"Snapshot 23 - Sessions" Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any other tangentially mentioned characters were created by Chris Carter, and remain the copyrighted property of him, TenThirteen Productions, and Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. All characters are used without permission, and no infringement is intended. Archivists : Sure. Just make sure to keep my email address and this entire text as is without changes. Feedback : Please. Positive, negative, what have you. Address is drambo@sonic.net Classification : MSR, X, A Rating : R (Adult situations, gory violence) WARNING: There is a section in this story (marked off with <<>> brackets,) that contains a rather gruesome death scene. No main character (to the show,) dies. Geographical Note : There is no Court County in Montana, to the best of my knowledge, nor is there a town called Pave Creek. Readers that hail from Big Sky Country, I have created the entire town, it's population and customs out of whole cloth for the needs of this story. I have put Pave Creek in a place where there is no city, or if there is one there, it doesn't show up on my Rand McNally map. :) Enjoy! Please read the end notes as well. Thanks! :) ----------------------------------------- "That is the consolation of a little mind; you have the fun of changing it without impeding the progress of mankind." -- Frank Moore Colby "The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present." -- Epicurus 22 Mon Bar Road Pave Creek, Montana 1630 Hours Mulder was sitting in front of the computer, struggling to access the MUFON web site. Although the US Marshals Service had been more than generous in equipping and furnishing the safe house, they had neglected to configure the computer. Their idea of installation was to plug it in and walk away. And since Mulder didn't know anything about TCP/IP, he was having a hard time figuring out why the web browser kept reporting connection errors. Scully was sitting on the couch about twelve feet away, working on her embroidery. She was working from a pattern, a small pillowcase that was going to say something cute and trite when it was finished. Scully didn't really care about it that much, but it was wonderful exercise for her fingers, and helped her keep the dexterity she needed as a pathologist. Another one of the benefits to her pastime was the fact that it gave her mind time to wander. She could release herself from all the clutter and confusion of her usual daily workload, and let her imagination take hold, let it take her on a footloose, fancy-free trip of fantasy. At this particular moment in time, Scully was deeply inside a fantasy regarding her partner. She watched as Mulder finally gave in and reached for one of the manuals located on a shelf above the computer. He tore into it, absorbing information a rate that both amazed Scully, and made her feel a little envious. God, she thought, if I'd had that mind in medical school, I would have breezed through. She watched the way his eyes traveled the pages, seeking out the little bits of information he needed to make the damn browser work, the way he bit his lip as he concentrated, the way he smiled at some private joke that would take days to explain to her. His mind jumped and whirled and cooked and popped like nothing Scully had ever seen, save for the inner core of an exploding star. Nothing was that hot...except Mulder. If she tried hard enough, Scully could concentrate and almost feel the small fetus inside of her. She was pregnant, of that she had no doubt. All that remained was the time to pass before any take-home test could reliably assumed to prove accurate. When she peed on the little stick and watched the (+) sign appear, they would be able to enjoy the news for real. They would be able to celebrate the new life they had created between them, the new life, the new person they would bring into the world, together. And that was the fantasy that Special Agent Dana Scully was smack in the middle of as she studied Mulder struggling with the computer. The assignment they were on was dangerous, and not just for the reasons that both she and Mulder suspected. Something was, indeed, going on with Zack Tarses. Mulder had shared the results of his conversation with Deputy Stone, and Scully knew that something that only Mulder could get her into was about to happen. The fact that she was pregnant should have filled her with worry and caution; but it didn't. Because Scully knew that no matter what happened, even if it meant losing any chance of ever finding out what happened to his sister, even if it meant never discovering what, if anything, Zack Tarses had determined about life beyond the solar system, Mulder would never, ever let anything happen to her or their child. His armor might be slightly tarnished in spots, but Mulder was a knight. He fought the fight for the powerless, stood up on his horse and went tilting at governmental conspiracies, and did what he felt had to be done for the good of the country, for the good of his conscience, and ultimately, for the good of Scully and the LittleScullyMulder that was growing inside her womb at this very minute. Scully felt such a warm rush for the man sitting not ten yards away from her that she dropped the embroidery she was working on and stood, walking over to where he sat. He was so deeply engrossed in the book he didn't sense her presence for a good thirty seconds. "Scully?" he asked. Reaching down, Scully closed the book and took Mulder's hand. She looked at him, the raw, naked need and hunger plainly evident on her face. She lifted her eyebrows towards the ceiling, and tilted her head to the side in a 'come with me gesture,' that was totally unmistakable. Mulder knew when to keep silent. He stood and followed her up the stairs. *** After, they lay on the bed naked, warm, soft limbs gently entwined. "I admire our ability to get paid for this," Mulder said. Scully didn't answer him. Instead, she took his hand and placed against the gentle, almost unnoticeable swell of her stomach, and then moved it slightly lower. "Here?" he asked. Scully nodded, not saying a word. Mulder looked at where she had placed his hand, and she could see the whirl of emotions crossing his face. Lowering his head to her stomach, Mulder turned and gently placed his ear against her stomach. He closed his eyes, his face turned away from her, and tried to imagine the sound of a tiny little heartbeat. "Samantha if it's a girl...William if it's a boy?" "Samantha Melissa, for a girl, and William Fox if it's a boy," Scully corrected softly, her nails lightly scratching Mulder's scalp. The phone rang. Scully reached for it. "Hello?" "Mrs. Edwards?" the voice, a distinctly deep male baritone, asked. "Dr. Edwards," she automatically corrected. "I'm sorry -- that's right. This is Jake Tarses. I'm Zack's father. I understand you and your husband met my son today." "Yes. Yes, we did, Mr. Tarses," Scully said. She felt Mulder shifting, and she held him down with her hand. Mulder settled down. "Well, the thing of it is...I don't know what kind of impression my son made on you, but...I understand you're a child psychologist..." "That's correct," Scully said. Fraud, she thought. "Well, my son has been having some problems lately. He thinks...well, it's better if he tells you, I suppose. I know you just got into town, but he is worrying the dickens out of his mother and I, and I was just wondering..." Scully pretended to think about it. "How's the day after tomorrow? Nine? Is that OK?" She could hear Jake Tarses' sigh of relief. "That'd be perfect, Mrs....er, Dr. Edwards." "I'll expect him then. Just have Zack let himself in the front door. My office is immediately to the right." "Thank you again, Dr. Edwards." "You're welcome, Mr. Tarses." She hung up the phone, and reached for Mulder, using her hands to urge him up her body, until they were laying face to face. His warm, muscular weight felt wonderful pressing her into the mattress. She let her arms lie against his back, her nails just scratching the top of his buttocks. "That," she said, although she knew she didn't need to, "was Zack's father." "I guess he's coming in for some shrinking of the head?" Mulder kidded. "Yeah," Scully said, feeling the frown reaching her face. "This is almost too easy, Mulder." "Well...we'll just take it as it comes," he said. Scully shifted under him, seeking a slightly more comfortable position. The soft, dry friction of her silken skin against Mulder's body had an immediate and apparent effect. "Oh, my...again?" she asked. Mulder looked embarrassed. "Not if you don't-" She silenced him with a kiss, sighing as she felt him moving against her, sighing deeper as she opened herself to him, and then finally groaning into his mouth with a hungry, animal sound as she felt them join, together, as one. *** 590 West 57th Street New York City, New York 1732 Hours EST Starke reached behind him and opened the foam-lined case. A H&K MP5-PDW/X was sheathed in the foam-rubber. It had once been a standard-issue Marine Corps MP5-N before an expert armorer had gotten a hold of it. The ANP-6 night vision scope nestled next to the barrel was specially modified to work with this weapon; the 30 9mm rounds carried in the magazine were thousands of times more deadly than a normal Black Talon round, which they had been at one point in their lives. The barrel was custom built, designed to make the rifle hyperaccurate to two hundred yards. It was not a sniper's rifle; it would not shoot accurately to the distances that snipers were required to operate within. But it was an incredibly deadly, accurate weapon at ranges up to 200 yards. And with a flick of the fire selection switch, it turned into a very efficient room-sweeping rock-and-roll, fully-automatic death stick. Starke quickly assembled the weapon, snapping the pieces together like some demented Leggo toy from hell. The night vision scope powered up with an almost inaudible whine, and Starke stuck his arm through the sling and around again. Avi was across the street, and Starke's orders were clear. There was another team down on the street, a pair of operatives using the same photoelectric sensing gear that Starke himself had. They were to follow Scimitar to his destination. Starke would join them later, the MP5-PDW/X replaced by a much more accurate rifle with a thousand-yard plus range. When Scimitar arrived in Montana, Starke would be waiting. For him. And Mulder. And Scully. *** <<<>>> GORY VIOLENCE WARNING - This section contains scenes of a violent nature. Reader discretion is advised. <<<>>> 600 West 57th Street New York City, New York 1741 Hours EST Avi nodded to the man seated across the huge oak desk, and stood to leave. "You have done well," Scimitar said slowly, clearly, and Avi felt like the man was speaking from the grave itself. A career military officer, Avi had met his share of killers and assassins over the years, but none could hold a candle to the man seated six feet away from him. Scimitar's eyes were...dead. That was the simplest, most expedient way to explain it. Scimitar wasn't a man, wasn't a person, he was the Angel of Death personified. He was simply, Death Incarnate. "I am pleased that you are satisfied," he managed to whisper, eager to leave and put as much distance between himself and this... thing as he could. "You are dismissed, Avi. Never come back here." You don't have to worry about that, Avi thought. Instead, he said, "I won't. Have a...good mission." The man held up the small device. "With this, I will. Have a safe trip back, Avi." Avi let himself out of the man's study and quickly made his way to the door. Opening it, he took the steps quickly, eager to return to his hotel. He never heard the shot that felled him. The bullet, traveling at over fifteen hundred feet per second, entered the left side of his skull and traversed his cranium, exiting out the other side, near his jaw, along with a large portion of Avi's face. The hydrostatic force compressed his brain to the size of a large grapefruit, and a large section of it detached itself and exited through the wound, hitting the side of 580 West 57th with a large, wet, pink smack! The portions of his lower brain that were still functioning immediately tried to increase his blood pressure, and what had the added effect of causing the majority of Avi's blood to pump out of his body in six large spurts. Across the street, Starke smiled and lowered the weapon. It hadn't been that hard of a shot. Quickly casing the weapon, he shut the attache case and grabbed his special photoelectric sensor package and proceeded to make his way out of the building to his waiting car. Whistling to himself, Starke pointed the car at the airport and stroked the gas pedal. <<>> END VIOLENCE *** 22 Mon Bar Road Pave Creek, Montana 0858 Hours Two Days Later Zack "Ike" Tarses ascended the steps leading to the Edwards' house and let himself in as he had been instructed. He saw the office door off to the left, and opened it. Dana Scully, AKA "Dr. Karen Edwards," sat behind the huge, professional-looking desk. The USMS had gone to great length to furnish her office, and had used a great deal of classic, expensive furniture seized by the DEA from various drug dealers. Scully herself hoped to have an office just like this in her house one day. The house she would share with Mulder. "Come in, Zack," she said, and then saw the angry look cross the teenager's face. "I mean, Ike. Come in, please." Zack walked into her office and looked around. Probably looking for a couch, Dana thought with a smile. "Where's the couch?" he asked, confirming her suspicions. "Don't have one. We can use the one in the living room, if you want." He shook his head and selected one of the deep, comfortable leather chairs that flanked Dana's desk. They stared at each other in silence for two minutes. "So...?" Dana asked. "So what? My parents want me to be here. I don't want to be here." Dana nodded. "OK, that's fair. You can leave any time you want, Zack. If you leave right now, I won't even charge your parents a dime." Zack ignored the fact that Scully hadn't used his preferred nickname, and instead shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Naw," he said. "My dad was pretty adamant about me coming here, so I guess we should give him his money's worth." Dana nodded, accepting this. "Ok..your father said he was worried about you. Do you know why?" Zack nodded. "One question...please." "Sure, go ahead." "I'm aware of doctor-patient confidentiality. But does that extend to our relationship? I am a minor, and my parents are paying you. Are you obligated to reveal what goes on in this, or any of our sessions?" Dana considered for a moment. "Yes, and no, Zack...I mean, Ike." "You can call me Zack," he said. "Thank you, Zack. To be honest, if I feel you are a danger to yourself or others, I have a legal obligation to inform your parents or the authorities." Zack snorted. "Authorities. Please." Dana decided to let that one slip by. "So, as to the details...no. I can't legally reveal what we discuss in substance, or in general outlines, unless you give me permission." Zack nodded. "What about danger?" Dana shifted in her chair. "Excuse me? Danger from what?" Zack smiled. "Ah, there's the crux, isn't it? Doctor Edwards," "Karen," she corrected. "Karen, then...you see, I am in some danger. I know things that no one else in the world knows. I know about certain things that some people would like to keep quiet, and others would dearly like to exploit to their own advantages. By telling you any of this, I would be putting you in danger as well. Do you see my dilemma?" "Yes," Scully said after a minute. "I do. The choice is yours, Zack. Only you can make that decision." "Are you taping this session?" "No," Scully lied. The tape recorder was upstairs, hidden in a closet in her and Mulder's bedroom. "You don't mind if I check, do you?" Zack asked, pulling a small electronic device out of his pocket. *** Upstairs, Mulder hit the STOP button and breathed a sigh of relief. At least the kid had asked. He slowly counted to two hundred, and then pushed REC and PLAY again. *** Scully sat in her chair, fascinated. Zack had just started explaining what was on his mind. "So you see...if I tell you, you have to promise never, ever to tell another living soul. Not even your husband, Dr. Edwards. Karen. You can never, ever tell anyone. Do we have an agreement?" Dana offered her hand across the desk, and Zack took it, pumping it twice. Zack sat back down. "How long do we have?" "All morning, kiddo. My calendar's clean." Zack nodded. He opened his mouth and began to speak, and Dana felt her blood run cold at his words. Zack's smile was a thin, wry line across his face as he brought their carefully constructed facade to a crashing end. "You might want to ask your partner to join us," the sixteen year old boy said. "Excuse me?" "Agent Mulder. Fox William Mulder. He's upstairs listening to this conversation." Zack paused, letting his words sink in. "How? How did-?" Scully started to ask. "Mulder! Hey, Mulder! Get your ass on in here!" Zack called. Scully heard his footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later the door cracked open. Poking his head in, Mulder asked, "Zack...can we tape this?" "No." "Shit. All right...." Mulder joined Scully and Zack, shutting the door behind him. He took the other seat facing Scully's desk, and turned to Zack. "How did-?" "I'll get to that, Mulder. That is what you liked to be called, right?" Mulder nodded. "First things first. Mulder...your sister..." Scully suddenly wanted to be next to Mulder. "What about her?" Mulder demanded. "She was taken, Mulder. Taken by them." "Do you know where she is?" "Where? No, Mulder. But that's the wrong question to ask." "Don't make me play twenty questions, dammit!" Zack smiled his thin smile again, and shook his head. "I won't. Sit back, relax, put your feet up. This is gonna be a very long story, Mulder." ----------------------------------------- End Chapter 23 END NOTES: Since my end notes contain spoilers for "Mento Mori" or whatever the name is of the episode that aired Sunday, February 9, 1997 in the United States, PLEASE SKIP THE FOLLOWING SPOILER-CONTAINING PARAGRAPH if you have not already seen the episode, or if you mind having it spoiled. Thank you. s p o i l e r s p a c e y o u h a v e b e e n w a r n e d There will be those that argue that this story is out of date because of the revelations made regarding Scully's potential fertility problems in this past week's episode. Since I have more than uncommon faith in Mulder's ability to (via Skinner,) exact both the cure and an appropriately delicious revenge on CSM, I have no doubt that Mulder and Scully, <> romantically involved, would be able to conceive a child. Since "Snapshot" takes place in the 'near future,' some readers may be upset (as they have in the past,) that my stories don't adhere to "X-Files Canon," that being defined as only what we have seen on the air. I apologize for this annoyance, but since I had gotten Scully (supposedly) pregnant in an earlier chapter, I couldn't bring myself to make it a 'false alarm.'