8:25 p.m.

When Mulder walked back into Scully's apartment, he found her seated 
quietly on the sofa.  She had turned off all the lamps but one and lit 
two purple and white candles on the coffee table.  The bright fire 
crackled and popped, and the wind was beginning to howl outside the 
windows.  The darkened room was warm and cozy, and he wished he didn't 
feel the heavy burden of despair that practically consumed him.

He saw that Scully had poured him another cup of coffee.  He sat 
beside her, not knowing what to say next.  Finally, he felt her hand 
on his arm, her delicate fingers running lightly along his sensitive 
skin.

"Mulder, I want to talk to you about something."

He stiffened, hearing the tone in her voice.

"And where I'm coming from, partly, is a science background, 
experience."

He nodded, understanding, and she went on.  

"Ever since the bombing in Dallas, you and I have had our relationship 
redefined.  We've grown very close.  The first moment that ever 
expressed how we felt about each other was in your hallway, when we 
almost kissed."

Mulder groaned and shut his eyes, trying to block out the sudden 
horror of everything that transpired in the seconds after their lips 
brushed each other.

"Mulder, I know you can't talk about all that.  You have it all locked 
inside of you, eating away at you, and all I know is that the 
nightmares still haven't gone away.  But with all that's happened with 
us, we still maintain boundaries.  And I can't speak for you, but at 
times, I just ..." she stopped and Mulder saw her eyes tear up, her 
lip quivering.

"Scully ..." he said softly, putting his hand on her knee.

"There are times I need you in more ways than just a partner ... or a 
friend. I am, after all, a woman," she said with a sad smile.

He realized what she was saying and he was surprised that she had 
admitted it to him.  He was speechless, and listened closely.

"We crossed the line, Mulder.  Just a few weeks ago --"  She stopped, 
not needing to remind him.

"Do you regret that?" he asked, anxiously.

"No, no.  But I'm scared to ruin what we have.  I've wondered whether 
you feel the same way."  She saw him shaking his head, and she 
continued. "But then I *know* you feel that way.  You risked 
everything to find me.  So I know, Mulder.  And that means you must 
have the same frustration and needs that I have at times."  

Scully's finger traced up his arm, toying absently with a fold in his 
sleeve. He was momentarily distracted until she started speaking 
again.  

"Awhile back, I started to wonder if maybe our denial of certain 
things might finally be hurting us instead of protecting us."

"Say what you mean," he said bluntly, suddenly sensing that he would 
not like where she was going with all this.

"It's human nature to need sexual contact.  When two people are 
together as much as we are, in compromising situations -- a lonely 
stakeout, a long, empty stretch of road, a deserted house, a hotel 
room -- and given the depth of our feelings, it is *unnatural* to 
adhere to limits.  Eventually it becomes unhealthy.  Do you see the 
paradox?  That in trying to be 'good' and go by the book, and pretend 
that we've got all our emotions under control, we are actually 
breaking down."

He was hearing the truth in everything she said.  How many times had 
he thought exactly the same things.

"Now listen carefully.  A hallucinogenic drug often exacerbates that 
trait in a person, which is lacking, or unfulfilled.  In other words, 
someone who's been on a diet for a long time, maybe they take a drug 
and go on an eating binge; or someone who is lonely and insecure will 
suddenly be dancing with everyone at the party."

Mulder broke in harshly.  "And someone who's sexually repressed will 
attack an innocent woman in the park?"

"No, not attack.  But maybe, with the help of the drug, his 
restraints, which he hates in the first place, are gone.  He is 
allowed to satisfy his desires without the benefit of guilt or even 
common sense.  It's a welcomed respite.  A purely physical release."

"Is that how you describe 'rape' in scientific terms?  The third 
person narrative added a nice touch, too."  He saw her blink slowly at 
his brash sarcasm.  "Is that what you think happened to me?  My sexual 
drive was so bottled up that it just --"  He couldn't help but laugh 
dolefully.  "Excuse the pun -- blew?  You don't think that as I felt 
the change, I would have jumped in my car, or grabbed the first cab 
and come to the very source of that repression?  You.  But I didn't.  
I went off with a stranger?"

"There is no absolute logic to this.  I'm not talking about you 
rationalizing.  I'm talking about an instinct that was motivated by 
drugs."

Mulder leveled his eyes at her.  "There *weren't* any drugs in my 
system.  Remember, Scully?"  His voice was colder than she was used 
to.

"There were no drugs *detected* in your system," she emphasized.

"Oh cut the crap!" he shouted.  "Why don't you just admit that you and 
Skinner believe that I had a few drinks and when the opportunity 
presented itself, I grabbed it!  Or should I say, grabbed *her* ?"

"Because we don't believe that!  The voice mail from Skinner--"

"There is no proof of any phone call from Skinner that night!  You 
have to take my word for that!"

"Your word is good enough for me."

"Oh, really," he said sarcastically.  "Since when?"

Scully flinched as if he'd pinched her.  "Mulder, don't do this."

"Why don't you just be fucking honest with me!"

"I'm always fucking honest with you!" she threw back.  How many times 
have I openly disagreed with you!  More times than *you'd* like to 
admit, even though two seconds ago you did just that!"

Mulder wasn't used to being bested in an argument, even though he knew 
his partner was more than capable of it.  But it still made him angry.

Mulder stood up quickly from the sofa, gritting his teeth at the pain 
in his ribs from the sudden movement.  But he had his back to Scully, 
so she didn't notice.   He walked over to stand in front of the 
fireplace.  Suddenly he had never felt so tired in all his life.  He 
rubbed his eyes, put both arms up on the mantel and leaned against 
them, staring into the dancing flames.  

Scully felt her energy draining.  She felt like she had been holding 
Mulder up the last 24 hours -- trying to be positive and supportive.  
But she couldn't take on his anger.  She didn't have the strength it 
took right now to settle him down.

They stayed in their own space for several minutes, not speaking.  
Their thoughts were on each other, but they were too confused to 
verbalize.

After the long agonizing silence, Mulder turned again to face his 
partner.  Flashes of memory assaulted him.  He had found this woman at 
the end of the world and brought her home -- brought her back to him. 
 Any other woman would not have survived.  But Scully was strong, 
determined.  Yet now, as he watched her, watching him, he saw her 
vulnerability like a tangible aura.  He realized he was taking his 
frustration out on her and he was truly sorry.

"Scully, if it were you telling this story, it would be tearing me up. 
I can't even imagine what it's doing to you."

"It's hard," she said softly.  "I never realized it could be this 
hard."

He walked back over to her, sitting closer to her, putting his hand on 
her cheek.  But she pulled away.  

"Mulder, you need to go," she said, her voice unsteady.

"Your being with me now is only reminding you of me being with her 
isn't it?"

He saw the pain cross her face and he wanted to die.  "Scully, I have 
no memory of being with that girl.  The only person I've even kissed 
with any affection in years, is you.  If part of the reason you're 
hurting is that I *didn't* come to you the night I ended up in the 
park, then it's because, like you said, it wasn't Fox Mulder.  It was 
Mr. Hyde.  And if I was Mr. Hyde, then I did beat that girl.  And I 
never, *ever* want Mr. Hyde to be with you."

She blinked slowly and a tear slid down her cheek.  Again, Mulder 
slowly touched her hair, but she leaned away a second time.

"Scully, please, especially now, don't pull away from me."

"I just need some time alone.  I'm not pulling away from you.  I'm 
just very tired.  And you need to get some sleep."

He knew there was nothing he could say. He felt defeated, like he had 
just fallen overboard and the ship was sailing away, leaving him alone 
in a cold, dark sea.  He wanted so desperately to put things back 
where they had been.  But it couldn't' be done.  Not tonight.  

Slowly he stood and picked up his coat.  "Is it okay if I call your 
mother?  I want to thank her."

"Of course."

He walked to the door and Scully stayed on the couch.  He turned and 
looked at her for a long time, and she kept her gaze on him.  In the 
shadowed light of the fire, he could see the sparkle of tears in her 
eyes.

"Scully ... I love you," he whispered.  Then he opened the door and 
was gone.

She sank into the cushions of the sofa and began to cry.

*   *   *

MARGARET SCULLY'S RESIDENCE
10:10 p.m.

Margaret Scully answered her phone just as she was getting ready to 
get into bed.  

"Hello."

There was a brief pause.  "Mrs. Scully, it's Fox Mulder."

Mulder braced himself.  He wasn't sure what to expect.  He thought he 
heard a sigh of relief.

"Fox!  Thank god you called.  I've been so worried about you."

He was more relieved than he ever thought possible under the 
circumstances.  

"Mrs. Scully, I ... don't even know what to say.  I wanted to come by, 
but --"

"Where are you now?"

"I'm on my way home.  I just left Dana's."

"Why don't you come by now?  I'd like to talk to you."

"Are you sure?  I know it's late --"

"Fox, I know how uncomfortable you are with this.  I can hear it in 
your voice.  That's why I want to talk to you.  I have a feeling you 
*need* to talk."

She heard him pause again.  The reassurance in her voice almost made 
him break down.  

"Yes, ma'am, I do," he said softly.

"I'll put some tea on.  Drive carefully.  It's starting to snow."

"I'll be there in about ten minutes."

*  *  * 10:25 p.m.

He was apprehensive all over again when he pulled into the driveway.  
She opened the door almost immediately when he knocked, so he knew she 
heard him pull up.  She hadn't bothered to get dressed again, so she 
was wearing a thick burgundy-colored wool robe with matching slippers. 
 The minute she made eye contact with Mulder, she saw his 
apprehension.  Instantly, she pulled him into the warm house and put 
her arms around him.  He hadn't expected it, and he needed it so much. 
 He wished he could have felt that from his partner as he left her 
apartment.  Maggie felt his need, as he tightly wrapped his arms 
around her, and sagged just a little, succumbing to the comfort he so 
desperately needed, while trying to ignore the slicing pain in his 
chest.  She let him stay that way for a long time before he finally 
stepped away from her.  She took him by the elbow and led him into the 
living room.

Let's go sit by the fire.  Your hands are cold.  Get comfortable and 
I'll get the tea."

He sat in a wingback chair in front of the fire.  When Maggie came in 
with the tray, he quickly rose and took it from her, setting it on a 
small table between his chair and another matching chair, which she 
sat in.  As she handed him the cup and saucer, she saw his hand 
trembling.  

<God, what he must be going through.>

Maggie stared into the fire, the closeness with Mulder stirring old 
memories. She smiled.  "Dana's father and I used to sit here together 
when there were things to talk out, decisions to be made.  A crackling 
fire seemed to calm his mood."

Mulder knew she was opening the door for him.  When she sat back and 
gave him her full attention, he began.  "Mrs. Scully, I'm so sorry for 
all of this.  When Skinner told me you helped put up the bond money, I 
was stunned. I still am.  I don't know why you would do that."

"I had my reasons, just as Director Skinner did.  Besides, I can 
afford it more than Dana, and she was on her way to the bank."

She could tell by the expression on his face that he was struggling 
with his composure.

"I don't even know how to talk about this.  I'm so ashamed," he said 
softly.

"Did you do it, Fox?"

Her direct question was a hard blow and Maggie saw him instantly pale. 

Before he could answer, she leaned forward, putting her hand on his 
knee.  "Of course you didn't," she answered for him.  "So why in the 
world should you be ashamed?"

"You've talked to Dana?"

"After you were released, yes.  And briefly this evening."

"Mrs. Scully, Dana and Director Skinner suspect that something 
happened.  I swear to you that I didn't rape that girl.  I barely 
remember seeing her in the bar."

"Fox --" 

"Hear me out, please.  They are convinced that I was drugged; that's 
why I can't remember anything.  But the drugs may have contributed to 
... being with that girl and not being myself."  

"What are you saying, Fox?"

He looked over at the fire and she could see the cup and saucer still 
shaking slightly in his hand.  He looked back over at her when he 
heard her put her cup on the table.  He was surprised when she reached 
over and took his cup and saucer from him, also setting them on the 
table.  Then she took both of his hands in hers.

"Fox, honey, listen to me."

Her kind voice hit a nerve with him and he felt his control slipping 
even more.  She saw it instantly in his face and held his hands even 
tighter.  

"You need to be frank and honest with all of us who are close to you. 
We need to know what you're thinking and feeling.  That's the only way 
we can all help each other with this terrible incident.  I'm a Navy 
wife," she said with a smile, "so I'm about as tough as they come.  I 
want you to speak candidly with me.  If you want to show your 
appreciation for helping you get out of jail, then open up to me, 
allow me to be there for you.  Trust me."

She knew those words were the link between him and her daughter.  
Mulder bent his head, and the tears began to fall.  Too much had 
happened too quickly.  He already felt alienated from the woman he 
needed most in the world, a woman he was hurting terribly.  Maggie 
knew all this.  She knew how overwhelmed he was.  He looked up at her 
and she saw him drowning in pain.

"Mrs. Scully, I may have been with that girl.  I may have done things. 
I can't even explain *what* things.  But Dana and Skinner believe they 
will find proof that I was with her.  They don't believe I hurt her, 
that I probably passed out and whoever set me up, then hurt her.  But 
trying to prove that is going to be almost impossible.  I know this.  
These people are too good at these things.  If they want me to go to 
prison for the rest of my life, then I probably will."

"You must have faith in your friends.  You and Dana have beaten almost 
impossible odds before."

"Yes, but this time I feel that her heart isn't in it.  She's 
devastated by all this.  And no matter what she says, she must be 
wondering if there is just some inkling of memory that I have.  I can 
tell you most definitely that there is not.  But it doesn't matter 
what I think."

"How Dana feels today, doesn't reflect how she'll feel tomorrow.  This 
has been a shock to both of you -- all of us.  You need time to step 
back and figure out where to go from here."

Mulder looked at her quietly for a minute.  "Did you talk to her after 
I left her apartment?"

"Yes.  She called me right after you left."

"She was upset."

"Yes, Fox.  She was very upset."

"Was she crying?" he asked, needing to know.

Margaret paused, then nodded.  She saw fresh pain cross Mulder's face. 
He put his head in his hands.  "She doesn't deserve this."

"Neither of you do.  Fox, Dana called me because she was worried about 
you.  She knew you felt her distancing herself and she felt miserable 
for it.  She's confused, just as you are, but you're both in a 
different place with this."

He was shaking his head and she again put her hand over his. 

"She knew that if you stayed and saw her pain, it would be worse for 
you.  She just needed to adjust, get stronger, so she could help you."

"I'm not sure I want Dana involved in this."

"Now wait a minute, Fox."

"If this situation were any different, I wouldn't feel this way.  But 
..." he stopped, not knowing how to explain without bringing up 
personal feelings he had.  But Maggie was too attuned.

"If you and Dana were strictly partners, if you didn't feel the way 
you do about each other, then there wouldn't be these emotional 
complications, would there?"

He was silent.

"How are you going to stop her, Fox?"

He nodded, knowing she was right.  Maggie was direct with him.  "Tell 
me what you're thinking.  I asked you to be straight with me.  I can't 
help my daughter either if you hold things back."

He hadn't considered that aspect.  He had to agree with her, as 
difficult as it was to admit the truth.  

He took a deep breath.  "As part of this investigation, Dana is going 
to have access to all the sordid details.  I can't even admit or deny 
anything because I don't remember a thing.  Some of what's reported 
may be the truth.  It would be different if I could tell Dana that I 
didn't do this, or that, but I can't.  So she'll wonder.  And it will 
be painful to hear these things. I know how I'd feel if I heard them 
about her."

"Then maybe she shouldn't be helping you on this," she said, reversing 
roles with him.

"But if she doesn't, then people are going to ask why my own partner 
has deserted me.  They'll think one of two things:  either she thinks 
I'm guilty, or there are personal reasons that make it too difficult. 
 As you might guess, there's been talk for a long time about our 
relationship."

"Yes, I can imagine."

"Well, none of it is true.  Nothing has happened that would confirm 
any of those rumors.  No one can possibly know how we feel.  They can 
only speculate."

"You know that she would never do that, leave you over this."

He stood up and walked over to the fireplace.  Maggie let him think, 
and talk.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it.  I look at what I've passed up 
for this crusade."  He turned to face her.  "Not long ago, Dana and I 
were driving somewhere.  It was dark, and as we drove through a 
neighborhood, she asked me something that struck me all of a sudden.  
She pointed out that behind those lighted windows there were families 
who were raising kids and dogs, and didn't I ever think about that 
kind of life."

Maggie waited for him to answer his own question.

"I kind of brushed it off, skimmed past it and said something smart, 
like I usually do when I don't want to really think about something.  
But I did think about it later, because I knew it must be on her mind 
more than she admits to me.  And so it's times like this that I 
question the struggle."

He sat back down and his expression took on a disposition of calm.  
"When I think about another life, a normal job and normal routine, I 
picture it with Dana.  I can't see it with anyone else.  I think about 
my future, when I've retired, and I still see Dana in my life.  And 
... it scares me, Mrs. Scully."

"Why, Fox?"

"Because I dare to hope and dream," he said with a slight smile.  
"Because there has to be more for me, sometime and somewhere, than 
this.  I'm finding it more difficult to cope with the sacrifices I've 
made in my life.  And my greatest fear is that something will happen 
to change what Dana and I have.  If that happens, I see no future for 
myself."

"Sometimes anticipating and fearing change can be the very catalyst 
for change.  Do you realize that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Have you ever talked to Dana about these feelings?"

"No."

"Do you know how she feels?"

"I think I do.  She's more demonstrative than I am.  I'm a jerk 
sometimes; a typical man."

Maggie smiled.  "Dana has talked to me about things, just as you are 
now.  I'm not sure what she would want me to reveal, but I would guess 
that you'd rather me keep this conversation between us confidential.  
So I won't divulge to you what she's told me.  But I can tell you that 
Dana's always been the independent one.  She's very kind, and 
sensitive, but she looks out for herself and if a decision is not in 
her best interest, no one can persuade her otherwise.  But I've seen a 
change in her where you're concerned. I've seen her sacrifice more, 
question more, and allow herself to get hurt."

Maggie knew that would hit home with Mulder, but he needed to hear the 
truth. 

"But I've also seen her happier than she's ever been in her life.  She 
loves her job, and she has a friendship with you that is very rare.  
It has given her hope for the future as well, Fox.  That's about all I 
can say to you, and I know it's not much.  I'm sure this is not 
exactly what you wanted to hear, but the fact that Dana is so hurt by 
this should tell you how she feels about you."

Mulder reached for his tea and as he sipped it, he thought about 
Maggie's words.  She allowed him the quiet contemplation.  When the 
tea was half finished, he set the cup down again and leaned forward, 
his forearms on his knees, and looked deeply into Maggie's eyes.  He 
felt a familiar link, almost the same blue eyes he was so accustomed 
to gazing into.  When he spoke, his voice was subdued, as if the 
weight of the world sat on every word.

"Right now, I feel more lost than I've ever felt in my life.  I hate 
the thought of what is going to come out of all this.  I'd rather be 
accused of murder.  Mrs. Scully, I don't even know how I'm going to 
face each day.  I've always felt secure knowing that Scully was beside 
me.  But now, I don't want her there because of how much this is going 
to hurt her.  It's a no win situation for both of us.  What should I 
do?" he asked in quiet desperation.

"Take each day, one at a time.  Let Dana guide her own way.  Don't 
push or pull.  As for yourself, have faith, Fox.  You are a kind, 
honest man. You have done a world of good in your lifetime so far, and 
you will be rewarded for that.  Believe it.  It may be down the road a 
ways, but I know in my heart that you will prevail.  The people who 
know you best believe in you, and really, that's all that counts.  
They will find the truth that you have dedicated your life to, and it 
will save you."

<The truth will save you.  I believe it will save both of us.>

When Margaret stood Mulder followed, once again taking her in his 
arms.  As they held each other, she said a silent prayer to give him 
strength and peace.  Then she let him go.

"I can see myself out.  Thank you.  You have given me more than you 
can imagine.  I will fight, Mrs. Scully, because I won't let down the 
people who are standing by me."

She smiled and watched him walk out of the room.  

It was so easy to understand how her daughter could be in love with 
him.


NEXT DAY
4:35 p.m.
Fox Mulder's Apartment

Mulder had been given paid leave from the Bureau while the 
investigation was going on.  He was spending the day at home, alone, 
and not talking to anyone. There was a knock at the door and a 
messenger handed him an envelope. He saw it was from Skinner.  When he 
opened it, he found a mini cassette. Written on the label was 
'Interview with cab driver.'  Taking the tape recorder from under his 
desk, he put it on the table and put the tape in.

Forty-five minutes later, as the interview came to a close, Mulder sat 
there, numb with shock.  Just as he swore to himself that he would do 
everything possible to see that Scully never listened to the tape, he 
heard a female voice at the end of the interview. 

Stopping the tape, he sat for a moment, his body suddenly breaking out 
in a cold sweat.  With a quivering finger, he hit REWIND for just a 
few seconds, turned the volume all the way up, and then played it 
again.  

<Can I see you outside for a minute?>

<Mr. Venetti, I think that's all we have for now.>  *We*

When the tape ended, Mulder sank back against the chair, the silent 
hiss of the reel continuing to play in the silent room.  He closed his 
eyes.  

<Oh fuck.>

*   *   *   *   *

SAME DAY
6:02 p.m.

Scully was working at home.  She was on her computer, doing a 
background check on the girl when there was a knock on her door.

"Scully, it's me," Mulder said before she could look through the 
peephole.

She opened the door and without looking at her, he briskly entered

"Mulder, what ...?" she said, surprised, as she shut the door.

When he faced her, his eyes were hard, strange.  He pulled the 
cassette out of his pocket and held it up close to her face.

"This is the interview yesterday with the cab driver.  Is that your 
voice at the end of the interview?"  His question sounded like an 
interrogation.

She was silent.  She anticipated this reaction when he heard the 
interview, and the distress was clearly apparent.

"Were you there!  Scully!" he asked impatiently.

No response from her.  Mulder's whole body was shaking.  "Did you hear 
what happened in the back seat of that car - what I did!  Did you hear 
all that!  Were you there, Scully!  Answer me!  ANSWER ME DAMMIT!"

"YES!" she finally screamed back at him, not sure whether her anger 
was because of the content of the interview, or the fact that Mulder 
made her confess to being there.

Mulder grabbed his head and bent over, as Scully heard his cry of 
anguish.  Her concern for her partner was greater than her own pain 
and she went to him, but as she touched him, he jerked away from her. 
 

When he stood up, his face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed with worry 
and lack of sleep.

"I ..am .. so .. sorry," he stammered.

Scully was overwhelmed by his pain.  "Mulder, it's okay."

"I did it, didn't I?"

She didn't answer him.  His voice broke into a strangled cry and he 
staggered back against the sofa.

"Mulder, please ..."

"I can't be innocent of this whole set up because no one but me would 
know that I'd call out your name!  No one but me would know that I 
fantasize about us!  Only I would know that!"  His eyes seemed to 
glaze over and his voice was barely audible.  "I did it!  I raped that 
girl!  I may have beaten her up!"

"No!"

Mulder was losing control.  He screamed at Scully and thrust his hands 
out in front of her.

"Look at my hands, Scully!  They're bruised!  That's from hitting her! 
OH GOD HELP ME!"

He was so grieved and distraught that he crumpled to the floor in a 
heap, his body heaving with sobs.  The sharp throbbing pain in his 
side only added to his agonizing torment.  Scully instantly kneeled 
beside him, putting her arms around him and pulling his head to her 
chest.  He melted into her embrace, letting her hold him.  Scully, 
crying with him, realized that he really had no idea what he had done. 
 She tried to quiet him, knowing that his pain was far worse than hers 
and feeling terrible for putting herself before him.

"Shhh, it's okay sweetheart.  It's going to be okay."   Scully's words 
of comfort came pouring out before the rational part of her could 
relay that this was her partner she was speaking to.  But having him 
trembling with fear in her arms, hardly able to speak coherent words 
from his brilliant mind, she succumbed to her impulsive, maternal, 
emotion-wracked instincts.  Her partner, this man whom she loved more 
than life itself, was in dire torment and needed her help desperately.

She kissed his forehead.  After a minute, he was quiet but he still 
held on to her tightly.  Scully kissed his forehead again, then after 
only a split-second decision, she lifted his chin and without 
hesitation, put her mouth to his.  

Mulder reacted instinctively, first startled, then responding to her 
by parting her lips with his tongue and kissing her passionately.  But 
then, as reason brought him to his senses, he realized what he was 
doing and he pulled back, once again crying out.

"No, Scully, how can you -- !"

"Because you're my friend and I love you!  I love you, Mulder.  And I 
don't know how to take your pain away!" she sobbed.

Mulder pulled out of Scully's arms and stood up, his arm instantly 
clutching his chest, attempting to brace his rib.  Scully saw what he 
did, but Mulder had plunged ahead.

"I don't deserve you!  I don't deserve anybody!  I don't care what 
drugs were given me, I acted from what was inside me!"

Scully also got to her feet.  "No you did not!  What you were given 
could have completely changed you!"

"That's BULLSHIT and you know it!  I was sexually repressed and the 
drugs allowed me to act on that!  Subconsciously I knew that if it 
were *you* I went to, it might destroy us, so I forced myself on 
someone else."

"I'll never believe that!  I know you too well!"

Suddenly Mulder grabbed her roughly just above her elbows and pulled 
her into his body.  "Do you?" he snarled.  His eyes were blazing with 
an intensity Scully had never seen before.  She watched his face as 
his eyes traveled longingly down to her breasts, then back up to meet 
her eyes.  His face had broken out in a sweat, but she didn't know it 
was from trying to suppress the pain.  When he smiled, it was dark, 
menacing, and Scully felt her heart flip-flop.

"Don't you want to see the other side of me, Scully?  The part that 
you and Skinner believe is lurking behind my armor of restraint?  My 
dark side," he droned with a smirk.

"No, Mulder ..."

He pulled her even closer and she could feel the heat emanating off of 
him, feel his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arms.  
She wasn't afraid of him, but she knew that the wrong move from her 
could have disastrous consequences.  Mulder's hands moved slowly up 
her arms to the top of her shoulders, then across to rest on either 
side of her neck.  She could feel his heart racing against her chest. 
 Scully was too shocked to react when she felt his left hand slowly 
begin to slide down her neck, his fingers continuing to trace an 
agonizingly slow downward path.  His eyes were pools of black as they 
catalogued her reaction.

"Mulder, please ...," she urged, hoping to reach her friend and 
partner, whom she knew would never intentionally hurt her.

When his hand purposely brushed across her left breast and reached for 
the top button of her sweater, she was catapulted from her stupor.  
Flinging his hand away, she slapped him hard enough to snap his head 
to the side.  

"STOP THIS!" she shouted at him.

The slap, which jerked his body to the side, almost took him to the 
floor.  The pain in his ribs was excruciating.  He somehow managed to 
stay on his feet and regain his senses.

When Mulder's head slowly pivoted back around, Scully saw his features 
again transformed into the man she knew as her caring, sensitive 
partner.  Realizing what he had done, he was even more engulfed in 
guilt and regret.  Gently, he placed his hands in her hair, then 
stepped back from her as if his touch would burn her. She tried to 
take his hands, but once again he pulled away.  She prayed his calmer 
state would give her the chance to reason with him before any more 
damage was done.

"Look, I'm a doctor, I know what I'm talking about.  Certain drugs 
cause an entire chemical change.  There wasn't any decision to be 
made, Mulder! There was no rationale involved in this!  It's like 
giving someone crystal meth.  It completely changes their personality 
and even their physiology.  They become violent and super strong, not 
even remembering later what they did.  That's what happened to you!  
You did not do this!" she pleaded, trying everything in her power to 
reach him.

Mulder's eyes narrowed with anguish as he stared into the ice blue 
eyes of the woman he loved.  Scully saw him blink slowly, his eyes 
seeming to be weighted down as his lids raised halfway.  She knew she 
had to reach him, had to console him with words he had never heard her 
speak before.

"You didn't do this, honey.  Your physical reaction, your anguish and 
indisputable abhorrence of what happened is proof that Fox Mulder 
couldn't have done this terrible thing."

Carefully, Scully approached him, as if saying or doing the wrong 
thing would shatter him into pieces.  Gently she took his hand in 
hers, getting no resistance this time.

"I made a mistake last night, Mulder.  I let you walk out of here when 
you needed me so much," she said, her voice cracking.  "I let you go 
because I didn't think I could handle it.  I didn't even consider what 
you were going through.  I let you down."

He closed his eyes, with one shake of his head, as if he wouldn't even 
hear of such a thing.  But Scully went on, trying to reach him.

"I know you so well.  Better than anyone in the world, and I should 
have seen what was happening to you.  I'm the one who should 
apologize."

Mulder's emotions were spent.  As if in a trance, he seemed to be 
looking straight through Scully.  She became afraid of his blank 
stare.

"Mulder ..?"

"There's only one way to make this right," he said, as if talking to 
the wall.

"Yes.  Find the truth.  And we will," she answered desperately.

"No.  This is going to get worse, and I can't take it getting worse.  
I can't go beyond this point.  Don't you see that?"

She felt a stab of panic course through her.  She knew Fox Mulder too 
well, and the implications of what he was saying turned her blood 
cold.  Her voice was strained as she fought for control.  

"You think this is painful for me now?  Do you have any idea what it 
would do to me if I lost you?  I would never recover.  Do you want to 
do that to me?  I'll overcome this, and so will you, and so will *we*. 
 This is a blink of an eye in our lifetime.  We have a whole future 
ahead.  They won't win, Mulder.  There are too many people on your 
side.  But if you give up, we don't have a chance."

"It would be better in the long run.  You just can't see it now."

He turned and picked up his jacket off the edge of the sofa.  He had 
to get out of there.  He had hidden things from her, and now he was 
hiding his injury.  Between his devastated mental state and the 
lightheadedness and nausea he was experiencing, he knew he could 
collapse with his next step.  He didn't want to put Scully through any 
more tonight, but he no longer felt in control.  

Scully held on to his arm, scared now.  "Don't go.  Stay here with 
me."

"Stay with you?  Aren't you afraid?" he said quietly, drained of any 
further emotion.

"I trust you with my life.  We need each other tonight, just to hold 
each other.  Please."

"Being together tonight won't fix anything.  How are you going to feel 
next week when you find out that was my semen inside that girl!  I 
forced her to the ground, forced her legs apart -"

Scully's anguish was too much for words as she leaned back against an 
armchair for support.  Mulder's emotions were roller-coastering and 
she was becoming dizzy from the ride.

"You read the medical report!  There were bite marks on her breasts!  
Her clitoris was almost bitten in half!  I would never, NEVER -" 
Mulder broke down again and Scully reached for him, but he brushed 
past her and went to the door.  

Scully grabbed the sleeve of his coat as he tried to put it on.  "No, 
Mulder. Don't go.  We'll just sit here on the couch, no more talk.  
Please.  Please," she pleaded.

"You never should have gotten mixed up with me.  You should have left 
a long time ago when you had the chance.  I've destroyed my life, my 
career, but you have everything ahead of you, Scully.  Quit the FBI.  
Go be a doctor. Meet someone nice and live in that neighborhood you 
talked about. You deserve it.  Forget about me."

When he pulled away from her, she lunged for him again, but he shoved 
her back roughly, slamming the door behind him.  Scully knew it was 
futile to go after him, he would only push her away again.  

Hurriedly she went to the phone and dialed Skinner's number.  As 
quickly as possible, she told him how distraught Mulder was, 
especially after listening to the tape and learning that she had 
participated in the interview.  She admitted to him that she was 
afraid he would do something crazy, that he couldn't accept what he 
believed he had done.  

Skinner didn't need to hear the words, he could hear the despair and 
the absolute terror in Scully's voice.  He reassured her he would find 
Mulder, but he couldn't mask the concern in his own words.  They both 
shared the same unspoken fear that Fox Mulder was being pushed beyond 
his breaking point . . . 

. . . the same point his mother could not come back from.

*   *   *

12:22 a.m.
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT

The hours dragged by as Scully stood by the open blinds, her attention 
alerted to every passing car.  She had called the Lone Gunmen hours 
ago. She explained what she could to them, more than Mulder probably 
would have wanted, but she was desperate.  She trusted them, knowing 
how much they cared about Mulder and would want to help him in any way 
they could.  They understood that he might have been involved, but 
they also believed that Mulder would not have acted that way without 
some extreme drug in his body.

Scully was sick with worry as Mulder's friends searched relentlessly 
for him. 



*   *   *

At 3:30 a.m., there was a knock at Scully's door.  Frantic that it was 
Mulder, she didn't even check to see first, but flung the door open.  
She was shocked to find a tall, dark figure in the doorway.   

Mr. X glanced nervously down the hall.  "I need to talk to you, Agent 
Scully."

She hesitated only long enough to realize that his visit was not a 
coincidence.  

<He must know something about my partner.>  

She opened the door wider and he stepped in.

"Is there any word on Mulder yet?" he asked.

"How did you know we're looking for him?"

"Answer the question."

"No, we haven't found him.  What do you know about all this?"

Mr. X saw her fatigue, her worry.  She looked like she had been 
crying. 

"I can tell you this: Agent Mulder didn't do what he's accused of."

Mr. X was even more shocked at Scully's reaction, or rather 
non-reaction.  "You believe he did," he said, incredulous.

"There is a lot of evidence.  When the DNA comes back --"

"It will show that he didn't have sex with the girl."

"Then why this elaborate set up if in a week he's proven not guilty.  
Why go to the trouble if they can't prove that."

"Because the plan is to beat him down so much, make him believe he did 
these things, that he'll crack.  Maybe even take his own life.  At the 
very least, ruin your partnership.  Think about that.  What are you 
doing right now? You're not busy proving he didn't do it, you're 
trying to prove it wasn't rape.  You believe he's capable of this act. 
 Even when it's proven to be a lie when the tests come back, the fact 
remains that you and Skinner think he did it.  What you had in your 
partnership will be changed for good.  The trust you proclaim absolute 
in each other will be shattered.  This will always hang between you.  
 A lot can happen in a week, Agent Scully."

It had to be true.  But she still looked doubtful, mainly because the 
source was so unfamiliar to her, a shadowy giver of partial truths.

"How do you know he didn't do it?" she asked.

"Because I know who did.  By the time I heard what was happening, it 
was too late."

"Do you know who's behind this?"

Mr. X gave no response.

"DAMMIT!  How do we stop this if we can't give Mulder any proof that 
this whole thing is a lie."

"Oh, it's not entirely a lie.  Someone did have sex with that girl, 
and someone did beat her."

"And you know who?"

"I'm here to help your partner.  The other will be taken care of."

"I don't know where Mulder went.  Several people are out looking for 
him."  Scully eyed him again.  "Are you telling me the truth?  That my 
partner did not have sex with that girl, or ---"    

X narrowed his eyes, his glare boring through her and Scully realized 
the truth of his words, that she in fact was questioning her partner's 
innocence. The realization made her queasy.  But she had to question, 
because she wanted to hear him tell her again that her partner had 
been framed.

"He didn't lay a hand on her.  He was unconscious the whole time.  You 
found alcohol in his system and there *was* an unknown substance.  You 
won't identify the unknown, but if you could, it would make good 
argument that he might not have been able to ... perform.  Their only 
little mistake."

"But he got in the car with her from the bar.  The bartender --"

"Quit last night and left town."

"The cab driver?"

"Same thing.  Gone.  If the police ever find them, their stories will 
be that Mulder threatened them.  All part of the game.  Agent Mulder 
never got in the cab with any girl."

"And what about the girl?"

"That's another story, one I'm not prepared to explain right now."

Scully could see X's disgust regarding the doubts she had about her 
partner.  His voice was cold.  "Your partner did nothing wrong."

Scully was dumbfounded, and she knew that X was right; the breakdown 
between them had already started because Scully believed it had 
happened, regardless of the reason.  And also, after less than 48 
hours, Mulder was so ravaged with guilt that Scully *did* fear for his 
safety.

"When we find him, you need to explain this to him," she said.

"No.  He's being watched.  I can't be seen going to his apartment, nor 
can I call him.  His apartment could be wired, his phones bugged.  
It's risky even coming here.  You need to find him.  Tell him and 
Skinner the truth.  Then you must investigate this separate from the 
police.  That's the only way you're going to get ahead of the ones who 
did this -- if they don't suspect that you know.  Otherwise they'll be 
covering their tracks in front of you."

X looked hard at her, and Scully nodded that she understood.  He put 
his hand on the doorknob, then stopped, his glare on her unwavering.

"Tell Mulder to tell you the whole truth."

When she frowned, he merely nodded, then without another word, he 
slipped quietly out of the apartment.  

*   *   *

Half an hour later, keeping vigil by the window, she was jolted by the 
ringing of the telephone. 

<Please let it be Mulder.>

"Hello," she answered anxiously.

"Scully, it's Skinner.  I'm with Mulder," he said shortly.

"Thank god," she breathed with relief.

"It's not all good news.  There's been an accident."

Scully braced herself and gripped the phone tightly.

"He was crossing the street and got hit by a truck."

Scully's heart quickened. "How bad is he, sir?" she said, trying to 
steady her voice.

"I don't know yet.  But he was able to tell the hospital personnel to 
notify me."

Skinner's remark wasn't lost on Scully.  In any other situation, 
Mulder wouldn't hesitate having his partner called.  But this time he 
had them contact his boss.  She knew at least he was cognizant of what 
had transpired earlier between them -- a bittersweet realization.    

"Which hospital, sir?"

"Bethesda."

"I'll be right there."

Scully felt her conflicting emotions were tearing her apart.  Her mind 
was a jumble of confusion, relief and dread.  She dialed the Lone 
Gunmen's number, but there was no answer, so she left a message.  She 
knew they were out looking for Mulder as well.

When she got to the hospital, she instantly found Skinner in the 
waiting area.  He saw her anxiety and took her quickly by the arm, 
pulling her into a private room where he shut the door.

"How is he?" she asked anxiously.

"The doctor will be out any minute, but I've been told he's 
conscious." 

"Do you know what happened?  Was it a hit and run?"

"It wasn't a hit and run.  The driver of the pickup is in the lobby 
waiting for news also.  He says he didn't see him as he came around 
the corner.  His left headlight was out, so when he turned the corner, 
Mulder wasn't in his beam of light."

"So it could have been an accident?"

"It looks like it *was* an accident."

There was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in.  "Is this the 
person you were waiting for?" he asked Skinner.

"Yes.  Agent Scully, this is Dr. Green."

They shook hands and Green motioned for them both to sit.  Skinner 
preferred to stand next to Scully, who sat on the couch with Green 
beside her.

"Mr. Mulder, or I guess it's Agent Mulder -- is your partner, I 
understand?"

"Yes."

"Well, he's very lucky.  Apparently he saw the vehicle at the last 
minute and kind of threw himself on the hood as it hit him.  He 
bounced off the windshield and rolled over the top of the truck into 
the street.  He slid several feet, scraping the skin off his forearm 
and fracturing his wrist.  Looks like he also cracked a rib but 
there's no sign of lung puncture. His head received a minor skull 
fracture when he either hit the  windshield or the pavement.  Other 
than that, he's got multiple cuts and some pretty severe bruising, but 
nothing serious.  We'll cast his arm in the morning and then I'm going 
to keep him a couple of days.  Tomorrow he's going to feel like ... 
well, like he got hit by a truck.  He'll recover, but he's going to 
feel like hell."

"Can we see him?" asked Scully.

"I'm sending him down for a CAT scan, then he'll be taken to a room.  
The nurse will let you know when he's finished."

"Thank you," said Skinner.

The doctor walked out.  Skinner sighed with relief, "Well, that was 
the first piece of good news we've had in two days."

"Not necessarily," she said quietly, a faint smile touching her lips.

Skinner frowned and Scully motioned him next to her on the couch.

"Sir, you're not going to believe this."



5:18 a.m.
BETHESDA HOSPITAL

Scully walked softly into the hospital room.   The lights were off, 
and the blinds were open to the darkness.  Through a thick cloud 
cover, sleet hit the windowpanes.  She went to the bed, looking down 
at her partner as he slept quietly.  A heavy bandage covered the 
scrape on his right arm, and his left arm had a temporary cast.  There 
were numerous cuts on his face and a large bruise on his forehead.  
Scully sat gently on the side of the bed and put his hand in hers.  
She saw him open his eyes and blink slowly.  Bending over close to 
him, she smiled.

"Hey.  You ever heard of a crosswalk?"

Mulder, groggy from medication and beginning to feel the soreness in 
his body, gradually turned on his side, moving his body closer to 
Scully, resting his hand on her thigh.  She brushed his hair off his 
forehead and kissed him. 



"Scully, it was an accident," he whispered.

"I know."

"I wasn't looking."

"I know that.  You tried to get out of the way of the truck, and you 
probably lessened your injuries."

She saw his eyes close and his breathing was deep.  For several 
minutes she just watched him, a millions thoughts going through her 
mind.  He looked so peaceful, as if he hadn't gone through hell the 
last two days.  She thought again about what Mr. X had told her, that 
her partner hadn't done anything wrong.  She ached remembering his 
pain and absolute bewilderment.  Scully laid her head against his 
cheek, thinking he was asleep, but she felt a light squeeze of his 
hand in hers.   With her lips against his ear, she whispered softly to 
him.

"Everything is going to be all right.  I want you to go to sleep now."

He opened his eyes, "Scully ..."

She sat up a little, her face inches from his.    She saw how heavy 
his eyelids were, trying to keep them open.  "I need you.  Help me 
fight this."

Scully blinked back tears, smiling at him.  "We have some new 
evidence, Mulder.  I'll tell you later when you're more alert.  But 
for right now, I'll tell you that you did nothing wrong.  We were 
wrong."

She could tell that he wasn't understanding what she was saying.  She 
pulled the thin blanket up over his chest.

"I want you to close your eyes now.  Go to sleep.  I'll be right 
here."

"I'm sorry."

Scully leaned over and tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth.  
"There's nothing to be sorry for, partner.  Go to sleep."

He closed his eyes.

*   *   *

11:22 a.m.
BETHESDA HOSPITAL

Through the early morning hours, Mulder slept.  A winter storm had 
moved into the Washington area, bringing snow flurries and bitter 
winds.

When a doctor and nurse came in with the casting materials for 
Mulder's arm, he still slept.  So Scully took the opportunity to go to 
the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and a bagel.  She hadn't been there 
long when a familiar figure in a long coat come around the corner.  AD 
Skinner caught her eye and smiled, approaching her table.  He pulled 
out a chair to sit down, but his face looked stern.

"I've been looking for you," he said.

"Did you just come from Mulder's room?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Yes.  He's still asleep."

Skinner leaned over the table toward her and his voice was barely 
above a whisper.  "Scully, I got a surprise visit a short while ago at 
my apartment."

"Mulder's mysterious contact?"

"Yes.  It was disturbing."

"Why?  What did he have to say?"

"Huh?  Oh, no, I mean it was disturbing that he knew where I lived. "

Scully nodded and waited for him to continue.

"He told me everything he told you yesterday.  He was upset by his 
encounter with you."

"In what way?"

"He suspected you didn't believe your partner."

Scully dropped her head back and expelled a breath.  Then she faced 
Skinner again.  

"Well, let's face it.  Although we both believed Mulder incapable of 
what he's accused of, we certainly had our doubts about him not being 
involved at all.  Now I can see why he gets so frustrated with me when 
I conclude theories based simply on hard evidence.  Hard evidence can 
be deceiving."

"Agent Scully, you've just described the very essence of the X-Files. 
How could you not keep that foremost in your mind?"

She shook her head, more to herself, and mumbled, "I don't know."

"Mulder's contact was very explicit on one point.  We cannot let 
anyone know that we have this information.  Mulder's life depends on 
it.  We have to prove him innocent through our own investigation.  Now 
that we know there's another angle, we can pursue other avenues.  
We'll have to make it look like we simply trust and believe in him."

She nodded, agreeing with him so far.  Skinner absently picked up 
Scully's coffee spoon and tapped it lightly on the table.  

"Mulder's going to have to be as patient as he can be.  It's going to 
be tough.  There's a polygraph set up for tomorrow afternoon.  Many of 
those questions will be based on statements the victim made.  She 
seems to be corroborating the story the cab driver made to the police 
-- pretty much what he told us."

"What a surprise," Scully mumbled flatly.

"I know.  Right now I'm concerned about how Mulder's reactions will 
register."

"What do you mean?"

"Scully, he doesn't remember anything.  If he admits to that, he'll be 
answering truthfully.  But if we tell him what we know, and emphasize 
that he has to keep it to himself, it could skew the polygraph.  Do 
you see what I'm saying.  He will be confused trying to answer 
truthfully."

Scully's expression fell.  "Oh, god.  I see what you mean.  You're 
right."

"Did you tell him anything yesterday?"

"I ... simply said that there was new evidence, that I knew he didn't 
do anything.  But I don't think he'll remember even that, sir.  He was 
heavily medicated and in a lot of pain at the time."

"Good," he answered quickly, then recanted.  "Well, not good that he 
was in pain."

"Sir, Mulder's emotional state is very precarious right now.  You know 
that.  Imagine what he must be feeling and thinking -- look at what 
*we* even thought with the evidence at hand.  To keep the truth from 
him --"

"Scully, I know," he said distinctly, but still softly, his eyes 
burning into hers.  "But his life is in danger if he learns the truth 
too soon.  Is there any way to speed up the DNA test?"

"Not likely.  The time factors involve the specimen cultivating.  
There's no way to speed that up."

"Then there are two things we can do to keep Mulder safe -- both from 
them, and . . ." Skinner hesitated.  " . . . from himself.  We can 
convince him that without question we believe he's completely 
innocent, that he was set up.  It's what the conspirators would expect 
us to believe any way."

"What's the other thing?"

Skinner hesitated, turning the spoon over a couple of times on the 
table.  Then he looked up at Scully.  "There is one sure place where 
Mulder will be safe until the tests come back and he's exonerated."

He waited to see if she would understand what he was saying and he saw 
her eyes widen.

"Jail!"

"Scully, the district attorney wants to lock him up.  The Bureau -- 
mainly me -- has been standing in the way. "

She was angry now.  "Bending to political pressure is *not* in 
Mulder's best interest right now!"

"No, the political pressure has been on Mulder's side, keeping him 
*out* of jail."

Skinner leaned even closer and kept his voice low.  "Something's going 
on, on Capitol Hill.  I don't have any hard facts, I just know that 
this case has somebody's interest."

Scully was curious, but didn't question him on it.  She was aware that 
her partner had some pretty impressive contacts.

"Then somebody must know something, sir.  If the political pressure is 
on Agent Mulder's side --

"I'm talking about *public* pressure against the Bureau protecting one 
of its own.  Mulder needs to believe in the system, let it work for 
him."

Scully rolled her eyes.  "Oh, please.  You expect Mulder to believe in 
a system that has constantly put walls between him and the truth?"

"Then how do we protect him?"  he said, sitting straight in his chair, 
challenging her to give him an alternative.

She felt caught in the web.  She slowly reached across the table, 
taking the spoon away from Skinner and absently stirring her coffee.  
When she looked back up at Skinner, her face was pale.

"How do we convince Mulder we believe him, then allow him to be thrown 
in jail?"

"No matter what he feels, Scully, at least he'll be safe."

She rubbed her eyes wearily.  "God, I hate this.  We can't even tell 
him that we know of his innocence."

"Not yet.  Not before the polygraph.  *You* have to be patient, too."

Slowly she shook her head.  "No.  There is another way.  A legitimate 
way.  Mulder's not well due to his injuries.  He can be put back in 
the hospital under a guard."

"I'm not as secure with that."

"I'll be with him most of the time.  Sir, this is one instance where I 
have to take Mulder's emotional state into consideration.  I just 
can't let him go back to jail.  As a physician, I fear for his 
physical health -- but as his closest friend, I fear for his mental 
health."

Skinner saw the determination in her face.  He nodded.  "All right."

Scully started to stand, but he put a hand on her arm.  "Scully, 
finish your meal.  You need to eat."

"I've lost my appetite.  Besides, he should be waking up soon.  I want 
to be there."

Skinner stood with her.  "I'll call you later."

"What are you going to do?"

He stuck his hands in his coat pocket and fixed her with a look.  
"I'll call you later," he answered, walking away.. 

*   *   *

2:42 p.m.

Mulder still hadn't awakened when Scully was called to the phone at 
the nurse's station.  It was Danny, at the Bureau, who had been 
checking some references for her.  Scully went to an empty waiting 
room and used a pay phone to call him back.  Their conversation lasted 
for about 15 minutes before she returned to Mulder's room.

He was awake when she entered, a nurse standing over him taking blood. 
As Scully moved closer to the bed, Mulder's eyes shifted immediately 
to her and she saw his look of relief.  Neither said anything until 
the nurse had finished.

"Mr. Mulder, do you need anything?" the nurse asked.

"Just another blanket."

"I'll be right back."  The elderly nurse winked at Scully.  "See that 
he stays put," she joked.

"If you only knew," Scully whispered under her breath.

Scully took her place at Mulder's bedside.  Lowering the bed rail, she 
gently sat on the mattress, putting her arm on the opposite side of 
him and leaning over him.  "Hey, partner," she said, offering him a 
tender smile.

"Hi," he answered softly.

"Are you cold?" she asked, taking his hands.  They were icy.  "You're 
freezing," she said, surprised.

She knew that part of it was still shock.  Mulder thought he was 
hallucinating when Scully raised his hands to her lips and blew a warm 
breath over them.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"It hurts to move anything."

"Then don't move anything," she teased lightly.  "Can I see?"

She took hold of his gown, and carefully raised it above his chest to 
check his injuries.  She found the whole right side of his body 
bruised, the discoloration extending from underneath his armpit to his 
waist.  Being as gentle as possible, she carefully hooked her thumb in 
the elastic of his underwear and pulled it several inches down, where 
more of the bruising was exposed.  As she pulled his boxers even 
further down, she saw that the skin was scraped almost to his groin.  
She tried to mask her emotion, but Mulder saw her cringe.

"Jesus, Mulder," she whispered.  "Apparently this is where you took 
most of the impact."

"Yeah, kind of turned the pavement into a slip and slide."

Mulder saw her trained eye taking in every aspect of his injury, but 
there was no clinical detachment there, only concern.  Finally she put 
his clothes right again and covered him with the sheet.  "You were 
lucky, partner."

She saw his lids lower and he pursed his lips, but didn't voice his 
thoughts. Scully could guess from his expression what he was thinking.

"Mulder --  She stopped when the door opened and the nurse stuck her 
head in.

"Mr. Mulder ..."

Scully instantly saw that although she held the blanket under one arm, 
she hesitated entering the room and looked uncomfortable. 

"There's a man from the police here to see you."

Scully avoided looking at Mulder.  She went toward the nurse and took 
the blanket from her.  A tall, heavyset man in a dark suit pushed the 
door open and brushed past the nurse, but Scully stepped between the 
man and Mulder.

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, Agent Mulder's partner.  And you are?"

"Don Blass.  Special Investigator."

"So you're not really a cop," Scully insinuated with a slight sneer.  
"Agent Mulder has an attorney.  You should be speaking with him."

"No need.  I came down here to pick up a copy of Mr. Mulder's blood 
test.  I guess you know that a polygraph has been scheduled for 
tomorrow afternoon.  Looks like the big Oxford grad is going to be put 
to the test."

<So there is it again> Scully thought.  Some hotshot wanna-be had 
learned of Mulder's impressive background and was determined to see 
him fall.  She tried to remain passive.

"Agent Mulder may not be out of the hospital."

"I'm told he will be."

"He's not able to drive downtown to --"

"That's why he has a partner," he said smartly.

"Look --" she started, her tone threatening.

"Scully ..." Mulder said softly.

Glaring at the man who seemed smug about his mission, she finally 
turned to her partner.  

"It's okay," he said to her, then to the investigator, "I'll be there. 
When and where?"

Scully didn't let on that she already had this information.

"Two-thirty. State Attorney's Office, 2nd floor, room 211," Blass 
answered curtly.

Satisfied, Blass started to turn, but Scully took a step forward, not 
willing to concede.  "Wait a minute.  Just because he's being released 
doesn't mean he needs to be walking around town.  He can barely move 
without pain."

"Then he should have watched where he was going.  If your boss hadn't 
pulled strings to spring him, he would have been safely in jail and 
you wouldn't need to worry your pretty little ass --"

Scully's eyes widened in rage and vaguely she heard her partner behind 
her.

"What the hell...!" Mulder shouted.

Scully leveled her eyes at the man and although he was more than a 
foot taller, her stature could be deceiving when she was angry.  "I 
want to see some I.D. right now!"

She had assumed he was working for the U.S. Attorney's Office, or 
maybe the D.A., but his behavior demonstrated otherwise.

With a smile on his fat face, he pulled a flat wallet from his coat 
and flipped it open.  Scully's face reddened with rage as she read the 
badge and I.D. card.

"You're not a Special Investigator!  You're a private investigator!  
For whom!"

"The victim's uncle hired me."  He pointed the wallet at Mulder.  
"Hope you've got some big bucks!"

Scully fought to keep her gun holstered.  "Listen you bastard, you get 
the hell out of this room right now, and if you EVER make another 
remark like that to me, I'll file charges against you.  And don't 
believe I won't. I've dealt with men like you who only *wish* they had 
the brains and the background of that man right there!"

"I know about psychological profiles," Blass said smartly.  "I'm well 
aware that there's a definite link between high intelligence and the 
propensity for sexual deviance.  And as I understand it, your 
partner's IQ shoots off the scale, which puts him at the top of the 
chart for sexual perverts."

Scully would have gone for the man herself if she hadn't heard her 
partner behind her, grabbing the tray table to try and pull himself 
up. Instantly she went to him, easily restraining him in his weakened 
condition with a hand on his shoulder.  She turned back to confront 
the man, but he had gone out the door.  She turned her attention back 
to Mulder.

"Lay still.  It's okay.  He's a scum, Mulder.  Don't let him get to 
you."

She unfolded the blanket and laid it over him, tucking in one side 
under the mattress, then walking around the bed to tuck in the other 
side.

"What he said is the truth, Scully."

She raised an eyebrow.  "Are you insulting me?"

"What?"

"I have a high intelligence.  So does Skinner and three-quarters of 
the FBI.  We're not perverts, and neither are you.  He lashed out at 
you because of jealousy, and your intelligence was the only target he 
had.  I'm filing a complaint.  He had no right to say any of those 
things."

"Forget it.  It's not worth it."

"He can't treat you that way!  Mulder, you're so far above him--"

"Scully, *he's* not the one accused of rape and assault!" he shouted 
back at her.

Suddenly Mulder gasped and stiffened, his body going rigid against the 
pillows as his eyes closed.  Scully saw his face pale immediately.

"Partner ...?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

She grabbed the bedpan just as he leaned over, retching, but there was 
nothing in his stomach but fluids.  As Mulder spit into the basin, 
Scully saw a little blood.  She put her hand on the back of his neck, 
rubbing gently, trying to calm him down as his stomach tried to empty 
of whatever drugs were left.  Scully leaned over quickly and punched 
the call button for the nurse.  Mulder's breathing increased as he 
laid his head against Scully's chest.  Supportively, her arm went 
around him.  Seeing that he had control of the vomiting, she set the 
pan down and laid her hand on top of his head.

"Sorry about that," Mulder whispered.

"Hey, don't be.  I'm glad I was here.  Take deep breaths and just lay 
against me for a minute."

He quietly did as she suggested.  The door opened and Scully turned to 
the nurse.  "Can you get a wet cloth and a 7-Up?"

The nurse nodded, knowing immediately what just transpired, and 
knowing this patient's partner had control of the situation.  Scully 
laid her chin on Mulder's head and felt his good hand fall upon her 
upper thigh.  He rested quietly against her, his body aching and his 
stomach cramping.  He became aware of a cool cloth pressed against his 
cheeks and forehead.  He heard mumbling, Scully and the nurse 
obviously talking, but he didn't use the energy to concentrate on what 
they were saying.  A cup was placed to his lips and he heard another 
voice, not Scully's.

"Mr. Mulder, take a sip to wash your mouth out."

He obeyed the voice, opening his eyes and spitting once again into the 
basin. Then he heard Scully's voice, soft, at his ear.  

"Partner, drink some of this 7-Up.  The nurse is going to give you a 
shot for the nausea, but it'll take a few minutes to work.  Come on."

He drank out of the cup that Scully held to his lips.  As she laid him 
back against the pillow, he winced.  Gently she soothed his face with 
the damp cloth.

"Just relax.  It'll be okay," she whispered, running her fingers back 
through his hair.

"Scully, you don't have to be here."

His remark surprised her, but she knew that he wasn't just referring 
to this moment.

"You're here.  Where else would I be," she answered matter-of-factly.

"You don't deserve this.  I know how much this hurts you."

"Mulder --"

"I know how you feel about me, Scully.  If this were reversed, I'd be 
dying inside.  I can't stand doing this to you."

"Mulder, please stop.  We've been through all this."

The pressure and now the pain were becoming too much.  The reality of 
the situation was breaking him down once again.  

She leaned even closer to him.  "Honey, don't do this to yourself.  I 
made a terrible mistake.  Skinner and I both did.  We looked at the 
evidence instead of the man.  It's *you* who need to forgive *us*.  
You didn't do this thing you're accused of."

"How do you know?" he asked, doubtful of her words.

"I know it in my heart, and in my soul.  Mulder, you've always told me 
to look between the lines, to go beyond the evidence, to see what 
isn't there.  This time, because I believe in you, I have.  And now I 
see the truth. I see you."

Mulder looked deep into her eyes, searching for the full meaning of 
her words.  It was all reflected there for him to see.  He saw her 
eyes fill with tears as she continued to soothe him with her words.

"We almost pushed you over the edge, and that's something I may never 
forgive myself for.  I know how your trust in me faltered.  And 
Mulder, I am sick with regret," she admitted, her voice cracking.

He raised a weak arm and touched her cheek.  His eyes closed briefly 
and when she saw a tear slide from under his lashes, it almost broke 
her heart. He opened his eyes to meet hers.  

"Scully, I'm so scared."

"They won't beat us.  There are too many people on your side.  This 
has brought your allies to the forefront.  And not one believes you 
could have done this.  Have faith in us."

She saw a faint smile tug at his mouth, and she laid her lips against 
his forehead.  "Close your eyes and sleep.  I'll be right here."

He wasn't even aware, several minutes later, of the nurse returning to 
insert a hypodermic of medication into his IV.

*   *   *

Mulder slept most of the rest of the day.  When he did wake, he seemed 
to only be cognizant of the fact that Scully was with him.  That 
reassurance allowed him to go back to sleep.  Later in the evening, 
Skinner threatened to suspend her without pay if she didn't go home 
and get some sleep.  She knew he had no authority to do that, but he'd 
made his point.  

Although Skinner agreed to fill in, Scully called her mother, who had 
been hoping for the invitation to help out.  Maggie Scully sat for 
several hours with Mulder, twice having to quiet his confusion when he 
woke and was too disoriented to know who was with him.  Upon realizing 
it was Scully's mother, he immediately relaxed, allowing her to slip 
her fingers around his good hand.  He remembered her whispering to him 
-- so much like his partner that he was able to drift asleep for the 
rest of the night.

*   *   *


8:55 a.m.
MULDER'S OFFICE

Scully was working on Mulder's computer when she looked up to see 
Skinner enter the room, closing the door behind him.

"I thought you were at the hospital," he said, sitting across from 
her.

"I was.  Mulder's with his attorney right now.  They're going over the 
questions he might be asked on the polygraph."

Skinner sighed heavily.  "We did the right thing.  He can only answer 
truthfully."

"Which means no answers at all."

"He has none, Scully.  He was drugged and unconscious.  And that's 
exactly how he needs to answer ... for now."

"So when exactly do we tell him what we've learned.  When is it safe?"

"We may need to talk to Mulder's contact again, but I don't know how 
to reach him."

Scully hesitated, being scrutinized by Skinner.  He knew she had 
probably had another sleepless night.

"I do.  I know how to contact him."

Skinner only nodded.  Then his expression turned grim.

"I talked to the D.A.  The wheels are in motion to have Mulder 
returned to jail after the polygraph."

"No ..." she croaked.

"Two reasons.  One, that this lapse in memory could lead to a physical 
fugue."

"Running away?" she asked, astonished.

"It's an *excuse*, Scully.  We went through the reasons last night."

"I know!" she shouted, startling Skinner as she stood up, shoving her 
chair hard against the wall.  "But having to keep this from him when 
he's being torn up inside --  sir, he's sick.  He should be in a 
hospital.  Not jail."

"Scully --"

"You haven't seen him at his worst, sir.  He hasn't broken down in 
front of you.  He's not just scared.  He's terrified.  He's afraid his 
demons have found form.  And all I can do is sit there and try to 
reassure him with words that he must have faith!  With what he knows, 
*I'd* doubt myself, too!"

"What choice do we have!  Are you willing to put his life in jeopardy 
simply to reassure him!  We can undo what we've done, but we can't 
bring him back if they kill him!  Think hard about that, Agent 
Scully!"

His words sunk in, the very thoughts she herself had, but wished could 
be different.  Sinking back into the chair, she put her elbows up on 
the desk and buried her face in her hands.  Skinner felt like a shit. 
 How many times can these two fight back against the greater 
conspiracy, he thought.  He knew Mulder treasured his partner more 
than life itself, but it was a double-edged sword.  While 
strengthening him in countless ways, Scully's presence as his partner 
gave the opposition leverage against him.  They knew, where she was 
concerned, he would compromise.

Skinner watched Scully's silent, unmoving form for a moment.  Her aura 
radiated with torment.  But she was watching him as well, and when she 
saw him flex his left hand into a tight fist, then stretch his 
fingers, she recognized the nervous gesture as his way of releasing 
tension.  And he usually did that just before he broke some bad news.

Scully's voice was clipped.  "You said there were two reasons why he's 
going back to jail.  What's the second reason?"

Skinner's face fell and his posture was one that Scully was all too 
familiar with -- like someone had dealt him tragic news and it was his 
turn to pass it on.  She waited for the blow, watching him briefly 
turn inward as if drawing on a stored reserve of strength.

"I don't know how to tell you this."  Skinner's purpose in hesitating 
was not so much to prepare Scully, as to prepare himself.  He saw the 
anxiety in her brilliant blue eyes, but he saw a familiar 
determination there, also. 

"Scully, the semen specimen taken from the girl is missing."

Scully blanched and her fists involuntarily clenched.  "WHAT!  What do 
you mean *missing*!"

"It's gone.  It was taken from the refrigerator in the evidence room 
two days ago.  They discovered it missing when they went to transfer 
it to the lab.  The police were afraid to tell me, hoping it had just 
been misplaced and they'd find it."

Skinner watched as Agent Dana Scully reacted in an emotional outburst 
much like he had seen exhibited by her frustrated partner at times.  
She grabbed the first object in front of her on the desk, which 
happened to be a heavy stapler, and threw it with so much force that 
it broke into pieces upon hitting the wall, leaving a good-sized dent 
in the plaster.

"GOD-DAMMIT!" 

She shot out of her chair, looking for something else to throw and 
Skinner quickly was in front of her, firmly grabbing her shoulder.  
But he said nothing, knowing she needed to vent the emotions that had 
been building inside her like a geyser, ready to explode from the 
pressure.

Her voice shook with rage.  "Is there no security anywhere!  Why the 
hell even lock the doors!  Let's just give them keys!  Or better 
still, let's just hand everything over and save them the trouble of 
stealing it!  GOD-DAMMIT, sir.  Where does this ever end!"

"Scully --"

"FUCK!  FUCK!  FUCK!" she screamed.

Skinner knew there was a side to Scully that came out only under 
extreme circumstances.  Her partner had attested to that.  But Skinner 
was seeing it first-hand.  His grip tightened on her arm.

"Dana . . ."

She made eye contact with him, but her furor was still on the loose.

"How can a case be made against my partner when witnesses disappear, 
evidence is missing!  Doesn't that look just a LITTLE BIT FUCKED, 
sir!"

He tried to reply, but Scully wasn't really asking for an answer.

"Those bastards just stomp on our lives like we're ants under their 
feet!  Where's the justice in the world!  When is it our turn to win!"

Skinner leaned into her.  "Hey," he said softly.

Somehow his soft but deliberate voice and his strong compassion calmed 
her.  She sank down on the corner of the desk, shaking her head.  

"How does Mulder do it?  How does he keep bouncing back?"

"Because he has you," he said bluntly.

She bowed her head, taking the moment he was giving her to regain her 
balance.  When she looked up, Skinner was faced with that too-familiar 
look of battle fatigue.  He was surprised, but said nothing when 
Scully absently reached over and ran her fingers down the front of his 
tie, a gesture of habit that signified how much she missed her 
partner.

"Sir, does this change what we tell Mulder?"

"No.  But we don't tell him about the missing specimen.  Not yet."

"Why?  If what Mr. X said is true and the semen doesn't match Mulder's 
blood type, then the only way to prevent him from being cleared is to 
steal the specimen."

"You and I know that to be true, as does Mulder.  All this time we 
thought this set up was a long shot to break you two up.  We should 
have known it goes much deeper than that.  From the beginning they had 
an accomplice who had access to the evidence room.  But the police are 
ignorant of any global conspiracy, Scully.  They could just as easily 
point the finger at Mulder, a federal agent with countless inside men, 
who had everything to lose if the specimen matched."

"They cover all the bases, don't they?" she snapped.  "Right now all I 
care about is letting my partner know that he's innocent.  I think 
he'll believe Mr. X."

"How can you be sure?"

She paused, a smile of sad reminiscence on her lips.  "Light from 
shadows," she said softly.

Skinner frowned.  "What?"

"It's what Mulder calls it when he stumbles onto something in a place 
he didn't expect to find it.  Light from shadows."

Skinner thought about it.  He nodded, agreeing with the contradiction 
in terms.

"It's time for the truth, sir," Scully said bluntly.

"Then we'll tell Mulder tonight. No matter what. We'll tell him the 
truth tonight."

She looked up, relief spreading across her face and saw Skinner smile 
and nod.  He leaned one hand on the table and, surprising her, reached 
over and placed the back of his fingers against her silky hair, barely 
touching the reddish-gold strands.  

"Mulder belongs to us, Scully.  They can't have him."

With that said, he turned and walked out of the office.

*   *   *

1:30 p.m.
BETHESDA HOSPITAL

The storm had not let up all day.  Where the snow slacked off, the 
wind picked up, and vice versa.  Mulder had spent all morning with his 
attorney, then the man left to prepare for their meeting later at the 
State Attorney's Office.  Scully had not talked with him yet.  She 
checked with his doctor, confirming that although the physician 
disagreed with releasing him so soon, he was scheduled to leave at 
2:00.  Scully had assured Skinner that she could handle him by herself 
after he offered to help.  But deep down both agents knew that it 
would be better off for Mulder if Skinner kept a low profile. 

Scully started to enter Mulder's room when a nurse called out to her.

"Ma'am, you might want to wait.  A nurse is helping your partner get 
dressed."

Scully never broke stride.  She didn't give a damn what anybody 
thought about her walking in on her half-dressed partner, as she 
pushed open the door to his room and boldly entered.  The nurse had 
just eased off his hospital gown and Mulder sat on the edge of the bed 
in just his underwear.  Surprised, they both looked up as the door 
swung open.  Scully didn't catch the expression on the nurse's face; 
she was too concerned with seeing her partner.  His relief was 
immediately apparent.  She quickly walked to his side and before the 
nurse could reply, Scully took Mulder's suit from her.

"I'll take over.  Thanks for your help," she said, laying the suit on 
the bed.

The young nurse looked a little confused, or maybe it was 
disappointment, but the expression on her patient's face assured her 
of who he wanted in the room with him.  Scully waited until the nurse 
left before she kissed Mulder on the cheek.

"How you doing, partner?"

As she said that, she bent to examine the bruises more closely.  They 
looked even nastier than the day before.

"Oh, Mulder ..."

She looked up into his eyes and saw his weariness.  But he managed a 
weak smile.

"I'm glad to see you," he whispered.

There was a long moment of silent contemplation between the two 
partners.  Then Scully gently put her hands behind Mulder's neck, 
bringing her cheek next to his.  He felt her hand comb through his 
hair and he closed his eyes, enjoying her soft touch.  She heard a 
contented sigh from him, and she held still for as long as he needed. 
 Then she felt his hand on the back of her neck and he whispered her 
name.  In that brief span of time, she imagined what he was about to 
go through and the strength he would need.  

As she held him, she said to herself, <This is the man who would die 
for me, whom I know better than any other in all the world.  Oh god>, 
she thought with heartache, <how could this be happening to him?>

Scully pulled her cheek away slightly, and instantly her lips went to 
his, kissing him deeply.  He stiffened in surprise, then sagged with 
relief as his hand tightened behind her neck, holding her mouth to his 
little longer.  When their lips finally parted, Scully pulled his head 
into her neck and her arms went around him.

"Stay strong, honey.  We'll beat this."

Nothing was said while they held each other a little longer.  Then 
Scully, her voice strong, put her hands on his shoulders and pushed 
him back a little.

"Let's finish getting you dressed."

She picked up his tee shirt, finding that it was extremely painful for 
him to lift his arms.  It was all he could do to keep from doubling 
over as she finally got the shirt on.  Both her hands went on his 
shoulders as he leaned into her.

"Take it slow, partner.  Can you stand up?"

Gingerly he eased off the bed.  She helped him get into his pants, 
then took his dress shirt off the hanger. He was extremely limited 
with the casted arm, so she buttoned the shirt for him, leaving the 
left sleeve cuff open over the cast, then began tucking the shirt into 
his pants.  She hoped he was aware enough of what she was doing to 
throw her his usual innuendo.  He didn't disappoint her.

"Scully, can you tuck my shirt in a little farther down in my pants?"

"If I do that, I may have trouble zipping them up," she said coolly, 
keeping her eyes on the task.

"Scully!" he remarked with quiet emphasis.

She smiled at his surprise, then zipped up his slacks and fastened his 
belt.  She took the tie off the hanger and started to put it around 
his neck when she felt him sway.  Gently she eased him back on the 
bed.

"Sit down.  Let me do this."

Mulder bent his head down and tried to stifle a gasp.  Scully knew 
they had taken him off the pain medication because of the polygraph.  
Silently she cursed them.  She got his shoes and socks out of the 
closet and put them on him, then stood in front of him to put his tie 
on him.

"You're pretty good at this dressing thing," Mulder quipped.

"Well, you're a little easier than my squirming nephew."

She saw that he was trying hard to find any humor in her attempts to 
relax him.

"Hey," she said, trying to lighten his mood with her voice inflection. 
He looked up at her.  "Is this domestic or what?"

She got a smile out of him.  "Where'd my suit come from?" he asked.

"I got it from the cleaners.  Remember the message on your answering 
machine? Then I went to your apartment for the rest of your clothes."

"Did you feed my fish while you were there?"

She nodded.  "Who shaved you?" she asked, feeling his soft cheek.

"A nurse-in-training."

"Oh ..." Scully said, trying to sound jealous, having seen some of the 
young female students around the hospital.

"Yeah, a real babe.  But kind of a late bloomer as nurses' aides go.  
She told me her youngest *grandson* just started shaving."

She laughed out loud, still amazed that his sense of humor could be 
intact.

"Ready, partner?"

It was a loaded question.  He chose not to answer, but stood slowly 
with her help instead.  The nurse appeared with a wheelchair and 
Mulder immediately started shaking his head.

"No."

"Mr. Mulder, we have rules -"

"Yes, and I could probably recite them to you word for word.  But I've 
got a lot of walking to do, so I better start trying to get some 
strength back."

Scully nodded to her that it was all right, then she and Mulder 
started out of the room.

He waited for her in the lobby entrance while she brought the car 
around.  By the time he was fastened in the seatbelt, Scully could see 
the toll it had already taken on him.

"Damn them!  You shouldn't be doing this.  I'm calling Skinner."

Mulder quickly took hold of her hand as she picked up her cell phone.

"Scully, let's get this over with.  I can't drag this on."

She understood, even better than he did.  They drove in silence.  Just 
as they rounded the corner from the station, her phone rang.

"Scully... yes, sir, we're about a block away."

Mulder, knowing who it was, didn't look at her so he missed her glance 
at him.

"Agent Mulder is ... not well, sir.  This is an insane idea."

When Skinner reminded Scully that the polygraph was the only thing 
standing in the way of telling Mulder the truth, she then became 
anxious to get it over with.

"Yes, sir, you're right... We're almost there."

She hung up.

"Scully, pull over a minute."

Alarmed, she looked over at him, but he remained calm.

"Just pull over, okay? he said more calmly.

She pulled into a parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to 
look at him.  She waited patiently as he watched wet snowflakes 
splatter on the windshield.  When he looked at her, she noticed again 
how pale he was.

"Scully, I don't want you there, I don't want you on the other side of 
the glass."

"Mulder ..."

"I don't want to have to think about you hearing my answers every time 
I'm asked a question.  Please."

"All right.  But I know Skinner will be watching.  As your Director, 
he's required to."

"I realize that."

She saw him holding tenuously to a thread of sanity as he struggled 
not to be overcome.  She took his good hand and kissed his fingers.  

"Don't lie to yourself, Mulder.  Tell them the truth, that you don't 
remember."

"Scully, I'm not scared of the questions they're going to ask about 
the assault.  I'm scared of what they'll ask me about us."

"We haven't done anything wrong."

"No, but as you well know, simply answering yes or no can be very 
misleading."

"You'll have a chance to expand on your answers later.  Just get it 
over with as quickly as possible."

"Then what?  Do I go back to the hospital."

"We'll see how you're doing," she said, avoiding an answer.  "Come on, 
Skinner's waiting for us.  We're going to talk for a few minutes 
before your attorney comes to get you."

He sensed she wasn't telling him something, but his pain was 
increasing, and he didn't feel up to asking any more questions.  He 
simply nodded and turned to look out the window.

Skinner came down the steps when he saw Scully's car pull up out 
front.  He opened the door for Mulder and took an arm, helping him out 
as Scully went to park the car.  Although Mulder quickly shunned the 
assistance,  Skinner felt him trembling.  He stayed close by the young 
agent, ready to help.  

Mulder carefully climbed two ice-covered steps before reaching for 
Skinner's arm to brace himself.  The Director heard his soft gasp with 
every step that he made.  If he had had any idea Mulder was in such 
bad shape, he would have pulled strings to get this appointment 
delayed.  Skinner was silent, not wanting his words to make Mulder 
feel any more self conscious about his situation.

Scully entered the lobby and took the elevator to the second floor, 
finding Skinner pacing in the hallway.  She frowned as they advanced 
toward each other.

"Mulder's in the restroom throwing up," Skinner explained softly.

Scully glanced at the closed door, her face registering concern.  No 
words were spoken between the two of them.  Scully saw her boss 
glancing toward the door every few seconds, knowing he wanted to go in 
and help, but realizing that Mulder would be uncomfortable being seen 
that way.  A few minutes later, Mulder walked out, unsteady, and both 
agents helped him to a chair.  Not even Mulder could mask his 
condition.  He was white as a sheet and his skin was clammy when 
Scully took his pulse.  

She bent down in front of him.  "Mulder, take slow breaths."

Suddenly enraged, Scully looked up at Skinner, whispering vehemently, 
"He can't do this!"

They were both surprised to hear Mulder's hoarse voice, "Yes, I can."

Scully looked squarely into Skinner's eyes.  "He needs to get back to 
the hospital after this is over.  Are you hearing me ...sir?"

"Yes.  I couldn't agree more."

They realized someone was approaching from down the hall, and they 
looked up to see Mulder's attorney.  He looked closely at Mulder.  

"God, you look awful.  We should have put this off.  I can go in there 
and demand they re-schedule."

"No," Mulder answered, "let's do it."

Seeing that he was trying to stand, Skinner again helped him, and his 
attorney also reached to support him.  Mulder instantly turned to 
Scully and took both her hands.  She felt the warmth radiating from 
them, a symptom of fever.  Skinner discreetly looked away.  

She smiled confidently at him.  "I'll be waiting right here.  
Remember, stay strong."

He nodded, his eyes dilated from the pain.  Then she watched her 
partner walk gingerly down the hallway between Skinner and the 
attorney.

Mulder sat quietly, almost in a trance as the electrodes were hooked 
to his fingers and around his chest.  He was vaguely aware of the 
prosecutor and an armed deputy standing a discreet distance from him, 
next to the door. His attorney sat next to him and the polygraph 
operator took the chair opposite Mulder, where he then ran a length of 
paper through the machine.  Mulder glanced up at the one-way glass 
directly behind the operator and knew Skinner would be observing.  He 
trusted Scully, knowing she would honor his request and not be 
present.   Mulder didn't realize he had closed his eyes until the 
operator spoke to him.

"Mr. Mulder ...?"

"Yes," he said, looking up.

"Are you ready?"

He nodded.