Date: Thu, 3 Jul 1997
Subject: "Save Me" by Gerry Hill

Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and situations created by
Chris Carter, the Fox Network and Ten Thirteen Productions. As such, 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 members only. Any
further distribution of this work without the author's consent is in
violation of international copyright laws.

Classification: T, A, Definitely MSR

Rating: PG

Note: I blatantly stole a scene from James Cameron's 1989 movie, "The Abyss."
Those of you who have seen the movie will recognize it.

Spoilers: Scully's condition as revealed in "Leonard Betts" and "Memento
Mori." A reference to a plot development in "Herrenvolk."

Summary: When Mulder and Scully are forced to make a choice, it may have
deadly
consequences for one of them.

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

Tuesday 10:30 AM
On the Beltway

Keeping an eye on the slowly-moving traffic, Special Agent Fox Mulder
wondered how the hell he was going to convince his partner to sit this one
out. He had a lead that would take him to northern Montana, near the
Canadian border. An environmental activist, one of the Lone Gunman contacts,
had apparently stumbled across another of those bee-and-ginseng plant farms.
Activity was in full swing there, according to this contact's report, and
she thought she had escaped the area without being detected.

Mulder was anxious to get up there and normally would have caught the next
flight out. He still planned to leave from National that afternoon, however,
and had already arranged for a connecting charter plane out of Great Falls.
He was showing uncharacteristic restraint in visiting Scully to discuss this
first with her. Sure, he would go no matter what, but he needed to let her
know what was going on. He had felt closer to her these past months, and
couldn't understand why they often managed to push each other away despite
the growing mutual attraction.

Despite appearances to the contrary, Mulder wasn't completely insensitive.
He was fully aware of the pain and frustration he had caused in the past by
impulsively following up on the often futile scraps of information that came
his way. She called it "ditching" her. And she was right. But how could
Scully think that he would deliberately put her in harm's way when it was
avoidable? It may serve to enrage her feminist sensibilities, and he would
try to assuage that anger, but he would continue to try and protect her
anyway.

Evidently her cancer wasn't worsening these days - at least, that's what she
insisted when he would ask about it. He realized that she was in denial and
found it very difficult to discuss the matter. Intellectually he understood,
but emotionally...God, he wished she would totally open up to him. That
guarded look he was beginning to know so well would steal over her face and
he knew that nothing he could do or say would penetrate it.

Well, Scully, he thought; I feel the same. I find it nearly impossible to
think or talk about it, wanting to scream and cry and tear out my hair when
I'm reminded of your impending fate. I don't even know that I can go on if
you were to die. I have to follow up every lead, hoping to uncover the
genesis of your cancer and, perhaps, a cure. Skinner and the Lone Gunmen are
working on conventional possibilities; I'm covering everything else,
including alien science. If there's an answer out there, no matter how
strange, improbable or weird, we'll find it. I promise.

He was approaching the exit when his cellular phone trilled from the depths
of his pocket. Engaging the phone, he answered, "Mulder," wondering who was
looking for him now.

A chilling male voice said, "Say goodby to your little partner, Agent
Mulder." A unidentifiable sound was barely distinguishable in the
background.

Fear grabbed his throat and he couldn't speak for a second. Then he managed,
"Who is this?"

"This is John Culverson and I'm murdering your partner as we speak. By the
time you reach her place, she'll be dead. Is that clear enough?"

"You even harm a fingernail, you're dead," he growled, pushing the gas pedal
to the floor and concentrating on covering the last couple of miles to her
apartment as fast as possible without getting into an accident.

He was about to disconnect and dial 911 when he heard Culverson speaking
again.

"Calling the cops isn't going to help, Agent Mulder. She'll be dead no
matter what you do from this point on. And I'll be long gone no matter how
you play this."

Mulder hit the "End" button and dialed 911 anyway. As he gave them the
information, he could see Scully's apartment building just a block down the
street. He found an empty parking spot and pulled into it, leaving the car
half in and half out of its space. He barely slammed the car door shut as he
ran for the front steps.

Approaching her door, he had his gun out, holding it with two hands. With no
backup, this would have to be fast and dirty. Fighting to keep from freaking
out over his fear for his partner, he was able somehow to keep his
professional cool, at least on the surface. Hoping her security locks
wouldn't break his foot, he let adrenalin take over and kicked the door as
hard as he could, next to the jamb. He felt something give, then rapidly
backed up, ran at the door, and hit it with his shoulder.

That did it. He was in, crouching and moving fast, looking everywhere at
once for signs of an intruder. Nothing in the living room or kitchen.
Nothing in the bedroom. He could hear the shower running, and cautiously
approached the door. It wasn't closed all the way, and he gently pushed it
open with his left hand, keeping the gun trained on the room as it was
revealed. No one was visible, but there was a shadow behind the shower
curtain.

He took several rapid breaths, terrified of what he might find in the
enclosure. He gripped the edge of the curtain, whispered a prayer for mercy,
and yanked it back to the wall. Part of the curtain ripped from the rungs
with the force of his violent motion and it sagged into the tub.

Mulder's eyes grew very wide with shock when he saw his partner standing in
the spray of water, rinsing shampoo out of her hair. As is typical of almost
all people who take a shower, she was completely naked.

With the sound of the curtain being yanked open, and with the blast of cold
air, Scully opened her eyes in confusion and alarm, trying to brush the water
out of them to see more clearly. Registering finally that it was a fully
clothed and armed Mulder standing in her bathroom, she was still confused,
but much less frightened.

Still staring, Mulder blushed a bright pink. He stammered, "S..s..sorry. I,
uh, ..." He was transfixed with the sight, and the words "how beautiful -
how perfect" kept running through his mind.

Although her instincts were to crouch down in the tub to try and cover
herself, Scully stood her ground, refusing to panic, and calmly asked, "What
can I do for you, Mulder?"

Still blushing, he turned around so that he was facing away from her and
said, "Someone called and said they were murdering you. I got here as
quickly as possible, and thought that I was too late. God, I'm sorry about
this. But I couldn't take the chance that it wasn't true."

Scully had finished rinsing the shampoo from her hair, used some conditioner
and rinsed that out, and turned the water off. She grabbed her fluffy
peach-colored bath towel, and felt a little better wrapped in its warmth.
Smiling, she finally said, "Likely story, Mulder."

His shoulders lifted and dropped in an abashed shrug. "I'd better check
around some more. The cops should be here any second."

He walked through the door, and then Scully was startled to see him fly
backwards and land on the floor of the bathroom. His head cracked against
the bathtub and she could see that he was unconscious.

Looking up, her eyes met those of a man who was about Mulder's age. He was
approximately the same height but more muscular, and had brown hair and eyes.

"There are police coming up the walkway. As soon as they reach your door,
get over there and tell them that nothing is wrong," he was saying. "Tell
them I'm your partner and when you didn't answer the phone or the door, I got
upset and kicked it in. It was a false alarm." He picked up Mulder's gun
and tossed it into the laundry hamper. Checking Mulder's coat pockets,
Culverson came up with the agent's cellular and dropped it into his own
pocket.

Scully tightly held the towel around her body as she carefully stepped over
Mulder's legs and walked across the apartment to the broken front door. She
noticed that Culverson concealed his weapon behind the open front of his
jacket. When she pulled the door open she was confronted by a female and a
male police officer, and their weapons were drawn.

She spent a few minutes explaining the situation, got her FBI ID at one
point, and introduced her "partner" to them. They finally seemed satisfied
and left, with the woman telling Scully, "You had better get some clothes
on...you must be freezing."

"I need to see if Mulder is all right," was the first thing she said after
pushing the door shut. She started moving toward the bathroom, but the
intruder grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the bedroom instead.

"Get dressed. You can check on him in a minute."

He followed her into the room and Scully realized that he wasn't going to
politely turn away. So she tried to ignore him as she slipped into her
panties and jeans, then a plain bra and tee shirt. The tennis shoes might
come in handy if she had to do some running. She brushed her hair, knowing
that it was going to look ragged without more attention than that.

When he suddenly spoke, she jumped slightly, not having realized she was so
on edge.

"My name is John Culverson. I'll explain what's going on after I get you and
your partner out of here and safely stashed away. Come on."

Culverson had glanced toward the bathroom several times while waiting for
Scully to get dressed, apparently checking on Mulder's state of
consciousness. When Scully reached her partner, she saw that he hadn't moved
at all. She looked at his pupils and checked for injuries.

"He's probably concussed," she worriedly said to Culverson.

"Then we'll drag him out to the car. One way or the other, he's coming with
us."

She got a washcloth from the towel rack, ran cold water on it, and wiped the
trickle of blood from Mulder's temple. The cold contact must have touched
some awareness and pulled him back from oblivion. His eyes opened and
blinked at the bright bathroom light. Scully could see that he didn't
remember what had occurred yet.

"Mulder, we have to go. Can you stand up?"

His nod was a bit tentative, and when he finally got to his feet he wobbled
uneasily. Scully put his right arm over her shoulder and helped to steady
him as they walked out to Culverson's van. It turned out to be the kind that
had a door at the back, and the inside was completely enclosed, without a
window anywhere.

Scully stepped up into the van so she could lend Mulder a hand. He was still
shaky and a little out of it. Culverson barely missed slamming the door on
her partner's fingers, impatient with his slow progress.

With nothing but the metal floor to sit on, the ride was not kind to their
rear ends or skeletal systems. Scully could see that the bone jarring they
were enduring was agony to Mulder's injured head.

When the van stopped moving, probably at a red light, Scully said, "Mulder.
Who is this guy? Do you know him?"

She could practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he flipped
through the thousands of faces he had encountered over the years, but finally
he replied, "No." Then slyly looking at her from the corner of his eyes, he
added, "I thought he was a particularly jealous boyfriend of yours."

"Very funny."

He didn't have time to harass her any more, as the van lurched into motion
again, requiring that they concentrate on keeping from being slammed against
the sides of the vehicle.

At last they felt the van slow down, turn, and come to a halt. The engine
was shut down and they heard and felt the driver's door slam.

When Scully saw the door handle turning, she was in position and ready. She
rammed herself against the door and absorbed the impact when it connected
with something solid. She followed through by shoving herself against the
partially open door and falling out onto the ground.

As she rolled away from the van, her hopes were high that she could get them
out of this fix, but those hopes quickly died a violent death. A heavy boot
thudded into her side as Culverson growled, "I'm putting a bullet into your
kneecap if you give me one more reason to hobble you."

She fought to regain her breath, wondering if he had cracked one of her ribs.
There was a shooting pain in her side that grew worse as she got to her
feet. Mulder was upright, but leaning against the van for support, looking
worriedly at her. Culverson, impatient to get inside, motioned with his gun
to move.

As they made their way haltingly toward the four-story deserted-looking
building, Scully quickly took in as much of her surroundings as she could.
They were walking on a paved area that look like a parking lot, and it was
surrounded by a tall wood fence. There was a gate on the street side with a
large padlock, which Culverson took a moment to re-secure before they entered
the building.

After passing through a dark entryway, the room opened up before them. It
took up two stories and the entire width and length of the building. There
were dozens of huge glass tanks with some kind of clear liquid in them, but
they appeared to be empty otherwise. One side of the room held laboratory
equipment, cabinets, sinks, counters, and scientific machinery.

Scully barely caught the word Mulder whispered. "Cloning." He seemed to
recognize the setup in the room.

Their captor motioned for them to sit down on some chairs against the wall,
and perched on the edge of another chair facing them. "Now, this is the part
where the villain reveals his dastardly intentions, although from my
viewpoint *I'm* the good guy." He paused and a sadness swept over his face.

His next words held a bitter edge to them. "My father, Benjamin Culverson,
worked for Bill Mulder on this hush-hush project." He gestured with his left
arm toward the depths of the room.

Scully glanced at Mulder, and could see the heightened interest this
statement had brought about.

"Ten years ago, your father killed mine and destroyed our family. Dad had
been given a choice to either perform some kind of testing, or to allow his
own son to be absorbed into this godawful project as a lab rat. He couldn't
live with either choice. He made an audio tape so there would be a record of
this insanity. On the tape, he said that he was going to wreck the project
and destroy every test report he could find, then commit suicide.

"All that our family knew at the time was that he disappeared without a
trace, leaving no word, and ten years later I found this tape." He took a
cassette tape out of his pocket and held it up for us to see. There were
tears in his eyes.

"Your father," he spat at Mulder, "Your father made him work at things he
abhorred, then either killed him or caused him to take his own life. Since
your father is dead now, you're going to be made to pay for his sins."

"I have been paying for them for years," was the quiet reply. Scully saw
that Mulder had grown quite pale and had a death grip on the arms of the
chair.

Ignoring Mulder's comment, Culverson continued, "I've devised a test of my
own. You probably won't survive it, and that's too bad, but it will be
interesting to see what choice you both make. You're going to be placed
together in one of these tanks. I'll fill it completely to its glass top
with water. There is a tube running from the rim with a mouthpiece at the
end. It will administer oxygen until the supply runs out. There is only
enough to sustain one of you for the amount of time you must remain
underwater. The test is: Which one of you will volunteer to drown while the
other uses the remaining oxygen?"

Before the last of his words left his mouth, Mulder was diving out of his
chair, clearly with murderous intent. Culverson was expecting something like
this, and was prepared. He met the attack by viciously clubbing Mulder with
the gun and then landed a kick in his stomach as he toppled to the floor. He
had the gun leveled at Scully before she could reach him.

"Grab his arm and I'll take the other one. We're going to that empty tank
over there." He gestured to his right and Scully spotted the tank he meant.
It had a step ladder placed next to it.

Mulder wasn't unconscious; he was just hurting from the blow to the area
between his neck and shoulder, and the kick in the stomach wasn't feeling
really good, either. He shook off the supporting hands and was able to go
where ordered under his own steam.

While Culverson held his weapon against Scully's head, he ordered Mulder to
climb the ladder and drop down into the tank. Mulder couldn't see that he
had a choice, so he did as told. He saw that the glass cover to the tank had
been moved back far enough to allow room to get through.

As Scully climbed the ladder, Mulder was taking in his surroundings. The
floor of the tank held about an inch of murky liquid of some sort, and the
insides of the glass walls were a little slimy. Peering closer, he saw that
there was a trace of green substance clinging to the surfaces throughout the
tank.

He moved aside slightly when Scully dropped the seven feet from the opening.
He reached out in case she needed a hand, but she landed on her feet with no
problem. She winced when her battered ribs protested, however.

Culverson had also climbed the ladder, and leaned over the top to say, "While
I fill the tank, you two had better decide which one gets to die. Remember,
the oxygen will not sustain two of you for the length of time you'll be
underwater." Scully was frightened to see the bleak look Mulder gave to
their tormenter and probable executioner. She was terrified that he had
already given up.

But he whispered urgently, "Give me your knee, Scully." She dropped to one
knee without thought, leaving the other available to him as he stepped onto
it and leapt for Culverson and the opening. He was hoping the element of
surprise would give him the edge. And he almost succeeded.

The force of his leap carried him up high enough to get his elbows over the
edge, knocking Culverson back onto a teetering ladder. As brave as the
effort was, however, luck was not on the side of the angels. Culverson had
quickly regained his equilibrium, pushing Mulder's arms from their precarious
position on the frame of the tank. The defeated agent landed back at the
bottom, cursing his failure with some words Scully had never heard him use
before.

There was the sound of some kind of motor and water began pouring into the
enclosure from a connection high up near the top. The glass cover slowly
closed over their heads. At that moment they both knew that they would die
in this place.

The water had moved to the level of their ankles. Scully put her hand on
Mulder's arm and simply stated, "There's no need to debate this, Mulder. I'm
dying anyway, so it's pretty obvious what needs to happen here. And as for
giving CPR, you know how to do that as well as I do; it doesn't take a doctor
to perform the procedure."

Mulder, head hanging, wouldn't look at her for a moment. When he raised his
eyes to hers, she could read regret in their hazel depths. Regret and
something like deep affection.

"Scully, this water is coming in fast, and I agree there's no need or time to
debate what we have to do. My father is the bad guy here, and you are not
going to pay for what he did." His voice rose with emotion. "There's no
chance in hell I'm going to live on after allowing you to drown in one of
these f*****g clone tanks. Do you think so little of my character, Scully?!"

The water was creeping past their waists already, lending urgency to Scully's
final plea to him. "Mulder, just think for a minute. I - am - dying. The
tumor has grown since the last time I was checked. I can't have more than a
few months to live. It makes sense for you to go on and defeat these
monsters who put this cancer in my body. Who else will avenge my useless
death?"

Mulder closed his eyes in grief, then held her in his arms. The water was
practically up to her neck, so he lifted her to his level, the water's
buoyancy making that an easy task.

His mouth was next to her ear as he whispered, "Skinner hasn't told you, but
he may be able to cut a deal to get you healed. So I'm leaving you in his
hands if you can't resuscitate me. I think everything will work out and
you'll live to a ripe old age. Please, Scully, do it for me." Then he
pulled the mouthpiece from the side of the tank and placed it in her hand.

Water lapped against their mouths and noses now, but still they stared deep
into each other's eyes, neither one wanting the other to die like this.

Suddenly his arms released Scully and she dropped down into the water with
the breathing apparatus in her hand. He had backed away to the other side of
the tank, treading water and breathing what air was left in the space below
the glass cover.

Given no choice, she placed the mouthpiece between her lips and found the
lever that permitted air to flow out of it. The tube had enough play in it
to permit her to move toward Mulder, and she did, just as the last of the air
space under the glass disappeared.

He held some air in his lungs and floated down to face Scully. He held his
arms out to her and she gladly moved into his embrace. She wrapped her own
arms around his waist, placing her cheek against his chest, feeling the
strong beat of his heart. It wasn't long before the rhythm sped up, however,
and his body began fighting the effects of oxygen deprivation. She knew that
he was fighting against trying to breathe the water into air-starved lungs,
but finally the inevitable happened. His body convulsed with the first rush
of water he breathed, then she nearly lost her hold on him as his body
continued to convulse in his death throes.

She cried throughout the event, not daring to look at his face until it was
all over. He drifted down, completely limp, eyes unseeing, and she shook
with her grief.

And then Scully realized that the air had run out, leaving her nothing to
breathe.

(Concluded in Part 2)

(Disclaimers in Part I)

Summary: When Mulder and Scully are forced to make a choice, it may have
deadly
consequences for one of them.

Rated: PG

Classification: T, A Definitely MSR

SAVE ME (2/2)
by Gerry Hill
(GHill52695@aol.com)

Scully let the mouthpiece float away when she realized sadly that she would
be joining Mulder in a few minutes. Already the lack of air was building up
a pressure in her body and it wouldn't be long before she, too, would try to
breathe the unbreatheable.

Her head turned to the side when a movement caught her eye, and found she was
looking through the distortion of the water and the glass into the barrel of
a gun. Culverson was aiming at the tank. Her vision was dark around the
edges now, and she was confused as to why he would want to shoot them when
Mulder had drowned and she was following his example in just a few minutes.

Even through the insulation of the water she could hear the report from the
gun as he pulled the trigger, and the shattering glass was an explosion of
sound. The water instantly gushed outward, carrying both their bodies with
it. When Scully hit the floor she was vaguely aware that the broken glass
was cutting her, but all she could do was suck in great gulps of precious
air.

She could hear Culverson's voice through the haze saying, "I kept my bargain;
you chose who was to die, and now I'll leave you to deal with it." Footsteps
rapidly faded, and they were alone.

Mulder was lying on his side, unmoving, not two inches away. She turned to
him, her breath hot and gasping against his mouth, but felt no returned
exhalation. His eyes - Oh, God, his eyes were gazing through her at
eternity.

The next half hour was a living nightmare for Scully. She breathed for
Mulder, pressing her lips to his, desperately willing life back into his cold
body. She ripped his shirt open and pounded on his chest, trying to
encourage that great heart to begin beating once more. She cried and swore
at him, promised him anything if he would only come back to her. Without a
defibrillator Scully knew she would probably not succeed in reviving him
after a few minutes had passed, but she was beyond coherent thought now.
Over and over she repeated her life-saving motions until exhaustion brought
her to a stop. Through her tears she gently closed his eyes and lay down at
his side in defeat. Her heart was tearing itself to shreds with the
intensity of her anguish.

However, Mulder had not died; the "water" he had breathed was not water but
the substance used to sustain and develop the clones. And deep within his
brain, he was screaming Scully's name, not knowing how to come back to her.
He became aware that his partner had given up and was moving from his side.
In a panic he threw everything he had into reaching out to her.

Scully stood over his body, swaying with fatigue and bereavement. She looked
down once more to say goodby and thought she saw his lips move slightly. She
blinked, not knowing whether that had really happened.

Dropping to her knees once more, ignoring the pain caused by the slice of
another shard of glass, she stared at his lips, willing them to move, to
speak her name. A great sobbing intake of breath suddenly ripped through his
chest and throat, then his body was wracked by deep, uncontrollable coughing.
Rolling to his side, Mulder spit out the remnants of the liquid he had
inhaled.

Scully knew she had a stupid grin on her face, but didn't care. Mulder was
alive! She had no idea how this could be possible, but wasn't about to
question the miracle. She had to touch him, to assure herself that life did,
indeed, flow through this man again. His gentle gaze was on her as she
reached out and caressed his cheek.

That touch opened the floodgates; she couldn't get enough of the feel of his
now-responsive body. Lying partially across him she was able to keep most of
her weight from restricting his breathing. Nuzzling her face against his
neck, she kept murmuring her messages of joy and relief.

"Scully," he rasped. "As nice as this is, we need to get out of this broken
glass and get something dry to wear."

Scully smiled into his shoulder, knowing that he was right. They each had
several superficial cuts and one or two deeper ones which were still slightly
bleeding. More importantly, they were in a drafty warehouse, both were
dripping wet, and Mulder had newly been resurrected.

"You're right. Let's see if we can find our way out of here." She helped
him stand up, and he found that he was not feeling too badly, considering
everything he had just gone through.

"Hey, Scully. I didn't come dressed properly for the wet tee shirt contest."

She looked down at herself and realized that her tee shirt, old and worn
thin, was plastered to her skin and hid nothing from her partner's interested
gaze. Too tired to care, she replied, "For someone who was just dead,
Mulder, you're entirely too observant."

"I wasn't *that* dead," he protested.

As they exited the building and entered the courtyard, they were surprised to
see that the van was still parked where they had last left it. Mulder said,
"Check out the passenger side and I'll go around the back and move in on the
driver's door."

Scully surprised him by walking in full view toward the van, saying, "No need
to sneak up, Mulder. I think I know what happened here." Her voice sounded
weary and resigned.

When Mulder caught up with her at the window of the van, he saw Culverson
slumped behind the steering wheel with half his head blown away, the gun
lying on the seat near his hand. He had apparently decided to join his
father.

Scully opened the van door, reached across to the dead man's jacket, and
pulled Mulder's cellular phone from a pocket. She also palmed the audio tape
for later investigation. They retreated to the back of the van and sat on
the edge in the sun with the door open while Scully made a call to Skinner.
But as his secretary put her through to their boss, Scully realized that she
didn't know where she and Mulder were located.

"Here. Talk to Skinner," she ordered as she shoved the phone into a
surprised Mulder's grasp. "I need to look at street signs, see where we
are," she explained, and slipped around the corner of the van.

The phone in his hand was making noise, he noticed. "Hello? Agent Scully?"

Mulder decided he had better get it over with and answered Skinner.

Meanwhile, Scully had to deal with the gory task of finding the padlock key
on Culverson's body. Without coming into contact with too much blood, she
finally found it in his front jeans pocket.

Mulder was still answering Skinner's questions and explaining what had
happened when Scully returned with a location to give him.

"I'll call you right back," Skinner said and the connection ended suddenly.

Mulder blinked. He turned to Scully and said, "Remember when I said that we
should trust Skinner, at least to a point? Well, I think we might have
reached that point. I have a bad feeling about this."

The phone rang again a few minutes later and he let Scully catch it this
time. After the initial, "Yes, sir?" she was silent and listened
impassively. After at least two minutes had passed she said, "Yes, sir,"
again and disconnected.

"You're not going to like this, Mulder," she told him. "Some people will be
here shortly to 'contain' the situation. We're not to impede them in any
way. Also, some medical care will be provided here at the site for us. If
they feel we need a hospital, they'll take us there. Otherwise we'll be
taken to our apartments where we are to stay until told otherwise."

"I should have know this would happen if we called Skinner, dammit."

Scully's eyes were vulnerable when she asked, "This is because of his deal,
right?"

God, he had forgotten he had told her about the deal to get her cured of the
cancer. This was going to get ugly, he realized.

Mulder reached out and took her small hand in his.

"Skinner has been wanting to take on Cancerman for a long time now. He
won't allow himself to be led by the nose forever. I would put my money on
our ex-Marine boss any day; Cancerman is going to realize that he's taken on
more than he can handle. Right now, Skinner has to play along, but he won't
put up with it for much longer, believe me."

She tiredly nodded, closing her eyes for a minute. Mulder knew she was
dropping the subject for now, but it was far from resolved. Scully didn't
back away so easily.

Her eyes opened and she asked, "Why aren't you more upset with losing all
this evidence?"

Mulder could only give her a tired smile and then he said, "I'll piss and
moan tomorrow, Scully. I'm too tired right now and this weird sense of
serenity has me in its grip. I suppose it's related to the drowning
experience." His gaze drifted out past her, into his memories. She could
see in his eyes that not all of the memories were good.

To bring him back, she leaned across the few inches separating them and
pressed her lips to his mouth.

That definitely got his attention. As a matter of fact, he eagerly welcomed
her touch. His mouth grew more insistent, moving over her lips as though he
were going to devour her. The sound of vehicles approaching and moving into
the courtyard finally got their attention, however, and they reluctantly
broke the contact. Their eyes held each other's for a moment longer with a
universe of promises and desire passing between them. Apprehension dwelled
in that look, too, as they wondered how this change between them might
develop or even survive.

The uniformed men and women who had arrived completely ignored the two
bedraggled agents, swarming past them into the building and going about their
business. Several members of the team set about "sanitizing" the front
interior of the van. By the time Mulder and Scully were led to an ambulance,
the driver's area in the van looked as though it had never held a bleeding,
broken body.

Someone gave the agents each a set of olive green uniform pants, and a shirt.
There were socks and combat boots, and even a set of underwear included,
although Scully got boxers and an undershirt, the same as Mulder. She
climbed into the back of the van to change out of her wet clothes while
Mulder was led into the ambulance.

A young blond man in white introduced himself as Doctor Tyler, then checked
Mulder over. He took a few stitches here and there, peered into his eyes
and down his throat, listened to his heart and lungs, and prodded various
parts of his anatomy, finally saying, "You seem to be all right, but we need
to check you out more thoroughly. You've got quite a bump on your head. We
have a clinic nearby...."

Scully, dry and warm at last, had opened the ambulance door at that point and
heard the offer from "them" to be treated at an unknown "clinic."

Mulder saw the panic beginning in the way Scully held her body and the way
her eyes widened. He quickly said, "No, thank you. We were told that you
would check us over and then take us home. We would both like to go to Agent
Scully's apartment instead of splitting up."

The doctor began preparing a syringe for an injection, saying, "I at least
must give you these tetanus shots. Those cuts could have introduced heaven
knows what into your systems.."

Both agents vehemently refused any injections. The doctor tried to persuade
them to get the shots, appealing to Scully's knowledge as a doctor, but they
held firm.

Looking very disappointed, the young man reluctantly agreed. He stitched a
few of Scully's deeper cuts and then left the partners together in the rear
of the ambulance for the ride home.

Sitting next to Scully on the gurney, Mulder took her hand. "Do you think we
can trust this bunch to really take us home instead of taking this
opportunity to abduct us instead?

She squeezed his warm hand and smiled her beautiful Scully-smile, answering,
"Skinner said that they agreed to get us to our residences if we didn't need
a hospital. I think it'll be OK. But I drew the line at letting them inject
us with that unknown drug."

He pulled her into his arms, not knowing who was clinging to whom, but
feeling infinitely better for the comfort this closeness provided. He felt
that he could withstand anything if she were safe and by his side. Recently
Mulder had come to recognize what he felt for Scully was love and it seemed
at last that this was the time to bring it out into the open. It terrified
him to be so vulnerable, having had love shoved back down his throat
throughout his life. He kept expecting Scully to laugh at him, to ridicule
his feelings for her. If that happened, he knew his heart would finally
shatter. There was just so much abuse a person's soul could take, and
Mulder's share would have broken a lesser man long ago.

"Mulder," came the muffled voice from down near his chest.

"Hmmm?"

"I can't breathe."

He realized then how tightly he was holding her and he released the
disheveled agent with a "Sorry."

Pulling back a few inches, she looked thoughtfully into his face. "You know,
Mulder, I'm still not used to looking at you other than as a slightly
out-of-whack genius who can be a real pain in the ass at times."

The stricken look on his face caused a quick reassurance from Scully. "Oh,
no, I didn't mean that I don't love you. I do, more than life itself." He
raised his eyebrow and waited for the "but" part. There always was a "but"
after something nice.

"I just realized that who you are is why I love you, warts and all."

He twisted around to look toward his rear end, and said, "When did you see my
warts, Scully?"

She sighed. "I'll even put up with your bad jokes, Mulder. Don't you wish
you were perfect, like me?"

He gravely studied her as if he were seriously contemplating the answer to
her question. They both started chuckling at the same time. "What a pair
we'll make," he gasped. They sat in comfortable silence then, holding hands,
listening to the sounds of the tires on the road, exhausted from the day's
events.

They were aware of the ambulance slowing and stopping, then the back door was
opened by the doctor.

"We're at your apartment, Agent Scully. I'd like to plead with you once more
to let me give you the tetanus injection..."

"No," she said firmly, and Mulder nodded his agreement. They thanked him for
his help and slowly walked up to the front door.

The doctor returned to his seat and made a call on his cellular. "No, they
haven't had the shot. Yes, I realize....All right, I'll go right up."

Scully had unlocked the door and was opening it when Mulder suddenly grabbed
his abdomen in pain and doubled over.

"Scu...Scully. Hurts...Ah, God!."

She tried to help him into the apartment, but he was in such pain that he
couldn't move forward. Instead, he sank to the floor with an agonized groan.
She could see that something was horribly wrong with him. Oh, God, don't
take him now. Please...

Scully tried to examine him to see where the pain was located, but he
wouldn't straighten out enough. He bit down on a scream, causing his lower
lip to bleed, and rocked back and forth in agony. She was getting frantic,
not being able to help him and not knowing what was happening.

Then the doctor from the ambulance was suddenly there and quickly gave Mulder
an injection right through his shirt into his arm. At first she could only
stare at Doctor Tyler, then found her voice to say, "What did you give him?"

He said, "You wouldn't know what it was if I told you. He would have been
dead in another minute if I hadn't gotten this stuff into his system. He
ingested the solution used for the cloning process, which helped save his
life, but it eventually turns toxic on him since he isn't a clone. We knew
all this, and tried to give the injection earlier, however...." He looked
accusingly at her.

Mulder gave a sigh and slowly relaxed his limbs. Scully saw with relief that
his face was no longer reflecting the pain any more and was serene. He
appeared to be asleep.

"There was a sedative included in the drug I gave him so that he can get some
rest while the antidote is working. He'll be all right now."

Scully saw that Doctor Tyler had prepared another syringe and was about to
give her a shot, too. She jerked back from him and said "No!"

"But if you ingested any of that fluid, Agent Scully, it will kill you."

"I said no; I won't accept that injection. I'm certain that I didn't breathe
any of that stuff. My air had run out just seconds before being free of the
tank."

The doctor looked as though he would forcibly inject her for a moment, then
shrugged and handed the syringe to her instead. "Put it somewhere cool for
now. It won't degrade for at least an hour. If you *did* get any of that
liquid into your system, you'll begin to show signs of it quite soon. Then
give yourself the shot. Don't tell anyone that I left the drug with you - it
could mean my life." He put a plastic cover over the needle and Scully
dropped it into her pocket for the time being.

Doctor Tyler helped get Mulder inside the apartment and onto the bed, then
left with a concerned glance back at Scully as she closed the door.

Scully managed to get Mulder undressed down to the olive green shorts with no
help from the sleeping agent, who was completely dead weight. He's sleeping
so soundly, she thought, I could dance naked around the room and it wouldn't
faze him a bit. Well...knowing Mulder, it might.

After she finished with her comatose partner, Scully put the syringe into the
refrigerator, then changed into a long white cotton nightgown that was
comfortable but lower-cut at the chest than she remembered. Oh, well, he's
seen me wearing less, she thought tiredly. She crawled under the covers next
to Mulder and was asleep in under a minute.

The doorbell's insistent ringing finally penetrated her sleep several hours
later, and she practically fell out of bed and made her way to the door. She
saw in passing that Mulder hadn't moved and was still deeply out of it.

Scully grabbed a robe, looked through the peep-hole in the door, and let
Skinner into the
apartment. He surprised her when he put his hands on her shoulders and asked
with a concerned expression, "Are you all right, Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir. Agent Mulder had the worst of it, but its beginning to look like
he'll make it."

Skinner dropped his hands and sighed. "Thank God. I wasn't positive they
would leave you alone when they...cleaned out the warehouse."

"Yes, well, I need to speak with you about your part in certain matters which
directly affect me. And Mulder."

Skinner nodded slowly, understanding immediately what she meant.

"Where *is* Agent Mulder, by the way?" he asked, looking around as if he just
realized that his most irritating and trouble-making employee was missing.

"Sleeping off the effects of some drug that "they" gave him."

At the concern surfacing in Skinner's eyes, she quickly added, "It's supposed
to counteract the negative side of the liquid he inhaled in the tanks." She
gestured toward the hallway and he followed her to the bedroom doorway. They
stood there looking in on a Mulder they rarely got to see - asleep, his face
was almost angelic and filled with innocence.

Then the "angel's" eyelashes fluttered slightly, and Mulder's eyes slowly
opened. He gazed back at his audience and rasped, "Either this is a very
interesting erotic dream I'm having, or Scully is selling tickets to watch
'Spooky' do something he rarely manages to do - sleep."

Skinner snorted and said, "I'll speak with you at work day after tomorrow,
Agent Mulder,
assuming you're feeling better by then. You've been through a lot today and
need some recovery time."

Mulder sat up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. He held his
hand to his head for a moment, then said, "Sir, I had been planning on going
to Montana earlier today. There's some activity related to the bee project
reported, and I have to see what evidence and information I can turn up. I
need several days at least to run this down."

Scully raised her eyebrows, not having heard about this new development until
that very minute. Mulder caught her change in expression and knew he was in
for it now.

"Agent Mulder, I can't approve this trip."

At Skinner's words, Mulder's head jerked up in surprise.

"But, sir..."

"Officially, that is."

As he turned to leave, he added, "Get some rest, Agent Mulder, before
embarking on any new...activities." And he was gone.

With her hands on her hips, Scully stood before the seated Mulder and waited.

"I was on my way to your apartment to tell you, Scully," he began.

Her hand reached out so that her fingers rested on his lips.

"We'll talk about that and other things later. Right now I'm more interested
in seeing you get some rest."

His fingers wrapped around Scully's small wrist and pulled her forward until
she had no choice but to sit on his lap.

"Does getting my rest mean that I have to stay in bed? Because I hope that's
what you have in mind." He was nuzzling the soft, downy hair behind her ear
and Scully was quickly losing all ability to think coherently.

"Uh," she managed.

With his arms around her once more, his mouth searched for and found her
lips. He began exploring them quite thoroughly, and Scully enthusiastically
joined in the sweet investigation. This sort of activity often leads into
another, and so they soon found themselves lying together on the bed making
out like teenagers. Well, maybe like sore and weary teenagers, but still
lost in each other and the wonder of what they had found together. They were
embarking on the discovery that each was the other's salvation.

"By the way, you owe me a shower curtain, Mulder," came a muffled observation
at one point.

"Would you take this in exchange?"

"Mmmmmmmm."

"I'll even throw this is in, too."

"Ahhhhhh....you have a deal."

THE END