Death of a Cigarette Smoking Man

By nutcase1013

Rating: PG-13---Very harsh words at some points.

Disclaimer: The X-Files and all of its characters are property of Fox, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Chris Carter. They are not mine, and I have no legal permission to use them. But I did anyway and look at what I wrote! Enjoy!

Chapter 1

ROCHESTER, NY

It was the perfect day for snowboarding. All of the city schools in Rochester were closed because of a big snowstorm the night before. But Taylor Harwell decided to stay inside and work on her computer in her room. She was only in tenth grade, but no one knew more about computers than her. Especially when it came to hacking. Taylor's family was rich, and she knew it. She took advantage of the wealth to buy quality hacking equipment. No one in her family knew about her hobby. Only her best friend, Jennifer, who shared the hobby, knew. So when Taylor broke into the Department of Defense this day, she knew she couldn't jump up and down screaming like she wanted to. Instead, she calmly reached for her phone and dialed Jennifer's number.

"Hello?" Jennifer answered.

"Jen, guess what?" Taylor said. "I hacked DOD!"

"So you tell me over the phone?"

"Well I had to tell someone! This is so amazing! There's information about UFO landings and sightings, and even JFK's assassination! You gotta get over here fast!"

"As long as it's faster than the government," Jennifer said. "I want to see it before they arrest you."

Taylor hung up her phone and scrolled down the screen in amazement. She typed a few words and continued to scroll down. Then the look of amazement faded to shock. She reread the screen to make sure she read it right. On her computer was a picture of an old man. Next to the picture read:

Name: C. G. B. Spender

DOB: 11/21/34

Title: Head of directors for the department of defense and project spacemen.

History: Involved in the protection of the reputation of the Government of the United States by protecting nessessary secrets for national security. Has participated in obtaining samples of human DNA, and human subjects for experimentation for the future safety of this country. Is currently in the process, and has been for the past seven years, of attempting to have Special Agent Fox W. Mulder removed from the Federal Bureau of Investigation due to Agt. Mulder's attempts to expose sensitive materials and government business to the public.

Ding dong, chimed the front door. Taylor jumped up from her desk and ran down the hall to answer it.

"So, I guess I got here before the secret government agents," Jennifer joked. "Are you still in?"

"Yeah," Taylor said, stepping aside to let Jennifer in. "And you'll never believe what I found."

The two of them went back to Taylor's room.

"You found C.G.B. Spender's file?" Jennifer asked, stunned. "How did you do that?"

"I don't even know if I could do it again," Taylor admitted. "It was an accident. But that doesn't matter. All that matters is that's the man who killed my grandfather, and I know where he lives."

"Where?"

"Down in Virginia," Taylor said. "I can get down there, but I'm going to need some help."

"Taylor, what are you going to do?" Jennifer asked nervously.

Taylor got out a piece of paper and a pen and began to write down Spender's address.

"Not what I'm going to do," she said. "What we're going to do."

"Oh, no, you're going to kill him?"

"We," Taylor corrected.

"Taylor, why not just let the cops handle it," Jennifer suggested. "You know, the people who handle things like this?"

"There's not enough evidence," Taylor said. "He'd never be convicted. He'd probably never even be arrested. Think about it. A seven-year-old murder that never had any leads, and suddenly a sixteen-year-old from Rochester, New York knows who committed that murder in Maryland seven years before. Would you take me seriously?"

"No," Jennifer shrugged. "But I never take you seriously."

"Now's the time to start." Taylor shut off the computer and walked down the hall to her parent's room. She walked directly to the dresser and opened the top drawer. After moving a few things around, she pulled out a handgun and closed the drawer.

"Taylor, how are you even planning on getting down to Virginia with that?"

"I'm going to drive," Taylor replied. She started out of the room.

"But you only have a permit!"

"That doesn't matter if I don't get pulled over," she said walking back into her room.

"Won't your dad notice it's missing?"

"If he notices his gun's missing, then maybe he'll notice I'm missing for a change," Taylor said. She emptied out her school bag and started putting shirts and jeans in it. "It'll take at least a half a week for one of them to notice I'm gone."

"Won't they hear you leave?"

"They won't hear us leave because they just left," Taylor said. "I heard them pull out about two minutes before you got here."

"So I take it I'm going," Jennifer guessed.

"You're a genius," Taylor said sarcastically.

"Can I at least tell my mom?"

"No, how much money do you have with you?"

"I don't know, about fifty I guess."

Taylor went into her parent's room and pulled some money out of a box on top of a dresser.

"Now we have five hundred and fifty," Taylor told Jennifer. "Let's go."

"Taylor, I really don't want to go all the way down to Virginia to kill some old guy who's probably going to die in a year, anyway," Jennifer said. "And have you even considered that we might get caught?"

"I don't care," Taylor said. "An eye for an eye. He killed my grandfather, so I'm going to kill him."

"But that's illegal!"

"Naw! I didn't know that! Thanks for telling me. I'm going to do it anyway."

Taylor picked up her bag and walked out of her room. Jennifer hesitated and then reluctantly followed.

Chapter 2

FBI HEADQUARTERS

WASHINGTON, D.C.

THREE DAYS LATER

Special Agent Fox Mulder walked into his office at 6:00PM because of a phone call he received from his partner. His partner, Special Agent Dana Scully, was already there, reading over a fax on the desk.

"Evening, Scully," Mulder greeted the redhead.

"Good Evening, Mulder," Scully said. "This fax was in the machine when I came in. It's from someone named Jennifer. She didn't give her last name. She says that her best friend is somewhere in Virginia, looking for C.G.B. Spender."

"Does she say why?" Mulder asked, intrigued.

"Her friend's name is Taylor Harwell," Scully continued. "She's the granddaughter of your old informant, Deep Throat."

"It says that?" Mulder asked.

Scully nodded. "It also says that Taylor took her father's gun before they left."

"They?"

"Apparently Jennifer started out with Taylor, but decided to sneak away and do something to prevent Taylor's plan."

"Which is?"

"She's got his address, Mulder," Scully said. "And a gun. She's going to kill him."

"Is there a description of her in there?"

"Better," Scully said. She turned the paper so Mulder could see. "She sent us a picture and the address of the place where she's headed."

"Why should we stop this?" Mulder asked. Scully gave him a puzzled look. "Why? When you take into consideration all of the things he's done, this seems justified, doesn't it?"

"Mulder, a sixteen year old girl is planning to commit murder, and is ready to go through with it," Scully said. "Doesn't that seem wrong to you? If she goes through with it, which she most likely will, she'll probably get caught and go to prison. Do you think a sixteen year old should go to prison, no matter how justified the crime?"

"All right, Scully," Mulder gave in. "You're right. But how do we know she hasn't already gone through with it. She has his address; she's prepared to kill him. Why would she hesitate?"

"They came from Rochester New York. They got lost in Pennsylvania, which is where Jennifer ditched Taylor. Jennifer estimates Taylor will get to C.G.B. Spender's residence about seven or eight tonight."

"It's 6:15 now," Mulder said. "If we're going to prevent this, we better get going."

Rock music, specifically Aliens Exist by Blink-182, was abruptly cut off as Taylor cut the ignition to the car. Dusk was just setting in at 6:30PM. Taylor sighed and looked at the handgun on the seat next to her. She hesitated, then picked it up and got out of the car. She looked up at the tall building, then walked to the intercom on the front steps. She looked through the numbers until she found the one she was looking for, and pressed the button.

"Yes?" A voice said from the speaker.

"Mr. Spender?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," the voice said. "Can I help you?"

"Federal Express," Taylor said. "I have a package for you. I need you to buzz me in so you can sign for it."

"I'll come down."

"Well, it's pretty heavy," Taylor lied. "I'd feel better knowing you're not going to hurt your back or anything."

"All right." The buzz sounded, and Taylor pushed open the door. She looked around the lobby for a few seconds and spotted the elevator bank.

Knock knock. The door opened almost immediately.

"Where's the package?" the elderly man asked. He was identical to the picture of Spender.

Taylor pulled out the gun. "Here's your package, you bastard," she said. "Go back in."

Spender complied and backed in. Taylor went in right after him and slammed the door shut. She steadily held the gun on him.

"Whatever you want, money, valuables, they're yours," he said. "Just don't kill me."

"Don't kill you?" Taylor asked. She was quite upset now. "Don't kill you? How many people have asked that of you? How many people said that to you as their last words?"

"What are you talking about?" Spender asked, politely smiling. "You must have me confused with someone else."

"Bullshit," Taylor stated. "I know who you are. Tonight, you're finally going to pay for all the lives you've taken, and the one's you've ruined. Including my grandfather."

"Grandfather?" He had a puzzled look on his face.

"You know," Taylor said. "The guy who you had killed in the middle of the street!" Now she was yelling. "He wasn't doing shit to you! If you had just left him alone, you wouldn't be in this situation right now, but you had to kill him! He was my only fucking family!"

Taylor began to pull the trigger when a bang on the door startled them both. Another bang, and the door flew inward. Mulder and Scully, guns in hands, charged in. Taylor swung the gun in their direction. Assessing the situation, the agents trained their guns on Taylor.

"FBI! Put the gun down!" Mulder and Scully shouted at the same time.

"What the hell!" Taylor screamed. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"You're going to commit murder," Scully said. "It has everything to do with us."

"You can shoot him and we arrest you, or you put down the gun and we forget this ever happened," Mulder coaxed. "Just put it down."

"You have no idea what he's done!" Taylor yelled. "How many people he's killed. Or how many families he's wrecked. He deserves what's coming to him!"

"That may be," Mulder said. "But that doesn't give you the right to kill him."

"Let the law handle it," Scully said.

"There's no evidence," Taylor said, more calmly. "He'd never be convicted. Probably not even arrested."

Taylor began slowly backing toward the bedroom. The door was wide open, exposing a wide-open window, with a fire escape right outside.

"Taylor, right?" Mulder asked.

"How the hell do you know my name?" Taylor asked.

"Taylor, is killing this man really worth ruining your life?" Mulder continued. The whole time Taylor was backing toward the bedroom, and Mulder and Scully were easing forward.

"He's right," Scully agreed. "We're right here. If you shoot him, we'll see it, and there'll be no way of getting out of it. You'll get life imprisonment."

Taylor shook her head. By now she had reached the doorway. She still held the gun. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two agents, and she began to realise the seriousness of the situation. Her hands began to shake.

"Taylor, give me the gun," Mulder said. He extended a hand. "Give me the gun and we can all go home."

"In your dreams, fuck rag," Taylor muttered. She reached back and flung the door shut and locked it. She tucked the gun in her pants and sprinted for the window. She looked out, and didn't see the fire escape. She looked down and saw it on the floor below. She looked back and noticed that the door wouldn't hold much longer with the feds trying to knock it down.

"Here goes nothing," Taylor said aloud. She grabbed the windowsill and pushed herself out just as the door came down. She landed on the fire escape.

"Shit!" Taylor yelled. "Oh shit, my leg." He right leg was twisted in an awkward position underneath her. "Oh, shit!"

Back in the apartment, Mulder and Scully ran from the window to the front door.

"I want to thank you for saving my life," Spender began.

"You're lucky I’m on duty or I'd shoot you myself," Scully said on the way out.

Taylor pulled herself up using the railing. She pulled the gun out and threw it up. It landed on the roof of the adjacent building. Taylor pulled herself to the ladder and climbed down. She carefully set her left foot down first, then limped to the street. She turned the corner to go to her car, and ran right into Mulder. Literally, right into Mulder. She immediately turned away, but Mulder grabbed Taylor by the arms and held tight.

"Let go!" she screamed, and continued struggling.

"Where's the gun?" Scully asked.

"I don't know," Taylor answered. "I threw it."

"We better get that leg looked at," Mulder said. He began to steer Taylor to his car. Taylor resisted.

"My leg's fine," she insisted.

"Not from the way I saw it," Scully said. "And judging from the way you're limping, it's at least sprained."

"It's fine!" Taylor said again.

"Okay, okay," Mulder said. "Why don't you just come over to the car and have a seat for a few minutes."

"I have my own car," Taylor said. "And I'm going to drive home in it now."

"No, right now you're going to stay with us," Mulder said. "Come on, just sit in the car for a little while. Let my partner look at your leg."

"Why should I?"

"I'm a doctor," Scully said. "If it's seriously injured we'll take you to the hospital and get it all fixed up. If it's really fine like you say, you can go."

"Really?" Taylor asked. "You'll let me go home?"

Scully nodded. Taylor reluctantly hobbled over to Mulder's car. Mulder opened the back door and Taylor sat in the seat.

Scully prodded Taylor's leg. "Tell me when it hurts, okay?" Taylor nodded.

Suddenly she screamed. "Shit! Oh, right there! Ow!"

"Well, you've dislocated your knee," Scully said.

"Oh, well that's nothing serious," Taylor said, beginning to stand up. "Bye!"

"You're not going anywhere but the hospital," Scully said. "It's got to be set."

Taylor sat back down in the car and Scully shut the door.

Chapter 3

Alexandria General Hospital

8:07PM

Mulder and Scully sat in the waiting room as Taylor was getting her leg x-rayed. The outlook was good. She probably wouldn't need crutches, but the doctor wanted to make sure that was the case.

"So what are we going to do?" Scully asked. "Take her to a motel?"

"Why would we do that?" Mulder asked.

"She just tried to kill C.G.B. Spender," Scully said. "We both know what this man is capable of, Mulder. She's not going to last an hour by herself."

Mulder thought for a few seconds. "You're right, Scully. We know what he's capable of. And the first thing he's going to do is check every motel within fifty miles of here."

"Well what do you suggest?"

"I think I know just the place for her to stay," Mulder said.

"How's your knee feeling?" Dr. Wright asked Taylor.

"It's okay," Taylor said. She swung her leg back and forth to test it out. She hopped down from the table in the small room. "Can I go now?"

"Well, everything seems to be good," Dr. Wright said. "I don't see why not. Go on out to the waiting room. I'll be right out."

"Okay." Taylor opened the door and closed it behind her. She looked down the hall toward the waiting room, then in the other direction toward the exit doors to the parking lot. The coast was clear. She could sneak out right then. She knew how to hot-wire cars from auto mechanics class. She could be out of the state in less than an hour. Not much could go wrong. Nothing that Taylor couldn't handle, anyway.

She walked quickly to the doors and went outside. Now she needed a car. Taylor scanned the parking lot. She didn't have a lot of time, and there were only two cars in this part of the lot. The federal agent's car, and an old, rusty car that looked like it wouldn't get much farther than two blocks. Barely stopping to think, Taylor calmly strode to the silver Ford. Knowing that it wasn't locked, she opened the driver's side door, and proceeded with the hot-wiring process.

Meanwhile. . .

"Are you the FBI agents who brought in Taylor Harwell?" Dr. Wright asked Mulder and Scully as he stepped into the waiting room.

"Yes," Mulder said and he and Scully stood up. "How's she doing?"

"She's fine," he answered. "There's going to be no long term damage. The knee might be a little sore for a day or two, but it's nothing a little aspirin can't help."

"Great," Mulder replied. "Where is she?"

Confusion crossed Dr. Wright's face. "She didn't come out here?"

"No," Scully said. "She's not in the examination room?"

"No, I sent her back out here."

"Scully," Mulder said. "I left the car unlocked." He jogged to the exit Taylor went out of and looked out. Even from the doors, he could make out a figure in his car. Scully joined Mulder at the doors and followed his gaze.

"What's she doing?" Scully asked.

"Trying to hot-wire my car," Mulder replied nonchalantly. He pushed open the door and ran over to the car. Taylor was so involved with what she was doing that she didn't notice him approaching. Mulder reached the car and knocked on the window. Taylor shrieked, and jumped up out of the seat. Mulder opened the door and pulled Taylor out by the arm.

"You know, that's not such a good idea," Mulder said, keeping a firm grip. "Hot-wiring a federal agent's car. That could get you into trouble."

"Hot-wiring?" Taylor asked innocently. "Is that what you think I was doing? Wow, you are way off. I was making sure your brake pedal was good. It's a nasty problem in these Ford models. The pedal sinks down and then you have no brakes. So I was just making sure yours were good."

Mulder opened the back door for Taylor. "Nice try," Mulder said. "I'm impressed."

Taylor got in the car and Mulder shut the door.

"Do you believe this kid, Scully?" he asked.

"I have to admit, at sixteen, I would never have been able to come up with a story like that," Scully said. "She's good."

Somewhere in Maryland. ETA to unknown location: 10 minutes.

"This isn't even close to where I left my car," Taylor said from the backseat.

"We're not going back to your car," Mulder said.

"Then where are we going?" Taylor asked. "And when am I going to get back to my car?"

"Where are we going, Mulder?" Scully asked. "You still haven't told me."

"Conspirators of the world, unite!" Mulder mumbled.

"Mulder, no," Scully said. "Please, it's late. I don't think I could handle them right now."

"Where are we going?" Taylor repeated.

"We're going to visit some friends of mine," Mulder said. "You'll be safe there."

"Safe from what?" Taylor asked. "Ghosts and goblins?"

"Do you have any idea who you tried to kill today?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, the guy who had my grandfather killed."

"Who also has basically the entire government at his disposal," Mulder added. "He's going to try to kill you the first chance he gets. This is just a temporary arrangement until we can get you safely back home."

"What about my car?" Taylor asked.

"It'll be towed by tomorrow morning," Scully said. "You parked in front of a fire hydrant."

The car slowed, and stopped in front of a three story brick building. As soon as it stopped moving, Taylor flung open the back door and took off running the way they had come.

"Why?" Mulder asked. "Why, why, why?" He opened his door and ran out after her, followed by Scully.

"Taylor!" Scully yelled.

"Taylor, stop!" Mulder yelled.

Inside the offices of the Lone Gunmen, Frohike looked out the peephole in the front door. There had been some shouting right after a car pulled up near the building.

"What's going on?" Langly, a tall man with long blond hair and glasses, asked.

"I'm not sure," Frohike, a short balding guy, replied. "It looks like Mulder and Scully. It is! But there's someone else with them. She ran from the car when they stopped." There was a brief pause. "They got her. Now they're coming up to the door."

"Should we let them in?" Langly asked. "They've got an unidentified person with them."

"I don't think she's going to do much damage, Langly," Frohike said. "She's just a kid."

Langly looked up at a small monitor mounted above the door as the trio came into view. The doorbell rang. Langly pushed a button on an intercom and spoke into it.

"Whose that with you?"

"Langly, open the door," Mulder said. "I'll explain inside."

Langly hesitated. "All right." He and Frohike undid all of the locks on the door that went from floor to ceiling. Frohike pulled open the door and Mulder, Scully and Taylor walked in. Frohike and Langly immediately shut the door and redid all the locks.

"This is Taylor Harwell," Mulder explained. "She ran away from home a few days ago, and just tried to kill C.G.B. Spender about two and a half hours ago."

"Wait a minute," Langly said. "You're Taylor Harwell?"

"Yeah, so?" Taylor asked.

"Harwell Computers," Langly said, apparently to no one. "Her parents own Harwell Computers. It's a software company."

"So?" Taylor asked again. "What's the big deal?"

"Is it really true that you help your dad design some of the computer games?" Frohike asked in awe.

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"Wow!" Langly said.

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.

Somewhere down the hall a door opened and closed. Byers, a clean-cut man with a beard, always wearing a suit, came out to the main room.

"What's going on?" Byers asked. "Who's this?"

"Taylor Harwell," Frohike informed Byers. "You know, Harwell Computers?"

"You're Taylor Harwell?" Byers asked in shock.

"Yes!" Taylor said, annoyed. "I am Taylor Harwell! What is the big deal?"

"You're parents own Harwell Computers?" Byers asked.

"If I have to answer that question-"

"Uh, she needs to stay here for a day or two," Mulder interrupted. "She tried to kill the smoking man."

"Sure, Mulder, as long as she needs to," Byers said.

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a dull spoon," Taylor muttered to herself.

"Will Agent Scully be joining us?" Frohike asked. "After all, we're hardly qualified to actually protect someone against the forces of evil."

Scully shot Mulder a don't-even-think-about-it look. "No, I'll be here, Frohike," Mulder said. "Scully is going to go back to the office and contact Taylor's parents. She's been missing for four days, and they're probably worried about her."

"I'd better get going," Scully said. "Keys, Mulder?"

Mulder tossed her the keys, and Scully walked back to the door, which was locked. Frohike, realising the situation, hurried over to the door to unlock it.

"Here, let me get that," Frohike volunteered. "Those locks can be kind of hard."

Scully left, and Frohike locked the door back up.

"How long do I have to stay here?" Taylor inquired.

"Just for a day or two," Mulder said. "You have to keep a low profile and hope this blows over."

"Hope what blows over?"

"Taylor," Mulder said calmly. "Calm down. Have a seat." Mulder indicated the couch. Taylor reluctantly sat down and Mulder took the chair on the other side of the coffee table. The Lone gunmen gathered around one of the computers on the table across the room and pretended not to pay attention, but did.

"I want to hear your side of this," Mulder said. "And I want to hear the truth."

"Of what?"

"Why you tried to kill C.G.B. Spender today," Mulder said. "Why you risked spending the rest of your life in prison to kill the scum of the earth."

Taylor leaned back on the couch. "Bob Harwell, the man you know as Deep Throat, was my grandfather," Taylor began. "Until, of course, he was killed. Before that, he had the whole family thinking he was an avid salesman, always travelling around the country. But, then he was shot. He was my closest relative. My parents pretty much ignore me, so it was like I lost my only family. I became obsessed, trying to find out who was behind it. I knew that whoever actually pulled the trigger wasn't the actual murderer, that there was a deeper conspiracy."

"How did you find out it was Spender?" Mulder asked.

"By accident," Taylor replied. "I was, um, hacking DOD. I don't know what I did, I just hit a button, and his picture came up with his history. It said right in it that he had had my grandfather killed. His address was listed right there, so I grabbed my dad's gun and drove down here."

Mulder sighed. "Do you have any idea of what this man is capable of?" Mulder asked.

"Do I care?"

"This man is a lot higher in the chain of command than you think," Mulder explained. "He has practically the entire government at his disposal. All he has to do is make one phone call, and you're on the FBI's most wanted list. If you're going to kill him, you've got to get it right the first time, or he'll come back and bite you in the ass!"

Taylor made a disgusted face. "That is so disgusting! That would hurt, too."

"Taylor, you know what I mean," Mulder said. "He doesn't have to do much to get what he wants."

Taylor stared at Mulder with nothing to say. The Lone Gunmen exchanged knowing glances.

Scully tossed the keys onto the desk and picked up the fax that had come earlier. As she scanned it, she realised that Taylor's home phone number was not listed. Scully sighed, picked up the phone on the desk, and dialed Mulder's cell phone.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, I don't have Taylor's phone number," Scully said.

"It's not in the fax?"

"No, Scully replied. "It's about the only thing about her not in here."

"What's your phone number?" Mulder asked Taylor. There was a brief silence. "716-555-1013," Mulder repeated to Scully.

"Thanks," Scully said. She hung up the phone, then dialed the number Mulder gave her.

"Hello?" It was a woman, and she sounded very stressed.

"Mrs. Harwell?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," Scully said. "I want to let you know that your daughter is okay."

"Oh, thank God!" Mrs. Harwell sounded relieved. "Where is she?"

"She's in Virginia in mine and my partner's custody."

"Why? Has she done something?"

"I'd rather not talk about it over the phone," Scully said. "We can be on a flight to Rochester in two days—"

"Two days!" Taylor's mother exclaimed. "She's already been missing for two days! Now you want me to wait two more?"

"Due to the circumstances of Taylor's situation, my partner and I feel it is safer to wait," Scully explained. "It's the best we can do."

"I'm sorry. I've been under so much stress, and I miss my daughter. I appreciate what you're doing, just keep Taylor safe."

Somewhere in Maryland. ETA to unknown location: 10 minutes.

"This isn't even close to where I left my car," Taylor said from the backseat.

"We're not going back to your car," Mulder said.

"Then where are we going?" Taylor asked. "And when am I going to get back to my car?"

"Where are we going, Mulder?" Scully asked. "You still haven't told me."

"Conspirators of the world, unite!" Mulder mumbled.

"Mulder, no," Scully said. "Please, it's late. I don't think I could handle them right now."

"Where are we going?" Taylor repeated.

"We're going to visit some friends of mine," Mulder said. "You'll be safe there."

"Safe from what?" Taylor asked. "Ghosts and goblins?"

"Do you have any idea who you tried to kill today?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, the guy who had my grandfather killed."

"Who also has basically the entire government at his disposal," Mulder added. "He's going to try to kill you the first chance he gets. This is just a temporary arrangement until we can get you safely back home."

"What about my car?" Taylor asked.

"It'll be towed by tomorrow morning," Scully said. "You parked in front of a fire hydrant."

The car slowed, and stopped in front of a three story brick building. As soon as it stopped moving, Taylor flung open the back door and took off running the way they had come.

"Why?" Mulder asked. "Why, why, why?" He opened his door and ran out after her, followed by Scully.

"Taylor!" Scully yelled.

"Taylor, stop!" Mulder yelled.

Inside the offices of the Lone Gunmen, Frohike looked out the peephole in the front door. There had been some shouting right after a car pulled up near the building.

"What's going on?" Langly, a tall man with long blond hair and glasses, asked.

"I'm not sure," Frohike, a short balding guy, replied. "It looks like Mulder and Scully. It is! But there's someone else with them. She ran from the car when they stopped." There was a brief pause. "They got her. Now they're coming up to the door."

"Should we let them in?" Langly asked. "They've got an unidentified person with them."

"I don't think she's going to do much damage, Langly," Frohike said. "She's just a kid."

Langly looked up at a small monitor mounted above the door as the trio came into view. The doorbell rang. Langly pushed a button on an intercom and spoke into it.

"Whose that with you?"

"Langly, open the door," Mulder said. "I'll explain inside."

Langly hesitated. "All right." He and Frohike undid all of the locks on the door that went from floor to ceiling. Frohike pulled open the door and Mulder, Scully and Taylor walked in. Frohike and Langly immediately shut the door and redid all the locks.

"This is Taylor Harwell," Mulder explained. "She ran away from home a few days ago, and just tried to kill C.G.B. Spender about two and a half hours ago."

"Wait a minute," Langly said. "You're Taylor Harwell?"

"Yeah, so?" Taylor asked.

"Harwell Computers," Langly said, apparently to no one. "Her parents own Harwell Computers. It's a software company."

"So?" Taylor asked again. "What's the big deal?"

"Is it really true that you help your dad design some of the computer games?" Frohike asked in awe.

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"Wow!" Langly said.

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.

Somewhere down the hall a door opened and closed. Byers, a clean-cut man with a beard, always wearing a suit, came out to the main room.

"What's going on?" Byers asked. "Who's this?"

"Taylor Harwell," Frohike informed Byers. "You know, Harwell Computers?"

"You're Taylor Harwell?" Byers asked in shock.

"Yes!" Taylor said, annoyed. "I am Taylor Harwell! What is the big deal?"

"You're parents own Harwell Computers?" Byers asked.

"If I have to answer that question-"

"Uh, she needs to stay here for a day or two," Mulder interrupted. "She tried to kill the smoking man."

"Sure, Mulder, as long as she needs to," Byers said.

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a dull spoon," Taylor muttered to herself.

"Will Agent Scully be joining us?" Frohike asked. "After all, we're hardly qualified to actually protect someone against the forces of evil."

Scully shot Mulder a don't-even-think-about-it look. "No, I'll be here, Frohike," Mulder said. "Scully is going to go back to the office and contact Taylor's parents. She's been missing for four days, and they're probably worried about her."

"I'd better get going," Scully said. "Keys, Mulder?"

Mulder tossed her the keys, and Scully walked back to the door, which was locked. Frohike, realising the situation, hurried over to the door to unlock it.

"Here, let me get that," Frohike volunteered. "Those locks can be kind of hard."

Scully left, and Frohike locked the door back up.

"How long do I have to stay here?" Taylor inquired.

"Just for a day or two," Mulder said. "You have to keep a low profile and hope this blows over."

"Hope what blows over?"

"Taylor," Mulder said calmly. "Calm down. Have a seat." Mulder indicated the couch. Taylor reluctantly sat down and Mulder took the chair on the other side of the coffee table. The Lone gunmen gathered around one of the computers on the table across the room and pretended not to pay attention, but did.

"I want to hear your side of this," Mulder said. "And I want to hear the truth."

"Of what?"

"Why you tried to kill C.G.B. Spender today," Mulder said. "Why you risked spending the rest of your life in prison to kill the scum of the earth."

Taylor leaned back on the couch. "Bob Harwell, the man you know as Deep Throat, was my grandfather," Taylor began. "Until, of course, he was killed. Before that, he had the whole family thinking he was an avid salesman, always travelling around the country. But, then he was shot. He was my closest relative. My parents pretty much ignore me, so it was like I lost my only family. I became obsessed, trying to find out who was behind it. I knew that whoever actually pulled the trigger wasn't the actual murderer, that there was a deeper conspiracy."

"How did you find out it was Spender?" Mulder asked.

"By accident," Taylor replied. "I was, um, hacking DOD. I don't know what I did, I just hit a button, and his picture came up with his history. It said right in it that he had had my grandfather killed. His address was listed right there, so I grabbed my dad's gun and drove down here."

Mulder sighed. "Do you have any idea of what this man is capable of?" Mulder asked.

"Do I care?"

"This man is a lot higher in the chain of command than you think," Mulder explained. "He has practically the entire government at his disposal. All he has to do is make one phone call, and you're on the FBI's most wanted list. If you're going to kill him, you've got to get it right the first time, or he'll come back and bite you in the ass!"

Taylor made a disgusted face. "That is so disgusting! That would hurt, too."

"Taylor, you know what I mean," Mulder said. "He doesn't have to do much to get what he wants."

Taylor stared at Mulder with nothing to say. The Lone Gunmen exchanged knowing glances.

Scully tossed the keys onto the desk and picked up the fax that had come earlier. As she scanned it, she realised that Taylor's home phone number was not listed. Scully sighed, picked up the phone on the desk, and dialed Mulder's cell phone.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, I don't have Taylor's phone number," Scully said.

"It's not in the fax?"

"No, Scully replied. "It's about the only thing about her not in here."

"What's your phone number?" Mulder asked Taylor. There was a brief silence. "716-555-1013," Mulder repeated to Scully.

"Thanks," Scully said. She hung up the phone, then dialed the number Mulder gave her.

"Hello?" It was a woman, and she sounded very stressed.

"Mrs. Harwell?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," Scully said. "I want to let you know that your daughter is okay."

"Oh, thank God!" Mrs. Harwell sounded relieved. "Where is she?"

"She's in Virginia in mine and my partner's custody."

"Why? Has she done something?"

"I'd rather not talk about it over the phone," Scully said. "We can be on a flight to Rochester in two days—"

"Two days!" Taylor's mother exclaimed. "She's already been missing for two days! Now you want me to wait two more?"

"Due to the circumstances of Taylor's situation, my partner and I feel it is safer to wait," Scully explained. "It's the best we can do."

"I'm sorry. I've been under so much stress, and I miss my daughter. I appreciate what you're doing, just keep Taylor safe."

Chapter 3

"He is not!" Taylor yelled across the room.

"Yes he is!" Frohike yelled back. "Just look at his clothes!" He ducked behind the table cluttered with computer parts to avoid the magazine Taylor threw at him. "And the way he dances!" He ducked again, just in time to avoid another magazine flying at his head. Byers and Langly watched from a safe distance in the doorway, amused.

"Ricky Martin is not gay!" Taylor yelled.

"Oh yes he is!" Frohike replied.

Taylor looked around the floor near her feet and found a shoe. She picked it up, and was about to throw it at him, when, seemingly out of nowhere, Mulder grabbed the shoe from her.

"I leave for ten minutes, and the whole place falls apart! What is going on?"

"He keeps saying Ricky Martin is gay—"

"Which he is," Frohike interrupted Taylor.

Taylor reached for the shoe, which Mulder had put down on the coffee table.

"Taylor," Mulder said. "Before we resort to violence, let's hear both sides, okay?"

"Both sides of what?" Frohike asked "He's gay, and that's all there is to it."

Taylor turned to Mulder. "I'm not staying here," she said. "I'm not."

"Frohike, lay off the Ricky Martin thing," Mulder said. "And Taylor, stop throwing stuff."

"I wouldn't have thrown anything if he hadn't kept dissing Ricky," Taylor said.

"Well I wouldn't have said anything if he wasn't gay," Frohike said.

Taylor started walking toward the door. "Goodbye," she said.

Mulder caught her by the arm. "Will both of you stop it?" he asked. "Taylor, you're sixteen. You can undoubtedly ignore him. And Frohike—well, I'm not exactly sure how old you are, but you should know better. Especially when shoes are flying through the air. Now, what do you two have to say?" No one said anything. "Well?"

"I'm sorry for saying Ricky Martin is gay," Frohike mumbled as he hung his head. "It was a blatant lie, and, at forty-six years old, I should know better."

"Taylor?" Mulder prompted.

"I'm sorry for trying to throw a shoe at you," Taylor mumbled a reply. "I wasn't trying to act like a two year old, it just happened."

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Mulder asked.

Before anyone could answer, the doorbell rang, and Langly, knowing it was now safe, crossed the room to answer it.

"I'll get it," he volunteered, trying to hide a snicker.

Taylor sat down on the couch, and Frohike went to the door to help Langly with the locks. Byers walked into the room, sat in a chair, and turned on the TV.

"Agent Scully!" Frohike greeted the agent. "You're back! It sure took a long time to contact Taylor's parents, eh?"

Langly punched him in the arm. "She hasn't even been gone an hour, dip shit."

"Oh," Frohike said. He turned and walked away. "It seemed more like six," he muttered.

Scully smiled politely, a little embarrassed, and stepped inside.

"You got here just in time," Langly said as he closed the door.

"Why?" Scully asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Taylor and Frohike are basically trying to kill each other," Langly explained as he re-locked the door. "Mulder's got it under control for the moment, but he could use the reinforcement."

Langly barely finished the sentence when Scully quickly moved to the main room and looked around. Mulder and Byers sat in chairs, and Taylor and Frohike sat on opposite ends of the couch, obviously not happy. The TV was turned on to Harsh Realm.

"How long do we have to sit here?" Taylor asked.

"Until you both apologise to each other," Mulder answered. "And mean it."

"I'm not apologising to her," Frohike said.

"There's no way in hell I'm apologizing to him," Taylor added.

"Fine," Mulder said without looking away from the TV. "You two can sit there all night. If you want to act like children, you can be treated like children."

"This isn't fair," Taylor said. "It's cruel and unusual punishment. You can't do this."

"Mulder," Scully said. Mulder turned around in his chair.

"Oh, hi, Scully," Mulder greeted.

Scully looked confused as she set the black backpack she brought in on the floor. "What is going on?"

Mulder stood up and the moved to the back of the room away from Taylor, Frohike, and Byers. Langly came back into the room and took Mulder's seat.

"What did her parents say?"

"Not much," Scully began. "I only talked to her mother. She seemed genuinely concerned, but there were a few oddities."

"Such as?"

"She said that Taylor has been missing two days," Scully elaborated. "She's been gone four. Also, there was no mention of Mr. Harwell. I would think that she would be ecstatic, yelling for him, but the biggest reaction I got out of her was when I told her we had found Taylor. But that was just a sense of relief. Then she protested our maintaining custody of Taylor for another two days."

Taylor turned around in the couch. "See?" she said. "I told you they never pay attention to me!"

"Watch TV," Mulder said. Taylor sighed and turned back around.

"Mulder, what's going on?" Scully asked.

"Scully, have you ever seen a 46 year old and a sixteen year old fight like two year olds?"

"No," Scully hesitated. "Why?"

"It started when Frohike called Ricky Martin gay," Mulder explained. "Taylor began throwing things, and I intervened just before she threw a shoe. Just now, while you were at the door, Frohike stood directly in front of the TV. Taylor didn't like that, so she stood on the couch and jumped, but luckily I caught her before she landed on Frohike."

Scully didn't say anything for a few seconds as she took this all in.

"Frohike's only forty-six?" she asked.

Chapter 4

C.G.B. Spender set his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray next to his chair.

"I need this taken care of," he said to a man sitting across from him.

"I don't know," the man said in a thick New York City accent. "She's only sixteen. I've never done a kid before."

"Double it, then," Spender said. "Five hundred thousand now, five hundred thousand when it's done. I've supplied you with the explosives, travel expenses, there's not much more I can do."

Spender handed the man a briefcase. The man opened it to make sure the money was there, then stood up to leave.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," the man said.

Spender smiled, and picked up his cigarette out of the ashtray.

"Mulder, where are you?" Assistant Director Skinner was furious. It was the next morning, and Mulder had been incommunicado since yesterday.

"I'm in a safehouse with a witness," Mulder said.

"Witness of what?" Skinner asked.

"A case I'm working on," Mulder said. "She saw a murder, but the murderer saw her. I'm keeping an eye on her for a few days."

"Where is this safehouse?"

"I can't tell you that, sir," Mulder said. "This may not be a secure line."

"Mulder, is Scully involved in this, too?"

"No," Mulder said. "She's not. This is just my investigation. Scully has no idea what I'm doing."

"Then why isn't she here?"

"I don't know," Mulder said quickly. "Maybe she's running late today. I've gotta go." He turned off his cell phone, and went back into the room where Taylor and the Lone gunmen were watching TV.

"So, does AD Skinner still have a stick up his ass?" Langly asked as Mulder entered the room.

"Geez Langly, what are you, psychic?" Mulder asked.

"No," Langly said. "It's just common sense."

"Langly!" Byers exclaimed. "Did you forget about the sixteen year old sitting right next to you?"

"What are you talking about?" Langly asked, confused.

"You are such a guttermouth," Byers said.

"What you think I'm fucking three years old?" Taylor demanded. "You think I'm not used to hearing that god damn language?"

Byers, Langly, Frohike, and Mulder stared at Taylor. The only sound came from the TV.

"I need to use your bathroom," Taylor said, jumping up from the couch. She walked into the bathroom across the room and shut the door.

"I'm a guttermouth?" Langly asked Byers.

"Sorry," Byers apologised. "I didn't know."

"Wow, is she moody," Frohike commented.

"Frohike, what did you say to her now?" Mulder asked.

"Nothing," Frohike said innocently. "Except, maybe, the Mountie on Due North is gay."

"Frohike, get off the gay subject," Mulder said.

Frohike shrugged. Mulder sat down on the couch next to Langly, and the four men continued to watch Due North.

FBI HEADQUARTERS

11:21 AM

Scully walked into Bureau Headquarters later than she'd ever been in her career, and she hoped that Skinner would be too busy with his own crises to notice her tardiness. But Scully's hopes were shattered when she saw the Assistant Director approaching the same elevator bank she was. Any chance of ducking around the corner was gone; Skinner had seen her.

"Agent Scully," Skinner greeted. "Running a little late today?"

"Yes sir," Scully confirmed. "Traffic's a bitch."

"Can't disagree with you there," Skinner said, pushing the call button for the elevator. "However, I need to speak to you about Agent Mulder. Are you aware of the case he's working on?"

Scully looked confused. "I wasn't aware he was working on a case."

"He said something about a witness," Skinner explained. "It didn't sound like the kind of case he would take. He didn't say where the safehouse was. He told me to ask you, that you'd explain."

The elevator came, and the two stepped onto it.

"I'm sorry sir," Scully said. The elevator closed, Skinner pushed a button, and the elevator ascended. "I haven't heard anything about this."

"Well, Scully, I suggest you try to keep you partner under control," Skinner warned as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "And make sure he knows that when a superior asks a question, it had better be answered." Skinner stepped off the elevator. The doors closed.

Scully pushed the "B" button, and the elevator descended. The doors opened on the basement floor. Scully stepped out, and walked into the office. She walked straight to the computer and turned it on. As it booted up, the phone rang.

"Scully," she answered.

"Scully it's me," Mulder said.

"Mulder, where are you? Skinner wants answers. He said that you told him that I know what's going on. Care to fill me in?" She hoped Mulder would pick up on what was happening and play along.

"Uh," Mulder thought for a few seconds. This did not sound like Scully. Something in her voice sounded fake. "It's not important," he finally said. "What is important is that I need you to look up some information on my witness. Tyler Howard. Call me on my cell phone when you get it."

"Sure," Scully said. "No problem." She hung up the phone, and allowed a sigh of relief. Mulder had caught on rather quickly that Skinner was onto them, and that this might not be a secure line. The computer finished booting up, and Scully typed in her password. She then typed in the information required to perform a background check.

A picture of Taylor Harwell came up on the screen, along with all of her information.

NAME: Taylor JORDAN HARWELL PHONE NUMBER: 716/555-1013

a.k.a. MARIA SANTANA

ADDRESS: 30 GLEN PKWY DOB: 10/13/85

ROCHESTER, NY 14609

RECORD: CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. REQUIRES LEVEL D-4 CLEARANCE OR HIGHER.

Seeing the D-4 clearance, Scully immediately shut off the computer, knowing the system was being monitored. She stood up from the desk, and headed back to the elevator. Mulder was going to want to know about this.

Mulder paced back and forth nervously. Every once in a while, he glanced over at the now open bathroom door with the wide-open window on the far wall. The second Taylor had entered the bathroom, she was gone.

"Mulder, calm down," Byers said. "There's nothing you can do. You just have to wait until Scully calls."

Mulder's cell phone chirped from the coffee table. Mulder jumped over the couch to answer it.

"How did you do that?" Langly asked Byers.

"Mulder," he answered.

"Mulder, it's me," Scully said. There was a lot of background noise. Could it be traffic? Mulder wondered.

"Scully, where are you?"

"In a pay phone," Scully answered. "The office may not be entirely private, so I was on my way to see you when I spotted a tail."

"Did you get the information?"

"Sort of," Scully said. "Her record is classified. It requires level D-4 clearance. All I got were her name, an alias, her address, birthday, and phone number."

"Did you say level D-4?" Mulder asked.

"Yes," Scully confirmed. "Mulder, whatever you do, do not let this girl out of your site."

"Too late, Scully."

"What do you mean, 'too late' Mulder?"

"She's gone," Mulder explained. "Out the bathroom window."

"Mulder, we've got to find her," Scully said. "I don't even want to think about what will happen if Spender's people find her first."

"What about your tail?" Mulder asked.

"I'll lose it," Scully said. "I'll meet you at the impound in half an hour. She'll probably try to get her car back."

"Okay," Mulder said. "Half an hour."

ALEXANDRIA PD

VEHICLE IMPOUND

11:47 AM

Taylor walked up to the front gate and pounded on the guard house window. The door opened, and a tall, lanky uniformed guard stepped out.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I believe you have my car," Taylor said. "I want it back."

"Do you know why it was towed?" the guard asked.

"I parked in front of a fire hydrant," Taylor answered. "If you can't give me my car, at least give me my stuff. Everything's in there."

"How old are you?" the guard asked suspiciously.

"Sixteen," Taylor answered.

"You got your licence with you?"

"It's in the car."

"All right," the guard gave in. "Which car is it?"

"The green, mint condition, '71 Buick Rivera," Taylor said. "And it better not be scratched."

The guard opened the gate and the two of them walked into the lot.

"'71 Buick Rivera," the guard mumbled to himself as he walked along, reading from a clipboard. "Here it is—" the guard stopped short and stared at an empty spot between a Ford Taurus and a Chevy Impala.

"Oh, I guess you gave me a free sample of that new invisible paint?" Taylor asked. "Works pretty good."

"It should be here," the guard said. "Wait right here. I'm going to call my lieutenant."

The guard jogged off, and Taylor leaned back against the Taurus. From here, she could see the guard picking up the phone in the guardhouse. Everything had been going fine until now. And when she had realised she had left her bag at Agent Mulder's little "hideout." But now, just a little misunderstanding about the placement of a '71 Riv had to be cleared up, and Taylor was home free.

The guard hung up the phone and started back over toward Taylor, when a car pulled up. Mulder's car. Followed by an unfamiliar car. Mulder got out of his car, and Scully got out of the other one.

"Can I help you?" the guard asked.

Mulder and Scully flashed their badges.

"Agent Scully."

"Agent Mulder, FBI."

"Has a teenage girl come here looking for a '71 Rivera?" Scully asked.

"A green one?"

"Yeah," Mulder said.

"She's right over—" the guard pointed at the empty spot where Taylor had been standing. "She was right over there, where her car had also been earlier. There must be a mini Bermuda Triangle over there or something."

"We're going to look around," Mulder said. "You know, just to make sure she's really gone."

The guard nodded. "Okay."

Mulder and Scully walked into the lot, and split up. Mulder went to the right, and Scully went left.

Taylor watched Mulder approach her hiding place under the Chevy Impala, next to the chain-linked fence.

From under the car, Taylor watched Mulder's feet stop and turn toward the Taurus as he looked through the window. Taylor saw the opportunity, and pulled back a broken section of the fence and scrambled through.

Mulder crouched down and looked under the Taurus. Nothing. He turned his head and looked under the Impala. Part of the fence was hanging open, swinging freely, but that could be because of the light breeze blowing.

Taylor ran as fast as she could around to the front gate. The guard was looking down at papers in the guardhouse. Taylor jumped into Scully's car and turned the key that was left in the ignition. The car came to life, and the guard ran out. Taylor shifted to reverse, and slammed down the accelerator.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Hey, stop! That’s not yours!"

Scully and Mulder ran to the front gate.

"What happened?" Scully asked.

"That girl came around and took your car," he told Scully. "I tried to stop her—" Mulder got into his car and started the engine. "—but I didn't realise what she was doing until she started the engine."

Scully got into the passenger side of Mulder's car.

"Which way did she turn?" Scully asked.

"Left."

Mulder shifted to reverse, and sped toward the road. With tires squealing, he turned the way Taylor had gone.

Scully watched the speedometer nervously as it climbed to sixty, seventy, and then ninety!

"Mulder, maybe you should slow sown a little," Scully suggested.

"Where's the fun in that, Scully?"

As the car approached the top of a hill, Scully's car could be seen not far ahead. Mulder slowed to a legal speed as they approached Taylor. Mulder laid on the horn. Taylor's hand raised, and along with it, her middle finger, just before she sped up.

"Oh my—" Scully started. "That girl has some serious temper issues."

"What is she thinking?" Mulder asked as he sped up. "She's insane!"

Mulder followed close behind Taylor. A sign on the side of the road read: DEAD MAN'S CURVE AHEAD. 35MPH. The speedometer in Mulder's car read dangerously close to eighty. Finally seeing the curve, he hit the brakes. The car screeched to a halt. Ahead, there were more screeches, followed by a gut-wrenching crunch of metal, and shattering of glass.

30 GLEN PKWY

ROCHESTER, NY

The explosives had been easier to hid than the man had thought. George Matthews sat in his beat up GMC Jimmy across the street. As soon as the Harwells came home, they would be dead. The bomb would be set off when the key was turned in the lock. Right now, the Harwells were at the Greater Rochester International Airport, whose name was bigger than the actual airport itself, picking up their daughter.

A car pulled into 30 Glen Parkway. This was it.

Mr. and Mrs. Harwell exited their 2000 Ford Explorer, and walked to the front door.

"I can't believe Taylor would do something like that," Mrs. Harwell said to her husband. "Stealing an FBI agent's car, then flying the bird at them is just unheard of. Especially for a sixteen year old girl."

"At least they got her to the hospital," Mr. Harwell said. "I'll be willing to wait a few more days as long as I know she'll be okay."

Mr. Harwell took out his house key, and put it in the lock. Matthews realised that the bomb was about to be triggered, and there was no girl. He jumped out of his truck, just as Mr. Harwell turned the key.

"No!" Matthews screamed.

The house exploded, and wood and glass flew in every direction. Matthews flew to the ground from the blast. An arm, with a wristwatch still strapped around the wrist, flew through the air and landed next to Matthews with a sickening splat.

Matthews jumped up from the street and scrambled back into his truck. He took one last look at the burning house, then sped off into the night.

ALEXANDRIA GENERAL HOSPITAL

11:21 PM

Darkness blurred into light as Taylor regained consciousness. A doctor stood at the end of her bed filling out a chart. He looked up and saw Taylor's eyes open.

"Taylor, how do you feel?" he asked, closing the chart and taking a pen light out of his pocket.

"Like shit," Taylor groaned.

The doctor shined the light in Taylor's eyes. "No doubt," he said. "But perhaps we could refrain from using extreme language." He put the light away.

"I'm Dr. Kravitz," he said. "You were involved in a pretty nasty wreck. Do you remember anything that happened?"

Taylor stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

"I was driving really fast, I went around a curve, then I woke up here."

Kravitz nodded. "Do you know where here is?"

"A hospital?" Taylor guessed sarcastically.

"Alexandria General," Kravitz clarified. "You have a concussion, so be careful about sleeping too long. You have a large cut on your forehead—"

"Stitches?" Taylor asked hopefully.

Kravitz nodded. "Seven."

"Will it leave a scar?"

"I'm not sure," Kravitz said thoughtfully. "We've taken good care of it so far, so probably not."

Taylor looked disappointed. Kravitz looked confused.

"I'm the captain of my district's hockey team," Taylor explained. "Three Championship titles in the past four years. How can I expect to intimidate opposing teams if I don't have any scars? I'm sure as hell not knocking out any of my teeth."

"Well, I can't help you there," Kravitz said. "You'll have to stay the night to observation. The two people who brought you in are waiting to see you. I'll send them in."

Kravitz started toward the door.

"Wait," Taylor stopped him. "I don't feel up to seeing any visitors right now."

"You don't want to see your own parents?"

"My parents are here?"

Kravitz smiled. "I'll send them in."

He found Mulder and Scully waiting right outside the door.

"She's a little disoriented," Kravitz informed them. "She just regained consciousness. No sudden or loud noises. I'll be back in about twenty minutes."

"Well, whose going to tell her?" Scully asked after Kravitz left.

"I don't know," Mulder admitted. He opened the door to Taylor's room.

"That doctor said my parent are here," Taylor said. "There are they?"

"They're not here," Scully said softly.

"We had to check you in under another name so Spender can't track you," Mulder explained. "You remember what I told you about him? About how powerful he is?"

Taylor nodded.

"Taylor," Scully began slowly. "There was a bomb. It was planted by someone into your house."

Taylor could tell by the way they were talking that something was wrong.

"Are my parents okay?" Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. "No. Oh, god, no!"

"Taylor, it's important that you stay calm," Mulder said. "We'll have you out of here in a few hours. I s there any family you want us to contact?"

Taylor sniffled and wiped tears from her face. "My, uh, Uncle Elliot. Elliot Stabler. He lives in New York. I don't know his number."

"It's okay," Mulder said. "I'll find it. Agent Scully is going to stay with you while I go call your uncle, okay?"

Taylor nodded. Mulder left the room, and Scully pulled a chair over to the bed.

"I, uh, I'm sorry about your car," Taylor said.

"Don't worry about it," Scully said. "It wasn't mine. I borrowed it from the Bureau."

"You can do that?"

"Oh, yeah," Scully said. "We get free cell phones, guns, plane rides, car rentals."

"First class or coach?"

"Depends on the budget surplus."

Mulder slipped his cell phone back into his inside jacket pocket. Elliot Stabler hadn't taken the new too bad, but it had seemed like he hadn't seen his sister in years. He was going to come down the next afternoon to get Taylor, and find out more about what had happened.

"Agent Mulder!" a furious voice yelled from down the corridor.

Mulder jumped up from the chair he was sitting in. "Sir," he greeted Skinner, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"I got word that one of my top agent's car was totalled," Skinner said. "I want to see if she's going to be all right."

"Fine," Mulder said, partially blocking the door to Taylor's room. "She's doing fine."

The door opened and Scully stepped out. Seeing Skinner, she immediately shut the door again.

"Well, I'd say she's doing better than fine," Skinner said. "In fact, one would never be able to tell that you'd even been in an accident, Agent Scully."

"Well, sir, I wasn't in an accident," Scully said.

"Your car flipped over into a revine," Skinner said. "That doesn't just happen."

"I was in Agent Mulder's car," Scully explained. "We were in pursuit of a suspect who was in my car."

"Agent Mulder, does this have anything to do with your witness?"

"Yes," Mulder said. "But due to the sensitivity of this case, that’s all I can tell you right now."

"So Scully is involved?" Skinner asked.

"I became involved when Mulder's witness escaped his custody and stole my car," Scully said. "Before that, I had no knowledge of Mulder's whereabouts or current caseload."

"Is that the witness in there?" asked Skinner, indicating the room.

"Yes," Scully said.

"Is she under arrest?"

"No," Mulder answered. "Why would she be?"

"Because she stole and destroyed a federal agent's car, and is a prime suspect in an attempted murder," Skinner said. "So if you're not going to arrest her—"

"Did you say attempted murder?" Mulder interrupted.

"Yes," Skinner said. "C.G.B. Spender called me because, he says, you two were at his apartment just in time to save his life from this juvenile delinquent with a gun. Your 'witness' Agent Mulder, tried to kill the Smoking Man. You both saw it. Why isn't Taylor Harwell under arrest?"

"Well, sir, I uh, don't really know," Mulder replied.

"We'll take care of it, sir," Scully said.

"See that you do," Skinner said. "Is she going to be okay?"

Mulder and Scully nodded, not knowing what to make of the question.

"Good," Skinner said. "When you release her from your custody, give her back her gun. Maybe we'll get lucky, and next time she won't be interrupted."

Skinner walked back to the bank of elevators, leaving Mulder and Scully stunned.

"Well," Mulder said, still shocked. "Who'd have seen that coming?"

"Definitely not me," Scully admitted.

"We've got to get Taylor out of here," Mulder said. "The Lone Gunmen's place seems to be safe. I told her uncle she'd be there tomorrow."

"Okay," Scully agreed. "Go get the car. I'll get her ready."

Mulder jogged to the elevators and Scully went back into the room.

THE LONE GUNMEN HQ

12:24 AM

Mulder pulled up to the curb. Taylor was asleep in the backseat, and Scully was barely holding on. He shut off the engine, and Taylor jumped to life with a startled shout.

"Oh," she said disdainfully. "We're here."

"Just for a few hours," Scully assured her.

"This is the safest place you can be," Mulder added. "Two FBI agents, three conspiracy theorists, and twenty locks on every door. How can you get any safer?"

Mulder and Scully exited the car, but when Taylor pulled on the door handle, it wouldn't open.

Mulder opened it from the outside.

"Sorry," he said to Taylor as he shut the door. "I didn't want to take any chances, so I put the child lock on."

"What about right now?" Taylor asked as the three of them walked to the door. "I could run right now."

"Nah, you're too tired," he replied. But he kept a close eye on her anyway until Byers let them in.

10:13 AM

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

"What do you mean something went wrong?" Spender barked at Matthews. "How could something have gone wrong?"

"Well, uh, the girl wasn't there," Matthews explained. "The bomb went off perfectly. Except when the guys arm landed two inches from my face. But that's another story."

"Why wasn't she there?" Spender asked, more calmly this time.

"I don't know," Matthews said. "They were coming from the airport. But no kid."

"She must still be down here," Spender mumbled to himself.

"Come again?"

"Nothing," Spender said. "I'll call you with further instructions."

10:32 AM

OFFICES OF THE LONE GUNMEN

Taylor awoke to the sound of pots and pans clattering on a linoleum floor.

"Give it up, Byers," Frohike said from the kitchen. "Just order takeout."

"Why don't you order it?" came Byers' response.

"Fine!"

Taylor sat up on the couch. She had a pounding headache, and had had a hell of a night. The only pyjamas she had thought to pack were her flannel Tigger® ones, and she had been loaded down with blankets. Within ten minutes, she could no longer take the heat, and had kicked the blankets off. Less than five minutes after that, she was shivering and grabbed at the blankets and curled up under all of them. This went on for about an hour before she finally fell asleep.

Taylor rubbed her head and felt the giant bandage covering her cut, and half her forehead. Just a few more hours and she'd be out of there.

On the other side of the room, Langly was showing Mulder something on one of the computers.

Frohike poked his head in through the doorway, cordless phone in hand.

"I'm taking orders," he said. "What do you guys want?"

"What are you ordering?" Mulder asked.

"Fajitas."

"No thanks," Mulder said. "Not hungry."

"Langly?"

"Well, Frohike, get me one with everything," Langly answered.

"Taylor?"

"Chicken," Taylor said. "As spicy as they come."

"Are you sure?" Frohike asked.

"Yeah, this place gets pretty spicy," Langly warned.

"No problem," Taylor said. "The spicier the better."

"Okay," Frohike said. He brought the phone back to his ear and continued ordering as he went back to the kitchen area.

"Knowing Frohike he's not using the secure line," Langly muttered. He stood up and followed Frohike into the kitchen.

Taylor was alone with Mulder. But not for long. The doorbell rang almost as soon as Langly left the room. The three men ran from the kitchen to the door, and Mulder reached for his gun. Taylor perked up.

"You have a gun?" she asked in awe.

"Yeah," Mulder said. "Most cops do."

"Can I see it for a minute?"

"I'm kind of using it right now," Mulder said. "Maybe later." He jogged to the door to join the Lone Gunmen.

"We don't know the younger one," Byers said. "But the older one is Detective Munch."

"From back in '89?" Mulder asked.

"See for yourself," Frohike offered.

Mulder looked up at a small TV mounted above the door. Two men waited on the other side, and one was indeed Detective Munch.

Mulder pressed the intercom button. "Why, if it isn't Detective Munch, old buddy, old pal," he said.

"Agent Mulder?" Munch asked. "Do my ears deceive me? This here is Detective Stabler. We're in from New York to pickup his niece."

"You guys can open the door," Mulder told the Lone Gunmen.

From outside, Munch and Stabler listened to the seemingly endless sound of the locks unlocking.

"Guess you can never be too safe," Stabler commented.

"It's not safety, it's paranoia," Munch said. "I met them back in '89. Long story. Not worth getting into."

The door opened, and four men stared out at Munch and Stabler. Mulder looked up and down the street suspiciously.

"Were you followed?" Langly asked.

"No," Munch said. "Come on guys, you gonna keep us out here all day?"

"It's been almost ten years," Stabler began, setting his coffee mug down on the coffee table. He was seated on the couch next to Taylor. Munch and Mulder sat in the two armchairs.

"Marie married Luke, and that was about it," he continued. "They came down to New York for Christmas a few times, but then Luke fell into the computer business, and all we ever saw of them after that were pictures. So you can imagine how surprised when you called me, Agent Mulder."

"You got here so early," Mulder said. "We weren't sure what to expect when the doorbell rang."

"I'm sorry about that," Stabler said. "I didn't want to wait to come down. I can only imagine how scared Taylor must be right now. She should be around family."

"You're absolutely right," Mulder agreed.

"Can she come back to New York with me now?"

"I don't see why not," Mulder said. "I just feel bad that we couldn't get Spender."

"We can!" Taylor exclaimed. "I'll wear a wire."

"No," Stabler said. "I'm not putting you in that situation."

"Oh, come on," Taylor replied. "Like he's going to spill his guts to any of you. So far, there's almost no evidence against him. Pretty much the only way to get this guy is to get him to confess on tape."

There was a silent exchange of glances between the men.

"Mulder, don't you want to get him for killing two of your informants, conspiring to kill your father, and the abduction of your sister?"

"Taylor, how do you know all that?" Mulder asked, bewildered.

"I read his file," Taylor explained. "It's all in there."

"How did you read his file?" Munch asked.

"I hacked DoD," Taylor said matter of factly. "So we can't use it because it was obtained illegally."

Munch shrugged. "She's got a point. There's not much we can do. I mean, this guy's staging alien abductions and blowing up houses. We definitely want to put this guy away, but there's no physical evidence."

Stabler sat in deep thought for a few minutes. "All right," he finally said. "But we are having as much back up as possible, and at no time will Taylor be more than 200 feet from one of our guys."

"Well, there's a little problem with that," Mulder said. "This is way below bureau radar. We're trying to keep this from our superiors. We don't know who's working for Spender, and who's legit."

"Then where are we getting the equipment?" Munch asked.

"My partner will take care of it," Mulder said. "She's still sleeping, but she should be up any minute now."

"Mulder, what's going on?" Scully asked from the doorway.

"Well, well," Mulder teased. "If it isn't Rumple Stiltskin."

"Wow," Munch muttered under his breath. "I'd love to have a partner like that."

"Mulder," Scully warned.

"Scully." Mulder put on his best smile. "We need a favour."

"And what would that be?"

"We need you to get us a surveillance van and a wire for Taylor," Mulder said.

"Mulder, all the equipment you need is right here," Scully said.

"Yeah," Langly said, coming to the doorway. "We'd be glad to lend you the stuff."

OUTSIDE 900 W. GEORGIA ST.

GEORGETOWN

Taylor walked casually to the front door of 900 West Georgia Street. She got in before; she'd do it again. Taylor pushed the buzzer for apartment 225.

"Yes?" a woman's voice asked from the speaker.

"Linda Dawson?" Taylor asked, reading the name next to the button.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"UPS, ma'am," Taylor said. "I have a package for you."

"Oh, well just leave it there," Linda Dawson said. "I'll get it later."

"But someone might take it," Taylor's voice said inside the van.

The Lone Gunmen, two Federal Agents, and two New York City detectives sat in a black van surrounded by listening equipment.

"Anyway," Taylor's voice continued. "You need to sign for it."

"She's a lot better than I thought she'd be," Stabler commented.

"All right," Dawson sighed. "Come on up." The door buzzed, and Taylor pushed it open and walked into the building.

Taylor pushed the elevator's call button. The doors opened right away, and she got on. As the elevator went up, she felt the gun in the waistband of her jeans. Her Uncle Elliot had given it to her, but it was only loaded with blanks. Just in case she lost her temper.

The doors opened, and Taylor stepped out onto the floor. There was no turning back now. She walked to Spender's apartment and pounded on the door.

"Who is it?" he asked from the other side.

"Who do you think?"

"Go away or I'll call the police!" Spender warned.

"I'm not leaving!" Taylor yelled through the door. "Either you open this door, or I'm breaking it down!"

A lock clicked, and the door opened.

"What do you want?"

"You sound worried, C.G.B.," Taylor said casually as she made her way into his apartment. "Something wrong? By the way, you're going to have to tell me what that stands for sometime."

Spender shut the door.

"All right," Taylor said seriously, pulling out the gun. "No bullshit, or I blow your fucking head off. Clear?"

Spender nodded, and calmly sat down in an armchair as he lit a cigarette.

"What do you want to know?" he asked as he puffed on the cancer stick.

"Let's start with why you killed my parents."

"That's fair," Spender said. "That bomb was actually meant for you. But the night you were supposed to go home, you didn't. Even if you had, your parents would have died anyway, you right along with them." He took a long drag on his cigarette. "But that mistake can be fixed now."

Down a small hallway, a toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened. Taylor moved her aim of the gun from Spender to a man standing at the end of a short hallway. Assessing the situation, the man drew his own gun.

"Alex," Spender said. "This is the girl I told you about. Taylor, this is my co-worker, Alex Krycek."

Krycek only held his gun with one hand. His other arm hung limply by his side.

Taylor made a disgusted face. "You didn't even wash your hands."

"Come on, kid, don't be stupid," Krycek coaxed. "Put the gun down."

Taylor snickered. "I didn't put it down to two Feds, I'm sure as hell not putting it down for you."

Just a few more seconds and the cavalry would be there, Taylor knew. She'd gotten Spender's confession. They were done.

"Look, kid, if you don't put it down I'm going to have to shoot you," Krycek warned.

"If you don't put your gun down, I'm going to have to shoot you," Taylor replied.

Krycek opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by the door breaking open. With a loud bam, the door flung open, and Mulder, Scully, Munch, and Stabler ran in, weapons drawn.

"Put it down Krycek!" Mulder yelled. Krycek dropped the gun, and Taylor handed hers back to Stabler.

DULLES AIRPORT

WASHINGTON, D.C.

TWO DAYS LATER

Taylor sat in the plastic seat in the airport, waiting for the announcement for flight 1013 to New York to board.

The past two days had been pretty hectic. C.G.B. Spender and Alex Krycek had been arrested. Spender was charged with conspiracy, murder, and destruction of personal property. Krycek was charged with possession of an illegal firearm and attempted murder. With Spender's confession, the outlook was good that that they'd both be convicted.

"First class passengers for flight 1013 to New York now boarding," the flight attendant announced over the loudspeaker.

Stabler looked at his watch. "Wow, they're boarding early."

"Yeah, well that's first class, so we've still got about another fifteen to twenty minutes," Munch commented.

"Hey Taylor," Mulder said. "That was some pretty good police work you did. You want to be a cop when you grow up?"

"Hmmm," Taylor thought for a few seconds. "I don't know. Maybe. It seems pretty cool."

"Coach passengers now boarding for flight 1013 to New York," the loudspeaker blared.

Scully raised her eyebrows. "Another fifteen minutes?" she asked Munch.

He shrugged. "Okay, so I was wrong," he said. "So sue me."

"All right," Stabler said standing up. "Back to New York."

He and Munch picked up their bags and headed for the gate. Taylor picked up her bag, but paused before following Munch and Stabler. She turned back to Mulder and Scully.

"I never thanked you guys for helping me," she said with a weak smile. "So, thanks."

"If you really want to thank us," Mulder replied, "stay in New York."

"And stop stealing cars," Scully added.

Taylor smiled. "I'll try my best," she promised.

THREE WEEKS LATER

The phone rang next to the couch at the Stabler residence in New York.

"I got it!" Taylor yelled. She reached over and picked up the white cordless phone, not taking her eyes off the TV.

"Hello," she answered.

"Taylor," Mulder said. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Taylor said, picking up the remote and muting the TV. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to your uncle."

Taylor was a bit startled by the seriousness in his voice. "Okay, hold on," she said. "Uncle El," she said over her shoulder into the kitchen.

Stabler walked over to the couch. "Who is it?"

"Agent Mulder," she told him, handing over the phone.

"Agent Mulder," Stabler greeted.

"Detective Stabler, I'm afraid I have some bad news," Mulder said. "C.G.B. Spender and Alex Krycek have escaped federal custody."

"What?" Stabler asked in shock. "How did this happen?"

"They have people on the inside," Mulder said. "We don't have any leads, but we're trying our best to find some. You might want to keep an extra eye on Taylor."

"Yeah, of course," Stabler agreed. "Anything turns up, you'll give me a call?"

"Yeah, uh, hold on," Mulder said. There was silence for a few seconds. "Something just turned up," Mulder said. "Spender has a New York residence."

Stabler grabbed a pen and a pad of paper from the side table next to the couch. "What's the address?"

"47 West 126TH Street," Mulder said. "My partner and I are getting a flight out in the morning."

"Great," Stabler said. "I'll have half my division crawling over that place in a half hour."

47 WEST 126TH STREET

"No one's home," Briscoe told Stabler as he jogged up the front steps.

"Any signs of life at all?" Stabler asked.

"Someone was here recently," Briscoe confirmed. "Fresh milk in the fridge."

Detective Green joined Briscoe, holding an appointment book.

"Check this out," Green said, pointing at the address section. "Guy's got a cabin up in Quebec."

"Canada," Stabler said. "You think that's where he's headed?"

"Possible," Green said. "There seem to be some clothes missing. But if he lives in Virginia at the same time he lives in New York, he could have just packed a bag to go down there."

"It's still worth checking out," Briscoe told Stabler. "How's Taylor holding up?"

"She's doing good," Stabler said. "A little shaken up, but she still got her sense of humour."

"That's always a good thing to have," Green said. "We'll put in a call to the RCMP. If they're up there, we'll get 'em."

RCMP DETATCHMENT 420

MONTREAL, QB

It had been over two years since Constable Benton Fraser and his friend, Chicago Detective Stanley Kowalski, also known as Ray, had set out on an adventure up in the far north. Ray had wanted to find the hand of Franklin, the one reaching out for the Beaufort Sea. Needless to say, they didn't find it. They had fallen down an ice crevasse . . .again. But this time they had come much closer to death. So Ray decided that if they survived that, he'd become a Canadian citizen and join the Mounties. They survived, and Ray stuck to his word and became a Mountie.

Now, Fraser sat at his desk facing Ray.

"Go fish," he said.

Ray picked up a card. Ace of hearts.

"Do you have an Ace?" Fraser asked.

"How do you do that?" Ray asked, throwing his newly found ace at Fraser.

"Do what?" Fraser asked innocently.

Ray was about to answer when the phone rang. Fraser picked it up.

"Constable Fraser." There was a brief pause. Fraser reached for a pen. "What was that address again? Yes, okay, we'll check it out. Is anyone coming up—" Another pause. "I see. Do you want us to wait?"

Ray leaned forward, intrigued. He hadn't seen much action since joining the force, and this might be his big break.

"Okay, thank you kindly," Fraser said. He hung up the phone and picked his cards back up.

"Do you have a four?" he asked Ray. Ray handed over the four.

"What was that all about?"

"Two fugitives escaped federal custody in the U.S.," Fraser said as he put down the fours. "They might be headed up here and they want us to check out a lead. The FBI is always losing criminals, and we're going to have to catch these two, like we always do, to save the reputation of two agents. Seven?"

"Go fish," Ray said. "What do you mean we always do? Eight."

Fraser paused. "Well, you're Canadian now, so I'll tell you," he said. "Go fish. The FBI is sloppy. They're always losing perpetrators on the way to trial or on bail. Of course, they always come to Canada, and it's up to us, the RCMP, to catch them. We do, the FBI thanks us, and that's that. Jack?"

"No, go fish. So you're saying that Mounties are better than the FBI? Two."

Fraser handed Ray the two. "No, not necessarily, Ray. We work on same level, we just happen to have a much lower escape rate."

"Oh," Ray said. "How much lower? Queen."

Fraser handed Ray the queen. "About 85 percent."

"Ah," Ray mumbled. "I think I just won."

"No matter," Fraser said. "Time to go." He stood up and put his red serge tunic on.

"Go where?"

"The lead is a cabin a few miles from here. It's in the middle of woods, so if that's where they're headed, I doubt they're there yet. But we should still check to be sure. Two FBI agents are coming up tonight to assist us."

Ray stood up and took his coat off the rack. "Is that normal?"

Fraser shook his head. "No. But this is a corruption case, so I imagine it has the highest priority." Fraser left the office.

"They're only sending two agents?" Ray wondered out loud. He shook his head and followed Fraser out the door.

TEN MINUTES LATER

C.G.B. SPENDER'S CABIN

The RCMP issue jeep pulled up to the cabin and the engine turned off. Fraser got out of the driver's side, and Ray got out the passenger side.

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," Ray commented. "No fresh footprints in the snow, which isn't cleared away from the door at all."

Fraser looked at Ray in awe. Back in Chicago, Ray never would have picked up on that.

"Very good, Ray," Fraser complimented. "We should still look around anyway."

The two split up, Fraser went to the left side of the cabin, Ray to the right. Ray looked through a side window. The place hadn't been used in years. There was a newspaper from 1998 lying on the table.

Ray was about to move on when he caught his reflection in the window. He admired himself in the Stetson and red serge. He'd always made fun of Fraser, but there was a sense of pride that came with wearing the uniform.

"No one's been here in a few years," Fraser said, startling Ray. "We'd better get back. They could show up any time, and we don't was to be here without adequate backup when they arrive."

"I completely agree," Ray said. "Let's go."

Ray walked back to the Jeep, and Fraser allowed a smile. After over a year of teasing, Ray finally understood what it meant to wear the suit.

6:28 PM

SPENDER'S CABIN

The old beat up, brown Buick pulled up to the cabin. Spender got out the driver's side, Krycek out the passenger side.

"Someone's been here," Krycek said.

"RCMP," Spender said, unfazed. He took out his keys and approached the front door. "Mulder probably contacted them. They came out, saw we weren't here, and left. We're safe."

Spender opened the door and went inside. Krycek followed, and shut the door.

RCMP DETEATCHMENT 420

9:10 PM

"Agent Mulder."

"Agent Scully, FBI."

Mulder and Scully flashed their badges respectively.

"Constable Benton Fraser," he introduced himself. "And this is Constable Ray Kowalski. I hope we can be of some help to you. Have a seat."

They all sat in chairs around Fraser's desk.

"We hope you can help us, too," Scully said.

"You didn't find anything at the cabin?" Mulder asked.

"No," Fraser said. "It's been unused for a few years. If that's where there going, they'll be there any time between now and morning."

"Should we go check it out now?" Scully asked.

"We actually should wait until morning," Ray said. "There's no telling what they're armed with, or if they're waiting for us. If we go when it's light out, we'll have at least one advantage."

"What's that?" Mulder asked.

"I know these woods better than anyone," Fraser explained. "I could get through them at night, but they know their cabin better than anyone. And these cabins usually have well-hidden compartments that serve as very good hiding places. They're even harder to find at night in the dark. A foot or high speed vehicle pursuit would also be much safer when it's light out."

Mulder nodded. "All right," he agreed. "Well Scully, let's get a good night's sleep." They all stood up.

"We'll all meet back here, say around six?" Fraser suggested.

"Sounds good," Scully agreed, meeting Fraser's eyes for the first time. "Six it is."

RCMP DETATCHMENT 420

12:24 AM

Scully rang the bell to the RCMP station. She thought it odd that Benton Fraser lived where he worked, even stranger that there was a doorbell.

The door opened, and the Mountie stood tall in the doorway, dressed in red long johns.

"Agent Scully?" Fraser asked, confused. "What are you doing here? It's—"

"After midnight?" Scully guessed, making her way into the building. "What kind of a name is Benton?"

"The name my mother gave me," Fraser said as he shut the door. "Have you been drinking?"

"Alcohol in Canada is so cheap!" Scully exclaimed, drunkenly amazed. "And damn good!"

"All right, take it easy," Fraser said. "Come in here and lie down." He led her into a room and gestured to the couch.

"I'm not tired," Scully said. "I'm a little antsy, if you know what I mean." She shook her hips for emphasis.

"All too clearly," Fraser said. "Agent Scully—"

"No!" Scully almost yelled. "Call me Dana," she told him breathily.

"Uh, okay, Dana," Fraser began.

"Oh, Ben," Scully said. "My shoulders are so cramped. Would you rub them for me?"

"Agent Scully—"

"Dana!" she snapped.

"Dana, would you like a ride back to your hotel?"

"No, but I would like to take a ride on something."

"I'll call Agent Mulder," Fraser said, picking up the phone on the desk.

Scully ran across the room, grabbed the phone and slammed it down.

"I don't want Mulder," Scully said. "I want you!"

"Dana, you're under the influence of alcohol," Fraser said slowly. "Sit down on the couch. Just relax."

Scully lay down on the couch. "I guess you're right, Walter. Your couch is so comfortable."

Fraser looked at Scully. She had passed out. "Oh, thank God," Fraser muttered. "Ray!"

Ray ran into the room in a tank top and boxers.

"Morning, Fraser," he said groggily. "Did I oversleep?"

"No, but would you mind taking Agent Scully back to her hotel?"

Ray looked down at Scully lying on the couch. "Oh, Fraser, you got a girlfriend?" Ray teased.

"No," Fraser said. "She's unconscious due to the over consumption of alcohol." He wrote on a piece of paper. "Here's where she's staying. Now, whatever she says or does, she doesn't mean it."

"Got it," Ray said, taking the paper.

SPENDER'S CABIN

4:13 AM

Krycek crept over the floorboards, careful not to wake Spender. If he was caught sneaking out, he might as well already be dead, because he most likely would be once Spender got through with him.

It wasn't safe here. The RCMP had been here, snooping around. They'd be back Krycek knew, and Spender didn't seem to understand that.

Krycek carefully opened the front door and stepped out. The moonlight drifting through the trees cast an eerie glow on the snow. He turned and carefully closed the door, and headed to the car.

Spender jumped out of bed and ran to the door the second he heard the car start. He flung the door open just as the Buick backed down the path used as a driveway.

"Alex!" Spender yelled, chasing after the car. "Alex, come back! We can talk it out!"

The car sped away, leaving Spender barefoot in the snow.

SPENDER'S CABIN

6:06 AM

The RCMP issue Jeep drove up to the cabin, and the four cops filed out, guns in hand.

"All right, on my count, we kick the door in," Fraser said. "Ready?"

At that moment, the door flew open and Spender ran out with a rifle.

"You'll never take me alive!" he cackled insanely. Spender cocked the rifle, and the four cops shot at once.

The rifle fell to ground. Spender swayed dizzily, and then collapsed.

Scully ran up to the body and checked for a pulse.

"He's dead," she called back. The men began to approach cautiously as they holstered their guns.

Stabler RESIDENCE

TWO DAYS LATER

"I just wish I could've been the one to do it," Taylor said. "The bastard deserved what he got."

"So he's really dead?" Stabler asked.

"Yes," Scully confirmed.

"Dead as a doornail," Mulder added.

"What about Krycek?" Taylor asked.

"Unfortunately, he wasn't there," Scully said. "We believe he may have escaped back to Russia."

"So there's no way to get him," Stabler said. "We don't have an extradition treaty with Russia."

"I know this man," Mulder said. "He'll be back, and now there's a warrant out for his arrest. When he does come back, we'll get him."

SOMEWHERE IN THE RUSSIAN WILDERNESS

Krycek stumbled through the woods. He couldn't believe this was happening again. He'd already been put through all the experimentation with the black oil. He'd been vaccinated. Yet they were after him again.

"Stop!" a man on horseback yelled in Russian.

Krycek glanced back, then continued on. Another man on horseback pulled a short, thick branch off of a tree as he passed. Seeing Krycek wasn't slowing down, the man hurled the branch. It hit Krycek on the back of the head with a sickening smack. Krycek fell, and everything went black.

THE END