Chataqalan: Part 2 (2/2)
by Amanda Wilde (MaybeAmanda)

Continued from page 1


:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~: 
 
Scully knew the light would be blinding when it came, and she was  
not disappointed. Even through closed lids, the sudden jump from  
darkness to fluorescents was almost overwhelming.  
 
"Jesus Christ!" she heard someone - Agent Perez, she thought -  
snarl. He followed this up with something she couldn't  
understand.  
 
"And that's not Spanish either," Monica said. "Bobby, what the  
fuck is going on?"  
 
Scully squinted, waiting for her eyes to grow accustomed to the  
light. They were in a windowless, unpainted cinderblock room,  
perhaps fifteen feet square. The decor would probably best be  
described as 'Early Bunker' - fluorescent strip lights, a large  
practical-but-ugly desk that appeared sturdy enough but had seen  
better days, utilitarian metal and wooden chairs that had been  
scratched, scraped and scarred in every possible way, bookcases  
filled to bursting with books and file folders. Three well- 
armed, solidly-built men stood by the steel bomb door, managing  
to look simultaneously menacing and chastised. The two wearing  
fatigues were vaguely familiar, and Scully suspected these were  
the soldiers who had shared their ride.  
 
"I am so sorry Monica, Agent Scully," Perez said. Scully turned  
to her right, where Perez was on one knee cutting Monica free of  
her bonds. "I told those idiots to take care of you two - " he  
turned to speak to the other three "- *take care of*-" he  
emphasized, "and make sure you didn't do anything crazy, like try  
to run," he said, slicing through the rope holding Monica's  
ankles. "This is not what I meant." 
 
The tallest of the three answered Perez, his tone both  
conciliatory and slightly whiney. Scully didn't know what his  
words were, but his meaning was clear - "But you SAID not to let  
them get away!!"  
 
Perez dismissed the man's comment with a sneer. He was careful to  
stay out of kicking distance, but not, Scully thought, as careful  
as he maybe should have been - as careful as, say, she would  
have been. He either had some reason to expect that Monica  
wouldn't lash out at him, or he was inexperienced when it came to  
holding captives. Or, she thought, he wanted them to believe he  
was inexperienced when it came to holding captives. Whichever it  
was, he was still the one with the large knife and the heavily  
armed heavies, so she hoped Monica wouldn't make any  
unnecessarily foolish moves.  
 
"Reliable goons are just so hard to find, aren't they?" Monica  
answered instead.  
 
"Now, now, that's not nice. They aren't goons. Morons, maybe,"  
he said, rising and circling to the back of Monica's chair and  
crouching low, "but not goons. Goons, by definition, have higher  
IQs. Jesus, Monica, you've chewed up your wrists but good here."  
He raised his head and rattled off some instructions to one of  
his not-goons and the man headed hastily out the door. "Hector's  
going to get you some first aid and a bottle of water," Perez  
said, slicing through the thick cords as if they were no sturdier  
than spider's webs. "The bleeding's stopped, but you're going to  
have an infection if we don't get something on those." 
 
Monica brought her arms forward, hissing from the pain. "Your  
concern is touching, Bobby, really."  
 
"This is probably going to be hard to believe, all things  
considered, but I didn't want you hurt," Perez replied.  
Grimacing, he gently took hold of Monica's arms just below the  
elbows and examined the wounds. Monica hissed again and, very  
gently, he let go. "I don't want you hurt. I really don't."  
 
Feeling bold, Scully said, "You have an odd way of showing it,  
Agent Perez."  
 
Perez looked up, his expression suggesting that, for a moment,  
he'd forgotten Scully was even there. "That may be, Dr. Scully,  
but it's still the truth." He crossed the five or so feet from  
Monica's chair to where Scully was seated, and knelt before her  
brandishing his knife. He paused a moment, carefully making eye  
contact. "I'm going to cut you loose, Dr. Scully," he said,  
turning the blade just enough for light to race along its edge.  
"I strongly suggest you hold still."  
 
Scully gave one sharp nod in reply before looking away. She was  
out-manned and out-gunned and she knew it. The only chance she  
and Monica had of gaining an advantage was by first gaining  
Perez's trust. In the short term, at least, pretending to be  
intimidated might pay off. And listening to what Perez had to say  
might tell her all she needed to know, and with luck, maybe more.  
 
Hector came through the door just as Perez stood and circled Scully's  
chair. Perez said something and Hector moved forward, placing a  
first aid kit and three bottles of water on the desk. 
 
"What language is that, Bobby?" Monica asked. She still sounded  
groggier than Scully would have liked. Monica might have been  
putting it on, trying to make herself seem harmless, but Scully  
knew she couldn't bank on that. Until she had evidence to the  
contrary, she'd have to consider Monica at least slightly out of  
commission.  
 
"That," Perez replied as he easily sliced through the ropes  
holding Scully's wrists, "is Huecha, but you have always been a  
smart cookie, Agent Reyes, and I'm thinking you've already  
guessed that."  
 
The ropes fell away, and, grateful, Scully brought her arms  
forward. Pins and needles raced up and down her limbs, so she  
shook them, trying to jump start her circulation.  
 
"Huecha was in my top three," Monica conceded.  
 
Perez pushed aside some papers and propped himself on the corner  
of the desk, sheathed and then secured his knife and placed it on  
the desktop. "Oh? What were the other two?" he asked with an  
unsettling grin.  
 
Monica shot him glare. "Are you going to kill us?" she asked,  
sounding thoroughly fed-up.  
 
Perez sobered. "Absolutely not," he said. "Monica-"  
 
"Are you just going to annoy us to death?" she interrupted.  
 
Perez leaned forward. "No, smart ass, I'm not planning to annoy  
you to death, either." 
 
"Then can we cut to the chase?" 
 
"You bet," Perez answered. He picked up the first aid kit.  
"Agent Scully? Would you mind? I think Monica might prefer if  
you handled this." He tossed the kit to her.  
 
The kit was what she expected - gauze, tape, blunt nosed  
scissors, alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and, disappointingly,  
no firearms at all. Confused by the way this scene was  
unfolding, she decided to concentrate on what she did know, and  
rose on slightly unsteady legs to examine her friend's wrists  
The wounds, she was relieved to see, looked worse than they  
actually were.  
 
"Okay," Perez began, "the chase: We want your help. We might  
even need your help."  
 
"My help?" Monica said. She drew in a sharp breath as Scully  
wiped alcohol on the abrasions. "You could have just - ow - you  
know - ouch - asked."
"Yours and Agent Scully's," he corrected. 
 
"How could I possibly help you, Agent Perez?" Scully asked, not  
looking up from her task. 'And why,' she added silently, 'would  
I even want to?' 
 
"You know who the Qetual are," he said. "And the Huecha. You  
know what sets them apart. And you know their potential  
significance to, let's say, certain mass vaccination projects."  
 
"What if we do?" Scully wrapped gauze around Monica's left  
wrist.  
 
"You've also figured out that someone, or some group of someones,  
is systematically eliminating them."  
 
"And that would be you?" Monica asked.  
 
Perez blinked. "Me? God no. Look around this room, Monica.  
Those three, myself, maybe three or four dozen here in Mexico,  
two or three dozen others scattered around the US and Canada, a  
handful down into Belize, Costa Rica, Panama maybe - we're it.  
We're all that's left." 
 
"You're Huecha?" Scully asked. Perez's features were decidedly  
more European than Indigenous North American, and all her  
research during the Galpex-Orpheus case supported an undiluted  
Huecha gene pool.  
 
Perez nodded. "My mother's side, but I'm one of the very few, if  
you'll excuse the expression, half-breeds you're going to find." 
 
Scully tied the end of the gauze, then cut the ends neatly,  
contemplating her next move. "So, you're immune?"  
 
Perez nodded. "So are my brother and two sisters. All my  
sisters' kids are immune. None of my brothers are." 
 
"Your son?" Monica asked.  
 
"Peter?" Perez shook his head. "No." 
 
"So how and why do you need our help?" Scully asked.  
 
"And what makes you think kidnapping us was the best way to get  
it?" Monica added.  
 
"Don't think of it as kidnapping," Perez said with a dismissive  
wave. "It's more like, I don't know, having to take a reluctant  
witness into protective custody. They give you a hard time, but  
it's for their own good."  
 
Monica cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  
 
"They tried to kill you today, Monica, or hadn't you noticed?" 
 
"Me?" Monica scoffed. "They blew up Vetkova's tent, Bobby. Maybe  
they were trying to kill her, but -"  
 
Perez nodded. "Her too," he said. "And I have no doubt that  
you, Dr. Scully, would have been next."  
 
It was Scully's turn to scoff. "You think all those explosions  
were simply intended to get rid of us?"  
 
"Not solely, no."  
 
"But I'm not even supposed to be here," Monica said.  
 
"Their main objective, I'd say, was to get rid of evidence, to  
complete the cover-up," he said, "and, yeah, Monica, you are.  
You're here because I wanted you here. I just made it look like  
it was a mistake because I was trying to cover my tracks."  
 
"But why?" Monica asked.  
 
"Because despite the fact that you're stubborn as a mule and  
crazy as a freaking loon half the time, you're an excellent field  
agent and just about the best investigator I know. I needed  
back-up and you were the obvious choice." 
 
Monica blinked at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she  
deadpanned.  
 
"And, of course, you're in this up to your neck," he added.  
 
"What? Up to my neck in what?" she asked. 
 
Scully had finished tending Monica's injuries. "Who is this  
'they', Agent Perez?" she asked.  
 
"They?"  
 
"The people behind the bombing. The ones who want the evidence  
destroyed. That 'they'," she clarified.  
 
"Oh. Them." Perez paused a moment, scratched his cheek. He let  
out a long slow sigh of frustration. "That's an excellent  
question, and one I don't have an easy answer for."  
 
Scully went back to her chair. "Feel free to go with the hard  
answer, then," she said as she sat.  
 
Perez sighed again. "The Germans? The Japanese? Taiwanese?  
Brits? It could be any of them. It may even be none of them."  
 
"That's helpful," Scully assured him.  
 
"Well, okay, fine. Let's start from the start. Aliens are  
planning to colonize the planet, right? We're all agreed on  
that?"  
 
Scully nodded. It was strange to hear anyone else say it out  
loud, but that was the fact of the matter.  
 
"Um, okay, yeah," Monica agreed, sounding a little uncomfortable  
with having to acknowledge it.  
 
"Okay, good. That's usually the hardest part of this whole thing  
to sell," he said with a grin. "Okay, so, their plan is to do  
this by way of something roughly analogous to a virus, which sets  
up in the host body and uses that body as an incubator for a  
bouncing baby alien, killing the host in the process. For about  
the past sixty years, a number of different groups have been  
attempting to develop something like a vaccine. So far, results  
have been mixed. There have been some marked successes -" he said  
with a pointed look at Scully - "but a hell of a lot more  
failures."  
 
Monica nodded. "Go on."  
 
"It's generally assumed that whoever gets there first will have  
all the power imaginable. They'll not only be able to rebuff an  
alien invasion, but they'll have control of the ultimate weapon."  
 
"Which is a pretty good assumption, don't you think?" Scully  
asked.  
 
"It's a fantastic assumption." Perez nodded. "Having a nuke  
will mean nothing once you've got control of both the disease and  
the cure. So, enter my people," he continued. "For reasons no  
one is entirely clear on, our immune systems have evolved in such  
a way that they fight off most infections, bacterial and viral,  
with ease, but they also slough off the alien virus with no ill  
effects whatsoever. There's no thickening of the blood or hyper- 
production of T-cells or other collateral damage that's usually  
been the issue. Back in the mid-1960's, two World Health  
Organization workers, Viktor Vetkov and Zhenya Koslov, were  
trying to eradicate polio in the Huecha Valley, only to discover  
that there was no polio - or much of anything else - to  
eradicate."  
 
"Vetkov?" Scully asked. "Irina's parents?" 
 
Again, Perez nodded. "Yeah. They figured out pretty quickly  
exactly what they were looking at, and just as quickly that there  
wasn't much of anyone they could trust with that discovery. The  
Cold War was still in full swing and they knew their own  
government couldn't be handed that sort of information, and they  
doubted any other government could be, either. Viktor was a  
brilliant young researcher at the time, and had consequently been  
exposed to the alien vaccine research the Russians were doing,  
which he found appalling. His greatest fear, as I understand it,  
was that someone less scrupulous than himself or Zhenya would  
find out that the Huecha are essentially germ fighting machines  
and try to domesticate us like livestock." He paused. "Or do  
something worse."  
 
"Worse?" Monica prompted. 
 
"That someone would figure it out and try to create a scarcity by  
wiping out most of the Huecha population," Scully said, seeing  
the pieces slip into place. "Which is exactly what's happening  
here."  
 
"Exactly what's already happened here," Perez corrected,  
seemingly fighting to keep emotion from his voice. "For  
thousands of years, the Huecha have considered Chataqalan a place  
of power and refuge, a safe haven. They believed no harm could  
come to them there. Somehow, sometime in the last six months,  
someone lured just about all of our people back to Chataqalan,  
and then slaughtered them like sheep. We went from a population  
of several thousand to a few dozen overnight. My aunts, uncles,  
cousins, even my abuela - all of them - gone. And now someone is  
trying to cover it all up."  
 
A heavy silence filled the room.  
 
"God, Bobby, I'm so - " Monica began.  
 
"Why the hell should we believe you?" Scully interrupted.  
 
Perez blinked in surprise. "What?" 
 
"What proof do we have that you aren't actually the person, or  
one of the people, responsible for the massacre?"  
 
"Dana-" Monica sounded horrified.  
 
"Think about it," Scully said. "Say he is Huecha. Say he and  
his friends here really have immunological gold pumping through  
their veins. What's to stop them from wanting to corner the  
market, especially when they are among the very few who know  
there's a market to corner?"  
 
"No!" A voice came from the doorway. "No no no! You have  
everything wrong. It is not like this, even a small bit of it."  
 
"Irina!" Perez jumped to his feet rushed to the door. "You are  
not supposed to be out of bed," he admonished, gingerly wrapping  
an arm around her to lend her support.  
 
Vetkova definitely looked worse for the wear, Scully thought, but  
no where near as bad as Perez had made it sound. For one thing,  
she was up and walking, albeit a little unsteadily, and with a  
large cast on her ankle. For another, this was definitely not the  
surgical suite at the hospital in Veracruz.  
 
"I was listening," she said. "Dr. Scully, Dana, you do not  
understand."  
 
"No," Scully agreed. "I guess I really don't."  
 
"Bobby is telling you the truth. For many years, Bobby and I  
have worked together, trying to keep the secret of the Huecha ,  
trying to find the vaccine," she said, swaying. Perez led her to  
a chair close to the other two women and helped her lower  
herself. "We want to find this vaccine, we want to distribute  
it freely, for everyone. This is all we work for."  
 
"So you say," Scully said. "But this elaborate ruse -"  
 
"There's no ruse, elaborate or otherwise," Perez said, propping  
himself back on the corner of the desk, but keeping a watchful  
eye on Vetkova. "If Doctor Casselman and Doctor Richards hadn't  
been killed, it might have been months before anyone discovered  
what had happened. Since they were high profile and disappeared  
in an area under UNESCO scrutiny, UNESCO, like any great  
unthinking bureaucracy moved in. DuFour hasn't got a clue, and  
Castillo, well, he's no more or less corrupt than you'd expect.  
No, whoever is responsible for the massacre didn't have time to  
bury all the evidence, and now they're trying to make it all go  
away, using drug runners and warlords and rival gangs as cover."  
 
"And you just happened to get assigned to the case?" Scully  
questioned.  
 
"Of course not," Perez said. "I volunteered as a way of doing  
damage control. And I volunteered Monica while I was at it, and  
then I volunteered you."  
 
"Me?" Scully asked.  
 
"Well, Irina volunteered you," he replied. "I just did what I  
was told to do."  
 
"It is a good thing in a husband, no?" Vetkova asked.  
 
"Husband?" Monica asked. "What? You two are married?"  
 
"Three years now," Perez replied. He smiled fondly at Vetkova.  
"It seemed to make some kind of sense at the time."  
 
Scully turned her gaze on Vetkova. "Why me, Irina?" she asked.  
 
"You and Mulder, you are trying to create a vaccine also, yes?"  
 
Taken aback, Scully didn't know what to say. She really didn't  
think anyone had been paying attention. Her mouth opened, but no  
words came out, and she shut it again.  
 
"We know you are, Dr Scully," Perez said. "Trust me, we go out  
of our way to find out who else is in the game."  
 
Cautiously, Scully said. "It's something we're considering."  
 
"And you know the problems?"  
 
Scully nodded. "Some of them."  
 
"Everyone thought it would be an easy thing to do, to vaccinate  
against the Black Cancer, to engineer immunity. Enough money,  
enough manpower, enough human guinea pigs - anything is possible,  
yes? For every advance that has been made, though, there is a new  
problem," Vetkova said. "Sometimes more than one new problem.  
Sometimes the new cure is many times worse than the disease."  
 
"That's what our research has shown so far, too."  
 
"Yes," Irina said. "For a long time, it seemed to everyone that  
you and Mulder, you were like us, interested in free  
distribution, in making the vaccine available to all, yes?"  
 
As far as Scully knew, that was still their aim. "Go on," Scully  
said, uncertain where this was going.  
 
"Recently, you are bringing more people in, and there have been  
incidents. We have seen - Bobby, you have the pictures, yes?"  
 
Perez shuffled through a folder. "Here," he said, extending two  
photos to Scully.. "Do you know these people?"  
 
Scully looked at the first photo. It was a surveillance photo of  
J.D Crawford and Phoebe Green, taken from high above the  
street they walked down. Probably from when J.D. was in England,  
she surmised. The second showed Phoebe and Simon Fisher sitting  
across from one another in an outdoor cafe.  
 
Scully handed the photos back, and Perez passed them to Monica.  
"Yes," she said, feeling her stomach knot. "I know them."  
 
"Phoebe Green's been on our radar a long while," Perez  
explained. "She's been associated with a group that's made a lot  
of progress on the vaccine for several years now. What their  
actual aims are is still a little murky, but let's say she and  
her group are of special interest. This guy - "  
 
"That's J. D. Crawford," Monica said.  
 
Perez nodded. "And word has it that he's working with you and  
Mulder now, Dr. Scully."  
 
Scully nodded. "But the other man, Simon. I only met him here.  
How does he fit in?"  
 
"Drew works with us, yes, but also for Interpol," Vetkova began.  
"This is the man he is watching at Scotland Yard." 
 
"Why is he watching him?" Monica asked. 
 
"Simon's got a lot of access, and a lot of connections, but he's  
been associated with some of the less savory vaccine research  
groups, including Ms. Green's," Perez explained. "And he's a  
long-time associate of this man," he handed her another photo.  
"Do either of you know him?"  
 
Scully looked at the photo and shook her head, passed it to  
Monica. "No idea," Monica said for both of them.  
 
"His name is Stephen Strughold. Ring any bells?"  
 
"Strughold?" Scully sighed. "Entirely too many."  
 
"Strughold's group is about as dirty as they can be on this and,  
as I am sure you know, Dr. Scully, several other things." 
 
"Corn," she said. "Bees. Smallpox."  
 
"To name just a few," Perez said. "Because of your association  
recently with Phoebe Green, there are certain people, people who  
are thinking you and Mulder, how do you say? Have gone to the  
dark side, yes?" Irina said.  
 
"Which is ridiculous," Monica all but spat at her. "I told you  
that before."  
 
Scully's brows shot up at this. "Before?"  
 
Monica nodded. "She told me Drew thought you were the  
infiltrator. I told her Drew was wrong."  
 
"We think Drew's wrong too. We haven't quite convinced him of  
that yet, but we're going to." Perez said. "I've known Mulder  
for years, followed his work. He's always been a complete boy  
scout, he's always done the right thing, even when it wasn't in  
his best interest. Mulder wouldn't acknowledge the dark side if  
it bit him on the ass." 
 
In spite of herself, Scully grinned, just a little. It was an apt  
description. "So what do you want from us?" she asked.  
 
"We want, for lack of a better word, to form an alliance, Dr.  
Scully," Perez said. "A syndicate of our own."  
 
"Meaning what, exactly?" Scully asked.  
 
"Whoever is responsible for this massacre is either desperate or  
cocky. I'm guessing desperate, but either way, they've stepped  
up their game and we've got to step up ours accordingly. In  
short, we want your help to develop the vaccine," Perez said.  
"We want your help, and we want to help you."  
 
Scully frowned. "You appear to be light years ahead of us on  
that one, so what do you need us for?"  
 
Perez took a deep breath, and let it out. "You and Mulder have  
something we need. And we have something you need."  
 
Scully shook her head in confusion. "What do we have- "  
 
"Oh god," Monica said. "William? That's it, isn't it? William?"  
 
"No, not William," Perez said, holding up a forestalling hand.  
"Of course not William. Just - just a few of William's  
antibodies. Just a little blood - a very little blood."  
 
Scully felt her mouth fall open. "Are you insane?"  
 
"There is no harm," Irina said. "A small amount of blood, maybe  
two or three times each year."  
 
"No," Scully said flatly, her pulse racing. "No way."  
 
"Do not say no so soon," Vetkova said. "We will trade, yes?  
You give us antibodies from William, we give you antibodies from  
Nadya." 
 
"Nadya?" Monica asked. "That's -"  
 
"Our daughter," Bobby said. "Both she and William are immune,  
both have naturally occurring immunity. Nadya appears to have  
gotten hers from me, defying all the evidence that shows  
transmission in the Huecha is through the mother. Irina has told  
you, Monica, that she was an abductee, that's she's chipped, and  
that may have something to do with what's happened in Nadya's  
case, but who knows." 
 
"But-" Monica began.  
 
"Dr Scully was given one form of the vaccine when she was in  
Antarctica. Mulder was given another form when he was in Russia.  
The two immunities combined to somehow prove Lamarck right. Your  
acquired immunity and Mulder's acquired immunity got passed on.  
As a result, there's a lot of knowledge to be had. We think  
we're the ones who should have it, Dr Scully."  
 
"No way." Scully shook her head. "My son isn't going to be  
anyone's science fair project. Forget it."  
 
"Dr. Scully, if we have figured this out, don't you think others  
have?" Perez asked. "Don't you think maybe one of the other  
groups - the Germans maybe, or the Japanese, or hell, the Mumbai  
group - don't you think maybe they'll make the connection, put  
two and two together, and not bother to ask for what they want?  
If William is like Nadya, you'll know when they're coming, sure,  
but a child kicking up a fuss won't stop them forever. The sooner  
we join forces, the sooner we get to the finish line on this, and  
the sooner both our children will be out of harm's way."  
 
Scully's impulse was to say no again and damn the consequences.  
She didn't appreciate coercion, however gentle, and she didn't  
appreciate threats, however thinly veiled. William wasn't going  
to be a pawn in anyone's game, not if she could help it.  

The only problem with all that was, she realized, was that if  
Perez and Vetkova were telling the truth - and the more they  
said, the stronger their case became - they were right. Right  
about everything. 
 
Which meant -  
 
"How do you know that?" she asked at last, her voice small and  
shaky. "How do you know he's immune? How did you find out?"  
 
"There isn't much you or Mulder do that flies below the radar,  
Dr. Scully. Not for years, now." Perez sighed, but it was a  
sympathetic sound. "Welcome to the big leagues."  
 
Scully took a deep breath. She'd known this, of course. On some  
level, she'd known, always known, that there were people taking  
notes, watching them through pinhole cameras, listening at every  
keyhole -  
 
Listening -  
 
"That's what you meant," Scully said to Irina. "When you said  
there were noisy bugs in my tent. You meant we were being  
bugged, that someone was listening."  
 
Irina nodded. "It was not us, but someone, yes, someone was  
listening. We tried to block transmissions, but that made all  
the communications equipment not to work also. What you said,  
whatever it was, these people heard you. It was enough to make  
them try to remove you."  
 
"I see," Scully said. She swallowed, finding her throat dry. "I  
can't - this isn't something - it's not a decision I can make  
alone, I mean. It's not - it's not mine alone to make."  
 
Perez nodded. "Of course."  
 
"I'll need more to show Mulder," she continued, "something more  
than photos and supposition. Something to prove -"  
 
"You have proof," Irina said. "In the egg."  
 
"In the-?" Scully's hand flew to her pocket. She pulled out the  
Pysanky keyring Irina had given her and cradled it in her palm.  
"A gift for William?" she said, remembering what Vetkova had told  
Monica.  
 
Vetkova nodded. "A vial of blood. Nadya's blood. The key to a  
free world, perhaps. It is a good gift for any child, no?"  
 
Scully nodded, comprehension dawning. Irina had risked  
everything to get this to her, had even bucked members of her own  
team, and at that point she hadn't asked for anything in return.  
She was just another mother who wanted a better world for her  
child, one way or another. In that, she and Scully were exactly  
alike. "Yes," she said. "Yes, it is."  
 
"Take that," Perez said, "and this -" he handed her a flash drive  
"- and show them to Mulder. Let him look it all over. Test  
what's in that vial. Figure out what's what. Then you two can  
decide if you want in or not. We'll respect your decision either  
way, of course, but we'll consider you rivals if you chose to be  
out."  
 
"Just like that? Monica asked. "You're just going to let us walk  
out of here with something this potentially important?"  
 
Perez nodded. "Yes we are. It's your decision to make, but I'm  
pretty confident you'll make the right one. When you've decided  
where you want to be, in or out, tell Skinner to contact me  
about, I don't know, let's say the Lamarck case. We'll take it  
from there." He stood. "Okay, so, anyone else tired?" he asked.  
"I have you two booked on an eight a.m. flight out of Veracruz, and  
it's already after two am. What say we all hit the sack? Or  
would you rather spend the night in those chairs?"  
 
"Bobby, wait, " Monica said. "I - what - how do I fit in here?  
You said I was in this up to my neck, but -"  
 
Perez nodded. "You are," he said.  
 
"How?" she asked.  
 
"You're very closely associated, for good or ill, with Mulder and  
Dr. Scully. If you aren't already on everyone's radar, you soon  
will be. Therefore - - "  He let the sentence hang as he helped  
Vetkova back to her feet.  
 
"Oh," Monica said. "That's it?" 
 
"Well, no, not exactly." Perez shook his head. "I think maybe  
we're family. Distant cousins, at least."  
 
Monica frowned. "What are you talking about?" 
 
"You were adopted," he said.  
 
"By my paternal grandparents," she said. "After my parents  
died."  
 
Perez shook his head. "Before that."  
 
"What? Before that? What?"  
 
"Monica," Perez picked up another folder. "You're going to want  
to read this."  
 
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~ 
 
 
Scully found Mulder in the study, all bed-head and crumpled tee- 
shirt and boxer briefs, peering through his glasses at the  
computer screen.  
 
"Hey," he said. "Sorry if I woke you."  
 
Scully cinched her bathrobe belt a little tighter. "S'okay," she  
said with a yawn. "It's past time I was up, anyway."  
 
"It's barely six-thirty," Mulder replied, "and it's a no-school day for  
you, Skinner's orders. His lordship is still sleeping, and I can  
handle him when he finally does wake up. Go back to bed, Scully.  
You still look beat."  
 
Scully dropped down onto the couch, and, in spite of herself,  
yawned again. She'd been home three days, but yes, she was still  
tired. "I'm fine," she said.  
 
Mulder rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen.  
 
"I am," she said. "Really."  
 
"Okay," he said. "There's coffee in the carafe if you want some.  
It's not too old. And don't say I didn't offer on the extra sleep  
thing."  
 
"I wouldn't dream of it," she said. "You going through the data  
again?"  
 
Mulder nodded. "This is amazing stuff. Years of work. I can't  
believe they just gave it to you."  
 
Scully shrugged. "I know, but -"  
 
"No," Mulder interrupted. "I mean I really can't believe they  
just 'gave' it to you. I keep thinking there has to be a catch."  
 
"There is a catch." Scully frowned. "They want to use William  
as a pin cushion."  
 
Mulder stopped scrolling. "Not exactly," he said. "As much as  
anything, they want to share information. They wouldn't want  
any more blood than we've been talking about drawing anyway. And  
they've already been down a lot of avenues of research that we  
haven't even thought about. And from what I can tell, we have  
information that would complement theirs quite nicely.  Partnering  
with them could save us both a lot of time and grief. And Bobby,  
he's always been a stand-up guy. It just seems, I don't know, a  
little too generous."  
 
Scully nodded. "Perez said he thought some of the other factions  
were getting desperate. Irina and he want to protect their  
daughter. Their generosity is probably motivated by enlightened  
self-interest."  
 
"Isn't just about everything, in the end?" Mulder asked. "This  
is wild about Monica."  
 
"Yeah," she said, take a moment to stretch. "No one had ever  
bothered to tell her she'd been adopted. Or, well, they told  
her, but they figured telling her once covered all instances, I  
guess." 
 
"So she's Huecha," Mulder said. "And she's immune. And she's  
been right here, being her weird little self, all this time."  
 
"Half-Huecha, but fully immune, yes, and willing to be stuck like  
a voodoo doll. Excellent qualities in a friend. And you've got  
some nerve calling anyone weird."  
 
"It's a small, strange world, Scully. And it seems to be getting  
smaller and stranger."  
 
"Just when I was beginning to think there was no stranger for it  
to get."  
 
"And surprise! Phoebe's dirty," Mulder mumbled. "Or her  
associates are. Who didn't see that coming?"  
 
"You didn't," she answered.  
 
"Yeah, but you did, so at least our bases were covered," he  
replied.  
 
She slumped back into the sofa, and, tilting her head back,  
stared up at the ceiling. "So what do you think we should do?"  
 
Mulder turned in his chair. "Have breakfast," he suggested. "I'm  
jonesing for some French Toast. I'll even cook." 
 
"Goof. I meant about Perez and Vetkova."  
 
"Goof? Goof?! Me? How dare you."  
 
It was Scully's turn to roll her eyes, so she did. "You're  
nuts." 
 
Mulder's brows rose. "I am? Gee, no one's ever even suggested that  
before."  
 
"Go figure." She was struck again by how nice it was to be able  
to sit like this, trade quips and make small talk and discuss  
saving the world in the comfort of their own home, with dirty  
dishes in the sink and their son sleeping just a few feet away.  
Sometimes she still felt like she should pinch herself, like she  
should be pinching herself every minute of every day. They'd  
been through plenty, sacrificed plenty, but they'd gotten plenty  
in return. She'd forgotten that, occasionally, but she didn't  
plan to forget it again.  
 
"Seriously," she said after a moment.  
 
"Seriously, Scully, despite my minor misgivings, I think we want  
to be in. Or at least want to explore being in. I think we  
should contact Bobby. I think we need to talk."  
 
"Me too," she said.  
 
"Then we're agreed," he said, "French Toast now, saving the world  
after breakfast."  
 
"Sounds good," Scully said as she stretched again. "And who knows,"  
she drawled, "maybe we can, I don't know, find time to squeeze a  
little something in between the breakfast and the world-saving,  
hmmm?"  
 
Mulder's brows rose, then he closed his eyes tightly and crossed  
his fingers. "Please don't let her say laundry, please don't let  
her say laundry, please don't let her say laundry," he chanted.  
He opened his eyes, looking at her expectantly.  
 
"Laundry!"  
 
Mulder glowered. "You are a cruel, cruel woman, Dana Scully."  
 
She nodded. "I am. But you love me anyway."  
 
"More than anything," he said sincerely, his words bringing a  
sudden surge of emotion. 'But you know that."  
 
Scully swallowed. "I do," she said. . So feed me, already, and  
then we can get to the good stuff."  
 
Mulder didn't have to be told twice.  
 
:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~: 
 
The End.  
 
No, really.  
 
 
Notes: Thanks to anyone and everyone who hung in there this long.  
Life - it's crazy shit. Special thanks to Tess, Char, and the  
rest of the Truthseekers team for putting up with me, in spite  
of their better judgment. Kudos to Syn, Amy, Weyo, Fatima, and  
the rest of the usual suspects. Without you, I'm nothing.