Although Meena wished she hadn't agreed to do this for her friend, she was thankful for the escape.

Meena spent the forty-five minutes she should have used to get ready looking for her wedding album. She started in the closets, looking through boxes, moving clothes around, and looking in suitcases. She moved on from there to the dresser, searching through drawers back to front. Drew found Meena in the guest bedroom, where she had emptied the contents of each drawer and box and was sitting in the midst of the melee.

"I suspect you really don't want to go to this affair tonight," he said.

"We promised Charlotte and Roger we'd go," Meena replied.

"But you haven't even begun to get ready, and you haven't fed the baby yet," he shot back.

"Funny, Drew," she replied, "I don't see any impediments keeping you from than job."

"Sweetheart, why the sudden interest in finding a silly photo album?" asked Drew.

Meena stared at him in disbelief. She stood up, trying to rub yet another headache out of her system. "I'm so glad you feel that way about one of the only extant records of our union that isn't our child. And if you dare do something as stupid as to question whether Nigel is yours," Meena said before Drew could reply, "I will smack you silly."

Meena brushed past Drew on her way to the Master Bedroom. The delivery from Harrods arrived while she was searching for their wedding album, and Drew had placed it in the middle of their bed.

"Honey, I'm really worried about these headaches," Drew replied.

"Then don't give them to me," Meena replied as she took her dress out of the Harrods wrapper. "How am I giving them to you, sweetheart?" he replied. "I've done nothing but tried to be supportive, especially of late. It isn't my fault that you didn't go to see Dr. Moriarty today; and quite frankly, I don't see where the headaches are my fault. And it's not like I haven't had them as well," he continued. "In fact, I've got a real ripper of a headache right now...!"

Meena stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She managed to pull herself together and get dressed in a half an hour, and was annoyed when she saw Drew had not used the guest bathroom to get ready.

"I'm not going," he replied as Meena stood in front of her. "Not with this headache. And I can't believe you're insisting on going if you still feel the way you do."

"I feel just fine," Meena lied. "I made a promise to our friends," she said as she grabbed her wrap, "and I intend to keep my end of the bargain even if you won't."

Meena pulled up to Sternwood castle, twenty minutes past fashionably late. She gave the keys to the valet, and hurried across the drawbridge into the great hall. They were closing down the reception table when she handed the greeter the invitation, but she was still able to make her way inside. They were able to find her a seat at a table in the far corner of the room and although they had begun to clear away the plates, the waiter was able to bring her dinner from the kitchen. Although she thanked him for the effort, her headache was so intense that she couldn't eat. She picked at the filet mingion, finally surrendering after two bites. She sipped at the champagne, but the headache made everything taste flat to the point of nausea.

"Mum," the waiter said as he took her plate away, "We're asking everyone to move closer to the dance floor in order to close up some of the gaps. Would you be so kind as to move closer? There's a table over there." The waiter pointed to the Northeast corner of the floor. "I've waited on them, and they seem to be a lovely group. There's even a couple from America who seems simply smashing." Meena nodded, and moved to the table. By the time she made her way across the room and to her new table, all of its occupants had left; Meena assumed they were all out on the dance floor. Meena listened as the band played "Moonlight Serenade," the selection the bandleader announced shortly before the waiter asked her to move. She watched as the crowd moved and glided across the floor, swept away by the dulcet strains of music. She closed her eyes.

"God, if these headaches would just go away!"

***********************************************************************

Scully stood on the threshold between the terrace and the great hall. Mulder came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Scully?" He soon discovered what it was. The music ended, and the crowd parted as they waited for the next set. Through the break in the crowd, Mulder and Scully stared across the dance floor at the woman at their table.

Meena. Their daughter, Meena, was sitting at their table.

"That's her, Scully...." Mulder moved to go towards the table when Scully stopped him. "Wait,

Mulder," Scully replied.

"Scully..."

"Mulder, we don't know what kind of mental state she's in. Seeing you again, seeing us together, might throw her into a psychotic break - you know that."

"We can't loose her again, Scully"

"And we won't." Scully answered. "Stay here. Promise you won't do anything until I get back." Mulder didn't answer. "Trust me, Mulder. Trust me as I trust you." Mulder nodded in agreement.

Scully made her way through the crowd as the band began another set. They had chosen Glenn Miller's "Little Brown Jug," and the floor filled quickly with eager dancers. Just before she made it to their table, Meena stood up, and began to leave. Scully almost reached her when Phoebe held her back.

"Well, I was beginning to wonder where you two were," Phoebe said as she grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Please, Phoebe; not now!" Scully replied. Scully didn't wait for an answer, but pushed forward.

Scully caught up to her daughter, separated only by two of the waitstaff who stood between them. Suddenly, the staff people made a quick turn left to go to another part of the castle, and Scully stood directly behind her daughter. Just as she went into the ladies' room, Scully caught a glimpse of the back of her neck. Meena's dark auburn locks were pulled up into a French Twist, and just next to an unruly tendril, Scully saw the mark.

It was a small puncture wound, located behind Meena's right ear. It was the site of numerous injections, and she had to stop herself from touching the mark in an effort to soothe it away.

Meena entered the ladies room and Scully stood outside. Scully the Agent fought with Scully the Mother as to what her next step should be.

Scully the Mother won. She followed her daughter inside.

**************************************************************

Meena ran the water, and grabbed a guest towel. She soaked a corner of it in the cool water, and pressed it to her temples, her forehead, and the back of her neck. Her headache, already bad, was made worse by the band's next piece. She also had visions of the young girl again, this time dancing with a tall, muscular man with glasses and what looked to be a balding head. She still couldn't make out a face, or who it was.

She couldn't go on this way; Drew was right. If the treatments had, for the most part, worked for Drew, then why didn't they work for her? Had she not tried enough? Had she not spent countless doctors visits, taken countless shots...? She fingered the small, raised scar behind her right ear. She just wished she had more to show for it - peace of mind would have been lovely.

The door to the ladies room opened, but she didn't notice the woman in the Midnight Blue evening dress with the red hair. The woman stood next to her and washed her hands in the basin next to hers.

"Someone you love is thinking of you," she said.

As soon as the woman in the Midnight Blue dress with the red hair spoke, the splitting headache that dogged Meena for countless hours in varying degrees stopped.

Her head was clear, and for the first time in a long time that day, Meena was completely at peace.

Meena looked over at the woman next to her. "I'm sorry?" she asked. The woman continued washing her hands, never looking up from her task.

"The clasp on your pendant is turned to the front," she said. "My grandmother always said that meant someone you love is thinking of you."

"Well," Meena said as she felt her neck for the clasp. "Let's hope someone we love is always thinking of us."

"They are," the woman said, "I know it."

Meena raised her head in an effort to feel for the clasp. "May I?" the woman said as Meena tilted her head back. "Please - thank you so much," she said. The woman stood next to her, tilting her head under her neck to get a better view. She gently took the clasp, and turned it back to where it was supposed to be. She took the pendant, and gingerly placed it in its proper location.

"There you go," she said.

Meena thought she sounded as though she was on the verge of tears. "Thank you," she said as she turned to face the woman.

But she wasn't there. The only thing Meena saw was the ladies room door as it closed. Meena never saw the woman's face, and the only thing she was left with was a profound sense of loss.

***********************************************************

Scully found Mulder standing next to their table. Phoebe came up to the table as she approached, and Scully began speaking before she could say a word.

"It's her, Mulder," she said. "It's Meena."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Phoebe asked.

"Our daughter is here," Mulder replied. "We saw her here, at this table."

"Your daughter...?! You mean the woman who almost pressed charges against you at Harrods? Certainly you can't be serious," Phoebe replied. She turned to face Scully.

"Scully, I should think that you'd have better sense than to support this folly."

"And I would think you'd have better sense than to test me right now, Phoebe," Scully replied. "A mother knows her own child, and knows when she's in trouble."

"And just what proof do you have of that?" Phoebe shot back. Scully ignored Phoebe, and instead directed her next comments to Mulder.

"It's just as you suspected. She's been brainwashed - I saw the site of the injections just behind her right ear. Do you remember when Meena was six? The scar is still there from when she fell out of the tree and hit the root - the small scar she has just under her chin."

"It's her, Mulder. It's Meena."

****************************************************************

Scully and Mulder waited at the table and planned for an inevitable reunion with their daughter. They didn't know how she would react; they knew she would be overwhelmed. It was a condition to which they could well relate - they were overjoyed and overwhelmed themselves. And even though it was their fervent hope it wouldn't happen, they were prepared for the heartbreaking possibility that she wouldn't remember them beyond her immediate interaction with them. But they had time and more than enough love to spare. The journey back to the past for Meena would be a difficult and uncertain one. The only thing they were certain of was that whatever the journey and wherever it took them, they would take it together, all three of them, as a family.

And so, they waited. Phoebe made periodic visits to the table in between being whisked off for a photo-op or an introduction to an official. As the seconds ticked away, Mulder and Scully grew impatient. As the seconds stretched into minutes, they grew increasingly concerned.

By the time ten minutes had passed, they knew something was terribly wrong.

Phoebe came back to the table yet again and her eyes, full of skepticism, bore into the couple like sunlight through a magnifying glass.

"Scully, Mulder..." she began.

"Don't," Scully interrupted. "Just don't. I know what I saw. You can say whatever you'd like, Phoebe. I know that was my daughter, there isn't a doubt in my mind she was my daughter, and nothing you say can change that. And I will not give up just because you think it prudent."

"You won't have to," Mulder replied. "Not if I can help it." He stood up. "Wait here."

"Where are you going?" asked Scully. Mulder brushed an errant strand from Scully's face.

"To find our daughter," he said.

The two women watched as Mulder made his way through the crowd, and he had barely been gone three seconds before Phoebe spoke. "This is absolute madness! Don't you think, you of all people, Scully, that you should be reasonable? Don't you think you've been through enough - that Mulder's been through enough?"

Scully stared her adversary down. "Were that the case," Scully replied, "that would be our decision and certainly not yours."

****************************************************************************

Meena decided that she had more than done her duty as a loyal friend. She contemplated for a brief second going back to the table for a few more minutes, but decided against it. She instead went to the cloakroom, traded her ticket for her wrap, and went outside. Drew's father was waiting for her when she crossed the drawbridge. "My son thought you might like a lift home," he said as he leaned against the sleek, white Jaguar. Seeing the concern on her face, he added "Nigel's in the car seat. He seemed to want to go for a ride, and I was more than happy to oblige. Hop in. I'll send somebody back for your car later." He put out his cigarette before he opened her car door.

"See," he added, "I really do listen. The welfare of my family is my utmost concern."

"Thank you," Meena replied as she got into the car. "I appreciate that."

The man with the curly, black, salt-and-pepper hair turned on the ignition. "Don't thank me yet. Drew told me about what happened before you left, and I'm afraid I had a small hand in your argument."

"I don't understand," Meena replied.

"I must confess that I borrowed your wedding album. I wanted to brag to some friends, and had hoped to have it back before it went missing. I'm afraid I'm guilty as charged."

"Oh," Meena replied, grateful for an explanation that seemingly filled in one of many gaps. "I can give it back to you tomorrow," he said. "Forgive a doting old man whose only sin was in wanting to show off his beautiful family."

"That's alright," Meena replied. "Just as long as I know where it is. It just bothered me not knowing - that's all." Meena leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You're too good to us."

As he pulled away, the cigarette-smoking man with the curly, black salt-and-pepper hair made a mental note to call his people to handle the wedding album issue. He paid good money to have people to take care of things like these, and take care of them, they would.

History was what you made of it, and when you controlled it, you could make it anything you liked.

****************************************************

Mulder began his search just outside the ladies room. He found one of the waitstaff who saw Meena exit the lavatory. The waitstaff led him to the cloakroom attendant, who led him to the courtyard and valet outside. Mulder described his daughter in detail to the attendant, who nodded his head in agreement as he gave his description. "Yes, sir. She was here. Got into a car - real nice Jag- it was with the gentleman who was waiting for her when she got out. I guess it was her father. He was an older gentleman with curly, black hair - salt-and-pepper hair.

Smoker," the valet continued. "Definitely a chain smoker."

Scully left Phoebe at the table, and went in search of her husband. She followed the same trail he had, and found him standing at the end of the drawbridge.

"I know who's behind this," Mulder said when Scully reached him. "It's him."

"Him...?" Scully began. She paused for a second. "Mulder, you don't mean.."

"Jeffery Spender," Mulder replied. "Yes; yes, I do."