Due in large part to that morning's events, breakfast was silent and mercifully quick. The trio sat at the breakfast table, all silent as rocks; however if someone had been able to amplify their thoughts, their unspoken words, and their angst, the cacophony would have been deafening. Mulder racked his brain in search of a way and a time when he could tell his wife what almost happened in the beautifully groomed English garden; Scully's brain screamed in impatient desperation as she debated head over heart whether she should confront Mulder about the incident she thought she saw.

Phoebe wondered if, in light of what had transpired, whether she should have served Eggs Benedict for breakfast.

Once again, Phoebe thought only as far as her own myopic needs and desires, as was her nature.

Scully stood up after having barely taken two bites of her breakfast. "If you'll excuse me, Phoebe, is there a car I can use? I'd like to go into London. I have to pick up some things." "Of course," Phoebe replied, "I'll have Darcy bring the car around." Mulder stood up immediately. "I'll go with you," Mulder interjected. He paused. "I thought maybe we could see the sights we missed. The ones we haven't seen yet. Together."

Scully's heart leapt at the thought; nothing at that moment would have made her happier than the prospect of just the two of them, alone together, riding through the countryside to London and seeing what the crown jewel of Great Britain had to offer. Yet the statement that fell from her lips didn't sound anything at all like she had planned.

"Suit yourself," Scully replied.

Scully paused to look at Mulder and Phoebe. "I'll be down in a moment." Mulder watched achingly as his wife walked further and further away. Before Phoebe could say anything, Mulder told Phoebe he would be waiting for his wife outside.

Phoebe looked after Mulder as he left the room. She placed her elbows on the table, and rested her chin on her fingertips. "Yes, Mulder. It's only a matter of time now."

A lifetime passed as the chauffeur driven Rolls Royce sped through the countryside. Mulder and Scully said nothing to each other although their individual body language screamed for attention. They tried to reach other, to connect in so many ways, but did not. As Mulder faced the window, Scully saw a stray strand of hair move perilously close to his eye; as she reached to move it, Mulder waved it and her hand away.

He never saw her gesture.

Scully turned to face the window on her side of the car. When Mulder turned around, he saw Scully's hand resting on the seat between them. It seemed like forever before he worked up the nerve to reach for it; just as he did, Scully moved her hand to brush away a stray hair. She let her hand fall into her lap.

She never saw his gesture.

And so it continued, a series of near-misses, close-connects, best efforts, until they reached London.

They never saw their gestures at all.

Scully signaled the driver a block from Harrod's department store. "Darcy, would you stop here, please?" Mulder moved to get out of the car when Scully stopped him. "If you don't mind, Mulder, I need some time alone - there's some errands I need to run. Why don't we meet back here in about two hours?" Mulder sat dumbfounded as she got out of the car, and walked quickly up the street. Before long, she was lost in the crowd and disappeared from his sight.

"Shall we drive on, sir?" asked the chauffeur. The blaring of car horns finally caught Mulder's attention. "Harrod's is a block away. I could drop you there, sir, if you'd like?"

Mulder finally answered him, his thoughts elsewhere. "Yes," he replied. "Harrods is fine."

Meena had every intention of seeing Dr. Moriarty that morning, but neither she nor the baby got any sleep the night before. Andrew had let both of them sleep in, and by the time Nigel's cries woke her up, the morning was almost over. although it was late, Meena was able to get enough food in her young son despite the baby's best efforts to clothe his mother head to toe in oatmeal and applesauce. She bathed him and herself and got both of them dressed. It wasn't easy, but she managed and she didn't mind. For some reason, every time she looked at her son, she had the strange feeling his presence was a gift she had been given back, and she relished it. "Well now, Mr. Pudge," Meena said as she held her son high overhead, "what say you to a little ride in the c-a-r to the t-r-a-i-n?" The baby giggled and squealed with delight. "Yes!" Meena replied. "Mummy has to go to London to buy a new frock, and maybe something for little baby Nigel! Yes!"

Meena secured the baby in the rear child car seat, and drove both of them to the transit station. Baby Nigel looked out of the window, transfixed at the scenery as the train whizzed by. The train finally made it to the center of London, a few blocks away from Harrod's department store. He sat quietly in his stroller and without fuss as Meena made her way through the shopping emporium, and the store clerks "ooh'd" and "ah'd" at every little face he made.

Because he had been such an angel, Meena wheeled Nigel over to the toy department and picked out a toy. When she went to pay for her purchase, the sales clerk noticed she was laden with a lot of packages. "Would you like to have those delivered, 'mam?" asked the sales clerk. "We can have them to you by six p.m. tonight..." "I'd love to, but I've just bought a dress that I'll need for tonight," "Meena replied." "Very well, then, I can ask them to put a rush on it. You just look like you have your hands full." "Yes," Meena replied, "You're right. Yes, I think that's a good idea." "Let me just get your name and address," replied the clerk, "and we'll get things started." "Last name is Cartwright," Meena replied. "First name M-E-E-N-A..." "M-I-N-A?" asked the sales clerk. "As in short for `Wilhelmina'?"

A sharp, stabbing pain went through Meena's head like hot steel.

"Are you alright, 'mam?" asked the sales clerk. "Yes," replied Meena slowly. "You're right. M-I-N-A."

The last time Mulder had been in Harrods, he was a student at Oxford. He'd gone there to buy an add-a-bead necklace for his girlfriend, Phoebe Greene. Money was tight. As it was, he had to work extra hours in the Psych lab and take on more students to tutor than he really had time for, but somehow he was able to do it. He took the money that he had scrimped and saved by cutting back on sleep and food and bought a three-bead, add-a-bead necklace. One 14 carat gold bead flanked by two pearl beads on either side, suspended by a gold chain - and not the flimsy, cheap kind. It was solid and strong. He gave it to her that evening during the candlelight picnic he had set up in his graduate school digs, presenting it to her on a china plate he had "borrowed" from the faculty dining hall. "Really, Fox," she said, and held the chain suspended between two fingers.

They broke up three days later, and Mulder didn't completely accept it until he saw Phoebe's flat-mate wearing the "new gift" Phoebe gave her for her birthday.

Although it had been a number of years since then, Harrods still remained basically the same as he remembered it. Mulder wandered through the floors and departments, seeing things, but not seeing them. He was still preoccupied with Scully; he still wondered exactly why she decided she'd rather be alone in a crowd of strangers than be with him. He had to do something, say something to at least try to bridge the gap between them, but he didn't know where to start. He didn't know if it was too late.

In his travels, Mulder found himself in the toy section. He really stumbled upon it, and he was almost shocked that he was there. Since the events of six months ago, he found it hard to look at toys, to go to parks. Sometimes, hearing a child's laughter was almost too much to bear. Mulder found himself in front of a display of stuffed animals- a veritable menagerie of fuzzy elephants and bunnies with pink noses. Mulder absent-mindedly picked up an over-stuffed teddy bear with a button nose and kind eyes. He smiled weakly as he thought about how much his grandson would have loved it. Mulder put the bear back among its poly-filled friends. As he looked up, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

There was a young woman standing at the counter about twenty feet away. He saw her raise an infant with red hair high in the air, and bring it gently down near her face. The baby giggled with glee as she repeated the motion once more. The second time she brought the baby down, she turned her cheek to place it next to her child's.

It was the woman and child he'd seen at Heathrow the day before. And in that instant, Mulder was certain the woman was Meena.

"Now, is little Nigel ready to go home?" Meena said as she placed her child in his stroller. "Mummie's so pleased at how good her little boy's been - yes!" Just as she strapped him in and prepared to leave, she heard a voice in the distance.

"Meena!"

She looked around, but couldn't see who was calling to her. She walked four steps before she heard the voice again.

"Meena!!!"

She looked around, and saw a man moving quickly in her direction. Just as he got closer, she felt a slight twinge of pain near her temple. She stood there and tried to massage the pain away.

"Meena! Wait!"

The man finally reached her. He was tall, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He had a boyish face, and the only thing that gave away his age was the gray at his temples. He reached out for her when he reached her, almost as though he were reaching for a ghost.

"Meena..." he replied, almost in a whisper. As he reached for her, she took a step back.

"Yes?" she answered.

The man said nothing, and it was almost as if he'd stopped breathing, almost as if he was afraid to breathe. He looked down at the infant that was now asleep in his stroller. "The baby..." he said slowly. "Oh, my God..." The man reached down to pick up the child when Meena pulled the stroller back sharply. As she did so, she noticed that the man looked extremely hurt, and she found herself regretting her actions. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?" She asked. The man suddenly grabbed her by the arm. "It's alright, Meena. You're safe. I'm here now; your mother's here..." "My mother?!" replied Meena. Suddenly, the sharp pain returned at her temple. "Who are you?!" she demanded, "What kind of sick joke is this?! My mother and father are dead..."

The man tried to pull her towards him. "That's what they told you?" he asked. "Meena, honey..." Meena began to panic as her headache grew worse. "Let go of me!" she yelled as she yanked her arm away. "Stay away from me! Get away from me!!!!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!"