TITLE: Guardian (Part II)
AUTHOR: R. Franke
E-MAIL:
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, Bill Scully POV
SPOILERS: Through Roadrunners, and my stories The Letter and Wedding Toast. Not a series, just a shared universe.
SUMMARY: "What do you see in him, Dana? Why him, and not someone else? Someone, I don't know, more normal?"
DISCLAIMER: Scully, Mulder, et al. are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, the Fox Network, the actors, writers, and all other persons known or unknown with a legal claim on the characters. All characters unique to this story are the property of R. Franke. This is a story of fan fiction, written for the purpose of personal satisfaction and the enjoyment of others, and monetary or other compensation is neither expected nor desired.
ARCHIVE: Permission is given to archive this story, provided it is archived without alteration, including this disclaimer and copyright notice, and the author is contacted at
COPYRIGHT 2001 by R. Franke
GUARDIAN
Part II
The next time I went up to the hospital I found Dana sitting alone, staring at an empty bed, the rosewood and sterling silver rosary she had inherited from our grandmother clutched in her hands. "Dana?" I asked softly. "Where's Mulder?"
"Surgery," she replied. She gave me an embarrassed smile as she slipped the rosary into her jacket pocket. "It helps."
I gave her a small smile in return. "How bad is it? From what Mom's told me I thought he was doing pretty well."
"They gave him a chip," she blurted. "Like mine. Different design though. They don't give the cancer to men. At least they didn't." She stared down at her hands. "Mostly they just tested them to death and then dumped the bodies. Or left them insane. We never have figured out why they'd let most of the women and only a few of the men survive."
"He wants it out?"
"We both want to live a normal life, a life out in the open." Dana paused and looked levelly at me. "But if we can't, he doesn't want there to be any way to track us."
I sat for a moment, trying to frame my response properly. "What about your chip?" I asked finally. "Are you going to take it out, too? I thought it was supposed to be keeping your cancer in check."
Dana smiled faintly at that. "My chip was taken out before I got pregnant."
"The cancer?"
"Gone."
"Are you sure?"
"Not entirely, no. But I'd be seeing signs by now, and I was told by a source that, well, let's just say a source that likes to tell lies with the truth, that my chip had malfunctioned."
"Malfunctioned?"
"It cured the cancer, instead of just controlling it."
"And your pregnancy?"
"That happened the old-fashioned way."
"You know what I mean, Dana."
"I don't know. Possibly." She looked up as a doctor came into the room. "Yes?" The doctor gave me a doubtful look. "My brother," Dana said simply.
The doctor nodded and took a deep breath. "I tried three times, Dr. Scully. If I even touch the chip, he goes into convulsions. He coded the last time." He paused as a pair of orderlies brought Mulder in and placed him on the bed. "The anaesthetic should wear off in an hour or so."
"Thank you, Doctor," Dana replied, adjusting Mulder to a more comfortable position. "Thank you for trying."
The three men left the room as Dana continued to fuss over Mulder. "Mom says the two of you have been talking to Father McCue." Dana stilled. "I would have appreciated hearing about it from you."
Dana turned to face me. "I wasn't sure how you'd react."
I looked down at Mulder. "What do you see in him, Dana? Why him, and not someone else? Someone, I don't know, more normal?"
"Tara has been stable for a while now," Dana replied slowly. "Since before Matthew was born. But there's always the chance the medication could stop working, that she'll have an 'episode' again."
"I knew what I was getting into when I married her."
"So do I, Bill."
I smiled grudgingly. "Point taken, Dana. Just don't ask me to be his new best buddy or anything like that."
Dana smiled. "I won't." She looked down. "I-I'm glad you're okay with this."
"He wouldn't be my first choice, but he's yours, and I guess that's what matters."
"Still-" she looked down at her hands again. "Billy, there's something," she paused, then the words came out in a rush. "When I was a little girl, I used to fantasize about what my wedding day would be like."
"That sounds more like something Missy would do."
"Trust me, Bill, every little girl dreams about her wedding day. No matter how much of a tomboy she is." She smiled slightly. "I always thought that it would be Dad walking me down the aisle." She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "If you don't feel you can, I'll understand, it won't change anything, but I'd like it if you could be the one to walk me down the aisle."
"I would be honored, Dana."
"Guys, put the shotguns away," Mulder laughed as he held up his hands. "I'm marrying Scully, and-"
"Why don't you call her Dana?" Charlie asked. Mulder blinked, his face suddenly blank. "Husbands and wives are allowed to call each other by their first names these days," Charlie continued.
"We tried that," Mulder replied. "Lasted about a day and a half." He smiled ruefully. "Look guys, I know it seems weird, but we've been Mulder and Scully for years now and," he spread his hands, "I guess we're just used to it."
I leaned forward. "What I want to know is, what happens when you see some more of your lights in the sky. Are you going to go haring off after them again?"
"I still," Mulder replied slowly, "want to find out the truth. About what happened to Scully, and to me, and the reasons behind it all. I want, I need, tangible proof. Scully's taught me that, if nothing else. But finding the truth won't mean a thing if I can't bring back clear and convincing evidence of what-"
"What about Dana?" I interrupted. "And the child? Your child. Yes, I know," I continued, overriding his attempt at an immediate comeback. "Dana's going to be spending more time in the lab, at least until the baby's on solid food, while you and Agent Doggett take care of the rough stuff. But what happens when the rough stuff turns around and bites you in-" I glanced over to where Matthew was inspecting the metal arm cuffs of Mulder's crutches and quickly censored myself. "And bites back. What then?"
"What if something had happened on one of your deployments?" Mulder asked.
"That's not the same thing-" I began.
Mulder cut me off. "Isn't it, Lieutenant Commander Scully? What if you hadn't come back from your last cruise? What then?" He leaned forward as I mentally cursed myself for allowing him to outmaneuver me. "You and I-"
"You've made your point," I conceded. "Agent Mulder." Two, I decided, could play the formality game. "But that still-" I stopped as the front door swung open and Tara, Mom, and Dana trooped in, laden with bags.
"Did you leave anything for the other customers?" Mulder asked.
Dana quirked an eyebrow. "I told you he was a funny man."
"Hilarious," Tara deadpanned in reply.
"What have you boys been doing while we were out?" Mom asked quickly.
"Just watching the game, talking about things," Charlie replied. I glanced over at the TV and felt my heart sink as I realized my beloved O's had, in their inimitable style, once again snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, blowing a four run lead to trail by two at the bottom of the eighth.
"What sort of things?" Dana asked.
"Oh, sandlot games when you were a kid, that sort of thing," Mulder replied. "You know, Scully. Guy stuff."
"An' Uncle Mulder's," Matthew piped up, his face twisting as he carefully pronounced Mulder's name correctly, "lights inna sky."
"Bill," Dana growled.
"What are you blaming me for?" I demanded.
"I was the one who brought the subject up, Scully," Mulder said.
"Yeah, Bill was just saying how great a shortstop you were," Charlie chimed in. "Almost as good as Cal."
"Besides, Dana," Tara added brightly, taking Dana's hand and attempting to pull her towards the kitchen, "we need to make a final decision on the caterer."
"The caterer can wait," Dana snapped, yanking her hand from Tara's grip. "Mulder wouldn't use the phrase "lights in the sky", and-"
"And I seem to remember the phrase "I've never hit a baseball in my life" coming from your lips, Scully," Mulder interrupted with a grin. I wondered about that for a moment. Dana had always been an easy out whenever we played, but I was sure she must have hit something.
"That's not the point, Mulder-"
"The point, Dana Katherine," Mom interrupted sternly, "is that if you have not decided on a caterer by 9 am tomorrow morning your guests will be eating stale cheese sandwiches. John McCue didn't go to all the trouble of getting the bishop to grant a dispensation just so you could-" her voice faded out as she and Tara each grabbed an arm and pulled Dana into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind them.
Mulder looked at us solemnly. "I promise you guys, anybody that wants to hurt them is going to have to go through me."
"Through us," Charlie replied. "We're family, Mulder," he explained as Mulder responded with the blank look that I was beginning to realize meant his brain was kicking into high gear.
Mulder grinned wryly. "Family," he repeated.
I remembered being in Baltimore just over a year ago for something or other and deciding to drop by Mom's. I was just starting up the front stoop when I heard Dana's angry voice drifting out of the open window. "Teena Mulder abandoned her son to crawl inside a Valium bottle. The hell if she deserves to have anyone mourning her." I could hear the sound of Mom's voice as she replied, too softly for me to make out the words as I turned around and went back to my car.
I nodded and handed him a beer from the cooler by my feet. "I'm holding you to that, Mulder." He tipped the bottle towards me in acknowledgement and slid the pretzels across the coffee table. "What about the music?" I asked.
"Looks like it'll be either the Bach or Handel, with Pachelbel for the recessional," Charlie replied. "We haven't really discussed incidental music yet."
"I've got a few ideas," Mulder began.
Charlie held up his hand. "Before you go any further, let me just say that Dana has made it perfectly clear she will break every single one of my fingers if I play one of your suggestions without clearing it through her first."
Mulder threw up his hands. "Don't I get a say about anything in this wedding?"
"…idiotic macho posturing…" Dana's voice drifted out as Tara opened the kitchen door.
"No," Tara replied as she grabbed a couple of the bags they'd left in the hall and went back into the kitchen.
"If she'd listen to me for once we'd've been married by now," Mulder grumbled.
"Tara was just as bad," I offered sympathetically.
"So was Lauren," Charlie put in. With a wry smile he added, "At least I didn't have to deal with pregnancy hormones."
I took a swallow from my beer. "You just have to remember, every third sentence out of your mouth had better be 'Yes, dear' for the time being."
Mulder groaned as Charlie and I laughed. "Like I don't do that enough already."
"Not to hear Dana tell it," Charlie answered.
"Speaking of which," Mulder said. "What's this about her playing shortstop?"
We kept the conversation to baseball after that until Mom called us to dinner.
"She's no worse than I was," Tara replied, resting her chin on my chest.
"You weren't that bad," I protested. "I keep telling you, you've got a sharp little chin."
Tara slid her hands up my chest and propped them under her chin. "Better? That's just because whenever I saw you I'd get all soft and squooshy inside. With everyone else, I was a bitch on wheels."
"Thanks. You were just anxious. Dana on the other hand- And I don't think that's a word."
"It is so too a word." Tara raised herself up slightly to look directly into my eyes. "Dana just wants everything to be perfect, just like I did and just like every woman does."
"So you're saying grin and bear it. And no it isn't."
Tara laid her head back down. "Yep. Besides in the end all she's really going to care about is standing up in front of the world and saying this is the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with."
"With Mulder."
Tara raised her head up again. "You're not going to cause trouble, are you?"
"First off," I protested, "that whole incident got blown way out of proportion. Yes, I admit I didn't handle it as well as I could have, but frankly, neither did he. And secondly while I do think the man's spaceship could use a few more retrorockets, if I was that deadset against it, come Saturday it'd be someone else walking Dana down the aisle."
"I know." Tara rubbed my chest. "You know, if you think about it right, the omens are pretty good for this marriage."
"Omens?" I laughed. "Tell me you're not channeling Missy." I sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What omens?"
"Well, really only one," Tara replied.
"And that is?"
"Pregnancy. Your mom was pregnant with you and Missy when they got married and I was pregnant when we got married. Lauren was the only one who wasn't, and they got divorced. I just hope it turns out better for them than it did for us," she added sadly.
No matter how long I live, the worst day of my life is going to be the third day of our honeymoon, when I woke up to a bed full of blood and a wife so pale I thought I was a widower. Even the time a month later when I found her standing with a knife in her hands, blood running down into the kitchen sink, runs second to the fear and helplessness I felt then.
I raised her chin up with my hand and looked into her eyes. "They'll be fine," I said firmly. "Don't start borrowing trouble."
Tara smiled and reached her hand up, pulling my head down to hers. "I love you," she murmured against my lips as she kissed me. "And it is a word."
The wedding went beautifully. Dana had a little moment of panic while we were waiting for the ceremony to start, but I managed to get her settled down in time for me to walk her down the aisle to Mulder's side. "Who gives this woman into holy matrimony?" Father McCue intoned.
"I give myself," Dana responded.
"With the love and support of her family," I added as Dana gave my hand a gentle squeeze and lifted her hand from mine to place it in Mulder's waiting palm.
I caught a glimpse of the radiant smile Dana gave Mulder as I turned away, my part in the ceremony over with, and the goofy grin that spread across Mulder's face in reply. Tara stood as one of Dana's bridesmaids, Matthew beside her, the pillow and rings he had borne now resting safely on a stand beside Father McCue. Tara and I shared a smile of our own as I collected Matthew and we sat down beside Mom, who was already dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
St. Mary's is a lovely church, a classic example of Victorian-era Gothic Revival architecture, but there was a surprising amount of dust in the air. Tara, of course, misinterpreted completely the one or two sniffles I gave and mouthed "Softie" to me as she and Mulder's friend Langley passed by during the recessional. I forbore from pointing out that there had been more than a few sniffles coming from Mulder's side of the aisle as well.
Even with that, it was still a lovely ceremony, and with none of the bizarre events that seemed to occur with such regularity in Dana's life. At least until after the ceremony.
I was coming back from the men's room when I heard Dana's voice. "You two are the only other people to have survived both the vaccine and the black oil."
I peeked around the corner to see Dana and Mulder standing with their backs to me. Krycek stood beside them. A slender blonde stood beyond them, facing away as if she had turned to leave. "You're asking too much, Agent Scully." I ducked back around the corner as the blonde whirled to face them. "Far too much."
"You once told me you wanted to be more than a glorified secretary to a group of frightened old men," Mulder commented quietly.
"Playing baby factory isn't my idea of an improvement, Agent Mulder," the blonde retorted.
"They're right," Krycek interjected. "You know they are. We both do. Everything we're doing to keep them looking in the other direction means nothing if we can't develop a vaccine that doesn't kill off ninety percent of the population."
"That's easy for you to say," the blonde retorted. "Thirty seconds and your job's done."
"Do you think that little of me, Marishka?" he asked softly.
"Damn you," she replied, equally softly. "Damn you." There was a long silence, then the blonde continued in a soft, toneless voice. "They fear us, Agent Scully. What to us is a natural and," she gave a small snort that could have been taken for amusement, "not entirely undesirable fact of life, is to them something utterly incomprehensible, utterly alien, and completely terrifying."
"You came to us, Ms. Covarrubias," Dana replied quietly.
"Congratulations Agents," Covarrubias said, her voice flat. "May your life together be filled with all the happiness you deserve." I heard her heels clicking on the tile floor as she walked away, accompanied by Krycek's heavier male tread.
"Scully," Mulder began.
"We need them, Mulder," Dana replied. "God help us, but we can't do this without the information and access they have."
"Maybe, Scully. But they need us as well. They've betrayed too many people too many times to have any hope of surviving otherwise."
"That's what worries me, Mulder."
I waited until I heard them walk away before I emerged from concealment.
Mulder answered the door when I knocked at Dana's new place. His and Dana's, I should say. "Tara sent me over with some of Matthew's baby clothes and stuff," I said, holding up the bags. "There's more in the car."
Mulder looked baffled for a moment, then his face cleared. "Oh. Oh right. Scu- er, Dana did say something about that. She's on a consult, she should be back soon." He looked back over his shoulder. "Things are, um, kind of a mess right now. Why don't you just leave those here and I'll get them."
I snorted as I eyed Mulder's cane. "You've still got what, two more months with that thing? Dana'd kill me if I made you lug everything through the house." I stepped around Mulder and went in. "Besides, as often as we've had to move it's not like I'm not used to seeing- Jesus!" Covering the coffee table were photographs of the mutilated bodies of young women. Girls, really. Four photos of attractive, smiling young blondes to one side of the table seemed even more obscene as I realized their faces matched the faces in the other photographs.
"He got around me before I could stop him, Scully, I swear," I heard Mulder say.
"Let's just get him into the kitchen," Dana replied, taking me by the arm. I could smell the coppery tang of blood and other less pleasant bodily liquids, and underlying it all was a thick, almost sweetish smell that seemed to lodge in the back of my throat and press against my gag reflex.
"You guys in Pathology stop up the plumbing again?" Mulder cracked. "Shower, Scully," he ordered in a more serious tone. "I'll take care of him." Dana retreated upstairs as I followed Mulder into the kitchen and collapsed in the first chair I came to. Mulder plunked a glass of something in front of me. "Drink."
Whatever it was made a soothing burn in my stomach as I swallowed. I concentrated on the glass in my hand until I could collect my thoughts and be sure my voice would work properly. "I thought- I thought you guys weren't going to be taking any more cases for a while. Letting Doggett handle things. That doesn't look like handling things to me."
"Doggett's a plodder, but he can keep things going until we get back," Mulder replied. "That's just a consult, a wedding present of sorts from Investigative Support." He snorted. "It's got weird shit in it, call the Spookys. Personally, I was hoping for a fondue pot."
"I'll give you ours." I pointed towards the living room. "That's not an X-file, what happened to those girls? No aliens, no monsters of any kind? Those symbols, they don't mean anything?"
"Oh, there's a monster," Mulder answered. "The same kind of monster as Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy. And those symbols are supposed to make us think we're looking at ritualistic cult killings." He held up a bottle of Scotch. "Another? We're not, of course. The UNSUB is working alone."
I shook my head. "Are you telling me that a person, one person, did," I swallowed heavily and started again. "One guy did that to those four girls?"
Mulder grimaced. "I'm afraid so. And it's five, now. Scully was supposed to observe the fifth victim's autopsy and bring me a copy of her file, but observing for your sister usually means participating, if not outright taking over." He smiled. "She can be rather," Mulder paused slightly, "assertive at times, especially in an autopsy bay. Pregnancy just seems to be making it worse."
"The Slice Queen," I responded dully. "That's what Doggett said they call her."
"Yes, they do." I looked up to see Dana standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in an overlarge sweatshirt from the FBI Academy and a pair of maternity jeans. Water dripped from her hair, darkening the sweatshirt. "Also Ghoul, Ghoulish Red, Dr. Death, the Ice Queen, and Doc Ice," she continued, pulling a chair around and sitting down to face me. "Pretty much what every pathologist gets."
Mulder said something about cleaning up and left. I stared down at the empty glass in my hand. "Did you know this is only the second time I've drunk hard liquor since Matthew was born?"
"No, I didn't," Dana replied softly.
"I could see myself turning into Uncle Jimmy," I continued, still staring down at the glass in my hands. "That isn't the example I want to set for Matthew. Saying, being, like that."
Dana laid her hand my forearm and gently squeezed. "You aren't Uncle Jimmy. You couldn't be." She paused for a moment. "But that doesn't mean you didn't get pretty close."
"I know." I looked down at the floor. "I guess this is why you don't like to talk about work whenever we get together," I said finally.
Dana took the glass from my hands, setting it on the table. "I've always thought it better if you guys didn't know all the details of what I do." She took my hands in hers. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but this is what I do, Bill."
"I know," I replied softly. "But why does it have to be you?"
"It's what I do, Bill," she repeated softly. "It's who I am."
"Scully," I looked up to see Mulder standing in the doorway, teeth bared in a wolfish grin. "Scully," he repeated, holding up a file folder, "I love you."
Dana's expression became just as predatory, with perhaps a hint of smugness as well. "I thought you'd like that."
"Does this mean you'll catch this guy?" I demanded, thinking of those pictures in the living room.
"We're a lot closer than we were this morning," Mulder replied. "I'll be in the bedroom," he called over his shoulder as he left. "Living room's clear."
Dana smiled at me. "Come on, I'll show you the nursery." I stayed silent. Her smile died as she searched my face. "What? What is it, Bill?"
I shook my head. "I was thinking this is a side of you I've never seen before," I began.
"Bill-"
"The scary thing," I continued, "is that, strange as this may sound, it doesn't seem wrong. It should, but-" I shrugged my shoulders as my voice trailed off.
"I'm still me, Bill," Dana replied as she held out her hands. "I haven't changed."
"Maybe I have, then," I answered as I stood and grasped her hands. "Dana," I continued slowly as I helped her stand, "that, it means a great deal to you, doesn't it?" I asked, nodding at her FBI sweatshirt.
She gave my own Navy T-shirt a significant glance and raised her eyes to meet mine. "Yes, it does."
I nodded solemnly. "I guess I just never let myself realize how much." I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "The others, they," I began.
"They don't need to know about this sort of thing," Dana answered. "They can't."
I shook my head in agreement. "They're civilians."
"They're civilians," Dana repeated with a wry smile.
My eyes widened and I responded with a rueful grin of my own as I realized what I had admitted. "Yes, they are civilians." I took a deep breath. "And we're not."
"No," Dana replied solemnly, her eyes locking with mine. "We're not." I recognized the haunted look in her eyes, the look that had begun for me with a young Force Recon Marine whose death was still officially acknowledged only as a tragic accident, and culminating in fourteen dead sailors, five dead SEALS, and my first command a crippled boat deep inside Chinese territorial waters.
I realized something else as well. When I gave the order that sent our fish into the carrier and fooled the enemy into thinking they had come from the second Chinese boat, I hadn't known the sailors I was killing. Not their names, nor their faces. Those times when my little sister had been forced to pull the trigger, she saw their faces, knew their names. The fact that they were criminals didn't change the fact of their humanity. "From what I hear, sis, you're not half bad at what you do," I said, trying to lighten the mood and convey my sincerity at the same time.
Dana smiled and held out her arm. "Come on, big brother, it's time for you to say nice things about our wallpapering abilities." We kept the conversation to inconsequentials after that, and I made the proper noises about the work they'd done on the nursery. It wasn't until I was driving home that I realized I had forgotten to ask her about that little scene with Krycek at the wedding.
I was grading essays when the two-star came into my office. "Sir?" I started to rise and salute when he waved me back down and took a seat.
"At ease, Commander. This isn't a formal visit, at least not yet. John Ruggin." He held out his hand.
"Bill Scully," I replied, shaking his hand. "What can I do for you, Admiral?"
"I'm sure you've heard something about the unsettled situation in the South China Sea right now, Commander."
"Only what I read in the papers, sir." The discovery that the Spratly Island oil field was not only larger than previously thought, but of a purity outmatched only by the Persian Gulf field had touched off a firestorm of competing claims and counterclaims over the barely inhabited archipelago.
"The PLAN will be performing naval exercises in the region. Coincidentally, there'll be an ANZUS combined fleet goodwill tour to the ASEAN nations in the same area."
"Yes, sir," I replied, carefully keeping my face blank.
"Admiral Li will be in command of the Chinese task force."
"Yes, sir."
Ruggin leaned back in his chair. "I would have thought that the naval officer with the temerity to rewrite and update Mahan might be interested in seeing how closely his theories matched reality."
"I can't say that I'm not, sir," I replied. "But my work is here now, until the Navy chooses differently."
Ruggin sighed. "Ah, yes, your administrative review. Did you know the average time for an administrative review is less than three weeks, Commander?"
I nodded. "Yes sir, I am aware of that fact."
"Then again, Commander, you did commit mutiny, pure and simple. No matter what the circumstances, you seized command of an American military vessel from its lawfully recognized commander during a combat situation. The only reason you weren't court-martialed is the political situation."
"Yes sir," I replied, stiffening to attention
"I said at ease, Commander." Ruggin nodded at the picture on my desk. "Is that your family?"
"Yes sir," I answered, allowing some of the confusion I felt to show in my voice. "My wife Tara, and our son Matthew."
"He looks like a fine boy, Commander."
"Thank you, sir."
"My late wife and I were never blessed with children of our own. You're a lucky man." The admiral raised his head, spearing me with his eyes. "Tell me something, Commander. If you had to do it all over again, would you?"
I started to speak, stopped, then started again. "Not exactly, sir."
"Not exactly?"
"If I had to do it over again sir, I would have acted before nineteen men were dead."
"I see." He smiled slightly. "I'm not with ONI, NCIS or anyone else, Commander. I didn't come here to try and trap you. I'm here to see if you'd be interested in getting your feet wet again. As my Operations Officer."
"My experience has been in subs, Admiral, not surface ships," I replied. "Not to mention that I do have a responsibility to my students as well."
"But you know how Li thinks, Commander. You've outthought him once already. You're a hell of a tactician and have a better grasp of strategy than most officers of your rank."
I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Thank you, sir. But there was a certain amount of luck involved as well."
The Admiral snorted. "I grew up near Las Vegas, Commander. I don't trust luck. If I thought that was all you had going for you I'd let you rot here. But I've read your articles, talked to people. Yes, you were lucky. Things came together for you. But you knew how to take advantage of what came your way. Now the Chinese are out two subs, one of which they took out themselves, and their only operational flattop ended up with one hell of a hole in her side. A lot of people know what happened, Commander Scully," he continued. "But the people who would talk don't know enough to be convincing, and those that do are smart enough to keep their mouths shut." He leaned back in his chair. "Besides, if your students still need you to hold their hands this late in the game, are you really doing your job?"
"I can't say the idea doesn't intrigue me, sir, and normally I'd jump at the chance," I replied. "As for my students," I continued stiffly, "I have complete confidence in their abilities and their judgements." Ruggin nodded slightly in apology. "But," I concluded, "the fact remains that I am still under administrative review."
"And that," Ruggin replied, "is the problem." He looked down at his hands. "As I said, my wife and I were never blessed with children of our own, but that doesn't mean we didn't have children in our lives." I rose as the admiral stood and replaced his cover on his head. "Ensign Delahoy is my godson, Commander. If nothing else, you have my gratitude, along with the gratitude of the family and friends of the 137 other men you brought back. I'll start the paperwork as soon as I get back to the Pentagon."
"Bill, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you missed your flight."
"Oh, she's so cute," Tara cooed, eyes locked on the tiny bundle in Dana's arms.
"What, I can't at least say hi to my brand-new niece before I go?" I smiled. "Relax, Dana, I'm catching a later flight. I'll still be there in plenty of time."
"We're glad you could make it," Mulder replied. He sat on the hospital bed beside Dana with a slightly stunned look on his face, looking simultaneously overjoyed and scared to death.
Dana and Tara shared a smile. "Didn't Bill have that same expression on his face when Matthew was born?"
Dana looked at Mulder, then at me. "And for about three weeks afterwards as well."
"Very funny," I growled. "May I see her?" Tara moved out of the way so I could get a glimpse.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Mulder asked, his eyes never leaving the baby's slumbering face.
Most babies look like either Winston Churchill or Alfred Hitchcock, and my brand-new niece was no exception. Matthew had been the only baby I had ever seen who didn't, so I just said "Yeah, Mulder, she is."
"Have you decided on a name yet?" Tara asked.
"We're still in negotiations," Dana replied wryly.
"Esmerelda is a perfectly good name," Mulder protested.
"For somebody's ninety-year old maiden aunt," Dana retorted.
"She was my favorite aunt."
"Could you at least have a name picked out by the time I get back?" I interjected.
"How soon to you have to go?" Dana asked.
"Pretty much now," I replied. "But before I left, we wanted to let you know," my arm went around Tara, "she's going to have another cousin soon."
"Congratulations," Mulder smiled.
"That's wonderful," Dana said simultaneously. "How far along are you?"
"About seven weeks," Tara replied. "We found out for sure a couple days ago."
"I really do have to be going now," I said, leaning over and kissing Dana on the cheek as Tara went around the bed and gave Mulder a hug.
Dana put her free arm around my neck and kissed my cheek in return. "Be careful out there, big brother. Watch where you're going this time."
"You just worry about yourself, baby sis, and take care of my favorite niece," I replied. Dana made a face at the hated nickname, then gave me a wide smile. "Both of you," I added as I moved over to shake Mulder's hand. Tara went back to Dana's side for one last coo over the baby.
"Kind of puts Fluky and everything else into perspective, doesn't it?" Mulder said, his eyes never leaving Dana and the baby as he shook my hand.
"Mulder, I have no idea what you're talking about, and I probably don't want to know," I replied. "But yeah, it does."
I couldn't help but gape in amazement as I realized which ship lay ahead of me. From the distinctive flaring bow to the sixteen-inch guns silhouetted against the Hawaiian sunrise, she looked every inch the concrete, visible symbol of our country's military and industrial supremacy. Submarines always have and always will be my first love, but there is something immensely reassuring about having a ship that can throw a shell the size of a Volkswagen on your side.
The OOD was going over a clipboard with a young petty officer as I came up the gangplank. "Permission to come aboard, sir," I saluted, noting first the stripes of a full Commander on his arm, and only then noting his face, the face of a man I had once called a friend, a man who had once called me friend, back before I fell in love with his wife.
Ray Flanagan looked back at me, his face expressionless, then returned my salute. "Permission granted, Lieutenant Commander Scully. Welcome aboard the Iowa."
We were three days from our rendezvous with the Thomas Jefferson when a photograph of two naval ensigns linked arm in arm with an attractive young brunette was placed in front of me. Ray and I had huge grins on our faces and Lisa's head was thrown back in laughter as the camera caught her with her leg raised in an impromptu can-can step.
"We had a lot of fun back then, didn't we?" Ray asked musingly, looking out over the sternrail as he spoke.
"Yes, we did," I replied neutrally, unsure of how to react. We stood quietly for a while until I felt compelled to break the silence. "When I requested reassignment I was hoping that maybe the two of you would be able to salvage something. I mean-"
"She's married to an insurance salesman now. In Kansas, of all places." Ray shook his head ruefully and returned the picture to his pocket. "You weren't the cause, Bill," he added, turning to face me. "Just a symptom. We were too young. All of us were." He nodded to me and walked away.
I watched him go, my thoughts whirling. I had been mentally preparing myself for days to face his anger, his bitterness, his disdain, but this just left me feeling confused and very, very small.
"Welcome aboard the Tommy J, sir," the ensign yelled as she saluted, grabbing my bag as I stepped out of the helo. "Follow me." I clutched my cover to my head with one hand and held my briefcase with the other as we dashed across the heaving deck of the carrier, almost blinded by the driving rain and spray. Behind us, a party of ratings finished lashing down the helicopter and dashed for shelter. "The Admiral has requested your presence for dinner in his quarters at 1800, sir," she continued as soon as we had closed the hatch behind us. "I'm to show you to your quarters and then to the Admiral's at your convenience, sir."
I looked at my watch. "Well, it's 1730 now, so you'd better show me to my quarters, Ensign?" I let my voice trail off.
"Hastings, sir," she replied, the smile that broke out on her face looking much more natural on her cheerful features than the proper military stoicism she schooled her countenance into an instant later. "Follow me, sir," she repeated.
"Glad you could make it, Commander," Ruggin said, returning my salute as I stepped through the hatch. "This is the man I was telling you about, JT," he continued.
The other man returned my salute as well, "So you're the Admiral's Ops wizard. JT del Santos. Welcome aboard, Commander."
"Thank you, Captain," I replied. "Bill Scully. And may I just say you have some fine helo drivers on this ship, sir."
"Lieutenant Iliff is one of the best there is," del Santos answered. "I'll send her your compliments." del Santos paused for a moment. "I served under your father on the Edwin Raynor," he continued. "He was a good officer. I was sorry to hear about his passing."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."
"We'll be ducking out of the trailing edge and meeting up with the Aussies at 0800," the Admiral said. "Briefing's at 0900. I'm looking forward to your presentation, Commander."
"Thank you, sir. With your permission, I'd like to stop by CIC and double-check a few things before then."
"Ensign Hastings will show you after dinner," del Santos replied as the steward entered.
"Dinner is served, Admiral."
"I think-" Hastings began hesitantly.
"The admiral didn't ask what you think, Ensign," del Santos spat. "Where will Li be in two days?"
"Here." Her finger stabbed down at the chart. "Sir." del Santos raised reproving eyebrows at the miniscule pause before the honorific.
"Why there, Ms. Hastings?" I asked quickly, playing my role of nice teacher to del Santos' nasty one. "There are several anchorages in the area. Any one of them would be more than adequate."
"Well, like you said, sir," Hastings began before I could catch her eye and give my head slight shake.
"Excuse me, Commander, but would you mind drinking a glass of water," del Santos sneered. "I'd like to see if the Ensign here can still manage to talk."
"Why that particular anchorage, Ms. Hastings?" I looked directly at del Santos and added neutrally, "I'm sure the admiral would like to hear your opinion," placing a slight but noticeable stress on the word your.
Hastings' eyes darted between del Santos and I. I could tell she suspected what we were doing. "He's going to want something sheltered and big enough to hold his ships, but close to where the new rigs will be going up," she stated confidently. "At the same time though, he's going to want something off the beaten path, with less chance of being seen by any unfriendly eyes." She stabbed at the map again with her finger. "This is the only place on this section of the coast that fits."
The admiral flicked a glance at del Santos and spoke. "Thank you for that cogent analysis, Miss Hastings." Hastings' mouth twitched and she blushed slightly as I nodded in approval. "Your opinion, Commander?" Ruggin continued.
I studied the chart, swaying slightly with the motion of the ship. We had ducked back inside the storm as soon as we had met up with the Australians and were letting Mother Nature and a few decidedly low-tech but effective tricks hide our exact position from prying eyes. "Ensign Hastings' deduction is the logical one," I said slowly. "I con-" I couldn't bring myself to finish. There was something else. Something- "No," I said, letting my finger drop to an inlet almost seventy-five miles closer. "He'll be here."
"The carrier would never make it over the rocks," Captain McKedree scoffed. "There's a reason nobody's ever dredged that harbor out, Commander."
I looked over at the burly Australian commanding the RAN contingent of our fleet. "Normally, that would be true, sir," I replied, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, the excitement that always came when I knew I was on the right track. "But this," I waved my hand, indicating the immense storm surrounding us, "has pushed tide levels along the coast the highest they've been in over a century. He'll have just barely enough water under his keel to clear the entrance, but he'll have it."
"It's risky," McKedree rumbled. "Not to mention the shallowness of the bay itself, even with the high tides."
"He'd be willing to take that risk, sir." I paused for a moment. "Li Zemin has been one of the strongest, most public voices for the creation of an independent naval force for over a decade now." I pointed down at the chart again. "This will put him closer to the new rigs by almost a day over anyone else." I knew that everyone in the compartment understood what that could mean. A successful occupation of the nominally international waters where the rigs would go up would gain Li and his compatriots allies in Beijing. As long as the Chinese navy remained the People's Liberation Army Navy, it would remain the poor stepchild, behind the Army and the Air and Strategic Rocket Forces. As Wally Petersen had once cracked, even the oft-threatened invasion of Taiwan would be the Million-Man Swim. A navy is a nation's premier method for extending its power beyond its borders, and the creation of a People's Liberation Navy would signify a major change in Beijing's thinking to a more aggressive posture on the world stage. "He'll take the risk." I repeated firmly.
We debated and planned for the rest of the night, and two days later when the storm had passed and Admiral Li Zemin of the People's Liberation Army Navy emerged from the shallow bay he had taken shelter in he found an ANZUS Task Force in front of him, holding station twelve-and-a-half miles from the Chinese coast.
We did nothing after Li emerged, merely turned and steamed slowly through the disputed area on our way to the first port in our show-the-flag tour of Southeast Asia. We had shown Beijing the stick, now it was time for diplomats like my kid brother to offer them a carrot or two in exchange for not starting a war.
The diplomats met while we were on our tour, and a rather complicated profit sharing plan was hammered out between all the parties involved. No one was exactly happy with the final result, but nobody started shooting either.
"Sir, sir? Are you all right, sir?"
I shook my head as I held on to the hatch coaming and tried to will my churning stomach calm. "I'm fine, Gutierrez," I snapped. I saw the rating stiffen at my tone as I shoved off from the bulkhead and continued down the companionway.
I stopped by the MARS phone and pulled out my credit card, tapping my fingers impatiently against the wall as I waited for the operator to connect me. I'd woken up less than an hour ago with a sick feeling of dread roiling my stomach and a desperate need to hear Tara's voice.
An unfamiliar male voice came on the line. "Hello?"
"Who is this?" I demanded. In the background, I could hear the crackle of an official sounding radio, although I couldn't make out any words.
"This is Detective Ridout with the Annapolis City Police Department. Who is this?" he answered over the sound of a siren starting up and pulling away.
"Oh God." I slumped against the bulkhead. "My wife. My son. Are they-" I couldn't bring myself to finish.
"Mr. Scully?" Ridout replied. "They're alive Mr. Scully-"
"Thank God."
"Bill?" Dana's voice came on the line.
"Dana, what happened? Tara and Matthew, are they all right? The detective said they were alive, but are they all right?"
"Matthew's fine, they just locked him in a closet. Tara-" her voice broke. "Oh God Billy, I'm so sorry. I don't know what they gave her, but she reacted, badly."
I closed my eyes. "The baby?"
"I'm sorry," Dana repeated.
"Bill?" Mulder's voice came on the line. "I don't know what you need to do, compassionate leave or whatever it's called, but you need to be here."
Mom met me at the gate with Matthew by her side when my flight got into BWI. I'd gotten as far as Salt Lake City on military flights, then civilian air proved to be faster and more direct. Mathew launched himself into my arms as soon as he saw me and clung tightly, not saying a word.
"How is she?" I demanded.
Mom shook her head. "The same. She still hasn't woken up yet. Do we need to stop by the baggage claim?"
I indicated the carryon bag slung over my shoulder. "No, everything else is being sent. Which level are you on?"
"Lower," Mom replied. I headed for the elevators.
"Maybe the stairs would be better," Mom added with a significant glance at Matthew. I clenched my jaw tightly against the rage that bubbled up inside me as we headed for the stairs to the parking garage.
"From what I understand," the doctor told me as we stood outside Tara's door, "the drugs your wife were given normally act as a kind of truth serum, but when they interacted with the medication she usually takes, the results were," he paused for a moment, "unfortunate."
I snorted at his delicacy. "The result, Doctor, was one hell of an effective abortifactient," I snapped.
"How is she, Doctor Perronne?" I heard Dana's voice ask as she came up behind me.
"I'm afraid she still hasn't regained consciousness, Dr. Scully," Perronne replied.
"Get out," I growled.
"Billy-" Dana laid her hand on my arm.
I threw her hand off as I angrily whirled to face her. "Don't call me Billy," I snapped. "We're not kids anymore for God's sake. I trusted you, Dana," I continued. "You and Mulder, but especially you I trusted to watch them and keep them safe. Now Mattie's absolutely terrified of his own closet. God only knows if he'll ever have his mother again." I gave a sharp laugh. "But I guess when you go after the Truth," I spat, "you have to expect some collateral damage." The guilt on Dana's face was all the answer I needed. "Do whatever the hell you want, Dana. Go chase your little green men, I don't care. Just stay the hell away from my family."
"I- I never thought-" Dana began.
"Wasn't Missy enough?"
"You bastard," Dana hissed, fists clenched tight by her side. "Do you think I wanted this? Any of this?"
"Sometimes I wonder," I ground out. "I swear to God, Dana, sometimes I really do." I spun on my heel, my own fists clenching, and strode into Tara's room, shutting the door behind me. Only the thought that the noise would bother Tara kept me from slamming the door in Dana's face.
I sat on the edge of the bed and took Tara's hand in mine. "It's me, honeybun. Sugar pie." Tara despised pet names as much as I did, and would usually respond by rolling her eyes or making a sarcastic request for a shot of insulin. This time she just laid there, her face almost as pale as the sheet she was lying on.
I brought her hand to my lips. "Come on, Tare," I said as the tears ran down my cheeks. "Where else am I going to find someone to kick my ass at Scrabble on a regular basis?" The only reply was the soft, steady beep of the heart monitor.
END PART II
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