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Part 3
 
Scully's apartment
5:30 P.M.

How had she lost control of her life? All within the 
span of twenty-four hours? 

She understood her quiescent behavior of this morning. 
She had been feeling very unsettled and shaky over the 
idiotic dream she had the night before. She hadn't 
wanted to argue with Mulder on principle when she knew, 
given the circumstances, she would have thrown principle 
to the wind herself. And she always loved seeing her 
mother so she didn't feel a great need for resentment 
over her decision to barge in instead of waiting for an 
invitation that would have been forthcoming anyway.
 
But now, due in part to this behavior, she was listening 
to stereo Mulders. Mulder and Maggie were in the living 
room discussing the case of the California coma people 
like they had been partners for years and Scully had to 
admit to being--perturbed, at the very least. And that 
fact bothered her. They were their enthusiastic selves 
and she was being a wet blanket. But, damn it, mothers 
shouldn't automatically change overnight into exuberant 
x-file chasers. And Mulder seemed to have more in common 
with Mrs. Scully than his recently indoctrinated lover. 
Scully stood in the kitchen doorway watching Mulder 
question her mother with all the gusto of a talk show 
host interviewing a hard-to-book guest. 

"And what else did the aunt have to say?" Mulder 
continued his inquisition.

"Well, I think she was a bit uncomfortable because of 
the alcoholism. You know, there is still a certain 
amount of stigma involved but we really did know each 
other quite well in the past, so she was truthful. She 
had a much younger son in the same school Dana and the 
other girls went to, so we saw each other quite a bit. 
It was a fairly small high school and we all got to know 
each other during the endless functions we were asked to 
volunteer for."

"And these women remained in California?"

"Yes, apparently they did. Spread out a bit in the state 
but they are all still in California."

"And Victoria just blurted out this purgatory thing?"

"Well, Rina--her aunt--really was a bit embarrassed by 
that. She thought it was some sort of hallucination but 
the reason she mentioned it is because Victoria came out 
of the coma a week ago and she's still hanging on to 
this story for dear life. It's not like she's thinking 
twice about it but she keeps insisting to everyone who 
visits that this is what happened to her."

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Scully said, coming from the kitchen into 
the living room and sitting on the edge of Mulder's 
chair. It was time to inject some reason into the 
proceedings.

"She's been through a lot. It is more than a possibility 
that she suffered brain damage from her past alcohol 
abuse or the coma itself. Even if she didn't, she may 
simply be using her imagination to fill in the blanks. I 
would imagine it's very disconcerting to wake up and 
find you've missed a year of your life." She frowned as 
a quick image of her own lost time flitted across her 
brain. She shook it out. "I think a delusional statement 
made by someone who has been unconscious for thirteen 
months is less of a mystery than why the other seemingly 
healthy women suddenly slipped into comas and haven't 
come out."

"Okay--then I think we should investigate that," Mulder 
said.

"Me, too," Maggie said.

Scully just stared at her mother.

"I meant, Dana--that you two should investigate, of 
course."

Scully took a small breath of relief.

"Well, I would like to know. There has to be some reason 
behind the other two comas and I would like to talk to 
Victoria. There must be an explanation for all of this."

"Good. It's settled then. I'm calling Skinner and 
arranging things."

"What about the Wilson case?" Scully reminded him.

"Ah. Well, the ghost has been haunting the same 
abandoned house for five years. I doubt it's going 
anywhere in the next week or so."

Mulder got up and went into the kitchen to use the phone 
in relative privacy.


San Diego, CA
2:45 P.M.

Agnes knew. She suspected with the first one. She knew 
with the second, and the third was finally forcing her 
into action. She picked up the telephone and dialed her 
daughter's number.

"Hi, Mom, " a cheerful voice greeted. "What's up?"

"What did I tell you about using your power?"

"You told me not to. And I haven't."

"You have. I'm not a fool. A third girl is in the 
hospital.

"And you automatically assume I had something to do with 
it."

"I know you did."

There was silence on the other end. Agnes knew her 
daughter carefully constructed her lies before they 
actually spilled out of her mouth in words.

"Why did you do it? What did you have against these 
girls?'

"It's not what I had against them, mother. It's what 
they had against me."

Agnes had heard this before. Her daughter.  Had to be 
loved by everyone and couldn't understand why someone 
might not find her as wonderful as she found herself.

"Stop it, CJ. That's all I'm telling you. You can't mess 
around with things like this. You just don't know what 
could happen."

"Don't call me CJ. And, I know enough. But I think, 
maybe, it's over for now."

Agnes leaned back against her cushion. For now. Somehow, 
her daughter's phrasing had not given her any peace of 
mind at all. There still was, however, very little she 
could do about it. Very little she was willing to do 
about it.


Dana Scully's apartment
6 PM

Scully sat back and smiled at her mother.

"You are--remarkably Mulderish today, Mom."

"Don't you mean Fox-y? I like Fox. I think I can finally 
understand his enthusiasm for some of this stuff.  Not 
that I can go out and solve any of this on my own, nor 
would I want to--but I know the two of you can do it."

Scully thought back on the day of her father's funeral. 
She had wanted reassurance that he had been proud of 
her. Perhaps, given what her mother told her just now, 
had he lived, he would have come to be. She could only 
hope that was true and celebrate the semi-momentous 
victory of her mother's whole hearted approval of her 
life's work.

"So, Dana. Just how long were you going to wait before 
you told me?"

"Told you what?"

Maggie smiled. Shit. She knew.

"You don't have to say a word, Dana. But if you think 
you're pulling the wool over my eyes, you have another 
thing coming to you, is all I want to say."

"Mom�"

"Don't Mom me. What bothers you more? The fact that I 
know or the fact that I actually approve?"

Now Scully was pissed. Not one flicker of an eyelash or 
pursing of a lip gave her away but she was definitely 
pissed. Her mother had an uncanny way of cutting through 
all the bullshit and that was not always a quality Dana 
admired. It was no secret that Maggie had not liked any 
of Dana's former lovers and while she probably had less 
reason to like Mulder than any of the men before him, 
she liked him anyway. 

Maggie got up and grabbed her coat from the dining room 
chair. 

"I have to meet Rose and I'm already a little late. 
We're going to the movies. That Mel Gibson one. I forget 
the name. You will tell me what's going on with my case, 
won't you dear? Or do I have to ask Fox?"

"Very amusing, Mom. I will keep you up to date."

She kissed her mother and with a look of sheer 
amusement, Maggie called out a cheery 'goodbye' to 
Mulder and left.

Mulder came out a few moments later.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her staring morosely at 
the closed door.

"Nothing. I don't know. Nothing. Mom knows about us."

"You told her."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I. . .don't know."

Mulder sat on the couch.

"I made arrangements for us to fly to San Diego 
Saturday. That all right with you?"

"Sure. Yes, it's fine."

"I booked us into a motel that leads right out onto the 
beach. A fringe benefit for any down time we may have.  
Unless you'd like to stay with--your family."

"Bill? Oh, he's not stationed in San Diego anymore. 
Hasn't been for a year now."

"Really?"

"Um-hmmm. He's in Hawaii." 

"And you didn't say anything to me?"

"I didn't think you wanted to keep tabs on the man, 
Mulder. He's not exactly one of your favorite people."

Mulder sat down on the arm of the couch. 

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No. Of course not. Why would I want you to leave?"

"I thought you might be feeling claustrophobic about 
now."

Scully smiled in spite of herself. 

"I was. But I'm not at the moment."

"Well, feel free to kick me out if you do."

He pushed his body over the side of the couch and sat on 
the cushions.

"Tell me about your high school days, Scully."

"What's there to tell? It was a high school. St. 
Clare's. It was a co-ed Catholic high school. The only 
one in the city, really. Catholics usually like to 
separate the sexes while they are in full hormonal 
blossom."

"That must have been--fun."

"It was, I guess. It was also awkward as hell. You know, 
those days just aren't easy, no matter how you look at 
it."

"What were you like?"

"Probably very much the way I am now. Serious. A little 
bit of a freer spirit, maybe, but still pretty serious. 
And smart. I can't say I've ever felt the need to hide 
my candle under a bushel over that gift."

"Did you have a boyfriend?"

"I had a crush."

"Did you. . ."

"No, Mulder. I was ready to but we never did. Senior 
prom we came as close as we were ever going to and 
frankly, after that fiasco, we just called it quits. Too 
damned embarrassing for both of us."

He nodded. She looked at him in puzzlement.

"You're not going to ask?"

"About the fiasco? No. I'm not. Someday--maybe, I'll 
want to hear about the past but not now."

"That's strange."

"Why? Do you want to hear about the women who shared my 
bed? Really hear about them?"

"Well. . .I don't know. I haven't given it much 
thought."

"You haven't?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. And, no, maybe I don't 
want to hear that much about them. . ."

Mulder was thoughtful but, when he spoke, he spoke with 
a strange mixture of humor and seriousness.

"I can tell you this, though. There were some women that 
were there for the sexual release. That was their sole 
purpose. If it sounds sexist, well--that's just the way 
it is. And it was mutual, so maybe it's not quite as bad 
as it sounds. There were one or two--probably the ones 
you know about--that fulfilled some idealistic crap that 
floated around in my mind. The way they destroyed those 
visions left me with pretty bad memories of the 
relationships. So--in conclusion, you don't have a lot 
to worry about, even if you do decide you want to hear 
about them."

"And you think you do?"

"Hmmmm. . .let's see--two quick examples. We have Jack. 
The talented, handsome and very dead Jack. Automatic 
sainthood bestowed no matter how awful or not awful your 
relationship may have been. And, from what little scraps 
you've given me, none of your relationships were really 
bad.  And then, the ever popular Daniel--excuse me, the 
brilliant Doctor Daniel. For whom we must all genuflect 
at the very mention of his name. No. Nothing to worry 
about there."

"Mulder. You are such a dope."

"Yes. I know that. But that still doesn't mean I want to 
hear about some other guy doing things to you that I 
waited almost too long to even try."

Now he was serious. She knew why he waited. Well, a few 
of the seemingly hundreds of reasons he waited. One of 
which was the absolute sense of awe he had over the 
depth of their feelings for each other. The depth of 
feeling he had for her. He waited for her to give him 
some sign she wanted to go in the same direction he did. 
The fact that she had traveled that road with others, 
and had reached the decision to do so faster than she 
had with him, neither escaped his notice or his concern. 
The thought that she might have felt more, at one time, 
for someone else, terrified him.

She couldn't reassure him now. She just wasn't ready to 
take that final step. The very fact that they were 
spending all of the last two nights together was a large 
enough leap in their relationship. The words themselves 
would be too terrifyingly real. He would just have to 
take her commitment on trust.

"You know, sometimes we talk way too much, Mulder," she 
told him as she sat quietly on his lap. He reached out 
and stroked her back. It was nice, loving and a cop-out. 
They both knew it.

End of Part 3