From: susannastarz@hotmail.com   
      
   TITLE: Predisposition (3/?)   
   RATING: R   
   AUTHOR: Susanna Starz   
   ARCHIVE: Sure   
   EMAIL: SusannaStarz@hotmail.com   
      
   Other disclaimers and notes in Part 1   
      
   *   
      
   	"There's a black sedan that's been behind us for the last   
   twenty minutes," Mulder said, glancing in the rear view   
   mirror. "He's not being subtle about it."   
      
   	Scully turned around and peered through the rear window   
   before turning back to face him, a worried frown on her face.   
      
   	Mulder aimed their car for the nearest exit ramp, watching   
   with some concern as the black sedan cut across three lanes of   
   traffic in order to stay behind them. "That answers that question."   
   	They had started down a narrow back road, perhaps not the   
   best of choices. He looked back at Scully, unable to ignore the   
   pinched expression on her face. She offered him a weak smile when   
   she caught him staring.   
      
   	"Watch the road, Mulder."   
      
   	He obliged her, if only for the fact that he didn't want   
   their journey to end with them both wrapped around a tree. His   
   fingertips tingled, and when he glanced down at his hands on the   
   steering wheel he realized that his knuckles were turning white. He   
   forced himself to relax his grip.   
      
   	"This guy doesn't know what he's doing," Scully said,   
   turning around once more to study the car behind them. "We can lose   
   him easily."   
      
   	"I don't know," Mulder shook his head. "Isn't it more likely   
   he's making himself obvious because it doesn't matter whether we   
   notice him or not?"   
      
   	She made a face at him, and he forced himself to smile back,   
   even as his fingers found the reassuring weight of the gun at his   
   hip. "C'mon Scully, you can't tell me you never had any fantasies   
   about going down vigilante style."   
      
   	He heard her snort of suppressed laughter and felt the   
   tightness in his chest subside just a little bit. If he could still   
   make her laugh, maybe all was not lost.   
      
   	"Mulder," she said, and her voice was suddenly   
   curious. "That's the police officer from last night."   
      
   	"What?" His heart started thudding in spite of himself. "The   
   one who looked like…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, couldn't   
   utter her name.   
      
   	"No…the other one…"   
      
   	Mulder gritted his teeth and jerked the steering wheel   
   sideways, spinning the car sideways across the road. He felt   
   immediately guilty as he heard Scully's head smack against the side   
   window, but he was already climbing out of the car, gun drawn,   
   ignoring the horrified expression of a startled motorist who swung   
   wide to his left to avoid hitting him.   
      
   	"MULDER!" he ignored her, stalking purposefully towards the   
   black sedan that had pulled to a stop only a few feet behind him.   
   The young man sat behind the wheel, an "oh shit" expression on his   
   face if Mulder had ever seen one. The kid was fumbling for his gun,   
   but Mulder yanked open the car door, pulling him out by the scruff   
   of his neck.   
      
   	He heard Scully's footsteps pounding on the pavement behind   
   him.   
      
   	"What are you doing?" he hissed, shoving his gun under the   
   man`s chin.   
      
   	"What the hell does it look like?" the young officer   
   grunted. "I was tailing you."   
      
   	"Great job you were doing."   
      
   	The younger man looked more offended at the insult than he   
   was by the gun in his face. His chest puffed up with righteous   
   indignation. "I've been on the force for three goddamn months. The   
   most exciting thing they've let me do is write a parking ticket.   
   What the hell did you expect?"   
      
   	Mulder blinked, uncertain as how to respond to that. He   
   glanced over at Scully, who appeared poised to spring into action,   
   and he slowly lowered his gun.   
      
   	"You didn't take us in last night," Scully said   
   quietly. "Why?"   
      
   	"Don't even get me started," the kid replied shaking his   
   head. "Could you do me a favor and pull your car off the road? We're   
   not exactly inconspicuous."   
      
   	"Yeah, you'd know all about inconspicuous," Mulder muttered.   
      
   	"Look, I was told to follow you, that's all. I shouldn't   
   even be talking to you."   
      
   	"And yet here we are."   
      
   	"Who told you to follow us?" Scully's voice was hard, and   
      
   	"Look, just…don't go far, okay?" He was breathing hard, his   
   chest puffed out, still gamely trying to assert some authority over   
   the situation.   
      
   	Mulder was about to seize him again, shake some fear into   
   the kid, but was stopped by her gentle hand on his forearm. She   
   tethered him to reality once more.   
      
   	They already were fugitives. No need to act like it.   
      
   *   
      
   	"Christ." Miller was crouched on the familiar linoleum floor   
   of her parent's kitchen, rummaging with shaking hands through the   
   bottom cabinet. There, in the dusty reaches, she heard the   
   satisfying clink of glass on glass, and withdrew what she had been   
   looking for.   
      
   	She uncapped the bottle of vodka and took a healthy swig   
   without bothering to seek out a glass or even to stand up. The   
   liquid burned fire down her throat, but she noticed with some   
   satisfaction that her hands had stopped trembling.   
      
   	*You're not by daughter, in the biological sense, anyway*   
   her mother had said only moments ago. *But in every other way,   
   you're mine. We love you Christina, your father and I both.*   
      
   	Miller took another gulp of vodka, no longer caring that she   
   was technically on duty. Desperate times called for desperate   
   measures, and she'd certainly been hit with some information that   
   she hadn't been prepared for.   
      
   	"Christina." Her mother was standing in the doorway,   
   wringing her hands together. Her short, plump fingers were worrying   
   away, picking unconsciously at fingernails. Christina glanced down   
   at her own long, slender fingers and barked out a harsh laugh.   
      
   	"I didn't even know we still had that in the house," her   
   mother said finally, stepping forward and taking the bottle from her   
   hands..   
      
   	"I know all of daddy's hiding places," Miller said, her   
   voice threatening to turn hysterical. She forced herself to tamp   
   down her emotions, reaching up and hauling herself to her feet using   
   the counter as balance.   
      
   	"I honestly don't know why this is so upsetting--"   
      
   	Miller raised her eyebrows. Now that she was standing on her   
   own two feet and regarding the familiar surroundings from a position   
   that was not the kitchen floor, she felt much better. Much more in   
   control.   
      
   	"Upset?" She forced a smile. "Of course I'm not upset. I've   
   just discovered a latent drinking problem and thought it'd be best   
   to make up for lost time." She held out her hand for the bottle,   
   frowning when her mother instead moved to the sink and began to pour   
   the remaining liquid down the drain.   
      
   	"This brings back terrible memories, Christina."   
      
   	Miller crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "So   
   you're basically telling me that I was conceived by in vitro   
   fertilization, right? With a donor egg, or whatever?"   
      
   	"Essentially," her mother sighed. "But in reality, it was   
   far more complicated. Your father was a police officer. I was..."   
   she smiled sadly. "I was the best damn housewife anyone had ever   
   seen. But I was still just a housewife. We both wanted children so   
   badly, but we couldn't afford to undergo treatment of any kind..."   
      
   	Miller raised her eyebrows, her face beginning to feel   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)