Children of the Secret By Dawson E. Rambo Edited by R. Scott Carr Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner and any other tangentially mentioned characters created by Chris Carter remain his copyrighted property, the property of 1013 Productions, and the property of Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. No infringement of any copyright is intended. Characters created by the author remain his property. Archive Title : Children of the Secret Posting Date : 30 August, 1998 Classification : Mulder/Other MSR, SRA Overall STORY Rating : R (Adult themes, images) Archive : Gossamer OK. ALL others, please link to: www.sonic.net/~drambo/cots.txt But only if you think this is original, valid work. I'd hate to waste disk space on a server with "trash." Keywords : Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully, Angst Feedback : Encouraged & welcomed drambo@sonic.net Timeline : Fifth Season, before "The End." Spoilers : "Duane Barry/Ascension," "Small Potatoes" Although the keywords show "Mulder/Other" I want to say at this point in time that this is 100% shipper-friendly fiction. Dedication: To Annie, for offering a hand in the darkness so that I might start to find my way out. Please see the Author's Note at the end. +=+=+= Normal, Illinois My, God, Scully thought. She's so *little!* The girl that sat at the table behind the two-way mirror was, indeed, little. Barely older than seven, she glanced around the empty room nervously, completely unaware that she was being observed. "Tell me again," Scully said quietly. Standing next to her, Mulder read from the case file he'd been handed. "Youngest of four children, the oldest is twelve. All three of her siblings are in various mental institutions across the state. All of them experience rare periods of lucidity. Most of the time, they exist in a persistent vegetative state." "No trauma," Scully said again, as if to confirm what she already knew. "No discernable medical cause. Complete and utter idiopathic catatonia." Mulder nodded, closing the case file. "That about sums it up." "And she," Scully said, pointing at the young girl through the glass, "is starting to descend into the same state?" Mulder sighed, leaning closer to the mirror. "Yeah," he said softly, his eyes distant, unfocused. "Six months ago, she went into what her first-grade teacher described as a "trance" for almost two hours. That was the first occurrence of any note, according to the parents. Then, three months ago, another one, this time at a ballet recital. Almost four hours. And yesterday, for six hours." Scully crossed her arms, frowning. "Ok, lay it on me." Mulder glanced at her. "What?" "Your theory. You wouldn't have dragged me all the way to Illinois unless you had a theory." He shrugged. "Actually, I don't have one. We were called in through violent crimes." Scully's frowned deepened. "Oh?" "Well, ISU. The local police department doesn't have a staff psychologist, and the guy they imported from Chicago deals mostly with officer stress, shootings, domestics...things like that. He's not equipped for this." And I am? Scully thought. "And...?" she prompted. "CPD made a request to ISU for a psychological evaluation. The ISU guys are all busy chasing various serial monsters, and Skinner was asked if he had anyone free." Mulder shrugged. "We were free." Scully nodded, getting it. "Ok, so why am *I* here?" "You're my partner," Mulder pointed out. Who recently lost a daughter who wasn't that much younger than her, Mulder thought, and winced. He was opening his mouth to apologize when the door to the observation room slid open, revealing a tall, smartly dressed woman. "Hello," she said breezily, extending her arm towards Mulder. "I'm Annie Gitter, with Illinois Social Services." Mulder shook the offered hand. "Special Agent Mulder, FBI," he said. Turning to Scully, he added, "And this is my partner, Special Agent Scully." Scully and Gitter shook hands. Mulder turned the woman's name over in his mind and tried to hide the smile. "Ah," Annie said, noticing the expression on Mulder's face. "I see you've already arrived at one of the puns surrounding my name." Stroking her chin, Gitter smiled. "Let me guess. "Annie Gitter Gun?"" "That was the one," Mulder acknowledged. He snorted. "Just so you know, I can sympathize. My first name is Fox." Scully felt both eyebrows crawling higher on her forehead. Gitter was grinning. "I can almost hear the taunts of the other children on the playground," she said. "But, we're not here for an exchange of funny names." Turning to face the window, she pointed her chin at Kimberly. "So? Any ideas?" "A few," Mulder allowed. "Such as?" "I assume that the police and Social Services have...investigated the family?" Annie nodded. "Yes. And found nothing. Father is an accountant, CPA, makes well over six figures, almost halfway to seven. Mother is a paralegal, makes a nice salary. The home is clean, well-kept. No evidence of physical abuse, sexual abuse, anything. Neighbors speak very highly of the parents. No problems at work, no serious outstanding debt that we can find, aside from the mortgage and the car payments. They live within their means and, as far as we can tell, except for the fact that all four children have slowly descended into madness, nothing else is wrong." Scully chewed her lip. "I know this sounds cold, but has anyone considered removing Kimberly from the family? Just to make sure that it's not her environment?" "No," Annie said quietly. "I approached a Family Court judge about a preemptive injunction to do just that, but..." She trailed off, obviously not comfortable with the topic. "But?" Mulder gently prodded. "But, several very highly publicized screwups by my department in the last five years has made the courts a little gun shy. Unless I have compelling evidence of abuse or neglect...blah, blah, blah." Mulder nodded. He knew the drill. "Family counseling?" he asked, making quote marks with his fingers in the air. "Yes. We asked them to go see a specific doctor who has cooperated with us in the past. His office is..." She glanced around, indicating the two-way mirror and the observation room, "...similarly equipped. We videotaped both parents with Kimberly, together and apart, for almost six hours. We've gone over the tapes again and again, and we haven't found anything." Mulder turned back to look at Kimberly through the glass. "Well, something is wrong," he said. "Obviously." "Which is why you're here, although I must admit I'm not sure why the FBI is involved. This is hardly a federal case." Mulder pointed at Scully. "My partner is a physician, and highly trained at detecting things that might normally go unnoticed," he said. "I'm a psychologist, and I specialize in..." He glanced at Scully, searching for words that wouldn't put Annie Gitter off. "Odd things," Scully provided. "The bizarre. Things you don't normally see." "Well, then, it appears as though our tax dollars are well spent, Agent Mulder." Annie Gitter glanced one last time through the glass. "This is an odd case." +=+=+= The Next Afternoon Abraham Lincoln Motor Court "There," Mulder said, hitting the PAUSE button. "See it?" "No, Mulder," Scully said, "I don't." "Watch," he said, rewinding the tape. Hitting PLAY, he let the scene unfold. Kimberly and her parents were in the doctor's office. For all intents and purposes, they had been left alone. Alone, except for the all-seeing eye of the hidden video camera. "Watch," Mulder said. "Kimberly is playing with the doll." Mulder punched the slow-motion button, and the images began to crawl and flicker. On the tape, Kimberly was playing with an "actualizing doll" that the doctor had "carelessly" left in the room. Kimberly's parents were sitting about six feet away on a couch, talking quietly. Kim was holding the doll by the head, making her dance back and forth on top of a coffee table. Her left hand reached for the doll's skirt as if she were going to lift it... And then it happened. Kimberly's mother laughed at something her father said. Kim looked up, and almost behind her. On the couch, Kim's father turned to his daughter. "Hey, Kimmy, I'm going to get something to drink," he said, smiling. "Do you want anything?" he asked his daughter. "No," Kim said, and immediately dropped the doll. Mulder hit STOP. "Did you see it?" he asked. "What?" Scully replied, exasperated. "I didn't see anything unusual, Mulder." "Watch it again," he said, rewinding. Scully did. Twice more. And then she saw it. "He touches his eye," she said. "As if he had something in it." "Good," Mulder said. "Just as he says her name, he touches his left eyelid, right?" "So?" Mulder glanced down at a legal pad he'd been using. Various counter numbers were written down. He fast- forwarded to another one. "Watch again." He hit PLAY. Kim and the doctor alone this time, an interview. "Has anyone ever touched you?" the doctor asked. "Of course, silly," Kim said, smiling the way little girls do when a big dumb adult asked an even dumber question. "Kim, do you know the difference between a good touch and a bad touch?" the doctor asked. "Uh-huh," Kim said. "A bad touch is a stranger touching you in a private place." On the tape, the doctor nodded. "Has anyone ever touched you in a bad way?" he asked. Kimberly had been fidgeting a moment before, moving her arms and her hands around her head and neck. As soon as the words were out of the doctor's mouth, Kim ran her left forefinger across her left eyelid. "No," she said. Mulder hit STOP. "Did you see that?" Scully rolled her eyes. "Mulder, that's...nuts." "Wait," he said. "There's more." He fast-forwarded again. "An hour later. Kim, alone again with the doctor," he said, pushing PLAY. "Do you parents tell you do to stuff you don't like?" the doctor asked. "Like what?" "Clean you room, eat your vegetables, stuff like that?" the doctor asked. Kim nodded. "Uh-huh, sure," Kim said. "Anything else?" the doctor asked again, lightly. "Like what?" "Anything. Like...asking you to touch them-" The words weren't even fully formed before Kim moved. Again, her left hand came up and a finger rubbed her left eye. "N-no," she said. Mulder hit STOP. "Mulder, that's stretching it mighty thin," Scully said. She hesitated. "But I agree...there's something there." +=+=+= The Next Morning It took less than half an hour. Mulder went into the interrogation room with Kimberly and began interviewing her. He asked her her name. She answered. He asked her how old she was, and just as he finished asking the question, Mulder rubbed his left eye. "Nine," Kimberly said. "I thought you were seven?" Mulder asked. "Right, seven." Mulder asked sixty questions in all. Ten were control questions. On all ten of the control questions, Mulder touched his left eye after asking the question, and on all ten questions, Kimberly lied. In the observation room, Annie Gitter and Scully watched. "Amazing," Gitter whispered. "How on Earth did he...?" Scully shrugged. "That's what he does best." "God, and then some!" Gitter said, obviously awed. Mulder finished the interview and politely excused himself. A moment later the door to the observation room opened and he entered. "Did we get all that?" "Both cameras," Annie said. "Enough to get the judge off his ass." Mulder nodded, smiling at Annie. "Glad I could help," he said. "If you don't mind my asking...whatever made you think... how did you figure it out?" Mulder's features instantly darkened. His eyes slid away from her, towards the ground, remembering. Oh, shit, Scully thought. Oddly enough, Annie Gitter had the same thought, but not for the same reason. He's remembering, they thought. "It's just...a certain way of thinking, I guess," Mulder said, jamming his hands into his pockets. Surprising Mulder and Scully both, Annie asked, "What was your signal?" Mulder's head snapped up. "After dinner," Mulder said dreamily, "he'd always light a cigarette. If he...if he bit the filter, I'd know that he'd be coming to see me that night." Scully felt her blood run cold. Annie reached out a hand and placed it on Mulder's arm. "I'm sorry," she said. Mulder smiled faintly, but both Gitter and Scully knew he wasn't smiling at either of them. "I was lucky, in a way. It wasn't sexual. Never sexual." Gitter said nothing, waiting, letting Mulder choose whether or not to share any more with her. "He...hit. He drank and he hit," he said softly. Annie's fingers applied gentle pressure. She said nothing, waiting for Mulder's gaze to find her own. Annie knew her expression would say the words for her. Mulder's eyes refocused, finding hers. "Really?" he asked. "Yes. I'm one of the Children of the Secret." she said. +=+=+= Abraham Lincoln Motor Court That Night Mulder had been noticeably quiet for the rest of the day. At Annie Gitter's request, he had completed a lengthy affidavit for use with the Family Court. It had taken him most of the afternoon to complete, and Mulder had decided to spend the night in Illinois and return to DC in the morning. Scully had elected to stay with him, for reasons she wasn't quite sure she would be able to articulate if asked. Now, back at the motel for the night, Mulder was in his room channel surfing. Judging by the rapidity with which he was changing channels, Scully knew he still had a lot on his mind. Pushing through the connecting door, she found him where she expected: On the bed, one arm propped behind his head, staring at the TV and seeing nothing, his thoughts far away. Scully sat down on the only chair in the room. "Penny for your thoughts," she said quietly. "Huh?" "You look a thousand miles away, Mulder." "Just thinking," he said. Scully let that one sit for a moment, and then asked the question that had been on her mind all day. "What did she mean, the Children of the Secret?" Mulder hit the MUTE button and dropped the remote onto the bed. "It refers to abused children, Scully. But you knew that." She nodded. "I did. I mean, I got that from the situation. But I've never heard the term before, and you seemed to recognize it instantly." Mulder nodded in return. "Andrew Vachss coined the term. He's an attorney-" "I know who he is." "Have you ever read any of his books?" Mulder asked. "No," Scully said, shaking her head. "Read a few," Mulder said, "and then ask me again." +=+=+= Three Days Later Washington, DC Scully was elbows-deep in one of the filing cabinets when the phone rang. Mulder snagged the receiver and propped it between his shoulder and left ear as he continued to work. "Mulder," he answered tersely. "Yes? Oh...hi!" he said, sounding pleased. Curious, Scully turned to face her partner. "How did it go?" Mulder asked, unaware that Scully was studying him. "Really? It only took six hours?" He snorted. "As cold as they were, I figured it'd take at least a day or two." Another short pause. "Yeah, maybe we should take on the JonBonet case!" Scully instantly made the connection. Annie Gitter had called back to update Mulder on the Normal case. Satisfied, Scully turned back to the filing cabinet and resumed her search. The damn thing had to be in here *somewhere,* she thought. Scully spotted the elusive file and withdrew it. Returning to her desk, she caught the last part of Mulder's comment to Annie. "...not sure. I'll have to check. I'll get back to you." He listened, his work momentarily forgotten. "Uh- huh...right. Any time, huh? Well, I'll be sure to let you know, Annie. Thanks for calling." Mulder hung up and refocused his attention on the papers in front of him. "How is Annie?" Scully asked. "Fine," Mulder said distractedly, turning a page. "They got the parents to confess in six hours. Not too shabby, if I do say so." Scully nodded, returning to her own work. +=+=+= The Next Afternoon Mulder was on the phone when Scully returned from lunch. "I know! I know!" Mulder was saying, obviously excited, a smile plastered on his face. "I can't believe it, either." Spotting Scully he grinned. "Listen, my partner is back from lunch, so I should be going." He paused, listening. "Sure, tonight. Take care." Mulder hung up. "How as lunch?" "Fine," Scully said circumspectly. "That was Annie again, I take it?" Mulder frowned. "How'd you know?" Scully chewed her lip for a moment, considering her answer. "No one else has made you that...animated in a while, Mulder." "Oh." "So, any new developments? Anything I need to update the case file with?" Mulder's eyes slid off of Scully's and onto his desk. "Uh...no. That was a mostly...er, personal call." Personal? Scully thought. Scully retook her seat and booted her laptop. A mental image of Mulder and Annie Gitter on a date in a restaurant having dinner flitted across her mind. Annoyed, wondering where the image had come from, Scully ignored it and tried to concentrate on her work. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out. +=+=+= Scully's Apartment That Evening OK, think, Scully commanded herself. Figure this out. Why does the idea of Annie Gitter and Mulder having a personal relationship bother you so much? Scully circled her apartment, walking from the kitchen to the living room to the bedroom and back again. She touched things as she walked: The wall, books on the shelves, the comforter on her bed, the back of the couch, the kitchen table. She felt none of it, and saw none of the things she was staring at. It's *not* jealousy, she told herself. At least not the *kind* of jealousy that would fuel Mulder's inane banter for months on end, if he knew. Which he won't. Ever. Professional jealousy? Scully thought. Mulder and I have been partners for close to seven years. It's entirely possible that I'm jealous of the fact that he seemed to connect with her in an instant, whereas it took us almost six, seven months to find that comfort level. That must be it, Scully decided. So, why, her mind asked immediately, was the first image that came to your mind, the most disturbing image, was of Annie and Mulder having dinner, obviously on some kind of imagined date? Stop it, she thought. Stop it right now. Annie Gitter lived half a continent away, had a full- time job that she obviously was very good at. Why is *that* important? Scully wondered. Because, her mind answered rather smugly, it means that Miss Gitter won't be picking up and moving to Washington, DC to be with Mulder. Be with Mulder? Yes, her mind replied, be with. Scully flopped down on the couch and drew her knees up to her chin, thinking. We're both fully functioning adults in our thirties. We're partners. Friends. Best friends, if it has to be labeled. Am I in love with my partner? Scully wondered. Am I actually...jealous? Rubbish, Scully thought. Except...there it was. Every time she thought of Annie Gitter and Mulder together... Ok, a little experiment, Scully mused, closing her eyes. Think of Annie and Mulder together...really, truly together. The image that came to Scully's mind made her gasp out loud. Mulder, naked, on top of a similarly nude Annie Gitter, making love. Sitting upright, her eyes snapping open, Scully silently vowed never to do *that* again. She slowly sat back, biting her lip, her gaze unfocused. This is not good, she thought. +=+=+= Mulder's Apartment Mulder was working on the computer when the phone rang. He reached for it, expecting it to be Scully, but something stayed his hand before he could lift the receiver. It might not be Scully, he thought. It might be Annie. And that thought made him smile. "Hello?" he asked. "Mulder, hi. It's me." +=+=+= Scully's Apartment Scully hung up the phone and returned to chewing her lip. He was talking to her. To Annie. In the six years they had been partners, Mulder's home phone had *never* been busy. Maybe he's talking to his mother, she thought. Or the Gunmen. No. In her heart, Scully knew the truth. Annie Gitter and Mulder were... Connecting. +=+=+= Mulder's Apartment "How was your week?" Annie asked. "Pretty good, actually. For the first time in a while." "Tell me about it?" "Asking as a social worker?" There was a pause before Annie answered, "Noooo..." For some reason, this tacit admission of her interest made Mulder smile. "Dreams are still there, like always, but they're not as...oppressive as they usually are. Didn't scare me as much." "Familiar, but not threatening?" Annie clarified. "Right." "Yeah," she said, sighing. "I know what you mean." She paused, and then decided to let Mulder know that she *did* understand what he was talking about. "When I was a kid, my father...when he got bad, he would get all the kids in the car and start driving." She paused, realizing that didn't sound very horrible. "See, he'd...he'd make it like he was going to drive off a cliff. He'd scream at us that the world was a horrible place, that we were horrible children, that we made him do these...things because of the way we were. And he'd threaten to kill us all, drive us off the cliff into oblivion." "That's...horrible!" Mulder said softly. "I know. And I still dream about it, Mulder. I dream that we're in the car...only my father isn't driving." Mulder waited for it, and when it didn't come, he asked softly, "Who's driving in the dream, Annie?" "I am," she said, and sobbed. Mulder let her cry it out, listening to the sobs on the other end of the phone a thousand miles away. After a few minutes, Annie composed herself. "Sorry," she whispered. "Don't say that, Annie," Mulder pleaded. "We need this. We *both* need this." "Why is it so easy for us to talk about this to each other? I've never told anyone that dream. Not even my therapist." Mulder smiled at the phone. "Because a therapist can never understand, Annie. He says he can, he might even think he can, that he's not just saying it, that he's not just sympathizing with us. But he'd be wrong." Mulder paused, feeling the emotion, thick in his throat, behind his eyes, deep in his chest, below the sternum, a grasping, dark, wet pressure that he had always thought he alone knew. "They can never know, Annie. Only we can." +=+=+= The Next Day FBI Headquarters Mulder almost floated into the office. He and Annie had spent almost four hours on the phone last night talking, laughing, crying and just connecting. It was invigorating. Magical. He'd never felt this sense of connection with anyone. Ever. Pushing open the door to the X-Files office, Mulder found Scully already at her desk, bent over a file, taking notes as she worked. "Morning, Scully," he said brightly, turning to hang his coat up. "Hello, Mulder," Scully said. Something in her tone made Mulder turn and face her. There were circles under her eyes, and the eyes themselves had a certain...redness. Had she been crying? "Scully, you OK?" "I'm fine, Mulder." Well, of course you are, Mulder thought. I don't know what I expect you to say, anyway. That's all you ever say. I'm. Fine. Pursing his lips in frustration, Mulder went to his desk and sat down. An odd thought occurred to him. What would it be like if Scully opened up to me the way Annie has? Mulder felt his eyebrows rise as the implications washed over him. He tried to imagine having a conversation with Scully like the one he'd had the night before with Annie. He tried, tried hard, to imagine Scully telling him the things that Annie had, using that same hushed, confidential tone of voice. Tried to imagine that sense of wonder and connection. And failed miserably. Scully didn't have any secrets in her closet, Mulder mused. She had a fairytale childhood with two loving parents and three loving siblings. Good for her, he thought. +=+=+= That Night Scully's Apartment Busy again, Scully thought, slamming the phone down. You could just call his cell, she reminded herself. No. That wasn't playing fair. Somehow, in a way that Scully couldn't specifically describe, it was...cheating. She glanced at her watch. Three and a half hours. What the *hell* could they find to talk about for three and a half hours? +=+=+= Mulder's Apartment "I don't know..." Mulder said. "She's just so closed up. She keeps everything so far down inside that whenever I know something is wrong and I ask her, she always tells me she's fine." "Those exact words?" Annie asked. "Yup," Mulder confirmed. "It's always "I'm fine, Mulder." The woman could be bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds and she'd still tell me she was fine. It's so...infuriating." Annie sighed, wondering what she could say to make it better. "Not everyone is as free with their emotions as you are, my friend," Annie said gently. "Some people can't give voice to the demons. It scares them too much." Mulder snorted. Annie meant well, but she didn't know Scully. Nothing scared Scully. "I really don't think that's it, Annie. Scully is a wonderful person, a great partner and my best friend. I know her better than anyone. Better than her family, in a lot of ways. There's not a whole hell of a lot Scully is afraid of." "Mulder, everyone is afraid of something." Mulder nodded, knowing that Annie couldn't see him, but also knowing she'd somehow hear the nod. "Yeah, I know, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is." "Maybe she's afraid of needing someone." Maybe afraid of needing *you*, Annie thought. "She has turned to me from time to time," Mulder admitted. "But in her way. Never obviously. Nothing overt. She's never actually asked for my help." That's not true, a voice inside Mulder's head announced. She did call you for help. You just weren't there. Memories of the night Duane Barry took Scully away filled Mulder's mind. He could hear the phone message in his head, as clearly as if he were actually listening to it. "Did you hear a word I just said?" Annie asked. "Sorry. I was thinking back to the last time Scully actually asked for my help." "Tell me about it," Annie prodded. +=+=+= Scully's Apartment Seven hours? The phone must be off the hook, she decided. He knocked it off the hook while he was sleeping. Scully glanced at the clock, one hand still on the receiver. It was almost two in the morning. Deciding, Scully lifted the phone and dialed. +=+=+= Mulder's Apartment "That's my cell," Mulder said. "Probably Scully." "Or some mysterious informant calling to tantalize you with more secrets," Annie teased. "Yeah, that's it," Mulder laughed, putting the phone down. "Mulder," he answered his cell. "Mulder, it's me," Scully's voice said. "Is everything all right?" "Everything's fine, Scully. Why?" There was a very long pause. "I've been trying to call you all night, Mulder." Oh shit, Mulder thought. "Sorry. I was talking to Annie." "Oh," Scully said. And then, after another long pause, "Sorry to interrupt, Mulder. I was just concerned." "Nothing to be concerned about, partner. Just chewing the fat with a friend." "Goodnight, Mulder." +=+=+= The Next Day FBI Headquarters Mulder found Scully in the office when he arrived, bent over her computer, typing furiously. "Morning," he said. "For someone that was up so late, you're awfully chipper this morning, Mulder." Mulder, in the process of hanging his coat up, froze. There was something in Scully's voice that he couldn't place. Walking to his desk, Mulder sat and booted his computer, still thinking. "Scully, you never told me what you wanted to talk to me about last night." She glanced up, her eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware I needed a reason to call you, Mulder." Danger, Mulder's mind flashed. "Anyway," Scully continued. "I finished the Tompkins report. Please review it and forward it to Skinner." Mulder nodded and turned to his computer. He located the file on the network and was about to open it when he spotted something. The timestamp on the file was 3:53am. "Scully?" he asked. "Hm?" "Have you been here since four this morning?" No, he mentally amended, she would have had to have been here even earlier in order to *finish* by four. "I couldn't sleep," Scully said. "Everything OK, Scully?" "Everything's fine, Mulder." Of course it is, Mulder thought. "Whatever," he mumbled, opening the report. +=+=+= That Night Annie Gitter's House "...and she just closed up, just like that," Mulder said. Annie Gitter, seated in a comfortable leather chair in her living room, tried to hide the sigh she felt coming. Mulder, as sweet as he was, was a dense as Redwood. His partner obviously had feelings for him, and the fact that he'd found someone else to open up to, her, was not helping matters between them. "Did you try to talk to her about it?" "Annie, you don't know Scully. The harder you press, the more she clams up. You just have to wait for it to reach the boiling point, and then it will all come pouring out. Until that happens, I just...have to wait." Annie Gitter nodded to the phone. "I understand." From her kitchen, Annie heard movement. A moment later, a familiar male head poked around the corner. Catching her eye, he mimicked a drinking motion. Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Annie said, "Tea, please." From the phone, she heard, "Who are you talking to?" "Michael," Annie said. A silence stretched between them. "You, uh, didn't tell me you had any brothers," Mulder said. And in that moment, Annie Gitter knew. "Oh, Mulder..." +=+=+= Mulder's Apartment "He's not your brother, is he?" Mulder asked, his voice sounding small and alone, even to his own ears. "No," Annie said. "Michael is my boyfriend." Mulder resisted the overwhelming temptation to throw the phone across the room. "I see." "I think I do, too," Annie said, treading carefully. "I have the feeling that there may be a slight misunderstanding between us, Mulder." I have that feeling too, Mulder thought. Only it's a *huge* misunderstanding. "Yeah," Mulder said hollowly, not sure what else to say. "I'm sorry if you feel I misled you." "No," Mulder said quickly. "I just assumed." I should have known better, he thought. I should have known not to get my hopes up. "I'm sorry," Annie said. "But you never asked." I shouldn't have *had* to ask, Mulder thought. "I know. Like I said, I assumed. A beautiful, intelligent, sexy woman calls me out of the blue, and I just thought..." Annie tried to think of something to say. "Well, if it's any consolation, if Michael and I weren't involved..." Ouch, Mulder thought. It isn't much consolation. "Thanks," he said softly. "Mulder, I want you to promise me something," Annie said. Mulder waited, listening. "I want you to promise me that you'll go to Scully's apartment tonight and tell her what you and I are to each other. Not what you thought you and I were, but what we are." Annie paused. "Friends. Good friends who share a common background, a common frame of reference." "Why?" Mulder asked, confused. "Because I'm the reason your pretty partner has circles under her eyes, the reason she's probably been crying, and the reason she can't sleep." Mulder, more confused than before, asked, "What are you talking about?" Annie Gitter smiled. "Mulder, Scully cares about you. More than as just a friend, or a partner. She cares very deeply for you. She wants to be there for you the way that I am, and it's driving her crazy that I just waltzed into your life, and, for all intents and purposes, took you away. She feels threatened by me, but she'll be dammed if she'll admit it to anyone, least of all herself." Mulder considered this. "Mulder, Scully can be there for you. You once told me that she's not scared of anything, that she had a perfect life. No matter how much you want to believe that, it's just not true. You told me about her abduction. You told me about her sister. If you can get her to open up, to talk about those things the way you and I talk...I think you'll find that you and Scully have a lot more common ground than you think." The only trick, Mulder thought, is getting her to open up in the first place. "I'll try," Mulder said. "That's all I can promise. I'll try." +=+=+= Scully's Apartment I won't call, Scully thought. No matter how much I want to, I won't call. She stood, staring at the phone, urging herself to resist the temptation. If I call, and it's busy, it'll just drive me crazy. If it's not busy, he'll want to know why I called, and I can't tell him that I'm... What? Checking up on him? The sudden ring almost made Scully jump out of her skin. Mom, she thought, lifting the receiver. "Hello?" "Scully, it's me," Mulder said. "Listen...do you have any plans tonight?" Scully considered her response. In the end, she decided that honesty was, in fact, the best policy. "No, Mulder. I'm just puttering around the apartment." "Can I come over? I need to talk about something." Scully was about to suggest that Mulder talk about whatever "something" was with Annie, but thought better of it. "Sure, Mulder. C'mon over." +=+=+= 22 minutes later Scully's Apartment Scully greeted Mulder at the door wearing jeans and a soft v-neck sweater. She was barefoot and carrying a cup of coffee. "Hi," she said, stepping back to allow him to enter. Mulder walked in and shut the door behind himself. They stood in her foyer, silently regarding each other. "So what did you want to talk about?" Scully asked, sipping her coffee. Mulder moved to the couch, shedding his jacket as he walked. "Annie," he stated flatly. Oh, Jesus, Scully thought. "What about her, Mulder? Going to propose?" Scully teased, trying to lighten the mood a little. The stricken look that passed across Mulder's features answered her question, and Scully was immediately ashamed. Taking a seat on the other side of the couch, she faced her partner. "Sorry about that. I can see by the look on your face that I struck a nerve." "You could say that," Mulder said slowly. "Annie," he continued after a pause, "has a boyfriend." Oh, Mulder, Scully thought, mentally preparing herself for what she was sure lay ahead. A broken- hearted Mulder was....difficult. "I thought," Mulder continued, "that she and I were moving in a direction. A very specific, and I thought, wonderful direction." His eyes were downcast, studying the surface of Scully's coffee table. "She was...the first woman that I've connected with in a long time, Scully." Scully felt her nose crinkle in annoyance. So what am I, Mulder, chopped liver? Mulder held his hand out, palm up. After a minute, Scully took it. "You and I," Mulder said softly, slowly, "have been partners for a long time. Friends, too. You're the most important person in my life, Scully. Annie or no Annie. I know I haven't exactly shown that lately, and I'm sorry. Annie and I can talk about things that you and I don't talk about. She and I share a common frame of reference." Scully nodded, accepting that. "But that's not entirely accurate, Scully. You and I... we don't talk much, do we?" Scully shuddered, remembering another person seated on this very same couch, asking the very same question, but for an entirely different reason. Almost against her will, Scully heard herself responding. "You mean, really talk, Mulder?" He nodded. "No. No we don't." "I want to change that, Scully. I want to change that because we also share a common frame of reference." Scully waited, wondering what, exactly, Mulder was talking about. "You and I are different people. We react to things in different ways. At least...we react outwardly in different ways. Me? I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, Scully. There's no doubt about what I'm feeling the moment I feel it." Scully squeezed Mulder's fingers, encouraging him. "You're more...circumspect. You don't hide your feelings as much as...you tend to try and protect others from them. You don't want to burden people with them, I guess. That sometimes seems like you're closing yourself off from others." He paused. "From me," he added. Mulder felt Scully trying to pull her hand away. He covered it with his other one, gently tugging. "Let me finish," he said. After a moment, Scully nodded and stilled. "When I originally told you about my sister, you were the first person who didn't laugh at me. You didn't believe me...but you didn't laugh, either. You probably thought I was off my rocker, and..." He smiled at her. "You were probably right. About me being off my rocker, I mean. When I told Annie about my sister, she told me outright that she didn't believe me either. But she accepted the fact that I believed it, and that for me, it was truth. It was fact. It happened, just as I remembered it. And that was the first validation of that memory that I ever had." He moved over, closer to her, lowering his voice even more. "Whenever I try and bring certain things up with you, you pull away. Your abduction. Melissa. Your cancer. I know you allow me to share with you the things that are on my mind." He paused again. "I want you to share with me, Scully. I want you to tell me what you're feeling. What your fears are. Your worries. Your nightmares. We share so much, and...it's all somehow so superficial. We spend so much time pretending we aren't as close as we are, as we really, truly are, that we end up spending all this energy on...building false walls that there's almost nothing left over." Scully began speaking, not sure where the words were coming from. "I was afraid, Mulder. Afraid that this Annie woman had gotten so close to you so quickly that..." Scully glanced away, not able to look at Mulder as she finished the thought. "Afraid that she was going to take you away from me." "I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but you've become such a part of my life that I can't imagine it...or me...without you. She seemed to...*know* you, Mulder. Know you better than I ever have. You told her things that you never told me." "I told you," Mulder said gently. "You just didn't hear what I was really saying." "What were you really saying?" Scully asked, holding her breath. "Help," Mulder whispered. "I was saying "Help me, Scully."" Scully sighed. "You've always been there for me, Scully." He paused. "I need you to let me be there for you, too." "It's not easy for me, Mulder," Scully said, hating the whining tone that she heard in her own voice. "I know. But I want you to try, Scully." He paused. "I thought I was falling in love with Annie Gitter. I thought I had met the one person that could...make me whole." He hesitated. "I realized tonight that Annie wasn't the person that makes me whole. "You are." +=+=+= THE END. Author's Note: Longtime readers will (most likely) recognize the title; the term, as mentioned in the story, is from author Andrew Vachss. Mr. Vachss is an attorney who specializes in representing the children of abuse in the New York City juvenile justice system. He is also the author of a series of books that I have recommended in the past, and am taking the opportunity to recommend again. If you have not read Mr. Vachss' work, and like "hard-boiled detective fiction," then run, do not walk, down to your local booksellers. Start with "Flood," and then move on to "Strega" and "Blue Belle" and through "Hard Candy" and "Sacrifice" and "Down in the Zero" and "Footsteps of the Hawk," and all the rest of his Burke novels.