Title: The Third Sacrifice
Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com)
Category: X, MSR
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mulder and Scully run into a little girl who 
claims to have been his daughter--in another lifetime.
Disclaimer: CC and Company own it all. 
Special Thanks: To Sybil and the one and only Livia 
Balaban for beta services. I'm extraordinarily flattered 
that they would be willing to read my work in its 
primitive stages and thank them for helping me polish it 
into something presentable.

The following was written for IMTProductions Virtual 
Season 10 project.


The Third Sacrifice

Arabella: (Latin) Beautiful altar.



Teaser

The child wakes into her dream. As she often does. Her 
soft brown eyes are wide-open and filled with curiosity. 

The bright light doesn't scare her anymore. She sits 
back against the cushions of the couch, not questioning 
how she moved from her soft bed to the sofa in the den. 
Somehow, she just did.

The first time, she cried. Her eyes hurt. She was scared 
of what was to follow. But no one listened. That's how 
she came to know it was a dream. Only in a dream could 
you cry and cry and no one comes. Because no one can 
hear or see someone else's dreams. They are your own 
personal movies. That's what her Mommy had told her.

And besides, once she stopped crying, she realized the 
pictures weren't scary at all. Through the light, she 
saw pictures of her other mommy. Her other daddy. Long 
gone. Long dead.

Just like her.
_________________________

Act One

Starbucks
Washington, DC
Tuesday, 5:30 AM

Mulder looked out the window one more time. Scully 
wasn't late yet but he was still anxious to see her. He 
enjoyed these early morning, once-a-week 'dates'. The 
coffee house they chose was close enough to the Hoover 
building to ensure a slow, leisurely breakfast that 
wouldn’t be followed by a mad dash to the office in 
order to get there on time; but far enough away not to 
run into the usual FBI regulars.
 
He spotted Scully maneuvering her car into a spot across 
the street and left his table briefly to collect her 
coffee and bagel. By the time he deposited her breakfast 
on the table, she was just pushing open the front door 
of the restaurant.

"Happy Tuesday, Scully," he said, moving forward and 
quickly sliding his hand down her arm in greeting.  He 
took his seat across from hers.

"'Morning. I have to warn you, Mulder, I'm going to need 
to finish three quarters of this cup before I'll be 
ready to talk. I'm really tired."

Mulder's smile faded. "These dates are not written in 
stone, Scully. We can always cancel them."

"No way, Mulder. You're not getting out of it this 
easily. I like this once a week thing. It gives us a 
chance to talk without work or sex getting in the way."

"Sex gets in the way?" he smirked.

"Yes--in the way of conversation. Well, with me, anyway. 
Nothing much stops you when you've got a theory to 
espouse. Anyway, don't throw the baby out with the 
bathwater. Just because I'm tired today doesn't mean I'm 
calling everything off. The only thing I need is for you 
to do the talking until I wake up fully. Pretend we're 
in bed," she added with a twinkle.

"Oh, okay. 'Ride me like a stallion, baby ... '"

Scully came as close to doing a spit take as she had 
ever come in her life. Instead, she hastily swallowed 
the sip of coffee in her mouth and laughed.

"I don't remember you ever using that particular 
expression, Mulder."

"Do you want me to?"

"Generally, I can do those things without detailed 
instruction or verbal encouragement."

"Mmmm ... yes, you can."

"Mulder? First of all, you're making me talk too much 
and I've barely touched my coffee. And secondly, sex is 
managing to rear its ... well, let's talk about 
something neutral, please."

"Beige or Switzerland?"

"Surprise me," she said, taking a bite of her bagel.

"I don't like beige, so Switzerland it is. Let me tell 
you about my skiing trip in the early 80s."

For the next fifteen minutes, Mulder regaled her with a 
tale of mountains, snow, skis and a tree with Phoebe 
Green's name on it. After the laughter died down, Scully 
looked up from her second refill to find Mulder looking 
past her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just ... kids," he said in a mock-exasperated, 
world-weary tone. She looked behind her to see the back 
of a woman's head. Beyond her, on the opposite side of 
the table, was a cute little girl. She looked to be 
about five or six years of age with dark curly hair and 
big brown eyes. She was leaning far over to her right, 
staring unabashedly at Mulder.

"Your appeal to women apparently spans the generations," 
she said as she turned her attention back to him.

"I guess. She's been staring at me since they sat down 
about ten minutes ago," he leaned closer. "It's kind of 
disconcerting."

"Children stare. And it's still so early. The poor child 
probably feels like a zombie."

Mulder leaned further towards her. It was time to narrow 
their focus back to just the two of them. "Ah, Scully, 
you know these gratuitous zombie mentions turn me on."

Their world expanded again in seconds, as the child 
suddenly approached their table. 

"Hello," Mulder said looking around the store until he 
spotted the girl's mother ordering another cup of coffee 
to take out.
 
"Hello. My name is Arabella."

"Well, hi, Arabella. I'm ... "

"Daddy," she interrupted.

"What?"

"Daddy. Not now. But back then. When I wasn't Arabella. 
When I was Mary. You were my daddy. Once. Before we all 
died."

End of Act One


Act Two

"Arabella! What a thing to say," the woman admonished 
from her spot near the cashier. She was still fiddling 
with her purse but kept an eye on the child as she 
finished paying.

"But it's true, Mother. It's him. I told you I had 
another daddy."

"Arabella ... "

The little girl once again focused her attention on 
Mulder. "I just wanted to say hello and to tell you to 
stop worrying. See, you watched me die but now I'm alive 
again. And so are you. That's pretty cool, huh?"

Mulder sat there with his mouth slightly open. The girl 
turned to Scully and stared.

"I should remember you, too. But, I don't. Not yet. 
Maybe next time."

"Bella!" The well-dressed older woman had gathered their 
possessions, laid her hand across the child's shoulders 
and steered her towards the door. "Sorry. She has a very 
active imagination," she said to Mulder, by way of 
explanation. She hurried the child out before Mulder or 
Scully could do little more than give a nervous smile of 
reassurance in return.

"Well, that was ... " Mulder began.

"Typical." Scully said.

Mulder raised his eyebrows in response.

"I swear, Mulder. You're a magnet. Anything or anyone 
out of the norm automatically cleaves unto you."

"You don't seem so pissed when it's you doing the 
cleaving," he joked.

"I'm not pissed. Yet." She said, matter of factly, 
laying her napkin on the table and smoothing it flat 
against the surface.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, slightly 
defensive.

"It means," she said slowly, "if you don't go jumping to 
conclusions, and properly categorize this as a  'kids 
say the darndest things' moment,  I will have no problem 
with the situation whatsoever.  If you start talking 
about past lives ... "

"Reincarnation is a valid research subject, Scully. Many 
brilliant people have been interested in this 
phenomenon."

"Mulder," her voice held a warning.

"I'm dropping the subject. It's dropped." Beneath the 
nonchalant tone of her voice, he knew she was serious. 
It was not worth arguing about. Still, he was never one 
to let an opportunity to push the envelope pass him by. 
"She kind of looked like me, no?" he said with a smile.

"No," Scully said, rising and gathering the remnants of 
their breakfast together.
 
Their date was officially over.

Wednesday, 5:45 AM

The subject dropped but the interest remained.

Mulder drove through the streets of Washington, DC, lost 
in his own thoughts. When children under the age of four 
spoke of previous lives, those trained in the field sat 
up and took notice. Children Arabella's age were in the  
'iffy' category. They were certainly old enough for 
outside influences to have affected their thought 
processes. However, this child was so offhand about the 
subject that Mulder wanted to give her the benefit of 
the doubt. She hadn't seemed to want to shock him. She 
just wanted to inform him of something she considered a 
fact.

Getting Scully involved at this time was pointless. He 
simply wanted to have a little more contact with the 
child and possibly suggest further study if the parents 
seemed receptive. If not, that was also fine. Scully 
would think it was all nonsense and that he should stay 
out of it altogether. He recalled a time when she was 
vehemently opposed to just this type of exploration. 
Adding to this essential prejudice was the fact that 
they were now dealing with a child. The whole issue of 
children was something they rarely brought up. It was a 
sticky subject best left untouched.

So, he planned on a couple of early morning breakfasts 
in the coffee shop without Scully. What harm could come 
of it? 

By the time he arrived, Arabella's mother was trying to 
balance a backpack on top of a briefcase on the empty 
chair by their table. The child sat quietly and watched 
as the well-groomed blonde fussed over their 
possessions. She looked up as Mulder passed her.

"Hello, Daddy," she said in greeting. He stopped and 
smiled at her.

"Arabella ... " the somewhat harried woman said in a 
warning tone.

The child looked irritated. 

"You said I could. You said I could call him that."

"Honestly, Bella. Your imagination!"

"It's all right. I'm flattered to be the object of your 
daughter's ... um ... "

"Yes, I know. Don't know what to call it, do you?" She 
said. "Bella? You want a cinnamon bagel with cream 
cheese or butter?"

"I want the cream cheese with the raisins in it."

"Okay. I'll be right back. You stay here and don't 
move."

Mulder took a seat directly behind Arabella's. She 
turned to him as soon as her mother walked to the 
counter.

"Mister Daddy ... where's your girlfriend?"

Mulder smiled softly. "She's not here today."

Bella leaned back in her chair and looked upwards.

"I was trying to think if I saw her before but I don't 
think so. She was not the lady who was my momma. You 
know, the time you were my daddy? That lady had brown 
hair and brown eyes. Like me."

"Ah. And what was her name?"

"Momma," she looked at him as if he had a few screws 
loose.

Mulder smiled again. The kid was probably right.

"Momma," Bella mused. "That makes three. Momma, Mommy 
and Mother. Pretty cool, huh?"

He frowned in complete confusion. "Um, yeah. Pretty 
cool. Bella--do you watch a lot of television?"

"No. Not anymore," she looked around conspiratorially 
and nodded at the woman waiting for their order, "Mother 
won't let me. Mommy always did but not anymore."

"I don't understand."

"My mommy--the one who is not here now--she likes TV. My 
daddy liked it, too. But since they hate each other and 
are going to get 'vorced--mommy listens to mother now."

"Oh," he said, realization dawning. "You have two 
mothers."

"No, I have one mommy and one mother. Mommy is confused. 
Mother knows everything about everything. She said so. 
So, Mommy has to listen. And so do I. But really, I 
don't think I should because I'm not confused."

"Where's your daddy?"

"We lost him."

"Lost?"

"Yes, we ran and ran and finally lost him. Mommy and 
Mother were happy but I'm not. I love him. He's nice. 
Like you but better because I know him more."

"Talking your ear off, is she?" Arabella's 'mother' came 
back with a tray filled with bagels, juice and coffee.

"It's fine. I'm enjoying myself."

"Do you have children?" The woman asked.

"No."

"Well, they are a handful but also a great joy and 
comfort. And a source of entertainment--when they have 
active imaginations like my Arabella."

She petted Bella's head, much as she would a Golden 
Retriever's, before taking her seat.

Bella rolled her eyes. 

"I have to go to the bathroom. Can't eat before I wash 
my hands. Mommy don't like it."

"Get the key from the nice lady. Want me to go with 
you?"

"No. I'm a big girl. I go myself."

They watched as the child approached the counter, got 
the key and walked over to the ladies' room. She opened 
the door easily and went in.

Mulder looked over at the woman who sat a few feet away 
from him. This time, it was her chair facing in his 
direction. She looked more confident with the child in 
the other room. Now was a good time to broach the 
subject.

"Has she always--said things like that?"

"About second daddies and past lives? Yes. Ever since 
she was a toddler."

"I ... have an interest in psychology. There is a whole 
school of thought ... "

"Yes, I know.  That all this could be based on reality. 
We've explored some of the options but have decided that 
Bella needs to lead her life. Not concentrate on some 
bizarre memories that may not be more than some neural 
aberration that most people don't experience. The child 
doesn't need to be a lab rat. She needs to be five and a 
half years old."

"You're probably right."

"You'd know I was definitely right if you had a child of 
your own."

"I suppose I would," he said, doubtful whether she had 
any more experience of biologically having a child than 
he did.
 
"I'm hungry now," Arabella stated as she came running 
back to the table.

The woman laughed and handed the girl her breakfast. 
Mulder had no further conversation with either of them 
until he was getting ready to leave.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit abrupt earlier," the woman 
said as he was putting on his coat. "You've been very 
kind. Some people just don't understand and pass 
judgement on what she says. Anyway, I just wanted to say 
I hope we'll be running into each other again. My name 
is Constance. Constance Jeffers. And you're ... "

"Fox Mulder."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder. We'll see you around."

Mulder smiled and left for work.


Hoover Building
Thursday, 12:02 PM

Arabella Jeffers. The other "woman."

It was fairly easy to find out her name. The girl on the 
early morning shift at Starbucks was more than happy to 
keep her ears open. She knew a g-woman when she saw one 
and was all too willing to act as a junior spy in the 
making. No amount of denial on Scully's part could 
convince her that *they* weren't on a case. She had the 
child's last name ready for her by the time she walked 
into work this morning.

And also confirmed what Scully knew all along.

Mulder had breakfast there two mornings in a row without 
her.

She couldn't be angry. Well, she could but it wouldn't 
be fair. Children had the tendency to complicate 
matters. She remembered when she discovered Emily. She 
wasn't thinking about her career, or ties with Mulder or 
anything else but claiming the little girl as her own. 
If Mulder were presented with a child who had any kind 
of connection to him--no matter how remote--she could 
understand his need to find out more about her.

However, the connection *was* remote. And suspect. 
Mulder didn't always think rationally in matters such as 
these. It was her job to find and present the facts.

She thought of another time when Mulder didn't think 
with his head. A time when he so needed to be part of 
something. Something big and grand that spanned 
generations and lifetimes.
 
She had searched for facts then, too.

And came up with proof of the existence of the two 
people Mulder named as belonging to him and his eternal  
"soulmate".

She kind of shot herself in the foot with that one, 
Scully thought with a wry smile.

Mulder would have moved heaven and earth to get Melissa 
away from Vernon Ephesian.  And he would have tested the 
soulmate theory. She was certain of it. He would be busy 
testing while Scully was moving her own heaven and earth 
to prove they were all full of shit.

But now she was treading in murkier water. A child was a 
whole other story.

For one thing, she didn't want Mulder to get himself in 
trouble for meddling in Arabella's life. The FBI didn't 
look too kindly on their employees stalking children, 
and using a defense of parental rights through 
reincarnation would surely not sit well with anyone.
 
For another, she didn't want him to be hurt, believing 
with his heart, instead of his head. 

So, information had to be gathered. Facts had to be 
presented.

She just hoped she wasn't shooting herself in the foot 
again.


Constance Jeffers' Apartment
7:30 PM

Arabella was sitting on the couch, bouncing up and down 
as she spoke to Elizabeth, her biological mother. The 
woman looked younger than Constance. Her dark hair was 
pulled up in a ponytail; her shirt tucked haphazardly 
into her jeans.

"He's nice, Mommy. He lets me talk and I like him. Not 
as much as my daddy of now, but since he's not here 
anymore on account of we lost him ... "

"No, Belle, don't even think about it."

"What? I didn't *say* anything," a definite whine was in 
the making.

"You were thinking it. The only daddy you have is your 
real daddy. He loves you. Don't ever forget that."

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted the 
discussion between Bella and her mother.

"Arabella--why don't you go to your room and play?" 
Constance told her.

"Play with what?"

"A game or something."

"I can't play a game by myself."

"Then read."

"I take too long. I can't read good yet."

"Don't pout, Arabella."

"I'm not pouting. I don't like that name, either. It's 
silly."

"It's your name."

"Daddy never called me that. Neither did Mommy 'til you 
told her to."

"Arabella," Elizabeth said in a weary tone of half-
warning.

"Fine. I'm going. I'm going to play with my dollies. 
They like me."

She got up and went to the other room, closing the door 
behind her with a definite slam.

"Elizabeth, I thought you were ready for this," 
Constance said, softly.

"I am. I was. But, she's a baby."

"She's a child. Old enough to understand that she has 
older people she must defer to. As we have Someone we 
must defer to. Had you found the strength of obedience 
earlier, you would be living your reward now and 
Arabella would never have been born into the heartache 
of this world."

Elizabeth looked down, tears in her eyes.

"I tried. But, my child ...  .you can't understand what 
it's like."

"Can't? I *can't*? I have a uterus just like any other 
woman. I was just able to control myself better. And, if 
I had succumbed to the evils of the flesh, I can assure 
you I still would have had the wherewithal to train my 
child as a proper Christian."

"I'm sorry. You're right, of course."

"Of course. Now, what did I interrupt? She wants to get 
closer to Mr. Mulder, doesn't she?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Good. This should be encouraged. He must be the third 
sacrifice."

"You keep talking about the third sacrifice but you 
don't tell me anything other than it will lead to the 
ultimate sacrifice."

"You don't need to know anything more. You're acting 
like Arabella. You already gave up one chance at eternal 
life, for you and your child. He's damned for this 
world. Don't do the same thing to Arabella. Prove your 
faith."


Starbucks
Friday, 5:45 AM

Mulder sat by his window seat watching Constance park 
her car. The child unstrapped herself from her seatbelt 
and let herself out of the car before Constance could 
round the front of the vehicle.

Arabella had her arms crossed in front of her and her 
lower sip stuck out in a pout that was truly Mulder-
worthy. She suddenly looked at the coffee shop window 
and met his gaze. A smile crossed her face and she ran 
through the door and into the restaurant. Inside, she 
climbed aboard his lap before he could greet her, and 
squeezed his neck with her little arms.

"I hate her," she declared, the 'her' in question just 
coming through the door.

"Arabella!" Constance noted the child's position on 
Mulder's lap.

"It's all right, really, " For once, Mulder was  
uncertain about what he should be doing or saying under 
the circumstances.

"It's not all right at all. This is highly inappropriate 
behavior, Arabella, and you know it."

"I want to talk to my friend."

"Your friend?" Constance asked.

Mulder sensed a challenge behind the simple question and 
felt Arabella shift in his lap.

"My old daddy."

"He's not your daddy, Arabella. Old or new."

Mulder frowned. 

Constance had goaded the words out of the child's mouth, 
then denied them.

"Come, Arabella. Let's eat."

"Can't I sit with ... him. While you get it?"

Constance raised an eyebrow in question and Mulder 
nodded his head in agreement. She turned and went to the 
counter to order.

"She made my mommy cry. I don't like her any more. And 
I'm not calling her 'mother.' No matter what she says," 
she said in a whisper.

"And what does she say?" Mulder asked softly.

"She says God won't love me no more. But daddy and 
mommy--they told me God is good and he loves me no 
matter what. So, I like that better."

Mulder smiled. "Me, too."

"If she makes my mommy cry again--I'm gonna, I'm gonna 
... find my daddy and he'll fix everything."

"Arabella, don't pester Mr. Mulder. Come on. I've got 
you hot chocolate," she said, turning from the counter.

"My name is Belle," she whispered to Mulder, squeezed 
his neck and joined Constance.

Mulder spent the next half-hour watching them but had 
very little additional contact. Arabella ate her meal in 
relative silence, intent on buffing up her chocolate 
milk mustache. Constance was equally intent on making it 
disappear. More pouting ensued.

It was time for Mulder to call in the troops.


Hoover Building
Friday, 7:55 AM

Scully was pacing by the time Mulder walked into the 
office. She didn't want to bring the subject up but he 
had to know certain things about his 'daughter' before 
he became emotionally attached.

Mulder walked through the door. He reached out and 
touched her shoulder.

"Good morning, Scully."

"Mulder, we have to talk."

"Yes, we do. Sit down a minute. I have a confession to 
make."

"A confession?" She sat in her chair, while Mulder 
leaned against her desk.

"Yes, I know there's no dark booth but I thought I'd 
just wing it. It's good for the soul, so they say," he 
didn't look completely convinced. "Anyway, I just wanted 
to tell you I've been going to Starbucks every single 
morning since we saw that little girl."

"Yes, Mulder. I know."

"You do?" He asked, thoroughly surprised.

"Yes, I assumed you would and confirmed that you did."

"Are you angry?"

"No."

"Hurt?"

"No." 

"Disappointed?"

"No, Mulder. None of the above. We can discuss all of 
this later but right now, you have to listen to me and 
keep an open mind because I'm pretty sure ... "

"I'm being played like a violin," he stated simply. 

"You know?"

"No. I don't *know*. But I strongly suspect. I'm turning 
to you for the hard evidence."

She smiled a moment before getting serious.

"There are some strange, strange circumstances and one 
very bizarre connection. It could be a coincidence but 
that would really be a stretch of the imagination."

"Tell me."

"Okay. I got the child's name from the girl who works 
the morning shift in the coffee shop. She asked the 
child directly while the mother was bringing things to 
the table. Her name is Arabella Jeffers."

"How convenient," Mulder said.

"What is?"

"It's convenient that everyone is allowed such access to 
the child. I think that's one of the first things that 
aroused my suspicions. She's not yet six years old and I 
was allowed to be alone with her several times. Today, 
she was even sitting on my lap with her arms around my 
neck. This woman doesn't know me. I'm just some strange 
guy who has no business being anywhere near--never mind 
being alone with her while her mother is on the opposite 
side of the coffee shop. Not a smart move in this day 
and age."

"No, it's not."

"I'm sorry. I interrupted. Continue, Scully."

"Arabella was recently registered into a kindergarten 
class here in D.C. There are no previous school records 
for her anywhere. Strange, but not completely unheard 
of. While most children attend some sort of pre-school, 
it's not mandatory. However, what is really odd is the 
papers used in her enrollment. She has both a mother, 
and a guardian: Constance Jeffers. Unrelated. Arabella's 
last name is the same as the guardian's. The Gunmen say 
that the papers looked authentic enough but were not 
filed anywhere. Apparently, they were so convincing, no 
one went through the red tape necessary to find out they 
were fakes. Anyway, a search using her mother's 
information turned up her birth certificate. She was 
born Belle Wiley in Los Angeles, California to Elizabeth 
Wiley: mother. Father: Unknown."

"Okay."

"It gets stranger, still. A search of Elizabeth herself 
came up with the following information: eleven years 
ago, she gave birth to a baby boy. Scott. Father unknown 
in this case as well. The legal guardianship of this 
child was given to Elizabeth's parents almost six years 
ago, right before she was due to give birth to Belle. 
She moved to California, gave birth and married a David 
Curtis when Belle was one. He legally adopted her. That 
fact was conveniently missing in all the school records. 
They have Elizabeth as a single mother, never married. 
They were--and are--married. Six months ago, David filed 
missing persons reports for Elizabeth and Belle. He 
doesn't have a great deal of money but he's spent quite 
a bit trying to track them down. Everything being under 
Constance Jeffers' name has complicated matters. Since 
he's an adoptive father, he just doesn't have the rights 
Elizabeth does. The police have pretty much considered 
this case simple abandonment due to probable domestic 
discord."

"From what Belle told me, I was under the impression 
they might be lovers--Elizabeth and Constance."

"That, I don't know. But wait--you haven't heard the 
good part."

"Which is?"

"Before giving her son up to her parents, Elizabeth had 
one address listed for six months. The Ephesian compound 
in Apison, Tennessee." 

The hand Mulder was using to help him lean against the 
desk slipped a bit and Mulder had to take a brief second 
to steady himself. 

Scully finished presenting her evidence. "And Constance? 
Well, a little digging around has shown that she may 
very well be one of the masterminds behind the Temple of 
the Seven Stars."

End of Act 2



Act 3

"Close your mouth, Mulder," Scully said after a few 
seconds.

He closed it only to open it again.

"I'm shocked."

"I thought you would be. I was myself. I have ordered 
transcripts from Melissa Ephesian's therapy sessions and 
a few other files that will hopefully shed some more 
light on the situation. But the Gunmen were pretty 
certain of their facts. Constance was a psychiatrist. 
Specializing in hypnotherapy. It is suspected that she 
was on the outside of this movement--recruiting from her 
patient base. When suspicions started being voiced, she 
suddenly packed up her practice and wasn't heard of 
until her recent reemergence in Elizabeth's life."

"I'll be damned."


Constance Jeffers' apartment
4:30 PM

"It's time, Elizabeth," Constance said, placing a pad of 
paper and a pen before the woman resting on her couch.

"What's time?" Elizabeth had been napping. She was still 
not completely alert.

"It's time for the second sacrifice."

"You never told me what that was."

"You need to join Vernon's other wives. You need to 
complete the cycle. He only took six wives with him. You 
know you were meant to be the seventh. You need to join 
him. Now."

"I ... can't. My baby."

"Your 'baby' will be just fine. No harm will come to 
her. I am not Vernon. Now, come. Write the note and this 
evening, your mission will be complete. We will all be 
together soon enough."

Elizabeth frowned as she slowly rose from the couch and 
walked toward the desk.


Mulder's Apartment
7:30 PM

Mulder unlocked the door and escorted Scully into his 
apartment. She promptly sat on his couch and pulled a 
few thick files from her briefcase.

"I could have read all of it, you know," Mulder said, a 
touch of annoyance in his voice. "You could have driven 
us home and I could have read the entire report myself," 
Mulder told her.

"I know. But why open up old wounds?"

"For me, or for you?" 

She stared at him. "I know you are trying to be  
flippant and I'm not happy about it. I wasn't happy at 
the time, either. It's interesting to hear you 
acknowledge that the Ephesian case might have been 
painful for me. At the time, you were so consumed with 
what you *thought* was happening you paid very little 
attention to anything--or anyone--but yourself. I hope 
you won't let history repeat itself."

"Okay," he said, still not quite understanding what her 
problem with the case was. "I can see where you might 
think my actions were selfish. You were never fond of 
the regression sessions--for Melissa or myself."

"No, I wasn't. And I believe I told you so at the time. 
But I really wasn't fond of you falling hook, line and 
sinker over this romantic notion of a disturbed woman 
being your soulmate while I was risking life and limb 
and sanity every day to stand by your side. I did it 
willingly, and would do it again but I can't say it made 
me feel wonderful to know that, had she lived, you would 
more than likely have run off to be with your 'soulmate' 
because she tickled your paranormal fancy. Even if the 
situation itself made no sense."
 
Mulder stared at her but chose not to say anything. She 
had never talked of her personal feelings over this case 
before and some of what she was saying surprised him. He 
had always assumed the case struck a raw nerve with her 
due to the extreme breach of protocol involved. It 
hadn't really occurred to him that the whole soulmate 
issue was the problem. He wanted to hear more.

"Enough of this," Scully said, "I only brought it up 
because of the connection to the little girl. And please 
don't leap to the conclusion that Arabella was your's 
and Melissa's love child in 1247 or something."

He winced as she turned her attention completely away 
from him and began rifling through the pages of the file 
until she found what she was looking for.

"Ah. Here it is," she said, after a few moments of 
silence. Her voice was as calm as it always was when she 
focused on a case. Mulder took a small breath and 
concentrated on her words, leaving their relationship 
issues behind, for the moment. "Melissa told us the 
following, during her therapy session: 'There was a ... 
woman who came to the temple. She and her son had been 
living on the street.'

The therapist asked what her name was. Melissa replied 
that it was Elizabeth. Her son was named Scott. She then 
continued. 'Vernon took a liking to the boy. He said he 
was a prophet returning. He took the boy away from his 
mother.' Remember that story?"

"She snuck in and brought the child candy," Mulder 
responded. "Vernon was disgusted with them both and beat 
them in front of each other. Then he rejected the child 
as prophet, humiliated him further by calling him 
garbage and threw them out."

"Right," Scully said. "Melissa never told us about the 
timing but 'Sidney' did call the tip into the FBI saying 
that Vernon was abusing children. That might have been 
the incident that pushed her over the edge."

"Elizabeth and Scott. Not uncommon names but it would be 
quite a coincidence if another mother and son with those 
names lived in the compound at that time," Mulder mused.

"Yes, it would."

"So, we have two women associated with the Temple--
trying to contact me. I assume it's just me since no one 
has mentioned you since the first time we met up with 
them."

"That's a fair assumption," she acknowledged.

"And a child who claims to be my reincarnated daughter."

"Yes."

Scully's calm, businesslike demeanor was beginning to 
make him nervous.

"I'm *not* leaping to conclusions, Scully. There could 
be many rational explanations for all of this."

"Yes."

"I actually don't believe she is my daughter. Not even 
in the past."

That seemed to get her attention.

"Really? Why not?" she asked.

"The circumstances surrounding this whole situation are 
highly suspicious. I just believe it's all a set up and 
not a genuine case of reincarnation."

She sat back against the cushions and gave out a small, 
barely perceptible sigh.

"Mulder. When all this is over, we need to sit and 
discuss your needs."

He smirked at her comment. It was a force of habit.
She ignored it. A response also honed through years of 
practice.

"We need to discuss your need to be a parent," she 
clarified.

"I don't need to be a parent," he said quickly.

"It's not something you've probably even explored until 
now."

"I've explored it many times, Scully. There were times 
when I thought about settling down, having children. But 
it is all part of *settling down.* It would be 
irresponsible to have children in the line of work we 
are in now. And if we ever do settle down into something 
more ... sedentary ...  safe ... we can discuss adoption 
or whatever you want. Both of us. Both exploring our 
needs. It's not one person over the other."

She nodded slowly. He was glad he still had the ability 
to surprise her once in a while.

The phone rang. 

"Mulder." 

"Mr. Mulder. I can't talk for long. I am Arabella's 
mother. Her real mother. I live at 1298 Sycamore. 
Apartment 9B. Please. There isn't much time. She's going 
to make me drink the poison and then take Belle and kill 
her. And you will be next. Please. Find my daughter and 
take her back to her father. Please."

He got off the phone and turned to Scully.


Outside of 1298 Sycamore
Friday, 9:00 PM

1298 Sycamore was quite a distance away and they had 
called the police for help and/or backup before they had 
even left Mulder's apartment building.

The EMT were loading Elizabeth onto the ambulance as 
Mulder and Scully were pulling up. 

Scully was out of the car before Mulder completely came 
to a stop. She flashed her badge and asked what the 
local PD had found.

"Looked like an attempted suicide, except for what you 
told us on the phone. A half glass of iced tea laced 
with something, a note."

"The child ... the little girl ... "

"Nope, no little girl. Just the woman unconscious on the 
couch."

"Is she going to make it?"

He nodded toward the emergency workers. "They think she 
might have a good chance. Her breathing was pretty 
strong and they've been working on her since they found 
her."

"Can we have a look upstairs?"

"Sure. And we'll be taking her to Mercy in case you want 
to join up with us there."

"Thank you."

Mulder and Scully went to the upscale apartment. The 
smell of vomit hit them as soon as they came through the 
door. They bypassed the local police and went through 
the rooms. There were two bedrooms--one functional, the 
other a more cluttered adult bedroom clearly shared by a 
child. Belle's dolls and books were everywhere.

They opened the closet doors.

"It's impossible for us to know what's missing, Mulder. 
There is clearly a good supply of clothing left but ... 
how much was taken, if any--we have no way of knowing."

He frowned. "You're right. I don't think we'll find much 
here. And I have absolutely no clue where she'd take 
Belle. We have to talk to the Elizabeth."



Mercy Hospital
3:37 AM

Mulder and Scully approached room 717. An extremely 
tired looking man in his mid-thirties was pacing the 
hallway. When he spotted them, he went to them 
immediately.

"Anything?" he asked.

"You are ... " Mulder prompted, pretty much knowing the 
answer.

"I'm sorry. I'm David Curtis. Elizabeth's husband. Have 
you found Belle?"

"No. I'm sorry. We've been through the apartment and 
have questioned people locally. Questioned a lot of the 
tenants of the building--doormen, security guards. No 
one saw anything," Mulder said.

"The doctor called and told us Elizabeth was finally 
awake and ready to talk."

"Yes, go right on in. I'll wait here in case she wants 
to tell you things she might not necessarily want me to 
hear."

Scully gave him a brief, reassuring smile before she and 
Mulder walked into the room.

Elizabeth was sitting up in bed as they made their brief 
introductions. She looked pale and exhausted but leaned 
forward, seemingly eager to answer any questions the two 
agents might have for her.

They sat on mismatched plastic chairs near her bed. 

"We're going to need to have a brief history of your 
involvement with the Temple of the Seven Stars, Mrs. 
Curtis. Anything you can tell us might give us some idea 
of where to begin looking for your little girl," Mulder 
said.

After a moment's thought, Elizabeth began to speak. 
"When I had my son ... I was very young. Very young. My 
parents were not happy with the situation, mostly 
because I didn't tell them who the father was. He was 
married and didn't want anything to do with either of us 
and I swore we'd never ask for anything from him. Not 
one penny. 

Well, my parents were more than willing to have us all 
live under the same roof, but they were still my 
parents. They wanted me to do things their way. I was 
headstrong and we argued a lot over decisions I was 
beginning to make. We stayed with them for four years. I 
finished high school and had some odd jobs here and 
there. Scott was doing well with his grandparents. But 
they still wanted me to sue Scott's father for child 
support, to ease the financial burden off of all of us 
and let me use more of my own money for goals I should 
be working toward. We had one last blow-up and, being 
arrogant and stupid, I ran away. With my child. And 
within a few months, we were moving from shelter to 
shelter. But I couldn't swallow my pride and go back to 
my folks. 

Vernon found me panhandling one day, me and my son. He 
looked at my little boy, who was about five at the time, 
and said he looked like one of his children. I was 
messed up. Completely confused. And here was a man who 
cared about me and my boy. And had the keys to eternal 
life right in his hand. And he could surely talk the 
good talk. There didn't seem to be much to think about. 
I went with him."

"And he abused both of you?" Scully asked.

"No. Not until the night he threw us out. At first, he 
was real nice. He told me that I would be his seventh 
bride. I would complete his worldly obligations and we 
could all move on to heaven. But, my boy needed to learn 
a few more things about the way of the Lord and he felt 
I was too easy on him. He took him away and, for a 
while, I was content, knowing he was grooming the two of 
us for the afterlife. But then, I heard stories. Of how 
harsh he was to the children. How unforgiving. I was his 
mom. I went to my child. And it was really my fault that 
he was beaten. It was my fault that I was beaten. I 
instigated it all through my stupidity. 

He threw us out and then ... within days, everything was 
over. Everyone in the compound had killed themselves and 
Scott and I were on the outside. And I was pregnant."

"Belle is Vernon's child?" Mulder asked, leaning forward 
in his chair.

"Yes."

"Did anyone know this?" Scully asked.

"Constance had suspected I was pregnant. There was no 
real medical care on the compound. She was going to get 
me a home pregnancy test on her next trip out but by the 
time she came back, I was gone and the troubles were 
starting. She went into hiding."

"What was her role in all of this?" Scully asked.

"She was our counsellor. We saw her when we first came 
in and during the whole time we were there. She made us 
keep our goals in sight."

"How?" Scully took note of her odd phrasing.

"Just by talking. Relaxation techniques."

"Then what happened?"

"I knew I had to start over. I contacted my parents. I 
couldn't saddle them with two kids. So, I thought I 
would go and have my baby and give her up for adoption. 
I did give them Scott. I signed over guardianship and 
moved to California. My sister was there. She enrolled 
me in some secretarial courses while I was pregnant. I 
gave birth and later worked in an office. That's where I 
met my husband. I never did give up Belle. I just loved 
her so much. And I didn't go back to pick up Scott 
because ... I don't know. My parents just did so much of 
a better job of raising him than I ever did. I almost 
got the poor child killed. But with Belle--we had a 
fresh start. My parents liked David so much, they agreed 
with the arrangement completely. I see Scott a few times 
a year and keep in touch with him."

Scully looked like she was about to say something, 
thought better of it, and dropped the subject.

"What about Constance? How does she fit into the picture 
now?" she asked instead.

"I met up with her by accident. She saw me with Belle 
and said something like, 'well--I guess you didn't need 
the home pregnancy test after all.' We started talking. 
We'd meet every once in a while. She said that she 
really thought our mission had ended too soon. That 
there were those of us left behind that should be 
experiencing the joys of the kingdom. She had her ways 
... the more I listened, the more it all made sense. 
We'd meet and have tea every once in a while, and then I 
started having relaxation sessions with her, because she 
was thinking of starting up a practice again and needed 
to brush up on her skills."

"And she convinced you to leave your husband and follow 
her?" Mulder asked.

"Yes. David was a very down to earth man. He knew about 
my past and a little about my connection with the Temple 
of the Seven Stars but put it down to some youthful need 
to belong. He would never, ever have gone along with 
what we were planning. And, as Constance said, if you 
weren't for us, you were against us.

We wanted to start up the church again. But we needed to 
prove some things to those who had been on the border--
waiting to come in. We needed to convince them that they 
should leave their lives behind and follow our way. That 
they should be our disciples. And for this to happen--we 
needed three sacrifices. "

"Three?" Mulder asked.

"I knew what the third sacrifice was. I always knew 
that. But I only just figured out the first two were me, 
and Belle."

"And the third?"

"The third is you, Mr. Mulder. You were going to be 
sacrificed so people could see how strong and powerful 
we really are. Then we could gather everyone together 
and make the ultimate sacrifice--our mortal lives in 
exchange for eternal life." Elizabeth shrugged her 
shoulders. "It all made so much sense at the time."

"And when did it stop making sense?" Scully asked 
sharply.

"When the look in Belle's eyes began to resemble the 
look in Scott's." She looked blankly into the distance, 
seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Then she turned her 
attention exclusively in one direction. "You have to 
stop them, Mr. Mulder. You have to get back my Belle."


Mulder's car
4:45 AM

"Get back her Belle," Scully said with a huff, as the 
car moved along the highway. 

"Oh, come on, Scully. I thought you'd be a little more 
sympathetic."

"I was. Until she told me she let her child be 
hypnotized into believing she had lived and died before. 
She sat back and watched as that child was taken from 
her bed--every single night. Put on a couch--in a dark 
room--with a bright light shining in her face, while 
pictures of you and Melissa Ephesian were projected on a 
screen."

"I think she needs help, Scully."

"She needs serious help, Mulder. And I'm not so sure she 
should be mothering any child until she gets it."

"Well, fortunately, I think David Curtis is more than 
capable of parenting the child while Elizabeth 
straightens out her life. Now, I just need to get his 
little girl back so I can prove my theory." 

"*We* will."

"Scully, I'm not so sure both of us going is a good 
idea. This woman has obvious issues with me, not you at 
all."

"Mulder. This is not up for discussion. Or one sentence 
worth of debate. We are doing this. Both of us. Case 
closed."

He turned and looked at her face. Her eyes were looking 
straight out into the darkness of the early morning, her 
chin set and determined. 

He smiled softly. Skeptical or not, she was the only one  
he wanted to help him tickle his paranormal fancy. 

"Fine," he said after a moment. "Straight to the 
airport, then? No stops?"

"No stops."


Apison, Tennessee
Saturday, 2 PM

They were in a rental car on an all too familiar road. 
Mulder was driving and Scully was in the backseat, 
crouched on the floor, beneath Mulder's trench coat. 
They were heading toward the back of the former Ephesian 
compound.

"Don't talk anymore, Mulder. I don't want them even 
seeing your lips move. The field office should have 
agents in place by now. Close, but not too close. Try 
and park near an area with bushes ... somewhere near the 
perimeter so I can get out of the car and watch you 
under cover of foliage," she was silent for a moment. 
"Mulder, be careful. We're not through with this 
lifetime yet."

He cleared his throat in acknowledgement before parking 
the car, and getting out. The cool air felt good on his 
face.

After walking through the field a few moments, he felt 
the familiar melancholy the location inspired, the 
tragedy of lives lost. But he did not feel the spanning 
of generations and the pull he once thought he had. 

His soul had a home. It did not seek another.

After a few moments, he looked past a stretch of 
dramatically overgrown grass and found them. He saw 
Constance first, surrounded by twelve people. Men and 
women standing in a circle. The group bowed their heads, 
while their lips moved in a chant. Constance looked up 
and saw Mulder. Her lips curled in a smile. It was not a 
pleasant sight.

"Step aside, ladies and gentlemen. The third sacrifice 
approaches."

Mulder stopped walking toward them. "The third 
sacrifice? Hey--if I can't take first place, I'm not 
playing."

"Mr. Mulder," Constance sighed dramatically. "Please. 
Now is not the time to be flippant. We have some very 
serious work to accomplish."

"Lady, frankly I don’t care what you're trying to 
accomplish. All I want is the little girl."

"Your daughter?" she asked with an even broader smile.

"Daughter, my ass. Just give me the child and I'll be on 
my way."

"You don't really believe I'll do that, do you?"

"I thought it was worth a shot." He shrugged.

The dirty dozen moved aside to reveal Belle on a 
makeshift altar. A dozen lit candles surrounded her 
still body.
 
"She's not ... ?" Mulder's eyes widened in horror.

"No. Of course not," Constance seemed genuinely insulted 
over his assumption. "She's alive. She's just ... 
sedated. As you well know, she is not known for her 
silence and Elizabeth never taught her proper respect 
toward her elders. But she will stay alive as long as 
you cooperate. However ... " Constance trailed off as 
the man closest to Belle pulled out a hypodermic and 
grabbed Belle's arm, the needle pressing against the 
baby soft skin. "Now, you will be a good little agent of 
the FBI and come here."

Mulder drew his gun.

"Put down the hypodermic. Now!" he shouted.

"Now, now, Mr. Mulder," she said, pulling out a gun of 
her own and aiming at the child. "I can assure you, 
death by this type of lethal injection would be a lot 
less painful than the type brought about by a gun. 
However, it's your choice. And that choice can be 
avoided altogether if you will just cooperate."

Grand gestures of any kind were too much of a risk with 
Belle's life in imminent danger. As Mulder approached, 
two men grabbed him and tied him securely to a tree near 
the altar.

"Let her go," he said, watching Constance put her gun in 
the pocket of her jacket.

"Mr. Mulder? Where is she going to go? She's a child and 
she's unconscious. Of course, if you've fulfilled your 
part of the bargain, she will be absolutely unharmed. 
You don't understand. She is worth far more alive than 
dead. She is the child--the only living child--of our 
former leader. Given proper training, she has the 
potential to bring in many converts. Save many souls."

"Elizabeth told me there would be a mass suicide." 
Mulder said. "Just as there was before. She mentioned a 
third sacrifice. If I'm going to be that sacrifice ... I 
have a right to know why."
 
"That seems reasonable. I knew it was pointless to tell 
Elizabeth everything. She couldn't even understand the 
information she was given. There are three sacrifices 
necessary to complete the first phase of the 
reconstruction of our Temple. The first is Belle. She 
will not die, but her life is going to be completely 
tied to the church. From here on out, her every waking 
moment will be occupied in gathering disciples--in her 
own, immature way, of course. But she is charismatic. 
How could she not be with Vernon as her father? And she 
will learn. She's smart and quick.

Belle's mother was the second. At one time, she was 
being groomed to be Vernon's seventh bride. We've just 
helped her fulfill her destiny."

Mulder did not correct her assumption.

" And you ... you are a representative of 
useless earthly authority.  Our people were not 
ready for the ultimate sacrifice, but your 
meddling forced their hands.  Vernon hadn't yet 
taken his seventh bride when you interfered. 
There were others involved but your death will be 
noticed. And those who have left in fear, will now 
return in confidence, assured that divine justice will 
be served."

"And then you will all kill yourselves?" Mulder asked, 
hoping to buy more time.

"We shall see what course of action would better serve 
our Lord," Constance replied but Mulder noticed the 
smile slipping from her face, and a look of pure 
annoyance taking its place. She shook it off and picked 
up a pitcher from the altar. She approached Mulder.

"The flames of justice will burn eternally," she said, 
as she poured the liquid from the pitcher all over 
Mulder. He could smell some sort of oily substance. Not 
gasoline--kerosene, perhaps. He swallowed hard, thinking 
of how many seconds it would take before the flames 
would consume him completely. He knew there was very 
little chance that he would die instantaneously and the 
thought of living long enough to know he was burning to 
death made his breaths come from his lungs in quick, 
painful bursts.

Constance bent down and gathered twigs and leaves and 
placed them by Mulder's feet. She looked up and spoke 
only to him, "It makes the fire look more impressive," 
she said with a smile. Mulder felt the color drain from 
his face. His breaths were even more uneven than they 
were before.

She returned to the altar.

"Pick up your candles. It is time," she announced.

Each of the twelve solemnly picked up a candle. As the 
man with the hypodermic reached for his, a shot rang 
out. He doubled over in pain and the needle fell to the 
ground.

A sudden chorus of 'Freeze, FBI!' came from several 
directions and there was frantic movement around him. 
But just as Mulder focused on his own personal fireball 
running toward him, his eyes widened in horror as 
Constance freed her arm from the agent holding her, 
grabbed a lit candle and threw it at the pile of leaves 
by his feet. A small flame started and Mulder closed his 
eyes, hoping that whatever happened would be quick. He 
felt air whoosh around him as Scully threw her raincoat 
over the burning twigs. After a few seconds, he opened 
an eye to find no fire--just Scully stomping her boots 
on the raincoat, making sure no spark was left to catch 
the fuel that Mulder was doused in. Luckily, Constance 
had gathered the leaves and twigs after she had poured 
the kerosene. They were untouched by the accelerant.

Scully stopped her little dance and began to untie 
Mulder. She was intent on the rope, while he was busy 
watching the FBI agents arrest each member of the group. 
After Constance had been read her rights, she looked 
over at him.
 
"You have done well. Thank you. My unjust incarceration 
will bring many sheep unto the fold, I can assure you,"  
she said, calm and unflappable.

As soon as Scully freed him, they walked over to the 
paramedics attending to Belle. 

"She'll be okay. We'll take her to the hospital to run 
some tests but I'm pretty sure they just have her 
heavily sedated." 

Mulder watched the child. She didn't look drugged. She 
looked as if she were sleeping the sleep of an innocent, 
her breathing audible through her slightly congested 
nose.

They had succeeded. Mulder could bring a sweet, 
precocious child back to the father who loved her.
__________________

Epilogue

Scully's apartment
Saturday, 11:03 PM

Mulder opened the door of Scully's apartment with his 
own key. He walked directly to her couch and sat down on 
the armrest without taking his coat off. 

It had been a harrowing day. He had decided to stay in 
Tennessee a few more hours to wrap things up, while 
Scully took an earlier flight to check on Elizabeth's 
progress and start the dreaded paperwork on the whole 
ordeal.

"Was your flight on-time?" Scully asked, coming through 
the kitchen and lightly kissing Mulder on the cheek.

"Pretty much."

"Did Constance sing?"

"Like a bird."

"Tell me."

He stood up and slowly removed his coat. He laid it on 
the armrest he had been sitting on. He sat on the couch, 
with Scully next to him.

"Constance and Vernon had been the masterminds of the 
Temple. They both were very much in it together. Because 
he had a naturally charismatic personality, he became 
the 'leader.' She, however, was a brilliant 
hypnotherapist. She recruited some members of the 
religion this way, but more than that--once they were 
involved--she brainwashed them into giving up more and 
more of their personalities and melding them with the 
group's concerns.

A big stumbling block came with the actual 
interpretation of the religion they both founded. He 
very much believed in his own interpretation of the Book 
of Revelations. She had religious beliefs, but she also 
was on quite a power trip and had no qualms about 
bending the beliefs to suit her own purposes. Vernon 
went about his business and was convinced that his 
earthly job was almost complete; while Constance felt 
there were a whole lot of people out there with her name 
on them. She wanted more conversions and a lot more time 
on this mortal coil.

"Vernon was now a liability. In spite of the praises she 
was singing to her new disciples out there in the field, 
she *wanted* him gone. And she wanted the original 
followers gone. They were completely taken by Vernon and 
would never switch allegiances. But she could use the 
mass suicides and the 'legend' of the church to her 
advantage. To start her own religion. Enter Melissa 
Ephesian. In one of her first sessions with her, 
Constance realized she had a multiple personality 
disorder. She used it to her advantage. She made some 
suggestions during their 'relaxation sessions.' Talked 
about true believers standing up for justice for the 
abused children. She knew which buttons to push. 

And, it worked. Through 'Sidney,' and the FBI's 
involvement, the mass suicide took care of Ephesian and 
his followers.  She's been lying low--keeping her eye on 
Elizabeth and plotting---all these years. She had enough 
time to gather her twelve disciples and was ready for a 
big time comeback.  She still is. Only she will now have 
to do it behind bars. And she's absolutely convinced she 
will. Apparently, those twelve people are not the only 
ones she's gathered. We can only hope they will not 
carry on her work without her."

Mulder leaned back a bit and Scully put her hand on his 
shoulder, rubbing slightly.

"How is Elizabeth?" he asked, leaning into her touch.

"She's fine. She's already started therapy. Not a moment 
too soon. Tell me about your last assignment of the 
day," she said, smiling but sympathetic at the same 
time.

"Mission accomplished."

"No tears?"

"Scully. What do you take me for? Some sort of 
sentimental fool?"

She smiled and put her arms around him. He wrapped his 
own around her waist and held on tightly.


Washington, DC
Days Inn, 10 PM

Belle was seated cross-legged next to David Curtis--the 
man who had been her true "Daddy" almost all her life. 
She was busy pulling the packaging away from two new 
dolls, and talking non-stop about her adventure. 

"And then ... mommy took a nap, and then--that mean old 
mother took me outside and said we needed to get some 
help. I didn't want to leave Mommy because she looked 
kind of funny but that Mother-lady said I had to. So, 
then she gave me some chocolate milk and I got real 
tired. I closed my eyes for just a minute and didn't see 
her again until I woke up in a car and she was gone. And 
I wasn't where I was before. And that other man--the one 
you met--the one who is not my daddy at all--not even a 
hundred years ago or anything--he was taking care of me. 

And then, we went to the hospital where that red haired 
lady sat with me while they gave me tests--and she 
brought me chocolate chip cookies and juice and told me 
my mommy is okay and then, she had to go on account of 
she had to go back and take a peek in at mommy, who also 
went to get some tests. And then me and the not-Daddy 
man got to fly in a plane."

"And then we finally got to see each other again, huh, 
Belle?" David managed to interrupt Belle's tale. "I 
missed you so much, honey."

"I missed you too, daddy. But I have a question for 
you."

"Shoot."

"If that other man--who is not my daddy--is not my real 
daddy, how come he was holding onto my hand so tight and 
his eyes were kinda wet when he said goodbye to us?"

David smiled. He remembered the exchange and felt a stab 
of pain for the agent who obviously had been smitten 
with his little girl. He could still see Mulder as he 
placed his hand on Belle's shoulder and gave her a 
gentle push in his own direction. And she was right. His 
eyes had a telltale sheen to them. 

"I think, Belle, it just hurts whenever someone has to 
say goodbye to a sweet girl like you."
 
"Oh. Okay," she said, satisfied with his answer. "Want 
to play dollies?"

The end.