From: seulementmoi101@hotmail.com   
      
   TITLE:       Scars   
   AUTHORS:     Seulement Moi   
   RATING:      PG-13   
   CATS/KEYS:   XRA - X-File/Romance/Angst, M/S   
   SUMMARY:     Some things can't be duplicated.   
   SPOILERS:    Post The Truth.   
   DISCLAIMER:  Not mine. Just amusing myself with them.   
   FEEDBACK:    If you enjoyed it, let me know! I love feedback.   
                seulementmoi101@hotmail.com   
   NOTES:       Still in love with this show, with the characters   
                and with all things "spooky".   
      
      
   *~*~*~*   
      
   "That's breaking and entering".    
      
   Scully turned to the voice as she lifted her gun on one hand    
   and the stiletto on the other. She couldn't see anyone in the    
   dark.    
      
   She could make out the couch, thanks to the dim light coming    
   from the window. The soft light reflected on a piece of glass,    
   which she soon gathered to be the fish tank, now empty.   
      
   The fish had died a long time ago. Elsewhere, everything was    
   dying.   
      
   She stood still, her eyes darting in all directions, trying to    
   make out a form, a silhouette, anything that would give away    
   the person standing in the shadows.   
      
   A small movement made her turn to the other side of the couch,    
   towards the door.  Her eyes had now adjusted to the darkness    
   and she could see him.    
      
   It was Mulder.   
      
   Her body stiffened and she pointed her weapons to Mulder. "I'm    
   warning you...", she began. But she knew just then she had no    
   chance.   
      
   The aliens had been sending bounty hunters to get her. In the    
   clinic, some people volunteered to keep watch, training    
   themselves to detect aliens in different forms. They needed    
   time. Time to administer the vaccine to as many people     
   possible. The aliens knew, so Scully became 'the most wanted'.   
      
   Twelve had come so far. All in the form of Mulder. They had    
   information. Things they had shared together, lived together.     
   Information carefully gathered up by scrutinizing their X-files    
   reports. The best ones, the last two, had even recited some    
   intimate conversations held between them. Bugs and surveillance    
   cameras had provided the material for those.   
      
   Every time, Scully knew it wasn't Mulder. Even if she wanted it    
   to be him. When she, or one of the volunteers, managed to stick    
   the stiletto in the back of their necks, Scully would shudder at   
   the sight of the green goo. One question pulsed through her    
   brain: what if it was really Mulder? How could she know?    
   Sticking a stiletto on a neck would surely kill anyone, alien    
   or not.   
      
   They talked like him, looked like him and walked like him.    
   They knew things only Mulder should know. Just six months ago,    
   she had burnt every journal she had ever owned. The last one    
   being the notes she had written for Mulder when she was dying    
   of cancer.   
      
   Killing the first clones had been difficult. But it had only    
   gotten harder. Every time it was more like Mulder. Once it even    
   smelled like Mulder. Those hazel eyes had haunted her for a long    
   time. That Mulder stared straight at her as one of the volunteers   
   successfully dug the stiletto on his neck. Scully cried even after    
   the green mass had decomposed. For now she was sure. It was not    
   Mulder. She hadn't killed Mulder.   
      
   This new Mulder was number thirteen. It had been almost four months   
   since the last one.   
      
   Scully thought they had finally given up the strategy. But she   
   was wrong.   
      
   Mulder # 13 didn't move or made any attempt to grab her or run away.   
   He just stood there, staring at her. As if haunted by a vision.   
      
   His breath was quick, short. "It's me, Scully."   
      
   She sneered. Of course it's you, Mulder.   
      
   She was too far away to use her stiletto, and even if she could    
   get closer, he'd have her first. Using the gun was no option: the    
   acid in his blood could make her sick before she had a chance to   
   run.    
      
   "Really, Mulder? What are you doing here?"   
      
   "Same as you. Documents under the floor boards." He waved them at   
   her. "Isn't that what you came for?"   
      
   "How did you find me?"   
      
   "That's irrelevant, Scully. We need to move."   
      
   "Do you think this small talk will prevent me from shooting you?   
   I've done with a dozen of you. Care to be number 13?"   
      
   "We're wasting time."   
      
   "My thoughts exactly."   
      
   She aimed at him with fearless determination. There was no one    
   to help her now. She had to do it herself. If she was about to    
   die, she couldn't let him live, for he had found the files. She    
   would kill him before he killed her. Maybe someone would go looking   
   for her and they would find the files and there would be hope.    
      
   "They will have a fieldtrip with this one, Scully. Us killing    
   each other. Doing their job." He smiled sardonically and started    
   moving towards her. "Stop pointing those things at me, please."   
      
   She took a step back and tripped on exposed floorboards.  She    
   hadn't been able to survey the scene before he had come in. He    
   had already ransacked the whole place and left a nice hole in    
   the floor where their hiding place had once been.  That place    
   held the copied documents of the long lost tape they had gotten    
   from the Thinker. In Mulder's last quest for the truth, he had    
   gotten a hold of it and all the truths in it. Including the    
   project about making a perfect alien-human hybrid. Their only    
   hope for surviving the alien holocaust. How sadly ironic her    
   doom had been falling into that hole.    
      
   "Damn it." She cursed, her eyes hot with unshed tears. DAMN IT.   
       
   Of course, he couldn't miss the chance. He quickly stepped    
   towards her. In a swift motion, she had painfully freed her    
   right foot from the broken wood and taken a step backwards.    
      
   But his steps were always much longer.   
      
   He grabbed her by the arms.  She twisted in his hold, trying to    
   free herself from it. She had lost the stiletto in the fall, but    
   she still clutched her gun in her hand. She tried, unsuccessfully,    
   to point it at Mulder. She now feared she might end up shooting    
   herself in the struggle.   
      
   Not like this, she thought with a sudden impotence. What a sick    
   joke to die in the hands of Mulder. To succumb in fear under the    
   same eyes she had held onto so dearly for so long.    
      
   He repeated her name, over and over. Urging her to listen, urging   
   her to trust him.  As if casting a spell over her. It sounded so    
   like Mulder. Why wasn't it Mulder?   
      
   "No! Just shut up!", she screamed at him. The hope of ever seeing   
   Mulder again faded, giving way to a new dying wish to be fulfilled:   
   kill him before he kills you. Give Mulder a chance to live. Give    
   the world a chance to live. To William. Please survive.   
      
   As she fought her way off his grasp, her shirt lifted up slightly,   
   exposing her lower back. In that moment, he let her go.  She    
   collapsed on the floor.   
      
   She quickly composed herself and half-kneeling, held her gun    
   point-blank at his heart.   
      
   "Scully, it's really me. I'm as real as you." He spoke softly.   
      
   She glared at him in incredulity and defiance.   
      
   "You've already got what you wanted. That's as far as your luck    
   will take you tonight."   
      
   She crouched away from him slowly, searching blindly for the    
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)