Title: Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Author: Angel-of-the-Silence

Rating: NC-17 (Eventually)

Summary: Mulder and Scully locate a child slavery cell of cloned children. When they discover the US Navy's involvement with two girls thought to be products of the ring, Harm and Mac are brought in to assist. Cross-over fic featuring Harm and Mac as well as Mulder and Scully.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they are property of Donald P. Bellisario/ Bellisarius Productions (Harm, Mac, Webb, Palmer, Jordan, Coulter, Annie/Darlin and JAG staff) and Chris Carter/ 1013 Productions (Mulder, Scully, CSM, Samantha, Spender, as well as the accompanying FBI personnel.)

A/N: In my timeline, Jordan and Harm broke it off prior to the story taking place after a lovers tiff that Harm thought was ridiculous and Jordan insisted finished everything between them, she cut off all ties and fled to Spain much earlier in the JAG timeline.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines
What's fucked up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah
Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I walk alone
I walk a...

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone...

Chapter One:

JUNE 13, 2003

0935 EDT/ 1335 ZULU

JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

I survey my office: a two week vacation has done little to ease the near disaster area that is my desk. It wasn't a vacation per-say, more of a working holiday. For the past two weeks I had bounced across the Atlantic fleet, examining JAG office after JAG office aboard ships. I had flown from the USS John F. Kennedy, to the USS Seahawk, to the USS Patrick Henry, to the USS Stanley Dace, as well as about thirty others I couldn't recall once my COD had left the deck. It was part of my punishment from the Admiral for being too vocal about him and Dr. Walden, after they split. No thanks to Harm… he could have at least warned me.

Letting out a deep breath, I make my way to my desk, picking up two manila folders that have found their way into my desk chair. I sit down and widen my eyes to try to keep myself awake. It's hell, I haven't been feet dry two hours, and here I am, sitting behind my desk at JAG Ops, ready for what the Admiral had seen fit to throw my direction while I was at sea. Sorting through the files, I carefully lay each one aside, stacking them neatly in my inbox. I am tired, and don't really feel ready to dive right in, so I procrastinate a little longer by arranging each case alphabetically.

By the time I get to the Ps, Harm knocks at my door and sticks his head in.

"Hey, do you have a minute, Mac?" Visions of all kinds of things I "have a minute" for swim through my mind, before I shake them away.

"Yeah, sure. Come on in, what's on your mind?" Harm looks very serious, dark and moody—not like himself at all. He closes the door and comes to sit on the edge of my desk, facing me. Very quietly, he hands me a manila envelope. It is big enough for a large case file, on the outside it has Harm's name in a neat, no-nonsense, flowing script. I pour the contents of the envelope onto the table and begin to rifle through them.

"Do you remember that little girl, Darlin? The one that her twin was murdered?" He finally says after several long seconds. I nod, wondering where this is going.

"Yes, I remember her," I wonder instantly what has happened to that sweet, shy little girl. "Is there something wrong? Is Darlin okay?" Fear sits on my chest, and I forget about the file.

"Yeah, Darlin's alright, to the best of my knowledge—if that's who she really is." I can't believe how troubled Harm looks, it is like finding his father all over again.

"Harm, what is it?"

"Darlin may not be who she is."

"What? What do you mean, 'She may not be who she is'? How can she not be… explain." I fumble for words, I am so confused. What the hell does he mean?

"I mean, Darlin, may not be Darlin, she may be something else." His voice is anguished, and he puts his hand to his eye.

"Something? Don't you mean someone? Are you saying she's not the real Darlin?" I ask, rapid fire.

"I mean something, I got this report," he gestures at the stack of papers that now sit before me, "that indicated that Darlin might not have really belonged to the family she had been living with. That would explain the mistreatment, the beatings—a lot of it." I can only gape at him. Being flesh and blood had never stopped my father from beating the hell out of me when I was a kid. And I say so.

Harm's eyes bug out when he realizes what he said and how I took it. He does this very adorable about face, trying to salvage the conversation, I let him sweat for a minute before I tell him I knew what he meant.

"Oh, that was dirty, Mac, trying to wheedle out of me what you wanted. You almost had me there for a minute." He wags a finger in my face. I grab it and yank on it gently.

"Yeah, whatever, flyboy, I had you big time. I just wish I could have gotten a picture of it, so I could pull it out and black mail you into getting my way more often." I laugh and release his finger. He raises his eyebrow at me.

"You know, there are certain things you could get from me by being nicer, Mac." I can feel my mouth smile as my eyebrows climb into my bangs. He narrows his eyes at me.

"Red light, Colonel," Harm says and gets up to leave, and I realize that he can read what I'm thinking. My mouth drops open in embarrassment, and my cheeks begin to feel like they are on fire.

"Be sure and read that file, I think you and I are going to go to Kansas City for a couple of days to play with the FBI kids, so don't forget to pack a bag." And with that he is gone. I let out a huff of air and mumble under my breath, "Goddamn squids… pack a bag—eesh!"

What I wouldn't give for this vacation to be under different circumstances.

Two Days Earlier

1:32 PM

FBI Headquarters

Washington DC

"Mulder, I hate you," I say from between my fingers. He looks up and cocks his head to one side. While he waits for me to explain, he taps his pencil against the edge of his desk. Tap, tap… tap, tap—it's infuriating.

Finally, I can no longer take it. I let my hands fall back to my desk.

"Why do you want to let the JAG people in on this case? We already have jurisdiction, why do we need them to help? They'll just be underfoot and in the way."

"Scully, the JAG offices headed an investigation that involved two of our girls. Apparently one was murdered and the Navy took the other girl into custody, believing the children were identical twins." He looks at me as if this should have meaning to me. I wonder if the case had anything to do with Emily, my daughter. When I look down, he must sense what my conclusion has been.

"They weren't Emily… they were Angie Saundholm. Angie has been missing from south central Kansas since 1959. Sadly enough, I think she could have been found, but in 1959, finding a kidnapped black girl was not on the sheriff department's list of priorities. Chances are, she was sold on the black market, and that's how our boys ran across her." And suddenly it occurs to me why Mulder is so hung up on this particular little girl.

This little girl could lead him to Samantha—Mulder's Holy Grail. Angie could also lead me to Emily, or at least to finding someone who can tell me what happened and why Emily was used the way she was, as a glorified lab rat. Tears sting my eyes as I think of the last time I saw Emily, her tiny, frail body resting in a hospital bed. Anger steals my tears when I recall how they stole her from me in the end as well. They took her body, leaving me with my memories and a casket full of sand, with a single gold cross pendant on a fine chain resting on the top layer. Those men whom I will stop at nothing to find, even if it means giving my life so no other child will ever go through what Emily did.

"So now what?" I ask, wondering if Mulder has actually planned that far ahead, or if sucking me in was the only thing he had thought up so far.

"We wait. I have arranged for this to be a joint FBI/ Navy project. I am going to need you to verify the DNA evidence, of course, and I'm going to need that by Wednesday—I have a meeting with the officer that headed the investigation. Now if you'll excuse me I have some digging I need to do before I meet with Commander Rabb." And like a shot he is gone, leaving a folder on my desk.

"Mulder, did you say Rabb?" I ask, there is no answer, "Mulder? Mulder!" I shout after him. Asshole. I've already told him I hated him once today, and I think he's due to hear it again. I grab the folder and stand with a groan. On my way to the Pathology lab, I grab my lab coat off the coat stand and put it on. Glancing one last time around the now empty office, I say to myself, "You owe me, Mulder."