Subject: New: Far Away Nearby
Date: 6 Jun 1995

This story contains characters copyrighted 1993 by Chris Carter and
TenThirteen Productions. No copyright infringement intended, none should
be inferred. The story however, is copyrighted 1995 by the author who
reserves any rights she may have. (Including the right to remain silent...)

Note: I have e-mail now; thanks to those who sent replies to FEVER
DREAM, I just got them today.

Here we go...

THE FAR AWAY NEARBY by Jessica Archibald

He was waiting for his target by the Potomac. The evening was
still chilly for May and his topcoat was buttoned all the way up, drawn
tight against the invading cold of the Washington night. There was a
faint breeze coming off the river, adding to the frostiness of the
evening. He kept himself warm with thoughts of his job.
He loved his job.
Of course, not many people knew exactly what it was that he did
for a living, but he still liked his job. *That's* what was important.
The target approached from across the park land, long legs
covering the distance to the river in quick strides, a rolled up
newspaper in one hand.
Good. No need to plant the phony evidence he had with him then.
There was a couple necking over at one of the benches. It was a
good thing there wa a silencer on the pistol. Too bad he couldn't use
his *other* talents on the target, but that would be too obvious for
some. He'd have to rough it this time.
The target was a few feet away now, looking around for someone,
hand bunching up the paper in frustration. Time to make his move.
He went forward, passed in front of the target, pulled the weapon
from his pocket and squeezed the trigger. There was a small sound like
air whizzing through a tube and the target went down.
"Hey," said one half of the couple on the bench, hearing the
thump of the falling body.
Damn. Time to go.
he fled the scene on foot, trusting in his aim to have done its job.
It was his only mistake.


The outside doors leading into the E.R. went flying open just
ahead of the paramedics and the gurney they wheeled in. Two doctors met
them at the entrance and the procession made its way down the hall.
"White male, gunshot wound to the chest," called out one of the
'medics with trained efficiency. "Puncture of left lung, possible damage
to the heart. Witness sealed the wound and called for help."
"Vitals?" snapped one of the doctors, eyeing the pale face of the
man before them.
"Blood pressure and heart rate both falling. We nearly lost the
pulse twice on the way in."
"Any ID?"
"Wallet was found with the victim. He's a federal agent..."


Melissa Scully sensed the change in her sister's aura the moment
Dana answered the phone. The lighthearted atmosphere that had permeated
most of the evening vanished and Melissa sat up straight in her chair,
listening intently to the one side of the conversation. Before the first
words were out of dana's mouth, Melissa already could feel that something
was wrong.
"Sir?" Dana asked, posture going stiff and formal, an inbred
response to an authority figure or even the voice of one. Then she
sagged back onto the sofa, eyes widening and flitting over to her
sister. ", sir, I have no idea what...yes, sir, right away."
She hung up, her hand fumbling a couple of times before hitting the cradle.
"I've got to get to Washington Memorial...what the hell was he
*doing* for God's sake?" There was suppressed panic in her voice.
"What's going on?" The younger redhead got to her feet,
following Dana to the door. "I'll go with you."
She nodded. "I'll explain on the way..."


Neither one of the Scullys noticed the gray Saturn that followed
them from Dana's building.


Fox Mulder watched the sisters come into the waiting room from
his position by the door. He couldn't really remember how he had gotten
there and was more than happy to see not one but two friendly faces. He
wasn't sure if he should count Assistant Director Walter Skinner who had
been pacing the room for as long as Mulder could recall, ignoring the
other man.
"Hey, Scully," he greeted, going over to join the three. "What's
going on?"
She ignored him.
"Sir, what happened?" Her voice was trembling and she looked unsteady.
"Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder asked immediately, concerned,
reaching out to touch her shoulder.
She shivered.
"We're not exactly sure yet, Scully," Skinner said. "We've got
two agents at the scene now. It looks like a professional job..."
"Hello?" Mulder waved his hand if front of first Scully then
Skinner. Neither one of them reacted.
Melissa jumped slightly, eyes darting back and forth.
"Is he..." Scully's words were lost behind a desperate look.
"He's still alive," Skinner reassured her. "But it doesn't look good."
"Dammit, what was Mulder doing out there?"
"Me? What...will *someone* please say *something* to me."
Mulder was getting seriously annoyed. First Skinner ignores him, fine.
That happened a lot. But now Scully was disregarding him too, looking
like she wanted to cry and no one was even *glancing* at him.
Except Melissa.
"Melissa?" he tried, feeling a little bit desperate himself now.
"Can you hear me?"
She didn't say anything, but her darting gaze seemed to keep
coming back to rest on him.
"What the hell is going one here?" he wondered out loud.
"Mulder's still in surgery," Skinner was saying.
"No, I'm not," Mulder objected. "I'm right here. *Scully*, I'm
right here, dammit!"
<Man passing in front of him, momentarily blocking his view of
the Potomac...>
The image came to him unbidden.
<A hiss of air and then a heavy impact on his chest...>
The room began to spin.
<Fiery pain, the ground rushing up to meet him, a sense of
betrayal, the pain, darkness rushing in all around, the pain, a face
peering down at him, pain, pain, blackness...>
He staggered for a moment as the memoires came rushing back over
him. He'd been at the Potomac waiting for his contact, but there had
been another man...
"I was shot," he whispered, a giddy feeling rushing through him.
"I was *shot* but here I am in the waiting room. I'm having an out of
body experience." If things weren't so serious, he'd be tempted to
perform an impromptu dance, but the only dancing partners in the room
couldn't see him. "I was *right* about out of body experiences, Scully,"
he said, pointing an enthusiastic finger in her face, but she didn't see
it. Just last week they'd had an argument about the very same thing.
She had protested, citing the lack of evidence and he had challenged her
to prove conclusively that it was impossible. Near death experiences
she'd buy, but not out of body ones. She had made a very distinct
separation of the two, citing NDEs as something internal to the mind and
thus it was possible for a person to have one. OBEs she attributed to
hallicinations caused by extreme pain and trauma, claiming that the
hallucination could gradually transform into an NDE. He thought that
this time she was arguing just to annoy him. Sometimes she really drove
him up the wall. He'd love to see the look on her face if she saw him now...
Except she couldn't. No one could. And from the way Skinner
was talking no one might ever see him again. He wondered what it would
be like if he died. Would he stay like this forever or would he just
fade away?
"did anyone see the shooting?" Scully asked Skinner, eyes bright,
hands clenching and unclenching convulsively.
"There were two witnesses. One of them had had some medical
training. It's what saved his life. I left orders for both agents to
check in here when they are through at the scene."
"Why would someone do this?" Melissa asked quietly. Skinner
turned to her.
"And you are?"
"This is my sister Melissa," Scully replied automatically,
sinking slowly into a plastic chair.
Skinner nodded. "When we know why, Miss Scully, we'll know who."
"That's helpful," Mulder snorted, knowing now that the other man
couldn't hear him.
Melissa jumped again.
"Melissa? Can you *hear* me?" he tried again, this time with
more force. "Melissa?"


Something wasn't right about this. Melissa had felt an imbalance of
some kind in the waiting room with her, ever since she and Dana had
walked in. Hospitals always had an aura of death around them, but this
was different. It was like the time she had stood watch over Dana...she
could sense a presence, but it wasn't as strong as her sister's had
been. It was as if it was reaching out across a vast gulf to call to
her. The words were indistinct but she could definitely feel the
presence and identify it.
"Fox!" she exclaimed suddenly.
Dana and her boss turned to her.
"Melissa, what--"
"He's here, I can sense his presence." She turned slowly around,
a full three hundred and sixty degrees. "I know he is, he's trying to
reach out to us, but he can't."
"Melissa," Dana began, voice tight with pain, "please, don't do this."
Melissa looked at her, wanting her to listen and believe her.
"Dana, he *is* here."
Skinner looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, Dana just looked
The younger woman threw up her hands, knowing it was useless to
argue. Both of them were equally stubborn and their arguments usually
ended in a draw.
Skinner tried to release some of the tension. "He'll be in
surgery for a while, Scully. I know that you won't want to leave until
he's out of it. Why don't you and your sister sit down and I'll go get
some coffee?"
Dana nodded, already seated. "Yes, sir."


Mulder watched Skinner disappear down the hall and then took the
seat next to Scully while Melissa sat on her other side. "Better enjoy
having Skinner play gofer while you can, Scully." His initial elation at
his situation had long since faded. Melissa could sense him, but not see
or hear him. He was frustrated because everyone was so worried about him
and he was right there. He wanted to reassure them that he was all least *part* of him was anyway.
"What was he doing out there?" Scully asked softly.
"Could it have anything to do with a case you were working on?"
"No, Melissa, we'd just finished a case and were catching up on
our paperwork...the Potomac..."
"Dana?" Her sister peered intently at her.
Mulder looked at her in concern too. "Scully, you okay?" <She
can't hear you, you idiot.>
"When the X-Files division was shut down, we'd meet down
there...dammit, that's it! I'll bet he was supposed to meet someone down
there...and I have a damned good idea who it was too."
"Who?" Melissa demanded.
"Not here, not now."
"It was Mr. X," Mulder suppled helpfullly, not that anyone
acknowledged him. "But he didn't shoot me, he wasn't even there."
Scully frowned in thought. "But it doesn't make any sense, unless..."
"Unless what?" Melissa and Mulder chorused.
Scully waved Melissa off. "Let me thing about this."
"You do that," Mulder said, patting her hand. She shivered
again. <Interesting, I can touch her and she *does* feel *something*.>
He decided to try something else. Reaching for a magazine strewn on a
nearby chair, he intended to lift it up, but found he couldn't. It
seemed to weigh an infinite amount. He couldn't even get a page to
turn. <So much for that idea. This is really weird. I can touch things
but I can't affect them. If someone walked into me, I'd probably get
knocked on my rear and they wouldn't feel much of anything.> He felt
fine in a physical sense. His chest didn't hurt or anything like that.
A sudden sick urge struck him. "Don't go away, now, ladies. I'll be
right back."
Neither one of them noticed him leave.


Dana couldn't believe this was happening. Skinner had called her
and told her that Mulder had been gunned down by the Potomac. Now, no
one could tell her if he'd make it or not. She felt physically ill at
the thought that he might die. A couple of times in the waiting room,
she had felt like something had touched her lightly, sending a chill down
her back. With Melissa insisting that Mulder's presence was in the room,
a tiny part of her wondered if it had been him coming into contact with
her. The more rational part of her dismissed it as a childish notion.
<Dammit, Mulder, what happened? Who did this to you?> she
thought sadly, watching Skinner come back with three cups of coffee
balanced percariously in his hands. Melissa leapt up to help him, taking
two of the cups and handing one to Dana. She took it with an automatic
reflex and set it aside.
"Are you all right, Scully?" Skinner asked with a kind of rough
"Yes, sir. I'm just trying to figure out what happened to him."
She already had a good notion as to what had happened, but was unwilling
to share her thoughts quite yet. <He could be in surgery for hours, *if*
he makes it at all. Dammit, I want whoever did this to him.> A fierce
anger had been boiling underneath her fears and worries and she had to
fight to keep it in check. "Sir, was there anything found at the scene
I should know about?"
He looked over at her. "There was a newspaper that Mulder had
been carrying. That was it. Part of it was circled in red, an ad for an
exterminator actually."
<An exterminator? What's that got to do with anything Mulder
would be interested in?>
"And the suspect?"
"The witnesses didn't get a good look at him, other to say that
it was male. He was wearing a dark trenchcoat."
"Too dark to tell conclusively. You don't think..." The words
didn't have to be spoken. Skinner knew only too well about Mulder's
mysterious contact, having had it out with the man in an elevator on an
occasion that Dana was desperately sorry she had missed seeing.
"Maybe. Mulder did meet his -- sources -- there from time to
time." From what he had told her though, it was Deep Throat who met him
there, not Mr. X. This new informant didn't seem the type to risk being
seen like that. And trying to kill Mulder didn't make much snse unless...
Unless Mr. X had gotten tired of using Mulder and then finding
his puppet had control over his own strings. That was a distinct
possibility. The only problem with that was he would have to know that
he would be the logical suspect in the shooting under the circumstances.
She left sick to her stomach as she eyed the vile hospital
decor, and she pushed the coffee cup aside. "This isn't getting us
anywhere." Standing up, she motioned for Melissa to stay where she was.
"I'll be right back."
There was a washroom just down the hall and around the corner,
past the entrance to a stairwell. She went in, locking the door behind
her. Nausea reared its head again and she threw up into the toilet.
When she was finished, she rinsed her mouth and let the emotional tidal
wave crest. Perching uncomfortably on the edge of the sink, she allowed
the hot tears to come.
Mulder was lying in some surgical theater with a bullet in his
chest because God only knew who had shot him. Her best friend might die
and there was nothing she could do right now to help him. She might be a
doctor, but she couldn't be the one in there performing the surgery. All
she could do was wait and pray, and it was the hardest thing anyone could
ever aske her to do. She wrapped her arms around herself and let the
tears fall. She didn't want to cry in front of Skinner, but she wasn't
going to let herself shut down emotionally. Mulder was forever warning
her against that, and it was funny coming from a man who hid everything
so well.
<I swear, Mulder, I'll find whoever did this.> The anger inside
her welled and she curled her hands into fists, feeling her nails press
deeply into her palms. Irrational vengeance wasn't her style but in this
case she was more than willing to give it a go. She felt another cold chill.
When the emotional tempest seemed to have past for the moment,
she splashed cold water on her face. Eyeing her reflection, she
acknowledged the fact that a well trained observer like Skinner would
have no trouble telling that she'd been crying. The red eyes were a dead
give away. She didn't care right now. She didn't care about anything
except Mulder.
Leaving the washroom, she started back to the waiting room. She
never made it to the corner.




From: (Jessica Lynn Archibald)
Subject: FAR AWAY NEARBY 2/4
Date: 9 Jun 1995 06:00:58 GMT

Here's part two to this little adventure and thanks for all the feedback,
guys. I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I am.

Whoops! I gave the wrong e-mail address last time so here's the correct

Story contains characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and TenThirteen
Productions. I mean no harm and the story is all mine, copyrighted


Mulder's sick urge had taken him to the operating rooms. He
found his way blocked by various obstacles, such as doors, and he finally
discovered if he thought hard enough about being somewhere, voila, there
he was. It took a fair bit of effort and left him lightheaded for a moment.
<Aside from that and the fact I can't touch anything, I would
make one hell of a burglar.>
Finally he found what he was looking for by thinking about his
corporeal form.
Inside the room, two surgeons were labouring over his physical
body, trying to repair the damage done by the bullet. He wandered over
and had the perverse pleasure of actually seeing his heart laid open to
the world at large.
He suddenly remembered why he made it a policy not to stay in the
room if Scully was performing an autopsy.
<This wasn't such a good idea...>
He decided to leave before he saw something that he *really*
didn't want to. On his way out, he glanced over at the heart monitor and
winced. Things weren't looking too good for the home team.
Deciding to go back to the waiting room, he formed a mental imgae
of it, but found that his attention wandered to his partner and instead
of appearing in a disgustingly neutral hospital room, he materialized
inside a tiny washroom.
<Oh, jeez,> he thought, trying to fixate on another image. <I'm
glad she can't see me, or I'd be a dead man. I *still* might be a dead
After a brief instant, he realized that Scully was crying
quietly, looking rather pitiful, folded in on herself and clenching her
fists. He didn't have to stretch his imagination very far to figure out
what was probably running through her head.
"C'mon, Scully, don't start this now. I'm not dead *yet*." He
reached out and touched her shoulder again. Tears were forming in his
own eyes and when they fell, they dissipated like fog before bright
sunshine, vanishing before they would ever have hit the ground. "I know
you're worried about me, but don't give up on me yet, Scully. Please,
Dana, don't give up..."
After a few minutes, she got herself under control and turned her
back on him to wash her face. He went with her when she left the room
and was just as surprised as she was when a hand snaked out of the
opening stairwell door and grabbed hold of her coat, yanking her through
before she had a chance to react. The door snapped shut before Mulder
could go after her, and it took him precious seconds to concentrate
enough on her to follow.
The hand belonged to a man who had her pressed hard against the
wall of the stairs, one hand holding her right arm away from her gun, the
other holding a .38 revolver to her head.
"Oh, hell," Mulder said out loud. "Hey, I thought you were on
*our* side. Kinda. Or maybe not. What day of the week is this?"
It was his mysterious contact, known unaffectionately as Mr. X.
"I didn't shoot Mulder," he was saying.
Scully glared at him. "Then why are you holding a gun on me? It
doesn't exactly argue for your innocence."
"I wouldn't want you to get carried away and shoot me by
accident, Agent Scully." He let go of her and stepped away, not *quite*
lowering his weapon.
She kept her hands clear of her 9mm. "If I shot you, it wouldn't
be an accident."
"Careful, Scully," Mulder warned ineffectually, but
passionately. "This isn't someone to mess with." He had moved
instinctively to stand between her and X, which was quite meaningless
really because they were carrying on their argument like he wasn't even
Which, to them, he wasn't.
"If you didn't shoot him, who did?" Scully demanded angrily.
"I think you know," X replied. "Suffice it to say, Agent Mulder
was not their only target." He looked drawn and tired, like a man who
Who had been on the run.
"They found out who you are," Mulder said. "Son of a bitch, they
found out who you are and they want to plug the leak!"
"They're after you, aren't they? The government?" Scully said,
obviously thinking something similar. "Dammit, they followed you to
Mulder!" She looked like she wanted to deck X.
"No," X snapped. "They already knew about Mulder. I tried to
warn him."
"The exterminator ad that was circled in the paper. You were
trying to tell him that they were after you. And him."
"You might want to watch your own back, Scully. They're aiming
for a clean sweep. They wanted you to think that I shot Mulder, to keep
us all separated while they hunted us down."
"Son of a bitch," Mulder said again, clenching his fists and
wanting to take his own swing at X. "You could have *called* for God's
sake. A little laxness in security hardly matters when they've already
figured out who you are."
"There's only two of them. They want to take care of this one
their own, make names for themselves," X explained. "If they bothered to
get in touch with their superiors, they would know that Mulder is
protected, at least from such a *direct* threat, at least for now."
"But you're not."
"Didn't the death of my predecessor teach you anything, Agent
Scully?" the man snarled at her. "Of course I'm not. And neither are
you! But you already know that don't you?"
Mulder was shaking with anger that he couldn't vent in a
satisfying manner. Scully grew angry as well, and she hid it only
marginally better.
"What are you telling me this for? You obviously want
something. You never gave Mulder something that didn't indirectly
benefit you, so you couldn't possibly be telling me this out of the
goodness of your heart." Her tone practically bathed all present in
contempt. "You led him around, you *used* him dammit, but I will *not*
allow myself to be used by you. Whatever you want, you can just forget
it." She brushed past X and began to open the door.
X raised the gun again.
"Scully, oh, SCULLY!" Mulder shouted.
"What if I tell you that they'll try again? Try to finish Mulder
off while he's still down."
She turned back, saw the gun. "How do I know that you aren't
here to do the job for them?"
"Mulder's too valuable."
"You mean he's too gullible."
Mulder looked at his partner, startled. "Hey, watch it, Scully.
I could tell Frohike where you live." The only good thing about his
predicament was that he could let his mouth have free reing because she
couldn't hear him. Otherwise, he'd wind up in traction.
X inclined his head slightly. "I'll admit that Mulder does
possess certain proclivities--"
"Which you exploit and twist around until they fit yours."
Mulder could count on one hand the number of times he had heard
Dana Scully this angry and still have room left over to name at least
half of teh seven dwarves. He was pleased to not that the rare occasions
when she *did* get this angry, the rage had never been directed at him.
Except for the time when he gotten a love, or rather a *lust* letter
Frohike had sent to her mixed in with a report he had handed to Skinner...
"I have never approved of the way you manipulate him--"
"Agent Scully, I don't five a damn if you approve or not. Right
now, I am offering you a chance to keep Mulder alive."
"You have to find these two men and eliminate them."
"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "You want me to kill them
for you? Forget it. I am a federal agent. I do *not* hunt down people
and kill them."
X shrugged, handed her a piece of paper which she refused to
take. It fluttered to the ground. "Then you'd better get used to the
thought of being dead by morning, because they'll be coming for you. And
your partner. I'm leaving town until their superiors track them down, or
they get dealt with. I don't think you have that option. Ask yourself
this, Scully. If positions were reversed, wouldn't Mulder be willing to
*bend* his morals a little to save you. I think he already has..." He
disappeared down the stairs.
"Dammit," she whispered, sinking down onto the stairs, sitting
down hard. "He has..."
"No, Scully, no I didn't," Mulder siad, sitting beside her. "He
offered me that same sort of chance he's giving you and I didn't take
it." He paused, looking first at his form, which no one else could see.
He thought about the body in surgery that would, in all honest, probably
die before the night was throuh. He looked at the woman beside him, who
was still alive and in one piece. He wanted her to stay that way. "Let
it go, Scully, get yourself out of this..."
She reached for the scrap of paper, and angrily Mulder swatted at it.
It quivered as if caught in a breeze.
"What the hell?" Mulder said in surprise.
Scully hadn't noticed anything and she picked up the paper.
"It moved, Scully! Did you see that? I got it to move." he
tried again, batting at the paper in her hand.
"Then how..." He frowned, trying to figure it out, peering over
her shoulder to look at the paper. It was an address for some warehouses
down by the docks. "Scully, he's using you, you know that."
She was silent, studying the paper, then looking up to the floor
above, where the O.R.s were. "I can't just sit here and wait, Mulder."
It took him a second to realize that she was not talking to him
exactly. "Scully, don't do it. If they're after me, they'll be coming
after you. Don't make it easier on them by walking right in." He was
pleading now, but she still couldn't hear him.
She stood and started down the stairs.
"At least tell Skinner," he argued, following her. "He'll send
more agents with you."
Of course she couldn't hear him and when she exited the stairs in
the lobby and headed for the door, her partner's spirit went with her.


Melissa was getting worried. Dana had been gone for a long time
now and when she went looking for her, her sister was no where to be
found. Walter Skinner had immediately gooten hospital security to help
in the search after having Dana paged repeatedly. There was no sign of
her anywhere in the hospital. Her car was gon from the visitor's parking
lot and no one had seen her leave.
"Where could she have gone?" Skinner asked, mostly to himself.
Melissa could tell what he was thinking by reading his aura. He was
worried about both of his agents, wondering if whoever shot Fox had
gotten to dana.
Melissa doubted it.
Closing her eyes as if she were tired, she leaned back in her
chair and tried to locate her sister. It wasn't something that always
worked, lord knows she had tried when Dana disappeared for those three
months, but it hadn't worked then. This time, she found her right away.
Dana's aura flared with anger, bordering on rage. Melissa
flinched when she sensed it and almost missed the second aura. But then
she caught it and recognized it as Fox's, bright with worry, fear, and
<Fox! But how?> She sent her mind on a quest to a location a
little closer to her present position, specifically, the O.R. and Fox's
body. There was no sense of him anywhere in the building. His spirit
was quite literally with Dana. <I hope you know what you are doing,
Fox. Getting separated from your body at such a distance could be
dangerous for you...>
The situation struck her as darkly amusing. This time it was Fox
who was trying to blanket Dana's raging emotions instead of the other
way around.
<Good luck to you both...>


In the operating room, the heart monitor suddenly emitted a
steady wailing.
"He's crashing!" yelled one of the nurses.
"Internal paddles," barked the surgeon. Two tiny paddles were
handed to him and he positioned them on either side of the exposed
heart. "Clear!"
A charge of electricity raced into Mulder's body, centering on
his heart.


Mulder felt a crushing pain building in his chest and he reached
for the dashboard of Scully's car to steady himself. As he reached, he
arm brushed the seatbelt and it *moved*. With a sense of wonder, he
tried again and instead he found himself back in the operating room,
watching the doctors and nurses struggle to save his body. He was unable
to do anything but clutch desperately at his chest and let out a cry of
mortal agaony that no one could hear...


Dana pulled up in front of the warehouse with a silent engine,
coasting in the last few feet. There were no visible windows and she
could see no light seeping out from under the door.
<What if he lied to me and this was a trick to get me away from
The idea sent a cold chill through her, but she got out of the
car and eased out her gun, disengaging the safety and heading towards the
warehouse. She didn't have much of a plan beyond trying to arrest the
two men who were supposedly after X, Mulder and her. That was going to
be the tricky part. She'd worry about what to charge them with later.
For right now, she just wanted to find and detain them. She didn't think
that Skinner would approve, so she had decided to leave him out of it.
<I think I'm beginning to see what Mulder likes about not telling
anyone what he's up to. There's no one to say 'no'.>
The door to the warehouse was unlocked and she slipped inside.
It was dark in the outer area, crates and metal shelving units
lining the walls and forming aisles of wooden boxes. Down the main aisle
she could see an office at the far reaches of the warehouse and there was
a light on.
She crept slowly forward.


In the waiting room, Melissa Scully let out a gasp as she felt
Fox's return and pain. Skinner turned towards her from where he was
barking orders into a pay phone, seinding agents out to look for Dana.
Melissa squeezed her eyes shut.
<Hold on, Fox, you've got to hold on.>


Outside the warehouse, the gray Saturn parked next to Scully's
car and a man got out, drawing a pistol with a silencer attachment. He
headed directly inside and began stalking the small figure in front of
him with deadly intent.


In the O.R. the heart monitor remained flat as the surgeon tried
again and this time was rewarded with a steay beep.
"Got 'im!" he crowed.
Mulder felt the pain ease and swayed with a rush of weakness that
sent him crashing to the floor. He felt like someone had just performed
open heart surgery on him...which was exactly what had happened.
<Scully,> he thought, shaking his head to clear it, glancing at
the monitors, seeing that he was all right for the moment. He had to get
back to her...


Dana was only a few feet away from the office now and she could
make out the figure of a man sitting at a desk, studying a file that was
laid out before him. Taking the last few steps at a quick pace, she
burst into the office with her gun held high.
"Federal agent! Don't move!"
Startled, the man jerked his head up and his eyes widened with
recognition and surprise.
<Am I supposed to be dead?> she wondered.
Catching a glimpse of the file on the desk, she saw photos of
her, Mulder, and X, as well as other pieces of paper. Looks like she had
her shooter.
"Place your hands where I can see them."


He looked at the woman in front of him with disbelief. The deal
was that he was to kill Mulder while his partner killed her and the
informant. She was supposed to have been the easiest one, no one would
have been particularily upset if she got wasted, her death lost in the
shuffle of the other two.
But here she was, obviously alive, holding a gun on him. This
would *not* do. He'd *have* to use his other abilities now or the whole
opportunity would be lost. And besides, what was the point of having
these powers if he didn't get to flaunt them once in a while.
Reaching out with his mind, he ripped the gun out of her hand,
twisting the metal with a mental shove as he did so.
She cried out in shock as the weapon was wrenched from her,
catching her finger in the trigger guard, hearing the bone snap.
With a look of utter disbelief on her face, she leapt back as the
ball of metal that had been her gun came arcing back down at her head,
aimed by an unseen force. She ducked but the metal was being controlled
by the speed of though and with another small cry, she went down as it
hit the side of her head with an audible crack and lay still.
His partner came running in, gun in hand.
"What the hell did you do that for?" he said midly.
"I did it because you didn't do your job. She's supposed to be
*dead* for God's sake, not walking into our office. Tell me you got the
other one, that he didn't lead her here."
His associate was silent.
"Dammit!" he yelped. "Can't you do anything right?"
"Oh, shut up, you didn't do such a hot job either."
"What are you talikng about?"
"Mulder's still alive. I followed her to Washington Memorial,
he's there right now, in surgery."
He sat down muttering curses. "This can't be happening." He
glared at the unconscious federal agent. "Get her the hell out of here,
kill her, take her out to the docks, dump the body. I'll go take care of
her damned partner and then we'll go find that traitor and eliminate
him." He shook a finger at his cohort. "Don't screw this up. We can
make names for ourselves if we pull this off."
Grabbing his jacket off the chair, he stormed out, aiming a kick
at the woman on his way out, not caring that he missed.




From: (Jessica Lynn Archibald)
Subject: FAR AWAY NEARBY 3/4
Date: 12 Jun 1995 05:22:45 GMT

Here's part three.

Characters copyright 1993 by CC and Tenthirteen Productions...the story
is all mine though!


Mulder managed to get back to Scully after ten minutes of waiting
for his figurative strength to return to what it had been. While he
waited, he watched the surgery with ghoulish interest and noted with some
relief that the doctors and nurses were starting to perk up enough to
tell bad jokes. he tried to add a comment here and there, mainly to
assure himself that he was still there, and even though no one could hear
him, he was beginning to think that he just might make it after all.
<Now if only Scully doesn't get herself killed, then we can call
it a day,> he thought and immediately he vanished from the O.R. and
reappeared inside a warehouse office.
He din't immediately see Scully, but caught a glimpse of a man
leaving the warehouse and then spied another over on the other side of
the room's desk. The second man was grumbling to himself, leaning over
something and as Mulder came around the desk, he finally saw his partner.
She was out cold on the floor, a nasty gash on her right temple
bleeding freely. On the ground next to her was a warped piece of metal
that bore a passing resemblance to the 9mm that was missing from her
holster and the silenced weapon that was currently being positioned just
above her ear.
<Oh God,> he thought with a sense of horror, realizing that Dana
Scully was about five seconds away from getting her head blown off by the
second man. And there was nothing Mulder could do...
Wait just a minute.
He *had* gotten things to move on two occasions: the scrap of
paper and the seatbelt in her car. both times were when he was feeling
an extreme emotion that triggered adrenaline. Like in every day
situations, adrenaline fuels the body and provides extra energy and that
energy was letting him effect things in the physical world. And right
this second, his adrenaline, physical or not, was certainly pumping.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed hold of
the wadded up metal and *lifted* it.
The other man stumbled away from Scully, startled by the
seemingly unsupported object flying towards his head at extreme speeds.
His eyes were wide as he just stood there and Mulder connected with a
solid blow, making the man's eyes go misty and cross over. His gun went
sliding under the desk with a clatter. The object was suddenly too heavy
to hold and Mulder had to let it go as the man fell to the floor, the
metal landing on the would-be-killer's foot, both dead weights, both
still and unmoving.
<Now *that* was satisfying,> he thought with some wicked
pleasure. He looked around the room briefly as he went to kneel next to
his partner and saw the photos and the desk. <Looks like she found what
she was looking for.> He realized that the toher man was gone and there
were only two possible places for him to go. To find X or to go to the
hospital and finish the job he had started. Mulder decided that he
really didn't want to die.
"Scully, hey, Scully," he said, trying to shake her, but either
the adrenal rush was gone, or it wasn't enough because she didn't move.
"C'mon, Scully, wake up will ya?"
Still no response.
"Please, Dana, I need your help..."


Melissa had nearly dozed off in spite of herself by the time a
doctor came out to speak to Skinner. Without a word, she rose and joined
the two, listening intently.
"We've removed the bullet and repaited his left lung. The
bullet's path caused it to nick the left ventricle of the heart and we
repaired that as well." The doctor sighted, realizing that his surgical
greens were covered in blood. "It was touch and go for a while, but the
prognosis is fair. It's important that we wait to see if Agent Mulder
revives first, then we can start breathing easy." He turned to Melissa.
"Are you Dana Scully?"
She shook her head. "No, I'm her sister."
"Is Miss Scully here? I should really be telling her this, even
though you are his boss," a nod to Skinner, "he had her listed as his
next of kin."
Skinner looked startled and Melissa allowed herself a private smile.
"She's not related to him," the FBI director said. "She's his
"Well, he listed her as next of kin. Do you know where she is?"
Skinner looked at Melissa, his face unreadable. "She is
currently unreachable. I'll let you know when she does arrive."
"Where's Fox now?" Melissa chipped in. She still didn't sense
his presence in the building and she wanted to be there to help guide him
back when he returned. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could do
to help.
"We've taken the leberty of putting him in a private room instead
of recovery. Under the circumstqances we thought it would be best. I
can show you where it is, I guess you can see him if you are Miss --
excuse me, *Agent* Scully's sister."
Melissa followed the doctor, looking briefly back at Skinner who
was muttering something about Fox Mulder and his damn medical bills. She
could read the relief in his aura and she smiled again.


She could hear a voice calling her softly, far away. She didn't
want to answer, she wanted to just lay wherever she was and not move.
Her head felt about five sizes too small and her index finger on her
right hand throbbed with pain. The pain and the voice were all that she
was aware of.
"Dana? C'mon, dammit, wake up!"
"Go 'way, Mulder," she muttered automatically. "I have a headache."
"Dana! You can hear me?!"
"Mmmm." She couldn't concentrate.
"That other hitman is gone, Dana, and I think he's coming after
me. Dana, I need your help!"
Mulder needed her, she had to get up, Mulder had been shot...
"MULDER!!" she gasped, sitting bolt upright, pressing one hand to
her temple. He was in the hospital, not here, there was no one here
except man she had never seen before, and he was out cold, snoring loudly.
<The other man, where is he? And what the *hell* happened to my
*gun*? And why does my subconscious sound like Mulder?> She started to
stand up and wished she hadn't. A chill gripped her elbow of all places,
and her head was really starting to hurt now, plus her finger had
definitely broken when her gun had gone flying out of her hand.
Better not think about that now.
"Mulder," she said again, a whisper. Subconscious or not,
whatever it was, the voice had made sense. The man was gone and it
didn't take a trained agent to figure out where he was going.
<Dammit, there's no phone here!> She had left her cellular at
home, having barely remembered to grab her gun in the haze following
Skinner's phone call. <I have to get back to the hospital!>
Looking down at the unconscious man, she wondered what had
happened. By all rights she should be dead because she was sure that
this was the second man X had been talking about. But she was still
alive and somebody had brained this guy with what was left of her gun.
The irony of it impressed her, but there was no sign of whoever had saved
her life. X perhaps? Surely not. If there was one thing she knew about
him, it was that he was a coward when it came to risking his skin. She
wondered how these men had stumbled onto his idenity and then decided
that she didn't want to know because she suspected that there would be a
blood trail leading to the answer.
She had to go, before it was too late. Once decided, she didn't
look back, knowing that the man on the ground would probably be gone by
the time she got back...She'd find him again later. A quick look had
burned his features into memory.
she left the warehouse at a stumbling run, knowing she was
unarmed and pursuing a killer, but she didn't care. All she cared about
was getting there in time...


He found out where Mulder was at the front desk and made his way
to the room via the elevator. Once on the appropriate floor, he followed
a male nurse about his size until the nurse was alone, then he struck,
coming up behind him and breaking the other man's neck in one smooth
movement. He was in a foul mood and didn't want to waste any time,
didn't give a damn who else he killed. Using his talent to disarm Scully
had given him a bitch of a headache. He was glad she was dead.
Dragging the dead man into a supply closet, he stripped and took
the uniform of the nurse, acknowledging the cliched disguise but knowing
it would get him where he needed to be. Now all he needed was a syringe.
It didn't take him long to find it.


Scully had heard him!
Mulder couldn't believe it. He figured it had something to do
with her semi-conscious state at the time and he wasn't going to knock
it. But as soon as she was fully awake, it was like he wasn't there. He
had tried to steady her when she had gotten to her feet, looking like she
was going to pass out again.
"C'mon, Scully," he coaxed, not caring if she was ignorant to his
presence again. He watched her take in the scene with stunned suspicion,
looking around for whoever had clobbered the guy on the floor. "There
isn't time for this." Wondering if he should head back to the hospital
and try to reach Melissa again, he dismissed the notion. There wasn't
much he could do to get through to her. *Dana* Scully was his best chance.
"Mulder," she whispered.
"I'm here, Scully, but you've got to get going." He watched her
search for something with her eyes then straighten, shooting her most
dangerous look at the snoring man on the floor and then she ran out of
the warehouse at an unsteady dash.


Melissa was sitting next to Fox's body, listening with only part
of her mind to the various beeps and hums of the machines that were
insuring his life. Most of her was focussed on seeking out his spirit.
Now that she was alone, she had dug out one of her crystals and was
holding it cupped between her hands, gazing into its depths.
<Show me where you are, Fox,> she thought to it. <Let me help
you back...>
The door to the toom opened and a nurse stepped in, hand in his
pocket. Startled, she looked up at him and her eyes widened as she read
his aura.
there was violence about this man, a sense of anger directed to
the form in the bed.
She knew instictively that this was the man who had shot Fox.
Reacting with speed she didn't know she possessed, she threw the
crystal at his face as he began to approach, and she started to lunge for
the call button.
But she was on the wrong side of the bed adn he caught her before
she could reach it, swatting aside the gem before it hit him, grabbing
her arm and hitting her with a closed fist. With a cry of fright, she
tumbled away from him, loosing her balance, heading for the floor. On
her way down, the side of her head struck the rounded metal edge of the
foot of the bed.
<FOX! DANA!> was all she had time to think as she lost consciousness.


Skinner was still in the waiting room, doing exactly what the
room was built for. waiting. Waiting for notifications from his agents
that they had caught the man who had shot Fox Mulder, that somebody had
found Dana Scully, that aliens were storming the White House.
Something. Anything. For Melissa Scully to come back from seeing
Mulder. Nice enough girl, if a little flaky. He was glad that it was
Dana and not Melissa who had ended up with the FBI. He got the shakes
just thinking about if there were *two* flakes running the X-Files
Division. The notion was too horrible to contemplate, but he momentarily
fantasize the response of Mulder's Cancer Man to that situation. Maybe
it did have some merits after all.


Scully had run out of the warehouse beofre Mulder had a chance to
follow, driving off in a squeal of tires. He wondered very briefly if
she should be driving after taking such a whack to the head, then
realized that he would die if she didn't reach the hospital in time,
which was why he'd been trying to get her to start moving. He
oncentrated on an image of her and appeared in her car just as she
rounded a corner with dangerous speed, blood still flowing down her face,
hands clutching the steering whell hard enough to turn her knuckles white.
"Come one, dammit," she whispered desperately, wincing a little
in pain as her fingers curled around the wheel. he noticed now that the
one was obviously broken.
"Easy, Scully," he urged. "You can't help me if you wreck the car."


No time, there was not time.
Dana squeezed the wheel tightly, trying very hard to ignore the
pain in her finger and her head, ingnoring the vision that would blur for
a second now and then, ignoring everything but the street signs. It was
now late at night and traffice was light. Otherwise she never would have
made it.
She was out of the car before it came to complete stop and went
plunging through the main doors to the hospital, skidding to a halt at
"Where's Fox Mulder?" she snapped.
The clerk at the desk took one look at her and tried to direct
her to the emergency room.
"Fox Mulder," she repeated, showing her Federal ID and projecting
authority, a neat trick when dripping blood onto the counter.
The clerk typed the name into his terminal. "Fifth floor, room 518."
Paging Skinner would alert the killer and she had no patience to
wait for hospital security. Spinning away from the desk, she darted for
the nearest staircase, head and heart pounding. The five flights of
stairs went by with impossible slowness, and by the time she reached the
right floor she thought she was going to pass out. Ruthlessly she shove
the thought aside and erupted out the stairwell. 518 was at the end of
the hall and she shouldered open the door, bursting through and letting
it slam closed behind her.
The first thing she saw was her partner's pale face, dark circles
under his eyes, a few scrapes from when he'd fallen from the bullet. She
could hear the heart monitor and felt her own heart leap with joy and
*He was still alive!*
The euphoria faded as she saw Melissa on the floor, insensate, a
lump on her forehead beginning to darked with bruising.
<Oh god, no!>
The man from the warehouse was there, looming over Mulder, an IV
tube in one hand, needle in the other. There was nothing in the syringe
but empty space.
<An air emolism,> she thought as he swung to face her. <He's
going to kill Mulder with an air embolism.>
His eyes registered shock at the sight of her.
"You do seem to lead a charmed life, Agent Scully," he said with
a dangerous undertone. "You were supposed to be dead by now."
"Step away from him."
"Not yet." He turned back and started to plunge the syringe into
Mulder's arm, bypassing the IV, but she dived for him, wishing
desperately that she hadn't lost her gun, grabbing his arm and wrenching
it back.
He tried to throw her off long enough to drive the needle home,
but she clung onto him with frantic intensity. Changing tactics with
unexpected speed, the man yieled to her pressure and used the momentum to
turn and trap her between his arms and chest, the needle now aimed at her
"Say goodbye to your partner, Agent Scully, and your life..."


At the warehouse, the man was starting to come to, raising a hand
to tender spot on his head. His fingers came away stained with blood.
Glancing around, he saw no sigh of Dana Scully except the bundled mass
that had been her gun. He remembered it flying through the air at his
head and wondered if his partner had decided to eliminate him as well.
Climbing carefully onto his feet, he could make out a figure
approaching from the outer warehouse area. He recognized it two seconds
before a gun barked. He never hear the shot that killed him.


A security guard found Skinner in the waiting room.
"Excuse me, sir," he said.
"Yes," Skinner replied tiredly. "What is it?"
"A clerk at reception asked me to find you. About five minutes
ago a woman came in demanding to know where your Agent Mulder was. She
had a federal ID, but the clerk was concerned because of her appearance--"
"What do you mean?" he demanded, climbing to his feet. "What
about her appearance?"
"Apparently her head was covered in blood, the clerk tried to
direct her to the E.R. but she disappeared into one of the stair cases."
"What did she look like? About five-two, red hair?"
"Yes, sir, that tallies with the description the clerk gave me--"
<Scully. Just once I'd like to see *one* of them coming through
an assignment or a *week* without running up a medical bill.> "I'll tkae
care of it. she's one of my agents." <For the *moment* at least.>


Mulder had lost Scully in the lobby of the hospital, but he found
her again by centering on her image. He wound up in a hospital room
shred by his body, a semi-conscious Melissa and a struggling pair he made
out to be Scully and the first man from the warehouse.
<That's the guy that shot me!>
And at that particular moment, the man was trying to kill his
partner. Melissa wasn't going to be of any immediate help; she was just
starting to come around, groaning nad carrying on like sh'd never been
knocked on the head before. Which perhaps she hadn't.
Scully was playing a game of keep away involving a syringe that
looked empty.
<Air embolism,> he thought, mind racing to come up with something
helpful. <*Very* nasty.>
He could feel the adrenaline flowing again and racked his brain
for the best way to use it. There was little doubt in his mind that he
would lose a tug of war with the man. He came up with the answer just as
the man snarled at Scully, something about saying goodbye to her life.
<Not just yet, she won't.> He stabbed at the call button,
sliding around the grappling duo. <Hold on a second, Scully...>
Brushing past them, he sprinted for the door and hit the light switch,
plunging the room into semi-darkness.




From: (Jessica Lynn Archibald)
Subject: FAR AWAY NEARBY 4/4
Date: 18 Jun 1995 06:11:26 GMT

Ta da...drum roll please. Here's the conclusion and red faced apologies
for taking so long.

Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 Productions but the story is
copyrighted 1995 by me.

THE FAR AWAY NEARBY PART 4 by Jessica Archibald

When the lights went out it was a toos-up who was more
surprised. Dana didn't waste much time worrying about it though, and
used the man's bewilderment to bring her foot smashing down on his
instep. with a howl, he let her go and she pivoted, hitting his jaw with
the point of her right elbow. The needle went spinning out into the
room, clattering to the floor.
Reaching out, he caught hold of the collar of her jacket, and
used it to fling her onto the floor. this time, she was prepapred and
rolled into the throw, coming to a stop on her knees, leaping back into
her feet. Her head was spinning now and she'd bashed her finger in the
struggle. Things had to end soon.
He came at her again.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the needle rise up,
outlined in the moonlight coming in the single window, casting the room
in shades of blue and gray.
It headed straight for Mulder.
The man threw a punch at her head.


He couldn't waste all of his time with her. He had to finish off
everyone in this room and get out before someone came in to investigate
the ruckus they were making. Squaring off against Scully, who looked
like she was going to collapse any minute and save him some trouble, he
sent part of his mind reaching out to the needle on the floor, lifting it
and sending it hurtling straight towards his initial target.
It was funny, but he could swear that there was someone else in
the room, hiding in the shadows and watching the fight with anxious eyes.


Mulder saw the needle and jumped for it, but this time there was
nothing left to swat it with. It felt like he was hitting a stonewall
Skinner would be proud of.
<The shooter must be telekinetic,> he thought frantically. <That
would explain Scully's gun.>
He may have saved Scully, but there was no one to save him.


Skinner was just coming out of the fifth floor elevator when a
buzzer went off at the nurses' station. A sinking feeling was in his gut
as he produced his ID, flashed it at the duty nurse and demanded to know
what room the call was for.
"518," she replied in surprise.
Another nurse came running down the hall from the opposite
direction in a state just this side of hysteria. She was babbling about
finding someone named Lou in one of the supply closets, he neck broken,
stripped down to his underwear.
"Call security," Skinner snapped, "and don't let anyone near room
518 until I say otherwise." He could take a good guess as to what was
going on in that room. He wasn't Assistant Director of the Federal
Bureau of Investigation for nothing. "Tell security to call the FBI
building and request additional agents."
He took off down the hall before anyone could ask him anything else.


Melissa was aware of both Fox and Dana when she came swimming
back to consciousness. Both were in a state of high agitation and she
forced herself into a sitting position. her head was poinding and she
felt sick to her stomach. She'd never gotten involved in a fight like
that before, leaving such physical conflicts to her sister and their
brothers. In the future she decided to maintian such a stance.
<Up,> she told herself firmlyu. <You have to help them.>
Peering through eyes that kept blurring, she saw Dana and the man
fighting on one side of the room. Fox was still somewhere in the room,
she could sense his anxiety and it was screaming at her , making her poor
head hurt even more.
A flash of motion caught her eye and she saw a needle rising up,
quivering with no one to hold it. It paused and then headed towards the bed.
Her hand flew up almost of its own accord and she caught it as it
went by, holding onto it with a determinied grip. It struggled against
her grasp and it flet like a full sized male was actually tugging it away
from her. With her free hand, she reached up and yanked out the plunger
part of it, rendering it incapable of doing anything more than sticking
in soemone. jAs soon as she did so, it fell still in her hand.


He swore silently as the other woman intercepted the needle,
lashing out at Scully, who ducked and came up under the blow, catching
his arm, yanking him off balance. Recovering, he grabbed a fistful of
her hair, kicked at her feet and knocked her down.
Suddenly there was someone else beside her, urging her to get
back up. He choked on a yell as he recognized Fox Mulder, who was only
visible to his other senses.
"This time you'll stay dead," he snarled and gathered what little
energy he had left, aiming it at the ghostly image of the federal agent....


Mulder saw the man stare right at him as he tried to convince
Scully to get up again.
<Uh-oh. He sees me.> Part of his mind was cataloging the fact
that htis man must have other psychic abilities in addition to
telekineses. Most of him was too busy panicking to notice.
The man seemed to stretch out a hand towards him and Mulder saw
a faint glow that burst into full techniclour life.
The room exploded into a world of pain and began to fade away
into a wash of darkness.
He reached for Scully and everything went away...


Melissa sensed what was about to happen and she squeezed her eyes
shut, trying to get a visual image of the scene. Fox was standing to
Dana's right, the man in front of both of them. The stranger's aura was
on overload, a mad swirl of colour that blinded her through her closed
eyes. A bright lance of colour exploded from him and hit Fox in the
chest. She could sense his pain as his spirit went rushing back into his


Dana wasn't exactly sure what the hell the man was talking about
now, but she didn't take the time to ask him. For just a second she
thought she saw a flash of light and the outline of a familiar figure,
but she couldn't be sure. From her position on the floor, she struck out
with her right lega dn swept his feet out from under him. He seemed
distracted and he fell hard, striking his head on the tile floor with a
sickening crack just as the door flew open and Assistant Director Skinner
dove through, fanning the room with his gun.
The heart monitor was wailing.
"Mulder!" She scrambled to her feet, almost tropping over ht
eman in her hast to get over to the bed. Looking up0 at the monitors,
she cursed so hard that she heard Skinner exclaim in surprise and Melissa
choke back a hysterical giggle.
<Damn you, Fox Mulder,> she thought angrily, <don't you *dare*
give up on me now!>
Mulder's heart was threatening to stop and he wasn't breathing.
Without hesitation, she began mouth ot mouth resuscitation from an
awkward position next to the bed.
Internally she began to count off the breaths she was sharing
with him and when she came up for air, she saw that Skinner had stuch his
head back out the door and was bellowing for assistance. Melissa had
come to stand on the other side of the bed, clutching Mulder's hand.
<Come *on*, dammit, *breathe*.>
Her face felt damp with tears and she let them fall.
<IF you die, Mulder, I'll kill you. Who else will drive me crazy
with wild theories? who else will help me through the bad spots and let
me cry on their shoulder? Who else will tell me all about the sister
they love so much? Who else will put so much trust in me? Please,
Mulder -- *Fox* -- don't die...>
She was still counting.
Skinner was back in the room, leaning over the man on the floor
and shaking his head, motioning to the incoming guards to take him away.
She had no time to be glad.
the monitors stopped wailing.
Mulder coughed and she jumped back.
His eyes opened. She heard Melissa gasp.
"Mulder? Can you hear me?" Dana asked, smoothing back his hair
with her good hand.
His gaze flickered over to her, taking in her rather battered
appearance and tear slicked features. He nodded, reached for her left hand.


The last thing he remembered was standing before the other man
and reaching for Scully. And now he was in the hospital bed, with both
Scully and her sister staring at him. Now he could feel the pain that
should have been with him all night. Biting back a groan, he completed
the motion and took hold of Scully's hand.
"Bad day, Scully?" he whispered hoarsely.
She gave a cross between a laugh and a sob, one of her rare
smiles lighting up her face. "Mulder, you have no idea."
"You might be surprised..."


He came to handcuffed to a hospital bed, two men in suits
standing guard, FBI agents if he was any judge of tailoring. His head
ached dully but it wouldn't dtop him. All he would need were a few
minutes to get his strength back and then he would be able to use his
abilities to get lose. Glancing out the window, he saw that he was on
the first floor of the building and if he could overcome his guards, she
would be gone just like that.
The door opened and Assistant Directore of the FBI, Walter
Skinner, walked in, nodding to the two agents, and looking down at him
with a stern air.
"I don't suppose you want to tell me who you are and why you
tried to kill Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully? We already know why you
killed that nurse and you will be going to jail for that much at least."
He said nothing, glaring back at the older man.
" didn't think so." Skinner waved the two agents out of the room
and leaned closer to him. "Agnet Scully tels me that you work for the
government and I'm inclinded to believe her. I want you to know that I
won't stand for you hiding behind another agency to escape charges. The
truth will come out about this."
He was beginning to probe at the handcuffs, inching them open
with the power of his mind, a natural talent he had had since birth and
one which the government recognized the importance of. They wouldn't let
this windbag of a bureaucrat ruin his career. OF that he was sure.


Skinner watched the man's reaction carefully. He had just spent
the last hour debriefing Scully as it were and she had explained her
actions while carefully avoiding the source of her information. She had
attributed the actions taken against Mulder as retribution for past
interference in government matters.
The director had a good idea who had supplied her with the
information this time around and was milding disappointed that he
wouldn't have the satisfaction of beating it out of the informant again.
Dispatching some agents to the warehouse had netted them a dead body, a
pistol under a desk, and a ball of metal that had once been a gun.
Nothing else. Ballistics was running tests on the bullet that had killed
tha mna, but Scully asserted that she hadn't killed him and Skinner
believed her. In fact, he believed everthing she had told him, including
needles that went flying through the air and guns that turned themselves
into scrap without assistance. The story was too bizzare not to be true,
even if the storyteller had now been admitted to the hospital with a
concussion. If it had been Mulder telling the story, that would be
another matter, but Scully had seemed completely rational when she had
explained, althought Skinner suspected that come mroning she would be
kicking herself for saying so much.
The man in front of him was now sullen, but Skinner was wary.
The unexplained phenomena that Scully, as well as her sister, had
witnessed had to come from somewhere and this man was the kilely source.
He looked out the window for a moment to compose himself and a
glint of metal caught his eye.
the window exploded inward as a bullet came winging in.
Skinner dropped to the floor as the agents came bursting back
into the room at a dead run. There were no more shots.
The man in the bed was dead.


"You and Melissa are going to have matching bruises, Scully."
Mulder was propped up in his bed, enjoying the physicla
sensations of being able to affect objects without being in a high stress
there was a non committal answer from the bed on his right.
Melissa giggled from her seat between both beds, the lump on her
head already purple. she had already taken several aspirin and said she
felt fine.
The partners were sharing a hospital room for the night, what was
left of it. Scully had been admitted under protest for observation and
Mulder obviously wasn't going anywhere for a while.
Mulder had decided not to tell Scully that he had been shadowing
her most of the evening and he actually saved her life. She would never
believe him and would probably start calling for a psychiatric evaluation
to be done on him if he opened his mouth. He was still have trouble
believing it himself now that he was back in his body, and would in fact
have chalked it all up to one massive hallucination if it wasn't for the
fact that he could recall events that had actually happned.
Skinner had brought word that both the man who had tried to kill
Mulder * and* his accomplice were dead. Mulder suspected that he and
Scully both shared the sme opinion about who the killer and been this
time. Skinner had presented Scully with what was left of her weapon,
complained aboutthe cost of their health care, did they know how much
paperwork went along with it? and had finally left with a few brusque
words of sympathy.
Mulder watched Melissa tease her sister about the multicolour
bruises that were spreading over both their faces and smiled to himself.
Life was good.
"Purple bruises with red hair, Scully," he said playfully.
"That's a bold fashion statement." He winked at Melissa who winked back.
Scully turned her head towards him and he could see the wry
grin. "AT least I'm not asking to borrow one of your ties..."
"What's wrong with my ties?" he demanded as forcefully as he
could without opeing his stitches. "They're the pinnacle of fashion."
"Donb't make me laugh, Mulder," Scully replied, "it hurts too much."
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
Mlelissa excused herself around then, saying that Skinner had
arranged to have an agent drive her to Scully's apartment.
Mulder waited until she was gone and then let out a pained groan.
"you okay, Mulder?" Scully asked immediatley, looking up from
examining the splint on her broken finger.
"I'll live." He looked up at the ceiling for a minute then swung
his head to face her. She was still watching him. "I know what you did,
Scully, going after tem like that."
"I was listening when you filled in Skinner." A lie, but he
didn't think she would want to know the truth. "It was stupid."
"you could have gotten killed."
"Sound advice from the man whose track record is full of stupid
He grinned, held up his hands. "I didn't say I wouldn't have
done the same thing, I'm just saying it was stupid."
"I know it was, but what else was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know, but I wanted to say thank-you."
"You're welcome."
They shared a companionable silence for a long moment.
"Do you think that this could ver happen again?" he asked finally.
"I don't know, Mulder, and I don't want to think about it." She
shut her eyes. "I want to go to sleep."
"'Night, Scully."
"Good night, Mulder."
He watched her for a while and then settled back to get some
sleep of his own.
He was still here, she was still here.
For now, it was enough.