Agent Simpson spotted her as she climbed the steps into the FBI headquarters.  He hurried after her and called out her name, catching her attention as she stood by the door.

"Good morning Agent Simpson."

"You know I've been working at the FBI for over twenty-three years and I'll never get used to people calling me Agent Simpson.  Call me Jack."  He held the door open for her and she swept by with a smile.  Closer now he could see that she looked tired but having survived a twenty-year marriage he knew better than to comment.

"How is Mulder doing?"

"He was released yesterday but he is still struggling with his memory."

"I can only imagine how difficult it is for him.  Mind you after the weekend I just had a little memory lapse wouldn't hurt."

"Tough one?" she asked smiling as they stepped onto the elevator.  She liked Agent Simpson and relaxed in his company.  He had worked with Mulder in the VCU and held no water to the gossip, having dealt with him on a first hand basis.  He respected Mulder for the work he had done and the ability he had proven.

"I guess I brought too much work home with me and I still kept rushing back here.  Let's just say my wife didn't appreciate it.  You're one of the lucky ones Ms. Scully, having escaped that particular trap."

            They stepped off the elevator and made their way to the centre table of the bullpen where Agent Watters was waiting for them.  His suit was somewhat dishelved and his face unshaven but neither of them commented.

"Agents Reilly and Salmon are at Rikers trying to see if any other connections can be made from that angle."

            Scully and Simpson exchanged a quick glance before sitting at the table.  Watters remained standing his hands gripping the back of a chair tightly as he leaned over it.

"I think I may have found something."  Simpson rummaged through his case as he looked for the right files, muffling his voice as he did.  "Professor Mark Wilde from C.S.U was arrested in 1963.  He was head of the Biology department at the time. And would have been one of Carson's Lecturers."

"What was he arrested for?" Watters asked impatiently.

"Miss appropriation of funds."

"How does that come into it?"

"He had been using the money to support a private lab that had been researching genetic manipulation.  It is reported that he was working on a hybrid technology that could remove the powerful or defensive attributes of one animal and grow them on another."

"What do you mean?" Scully asked.

"Venom sacks from a rattle snake on a tiger."

"In 1963 our knowledge of genetic material and makeup was no way near that advanced," she countered.

"It still isn't," Simpson finished for her.
"What has this to do with Carson?"

"Sir we have a DNA sample from Carson dated 1961.  And with hair that was found in the police vehicle on Friday we could compare them.  We found a huge discrepancy."  He passed out the two files he had been nervously shuffling from one hand to the other.  Holding up his own chart so they could see where he was pointing he continued.

"There are numerous differences in the makeup.  Our DNA is like a fingerprint sir, it's cannot change unless put through some sort of mutation or combined with another."  He looked at them both.  "But as I said earlier this is not possible on a genetic level.  While donors can be found compatible for organs from complete strangers, DNA is so much more complicated."
"What is the other DNA?" Scully asked her anxious voice betraying her cool exterior.

"Amphibian."
"What? Amphibian?" she exclaimed.

"I had them do it over and over but always the same results."  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as if unsure he wanted to continue.  "I think the boys in the lab thought I was pulling a fast one."

"What does this mean?" Watters asked his head swirling around the medical words, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"It means that with help from Professor Wilde and with the use of other Genetic specialists-,"

"John Markus," Scully interrupted.

"We could have found a conceivable explanation as to how Carson managed to gain entry to the galleries."

"I don't understand…"

"One of the technicians at the lab spoke last night about how this amphibian DNA could give Carson the ability to cling to objects by the use of gripping muscles on his fingers and knees."

            His words were met with silence.  Scully had been in many of these silences, usually after Mulder had explained one of his theories to a crowd.  But by Simpson's small uncomfortable movements she could tell he wasn't use to being the lead in such unbelievable concepts.

"Well…" she watched Watters mind go through the possibility of signing a report to that affect and his frown deepened.  "If we can talk to this professor we'll be a lot further on."

"I have an address for him.  He is living here in Washington.  Arlington road to be exact."

"Okay, report back as soon as possible."
            Watters turned and all but ran from the room as Scully and Simpson gathered their files.

"I'd like to accompany you out to Arlington."

"You don't need to do that."

"No, I'd like to.  Keep busy, you know?"

"Of course.  Lets go then."

***

Mulder lay stretched out on his couch.  His bare feet hung out over the edge of the armrest.  The TV silently flooded the room with pictures of an old war movie, but his eyes were on the basketball that he threw repeatedly into the air catching it against his chest as he tried to ignore the pain in his head.  She had invaded his dreams and his thoughts and he made no effort to evict her, relishing the exquisite mixture of pain and pleasure she brought to him.

            They had talked throughout the whole night as she regaled him with case stories, some of which he couldn't believe, finishing off one bottle of wine and opening another.  She ordered Chinese food and they sat and ate in silence in her living room.  He sat low to the floor by her legs as she rested her dinner on her knees.  He managed to rest his shoulder against her leg during the meal and scorned himself for acting like a teenager with a crush.

            After she stifled another yawn he stood, declaring it was time for him to leave.  She protested but he insisted.  A decision he later came to curse.  She offered him the couch but again he declined, knowing he had to face his apartment sooner or later.  Another decision he later cursed.

Standing in her doorway he couldn't help but pull her into a tight embrace.  With one hand holding her head to his chest the other held her body close to his.  Her arms reached up his back and she held him too.  He kissed the top of her hair unaware of how often he'd made that exact same gesture and walked away.  That final decision he cursed the most.

            Now lying in the stranger's apartment he wondered where he might get some breakfast.  He'd dashed into his bedroom through the dark last night unable to face the apartment he was supposed to call home.  But with the brightness of day came the harshness of his situation.  The cupboards were bare and he was hungry. 

            He dressed quickly and searched for money or keys.  A small dish by his PC held both.  Sitting on his bed as he tied his laces he found his FBI badge and looked longingly at the picture.  It was all beyond his reach.  Throwing the badge across the room he stormed out of the building, with only a slight hesitation as to which direction to take he walked on, hoping he'd remember his way back.

            Hours later as he slipped his key into his apartment door he couldn't hold back the huge smile that covered his face.  A swell of pride washed over him as he stepped inside but it was all too quickly dispelled when the silence that met him became plain.

"Good one Fox, you went shopping," he admonished himself.

He pulled the fridge open and placed the groceries in without unpacking, his appetite gone, he made his way back to the couch and resumed his earlier position.  He wanted to call her but he knew she'd be working.  He wanted to talk to her but he knew she'd be busy.  He wanted to hold her but he knew…he knew he didn't usually so he probably shouldn't.

"Dana Scully," he said aloud. "Fox Mulder…you fool."

***

            The interrogation seemed fruitless and both Simpson and Scully were silent on the drive back to the head quarters.  He glanced over at her but with her elbow resting on the door holding her head he left her to her thoughts.  Travelling through the city in this rush hour traffic gave him plenty of time to watch her.  He'd worked with her on different cases and had never seen her so down hearted.  He knew of her reputation as a pathologist and had experienced her investigation skills first hand but here she seemed beaten.  A bad sign for an agent so young.  He'd seen it before in older agents who didn't leave the VCU in time and he could see it, although more pronounced, in Agent Watters.

"I guess we are no closer now than we were this morning."

"No." Her voice was as distant as her thoughts so he gave up. 

            As they walked into the bullpen Agent Salmon who was loaded down with pizza boxes met them.  Simpson took a few from him and followed him to the table.

"Taking in an all nighter?" Simpson asked

"We have a list of names longer than the inquisition," Reilly said as he took a bite.

"I'm sure a lot of them are just time wasters but you know that way it is.  The ones you don't check will end up being the ones you need to check again!"

"Do you guys need a hand?" Scully asked.

"No don't worry about it.  I heard you guys had a terrible time up in Arlington today."

"Okay, well don't work too hard," Simpson said with a wave as he left the room.

"Go on Agent Scully," Reilly said as he noticed her hesitation to leave.  "Take yourself home and we'll see you tomorrow."  She forced a smile and left.

            In her apartment she found the mess she hoped would magically have been cleared had been left for her.  Tiredly she recycled the empty wine bottles and threw away the Chinese rubbish before slipping into the shower.  She thought of ringing Mulder but decided to give him some room.  Maybe he needed to reacquaint himself with his surroundings before she trespassed all over them.  Her fingers rinsed through her hair as she lathered in the shampoo and she could feel her body relaxing against the hot downpour of water.  Dressed in a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms and an old Knicks t-shirt Mulder had given her one night for a change of clothes after getting soaked by the rain, she sank low into the couch sipping on a hot cup of milk.  Her laptop lay unopened on the coffee table but she was refusing to answer its call.

The doorbell rang loudly and unexpectedly, although if she was honest with her self she had been secretly hoping it would all night.  Her body had become lazy and with some effort she padded barefoot to the door.  A quick look through the spy hole showed her Mulder standing there, anxiously looking up and down the hallways outside her apartment.  She opened the door and smiled.

            When he saw her standing there in a large Knicks t-shirt that he somehow knew had once belonged to him, his heart stopped.  Her hair was falling around her face, the tips of it still wet and leaving small drops on her shoulders.  For a moment he stood there saying nothing and she opened the door wider to let him in.  He stood awkwardly in side the door unable to take his eyes off her.  A faint smell of soap and a sweet perfumed moisturiser clung to her and he inhaled deeply, trying to get closer.

"Hey," he said his eyes travelling unashamedly over her body.

"Hi Mulder.  I was just sitting down with some hot chocolate, would you like a cup?"

"Sure."  He sat on the couch managing to pull his eyes away and waited for her to return.  She held out the cup and he took it, leaning back for her to step over his legs and fall in beside him.

"So how was your day?" her tiredness forgotten she tried to stop smiling but found that she couldn't.

"God awfully boring. You?"

"Pretty useless."

"Case not going well?"

"It's just we seem to be running into a lot of dead ends. And today Agent Simpson talked about this theory…I'm sorry, you don't want to hear about that."

"No really, I don't mind."

"No, it's okay.  I'd rather forget about work anyway.  So what did you do all day?"

"I went out and did a bit of shopping.  I snooped around my apartment trying to find out about the real Fox Mulder."

"Find anything interesting?" she heard the light tone in his voice but she could feel the tension in his body.

"Interesting, no…confusing, yeah."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know but I guess I felt weird about going through this guys…my stuff.  Recognising nothing, feeling nothing.  In the whole place I found only two photos.  That's one of the reasons I stopped by.  I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't.  You are welcome here any time."

"Thanks Dana."  Their eyes met for a second and Mulder wondered if that spark was in them when she looked at him before the accident.  "This one…well I know it's you and me!"

            He passed her a photo of the two of them standing against the Washington monument.  Both of them were dressed casually and she was laughing.  Her head was thrown back in that carefree gesture that she usually reserved for family only.  His arm was lightly draped around her shoulders and he was smiling triumphantly.  Both of them were unaware that a photo was being taken, as if only they existed.

"We were on a stakeout would you believe," she said smiling softly, her fingers brushing over the two happy figures.  "Undercover watching someone who was allegedly selling information to Middle Eastern spys.  I can't remember what you had just said," she lied, "but this guy took our picture and sold it to you for $5."

            He didn't speak enjoying the array of emotions that played with her face.  Her smile was broad and a quiet bubbling laugh escaped before she could stop it.

"What about this one?"

            He passed her the photo she'd known he would.  It was him and Samantha.  Leaning against a tree that he said had been outside his parent's summer home.  Both young children unaware of the horrors that were about to ruin their lives.  Scully's smile faded and she turned to Mulder who was watching her expectantly.

"That's you and your sister, Samantha."

"My sister?" He took the photos back and looked closer.  "Jesus I never thought about my family.  Where is she? Can we go see her? What about my parents?"

            She reached over and took his hand.  Holding it firmly she took a deep breath before continuing.

"Your parents are dead.  Your father was shot three years ago and your mother died last summer."

"Oh my god…what about Samantha?" The shock on his face was immeasurable. 

            Unsure of how to continue Scully faltered.  The words escaped her.  She saw the expression on his face and she knew he was waiting for an answer but it wouldn't come out.

"Back in 1991 I was assigned to you by AD Blevins, to undermine your work.  Your believe in extra terrestrial life forms was some what a joke in the bureau and basically they wanted me to debunk your work so that you'd leave."

"Yeah Dana, you told me this story…"

"Well when I first met you, you were the most arrogant and self important person I'd known and you didn't seem to care." Her words seemed harsh but she said them with a smile.  "We were investigating the deaths of these teenagers who all shared these marks on the lower part of their backs.  Later that night I was taking a bath and I found some…these two small lumps right there," she put her hand around to her back to show him where.  "I went in to show you and they turned out to be mosquito bites."

"Mosquito bites?"

"I must have been bitten while we were out in the woods.  It was a bit embarrassing really.  I was so scared." This time her voice tried to be light but its slight quiver rang in his ears.  "I practically ran into your room and stripped in front of you to show you what I'd found."  A blush crept up into her pale cheeks and he smiled, wishing he could remember that particular night.

"Well I was really scared and you invited me to stay a while, so while we were talking I must have answered all your questions right because you told me the story about Samantha."  She paused.  His eyes were half closed and he looked at her from beneath his thick lashes.  He was sure the story wasn't going to have a happy ending or she would have told him straight instead of buttering him up like this.

"What happened?" his voice was low but he needed to hear it.

"The summer when you were twelve, your sister and you were at home alone.  Someone…something attacked the house.  You said that you remembered a bright light and something pulling your sister from the room.  You tried to get your fathers gun but you couldn't.  You were twelve and scared out of your wits.  You froze and they took your sister.  You haven't seen or heard from her since."

            As she explained about the FBI search for Samantha and how no contact for ransom was ever made his eyes widened, at first showing astonishment them reverting into anger.  Scully tired to explain the impact it had on his life and how it tore his family apart but the details all seemed so trivial when they were void of the tormented emotions he usually displayed when talking about it.

"Oh my god…" He sat forward on the couch and held the photo out in front of him so he could see it better in the dim light.

"Mulder, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine.  Just a bit…shocked."

            She sat forward with him and placed a hand on his back making small circular motions from the base of it and carrying it on up to his shoulders.  He leaned into her hand and enjoyed the gentle sensations.

"I know I should be feeling something but…I got nothing.  I don't remember any of this.  I don't feel a loss or anything."

"And that's making you angry," she said matter of factly.

"Yes."

            He stood up and began to pace the small room making it feel even smaller.  His hands naturally found his hips as he walked and she could almost imagine he was back.  With one hand reaching up into his hair he slammed his fist down onto the tabletop wincing as a sharp pain ran up into his shoulder.

"Dammit," he muttered grabbing it and flexing it around.

"Mulder," she stood up and walked over to him.  "Why don't you come into the office tomorrow?"  His eyes shot down to hers.  She stood in front of him barefoot and again he marvelled at how small she was.  Again the urge to grab her into a hug rippled through him but he stepped back and leaned against the table.

"Do you think I should?"

"Would you rather spend the day at home waiting for your memory to return?"

"No…but I don't know if I'm ready."  She rested against the table beside him.

"Well the office does seem kind of big without you.  Cleaner…but defiantly bigger!"  Nudging him with her shoulder he smiled.

"Tomorrow…yes, I think I would like to go in."

"Great.   I'll pick you up at 7.45am."

"Damn, that is early.  I'd better get going," he said but he made no move to leave.  Looking down at her slim body leaning against the table, her arms folded across the chest and watching him back he couldn't move.  Her smile faded when she saw the look in his eyes.  She couldn't breakaway but she knew she had to or…or something was going to happen.  She thought that if he didn't make it then she probably would.

            He nudged her back and watched her blue eyes darken.  Shimmering like a pool in the moonlight he decided it was time.  He leaned in closer his eyes flicking to her lips as her tongue darted out to lick them and her breath caught in her throat.  He glanced at her eyes and saw a brief wave of fear spark into them.  The motion that he had been making for her lips diverted slightly and he kissed her cheek.  Catching the edge of her mouth he pressed his lips lightly against her.  Her eyes fluttered closed and she was sure that he could hear her heart beating; it's erratic sound screaming in her head. 

When he pulled away a cold breeze of air rushed across her face.  He smiled at the sight of her with her head slightly bent and her eyes closed over.  They opened slowly and she saw him watching her.  A little cough to clear her throat did nothing to dispel the heat she could feel on her cheeks. But he looked away affording her the small amount of privacy he could.  She reached up and pulled her hair out of her face, looked down to her feet.

"I better go.  Early start."

"Okay," she said still not looking up.  When he didn't move she glanced up and their eyes locked.

"Thanks Dana.  For talking.  For telling me the truth."

"No problem."  Her voice was barely a whisper but he could feel her discomfort so he walked over to the door.  As he opened it he turned and was surprised to see her standing so close, her footsteps unheard.

"Goodnight."

Without a second thought he hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head.  Stepping out of the apartment he clicked the door closed behind him and leant against it.  His headache was pounding but it did nothing to chase away the elation that coursed through him.  When he kissed her he could feel the electricity.  Even though their bodies hadn't been touching and at the last minute he strayed away from her lips he felt her quiver against him and all it did was make him want more.

On the other side of the door Scully rested her head, thoughts of his kiss cycling around in her head.  She could still feel heat on the spot where his lips had pressed onto her face.  Her fingers strayed up to touch it and she smiled.  She was sure he was going to kiss her and wondered why he settled for her cheek.  Her blush rose again as she walked into her bedroom and climbed into the bed.  Checking that the alarm was set properly she snuggled deeper and let out a contented sigh.

Back to work with Mulder tomorrow she thought.  It won't be long now.

** I promise it won't be long now!!! I think about 2 more chapters should do it…**