This story is based on the characters and situations created by

Chris Carter, the Fox Network and 1013 Productions. The characters

named are the property of those entities and are used without

permission, although no copyright infringements are intended. The

following work is for the distribution and entertainment of fanfic and

newsgroup members only. Any further distribution of this work

without the author's consent is in violation of federal law.

No spoilers except a reference to the ep "Pusher." Probably PG-13

for violence. Some UST.

I know that you trust no one, but trust me on this:

Things are not always what they seem; read past the first part.

GET MULDER

by Gerry Hill (fox42@ix.netcom.com)

Tuesday, September 10, 1996

9:03 PM, Arlington, VA

Dana Scully was exhausted as she signalled and turned into her

partner's street. Just this one quick stop and she could get home

to her own apartment. She had just left her mother at the

hospital, and was on her way home to drop off their luggage, get a

short rest, then return to her mother's bedside. "So much for the

European vacation!" she thought. After planning this trip for

months, Dana and her mother had gotten as far as the Beltway headed

for the airport when Mrs. Scully began feeling sharp pains

radiating from her abdomen. After protesting that she would be OK,

the pains got worse, and Scully had headed for the hospital.

The doctors had confirmed Scully's diagnosis of acute appendicitis,

and had operated on her mother within the hour. She was resting

and would be out of it for quite awhile, so Scully decided to swing

by Mulder's nearby apartment on her way home. His cel phone was

apparently turned off, and his answering machine was taking

messages. This was not unusual, especially if he had brought work

home with him and didn't want to be bothered. She was sure he

would want to hear about what was happening with her mother, and

Scully also needed to let him know about the change in vacation

plans.

In the glow of the street lamps, Scully could see Mulder getting

out of his car in front of his apartment house, about half a block

down the street from her, on the left side. She saw an empty

parking space on her right and quickly grabbed it.

As she was unbuckling her seat belt, a nearby movement caught her

eye and she looked out through the windshield. Her breath caught

in her throat at the sight of a dark figure hurrying across the

street in Mulder's direction. Mulder was walking toward the front

of his car after having locked it, and had not yet seen the figure

approaching.

Scully shouted "Mulder!" in an attempt to warn him, but the window

was up and she was frantically trying to push the seat belt away

and open the door.

The attacker caught up with Mulder who turned, reaching for his

weapon. Before her partner could draw his gun, however, Scully

heard three shots and saw the flashes from the weapon held by the

assassin. It all happened in seconds, and Mulder seemed to fall in

slow motion to the street.

As Scully was screaming Mulder's name, scrambling to get free of

the car door and pulling her own weapon, the gunman took aim and

fired one more shot at Mulder's head as he lay on the ground.

There was a brief convulsive movement from the prone figure, then

he was still. The gunman turned and ran in the direction of the

shadowy apartment building as Scully brought her gun up.

A freight train hit her between the shoulders and she went down

hard, her gun flying out of her hands. A body that felt as though

it weighed twice as much as herself was holding her immobile and

saying "Keep down, there's another shooter."

She was vaguely aware that the voice belonged to AD Skinner, but

she was beyond coherent thought, fighting with all the strength she

had to get free, crying out, "Mulder!"

Skinner looked apprehensively toward Mulder's still form when

Scully screamed his name. He managed to hold her for just a minute

more, then rolled off and away from the struggling agent.

The second that Scully realized she was free, she got to her feet

and raced over to Mulder. As she approached, her heart felt as

though it were being squeezed by a fist. He lay on his back with

one leg bent under the other, his arms out and away from his body,

his head turned to one side. His eyes were closed and the

blood....God, the blood was all over him and pooling in the street

where he lay. There were three bullet wounds in his chest and one

ugly entry wound marred the left side of his forehead.

Before she could overcome the shock, Skinner was there, feeling for

a pulse at the neck artery. He looked up and shook his head.

"He's gone, Agent Scully. I'm sorry."

Scully was shaking so hard that her knees gave out and she sat next

to Mulder, not caring about the blood. She had to search for his

heartbeat for her own peace of mind, and placed her trembling

fingers against his neck, but felt nothing. She gently took his

hand in hers and let her tears flow.

EARLIER THAT SAME DAY

J. Edgar Hoover Building

3:30 PM, Tuesday

Mulder walked into Skinner's office straightening his tie and

wondering why he had been 'invited' to the inner sanctum. He and

Scully had covered all the latest with him in the morning meeting.

"Agent Mulder," Skinner acknowledged.

Mulder nodded and sat in one of the chairs facing Skinner's desk.

There was a moment of silence as Skinner tapped his pen on the

blotter, then he gave Mulder a keen look.

"I'll come straight to the point. I've been given information from

a reliable source about a 'hit' being ordered on you by a faction

of the 'shadow' government. Those orders include the caveat that

your death is to be confirmed by morning, or some heads will roll."

Mulder's expressive hazel eyes widened, but he said nothing, hoping

that Skinner was going to yell, "Just kidding!" and laugh.

Skinner, however, was perfectly serious. "The people in this

'splinter' group cannot be controlled by threats of the release of

the MJ tape information. They want your head and mean to get it.

They feel that you're too much of a danger to their power."

As Mulder began to speak, Skinner held his hand up in a gesture to

halt what he had to say.

"Locking you up in a secure area until we could deal with the

threat would be of no use. Believe me, if we sealed you into a

vault, they would get to you. They wouldn't care how many people

or structures they destroyed along with you at this point."

Mulder felt a chill and wondered if his time might be truly running

out.

"At least several days, probably more, will be needed to take care

of this rogue faction, but you don't have that much time."

Skinner hesitated, then said, "There is a way we can keep you safe

for the period needed, but it's rather drastic. Have you ever seen

the movie 'F/X?'

Mulder tried to re-focus at this abrupt change in topic. He wildly

thought for a minute that Skinner was recommending a movie he

should see.

"Uh, yeah. Special effects expert helped make it look like a

mobster is gunned down..." he faded out and stared at Skinner.

Skinner nodded. "We can make it look as though someone kills you

before this bunch has a chance to do it. But we need to move fast

if you agree. You're even in danger here in this office. And no

one is to know about this, not your partner, your mother...no one."

Mulder looked at his shoes, thinking, then shook his head. "Scully

is on a 6 PM flight to JFK, then on to London. She'll be out of

the way and wouldn't hear about all this until it's over. But my

mother is another story." He drilled Skinner with his eyes. "I

won't have her hearing that I've been murdered and have her drop

dead of a heart attack."

Skinner sighed, and said, "We should be able to..."

"'Should' be able?" he interrupted. "That's not good enough. What

if something went wrong and she *did* hear about it?" Mulder stood

and began pacing back and forth. "No. We have to make sure that

my mother knows enough not to worry." He stopped and looked at

Skinner.

"All right," Skinner conceded. "We'll have seven people in on this

instead of six. We'll let her know to ignore any news of your

death in the next twenty-four hours and to wait to hear from you.

That leaves you, me, Dan Warfield the special effects expert, the

'triggerman', and the two ambulance 'EMTs.' We'll get you to the

morgue, switch you with another body, and stash you away."

Mulder was amazed. All this just to save his miserable butt.

Skinner was continuing, "They'll be watching your every move,

obviously, so we have to jump on this fast and make the hit, or

we'll have to stand in line to whack you."

Mulder winced at that, and muttered, "Take a number."

"Yeah, something like that." Skinner got to his feet and said,

"Let's go. Janet Farley, a detective with the Washington DC police

department's SWAT team not only volunteered to 'shoot' you, but she

has offered to let us use a safe house where we can prepare this

little exercise."

As they walked to the door, he added, "I just swept my office for

bugs, found a couple and removed them. This conversation was safe,

but be careful what you say once we leave this room. We'll go out

the back way. My car is waiting for us, with Agents Nathan and

Garcia ready to get us to the safe house without a tail."

Mulder had questions, but kept his mouth shut while they made their

way through the building and out a little-used exit. As Skinner

had said, his car was idling nearby, with Garcia in the driver's

seat and Nathan in the back. As Mulder opened the rear door, he

leaned in and remarked in a whiney voice, "And my horoscope only

predicted a bad hair day." Nathan snickered appreciatively, but

Garcia just snarled, "Get the hell in and shut the door, Mulder."

Skinner missed this exchange, and, oblivious to the tension between

Garcia and Mulder, settled into the passenger seat. He was unaware

that Garcia, who was an excellent FBI agent, could not stand

Mulder. Garcia's opinion of Mulder was mostly unprintable, but

basically it was that he was a fag who was insane, but was able to

keep his job because he had connections.

While they were en route, Skinner told Mulder, "I picked these two

agents to act as EMTs when our borrowed ambulance shows up to

remove your 'body' from the crime scene. I trust them with this

job; they're both very good agents and know how to keep secrets."

Garcia's handsome latino face with the hooded eyes never changed

expression, but Nathan's mouth broke into a grin and he ducked his

head in embarrassment. Nathan was black and huge, and looked as

though he could be a stand-in for a football linebacker. He was

taller than Mulder and at least 75 pounds heavier, all muscle.

Mulder was grateful that this behemoth found him amusing and was

not as unfriendly as Garcia and some other FBI agents.

Mulder turned to look forward and commented, "So, who's idea was it

to do this at rush hour?"

The traffic was bumper to bumper and not moving much. Knowing he

was pushing it, but feeling safe because of Skinner's presence, he

asked Garcia, "I must have been out sick the day they taught this

maneuver in 'How to Lose a Tail' in the Academy."

Garcia's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel and muscles in his

jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

They finally found a break in the traffic and were moving through

the back streets a little more quickly. After another fifteen

minutes of driving, some of it back-tracking, they pulled up in

front of a boxy 70's glass-front building in a commercial/retail

type of neighborhood. The grimy six foot window had a fading sign

taped to it: "Tae Kwon Do, Hap Ki Do, and Judo."

Skinner reached the door first and walked right in; it was not

locked. They gathered at a long counter near the door and looked

out at a large empty room with wooden floors and practice mats

thrown down here and there.

The door of a room in the far right corner opened and a woman

crossed the space toward them with quick strides of her long,

shorts-clad legs. Mulder noticed right away, quick as he was, that

she was quite a knock-out with her curly dark hair, shapely figure

and, as she reached the group, her intelligent green eyes.

"Couldn't you guys try to be more conspicuous?" were her first

words. She looked at the four formidable agents in suits with

amusement. "Next time you might try wearing a neon sign that

flashes "FBI" on and off."

Skinner wryly said, "Janet Farley, gentlemen. She's with

Washington PD, and is head of the local SWAT team."

She nodded, said, "And I know who you are, so let's get on with

it." She turned and walked back toward the room in the corner.

Mulder wasn't the only one who enjoyed the view as they followed

her. Of her admirers, to give credit where credit was due, Mulder

was the only one who felt a little guilt about his chauvinism.

They were introduced to Dan Warfield, who was a free-lance special

effects expert. He was recruited for the job by Skinner, who knew

someone in the business who owed him a favor. Dan was 24 years

old, a genius at what he did, and would have asked to set this up

for the FBI anyway, just for the fun of it. He wore his long brown

hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a t-shirt (Looney Tunes are

my LIFE) and jeans.

Skinner had them all sit around the table for a strategy meeting

before getting started with the F/X details.

"It's after 5:00 PM already. We need to let Dan get started no

later than 6:00, since it will take a couple of hours to do his

thing with Mulder." He looked at Dan. "Why don't you tell us

generally what you're going to do and how the shooting will go

down?"

Dan grinned and said, "'Kay. Normally I take lots of photos of the

subject, make plaster and smear it all over his head and shoulders,

let it harden, then use the cast to make latex forms which hold the

wires and blood bags. In this case, we just don't have the time,

so I've brought some latex pieces that should work all right if we

limit the head to one wound. The rest of the rounds should be

placed in his chest, and I have a form to cover his torso for that.

There's a transmitter and receiver which will allow the blood bags

to burst in a prescribed order so the shooter will know where to

aim the gun and when to shoot the blanks." He paused to take a

breath and saw they were all intent on his explanation.

"I suggest that we make rough holes in his shirt before the

shooting, strategically placed over the blood bag locations. No

one will have the time to notice and the results will be more

realistic."

Mulder mentally said goodby to his designer shirt; his favorite and

most expensive.

Dan looked at Mulder and said, "You will park at the curb as close

to your apartment as possible, take your time getting out, lock the

door, and begin walking toward the front of your car. Janet will

step up to you and fire at your chest three times. You'll fall to

the street and then she'll fire one more round at your head." He

stopped at this point and motioned to Skinner, with, "It's all

yours."

Skinner picked up the scenario. "Janet will run into the shadows

of the apartment building, go around to the back street, and get

into her car which will have been left for her there. She'll drive

around the block and arrive at the scene in her capacity as DC

police. Mulder will continue to play dead while everyone gathers

around. She'll give approval to remove the victim at some point,

and then these two gentlemen," and he nodded at Garcia and Nathan,

will put him into a body bag and onto a stretcher, load him into an

ambulance, and take off to the morgue."

Skinner directly addressed his agents. "EMT uniforms are over

there." He pointed to a table in the back of the room. "The

ambulance you'll be driving is parked behind this building. You'll

need to stay on the phone with me after we leave here so you can

properly time when you show up at the scene. I'll ride in the

ambulance with the body," he nodded at Mulder, who smiled and waved

at the group, "and guide you to the morgue. Several people may

want to have a look at you there to satisfy themselves that you're

actually dead, then we can sneak you out of there to another safe

location for a couple of days."

He sat back in his chair and asked, "Any questions so far?"

Mulder spoke up. "Won't the medical examiner on the scene suspect

that my shelf date hasn't expired when he starts poking around?"

Skinner looked a little uncomfortable. "We haven't been able to

get around that problem, so Janet is going to use her position and

friendship with the guy to convince him to stick with just a

cursory examination, promising to explain everything later. She'll

tell him it's an 'FBI thing' and carries a top secret

classification."

Skinner said, "OK, just remember that the bad guys will be there

watching this performance, and we only have the one shot to do it

right. No matter what happens, follow the scenario, or Mulder here

is a dead man. Now, let's get to work."

Dan was first on his feet and started moving his equipment and

material onto the table near Mulder.

Janet got up and said, "Guess I'll go get into my assassin's

costume. Have fun, guys." She left the room with a parting wink

at Mulder.

He blinked. Had she *winked* at him? Was she coming on to him?

Did she have dust in her eye?"

Garcia, who had been observing this silently, said, "Unbelievable.

Spooky here gets the death sentence, and he's sittin' here figuring

on how to get Ms. SWAT into bed."

Skinner looked up from the notes he was making and snapped, "That's

enough, Agent Garcia. 'Ms SWAT' happens to be my cousin's

daughter, and I don't appreciate that kind of innuendo."

Everyone mentally said "Ooops."

Dan had prepared a section of latex, and asked Mulder to take off

his coat, tie, watch and shirt. He complied, placing his watch in

the coat pocket, then hanging his clothes over the back of a chair.

Dan had him lay his arm on the table, then fitted the piece of

latex to Mulder's forearm and wrist.

"What's that for?" Mulder asked. "You're not shooting me there,

are you?"

Dan shook his head, saying, "This is to cover your pulse points so

that when someone feels for your pulse, they won't get one."

The latex's skin color was close to Mulder's own pigmentation, and

there was even hair and the slight snaking of veins over the

surface of the material. When Dan spread some spirit gum on

Mulder's arm and applied the latex, it blended right into his body

and felt near enough to his own skin to fool anyone.

"Now I'll put one on the other arm and wrist, then you'll need one

on each side of your neck, all to hide the pulse points."

It took half an hour or more to complete this process, and the

results were amazing. "You have to know that stuff is there to see

it or to feel the difference from your own skin," Dan told Mulder.

He had not yet applied the latex to the left side of his neck,

needing to leave that until last so he could run wires under it.

Janet came breezing into the room dressed in black from head to

toe. She looked Mulder over thoroughly, but refrained from comment

and sat down to watch. Mulder shifted uncomfortably under the

scrutiny, but soon was engrossed once more in Dan's magic show.

"Now for the fun part." Dan rummaged through a large box and

selected a lightweight fiberglass form with wires embedded and

dangling at the bottom, and placed it against Mulder's torso. He

explained, "We have to cover your chest and stomach with something

that will hold the wires and blood bags, and also provide a shield

so someone won't notice the rise and fall of your chest when you

breathe."

He seemed to be satisfied with the fit, and proceeded to strap it

around Mulder's body with velcro strips. He then located several

pieces of latex and held each one in turn against the left side of

Mulder's forehead, trying to get the best fit. He at last decided

on one and applied it with spirit gum. This appliance also had

visible wires running through it, and Dan had to cover them with a

very thin second layer of latex. He left a small tear in the latex

where the blood bag would burst, allowing for the free flow of

blood. The wires were run down the side of his neck and behind the

chest cover, to emerge at the bottom with all the other wires.

Last of all, Dan applied the final latex piece to the left side of

Mulder's neck to cover the wires and pulse point.

He stepped back and critically looked things over before grabbing

Mulder's shirt and holding it against his chest. Picking up a

black felt tip marker, he drew a small X in three places on the

shirt front. "This is where he gets shot."

He handed the shirt to Nathan and asked, "Could you make holes in

the shirt the size of the Xs while I finish up here?"

Nathan happily pulled out a pocket knife and went to work on it.

Dan was strapping a small black box to Mulder's waist, saying,

"This is the receiver. Hold still while I get all the wires

attached to it."

Mulder wondered, "What would happen if someone's garage door opener

sets it all off?"

Dan just laughed, shaking his head, and kept on fiddling with the

wires. He muttered, "It can't, so don't worry about it." He

clearly didn't want to be distracted, so Mulder settled down and

let him work. He caught Janet's eye, and decided that he didn't

need a distraction either; at least not that kind. Garcia was

sitting stone-faced against the wall, so Mulder idly wound up

watching Nathan instead, who was holding the mutilated shirt up,

admiring his own handiwork.

Mulder sighed at this pitiful remnant of a once splendid example of

his sense of sartorial acumen. Then cheered up when he realized

that he could claim this destruction on his reimbursement voucher.

Although Skinner was deep in a file and his notes at the moment, he

was here to see this for himself, and would be sure to sign off on

the form. "In your dreams, Mulder," he told himself. "When did

Skinner *ever* sign one of your vouchers without a magnifying glass

and sending it back ten times first?"

Dan finished his work, finally, and Mulder was able to carefully

put his shirt back on. When he let it blouse a little bit at his

waist, the receiver was not noticeable.

"Now we get to set you up, Janet," Dan said, as he picked up

another black box similar to the one that Mulder wore. After doing

something with the settings, he strapped it around her waist, and

showed her the sequence and how to relay a signal when she fired

the weapon. They practiced it a little bit, then he ran both

Mulder and Janet through the procedure, step-by-step.

Dan finally fell back into a chair and declared, "OK, they're as

ready as they'll ever be. Good luck, guys."

(Continued in Part II)

(Same disclaimer as Part I)

GET MULDER

by Gerry Hill (Ghill52695@aol.com)

Part II

While Skinner talked with Garcia and Nathan for a minute, Janet

walked with Mulder across the large room toward the front door.

She surprised him by saying, "I know you don't remember me, Agent

Mulder, but I certainly remember you."

Mulder turned his head to look inquiringly at her.

She grinned and said, "You probably don't want to be reminded of

this, but I came in with the SWAT team after you shot Modell in the

hospital room. I saw how it affected you...and your partner." She

added, "I'm sorry," when she saw the fleeting expression of

distress cross his face.

He just nodded, then asked, "What inspired you to get involved in

this?" He vaguely waved a hand back toward the conference room.

"Walter is my mom's cousin," she replied. "He trusts me. And I'm

placed in the DCPD where I can help him from time to time.

Besides, I remembered you and wanted to help you out."

The warm brown eyes she turned on him were a little more personal

than he felt comfortable with, so he wryly said, "Encounters with

me usually have the opposite effect."

Then she surprised him again when she said, "How about dinner

tomorrow night on me if this is all cleared up by then? If it

isn't, we can make it the night after."

His hazel eyes darkened slightly as he focused on her face and he

saw an uncertainty and shyness behind the bold proposal. He moved

a few inches closer and leered, "Why, Detective Farley; are you

coming on to me?" He didn't know why he pulled that on her - she

wasn't Scully and, not knowing him all that well, she might take

offense.

She flushed a becoming pink shade and bravely stood her ground,

saying, "Hell, yes, I'm coming on to you; I would have to be blind

not to. So, are you interested?"

He blinked. Well, there it was, a clear challenge and the ball was

in his court. It was his turn to react and he leaned even closer,

touching his lips softly to hers for a moment. As he broke the

contact, she breathed, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

His thoughts turned unbidden to Scully then, wondering what she

would think of this charming little scene, knowing she would see it

immediately for what it was - lust, pure and simple.

"So what's wrong with that," he thought defensively.

They reached the front door, where Janet walked out first, looking

around for anything suspicious. It was after 8:30 and dark

already, so she was limited in what she could see on the nearly

deserted street. At her all-clear signal, Mulder quickly exited

the building and got into the back seat of Skinner's car, being

careful not to disturb any of the f/x applications with which he

was equipped. It would be embarrassing if he should suddenly begin

bleeding all over the car. Janet took the front passenger seat,

and Skinner appeared a moment later and took the wheel.

"I had Nathan move your car and leave it where it isn't being

watched, Mulder. I'll drop you at your car first, then take Janet

with me so she can get into position. You need to head on over to

your apartment and get this thing started."

They drove in silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

They reached Mulder's parked car and he was left with a wave and

smile from Janet as Skinner drove off.

Mulder made his way to his apartment, his car pretty much on

automatic pilot as his brain dwelled on the coming deadly charade.

He was all too aware that his fake death had to look good, or he

wouldn't be alive to see the sun come up. He was a little nervous,

but was otherwise fairly steady. He was just grateful that Scully

would be thousands of miles away and safe while this played itself

out.

Mulder tried to distract himself from the coming little drama, and

Janet's shorts-clad rounded bottom immediately came to mind. From

that starting point, he had no trouble recalling all her other

attributes. In practically no time he found himself approaching

his apartment.

He saw a car pull away from the curb in front, leaving an empty

parking spot. He figured that it was not an accident to have a

suddenly convenient place to park and once again was amazed at how

much Skinner had been able to arrange in such a brief period.

He took his time parallel parking, then shut the engine off. He

hoped everyone was in position, but refrained from glancing in the

rear view mirror or from swivelling his head around to look. He

took a deep breath, unsnapped the seat belt, and got out of the

car. He locked the door, then started to walk along the side of

the vehicle, expecting Janet to show up at any moment. By the time

he had reached the front headlight, his nerves were really on edge.

Suddenly Mulder's ears picked up the sound of rapid footsteps and

he turned, seeing the figure all in black quickly closing in on

him. He began reaching for his weapon, then Janet leveled the gun

at his chest and fired three times in rapid succession. Mulder

was surprised to feel the blanks hit him as well as the shocks from

the small explosions, but he was mostly fascinated seeing the blood

spurt out of his chest area. "Cool!" he thought, then let his body

recoil from the shots and become as limp as possible when he

collapsed to the street. He thought he heard his name called from

somewhere, but was too busy concentrating on dying properly to pay

any attention. He proudly thought that the convulsive movement he

gave as Janet fired the head shot was inspired.

His satisfaction at his Academy Award performance was short-lived,

however.

"Mulder!!" This time, he clearly heard the scream from..."Scully!?

Oh, my God. She saw this and thinks it's real. I can't do

this..." he frantically thought.

Racked with indecision, he temporarily opted to keep very still and

see what transpired, knowing that he could be going through a

similar murder scene later, only for real, if he screwed this up.

He heard approaching footsteps, then someone was kneeling by his

side. Mulder felt a pressure on his neck, and Skinner's voice

said, "He's gone, Agent Scully. I'm sorry."

Mulder felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach when

he realized that Scully was next to him, feeling for his pulse

herself, as if she trusted no one else to confirm that he had

permanently been ripped from her life. And he nearly gave

everything away when her trembling hands sought and held his while

she wept for him.

"This is too damned hard," he agonized, and hoped that his own

tears of frustration and pity were unnoticed in the darkness and

the blood. "She's gone through enough already because of me; and

now this." He mentally tried to reach Scully, telling her to hold

on just for a little while, and everything would be all right.

After what seemed like an eternity he heard sirens, and other

people began to arrive.

Mulder was dimly aware of the heightened level of activity around

him and of the subdued voices with questions and theories. His

concentration, however, was on Scully and their mutual grief.

Hers, though, was for losing him, while his was for the pain he was

causing her.

The small hands which held his hand so tenderly, giving him a

tangible link to Scully, suddenly slipped away. Someone was urging

her to move from his side so they could carry on with the

investigation of the crime scene. He felt her move closer to him

and held his breath as he felt incredibly soft lips press against

the corner of his mouth. He fought the instinct to respond and

ravage her delectable mouth with his, and then nothing was touching

him but the cold night air and the asphalt upon which he was lying.

Mulder singled out and followed the sound of her footsteps until he

was distracted by several bright flashes of light in his face. He

nearly blew it then but struggled to keep his features impassive

when he realized that someone was taking photos. Then his ears

picked up Skinner's distinctive Assistant Director of the Federal

Bureau of Investigation voice directing someone to do something.

All Mulder could think about now, however, was wishing that he had

not fallen with one leg bent under the other. He doubted whether

he would have any feeling in the leg when he could finally get to

his feet again.

The next person to touch him was not nearly as desirable as Scully.

He could smell after-shave mixed with some antiseptic odor, and

then latex-covered hands were probing inquisitively all over his

body. He felt a finger at his eye and was prepared when the eyelid

was raised and a light was directed at the pupil. "Well, this guy

would have to be as dumb as a box of rocks not to know I'm still

alive, with my pupil expanding and contracting like this." He

vaguely got an impression of an oriental male's face, then the

eyelid was closed. Mulder heard a soft chuckle near his head and

a whispered, "Nice job, young man." Finally the medical examiner

got to his feet and signaled that it was all right to remove the

body when they were finished.

Someone drew an outline around his body on the pavement. Mulder

hoped that whoever it was would not notice the involuntary twitch

his leg gave. The muscle was protesting the extended time in its

awkward position.

He suddenly heard Scully's anguished plea from somewhere off to his

right; "Don't leave him like that any more. Please cover him." He

was surprised, considering that she had handled more dead bodies in

every state imaginable. He wished they would hurry the hell up and

get him inside the ambulance. Scully had to be told what was going

on. He had thought that Skinner would have filled her in by now.

Mulder recognized Eldon Bennett's voice then. He was the current

head of the FBI's Violent Crimes section. "Sir, I have Wright,

Sims and Cusak on the scene trying to put this together and make

sense out of it. I've called in four more agents to handle things

from the office. We can't let them take out one of our own like

this."

Mulder was taken aback. He had been under the impression that half

those agents would have liked pull the trigger on him themselves.

Now everyone was out to "avenge" his death. Must be an image

thing, he mused.

Several more big feet approached, accompanied by a squeaky thing on

wheels. He was lifted and not-too-gently dropped onto a plastic

surface, then the body bag was zippered shut over him. He almost

sighed with relief to be in a new position, the macabre setting

lost on him for the moment.

As they wheeled him to the ambulance, Mulder could hear a muffled

sob from nearby, and cursed Skinner silently. "He's letting her

believe this just to get her honest reactions for the audience, the

bastard." Then he thought just how pissed Scully was going to be

with all of them for not telling her before now. He was no longer

so sure he wanted to face her any time soon, after all.

He heard Skinner climb in with him, then someone, probably Garcia

or Nathan, shut the doors and all was quiet for a moment. The

engine started, then they were on their way.

Skinner broke the silence first, saying, "That went well, I think,

Agent Mulder." He reached over and unzipped the body bag as far as

Mulder's midsection so he could breathe better.

"Ow. You grazed my nose with that," Mulder complained.

Skinner diplomatically refrained from commenting.

"And not to appear ungrateful for all this work on my behalf, but

why are you allowing Agent Scully to go on believing I'm dead,

sir?" Mulder clearly was angry, and his tone of voice bordered on

insolence.

Skinner looked surprised, then answered a bit testily. "She

doesn't, Agent Mulder. I took her aside after she was persuaded to

leave your body to the specialists, and told her briefly what was

going on. For a minute I thought she was going to faint dead away,

her face got so pale." He had a rueful expression when he added,

"I almost wish she had fainted because she then proceeded to read

me the riot act about putting her through what we did."

"Then the reactions after that were all an act?!" he said

wonderingly. "What a woman!"

Skinner nodded, and said, "She's going to meet us at the morgue.

I'm sure you'll have your turn getting an earful from her."

Suddenly the ambulance lurched in a high speed turn into an

alleyway, sped along for a minute, then slammed to a stop. Skinner

wildly grabbed for something to keep him from falling. Mulder

landed on the floor with a thud, entangled in the body bag.

"What the hell?" he managed, when he heard a gunshot.

Skinner was going for his gun and Mulder was desperately kicking to

get free of the bag when the doors were yanked open. Agent Nathan

stood there in the dim light from the street lamp and the interior

ambulance glow with his weapon in his hand and blood spattered over

his shirt.

Mulder was shoving the last part of the bag off his foot and

reaching down for his gun when Nathan said, "Pull it out slowly and

throw it out here, but not toward me." Mulder looked up, his hand

frozen on the butt of his weapon to see the large barrel of

Nathan's gun aimed right at his face. He was careful to comply

with his instructions. Then Nathan spoke to Skinner, but he kept

his eyes on Mulder.

"I'm sorry to involve you in this, sir, but if you drop your

weapon, you won't be harmed. They paid me to take Mulder down; not

you."

Skinner complied and dropped his gun with a clatter, but could only

stare at what he thought was one of the best and most trusted

agents in the Bureau. He finally said, "Agent Nathan, your

career..."

Nathan smiled. "With the amount of money they've deposited for me,

to paraphrase a favorite movie of mine, 'I don't need no stinkin'

career.' And I want to thank you for selecting me to help carry

off this one-act play. You would have fooled us all with this set-

up."

Skinner looked at Mulder and shrugged, then launched himself at

Nathan.

It took the big man by surprise - hell, it took *Mulder* by

surprise - but Nathan was a match for Skinner in strength, and he

had the gun. Before Mulder had a chance to do more than place one

foot toward the doors, Skinner had fallen to the ground, stunned by

the impact of his head meeting the hard surface of Nathan's weapon.

That same gun was again trained on Mulder, who backed up a step to

his former position, when Nathan said, "I'm truly sorry; I liked

you." Nathan's first bullet clipped Mulder at the top of his left

shoulder, not doing more damage because he had seen the trigger

finger tighten and had twisted to his right. The second round

smashed into the plastic and metal receiver box at his waist,

ricocheted up the outside of the fiberglass torso cover, and

whizzed past his ear. Although his stomach felt like it was on

fire and it was hard to breath, Mulder was still moving, rolling to

his left in the narrow confines of the ambulance, going for

Skinner's discarded gun. He felt like a wounded fish swimming

around in a lighted goldfish bowl; an easy target with nowhere to

hide.

A third bullet plowed a shallow furrow in his scalp, but the fourth

shot didn't seem to have any impact on his body at all. Finally

his hand closed over the heavy weapon Skinner had discarded, and

Mulder swung it upward, feeling that he was moving in slow motion,

knowing that he was going to be too late.

When he faced the doors again and realized that he was still alive,

he was surprised. Nathan lay on the ground, obviously dead, with

a bloody Garcia standing over him. The fourth gunshot had been to

Nathan's head at fairly close range.

"You should've aimed better, you piece of shit," Garcia snarled at

the dead man. He held one hand with a bunched-up cloth to the side

of his head, and the cloth was saturated in blood.

Garcia looked up at the equally bloodied Mulder and grinned, but

there wasn't much humor in it. "Ain't we a friggin' pair? Any

more of this and we'll need our own blood bank for supplies."

He leaned over and helped a dazed Skinner to his feet, then punched

buttons on his cellular phone.

"What are you doing?" Mulder demanded. I'm still the Target of the

Month in these parts. Who are you calling?"

Garcia stopped punching in numbers and looked contemptuously at

him. "The cops, of course. We've had a shooting and a death in

case you haven't noticed. You can just climb back into your body

bag and keep your trap shut. They already know that you're dead

and shouldn't bother with you."

Skinner spoke up. "You can't assume that Agent Nathan didn't

inform his...employers about our scheme here. They probably know

that Mulder's not dead and will come after him."

Garcia held his gaze and said thoughtfully, "No, I don't think he

contacted anyone after you pulled us into this. Not in any way

that he could outline what was going on, at least. He was with me

all the time."

While this was going on, Mulder had painfully picked the body bag

up from the floor of the ambulance and was standing in a bent

position while spreading it carefully on the gurney. Skinner

noticed, and asked, "Where were you hit, Mulder?"

Skinner walked up to the ambulance entrance and climbed back into

the vehicle. He touched Mulder's scalp wound, and was rewarded

with a hissing intake of breath. "That's not too bad. What else?"

"Easy for you to say," was the muttered response. Mulder's hand

went to the shattered box at his waist, and began pulling at the

remnants of the straps to remove it. He said, "My left shoulder

got clipped, and then a round hit this thingamajig."

Skinner helped him remove the remains of the box, disconnecting any

wires that were still attached, then he pulled aside his shirt

bottom to expose the raw skin where the bullet had slammed the box

against the left side of his stomach. Skinner winced at the

rapidly-forming bruise, and said, "That's gonna hurt."

Mulder spoke through clenched teeth, "It already does." He tucked

the shirt very carefully back into his pants and used Skinner's arm

to help him up onto the gurney. The bruised area was really

beginning to hurt now, and he hoped there was no internal damage.

Garcia spoke up as he disconnected the phone. "The cops, including

Janet Farley, will be here any minute. Janet insisted on another

ambulance, since this one will be part of the crime scene. They'll

use it to transport Mulder to the morgue after they run me by the

hospital." Then he fell over in a dead faint.

Skinner rushed to his side, blaming himself for not realizing the

severity of the agent's wound. His vitals seemed OK, however;

probably the loss of blood caused him to pass out. He looked up as

he heard a siren, and saw a police car turn into the alleyway. A

glance back in Mulder's direction reassured him that he was once

again zipped out of sight within the bag.

The car stopped some twenty feet away and Skinner saw Janet and

Agent Scully fly out the doors. They quickly reached his side, and

began the questions. While Skinner quietly filled them in, other

police cars were arriving, but soon had to make room for the

ambulance to pull in. Garcia received medical attention and was

bundled into the ambulance, then Scully broke from the group and

supervised moving Mulder into the vehicle, also. Because of the

space restriction, Mulder's body bag was placed on the floor along

the inner wall of the ambulance to make room for Garcia's gurney

and EMT attending him. Grim-faced, Scully managed to squeeze into

a small pocket of space between Mulder's covered head and the cab

of the vehicle.

She didn't make an attempt to talk to Mulder, not with the EMT

practically in her lap. She did ask loudly, however, how Garcia

was doing, primarily to let Mulder know that she was there.

The EMT, Broyhill from his nametag, said that he wasn't sure, but

it looked as though the bullet may have bounced off his thick

skull, giving him a concussion, and he had lost a lot of blood.

While nodding at this information, Scully noticed the bag at her

feet was moving around. She looked up at Broyhill in concern, but

the EMT was busy with Garcia and didn't notice it. She discreetly

nudged the bag with the side of her foot, not very hard, but the

bag moved even more.

Squatting down next to Mulder, she pulled the zipper down a short

way and hissed, "What?!"

"Ow! You got my nose!"

She just gave him the patented "Scully" look and waited.

He whispered, "It's been a long day with no bathroom breaks,

Scully." His eyes expressed a terribly basic, urgent need.

"Oh, great," she thought, and wondered what they could do without

giving away the fact that he was very much alive and in need of a

pee.

(Continued in Part III)

(Same disclaimer as in Part I)

GET MULDER

by Gerry Hill (GHill52695@aol.com)

Part III

They were turning into the emergency loop at the hospital, so

Scully zipped the bag closed over Mulder's face again, and got out

of the ambulance when it came to a stop. While Broyhill and the

EMT who drove the ambulance unloaded Garcia and took him through

the emergency entrance, she scouted around for a way to "relieve"

Mulder's problem.

Just their luck; too many people in the area, and no nearby

restrooms. It wasn't secluded enough for him to go outside behind

something, either. He would be spotted and all this would have

been for nothing. He'll just have to hold it, she heartlessly

thought.

"You'll just have to hold it," she told him when she had re-entered

the ambulance.

A whimper sounded from the depths of the bag.

"The EMTs are coming back. Keep still and we'll be at the morgue

in no time. You can find a bathroom there." She really did feel

sorry for him, but there simply was nothing she could do.

Broyhill sat in back with her, entertaining the pretty FBI agent

with gory EMT stories. With what she and Mulder had seen in their

cases, Scully could have told him tales that would have curled his

hair, but politely refrained.

She was seated on a metal chair/shelf that was affixed to the wall,

with her feet touching the body bag on the floor. Broyhill sat

across from her, still being sociable.

"Did you know the stiff?" he nodded toward the bag.

Scully tiredly closed her eyes, wishing she could disavow all

knowledge of the secretive, maddening, tempermental, arrogant,

brilliant, kind, and pig-headed man lying at her feet suffering

from a very painful bladder, but she opened her eyes again and

admitted, "He's...he was my partner. FBI."

Broyhill looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't know... Hey,

we're at the morgue." He didn't notice that two sighs of relief

followed his announcement.

The two EMTS grabbed opposite ends of the body bag and carried it

inside the automatic sliding glass doors of the building, where an

empty gurney was sitting. They tossed the bag onto it and rolled

their burden into an elevator with Scully close on their heels.

When the group arrived at the basement floor which housed the body

storage area, they approached a desk where a fidgety guy in his

late twenties sat watching them with a mixture of apprehension.

He pushed his slipping glasses higher on his nose and asked, "Is

this the FBI agent?"

At their nods, he said, "Well, there's a group of people in there

waiting to view the body. I've never had so much interest in

someone before, at least not prior to receiving the corpse." He

seemed nervous, and never stopped fidgeting while the EMTs filled

out a couple of admittance forms.

Scully knew that they had to run the gauntlet before Mulder would

be able to go into hiding, but she was hoping for a slight reprieve

so she could make sure he still looked the part of a dead Mulder.

And Skinner had said he had been wounded by Agent Nathan, but not

seriously. She wanted to make sure he was OK in that department,

too. Oh, well. It seemed that any plan they made was doomed to be

changed or screwed up lately.

She followed the gurney into a large room, where they found three

men with expressions that meant business. They all wore suits and

Scully could see they carried weapons. They wasted no time in

approaching the gurney. The tallest of the three had a hawk-like

face and had blond hair and blue eyes. He was the one to reach the

gurney first, and reach for the bag. The opening zipper sounded

very loud in the large hard-surfaced room. The man pulled the bag

aside, and they all gathered around the body.

As a medical doctor who worked with dead people all the time,

Scully could have sworn that she was looking at a corpse. Mulder's

black facial stubble starkly showed up against the pallor of his

skin. The blood was everywhere on him, especially in the area of

his forehead where a gaping wound was exposed. Another smaller

tear in his scalp looked non-lethal. His shirt was saturated with

blood and had three bullet holes, all in the area of the heart.

There was a tear in his jacket at the top of his shoulder where

another bullet had taken a bite, and some blood stained the cloth.

The tall man held two fingers against Mulder's neck, then moved to

take his pulse at his wrist. He let the arm fall limply back to

the gurney's surface and turned to the other two men.

"He is dead."

And that was it. The group, including the EMTs, left the room,

leaving Scully to stare at Mulder, feeling a terrible fear creep

into her mind. She had the horrible thought that perhaps the

second, "real," attack on him had wounded him, and he had bled to

death while she was sitting right next to him in the ambulance.

She jumped a foot when he suddenly whispered, "I'm dyin' here,

Scully. Bathroom?"

She took a breath to steady herself, and looked around the room.

There was a door with a man and woman symbol on it, so she assumed

it was a coed bathroom.

"Let me help you, Mulder, then I had better go watch the door to

the corridor." She got her arm under his shoulder, and he grimaced

as he tried to sit up.

"Aaah. That...hurts." His hand was clutching his right side at

his waist, and Scully pulled his hand away to see what was wrong.

She pulled his shirt aside, shoved the torso protector upward, and

tugged his waistband down a bit. Her eyes widened at the sight.

An area the size of her hand was deep purple and black, and some of

it extended up the side of his belly a few inches. She hoped it

was only a bad bruise and not something worse.

"Let me wheel you on this thing up to the door, then you won't have

so far to walk. That looks really painful."

He lay back with a sigh and said, "Not as painful as my nose; they

got it again when they unzipped the bag. I know it's going to be

black and blue." Scully hid a smile as she pushed the gurney

across the room toward the current focus of Mulder's attention.

He could barely get off the gurney, much less stand when they

reached the door. He finally did make it inside, although he had

to walk bent over and shuffle one foot along at a time.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Scully offered, her brow

wrinkled in concern.

Mulder just snorted, and said, "As if." The door shut behind him.

Scully thought, "Now, all we need is for someone to come in and

want to know why a dead person has to use the facilities."

And at that moment the doors to the corridor did open, but it was

Skinner who strode into the room, followed by Detective Farley.

Skinner wore his usual Assistant Director/God expression, but Janet

looked tired and concerned.

"We had to leave the Nathan crime scene in some very bewildered

agents' and detectives' hands, but we needed to get Mulder out of

here to the safe house." He looked pointedly at the empty bag open

on the gurney.

Scully cocked a thumb back toward the bathroom door and murmured,

"Pee break." Then she wanted to know, "What the hell happened to

his belly?"

"A bullet from Agent Nathan's gun hit the receiver strapped to

Mulder's waist. It shattered, but deflected the round."

Janet asked, "Has anyone been here yet to get a look at our

favorite corpse?"

Scully told them about the visitors, and Janet expressed her

opinion that there would probably be a few more curious suits

checking on Mulder's demise before long.

Skinner was getting impatient. "What's taking so long? Someone

may come in at any moment, and he'll be in there."

Scully shrugged and said, "Nature called."

"Well it damn well better hang up the phone in 15 seconds," was the

sharp reply.

Scully's ears detected a faint 'Help!' from behind the door of the

bathroom and had the door open in a flash, Skinner and Janet right

behind her. They saw Mulder leaning against the tiled wall, bent

at the waist with his right shoulder against the cool surface. He

was apparently through with the bathroom, but had not made it all

the way out.

"My God, he looks horrible," Scully was thinking for the second

time that night. Janet spoke up, "God, you look horrible, Agent

Mulder." He managed a half-hearted smile that turned into a

grimace.

Scully, with Skinner's help, assisted Mulder as he made his slow

way back to the gurney. He was in a great deal of pain now, and

she winced in sympathy when he had to lie back. Obviously, it felt

better to stay folded over his injury; stretching out was agony for

him. Janet had removed the messy body bag, and he said to himself,

with relief, "Good. No more zipper."

Her worried gaze met Skinner's and she murmured, "He has to be

checked out, and soon. There could be internal bleeding."

Mulder gasped, "I heard that."

Scully touched his hand reassuringly and said, "Not much longer,

now." She knew that they were playing a dangerous game delaying

medical care and treatment like this, but from what she had been

told, there was no other choice right now. It was as simple as

being alive with only a chance of dying, as opposed to offering up

your bared throat for the sure kill.

She noticed with annoyance that Janet was tenderly brushing some

stray locks of Mulder's hair from his forehead, and wondered what

*that* was all about. Then she forgot about the tender scene when

two men came briskly walking into the room.

They nodded at the group, but headed straight for Mulder, who was

again looking disturbingly deceased.

They departed after only a few moments' examination, seemingly

satisfied. They had not said a word the entire time.

When they were gone, Scully said, "He needs that hospital. I have

a friend at Doctors' on the Beltway who can set up the exam and

tests right now."

Skinner agreed, saying, "I'll tell the guy out front that we're

taking him for an autopsy, that the FBI is going to do it rather

than the ME staff. Let's go."

Janet found a sheet in a drawer and threw it over Mulder. By the

time they had wheeled him out into the reception area, Skinner had

already gone through his explanation to the guy at the desk.

Kevin Johnson, the young man behind the desk, had listened to all

this, fascinated. The medical examiner had called him earlier,

telling him to allow the various federal and local authorities all

the access they wanted to the FBI agent's body, and to stay

completely away from it all. The ME would come in later and get

the normal routine started. Now he was being told that the body

was being removed.

"You'll have to sign these documents if you want to take him out

again," he told Skinner.

While Skinner looked over the paperwork and signed it, Johnson

remarked, "Busy night. Another agent is due in here shortly. Will

you be removing him, too?"

Skinner just shook his head; Nathan would stay at the morgue.

Scully used her cel phone to call her mother's doctor to see how

she was doing. The doctor told her that she had come out of the

operation quite well, and had not yet awakened. Scully told him

that some work-related emergency had come up, and she would call

back later.

Her next call was to her medical contacts, to make arrangements for

Mulder to be discreetly seen at Doctor's Hospital in about half an

hour. While on the phone, she had been following the gurney and

watched as Skinner and Detective Farley helped Mulder off and into

the back seat of the car. Janet climbed into the other side of the

back seat, where she was doing something energetic with Mulder.

Scully squinted but couldn't quite tell what was going on.

She opened the passenger front door and peered over the seats to

see that Janet had unbuttoned Mulder's shirt, pulled it open, and

was trying to unfasten the straps which held the torso cover in

place. Mulder's eyes were closed, and he wasn't doing much to

help.

Janet looked up at Scully and said, "He'll be more comfortable with

this off. Give me a hand, would you?"

Embarrassed that she had not thought to take it off first, she got

out and opened Mulder's door. Leaning in, she reached around his

waist under his shirt to the back, trying not to touch his wound,

and finally located some fastening points. She got them loose and

pulled the straps free. Mulder suddenly opened his eyes, taking in

the two females who were working so hard to undress him.

"Just my luck to be too injured to take advantage of *this*

scenario," he murmured.

Janet said, "Behave yourself. At least for now," and she winked at

him.

Mulder and Scully both just looked at her with mouths open, then

the torso cover came free. Scully shoved it toward Janet, while

she re-buttoned what was left of Mulder's shirt. Finished, she

looked up into a pair of warm hazel eyes, and she responded without

thinking, giving him a quick kiss on the rough cheek.

Her face aflame with her impetuousness in front of other people,

Scully avoided Mulder's gaze and got out of the car. She slammed

his door shut, and got into the front seat, where Skinner was doing

his best to look preoccupied and oblivious.

Scully filled him in on the location of the hospital, and they were

on their way.

Mulder's brain, meanwhile, was going a mile a minute. That was the

second time that Scully had kissed him today. Well, OK, the first

was when she thought he was dead, so that really didn't count. And

the second was just on his cheek. OK, so maybe neither one counted

as *real* kisses. But they sure felt real. Those soft, full, warm

lips on his skin had felt perfectly wonderful, as a matter of fact.

He was brought back to the world when Janet put her hand on his arm

and asked, "How are you feeling?"

The smile he gave her made Janet's heart do a little skip, but she

didn't realize that someone else had inspired that smile.

When they reached the hospital, Skinner helped them get Mulder

where he needed to go with as much discretion as possible. He then

left the car with the group, taking a taxi back to the office to

coordinate the effort to neutralize Mulder's would-be assassins so

things could hopefully get back to normal. At least to what passed

for normal where the X Files were concerned. He might even get a

minute or two of rest. It was, after all, 2AM.

He felt secure in leaving the Mulder problem in Janet's and Agent

Scully's hands for a day or two. He smiled at the thought,

wondering who would drive who crazy first, betting that the women

would wind up with the upper hand. The cab bore him through the

deserted early-morning streets as he gave a huge yawn.

While Janet waited in the main admitting area, Scully, based on her

credentials as a medical doctor and on her friendship with the

chief surgeon, was in the cubicle where another friend, Doctor Bill

Sanderson, was just finishing Mulder's examination. Blood had

already gone to the lab, and an MRI was scheduled, although the

doctor didn't feel that it would be necessary.

"He has a slight abrasion on the top of his nose, along with some

faint scratches - nothing serious there."

Mulder lay next to them on the examining table, wondering why all

doctors talked over their patients as if they weren't there. He

tentatively touched his nose and thought that it felt worse than

what the doctor said was wrong with it.

Doctor Sanderson was continuing, "A strip of flesh is gone from the

top of his left shoulder; there's a furrow in his scalp; and he has

a deep bruise in the right lower abdominal area. None of the

injuries were serious, although the bruising is bad and will be

painful for a few days. He took quite a punch there, and he was

lucky something didn't get ruptured."

"We were afraid of internal bleeding," Scully commented with

relief.

"No, it seems to be OK. I've dressed the minor wounds, and given

him a shot of antibiotics and one for the pain." He handed her

piece of paper. "This lists the treatment performed, the

medication given, and further treatment recommended."

Doctor Sanderson looked at the heap of latex and wires and blood-

stained clothing on the counter next to him and added, "I'll have

to say this was a first for me. I thought we had a miracle with a

patient still alive after taking three gunshots to the heart area

and one in the head." They both laughed at that.

Mulder felt grumpy and ignored. He wanted to hurry up and get out

of there; this doctor was too cheerful for his liking, and Scully

seemed to be awfully friendly with him. The examining gown was too

short and the air conditioning was set too cold. His dignity was

threatened with Scully in the room, and he wished she would go away

so he could put some clothes on.

Wait a minute. The only clothes he had with him were ruined and in

a heap over on the counter. His pants were OK, although some

bloodstains were on them, too. Hell. Now what.

"I need some clothes," he stated to the room.

Scully and Dr. Sanderson were too busy swapping doctor lingo to

notice that Mulder had spoken.

He rolled to his good side, wincing from the pain, and hung his

bare feet over the side of the table. Holding his gown shut in

back, he hopped to the (cold) floor and peeked through the curtain

into the waiting area. Aha! Janet was sitting there gazing into

space, bored to tears. He caught her eye with a waving hand, and

she focused, then smiled, then got up and walked over to him.

"I need clothes," he whispered.

She blinked. He could see her processing the thought, then she

exclaimed, "In the trunk of the car. There were some changes

stashed there for Nathan and Garcia for when we took you to the

safe house. I'll go grab some stuff."

Scully broke off talking with Dr. Sanderson when she noticed that

Mulder was no longer on the table. She swiveled and saw his bare

butt inadequately covered by the pieces of the gown gripped in his

fist, as he leaned out of the curtain.

Suppressing a smile, she asked, "Mulder, what on earth are you

doing?"

He jumped, winced when it hurt, and turned around to face them.

"I need clothes," he repeated the mantra.

"Oh, that's right. Yours are ruined." She looked stumped as to

where to find clothes for him at that hour of the morning; they

couldn't go back to his apartment until it was all clear.

Then Janet triumphantly walked into the room with a stack of

assorted men's clothing and dropped it onto the table.

Mulder was elated. "Thank you," he said said emphatically, a

grateful look in the gaze he turned on her. "Now, if everyone will

clear out of here..."

Dr. Sanderson took pity on the poor guy and shooed everyone out of

the cubicle so he could get dressed in peace.

Mulder was already seated and pulling on socks before the last

person left the room. He found that Nathan's jeans were way too

huge. Garcia's were OK, although a bit tight in the crotch and

legs, but the waistband was about right, though, so he wore those.

The gray sweatshirt with "Property of Lola" stenciled in hot pink

on the left side of the upper front portion was a universal size,

so he put that on. He hated to wear dress shoes with jeans and a

sweatshirt, but he didn't have much choice.

When he left the cubicle, he got the once-over from all three

companions. The women looked approving, so he relaxed. Until

Scully moved closer to him, stood on tiptoes, and whispered, "I

wouldn't sit down if I were you, Mulder. It might affect future

reproductive abilities."

He blushed and grinned down at her. "Why, Scully. I wasn't aware

that you noticed things like that."

The response, "Always, Mulder," surprised him, and he tried to

catch her eye, but she had moved away toward the doctor. She took

Sanderson's hand and thanked him for all he had done, and she

promised to come by when this was over and straighten everything

out, including buying him lunch and explaining what was going on.

With Mulder lagging behind, they reached the car and Janet claimed

the driver's seat. After several attempts, Mulder managed to fall

into the front passenger seat with a groan. "I think you were

right, Scully," he moaned. Janet raised an eyebrow, but didn't

ask.

They drove for what seemed hours into the Virginia countryside.

The sun was beginning to come up behind them when Janet turned into

a country lane and followed it up a slight rise for a quarter of a

mile.

There was enough light now to see the well-maintained two-story

farmhouse with a wrap-around porch as they turned into a graveled

driveway. They realized how exhausted they were by the time Janet

parked next to the building and shut down the engine. Everything

was quiet and peaceful. For a moment they all just sat there,

blearily looking at the early morning sunlight washing across the

walls and down the gentle hillside.

(Continued in Part IV)

(Same disclaimer as Part I)

GET MULDER

by Gerry Hill (GHill52695@aol.com)

They all began moving at once, opening doors and gratefully getting

out of the car to stretch stiff muscles. Except for Mulder. He

managed to get the door open, but from the sweat forming on his

upper lip and his sudden inactivity Scully realized that he was

having trouble.

She leaned into his open door and asked, "Can I help, Mulder?"

He looked at the concern evident in her face, and wryly said, "I'm

not usually this helpless, Scully, even that time I got shot. I

think I'll be better once I can move around a little and work out

the kinks."

She helped him swivel his legs out so his feet rested on the

ground, then let him use her for leverage as she backed away,

pulling him with her. He stood, gasped, and grabbed onto the door.

After a few minutes, he seemed more stable, so she turned to see

what had happened to Janet. That's when her eyes saw the flash of

light off the metal of a moving car out on the main road, about

half a mile away. As she watched, it slowed and made the turn into

the country lane that led up to their "safe" house.

"Janet," she yelled, then grabbed Mulder's arm. "C'mon; let's get

into the house fast," she told him. "Car coming."

Janet had opened the door and was entering the house when she heard

Scully's call. She returned to the porch and took in the situation

immediately. She quickly ran to Mulder's other side, got under his

arm with hers around his waist, and helped them up the steps to the

house.

Once they had some cover, they watched the car make its way up the

drive.

"It's another Taurus," Janet observed. "Got to be a fed driving."

Mulder laughed, despite the tense situation.

And sure enough, when the car came to a stop next to theirs, Garcia

emerged from the vehicle. He had a large bandage on the side of

his head, but looked fairly mobile considering the wound, loss of

blood, no sleep, and a long drive. He had shed his bloody jacket,

but still wore the same shirt, which had blood spattered across the

front. Nathan's. They watched as Garcia removed it and tossed it

into the back seat, leaving him in his relatively clean undershirt.

Scully looked at Mulder, who slowly shook his head, then shrugged.

"He saved me once from Nathan; I doubt he's here to kill me now,

but who knows the good guys from the bad in this madhouse lately?"

Scully said, "I'm going to stay out of sight and cover you two for

a minute while you see what he's up to." She quickly went into the

next room.

Mulder had his weapon in his hand, as did Janet, when the knock

came at the door. She opened it and stood to the side as Garcia

nodded at her and entered the house. His expression when he looked

at Mulder was none too friendly as his gaze settled on the

"Property of Lola" sweatshirt.

"What are you doing in my clothes?" he demanded.

"More to the point, what are you doing *here*?" Mulder replied

tersely.

Garcia's eyes narrowed. "You're my assignment, in case you've

already forgotten, Agent Mulder. I'm supposed to be protecting

you. The assignment all agents dream about having. What happened

to your nose?"

Mulder sighed and re-holstered his gun. "Why don't we find a bite

to eat, then get some sleep?" he said.

Scully joined them and they all went to the kitchen to rummage,

finding lots of food stockpiled. Garcia and Janet volunteered to

make some pasta and open a jar of spaghetti sauce, while Mulder and

Scully took showers first. There was a full bathroom on each

floor, so Scully made the climb up the stairs and left Mulder to

the main level. Janet distributed clothing and towels first, then

continued her argument with Garcia about which sauce to open; with

mushrooms or without.

"But I hate mushrooms," she said for the third time.

Mulder smiled as he closed the bathroom door down the hall, unable

to hear their friendly argument any longer. He hung his towel over

the rack and got the hot water running in the shower. Peeling off

the jeans took some doing, since they were so tight and moving just

aggravated his bruise. Finally stripped, he stepped under the

spray and yelped. The water made the wounds on top of his

shoulder, his nose, and his scalp sting.

Scully finished her shower, feeling much better. She pulled on the

too-big sweat pants and shirt provided by the "management" and went

downstairs to see about Mulder. She wandered around until she

found him in a bedroom at the back of the house. He had apparently

gotten as far as pulling on his sweat pants, but never finished

dressing before sprawling across the bed and falling asleep.

He looked so young and peaceful lying there. Scully stopped her

hand from reaching out to touch the angry-looking bruise, which had

now added purple and yellow to its basic black color scheme. She

didn't want to disturb his needed slumber. She picked up a thin

blanket

from the top of the bureau and gently spread it over him.

He didn't even twitch.

Scully pulled the curtain over the window as she quietly left the

room, then made her way back to the kitchen. There she found

Garcia standing on a chair, peeling long sticky strands of pasta

from the wall. At Scully's raised eyebrows, he shrugged.

"She got peeved and threw it at me, just because I questioned

whether it was done or not."

Janet was imperturbedly draining the pasta and placing it into a

bowl. She snorted, "If it sticks to the wall, it's done.

Seriously, what does it take to boil water, throw in the spaghetti

noodles, pull them out, and eat? I don't need to hear about the

exact, precise "al dente" moment of truth." She smiled sweetly.

"Ready to eat?"

The food tasted really good, Scully thought, even though it was a

Mulder kind of thing to be eating for breakfast. They all agreed

to let him sleep as long as he could. Janet told them to get some

sleep themselves while she kept watch.

"I'm pretty wired yet, and won't sleep anyway. There are three

more bedrooms around this place, so go find a bed or two and

crash."

She went out onto the porch with a magazine and a glass of orange

juice, flopped down into a rocker, and put her feet up on the

railing. Garcia and Scully didn't need to be told twice; they were

both yawning from the cumulative effects of no sleep, continued

stress, and the comforting warmth of the meal they had just eaten.

Scully didn't like to be too far away from Mulder in case something

should happen, so she found another ground floor bedroom next to

his.

Garcia had wandered upstairs, looking around the place before

deciding on the bedroom at the front of the house. He could look

out the window and see for several miles. Anyone approaching from

the road would be visible long before reaching the farm. Not that

he planned to sit at the window and keep watch, however. He was

dead tired, but decided to take a shower before sleeping.

Scully was vaguely aware of the shower running upstairs, just as

she was drifting half-way between sleep and wakefulness. She was

also processing some other noise from the main room, but couldn't

quite grasp what it might be...oh, yeah. Footsteps on the hardwood

floor. Janet must be moving around...Scully's doze moved closer

toward the restful sleep she needed.

Garcia finished his shower and dressed in the predominant fashion

of the household - sweats. He pulled the covers back and sank

gratefully onto the bed face down, thinking that it wouldn't take

long to fall asleep, as tired as he was.

A weight suddenly landed square on his back, pushing him into the

softness of the bed. Before he could react, his hair was grabbed

and his head was pulled painfully up and back, exposing his throat

to the long gleaming knife which was moving in from his right. He

convulsed his body up and to the side away from the knife, but felt

the knife enter his neck low and to the side away from the carotid

artery. Although the artery was missed, blood spurted from the

wound, and he couldn't help but hysterically think about the crack

to Mulder on needing their own personal blood banks.

Scully was not so far gone yet that she didn't hear the thumping

sound upstairs. What the heck is going on? She struggled into

wakefulness and listened, holding her breath. Nothing.

She slipped out of bed and grabbed her gun from the nightstand,

then peeked in at Mulder. He hadn't moved, and his chest had a

steady rise and fall. She moved into the living room. A glance

out the front window revealed an empty rocker with a magazine on

the floor of the porch with an empty overturned juice glass next to

it.

Scully thought about this for a second. So far, nothing might be

wrong at all. Janet had just come in for something and knocked her

glass over accidentally. Garcia was done with his shower and was

doing some pushups to maintain those muscles of his. She knew

before she even tried rationalizing, however, that something *was*

wrong.

Intending to wake Mulder for backup, she started toward his room,

then froze when she heard a raspy "No!" shouted from somewhere

above her. Instinctively, she raced up the stairs to help Garcia,

since she had recognized his panicked voice.

Gripping her weapon in both hands, Scully checked out the first

bedroom she came to, but found nothing. Thinking that this was the

part of her job that she hated the most, she cautiously peered

around the doorway into the other bedroom. She immediately spotted

the blood which was splashed all over the bed sheets, and her

breathing rate increased in tempo.

When she glanced downward she was not surprised to see the bare

foot protruding from the far side of the bed on the floor. Before

she could investigate, the sound of rapid footsteps on the stairs

reached her ears.

Scully whirled around and ran for the stairs, shouting, "Mulder!

Look out!" Concern for his safety was all-consuming, and she

fairly flew down the stairs.

Mulder had rolled onto his side and the pain of his bruise brought

him gasping out of a dream. The dream lingered in cloud-like fog

half-way between consciousness and sleep, however, wherein Scully

was demonstrating how to push the accelerator and brake pedals of

the car while he was driving. He was having trouble steering with

her body in the way...

When Mulder heard Scully's shout, he thought it was part of the

dream for a second, then he snapped fully awake as Janet burst into

his room. She had a tear- and blood-streaked face, but the most

important fact to Mulder was that she was holding her gun aimed

right at his chest.

She whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

They both heard Scully hit the living room floor at a run and Janet

backed up against the wall, still holding the gun on Mulder.

Chest heaving and gun extended, Scully never slowed down, but

barrelled through the doorway. Mulder had his arm extended toward

her with his hand up as if to stop the inevitable. His hoarse cry

of warning held a tinge of resignation, as if he knew what was to

happen was not within his control to change.

"Scully! No!"

Scully half turned toward Janet's position against the wall and

thus caught the bullet that had been speeding for her chest in her

left arm instead. The impact threw her into the edge of the bed,

and she fell onto the floor in what seemed like slow motion to

Mulder.

He had not been idle, but had grabbed his Glock from the bedside

table and triggered two quick shots in Janet's direction. One hit

the wall, and the other hit Janet, but he was not sure where. He

was too concerned for Scully to care about anything but stopping

Janet any way possible so he could see how badly Scully had been

hit. He rolled over the edge of the bed to land beside her on the

floor.

"Hey, Scully!" He gently cradled her head in his lap, carefully

pulled the bulky sweatshirt off one shoulder, and looked at the

wound in her arm. The bullet had entered the fleshy part of her

upper arm and exited again without hitting the bone. There wasn't

even that much blood, but it was going to hurt like hell once the

shock wore off.

His hand touched her cheek as he said, "You'll be all right,

Scully. I'm going to get you up onto the bed, call an ambulance,

then see about Janet." Suddenly he remembered..."Where's Garcia?"

Scully said in an unsteady voice, "Up...upstairs. Either wounded

or dead."

Mulder stood, then bent down to gather Scully into his arms, but

had to sit back down when his bruise hurt so badly he wanted to

scream.

She said, "Don't we make a pair. We should hold wheelchair races

after this is all over."

She managed to make it to her feet on her own, holding on to the

bed and pushing against Mulder's unwounded shoulder. She lay down

with a sigh.

Mulder simply crawled over to Janet, and found her to be

unconscious, with a bullet wound in her chest. It looked bad, and

he doubted she would make it. Shit. Of all the people he had to

shoot today, it would be Skinner's cousin.

Janet's eyelids fluttered and opened. She knew it was bad, and

grabbed Mulder's wrist to get his attention. On his hands and

knees, he had just planted a foot onto the floor under himself,

ready to try and stand up, and was startled when he felt the hand

close around his wrist. His gaze met Janet's scared-looking brown

eyes, and she whispered, "They got to me after the thing with

Nathan." She paused and licked her lips. "I've always been a

straight cop, Mulder, please believe me." At his nod, she

continued, and he sat down to listen.

"They said that they were holding my sister; that they would kill

her if I didn't take care of you. They showed me my sister's hair

and...and...her finger - Mulder, they had cut all her hair off and

a finger, just to show me they had her and meant business!" Her

eyes showed the horror she felt and the grip on his wrist

tightened, fingernails digging into his skin. "They knew something

was going on when Nathan was killed. I was the officer in charge

of the crime scene, and that's why they chose me to help them

finish the job. I would know where you had been taken and could

get to you easiest." She stopped talking and closed her eyes.

Mulder gently pulled his hand free and reached up to check the

pulse in her throat. He found that the pulse was still there,

although slow and unsteady. He looked over at Scully and saw that

she had heard the conversation; she looked stunned.

But that wasn't all; Janet continued in a low voice, fighting

unconsciousness, "They'll be here...10:30...mop up."

Without opening her eyes, Janet said, "Please help my sister.

Please. I'm so sorry...please..."

And she was gone. Mulder stood and looked down at her with dark,

unreadable eyes, and he thought, "I'm so frigging *tired* of this

shit." He wanted to weep for Janet, for Scully, for himself.

Scully's quavering voice yanked him out of the abyss into which he

had been falling, saying, "Mulder. Maybe you should check on

Garcia and forget about calling the ambulance. We need to get out

fast. It's already 10:00...we would have to pass them on the road

even if we left right now."

He tossed a troubled glance her way and left to tackle the stairs.

He finally settled on a method that worked: Put one leg up and

step on the next step; drag your other leg up while hanging onto

the railing; then repeat. This process seemed to hurt his bruise

the least. He soon reached the top and searched for Garcia.

When he found him, he figured Garcia had bought it this time.

Hell, probably most of the blood wasn't even his, but came from

some blood donor when they pumped it into Garcia at the hospital

after his head injury last night.

Mulder painfully sat down next to Garcia on the floor and tried to

get a pulse. And was a bit surprised that there was one. The

wound was in his neck and shoulder, so he wadded up a pillowcase

from the bed and pressed it on the wound, then tore a strip from

the sheet to tie it in place.

"OK, here we go fellah." Mulder sat him up to lean against the

bed, then Mulder lowered his head and used it and his arms to

wrestle Garcia up and onto the edge. Sweating in earnest now,

Mulder stood Garcia up, then turned so he sagged onto Mulder's

back. Somehow he got Garcia's arms onto his shoulders, where he

could grab the wrists, bend over, and shuffle along with Garcia

precariously balanced on his back.

"Oh, boy," he thought. By some miracle they made it without

incident to the head of the stairs.

Carefully and painfully Mulder started down, biting his lower lip

to keep from crying out. "It won't kill you," he berated himself.

"Just shove the pain down. Deeper. He ain't heavy, he's my

broth....Aaagghh!"

His bare foot had hit a step on its edge, and went slipping out

into space. There was no way he could keep gravity from taking

over. They had half a flight to fall and Garcia wound up "surfing"

Mulder down the steps. They landed at the bottom, and Garcia

finally slid off Mulder to lie spread-eagled on his back.

Mulder groaned and tentatively moved his limbs. He could hear

Scully worriedly calling, "Mulder? What are you doing?"

When she came out of the bedroom holding her wounded arm tightly

against her side, he grinned up at her and noted, "You said to

hurry."

She gave him that particularly disgusted Scully look, and helped

him to sit up. Using her good arm, she poked around on him for a

minute before declaring, "You'll have some more spectacular

bruising, but nothing appears to be broken, thank God."

She stood and held her hand out to him. With her help and the

newel post, he managed to stand in a broken sort of way. A glance

at his watch gave him the energy to move toward Garcia. It was

already 10:13.

Between the two of them, Mulder and Scully somehow got Garcia out

to the car. Adrenalin can overcome pain for just so long, though,

and then the pain kicks in big time. Once Garcia was sprawled

across the back seat, Mulder barely made it to the front passenger

seat before he passed out.

Scully went back inside and gathered the guns, IDs, cel phones and

her purse, threw it all into the pillowcase she ripped from a

pillow, and retrieved the car keys from Janet's pocket.

A glance at the clock in the living room made her heart sink;

10.23. Her arm felt as if someone was shoving a hot poker up and

down inside it. For a moment she just wanted to lie down, curl in

on herself, and whimper. But she knew the two agents in the car

now depended entirely on her to get them out of here, so she bit

down on the pain and ran out to the car.

(Continued in Part V)

GET MULDER

by Gerry Hill (GHill52695@aol.com)

Part V

Scully hadn't seen any vehicles coming their direction when she

looked out over the approach to the house. She prayed that she

could make it to the main road before anyone showed up.

Driving with one hand, her thoughts were tumbling over each other:

Lucky this car is an automatic; got to call Sinner ASAP for help

but no time; Mulder's still out cold; how can he be unconscious

with all this bouncing around; should check on Garcia when I get

the chance; shit this arm hurts; thank God, there's the main road!

Scully didn't slow down, but took the turn practically on two

tires. Mulder slammed into the window and muttered, "Ow!" as he

was thrust into wakefulness.

Scully glanced into the back seat and didn't see Garcia. He must

have rolled onto the floor when she took the turn. No time to do

anything about it for a few minutes. She had to get away from the

vicinity of the farmhouse before stopping.

Mulder sat rubbing his cheek where he had smacked it on the window

and watched the scenery speeding by at an alarming rate.

"You OK Mulder?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the road.

"Don't know. Ask me again when the runway clears you for landing."

She smiled and pushed the pedal even harder to the floor, and

Mulder just closed his eyes.

"Mulder? Why don't you scoot down in the seat so if we pass them

they won't spot you?"

There were very few positions comfortable to him right now, and

that wasn't one of them. With bucket-type seats, lying on his side

wasn't an option either. Undecided, he groped for the lever to

push the seat back farther to give him more room to maneuver. He

jumped a foot when Scully yelled out "No!!"

Startled, he looked questioningly at her, and she said in a quieter

tone, "Garcia is on the floor back there, and you might squash him

if you push the seat back any farther."

Oh. Mulder did feel bad about old Garcia. He had saved Mulder's

life, and in return had been shot, stabbed, fallen down the stairs,

and bounced around on the floorboard of the car. The trouble was,

Garcia had hated Mulder all along, and he really didn't think that

the treatment Garcia had received lately would endear Mulder to

him.

A face suddenly appeared in the rear-view mirror, startling Scully,

and she jerked the wheel. Mulder grabbed at a hand grip to steady

himself, and turned his head, to find himself looking into Garcia's

face from a distance of two inches.

"Shit! Don't *do* that!" he exclaimed.

Garcia shakily said, "I hope you're going to tell me that we're

headed for a hospital." He was sitting on the edge of the back

seat, looking extremely pale. He was hunched forward, trying to

protect his wounded shoulder and neck from unnecessary movement.

"Uh, well, no, we're just trying to get out of the area before the

bad guys get here." Mulder went on to fill Garcia in on what had

been happening.

It didn't seem to impress Garcia very much, since the only comment

he had was to ask, "Where are my shoes? We are on the run here,

and I'm barefoot. Are you two this clueless all the time, or is it

just when I'm around?"

Mulder hadn't really noticed his own unshod condition with all the

commotion recently, but now gazed grimly down at his own naked

feet. A quick look to his left revealed that Scully was wearing

the low-heeled shoes from her earlier outfit.

Seeing where this was going, Scully protested, "It's automatic for

me to step into my shoes when I get out of bed in a strange place

and go wandering around."

Mulder's large expressive eyes stared accusingly at his partner,

making her feel guilty that she had not gathered up everyone's

*shoes*, for God's sake, when a hit squad was practically breathing

down their necks.

Deftly changing the subject, she told Garcia that he should lie

back down on the seat or at least get below the windows so no one

would see him.

Garcia obediently slid back low into the seat, muttering something

about "Can't *believe* they left my shoes...".

Ignoring him, Scully said, "Mulder, a sign we just passed read

'Tiffany - 6 miles' and I plan to stop there for gas and to check

everyone's injuries. You should probably call Skinner from a pay

phone, so they don't track a cel call. Skinner really needs to

know what's going on and maybe send us some help."

Mulder nodded, and things were quiet in the car for a few minutes,

until Scully suddenly pulled into a large parking lot of one of

those inexpensive variety stores where you could buy almost

anything.

Retrieving her purse, Scully said, "I'll be right back," and opened

her door. She glanced in at the two agents and saw their accusing

gazes, while Garcia muttered, "Yeah, she's got the *shoes*."

Scully slammed the door shut as hard as she could, thinking, "this

is ridiculous!"

When she returned in ten minutes, she threw a plastic bag at Mulder

and said, "There. I don't want to hear any more about it."

Mulder noticed that she was holding her wounded arm close, and that

she winced when she settled back into the car, but he knew better

than to say anything. She would only say she was "fine."

While she drove looking for a gas station, Mulder pulled her

purchases from the bag one by one.

"Shower shoes!?" Mulder held the offending rubber items up and

threw a pair back to Garcia, who just said, "Thongs!?" But that

was the *good* stuff, Mulder soon discovered.

The next item was a sweat shirt with "Macho Kitty," and a kitten

wearing a tiny "Rambo" kerchief on its head, tiny bandoliers criss-

crossing its chest, and a miniature machine gun stuck to its paws.

Mulder threw that, too, back at Garcia, but regretted his action

seconds later when he pulled out the second sweat shirt. This gem

portrayed another kitten; an extremely cute one, with a cute little

puddle of something lying next to it, and the caption left him

mentally gagging; "Love is never having to say you're sorry."

"Scully..." he began, then words failed him.

Scully's eyes dared him to say another word.

She spotted a gas station ahead on the right and drove up to the

pump on the far end so that she could get out fast if need be.

Mulder opened his door and contemplated moving his very sore body

enough to put on the shoes and sweat shirt and get out of the car.

Scully had anticipated the problem, and appeared by his side. She

picked up the shirt and put it over his head, placing each arm in

the holes and pulling it over his body. "Thanks," he managed.

"Don't thank me. I'm practicing for when I have kids."

She helped him swing his legs out of the car, biting her lip when

she had to use the wounded arm. She picked up his right foot and

slid it into a thong, then did the same with his left. When she

stood back up, she saw that his eyes were darkened and he joked, "I

could get used to this, Scully."

She gave him one of her amused/disgusted/superior looks, handed him

some change, and said, "The phone is over there, along with a men's

room."

She opened the back door and pinned Garcia with her eyes. He

whimpered.

Mulder somehow made it up and out of the car, then very painfully

made his way over to the telephone.

He punched in Skinner's number, sincerely wishing that he didn't

have to make this call. "Hi, Skinner? Hate to tell you, but I

just killed your cousin's kid. Come and rescue us." Yeah, right.

He heard Kimberley answer, and said, "Kimberley. Please get me AD

Skinner. This is Fox Mulder and it's an emergency." There were

only a few seconds' pause before Mulder was speaking to Skinner.

He must have been waiting for this call.

"Yes, sir. No, sir. We're on the run and need a little help.

Agent Scully has been wounded, as has Agent Garcia. We need a

doctor and hospital pretty badly." There was a pause, then Mulder

went through the whole story, concluding with their approximate

current location.

It was a lot for Skinner to digest, particularly Janet's actions

and death. To his credit, he was able to keep his shock and grief

in hand and concentrate upon getting his agents to safety.

He told Mulder that he had just gotten word of the successful

neutralization of the splinter group which had caused all this

trouble. It had not taken as long as they had originally thought.

He was afraid, however, that the hit squad wouldn't have been given

this news yet, and was still after them.

"They must know in general where you are, and it's just a matter of

time before they reach you. I'm going to send in a helicopter;

it's the only way we can quickly get you out of their reach."

"Where and when?" It sounded wonderful to Mulder. A helicopter to

lift them out of this mess. Get medical attention for Scully's arm

and Garcia's stab wounds. Find some normal clothes again.

After a minute, Skinner replied, "I was checking a map. Drive to

the east side of Tiffany and pull over into the rest stop. We

should be there in half an hour."

Mulder disconnected and visited the men's room. He took a long

look at himself in the mirror, and saw someone he wouldn't want to

meet anywhere, under any circumstances. Unshaven, hair wild, dark

smudges under his eyes, bruises, the crappy sweat shirt... He

threw some water on his face and felt a little better, until he

turned, pulled his sweat pants down over his rear and looked in the

mirror at it. Just as he suspected - his butt was alarmingly black

and blue, a match for his abdomen bruise.

Pulling his pants down further, he saw that the damage extended

down the backs of his legs, too. He winced and pulled the pants up

again. "I wish I hadn't seen that. Now it hurts more than it did,

knowing what it looks like," he thought.

When he reached the car, Scully was nowhere to be seen, and Garcia

was lying on the back seat, dressed in the sweat shirt, eyes

closed. Without opening his eyes, he said, "She's paying for gas,

and visiting the ladies' room."

Mulder opened his mouth to reply, when he saw a large black car

make a U-turn on the street in front of the gas station, and come

roaring towards them. Mulder spun around to get Scully, but she

was already hurrying his way. He dove into the car, ignoring the

pain shooting everywhere in his body, and grabbed his gun. He

hoped that Scully was wearing hers.

He had his answer when she suddenly had it in her hand, and she was

firing at the tires of the oncoming car. It swerved, but not

enough to miss the rear of their vehicle. With a resounding crash,

it hit the left rear and shoved the car into one of the gas pumps.

Mulder's door was smashed and wedged against the pump, sealing him

off from that exit. Scully had leaped clear of the smashup and was

still outside, keeping low behind anything that gave her cover.

She was firing into the other vehicle now, smashing safety glass.

Mulder turned and fired through the rear window at the other car's

occupants as they backed away under the onslaught of bullets.

Garcia was screaming, "Give me a weapon!"

As Scully ran to get back into the car, Mulder found Janet's gun in

the bag and tossed to Garcia, who immediately added his firepower

to the covering fire for Scully.

She fell into the front seat, slammed the door and started the

engine. As soon as it caught, she rammed the accelerator to the

floor, and the car bounced and scraped along the pumps until it

broke free with a metallic screech and a surge forward.

As they picked up speed rapidly, the other car came roaring toward

them.

Mulder yelled "Go east out of town on the main road. Skinner's

meeting us at the rest stop!" Scully nodded and concentrated on

keeping the car on the road as she pushed it to its limit.

The vehicle following them stuck close to their bumper, but the

occupants didn't try to ram them or even shoot at them for some

reason.

"There!" Mulder pointed ahead to a sign that proclaimed, "Rest Stop

- 1 mile." He looked at his watch, thinking that the air-borne

cavalry wasn't due for at least ten or fifteen minutes yet.

Scully said, "I think I know why they're holding back a little."

Mulder looked rearward but couldn't see out the shattered rear

window.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"We've picked up the local cops."

She could see the flashing lights behind their pursuers through the

side-view mirror.

"OK, hang on," she yelled. "I'm not signalling or slowing much!"

She steeled herself against the pain from her injured arm, grabbed

the wheel tightly in both hands, and hauled the car onto the

curving exit ramp. She could tell right away that she would not be

able keep control of the car at the speed they were going.

She felt the car sliding and tipping toward the curb on the left.

It took a split second for her to see that, although the ramp

curved right, it then curved back to the left, and the parking area

of the rest stop was separated from their current position by a

swath of lawn and scattered trees...

She scared the hell out of Mulder when she abruptly turned the

wheel, bounced over the curb, and sped cross-country. He saw that

they were on grass, and then several trees whizzed past at high

speed. They approached a drop-off to the parking lot, and all they

could do was hope it wasn't going to be too far down to the

pavement.

Suddenly they were sailing into space, then hit the ground hard.

They blew a tire and Mulder's head briefly met the ceiling. Scully

drew a deep breath and looked behind her at Garcia. He was hanging

on to a hand-grip at the top of the door, and seemed paler than he

had earlier, if that was possible. She noticed that his hand

holding the gun shook slightly.

Mulder said, "Let's get out of here. The maintenance shed over

there is concrete block and would be better protection. Skinner

won't be here for a few minutes yet."

Scully had to help Mulder out through the driver's side, while

watching both approaches for the hit team. As Mulder, ready to

pass out from the pain, was finally getting to his feet, she heard

the sound of a siren and saw their pursuer speeding toward them,

being pursued themselves by the police car, which had now been

joined by a highway patrol unit.

"Run for the shed, Mulder!" she yelled, as she opened the back door

to get Garcia out.

Mulder tried to will his screaming body to move quicker, and had

almost made the shed when he tripped over the ridiculous rubber

shoes he was wearing.

Desperately glancing up from where she was supporting the nearly

helpless Garcia as he tried to vacate the back seat, the image of

the scene was imprinted on her brain, probably for all eternity.

The hit team had emerged from their car as it skidded to a stop

behind theirs. There were four of them, all with automatic

weapons, all aimed at Mulder. The cops had stopped also, and were

behind their open car doors, yelling that they put their weapons

down. Mulder was on the ground, with his gun aimed in the bad

guys' general direction. There was going to be a lot of blood shed

in seconds, and she doubted that Mulder, or even any of them, would

survive.

That was when the miracle happened. When they had all converged on

the rest stop, no one had noticed that it was not totally deserted.

A family had pulled over to relax in their RV for an hour or so,

and they had fallen asleep. Their little four year old girl was

the only one still awake to notice the new arrivals.

Emily had climbed down out of the RV and watched all the cars come

roaring into the far end of the parking lot. She began running

over to see what all the excitement was about.

So at the moment when Scully knew they were all going to die, Emily

casually walked up to Mulder and picked his sandal up from the

ground. She shyly held it out toward him, saying, "Shoe."

The death squad stared at the tiny blond child in a long, flowery

print dress, with blue tennis shoes and blue berets in her hair.

She was in the line of fire. They looked back at the cops, who

were ready to kill and/or arrest them. By unspoken agreement, they

piled back into the vehicle and gunned the motor, barely missing

Scully and Garcia as they passed their car.

Because so many people had been in their way, the police hadn't

tried to fire on the fleeing gunmen. The highway patrol car gave

chase, and left the local police to deal with everyone else.

Mulder had been horrified when the little girl stood between

himself and the men with the weapons. He had to do something to

keep her from being murdered when they began firing. Before he

could react, however, the men had backed down and driven away.

Tears stung his eyes as he laid his gun down onto the pavement and

gently took the proffered shoe from her tiny hands.

She giggled, turned, and ran back toward her folk's RV.

Scully yelled to the police that they were FBI and their ID was in

the car. She and Garcia lay on the ground with their arms

outstretched and waited for the police to satisfy themselves as to

their identity. The representatives of the law were pretty

skeptical for awhile, even with the FBI ID in hand, under the

circumstances.

One young cop kept eyeing Mulder's sweat shirt and fingering his

holster snap. But, at long last, their promised helicopter

arrived, unloading a very worried-appearing Skinner, another agent,

and two emergency medical techs.

By now, more local police were on the scene, and the senior officer

met Skinner halfway across the parking area. They had an intense

discussion, with Skinner exhibiting his ID, and then they waved the

EMTs on, so they could tend to the wounded.

By the time Skinner made it to the scene, Mulder, Garcia, and

Scully were being thoroughly checked out with the medical

equipment. Skinner just stood near the three agents, unable to

believe that he should claim this scruffy, ill-dressed trio as FBI

agents, and under his command. But he inwardly was grateful that

they had made it out alive. He was still trying to deal with

Janet's death, but at least these guys had made it through.

Mulder had a thermometer in his mouth and was trying to get his

boss' attention. Skinner moved closer to the agitated agent, and

said, "Yes, Agent Mulder?"

He took the thermometer out to speak, irritating the EMT, who tried

to put it back in.

"What about Detective Farley's sister? Have you turned up anything

on her yet?" He was silenced when the EMT won the struggle, but

his eyes pleaded with the AD for some positive news.

Skinner replied, "We were able to reach her in time, once we were

aware of her abduction. She's just arrived at the hospital, and

will probably recover. At least physically."

Mulder could see the emotion hidden behind the official front

Skinner was maintaining. More people than just Janet's sister

would need psychological healing after this was over.

The EMTs moved Garcia first on a gurney, one holding an IV bag

above his head as they headed for the helicopter. Mulder called to

his partner, "Hey, Scully. How ya doin'?" He grinned at the

anticipated reply, "I'm fine, Mulder." Now, how did he know she

would say that?

EPILOGUE

Scully and Mulder entered the hospital room with Mulder bearing a

big gift-wrapped box. Scully wore her suit jacket loose over the

arm in a sling, and Mulder walked very gingerly. They grinned at

the slumbering agent in the bed.

"Aw, isn't he cute when he sleeps?" Mulder crooned.

Garcia's eyes snapped open and looked at his visitors with some

alarm.

"That's got to be a bomb," he said, referring to the box. "Nothing

less would fit your modus operandi."

Scully took his hand in hers and said, "How are you feeling?"

Keeping a wary eye on Mulder, he said, "Healing. They'll let me

out tomorrow."

Mulder dropped the box onto the bed and said, "Great! Glad to hear

it. This is for you." He clearly wanted Garcia to open the box

and see what they had brought.

Scully said, "Here, I'll move the bed so you can sit up. Mulder,

why don't you take the ribbon off and Garcia can do the rest." She

pushed the appropriate buttons and the bed re-positioned itself,

while Mulder obediently took the ribbon off the box and moved it

closer to Garcia's hand.

Garcia tentatively pushed the lid up and removed it, then reached

into the box.

The first thing he encountered was a key chain with tiny rubber

shower shoes dangling from the ring. He shuddered, then gave a

weak smile. Interested now, he dug down and came up with a clean,

freshly-laundered "Property of Lola" sweat shirt. His smile got

bigger at seeing his old familiar favorite piece of clothing.

The next item was a t-shirt, imprinted with "I got a 'Spooky'

assignment" on the front, and on the reverse side, "...and I

survived to tell the tale." He had to chuckle at that.

The last item was an envelope, and he tore it open. Inside was a

picture of the little girl who had come to their rescue that night

at the rest stop. On the reverse side one of her parents had

written, "To our favorite G-men/woman; Hope everyone is doing fine.

Emily says hi."

Scully said, "Three of those pictures arrived at the Bureau. It

was nice of them to remember us that way, after what must have been

a terrifying experience."

Garcia carefully placed the picture of the smiling child into the

envelope and put it with all the other items back into the box,

with Scully giving him a hand.

He finally looked up at them and said, "Thank you." He directed

his gaze to Mulder and added, "I was wrong about you. I apologize;

you may be weird, but you're a good agent."

Mulder wasn't sure how to take that, but decided any compliment was

welcome, especially from this guy.

"We have to get out of here; Skinner wanted a meeting this morning,

but we needed to see how you were doing. And to tell you that you

have been temporarily reassigned to help out with the X Files since

you worked so well with us on this." Mulder smiled innocently.

Garcia paled, and Scully hastened to reassure him. "Mulder was

only joking."

Garcia managed to grab a cup of water from his tray near the bed

and threaten Mulder with it. He rasped, "Out. Now."

Mulder just grinned and said, "See you later. That's a threat, not

a promise."

He saw Scully jab Mulder in the ribs as they left the room, and a

loud "Aaagh!" from Mulder. The last thing he heard was, "Oh,

Mulder, I'm sorry. I forgot your bruises."

Garcia sighed in relief, wondering how those two had survived this

long.

THE

END