Gabriel
Chapter Seventeen


The Rocky Mountains
September 24, 2001
1:50 a.m.


"He's got the cross," Julia said again, this
time with more anguish than he'd ever seen
before on her face.

"That means nothing," he insisted, in a much
louder voice than he wanted.  "It's just a piece
of jewelry, you hear me?"  God, he was getting
caught up in her panic.  Quickly, he toned it
down.  "Anyone could have something like that."

"But I know him."

In spite of what she whispered, it was obvious
she didn't *want* to know this husband of hers. 
Hell, he thought - who *did* want to know this
usurper?  If not for the fact that this was
another strategic move on the part of his
father, he'd bundle her up this minute and steal
away.  But he knew they wouldn't make it far;
no, when they left, they had to be free of the
web of treachery forever.  He'd make sure the
old man couldn't follow, couldn't call her this
time.

As for the cross?  It would take more time and
effort to explain that than he had to spare.  So
instead, he offered a stern, "Just because he
has a cross, it doesn't mean he's your husband."

"I understand about the cross, Gabriel.  Really,
I do.  But you're not listening to me."  Sad
tears wound down her cheeks as she looked up at
Gabriel.  "I *know* him."

The breath left his lungs in an instant.  "He's
familiar to you?"  If he was one of the many
'associates' his father had employed over the
years, it would make sense.  One face jumped out
at him immediately - Jeffrey Spender.  He was
believed dead, but they'd never found a body. 
God, he wished he'd gotten a better look at the
man on the patio.

"One look and I knew," she answered.  "Just the
sight of him made me feel things I can't
explain.  I don't know if it was love or hate...
it unsettled me just the same."

The myriad of emotions that clouded her face
told him just how much this unexpected
development had disrupted her existence.  Guilt
warred with defiance in the swimming blue eyes; 
guilt because she'd let herself become intimate
with him, defiance because she still embraced
their union, despite this revelation.

"You've done nothing to be ashamed of," he said,
punctuating the sure statement with a small
shake as his fingers clenched around her arms. 
"*We* did nothing wrong."

"Gabriel, I could never regret that," she
replied, her small smile like a beacon, pulling
him in with warmth.  As quickly as it came,
however, it faded.  "I'm just sorry I had to
draw you into this mess."

His hands moved to cup her face.  "Julia, I'm
right where I want to be.  You believe that,
don't you?"

Her lips trembled over her shaky sigh.  "I
suppose if you weren't, you'd be long gone by
now, wouldn't you?"

Smiling, he answered, "Sc - sweetheart, if it
weren't for you -" He broke off, biting his lip
over the sentiment that threatened to gush from
him.  He'd have been dead many times over if not
for her, and he ached to tell her so.  "I'd
still be hanging from that tree, probably some
bear's feast."  He chuckled, trying to lighten
the suddenly somber mood, brushing his cool
fingers over her cheeks.  "A little marinade and
I can be as tender as the next guy."

She shuddered, apparently in an attempt to shake
off her distress, curling into him once again. 
"Be serious."

"I am serious.  You don't think I'm tender?"

Her arms tightened and her voice lowered,
muffled against his shirt.  "Sometimes I wish
you weren't."

He brought his lips close to her ear, confused
by her admission.  "What?"

She pulled away, challenging him with her eyes. 
"You heard me.  You treat me like I'm a fragile
piece of glass.  I won't break, Gabriel."

Hot anger bubbled up in him; yes, she was the
most resilient person he'd ever known.  He'd
never have been able to do all she did in the
past year.  But circumstances demanded that he
take the lead this time, and if it meant keeping
her in the dark, forcing her to take it easy,
then so be it.

"You're pregnant, God damn it," he growled.

"That doesn't mean I can't take care of myself,"
she shot back, reacting to his simmering anger
with some of her own.  "I'm fine."

The dark cabin swirled around him, the walls
transforming in his peripheral vision to the
bright corridor outside Skinner's office.  The
stark image, her concerned, sad face, the way
she'd hugged him and given him the cross - God,
it was too much.  The stress of the past months
burst into flame at the spark of those hated
words and he let her go, distress choking his
voice as he took a stumbling step back, hunched
over slightly with the pain of remembrance.  "I
can't risk... losing you again."

She stilled and he held his breath as she looked
up, mouth open and eyes wide. "Gabriel?"

Damn.  He was such a fool.  Quickly, he moved
ahead.  They needed to tread safer ground.  It
wasn't exactly the safest, but it was the most
urgent.  He avoided her searching gaze as he
cleared his throat, asking, "Did you speak to
him?  This 'husband' of yours?"

"No, not yet.  But I saw him... when I left my
room to see Matthew, he was speaking to Mr.
Spencer in the hall.  Gabriel -"

"What did he look like?"

She sighed, exasperation in the huff of breath. 
"Dark.  Looked at me like he could see through
me."  Her hand touched his arm.  "Gabriel, talk
to me."

"I am talking to you."  He spared a glance at
her, his arm tensing under her fingers.

"No you're not."  Walking away, she stood in the
kitchen with arms crossed and her ire up.  "You
said 'again' - tell me what that means."

"God damn it, Julia," he growled, anger at his
stupid mistake making him turn away.  "It was
just a -"

"A what?" she interrupted.  "A slip-up?  Like
the way you forgot to mention I had a husband?"

Shit.  He knew better than this.  He knew not to
pursue the conversation, especially with her
baiting questions sitting between them like a
bamboo-covered tiger trap.  But no... he put one
imaginary paw on the flimsy thing and just had
to test it, like always.

"You don't have a husband.  There.  Are you
satisfied?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw her fling her
cloak to the kitchen table in a fit of fury.
Suddenly, she was standing before him, hands on
hips.  "How do *you* know I don't have a
husband?  Tell me.  Explain this away."

He remained silent, clenching his jaw at her
prodding.

"It's not that you can't," she continued, "it's
that you won't.  You sit here, content with
fucking me -"

"Julia!"

But she didn't stop at his gasp of her name. 
"Happy because you have me back.  Yes, I said
*back*.  Just like you said *again*.  How do you
think that makes me feel, Gabriel?"

"Julia, I know you're confused..."

"Confusion?  You don't know the meaning of the
word," she almost sneered, and he felt like any
second he was going to start retreating like a
slapped child.  "Who's Scully?"

"Julia..."

"Who the *hell* is Scully?"

The trap collapsed beneath his feet.  "She's
*you*, God damn it!"  He sat in the rocker,
holding his head in his hands, his shout echoing
in the cabin, numb with release.

But he only allowed himself a second of pause;
he lifted his eyes to her, searching for any
sign of trauma.  She stood there, eyes closed,
swaying a bit, her face calm.  "Julia?" 
Quickly, he traded places with her, standing to
sit her in the rocker, warming her cold hands
between his as he knelt before her, anger mixed
with worry in his plea.  "Julia, are you okay? 
Answer me, dammit!"

He seethed with frustration; how the hell had
they gone from tender relief to this in under a
minute?  It made sense that she'd eventually
demand answers, but he hadn't been prepared to
square off with her just yet.  Damn it, he
wanted to get them all safely off the mountain
before dealing with her memories.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she slowly
opened her eyes.  Bringing a hand up to his
cheek, she whispered, "The baby?  Is it yours?"

For a brief moment, he let himself bask in the
hope shining from her glistening eyes.  With all
the lies he'd had to live these past few days,
one more really shouldn't matter.  But he was
unable to give it voice, lowering his head to
her lap.  So simple, actually.  Yes or no.  How
could he choose when even *he* wasn't sure?

Instead, he rubbed his nose into the soft black
material that draped her thighs, nudging the
crown of his head into the mound of contention,
sneaking his hands around her hips.  "God, I
hope so," he whispered fervently, clutching at
her like a drowning man.

He felt her stiffen, reading everything into
those few words, the good along with the bad. 
Under her hands, his back heaved with the
onslaught of emotion, and she melted over him,
her lips touching his curls.  "Shh... it's
okay."

He cried because he had her back, when he once
thought he'd never see her again.  Cried for all
the time they'd lost in search of one another,
even when they occupied the same office.  Cried
because things had been done to them both that
no human being should ever have to live through. 
Soft, silent tears that bled from him to her,
dampening the linen that covered her lap.  For
long, relieved seconds, she let him release his
fears and nightmares unto her, whispering
soothing words as she stroked his hair, her
kisses light and undemanding above his ear.

"Don't ask me anything more, Julia," he begged,
his voice muffled, his hands clutching at her
like she would disappear should he lift his
head.  "Please don't.  I can't... can't take the
chance."

"It's okay, I know," she said.  Gently, she
wrapped her fingers around his face, making him
look up at her urging.

Her smile was wondrous but subdued, her eyes
shining.  With slow, calming movements, she
wiped his face.  "You've told me everything I
need to know.  Thank you."  Her lips touched his
brow and they remained, open and soft, her
breath cooling his panic.

Okay.  She was okay.  No tremors, no shock to
her system, no eye-rolling, dead faint.  His
laugh was shaky, his eyes closed as he said, "Of
course you realize you're stuck with me now."

Julia let her lips skim over his temple. 
"Something tells me I've been stuck with you for
quite a while, Gabriel."

This time, his laughter was genuine and light
with relief.  A memory of her, fresh-faced
amidst the mold and dimness of the basement,
fielding his smart-ass attitude with snappy
logic made him remark, "Let's just say you
ticked off the wrong people a long, long time
ago."

Her mouth moved closer to his.  "And they gave
me you?"

All this time, he'd thought of himself on the
receiving end of that transaction; she'd been
given to him.  Slowly, he'd retooled his
thinking.  From the frustrated edge of her
unyielding professionalism, to the truce of
swapping theory, to the embrace of minds
opposite in reasoning, but similar in the quest
for truth... yes, he'd abandoned his resistance
to her long ago.

And he knew now that she'd not been given to
him.  He'd been entrusted in *her* care,
unbeknownst to those who'd orchestrated their
union.

"Yes," he breathed, lifting his chin to complete
the pact, his lips caressing hers.  "And if you
don't mind the re-gifting, you can have me
again.  You know, like the fruitcake no one
wants at Christmas."

He felt her belly shake with little chuckles. 
"Gabriel," she murmured, returning his light
kisses, "one thing you're *not* is a fruitcake."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'd have to agree -
the man's more of a pie... key lime, I think. 
Definitely an acquired taste."

Shit.  Gabriel let Julia go and stood up,
blushing like he'd been caught necking behind
the school gym.  He'd forgotten all about
Frohike.

"Um..." He wiped his hands on his jeans, looking
from Frohike to Julia, who remained in the
rocker in a similar state of embarrassment. 
"Julia, this is the Colonel."  How much had his
friend heard?  He supposed it didn't really
matter, because Frohike already knew all about
her memory loss, especially what happened when
she went too far.

From the shadows by the almost-dead fire, Julia
stood and held out her hand.  "Nice to meet you
finally," she said with a smile.

As she walked closer, Frohike's smile faltered a
bit, his eyes drifting to the swell of her body
before rocketing up to meet Gabriel's.  He
recovered quickly, however, extending his hand. 
"The pleasure is mine, dear lady," he purred,
bringing her hand up.

Gabriel could have laughed at the little man's
gallantry, in the way he touched his lips to the
back of Julia's hand.  But he didn't; in fact,
the longer it went, the more uncomfortable he
became, finally stepping in when he saw her face
begin to melt under Frohike's attentive charm.

"That's enough of that," he stated, taking her
hand away from Frohike to tuck it in his.  "The
Colonel's here to help us get out, Julia."

Frohike stood to his full height, tucking his
thumbs into the belt of his fatigues, his smile
beaming.  "At your service, Miss," he said.

Julia gave Gabriel a look, wriggling her fingers
in his tight hold until he lessened his grip. 
She smiled in return as she addressed their
guest.  "Colonel?  Is there something else I can
call you?  Something not quite so... formal?"

Before Gabriel could jump in, Frohike piped up,
"Melvin.  Call me Melvin."

Gabriel gulped, feeling her nails dig into the
back of his hand as their playful 'pretend'
foreplay of hours ago came to mind.  "Melvin,"
she purred, "you wouldn't happen to know a Max? 
Or a Morris?"

Frohike's face clouded with simple confusion. 
Oblivious to the undercurrent present between
Julia and Gabriel, he replied, "No... can't say
that I do."

"Julia..." Gabriel growled with faint warning,
forcing her to look up.

"All right, all right," she capitulated, giving
him an innocent smile.  Yeah, she was guileless,
all right.  About as naive as a ten-year veteran
of the Bureau - *that* certainly hadn't changed. 
"I've got to get back, anyway.  Before I go,
though - what's the plan?"

That made Gabriel's heart skip a beat - and not
the question about the plan, either.  He'd known
she couldn't stay, but just the thought of her
going back to that den of thieves was enough to
make worry set in.  He saw Frohike pick up on
his thoughts, and the little man moved forward,
instantly launching into what little they'd
discussed already.

"The plan?  Still in the formative stages,
Julia.  We're still waiting on my associates to
arrive."

"Your associates?"

"Fitzgerald and Samson.  Should be here shortly. 
You just sit tight."

"Sit tight?"  She looked up at Gabriel, who'd
managed to quell some of his fear at her return
to the Ranch.

"Don't let them take you away from the Ranch,"
he said.  "Stay close.  You still have access to
the computer?"

"Yes - it's in Matthew's room.  I can use it
while I sit with him."

"If there's any news, we'll post it there.  If
you need anything, send a message.  We may not
stay here in the cabin, but we'll be close by." 
He looked at Frohike, who nodded.  They both
knew the cabin probably wouldn't remain the safe
refuge it was for very much longer.  Bringing
her hand up, he gave her palm a brush of his
lips.  "Don't worry.  I'm not going anywhere
without you."

Frohike appeared out of the corner of Gabriel's
eye, cloak in hand.  With the utmost gentleness,
he draped it over her shoulders, saying, "And I
won't let him leave without you, how's that?"

Julia let Gabriel pull her to the door.  "You
leave without me, and I'll just find you.  You
both know that, don't you?"

"We don't doubt it," Gabriel chuckled, pulling
the hood over her head.  "Come on, I'll walk you
back."

"No you won't."  She was adamant, buttoning up
her cloak with a stern stare.  "I came here by
myself, I can certainly make my own way back."

"Julia -"

"No, Gabriel.  I'm pregnant, not blind.  And I
can take care of myself."

"No kidding," came Frohike's murmur.

Gabriel flashed him a 'you're not helping' look,
but Julia headed off his argument, circling his
cheek with her hand, forcing his gaze back to
her.  "I don't want you coming near the Ranch
until we're ready to go, you understand me? 
What you did tonight... getting that close.  It
was foolhardy.  But I knew you'd try it.  Just
don't do it again, okay?  I'm fine."  She
reached up and gave him a kiss, short but sweet. 
"See you soon."

Gabriel disregarded Frohike's presence, pulling
her into a tight hug.  "We're gonna get out of
here," he whispered.  "I promise."

Her breath against his neck was warm, as was
her, "I know.  I trust you, Gabriel."  She knew
his pronouncement was more for his benefit than
hers; her strength of will was stronger, and
always would be.  After allowing him a moment
more of their embrace, she let go, turning for
the door.  Before she left, however, she gave
Frohike a sidelong glance, her parting words
soft and probing.

"Wouldn't happen to be Max Fitzgerald and Morris
Samson, would it?"

Gabriel groaned at Frohike's acting, as his
friend snapped his fingers as if just making the
connection.  "Come to think of it... yeah. 
Small world, isn't it?"

As she opened the door with a laugh, she walked
out, Gabriel close behind.  "I told you I was
walking back alone."

"I'm just seeing my date to the door," he said,
closing it behind him.  The wind had picked up,
howling through the forest with the brisk
forecast of snow.  He gathered her to him with a
wink.  "How about a goodnight kiss?"

Tilting her head up, she murmured, "If I kiss
you, I won't leave."

He dropped a kiss on her nose.  "Would you
believe me if I said that was the plan all
along?"

"No.  I believe you and the Colonel have no idea
how to get us all off this mountain, am I
right?"

He wasn't giving her the satisfaction; besides,
why say it?  They both knew the days ahead were
scary enough.  And he had faith in his friends'
abilities - they'd proven themselves many times
over.  "We work best under pressure.  Trust me."

"I do."  Her statement was sure, then she cocked
her head to one side, a bare hint of curiosity
on her night-shadowed face.  "Michael?"

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.  "Huh?"

"Well, there's a Melvin, a Max, and a Morris.  A
little voice is telling me you're Michael.  Am I
right?"

If he could just turn off his memories, he'd be
fine.  But the recollection of their pre-escape
couch conversation in the tower slid up from
nowhere.

//What would you choose?//

//For you?  Michael.//

So much for letting sleeping dogs lie.  "Julia,"
he sighed, "don't ask me -"

"Hey, I can guess, right?  It'll give me
something to do while I wait."  She smothered
his protest with her lips.  The kiss was
painfully brief, but intense.  He broke away
after a few seconds, the plea for her to stay
crawling up his tongue.  But she silenced him
with her fingers in a farewell caress before
turning to carefully take the steps.

"Julia?" he called, stopping her before she
reached the tree line.

"Yes?"  She turned and faced him again, hands
hidden in the folds of her cloak.

"Not Michael," he gave her with a smile,
shivering in the night air.

She grinned.  "As long as I never slept with
Melvin, Max or Morris, okay?"

His smile faded, his hands fisting in his jeans
pockets.  "Over my dead body."

"Thought so.  See ya later, Moe."  One second,
then two passed before she lifted the corner of
her mouth.  "Not that either, huh?"

Gabriel shook his head, hiding his astonishment
at the names falling like dominoes from her mind
with a rueful grin.

"Oh, I'll get it right one day.  Trust me." 
With a sly look, she was gone.

That, he didn't doubt.

He waited until she blended in with the trees
before going back inside.  As soon as the door
closed behind him, he was assaulted by a human
tornado, shoved up against the door.

"Pregnant?  Damn it, Mulder, why didn't you tell
me?"  Frohike barked into his face.  Gabriel
opened his mouth to reply, but Frohike turned
away to pace the floor, running a shaky hand
over his nearly bald pate.  "We're fucked.  Big
time."

Gabriel sagged into one of the kitchen chairs,
scrubbing at his bristly cheeks.  "I didn't know
how to tell you.  Damn it, it shocked me more
than it did you, you know."

"This is going to make escape difficult - on
foot, anyway."

"I know.  But it's not like we'd given our plan
any thought yet, is it?" Gabriel offered with a
snide look.

His dig went unnoticed.  In the now dark cabin,
Frohike looked ten feet tall, his boots almost
wearing a hole in the floor.  Suddenly, he
stopped.  "Is it yours?"

How many times had he asked himself the same
question?  Pondered the possibilities over and
over, only to come to the same dubious
conclusion.  He raised his head, solemnly
declaring, "I don't know."

Frohike sighed, his offended little rooster act
fading as he stooped to throw another log on the
fire.

"Not too much, man," Gabriel warned.  "Keep it
small."

"I know.  I just suddenly got very cold."

Gabriel swallowed, knowing the Colonel had
immediately drawn the same conclusions he had a
week ago.  There was no telling whose baby Julia
was carrying, or in what manner it had been
conceived.  He felt like screaming again,
tearing the cabin into little pieces in his
rage.

"Just so you know."  Frohike sat across from
him, folding his hands on the table.  "I'd do
anything for her - even claim that baby."

The chair almost toppled over as Gabriel rose,
fury tainting his cheeks.  "And I wouldn't? 
Fuck you, Frohike."

"Mulder -"

He leaned over the table, tamping down his voice
to a low, menacing growl.  "I don't give a shit
who that baby belongs to, understand?  It's
hers, which will make it mine.  Both of them are
mine, and I'll kill anyone who tries to take
them away from me again, got it?"

His friend slumped in his chair, folding his
arms with a grin.  "Just checking.  You never
were the poster boy for stability, you know."

"Asshole."  But he couldn't deny that Frohike
had a point.  And he didn't expect less from the
man who loved Scully as much as he did.

"Hmm... may be.  But I'm the one who's gonna get
your sorry ass out of here, hers too.  And this
little development - which you neglected to tell
me - puts a definite kink in the plan."

"What plan?" Gabriel huffed, hands on hips. 
"Unless you've got something you neglected to
tell *me* about."

"I figured we'd just nab her and haul ass.  I
was going to suggest it when I came out of the
bathroom, until I laid eyes on her.  Not gonna
be easy now, not in her condition."

Gabriel sighed, resuming his seat at the table. 
"Any kind of trek down this mountain on foot
would be impossible if we stay off the road, you
know that - even if she weren't pregnant. 
Besides, I want to make sure they can't call her
again.  Even if I have to kill every son-of-a-
bitch at that Ranch."

"That's not going to be easy, Mulder.  It would
make more sense to come at it from another
direction."  Frohike paused, giving his newly
shaven chin a scrape with his fingernails.  "You
think it's the chip Krycek gave her that's
keeping her under their control?"

"What else could it be?  It wouldn't be the
first time that fucker double-crossed us, you
know."

"I don't know, man.  He had Scully right there
in the bunker.  He could have led anyone to her
- to all of us, at any time.  Could havve had the
place incinerated and delivered Scully all nice
and neat to whoever wanted her.  But he didn't. 
Explain that."

"I've thought of all that, believe me.  I just
can't see it any other way.  It's got to be the
chip."  He raised his head, adamant in his
certainty, piercing his friend with anguished
eyes.

"Unless there's another chip."  Frohike
straightened in his chair, his grin lighting up
his face.  "Put in by your father in the
tower..."

Damn.  Could it be?  He leapt ahead, sudden hope
brightening his gaze.  "Able to call her at any
time... capable of erasing her memory..."

"But why wait so long to call her?"

Gabriel's mind raced; he dug deep, profiling his
old man, replaying their last dinner together
like a slideshow.

//"She can't have children," he'd insisted over
his rolling nausea.

And his father's smug, "She can now."//

"Maybe there was no need... at the time." 
Gabriel's whisper was soft, yet hopeful.

"So it laid dormant until her body began
producing human chorionic gonadotrophic
hormone..." Frohike continued.

Gabriel's smile was wide.  "Signaling a
pregnancy."

Frohike nodded, though his voice was still wary. 
"Thin."

Gabriel's smile faded just a bit.  "*Very* thin. 
It usually takes days for a woman's HCG levels
to rise to detectable levels."

"Ah, but we're talking very advanced technology
here, Mulder.  I've seen these chips.  Nothing
like them anywhere - who's to say what they can
do?"

It made sense, Gabriel had to admit.  So much
sense that he wondered why he hadn't thought of
this possibility earlier.  But the problems were
still numerous, including the fact that they
didn't know where the second chip was.  It could
be hidden anywhere under her skin, or worse -
deep within, where they'd never find it.

Could he live with her *never* remembering what
they were to each other?

Frohike noticed his lapse into introspection. 
"What is it?"

With a smile, he decided he could.  God damn it,
he could live with *anything* as long as he had
her with him.  Even this slim hope that the baby
was his; hell, he'd known from the moment he saw
her again that he would love that child as much
as he loved her.  But a small, selfish part of
him wished it to be true - smashed down the
intelligent part telling him it couldn't be his
child.

"Frohike, you just made my day."  His hand was
shaking as he brought it up to wipe at his
suddenly moist eyes.  "I hope."

"There's no *hoping* about it, if your
declaration a little while ago about them being
yours is true.  Doesn't matter."

"But it would be mighty nice, wouldn't it?"

"Damn right it would."  His friend stood and
held out his hand.  "Congratulations, Mulder. 
Name the kid after me, okay?"



End Chapter Seventeen