The bottom of Mulder's stomach dropped as soon as he heard Langly utter the word sister. "I wouldn't be telling you if I wasn't sure," Langly half-apologized, trying to process his friend's reaction to the news. In many ways, he hated his role as the Mulder family gatekeeper, but he would rather be the bearer of bad tidings than a helpless bystander.

"But are you one hundred percent certain?" Mulder's hands slightly trembled, and he leaned against the wall, waiting for his heart to begin to slow.

"I don't think anyone can be absolutely certain about anything." Langly owed it to his friend to be honest.

Slowly, Mulder nodded, regaining control of his limbs. "What do the others think?"

"They have their doubts."

Mulder knew what that meant: Byers wasn't fully on board, a fact that Mulder found unsurprising. While Byers always approached his work with an abundance of caution, Mulder was unsure as to whether their recent disagreement had played a factor in his analysis. "What about Jimmy and Danny?"

A guilty look crossed Langly's face, and Mulder almost felt sorry for putting him in such a position. "They think it's more than a reasonable assumption, but they agree that since we're working out some bugs with the software, we may want to reserve judgment until we gather more data."

"What makes you think this is the real deal?" Mulder's question was far from accusatory. He was generally curious as to what made Langly so certain about the mystery woman's identity.

"Gut instinct." Langly shrugged, as though he were generally baffled by his own instincts. "I know you don't want to hear this, Muldey," Langly solemnly continued. "But you need to be prepared for the possibility that she might not be on the side of the angels, so to speak."

"Can you set up a sweep of the entire facility? Not just Marita's room, but the whole hospital." Mulder easily slipped into investigator mode; it made brushing off Langly's comment easier. He knew that his friend was only stating the obvious, but it pained him to think of his sister as a sinister figure, someone who would want to see him hurt.

Langly nodded. "I'll set it up. Jimmy's our man. Trust me. We've got this."

"And Langly? If you guys need to move slow on this, take your time. I would rather get it right than rush into something we can't undo."

"Of course," Langly promised. "And Mulder? About the gut instinct?"

Mulder looked up. "Yeah?"

"This whole scenario doesn't feel right to me," Langly explained. "Of course, it could mean nothing, but I owe it to you to be honest. We need to tread carefully."

XXXXXXX

Scully leaned against the kitchen wall, staring at the silhouette of her partner washing dishes, the faint scent of lemon soap wafting through the room. He had been scrubbing the same plate for the entire five minutes in which she had been standing behind him, and she wondered what could be on his mind. She had three guesses as to why he was brooding, and she wasn't sure which option was preferable.

After the initial upset, he seemed to have taken Nathan's latest escapade in stride, unmoved by the six-year-old's explanation that if he had his own puppy, he wouldn't be so bored as to have fed Bandit hot dogs. "Why couldn't you have just played with the dog we do have, then?" Mulder had asked, not receiving a response, letting Nathan know that he wouldn't be able to watch television for the next three days. Still, Scully knew that Mulder was secretly proud of Nathan's intellect, bragging that most second graders wouldn't have caught onto the hot dog wordplay.

Earlier, she had seen her partner and Langly talking in hushed whispers out of the corner of her eye; when they both practically jumped when Nathan came running toward them with his map of the Bigfoot forest, she knew it must have been a serious conversation. She and Mulder had briefly made eye contact, but she was once again interrupted with hostess duties, and by the time she found the extra juice boxes for Hank to bring to the kids, Mulder had slipped back outside.

The third option was Scully's usual go-to theory when one of his moods coincided with a visit from his mother: that Teena had managed to rile up her son in some way, shape or form. But she thought this to be unlikely, as Teena had spent most of the day with Professor Wharton in the air conditioned living room, while Mulder had been manning the grill outside.

Determined to get to the bottom of the matter, Scully walked towards her partner, slipping her arms around his middle for a tight squeeze, laying her head against his back. "Happy Father's Day," she said to him quietly.

Mulder finally put down the plate and shut off the faucet, grabbing a hand towel from the counter to rub his hands dry. He rested his hands atop of hers. "Thanks for organizing this, Scully."

"It was nothing," she told him.

"It was certainly more than that," Mulder argued, turning around to face her. "You always remind me that I'm loved. The same with the kids."

Despite the gentle tone of his voice, his face was hardened, his eyes almost vacant. "What happened with Langly?" she asked. "I saw you two talking."

Mulder chewed on his lip as he led her over to the farmhouse table, sitting down before pulling her into his lap. He collected his thoughts before speaking, burying his nose in her hair and skimming his hands on the swell of her stomach. "He thinks that the woman visiting Marita is my sister," he said softly into her ear.

"Oh, Mulder." Instantly, Scully radiated tenderness: her soothing voice drifted through the air as she clasped his jaw, the pads of her fingers softly rubbing his cheek. Mulder pressed a kiss to her hand, reaching over to run his palm down her side, chiding himself for thinking he would be better off without his partner's love and comfort. His hand wandered back to her belly, resting atop her bump. Scully could see the conflict play out in his hazel eyes; she knew that as much as he loved her and his children, his family would not be complete without his sister. Every time he reached a place where he felt a sense of closure, just as he was ready to let go, something new came to light. She knew that while he scrubbed those dishes, he was rethinking every decision he had ever made.

"But for now, at least for tonight, I think I'm going to worry about how I'll get through the next two weeks with the kids asking about Bigfoot every five minutes."

They both knew he was lying. She absently stroked his hair, wondering whether she should ignore his blatant attempt to redirect their conversation, finally deciding to take his lead. Stifling a yawn, she asked, "So you aren't worried about how the camping trip itself will go?"

Mulder shook his head. "Nice try, sleepyhead, but I'm not falling for it. We are going to find Bigfoot; that's what we men do. I think you need to go to bed. You're looking mighty tired."

"Hmmm, maybe I will," she reluctantly agreed. As much as she wanted to try and draw the pain out of her partner, she was getting to the point where she couldn't think straight. "Would your mother ever forgive me if I miss seeing her tomorrow morning?"

"You should go out with Stella, and figure out what we need for our littlest monster," Mulder encouraged her. "Mom won't be staying long. She just said that she wanted to drop off a gift for the boys before her flight home. You won't be missing anything."

"That's sweet," Scully murmured, closing her eyes. "I just hope it's nothing too…"

"Ridiculous?" Mulder laughed. "No, I reminded her about last Christmas. She mentioned something about Lincoln Logs. There's nothing to worry about."

XXXXXXX

Lincoln Logs his ass. He should have known better.

To be fair, there were Lincoln Logs currently underneath the coffee table, abandoned by the boys in favor of the other gift his mother brought: a jack russell terrier.

Mulder's heart plummeted when he opened the front door to see his mother with a wrapped package in one hand, and a dog's leash in the other. All hope that the scene before him was a figment of his imagination after a sleepless night was dashed as soon as Teena began to speak. "Close your mouth, Fox. It's unattractive."

"Mom, if this is what I think it is—" Mulder began, scratching his stubble.

"You know exactly what this is, and you are going to do this for me and for your children, especially Nathan. Do I make myself clear?" Teena clucked her head. "I don't ask for much, Fox. Boys? Nathan? William?"

"No, Mom, this is not—you can't—we are not—" Mulder couldn't help but stammer, bowled over by his mother's uncharacteristically aggressive behavior. She had a fire in her eyes that he swore he hadn't seen since he was a child. It was difficult for him to remember a time that predated Teena's incessant passivity. In the wake of his sister's disappearance, his mother had been practically catatonic; with the passage of time and the help of medication, she had managed to stay lucid for long stretches of time, with occasional bouts of hyperactivity.

In Mulder's opinion—as both a son and a psychologist—Teena Mulder spent those years mentally and physically reacting to the loss of her daughter, her body and mind more or less trapped in the past. The first time Teena demonstrated remarkable progress was upon the death of her ex-husband, which, Mulder figured, gave her the closure she needed to move on. Since then, Teena kept busy, splitting her time between Greenwich and South Carolina, filling her days with gardening and quilting and attending the ballet.

The second time Mulder noticed a significant shift in his mother's disposition was when he and Scully took custody of their sons. She showed interest in the boys from the beginning, speaking with them on the phone weekly, and writing them thank you notes for the art projects Scully sent on their behalf. Teena was admittedly unable to deal with noisy children for more than a few hours at a time, but to her credit, the boys never noticed, content and accepting of the love and attention their grandmother could provide.

Although Teena was unfailingly generous towards her grandchildren, her gestures tended to be impersonal: deposits into bank accounts, popular toys recommended by so-called experts with little regard for the boys' ages and interests, and clipped articles from The New York Times on imagined parenting concerns, such as food allergies and, much to Scully's chagrin, how to best prevent colds and flus.

"You've been telling me for years to listen to them, and I have."

Mulder snapped to attention, his coffee spilling onto his fist. "We already have a dog."

"Well, you already have three children, and that hasn't stopped you from having another. How could another dog possibly be me work than that?"

He felt his blood pressure rise, fighting the urge to throw his coffee mug across the room. "Mom, we can't—we need to discuss this first. Outside, please?

Teena drew a deep breath and followed her son to the front stoop. "No, we can't handle another dog, at least not right now," Mulder repeated.

"Did you see how sad Nathan looked yesterday?" Teena impatiently tapped her right foot on the floor, creating an echo that was quickly beginning to drive Mulder crazy.

"He was sad because I gave him a timeout and no TV for feeding hot dogs to Bandit—the dog we already have—when he knows better. And guess what, he got over it once he was distracted. Mom, I wanted a dog when he was his age and—"

"No, Fox. You never wanted a dog. You wanted a penguin. It was Samantha who wanted the dog. She was his age, and I told her no and she cried for days." Teena shifted her gaze from her son, a small cough the only indication that she needed a moment to collect herself. "He has her eyes, you know."

Mulder could feel the regret in his mother's voice; whether her speech constituted emotional blackmail was beside the point. They rarely spoke of his childhood, and when they did, it was to recall one of the same handful of memories, and certainly not anything as ordinary as what she had just shared. He wondered how much time his mother spent thinking about the past; maybe it was more often than he originally thought.

After a moment spent in silence, Teena brushed past him to reenter the house, calling for her grandchildren.

"Mom?" Mulder asked, his voice sticking to his throat. Her eyes looked sad, her expression, worn. In that moment, he wondered whether his mother had any idea that there had been a sighting of his sister mere miles away from where they stood. They had never discussed his search, Mulder not wanting to give his mother any false hope. And now, if faced with the choice, Mulder would rather his mother remember Samantha as a young girl who desperately wanted a puppy instead of meeting her as a woman on the wrong side of good.

Teena turned around, nodding at her son to continue.

"Just don't—don't tell Nathan he's your favorite, not if the others can hear. I know you say that to him, and you mean well. I—I just don't want the other two to be hurt. You're their only grandparent." He felt unsure of himself as he spoke, and he wondered whether his mother would notice.

"You've always been a good boy, Fox," Teena told him. "And you're a good father."

XXXXXXX

Mulder wracked his brain, trying to think of how he was going to explain the appearance of a second dog to Scully. When she had woken up that morning, she had offered to cancel her plans with Stella in favor of staying home. He hadn't quite bought her excuse of not feeling very well, as he knew she would probably be hovering over him after their conversation the previous evening. He lay on the couch, exhausted, his attention split between the clock on the mantle and the pile of puppies and children in front of him. All attempts to block out the cacophony of giggles, shouts, and barks were futile.

One of Mulder's favorite memories of Kyle was of that crisp Saturday morning where they drove out to a farm in Virginia to pick out a husky puppy. Since he had been promised a dog of his own a few months prior, Kyle had zealously researched different breeds, all in the quest to find a best friend. When they first entered the owner's house, she took one look at the eleven-year-old's earnest expression and advised, "Don't be nervous, kid. Your puppy will find you, not the other way around."

As soon as Kyle had sat cross-legged on the creaky wood floor, the puppy they would soon know as Bandit, indistinguishable from the pile of siblings surrounding him, practically lunged into his new owner's lap. As soon as his hand brushed the husky's fur, Kyle immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. Later, during their drive home, he told his father that his face hurt from smiling so much.

And Mulder had the privilege of seeing history repeat itself when the dog squeezed between his mother's legs, immediately heading in Nathan's direction. The terrier, tail wagging, jumped on his hind legs, placing his front paws on Nathan's knees before repeating the action with Will. Whenever Nathan became excited, he usually couldn't stop talking, but the dog's presence had struck him silent, a rare feat indeed. Will too was amazed by the gift, and both boys nodded vigorously when Teena explained that they were to share the dog.

"But what about Kyle?" Will asked.

"It's his dog too, but not until he wakes up and gets down here," Teena explained.

She had kept her promise not to play favorites, waiting until Will ran upstairs before reminding Nathan that he was her favorite grandchild, and that she considered him to in charge of the dog. "But it's very important that's our secret," Teena said. "You mustn't hurt your brothers' feelings."

Mulder was at a loss as to how to describe his mother's mood while she watched her grandsons frolic with their dogs. It was as though she was playing the role of an observer instead of taking part in the action, and while Teena didn't smile or laugh, she seemed to enjoy the scene playing out before her. It made him wonder whether he was still seeking his mother's love and approval. Was it both? Or was there really a difference between them?

Taking a sip of his coffee, Mulder asked what the boys thought they should name the dog. Nathan had an answer for him within seconds. "His name is Dagoo," the six-year-old announced.

"What do you think, Will?" Mulder asked his youngest son.

"Dagoo, Dagoo, I love you." Will sang, petting the dog at the nape of hits neck, making its ears wiggle. "Dagoo, Dagoo, I love you."

The five-year-old turned around, grinning at Bandit. "Bandit, Bandit, I love you," he continued, draping an arm around his neck, concerned that the husky was not getting enough attention from him and his brother. "Bandit, Bandit, I love you."

"Daddy, Daddy. See? They are best friends," Nathan piped up, throwing himself at the terrier. "Now Bandit won't get lonely when we're at camp."

Sure enough, the husky and the terrier were snuggling side-by-side, with Will trying to squeeze between them. "Puppy pile!"

A yawning Kyle entered the room, sitting on the couch next to his father's feet. "Whose dog is this?"

"Mine!" Nathan shouted, changing his answer when he saw his father glower. "Everybody's!"

Kyle laughed, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, right. Wow, Bandit really seems to like him!"

"His name is Dagoo," Will explained, before Nathan chimed in, knowing exactly what his younger brother was going to say next. "Dagooooo! Dagooooo!"

Kyle immediately understood the reason for his father's silence and rather ashen face. "Shit, it's really our dog? When did you and Dana decide?" When he didn't hear a response, he continued. "You didn't? Grandma did this?"

"You can stop laughing at any time," warned Mulder, staring at the ceiling. "This is really not funny."

"Will Dana make you take him to the pound?"

"Noooooooo!"

The boys—and their dogs—looked equally horrified upon hearing the p word.

"Mommy won't send him to jail," Will pronounced, with a slight hint of nervousness in his voice. "She's nice."

Mulder got off the couch and knelt to his son's height. "The pound isn't jail, Obi Will Kenobi. It's more like a camp for puppies. And you love camp."

"Yes, it is jail. You said!" Will pouted.

"I never said that."

"Yes you did," Nathan added, defending his younger brother. "When you said you were going to send Bandit to the doggy pound jail if he ate your cell phone again. Or if he ate more hot dogs."

"And when he jumped on you when he was dirty."

"And when—"

At that very moment, Mulder realized he truly was his own worst enemy; he had said all those things less than twenty-four hours earlier. Before his sons could remind him of all the other times in which he had uttered similar threats, he said, "Okay, okay. To start, we don't need to worry about that because Dagoo is staying with us. Why don't we go to the park to burn off some energy?"

Upon hearing the word park, Bandit jumped up and started barking, prompting Dagoo to do the same. "Any chance Scully won't notice?" he asked Kyle, who shook his head vigorously.

During their outing, Mulder tried to find whether there would be grounds for rehoming Dagoo, but he appeared to be the perfect dog. He was sweet and gentle with the kids; he played nicely with Bandit; he wasn't too noisy. But most importantly, he was the reason behind the boys' huge smiles. Of course, any grade schooler would be excited to be in the company of an energetic dog; but Mulder knew his kids, and he didn't think he had seen them as happy as they were that morning. That feeling was confirmed when Nathan ran over to him in the middle of a game of Frisbee throwing. Mulder thought he was hurt at first, but instead, Nathan gave him a big hug. "I love you, Daddy," he smiled, before running back to the puppies.

The boys would be devastated—Nathan especially—if they had to give up the dog. Mulder silently cursed his mother for putting him in such a position. He had been too stunned to put up much of a fight, and it was only now, after having the opportunity to silently reflect on the morning's events, that Mulder fully comprehended what they were getting into.

XXXXX

When the back door opened about fifteen minutes after their return from the park, the kids stood up in alert, abandoning their game of tug-of-war with Bandit and Dagoo, the soggy blanket falling to the floor.

"Stay here while I talk to Mommy," instructed Mulder, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts. His legs almost buckled from under him. His lack of sleep was catching up with him, and he suddenly felt nervous.

"Talk to me about what?" Scully called out from the kitchen, her voice hoarse. "What broke?"

"Nothing broke. I made some iced tea," Mulder answered, opening the fridge; it was the least he could have done, considering the circumstances. Noting the absence of bags and packages, he continued. "I thought you wouldn't be back until after lunch. Is there anything I need to grab from the car?"

Scully shook her head, gratefully accepting the cold drink, her exhaustion hitting her full force now that she had arrived home. "Thanks, I'm really thirsty and I think I need to lie down. We just browsed. I couldn't take any more walking, so we packed it in early. I think I found a car seat and stroller, but I want your opinion before we buy. I think the only way this could get any more complicated would be if we were having twins."

"Twins?" Mulder immediately paled and his hands began to shake. "Are you…is that a possibility?"

Scully's face crinkled as she chugged her iced tea, holding the cold glass to her neck. She scraped her hair away from her face. If she hadn't felt so terrible she would have found his reaction amusing. "Mulder, we've had three sonograms with one baby."

"And we're absolutely certain it was the same baby in all three of them?"

She threw him one of her patented Mulder-you're-crazy looks, complete with an arched eyebrow, wondering what mischief their progeny could have caused that morning for him to look so green around the gills. "Where is this coming from, Mulder? What's bringing this on?"

Mulder grabbed onto the kitchen counter for support. "Scully, I just want us to be able to handle the insanity that comes from having four or five kids, two dogs, a—"

"Mulder?" She knew she was feeling woozy, but she genuinely thought she had misheard her partner. "Did you just say two dogs?"

As if on cue, Bandit barked and Dagoo yipped in tandem, and the two pups—along with their three boys—ran into the kitchen together, Dagoo sporting one of Mulder's ties, and Bandit wearing Will's graduation cap.

"Please, just don't overreact," Mulder begged, vacantly staring at the scene before them. "I can explain everything."

Scully's blue eyes froze, and she kept looking at the dog and Mulder. Now she really needed to sit down. "Are you—was this—your mother—did she actually—"

"The answer to all of the above is yes, Scully. By the way, she did drop off some Lincoln Logs too."

"Mommy, this is Dagoo. Dagoo, this is Mommy. Daddy promised she wouldn't send you to the doggy pound jail," piped up Nathan.

"He and Bandit are best friends," Will added. "We love him, Mommy."

"Kids, let me talk to Mommy alone," Mulder interrupted, his eyes locked with those of his partner from across the room. "But don't worry, we're keeping Dagoo."

XXXXXXX

"I can't believe you just said that," Scully seethed, her body shoring up the energy she had lacked while shopping. She and Mulder were now holed up in his home office, where they had wordlessly decamped after his announcement. "We haven't talked about this. The boys know we haven't talked about this. Your mother gives our kids a fucking dog without asking us? We can't handle a second dog. And you didn't think to tell her no? And you agree without consulting me?"

He held up his hands in defeat; he already knew all the arguments for not adopting a second dog by heart, and the last thing he wanted was to hear them out loud. But all of that took a backseat to his primary concern: the pain he had seen his mother attempt to hide. "Scully, it's more complicated than that."

"How?" Scully's heart dropped while her anger rose; her fear that Teena would somehow find a way to manipulate Mulder was confirmed. Worse yet, her mother-in-law had used her grandchildren as the bargaining chip, a transgression for which she would be reluctant to forgive. Settling onto Mulder's old leather couch, she continued. "This is ridiculous. Mulder, you can't keep letting her do things like this."

Mulder's eyes immediately darkened. "Or what? Scully, I'm not cutting her out of my life. I know that's your solution to everything, but not mine. The dog is staying, and that's final."

His words sliced through her, leaving her shaken. This wasn't Mulder talking; whatever Teena said to him must have cut deep for him to not only throw her relationship with her own mother in her face like that, but also to play her against the children like how he had in the kitchen.

"Mulder, what the hell is going on? What happened? What did she say?" She tried to temper the panic in her voice, desperate to get to the bottom of whatever had transpired that morning. "Or did you talk to Langly again? Does he have more news?"

He suddenly felt the walls closing in on him; the sharpness of Scully's voice added to his claustrophobia. "Jesus Christ, Scully, knock it off. I'm getting out of here. I'll take the kids and the dogs."

"Don't, please Mulder. Talk to me. There's no reason to leave—Mulder—"

"Damnit, Scully, you said you can't handle them, so I will."

The door to the office slammed shut, and she could hear him announce to the boys that they were going on an adventure.

Scully rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on, and crawled onto the leather couch to collect her thoughts. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Mulder so angry and upset; they hadn't fought like that in months. It would be easier if it had been one single issue over which he was reacting, but of course, with them, it was never that simple. The list flew through Scully's mind as she closed her eyes: his mother, his sister, his decision to walk away from his quest three years ago, and all the corresponding emotional baggage that came with such a compromise.

She turned on her side, hoping to ease the pain in her lower back. Hot tears slowly welled as she confronted her biggest fear: that she and the kids weren't enough for Mulder; that he would never be at peace until he reunited with his sister. He had rationalized his departure from the Bureau with the comfort of knowing that Samantha and her daughter would be kept safe. Had they just been kidding themselves in thinking that to be a satisfactory substitute for closure?

What pained her the most was that she had thought they had been happy. Of course, their lives were not perfect, but they loved one another and adored their boys, and were overjoyed with her pregnancy. They had everyday worries and concerns, like trying to get out the door in the morning to get to school and work on time. They had their parenting problems, like making sure that they gave their children the individual attention they craved, and settling sibling rivalry issues. But had Mulder's resentment been simmering beneath the surface all this time, and, if so, how had she not noticed?

She drifted off to sleep, stirring when she heard a knock at the door, and her stepson call out her name. After wiping her eyes, she told him the door was open and he entered the room, his eyes darting between his stepmother and the floor. "Are you okay?"

Scully stomach lurched upon the realization that all three boys most likely overheard their argument. "Just tired," she lied with a small smile, trying her best in metering her voice. "I thought you were going out with your dad."

"No, I have plans with Dave. It's still okay if he comes over, right?"

"Of course. Did your dad say when they were coming back?"

Kyle walked across the room to sit in his father's chair, signaling to his stepmother that he knew something had happened between his parents. "They went to his office to throw pencils at the ceiling. They took Dagoo. Bandit's sleeping—I think that dog tired him out at the park."

The teenager's face broke for a moment, and from the way he moved his mouth, Scully knew that he was upset. "Everything's fine, sweetie," she promised him. "Your dad's just having a bad day. So am I, for that matter. I'm not feeling that great."

He shook his head. "I heard what Grandma said to him. I saw them talking from my room, and I opened the window to listen. Dad doesn't know—he thinks I slept in."

Although she didn't want to pressure Kyle into sharing what he saw, her curiosity was piqued. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she assured him, resting her hands on her stomach.

"I want to," he shrugged, looking down at the floor. "Grandma said something about Aunt Samantha. And you know how Dad refuses to talk about her. It always puts him in a bad mood too."

"I'm not surprised," Scully confessed, rearranging the pillow behind her head. She closed her eyes, trying to will away her headache. Despite her best efforts, she was dehydrated, and she knew that all of the water in the world wouldn't help. "Kyle, you shouldn't have to worry about this. Your dad and I will talk when he gets back. Can you hand me the phone so I can get a hold of him? And if you could get me some bottled water, that would be great."

XXXXXXX

Spending time with his rambunctious children was always Mulder's best remedy for pulling himself out of a bad mood. He lay back on the shabby couch in his office, watching Nathan and Will stare at the ceiling with intense concentration. Dagoo was stretched out among the scattered pencils, his head lying atop his front paws. Mulder reached over for the handheld pencil sharpener sitting on the coffee table, fishing another number two from the shoebox next to him.

"This one broke, Daddy," Will reported, waving a pencil in the air.

"Let's trade, bullfrog," Mulder offered, swapping pencils with his youngest son.

"Daddy, I did it!" Nathan pointed up to the ceiling, where several pencils were precariously perched.

Mulder sat up, a smile spreading across his face. "Monkey! That's awesome. Great job!"

"Daddy?" Will asked, crawling onto the couch next to his father. "Is Mommy mad at Dagoo?"

He hadn't been prepared for the five-year-old's question. "No, Obi Will Kenobi. Dagoo hasn't done anything wrong. I should have told Mommy about Dagoo before she came home, so I messed up."

"Did you say I'm sorry?" Will asked.

"Actually, bullfrog, I don't think I did," Mulder admitted. "And that was very wrong of me. I owe Mommy an apology."

Will looked up at him in shock. "You need a time out. And say you're sorry."

"You are very smart, my jedi knight," Mulder told his son. "But I forgot to bring my phone, so I'll fix it as soon as we get home. I promise."

XXXXXXX

"Scully?" Mulder called out, throwing his keys on the counter before doubling back to hang them on the hook. He grabbed two juice boxes from the fridge, handing one to each boy. Bandit barreled towards them, wagging his tail in excitement upon seeing Dagoo. As Nathan ran to the cabinet where they kept the dog treats, Mulder told him, "Give them only one biscuit each, monkey. And make sure Dagoo gets some water. It was really hot out there, and we don't want him to get sick."

Hearing the television blaring, Mulder poked his head in the living room, where Kyle and his friend Dave were watching Lord of the Rings. "Is Dana upstairs?" he asked.

"She went out with my mom," answered Dave, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"She tried calling you but you left your phone here," Kyle added, not looking at his father. "And you didn't answer your work phone. She said to call her as soon as you got home. I think she was upset."

"She has every right to be."

He did not realize that he had been thinking out loud until he heard his son respond. "Well, you were an asshole."

"Daddy, Kyle said a bad word." Will tugged his father's grey t-shirt, his hazel eyes wide.

Mulder ruffled Will's hair. "Don't worry about it, bullfrog. I'll talk to your brother about it later. You go play with your puppies, and make sure Bandit shares some toys with Dagoo."

"Dagoo needs a special toy like how I have Doggy and Nathan has Woofy," Will decided. "And Bandit has his dragon."

He smiled at his son's thoughtfulness. "We'll get Dagoo something special soon. Go have fun with your pups."

Mulder picked up the cordless handset, hesitating while dialing Scully's cell phone number. Maybe she needed some more time to cool off—he knew he certainly did. He wanted to apologize for his behavior but still wanted to put off talking about what transpired with his mother, as he was still wrapping his head around their conversation. It was like every other time in which he knew he screwed up—he preferred to self-flagellate rather than to listen and look at the person he wronged.

Ultimately, though, it was imperative that he keep his promise to the boys, and immediately tell his partner he was sorry. Slowly, he re-dialed Scully's number, resisting the urge to disconnect the call. "Scull—Greta? Is Scully there? You're where? I'll be right there. I promise I'm leaving now."

Mulder absently placed the phone on the table, scouring the counter for his keys before realizing he had put them back where they belonged. He popped his head in the living room, telling Kyle and Dave that they needed to watch Will and Nathan.

XXXXXXX

Mulder's adrenaline rush lasted until he spotted Greta in the emergency room hallway, when he almost exploded in panic. "What the fuck happened? Where is she?"

"Mulder, relax," hissed Greta, pulling him towards a row of seats against the wall, away from the crowded group of visitors through which he had unceremoniously plowed. "They have her hooked up to an IV. She knew she was dehydrated and needed a drip, and she asked me for a ride when I dropped off Dave. She had tried calling you, but couldn't get through, and she didn't want to scare Kyle. She mentioned something about a fight, and that he was upset. So, we just told them we were going out. They didn't know it was to the hospital."

"Where is she?" Mulder repeated, running his trembling hands through his hair.

"She's down the hall in pod 4. The doctors kicked me out a few minutes ago. They wanted to examine her privately."

"The baby—"

"Mulder, Dana was dehydrated. It's been over 95 degrees for a week now," Greta explained, placing an arm on his shoulder. "She'll be okay. They both will."

Mulder slumped in his seat, burying his face in his hands. "Greta, I fucked up on so many levels today," he explained.

"So you'll talk to her about it," Greta advised. "And you'll apologize, and then you'll make up. But if you want to share anything juicy, I'm always up for some good gossip."

He stifled a laugh, appreciating his friend's effort to lighten the mood, and wondered whether Greta would have been as jocular if she had known more about that morning's events. Before he could answer, they were interrupted by a woman in scrubs. "You're with Dana Mulder, right?" she confirmed. "She's all set to see you."

XXXXXXX

Scully gave a small smile when she caught sight of her partner and friend; Mulder could tell that it probably took all of her energy to rouse her spirits for their sake. "I'm fine," she told them. "The baby's fine. I just need to go through a couple of more saline IVs before they release me. I should be good to go in a few hours."

Mulder breathed a sigh of relief, nodding wordlessly when Greta offered to go back to their house to hold down the fort, and Scully thanked her friend profusely. Once they were alone, Scully extended her hand, brushing it against his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Scully, for everything. For what I did, for what I said." Mulder choked up as he took in her sunken expression.

"Mulder," Scully began, her voice weak. "I don't know what happened with your mother, and I know you're still processing Langly's news. And I know that wasn't really you earlier today, but...You—the real you—wouldn't have—"

"What, Scully?" he asked patiently, sitting next to her, stretching across the bed to tuck her hair behind her ears.

"You walked out with the kids. That's what hurt the most. You told me I didn't want to handle them and you left." His face crumpled in confusion before quickly realizing how Scully had interpreted his actions. He had left her in that room in a blind rage, not thinking about what he was saying and how he was saying it. That, therein, lay their problem.

"And that's not really you, Mulder. I need to know what you discussed with your mother…because this can never happen again."

XXXXXXX

Scully insisted they talk, despite her exhaustion and ability to barely talk above a whisper. Mulder took it as a positive sign when she asked him to crawl into the bed next to her. He snaked his arm underneath her back, so it rested on her hip without disturbing her IVs.

As they spoke, Mulder was reminded of the law of unintended consequences. During their earlier argument, he had channeled his inner turmoil over his doubts about the decisions he had made involving his sister. Those feelings were further fueled by his need for his mother's approval and his fear of disappointing his loved ones. He knew he had screwed up by promising the boys Dagoo would stay, and in the heat of the moment, he figured he had nothing left to lose, and essentially gave up on his conversation with Scully. And that had been his first mistake. It took hearing his partner repeat what he had said, word for word, to realize how callous he had sounded. He had no idea how his storming out of the house, kids in tow, could have been perceived by his partner.

"I don't have any good answers to these questions," Mulder admitted, pressing a kiss against her head. "I don't want to be that person who flies off the handle like that, Scully. I have too much to lose."

Scully shifted, untangling the IV lines dangling from her forearm. "You're going to need to make a decision, Mulder, about Samantha. You said you would walk away, and now it's just another version of the same old cat-and-mouse game. And it's not working in our favor, especially when it sends you into a tailspin. Wait and see what the Gunmen dig up at Marita's hospital, and then make your decision. I love you, and I never wanted to make you choose between us and your quest, but I'm not subjecting our children to another episode like this. They deserve better. And you deserve to be happy with whatever decision you make. You need closure, Mulder." She threaded her hand into Mulder's and stared blankly at the curtain in front of them, the thin veil of privacy afforded to them by the hospital, before finally falling asleep.

XXXXXXX

Usually, Nathan only woke up early on his birthday and Christmas, but the allure of searching for Bigfoot was strong enough for him to be up at dawn, even without any prospect of presents. He and Will marched into their parents' room with their backpacks on, imploring their father that they leave for their trip right then and there. "We can't set up camp until after lunch," Mulder sleepily reminded them, not bothering to open his eyes as his sons shook him awake.

"And if you want to stay up late tonight, you're going to need extra sleep now."

"It's not fair."

"It never is," Mulder mumbled, burying his face in his partner's hair.

"We have to wear bright colors 'cuz you might get lost, right?" chirped Will. "All of us, Daddy?"

Scully stifled a laugh into her pillow, trying to steady her shaking shoulders. "You all must wear bright colors," Mulder groggily confirmed. "And I've never been lost in my life. Now go back to bed or I'll cancel the trip."

She turned around, taking in the sight of her sleeping partner. She knew he was exhausted, not only from their previous evening's nocturnal activity but from chasing after the three boys—not to mention the dogs—nonstop for the past two weeks. Mulder had taken them to countless museums, historical sites, parks, pools, and even one ill-fated trip to the Bureau. But Scully knew, despite it all, he loved spending the weeks between school and camp with them.

"Like what you see, Agent?" He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he spoke.

She smiled, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind his ear. "Always, professor," she responded, leaning over to give him a kiss. "Feel like pancakes? Or waffles?"

"There are other things I would rather have for breakfast than food."

"Hmm. Hungry for anything in particular?"

XXXXXX

Despite having initially woken up over an hour before her alarm, Scully was running late, although she had no complaints. While she had been trying to regain her energy and strength during the days following her ER visit, Mulder had been spooked by the incident, reluctant to engage in any physical contact. She had finally convinced him otherwise three days earlier, and they were both eager to make up for lost time.

"I forgot to tell you, Scully," Mulder said, his hands resting on either side of her, pressed against the bathroom sink as she brushed her teeth. "The Gunmen ended up finding some sort of surveillance device in Marita's room. They can't make heads or tails of it, and I'm going to pick it up this morning, see if Charlie can help as a measure of last resort—"

"Mommy?! Daddy?!"

Scully spat out the toothpaste left in her mouth, abandoning her brush in the sink; that particular inflection in Will's voice meant trouble. He needed his parents, but not because he was sick or hurt—he was in over his head, and most likely, made a mess to boot. She joined Mulder and Will in the bedroom, taken aback by the garish orange t-shirt and red board shorts Will wore.

"What's all over your hands?" Mulder asked his youngest son.

"Nothing."

"Well, I think it's something." Mulder held up Will's elbows, trying in vain to identify the sticky substance covering the five-year-old's hands, wrists, and forearms.

"What did you want to ask us, sweetie?" Scully asked.

"How long is thirty minutes? Is it one Rugrats or two? I forgot." The innocence in Will's voice did not fool his parents, who looked at one another, trying to determine exactly what their son had been up to.

"Why?" Scully's voice was soon drowned out by barking. "Where are Bandit and Dagoo?"

"In the bathroom. But you can't open the door for thirty minutes."

"Where's Nathan?" Mulder asked.

"In the bathroom. But you can't open the door—"

"For thirty minutes?" Scully finished, trying to speed up the story.

"Yup," nodded Will in earnest.

"Why?" Somehow Mulder found the patience to ask his question gently, knowing Will's tendency to clam up when he sensed anger in someone's voice.

"Cuz you said we all have to wear bright colors."

XXXXXX

Scully hung up the phone with a sigh. Knowing that Kersh's assistant wouldn't buy an excuse of my children dyed the dogs' fur, she instead explained she was having car trouble, and would be at work as soon as possible.

She folded her arms in front of her, staring at Bandit, who was now covered in bright green patches, and Dagoo, who was similarly doused in purple. Nathan and Will were sitting at the table, eating their breakfast while their parents interrogated them as to the hows and whys of their latest escapade.

The difficulty lay in Nathan's foolproof kid-logic. "But you said we all had to wear bright colors. And Bandit and Dagoo are part of our family. We don't want you to get lost, Daddy."

"Where did you get the hair dye?" Scully asked while Mulder rolled his eyes in frustration over the children's insistence that he would get lost in the woods.

"It was in that bag over there." Will pointed to the front hall.

Curious, Scully walked out of the room, returning with the aforementioned tote bag. Fumbling through its contents, she found a couple of CDs, a few magazines, a copy of the most recent Harry Potter novel, and a bottle of Manic Panic. She wracked her brain, trying to come up with a possible owner when she remembered Kyle's friend Natalie had babysat the boys earlier in the week. Unable to find a name attached to the bag or its contents, Scully knew she couldn't fault the boys completely for pilfering through someone else's stuff.

"We need to clean up the bathroom before we can leave," Mulder told the boys. "And we need to stop by the Lone Gunmen's place so I can pick something up. If we want to get to the forest by two, we're going to have to work hard. And once we're on the Vineyard, we're going to talk about your punishment."

While Mulder led the cleanup efforts, Scully double-checked backpacks. Despite having supervised their packing the night before, both the younger boys had managed to completely disassemble—and attempt to restuff—the contents of their knapsacks. While the back of the SUV was filled with what they would need for their ten day stay on the Vineyard, the children had separately packed two days' worth of clothes and some other items for their camping trip.

"But I thought you forgot my toothbrush," Nathan pointed out after he saw his mother arch her eyebrow in his direction.

"Nice try, monkey, but I see four Transformers," Scully said, holding up the toys. "You won't need them. Keep them in the car."

"But, but—what if Daddy wants me to have quiet time?"

"Nathan, you can bring three toys with you camping, that's it," Scully reminded him. "Plus Woofy. So, will it be three Transformers, or two Transformers and Darth Vader?"

She tried to hide her exasperation, knowing full well that Nathan would most likely stuff additional items into his bag as soon as she left for work. "You don't want to lose them camping."

That reminder made Nathan take pause. "But I won't," he promised.

As always, the six-year-old was full of good intentions; however, as much as he never planned on losing, breaking, spilling, or forgetting, these things tended to happen to him, just as they did his father. "You have lots of important stuff in here, monkey." Scully carefully repacked the bag. "You have your flashlight, and your compass, and your disposable camera. You'll be so busy you won't have too much time to play with your toys."

"Do you think Bigfoot will want to play with us? We need to have enough toys for him."

"I don't know, monkey. Bigfoot seems to be kind of a shy guy. But if he were to ever play with humans, I'm betting he would pick you and your brothers."

"And Daddy."

"And Daddy."

Once again, Scully found herself wondering how Mulder intended to pull off a Bigfoot sighting. He had been steadfast in his refusal to share his plan, despite her best efforts to learn the truth. Mulder had caught on to her each and every attempt to find out exactly what he had in store for the trip. "You are going to have so much fun, monkey. I can't wait to hear all about it on Friday."

XXXXXX

Mulder had specifically selected a campsite that was three miles from the park entrance; it would be a challenging but not insurmountable hike for the younger boys, and would afford them the ability to quickly get to the car in case of an emergency. Mulder was still unsure as to whether a two-night trip would be too much for them, and this backup plan afforded him peace of mind. "Don't go too far, guys. Make sure you can still see us," Mulder called out to Nathan and Will. While he could keep track of them thanks to their rather red, orange, and green clothing, he didn't want them to wander too much away from camp.

Bandit and Dagoo dutifully trotted towards the younger boys while Mulder turned his attention to the tent he and Kyle were trying to set up. "So do you need me to set up anything else?" Kyle asked, keeping his voice low.

"What do you mean?" Mulder knew his deadpan response would drive his son crazy.

"Well, what's the plan?"

"There is no plan other than to search for Bigfoot," Mulder stuck with playing dumb, unable to resist a smug smirk. "So stop asking me and enjoy yourself. Don't let this stress you out."

The teenager looked at his father skeptically, letting out a frustrated sigh, and returned his attention to their task. Although there was no blood relationship between them, Mulder had been finding that Kyle's mannerisms mimicked those of his stepmother, especially when he was particularly exasperated. He wondered whether anyone else had noticed; it was something only a handful of people would really pick up on, and he made a mental note to ask his brother-in-law when they arrived on the Vineyard.

Mulder called out to the younger boys, who he noticed were beginning to wander a bit too far for his liking. "Nathan! Will! It's time for you guys to do your thing!"

Will and Nathan had been eager to help with camping chores, but their father and older brother had found them to be too much underfoot when setting up their tent. "Will, I need you to make sure we have everything we need to make food later, and Nathan, you need to make sure we have all of our first aid supplies."

A burst of giggling distracted Mulder from kicking the last stake into the ground. Once he was certain that the tent was as sturdy as possible, he walked over to where the boys were making their inventories. "What's so funny?" Mulder asked as casually as he could. Peering onto the ground, he saw a few boxes of Oreos and candy bars.

"I got us cookies 'cuz Mommy isn't here," Will announced, his hazel eyes gleaming.

"So what did you take out of the food bag?" Mulder gently asked.

"Oranges and apples," supplied Nathan.

The boys looked proud of themselves, and Mulder had to admit that they were too clever for their own good. They had been particularly mischievous since the announcement of a new sibling, and Mulder wondered how much of this behavior had been intentional rather than impulsive. "Guys—we have rules even when Mommy isn't around." One of the consequences of the Dagoo fiasco had been the boys testing their boundaries when it came to their behavior when their mother was not present, and Mulder was finding it difficult to set them straight.

"Don't worry, I brought them," Kyle announced from the log he sat on a few feet away, disinterested in the proceedings before him. "They're in my bag."

"You're no fun," Nathan pouted.

"You're a brat."

"Okay, stop it," Mulder warned his sons after the first choruses of I-hate-yous filled the air. "Nathan, Will, is there anything else you want to tell me before I find out otherwise? You're skating on thin ice, my friends. That was strike two. And I would hate to make us pack up and spend the night at Grandma's. She's only about an hour away."

The two boys looked at one another, trying to remember what else they may have done—or undone as the case might be. "You forgot the rope so I brought it."

"The rope for what, monkey?" Mulder asked, massaging his temple.

"To put the food in the tree so the bears won't get it," Nathan explained. "That's what your camping book said."

"There are no bears here," Kyle grumpily intoned.

"Yes, there are bears." Will sounded particularly adamant on that point.

"Okay, we'll put the food in the tree overnight, just in case," Mulder promised. "But did you take out anything else that we packed?"

Both boys shook their heads.

"When are we going to find Bigfoot?" Nathan's impatience was obvious.

"When you stop misbehaving. Every time you get up to mischief, monkey, it takes us longer to do things."

XXXXXX

The crackling fire was beginning to die, and Mulder contemplated whether to rekindle the flames. Nathan and Will were fast asleep inside the tent, down for the count as soon as their heads hit their pillows, the dogs between them. They took their Bigfoot reconnaissance mission seriously, and Mulder was proud as to how they remembered the hows and whys of every step in the process. He loved watching his sons light up with excitement and understanding, each in their own way, as they followed the map and made their markings.

Even as small children, the three boys had distinctive personalities, and watching them evolve was a source of utter joy. Mulder wondered whether, when they were younger, he had imagined them as their present selves. Nathan had always been the most outgoing, completely fearless when it came to expressing himself. While his brothers were both more reserved, Will was quickly catching up to him in the precociousness department. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with and had the tendency to get into scrapes. Taking after their father, the havoc they wreaked was out of curiosity—and silliness—and rarely, if ever, mean-spirited. They were rather clueless about the chaos they created, and Mulder hoped they would soon acquire their mother's common sense.

Looking at the stars, Mulder wondered how much of Will and Nathan's personalities were shaped by growing up with a sibling so close in age. He couldn't imagine, however, Kyle being any different than he was: cool, calm, and collected. The baby too, would be growing up without a brother or sister of similar age, and Mulder was curious about the future dynamics among the children with a baby in the mix.

As much as he was excited and overjoyed about their new arrival, Mulder was concerned about its effect on the boys. Once they returned home after their vacation on the Vineyard, the baby talk would begin in earnest, so he and Scully were determined to make sure the kids would not feel as though they were lost in the shuffle. While they planned to involve the boys as much as possible, they were also trying to anticipate how they would react to all the changes they would experience

"I wish we had the telescope with us."

Mulder snapped to attention upon hearing Kyle's voice. The teenager had little to say to him since the day his grandmother had dropped off Dagoo, only instigating conversation a handful of times. Mulder didn't know how to apologize without having to explain all the related complications; Scully had encouraged him to keep it simple, hinting that his son wouldn't necessarily press for details. "Just acknowledge you had a bad day and made some mistakes." For Mulder, it was advice easier said than done.

"It would," Mulder agreed. "Are you having fun here? You can be honest."

"Yeah, I guess," Kyle shrugged.

Mulder leaned over to poke the fire. "In that case, can you let me be honest about something?"

Figuring that no response was a silent assent, Mulder set down his stick. "I'm sorry for the way I acted a couple of weeks ago," he started. "I had a disagreement with your grandmother, and afterwards, I didn't handle it well."

The teenager snorted. "That's an understatement."

"Kyle, I'm trying to be honest with you." Mulder hoped he was able to hide his aggravation.

"But you weren't there afterwards. You just left and Mom pretended she hadn't been crying. Do you know how much that sucks?"

The very notion that he had emulated his own father made Mulder felt sick to his stomach; he had never thought about his actions in those terms. "I promised Dana it wouldn't happen again, and I'm making that same promise to you right now. You, your brothers, Dana—you are the most important people in the world to me."

"Whatever," Kyle muttered. "You just never get it, Dad."

"So explain it to me."

Kyle accepted his father's challenge. "It's like you are two different people, Dad. Sometimes, you get into these bad moods and you just don't care about how you affect everyone else. Like how you were this winter, or whenever Aunt Samantha is mentioned. I know you and Grandma were talking about her, and then you were a complete jerk the rest of the day. And then you turn around and do the whole super dad thing, like this camping trip. Just pick one and stick with it."

"Kyle, things are complicated right now, and I'm trying. I don't know what else to say." Mulder watched as his son disappear wordlessly into the tent, leaving him alone.

XXXXXX

"Do you guys remember when Bigfoot usually appears?" Mulder asked the kids after they finished lunch the next day. They had spent the morning exploring, taking advantage of the pleasant weather. The sky was becoming overcast and cloudy, prime Bigfoot sighting weather.

"When it's almost dark time," Nathan answered.

"Or when it's rainy," offered Will. "Like now."

"Right. So, what we're going to do is split into teams," Mulder said, unfolding the map on the ground, pointing to a spot they had marked the previous day. "Me and Nathan and Dagoo will go here, on this side of the clearing by the big boulder, and Will, you and Kyle and Bandit will go on the other end, by the stream. Do all of you have your cameras and compasses? Flashlights?"

Kyle relaxed upon realizing he would be spending the rest of the afternoon with Will; he needed a break from his father and Nathan. When the group split, he led Will down the trail. They had a half-mile walk to the stream, and he hoped his younger brother would be able to keep up. "We'll see Bigfoot, right?"

Sensing the nervousness in his little brother's voice, Kyle made sure he sounded overly confident. "Of course. We did all this work yesterday, so we'll definitely see him. Don't worry, just pay attention."

Once they reached the halfway point to the stream, Kyle suggested that they rest for a moment. Since he had shared his interest in medicine with his stepmother, Dana had been teaching him first aid and some other basics in medical treatment; she had even supervised him suturing banana peels. He had taken it upon himself to make sure no one became dehydrated or too hungry; his brothers sometimes forgot to eat when they became excited. "Drink some water. And here's a granola bar."

Will munched on his granola bar before dropping it onto the ground, his hazel eyes wide. "K—K—K—," Will stammered, pointing to something a few feet to Kyle's left.

Kyle whipped around, catching a rustling by the trees behind him. "Did you see him?" the teenager asked, a chill running down his neck, while Bandit barked, stepping between his boy and the trees in front of them.

"Not Bigfoot. A bear," Will insisted.

"There aren't any bears in this forest," Kyle explained for the zillionth time.

"I. Saw. A. Bear."

Kyle let out a sigh. "Okay, so what did it look like?" he asked. "Was it a big bear or a little bear?"

"It was a baby bear cub."

"Baby bears usually stick close to their parents." Kyle spoke with confidence, hoping that his brother would not catch onto the fact he was just saying the first thing that came to mind. The five-year-old had an incredibly vivid imagination, and Kyle knew that the easiest way to deal him would be to play along and sound decisive. It actually surprised him that it took twenty-four hours of being in the woods before Will announced he had seen a bear; on the other hand, the almost first-grader had reported sightings of almost every other animal out there, including a lion and a gorilla. "And we didn't see any big bears."

"So he was lost?" Will's eyes welled up.

"Don't worry about it. You probably saw something else."

"But what if he's hungry?" Will asked, worried. "And he can't find his mommy or daddy?"

"After we find Bigfoot, we'll come back here and pour some honey on the rock, so he can have a snack."

Will nodded emphatically. "But what if he's really, really hungry?"

"We're not supposed to feed the animals, Will. But since honey is something you can find in a forest, I think it's okay if we leave him some. But that's it."

Satisfied with his brother's compromise, Will nodded, and they continued on their hike. "I think I found something." Kyle pointed to a half-eaten patch of berries, taking a picture at his brother's request.

"Footprints!" Will jumped up and down. "And they're really really big!"

"Jump over there," the teenager instructed. "So you don't step on them. Wait, why don't you take the photo instead?"

After his brother handed him back the camera, Kyle snuck in a quick picture when he wasn't looking, just in case Will's photography habits were less than adequate. It was beginning to lightly rain by the time they reached the brook, and they pulled up their hoods as they crouched behind a large tree. Kyle helped his brother scramble up a stump to get a better view of the clearing. "What if Bigfoot eats the baby bear cub?" Will asked.

"Bigfoots don't eat bears. We went through this in the car, Will."

"What if Bigfoot eats the bear's honey?"

"Let's not worry about it," Kyle sighed. "We need to be quiet and pay attention."

A few moments later, both brothers gasped as they saw a huge creature loom into view. Bandit's tail began to wag, and he let out a growl. Kyle fumbled for the camera, and began taking photos. Just as the figure was walking out of sight, Will shouted out, "Hi Bigfoot!" while furiously waving in the creature's direction. The creature stopped, and slowly stood around, raising its giant hand in return. Putting a finger to its lips, it continued on its way.

The boys looked at one another, both in shock. "Bigfoot waved to me!" Will exclaimed.

They practically ran back to the campsite, Will falling down after tripping over a tree root. Instead of crying, he picked himself up and kept going. They were the first ones back at camp, and huddled together on a log by the campfire, ignoring the rain.

"Daddy!" Will jumped up and ran to hug his father.

"You guys saw him, right?" Mulder called out. "Wasn't that awesome?"

"He was so big!" Nathan added. "And furry! And Daddy let me take the pictures."

They set about preparing dinner, talking about Bigfoot and the other evidence they found. While Kyle and Will had found footprints and torn up berry patches, Mulder and Nathan had found, much to their delight, poop.

"Oh, no, Kyle, we need to go and feed the baby bear cub!"

"The what?" Mulder asked.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Will saw a bear." He carefully enunciated each word, signaling to his father that no such bear existed.

"A baby bear cub!" corrected the five-year-old, stomping his foot.

Nathan cringed. "I want to see a bear too!"

After finishing dinner, Mulder put out the fire, promising the boys they would relight it later in order to make s'mores. At his insistence, they hiked to the nearest ranger station, where Will once again explained that he saw a baby bear cub. The ranger suggested Kyle and Will lead them to the scene of the sighting. "There's no way," the ranger quietly said to Mulder as they hiked. "But I would hate to disappoint their kids."

XXXXX

Scully relished in the freedom of only having a tote bag as a carryon, disembarking the plane with ease, grateful to not have to fumble with the overhead compartments or to be forced to wait in baggage claim. It was definitely worth the minor inconvenience of having to pack a few days early, so Mulder could stick her suitcase in the car for his drive up the East Coast.

Walking through the passenger pickup area, Scully waited expectantly for Mulder. She knew the kids would be loath to leave their cousins during their first afternoon on the Vineyard, and when she had briefly talked to him that afternoon, he had suggested that they grab an early dinner, just the two of them. As much as she wanted to hug her boys and hear about their trip, she yearned for some time alone with her partner.

"Don't look so fucking disappointed, Danes."

Scully whipped around, catching sight of her grinning sister-in-law, who uncharacteristically held out her arms for a hug. "I thought if I picked you up myself, it would save you from being arrested for public indecency," she half-joked. "I swear, that husband-partner—whatever you call him—of yours, is climbing the walls the right now. Well, the walls of a sandcastle, to be more precise."

While she usually enjoyed carving out some one-on-one time with her sister-in-law, Scully wished that she at least had a few moments with her partner and children first. Despite being fully aware of this, Karen had characteristically moved forward with her plan, going so far as to pack up their husbands and kids to an outdoor screening of Jurassic Park. "You know I can't read you very well when you're with Mulder," she explained. "And I need to know how you are doing, from your own mouth, even more so after I saw that other dog."

Within moments, Scully's annoyance dissipated, and she soon found herself unable to stop from talking, the words tumbling out of her. Karen always had the ability to tear down her defenses, a skill honed during the early stages of their fifteen-year kinship.

Despite the fact they were not blood relations, and had not met until they were in college, Karen was the person who understood her childhood the best, having an outside—yet insightful—perspective of everything she had been told over the years by her husband and sister-in-law. Charlie often masked his feelings with humor, making difficult on occasion to discuss something from the past; in those instances, Karen would be the one who would offer any assurances Scully needed.

"Can you let me come and help you for a week or two? After the baby arrives? I know you have friends in DC, but you might want family too. At least for me, friends and family were different. You don't have to decide now, and you can always change your mind later. But I want you to know that I'm here."

Scully unexpectedly felt herself choke up. Determined not to cry, she nodded, turning her head to look at the path that led to the beach. "Danes," Karen continued. "It's an open offer. If you ever need help, all you need to say is fly down now. I'll be there in a heartbeat. And not just to help out with the baby. I can take the boys home with me too. They might need a break themselves, especially if the baby is colicky or cries all night."

What Karen left unsaid was that she was essentially Scully's only female family: mother, sister, sister-in-law, all rolled into one. For the first year of their estrangement, Scully had been too busy to think much about her mother. Her priority had been her children, and the accompanying anxieties that came with transitioning into parenthood. She even managed to make her mother only a peripheral figure in her investigation of her parents' complicated past, focusing her efforts on her father's career and relationship with Marita's mother.

Six months after their final conversation, she had received a box of handmade Christmas stockings from her mother. While a part of her was slightly unnerved by the fact her mother had known the boys' names, she had been touched by the gesture. She wondered whether her mother had intended the gift as a gesture of reconciliation, but not enough to ask. While a part of her would like to have thought she had been stoic in her resolve not to be drawn into familial melodrama, a larger part considered her a coward.

Instead, as she bumbled through parenthood, Scully focused on the good—how she had found an incredible support system in her friends, brother, and sister-in-law, and even Mulder's mother, on occasion. Trusting these people had not come easy, but she was proud of the circle her family had formed.

"Thank you," Scully managed to say, deepening her breath to maintain her composure. "You offering to do that—it means the world to me."

"You've done the same for us," Karen reminded her. "Many times over."

Scully stared out into the darkening backyard, shoring up the courage to make her next request. "Karen, I need to say this—"

"Dana, you don't have to," Karen stopped her. "You know the answer is yes."

Scully wiped the tears from her eye, looking down at the planks beneath her feet. "I don't want anything to happen," she insisted. "I just need to know you'll take care of them. I need the peace of mind of knowing that I asked you."

"Dana, nothing is going to happen to you. But I understand why you had to ask. Hell, I did the same with you, twice over," Karen continued softly. "If anything were to happen with me or Charlie, I would want the boys with you and Mulder instead of anyone on my family."

"We ask because we love them."

XXXXX

She could hear them well before she could see them. Nathan, unsurprisingly, was the loudest, with his cousin Noah not too far behind him in the noise department. "You need to get ready for bed!" she heard her brother tell the kids, who protested loudly in return. No one seemed to ever take Charlie-the-disciplinarian seriously.

"Monkey!" Scully called out, desperate to see at least one member of her family.

"Mommy, mommy!" Nathan flew up the stairs to the deck, looking around for her. "We had so much fun!"

"I want to hear all about Bigfoot," Scully said as she gave him a fierce hug.

"Not 'til we have our evidence." The six-year-old sounded well beyond his years. Scully also caught an underlying whine in his voice that indicated he was starting to get overtired. "Do I have to go to bed?"

"Yes you do, monkey. Why don't you get washed up and I'll tuck you in, deal?"

Wondering where her partner and other children were, Scully moved to get up from her seat when she caught Mulder's outline slowly ascending the stairs to the deck. Closing the gap between them, she saw that he had a sleeping Will slung over one shoulder. He bent down to kiss her in greeting. "Hi Bullfrog," Scully whispered, brushing back the stubborn lock of hair that fell over his eyes.

Through the light in the kitchen behind her, Scully could see that her youngest son was positively filthy. "What happened?" she asked.

"Rolling down a grassy hill waiting for the movie to start. Plus, sand, and mud from when his juice box fell over in the dirt, probably some grime from camping too. He's had a busy day." She could detect a hint of pride in her partner's voice.

"We're going to need to give him a bath. We can't put him into bed like this."

"Even I think he needs a bath, Scully."

Will's eyes fluttered open. "I saw Bigfoot, Mommy," he told her before closing them again.

"You sure did, Pigpen," Mulder agreed, adjusting his grip on the boy.

"I'm not a pig. I'm a bullfrog."

Scully bit her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. She rubbed Will's back until he fell back asleep, using his father's shoulder as a pillow.

XXXXX

"We don't have too many of these nights anymore," Mulder remarked fifteen minutes later as they carefully sat Will in the tub. Scully wrinkled her nose at the darkening water, wondering why she was surprised; Will always managed to get messy, even as a baby. "Good thing we're getting in some practice when we can."

Mulder awkwardly held a half-sleeping Will while Scully did her best to quickly wash away the grime and dirt caked all over him. "At least he doesn't fight it like Nathan," Scully remarked as she squeezed some shampoo out of the bottle. She recalled memories of the boys as toddlers, when she would stick them in the tub together, one son always trying to express his displeasure, and the other overly excited about being in the water. Will had always been their water baby, always happy to spend time playing with his bath toys.

Scully looked up at her partner, realizing he was thinking similar thoughts when he said, "Obi Will Kenobi here is too tired for splash-splashes tonight."

"No, I'm not."

Being the youngest, Will always found a challenge in others' statements, even when none was intended. He shored up the energy to fiercely kick his legs, and Scully suddenly found herself drenched in water. Wiping her hair away from her face, she saw both father and son laughing hysterically. "Good job, Will," Mulder said to his yawning son. "But I think we better get you into bed right now, bullfrog."

"You'll always win a wet t-shirt contest in my book," Mulder said to his partner while helping Will into his pajamas.

"That's very reassuring, Mulder," Scully responded, rolling her eyes as she searched for dry towels, pleased to see that there were plenty stocked in the cupboard. There could never be enough on hand, especially when Charlie's family visited. Between stocking the bathrooms and several trips per day to the beach, the washing machine and dryers were constantly running.

"I'll clean up," offered Mulder. "You go tuck them in."

Scully slipped into the boys' room, where Charlie was softly reading a ghost story. Considering Will's snoring, there was no chance he would be able to wake up the five-year-old. Despite their freshly made beds, Nathan and Noah were spread out on the floor with blankets and sleeping bags, determined not to fall asleep before their tale was finished. They ignored her whispers of goodnight and sweet dreams, barely reacting to the kisses she pressed to the tops of their heads. She wistfully stood at the entryway to their room, remembering how the boys would prolong their bedtime routine, wanting their parents to linger with them until they fell into a deep sleep.

Scully wandered in search of Kyle and Peter, and by the time she finished her conversation with them, Mulder was sitting on the Adirondack chair squeezed onto the small porch off their bedroom. He smiled when he caught sight of her, extending his arm to pull her towards him. She sat on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. "I've missed you. I'm sorry about the airport."

"I'm sure Karen didn't give you much choice. It sounds like you had a successful camping trip."

Mulder sighed, picking up a sunflower seed from the bag sitting on the planked floor. "Three-quarters successful. Kyle's angry. Listening to him, Scully, it sounded like me describing my father when I was his age. And that scares the hell out of me."

She began to massage his neck. "There is so much he doesn't know, Mulder. Do you think we need to share at least some of what's been going on with him?"

He stiffened. "Think about it, Mulder. We'll talk to him together."

"You and Karen have a good time?"

"Uh-huh," Scully told him, drawing a pattern on his stomach, the pads of her fingers pressing against him. "We had a good talk. She wanted me to know that she's there if I need anything and that she knows I miss my mother."

Mulder blinked. "I'm fine, Mulder," Scully promised him, her voice low. "She's right, I do miss her. But not enough to be immersed in all the drama. It just wouldn't be healthy for any of us right now."

"Do you want to—"

"Not tonight, Mulder," she softly admonished him. "No ghosts. I want to hear about your trip."

"Nice try," Mulder retorted, playing with her hair. "Not until we get the pictures back tomorrow. Then, you will find out about it the same time as everyone else."

Before she could respond, her eyes widened. "What's wrong?" Mulder asked, concerned.

She shook her head, picking up his hand, holding it against her stomach.

"Is that—"

Scully nodded. "This is the strongest it's been," she told him with a smile.

Mulder wasn't sure how to describe the physical sensation of the fluttering against Scully's middle, except that it was an overwhelming reminder that there would be a baby in a few short months. "I was thinking earlier today that we haven't discussed—"

"Baby names?" Scully's right eyebrow arched.

Mulder nodded. "I have a proposition."

"And I'm intrigued."

"I don't want this baby to be weighed down by the past. What if we made sure not to name him or her after anyone? And instead give them their own name, one that has a different kind of meaning to us?"

"I like it," she smiled. "In fact, I bought a baby name book, which arrived in the same Amazon package as something that I believe you ordered."

"It came? Did you bring it?"

Scully was taken aback by Mulder's excitement. Mulder practically dumped her off his lap to search for the books "I did. And I made sure to leave it on the top of my bag to give airport security something to talk about," she wryly added.

"Did you read it yet? My book?" Mulder held it up triumphantly, throwing the tote bag back on the floor, scattering its contents around him.

Scully rolled her eyes. "Mulder, I draw the line at reading illustrated sex books in public, with small children or grandparents milling about. So, the answer is no, I did not read your book."

"Did you at least look at the pictures?" He sounded as though anyone in their right mind would have dropped everything once the book came into their possession.

"Hmm. I can't remember. You might have to jog my memory." That answer certainly got his attention, Scully observed, as she leaned over to kiss him.

XXXXX

Will scampered across the bed, crawling his way underneath the blanket between his parents. While it was later than his usual wake-up time, it was still too early for either his mother or father to surrender their extra sleep in favor of beginning their morning routines. "I saw Bigfoot, Mommy!" Will stage-whispered, clearly unable to remember their conversation the night before. Scully was unsurprised; the five-year-old had been utterly exhausted.

"You did? Can you tell me all about it?" Scully asked, smoothing down his bedhead.

"Don't fall for it, Will," Mulder reminded him, tickling the five-year-old's stomach and drawing him flush against his chest.

"Can you tell me anything?" Scully asked. "Can you give me at least a little hint, bullfrog?"

"No," Will protested, shaking his head, a wide smile spread across his lips.

"I think there is something you can tell her," Mulder pointed out before saying something into Will's ear.

Scully watched father-and-son whisper back-and-forth with one another. "Daddy said I can tell you now 'cuz you're not being patient. But it's okay 'cuz we love you."

"How am I not being patient?"

"'Cuz…" Will looked up at his father for guidance, listening carefully to what his father whispered in her ear. "'Cuz You're staring at Daddy like that."

"Why don't we be nice to Mommy and tell her the other news," interrupted Mulder before Will could get them both into too much trouble.

"We decided what animal the baby is," Will announced with an air of triumph. "But Daddy, what if Mommy doesn't like it?"

"She'll love it, I promise," Mulder reassured him, grazing his lips above Will's head.

Will drew a deep breath. "Okay, Mommy, the baby is a baby bear cub!"

Scully broke out into a huge smile. "That's perfect, bullfrog. Why did you and your brothers pick a bear?"

"A baby bear cub," Will solemnly corrected his mother. "Cuz we helped a baby bear cub who got lost in the forest."

Scully's heart skipped a beat. "You saw a baby bear?"

"We saw the mommy bear and the baby bears—baby bear cubs on the highway, when we were leaving the forest. Will got to use the forest ranger's binoculars to get a good look," Mulder explained.

"But I saw the baby bear cub in the forest too," Will insisted, his mother exchanging a nervous glance with his father. "And me and Kyle left some honey on a rock for him to eat 'cuz he was hungry. But nobody believes me. I didn't make it up, I promise. No egg-zadurating."

A pair of hazel puppy dog eyes stared up at Scully. She knew there would be no way Will would ever back down from his claim.

"Bullfrog, if we leave now and if we're really quiet, we'll be able to go down to the beach before breakfast, just you and me," Mulder suggested. "That way we can practice what we're going to say during our presentation without Mommy trying to listen in on us."

"Can we get the pictures now?"

"They won't be ready until noon. Meet me downstairs, buddy. Remember, be quiet. And close the door."

They didn't speak until they heard the door shut and Will's footsteps on the stairs. "There's no way he really saw a bear, Scully. I checked it out with the ranger. There was no evidence of any bears near our campsite."

"But you saw them on the road."

"The rangers were tracking them from the northeast corner of the park. We weren't anywhere remotely near there. We must have driven fifteen, twenty minutes before we came across the roadblock. Will was overexcited and just thought he saw a bear," answered Mulder, reaching over to interlace his hand with Scully's. "By the way, he also saw a lion and a gorilla. You know I would have packed them up and gotten the hell out of there if I ever thought it was possible."

"I'm not doubting you on that count, Mulder," Scully assured him. "I'm just thinking that the expression on Will's face when he was insisting he saw a bear—"

"A baby bear cub, Scully. I thought you were paying attention," teased Mulder, prompting his partner to laugh.

"He looked just like you," she finished. "That look was pure Mulder. I loved it."

XXXXX

The table rattled with a thump, causing Scully to look up at her sister-in-law, who had casually thrown a hefty stack of magazines in her direction. Karen had promised her the previous day that she had ideas on how to set up and decorate the nursery, and she certainly wasn't wasting any time. True to form, Karen immediately launched into conversation, and Scully inwardly cringed, looking at the children settled around the table. She and Mulder had wanted to keep the baby-talk at a minimum, at least while they were on vacation. It had been a fool's promise, considering Karen's dual enthusiasm about her interior design work and their new addition.

"You are going to need to keep the guest room bed in the nursery, at least for the first few months. If someone is up with the baby in your bedroom at night, the other is going to need to sleep," Karen recommended, opening to a page of the magazine flagged with a fluorescent post-it note. "So you need to decorate around the furniture's functionality."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Charlie moaned, pushing himself away from the table. "Can you at least wait until we finish lunch? We don't all have to hear about the pillows and the cushions and the—"

"Charlie, you're finished with lunch. You have nothing on your plate, so feel free to leave."

"I have these!" He held up two thin pieces of crust.

"Only because you are perpetual six-year-old picky eater."

"I'm not a picky eater!" Nathan insisted from across the table. "And I'm six."

"Not everything is about you, sweetie," Karen breezily retorted, her head buried in her magazine. "Your uncle has you beat there, all things considered. He's just mad because his new boss is making him work over vacation. And by the way, Charlie, cushions and pillows are the same things."

"If my new boss hadn't practically doubled my salary, I would have quit," Charlie muttered. "We had this Department of Defense security contract deadline due two weeks ago, and for some reason, my team ended up getting pulled into this other project. Everyone was working twenty hour days for weeks. Hopefully, they'll sign off on the work during this damn conference call this afternoon."

"Speaking of work, do you mind taking a look at something for me? It comes courtesy of our friends the Lone Gunmen. They haven't seen anything like it, and would love your expertise," Mulder asked his brother-in-law. "No offense, Charlie, but this is a measure of last resort. They argued about whether to even bring you in on this, just because it's a matter of a very sensitive nature."

"Sure, what is it?" Charlie asked. "Anything for Langly and Byers. I won't ask any questions."

Mulder ran into the kitchen before returning with a padded envelope. "They think it's some sort of surveillance device."

"I'll take a look at it while I'm waiting to hear back from my office," Charlie promised. "You know, I should meet up with them next time I'm in DC. It's been far too long. That Jimmy kid is a real natural."

"Thanks, Charlie. Okay, everyone, you are all to stay in your places until we're finished with our presentation," Mulder announced, motioning for Nathan to join him. "Argue about pillows amongst yourselves."

XXXXXXX

Half-an hour later, Scully impatiently sat on the couch, her feet propped up on an ottoman. She had been anxiously awaiting the presentation, not knowing what to expect. The boys and Mulder were huddled in the room Mulder used as an office, along with Noah. Kyle had noticed his seven-year-old cousin looked a little left out when Karen handed them their developed photos, and his brothers had no problem in enthusiastically inviting Noah to help them with their project.

Scully sipped her iced tea—which Karen had pointedly remarked had not been spiked with any alcohol like her own—and listened to her oldest nephew Peter tell her about his science project, which had won first place in his middle school science fair. "Can you send me the report you wrote?" Scully asked.

"You really want to read it?" Peter asked, stunned.

"Of course," Scully told him. "I'm really proud of you, and not just because you won. You know, Peter, you're the first kid I ever saw grow up. Well, besides your father, but he doesn't really count."

Peter beamed, which made Scully ache. When he was younger, they were extremely close, but their relationship had changed since she became a mother herself. For his birthday, he always spent a weekend with them in DC, and she always tried to carve out some one-on-one time with him during those trips, as well as during their annual week on the Vineyard. She always loved it when Peter emailed her questions related to his science homework, and she knew he always got a kick out of sharing her responses with his friends and teachers.

Nathan ran into the room. "Be quiet everybody! I mean please be quiet."

Scully chuckled at his inelegant interruption. "Mommy, it's not funny," he contended.

"You're right, I'm sorry, monkey," she quickly apologized. "I'm just very excited about what you are going to say."

Will and Noah walked in, each holding a handful of numbered Ziploc bags containing different items, and Kyle and Mulder followed with an oversized poster board, which they propped on a rocking chair. It was filled with photographs and maps, all connected with bits of string. Scully felt goosebumps run along her arms upon seeing this reincarnation of their previous FBI basement life.

Will began the presentation with gusto, announcing that he, his fathers, and his brothers had irrefutable proof of Bigfoot's existence. Judging by the way Will had nervously eyed his father, he had been practicing his pronunciation with that particular word. Nathan continued with longwinded explanations of the photos dotting the bottom of the poster board, explaining that the area of the park where they spotted Bigfoot was a place near all the creature's favorite things. Will and Noah passed around the Ziploc bags, each containing different pieces of Bigfoot-related evidence, including, much to their delight, photos of Bigfoot's poop.

Once they were finished with the presentation, they allowed Scully to closely inspect their evidence bag and photos. "You guys really did see Bigfoot," she pronounced, amazed. The photos were all crystal clear and were taken from different angles, as the boys and Mulder had stood at different areas of the park. "We stood in different places so you didn't think we were making it up," Nathan bluntly shared, as though he could read his mother's mind. "Plus Aunt Karen got the photos developed so you didn't think we tampered with the evidence."

"You are excellent investigators, monkey and bullfrog," Scully pronounced, watching large grins form on their faces. "You did such a good job with your presentation, I think you should do it again for Assistant Director Skinner, since he helped you with Will's report."

"At your work?" squeaked Will.

"If they let us back in," Mulder snorted. He and the boys had picked up Scully at work one afternoon the previous week, where they ended up getting stuck in an elevator after Nathan and Will pressed all many buttons as they could at once. While Scully was not in the car with them, a couple of other agents were, neither of whom seemed to appreciate their sense of humor.

"No elephant fart jokes, I promise," Nathan added for good measure.

"Well that was fantastic. You guys deserve some ice cream," Karen announced. "Who wants hot fudge?"

"That's certainly one way to clear a room," joked Mulder as the kids rushed to the kitchen, leaving him and Scully alone.

"You did good work, partner. Very impressive," Scully told Mulder as she slipped her arms around his waist. "You guys certainly saw Bigfoot."

"Aren't you going to ask me how?" he whispered in her ear.

Scully shook her head. She had absolutely no intention of telling Mulder that she had come across a sticky note he had left on his computer screen containing the name and phone number Ranger Peter Boulle. While she by no means had a photographic memory like her partner, the name sounded familiar, and a quick database search at work jogged her memory; Mulder had worked with him on the jersey devil case several years earlier. It seemed that he had transferred to a park in Connecticut over the intervening years. "I don't want to ruin the magic, Mulder. You have taught me that some things are best left unexplained."

"Let's take a stroll down the beach," Mulder suggested, wanting to take advantage of the opportunity for them to spend some time together undisturbed. They slipped out the backdoor unnoticed, making it as far as the hammock before they heard Charlie running after them.

"Mulder, where the fuck did the Gunmen get this?" Charlie demanded. "I need to know."

Mulder squeezed Scully's hand. "Charlie, I don't want to lie to you, but I also want to protect you," he admitted. "I don't want to put you in a bad position."

Charlie vehemently shook his head. "You don't understand, Mulder. I wrote the code on this device. I only made one copy, and I handed it directly to my boss, and I am almost certain she didn't make others. Where did the guys find this? I signed a non-disclosure agreement, and I need to protect myself in case I'm ever accused of having leaked the technology."

"Charlie, your company has a new owner, right?" Scully asked. "What's her name?"

"Sandra DePrens," Charlie said, taken aback by the ashen look on his brother-in-law's face. His eyes darted to his sister, who wore a similar expression. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Jesus Christ," Scully swore, rubbing Mulder's back as he knees buckled. She was surprised by the hatred and suspicion she suddenly felt towards the woman who they thought was her sister-in-law.

"Who is she, Danes? Mulder?"

"Sandra DePrens is an alias used by my sister," Mulder explained, wondering whether circumstances would have been different if he had shared that information with his brother-in-law years earlier. "The Gunmen found that device last week in Marita's room at her rehab facility."

"I have so many questions right now." Charlie clasped his hands behind his head, looking down at the grass. "I don't even know where to begin."

Mulder stared back towards the house, where he could make out the silhouettes of his children and nephews running around the kitchen, oblivious to the turmoil outdoors. He turned to Scully. "That's it," he said. "This ends now."

XXXXXXXX

Scully made him swear he would not go it alone, and would bring backup with tactical experience. He promised to contact Skinner when he and Charlie arrived in DC. "Mulder, there's one other person who you should consult. But you won't like what I have to say." Mulder could hear the hesitation in her voice, and prompted her to continue. "Jeffrey Spender. This could affect him and his mother. Who knows, Samantha—Sandra may have reached out to him."

He scowled, not so much because he did not like the idea but because she had a point—a very good one. He reluctantly nodded, folding his arms against his chest. He fell back against the wall, causing the mirror to shake. "I will."

Their conversation shifted to the practical. "If you get the call, take the money and IDs in the wall safe," he reminded her. "When you arrive in Montreal, they'll be more cash waiting for you."

"I still don't like the idea of splitting up the kids." She began pacing the room, her bare feet slightly sticking to the hardwood floor with every step she took. If something were to take a wrong turn, the plan would be for her and Kyle to leave for Canada immediately; the younger boys would stay with their cousins and Karen, and they would all rendezvous at a remote farmhouse in Vermont in seven days' time.

While Mulder agreed with her as a parent, from a safety and practicality standpoint, it would be the smartest thing for them to do. "I know, but it would only be for a few days, and they'll have security. Even if we were both available, we would be traveling separately. This is the worst-case scenario only, Scully. You really won't need to leave the Vineyard, and I'll be back before you know it. I'll be back in a couple of days, in time for the fourth of July."

While she wanted to tell her partner not to make promises he couldn't keep, she needed him to preserve a cool head even more. The worst thing that could happen would be if he were to backslide into another cycle of self-doubt; he couldn't afford to make any mistakes during this trip.

He crossed the room. "Scully," he started. "I need you to know how much I love you."

"I do know, Mulder," she promised him, doing her best to control the emotion in her voice.

He tipped her chin up, bending down to kiss her firmly. He impatiently pulled at her dress, their mouths barely separating as they wrestled it off of her. He tugged off his jeans while pushing Scully towards the bed, lifting her onto its center. He hovered over her on all fours, letting out a small moan when she wrapped her legs around his hips; this was deep and raw, nothing like the slow coupling they had shared the previous evening.

"I love you," Scully whispered into his ear when he finally collapsed onto her.

He moved onto his side, slinging his arm over her hip. "I want this to be over, Scully. I'm tired of the ghosts. I know we still have a lot of talking to do, but I've been thinking a lot over the past couple of weeks, and I guess it has just hit me that I haven't been as present for you and the kids as I could have been," he confessed. "And I want that to change."

"Mulder, the only thing you need to worry about is coming home safely to us. I love you, the kids love you. You'll be back in a couple of nights, and we'll figure the rest out together. Just be careful, Mulder. We don't know what this woman's intentions are."

"I know," he softly said. "She has a lot to answer for, Scully."

Once she had fallen asleep, he carefully untangled himself from Scully's embrace so he could grab the baby name book sitting on her nightstand. He still had a few hours before he was set to leave, and he was too keyed up to sleep. He set his bedside table lamp to its dimmest setting and fumbled for a pencil. He carefully thumbed through the pages, putting himself to work, writing the first thoughts that came to mind in reading through the names. Some were funny, some were sweet, some were absurd. While a part of him wanted to work through the entire volume, he did not want to leave the impression that he wouldn't be back to finish the job. After getting through the first half of the alphabet, he wrote Scully a note on the inside flap, tossing the book aside. He switched off the lamp completely, content in watching his partner sleep, praying to the God in which he didn't quite believe that he safely return home an unburdened man.

When Scully woke up the next morning, she found the baby name book next to her. Opening it to the page bookmarked by a pencil, she saw a note in Mulder's familiar scrawl. The name we'll choose is in here somewhere. I expect to read your notes as soon as I get back. Love, M. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she flipped through the pages, smiling as she saw the annotations, marked with stars and arrows and exclamation points.

And when Scully received a call from Mulder two nights later, she had the peace of mind knowing they both kept their promises to one another. But before she could say that out loud, Mulder spoke first. "Charlie and I are bringing some visitors with us," he announced.

XXXXXXXX

A/N: So sorry for the long delay between chapters. Special thanks to oldmoviewatcher for patiently reading drafts (and revisions!) of the same scenes!