bolts. There's no way you can get out. Please don't hurt yourself by trying." His voice was sincere, there was no reason to doubt him. Rae felt the rush of frigid air, listened to the engine falter then start, heard the crunch of snow under the tires as he pulled away. 'Maybe *you* don't think that I can get out, Al. But you haven't proven it to *me* yet!' She began a methodical search of the cabin, picking up anything that she could. She used the bucket and collected several different knives, forks, a nail file, two precision screwdrivers and a bottle of cooking oil. She dumped her booty on the floor by the bedside and examined her finds. First the screwdrivers. She used to be pretty good at this, but door locks are bigger than handcuff locks. She used to forget her key and got proficient at picking the locks in the house. But she hadn't done it in several years. She used each driver, tinkering and cursing but the angle was difficult and the first driver broke. She took a deep breath and tried again. She worked at the lock, coaxing it, encouraging it. Then the second driver broke. She flung the handle across the room in a momentary rage of frustration. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. 'The day's still early, girl. Don't give in.' Next came the forks. She measured the bolts that held the bed securely to the floor. If she bent back the two middle tines of the fork it would just fit the head of the bolt. Using the wide butter knife she levered one end of the knife against the floor and pressed the tines against it. It was slow work but she got the tines bent enough to make room for the bolt head. But the metal wasn't strong enough to hold when she tried to turn the bolt. It would hold for a few moments, but when she applied pressure it would pop and she would fall back onto the floor. The only effect was a slight rounding of the bolt and two ruined forks. She stood up and stretched out her back. Looking up at the clock she realized that she'd spent almost three hours bent in a pretzel, trying to get free. She looked at her dwindling supply of 'tools' and realized that Al might be returning before she could finish. She paced the floor to the length of the chain while eating a sandwich. She tried to look for something else, something that she might be missing. A spare key....a hacksaw....a gun. But there was nothing. She picked up the serrated bread knife. The sharp teeth made short work of breads and tomatoes. It might abrade the cuff enough for her to twist her wrist free. She began by sliding the knife under the cuff and worked up. The knife rubbed her skin raw causing friction burns and cuts, but had no effect on the metal of the cuff. Rae looked at the clock. Another hour wasted. She tried sawing down on the cuff, bracing her hand on the floor and using her weight against the knife. She cut herself more than once, with still no effect on the metal. Another hour gone. The sunlight was waning. He'd be coming back. She rose and planted her feet, holding on to the chain with both hands and pulled. Brass was a relatively soft metal, perhaps she could stress the metal of the bedframe, crimp it and break the pole. But the section of the frame where the chain passed through was reinforced. It wasn't budging. More time lost. In frustration she threw herself against the chain, crying out loud. Her fingertips could just touch the doorknob, but she couldn't open it. She leaned all the way out, straining against the bond, pain in her wrist telling her of damage. Suddenly her feet slipped out from under her and she sprawled on the floor. She slapped the floor with her unhurt hand. Tires crunched on the snow and an engine stopped. Booted feet stumped on the wooden porch, knocking off the snow. A frigid blast of cold air ruffled her hair as the door opened. Alex dropped the box when he saw Rae's prone form on the floor at his feet. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, then looked around at the mess. He picked up her torn and bloody hand and saw the trails of tears on her face. "Oh Rae....." Chapter 3 Mulder was talking to one of the Mounties at the border station and Brad was going from booth to booth. They were both showing around photos of Ms Craine and Krycek, trying for a lead. They had been hopeful when a farmer outside Theresa told them about the fellow who wanted to store a truck in his field. "Yeah, " the farmer handed the photo of Krycek back to Mulder. "This looks like the guy. 'Bout my height, kinda rangy, thin y'know?" The man pointed out to the west, past the barn. "I offered to let him put it in the barn, but he said no, just on the edge of the field would be okay. " "Did you ever see him again, or the truck? Can you describe the truck?" Mulder's hopes soared. "I never saw the guy again, but I went out to check on the crop that way and saw the truck. It was a really pretty, brand new silver Blazer (r), running boards, luggage rack, light kit, heavy duty tires. I tell you it was beautiful. Must have been some sort of surprise for somebody because it wasn't the one he drove up in. That was a trashy old pick-up, but this...." "Did you notice anything unusual about the Blazer(r)? Did you see the license number?" "I didn't see the license, but there was something strange. He had that truck stocked like he was going away for a long time. There were cases of canned food, blankets, shells....like he was going into the wilderness or something." The farmer chuckled. "Or maybe he just believes its the end of the world so he's stocking up." "Did you see which way he went when he left here? Did you see or hear anything strange that evening?" The man paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "My wife thought she heard some commotion out by the oak stand. She was out feeding the chickens and she said it sounded like somebody screaming. But it only lasted a minute and by the time I got out there they were gone." They thanked him and went out to look once more at the scene. But there had been rainfall since Wednesday night and all traces of the vehicle and footprints were washed away. They had hopped a flight to Sault Ste Marie that night. Mulder hadn't bothered to get a hotel room, but went directly to the border station. Brad had come along only reluctantly, he had his business to think of , he had said. But Mulder's persuasiveness was more than Brad could take , so he'd agreed to come. Sitting in the car comparing notes, they discovered that their leads were rapidly drying up. Brad found only one person who remembered a silver Blazer (r), but hadn't seen the driver. The man from the booth who spoke to them was on vacation and wouldn't be back for two weeks. Mulder hadn't faired much better. The officer who had been so disturbed by Rae's tears had been reassigned. He was in the Northwest Territories in a wilderness area and wouldn't be reachable until ice out. "Well, Mulder it looks like she's gone. I'm going to head back to Milwaukee." Brad sounded sad, but resigned. To him this was just another investigation. "You're giving up? So soon?" Mulder was shocked. This wasn't the Brad Michols he remembered. This wasn't Bulldog Brad.... "We haven't even gone past the border yet....." "Its a huge country, Fox. Without a direction we'll just be chasing our tails. And besides....." Brad paused, unsure if his friend was ready to admit this," If Alex Krycek has her she doesn't have a chance." "Is that the answer you expect me to take back to Skinner? That his fiancee is gone? That we've given up? I can't do that. He's put his ass on the line for me and my work. And its *my fault* she was in danger in the first place. I *have* to find them." "Suit yourself, Fox, but I have a business to run. At least, while I was watching her in Pewaukee I was able to work on other cases, but I can't do a thing stuck up here." He heaved a heavy sigh. "And you know, and Skinner knows and I know that the percentages of getting her back alive go down every hour that she remains missing. Those percentages go down even faster when Alex Krycek is involved." Mulder hung his head. He knew that Brad was right. Alex Krycek was a killer, a professional assassin with no heart and no soul. He'd been released from the silo for only one reason: to do the bidding of the Cancer Man and if the Cancer Man wanted Skinner's fiancee hurt, frightened and returned to him broken Alex Krycek would do it. ......................................................... Last night Alex had finished bringing in the last of the supplies from his trip to town and stacked them in the corner. Then he took the cuff off of Raelene's torn and bleeding hand. He sat on the bed beside her, bathing the injuries with cool water, then antiseptic. She made no murmur even though the solution had to have stung. When the wounds were clean and dry he wrapped her hand in sterile gauze. He didn't re-fasten the cuff until he had to sleep and then fastened it to her left hand. While she was free he showed her the things he had bought for her approval and handed her a small package. She held the item on her flattened palms and looked at him, her eyes full of questions. "The pharmacist said that this was the most reliable one. I thought it might help if you found out as soon as possible." He looked at his feet. "I....I'll help you if you want." She read the package. Funny she hadn't thought of a home pregnancy test when she first suspected. It might have saved her some worry, and she and Walter might have been together when they found out. Now the dawn was only a faint lightening of the gray as the snow flew furiously about the snug little cabin in the deep north wood. Rae lay in bed listening to the wind whip the branches and saw the snow flow in a horizontal tide past the windows. Alex's prediction about being snowed in soon looked like it was coming true. She rose wearily and a wave of nausea hit her. She really didn't need the test to know that she was pregnant. Her body's reactions were enough. It would be nearly a month since her weekend in Washington. Although she couldn't be positive until her second missed period, she was reasonably certain. Still she took the test kit with her to the bathroom and carefully followed the directions. Alex awoke while she was in the bath. He turned in bed to see the light under the door and his mind was full of questions. What if she really *was* pregnant? She'd need medical care for the birth and maybe before. Of course she'd still have time at ice out. He figured the weather to change in early April, and the baby shouldn't be due until July at the earliest. They could stay in Montreal for a while, at least until after the birth, then continue with his plan to go to Europe. Alex rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. It might be easier to blend in with a woman and child; just a man and his family seeking the simple country life. He began to smile as he contemplated this when he heard a clatter and a gasp from the bathroom. He was on his feet immediately and tapping on the door. "Rae, are you all right? What happened?" The door opened slowly and her happy, frightened, tearful, pale face emerged. "I'm pregnant, Al. I'm having Walter Skinner's child." ........................................................... Walter walked into the little house in Pewaukee and immediately felt the emptiness. The late morning sunshine streamed through the windows and showed evidence of the recent unexpected departure with painful clarity. Rae's coffee mug and breakfast dishes still sat on the table as if she had woken late and was in a rush. Several scores sat on her desk in various states of work. Two large plastic boxes labeled 'Christmas' stood in the center of the living room and her Packer hat lay still on the coffee table where he had committed the ultimate indiscretion of putting his feet on it. A surge of pain choked him as he sat on the sofa and picked up the hat. He clutched it tightly and rested his head against his clenched fists. A harsh, nearly stifled sob escaped him as he desperately tried to hang on to the hope that she was alive. "Please be all right, honey. Please be alive. Please come back to me....." Darkness covered him and he didn't hear the footsteps on the deck or the knock at the back door. Jim stood in the archway, his heart aching at the sight of Walter in such pain. At first he had blamed the big FBI man for putting Rae in danger, for bringing Al into her life. But seeing him like this... alone and in despair caused all the anger to drain from him. He thought about all the years he had loved Rae, and now the new love that he shared with Peter. If Peter was suddenly taken like this and he were left alone again he didn't know what he would do. 'Probably exactly what Walter is doing.' He put his hand on the big man's shoulder knowing that Walter wouldn't accept more. Walter recovered and told Jim about his talk with Gale Cassidy. He told Jim about the investigation and how they seemed to have disappeared. He told Jim about buying the house in Maryland. Jim listened, not only to the words but to the implicit blame that Walter was placing on himself. "Walter....." "I should have insisted that she stay with me in Washington, Jim. I should never have let her come back here. I could have protected her there. I should have made her...." "Walter! You know better than that. When did anyone *ever* insist upon *anything* with Rae. If you had tried to keep her there she would have fought you and you know it. Don't waste your energy on this kind of thinking. It won't help anything and it'll only dig you so deep into depression that you won't be able to function." Walter smoothed the crushed hat with his hand. 'She'll never forgive me for creasing the brim.' ===== He had just closed the door after saying good-bye to the last of the family when he was hit on the side of the head by a pillow. He raised his hand to ward off another projectile. "Hey! What did *I* do?" Rae couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice, even though she was trying to sound angry. She threw another pillow. "What's the idea, putting your *feet* on my Packer hat?" She threw another. "Don't you know you're talking about the next Superbowl Champions?" A grin lit Walter's face as he picked up a pillow and threw it back at her. "Superbowl? Did I hear you say Superbowl?" He began to fire pillows at her. "How do they expect to win the Superbowl when they can't even beat Dallas?" Rae shrieked and tossed more soft missiles. "Don't worry, son. Brett and the Minister of Defense will beat the 'Boys. " "Oh, really? When?" He began to come toward her. They threw the pillows harder, laughing. When he was close enough she began to hit him with her Packer pillow. It was big and soft and didn't hurt a bit. "When they're good and ready! Anyway at least they have a better record than the Colts." Walter wrapped his arm around her waist. She wiggled and beat on him with the pillow. "At least the Colts beat the Cowboys!" He was laughing so hard that he could barely speak. He slid his free hand up along her side and began to tickle. "Keep talking like that and you'll be sleeping on the deck!" She hit his legs, but couldn't keep her aim, she was laughing too hard. "No fair, you're not ticklish!" He continued tickling until she was hanging across his arm, laughing helplessly. He picked her up off her feet and tossed her onto the sofa, then stretched out on top of her, holding his weight on his elbows. "Jim Harbaugh has more experience." He grinned into her bright eyes. "Brett Favre has a stronger arm." She pulled him down by his ear and kissed him. "The Colts have a better offensive line." He began to kiss and nibble her chin and throat. "The Packers have a better defense." She pulled his soft knit shirt out from the waist of his jeans and slid her hand up to caress his broad muscular back. "The Colts have Lindy Infante." His lips had found the sensitive spot at the hollow of her throat. Rae giggled and held his head up by his ears. "May I remind you that the *Packers* used to have Lindy Infante." Walter groaned and let his head fall to her shoulder. "I give." He looked at up at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I concede that the Packers are a good bet for the Superbowl this season. But promise me one thing?" Her voice had a skeptical tone as she answered. "What?" "Just don't call the baby 'Brett'." He covered her laughter with kisses and she wrapped her arms around him. ===== "I'm going to have to buy her a new hat." "I'll say. That one cost twenty bucks." The ghost of a smile touched Walter's lips. Jim motioned to the table where Rae's answering machine sat. "I'd better clear the messages. Most of them are probably from you or me anyway." He rewound the tape and began to play back messages. As he thought most were worried messages from Walteror himself asking Rae to call as soon as shegot back. Jim took the numbers of the few that were voice students or other teachers. He was about to stop the tape because the last one sounded like a crank call, but as he was about to his the erase button a voice began and Walter was beside him in a moment. "Whoever listens to this tape, my name is Alex Krycek. Raelene Craine is with me and she is safe. I won't harm her in any way. If you can get a message to FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner in Washington DC, tell him that....." "It ran out of tape." Jim's eyes were huge as he looked at Walter. Walter's face was a complex study of hope, relief, worry and frustration. He was sure that Krycek wouldn't be calling with demands or instructions, that was Cancer Man's domain. It also didn't make sense that he would be calling to reassure them, it wasn't Krycek's style. What could it possibly be then? Walter's voice was shaky when he spoke. "Can I take that tape, Jim? I want to have it analyzed for background sound. There might be something that will give us a clue, tell us where he was calling from." Jim nodded and fumbled the tape out of the machine. Both men hoped in their hearts that there would be *something* on it to help find Rae. ...................................................... Alex paced the room, upset and angry. After her revelation Rae had succumbed to a session of nausea and vomiting and was still in the bath. Alex had listened to her being sick, had tried to get her to let him help but, no. He was sure that she was ashamed of being sick and didn't want to show any weakness. He opened the case of crackers and pulled out a box, then got her a can of ginger ale. 'Why the *hell* couldn't Skinner have waited? What was he thinking, getting her pregnant like this? Why didn't he wait?' Rae emerged pale and drawn. She leaned for a moment on the door jamb as though dizzy. Al was at her side in a moment to help her to the bed. As she lay down the dizziness and nausea passed, and she began to feel a little color coming back into her cheeks. Al handed her the crackers and soda then knelt on the floor beside her. When her hands fumbled with the wrapping he opened the packet for her, and the soda can as well. She nodded her thanks and nibbled on the cracker, unsure if her stomach would accept it. "Jeez, Rae why couldn't he wait?" He spoke aloud the question that had bothered him since she first told him of the possibility of her pregnancy. "He should have waited until after you were married to do this." She looked at him, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?" His anger began to bubble and he rose to pace once more. "I mean Skinner should have waited until you were married to get you knocked up." His voice was louder than he intended. "He should have been more careful." "Al, I don't know what you think happened, but the last I knew of the act, it took two. I wasn't exactly an unwilling participant, you know. He didn't pin me down and say 'I'm going to get you preggers'." His voice rose a notch, she didn't understand. "But he should have been more careful. He should have taken precautions..." "Al it was an accident. I forgot to take by birth control pills. If you need to lay blame, then put it on me because Walter didn't know. Heck, *I* didn't even realize what I'd done until I got back from Washington." He voice rose as well, and the fire in her eyes made Alex realize that she was telling the truth. "But....but when he knew he should have......he should have waited or used something...." "*He did*! As soon as he knew what was happening he *did* use protection. But that was Thanksgiving weekend. I could have done something, too as soon as I suspected, but it may be my last chance, Al. This could be Walter's *and* my last chance. Its why I'm worried, it's why I'm frightened." She rose and faced him, feet planted slightly apart. "I don't want to be stuck all alone out here if something goes wrong." He voice spiraled into a shout, her fear and apprehension evident in her tone. In contrast, Alex lowered his voice. He spoke calmly, softly, hoping to reassure her. "But I'm here, Rae. I'll help you. We'll be leaving here long before you're due. We'll go to Montreal and stay until...." "I don't *want* to go to Montreal! I want to go home! I want my family and Jim and Walter! I don't want to have my baby among strangers!" Her face was flushed and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She brushed them angrily aside. "And I don't want to spend the winter chained up like a rabid animal." She yanked at the chain with each word. "Rae, stop it!" He grabbed her hand to keep her from hurting herself. Rae braced her feet and flung him over her shoulder. He fell heavily to the bare floor, taken completely by surprise. Grabbing the chain with both hands she tried to hit him with it, but he rolled aside. She leveled a blow at his head with her foot, but Alex got hold of her before her foot landed and threw her down. "Stop it! Rae, stop it! " He was shouting. He lunged across her and pinned her hands at her sides. "You're going to hurt yourself." She writhed, trying to break free. "Stop it!" He was laying completely on top of her, breathing heavily. Rae's chest was heaving with effort and frustration. Their eyes were locked in a battle of wills. Slowly Rae's expression became hard, eyes cold. "Is *this* why you brought me here, Al?" He was dumbfounded. How could she think that......? He rose slowly, rolling off her and sitting with his back turned. He put his elbows on his knees, head in hands. He sat silently for a long while, just listening to the raging storm and Rae's ragged breathing. 'She'll settle down,' he told himself. 'She's just frightened right now. She'll accept this....' Rae watched him, wondering if she'd gone too far. She really didn't know him at all, and she couldn't risk having him shut her out of the cabin in this storm. 'But I want to go home. I want to go back to the people I love.' She curled into a ball, the blaze of anger gone, replaced now by a creeping, cold fear and an empty aloneness. The wind rose in pitch, screeching through the trees and sending the snow in whirling, piling drifts. It was a huge storm, and there would be no movement in these woods for a long time to come. ............................................................ Walter was sitting watching the gentle snow fall, sipping a cup of coffee. He had decorated Rae's house with lights and put them on a timer. He'd even put up some of the indoor decorations. He wanted it to be nice for her when she....... when she.... He shook his head at the persistent thought. 'She *will* come home. She *will*.' He looked at his watch. Mulder was due any moment to give him a report. Walter's heart rose a bit at the thought that maybe Mulder and Michols had found something. But, no. If that were the case Mulder would have called. But the last Walter had heard from him was late Friday when they left for Canada. He had replayed the tape several times, listening for something *anything* that might give him a clue to where she was. But his ear couldn't distinguish between the scatter of background noise. 'Must be all those times Rae grabbed me by the ears......' He smiled a little. She would often pull his head level with hers using his ears as handles. She would caress and kiss them when they made love, or nibble and whisper in them as they cuddled. He had never thought of his ears as an erogenous zone until he met Rae. The crunch of tires in the drive brought him out of his reverie. He looked down at himself for a moment; he hadn't bothered to change out of his sweatpants and sweater. 'Well,' he thought, 'I'm sure Mulder won't mind.'He opened the door, surprised to see Scully accompanying Mulder up the snow- dusted walk. "I don't remember recalling you Agent Scully." He gestured them inside and closed the door firmly. "What did you find?" They both removed their coats and shook the fluffy snow off. They sat when Skinner waved them to chairs and looked about. "We didn't turn up anything new at the Canadian border, sir." Mulder started off while Scully studied the room. It was warm and elegant with rich florals and complimenting stripes on the furniture. Polished wooden tables held various small objects; small metal and ceramic music boxes, family photos, a small ceramic hippo. There was a library table against one wall with magazines and picture books and on the maple coffee table was a modern sculpture of two harbor seals. It was a comfortable room, designed to be lived in and enjoyed. "What about you Scully?" Her superior's voice brought her attention back to the moment. "I'm sorry, sir but I found nothing. None of the guards at the Mexican border recognize either photo and customs didn't have any record of them by name." She flipped out a small notebook and read from scribbled entries. "A Mr. Juarez told me about a foreign couple who stayed in his hotel in Nuevo Laredo for a night, but moved on in the morning. He wasn't certain about the man, but said that the woman was *not* the same as the photo of Ms Craine." "What about law enforcement?" "I either met or telephoned the Assistants in the FBI branches in that area and faxed the photos to them. I also spoke with sheriffs in Texas and New Mexico. They said they'd keep watching, but so far nothing." Scully looked up from her notes to see the naked pain in Skinner's eyes. It startled her in a man who was normally so reticent about his emotions. Anger and irritation, outrage and frustration were the only feelings anyone in the Bureau had seen this man demonstrate......until last July. Scully remembered the day that Director Andrews had given Ms Craine a tour of the Hoover Building. Skinner had been held up in meetings but Ms Craine had wanted to meet some of his agents. She had been friendly and interested. She talked intelligently with Mulder about some of his artifacts and books and with more than a passing familiarity with herself about various medical aspects of investigative technique. She had a warm, open smile that affected everyone (especially Mulder) and a quick intellect. She was easily trading quips with Mulder by the time Andrews moved on. Skinner noted the smile on Scully's face. "Would you care to share your thoughts with us Agent Scully?" His soft voice startled Scully out of her reflections. "I was just remembering Ms Craine's visit last month, sir." She spoke softly. " I.......I can understand why you're so worried about her." There was something vulnerable about the big man in casual clothes that made her want to whisper. She had only seen him in more formal dress except when he had been wounded and was headed for surgery. Now, in sweatpants and a baggy sweater with the sleeves pushed up he looked much younger. Skinner nodded. He didn't like revealing so much of himself to his agents, but in this he'd ask for help from the devil if he thought it would get Rae back. Suddenly, as if she were standing right beside him he heard Rae's voice, 'Darling, you haven't offered our guests anything to drink. Really, Walter and here you sit with a cup of your killer coffee.' A faint smile touched his face as he remembered ........ ===== Jim and Peter had stopped by to drop off some carrot cake and get instructions on the house. Walter and Rae were going to Door County to ski and shop. Walter had answered the door, barefoot and wearing sweats, holding a cup of coffee. He invited them in and directed them to the chairs. They were chatting when Rae came down the stairs. She looped her arm through Walter's and leaned up to kiss his ear. "Walter, you haven't asked our guests if they want coffee? And here you stand with that maddenly good-smelling mugfull? I'm surprised at you. I'm going to have to improve on your training." She gave him one of her brilliant grins and wandered into the kitchen to correct his faux-pas. ===== Mulder and Scully exchanged a look as their boss gazed out the window, his eyes soft, a gentle little smile on his face. They both knew he was remembering, and they both wished fervently that their news was more hopeful. Suddenly shaking out the cobwebs Skinner glanced over at them. "Would you like a cup of coffee? It's fresh." He rose and motioned toward the kitchen. When he got nods from both he went out and got the coffee tray. "I'm worried about him, Mulder." Scully kept her voice low. "This situation is putting him under enormous stress." "But we're doing everything we can. I've got a lead on a Mountie who may have seen them that night but...." "You'd never be able to get to him if he's in the high country, Mulder." Skinner's soft voice cut the younger man off. "If he's at a remote station he'll be cut off until spring." He set the tray on the table and began to pour. "There's no milk, I'm afraid. I didn't want to get anything perishable....." His voice trailed off. He cleared his throat roughly and motioned to the plate of cookies he'd brought out. "These look like Rae's homemade. She was expecting me for the weekend and oatmeal-raisin are my favorite." He sat on the sofa and picked up a cookie, but didn't eat it. He stared at it, thinking of their last evening together. How they had cuddled on the sofa and talked quietly about their plans: the wedding, the house in Maryland, the baby. How he would take off on Monday to accompany her to Gale's office for the ultrasound. Then as the time approached for him to leave Rae talked lightly about preparing for the holidays. He had promised to decorate the house if she made him a batch of cookies. She had laughed and stroked his chin; she'd think about it, she'd said. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. But she made the cookies, of course. She always gave him what he wanted, even when he didn't know what it was. Whether it be cookies or laughter, a warm hug or her trust, she gave whatever he needed with open hands and a loving heart. Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched the emotions play across Skinner's face. He had never seen his superior so expressive, and it made him acutely aware of how much was at stake. If Ms Craine wasn't found, or if she was hurt by Krycek, Skinner might begin to re-evaluate his life, his career. He might decide that further danger to himself and his fiancee was unacceptable, and resign. Or he might begin to cooperate with the shadowy group of ex-government officials who dogged Mulder's every step and undermined his search for the truth. Mulder fervently hoped that neither of those scenarios would come to pass. He had grown to respect Skinner, and to see the nature of the Assistant Director's dilemma. But, far worse than losing his only remaining ally, Mulder would be responsible for destroying yet another life. Chapter 4 Alex had been pounding and sawing on the porch for days. He always covered what ever it was when Rae was out and he worked on it for hours. She didn't even think about what it could be. Rae had often wondered what she would do if she actually had time for leisure, if she had no demands. Now she was finding out. Even though she would cook and clean, Al did just as much of this as she. He made it clear that he expected nothing from her other than her cooperation. Since the snow was piled high now around the cabin, there was no way for her to even think about escaping. Al often left the chain off during the days unless he was out hunting and only put it on when he had to sleep.. He was always careful, however to keep Rae in sight while she was free. For Rae's part she read, kept limber with exercises and yoga and began a journal. She was often buffeted by morning sickness which left her weak and tired, and by mood swings which caused her to get into screaming matches with Alex only to burst into tears. To give him credit, he tried mightily to hold his temper and usually succeeded. But on the occasions when he failed they would yell until Rae's outburst ended in a storm of crying or stony silence. Then Alex would go out and pound on his project with more fervor, coming in tired and calm. But this gray Christmas saw Alex come in from the porch beaming in absolute delight. Rae looked up from her book and couldn't help but smile at his expression. 'He looks like a kid with a secret,' she thought. "Close your eyes." Was all he said before going back out. Rae shook her head and complied. She wanted to get along with him, to trust him. So far he had shown her only kindness (except for the chain) and had even intimated that spring might bring a change that she would be happy about. She couldn't keep her heart from hoping that he was changing his mind, that he was going to let her go back home, so she tried to get along. But that hadn't stopped her from making her own plans. Come ice out she was going home, one way or another and she began making preparations to escape. She had found an old rucksack buried in a chest. She hid this under the bed and began stashing small amounts of high-energy, non-perishable food in it. She also began sharpening a couple knives, using the bed frame to hone them on. Al had not brought her any coat, other than her light ruanna and had not brought her any boots. He hadn't planned for her to be outside at all and didn't want to give her any of the tools she would need to get away. So Rae made a coat of sorts out of the extra woolen blankets and mittens from the rabbit skins she had asked Al to save for her. She heard Al come stumping in from the porch as she was making yet another mental inventory of the things she still needed if she was going to get home. "Okay, open." There in front of her was a rocking chair. It was made from rough-hewn branches with a woven twig seat. It was a little off-center and the runners looked a bit uneven, but to Rae it was beautiful. "Oh, Al! How did you ever think of it?" Her genuine delight was evident in her voice as she sat down, gingerly testing the seat before putting her full weight on it. She rocked slowly, getting the feel of the slightly bumpy runners and smoothing her hands over the log arm rests. "It's something.........someone told me once." Although his face was flushed with the cold, a deeper color came into his cheeks. "She said that pregnant women should have rocking chairs because it was good for their backs. I guess the rocking motion is supposed to soothe the baby, too." He grinned as he watched her rock. "I'll try to smooth those runners out a little more...." "Don't you dare. Its perfect, just the way it is." She was beaming and happy for the first time in a month. "How did you figure out how to build it?" Alex laughed, pleased that his gift had made her smile. She hadn't smiled at him like that since leaving Pewaukee and it gave him hope that she was beginning to adjust. "I had wood shop in school and I was always building things when I was a kid. I used to think about making something like this for........" Suddenly his eyes got a soft, far-away look. He stood staring out the window at the snow. '.... for my Amelia,' he finished silently. Rae watched him and wondered what, or who he was thinking of. She had never seen that look in Al's eyes before, but she had seen a similar one in Walter's. It usually came just before a separation; she would look up suddenly from a task and there he would be, his eyes soft and sad. That look would hit Rae right in the middle of her chest and she would go to him and wrap her arms around him. Now Al's look of profound sadness touched Rae deeply. He lowered his glance to meet hers and felt the warm compassion in her eyes. Then he lowered his face even further and put his hands in his pockets. "Merry Christmas, Rae." She felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Al I don't understand you. How can you be so thoughtful and kind, but still be so cruel?" Her voice held no rancor or bitterness, just a sadly puzzled tone as though she really didn't know what to think. "Cruel, Rae? How can I be cruel when all I'm trying to do is keep you safe and alive?" "But, Al........" "You still don't understand what was supposed to happen, do you? You still don't realize what they were going to have me do to you........ and if not me someone else, someone worse, someone who didn't care if he........ he........." He turned in frustration. Maybe he *had* been wrong, maybe he should take her back......... "But *why* ? What good would it do for anyone to hurt me? I don't know anything, I can't do anything. " He had tried to spare her, tried to explain in gentler terms what would have been in store for her at the hands of some of the others. But she still wouldn't see. "It was to get to Skinner, to make him fall in line or resign. That way a more pliable Assistant Director could be put into place. Someone who would keep Mulder under his thumb. But since his divorce Skinner has been untouchable. Attempts on his life meant nothing to him, he simply became more committed to Mulder. A lone wolf has nothing to loose. But when he met you, and when they discovered how much he cared about you they had a weakness to exploit." He looked at Rae, at her confused eyes and saw another face. He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I was supposed to break you, Rae. I was supposed to do whatever I wanted, they didn't care as long as you were so terrorized that, when you were returned to Skinner he would give up, quit." Her eyes widened, horror-filled. She had not lived her life totally sheltered, but she was certain that the things she could imagine were not a tenth as heinous as what could have happened. "Why is Mulder so dangerous, Al? Is he doing something illegal?" "No, not illegal, but his obsession with finding the truth about ...... certain matters is considered a threat to national security. He's been warned, but he won't give up and Skinner keeps protecting him, giving him way too much leeway." Al sat on the floor in front of her. "As Mulder's superior Skinner has to approve all investigations and sign the final reports. The Assistant Director is in charge of assigning resource requests and approving investigative techniques. Skinner knows that danger is inherent in what Mulder is pursuing, but he still won't bottle him up." "But *what* is Mulder after? What could be such a threat to society that somebody is willing to destroy a life for it?" Alex hesitated. It wasn't something she should know because knowing would only increase the danger to her if..... "I can't tell you, Rae." She began to speak, but he cut her off. "Because Skinner was trying to keep you out of it, and so am I. I know you're a strong person but, believe me..... you *don't* want to know." ........................................................... Walter pulled into the drive of the tidy little house a little after eight PM on Christmas Eve. There were lights draped over the trees and along the gutters and a twinkling star on the roof. He smiled in the darkness at the old, familiar decorations, ' Looks like mom made dad get up on the roof again.' There were three other vehicles parked in the drive. Two belonged to his parents, the other was his sister and brother-in-law's. He leaned back in the seat, unsure if he should go in or turn back to Maryland. He wasn't in a holiday mood. Missing Rae had become a constant ache in his heart and finding her took up every moment of his waking hours. He actually begrudged the hours of sleep that his body demanded because it took him away from the search. He had been obedient to Cancer Man's demand and had kept Mulder and Scully busy chasing obscure and low priority cases. But both still contributed what they could to his ongoing investigation of Rae's disappearance. They would check computer listings of passengers, hospital admissions and police reports from the U.S. and Canada and what they didn't look at Skinner himself would pour over for hours at a stretch. The only reason he was here in the first place was that Marshall Andrews threatened to cut off his computer access if he didn't take some time off. Andrews had checked the computer search logs and found Skinner's account incredibly high. It was the only tool left for him to keep searching and he used it unsparingly. He had put out the word on the Internet, contacting law enforcement officials in nearly every state and communicating with them on-line. When he wasn't in his office he worked from home. But Andrews knew how dangerously close to the edge Skinner was. He knew that Skinner was feeling almost crushing guilt and responsibility over Rae's abduction and was pushing himself into exhaustion. "You'll be no good to her if you get careless, Walter. If you're going to find her you have to touch *every* base, then go back and touch it again. You can't afford to let *anything* slip. But if you're exhausted your judgment begins to go, you don't make connections and the clue that would be clear as rainwater misses you because you're too tired to see it." Marshall had paced his office, then finally sat on the edge of the desk in front of his worried Assistant. "Go home, Walter. Go see your family, talk to your parents, your sister. Get yourself grounded again before you make a mistake." So here he sat on Christmas Eve, in front of his parent's Indiana home his mind in turmoil and his heart in pain. Shaking his head because further thought was counter-productive right now he got out and went up the walk to the front door. His knock was answered immediately by his mother and he was soon enveloped in her warm arms and the glow of the Christmas lamplight. The rest of the Skinner's gathered around, embracing and murmuring words of caring welcome. He was divested of his bag by his brother-in-law, Tim and ushered into the living room by his sister. Lisa was seven years younger than himself and as willowy-thin as he was muscular. 'She's the same age as Rae.....' his thoughts ran. He blinked back the burning in his eyes and pasted on a smile as he enfolded his sister in his arms. "How are you, little sis?" His voice had a slight edge to it that Lisa had only heard once before. "I'm good, big bro. Number three is on the way." She smiled and patted her still-flat tummy. "Just found out last week. Its my Christmas present to Tim." She looked up at her brother, concern in her soft brown eyes. She was like her mother in her concern for the family and her beloved brother's anguish stabbed at her with sorrow. He had sounded so happy when he called to tell them about Rae, so filled with hope and joy that it was devastating to see the tears that hovered in his eyes and to hear the emptiness in his rich voice. His phony smile didn't fool *her*. Walter knew that his attempted good humor didn't fool any of them, but he had to try. It was a holiday, he was here for a visit, he didn't want to spoil the mood. But, oh how he wished it could be different. They gathered on the soft furniture, Walter on the sofa beside his mother, Tim and Lisa on the loveseat and dad on the recliner. They spoke softly so as not to wake the little ones already asleep in the side room. They exchanged banal pleasantries about work, the town, the two kids. But behind it all was an undercurrent of unspoken questions. Finally, unable to contain herself Lisa broke the barrier. "How are you, really Walter?" "I'm hanging on. Its been hard, the leads are drying up faster than I can get to them. She's been gone nearly a month with no word and.......I.........." He swallowed hard, fighting back the break in his voice. He hung his head, "She's pregnant, too. It was an accident, we didn't plan it. We were going to push up the wedding to the 27th. " He smiled faintly, only three more days. "Walter, why didn't you tell us?" His mother held his hand, her gentle touch trying to offer comfort. "I was going to, Mom. But I didn't find out for sure until after she disappeared. I was so involved with trying to find her that I couldn't talk about it. If things had gone according to our plans I would have picked you all up tonight and we'd be on our way to Wisconsin. We'd have spent Christmas with Rae's family, had the wedding, then come back here to have New Year with you." He looked at the bright lights on the tree feeling as though everything was unreal. "But nothing worked according to our plan." ............................................................ Walter awoke in the room that had been his since childhood. He looked at the deep blue walls, at the remnants of his youth and wondered where that boy was. What had happened to that kid who was too skinny, had permanent bandages on his knees and elbows, who led the other kids nearby in war games and football? There was his letterman's jacket from high school. He was going to ask Rae if she wanted it, knowing that she liked 'funky' clothing. On the rack was his old holsters and six-shooters. His desktop was nearly hidden by trophies of all descriptions: football, track, swim team, debate. On the walls were pictures of cowboys and airplanes, his childhood passions. All around him were the trappings of his innocence - the innocence that was lost to him forever by war, wounds and disillusionment. Rae had given him back joy and laughter. She had given him the freedom to express himself and the security to trust. She had given him something as close to innocence as he would ever have again. All of his hope was with her, wherever she was. He rose wearily and decided to go for a run. He needed to move, to regain some semblance of control. His unruly emotions kept threatening to break free and he knew that, if they did he'd never be able to reign them in until they ran their course. He wasn't ready to face that right now. He left the quiet house and took to the deserted road. Tim and Lisa had spent the night, not wanting to waken the kids only to come back in the early morning. Walter knew that he would come back to a house filled with bustle and holiday excitement and he needed to work the moodiness out of his system before that happened. He ran easily, loping with his long stride in the crisp winter air. He didn't want to overdo in the chill, just work up a light sweat. He returned to the house early, the cold biting his lungs and went quietly onto the back porch. He heard voices from the kitchen and listened closely when he heard Rae's name. "How could she do this to Walter? How could she hurt him like this?" It was his mother's voice. "It's not like she left him on purpose, Mom. Walter said that she was taken away. You can't really believe she went willingly." That was Lisa. "But what was she thinking, going off like that with a man who wasn't her fiancee or husband? She should have thought more about Walter and less about that friend of hers." "I'm sure she was trying to help someone, Mom. Walter said that she's a kind person, the type who can't refuse to help a friend. Do you think he was wrong?" "He was wrong before. You know that none of us thought Sharon was right for him. They couldn't talk about anything, they had nothing in common. Then when she didn't want to have children, well it was really over then." "But he was only 23. Give him a small bit of credit for growing up, will you? He's not a kid anymore, Mom." "But he hurts, honey. And that makes *me* hurt, too. I love both of you, you know that, but Walter is so much like his father: quiet and deep, like Potter's Lake. Your Dad and brother need more understanding, more caring than most men. Sharon didn't know that and she never listened when I tried to help. This one..." "Her name is Rae, Mom." Walter came in and leaned against the door. His mother blushed, flustered. "I thought you were still asleep, dearie. Let me get you a cup of coffee, you look near frozen." But Walter caught her hand as she passed him. He held her still-pretty hand in both of his, looking down at it. "Mom, I know that you think Rae did something wrong, but she didn't. She truly *is* a kind, sweet person and she thought that this man was her friend. He asked her for help and she did what she always does: she helped. Please don't blame her, Mom. She didn't leave me, she might be in danger and......" He felt a sob welling up from the depths of his body. Dorothy Skinner pulled her big son into her arms as though he were still a boy. She rubbed his back firmly and rested his head on her sturdy shoulder. This was her little boy, her son and he was suffering a devastating hurt and confusion. More hurt than he had been when his dog died, more confused than when he lost his best friend and more alone than when he returned wounded and scarred for life from the war. Her only thought was to comfort him, to hug and warm him. Walter felt his mother's loving arms and the pure, undemanding physical contact brought him a measure of comfort. She had always been like this, ready to listen to his troubles and to wash his cares away with cookies, milk and hugs. Like Rae she gave everything to those she loved, fiercely and without reservation. Walter straightened and looked into his mother's seamed and gentle face. "She's alot like you, Mom. She always gives me what I need." Her hands brushed the tears from his cheeks, and his eyes that were so like his father's looked at her with love. "I know you'd like her. It's like she said to me the day I met her family. I was nervous and wasn't sure they'd like me, but Rae said to remember that we had our love for her in common, we couldn't help but get along." Dorothy smiled at her son's earnestness. He loved this woman so much, she simply *had* to be everything he said she was. Dorothy wouldn't accept any less for him. Her son, for all his size and strength was really just a gentle man who had been hurt too many times in his life. He deserved to have some happiness, a family, a woman's love. Dorothy just hoped that he wouldn't be disappointed again. "Did you bring any pictures of her, Walter?" Lisa had teared up herself at the sight of her brother's sadness. The last time she had seen him cry was after he returned from Vietnam. They had been talking quietly one night about the war, when tears began to roll down Walter's face. He was beginning to realize how much he'd lost: friends, comrades, trust, hope - all gone for him now. It took him many years to regain some measure of those precious losses, and now he was suffering another. He brightened at the request. "Yes, I brought a few. I have them upstairs." He took the back steps two at a time, wanting to share with them the images of his love. .......................................................... The night was dark and bitterly cold. It seemed to seep in through the very walls of the cabin. Alex hung some of the extra quilts and blankets over the windows and door to try to keep out some of the creeping cold. Rae was huddled on her bed and Alex thought briefly about going over and trying to warm her when she suddenly looked up. "Al, may I go outside for a while?" "You're joking. It's thirty below at least." He was astounded. "*Please*, Al. Just for a little while, please." She was so insistent, almost desperate that Alex questioned if she were suffering from cabin fever. He knew that being cooped in all winter did strange things to people, but he wasn't sure of the signs. "Rae........" "Please, Al. I promise I'm not going to try anything, I just need to get out for a few minutes. *Please*." Alex relented with gnawing reservations. He made certain that she was wrapped warmly in a blanket and quilt and escorted her onto the porch. Rae stood by the rail, searching the sky until her eyes lit upon the north star. There at the tail of the dipper, the trustworthy star. She took a deep breath and reached out with her heart, calling to her mate so far away........ .................................................... Walter zipped up his jacket and stood in the back yard. It was cold, and clouds were shredding in the wind, flying across the face of the quarter moon. His eyes looked up, watching the moon as she marched slowly across the black sky. Then his eyes came upon a bright star twinkling in the north. Polaris, the north star. His heart opened and he spoke to his lover, his life...... ................. A Double Soliloquy.......................... **** I miss you tonight, honey. I wish you were here, in my arms. #### Oh, Walter. I'm sorry I can't be there with you. But it's so far and you don't know where to find me. **** I'm trying to find you, Rae. Are you okay? Is the baby all right? #### I'm fine, darling and so is the baby. I'm still not showing yet, but the baby's moving. **** I bet you look beautiful. Is he taking care of you? Has he hurt you? #### I'm doing my best to keep busy, and I'm trying to eat right. Al is really being as good as he can be. He says he's trying to protect me, he hasn't done anything to hurt me. Are you okay, love? **** I try to keep busy. I have everyone I can looking for you, we're trying. Oh, honey I just want you back. I want to sleep with you beside me again. I need you to keep me warm. #### Walter you're my only love. I'm going to get back to you somehow, I promise you, darling. I'm going to get back.... **** I love you, Rae. Please take care of yourself. Don't do anything to provoke him, honey. He's dangerous. #### Please send me a sweet dream to warm me tonight, my Walter. Send me your love....... **** My heart is with you, Rae. You're my home and my life. You're the best part of me........ .................................................................... Rae felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Clouds piled in from the west, obscuring the stars and Rae felt the connection breaking. She had felt him so strongly, as though he was here with her and they were talking. 'Oh, Walter did you hear me? Please don't worry, darling. I'm safe.....' She turned and went back into the cabin with Al close on her heels. Without taking off her wrappings she sat on her bed and cried. She felt so alone, so empty and lonesome. Alex sat on his bed and watched her. As she spoke on the porch he felt the hackles on the back of his neck rise. It was as though he were listening to one side of a conversation, like being in a room overhearing a phone conversation. It had given him an eerie feeling. "Why tonight, Rae? You've never asked to go out at night before, so why now?" She looked up into his confused eyes. "It's the 27th, isn't it Al?" He nodded. "Walter and I were supposed to be married today. This would have been our wedding night." "But that..... what just happened. It was like he was here, like you were talking to him." "Al haven't you heard anything I've said this past month? Walter and I share so much more than just a physical relationship. We're bonded, joined somehow. It's more than love or need, it's more like finding the rest of yourself, even if you didn't know it was lost." She met his eyes. "Al, haven't you ever loved *anyone*? Haven't you ever wanted to share yourself completely with someone?" He paused for so long that Rae didn't think he was going to answer. But then his soft voice, steeped with sadness came from his lowered face. "I *was* in love once. Her name was Amelia. She was a secretary at the Israeli consulate." He raised his head and smiled, but his eyes were far away. "She was beautiful, tall with really dark hair and gray eyes. Her eyes could laugh and sparkle or they could be angry and cloudy. She wasn't really small, she was solid and strong. And stubborn." He chuckled. "She definitely had her own ideas about things. I was still in the Academy when we met. We were going to be married when I made SA." Rae sat up and watched him. He was deep in memory, seeing Amelia in his mind's eye. "What happened, Al? Why didn't you get married?" His face became a mask of pain and tears began to flow down his cheeks. He didn't try to stop them. "She was killed. It was an assassination attempt. They were going for the Israeli ambassador and.....Amelia....Amelia was working. If she had just *listened* to me, if she'd left at noon when she was supposed to.... but no, she was trying to finish up some work. We were supposed to go away for a long weekend and she didn't want to leave a mess for Monday morning, but she was *supposed* to leave." He choked on a sob. Rae came over to sit beside him. He didn't even notice her hand take his. "I should have kept her with me that day. I should never have let her go in." "But Al, you didn't know,,,,," "*I knew*! I knew. I knew that the assassination was set for just after noon. I tried to call her, to get her to leave. She told me she' d just be a few more minutes. There were gunshots....a lot of noise. I heard Amelia scream. Oh, god I knew! I knew and I couldn't save her." He stared out of wounded eyes, glowing green in the lamplight. "By the time I got there it was too late. They'd already taken her away. I didn't even have a chance to say goodby." "Oh, Al. I'm so sorry." "That's why I couldn't let them hurt you, Rae. You're so much like her. You're bright and kind and stubborn. You'd do anything for anybody and you're not afraid to trust people." He hung his head, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes. "After I lost Amelia I wanted to hate. I wanted to hurt people as much as I was hurting. I became an assassin because there was nothing left inside me, nothing good. It was all taken away with Amelia. But you treated me like a friend, right from the beginning. You trusted me and made me feel like I could have a home again. Its been a long time since I've had a friend, Rae. I couldn't let them destroy you. I couldn't destroy you." .................................................................. Walter felt a prickle on the back of his neck as the clouds thickened. His breathing came in gasps, as though he had been running and his pulse was racing. 'Baby, come back. I'm not done yet. Rae come back.' He returned to the house and sat at the kitchen table filled with wonder and confusion. He wasn't sure exactly what had just happened. His father came in and saw the bemused expression on his son's face. "What's the matter, son?" He went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. Leon Skinner's voice was much like his son's, rich and deep and it was obvious at a glance who Walter looked like. Leon was a massive bear of a man with broad shoulders and a slender waist. Years of work had left him somewhat thinner than his robust son, but there was still power in his body tempered by a gentleness of spirit that shone in his dark brown eyes. "I don't know, Dad. Something really strange just happened." He accepted the bottle from his father and twisted off the cap, then took a long drink. "I'm not even sure it happened at all." Walter told his father about his 'conversation' with Rae. Leon nodded, understanding. "You're connected, son. It's something rare, happens when two people share lives, experiences." He looked at Walter's wondering face. "You were just a baby when I was in Korea. You couldn't have been more than two when I got home. I was wounded over there, laid up in a MASH unit for a long time, lost alot of blood before that. For a while they didn't think I'd make it. It was your mother got me through, Walter. She talked to me, kept telling me how much you and she needed me, how much she missed me and.....well some of that is private." "But, Dad if you were wounded, you could have been hallucinating." "I thought so, too. I mean your mother couldn't possibly have known that I was dying. There hadn't even been time to get a telegram to her. We never talked about it after. I came home and went to work for my dad in the hardware store. Life got back to normal, and I tried not to think about Korea. But a few years ago you kids gave your mother and I that trip to Niagara. We did a lot of talking on that trip and I told the story to your mother. She knew, Walter. She said that she'd stand out in the back and just open her heart and tell me all the things she needed for me to hear about how she felt and about you." Leon patted his son's hand. "We're connected, Walter. Just like you and your Rae. I believe that you *were* talking to each other. The heart finds a way, son, especially when it needs to the most." Leon Skinner rose from the table and walked to the door. He was stopped momentarily by his son's soft voice. "Thanks, Dad." Chapter 5 Skinner signed the papers using the pen that Sharon had given him as an anniversary present. He had used it to sign reports, had used it to initial travel orders, had used it to write notes. He had used this pen for all those small office tasks that were a part of his job as an FBI Assistant Director, the routine, the mundane. But he had also used this pen for the momentous occasions in his life. He had signed his first official document as an AD with this pen, had signed his new ID card and his security clearances. He had used this pen to sign the divorce papers that had ended his 17 year marriage. Now it was yet another momentous occasion. Now on this 15th of January he was signing the papers that would make him the proud owner of a house in Maryland. A big house; four large bedrooms, living room, family room, library, office, finished basement...... and a master bath with a tub big enough for two. Skinner smiled faintly as he regarded the black-barreled pen. A whole new life was beginning for him. He felt more strongly than ever that Rae was going to come home, home to him and that they were going to live the rest of their lives together. However many years, no matter what happened, they would be together. He had been moved powerfully by his experience on that wintry night in December, the night he had 'spoken' to Rae. She was going to come home, they would raise their child together and maybe have more. She was coming home. So he had gone ahead and bought the house, the big house suitable to a rising FBI official and his family. A comfortable home to bring his wife and baby to. He folded the papers and put them in the envelope along with the cashier's check for the deposit. A messenger would be along to take it to the mortgage company. There were still many arrangements to make: a van to cart his things over to the house, interviews with people interested in sub-letting his apartment, security system to install. But it didn't matter, all would be ready for Rae when she came back. He looked up as his office door opened, slightly annoyed that the intruder hadn't bothered to knock. His face turned from annoyed to grim, however when he saw who the interloper was. His nose twitched at the cloud of cigarette smoke that preceded the man into the room. "I thought I told you not to smoke in here," Skinner growled. The man smiled. "You've done very well, Mr. Skinner. You've kept Mulder and his partner on one mundane assignment after another and not given them time to blow their noses. That's very good." "So when do I get my fiancee back?" "All in good time, Mr Skinner. All in good time. At the moment Mr. Krycek is incommunicado. But as soon as he resurfaces I will get a message to him that he may return with your blushing bride-to-be. I trust that you will stay true to your 'pattern' and keep Mulder out of my hair. This entire exercise is a warning, Mr. Skinner. Learn from it." The man blew another puff of smoke in Skinner's direction and left as abruptly as he had arrived. Skinner stood and walked over to the conference table. He lay his hand on the smooth, glowing wood, trying to still his breathing and calm his anger. He could happily have smashed the SOB in his smug, smiling, smoking face as look at him. But that wouldn't help get Rae back. With new energy Skinner returned to his desk. He had people from Washington to Wisconsin to California working on this. If she was still on the continent they would find her. But he had to stay cool, hold his temper. He had to perform his little tricks and seem to jump through the hoops they designed without murmur. But it stuck in his throat to cozy up to such a man as that. But his time was coming. Skinner had noticed the cough, the wheeze in the man's breath. Skinner had seen the increasing sinking of his cheeks and eyes and how the man's face became more and more deathlike. He would die, perhaps soon and Skinner would not mourn. Yes, his time was coming. Until then, until Rae was safely home, Skinner would play along. He wouldn't give Mulder or Scully any chance to get into trouble, not now while he couldn't protect them. 'But your time is coming Mr Cancerman. And when it does I'll be there.' .............................................................. Jan 25, 19-- It finally stopped blowing last night. The wind and the snow just kept coming and coming. At times it sounded like wolves howling in the dark, and I'm ashamed to admit that I was afraid. Not for any logical reason, of course, just being lonely and feeling sorry for myself. It was funny, though. All of a sudden something woke me, it had to have been about 1 or 2 in the morning only, when suddenly I sat bolt upright. I looked around and Al was sitting up, too. He just looked at me, eyes all wide and said, "Listen." Then he got up and opened the door. We both walked out onto the porch and looked out. There were still big, fluffy snowflakes falling, but the forest was so still that I could hear Al breathing beside me. I held out my hand and barely felt the snow. It was light and feathery, like down in my hand. But the snow made me sad. It reminded me of November, when Dave and Walter and I had that snowball fight. It was so much fun, getting all soaked and rolling in the snow with Walter, then going in and making hot chocolate for all of us. Then, after Dave and Char left Walter and I peeled the wet clothes off of each other and........ well I can't think of that right now. I put food aside every day, but I'm afraid to take too much. Al keeps close watch on our provisions because they have to last until spring, and up here that could be another few months. I only hope that, when the time comes I'll have enough to get to the nearest town before he gets the truck started. I'm also worried being so far away from medical help. Every once in a while, when I know I've overdone it I get a twinge in my left side. If I'm right about the date of conception I'll be three months soon. I just hope the morning sickness stops soon. I don't get sick as often, especially when I can get some fresh air, but its still about 2-3 times in a week. I asked Al about his plans for spring. He hinted in December that he might let me go home, but I can't pin him down. All he does is hedge, then he gets angry. I can see by his expression that my questions frustrate him, but what does he expect? Does he think I'm just going to sit back like a sweet little thing and accept whatever he does? I can't do that. I want to go home. I want to see Becky and have Nick pester me for a backrub. I want to go to craft shows with Cheryl and Rose and Aleta and I want to ride on Greg's Harley. I want Walter. Oh god, I want to go home......... ................................ Alex came in from the woodpile and set the stack of kindling in the corner. He looked at Rae as she sat at the table, her head down upon her hands, resting on her 'journal' - an old notebook that she'd found. He went back out and back to the old sawn log that served as his chopping block. He was still angry at her constant nagging to go home. He felt the bubbling frustration everytime she began her incessant "I want to go home" whine. He sat down dejectedly. Of course she wasn't whining. She was afraid and that was only natural for a pregnant woman, but dammit he was doing the best he could! Women had babies all the time, for heaven's sake. Why did they all make such a big issue of it? Of course he'd noticed that she was still throwing up. But it wasn't nearly as often as it was in the beginning. Pretty soon she'd stop being sick all together. After all, they'd be out of here as soon as the roads were passable. Unbidden Alex's thoughts turned to his former superior. He wondered what Skinner had that made a woman like Rae fall so hard for him. He was old, bald and a hardass to boot. Why on earth would Rae be attracted to him for? What was the indefinable something that made her speak his name with a voice unconsciously honeyed by love and desire? Alex had seen the occasional soft smile, the hazy desire in her eyes, especially when she first woke and didn't realize where she was. He'd hear her moan sometimes in her sleep and know, he'd just know that she was dreaming about Skinner. Maybe he should let her go back. He knew that he could never set foot on American soil again. He'd signed his death warrant by spiriting her away in the first place. But he was beginning to doubt that Rae would ever adjust to a life in Europe with him. He knew from their previous talks how important her family was to her. And of course there was Skinner. Maybe she was one of those women who could only be happy with roots - a home and a family and one man. Alex smiled, a one woman man. Alex realized that he'd have to keep moving if he let her go. Not that he minded. He hadn't had a home in so long that he had nothing to miss. In fact, except for these last few months he'd never stayed so long in one place. Three months in Pewaukee and now three months here. 'And she wants it so much. I never realized that she would hold out for Skinner and a baby when I could give her so much.' As if realizing for the fist time how the train of his thoughts were running Alex shook his head. "But she's not Amelia, is she?" He said to the snowy forest wall. "She's not mine......is she?" .......................... Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The meeting had been in one of the smoking conference rooms and one of the other AD's had a penchant for cigars. He looked over his office domain and realized for the hundredth time that it wasn't the smoke. It wasn't the smoke, or the lack of sleep, or even the hopelessly shrinking leads. It was the loneliness and guilt. He couldn't help thinking that if it hadn't been for him she would have been safe at home right now. She would have been spared god knew whatever Krycek was doing to her. He opened his desk drawer and took out a ridiculous keychain whose fob was in the shape of a cow. But oh, what he would have missed if he had stayed away from her. Even though he could see each mistake clearly, right from the beginning last July he couldn't find it in him to regret a moment of the time they'd been together. From her initial fear and shyness to her blossoming confidence in both herself and him, Skinner wouldn't change a day. Even the anguishing time he had spent when Rae had sent him away last October was precious to him. At least he knew that she was safe, just a phone call away in Pewaukee, Wisconsin. Not missing, not abucted, not........ He closed his eyes to an appalling inner vision that he couldn't dispel. Rae's broken body, abused and scarred rising from the melting snow. He felt a cry rising in his throat and a sharp pain in his hand. He gasped for breath and looked at the cut on his palm from the edge of the keyfob. He'd returned to Washington with such confidence after Christmas, but now he was beginning to have doubts. Bill Walthers was being pressured by his superior to close the case. The leads were just too thin, there were no witnesses and no trail to follow past that little marsh east of Allenton. None of his contacts had turned up anything new and, like Walthers were ready to cash in. He was holding markers, he knew but he didn't want to use them in case a rescue had to be mounted. There were people he could trust to help him get her back, but first they had to know where she was. Skinner shook his head and rubbed his eyes once more as the vision faded finally, leaving him feeling haunted and alone. He looked at his desk and, for a moment all the objects there looked foreign, as though they didn't belong. He picked up his pen and forced his eyes to focus on the report before him. He took a deep breath and blanked all the feeling out of his heart. Before returning to his work, however he turned in his chair and gazed quietly at the photos of Rae that graced his credenza. She smiled warmly, her eyes full of love.... and he felt a burning deep in his chest. Swallowing hard he picked up each photo, gently stacking them and put them in the storage space beneath the credenza. She was his life, his human side, but he couldn't allow his feelings to keep crashing in on him like this. At least here, in his office he had to remove all traces of her, distance himself from all emotion. It had always been easy for him before. Hell, Sharon complained that she couldn't reach out to him anymore, it's why she had wanted the divorce. He could erect walls of pure stone about his emotions and show nothing to the world. But this time it was difficult, painful. Rae had broken all the stones quickly and gently, using smiles and kisses rather than force and Skinner found that he had to construct new walls out of rubble. Construct them he did, however. He returned to the report on his desk, scowl restored to his brow, lips pressed into a tight line, eyes distant and cold. He filled in the mortar with the considerable force of his will, no more to smile or indulge in softness until she and the baby, his woman and child were returned to him. ........................................................ Feb 5, 19-- We had a bad fight this morning. I'm still shaking. I thought he was going to hit me this time, or worse. All the past came crashing down on me and I just started to cry. It was like Tom all over again, only worse. At least then I could get out, go to Jim or Rose, but here I'm all alone. I wouldn't be able to get to safety, even if I knew which direction to go. I started him off, I know, asking him about his plans, what was going to happen in the spring. It was like he didn't know what he was going to do, and asking him made him angry. I don't want to go to Montreal, I told him. I don't want to be with strangers. I guess I started to yell, and that made *him* start to yell. Then I threw a can at him and hit him in the shoulder. He came over an grabbed me by the arm, I've never seen him so angry. His face was red and his eyes wide. He held me just inches from his face and shook me hard. He told me never to ask again. That's when I did it. I hit him. Just hauled off and slapped him. He cursed and looked just like he had in San Francisco when the same thing happened. He raised his hand, as if to backslap me. I don't know what I must have looked like, but he just hovered there for a moment, then dropped his arm and went out. I didn't see where, I just crumpled. I guess I must have laid on the floor for nearly a half hour. I tried to do some work around, but I was shaking too badly. All the energy just drained out of me, so I sat down here. Its been a couple hours, and he's not back yet. The truck is still outside, so he's not far, but I don't know what to expect when he gets back. Maybe he'll figure I'm too much trouble and just take off, or maybe he'll.. ......... Rae closed her notebook at the sound of footsteps thumping on the porch. She slid the notebook under the mattress and turned her back to the door. Inside a lump of terror gnawed at her. Had she pushed him too far? "There were more rabbits in the traps. I cleaned them right away. Would you like me to cook tonight?" His voice was soft, calm. The exertion of plowing through the snow, skinning and gutting the rabbits, and the satisfaction of being able to hunt had purged his anger. Alex had stormed out, trembling with the force of his anger and frustration. The habits he had formed through his adult life, habits that had kept him alive wouldn't remain at bay. When confronted he still resorted to anger and his cold-hearted ability to strike out. No matter that he cared about Rae, that he had begun all this in an effort to keep them both safe. When she had hit him his mind filled with a blinding rage, and he could have hit or hurt her, just as he had before he got to know her. He had needed rage after Amelia's death, he'd had nothing else. Now, it was second nature to him. He thought that he could change. He thought that he could take Rae and go away, living like her brother and protector because he cared. Now he knew that he couldn't. Care as he might, she wasn't his love. She was his friend, and the only person on earth who could claim that of him, but it wasn't enough. If it had been Amelia to protect, he might behave differently. 'But if Amelia had lived I might not have been recruited by the men that want to hurt Rae. I would have gone on to be a special agent and.......' It was futile, he knew. Amelia was dead and his humanity had died with her. Oh, he could care. He could indulge himself in the ghosts of emotion, he could fool others, and even himself...... for a while. But in the end it was useless. He was a killer, no more, no less and no turning back. As he worked his line of traps and cleaned his catch, he began to come up with alternative plans. Rae couldn't know where he was going, but he still wanted to know that she was safe. She had niggled her way enough into his life that he cared about what happened to her. If he simply left her somewhere he couldn't be certain that she would get home safely. There was a firespotting tower a few miles away. If he set the cabin.... but no, they might not see it in time. But, if he got some kind of message through, something that was ambiguous enough to cause them to come take a look without giving himself away....... He'd work on something. He could always go out, after all, he had his traps to watch. He was sure he could make the tower in a good day's hike. They would have a radio, they could get through to Skinner or Mulder and he could get out long before they arrived. Rae would be safe and home, he'd be another puff of smoke. ................................................... Mulder sat on the bench, his shoulders hunched in his coat, breath coming in feathery puffs and looked at the reflecting pool. There was no one here at this hour on this cold February 20th. Winter hadn't finished with them quite yet, but soon. Spring was coming soon. He examined his reasons for being here and couldn't find any beyond hope. There were rumors in the mill that Skinner's investigation was going to be cut off. There had been no new leads, nothing but the frozen marsh, the totaled pickup and the personal items pulled from the wreck. Brad had given up, Walthers had already closed the case in Wisconsin. Even hope was waning. In the past few weeks Skinner had returned to his former self but for a few minor changes. He was colder, harder and more demanding than ever before. He was also more closed in. He said nothing anymore about the state of Rae's disappearance. He worked long hours, drove to his house in Maryland and spent the occasional weekend in Wisconsin all without saying a word. So when Mulder found the envelope on his desk after lunch today his heart rose. Inside the plain square envelope was a plain notecard. Written across it was simply: 9:30. Mulder hadn't had to ask where, although he might have wondered about who. But no matter, he was here. The voice startled him, coming from behind. It was a well-modulated, upper-class voice. The tone was one of weary elegance and command. "Alex Krycek is working on his own, Mr. Mulder." Mulder raised his head slowly. "What do you mean?" A man sat on the bench beside him. He wore no hat to cover his gray hair, but he did have on gloves. Although Mulder couldn't see them he knew that the man's hands were perfectly manicured. "Alex Krycek is not working under orders. He is following some agenda of his own." "Exactly what *were* his instructions?" "You don't need to know......:" "Yes, I *do* need to know. What were they?" The man sighed. "Alex was supposed to take the Assistant Director's fiancee and frighten her. He was to keep her for a brief time, then return her." "How long have you known?" The man rose and began to walk away. "You were going in the right direction, Mr. Mulder. You are shortly gong to get a message from someone who can help." Mulder rose and turned quickly, trying to catch him, but he was gone. Chapter 6 The phone rang....and rang until finally the machine picked it up. Dana Scully would be damned if she was going to allow the telephone to interrupt her favorite movie. She had just changed into a flannel shirt and sweat pants, made dinner and sat down when the irritating thing began. She shot the answering machine a look of pure impatience when her partner's voice urged her to pick up. "Scully, I know you're there and I know you're alone. I'm going to keep talking until you pick up. If you don't I'm going to give Danny Pendrell your address and phone number. You know what *that* will do to the Bureau rumor mill. In fact, I think I'll call him right now and....." Despite herself she lunged for the phone. "Mulder, if you so much as tell Pendrell what *state* I'm in I'll divorce you." A smile crept over her features. "What's so important that you're interrupting Katherine Hepburn?" "Oh, *that* movie." He chuckled, then got serious. "I'm on my way to Skinner's house and I want you to meet me there." Scully's flesh crawled slightly at the thought of cornering Skinner in his den. He had given them his address with the solemn admonition not to use it unless the reason was extreme. He knew that both of them, Mulder especially were still working on Ms Craine's disappearance and wanted to contacted immediately if a new development arose. But Scully was certain that he wouldn't want to be disturbed this late. In fact she wasn't sure how he'd receive them at all. Skinner had seemed very hopeful when he returned from the Christmas break. He had returned to work with renewed drive and energy. Lately, though his mood had darkened and became more depressed and distracted. Then, two weeks ago the old Skinner returned. Not the calm, patient man he had been after meeting Rae, but the reclusive, undemonstrative, uncommunicative Skinner of old - the hard-ass Marine. Scully had heard from Kimberly that he had removed all traces of his fiancee from his office. His credenza was once more bare of any personal artifacts. All that remained as a reminder of her was the sober, black leather appointment book with their entwined initials embossed in gold on the cover. She had given it to him in September and it was the only thing left of her. That was when he had returned to his cold, hard manner. Now Mulder was asking her to join him in invading Skinner's house, his sanctuary. It was to be the house he was going to bring his family to, the house he was going to live in with his wife and child. 'No,' she thought. 'This is *not* a good idea.' "Mulder, I have a bad feeling about this. He told us not to go there unless....." "Unless there was a new development. Well, Scully," he paused for a long moment, "I have one." "But...." "Just *do* it, Scully. I need to talk to both of you so that we can make plans. Besides, it makes life more interesting to live a little dangerously once in a while." ................................ March 1 19-- There's definitely a change coming. The air doesn't hurt to breathe anymore and globs of snow are falling off the trees. The snow was mixed with sleet yesterday, and today there's sun. I could swear that the snow blanket is going down. It might not be spring yet, but it *is* a thaw-- an early one, too. Al seems jittery in the last couple of days. He always seems to want to be moving. He'll jump up and go to the window or pace the cabin. When he sits to carve or read he taps his fingers or feet. Its a little disturbing to watch him because its so different from the way he's been all winter. Most of the time its been him trying to keep *me* calm. I've been afraid to say much to him since the last time, when he almost hit me. Not that I'm afraid of being hit, god knows I survived Tom. But what if he should hurt the baby? Or hurt me badly enough to keep me from getting away? I just can't take that chance. I know I've been moody, and that's just not me. I mean, I know that women are supposed to have mood swings when they're pregnant, Cheryl was a real study, but really. One minute everything will be fine, then I'll just burst into tears or yell. Al has been really nice through it all, until this week. He still talks about France, about hiding in the countryside, but then he gets this look -- this sad look and goes outside. Maybe its just the weather change. There's a certain time of year, when you know that a change is coming, but its not here yet and it drives you crazy with waiting. I hope that's all it is. ............... "I'm going to check the trap lines tomorrow, Rae." Alex looked up from his carving to see her rocking slowly and reading. He was making small toys for the baby. "I think I'll walk down the road a way, too, just to see how the grade is holding up." She looked up from her book and rested her hand on her rounded stomach. "Do you think the road will be passable? Its still awfully early." "Not passable, no. But I want to check the section by the ravine. I might have to do some repair to make it safe for the truck." He was concerned about the effects of the rain and snow melt on the gravel shoulders. The country around here was hilly, outright steep in some places. In the area where the road ran beside a small river there was a deep ravine with wooded slopes. The road was no more than a gravel logging track and had had no maintenance in the last couple years. He didn't want to take a chance on the truck tumbling over the edge and killing them both. He may have to live the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, but he still wanted to *live*. Her quiet voice broke into his thoughts. "When do you think we'll leave?" "Couple more weeks." He rose and paced to the window. There were high clouds breaking overhead, they were in for more rain. In a day or two he'd go over to the tower and see if they had a radio. "We should start deciding what we want to take along." "Do you think I'll be able to go home?" Alex turned. Her eyes were filled with hope. 'Is she thinking about *him* now?' He felt the prickle of impatience on his skin. It was always this way. She was stubbornly determined to go back. Of course she had never misled him in any way. She had been up front right from the start about her feeling for Skinner and had never promised him anything but friendship. Why did her desire to be back with Skinner bother him so much? Rae saw the brief flash of frustration in Al's face. That dark look in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed and the grim line of his mouth always made her back down. She didn't want to tip him into a rage. Even though she knew more about self defense than before, she didn't want to take a chance. The pain in her left side was growing and she was terrified what a bow there might do. But this time, for some reason she couldn't let it go. If the thaw continued for even a few days or a week she might be able to make her break. If the road became passable Al would leave and take her..... where? Wherever it was it would kill any hope she harbored about getting home. 'No! I won't let it happen. *I'm going home*!' "All you have to do is leave me in town, Al. Just leave me and drive away. I'll even wait a few days before I call home to give you a chance to get away. It'll be easier for you to travel alone. I can't move very fast anymore, and the pain in my side is getting worse. Al, please...." She swallowed hard and stopped before she began to feel frightened or irrational. "I can't so that, Rae. I won't......" "Why?!" The cry ripped out of her. She struggled to regain control, but her hope began to drain. "Why keep me? Its been three months, Al. The danger *must* be over by now. *Why* won't you let me go home?" She sprang out of the chair and started toward the door. Alex grabbed her arm as she passed him. "Rae, don't go out there like that. You'll freeze." "I'm leaving here and you can't stop me." She threw off his hand and reached for a blanket from the bed. "Dammit, I *can* stop you." This time Alex wrapped his arm around her waist and picked her up. Rae struggled, lashing out with her claws. She gasped with pain as his fingers dug into her left side and fought harder. He was dragging her to the bed and reaching for the chain. He hadn't used it since Christmastime, but now.... "Noooooooo!' She howled. Rae flailed her arms, trying to thwart his attempts to get the cuff on. As Al threw her onto the bed she fought and writhed. Alex was getting angry now. She just wouldn't stop, she wouldn't listen. Her hands were flying in all directions, eluding his grasp. She was slapping his hands away, crying out for him to stop. He blocked her voice out and grabbed her by the hair. He pulled her head back and slapped her twice, hard. The shock and fear that flooded her face was like a bucket of ice water. Her blue eyes were huge with disbelief. Dimly he saw the reddening mark on her cheek and his eyes began to cloud with tears. "Oh, Rae. I'm....." "Leave me alone! Just leave me alone." Her voice was rough, filled with hate and fear. She turned away as though she couldn't abide the sight of him. Alex fastened the cuff on her wrist and stood for a moment. His hand hovered in the air near her golden head. 'I'm sorry. Oh Rae, I'm so sorry.' He heard a sob wrack through her, a painful sound and turned to shuffle to the door. Taking his coat off the hook he left the cabin, moving as though a great weight held his limbs. Tears streamed down his face, unseen by Rae. Tears of regret and remorse. Tears of recognition for what he was and what he could not be. Tears for the loss of his only friend..... ...................... Skinner stood nervously in Director Andrew's outer office. He had been summoned here without notice and that was never a good sign. It was nearly five o'clock, and that was a worse sign. Bad news always came down at the end of the day. It had begun to rain that morning, the beginning of a thaw. The entire middle section of the continent was awash with rain and snow melt and ice was beginning to break on the lakes and rivers. Ice out was near. Perhaps the change in the weather was going to allow a quick-recovery team to get into the back areas of Ontario. Mulder's new information pointed in that direction. Perhaps Andrews has news from north of the border. He turned his head as a buzzer sounded in the assistant's desk. "You can go in now, Mr. Skinner." Director Andrews' office was situated on a high western corner of the Hoover Building. Its furnishings were elegant: mellow woods and leathers with touches of glowing pewter. Just now the glorious corner window wall was ablaze with the long rays of the westering sun, softened by a bank of vertical blinds. However, Skinner noticed none of the rooms appointments. His eyes locked on Andrews who was seated at his desk, a single sheet of paper before him. "Please take a seat, Mr. Skinner." He looked at the AD appraisingly. Skinner looked strong and healthy, as though he had resumed his daily workout routine. Reports had informed him that his temperament had evened out of late. His manner was grim and tough, but fair. Still, Andrews knew that Skinner was in a state of near-mourning over the loss of his charming, brave fiancee. That he had regained his steely control over his emotions didn't mean that he didn't have them. Skinner unbuttoned his suit coat as he sat. The leather chair was cool and firm. He glanced at the sheet of paper and felt a cold lump begin to form in his gut. "Do you have something for me, sir?" His voice was soft, but had a brittle edge. "I saw in your personnel report that agents Mulder and Scully are doing research in northern Wisconsin. What case file are they working on?" "They are continuing their investigation into Raelene's disappearance, sir. They have gotten in touch with a border official who may have information about the night she was taken." "You realize that there haven't been any new developments in this case for three months. Other than lists of unproductive computer searches and unnecessary resource requests there is nothing." He tapped the paper on his desk. "Because of this lack of progress I have been ordered to close this investigation, effective immediately." Skinner felt as though he'd been gut punched. All of the wind went out of him. His eyes narrowed and he had to remind himself to push the air in and out of his lungs. Disbelief darkened his features and he raised one dark, arched brow. "Sir, the new information Mulder obtained.... it gives us a direction..." "I'm sorry, Mr. Skinner but that information is based entirely on hearsay. There are no substantiated reports of Raelene being taken out of the country." "But, the border guard. Mulder's managed to track him down. The RCMP said that he'll be returning from the Northwest Territories within the week." He was grasping at straws, and eh knew it. He gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles whitening. "It's an order, Mr. Skinner. We must both abide by it." Skinner rose, ejecting himself from the chair, his handsome face stunned. "Marsh, you can't. I can find her. I *have* to keep trying." "I'm sorry, Walter. I can't." Skinner looked out the window, feeling his world come crashing down around his shoulders. It was gone, all of it. Not only Rae, but the institution that he had served and believed in for nearly twenty years. He returned his eye to Marshall Andrews. "My resignation will be on your desk tomorrow morning. I'll have my office cleaned out before I leave tonight." His tone took an an acid irony. "Effective immediately." He spun on his heel and walked stiffly to the door, not heeding Andrews' admonitions to reconsider. He was on his own now, deserted by the organization in which he had placed his trust. 'Very well.' He thought as he made his way along the corridors he knew so well. They were nearly empty now. The few people who were left were rushing to get home. Well, he was going to his home, too. Chapter 7 Skinner sat in this dark office making a mental list if things to do. He had put all of his personal belongings in a box: one single box after nearly twenty years. He worked into the evening clearing his desk and it was now after seven. He sat on his couch to drink one last cup of coffee before leaving this building for the last time. In the dim light from the window he looked at his empty desk. 'All the years..... ' How proud he had been to put the new nameplate Sharon had given him on that desk: Assistant Director Walter Skinner. All the work and all the sacrifice he had done to get that desk and this office - gone now. He looked up as a slice of bright light slashed the office floor. The outer door opened wider and slender figure was visible in the back light. "Walter? Are you here?" The figure pushed the door wide and stepped into the room. "May I turn on a light?" Skinner nodded and watched the man turn on the desk lamp. He moved to the chair beside Skinner's couch and motioned for permission to sit. Skinner nodded, squinting his eyes at the light. "I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to tell you....." "Save it, Marsh. I'm packed, I'll leave my ID and keys with the guard. My code clearances will be null by morning." He looked into his coffee cup. "This is even the last of the coffee. So spare me the tender goodbye speeches....." "You're not going to get anything of the kind, Assistant Director Skinner." Andrews face was hard, his voice like steel. "Your resignation *has not* been accepted. You know, just as I do that we are not allowed the luxury of questioning our orders. If we are to set an example for those under our authority we must execute our duties to the best of our abilities......." "Dammit Marsh, I'm not a recruit!" Skinner pushed himself up and stalked over to the conference table. "Give me *some* credit for knowing the rules. You're way out of line...." "No, I'm not." Andrews leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "Walter I *know* what it means to you to find Raelene. I've known you for ten years, had you over to dinner both with Sharon and alone. I've seen you at official functions. In all that time, Walter in *ten years* I have never once seen you happy." He sat back again,his voice sad. "Oh I've seen you paste a phoney smile on your face for the sake of my family. I've seen you do your duty and dance with the President's daughter, I've even heard that grunt of yours that used to pass as laughter. But I have never seen you truly, deliriously happy............... until July." Skinner squeezed his eyes shut. He knew Andrews was right. Sharon had tried, but there was always something missing between them. He wasn't sure if it had been their inability to communicate on a basic level or if there had never really been any love between them. He chuckled ruefully as he thought of Rae, and how she had turned the tables on him. It had always been Sharon trying to get *him* to speak, to open up to her. With Rae *she* was the silent one, unwilling to talk about her painful past. She had made him work for every piece of her, every clue backtracking endlessly to protect her soft, sweet heart. Then, at almost the moment when he felt as though the worst of it was over, when she had not only agreed to marry him, but wanted to move up the date, she was gone. Her and the tiny life she carried inside her. Andrews watched the slump of Skinner's shoulders and sensed the flood of emotions passing through him. He was deeply touched by the younger man's pain and loneliness. Skinner was a strong man and an honorable one. The Bureau couldn't afford to loose him, but Andrews wondered if Skinner would have the heart for his job if Raelene were lost to him forever, if she were......... Sensing Andrews calm study of him, Skinner straightened his shoulders and turned to face his superior. He saw the compassion in Andrews face and regretted his weakness. 'I'm supposed to be strong... I can't let *anyone* see a weakness.' "I'm through, Marsh. I have to find her. If Mulder's information is correct and they're in Canada Krycek will be getting ready to move soon. This thaw will continue just long enough to make the roads passable and he knows he'd be a fool to stay where he is for too long. He's a dead man whose time is up. It's ice out and if I don't move now he'll take her away, and I'll never find her." Skinner's quiet, purposeful voice penetrated the outer office. The person there listened closely. This might be their opportunity to 'kill two birds with one stone' so to speak. Skinner was resigning, going in search of his lost fiancee. When he found her in the company of Alex Krycek, there was good chance that he could loose control and kill him. With Skinner gone and Krycek finally taken care of there would be nothing standing in his way. He would have complete control of the X-Files at last. Mulder would be shut down, relegated to harmless surveillances and safe house duty. The man silently twirled a cigarette between his fingers. 'Perhaps I can help Mr. Skinner find his lost lady love.' He tapped the cigarette lightly against his lips as they curled into a smile and his eyes softened. 'A message to Interpol to release that photo might get the desired results.' ................ Officer Anders looked carefully at the photo one more time. The woman was smiling and slightly flushed, standing beside a tall, muscular, balding man. He was facing away from the camera, close to her ear as though whispering. Anders could just make out the corner of the man's mouth, curved upwards in a grin. The woman's golden hair was lustrous, like sunbeams shining through a glass of honey and her skin was very fair. Her blue suit would be conservative but for the brocaded lapels. His mind cast back to that night in December, before he'd come to this remote station. It had been so slow, so routine that night. He was going around, saying goodbye to his mates. He was walking to his truck when he turned and saw her. Her pale face was stark against the black night and her eyes puffy and red. Tears still streamed down her cheeks as their eyes met. Anders felt a shock of sorrow from those eyes and, ever since had not spent a peaceful night. All through the deep northwestern winter he had poured over the monthly parcels, looking for some notice, some news of her. It was irrational, he realized. She could have been no more than a woman having a lover's spat, a quick, blazing tearful argument. But the disturbance in his gut wouldn't go away. Something was wrong, he felt it. And Anders feelings on such things were rarely wrong. Now an early thaw was warming the land, unlocking the lakes and streams. The parcels came weekly and his radio was dependable once more. He was to have stayed through May, but the photo changed that. A less observant person would never have associated the pretty, blushing woman in the photo from Interpol with the painfully sad one at the border. Anders saw immediately that the man in the bulletin was not the driver of the truck that night. The couple in the photo were obviously intimate, his playful whisper and her answering blush made that patently clear. The man in the truck was younger and more lightly built, but even more than the physical difference was her attitude. In the photo from Interpol he sensed a joy in her at the tall man's presence. At the border there was no joy, no happiness in the presence of the man in the truck. As soon as he had seen it, Anders called to the regional office for a replacement. His next call was to dispatch, to be patched through to the number on the accompanying bulletin. "FBI Headquarters, how may I direct your call?" It was a cool, professional woman's voice. "May I speak to Special Agent Fox Mulder, please?" "One moment, I'll transfer your call." ............... Skinner opened his eyes to the dim bedroom. He lay on his back staring up at the posters on the wall. "Favre and Away" the title proclaimed as the quarterback was caught in the act of hauling the mail, looking at his target downfield. He heard the echo of Rae's laughter as he teased her about naming their baby after her favorite football player. A tear rolled down his face, trickling out of the corner of his eye. He had been lonely in Maryland in the big, empty house, but here in Pewaukee, with Rae's things all about him it was dismal. Even though it made him feel closer to her it also made her disappearance more immediate. From her favorite coffee mug (Packer, of course), to the San Francisco seals, to her personal items he felt as though she had just stepped out the door, to return in a moment. He found himself watching the doorways for her, listening for the sound of her sweet voice only to be disappointed. He rolled onto his side to look at the clock and saw the doorless closet. He promised himself that he was going to fix that hinge today. There was also the wall between the kitchen and dining room to knock out. He was going to make her kitchen bigger, a surprise. He groaned and rose. 'Who am I kidding? I just want to keep busy.... anything to keep busy.' He rubbed the two-day stubble on his cheek. He hadn't seen any point in shaving, who was there to see? 'Might as well forget about getting back to sleep. I have to go to the hardware store anyway.' He stood and pulled on his sweats and running shoes, then headed downstairs to make coffee. As the pot was brewing he fired up Rae's computer and prepared to sign into her Internet account. The coffee smelled good, it was one of Rae's favorite flavored blends. He had taken to drinking them because they were in the house, now found he enjoyed them on occasion. When her computer finally booted ('I have to get her a newer model,' he thought aimlessly.'She'd really love a P-200.'), Walter clicked on the dial-up client, but was interrupted by the doorbell. Walter was surprised to see Mulder, Scully and a tall RCMP officer. He was suddenly conscious of his rather scruffy appearance and wished he'd taken the time to shower and dress better. He chided himself harshly for showing such weakness to his agents. He opened the door and blocked the entry with his body. He squinted at the morning light and leaned on the jamb. "What do you want, Mulder?" "Sir, we've found her....... " ............. Alex lay in his bed in the dark listening to the rain and thought about what he was going to do next. He had to leave in the next day of two. The helpful young Mountie in the tower was going to be here by then, and Alex had to be gone. When he had gone to the tower two days ago he'd had a nice chat with the young man. Alex joined Officer Long for coffee and told him that he was going to try the roads. "My wife's pregnant, you see. I need to make sure I can get to a medical facility, but I don't like to leave her alone. I don't want to take her, though. I don't want to take a chance on having an accident with her in her....ah..... condition." They had parted with a handshake and Alex left Officer Long a couple rabbits from his trap line. If all went as planned he'd pull out in two days. He'd leave Rae behind, certain that Officer Long would keep his word and come to check on her. When he found her she'd certainly tell him the whole story and he'd get her home. Things had been strained between them for the past two weeks. Rae didn't say two words together to him anymore, and never started a conversation. She didn't look him in the eye anymore and she had stopped calling him her familiar 'Al'. She now referred to him as 'Alex'. Something about her use of his real name hurt him more deeply than the rest. She had told him that Al was her grampa's name and she always spoke it with a soft tenderness. It had given him a warm feeling, the way she spoke his name, even after bringing her here. She had never really wanted to stay with him but he sensed that he still had a measure of her trust. Not anymore. Her soft, monosyllabic responses to him were cold. Any reply to him was terse, icy and tinged with hatred. So he would leave and let her go home. He would make his way to Saskatchewan or Alaska, then to Russia. He would slip away to be nameless and faceless. His thoughts ground to a halt when he heard another sound in the cabin. He looked about in the dim, early morning light and saw Rae move on to her side. Then he heard the sound again. A muffled whimper, like an animal in pain...... "Rae? Are you all right?" He heard it again, followed by a gasp. He went over and knelt beside her on the floor. Her eyes were clenched tightly and there were tears flooding her cheeks. He brushed her golden hair back from her face. It was duller than it had been and her face was shockingly pale. She had seemed to get more gaunt looking, even as her stomach grew larger. It puzzled him because there was plenty of food..... "Rae, what's wrong?" His voice was filled with concern. "Al, I need a doctor. It hurts." She was crying, gasping as she spoke. She opened her eyes and looked at him, imploring. "Please, Al, take me to a doctor. I'm so scared." "It'll be okay. Don't worry, Rae. Just relax and the pain will stop." He tried desperately to comfort and calm her. If they left now all his plans would be ruined. "You're just tense, Rae. Try to relax." "I'm scared. Please, Al, please help me....." her voice trailed off into a sob. She reached out her hand to him. Al was torn. All his plans..... but she was in pain and afraid for the baby. He took her outstretched hand.... she had called him Al. He stroked her hand with his fingertips. He couldn't leave her like this. He lay his hand on her forehead. "Okay. I'll take you in to town, Rae. The road will be dangerous, though. I won't be able to drive very fast." "I don't care, Al. Please, just get me to a doctor. I don't want anything to happen to the baby." Al got up and sat beside her on the bed. He reached into his jeans pocket for the keys and unlocked the cuff on her wrist. "I have to put the carburetor back together. It'll take a few minutes. Can you dress without help?" Rae nodded and grasped his hand, holding his eyes with hers. "Al, I'm so sorry...." "It's okay. You can't help it..." He felt the blow without seeing it. There was a flash just before he lost consciousness and he tried to hold her wrist, but he slumped to the floor. "Rae...." Rae lay still for a few moments, trembling. She was shaking violently, crying and she couldn't stop. He had tried, really tried to keep her safe. He had cared for her, provided for her. It wasn't his fault that she needed another. "I'm so sorry, Al," she whispered as the skillet fell from her fingers. He was bleeding from the cut and lay still on the floor. Rae slipped down to kneel beside him and checked his pulse. She took the pillowcase off the bed and tied it around his head. He was still alive and the cabin was warm and dry so there was little chance of shock, but she covered him with a blanket anyway and slid a pillow under his head. Then she fastened the cuff to his wrist and shoved the key far between the mattress and spring. He'd find it eventually, hopefully after she'd gotten to safety. Then she reached under the bed for precious bag of supplies. She checked her food quickly, then knelt once more and removed Al's boots. It was raining and muddy out. Al's feet were bigger than hers, and his boots would be too big, but they would protect her feet from the wet and cold. She couldn't allow herself to get badly chilled. He had said that he'd taken the carb off the truck. She knew that she couldn't take the time to re-assemble it. She had no idea how long he would be out. She'd have to walk out and, with the pain in her side that wouldn't be easy. She hadn't faked or overplayed her pain and fear. It had been growing all week, increasing with her tension over the weather change, her uncertainty over Al's plans and the baby's increased activity. The little tadpole was somersaulting and turning her into a punching bag. It was reassuring to Rae because she was certain it was a good sign. But when the little one hit that left side it sent a jolt of pain through her that made her dizzy and nauseous. It would slow her down, as would the awkwardness of her belly, but she had to go now. Al was preparing to leave and she *wasn't* going with him. Every time she had been outside she had peered into the dark forest, trying to discern a path or break in the tree line. As the snow melted she began to see three small trails: two that looked like deer tracks and a larger one that was probably made by the loggers. Although the log track would probably move with more purpose, the deer track on the left ran roughly along the road for as far as she could see. The road was left of this track, and she would know if it veered sharply in that direction. All she had to do was get away from the cabin, then she could go to the road. She was certain that Al didn't have as much woodcraft as she and he would probably think she'd followed the road. It would be more logical, given her condition, it would also be faster. But she had to do the unexpected. Rae stood on the porch and tied a piece of rope tightly around her waist, fastening her makeshift coat. She looked out through the sheets of rain. She hoped he had been exaggerating when he'd said they were 'a hundred miles from nowhere'. She raised her eyes to the roiling gray clouds. "Stay with me Grampa." She said softly. "You're the one who taught me how to survive in a wood. Watch over me, Grampa. Make sure I remember everything and don't make a mistake." Then she looked out to the dark wood. "Wait for me, Walter. I'm coming home." ...................... They pulled to within a half-mile of the cabin. Skinner ordered all the vehicles to stop and the rest of the approach would be on foot. The various RCMP, FBI and CIA officers and agents piled out of the vehicles to check their gear. They had come prepared for a siege with provisions, weapons and available back-up. There were a dozen people here now and at least 8 more in reserve back in Sultan. Officer Anders had assembled the RCMP officers and located the cabin with the help of Officer Long. Dave had called in some of his buddies from his days at the CIA and the FBI agents were friends and subordinates of Skinner and Walthers. The Americans had called it a 'fishing expedition', the Canadians had simply called it a manhunt. After Alex left him, Officer Long had called down to Sault Ste Marie. He had received the same parcel as Anders, with the same photo of Rae. In the packet was also a description of the man who had visited him and given him a rabbit. He had been connected to Mulder, just as Anders had. In a matter of hours the team was assembled. Many had been contacted previously and were ready to go. The RCMP officers called upon by Anders and Long were already close by in Sault Ste Marie. Skinner, Walthers and Dave called upon everyone and anyone who might owe them a favor, or want to help. Now the team moved in cautiously. Skinner made Scully hang back because she was their only medical help. She was furious, but couldn't argue. "Rae might need medical attention, Scully. He.... he may have hurt her. I don't want you taking any potshots, just in case." His eyes were stern, but tinged with fear for his fiancee. Scully couldn't refuse him, it was too important. So she remained in the van with one of the RCMP officers. Skinner hung back in the trees as the rest advanced quietly. There was no sign of life from the cabin. The silver Blazer's (r) hood was up and the radiator cap was off. Skinner watched one of the men stick his finger in the throat of the radiator, then he signaled Skinner on the walkie-talkie. "Sabotaged, sir. Mud in the radiator." "10-4. Approach the cabin with extreme caution. Krycek is armed and most certainly dangerous." Skinner wiped the sweat off his forehead. A chill passed through him. 'Please....please let her be okay.' .............. Rae slid down the bank and fell feet first into the small creek. She was wet to the knees and elbows and covered in mud. The deer track was slimy with rain and smowmelt and her feet kept sliding around in Al's too-big boots. She had a hard time negotiating the slippery ground and had fallen more than once. She was beginning to get cold. It seeped in from her soaking clothes, up from her sodden feet, down from her dripping hair. She kept going, kept moving because she knew it was the only way to keep her circulation going. She sat for a moment, the pain in her side gnawing and tried to catch her breath. 'I have to go to the road. I can't keep this up.' She pulled herself to her feet and looked off to her left. The terrain was hilly, and some slopes were quite steep. From this angle she couldn't see the fire spotting tower that she'd noticed from a glade earlier. On her left, up a short slope she could see the gravel shoulder of the logging track about 25 yards away. There wasn't much understory yet, but the ground was brushy. It would be difficult going, the ground was sopping and treacherous. Scrambling up using her hands to help pull herself up she gradually moved up the slope and attained the road. She was exhausted and whimpering from the pain her effort gave her. She lay for a moment, feeling the cold gravel on her cheek. 'Walter.... I have to get to Walter.....' ................ Skinner watched as the first man approached the door. His hand was white-knuckled on his walkie-talkie and a frown creased his brow. His dark eyes were narrow, watching the entire field of action, watching the windows for signs of a weapon. The man entered, then held up his hand for the others to lower their weapons. Mulder went in and Skinner heard the crackle of his voice over the walkie-talkie. "She's not here......" Skinner took the distance at a run. He bolted up the steps and was in the door when he ground to a stop. He looked around desperately. Krycek was sitting on the floor, covered to the waist with a blanket, his head wrapped in a cloth. He was rubbing his head and blinking stupidly. He looked at Skinner. Skinner was across the room in two steps. He lifted Krycek by his shirt and shoved him hard against the cabin wall. "Where is she? What did you do with Rae?" He shook Krycek with each question, hitting him against the wall. "She's..... gone. I didn't hurt her, Skinner. I swear I didn't!" His voice cracked and his head was pounding. "She pasted me with a frying pan and bolted. I was just coming to when you guys got here." He tried to break Skinner's hold and locked eyes with his. The two stared at each other before Skinner turned his head to bark an order to Mulder. "Get some people to search the woods. We didn't pass anyone on the road, she must have taken to the trees. There must be tracks." He didn't watch Mulder exit, rather turned back to the man before him. He swung Krycek to the bed and threw him on it. "Now tell me why I shouldn't kill you." They were alone. Mulder was outside holding the others back, organizing the search in the woods. Scully was waiting for a signal to enter. Krycek told him about the Association's plans for Raelene. How he was planted in the school to gain her trust, to try to get her cooperation. He told Skinner about what he was supposed to do to her if she *didn't* join them, and Skinner paled. "You sorry son of a bitch. How could you get to know her and still do....... that." He spat the words, his fury rising. "I couldn't." He looked up at the dark man before him, certain that his life was going to end right here. "I couldn't. But someone else could have. Someone who *didn't* know her. I knew that you couldn't protect her completely against them. So I took her." He looked over at the bucket by the door. "Over there is a notebook. There are names, places, dates. Everything I could think of. It should be enough to protect her, and you from them." Skinner found the book and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. He walked back to the bed and held up the chain. "So you showed your 'care' of her by keeping her chained up like a dog all winter?" Krycek was about to explain when someone outside called for Skinner. "Footprints, sir. Fresh ones. The track they follow comes back to the road a mile or so down the way. She must be there by now." It was Anders. "Mulder, stay here with Krycek. Scully, you're with me. Anders?" He was already running toward the van, his long legs out pacing the others. ................ Rae had sat up wearily and opened her bag. She hoped that a little food would help get her energy back up, help her to fight off the spreading chill seeping deeper into her. She was trembling and her eyes keep drooping closed. She couldn't stop now, she *had* to get to a town. She would call home collect, have them get in touch with Walter. Jim would probably know where he was. She couldn't remember his office number. He probably wouldn't be home yet..... She started as she heard noise down the road. It sounded like an engine, and tires grating on the gravel. She thought she saw lights shining through the tree trunks. Someone was coming. Panicked, Rae got up and edged to the gravel shoulder when she heard a voice..... ............ Skinner was hanging out the van window, shining the spotlight through the trees. He strained his eyes down the road, searching for a figure. He called out often, in case she was hiding by the side of the road. He called her name. They turned a curve when he spotted a figure near the edge of the road. He leaned out further, calling out in a voice filled with joy: "Rae! Rae it's Walter! Baby, its me. Rae, wait!" Rae straightened at the sound of her lover's voice. So long she had heard it only in dreams. Now here it was, echoing warm and near through the silent woods. She raised her hand to wave frantically to him. But as she lifted her hand she felt her feet slipping as the rotten gravel disintegrated beneath her. She flailed her arms, trying to catch her balance, to no avail. She slid down the embankment and felt herself tumbling at first end over end, then into a roll. She was powerless to stop herself, tired, cold and weak as she was. All she could do was scream her lover's name, thin and shrill. "Waaaaaaallllllteeeeeer!" He felt as though his heart was going to stop as he saw her hands go up, then disappear from view. He was out of the van before Anders brought it to a stop. "Rae! Noooooooooooooooooo...........!"