From: msnsc21@yahoo.com   
      
   ok to send to newsgroup; I will send to ephemeral and gossamer.   
   thanks!   
      
   Home Fires I   
   Part 2 of 2   
   by ML   
      
   disclaimers, etc. in Part One.   
      
   x-x-x-x   
      
   Scully met Mulder at the door with a finger to her lips.   
   "William just went down," she said.  She kept herself from   
   asking where he'd been most of the day.  He'd called her to   
   say he'd be late, but hadn't elaborated his reasons.   
      
   She appreciated the fact that Mulder did his best not to run   
   off on wild goose chases any more, but his absence that day   
   had troubled her all the same.  She'd called the Gunmen but   
   they hadn't known anything about the meeting.  Finally she'd   
   called J.D., who'd told her that Mulder had seemed very upset   
   by something Phoebe had said.   
      
   "What did she say?"  Scully asked.   
      
   After an uncomfortably long silence,  J.D. said, "He didn't   
   want me to tell you.  He wants to talk to you first."   
      
   "Then where is he?"  She couldn't help but ask.   
      
   "He said he needed some time before he talked to you.  He's   
   got his cell though, if you need to call him."   
      
   Put like that, she decided to leave it alone until Mulder   
   returned.   
      
   Now that he was here, she was reluctant to press him.  She   
   remembered how Phoebe had affected him in the past, and though   
   she knew she had nothing to worry about on a personal level,   
   she feared that Phoebe still knew how to get to Mulder.   
      
   Coupled with Mulder's earlier comment about waiting for the   
   other shoe to drop, Scully dreaded hearing what he had to   
   say.   
      
   Mulder found it hard to start the conversation, too.  He'd   
   spent much of the day thinking about the meeting, and how   
   Scully would react.  His instinct was to keep Phoebe's words   
   from her, to find a way to shield her from this until he   
   found out the truth behind it.  Old habits died hard.   
      
   But in the end, he'd realized that he had no choice but to   
   tell Scully.  She wouldn't thank him for trying to sugar-coat   
   anything, and it was too dangerous for either of them to   
   withhold information from the other.   
      
   "Phoebe's involved in some way," he said finally.  He held   
   up a case containing a disc.  "She didn't tell me much, just   
   gave me this and said she'd be in touch."   
      
   Scully licked her lips.  "Have you looked at it?"   
      
   "Not yet," Mulder said.   
      
   "Then how to you know she's involved?"   
      
   "Two words, Scully.  `Purity Control'."   
      
   He couldn't say she went pale, but her features took on the   
   appearance of marble.  It was the same expression she got   
   when she didn't want to believe but had no choice.   
      
   She sat down in the nearest chair.  Mulder sat near her,   
   turning the CD case over and over in his hands.   
      
   "So," she said after a long pause, "she could have discovered   
   some files somewhere.  She might be fishing for information.   
   Until we see what she has, I don't want to jump to conclusions."   
      
   That was his Scully, asking for proof, as he knew she would.   
   He nodded.  "I've been over and over it in my mind.  I almost   
   turned it over to the Gunmen first, but I didn't want to take   
   any chances about what's on here."   
      
   "I thought that's where you were," Scully said.  "Discussing   
   all this with them."  She did her best to keep her tone level.   
   They'd both shut each other out in the past.  It wouldn't   
   surprise her now if Mulder was doing it again, but it could   
   still hurt her.  "Mulder, I need to be a part of this.  Whatever   
   her motives are, she wants you, not me.  And I can't watch you   
   play into her hands."   
      
   "Not gonna happen, Scully.  I promise you."  Mulder looked at   
   her.  "I almost chucked the whole thing into the river.  But I   
   couldn't take the chance that she might actually know something."   
      
   "Well, let's find out then," Scully said decisively, though she   
   felt far from comfortable.   
      
   Mulder booted up the computer and Scully brought another chair   
   over to the desk.  He inserted the disk and they waited as the   
   information on the disc loaded.   
      
   The screen went black.  "Hullo again, Fox," Phoebe's voice   
   purred through the speakers, "and Agent Scully too.  I have   
   no doubt that Fox has included you in this little viewing   
   party."   
      
   At least she didn't have to see Phoebe's face and that self-   
   satisfied smirk she wore perpetually.   
      
   Mulder's hand stole into hers.  He gave her fingers a squeeze.   
      
   "That's appropriate," Phoebe went on.  "Some of this concerns   
   you as well."  The blank screen dissolved into a still photo of   
   a laboratory.  It looked like any other lab: rows of glass   
   beakers and other paraphernalia.  The background was obscured.   
      
   "This laboratory is in England, but I think you'll see some   
   similarities to places you've seen in your own country, Fox."   
      
   The picture changed to a close up of a row of test tubes with   
   some sort of viscous looking green substance in them.   
      
   "Did you ever wonder, Agent Scully, where your child came   
   from?"   
      
   The date stamp on the next picture was from the previous year,   
   about the time Mulder had been returned.  This picture was a   
   wider angle and it showed a row of empty tanks, large enough to   
   hold a full-grown human.  Mulder felt a chill at this, remembering   
   what he'd seen at the storage facility on Pandora Street.   
      
   The next picture was of a dimly-lit room.  It contained a row of   
   beds, each occupied.  Though the bodies were draped in sheets,   
   from the shape they could have been women in an advance state of   
   pregnancy.   
      
   Mulder felt Scully stiffen beside him.  Her fingers clutched at   
   his.   
      
   "Have you ever wondered, Agent Scully, if you might have other   
   children somewhere?  Fox, too, of course.  Or perhaps, his   
   sister's."   
      
   The screen faded to black, but Phoebe's voice continued.  "I   
   thought you'd like to know, Fox.  For your sake, as well as   
   Agent Scully's.  I'll be in touch."   
      
   The CD-ROM whined to a stop.   
      
   Neither spoke for a long while.   
      
   "She obviously doesn't know the truth about William's   
   conception," Mulder said finally.   
      
   "The fact that she doesn't know the truth is to our advantage,   
   I'd say.  We know where William came from, and that's what   
   counts."   
      
   "Indeed we do," Mulder smiled at her.  "But she just as   
   obviously intended you to see this, and to upset you."   
      
   Scully took a deep breath and released it slowly.  "It does   
   upset me.  My ova were stolen.  And even though by some miracle,   
   we were able to conceive William, I can't help thinking that   
   there might be others out there."  She added softly, "Like   
   Emily."  She couldn't look at Mulder, though she kept hold of   
   his hand.  Finally she said, "Do you believe her at all?"   
      
   Mulder rubbed his hand over his face.  "She hinted at a lot   
   of stuff, but she didn't really say anything.  That alone   
   could make her a relation of CGB Spender."   
      
   "I can't joke about this, Mulder," Scully said.  "We need to   
   think.  It's plain that she knows something, but where did the   
   information come from?  And why is she coming to you with it?"   
   Scully's voice rose as she spoke.  Shock gave way to anger as   
   she considered what they'd just seen.  "And, damn it, how dare   
   she bring William into it?"   
      
   "Or Samantha," Mulder added.  "I think she's playing us.  The   
   Phoebe I knew before could be cruel and manipulative, even   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)