"A bomb?"

"That's what the perp says and it looks like he's telling the truth. There's a couple of FBI agents among the hostages. One of them has been on the phone and confirmed it."

"Shit."

Zan Snyder's hands busied themselves fastening the velco tabs on the much-too-large Kevlar vest as the van sped toward the Craddock Marine bank, her mind totally focused on the situation she was about to face. Get the gunman on the phone, talk him down, win his trust and resolve the situation with as little damage as possible. That's what the book said, but in the five years she had spent with the District's hostage negotiation unit she had discovered that real life rarely followed the book. She had learned to improvise. It had served her well, saving lives while earning her commendations and censure in almost equal proportions.

"There it is." Her partner directed her gaze one block ahead of them toward the mass of flashing red and blue lights that marked the perimeter of the site. The vehicles would have been pulled back to a reasonably safe distance as soon as they realized they were dealing with a bomb.

She turned back toward her partner. "FBI agents?"

He ran a hand through the silky chestnut hair that seemed determined to return to his forehead. "Yeah, that's what I was told. Wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. One of them is down. Pretty bad, according to his partner."

So the clock was ticking. The adrenaline rush made her hands shake slightly and her partner spotted it. "Don't mess with this guy, Zan. He's an amateur, a kid who's already made two rash moves. He has nothing to lose." His dark-fringed hazel eyes sought hers as he pulled up behind the communications truck that would be her base of operations. She reached over and squeezed his hand briefly.

"I'll be careful, Jack." She gave him a reassuring smile, then hopped out of the van and headed for the com truck. Before she had covered half the distance, two shots rang out as one of the bank windows blew outward, spraying shards of glass onto the sidewalk. She ducked behind the back fender of the com truck until it became apparent that no more shots were coming for the moment, then she opened the door and climbed in.

"Hey, Zan. Glad you could make it." Lieutenant Ron Kraskow pulled his gaze away from the bank of monitors and motioned for her to take the seat next to him. He pointed to the image on the center screen. "We just got the camera placed a few minutes ago. Things are heating up in there."

She followed his gaze to the screen. There was no sound with the picture but it was clear that the woman kneeling on the floor was shouting at the perp who was gesturing wildly toward the man lying at his feet. As she watched, the gunman stepped back and pointed a handgun at the man on the floor. The woman stopped shouting and leaned over the wounded man as if her body could protect him.

"Is that blood?" Zan's index finger traced a large, dark spot on the floor along the wounded man's left side.

Kraskow grimaced. "Yeah, it is. The guy hasn't got long, that's for sure."

"So what are you doing to get him out of there?"

Both of them turned to face a tall, broad-shouldered man in a trench coat who had entered the truck as they were studying the monitor.

"A.D. Skinner, this is Sergeant Lizann Snyder with the Hostage Negotiation Unit. Zan, the two agents in the bank work for the Assistant Director. He's here to offer whatever assistance he can."

She nodded briefly and returned her attention to the screen. "We're going to need it." She picked up the headset from the console and put it on, adjusting the mouthpiece as she spoke. "Do we have a line to them?"

"We've called him twice on one of the agent's cell phones. He won't answer the land line." Kraskow punched in the phone number and she listened to three rings while watching the gunman pull the phone from his pocket and flip it open. His voice was shaking with fury.

"Where's the goddamned car! I'm not fucking around with you people any longer!"

"Sir, this is Zan Snyder. I'm here to help you but I need you to calm down."

"I'm not gonna calm down until I'm fifty fucking miles from this shithole, do you understand me? Now get that damn car here NOW or I'm pushing the button and you can spend the next month trying to figure out who the pieces belong to!" He broke the connection.

"Tactical to Com Center."

Kraskow grabbed his radio and responded. "Kraskow. What have you got."

"We'll have a mike activated any second now."

Kraskow acknowledged the transmission and turned to Snyder and Skinner. "The S.W.A.T. guys have the sound working."

The speaker above the monitor came abruptly to life. Overriding the cries of the hostages in the background was the voice of the woman FBI agent, pleading with the man she called Bernard to allow her partner to be removed to a hospital. She would stay, she promised, and do whatever she could to help him if he would allow her to get her partner the help he needed before it was too late. From what Zan could tell, it looked like 'too late' had pretty much already come and gone. The man she was cradling in her lap had what appeared to be a dead center gunshot wound in the chest and had already lost a staggering amount of blood.

But this could work, she decided. All she had to do was convince Kraskow to let her go in as one of the paramedics. Face to face with the man, she had a chance to resolve this without anyone else getting hurt. She punched in the cell phone number and turned to face Kraskow.

"Ron, I need the paramedics here in five minutes, ready to roll."

Kraskow turned to his radio and gave the order while Zan waited for Bernard to pick up the phone, her eyes fixed on the monitor. He seemed to jump when the phone rang in his pocket but made no move to answer it. The woman agent spoke softly to him, telling him this was his chance to do the right thing, and he surprised them all by handing her the phone.

"This is Agent Dana Scully. Who am I speaking with?" Her voice was calm and professional and her eyes were riveted on the man standing over her.

"This is Sergeant Zan Snyder of the District Hostage Negotiation Unit. We have you on video and audio, Agent, and we believe your perp is ready to deal. What do you need?"

"Paramedics with at least four units of O negative blood. Bernard is going to let them treat my partner and move him out of here, but they've got to come now." Unspoken but clearly implied was the rest of her thought: *before he changes his mind*.

"They're on the way, Agent Scully. Tell him we're coming in unarmed." Knowing Bernard couldn't hear, she added, "We're moving a sharpshooter into position, but I'm coming in as one of the paramedics to try talking him down instead."

"I understand." Her voice fell to a whisper with the next words. "Please hurry."

"We're coming now." She disconnected the call and turned to Kraskow whose expression had turned to stone in the past few seconds.

"There is no way in hell I'm letting you go in there."

That sounded final. "Ron, I don't have time to argue with you. If you want to end this without any more bloodshed, you have to let me do this my way."

A.D. Skinner inserted himself between them. "I think she's right, Lieutenant. You've got a sniper in place. Give her a chance to get the man out of there alive."

Kraskow looked from one to the other for a long moment that was interrupted when the paramedics rapped loudly on the truck's door.

"Ron, it's now or never." She went to the door and explained to the paramedics that she needed one of them to swap shirts with her.

"All right, Zan. Have it your way. But watch your ass in there."

She smiled at him over her shoulder as she dropped the Kevlar vest and pulled off her shirt. Skinner turned away, blushing. Kraskow just returned her smile.

***

Scully handed the phone back to Bernard. "You're doing the right thing, Bernard. You won't regret it."

"You better be right because you're gonna be with me all the way, whatever happens."

Mulder twisted weakly in her arms, trying to get her attention. "Scuh..." His voice was a rusty rasp, "...don't..." He began to cough. Deep, wet wracking coughs that sent blood flowing from the corner of his mouth and stole what little breath he had left.

"It's alright, Mulder. Please, don't try to talk." She increased the pressure against the wound with her right hand and caressed his cheek with her left, trying to calm him.

The coughing subsided to labored pants as he tried to pull in enough oxygen to remain conscious. He was desperate to stop her, almost as desperate as *she* was to get him out of there alive. "You can't... go... with him..." He tried to arch his back with the next wave of pain but there was just no strength left in him. "Please, Scully... don't..." A sharp, hitching gasp cut off whatever he wanted to tell her, so he let his eyes say the rest.

She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I won't, Mulder. I promise. Please, I need you to lie quietly. Help is on the way." She pulled back so she could see his face and found it relaxed into a slight smile. His lips began to move and she had to lean in again to hear him.

"...keep promise or... haunt you..." He closed his eyes and relaxed against her, his head lolling to the side. She felt frantically for the pulse in his throat and let out a shaky sigh when she found it still there. Heedless of the eyes watching them on video, she kissed his lips softly and tasted blood. "Please, Mulder..."

Bernard's head snapped around as a voice amplified through a bullhorn outside warned that the paramedics were approaching the door. He scanned the hostages huddled around him on floor, grabbed the woman nearest him by the arm and hauled her to her feet. "Let them in. And don't even think about ducking out of here. I'll be watching you." He motioned her toward the door with the barrel of his weapon and she moved quickly to obey.

Scully watched as the hostage returned with a man and a woman in paramedic uniforms. They were rolling a stretcher between them, loaded with equipment. Scully thought that the woman must be the hostage negotiator she had spoken with a few moments ago. When their gazes met, she was sure.

"What have we got?" The man's badge identified him as Jerry Haslett and he was all business, pulling the stretcher alongside Mulder and kneeling quickly to check out his patient. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked froze him in mid-motion.

"Just hold it right there. Nobody touches him until I check out the stuff you brought in here. If I find anything that looks like a weapon, he's gonna have a lot of company." He waved the gun at Haslett and Zan, moving them back away from Mulder. Glancing frequently to make sure they made no threatening moves, he pawed through the equipment they had piled on the stretcher then patted each of them down in turn. When he had satisfied himself that they had no weapons concealed in the equipment or on themselves, he stepped back.

"Do what you gotta do and get him out of here."

Haslett resumed his position at Mulder's left side, kneeling in a pool of blood. "The first thing we need to do is try to keep up with the blood loss." He glanced up at Scully while he started the infusion in Mulder's left arm. "How long ago did this happen."

Scully looked down at Mulder's closed eyes, his dark lashes brushing against skin so pale it looked almost translucent. "About forty minutes." She removed her hand from the wound and applied the pressure bandage Haslett handed to her while he attached leads for the heart monitor. The readout showed a rapid, thready pulse that told them time was running out.

Zan Snyder was crouched at Mulder's right side, ostensibly helping her 'partner', but her full attention was on the man with the gun. She ran through the possibilities in her mind, searching for something in his manner, his voice, his words, that would give her the edge she needed to reach him. Seeing him in person, she realized how young he was. Early twenties, thin, haggard and scared to death. And desperate, which gave him an unpredictability that required delicate handling. The rapt attention he had been giving the two FBI agents hadn't seemed noteworthy when seen from the com truck, but seeing his face now as he watched them told her there was something else going on here. Something in his eyes, a glimpse of...

A gasping moan drew her back to the man at her side and their eyes met for a brief instant before his closed tightly in pain. Beautiful eyes, even under the circumstances. He reminded her of Jack. She looked over at his partner and was stunned by the depth of emotion the woman was making no attempt to disguise. *She's in love with him. That's what Bernard is seeing.* And that realization gave Zan the edge she was looking for.

"Bernard? Can I call you Bernard?" He turned his haunted gaze in her direction and nodded. "Bernard, is there someone close to you, someone you would like us to call?"

She had taken him by surprise. "What are you talking about?"

His vulnerability was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew she was on the right track. "Someone who deserves to know the danger you've placed yourself in for her. Your wife? Your girlfriend?"

Bernard didn't answer but his glance shifted toward the door for a fleeting second. "Is she outside, Bernard? Is she waiting for you out there? Tell me, and we can let her talk to you, let her tell you how much she wants you to come out of this safely."

"Mulder!"

"Shit."

Haslett and Agent Scully reacted at the same instant. Mulder had pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and gone totally limp. A second later, the monitor readout flatlined and Scully scrambled out of the way, gently lowering Mulder's head to the floor. As Haslett grabbed the portable defib unit, Scully breathed for her partner between quiet sobs and whispered prayers.

"Mulder, don't do this to me. Please, Mulder."

"Charging." Haslett smeared gel on the paddles and watched the digital numbers count up the charge. When it reached 260, he called out, "Clear!" and applied the paddles to Mulder's chest. His body convulsed under the shock, then fell silent and still. The readout showed a blip caused by the shock, then went flat. Haslett reset the unit and tried again. Every eye in the bank was trained on the struggle, including Bernard's. Zan saw an opportunity and ran with it.

"Bernard, give me the gun and let me help you deactivate the bomb. This has to be over. Now. There isn't any more time." She stepped toward him, holding out her hand. Behind her, Haslett tried for the third time to restart Mulder's heart. She heard the zap of electricity followed by the resumption of soft beeps that signaled success. Scully's whispered 'Thank God' seemed to send a tremor through Bernard's body.

"Bernard?" Zan could see that his eyes were on Scully as she gently, lovingly, caressed her partner's face, wiping the blood from his mouth with her thumb. Her tear-streaked face broke into a glowing smile as he opened his eyes and looked up at her.

Bernard slowly turned to face her. "All right." He crossed the short distance between them and held out his gun and the one he had taken from Scully, butt first. When she accepted them, he opened his shirt and flipped the safety cover down over the activator switch for the bomb and held out his hands to her, wrists together as if they were already cuffed.

"It's going to be okay, Bernard." She pulled her handcuffs from a back pocket and gently closed them around his left wrist, pulling it behind him before reaching for the right. Then she pressed the transmit button on her shoulder unit and notified Kraskow that the scene had been secured.

She walked Bernard to the front door of the bank, preceding him out into the late morning sunlight. Jack was there waiting to see that she was okay and she flashed him a smile. With the reporters held back behind the police lines, she and Bernard were able to reach the bomb squad's armored truck unmolested. There was still the issue of the explosives strapped to the man's body, but the main threat was over. As she turned Bernard over to the bomb squad, a woman called out from behind the police cordon and Bernard turned toward the sound of her voice.

"Pam!" The woman pressed her hands against her mouth and began to cry.

"It's over. It's over, it's over, it's over..." Her voice trailed off and she would have crumpled to the sidewalk if not for the strangers at her side who reached out to help her. Bernard turned to Zan. "Please talk to her. Tell her... tell her I'm sorry." He was pulled away from her then and loaded into the bomb squad's truck. When she turned to look for Pam, she had disappeared into the crowd.

***

Georgetown University Hospital
Monday, 10:40 pm

The soft beeps from the monitor told her Mulder's heart was still beating. The rhythmic hissing of the ventilator told her he was still breathing in and out, although not of his own volition. After eight hours of surgery and nearly two hours in recovery, they were on their first hour in Intensive Care. And she thanked God for every minute. When she had knelt next to him on the cold, marble floor of the bank forcing her breath into his ruined lungs, she had been certain that he was gone. Every beat of his heart since then was a gift.

"I kept my promise, Mulder. You can't leave me now."

***

Zan Snyder had not been able to get the two FBI agents out of her mind. It had been a grueling afternoon with four hours of debriefing followed by nearly an hour 'on the carpet' in her lieutenant's office hearing once again how reckless her actions had been. She didn't mind the heat. The image of Agent Scully holding her partner's hand, looking down into eyes so much like Jack's that it squeezed her heart, knowing he had a chance now because of what she had done... it was worth whatever flak she had to endure.

She was exhausted, but there were a couple of things she had to do before she could allow herself to rest.

***

Scully was startled out of a light doze by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sat up quickly and scanned the monitors before turning to see who had touched her. It was one of the nurses, the one who had brought the comfortable chair for her when it became obvious that she wasn't going to leave Mulder's side.

"Agent Scully, there's a woman at the desk asking for you. She says you know her. Sergeant Snyder."

"Yes. Can you send her back here?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be allowing *you* to stay. I'll sit with him until you come back. You look as if you could use a break." She smiled kindly and Scully stood up.

"Call me if there's any change. I'll be just a few minutes."

Scully blinked against the comparative glare as she stepped into the hall. Sergeant Snyder approached her with her hand outstretched. "Agent Scully, I'm sorry to intrude but I wanted to see how you and your partner are doing." Scully shook the woman's hand warmly and they moved to a bench near the ICU entrance.

"You're not intruding, Sergeant. You're the reason Mulder is still alive."

"How is he?"

Scully shifted her gaze to the ICU doors as she spoke. "The bullet broke two ribs and collapsed his left lung. He lost nearly half of his blood volume and he's in a coma. The next 24 hours will be critical, but I think he's going to be alright." Her voice fell to a whisper, "He *has* to be."

Zan took the young woman's hand and squeezed, waiting until she met her eyes before she spoke. "You and your partner are a good part of the reason I was able to get the perp to give himself up, you know."

"I don't understand."

"I think you reminded him of what he was about to lose." Zan smiled shyly. "You did the same thing for me, Agent Scully. I came down here to thank you."

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. I'm not following."

"You and your partner reminded Bernard -- and *me* -- of how precious life is and how easily the people we love can be taken away. Today could have ended very badly, for all of us, but we were given another chance. I intend to make the most of it."

"I see."

Agent Scully's discomfort was obvious. And puzzling. "Agent, if I've said something..."

Scully stood abruptly. "I sincerely appreciate everything you've done, Sergeant, but I have to get back to my partner now."

Zan's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You've never told him how you feel, have you?" When the other woman looked away quickly, Zan reached out and grasped her hand, tugging gently until she turned back to face her. "What are you waiting for?"

Scully pulled her hand back, not unkindly. "I'm sorry, Sergeant. I know you mean well but I have no intention of discussing my personal business with you."

"I'm sorry, too. It just never occurred to me that you weren't together. You obviously love him..."

She never got to finish the thought. Scully made a gesture of dismissal. "I have to get back to my partner."

Zan smiled at her with a sadness that made Scully's breath catch in her throat. "I didn't come here to upset you. I'm sorry." She touched Scully's arm comfortingly and left without another word.

Scully stood motionless and watched her all the way to the elevators, not moving until the door had closed behind her.

***

Zan rapped lightly on the passenger window and smiled as she watched her partner stretch behind the wheel. He gave her a sleepy grin and reached over to unlock the door.

"Did you get to see them?"

She settled into the plush leather seat and closed her eyes. "Yeah. He's doing okay, considering. I made a major blunder, however."

"How's that?"

"I came here to thank her for showing me something I had been hiding from myself. Turns out that she's even better at self- deception than *I* am."

"I'm not following you."

"Funny, that's exactly what Agent Scully said to me. Guess I'm being a little obtuse tonight." She turned in her seat and pulled his hand into hers. "Take me home, Jack. I think I know how I might be able to show you what I'm trying to say."

Those incredible eyes changed from gold-flecked jade to smoky topaz as he realized what she was offering.

"Zan, I don't want you making any decisions under duress. I don't want any room for regret tomorrow."

"The only thing I'll ever regret is the time it's taken us to come to this point." She placed her palm against his cheek and rubbed her thumb softly over his full lips. "Let's go home."

***

ICU - Tuesday, 2:20 am

*What are you waiting for?* It was an excellent question, one she had spent the past few hours trying to answer for herself.

In the beginning, she had chastised herself for having done something as unprofessional as developing a crush on her partner. He was just so damn beautiful... and that *voice*. The soft, throaty rumble he always used whenever the case he was trying to pitch to her was especially hard to swallow... she could *feel* it more than hear it. She had never been attracted to tall men before, for obvious reasons. But instead of making her feel small, Mulder's height seemed to balance her own in the same way that his unorthodox view of life balanced her staid science. He rarely slept. She was a zombie if she got less than seven hours. He was the penultimate junk food junkie. She lived on salads and non-fat yogurt. They were opposites in every way but one: their goal was the truth and the only weapon they had in the fight to find it was their faith in each other.

What if they applied that faith to their relationship? Did she still believe she was protecting them from their enemies by pretending she didn't love him more than her own life? Would losing him hurt any less if they kept each other at arms length, or would she spend the rest of her days grieving for what could have been?

Mulder moaned softly and Scully reached out to brush her fingertips lightly over his cheek, tracing lips still chapped from the respirator that had been removed a short time ago. He was breathing on his own now and showing signs that he was coming around. They had been given a second chance and it was up to her to make the most of it.

"Mulder? Mulder, it's me." He turned his head toward the sound of her voice. "Open your eyes, Mulder."

He frowned in concentration, a glint of hazel appearing beneath lashes that opened and closed in a slow blink.

"Come on, partner. It's time to wake up." She rubbed his shoulder lightly and he opened his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Scully?" He was conscious enough to feel the pain now, that much was obvious. She pressed the call button and reached for the cup of ice chips.

"They removed the vent a little while ago, that's why your throat hurts." She placed a small spoonful onto his tongue. "Just let it melt, Mulder. You know the drill."

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool liquid soothe his raw throat. When he looked up at her again, the pain in his eyes clutched at her heart. "Mulder, they're coming with a pain shot for you. Just hang on."

He shook his head. "No... not yet. Want to... tell you..." He was struggling to get the words out.

"I have something to tell you, too." She touched his face, rubbing her fingers lightly over the stubble. "I think we've waited long enough, don't you?" She put everything she was feeling into a blinding smile.

The emotions that flashed through his eyes changed their color from smoky gray to gold-flecked hazel to soft emerald in a heartbeat. "...love you..."

"I know, Mulder. And you know that I love you, so let's do something about it." A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and he reached up to trace its path down her cheek.

"Deal." He closed his eyes and smiled.

***

end