Value & Honor
by Forte
(Forte1354@aol.com)

Please see Chapter 1 for rating, summary, disclaimer, etc.


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- Chapter 6 -

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2630 Hegal Place
Apartment 42
Friday, 8:05 p.m.


After Kurt Crawford's departure, Scully remained on the couch, eyes
downcast, forearms on her thighs, hands clasped together.  Mulder
sat with her for the first minute, waiting to see if she would
speak.  When she didn't, he decided to let her process their meeting
with Crawford without him hovering.  He rose, then started gathering
his scattered belongings from the floor -- mail, dry cleaning,
dinner.

< Good thing I didn't get the soup > he thought wryly, placing the
dented take-out container in his refrigerator.

When he returned to the living room, he saw that Scully hadn't
stirred.

Mulder sought and found the pieces of his cell phone.  Except for a
few splinters of plastic, the body of the phone was intact.  The
battery pack, which had separated from the phone's body, snapped
back into place without trouble.  He was pleased when he thumbed the
phone on and heard a dial tone.

"Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'," he quipped.

He glanced back over at his partner, hoping for a reaction to his
lame joke.  Scully was now reclined against the back of the couch,
eyes closed and head tilted back as though she were taking a nap. 
But the strained look on her face told him that she was quite awake.
 Without taking his eyes from her, he turned the phone off again and
placed it on the edge of the desk.  Then he walked to the kitchen,
checking that the entry door was locked, and filled a large glass
with cold water.  He returned to the living room with the glass, sat
beside her, and took a long sip.  Still she didn't move.

"Water?" he asked, voice low.  He extended his arm to hold the glass
in front of her.

Scully sighed and blinked her eyes open.  She stared at the ceiling
for a long moment before sitting up straight and taking the water
>from him.  She took three short sips and then handed it back to him.
 "Thanks."

Mulder nodded, took another sip, and set the glass on the coffee
table.  He wondered what he should say next, how he should address
the bombshell that Kurt Crawford had dropped on them.  His partner
surprised him by speaking first.

"What do you think about what Kurt told us?" she asked, matching his
low tone.  "Do you think we can trust him?"

"Scully, you're the only one I trust."  She rewarded him with a tiny
smile.  Mulder returned it briefly, then chewed on his bottom lip
before continuing.  "But I don't distrust him either.  If he'd
wanted to harm us, he had the opportunity.  If he'd wanted to force
us to go somewhere, he could have done that, too."

"I know," she agreed.  "If he's telling the truth, then... "  She
paused.  "Then we'll want to pursue it.  So we wait to hear from
him, and then proceed with caution?"

"Of course," Mulder smiled.  "You know that 'caution' is my middle
name, Scully."

Scully exhaled a laugh, smiling and tucking her chin.  Then she
squeezed her eyes shut, sucked in a slow breath, and raised her hand
to rub her forehead.

"You okay?" Mulder asked, squinting with concern.

Scully opened her eyes and nodded.  "I'm just tired."

"It's been a long week," Mulder acknowledged.

Scully made a sound that was like a polite snort.  "Mulder, this day
alone has lasted longer than most weeks."  Scully took a deep
breath, leaned over to rest her forearms on her thighs again, and
hung her head.  "I'm just tired," she repeated.  "Tired of going God
knows where, chasing after God knows who, to find out God knows
what."

"I know, Scully," he said, his quiet voice filled with compassion. 
"I know you're tired."

She rubbed her forehead again; took another slow, deep breath. 
Then, as though she'd made a decision, she sat up straight again. 
"I just need a good night's sleep, Mulder," she stated.  "That's all
I need.  Then I'll be ready to go God knows where again."

Mulder stared at her for a second, in awe of her strength.  Then he
reached up and rubbed her back a few times as he had earlier, and
broke into a wide grin.  "Scully, you're amazing."  As if in
response to his touch, her stomach growled loudly.  He chuckled. 
"Sounds like you're hungry too."

"I guess so," Scully admitted.  "I haven't eaten since lunch."

"Me neither.  Want to split my pad Thai?  There's plenty."

"Twist my arm."

Still grinning, Mulder went to the kitchen to heat up the take-out
food.  As he worked, his mind drifted, replaying recent events, and
his smile waned.  They'd had a miserable week in Rhode Island with
the Jack Morse case, but that was nothing compared to the hellish
day that Scully had had.  Ridicule and insults from Diana.  Autopsy
reports on children from Kersh.  A painful lunch conversation.  More
autopsy reports.  And now Kurt Crawford's news.  It was a damn
miracle she wasn't curled up in a ball in the corner, sobbing.

But then, this was Scully.

Mulder looked out at his partner sitting on the couch.  She was
fingering the glass of water, lost in thought.  He had to admire her
seemingly indomitable spirit.  She gave, and gave, and gave, and
when any mere mortal would have given up she gave some more.  And
all she wanted was a good night's sleep?

He carried the reheated food to the living room and sat down next to
her, holding out one of the plates.  "Scully -- " he started.

< Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?  How proud I am to be
your partner? >

She gazed at him as she took the dish.  "Yes?"

Faced with her perfect blue eyes, he lost his nerve.  Instead, he
gestured to her plate.  "I gave you all the tofu.  I know you like
it."

She looked down at the plate's contents, then back up at her
partner.  "Thank you, Mulder," she said quietly.

"No problem," Mulder replied.  "I told you there was plenty."

She shook her head and gave him another small smile.  "I wasn't
talking about the food."

He smiled back at her, and they ate in content, companionable
silence.

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*RIIIIIIING*

The sound of his phone startled Mulder from his sleep.  "Wha -- " he
sputtered, sitting bolt upright.  He realized that he'd fallen
asleep sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table.  As he sat
up, his hand brushed against Scully's.  She blinked at him in
confusion, telling him that the ringing phone had woken her also. 
She sat about a foot away from him, and by the warmth he felt along
the edge of his hand he must have been touching hers in his sleep. 
< Connected, even when we're not awake. > he mused.  He pulled his
feet off the coffee table and reached for the cordless handset on
the coffee table.

< What a wild pair we are on a Friday night... eat take-out and fall
asleep on the couch. >

*RIIIIIIING*

"Yeah, yeah," Mulder muttered, flicking on the phone with this
thumb.  "Hello."  He turned his head to look at the clock.  9:45
p.m.

"Mulder!"

"Yeah, Frohike.  What's up?"  Out of the corner of his eye he saw
Scully arch an eyebrow.  She gestured for him to let her listen. 
Mulder moved closer to her and tilted the cordless so she could
hear.

"You tell me," Frohike replied.  "What happened to you and your
phone earlier?  The luscious Agent Scully was worried about you."

"My phone," he said, glancing over at the corded phone on his desk,
"was tied up by a distraction."

"Distraction?" the Gunman asked.  "I didn't... interrupt anything,
did I, Mulder?"

"No, Frohike, you didn't interrupt anything," Scully spoke up. 
"What's going on?"

"Agent Scully," Frohike blurted.  "You're there."

< Busted! > Mulder thought.

"=Yes=, I am here," she replied, exasperated.  "I was talking to you
just before I arrived, remember?"  Frohike stuttered a few times
before Scully continued.  "Did you find out anything about Mulder's
phone line?"

"Uh, yeah.  Your 'distraction' accessed three different sites:  the
British Medical Journal, the New England Journal of Medicine, and
the Journal of the American Medical Association."

Mulder and Scully's eyes met.  "So Kurt was telling the truth,"
Mulder muttered.

"Frohike," Scully said, "can you access those same sites and
download anything containing 'cancer,' 'oncology,' or 'gene
therapy'?"

"Sure, but it'll take some time.  We can start that right away.  Is
there anything else we can do to help, Agent Scully?"  The Gunman
sounded more solicitous than Scully had ever heard him before. 
She'd have to catch him calling her "luscious" more often.

Mulder leaned a little closer to her to speak into the phone. 
"Yeah, search for the name 'Kurt Crawford' in car rental records for
the past week -- anywhere in the country.  And check whether there's
a record of him taking a bus, plane, or train to DC.  'Kurt' is with
a 'K' and 'Crawford' with a 'C', but check all the spelling
variations, too."  He shrugged at his partner and lowered his voice.
 "I doubt he would have traveled under that name, but...."  She
nodded her agreement.

"Anything else?  You want some fries with that, Mulder?"

"Very funny.  Just send me an e-mail with whatever matches you find.
 You can come by next week to pick out your token of my gratitude."

"Deal," Frohike enthused.  "You'll be hearing from us."  The line
disconnected.

"Well, that's a start," Mulder said, thumbing off the phone.  He
stood, stretching, and moved away from the couch.  He deposited the
phone on top of the TV before moving over to his computer and
booting it up.  "With luck I'll have an e-mail from them within a
few hours."  He felt his partner's eyes following him as he opened
the e-mail application and returned to the couch to sit next to her.
 "So you were worried about me, Scully?" he teased.

"Yes, and clearly with good reason."  Scully sighed.  "You certainly
do attract the most interesting house guests, Mulder."

Mulder scrubbed his face with one hand, fatigued.  "Yeah, I was Mr.
Popularity tonight.  Kurt wasn't the only visitor I had."

< Oh, shit. >

Scully sat up straighter and looked at him with curiosity.  "Why? 
Who else visited you?"

< Shitshitshit >

Mulder cleared his throat and looked at his feet.  He hadn't wanted
to stumble into the conversation like this.

"Mulder?"

Deep breath.  "Diana."

One Scully eyebrow went up, and her jaw tightened.  "Oh?"

"Yeah, she was waiting for me outside the building when I got home. 
I talked to her just before you called me."  He looked up to meet
her eyes.  He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to add, "She
didn't come in.  We talked outside."

Scully nodded.  "What did she want?"

Mulder shrugged, his forced nonchalance unsuccessful in hiding his
nervousness.  "She wanted to apologize for this morning.  She... was
angry that a 'non-believer' had been assigned to the X-Files, but
she let her anger get out of hand.  She wanted me to pass along her
apology, too.  But I told her I couldn't do that for her."

"Isn't that what you're doing now?"

"No, all I'm doing now is telling you what happened, as your
partner.  And as your friend.  I thought you would want to know the
truth.  Was I wrong?"

"No," Scully admitted.  "No, you're not wrong."  She paused, brow
furrowed.  "Did she say how she found out... ?"

Mulder hung his head, studying his shoes, deciding how to tell her
the truth.  < Look her in the eye > he told himself.  < She deserves no
less.>  He lifted his head to meet her gaze.  "She thought that you
were assigned to the X-Files to destroy the work."

"Wasn't I?"

"Well, yes, but...."  How the hell was he supposed to tell her this?
 He glanced down at the floor and cleared his throat for a second
time before meeting her eyes again.  "Anyway, she did some
investigating, trying to dig up some damning evidence about you. 
And in the process... she found out about your petition to adopt
Emily, and read the summary of the hearing, which included..."  He
trailed off and waited for her to absorb the information.

She paled.  "Oh, my God..."  Mulder watched as her face flashed
through shock, then resignation, and then a calm that he knew she
didn't really feel.  "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  It was
bound to happen sooner or later."  She maintained the stoic mask,
but Mulder could hear the sadness and sense of violation in her
voice.  After several moments of silence, she asked, "What else?"

Trying to lighten the mood, Mulder added, "I also told her if she
fucked with you again she'd find her ass in a sling."  He grinned
sheepishly.

"You don't need to protect me, Mulder."

Mulder held up his hands in mock protest.  "I didn't say =who= would
put her ass in a sling.  I have no doubt that it would be you."  He
paused, turning serious again. "What she did was inexcusable, but
she had an explanation.  She was being petty and stupid -- she said
so herself -- and I suppose jealous, too.  It's not like her, but
that's what it was."

"Do you believe her?"

"I don't have a reason not to.  Why do you ask?"

Now Scully studied the floor.  "Mulder, I have learned from you to
question what everyone says.  And to question their motives."  She
looked at him again and shrugged.  "Did she have anything else to
say?"

Mulder snorted with derision.  "She said that she forgets that she
doesn't have to watch my back any more."

Scully's eyebrow arched again.  "And you said... ?"

"Just the truth, Scully.  That she's not my partner.  =You= are, and
I plan on keeping it that way for a long time."

Mulder paused, watching for any negative reaction.  None.  In fact,
she looked interested, even encouraging.  So far, so good.  Well,
this day had been so miserable for her that she deserved to hear a
truth that was CONstructive rather than DEstructive.

"What I =didn't= tell her, Scully.... is that you're the best damned
partner I've ever had, or could ever hope to have.  You're the only
one I want watching my back."  He paused.  Although Scully looked
pleased, she said nothing, as though waiting for more.  So he
continued.  "Diana... she offered to get me back on the X-Files,
with her.  I told her no.  It's no contest, Scully.  I'd rather work
with you on fertilizer duty than be on the X-Files without you."

Scully looked stunned.  Pleasantly so, but stunned nonetheless.

"Come on, Scully, you can't tell me that you didn't know that
already."  He grasped her arm and squeezed gently.  "Just a
variation on a theme you've heard before."  With his eyes, he
gestured towards the door to the hallway.

Scully smiled with understanding, looked down for a moment, then
raised her head to look into his eyes.  But even through the smile
Mulder saw the pain left in the wake of the evening's events.

Mulder smiled back.  "You know, Scully, if this were a movie, this
would be about the time that the beautiful heroine throws herself
into the arms of the handsome hero."

If he hadn't known better, Mulder would have thought that her eyes
shimmered with mischief.  "Mulder, I know what kind of movies you
watch, and we're overdressed for that kind of scene."

"You coming on to me, Scully?"

"In your dreams, Mulder."  Scully pushed herself off the couch until
she was standing facing him.  She continued to hold her enigmatic
smile.  "I never got you that ice for your head.  Better late than
never."  She turned and walked towards the kitchen with a purposeful
stride.

< In my dreams. > Mulder thought ruefully.  < Every night, Scully. >

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Scully returned a few minutes later with a plastic bag of ice
wrapped in a towel.  Handing it to him, she remarked, "Hold this on
the back of your head for ten minutes.  If it's still bothering you
later, apply it for another ten minutes."  Mulder nodded, taking the
pack.  "I think I'm going to head for home before I fall asleep
again."

"You don't have to go if you're that tired, Scully," he protested. 
"You can stay here for the night."

His partner shook her head.  "I want to get up early to finish
working on those autopsy reports from Kersh.  I'd like to have that
out of the way before we go running off on some field trip with Kurt
Crawford."

Mulder nodded his acknowledgment as he rose from the couch, leaving
the ice pack on the coffee table.  "All right, Scully.  I'll see you
tomorrow."  He followed her to the door to let her out, placing his
hand lightly on the small of her back as she passed him.  "Call me
if you need anything."

"I will," she responded.  He watched her until she disappeared into
the elevator, then closed and re-locked his door.

Yawning, Mulder crossed to his computer, then sat down and put on
the wire-rimmed glasses that had been resting by the keyboard.  No
messages yet.  He removed the glasses, leaving them on the desk
again, and moved back to the couch.  He lay down with the ice pack
at the back of his head, flicked the TV on with the remote, and fell
asleep to the sounds of The Discovery Channel.

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*RIIIIIIING*

The sound of his cordless phone startled Mulder from his sleep. 
< Twice in one night? > he thought, groggy.  He half-fell to his knees
off the edge of the couch and reached to the end of the coffee table
for the handset.  Thumbing on the phone, he tried to mutter "Yeah." 
What came out of his sleepy mouth was indecipherable.

"Mulder?"

"Scully?"  The serious tone of her voice woke him up faster than
anything else could have.  He turned his head to look at the clock. 
5:36 a.m.  Scully would never call at this hour unless...  "Are you
all right?  What's wrong?"

"Everything is wrong, Mulder.  Everything about this is wrong.  I've
been awake all night thinking about what Kurt Crawford said. 
Whatever he has in mind, I don't want to pursue it.  I'm not going
wherever it is he wants to take us."

Mulder's free hand gripped the coffee table in disbelief. 
"Scully... if what Crawford said is correct, you'll be able to get
rid of that chip in your neck.  Don't you want that?"

"Mulder, we've had carrots dangled in front of us before.  We wind
up going around and around and we never get anywhere."  She sucked
in a deep breath, as though rushing to get the words out before
losing her nerve.  "I'm sick of being used, I'm sick of not knowing
where the =hell= I'm going to wake up tomorrow, I'm sick of not
knowing what they're going to take from me next.  I just want them
to leave me alone.  I want all of them to leave me alone."

Mulder blinked at his partner's unusual outburst.  His limbs felt
heavy and numb.  < Scully... Scully, don't do this. >  "Scully... I
don't know what to say."

Ignoring his comment, Scully continued.  "And no, Mulder, before you
even ask, I'm not leaving the X-Files and I'm not leaving you.  But
I'm tired, Mulder.  I'm tired and I want to go home."

"Home?" he mumbled.

"Yes, Mulder, home.  You know, that place Dorothy wanted to go in
The Wizard of Oz?  I've had enough, Mulder.  I give up on this one. 
They win."

Mulder felt a chill run down his spine at her final words.  "Scully
-- you can't mean that.  Do you realize what you're saying?  You're
giving up on yourself.  You can't do that, Scully.  I won't let
you."

"I don't want to argue about it, Mulder.  Besides..."

"Yeah?" he asked, voice full of fear.

"You have mail," she said, imitating the computer voice that
announced new e-mail.

He blinked.  "How --" he started, rolling on his knees to turn to
look towards his PC.

And then suddenly he was falling to the floor, face down, and landed
with a grunt.

Blinking, he pushed himself up into a kneeling position and took a
deep breath.  < What the hell? >  His eyes darted in search of the
phone.  "Scully?" he called, hoping she would hear him through the
receiver, wherever it had fallen.

And then he spotted it.

Across the room, on top of the television.  Right where he'd left it
after speaking with Frohike.

"Oh, shit," he muttered, sinking to a seated position on the floor. 
He leaned against the couch and ran his hand through his hair. 
< Having a little guilt complex, eh?  Don't do enough of that during
the day, so you'll have a little fun when you dream, too? >

He sat for a moment, trying to control his breathing and heart rate,
telling himself over and over that it was just a dream, it wasn't
really Scully, Scully wasn't giving up, it was just a dream...

At least the dream Scully had said she wasn't leaving him.  His
subconscious wasn't =that= self-recriminating.

Finally calmed, he looked up at the clock.  His sense of time hadn't
been off by much in his dream -- it was 5:48 a.m.  Then he turned
his gaze toward his PC.  Sure enough, the new mail icon was
flashing.  He groaned as he climbed to his feet, then tottered over
to the desk, sat down, and slipped on his glasses.  Grabbing the
mouse, he clicked on "read".

One new message, from the Gunmen.  Subject: "Kansas City".  < Nice
play on the initials, guys... > Mulder mused.  He opened the message.

"No matches anywhere under any spelling variation we could think of.
 Sorry."

Mulder sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and sighed.  < Okay,
no big surprise there. >

"You have mail."

Mulder blinked and leaned towards the PC's monitor.  Was he dreaming
again?  No, the new mail icon was flashing anew, and the Gunmen's
message was still on the screen.  He closed it to check the status
of his mailbox.

One new message.  No subject line.  From an address he didn't
recognize.

< Just some porno spam? >

He opened the message, sat back in the chair, open-mouthed, and then
reached for his cell phone to call Scully.

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- end Chapter 6 -

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Feedback is cherished at Forte1354@aol.com or bjm1352@aol.com.