Scully looked at him. The man who was the embodiment of all things she distrusted. The man who could kill his own son and consign his wife to a living hell for some unseen, unexplained purpose. He sat beside her offering the unimaginable--the key to all things, the power to save the world.

"Won't you trust me?" he asked. At her look of disdain he only seemed amused. "How long did it take Mulder to win your trust?"

"I've always trusted Mulder."

"You aren't being honest with yourself. There was a time when you feared for your future, your career. . .when you were first partnered with this man." His calculating gaze slid over her profile. "I told you. I've studied you. You keep your guard up, a wall around your heart. How else do you explain your fearless devotion to a man obsessed yet a life alone? You would gladly die for Mulder, but you won't allow yourself to love him. . ."

Scully woke to a cold sweat and the sound of someone pounding on her motel room door. Finding her terry robe she cautiously opened the door.

"Well, helloooooo pretty lady."

She frowned sleepily. "Frohike?"

The short, wiry, balding little man in a black Metallica t-shirt and studded leather jacket sauntered into her motel room.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"You needed my help so I took the red eye flight."

"I didn't intend for you to come here. I could have Fed-exed the miniature camera."

"That would have been a big mistake. Might be confiscated by the post office." She looked doubtful and he added. "Besides, how could I pass up the opportunity for a weekend jaunt to the Mecca of UFO conspiracy experts everywhere?"

She glanced out the door. "Where are Langley and Byers?"

"Beyers is checking out a lead on how the AOL and Time Warner deal is really just a massive laundering scheme to finance the rise of a small, not-too-well-known near eastern country to world domination. "

"And Langley?"

"Hacking into the new CIA satellite feed." He surveyed the room. "Not such nice digs. I guess I should've taken Mulder seriously when he said the two of you could write a travelogue of every ratty motel in the U.S." He looked over his shoulder at Scully. "You should have used my summer house."

"You have a summer house?"

"Sure. Right here in the Mecca--"

"Of alien conspiracy nuts. I heard you the first time." She crossed her arms. "How exactly do you afford that?"

"Tech stocks."

"Didn't the NASDAQ take a dive?"

"You're obviously forgetting the 'conspiracy' part of the 'alien conspiracy nut.' The NASDAQ is nothing more than the virtual Waco for Bill Gates and Janet Reno--"

"So you cashed out before the market took a dive."

He bounced on the bed. "Naturally."

She held up her hands. "Could you stop bouncing? You're making me dizzy."

His cheerful face suddenly became concerned. "How are you holding up? You disappeared so quickly after you checked out of the hospital. I've gotta tell you, you scared the piss out of Beyers when you passed out cold like that. I know figuring out what was about to happen to Mulder must have been rough, but you're a kick-ass tough lady. You're not sick again are you?"

"The cancer hasn't returned if that's what you're asking."

"Well that's one good thing." The lines on his face became deeper. "And. . . uh. . .how are you doing without everyone's favorite G man?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't.

"Scully," he said compassionately.

"I know."

He nodded. Words weren't needed to express some forms of grief. "So," he began again. "Where's this camera you found?"

She walked to the table, picked it up and handed it to Frohike. He pulled a jeweler's loop from his pocket. "Hmm, nice workmanship." Dropping the loop he looked at her. "I'd say it's FBI issue. Could be CIA but the technology is a few years shy of cutting edge."

"The FBI is spying on me?" She didn't sound as shocked as any other agent would be. She was mildly surprised, however. After all, both the Syndicate and the Smoking Man were supposed to be dead--though she was many years removed from the naiveté that would cause her to believe everything she heard.

"Didn't say it was the FBI. Said it could be the FBI. Hey I saw donuts down in the motel lobby. You want donuts? What am I saying. You're a cop--well sort of a cop--of course you want donuts."

She crossed her arms. "Frohike."

"What?"

"You were saying about the camera. . .?"

"Oh. Well yeah, it looks like FBI issue but it's been tampered with. Not bad work, but not quite to manufacturing standards." Seeing her impatience he added, "I think I can trace its signal."

She didn't ask how he had the technology to do that. He had probably invented it. "Do you have that sort of equipment here?"

"No, but I think I may have something at my summer house."

* * *

Maria rushed into the Crashdown. "Michael, I've got to talk to you." Seeing Tess pouring Tobasco into a Cherry Coke, Maria snarled. "What are you doing here?"

Tess lifted her glass. "Breakfast, what does it look like?"

"Disgusting," Maria said. "And the drink doesn't look so good either."

Glancing at Michael, Tess said, "Your pet is grouchy in the morning."

"Shew!" Maria waived her hands at Tess. "Go. Out."

Tess picked up her drink and slinked away to a corner booth. Maria flung the stack of papers onto the counter. "Michael, you have got to read this."

He glanced at the journal then rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

She darted around the camera. "No seriously, Michael. This Agent Scully. She knows things. Big things. Alie. . .um. . . Czechoslovakian things."

"She's part of the FBI alien hunters?"

"--well sort of but not really--"

"Damnit," he griped. "Nasedo was supposed to take care of that. That's the reason he turned himself into Agent Pierce. What's he doing if he isn't--"

"Michael!" Maria interrupted, "I don't think Agent Scully is one of the bad guys."

"Why?"

"Look," Maria pointed at a passage in the journal. "She called her partner's mind 'beautiful.'"

"So?"

"So if I ever said your mind was beautiful I would be blind, stupid in love." When he rolled his eyes she added archly, "If not just plain stupid."

"So she's stupid."

"Ugh! No. Don't you get it? This woman has feelings. No one with a soul could just like destroy you."

Michael started shaking his head. "Just because she has a jones for some guy, doesn't mean she wouldn't turn us into zoo exhibits. Wake up, Maria, don't use stupid girl logic."

Maria crossed her arms. "A girl might find a remark like that offensive."

"But accurate."

How could Maria explain to him so that he would see? In some bizarre way Maria felt a connection to this woman. Maybe it was Scully's ten page exposition about her 'beautifully minded' partner's 'vision' of a child and life with a woman that Scully clearly hated that had sparked Maria's sense of sisterhood. Maybe it was Scully's sense of being overwhelmed by things beyond her control. Or maybe it was Scully's ability to pick up the pieces of a shattered life and somehow hold everything together, to continue ever onward, that inspired Maria's empathy and respect. Whatever the reason, Maria trusted her.

"She's discovered things about the aliens," Maria said bluntly.

"Um. . .you may have forgotten, I'm the alien."

"No, the other ones."

"What other ones?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Geez, did you miss that part of the whole orb thing?" Silently she wondered, or were you so thrilled by your 'destiny' with Isabel that you missed it? "Max and Isabel's mother mentioned a war."

"I remember that part."

Maria hit the papers. "Well it's in here. Shapeshifters, an alien war, an invasion, everything. It's here."

"Who said anything about an invasion?"

"They're already here. Max and Isabel's mother said so. Something about 'recognizing the evil within.'"

He looked almost angry. "Liz sure as hell gave you a play by play didn't she?"

"Someone had to."

"It's none of your--"

"Don't!" she cried. "Don't you dare tell me that it's none of my business, or that it doesn't matter to me, or that I don't 'understand.' This is my life too, you know. I hate it but it is, and I deserve better than being kept in the dark."

Which of course Michael already knew. Maria was certain of it. He had heard it all. He remembered it all. He just wanted to keep her out of it. He was pushing her away as hard as he could.

"This agent knows too much," Tess drawled almost in Maria's ear.

Maria screamed and jumped. "I thought I saw you go sit in the corner."

Tess gave a smug smile. "You did."

"But you were sitting here all along weren't you?" Maria accused. "You just made us see you walk away."

Tess shrugged. "You only saw what you wanted to see."

"Yeah, right."

"It's true. My little mind tricks. . .Well, I can't make you see anything you don't want to, or need to, or fear to. It has to be in your head to begin with. I just give you a mental push," Tess explained.

"Then push yourself way, way away. For real this time," Maria snapped.

Tess shrugged. "I'll just call Nasedo and he can take care of this FBI agent."

Michael caught Tess' arm. "Take care of her?" he asked. "Like he 'took care' of the others?"

Tess shrugged her narrow shoulders. "What do I care?"

"She hasn't done anything!" he protested reflexively.

"She is a danger to us. That's all I have to know." She slanted her ice blue eyes at Michael, "Don't get squeamish now Michael. It's not like you haven't done the same thing yourself."

"That was different!" Maria protested vehemently. "That was--"

"I can talk for myself," he growled then looked darkly at Tess. "Don't call, Nasedo. We'll take of this."

"She's only a human," Tess said dismissively.

"Only a human?" Maria said with outrage. "Only a human?! Of all the racist--You know, you're mostly human yourself."

Tess looked at her in a way that reminded Maria of this little kid she used to babysit. He looked just like that just before he turned a magnifying glass on ants and incinerated them.

"We'll take care of this," Michael said and headed out the door.

* * *

Special Agent Pierce, or at least what looked like Special Agent Pierce, stood unblinking in A.D. Skinner's office.

"You can't seriously question my assignment of a case file," Walter Skinner said with disbelief and distaste. Skinner was a tall, muscular man whose build and intense expression belied his bureaucratic dress and office.

"The case was closed," Pierce insisted.

"You closed it?"

"Yes."

"I opened it." Skinner's eyes narrowed behind his wire rimmed glasses. "Look at the name on that door, Agent. It says assistant director. I outrank you."

The 'agent' protested. "I have special dispensation--"

"From who?" Skinner demanded as he stood, moving from behind his desk and circled Pierce. "Who would give you autonomy, Agent?"

Pierce slanted the director a dark, disdainful glance but said nothing.

"There is no one," Skinner specifically emphasized, "alive who could give you the authority to bypass my chain of command. Your Roswell reports are now part of the X-Files."

"And the X-Files?" his subordinate asked.

"What about the X-Files?"

"Do they still exist?"

"What are you asking?"

"Rumors abound, sir," Pierce said quietly but there was no respect in his voice. "How can there be X-Files when there is no one to investigate them?"

"I don't know what rumors you have heard, but the X-Files are still under my command and have my full support. You may go."

Pierce didn't move. "Those files on Roswell should be closed."

"I said you should go."

Pierce eyed the director with a coldly, calculating stare. He seemed on the verge of a decision when there was a knock on the door. Skinner's pretty, blonde secretary announced "There is someone to see you, sir." Before she could finish the introduction, a dark haired, handsome man walked into the room.

Dressed all in black Alex Krychek's eyes raked over both Agent Pierce and A.D. Skinner.

A mixture of anger, distrust, and discomfort flashed across Skinner's face. "Why are you here?" he demanded.

"Not happy to see me?" Krychek asked dryly. He approached Pierce and stated baldly, "The old bastard is dead. I killed him. You have no autonomy."

Skinner glanced at both Krychek and Pierce as the two stared at one another in malevolent silence. Finally Krychek said, "Come with me."

Pierce seemed to think about that for a moment then nodded.

"Wait," Skinner growled. "Where do you think you're going?"

Krychek slid his glance to Skinner. "I'm not going to tell you. And don't fool yourself, you aren't going to stop me."