TITLE: To Have It All by Kel ckelll@hotmail.com (note- 3 L's in ckelll) RATING: PG-13 CATEGORY: SRH SPOILERS: Colony/Endgame. References to other episodes. KEYWORDS: MSR ARCHIVING: I'd be flattered. Please keep my name on it and let me know. DISCLAIMER: Honestly, if Fox Mulder belonged to me, do you think I'd be sitting around telling myself stories? Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and Kim Cook belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and FOX. I make no money from their use, and precious little from any other source. SUMMARY: It's the early days of the Mulder/Scully romance, and they can't get enough. Not if they want to keep their jobs. I've wondered for a while now how to make sense of Scully's joining the FBI directly from med school. Why did she decide not to practice medicine? See how you like my explanation. It helps if you remember the '80s. FEEDBACK: It's so pathetic. I check my e-mail at least once an hour, and nothing. Drop me a line, even if you didn't read it. The biggest change since Dana Scully and Fox Mulder had let their bodies get as close as their hearts and minds was that he was sleeping a lot better and she was sleeping a lot less. She had decided from the start that it would be ''too weird'' for them to wake up together and go in to work together, and he had agreed wholeheartedly. She didn't think this would be a problem. Mulder slept maybe four hours a night; instead of hanging around and waking her up,he could go home. That arrangement broke down the morning she woke up encircled in his arms with his leg across her. The clock radio was blasting and she couldn't even get to it. Shades of Queequeg and Ishmael! He ignored her attempts to awaken him, even though they both knew he was awake by now, until she'd very quietly threatened to hurt him. He'd gotten to the shower first, and she decided it would be most efficient to join him. It might have been efficient if she'd kept her mind on the task at hand. As it was, they were lucky no one got hurt. They'd arrived at work together, late, and with big coprophagous grins. So last night she'd gone to his place. Bouncing him out had become so difficult she thought it would be easier if she was the one to leave. she thought as she got up out of it. If she hurried home she'd be able to sleep another couple of hours before heading in to work. She was pulling on her jeans when he'd called to her. ''I've got to go, Mulder,'' she said. ''Don't defy me, woman. Get over here.'' So of course she had to go over and set him straight. By the time she'd taught him a lesson and he had acknowledged her supremacy, it was five-thirty. She arrived at work very early and very tired. She started plowing through the accumulated scutwork when the phone rang. It wasn't Mulder. ''Dr. Scully, this is Sheriff Mike Schmidt from Schuyler, New York. We have a death here that seems to meet your profile.'' He told her about a dead body with no marks on it and a laboratory finding of ''atypical idiopathic agglutination.'' ''I know you people want to be notified of deaths involving thickened blood,'' the sheriff said. She asked him about the coroner's findings, and he told her that he'd been unable to get a post-mortem exam because of some legal maneuverings. Schuyler University was the dominant political and economic force in his town, and for some reason they were intent on limiting his investigation. He told her that the emergency department at the hospital had informed him of the unusual lab results. She asked him to fax her the lab reports and told him she would be in touch. Death involving thickened blood. There had been one. Special Agent Weiss of the Syracuse office, killed by the shapeshifter bounty hunter with an alien virus. There had almost been a second one. Special Agent Fox Mulder. Usually Scully reviewed the literature on medical conditions that figured into their investigations, but she wouldn't need to this time. Dana Scully, MD, was the world authority on the treatment of the alien coagulopathy retrovirus. Scully allowed herself a minute to let the fear engulf her. The bounty hunter, with his poisonous green blood, who could look like any human but was stronger than any human. The virus, faster than any native virus. She had beaten it once, or Mulder had, defeated it with cold and plasma and a combination of antiviral medications. What if she pretended she never got the call? What if she and Mulder took a nice winter vacation, maybe someplace very far away, maybe some island without phones.... More seriously, what if she left Mulder home on this one? He'd already been exposed to the virus and he might be at much greater risk. The blood thickening occurred when the body defended against the intruder, and Mulder's immune system was already sensitized. But she wasn't going to do any of those things, not even ditch Mulder. The two of them had decided they could have it all, a professional partnership and a personal union. Mulder arrived around eight-thirty. Scully passed him the paper bag with his breakfast and made her announcement. ''Pack your snowshoes, Mulder, we're going to Schuyler, New York.'' Mulder put down his bagel. ''Get over here, woman! Don't defy me,'' he said. ''It's not going to happen,'' she said, but she couldn't help laughing. ''Besides, we're working.'' That was the linchpin of their plan to have it all. Never during work. Never let the personal intrude on the professional. Never do anything to each other that they wouldn't do with any other agent, even that weasel Spender. ''Okay. What's in Schuyler?'' he asked. She told him. ''Shit,'' he said, his mind racing. ''Scully, we can have the body sent to Quantico, once it's cleared, and you can do your autopsy there. I'll go up to Schuyler, I have a resistance to the virus now.'' He knew she wouldn't agree and she didn't. ''I think this may not be the alien virus at all,'' Scully said. She'd received the sheriff's fax. ''The hematology results are quite different in this case. The red cell count is normal here, where the alien virus causes polycythemia. There are other differences as well.'' Mulder was getting his coat. ''I'll meet you at National,'' he said. ''I'll even stop off and pick up your bag.'' They both kept packed suitcases ready. ''Mulder, I want you to listen to me very carefully,'' Scully said. ''I'm going to ask you where you're going. You're going to tell me. If I don't get an answer, I'll meet you at the airport all right. But first I'm going to stop at your place and kill your fish.'' She sounded serious. Mulder hated it when his fish died, and he really had nothing to hide. ''One of Cohen's aides at the DOD,'' he began. ''She suspects there's some covert support of biological warfare within the department. Schuyler was one of the universities that might be connected. I want to talk to her before we go.'' ''There now,'' Scully purred at him. ''That wasn't so bad, was it? And no fish had to die.'' *********************************************************** Empire Flight 807 The noisy little prop plane was like a school bus with wings. Mulder said something she couldn't hear, then leaned over to shout it in her ear. ''They're following the road.'' He was stuffed into the seat by the window with his knees practically in his chest. Out the window she could see the New York State Thruway below them. Looking through the passageway to the cockpit she saw an open road atlas. Perhaps she should have been worried about their safety, but she was simply too uncomfortable. Conversation was impossible on this long, loud flight. She wanted to touch him, either rub his shoulders, or maybe poke him somewhere he wouldn't be able to ignore, but they were working. Working with Mulder had always been like walking a tightwire. Working with him and hiding their intimacy was like juggling machetes while walking a tightwire. Mulder twisted away from the window, shifted his weight and flung his leg over hers. She turned her head to shout in his ear. ''Spender.'' ''I just need more room,'' he shouted back. ''I would do the same thing if Spender was sitting there.'' This last bit of nonsense didn't rate an answer, but she answered anyway. ''Would Spender oblige you with a little massage?'' She kneaded his inner thigh. His lips brushed her cheek on the way to her ear. ''Spender better be willing to make good on this tonight,'' he told her. The Spender guideline was not working. ************************************************************* Sheriff's office Clark County Courthouse Schuyler, New York Sheriff Schmidt's office was furnished entirely in gray metal, from the desk to the filing cabinets to the chairs. He had little to add to what he'd already told them. He waited patiently while they read over his reports and findings. The deceased was Gabriel Gilka, Ph.D., 42, assistant professor of engineering at Schuyler University. He had been in the home of Glenn Castelano, Ph.D., 57, professor of human anatomy, late Monday night. The sheriff seemed to find that odd in itself. ''The Castelanos aren't much for casual entertaining,'' he said. ''They're kind of fussy; you got to take your shoes off before you walk on their carpet, that kind of thing. All I can think of is that Glenn was celebrating his wife being out of town.'' Around ten-thirty, two more scientists came to the house. ''Just dropped in!'' the sheriff had written. Castelano met them at the door and told them Gilka was dead. ''Just dropped dead'' said Sheriff Schmidt's notation. The older of the two was Tommy Schoen, MD, Ph.D. Scully was impressed. ''Oh my God, Mulder, Tommy Schoen! You know, as in the Schoen valve, the Schoen procedure, the Schoen approach...'' Evidently Schoen, nearly 80, was a big man in medicine and in biomedical engineering. The man with him was Alexander Korsakov, Ph.D.. Korsakov had attempted CPR. ''I know him too,'' said Scully. ''Sure, Korsakoff's amnesia,'' said Mulder. This was a condition resulting from long-term alcohol abuse and thiamin deficiency. As a psychologist, Mulder was familiar with it. ''I mean I know him personally,'' Scully said. ''From U of Maryland.'' ''Would he remember you?'' Mulder asked. He was thinking that if Korsakov recognized Scully, they would know he wasn't the shapeshifter. The shapeshifter would also recognize Scully, of course, but he wouldn't admit it. ''Definitely. But we didn't part on good terms.'' ''Did these guys have anything in common besides being on the faculty?'' Mulder asked the sheriff. ''Were they working on something together?'' ''They were all involved in something called Project Activator,'' Schmidt said. ''Good luck finding out what that is. Now, there is one more thing I want to tell you. Before I got the call about Gilka, I got a call from one of the neighbors. He said there was a bright blue light over Castelano's house.'' ''What do you make of that?'' Scully asked the sheriff. ''I don't have a clue. I guess if you watch enough TV, you'd think it was something about UFOs,'' he said. ''Let's start with your old friend Korsakov,'' Mulder said. ************************************************************** They decided to get lunch before continuing. Scully groaned when Mulder pulled in to a convenience store parking lot. ''Let me guess,'' she said. ''Your turn to buy.'' Their little game of ''who's buying'' predated their personal liaison, and Scully wished they would drop it. When they were on their own time, Mulder would dive for the check like Patrick Ewing going for a loose ball. On the job, he would pull stunts like this. She decided to wait for him in the car. ''Get me a yogurt, any normal flavor,'' she told him, ''and a diet soda, Sprite if they have it, but don't get Seven-Up. If they don't have Diet Sprite, get root beer or cream, but not Dr. Pepper..." One time when he went for soda, she had asked for ''something sweet.'' Generally she was not superstitious, but she would never do that again. She was more specific now. He opened her door. ''Come get it yourself,'' he said. ''You think apricot is a normal flavor.'' She followed him out, remembering that he thought granola choco-crunch was a normal flavor. They ate in the car. ''My turn to buy means buy lunch,'' Mulder said. ''I expect you to eat that Chapstick.'' ''I was going to let you eat it,'' she said, examining Mulder's choices. ''Look at this, Mulder, generic Twinkies, too vile to pass for real Twinkies. But it is amazing the way you can eat that chili dog without getting any on-- oh, well.'' ''You had to say it, didn't you,'' he said, rubbing his tie with a napkin. To an outside observer, Mulder thought, they would have looked and sounded as they did before. The camaraderie and the banter were the same. What was gone was the longing and confusion. he thought, ''Scully,'' he said as they drove to Korsakov's house, ''since we now practice open communication even to the point of ichthyicide, tell me about you and Alexander Korsakov.'' ''Ichthyicide? Oh, yeah, your fish. Sandy Korsakov and I were friends. We spent a lot of time together my first two years at Maryland, then we drifted apart. He was older and he was in grad school, but I got tired of him telling me what to do. He was dead set against me going to medical school, but then when I graduated and joined the bureau, he was totally opposed to that too.'' ******************************************************* Mulder watched Korsakov intently as they entered his small house. There was no doubt that he recognized Scully at once. He and Scully stared at each other, leaving it to Mulder to make the introductions. Finally, Scully extended her hand and they shook stiffly, still locked together by the eyeballs. ''Oh, what the hell,'' Scully said at last, and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace. ''I guess we're still friends,'' Sandy said. ''Come on in.'' Scully and Korsakov began to reminisce feverishly, oblivious to Mulder, who listened in fascination. It sounded like Scully used to do some big-time swinging. ''Those strait-laced Haverford boys! You taught them a thing or two,'' Sandy said. ''Couldn't have done it without you, Coach.'' ''And Georgetown,'' Sandy said. ''They were glassy-eyed in the end.'' ''Well, I think Susan and Satomi have to get some of the credit,'' Scully said. ''By the way, are you seeing anyone... in particular?'' ''What you're really asking is, am I still picking up guys in bars. That scene is gone, Dana. Not that it's any of your business,'' Korsakov said. ''Are you seeing anyone special?'' ''I've got a great idea,'' said Mulder. ''Tell us about the night Gabriel Gilka died, and then I can leave you two here to catch up.'' Korsakov looked at him as if he had forgotten he was there. ''I don't have anything new to tell,'' he said. ''Tommy Schoen and I went over to Glenn's around ten-thirty. Glenn was standing in his doorway. He told us that Gabe was dead. I thought it was a set-up for a practical joke or something, until he actually let me into his living room with my shoes on. I went in and did CPR until the rescue squad got there, but it didn't help.'' Questioned by Mulder, Korsakov denied seeing a blue light. Mulder asked him about Project Activator. ''Look, you guys, I had to sign about fifty statements that I'd never tell anyone,'' Korsakov said. ''I don't know what I'm allowed to say. Can't you just go back to the Defense Department and get it from them? You work for the same government, don't you?'' ''Yeah, great idea,'' Mulder said. ''Scully, if you want to stay awhile, I'll go talk to Dr. Schoen. I'll give you a call when I'm done.'' ''He might even tell you what you want to know,'' Sandy said. ''But don't call him Dr. Schoen. Everyone calls him Tommy, even the undergrads.'' Mulder had driven only a couple of miles when Scully phoned him. A judge had ruled that the autopsy on Gilka should proceed. He swung back to pick her up. ''I think he's lying,'' Mulder said when she got in the car. ''I hope not, Mulder. It drove me crazy, the way he'd be with a different man every night. I couldn't stand it if he got AIDS.'' ''I meant he was lying about the blue light. He saw it, all right, or he knows something about it,'' he said. ''It looks like we're up against the Pentagon again,'' Scully said. She didn't have to mention their sorry track record in that situation. ''My little buddy at DOD says they're cutting out of all the suspicious programs, all the bio-weapons projects,'' he said. Scully started to laugh. It was the desperate, almost hysterical laugh that overcame her very occasionally. ''I got it, Mulder,'' she said when she could speak. ''The Defense Department hired the alien bounty hunter to get rid of the scientists from their illegal programs.'' ''Very funny,'' Mulder said. To Have It All 2/4 Schuyler Medical Center Schuyler, New York Mulder was in the familiar position of watching Scully do her thing, dressed up in a gown and cap with a clear shield over her face. She looked beautiful like that. Whenever she was really concentrating on something, Mulder found her totally enticing. That was the main reason she'd no longer did her own income tax. She pulled something long and red and squiggly out of her patient and dropped it in a steel basin. ''This is totally different from what we saw with Agent Weiss,'' she said. Her relief was immeasurable. She knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions, but everything in front of her indicated that the alien virus was not involved. ''I think we can rule out the alien virus.'' Mulder felt the fear dissipate from his jaw and neck. ''Thank you,'' he said, as if she had personally disposed of the alien bounty hunter. She began to explain her findings. He liked her hair pulled back that way. He could do without the gown. It hid her shape completely. How would you describe her shape? Well, shapely. Magnificent. Her breasts were so terrific. You really couldn't tell until she undressed, and then, Surprise! So full and generous, he really didn't deserve them. Scully was at war with her breasts, though. She didn't like how they flattened out when she was on her back. When she was on top, she thought they sagged too much. She spent as much time thinking about her breasts as he did, although she probably wasn't thinking about them right now. In fact she was talking to him. ''So I need to be in Stockholm by Friday or the first runner-up gets the Nobel Prize for Mathematics,'' she was saying. ''Scully, there is no Nobel Prize in mathematics.'' ''As I was saying, Mulder, these coiled blood clots are unlike any I've seen before. Definitely unlike the polycythemia and emulsification we saw with the alien virus.'' ''Any idea what could have caused it?'' ''I'll have the hematology lab check for unusual clotting factors, but I don't think they'll find any. The differential white count doesn't indicate any viral, bacterial, or immunological aberrations. The tox screen was negative. I don't think this clot formation would occur naturally.'' ************************************************************* Roosevelt Hall Schuyler University Tommy Weiss's office was in Roosevelt Hall, on the main quadrangle of the campus. Mulder had to park in the far end of the parking lot. They followed the asphalt path to the quad, skirting the few patches of ice. They stepped off the path to let a large group of boisterous students surge by. ''Were we ever that young?'' Scully asked. ''Apparently you were,'' Mulder said. ''I'm not sure I understand this thing you had with Sandy.'' ''They call it friendship, Mulder. We'd go to a club or two, or see a concert, that kind of thing. Or stuff with his family. He'd told them he was gay years ago, but he still found it easier to drag me along than show up with a man.'' Tommy's office was on the second floor, and he waved them in when he saw them through his open door. ''Good afternoon,'' he said. ''Whom do you represent?'' They took out their credentials and made their introduction. ''Oh,'' he said. ''FBI. No free pens, mugs, or tote bags.'' He had taken them for salesmen or publisher's reps. Mulder gave him some plastic pilot's wings, which he refused, but Scully had her ''Five Years'' employee pin rattling around in her pocketbook, and he accepted that happily. ''Now, what can I do for you?'' he asked. Scully wondered about the mental status of this childlike old man, but she knew Mulder would plunge right in with questions. As Schoen spoke, Scully concluded he was eccentric and uninhibited but unimpaired. Mulder's questions elicited the now familiar account of Schoen and Korsakov dropping in on Castelano at ten-thirty. Then Mulder asked him if he'd seen the blue light. ''Wrong question,'' Tommy said. ''Try again.'' ''What is the significance of a blue light?'' Mulder asked. ''Okay, close enough,'' Tommy said. "A blue light is produced when the Clot Activator is in operation.'' Mulder and Scully masked their excitement at this tidbit. Maybe Tommy didn't realize he was dropping a bombshell. ''The Clot Activator... That's your development project, right?'' Mulder said. ''That's my baby. I invented it four years ago, but I didn't have a way to direct it. Our project now is to develop a way to focus and control it,'' Tommy said. ''Now, what does this little gizmo of yours do?'' Mulder was trying to sound casual. ''Little?'' Tommy laughed. ''You're picturing a ray gun, aren't you. No. Think of a medieval catapult, you'll be a lot closer.'' Tommy was talking to Mulder but staring at Scully. ''What do you think a clot activator would do, Fox?'' Tommy asked him. ''I suppose it would activate the clotting mechanism, causing blood to form clots,'' Mulder answered. ''That's what I hoped it did,'' Tommy said. ''Unfortunately, the clots it causes are outside the normal clotting cascade. They are different in appearance, and they do not respond to the clot-busting enzymes. Fortunately for me, they do respond to heparin.'' They were getting into Scully's domain, but neither agent wanted to disturb whatever chemistry was keeping Tommy so informative. Scully just smiled and smiled. ''Why is it fortunate for you that the clots respond to heparin?'' Mulder asked. ''Because when I invented the 'gizmo,' the first thing I did with it was give myself a stroke. Unintentionally. I was not planning to be my first guinea pig,'' Tommy said. ''What's different about the clots formed by the Activator?'' Mulder asked. With each question, he was expecting Tommy to clam up. ''They are coiled,'' Tommy said. ''They look like fat, bouncy springs. These clots don't make use of fibrin at all, which stands out when you look at the lab reports. But you already knew that.'' Scully was practically holding her breath. Tommy Schoen was giving them everything they wanted, one question at a time. She hoped Mulder didn't notice how he was looking at her. ''Where is the Clot Activator now?'' Mulder asked. ''I can tell you where it isn't,'' Tommy answered. He dropped to a whisper, and as he hoped, the female agent leaned forward to hear him better. ''It's not where it belongs. It's not in its crate. It's not in our laboratory.'' ''Tommy, how did Gabriel Gilka get to Castelano's house that night? They didn't find his car there,'' Mulder said. ''I don't know. I never gave it a thought, but you're right, we didn't see his car. And I doubt if he came on that big motorcycle,'' Tommy said. Tommy wished Scully was like that sales rep from Albrecht-Chandler, who would open another button when she found him eyeing her like this. ''Why did you and Korsakov go to the house that night?'' Mulder asked. ''Just dropped in,'' Tommy answered. Apparently there were some questions he wouldn't answer. ''What happens to the project now that the Defense Department withdrew their support?'' Mulder asked. ''Dammit, Fox, I'm a medical doctor, not a financier!'' Tommy said. ''Who's the financier?'' Mulder asked. ''The grantsman, and master of grantsmanship, is Glenn Castelano,'' Tommy said. ''Did that cause any conflicts?'' Mulder asked. ''Glenn and Gabe were always more concerned with the economic implications of our work. Glenn has a daughter in college, and Gabe had three kids. The two of them worried about money a lot more than Sandy and I. Our needs are relatively simple, and we don't have anyone depending on us.'' Tommy hated himself for doing it, but he nudged a pencil to roll off his desk in front of the female agent, Dana. he thought, ''I've given you everything you need,'' Tommy said. ''It's time for my seminar.'' The interview was over. ******************************************************************* They took the same asphalt path back to the parking lot. Scully realized suddenly that her arm was across Mulder's back, with his arm over her shoulder, and she jumped away from him. ''Spender!'' she said. ''I didn't even know I was doing it,'' Mulder said. ''Maybe I would have my arm around Spender,'' Scully rationalized, ''if we'd just hit a gold mine like Tommy Schoen.'' ''I'd probably jump his bones when we got to the car,'' Mulder said, ''after a great interview like that.'' ''Well, maybe after we bring in Castelano. If he's not the murderer, he knows who is,'' Scully said. They drove to the courthouse to brief Sheriff Schmidt on their plans regarding Castelano. Their plans for Spender remained private. Schmidt recommended waiting until the evening, when Castelano would be at home. ''It'll be a lot simpler when he's all alone. If we try to get him from his office, he might put on a show of bravado,'' Schmidt said. He agreed to call the agents when he was about to proceed. They drove to the Holiday Inn, where they had booked rooms. Mulder got his laptop on line. ''I realized I've been leaning on you for all the medical information,'' he said. ''I have to get myself up to speed.'' ''Oh, don't do that,'' Scully told him. ''It will be so much harder to bullshit you.'' She went into the adjoining room to make a phone call. He continued surfing. ''They have a pool here,'' she told Mulder. ''And a gym with a track.'' She flipped through the TV listings without finding anything promising. ''Langley is probably in his private chat room now.'' ''Why are you telling me this?'' ''I'll be back by nine. Do you want me to order you something from room service?'' ''No thanks. Do I have to put on my pajamas now?'' ''Call me when you get the call from Schmidt. I don't think it will be before nine,'' Scully said. ''This is a bad idea,'' Mulder told her. ''Be careful or you'll mess this up.'' he thought. ''If you do go swimming, don't leave your wet towel on the bed, okay?'' ''Scully! Just ditch me already,'' Mulder said. ******************************************************************* Schuyler University dominated the town of Schuyler, and university nightlife centered around places like Johnny's and the Pub. But the Holiday Inn, where Mulder and Scully were lodging, was the center of ''town'' life. The restaurant/bar was called the College Grill. Mulder found the name of Glenn Castelano's housekeeper in the file. Lucy Voorman. He called her and arranged for her to meet him at the bar. The bar was fairly full for the middle of the week when Mulder went down to wait for Lucy. People looked up when he entered, and he heard a murmur of ''FBI'' pass through the room. Sandy Korsakov was sitting at the bar; he came here specifically to avoid the student hangouts. He went over to Mulder's table and Mulder nodded for him to sit down. ''Agent Mulder,'' Sandy said. ''The man Dana will grow old with.'' ''Been there, done that,'' Mulder said. Now he really wondered what Scully was up to. ''How is she? Can she really handle all the garbage you have to deal with?'' ''She's fine,'' Mulder said. ''Oh, she's always fine. Tears streaming down her face, puking her guts out, covered with blood, doesn't matter.'' said Sandy. ''Gee, it sounds like you two had a lot of fun together,'' Mulder remarked. ''We did. We had some wonderful times. She was one crazy kid when I met her,'' Sandy said. ''Yeah, what were you saying about Haverford and Georgetown? Something about showing those boys a thing or two?'' Sandy looked blank, then smiled. ''Haverford and Georgetown were the teams we beat in the Trivial Pursuit finals,'' he said. ''Sorry to disappoint you. If you want to get a reaction from her, you can ask her about the greenhouse and why you should never hang your formal gown from a sprinkler head.'' ''When did the good times end?'' Mulder asked. ''When she found her calling,'' Sandy said. ''When she set out to save the world.'' ''She said you didn't think she should go to medical school,'' Mulder said. ''I didn't. Being a doctor requires some detachment, some reserve. You know how Dana is--no inhibitions, jump right in.'' ''Miss Spontaneity,'' Mulder said. ''Yes, that too,'' said Sandy, ''but it's deeper than that. You know what I mean... how she totally embraces new ideas. How open she is about her feelings. I knew she would get hurt.'' ''What happened?'' Mulder asked. He was thinking, ''Once she decided to go to medical school, she started working at the hospital. Stepped right into the beginning of the AIDS epidemic. You remember what it was like back then? No effective treatments and plenty of open hostility and prejudice. She'd work her shift in the lab and then she'd stay half the night to help 'her guys.' And they kept dying on her.'' ''I was out of the country during the eighties,'' Mulder said. ''When I came back, everything had changed. AIDS was all you heard about. No more free love. Condoms were back--hadn't thought about those since high school.'' ''Dana was overwhelmed. She saw so much suffering and all she could think about was trying to help. She's lucky she graduated,'' Sandy said. ''What are you talking about?'' Mulder challenged him. ''She graduated with high honors.'' ''It was April of eighty-six. We were barely speaking by that time. All I ever heard from her was about my dangerous lifestyle,'' Sandy said. ''Her academic advisor was a friend of mine, and he mentioned that Dana had not even started her senior thesis.'' ''Her senior thesis was brilliant,'' Mulder said. ''Now I know you're in love,'' Sandy replied. ''Anyway, I couldn't reach her by phone so I camped out on her doorstep. She came home around three A.M.--blood all over her, by the way. She looked like shit. I told her I was worried about her. Do you want to guess what she said?'' No need to guess. Mulder knew. ''Well, I just took her car keys. Daddy bought her a car when she agreed to go to med school,'' Sandy said. ''Fun, fun, fun,'' said Mulder. ''Right. Of course it wasn't a T-bird, you know how she hates Fords. So I took her keys, told her she could have them back when her thesis was done. Then I drove off with her car.'' ''So you stole her car and she sat down at her desk and wrote her thesis?'' he thought again. ''Well, she didn't have a desk, but yes, basically. Took her four days to crank out that piece of drivel you find so brilliant. That little squirt has me to thank for her degree,'' Sandy said. ''How did you feel about her joining the Bureau?'' Mulder asked. ''She couldn't go on in medicine,'' Sandy said. ''She was burned out. She thought medicine itself had let her patients down, that doctors were doing as much harm as good.'' ''She lost her faith,'' Mulder said. ''She was going to work in research for a year, but then the FBI approached her. She was nuts about guns, so it appealed to her. She said she wanted to take on an enemy that she could shoot,'' said Korsakov. Mulder shook his head. He'd always wondered how he'd gotten through the Bureau's screening process, and now he wondered about Scully as well. ''Ask her about Greg,'' Korsakov said. ''You'll see what I'm talking about.'' Sandy was looking past Mulder at a slender blond woman entering the bar. She approached the two men. ''Lucy, I thought you were going on vacation,'' Sandy said. ''I have a flight from Syracuse at midnight,'' Lucy said. ''I got a call from the FBI man, so I figured I'd see him first. Is this him?'' Sandy put his hand on Mulder's arm. ''I need to talk to you. Privately.'' Mulder followed him out of the bar into the hotel lobby. ''Look, Korsakov--'' Korsakov's fist in his face landed him on his back. Korsakov's foot over his throat kept him there. ''You son of a bitch,'' Korsakov said. ''I tell you all that and you're sitting there waiting for a hooker? Dana does not deserve this. God, she thinks you're all integrity and honesty, and you're just some low-life bastard." Mulder twisted Korsakov's leg, bringing him down to the floor. He felt himself reaching for his gun, but stopped. Lucy Voorman had followed them out. ''Stop it, both of you. And Sandy, you're a low-life yourself. You make it sound like I'm a pro. The fed just wants to talk about Professor Castelano. And don't even think of telling the professor about this because you were talking to him too.'' Mulder and Korsakov were both on their feet by now. Mulder was used to getting pounded and didn't feel too bad physically. he thought. After the fracas, Mulder guided Lucy back to his table at the bar. She ordered the surf and turf and a pina colada. He got a burger and a draught, which was quite restrained, considering it was Scully's turn to buy. ''I really shouldn't stuff myself like this,'' Lucy said. ''I don't want to get airsick.'' She told him that Glenn Castelano had surprised her with this vacation, which he'd arranged and paid for out of the blue. She'd been working for the Castelanos for a couple of years and they'd never done anything like this for her before. She wasn't working the night of the murder, but she confirmed what others had said: it was unusual for the Castelanos to have guests. ''Gilka died in the living room, right?'' Mulder asked. ''Has that room been cleaned since then?'' ''No one's even been in there,'' she said. ''Mike Schmidt said to keep out. Mrs. C. will have a fit if those footprints aren't gone before she gets back.'' The footprints in question were from Sandy Korsakov. Anyone else would have removed their shoes. Lucy kept a boot tray lined with newspaper by the front door for guests. The Castelanos didn't use it; they usually came in through the garage. ''How often do you change the newspaper?'' Mulder asked. ''Once a week. When the Sunday paper comes I pull the want-ads section and stick it in the tray,'' she said. If Mulder was lucky, he'd find residual shoe prints on the newspaper. Maybe even the killer's. The tab came to $37.00 including the tip; Scully was a generous tipper. Lucy told him what he could have for another $50 but he wasn't interested, even if it was Scully's turn to buy. After Lucy left, Mulder switched to Cokes--iced tea was not in season in upstate New York. He was waiting for a phone call. Everyone else was waiting for 'Frasier.' He wondered again what Scully was up to. Scully was doing something she never expected to do: meeting the future Mrs. Alexander Korsakov. She'd had about fifteen minutes alone with Sandy when Mulder had set out to talk to Tommy by himself. After she'd dropped her guard and told him about Mulder, Sandy had given her his big news. He was getting married, and he was going to be a father. He described the arrangement as being mutually beneficial. Scully decided she'd better investigate. So Scully ended up having dinner with Laura Hayden. Laura listened attentively to Scully's descriptions of the Korsakov family parties she'd been to. She said very little about her arrangement with Sandy or why it appealed to her. She did mention that Sandy had helped her land the position of Glenn Castelano's research assistant. Mulder, meanwhile, had been buttonholed by a man who wanted his ex-wife arrested for copying videotapes. Mulder told him how to contact Jeffrey Spender. He was rescued by Sheriff Schmidt's phone call. Schmidt agreed to pick him up at the hotel on his way to the Castelano house. ************************************************ Holiday Inn Schuyler, New York The foray to the Castelano home was not entirely successful. Glenn Castelano was not at home. The Clot Activator was not there, or at least they couldn't find it. Mulder did come away with an old, wet classified section from Sunday's newspaper, an oil-stained carpet fiber, and a long brown hair. Scully was sitting cross-legged on top of the still-made bed, eating a big green apple and watching TV. Mulder opened the door with his key. She wouldn't have the nerve to say anything about being ditched. She wouldn't have been ditched if she hadn't ditched him first. ''I brought you something to read,'' he said, holding up the classified section. She nodded without looking at him. She was wearing panties and a bra, and a half-closed bathrobe. And something else. She had the look, that predatory look she got occasionally. Scully on the prowl. Scully the hunter. When she got really horny, he loved to play dumb and make her work for his attention. Funny, but when she was really hot like this, she looked as cold as ice, she looked like an assassin. Any minute now, she would ask, ''Are we working?'' That would be her overture. She would say, ''Are we working,'' and he would say, ''yes.'' Well, maybe he shouldn't say yes. Saying yes meant saying no, and he didn't want to say no when he meant yes. It was complicated enough without that. So maybe he would just say, ''What?'' He'd act preoccupied, and she'd start climbing on him. And he would be obtuse as long as he could, and then maybe a second before she was ready to scream and start pummeling him, he would grab her, do his caveman thing. She wouldn't even care if the light was on. Scully was still fixed on the television. she thought. He could go to his own room, he could sharpen pencils or something, and she'd be ready for him. He was staring at her trying not to smile. He was with her practically every minute of every day, he really could spare her an hour a week. Mulder was reassessing the situation. Why was she sitting there obviously racked with hormones and completely ignoring him? That must be some apple. ''Give me a bite?'' he asked. She didn't take her eyes off the screen as she passed him the apple. He took a bite, then moved next to her to return it. He circled her shoulders with one arm and brought the apple to her mouth to feed it to her. She kind of liked the feel of his suit jacket where it touched her neck, but why couldn't he wait fifteen minutes? She pushed the apple away. And then it clicked. Scully was the predator, but he was not the prey. ''Dana Scully,'' he said, ''I never again want to hear even one word from you about those videotapes that aren't mine!'' The show broke to a commercial, but she would probably have responded anyway. ''What are you talking about?'' ''You're sitting there lusting over that actor when I'm right here in the room! Yes you are, you've got the look! You have a prurient interest in this show. You're so smug about my video collection, and look at you. Scully, I'm so hurt! I feel like I'm not man enough for you.'' ''Just because I'm watching TV? If you don't like this show, why don't you go to your own room and watch something else?'' ''This is my room,'' he said. ''Since when? Your room, be definition, is the room with your toothbrush in it.'' Mulder wondered whose toothbrush he had used before he went down to the bar. ''You marked your territory in the other room,'' he said. ''You left your boots there. That means it's your room. My mousse is in this room, that means it's mine.'' ''I took my boots off while I was on the phone, while you were using my phone for your computer. And it's not your mousse either. You took it from me last time we were in the field when you were having a bad hair day. If you check the bathroom you'll find my pantyhose hanging there. That's how I mark my territory. Now be quiet and watch the show.'' ''This is the guy you like, isn't it? And you talk about me having a bad hair day!'' ''Who cares? He's a great doctor. Do you know how long it would take a real doctor to crack open a chest?'' ''I'm sorry to be the one who has to tell you this, but he isn't a doctor. He's an actor. And he's leaving the show because he wants more money.'' ''It's not just the money. He's tired of playing that same part.'' ''Now what's he doing? Oh, I get it, that's his girlfriend. Look! Their eyes meet. Wow, how poignant, how meaningful.'' She tried clamping her hand over his mouth. ''Hey, Scully, next time I'm hurt, take me to this hospital.'' ''You're going to be hurt very soon if you don't shut up.'' ''Oh, look! The camera pans out to show you how alone he feels. Scully, this is art!'' ''Thank you, Tom Servo,'' Scully said. She turned off the TV. ''I think I know what it is with this guy. It's those pants. I think you have a thing for drawstring pants.'' ''So convenient. I could just pull the string.'' She hooked her hand into the waistband of his pants. Mulder thought.