Title: Off the Beaten Path
Author: Vickie Moseley 
Summary: Post ep for Detour. Written for After the 
Fact Challenge.
Rating: PG 13
Category: V, MT, A, UST
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, still not makin' 
money off 'em, still using them freely. Yup, it's all 
the same. Still not infringing on the copyright.
Archives: yes
Notes: This story was an X File in itself! I wrote 
the darned thing ages ago (before the end of July) 
just for this week because I LOVE Detour and wanted 
to do one more 'homage' piece to that story. I even 
got to have it beta-ed by the best <VEG> And then, my 
computer crashed and I was sure it was gone for good. 
Fortunately, some wonderful beta found it still 
resting somewhere on her computer, so it's because of 
Auntie Deb that this baby comes toddling to you now. 
Next time, I'll wait till closer to the challenge to 
write the story <VEG>
 

Off the beaten path
By Vickie Moseley


"C'mon, Scully. Let's get out of here." 
Mulder's warm hand was on the small of her back 
for an instant while he hurried her to the 
waiting car. 

"Where are Kinsley and Stonecypher?" she asked, 
checking the back seat and looked at her 
partner curiously. Mulder was fumbling with the 
key to the trunk while trying not to drop his 
suitcase. Whatever he was thinking, he was 
causing himself and his injured shoulder more 
harm than good.

"Give me those," she huffed, taking the keys 
and the case from him, then opening the trunk 
and sliding both suitcases inside. "You left 
them behind, didn't you?" she accused.

"It was entirely unintentional, Scully," he 
assured her, but his guilty look told her more 
than his words. "Couldn't we just say . . ."

"We go back and pick them up. I don't want to 
hear another word about it," she warned him. He 
attempted to beat her to the driver's side, but 
one steely glance from her and he slunk off 
toward the passenger side.

It took no time to go back to the site of the 
roadblock and find the two agents. Stonecypher 
didn't hide the fact that she was miffed at 
being ditched, but Kinsley seemed to take it in 
stride. The two deposited their luggage in the 
trunk and situated themselves in the backseat.

"Well, that was a huge waste of time," 
Stonecypher started the minute the car was in 
gear. "We missed the whole first day of 
activities. We'll never catch up at this 
point."

"Catch up?" Mulder asked, and instantly 
regretted it. He had a throbbing headache and 
he really didn't want another lengthy 
explanation on the necessity of building 
furniture structures to foster inter-partner 
communication.

"Yes, each activity awards you points, if you 
complete it properly. Then at the end, they 
have prizes. Last year the winning partners got 
two plane tickets to anywhere in the 
continental United States," she told him 
eagerly.

Mulder glanced over at Scully and saw her 
raised eyebrow. "Is there a second place prize 
where you get to stay in your own apartment for 
48 hours straight?" he asked innocently.

Kinsley laughed, but Stonecyper couldn't see 
the humor in the remark. "We'll be at least 40 
points behind by the time we get there," she 
fumed. "And I really did want to win this 
year."

"We were third place last year," Kinsley 
explained.

"And that was because of what?" Stonecypher 
growled.

"Because I didn't remember to bring the 
assigned list to the scavenger hunt," Kinsley 
said guiltly.

"Maybe it's a good thing we missed last year," 
Mulder muttered.

"Well, I think they're wonderful. I've learned 
so much about Mike and how we communicate when 
we're really in trouble. It's a wonder we 
haven't gotten ourselves in trouble out in the 
field. We were just going along, doing our own 
things, never giving thought to what the other 
person was doing. It's dangerous, you know. 
Without these conferences, we'd have a lot more 
injuries in the field," Stonecypher prattled 
on.

Scully took that opportunity to take her eyes 
off the road and give her partner a good long 
look. He had the audacity to meet her gaze and 
give her a lop-sided grin.

They didn't have that much farther to go, it 
was just about two hours later when they pulled 
up to the hotel. Scully gave the covered 
archway and valet an appraising look. 

"I can tell you had nothing to do with 
organizing this thing, Mulder," she whispered 
as she moved past him through the doors. When 
he didn't respond in any way she looked back at 
him. He was flexing the fingers on his left 
hand, staring at his fingers as if he was 
trying to make them move faster.

"How's your shoulder? Stiff?" she asked.

He looked up like he hadn't heard her, then 
nodded. "Something like that," was all he would 
admit.

"You need to lie down a little while. Lunch is 
in an hour. I'll come by and wake you up."

He surprised them both by nodding again. "Yeah, 
that sounds like a good idea. I didn't really 
sleep that well. Someone kept singing in my ear 
all night," he said with another grin.

He headed over to the registration desk and 
discovered that they were roomed on opposite 
ends of the same hall. She started to object, 
but he stopped her with a look. It was one 
thing to be together in the field, when they 
might need the back up, it was another to make 
a scene over room arrangements at a conference. 
There were enough people betting on their 
sleeping arrangements as it was.

She left him at the elevator, since the bellboy 
was more than willing to take up the bags. As 
the elevator doors closed, she couldn't help 
feeling just a little worried about him.

The elevator was glass and overlooked the 
interior of the hotel. Terraces of hanging 
plants graced each level. A fountain was the 
centerpiece on the first floor and three spouts 
of water shot two levels up before curving in 
perfect arcs and splashing against the black 
marble of the base. It really was a nice place 
and Mulder wished with all his soul that he 
could enjoy it a little more. His headache was 
now a full-fledged pounding and his shoulder 
was aching deep in the bone. But what had him 
the most concerned was his hand. His left had 
tingled, felt like it was asleep almost. He 
tried wiggling the fingers, his sure-fire way 
to wake up a numb limb, but to no avail. He was 
certain Scully was right. He needed to lie down 
for a while, get some rest. Even he could sense 
that his injury was not to be taken lightly. 

The room was as nice as the lobby had promised. 
He had a king sized bed, a desk, a low dresser 
and an armoire with a television and a mini-
bar. Years of experience with Bureau expense 
accounts warned him against even looking at the 
mini-bar, but the bed held his attention from 
the minute he stepped foot in the room. Without 
even bothering to find the remote to the 
television, he crawled onto the bed on top of 
the covers and was soon fast asleep.

Scully sat in the back of the room, trying to 
pay attention. She'd walked in on a panel 
discussion in progress. The topic was cultural 
differences between partners and learning to 
appreciate diversity. She kept having to bite 
her lip. She and Mulder were pretty culturally 
diverse and yet they never seemed to thrive on 
it. She wondered if any of the couples sitting 
in the room would include liver-eating mutants, 
flukemen and alien bounty hunters in their 
definition of diversity.

Finally, the panel opened the floor for 
discussion. Since it was less than 15 minutes 
to lunch, there were no questions from the 
audience. Of course, that meant that the 
moderator had to ask a few, just to keep them 
all in their seats. When Scully was seriously 
thinking of making a break for the door, the 
moderator thanked the panel and the room broke 
into sporadic applause. Scully was the first 
one out the door.

All the way up the elevator to the sixth floor, 
she felt strange. She was overcome with worry, 
but she couldn't explain it. Something was 
wrong, dreadfully wrong and all she knew was 
that she had to get to Mulder as quickly as 
possible.

She ran down the hall to his room and pounded 
on the door. There was no answer. She pounded 
again and waited. When no answer came again, 
she pounded a third time and vowed to herself 
that she would get someone from the front desk 
to open the door if he didn't appear.

She heard the bolt lock click off and then the 
door slowly swung open. Mulder was already half 
way back to the bed, but seemed to be having 
some difficulty walking. He staggered a bit 
before finally climbing hand over hand onto the 
bed. The sides of the comforter were pulled up 
creating a nest in the middle and he settled 
himself into it.

"Mulder, you really look bad," she told him.

He grunted in response. "I would be offended, 
but I feel worse than I look," he said in a 
raspy voice. "I feel like hell, Scully," he 
informed her. He'd piled the three pillows into 
a heap and was settled on his back, but even 
four feet away she could hear a distinct rattle 
in his chest.

She was over on the edge of the bed in an 
instant. "Does your head still hurt?" she 
asked, placing her palm against this forehead 
and then his cheek. He had a fever, she could 
feel it. She then placed her hand flat on his 
chest, first in front and then on his back. She 
could feel the rattle as well as hear it. It 
seemed more pronounced on the left side.

"Everything hurts. My head, my shoulder. Except 
my hand."

She was feeling up under his chin, at his 
glands. They seemed a little swollen, which 
could account for his raspy throat. "Why 
doesn't your hand hurt?" she asked, reaching 
down to take his right wrist between her thumb 
and two fingers, feeling his pulse.

"It's numb," he said simply, closing her eyes.

That caused her concern. "Which hand?" she 
asked. He waved the offending extremity in her 
direction. She grabbed it and felt along the 
tendons. "Squeeze for me," she requested. It 
was obvious that he was trying to obey, but 
nothing was happening. "How long has this been 
going on?"

"Started during the ride here. It was just my 
fingers at first. I thought I might have 
pinched a nerve last night when you were 
wrestling me," he said with a faint ghost of 
his usual smile. "It got worse. Now it's numb 
all the way to my elbow."

"Mulder, I don't like this at all. I want to 
take you to see a doctor," she told him getting 
up and going to the phone on the other side of 
the bed.

"Scully, I saw a doctor this morning," he 
reminded her. "He even gave me a shot of 
antibiotics," he added, trying to rub his upper arm 
with his numb hand. It didn't work.

"I know, I was there for every joyful moment." 
She turned her attention to the phone for a 
moment. "Desk? Can you give me the phone number 
of the nearest urgent care or emergency room?"

"Not the emergency room, Scully," he groaned. 
"They already think I'm trying to skip out on 
this thing," he muttered.

"It's my partner," she said in to the phone, 
ignoring his objections. "He's taken ill and 
I'd like to get him into a doctor as soon as 
possible." She listened for a minute, then 
turned to Mulder. "Do you think you can get 
down to a car?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can walk to a car, 
and no I don't think I need an ambulance," he 
growled.

"Yes, that would be most helpful. Mulder. M-U-
L-D-E-R. Fox. Yes. Thank you. We'll be down in 
about five minutes." She looked him over for a 
minute, assessing if he really was capable of 
getting all the way down to the lobby. 

"I'm not that bad, Scully, really," he assured 
her. "Why don't you get the car, I'll be right 
there."

"The hotel is providing a courtesy car. Someone 
is driving us over. They said it would be 
faster and safer than trying to give us 
directions. Where are your shoes?"

He looked around the floor. "Under the bed, I 
guess," he mumbled and leaned over, almost 
toppling to the ground. She grabbed his arms 
and set him back on the bed. "Dizzy for a 
minute," he admitted.

"Let me find them. You stay put," she ordered. 
She fished the shoes out from where he'd kicked 
them when he'd first gotten on the bed and 
helped him put them on his feet. Then she 
helped him to stand, but he swayed when she let 
go of him.

"Maybe I should call the desk again," Scully 
was saying when there was a knock on the door. 
She sat Mulder back down on the bed and went to 
answer it. It was Mike Kinsley.

"Stonecypher couldn't find you two at lunch and 
uh . . . sorry if I interrupted anything," he 
said hastily in embarrassment, completely 
misreading the scene before him.

"Agent Kinsley, I need your help," Scully told 
him, pulling him into the room. "Mulder's arm 
is worse, I need to get him to the doctors. 
They have a car waiting for us downstairs, but 
I don't think I can get him down there by 
myself."

Kinsley's face instantly went from embarrassed 
to concerned. "Sure, Agent Scully. Here, Agent 
Mulder, just put your arm around my shoulder." 
Mulder hissed in pain as Kinsley grabbed the 
wrong arm. "Oh, sorry! Here, let's do it this 
way," he said moving to the other side. 
Finally, the two men were standing although 
Mulder not quite upright and Scully led them 
out of the room and down the hall to the 
elevator.

Stonecypher was standing at the elevators on 
the first floor, tapping her foot impatiently. 
"Mike, we're going to be late, oh my God, 
what's the matter with him?" her fury changed 
immediately when she got one look at Mulder.

"He's sick. I think it's his shoulder. I need 
to get him to the doctor," Scully explained. 
Stonecypher ran to get the door, beating the 
valet by a split second.

"Where are you taking him?" Kinsley asked the 
driver.

"Orlando Memorial is just up the road. They 
have a Prompt Care. We'll be there," the driver 
told him.

"We'll tell the check-in committee," Mike 
assured Scully. "Give us a call when you need a 
ride back."

"Thanks, Agent Kinsley. I'll call you later."

Scully climbed into the backseat with Mulder, 
who was leaning heavily against the door. "How 
are you doing?" she asked, taking his hand in 
hers and giving it a squeeze before checking 
his pulse again.

"Is it really hot in here?" he asked without 
answering her question.

"No, it's fairly cool. I can have the driver 
turn off the heater if you want," she offered.

He nodded weakly and closed his eyes. His face 
was already dotted with a fine sweat, she 
didn't like the pale color he'd taken on just 
in the short trip down to the car. His pulse 
was a little fast, but nothing to worry about. 
She was more concerned with the numbness that 
seemed to be progressing up his arm. She 
reached over and pinched his upper forearm. He 
didn't even flinch.

"Mulder, is your whole arm numb now?" she 
asked.

He nodded again and stretched his neck to the 
side as if working out a kink. She leaned 
forward and tapped the driver. "Hurry, please," 
she asked, hoping she sounded calmer than she 
felt.

By the time they reached the hospital, just a 
few miles from the hotel, Mulder was having 
trouble breathing. Scully was now close to 
panic and shouted at the driver to get a nurse 
and a wheelchair, which he did. In just 
seconds, they had Mulder in the wheelchair and 
back in the treatment area. He couldn't lift 
himself up on the gurney so an orderly and a 
nurse assisted him. 

As he lay back, Scully noted that now his lips 
had taken on a bluish tint. She brought that to 
the nurse's attention and she quickly pulled 
over an oxygen mask, strapping it on Mulder's 
face. His eyes fluttered open and he searched 
around for Scully. She stood up so he could see 
her easier and smiled at him nervously, then 
took his hand in hers.

"Just relax, Mulder. We'll get this figured 
out. For now, just take it easy, let us do the 
work."

He bent his head forward, as if to nod, but 
this time it didn't come up again. The nurse, 
who was taking his vitals and had a stethoscope 
to his chest immediately turned and called for 
the doctor. Mulder was no longer breathing.

The doctor was shouting orders, a code was 
called over the PA and Scully was shoved out of 
the treatment room and left to stand in the 
hallway as medical personnel raced past her. 
She didn't even realize she was shaking until a
nurse touched her arm and led her to the family 
lounge, just off the main room of the Emergency 
Department. The nurse assured her that the 
doctor would be out to speak with her as soon 
as possible.
 
Scully sat there, stunned. What had happened? 
Mulder had been checked out at the site, he'd 
been given a shot of antibiotics, his tetanus 
vaccination card in his wallet saved him an 
extra dose of that antitoxin, but obviously
something had been missed. She remembered the 
other victims, Officer Fazekas and Mr. Asekoff 
had been cut, bruised, dehydrated, but neither 
of them were experiencing the reactions Mulder
had. If they'd had the same numbness 
progressing to respiratory failure, they
would have been dead before Scully and Mulder 
had found them.
 
But the cavern had been full of dead bodies, 
she remembered. She and Mulder had been 
counting them, taking them near the sinkhole 
for removal by the rescue team. Some of the 
bodies were relatively intact, well preserved.
Maybe they held some clue as to what was 
happening now to Mulder.
 
She was lost in this train of thought when a 
young man entered the lounge and headed in her 
direction. "Dana Scully?" he asked, offering 
his hand. "I'm Dr. Jeff Martin, I'm the cardio-
pulmonary resident called in to treat Mr. 
Mulder. Are you his wife?"
 
Scully shook her head. "No, we're with the FBI. 
Agent Mulder is my partner. I'm a medical 
doctor, a pathologist for the Bureau. We were 
attending a conference in Orlando."
 
"Wow, those things must get pretty rowdy," Dr. 
Martin commented. "His shoulder's a mess."
 
"No, that's not how Agent Mulder was injured," 
Scully hastened to explain. "We were stopped at 
a roadblock a few miles from here on the way 
down yesterday. A survey team and a hunter
were lost in the woods. We were helping with 
the rescue efforts when our guide disappeared 
and Mulder was attacked. We spent the night in 
the forest without shelter."
 
By this time Martin was frowning and chewing on 
his lip. "What exactly attacked him? We're 
running blood work but no results have come 
back. Did you catch the animal?"
 
Scully licked her lip. This was not going to be 
easy. "It wasn't an animal. We believe it was a 
man."

"You 'believe' it was a man? Did he get away?"
 
Scully shook her head. "No, he was killed. I 
shot him when he attacked us again. But, well, 
it was an unusual case," she said with a tried 
sigh. "The body was taken to a morgue, but I'm 
not certain where. I should call the sheriff's 
department there and find out."
 
"I won't kid you, I'm at a total loss at the 
moment. Until those results come back, I have 
your partner intubated and we have a cardiac 
crash cart on standby. His blood pressure and 
sinus rhythm seem stable at the moment, but on 
the admitting chart it said he was brought
in complaining about numbness in his left arm. 
I'm still worried about his heart."

"May I see him?" Scully asked. She was even 
more worried now that she'd spoken to a doctor.
 
Martin frowned again. "I'm sending him up to 
ICU right now. Let him get settled and you can 
go up. Is there anyone you need to call? His 
family?"
 
Scully sighed. She should probably call his 
mother, but the last time Mulder had seen her 
had been anything but pleasant and the woman 
had not bothered to see her son when he was 
hospitalized. Scully wasn't sure what do to, 
and decided to wait until she'd seen him for
herself.
 
"His mother lives in New England. I'd really 
like to wait until there is more to tell her."
 
"Whatever you think is best," Martin said with 
a shrug. "The ICU waiting room is a little more 
comfortable than this one. It's on 4th floor, 
turn right as you leave the elevator. Just 
check in with the nurse at the desk and she'll
put on the schedule."
 
Scully was still trying to sort it all out when 
she noticed that Dr. Martin had left. She shook 
her head and looked around for the elevators.
 
Mulder was very much aware of his surroundings. 
Although his eyes were taped closed, he could 
hear everything, could sense the movement of 
the gurney, smell the antiseptic and faint 
floral scent that floated past him as he was
transported to his room. He could definitely 
feel the hard plastic tube down his throat, and 
that was the most upsetting. With the tube in 
place, he couldn't call out for Scully.
 
He had heard the voices around him and knew the 
doctor and nurses thought he was in a coma. In 
fact, his body was reacting that way, 
especially his chest and lungs which had 
decided to take a day off, completely. But his 
mind was alert. He knew that shouldn't be
happening, but it was. He knew Scully would 
stand there and tell him exactly how impossible 
it was for the human body to be in the state of 
stasis that defined the term coma and yet the 
mind still be alert enough to hear, understand 
and process. As a matter of fact, he wished 
there was some way he could get through to her 
just so he could hear her tell him all that. 
And he more than anything wished he could feel 
her hand holding his and her fingers stroking 
his hair. 
 
Why could he feel on the inside and not on the 
outside? Why did the tube scrap and hurt going 
down, but he wasn't sure if he was laying on a 
hospital gurney or a bed of hot coals? It made 
no sense to him, but the more he thought about 
it, the more panicked he became and he knew
that was not going to help the situation.
 
The gurney stopped and he was picked up and 
placed on another bed. The sensation of 
floating and then landing was entirely 
unpleasant, like the final dip of a roller 
coaster that he never anticipated. It made him 
feel a little nauseous, but once he was 
settled, that calmed down to a reasonable 
level. He heard the nurses connecting all the
machines around him, setting them, placing bags 
of medication on the hooks above his bed. It 
was disconcerting to hear them talk about him 
as if he weren't there, but at least it gave 
him some information. They were concerned
about his heart so there was a crash cart near 
his bed. They were concerned about his 
respiration and had him on full support. They 
weren't sure what was happening, but the doctor 
had ordered blood gases drawn every four hours. 
And then they all left, and he was alone.
 
Just from the sounds, he could tell he was in 
ICU. He was usually only conscious for a short 
part of his many visits there, but he 
remembered all too well how quiet those floors 
tended to be. There were no visitors, so only 
the nurses' soft-soled shoes shushed on the
floor outside his room. The only noises in the 
room were the sounds of the monitors and from 
the different noises, he knew he was as 
'monitored' as he could get. And he was almost 
certain he was in a private cubicle or he 
didn't have a roommate because he couldn't hear
anyone else breathing, or being assisted in 
their breathing.
 
If he was in ICU, Scully must have been 
relegated to the waiting room. He could picture 
her there, pacing and sending hate daggers with 
her eyes toward whatever nurse stood between 
her and his room. If he could have made his
diaphragm work, he would have chuckled at the 
image his mind conjured up. But then again, he 
remembered standing just outside her room, 
looking through a glass window and seeing her 
intubated, on life support and then having 
Skinner haul his ass out of the hospital to sit
and answer questions for an eternity before he 
even had a chance to tell her he was there. 
Maybe making Scully wait wasn't that funny. As 
he felt himself grow drowsy and drift off, he 
wished more than anything that when he woke up,
Scully would be there.
 
ICU 3:15 pm
 
Scully reluctantly left the room, promising him 
that she would be back in 45 minutes. It broke 
her heart when the nurse had tapped on the 
glass. She'd been in three times to see him 
already and each time had been the same. He was
unresponsive, still not breathing except with 
the help of the machines and they still hadn't 
gotten any of the blood tests back. She was 
ready to go down to the lab and do the tests 
herself.
 
The nurse nodded to her as she walked into the 
waiting lounge. Scully barely acknowledged her 
and went to sit in her corner, staring at the 
clock. She didn't even notice when Agent
Stonecypher entered the room.
 
"Agent Scully? Dana? My god, what happened?" 
Carla Stonecypher asked as she took the seat 
next to Scully. "We hadn't heard from you so 
Mike called the hospital. They told us Agent 
Mulder is in critical condition."
 
Scully drew in a deep breath. She really wasn't 
in the mood for an interrogation on Mulder's 
condition. But Stonecypher seemed genuinely
concerned. She licked her lips and explained as 
much of the situation as she could.
 
"Oh my god, that's awful! And to think Mike and 
I thought he was just trying to get out of the 
conference," Carla said with a shake of her 
head.
 
Scully bristled at her accusation of Mulder, 
but decided it really wasn't worth the effort. 
"So, where is Mike?" she asked instead.
 
"Oh, he dropped me off at the door and parked 
the car. He should be up here soon." As if on 
cue, Mike Kinsley stood in the door, searching 
the room for anyone familiar. He spotted Carla 
and joined them.
 
"Have you been in to see him?" Mike asked after 
Carla gave the abbreviated version of Mulder's 
recent affliction. 
 
"Every hour since they brought him up here. But 
he's in a coma. I don't expect him to respond 
to me," she said trying to hide the pain that 
admission caused her.
 
"Mike, why don't you run to the cafeteria and 
get us all some decent coffee," Carla 
suggested. Mike gave her a curious look, but 
shrugged and did as he was told. Carla watched 
him until he'd left the room and then she 
turned back to Scully. "Dana, I know this must
be horrible for you. I can't even imagine how 
strung out I'd be if anything ever happened to 
Mike," she said with a shake of her head.
 
"I know, it's hard when you work so closely 
together," Scully said with a sigh.
 
"If I couldn't wake up to his shining face 
every morning, I'd just lose it, I know I 
would," Carla continued, staring off into 
space.
 
Scully blinked and swallowed. Carla turned 
toward her. "I mean, it probably would be 
easier if we weren't sleeping together, but I 
wouldn't trade our relationship for the world, 
would you?"

"Carla, we aren't . . . I mean Mulder and I 
don't . . . we . . ."
 
Carla laughed and squeezed Scully's arm. "Dana, 
Dana, it's just us here. No A.D.s, no Bureau water 
coolers. Mike and I didn't make it through the 
first six months before we hit the sheets. And 
I know you and Agent Mulder must have beat
us by a country mile!" At Scully's slow shake 
of denial, Carla's jaw dropped open. "You 
haven't?" Scully continued to shake her head. 
"Not even once?" Carla sat back and blew out a 
breath. "Man, he doesn't look gay," she half
muttered. Then she quickly looked at Scully, 
her eyes wide. "Oh, maybe I have that wrong!"
 
"Carla, no, we're not gay," Scully assured her. 
"We just . . . never . . ."
 
"Talk about unexplained phenomenon," Carla said 
with a low whistle. "I mean, you two are joined 
at the hip! If anyone were to tell me you 
weren't sleeping together, well, except you of
course, I would have called them a liar right 
to their face."
 
"So you and Mike . . .?" Scully asked. It was 
like witnessing a train wreck. She didn't 
really want to know, but couldn't turn her head 
away from the carnage, either.
 
"Three years now," Carla said with a nod. "We 
spend every weekend together. When we became 
partners, I had a boyfriend, but he couldn't 
understand my wanting to be a field agent. We 
broke up. Mike had been in a long-term
relationship and then he found out she had the 
hots for the girl next door, if you know what I 
mean. It just sort of all fell into place." She 
looked over at Scully again, gauging her 
reaction.
 
"Oh, we tried to deny it for a long time. The 
work came first, we didn't want to mess up our 
friendship, all the usual reasons. But then one 
night we were working on some files and there 
was a storm and the lights went out . . ."
She got a faraway look in her eyes and a smile 
on her face. "It was funny. When we woke up the 
next morning, we actually sat there and tried 
to decide if we'd made a mistake or if we could 
make it work. Who does that? Who analyses their 
sex life like that? Only FBI agents, right?"
 
Scully was more than relieved when the nurse 
called her name, letting her back in to see her 
partner. All the way to Mulder's room, she was 
still reeling with Carla's revelation. Was 
everyone at the Bureau sleeping together 
except she and Mulder?
 
Well, at least Mulder was sleeping. She took 
his hand again, giving it a squeeze. She didn't 
know that he was awake and alert and had been 
waiting for her. She sat down on the edge of 
the bed and stroked his hair, talking softly
to him, never realizing that he was listening 
to every word.
 
"Mulder, I don't know what to tell you. The 
results aren't back yet. I'm sorry about the 
tube, but at least you can't feel it."
 
The almost made him laugh, but again, he didn't 
have enough control to do it.
 
"I just wish you'd wake up. I think we've 
missed most of the boring parts of the 
conference. Tonight is the dinner dance and I 
was sort of hoping I could get a dance. Just 
one."
 
He felt his heart tighten and knew it wasn't 
medical. He'd love to dance with her. It was 
something he'd dreamed of for years.
 
She chuckled for a second. "You won't believe 
this, Mulder. Stonecypher and Kinsley? They're 
sleeping together! Three years, do you believe 
that? I know I never would have guessed it. But
then, the way they were when they were talking 
about building that tower . . ."
 
He thought he heard her hiccup and when she 
spoke again, he could her that strain in her 
voice.
 
"She thought . . . they thought . . . Well, you 
know that stupid pool. I set her straight, 
though. I mean, I'd hate to get the credit for 
something we haven't done, right?"
 
If his eyes hadn't been closed, he would have 
slammed them shut, trying to block the pain her 
heard in her voice. It was a pain that he 
shared, deep in his very core.
 
"I just keep thinking someday. Someday we'll 
find Samantha, and someday we'll end the 
conspiracy and someday we'll have time . . ."

This time there was no mistaking the sniffle 
that ended the sentence. He wished he could 
make some movement, force his hand to flex just 
enough to let her know how much he shared her
pain, and her hopes.
 
"After my remission, it was something I used to 
think about. When you came over to see me at 
Mom's I almost thought . . . But it wasn't the 
right time. I finally realized that. It's never 
been the right time for us."
 
He wanted to scream at her, shake her, make her 
understand. If it was what she wanted, that was 
good enough for him. He'd wanted to be with her 
since their first year. He couldn't stand the
thought of losing her, so much so that he'd 
considered ending his own life rather than 
watch her waste away from something he'd 
caused. But then he had realized that before he 
died, he had to save her. Even if it meant 
giving up everything he'd ever wanted. Even if 
it meant giving up Samantha.

"Mulder, I just want it to be the right time 
for us. Please. I'm not expecting it overnight, 
I just want something to look forward to. Can 
you give me that much?"
 
He gladly gave her that much and so much more. 
But there was no way to tell her.
 
"I just want you to get better, Mulder. I just 
want you to get . . ."
 
Her sobs were too much for him. He felt his 
heart breaking. He almost missed the tap on the 
window.
 
More sniffles and then her voice was right next 
to his ear. "I'll figure this out, Mulder. If I 
have to hold the lab at gunpoint, I will figure 
this out. We will have that chance, Mulder. I
swear we will."
 
He couldn't feel the kiss, but he knew the 
exact moment she placed it on his forehead.
 
Both Stonecypher and Kinsley were in the 
waiting room and it took everything in her for 
Scully to enter the room and join them. She 
wanted so much to run from the hospital and not 
look back. But she would never leave Mulder, 
and so she had to face the Agents from Hell.
Or at least the Agents who slept together.
 
"Dana, are you all right? Is he . . ." 
Stonecypher's face fell when she got a look at 
Scully.
 
"His condition is unchanged," Scully said 
shakily.
 
"Oh, you scared me. I thought he was . . ."
 
"Carla, why don't we take Dana down to the 
cafeteria and get her something to eat." He 
took Scully's hand and smiled at her. "You 
didn't get lunch before you left the hotel, and 
I bet you haven't eaten anything since you've 
been here," Mike interjected, saving Scully
from hearing Stonecypher give voice to her 
worst nightmare.
 
She wasn't really hungry, but it beat sitting 
and listening to more of Stonecypher and 
Kinsley's sex life, so Scully agreed.
 
They convinced her to get something other than 
coffee, so she took a tuna sandwich and an 
apple. She ate half the sandwich and left the 
rest to sit on her plate. The apple remained 
untouched. Carla picked at her salad and 
watched every move Scully made, as if expecting
her to burst into flames, or tears. Kinsley was 
oblivious, a state Scully assumed he occupied 
frequently, and wolfed down half of a roast 
beef sandwich before she'd even had two
bites.
 
"Man, this is tough meat," he said, chewing 
with some difficulty. "Guess they never heard 
of meat tenderizer."
 
"I read that meat tenderizer is nothing more 
than a muscle relaxant," Carla said causally, 
picking at a cherry tomato.
 
"Well, not exactly," Scully said, wiping her 
mouth on a paper napkin. "Actually, a muscle 
relaxant would . . ." She stared off into space, 
leaving the two other agents waiting for the 
rest of the sentence. When it looked like she'd
completely left the planet, Carla shook her 
shoulder.
 
"Dana? Dana, are you all right?"
 
"Muscle relaxant," Scully repeated. "That would 
explain it. It would account for the suppressed 
respiration, even the cardiac arrhythmia. The
muscles are so relaxed they aren't performing 
their assigned functions!"
 
"Do you have any idea what she's talking 
about?" Kinsley asked, never taking his eyes 
off Scully.

"Not a clue," Stonecypher assured him. "Maybe 
we should call someone," she added in a 
whisper.
 
"I have to get up to Mulder. I know what's 
wrong with him," Scully said and was out of her 
seat and to the door before either agent could 
say another word.
 
"And you said she said they aren't . . ."
 
"She's lying. It's obvious. They're doing it 
like bunnies," Stonecypher said with a shake of 
her head.
 
"Maybe she said that so you wouldn't win the 
pool," Kinsley said and gently rubbed his hand 
over Carla's arm.
 
She turned to him and gave him a brilliant 
smile. "Hey, what say we head back to the hotel 
and try out that in-room Jacuzzi?"
 
"Think it's OK to leave?" Mike asked. At her 
raised eyebrow, he licked his lip. "I'll pull 
the car around."
 
"No, Mike. I'll walk out to the car with you."

Mulder was getting scared. Scully had left and 
all of a sudden there were others in the room. 
He heard a voice he hadn't heard before and 
after a few minutes picked up the fact that 
this was a new doctor, a specialist who had 
been called in for a consultation. He knew
all too well that meant more tests because 
that's all specialists were ever good for. He 
dreaded any more pokes. The X rays hadn't been 
that much of a problem, but when they stuck 
needles in his skin, he could feel them. If
anything, because of the lose of his sight and 
ability to move, he felt them about a hundred 
times more than usual.

"I think we need a lumbar puncture, just to 
rule out meningitis," the new voice said.
 
"Should we wait for his partner?" Mulder 
remembered that voice, it was the nurse that 
had been in a couple of times already.

"She signed a release for medical tests, didn't 
she? I see no reason to wait."
 
Mulder would have groaned if he could have. 
This bastard was hell bent on jamming a metal 
rod into his spine and wasn't even going to 
wait for Scully to be in the room. Then another 
thought occurred to him. If they still thought
he was in a coma, they probably wouldn't worry 
about numbing the area.
 
Oh shit!
 
He could tell he was being rolled, simply by 
the change in positions and the sounds around 
him. The nurse was still talking to the doctor, 
telling him each step of the procedure as she
completed it. Mulder was waiting for the part 
where lidocaine was administered, but that part 
seemed to be missing. There was incredible 
pressure on his back when suddenly . . .
 
"What are you doing?"
 
The pressure let up and then left completely. 
Mulder wished he could sigh, but settled for 
just lying there in relief.
 
"Get out of this room! Who let you back here?"
 
"I'm a medical doctor and his partner. Why 
wasn't I informed that you intended to do a 
lumbar puncture?"
 
"You sighed the release, uh . . ."
 
"Dr. Scully," Mulder heard the nurse supply. 
Was that a little touch of 'boy, are you gonna 
get it' he heard in the nurse's voice?
 
"Look, there is no need for a lumbar puncture. 
I know what the problem is. A toxin from the 
creature that attacked my partner contained a 
muscle relaxer. I think, if you look closely at 
the EEG, you'll see that Agent Mulder isn't in 
a coma. His muscles are just very relaxed."
 
"That's insane!" the new doctor huffed, but 
Mulder could tell the guy was on the ropes and 
Scully was going to finish him off soon. Don't 
give him any quarter, Scully, Mulder mused with 
delight.
 
"I suggest we bring in a toxicologist who can 
identify the toxin and find an antidote to the 
effects," Scully said and Mulder would have 
given his right hand to see her squaring off 
against the overbearing doctor. Listening to 
her was well worth being nothing more than a
lump of flesh, for the moment. 

11:45 am

Mulder stretched, and felt every sore muscle 
and tender spot on his body. It felt wonderful. 
Reaching around on the bed, he finally came up 
with the television remote and flipped on a
channel.
 
Jerry Springer. Click.
 
He was sliding through the rest of the 
channels, looking for the elusive ESPN when 
Scully tapped on his door and he waved her in.
 
"There is nothing good on Orlando TV," he 
informed her as he passed the Disney channel 
for the second time.
 
"Well, your new doctor thinks you can leave 
tomorrow morning, so you don't have to endure 
it that much longer," she said with a grin.
 
"Where were you?" he asked, as she took his 
hand and started to stroke the back of it.
 
"I had to check us out of the hotel. The 
conference ended this morning and the rooms go 
up to $280 a night. I was informed that any 
additional nights charges would be our 
responsibility."
 
His jaw dropped. "They get almost 300 bucks a 
night? My God, Scully, we are in the wrong 
business!"
 
There was another tap on the door and both 
agents looked up to see Agents Kinsley and 
Stonecypher come in. Stonecypher was carrying a 
huge bouquet of flowers and Kinsley had three 
Mylar balloons attached to an empty wine
bottle.
 
"We hated to think that you two missed the 
dinner dance, so we brought you some of the 
decorations," Carla explained as she put the 
flowers on the windowsill and Mike placed the 
balloons on the dresser by Mulder's bed.
 
"Wow, I guess this has been a really bad
experience for you, huh, Agent Mulder? We'll 
never get you back at another conference!" 
Kinsley said with a shake of his head. 
Stonecypher stepped over next to him and 
reached for his hand. Without saying a word, he 
smiled and brought her hand up to his mouth for 
a quick kiss.
 
Scully turned away, and Mulder noticed. Then 
she released his hand and that hit him like a 
ton of bricks. He reached over the blankets and 
took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze and 
causing her to look up at him in shocked 
surprise.
 
"I don't know, Mike. There are still some areas 
of communication I think we might need to work 
on," he said solemnly.
 
Stonecypher picked up on the hint. "Well, have 
a safe trip back. And keep in touch." She 
pulled a protesting Kinsley out the door.
 
"What was that all about?" Scully grilled him 
as the two other agents left.
 
"Scully, we really need to talk," he said, and 
lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss, in 
perfect imitation of Agent Kinsley.

 
The end.