March 4, 1999
Mulder's Apartment
8:57 am

* * * * * *
Well you got your reasons,
And you got your lies,
And you got your manipulations,
They cut me down to size.
--Tonic, "If You Could Only See"
* * * * * *

The shrill ring of the cell phone broke Mulder free from his latest
series of nightmares. He sat up, head spinning and blindly reached for
his phone. Half of him hoped that he would hear the familiar, "Mulder,
it's me." the other half knew just how unlikely that would be.

"Mulder."

"We found something." It was Langly.

"Did you find her? What did you discover?" Mulder asked impatiently in a
voice wanting and not quite daring to hope.

"No, but we found someone that may know where she is. I can't say
anything else now. Just come over."

Mulder was already out the door before Langly had finished the last
sentence.

* * * * * *
The Lone Gunmen Head Quarters
9:28am

"What? She's still alive?" Mulder face was blank, but the shock was
obvious in his eyes. This was the last thing that he expected to hear
when he came over. This was the last name he expected.

"Yes, Diana Fowley is alive and well as far as we can tell. After..."
Byers paused to clear his throat. "After we found out the information on
her before, and after you...um... well after Scully told you about the
information..." Byers was looking even more uncomfortable, if possible.

Mulder spoke, "After I said that I didn't believe her..."he sighed.

"Um, yeah. After that, Scully asked us to continue to keep tabs on her.
We also thought that she had been killed with the others; there had been
no activity, that is until yesterday. We knew that someone was using her
accounts, but we couldn't be sure it was her until this morning." Langly
handed him a grainy photo, and resumed from where Byers had left off.
"We were able to pull this picture off a security camera in the lobby of
the Cabal Hotel, in New York City. She arrived today. We have no way of
knowing how long she'll stay. This may be your only chance."

* * * * * *
March 5, 1999
Cabal Hotel, room 2133
1:35am

Mulder sat. Shrouded in darkness, he sat and waited. The room was not
unlike the hundreds of hotel rooms the he had frequented over the years,
a small, four walled cube of a room, smelling of antiseptic, and devoid
of a personal touch. Diana hadn't been there when he arrived, and for
the second time in as many weeks, he had let himself in. But unlike the
previous time, he found something.

Why hadn't he learned a lesson from Pandora and kept the box closed? He
was beginning to wish he had just waited for her in the lobby. He didn't
want to know what he now knew. "I never wanted to believe it could be
true."

His eyes painfully scanned the paper again. The words seemed to leap out
and literally take hold of his heart, squeezing, and twisting within his
chest until it was almost to the breaking point. "The subject..." always
'the subject' He scanned the paper. They only referred to her using her
name twice. All of the other times it was simply 'the subject.' The
words removed, dispassionate, no hint at the person behind them.

The word began to run up and over and around on the page as a wave of
nausea washed over him. He closed his eyes, looking away for the first
time since he had recovered the report. It was no use. His curse of
memory prevented him from forgetting, even for a moment. The words and
sentences continued to swim behind his eyelids. "...the most likely
candidate for conversion.","...subject out performs any of the other
participants.", "...intensive tests conducted four years ago..."

And those were her words. Mulder studied the name at the bottom of the
sheet. Diana Fowley. Right there, in black and white, was her name.
Attached to a report outlining the tests that had been done on Scully
four years ago, the surveillance used to monitor her, and he realized
belatedly, him, and the plans for what was to come...

It was all coming together. Diana's studies of the MUFON members...Her
reactions relating to Cassandra. He felt like the fool he was.

He had not wanted to believe. It was as simple as that. For the first
time in his life he had wanted to not believe, even with the evidence
presented to him. And what had it cost him?

The jiggle of the door handle interrupted his thoughts. The door swung
open and Diana strolled in, takeout in her hand. She set the food on the
table near the door and casually tossed her coat on the bed without
really looking. She was heading to the bathroom when she noticed out
of the corner of her eye that her briefcase had been opened and the
contents were now scattered haphazardly at the foot of the bed. She
slowly moved her eyes from the bed and looked directly to Mulder's hard
gaze. He noted that she did not seem surprised at his sudden appearance
in her room.

His gaze was intense and unwavering, and she met it directly for an
eerily long time, wondering what he might be thinking. Mulder broke the
silence that had engulfed the room. "Thanks for the note."

"What note?" She asked. She seemed genuinely confused.

"Oh, that little note that said 'Hey Mulder, just a little note to let
you know that I'm alive. You didn't send me to my death.'" He rose to
his feet, and for the first time Diana could see his face in the light.
She immediately wished that he would go back to his corner.

"I couldn't tell you. I'm sorry for that. But I had my reasons."

He held up the report in his hand and looked accusingly at her. With
sarcasm heavy on his voice, he spoke again. "Ah, yes, your 'reasons'. I
read all about them. It seems that your work was not yet done, was it?"

She closed her eyes briefly, as guilt flitted across her face.
"Fox...it...it wasn't like that...I only barely managed to escape
myself...and..." She trailed off, unsure how to explain herself, and
beginning to doubt that she ever could.

"And what?"

"And..." She shrugged her shoulder's helplessly. "And I don't know." She
motioned to the report he held tightly in his hand. "You've read it."

"Yes, I have. It has been very enlightening to say the least. How long
Diana? How long have you worked for *them*? Since the beginning?"

"Since the beginning." She repeated, voice heavy.

He had expected some sort of evasion; this brought him up short. He
quickly recovered. "And the X-files?" It was a question, but he already
knew her answer.

"You did not find them by accident." She admitted.

Mulder sat back down in the chair. Diana cautiously sat on the edge of
the bed, body tense, and stared intently at Mulder. She didn't speak,
instead, she waited for him to absorb her news. Finally, he spoke again,
the pain and anguish easily read in his eyes. "And my memories? My
memories of my sister? You were there, you encouraged me..." He stopped
as the implications sunk in.

"Your memories are true. They were not manipulated nor given to you. I
was only there to make sure that they were recovered."

He sighed, and for a moment was relived by this news. But then a
realization struck. "You know that I can't believe anything you say."

It was her turn to sigh. "I know that. I don't expect you to."

"Why her? Why Scully? And why now?"

Diana motioned to the papers in his hand and those scattered next to her
on the bed. "You read why. You know why she was picked."

"Why *you* picked her." He stressed pointedly. "I have a feeling that
there is something more than what I'm reading."

Her voice was flat, stilted. "You think that this was somehow
personal..."

"I'm beginning to wonder." His words were deceptively casual.

"It wasn't like that. It was never was." She sighed. "Scully is our best
hope, our only hope." She paused and met Mulder's hard gaze. "Fox, they
found out about Cassandra. They found out that we have the technology,
and they are expecting us to produce results."

He seeming candor was still startling to him. "The aliens?"

She nodded. "Yes. And they are expecting us to deliver on our end of the
bargain. If we don't..."

"If we don't...then what happens?"

She ignored his question. Instead, she moved off the bed and half knelt
before him. She took his hand in hers and carefully unfurled the fist
that was grasping the report and smoothed the crumpled papers, and set
the papers to the side. She rested one hand on his, gingerly, and took a
good, long look at the floor before looking up, trying to look into his
eyes. Mulder turned his head slightly, refusing, but he didn't take his
hands away.

When she spoke, her voice was soft, reassuring. "Fox, we need her. She's
the only way, the only chance we have. The only way that any of us can
survive. She will save us both."

"At what cost? Her humanity?" He spat out. He forcefully pulled his
hands from hers, and stood up. Diana was just barely able to get out of
his way.

"How can you be a part of this? How can you let them do these things to
innocent people? I thought I knew you. " His voice abruptly dropped from
a shout, to a mere whisper. "I guess I didn't know you at all..."

Diana walked to Mulder and placed her hand to his arm. "Fox--" She
began. He violently shrugged her off. "Don't." His voice raised once.
"Don't ever touch me again."

His back was to her, when he spoke again. "Can you help me? Will you
help me?"

"Fox...I can't...If I thought that there was any other way..." Her voice
trailed off.

Mulder turned and studied her face for a moment. "That is what you
honestly believe." He dropped his head with this realization. "That
means you won't help me then." He looked back up to her. "Is this how
I'm nullified? All those that I mistakenly believed were on my side
betray me? And I'm left with no one?"

His words had an unbelievable sting to them. She visibly grimaced.
Mulder did not see her reaction. "I can't help you, even if I could it
is already too late. Plans have been set in motion that I am unable to
halt. But--" She broke off.

"But what?" Mulder asked bitterly.

On impulse, she decided to continue. If she could save him from her
fate..."But, you need to know something. This meeting...you finding me
was no accident. You discovering the reports...this was not mere
happenstance. This was all a part of a well coordinated plan."

"And you telling me is a part of this plan?" He asked sharply.

"No, it isn't. I'm telling you this...I'm telling you this because I
don't want what happened to me to happen to you. The smoking man will
approach you in a day or two, with an offer...don't accept it; don't
believe him."

"I would never--"

She interrupted. "He will promise you things...he will offer all that
you have ever wanted. But don't trust his words. You can't trust him."

"Why are you telling me this? Of all things?"

"We all face choices in our lives. I regret mine; I don't want you to
make the same mistakes I did."

"What mistakes were those?"

She just shook her head. "I can't tell you anything else. Just remember,
don't trust what he has to say."

Mulder scoffed. "And I should trust you?"

"Fox...I'm sorry, I can't give you anything else..."

Mulder walked over to the papers and began to gather them up to take
with him. "Since I was meant to see them anyway..." But he paused in his
efforts. "Are these even real? If I was meant to see them--" He stopped
himself and looked expectantly at Diana.

She answered his unasked question. "They are true. It was put together
without us knowing you would ultimately see it. When the smoking man
read it, he felt...he felt that it would make his offer all the more
meaningful."

Mulder walked to the door and opened it. He had come with such high
hopes...

He was almost out the door when she spoke again, halting his progress.
"Fox, it wasn't all a lie."

He slowly turned around and they stood facing each other. "What wasn't a
lie?"

Diana met his eyes. "Things I said...Fox I did love you..." She stopped.
She saw a flicker of something... emotion, a memory, caring? She wasn't
sure, but she saw it pass over his eyes before he closed them to her.

He turned away without looking at her again. He spoke, voice verging on
a whisper. "You know that I can't believe anything you say." And he shut
the door firmly behind him.

She found herself staring at the door by the time she found words to
speak again. Her voice cracked slightly. "I know that. I can't expect
you to."

* * * * * *
After giving herself s few minutes to recover, she placed her call.

"Sir? This is Agent Fowley. He's just left."

His voice was pleased. "Excellent. Did it is go as planned?"

"Yes, he recovered the report and discovered my duplicity."

"And his spirit?"

She hesitated only for a moment. "Sufficiently broken. I believe that
your plans for him will be able to be carried out."

She could hear his glee through the phone line. It made her feel
nauseous. "Excellent. Then we can proceed with the plans. I will contact
him shortly."

He hung up abruptly, leaving her with the dead phone still grasped
firmly in her hand. She slowly replaced it back in its cradle. Feeling
suddenly bereft of strength, from the confrontation with Mulder as well
as the ramifications from it, she collapsed onto the soft comfort of the
awaiting bed.

Mulder was in a dangerous place; she could see it. She'd been there
before. But she had made the wrong choice. She prayed that with her
warning he would make the right one.

She remembered the moment vividly. There are times in one's lives where
everything changes. These moments in history often pass without
acknowledgement, nor the proper significance. It is only years later,
that when one looks back on the intricate tapestry of one's life, that
that single moment, that single thread in time, changed the weave of all
that followed.

This was not what happened in this particular moment in her life. She
knew from the moment she saw the man, casually leaning against her
apartment building, smoking his cigarette, that everything was about to
change. And at that time she was relieved. They were offering her what
she most wanted. The tests would stop, the abductions halted, they would
leave her alone. All she had to do was to 'get to know' a nice young man
with an odd name of Fox. She had agreed, thinking herself saved, but in
reality she simply traded one nightmare for another.

She had been quite happy at first. Sure, there was a lingering guilt
each time she filed a report, but it was far outweighed by the absence
of fear and pain that had plagued her, her whole life. The fear of going
to sleep one night in her bed, and waking up three days later in a corn
field. The pain that filled her as the memories of what happened during
those missing days came back to her.

Yes, those first few years where very nice. She had an excellent job at
the FBI, easily obtained through her sources of course, and she had Fox.
He was a man driven by something dark and hidden within him. He had
recognition within the FBI gained from his uncanny and sometimes
'spooky' ability to profile and catch criminals. He was advancing
quickly up the chain of command, but had slowly decided it was time to
venture out on his own to explore. And, hey, he was handsome, witty and
he had a sharp mind to boot. It was hardly a chore monitoring his
activities. He treated her decent, a hell a lot better than many of her
previous 'real' boyfriends. He didn't run around on her, the sex was
excellent, hell, he even managed to remember her birthday one year, even
if it was two weeks late...

And they worked well together. They were solving crimes and during some
moments, before she had time to reflect, she felt normal. She forgot
about the shadowy government, and the secrets she held away from the
world. Instead she focused on her work in the FBI, and on her boyfriend.

But ultimately, that was her down fall. She forgot...

Her assignment was simple: Keep him away from anything of importance,
get him involved with cases that would only fuel his paranoia but
nothing else; earn his trust. She was sent to distract him, by whatever
means available to her as a woman. It had seemed merely like a
baby-sitting job to her. That was of course before she fell in love with
him.

She had been so new. She had had no way of preparing herself for Fox.
She laughed at that memory. "Preparing myself for Fox?" She doubted
that anyone could prepare themselves for Fox. His passion for everything
he did, his intelligence, his charisma, and all of those years ago, his
astonishing naivete. Looking back now, it was almost hard to imagine him
that way, with his fragile innocence still intact. But she remembered
it. He had been the only one she knew like that. Everyone else that she
worked with was burdened by the truth. She remembered how refreshing it
felt to be with someone who wasn't jaded or worn down by the truth.

She called up and image of Fox's face from only moments before. No,
there wasn't any innocence left in him. He was beginning to get
embittered, she could see it. She hoped that her warning had been
enough to stop him. But she feared that with this latest news, and
without the support of his partner, he would succumb to the pressures
exerted on him.

Yes, she was all too aware of Mulder and Scully's relationship. Everyone
knew, and everyone used it to exploit them both. Even her...But not this
time. This time she had to do what was required of her, and that meant
choosing Scully.

Scully was the best that they had. So few left after the cancer, and the
fires...No, it had to be Scully, she was the only one that they could
use. Diana remembered the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when
she had discovered this, and how much worse it had grown when she had
told the smoking man. He had grinned his trademark grimace as he puffed
on his cigarette. "This couldn't have worked out better..."He had said,
and began to lay out the plans to finally win Mulder over, or finally
break him.

And she had just stood there, and agreed with the plans.

She had had the same tight feeling in her chest, as she had had ten year
earlier when they had informed her that she was no longer being assigned
to Fox.

They had found out about her feeling toward him, and it couldn't be
tolerated. She began to let things slide, let him see things that he
shouldn't have...she'd gotten reckless. To fall for a man like Fox...it
hadn't been wise. She risked her life as well a Fox's with her
foolishness.

'Luckily', her mind scoffed at that term, they had not simply killed
her. Instead, she was transferred as far away from Fox as possible. She
had barely had time to say goodbye to him, and she knew that her abrupt
departure had hurt him, but she knew that if she had stayed he would
have been hurt much worse. They had threatened as much.

She was sent on her next assignment. Cataloging and studying, and
witnessing experiments conducted on women across Europe. Yes the powers
that be had quite the twisted humor. With each women she talked with,
with each woman she watched the experiments be performed one, she was
forced to relive her own experiences. And these times, just like her own
experiences, she was powerless to stop.

She tried once, and only once, to save one of the women. It had been an
utter failure. The woman had ended up dead, and Diana had 'disappeared'
for months. She still had no clear idea what was done to her in that
time, but the threats that hovered menacingly over her head implied a
great deal. "It's a shame about all of those women dying of that
horrible cancer. It is a rather horrid way to go...wouldn't you say
Agent Fowley?" Yes the intent was clear.

That had been her only act of rebellion. It took years for her to regain
her status within the group, but now she was high in the ranks, high
enough that if she rebelled now...But she halted that thought. If there
was any other way...but there wasn't. Scully was it. If they didn't hand
her over, no one would survive. And the survival of the species did not
mean that each member of that species must survive.
* * * * * *
6:24 am

Diana woke to the jarring chirp of her cell phone. She didn't realize at
first that she had even fallen asleep. She groggily got up and reached
for her coat that had fallen from the bed to the floor. She padded the
coat down awkwardly, searching by touch. On the tenth ring, she answered
the phone.

"Fowley." Her voice was still gravelly from sleep.

"Yes, Diana Fowley? This is Dr. Ken Dagen."

"Who?" Her mind was still fogged.

"Dr. Dagen. We worked together on the study...on the subjects?"

She mentally went through her index, trying to match name to face. She
was drawing a blank. Wait... now she remembered him. A thoughtful man
with a sensitive face and soft-spoken manner. He was the guy who
isolated the gene from that Praise boy... very smart. That was why she
had picked him to work with her on the selection process. She also
remembered a conversation with him; one in which both hinted at a mutual
dissatisfaction with the way their lives had turned out. Her grogginess
slipped away quickly with this realization.

"I remember you. Do you need something?"

"I'm not sure if you can help me..."

"Spit it out." She did not feel like playing games.

"We had a conversation a week or two ago..."

"Yes, I remember." She led him, impatient.

"We both expressed a...desire...if you will, to have a second chance? I
believe I have that second chance. I have found another way."

* * * * * *