A/N: This is a four-month late birthday request from my beta Claire aka guitar73girl, who waited patiently for me to finish Improbable Truth. Happy Birthday, Claire :)

A/N2: Since this IS a birthday present, I didn't ask her to beta it first, so all mistakes are mine.

A/N3: This is a fill-in-the-blanks for Lupo and Connie's weekend at the end of The Mafia Connection. Timeline coincides with Belonging and Q and A and B and E.

Lupo POV

"Don't you think?"

I heard the question, but I paused for a moment as I tried to piece together what it pertained to.

What do I think about what?

"Lupo?"

I pulled the shower curtain back so that I could look at my wife as she stood at the bathroom sink. She was watching me expectantly, with a half-smile on her face, and I figured that she knows I'm clueless.

Because my mind was wandering.

Again.

I don't know why I can't stop thinking Mulder.

He's a grown man.

Sort of.

"He's fine," Connie said to me for at least the twentieth time since last night.

"Then why hasn't he called me back? Or texted?"

Because it's Saturday morning, and he should've gotten to Boston around eight last night.

I left a voicemail and sent him a text, but he hasn't responded to either.

"You really want me to tell you why he hasn't bothered to check his cell phone?" she asked as she set down her hairbrush and walked over to the shower. "Or would you rather I show you?"

Before I could answer, my phone started buzzing.

And I know…I'm crazy.

Because I've got my drop-dead gorgeous wife standing in front of me in only a towel, offering to join me in the shower and do God knows what to me and yet at the sound of my phone, my gaze shifted towards the counter where it's sitting.

"Or I could check to see if that's a text from Mulder," she said as she turned around.

"Connie…"

But I trailed off without saying anything more because she'd already picked up my phone to look at the message.

"Oh, hey, look," she said with a grin. "It says Dear Dad…"

"Ha ha. So he's alright?"

She read me the text for real, and I let out a relieved breath.

"Tomorrow, huh?"

If he's staying an extra day, then she must have invited him.

Which means he's holding his own, right? Because I've been worried that I sent him off like a lamb to slaughter. I mean, she's a thirty year old woman. She could easily chew him up and spit him out. Because he's so…inexperienced. And nice.

It's funny, when you think about it. I mean, he's a genius with a computer. He always covers his tracks, always considers every possible outcome before executing a command, always knows exactly what to expect.

But in real life he's seriously lacking.

And I completely blame his parents for his stunted socialization skills.

What kind of parent doesn't prepare their child for the real world? What kind of parent is content to let a child waste his life away in a basement cave?

A parent who's lost a child, I reminded myself.

Because were Mulder's parents like that before his brother died? I'm not sure.

But afterwards, I guess his mother was determined to keep her remaining child safe from harm.

But in the process, she managed to stall his maturity.

Although maybe not, I decided.

Or at least, maybe not as much as I once thought.

Because Jeremy seems to like him a lot. And true, he's younger, but not by much, and the two of them have really hit it off. Not only that, but he's won over everyone in our little group, and not just because of his amazing skill on a computer, but because of his affable personality and his genuine desire to do the right thing.

And as much as he worried about what Cecilia would think of him once she learned about his lack of experience, he obviously worried for nothing.

Because she asked him to stay.

And he must be having a good enough time to want to stay.

Although who am I kidding?

He's having sex.

Of course he's having a good time.

I let my eyes walk over Connie as she stood watching me, gauging my reaction.

She knows I've been preoccupied with thoughts of Mulder and she's been so patient with me. I think she's been a little caught up with worrying about him, too.

And as much as B likes to tease me, he's kind of right in the fact that I do almost think about Mulder like a kid. I mean, like my kid.

Because I know he looks up to me and I feel a sense of responsibility when it comes to teaching him how to not just survive but thrive on his own.

And I think Connie feels the same way.

After all, she didn't shy away from the sex talk or get irritated when I wanted to call him last night or complain at all about the number of nights he slept on our couch, even though we're newlyweds.

But Mulder's fine.

And he's coming home tomorrow.

Which means I can stop worrying.

"So…that's a good thing, right? That he's staying another night?" I asked for confirmation.

"It's very good," she answered as she set my phone back on the counter. "And now that you know he's okay…"

I whipped the curtain back all the way and said, "Get in here."

Connie POV

I cleaned for two hours, and then I decided that was long enough.

I'd sent Lupo out so that he could relax and get some fresh air because even after our shower escapade, he was still a little introspective and then his brooding got me thinking about…things, so then I was on edge, too.

So he and Otto left the apartment, and since I knew there was no way in hell Mike Cutter would be setting foot in the office today, I decided that I wasn't going to go in either.

Which left me with housework to occupy my mind.

After two hours' worth, the floors were spotless, the wood glowing, and there wasn't a dirty dish or item of clothing to be found.

I changed into a clean shirt, since I'd worked up a bit of a sweat, and then pulled on my sneakers and left the apartment.

I took my time walking to the park while random thoughts rolled through my mind.

I thought about Mike and Jenn.

She was funny last night, telling us about the things she and Mike have been doing lately. She has me looking at my boss in a new light. I mean, I've always thought he was attractive and charismatic so it doesn't surprise me that he managed to land someone great like Jennifer, but I never considered the sexual side of him.

Not really, anyway.

And I don't mean that I'm thinking about him specifically like that now, either.

I'm just saying…I'm glad there is a sexual side to him, something to help balance out the intensity of the job. Because he's a really nice guy and I want him to be happy, just like me.

And then I thought about Lauren and Bernard.

I can't believe they got married and yet at the same time, I can understand the urge to make it permanent. I rushed Lupo into stepping up our wedding by four months, just because I was anxious to commit.

Although unlike Lauren, I don't have any in-laws to contend with. Lupo's dad has been out of the picture for more than twenty-five years, since only two years before his mother died. And his only living sibling has apparently decided that her life is better without him in it.

Stupid woman.

I wonder how Lauren's faring in Los Angeles with Bernard's mother.

Better than she'll do with her own mother, I'm sure.

That woman sounds like a first-class bitch. I'm not sure how Lauren turned out to be such a genuinely nice person. That's not a nurture versus nature argument, but rather a completely random outcome argument because she got the short end of the stick in both nature and nurture.

Although maybe she used her parents as an example of how not to act. I think that's what Mike Logan did, too. And Bobby.

What is it with parents being so…self-centered and loathsome and disinterested?

Even Mulder's parents…I don't think they're bad in the sense that they were ever abusive or mean to him, but how can they be okay with him spending his life in the basement?

Because I'm pretty sure he'd still be there today, if it weren't for Lupo.

And now look at him, I thought with a smile.

He's up in Boston, staying with a girl…

Lupo's been worried to death about him. He's afraid Cecilia's going to break his heart.

"He's so trusting," he explained last night, once we were in bed. "What if she just thinks he's a stud and wants to go three rounds with him in the sack and then cut him loose?"

"I bet that happened to you all the time," I said as I lightly scraped my nails across his chest. "And you lived to tell the tale. It's part of the growing process."

"I know, but…I just don't want to see him hurt. He's doing so great, coming out of his shell, and I'd hate for him to have a setback."

Personally, I think the weekend will be a success for Mulder either way because he's learning how to live.

It took me about fifteen minutes to get to the park, and once I was there, I didn't have to look very hard for my husband.

I could hear the thumping of a basketball on pavement and I spotted Otto, tied to a nearby park bench, happily chewing on a bone.

Lupo can't resist a good pickup game and I'm glad he found one because that's something that should definitely help him relax and stop thinking about Mulder.

I sat down on the bench and Otto immediately ditched the bone and hopped up to sit next to me as I asked him, "So how's he doing?"

Of course, the only response I got was a soulful look and the shameless nudging of his nose under my hand, so I rubbed his ears as I sat back to check out the game.

And I have to say it.

The second I looked at Lupo – I mean looked for more than just the moment needed for confirmation that he was here - my heart skipped a beat.

Because oh my God is he ever gorgeous.

He'd pulled off his shirt in deference to the midday heat and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, which accented the extremely well-defined muscles in his back and chest.

His black gym shorts were low on his hips, showing just a tiny bit of the top edge of his boxer briefs. Just enough to make me want to tug on those shorts so that I could see the rest of what's underneath.

His hair was damp, which caused curls to crop up everywhere, and as he stood at half court, dribbling the ball while his teammates worked to get open, he looked so commanding and confident and…and…unbelievably sexy.

"I shouldn't have spent so much time cleaning," I murmured to Otto. "Not when Daddy's out here looking like a Greek God."

And then I noticed who else was on the court.

And yeah, maybe I should've noticed sooner, but I was a little busy staring at my husband.

Anyway, his teammates were kids. Fourteen, fifteen years old maybe. There was another older guy on the other team, but for the most part, it looked like Lupo had jumped into a pickup game of junior varsity players.

"Hey, Julian, you want to cut to the inside when he overplays you like that," I heard him say, pointing with one hand while still dribbling with the other.

The boy nodded at him and then made his move, and Lupo tossed him the ball.

"That's it! Nice move," Lupo said, grinning broadly as the boy made the shot.

Watching this exchange made me more sure than ever about what's been on my mind.

Lupo and I really need to talk.

About more than Mulder.

Lupo POV

I was halfway through drawing up an impromptu play for my teammates when I realized that I'd completely lost their attention. It was almost humorous, the way their focus shifted like wildfire, first one then the next then the next.

When all four of my teammates were staring across the court, I said, "Hey, guys…are we playing basketball or…"

But I trailed off because as I said the words, I turned to see what they were looking at.

My wife.

Dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, she was sitting on the bench next to the court, her long, tan legs crossed in front of her. Otto was sprawled out next to her with his chin in her lap.

Her sunglasses were on top of her head, holding some of her hair back from her face. She's been trying to let it grow out lately and I know it's driving her crazy, but I love it.

Of course, she could be bald and I'd still think she's the most beautiful woman in the world.

"That is one lucky dog," one of the kids said in wonder, referring to the location of Otto's head.

"Hey, isn't that your dog, Lupo?" Julian asked me while the other boys started up a bevy of clichéd remarks about what they'd like to do to Connie.

"Uh huh," I said as I snapped my fingers to regain their attention. "And that's my wife, so can you keep your adolescent fantasies to yourselves?"

"Dude, are you serious?" another boy asked me, one who had the good sense to look embarrassed about his comments.

"Yeah," I said with a grin as I playfully ran my hand over his head. "So get your minds out of the gutter and take five."

"What are you gonna do in five minutes?" Julian teased as I walked away.

I waved my hand over my head without looking back as I trotted towards Connie.

I can't fault them for their juvenile hormone-driven thoughts. They're good kids and harmless enough. And if I'd come across a woman like Connie when I was fifteen, I would've been saying the same things.

"How long have you been sitting here?" I asked her as I scooted Otto out of the way so I could sit next to her.

"Not nearly long enough," she replied with a smile. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you any water."

"I don't need water when I've got you."

She laughed lightly and nudged me with her shoulder as she said, "I don't know how much good I'll be for rehydration."

"You're good for everything," I countered.

"You're having fun," she stated, obviously pleased by the idea that I'm relaxing.

"You mean did I quit thinking about Mulder for a little while? Yeah. And I'm sorry I was being so obsessive."

"Don't be sorry. You care about him. It's understandable," she said. "So who're the kids?"

"Rising sophomores at FPA, looking to make varsity."

"You've played with them before?"

"Last summer," he answered. "I haven't had much time for basketball lately, but they seem to like when I jump in."

"Because you teach them," she said reasonably. "Who's the other guy?"

"The dad of one of the kids."

"Hey, Lupo! Are you quittin' on us?" one of the boys shouted, and then another boy made a comment that was too quiet for us to hear and suddenly all of them were laughing.

Connie gave me an inquisitive look and I explained, "They think you're hot. Smart kids, huh?"

"Smart that they want you to play with them," she countered. "So you'd better get out there."

"I can be done," I offered. "We can go home so that I can clean up and then we'll go somewhere fun."

"Or…I can sit here and watch the best looking man in New York play basketball."

"Matt Damon's here?" I joked as I looked around the vicinity.

"Ha ha," she retorted. "He's got nothing on you, Lupo. So go out there and show me your moves."

"Or I could show you my moves right here," I suggested playfully as I brought my lips near hers.

I paused when there wasn't much more than an inch between us, waiting to see what she'd say.

"Sure. Show me your moves," she said as a smile played on her lips.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Just remember that we have an audience. I'm not sure their parents will appreciate you teaching them more than basketball."

"Always the voice of reason," I grumbled good-naturedly.

I kissed her, but kept it brief and mostly innocent.

Of course, I still heard a chorus of whistles and comments as I got up from the bench and made my way back to the court.

Connie POV

Lupo and I stayed in the park for the better part of the afternoon.

At one point, I walked to a market down the block and bought enough bottled water to go around, but most of the time, I just sat and watched.

"You're really good," I commented as we made the walk back home.

"Tell B that, will you? He still thinks he can take me."

"Actually, I meant you're good with the kids," I clarified. "But yeah, I'll make sure Bernard knows he's no match for you."

"So what do you want to do tonight?" he asked me as he took hold of my hand.

"Dinner out. Someplace quiet, just the two of us," I suggested.

"Is everything okay?" he asked me curiously. "You seem…I don't know. Lost in thought."

"I've got something I want to discuss with you," I admitted. At his worried look, I quickly added, "Nothing bad, I promise."

He nodded and squeezed my hand lightly and then we continued our walk in comfortable silence.

And I love that he trusts me.

I mean, most men would've pushed the issue, needing instant answers.

But not Lupo.

He'll wait until we're out and even then, he'll let me do it at my pace.

We went home and got cleaned up to go out. And it was nice. Just getting ready, I mean. Lupo turned the radio on to a channel playing power ballads and I found myself humming along with the music. He shaved while I took a shower and then he got in the shower while I put on my make-up.

An hour after we got home, we were ready to leave again, only this time he smelled of Boss No. 6 instead of sweat, and his black gym shorts were replaced by khaki Dockers and a slate blue polo.

I'm not sure which way I like better. I don't think it matters that I can't decide. I love him every which way.

"This was a great idea," he said as he locked up the door behind us.

"It is, isn't it? We haven't had very many actual dates."

"I need to work on that," he replied, settling his arm around my shoulders. His tone was low and intimate and his nearness combined with the heady scent of him caused a wave of lust to roll through me.

"See, this is why we don't go on dates."

"Why?"

"Because look at you," I responded rationally. "Why would I want to go out in public, where I have to keep my hands to myself, when we can stay in the apartment and I can touch you all I want?"

His steps faltered as he glanced down at me with a half-smile on his face and said, "You know, we can go back in if you want…"

"I want," I said empathically. "But I also want to go out. So how about we see how much we can get each other worked up and then we'll come back here and spend the rest of the night reaping the benefits?"

"I love the way your mind works."

Forty-five minutes later, we were seated in a small corner booth in Felidia. The lighting was dim, there was classical music filtering through the room, and my hand was covered by the warmth of Lupo's hand.

And I suddenly felt nervous.

I watched him subtly as he ordered our drinks. Normally, wine would be the drink of preference in a place like this, but I don't drink wine. Not since I clocked Lee Gingrich in the side of head with a bottle of white.

Silly, maybe, for me to avoid wine altogether simply because of one incident, but I can't help it.

I just flat-out have no interest whatsoever in drinking wine.

But Lupo knows that.

Which is why he ordered me a Cosmopolitan and himself a beer.

"Fitting, isn't it?" he said with that cute, little-boy smile of his.

"What's that?"

"You, drinking something sophisticated and cultured - something that's name literally means worldly – while I'm drinking something probably brewed in an old guy's basement."

I laughed lightly at his odd analogy and said, "You know they don't make Sam Adams in anyone's basement."

"You know what I'm saying."

"That I'm refined and you're uncivilized? Because I can promise you, there was nothing civilized about the way I tossed back shots of Patron last night."

"Ah, right…girls night," he replied with a grin as the waiter brought our drinks. I waited for him to leave and then I picked up my glass and offered it to Lupo.

"You should try it. You might like it."

He held my gaze for a moment and then he purposefully dropped his eyes, letting them walk over me. He took his time bringing his eyes back to mine before saying, "Or I'll wait until later, when I can taste all the sophisticated and worldly I want."

I'm telling you, the man can make me sweat without even touching me.

He flashed me a confident smile, apparently pleased that his remark had its desired effect.

"I'm going to hold you to that," I responded.

"Good," he challenged, and the longer I looked at him the more I wanted to go back home, where I could get him alone.

I can't help it. He just has that effect on me.

But I also want to have this conversation, and I know that if we go home, I'll start tearing his clothes off of him and we'll go for hours without any talking at all.

Or at least, not talking about what's been on my mind.

So instead of torturing myself with lascivious thoughts, I decided to jump right in.

"I've been thinking," I began.

And then for some reason, I got tongue-tied.

It's not like me, I know. I talk for a living.

But what if he doesn't feel the same way?

It's probably something we should've discussed sooner, but honestly, I had no idea that I'd feel like I do.

"Connie," he prompted gently, and I could hear the worry in his voice.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "It just occurred to me that this is something we should've talked about a long time ago. Or at least a few weeks ago."

"Oh," he replied as he sat back in his chair, and the expression on his face was inscrutable.

I think he knows where I'm going, but I have no idea as to his response.

"So, um…"

"Are we talking about having kids?" he asked.

So he definitely knows where I'm going.

I should've known. He's a pretty damn good detective.

"Yes. I've been thinking a lot about it lately, and with everything that's happened with Mulder, and it's not really something I ever wanted before, but…I think I do now. I think that…I'd like us to have a baby."

Lupo POV

Sunday morning, I woke up early.

Or maybe I never really went to sleep.

Because I can't stop my mind.

And it's not on Mulder, like it was last night.

Because he's fine.

No, it's been on the possibility of a little dark-haired boy who wants me to teach him how to make a jump shot.

Or a little girl with Connie's eyes, wanting me to sit on a tiny pink chair and share a cup of tea.

And maybe it's crazy, I don't know, but the idea excites me more than I ever imagined.

Because I've been thinking about it lately, too.

Just like Connie.

I guess having Mulder around really has made us feel like parents.

I'm glad she was the one to bring it up because it'll be a lot harder on her. Not just the pregnancy itself, but scaling back her hours, taking maternity leave…as much as people always say the husband and wife do it together, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that it's still the wife – the mom – who does the majority of the work, who makes more of the sacrifices.

So we talked through a lot of the details last night over dinner.

And then we came home and thoroughly ravaged each other.

And then we got into bed and talked some more.

"We can find a nanny," she said reasonably. "I mean, after I take off for a few months. I can still work. But maybe I can do more from home, like the after-hours paperwork."

"And I don't have to volunteer for every case that comes down the pike," I added. "I work a lot because that's what our life is now, but it doesn't mean I have to be gone as much as I am."

"I know," she said with a sweet smile as she ran her hand over my chest. "And Lord knows we'll have a huge support system. Alex and Bobby, Mike and Carolyn, Lauren and Bernard…"

"Ross and Liz," I continued. "Mary and John…"

"Mike and Jenn," she finished. "Does that about cover it?"

"And Mulder."

She laughed and asked, "Can you imagine? Our child will be able to write code before she hits kindergarten."

I chuckled along with her for a moment and then I hugged her to me as I was suddenly flooded with a feeling of fear and excitement.

"So we're really doing this?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper.

"Yeah," she said with contentment. "We're really doing it."

I held her in my arms long past the time that she drifted off to sleep, and I'll admit it.

The fear started to override the excitement.

What if I screw this child up?

What if I'm not any better at being a dad than my father was?

What if, in a couple of years, I decide that having kids was a really bad idea?

Of course, my fears were interspersed with seeing them in my mind's eye.

Our kids.

They'll be beautiful, of course. How could Connie possibly have anything other than an exceptional looking child?

And smart because she's so intelligent, graduated in the top five percent at Swarthmore.

And driven because law school isn't easy and neither is working in the DA's office.

What the hell am I bringing to the gene pool?

A predilection for smoking pot at an early age, my mind supplied.

And so it went.

All night long.

Connie stirred when the light started filtering in through the blinds and she turned on her side, wrapping one arm around me as she pressed her body against mine.

"Are you awake?" Connie said in a sleepy-sexy voice.

"Uh huh," I hummed, although I let my eyes fall closed as she slid her leg over mine and began tracing her fingers over my skin.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No," I said decisively.

Just because I'm afraid doesn't mean it's not a good idea.

Because the idea of having a family…of passing along my experiences to our offspring…I don't know, it just really appeals to me.

"Good," she answered as she moved again so that she was completely on top of me. I opened my eyes and found her watching me and I swear I've never seen her more beautiful than right this minute. "So we are really doing it. Meaning…starting now?"

Then she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the box of condoms.

"Yes?" she asked for confirmation as she sat poised, ready to toss the box in the trash.

"Absolutely."

She let loose and the condoms sailed across the room before dropping perfectly into the trash can.

"Maybe you should be the one to teach our son about a jump shot," I teased, impressed by her accuracy.

She quirked her eyebrow at me inquisitively and I shrugged and said, "Never mind. I was just…thinking about things last night."

She leaned down and kissed me, slowly…stirringly, and then she sat back and I put my hands on her hips, looking forward to the moment of really feeling her while we make love.

Because we've never done this before.

Without the condom, I mean.

As spontaneous as we are, we've still always been really careful.

In my younger days, I used to carry around a condom in my wallet on the hope that I might be able to put it to use at some point.

Since Connie, I've made it part of my morning routine – to restock my wallet with three condoms.

She flashed me a smile and then she shifted in just the right way so that she was exactly where I wanted her and then she slowly took me in completely and I couldn't stop from groaning at the amazing sensation.

And it only got better from there.

If we do actually conceive during this incredible encounter in the early morning hours, it's something I'll most definitely remember for the rest of my life.

Honestly, I'll remember it either way.

Afterward, I was finally ready to go to sleep, and she curled up next to me as she teased, "Such a cliché."

"You're going back to sleep, too," I pointed out.

"Maybe."

The next thing I heard was the ringing phone.

"Don't get it," I mumbled, but then I realized that Connie was already up, and the phone had stopped ringing.

I heard her voice instead.

"Are you kidding me?" she shouted. "When?"

At her distraught tone, I was up and out of the bed, pulling on a pair of gym shorts as I left the bedroom.

"I can't believe this," she was saying. "How? Schmenke?"

Ah, Lauren's case.

I wonder what that weasel lawyer is up to now. He's supposed to be in jail, but I wouldn't put it past him to have figured out a way to slither out.

I found Connie in the kitchen, and Otto was standing next to her at attention, clearly troubled by Mama's unease.

She turned around, running her hand through her hair as she continued listening to the caller and then she said, "Yeah, I know. I appreciate the courtesy. Keep me posted, okay?"

"What is it?" I asked when she hung up.

"That was a contact of mine at Frackville. Flowers escaped."

"You need to call Lauren."

"I know," she said on a frustrated sigh. "But she's essentially on her honeymoon. How am I supposed to tell her this?"

"She's strong," I said assuredly, even though I feel bad about it, too. "And she's got B with her. She needs to know."

"Right. I know you're right," she said as she dialed Lauren's number. She listened for a moment and then left a message.

"Try B," I encouraged. "You know they're together."

He didn't answer either, so she tried Lauren once more and then she called Mike Cutter. His phone went to voicemail, too.

"Where the hell is everybody?" she said irritably as she tossed her phone down on the counter. "And more importantly, where is Flowers and what's he going to do next?"

"I don't know," I said soothingly as I slipped my arms around her. "But we'll find him. And we'll make sure he doesn't hurt Lauren again."

I hugged her to me in an effort to ease her distress and as I held her, my mind was already working on how best to track down Flowers. Does he have a place in town? Does Schmenke? Would he come straight back to the city? How would he get here when every transit cop between here and Frackville is going to be looking for him?

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," she said softly, her cheek still on my shoulder.

"Do what?"

"Bring a baby into a world like this. A world where men like Flowers can do the things he's done, can be ready to get out of prison after less than ten years, and then manage to escape. Where's the justice in that?"

And it's strange, but in spite of my overnight fears and apprehension, now I'm suddenly more confident than ever.

I think maybe it's knowing that she has doubts, too…that it's okay to have doubts because the decision to have a child is tremendous and scary and…exhilarating.

And we'll do this just like we do everything else.

Together.

"Flowers will get his," I said confidently. "I can promise you that."

"Uh huh," she mumbled. "But what if someone like him crosses paths with our daughter?"

I had to force myself not to tense up at the thought, but I can't blame her for posing the question.

"Then we'll be there for her. We'll help her through it, giving her all the love and support she needs," I answered.

She nodded against me and squeezed me a little tighter.

"And then I'll hunt the guy down and kill him," I continued. "And you'll figure out a way to get me acquitted. There's your justice."

She pulled back and gave me a small smile.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I guess I panicked. I mean, Lauren's our friend and I feel like I've let her down. And she's a grown woman who doesn't look up to me for guidance. I started thinking about what'll happen when I let our child down…"

"You won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you. You're going to be a great mom."

She hugged me again and then said, "Great time for me to have second thoughts, huh? I mean, after earlier…"

"What are the odds it worked the first time? If you want to reconsider…"

"No. I was just…no," she said emphatically.

"Good. Okay, why don't you try Lauren again?"

She wasn't able to get through to her, but in between attempts, Cutter called back and she filled him in on the news.

"Now what?" she asked after talking to him.

"You want me to make some calls, make sure the Pennsylvania police are doing everything they can?"

"Yes," she said. "And then…"

But before she could finish, my cell phone started ringing. I'd left it in the other room, so I trotted back to the bedroom and got it off the nightstand.

"It's Mulder!" I called out to her just before answering the phone. "How's Boston?"

"Um…is this…Lupo?"

It wasn't Mulder on the phone.

It was a woman.

Using his cell.

Which means….

"Yes. What's wrong?" I asked her, instantly on alert.

"I know you're in New York and that some of your other friends were here in Boston, but I think they're already on their way back home and I wasn't sure who else to call because Mulder always talks about you, so I thought I should start with you, and…"

"Take a breath," I interrupted. "Cecilia, right?"

"Yes, I'm…it's…see, we were looking stuff up last night, trying to find my father, and we found something, something sketchy and Mulder called another guy…Bobby, I think, and he said to sit tight and not do anything about it yet and that once they got back to work, they'd look into it more extensively for me, but then Mulder said he wanted to check out this one thing and…"

"Cecilia, I really need you to breathe, okay?" I said firmly, because the girl was about five seconds away from a complete meltdown.

Of course, I'm not doing much better because she's obviously about to share some bad news.

About Mulder.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, and now it sounds like she's about to cry. "Um…the thing is...I don't know where Mulder is."

The End (until the sequel)