Disclaimers: Mulder, Scully and Skinner aren't mine. Randi, Carol Randall, Erin Bethel and Daniel McMillan ARE mine. So, if you want to use one of the latter four, please ask me first. :-)

Dedication: Dedicated to XPFC. You'll know why soon. :-) And to my mother, who lent her name and some of her wisdom to Carol Randall.

Rating: PG

Category: SRA

Summary: With a little help from Randi, Mulder and Scully are beginning to come to a better understanding of faith, love, themselves and each other. But just as they realize how much they mean to each other, Mulder disappears.

IMPORTANT notes about this story: I am a person for whom faith has played a very important role in my life, much like Randi. Because of that, I have always felt that everyone needs something to believe in. And since, in this series, Mulder has lost everything he believes in--Sam and Scully--it was important for me to give him something else, something--or Someone--that would never leave him or be taken away. So, even though some of you may find this unlikely, I had him turn to God. And, since I have always believed he came from a dual heritage--Christian and Jewish, although both downplayed in light of the cynical atheism his parents had developed through his father's work--I took him to the one place I thought could bridge that confusing gap, a Messianic Jewish Synagogue. As for Scully, I believe she has faith, but just doesn't make it a very big part of her life. So, I gave her the chance to seek out a renewal. If this offends anyone, I'm sorry, but it was what I felt needed to be done.

"Schism: Summons"
by Azar

**X-Files Office**
**June 20, 1998**

Mulder had just finished reading the tabloid article when he heard the door open. He glanced up, and a look of surprise crossed his face. "Back so soon?"

Randi grinned at him from the doorway, then crossed to his desk and seated herself on it just as she had about five minutes ago. "Yep. I decided you're coming with me."

The agent raised an eyebrow and his companion flinched slightly.

My word--they've even picked up each other's mannerisms, she reflected in grim surprise.

"Coming with you where?" he asked.

She grinned. "To Church, if that's okay with you."

"On a Saturday?"

Randi nodded, still smiling with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Yep. I won't *force* you to come with me if you don't want to, but something told me you might find the experience interesting."

Mulder's face betrayed his curiosity. "Well..."

"C'mon, don't tell me the man who orders mushroom pizza for breakfast is unnerved by a Saturday Church service," she teased, her eyes twinkling in a manner that intrigued him but still made it plain that he was under no obligation to go.

"Okay, I admit it, you got my curiosity up."

"Good. You need to get out of this office after spending the night here."

He looked surprised. "How did you know--?"

"Simple--I tried calling you all night at your apartment and didn't get an answer, so I figured you must be here." She grinned. "Oh, and bring a hat if you have one."

With that cryptic remark, she turned and strode out the door, pausing to wait for him in the hallway.

A hat? For a moment, Mulder just stared at her, but she only grinned, silently refusing to abate his curiosity. Finally, he shrugged, picked up his coat and a baseball cap that was buried a little further down on the rack, then followed her into the hall, closing the door behind him.

**Parking Garage**

"So, where are we going?" Mulder asked as he slipped into the passenger seat of Randi's rental car.

She smiled. "Have you ever been to a Messianic Jewish service, Fox?"

He shook his head. "I...don't think so. What do you mean by 'Messianic'?"

"Messianic Jews believe that Y'shua, Jesus, is the Messiah."

"So, basically they're Jews who have converted to Christianity?"

"Not...exactly. They don't consider themselves converts, per se, and they still keep all of the Jewish holidays and traditions, just imbuing them with a new meaning in light of their belief that the Messianic prophecies were fulfilled in Y'shua."

"So, what's your fascination?"

Randi's face took on a serious expression. "One of the principal problems with Christianity in America today is that it's too easy. People don't appreciate the freedoms they have, and a lot of people claim to be Christians who don't take their faith seriously, or who just want a springboard for their political agenda..."

Mulder nodded thoughtfully.

The writer continued. "These people don't have that luxury. A lot of Jewish parents feel betrayed if one of their children professes Jesus as the Messiah, and not without justification, considering the Church's history in regards to the Jewish people. A lot of the members of the congregation we're visiting probably were disowned by most if not all of their families because of their decision. Being willing to sacrifice something like that takes a pretty remarkable strength of conviction. I admire that conviction a lot--it inspires me."

The agent nodded again. "I guess that explains why you come here instead of just going to a Rabbinical Synagogue, which is what you would probably do if you just wanted to learn about Judaism."

"That's a large part of it, yes. But I also feel very much at home here. I feel like I belong."

"Are you Jewish?"

The woman next to him shrugged, still smiling. "Wish I could tell ya."

Mulder grimaced. Oh. Right.

"But I've always felt a certain affinity for the Jewish culture, so I very well could be." She glanced over at him. "Are you?"

He nodded. "My mom is. We celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah when I was a kid."

"Not to mention Easter and Passover?"

"Actually, those weren't emphasized nearly as much, maybe because the religious element in both of them is still pretty dominant. Religiously, both of my parents were pretty much atheists." He sighed. "Not to mention we didn't celebrate much of anything after Sam disappeared."

She nodded sombrely. "I see."

If there was one thing Randi had always been good at, it was sensing when a situation was uncomfortable, and now was definitely one of those times, so she decided to change the subject. "But if your mother is Jewish, ethnically you would be too, under the Law of Return."

"You know your stuff, don't you?"

She nodded. "Like I said, Jewish culture has always fascinated me, almost as if maybe it was a part of me." A broad grin spread over her face, and the familiar mischievous sparkle danced into her eyes. "In fact, if my Faith wasn't such an important part of my life, I might have even converted. But when I believe something is true, no fascination, no matter how strong, can shake it."

Mulder smiled. That sounds familiar--no wonder she and Scully get along so well.

The thought of his former partner caused a sharp pain to shoot through him that was almost physical. Much as he appreciated what Randi was trying to do to heal the rift between him and Scully, he couldn't help but give in a little to despair when he remembered the hurt in his partner's eyes. He grimaced--maybe that was the real reason, even more than his curiosity, that he had decided to accept Randi's invitation. Now that he had lost both Sam and Scully...he desperately needed something to believe in. Something that would never go--or be taken--away.

With an irony that was not lost on him, he found himself praying. God...I don't know who you are. I've spent most of my life believing that you couldn't possibly exist, or that if you did, you couldn't be loving...because of what you took from me. But I need to believe now--I don't just want to--and I can't help but wonder if maybe I was wrong. If Randi can believe so firmly after what she lost...if Scully can turn to her faith in you for strength when life starts to go haywire...then maybe...just maybe, I can too. And maybe if I stop trying to convince myself there's no reason for the pain I've lived with...maybe I can start to see a reason. I want to believe, God. Please, if you're real...show me how.

"Are you all right?" Randi's voice startled him out of his reverie. They were at a red light, and her eyes had drifted over to him with the sisterly concern she had always shown for both him and Scully.

Nodding, Mulder let a pensive smile drift across his face. "Yeah...just thinking."

For a moment, she just watched his face, then, with an expression of understanding tinged with a hint of satisfaction, calmly stated, "That's good."

**Dana Scully's Apartment**
**St. Louis, Missouri**

Dana fell onto her couch with a weariness that was bitterly familiar, although the days between when she'd left the X-Files and when she'd first gazed at that mangled corpse had been mercifully free of it. Of course, that respite had been marred by her grieving over her lost friendship with Mulder, but the weariness only compounded the grief. And it hadn't helped any that Randi hadn't called all day. Right now, she could really stand to hear her friend's voice. She needed it.

Her mind drifted back over her morning's work, from the first meeting with the sweet, but enigmatic local M.E. who was helping her with the case, to the strange comment he'd made just before she left...strange only because of the circumstances under which she'd heard it before.

The voice of a man the world thought was mad, giving her a puzzling clue to save his son, a young boy inexplicably chosen by God for some task none of them had figured out. The soothing voice of the priest in the confessional she had entered, desperate to understand why, for once, Mulder had not been able to believe. An old woman trying to protect her grandchildren with the power of her faith from a fate that she, Dana, had not dared to fully understand.

Every time she'd heard those words, someone had challenged her faith. A faith she'd kept stored in a corner, pulling it out only when she didn't know what else to do, and the rest of the time, worn it only in the tiny gold cross around her neck, not allowing it to be something more.

Irrational as it seemed, could it be that God was trying to tell her something?

She reached for the phone, her fingers dialing Randi's number automatically, even though she had to hold back from pressing the 1-3-1-4 that had preceded it for years. There was no answer.

Dana almost screamed. Randi didn't do this--she didn't disappear on her when she was needed. That was Mulder...or at least...it had been. She frowned. Then again, in some ways her old friend and her partner had always been eerily alike.

She slammed the phone into the receiver, mentally screaming at her absent friend. Damn you, Randi! Where are you?

The phone rang, almost as if it was trying to answer her question. Dana pounced on it. "Hello?"

"Dana? This is Carol Randall."

"Carol...hi. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

The older woman laughed, a low melodious sound that brought back warm memories of the first time she'd met Randi's family. "I imagine not. I hope you don't mind--Mandy asked me to call."

Dana smiled. "No, not at all. Where is Randi anyway?"

"She went out of town on a book tour, one that she's had planned for a while, and apparently couldn't get out of, although I must admit she didn't say that specifically. She asked me to keep an eye on you while she was gone." There was a gentle amusement in the older woman's voice, and Scully laughed softly.

"That sounds like Randi all right."

"How are you doing, Dana?"

She closed her eyes, letting the flurried events of the past several days sweep over her. "I've been so tired. My life has changed so much in the past week...maybe for the better, I don't know...but at the same time some things haven't changed a bit."

A note of bitterness entered her voice with that last statement.

"I understand. Mandy told me about your case."

Dana took a deep, shuddering breath, the image of the young woman's corpse still etched on the inside of her eyelids. She opened them, hoping it would make the picture go away, but it didn't.

"The thing is...it isn't the case itself that bothers me so much--I mean, yes it bothers me that someone was killed so brutally, but I've seen worse things before--it's the fact that reminds me so much of..." her voice trailed off, unable to wrap itself around the words "the X-Files."

"It sounds like you miss your work there," Carol commented softly. Even though Randi wasn't this woman's blood daughter, the younger Randall had still picked up much of her perceptiveness about other people from her mother.

"I do," Scully admitted, her hands drifting to where she still had a key to Mulder's apartment on her keyring--she had been too afraid to face him again long enough to give it back, and too afraid of letting him know where she was to send it to him. "Even though it cost me a lot, I do miss it. I loved the work, I loved the feeling that we were doing something to try and make the world a better place, even if we rarely succeeded. Because of those rare times when we did succeed, when we did beat the bad guys...and even the moments when they struck back with a force we couldn't defeat because we were getting so close...that made it all worth it. I only wish Mulder felt the same."

"How do you know he doesn't?" Carol asked, in a tone eerily reminiscent of her daughter's.

"He told me...when we first started working together, that finding Sam was all he cared about. 'Nothing else matters to me'--that's exactly what he said. I just thought somewhere along the line, that had changed, that he'd begun to care about the big picture as much as if not MORE than her. That he really was out to find the Truth, not just his sister. But I guess I was wrong."

"Well, I can't tell you whether or not you're wrong on that, since I've never met the man. But I can tell you this, Dana. Don't run away just because things are getting rough--God gives us trials for a reason. And he always works things out for the best, even if it may seem to take forever. But he won't force you to choose the right path. You know that."

Scully smiled softly at the soothing sound of the older woman's voice. It was amazing how Carol Randall could make such a blatant statement of faith and not make it sound like a sermon.

"I...I haven't exactly been what you would consider devout," she admitted, a little embarrassed.

"I know, and I don't expect you to be. But I know that sometimes the best way to face a hurt is to return to where you began, to the faith that gave you strength once."

The words were different, but the idea was the same, and the message seemed suddenly clearer. "'Sometimes we must come full circle to find the Truth...'" Dana quoted softly.

"That's true more often than any of us know, I imagine. Just remember this--God is in the habit of giving second chances. If you need one, you'll get it."

For a short moment, Scully just thought about what Carol had said, turning the words over in her mind. The older woman was quiet, giving her the time she knew she needed. But a few minutes later, she finally broke the silence.

"Dana, may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"I think you should give your mother a call, and talk to her about this. I love you as if you were my own daughter, you know that, but...well..." There was a smile in her voice. "Let's just say if Mandy were having a crisis of faith, I'd want her to come to me."

Dana smiled. "I understand. And you're right. Thanks, Carol."

"Take care of yourself, Dana."

"I will."

As soon as she had hung up, Scully tapped a different number into the phone and brought it again to her ear. "Hey, Mom. Can we talk?"

**Beth Y'shua Messianic Synagogue**
**Parking Lot**

Mulder was quiet all the way back to Randi's car from the building where the service had been held. It was strange how warmly the tiny congregation had welcomed them, almost as if they somehow sensed that he was one of their own who had gotten a little lost along the way. And the Rabbi's words...somehow they had given him a picture into which he might be able to fit the disparate puzzle pieces of his background. The whole service had struck a chord with him that he hadn't known existed, offered him a piece of the puzzle that he hadn't been looking for. Maybe the linking piece.

"So, what did you think?" Randi asked, taking note of his silence.

"I see what you mean about feeling at home here," he admitted quietly, glancing back at the low building as he reached for the passenger door of her car. For a moment, his eyes met hers over the roof of the car. "How did you know?" he asked. "How did you know this would be good for me?"

"The same way I've always known you and Dana are good for each other, or will be once you get this thing resolved," she replied simply, opening the door and seating herself. He closed his eyes at the certainty in her voice, for one moment allowing himself to hope. There was a brief silence before she spoke again. "Will you be coming back?"

Turning back once more to look at the tiny home that had been converted into a place of worship, Mulder nodded. "Yeah. I think I will."

**St. Catherine's Catholic Church**
**Webster Groves, Missouri**
**June 21, 1998**

The morning Mass had already started when Dana slipped into the back of the church and seated herself in one of the last pews. A few heads turned to watch her with disapproving eyes for her late entry, but most of the parishioners didn't even appear to notice. She smiled faintly at the familiar, sweet smell of incense filling the sanctuary, relishing the memories of sitting like this in a beam of tinted sunlight, listening to the almost musical recitation of the priest, and joining in the chant on the prayers she had memorized at such a young age.

For a child or a restless teenager, the long, ceremonial services had often seemed more dull than sacred, which she supposed was why she had stopped going to Mass as soon as she left home. But now she welcomed the familiar rhythm of the service with a new reverence that she couldn't help wishing she'd discovered long ago.

It feels good to be back, she realized, somewhat surprised.

At the front of the sanctuary, the priest rose and began to say a blessing over the Sacrament, making her realize with a twinge of guilt that she'd been later than she'd suspected. But years of not bothering to get up for Church on Sunday had made it difficult to get ready on time this morning. She'd gone to confession yesterday, for the first time since the Kryder case, although she hadn't known why at the time. But now, watching the father say a prayer over the wine cup, Dana realized she had wanted to be able to participate in this, to feel the sense of connection with God that her First Communion had given her. She bowed her head and crossed herself, allowing her hand to linger for a moment over the necklace she still always wore.

Filled with a peace she hadn't known in years, she waited.

**Fox Mulder's Apartment**
**Alexandria, Virginia**

Mulder sat on the couch, re-reading (between swallows of iced tea) the message the Lone Gunmen had sent him the day before. He frowned thoughtfully at the detail incorporated into the article. Even though he wasn't above investigating a case out of a tabloid once in a while, this one's detail and believeability surprised even him. The Agents at the St. Louis branch office, particularly the pathologists assigned to the case, had declined to comment or even be mentioned by name, but apparently some of the local cops weren't as frugal, and the case was described in detail.

At first glance, the article had looked pretty worthless, and he hadn't really given the idea of investigating it much thought, but a closer inspection had revealed several things that pointed to a true X-File. Not to mention that his conversation with Randi and visit to the Messianic service had inspired him. In the weeks since Scully had left, he'd kept the X-Files open officially, but he and Bethel hadn't really tackled a case yet, and he realized that staying in name only wasn't keeping the promise he'd made to her in his letter.

This seemed like a good case to start with, too, since it would give Bethel an uncompromising initiation into the world of the X-Files, one that would prove once and for all whether or not she deserved to be down there. She would never replace Scully, but he had to admit now he owed it her a chance to be his partner--Skinner wouldn't have sent her down there if she didn't deserve that much.

Closing the file of the article on his computer, Mulder glanced over at the books he'd taken out of the library yesterday afternoon--an NIV Bible, a copy of the Tanakh, and a slim volume entitled 'Conversational Hebrew.'

There wasn't really anything he could do about the case until Monday.

**FBI Headquarters**
**X-Files office**
**June 22, 1998**

Erin Bethel stared in surprise at her partner as he entered the basement office Monday morning, on time and more alert than she'd ever seen him. He still seemed profoundly sad about something, but there was a purpose in his eyes that was unfamiliar.

What happened? she wondered.

"You ever been to St. Louis?" Mulder asked, meeting her eyes evenly.

Bethel shook her head. "N-no...why?" she stammered, surprised.

"Because we're heading out there tomorrow morning, I just have to clear it with Skinner."

"What about this?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of research they'd been working on for most of the past week. Mulder shrugged.

"It'll keep. I decided it's about time you saw what an X-Files case is like, so you can decide whether or not you really want to stay."

Erin nodded, not quite certain whether to be more bewildered or intrigued by that statement. "What exactly would we be investigating?"

A devilish smile spread across the older agent's face. "Oh, nothing much. Just the possible return of Jack the Ripper..."

**********

**FBI Headquarters**

"No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Mulder challenged his boss, leaning back in his chair with defiance in his eyes.

"Contrary to what this rag says..." Skinner tossed the tabloid down on his desk with an expression of disgust on his face. "This is not a case of Jack the Ripper coming back from the dead. The branch office has the matter well under control."

"How do you know that?" The agent leaned forward now, his sharp hazel eyes meeting his superior's evenly.

"Because we have some very capable agents in St. Louis. This isn't an X-File, Agent Mulder, therefore you and Agent Bethel have no jurisdiction in this case unless you're asked for."

"Why don't you want me to look into this? What are you hiding?"

Skinner exploded. "Agent Mulder, one of these days you are going to have to get it through your thick skull that not everything you want that you don't get is a conspiracy. Not to mention the fact that you are not a necessary part of every investigation this Bureau undertakes. Now, you are not going to St. Louis, and that is a direct order! And if you defy me on this, don't think I won't call you on the carpet for it. I've put up with enough of your disrespect for the regulations of this organization. If you go to investigate this case without my permission, I swear I will get you drummed out of the Bureau. Got it?"

Mulder nodded, but the angry fire in his eyes made it quite clear that he wasn't happy with the decision. The AD just hoped he wasn't unhappy enough to defy it. He'd made a promise to Scully that Mulder wouldn't find her if it was in his power to prevent it, and until she released him from that promise, he wouldn't do anything that would break it.

"Good. Dismissed."

Mulder stood and moved slowly towards the door, making no effort to conceal his discontent. But unlike the day he had assigned the agent his new partner, Skinner was also conscious of the sadness in his bearing, an incredible grief that was so familiar, but so much more intense than before Scully had left. Mulder didn't know that he was being kept away from his old partner, only that he was being prevented from pursuing what he considered his debt to her.

"Mulder..." the AD spoke again, more gently this time.

The agent turned in the doorway.

"As soon as I do hear about a case suited to your talents, I'll send it your way. I promise."

**Randi's Hotel Room**
**June 22, 1998**

The phone rang. Randi rolled over in bed, groaning. Great. That's probably Gary calling to let me know I'm late for the signing. Why didn't my alarm go off? She glanced over at the clock. It was 9:00 am. Wait a second--I'm not supposed to get up until ten--who on earth would be calling me this early? Curious, she fumbled for the phone and brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Oh...did I wake you up?"

"Hi, Moldy. Yes, you did."

Mulder chuckled ruefully on the other end of the line at her use of the old nickname.

"I thought you were here on business?"

"I am," she yawned. "But thankfully, the business I'm in, *I* dictate the hours."

"I envy you."

"Any sane person would," she teased.

"Hey, who're you calling sane?"

"Oops. Sorry--forgot who I was talking to."

The agent laughed again, but that laugh quickly faded into an uncomfortable silence. "I can call back another time, if you'd rather go back to sleep."

"That would defeat the whole--well, okay--*half* the purpose for me coming here. What's on your mind?"

He sighed. "I just needed someone to vent to, I guess."

"Well, that's what I'm here for. Vent away--I'm not even supposed to be up for an hour, so you've got plenty of time."

She was greeted by a silence that she hoped concealed a smile. The agent's next words, though, made her suspect otherwise.

"It's just that...well, for the first time since Scully left..." As usual, his voice broke a little at the mention of his partner's name. "...I found a case that I really care about, that I really want to solve. And I even followed standard procedure to get onto the investigation, but Skinner won't give it to me. I'm certain it's an X-File, but he doesn't believe me, and he threatened to have me thrown out of the Bureau if I pressed the issue or pursued the investigation without authorization."

"What's the case?"

"Well, you've probably already heard of it, actually. You do still live in St. Louis, I assume?"

Randi's hands turned cold with shock. "The Ripper murders??"

"Thought you might have heard something about it."

The writer's eyes turned skyward. Lord, if I ever doubted you have a sense of humor, I take it back. Sounds like I'm not the only one who thinks these two need to get their act together, huh?

Dana's words came back to her in vivid detail. ("I know exactly what Mulder would be theorizing right now if he were here. He'd say that it's not a copycat. That because the Ripper was never caught, this could very well be him, regardless of the fact that the original case was over a hundred years ago...just like with Tooms.")

Randi closed her eyes, her next words soft and subdued. "Don't tell me--you think the killer really is Jack the Ripper, not a copycat."

"Randi, you read my mind."

She smiled sadly. No, Fox, I didn't. Dana read your mind--I just relayed it back to you. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence between them as Randi sent up a quick, wordless prayer for guidance.

"Why do you care so much about this case?" she finally asked him.

"Because...well, because I'm afraid that it won't be solved. That the branch office, because they're not open to extreme possibilities, won't do what's really necessary to catch the killer."

"Which is?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm sure I could figure it out if I could just take a real look at the case."

"Well, Fox, how do you know they won't be open? How do you know they won't consider the possibility that this isn't a copycat killing?"

"Let's just say that hasn't been my experience in the past."

No, I imagine it hasn't... Randi rolled over in bed, still not quite certain how to react to the unexpected situation she'd suddenly found herself in the middle of. She glanced back over at the night table to check the clock...and spotted the still-sealed envelope leaning against it. The letter.

If she wasn't mistaken, that letter could go a long way to mending the rift that had developed between the two agents. Maybe it was time to send it.

"Listen, Fox, I have some...contacts at the branch office. Give me a couple of days to get home and talk to them. Maybe I can persuade them to ask you to come in, and if not...well, I might at least be able to present your view on things. Does that sound all right?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line, and she prayed quickly that for once Fox Mulder's sharp mind wouldn't make the leap from what she had told him to what she hadn't.

"Oh..." he finally responded, surprised. "That would be great. I didn't know you knew anyone at the Branch Office..."

"I am a writer, Moldy. Contacts are important in this business."

"You've got a point there, Randall."

"Didn't I tell you--"

"Never to call you Randall? Yeah. But you started it." His voice was lighter than it had been in a while.

By calling you Moldy...I know, I know. Tit for tat. Still, she couldn't resist teasing him. "I seem to recall you saying that anything but 'Spooky' would be fine."

"I did, didn't I?" he groaned. "I should have known better--your memory's as good as mine!"

She shook her head, smiling. "If that's all you needed to vent about, I think I'm going to hang up on you and go back to sleep. You woke me up during the single-digit hours of the morning--that's a no-no."

He snorted. "Lazybones."

"Hey, don't get me started on name-calling. I'm an expert."

She could almost hear him smile. "You'll call me when you hear something?"

"Sure thing."

"Well, talk to you later then...Dimbulb." He hung up quickly before she could come up with an appropriate reply.

He would have to have the last word. Randi glared at the phone. "Buttmunch," she muttered grumpily, then hung up, rolled over, and promptly fell back asleep.

**X-Files Office**

When Erin Bethel re-entered the office after dropping a picture off at the photo lab for analysis, she found her partner-in-name-only already there, sitting with his feet propped up on his desk and staring with a satisfied smirk at the phone.

"Did Assistant Director Skinner approve the case?" she asked.

Instantly Mulder's smile faded and she began to wish she'd never brought the subject up, as natural a choice as it may have been. In the short time since she'd been assigned to him, Bethel had decided she couldn't do anything right in his eyes, which was made even more difficult by how much she'd admired his work when studying it at the Academy. She'd been thrilled to know she'd been chosen to work with him, but now...

"No, he didn't," the senior agent stated flatly.

Bethel couldn't hide her own disappointment. After almost a week of solid research and paperwork, she'd finally faced the possibility of an actual case--actual fieldwork--and now she had lost it.

"Skinner seems to think there is nothing remotely resembling an X-File in the St. Louis case, and therefore we have no right to investigate it."

"Oh."

Mulder planted his feet on the floor and stood, crossing the room to the file cabinet, which he opened to deposit the Ripper file in. "However...I have a friend in St. Louis who's offered to talk to the locals and see if she can't convince them to ask us in on the case, so it could still happen."

"Someone in the branch office?"

The taller agent chuckled, something she had never seen him do before. "Not exactly--Randi's a writer, so she's 'made contacts' for researching her books."

The younger agent's curiosity was piqued so she pressed a little further in hopes of an answer. "What does she write?"

"Science Fiction stuff--a lot like what we do here, only fictional," he joked, then grew more pensive. "In fact, she just published a book recently inspired by a case Scully..." Again there was a wince of pain. "...and I were working on when she came to visit two years ago, which is when I met her. It's called...Blue Book Reopened, I think."

Bethel's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped so far Mulder was afraid for a moment that it was going to hit the floor like in a cartoon. Now that would be an X-File!

"Amanda Randall?" she whispered incredulously, taking a daring step towards him. "You know Amanda Randall???? Blue Book Reopened was about YOU??"

Mulder was a bit taken aback by the younger agent's sudden enthusiasm. He would have sooner have expected Pendrell to serenade Scully outside their office window, which wouldn't have happened no matter how bad of a crush the lab technician might have had on his ex-parter. Almost as bad as the one I have on her, he thought with another momentary ache.

"Actually...yes, I do know her. I take it you like her books?" He watched her with a detached amusement.

Bethel nodded. "She's my favorite author! I've read all her books--Blue Book Reopened, Sky Lights, The Food Bank, The IQ Society...Blue Book Reopened and Sky Lights are my favorites, because they're the ones that take place in the present, that make you wonder what really is going on behind the scenes..."

"I should probably read those sometime then," he muttered, smiling.

Bethel stopped, embarrassed at her speech.

"Please, go on," Mulder instructed with his usual dry humor. "I'm taking notes to deliver to Randi."

"I--I'm sorry," she stammered.

"Don't be--it's the first spark of personality I've seen out of you since you got down here. I'm tempted to bring Randi in as a permanent consultant so it'll happen more often." His wit was still fairly uninflected, but it was light enough to come across as humor instead of sarcasm.

"I...I'll try to remember that, sir," she murmured, still embarrassed, but now greatly relieved as well.

"Try to get that 'sir' out of your system too, if you can." Slamming the drawer on the file cabinet, he grimaced a little at her confused nod. How was she supposed to give up 'sir' if he hadn't given her anything else to call him? He knew that, but letting her call him Mulder was still too hard, and Fox was still out of the question.

"Well, since our case has been postponed indefinitely..." he changed the subject, crossing back over to his desk. "Let's see what we can do with that research...And pray I don't go crazy enough waiting on Randi for this to go without Skinner's permission."

**Baltimore-Washington International Airport**
**June 23, 1998**

Randi let out a long breath of relief as she felt the envelope slip from her fingers into the post office box. It had been difficult, in a way, to wait to mail the letter until today, but she had decided that she wanted to get there before it, so that if Dana needed to talk about it, she would be available. She'd spoken to her mother, and thankfully so had her friend, but she knew there were some things that needed the comfort of a friend and peer, not a mother. She reached behind her to grasp the handle of her suitcase, blissfully ignorant of a few curious stares she was receiving from people who thought they recognized her from a black and white photo inside the cover of a book...

Just then, a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Amanda Randall, please meet your party at the TWA ticket counter. Amanda Randall, please meet your party at the TWA ticket counter."

Her head snapped up, and one of the curious observers turned to whisper excitedly to someone next to him. Who on earth? she wondered.

Thankfully, her flight wasn't for another hour still, so she had time to find out. But the minute she turned back towards the counter, she was intercepted by an eager-looking young man and his girlfriend.

"Amanda Randall?" the man asked eagerly.

With a silent groan, she nodded. Maybe she shouldn't do any more of these book tours--her face was beginning to lose its much-prized anonymity.

"I just wanted to say...I've read all of your books..." The girl beside him nodded, an enthusiastic smile on her face. Randi decided she was either mute or dumbfounded.

"Sky Lights was my favorite," he continued to babble. "The character of Allison Richards was so realistic, and I love how you left the ending ambiguous, so that if you ever decide to write a sequel you could have Drake turn out not to be dead after all--"

*****

Fifteen minutes and ten fans later, Randi arrived a little out of breath at the ticket counter to find Mulder waiting for her, wearing an expression of amused patience. A scolding frown crossed her face and she shook her finger at the agent reproachfully.

"Obviously, FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder, you have have had no experience whatsoever with fans, otherwise you would never have paged me by my full name."

Mulder grinned a little. "Gee, I thought you liked the fact that your books were so popular."

"Only when it doesn't cause me to be indefinitely late to wherever it is I'm going."

"Oh, is that your excuse?"

"This time at least. So, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I don't know. Guess I thought I'd come down and see you off."

She regarded him with a critical eye. "I haven't forgotten my promise to talk to the branch office, Fox. As you yourself said, my memory's as good as yours...at least where the past twenty-three years are concerned."

He shrugged. "I also wanted to thank you. For forcing me to take a really good look at myself and see how much I sometimes hurt people without meaning to."

Randi nodded thoughtfully. You only wish we'd had that talk before Dana left, just like I do. "Walk with me down to the gate? You can pretend to be my bodyguard or something..."

"Thanks for the promotion."

"Well, since it's your fault the whole airport now knows I'm here, I'd say you owe it to me. That's what you get for having famous friends." She turned back in the direction of her gate, and Mulder followed about a pace behind, chuckling.

"Anything I owe you, Randi, I think I paid in advance by not bringing Bethel with me."

She glanced back at him. "Is she--?"

He nodded with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "About had a heart attack when I told her I knew you. Surprised the hell out of me--I didn't even know she knew how to get excited."

The writer winced a little at his choice of words, but said nothing. Well, Fox, I'm guessing that's probably because you didn't really make any effort to get to know her, did you?

"Sorry about that--I know you don't like swearing."

Randi smiled, grateful he had noticed her reaction even though she had chosen not to voice it. "Thanks for remembering."

"Would you honestly have believed me if I said I'd forgotten?"

She snorted. "Probably not."

They stopped at the security checkpoint, and Randi hoisted her carry-on onto the belt while Mulder flashed his badge at the guard to explain his weapon.

"How close is your gate?" he asked her as soon as they had both gotten through.

"First TWA one on the concourse," she replied, pointing down the long hallway to a distant glimpse of red.

"And how long do you think it'll be before you--"

"Get back to you about the case? I don't know--have a little patience!"

He looked disappointed, and Randi almost laughed. "Moldy, you're acting like a teenager waiting for me to deliver a message to your latest crush!" Truer than he knows.

She grinned. "I'll get to it when I get to it. And don't have a cow if the branch office solves the case without you--stranger things have happened."

"Yeah, and I've seen most of them," he replied dryly.

They reached the gate just as a woman in a red TWA uniform was calling for pre-boarding and first class passengers.

"That would be me." Randi grinned.

"You're flying first class?"

She nodded. "As much as I can, now that I can actually afford it once in a while."

"Remind me to ask you to pay for my plane tickets for my next case."

"Ha. Don't bet on it."

Glad she had put him in a better mood, the writer turned to face the agent one last time before boarding the plane. "I just want you to know, Fox...I believe you and Dana will be reunited someday. I think God wants you to be. You'll get through this, and you'll be stronger for it. Don't give up hope, okay?"

He nodded, an unexpected tear brimming in one hazel eye. "Thanks, Randi."

She shook his hand firmly in farewell, then turned again to board the plane.

"Randi--"

She turned to face him again, a question on her face.

"If you hear from Scully...tell her...tell her I'm sorry."

Her eyes softening, Randi nodded. "I will. I promise."

**********

**Baltimore-Washington International Airport**

Mulder watched Randi board the plane, trying to shake off a curious sense of deja vu, then turned away. He hoped it wouldn't take her too long to convince whoever her friend at the branch office was that this was an X-File--he didn't want a killing spree like this to go unchecked just because no one thought to look beyond the plausible. If it hadn't been for Skinner's warning, he probably would have bought a ticket and boarded the plane with her (though not in first class). Even with that warning in mind, it had been tempting.

Once the plane had pulled away from the gate, he turned away, a sharp pang of regret shooting through him. It had been so hard not to ask her where Scully was--since Randi was obviously still in contact with her--but he knew both his partner and the writer well enough to know that both of them placed enormous value on keeping their word. If Scully had asked her friend not to reveal her whereabouts, Randi wouldn't do it. I did what I could--at least I was able to give her a message.

If only he could bring himself to believe that was enough.

Someone jostled him as he was passing the security checkpoint, but he ignored it. It had been a long time since he'd had the energy to be bothered by something so petty. He kept walking, only pausing for a moment to browse in one tiny gift shop.

He smiled. A paperback copy of Blue Book Reopened was sitting on a display rack by the checkout counter. "The New York Times Bestseller, Now in Paperback!" the display proclaimed. Gee, never had a bestseller based on my life before, he reflected with a smile, picking the book up and flipping it over to read the description on the back.

Ty O'Neill...not the name I would have chosen for myself, but then neither is Fox. And Megan Leoni for Scully... He smiled. She just had to stick 'Lion' in there somewhere.

He bent down to put the book back on display. For a moment, something reflected in the plastic of the sign advertizing the books caught his eye, and he frowned. He turned to look in it again. Across the store, a familiar figure was standing at a magazine rack, flipping through the pages of the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly. Mulder's eyes darkened.

Within moments he had crossed the store, discreetly drawn his weapon, and come up behind the other man. He pressed the gun barrel into the man's back and watched with a grim satisfaction as the figure stiffened.

"It's been a while, Alex," he spat out in a low voice thick with sarcasm.

Alex Krycek's face went white at the sound of the voice behind him. There was something about Mulder and airports...

"Mulder, how've you been?" He strained to sound normal, cheerful, instead of deathly afraid.

"Oh, I don't know, Krycek. How should I be?"

The other man didn't answer, too afraid he might say something that would drive the agent over the edge. And much as he would love to see Mulder go berserk in public and get himself run out of the Bureau, he didn't want that satisfaction at the cost of his own life.

"I should arrest you right here, you bastard."

"What, you don't want to kill me anymore?" Krycek replied sarcastically.

"Don't tempt me," Mulder snapped back. "But I think you know you've got enough against you to put you in prison for life. Murder, attempted murder, conspiracy, interfering with a federal investigation..."

The other man didn't deny the charges, only staring straight ahead with a defiant set to his jaw.

"Let's go talk outside, shall we? It's getting a bit...stuffy in here." The agent's voice was still heavily sarcastic.

Reholstering his gun, but keeping a hand at his waist so he could draw it again at a moment's notice, Mulder gestured to the door of the gift shop. Reluctantly, Krycek walked out of the store, with the taller man following.

**BWI Parking Garage**

"So, what have you been up to lately, Krycek? How many more people have you kiled since the last time we met?" the agent asked as the two men left the airport and headed into the surprisingly deserted parking garage. His voice was still spitefully sarcastic.

"Let him go, Agent Mulder," a firm, glassy female voice spoke behind him.

Mulder froze, a wave of astonishment sweeping over him. He recognized that voice. Turning to face her, he waved a gun in Krycek's direction. "Give me one good reason why."

Marita Covarrubias raised a gun that he hadn't noticed she was holding. At the same time, half a dozen men in suits and gloves stepped out of the shadows, all aiming for him.

"How about I give you eight good reasons?" she replied calmly.

Silently cursing himself for ever having trusted her even a little, Mulder carefully set his gun on the ground. The moment he knew he was safe, Krychek moved quickly away from the agent and to Marita's side. "Good work," she whispered to him as he wrapped one arm around her waist.

Noticing the gesture, Mulder shook his head in disapproval. "Suddenly everything is becoming so much clearer," he muttered dryly.

The other man turned angry eyes back to him. "She bought my life with her loyalty, Agent Mulder. I won't let you criticize her for it."

Even if he had wanted to, he never got the chance. Just at that moment, a needle bit into his shoulder and blackness claimed him within moments.

**BWI**
**American Airlines Ticket Counter**

"I'd like to purchase a ticket for the three o'clock flight to St. Louis, please."

The attendant behind the desk nodded, trying not to make it obvious that she was studying the man across from her. Not bad. He was about six feet tall, with close-cropped, slick brown hair and dark, brooding eyes. His strong jaw was set in a line that seemed at the same time both determined and nervous. She thought he looked barely more than twenty-five, especially in that leather jacket.

"What name would that be under?" she asked. He rummaged in his pocket for a moment, then produced a driver's license and credit card.

"Fox Mulder."

**Dana Scully's Apartment**
**St. Louis, Missouri**
**June 24, 1998**

The phone rang in the empty apartment, echoing in an almost lonesome manner. It rang again, but the apartment's resident didn't appear. Finally, after four rings, an answering machine picked up.

"This is Dana Scully. I'm not in right now, but leave a message and I'll return your call as soon as possible."

"Hey, Lion, just wanted to let you know I was home. Sorry I didn't warn you before I left, but things were rather hectic at the time. Mom said she spoke with you though, and I'm glad of that. I'm guessing you're away at work, so, give me a call when you get in. Bye."

**The X-Files Office**
**June 25, 1998**

Erin Bethel watched the clock nervously. It was almost six, past time to leave, and he still hadn't appeared. It had been two days since she'd seen any sign of her partner, and each one that passed made her more uneasy. Especially since, as he had done everything in his power to prevent her from knowing anything about him, she had no idea where to begin to look. He could be doing anything from sulking at home to lying dead at the bottom of the Inner Harbor for all she knew.

But the one thing she was most afraid of was that he'd taken that case without her, the one Skinner had forbidden them to investigate. And it was because of that she hadn't said anything yet to the A.D.--she didn't want to completely alienate the man who had been her hero in her years at the academy by being a snitch. Still, three days had passed with no word from him, and she had no way to know if this was normal or not.

But after tomorrow morning, none of that would matter. They were both supposed to meet with Skinner as soon as they came in, and she had a feeling that Mulder wouldn't be showing up.

**St. Louis Branch Office**
**June 26, 1998**

"Agent Scully!"

Scully turned back to the desk at the sound of Garrison's voice, a curious expression on her face. He approached her, an envelope in his hands. "This came for you."

The redhead frowned, taking it from him and turning it over in her hands. Her name, care of the St. Louis Branch Office of the FBI was printed somewhat shakily on it, with no return address. The postmark was dated three days ago, from Baltimore. Who would be sending me something here? she wondered.

"Thanks," she murmured, still confused. She made her way through the building to the morgue without being intercepted again. Thankfully, the gruesome murder case she had been working on had wrapped up just yesterday. A smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she remembered how that unexpected conclusion had helped her take the final steps back to the faith of her childhood. It was good to believe in something again, and she couldn't wait to hear Randi's reaction to the news that she'd seen and spoken with an angel...

Entering her office, she closed the door firmly and dropped into the seat at her desk. She turned her attention to the letter, once again wondering who it could possibly be from. The handwriting on the address looked familiar...but she couldn't quite pin down why. The address itself looks like Randi's script, she eventually concluded. But I could swear the name was written by someone else...

The sudden realization of who that someone was almost made her heart stop.

For one moment, she almost threw it away, but Randi's words echoing in her mind stalled her hand. ("What if you are wrong, Lion? What if he does care about you? What if he wants to make it up to you, but can't because you're too afraid to give him a second chance?")

Swallowing her fears, she ripped open the envelope.

June 10, 1998

Scully,

I wouldn't blame you a bit if you didn't read this. I'm not even sure I'll ever find the courage to send it, but I have to tell the truth now, or regret it for the rest of my life. I thought I lost everything when I lost Sam...it wasn't until you walked out the door that I realized I'd still had the most important thing--you--and I drove you away. I gave up before I'd lost, and because I did, I really did lose everything.

I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you what you wanted to hear. Sorriest because it's true. Your sister didn't die for nothing. You didn't waste your life down here. You made me see that there WAS more to this search than Samantha. And even though you will probably never know this, I will never give it up. I promise. I owe you that much--you, Melissa, my father, and Sam...but most of all, you, who believed in me even when I was a selfish, blind idiot. In other words, most of the time.

And if believing in me was a mistake, like I said, it's only because you deserve better than me and my crazy theories, and you always have. I hope you finally get it.

But more than all of that...yes, YES, you mean MUCH more to me than just a sounding board, Scully. So, so much more. I love you. God, I know it's stupid of me to wait until now to say that, but it's true. I was always afraid to tell you because I thought it might frighten you away. I never thought it might be the only way I could hold on to you.

I know it's too late to ask for a second chance. I know that right now anything I've told you must just come out sounding like a lie, because I didn't have the guts to say it last night, but...Dana...please believe me when I say again I didn't mean it. Any of it. Nothing we ever worked on or cared about together could ever be worthless. I hope...somehow...you can sense that. And maybe someday find it in your heart to forgive me.

Love,

Mulder

Her hands trembling, Dana folded the letter and inserted it carefully back in the envelope. She closed her eyes as tear after tear escaped to run zig-zag paths down her cheeks. He loves me. I thought I meant nothing to him, and all this time he's loved me as much as I love him. You were right, Randi. I was wrong, but I was too stubborn, too afraid to ask.

Still crying, she lifted her eyes heavenward with a silent prayer. Oh, Lord, what have I done? How could I have been so selfish?

**FBI Headquarters, D.C.**
**AD Skinner's Office**

"Where's Mulder?"

Bethel winced. She should have expected that to be the first thing out of his mouth when she entered the room alone, but she hadn't. Looking down at her hands, she stammered a reply. "I...I don't know."

Skinner swore softly, his eyes darkening. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Three days ago, sir. He left early to see a friend off at the airport."

"The airport?" There was a note of alarm in the AD's voice. Almost as if he were the one who had done something wrong instead of her, he rose from his seat and began pacing around the small office.

"Did he give you any indication that he might be going somewhere himself? Like to St. Louis, for instance?" A note of anger crept in at this point.

The young, blonde agent hesitated. "I...I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"The day before...he had talked about going to St. Louis, but since you didn't authorize our participation in the investigation--"

"That has never stopped him before," Skinner admitted grimly. "Your partner has never had a very high regard for orders he is given."

"But he had another way to get onto the case--maybe--he wouldn't have needed to disobey your order."

The older man eyed her sharply, and she continued.

"He spoke with a friend who had contacts in the branch office. She had offered to talk to them and see if she could convince them to invite us onto the case."

"Who is this friend?"

"The novelist, Amanda Randall, sir."

"He did say, though," Bethel confessed, "that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to wait that long."

Pensive, Skinner nodded. "All right. Call BWI, Dulles and National. Check and see if any of the airlines have any record of a ticket purchase by Fox Mulder for a flight to St. Louis. See if you can contact this Amanda Randall too--I'm hoping she can tell us how she planned on persuading the branch office to bring you in on the case." He had an idea, but he wasn't going to voice it here, since Bethel knew less than he did about the split between Mulder and his former partner. "Also...file a missing persons report and contact the branch office to see if he's made any attempt to contact anyone there."

Bethel nodded and turned to leave.

"Agent Bethel..."

She faced him again.

"I think I should warn you, if it turns out that Agent Mulder did pursue this investigation without my permission...well, I'm sorry, but we'll have to find you a new partner."

**Dana Scully's Apartment**
**St. Louis, Missouri**

The phone was ringing as she opened the door, so Dana lunged for it, dropping her briefcase and coat on the sofa as she passed it. "Hello?" she answered breathlessly.

"Agent Scully, this is Assistant Director Skinner..."

The redhead's eyes widened in surprise. "It's good to hear from you sir, even though I must admit I wasn't expecting it."

On the other end of the line, Skinner sighed. "I don't imagine you were."

She frowned, familiar enough with her superior's frustrations to know when something very serious was bothering him. And who it was probably about...

Yesterday, Dana would have hung up on her boss rather than hear anything about her former partner, but the letter that had arrived this morning had changed everything. So much so that if she could be sure Mulder would still be there, she would pack her bags right now and return to DC.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice guarded.

The AD sighed again. "Agent Mulder has disappeared, and I have reason to believe he may have been en route to St. Louis. Have you heard anything from him?"

Scully almost dropped the phone in shock. "Sir?"

"I assure you, I did not inform him of your whereabouts. Apparently one of Mulder's contacts sent him a tabloid article about the Ripper-copycat case you were working on, and he seemed to assume it was an X-File. I gave him an express order not to go, but that has never deterred him in the past." Skinner's irritation with that fact was evident in his voice.

"He stayed with it?" Scully whispered, clasping the letter to her heart, even though the sweat from her hand was slowly blurring the ink. "He stayed with the X-Files?"

"Yes, he did. Once I could finally get something out of him, he told me he owed it to you, although he wouldn't tell me why," Skinner replied crisply, then sighed. "I was hoping you might have heard from him."

She tightened her grip on the envelope. He didn't give up. He didn't give up the search...and he did it for me. Just like he promised. Her eyes closed to fight the tears that were threatening. How could she have wasted so much time running away from him, instead of trying--as Randi had suggested--to find out if she had been wrong? And now...he was missing again. Now that she had finally realized how much they meant to each other, he was missing, and it might be too late for her to ever tell him she loved him too.

Carol Randall's words came back to her--"God is in the habit of giving second chances..."

No. I won't let it be too late. This is our second chance--I won't let anything stop us from taking it. She would find him, just as she had done so many times before. Just as he had done so many times for her.

"How soon can you get me a flight?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm coming back."

"Agent Scully, this isn't your concern any longer. I only called on the off chance that you might have a clue as to his whereabouts."

"Forgive me, sir, but yes this is my concern. Agent Mulder was my partner for six years--no one knows him better than I do. Besides, I have to find him--we have unfinished business to settle."

"I see..." the AD replied thoughtfully. "Very well, I'll contact Agent Bethel to let her know you're coming in to help with the investigation. Go ahead and purchase the tickets--I'll reimburse you when you get to Washington."

"Thank you, sir."

"It's my pleasure, Agent Scully. I hope you find him."

"So do I, sir. So do I."

FIN