All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No
infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court...
I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh...

Comments, complaints and just plain talk to smartin@goodmedia.com

My mother insists on watching one show before The Show; and since she's still
bigger than me, she gets it. So I watch it. And I started to like it. And
then I thought about taking out the commercials and switching networks. Talk
about extremes...

Credits: Tess, Monica and Andrew are from the wonderful CBS television series
"Touched By An Angel" - and I hope I managed to do an adequate job in
portraying them... in short, they're angels... grin... and they try to help
people...

Jackie, well... she's still mine... tho I keep trying to lock her out... but
then she kicks the door in... sigh...

Summary: A heavenly visitation brings to the surface worries and fears.
Rating: G, Story... probably paranormal for the simple fact that I have
angels in it... snicker... 
Spoilers: Memento Mori spoilers, natch... 


Agents and Angels 
(X Files/TBAA Crossover)
by Sheryl Martin

Walter Skinner strode along the hallway; nodding automatically at the other
agents as they gave him a respectful glance or shake of the head. His eyes
didn't leave the open folder in his hand; nor did he slow his pace until he
reached the open viewing bay above the gymnasium.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the folder and pinched the bridge of his
nose; pushing his glasses up in the process. Assistant Director might be fun
in name; but it meant more trouble than anyone ever knew. And there were
plenty of days when he wondered why he had ever wanted any more
responsibility than he had as a junior agent; clocking in and out at regular
hours.

Looking down onto the floor, he frowned. Off to one corner on the practise
mats stood two women; putting on protective equipment in preparation for a
sparring match. One sported a Quantico sweatshirt over her grey track pants;
the other a bright blue Toronto Blue Jays shirt to go with her black sweats.

He recognised them immediately.

Scully.

And St. George, their Canadian friend.

The shorter of the two women reached for the red padded mitts, slipping them
over her hands. The foot protectors were already on; along with the thick
padded head protectors. The other woman turned to one side, discreetly
slipping a mouthpiece in; then turning back to face her opponent. With a wave
of her own padded hands, she urged her on.

He watched approvingly for a few minutes as Scully launched a basic set of
attacks; aiming for St. George's side and torso area, kicks and punches in a
seasoned flurry of activity. For her part, the Canadian wasn't returning
anything heavy, just the usual blocks and deterrents.

"Sir? I heard that you wanted to see me?" The voice startled Skinner; a small
reprimanding voice in the back of his mind berating him for letting Mulder
sneak up on his like that.

"Yes." Turning away from the window, he handed Mulder the folder. "I think
you need to rethink this report. At least before I submit it to higher
approval." 

With a snort of disgust Mulder took it; slamming it down by his side. "They
just don't ever want the truth, do they? They only want the truth as they
want to see it." He glanced at the window. "Anything interesting?" His voice
trailed up; as if secretly thrilled at catching Skinner doing anything as
nefarious as watching women at play.

"Scully." The one word brought Mulder to full alertness. "How has she been
feeling lately?"

The tall man shrugged. "As good as she ever has. Some good days, some bad
days." He looked down onto the floor. "She's giving St. George a good
beating, isn't she?"

Skinner nodded. "And you know that's not likely unless she's giving Scully
the opening for some reason."

Jackie St. George winced as the padded foot slammed into her left side again.
There was definitely going to be a need for a hot bath tonight. Maybe the
Wookie would oblige and help out again...

Wham!

She chuckled, shaking her head where the blow had landed. That's what you get
for thinking too much, Jackie. If it hadn't been for the special mouthpiece,
Dana Scully would be in a helluva spot right now.

The punch came in, easily blocked. But the Canadian frowned, seeing a problem
in her opponent's technique.

Not that there was anything wrong. But she was getting stronger, not weaker. 

For her part, Scully was just warming up. Taking a deep breath and ignoring
the pounding pain in her head, she unleashed another flurry of blows;
enjoying the sweat as it ran down her back and pooled at the base of her
spine.

"What do you see?" The Africian-American woman sat quietly on the bench to
the left of the sparring mats; looking at her protege. 

Brushing some of the long red hair out of her face, Monica stared at the pair
intently before speaking; her Irish accent thick and calming. "Two women
having some practise. Although I never understood what beating each other up
was all about..."

"Look closer." Tess demanded, her eyes intense and deep.

"She's not really doing much to fight back, is she?" Lifting a hand, Monica
waved at St. George, who was presently being pushed back by a series of
blows. "I thought the idea of practise was to let both people get a chance of
improving themselves."

"Exactly." The older woman nodded. "And..."

"She's losing control?" Monica looked to Tess for approval and finding it.
"She's not fighting properly..."

"She's losing control." Skinner mumbled under his breath. The two men had
stood silently at the viewing window, taking in the sight with a unmentioned
degree of interest at seeing the two women spar. 

Mulder frowned. "Scully's really giving her a beating..."

Suddenly the petite redhead swung a roundhouse punch; connecting cleanly with
St. George's jaw. With a grunt she dropped to the ground, shaking her head as
the padding took most of the sting away. Putting up her hands in surrender,
she spat out the mouthpiece.

"Man, Dana... take it easy on me, hmm? I'm not..." She stopped, seeing her
friend start to waver back and forth on unsteady legs. "Dana?"

Scully pulled off her head protector with shaking hands, tossing the mitts to
one side. Then she fell to her knees, rolling onto the mat with the limpness
of exhaustion.

"I'll call for..." Skinner turned towards the other agent only to find him
already sprinting down the corridor towards the stairwell. Yanking his vision
back to the gym; the older man could see the scarlet trail under her nose
from where he stood. 

"She's sick." Monica said quietly as the tall man dashed across the floor;
dropping to his knees and cradling the fallen woman.

"That's obvious." Tess snorted. St. George had pulled off her own equipment
and was now kneeling by the unconscious Scully, panic written on her face.

"But we aren't here to heal her, are we?" 

"No. That's God's choice, not ours. We're here to do something more
important."

"What's that?"

"Give them faith to keep going." Tess gestured to the trio on the dark blue
mats. "Because right now they're all very mad and frustrated - and
something's got to give."

*******

"Sir..."

"Agent Scully, I'm not open for discussion on this topic." Skinner paced back
and forth in front of the small first aid room. The nurse on call had
discreetly left them after seeing the Assistant Director's face.

"I'm fine." Swinging her feet off the small cot, the woman got to her feet.
"I just got overworked out there."

"And just about gave Agent Mulder and myself a heart attack. Not to mention
what St. George would have done if you had died out there." His voice rose in
intensity. "Three days bed rest. At home. And I'm ordering a home care nurse
through the medical insurance to make sure that you're fine."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." The flush rose to Scully's
cheeks, and she flared at the man. "I've been doing fine for weeks, and I
don't see how any nurse..."

"Agent Scully, I don't think you appreciate my position." Skinner ground his
teeth together as he spoke. "If you don't allow this small infringement on
your life I will be forced to take it to higher authorities and inform them
of your medical condition. This way I can put you back in the field in one
week; with Mulder. If you make me tell anyone else you might never work in
the basement again." He stopped and stared at her. "Your choice."

Gritting her teeth, the redhead nodded. "Three days."

Skinner nodded. "And no one knows anything. I'll mark it off as used sick
days and vacation time."

"Yes sir." Spitting out the words, she got to her feet and strode past him.

"Scully?" He caught her as she entered the hall, making her stop and look
back. With a slight sense of embarrassment, the older man looked at the floor
before meeting her gaze again. "You looked good out there. And I just want to
make sure that you keep looking good. For a long time."

"Yes, sir." Her tone softened. "Thank you, sir."

*********

Wrapping the thick terrycloth robe around her, Dana padded out to the
kitchen; plugging the kettle in for some herbal tea. A hot shower had eased
most of the pain out of her strained muscles and washed away the dried blood
from her upper lip.

Biting her lower lip, she thought over Skinner's words; admitting to herself
that he was right.

She had to be more careful. 

The least of which being playing on the gym floor. She wished she could blame
it on St. George, but she had been the one to suggest a workout; her Canadian
friend agreeing out of a combination of guilt and worry and a need to make
sure Dana Scully was happy.

Of course, now she had all three of them upset and worried. Mulder had
disappeared back to his office, mumbling something about visiting her later.
And Skinner had sent St. George back to the Canadian Embassy so fast that her
equipment was probably still sitting on the floor. Probably to avoid her
making a scene.

Not that Skinner wasn't frantic enough for all of them.

Dipping the tea bag in the cup of hot water, she ruminated on why she had
lashed out at the woman; disregarding her own safety for the sake of working
out her pain and frustration. This wasn't in the field; no one would have
minded if she had just stopped. Out there it was for real and she wanted to
be out there with her partner.

So why had she almost killed herself in the gym?

The gentle knock shattered her introspective wanderings. Making her way to
the door; she peered through the spy hole.

A woman.

Must be that dammed home care thing Skinner had told her about.

With a tired sigh, the redhead opened the door.

"You must be Dana." The young woman extended a hand, smiling broadly. Her
voice held the Irish accent that reminded Scully automatically of her father,
although he hadn't been the original Scully to come over. "My name is
Monica."

*********

For one of the few times in his life, Fox Mulder was truly embarrassed with
himself. And it felt extremely bad.

He had put himself into situations where he knew he would be held up to
ridicule; joked at and scoffed, his nickname "Spooky" tossed around like a
badge to label his theories and his beliefs as outlandish and strange. But he
hadn't ever felt embarrassed for holding those thoughts and theories. Instead
he fought back and was usually proven right, to a degree. And that negated
any feelings of exposure or shame.

But this was different. For some reason he felt so totally blackened by the
shame of not being with Scully right now that he could barely keep his head
up.

He knew she was fine; knew that Skinner had seen to that. But he hadn't been
there in the nurses' office; babbling something about having to check on her
purse and wandering down the corridor when she walked out. He remembered
saying something about checking in on her later, before he bolted for the
basement office and sanctuary.

She had been hurt. He had seen it in her eyes.

And she was right. He had left her at the worst possible time. Not for the
sake of a case or for following up on a clue or anything like that. He had
just been too scared to see her.

He closed his eyes. 

He was afraid.

So afraid of losing her that he almost couldn't stand to see her sometimes; 
his mind imagining that desk being permanently vacant.

The file on his desk listed possible alternative medical theories for dealing
with her ailment. But he knew she'd scoff at most of them. Mind you, so did
he.

But it was a start.

The sharp rap on the doorframe startled him. Looking up, he stared at the
heavyset African-American woman standing in front of him; her hands crossed
in front of her. A touch of white in her hair showed that she was definitely
older than he was.

"Fox Mulder?" She shook his hand hard. "I'm Tess. I've been assigned to do
your audit from Internal Affairs over the next week or so."

He blinked. "Audit?" The word croaked through tight lips.

"It seems that you've had a few... discrepancies in your finances and the
receipts submitted. Assistant Director Skinner thought that over the next
little while you would be available to work with me to scout out the
irregularities." Her eyes bored into his. "I assume you won't be busy doing
anything else?"

Mulder swallowed. "Ah... not now."

*********

"Can I get you some coffee?" Scully walked into the kitchen, reaching for a
mug. The slender woman sat at the table, smiling.

"I don't suppose you'd have an espresso machine?" Her voice lilted up
optimistically, then fell as the redhead chuckled.

"Can't say that I do." She reached for the coffeemaker, flipping the switch
on. "I've been too busy to worry about caffeine."

"Well, I've tried to cut down to a cup a day. But it's hard." Monica
admitted.

"I see." Walking around the table, the woman sat opposite her. "Look,
Monica... I don't know how much you were told about me, but I'm willing to
just sign your timesheet and let you go on your way - just drop by every
morning and then take a vacation." Sitting back in her chair, Dana sighed. "I
don't even know why Skinner did this."

"Well, I can't do that." Monica smiled. "See, that would be lying, and I
can't do that. I'm assigned to come in and spend every day with you; or at
least six hours. Even if that's only to watch television with you; or go to
the park or to the hospital, that's my job." She could see the resentment on
Dana's face. "And I know that you're very ill. And your work in the Bureau. I
was fully briefed before I came over."

"Oh." Dana couldn't think of a suitable retort. Instead, she got to her feet
and headed for the coffeemaker. "So you're saying that I'm stuck with you no
matter what?"

"I don't like to think of it as 'being stuck with'. Let's call it 'getting to
know each other'."

"Do you know what I have?" Scully put it plainly. "I have..." Her throat
closed up on her. "I have a terminal illness, possibly. And I don't like
being forced to rest like this. I have work to do."

"And so do I." The woman returned just as forcibly. "Why don't we try to do
both our jobs?" 

With a shake of her head Dana handed Monica the mug of coffee. 

The phone rang, breaking the tension. Picking up the receiver, Scully smiled
at the familiar voice.

"Hey, woman - I was thinking about getting some Jackie Chan films and
improving on your technique - how about I come over..." St. George's voice
was calm, but strained.

"Ah... not tonight." Scully turned and looked at the seated woman. "I've got
company."

"Mulder beat me there already?"

"No, the home care nurse." Dana could feel the tension coming off the phone
in waves. "She's been sent by Skinner to take care of me for the next little
while."

"I thought I was going to do that." Jackie's voice sounded hurt. "I mean,
Rosie's out of town visiting her relatives in California, and Marty said that
he wouldn't mind..."

"It's okay." Scully forced a smile onto her face. "You don't get enough time
with him as it is; and Skinner put this as part of my getting back on duty
full-time. And Monica seems determined to follow through with this." The
subject of her sentence nodded in agreement.

Jackie paused, then continued with obvious worry. "Is she okay?"

Dana knew what she meant. "She's been cleared through the Bureau."

"That doesn't mean anything to me."

"I'll call you later; promise. And I'll be fine."

"Okay." She grumbled. "Just call if she's doing anything strange. I'll run
her through Interpol and our databases. And give her to the Gunmen if I have
to." 

"Fine. I'll talk to you later." Hanging up the phone, Dana turned to Monica
and tried to smile. "Jackie's a bit suspicious of new people."

"She's just being a good friend. And I can't blame her. I've had a few
experiences where things weren't as they seem either."

******

Mulder felt like someone was slowly extracting his brain through his nasal
cavities. And it wasn't getting any better. Getting to his feet slowly from
where he had been crouching over the bottom drawer of the file cabinet, he
handed a thick folder to the woman sitting behind the desk. What used to be
his desk.

"There's the last of them." Mulder paused. "I know you've got clearance for
the files here, but I have to warn you that you might find some of our cases
rather... unusual."

Tess looked at him sternly. "Are you insinuating that I might not believe
some of the work you and your partner have done?"

"No..."

"Then why assume that I wouldn't believe you?"

"Because..." He sputtered, suddenly selfaware. "Because not many people do."

"Well, I'm not 'many people'." She snorted. "And you're not the only one who
has seen odd things, Agent Mulder." Looking at her watch, she got to her
feet. "I'm out of here for the day. I'll expect you back here in the morning
to continue the review."

"Right." Mulder muttered, grateful to get his seat back. "See you then."

"Yes." Tess swept out the door in a graceful movement unlike any woman he had
ever met. Not that he had ever met a woman like her. Suppressing a shudder,
he looked at the time.

He barely had time to make it to Scully's and then home - pick up some pizza
on the way so he wouldn't have to deal with the disaster commonly referred to
as his kitchen.

And then another day without Scully.

This was going to be hell.

***********

Marty approached the apartment, whistling a jaunty tune. A whole week in town
had been hard to arrange, but he had managed it. Jackie must have been tied
up at work to not be there at the airport, but that didn't surprise him.
There wasn't much left about his fiance that did. Taking the keys out of his
pocket, he paused at the door.

Inside he heard the ominous sounds of crashing and cursing; the thick thump
of books falling and the tinkle of broken glass.

Either she was very, very upset or she was being robbed. And if the latter,
then they better head for the Mexican border before they got caught. Suddenly
the sounds disappeared. Slipping his key in the lock, he cautiously opened
the door, peering around the corner.

In a word, the apartment was trashed. The two bookcases had been pulled away
from the wall; the contents strewn across the floor amid the shatter remains
of what might have been coffee mugs or plates or something.

And off in the far corner, curled up in a ball and sobbing, sat St. George.

Gingerly making his way through the disaster area, he knelt by her; brushing
away the long hair where it had stuck to her wet skin.

"What's up?" He whispered, his voice betraying his worry.

"Dana..." She put the palm of her hand to her forehead, sniffling. "We were
sparring, and..."

"You were what?" His voice rose a few octaves in shock. "I didn't think she
was up to that - you know..."

"She isn't. Wasn't." The woman sniffled again. "She asked me to let her do a
workout, and I let her do it all - didn't work her half as hard as I could
have. Just took the shots."

"I see." He ran a finger down her exposed side; along the purple/black bruise
extending under the sweatshirt. "I'm assuming there's plenty more of these."

"She... nosebleed..." Jackie's voice trailed off as she mumbled. "Okay now,
but it was still scary..." Suddenly an arm lashed out, slamming into the wall
with intense force. Marty flinched as the fist withdrew slowly; leaving a
deep hole in the wall. "I shouldn't have done it."

"Love, you can't control Scully. Hell, Mulder can't do it and he's been with
her longer." This forced a chuckle from the distraught woman. "You know what
you need?"

A bout of giggles hit St. George; her hands over her face as she chortled.

"You've been hanging around Mulder too long." He said accusingly. "I'll run a
bubble bath and while you're in soaking I'll reassemble your living room. And
order the pizza."

"I can't lose her, Marty." She pulled her hands away from her face, suddenly
serious. "Everything I care about keeps being taken from me. Everything."

"Not me." He ran a finger down her cheek. Getting to his feet, he headed for
the bathroom.

"Not yet." She stared after him, whispering to the empty room.

*********

Mulder rapped gently at the door, checking his watch again. It was late, but
they had never lived in real time before. 

"Mulder, it's late." She chuckled, looking at the pizza box he balanced
precariously in his hands. "And I've already eaten."

"More for me, then." He walked past her. "So... feeling better?" 

"I'm fine." Crossing her arms in front of her, she shrugged. "Skinner sent
over a home care nurse."

"You're kidding." Mulder said through a mouthful of pepperoni. "For you?"

Scully nodded, sitting down opposite him and entwining her fingers. "Part of
the deal to have me get back into the field. He's being careful."

"Well, one of us has to be." He mumbled before swallowing. "Want to tell me
what the hell that sparring match was all about?"

"I was just..." She swiped at a loose red lock hanging just at the edge of
one eye. "I just wanted to work out and Jackie said that she'd play punching
bag for me..."

"And you scared the hell out of her and Skinner."

<and me>

Getting to her feet, she paced back and forth. "Mulder, it had nothing to do
with you or Skinner or even St. George. I just need to see what my limits are
and then see if I can keep pushing them. I have to be able to hold my own out
there with you."

"No, you don't." Standing up, he tossed the crust back into the pizza box.
"You don't have to be strong when you don't want to be or can't be." His
voice went soft, understanding. "I know you can handle yourself out there
when you have to. Hell, you do it better than I do sometimes. But you're
sick, very sick..." He couldn't force the c-word past his throat.

"Mulder, it's important to me to do this. And while I appreciate your concern
and Skinner's and St. George's; the decision is mine and mine alone to make."
She stood in front of him, looking up defiantly. "You can't put me in a box
and treat me like a china doll."

<I wish I could...>

"Scully..."

"I'm really tired, Mulder." Dragging a hand over her face, she yawned. "How
about we take this up again tomorrow?"

The pale pasty colour on her face confirmed her words. Nodding, Mulder
silently put the rest of the pizza in the kitchen and headed for the door.

"Call me if you need anything." He said quietly as she began to close the
door behind him.

"I promise."

"Anything."

"I said, I promise." She smiled. "'Night, Mulder."

***********

In the darkness she could feel it pulsating behind her closed eyes; imagine
it slowly growing and invading that which was Dana Katherine Scully. She
could hear the strained breathing; feel the pounding of the blood as it
continued to flow through her veins at least for a bit longer.

God, she was scared.

***********

He lay on the couch, limbs sprawled out at awkward angles as he stared at the
ceiling and waited for dawn. The familiar water stains and peeling paint
didn't cover the nausea that rolled about in the pit of his being. Taking a
deep breath, he wiped his eyes dry and turned to look at the glowing images
on the television screen.

***********

She thrashed her way awake; restrained gently by another's arms. Gulping for
air, she sighed and tried to forget the memories that haunted her dreams; of
the deaths she had seen and expected to see. Stretching out a hand, she felt
the cool metal of the revolver on the night table and shuddered.

**********

Opening the door, Marty stared at the young woman. "Yes?"

"Oh, you must be Marty." She shook his hand lightly. "I've come to see
Jackie. My name's Monica - I'm the home care worker with Dana."

"Ah..." Stepping aside to let her into the small apartment, the man paused.
"Jackie's just getting dressed - but have a seat. Would you like some
coffee?"

The woman paused, then shook her head. "No, thank you."

Passing by to pick up his own glass of pop, Marty glanced at her. Young, long
dark red flowing hair over her shoulders, quite beautiful. Must be something
wrong somewhere.

"I'll be out in a second, wook." A voice called from the bedroom. "This
blasted hair just bloody well won't braid and I don't think I have the
patience for it today..." Striding out with the loose hair falling over one
shoulder, she paused at seeing the woman seated on her couch. "Hello..." Her
eyes went to Marty for an explanation.

"Ah, this is Monica - Dana's worker. She just dropped by..." Marty shrugged.
"I'll get your tea."

"Okay..." Snapping the elastic around her hair and tossing it back in a
ponytail, she stared at the woman. "I wasn't under the impression that nurses
made visits to friends of their patients."

"Well, we usually don't." Monica smiled. "But Dana told me that she wanted to
sleep in until ten; and we usually try to learn as much about the patient's
friends to get all sides of the picture in relation to the illness."

"And she gave you my name and apartment?"

"She referred to you a lot. And that's usually a good sign of a close
friend."

"Right." Sitting down in the chair, St. George took the cup of tea from her
fiance and nodded. "So - what do you want to know?"

"When do the two of you plan to get married?" 

Marty blinked. "That's relevant to Dana's care?" Putting a hand on Jackie's
shoulder, he chuckled. "Maybe in a year or so. When things calm down enough
and we're sure the time is right."

"But when will you know?" The bright eyes searched the couple's. "I mean,
from what Dana told me anything could happen..."

St. George sat up straight, leaning forward. "Look, I'll talk to you about
Dana and her sickness and what we can do to help her - I'm not going to let
you dissect my relationship or..." She felt the calming hand on her shoulder
pulling her back.

"I worry." Marty admitted. "But she does what she does. It's a part of her
that I can't cut out because it is what she is."

"I see." Monica nodded. "Like Dana being a doctor and an agent?"

"Probably." Jackie grudgingly admitted. "Although I think she should take it
easy at times..."

"But it's what she is." Monica repeated back. "And if she's going to continue
doing her job, you have to respect that choice."

"But I don't have to like it." She snapped at the woman. "Mulder doesn't like
it; neither does Walter. And her mother..." Closing her eyes, the Canadian
sat back. "She took it kinda badly."

"Because Dana didn't tell her at first. Because she was afraid that her
mother would try to protect her from the rest of the world, take her home
with her and keep the rest of you away and what you do."

"You don't know that." Jackie retorted.

"But you think that's what she would have done."

"Maybe." Jackie sighed. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"What we just did."

"I don't understand."

"You will." Reaching over, Monica patted Jackie's knee as she got up. "Just
think on it for a bit and then come over to visit her. She needs her
friends."

********
"You're late, Agent Mulder." He flinched as he opened the door and heard the
stern voice. Already it was turning out to be a bad day.

"Sorry. Had trouble getting up." An understatement, judging from his
appearance. Tess sized him up; the loose tie and the ragged hair. He hadn't
slept much last night, if at all.

"Sit down. You look terrible." Her voice took on a sympathetic tone that
startled him. Wearily lowering himself into his chair, he watched as she sat
opposite him, flipping open the red and white striped folder.

"Says here that when Agent Scully was abducted that you kept the file open
for months on your own. Requested reports from all field offices; daily
updates from overseas; everything." Closing it, she crossed her hands on her
lap. "You really went the distance for her."

"She deserved it." Rubbing his face, he peered at the woman through his
fingers. "She would have done it for me."

"You think so?"

"I know so." With a sigh Mulder leaned back in his chair. "Scully's bailed me
out of enough situations that I know that she'd move heaven and earth to find
me if I disappeared. She's done it before."

"I see." Tess looked at him. "And now you're afraid of losing her. Again."

"Aren't you supposed to be digging through my receipts or something?" The
walls flew up between them silently.

"Part of my job is figuring out how important Agent Scully is to this
section, Agent Mulder." She said quietly. "How important she is to you."

<everything>

**********

Monica refilled her mug from the coffee pot and headed back into the living
room; sitting down across from Dana. "This is wonderful coffee."

"Well, it's not espresso, but..." The redhead shrugged. "We do the best with
what we have."

"Funny you should say that." She sung in that Irish lilt that caressed Dana's
ears. "I spoke to Jackie this morning..."

The agent almost spat out a mouthful of coffee; wiping the small drops from
her jeans and white blouse. "And she let you live? I thought that she'd
rather die than talk to anyone who wasn't cleared to her satisfaction."

"Well, I spent more of it talking to Marty, to be honest." Monica laughed.
"Talked about their wedding and what they were waiting for."

Dana frowned. "And he didn't kill you either. You must be special."

"You see, I pointed out to them that Jackie keeps putting herself in danger
despite the fact that she might not ever come back after a case and
eventually marry him. And do that settling down thing and all."

"I'm not sure if I'm following you here..." Dana warned. "Of course Marty
knew what she did when they met and when he proposed - and he knew she
wouldn't give it up. Even if he asked, she might think about it, but it's too
deep inside her - she couldn't quit."

"And that's true." Monica nodded. "But the same could be said for you."

Sitting back, Dana shook her head. "I'm not engaged."

"No, but you're very involved in the X Files. And you want to follow this
through to the end."

Dana's head began to spin suddenly; a sharp pain shattering her thoughts.
Putting the mug of coffee down, she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry - I can't
think about this right now."

"Are you all right?" Monica was sitting beside her now, watching her
intently. "Maybe you should lie down for a bit."

"Yes... just a bit of rest..." Getting to her feet, the redhead staggered
down the hallway to her bedroom and disappeared.

"She's close." Monica turned at the unfamiliar voice. The tall blonde man
smiled down at her.

"Andrew!" The welcome held an underlying tone of worry. "You're not here
to..."

"No." He shook his head. "But she's been thinking a lot lately about Death,
so I thought I'd check up on her myself - and then I found out that you and
Tess were on the case, so I'm just hanging around."

"Does Tess know you're here?"

"Of course." He smiled. "Actually, I have some information for you on Dana."
He sat down. "It seems that she's actually met us before..."

*********

"I'm really tired, Tess - can't we just call it a day and close up early?"
Mulder was trying to be tactful; but the biting tone in his voice was
evident. 

"A few more minutes." She put the folder down atop the high stack of files
sitting on the desk. Scully's desk, Mulder reminded himself. "It seems that
most everything's in order here."

"Well, I could have told you that. Scully makes sure everything runs smoothly
here - she's good at that."

"So what do you do for her?" Her eyes snatched at his.

"Uh..." He frowned, his eyebrows creasing in thought. "What do I do for her?"

"Uh-huh." The older woman stared at him. "It seems to me that she does a lot
here for you - keep your files straight; file the paperwork to keep the
department functional and manages to even get the receipts in on time for the
hotel reimbursements on your credit card. But what do you do for her in
return?"

"I... ah..." Mulder's groggy mind searched frantically under the stern gaze.
"She does it because she wants to. I mean, it's part of her job and all..." 

"Oh, I see." Getting to her feet, the African-American towered over him. "So
everything she does here is part of her job?"

"Well, not everything." He mumbled, feeling like he was a specimen under
microscopic study. "I mean, she goes the extra distance a lot..."

"Why?"

"Because she wants to. Because she enjoys her job."

"And her job is..."

"To help me solve cases!" He exploded finally, all the tiredness and anger
bursting out of him in a furious rage. "She's here because she's a dammed
good agent who wants to find the truth!"

"And what is the truth, Agent Mulder?" Tess said quietly, folding her hands
in front of her.

He stared at her blankly. She shook her head from side to side slowly.

"The truth is that you're so afraid of losing her that you're willing to give
up the search to save her, isn't it? And if you can't do that, you want to
protect her and keep her safe for as long as you can."

Mulder felt like someone had peeled back the top of his mind and looked
inside. He closed his eyes, willing the tears back.

When he opened them a few minutes later, she was gone.

********

"But what do you mean, we can't reveal ourselves to her?" Monica sat outside
Dana's apartment building in the red Cadillac; staring at Tess. Behind them,
Andrew sat quietly.

Tess shook her head, speaking slowly; as if to a child. "I said that you
can't just tell her that you're an angel. We've visited her before, and
that's part of the deal."

"But we always tell..."

"Look, Miss Wings; I don't make the rules. And He says that you are not to
tell anyone this time around." She raised her eyes up to the cloudy sky. "A
little bit of enlightenment, please..."

"Dana met an angel when she was in intensive care and almost died." The blond
man leaned forward between the two women, his voice soothing and low. "Owen
was there."

"Owen? But..." Monica cut off her words as Tess raised a warning finger. 

"At this point in her life it would be not in her best interests to actually
meet an angel." Tess said calmly. "She's had enough encounters that you
revealing yourself would distract her from her own inner revelations."

Monica still looked shocked. "But then how am I supposed to help her?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to say more than 'Hi, I'm an Angel. And don't
forget that we've intervened in less... concrete ways.'" Tess shrugged. "Part
of the job is also knowing what not to say." She turned to the man in the
back seat. "And you, Angel Boy - you better not start anything you're not
here to finish."

He raised his hands. "Tess, I really just came by with the information for
Monica. Honestly."

She snorted. "You might have thought that to start with, but I know it's more
than that." Looking at her watch, the woman sighed. "One more day and then
she's back to work. I think we better pick up the pace."

"I think so." A strange voice came from beside them. Monica's mouth hung open
as she stared at Jackie.

She stood quietly by the red car, her jacket casually flipped open to reveal
her revolver. "I think I deserve a few answers." A hand gestured at Andrew.
"And the first one is - where have I met you before?"

********

Dana lay on the bed, pacing her breathing as she tried to focus on the
ceiling over her head. These attacks didn't last long; but she had told
Monica to go home and leave her alone. And for once, the woman had agreed.
All she needed right now was a little peace and quiet and to think about what
Monica had said.

Or what she hadn't said.

God, she was afraid to die.

Not the real part; the soul leaving her body and all that. Because as she had
said to Mulder when they had been in that dammed ship; slowly aging and close
to death, she knew that they had nothing to fear. She knew that
instinctively; more than he did. The fear in his eyes had disappeared as she
stroked his wrinkled forehead, smiling as much as she could through cracked
lips. And when he had lost consciousness, she had murmured a prayer for him;
wanting to believe that he would walk the same road with her. Knowing that he
would, in his own way. Mulder wasn't one to ever do anything the easy way.

But the method scared her. It was one thing to go quick and fast; hit by a
car or shot in the head - another to slowly waste away until there was
nothing left of her but a shell. She had worried about that after she had
come out of the coma, thought about what would have happened to her if she
had stayed alive after they had pulled the life support. Years of lying
there, no escape or consciousness. Just floating.

Being with Mulder had brought so many revelations to her that they were hard
to catalogue and remember; so many cracks in her carefully created wall of
belief and faith. Faith in her government; her family; her own soul... Mulder
had taken that fragile bubble and turned it upside down so the snowflakes
twirled through the imaginary storm around the small figure inside; twisting
in the wet winds. She had had to reevaluate so much of her life before this
new danger.

She was tired. And scared. And so much wanted to believe.

********

Mulder looked around the empty office, letting his breath out slowly. Tess
had gone, and if he wanted to he could just close up shop and leave early. To
go home and wade through the magazines and add to the files carefully stacked
on his shelves. But he knew he wanted more than that tonight.

He wanted his partner.

He needed Scully.

Needed to hold her; to talk to her. Just to try and explain how scared he was
and how helpless he felt and that he wouldn't ever fail her if he could.

Taking the car keys out of his pocket, he reached for his jacket.

********

"Excuse me?" Andrew said politely from his position in the back seat. St.
George shook her head.

"I've seen you somewhere..." Her attention shifted to the two women. "And
you're the Tess who's been giving Mulder fits. Not that it's a bad thing,
but..."

"But you want to know what relationship I have with Monica here and if we're
endangering your friends." Tess finished the sentence calmly. "You do take
your job seriously."

Jackie smiled. "Call it a habit."

Taking her hands off the steering wheel, Tess nodded. "A family trait, I'd
call it. You've got the same gumption your great-great-great-grandfather
had."

St. George chuckled. "And I'll assume you knew him personally."

Turning to stare at her, Tess nodded. "Actually, I did. And he was as much of
a stubborn fool as you are."

A muscle twitched in the woman's face, but she didn't move from her spot
beside the Cadillac.

"Andrew, why don't you take a walk with Jackie here." Tess's voice was calm
but definitely authoritative. Without saying a word the tall man stepped out
of the car. "We've got things to do - and don't worry about Marty - he'll
stay in the car over there until you're finished." The car started up,
rolling down the road sedately.

St. George looked at the man. "So... talk to me about who you and your
friends are and what you're here for."

Clasping his hands in front of him, Andrew smiled. "You should know."

********

Marty sat in the front seat of the car, watching them intently. Jackie had
told him to stay back and to be ready to call for backup if she got into
trouble.

He didn't tell her that he was her backup; as far as he was concerned.

Now she was standing there, talking to this guy while the two women drove off
down the street; Monica and this other woman.

This was no way to spend his vacation.

*******

Walking into the garage, Mulder looked for his car and didn't see it.
Grumbling quietly to himself, he walked over to the security guard. 

"Where's my car?"

"Oh, Mr. Mulder..." The elderly man scratched the back of his head
sheepishly, pushing the cap further up his head. "They had to tow it and the
three cars on each side of it because they had a problem with one of the
pipes." He gestured to the construction area. "They told me that they moved
all of them outside and contacted you."

"Didn't contact me." Mulder grunted as he started the walk up the ramp
towards the outside lot.

At the top he groaned again, seeing indeed, his car. With a flat tire.
Somehow the attendants had managed to drag it over some broken glass while
removing it and the jagged shard still stuck out of the tire. With a sound
suspiciously between a curse and a cry, he opened the trunk and got out the
tire iron.

"Agent Mulder." He looked up, blinking in astonishment at the red Cadillac
filling his view. And driving it was Tess. "Having some problems today?"

He shrugged. "Just the usual bad luck." Rapping the tire iron on the side of
the car, he looked around at the snow still filling the Bureau's parking lot.
"I was going to do some work before you got back from lunch."

"Oh, that's fine." She smiled. "Why don't I give you a lift?"

Mulder paused, weighing the cost. "I'm not coming back to work."

"That's fine." She swung the door open. "Neither am I."

*********

Scully lay in bed; the comforter pulled up high around her neck as she curled
up in a small ball and dozed fitfully, her mind racing through the
possibilities.

She was walking in a garden; her mother's garden at one of the homes they had
had when she was little and they were typical Navy brats, travelling to a new
base every year or so. Missy had loved this particular garden, working in the
thick rich dirt to try and make the best flowers bloom. They had only been
there a year; but the spring had been wonderful. The rose bushes had sprung
forth in brilliant reds and whites; the other flowers paling in comparison
but still as beautiful.

They had left it sadly; with Missy sternly extracting a promise from the new
occupants to keep it just like that, her eyes flaming as she dutifully
detailed every bit of information about the garden.

It was just as she remembered it. The fresh spring air drifted by; the
slightest scent of the roses touching her senses.

"Hello, Dana."

She spun, expecting to see Missy. But instead she saw Monica. Dana frowned.

"Monica?"

"Well, I know you'd like to see your sister, but I'm here instead." Stepping
forward, the woman smiled. "She did a wonderful job here."

"She took it personally." Dana stooped down by a rose bush; putting the
newly-opened blossom to her nose. "She used to talk to them. We all laughed,
but she said it helped them to grow."

"You must miss her a lot." Monica said softly.

"Every day." Standing back up, Dana looked around the small enclosure. "Mom
does as well; but I keep thinking that it was supposed to be me instead of
her. Now it doesn't matter much, does it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm going to die anyway. Maybe in five years, maybe in ten. But
there's no cure for this; not right now. And I know that we might be able to
hold this thing back; but we can't get rid of it totally. And I hate the way
it rules my life." She kicked at a small stone in the path. "The way Mulder
watches me sometimes... the way they worry over me - I might as well have
died; the way they hover like I'm about to keel over."

"You don't mean that." Monica sat on the small wrought-iron bench. Dana shook
her head. 

"No, you're right. But it's so frustrating not to be able to do what I want -
always knowing that they're watching me and thinking about what could happen;
that I might just pass away in front of their eyes. And it's not from a
gunshot or something tangible; this mass, this tumour - it's ruling my life
and theirs."

"Because you let it."

"Mulder lets it. St. George lets it. Skinner lets it." The redhead sat down
beside Monica with a sigh. "My mother insists that I call her once a day to
tell her that I'm fine. And even if I'm feeling rotten, I lie to her. Because
I can't stand to think of the pain she's going through."

"Seems that you've come to terms with your dying but not your living." Monica
prompted. Dana stared at her.

"What?"

"You're strong and able to do your job. You can still get out there and go
the distance with Mulder. Instead you worry about what they think about you
and what limits they want to put on you. But you're putting the limits on
yourself." Seeing the confusion in the agent's eyes, she continued. "You went
into that sparring match knowing that you'd overextend yourself; push your
limits. And then you were surprised that you were ill because of it. And then
you were shocked at the reaction of those who care about you."

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Dana stared at the ground. "I told
Mulder in the hospital that I would beat this; and I still think I can.
Sometimes. But the logical part of me is so strong to say that it's
impossible, that I'm just fighting the incoming tide."

"You have to be strong for him as well as for yourself; that's true."
Monica's voice flowed over her like honey. "But you have to have faith in
your ability to fight this. Your logic might tell you one thing; but your
heart tells you another."

"I have faith at times." Dana started. "But then I just get so mad; at
Mulder, at the system... at God..." Her voice trailed off.

"Well, that's understandable." The woman rocked back and forth on the seat.
"Most people see disease as being a curse from Him; a punishment on the
unworthy or the unfaithful."

"I haven't thought much about that lately." The redhead confessed. "But I
wonder if He's out there; and if He is what He must think."

"Dana, you once said 'What if God is talking and no one is listening.'" The
words shocked the agent into sitting up straight, staring at the woman beside
her. "I'm here to tell you that He is listening, and watching - and wants you
to know that He hasn't forgotten any of His children. Least of all Dana
Katherine Scully."

Dana looked at her blankly; remembering that this was a dream.

*********

"Walk with me." Andrew tucked his hands into his coat and sauntered down the
sidewalk. Casting a glance over her shoulder towards her car and the man
inside, Jackie caught up in a few long strides.

"Are you working for the government? Why are you here?" She said in a low but
threatening voice. "I don't know where those two went off to; but I warn you
that if they hurt Dana or Fox..."

He stopped for a second and turned towards her. "You said you remembered me.
Do you know from where?"

She shook her head, confusion evident on her face. "I don't know. But then,
I've had enough hits on the head that I'm not surprised."

"I'm the Angel of Death." He said nonchalantly.

The Canadian stared at him for a minute and then broke into laughter.
Standing stoically for a few minutes, he watched her regain her composure;
wiping her eyes.

"Man, that's good. Did I mention that I double as the Easter Bunny on my days
off?" She chortled. 

Andrew smiled, letting a chuckle escape. "Look at me." He said softly.

Jackie took a deep breath and stared directly at him. Suddenly a glow
enveloped him; running around the edges of his body and sending a shimmering
through the air. 

"Oh, my God..." She whispered.

"Exactly." He nodded. "And He doesn't want you to be the Easter Bunny."

*******

Marty frowned, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Jackie and that guy
had walked along the wall, then stopped as he started to talk to her. And she
looked terrified.

Time for backup.

Putting his hand on the car door, he went to get out and go to her.

*******

"Agent Scully's place?" Tess drove along the street, easily avoiding the icy
patches that appeared in the road.

"Uh-huh." Mulder sat quietly. "This is a nice car. You can't tell me you
bought this on what the Bureau pays you."

She laughed. "I keep it for special occasions. Like this." Stopping at a red
light, the woman turned towards him. "So what are you going to say to your
partner?"

"Ah..." Mulder felt the walls inside him crack; the natural reluctance to let
anyone into his thoughts vanish. "I just want to tell her that I can't stop
worrying about her. But I know she has to keep working. She must keep
working."

"And you?" She interrogated him like a master. The light turned green.

"I'll just... manage." He let out a heavy sigh. "But it's so hard when I see
her  working as hard as she can and trying to keep up; not fall back or
expect any special attention because of the tumour. I just want to..." His
hands curled up in his lap. "I just don't want her to die."

"I'm sure she feels the same way." Tess noted. "But you have to tell her that
so she understands where you're coming from; what you expect from her. And
what she expects from you." The car slid quietly up to the curb in front of
the apartment house.

Mulder blinked. "Wha.... that was fast."

"It's a Caddy." She stroked the dashboard lovingly. "She's my baby. Now you
go inside and do what you have to do."

"Right." Getting out the car, he bent down. "Ah... you better go. This could
be a while."

She smiled. "I've got some errands to run."

*********

"I was there when your mother died. And your father." Andrew said quietly. "I
was there when you killed that man the first time; and I've been here all the
other times." He paused. "Not as often now, I must admit."

"Are you..." She swallowed. "Here for Dana? Fox? Marty? Me?" Her hands dove
into her jacket pockets.

"Don't do that." He warned her with a sad smile on his face. 

Pulling her left hand out; she carefully put her palm against the wall beside
them, feeling the tacks press against her hand. "I won't let you take them."
Jackie growled. "You'll have to go through me first before you take any of
them."

"Don't..." 

She pressed hard against the stone; whimpering as the points ripped through
her flesh and waiting for the rush of static to roar over her, the blood
boiling in her veins.

Except nothing happened. Lifting her hand from the cold wall; she stared at
the red liquid now running freely down her arm.

And slammed it against the wall again.

And again.

And again, until the pain was too much to take and she slumped down onto the
sidewalk, holding her mangled hand as the tears broke free.

Kneeling down, Andrew shook his head. "Your Gift doesn't work for evil. You
know that. When your ancestor made the Pact with the earth; with God, it was
to be a protector and a helper. Not a destroyer."

She looked at him. "You've come for me?" The words hissed out through pained
lips. "Because I've broken the Pact?"

"No. Not for any of you." Gently taking her hand, he pulled off the glove and
dropped it on the ground. The gored and bloody palm stared up at him. "God
wants you to know that He has faith in you and Fox and Dana; that you will do
what you know is right and will succeed in the end."

"Will they?" She let out a groan as she tried to flex the fingers; feeling
the torn tendons and muscles refuse to move.

"You know the answer to that." Gently pulling his palm down over the bloody
mess, he clasped her hand. "And as for you - you're not the first St. George
to have wandered off the path. But that's free will for you. And you've done
a good job finding your way back."

He released her hand, revealing a flawless and unscarred palm. She let out a
whimper mixed with a giggle at the sight.

"When your father first saw you, he was worried. The firstborn for decades
had been a male; and now a woman. He was terrified of what you would have to
do; what you would have to put up with. But he loved you. As did your
mother." Standing up, he held out his hand to her. "Sometimes you have to
walk close to Death to see what it means to live."

She took his hand and stood up. "Now what happens?" Her mind spun with the
words.

"Go home and know that nothing happens without His knowledge. And that He
cares for all His children, including you." Andrew waved a hand towards the
car behind them. "And spend your vacation doing something other than caring
for your friends. They'll be fine." He smiled. "I think the two of you can
manage that."

"Monica... Tess..." Jackie breathed out the names. "They're..."

He nodded. "But I'll assume you know you can't say anything."

St. George giggled. "Mulder's the crazy one in this group. Me, I'm..."

Marty put his hand on the door, opening it to get out. Turning his head to
reach for the pistol on the passenger seat, he stopped.

Jackie sat there, her eyes closed.

He glanced out towards the wall; where he had seen the two people seconds
before. Then back towards the woman at his side, slowly opening her eyes.

"Jackie?" He frowned, really confused this time.

She smiled at him, wiping her eyes. "Let's go home."

"But that guy... you wanted to check on Dana..." He sputtered. She shook her
head, putting her left hand atop his leg. 

"Home. And then I have a story to tell you." Reaching in her pocket, she
withdrew the still-bloody glove. "And I think Dana's going to be all right."

*********

"You're an Angel from God, aren't you? Right." Dana looked around the garden.
"The tumour must be causing hallucinations now." She let out a sigh. "Of
course."

"Whether you believe in me or not isn't the point, now is it?" Monica's
accented voice met her ears. "The point is that He believes in you and knows
your fear and your pain. And that He wants you to know that He will be with
you through this."

"And Mulder?" An uncharacteristic laugh broke free. "He doesn't believe in
anything. If I tell him that I dreamt that God..."

"He believes in his own way, Dana." Putting her hand atop the agent's, Monica
smiled. "But you have to realise that your life is much more important right
now than planning for your death. And while it's fine to push your limits;
pushing too far is just as bad as sitting back and waiting to die."

"Suicide's still a sin, I take it." Dana joked uncomfortably.

"Well, it's not really wanted. But not taking care of yourself is just as
much a sin." Monica stood up. "He wants you to keep strong and keep fighting
- and to know that He has plans for you that you can't know just yet."

"Will I die?" The words were forced out softly.

"Everyone dies, Dana." Monica let out a soft laugh. "But not everyone lives
to their full potential. Live, Dana."

*********

Letting himself in with his key, Mulder paused in the front hallway. He
couldn't hear anything - the home care worker must have left. 

"Scully?" He called out hopefully, wishing that she had felt well enough to
leave and go shopping or something like that. "Scully?"

Turning the corner, he poked his head into the bedroom and paused.

She was there.

All curled up in the blankets; fiery hair loose and tangled on the pillow.
Her lips the slightest bit apart as if she were talking to someone.

He felt so intrusive he almost turned and left.

But he had come here to talk to her, and he'd be dammed if he'd deal with
this for another day.

Stepping inside the room, he sat on the edge of the bed; just watching her.
Watching the blankets rise and fall with her steady breathing. Watching her
live.

Mulder tangled his hands together; intertwining the fingers. "Ah...
Scully..."
Clearing his throat, he spoke softly; as if not to wake her but to still say
the words.

"I was so scared when you told me about the tumour. So scared that they would
somehow manage to take you away from me again. And that this time there was
no chance of you being returned." A deep sign roared from his chest. "I went
to Skinner; told him that I'd make a deal with Smoking Man for the cure -
anything he wanted. The X Files, my badge - anything. Just to save you.
Skinner said it wasn't worth it if I sold my soul to save you. He was right."

Stretching out a hand, he ran it along the blanket; down her side. "I didn't
think about asking you. What you wanted. But I want you to be around for as
long as you can, be by my side for the trip."

Shaking his head, Mulder continued. "I know I don't say it well, Scully...
Hell, I don't do a lot of things by the book. But I need you to know that I
do worry about you so much that it kills me to see you pushing yourself;
pushing your limits to keep up with me and trying so hard to make it look
like nothing's wrong. That the nosebleeds are just an accident. That you're
not tired from the driving, the plane rides. But it burns me up inside that I
have to even watch you go."

"But I can't ask you to stay home. As much as I'd like to wrap you up in
cotton and put you inside a glass box and keep you safe; that'd kill you
faster than that dammed tumour."

"I guess I just need you to know that I'm with you in this fight; but I get
scared at times. Scared that I'll have to go to work and see an empty desk
one day; know that it'll be empty forever. Because there'd never be anyone
else worthy enough to sit there. No one good enough for the hunt."

"But don't get mad at me or yourself when you falter; when you can't go the
distance once or twice. I understand, and you've got to. Because I need you
to live, Scully. To live through your work and with me; not to sit at home
and die even though you're still breathing. I need you with me."

He stopped, his ragged breathing the only sound in the room.

"Mulder..."

The soft voice shocked him, and he dragged his eyes up to her face; seeing
the deep eyes staring at him.

"Oh." He leapt off the bed quickly, embarrassed at being caught. "I thought
you were... I mean, you were sleeping, and I..." The tall agent gestured at
the door. "I let myself in, and..."

"Mulder..." Reaching out, she took his hand. "I'm coming back to work
tomorrow. And I promise I'll be careful."

He felt the deep red flush cross his face; suddenly acutely aware of where he
was. "Oh. Good. I think Tess is finished the audit anyway, and I've got some
new files I want you to look at." Squeezing her hand one last time, he took a
step backwards. "Ah... how about some dinner?"

"Chinese food sounds good." She smiled at him, making his heart skip a beat.
"Let me get changed and I'll be out in a bit."

"Remember that old saying - 'may you live in interesting times'?" Mulder
stood in the doorway, about to disappear from view. "I think it's more of a
curse."

"Maybe." She rubbed her eyes. "But I think that live is the operative word
here."

"Yah, well..." He stepped out of sight and down the hallway. "I'll call for
the usual while you... whatever..."

Scully slowly got out of bed, reaching for the robe. It was time to wake up
and get back to work.

********

Tess stood in the corner of Scully's bedroom, nodding approvingly at Monica.
"Not bad... not bad at all..."

"But was this what I was supposed to do? Just remind her that she has a duty
to live?" Monica frowned. "It's so simple..."

"Of course it is. Which is why she forgot it. It's much easier to work
yourself to the limit and then claim new boundaries on your limitations and
sickness than to live within them and keep fighting." Tess gave a shake of
her head. "We're outta here."

"But does she die? Of the tumour?"

Tess shrugged. "Free will. He created it, they use it. Or abuse it."

"Oh." The woman nodded. "They do make a nice couple..."

"Not my area. Nor yours." In a warning tone, Tess waved a finger. "Leave that
up to them."

"Can I drive the car, then?"

Tess let out a groan.

**************