Life from the Ashes -- Prequel

Summary: This is an Alternative Universe Story. The consortium has been exposed and shortly after the aliens unleash a lethal virus on the earth that has devastating effects.

Authors Notes: This is the prequel to my AU series. "Life from the Ashes."

I would like to thank my beta-readers Laurie, Cerulean Blue, and Kiyoko for all their hard work and patience in editing this story and plot suggestions.

Constructive feedback is always welcome. Any story suggestions are appreciated.

WARNING! This story contains UST between two men, turn back now, if the subject matter offends you.

Okay to Archive: please ask first.

***

Prequel
Chapter 1

Reflection Pool
Thursday, January 2
1:00 p.m.

Mulder leaned back on the park bench huddling deeper into his long, black, woolen overcoat. His hands were buried deeply within its pockets against the bitter chill of the midwinter day. He gazed out over the frozen winter landscape. Last night there had been a two-inch snowfall that repainted the brown drab ground a pristine white.

He felt physically and mentally drained from the previous month's momentous events. After a mountain of evidence and hundreds of arrests, they had finally achieved what Scully and he had worked many long years to prove, and the global conspiracy against the population of earth was finally busted wide open and the imminent invasion by a race of hostile aliens exposed. The case was garnering a lot of press coverage and there were thousands of protesters daily outside of the nation's Capital. However, a large portion of the public still wouldn't or couldn't believe the reports. The feared public panic didn't happen. Mulder wondered if it would have made a difference if the public knew that this was the year that the aliens had chosen to start their invasion.

He sighed inwardly; endless days of testimony before the Senate had left him exhausted. He needed to get away from the crush of reporters and from Congress and their endless questions that left his head aching. He spent the last forty-eight hours pouring through boxes of evidence seized recently from one of the main research labs of the consortium, finding additional information on collaborators within the military and upper echelons of government. Mulder's main search was for more information on the alien virus and a possible cure, it continued to elude him -- he knew that time was running out.

A shadow fell across him startling him out of his thoughts.

"Agent Mulder." Skinner brushed the remaining snow off the bench, settling his larger frame next to Mulder's on the park bench, their thighs and shoulders touching.

"Sir, how did you find me here?" Mulder asked, feeling the comforting warmth of the other man's body pressed closely to his, shielding that part of him from the cold January air.

"I followed you here from the Hoover building," he replied gruffly.

"Why? Is there something you need?"

"Agent Mulder, I would like you to take a few days off. You've been working non-stop for the past month, it's not healthy," Skinner advised softly, he had noted the dark shadows under the agent's eyes and his overall haggard appearance.

"With all due respect, sir, I don't need you to nursemaid me," Mulder snapped bitterly.

"Agent Mulder, you can't go on doing everything by yourself. I've assigned a team of agents to help you. Let them!" Skinner growled.

"Sir, I don't trust anyone except Scully and you. How can you expect me to turn over vital evidence to . . . these agents?"

"Mulder, I handpicked these men and I even did the background checks myself. Agents Sullivan, Pipino, Boutotte, and Underwood are all above-board! Mulder, trust me, there is no way that I would assign another consortium spy to work with you," Skinner replied, exasperated.

"Even so, at this stage in the game I don't want to chance it."

"Damnit, Mulder, at this stage of the game is the perfect time! They've been exposed! The evidence is out before the public, they cannot hide it any longer -- you have won," Skinner argued. "Now I don't want to see you in the office until Monday, is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir," Mulder spat. Pushing himself up off the bench, he angrily stormed back to the Hoover Building. He'd just take the documents home with him and study them there. He didn't trust the other agents even if Skinner did.

Skinner watched him sadly as he walked away. The man could be absolutely infuriating; if he weren't so . . . Skinner quickly stopped that line of thought. He'd have to make sure that Mulder didn't try to take any work home with him; he wouldn't put it past him.

***

Colorado
Secret Underground Military Installation
Saturday, January 4
9:00 a.m.

Colonel Calvin Henderson strolled purposely down the long corridor on his way to the war room, passing the two marines guarding the entrance to the room. Inside was abuzz with activity.

"Colonel Henderson, sir, the deep space radar is picking up a large fleet of alien spaceships on course with earth," Captain Benton told him as he handed over the recent printouts of the fleet's trajectory and ETA.

"So, it finally begins." Henderson smiled; he had been looking forward to this day for years.

The whole room became quiet as General Thomas entered. He was an intensely intelligent man who instilled instant respect in those under his command. Thomas was the new base commander, taking the place of General Watson who had been court-martialed on conspiracy and treason charges. The general looked over the people in the room; he didn't know how many of them had been a part of the conspiracy, the investigation was still ongoing. Although he suspected Henderson, there was no hard evidence against him.

"Sir." Henderson snapped to attention saluting the general, then handed him the latest printouts.

"Are our defenses ready?" General Thomas barked.

"Yes, sir. Everything is in top working order."

"See that is stays that way, Colonel," he growled, turning to leave -- he needed to call the President and report the situation.

***

Mulder's Apartment
Sunday, January 5
noon

"I'm fine, Scully. How's your mom?" Mulder asked. He leaned up against his kitchen counter, sipping a mug of coffee as he talked with her over his cell phone.

"She sends her love, Mulder. Bill, Tara, and the baby are here, we've been arguing non-stop about the existence of aliens. I can't believe that I'm trying to convince my bullheaded brother that they really do existence," Scully chuckled, finding the situation absurd.

Mulder wandered over to the window, looking out at the sedan parked across the street. "Skinner doesn't trust me, Scully. He's assigned a team of agents to make sure I don't leave my apartment this weekend. If I need anything I'm suppose to send them for it, can you believe the man's gall?"

"Mulder, Skinner only wanted you to take a few days off … you didn't have to cause a scene by trying to sneak out two large boxes of documents, it's your own fault. Besides, he's been concerned about your safety, he thinks the consortium might try to get even with you."

"It's the principle of the whole thing, Scully! I don't like him controlling what I do on my personal time." He sank down on the sofa and flipped on the television while catching still talking to Scully. He caught a few seconds of the basketball game before the game was interrupted by a special bulletin.

"Fuck! Scully, turn on the television!" Mulder shouted into the phone, his head swung toward the window as the air raid sirens started sounding outside.

The broadcaster was advising all residents not to panic and to go in an orderly manner to the nearest shelter.

"Shelter, like hell," Mulder muttered.

"Oh my God, Mulder," Scully gasped over the connection.

"Scully, I think you'd better collect your family and head to a shelter. I'll talk to you later," Mulder said, ending the call. He pulled on his running shoes then went to get his gun.

Walter Skinner was just turning the corner to Mulder's apartment building when the sirens sounded; flipping on his radio, he heard the broadcast. His heart rate increased and sweat broke out on his brow as he pulled to a stop in front of his agent's building.

Agents Sullivan and Underwood rushed over to meet him. "Sir, is it true? Are the aliens really attacking?" Skinner stepped back to avoid the crush of people pouring out into the streets.

"Yes, it's true . . . " before he could continue, a young woman with two small children ran up to him.

"Please, help me. I don't know where to go," she begged. More people stopped, noticing the men in dark suits and overcoats who were clearly government officials.

"Agents, show these people to the shelter on 4th and Hegel, I'm going to collect Agent Mulder, we'll meet you there," Skinner barked, racing into Mulder's building, he literally ran into his agent coming out of the stairwell.

"Skinner, what are you doing here?" Mulder gasped, extracting himself from his boss's arms after nearly running him over.

"Mulder, Agents Sullivan and Underwood are assisting your neighbors to the nearest shelter, we're meeting them there," Skinner hastened, forcibly grabbing Mulder's arm and dragging him out of the building.

"Sir, if you don't mind, you're tearing a hole in my leather jacket."

"Sorry," Skinner replied sheepishly, letting go of Mulder's arm. The two men made their way down the street with Mulder leading the way.

"Don't you think we should head directly to the Hoover building?" Mulder asked, stopping across the street from the shelter and watching as a large crowd tried to force their way in and a fight broke out between two men.

"After we calm the situation here first," Skinner said, stepping into the fray, he forced the two men apart.

Mulder watched with a sense of pride as Skinner single handedly got the situation under control. When a third man tried to cold cock the A.D. from behind, Mulder quickly pressed his gun into the man's back. "I wouldn't if I were you," he snarled, taking the steel pipe out of the man's hand.

Agents Sullivan and Underwood were just coming out of the shelter. "Mulder, is this piece of shit giving you trouble?" Sullivan growled.

"No, but he did try to brain the A.D. with this piece of pipe . . . I think he should probably sit out the attack in a downtown jail cell," Mulder replied venomously.

"No, please, you can't! I was only trying to defend my brother-in-law," the man pleaded near tears.

"You were trying to protect your brother-in-law by caving in the skull of an Assistant Director of the FBI! Buddy, that was a really smart move," Sullivan snarled with contempt.

"I didn't know who he was. Please, I have a family, don't do this," the man groveled.

"Let him go," Skinner ordered. The sidewalk was nearly empty; all of the people had gone into the shelter.

"Thank you," the man said, rushing past them into the shelter.

"We need to get back to the FBI and coordinate our efforts with the other government agencies. Come along, Mulder, you're riding with me," Skinner said, rushing off down the road.

Mulder glanced back at the other two agents, shrugging his shoulders; they all quickly followed Skinner toward their cars.

***

"It's going to be okay, Tara," Bill Scully murmured to his wife as they drove in bumper to bumper traffic trying to make it to the nearest shelter. Dana and Margaret Scully were in the backseat with Bill's son Matthew.

"Bill, head to the J. Edgar Hoover Building in D.C., there's a shelter in the sub-basement," Scully ordered, after realizing even if they got to a local shelter at this point it would probably be filled. They were already heading in the direction of Washington D.C. anyway.

"Aliens? Damn, Dana, that crazy partner of yours has been right all along," Bill grumbled.

"Bill, Mulder was never crazy. Obsessed and paranoid, but never crazy." She pulled out her cell phone to call him.

"Mulder."

"It's me. Mulder, we're on our way to the Hoover Building, where are you?"

"I'm with Skinner, we're heading for the Hoover, too." Mulder glanced over at the larger man driving. "Scully, wouldn't it be better to seek a closer shelter? It's going to take you at least an hour to make it here."

"Mulder, the traffic isn't nearly as heavy heading into D.C. as it is heading out. I think too many people remembered what happened to D.C. in that movie 'Independence Day'," she joked. "Besides, I want to be there with you."

"Okay, Scully, we'll see you here," Mulder replied, disconnecting.

"Damn, I thought we still had time. Why are they attacking now?" Mulder swore angrily, wondering if exposing the consortium and their plans had anything to do with the early attack.

Skinner glanced over at him. "Agent Mulder, you found the recent documents outlining this as the year that the invasion was to begin. I doubt that the aliens would move up their timetable by a few months, what would be the point? They had already lost the element of surprise." The A.D. didn't know how the Earth was going survive an attack by a superior race. He glanced at the beautiful man sitting next to him with deep regret . . . if he only had more time.

"I suppose you're right. I just hope the Star Wars Defense Grid holds up against the attack," Mulder muttered.

"Defense grid? Would you mind telling me just what the hell that is?" Skinner asked, pulling into Hoover's parking lot.

"Ronald Reagan, remember him? He funded the project under the guise that it was a defensive shield against Soviet nuclear missiles. In actuality, it was a major defensive weapons grid to use against attacks from hostile aliens. This planet is surrounded by satellites -- most of which house high powered laser canons." Mulder unfolded himself from the front seat, climbing out of the car.

"Agent Mulder, I know what Star Wars was purported to be . . . just how did you find out about the details of this project? I take it the defense grid was classified top secret," Skinner asked as they rushed into the Hoover Building followed closely by Sullivan and Underwood.

"Hey, it was on all the news programs in the early eighties . . . I'm surprised you never heard of it," Mulder smirked.

"Mulder, there was never anything about defense grids for hostile alien attacks on the news in the eighties." Skinner's voice warned. "Out with it," he growled, stepping into the elevator.

Mulder shrugged his shoulders. "I have my contacts, sir." He gave the larger man a mischievous look. "Do you want to know about our nation's advanced spaceships?"

Before Skinner could answer his cell phone chirped. "Skinner."

"Yes, sir, I'm in the building now. Okay, I'll be right up. Agent Mulder? He's standing beside me. I see. Very good, sir," Skinner disconnected, turning back to Mulder. "The Director would like to see us up in his conference room. He's on a video conference call with the President, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and several other government agencies."

***

Bill Scully pulled into the Hoover Building parking lot forty minutes later. Dana Scully used her ID to get them through security and downstairs to the shelter where all nonessential personnel had gone. There were around seventy people in the large underground room that was built to hold five hundred. It would have been filled if it had been a weekday.

"Mom, I'm going to find Mulder," Scully said, heading for the door.

"Dana, wouldn't it be safer for you to stay here?" Margaret Scully asked nervously, following her daughter to the reinforced iron doors.

"Mom, I'll be fine. Go back and help Bill with Tara and Matthew," Scully replied, slipping out of the room. She went up a flight of stairs that led from the subbasement to the basement. She opened the door to hers and Mulder's office, finding it empty, then pulled out her cell phone and called her partner.

"Mulder," He answered in a hushed tone.

"It's me, where are you?"

"I'm in the Director's video conference room. Where are you?" he whispered.

"In the basement, I'll be right up," Scully replied, disconnecting.

The Director's conference room was packed, all the upper echelon in the FBI were present. She went to her partner's side, smiling inwardly as she compared him to the more conservatively dressed men in the room. He looked drop dead gorgeous in his tight black jeans and a black pullover sweater, the black leather jacket was draped over the back of his chair completed his sexy ensemble. The few days of forced rest had done him a world of good.

"Hey, partner." Mulder smiled up at her, he was about to offer her his chair when the Director spoke up.

"Agent Scully, good of you to join us, please take a seat with the other agents." He motioned to the chairs along the wall where several of the bureaus senior agents sat.

"Yes, sir." She stepped away from the conference table and took the chair directly behind Mulder.

A five-foot by ten-foot video screen at the front of the room showed the President and his Joint Chiefs, and at times, it switched over to the war room underneath the mountains in Colorado. The room where the President's call was originating from appeared to be in an underground bunker. Scully noticed the iron door when the camera panned over to Admiral Nelson.

"The grid is holding," General Thomas informed the room. A video camera mounted to one of the satellites showed a picture of one of the alien spaceships being disintegrated by a high powered laser.

The room exploded into cheers and relieved sighs. Mulder sat perfectly still, he didn't join in the celebration. He feared what would happen if even one of those ships were to make it through the grid. Then it happened, the General announced that four of the alien ships had made it through the shield. The U.S. had launched their top-secret fighters and the room held its breath. Soon, the announcement came that all four alien ships had been destroyed.

"General Thomas, were the ships destroyed before they reached the planet's surface?" Mulder asked.

"Agent Mulder, two crafts were destroyed in the mesosphere, but the other two crafts were shot down and crashed into populated areas," the General stated solemnly. He was one of the few people privy to recent information about the alien virus uncovered by Agents Mulder and Scully. The two agents had been instrumental in exposing several top military personnel involved with the consortium. They were still in the process of housecleaning, but they had been successful in removing a large number of military personnel from key positions.

"We're going to need to quarantine those areas immediately. Absolutely no one within a ten mile radius of each site should be allowed to leave the area," Mulder replied, anxiously. "Where did the ships go down?"

"One of the ships crashed in Beijing, China, and the other just outside of Denver. Alien weapons hit four cities before they were shot down: Johannesburg, Rio de Janeiro, Berlin, and Istanbul." General Thomas informed them.

"Then those cities will have to be sealed off, too." Mulder replied.

The President spoke up directing the Joint Chiefs. "I want those cities and crash sites quarantined, send a team to China. Contact NATO and the UN, we're going to need their troops to seal off the four cities that were hit in Europe, Africa, and South America."

"Agent Mulder, would you like to fill us in on just what is going on?" the Director asked.

"The aliens have developed a lethal virus, it was to be their first means of attack. If it gets out into the general population it will have devastating effects," Mulder reported to a shocked audience.

"This is Doctor David Jacobson with the CDC. Agent Mulder, just what does the virus do?" he asked, over the conference-phone.

"We haven't been able to find the consortium documents on the symptoms, yet. Our information is all second hand. We only know that it's supposed to kill an undesirable segment of the population and cause undefined mutations in the remainder. The aliens want to turn the survivors into a slave race," Mulder answered. Over the last few weeks, he and Scully had discussed what they knew about the virus. They both assumed that the undesirable segment mentioned by the alien rebel were the elderly and the infirm.

Stunned silence filled the room, broken only by the announcement from General Thomas. "The aliens are pulling back -- we've won this round." No one in the room cheered, their moods had turned solemn by Mulder's news.

The Director turned to Skinner. "Walter, I want you and your agents to quadruple your efforts. I'm reallocating funds and expanding the X-Files," he stated. "Agent Mulder, as of this minute I'm promoting you to SAC. You have full authority to use any means necessary to retrieve the data about this virus."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

***

FBI Hoover Building
Friday, January 10
2:00 p.m.

It was five days after the alien attack and there was no sign that a virus had been release by the attacking ships. Cleanup was still underway at the crash sites on Wednesday when the U.S. military released a detailed report of the attack to the press. The Star Wars System had worked better than expected, destroying over half of the enemy ships.

The public was elated with the news, and celebrations had been going on since Wednesday evening. Agents Mulder, Scully, and the X-Files had become household names as more light was shed on their six-year battle to expose the conspiracy.

"Hey, Scully. Dateline called, they want to do a story on us," Mulder said, chuckling.

"Dateline, Sixty Minutes, Barbara Walters, Larry King . . . maybe we should flip a coin," Scully joked, enjoying their instant celebrity status. No longer were they considered the Spooky brigade in the basement -- their peers now looked upon them with respect.

"No. I vote for Donny & Marie," Mulder replied, grinning.

Scully grinned back. "Are you going to attend the reception at the White House?"

"Unfortunately yes, Skinner isn't giving me a choice. Otherwise, I'd be hanging out with the gunmen tomorrow night is stir-fry night . . . Frohike is going to be making Sichuan shrimp."

"Well, maybe we could go to the reception together," Scully suggested, casually.

"Dana Katherine Scully, are you asking me on a date?" Mulder asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Mulder, it's only a suggestion -- if you prefer to go alone, fine," she snipped with annoyance.

"I'm not going alone. I'm attending with Skinner, but you're welcome to join us."

"You're going with Skinner? My, my, Mulder, I would have never guessed."

Mulder tossed a crumpled up sheet of paper at her. "He wants to make sure I don't try to ditch," he replied annoyed, not knowing why her comment bothered him.

"Whatever. I think I'll drive myself. You know what they say, two's company but three's a crowd," she guffawed happily.

Mulder leveled her with a cold stare that quickly melted into mirthfulness. "I wouldn't laugh, Scully, at least I have a date," he replied smugly. He picked up the stack of file folders and put them into his briefcase then he headed for the door. "I'm ducking out early, with any luck the reporters won't be camped out in front of my apartment building, yet."

"Bye, Mulder, see you tomorrow night."

***

Mulder reread the document several times, he had always secretly hoped . . . and now he had concrete proof, that Alex Krycek had been working for the UN against the consortium. He smiled at the thought of his ex-partner being on the side of truth and justice all along. He still had questions that needed answers. However, those would come as soon he found Krycek.

He had always shut off the part of himself that was sexually attracted to other men, burying his desire deep inside. That was until Krycek became his partner and he could no longer ignore those feelings of desire, but before he could act on his feelings the man had betrayed him. He realized much later that he had started to fall in love with Krycek, which had enraged him even further. That he had been foolish enough to allow the other man to steal such an important part of him. Now his deepest wish had come true, Krycek wasn't the murderous traitor that he always thought him to be, but he still needed to find out about his father's death and Scully's abduction.

The mere thought of the other man made him ache with desire, he pictured those beautiful green eyes, thick lashes, high cheekbones, and upturned nose -- the man was a work of art. Mulder lowered his zipper and leaned back on the sofa he pulled his cock free. It had swelled to its impressive ten inches as he imagined Krycek kneeling before him. He remembered his sweet musky scent, the warmth coming off his body as he leaned in close. Mulder closed his eyes imagining what the other man's hand would feel like on him, stroking him, claiming him. The agent pumped harder, crying out as he came. Sagging back exhausted, sated. He rubbed the sticky substance off his hand and onto his T-shirt. He wondered what Scully would think if she knew that his favorite jerk-off fantasy included Alex Krycek.

Mulder glanced at the tuxedo draped over the back of the chair across from him; it was still wrapped in its plastic dry cleaner bag. He was going to wear it tomorrow night when he went to the reception at the White House with Skinner. He thought about his relationship with his boss as he tucked himself back into his pants. Mulder felt an attraction to him, but he refused to explore it any further, he wouldn't even allow himself to fantasize about the larger man. He was too afraid, Skinner was his boss and his friend, and he didn't ever want to chance losing that friendship.

Mulder stood and went over to his phone; he wanted more information on Krycek's role as a covert operative for the United Nations. "Langly, its Mulder. I need a favor from you."

"Sure, Mulder, what's up?"

"I need you to get me some information on an UN employee. He won't be in their normal database, his name is Alexei Krycek, employee number 7551013CU."

"You think Krycek is working for the UN?" Langly asked surprised.

"I don't think it . . . I know it. Oh, and Langly, do you think you can find out his current location, too?" he asked anxiously.

"Will do, Mulder, I'll get back to you with the information when I have it," Langly said, disconnecting the call.

Mulder went to take a shower, feeling completely contented; today was the best day he had had in years. He no longer feared the imminent alien attack. They had tried and failed -- the Earth's defenses proved too powerful. The threat from the virus never happened, and now he had just found out about Krycek's innocence. Things were definitely looking up.

***

White House
Saturday, January 11
9:20 p.m.

Skinner kept his eyes on Mulder's lanky form throughout the evening. He had been surprised by his agent's appearance when he picked him up at his apartment a few hours ago -- Mulder positively glowed with happiness. Skinner couldn't remember ever seeing him truly happy before, it made him even more beautiful. The A.D. noticed that he wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Mulder -- several very attractive women and even a few men also had him in their sites. He frowned when he saw another handsome man approach Mulder, but the agent quickly brushed him off.

Skinner wanted to tell Mulder how he felt about him, but he did not want to jeopardize their relationship by telling him that he was in love with him. Skinner was positive the agent was straight; he had seen the way Mulder flirted with the women at the Bureau, and he never showed the slightest interest, that he knew of in men. He would have to be content with admiring the other man from afar.

"Sir, can we cut out of here now?"

Mulder's presence at his side startled Skinner; he had lost track of the agent over the last couple of minutes. "Agent Mulder, it's still early, don't you want to stay and bask in the limelight a little longer?"

"No. I've had enough limelight to last me the rest of my life. I can't remember the last time that I was propositioned more in one evening. If you don't mind, sir, I really would like leave," Mulder said.

"If you really want to leave, okay," Skinner replied, slightly disappointed, he had enjoyed spending the evening in Mulder's company.

Mulder noticed the other man's disappointment. "If you'd rather stay, sir, I could take a cab home."

"No, I'll take you. Maybe we could stop for a quiet drink somewhere away from these vultures," the A.D. suggested, leading the way to the cloakroom. A quiet drink with Mulder sounded very appealing.

"Sure, I could go for beer." Mulder smiled.

"Good, then maybe you can explain why you're so happy tonight."

"What's not to be happy about? I no longer have to convince people that aliens exist or that there was a global conspiracy working with them to enslave the human race. In addition, both the aliens and the consortium lost," Mulder said, shrugging into his long overcoat. He kept the information about Krycek's innocence to himself; he didn't think that Skinner would understand why that news had him elated.

"But you still haven't found out about what happened to your sister," Skinner replied, holding open the car door for Mulder.

Mulder waited for Skinner to climb into the driver's seat. "Sir, it's only a matter of time, for now, I'm learning to appreciate the small victories."

"There was nothing small about your recent victories."

"Yeah, I just wish that smoking bastard hadn't disappeared. I really wanted to nail his sorry ass to the wall," Mulder replied, glancing thoughtfully out of the car window.

"Stand in line, Mulder," Skinner growled. "We'll track him down eventually."

"Yeah, right."

***

They were only at the bar for forty-five minutes when Mulder's cell phone chirped. "Mulder."

Skinner watched as all the color drained out of his companion's face. He straightened and leaned forward, wishing he were telepathic so he could listen into his agent's conversation. He had to settle for only hearing Mulder's strained replies.

"Okay, thanks, Frohike," Mulder disconnected the call after ten minutes, meeting Skinner's worried expression.

"That was a contact of mine, he's part of a watchdog group -- they have affiliates around the world. They monitor all government and military communications," Mulder struggled at how much information he should tell Skinner.

Skinner frowned at the clearly illegal activities of his agent's contacts. He'd let it go for now. "Go on, Agent Mulder."

Mulder took a shaky breath. "In the past twelve hours there have been unexplained deaths around the world. All the deaths have been females . . . they range in age from infants to elderly women. Sir, two villages in China have reported that the female population has been completely wiped out. The deaths have been reported on every continent. Thirty minutes ago, St. Mary's Hospital in Chicago reported that their female nurses, doctors, patients, and visitors had started dying . . . they were fine one minute and the next they started bleeding from every orifice." Mulder took a sip of beer to clear his throat, his hand visibly shook. "Sir, four female police officers who responded to the call . . . died within minutes upon their arrival. Their male partners weren't affected by whatever virulent they were exposed to."

"God." Skinner face had gone white -- he quickly pulled himself together. "Has the CDC been notified?"

"Yeah, Fro . . . my contact, picked up the call to the CDC. They're sending a biohazard team out to the site immediately. Sir, I would like to go . . . but under the circumstances I don't think it would be wise for Agent Scully to accompany me."

"I agree, I'll drop you off at your apartment so you can change and pack," Skinner stated anxiously, he rose quickly rushing toward the door. "Then . . . I'll meet you at the airport in an hour."

"You're going?" Mulder asked, running after Skinner.

"My . . . my Aunt Beverly works at St. Mary's Hospital," Skinner stated quietly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know." Mulder shivered. He felt a sickening tightness in his stomach as he glanced sadly over at his boss.

***

Mulder called Scully with the news about St. Mary's Hospital. He knew it would be impossible to convince her that it was far too dangerous for her to accompany them. Therefore, he chose to call her from O'Hare Airport in Chicago, after their flight had landed. "Scully, I'll call you when we find out more about the situation here." Mulder met Skinner's eyes as he ended the call.

"Do you think she'll have the common sense to stay put?" Skinner asked.

"No. But it will take her a while to catch a later flight, by then the situation should be under control."

Their rental car stopped at a roadblock a few blocks from the hospital. Mulder noticed the crowd of people waiting along with press photographers. Skinner flashed his badge at a police officer, then they were allowed through the barrier. The scene, once they reached the hospital, looked like a war zone. In the distance, Mulder could see bodies lying in the street and on the sidewalk. The whole area was cordoned off, they weren't allowed any closer than two hundred feet.

"Damn, its gotten outside of the hospital walls," Mulder swore.

Skinner parked next to the CDC's vans, making a note of the helicopter. Men dressed in casual clothes and orderly uniforms stood around waiting, looking at the hospital in stunned silence, several were openly crying.

"Who's in charge here?" Skinner asked, flashing his badge.

A man in a suit stepped forward immediately. "Sir, ASAC Doug Moyer."

"Moyer, what's the situation?" Skinner barked.

"Sir, the CDC has a team in the hospital. They're taking air, water, and tissue samples," Moyer informed the larger man. "We're waiting for the National Guard to arrive; they're going to secure the perimeter. We've been having a difficult time keeping the press and civilians away."

"What's being done about the hospital's patients?" Skinner questioned.

"The hospital's under quarantine, none of the surviving male patients, staff, and visitors are permitted to leave. The men you see over there are the hospital's third shift. We tried to send the women staff that showed up away, some left immediately, but the bodies you see in front of the hospital were those who refused to go, they wanted to wait for news. We didn't know until it was too late that whatever had killed the women in the hospital had spread outside," Moyer replied solemnly.

"Do we have a list of victims, yet?" Skinner asked anxiously, he had tried to call his aunt from his apartment as he changed, then again from the airport back in DC, he got her answering machine both times.

"The hospital administrator faxed out a list of the staff and the patients, we don't have the names of the female visitors." Moyer signaled a subordinate to bring over the list, which he handed to Skinner.

Skinner scanned it quickly, frowning sadly when he reached his aunt's name.

Mulder noticed the older man's stricken look. Taking the list from him, he noticed the name 'Beverly Skinner', he assumed it was Skinner's father's sister. "I'm sorry, sir, were you close?" he asked.

"Yes, she was my step-mother's sister. She sort of took me under her wing when my family emigrated here from Russia. She helped me learn English," Skinner smiled fondly, remembering.

Mulder was surprised that Skinner's family was Russian immigrants. "Excuse me, sir, but Skinner wasn't your father's surname?"

"No. It was Danko. My father wanted a clean break with Russia and his past, so he took his second wife's maiden name and changed my name, too. He wanted us to be a real Americans," Skinner sighed and looked back toward the hospital as five of the CDC personnel came out in their biohazard suits.

Moyer stepped next to him swearing under his breath. "Damn. Sir, there are only five of them . . . they had nine in their team, five men and four women." He couldn't tell from this distance if the five CDC personnel were all males; he prayed there was at least one woman among them.

Mulder shuddered, it scared the shit out of him that any contagion could leech through a biohazard suit. He was thankful that Scully was still back in DC.

"ASAC Moyer, don't jump to conclusions. The other four could still be collecting samples in the hospital," Skinner growled.

Skinner's cell phone chirped. "Skinner." The A.D. paused listening to the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Sir. I'm in Chicago with Agent Mulder. Yes, we're at St. Mary's Hospital." Skinner took out his pen and notepad and balanced the phone in the crook of his neck as he quickly started writing in the notepad. His hands shook as the list became longer, finally he stopped writing. "We'll return immediately, sir," he murmured in a weak voice.

Mulder stood waiting nervously. "Sir?"

"That was the Director," he said shakily. "Mulder, it's spreading. A restaurant in San Diego, a shopping mall in St. Louis, a factory in Tallahassee, and another hospital in Atlanta, and all the deaths were females." Skinner glanced at the CDC team -- they stayed by the hospital entrance. One removed his protective hood and radioed ASAC Moyer.

"Doctor Emmett Wells speaking, we're putting ourselves under quarantine. The virulent killed our four female staff members within minutes of entering the hospital, we can only assume that it has leeched through our suits as well and that we are now infected, too."

Skinner took the radio. "Doctor, this is Assistant Director Skinner of the FBI, did you collect the samples?"

"Yes, we're going to use the hospital's labs to analyze them," the man replied.

"How long will that take? There has been other outbreaks across the country," Skinner informed the man.

"If the contagion has spread we're in deep trouble . . . I've never seen anything more virulent. We don't even know what method to use to dispose of the bodies, yet." Doctor Wells spoke to the four men next to him, who all rushed back into the hospital. "We'll get the samples analyzed as quickly as possible, then send the results back to the CDC and the FBI labs."

"What about us, Doctor? Is it safe for us to leave here?" Skinner asked, staring sadly at the female bodies two hundred feet away.

"Yes, that female police officer is proof that it hasn't spread to where you're standing," the doctor replied, staring over toward one of the police cars.

Skinner noticed the female officer for the first time. "Moyer, what is she doing here?"

"Sir, she's with Chicago PD, several of the female officers that died in the hospital were friends of hers. She's refused to leave," ASAC Moyer informed him.

Skinner glared at him then went over to the female officer. "I'm A.D. Skinner with the FBI, I'm going to have to ask you to leave immediately for your own safety . . . Officer Harris," he said, reading her badge.

"Sir, I'm not going anywhere," she replied angrily, standing nose to nose with him. To Skinner surprise, she was the same size as he was.

"Officer, either you leave of your own accord or I'll have you forcibly removed from the area," Skinner growled, watching as she backed down.

"Okay, fine," she grumbled, getting behind the wheel of her patrol car and driving off. Once she was past the checkpoints, she smiled and morphed back into its original form.

Skinner watched the police officer leave, turning back to Mulder. "The Director wants us back in Washington immediately. The President is calling an emergency cabinet meeting and he wants you there."

"Sir, I can get back to DC on my own if you'd rather stay here," Mulder replied, thinking that the A.D. would want to make arrangements for his aunt's body.

"No. There's nothing for me to do here," Skinner stated as he followed Mulder back to their car.

"What about your aunt, sir?"

"CDC is not going to release any of the victims' bodies anytime soon, if ever. I'm needed back in DC, when word gets out we're going to have a major panic on our hands," Skinner answered brusquely.

That's an understatement, Mulder thought, as they headed back to the airport.

***

Hoover Building
Monday, January 13
9:20 a.m.

Scully came into the office carrying two cups of coffee and a folder tucked under her arm. "Mulder, I've been going over the results from the CDC last night," she said, setting one of the cups in front of him, he looked tiredly up at her from his desk. "It doesn't look good, besides the virus being prevalent in the air, water, and victims bodies, it is also in every cell of the surviving males at St. Mary's. It doesn't appear to be gestating, but we don't know if it's infectious either."

"What about the other areas of the country that were exposed? Is it the same strain of the virus?" Mulder leaned back in his chair gulping down the warm cup of coffee.

"They've sent the results back from the other sites, they're identical. Mulder, the virus has elements that are totally alien to this planet. I think it's the alien virus that the Grays intended to cleanse the earth with, and it appears that our assumption that the virus would target the infirm and the elderly was way off base." Scully leaned against his desk, chewing worriedly on her bottom lip. "What I don't understand is why? What would they gain by killing off all of the females? There would be no way to re-propagate the species, at best they'd only have useful slaves for fifty to sixty years."

"It's too early to guess what the aliens intended, but at least it sheds light on what the consortium has been up to for fifty years. A lot of their research was on ways to eliminate the need for females in the procreation process. They've done extensive research into cloning and they've successfully grown fetuses to maturity in growth cylinders."

"But, Mulder, the consortium used stolen female ova to achieve those results," Scully argued back, taking a seat behind her desk.

"That's probably why they've been stealing and storing the ova from women for decades, they knew what the virus would do to the female population," Mulder replied, a look of sadness crossed his features. "The government is going to be placing the country under martial law, they hope to stem the flow of victims until a cure can be found." The email notification on Mulder's computer dinged, glancing at the new message, he swore softly under his breath and opened the document attachment.

"Scully, look at this."

"What is it, Mulder?" She walked over and stood reading over his shoulder. It was a classified consortium document on the alien virus.

"Mulder, how do we know that this file is authentic?"

"At this point what would anyone have to gain by hiding the truth from us? We have to proceed as if the information is authentic or until we can prove that it isn't." Mulder pressed the print icon.

"Who sent the email?" Scully asked.

"I think it's from Krycek. The guys were able to track his last known location to St. Petersburg, and that's where the message originated."

"Krycek? Mulder, after everything that bastard has done how can you trust him?" Scully scoffed.

"Scully, I've discovered new evidence that he's been working undercover for the UN against the consortium. Langly pulled up additional documents that have verified it beyond a shadow of a doubt in my mind." Mulder turned in his chair and grabbed the laser prints from his printer.

"I'd like to see that evidence, Mulder," Scully replied, there was a hint of disdain in her voice.

"Here, knock your socks off," Mulder replied, handing her a manila folder. He rose and headed for the door. "I'm going to the copier room. I'll drop off a copy of this document to you before taking copies upstairs to Skinner and our team."

***

St. Petersburg
Tuesday, January 14
1:20 a.m.

Alex Krycek stood staring stoically out the window of his apartment into the nighttime sky. The alien virus was sweeping through St. Petersburg with a vengeance. The smell of death hung faintly in the frigid January air, they were lucky that it wasn't spring or summer or the smell would have been unbearable. He watched as another dump truck passed underneath his window. Due to the darkness, he was barely able to see the bodies that had been piled high in the back of the truck. The Russian government had mobilized their troops immediately upon the first deaths being reported. The troops worked around the clock going house to house to collect the dead for disposal -- the bodies were being taken out of the city to be incinerated.

Krycek sat back down behind his computer, wondering if Mulder had gotten his email. It would be 6:30 Monday evening in DC. He looked at the small wallet sized photo of the agent that he had taped to the bottom of his monitor. He hoped that Mulder would overlook his hatred of him and take the documents seriously.

Mulder. He smiled sadly. He should have left Russia when he had a chance and returned to the United States. Now it was impossible to leave; the United States government had declared martial law four hours ago and closed their borders.

They were fools if they thought they could prevent the spread of the virus, which was impossible. It was spreading fast -- contaminating the air, soil, water, and every living organism. Birds and even insects were infected, carrying the virus to different parts of the world -- soon everything on the planet would be contaminated.

***

Hoover Building
Monday, January 13
11:20 p.m.

Fox Mulder was exhausted, he hadn't had any sleep since Saturday, and at least he had stayed in bed until noon that day. He was spending hours pouring over the data that Krycek had sent about the virus and the personal letter that was attached warning about the mutations and the precautions that the survivors were going to need to undertake. Mutations? Damn, wasn't it enough that they were killing off all of females? Did they have to turn the rest of the population into monsters? At least it hadn't spread outside of the human species; all other life forms were unaffected.

Mulder tried again to contact Krycek through email, but his message was returned back address unknown. Yawning, he had a hard time focusing his eyes on the type on the monitor.

"Agent Mulder, grab your coat." Skinner's voice startled him.

"Sir, what are you still doing here?"

"Currently, making sure you get home okay. C'mon, I'll drive you." The larger man pulled Mulder's coat off the coat rack and carried it over to the desk.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm in the middle of something. When I'm done, I'll drive myself home," Mulder huffed.

"Agent Mulder, in your current condition you couldn't even walk down the hallway without falling asleep on your feet. Now get your ass out of that chair!" Skinner was quickly losing patience with his reticent agent.

"Sir, please, time is running out! Every second that passes another woman loses her life to the virus. I have to stay, please," the agent whined.

Skinner was only operating on a couple of hours of sleep himself, over the last two days, and wasn't about to tolerate his agent's defiance. He dropped the coat over Mulder's head. "Put it on, Mulder, you're wasting time. The sooner you get home and grab a few hours of sleep, the sooner you can be back behind your desk," he growled.

"Yes, sir." Mulder glared angrily at him then leveraged himself up and pulled his coat on. He would just come back after Skinner dropped him off.

On their way to Mulder's apartment, Skinner's car was pulled over by a National Guardsman, he advised Skinner to get a specially issued sticker for his back window that gave him permission to be out on the streets after dark. They passed several more military vehicles on their way to Mulder's apartment.

"Thanks for the lift, sir, I'll see you tomorrow," Mulder said, climbing out of the car, he frowned when Skinner got out and locked his door. "Sir, is there something you need?"

"I'm going to crash on your sofa, Mulder. That way, I can drop you off at the office in the morning. After I'm sure you had enough sleep," Skinner smirked. It felt great to be one step ahead of Fox Mulder, it didn't happen too often, but when it did -- boy did it feel good.

Mulder sighed. "Oh gee, sir, a slumber party? Maybe we should give Scully a call?" he replied sarcastically.

"I don't think so, Mulder, you're going to go right to bed," Skinner growled as they stepped off the elevator onto Mulder's floor.

"Are you going to tuck me in?" Mulder sassed back, unlocking his door.

"If that's what it takes," Skinner muttered under his breath, closing the door behind him.

"What was that, sir?"

"Mulder, I don't like this anymore than you do! If you weren't so pigheaded and just did as you were told . . . " Skinner shuddered, sinking shakily onto the sofa, the events of the last couple of days were finally catching up with him.

"Sir, are you okay?" Mulder asked, sitting next to him.

"I . . . I'm fine, just a bit exhausted."

Mulder suddenly sympathized, he remembered his boss had just lost his aunt to the virus. Skinner never even took time to grieve for her, and he had been working non-stop for two days, too. "Sir, I don't mind sleeping on the sofa if you want to take the bed."

"Sure, Mulder, thanks," Skinner replied, relieved that the man wasn't arguing with him still. He stood and looked around questioningly.

"It's through here, sir," Mulder said, opening the door to the bedroom.

Skinner stepped through the doorway, his eyebrows arched in surprise at the waterbed with a leopard skin spread, and the overhead mirrors. He looked at Mulder who stood in the doorway looking suddenly sheepish and shuffling his feet.

"It was a gift," Mulder said, shrugging his shoulders.

"A gift? From whom?" Skinner felt a pang of jealousy, he normally wouldn't ask such a personal question of his agent.

"I haven't figured that out yet," Mulder mused, looking thoughtfully at the bed.

Skinner shook his head, why didn't it surprise him? Only Mulder could turn something as simple as a gift into a mystery.

"Sir, I'm going to take a shower." Mulder turned to leave, then stopped, considering. "There's a new toothbrush in the bathroom linen cabinet if you want to brush your teeth and take a shower, too."

Skinner briefly thought that Mulder was propositioning him to share the shower with him, but quickly tossed that idea away as wishful thinking on his part. "Yeah, I'd like that, just let me know when you're done," Skinner replied. In preparation for his shower, he shrugged off his suit coat, draped it over the back of a chair, removed his tie, and placed it on top of his coat.

"Okay, I'll do that." Mulder glanced back once as he left the doorway, catching a pleasant eyeful of Skinner's undershirt clad torso as the larger man pulled off his linen dress shirt. His boss was really put together well, he sometimes forgot that under those bureaucratic suits was a very fine specimen of manhood -- large biceps, flat abs, a broad chest, a slim waist. Mulder daydreamed as he slipped his shoes off by the coffee table, and shrugged out of his own clothing before quickly heading into the bathroom clad only in his boxers.

"Down boy," he admonished his cock, which stood at attention against his belly. "We will *not* lust after our boss," he muttered, turning on the water. He tried to conjure up one of his favorite Krycek fantasies to jerk off to, but the young man kept turning into a surly, baldheaded, well-built, and compassionate Walter Skinner. "Fuck," he sighed. He did not want to go there, so he turned the water to cold.

Skinner removed his belt and the holstered gun that was clipped to it, setting them on the dresser. He sat on the chair to remove his shoes and socks. He thought about how quickly the virus was spreading. He was fearful for his sister and nieces' lives, he wanted to drop everything and go to Minnesota to see them, their safety was constantly on his mind. He was still lost in thought when Mulder knocked on the door.

"Sir, the bathroom is free," Mulder stated. Averting his eyes away from his boss's body, he backed out of the bedroom and headed over to prepare the sofa to sleep on.

Skinner didn't notice Mulder's nervous reaction; he was too busy checking out his agent's bare chest and his transparent, loose fitting pajama bottoms. When the younger man turned just right Skinner could tell he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. He felt his suit pants tightening. He could not allow Mulder to see him in a state of arousal. He edged cautiously toward the bedroom doorway; after making sure Mulder's back was turned toward the sofa, he quickly headed for the bathroom.

When he came back out after his shower, he noticed that Mulder was already soundly asleep. The light from the fish tank and opened bedroom doorway faintly lighted the room. Skinner stood at the foot of the sofa watching the younger man sleep. Mulder looked so peaceful and innocent in his sleep, nothing like the hardened FBI agent he'd come to respect and love. An unrequited love. Sighing, he started to head back toward the bedroom, but before he could make it, he heard Mulder murmur "Alex" in his sleep. His shoulders sagged as he felt the energy drain from his body, and he sadly climbed into bed.

*Alex?* The first name that came to mind was Krycek, but Mulder hated that man. Skinner reasoned that it must be a woman, there was an Alexis in accounting. That only made him feel a little less jealous. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to fall to sleep.

***

Mulder woke to the smell of bacon frying and the sun glaring through the living room window. He shot up on the sofa, he didn't even remember falling asleep last night. How could he have overslept? He never overslept and who was in his kitchen? His sleep-muddled brain took awhile to get into gear. Skinner. Last night came crashing back to him.

"Good morning," Skinner said, coming into the living room, he set a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of his agent.

"M'rning," Mulder mumbled, picking up the mug. He noticed that Skinner had showered, shaved, and dressed already this morning.

"Have you been up long?" he finally asked, between careful sips of the hot coffee.

"About an hour . . . I'm fixing us breakfast. Why don't you go and get dressed, I'll have it ready when you get done." Skinner had been pleasantly surprised that his agent actually had food in his refrigerator that wasn't past the expiration dates. He knew the long hours that Mulder had been working didn't leave him a lot of time for shopping.

Mulder set the coffee mug down; rising, he stretched then headed to his bedroom to get his clothes before heading into the bathroom. Closing the bathroom door, he shook his head with disbelief, his boss had made him breakfast -- things just kept getting stranger and stranger.

Skinner waited until after he heard the shower go off before pouring the scrambled eggs into the pan. He was just scooping them onto the plates when Mulder strolled into the kitchen. Skinner pulled out the plate of bacon he had warming in the oven, tossing three pieces onto each of their plates. He already had the toast and jam on the small dinette table.

"Thanks," Mulder murmured as the larger man placed the plate in front of him. He reached for a slice of buttered toast and the raspberry jam.

"You're welcome. I was rather surprised you had food in your refrigerator," Skinner replied, sitting down next to him.

"I went shopping on Saturday. I know everyone assumes that I survive on takeout, but I do know how to cook," Mulder complained.

"No. It's not that . . . I didn't mean to offend you. I was only surprised you found the time to go to the store, since you're always at the office or out of town on a case," Skinner replied softly.

"Yeah, there is that. I do end up tossing a lot of spoiled food down the garbage chute," he grinned sheepishly.

"Are you prepared for the meeting this afternoon with the Senate's crisis management committee?" Skinner asked, dunking the toast in his cup of coffee.

"Yeah, I only hope they listen to me. It might prevent a lot of deaths down the road," Mulder replied, sadly.

"You're sure the information you've received about the mutations are authentic? It seems a little far-fetched . . . I mean men turning into ghouls and seven-foot tall Neanderthals." Skinner didn't mean to scoff at the idea, but he was having a hard time accepting it.

Mulder gave him a hard look then turned his attention back to finishing his breakfast.

***

Hoover Building
Wednesday, January 15
3:20 p.m.

Dana Scully came rushing into the office, grabbing her briefcase. "Mulder, I'm going over to my mother's home in Baltimore . . . she's not answering any of my phone calls," she said anxiously.

"Scully, I'm sure she's okay . . . the virus hasn't reached this part of the country, yet," Mulder replied, trying to ease her mind.

"Mulder, you've been isolated down here for the past four hours. During that time, deaths have been reported in Baltimore, New York City, Pittsburgh, San Diego, and Seattle." Scully opened the door walking purposefully toward the parking garage.

"Scully, wait! I'm coming with you," Mulder shouted, grabbing his coat, he rushed out of the office after her.

"Mulder, you're needed here . . . I can handle this on my own," her voice broke, relaying her worst fears to her partner.

"No, Scully, we're friends. I want to be there for you, let me, please," Mulder said softly as they stopped next to Scully's car.

A look of appreciation crossed her pretty face as she unlocked the passenger door for him. "Thanks, Mulder," she murmured.

***

On the drive through the side streets of Margaret Scully's neighborhood, Mulder noticed the National Guardsmen had already started to collect the bodies. They passed several crashed vehicles with dead women behind the wheels. Mulder knew it didn't look good for Scully's mother. He wondered about his own mother, he had called her last night and she had sounded well. He made a promise to himself that he would go to see her tomorrow, regardless of his workload.

Scully pulled the car into her mom's driveway next to the large colonial home her parents had purchased when her father had made captain. It had been her family's home since she was 12 years old. They had no longer had to travel from base to base, it had provided the first real permanency in her life.

"Scully, why don't you stay here? I'll go and check on her, if she was infected . . . " Mulder couldn't bring himself to say that Scully would die, too. He didn't want to think about a life without her in it.

"No. If she's dead, I want to be with her. Mulder, it's only a matter of time. In fifty years, the consortium weren't able to find a vaccine against the virus. It's extremely unlikely that we'll find one in time, not at the rate the virus is spreading," she replied, climbing out of the car.

Mulder grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Scully, please," he begged, letting go when he saw the look of determination in her China blue eyes. He followed her reluctantly to the front door.

Scully used her key to unlock the door. The metallic stench of blood hit them immediately upon entering. Scully turned on the lights as they followed the scent to the kitchen. Mrs. Scully was lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position. Dark red crystallized blood surrounded her body. Scully knelt beside her and attempted to brush the hair off her mother's face only to have it crumple to dust at her touch. All pigment and moisture had leeched out of the body, leaving behind a sickly white husk.

"Oh my God, Mulder. Those inhuman bastards! How could any intelligent being do this to another?"

Mulder knelt down next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His usually stoic partner turned and buried her head into his shoulder breaking down in tears, her body quivering with grief. Several minutes passed before her crying subsided and she pushed away from him.

"Mulder, I want my mother to have a proper funeral. I don't want her disposed of like a piece of trash," she wept, referring to the mobilization of the military and National Guard troops who had been ordered to collect and burn the bodies of all the virus victims immediately.

"Sure, Scully, anything you want, but we're going to have to handle it ourselves," he said softly.

"I have a friend at the crematorium. If we contact him and Father O'Donnell my mother's priest, I'm sure they'd be willing to help," Scully replied.

"Okay, you go call them and I'll take care of your mother's body," Mulder murmured. Looking at the body next to his knees, he wondered what he could use to wrap it.

"There are blankets in the upstairs linen closet, you can wrap her in one of those," Scully replied, reading his mind from the expression on his face.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

When Mulder came back downstairs, he listened to Scully arguing on the phone. "Michael, please," she begged, her voice shaking. "Okay, thanks, I really appreciate it."

"What was wrong?" Mulder asked, holding the folded blanket against his chest.

"The military has commandeered all of the city's crematoriums and blast furnaces to dispose of the bodies. Michael is going to see if he can sneak us in. I better get a hold of Father O'Donnell and my brothers." She picked the phone up again and started dialing as Mulder headed back into the kitchen.

Mulder spread the blanket out on the floor, sliding his arms under Mrs. Scully's body, he lifted her, placing her in the center of the blanket. He was amazed and sickened at how light the body was; it couldn't have weighed more than thirty pounds. Mulder looked at the piles of crystallized fluids that had leached out of the body at the time of death. That explained why the body was so light -- there wasn't an ounce of fluid or moisture left in it. Mulder contemplated what he should do. He decided that it was a part of her and grabbed a broom and a dustpan and started sweeping the crystals up. He looked frantically around for a container until his eyes rested on the glass floor canister, and he emptied the floor into the trash.

Scully finally came back into the room, staring silently down at her mother's body. "Tara's dead," she murmured quietly.

"Bill's wife?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." Mulder handed the full canister to her. He then went to Mrs. Scully's body and gently folded the blanket over it. He started to lift it, then stopped suddenly, and looked up at Scully.

"You're still alive. We've been here for over a half-hour, Scully, and the virus hasn't affected you. All reports have indicated that the women died within minutes of being exposed," Mulder rambled excitedly. If his partner were immune to the virus, she might be the key to a possible cure.

Scully looked at him stunned. "God, Mulder, do you think that I might have an immunity to the virus? Maybe it was something those bastards did to me during my abduction?"

"I don't know Scully, but you're still alive. After we put your mother to rest we'll have the CDC run some tests on you."

***

CDC
Friday, January 17
2:20 p.m.

Mulder pounded his fist angrily against the wall. "Damn it, her body is infected with the virus and you can't figure out why it's not killing her? There must be something that makes Scully and the other six women survivors different from the women that died?"

"Agent Mulder, we're working on it. There was an alien substance found in their blood work, but it's not the only factor keeping them alive . . . we haven't isolated what that is, yet. We need to run more tests," Doctor Emmett Wells replied, annoyed.

"Doctor, we're running out of time!" Mulder growled.

"Don't you think I know that! I have a wife and daughter, I don't want to lose them! Agent Mulder, I really wish you could go back to the FBI and stay out of our way, but unfortunately we're stuck with you!" The man angrily pushed past Mulder, leaving him standing with his mouth agape.

"Close it, Mulder, before something flies in," Scully said as she walked tiredly into the room. She held her arm stiffly against her chest; it ached from all of the blood they had taken from it over the last two days.

"How are you doing?"

"Slightly better than you . . . it would appear," Scully replied, taking in her partner's haggard appearance. "Are you trying for another Skinner slumber party?" she quipped. She still couldn't believe that their boss had gone to that length to force Mulder into getting some much-needed rest.

"Very funny. Kimberly said that Skinner has left to attend to a personal crisis out of state," Mulder replied.

Scully frowned. "The government isn't allowing private citizens to travel even to attend to dead relatives, it doesn't seem fair for him to be allowed that privilege."

"Scully, Skinner's been working nearly non-stop since Saturday. I told you about his aunt in Chicago, she was one of the first victims, and he didn't even take time to grieve for her. If anyone deserves to be allowed to attend to some personal matter, he does. Besides, we don't know that he's attending a relative's death, I got the impression that his aunt was his only living relative, he never mentioned anyone else," Mulder replied sadly.

"What about you, Mulder? You're not even allowed to leave the area to visit your mother," she argued. She'd been mad ever since the new travel bans were announced yesterday, they had prevented her brothers from coming. Although, deep down, she knew it was the only thing the government could do to slow the spread of the virus. At least the bans were after her mother's death two days ago; she would never have been able to obey them if they had been in affect then.

"Scully, you know I can't see my mother even if I were permitted to leave here; my last blood work showed that I'm contagious. If I went to see her now it would kill her. Damnit, I can't figure out how I became contagious so soon. Doctor Wells says the virus gestates for at least five days in an infected male's body before he shows signs of being contagious. I only was exposed to your mother's body two days ago. Unless it happened in Chicago?"

The CDC had placed Mulder into temporary quarantine. He'd been trying to get permission to leave because martial law had banned all women in public service positions from going to work, and had discouraged others from even leaving their homes, so there wasn't a chance of him running into any women. He knew that he would have to stay away from his apartment and the FBI, but he figured that he could hangout with the gunmen -- anywhere was better than being confined in here.

"Mulder, they estimate that an eighth of the male population will be contagious by next week," Scully sighed. "It will be impossible for the government to quarantine that many men."

"God, I just want to leave here! Doctor Wells and I are starting to get on each other nerves. I wish I could get permission to at least go to the gunmen's headquarters . . . I'd have access to their computers."

"How are the guys doing?"

"Fine, they've started installing bars over their windows and flood lights outside. They're taking Krycek's warnings about mutations very seriously."

"They would."

"Hey, the government is, too. They're mandating the installation of window bars and flood lights on all apartment complexes and buildings," Mulder informed her, heading for the door. "Well, I'm going to see if they'll let me use the computer in the lab. Langly tracked down a couple more documents on the virus, he's suppose to email them to me, do you want to come?"

"I can't. I'm scheduled for more tests," Scully sighed.

"Do you want me to hang around?"

"No, Mulder. There's no point. Go, and say hello to the guys for me."

***

Walnut Grove, Minnesota
Saturday, January 18
11:20 a.m.

Walter Skinner stood next to his brother-in-law, Nathan Edwards, on the farm that his sister and Edwards owned. He sadly gazed down at the four wooden crosses that they had made last night to mark the graves of his sister and nieces.

"Nathan, you're welcome to come back to D.C. with me," Skinner offered, not liking the idea of his brother-in-law being out here alone after he left.

"Thanks, Walter, but I'm going to stay here. This farm has been in my family for over a hundred years, it doesn't seem right to leave it or Helen and the girls." Edwards nodded toward the graves. "Someone needs to maintain their graves."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Walter, I'm not going to kill myself. I'm a Christian, suicide is a sin against God."

"You still believe?"

"My faith is all that I have left. C'mon, let's go back to the house, you should be leaving if you want to make your flight."

"I won't miss it . . . I'm the only passenger." Skinner had received a message by way of Kimberly from Mulder about the possibility that he might be contagious. He was going to assume that his agent was right. He had arranged for a private plane to take him back to D.C.; from there he was going straight to the CDC to be tested.

***

Hoover Building
Thursday, January 23
11:20 a.m.

Kimberly climbed shakily into the minivan next to her boyfriend Tony. She had just witnessed the gruesome deaths of many of her friends and co-workers. Only a few of the women that worked for the FBI elected not to come into work, a larger number of women had braved the virus threat and continued to work. She had no idea why she hadn't died with them, but she knew that her survival would put her freedom in jeopardy. She had seen the directive sent to Skinner ordering him to locate and send all females that survive the virus to The Northridge Facility in Colorado for testing.

Kimberly was not about to leave Tony behind while she was locked up and treated like a lab rat. She hid out in the basement until she received the call from Tony that he was in the parking garage waiting for her. Sneaking out had proven to be ridiculously easy, all the agents were upstairs in shock at the lost of their female co-workers and the new knowledge that they were now infected.

"Kim, are you really okay? You're not feeling sick or anything?" Tony asked nervously.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just take me home, Tony," she murmured, sliding down in the car seat so she wouldn't be seen by anyone. It wasn't until she was safely at home, and securely locked behind her own doors that she broke down in tears at the loss of her friends.

***

CDC
Thursday, January 23
noon

Skinner sadly hung up the telephone and looked over at Mulder, he had been quarantined here since Saturday evening with the younger man. The room they were in had cots set up for twenty men. The place was starting to get overcrowded, forty more men had been quarantined there on Sunday. An additional sixty were added the next day.

"That was the Director, the FBI has been exposed to the virus, we've lost all of our female staff and agents. The Director is going to try to get us released from here since it is pointless to continue with the quarantine; there is no way the government could quarantine the number of men now contagious."

Dana Scully entered the room in a huff and interrupted him. "Sir, you have to do something! They want to transfer the women and me to the Northridge facility. You can't allow them to lock us away like common criminals!"

"Agent Scully, there is nothing I can do . . . my hands are tied. That directive came directly from the Administration and Congress. They are determined to find a cure for this virus and you and the other women hold the only hope. I've been directed to assign a team of agents to locate all female survivors."

"There is no reason to lock us up! We would submit willingly to tests without being confined to some top-secret military installation! Please, sir, you have to do something," Scully pleaded.

"There is nothing that I can do for you or the other women. If there was, don't you think I'd try?" Skinner growled, annoyed.

"Frankly, sir, no, I don't! If I were Mulder I think you'd do everything in your power to get him released," she snapped.

"Scully, that's not fair or true," Mulder replied softly. He was still reeling from the news of the deaths at the FBI, and didn't have the energy to get in the middle of a confrontation between his boss and partner.

"Mulder it is true, Skinner is always looking out for you and covering your ass after every crazy situation you've gotten yourself into! You wouldn't still be in the FBI if it weren't for him cleaning up after each of your escapades!" she shouted angrily. All she wanted was a little of the same support that their boss had always given her partner.

Mulder face turned ashen, and he turned away from her. "Scully, after everything we've been through, is that what you think of me? That I'm crazy? That I wouldn't have been able to keep my job without Skinner?"

"Mulder," she sighed, realizing she had gone too far, but was not willing to take back what she had said.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make," Mulder said, quickly leaving the room.

Skinner glared at her. "Scully, yes, it's true that Mulder sometimes has gotten himself into situations where he needed my help, and I will never apologize for providing that help. He needed someone who believed in him, and you were never able to offer him that type of belief. Even after he'd been proven right again and again, you still couldn't believe. Scully, he's not crazy, he never was. And, I wasn't the only one at the bureau who was protecting him," he stated softly, turning, he headed down the hallway in the direction Mulder had taken.

Scully stood thinking, sighing, she knew she'd have to apologize to Mulder. It hadn't been fair to take her anger out on him.

***

Chilmark
Monday, February 13
11:20 a.m.

Skinner stood next to Mulder who was gazing sadly down at his mother's body -- she had passed away in her sleep. Her death appeared to from natural causes, not from the virus that had swept through the female population in the past month. The disposal crews could no longer keep up with disposing of the dead bodies. It would be months before all the bodies could be located incinerated. The crews had shifted their focus to the living, going door to door searching for orphaned boys. Many of the dead had been single mothers.

Churches and the government had set up countless orphanages throughout the nation to house and feed the children, but the lack of suitable adults had left most of the facilities understaffed and under- supervised. The government was making nationwide appeals for volunteers to help at the orphanages.

"My mother is going to be buried next to my father. I've already made arrangements with the funeral home, they're sending a hearse over to collect her body," Mulder replied.

Skinner was surprised to hear that. Nowadays it was impossible to get immediate service from a funeral home without a lot of money. He wondered how Mulder could afford it, but kept his questions to himself.

"Would you like me to make us something to eat while we wait?"

"Sir, if you're hungry you go ahead and make yourself something. I couldn't eat anything right now." Mulder smiled weakly.

"Okay, Mulder." Skinner squeezed his shoulder then left the bedroom.

Mulder pulled over a chair and sat next to the bed, staring into his mother's peaceful face. "Mom, I'm sorry. I wanted so much to find Samantha for you . . . it hurts that I've failed you. I only hope that she is there with you now," he murmured softly, tears running gently down his cheeks.

He wished Scully were here so he could talk to her. She would understand how he was feeling, he doubted that Skinner would. Damn the government for taking her away from him, he had tried talking to Senator Matheson into get her released. However, the Senator refused to show any preferential treatment toward her over the other women. There were now twelve hundred of them at Northridge.

***

Cont'd in Chapter 2