Sunday afternoon, two days after they had dined together, Dana and Fox were strolling through the marketplace, looking at the many wares people had to sell. She was carrying a basket and had already purchased a few pieces of fruit he had never seen before. He had offered to pay for them seeing as it was he who had asked her to join him, but she would not hear of it.

Since he had last seen her, he had begun a quest to learn all he could in regards to Kha'ari. He had read what was available in his room, venturing back downstairs when he had finished, looking in the larger library for more information. He had found only one book and the description of her had been more informative, but not enough.

Saturday he had gone to the library in town and spent the majority of the day within its walls, hunting for even more information. Copying down what he had learned into his journal, he had begun to gain an idea of who that goddess was and also was pained to think of why Dana had been so drawn to her.

He had thought of her hand grazing her throat, touching the chain and locket, wondering about the picture held inside. Was it a lover? Her husband? She wore no ring, so he could not be sure. Whatever had transpired, the source of it included the contents of that locket.

"Have you had any other adventures since I last saw you?" Dana asked with a smile. "Any new sketches to share?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"No. Not any new sketches, but I have been researching Kha'ari." She stopped walking and he saw a look of shock on her face.

"You have?" she asked and he nodded, taking her arm and moving forward as a man with a wagon attempted to pass by.

"Your account of her intrigued me along with the fact that I seemed to have completely glossed over her existence among the other goddesses."

"It's understandable, as I did the same," she said with a nod. "What did you find out?"

"Quite a bit. She's actually incredibly interesting. Many of the gods and goddesses had a scale of measure it seemed. The goddess Ammit, for example, devoured the hearts of souls who were not justified by Osiris. A scale of worth."

"True, but it's similar to most religions. The concept of heaven or hell, where a soul will reside, is dependent on your behavior and belief in the higher power." He nodded with a smile and a tilt of his head, asking her a silent question. "I was raised catholic, though… I'm questioning some things these days." She sighed and removed her arm from his, switching her basket to that hand.

"Yes, they are similar. But with Kha'ari," he said as she stopped and spoke to a woman, picking out more fruit. "She was one who accepted all, turned no one away, and took on their pain, demanding or expecting nothing in return."

"Yes," Dana said, thanking the woman with a smile and a nod. "Yet many people brought offerings and gifts for their thankfulness."

"Understandable," he said. "Without the show of appreciation, they may have felt that pain and suffering would come to them again."

"Yes," she said again, softly, her hand once more going to her throat for a brief second.

"I would like to ask something of you," he said, his heart rate increasing with his worry at what her response would be to his question.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to know if you would consider… being my guide, your knowledge of her being greater than my own." He watched her profile and saw when she understood his words. She turned her head and looked at him with an expression he could not read. Incredulity? Fear? Anger? He did not know.

"You… you can't be serious," she said, shaking her head. "I… it's impossible."

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated with a bitter laugh, her anger now more than obvious. Walking through an archway and away from the marketplace, he quickened his steps to keep up with her.

"Why are you angry with me?" he asked, not understanding what happened.

"I'm not angry. Well… I don't know if I am. No, I am angry with you." She stopped walking and stared at him, her entire countenance exuding her anger. "How dare you… to suggest…" She shook her head, words failing her.

"I… I thought you would be pleased," he replied honestly, surprised at her words.

"Pleased? No, I am not."

"Why?"

"Do you have permission? Do you have a team of people? A plan? Have you any of that?" She stared at him, her eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

"No."

"No. You haven't. And yet you ask me, a stranger, and a woman, to traipse off into the desert with you, alone, to find something of which you knew nothing two days ago."

"I… Miss Scully," he said, choosing to not use her first name, showing his respect to her. "Please know I meant no harm or disrespect. Honestly that thought never even entered my mind." He shook his head again with a shrug of his shoulders. "I only meant that I see the appeal of such a discovery, and I would like to conduct a search, though only with your assistance."

Her anger, which had risen quickly, was cooling as he saw her relax, her shoulders dropping as a breath was released. She swallowed and closed her eyes briefly, pressing her lips together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her slightly wet eyes on his own. "I've wanted to search for it for so long, but I also know it's impossible."

"Begging your pardon," he said quietly. "Without meaning to offend… for you it may be, but not I." She stared at him and he continued. "You hinted at it the other night. I have considerable wealth, thanks to my family, my father specifically. I have no wife, no children, and unless I change my bachelor ways, it may always be so. I haven't… I've had…" He cleared his throat and sighed deeply, not wanting to share his past hardships and pain. "I want to do this and I will work to find a way to make it happen. If I am able, will you join me?" She took a deep breath, looked around as she let it out. He waited, understanding the weight of his question.

"Can… can I have some time? It's all so much so quickly and I…" She looked at him, beseeching him to understand.

"Of course. I understand the hesitancy. It will be some work and so…" He nodded with a smile and she released a deep breath.

"Thank you. I… thank you." She looked around and spotted a bench. "Would you like to try some of this fruit?" Gesturing to her basket, he nodded with a smile, the awkwardness of the discussion pushed aside.

For now.

Over the next couple of weeks, he saw less of Dana, both because she seemed to have pulled away from him, not returning quick informative letters of updates to his plan which he sent to her flat, and he was inquiring how he could gain permission to claim a dig site.

Told different information from many people, he decided to act as he believed he should have from the beginning, and speak to the person in charge of the museum.

He dressed carefully the day he visited, wanting to convey his wealth, something he never paid much attention to, it simply being a part of him. He was not a man who flaunted it, wanting others to see him and not his money. But in this instance, if they saw him as being beneficial, he would do what he could to acquire what he wanted.

Waiting outside of the office of a man named Jean Badeaux, he rehearsed his speech once again in his head. Key points were hit and then the door opened, his heart racing as he stepped forward to plead his case.

It did not go as he had planned.

Jean Badeaux was a man of sixty, loud, large, and obnoxious. Fox did not like him, finding his manner crude and embarrassing. He knew, however, that Mr. Badeaux held the key to his future plans and thus he remained relatively silent while in his company.

When Fox told him of his desire to discover the temple of the goddess Kha'ari, Jean Badeaux laughed heartily and shook his head.

"There is not a temple erected to the goddess Kha'ari, Mr. Mulder. I do not know where you heard that it was a possibility."

"I believe it is true," Fox said, standing his ground.

"You can believe as you like, sir, but it's simply not true."

They stared at one another and Fox once again stated that he believed himself to be correct. Mr. Badeaux shook his head, looked at his pocket watch before sticking out his hand, dismissing Fox with a condescending smile.

He stood, but instead of accepting his hand, Fox reached into his coat pocket and took out his pocketbook, his eyes on Mr. Badeaux.

"Could your museum do with a donation? A quite… large donation?" Fox asked and Mr. Badeaux stared at him, his eyes falling to the check which Fox knew was within his view. Giving him a curt nod of acceptance, Fox knew the matter had been solved.

The amount was large, but to him it was worth every cent if he could have a chance to find his purpose, and most importantly, if Dana could fulfill what she believed to be an impossible dream.

Leaving the office, a letter of approval in his pocketbook, he walked downstairs, pacing in front of the door which led to the staircase to the research office. He debated internally whether he should bother her while she was working again, especially as they had not had any contact recently.

But this information, the excitement of it, could not be contained to a letter. He was sure that his penned words would never be able to suffice the happiness he felt.

Looking around, he quickly opened the door and walked down the stairs, down the long hallway, turned left and arrived at the glass door marked 'Research.'

Pacing again, he looked down the hall, feeling he would be caught at any moment and ordered to leave. He clenched his jaw and nodded his head. A hand on the doorknob, he looked through the glass and saw Dana staring at him.

She was a few feet away, but he could see her eyes widen as she glanced to her right, her fellow researcher walking past and not noticing him, Dana saying something to her which he could not hear. She shook her head as she began to step closer to the door, the blue cap covering her hair making her eyes seem even bluer.

He waited for her to open the door, trying to calm his racing heart. When the knob turned, she stepped through it quickly and motioned for him to be quiet and to follow her. He did with a nod and they walked down the hall to a door which she opened, revealing a decent sized supply closet with brooms and mops. She closed the door and they were plunged into darkness.

"Uhh, sorry." Opening the door, she took the matches and lit the lamp hanging from the ceiling and closed the door again, staring up at him expectantly. "What are you doing here now?"

"I had an appointment."

"An appointment."

"Yes."

"With whom?"

"Jean Badeaux." Her eyes widened again and she looked down, shaking her head.

"Mr. Badeaux, the man in charge of this entire museum?"

"Yes." Looking up at him, she let out a breath before licking her lips. "I told you I would find a way."

"And have you?" He smiled slowly with a nod. "No. Are you serious?" She seemed near shock and he smiled wider.

"I am exceedingly serious."

"You… how?"

"It's amazing what a donation to the museum can do to help a person's cause along."

She stared at him and then she began to laugh, stunning him and rooting him in place; he had never heard her laugh in that manner. When she calmed, she shook her head.

"And he took it of course? That man is nothing if not greedy."

"And if we find something, he gains praise and attention. If we fail… he gains a donation and he doesn't need to get his hands dirty."

"We?" she asked softly, and he nodded.

"I did not mention you to him, did not speak of you at all," he assured her. "But my offer, my plan in my mind includes you. I don't… I don't have an idea of where to start, but I know you do. It would be a strictly professional relationship. I will employ you, so you will not be lacking monetarily." He wanted to say more, but left it there, letting it be her decision.

She took a deep breath, crossing her arms as she dropped her head. He waited, nearly certain her answer would be no, fear holding her back even as he knew she ached to go. She sniffled twice and then raised her head, a hand at her throat, her eyes wet.

"When can we leave?" she whispered, wiping her eyes.

He grinned slowly as she laughed and cried simultaneously, his laughter soon joining hers.