TITLE: The Heart of Reason
NAME: frogdoggie
FEEDBACK: frogdoggie@hotmail.com
Additional headers, including Disclaimer can be found in Part 1. Missing a part of this story or just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: https://www.squidge.org/3wstop
xXx
The minute I open the townhouse front door I suspect I beat everyone home. The house is quiet.
"Anybody home?" I yell as I shut the door behind me and lock it. The hollow echo of my voice is the only answer...confirming my assertion that everyone is still out. Well, it's only 2:45. Scully's lunch with her mother is probably running late and Walter might have stopped somewhere with Charlie. The Redskins are playing a late game, so there's plenty of time. I wipe my feet and then pull my coat off and hang it on the coat tree next to the door. Loosening my tie, I head off toward the kitchen in search of some coffee.
Before I pour my mug of coffee I walk over to the nook in the kitchen where there's a built-in desk. A telephone and answering machine sit on the desk along with some cookbooks, pens, pencils and pads of paper for taking notes. I check the answering machine for messages. A red number five is blinking on the digital readout. Grand Central Station on our phone line this afternoon, I think as I push the playback button.
The first message is a hang-up...a wrong number evidently. The machine cycles through it quickly to the next message.
Scully's voice greets me from the machine after a shrill beep.
"Hi, it's me. I just wanted to let you all know Mom and I are running a little late. The restaurant was packed and service was slow. We did have a nice relaxing time, though. At any rate, Mom wants to stop by "The Gap for Kids" now because they're having a huge sale. And no, Mulder...we're not buying any more pastels. Take care. I'll be home around 3 o'clock."
A male voice comes out of the speaker on the third call.
"Doctor Scully...this is Greg Van Dunk. It'll be no problem for me to administer that exam for you tomorrow. I'll put the finished tests papers in your office in-basket and lock up again per your instructions. Take care of yourself, now. I'll see you on Tuesday."
Greg, the TA. Scully must have called him this morning. She'll be glad he returned her call.
The fourth message cues up and I turn up the volume and cross back over to the coffee pot to fill the mug I already took out of the cupboard.
"Hey, it's me..."
It's Walter on his cell phone, I pause over the mug and listen carefully.
"And me," I can hear Charlie's voice prompt in the background. Walter chuckles.
"And the honorable Charles Mulder as well. We're going to be a little late getting back. Reverend Hathaway's Springer Spaniel Bessie had her litter of puppies and I'm taking Charlie over to see them."
I wrinkle my brow a little. Well that's nice but...hold firm, Skinner. Don't give into the kid and bring that puppy he's been lobbying for home. We're not ready for a four-footed addition to the household along with the bundle of joy the stork's bringing in about two months.
"Don't worry, we're not going to reserve one to bring home later. Charlie and I already have an understanding on that point. He's getting a little brother or sister first...the puppy can wait."
"That's my man," I mumble, finally filling my mug. I can just see him raising an eyebrow at Charlie as he delivered that message. I grin a little.
"At any rate, we'll be home by kick-off time. Get the 'game food' ready. Later."
I put the coffee pot back on the coffeemaker's burner as the machine beeps mechanically cueing up the next message. The coffee mug is halfway to my lips when the next voice stops my hand from bringing the rim the rest of the way.
"Mulder...pick up if you're there. Scully? Skinner?"
It's Alex Krycek.
I put the mug down on the counter and stride back over to the answering machine.
"Ok, listen...we need to talk. I'm not home...I'm in transit and I gotta go. You probably won't be able to reach me on my cell phone so I'll call you back."
The abrupt click of Krycek severing the connection leaves me staring at the machine, a feeling akin to invisible cold fingers ruffling the short hairs on the back of my neck.
"Shit...what's up now?" I sigh, punching the delete button and erasing all the messages.
Then I shake my head. Let's not panic here, Mulder, I tell myself. The tone of his voice didn't sound overly serious and Alex is never very wordy when he leaves a message. It's probably something routine. I know he and Marita were planning on coming into town before the baby was born to visit, so maybe he's calling about that idea. I shake off the feeling of impending trouble that I always seem to get when Alex calls. I shrug and reach for a pen from the pen holder.
"I'll just wait until he calls back and we'll see what's going on then," I mumble as I take a pad of paper out and write a note to Scully about Greg's call. After I finish writing the note, I tack it up on the cork board that hangs up over the desk and then return to my mug of coffee determined not to worry about Alex Krycek.
xXx
"And they sucked on my fingers," Charlie says excitedly. "Then they sucked on Bessie's nipples."
"They were nursing," Scully amends.
"Oh...yes. Uncle Wall told me that word too."
"I bet their tails curled under when they were nursing," Scully replies as I put the last spoonful of peas from my dinner plate into my mouth.
"How did you know that Mommy?"
"Because when I was a little girl my Uncle Charles' Pointer had puppies and whenever they'd nurse they'd curl their little tails under. My Uncle said that was a sign they were getting plenty of milk."
Charlie pulls his mug filled with milk over and takes a long drink from it as if in punctuation to Scully's comment.
"They were certainly content, fat puppies," Walter remarks as Charlie swallows and then carefully sets his mug down. I swallow my peas and reach for my napkin as Charlie replies.
"They made their paws go like this." He makes motions like a puppy kneading its mother's breast.
"Yeah, that's how they get the milk to come out of the breast," I reply, wiping my mouth with my napkin.
"Will the baby do that on you, Mommy?" Charlie asks with curiosity.
"Yes, honey," Scully smiles.
"Then the baby will get fat too," Charlie replies seriously.
"You're not too fat are you?" I ask him with a grin.
"Nah."
"Well, you did that on Mommy's breast too."
"I did?" he asks somewhat surprised.
"Yeah...you did. I can testify to that," Walter replies, giving Charlie and then Scully a gentle look.
"Well...holy cow," Charlie pronounces in a perfect imitation of Jimmy Bond.
All three of us laugh and Charlie giggles as I tickle his stomach.
"Maybe I was wrong...maybe you do have a fat belly, Pikachu," I laugh.
It's 6:30 and we're all sitting around the remains of a dinner of leftover pot roast, peas and scalloped potatoes that I warmed up after I did some e-mail. Scully spent the remainder of the afternoon resting after her day out. Walter got Charlie changed out of his good suit and into a T-shirt and jeans and then we all started to watch the Redskins game. When it became apparent the game was going to be a blow-out and the Skins were going down in flames, we couldn't bear to watch their humiliation. At that point, the TV went off and Charlie tagged along into the attic with Skinner to unpack the rest of the boxes from the move. I converted our game food into dinner by micro-waving some more leftovers. Eventually we all sat down at the kitchen table.
Charlie's been regaling us with information about Bessie's puppies. I think the experience of seeing them eclipsed the trip to the Unitarian church. But that's all right...he had a good day on both counts really and that's what's important.
"Walter...make sure you thank Reverend Hathaway for us. It was very nice of him to invite Charlie over to see the puppies."
"Jerry had as much fun showing them off as we did seeing them I think," Skinner chuckles. "I thanked him, but I'll make sure I convey your thanks too."
Scully's about to speak again when the telephone rings.
"Krycek," Skinner says, glancing at me.
"Yeah...it might be him," I reply, rising.
I told them he'd called of course. Neither Walter or Scully seemed overly concerned about it. By the time we sat down to dinner most of my trepidation about Alex's phone call had worn off.
"Mommy...may I have some more milk, please?" Charlie asks as I leave the table and walk quickly over to the phone. Scully gets up to go to the fridge for the milk as I pick up the receiver.
"Mulder residence," I announce.
There's a click on the line and it goes dead. I pull the receiver away from my ear and frown at it.
"Sales call," Skinner observes.
"We had a hang-up earlier too. Maybe someone's trying to sell us aluminum siding again," I reply, replacing the receiver on the cradle.
"What did the caller-ID say?"
"Nothing specific...looked like a phone booth in DC somewhere."
"Maybe it was a wrong number," Skinner suggests.
I continue to stare at the phone for a moment while Scully pours milk for Charlie.
"Well I actually took a sales call for Child's educational toys the other day. We've been getting a lot of those kind of sales calls lately, so it was probably something similar as well," Scully replies.
I shrug and reply.
"Yeah. Alex'll call back when he can."
I return to the table as Skinner spears a last chunk of pot roast with his fork and pops it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing with enjoyment.
"You know this is great, Scully," he comments, complimenting the chef.
"Why, thank you," Scully smiles, making a little bow as she takes the gallon of milk back to the fridge. "I think it's even better warmed up. The marinade had more time to flavor it."
"Here, let me take that," I volunteer, walking over to lift the gallon out of her hands.
Scully smiles at me and hands the jug over.
"I happen to know someone made dessert," she says, giving my cheek a quick kiss.
"Yes ma'am...there's pudding in the fridge," I reply, carrying the milk to the fridge door.
"Chocolate," Walter smiles at Charlie.
"All right!" Charlie chortles, wiggling with excitement.
I place the milk back in the refrigerator and start pulling the 'Jello Instant Pudding' in the glass dessert dishes from inside.
xXx
"Well he's settled down finally," I say as I enter the master bedroom and shut the door.
Scully is just placing the copy of "My Dog Skip" by Willie Morris next to the baby monitor on the nightstand. She looks at the monitor a little wistfully but then she strokes her swollen stomach and smiles. I know what she's thinking...Charlie's almost too old for the monitor now, but someone else will be using it shortly. I'll have to set it up in the nursery and test it out before too long. It's lucky we have the small guest bedroom. It's converted nicely over to the baby's room.
"So, now he wants a smooth fox terrier," Walter chuckles looking at the book.
"Yeah...we had to debate that one for a few minutes after he asked for a glass of water," I reply, flopping down on the bed next to Scully.
Walter is sitting with his back against the headboard, wearing only his sweat shorts and Scully is next to him, dressed in her robe. Her heavy breasts and stomach press against the fabric, outlining her curves in soft gray as she answers us.
"Well, maybe I have an idea to help with the 'I want a dog' situation. I talked to Mr. and Mrs. Finnegan across the street. Their old poodle died and they just got a new dog. It's a French Bulldog named Winston. They said Charlie could come over and play with him any time he'd like."
I scratch my leg through my sweatpants and then lay back and smile up at Walter.
"Oh yeah...I saw Sally Finnegan walking Winston. That dog looks like you, Skinner...all wrinkled forehead and..."
Walter aims a perfect kick at my shoulder and connects, bumping me.
"Ow," I laugh.
Skinner chuckles.
"You're lucky I didn't kick you in the head, smartass."
"That's an excellent idea though Scully, really," I comment looking up at Scully then. "I think it'll help a lot."
"Yes...I'm hoping so anyway. He's really too young for a dog and this just isn't the time to get one."
"I think deep down he understands that," Walter rumbles, straightening a little against the headboard. "When we talked about it earlier today I got the idea he realizes it's not a good time. He's more excited about the new baby anyway. I would imagine when the baby's here thoughts about a puppy will vanish for a while."
Skinner caresses Scully's stomach as he finishes his remark and I smile at them both.
"Hey...I could do with a brandy," I suggest. "You want one?" I raise an eyebrow at Skinner.
"Sure," he nods.
"Scully, I can make you some herbal tea if you'd like while I'm downstairs getting the brandy."
"That sounds wonderful," she replies, rubbing at her stomach.
"How are you doing?" I ask her, sitting up.
"Oh, I'm fine. I feel good tonight actually. Little 'Surprise' was tap dancing a bit after dinner but seems to have quieted down now."
"So Maggie didn't wear you out too much with shopping?" I ask as I slide off the bed and head toward the door.
"Not really...and the rest this afternoon helped with whatever fatigue I did have. I'm glad you complimented her on the outfits, by the way. I think that made her afternoon."
"The clothes were great. I liked the little sweats."
"She thought you might. She's going to get some sneakers to go with them later."
"Yeah, those sweats were great, Scully...I have to give your mother a lot of credit. I really appreciate everything she's done. I hope she realizes that," Walter interjects.
I glance back and see Scully smiling at Walter as I reach the door. She caresses his thigh.
"I think she knows how you feel, Walter," she replies. Skinner bends over to kiss her gently on the lips as I turn, open the door and exit the room.
xXx
I fumble the bedroom door open, balancing the tray with two brandy snifters and a mug of Orange Zinger herbal tea on it as I do. Walter's quickly at the door however and opens it the rest of the way before I can drop anything.
"I think I can keep my day job, a waiter I'm not," I quip, sliding past him as he shifts out of the way.
Scully is sitting on the bed, a little flushed with her robe awry. I glance at Walter. The front of his sweats is tented a bit. A grin plays about my lips. God...sometimes these two are like teenagers. But that's definitely part of the fun of being with them.
I pretend to ignore the fact my partners have been engaging in a little make-out session and place the tray on the dresser. Walter takes one of the snifters and pats me on the back. He smiles.
"Thanks, Mulder."
"No problem."
I take my snifter and the mug with the tea and walk over to the bed, Walter following.
Walter takes his place against the headboard next to Scully again and I hand my wife the mug of herbal tea and stretch out on the end of the bed. I lay on my side, propping myself up to face them.
"Cheers," I say, raising my snifter up.
"Cheers," they both reply, making the toast as well.
We all sip our beverages for a moment.
"I'm glad you're taking tomorrow off too, Walter," I comment at last, lowering my snifter.
Skinner made the decision to take a vacation day and called in a message to Kimberly Cook's number at the Bureau just before dinner. I have just the two classes tomorrow, one at 1 and one at 2 o'clock. After that I'll come home and take that call from the book publishers.
"Yeah, I figured...what the hell. Things are actually a little slow at the Bureau right now. I have the accumulated time anyway. I might as well use it."
"Do you want to go to the doctor's with me tomorrow?" Scully asks, sipping at her tea.
"I had entertained the thought," Skinner rumbles, swirling the brandy around in his snifter.
"Yeah, why don't you go. I can't get out of my classes and I have to take that call from the publisher tomorrow afternoon otherwise I would have gone," I reply.
"Ok," Skinner replies then he clears his throat. "Speaking of the publishers...I have come to a decision on the book tour."
I lower my snifter again and sit up a bit. Scully straightens and turns toward Walter.
Skinner studies his snifter for a moment and we wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts. Then he looks up and looks from one of us to the other as he starts to speak.
"I gave it a lot of consideration and I think I can't just allow the two of you to face it all on your own. It's not fair, especially when my part in the story is apt to engender the most questions. So, I've decided it would be more responsible for me to do as much of the publicity as I can. I'll arrange with the Bureau so they know what's coming. After all...they're more than aware of my contributions to the fight against colonization. They know I've been working on the book with you and that there's going to be a lot of publicity. So...I'll deal with it. I don't want to leave the two of you twisting in the wind."
Scully nods and touches his shoulder. I give him an understanding nod as well.
"You know, Skinner...I realize you're probably relieved that the first round of publicity died down. I think we're all glad it did. But, I'm also going to be honest and say I'm relieved and pleased you're going to be with us this time around too. I appreciate it, big guy."
"Yes, Walter...I think we all know it isn't going to be easy, for a lot of reasons. It'll just be much easier if we stand together. I appreciate you making the decision to do the tour too."
Skinner gives a brief chuckle.
"Thanks...but I'll ask you to be patient along with your appreciation. I may end up growling about my decision later."
I laugh.
"Hell...for what it's worth, I'm sure I'll do my own pissing and moaning."
Scully ducks her head and suppresses a smile.
"I think it says a lot about you both that you're willing to admit it. And I agree...I'm sure I'll do a bit of moaning as well."
We all grin at each other and then Scully raises her herbal tea.
"Here's to bitching...venting...ranting...and assorted terms for it."
"Here, here," I laugh, raising my snifter.
"Ditto," Walter adds, lifting his glass as well. We all down what's left of our liquid refreshment and place the empty glasses and mug on the nightstand opposite the baby monitor.
Scully slides her legs over the edge of the bed.
"Excuse me," she murmurs as she levers up and pads off to the bathroom. I slide up and sit next to Walter and both of us watch her back as she leaves us.
"Won't be much longer now. Are you getting nervous?" I observe giving Walter a quick grin as Scully enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.
Walter nods and gives me a return smile.
"Are you?"
I chuckle.
"You first."
"Oh fuck you," he snorts. "Of course I'm getting nervous." His brow furrows then and his next words are more quiet. "But I'm...I'm..."
He stops and looks down.
"Christ, Mulder. This just means a lot to me."
I lift my arm up and put it around his shoulders, giving him a hug.
"I know it, big man. And I'm happy for you and Scully. And for what it's worth...I'm as nervous as hell. We'll get through it together though. No problem there."
"United we stand," he murmurs, giving my thigh a pat.
"Exactly," I smile unwinding my arm. Then I clear my throat.
"Did you two want to be alone, I can..."
"No...not at all. We were talking about making love...but the plan was to ask you to join us."
I grin.
"I think I can get behind that plan, most definitely."
Walter grins back. Then he reaches over and cups the back of my head, drawing my face to his. Our lips meet eagerly and as we kiss, the toilet in the bathroom flushes and the water in the sink runs for a few moments. We barely notice the sound. The snick of the bathroom door opening doesn't even break our lip lock.
"I see he said 'yes'," Scully comments with a chuckle as Walter nearly takes my breath away.
Finally Skinner releases me and I mime fanning myself.
"That's a big affirmative, Doctor Scully," I comment.
Walter chuckles and turns to Scully, extending his hand.
"Come here, lover," he rumbles in invitation.
Scully smiles and advances on the bed. When she reaches the side, she opens her robe and takes it off. She's naked underneath. If anyone ever tells you that a pregnant woman can't be wonderfully lovely and sexually desirable, they're wrong in my august opinion. Right now, as I gaze over Scully's figure my love for her as well as arousal floods through me, warming my body and soul.
Walter scoots over and takes Scully's robe from her, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he does so. I shift up, and swing my legs over the opposite side of the bed so I can pull my sweat pants off. When I turn back around to toss the pants to the foot of the bed, Walter is naked as well and Scully is standing between his legs with her back to him. I watch as he gently massages her lower and upper back with his strong hands.
"Yes...right there...oh, that's perfect," Scully comments as Walter kneads her trapezius muscles.
My sweats end up laying next to Walter's sweat shorts and Scully's robe. I slide over to sit in back of Skinner, spreading my legs on either side of him. I begin to rub his neck and shoulders and he shrugs his shoulders a little into my hands in appreciation.
"That feels good, thanks," he mumbles as he rubs Scully.
"You're welcome," I murmur in return.
We're silent for a few minutes as we work out the kinks.
"Turn around, baby," Walter finally tells Scully. She does as he suggests, and he tenderly rubs her stomach. She tilts her head back and rolls her head and shoulders.
"This feels wonderful too," she smiles at him.
"Mulder...you're next," Walter declares and I lean in and kiss him on the back of the neck.
In short order I'm getting a back rub from Walter too, as Scully sits up against the headboard, watching us.
"God...right there. Just a little harder," I breathe as Walter works out a particularly tight spot on my right shoulder. He applies a little more pressure.
"Good?"
"Oh yeah."
Scully stretches her legs, feet and toes, craning her neck to look over her stomach at them.
"I'll be glad when I can see my feet again," she comments.
Walter's hands leave my shoulders and I flex my neck and back in relief. The guy really does give a phenomenally skillful massage. Walter chuckles and knee walks over to sit next to Scully. He runs a hand over her belly and then up onto her right breast, lightly teasing her nipple.
"It won't be much longer. You'll be able to see them soon enough."
She smiles a little and looks from Walter to me and then down at her hands.
"What?" I ask as Scully continues to look down. I slide over to sit next to Skinner. Skinner touches her shoulder.
"What is it?"
Scully looks up and her eyes are a little moist.
"I'm just so happy," she whispers.
Skinner smiles wide at her and I grin too.
"Oh baby...I can't even tell you what you mean to me...what Mulder means to me too," Skinner whispers, reaching forward to brush her hair back from her face.
"I love you both...I...it's..." My voice fades and then I have to clear my throat of the emotion that threatens to clog it.
Skinner gathers Scully as close as he can and begins to kiss her. I watch as his hands cradle her and his mouth roams over hers. She runs her hand up and down his shoulder.
After their kiss, Scully reaches over Skinner and pulls on me, dragging me over into her arms. We end up leaning against Skinner's strong chest as we kiss hard.
Breaking the kiss we all stare at each other for a moment smiling like a bunch of dazed, lovestruck teenagers. I chuckle and Walter and Scully do as well. Then Scully lays her head on Walter's chest for a moment, caressing his pec. Skinner tenderly strokes her arm as I sit back, against the headboard and rest my head against his shoulder.
"Do you want to lie on your side?" Walter quietly asks Scully.
"I think I'd be more comfortable that way."
Walter nods and motions for her to roll over.
Scully rolls on her side with her back to Skinner and he rolls to spoon next to her. Scully glances over her shoulder at me.
"Mulder?"
Skinner turns his head and grins at me.
"Is this where you show me how interesting the term 'bundle' can be?"
I laugh and shift over, thrusting my half-hard cock into his butt crack.
"Bundle this," I chuckle into his ear as I nuzzle his neck.
He chuckles as well and shoves his ass back into my cock.
Soon we're all moving together, running our hands over each other wherever we can reach. Touching, massaging, arousing each other. I love this sharing, the idea that we can all join together in pleasure this way. Walter keeps a steady rocking against my cock and against Scully's ass, getting us both hard with the friction of warm skin sliding over warm skin. Walter's strong hands play over Scully, caressing her breasts and stomach. We all nuzzle and kiss, I rise up and bend over Walter once more to kiss a giggling Scully behind the ear. I shift back a little so Skinner can manage to maneuver one hand between Scully's legs to finger her clit. Finally we're all panting, breathing hard, erect and ready. Walter positions himself behind Scully and helps her to raise her leg up. I move back and sit up so I can watch him slowly slide his cock into her.
"Here...let me..." Scully suggests, trying to stretch her hand down to part her folds.
"No, it's ok..." Skinner replies, nuzzling into her hair when she can't quite reach. "I'm closer." Once he's gently moved her folds aside he pushes the head of his cock against her vulva.
Scully arches back into him, stroking the arm that he has draped over her stomach as Skinner eases inside her.
"You all right?" he asks quietly ceasing his movement as Scully clasps his arm to her stomach.
"Oh yes, you feel good," she assures him giving his arm a loving squeeze. Skinner kisses her neck and then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock inside her.
"Can you just hold me for a minute?" she whispers when he comes to rest against her.
"Sure."
He cuddles her close and nuzzles her neck as they enjoy their intimate connection.
I move to Skinner's side and lean over him to kiss Scully on the cheek.
She smiles at me and I give Skinner a kiss on the cheek as well. He cranes his head around and smiles at me too. Then his eyes drop to my erection. He licks his lips.
"Man...that's a fucking work of art. Come on, put it in," he rasps, his voice rough with passion.
"On the way," I reply.
It doesn't take me long to get the condom and lube from the nightstand drawer. As I'm rolling the condom down my length, Skinner begins rocking gently against Scully. I pour some lube into my palm and slick up my cock, watching Skinner's hard-on slowly pumping in and out of Scully's body for a second. Then I spoon in behind him.
"Damn, you two are such a fucking turn-on," I comment, looking between Walter and Scully's legs one last time before I shift into position and reach between his ass cheeks with my lubricated fingers.
"Jesus, this is good, lover. Get in on it," Skinner gasps, gritting his teeth when his engorged flesh slides into Scully again.
"Come with us," Scully pants.
After a few short moments of prepping Walter and then wiping my hands on the sheets, I do...pushing my cock into Skinner with a steady thrust forward.
When I'm fully inside him we all still for a minute, hugging each other close.
"This is the best," I whisper.
"Yes," Scully answers simply.
"Definitely," Walter affirms.
Then we move together, truly one and it's a sublime experience. I can barely describe the feelings coursing through me as I sense Scully's climax reverberating through Skinner's tightening muscles. When I feel Skinner squeeze down hard around my cock as he comes as well, I groan in ecstasy. Then my guttural cry mixes with Skinner's loud, orgasmic grunts and Scully's moans as I climax too, jerking spastically against Walter's thrusting ass.
We fall together in a heap afterwards. We want to linger...but eventually have to pull out, push apart...but the disconnection's only temporary as I dispose of the condom and we all clean up. Then we join with each other again in bed, cuddling close, murmuring words of love, as we drift off to sleep.
xXx
"Mommy!"
Charlie's voice coming over the baby monitor rouses me from a sound sleep. I scrub at my eyes, my heart hammering. Peering around the bedroom, my hands shaking, I listen to make sure I really heard it.
"Mommy!" Charlie calls out again, confirming I did hear him. I can tell from the tone of his voice that something's wrong.
For a few horrible seconds I think I'm having another nightmare. Panic flutters in my stomach. Walter shifts next to me, and lays a hand on my leg.
"It's ok, Mulder. I'm awake...we're all awake," he reassures me.
"I'll go," Scully mumbles next to Walter.
"No," Walter says, pushing up on his elbows.
"Mommy...there's a man in my closet,"
"Looks like I'm not the only one having nightmares," I sigh. "I'll go. I've got a lot of experience with this kind of thing at this point. You two get some rest."
I glance at the radio alarm clock. It's only 10:45. At least it's not 3 AM. We've only been asleep for around 45 minutes. Besides, what the heck...we can all afford to sleep in anyway. I slide out from under the covers, and grab my sweat pants from the bottom of the bed. After I slip the sweats on I pad across the dimly lit master suite to the door and exit the bedroom.
As I shut the door quietly behind me two things happen at once. The telephones in the house ring...and I hear Walter fumbling to pick up the receiver of the phone in the master suite. The ringing phones stop abruptly but Walter is barking into the receiver anyway.
"Skinner."
My brow furrows.
"Mommy...I think it's the 'Boogie Man'," Charlie cries out.
Boogie man? Something cold creeps up my spine, curls the short hairs on the back of my neck and then oozes back down and makes my balls head North. Over the years I haven't been one to tell Charlie that there's no such thing as the 'Boogie Man'. I fucking know better...and so does he. If he thinks the 'Boogie Man's' in his room...something could be very wrong here. In the back of my mind a voice is shouting for me to get my gun. Then Charlie's panicked voice fills my ears
"Daddy!"
Christ...he sounds scared shitless. All thoughts of getting my Smith and Wesson are wiped from my mind. Instead, I break into a run toward Charlie's room. I barely catch sight of the rifle butt as it connects with my jaw and knocks me cold.
xXx
The next thing I'm aware of is a gut wrenching pounding in my head. The mother of all fucking headaches sears my skull and almost drives me back into unconsciousness. I struggle to remain awake however and battle my way toward total comprehension. I run my tongue around the inside of my mouth and taste blood. My face feels swollen inside too. Someone is groaning and I suddenly realize it's me...but I can't keep the sound from escaping past my lips. There's a voice whispering. I fight through the ache in my head to listen.
"Mulder?"
Scully.
"He's coming round."
Skinner.
Both voices finally bring me completely around and I crack my eyelids. I'm dizzy, but my vision is clear. I seem to be lying on the floor near the foot of the bed, but off to the right of it, my head against the wall. I can see Scully sitting on the bed, her robe thrown hastily around her, her hands and feet bound with duct tape. She seems unharmed, but rage boils up in me at the sight of my pregnant wife's predicament, and the sight of fear in her eyes as she looks at me. As angry as I am, I cool myself down...I need a clear head to figure out what's going on...and anger's only going to work against me in that regard.
Walter's also in my field of vision, where he's sitting on the floor next to the bed. He's naked, his muscular arms bound to the nightstand with duct tape and his legs bound the same way in front of him. His nose and the corner of his mouth are bloody and a large bruise is forming on his swollen jawline. He looks as pissed as hell...but there's an underlying aura of fear around him too...and that's not comforting at all.
I look around again.
"Jesus, where's Charlie?" I cough.
"Mulder...they have him," Scully whispers, her voice steady despite the fright I see in her eyes. "They took him down to his room."
I cough again and focus on them both.
"Are you all right?" I ask Scully.
"Yes," she nods.
I look at Walter.
"You?"
"I'll live," he grates out. It's both a report on his condition, and a vow as well.
"Can we talk freely?" I whisper.
"I think so...there was a guard in here but he was pulled out about 30 minutes ago. We heard his footsteps go down the hallway and no one has come back up," Scully replies, whispering as well.
"I think they're taking a chance at leaving us alone...but they may not be gone long," Skinner cautions.
"How long have I been out?"
"About an hour and a half," Skinner hisses.
"Christ. What the fuck's going on?"
"There were five men," Skinner raps out. "All pros by the look of it. Black clothes and Kevlar vests, gloves, hoods, walkie talkies, night vision goggles, fully automatic CAR-15 assault rifles and Glock side arms. They haven't taken the hoods off yet so we haven't seen their faces."
"Which may be a good sign...it's possible they won't kill us if we don't know their identities," I interject.
Skinner nods and continues.
"One of them has a Russian accent."
"He's the one who did most of the talking," Scully adds.
"They overpowered us while I was answering the phone," Skinner whispers.
"I heard the phones ringing. Who was calling?" I choke and then spit. Bloody saliva drips down onto my naked chest. I try to sit up, but it's obvious I'm bound hand and foot as well. I roll over onto my side a little more and spit to clear my mouth further.
"I don't know...the line went dead," Skinner whispers.
"Did they ask you who was on the phone?"
Walter nods.
"Oh yeah...and they didn't like the fact that I told them the line went dead before I could find out," he replies, rubbing his bleeding lip on his shoulder as best he can. "I think that and the fact I told them to go to hell when they asked how I liked sleeping with your wife didn't make us fast friends either."
"I can see that," I reply, indicating his face with an inclination of my chin. "Somehow I don't think the sleeping arrangements are upper most in their minds however."
"Agreed," Skinner replies. "And at any rate, they haven't inquired about the phone call again," Skinner adds.
"Maybe they're just assuming whoever it was on the phone doesn't matter," Scully suggests. "Maybe they know they'll be out of here before it does matter."
I nod in contemplation...and then instantly regret it as my head throbs.
"Shit," I grunt. "My head's splitting. I guess that makes two of us."
"Oh...definitely," Skinner replies tersely.
A thousand things run through my mind then. How did these men get in? I know we locked up and set the alarm system. Well, they're pros...they probably bypassed the alarm. What do they want? Why are they here? Crap...I wonder why I thought this kind of thing was out of our lives now? I wonder why I even want to return to the X-Files if the possibility my family having to face this kind of situation again is out there? I shift my head around and then wince as I try to puzzle it all out...the pain behind my eyes is intense.
"Mulder...lie still. You may have a concussion," Scully advises.
"Jesus...what could they want with Charlie?" I hiss.
"I don't know," Scully whispers. "They were asking us all kinds of questions about him at first. Questions about his IQ, and then medical questions...did he have headaches...nightmares...walk in his sleep."
"Scully...could it have anything to do with the vaccine?"
Scully looks down at her bound hands.
"God...I...I can't see how. Why would it? The vaccine is available worldwide and even if they knew we used alien genetic material from Charlie's umbilical cord in creating it, I can't imagine anyone would care."
Walter interjects, his voice quiet and tense.
"They kept Charlie in his room the whole time they were questioning us and we assume they were questioning him as well. We could hear him crying down there. He's stopped crying but we can still hear him talking along with the voices of the intruders. Over the last half hour, apparently some of our visitors were going through the house searching for something. I have to imagine they pulled the guard out of here to speed up the task. I think your office as well as my office area upstairs have been pretty well ransacked. So whatever they're looking for could possibly have something to do with Charlie. I'm just not any more sure than Scully about what it would be, or why they're interested in the boy either."
"I don't think they were rough with him," Scully continues the narrative. "It didn't sound that way at least. Emotionally...well, I don't know. From the sound of his voice, he's clearly frightened and upset. We could hear them assuring him we were alive and if he would cooperate he could see us soon. I even think they offered him milk and..." she stops talking instantly and her eyes flash toward the door as a sound outside draws our attention. Footsteps thud in the hallway. The sound of heavy boots.
I struggle to sit up. I will not be seen lying on my side like a wounded dog for these assholes any longer, no matter how much it hurts to drag myself into a sitting position. So, I move and as I do, I tamp down my concern for my son so that I can throw all my attention into observing what happens next. I know Scully and Skinner are doing the same. All our lives may depend on it.
When the door opens, I'm sitting with my back against the wall, and my bound hands and feet stretched out before me.
A short, compact but muscular man dressed in black from head to toe walks into the room. He's followed by a taller, thinner man dressed in the same manner. Tall Man carries an assault rifle and Short Man his Glock side arm still holstered at his waist. Short man quietly shuts the door to the suite. We can hear the sound of booted feet going back down the hallway outside. The taller man remains stationed by the door, silent...his rifle up and ready. Short man saunters over to look down at me.
"Ah...welcome back to the land of the living, Professor Mulder," he comments, the Russian accent quite evident. His toothy smile shows white through the hole in his black mask. It's not a friendly smile. It's the kind of smile that resembles a pit bull's barred teeth before it takes a chunk out of you.
"Where's my son? And what do you want from us?" I ask quietly, capturing his cold, ice-blue eyes. His right eye is surrounded by a swollen, purplish bruise. So, Skinner or Scully must have gotten in at least one good punch during the earlier fray.
He straightens slightly and gives me a more patient seeming smile.
"Your son is fine and in his room," he replies, crossing over to the bed. He sits down on the edge next to Scully's feet. "We've given him a glass of milk and some of those Oreo cookies you had in the cookie jar in the kitchen," he adds, turning his gaze to Scully as he finishes the answer.
Scully stares into his face, her expression carefully neutral to hide her thoughts from him. But I know her better than our intruder...I can see the hatred for Short Man seething just below the surface. Short Man gives her a patient smile as well and swivels his head back to me. Before he can speak again, Walter interrupts, drawing the Russian's attention.
"What do you want with the boy?" he asks, his voice a gruff hiss from between clenched jaws.
Short man's head slowly swivels back over to Skinner. I can't see behind the stranger's mask, but I bet if I could, I'd see his jaw muscles jump. His whole posture changes and that ramrod stiff back and tight shoulders are saying he doesn't care for Walter S. Skinner one little bit.
As we watch, helpless, Short Man rises from the bed and walks over to straddle Skinner's legs. He pulls his hand back.
"No!" Scully cries out as the Russian slaps Walter hard across the face. Blood sprays out of Walter's mouth and nose again as his head rocks to the side. I'd say it was Walter that got that punch in earlier.
"Damn it!" I curse, struggling against my bonds. Tall Man at the door steps forward with the rifle held high and I cease to struggle as Walter's head snaps back around.
"I told you not to interrupt me again when we had our earlier...discussion," the Russian advises him as Skinner stares into his eyes not bothering to conceal his hatred for the man.
"Fuck you," Skinner whispers.
"I may just make you beg to fuck me later," the Russian whispers in return.
Skinner swallows, coughing on his blood, his eyes blazing his wrath. The Russian sidesteps, no longer straddling Skinner's legs. As he shifts to the side his heavy booted foot comes down on Skinner's wirerims, crushing them. Short Man turns away from the prone DD. Tall Man steps back against the door, but his rifle is still held at the ready.
"Please...what do you want with my son?" Scully asks, her voice subdued but strong.
Short Man walks away from the bed and stands near Tall Man at the door. When he reaches him we can hear the sound of people walking downstairs. Suddenly there's the crash of breaking glass and Scully struggles to suppress a frown as Short Man replies.
"To be honest...I thought I knew what we wanted with him. Now I am not sure. We await...further expert opinion...which should arrive soon," Short Man replies, addressing us all.
Before anyone can say anything else, there's a knock on the door.
"Password," Short Man barks toward the door, taking his Glock out of its holster. He tabs the safety without taking his eyes off us. The gun comes up to point in our direction. Tall Man moves aside, the rifle trained on the door.
A muffled voice slaughters the pronunciation of the Rom word for wolf.
"Vyusher."
The Russian shakes his head at the gaff and calls out again.
"Come."
The door swings open.
Another short, but wiry man dressed in black enters. He's reclipping a two-way radio to his vest and carrying his rifle strapped to his back. His Glock's in the holster at his waist. Tall Man lowers his rifle and stands aside. The Russian lowers his Glock and addresses Wiry Man.
"Dah?"
"He's on the way," Wiry Man answers.
"How long?"
"An hour."
"Horosho," Short Man nods. He turns back to us and beams that dog snarl smile.
"Good. We will not have much longer to wait."
"I don't suppose you want to give us a hint about who's coming and what they want?" I reply, giving the short Russian a cheesy smile.
He smiles back with that predatory smile he gave me before.
"Patience is a virtue, Professor Mulder."
"I've been told that before."
Short Man chuckles a little and indicates his taller comrade.
"Stay here."
"You...come with me," he orders Wiry Man.
Tall Man returns the order with a curt nod and without further conversation, the short Russian and the Wiry Man exit the room. Walter, Scully and I sit bound and helpless. All we can do is stare at the silent Tall Man as he stands leaning against the door to the master suite.
xXx
For around 45 minutes we can hear the men searching the house again. The search seems to end up focused in our office once more and it sounds like there's urban renewal going on in there. We can hear Charlie as well. He's taken to the bathroom once, complaining the whole way about wanting to see us. A deep male voice tells him if he's a good boy, hurries up and takes a piss he can see Mommy, Daddy and Uncle Wall soon. Later we can hear him in the office talking about 'Daddy's com-pu-ter'. They must be desperate for information if they're asking the kid how to hack my laptop.
Tall Man's left his station at the door and parked his bony ass in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window. He hasn't said a word, he's just kept his rifle resting on his knees and his gray eyes trained in our direction.
Walter and Scully seem to be holding up, although both of them are clearly worried and as uncomfortable as I am. Walter's face is really bruised and swollen now. It must hurt like hell. I can tell Scully is trying to get circulation into her legs. She keeps flexing the muscles in her calves. Walter has been trying to do the same thing periodically. My arms and legs are cramping up so I know theirs must be too.
Suddenly Scully sighs and addresses Tall Man.
"I have to use the bathroom."
Tall Man ignores her.
"Hey...I said I have to use the bathroom," she repeats, barely containing the anger in her voice.
Tall Man looks at her as if she's grown two heads.
I shift in my bonds and I can see Walter out of the corner of my eye. He's gathering himself together to speak. I glance at him and shake my head. I'd rather he not take a rifle butt in the jaw in case this guy doesn't like the sound of his voice either.
"Listen, buddy." I address Tall Man and his head swivels in my direction.
"In case you haven't noticed...my wife's pregnant. Pregnant women have to pee...often. If she says she has to use the bathroom she's not lying. I'd suggest you honor her request."
"I can see she's pregnant, asshole. I've been instructed not to release you," he replies. He has a heavy New York accent.
Walter finally can't contain himself any longer. I wince a little as he clears his throat and struggles to reply with his swollen mouth.
"Oh come on...what's she going to do to you in her condition? Let her go to the bathroom for Christ's sake."
"The duct tape's over there on the other nightstand. You can tie her back up and no one will be the wiser," I quietly suggest, hoping to divert his wrath from Skinner.
Tall Man ignores me and his steely eyes center on Walter's face. Walter meets his gaze without flinching and I hold my breath. I fully expect the New Yorker to get up and smash him in the head.
Instead the Tall Man finally shrugs and rises, slinging his rifle over his back.
"Yeah...fuck it. I don't wanna be smellin' piss in here," he mumbles.
In a few strides he crosses to the opposite side of the bed from where Walter's bound to the nightstand. He stares down at Scully.
"I'm gonna let ya go...but I'm goin' with you. You make one false move and I'll put a bullet in one of these guys' kneecaps, you got me?"
"Yes," Scully answers, meeting his eyes straight on. Tall man gives Scully an appraising look as her blue eyes flash defiance. His mouth curves in a slight smile.
"I bet you'd rip my fucking throat out if I gave you a chance, bun in the oven or no bun in the oven."
Scully gives him a totally fake sweet smile and the tall New Yorker chuckles as he slings his ass onto the mattress.
Tall Man's comment about knee-capping Walter or me actually gives me a shred of hope. He didn't say he'd kill one of us. Oh sure, he's going to shoot to cripple...but he's just confirmed that they definitely want us all alive at least for now. I glance at Walter and can see he's thinking the same thing from the look in his eyes. So we've got some time...at least until our next uninvited guest arrives. Let's hope our time doesn't run out abruptly at that point.
The tall New Yorker slides over on the bed and pulls a knife out of a scabbard hanging from the back of his belt. He efficiently cuts through the duct tape on Scully's wrists and ankles and then slides back off the bed. His knife goes back in the scabbard. His rifle gets unslung and pointed at Scully.
"Ok. Slide off next to baldy and then start walking. I'll be right behind you."
Scully does as he instructs and in a few moments she and the Tall Man are across the suite and entering the en suite bathroom together. When Scully's completely inside, Tall Man stops in the doorway and leans against the open door, gazing into the bathroom.
Walter's jaw is locked in anger and I shake my head in disgust. The guy really isn't going to give her any privacy. It doesn't really surprise me...but it makes me as mad as hell anyway.
"Give her some privacy," I hiss at the Tall Man just before Walter can open his swollen mouth.
"No way," Tall man spits back without taking his eyes off Scully.
Walter whispers and my attention is drawn to him.
"Fuck him, Mulder. He's not worth it. Look...they must think we all know something about Charlie, otherwise we'd be dead by now."
I nod.
"Whoever is coming..." I start to hiss back.
"Shut the fuck up," Tall Man barks from the bathroom doorway.
"Come over here and make me," Walter snarls back.
I raise an eyebrow and look into Walter's eyes asking him with mine if he's crazy. He mouths the words 'keep talking' and I realize he's taking a chance at running a diversion for Scully.
Tall man takes his eyes off the inside of the bathroom and raises his rifle, pointing it at Walter.
"I don't hafta come over there to make you, baldy. Now be a good boy and shut your hole," the New Yorker warns venomously.
Walter hawks phlegm up out of his throat and then spits it out hard, the arc sending it straight toward the Tall Man. Of course it won't reach him...but it's the thought that counts.
"Three points," I chuckle as the gob of bloody spit lands beyond Walter's feet. Tall Man aims the rifle at me.
"You want some?" he growls, his cold eyes sizing me up.
I stare back at him blandly without answering and he pulls the rifle up.
"All right. Now...shut up or I swear I'll knee-cap ya both."
At his words, the toilet flushes and I give Walter a smile. Mr. 'New York, New York's' head swivels back around and he brings his rifle up as water runs in the bathroom sink.
"Show's over, fucker," Walter whispers and I smile at him again as Scully appears at the bathroom door.
xXx
The tall New Yorker allows Scully to move around a bit before he binds her up again. At first I think the guy's having a compassionate epiphany but then I consider that maybe he's just getting his rocks off watching a scantily clad pregnant woman trying to do a bend and stretch. Scully must sense his predilection as he gazes at her because she pulls her gray robe tighter and moves back toward the bed.
"Can I examine them?" she asks, indicating Walter who is bound at her feet and then me. "I'm a..."
"Doctor, I know. No. Get back on the bed."
Tall Man's reply is clipped as he trains his rifle at Scully from his position near the foot of the bed. Scully frowns but follows his orders, sitting on the edge of the bed and then with some difficulty sliding herself back onto the mattress. Tall Man slings his rifle over his back.
"I'm gonna tie your wrists and legs up again. Don't try anything funny," Tall Man snarls and Scully assumes her former position with her back leaning against the headboard. She tries to adjust the remnants of the old tape so that it doesn't pull on her skin, but the New Yorker is there too quickly, grabbing her wrists harshly.
"Hey!" Walter and I yell almost simultaneously.
Tall Man ignores us and efficiently wraps Scully's wrists and then her ankles with duct tape. Tossing the roll back on the nightstand he slides off the bed and starts to walk back over to the overstuffed chair.
"I hope that fucking holds you for a while. Now keep your mouths shut," he barks and just as he does there's a knock on the door.
Tall Man unslings his rifle and points it at the source of the sound.
"Password," he shouts.
"Vyusher."
The word's perfectly pronounced this time. The muscular Russian is outside.
"All right," Tall Man calls back in way of permission for Short Man to enter. He still keeps the rifle trained on the door however until it opens to reveal the short Russian. He and the Wiry Man step into the room. The Russian glances behind him and I know the third man...the man we've all been waiting for must be behind them both. I crane my neck around to try to see him. Walter suddenly shifts in surprise next to the nightstand and Scully can barely contain the sharp intake of breath as the man enters the room. He's dressed in the same basic black as the other men, but...he's unmasked, his identity clear to see.
Our new uninvited guest is Conrad Strughold.
I stare at him as he shoves his Sig Sauer back in a shoulder holster, my mouth parted slightly in disbelief. Shit.
He smiles and speaks in his refined German accent.
"I can see reports of my death were grossly exaggerated."
"Yeah, you could say that," I comment, watching him as he crosses the room to stand near the overstuffed chair.
I never met Conrad Strughold. During my abduction he was careful not to reveal himself. I only knew him through reputation after my return. He was supposedly killed in Tunisia. A burned body was found and his dental records matched the corpse. Obviously something was amiss there.
Walter and Scully watch the de facto head of the defunct Consortium intently. I can tell what's going through their minds. It's going through mine. We've been shown the identity of the ringleader of this operation. It may not herald a healthy future for any of us.
The Russian gestures for Wiry Man to shut the door. Tall Man and Wiry Man take up positions on either side of it, their rifles up and pointed at us again. The Russian walks over and leans casually against the window casing next to the overstuffed chair.
"I want to see my son," Scully declares as soon as Strughold takes a seat in the overstuffed chair.
"All in good time, Doctor Scully. Right now I want to ask you a few questions."
"Is this where you say if we answer truthfully things will go better for us?" I ask, trying to show more bravado then I'm really feeling.
"Professor Mulder...as I recall from reports submitted by my late...unlamented colleague, CGB Spender...you have a tendency toward sarcasm. I would warn you to curb that tendency," Strughold suggests, his benign tone belaying the barracuda ready to strike that lurks beneath his demeanor.
"I'll bear that in mind," I reply, capturing his eyes. His eyes are deceptively soft and surrounded by laugh lines. I bet he has grandchildren somewhere who hug him and call him grandpa. I hope they don't grow up to be wolves in sheep's clothing like this man.
"The Consortium is dead. You can't imagine it..." Walter begins.
"Ah...but Deputy Director Skinner," Strughold interrupts, holding up a finger and wagging it at Walter. "The Consortium as you refer to it may be dead...but it was never the only game in town."
Skinner is about to reply but Strughold shakes his head.
"Enough. I will ask the questions now. And Mr. Mulder...if you all answer truthfully I can't promise it will go better for you, but I can promise it will go better for your son...and I promise to give you some answers."
I study Strughold's bland face and can't help but marvel at the menace it conceals. His eyes could even be called mild-mannered if you didn't look closely...or didn't know what really lies behind them. But I do look closely...and I know him. I know now that for some unfathomable reason, he wants Charlie. I just don't know why. I can only hope he's not lying and will give us some answers...even if things don't go 'better' for us in the end. I wonder how many times I've wanted to know the truth even in the face of death? Too many times to count, I think with some irony as Scully speaks two decisive words.
"Then ask," she replies and Strughold inclines his head respectfully to her.
"Ja...and I will start with you," he smiles. Scully straightens on the bed and listens carefully as Strughold continues.
"Charles...Charlie is a smart boy, Ja?"
"I assume you know he's tested out at a genius level," Scully replies.
Strughold chuckles.
"Yes, you have me there. We know quite a lot about Charlie...and you, and Professor Mulder and Deputy Director Skinner. Including about your rather...novel relationship shall we say. But be that as it may...yes...we are aware of Charlie's unique intelligence."
"So your point is?" Skinner rumbles, studying Strughold.
"My point is, DD Skinner...I would like to know if his intelligence seems to be just natural brilliance...something that does after all come along once in a great while...or is it something more...something...alien?"
"Alien?" Scully replies, her brow wrinkling. "If you mean does he possess active alien DNA..."
When Scully hesitates to finish her sentence I suddenly realize, as she must, the reason Strughold wants Charlie. It rushes up and hits me like the rifle butt hit my jaw earlier. I glance at Walter and from the expression on his face I can tell he's getting the picture as well.
There's a subtle noise in the room. The sound of booted feet shifting as their owners are aware that we know their secret purpose.
"Ah...so my information about all three of you being formidable intellects is also not in error either I see," Strughold chuckles.
"You think Charlie has active alien DNA, that his intelligence is a result of it...and you suspect he's got psi talents as well," I state, my voice subdued.
"Ja, Professor Mulder...you've hit the ball out of the park as my grandson is so fond of saying. Charlie is the product of two parents who were both uniquely affected by alien DNA. He possesses that unique alien DNA himself as you know because you created the vaccine that kills the grays and the black oil with it. We are interested to find out if his DNA is indeed active and how his psi talents have developed thus far."
"How would he have psi abilities? He hasn't been exposed to anything that could activate them," I reply with a raised eyebrow.
Strughold gives me a speculative look.
"I realize your abilities were activated by the alien artifact, Professor Mulder. But you know as well as we do that Gibson Praise was born with his abilities. Nothing activated them."
I shift and give a slight nod. All right...he's got a point there, I concede. But Charlie hasn't shown any psychic talent...has he? I wrack my brain, pushing past the headache that still throbs behind my eyes, trying to think of anything he said or did that would indicate my son had even the first blossoming of ability in that area. Something is almost there...it's just on the tip of my tongue when Walter interrupts my train of thought.
"You think we're hiding that the kid's psychic?" Skinner asks, the incredulity in his voice palpable. "Why?"
"Oh come now, DD Skinner...why would you reveal it when it would attract attention to so many things here. After all...I would imagine you are not eager to have some parties find out that Doctor Scully is carrying your child. Your non-active alien DNA child I might add...since it cannot possibly inherit that unique trait with you as the father."
"I could care less who knows Dana is having my baby," Skinner snarls, his dark eyes flashing in anger.
Strughold chuckles.
"Nein? I guess I can almost believe that, Deputy Director. But I know you'd also consider the annoying and intrusive publicity and attention for the boy if it was discovered he was more special than even his genius intelligence indicates. Besides...as you all well know these talents are difficult to control and somewhat unpleasant for the one possessing them. It's easier to suppress them isn't it then let them have free rein?"
For a moment I speculate he must be referring to me and Gibson Praise this time. After all, nothing was pleasant about my experience with the activated alien DNA before I lost my abilities, and Gibson is the only one we know who is actively suppressing his mind reading capabilities. Then I consider whether Gibson, Frohike and Gayle are in a similar predicament tonight and my guts tense even more. My stray musings are once again interrupted by Skinner's gruff voice.
"Charlie's not psychic," Skinner growls, looking at Strughold pugnaciously. Scully shakes her head, taking it all in silently, her disbelief that the entire discussion is taking place clear on her face.
Strughold looks at me.
"He isn't. That's the truth,"
"Your truth, not mine. We shall see," he replies.
Scully is suddenly sitting up stiffly on the bed. I know what she's thinking because I'm thinking the same thing. Walter pulls on his bonds in impotent anger and I can feel my muscles flexing against the duct tape on my wrists and ankles as well in a futile effort to snap my fetters.
"You will not take my son," Scully insists, her voice tight. I can just see moisture gathering in her eyes and my throat clenches in anger and fear.
"Oh, but Dr. Scully, we can and we will," Strughold answers, his smile a mockery of an expression of friendship. "For you see...Charlie may be a rare commodity and there are those in the military industrial complex who will pay very well for his talents...if we can confirm for sure that he possesses them. And I'm willing to gamble he does. Because as I told DD Skinner...the Consortium wasn't the only game in town. And it certainly wasn't the one that paid the highest."
"Should I get the boy?" the Russian asks, scratching at his chin through the material of his hood.
"Ja...I think it is about time you did," Strughold replies without looking at him.
xXx
Before Charlie is brought down to the bedroom, Strughold allows his men to release us from our duct tape bonds. Walter and I are given permission to use the bathroom under supervision. Then Walter is allowed at gunpoint to put on a pair of sweat pants. Strughold consents to Scully helping Skinner clean the blood off his face, shoulder and chest. Finally the Wiry Man helps us to pull the sticky leftover duct tape off our wrists and ankles. The process isn't pleasant as the tape pulls at our skin and hair. The whole process seems surreal however. It's as if Strughold wants us to look as normal as possible for Charlie's arrival. I almost laugh out loud over that idea. Somehow with Walter's bloody and black and blue face and my bruised and discolored jaw I think the kid's going to get the idea something's a little bit off.
Scully is instructed to sit on the bed. Walter and I are instructed to seat ourselves and we each take one of the overstuffed chairs that sit in front of the windows. The Tall Man pulls the drawn curtains aside slightly and peers out at the street as we sit down.
"It's still clear," he mumbles to Strughold as the German leader of the group turns the straight-backed chair we keep in the room around and straddles it, facing all of us.
"Good. Now you can get the boy," he finally pronounces, directing the order to the Russian. "And tell your two comrades downstairs to stay out of the liquor cabinet and keep alert." The short Russian gives a business-like nod and exits the room.
"Stand over there," Strughold orders Wiry Man and Tall Man with a gesture toward the suite door. They comply by taking a position on either side of the door, their rifles held loosely in their hands.
The tension in the room buzzes like the build up of ozone in the air before an electrical thunderstorm. No one speaks for several minutes and then we hear footsteps coming back up the hallway. There's a pair of them, one pair much lighter then the other. Charlie's petulant voice reaches our ears as well.
"I want to see Mommy, Daddy and Uncle Wall."
"I told you I was taking you to them," the short Russian replies in his thickly accented voice.
"You talk funny and you lie," Charlie observes, his voice full of affronted dignity.
"Da? Well you are annoying and you have a voice like a screaming rabbit in pain...so shut up and keep walking," the Short Man growls in reply.
That's my boy, I think in a brief moment of fatherly pride.
"I am going to ask the boy some questions," Strughold quietly advises. "If I can't get the answers then I will want all of you to ask the boy...to insist he answer and tell the truth."
"And if you can't get the truth?" Scully asks her voice barely audible.
"Then we will have to...probe deeper."
"What the hell does that mean?" Walter asks, his voice tense.
"We shall see after the questioning," Strughold replies giving Skinner a cursory glance.
"He hasn't exhibited any psi ability," I insist again.
Before Strughold can answer me the Russian is knocking on the door.
"Password," Strughold calls out.
"Vyusher," the Russian replies.
"Come."
Tall Man and Wiry Man move back slightly with their rifles aimed at the door. When the door opens, Charlie walks cautiously into the room. He's still dressed in his blue, Winnie the Pooh print pajamas with the feet in them. The Russian is behind him with his hand on Charlie's shoulder. He gives our son a little shove into the room.
"See...I told you," the Russian says with a self-satisfied tone, assuring Charlie that what he said about taking him to see us was true.
I'm the first in Charlie's line of sight and any bluster that he was trying to show to our captors disappears. He runs silently across the room, throws himself on me and buries his head in my stomach. The Russian crosses the room and walks over to stand next to Walter's chair. It's clear where he thinks the greatest threat will come from. He watches Walter carefully. Scully makes a move to get off the bed but Strughold shakes his head at her and she remains where she's sitting. Her face shows her ache to hold our son.
"It's all right, honey," she says, her voice as steady as she can make it.
"It's ok, it's ok," I murmur, pulling Charlie up into my lap. He hides his head in my shoulder and I can feel the dampness of tears as he starts to sniffle and cry.
"Oh, now, now. Where's that brave, defiant young man my men told me about," Strughold comments
"You bastard," Walter hisses at Strughold.
The Russian backhands Skinner across the face without a second's hesitation. Walter's head flies back and blood trickles anew from the corner of his lip. When his head comes back around, he's breathing hard, struggling with himself not to stand and strike back. The Russian's eyes dare him to do so.
Strughold goes from mild mannered jocularity to fury in an instant.
"Nein! ENOUGH!" he angrily shouts at the Russian. Then he lowers his voice to a vehement hiss. "I will have no more violence. That is not the way to handle this situation now and you know that."
Charlie jerks against me at Strughold's shout and glances in the German's direction.
"Make sure he doesn't hurt my Uncle Wall again," Charlie mumbles, squeezing my neck tight.
"He won't, Leibchin...don't worry," Strughold assures Charlie. "Get Deputy Director Skinner a Kleenex...Comrade," he orders the Russian with quiet intensity.
The short, muscular Russian scowls and advances over to the dresser to curtly pull a handful of Kleenex out of the dispenser there. He crosses back over to Walter's chair and extends his hand.
"Wipe his face," Strughold adds, smiling his predatory smile at the Russian.
Skinner sits utterly still and the Russian does as he's told, delicately and carefully cleaning all the blood from Skinner's chin and the corner of his mouth.
"Danke. Now go stand next to the others." Strughold gestures for the Russian to move away from Skinner and stand by the door with the other two men. Charlie watches as the Russian frowns but does as Strughold orders. "Now...see. He helped your Uncle Wall and he's not near him any longer," Strughold adds with a sunny smile.
"I want to hug my Mommy and Uncle Wall too," Charlie tells the German. He takes his head off my shoulder and gently touches my swollen jaw. His eyes ask if it hurts and I give him a game smile, take his hand and squeeze it to comfort him.
"By all means," Strughold replies, inclining his head toward first Walter and then Scully.
Charlie hugs me one last time and breaks away, going to Skinner's chair first since it's closer than the bed. Charlie's eyes are huge as he stares at Walter's injured face. He grabs Skinner's knee and then hesitates. It's as if he's afraid he'll hurt him more if he hugs him.
Skinner shakes his head at him.
"It's all right. I'll be ok. Come here, champ," he reassures him through his split lip. Charlie carefully climbs onto his lap and they hug each other tight. "Now go see your mom."
Charlie nods and slides off Skinner's legs.
He runs over to the bed, climbs up and scoots over next to Scully. She gathers him close and Charlie buries his head in her chest.
"I love you, honey. Mommy's here now," she murmurs into his hair.
"These men are mean. I want them to leave," Charlie whispers.
"I know, honey...I want them to leave too," Scully whispers back.
Before anyone can say anything else, the muscular Russian's two-way radio squawks static into the silence.
"Manticore to Vyusher, Come in. Over."
The Russian pulls the device away from his shoulder and speaks into it.
"Vyusher, over."
"The Snow Queen is in hand. Repeat...the Snow Queen is in hand, over."
"Good. What about the March Hare? Over."
"Not yet. We're still working on him. Over."
"All right. Report again when you have the March Hare. Over."
"Right. Over and out."
I glance at both Scully and Skinner. Skinner clears his throat and Scully squeezes Charlie a bit tighter. It's clear to both of them as it is to me, that we aren't the only ones in trouble this evening. That we may not be the only ones losing a child tonight.
The Russian places his two-way radio back on its shoulder rig, tilts his chin at it and raises an eyebrow at Strughold.
"Gut," Strughold replies with a curt nod. Then he turns his attention to Charlie. The Russian resumes a watchful stance at the door.
"Young Charlie...I am sorry if my men upset you. And we want to be gone too. So..."
Strughold rises from his seat and walks over to the bed slowly, making his movements gentle as Charlie turns his head to watch him.
"So...if you will now answer a few more questions for me...we can be away from here."
I observe Charlie cuddling close to Scully with her protective arm around his little shoulders and I can't imagine how I can explain to my son that Mommy and Daddy used to deal routinely with these types of men and as a result we've brought danger into his life. God...I regret this so much. How can I tell my child that Strughold is going away all right...but he's going to take Charlie with him. How can I make him understand that he needs to cooperate with these bastards to save him undergoing pain and possibly death when it may mean the death of his parents and beloved uncle? I can't protect him. There's no way any of us can make a move in here with all this firepower trained on us. I feel so impotent and useless. I can only hope Charlie does as they want...I can only encourage him to cooperate...and the idea's making me sick to my stomach.
"I don't wanna answer," Charlie mumbles, turning his face back into Scully's breast.
Strughold sits carefully down on the edge of the bed opposite where Charlie and Scully are sitting.
"Doctor Scully...perhaps you can convince Charlie that answering the questions is a good idea, Ja? That it won't be much trouble?"
The German smiles at Scully and my blood runs cold. She looks past Strughold into my eyes and all I can do is show her in mine how much I love her and Charlie both.
"Give her...give them a minute," I tell Strughold, trying to keep the snarl out of my voice.
Walter's jaw is so tight you can practically hear the muscles thrumming from the strain. A subtle move of protest on his part and the Russian takes a menacing step forward. Strughold makes a cutting motion with his hand and glares at both the Russian and Skinner. The Russian steps back with a somewhat amused expression on his face. Walter composes himself as best he can, his face a study in masked wrath.
Scully fixes Strughold with a look that says she'll cooperate but she hates his guts. He tips his head with a wry twitch of his lips, acknowledging her emotions. He's nothing if not pragmatic, I think. He knows he engenders hatred...and he just doesn't give a shit.
"Bitte," Strughold prompts. "Please."
Scully straightens again. Her emotions play across her face. She's not sure what to say either, and even if she did, she wants no part in urging our son to cooperate with his kidnappers and his parents' potential murderers. Finally she takes a deep breath, lets it out and quietly speaks.
"Charlie." She strokes our son's head. "I know you're upset and afraid. But these men do want to ask their questions. I think it might help if you answered a few more of them. Can you try, honey? Please."
"Will it stop them from being mean?" Charlie asks, looking up at Scully's face.
I can see the tears welling up in Scully's eyes.
"Yes, sweetheart. They won't be mean if you answer the questions."
It's a lie and I think Charlie knows it as he studies Scully's face. Her tears trickle down her face and I know they're more than showing Charlie the gravity of the situation.
Charlie takes a moment longer and then he turns his head and looks at me.
"Daddy?" he asks quietly.
"I think you have to try, Captain Mulder," I reply, my voice raw. "You're...you're a good, brave boy. I know you can do it."
My desolation is complete. I just asked my son to be a collaborator. I feel like a fucking Judas.
Charlie bites at his lip a little and then he turns back to Scully.
"Ok," he nods. Scully hugs him hard. He hugs her back and then pushes away from her. Charlie turns around and curls his legs up Indian style. He leans back against the headboard and crosses his arms across his chest. My son's scowl is so much like Walter Skinner's 'DD face' that I feel laughter bubbling crazily up in my chest.
Strughold's lips do form an amused smile for a moment.
"So, young Charlie..."
"What's your name? You know my name...I want to know yours," Charlie interrupts, fixing Strughold with a serious look.
"Ah...of course. My name is Conrad," Strughold replies not unkindly. "And now...you are willing to answer my questions?" he confirms.
Charlie nods.
"All right. Danke. That means thank you in German."
"And bit-te means please," Charlie replies, his voice strong.
"Yes, right. You are a very bright, observant young man. Let me ask you, young Charlie...do you think you're very smart?"
"I guess so," Charlie replies, studying the German.
"Being smart is being special, isn't it?"
"Special?"
The German considers the boy's response for a second.
"Fun. Easier to get along because people treat you well. Better because you make interesting conversation with them. They want to do things with you and for you maybe because they like being around you."
"I guess," Charlie replies a little confused.
"If you could be more special, that would be even more fun, would it not?"
Charlie shrugs.
"If you were more special, maybe people would give you things you really want. Like that puppy you mentioned to my Russian comrade when he asked you about the pictures of dogs in your bedroom."
"I want a puppy," Charlie answers honestly.
The men in the room all chuckle. Walter, Scully and I remain silent, straining to follow where Strughold is going with this line of questioning. Charlie looks around and frowns a little at the men laughing at him.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Charlie. They are decidedly not special...and they know nothing of how much special boys want a puppy of their own. So, if being more special meant getting a puppy that would be good then?"
Charlie fearlessly captures Strughold's eyes.
"I want a puppy...but I want you to be gone more. I'll be more special if you'll leave my Mommy, Daddy and Uncle Wall alone."
Pride in my son fills my heart at the same time tears choke my throat. Scully puts her head down, unable to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks at our son's words.