Thank you to those of you who alerted and reviewed.

I haven't had a chance to edit this. Opps. But I have to go to school in like six hours and I'm still jetlagged. And my editing skills aren't any different from me typing this up. :) Feel free to tell me I'm slack, and I need to give up.

I wanted to keep away from too much German. I love the language, grew up around it, but it's annoying to read when you don't speak it, and then it'd just be me writing something in German and then writing the English next to it and that's probably pointless, because no one's going to read the German anyway. - I need to sleep or I mumble like this.

Enjoy.

Part 2

Communication

She looked so much more like a horror free child as they sat in a Moscow diner. Her legs kicked back and forth under the table, her feet seemingly miles off the ground.

Her little fingers brought greasy fries to her mouth. He watched her patiently, wondering when exactly it was she'd last eaten enough to make her full, let alone when it was she'd last eaten at all.

The girl, although unable to make sense of his words, and unable to read his thoughts, just smiled at him brightly. He'd been teaching her to dip her fries into the strawberry thick shake that sat almost taller than her on the diner table.

Her smile was brilliant, her laugh contagious as her little legs kicked giddily under the table. One hand steered clear of her food all together. Instead, it held on tightly to the fluffy brown counterpart hand of a teddy bear.

He'd been unable to resist not buying her the bear when they stopped in the first town he'd hit since leaving for the mapped coordinates that lead him to her. The children's store had child seats in the front window which was exactly why he stopped.

In the store Danica nestled herself into his arms her separation anxiety far too much for him to leave her to walk. Yet, he hadn't even tried to put her down. Perhaps it was his fear of putting her down that prevented him from doing so. He did put her down, when a sales woman asked if he needed any help in English.

He left Danica to stand on her own two feet, believing she wouldn't venture far.

It only took a matter of minutes for him to turn and find her gone.

He found her. Of course. Standing transfixed in front of a singular brown bear, her admiration was intoxicating. Approaching her from behind he asked if she wanted it. Danica didn't warrant him with a verbal response. Instead she attached herself to his hip again and raised her arms in a silence request to be picked up.

In one fluid motion he picked up both the tiny girl and the average bear. He smile was addictive once she'd noticed what he'd done. In that moment he realized that he'd do anything just to see that smile every day. He wanted her to have everything she dreamed of, and for Danica to realize that the world could be a better place, once shown its bright capabilities.

He bought the bear without second thought, he had the money to spoil her and he was more than willing to do so if it granted him with that reaction.

Back in the diner he sat back, watched her with a proud smile. Danica reminded him so much of his partner, she was a perfect miniature; the red hair, the pale skin, and her bright wide blue eyes seemed to take the whole world in as if it were telling her a secret. He thought it unusual, her looks were not that of normal Russian caricature. He didn't let his mind dwell on it so, that was no longer anything of concern. He'd get her out of there, and from there on she'd be American.

Watching passers-by through the window, Mulder caught side of an overly tall man, thin almost to the bone. His dark hair was combed over, the original color of his eyes blurred by the thick glasses he wore. It didn't matter to Mulder, he recognised the man immediately – Person.

Mulder raised his hand in a silent greeting to the other man through the glass. Alerting him of their table. Danica missing the interaction out the window, noticed the man's intent to sit with them as he entered the small quaint Russian diner. She dropped off her chair, the bear in tow and ran to Mulder, on the other side of the table. He picked her up, settling her in his lap quickly. Her greasy fingers pressed into the back of his neck, the bear squished in between them both. The grease on his neck made him want to squirm, but he knew how much Danica needed that embrace and he'd let her stay there all day if need be.

"Beautiful girl you have there, Mulder. I must say. You do look odd with children. But it works." Person teased as he sat in the chair Danica's bear had occupied. He was well aware that Danica wasn't in fact Mulder's daughter, but he was there to make it so.

"Schatz!" Danica almost squealed in disgust before Mulder had a chance to reply to the other man. She was stabbing the air with her finger, towards Person's seat. "Schatz." She repeated again this time her voice quieter yet, still soft as velvet, whilst this time she pointed to her bear and then the chair.

His mind caught on quickly. She was angry with Pearson for taking her bear's place at the table. Mulder quickly explained that to the other man who was holding a quizzical expression. "You told me over the phone that she was Russian." Pearson's confusion sparked Mulders, she was in Russia. "Schatz." Pearson repeated the little girls' word. "That's German for treasure. Not Russian."

He leant forward into the table with a soft smile, hoping not to frighten the already tense child. "I have a few questions." He told Mulder, silently asking for permission. Once granted with a nod, his mind instantly switched the brutality and roughness belonging to the German tongue. "Do you speak German?" He'd asked her, looking her right in the eye. She sat quietly on a clueless Mulder's lap as Pearson spoke in her language.

She granted him with a soft nod. Her hair rubbing against Mulder's shirt, Schatz sitting comfortable now, in her lap. "Are you German?" He asked and quickly gained another nod. "What about Russian?" Pearson could see Mulder tensing up at every sentence; he couldn't understand the two of them and was worried as to what the girl was being asked, without his watchful ear.

She'd told him softly that her Russian wasn't very good. And when he asked her of her age she simply held up three fingers and uttered a single German word. "Halbe." She was three and a half. Pearson continued to drop questions on her. Danica wasn't all that into talking, for some she'd reply with a nod, other times no answer left her sealed lips, or betrayed itself with her body movements. She would sit still, and silent, as though it were practiced. Mulder didn't know if she wasn't answering because she didn't understand or if Pearson was being far too harsh upon her, the man had a tendency to be a jerk. It wouldn't surprize the agent if he still used that attitude around a child.

"Danica Elisif Wolff." Flowed from her lips the words each as soft as velvet, Mulder's face lit up. They had a full name. It made Pearson's job that little bit easier if he had something to work off of. Now they had it.

"This'll be easy, Mulder. No doubt about it. I'll find her records and from that build new ones, you'll get a copy of the original if ever you feel you'd need it. After that, you're out of here on the first flight you book." Mulder nodded, it surely couldn't be that easy. There had to be a hitch, but there wasn't.

"Why was she out there?" He didn't mean to ask the ever looming question in his mind aloud, but he did so just as Pearson stood to leave the table. He had a valid question, the girl was living in Russia, she couldn't understand the language, then again, she probably learnt the insults and threats the soldiers were screaming that day.

And obviously, if she was living in Russia it would have something to do with her parents' influence, obviously they could speak the language and a three year old isn't incapable of learning something new. So why didn't they teach her?

Perhaps, that was a factor in their deaths. Maybe her parents actually couldn't speak Russian, and maybe they weren't supposed to be in Russia, by the own will, at all.

Pearson didn't have an answer as he initiated farewells. "I suggest you sit back for a while. I can have the things you need prepared by sometime tonight. Are you happy with everything in your name?" Mulder nodded, they'd discussed this on the phone. He wasn't going to get away with taking a child across the border without both parents present especially if she shared a different last name. "Do you even have the money to support a child?"

Mulder chuckled softly, his arms would have crossed over his chest if it wasn't for the extra body on his lap, still curved around his neck. "Look at you Pearson, are you showing actual care in a young life?"

"Kinder can be expensive." Mulder nodded, assuring the man that he in fact did have at least some money to support her. His parents had over compensated with his college fund and refused to take the extra money back once he'd paid of his years' worth of student loans and Oxford. Not to mention, Mulder had collected a nice sum of money after his father's passing. Sure, within a normal person's life that money would have been put towards something and spent completely by the time they had children.

But Mulder had no one, nor the cause to completely spurge on. Until now.

As Pearson left, he couldn't help but wonder how long that large sum of money would last if Danica were to stay with him for the rest of her life.

He'd have to pay for Kindergarten and school, not to mention college, eventually. He had to think about hospital cover for someone other than himself, extra food, more take out, clothes, electricity bills that could possibly double. She'd need her own kids shampoo, and he had no idea how fast she'd go through that. He didn't even know if kids bathed regularly. He certainly hadn't as a child. She's need toiletries and hygiene products, she'd need a bed. He wouldn't have to invest in a crib, but he didn't want to buy her something too big straight away. So she'd need one of those tiny beds that always made him smile softly in furniture stores. And then there were toys and video's and CDs, if she liked music. Not to mention vacation time and summer programs to keep her busy when school was out. He'd probably have to hire a nanny too, because he was still a workaholic after all and he couldn't always leave his job to be with her on weekends. But that didn't sound so bad, normal hours could work. Maybe he'd pick up a regular routine again, he hadn't had one of those since he as a kid and they were important for kids. Right?

His mind span in that small Moscow dinner, the little girl was pressed to his chest and he realised then that maybe he was in over his head. He looked down at Danica and came face to face with her bright eyes. She smiled at him expectantly as his thoughts ran a motion picture in his mind.

She pulled herself off his lap and reclaimed the seat that had been hers before Pearson arrived. Forget the list of things he'd need to by her, how was he going to talk to her? It couldn't be all that hard, could it? Pearson had broken through that first initial barrier, now all he had to do was figure out the rest of the puzzle.

He hadn't realized that he'd zoned out until he noticed Danica's bright smile again. She was smiling but her eyes read and impatient agitation, she'd been trying to get his attention, but his mind was too preoccupied panicking that he hadn't noticed.

She sat on the other side of the table, Schatz in her lap, sitting straight like a patient friend. Danica on the other hand, was frustrated that attention wasn't being brought on her as she tried to teach the man something. Mulder chuckled softly at her impatient manner. It was good to know the girl still had a spark. His soft laugh stopped and was replaced with a small, almost watery smile. Danica was talking to him. But not only that, she was clearly trying to teach him the German words for each item that was on the table.

They sat like that for hours; Danica had him repeat everything she said until he pronounced it right for her ears. She then, in her three-year-old manner pointed to an object and sat impatiently until he got it right.

Mulder in turn would tell her the English and listen to her little lips try to force their way around the strange words and sounds. He was less harsh on the girl, compared to what he was with her. But he knew she would struggle, he expected that. He wouldn't expect perfection from her until later on, until they got to America and she needed to put her words to use.

Besides, he needed to be able to communicate with her. It was only going to make things a bigger struggle.

I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. ;) You should tell your friends. :P

But seriously, reviews help. So do readers I've learnt. ;)

Annaliese