Imaginary

2.

He was tired; a bone aching tiredness that had little to do with the length of the day and everything to do with the woman beside him. Sitting to his right with her delicate fingers curled around the arm rest of the red eye flight, she looked beaten. Dark smudges had appeared under her eyes almost over night. A tension around her lips which had recently been absent reminded him of a time months ago when all they could see was the bleakness and despair of death and conspiracies.

Funny how a few weeks away from the paranoid shadow chasing had lightened her eyes and softened her lips into a smile, he mused. It wasn't just her, he realised, he'd been happier as well. Life had become lighter since they'd been put off the X Files, and he found himself surprised by the revelation. They'd smiled more, and played around more. He almost felt guilty about enjoying life without the X Files.

Did he really want to watch Scully become the thin woman who wore black suits and shadowed eyes while she investigated this truth that cut so close to home?

Mulder sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair. Next to him Scully moved on her seat, the arm of her suit jacket brushing against his hand for a second, and then she settled again.

"I think you were right," Scully said.

"About what?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at her.

"The file being a set up," she said. "We found nothing, Mulder. Just a few coincidences and three children who we don't even know for sure are mine."

"What purpose could it serve though?" Mulder questioned.

"Kersh called us less than ten minutes after we left Transgen Pharmaceuticals, Mulder," she pointed out. "How did it through to him so quickly?"

"You're right," he said.

"They want us out of the Bureau, and I think we just handed them the ace to use against us," she said tiredly.

"Do you think they will?" he asked, surprised by how little it concerned him.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm just speculating and letting my imagination run."

"It's within the realm of possibility," he said.

"Yes."

Mulder sighed, closing his eyes again. "I guess we find out tomorrow morning."

Scully didn't respond, and Mulder let himself doze, catching up on several missed hours of sleep.


After a fifteen minute wait on Kersh's leather chairs they were let in to see the Deputy Director. The large office was uncomfortably warm for Mulder's liking, but he didn't attempt to take his coat off. Instead, he guided Scully over to a chair before taking one himself.

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Scully asked, the picture of civil politeness as she addressed Kersh.

"Is there anything either of you agents would like to tell me before we begin?" Kersh asked.

Kersh remained silent, and Mulder met the stony gaze easily, wistfully wondering what it would take to make Kersh lose the calm smirk of superiority that always stained his smile. "No, sir," Mulder said blandly.

"Then explain to me, Agent, why you deliberately ignored an order I gave you, and have involved yourself in a supposed investigation? I also remember denying your request for leave yesterday morning."

"I accepted your denial for my leave of absence, sir, and haven't done anything to disregard that," Mulder pointed out.

"You were in San Diego," Kersh said.

"Is there a law that says I have to spend my weekend in DC?" Mulder asked innocently. "I had a return flight booked for this afternoon, sir."

"What were you doing in San Diego?" Kersh asked.

"It's my weekend. I don't think I have to inform the Bureau of everything I do on my weekend."

"You do when you use your weekend to investigate research clinics for apparent crimes which were not committed."

Mulder didn't respond, his gaze not faltering as Kersh stared at him.

Kersh pursed his lips and touched the tips of his fingers together as he leant back in his chair, letting his scrutiny turn to Scully who had thus far remained silent in her chair. "Tell me, Agent Scully, is it usual for an Agent on vacation to look up the families of dead children and question them about the medical treatment their child received?"

Scully swallowed, but her gaze was strong. "No sir, it's not."

"You are aware of the orders given to you and Agent Mulder. Orders expressly given to prevent you from investigating cases pertaining to the X Files."

"You just said there wasn't a case," Mulder interrupted.

"I am not a fool, Agent Mulder," Kersh said coldly. "I am aware of the case you and Agent Scully opened against the research clinic in 1998. The similarity of this situation is suggesting to me that perhaps you and Agent Scully feel there is an X File here, and took it upon yourselves to investigate. If there is anything you feel requires investigation, we already have an X Files unit. It is not your place or responsibility to involve yourselves with the investigation."

Mulder clenched his jaw, but didn't argue.

"I'm finding it very hard to justify keeping the two of you on the Bureau's payroll," Kersh continued. "This is not the first time you have disregarded my orders, and I'm certain it won't be the last."

The silence stretched in the room, thick and sticky like tar. Mulder glanced over at Scully, observing the impassive mask of her face and the defiant clench of her jaw.

"I can't let this go without reprimand," Kersh said finally, drawing Mulder's attention back to him. "Agent Scully, you can count your two week vacation as an unpaid suspension from all duties. Agent Mulder, you can have that vacation now, on the same condition as Agent Scully. I'll need your guns and badges."

Mulder was tempted to ask if Kersh wanted the name plate from his desk as well, but a gentle nudge from Scully's elbow stopped him. He placed his gun and badge next to Scully's on Kersh's desk and stepped back. "Will that be all, Deputy Director?" he asked politely.

"Yes," Kersh said, nodding. "I'll see you in two weeks, Agents. And let me warn you, if I hear even the tiniest whisper of your disregarding my orders to stay out of the X Files, you will both be out on the street before you can blink. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Scully said softly.

"Good. You may go."


"Well, it could have been worse," Mulder commented as he pulled to a stop outside Scully's apartment.

She raised her eyebrows at him, her hand hovering over the release of her seat belt. She sighed then, leaning back against her seat for a second before a rueful smile crossed her lips. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said. "If I'd taken the time to think about the implications of that file, I would never have just rushed off like that. It was irrational and very stupid of me."

"Yes," Mulder said solemnly, "it was."

"I feel like an idiot," she said. "I was played. I'm not exactly sure how or why, but I was. I was expecting us to find ourselves jobless this morning."

"Me too," Mulder said, frowning. "I wonder why we're not. If that was the aim of setting us up, it doesn't make sense for us to still be employed."

She ignored his theorising. "If I got you fired it would have thrown everything you've worked for away."

"You worked for it too, Scully. You were chasing the truth in San Diego, and that's what we both want."

"But it was my truth, Mulder, not yours. It was personal."

Mulder smiled. "It is personal, Scully," he said. "If it wasn't personal, what else would it be? You said it yourself a few weeks ago."

She frowned, staring at him.

"Go to bed, Scully," he said. "You had a long weekend and the flight last night."

She nodded. "You too, Mulder."

When she waved goodbye and disappeared into the apartment building, Mulder drove away, wondering whether even 'personal' made it worth it anymore.


He pulled into his parking space gratefully, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the steering wheel for several seconds. He was tired. Two red eye flights, an uncomfortable motel bed and worrying about the case – or lack of one – added up to one tired Fox Mulder. A wry chuckle escaped: he was getting too old for this sort of crap.

He dragged himself out of his car, shivering at the bitter blast of wind running through the parked cars, and found himself longing for San Diego which had proved to be marginally warmer than DC.

Inside the car he heard his cell phone ringing. He retrieved both coat and phone, pulling his coat on as he answered the call.

"We found something, Mulder," Byers said, barely contained excitement lacing his voice.

"What did you find?"

"Doctor Markham is tied to several fertility programs and obstetricians, including Zeus Genetics and Parenti Medical Group right here in DC."

Mulder froze. "Say that again."

"Which part?" Byers asked.

"The part about Zeus Genetics and Parenti Medical Group."

"Dr. Markham is tied to those clinics."

"Can you get me any more information on them?" Mulder asked, swallowing.

"Anything in particular?"

"Doctor Parenti himself," Mulder said.

"Do you know him, Mulder?"

"Yes. He was Scully's doctor."

"Mulder, he's an obstetrician," Byers pointed out.

"I know that. Look into it for me, okay? And see if Parenti is linked to Transgen Pharmaceuticals in any manner at all."

"What's going on, Mulder?" Byers asked.

"I think Scully and I were wrong," Mulder murmured.

Byers sighed. "I'll call you if we find anything."

Mulder hung up and bit his lip, pausing for a second. With a growl of anger he kicked at the tires of his car, ignoring the jolt of pain that travelled up his leg at the contact. Bile clogged his throat, and he rested both hands on the hood of his car, swallowing roughly until it receded.

What, he thought bleakly, what had Scully done to deserve what these men were doing to her, and why her? Because she worked with him, he wondered? Because they wouldn't let go, even when they made it abundantly clear they wanted both her and Mulder away from the X Files? Was it punishment for their search? Meant to deter them?

The question that concerned him the most, however, was whether or not to tell Scully about the possible involvement of Parenti Medical Group.