"I'm sorry, Mulder. I simply can't allow it."
Mulder was sitting across from Phoebe in her office at Scotland Yard. "You know my feelings about this whole thing, and I'm certainly not going to enable you and your wife to perpetuate this fantasy."
"It isn't a fantasy, Phoebe," Mulder shot back. "Even if you don't believe that I saw Meena at Harrods', you can't discount the fact that Scully saw her the other night at dinner."
"Based on what, Mulder? A scar on the young woman's chin?" Phoebe replied.
"A distinguishing mark, Phoebe - one of the criteria we use in identifying suspects - suspects, Phoebe. We're talking about my wife and my daughter."
"Mulder," Phoebe began. "Let us use the lab, Phoebe." Mulder replied. "You once said that if there was anything you could do for me..."
"How dare you presume to use our friendship in such a manner?" Phoebe shot back. "How dare you put me in this position? You're asking me to compromise my position, my reputation here at the Yard for what amounts to a search for a needle in the proverbial haystack. And then to inject someone you think is your long missing daughter with a mind-altering drug. This is a public relations nightmare that I will not allow to happen, and most certainly not while you and your wife are a guest in my house!"
"A situation I am more than happy to rectify by leaving as soon as possible," Mulder replied.
Mulder rose to leave when Phoebe reached across the desk to stop him. "Mulder, wait. This is.... This is not the way things should be between us. Please - continue to stay at Brittlegate as my guest. You and Scully. But you have to understand that this puts me in a very awkward situation. If I could help you, I would. But there's just no way around this. You'll have to find another way."
Mulder stood up. "Don't worry, I will. I just thought I wouldn't have to."
The door to the adjoining office opened two minutes after Mulder left. "That was a very nice touch at the end, Lady Montague," Krycek said. "It would have been very upsetting to the person I work for if Mulder and his wife were not where one could keep an eye on them."
"I really don't care what you or your associate think," replied Phoebe. "Oh, but I think you should," Krycek replied. "I think you should care very much what we think, and especially what others might think of you." Phoebe turned to face Krycek. "Oh, I wouldn't look so shocked, Lady Montague. I'm sure you're well aware of the damage it would do to your reputation if word got out that the Yard's most valued employee embezzled funds from her late husband's charity. Oh, I know that you had every intention to pay it back as soon as you could, but running an estate is quite an expensive task. I wonder how you would ever dig yourself out from under the mountain of debt you've amassed since your husband's demise..." Phoebe raised a hand to strike her accuser, but Krycek stopped it in mid-air with his own. "And of course there is the issue of poor, poor Lord Montague's demise."
"It was an accident. The autopsy proved it. The inquest cleared me of any wrongdoing," Phoebe began. "Oh yes, I'm well aware of that," Krycek replied, "But evidence has the nastiest habit of popping up when you least expect it. Especially if it's carefully manufactured to fit the crime. A skill at which my associate is quite adept."
Phoebe pulled her arm out of Krycek's grip. "It has served me well, Lady Montague," replied Krycek, "especially of late, to remember exactly who it was that I was dealing with. You'd do well to remember the same."
****************************************************************************
Scully thought it best not to accompany Mulder to Phoebe's office. She thought her husband would have a better chance of pleading their case alone than if she was there. And although she knew it was important, she simply couldn't bring herself to ask something of a woman who had worked so hard to destroy her marriage. She just didn't have it in her.
Scully instead went to Notting Hill, walking the streets of the trendy little town in an effort to clear her mind. She looked in shop windows without seeing their displays; walked into stores without really seeing their wares. She smiled ever so slightly and shook her head when proprietors would ask if she needed any help or if they could suggest a book or a nick-knack. She simply didn't hear them
She had other things on her mind.
As a doctor, she knew that no medical procedure, no treatment came completely without risk. Aspirin could lead to intestinal bleeding, penicillin could cause allergic reactions that could lead to hives and death in the worst case. Every treatment had its own risks. But risks were easy to ignore and easy to discount when you weren't talking about your own daughter.
Scully stopped in front of a bookstore window, looking in the window and at her own faint reflection in it. Looking for answers that seemed just beyond her grasp.
"I believe it was you who told me someone you love is thinking about you when your clasp is turned to the front - was it not?"
Scully turned to her left. She stood face to face with Meena, who was pushing a baby in a carriage.
Her grandson.
"Looks like it's your turn now." Meena replied. Scully stood there speechless. "I'm sorry - maybe I was mistaken." Meena began to leave. "Sorry to trouble you..."
"No, wait; no you're not mistaken," Scully blurted out. She raised her hand to her throat in an effort to find the clasp, but the normally unflappable Scully was so nervous that she couldn't find the clasp. "May I?" Meena asked as she reached towards Scully. "It gives me the chance to return the favor." Scully nodded. Meena rolled the carriage so that it was next to the two of them, and then reached for the necklace around Scully's throat. "There you go." Meena said after she was done. "That's a lovely crucifix," Meena replied. "It's very simple, delicate." Scully fingered the crucifix at her throat - the same crucifix her mother had given her when she was thirteen; the same crucifix she had given her own daughter when she was the same age.
The same crucifix she had removed from her daughter's neck when she thought she had died before her very eyes.
"Faith can be a very delicate thing, can't it?" Meena asked. "Delicate, yet strong almost at the same time. But it only takes a little bit of faith to make it through the darkest of times, doesn't it?"
"Yes; yes it does" Scully replied.
The baby in the carriage began to fuss. "Well, it seems that someone wants to join in the conversation," Meena said as she picked up the baby. "Who's our little fussy-budget, hmm? Who's our little fussy-budget..." It took everything in Scully not to gasp. It was the same thing she'd say to Meena when she would fuss.
Scully looked at Meena, and noticed that she frowned a little bit. "Are you alright?" asked Scully. "Yes; I'm fine, thank you. Just my constant companion these days."
"Excuse me?" questioned Scully.
"It's nothing - it's a headache. I'm under a doctor's care for it, but it doesn't seem to be working...." The baby suddenly squirmed, and turned to face Scully. He reached for the necklace around Scully's neck, but Meena pulled back slightly so that it was just out of reach. "No, that's ok," Scully replied. "He's not the first baby to reach for this necklace. It's alright."
When Meena pulled away, the baby began to fuss ever louder. He reached with two cubby little hands for Scully, squirming as he did to escape his mother's grasp. "Well, he certainly is flirting with you today," Meena replied. She paused for a moment before her next statement.
"Would you... Would you hold him for just a minute? It's about time for his bottle - I think that's why he's being such a fusspot. It would just be until I get his bottle."
Scully couldn't speak. She simply nodded, and reached toward Meena for the baby. The baby went willingly, cooing, laughing and giggling as soon as he was in her arms. She smelled the familiar baby smells of powder and lotion; felt the soft fleshiness of his chubby little arms and legs. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to cry tears of joy and pain. "He's beautiful; simply beautiful," Scully said quietly.
"Oh, but he's a handful," Meena replied cheerfully. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. I've always had this sense that I am so fortunate to have him - it's almost as if I had lost him, and that he was given back to me. I never take him for granted."
"Nor should you," Scully replied. Scully reluctantly tried to hand the baby back to his mother, but the baby would have none of it. "Well, it looks like you're going to need to feed him," Meena replied. "I'm sorry - I haven't even introduced myself. My name's Meena Cartwright; this is my son, Nigel. I feel so bad; we've known each other such a short time, and already my son and I have taken over your life."
"You were already a part of my life," Scully thought.
Scully looked up from feeding the baby - her grandson - to notice that Meena was watching with a slight frown. "Are you sure you don't want to do this?" Scully asked. "No; no - it's alright. Headache again."
"What does your doctor say?" inquired Scully. "He says I should finish the two treatments I have left, and stop complaining," Meena replied. "I was supposed to have a treatment today, but... I'm afraid I bolted. Left the office without so much as a by-your-leave."
Meena looked at Scully holding her son, and noticed that he was halfway done with his bottle. "I'm afraid he's a slow eater sometimes," Meena said. "It's alright," replied Scully, "I don't mind." "At least let me buy you a cup of tea. There's a lovely tea shop around the corner. I usually go there when I'm in the neighborhood..."
Meena and Scully heard the ringing from the baby's diaper bag. "Excuse me for one second, won't you?" Meena replied. Meena reached into the bag, and pulled out her cel phone. "This is Meena," she said as she answered. "Yes.... Notting Hill; why? What's wrong? Alright then; I'll be right there." Meena hung up the phone. "I'm afraid I must go. That was my husband..."
"I hope everything's alright?" Scully replied.
"I'm sure it is," answered Meena, "He just wants me to come home right away - he says he has some important news."
Scully had to call upon her strength again in order to return the baby-her grandson-back to his mother. "We'll have to have the tea some other time, I suppose," Meena said. "Yes," Scully said, "I would like that very much."
"Well, it was lovely to see you again," Meena said. She put Nigel in his carriage to prepare him for the trip home. Meena started to leave when she remembered something. "Wait," She said as she turned around. "I didn't get your name..."
The woman she was speaking to, the woman who had held her baby s tenderly as though it were her own, had vanished.
The tears had started as Scully watched Meena place her grandson in his carriage. She left quickly, darting into an alleyway just down the street. It was in this alleyway, in a recessed doorway, that Scully let the tears flow freely down her face and to the ground below.