Let's Face the Music and Dance-Part 3/7
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

When Mulder had first moved in with Scully, her apartment
had been immaculate; Scully was, by nature, an organized
person who demanded order from herself and those around her.
Since Mulder had become part of the 'household', things had
changed. Not that he didn't keep things clean. He did. Or at
least, he tried to. But Scully was actually anxious to have
Mulder away for the first time in months so she could get
down and do a thorough top to bottom cleaning without him
looking over her shoulder saying, "Scully, it's already
clean. Why are you scrubbing so hard?"

How could she explain to him her compulsive need to make
sure everything was spotless? she asked herself as she set
out to make the bathtub sparkle. Of course, he probably
already knew. That was the problem with living with a
telepath.

They had first realized what was happening to him shortly
after Will's birth, when Mulder kept waking up just before
the baby, mumbling how he needed to be changed or he was
hungry. At first, Scully didn't think much of it; those
first few months had been a tangle of emotions intermingled
with very little sleep. But when Mulder said, "Ow! Scully!
That hurts!" when she accidentally pinched Will's tender
skin under the buckle of his car seat, and Mulder had been
putting things in the trunk, unable to see into the back
seat, they both began to wonder.

Two MRI's and a CAT scan later, Scully had been only
slightly relieved to find no abnormalities that could be
construed as dangerous. But abnormalities existed. And
though they never put Will through the tests, they knew he
had been 'blessed' with these talents, too. He just didn't
know how to use them very well, yet, and was easily
distracted, which was how Scully was able to enter the
apartment without either of them noticing the other day. She
smiled to herself as she scrubbed. Which meant Mulder was
easily distracted, too.

Usually, he was able to sense her presence before she even
entered the room. And he was getting better and better at
hearing her thoughts, though she was able to close her mind
to him when she felt him delving. "No sneaking into my mind
when I don't want you there, Fox Mulder," she once told him
with a frown. Of course, when he was asleep, she had no real
control, and Scully had had more than a few
interesting...mostly erotic...dreams that she was sure were
not just hers alone. Too bad he hadn't figured out a way to
vanquish her nightmares, though he had told her once the
images she saw were eerily similar to the nightmare visions
he had during the dreamstate he had escaped to when Cancer
Man had literally been playing with his brain. 

The thought of the old man caused a shiver to run up her
backbone. She had heard he was dead. Skinner had witnessed
his burial himself. But, it had been less than a year since
they had watched Mulder's casket, with his body inside,
lowered into a grave. So Scully took this news with a grain
of salt. CGB Spender had been involved directly with
whatever the aliens had planned; there was no guarantee he
had stayed dead.

Scully sat back on her heels and glanced out the bathroom
door, listening carefully for the sounds of her mother and
Will in the living room. Being Saturday, her mother was
spending the day with her grandson. Margaret Scully had
already asked where Mulder was, and had kept her other
questions to herself when Scully had answered simply, "Out
of town." She also didn't ask questions about the Volkswagen
van parked in the street by the apartment building, with
three familiar faces inside keeping their eyes on her
apartment window.

Her bodyguards.

Amazingly enough, she did feel safe with the Gunmen watching
her and Will in Mulder's absence. She knew they would
willingly die for the baby if need be. And perhaps for her,
as well. 

Skinner had taken his turn watching her in the past three
days, often spending hours in the apartment playing with
Will. His surveillance, combined with his stressful, busy
job at the Bureau, left the AD exhausted. Scully commented
that he shouldn't use so much of his off time to watch her;
he wasn't getting any younger. His only response, other than
the beet red color his face turned, had been a glare and a
stiff-legged walk out of her apartment and back down to his
car, where he sat, watching, until the Gunmen relieved him
around 1 AM.

She was anxious for Mulder to call, again, if only to tell
her they had caught the psychopath that had killed Theresa
Hoese and kidnapped her baby. To tell her there was no
connection between the crime and their son. But she was
beginning to think that would never happen, especially since
she had taken a close look at Theresa's bloodwork and a
recent MRI taken only two months ago after the young mother
had complained about severe migraines. She, like Mulder, had
been having a resurgence of extraordinary brain activity.
And if the notes taken from the child psychologist who had
been treating Ray Hoese Jr. were anything to go by, the
toddler was as special as her own Will. 

A knock at the front door grabbed her attention. With a
groan, she got up off the floor, wincing at the pain in her
knees. Skinner wasn't the only one who wasn't getting any
younger. Quickly, she made her way into the living room. Her
mother, with Will propped on her hip, was looking out the
peephole. She turned to face her daughter as Scully entered
the room.

"It's Mr. Skinner," she said. "He has a couple of women with
him that I don't recognize."

Scully's eyebrows rose as she took her mother's place in
front of the door. Sure enough, it was Skinner. And she
could just make out two women off to the side of her area of
vision. Carefully, she opened the door, but didn't undo the
chain. "Yes?" she asked politely.

"Scully," Skinner replied. "It's just me. Wondering if I
could borrow a cup of sugar."

Scully couldn't help but smile as Skinner recited the phrase
that told her all was well. Frohike had come up with it, of
course. She closed the door, unclasped the chain, and opened
it, allowing the Assistant Director and the two women to
enter. She did not know either of them.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Though Skinner was no longer
her boss, and both Scully and Mulder called him a friend,
she automatically reverted to the 'sir' when others were
present. 

"I thought you should talk to these two ladies," he told
her. "They have information that might be of great
importance to both you and Mulder."

Scully looked at the women. Neither of them were very old.
One had blonde hair, was of moderate height (which was still
taller than Scully), and looked to be in her early forties.
The other was a tall, leggy brunette. She was in her late
twenties, and quick intelligence flashed in her light brown
eyes.

The blonde began speaking. "We're sorry to intrude on you
like this, Agent Scully," she said, her voice husky. "But
when we heard about what happened to Mrs. Hoese, we knew we
had to act."

Scully folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. She glanced at
Skinner, whose expression had yet to change since he had
entered the room, then back at her mother, who was still
holding Will. Her baby's bright hazel eyes were staring
intently at the two women, as if he was trying to figure
them out. Scully looked back at them as well. 

"Who are you?"

The blonde spoke again. She nodded to the taller woman.
"This is Dr. Susan Donohue. She's a pediatrician who
recently set up practice here in DC." She laid her hand flat
on her upper chest. "My name is Greta Olsen. I'm a
Registered Nurse working part time at Georgetown." She
sighed. "We are both employed by an acquaintance of yours."

"Who?" Though she didn't look directly at him, Scully saw
Skinner tense out of the corner of her eye.

"CGB Spender."

Suddenly, Will began to cry.

*****

"Are you sure this is the man?"

Mulder controlled the urge to groan in frustration. Why
couldn't Doggett just admit that the old man knew what he
was talking about? It was so obvious Wilmer Conner
recognized the man in the photo Doggett was holding up if
only because he had known the subject for years.

"Of course I'm sure," the old fart grunted. "I've known that
boy since he was knee high."  

Mulder glanced at Monica, who was looking at him with
laughter in her eyes. He could hear her clearly in his head.
*Do people still talk like this?*

He smiled slightly in response, then brought his attention
back to Doggett. For some reason, the normally competent
agent seemed to be out of his element today. Though Mulder
could read Monica's thoughts when she projected, he knew she
couldn't read his very well, even when he wanted her to.
Still, she must have known by his expression what he was
thinking, because she took over the questioning from her
partner.

"Mr. Conner, no one is denying that you knew this man," she
began. "I think what Agent Doggett is trying to ask is
whether or not you're positive it was this man or someone
who looked very much like him." She sent an apologetic
glance toward Doggett, which Mulder didn't think he
deserved, then turned back to the old man. "Even Mr. Mulder
here could be mistaken for this man from the back." 

Wilmer shook his head, the small amount of white hair still
on his head moving in the faint breeze he created. "Nope. I
didn't see him from the back. I saw him from the front.
Walking toward me. And God help me, all I wanted to do was
run. I know what they say happened to him." He turned pale
blue eyes toward Mulder. "And to you." He shrugged. "But you
ain't got the look in your eyes that he had."

"What kind of look?" Mulder asked softly.

"Evil," the old man gasped. "Pure evil." He shuddered
visibly. "He and Mr. and Mrs. Hoese and so many others were
taken. And Mrs. Hoese, she came back. But, she was never the
same. She was so scared. Scared for her baby." He glared at
Doggett. "And there he was. That boy. I always liked him,
even though I thought he was a little nuts, you know? But,
not this time." he shook his head again. "This time, I knew
he had an agenda, and he planned on fulfilling it, come Hell
or high water."

Mulder opened his mouth to ask another question, but an icy
glare from Doggett stopped him from speaking. Mulder glanced
at Monica again, only to see her hide a smile. She really
seemed to be enjoying the by-play between the two of them,
even if it was nasty. Maybe especially when it was nasty.

"Did you talk to him at all?" Doggett asked, turning back to
face the old man. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No, no," Wilmer said, shaking his head yet again. *He's
gonna get dizzy if he keeps that up,* Mulder thought. Monica
snorted softly. "Didn't even look at me. And that boy was
usually so polite, especially when he was working with the
Sheriff's Department."

"Why didn't you tell us this before now, Mr. Conner?"
Doggett continued. *Now we're getting somewhere,* Mulder
projected, ignoring Monica's answering glare. "We've been in
town for three days now."

Wilmer shrugged. "Didn't really associate him with Mrs.
Hoese's death until last night."

Mulder felt his lip twist in disbelief and he knew the two
agents must be feeling the same thing.

"Really?" Doggett said, sarcasm under control...for now.
"You knew they were both...abductees," he seemed to have a
hard time saying the word, "but you didn't associate his
return with Mrs. Hoese's death?" He shifted forward in his
seat. "I find that hard to believe, Mr. Conner."

The old man's eyes shifted nervously. "Well...maybe I just
didn't want to get involved. I mean, if he could kill a
woman he's been friends with since childhood, what's to keep
him from killing the old man that used to live down the
street from him?"

"Yet," Mulder said, ignoring Doggett's warning look, "you
did come to us. What changed your mind?"

Wilmer sighed. "I'm old. I ain't got much time left anyway.
And I kept thinking about that baby." He looked at Mulder,
his eyes sad. "That poor child. What's he gonna do with that
poor child? I mean, it's not like he don't have a child of
his own. What's he need with Mrs. Hoese's?"

Mulder's eyes met Doggett's startled ones, then they both
looked at Monica. She sat, mouth agape, as shocked as they.

Mulder stood and began to assist Wilmer up from his chair
and out of the room. "Mr. Conner, we can't thank you enough
for your help."

"You're gonna find that baby, aren't you?" the old man
asked. "You're gonna help that little boy?"

"We're going to do our best," Mulder said softly, then
ushered him out of the room. Carefully, he closed the door,
then turned to face the two agents, leaning heavily against
the wooden frame behind him.

"Well."

"Yeah," Monica agreed. "Well."

"A kid?" Doggett whispered. "How come we never knew about a
kid before?"

"Looks like we better find the ex-Mrs. Billy Miles," Mulder
said in reply. "I know I have some questions for her. How
about you guys?"

*****

"Not possible," Scully heard herself say, surprised at the
sandpaper quality her voice had taken and wondering if
anyone had even heard her over Will's incessant wailing.

Her women visitors looked a bit discomfited, but they both
stood their ground.

Scully sank to the edge of the couch, taking deep breaths,
trying to clear her mind. But her son's anger and fear were
palpable, and his cries distracting. She looked up at
Maggie. "Mom?"

Mrs. Scully didn't even hesitate. "Come on, Will. Let's get
you changed and ready for your nap." She turned toward the
bedroom, and soon the baby's cries were muffled behind the
closed door.

Scully faced the women again. "He's dead," she said firmly,
directing her words to the blonde. Greta.

"No, he's not," she said in reply. "Though it was touch and
go for a while." She smiled slightly, and Scully was amazed
to see what appeared to be affection in the woman's eyes.
"He's even getting stronger now. And 'they' know it."

"They?" Scully glanced at Skinner, who was still standing
motionless near the front door.

"The aliens, Agent Scully," the brunette, Susan, said. "When
the replicants first came, they had no leader, no orders.
They were running on instinct, doing everything in their
power to insure their creators' survival." She grimaced.
"Which meant eliminating anything or anyone that was a
serious threat to the colonists."

"Colonists?" Scully scoffed. "Is that what they call
themselves?"

Susan offered her a thin smile. "Just as the English and
Spaniards called themselves 'colonists' before decimating
the native populations of the Americas."

'Good point,' Scully thought, but she said nothing. "So what
do these replicants have to do with Spender?" She was barely
able to spit out the man's name.

"He's their new leader," Greta said, pride in her voice.

Scully couldn't help it. She laughed. Loudly.

Greta frowned. Susan looked as if she was trying not to
laugh along with Scully.

Taking a deep breath, Scully controlled herself. "This is
supposed to make me feel better?" she asked, her anger
growing. "These 'colonists' are bad enough, now they're
being controlled by the Devil. That is supposed to make me
feel better?"

"If you want to keep your son safe, yes," Greta answered,
anger coating her voice. "Why do you think they spared your
son?"

Scully felt a chill run up her back. Shortly after Will's
birth, she had posed that very question to Mulder. "Maybe
he's not what they thought he was," had been his answer. But
when Will's talents had become obvious to them both, the
question had presented itself to them once again, though
they never spoke it outright. "I...I don't know."

"Because Spender told them to," Susan said, her eyes sad.
"He wanted the boy protected. He wants them all protected."

Scully looked at the young doctor. "All? You mean, like
Theresa Hoese's son?"

Susan nodded. "Your son isn't the first, despite what others
may have said. But he is the most powerful, the most perfect
of them all." She folded her arms and moved to the other end
of the couch. With a sigh, she sat down and turned to look
at Scully. "There are ten of them, eight boys and two girls.
All born to abductees who had been tested on *and* who had
been exposed to the vaccines that Spender and the others
were working on. The combination was incredible. It mutates
the DNA of the individuals, making them unique, making
them--"

"More human than human," Scully whispered, remembering
Krycek's words from six months earlier. "But Theresa wasn't
given the vaccine," she argued.

"Yes, she was," Susan explained. "She and others in
Bellefleur were given it instead of the flu vaccine more
than two years ago. Without their knowledge, or course." She
sounded bitter.

"But Spender has somehow 'talked' these replicants into
protecting the children?" Scully asked. "Why? And how?"

"By convincing them the children could be the beginnings of
a new, wonderful race. One that the colonists could use to
advance their own race."

"A slave race, you mean?" 

"No," Susan shook her head. "That's what humans are for."
She looked down at her hands, which she had folded in her
lap. "These children are special. They have high IQ's,
immunities to any and all terrestrial disease, abilities not
even the Grays have. Spender convinced the Grays that these
children are prophets. Sent by a God the Grays abandoned
long ago."

Scully felt her jaw drop. "You mean he started a new
religion among the aliens?!"

Susan smiled slightly. "Yes. And your son is their new
Messiah."

Scully shook her head in disbelief. "He conned them," she
whispered. Eyes flashing, she looked back at the woman next
to her. "You didn't tell me why he wants to protect them."

"That's simple," Greta answered. "He knows these children,
if they survive, can indeed destroy the aliens." She shifted
her weight from one foot to the other. "His 'con', as you
call it, could fall apart at any moment...but he's holding
it together using his own reputation and charisma."

Cancer man? Charisma? Right.

"If these replicants are protecting the children you speak
of, and Theresa Hoese's child is one of them, then why was
she killed? Her child taken?"

Susan looked sad at the mention of Theresa. "She had become
a danger to her child. She was beginning to understand and
fear her little boy's power, and was contemplating ending
his life, and hers, in order to 'save' him. We couldn't let
that happen."

"You had her under such close surveillance that you knew
what she was planning?" Scully said, incredulous.

"Yes," Greta said. "There were Grays in Bellefleur who were
in contact with little Ray through telepathy. The boy let
them know what his mother was thinking." She folded her arms
and gave Scully a not so friendly grin. "They're watching
you, too."

"But they can't reach your son," Susan added, as if trying
to soothe Scully's suddenly pounding heart. "His father is
always in some kind of loose contact with him, and the Grays
risk alerting him to their presence if they try and
communicate with the baby." Her grin was much friendlier
than Greta's. "They're afraid of Mulder. He came away from
his 'experience' very powerful. After all, they didn't plan
on having one of their replacements survive intact."

This comforted Scully only a little. "Why are you telling me
this?"

"We were hoping you could call off your boyfriend," Greta
said. "Call off the investigation in Oregon."

Scully closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I think I
know why you're involved," she said, opening her eyes and
looking at Greta. "Your loyalty to Spender is very clear."
She looked at Susan. "But what about you? How did you get
involved?"

Susan flushed slightly, then she looked Scully straight in
the eye. "My son is one of those children," she whispered.
"I'm Billy Miles' ex-wife."

*****

End Part 3/7

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