The Eyes of Love By FatCat fatcat33047@yahoo.com Website: Please visit the wonderful home Donnilee has created to house my stories at http://donnilee.tripod.com. Just follow my name to find my stories. While you are there, take a peek at Donnilee's great stories and those of the other authors that she has at her site. Thank you Donni! Rating: NC17 Category: MSR, Post Colonization Classification: V, RST Spoilers: Spoilers? We don't need no stinking Spoilers! Archive: As you wish, but please keep my name attached and let me know where to visit. Summary: Post-Colonization Earth and the best laid plans of mice and men go awry. Disclaimer: They aren't mine nor anyone's but CC, Fox, 1013, DD and GA own the characterizations. These works are used without permission-no infringement intended. The quote from the book used is from an actual book sent to me by my friend, Frohike51. It's a highly amusing book entitled, Bloodsucking Fiends and was written by Christopher Moore. I have used the opening lines without permission. Once again, no infringement of copy write intended. Author's Notes: This is a story that was inspired by an old black and white movie I have loved since I was a child entitled, The Enchanted Cottage. Feedback always appreciated. Thanks to Donnilee for the beta and putting up with my ... habits! XXXXX Walter Skinner stared out the portal as the ground melted away under the wing of the ship while it floated straight up. The walls of the prison camp were quickly left behind as the aircraft achieved its cruising height and shot southwards. There was no feeling of forward movement or weightlessness. He knew that within moments, he would be shuttled off the craft and into the presence of the most powerful human on the face of the earth, thousands of miles from his point of origin. The Supreme Commander had summoned him. Skinner let his lip curl as he thought about the man known prior to colonization as Cancer Man, C.G.B. Spender, and his personal favorite, the Black-Lunged Bastard. The new, official title was a joke. The aliens were in charge. They had been for over two years. Spender was just the head puppet used to rule the remaining few million or so humans left on earth. Skinner knew that Spender was aware of the names his underlings called him behind his back; Fire-Breathing Dragon, Betrayer, Judas. He never made any overt attempt to stop the derogative name- calling. He just made sure that those suspected of or caught being disrespectful, simply disappeared. Skinner stood up as soon as the craft touched down. He didn't wait to be prodded to his feet by the huge alien being that Mulder had always called the Bounty Hunter. He'd had a run-in or two with his kind during the original resistance and had always come out on the short end of the stick. Today, he needed to remain sharp and focused. Today might be the day they let him die. XXXXX The complex predated the onset of the alien invasion so all the comforts of the twenty-first century were prevalent. While the temperature outside was over one hundred ten degrees, the interior of the building was a cool sixty-eight degrees at all times. 'By decree of the Supreme Commander,' Skinner sneered internally. 'He probably has to have it that cool to keep his life support equipment on line.' He passively followed his guard through the halls. He kept his head down but committed every twist and turn of the path to his memory in case the information might be useful to the resistance. His actions were closely observed by those they passed. Though he had never agreed to work for the alien cause, he had become known in the hierarchy of the Consortium. His natural born leadership abilities had thrust him into a position of unofficial command while in the containment camp. Some of the men and women he passed watched to make sure he was no threat to their position. Some watched to see if he was a player; a man to be courted for the future power he might hold. Power had become the only commodity that meant anything on earth. At last they reached a dead end. Two massive ebony wood doors were guarded by two more of the huge aliens. They barred the way until some silent communication passed among them. One of the aliens pushed the two doors open while the other stood his post. Skinner followed his guide in and was surprised when the second guard followed them in as well. This was a break from the usual pattern. 'Yes, this could be a good thing,' Skinner thought. Though the ventilation system was a marvel of modern mechanical engineering, the room stunk with the odor of stale cigarettes smoke and rotting flesh. Skinner smiled to himself, secretly glorying in the satisfaction of knowing that while Spender was the top human on earth, his masters had not chosen to heal him, only to prolong his life. There was movement in the corner of the room and a voice Skinner knew he would never forget said, "Ah, Walter Skinner. Have a seat." Skinner raised his eyebrow but followed the order that had been given. No matter how courteously it was spoken, instant obedience to the word of the Supreme Commander was demanded by the guards behind him. He sat down in one of the leather chairs situated in front of the massive glass desk as Spenders anti-gravity cart floated into place and settled down. He ignored Skinner for many long minutes, reinforcing his own feelings of superiority before acknowledging him again. Skinner sat at attention, face front, eyes slightly lowered. He had learned long ago the folly of any other position. He let his mind wander for a few moments while Spender gloried in his supremacy. He always found it vaguely amusing to note the various pieces of alien technology employed ever since the arrival of the invaders. The coming of the aliens brought space crafts, anti-gravity devices, and nuclear fusion from the realm of science fiction and made them common place, accepted. The alien physiology was even more astounding than their technology. Their ability to heal the human body with only a touch was one of their most amazing physical abilities. This capability had proven to be a mixed blessing. They had frequently shown that they could harm the human physiology as well as heal it. Death had become the exception rather than the rule after the original attack. There was no escape for the unfortunate people left on earth. No escape unless it was granted by their conquerors. Skinner knew this from first hand experience. He had tried to kill himself on several occasions. He had woken up each and every time in the most incredible pain he had ever experienced as he was once again brought out of stasis to consciousness. The scars that marked his body were reminders from his keepers that his life was no longer his own. He had almost given up hope of release until this summons. He darted a look at Spender but could see no clue as to his purpose. He decided silence was the better part of valor at this point. Nearly a half an hour passed before Spender cleared his throat and spoke. "I'm sure you want to know why I've asked you here, Walter." Skinner raised his eyes to acknowledge his attention but remained silent. "Not curious, Walter?" Spender hissed as he lit yet another cigarette. Spender raised his right hand and the guard on the right side behind Skinner activated the control for the collar on Skinner's throat and a jolt of pain shot through his body. "Once again, Walter, are you curious?" Spender asked conversationally. "Yes," Skinner gasped. "Yes, I'm curious." "Ah, that's better." He drew in deeply on his cigarette before speaking again. His words were accompanied by a cloud of smoke. They reminded Skinner of the last glimpse of Washington, D.C. that he'd had from the cockpit of the rebel fighter plane last year. A cloud of smoke had been all that had remained of the once great capital. "I've decided that I need someone I can depend on to regulate the camps established for the young people that are left. I've thought about my options and I've decided that you would be the only person capable of filling the position. After all, you were an excellent administrator in your day, weren't you Walter?" Skinner didn't know if his question was rhetorical or demanded an answer so he grunted, noncommittally. Spender raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You are capable of learning, I see." He considered the man in front of him for a moment before addressing the two guards. "Leave us." The guard who had transported him from the containment camp hesitated but the other one turned and left immediately. Finally the first guard stepped forward and placed the controller for Skinner's collar on the desk in front of Spender and left without a word. Spender picked up the controller and placed it beside the ashtray at his right hand. He stared at Skinner as if expecting him to speak. "Excuse me," Skinner began politely. He had to grit his teeth to get the next words out, but knew that they were necessary. "Excuse me, Supreme Commander, but wouldn't a social worker, doctor or psychologist, even an educator be a better choice for this position?" "Are you questioning my choice, Mr. Skinner?" Spender hissed as he reached towards the controller. "No, Sir," Skinner said immediately. "Good, good," Spender said as he nodded his head. He sat and smoked for a few minutes before he said, "I'm not interested in bleeding heart liberal bullshit, Walter. I want these young people contained, trained, and undamaged. I need someone who can head an organization that will complete this goal without pandering to their own perversity or allowing their underlings access to use them. I need these individuals healthy and willing and apolitical. "This is to be an elite corps of young men and women who will be the future of humanity on earth. They will need to know how to fight as well as how to survive in the world that we will be left with. We will have no need for poetry or art or religion. We will need trained survivors. We need men and women who can and will be able to resettle and repopulate this earth. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Walter. Our conquerors will not be here for long. Even as we speak they are raping the earth of the elements that they lack on their home world. When those elements are gone, they will leave." He sat back to watch Skinner's reaction. The room was quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the breathing of the two men and the faint hissing of the tobacco as it was consumed by fire. Skinner sat stunned, unable to believe what he had just been told. Finally he spoke. "Do you mean to tell me all this has been done because they needed supplies? Over six billion men, women, and children have been needlessly slaughtered in order for them to rape our planet?" "Yes," he said. Skinner sat there in disbelief. "We're a fucking Seven-Eleven for these bastards?" he bellowed. "You knew this all along and you let them in? You and your cronies allowed them to take over our planet, knowing they were not here to colonize but to plunder?" His volume increased as he spoke, his anger flooding him with the desire to kill the man sitting in front of him. Spender picked up the controller as Skinner leaned forward in his chair. "Let's not make this any harder than it has to be, Walter." He watched as Skinner reined in his emotions enough to sit back against the seat of the chair. "I ... we were lied to as well as you at first. We were told they wanted to live here, needed our aid to make a peaceful co-existence a possibility. "Towards the end, we realized that we had been played for fools. The burning of all the main conspirators at El Rico Air Force Base here in the United States as well as other facilities around the world proved what fools we all were," Spender said sadly. Skinner watched him, too overcome by despair and hatred to speak. "This handful of young men and women are our last hope. They need to be trained to survive. When the aliens leave they will take all their technology with them and this earth will be thrust into a new dark age without our natural resources." "Why me?" Skinner said weakly, sickened by Spender's revelations. "You are a leader. You know what has to be done to survive the coming days. You've seen combat and have killed to survive, yet you have maintained your humanity. You are perfect for the job. You will be given only the best of the best as your staff. You will be the hope of the new age of man." Skinner studied Spender for a while, considering his proposition. "What do I get out of this?" Spender spewed forth a laugh of pure evil. "Why, Walter. You get to go down in history as the leader of the new age. Isn't that enough?" He laughed maniacally and wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes. "While I will be vilified as the most heinous criminal known by mankind since Hitler, you will be its savior. Isn't that quite enough?" Once again silence settled over the room as Walter Skinner contemplated the offer. "No." "What?" "I said, no. You were always the one who craved fame. Not me." Spender slid his hand over to the controller and gave the button that controlled Skinner's collars a stroke. Blinding pain shot through Walter Skinner and left him a quivering mass of humanity. "You might want to reconsider your answer, Mr. Skinner," he said blandly. "There are those who survived that are not as altruistic as I. Some who would be delighted to do nothing more than spend the rest of their days on this earth torturing you." "So you think that the lack of pain is enough motivation for me to clean up your mess?" Skinner gasped. "What else could you possibly want?" The two men faced off across the huge desk for several minutes. Walter Skinner sat up straight in his chair. He stared at the old man who held the future of the world in his hands and said one word. "Scully." Spender smiled evilly. "Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I thought you were above the needs of the flesh, Walter," he smirked. Skinner glared at him and said, "Rumors in the camps say that you have found Dana Scully and that you are torturing her." "My dear Walter, that is a patently untrue," Spender replied immediately. "What is untrue? That you have her or that you are torturing her?" Skinner dared to ask. Spender studied him for a few moments before answering. "I have Agent Scully in my custody, but I have not raised a finger against her. She's in stasis. She was found in the basement of one of the rebel strongholds after a vicious firefight. She was near death but the team that found her knew who she was immediately by the signal from her chip. She was stabilized and brought here. She is ... changed, but her injuries were incurred before we found her." "Why didn't you have her healed?" Skinner asked. "Dana Scully is of more value to me as she is. As long as rumors such as those you heard are circulating, she is an excellent piece of bait to use to trap Fox Mulder." "He's alive?" Skinner leaned forward, hope stirring in his heart for the first time in months. "He has not been counted amongst the dead. We both know what a resourceful man Fox Mulder is, Walter. Until his body is brought to me, I will not consider him dead." Spender sat back and lit another cigarette. He contemplated Skinner for a few moments before asking, "Why do you want her? Do you think that she will ever love you as she does Mulder? Do you dream of her Walter? Her luscious red lips, her sparkling blue eyes looking at you with love and desire? A woman of Dana Scully's intelligence would make a fine consort for the new leader of the world." "My reasons are my own," Skinner said abruptly. "I think not," Spender hissed. He hit the button on the controller again. Skinner's contortions were so violent this time that he threw himself out of the chair onto the floor, eventually passing out. When he regained consciousness again he realized that he was on an anti-gravity cart that was being pushed by his guard. The huge alien moved the cart with one hand and held the controller to his collar in the other. They were following Spender as he floated down a dark hallway. Skinner tried to move but found his limbs unresponsive. He had been given massive doses of the collar before and knew that this was a short-term residual effect of the neural inhibitors. They stopped in front of a large window. Skinner knew that the glass was probably a one-way mirror, set up to spy on the underlings at work in the room beyond. Spender beckoned and his guard lowered his cart to the ground. He was yanked to his feet and thrust towards the mirror. Spender looked at him and said, "Is this what you want, Walter? Dana Scully? You can see for yourself that she is not being harmed in any manner by me or anyone that works for me." Walter Skinner glared at the old man, hatred burning in his heart. Not for the first time since the whole world went to hell, he wished he had just taken out his service weapon and killed this bastard right there in his office at the J. Edgar Hoover building, regardless of the consequences he would have had to face. He fought it but he couldn't keep his eyes off the tableau behind the window. Several lab assistants were working around the stasis chambers that lined the center of the room. In the chamber directly in front of him he could see a splash of red hair but nothing more. "How do I know that's Scully? That could be any woman in there," Skinner said with a snarl. Spender turned to the guard and nodded. No words were spoken but two of the lab techs moved toward the stasis chamber and moved it parallel to the window, turning it so that the top half made out of clear aluminum was displayed. Skinner gasped. He stood frozen as he stared into the chamber. It was Dana Scully, but not. She had obviously been in the thick of the war for some time before her body was retrieved. The scars on her face, the burns on her arms and hands were a testament to the fight she had put up before her capture. The last remnants of her beautiful red hair were scattered across the pillow where her bald head lay. Tears flowed down Skinner's face unheeded. The last time he had seen Scully was the day she and Mulder had barged into his office and tried to warn him that the invasion had begun. He hadn't believed them. He'd actually ordered them from his office and had them escorted from the building. He had lived with that memory for almost two years now. It was just one of many betrayals that he held close to his heart. His survival had not been fueled by a desire to live but rather by a desire to repent for his sins of disbelief and betrayal. If only he had joined them that day. What would have happened if he had listened to their story, believed, and tried to get the Director to listen to them? How many billions of lives could have been spared? Rage flowed through his veins and Skinner launched himself at his guard, ripping the controller out of his hand. He tossed it as far away as he could and turned towards Spender. "I'm going to kill you, you bastard, if it's the last thing I do." He jumped up and wrapped his hands around Spender's throat, choking the life from his wasted body even as his guard began to beat him with his huge fists. He could feel the pain of each blow but for once the pleasure of squeezing the life out of Spender made it seem inconsequential. He heard the escape klaxon sound, but still held on. He looked deeply into Spender's eyes. Just before his collar was activated and he once again lost consciousness, he thought he saw gratitude in the eyes of his nemesis. XXXXX Dana Scully groaned as she shifted onto her side. The pleasant haze of the good stuff that had kept her pain at bay until now gradually began to fade. She lifted her hand to rub against the pain in her throbbing head and groaned. The pain shifted to her hand as the tight skin from half-healed burns pulled and ached upon contact. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the nausea that the pain invoked. She swallowed several times before loosing the battle with her warring stomach. Hot bile rushed up from her stomach and spewed forth. "Ah, Ms. Scully, a little warning next time," said an unfamiliar voice. She pried open one eye, unable to force her body to do more. She saw the unfocused outline of a man standing by her bedside, wiping bile from his lab coat. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Water." "Not yet, Ms. Scully. You need to be able to sit up before I can give you water. We don't want you aspirating any liquids, now do we?" Scully took a deep breath and forced both her eyes open. The light behind the man made it impossible to identify him from this angle. She rolled to her back and tried to push herself up in the bed enough to sit up, but the pain in her hands flared and once again she lost consciousness. It was dark outside when she woke again. This time the nausea was gone, the pain was under control, and the need to use the bathroom was overwhelming. There was a call-button wrapped around the raised railing of her bed. She struggled to reach it and push the button without passing out again. She closed her eyes to wait for her call to be answered. When she woke the next time, it was near dawn. A man entered the dimly lit interior of her room, Palm Pilot in hand. He moved swiftly through the readouts of the machinery connected to her. He walked around the side of the bed to check her water pitcher. "Why didn't you answer my call last night?" Scully croaked. "Ms. Scully! You scared me. Good to see you awake," he said, ignoring her question. "I had to use the bathroom last night. Why didn't you answer my call?" "Ms. Scully, you are hooked up to a catheter. There was no danger of your having an accident." "Who are you?" Scully asked as she struggled to place a name with the vaguely familiar face. "My name is Kurt Crawford," he said. "You're a clone," she stated flatly. "Yes, I am. Well, I was. I am the last of the Kurt Crawford clones so now I like to think of myself as THE Kurt Crawford. Please call me Kurt." He smiled engagingly before lowering the side rail of her bed. "We need to get you upright so that I can straighten your sheets and give you a sponge bath." Scully watched the clone as he puttered around her bed, gathering supplies. She wanted to tell him that she could bathe herself, but with the bandages on her hands, and the weakness she felt, she knew she was incapable of anything requiring that much effort. "Couldn't a female nurse give me my bath?" she asked. "Nurse? You think I'm a nurse?" Kurt smiled and shook his head. "I'm not a nurse, Ms. Scully." "Are you my doctor?" she asked. "Aren't I in a hospital?" "No. I'm more your," he hesitated. "I guess you could say I'm your host, your doctor, and your companion. Yes, that's it. I'm your companion." Scully looked at him in fear. "Where are we? Why am I here? What's going on?" Each of the sentences she spoke was slightly more demanding. She was aware for the first time just how vulnerable she was. "Please, Ms. Scully, calm down. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help." The inscrutable look on the clone's face made her shrink from his touch. "Ah, I see we have to do this the hard way," he said. He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a needle with a strange blue fluid in it. "No! No, please!" Scully tried to scoot away from him as he reached over to her IV port and plunged the fluid into her. "Don't drug me, please!" "Rest now, Ms. Scully. By the time you wake up, you'll be feeling much better." Scully fought the overwhelming feeling of spinning and flying until she couldn't fight anymore. She said one word before succumbing to pull of the narcotic. "Mulder." XXXXX Dana Scully woke to the smell of coffee, real, brewed coffee. She stretched as she opened her eyes, smiling at the familiar scent. She looked around and realized that she didn't know where she was. The room was like any hospital room she had occupied in the past. There was the hospital bed of course, a cabinet on the wall for her clothes, and a chair that looked uncomfortable. She moved her arms and legs, trying to ascertain the extent of her injuries. She had no aches or pains to give her a clue as to the reason for her current hospitalization. She glanced around the room, looking for some clue as to which hospital she was in. As her eyes slid past the window she did a double take. Outside her window was a panoramic view of the ocean. She had never been in a hospital on the edge of the ocean before, especially not the Pacific Ocean, unless her guess was incorrect. A tall, slender, redheaded man walked through her door, carrying a breakfast tray with the cup of coffee that she had smelled. "Ah, good. You are awake. I thought I heard you stirring on the monitor so I took the liberty of getting a breakfast tray ready for you." "You're Kurt Crawford, right?" Scully asked as faint memories began to stir in her mind. "Yes, very good, Ms. Scully!" he said as he beamed a smile at her. He placed the tray on the mobile table near the foot of her bed, and then pushed it closer to her. "Here, let me help you," he said. He moved to help her sit up further in the bed and then pushed the controller on the bed to raise her head to a comfortable level. "All set?" he asked as he uncovered the dishes on her tray. Scully nodded. She was suddenly ravenous. She reached for the coffee and noticed that the burns on her hands had not healed completely and the scars that were forming were becoming more evident. She felt awkward as she lifted her coffee to her lips, but the draw of the familiar liquid was overpowering. Kurt Crawford left the room, allowing her the privacy she needed to enjoy her meal. She ate slowly, savoring each bite. She knew she wouldn't be able to eat very much, so she made sure she enjoyed what she could. A large quantity of food like this had been a luxury few could expect for many months. She had learned to function on a sparse diet that hadn't included such a variety or quantity. The taste and texture of the scrambled eggs was divine. The fresh butter melting on the toast was a rare treat, one she had not experienced since the beginning of the invasion. She lifted the last cover off a dish on her tray and nearly wept. It was fresh cantaloupe, a rare treat indeed. As soon as her hunger was assuaged she sat back clasping her warm cup of coffee in her two injured hands, unwilling to waste a single drop. Kurt Crawford returned and smiled when he saw that she had been able to eat the majority of the food on her tray. "Thank you," she said before he could speak. He merely nodded his head and removed the tray from the room. She sat sipping her coffee, trying to figure out where she was. All her memories of the invasion could not be a nightmare. She had obviously been severely injured but was still alive. Food didn't taste that good or real in dreams. She tried to remember her last memories. She remembered the firefight that caused her burns, the fear of capture as she and her compatriots ran through the ruins of Roanoke. The appearance of the alien ship had cut off the escape route that she and Mulder had devised. Mulder had been trapped in hiding as she and her unit were driven away from the center of the city. They had made a final stand in an office complex on the outskirts of town. As soon as they entered the underground parking garage, she knew they were finished. Most of the buildings they had hidden in prior to this attack had been connected to the old sewer system of the city. It was their bad luck to choose to make a stand in a building built during the 1990's. There was no escape route to be found. As the alien ship had pounded the building with round after round of fire, she and the others knew they were going to die or be captured. Most took matters into their own hands right away, eating a bullet from their guns before the aliens could enter their hideout and force them to surrender. Everyone knew the fate of those who were incarcerated by their enemy. If they were caught alive, there would be ever lasting life as a slave to their captors. At the last minute, Scully prayed that Mulder would not try to follow her into the afterlife and turned her weapon towards her heart. That was her last memory. She slid her fingers across the fabric of her gown right over the spot she had targeted and found a raised scar but no fresh wound. She had been healed. She tried to imagine how she had wound up here. She contemplated this as she savored her coffee. Kurt Crawford reentered the room with an armful of clothing and tennis shoes in his hand. He smiled at her as he placed the clothes down on the end of her bed. "There is a bathroom with everything you'll need to clean up right though that door," he said pointing to a doorway she had previously ignored. She opened her mouth to ask the questions that were plaguing her mind but he beat her to it. "Once you are showered and dressed, I'll answer any and all of your questions." XXXXX By the time she was through in the bathroom, she was exhausted. She had been shocked by her appearance. She was still emaciated, of course. There hadn't been an abundance of food available on the run. Her scars were numerous. She had come to grips with those months ago. What had really shocked her was her hair, or rather, lack of it. She was completely hairless. She knew it was necessary to cut the hair of the individuals placed into the stasis pods, but she didn't realize that the process completely depilated the entire body. What did she care, anyway? Mulder was gone. In the light of her current position, her looks should be the farthest thing from her mind. She shuffled back into her room and sat down on the bed. She leaned back, intending to rest for just a moment before she sought out Kurt. She woke up hours later, hungry and needing the bathroom again. When she exited the bathroom, Kurt was placing a tray of lunch on the bed table. "I came back earlier, but you were sound asleep. I didn't want to wake you up when you looked so tired." "Thanks," she said her voice rusty with disuse. "I wish you had woken me up. I need to know what's going on here." "Lunch, then information," he assured her before turning to leave. "That's what you said before," she said, losing patience with the Kurt. "First you said you would tell me after breakfast, then it was supposed to be after I showered and changed. Now you're telling me we'll talk after lunch. I think it sounds like you're stalling," she growled. "Please, Ms. Scully, my only concern has been your comfort. I have nothing to hide. I'm just the messenger. I promise you will know everything right after lunch," he said earnestly. At her nod, he turned and left, allowing her to eat in private. Scully appreciated this gesture as she struggled to hold the silverware with her injured hands. It was easier this time. She sighed. Perhaps in time, her hands would heal and simple tasks like eating would almost be normal again. She groaned a contented sigh as she finished her favorite dessert, a chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream. As she pushed the tray table away, Kurt entered the room. It would be spooky how he did that if she didn't know there was probably a camera on her at all times. "What do you have out there, a television camera to watch me?" she teased, knowing he did, but wanting to see how truthful he would be. He nodded, pointing to the corner above the bathroom door. "It's standard equipment in the clinic rooms, Ms. Scully." "You even watched me in the bathroom?" she clarified. "Oh no, not in the bathroom," he assured her quickly. "It's only set up in this room and I used it strictly for medical surveillance while you were unconscious," he added earnestly. "Oh, okay then," she muttered "Are you ready for some answers now?" he asked. She nodded, suddenly afraid of what she was going to find out. Kurt picked up her tray and left the room without another word. He returned in a short while pushing a wheelchair. "You need to go into the day room to use the DVD player," he said. She looked at him quizzically, but slid off the bed and sat down in the wheelchair. "Don't worry, Ms. Scully. I'm going to take you to get your answers now." She had not been out of her room since regaining consciousness and was becoming curious about her surroundings. It seemed to be a combination of a minimum security facility with high-tech equipment. The quiet was deep with only the occasional sound of a bird punctuating the background noise of the ocean's roar. There was no indication that there was anyone else in the building but Kurt Crawford and her. They rolled down a short hallway and into an area that looked more like a family room than a day room in a hospital or jail. Kurt pushed her up to sit in front of a television and turned it on. As they rolled along, she began to ask the questions that flooded her mind. "Where are we? Is this a hospital or a residence? Is anyone else here? Why don't you just answer my questions?" "I'm sorry that there isn't any real television to watch. We do have a supply of DVD's and old VHS tapes. Obviously, there will not be anything new made for a very long time, if ever," he said. "I don't give a damn about TV entertainment, Kurt. I want answers. What am I doing here?" He picked up a remote control and handed it to her. "Just press play when you are ready." He gave her one more enigmatic look and left the room. Scully swallowed hard and gathered her courage. She pressed play. The visage on the screen was a surprise. Walter Skinner appeared, dressed in a uniform with insignias she did not recognize. "Agent Scully," he said. "If you are watching this it means that my plans have succeeded. Welcome back to life." Scully grimaced. 'What the hell is going on?' she thought. "I know you have many questions. The Kurt Crawford clone that is your host does not have the answers you seek about the past. I am here to explain that. Skinner looked down at his notes and frowned. He laid them aside and said, "First, I would like to apologize to you and to Mulder, if he has survived this invasion. If I had believed you that day you came to me, much of the past two years could have been avoided. Not all. The aliens who have attacked us are a thousand times more advanced than we are physically and mentally, not to mention their weaponry. Plans for containment could have been made. The lives of millions of people could have been saved by going into hiding in the many facilities that the military had secreted underground across the country. "But that is a moot point now. Please accept my apology. I do not ask you to forgive me. I cannot expect that. I ... I can't forgive myself." His eyes filled with tears but he shook them off. He straightened his spine and reached for his notes again. "You, Scully, are on an island off the western coast of what was the United States. The island is actually a portion of California that broke off from the mainland during the assault and pirating of our natural resources by our alien friends. The mining in the Rockies sent off shock waves that caused earthquakes on the fault lines all along the coast. "I have learned that there is to be no permanent colonization. We have been destroyed. Our entire civilization has been decimated so that these beings could rape our planet of its natural resources at their leisure. "Thankfully, they are both efficient and speedy in the removal of the elements they need. They will be gone completely from our world within the next few years. When they leave, there will be little left of our way of life. Less than two million human beings will have survived their attack. I have been advised that there will be no industrial complexes left standing. There will be power, the nuclear fusion plants that they have established here to facilitate their operations will remain. They are an unlimited source of power and will last indefinitely as they now stand. Very few of our modern facilities will remain, and none of our electrical equipment will work. The alien weapons have damaged every single circuit of every piece of machinery left in the world. We are to be left with a world of contradictions. We will still have the antigravity equipment they will leave, but our planes, trains and automobiles will no longer work. We will have all the electricity we will need for the rest of our lives, but there will be no microwaves or televisions or lights that will work. We will be thrown back into the dark ages in many ways, but we will never be sick again in our lifetime due to their culling of our species and the equipment they will leave behind. "There are so many details that I would like to consult with you on, Agen ... Scully. You have proven to be invaluable in the past in organizing and identifying the pertinent information needed to solve a case. However, that is never to be." Once again Skinner hesitated, almost overcome with emotion. Dana Scully pressed pause on the DVD controller and considered his words so far. She could not see how any of this information explained her presence on this island. She pressed play again. "Now comes the hard part," Skinner said. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was so familiar it made tears fill her eyes. "I have once again, traded my soul to the devil for a friend. As you know, the man ... individual we knew as C.G.B. Spender is now Supreme Commander. He recently called me to his headquarters and offered me a position, a position of wealth and power, that I turned down. I won't share the threats that he made when I declined, but I will tell you what he dangled in front of me that changed my mind. "You, Scully. Your freedom was my thirty pieces of silver. I am to be the leader of the new generation of human beings left alive after the aliens depart. Spender seemed to feel that my organizational skills would come in handy. I suppose that I should be proud that he felt me above the petty machinations of the rest of his toadies, but I'm not. "In payment for my cooperation, I am to receive assurances that you will be revived from the stasis chamber that you were incarcerated in and placed on an island off the coast of North America. This island will be populated by a large number of the hybrids and clones that still exist. They have been offered this chance to live out their existence in exchange for providing you with everything you need for the rest of your life." Once again he set his papers aside. "Sad, isn't it, Agent Scully? That I should presume to know what you need to be happy?" He cleared his throat and once again began to speak with authority. "You are not a prisoner. This is to be your home. You will not, however, be able to leave this island. There will be no means of transportation available after the aliens leave. Please feel free to ask for anything you need to make your existence comfortable. All the resources found on the island are to be at your command. "The only chance that you will have to leave is if you are contacted by some faction using a sail boat for transportation. I cannot stress strongly enough the need for you to remain on this island. Here you will be safe. You will have a nice home, food, clothing, medical assistance, when necessary. The balance of the world is a wasteland with pockets of humanity struggling to survive. The young people I am to train are the hope for the future of the earth. We will have discipline and order, but that is not the case outside our facilities." Skinner stared into the camera, a look of pleading on his face as he said, "Scully, do not try to leave. I have given my word to work towards a better future for mankind. Please, don't make my sacrifice pointless. "As long as the aliens are here, there will be occasional shipments of supplies made to your island. If you have any requests, please feel free to make them to Kurt Crawford. He will be in contact with others here on the mainland. I have been forbidden to have any further contact with you. "God speed, Dana Scully. You have fought a long and honorable battle. Please accept this existence and know that it will allow me the only small bit of happiness and a peace of mind I will know on this earth." The screen went fuzzy for a few seconds and then turned to a deep blue signaling the end of the DVD. Scully sat there staring at the blue screen through tears that seemed to fall unbidden from her eyes. She pushed the power button and the unit turned off. She sat there for a long time, unaware of the tracks of the sun as it made it's way across the sky. At some point she must have fallen asleep. "Ms. Scully?" the voice of Kurt Crawford brought her back to awareness. "Ms. Scully, it's dinner time," he said. "Are you ready to go back to your room, or would you like to eat in here?" "I want to go to my room. Thank you, Kurt. Please don't bother with dinner. I'm not hungry," she said as he moved forward to push her chair back down the hall. "Nonsense, you must eat. I certainly don't want to have to hook up the I.V. again just to keep you from wasting away," he scolded. She nodded, deciding that she would try to eat. She had a lot of thinking to do and needed to be as strong as she could be to help keep her thoughts clear. By the time she had eaten, though, she was exhausted. Thinking would have to wait for another day. XXXXX 'It's been over a year since I woke up on this island,' she thought as she walked down the beach that evening. She wandered along, thinking of everything that had happened in the past year. She glanced up at the moon, still shocked to see the decimated outline of the once spherical orb. There were two moons now, circling earth. Apparently there had been metals at the core of the moon the aliens wanted and they had thought nothing of destroying it to get to them. 'An entire year and what have I accomplished?' she thought. She huffed what had come to be a laugh for her. 'Accomplishments were for the old order. Survival is the only objective today.' She continued back up the beach towards her cottage. The irony of her thoughts once again almost made her smile. She was living in a home that once would have been considered a mansion. It was a four story Victorian monstrosity that had been built in a small town in the hills of Sierra Nevada Mountains, now just a village on the coast of an unnamed island in the Pacific. She had wanted to move to a smaller place, insisting that her needs were simple and the ostentatious mansion should go to a number of others rather than to her. Kurt Crawford had been adamant, though. Citing her position and the necessity to house her servants and the individuals deemed necessary to support her in the style that Walter Skinner had intended, he had finally worn her down. In truth, it hadn't mattered where she lived. She was only existing in this new life, moving through one day to the next. She had no friends. She had no loved ones. She had no work to keep her going. The fact that she was once again healthy meant nothing. Her good health was just another indicator as to how long her personal hell would continue. Walter Skinner had been true to his word. Supplies had continued to be delivered to the island, preparing them for the day that they would be cut off completely from the rest of the world. The aliens had not withdrawn completely yet but departure was imminent. She was late but knew Kurt would not be worried about her. He had grown accustomed to her long rambles on the beach. It was the only place that she found solace other than her gardens. She quickly freshened up and walked down to the dining room. She was surprised to find Clarice, one of the Cassandra clones serving her dinner. She was frustrated that she couldn't ask where Kurt was. Many of the earlier clones from the Cassandra series, such as Clarice, were mute. She had to be careful not to let her displeasure show on her face. All the clones and hybrids that worked in the house were extremely intuitive and picked up on her moods easily. They had been extremely helpful during her recovery and she hated to upset any of them with her curiosity. She thanked Clarice when dinner was over and her gentle blush made Dana glad that she had curbed her upset over Kurt's absence. He had not missed a meal in the entire time she had been living in the main house. He had become a friend and she valued and looked forward to their conversations over dinner. She prepared for bed and read until she was tired. She would ask him what was going on tomorrow. XXXXX The next morning, Kurt was still not back. Dana set out to find someone that could tell her where he was. She had become fond of him and was worried that something was wrong. He could need her help. She finally found Thomas. He was one of the newest models of the worker hybrids. He told her that Kurt had been called back to the clinic for an emergency. Dana was surprised. The clinic where she had first been housed was rarely used. She was the only one who would have use for most of the equipment kept there. She was, after all, the only human on the island. She sometimes wondered about that but if she dwelled on it, it would slowly drive her mad. Skinner had traded her life for his once again. This time, he had indentured himself to C.G.B. Spender to lead the young men and women that had survived colonization. Did he really know what kind of hell he had thrust her into? She would have gladly chosen death had she had been given a choice. However, she hadn't and she tried to make the most of each day. The last shreds of her youthful religious training held her to this existence. She had railed against her lot when she first saw his message. She had tried to force Kurt Crawford to contact Skinner and make him take her back to face her fate with the rest of the dying civilization. They had no contact with the outside world unless a ship landed. She had sent a long, pleading letter to Skinner asking for him to let her die in order to release him from his contract with Spender. She waited for over three months for his two-word reply. Too late. S XXXXX It was two weeks before she saw Kurt again. When he brought her breakfast in on the first day, she was so concerned about his condition that she made him sit down and eat with her. She ran back down to the kitchen and ordered him a serving of everything they had prepared for her breakfast. When she got back to the dining room, Kurt was asleep with his head on the table. Dana almost decided to let him sleep but the gauntness in his face attested to the fact that he had not been eating regularly. She gently woke him when the food was delivered and talked to him while he ate. She decided that she would get two of the large worker drones to carry him to his quarters after he finished. She watched her friend eat with gusto. He was tired but his hunger overwhelmed the need for sleep. As she sat there with him, she was amazed at the feeling of satisfaction she had over caring for him. She knew that her personality was one that needed to have a purpose in life. Perhaps she had been drifting for too long. Her gardens and nature walks were all fine and good but she needed to work. It was time for a change. It felt good to take care of someone again. "What were you doing that left you no time to eat, Kurt? You shouldn't let yourself get this run down," she scolded. He looked genuinely chagrined as she admonished him about taking care of himself. "Where were you?" she asked. Kurt continued eating as he told her the story of his adventure. "I woke up walking towards the clinic. I started to turn around but found that I couldn't. That's when I realized that I was being called by one of the Enforcers. I was so scared, Dana. I thought at first I was to be eliminated, that I had done something wrong, you know?" She didn't know, but remembered and understood how the feeling of being out of control of one's own actions felt. She still remembered waking up on the bridge in Pennsylvania. She nodded and he continued. "When I got to the clinic, there was an Enforcer there. I could see the outline of his ship behind the building. He led me to the room where you were kept when you got here. There was another stasis pod there with the body of a man inside. He told me I was to bring him out of the stasis and let him live with us here." "Who is he?" she asked automatically. "I was not given that information. I was just told to bring him back from stasis," Kurt said between bites. "Did he live?" Dana asked. She knew that the incidence of death in reanimation was high under the best of circumstances. Here on the island with only Kurt as a technician, the chances of another live retrieval were slim. "Yes," Kurt said sadly. "He came out of the stasis, but when I checked him, I realized that he had been badly damaged." "Damaged?" Dana repeated. "Yes," he said with a nod. "He had been injured before being placed in stasis but none of the wounds were healed. He had a severe head injury, and when I checked, I realized that he was blind." "Oh, no," Dana said. "Did he talk to you? Did he tell you who he was?" "No, I didn't think he could speak, he refused to make any sounds at all while I was working on him. I asked him his name and he merely turned his head away from me." "What does he look like?" Dana asked, wondering if it were one of the rebels she had fought with just a year ago. "It's hard to say," Kurt replied. "Of course he is hairless, like everyone who comes out of stasis. The hair in the pod was all white. He suffered a great deal of damage to his face and chest. He's tall but thin, bordering on starvation. There were no papers or I.D. tags in the pod with him." "What color were his eyes?" Dana asked as she unconsciously ran her hand through her hair. She had been shocked when she awoke bald as a billiard ball. Now, a year later, her hair was still short, a ginger brown color streaked with grey and straight as a stick. "Dana, his eyes," Kurt began. "I don't know what color his eyes are. They are so badly damaged that it was impossible to tell." "Damn! It sounds like he was badly tortured," she said. "No, I don't think so. It looks to me like all the damage done to him was from weapons of war, not torture," Kurt assured her. "But you said he's going to live?" "Yes, he'll live. I don't know for how long." At her curious glance he continued, "His only words to me were, 'Let me die'." "What did you say?" "I told him it was not within my power to let him die. He'd have to make it happen on his own after I healed him." "What's going on now? How come you're back? Did he kill himself?" Dana asked. "No! Of course not!" Kurt said, obviously hurt by her question. "I put him back in the stasis pod and set it to heal him. I don't know how much good it will do. When the pod is set on rejuvenate, the power usage is tremendous. I'm not sure how much I can do for him." "You're going to heal him?" Dana asked, amazed at the incentive taken by the clone. "Yes," he said. "I know I'm not supposed to do more than revive him, but I was thinking that it would be nice for you to have another human on the island with you. I thought that maybe you wouldn't be so sad, Dana." Tears rose to her eyes for the first time since she woke from stasis. The thoughtfulness of his actions was so far beyond the scope of the clone mentality that she was shocked. "Kurt! They won't ... kill you for going beyond your orders, will they?" Kurt did not answer right away. When he did, he had a gleam of conviction in his eyes, "I don't care. It was wrong to bring him here without healing him first. There is no reason an individual should suffer as he would have for the rest of his life." "Kurt, thank you," Dana said. She put her hand on his, voluntarily touching him for the first time since they met. "Besides," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I think that his delivery was one of the last things the Enforcer had to do before he left for home." "What?" "I have felt for many days that the alien presence is lessening. I think they're going home." XXXXX The first time he woke, he was only aware of the pain. Every square inch of his body hurt, inside and out. He tried to moan but his voice box hurt. He finally gave in and let the darkness take him over again. The next time he woke, he was feeling moderately better. Now he only hurt on the outside. The pains around his heart and stomach were gone. His joints ached but it was tolerable. He tried to turn his head to see where he was and realized that his entire head was swathed in bandages. This was bad, very, very bad. He struggled to sit up, but the pain in his hands and chest blossomed into an uncontrollable beast and the darkness took him again. The third time he woke, he was pain free. He was still in the dark, but he quickly realized that the bandages over his eyes were the reason. He could hear someone walking around in the room. From the purposeful sounds of their steps, they weren't just wasting time. He cocked his head, as if in doing so he could hear better. His movement obviously caught the attention of his attendant. "Ah, you are awake." The voice was male, friendly, but unrecognizable. He turned his head towards the voice but did not reply. The man began talking to him about incidentals of his care. He was in bad shape, he said, due to a large number of burns and debris that had festered in his wounds. His chest and face had taken the brunt of the injury. He had one broken leg. Both hands were badly damaged, and oh yes, he was blind as well. He struggled to speak. His caretaker brought a straw to his lips and he sucked greedily on the cool liquid. "Are you in pain?" the voice asked. He shook his head. "Can I do anything for you?" He struggled to verbalize his only desire. "Let me die," he whispered. "I can't do that," his nemesis said in a shocked voice. "If you want to die, you're going to have to wait until you're healthy enough to do it yourself." He heard purposeful movements and then a sting of cold liquid as the additive to his I.V. hit his system. Everything turned black again. When he woke again, he was sitting up in a wheelchair. He realized that all the equipment that had been hooked up to him before was gone. It was a testament to the professionalism of his caretaker that only their absence marked their previous use. His head was still swathed in bandages, as was his right hand. He could feel the sun on his skin and the sound of the ocean was a welcomed background. "You're awake," the voice of his caretaker said as he walked towards him from his left. "Good. You can drink this instead of having a feeding line installed." A cold glass was put in his left hand. Warm fingers curled over his, helping him grasp it and bring it to his mouth. A straw struck his lip through the slit in the bandages that still swathed his entire head and he nibbled around trying to get it in place. "That's good," came the warm praise. "I think you will like this. I've been told it tastes like a chocolate milkshake with caramel added. If this isn't to your taste, I have several other mixes that might work." He drank slowly, the cold of the drink giving him a pain in his head when he tried to drink too fast. He was still hungry when the drink was gone. He lifted the glass out to ask for more. "No, sorry. That's all you can have right now. I will send you more in a couple hours. Are you tired now? Do you want to go back to bed?" He shook his head, wanting to stay awake for a little longer. The huge yawn that he let out minutes later gave him away. Strong arms slid under his knees and around his shoulders, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. He jerked when first touched and the voice came from across the room. "Sorry, next time I'll remember to give you a warning when Jason is going to touch you." The strong arms placed him gently on the bed and retracted from him. When he thought to listen, he could hear heavy steps retreating from the room as the door shut. His caretaker walked around the room, straightening his sheets and putting things in order. His caretaker kept up a steady patter of one-sided conversation that he ignored as he slid into sleep. He woke again, thirsty and desperately needing to use the bathroom. He heard the steps of what sounded like a child run to the door. Moments later his caretaker returned. "Well, Suzi tells me that you are in need of the bathroom and want a drink," he said. He turned his head, trying to convey his question as his feet were lowered to the floor. "Ah, Suzie is a telepath. If you were one too, you could converse with her. However, you aren't so she cannot read your thoughts, only your general needs. She is here until you decide you want to talk to me. I have no way of knowing what you need otherwise." He was helped into the wheelchair again and rolled into the bathroom, helped onto the toilet and left alone. The humiliation of having to use the facility like a woman washed over him for a moment before his practicality took over. Better this than to wet himself like a baby or keep the catheter. He managed to finish and stood to wash his hands. There was a sharp knock on the door and it was opened. He felt a strong hand on his arm as he was guided back to the chair. When they got back to his bed, he stood up on his own and climbed back into bed. "Ah, I see you're getting stronger, perhaps tomorrow we can dispense with the wheelchair." He reached out and tapped his caretaker on the arm, making sure he had his attention, then lifted his hands to his eyes. He made a gesture as if tearing off the bandages that completely swathed his head but was quickly stopped by firm hands. "Your eyes are healing. You were blind when you came here, but I ... I reset the stasis pod and used it to regenerate your optic nerves. You might still be blind, but I had to try. You must leave the bandages on until I remove them. I know it's uncomfortable, having your entire head bandaged like that. Hopefully, the stasis procedure will not only heal your eyes, but some of the burns on your face as well if we keep them covered. I wasn't able to leave you in stasis long enough to complete the regeneration, but the process had advanced far enough along to possibly complete itself with time and absolute darkness. Do you understand?" He nodded and lowered his hands. "You know, you could make this a lot easier on all of us if you would start talking again," he said hopefully. He shook his head and turned away from the voice. XXXXX Two more months went by and the slow process of his recuperation was finally almost over. His eyes were healing, slowly, according to his keeper, but his strength had returned as he gained weight from the balanced diet he was fed. The long walks along the beach with Suzi had helped him regain his strength, as had the physical therapy he received each day. He had moved to a small cottage down near the beach. The medicinal smells of the clinic were replaced by the clean, fresh smell and sounds of the sea. Suzi went with him. She apparently was in contact with his caretaker, telepathically, at all times. He had become used to the silent presence of his little Suzi. She was small, only about the size of a ten year old, and very unobtrusive, but his every want and need was attended to either by her or by one of the other clones that were assigned to him at her behest. He knew he had been getting better for weeks now. A feeling of restlessness was overtaking him. For a while the move to the cottage satisfied his need for action. He had been off all medications for over a month. He was still taking a sleeping pill at night, though, because his nightmares had frightened Suzi into a near catatonic state. Kurt had insisted that he use the sleep aids, assuring him that they were non-narcotic. He promised that they would end when he no longer needed Suzi's assistance. The child slept on a cot right out side his door, and was connected to him mentally at all times. The first time he had woken with a morning erection, Suzi had nearly giggled herself silly. Only the intervention of a stern-voiced Kurt Crawford had sobered her. He was glad that Kurt had told her to be respectful and withdraw her attentions when she felt his mind wander in this direction. He promised himself to never get a hard-on again in front of the child. It was easier said than done as his health improved, but the need for propriety around the child had kept him sane. He got used to asking her to go get his breakfast from the main kitchen while he showered, giving himself a small window of privacy each day. His caretaker had finally introduced himself as the final Kurt Crawford clone. It made sense to him that the young man would be the one to take care of him. The Kurts had been some of the most advanced clones produced prior to the war. As far as he knew, this Kurt did not know his identity. He had decided that it would remain that way. The man he had been was better off dead. His only reason for living had been taken from him months before he had been captured. "I have a surprise for you today," Kurt said. "There is someone here that wants to meet you." He sat up straighter and shook his head. He felt Suzi's hand on his arm and a warm feeling of comfort flooded his mind. He pulled away and picked up his cane. He felt his way back indoors and shut the door, indicating his desire to be left alone. He stood inside the room, close to the door, listening for a clue as to who had been standing with Kurt on the porch. He heard their low conversation as they stood outside. "I am so sorry, that was incredibly rude of him," Kurt said. "That's all right, we should have known and ask his permission for me to visit," a low, female voice responded. "Even so, he has no right," Kurt began. She cut him off by saying, "I would have felt the same way, Kurt, had it been me in his position. Let's wait for a few weeks and maybe he'll be more agreeable to some company later." A woman. Kurt had brought a female to visit him. What did the clone think he was, desperate? He decided to have nothing to do with her right then and there. He didn't need a hybrid or clone to give him a pity fuck. XXXXX Several weeks went by and Kurt's prediction that the aliens, or Enforcers as he called them, were leaving had proved to be right. One night there was a brilliant flash on the horizon and when they got up the next day, none of the appliances that used electricity would work. Only the equipment that had been supplied by the aliens continued to function. They were gone. The settlers had been preparing for this day since they had been relocated to the island. A number of new inventions had made by several of the more ingenious members of the community that utilized the alien power source. Their industry had made sure that they had hot water, a means to cook food, sanitary facilities as well as refrigeration to store foods that were not dried or canned. The island location left the settlement with only a rudimentary need for heat. They were prepared, but Dana Scully wondered how the rest of the world was surviving. Often her thoughts skittered to Walter Skinner and his troops of young people. How many would die due to starvation or exposure? How well had they been prepared? Unless a message was delivered from the mainland, they would never know. Kurt had informed Dana that their visitor was doing well, and would have his bandages off his eyes in three weeks, one way or another. He had become increasingly impatient, but seemed willing to wait the final few weeks to insure the best results. He had continued to refuse to meet her. For some reason he had taken an aversion to her sight unseen and refused to have anything to do with her. She had decided that she would wait until he was ready for company. Kurt was the only one who appeared to be curious as to the aversion of his male human patient to his female human friend. He thought that they would find solace in the company of one another. At her insistence, he dropped the subject. She watched the newcomer often. She was surprised how much she desired his company. He walked with a limp and his shoulders were often slumped in defeat. He had started to grow in some hair but it was pure white. She thought he looked to be about sixty years old, but revised that estimate downward when his health improved and his physical abilities increased. He no longer looked as old, just very sad. One day she was walking on the beach and practically stumbled upon him sitting on her favorite outcropping of rock. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know anyone was going to be here," she said. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice rusty with disuse. She turned, surprised that he had spoken to her. She knew that he had not spoken to Kurt, and felt that his obstinate behavior should not be rewarded. She felt no need to enlighten the stubborn man as she decided to withhold her identity. "I am the Eve of this island paradice, as you are the Adam," she said. "Ah, Kurt's told you I won't talk to him, I take it," he said with a chuckle. "Yes," she answered shortly. "Well, Eve, it's nice to meet you finally. You've watched me long enough." At first she was infuriated at his attitude, but soon calmed herself down. 'How would I feel if I were blind, maybe permanently?' she asked herself pragmatically. She stood silently next to him. "Am I taking your place?" he asked. "Yes, I usually sit here and read in the afternoons," she said. She narrowed her gaze at him and continued, "But you know that don't you?" "Yes," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. "I may not be able to see, but my other senses have taken over for me. I've heard your footsteps on the path near my porch and smelled your scent as you walked by almost every day. Don't let me stop you," he said, scooting over an inch or two. "Never mind," she sniffed. "I'll come back another time." "Wait, please," he called. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I'll go. I'm just bored out of my mind now that there is no electronic entertainment. It's difficult to entertain myself without the use of my eyes." She stopped and turned back to him. "Boredom is no reason to be rude, Adam." Her voice was low, barely a loud whisper over the sounds of the ocean. It had been damaged by the gas used during one of the attacks of the aliens. She normally didn't even think about it, but was now somewhat embarrassed by it. In a previous world, her husky voice would have been considered sexy, alluring. Now it was just another reminder of the ravages of war. "What are you reading?" he asked. She stood there studying him, this stranger that had been thrust into her isolation. "It's a book on horticulture," she said. "Oh, I thought it might be a novel that you could share," he said wistfully. She grinned to herself. "Well, I did bring another book along, just in case the gardening book was too boring," she admitted. "Would you like me to read to you?" "It's not one of those girly bodice-rippers is it?" he teased in a scolding voice. "No! It's ..." she stopped, realizing that he was teasing her. "It's a book I found in the library that looked funny. It's called Bloodsucking Fiends by Christopher Moore." "Vampires, Eve?" he chuckled. She laughed along with him and then said, "Well, it does have a subtitle, 'A Love Story'. Why? Not interested in the paranormal?" "Let's just say my interest in the unusual has waned since the invasion," he said sadly. "I think it's that way for all of us," she responded. "Are you game?" "Please," he responded as he scooted over to give her room to sit down next to him in the shade. She settled herself and began to read, "Sundown painted purple across the great Pyramid while the Emperor enjoyed a steaming whiz against a dumpster in the alley below," she began. Thus began their friendship. XXXXX Dana walked briskly up the path to the clinic. Today was the day Kurt was going to remove the bandages from Adam's eyes and face. She slowed, thinking that perhaps she should have changed her clothes before she left, but shook her head. She was not trying to impress this man. She had no need to impress any man since losing Mulder. He was a friend and she was going to lend him moral support. That was all. She met up with Kurt at the door of the clinic. He had been overseeing the planting of the new crops that they had discussed recently. Even though they had an abundance of canned and dried foods, fresh vegetables and fruits would be a welcome addition to their meals now that their supply from the mainland had ended. "Hello, D... Eve," he called out when he saw her. He didn't fully understand her need to hide her real name from Adam, but he went along with it. Perhaps it was his stubborn refusal to identify himself that caused her pique. It didn't matter. She was, after all, the reason he currently existed and he was more than willing to do whatever she asked. "Hello, Kurt. Today is the big day, huh?" He smiled and nodded. Suzi had mentally alerted him to the fact that Adam was waiting impatiently in the clinic already. "Yes, I think Adam is very happy that today is finally here." "Do you think the procedure worked?" she asked. "I don't know. I believe he will have some vision restored. The previous exams have been promising," Kurt responded truthfully. "Hey, you two, are you going to stand out there jawing all day or are we going to do this?" Adam yelled from inside the clinic. Dana smirked at Kurt and turned to walk in the door. "In a hurry, Adam?" "Yes," he growled. "Wouldn't you be?" "Yes," she admitted. Kurt led Adam to a chair in one of the interior rooms. He adjusted the lighting to a dim glow and moved to remove the bandages. "It may take a few minutes before your eyes adjust to the light, Adam. Don't be upset if you can't see clearly right away. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them after I put these drops in them." Tense moments passed as he removed the multiple layers of bandages and then the black patches that had insured no light would reach the nerves before they were completely re-grown. As the last bandage fell away, Dana gasped. "Do I have a lot of scaring around my eyes?" Adam asked. He had kept his eyes closed as requested, half in fear of failure and half in pleasure of the faint pink glow he could see through his closed eyelids. "Eve? What's wrong?" "Nothing," she croaked out. "All right, Adam, you may open your eyes when you're ready," Kurt said after he finished with the drops. Adam felt his lids flutter but did not allow them to open. The drops were at first a stinging intrusion, then a welcome addition as they worked on lubricating his eyeballs. He let his eyes slit open and the first thing he saw was the smiling face of Kurt Crawford. Adam smiled and said, "You still have your red hair." Kurt's eyebrow rose in surprise. "You knew I had red hair?" "Yes," Adam said. "I met one of your brothers years ago. I think you've succeeded, Kurt, even more than you expected. I used to be red/green colorblind. But I can see your red hair," he said with a delighted laugh. He looked around and asked, "Where's Eve?" The men looked around for her, but both of them were surprised that she was no longer in the room. Adam wanted to go get her, but Kurt had a number of tests and procedures he had to complete in order to make sure that Adams sight was fully restored. The next big shock for Adam was Suzi. "My God!" he gasped. "Suzi is a Samantha clone." Tears flooded his eyes as the little girl came closer to him and patted his arm. He held out his hands to her and she grinned up at him as she climbed up on his lap. Adam sobbed as he held her and rocked her. "She says that she looks like someone you loved a long time ago," Kurt said. "Yes," Adam replied. "She does." He kissed the little girl and sent her on her way back to the main house. "Thank you, Suzi, for all your help. I'd really like to be alone for a while tonight, if you don't mind." Kurt glanced at him in surprise, but nodded at the child and she skipped out the door. Kurt resumed the testing. It was almost dark outside when they were done. Kurt was finally assured that the procedure had worked and was completed. He gave Adam a few precautions to follow and they both left to go to the main house for supper. Eve was conspicuously absent from the dinner table when they got there. Adam wanted to go to her room to get her, but Kurt asked him to wait until he spoke with her. He had been receiving a feeling of unrest from the clones in the house since her return. She was upset and they had picked it up from her, broadcasting it to Kurt several hundred yards away. XXXXX Dana Scully was in shock. Adam was Mulder. Her mind reeled with this information. He was alive. She had mourned this man so many times in her life, only to have him come back from the dead. She was shocked more by her own surprise than by the fact that he was alive. What if it wasn't really Mulder? She should have known that the man behind the bandages was Mulder. If this was a clone or an alien sent here to destroy her, what was she going to do? She had heard countless stories of Enforcers posing as Mulder to gain access to pockets of the Rebels, only to kill all of them, down to the last man, woman and child. Could she harm a being that looked like Mulder? Not for the first time, she wished she had a gun at her disposal here. She immediately dismissed this as a minor concern. Spender knew where she was all along and had not chosen to destroy her before now. Her mind circled back to her original thoughts. She should have known. Why did she not feel him? How could she have missed all the clues? Now that she looked back, she realized that they were there. The long lanky body, the artist's hands, hadn't changed. Oh, they were scared, they were damaged, but they were the same. She should have known. Her heart soared with happiness even as doubt began to cloud her mind. She was again gripped with an unreasonable fear. She sank down in the hot water of her tub in an effort to drive the icy cold fear from her body. What if he didn't remember his own name? What if he didn't remember her? What if he wanted to forget everything that had happened since the coming of the Enforcers? She couldn't blame him if he had blocked his past from his mind. Hadn't she begged God for forgetfulness many times in the past herself? She needed this time to process the shock of seeing him again. She began to shake, recognizing the signs of shock. She drained some of the water from the tub and turned on the hot water again. She needed to warm up. She felt that she would never be warm again. Who had brought him here? Was it Walter Skinner? Did he find Mulder and have him brought to this island prison too? Or was it Spender? Did he do it to torture her? Why hadn't Mulder known that it was her? The two big questions in her mind remained. Did he have true amnesia from a head wound or was he psychologically damaged by the horrors of war? The really big one was, however, would he remember who she was and what they had been to each other? She climbed out of the tub and dried off quickly. She was still cold so she pulled on her flannel pajamas and a heavier fleece robe that Kurt had given her last winter. She pulled on a pair of heavy wool socks before she walked across the room to made herself a cup of tea at the little gas cook top in the kitchenette. To call this her bedroom was a true understatement. It was a master suite with a small kitchenette and a sitting area by the fireplace. She turned off all the lights and sat in front of the fire she had started for warmth. She pulled her afghan down from the settee and tried to get warm. XXXXX There was a soft knock on her door and she thought about ignoring it for a moment. When it sounded again, she got up and unlocked it, pulling it open to find Kurt there. "Dana, may I come in?" he asked. "Are you alone?" she said automatically. "Yes, Adam is downstairs waiting for me to find out if you are all right." "Adam." "Dana, what's wrong? Is it Adam?" His concern was escalating with each of her terse responses. "That's not his name," she said. "Do you know who he is, Dana?" "Yes," she said with a sigh. "I know who he's supposed to be, at least." Kurt looked at her closely and for the first time saw the outward signs of distress that she tried to hide. "Dana, let's sit down." They went back to the fireplace and sat down. Kurt was very careful to wrap the afghan around her for maximum warmth. "Tell me," he coaxed. "Did he tell you his name?" she asked right away. "No, but he was concerned about his friend, Eve. He wanted to know why you ran away." "Kurt, do you know why I'm here?" she asked, suddenly unsure of anything and everyone. "Yes, you were placed here for your safety's sake by Walter Skinner, the leader of the New Order." He gave her a puzzled look and said, "What does that have to do with Adam?" "I don't know, well, at least I didn't until today. Kurt, the man that we've called Adam for lack of a better name looks exactly like my ... my former FBI partner, Fox Mulder. I don't have to tell you about the abilities of the beings you call the Enforcers. I have personally seen one of them impersonate my partner and then morph back into his true self right in front of my eyes." "What does that have to do with Adam?" "Kurt, that man looks like Mulder, but what if he really isn't him? Why was he brought here in the first place? What if he's here to kill me?" Kurt opened his mouth to deny her fears, but thought better of it and snapped it shut. "I'll be right back," he said suddenly. "Lock your door behind me and don't let anyone in except me." "If he is an Enforcer, he could morph into you, too," Dana said almost hysterically. "Then don't let anyone in unless they use a password. What do you want to use?" "Queequeg," she said automatically. Kurt nodded and smiled. "Queequeg, it is." He slipped out of her door and she threw the lock, then thought better of it and pushed a chair under the handle for reinforcement. Nearly a half an hour passed before there came another knock on her door. She startled from her place by the fire and went to answer it. "Who is it?" "It's Kurt, Dana." She backed away from the door, looking for something to use as a weapon. "Queequeg, Dana, the password is Queequeg," he whispered. She decided to take her chances and opened the door. Kurt was standing there and she could see Mulder standing at the end of the hall. She moved back to let Kurt enter. "Dana, it's him. I told him that Eve recognized him from before and thought that he was dead. She was afraid that an Enforcer had faked his way in here. He admitted that he was Mulder right away, but said that Adam was as good a name as any, since the only person he wanted to call him 'Mulder' had been dead for almost two years." Dana shook her head in denial. She wasn't exactly clear, even in her own mind what she was denying. "Dana, you have to let him know you're here," Kurt urged. "No," she whispered. "I can't." "Why?" "It can't be him. He's ... I gave up all hope of ever seeing him again and I don't think I could bear it if it's not really him." "Dana," Kurt scolded. "Why would he lie? Why would he go through the months of blindness to see again if he were a fake? After I thought about it, I realized that he would have to be a genius to change the settings on the stasis pod to register as human if he's not. Talk to him, let him tell his story." Dana Scully was torn. She wanted this to be Mulder so badly, but she was terrified that it was just another set up, a way to torture her. However, the desire to see Mulder again, to touch him and kiss him, was overwhelming. "All right, I'll talk to him," she agreed. "But not directly. I want you to take him back down to the library and get him to tell you his story. I'll be in the servant's entrance behind the curtains listening. I'll know if it's really Mulder." Kurt argued with her for a few minutes but could not change her mind. He finally agreed to her plan. She had convinced him to ask Adam/Mulder a few questions she had supplied. These questions could only be answered by the true Mulder. "Give me a few minutes after you get settled to get in place," she instructed him. "I need a few minutes to clean up before I join you." She blushed as Kurt smirked at her. "Get out of here." XXXXX "Why won't she come down and talk to me?" Mulder asked. He was concerned by Eve's reaction to him. She was one of the few friends he had here, not to mention the only other non-genetically enhanced or generated being. 'How politically correct does one have to be post apocalypse?' he thought with an inner grin. "What is her real name?" he asked. Kurt waited until they were seated before responding to his questions. "She was one of the final freedom fighters captured. She had heard that you were dead and that there was an Enforcer using your identity to ferret out all the rest of the surviving humans not in the interment camps." "That's a valid fear except for the fact that I was in the stasis pod and you surely should know that I'm human. I mean, doesn't that contraption give you all the readouts that would prove that I'm human?" "Yes, yes, you're right, but she's had a hard time adjusting to life here and your appearance has thrown her for a loop. When she saw your face, she thought that you were just another way to torture her. You didn't help anything, you know, by not giving us your real name." "Well, I told you, I had my reasons," Mulder said. "Yes, you did. Now, exactly how did you get here? Who sent you?" "I don't really know. One minute I was in the middle of a firefight and heard an explosion. The next, I woke up here in the clinic," he said with a shrug. "I should be dead. I was in one of the final groups engaged. All the others we had heard about were executed on the spot, too many injuries, too hard-headed to be useful in the new regime." "Nothing? You don't remember anything else?" Kurt pried. He was trying to think of a way to ask him the questions Dana had supplied without giving away her true identity. She should have thought that her questions would sound strange coming from him. How could he know to ask them unless he was prompted by Dana Scully, herself? His attention was drawn back to the man in front of him as he began to answer his last question. "Yeah, pain. Lots and lots of pain," he said quietly. "I could tell by your wounds and old scars that you'd been through the mill," Kurt agreed. "How did you keep going?" Mulder looked at him for a long moment then away to stare in the fire. The moments expanded and Kurt thought he wasn't going to answer. "I ... I didn't really mind the physical pain. It kept my mind off ... other things," he mused. "Other things? What?" "Things like the end of civilization as I knew it, the waste of our environment and the mass slaughter of my species. Why I wasn't able to prevent all the deaths. All ... the ... people, the innocent people," his broken words fell away. "You fought valiantly, Mr. Mulder, from all accounts. You were the most revered leader of the resistance." "It's easy to be valiant when everything has been taken away from you. I fought like I did because I wanted to die at the end. I fought as I did because ... I had nothing left to lose. Every single person I've ever loved has died because they were close to me. When Scully died, I had nothing to live for. I just wanted to do as much damage to the bastards as I could before I fell." Kurt considered his words for several long minutes before asking, "What does that have to do with not telling us your name?" Mulder turned to stare at the younger man. "Don't you see? We lost, even though they left, humanity has lost everything. I've lost everything." He turned back to the fire before continuing. "I don't want to be Mulder if there's no Scully in my life. The name Adam is as good as the next. It's a hell of a lot easier to put up with than Fox." "You miss your Scully?" "I do. The funny thing is, I always thought I would feel it when she died. I didn't, though. I never have. I just feel empty like I used to feel when she was away from me, visiting her family or off on a consult with another department." He snorted and gave Kurt a wry grimace. "Sometimes I lie in my cottage and listen to the ocean. I pretend that she's just off visiting her family and I'm at the Vineyard. She's going to come to me in just a few days ... a few thousand minutes, and she'll be back in my arms." The only sound in the room was the gentle snap of the fire as it blazed away. He sniffed and stretched. "I need to get back to my cottage," he said as he made to stand up. "No! Why don't you stay here tonight? I'm sure Eve will be willing to meet with you by morning. You could have breakfast with us," Kurt offered. At the contemplative glance Mulder gave him, he said, "I'll have someone make up a room for you right away. That way Suzi won't have to be out in the night air." "No, don't bother with the room. I'm sure she's already curled up somewhere, waiting for me. I'll stay, but I'll just sleep here by the fire. I've gotten used to sleeping in a lot worse places since the war began." "Good," Kurt said, standing to leave. "When you see Eve, try to understand her fears. She's had a hard time of it, too." "You never did tell me her story," Mulder said. "That's right, I didn't," Kurt said firmly. "It's her tale to tell." "Yeah, I guess it is. See you in the morning." Fox Mulder sighed and looked back at the fire. Everyone had their own story. He was sure Eve's was much more interesting than his. He stood, stretching slowly, working out the pain in his muscles and joints. 'I'm too damn young to feel this old,' he thought. He walked over to the couch and pulled a couple pillows and the afghan off the back. He put a couple more logs on the fire and lay down on the lush, Oriental rug in front of the hearth. He covered himself with the afghan and lay there staring at the fire until sleep overtook him. XXXXX Dana Scully held both hands over her mouth to keep the sound of her sobs from interrupting the conversation in the library. Mulder's pain was just as hers had been when she awoke here with out him. She had wondered at the feelings she'd had, too. She had never been able to feel a difference in their connection. She had convinced herself that she was only kidding herself. They had never had any kind of cosmic connection in the first place. It was one of the things she did to keep herself sane. She tried to stop crying several times, wanting to step out and tell him that their pain of separation was over, but the overwhelming joy she felt at regaining him was creating as many tears as his loss had previously. She tiptoed back into the kitchen and ran to the bathroom near the servant's quarters. Her legs gave out and she crumbled into a heap there on the floor. She sobbed until she became nauseous. She actually had the dry heaves before she brought her tears under control. She finally stood up and staggered to the sink. She splashed cold water on her face for a long time, letting the cold water wash away the heat of her skin and the tracks of her tears. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and had to laugh. 'Damn! I never could cry pretty,' she thought. She dried her face and stood there examining her reflection in the mirror. She began to wonder how Mulder would react to seeing her again. She had changed. Her hair was still short from the stasis chamber. What little had grown in was a ginger brown and grizzled with white. It had grown in straight as a stick. 'After all those years of blow-drying it straight, I should be glad,' she thought. Now, it just looked ugly to her. At least her eyebrows and lashes had grown back. She was scarred -- everywhere. It would probably be a while before she could feel comfortable sharing her body with Mulder again. As soon as she acknowledged that thought, she knew she was wrong. She would strip down to her skin in front of every inhabitant on the island just to feel his body next to hers for one moment. She knew that their relationship was not based on physical attraction. They had been friends and intellectual mates long before physical love had been part of their relationship. They'd been in denial for years. When the invasion began, they realized how short life could be, and had given in to the desire they had repressed for years, and become a couple. With these thoughts giving her strength, she left to go to him. They both had been alone long enough. She needed him and was sure that he would want her as soon as he knew who she really was. XXXXX Mulder turned over from his side onto his back. He reached behind his head and arranged the pillows to a more comfortable position. He smacked his chops and licked his lips unconsciously. A small gasp made him open his eyes. There was a woman kneeling by his feet. He opened his eyes a little more and smiled. He stretched out his hand and said, "I knew you would come to me tonight, Scully. I always dream about you after I think about you a lot." Dana Scully gasped again and shook her head. "I'm not a dream, Mulder. I'm really here." "Sure, fine, whatever," he teased. "Just don't leave until we make love, okay?" She laughed and nodded her head. She reached down and pulled off her shirt, sliding forward on her knees to shove her pants and underwear off. As she stood up, she stepped out of them and kicked them away. She stretched out her hand and let her fingertips touch his. "Does this feel like I'm a dream?" she asked with a smile on her face. "No," he said as his hand grasped hers. "It never does, though, until I wake up. Don't let me wake up, Scully. I don't want to live without you any longer." "How about we both wake up and live together?" she husked. "I might as well ask for the moon to be whole again, Baby. I'll take what I can get," he said as he pulled her down next to him. "Mulder, lose the clothes," she whispered. "You do it. I want to feel your hands on me," he begged. "These?" she said as she lifted her scared, damaged hands level with his eyes. He rubbed his fingers over her hands and turned them over looking at all the damage done to them by the war before bringing them to his lips and kissing each one of them. "I don't care what they look like, Scully. I just need to feel you. I love you, please love me." So, she did. She tugged at his shirt and quickly had it off him. Her fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, but they laughed and worked on it together. As she drew his boxers and jeans down his legs, she let her eyes take in his body. She noted the new scars, but ignored them, instead focusing on the fact that she could count all his ribs. "You are way too thin, Mulder. We have to fatten you up." "I haven't had much of an appetite without you, Scully. Stick around and I'll get fat and sassy," he teased. "Oh, I intend to," she said as she lowered her lips to kiss his chest. "I won't ever leave again." Their lovemaking was slow and sweet, both taking their time, lingering over each other, letting their kisses and their touches express the depth of their love. She gently pushed him down on the plush rug and let her hands slide down his body. She had missed touching him every day since she last saw him. She cupped his balls with her damaged hands, making sure that her touch was gentle. She let her thumbs side up and down the sides of his erection. Thank God he had never been damaged here. She lowered her lips to kiss him from his silky hair, all the way up to the tip of his erection. God, how she had missed this man, missed this. His cock still felt like silk over steel, so good. So damn good. She licked around the head and down, circling to kiss and lick up the other side. She glanced up into his eyes and smiled as she kissed the very tip, then let her tongue begin to lap at the liquid he was producing. "God, Scully," he groaned. "I've missed you so damn much! My dreams have never been this good before." Her hum of agreement vibrated along the length of him, making his hips lift and his breathing speed up. He reached down and tried to push her away. "Baby, don't wanna come like this. Need to be in you, but I'm so close. I won't be able to stop if you don't quit now." "You'll be in me, Mulder, but first, I need this. I've dreamed of this every night for a year. Please, let me love you, Mulder. Let me." He groaned but pulled his hand back, stroking through her short hair. "Oh, God, Scully," he bellowed as she let the entire length of him slide down her throat in one smooth stroke. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gonna come." She clasped his cock at the base, putting just enough pressure on at the right places to make his ejaculation back off, but not enough to lessen the pleasure he was feeling as she sucked and kissed and licked the entire length of him for several moments. He began groaning, thrashing his head back and forth on the pillow. His hips began to stroke up into her as she began to suck harder. She released her grasp on his cock, sliding her hands around to cup the cheeks of his ass. He thrust upwards into her mouth and with one mighty bellow of "Scully!" he came. His ejaculate streamed from him as thrust after thrust sent him into her throat. His breathing was shallow and his voice was high and thready. "God, I love you, Scully. Love you to suck me off. Love to fuck you. Love to eat you." This last said, he pulled her up level with his face and kissed her. He could taste his come on her lips. It was one of the most exciting things that he'd ever tasted in his life. Almost, he decided, as exciting as tasting her sweet nectar as he ate her. He flipped them over, settling in the vee of her legs as if he had never left. They kissed for several minutes, letting their lips speak for them as their emotions overpowered them and words became impossible. Finally he had his fill of her luscious lips. He began to kiss her face all over, moving to nibble her ears and suck on the pulse point of her neck, leaving his mark on her. "Wanted you for so long," he mouthed as he moved down her body to worship her breasts. Tears formed as he encountered the long scar that stretched across her chest and the raised round wound that looked eerily like a bullet wound right over her heart. 'I will ask about them later,' he thought as his lips found and began to torture her nipples. He suckled and bit gently, licking and tonguing and worshiping one then the other. Her breathing had increased and he knew from past experience that the little mewling sounds she was making meant that she was almost crazy with desire. He slid down further, nipping the soft valley of her belly and the sweet, milky flesh that he adored just above the line of hair that protected her sex. He blew on the curls that had grown in, noticing the change of texture and color as he did. It made him sad to think about what she had experienced in the stasis pod, but at the same time, grateful that it had been there to give her another chance at life. He began to nibble the hood of her clit, letting the pressure and slight sucking of his lips excite her. Her clit slid out and began to throb as he started to lick and nip the flesh on and around it. Scully's hips initiated an undulating movement that gave her maximum pleasure as he stiffened his tongue and began to stroke against her briskly. He slid his hand down and let his finger begin to stroke her around the lips of her vulva. He could feel the strong muscles of her vagina clench and release, clench and release as she fought to hold back her orgasm. "Mulder, in me," she gasped. He lifted his head so that he could be sure that she could see his face as he spoke to her. "Not yet, Scully, I need to feel you come in my mouth first. When I fuck you, you're going to need all the lubrication you can get, 'cause I'm going to fuck you long and hard." As he spoke he slid his first two fingers into her, letting them swirl around first the outer lips and then on into the depths of her, finally coming to rest against her G-spot. He wiggled his fingers in a 'come here' gesture and she practically shot off the floor. Her back arched and the only points touching were her shoulders and the heels of her feet. He laughed as he lowered his face back down between her legs and ate her voraciously. His greedy tongue and questing fingers soon had her at the edge, begging for release. He grunted and latched on to her clit, biting it between his teeth gently as his tongue whipped back and forth over it. She screamed his name at the top of her lungs, her damaged voice turning the two syllables of his name into a symphony. "Mul ... der!" Her quaking lasted forever. He couldn't tell if she had one huge long orgasm or several strong ones in a row, but he refused to quit his loving torture until she was weeping for mercy. He moved back onto his knees and stared at her as she tried to bring her panting breaths back down to somewhere near normal. His feral stare wasn't helping. Instinctively he grasped his cock in his right hand and began to slowly stroke it as he watched her regain her composure. She opened her eyes to glare at him, the blue almost electric in the light of the fire. She smiled and stretched, cat-like, letting the points of her breasts beckon and tease him again. "God, I needed that," she growled. She moved up on her knees facing him. The golden glow of the fire washed over her body and reminded him of how she had looked that first weekend they had made love. It had been at his cabin at Quonochontaug in front of the fire there, the same golden glow, the same blue flames in her eyes, and the same love in his heart for this woman. It had been the first place they fled to when the invasion came. There they had made plans to join to the resistance. He hadn't thought anything could match that moment, but this dream made even that magic moment pale. He cupped her face in his hands and leaned forward, half way to meet her in a long, wet, tender kiss. They had always loved kissing one another. It was all they had to keep them going for a long time. There was rarely privacy or time for sex when you were on the run for your life from an invading force that out gunned you. She placed her hands on his upper arms, sliding forward to straddle his thighs. Her need to be as close to him as possible transmitted itself to him, and he let his hands slide down her body to cup her derriere, lifting her to his lap. Her arms twined around his neck automatically. She wiggled closer, trapping his turgid cock between them as she pressed her breasts against his chest. "I've missed you, Mulder. I missed everything about you, not just the sex." She kissed his face, eyes, nose, cheeks, chin. "I missed you too, Scully. I can't believe that when I wake up, this will all be gone," he said sadly. "I've told you I will always be here. Why can't you believe me?" she groaned as his finger found their way to her clit, pinching and stroking her into a frenzy again. "It's always the same. No matter how much I dream, what I dream about, you always promise to stay and I always wake up alone," he admitted. "Well, we'll just have to see in the morning, won't we," she teased. She moved back and grasped his cock as she rose up on her knees, locking them in place to allow for their maximum pleasure. She slid it back and forth over her labia, letting the dusky juices of her earlier orgasm lubricate it. "Yeah," he grunted as she unlocked her knees and let him thrust up into her, sinking all the way down to bottom out against his balls. "Fuck!" he spat, the pleasure of her tight walls threatening to bring him off already. He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. The challenge he saw there was unmistakable. He smirked and placed his hands on her hips, lifting her slightly and changing the angle of his penetration and letting her drop. "Jesus, Mulder," she wailed as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling up as close to him as humanly possible. They began to move back and forth, up and down, rocking slowly but surely toward completion. He never took his eyes off hers, all the while whispering soft words of love, profanities and protestations of desire. His words enflamed her, and she growled, accepting the challenge. They moved together, as one until they couldn't hold back their release another second. Mulder threw back his head and howled, the ancient, guttural sounds not unlike those of the wolf as he covered his mate. Scully buried her lips against his shoulder and as her orgasm overtook her, she bared her teeth and marked this man as her mate for all time. They both lost consciousness for a few minutes, falling over on their sides. They automatically stretched out and cuddled together, even when unconscious. Scully woke for a moment, consciousness lasting only long enough for her to reach over for the pillows and the afghan to cover them. Mulder grunted and roughly pulled her back down into his arms, wrapping her tightly against him, not wanting to lose one precious moment of his dream. She knew that he didn't really believe that she was there, that he thought this all was a dream. She didn't care. She didn't want to take the time to stop and explain it all to him right now. There would be time enough to talk tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. XXXXX Mulder woke up smiling. He reached over to pull Scully into his arms and met only the cold stone of the hearth under his fingertips. He lifted his head and looked around before letting it fall in defeat back to the covers. It was a dream. He once again asked himself how many times he could live through this disappointment. How many more dreams had to happen before he decided that his pathetic life wasn't worth living with out her? He lay on his back, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall. Their burning heat finally spilling over and racing downwards to slip into his hair. "You're finally awake." He knew he was crazy now. He was even hearing her when he was awake. Perhaps he'd died in the night and hadn't realized it yet. "Mulder, look at me," her husky voice urged. He shook his head. "No, if I don't look, then I don't have to accept that you're not really here," he said stubbornly. "If you do open your eyes, you'll see that I am really here and will be here for you forever," she whispered. Her voice sounded as if she were close, mere feet away from him. "No, it's happened too many times in the past. I don't ... I can't deal with it now. I'm just going to go back to sleep and pray I can handle it when I wake up." "You, praying Mulder? Don't tell me you believe in God now," she laughed. "If you're really here, there has to be a God," he said as he let his eyes slit open enough to see her sitting in the chair at his head. "Holy Shit! Where are the Jews for Jesus when you need them?" he bellowed as he jumped to his feet and threw himself at her. Her laughter was mingled with tears as they hugged each other as tightly as possible. "Scully? Is it really you?" he gasped. "I can't believe it!" "Yes," she cried. "It's really me, Mulder." "Don't lie to me. Don't fucking kid with me. If you're a shape shifter, I'll kill you with my bare hands," he growled, squeezing her tightly. "Mulder, I can't breathe!" she laughed. "It's me," she said as she pulled his head to her breast. "Listen, that's my heart." He loosened his grasp enough to be comfortable as he let her steady heartbeat calm him. "It's you! You were Eve?" he asked. As he listened to her heart and her simple words, he realized that their hearts were beating in sync. "Yes," she said. "Why didn't you tell me who you were before?" he demanded. He pulled back to glare at her. "All this time we've wasted." "You were the one that refused to talk, if I remember correctly. Why should I give a cantankerous old man my real name?" she shot back. She let her hand drift to the white of his hair. "I didn't know it was you, Mulder. Until I could see your face and your eyes, I didn't know it was you." He studied her blue eyes for a moment and the truth sunk in. He had changed, physically, and so had she. They had expected to never see each other again, and in their grief, they had missed the clues that would have given them joy. He stood up and ripped her shirt off her, sliding her sweatpants down her legs before she could protest. He tore at his clothes and quickly stood naked before her. The morning sun was bright through the huge French doors of the library. There was no firelight to mute the scars or soften the edges of their bodies. He let his hands slide from scar to scar on her arms and hands, bring them to his lips to kiss each one. He let his damaged fingers trace over the curve of her cheek, stroking gently the long vicious scar that marred her perfect white skin. When his hands stopped he just stood there gazing at her for many long moments while she touched him. When she was done and their eyes once again met he murmured, "You have freckles." "Freckles," she sobbed. All the changes her body had gone through and all he noticed were her freckles. She nodded and said, "I've been out in the sun in the gardens and along the beach every day." "You're beautiful, Scully. Just as beautiful to me as the day you walked into my office that first day over a decade ago." "You are too, Mulder, but you're much too skinny, just like you were then. Let's go get some breakfast then we need to talk." "No, no more talking," he said adamantly. "But," she protested. "I'll eat breakfast with you, but then we're going back to my cottage where we can have the privacy we need. I don't want to share you with anyone." "All right," she said, surprising him. "Just like that? You agree with me?" he said with a smile. "I could get used to this, Scully." "Don't count on it happening forever, Mulder," she teased back. "I just don't want to let you go until I've had my fill of you, either." Her voice had lowered and she blushed as she watched his eyes dilate. "I'm sure I have something at the cottage for breakfast," he said as he stepped closer to her. She looked down at his erection and then up to smile into his eyes. "I'm sure you do but I promised that we'd join Kurt this morning. He needs to know that we're okay, Mulder. He's been a good friend to both of us." He frowned but nodded his agreement. "Breakfast, then I'm stealing you away for at least a week." "I should pack a bag before we go," she said as she began pulling her clothes back on. She noted the rip in her shirt that his haste had caused. She added, "By the way, I don't know how long we're going to be able to scavenge usable clothing, Mulder. We have to take care of what we have." "Who says you're going to be wearing clothes?" he deadpanned. XXXXX They were surprised when they walked into the dining room. Almost every house worker was present, waiting for them to arrive. Outside the doors to the patio, the balance of the clones and hybrids that made up the population of the island waited. Mulder and Scully were at a loss as to what they were to do. Kurt quickly filled them in. "Everyone is here because they want to make sure that you are happy," he said. "Just smile and wave and wish them a good day. They know I'll tell them everything later." Scully and Mulder walked out and stood on the top step of the patio. They smiled and said hello to everyone as Kurt suggested, but they seemed to be waiting for something. Mulder finally realized what they wanted. "Scully," he said. She turned to look up at him as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a passionate kiss. She tried to push him away at first, but the heat and desire of his kiss overtook her and soon she had wrapped herself around him, climbing his body, trying to get closer to his lips. Mulder broke the kiss and grinned down at her. "I think that's what they wanted," he said. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder as bright pink flushed her cheeks. "Oh, my God, Mulder, how could you do that to me in front of all of them?" He pulled her away from him enough for her to peek out at the crowd. Instead of over a hundred spectators, they were alone. "Once we began kissing, they all turned and walked away," he said with a smile. "They must have just wanted to know that we were okay together." They walked back into the breakfast room and found that everyone but Kurt was gone from there, too. "You gave them what they needed," he said. "They only want you to be happy, Dana. It was ingrained into their consciousness before they were brought here to be their main directive." "I don't think I've been this happy for years, Kurt," she said as she smiled through her tears. She hugged him fiercely. "Thank you for saving him and for giving him back his sight," she said. "You could have just followed your orders and let him stay as he was, but you didn't. I don't know why, I don't even want to have you try to explain it to me. I just want to thank you." They ate their breakfast and told Kurt of their plans to go back to Mulder's cottage for an undetermined length of time. Kurt assured them that all the supplies they needed would be delivered as unobtrusively as possible. "By the way, Mr. Mulder," Kurt said as they were preparing to leave. "Did you know that there's a legend about your cottage?" "It's haunted?" Mulder asked with a laugh. Scully rolled her eyes and waited for Kurt to continue. "No, not haunted, exactly," he explained. "It called The Enchanted Cottage. It's said that all the individuals who stay there find their soul mates and bring them back to visit there. It's just an old legend, but if you look, you'll be able to see all the names of the couples who have found happiness etched into the glass of the window in the living room. It's the one with the window seat." "How would they do that?" Scully asked. "My guess is with one of these," Kurt said. He walked over to the buffet by the wall and opened a drawer. He reached in and pulled out a handful of items and brought them back to dump on the linen table cloth. Scully gasped as the items tumbled from his hand. They were diamonds. Loose diamonds and ones mounted in every kind of setting, earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings. "I took them out of the safe when I needed a place to put some of my research for safe keeping." "Damn! In the old days they would have been worth a king's ransom and now they're just a bunch of shiny rocks," Mulder said. "Oh, they're not worthless," Kurt assured him. "We've used quite a few of them in the machinery we've invented. They are a great conducer for the power source the Enforcers left." Mulder picked up a ring and looked at speculatively. "What do you say, Scully? Will you marry me?" "Mulder," she scolded. "We've been married in spirit since the invasion, if not for years before that. I don't need a wedding ring to make a statement. You own me, heart and soul. Don't you know that?" "Yeah," he grunted. "I do, but I still want this. Now that I can see, I can't wait to look at that window and check out the entire place for any clues to the legend. This baby will be just what we need to etch our names in the window glass. That way we can be part of the legend forever." "We already are, Mulder. We already are." XXXXX EPILOGUE Kurt Crawford woke up at the clinic again. He was terrified. The only way that he could have gotten there was if he were called by one of the Enforcers. He looked up and saw the outline of the ship landing. It was not one of the huge transports, or one of the cargo ships that had been used before the aliens left the planet. It looked like it was only big enough to transport one or two people. At least he thought they had left. He stood paralyzed as the ship settled and the door opened. Instead of the hulking form of an Enforcer, a petite young woman strode down the stairs, weapon drawn. "You are our contact, Kurt Crawford?" she demanded. "Yes." "You are in charge here?" she asked. "I am the leader of the workers. Dana Scully is the leader here." Kurt refused to volunteer information about Mulder unless directly ordered to do so. As if reading his mind, she frowned and said, "What about Fox Mulder? Did he not survive the stasis pod?" "Yes, he is here too, but Ms. Scully was the individual named as my leader." "Very good," she said with a pert smile. She holstered her weapon and raised her wrist to release him from the control of the ship. Kurt slumped but remained on his feet, still fearful of her mission. "I have a message here for Scully and Mulder," she said as she reached into her side pocket and pulled out a jewel box with a DVD in it. "Where should I take it?" "I'm sorry, but Scully and Mulder are not to be disturbed after dark," he said. "I can have it delivered to them in the morning." "My orders are to give this to them immediately upon arrival. I am not to let this out of my possession at any time until then." "Then you will have to wait until morning," he said. "Those are MY orders. No one is to approach the cottage during the night hours." "That's ridiculous! I need to deliver this, get a reply, and get back to the Supreme Commander immediately!" she said, somewhat agitated. "Why don't they want to be disturbed?" Kurt looked at her incredulously. "They wish not to be interrupted during their private hours together," he said meaningfully. The young woman's brow furled as she tried to understand his words. Suddenly her widened and she blurted, "Aren't they a little old to be ... um ... needing privacy every night?" Kurt laughed at her for a moment before shaking his head and turning around to leave. "You can stay here in your ship, at the clinic, or follow me back to the main house, as you wish. Your message will be delivered in good time in the morning." He knew he took a chance at turning his back on her. She was young and her training could have left her overly prideful. He made a perfect target as he walked away from her. He was pleased and relieved to hear her trudging after him. XXXXX Scully and Mulder arrived at the main house mid-morning. After they viewed the DVD and used the hand held machine the emissary provided to record a reply, she left. According to the message, Skinner had found a way to utilize the machinery left by the aliens to refurbish some of the damaged war crafts and turn them into vehicles for commerce. Supplies would be arriving soon. Scully and Mulder were happy to see that their friend, Walter Skinner, was well and thriving in his role of Supreme Commander. His uniform was a simple black and lacked the gaudy trim that Spender had worn. They sent back the news of the machinery that the workers on the island had been able to invent, and offered to lend some of them to Skinner to assist in rebuilding the settlements that were being cut out of wastelands around the world. On a personal note, they told Walter how much they appreciated his help in bringing them together. "Scully has never been more beautiful. Everyday is paradise with her," Mulder spoke sincerely. The young pilot was stunned. When she looked at the scarred and broken bodies of the once beautiful Dana Scully and handsome Fox Mulder, she was shocked. Surely these two had had their minds altered. She was sure she would report this to the Supreme Commander along with the rest of her report. XXXXX Walter Skinner listened to the report of his emissary and watched the reply from Scully and Mulder three times before jumping to his feet and bellowing for his Assistant. He ordered a transport readied immediately, filled with supplies that had been earmarked for the island. They could deliver them and bring back the inventors and mechanics that had made so many interesting discoveries on the return trip home. From the sound of it, many of their inventions could be put to good use in every colony of survivors around the world. He marched down the hall toward the laboratory and flung the door open. He bellowed for two of the men there to get ready to go immediately. Then he stormed out, going further into the complex to the room of the one man he despised more than any other human being on earth. C.G.B. Spender was still alive, and would remain so as long as all the medical technology Skinner had at his fingertips could extend his life. This was Skinner's one vengeful secret. He refused to let this old bastard die until he suffered the maximum length of time available to him. He was bedridden, on life support, unable to breath or speak, unable to even defecate without assistance. He was fed through a tube, and bathed by individual who treated him like any other old, useless war criminal. Skinner knew that this was Spender's idea of a living hell, and he allowed himself to enjoy that thought frequently. "What the hell did you do, old man? What did you tell that Enforcer to do to Scully and Mulder? I told you I didn't want their minds wiped or tampered with in any way. I told you that they were to be treated with the utmost respect. But you didn't listen to me, did you? What did you do?" he spat as he loomed over the frail body of the once great and powerful Supreme Commander. Spender's eyes flashed to the young hybrid that was his constant companion. "He says, 'He didn't do anything to Mulder and Scully.' He says, 'He would never hurt them. He promised. Unlike you, he kept his word. They were to be together, safe and sound.'" "Then why the hell did they send me this?" Skinner spat. He held up the mini player and let Spender watch the DVD message he just received from Scully and Mulder. "If their minds weren't tampered with, why would they act like that?" Tears flooded Spenders eyes before he looked to his assistant again. "He says, 'He has no idea why they are acting that way.' He says, 'That if anyone has erred, it's got to be someone on the island.'" Skinner stared at him for a moment before spinning on his heel and walking to the door. "I'm on my way there right now. You better be telling the truth, or so help me, you will wish you never crossed me." A pitiful sound came from the bed. The young hybrid said, "He says, 'Please. Please let me die. You promised that you would kill me after Mulder and Scully were happy.'" Skinner turned back to look at Spender. For one moment, pity flashed across his features, and then the hard, implacable expression returned. "If, and I mean IF you are telling the truth, I will rescind the order to place you in stasis for healing after your next crisis. But if you've lied to me, you will live every day as long as I do, with no chance of death. Do you understand?" "He says, 'Thank you.'" Skinner snorted, then turned and left to pack for the trip on the transport. XXXXX Once more Kurt Crawford was drawn to the clinic. This time the huge outline of the transport that used to bring supplies hovered in the parking lot. Kurt was shaking with fear as he saw the squad of troops deploy around the tall, stern figure of the Supreme Commander. The rag tag group of civilians that followed him somehow made him even more uncomfortable than usual. He feared that he was going to be terminated. They had found out that he had gone beyond his orders with Mulder and his life was to be forfeited. He took a deep breath and stood taller. He had helped his Dana Scully and Mulder to live a better life by regenerating Mulder's eyes. He would die knowing that what he did was the right thing to do. The large man stood in front of him, scowling down at him. "I am Walter Skinner. Are you Kurt Crawford?" "Yes," he said. Skinner stepped forward and grasped his throat in one huge hand. Kurt knew that he had the strength and the training to squeeze the breath from his body and no one would dare put him back in the stasis pod for regeneration. "What did you do to Mulder and Scully?" he growled. "I'm ... I don't know what you mean, Sir," Kurt stammered. Skinner held up the jewel case with the DVD they had sent him and said, "I'm talking about this. This message from them. Mulder says that Scully is as beautiful as the first day he saw her. Scully accepted the compliment and let him get by with it." "Yes?" Kurt said. He was confused. What was the Supreme Commander asking? "It has to be a trick. Their minds had to be tampered with. Any fool can see that their bodies are still ravaged with scars and souvenirs of a war hard fought. You were under direct orders not to tamper with them in any way. Your orders were to revive them and let them live out their lives together. What do you have to say for yourself?" "Sir, I didn't do anything to them but," he began to explain. "But what?" Skinner growled. "Sir, Mr. Mulder was blind when he got here. I did use the stasis pod to regenerate his eyes, but other than that, there wasn't enough power left in either one of their pods to perform the procedure you're accusing me of." "What?" Skinner said, disbelievingly. "Sir, you can have your techs check. I only partially healed his eyes and nothing more. I would have liked to have been able to bring them both back to their former purity of form, but there wasn't enough energy left to do any more." Skinner released Kurt and he fell to the ground. He turned and motioned for two of the civilians to go into the clinic and check the pods for evidence of the young man's veracity. As Kurt stood up, Skinner said, "What in the hell is going on? This is not the kind of message Mulder or Scully would send. They're trained agents, warriors, and professionals. Why would they pretend to believe something so patently untrue?" As he spoke his gaze fell away from Kurt to watch something or someone in the distance. Kurt turned around and saw that Skinner was watching Scully and Mulder climb the steep shortcut path to the clinic from the beach. They stopped and waved, clearly not able to make the precipitous climb without resting. The grins of unadulterated happiness on their faces went a long way to calm Skinner's fears. "Here they come now, Sir. You can ask them yourself. But if I were to venture a guess," he offered but then hesitated to continue as two hard brown eyes glared directly into his again. "Yes?" Skinner's voice was surprisingly soft. "I would dare say that they see past the physical scars. They both are looking at one another through the eyes of love, Sir." Skinner stepped around Kurt and stopped at the edge of the parking lot. He watched as Scully and Mulder slowly made their way up the path towards him. Mulder stopped and let Scully rest for a moment under the guise of picking a daisy for her to put in her hair. Dana Scully's blue eyes gazed up at Mulder with all the sparkle and passion that they had held a decade ago. Skinner sighed. He would never have that kind of love directed at him, especially not from this woman. He shook off his momentary flash of self-pity and grinned. It was damn good to see someone in love. Two scruffy looking men joined him. They quietly assured him that the clone was telling the truth. Skinner nodded and sighed. The couple climbing the hill looked up and saw the men who had joined Skinner. Mulder's whoop of happiness sent the two techs down the path to join them. Frohike and Langly hurried to greet the friends they had only recently learned had survived the war. Skinner thought, 'Who would have thought that love could survive Armageddon?' He strode down the path to join the happy reunion with the two people he loved and respected most in the world. He didn't know when it happened, but soon he was looking beyond the scars and the disabilities to see a once again youthful and beautiful Dana Scully and her tall, handsome, pain-in-the-ass soul mate, Fox Mulder. He made a mental note to himself to release Spender. For once the old man had been telling the truth. Skinner knew it the right thing to do since he was, as Supreme Commander, a man of his word. THE END.