Disclaimer:  The characters of the X Files belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.  I've 
only borrowed them to feed the obsession.

This piece of fan fiction is dedicated to our friend, "Dr. Rock".  She was a supportive 
reader, courageous and kind.  We miss her.



THE JOURNEY
BY STORM


Being a doctor, it wasn't necessary for Scully to be one of those gathered in the waiting room 
worried and uninformed of their loved one's condition.  She walked briskly into the emergency 
room and demanded to see the doctor in charge.  When Dr. Fu, a young Chinese man, 
appeared, blinking behind large spectacles, Scully said, "Hello, I'm Dr. Dana Scully.  Fox 
Mulder is my partner in the FBI and I want to know his condition."  She shook hands with the 
man, and then stood waiting, her arms crossed over her chest.  Her unconscious tapping of her 
foot on the linoleum was the only indication of her increasing agitation.

"Certainly, Dr. Scully," Dr. Fu said, studying her credentials.  He led her over to the nurses' 
station and opened Mulder's file.

"Agent Mulder was brought in early this morning in a comatose state.  So far, we have found 
nothing wrong with him that could have brought it on."

"It has nothing to do with brain activity?"  She quickly updated him on Mulder's trouble earlier 
in the year.  Dr. Fu shook his head.  

"All brain scans were normal."

"Who brought him in?" Scully demanded, thrown by the information he had given her.  The only 
reason she had known that Mulder was here was because of the note in his wallet asking that 
she be informed in case of an emergency.  They had called her, but refused to give her any 
information over the phone.  She had rushed here as fast as possible, and now stood with her 
mouth open, staring at Dr. Fu.

"A man brought him in and then disappeared," Dr. Fu told her now. "We don't have his name.  
He just told us that Agent Mulder worked for the FBI."

As if on cue, AD Walter Skinner came through the electric doors, his trench coat flying behind 
him.  He spotted Scully and came forward.

"What's going on, Agent Scully?" he demanded.

Scully put her hand to her head.  "I wish I knew, sir.  Mulder is here and in a coma, and the 
man that brought him in left without giving any information other than that Mulder worked for 
the FBI."  She wished that she had kept tabs on what Mulder had been working on these past 
few weeks, but she had been embroiled in a case that Skinner had asked her to work on a 
month ago.  She had just wrapped it up.

 "I want to see him," she said now.  Dr. Fu nodded and led her and Skinner to a corner where a 
curtain was pulled to hide the bed behind it.  He motioned for her to go on in, and, glancing 
first at Skinner, she pulled the curtain back to find an unconscious Mulder hooked to several 
monitors.  The beat of his heart was steady, and Scully moved forward to clasp his hand in 
hers.  She thought that he looked thinner, and had lost some of the color in his face.

"Mulder?"  She said, leaning down close to him.  "Mulder, it's me.  Can you hear me?"  There 
was no response, and Scully bit her lip, sending a look back in Skinner's direction.  His face was 
unreadable.

"I don't know of a case he's been working on," she finally said, a question in her tone.  Skinner 
shook his head.  

"I don't know either, Agent.  Mulder asked for a few weeks off for personal reasons awhile 
back.  Things were slow on the X Files, and you were busy with the Vienna case.  I granted it to 
him and haven't heard from him since.  You haven't spoken with him?"

Scully frowned.  She had spoken to him a handful of times over the past few weeks, and that 
mostly pertained to the case she was on.  But in the last seven or eight days, she had noticed 
that he seemed withdrawn.  She had visited his apartment a week ago, in order to keep in 
touch.  Mulder was sensitive, for all his bravado, and she knew that he didn't have anyone 
looking after him other than himself.  If something were bothering him, it would fester until it 
seeped into everything around him, and if she didn't make a point of keeping in touch with 
him, she knew he wouldn't presume to bother her.

That day he had been working on his computer and seemed preoccupied. When she'd 
questioned him, he'd merely said that he was working on his family genealogy.  Scully had been 
surprised, but chalked it up to the fact that his mother had recently died and he'd found out 
his sister was more than likely dead, also.  (Scully had her personal reservations about his so-
called closure, but she wasn't about to mess with him if he had finally found the peace he had 
sought for so long.) She had felt that there must be more to it.  Some X File he had unearthed, 
but he wasn't willing to give her any information, so she didn't press. After a brief chat, she'd 
left, already late for a meeting.

She looked at Skinner now and related all of this to him.  Neither one of them could think what 
might have happened to Mulder to put him in his present condition.

"I'm going to his apartment," she finally said, pulling her coat on.  "Maybe I can find a clue as 
to who the man was that brought him in."

"Sounds like a good idea, Agent.  Call me when you know anything."

Scully promised she would, and with a last worried glance at her partner, she left the hospital.

Mulder's apartment was dark when she entered it, so she opened the blinds to allow the 
morning sun to seep in.  Dust gathered in the air and Scully sneezed violently.

"Geez, Mulder...you could at least dust every once in awhile!"  she muttered, forgetting her 
worry a moment as she shifted a pile of clothing off the desk chair and placed it on the couch.  
It was all rumpled, and she couldn't really tell if it was dirty or clean. Mulder probably brought 
it up from the laundry room like that and just took from it what he needed as the week went 
on.  She shook her head and took a seat in front of the computer, booting it up.  Deftly, she 
entered Mulder's password and glanced around for anything she thought could be a newly 
opened X file.  She hated to nosily go through his emails, but in such a situation, she hadn't 
really a choice.  She scanned the list.  Several were from the Lone Gunmen; a couple were 
from her during the past week.  There was one from Hot Hips...Scully didn't want to go there.  
He probably indulged in email-sex, if there was such a thing.  She felt pretty certain that if 
there was, Mulder would root it out.

Suddenly, Scully heard a noise from the bedroom.  She stiffened and her hand went to her gun, 
sliding it out of its holster.  Slowly, she stood up.  

"Who's in there?" She demanded.  Quiet.  Scully moved toward the bedroom door.  "I hear you 
in there, so come out with your hands up!  I have a gun!"

After a pause, she heard another noise and a man appeared in the doorway, his hands in the 
air.  He was a small, dark man in his sixties, Scully approximated. He was dressed in a hodge-
podge of clothing; a model for a Good Will store.

"Who are you?" she asked roughly.

He looked at her.  "Are you Agent Scully?"

Her eyes narrowed.  "Who are you?" she asked again.

"I'm Dr. Reginald Johns.  A friend of Agent Mulder's."

"I've never heard of you," Scully said, still pointing the gun at him.

"Well, I've heard of you.  Actually, I was looking for Agent Mulder's address book.  Your 
number is unlisted."

"For good reason," she said.  "Why would you want to call me?"

Reginald Johns eased his hands down a bit.  "I am the one who took Agent Mulder to the 
hospital this morning. He told me that you were the only person he trusted, so when things 
went awry, you were the one I thought to call."

Scully's grip on the gun eased up a bit.  "Dr. Johns..."

"I am a professor specializing in molecular science.  Agent Mulder and I met a few months ago 
at Safeway."

Leave it to Mulder to meet kooks at the grocery store and hook up with them.
Scully put her gun back in its holster.  "What happened to Agent Mulder, Dr. Johns?  Why is he 
in the condition he's in?  And why did you leave him?"  Her voice was tinged with anger.

"Very few people know of my studies, but Agent Mulder has done quite a bit of reading on the 
subject.  He recognized me from my book jacket...although I have not written a book on the 
science that he was interested in exploring."

Scully raised an eyebrow.  "And that would be...."

"Time travel," Dr. John replied.

Scully sat across from Dr. Johns at Mulder's kitchen table, sipping the coffee she had made 
them.  She didn't know what to think of this man, but he was her only link to what had 
happened to Mulder.

"Agent Scully," he said, putting his cup down, "Agent Mulder told me that you are a skeptic.  
He wanted to try time travel himself before telling you about it.  He seemed intrigued by an 
ancestor he had unearthed who owned a castle in England and had the same name as he.  I told 
him that everything had not been ironed out and that it was a very dangerous thing to try, but 
he had insisted." He looked away from her, guilt etched on his features.  "I should have 
refused, but he was so eager...and after twenty years of work, I wanted to know if it could 
really be done. I tried it once, but I've begun to doubt my own experience."  He looked back at 
Scully, his eyes wet behind his spectacles.  "To be honest, after years of being called a lunatic, 
it was very nice to have someone believe in my theories."

Scully felt herself softening toward the man.  She could well imagine that Mulder had been 
supportive and kind to him.  She was certain that he breathed new life into the idea when it 
was probably getting to be too much for the old man.  Only, why did Mulder have to be so 
damned impulsive?  He had gone and done something stupid.  The process had probably altered 
something within him and brought the coma on.  She was feeling more and more scared for 
him.

"Tell me exactly what happened," she said to the doctor.

"Agent Mulder wanted to go to a specific year...the year that the Lord of Norcross was the same 
age that he is.  He wanted to see what this ancestor was like.  He had been doing extensive 
research on his family tree, and when he had unearthed this man, it intrigued him.  Actually, it 
was Lord Mulder's younger brother that was the direct descendent to your Agent Mulder.  And 
therein lies the twist."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Johns placed the spoon in his coffee and stirred it while choosing his words.  "Evidently, 
the transfer worked and Agent Mulder found himself in Lincolnshire, England in 1863. But 
something happened when he appeared there.  One of the reasons I came here was to look at 
his research."  He took a small notepad out of his pocket and showed it to Scully. "What I have 
pieced together is that Lord Fox Mulder was supposed to die that day in an accident. Agent 
Mulder obviously didn't have the fact in mind when he was choosing a date. Something 
happened when Agent Mulder appeared that prevented the accident from happening, and he 
altered history. The younger brother was supposed to take over as Lord of the Castle and 
therefore be eligible to marry the Lady Kate Winthrop.  It is from their seed that today's Fox 
Mulder descended. He really no longer exists...  I fear that Agent Mulder doesn't have long to 
live."

Scully lay awake all that night thinking.  She didn't believe in time travel, but she couldn't 
afford not to be prepared in case it worked.  Dr. Johns had told her that Mulder's only hope 
was that she travel back to that time and make certain that Lord Mulder dies.  It was 
imperative to history that he dies so that his younger brother could inherit the castle and 
therefore be eligible to marry the Lady Kate Winthrop.  Their union led directly to the Mulder 
she knew.  History tells it that Lord Mulder died on his horse.  The appearance of the modern 
day Mulder somehow prevented that and kept him alive.  The younger Mulder did not inherit 
the castle, could not take Lady Winthrop as his wife, and did not have the children with her 
that led to the Mulder family of today.  Scully needed to go to the time just after Mulder had 
been there and kill him so that these things could take place as they were meant to.  

She shuddered.  Could she do it?  Kill someone in cold blood?  She and Dr. Johns had discussed 
it at length, even though Scully was reluctant to believe that it was possible.  He would 
prepare her for her journey by giving her the correct clothing to wear.  She would go and 
somehow gain access to the castle and kill him.  Then she would find the portal that she came 
through and come back to the present.  At that point, Mulder should come out of his coma.  
She had to do it for Mulder.

When morning finally came, Scully showered and dressed and went to the hospital.  Mulder was 
in a room in intensive care.  His bare arms lay lifeless on the white sheets and Scully ran her 
fingers up one of them, feeling the soft hairs growing there.  She was reminded of his comatose 
state earlier in the year when he had had the erratic brain activity.  She had left him then to 
find the cure, and she would do it again.

Pulling a chair closer to the bed, she sat down and leaned her head against his.

"Mulder, I'm going back to that time in England.  I-I don't see how it's possible, but I still have 
the strength of your beliefs.  I'll go there and make certain that that ancestor of yours dies like 
he is supposed to, and then everything will be all right.  Just hold on."  She leaned over and 
pressed her lips to his temple, feeling his pulse there. Nuzzling him one last time, she stood 
up.

She  left the hospital and drove to Rockville, Maryland where Dr. Johns lived.
His house was old and falling apart.  Inside, it looked as you would expect a house to look when 
the person living there has an obsession and no time to care for it.  Dr. Johns took great pains 
to try to explain the scientific aspect of time travel, but to Scully it seemed to mostly be based 
on the supernatural rather than the tangible facts of science.  

He gave her a dress to put on, and Scully went to the bathroom to change into it.  It took her 
awhile to figure out all the hooks on the bodice of the undergarment. It was a corset and had 
an underskirt that tied over it.  The dress itself buttoned all the way to her neck.  At least it 
was a flattering shade of blue.  A pair of pantaloons completed her attire, along with some 
button top boots.  Dr. Johns had taken great pains to dress her for the era, and to have a 
couple of changes of clothing packed in a carpet covered bag.  When she appeared from the 
bathroom, he looked her over.

"I think you will fit in well, Agent Scully," his eyes grew misty.  "I pray that all goes well with 
you...I feel bad enough about Agent Mulder.  I should never have let him go."

Scully touched his arm.  "You couldn't have stopped him Dr. Johns, believe me.  Now, what do 
I do when I get there?" She still wasn't ready to truly believe she was going anywhere at all.

Dr. Johns removed his spectacles and wiped them with his handkerchief.  "You should arrive 
outside the castle gates.  You must find a way in.  Perhaps you could claim to have lost your 
way and need a place to stay for the night.  Just find a way in and find a way to kill him. Don't 
worry too much about time because I don't think it is the same as it is in the here and now.  
Several days may go by in the past, yet only an hour here.  That has been my experience."

Scully looked at him. "Have you made the journey?" she asked.

"Yes, once.  I traveled to the turn of the century.  It was amazing.  But I am not the bravest of 
men, and I began to fear I couldn't return.  I had no problem in that respect, though, because I 
remembered where the portal was that I entered.  That is something you must make sure that 
you do, Agent Scully.  Take note of the precise spot you are in.  The alteration in your 
molecules should cue the portal should you pass through it again and you will return.  Make 
certain, though, that you have killed him first, or Agent Mulder will surely die."

Scully nodded.  She was happy to hear about the time difference, because she worried that her 
deed could not be done quickly.  She had told Skinner that she was going to do some 
investigating into what Agent Mulder had been looking into, but she knew he would expect a 
report from her sooner or later.

She took a deep breath.  "All right, Dr. Johns...I'm ready."

Dr. Johns put his hand up.  "Now wait, we have to speak about a couple of things."  He studied 
her.  "For one, your hair...it's too short."  He went to a closet and pulled out a box, rummaging 
in it.  "And also, your accent...can you do a British accent?"

Scully frowned.  "I don't know...," She said uncertainly.  She began trying it out.

Dr. Johns grimaced.  "Well, you will have to think up some reply when they ask you about it.  
You don't exactly sound like you're from London."

Scully was getting a little ticked off.  She was anxious to get this whole thing over with so 
Mulder would be okay.

"Don't worry about it, Dr.  Let's get on with things."

He found what he was looking for and turned around triumphantly.  In his hand was a long, red 
fall of hair.

"What in the hell is that?"  Scully demanded.

"It's a fall, my dear.  You'd never be able to explain that short hair of yours.  Now sit down, sit 
down." He motioned her to a chair.  Scully reluctantly moved over to it and sat.  He began 
taking bobby pins out of a tin and smoothing her hair with a brush.  Bit by bit, he tucked up her 
hair and attached the fall while she held a mirror up to her face watching.  She had to admit it 
looked rather nice.  He curled it into a wide roll at her neck and secured it with more bobby 
pins.  Then he took a black snood and pulled it over the roll.  

"Done!"  He stepped away and Scully moved the mirror back and forth, admiring his work.  "I 
hope I can duplicate it," she finally said.

"Now, come, my dear, it is time for you to take your journey."

Scully took a deep breath as Dr. Johns led her into a dark room.  It was so black and dense that 
she couldn't see her hand in front of her face.  She suddenly felt fear inching up her neck...here 
she stood, dressed like an English woman from the 1800's, standing in the dark with a man she 
barely knew. He could do anything to her!  She didn't even have her gun.  Her gun!  She would 
need that.

"Wait, Dr. Johns...I forgot something."  She rushed out of the room and into the bathroom 
where she had left her clothes.  Pulling her gun out of the holster, she felt its heaviness in her 
hand and instantly calmed.  She walked back to the doctor, who now stood in the doorway 
holding her bag.  

"Put it in here," he said.  "But if you possibly can, avoid killing him in that manner.  That is 
much more violent and too different from what was supposed to happen."

Scully looked at him.  "So...I should push him in front of a carriage or something?"

"I don't know my dear...I don't have all the answers.  Just be careful."  He turned and walked 
into the darkened room again.  She followed, sighing.  She wasn't at all sure that this would 
work anyway.  Time travel...ridiculous!  At least if she did as Mulder had, she might discover 
what had happened to him.  She would do anything to help him.

She bumped into Dr. John's back as he stopped abruptly.  "Sorry," She murmured.

"Drink this," he pressed a cup into her hand.

"What is it?"

"It will prepare your cells molecularly for the change."

Scully bit back the reply that was dying to get out.  Her scorn for this idea was building to the 
breaking point.  Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she drank the liquid that was thick and 
syrupy on her tongue.  It tasted like iron.

Licking the last of it off her lips, she asked, "What now?"

"Simply walk through this portal, my dear..."

"Portal?"  Scully felt him take her by the hand and lead her a few steps.  She stumbled, and 
lifted her foot up, stepping over something.

"Dr. Johns?" She inquired as a surge bordering on electric shock raced through her.

"God bless you, Dana!"  She heard him call to her as though from very far away.

Scully felt her head spinning and she grasped it with one hand, holding onto her bag with the 
other.  Her knees felt weak and she fell to them, fighting the odd jolts of electric shock she 
was feeling.  What was happening to her?

She was lying on the cold, frosted ground.  Scully felt the cold air squeezing her lungs at every 
breath.  Her eyes fluttered open and she saw someone looking down upon her, framed against 
the azure blue of the sky.  Why was she outside?  She pushed herself up to a sitting position.  
The man standing above her crouched down and looked at her.  "Miss are your all right?"  His 
accent was definitely English.  Scully stared at him in wide-eyed wonder.  He was tall, lean, 
and dark.  We wore a long black coat and held a black top hat in his hand.  His white shirt was 
ruffled and buttoned to his neck.  Her eyes rested on his face.  His eyes were green and 
soulful, his nose long and his lower lip full and familiar.  He looked amazingly like Mulder...he 
could be a brother.  Scully sucked air in at the realization and turned her head to look around 
her.  She was surrounded by English moorland.  Wind whipped around them and far into the 
distance she could both here and see the sea below jutting crags of rock.  Was she dreaming?  
Hallucinating?  She began to berate herself mentally for drinking what Dr. Johns had given her.

"Are you all right, Miss?" The man said again, his voice deep and unfamiliar.  He offered her a 
hand, and she took it, staggering as she stood.

"I found you here on the ground.  I think you've been here awhile..." He gestured to her dress, 
which was covered with frost.  Her bag lay on the ground.  Scully looked all around her once 
more and spotted the castle in the distance.  Her mouth dropped open at the magnificence of 
it.  She couldn't believe it...she was here!  Yet, she had to be sure.  

Doing her best to put on a British accent, she asked, "What year is this?"

The man looked at her like she'd grown horns.  "Um, 1863, Miss..."

Scully grasped him by the arm, or else she might have fallen.

"Come," he said worriedly.  "The servants can warm you up."  Picking up her bag, he led her 
over to his horse, which was grazing nearby.  Scully stood looking at it, then looked at the man.

"I'm sorry, Miss.  My name is Albert.  Albert Mulder...that is our castle...Norcross." He pointed 
to it looming before them in the distance.  Swiftly, before Scully even knew what was 
happening, he lifted her onto the horse, sidesaddle.  A moment later he was seated behind her 
and she was holding on for dear life as they galloped toward Norcross.

Just past the gates, Albert dismounted and led the horse forward to a stableman.  He reached 
up and, grasping Scully by the waist, he brought her down.  She was disconcerted by all the 
hands-on attention she was receiving.

"What is your name?" he asked her, picking up her bag and leading her up the path.

Scully wasn't sure what to say.  She put her hand to her head, wondering if it would be best to 
feign amnesia.

"Uh...my name is Dana..." she tried to speak smoothly, but was so worried about her accent 
that it was difficult.  She felt as if she were in a dream.  Her skirts were confining, and the 
corset cut into her, making breathing difficult.  She hated these boots, and fervently hoped 
there were other shoes in the bag.  She glanced over at it.  She certainly wouldn't want Albert 
to see the gun tucked inside.  "I don't know how I got here.  I'm not feeling so well."

Albert peered at her.  He seemed shy and unsure of himself.  Scully imagined him to be the 
younger brother that Dr. Johns had spoken of.  The one who stood to inherit Norcross at Lord 
Mulder's death.  He was a direct descendent of her Mulder.  Scully smiled at the thought.  Her 
Mulder.  This brought her to the task at hand.  <Get a grip, Dana.  You have work to do!>

"I come from a small town the other side of London," she said, hoping that would explain any 
inconsistencies in her accent.  "I was traveling and something...happened to the carriage.  I just 
don't remember much else, I'm sorry."  She tried to sound vague and ladylike.  Albert seemed 
unlikely to press her.  

When they reached the door to the kitchens, a servant stepped out.

"Fetch the housekeeper, please," he told him and the man disappeared.  They stepped into the 
kitchen, which was warm from the ovens.  The smell of baking bread reached Scully's nostrils 
and she unconsciously sniffed and sighed.  Albert smiled.

"Hungry?  We'll fix you up."  The housekeeper, a woman with motherly eyes and of 
considerable stature for the time, appeared in the doorway.  

"Pravda," he said, motioning to her.  "Please get our guest a plate of food.  She has come to 
some mishap and is cold and hungry."  He led Scully over to the fire and helped her into a 
chair.
"You'll warm up in no time."  He patted her hand.  He was a kind man, and Scully couldn't 
help but like him.  Pravda gave the cook directions and then told an upstairs maid to go make 
up a room.  Scully just sat watching, feeling as though she'd stepped into a novel.

After a few moments, when the color began to creep into Scully's cheeks again, Albert stood 
and led her into the dining room.  Scully looked about at the high ceilings and velvet drapes 
that hung to the floor.  The table was long and narrow with candelabra placed all the way 
down the middle.  Tapestry that must have been hundreds of years old hung on the walls at 
intervals.  Scully sat in the plush chair that Albert pulled out for her, and he settled in one to 
her right, leaning back and watching as she began to eat the huge amount of food placed 
before her.

"Do you live here alone?"  She finally asked, taking a sip of cider.  She had to get right to her 
mission so that she could get back where she belonged.  She still couldn't believe this was 
happening to her.

Albert laughed; his smile wide and so like Mulder's that her heart skipped a beat.

"No, my brother Fox lives here, and my sister Nik.  But the huge amount of servants makes it a 
full house."

Scully felt the piece of meat she was chewing lodge in her throat at the mention of Fox Mulder.
She had to meet him.

She licked her lips. "It's so kind of you to take me in.  I-I feel so foolish not remembering 
before."

"Do you remember now?  It must have just taken some rest and warming up.  What's your full 
name?" Albert asked her.

"Dana Scully," she replied, trying hard to remember the accent.

"Scully...that's unusual.  Are you married?"

"Er, no...I took care of my sick father until his death recently.  He...he was a doctor, and I 
helped him."  Scully's mind raced, trying to think up a plausible story.  "I was on my way to 
see an aunt in Yorkshire...I thought that perhaps she could take me in as my father's 
house....burned down."

Scully winced.  Her story had more holes in it than one of the FBI practice targets.  She began 
stuffing food into her mouth so that she wouldn't have to talk anymore.

"Well, you can certainly stay here until you get your bearings.  I wonder what became of your 
coach..."

Scully shrugged, trying to smile with her mouth full.  Albert watched her and thought the poor 
lady was starving.  Perhaps she hadn't eaten in days....everything she owned must have been 
burned in the fire.  "Excuse me a moment, Miss Scully..."

"Please, call me Dana," she managed, after swallowing.  He bowed and left the room.  Calling 
to a maid in the hall, he ordered her to find a few things to put in Miss Scully's room that might 
fit her or that she might be able to use.  He returned to the dining room to find that she had 
gotten up and was looking at a picture over the mantel.  "That is my grandfather William.  He's 
dead now, but he was a grand fellow in his day."

Scully nodded, amazed at the resemblance to CGB Spender. It gave her chills.

"Let me show you to your room now, Dana.  You must be tired.  Take a rest and then you can 
have tea with us later on."

Scully nodded thankfully, picked up her bag, and followed him out.

"Let me carry that for you," he took it and Scully bit back the automatic retort that she could 
carry it herself.  She was not a modern woman here, after all.

As they walked through the long hall and began their ascent up the long, twisting stairway, 
Scully spoke, "Fox is a rather strange name.  Where did it come from?"

Albert looked a little embarrassed.  "Well, it is said that my brother was conceived during a fox 
hunt."

"Oh," Scully replied, wondering what Mulder would think about that. <He would probably like 
it> she thought with a smile. Albert stopped in front of a door and opened it, allowing Scully to 
pass before him.  She stepped into a comfortable room with double doors that led out onto a 
balcony that looked over the garden.  There was a fireplace that was lit, and a large canopy 
bed.  A small table beside it supported a candle and a bible.

Across the room was a long mirror on a stand and a dresser that had a pitcher and basin sitting 
upon it.  Scully noticed a gold brush and comb beside that, and a nightgown lay out on the bed.  
The open wardrobe held several dresses and some shoes.  She turned questioning eyes to 
Albert.

"The maid put some things out for you, since you lost most of your luggage."

"But to whom do they belong?"

"They belonged to my sister Samantha.  She died when she was 16."

Scully felt a shiver go down her back.  "I'm sorry.  How did she die, if I may ask?"

"In an epidemic.  Everyone had the fever, but Sam was frail and did not make it.  That same 
fever took our parents."

Scully was moved by the sadness in his voice.  She put her hand on his arm.  "That must have 
been hard on you and your brother and your other sister...you were left alone."

Albert nodded, looking at her thoughtfully.  "Fox was raised to take over the castle, and he 
was already a man.  He took care of us.  I'm afraid, though, that it has taken its toll on him."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a rather bitter man."  Albert fell silent.

"Will I meet him?"

"He is currently in London.  'Tis just as well."  He indicated the bed.  "Take a rest if you wish, 
and one of the maids will let you know when dinner is served."

Scully didn't think she'd ever be hungry again, but she smiled and thanked him.  When he'd 
left, she immediately took off the offending boots.  She kicked them into a corner and wrestled 
with the buttons on her dress.  With it was finally loose, she removed it and unhooked her 
corset.  It was so tight that her bosom stood out over it.  <How the hell did women stand 
wearing these> she thought.  When she'd freed herself, she put the gown on and lay down on 
the soft bed.  It had a feather mattress and felt heavenly, although Scully felt sure that her 
back would pay for it later.  She drifted into a peaceful sleep.

She was awakened sometime later to the sound of mayhem outside her door.  Jumping up, she 
threw it open.

A group of people were gathered together a few doors down.  Scully hurried on bare feet to the 
site of the commotion.  

"What happened?" She asked Albert, who was at the center of it all, bending over a woman 
who lay still and moaning on the floor.

He looked back at her over his shoulder.  "Nik has fallen.  She...she's had too much to drink 
again."

Scully knelt down and looked at the dark-haired girl.  The smell of whiskey almost knocked her 
off her feet. "Oh, I see."  

Nik lay there singing a song on one breath and moaning on the other.  Scully looked her over.

"I think her ankle is sprained," she said when her probing led to a yelp from the girl.  "Can you 
lift her, Albert, and take her to her bed?"

Albert did so, and when he had her comfortable, turned and asked Scully, "Are you a nurse, 
Dana?"

"I...well, I trained under my father, remember.  Anyway, if you can tear a sheet, I can make a 
bandage for her.  It would also help to put something cold on it."

Pravda the housekeeper left to take care of this.

"Thank you, Dana." Albert said, taking her arm.

"You're welcome," she smiled, meeting his eyes.  Then she noticed they were traveling down 
to her body, and she realized that she was quite unrespectabley dressed.  

She colored.  "Oh my...I'll  go dress for dinner."  She hurried off to her bedroom.


Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Scully was horrified to see how much of her body 
was visible beneath the thin white gown.  She should have grabbed her robe before leaving her 
room.  She sighed and lifted it off, then struggled all over again with the corset and skirts.  She 
was never happier to be a woman of the twenty-first century than at that moment. She 
discovered some slippers that fit her in the wardrobe, and was thrilled she didn't have to wear 
the offensive boots any longer.

As she entered the hall, she felt the draft immediately.  The stone walls were frigid.  She 
descended the stairs, taking in the torches lit high above her.  Coats of arms decorated the 
landing and Scully stood and studied them for a moment.  How interesting it would be to 
Mulder to see his family's history.  She knew he was all alone now that his mother was gone.  
When Scully had first learned that Teena Mulder had taken her own life, she was filled with 
anger at the woman for deserting her son.  Those feelings had healed a little, though, after 
learning of her debilitating disease.  She only wished that Mrs. Mulder had tried harder to speak 
with her son.
To be close to him.

Sighing, Scully smoothed her skirt and her hair and entered the dining room.

With every step that she took, she bemoaned her corset.  It was tight, it pushed her bosom 
uncomfortably high, and she found that she was unable to take more than shallow breaths.  She 
felt lightheaded.

Albert stood when she entered and pulled a chair out for her.  Another sumptuous meal was 
laid out before them.  The butler stood by his master, making sure that his every need was 
met.

Albert wiped his mouth with a linen napkin.  "You must tell Cookie that it was absolutely 
wonderful, Jasper," he said. He turned his green eyes on Scully.

"Are you feeling better this evening, Dana?"

She smiled.  "Oh, yes...I..."

A commotion in the hall cut her off mid sentence.  Albert stood and strode forward as Jasper 
opened the huge double doors that led into the great hall.  Pravda came forth.  

"Tis the master, sir, he's returned and is hurt!"

Cursing could be heard from the foyer and Scully followed Albert out into the hall and then into 
a side room that she realized upon entering was a study.  A maid quickly lighted a fire in the 
grate, and Scully's eyes were drawn to a corner where two groomsmen were settling a man 
onto a chair.  A black cloak was removed and handed to a servant behind them.  When they 
stepped aside, Scully gasped.  Lord Fox Mulder sat scowling and ordering everyone about.  He 
demanded some sherry.

Scully took in his appearance slowly, her eyes wide.  The black trousers and riding boots, the 
long black coat and white shirt...her eyes caught and held his face.  Although his hair was long 
and tied back with a ribbon, and his sideburns almost reached his chin, the man before her was 
the exact replica of Agent Fox Mulder.  Her breath caught in her throat and a wave of dizziness 
caused her to topple.  Damn these corsets, no wonder women were always fainting back then!  
Albert grasped her arm before she actually crumpled to the floor.  She held her head a moment 
until the feeling passed.

When she looked up, she met the cold gaze of Lord Mulder.

Through teeth gritted with pain, he demanded, "Leave it to a woman to faint in a crisis! And 
who might this be?" He directed his question to Albert.

Albert left her side and stepped beside his brother.

"Tis a lady left stranded on the moor, brother.  I brought her in this morning."

Lord Mulder's glance raked her body and left Scully feeling utterly naked.  A wave of pain 
seemed to take him and he grasped his shoulder.  Scully moved forward and, reaching out, 
pushed his coat back to where a large stain of blood could be seen.

Lord Mulder seemed taken aback at her temerity.

"You've been shot..." she said.

He pushed her hand away.  "Yes, if it is any of your business."  His voice was Mulder's, 
although edged with steel and clearly British.  Scully had heard her partner's voice take on that 
quality a handful of times over the years.  Suddenly she realized what had probably happened 
when Mulder had made his trip to the past.  He had appeared before Lord Mulder as his exact 
twin, shocking him so that the accident did not take place.  She looked into the eyes of the 
man before her who she knew she would have to kill.  Pain was etched in them along with a 
coldness that chilled her soul.

"I've sent for the Doctor, my lord," Pravda said from the door.  

"Dana can help now," Albert spoke up.  "Her father was a doctor and she knows medicine."

Scully stiffened.  Had her chance to kill him come so quickly?

Scully told the housekeeper what she would need, and when she returned, asked Albert to hold 
the lantern high for her.  Gently, she helped Lord Mulder to remove his coat and she 
unbuttoned his shirt.  His eyes never left her face, and she felt the heat rising in it.  <Damn 
this fair complexion> she thought, knowing he could see the effect of his unwavering gaze.  
Pravda handed her a towel soaked in boiled water and she began cleaning the wound.  The 
eyes of the entire household were upon her...even Nik, who stood in the corner drinking from a 
flask and leaning on her servant, who acted as a human crutch.

"Perhaps you will want to take a drink of whiskey, my lord," Scully suggested.

"No need," he replied.  Scully met his eyes and then shrugged.  She took the boiled tweezers 
and began the task of picking out the bullet.  She could see him tense, and grit his teeth, but 
he didn't make a sound.  There was absolutely no way that she could do anything to harm him 
now, but perhaps later when she rechecked the wound.

"When will that ars-licking doctor arrive?!" Lord Mulder barked.  "How much longer must I 
endure this chit of a girl playing surgeon on me?"

Scully pursed her lips and dug the tweezers into his skin roughly, receiving a satisfying yelp 
from her patient as reward.

"You did that on purpose!" he bellowed.  She latched onto the bullet at that moment and 
dropped it deftly onto the desk.  She then began cleaning the wound, enjoying the pain that he 
went through with every swipe of the alcohol.

"Dammit!  Get her away from me this instant!"

"Oh give it a rest," Scully murmured, putting the homemade bandages on him.  

When she was finished, she stepped away and said to Albert, "If you don't mind, I believe I 
shall retire for the night."

"Of course, thank you Dana, for what you have done for my brother."  

Scully glanced over at Lord Mulder, who sat with brows lowered and a frown upon his face.  If 
looks could kill, she'd be a dead woman.  

Just then, sounds in the hall announced both the doctor and a Lady and her maid.  The woman 
was tall and quite beautiful.  She moved with a grace that attracted attention as she handed 
her cloak to her maid, "Take this, Mary.  Fox..." she rushed toward him, kneeling at his side.  "I 
came immediately I heard the news...are you all right?"

Scully felt Albert stiffen beside her.  One glance his way told her all she needed to know.  This 
must be the Lady Kate Winthrop, and he was obviously in love with her.  She felt her heart 
constrict in compassion.  It was also painfully obvious that Lady Kate only had eyes for Lord 
Mulder.  Scully had no idea why.  It was strange, she mused.  He had the face and body of the 
man she would give her very soul for, but he did not possess his soul...therein lay the 
difference. Still, he did possess an overpowering magnetism. 

"My God, woman.  Back off from me this instant!  Will you take the very air that I breathe?"

Lady Kate took his hand in hers and laid her cheek on it.  "Nay, my lord, I only wish to assure 
myself of your health."

Scully rolled her eyes, then noticed to her discomfiture that Lord Mulder saw her do it.  The 
doctor moved to the other side of him and lifted the bandage.  

"I don't know what this little trollop has done to me..." Lord Mulder began.  Scully took a 
menacing step toward him, then felt Albert's hand on her arm.

The doctor, a short, fat man, clucked his tongue a few times and then finally stated that it 
looked acceptable to him.  Mulder narrowed his eyes.  "By pure luck, I am sure.  Everyone 
leave me, I am tired.  Boothe...take me to my chambers."  

His valet stepped forward and took his arm, helping him out of the chair.  Everyone had moved 
out of the study at his words, but Scully remained planted where she was.  Even Lady Kate had 
taken a position by the door, wavering in her desire to be with him.

Lord Mulder stopped and looked at Scully as he passed.  "Is there a reason you don't leave the 
room as I bade you?"

"There are a couple.  One is because I am not your servant to be ordered about, and the other 
is that I am waiting for the thank you that you owe me."

Lord Mulder seemed taken aback.  His eyes swept her body, a move meant to belittle her.  
Scully stood her ground, staring into his hazel eyes with her clear blue ones. Finally, Lord 
Mulder gave her a bow and took her hand in his. "Thank you," he said huskily, and his lips 
brushed her knuckles while his eyes still held hers. Then his lips opened slightly and he touched 
the softness of her skin with his tongue.  Scully felt a shiver run up her spine and her hand 
trembled slightly.  If nothing else, this man definitely had sex appeal.  As if reading her 
thoughts, Lord Mulder smiled smugly before he left the room.  Scully's eyes followed him, and 
then she found herself looking into those of Lady Kate.  The woman frowned, picked up her 
skirt, and flounced out, her maid trailing after her.

Pravda held the candle high as she guided Scully up the stairs.  When they stopped in front of 
her room, she whispered, "A word of advice, milady, lock the door."  

She turned and left Scully standing there staring after her.  After a moment she opened her 
door and went inside, seeing that her fire had been lit and her nightdress laid out for her.  She 
shut the door and turned the key in the lock.  Why had Pravda said that?  Scully turned to the 
basin and poured some water into it.  She noticed that the water had been warmed at the fire.  
She washed her face, and then began undressing and bathing herself as best she could.  She 
didn't know when she would actually be able to sit in a bath and wash.  She looked at her hair 
and began removing the pins.  She wondered what to do about it.  Should she braid the fall of 
hair and pin it back?  Scully thought it would be awfully uncomfortable to sleep that way.  She 
decided to braid it and leave some pins in so that she could quickly attach it to her own hair if 
she needed to.

Slipping on her nightdress, she crawled beneath the turned down covers.  A warm brick had 
been placed at the very foot of the bed and her toes tingled with the contact.  It felt 
wonderful, and took away a bit of the disappointment at not being able to have central heat 
and air.

The wind was howling outside.  Scully wondered if Lord Mulder would kick her out of the house 
when he next saw her.  Her eyes were feeling heavy and Scully fell asleep trying to devise the 
best way to kill him.

Sometime in the night, she awoke to a sound.  Getting up, she slipped on her little velvet 
shoes, and crept to the door, unlocking it.  She poked her head out into the frigid hallway.  She 
heard the noise again.  Scully thought that is sounded like someone crying.  Grabbing her 
brocade robe off the chair, she wrapped it around herself and started down the hall. Stopping, 
she reached up and felt her head.  She'd forgotten the braid!  Rushing back in her room, she 
snatched it off the table and began pinning it into place.  Then she went back out into the hall 
and followed the sounds.  They led her to Nik's room.

The door was ajar, and Scully looked in.  There was Nik, sitting on the bed weeping.  She 
started to open the door and go in, but what she saw next stopped her in her tracks.  Lord 
Mulder came from the shadows and sat on the bed next to his sister.  Taking the flask from her 
hands, he placed it on the table and gently drew her into his arms.  Holding her like that, he 
began humming a tune and rocking slightly.  This gradually quieted Nik, and Scully stood 
holding her breath as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and helped her settle back under the 
covers.  Quickly, she turned and hurried back to her room before he saw her.  She closed the 
door and stood against it breathing hard.  

<Hell, he isn't the animal I thought he was! Now how am I supposed to kill him with a clean 
conscious> she thought.  <He is supposed to be dead> she told herself.  <You have to kill him to 
save Mulder>  Scully went back to her bed and climbed up and under the bedclothes.  She was 
restless for the rest of the night thinking about what she had to do and how she should do it. 
But the picture of him rocking his drunken sister and humming to her kept creeping into her 
dreams.

The next morning, Scully descended the staircase wearing a pale green dress that she had 
found hanging in the wardrobe.  Although she hated the corset with a passion, she had to admit 
she found the dresses of the time flattering.

When she entered the dining room, she discovered Albert and Lord Mulder seated and already 
eating.  When Scully appeared, they both stood up and she smiled uncertainly, taking a seat 
across from Albert and to Lord Mulder's right.  Jasper placed a plate before her and she 
thanked him.

Taking a breath, she dove right in, "My lord, I am thankful for your hospitality.  I shall be 
leaving as soon as I can make the arrangements."  Scully had no idea how she was going to do 
this, but she felt it was the thing to say.

Albert opened his mouth to say something, but Lord Mulder cut her off.  "I want to speak with 
you about something after breakfast, Miss...."

"Scully," she supplied.  "You may call me Dana if you like."
He nodded, and continued eating.  Scully looked across the table at Albert who merely 
shrugged slightly.  They ate in silence until Albert asked, "How is your shoulder today, Fox?"

"It's better." He grunted.

"I should take a look at it," Scully said.

Lord Mulder shot her a glare, as if speaking when not spoken to was an abomination at his 
table.  Scully simply gave him her brightest smile.  His attention returned to his plate.  "Who 
shot you?" she asked and his head jerked so fast she thought he might get whiplash.

Albert's face was bright red.  Scully looked from one brother to the other.  "Well?  Is it a 
secret?"

"It's none of your business," Lord Mulder said.  He put his napkin down and stood.  "I will be in 
my study.  When you are finished eating, I expect to see you."  He left the room.

Scully returned her attention to her food.

"You really shouldn't do that, Dana," Albert said.

"Do what?" she asked, cutting a piece of ham.

"Anger him like that.  My brother has a violent temper."

"I only asked how it happened...don't you wonder?"

"He has his enemies."  Albert drank his tea and then rose from his seat.  "I suggest you don't 
keep him waiting long."

Scully nodded, but then purposely did just that.

When she finally entered the study, Lord Mulder had his back turned to her as he stoked the 
fire.  Scully's eyes ran down his muscular form.  His shoulders were broader than "her" 
Mulder's, as if he spent his life doing some type of activity that finely honed them.  His hips 
were slender, and his ass tight, like someone else she knew. His pants were very snug, she 
noticed. She thought the long hair pulled back at his neck and the sideburns lent an air of 
mystery to him.  When her eyes moved upward again, she saw that he had stiffened.  He 
turned and looked at her.  

"I thought perhaps you'd forgotten," he said quietly, his eyes boring holes into her.  

"No, my lord.  I was finishing my meal."  She walked toward him.  "Please sit down and allow 
me to check your wound."

Lord Mulder laughed.  "I have a real physician to do that for me, thank you." He moved toward 
his desk.

Scully blocked him.  "Unless he is coming today, I suggest you let me check it in case infection 
sets in."

Lord Mulder eyed her, a look that Scully didn't recognized creeping into his eyes.  He seemed 
to be appraising her in some way.  After a moment, he nodded and sat down, slowly 
unbuttoning his shirt. So slowly, that Scully began to feel uncomfortable.  His eyes never left 
hers. He shrugged the material off of him with a slight wince of pain, and once again Scully 
admired the fine muscles of his shoulders, and now his chest.  He seemed a bit hairier than the 
Mulder she knew.  She quickly squelched these thoughts and bent toward him, peeling back the 
bandages.  He winced as they caught in his chest hair and she met his eyes.

"You wince at that, but don't bat an eye when I poor alcohol on your open wound?" she raised 
an eyebrow.  He actually smiled at that, and Scully felt rewarded.  Then a cloud passed over 
his face and he reached up, cupping the back of her neck.  Her eyes opened wider.  His long 
fingers were playing with the fine hairs growing there underneath the hair in her snood.  She 
found herself hoping that the hair piece wouldn't fall off. 

"You're skin is so soft," he said softly.

 Returning her gaze to his wound, she felt around it.  "It looks good," she finally said, as his 
fingers worked some kind of magic on her neck.  "I just need to change the bandage."  With a 
yank, she ripped the adhesive from his chest and he let out a yell that sent the servants 
running into the room.

"Lord?" Pravda questioned, staring at the gasping Lord Mulder and the unruffled Miss Scully 
bending over him.

"He had a pain in his shoulder.  Would you bring me those torn sheets, please?"  Scully smiled.  
Pravda nodded and left the room.

"You little..." Lord Mulder began.  Scully simply stared down at him.

"Finish that sentence and I'll show you some other little tricks I know," she warned.

Pravda returned and Scully finished bandaging him up after cleaning the wound.

"Now, what did you want to see me about?" she asked when they were alone.

Lord Mulder was clearly angry with her, but he pushed it down and replied with as much civility 
as possible, "I am in need of a companion for my sister.  I wondered if you might want the 
position."

Scully was shocked.  She hadn't expected this at all. "What would be expected of me?" she 
finally asked.

"Only to read to her and take her for walks and rides.  She isn't much trouble.  I fear that she 
is lonely."  His expression was unreadable and the scene of the night before that she had 
witnessed came back to Scully's mind.  Against her will, she felt herself softening towards him 
again.  She knew she would have to remain in this house in order to complete her mission, and 
here was a way being offered to her on a silver platter.  She licked her lips.  "All right," she 
agreed.  "I'll stay."  

Lord Mulder nodded.  He told her how much he would pay her per year, but Scully was only half 
listening.  She had to find a way to kill him.  Time was running out for Agent Fox Mulder, and so 
it must be, she thought as she set her jaw, for Lord Mulder also.

Leaving the study, Scully decided she needed some air and some time to think.  She opened the 
doors off the dining room and walked out into the garden.  Looking up, she could see her 
balcony above her.  She walked to the gate and unlatched it, leaving the confined area.  The 
moors spread out before her, spots of purple heather dotting the landscape.  To her right she 
could hear the sea.  She began walking, thinking about Mulder lying in a coma.  She had to help 
him, even if it meant killing this man.  Dr. Johns had told her to make it happen in a way close 
to how it was supposed to have happened.  He should have died on his horse.  Scully wondered 
if perhaps she should initiate a ride with him, and then somehow make him fall off his horse.  
Perhaps a hat pin...

Scully had been walking an hour or more when small drops of rain began to fall and the wind 
picked up considerably.  A long roll of thunder broke the sound of the surf.  Looking up into the 
sky, she realized a storm was definitely coming, and she turned around to go back.

When lightning illuminated the sky and the thunderclap that followed shook the earth, she 
picked up her pace.  Then the rain began in earnest.

"Shit!" Scully exclaimed, grabbing her skirts and breaking into a run.  The rain driving down 
was blinding her.  She stopped, spitting water, and looked about.  The sheets of water driven 
by the wind totally blocked her view of the castle.  Was she going in the right direction?  How 
did such a violent storm come out of nowhere?  She began running again, but her skirts were so 
wet they weighted her down.  She glanced around looking for any type of cover.  She couldn't 
see any.  

All of a sudden, the ground beneath her began to vibrate and she was scooped off her feet and 
she found herself clasped in a strong grip, riding furiously on a horse.  Scully gasped and then 
held on for dear life.  A moment later, the horse stopped at a steep crag and the rider 
dismounted, Scully in his arms.  She spun around to face Lord Mulder, who stood looking at her 
with eyes more violent than the storm around them.

"Are you insane, walking around in a storm like this?" He barked at her.

"Well, it wasn't doing this when I left!"  She shouted above the din.

He leaned closer so that she could hear him, forcing her back against the rock wall.  "These 
storms come up very quickly.  You should never go out so far on foot."

"Thank you for telling me," she said, averting her gaze.  His breath was soft and hot on her 
face, his body so near that she could smell the scent of him. Her heart began beating furiously 
in her chest.  She was far too deprived of sex to have to deal with this man!

"I'm waiting," he said, his lips too close to her ear.

She dared not turn her head, for that would bring her lips to his.  "For what?" she asked, 
looking at the rain pouring in sheets upon the moor.

"For you to thank me, of course," he said in that infuriatingly sexy British accent.

Scully bit her lip.  She scooted away from him and then did her best to curtsey, thankfully not 
falling on her face.  "Thank you, my lord," she said, her eyes rising to meet his.  There was 
amusement in them and Scully suddenly felt furious.

"You are an irascible bastard!" She flung at him.

He chuckled.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Don't.  It wasn't meant to be one."  She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, trying to make 
him back down.  He didn't.

<When will this storm ever end> she thought.  She jumped as thunder cracked loudly in their 
ears, reverberating throughout the land around them.  

"You're shivering," he said, removing his cloak and wrapping it around her.

"You'll be cold," she said.

"Then let's share it..." he moved toward her.

"No."  Scully stepped back and he laughed.

"Asshole." She said.

He seemed shocked at her language.  Ladies of the day probably didn't cuss, Scully guessed.  
Again he gave her an appraising look.  The lightning flashed again, but this time there were 
several minutes before the thunder followed.  The rain was abating.  Lord Mulder offered her 
his hand, and she realized he wanted her to mount the horse.  <I'd rather mount you> she 
thought impulsively, and then bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood.  She took his hand 
and let him help her onto the horse, and a moment later, he was behind her, his crotch pressed 
to her back in a way that left her no room to wonder if he was attracted to her.  She sucked in 
her breath and the horse took off at a gallop toward Norcross.
***
Scully sat in front of the fire in her room, her bright fall of hair spread across the hearth to dry.  
She had changed her clothes, and she sat thinking about Lord Mulder.  What was it about the 
man that caused her body to puddle at his very touch?

<You know, Dana> she told herself.  <Mulder does the same thing to you, only his reticence and 
your own stand between you.  Here, nothing stands between you. >  Scully thought this over.  
What was keeping her from doing what she wished with this man?  She wouldn't be here 
forever, this was all the past...what harm would it do?  Maybe she could even accomplish what 
she came for at the same time...a heart attack during sex sounded plausible.  

Scully gave herself a mental shake.  <Are you crazy> She sighed, and got up, pulling the fall 
from the hearth and brushing it out.  She went to the mirror and began pinning her hair up.  A 
knock on the door caused her to jump.  Her heart began to race.  Was it he?

She crossed the room and opened the door.  Nik stood there, her dark hair disheveled and her 
face sickly pale.

"Nik...I haven't been able to formally meet you. I'm Dana," Scully started to stick her hand out 
in greeting, but then decided that was wrong.

"So you're my keeper now...my brother's newest conquest."

"I'm nothing of the sort!  Your brother Fox has given me the position of your companion, hardly 
your keeper.  And as to being his conquest, I assure you that is utterly false."

Nik smirked.  "I'm certain he'll win you to his bed as he's done every other of my 
'companions', along with every female servant in this household."  She reached inside her 
bodice and pulled out her flask.  As she twisted the top off, Scully said, "Nik, that isn't good 
for you at all.  Why keep your senses muddled like this?"  She reached for it, but the girl held it 
out of her reach.  

"It's the only thing that eases the pain," she said. "Leave me alone!"  Nik hobbled off on her 
hurt ankle, her flask raised to her lips and the amber liquid trickling down her chin. 

Scully sighed again and went down the stairs to the dining room.  Looking out at the garden, 
she realized that there were several plants growing there that were quite poisonous.  A bit of 
one in Lord Mulder's food would kill him within hours...

She felt a presence behind her, and turned to face him.  He had also put on dry clothes, and he 
stood much too close to her.  He seemed to enjoy invading her personal space as much as his 
future relation did.  Scully sidestepped him and said, "I just made your sister's acquaintance.  
She was drinking again."

Lord Mulder looked down at her.  "It is something she has done since the fever took our sister 
and parents."  He lightly shrugged.  "It keeps her going."

"You have to make her stop, my lord.  It is very bad for her health. It will kill her eventually."

He smiled at her like one would a small child.  "There are those who drink far more than she, 
who are quite old."  Scully followed him to the fire, where he stood and began loading his pipe 
with tobacco.  Scully wrinkled her nose.  "That isn't good for you either."

He glanced at her with amusement and continued with his task.  When he had it ready and lit, 
he sat down and gazed at her, his eyes unreadable.  She began to feel uneasy under his 
scrutiny.  

"If you'll excuse me, my lord...I believe I will go to my room."

He reached out and encircled her wrist as she walked by him.  His fingers traced circles on her 
tender skin as he tilted his head back and looked at her with hooded eyes.

"The fire in my chamber is lit," he said, and Scully stiffened.  His finger dipped to tickle her 
palm.  "And we could light our own in my bed..."

She sought for the words of the time for what she wanted to say.  Thank God she had read 
those Gothic romances in med school in order to rest her weary brain!

"I'm sure there's many a maiden 'twould love to warm your bed, my lord."  She extracted her 
wrist from his hand.  "I prefer to remain cold."  

Gathering her skirts, she left the room.

Scully waited until Lord Mulder exited the dining room before she crept back in and went out 
the doors to the garden.  Kneeling in the dirt, she found the plant she needed and pulled it up 
from the ground by the roots. She tucked it into her skirt.  She made a pretense of looking at 
all the flowers before she went back inside.  Hurrying up to her room, she deftly cut into the 
root with a knife she took off of her tea tray.  A piece of paper made a handy container for the 
powdery substance she extracted.  She folded it several times and tucked it into her sleeve.  

Checking her appearance in the mirror, she left to find her charge.

Nik was at the stables talking with Lady Kate Winthrop and another girl when Scully caught up 
to her.  She was a little taken aback at the hateful stare that the older woman sent her way.  If 
Lady Winthrop was the jealous type, she must spend most of her time that way.  Lord Mulder 
seemed to get around quite a bit, judging from the sulky, pouty-lipped children she'd seen in 
the servant's quarters.  <Perhaps it is beneath a lady of this time to be jealous of a mere 
servant woman> she mused.

"Good afternoon, Nik.  Good afternoon, Lady Winthrop.  Beautiful out here, isn't it, after that 
storm?"

" Good afternoon.  This is my sister Ashley," Lady Kate replied.  Scully greeted her.  The young 
girl looked much kinder than her sister did.  Lady Kate continued, "I hear you were caught out 
in the storm, Miss Scully," She looked her in the eyes with barely hidden malice.  " I would 
think you would know better than to travel so far on the moors."

Scully wondered if the servants had been talking.  She knew her name and what had happened 
this afternoon.  She supposed she also knew that Lord Mulder had ridden out to "save" her.  
Scully smiled.  

"Yes, Lord Mulder was so kind as to ride out and fetch me.  We had to wait out the storm 
among the crags. It took a terribly long time.  Fortunately for me, Lord Mulder is far from 
dull."  Scully forced herself to blush.  <Oh, Dana, you little bitch>

Lady Kate turned a stunning shade of red herself and walked away to talk to a groomsman, her 
sister close behind.  Nik remained with Scully.  "Were you looking for me?" She asked.

"Yes, I thought perhaps we could take a walk." 

"But you've already been for a long one...how about a ride?"  Nik smiled brightly.  "Kate, 
Ashley, and I were just talking about taking one."

Scully was a little dubious about this, since she had only been on a horse a handful of times, 
and never sidesaddle. (Except with Albert and Lord Mulder at the reigns.)  

"Please, Dana.  It will give us a chance to get to know one another."

Scully decided she would, since Nik didn't appear to be drunk and she was so eager.
"All right...which horse shall I use?"

"Oh, I have the perfect one for you," Nik said, smiling sweetly.  She called to the other women 
and they went into the stables.


An hour and a half later, Scully came rushing into the castle, her hair disheveled and her face 
flushed.  Pieces of a thorn bush stuck out here and there from her gown and hair.  Bursting into 
the dining room, she caused Lord Mulder and Albert to pause, forks in hand.

"Dana," Albert cried, rising from the table. "What's happened?"  

Lord Mulder was a little slower at putting his napkin down and standing, but his eyes held 
concern.

"It was that lush sister of yours!  She purposely gave me the meanest horse in the stables and 
then put a burr under his saddle!  I was nearly killed!"  She stood fuming, her fists clenched by 
her sides, embarrassment from the ordeal causing her to visibly tremble.

"Pravda, please get Miss Scully some sherry," Albert said, as he followed his brother into the 
hall, the butler on his heels.

Scully hadn't planned for this to happen, but it was the perfect opportunity.  Taking a breath 
to calm herself, she crossed to Lord Mulder's plate and slipped the paper out of her sleeve.  
Swiftly, she emptied the contents into his gravy and stirred it with his spoon.  She backed away 
and went out into the hall.

Lord Mulder was questioning Nik, Lady Winthrop, and Ashley.

"What horse did you give to Miss Scully, Nik?" His voice was stern, but soft.

Nik rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.  "Firebrand," she finally admitted.

Lord Mulder raised an eyebrow.  "Don't you think that was rather an ill choice?"

Nik began to laugh.  "Actually, I thought it the perfect choice for my keeper to ride!"  She 
clapped her hands childishly and Lady Winthrop tried to hide a smile.  Ashley looked 
uncomfortable.  She placed a gloved hand on her sister's sleeve.  "Come, Kate.  We are late 
for the evening meal."  

With a last disparaging look at Scully, and then a gentle touch on Lord Mulder's sleeve, Lady 
Kate turned and left with her sister.

"Nikolette...you will apologize to Miss Scully this instant."  Lord Mulder's tone held no room for 
disagreement.

Nik turned sullen eyes to Scully.  "I am deeply sorry, Miss Scully," she looked at the floor.

"Now you may take your meal in your room,"

Nik nodded and climbed the stairs.  When she turned the upper corner, they could hear her 
laughter.

Scully spun and pointed her finger at the two brothers.  "You spoil her.  She is too old to be 
humored like this."

"She is ill," Albert replied.

"She is a drunk, not an invalid." Her eyes turned to Lord Mulder.  "You should put a stop to it.  
You allow her to drink herself into a stupor and then to play dangerous pranks!"

Lord Mulder dismissed her with his hand and turned to walk back into the dining room.  Albert 
and Scully followed, seating themselves.  Pravda placed a glass of sherry in front of Scully, 
along with her dinner.  Scully sipped at her drink as she watched Lord Mulder clean his plate.

After she finished eating, Scully went to her room and undressed.  She put her nightgown on, 
and began braiding the fall of hair.  It wouldn't be long now. She sat looking in the mirror, 
remorse for her deed creeping up on her.  "Oh Mulder," she whispered.  "If it were anyone 
else, I could never do this.  Please hang on..."

There was a knock at her door.  Perhaps someone coming to tell her the master is sick...

She unlocked and opened it.  Lord Mulder stood there, leaning against the door frame.  He 
wore only his riding breeches and boots, and his white shirt.  It was unbuttoned almost 
halfway, revealing a tangle of dark hairs.  Scully's heart jumped to her throat.  This man 
should be seriously ill!  

In her surprise, she didn't block him as he moved into her room, shutting the door.  His eyes 
raked over her body, taking in the thin material of her nightdress.  Scully immediately crossed 
her arms over her chest.

Laughing, he reached up and tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear.  The gesture was so 
"Mulder" that Scully was struck dumb. He moved forward, his hand traveling down the side of 
her face and under her chin.  He lifted it, his face moving toward hers.

Scully stepped back quickly.  "What are you doing here, my lord?"

"I think you know," he replied, taking two steps forward.  Scully moved back again.

"No, I don't.  Tell me."

Lord Mulder raised a brow. "Oh, is that the way you like it?  Well, I want to pleasure your body, 
my dear Dana.  Over and over again."

Scully swallowed.  "Well, I suggest you turn around and go right back to your room," She was 
thoroughly thrown by his audacity, and struggled to keep her accent in tact.  "I don't want you 
in my bed."

Lord Mulder reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could move away.  He pulled her to 
him.  "Oh, but I think you do, Dana," his breath was warm on her temple.  Scully felt herself 
tremble.  If her Mulder ever did this, she would be a puddle on the floor.  If only he would. He 
smelled absolutely delicious.  Scully swallowed.

"Let go of me!" she jerked her hand back, but he wouldn't let go.  His other arm snaked 
around her waist, and he was holding her so close that she could feel his arousal against her 
stomach. His shirt was so soft. What had they used before Downey?  His head dipped and his 
mouth met her neck, causing Scully to abandon her train of thought and suck air into her lungs 
in surprise.  Her tight corset didn't allow for this, and she became dizzy, her knees buckling 
underneath her.  Lord Mulder's laughter rumbled against her as he held her to him.  Scully 
tried to pull her knee up sharply to effectively disable him for the evening, but there wasn't 
enough room between them.

She shut her eyes, trying to block out the glorious sensation of his lips on her skin.  His fingers 
were already working the buttons loose at the back of her nightgown.

"S-stop," she breathed, knowing that he wouldn't.  She was going to learn firsthand how it felt 
to be nailed by the Lord of the castle in 19th century England.  Her arms gradually came up and 
encircled his wide shoulders and then found his hair. Against her will, she untied the ribbon 
holding it to the nape of his neck and let it fall to the ground as her fingers laced into the silky 
tresses.  His face left her neck and began moving toward her lips as the folds of her nightgown 
fell open and cool air hit her back.

Scully was thinking she'd finally get that pouty lip in her mouth one way or another when Lord 
Mulder suddenly doubled over in pain, crying out.

"What is it?" Scully was in a stupor of longing.  He cried out again, and reality hit her.  She ran 
out into the hall and called for Albert.  Pravda appeared and she told her the master was ill 
and to get his brother.  The woman took off running up the stairs to the west wing.

Scully knelt beside Lord Mulder, seeing a fine sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.  Her 
heart constricted for him, even as she felt the elation of knowing that her Mulder would soon 
be safe. 

The household was quiet as all activity was centered on the sick room.  Lord Mulder lay in his 
bed, naked from the waist up, as cold compresses were placed on his head.  Scully stood 
uncertainly in the doorway.  A voice behind her caused her to turn, and she looked up into 
Albert's worried eyes.

"You must help him, Dana," he said.

She looked away.  "I don't know what to do for him."

He roughly grasped her by the upper arm, and Scully gasped.  

"You just don't want to help him, isn't that it?" His gaze held hers in quiet desperation.  "My 
brother is dying, and you don't want to help him because he made advances on you and hurt 
you...isn't that right?"

Dana looked at him, her mouth open in surprise.  "No!  That's not it at all, Albert."

"It is it, or else you would be doing something.  You must know what to do..."

Scully swallowed.  "The doctor will be here soon...he'll know better than I."

"He will be too late!  Please, Dana.  Please save Fox's life."  Tears clogged the man's throat 
and Scully wished she could run away now and step through the portal back to where she 
belonged.  Back to where she fought to help people and save lives, rather than murder and 
cause pain.  She blinked back her own tears.  She knew that she couldn't leave this place until 
she knew it was done and Mulder was safe.

She walked toward where Lord Mulder lay, thrashing around on his pillows.  "Let me tend to 
him, Suzanne," she told the small maid who willingly handed her the wet cloth.  Scully sat on 
the edge of the bed and dipped it into the water, wringing out the excess.

She began to wash Lord Mulder's face and down his neck, slowly moving with soft strokes.  She 
bathed his chest and arms, and then his stomach, watching the dark hair mat up.  She was glad 
to have something to do, although she knew this wouldn't help him.

Pravda rushed in with something in her hand.  She walked to the bed, holding up a bottle.

"Cookie sent this up as soon as she had it ready."  She squeezed Lord Mulder's cheeks until he 
opened his mouth, and then poured something in it.  Sputtering, he tried to cough it out, but 
Pravda stubbornly held his mouth shut until she was certain that it all went down.

"What was it?" Scully asked. 

"An old herb recipe.  Cookie comes from across the sea and her family were gypsies. This 
recipe has been passed down for centuries to cure stomach ailments."

Lord Mulder groaned and turned over, beginning to vomit.  Grabbing the basin, Pravda caught it 
before it hit the floor.  Over and over again he purged his stomach, until Scully wouldn't have 
been at all surprised to see the organ itself topple out and into the bowl.  She moved off the 
bed and sat in a chair.

"Now all we can do it wait," Pravda said.  She left the room, closing the door quietly.  Albert 
had gone downstairs after his conversation with her, and the maids reported that he was 
comforting Lady Kate in the parlor. Scully smiled wryly. <Well, at least something will come of 
all this> she thought.  She laid her head back on the soft velvet of the chair and went to sleep.

Lord Mulder didn't awake for the rest of the day.  Scully finally went to her room and prepared 
for bed, but she found that sleep alluded her.  She watched the wind blowing the trees from 
her window and thought about home.  Was Mulder still alive?  Surely she would know it if he 
wasn't.  For so long it had been enough to merely have this type of connection with a man.  
Scully had begun to feel lately that she needed something more.

Finally, not knowing if Lord Mulder was at death's door or on his way to recovery became too 
much for her.  She took her candle and entered the hall, making her way to the stairway that 
led to the west wing.  She crept up the stairs, shivering in the drafty air.  When she reached 
the top, she pushed open his door.  The servant left to attend him was snoring in the corner.  
Scully walked over to the bed and looked down at the man who looked like her partner.  Her 
throat constricted with a confused yearning for him.  Placing her candle on the bedside table, 
she leaned down and listened to his breathing.  It was steady and strong.  Scully knew then 
that he would pull through.  The man had to be as strong as an ox!  Her emotions were in 
turmoil.  She wanted him dead and alive. Carefully she sat on the bed, watching his chest rise 
and fall and listening to Pravda snore.  The candlelight cast shadows over the fine muscles of 
his abdomen and the beauty of his body mesmerized Scully.  Her eyes were drawn lower to 
where the coverlet hid him from the waist down. Biting her lip, she forced her gaze away and 
brought it to his face.  His eyes were open and looking into her very soul.

Scully started.  "Lord Mulder...you're awake."

He stared at her a moment, then reached out a hand and touched her hair.  Weakly, he took a 
silky strand between his fingers, and then let them drop to the bed.  With a jolt, she realized 
she had forgotten to attach the hairpiece.

"Your hair..." he said in a voice that was both weak and husky and sent a shiver down her spine.

"I-I had the fever last year.  My hair fell out and...it's growing back.  I had the hairpiece made 
until it does."

She saw his eyes gliding over her head and she closed her own, feeling his gaze as if it were his 
fingers.  Her breath caught in her throat as his hand came up again and brushed her cheek.  
"Dana..."

She squeezed her own eyes shut.  His voice tore at her; it was so like her partner's.

"I like it," he said.

"What?" she reached up a shaky hand and impatiently wiped a tear away. "You like what, my 
lord?"

"Your hair."  He smiled.  "It suits you."  He looked around the room.  "So I will live?" he 
commented, sounding unconcerned. His gaze returned to her and softened. "Fate has looked 
upon me kindly. Another day in the presence of your beauty. Another chance to know your 
heart."

She looked away.  She didn't want to gaze into those eyes that were Mulder's but were not.

"My lord," she started to rise, but he pulled her back.

"Please call me Fox," he said, pulling her hand to his mouth and placing the gentlest of kisses 
on her palm.

The request and the gesture undid her, and a sob escaped her throat.  Aghast, she yanked her 
wrist from his grasp and fled the room, pausing in the hall, her head to the stone wall.  Sobs 
racked her body.  

<God help me> she whispered before stumbling back to the stairway and her room.

The next morning, Scully was on her way to try to entertain Nik when she passed a maid about 
to climb the stairs to the West Wing.  She was crying audibly.

Scully put her hand on her arm.  "What is it, Erin?"

The girl was very young.  She sniffed back her tears and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"Oh, Miss...I am to go and give Lord Mulder a rub down with the oil...I've never done it before, 
but he expects me...I'll be in so much trouble if I don't go, Miss!"

Scully was indignant.  "Why that overbearing...you listen to me, Erin.  I'll go up and put him in 
his place.  Don't you worry about it."

Erin looked at her with wide, na�ve eyes.  "But Miss...I'll be discharged if I don't go, and the 
money I make is all that my family gets. It's just, I've never been with a man before!"

Scully patted the girl's hand.  "Don't worry, you won't be dismissed.  I'll take care of 
everything."

Slowly, Erin smiled.  "Thank you, Miss!"  She scurried down the steps to the servants quarters.  
Scully's mouth set in a hard line.  That Casanova thought he could have any woman or girl he 
pleased!  She picked up her skirts and climbed the stairs, knocking loudly on Lord Mulder's 
chamber door.

"Come!" His voice was muffled.  Scully opened the door and entered the room.

"Close the door, chit," he said.  "You're letting a draft in!"  

Scully closed the door and went forward, prepared to give Lord Mulder the dressing down of his 
life.  When she turned the corner, what she saw made her stop and drop her mouth almost to 
her chest.

Lord Mulder was sprawled on the bed naked, lying on his stomach with his face buried in 
pillows, his head covered with a silk cloth.  A bowl of oil was beside him.  His tanned skin and 
his rippling muscles caused Scully's knees to go weak.  She grabbed hold of a chair to keep 
herself upright.  The room was alight only with candles, the heavy brocade curtains drawn.  

"Hurry up, Erin.  The oil is heated and I'm getting a chill.  I told you, I'll dismiss you if I have 
to!"

Scully bit into her finger.  She didn't want Erin to be dismissed, and she had no doubt that he'd 
do it.  All the anger had run out of her and had been replaced by pure desire.  As if her limbs 
belonged to someone else, she moved forward and put her hands into the bowl of oil.

"That's it, chit.  Get a move on."

Scully rubbed the warm, slippery liquid into the palms of her hands.  The feeling was sensuous.  
Slowly, she lowered her hands and began to massage it into Lord Mulder's hard, unyielding, 
back.  He groaned.  She used her expertise as a doctor to find the muscles that needed 
attention the most.  His ass tensed as she spread her fingers and ran them down his spine.  He 
groaned again and Scully stifled her own moan.  Biting her lip, her hands moved lower to the 
middle of his spine, gently yet firmly rubbing until his skin shone in the candlelight.

"Lower," he said huskily.  Scully raised her eyes to the ceiling in agony, and then moved her 
hands until they were smoothing the firm muscles of his ass.

Lord Mulder sighed and Scully bit harder on her lip, drawing blood.  She moved her hands down 
to his upper thighs and kneaded them rhythmically. Down, down to his hairy calves and then 
his shapely feet.  Scully had always loved Mulder's feet.  They were quite handsome.  Long 
with a light sprinkling of hair on them.  She moved her thumbs on the bottoms until Lord 
Mulder growled low in his throat and lifted his head.  "Now for the other side," he said, and 
Scully stopped. His head was still covered in the cloth, as he was turned over.  One look at his 
massive erection, and Scully bolted from the room.

When she reached the foyer she paused, her breath coming fast.  Mentally, she chastised 
herself for being such a fool.  She heard his steps on the stairway and struggled to regain her 
composure.

"When I get a hold of that wench..." Lord Mulder rounded the corner and headed toward the 
servants' stairwell, fastening his pants. "...she'll regret the day she was born!"

"No, wait!"  Scully reached out and grabbed his hand, and he stopped, looking down at it.  The 
oil remaining there caused it to slip from his grasp and color flooded Scully's face as she 
realized what she had done. His eyes met hers, knowing and questioning at the same time.

"You..."

The clicking of heels interrupted them and Nik appeared dressed for a ride.

"There you are, Dana," she gave the two of them a cocky look.  "I want to go for a ride.  You 
are my companion, you know."  She looked from her brother to Scully.  "That means you 
should go with me."

"I'm ready," Scully said, not looking at Lord Mulder as she passed him and followed his sister 
out.  He watched her go and then looked down at his hand, shining with oil.

It was a beautiful day, and Scully tried to push all thoughts from her mind as she watched Nik 
climb onto her saddled horse.  Scully eyed the mare that the girl had chosen for her with 
suspicion.

"Come on, Dana, I said I was sorry. Old Virtie wouldn't hurt a fly, I promise."

Scully ran her hand down the horse's neck and decided she looked safe enough. Putting her 
shoe in the stirrup, she hoisted herself up and balanced precariously in the sidesaddle.  Her 
horse seemed to naturally follow the one Nik was riding, so Scully didn't have to do much other 
than enjoy the ride.

They walked the horses for about 20 minutes before they found a clearing with a shimmering 
lake that Nik wanted to explore.  She got down, teetering a little from her afternoon nip at the 
booze, and began skipping stones into the lake.  She took off her right glove so that she could 
throw better.  Scully descended from her mount and stood watching, her mind partly absent as 
she thought about the task that still lay before her.

Nik groaned suddenly and she snapped to the present.  

"Darn!  I tossed my glove into the lake."

"Gee, that's too bad," Scully said, unconcerned.

Nik began to jump up and down childishly.  "I need my glove, Dana!  Please get it for me!"

Scully gave her a look.  "I don't think so, Nik." 

Nik turned on her.  " I said, go and get it!  My brother pays you and you have to do whatever I 
say!"

Scully was incredulous.  She folded her arms over her chest and stared at the spoiled girl.

"I will not, Nik.  You can get it yourself."

Nik stamped her foot again.  When she saw that Scully wasn't going to give in, she took a huge 
swig from her flask and quickly jumped into the lake.  Scully gasped.

"No!  Take your skirts off, first!"

Nik immediately began flailing her arms about, trying to swim toward the glove, but she wasn't 
making any headway.  Her heavy skirts began to pull her down.  She shrieked.

Scully lifted her dress and began unbuttoning her underskirt, pushing it to the ground.  She 
stepped out of her shoes and then, deciding that even her dress was too heavy, she tore at the 
buttons until she could get out of it.  She dove into the cold water wearing only her corset and 
pantaloons.  With sure strokes, she swam toward the flailing Nik, who immediately latched 
onto her neck and tried to take her down with her.  Scully gasped for air and then pinched Nik 
hard on the side until she let go.  Hooking her arm around the girl's neck, she slowly pulled her 
toward land.

They crawled upon the muddy shore coughing and gasping.

"You ... idiot...girl!  Haven't you got...a ...lick of sense?" Scully burst out in between spats of lake 
water.

Nik lay on her side, retching.  She looked at Scully with malice, wiping the vomit from her chin.  
"How dare you speak to me in that manner!  You impertinent little chit!"

Scully reached up and slapped her face and Nik gasped in surprise.

"I'm getting tired of being called a chit," her blue eyes flashed.  "I am not your servant, and 
you are a drunken little nuisance!"

"My brother will have you whipped for this!  You won't have a job tomorrow.  You think just 
because he wants your body that he won't, but he will!"  Nik scrambled to her feet and 
mounted her horse. Kicking her heels into the animal's sides, she rode toward the castle.

Scully rolled over in the dirt and groaned.

After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and she began to feel a little better. She rose from 
the ground, shivering as the breezed caught her wet garments.  Dismayed, she saw that her 
skirts and dress had been pulled part way into the lake.  She pulled them out and began 
wringing them with her hands.  She stood up.

"Shit!"  She exclaimed when she realized that her horse had followed Nik's back to the castle.  
With a sigh of resignation, she picked up her skirts and tied them back on, slipped into her 
shoes, and pulled her now mud-splashed dress over her head.  Her teeth were chattering by the 
time she began her walk home.

Each step became harder as she dragged her muddy skirts behind her.  The wind had picked up 
and chilled her to the bone.  When she topped the hill she could see Norcross in the distance.  
Damn that Nik!  She wasn't going to send someone for her.  Scully decided to have it out with 
Lord Mulder about his sister's habits.  At the thought of him, she blushed profusely.  The 
memory of him lying nude on his bed while her fingers moved over his supple flesh sent shivers 
of yearning throughout her body.  And when he had turned over...what she had seen had been 
her undoing, and she'd fled the room before her passion got the best of her.  

Scully swallowed hard.  Now he knew that it was she who had touched him like that.  This 
along with the realization that she had been succumbing to him in her room before he took sick 
was enough to assure him that she was now putty in his hands.  His large, capable, beautiful 
hands...

Scully shook herself out of her thoughts.  It had been far too long since she had been with a 
man, and the man who was pursuing her looked just like the man she loved.  Scully bit her lip.  
Yes, she knew she loved Mulder.  She could now admit it to herself, if not to him.

She kept walking until her feet hurt in her small slippers.  When she reached the gates of 
Norcross, her teeth were chattering so hard that she couldn't control it.  Her eyes were 
smarting and she felt a sore throat coming on. The tightness of her corset made it difficult for 
her to take a deep breath. 

Yards ahead of her, she could see a figure striding purposefully toward her, a black cape flying 
in the breeze.  She stopped and her legs felt weak underneath her heavy skirts.  With a gasp, 
she sank to her knees on the ground just as the figure reached her.  The last thing she saw 
before she sank into darkness was the concerned eyes of Lord Mulder as he lifted her into his 
arms.

***
The voices in her head were alternately quiet and deafening.  So much talking.  She couldn't 
pick out any of them except for one...the one she would recognize anywhere.

"Mulder," she said his name over and over again in her delirium.  She felt cool hands on her 
head and a wet cloth on her body.  She knew she lay on a soft bed and that someone was 
taking care of her.  Whenever she opened her eyes, it was he.

Once she tried to touch him.  She reached out and he caught her hand in his, kissing her palm.  
It made tears come to her eyes to know that he felt the same about her.  She had always hoped 
that he did. 

Another time she talked of the X Files.  She told him in a long jabbering soliloquy how she knew 
she had seen the ship on the bridge that night.  She went on and on about it and about 
Cassandra Spender and the lights in the sky.

She spoke of their road trips together, shooting practice at the FBI, and how sometimes she 
stole glances at him in Skinner's office and thought unwholesome thoughts about what she'd 
like to do with him instead of concentrating on what their boss was saying.

Then she slept for hours at a time and didn't say a word, and that was the time that concerned 
him the most.  When all he could do was sit and stare at the woman who had changed his world 
at a time when he felt as if it had come spiraling to an end.  A woman with fire who was not 
afraid to speak her mind.  A beautiful woman whose body he desired but whose heart he 
wanted more.  What was happening to him?  And now, if she died, he would die along with her 
from the pain of his loss.

Her fever would not come down, and when it reached its peak, she began babbling about things 
he had never heard of.  It scared him so that he undressed her and bathed her naked body with 
cool water, gently memorizing every curve as he fought the illness that sought to kill her. 

The moments that pulled on his heart the most were when she thrashed about and called his 
name.  "Mulder," she said. And then, quieting, "Mulder, I love you."  

He wouldn't let anyone else in her room. He insisted on taking care of her himself until the 
physician arrived.  Even then, there was not much that could be done.  Try to bring down the 
fever.  Try to get fluids into her.  Lord Mulder wouldn't eat or sleep until he knew she would 
get better. He never left her side. It was that morning Albert found her lying in the frost, and 
that day out in the storm, he knew, that had brought her resistance down.  The time spent in 
the lake and the chilly air had been the final blow to her health. Now all her could do was 
wait, and pray.




Present Day


Skinner stood looking down at the inert form of his favorite agent.  The doctors didn't hold 
much hope that he'd last the night.  And where was Scully?  It was unlike her to disappear like 
she had, although she'd left him a message saying that she was trying to fit the pieces together 
about what had happened to Mulder.  

He sighed and rubbed the muscles in his neck that ached so painfully.  He walked out of the 
room and over to the coffee machine in the corner, inserting several corners.  He watched as 
the cup dropped down and filled with water, and then a dark syrup.

Picking his cell phone up out of his jacket pocket, he dialed Scully's number.  No answer.
How was she going to feel if Mulder died and she wasn't here?  Where the hell was she?

Skinner looked to the waiting room where those three strange friends of Mulder's were camped 
out with their laptops.  He shook his head slowly.  Three freakier people he'd never seen in his 
life.  He walked toward the glass doors and opened one, clearing his throat.

They looked up.  "Listen, I have to go do something.  Can I trust that you three will be here for 
Mulder?"

The three men looked at one another nodding.  "Yeah, man," "Sure" "You got it" they 
chorused.

"Good." Skinner closed the door and sipped his coffee as he stepped onto the elevator.  He 
hated to leave when Mulder's condition was so precarious, but he had to find Agent Scully.  He 
knew something was up or she'd be here now.

He drove to Scully's apartment and parked outside.  Striding across the front lawn, he 
wondered once again why she hadn't called to update him on what she had found out about 
Mulder.  He knew she wasn't home because he'd called her on the way, so he rang the buzzer 
and announced himself to her superintendent, who came and let him in.

"I'm a bit worried about Agent Scully.  I wonder if you'd let me into her apartment." Skinner 
flashed his badge.

The super nodded, leading the way.  "Always something up with her," he said conversationally.  
"It's real exciting having an FBI agent living in the building."

Skinner followed silently, and thanked the man when he'd ushered him in.  Flipping on the 
lights, Skinner looked around.  The answering machine was flashing.  He knew at least three of 
the six messages were from him.  He walked past and gazed down at her couch, which was 
covered with papers.  Picking one up, he recognized Mulder's handwriting.  It appeared to be 
some kind of genealogy on the Mulder family.  Scrawled at the top in Scully's neat script was 
the name Dr. Reginald Johns and an address.  Skinner decided he'd give this Dr. Johns a visit.
+++

Skinner parked in front of the small, unassuming townhouse in Rockville, Maryland. No one had 
answered at his knock, so he had come back to his car and waited.  He'd been sitting and 
watching for at least an hour, finally opening a package of Oreos he'd picked up at the 7-11.  
Distractedly, he twisted one apart and licked out its creamy filling.  A tired looking Oldsmobile 
made its way up the street and pulled up in front of the house.  An older man got out and 
locked the car, then began walking toward the front door.  Skinner drank the last of his milk 
and crushed the container with his hand.  Climbing out, he followed the man, coming up 
behind him.

"Dr. Johns?" he inquired in a booming voice.  The little man jumped.

"Yes?" he asked.  Skinner flashed his badge and introduced himself.  "I'm looking for Agent 
Dana Scully.  Have you seen her?"

Dr. Johns shut his eyes for a moment and then opened them again.  "Come in, sir.  I'll tell you 
what I know, but I doubt you're going to believe me."

"Agents Mulder and Scully have worked under me for seven years.  There isn't much I haven't 
heard, Dr. Johns."  He followed the man into the dim house and waited as he flicked on some 
lights and straightened the living room a little.

"Please sit down," he said, and began his story.

Skinner sat and listened, his hands resting on his powerful thighs.  When the Dr. was finished, 
he rose from the couch and paced the room slowly, like a caged jungle cat.

"You're trying to tell me that Agent Scully has traveled back in time to 19th Century England in 
order to kill a man?"

Dr. Johns nodded, watching the burly man in front of him.  He looked as if he wanted to break 
something.  "It is the only way to save Agent Mulder, because he altered history when he went 
back.  If his ancestor doesn't die as he was supposed to, your Agent Mulder no longer exists."

Skinner had no belief in time travel, yet he knew that Agent Mulder probably jumped at the 
prospect.  "Do you think Agent Scully is in trouble?" he asked softly.

The Dr. shrugged.  "Time is not the same then as it is now.  She has probably been there for 
several days in their time period.  Something is holding her back from completing her intended 
mission."

Skinner rubbed his jaw.  Agent Scully needed to know that Mulder was slipping away.  She had 
to do something soon or he'd be gone.  "I want you to send me where she is," he said finally.  
Dr. Johns looked surprised and then miserable.

"I don't want to keep sending people back like this.  It was a mistake to let Agent Mulder go, 
and now something may have happened to Agent Scully.  Sending you isn't going to make things 
any better."

Skinner moved over to the doctor and clamped his hand onto his shoulder.  "I don't make 
mistakes, Dr. Johns. I'll bring her back.  Now what do I need to do to get ready?"
***
Scully awakened sometime in the evening, her head pounding and her mouth dry.  She had 
been dreaming about Mulder.  They had been in their office, and she had walked in with coffee 
and bagels.  He'd asked her why she never brought doughnuts, and she'd told him they weren't 
good for him.

"Since when do I ever do anything that's good for me, Scully?" he'd asked her with the smile 
that she knew so well.

"Since now, Mulder.  You're going to start taking care of yourself so I'll have you with me for a 
long, long time."

Mulder had been silent a moment, not quite making out what Scully was getting at.  He opened 
his mouth a couple times, but the proper quip just wouldn't come out.  Scully found herself 
enjoying his discomfiture.  Finally, she had set her things down, walked over to his desk and 
put her hands on each side of his face.  Looking him steadily in the eye, she'd said:

"Fox William Mulder, I love you!" and she'd leaned over and kissed him thoroughly.  After a 
moment, she felt him kissing her back, and that's when Scully moaned in her sleep and then 
sat up, blinking in the half-light of her room at Norcross.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed was Lord Mulder, his chin buried in his chest, which was 
rising and falling steadily in sleep.  His face was covered in stubble and he looked rumpled.  
After a moment he seemed to feel her watching him, and he opened his eyes.  They blinked, 
traveling over her face and then lower, to where the blanket had fallen from her body.  Scully 
followed his gaze and, gasping, pulled the covers up to her chin.

"Dana...you're better..." he sat up straighter.  

She nodded, scooting back down under the coverlet.

He stood, towering over the bed.  "I'll ring Pravda for some tea," his eyes lingered on her, soft 
and different somehow.  She watched him leave the room, her heart heavy.  The dream she 
had awakened from made her miss her partner terribly.  A knot of worry grew in the pit of her 
stomach.  How was she going to do this?  Was her Mulder still hanging on?  She had failed him 
miserably.


Nik walked along the moor, petulantly kicking at a rock. That stupid companion of hers had to 
go and get sick from being wet and in the lake.  It wasn't her fault that Virtie had followed her 
horse home!  Nik frowned.  She stood near the cliff's edge looking over the stormy sea, wishing 
she was anywhere but Norcross where her brothers lorded over her.  

She was reaching into her pocket for her flask when a movement behind her caught her 
attention. Turning, she saw an incredibly sexy, tall man standing amongst the heather, looking 
lost and confused.  It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere!

Nik tucked her flask back into her pocket and called to him, "Hey!  You there!"

The man looked at her, rubbing his prominent jaw with one of his large, burly hands.  Nik had 
never seen him before.  Where had he come from?

She walked over to him, noticing that he looked a little shaken.  Putting a hand on his arm, she 
peered up into his handsome face.  "Are you all right, sir?"

He looked down at her, opened his mouth, and then swayed on his feet.  Nik grasped his arms 
with both hands and helped him to sit on the ground.  Kneeling in front of him, she said, "My 
name is Nik Mulder.  I live over there at Norcross.  Who are you?"

At the sound of her name, the man instantly became alert.  "Walter Skinner, ma'am," he said, 
and the timber of his voice sent shivers cascading down Nik's spine. "I've lost my way.  Is there 
someone I could speak to at your home that might be able to help me?  A...brother, perhaps?"

Nik smiled, and it lit up her face.  Her dark hair blew about her enticingly.  "Certainly," she 
said, standing up and holding out her hand for him to take. He did so, allowing her to pull him 
to his feet.  He towered over her, although she was a tall woman for her time.  Picking up her 
skirt with one hand, she wrapped her other around Walter's arm and walked him back to 
Norcross.


Scully sat by the fire in the drawing room drinking her tea.  She was feeling much better after 
a good sleep the night before.  Pravda had brought her some tea and fruit, and Scully had 
found she'd had quite an appetite.  After eating, she had fallen into a deep sleep from which 
she had not awakened from until late this morning.

Watching the flames dancing in the grate, she wondered for the hundredth time what she was 
going to do.  She no longer felt capable of killing Lord Mulder, yet she knew she must in order 
to save her partner.  The only thing she could think to do was to put a double dose of the herb 
in his food. Thinking about it, her hand trembled so hard that she had to put her teacup down.   
As if to drive the knife into her heart even further, Lord Mulder appeared at the entrance to 
the room.

"Are you feeling well today, Dana?" he asked, his eyes seeking hers.

"Yes, thank you, Lord Mulder," She looked at her hands in her lap and would not meet his gaze.  
To her surprise, he came down before her on his knees and took her hand in his.  

"I asked you to call me Fox," he gently reminded her.

Slowly she lifted her eyes and looked at him.  The soft, sweet look she found there turned her 
heart over in her chest.

"Of course, Fox." She said, watching as he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss 
there. Reluctantly, she pulled it from his grasp.

"You mustn't," she whispered.

"Why not?" he asked her, smiling a little.  His smile was so like Mulder's that Scully was feeling 
confused and more than a little attracted to him.  She searched for a reason.  She had to keep 
this man at arms length so she could do what she needed to do.

"I..." Scully swallowed as he took her hand again and kissed the tip of her index finger, slowly 
drawing it into his mouth. "I..." she felt her breathing quicken as his tongue softly moved over 
her skin.  "I... I'm married!"  She said, and pulled her hand away quickly, hiding it in the folds 
of her skirt.

Lord Mulder looked as if he'd been struck. "What?" he whispered.

"I didn't tell you, but I am really running from my husband.  He...I found him with another 
woman."  Scully's mind was reeling as she tried to make up a plausible story.  Her heartbeat 
remained rapid from his attention to her finger. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but now 
that you...seem to be interested in me, I feel that I must."

"Interested...Dana, I love you!" Lord Mulder clasped both of her hands in his and looked at her 
earnestly.  Scully felt as if she were melting into the sofa.

"You...you can't!" she exclaimed, aghast.

"I can, and I do! Oh Dana, I think I fell in love with you the moment I met you," he put his head 
down on her hands, which he held tightly in her lap.  She loosened his grip on one and brought 
it up to touch his shining brown hair, brushing it away from his ear. "No..." she murmured.  He 
raised his head and looked at her with eyes that made her understand he was not lying or 
mistaken.  He was in love with her.  Slowly, he leaned forward and delicately touched his lips 
to hers, igniting sparks in her that made her gasp into his kiss.  His mouth opened slightly and 
his tongue touched her lips and Scully parted them, inviting him in.

The front door closed with a bang and footsteps approached.

"Brother," came Nik's exasperated plea; "we have company!"  She stood with hands on hips as 
Lord Mulder looked up from his place on the floor in front of Scully.  He took in the appearance 
of his disheveled sister and the large balding man beside her.  He got to his feet and Scully 
turned to look at them over her shoulder.  She blanched.

"You!" she said breathlessly, unable to believe her eyes. She looked him over.  He wore tan 
riding breeches and a white shirt unbuttoned halfway down the front.  Scully closed her eyes 
and then looked again, certain that she was hallucinating, but, after a shocked look at the man 
who looked like Agent Mulder, Skinner was boring a hole into her with his gaze.

"Dana," he said tightly.

Lord Mulder looked from one to the other.  "You know one another?" he asked her.

Jerkily, Scully got off the couch.  Thinking fast, she crossed the room to Skinner, standing in 
front of him.  "This, Lord Mulder, is my husband Walter."

Turning to Skinner, Scully said, "Husband, I really need to speak with you.  I am sure you are 
quite unhappy with me for running away."

"Yeah, I am," Skinner grumbled.  Lord Mulder gave him a funny look.

"You are from America?" He asked curiously.

Scully clasped Skinner's hand.  "Yes, he is...Excuse us, my lord."  She pulled Skinner out of the 
room and across the hall to the library.  Shutting the door, she turned and threw her arms 
around him, knocking him off balance.  They toppled onto the settee.  

"I've never been so happy to see someone in my life!"  She exclaimed, looking at him fiercely.  
Skinner adjusted himself on the seat and regarded her anxiously.  

"Scully, what is going on?  I mean...I know what Dr. Johns told me, but could we actually be in 
19th century England?  And the guy...he looks just like Mulder!"

"My dilemma, exactly," Scully said, hopelessness settling over her features.  "That is Mulder's 
ancestor that was supposed to die but didn't when Mulder appeared.  Dr. Johns says that if I 
kill him, Mulder will be all right.  Sir," she took Skinner's hand in hers and looked pleadingly 
into his eyes, "how is he?"  

Skinner was uncomfortable under her gaze and looked away.  "He doesn't have much time.  
You are going to have to do it very soon."

Scully let go of his hand and sat for a moment, tears coming to her eyes.  "I can't...I tried and 
failed.  I don't know if I can do it again."

Skinner sighed.  "I'm sure you didn't expect him to look exactly like Mulder."

Scully shook her head slowly.  "What am I going to do?"

Skinner thought a moment.  "Perhaps we can get him to take a walk with us...and kill him far 
from the house.  Near the portal where we came in."

Scully bit her lip.  It might work.  "I've brought my gun," she whispered. "Dr. Johns said to try 
to do it in a manner similar to what was supposed to happen, but I haven't had a chance.  It 
was a horse riding accident, I think.  But it seems to me that shooting him is our only plan at 
this point. I tried poisoning him, and it didn't work." Thinking a moment, she said, "Before you 
came in, I told Lord Mulder that I am married and ran from my husband because he cheats on 
me.  I did this to stop the advances he's been making on me.  It has all gotten so complicated, 
sir, that I don't know how to handle it."

"I'll do it for you, Agent Scully." He looked at her steadily, trying to transfer some of his 
strength and resolve to her. She wanted to tell him no, that she would do it as she had said she 
would, but she couldn't.  She felt she couldn't kill this man who looked so much like Mulder.

"I'm so glad you're here, sir...I was beginning to feel as if everything was so unreal.  It was 
getting harder and harder to remember home." She touched his arm.  At that moment, Lord
 Mulder burst into the room and Scully quickly pulled Skinner into an embrace, pressing her lips 
to his.  To give him credit, although AD Skinner was profoundly shocked at her actions, he got 
over it and held her tightly to him, kissing her in return with gusto.  When they pulled apart, 
breathless, Lord Mulder was eyeing them with his arms crossed over his chest.  Nik stood close 
behind him, a petulant look on her face.

Scully sat up and straightened her hair.  "Oh, my lord...we were just making up."

Lord Mulder stepped into the room, never taking his eyes from Skinner's face.
"Why would a man take other lovers when he has this angel to warm his bed?"

Skinner took a breath, the feel of Scully's lips still lingering white hot in his senses.  He stood 
up slowly. His first reaction would be to say he didn't know. Opening his mouth, he switched to 
something more appropriate for a cheating husband.

"I'd have to say that that is none of your business.  What I do in my home only concerns myself 
and my wife," he yanked Scully up off of the settee and held her to him.  Scully managed a 
flustered smile.

"My lord, I suppose I'll be returning home with my husband.  I'm sorry, but you'll have to find 
another companion for your sister.  Would you be so gracious as to show Walter around your 
grounds before we leave?  He has never visited such a place as this, have you darling?"

Skinner grunted his agreement.

"I'm afraid there is a storm brewing over the sea.  It will have to wait.  I am sure you can leave 
tomorrow as easily as today." Lord Mulder's gaze never wavered. Besides...where is your 
carriage?  Did you arrive on a horse, Mr. Skinner?"

Skinner frowned.  "There was a snake and he threw me and ran."  His tone was steely.

Scully saw through the window that a storm was indeed darkening the sky.  Knowing how 
severe they could be, she had to agree that it was imprudent to go outside at this time.  She 
looked at Skinner.  

"Husband, what say you?"

Skinner suppressed the urge to laugh at Scully's rendition of the dialect of the time, and 
rubbed his mouth with his fingers to hide his smile.  "Thank you, Lord Mulder," he finally said.  
"We would be delighted to stay the night here at Norcross.  Perhaps you will show me around 
on the morrow before we leave?"

Lord Mulder nodded, his hostility toward the man barely concealed.  As Skinner and Scully 
passed them on their way out of the study, Skinner felt Nik give him a playful squeeze on the 
ass.  He turned and looked at her and she winked.

" 'What say you?'" Skinner looked down at Scully, laughter in his eyes.

"Well, live here a few days and you'll be talking like that, too!" she hissed. She led him 
upstairs to the bedroom she occupied.

Lord Mulder took Nik aside in the hallway.  "You distract him tonight, my sister."

She looked up at him, but didn't ask why.  She didn't really care so long as she got to be alone 
with the big man.  Smiling, she nodded and went up to her room to find something enticing to 
wear.  She would win him from that little mouse Dana.  She took out her flask and drank from 
it until it was empty, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.  She would have to visit Cookie for some 
more of her special whiskey.  She belched heartily and looked at herself in the mirror.  Tonight 
was going to be one hell of a night.


Skinner stood by the open balcony door looking out over the wide expanse of heather-covered 
moor.  Scully walked up behind him and touched his arm where the sleeve was rolled up, 
exposing his tanned flesh.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said quietly.

He looked down at her.  "Agent Scully, this is the strangest thing that's ever happened to me."

She smiled. "I'm sure it is!  It is for me, too, and I've had some pretty strange things happen to 
me in the past seven years!"  They shared a laugh for a moment.

Skinner sobered and sighed.  "Listen, Dana...I really hate to tell you this, but Mulder was very 
bad off when I left."  He looked outside again.  "I didn't want to leave him."  His words chilled 
Scully's soul.  If Skinner felt that way, then the end was very near for Mulder. He wasn't one to 
give in to sentiment. She put a shaking hand to her face, not wanting to think about it, but 
knowing that she must.

His large hand reached out and pulled hers away so that he could look into the blueness of her 
eyes.  

"Dana, you must do something now.  I've been thinking about it, and frankly, I'm scared to 
wait until morning."

Scully's lip trembled and she bit down on it, turning away from him and walking out onto the 
balcony to stare past the garden and the moor to the raging sea beyond.  A cool wind blew her 
skirts as lightning flashed in the distance and a low roll of thunder shook the earth.

"Another thing," Skinner stepped up behind her.  "Dr. Johns said that there is a window of 
time to make it back through the portal."

Scully swung around to stare up at him with astonishment.  

"I know, he didn't tell you.  That's one of the main reasons that I am here.  Once you kill Lord 
Mulder, you have to make it back through the portal quickly.  If you don't, it will close on you 
forever."

Scully blinked.  "How long?" she asked.

Skinner shook his head.  "He wasn't sure.  Just as fast as you possibly can.  You remember 
where you entered, don't you?"  Scully nodded slowly.

She turned away again, straightening her shoulders.  This was something she had taken on to 
do.  She had to do it now. After a moment, she said, "Sir, would you please leave me for 
awhile?  I have some preparing to do."

Skinner drew in a breath, as if to question her, then she heard him blow it out softly.  "All 
right. I'll look around the castle."  He left the room, and Scully came inside, throwing the 
wardrobe open.  She looked through the dresses hanging there, discarding one after another.  
Finally, she gave up and looked in the bureau drawer.  Amongst the nightdresses, she came 
across one that was low cut and quite see-through.  She took it out and began to undress 
quickly, before she lost her nerve.  Donning the gown, she put her velvet robe over it and 
knotted the tie.  Taking a lantern, she left her room and went down the back stairs to the 
garden below. 

The wind was picking up and whipped through her hair as she dug up another of the herbs she 
had found before.  This time, she made certain that she had more than enough. 

**

Skinner walked down the hall, gazing at the portraits hanging on the wall.  Many of them bore 
a striking resemblance to Fox Mulder.

"Psst," Skinner heard a noise and turned around, looking in the shadows for its source.

"Lord Skinner, please come."

It was a woman's voice.  Skinner stepped forward and saw that it was the girl, Nik, standing by 
her bedroom door.

"If I may have a moment, I'd like to speak with you, Lord Skinner."

Skinner winced at the title.  "Please, call me Walter," he said, following her into the room.

Nik closed her door and stood against it, her eyes roaming over the man before her. She licked 
her lips, her eyes meeting his.

"You wanted to talk to me?" He asked, looking around and realizing that he was in the 
woman's bedroom. He took a step back.

"As a matter of fact," Nik purred, advancing on him, "talking was the last thing I had in mind."  
Slowly, she untied her robe and dropped it to the floor, exposing her completely nude body. 
Skinner's eyes widened in shock, embarrassment, and something else.

Her leg bent slightly and her dark hair waving about her, she made a sultry picture standing 
before him. He swallowed hard.

"What...er,...what..." Skinner was going to ask her just what it was she did have in mind, but 
that was pretty obvious.  She put her hands on his shoulders.

"I've never met a man as big and surly as you are," she said, running her fingers down the side 
of his face. Rising up on her toes, she kissed his lips softly.  Skinner made a sound deep in his 
throat, his hands coming up to push her away.  As they hovered near her bare hips, he suddenly 
changed his mind and pulled her to him roughly.  "What the hell," he muttered, claiming her 
mouth with his in a bruising kiss, his hands tangling in her hair.


Scully had Pravda fix a tea tray for herself and Lord Mulder, all the while ignoring her curious 
glances.  She carried it out and stopped in an alcove, quickly mixing the root she had crumbled 
into powder into the butter for the breads.  She carried the tray up the stairs and tapped on 
Lord Mulder's door with her foot.

"Who is it?" He didn't sound very happy.

Scully took a breath.  "Tis I, my lord," she said clearly, and the door opened within seconds.

He stood looking at her, his eyes roaming over her in the long velvet robe, taking in the tray of 
tea and the sly smile on her face.  Standing back, he invited her in.  She walked over to the 
table, setting the tray down.  In an instant, she felt him come up behind her, his breath hot on 
her neck.

"Isn't your husband missing you?" he asked in a low voice that sent her blood boiling with 
longing.

"He's asleep," she said quietly.  "I've brought you some tea, my lord."

"What are you really doing here, Dana?" He took her hand, kissing the palm.

She brought her eyes to meet his.  "I'm leaving tomorrow."  She swallowed.  "I-I came to say 
goodbye, my lord."

He pulled her close to him, almost too close for her to breathe, and tilted her head back with 
his hand.  Looking down into her eyes, he tried to read the emotion in them.

"You don't have to go back with him," he told her.  "Let him leave.  Stay with me."

Scully laughed derisively.  "He'll make me go with him.  I've come to tell you goodbye and 
to...thank you.  For the employment.  Please, my lord, sit and take tea with me."

"After," he said huskily, bringing his lips down on hers.  It took her breath away and Scully felt 
herself melting into his embrace as his warm mouth moved over hers. Her arms came up 
around his neck.  All the while her mind was screaming that she had to get him to sit down and 
eat before this went too far.  She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't allow it.  His arms were 
wrapped tightly about her waist and Scully made little panting sounds when his mouth left hers 
and drifted down her neck to her collarbone.  She closed her eyes, savoring the sensations he 
created under her flesh.

"Oh, oh..." she breathed, and then he had the robe undone and it was sliding from her 
shoulders.  He looked at the very thin nightgown, the front plunging well down between her 
cleavage, and sucked in his breath. The next thing she knew, his mouth was hot on her flesh 
again and she was quickly forgetting why she was there in the first place.  She had wanted 
Mulder for so long, and this was not Mulder.  But it was.  Her hands came up to pull at his hair 
as his lips traveled over her neck.  She was murmuring senselessly.  She wanted this very badly, 
yet she was at war with her need for haste. Her need to save her partner's life.

"My lord...the...the tea.  Let's sit a moment and drink some tea," she almost whimpered.

"To hell with the tea!" He growled and swept her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. This 
wasn't at all the way she thought it would go.  Yes, she had dressed for seduction in case she 
had to use it, but she hadn't thought she'd need to.  His hands were all over her now.

It didn't take long for Scully to realize that Lord Mulder was not going to stop for anything, and 
that she really didn't want him to. 
**
Sometime later, Lord Mulder disentangled himself from the sheets and stood gazing down at 
Dana.  Her red hair had come loose from the fall attachment and was spread prettily over the 
pillows.  Her mouth was pink and swollen from his kisses, and her smooth, pale body glowed in 
the moonlight from the balcony.

Happier then he'd ever been in his life, he grudgingly left the bedside and went over to the 
chair, seating himself and pouring a cup of the now chilly tea.  He leaned back, sipping it, 
taking hungry bites out of his roll.  He thought of the way it felt holding Dana in his arms and 
he smiled. She was so much more than he had ever imagined. His life had been an empty void 
before she came.  He took another bite of roll and thought about how he had even imagined he 
was going mad just before his trip.  He had seen something one day while out for his ride.  A 
man that looked exactly like him standing on the moor staring back at him.  It had disturbed 
him so much that he hadn't felt like continuing his outing and had left his horse with the 
groom.

He shrugged off the memory and took another sip of tea.  The large tabby cat that they kept to 
catch mice made its way languorously across the room, meowing its affection.  Lord Mulder 
reached down and pet him, smoothing his hand down its silky coat.  The cat cried out again, 
and Lord Mulder shushed it, reaching his finger into the butter dish and offering it to him, 
which it happily accepted.  

Leaning his head back, he let his mind wander to Dana's soft cries of pleasure and the way she 
had said his name over and over again.  At first it was Mulder...and then gradually Fox, which 
she seemed to take great pleasure it calling out. He grinned as he devised other ways to make 
her scream it.

The cat's scratchy tongue stopped it's lapping on his finger as the last of the butter 
disappeared.  A second later, an unearthly yowl came from its throat and it fell to the floor, 
lifeless.  Lord Mulder stared down at the dead animal in astonishment.  He raised his finger and 
looked at it, then slowly turned and his eyes settled on Dana sleeping on the bed.  A terrible 
certainty filled his mind.

**

Scully awoke with a start.  She sat up quickly, looking about her.  What time was it?  Where did 
he go?  She jumped out of bed, pulling on her robe and knotting it at the middle.  She searched 
for her slippers and when she found them, slipped them on her feet.  Walking around the bed, 
she suddenly stopped and gasped.  Lord Mulder lay sprawled on the floor, his body twisted.  A 
half-eaten piece of bread was in his hand and the butter dish lay beside him on the floor, 
empty.  Scully saw the used butter knife and took in the fact that all of the bread had been 
consumed.  She had put enough of the herb in that butter to kill an elephant.

Tears came to her eyes.  "I'm sorry," she whispered and, turning around, fled the room.  She 
had to find Skinner and they had to get to the portal before it was too late. She ran down the 
stairs and then down the hall to her room.  He wasn't there.

She started to head down another flight when she heard voices down the hall.  Picking up her 
robe, she ran in the direction of the sound.  Pausing in front of Nik's bedroom, she realized 
that was she was hearing was a lot of gasping and moaning.  She lifted her fist and pounded on 
the door.  The sounds stopped.  She pounded again.  "Skinner!" she called.  She heard a loud 
thump, and then footsteps.  

"Hurry!" she called as she heard him pulling on his pants.  

The door opened.

"We have to go now!" she said, grasping his hand in hers.  Nik walked up behind him.

"What are you doing here?  You can't have all of the men in the house!  Have you been to 
Albert's room as well? Perhaps the butler has warmed your bed..." Nik tried to pull Skinner back 
into her arms.

Scully ignored her and pulled Skinner from the room.  He sheepishly waved to Nik and then ran 
after her down the hall and down a flight of stairs, his bare chest glistening with sweat. 

When they reached the great double doors, they opened them and ran outside into the rain.  It 
was coming down in torrents and they bent their heads against it as they made their way down 
to the gate and out onto the open moorland. 

It was so dark that they could barely see if front of them.  Every now and again lightning would 
flash across the sky and they could adjust the direction they were going.

"Where is it?" Skinner yelled when they'd reached the spot where the portal should be.  

Scully walked in circles, the wind whipping her hair into her face.  A large gust blew her robe 
up and gave Skinner a good look at her legs and a little more.  Scully fought to keep it down, 
pulling it between her legs and holding them together.  Skinner put his arm out and felt around 
in the air.  Finally, he reached a point where half his arm disappeared until he pulled it back.  

"Here!" he yelled, and Scully ran to join him.  Together, they stepped through the portal.

They did not see that they had been followed, or the astonished eyes of Lord Mulder as he 
stood in the shadows of the oaks and watched them disappear.


Scully and Skinner changed their clothes at Dr. Johns' and immediately headed to the hospital.  
Skinner was typically silent on the way there, and Scully didn't initiate conversation.  She was 
too horrified at what she had done, and worried about Mulder's condition.  They walked 
quickly into the hospital and into intensive care.

Frohike intercepted them as they got off the elevator.

"There you are!  I've been trying to call you for an hour.  You guys'll never believe it, but old 
Mulder's come out of it!"  The little man was beaming from ear to ear.  Scully closed her eyes 
a moment in silent thankfulness and then asked him where he was.  Frohike directed her to his 
room. 

As she opened the door, she saw Mulder lying on the bed, the head of it partially raised.  He 
was channel surfing.  Tears came to her eyes and she walked in, feeling unbelievably relieved.
He turned to her.  "Scully..." he smiled at her and held out his hand.  She came forward and 
took it, giving it a squeeze.

Reaching his side, she said, "Mulder, I'm so relieved.  How are you feeling?"  Her voice was 
shaking, but she couldn't control it.

"I'm okay, Scully.  I'd really like to get out of here..."

Laughing, Scully shook her head.  "Oh no, you don't!  Just settle back and be content for a 
while, won't you?"  She sat on the chair beside him and he turned his head to look at her.

"Scully.  There's so much I have to tell you.  You wouldn't believe what happened to me!"

"I think I will, Mulder.   We have a lot to discuss."  Scully felt tired and a little weak.  She 
hadn't completely recovered from being sick herself.

"What do you mean?"  Mulder frowned.

"I don't want to get into it now, Mulder."  She watched his face for a long moment, a tender 
look upon her own features.

"Mulder," she said softly, leaning toward him and kissing him softly next to his mouth.  He held 
very still, not knowing what was going on with his partner, but unwilling to ask and spoil the 
moment.  "I have a lot I want to say to you.  But not now."  She got up and squeezed his hand 
again, letting it fall onto the bed.  "I'm going home.  I'll be back in the morning."  She leaned 
down and kissed him again, this time on the head.  

"Scully," he said, when she'd reached the door.  She turned and looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay? I mean, you're acting kind of funny.  This isn't the first scrape I've ever 
been in, and you've never kissed me before." The laugh that followed was shaky.

The tears wouldn't stay down and Scully swallowed hard.  "I�I know, but this time was 
different, believe me.  I'll see you tomorrow, Mulder."

She left the room and nodded to Skinner, who waited to see him.

"Did you tell him about all that's happened?" he asked her.

She shook her head, trying to control her emotions.  "No, I couldn't.  I just don't have the 
energy right now."

Skinner put his hand on her arm.  "Would you like me to do it?"

Scully looked up at him.  It would take a large burden off of her shoulders not to have to 
explain to Mulder herself what she had had to do.  She had enough she wanted to say to him 
without that added to it.  "Would you, sir?"

Skinner smiled.  "So it's sir, now, is it?  That was one short marriage we had, Agent Scully." 

Scully smiled back at him.  "Thank you," she said softly, touching his hand, and left the 
hospital.  She drove home with her mind in a fog.  She was so thankful that Mulder was all 
right.  She wanted to clear the air between them.  The events with Lord Mulder had made her 
realize that she wasn't doing herself any favors by suppressing her feelings for her partner. 
They needed to be dealt with, whatever the consequences.

Pulling up in front of her building, she climbed out of the car and locked the doors.  Selecting 
her door key from the chain, she entered the building and made her way down the hall to her 
apartment to unlock the door.  

It was a huge relief to go in and kick her shoes off, pour a glass of wine, and run a nice hot 
bath.  She was soaking in it when the phone rang. 

"Shit," she muttered, letting the machine pick up.

The voice after the beep sounded hurried and upset. "Dr. Scully, this is Dr. Johns.  I must see 
you.  I'm on my way to your apartment now."

Scully frowned.  What did he want?  Quickly, she finished her bath, dried off, and got dressed.  
Unlocking the door for him, she went into the kitchen and began making a pot of soup, thinking 
about the events that had occurred in the past few days.  When the knock came 20 minutes 
later, she called for him to come in.

"Dr. Scully, I'm sorry, but this was urgent."

Scully turned around to reply, a wooden spoon in her hand.  She frowned.  Mulder stood beside 
him.  "Mulder, I told you not to leave the hospital so fast!"  He stood there in jeans and a shirt, 
his face unreadable. But something was different.  Suddenly it came to her.  His sideburns...she 
came toward him, circling him to see the back of his head and the ponytail that hung there.  
She gasped, her hand rising to her throat.  "No!"

He looked down at her. He seemed bewildered at where he had found himself.  His 
surroundings, their attire.  But seeing her strengthened his resolve.  

"I followed you, Dana," he said quietly in his clipped British accent.  "I realized you were 
trying to kill me and pretended to be dead.  Why?" the last word was broken.  His eyes looked 
tortured.  Scully stared at him with her mouth open and then turned and grabbed up the 
telephone, dialing Skinner's cell phone.

"Sir...it's Scully.  How is Mulder?  Are you sure?  Now?  Yes, yes. I'll call you back."
 Sighing, she hung up the phone.  "He's still okay, Dr. Johns."

"I expected as much.  Traveling through time has caused Lord Mulder's disappearance at 
Norcross.  Albert was free to marry Lady Kate, just as if his brother was dead." 

Scully put her hand to her head, feeling sick.  She looked back at Lord Mulder and bit her lip.  
What was she going to do now?

"Listen, come sit down and eat."  Scully walked back into her kitchen and began dishing out 
soup.  It was all she could think to do at the moment. Lord Mulder was looking at the stove and 
appliances with wonder.

"What is this place?" he asked her as he sat down at her kitchen table.

She looked at him with pity.  "It's the future, Fox.  You have traveled over a hundred years 
into the future.  I'll explain it all to you later.  Hopefully someone will be able to come over 
tomorrow that can help you to understand."

He was looking at the jeans she wore.  Scully realized how strange her attire must seem to 
him.  "Women gave up wearing those long skirts quite awhile ago," she explained, taking her 
seat next to Dr. Johns, who was already eating his soup enthusiastically.

"This is amazing proof that my theories were correct," he said happily between bites.  Scully 
gave him a quelling look. 

"Bring him back tomorrow," she said.  "I'll have more information to give him then, after I go 
to the hospital."

Lord Mulder put his spoon down.  "I'm not going anywhere.  I'll stay here with you."

Scully looked at him.  "That isn't a good idea," she said.

"Because of your husband?" Lord Mulder asked her, his eyebrow raised.  "He didn't seem 
important to you when you were in my bed."

Scully felt the flush start at her neck and rise.  She glanced at Dr. Johns, who had stopped 
eating and was looking at her with interest.  She cleared her throat.  "I-I'm not really married.  
I'll explain it all to you tomorrow."  She stood up and took her untouched bowl to the sink, 
leaning heavily against it.  It was one thing to have an affair with a man from the past, while 
still in the past...knowing you'd never see him again.  But it was quite another to have him here 
in your present.  "It would be much, much better for you to stay with Dr. Johns, Fox." She said 
flatly, not looking at him.  The wallpaper over her stove has suddenly taken on a great interest 
for her.

Dr. Johns got up from his seat.  "I would love for you to stay with me, Lord Mulder.  I have 
many questions for you."

Sighing, he pushed his bowl away.  Scully could feel his gaze drilling into her back.  "I'll stay 
with you tonight, good doctor.  But not after."  He arose and walked over to Scully.  
Reluctantly, she turned and faced him.

Taking her hand, he kissed it gently.  "Until tomorrow, Dana," he said softly and she shivered 
involuntarily.

He walked out with Dr. Johns, and Scully sat down heavily in a chair.  She found her knees 
were quite weak.

+++

The next morning, Scully woke up early after a restless night and showered.  She got dressed 
and grabbed a banana on her way out, balancing a cup of coffee in the car as she drove to the 
hospital.

It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day as she pulled into the lot and parked her car.  
She paused to reapply her lipstick before getting out.  Her mind was a jumble of thoughts as 
she took the elevator up to the fourth floor.  Yesterday when she was here, she had planned a 
completely different conversation with Mulder.  She had wanted to tell him that she had 
realized that it wasn't right for her to hold her feelings for him in check like she had been 
doing for so long now.  She'd wanted to tell him that she loved him.

Now she didn't know what to say.  She was going to check him out with the doctor's permission 
and take him to her place; that much she knew.  What would happen when Dr. Johns arrived 
with Lord Mulder?

She knocked lightly on his door and smiled at the sound of his voice as he invited her in.

"How's the patient today?" she asked, perching on the side of the bed.

"Sick of being in here, Scully," he groaned.  "I'm fine now.  Nothing at all wrong with me."

"Has the doctor seen you?"  She moved to the bottom of the bed and flipped open the chart 
hanging there.

"Yep.  He agrees, I'm fine."

"Looks like he's going to discharge you," she let the chart dangle again from the bed frame, 
then turned and studied his face.  He looked healthy and ready to get on with life.  She felt a 
sudden rush of emotion for this man that she had shared so much with but held at arms length.  
Mulder had given quite a few hints in the past year or so that he was ready to take their 
relationship a step further, yet she still held back.  She didn't want to hold back any longer.

Seeing her expression, Mulder asked quietly, "What's on your mind, Scully?"

She licked her lips and turned her eyes to her hands held tightly in her lap.

"I have some things to discuss with you.  I'm taking you to my apartment."

Mulder raised a teasing eyebrow.  "Sounds promising, Scully."

She looked up and met his eyes.  Normally such a remark would be ignored or rebuffed, but 
this time Scully just gazed at him evenly, with a look that could be interpreted as yearning. It 
caused Mulder's stomach to flip and his heart to beat faster.  What did Scully have on her 
mind?

He watched her leave the room to speak with the doctor, and then climbed out of bed.  Taking 
his jeans and shirt out of the closet, he slowly got dressed.  He now regretted not telling Scully 
about the time travel before making the move to try it.  Skinner had told her what she'd been 
through for him, and he still was trying to digest it.  She'd killed a man for him? She, who 
worked so hard to save lives as a FBI agent and a doctor?

She reappeared in his doorway, smiling.  "You're all set, Mulder.  Are you ready?"

He looked at her, nodding.  Stepping closer to her, he said, "Scully, Skinner told me..."

She lifted her hand up, stopping him.  "Let's wait until we get to my place. There is a lot to 
discuss."

Mulder obediently closed his mouth, grabbing his jacket off the hanger and following her out.

The drive to Scully's seemed long when they were sitting in silence like this.  Mulder began to 
feel a nagging uncertainty in the back of his mind.  She obviously had something of some 
import to tell him.  Had it hit her unexpectedly hard when she was forced to acknowledge the 
existence of time travel and then commit cold-blooded murder in order to save him?  Mulder 
suppressed a short laugh.  <Gee, what do you think, Mulder?  Duh> Perhaps she was finally tired 
of dealing with him and his situations.  He squirmed in his seat, glancing over at her.  Her face 
was impassive, and he couldn't read it. The old, well-known fear of losing her gripped his 
heart. Her exit loomed ahead, and Mulder tried to squelch his curiosity until they got inside her 
apartment.  Then he wanted her to spill it.  This was killing him.

Scully opened her door and tossed her keys on the table.  She winced.  <I'm going to have to 
stop doing that> she mused.  She was making a mark on the polished wood.  She could feel 
Mulder only two steps behind her, a veritable volcano of curiosity and penned up anxiety.  She 
had worried him with her statement of wanting to talk with him about something important.  
She sighed and turned around, indicating the chair.  "Sit down, Mulder, you're making me 
nervous."

He backed up a step and deposited himself in the wingback.

"What's this all about, Scully?  You've got my full attention."

She lowered herself to the sofa and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers.  "Where do 
I begin?" she murmured.  Mulder's eyes were upon her, relentless in their probing.

"Begin at the beginning," he said, settling himself back, and forcing his limbs to relax.  He 
watched as she looked at the ceiling, as if for inspiration.

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh, shit," she said, her eyes meeting his.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"  Mulder asked her, looking past her.

Scully hesitated.  "Mulder, brace yourself," she said, rising from the couch.  She disengaged 
the dead lock and opened the door.  Dr. Johns stood there uncertainly with Lord Mulder beside 
him.  As Scully moved aside and they walked in the door, Lord Mulder paused to lean in next to 
her ear.

"I missed you last night," he breathed, loud enough for only her to hear.  His warm breath 
tickled her ear and she stiffened.

Mulder leaned forward to see who it was, and quickly sucked in his breath.  Standing, he 
walked toward his partner and the two men.  Lord Mulder's reaction was more violent.  At the 
sight of Mulder, he grasped his chest and stepped back in astonishment.  Alarmed, Scully 
reached for him, drawing Mulder's gaze.  He noted her evident concern, and then returned his 
stare to his look-alike.  This was the man he had seen just before he collapsed.  This was the 
Lord Mulder that Skinner had spoken of last night.  The man that Scully went to kill.

"You..." the 19th century lord pointed a shaking finger at him.  He had a British accent, Mulder 
noted as he circled the man slowly.  He was dressed modernly in jeans and a pullover sweater, 
his hair long and swept back at the nape of his neck, and his sideburns longer than his own.  He 
was slightly broader than Mulder was, and perhaps an inch shorter.  A tall man for his time. 
Other than these slight differences, Lord Mulder was his exact replica.  Mulder was intrigued, 
just as he had been in that moment when he'd found himself standing on the English moor.

"Fox," Scully said gently, taking Lord Mulder's hand.  "This is your ancestor...Fox Mulder."  Lord 
Mulders' eyes searched hers and she saw fear lurking beneath the confusion.

"Albert and Lady Kate Winthrop were his great, great, great grandparents."

Lord Mulder's eyes widened and Scully led him over to the couch.  She sat beside him.

"You were supposed to die in a riding accident on the day that you saw Mulder, here," she 
gestured to her partner.  "But because you saw him, for some reason it didn't happen."  She 
stopped, leaving it for him to supply the answer.  

He looked only at her, as if afraid to face the living impossibility standing at his elbow.  "I-I 
thought I was going mad," he said.  "He was there, and then he wasn't.  I lost my interest in 
the ride and went home."

Scully nodded slowly, rubbing his cold hands with her own to warm them.  "The course of your 
family history changed when you weren't killed.  My partner here was not born.  When he saw 
you, he began to deteriorate quickly."  She glanced Mulder's way, tears pricking behind her 
eyes.

"You came to save him," Lord Mulder whispered, finally understanding.  "So you were trying to 
kill me, weren't you?"

"Yes," she whispered.  "I'm sorry."

Mulder was staring at Lord Mulder during this exchange.  Every now and then he'd glance at Dr. 
Johns, who seemed to share his intense excitement.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this last night," he finally said to Scully, astonishment 
evident in his eyes.  She looked up at him.

"I didn't know he'd followed us then.  Not until I got home.  Skinner still doesn't know."

Mulder looked at Dr. Johns. "Can he go back?" 

Scully stiffened.  If he went back, Mulder would die.

Dr. Johns shook his head.  "The portal won't accept him."

"You tried?" Scully was incredulous.  The old man stood his ground.

"When he first appeared, I tried to push him back.  There is no telling the repercussions of 
having him here, Dr. Scully.  You must realize this."

Scully knew he was right, but the thought that it would have killed Mulder shook her to the 
core.  She looked at her partner, who was staring at his ancestor with a kind of wild 
incredulity.  Scully was frankly shocked at his reaction.  She'd expected him to be upset, not 
intrigued.  Yet it made sense when she stopped to think about it.  Here was proof of time 
travel sitting in her living room:  Mulder's great, great, great uncle.  It was amazing and mind-
boggling.  She cleared her throat and asked, "What are we going to do now?"

"We need to call Skinner," Mulder replied.

"The man you called your husband?"  Lord Mulder asked Scully.

"He's our superior." Mulder supplied.  "Scully and I work for the Federal Bureau of 
Investigation."  Seeing Lord Mulder's confusion, he amended, "We work for the good of the 
country.  Skinner does, too."

Lord Mulder looked at Scully.  "This is America...that's why you talk the way you do.  You were 
pretending to be British."  Scully fidgeted under his scrutiny.  She felt incredibly guilty.

Mulder had taken out his cell phone and was dialing Skinner. 

"Sir, it's Mulder.  Yes, fine.  I've been discharged and I'm at Scully's.  Evidently my ancestor 
followed you through the time portal."  Mulder pulled the phone away from his ear at Skinner's 
loud expletive.  "Yes, I know.  We'll be here."  He turned off the phone.

"Skinner's on his way."  Mulder sat down and tried not to stare.  He couldn't believe this turn 
of events.

Lord Mulder got up from the couch.  "If you don't mind, I was awake most of the night talking 
with the good doctor.  Dana, is there somewhere I can lie down for awhile?"  

Dr. Johns looked sheepish.  "I did have a lot of questions for him.  He didn't get much sleep, if 
any at all."

Scully stood up beside him.  "Of course.  Come with me."  She led him to her spare bedroom, 
pulling down the covers and fluffing the pillows.  When she turned, she saw that he had rid 
himself of his shirt and was pulling off his jeans and underwear.  Completely nude, he walked 
to the bed and sat down on it.  She sucked in her breath.

"It's rather late for modesty, Dana," he said, stretching out on the clean sheets.  Her face 
burned as the memory of their coupling surfaced.  Lord Mulder had been an exceptionally 
ardent lover.  She pulled the coverlet to his waist and he placed his hand on hers, their eyes 
meeting.

Scully jumped when she heard Mulder's voice at the door.  He stood there taking everything in, 
and then raised his eyes to her face.  "Phone for you," he said in an even tone, and she felt his 
unwavering stare as she moved past him through the doorway.  He looked back at Lord Mulder, 
who had deliberately shifted on the bed, exposing his bare hip and thigh. He wanted there to 
be no doubt that he had been nude in front of Dana.  Mulder's jaw tightened.

"Lucky man you are---having the fair Dana risk her life for you," Lord Mulder said, lifting his 
arms behind his head and resting it on his hands.  Mulder stood motionless, his eyes revealing 
nothing.

Lord Mulder smiled slightly.  "Yet it was lucky for me, also." With a squirm that could be 
nothing but sensual, he sighed and said "Dana is a passionate woman.  Or perhaps you already 
know this..."

Mulder blinked and then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Lord Mulder settled himself on the pillows.   

<He hasn't been with her> he thought smugly, and went to sleep.


It was her mother on the phone, and Scully tried to talk to her without sounding as if anything 
was amiss.  She ended up promising to have dinner with her soon, and hung up with a sigh.  She 
was sitting on her bed with her hand still on the phone when Mulder appeared in the doorway.  
His gaze was steady and Scully was the first to look away.

'Was this what you wanted to speak to me about, Scully?" He asked quietly.

"I wanted to warn you before you saw him, yes.  However, it wasn't what I wanted to speak to 
you about yesterday.  That will have to wait, I think."

Mulder crossed the room and leaned against the chest of drawers, his arms wrapped around his 
middle.  His eyes were hard and almost cold.  Scully shivered inwardly.  <He knows> she 
thought miserably, and stood up to face him.  Reaching out, she touched his arm and he 
seemed to shrink from her.  Hurt, she pulled back and let her hand fall to her side.  

"Was it necessary to sleep with him in order to kill him, Scully?  It certainly puts a new twist on 
the phrase 'a crime of passion'. I think you got a raw deal, though."  He tilted his head,  "Or 
maybe not...he looks pretty virile.  Those lords of the castle can really nail 'em good, I hear."

Scully fought the tears that threatened to surface.  "Shut up, Mulder.  Just shut up.  It 
happened, all right?"

"I'll say it did.  He's in there still recovering from it."

White, hot anger boiled inside of Scully, fighting for its place beside her humiliation.  She 
walked away from him and felt him instantly, right on her heels.  Annoyed, she swung around 
and pushed him, catching him off guard and knocking him backward onto the bed.

"I did it for you!" She hissed, and he smiled sardonically.

"Where are my manners?  Did I forget to thank you, Scully, for screwing my dead relative in 
order to save my life?"

Scully clenched her fists at her sides.  She wanted to wipe that smug look off of his face.  The 
doorbell rang and she let out the breath she'd been holding in preparation for striking him.

"That'll be Skinner," she said through gritted teeth.

"Do I need to thank him, too?" Mulder asked as he got up and followed her into the living room.  
"What type of sexual favors did Skinner have to perform in order to save my life?"

Scully pursed her lips and ignored him, opening the door for their boss.  He walked in, eyes 
sweeping the room.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"In the guest room," Scully said.

"Probably smoking a cigarette," Mulder mumbled.  Scully shot him a withering look.

"What are we going to do now?  Why did he follow us here?"  Skinner looked back and forth 
between the two agents, Dr. Johns remaining in the background.  When no reply was 
forthcoming, the older man stepped forward.

"I believe I know why.  He seems to be enamored with Agent Scully."

"That's an understatement," Mulder replied glibly.

"Well, he can't stay here," Skinner stated, rubbing his jaw.

"Why not?  If he goes back, I die.  Besides, he can't go back.  As I see it, he's got it made 
where he is anyway.  He's got a ready-made family, and a girlfriend, to boot!  What more could 
a guy fresh from 19th century England ask for?"

Skinner sneered, "Shut up, Agent Mulder.  This is no time for your sarcastic wit.  We have a 
real dilemma here."

"Actually," Dr. Johns spoke up again, "I may have the answer to this, too."

All three agents looked at him expectantly and with no little surprise.

Dr. Johns smiled, enjoying his moment in the spotlight.

"Just as Agent Mulder could not withstand his history being altered, Lord Mulder will not 
either.  He will slowly begin to sicken and die.  I don't know how long it will take, but it will 
happen.  He already seems tired.  The time travel weakens the body, and coupled with the fact 
that he is technically dead, he doesn't stand a chance."

There was silence for a moment, and then Skinner let out a breath of air.  "Well...I guess all we 
can do, then, is keep him under wraps until it happens."

"Just let him die?" Scully asked, knowing the answer.

"What else is there to do, Agent Scully?  At least you don't have to kill him."

"Not that she was particularly good at that," Mulder added, earning a caustic look from 
Skinner.

"That's enough, Agent Mulder.  I suggest you go home and get some rest."

"And leave Scully with Casanova in there?" He exclaimed. 

"I'll be fine," Scully said stoically.

Mulder grabbed up his jacket and leaned in close to her ear, much like his double had done not 
long before.  "I'll bet you will," he intoned, and went into the hall to wait for Skinner to drive 
him home.

Skinner touched Scully's arm reassuringly.  "He's just blowing off steam.  He'll get over it."

Scully blinked back tears of anger and hurt.  She shook her head.  "I don't know, Sir."

"Will you be all right alone with him?" Skinner tipped his head toward the guest room.

"Yes, Sir."  

Skinner nodded and went out the door.  "Call me if you need me," he said.  Mulder stood at 
the end of the corridor, waiting impatiently.  Scully met his eyes for a moment before he 
turned away.

Dr. Johns joined her.

"I'm sorry to leave you in this situation.  Please bring Lord Mulder by tomorrow.  I have so 
much to speak with him about."

Scully nodded and the little man left.  She went back inside her apartment and glanced toward 
the closed guest room door.  She thought about checking on him, but was afraid she'd wake 
him up.  She didn't have the energy to deal with him right then.

Going into the kitchen, she began cleaning up the dinner dishes.  Her hands were shaking.  The 
things that Mulder had said to her kept replaying in her mind.  She knew it had hurt him to find 
out that she had slept with Lord Mulder, but, dammit!  She wasn't his private property!

She wiped her tears on her sleeve as she loaded the dishwasher.  She understood that he had 
feelings for her and felt betrayed.  She hated that they had left things this way.

***

Mulder let himself into his apartment and flung his keys at the wall.  His head was pounding 
and he rummaged through the drawer for some aspirin.  Skinner hadn't said a word to him on 
the way home.  He didn't mind�he was too busy thinking about the smug look on that asshole's 
face as he lay there naked in Scully's guest bed.  He had made love to her...

Mulder's insides churned at the thought.  He had to shut his mind off completely in order not to 
picture them together.  He didn't know if it was good or bad that the guy looked just like him.  

Throwing himself on the couch, he picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.

<I told Scully I loved her, and she blew it off.  I kissed her on New Years!  What did this 
ancestor of mine do in two days that I didn't do in seven years?>

It wasn't so much that he wanted to have slept with her by now; it was just that their 
relationship had hit a standstill long ago.  Scully had not allowed him to get any closer and it 
hurt him deeply that she so easily fell into bed with this British lout.

Mulder had been sitting there for 30 minutes playing over every possible scenario in his mind 
that could have taken place between Scully and Lord Mulder, when there was a knock at the 
door.  He looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Scully standing in the hall, her 
head bowed.  He let her in.

"Where's the boyfriend?" he asked.

Scully crossed the threshold and stood with her hands deep in her coat pockets.

"Mulder, I'm sorry I hurt you," she said solemnly, meeting his hard look with one of sadness.

Mulder blinked.  He didn't know how to respond.  He wanted to deny that she'd been able to 
hurt him, but knew she'd recognize the lie for what it was.

He sighed, too tired now to spar with her.  

"Scully, you've held me off for sometime now.  I told you how I feel.  I've shown you."

"Are you referring to your drug-induced confession of love or your brotherly Millennium 
celebration kiss?"

Mulder's mouth hardened.  "Both," he said, "and I'm sorry to hear you took them so lightly."

"Mulder, I honestly don't think you were totally with it when you told me you loved me that 
time." She held up her hand before he could say anything.  "And, although the kiss was nice, it 
certainly didn't say anything to me.  Let's face it, Mulder, you like to play it safe."

"And you don't?"  Mulder laughed incredulously.  "You aren't exactly easy to get close to, 
Scully."

"I'm not?  Have you ever really tried?"  Scully turned and walked into the living room, swinging 
around to look at him.  "I mean, you dance around everything, Mulder!  With all your 
innuendoes and casual touches.  What am I supposed to think?"

"Well, what did Sir Galahad do for you?  Did he sweep you off your feet and carry you to his 
bed?"

Scully blushed.  That was exactly what he had done.  Mulder's jaw dropped and he clenched his 
fists.  Taking a step toward her, he put his hands out, palms up in supplication.

"Scully, that's not us."

She smiled slightly.  "No, it's not."  She moved toward him.  "But he's so like you on the 
outside that I could pretend it was you."  She moved close to him and placed her hands on his 
shoulders.

"Did you?" He asked in a low voice.

"Oh, yes," she said.  "As far as I was concerned, Mulder, it was you and I in that bed."

Mulder brought his hands up around her waist.  "Was I any good?"

Scully felt her heart beat faster as she stood so close to him.  The moment was surreal. She 
remembered her night with Lord Mulder, and she remembered thinking of her partner while she 
was giving her body to him. "You were...magical, Mulder," she said, kissing his chin.  She felt 
him stiffen.

"Scully...it wasn't me!  And the man that you made love with is in your apartment right now.  I 
suggest you go back there and work out your feelings.  We are not the same person, you 
know." He stepped away from her.

"I'm aware of that, Mulder."  Scully put her hands on her hips.  "Listen, I didn't come here to 
argue with you.  I came to say I was sorry that I hurt you.  I didn't want you to find out this 
way."

"You were going to tell me yourself?"

Scully rolled her eyes, exasperated.  "Mulder, I was going to tell you, yes, but I had other 
things I wanted to discuss with you first.  And I didn't expect him to follow us like he did.  I 
tried to kill him, Mulder.  I thought I had succeeded."

Mulder looked at her.  "So tell me how it happened, Scully."

"What?  How I tried to kill him?  I put poison in his food.  He found out and tricked me into 
thinking he'd eaten it.  I was in a hurry to leave---I should've checked to be sure."

Mulder sat down on the couch, arms on elbows, looking at the floor.  "How many times, 
Scully?"  She frowned.  "Twice, actually.  The first time he vomited it all up."  

He shook his head. "No, how many times were you with him...that way."

Scully's face fell.  "Oh.  Only once."  She came and sat down beside him.  "Just before I left.  I 
couldn't get him to eat the food I brought him, and I couldn't fight him off anymore...I didn't 
want to."

Mulder looked at her, his eyes clouded over.

"It's been a long while since I've been with a man," her voice was almost a whisper.  "He 
wanted me, and...and I wanted you.  I gave in."

Mulder's eyes were glued to her lips as she spoke.  His heart felt heavy.  Perhaps she had 
thought of him while she did it, but, God, it hurt to think about it.  He wanted to kiss her hard 
and erase the memory of those other lips on hers.  

Once again, he waited a beat too long, and the moment was lost.  Scully stood up and walked 
to the door.

"I couldn't leave things the way they were tonight, Mulder." She stared at him.  "I'm sorry I 
hurt you, but I don't owe you an apology for what I did.  We don't have that kind of a 
relationship and I really don't owe you an explanation.  Whether this will change remains to be 
seen."  She left, closing the door behind her.
***

Lord Mulder shifted in the darkened room.  Dana had left�he'd seen the note.  She'd gone to 
talk to that fellow that looked like him.  Only Albert could spawn such a weak specimen.  He 
never had his courage and bravado.  The thought of that weakling ruling over Norcross was 
enough to make his blood turn cold.  And if they thought he was going to sit around here until 
he died, they were sadly mistaken.  He'd heard what Dr. John's had said.

He stood up and slipped into his clothes.  Furthermore, he was not convinced that he couldn't 
make it back through the portal.  If he had Dana with him, he felt certain that it would open 
and admit them both.  Then he would have his castle, his life, and the woman he loved.  He 
smiled and went into the living room to await Dana's return.

When Scully entered her apartment, Lord Mulder was stretched out on the couch staring at the 
television set as if mesmerized.  Smiling, she sat down beside him.  

"Amazing, isn't it?"  She said softly.  He tore his eyes away from the animated box and looked 
at her.  He took her hand.

"Not half as amazing as the vision before me."  Gently, he traced her chin with one finger.  
Grasping his hand, she stopped him.

'What happened between us won't happen again," she told him, looking directly into the liquid 
pools of his eyes.  She could count at least four shades of green in them.

"You are much too hard on yourself, Dana," he whispered.  "Why do you try so hard to deny 
yourself pleasure?"

"Some things are more important than pleasure, Fox," she said earnestly.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.  His breath tickled her face.  "Such as?"

"Such as love," she replied, resolutely pushing him away with both hands. 

"I do love you, Dana," he said, and she believed him.

She remained still, looking at him for what seemed an age.

Finally, he said, "You think you love him. The interest lies in the pursuit.  I hear that you've 
been with him for seven years, yet have no physical relationship."

Scully opened her mouth in surprise.  "Who...?"

Lord Mulder leaned back into the sofa.  "Dr. Johns told me how long, but I discerned that you 
have not been together.  I can tell.  And why is this, Dana?  If the man truly wanted you, he 
would've taken you."

Scully bridled.  "It isn't like that in this day and time.  Women aren't 'taken'."

"So you're saying he has tried and you've denied him?"  Lord Mulder considered her for a 
moment.  
Scully was silent and he edged forward.  "Either he doesn't want you, or something is more 
important to him."

Tears blurred her vision as Scully realized the truth in that statement.  Always, the X Files had 
come before anything else.  She'd understood and even agreed with this for a long while, but 
now she found that life was passing her by.  Mulder had said he'd tried to get closer to her, but 
Scully knew he hadn't tried very hard. She looked at his duplicate sitting before her, love and 
longing apparent in his eyes.

"Still, I love him," she said.

"Perhaps you do, in a way.  Perhaps your love is devotion and respect.  But you cannot know 
true love, Dana, until your love is returned."

A tear escaped the edge of her eye and made its way down her face to drop onto her lap.

"I know that he loves me," she said.  

Lord Mulder grasped her hand in his warm one. "But does he love you as I do, Dana...with an all 
consuming passion? Has he made it plain that he wants to devote himself to you, or is there 
always a piece of him that you cannot have?"

Scully swallowed her tears and stared past him at the wall.

"I pledge myself to you, Dana.  I give myself all to you,...my love."  Slowly he pulled her into 
his arms and rained kisses on her face.

A sob escaped her lips as she allowed her own arms to encircle his neck.  No reticence, no 
games.  She longed for him.  It was as if Mulder had split into two parts and this was the part 
she needed most now. The man who needed and wanted her and was not afraid to show it.  
She buried her face in his neck and cried.

A moment later, she pulled away from him, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"It's late...I'm going to bed now."  She got up off the couch.  "Alone," she added, resolutely.

She shut the door to her bedroom and considered locking it.  She doubted a lock would keep 
him out, though, if he really wanted to get in.

Sitting on her bed, she thought of Mulder.  If he loved her, what kept him from acting on it? 
She understood that when he was searching for Samantha, it consumed him.  He had no room 
for anything else, and it was that way since she first met him. Now that those questions had 
been answered for him, what stood in the way?  She stretched out on the bed, feeling 
miserable in the knowledge that she was still not the most important thing in her partner's life.  
If Lord Mulder weren't merely a shadow from the past, she might be tempted to accept his 
advances and give up on Mulder completely as a lost cause.  Perhaps he was truly emotionally 
dysfunctional...an idea she had entertained once or twice over the seven years she had known 
him.  His less-than-perfect life growing up had scarred him to where it was impossible for him 
to have a normal relationship.  If this was true, then her partnership with him had hit a 
complete standstill.  There was no where to move but forward, and if he was unwilling to 
initiate it, she certainly wasn't going to do it.

What had happened since the moment in Mulder's hallway when he had been ready to kiss her?  
A kiss Scully felt certain wouldn't have even vaguely resembled the one he gave her at New 
Years.  The only thing Scully could imagine was that he regretted the action, and had cast in 
into his mental trash bin.  Or, it may have been a desperate ploy to keep her with him.  Mulder 
may need her only as his emotional crutch.

Scully sighed.  She was forced to take on an aggressive role in her profession.  She could not be 
seen as anything less than her male counterparts.  Consequently, she did not want to take on 
the lead role in her private life.  If Mulder wanted her, he was going to have to make the first 
move.  

Scully fell asleep hours later, still pondering.

When she awoke the next morning, she found Lord Mulder dressed and rummaging through her 
refrigerator.

"I don't suppose you have a cook, Dana?" he asked, looking splendid in the jeans and 
turtleneck she had found in her drawer that belonged to Mulder. She'd discovered them a 
month ago in her trunk when cleaning it out.

"No, sorry.  Here, let me make you some oatmeal."  She got a pot out and set water on to boil.  
Lord Mulder's gaze never left her.

"Dana, I wonder if you could arrange for that partner of yours to take me to Dr. Johns' today.  
I would like the chance to get to know him.  Besides, he must be curious about me, or he 
wouldn't have made the trip to my time."

Scully looked at him, surprised.  She had planned to take him herself and invite Mulder along.  
The request, though, gave her an out.  She didn't relish being in the middle of the testosterone 
brigade.  Perhaps distance from both men would be good for her.

"Okay, maybe that's a good idea.  I'll call him."

Scully measured out some oatmeal and picked up the kitchen phone.  Lord Mulder watched her 
with interest as she dialed.  Slowly, he got up from his chair and came to stand beside her.  
She stiffened a little, until she realized that he wanted to know how the phone worked.  She 
tilted the receiver so that he could hear.

"Mulder," came the voice on the other end.  Lord Mulder startled and Scully smiled.

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey," he sounded groggy.

"Still asleep?" she asked.

"Mmmm."

Scully licked her lips.  "Well, I wondered if you would come and take your relative over to Dr. 
Johns today."  She glanced at Lord Mulder, only inches away from her face.  "He wants to 
spend time with you."

"You're not going?"  Mulder asked, sounding more awake.

"No.  I think I'll go to the office and get some paperwork done."

"Trouble in paradise?" Mulder asked after a beat.  Lord Mulder looked puzzled.

"So will you?" Scully ignored his infantile jibe.

Acid crept into Mulder's tone. "I suppose if my dear uncle wants to spend quality time with 
me, I should indulge him.  Maybe he can teach me some things."

"Mulder..." Scully's voice held a warning edge.

"How to get the woman you love into bed in less than 7 years...hell, in less than 7 days!"

"Mulder..." Scully gritted her teeth.

"Seven hours? Shit, Scully, I hope it wasn't seven minutes! I thought I knew you better than 
that."

Lord Mulder was smiling.

"Be here by one," she hung up loudly.

"If only he directed some of that childish anger toward winning you," Lord Mulder 
contemplated.

Scully stirred the oatmeal.  "He doesn't need to 'win' me," she said.  She felt his heat behind 
her and suddenly his hands were on her shoulders.

"But it would be nice if he tried..." Lord Mulder turned her around and his lips grazed hers.

Scully's hand came up and rested on the hardness of his chest.  It was difficult to remember 
that this man was not Mulder.

"You could return with me, Dana," he said softly into her hair.  "Do you really plan to just let 
me die here?"

Scully gasped and looked up at him.  "How did you know?"

"I overheard you talking with the bald man."

Scully's face crumpled.  "I'm so sorry, Fox."

He pulled her closer to him.

"We could set the date forward...give Albert the time to begin his line of descendants.  That 
would save your Mulder's life.  Or do you really have a life here that you cannot bear to leave?"

Scully thought about that.  Her mother, yes.  But Mulder had reached his closure about 
Samantha, the consortium was gone,...what held her here, really?  It was time for her to have a 
life of her own.

To go back and live in that time, though?  Could she really do it?

Gently, she disentangled herself from his embrace and began dishing out the oatmeal.  She put 
some butter and sugar in it and set it on the table.

"Eat.  I'm going to take a shower."  She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

When Scully finished showering, she dressed and packed her briefcase.

"Mulder will be here within an hour. I'm going on to the office."

Lord Mulder sat on the sofa, looking through a photo album that had been sitting on her coffee 
table.

"You have a beautiful family," he said.

Scully smiled and went to stand behind him, bending over to look at the picture of her parents 
and siblings.  "Thanks," she said quietly.  "My father's passed away... I miss him."

Lord Mulder looked up at her.  "I miss my parents, too." He said quietly and their eyes held a 
moment.  He looked back down at the book.  "Who is this little girl?" he asked, pointing to the 
picture of Emily.  Her only picture of Emily.

"She was my daughter.  She's dead."  Scully's voice was hard and she straightened up and 
moved toward the doorway.

"I'm so sorry.  I...I've always wanted children."

Scully stopped, her hand on the knob.  It tightened as she turned it.  "That's one thing you 
wouldn't have with me," she said very softly.  "I can't have anymore children."

Lord Mulder stood up and walked over to her.  "That may not be the case if you travel back 
with me."

Scully looked up at him.  

"Because you have traveled back in time, you may be able to have children like you once 
could."

Scully felt the tears coming again.  "You don't know that that's possible," she said.

He touched her hair.  "You don't know that it isn't."

Scully stood there a moment, his body warm next to hers, and then opened the door.

"I'll see you later, Fox." And she left.



Five minutes after she had gone; Mulder knocked on the door.  Lord Mulder exited Scully's 
bedroom and opened it.

Warily, the two men considered one another.

"I hope it was not an inconvenience for you to accompany me today...nephew."  Lord Mulder 
said in his clipped British.

"No sweat, Unc," Mulder muttered, looking about Scully's apartment as if seeking evidence of 
what had gone on the night before.

"Are you ready?" He finally asked.

"Quite.  Oh...wait," Lord Mulder stopped on his way out the door.  "How silly of me!  I've 
forgotten my shoes."  He looked ruefully at his stocking feet.  "Where did I leave them last 
night?  Oh yes..." He walked into Scully's bedroom.  Mulder followed and stood rigidly in the 
doorway as Lord Mulder bent beside Scully's bed and retrieved his shoes.  He slipped them on 
and then smiled over at him.  "I'm ready now."  He waked past Mulder and then out of the 
apartment.  

The blood was pumping so hard in Mulder's ears that he couldn't hear for a moment.  Surely 
Scully had not been with him again last night.

He swung around and walked out the door, meeting Lord Mulder outside.  He passed him and 
went straight to his car, unlocking the doors.

Lord Mulder got in the passenger's seat and looked around.  Automobiles were fascinating 
contraptions.

They drove in silence, Mulder clenching and unclenching his jaw.  He wanted to put his hands 
around Lord Mulder's neck and squeeze.  Fortunately, he knew the guy hadn't much time left.

Dr. Johns was expecting them and greeted them at the door.  "It is so amazing to see the two 
of you together," he chortled.  "Have a seat, please."  The two men sat down.  The doctor had 
a list of questions that he wanted to ask Lord Mulder.  Mulder found himself intrigued in spite 
of himself, and even grudgingly asked a few questions of his own.  The tidbit about the name 
Fox came up, and he was amused by it.

"Doctor, let me pose a question to you," Lord Mulder finally said.  "If someone had a condition, 
such as ...infertility, and it was something they were not born with, if they traveled back in 
time, would this condition be reversed?"

Dr. Johns considered a moment.  "It is highly probable..." He went on to explain the scientific 
reasons for this, but Mulder didn't hear any of it.  His head was spinning and his heart beating 
loudly in his chest.  Why had Lord Mulder asked that question? Was it something that Scully 
wanted to know?  Had she told him of her infertility?

If she were to go back in time, she could have children...His heart constricted.  He blamed 
himself for her inability to have them.

It was getting dark when Scully showed up at the door.

"What are you two still doing here?"  she asked. "I finished my paperwork and called home..." 
she looked from one man to the other. The tension was thick.  "Why don't we grab a bite to 
eat?"

Dr. Johns begged off, so Mulder followed Scully and Lord Mulder to a nearby restaurant.  

The meal was spent in near silence.  

"Well, this has been fun," Scully said dryly, putting down her napkin.  Lord Mulder reached 
over and covered her hand with his own.  "Sorry, Dana.  I'm a bit tired, I guess."  

Scully looked concerned.  "Are you feeling all right?"

Mulder drummed his fingers on the wood and Scully glared at him.

"What?" he asked innocently.  Picking up the check, he unwrapped his long legs from under the 
table and got up to pay it.

"We'll go home and you can get into bed," Scully said, helping him up.

"It's all right, Dana, I'm merely worn out from the questioning of the afternoon."  He glanced 
over at Mulder standing at the counter.  "I fear your partner cannot wait for my demise."

Scully squeezed his hand. "Perhaps we can do as you suggested�pick a later date and then 
send you back.  It's possible the only reason Dr. Johns couldn't get you through before is 
because you'd just come through it, or perhaps because you didn't want to go back."

He looked at her with his heart in his eyes.  "I won't go without you, Dana."

Scully blinked.  "But you must...if it can be done, it's the only answer."  He shook his head 
sadly.

Mulder returned.  "Hate to break this up, but the check's paid..."

Scully grabbed her purse.  "Please take him back to my apartment.  I have something I need to 
do."

He gave her a puzzled look, and shrugged. Scully got into her car and drove back to Dr. Johns'.

***
"Why Agent Scully...what are you doing back here?"

Scully pushed her way inside and turned to face the old man.

"Dr. Johns�would it be possible to set the time ahead a few years�perhaps 1968�and send 
Lord Mulder back then?  Albert would've had time to marry and have children.  We could look it 
up in the genealogy to make certain."

Dr. Johns considered a moment.  "It could work...of course, it would be safer to just let him 
stay here and die naturally in the next few days..."

"But that is cruel, and I can't do it."

Dr. Johns touched her arm.  "I understand, my dear.  It is worth a try.  If Agent Mulder gets 
sick again, though..."

"I'll have to go after him, I know."

"And if he won't come back?  You may be risking your partner's life trying this.  Lord Mulder 
should be long dead.  It was his fate."

Scully frowned.  She didn't know what to do.

"Thank you, Dr. Johns," she said, and left.  Driving home, her thoughts were in a jumble.  She 
didn't want him to die; he wanted her to go back with him; she didn't want to risk Mulder's 
life.  What was she going to do?


When she arrived home, Mulder had already left.  She kicked her shoes off and went to the 
guest bedroom, knocking softly on the door.

"Come in," she heard him say, and she opened it a crack, peeking in.

The room was dark, and she could just make out his long figure lying in the bed. She came 
forward.

"Fox, Dr. Johns thinks that it is possible.  I think we should try it." 

She heard him sigh in the dark.  "Dana, I told you I won't without you."

She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling for his hand.  "You have to!  I don't want to watch you 
die."

He leaned forward.  "Then come with me!  Dana, we could have a wonderful life.  We'll 
marry...Albert can remain lord of Norcross.  We'll have children and live in peace.  Please...I 
promise you that no one could love you more."

Scully shook her head. "No.  You have to go alone."

There was silence for a moment. "What if it kills him?"

Scully swallowed.  "It won't."

"It might, Dana.  What then?  Will you come after me and kill me to save him?" 

"I don't know!" Scully jumped up, agitated.  "I don't know, don't you understand?  I just know 
I don't want either of you to die!"

"Come with me, Dana.  We'll be happy."

"I can't."

"Why not?"  Lord Mulder demanded.

"I love him." She said it on a sob.

"But he doesn't return that love...not like he should.  Dana, he is never going to tell you, as you 
want him to.  He is never going to make that step.  I can tell by looking at him...he doesn't 
have the balls."

Scully swallowed.  "That's not true..."

"Then go to him.  Give him every chance.  If he does as you think he will, then stay with him.  
I'll accept that.  I'll go home alone.  But if he doesn't, you must admit that it is not going to 
happen and think hard about coming with me."  His voice was pleading.

Scully wanted to object and say that it wasn't the time for them.  That Mulder wouldn't make 
his move now because it wasn't the right time.  But she knew that was wrong.  If anything, this 
was the very best time.  Their work on the X Files at a virtual stand still, his questions about 
his sister answered, a man here threatening to take her from him...when would be better?

She sniffed. "A-all right.  I'll do it.  I'll give him the chance."

"And if he doesn't take it?" Lord Mulder prompted softly.

"If he doesn't take it... I'll admit I was wrong and come with you."

Lord Mulder sat up, a smile in his voice.  "You won't regret this, Dana." He pulled her to him 
and his mouth covered hers in a warm and inviting kiss.  She found herself opening hers to draw 
him in.

When they pulled apart, he said, "Go now, Dana.  Before you lose your nerve.  Remember, give 
him every chance so that you'll be sure."

Scully stood up.  She was going to do it.
***

Mulder left Scully's apartment and headed home.  As he exited the beltway for Alexandria, he 
thought about Scully and Lord Mulder in the restaurant earlier.  The way they had looked at 
one another, the way she had been so open and caring with him.  Mulder couldn't get his mind 
off of the normal life she could have with him.  The one she so richly deserved.  He wanted 
that for her.  For a time, he had thought that perhaps he could be the one to give it to her, but 
whom was he kidding?  Nothing was ever going to be normal for him.

When he had seen Scully with Emily, it had torn at his heart.  If she could return with this man, 
she might be able to have children, and she would have a man who clearly loved her.  Mulder 
didn't care if it killed him; his life wouldn't be worth living anyway.

The ache in his heart caused him to stop at Theisman's, his favorite bar.  He ordered a shot of 
whiskey and sat nursing it for a long time, thinking about the mistakes he'd made in his life.  
Finally, he finished it, and ordered two more, tossing them back quickly.

When an attractive woman came up behind him and asked him to dance, he willingly complied.  
It felt good to have a female body pressed up against him, her hands running over his back.  
Liquor and a woman could take away the pain.  He wanted to lose himself in the physical 
tonight and forget.

**
Scully stood at the door of Mulder's apartment, rapidly losing her nerve.  She had driven 
around for 30 minutes talking herself into coming here.  Why was this so terrifying?  She 
clenched her hands.  Either he wanted her with him or he didn't.  She knocked loudly on the 
door and waited, her heart beating wildly in her chest.  When there was no answer, she 
knocked again.  She'd seen his car�she knew he was here.  Taking her key out, she unlocked 
the door.   

"Mulder?"  She called, walking into the darkened apartment.  His keys were on the table, along 
with a wad of cash and some receipts.  Walking further in, she saw that his bedroom door was 
closed.  He was asleep, then.  Scully hesitated.  She hated to wake him up, but she had come 
to a decision and she had to go through with it.  Slowly, she turned the knob and pushed the 
door open.  That's when she heard it---the low female moan of pleasure.  Scully froze.

No, it couldn't be.  He couldn't be...

She peered around the wooden door; her heart stopping when she saw them entwined on the 
bed.  She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.  Tears flooded her eyes as she turned and 
retraced her steps, leaving his door open as she moved quickly down the hall and stabbed at 
the elevator button.

She would never get the picture out of her mind.  The bed rumpled, the woman's long legs 
encircling him...

She squeezed her eyes shut and stumbled into the elevator as the doors slid open. 

She'd been a fool.  She'd given her life to him...followed him blindly for years.  Lost her sister, 
her health, and her ability to conceive.  She'd given up a life, friends, and any kind of normal 
existence to help him with his quest, all because she loved him.

She'd thought him too focused on the X Files to show her his love, yet he had no trouble taking 
a stranger to bed.  Scully shivered as her stomach tightened in misery.  She had thought she'd 
been hurt when he'd believed Diana Fowley over her two years ago...that was nothing 
compared to what she was feeling now.  

Hurt warring with anger, Scully made her way out of Mulder's apartment building, starting her 
car and skidding out of the parking space.  She drove much faster than she should have back to 
her apartment.

Once there, she opened the door with a shaking hand and slammed it shut.  She was still 
crying, and hated herself for it. Tossing her purse on the couch, she walked into the kitchen 
and took a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator.  Carefully, she poured some into a jelly glass 
and drank it.  Calming down, she studied the glass, amused to see it had Scooby Doo on it.  She 
remembered that it had come with grape jelly...not her favorite, but one she'd bought for her 
nephews.

Sighing, she poured another glass and drank it, closing her eyes as she remembered Mulder in 
the throes of passion with that woman.  She wanted to bang her head on the wall and dispel it 
once and for all.

"Damn!"  She said aloud.

She was suddenly aware that Lord Mulder was standing in the shadows watching her.

"Dana..." he said, concern in his voice.

"Leave me alone," she croaked, pouring more wine.

"I'm sorry.  We'll talk later."  He turned and went back to the guestroom.  

Sniffing, she poured more wine.  She knew she was being idiotic, drinking like this.  Hell, she 
was acting like Mulder!  She hadn't a doubt that he'd picked that woman up in some bar. It was 
just like him to be that self-destructive.

She put the glass down and took off her shoes, walking toward the bathroom to draw a bath.

The woman sat on Mulder's bed, sweat coating her body.

"What's wrong?" she asked, bewildered.

Mulder had jumped off the bed right in the middle of having sex with her and run out the door.  
He'd returned a moment later in this agitated state.

"Oh God..." he kept repeating, rummaging through their clothes on the floor and pulling his 
pants on.

"Don't get dressed...come back!  We were having such a good time.  What's the matter with 
you?  Oh God...you're not married, are you?"  

"Might as well be," Mulder said, buttoning his shirt. "Listen, I'm sorry about all this.  It 
shouldn't have happened."

The woman had gotten up and was dressing now.  "Damn right," she said, obviously annoyed.  
"I don't like being left high and dry like this."  She pulled her shoes on and grabbed her purse.  
"Looks like you should have known your girlfriend might come in."

Mulder just shook his head.  He couldn't believe this was happening.  Why had Scully come to 
see him?  He knew it was she.  She was the only one with a key.  The bedroom door had been 
left open, too.  She'd seen them.

Mulder barely noticed that the woman had gone as he gathered up his money on the table 
outside the front door and shoved it into his pocket.  Keys in hand, he left for Scully's.  He had 
to talk to her.
***

Scully let the water out of the tub, sitting in it until the last possible moment.  She felt empty.  
Everything in her life had come down to this.  All the years in medical school, disciplining 
herself to study and not to date like so many of her friends.  Scully let out a short, harsh, 
laugh.  She didn't even have any friends now.  

Only Mulder.

And she really didn't even have him...didn't know him like she wanted to.

She had alienated herself from her family after Melissa, thinking that the less they saw of her, 
the safer they were.

Stepping out of the bathtub, she grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around her body.  She 
looked into the mirror and wondered why she had denied herself for so long.  Her blue eyes 
still held tears in them.  Wiping them away resolutely, she left the bathroom and pushed open 
the guestroom door to gaze upon the man who, on the outside at least, was the man she loved.  
He looked up at her from the book he was flipping through.

He started to say something, but stopped as she came forward, dropping her towel on the 
floor.

Arms opening, he accepted her for everything she was and everything she wasn't.

After all, Scully thought, as her lips met his in an all-consuming kiss, wasn't that what she 
really wanted?

**

Mulder slammed his hand onto the steering wheel.  "Stupid, Mulder!  Stupid, stupid, Mulder!"  
The crashing of his palm onto the wheel punctuated his words.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid, 
Mulder!"  He was filled with self-loathing for what he had done. <How old am I, anyway?  
Seventeen?  To go and get drunk and pick up some woman...What is wrong with me?  Why did 
she have to see that?  Why haven't I just come clean with her about my feelings...she wouldn't 
be with someone else.>  

He gritted his teeth as he waited for a light to turn green, then with an oath, ran through the 
red.  He'd just flash his badge if he were stopped. What good was if being a FBI agent, anyway, 
if you couldn't abuse it every once in awhile?


Traffic was uncommonly heavy for this hour.  "Figures," he muttered, biting his lower lip and 
maneuvering in and out of the thread of cars making their way into the city. <I've got to get 
there...got to get to her> he kept repeating in his mind.  He had a terrible fear twisting his gut 
that she had grabbed him and gone to Dr. Johns.  He wished he could remember the old man's 
number.  Picking up his cell phone, he dialed Scully and let it ring. Her machine picked up.  He 
turned his phone off and pressed the accelerator.  He hoped she was just ignoring his calls.

After an interminable time, he finally reached the boundaries of Georgetown and found himself 
a block from Scully's apartment.  Circling it once, he found a space and slid into it, practically 
out the door before he'd gotten it in park.

He took the steps two at a time and practically ran down the hall, knocking frantically when he 
reached her apartment.  An old lady stuck her head out of the door across the hall and rolled 
her eyes when she saw him.  "You again," she muttered.  "Why don't you two just move in 
together and make it easier on all of us?"  She slammed the door.

Mulder pounded again, and then took his keys back out of his pocket and flipped around for the 
one with the red tag.  Red, for Scully's hair.  He loved her hair.  He'd never told her that, but 
he never told her anything, did he?  He never used his key, but he knew she was angry and not 
going to answer the door.  "Scully!" he called as he unlocked it.  

The apartment was lit.  Mulder walked in and saw her purse on the floor.  He let out a sigh.  
She hadn't left.  A wine bottle and a small glass were on the kitchen table.  His eyes traveled 
the room and saw that her bedroom door was open.  

"Scully?" he called, peeking into the room.  It was dark, and when his eyes adjusted, he could 
see that the bed was made and empty.  He walked down the hall.  The guest room door was 
closed.  He guessed that meant that his dear uncle was asleep.  He paused in front of the 
bathroom, which was lit.  The shower curtain was thrown open, Scully's clothes were on the 
commode, and the tub was wet.  He turned back around and looked at the closed guest room 
door.  Oh God.

He'd run out of rooms.  There wasn't anywhere else she could be...

He moved towards the door as if pulled by a magnetic force.  He pressed his cheek against the 
cold wood and listened.

Mumbling.  He could hear mumbling...were they talking?  Yes, that was it.  Scully was having a 
conversation with him in his bedroom with the door closed.  Mulder's hand actually shook as he 
reached for the knob. <Don't do it> he thought, an attempt to protect himself.

Turning it, he gently and soundlessly eased it open enough for him to look into the room.  The 
bed was on the far wall directly in front of him, and his heart stopped beating in his chest as he 
beheld them.

Time seemed to stop completely.  It was almost as if he were watching himself with Scully.  
Mouths together as soft sucking noises drifted across the room, bodies together in a way he'd 
only imagined.  Scully didn't have any clothes on, and she was so beautiful.  He'd never seen 
her this way.  She was passionate and pliant at the same time.

But it wasn't he who was doing those things to her, causing her to emit those sighs of pleasure.  
He wanted to kill the bastard with his bare hands!  Yet, he couldn't stop watching the look on 
her face.  The love as her climax approached.

Mulder backed away and out the door, almost falling.  <She loves him> he thought as he turned 
to leave her apartment.  <And I won't stop her from attaining her happiness> A vice gripped his 
heart.  He'd never felt such pain in his life, but he knew he deserved it.  He loved her but 
couldn't prove it to her like he should.  He'd ruined her life and now didn't seem to be able to 
give her what she deserved.  He'd used her all these years without letting her know what she 
meant to him. His hand gripped the door and he paused, looking back into the apartment.

"Goodbye, Scully," he whispered into the empty air, then stepped out into the hall. <For the 
last time>


And then he heard it.

Scully had reached the pinnacle of their lovemaking and she called out.  He shivered, his back 
rigid, at the passion and love in her voice.  And then he realized something.

"Mulder!"  She'd called out.  She'd called out to him.

<But his name is Mulder, too, you idiot! > His inner voice chided him.

But he knew she didn't call him that.  She called him Fox.

He took a tentative step back toward the bedroom.

<Don't be a jerk!  She is with him, she knows it's him, and that's his name! >

<It's my name! > He told himself.  <That's what she calls me!  I can tell by the way she said 
it...All right, screamed it.  She is in there with him...but she's thinking of me. >

He walked purposely back to the guestroom and pushed the door open, this time making no 
pretense of stealth.

Lord Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt clenched in his hand.  Scully lay back on the 
pillows...tears streaming down her face.

His uncle grabbed up his clothes and left the room. So he'd realized it, too.  Mulder walked 
slowly to the bed and sat down on it.

She held the sheet to her and stared at him, only seeming vaguely surprised that he was there.
He reached over and crushed a tear gently with the pad of his finger.

"Oh Scully, I'm so sorry."  He said hoarsely.

"It's you, Mulder," she whispered.  He leaned forward.

"What, Scully? What do you mean?"

"It's always you.  I can't... be rid of you.  I don't want to be. I can be with someone else, 
whether he looks like you or not, but it's always you in my mind.  It will always be you, Mulder. 
It always has been you."

Tears formed in Mulder's eyes and he took her hand and kissed it; a gesture not unlike his 
British counterpart, but world's different in Scully's mind.  Her lips trembled and he pulled her 
to him, his mouth in her hair.

"I love you, Scully.  I love you.  I should have told you a long time ago.  I guess...I thought you 
knew.  I was afraid I'd ruin what we have...I'm sorry."

Scully held him to her tightly, her body trembling.  

"Mulder I've been afraid, too.  But it's time for us to move on."  She pulled away from him and 
looked into his face, the tears glistening in her eyes, making them look like two deep pools of 
water. He leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly and she moved hers under his, touching his 
lips with her tongue.  He opened his mouth and claimed hers fully, pulling her body closer to 
him until the sheet dropped out of her hands and onto the floor.

After a long kiss, Scully suddenly felt embarrassed to be sitting with him on the bed she'd just 
shared with another man.  She wanted to shower and feel clean and fresh. She got up and went 
into the bathroom, turning on the spray and stepping in. Mulder stepped in behind her as she 
rinsed off, his hands playing over her body.  She turned and they joined with a passion that left 
them breathless for quite some time afterward.  

As they lay in her bed , Scully rested her head on his chest and played with the dark hairs 
growing there.  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"I've been such a fool, Scully," he said.

"I know," she replied, and giggled. He loved that sound.

Suddenly, she sat straight up.  She had completely forgotten about him!

***

"Where could he be?"  She asked Mulder, slipping into her shoes.  He pulled his shirt on over his 
head and shrugged.  

"A walk, maybe?  We... kind of forgot he was here.  Maybe he just wanted to give us some 
privacy."

Scully frowned.  "I hurt him, Mulder.  What if he's run off somewhere?"

"Where?  There's only one person in town he knows, and I doubt he could make it there..."

"He might have hailed a cab..." Scully was cut off as her phone rang shrilly.  She picked it up.

"Hello?  Yes.  We�what?  What do you mean?"

Mulder was beside her, his face pressed close to where she held the phone by her ear.

"Did he say anything?  Okay, thank you."  She hung up slowly and turned to Mulder.

"He went back.  He asked Dr. Johns to set the date ahead ten years and he went back.  He 
couldn't stop him."

Mulder stared at her a long moment.  "At least he didn't die, Scully. And I'm okay..." he held 
out his hands.  

Scully looked away a moment and he stepped toward her.  "Scully, are you sorry about your 
choice?  And are you sorry he's gone?"

Scully swung her head back and looked at him vehemently.  "No!  Mulder, no." She put her 
hands on his face, stroking it lovingly.  She stood on her toes and kissed him softly.  "I love you 
and only you.  Forever and without a doubt."  She looked into his eyes and he smiled.  "I'm 
only sorry that I hurt him, that's all."

She looked at the mantel...Mulder, we have somewhere we need to go as soon as morning 
comes."
****

Five hours later, Mulder and Scully sat side by side at the public library, bringing the Mulder 
family genealogy up on the computer there.

Mulder carefully scrolled down the pages that he had looked at only a few weeks before.

"Here it is..." he said, and Scully leaned in to look.

Mulder caught his breath. "Look, Scully, look!"

She did, and gasped.  Rather than the date of his death, that year held a note that Lord Fox 
Mulder mysteriously disappeared, only to return ten years later.  His brother Albert had indeed 
married Lady Kate Winthrop and they'd had had their five children.

"What happened to him, Mulder?"  Scully said urgently as Mulder kept scrolling.

"It says here that he married Ashley Winthrop."

"Kate's sister!"  Scully exclaimed.  Mulder looked at her.  

"How do you feel about that, Scully?" he asked, studying her face intently.  She looked at him, 
only inches away, her breath falling softly on his face.

"I'm glad," she said, leaning in to kiss him gently.  "She was so much nicer than her sister, and 
he needed someone.  But Mulder...did they have any children?"

Mulder was looking at the screen again.  "Just one. And that child had no children herself, so 
his lineage ended there."

"Oh..."  Scully breathed.  She hoped he had been happy.  "A little girl?"

"Yes, and look, Scully."

Scully leaned closer and peered at the screen where he pointed.  

"Her name."  He said softly.

Scully looked at it and her eyes filled with tears.  "Dana."

She smiled at Mulder and he smiled back, closing the web page and standing up.  He held out 
his hand.  "Let's go get some lunch, Scully. What sounds good to you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe some tea and scones?  Some cold mutton?"

Mulder laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked out of the library 
together and into the sunshine.



THE END