NEW: (30/29) "Snapshot:Epilogue"

[Dawson E. Rambo]

"Snapshot:Epilogue"
By Dawson E. Rambo

Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any other tangentially
mentioned characters were created by Chris Carter, and remain the
copyrighted property of him, TenThirteen Productions, and Fox
Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. All characters are used
without permission, and no infringement is intended.
Archivists : Sure. Just make sure to keep my email address and this
entire text as is without changes.

Feedback : Please. Positive, negative, what have you. Address
is dra...@primenet.com.

**********************************************
WARNING! WARNING! DANGER WILL ROBINSON...
**********************************************

This Epilogue is for serious, die-hard `shippers ONLY. If you are an
anti-shipper, reading this story may, frankly, cause you to go BLIND.

I AM SERIOUS.

Similar warnings go out to diabetics that have not had the `ol insulin
yet.

Contained herein is:
The Wedding;
The Birth;
All Lose Ends Tied Up;
Sappy Lovey-Dovey Speeches Said At The Alter
and much, much more.

Johnny....TELL THEM WHAT THEY'VE WON!

Enjoy!

=================================================================

NEW YORK TIMES
Monday, April 21, 1997
Headline : CIA OFFICIAL ARRESTED ON ESPIONAGE CHARGES
(Langley, VA) [AP] - Special Agents from the Federal Bureau of
Investigation served an arrest warrant at CIA headquarters today, taking
into custody an unnamed employee on charges of international espionage.
Citing national security concerns, Assistant Director Walter Skinner
declined to identify the arrestee until they could be arraigned. When
pressed for details, FBI Assistant Director Skinner referred all
questions to the office of the Attorney General of the United States.
Repeated calls to the Attorney General's office were not returned.

NEW YORK TIMES
Tuesday, April 22, 1997
Headline : CIA OFFICIAL DIES IN CUSTODY
(Washington) [AP] - The Federal Bureau of Investigation announced today
that the suspect they had arrested yesterday in conjunction with
espionage charges has apparently killed herself while in custody. Once
again, citing the need to notify family members, Assistant Director
Walter Skinner declined to identify the suspect.
Calls to the Attorney General's office were not returned, and the
FBI declined to provide details regarding the method by which the
accused spy killed themselves.

WASHINGTON POST - METRO SECTION
Friday, April 25, 1997
Headline : DECORATED WAR VET BURIED AT ARLINGTON
(Arlington, VA) [Special to the Washington Post] - Sergeant First Class
Walter Starke, USA (ret.) was buried with full military honors today. He
has no surviving relatives.
While assigned to Special Forces during the Gulf War, Sergeant
Starke conducted several dozen behind-the-lines missions into Iraq and
occupied Kuwait. During his career in the Army, Sergeant Starke had been
awarded the Distinguished Service Medal (The nation's third-highest
award for valor in combat,) the Silver Star, two Bronze Stars, three
Purple Hearts, the Combat Infantry Badge and several service medals.
During his career, Starke had served with the 82nd Airborne
Division, the 101st Airborne (Airmobile) Division, the Fifth Special
Forces Group, and was rumored to have been assigned to the still-
classified Delta Force. He had served as an instructor at the Army
Airborne School at Ft. Benning, Georgia, and at the Infantry School,
also at Fort Benning. Additionally, he served two tours as an instructor
at the John F. Kennedy School for Special Warfare at Fort Bragg, NC
After retiring from the Army, Sergeant Starke became a Dunwoody,
Georgia police officer, rising to the rank of Detective before being
dismissed for reasons that remain unclear.
When asked for details about Starke's death, the Department of the
Army issued an official "No Comment" statement. Sources inside the
Department of the Army confirm that Starke died under what they call
"mysterious" circumstances, but declined to elaborate, pointing out that
Starke had served his country for over twenty years, and had been
discharged with full honors.

*** CLASSIFIED ***
NOFORDIS:CODE WORD CLASSIFIED
CLASSIFIED : TOP SECRET - JEWEL/QUINCY/FOX
TO: STATCHEF, AMEMB, ISRAEL
FROM: DCI
CC: : DDO
: DDI
: ADDFO
DATE : 24JUNE97
TIME : 0944ZULU
MESSAGE FOLLOWS:

*** BURN AFTER READING
*** NO COPIES
*** NO FOREIGN DISTRIBUTION
*** EYES ONLY TO CIA STATCHEF, AMEMB, ISRAEL

1) MOSSAD AGENT SCIMITAR ARRIVING YOUR OPS AREA TODAY 24 JUNE 97 1400
HOURS LOCAL TIME (1200 HOURS GMT). YOU ARE NOT REPEAT NOT TO
PLACE SUBJECT UNDER SURVAILENCE. YOU ARE NOT REPEAT NOT TO ENGAGE
IN ANY ACTIVITIES THAT MAY LIMIT SCIMITAR'S MOVMENT. SCIMITAR IS
HEREBY REMOVED FROM OFFICIAL CIA SANCTION LIST FOREVER.
2) REF IS MADE TO (1) ABOVE. IF SUBJECT SCIMITAR IS INTERFERED WITH
IN ANY WAY, ANY AND ALL AGENTS, CASE OFFICERS, CONFIDENTIAL
INFORMANTS OR OTHER CIA EMPLOYEES (CONTRACT OR OTHERWISE) WILL BE
IMMEDIATELY TERMINATED WITH ALL LOSS OF PENSION AND BENEFITS.
3) CIA STATCHEF, AMEMB, ISRAEL WILL IMMEDIATELY AND WITHOUT DELAY
FOWARD ALL WRITTEN AND ELECTRONIC INFORMATION REGARDING SCIMITAR
TO THE MIDEASTERN AFFAIRS DESK, CIA HEADQUARTERS, LANGLEY,
VIRGINA, NO LATER THAN TWENTY-FOUR (24) HOURS AFTER CONFIRMED
RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE. FAILURE TO COMPLY WITH THIS DIRECTIVE
WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE ACTION BEING TAKEN AGAINST CIA STATCHEF,
AMEMB, ISRAEL.
4) CIA STATCHEF, AMEMB, ISRAEL WILL IMMEDIATELY AND WITHOUT REPEAT
WITHOUT DELAY CONVEY WARMEST PERSONAL REGARDS OF DCI TO DAVID
URION, MOSSAD EMPLOYEE VIA FBI ASSISTANT DIRECTOR WALTER SKINNER
EGARDING ICARUS PROJECT.

MESSAGE ENDS.

SIGNED,
DIRECTOR, CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE
VIA DEPUTY DIRECTOR, OPERATIONS
VIA DEPUTY DIRECTOR, INTELLIGENCE
VIA ASSISTANT DEPUTY DIRECTOR, FIELD OPERATIONS

PAVE CREEK MOUNTAIN DAILY PRESS
Friday, April 25, 1997
HEADLINE : ZACK TARSES, 16, BURIED TODAY
Zachary Tarses, sixteen, was buried today at St. Peter's First
Methodist Church Cemetery after a short memorial service conducted by
Father Peter Stone. Mr. Tarses is survived by his parents, Emily and
Jacob Tarses. Details on the boy's death were not immediately
forthcoming from the parents, but sources close to the family have told
the Pave Creek Mountain Daily Press that Mr. Tarses suffered from a rare
metabolic liver condition.
Police are still declining to explain rumors that the boy died
inside a cave in the Pave Creek woodlands. Family members, when asked,
had no comment.

=================================================================

FBI Headquarters
November 19, 1997
Office of ASAC Fox Mulder
11:30am

Assistant Director Walter Skinner glanced around the office and
shook his head. How anyone managed to function in this conglomeration of
newspaper clippings, tabloid magazine covers, old coffee cups and God
only knew what else was beyond him. Somehow, he knew, Mulder and Scully
managed to not only operate in this environment, but made it seem as if
every FBI bullpen should look like this.
Advancing into the room a few steps, Skinner spotted the newly-
promoted Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the Special Projects
Division sitting behind his desk, feet on the blotter, attempting to
look casual as he read a copy of "Omni."
Skinner, hands on his hips, looked away, trying to fix a stern
gaze on his face, trying incredibly hard not to laugh. Mulder was
holding the magazine upside down. Well, that was understandable, Skinner
thought to himself. After all, his new bride is expecting the birth of
their first child any day now, and she had ordered Mulder from the new
house they had just bought in the Virginia countryside. Apparently,
Mulder had been driving her insane.
"Sir," Mulder said, quickly moving his feet to the floor.
Skinner waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Mulder, you're
management now. You can call me Walter."
"Yes, si....er, Walter." He paused. "It still feels strange in my
mouth, sir."
"I'd imagine it will for some time, Mulder."
Mulder fidgeted for a moment. Finally, he asked, "Is there
something I can do for you, sir?"
"No, Mulder. I just came down to see how you were doing. Abby
tells me that you're slowly going insane, waiting for the baby and all."
Mulder nodded, morose. "Scully kicked me out," he said softly, the
little-boy-lost tone in his voice again forcing Skinner to control his
facial expressions. "Is that so?" the A.D. asked.
"Yes," Mulder said, now in full-petulance mode. "She told me not
to come home until tonight, and that if I had to work late it wouldn't
exactly break her fragile heart."
Skinner could see the words coming out of Scully's mouth,
underneath one of her sarcastically arched eyebrows. A part of Skinner
felt for Mulder.
A very small part.
Mulder realized the magazine was upside down and quickly corrected
it. He fiddled with it for a few seconds and then tossed it in his OUT
basket and folded his hands in his lap. That lasted for a few moments,
and then he was moving again, his hands nervously fluttering this way
and that.
"Will you calm down?" Skinner asked.
"I'm trying!" Mulder retorted. He sat, took a deep breath and
steepled his fingers under his chin. The gold ring on the fourth finger
of his left hand caught the light, twinkling in Skinner's eyes.
As Skinner watched, Mulder's thumb came up from underneath and
began slowly twirling the ring on his finger.
"Still not used to it?" Skinner asked. Noticing the confused
expression, Skinner pointed. "The ring, I mean."
"I guess not," Mulder admitted sheepishly. He turned his hand over
so he could look at the ring, and decided to think back to the single
best day of his life so far...

***

Friday, June 20, 1997
United States National Cathedral
1400 Hours (2:00pm)

Mulder stood at the alter, feeling Skinner behind him. He glanced
over his shoulder and smiled at his boss, the only man he could think of
to ask to be his best man. Scully had suggested that he ask one of the
Gunmen, but Mulder had decided that he couldn't ask one of them without
offending the other two.
They were at the alter with Skinner and Mulder, standing just
behind the groom and best man, acting as ushers and groomsmen. Turning
back to face forward, Mulder smiled at the two clergymen standing,
waiting for what they were all waiting for : Scully.
The Catholic priest turned and glanced at his cohort the Rabbi.
The Rabbi nodded in the sage, wise way they all seemed to master
somehow, and all eyes turned once again to the back of the church. There
was some commotion, and then one of Scully's brothers stepped in the
rear door and nodded at Skinner.
"It's time. We have to go," Skinner said.
"Don't leave," Mulder whispered urgently. "I'll pass out, I know
it."
"Be steady, Mulder," Skinner whispered. "I know you can do it."
With that, the Gunmen and Skinner walked down the isle, heading towards
the rear of the church. As he watched them go, Mulder glanced at the
crowd and wondered what, exactly, the society wags would be writing for
Sunday's paper. This just had to be the oddest congregation the National
Cathedral had ever seen.
Ever.
Sprinkled among the congregation were representatives of perhaps
the highest elechons of the intelligence community, the Attorney General
herself, most of the senior FBI brass, author Josie Chung, and God only
knew how many other flakes and freaks. The entire Denver HRT team had
flown in for the ceremony, as had most of the Navy SEALs from Team Six.
Sweeping the crowd to keep his mind off the impending nuptials,
Mulder caught the side of a face out of the corner of one eye that made
him stop. Slowly, as not to spook his quarry, Mulder moved his gaze
back.
Wow, he thought. That man looks a lot like... Was it Jacob Tarses?
No, Jacob was much older. That man looks exactly what Mulder would
expect Zack to look like in about ten years. Mulder felt a shiver up his
back and turned his attention to something else.
The ceremony was starting. The first bridesmaid was standing at
the rear of the church, on Frohickie's arm. Frohickie had his head up,
like he was an English duke or something, but Mulder was still glad to
see his old friend. Frohickie was never going to win and beauty
contests, but he managed to clean up fairly well.
These thoughts were running through Mulder's head as Frohickie and
the bridesmaid made their way up the isle. One by one, the bridesmaids
made their way up the isle, escorted by the ushers. There were only
three in each party. Anyone counting would realize that Scully was shy
one matron or maid of honor.
But that was not the case, for one very special reason.
The organ music moved to a crescendo, and Mulder felt his stomach
clutch into a tight, hard knot.
There was movement at the rear of the church.
A flash of black formal tuxedo (with tails,) and then...
A flash of white.
Blinding, crystal pure white.
With a gasp, Mulder saw Scully in her wedding dress for the first
time.
She was a vision.
A goddess.
The most perfect woman Mulder had ever seen.
And she was walking down the isle to marry him.
Fox Mulder.
Him.
Escorted by Assistant Director Walter Skinner, who was going to
perform a `first' in the National Cathedral. He was not only acting as
Mulder's Best Man, but at Scully's personal request, Skinner was also
giving the bride away, standing in for a man that would have been as
proud as a father could on this day.
All concerned were sure that wherever Captain William Scully, USN,
was, he was looking down with a warm, fatherly smile on his face.
Slowly, Scully and Skinner made their way down the isle.
The Catholic priest stepped forward.
"Who gives this woman?" he asked, his voice booming over the
crowd.
"I do," Skinner said.
"Are you the woman's father?" the priest demanded, although he
already knew the answer. Scully had asked Skinner to come up with
something to say at this point, and as recently as the rehearsal dinner
three nights ago, Walter had been stumped.
"I am her father in spirit, in the way that a father guides a
daughter, in the way a parent loves and protects a child. She is not
borne of me, Father, but I count her as one of my own. I have promised
myself and God that I will always look out for my daughter, that I will
be there for her when she has questions of life, questions of Faith, and
need of a father to talk to. I will be a proud grandfather to her
children. I stand here as...a father in spirit."
Mulder felt the lump in his throat and blinked, trying to get the
sudden stinging out of his eyes. Skinner turned to Scully and slowly
lifted her veil, draping it over the top of her head.
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. "Go in
love," Skinner whispered. "Take care of him, he needs you so much," he
added.
"Thank you, Walter," Scully said, impulsively throwing an arm
around her boss, this man who had come to mean such much to her. "I need
him, too." Skinner did not reply; he just stepped back, nodded at his
favorite agent, and stepped up to stand beside Mulder.
Scully stepped up to the altar and took Mulder's offered hand. She
looked deeply into his eyes, and felt herself drowning. His smile was
soft and gentle, mostly in his eyes, but for the first time in a long
time, on his face, too.
The service moved swiftly after that. The two clergymen had forged
a way to combine the tenants of both religions in a simple, yet powerful
ceremony.
Then came the vows.
The priest stepped forward and addressed the congregation. "As is
the custom these days, the bride and groom have asked permission to say
their own vows. After consulting with each of them privately, my
distinguished colleague and I agree that only perhaps God himself could
have written a more...apt set of vows for these two people."
And with that, the priest stepped back and motioned for Mulder to
begin.
Mulder felt the sweat in the palms of his hands. He
surreptitiously wiped his hands on his pants and then took Scully's in
them.
A hush fell over the church as Mulder began to speak.
"Dana Scully..." he started, and then faltered. Even now, her name
felt so strange in his mouth. "Scully, " he began again, "we've known
each other as friends for so long that I don't know where I end and you
begin." He paused, wanting each word he spoke to be forever imprinted on
her mind. "You are my best friend. You are the first person I think of
in the morning, and the last before I go to sleep. My life is incomplete
without you, and you have chosen to spend it with me. I could not be
more honored, Scully. I hope that by the grace of God, and through the
strength of our love, I prove a worthy husband to you as we continue
down this road together." He paused, and then added, "I love you, Dana
Scully."
Scully felt the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill
over and ruin her carefully applied makeup. She was so incredibly happy
at this moment that she thought her heart would burst.
"Fox Mulder," she began. "You, too, are my best friend. When we
met, I was...amazed at this person that I found. This incredibly
intelligent, interesting man who captured my heart without even knowing
it. The road that we have chosen to take together had led us to some
very interesting, very strange places, my love, and I look forward to
going to new strange, interesting places with you. When the poets speak
of love, they can never capture the true essence of what it is to be one
of a pair, a singular part of a whole, half of a beating, living heart
that lives in both our spirits. The poets cannot write of the voices
that speak in our souls in the space between two heartbeats. We, only
we, know that they are there, and we rejoice in our voices finding each
other. I love you, Fox Mulder."
The entire church waited almost four full heartbeats before
exploding in a standing ovation.

***

The rest of the service flew by. It took only six or seven more
minutes before the rabbi and the priest stood before the congregation
and said, "We now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss each
other."
The kiss was sweet, neither as sweet as the ones before it, nor as
sweet as the ones to come. It was sweet in its own regard, for there
would only be one First Kiss as man and wife.
The rabbi stepped forward, since he had won the toss.
"I now present," he said above the din, "Mr. Fox Mulder and Mrs.
Dana Scully-Mulder!"
Mulder stood, looking into his wife's eyes, seeing perhaps the
most beautiful expression he had ever imagined on her face. She leaned
in for a kiss, and as Mulder tilted his head to accept and return it, he
caught movement out of the corner of his eye. As he kissed her, Mulder
tried to pinpoint what it was that had caught his attention.
It was the face that he thought had looked like Zack. And the face
had company, and they were both leaving. Mulder watched as the man
stood, smiled at Scully's back and waved at Mulder. The woman standing
next to him was just about his age, with long dark hair. She smile at
Mulder, too, waved and blew a kiss. She held up an envelope and waved it
at him, and then laid it down on the pew, turned and followed her friend
out of the church.
It took Mulder a moment to realize that the man walking away with
the dark-haired girl was wearing sneakers with those little tail-lights
in the heels.
Breaking the kiss, Mulder took his wife's hand. "Scully, C'mon!"
he said urgently, moving down the alter and towards the pew. Scully,
holding up the hem of her skirt with her one free hand, followed as best
she could. She had forced Mulder to make a solemn vow that he would
never, ever ditch her again, and, since he was living up to his promise,
Scully had little room to complain.
There were two envelopes in the pew.
Both addressed to Fox. Well, one was address to "Mr. Mulder."
The other was to "Fox."
Mulder sank down in the pew and reached, with shaking hands, for
the one labeled "Mr. Mulder." Opening it, he extracted a single sheet of
heavy bond paper. Scully moved so she could read the short note over her
husband's shoulder.

"Mr. Mulder," it started.

"I promised you that I would find your sister, and I did. It
didn't take long, as her signature was very easy to follow. She
told me that she wanted to see your wedding, and so we did. Your
sister has written you a separate note, the contents of which I am
not aware of. But I do know that she does not want to stay on this
world right now. It has nothing, I know, to do with you, Fox.

"I wanted to thank you for all you did. I read my own obituary,
which was a bit strange. Sort of like Tom Sawyer, ya know? I've
been to visit my parents, and they are both doing well. I wish you
and Miss Scully the best of luck in the future. I will be keeping
an eye on you always, Fox, helping you when you need it, and
getting out of your way when you need that.

"Be well, Fox.

Zack "Ike" Tarses

Mulder exhaled slowly, carefully folding the letter and putting it back
inside the envelope. He looked at the other one, simply labeled "Fox."
"Are you going to read it?" Scully asked.
"Of course. I just want to savor this last moment of not knowing."
He laughed at himself, and then reached, eagerly, for the first contact
he'd had from his sister in almost two decades.

"Fox," it started.

"Please don't hate me. When Zack found me and told me what was
happening in your life, how you'd dedicated your entire existence
to finding me and bringing me back, I was sad. Not sad that my
brother, whom I love more than anything in the world, loves me
enough to dedicate his entire life to me. I was sad because I
cannot find the words to tell you why I am unable to return to you
now. It has nothing to do with conspiracies or evil, Fox. That was
what got me here, but it is not what is keeping me here.

"I have only a few words. Live your life, Fox. You are seeking a
greater truth, and I will do or write nothing to dissuade you from
that search, because as you have so rightly discovered, it is your
destiny to be a truth-seeker, just as it is mine to lend you a
guiding hand from a place where we cannot touch each other.

"I am happy that you have found love. Rejoice in that love, my
brother, for love is what guides the stars, as the song said. No
matter how many miles separate us, Fox, we will always be
together.

"I love you,
Samantha."

***

FBI Headquarters
November 19, 1997
Office of ASAC Fox Mulder
11:35am

"Lost in thought?" Skinner asked.
"Yeah," Mulder admitted. "Thinking about the-"
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
Mulder reached for his pager, thinking that it was one of the
Gunmen or the lab or someone else.
But it was not.
There was three digits in the pager, their agreed-upon signal.
"123"
"Holy shit!" Mulder said, reaching for his phone, punching the
speed dial.
She answered on the first ring.
"It's time, Mulder."
"Scully, are you sure!"
"Mulder, I'm a doctor. I'm sure. Meet me at Georgetown."
"On my way," Mulder said. He stood and reached for his jacket. He
looked at Skinner, a stricken expression on his face. "Sir, I hate to
ask..."
Skinner took one look at his new Assistant Special Agent in Charge
and grinned. "Aw, shit, Fox...I'll drive."

***
Georgetown Hospital
Emergency Entrance

The Official FBI-issued Chevy Caprice classic issued to AD
Skinner, its' red bubble light stuck firmly to the roof by a magnet, the
siren squealing, slid to a perfect stop outside the ER entrance.
AD Skinner and ASOC Mulder exited the car and dashed past
security. Mulder, in a rare moment of preparedness, had already scouted
the hospital out. He knew that Labor & Delivery was on the fourth floor,
south side. He led the way, with Skinner trailing behind.
They burst through the double doors leading onto the ward,
into the smiling face of an L&D nurse. "Room six," she said, pointing.
Mulder wheelied around the corner, his arms windmilling to keep his
balance, and through the door to Room Six. Skinner, understanding that
this was a private moment between parents, stood outside.
After a moment, he began to pace.

***
Georgetown Hospital
Labor and Delivery Unit
Room Six
Four Hours Later

"One more push," the OB-GYN said, softly. "And that should do it."
Mulder looked at his wife and smiled. "One more little one?" he asked.
"Mulder," Scully wheezed, "you realize we are never, ever having
sex again?"
"I realize that," Mulder said, nodding. "I love you anyway. Now
push, please." Reaching out with a damp rag, Mulder wiped his wife's
forehead as she prepared to bear down one last time.
Scully's face was sweaty, her hair in disarray. The labor pains
had been as severe as she'd thought, but through sheer willpower,
correct breathing, the support of her partner, it'd been bearable.
That, and about 20mgs of Demerol.
Taking a deep breath, Scully summoned the last ounces of energy in
her body and pushed. There was a momentary feeling of resistance, and
then...
Over.
It was over. She felt the baby sliding down the birth canal and
out.
God, almighty it was over.
"Beautiful," the doctor was saying. "So, so beautiful." He moved
quickly. "Mr. Mulder, would you like to cut the cord?"
He handed Mulder a pair of scissors, and the proud father reached
down and quickly cut where the OB indicated. "Ten fingers, ten toes,
APGAR is fifteen. Perfect baby. Congratulations, Dr. Scully, Mr.
Mulder."
The parents exchanged a glance.
"Is it a boy? A girl?" Mulder demanded.
The OB smiled, and lifted an incredibly small, tightly wrapped
bundle in his arms. Stepping around the table, he offered the baby to
the proud parents.
"Look for yourself," he said.

***
Four minutes later

Mulder bounded out of the room, the widest smile Skinner had ever
seen splitting the young agent's face.
"I'm a father!" he shouted. "Holy shit! I'm a father!" Skinner
walked up and offered his hand.
"How's Scully?" he asked.
"She's perfect. Wonderful. Best ever! She was incredible, sir! She
was a champ!"
"The baby?"
"Perfect! Ten fingers, ten toes, perfect apnea!"
"APGAR," a passing nurse corrected.
"APGAR, SCHMAPGAR!" Mulder shouted. "I'm a FATHER!"
"It wasn't born with a tail, was it?" Skinner asked, unable to
resist.
Mulder burst out laughing, not even getting the joke. "No, sir!"
"Well, are you going to keep me in suspense? Is it a boy or a
girl?" Skinner demanded.
Mulder reached out an arm and steadied himself against Skinner's
shoulder. "I gotta sit down," he moaned. "I don't feel too-"
And with that, Mulder passed out. He fell, face forward, directly
onto the linoleum floor of the hospital corridor.
Skinner stared down at his agent...his friend.
Looking up, he addressed a passing nurse. "You want to help me
with this?"
"New father?"
"Yup."
The nurse grunted as she helped Mulder to his feet along with
Skinner. "What does nursing lore say about fathers that faint when their
babies are born?" Skinner asked.
The nurse's smile was enigmatic. "They make the best ones."
Skinner nodded.
"Ma'am...you have no idea."
******************************************************

THE END
(Really, I mean it this time...)

PLEASE send feed any and all feedback to dra...@primenet.com.

--
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dra...@primenet.com =*= Dawson E. Rambo =*= Writer/Programmer/NetAdmin
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