By Seda

Email: reseda@aol.com

Category: XA

Rating: PG

Archive: Permission granted. But let me know where, please.

Spoilers: All through Folie a Deux

Summary: Scully announces she's leaving the FBI for a position with a private research company, but first she and Mulder have a case in Seattle to investigate; a case with some elements that are all too familiar.

Feedback: to reseda@aol.com

Disclaimer: The characters that you recognize from the X Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox and their respective attorneys. I reserve all rights to the characters of my creation. Unless or until somebody pays me to use them in their story.

Terminus

May 11

5:45 AM

Alexandria, VA

     Kiss and ride. The name for the Metro's Park and Ride lots had always struck her as funny, though she'd never thought much about it before. Such a sentimental name for something so utilitarian, yet all along the Metro's hundred-odd miles of track, "Kiss and Ride" was emblazoned in reflective white paint on standard green municipal traffic signs, as commonplace as exit markers or street signs. She wondered sleepily if the message hovering over these parking areas was meant to be instructive or descriptive.

     Dana Scully studied the faces of the commuters who boarded the train at the King Street station, wondering if they'd been kissed before they rode this particular morning. She'd rarely taken the Metro to work in the five years she'd worked in downtown D.C., but this particular morning she'd needed to do something different. Just a minor shift in her routine, a way of breaking a pattern. One small change to give her confidence that the major change she was about to make would work out okay, despite her worries.

     As the train resumed its motion and settled once again into its steady, rocking motion, Scully gazed out the window. A red-orange dawn had crept up from the horizon, making the white marble tower of the George Mason memorial glow pink in the dim blue sky. She fingered the edges of her fare card-she had only purchased a one-way trip-as the train hurtled her toward D.C., and work, and her future.

     Today was going to be the hardest day of her life.

     Skinner left the message on Mulder's voice mail before he poured his first cup of coffee that morning, asking him to come to his office as soon as he arrived. His inbox was stacked with paperwork, a backlog borne of four days out of the office at a pointless Bureau conference in Boston. Four days of mind-numbing ennui, broken only by Agent Scully's page yesterday afternoon. He'd called her back on a break from a pay phone in the hotel lobby. When she'd told him the news, her voice quavering with an odd mix of dread and relief, he'd immediately looked around for the nearest chair. It wasn't the kind of news to be taken standing up.

     Mulder wasn't going to take it much better, which was why Scully had asked him to call the meeting. He'd understood implicitly why she'd wanted to do it this way: to keep it professional. Skinner had had enough field experience to know that things got personal between long-term partners; there was no helping it. The line could blur, did blur, when the working relationship got as tight as theirs. He was glad she was able to maintain that clear line, especially now. He could see that she needed that line. Mulder would need it, too.

     Mulder strode into the basement office, his gait still buoyant from a pre-dawn run, his adrenaline levels already pumped up for the day. He saw the flashing light on his phone and retrieved Skinner's voicemail, glancing at his watch as he listened. He noticed Scully's desk was particularly well ordered this morning. Either she'd stayed late or come in early, although he found it hard to believe she'd be here this early. He dropped the phone back onto its cradle and pulled the latest X file from his file drawer. As long as he was meeting Scully in Skinner's office, he figured he'd brief her on the case in Seattle.

     She guessed that Skinner must have made the coffee himself, at this hour. It was strong, and its bitterness lingered on her tongue. The Assistant Director's office was dimly lit, and only a few rays of early morning sun filtered through the drawn blinds. It was uncomfortably silent as they awaited Mulder's arrival. Neither one of them felt like sitting yet, so they hovered awkwardly between Skinner's desk and conference table.

     "How was Boston?" she asked, desperate to lighten the atmosphere.

     "I was impressed." Skinner's voice boomed in the silent room. "Few Bureau executive conferences have bored me as thoroughly as this one."

     Scully gasped at her boss' unexpected candor, and laughed heartily. It was refreshing to hear him joke.

     The corner of his mouth rose in a half-smile. "Then of course when I called you back, things took a definitive nose-dive."

     Scully placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, giving him a sad smile. Skinner returned the gesture awkwardly.

     "Agent Scully, you're-"

     The office door swung open and Mulder burst in, grinning and wisecracking something about the Hoover Building needing a neon "open all night" sign.

     Scully cleared her throat nervously and took a seat opposite Skinner's desk. Skinner took his cue.

     "Have a seat, Agent Mulder. Agent Scully has some news to share with us."

     "Mulder looked at both of them warily, and took his seat. "What's that?"

     He fixed his gaze on Scully. Her porcelain complexion was ghost-white. His stomach convulsed in expectation of a blow.

     Scully inhaled. "Mulder, I'm leaving the FBI as of June first. I've been offered an opportunity that I can't pass up."

     He needed to breathe, but he couldn't. The floor had disappeared form beneath his feet.

     "Two weeks ago ForenTech Incorporated called me. I'd served as a forensics consultant to them three years ago, under the auspices of the Bureau. Back when the X files were closed down."

     Mulder nodded dumbly, recognizing the company's name. A steady, droning buzz had begun in his ears, making it difficult to hear her voice.

     "They've had an opening recently, and they called and asked me to head their forensic technology research laboratory. I've accepted their offer. I start in three weeks."

     He had to clench his fists and curl his toes to restore feeling in his extremities. As she had continued speaking, he'd steadily grown numb, as if the molecules in his very cells were drifting apart, losing cohesion. He felt nothing except the heavy aching thud of his heart. It was several minutes before he realized she'd stopped speaking and was looking at him expectantly. He shifted his gaze to Skinner and dimly noted that the Assistant Director wasn't exactly shocked by Scully's news. He swallowed a lump in his throat that tasted like jealousy. She had told Skinner first. He rubbed his left index finger against his temple in a vain attempt to still his reeling mind. Scully's voice came back to him across a great distance. It was barely a whisper.

     "Mulder? Don't you have anything to say?"

     He tried to meet her eyes, but the emotion in them was too painful. He focused instead on her mouth and chin. "Yeah, I-I'm not sure I got everything after the 'Mulder, I'm leaving' part."

     Scully's eyes dropped to her lap.

     Skinner rose from behind his desk. He didn't belong here. "I'm going to give you two some time alone."

     Scully lifted her eyes as Skinner closed the door behind him. Mulder was tugging at his lower lip, his eyes cloudy and unfocused and unable to look at her.

     "Mulder, I know you weren't expecting this."

     He shook his head. "Scully, it's an incredible opportunity and you have to take it. You deserve better than this." He wasn't sure where the words were coming from, but it definitely wasn't his conscious mind, which was writhing with the pain of abandonment and self-pity. Grateful for the chivalry of his superego, he rose to leave, figuring he'd better make a quick getaway before his baser instincts could wake up and take over. Some nobler part of his brain forced him to look her in the eye this time. "Congratulations, Scully. I'm happy for you."

     Skinner's eyes questioned her as she passed him in the corridor en route to the elevator about fifteen minutes later.

     "Well, he's not taking it any worse than I expected. And I guess I should be flattered that he's not taking it any better."

     Skinner nodded. "He'll just have to come to terms. In the meantime, there'll be enough work to keep you busy. Did he tell you about the Seattle case?"

     She shook her head.

     "They've had a series of unexplained deaths over the last seven months. Common denominator seems to be some foreign agent in the blood of the victims. County Coroner saw the pattern and called the CDC."

      "Has Atlanta been out to investigate?"

     "Supposedly they're on their way, as soon as they can free up a field investigator. Everybody's backlogged down there. At any rate, they want the Bureau to rule out foul play."

     Scully nodded. She wasn't sure yet why this was an X file, but she knew Mulder would explain how this had landed in their lap on the flight out.

     She stepped into the elevator and hit the button labeled B. She knew the routine, so well established over the last five years. There'd be a note waiting on her desk with the flight information. Mulder would be long gone, running around the building digging up last minute research, or headed back to his apartment to throw suits into a garment bag. They'd maybe meet each other at the gate, or if reservations had been accommodating, in adjacent seats on the plane. They'd go over background material and plan their investigation in flight, so that by the time they landed all they had to do was make motel reservations from one of their cell phones as they disembarked, pick up their rental car and hit the ground running.

     It was a process they'd honed so sharply in their years of working together that it had become as routine as their morning commutes. She'd rarely paused to marvel at how well oiled the machinery of their working relationship was, until now. She was going to miss it.

The Sequoia Motel

2:41 PM

     Mulder threw his one piece of luggage on the queen-size bed and looked around the room. He felt dazed-a combination of jet lag and residual motion sickness from turbulence over the Rockies, and, during the final leg of their journey, the stunningly silent drive in from the airport with Scully.

     On the plane he'd had the window, she the aisle, and discussing the case on the way had been made impossible by the guy sitting between them. He was a sales exec from Baltimore who had decided that 40,000 feet was a great place to set up a virtual office. He'd elbowed Mulder in the ribs twice while unpacking his laptop, and then talked bullshit to clients for almost the entire duration of the three-hour flight. Mulder had vowed silently to himself that if the asshole's elbow crossed into his personal space one more time, he was going to pull his weapon on the guy.

     Mulder rubbed his eyes. He'd been on edge lately, and Scully's bombshell this morning had nudged him even closer to the precipice. He sat down hard on the bed. Who was he kidding? He was hanging from the cliff by his fingertips. She'd blindsided him. Scully the dependable had bailed on him. Completely without warning, but probably not without provocation. He'd had plenty of time on the plane to beat himself up over why she'd made the decision she had. Things had been tense between them lately; they'd both felt it. He just couldn't put his finger on why. And so whatever it was had become the horse on the dining room table; something ridiculous and massive and intrusive that they'd tacitly agreed to work around instead of through. It had gotten to the point where driving to the motel in an uncomfortable silence seemed more tolerable than discussing something as trivial as the weather, how, typical for Seattle, it looked like rain.

     A telephone's sudden ring startled him so much that he had to scan the room to locate the phone.

     "Mulder."

     "It's me. I just called the county Medical Examiner. She can see us at four. Do you want to go over the case before then?" She paused, but not long enough for him to reply. "I mean, I haven't even laid eyes on this X file yet, Mulder."

     The irritation in her voice was sharp. He heard his voice replying from somewhere else. "Yeah, sure. Let's get coffee or something."

     Mulder spread the contents of the file out on the table of their booth. The Daily Grind Coffee Shop was deserted except for the two agents and their waitress.

     "Six women, all presumably in excellent health, were found comatose within the last seven months. Cause of their condition a big question mark."

     Scully scrutinized the coroner's reports. "Cause of death is listed as either acute coronary or renal failure, not atypical for coma patients."

     "Right, but what no one understands is how they got into the coma," Mulder reiterated. "The medical examiner was more interested in figuring that out, actually. What threw up the yellow flag for Dr. Cousins was the blood tox screening." He pushed a copy of the comparative results across the table toward her.

      With a slight sigh, Scully perused the data. Her brow furrowed slightly as she put the pieces together. "An unidentifiable antigen and protein levels consistent with genetic abnormalities?" She looked up at him. "What kind of genetic abnormalities?"

      Mulder shrugged. "Quantico's working on that now." He grinned mischievously. "And so is the research la-BOR-atry of Byers, Langley and Frohike."

     Scully smirked indignantly. "You've got to be kidding, Mulder. Since when are the Three Stooges qualified geneticists?"

     "They're not." Mulder took a sip of the coffee that had just been delivered to their table and stared into the cup contemplatively. He could feel the weight of Scully's familiar disbelieving stare like a pressure against his forehead. "But it was those three stooges who identified the unknown antigen in your blood three years ago as branched DNA, and I'm betting that's what they find in the blood of these women."

     Scully's breath escaped in a disgusted huff and she dropped the file she'd been reading onto the table with exaggerated drama. "Well, you closed this case in record time, didn't you, Mulder? Just another series of alien-no, excuse me, make that government conspirator abductions." She slid out of the booth, snatching her raincoat behind her so swiftly that it blew half the papers off the table. "What I don't get is why I had to fly three thousand goddamned miles to have you wrap it up in five minutes."

     She was practically shouting at him, and her voice echoed in the empty cafe. Mulder reached for her arm to try and get her to sit again, but she wheeled around abruptly, managing to stay out of his grasp.

     "Just tell me, Mulder," she asked bitterly, her face bearing an uncharacteristic sneer. "What do you need me for, anyway?"

     He had risen to his feet and opened his mouth to speak, but he was too stunned by the ferocity of her anger for the words to come.

     "Why is it that before I get five minutes to look at a case with any kind of scientific objectivity, you've already put the patented Mulder spin on it? Why can't it ever be explained any way but your way?" She shook her head and laughed. "No wonder everyone at the Bureau looks at me the way they do. Here I am, hired to lend credibility to the X Files, and all I've managed to do over the last five years is become an accessory to your paranoid view of the universe."

     She turned her back on him in disgust and headed for the door, and he lunged to grab her arm. She stopped, but did not turn to face him.

     "Is that why you're quitting?" His voice sounded muffled, as if the words were still half-caught in his throat.

     She turned back to him slowly, suddenly aware of the restaurant's vacant silence. She stared into his face, amazed at how simple this was, despite how much she'd dreaded it. She had been afraid of emotion overwhelming her, but in this moment she felt numb to the core. It emboldened her.

     "I'm leaving because I need to know I can be a factor again." She studied his eyes as she spoke, watching for some hint that he understood her words. "In this partnership, Mulder, I've become nothing more than a cipher. It doesn't seem to matter how much or how little of myself I contribute to the work anymore, because the sum total is always Mulder."

     He slid his hand down her arm to hold her hand. He squeezed it tightly. "That's not true, Scully."

     She closed her eyes and twisted her hand from his grasp, and he realized that her need to free herself was more than physical. Her eyes opened again; still fierce beneath heavy lids that belied her weariness.

      "It's true for me, Mulder. It's my truth."

4:06 PM

Seattle Medical Examiner's Office

     Doctor Margrette Cousins was a stately woman in her forties with platinum blonde hair and a faint German accent. Her stride matched Mulder's as the two walked down the hallway between her office and the autopsy room.

     "I was looking forward to meeting Doctor Scully. Will she be coming by later?"

     Mulder scratched his ear nervously. For all he knew, Scully was on a flight back to D.C. by now. "She wasn't feeling well-it was a rough flight out. Hopefully she'll get over it."

      Dr. Cousins nodded. "I hope so, too. I must say, I was quite taken aback when she called me. I've read several monographs she's published in the Journal of Forensic Pathology and I was hoping to have an opportunity to discuss them with her."

     Mulder watched as the tall woman unlocked the door to the lab. He wasn't aware that Scully had published recently. It wasn't the kind of thing they discussed.

     The body she pulled out of the morgue cooler bore the same gray pallor and Y-incision necklace of Frankenstein stitches as every other post-autopsy corpse he'd ever laid eyes on. They all seemed anonymous and the same yet to the likes of Scully and Cousins every square inch of tissue, every ounce of blood yielded facts that could reveal mysteries. Or confound mysteries even further.

     "As I told Dr. Scully on the phone, nothing in the autopsy turned up anything unusual until I ran the blood tox."

     Mulder kept his hands folded tightly across his chest as he scanned the body. "Nothing at all? No signs of foul play?"

     Cousins looked at him like he hadn't been paying attention. "Agent Mulder, foul play is the last thing that killed these women. If anything, it was an environmental agent of some kind which triggered their coma and produced the abnormal post-mortem blood chemistry."

     Mulder noticed Cousins' gaze shift and looked over his shoulder to see Scully approaching them. He hadn't heard her enter the room.

     "Do you have any theories on how that agent might have been introduced into the subject?" Scully asked Cousins.

     "Plenty," the doctor replied. "It could have been anything-food, water, airborne particles. That's why I contacted the CDC, initially. None of these women had had blood transfusions, which disproved my first hypothesis."

     Scully nodded. "Doctor, would you mind if I re-autopsied the subject?"

     "Not at all," Cousins replied. "It would be my privilege to assist." She extended her hand across the body. It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Scully. Please, call me Margrette."

     Scully took a step forward. Mulder noticed she was careful to avoid looking at him or making contact as she extended her hand in return. She was smiling brightly at Cousins, as if she were a long lost friend. "Well, in that case, it's Dana."

     The two doctors retraced every step of Cousin's initial autopsy and pursued all of Scully's hypotheses as well, even running their own chemical tests after the lab had closed for the evening, but none of it yielded anything remarkable. Mulder had gone long ago, to wherever it was he need to go to gather evidence to support his theory. Nine PM had come and gone, and Scully was exhausted and hungry, but her determination to find something substantial with which to refute Mulder's theory kept her pushing on.

     She looked down at the lifeless body of Annie McLaughlin and silently promised her she wouldn't give up until she found an answer that gave some kind of rational meaning to her meaningless death.

     Scully turned to the door as she heard Margrette enter. She had left briefly to retrieve the full body X-rays they had done earlier in the evening.

     "Well, this probably won't tell us anything we don't know, but at least we can say we left no stone unturned." She turned on the viewer and snapped up each X ray, reciting them like a litany: "Anterior pelvic, anterior thoracic, anterior cervical, anterior cranial, posterior cranial, posterior cervical-"

     Scully's eyes fixated on the X-ray of Annie's neck, and closed her eyes to clear her vision. It was late, she was beyond exhausted, and her mind was playing tricks on her, flashing back to a similar X-ray three years ago. When she opened her eyes, her mind would be clear again. And the small circular white spot appearing on the back of the dead woman's neck wouldn't be there.

     Yet it was.

     Wordlessly, Scully went back to the autopsy table. She rolled McLaughlin's slight body over, only vaguely aware of Margrette's inquiring voice. With her left hand she palpated the soft tissue of her neck, grown dense with rigor mortis. Her right hand fumbled for a scalpel on the instrument tray.

     "Dana, what are you looking for?"

     She didn't answer, couldn't answer, until she had the answer between the tongs of her surgical tweezers and could hold it up to the light.

     "This," she replied.

     Scully's hand was shaking so hard that Dr. Cousins had to grab her wrist to steady her so she could get a better look at the implant.

11:29 PM

     Mulder was about to give up on getting any static-free station on the motel TV when he heard the knock on his door. He hit the power button and tossed the remote across the bed.

     He opened the door to Scully against a backdrop of rain and fog: lips pursed, arms folded, leaning against the doorframe.

     "I'm going to make you a very happy man, Mulder." She pushed past him and entered his room.

     At first he resisted the urge to make a wisecrack, but the distinct odor of whisky on her breath made him reconsider.

     "So how many shots of liquid courage did it take before you finally decided to give in to your lust for me, Scully?"

     She tried to shrug off her raincoat, but somehow got tangled up in the sleeve. Mulder gingerly tried to help her, wary that she might deliver a swift uppercut at any second.

     "I stopped by the Medical Examiner's office about an hour ago, but you and Dr. Cousins had left." He watched sheepishly as she finally discarded her raincoat.

     "It was Ladies Night at Jimmy's Pub, two for one specials, so we went out for a couple of drinks," she explained, grinning in a way that was uncharacteristically Scully. "But not until after we'd pulled this out of Annie McLaughlin's neck." She pulled a small glass vial out of her suit pocket and placed it ceremoniously on the table.

     "What is it?"

     "What is it?" she asked incredulously. "It's a fucking implant, Mulder. She probably never even knew she had it." Her words were beginning to slur. "Which is a good thing, because we both know she might have been dead a lot sooner had she removed it."

     Mulder peered at the tiny chip closely, then went to his bag to find a magnifying glass.

     Scully sat down hard in the chair, resting her chin in her hands. The surface of the table appeared to rock and she inhaled sharply to try and dispel the effects of her intoxication.

     "I bet if we'd checked we would have found her ovaries emptied out, as well."

     Mulder looked at her then, the pain in his eyes unmasked.

     Scully covered her eyes with her hands to hide from the sight of him. She couldn't believe she had said that out loud, couldn't believe how self-pitying it sounded. Then, she abruptly dropped her hands and stood.

     "You win, Mulder. I spent half the night trying to prove you wrong, but you win again."

     She was halfway to the door before he replied.

     When he finally did, his voice was loud and sharp, a knife cutting through the thick haze of her intoxication. "No, Scully, I lose." "Because I haven't been able to make you care about unspeakable things that happened to you, about how you almost died, how your daughter did die because of men we have no evidence to prosecute." He slammed his fist against the table in frustration and the vial went flying into the air.

     She jumped at the noise and turned again to face him. His face was red and his eyes were nearly black with desperation.

     "Dammit, Scully-after Duane Barry I thought we were both searching for the same truth! And now-now you're telling me it's all been about me? Christ, it's been your life these five years, too! These things happened to you, Scully. If you don't care enough about your own life to want to find the truth, then there's no way I can ever convince you it's worth pursuing."

     Her voice was shaky when she finally spoke. "Mulder, I did want the answers-about my disappearance, and Emily, and my cancer. But the harder I looked, the more questions I found." She swallowed a sob. "It was destroying me, Mulder. The way looking for Samantha has been destroying you all these years. Even when you thought you'd found her, all it brought you was despair-" She shook her head, biting her lip to repress the tears. "I'm afraid of the truth, Mulder. I admit it."

     He took three steps toward her, close enough to take her hands in his. "I can help you beat that fear. Just let me." He took one more step, close enough to pull her nearer and wrap his arms around her.

     "It's not your problem to solve, Mulder," she murmured against his chest.

     "It feels like mine. Everything about you feels like mine, Scully. I don't know where we separate anymore."

     She brought her arms stiffly across his back to embrace him. "That's just it, Mulder. We can't go on---compounding each other's despair. It's no way to live." She let go and pulled back from him, met his eyes with her own. "We could spend the rest of our lives looking for answers we'll never find. I don't want to wake up at the end of my life and realize I never lived it. Cancer taught me that. Losing Emily taught me that."

     He let her go, and watched her back as she moved toward the door. Her shoulders were sagging with exhaustion.

     She stooped to pick up her raincoat and saw the vial with the implant lying just inches away on the floor. Silently, she picked it up, studying it one last time. She rose slowly and handed it to Mulder. Then turned and left the room.

6:18 AM

Our Lady of Angels Cemetery

     Mulder barely heard his cell phone ringing over the growl of the backhoe that was exhuming the body of Jessica Kazmerski, victim number five.

     "Hey, Mulder, it's Langly."

     "It's about time, Langly. What did you guys find?"

     "Dude, you already know the answer to that. Branched DNA. Same mojo-all six samples. Pretty far out, huh?"

     "Yeah, it's pretty far out all right, but not exactly your typical abduction scenario."

     "How's that?" Frohike asked. Mulder realized he was probably on speakerphone.

     "None of these women experienced missing time, sought psychiatric help for recurrent nightmares-nothing. There's no common denominator here, except they all lived in Seattle and died within a month of each other. Right now we're exhuming the other five bodies to look for implants. Scully found one in victim number six last night."

     Byers spoke up. "Mulder, if you want to email their files to us, I can run a probability algorithm on the raw data. Maybe there's something else you're not picking up on."

     Mulder squinted against the rain that was running into his eyes from his dripping hair. "Yeah, we could try that. Hey, look-not that I doubt your talents or anything, gentlemen, but I'm having Quantico look at the blood samples, too."

     "That's fine with us," Frohike said. "I'm sure our work will stand up to confirmation by an independent laboratory."

     Mulder didn't miss the irony in Frohike's tone. The Gunmen knew very well that he was testing more than one hypothesis by sending the blood to Quantico.

      He switched off his phone and looked back at the gravesite. The backhoe had finished it's gruesome, muddy work and the casket was being reeled in from the depths of the earth on a series of pulleys and ropes. His cell phone rang again.

     "Mulder, it's Scully. Dave Franz at Quantico just called me. He said he couldn't get through to you."

     He sighed heavily, relieved to hear her voice. It meant she hadn't left yet. "Yeah, I was on another call."

     "Look, he said they found nothing genetically awry in any of the six samples."

     He shut his eyes and suppressed an expletive, throwing a shadow punch against the rain-thick air. He was furious, despite the fact that he had predicted this outcome more than twelve hours ago. "Scully, that's impossible!"

     Her silence conveyed her disagreement. "So I take it the Lone Gunmen found what you expected?" she finally offered.

     "Scully, I think what you found last night would support their findings, wouldn't it?"

     "How, Mulder?" Her voice was strangely patient despite her exasperation. "No clear scientific link was ever drawn between the implant and branched DNA."

     He silently agreed with her. It was the missing link. One of thousands of logical gaps she had pointed out to him during her tenure with the X Files. "Scully, Quantico's finding only confirms my suspicion that the government is somehow responsible for all this."

     Scully's heart ached to hear the futility in his voice. Here was one more cover-up he'd spend the rest of his breathing days trying to uncover. In vain, unless she could somehow. Then she realized it. Maybe there was a way she could help him pull back the veil of deceit. Maybe she could even do it her way.

     "Mulder, listen to me. This is going to sound like it's out on a limb, but maybe all we need is a third opinion."

     "What do you mean, Scully?"

     Her heart was racing as her mind formulated the plan. The outcome could prove her wrong for all time, but even if it did, at least they'd both arrive at the same conclusion-together, and via the same route. It might very well be her last contribution to the X Files, but at least it would be a valid one. A way of vindicating the last five years of her life, if nothing else.

     "Meet me at 3101 East Thule, Mulder, and have the bodies sent there as well. It's ForenTech's West Coast headquarters."

9:21 AM

ForenTech Incorporated, Seattle

     Scully extracted five identical implants from the necks of the five exhumed bodies in swift succession. She added Annie McLaughlin's to the collection and presented all six vials to Seth Berelowitz, Chief Investigator and Head of the Electronic Spectography Research Department, with one deceptively simple request.

     "Tell me the effects of these devices on human biology."

     Berelowitz's massive frame shook as he chuckled, white teeth flashing through a dense and scruffy black beard. "That's a tall order, Doctor Scully. As happy as I am to have a practical test case for my new invention, this---well, it could be months before I have an answer for you. Years, even."

     Scully looked at Mulder knowingly, then back at Berelowitz. "Agent Mulder and I have already spent years looking for an answer, to no avail. I think we both agree it's an answer worth waiting awhile longer for. It's an answer we both need very much to have. Personally, as well as professionally."

     Mulder looked at her, his eyes full of respect and wordless gratitude, silently agreeing to the pact they were making with this transaction. Whatever evidence Berelowitz turned up, however long it took, he agreed to accept it as the only known scientific explanation for the devices. For her sake, and for his own, he would look no further than the limit of available empirical evidence. It was a compromise he was more than willing to make, because it would give meaning to an unanswered portion of her life. That they were both able to agree on that final answer meant more to her than anything else in the world.

     And maybe that answer alone would be enough to bring him peace.

     Mulder knew he couldn't stop her from leaving, but he could give her the one parting gift that conveyed to her his esteem.

     It was raining even harder when they emerged from ForenTech's sleek white granite skyscraper, and without umbrellas they were both soaked by the time they'd run to a taxi stand to wait for the next cab.

     "Hey, Scully, did you know the natives of Seattle have over a thousand words in their language for rain?"

     Scully smiled at the joke, thinking he was probably right about that.

     "Mulder, I'm going to head straight for the airport," she said, pushing her drenched hair behind her ears. "I think I need to use some vacation time before I start my new job. This is going to have to be my last case. I'm sorry."

     He looked down at the muddy toe of his shoe as it traced the line between the dry cement beneath the shelter and the wet pavement of the sidewalk. "That's probably a good idea, Scully. You deserve some time to yourself."

     She stepped toward him, placing herself unavoidably within his field of vision. She didn't want him hiding from her anymore, least of all now.

     "Mulder, I need you to understand something."

     He forced himself to look at her, steeled himself against the grief that was expanding in his chest and threatening to explode like a thunderhead.

     "After five years, Mulder, I can't deny that there has to be someone or something responsible for everything you believe is true. But if I spend my whole life trying to prevail against an enemy I can't even identify, then my whole life has been dictated by that enemy. I don't want to allow to them that kind of power over my life."

     He nodded, silently mouthing the words "I know."

     "Mulder, I need you to know I believe in you." Her eyes were locked onto his, begging him to understand.

     He swallowed hard. "Scully if--when--I do find the truth, I don't want to do it alone. I'd like to think that if I ever got close enough to touch it, I could still call you at 3 AM to come help me."

     Scully laughed, her eyes brightening momentarily. "Of course. But at that hour of the night, Mulder, you'd better be awfully damn close."

     A taxi pulled up to the shelter and switched off its fare light. Mulder silently motioned for her to take it. She started for it, then hesitated, not quite ready to say goodbye. She turned to him and slid her arms around him, hugging him so tightly he thought she'd break both their ribcages.

     "I never told you this funny story, Mulder. When I went to meet with the people at ForenTech a few weeks ago, one of the execs asked about you. He'd gone to the Academy and heard all the stories about you."

     "Oh yeah?" Mulder's voice was hoarse with emotion.

     "Yeah." She wiped away a tear. Her voice had become a whisper. "He asked me how long I'd known 'Spooky Mulder,' and I told him 'lifetimes.'"

     She turned and got into the cab.

     He watched her leave through a curtain of water that was only half rain.