Title: The Haven Rating: PG-13 Authors: bcfan, Xandria, Lissy Ratz, and b.fat Category: XRH Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, Adventure, Historical AU Email Addresses: bcfan - bcfan@shaw.ca Xandria - xandria1013@yahoo.com Lissy Ratz - BeMerry23@hotmail.com b.fat - Starbuck70@aol.com Setting: 1920s New York Characters: Fox Mulder - shell-shocked WW I veteran Dana Scully - ace reporter for the N.Y. Times Alex Krycek - wealthy white Russian immigrant Walter Skinner - Manhattan Police Captain Charles Spender - head of bootleg operations, NYC and any others that come to mind *NOTE* bcfan started this story on The Haven's fanfic board and it really took off from there. I think we're all pretty proud of it- it was so much fun to write!! :) I hope you enjoy it as much as we did. Chapter 1 (bcfan): It was a muggy day in August in New York City, and Dana Scully was on the scent. Tipped by her most important informant (Capt. Skinner) she hugged the side of the sweat-damp brick building, then slowly craned her neck around the corner into the alley, hoping to spot yet another bootleg operation in progress. Unloading illegal whiskey wasn't news - unless that whiskey was rotten. Some uncaring moneygrubber was killing people with his rotgut, and Scully was determined to put a stop to it. As Scully scanned the alleyway where the transaction was supposed to take place, her heart sank. Nothing. Another day wasted - and another day without a story, which meant (since she was paid by the storyline) another day without money. Her shoulders sagging, Scully resumed her shadowed vigil, hoping against hope that she wasn't too late. Suddenly, she heard the sharp bite of tires on gravel from the opposite end of the alleyway. A few moments later, muffled protests, and she peered once again into the narrow alley. With dismay, she saw two burly men holding up a slighter figure, who was then tossed against a wall. As the figure moaned and the others retreated back into their car, Scully debated to herself - should she go and help the obvious victim and lose her story, or wait a while longer to see what would happen next? (xandria): The victim moaned, a long deep grunt, and Scully knew she couldn't leave a fellow human in pain. She'd have to take her chances on getting the story. She mentally berated herself for hesitating as she rushed over to the victim. The first thing she noticed of the unconscious form was the long gash on the right side of his face. Blood dripped from his lower lip. He was dressed only in a hospital gown, his legs and feet were bare. She couldn't help but notice the bullet wound on his thigh. He was thin, too thin. Then turning to his face, which had a sickly white pallor of someone who hadn't seen the sun in a long time. Pulling out a white handkerchief with the initials "DKS" embroidered on it, she wiped the blood from his lip and cheek. At the contact, he opened his eyes. Deep hazel eyes which bored into her own blue ones. "Thank you," he said calmly, his eyes still meeting her gaze. (nezmai): "You're welcome," she said, realizing how stupid that probably sounded but not knowing what else to say. What did you say to a half naked man in a filthy alleyway? "I'm Dana - I'm not a doctor but I'd like to help you. Can you stand up?" The stranger nodded, one hand gripping at the brick wall behind him, pushing at it to bring himself to his feet. Unfortunately, he leaned on his hurt leg, almost dropping to the ground again as she clasped his shoulder awkwardly and pulled some of his weight onto her. "Where are we going?" he asked. Where indeed. She just wanted to get away from here before those goons returned or the bootleggers spotted them. She needed some answers before deciding what to do next. Where could they go - nice girls, her mother told her once, didn't go places with strange men. Well she wasn't a "nice girl" - she was a reporter. "My apartment...let's go." (Lissy Ratz): With one arm swung over her shoulders she half dragged him to the opening of the alley. Before she reached the end of the shadows that the large building cast, she had second thoughts. Emerging from a suspiciously dark alley at dusk carrying a half naked man up to her apartment wasn't something she needed to be seen doing. She was supposed to write the headlines, not star in them. Her driven character already bought her enough nick names and disrespect at the office for one lifetime. But she knew this could be her last chance. 'Well, it's not like I have much left to lose' she thought to herself. She checked both ways before turning the corner and walking as quickly as can be expected with the victim's dead weight on her shoulder. A grand black car rolled down the block and Dana swiftly ducked into another alley as it glided through downtown. As it passed the overcrowded buildings, the Ford's headlights almost seemed to give off a disapproving stair to those who dealt with he filth in the shadows of this swanky area of the city. When the coast was clear again, she readjusted his arm on her shoulder and began walking. "How much further do we have to go?" The stranger rasped. "Only a block or to. Do you think you can make it Mr.-?" "Mulder. Yeah." In the next alley they waited for some group of young men to pass. "Then what?" He asked as if they were in the middle of a conversation. Puzzled by his words and by her own actions, she looked up again to see the same beautiful black car drive back from wherever it was. "I- I'm not sure" She said, as she watched the car slow to a stop. An old hand rolled down the window and from it; a lit cigarette butt was thrown carelessly out. (bcfan): At the sight of the black limo and the cigarette-stained hand, Mulder suddenly jerked himself out of Scully's arms and hid, curled and shaking, behind a fetid garbage can in the mouth of the alleyway. Scully gazed in despair at the injured stranger - she wanted to do the right thing for him, but how could she do so on her own? As the limo glided away once more, Scully laid her hand comfortingly on Mulder's head. "Wait here for just a moment", she murmured to him. "I'll go get help". Mulder nodded mutely from his hiding place, shivering. Walking briskly down the block, Scully suddenly smiled to herself. There was Constable Pendrell! A young, eager beat cop, Scully knew that Pendrell had a bit of a crush on her, and decided to enlist his aid. "Sgt. Pendrell", Scully smilingly declared, "would you mind giving me a hand?" Pendrell immediately stopped and turned to his favorite reporter. "Miss Scully, so nice to see you...anything you need, I'll be happy to help!" Pendrell followed Scully back down the block, scowling as Scully explained how she wanted Pendrell to help her smuggle a stranger into her room. A half-naked stranger, yet! But soon, they made short work of Scully's request, bundling Mulder in a blanket and stealthily delivering him by Pendrell's patrol car to Scully's apartment. Mulder remained mute throughout the proceedings as Scully and Pendrell laid him on her bed. "Thank you, Sgt.", Scully declared, glancing kindly at Pendrell. "I can take over from here." "Don't you want me to stay and help?" squeaked Pendrell, feeling an irrational jealousy clench his heart as he glanced at the injured but fine looking man laying on Scully's bed. Scully, after begging Pendrell to keep the whole incident quiet, escorted him to the door. Turning back to her new guest, Scully pondered. She was drawn to the mysterious stranger in ways she couldn't explain. The man in her bedroom needed first aid, a good meal, a bath, and clothing. Scully needed answers: Who was Mulder? Why had he been dumped in the alley? Why did he look so obviously like he'd been mistreated for a long time? And finally, who was that smoking stranger in the limo, that caused Mulder so much fear? Dana Scully - ace reporter - was determined to find out. (xandria): What to do first, Scully thought? "Umm, can I get you anything? " she offered, heading towards her kitchen area. Mulder's eyes followed the swing of her hips across the room. The studio apartment she shared with her roommate - they met at Vassar and moved to the city together after graduation - left much to be desired in terms of space. With the two of them it was cramped, and she wasn't sure how Monica would react to finding a half naked man in their bed. Well, she'd deal with that later - she wasn't expecting Monica back from her big date with that Russian guy until 2 or 3 am at least. "Water please," he requested, and perusing the empty icebox, she was thankful he didn't ask for anything else. Whiskey, coffee and cigarettes was all they had on hand. Dinner dates with rich men were the only times she and Monica got square meals. It was as well, since girdles went out and the flapper look went in, being poor helped them stay trim. "Here," she tipped the cup to his lips, seeing he was too weak to lift his arm. "Why did you help me?" he inquired, gazing at her with those soulful, hazel eyes. "You looked like you could use some help. And I'm a helpful type of gal," she said wiping his face with a wet cloth. The look in his eyes, the humidity in the air, and the nakedness of his skin made beads of sweat form on her forehead. She felt her pulse quicken, and jumped up. You're the one in charge here, Dana, she reminded herself. He is a victim, and I am a reporter, and I am going to tell his story. Maybe he's somehow involved with those bootleggers I was tipped about.....If I play my cards right, I may be able to get him to talk. "I think I should be asking you the questions. What happened to you? Who did this to you? And who was the guy in the black car," she fired off, stopping to roll and lick a cigarette. He watched her intently, the rasp of her tongue along the paper. At the spark of the match, his eyes lit up. Seeing his desire, she held the fag to his mouth and he inhaled deeply. After exhaling, he responded: "I'm a guilty man. I should be punished for my crimes." (Lissy Ratz): At that moment she had second thoughts about bringing this man to her home. She thought briefly that if she screamed, the paper thin walls would allow her cry to be heard by several neighbors and that seemed to reassure her. "I should be punished..." He whispered again almost reassuring himself, and her attention was caught by the way he spoke it. Almost as if he was reciting his lines in some bad play. "What crime have you committed?" She asked carefully. "I failed in every respect." He said simply, then closed his eyes. She wanted to continue her little interrogation but before she could speak again the front door opened and she froze. It was only 9:00pm, no one should be home now. Dana crept from her bed to the makeshift bedroom doorway that was really an old bed sheet hung up as a curtain in order to preserve some privacy. She was trying to catch a glimpse at the intruder, as if she could do anything to prevent a robbery. It wasn't as if they had anything worth stealing, though. Her typewriter and Monica's mother's wedding band were the only things worth more than $20. A second thought passed her mind then- could the black car followed them here? Exactly what had she gotten herself into? Just then she heard the loud smacking sound of a palm meeting cheek, followed by "You bastard!" Monica slammed the door closed again and muttered a Spanish profanity. "Oh thank God, I thought you were a stranger" Dana said almost laughing at herself. She emerged from behind the "bedroom" curtain to find Monica standing, rather distressed by the door. "Jesus! You scared me Dana, what are you doing home so early, bad lead?" "Something like that." Then after a beat Dana asked, "What happened, the Russian didn't turn out to be Prince Charming?" "Alex" She articulated his name with disgust, "was closer to the Prince of Thieves." "Well did you at least get dinner out of it?" "No! Before we were even seated, he had to excuse himself to 'discuss business' with some old guy. Mob maybe. I don't know. But then that sonofabitch had the nerve to ask- oh I don't even want to go into it! I mean- I don't care how you make your money as long as you're a decent person. Why can't I just meet some nice, blond hair, blue eyed, kind, non-gangster man for once? Dana, am I asking too much?" She took a breath finally, then added "I'm tired, I'm going to bed, are you going out tonight?" Monica asked as she walked passed Dana to her bed. "Mon...I-I, um, uhhh" Dana tried to catch her before pulling the curtain aside but was too late. Monica's jaw gaped in shock at the man currently lifting his hospital gown to examine a wound on his thigh. She didn't scream or faint at the surprise, which Dana gave her credit for. Dana joined her at the door and Mulder quickly pulled his gown back down sheepishly. Monica glared at Dana, posing a million questions in her stair; 'Where'd he come from?' or 'Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?' or anything. Dana tried to smooth over the awkward moment, "Monica, Mulder. Mulder, Monica" She said with a forced smile. After a moment's consideration Monica turned to Dana and asked, "Can we keep him?" in a hushed tone. (b.fat): "I don't know if we want to yet." Dana Scully said cryptically. Monica stayed in the makeshift doorway while Scully walked back over to the wounded man on the bed. She lifted the water to his lips again and let him take a long drink this time before setting the cup back onto the bedside table. She took a cautious seat beside him. "Do you need a doctor? Do you want me to call an ambulance?" She asked, partially out of concern, and partially because she was frightened by this man. She wasn't so sure she wanted him to stay much longer. And yet there was something endearing about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on that made her want to take care of him, to look after him and protect him. "No, no. It's okay really. I'll be fine." He let his eyes drift closed for a moment against the pain in his head. "What happened?" Scully asked again. By this time, Monica had retrieved the little chair from the desk where Dana's typewriter sat, and brought it over towards the bed. She didn't want to miss a minute of this conversation. This was the most exciting thing to happen to her since... well, since dinner, she supposed. It's not every day that she got too see a tall dark and handsome man screaming Russian curse words into a telephone. "I was captured." He whispered softly. "Tortured. They tried to brainwash me." Scully was intrigued now, and a little frightened. "By whom? Who captured you? Who brainwashed you?" "*Them*" he said with insistence, a little bit of panic entering into his voice. "They would have killed me. They tried." Scully took his hand reassuringly and looked towards Monica who stared back in confusion. The dark haired woman just shrugged and shook her head. Things were really getting interesting... (bcfan): As Mulder seemed to wilt visibly before their eyes, Dana studied his pale, thin features and drooping eyes. "All right," Dana declared briskly to her friend. "First things first. I'll get Mr. Mulder patched up and cleaned up - could you see if old Mrs. Carter down the hall will part with a bowl of chicken soup. The smell is permeating the building!" Monica smirked at her friend, then replied, "Sure, I'll tell her that your sick brother is staying with you - you know what a busy-body Mrs. Carter is. Has she ever met Charles?" At Dana's nod, Monica left. Dana pulled out a bowl from the kitchen area, a jug of water and bar of soap, and returned to Mulder's bedside, where she preceded to clean the ugly scrape on the side of his face. "I'll clean the tops and bottoms, Mr. Mulder, it's up to you to do the middle," she smiled. Mulder nodded, and Dana gently untied and pulled down the filthy hospital gown. As Dana carefully washed Mulder's chest, arms, back and well-formed hands, she was troubled - there was evidence of bruising, old and new, and markings around his wrists, which seemed to lend veracity to Mulder's claim of torture. Next, Dana began to wash his thighs, gently touching the angry red puckered scar. "Bullet wound, Mr. Mulder?" she softly inquired. "No...shrapnel, from the War" he grunted. "Still hurts". Quickly and efficiently, Scully washed down to his legs, then spent some time cleaning his narrow, elegant feet. Even when injured, this man is beautiful, Scully realized. "All right, I'll give you some privacy to finish", Scully declared, and Mulder nodded. Closing the curtain, Scully desperately tried to think of anything amongst their wardrobe that would fit her guest. She suddenly grinned as she remembered a present that her father, Admiral Scully, had sent her from his far-off travels. "Miss...Scully", Mulder called weakly, and Dana pulled the curtain aside. A slight pink tinge colored his cheeks. "I, uh, have to ... use the facilities". Scully smiled. "The water closet is down the hall. I do have something for you to wear, Mr. Mulder, and it's all the style - in Japan!" Dana helped Mulder into a cream kimono that was festooned with large orange flowers. As she helped Mulder tie the sash, his hospital gown fell to the floor. I'll examine the gown later for evidence, Scully thought. During the short trip down the hall, Scully met Monica, who was also able to steady Mulder. As Mulder closed the water closet door, Monica whispered to her friend, "Dana, that man looks gorgeous in orange - he should always wear it!" "We'll go clothes shopping later," Dana promised. Back in the apartment, Dana spooned soup into Mulder's mouth. He sank lower and lower from his propped up position on the bed until, suddenly, he was asleep. Dana gazed tenderly at Mulder's weary face, then covered him with a sheet and left the area. She and Monica needed to talk seriously about what to do next. (xandria): Chapter 2 "So seriously, you found him in an alley?" Monica asked for the third time, giggling as she poured them each another shot of whiskey while Dana chain-smoked. "You didn't tell me - are they going to publish your poem?" Dana responded, trying to change the subject after exhaustingly repeating the story in the alley. "Poem? What poem?" slurred Monica, walking over and pulling the sheet to the bedroom area aside. "I'm going to write a poem about that beautiful man over there. And how he's been hurt and abused - until he was rescued by his knight - er lady - in white. She's going to save him. Save him by wielding her pen and telling the truth that will bring the bad guys to justice!" At this outburst, Mulder opened his eyes. A sly grin spread over his face as he looked from Monica's spaced out countenance to Dana's embarrassed one. "What are you ladies drinking and can you share?" he asked. Dana poured him a shot as Monica passed out at the foot of the bed. "I can't thank you enough. I don't want to impose on you any more. I should get going," he said, groaning as he tried to get up. "No. I mean, where, uuh it's 1 o'clock in the morning? Stay." she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I do want to help you. Please tell me what happened," she pleaded. "I appreciate that, really I do. And everything you've done for me. It's much more than I deserved. But if I share my story with you, you will be in just as much danger as me. I shouldn't have accepted your help. I shouldn't have gotten you involved." "Well, I am involved," she said, sounding hurt, the alcohol making her more emotional than usual. "Look, I went to all this trouble. All I want are answers. You tell me you were tortured? Brainwashed? And you don't even want these people brought to justice? Just let me help you. Trust me. I'm a reporter, I've got a voice. I've got connections - with a police Sergeant. "I do trust you. I mean, I just met you. But this isn't the kind of thing I should be telling anyone - let alone a reporter. Look, what they did to me was a warning. These people are very powerful. Next time.....Look I just need to disappear." "Fine. You're afraid. I should have just left you there. If you don't care enough to help yourself, Mr. Mulder. I'm sorry, it's none of my business," she said, turning away. Why did was she getting so upset over this, she asked herself. What happened to rational, competent, ace reporter Dana Scully? Begging a witness wasn't very professional. It must be a combination of the whiskey and testosterone that was setting her off-balance. "Look, I'm sorry, hey, please. I'm just not used to anyone giving a damn about me. You might not after I tell you my story, though." "I didn't say I gave a damn about you. I like a good story though. I knew someone in your uhhh, situation, must have something interesting. I was in that alley on a tip for a story about some bootleggers unloading rotgut. I just want people to know the truth about Prohibition. People are not going to stop drinking, period. So shouldn't we have access to pure, er safe - I mean decent alcohol." "You do enjoy decent alcohol yourself," said Mulder, narrowing his eyes at her. "I do, as every American should be able to - legally. But can you believe how much this stuff costs? Pushing it to the black market has made it unsafe as well as way too expensive. I think there's a conspiracy there somewhere - between Congress and the bootlegging industry. They disguise it as a good, moral cause. But it's anything but that. So tell me, I know you're connected to them - you were afraid of the man in the black car. Is he an evil bootlegging conspiracy leader you've pissed off in your fight for justice - by which I mean, the right of every American to drink and not get sick due to rotten alcohol, but only for imbibing too much?" With this, rose her glass and downed the last shot of whiskey. "I see, you already know my story. There's really nothing else to tell." "Nice try. Start at the beginning. How did you get involved with these shady characters?" "You're assuming I'm not a shady character." "Don't let me think about that too hard. Talk. Now." "To start at a point of my first failing... well it all started with a woman." "What was her name?" Scully asked, propping her head in her hands with a dreamy look on her face. "Diana. Diana. I was in the war, I was on leave. She was my buddy's brother. One weekend together, we were engaged. I came back 6 months later to find her very pregnant. I married her." Clutching the kimono, Scully exclaimed: "Was it true love? Or because of the baby? When were in the church, and she walked towards you, did your heart pound with love? When you pledged your life to her, did your soul become one with hers, when you looked in her eyes, was all you could think, yes, this is the only woman I will ever love? What God has joined together-" Mulder cut in: "To answer you, I was trying to foreshadow, when I said my first failing, was that no, it wasn't true love - in fact it ended badly. And, we weren't married in a church. And I didn't feel any of those things, no. I didn't realize I was supposed to." Scully sighed. "Doesn't that make you sad? It makes me sad. When I, well if I ever marry, it will be all those things and more. I'll never marry, unless I happen to find someone I can't live without. Aside from that, what's the point? We're all free spirits you know. And I can support myself. No need to trap a man into marrying me for less than utter devotion." Finally letting go of the kimono, she added "What about the baby?" "Oh well, that part is sad. The baby was still-born, shortly after the wedding. The doctor said it was full-term. And I'd only known her six months. I realized it wasn't mine, which was a relief in a way, but I felt guilty for that too." "Oh, you poor man. Tricked into a marriage to woman you didn't love, with a child that wasn't yours, and then you didn't even get to be a father. Does it get any worse?" "You found me dumped in an alley, remember?" Mulder added dryly. He wasn't sure from one minute to the next whether she was being melodramatic or sarcastic, or both. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. She didn't seem like the same no-nonsense woman who had rescued him and given him a sponge bath earlier. Maybe the sponge bath would be a good thing to ask for now. If only he wasn't so disabled at the moment. Why did he have to meet a woman like this under these circumstances? Damn, he was pathetic. Well, all you're going to get now is her pity, he thought. Might as well milk it for all it's worth. He continued: "And it all started by getting involved with her. Diana's family- her father, brothers, cousins, uncles - they're the Spender clan. The man in the black car was Charles Spender, her father. They run moonshine out of the Haven - their farm upstate-" "The Haven, you mean, the Haven? I knew this story could be big, but, do you mean I'm getting the inside scoop on the most notorious bootleggers in this part of the country? This means money. Money. We'll be able to eat after all," she said, exuberant, choking as she drained the last of the whiskey from the bottle. Mulder watched her, wishing he were in a position to take advantage of the situation, but knowing he really wouldn't have if he could. Maybe he should save his breath for when she'd be able to remember it all - or write it down. "Dana - When you put it that way - I'll tell you everything I know. I owe you that much. My life can't be any more in danger, anyway. But is tomorrow ok? I'm exhausted." "Tomorrow," Scully said, plopping down next to him on the bed, "I want to hear all about the torturing AND the brainwashing." With that, her eyes fell shut, a contented smile on her face. (b.fat): When he woke up, there was a cute little redhead tucked under his arm, her face pressed against his chest. For a moment, he had no idea where he was or what he had gotten himself into. And then he remembered. Spender, the beating, the alleyway ... and her. She had saved him. And now here she was, snuggled up against him, warm and soft. It would have been like heaven if it weren't for the fact that she had drunk nearly half a bottle of whiskey the night before. At her size, there was no telling how much memory loss that could invoke. Dana Scully, that was her name. The hothead New York reporter who was determined to get those no-good black-market bootlegging monkeys and bring them to justice. The hothead New York reporter who was now completely and utterly unconscious. He wondered where her friend had gotten to, the taller dark-haired one. From his horizontal position on the bed, he couldn't see much, but he soon found his answer when he tried to stretch out his leg and found that he was poking her in the ribs. She stirred and mumbled, but did not wake up, just flung her arm over her eyes to block any and all light. He didn't envy the headache she would have when she woke up. Last night had been so exhausting and confusing that he wasn't quite sure if he had caught her name, but he thought it might have been something like Monica. He wondered idly what time it was and looked around the tiny room for a clock. There was a small wind-up one tacked to the wall opposite the bed. It was difficult to read but he saw that it was 9:30. At least one of these ladies must have to get up for work, he thought. Reaching out the arm that was not grasped tightly by the petite reporter, he brushed some hair away from her face and shook her shoulder gently. She startled awake. "Wha..? Wass goin on?" When she looked up to see Mulder and the position that she was in, she gasped and scooted away from him. "What happened?" She asked immediately. He chuckled and shook his head. "I think you drooled on me." She looked mortified and he smiled reassurance. "Just kidding. You fell asleep and now it's morning. That's all." "Where's Monica?" She demanded. He nodded his head towards the foot of the bed and Dana looked to see the woman sprawled unceremoniously beneath a few rumpled blankets. "Have you been awake long?" She asked. He shook his head no in response and looked at the three of them, the picture they made on the bed. "Just a typical night?" He asked, a twinkle of mischievousness in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that he knew she must have patented. "Hardly." She said, staring at him pointedly. "But it is Saturday. There's no telling what kind of madness happens on the weekends." "It is?" He asked with a startled expression. "It's Saturday?" She eyed him carefully and reached out a hand to his forehead, feeling for his temperature. "Boy, you really have been brainwashed." Her tone was filled with concern. And then she remembered the story, and that she didn't know this man at all, and that he was more than likely involved with the very people she was trying to bring to justice, and she pulled away from him quickly, sliding out of the bed and moving to her desk in the other part of the apartment. She picked up a pad of paper and a yellow pencil with the eraser half-chewed off before coming back into the half-room. She pulled over the stool that Monica had brought in the night before and sat down. "So." She said. "Tell me your story." (bcfan): Mulder gazed at Dana for a moment, a sad smile gracing his features. "You've already done so much for me - more than anyone has in a long, long time. I owe you my honesty, but I'm afraid. Once you hear my story you'll see how I have failed in every respect." "Please continue," Dana softly replied, "I want to help, not judge." "All right," Mulder cleared his throat, swallowed self-consciously, and began. "It all started when I attended Oxford, really, right before the War. I was happy there...far away from my family and their troubles, immersed in my studies. I was supposed to be studying literature to become a professor, but became fascinated by the works of the new medical doctor, Sigmund Freud. Have you heard of him?" Dana nodded. "Freud's theories of how to make the unconscious conscious held a strange fascination for me; I've been plagued by nightmares since I was twelve and was almost compelled to read everything I could by Freud, neglecting my other studies. When Father found out, he was furious that I wasn't following in the path we both agreed on and cut off all my monies. Because my family is wealthy, I couldn't get a scholarship. I failed Oxford." "I was afraid to come home and face my family's wrath, and when the Great War began, it seemed an easy choice. I was commissioned as a lieutenant and led a group of men who trusted me into battle. You've seen my shrapnel scar," Mulder stated bitterly. "I was the lucky one. The troops under my command were killed. I woke up under a pile of rubble - when sappers dug me out, I was shell-shocked, afraid to make any decisions at all. I'd failed my men, you see." "But Mr. Mulder - " Dana interrupted. "No please, Miss Scully, let me go on and finish this ugly story of my life." Mulder squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to hold back tears, then continued. "I told you I was home on leave when I met Diana...but I was home because I was too weak-willed to continue. Father said I was a coward, and he was right. This is why, when Diana pursued me and insisted on marriage, I went along with it. Why should I deserve love and happiness when I was guilty for so many deaths?" Mulder bowed his head and curled his arms around his body, hugging himself and rocking. Scully tentatively reached out and touched Mulder's shoulder. "I've heard nothing that has lessened my opinion of you, Mr. Mulder. Can you continue, or would you like to rest?" she murmured kindly. Directing his gaze resolutely at the floor, Mulder whispered, "No, I, I want to tell you. I've never talked of this before...I should be punished for my crimes. When Diana's father, Charles Spender, insisted that I join in his family business, I agreed. I knew bootlegging was wrong, but didn't care. It was only when I realized that people were dying because of rotten liquor that I confronted Spender and told him I would go to the police. Later that same evening I was dragged away from my bed to a room I never wish to see again, where I was confined and beaten. They wouldn't let me sleep. I - I think I lost my mind." Mulder's hand began to convulsively knead the sheets. "Spender would come to where I was held every now and then to remind me that I was a bootlegger too, and equally guilty for any deaths. He's right of course." Mulder shuddered. "I don't know how long this went on. Then suddenly yesterday, those two thugs pulled me from my room and dropped me in the alley." Dana stared at the figure before her. Mulder's suffered so much, she realized. If she could help in any way - "Why would they let you go?" Dana wondered aloud. "It doesn't make sense." "I don't know," Mulder replied. "I only know how lucky I was that you were there........Wait a minute - why were you there?" "I told you I was a reporter," stated Scully firmly. "I was tipped off about a bootleg operation." "Is it possible that someone wanted you to find me - to implicate you in all this?" Mulder stared, horrified, at Scully. Scully could only stare back in consternation and growing unease. What was going on here? (xandria): Mulder shifted uncomfortably on the bed, groaning. "Are you ok?" Scully asked. "Oh, just my leg. It aches. I don't think they ever got all the shrapnel out, and it never healed properly," he said wincing. Scully was already at the dresser drawer, rummaging for something. "Here," she said, holding up a tin of ointment. "My mother swears by this stuff for curing all aches and pains." Sitting down beside him and pushing the kimono aside to get at the area - which was farther up on his thigh than she had previously realized - she began to rub, kneading the sore muscles of his leg. "I'm not sure if its the ointment or you're hands, but that - feels - great," Mulder panted, laying his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes. As Scully continued to massage the muscles, she began to become aware that he really was appreciating her efforts. A slight movement caught her eye, and as it began to continue to rise, with nothing to restrain it, she couldn't help but stare. Just like her mother told her nice girls didn't bring men home, girls didn't give men dressed in kimonos leg massages. She was beginning to re- think her definition of nice. What she was looking at was definitely nice. indeed. Well, nice didn't begin to describe it, but her brain wasn't really able to wrap itself any other words at the moment. She could only continue to rub and stare. Mulder opened his eyes, suddenly aware of what the rest of his body was doing. He sat up, grabbing her hands, but in the process flipped away the part of the robe that was covering what he was intending to conceal. "Sorry-" "OPEN UP, POLICE!" an authoritative voice boomed, at the same instant the door was kicked in. "HANDS UP!" Monica, who had been snoring soundly, jumped up, screaming, looking from the exposed man on the bed with his hands up to the three individuals who were now standing in the middle of her apartment, back to the exposed man, put her hands up and continued screaming. "Calm down, ma'am" said one of the officers, and Monica finally stopped screaming. "Sergeant Skinner? Constable Pendrell? What are you doing in my apartment?" asked an outraged Scully. "And what are you doing in bed with my husband? No, I can see, what you were doing. Cover yourself Fox, " said the woman as she walked over and pulled the sheet over his lap. "It's not what you think, Diana, but that's not for your sake, only for Dana's, " Mulder said coldly. "Dana is it? Good. I've got witnesses now to your infidelity, for when I divorce you and take everything you've got." "All right, that's enough," Sgt. Skinner said walking over to the bed and taking out his handcuffs. "I'm sorry about all this, Miss Scully. But I'm more sorry to find out of your involvement with him." he said, glaring at Mulder. Before Scully could respond, he continued: "Fox Mulder, I am placing you under arrest for violation of the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution." *** Dana Scully was pacing the floor while Monica sat on the bed, flicking the ashes of her cigarette out the window. She couldn't get the image of Mulder, limping out the door, handcuffed, wearing nothing but a kimono, with a nagging wife at his heels out of her mind. Constable Pendrell had stayed behind for a moment, trying to explain. "This woman came to me asking if I'd seen any sign of her missing husband. She described him and said he was injured, and I realized he must be the same man I helped bring to your apartment. When she mentioned his name, I realized he was a wanted felon and I had to let Sgt. Skinner know. We were both afraid for you, thinking of you alone with this man. Did he hurt either of you?" Scully didn't want to go over her humiliation again. Her rage was beginning to seethe. "Constable Pendrell, I considered you a friend, I trusted you. No more. Now. Please. leave. my apartment." Scully glared at him until he backed through the door and she kicked it shut behind him. "Is it true, is he really a criminal?" Monica pondered. "Do you think we were really in danger? And what were you guys doing anyway? I mean, I was asleep, but you know, uh, I was still there." Ignoring Monica's inquisition, Scully thought for a moment. Were they right? Had he lied to her? No, she thought. He had been honest about his marriage and his involvement in illegal activities. She still wanted to help him then, and she still wanted to now. "We need to bail him out. Where can we get the money?" "Dane, seeing as we have about 2 dollars between us, have no food, are only semi-employed and are already late on the rent, I don't know how you can talk about bailing him out." "You said you wanted to keep him, right? Well so do I. There must be some way to get the money. We can't leave him in jail." Scully thought, hard. There was no one. She couldn't go to her parents. They had seven children still at home. Nothing to spare. Monica was an orphan. They had both gotten through Vassar on scholarships and through patronesses who in turn, watched everything they did while in college. Now they were completely on their own. Who could they go to for money with no questions asked? "Who was that rich Russian guy you went out with last night?" Scully asked, brightening. "Alex Krycek?" "Yes, Alex. What's his number?" (bfat): "Um... hold- hold on, I'll get it." Monica stood up from the bed, a little confused, and walked over to her purse. She began digging through the contents until she came up with a small yellow corner of a piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn from a larger sheet. On it was printed "Alex Krycek" and beneath that, a local number. "But what do you want it for? You're not going to ask him for money are you? I don't even know the guy!" Dana walked over to Monica and looked directly up at her; her expression became very serious. Despite her small size, she seemed very intimidating to Monica at that particular moment. "This is about a man's life." Dana said, very slowly and clearly. "If Mulder was connected to the men at the Haven and now the police mysteriously have his name, that means that this man Spender, or someone working for him, leaked his name. For all we know, Spender may even control the police. There's no telling what could happen to him in that jail cell, or what may have already happened. We need to get him out of there as soon as we can." She held out her hand and Monica quickly put the paper with the phone number into it. "Okay." She said nervously, then stepped out of the way so Dana could get to the telephone. After a few minutes, Dana slammed the receiver down with a frustrated growl. "Damnit! His phone has been disconnected!!" Monica's eyes registered her shock and confusion as she moved over to the phone to try herself. Receiving the same response as Dana, she turned to face the other woman, a look of utter cluelessness on her face. "But I don't understand! I called him last night and the number worked fine!" She shook her head in frustration. "Dana, what in the hell is going on here? It seems like everything is connected in one giant circle or something." "Or one giant conspiracy." Dana added. "Come on, let's go down to the police station. Maybe Mulder knows something that he didn't tell us. Or maybe I can get something out of Constable Pendrell." "I know how you could get it out of him." Monica said with a smirk. Dana just gave her a stern glare and picked up her jacket from the coat rack. "Let's go." With that, the two women walked out of the apartment and began towards the station. *** "My name is Dana Scully, I'm with the Times. I'm here to see Fox Mulder." Dana held up her "PRESS" card. The guard took it from her, eyed it carefully, and then handed it back to her. "Go on in." He said. Monica was right behind her, but the guard stopped her before she could pass. "Who are you?" "She's with me." Dana said. "Unless she's an accredited member of the press, a lawyer, a doctor, or a direct familial relation of the prisoner, I'm afraid I can't let her in." Dana and Monica looked at each other for a moment. "I'll wait here." Monica said and moved to sit in an uncomfortable chair in the lobby area of the police station. Dana nodded and continued on, led by a second guard. When they reached the poorly lit cell where Fox Mulder was being kept, Dana couldn't see the man she was looking for at first. And then she spotted him, curled up on a cot in a darkened corner of the cell. His clothes had been changed, and he now wore the drab and loose-fitting clothing of a prisoner. Dana wondered briefly what had become of her kimono. The sound of the sliding bars made Mulder jump, and he quickly turned to face the entering guests. Dana immediately noticed a new bruise forming on his left cheek and she rushed to his side, cradling his head and brushing her fingers just below the bruise. He pulled his head back quickly in pain. "Sorry." She said. She heard the guard closing and locking the door behind her and turned to make eye contact with Mulder. "What happened?" "Looks like I'm not too popular around here either." He drawled. Dana did not even smile, just looked at him with great concern. "Hey, at least the wardrobe is more fitting now, right? I'm sorry about losing your kimono. I think one of the guards wanted to try it on." She smirked a little, and Mulder rejoiced inwardly. He didn't like seeing her look so upset. "So how come they let you in?" "I'm an 'accredited member of the press.'" She said, holding up her credentials for him to see. He nodded. "I passed your wife coming into the building. I don't think she likes me too much." Mulder laughed at that. "No, probably not. She thinks you were trying to seduce me." Dana blushed, but was thankful for the dim lighting that hid it from Mulder. She sighed, remembering Monica waiting outside, and got to the point of her visit. "I've got some questions... questions about the connections between all of this." She made a gesture with her hand, indicating the situation they were all in. "I need to know if there's anything else. Anything you didn't tell me... anything about a man named Alex Krycek." Mulder gasped at the sound of the name, and Dana knew that she had found something. She reached out a hand to hold onto his and looked into his eyes with a serious expression. "Tell me about Alex Krycek." She said. (bcfan): Chapter 3 As Scully rode the streetcar across town, from the jail cell to her newspaper office, she had time for reflection. Mulder, after his initial shock at hearing Krycek's name, didn't know much - but what he did know was disturbing. Krycek seemed to be a mysterious, wealthy figure on the edges of Diana's social "set", who would turn up at irregular intervals with presents and good cheer for everyone, attend parties and weekend get togethers, and then mysteriously disappear again for long intervals. It was rumored that many a young socialite had enjoyed the comforts of Krycek's attentions (Mulder even suspected his wife had done so) but nothing could be proven. Mulder also knew Krycek's in-town address, a suite of rooms at the Waldorf-Astoria. Armed with this knowledge, Monica had left immediately, promising to make up "some excuse" to borrow cash - and bail Mulder out of jail. Dana fervently hoped that Monica would be lucky - she had to get Mulder out of there as quickly as possible, before he was harmed even more. As Scully swayed with the rhythm of the streetcar, she thought about Mulder. Fox, as Diana called him. There was just something about Mulder that both attracted and concerned her, despite his own harsh self-evaluation. When she wasn't enjoying a drink or two...or three, Scully was a professional, able to study facts clearly and use her scientific reasoning skills to logically put the pieces of a story together. Why not use the resources of the greatest newspaper in North America - the N.Y. Times - to help her find out the truth? Scully wore a determined smile as she alit from the streetcar, crossed the street, and entered the Times building, but instead of climbing the stairs to her office she headed to the basement and her trio of favorite researchers. "Hello boys," she drawled, poking her head into their messy work area. "Miss Scully," crowed the shortest man, Frohike. "It's a pleasure to see your beautiful face again!" Scully laughed as the trio walked closer, then took a breath. Her expression sobered. "I have very important research for you, important and secret. There may be graft involved at the highest levels. It has to do with the infamous Haven and a man named Fox Mulder." John Byers, the second researcher, spoke immediately. "I know Fox Mulder. I first met him in a pub in London. He has a brilliant but eccentric intellect, and had just left Oxford because he had no money to continue." Scully replied, "Mulder told me about that." "Did he tell you that, a few weeks after leaving Oxford, he helped solve a difficult case for Scotland Yard?" Byers continued. "Mulder used some ideas from his readings at Oxford, analyzed the motivations behind a locally famous murder, and led the police to the killer." Scully was shocked, and turned to address the trio, "Mulder told me that he had failed at Oxford, and failed in the War...he also mentioned his father." Byers shook his head in bemusement. "Most of us try to show our best side to others; Mulder, in his heart, focuses on his perceived failures and never considers his successes. I have a feeling from our pub conversations that his father might have something to do with that." Byers paused, thinking - then continued, "Langly, please hand me that green book on you desk, the one about U.S. war decorations." Langly complied, and Byers flipped through the book till he found the right page, then handed the open book to Scully. As Scully read the page, her eyes widened. There was Lieutenant Fox Mulder's name - and after, was a list of citations for bravery under fire. "I never guessed," Scully whispered to herself. Then looked up. "Please - tell me all that you know about Mulder." Byers shrugged. "I don't know much more. I do know that his company was wiped out - he was the only survivor. It must have been horrible, to be trapped for hours under a collapsed trench with the bodies of your friends. I went to visit him in the V.A. hospital when they shipped him home, and he couldn't talk. He just lay, mute and shivering. I heard later that he went in for an operation to finish removing the shrapnel in his leg, and that the surgeon nicked his femoral artery. He almost died, and I don't think they were ever able to finish the job. Next time I went for a hospital visit, Mulder was gone; I couldn't contact him. Mulder's father had insisted that he have home nursing, and my letters were returned." "Now that I know this, I'm even more determined to find out the truth and help Mr. Mulder!" Scully declared. She then told the trio all that she knew, from her first sighting of his prone body in the alley to Mulder's arrest. "We're right on it," Frohike declared - and the other echoed his sentiments. Byers pressed a ten dollar bill into Scully's hand. "I have some savings," he murmured, "please use this to help Mulder." Scully was touched by the gesture - and feeling more jubilant. With whatever she and her research team discovered, surely Mulder would be rescued and the truth uncovered. Then Scully sobered - time was of the essence, something needed to be done NOW. What should she do next? (Lissy Ratz) "What do you mean it doesn't exist?" Dana asked, and Monica did all she could to explain. "When I got there they said no Alex Krycek was staying there. Like his phone number, it's gone like it never existed at all." "Well now what are we supposed to do about Mulder? Alex was our only best hope." "I don't know, maybe you could talk to Mulder again. Maybe his wife will bail him out." "I doubt it, but it's worth a shot." Dana said as she grabbed her coat and headed back to the jail. ********* Dana tried to explain what happened to Mulder, but he only nodded as if he's heard the story already. "Here is not the place to be discussing Alex Krycek. " he nodded toward the a guard that was obviously spying on them, but as Dana turned around the guard averted his gaze and nonchalantly walked away. "Okay. But I need to figure out a way to get you out of here." "No, you don't." He said very sure of himself. "What do you mean? Of course I do" "Dana you've been very kind, and I appreciate that, but I don't need to be getting you mixed up in this mess. Trust me, it's goes much deeper than either of us can imagine. Besides I'm probably safer in here than out there." "Really fuckin' safe" She said annoyed, while brushing her thumb against his bruise. He held her hand that caressed his face and looked her in the eye seriously. "Dana, don't worry about me. I don't want to scare you, but the fact that you even know who I am, puts you in danger. Look out for yourself, and Monica. I know what I'm doing." He thought for a second then finally chose to reveal something that he early decided to keep a secret. "Fine, if it makes you feel any better; I'm getting out of here in two weeks. This Alex Krycek guy you think you know- well he's getting me out, he's paying my way out in return I can never speak of what I know. That means you." She looked hurt, but was relieved for him. Silently she wondered when exactly she became more concerned for his well being than the big story he promised. "Where will you go?" "Some place remote. Moving west seems like the thing to do." "And your wife?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "As of tomorrow morning I am a divorcee, I am then also a poor man." He lied back on his bed leaving Dana standing by his bed. He did it purposely, it gave her the option to leave. He was betting she would take his gesture as an end to the conversation. But as he soon learned, nothing was over until she said it was. She sat down on the bed and leaned over him seductively. This caught his attention and as he began to sit up, she pushed him down again. "I know there's something big here and I'm going to find out what it is, whether you help me or not. But I have to admit," She said brushing her lips across his jaw bone, "I'd like you to help." She pulled back and looked him in the eye. He was utterly stunned at this woman. As she left his cell, the guard that was pretending not to watch them dropped his jaw at Scully as she swayed her hips as she walked away from then cell. Then he turned to Mulder who continued to sit on his bed with a crazy little grin on. (bcfan): *~*~*~* Mulder relaxed back onto the hard bunk of his cell, smiling broadly. At this moment I feel happy, he thought, surprised - and I haven't felt this way for a long, long time. It's all a matter of perspective, Mulder mused idly. After his beating and torture, this jail cell felt benign. He'd slept more in the past two days than he had in previous weeks. And the bland jail food, normally unpalatable, had tasted like manna to a starving man. Mulder realized with a start, however, that the most vital reason for his happiness was the person who had just left - Dana Scully. Mulder was attracted to her like no other in his life. He was attracted to her beauty and vibrant personality, her intelligence, her sense of justice - but mostly, Mulder basked in the knowledge that there was now one person who (despite all the shortcomings he revealed to her) would stand up for him. Mulder began to hope that, at this moment, Dana Scully might even care for him as he was beginning to deeply care for her. That's why I have to protect her, he thought; this evil goes beyond bootlegging, and I don't want her endangered in any way. As Mulder heard the ring of footsteps on concrete approach his cell, he stood, determined, ready to face his future. (bfat): He watched as the door slid open and from behind the guard emerged Alex Krycek. He stepped into the small cell, clad all in black. In the dim light, it made his eyes look even darker. He mumbled something to the guard who nodded and then shut the door quickly, disappearing from Mulder's view. Krycek walked over and stood before the man in prison clothes. "I saw your little reporter friend on the way in. I heard she's been trying to contact me." Krycek said. Mulder nodded. "She wanted to help me. She thought you might be able to." "The only person who can help you, Mulder, is yourself." "How's that?" Mulder asked. He was trying to sound confident, but he knew the power that Krycek held in this situation. "By not telling her what you know." "Which is what, exactly? It seems to me I don't know much of anything. But you... you're just a fountain of information, Krycek. Why don't you tell me what *you* know?" Krycek just looked at him calmly and coolly. When he spoke it was in subdued tones, almost a whisper. "You know more than you think, Mulder." The Russian said cryptically. Mulder did not respond, just waited for the other man to continue. "Do you think all this is a coincidence? Do you think you're here by chance?" "What do you mean?" "Why do you think your father hasn't spoken to you in almost a year?" Krycek asked mysteriously. "What are you saying? Are you saying he's *in* on this?" Mulder was incredulous. The insinuation that his father had something to do with this was preposterous... impossible. "Why do you think he sent you away to England? He didn't want you getting involved in this whole mess... but look where you are. In a prison cell. All busted up by the very man your father sent you away to avoid." Mulder just stared at him, a shocked expression on his face. "You've met Mr. Spender by now, I'm sure. Diana's father, the head of all of this bootlegging business at the Haven. But did you know that your father has known him since before you were born? They haven't spoken in years, but..." "... but the connection is there." Mulder finished. He thought about this for a few moments and then looked back up at the dark-haired Russian. "What does any of this have to do with bad liquor? It's been making people sick... killing them. Why?" "Has anyone established a cause of death?" Mulder thought back to what he had read about the victims in the newspapers. "No... they're just dead. No explanation, except that they'd all recently bought bootlegged whiskey. And the whiskey was found at the scene of every death." "Now what on earth would a group of powerful men want with something that would create an indiscernible cause of death?" "You're saying these men are creating an undetectable poison that they can use on their enemies?" Mulder asked. "Think bigger, Mr. Mulder. Think global." Mulder stared at him for a few moments and then his eyes went wide. "They're doing this for the government? To use in war?" Alex Krycek said nothing. "It's some sort of biological warfare, isn't it? Like the mustard gas they used in the war?" Again, Krycek said nothing and Mulder sank down onto the cot that was behind him. It was so much to process. How could he not have known that his father was somehow involved? And why would anyone want *him* involved? He looked back over at Krycek. There was one thing he couldn't quite figure out. "How do you fit into all of this?" "You don't need to know everything, Mulder. Let's just say that the man who developed that poison doesn't wear red white and blue on the Fourth of July." With that, he turned towards the bars and called for the guard who came back immediately with the key. "Hold on," Mulder said, "there has to be more. What does my father have to do with all of this? How does he know Spender?" Krycek didn't answer, just walked from the cell and let the guard close the sliding door behind him. "Wait!" Mulder yelled. Krycek turned to face him, but didn't let him speak any more. "Good-bye, Mulder." And with that he was gone. (xandria): Chapter 4 Dana Scully stood in a half-awake daze as she rode the streetcar towards work. After a restless night of dreams that left her empty and aching, she had woken up an hour late with only enough time to burn her mouth on bitter black coffee - they couldn't afford cream - before rushing off to work. Lucky Monica, she was a school- teacher and was off work until the fall - she spent her days trying to write and sell poetry. Scully couldn't help but compare how much better she had slept the night before - with Mulder in her bed. When she came home to find Monica changing the sheets on the bed she had secretly snagged a pillowcase out of the laundry bag and slept with it all night, breathing in deeply his scent. She imagined he was there beside her - and what would have happened if no one had walked in. The last visit to the jail kept haunting her, her mind kept coming up with alternate endings. Instead of leaving after pushing him back on his jail room cot, she Climbed on top of him, pulling her dress over her head, and began to slowly unbutton his jail jumpsuit. As the agonizing pace drove him mad, he pulled her head down, devouring her mouth, engulfing her, as her hand slid further down the jumpsuit. Monica, sleeping next to her, had woken her up in the night: "Dana, you're moaning. Are you coming on to me?" "What? No. Oh." "Not that I'd have a problem with that, but uh, anyway," she said, sounding disappointed. "Sorry Monica, it's not you." "Yeah, I figured it was him. Please, do yourself a favor, and sleep with him before you drive yourself crazy. Admit it, you don't really care about any story - you're just in love. He could say anything to you, turn out to be any kind of bastard, and it wouldn't change a thing." "Monica, I thought you-" "Liked him? I do, he's a damn good looking man, and he needs to be taken care of. I'm just saying get it out of your system, sleep with him, and see if you still feel the same or if he doesn't turn out like every other creep. And don't say you have to be a "nice girl" - it's 1922." Still wondering if Monica's words were true, Scully walked through the cluttered newsroom toward her little desk in the corner. Lost in thought, she returned the broad smiles and nods of her co-workers and plunked herself down in front of her typewriter. A note was propped up over the keys: Ms Scully, please see me in my office. - Mr. Blevins. Mr. Blevins, the Editor-in-Chief. Probably wanted an update on the bootlegging scandal feature she had promised. Well she was getting somewhere, she thought. All the information Mulder had given her, the Alex Krycek connection, had left her spinning in circles. She wanted the truth, and she hoped her awakening "feelings" for the prime subject of her story weren't getting in the way of getting her story done. She would have to come up with something to tell Mr. Blevins. Her mind ran a mile-a-minute as she knocked on the office door. "Come in, Miss Scully," he said calmly. "and can you shut the door?" Scully smoothed her skirt and sat down in the leather chair. "So, it seems our new little reporter likes to star in the headlines instead of writing them, eh, Miss Scully," he said as he tossed a copy of the New York Post toward her. "I'm assuming you haven't seen this, or you wouldn't have the balls to show your face in this office," he said with a sneer. Scully stared at the headline. She held steady as she read the headline: Haven Bootlegging Ringleader Arrested Then in smaller print below it: Fox Mulder Discovered in Hiding at the residence of his Mistress' A huge 8 by 10 picture of Mulder, handcuffed, in front of the jail, wearing her kimono. Smaller below it, was her college graduation picture. Skimming the article, which summarized Mulder's military career, his marriage to Diana, and accused him of being the Haven leader, who police authorities had tracked carefully to the home of his mistress, one Miss Dana Scully, Vassar graduate, formerly of Boston, MA, now a reporter for the NY Times. It did mention that there was no evidence that Miss Scully had any connection to the bootlegging operation, and the deaths of many people, but it painted her as a horrible adulteress nonetheless. The article ended with a quote from Diana, stating that she was shocked to learn of his arrest while at the home of his mistress. "No one can understand how humiliating it is for your husband to be arrested wearing women's nightclothes while in the company of his mistress. We are in the process of divorcing, due to his criminal behavior and severe mental cruelty; but this is beyond disgusting. Since the government no longer put adulterers in jail, I can have no justice against this woman who stole my husband and turned him to a life of crime." Dana looked up, at Blevins, determined to betray no emotion. "You know that's crap," she said. "Do I? I want to believe you Miss Scully, but it doesn't matter if I do or not. Having a whore working at this paper is bad for business. I have a reputation to uphold here at the Times. It's nothing personal. Please clean out your desk and leave." (b.fat): Mulder woke to the sound of the barred door sliding open. The men had taken his watch back at the Haven, before beating him up, but he knew that it was not early. He'd already been paid quite a few visits today, so he couldn't think who could possibly be coming to see him now. When he saw that it was Dana again, he was shocked, but in a wonderful elated way. Until he saw that she was crying. Her nose was red and she was sniffling, wiping at her eyes and nose with a handkerchief. "Dana, what's wrong?" He asked, and just at the sound of his voice, she began to cry harder. He stood up and walked over to her, leading her back to sit beside him on his cot. "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? How far does this thing go?" She asked through her sobs. He pulled her against his chest and let her cry as much as she needed to. When she had calmed down a bit, she heaved a sigh and collected herself well enough to tell him. "I've been fired." She said, wiping the last of her tears on her handkerchief and tucking it away in her pocket. "What? Why?" Mulder pulled away from her so he could look into her eyes. She reached into her purse and pulled out the newspaper clipping that Blevins had shown her. After skimming through it quickly, he turned to face her again. "None of this is true." He said. "How could they print this?" "How could they do any of this? How could they lock up an innocent man?" She looked at him with such sadness in her eyes, he thought his heart might just break in two. "I think I might know." He said, sadly. "What do you mean?" She asked. "Alex Krycek came to see me earlier today. He told me some things." She looked at him hopefully and he took her hand in both of his before telling her everything that he had learned from Krycek, despite the man's specific warnings not to share the information with his new friend. "That's unbelievable." Dana said. "Do you know what this could mean?" Mulder shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "We can't tell anyone. They'll kill us. They certainly have the means... I wasn't even supposed to tell *you*." She reached out with the hand not grasped by his to lift his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Then why did you?" Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears in the dim lighting of the room. "Because for some reason I can't explain, I trust you more than anyone else I know. I told you because I have no one else to tell. And because I think that if anyone can help me, if anyone can stop this evil that has infiltrated the world, it's you. I barely know you and yet I feel like I can trust you more than I trust myself." Dana's lower lip was trembling and a tear slipped from her eye to slide down her cheek, this time for an entirely different reason. Mulder reached out a hand and wiped it with his thumb. "I feel the same way." She said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. "Though I have no idea why." She smiled at him with wet eyes and he let go of her hand to cup her cheeks with both hands. Their eyes were locked and they knew that this was the moment. It had to be now. He leaned forward on the cot, eyes fluttering shut, and pressed his lips against hers. (bcfan): As their kiss deepened, Mulder clutched Dana against him almost desperately. A part of him was lost in this moment of passion, another part...Mulder felt something loosen inside, as he sensed a deep feeling of completion. She is mine, he wondered, and I am hers. The arousal between their bodies became fervent and obvious. Mulder pulled back slightly. "Dana..." he gasped, and gazed intently at her flushed face. "Fox..." Dana stuttered, smiling. As Mulder gently stroked her cheek, he murmured, "Not Fox, please. I loathe the way Diana says it. Can you think of something else?" "Mulder for now," Dana smirked. "I'll explore new nicknames later! And there will be a later." She winked. Mulder smiled back, as Dana continued, "I think that this is what we should do, Mulder. It's obvious that no one has your best interests at heart here" ("except you," Mulder muttered, and Dana blushed). "I have $10.00 already collected from your friend John Byers, for the Fox Mulder Defense Fund. I think that I should use it to help you escape!" "My god," Mulder exclaimed, "that's so generous of John." "It is - I'll wager that $10.00 is several weeks pay for one of these guards. Perhaps a bribe - " "- not the day guards, they could be bribed, but they like to hit me too much," Mulder wryly shrugged. "However, the night guard is a colored gentleman named Reggie Purdue. He's alone at night, and has been kind to me. Perhaps he would help.....But stop and consider, Dana. If you arrange this, you'll be putting yourself in danger. The police will come after you as a suspect." Mulder scowled. "I don't want to endanger you in any way." "Then I'll come with you! - No, my mind's made up, and you'll soon find out how determined I can be!" Dana's eyes sparkled, and Mulder could only shrug in acquiescence. "Now let's be practical. You'll need clothes, and we'll need transportation - I don't think we can make an escape by streetcar," Dana continued. "John Byers is about your size, maybe he would lend you his clothes...I'll arrange everything, and see you tonight." Both Mulder and Scully stood, and Mulder placed her hand over his heart, giving it a squeeze. "Be careful Dana - and thank you. Thank you for taking care of me." With one last quick kiss, Scully called for the guard, then strode determinedly out of Mulder's cell. Mulder touched his lips with his fingers, already lost in the memory of their first kiss. He couldn't wait to see what the night would bring. (xandria): Chapter 5 Scully hurried up the steps of the jail. The full moon glared down at her, and she prayed a silent prayer to it that everything would go well for them. Doubts sprung out at her. Is this really a good idea? How am I going to pull this off? Along with the $10 from John Byers, she had raised an additional $15 through pawning almost everything she owned. Her final paycheck from the Times gained her an additional $7.50. How much would be enough to bribe a guard? She had purchased one-way tickets on the midnight train to Los Angeles for $10. Although Byers had lent a suit of clothes for Mulder, she wasn't sure what to do about shoes. He couldn't very well escape and blend in with his jail-issued canvas footwear. She had forgotten to ask his size, but remembering his big feet she was sure he wouldn't fit into the size 10 pair Byers had given. Going through the heavy door marked "New York City Municipal Jail" she again had second thoughts. Was she thinking rationally? Was this really a good idea? A few days ago she had been a working girl with a normal life, poor, but relatively happy. Now she was jobless, poorer, and infamous - her brother Bill hadn't hesitated to call and tell her not to bother to come home to Boston again - Mom and Dad didn't need the humiliation, and neither did she. Her family had never really forgiven her for going to college and living in the city instead of marrying and having babies like her sisters Melissa and Sheila had done. And what good had college done her anyway? She was - she already had, thrown it away on her chance decision to help a stranger in an alley. She couldn't go back now. She wasn't sure she wanted to. Somehow, the reality of what she lost was softened by her emotions. She was in love. In love. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter that she was about to commit a federal crime - it was all for the man she loved and desperately wanted to be with. Hadn't she covered stories like this? Law-abiding women who got caught and sent up the river for helping their criminal boyfriends. Her rational mind never understood them - until now. She could be out, like Monica, in a jazz club, having a good time, living it up, going to work tomorrow; but instead she was going to be on the lam running across the country with an escaped prisoner. Not just *any* escaped prisoner, she mused, remembering the urgency of his kiss, the feel of his body. The thought of tasting him again, being alone with him, made it all worthwhile. Didn't it? "Can I help you?" said the night guard at the front counter, whom Scully assumed must be Reggie Purdue. "Visiting hours are over." "I know, I was, uh, just hoping you could send a message to a prisoner for me," Scully said, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and waving it towards him. Reggie eyed the money inquisitively and raised an eyebrow at Scully. "Ah - I recognize you, you're the mistress," he said, in an almost complimentary way. "Well, I have some news for you. Mr. Mulder posted bail two hours ago." "Oh," she said, confused and embarrassed and angry all at once. She quickly stuffed the ten dollar bill she had so ungallantly flaunted back in her purse. She would never, ever try to blackmail anyone again until she was sure they had what she wanted. "Do you know who posted his bail?" "Says here 'Diana Mulder' I believe that's his wife. If you want my advice, I think you should stay away. Let them patch things up, if she's willing to forgive. Can't you find yourself any single fellas who ain't been arrested?" "It's none of your business, but their divorce was supposed to be final today. The hearing was probably postponed and she bailed him out so he could attend and the divorce would go through. Not because they're patching things up, " Scully said as she turned and exited the building. Why oh why had she defended herself? Why did she have to justify her relationship with him - or her actions. She had done nothing wrong. Note to self: stony silence is always the best answer for those who insult you. Back outside the jailhouse steps, she looked up again at the moon. Frustrated and confused, she began to make her way towards the streetcar. As she passed a large sycamore tree, something jumped out and grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth so she couldn't scream. (Lissy Ratz): "You're a persistent little bitch aren't you?" A male voice harshly whispered to her. "You don't need to worry about Mulder anymore. So why don't you just walk away quietly and we'll spare you your life." Dana struggled against him but it was futile. She even tried to bite the hand that was covering her mouth, but that only resulted in a tighter hold around her body and arms. "Don't bother looking for him, he's a dead man. Diana's father didn't much appreciate that article." She froze at the news. No, it can't be, She thought. She was so overwhelmed with the information that she almost didn't notice the man releasing her. No, This is not happening. He can't be dead. "Dasvidania girlie-girl" Krycek said, before he grabbed a fist full of her red hair and pulled her head toward his. He aggressively kissed her- silencing a scream she couldn't yet voice. He faded into the shadows again and she was left alone with her spinning mind. Too much devastation for one day. She had run out of tears already. she could only stare blankly into the darkness outside the New York City Municipal Jail. As she looked around wondering what she was supposed to do now, something caught her eye. Someone was swiftly jumping between the tree's shadows as Krycek had been. She squinted and knew it was time to choose: fight or flight? Deciding she had nothing left to loose she followed the figure, unabandon by her natural journalistic curiosity. "There he is!" She heard Krycek say from about 15 yards behind her. The figure stopped then began to run. She ran after it, and for a moment allowed herself to admit that she was following the figure because she hoped it was Mulder. They ran like that, for nearly ten minutes. Over fences and down scantly lit allies. Dana turned around to see if Krycek and his goonies were gaining on them, and in that short time she lost track of the man they were chasing. she stopped midway in an unfamiliar ally. Dogs barked, a couple were having a fight in apartment next to her, but no sign of the man she hoped was him. Dana walked to the corner of the building, but was taken by surprise when someone picked her off the ground. She thought Krycek had caught up and now would kill her for sure. She let out a shrill cry but then again so did the wife in the next apartment, and no one was rushing to her aid. He pulled her on the fire escape where he was handing from. He set her down and put his index finder over her lips, gently. "Hey" Mulder whispered. "Hey" She said, too relieved think of their next move. They sat in silence for a while, waiting. Then, with another single to be silent, they jumped down and ran again, this time toward the train station. They ran through the middle of the night like an escaped convict and his mistress would. Like Infinity was in front of them, and Infamy was behind them. (bcfan): As Mulder and Scully sprinted cross town towards the train station, she sensed that her partner was faltering. Glancing at Mulder, Scully felt a pang as she realized that his slight limp was developing into a stagger. She surreptitiously glanced at Mulder's sweat-streaked and pale face, how he bit his lips to suppress moans of pain. He's not well, she realized, but he'll never give up until I do. She skidded to a halt. "Wait," she gasped, "This is crazy. I can't run any longer." Mulder shot her a grateful look and leaned, breathing heavily, against a brick building. "We have to get out of here," he panted. "You're in too much danger." Clutching his arm, Scully nodded. "We're both in danger...but we have to get some help. I have a friend in the next block." Walking at a quick pace towards her friend's flat, Scully explained, "Her name is Holly, and she's the executive secretary at the N.Y. Times. She was living with an arrogant bastard who tried to push her around - and she left a size 7 heel mark on his face! I think he might have left some of his things there that you can use." When they arrived, Mulder gratefully followed Scully's lead as she rang her friend's flat, and entered the tasteful apartment. "Dana!" Holly exclaimed, "And this is - ?" "A friend", Scully stated firmly. "I've brought a change of clothes for him. Do you have some "left over" shoes and shaving supplies he could use?" "Sure do," Holly replied. "I knew there was a reason I didn't throw all that stuff out!" As Mulder changed in the next room, Dana explained what they needed. "I'll be happy to drive you to the train station, Dana." Holly sympathized. "You were my only shoulder to lean on when times were tough for me." After briefly gathering further supplies in an old duffel Holly had in her closet, the trio settled into Holly's Packard and were soon on their way - but Holly stuttered to a halt as they approached the station. "I don't like the look of this," Mulder muttered, "there appear to be cops all around the station." Mulder and Scully sunk lower in their seats. "I'll scout this situation out," Holly volunteered. "Holly, if it looks too dangerous, can you cash in our tickets for us?" Scully begged. Holly slid out of the car, leaving Scully and Mulder hunched low. She soon returned clenching a ten dollar bill. "The place is swarming with cops," she told them. "What do you want to do now?" Scully glanced at Mulder, then decided. "My friend and I need to talk - and plan. Can you drive us to a cheap hotel?" Holly dropped her friend, and her friend's friend, outside the Biltmore Hotel in a less desirable part of the city. As Scully exited, she turned and impulsively hugged Holly through the car's open window. "Thanks for everything," she exclaimed. "And Holly, please don't mention any of this to a soul - it's too dangerous." Holly nodded, then drove away. Mulder looked wan, but gave Scully an encouraging grin. "A cheap hotel - good idea, Dana. I could get used to this with you." Both smiled, and after paying $.45 for accommodations, entered the shabby room. Mulder sank to the floor next to the bed, seemingly unable to take another step. Scully relaxed on the bed and waited, happy despite their dire circumstances. I'm right where I want to be, she thought. Here, with Mulder, fighting for our future. Mulder leaned against the side of the bed and gazed up with affection at the woman who was now the most important person in his life. "Okay, Dana," he urged, as his generous lips quirked upward, "What do you want to talk about?" (b.fat): "How about what weÕre going to do next?" She suggested. Mulder frowned. "Not as much fun as IÕd hoped, but okay." Dana smiled at him and ruffled his hair with her hand. He reached up and snagged her wrist before she could pull it away and brought it to his lips. He placed a kiss against her palm and looked up into her eyes. The mirth was gone from them as she contemplated his serious expression. "IÕm so sorry, Dana. IÕm sorry for ruining your life." He released her hand and looked away from her. He didnÕt see her shaking her head vehemently, but her voice was strong and clear. "No!" She said. "ThatÕs just it! IÕm happier now than IÕve ever been. Before you, Mulder, it was like I was living in a dream. But when I met you, it was like... like I finally woke up." When she spoke again, her voice was soft and she reached out for him again. He grasped her hand and linked her fingers with his. "You havenÕt ruined my life. YouÕve just made it more interesting." She grinned at him and he smiled back up at her. "Okay, then." He said. "What do we do next?" She looked at him fondly for a moment before patting the bed beside her. He crawled up on top of the flimsy blanket, and rested his head on the pillow beside hers, wrapping his arms around her. She nuzzled his nose lovingly and placed a gentle kiss against his lips. "How about this," she said quietly. "IÕll slip around the corner and grab us something to eat, because IÕm starving and IÕm sure you could use something besides prison food, and you can head into the washroom. IÕm sure that jail cell wasnÕt kind in that department either." He looked at her and nodded gratefully. "When I come back, we can sit around in our pajamas and eat, get a full nightÕs sleep, and figure out a way to get out of this damned city in the morning." She finished. A sly grin spread across MulderÕs face. "Eat and go to sleep, huh?" He said teasingly, slipping a hand beneath her shirt and letting his fingers dance across the bare skin of her waist. She gasped and then blushed. "Well, the plan is, of course, open to suggestion." She barely managed to get the sentence out before he captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Moaning into his mouth, she pressed her body more fully against his, but before they could move one step further, her stomach growled in complaint. They kiss was broken by their laughter and DanaÕs face reddened in embarrassment. "IÕll, um, go get that food now." She said, sliding off the bed and heading towards the door. She stopped in the doorway and gave him one last smile before disappearing. *** When the food containers were empty and both parties sufficiently stuffed, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, dressed only in their pajamas. Thankfully, it was a warm night so they wouldnÕt need to use the sad scrap of a blanket provided by the hotel. They turned to face each other, smiling nervously, and Dana let her left hand move across the space between them to rest against the side of MulderÕs face. "IÕm so glad I met you." She whispered, gazing at him tenderly. He reached out with both arms to pull her against him and kissed her soundly. When he reached for the bottom of her nightshirt this time, there were no grumbles of hunger to stop him. (xandria): As rays of light poured through the window , Scully opened her eyes and gazed at the man lying next to her, only a sheet covering them both. His arm was wrapped protectively around her waist. Although she had dreamed and fantasized about last night for the past couple of days, there was a big difference between her fantasy and reality. She remembered Monica telling her she should sleep with him and get it out of her system. She had done it, but he was no where near out of her system. What they had was so much more than that. After all they had been through in the past few days, they deserved this night together, a night free from worrying about who was out to get them, about what their next move was. As morning dawned, it was time to get back to finding the truth. Although the truth they had found in this bed was really the only one she wanted explore for the time being, concerns swept through her mind. How long before they were found? Who was after them? Mulder was out on bail so as long as he didn't leave town the cops probably wouldn't be busting him. They had lost that disgusting Krycek - Scully couldn't help flinching at the remembrance of his kiss - had Mulder seen what happened? And Diana - was she likely to burst in telling her to get away from her husband any second now? She couldn't relax until a few things were cleared up. "Mulder," she said, kissing his chest to wake him "Are you divorced now?" "Does it matter?" he asked, opening his eyes, as his hand reached for her left breast. His hand stilled as he looked in her eyes "You don't regret last night do you?" "I'm still here aren't I?" she said playfully. "It doesn't matter, I just want to know if I'm the wicked adulteress the paper said I was. And I never asked you: Why did Diana bail you out?" "She told me her father wants to kill me, and he was sending Alex Krycek to do it. She told me she hates me, but she doesn't want my blood on her hands. Even Diana will only go so far. So she bailed me out in exchange for promising to leave town and for signing away basically all my future inheritance to her." He said sadly. Grabbing her hand in his, he continued in a low voice "The answer is, yes I'm divorced, but I've got nothing but the shirt on my back, and that isn't even mine. Do you want to get married?" At first, she was too stunned to say anything as her heart pounded. She knew she was in love with him, but she hadn't put much thought into anything beyond just running away together. She was surprised that he'd want to jump into this so quickly. Maybe he's just saying it because he feels guilty about last night, she thought. "Do you?" she asked, trying to understand his meaning. "Dana, ever since the other night, you asked me about marriage and love and meeting your soul mate. And ever since then, I've been beginning to understand what you meant. About only marrying someone you can't live without. Before you found me I didn't want to live. For a while, I had only known pain. I let my troops die in the war, my injury, estrangement from my family, my failed marriage, my involvement with the Haven, resulting in the deaths of innocents, " he said, choking on the last words. "While they were beating me I prayed they would kill me. I felt that I deserved it and that there was nothing left to live for anyway. When you found me, when you saved me, you helped me live and gave me a reason to live at the same time. You believed in me. I can't help but be in awe of your strength, integrity, and honesty. Plus the fact that you're still here," he said hugging her tightly. He spoke the next word softly into her ear: "And I don't want you to leave, ever. It's selfish I know, because I have nothing to give you - I can't even say It would make an honest woman of you, because instead my influence has been anything but that so far," he chuckled softly. "You don't have to answer me now, or ever. I understand. I mean, I can't imagine why you'd want to. I just want you to know that I love you and that's ho--" "Then you have to understand one thing, "She said, grabbing his face between her hands. "I love you. You have everything to offer me: yourself. That is all I want," a tear running down her face. He wiped it with his thumb, and she smiled. Sliding her hand underneath the sheet, she continued "Oh, and this too. This is included in your offer I hope?" "If that's a deal-breaker for you, I guess it can be included. And if you ever take your hands off of me long enough, woman, I might have a chance to marry you too." "How does Niagara Falls sound?" she asked, as she nipped his ear. "As soon as I can think clearly, we'll talk about it," he said, as he pulled her close and kissed her. And for a few moments of eternity, they were lost in each other, defying the world that wanted to tear them apart. (bcfan): *~*~*~* Their passion spent, Mulder and Dana were content to lazily snuggle together on the bed for long moments. Dana pressed her ear to Mulder's chest as he held her, lulled by his strong heartbeat. Mulder - smiling to himself - inhaled the fresh scent of Scully's hair, his eyes fluttering closed in appreciation. Soon, however, the real world beyond their door began to intrude. The thin walls did nothing to hide a myriad of unwelcome noises, and Dana reluctantly began to untangle herself from the sheets. "Good morning again, sleepyhead," she teased Mulder. "Guess we better get going - we only paid for one night!" "I know," sighed Mulder, "but when this mess is cleared up and we're free of the past, I want to stay in bed with you for days." He grinned slyly. "I'm sure we'll find something to while away the hours...maybe another massage?" "...or something," Scully repeated archly. They took turns washing in the basin, then gathered their meager possessions in the duffel. Scully began to think of what to do next. "Why do you think there were so many cops at the railroad station?" Mulder considered. "The only thing that makes sense is that someone knew I was planning to leave the city, and if I did, I'd break my bail. I don't know if Diana spilled the beans, or if they just guessed for themselves. In either case, I'm not sure that rail travel is safest right now." Dana bit her lip. "It worries me that whoever is after us has enough power to control the police." "Yes - we're in danger here, and if I'm correct, this corruption even reaches beyond the city." Mulder sat on the edge on the bed and Dana settled next to him. He grasped her hand as he gazed seriously into her eyes. "A big part of me wants to get as far away from here as possible with you, forget what has happened, and start fresh." "A new life sounds wonderful," Dana murmured. "But there's another part of me, and it's nagging at my conscience, Dana. If we leave, will we be happy knowing that others are in danger, dying even, and we did nothing to stop it? If you think about it, we might be the only people in the world who know there's something evil happening." Dana placed her hand gently on Mulder's shirt, spreading her fingers over his heart. "You have a good heart," she quietly asserted. Dana dropped her hand and smiled at him, then turned serious. "You've suffered so much already, yet you're still thinking of others. You're not responsible for the whole world, Mulder..." Mulder shuddered, and began to hold himself, began to rock. I've seen him do this before when he's upset, Scully thought, I need to put a stop to this right now. She tugged at Mulder's arms and slid inside his grasp. "We'll decide what to do together," she murmured to his chest. Mulder nodded gratefully, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Each held in the arms of the other, they quietly discussed their future. (Lissy Ratz): "We can't go to the police, obviously." Dana said. "And no newspaper will ever listen to me." She cursed to herself, remembering how easy it used to be to expose even the smallest scandal. Her good world could turn a city on it's side if she worded it the rite way. Now she was on the verge of the greatest truth and no one would even hear it. Mulder paced in the small room wearing his boxers, trying to think of their next move and Dana sat on the bed smoking her last cigarette wearing Mulder's shirt. "What if we do leave the city. Get as far away as we can-" "Mulder, I thought you wanted to stay and fight this." "We will, but we have no power here. Warning the people of New York City is a moot point, we have to go rite to the source and bring the men in power down." "You want to go to the Haven?" She asked in disbelief. That sounded awfully dangerous. It seemed, as he thought about it more, the better it sounded in his head. "Well how do you expect to get there? We have no transportation." ~~~~~~~~ By one o'clock they were standing on the side of the road holding their few belongings. Mulder held his thumb out hoping to wave down a kind driver. Finally a delivery truck slowed to a stop in front of them. The driver, a mid-forties blond haired blue eyed man reached his hand out to Dana to help her in. Once they were settled in Mulder and Dana thanked the man kindly. He looked very profession for a delivery boy. "M'name's John Doggett. Used to be Detective Doggett." The man said with a kind of pride. "What happened?" Mulder asked, hoping he wasn't being rude. "Eh, the NYPD's been so crazy lately with crooks runnin the show, I lost my job. This is the only job I could find that wasn't factory work." "Oh" Dana said. Silently thinking that it probably was Krycek, or Diana's father that got Mr. Doggett fired. "So, where are you two headed?" (xandria): "Niagara Falls," Scully said, deciding it best not to reveal their true destination. Although she was hoping they would end up there at some point, they had other things to take care of first. "We're getting married," Mulder smiled proudly, putting his arm around Scully - not a total lie, he did intend to marry her - although with no money and all their other problems - it wasn't going to happen as soon as he wanted it to. "Niagara Falls is about 400 miles. I should be able to take you halfway." The truck lurched and Scully's hand grasped her stomach. Eyeing her hand, Doggett presumed "Ah, in a family way are you? That's why you're eloping, eh?" When neither of them responded, Doggett rambled on: "Huh. I know the feeling. Same reason my wife and I got hitched. That and her father's shotgun to my head. No hard feelings then - he later gave me a job. Sergeant Skinner." "Sergeant Skinner is your father-in-law?" Scully asked calmly. "Was my father-in-law. He didn't hesitate help getting me fired when Mavis left me. Said I drank too much. Well, what's man to do but drink his troubles away, when his wife leaves him for a 70 year- old cigarette smoking son-of-a-bitch Spender and his only son runs off to be a cabaret dancer?" "So did Sergeant Skinner give his blessing to your wife leaving you for this, uh, Spender?" Scully said, trying to pretend she wasn't as curious as she was. "As far as I can tell, all the cops are controlled by him, Skinner included. I refused to play the game, and I lost everything." Mulder stifled a laugh, and said "Surely you don't blame this Spender or Sgt. Skinner for your son running off to be a cabaret dancer." "No, I blame myself for that. I just always wanted him to be a manly man like me, and when he couldn't live up to that, I guess he just turned in the opposite direction." "That's terrible. Look, I've had my share of - " Scully jabbed him in the stomach. She'd practically had to beg him to tell her his story, she was damned if he was simply going to spill it to this John Doggett, whom they had no reason to trust. "Troubles with women," he continued. "Until I met this hot little number. It was love at first sight, wasn't it cupcake?" he said, rubbing her shoulder. "It sure was. You know how they say 'You're never fully dressed without a smile?' Well that's about all he was wearing when I met him-" Realizing he didn't really want to know where this conversation was going, Doggett interjected: "Say, I didn't ask your names. You two do look familiar, though. Maybe I've seen your picture -" "Deanna Luskey, and Reynard Muldrake," Scully said. "You may have seen our pictures in the paper - we're actors, you see. The real reason we're traveling incognito is we're afraid of our fans, of all the publicity it would cause. We just want to get away and be privately married." "Your secret's safe with me. And since you've trusted me, I'll let you in on mine: I'm going to the Haven, his bootlegging outfit where that cigarette smoking son-of-bitch has my ex-wife. This truck is one of their delivery vehicles, but this one's filled with explosives. I'm going to park it there, take off, and boom - the whole place goes straight to hell - where it belongs." As the truck headed toward the New Jersey Turnpike, Mulder and Scully looked at each other, wishing they could be alone for a moment to talk. If this man was telling the truth, they had basically the same goal - although blowing it up hadn't exactly been their agenda. He might be a valuable ally. If he wasn't, he might just be setting them up - playing them right into the hands of the enemy. (bcfan): After an hour and a half riding in the crowded front seat of the delivery truck, John Doggett pulled over to the side of the road to relieve himself, carefully staying out of eyesight of Mulder and Scully. "Do we-" they both blurted at once, then laughed. "Do we trust him?" Dana persisted. Mulder and Scully looked at each other, then Mulder smiled, "We've already got an unspoken communication thing going, don't we? Let's do this without Doggett's help. He seems sincere, but I think he lacks the imagination to believe what's really going on at the Haven." "I agree," Dana dryly replied. "Now let's talk about something more important, Mulder. Do you really want to go to Niagara to get married?" Mulder affectionately cupped his hand around Scully's cheek. "What could be better, Dana?" He smiled. "There are wedding chapels, beautiful scenery - and I hear we can go close to the falls on a boat, the Maid of the Mist!" Mulder began to enthusiastically describe the benefits of Niagara nuptuals, much to Dana's amusement. "I think most of what you're describing is on the Canadian side," Dana explained, "but any time with you will be wonderful. I can't wait till this Haven fiasco is finished." She was busy kissing him as Doggett opened the door to the truck. "Scuse me, folks," Doggett interrupted. "How 'bout I drop you off in town, before the Haven turn off. I'm sure you'll be able to get a ride to Niagara from the main road." "That sounds wonderful. Thank your, Mr. Doggett," Dana replied. Already, Dana's mind was going a mile a minute, trying to incorporate Doggett's bombing scheme with their idea of destroying the conspiracy. I need to talk to Mulder and coordinate our plan, she thought to herself. The sooner we stop the Haven, the sooner we can begin our own lives. With these thoughts, Dana Scully was content to ride in silence, holding hands with Mulder and dreaming of their future together. (Lissy Ratz): "Okay okay okay...Your ex-wife, is Mr. Doggett's ex-wife's' step- mother, in theory." "...Yeah, I think." Mulder said, mapping out the confused family tree in his brain. "And your ex-wife's father's new wife's ex-husband is about to blow up the Haven to avenge...something-" "His wife's seduction, corruption, illegal drinking, contaminated booze- which, I can imagine a drinker such as himself would be upset over, not enough cream in his coffee, any number of things. I'm sure he means well but he's a bit of a loose cannon." "I see." Dana replied. "Just making sure I know the score." Dana walked around the small hotel room, which was much more decent than the one in the city. "Mulder, if Mr. Doggett is going to blow up the Haven tonight, that what are we doing in this room? What will we be looking for if it's all blown to ashes?" He seemed calm, almost too confident with himself. "He's not going to go through with it." "How do you know, you said yourself he's a loose cannon. He did tell you as much?" "No, I just know. Think of it- he's a veteran cop, an officer of the law, he's probably chased down enough cooks to know that his half- assed plan won't work. And he obviously cares about his ex- wife, he wouldn't risk killing her in the explosion. At the very lease we have time. He'll make sure she's out of harms way. Maybe he'll even try to win her back. But he's not the impulsive type, he's not going to just get pissed off and blow something up. Most likely he's getting himself sloppy drunk. Just a few drinks before the big boom." Dana was impressed with his theory but it seemed to be filled with guess work. "Trust me, I almost always go with my gut instinct and I'm almost always right." She laughed, unsure whether that was actually meant to be a pun. "Alright, Mr. Doggett is the least of my concerns. Mr. Mulder on the other hand...." He raised an eyebrow as she crossed the room, with a mischievous look in her eye. *** There was crash coming from just outside their door, and a thump. Mulder raced to the door, being cautious as he opened it. He saw the source of the noise and, unimpressed, swung open the door. A broken beer bottle rolled inside, the other half of the bottle was in Mr. Doggett's hand, where Mr. Doggett lay most unconscious on the floor. He wreaked of booze and moaned something unintelligible in his drunken stupor. "Gut instincts it is." Dana agreed. (xandria): "All right. Get that lush in here and shut the door," commanded Dana, clad only in her camisole, from her reclining position on the bed. "We were in the middle of something here," she said irritated, as Mulder drug Doggett just inside the door and closed it. "Now, come back here, Reynard, and -" "But uuh, Deanna, now that we've got company, I don't think it's the time or the place." Mulder said, starting to pull his pants back on. "But you were going to do the thing with the, you know. Damn!!! Put a blanket over his head or something," she said tossing a pillow in frustration at Doggett's lolling head. She was sick & tired of policeman, ex-wives, and drunks, bursting in on her intimate moments with Mulder. She was damned if she was going to let that lunatic ruin what she been fantasizing about for the entire 200 plus mile drive. "He's passed out cold. Come on, pretty please, " she said, spreading her legs. "I can't," he said, walking over to the bed. "I can't forget he's here. And don't you even want to find out why he's here, why he crashed into our hotel room door?" "I do, but lat-er." Realizing it was too early in the relationship to beg for sex, Dana tried another tactic. In her deepest, throatiest, voice, she continued: "Did I mention I can't think straight unless I've had an orgasm? Reynard, how can you expect me to think through these conspiracy theories when you've left me, absolutely, hanging, " she said, eyeing the front of his boxers. "You didn't have a problem getting it up when Monica was laying passed out on the bed at my apartment," she rasped, reaching for him, trying to pull him down with her. "That was completely different. I had two broads in bed with me. And a leg massage...." he continued, resisting her advances. "Did you fantasize about both of us?" she said, grasping his hands tightly. "Ye- I mean, no, just you, honey. Only you. I mean, you're the one who rescued me and gave me the leg massage. I don't think you would've let your roommate get near me anyway." Pretending to be enraged, Dana shouted: "And if it would've been her, would you be with her right now? Are you just with me for the sex? Is that all I am to you?" He went along with it, hoping she was just role-playing as "the actress" Deanna Luskey. "On the contrary, I'm beginning to think that's why you're with me." "That's part of the reason, in fact right now, it's the only thing keeping me here," she said, grasping his "manhood" she spoke, never breaking eye contact. God, role-playing or not - she was demanding. He'd been with the sweet, passionate Dana Scully, (who he was sure could fulfill all his fantasies for the rest of his life) but now he had the opportunity to be with the demanding diva Diana Luskey. But not in front of a passed out lunatic Doggett. That might ruin his sexual fantasy life with Dana forever. Or maybe, he thought, his hang up had more to do with being the drunk on the floor so many times who had woken up to Diana banging other men. Stop, he told himself. He had to push Diana and Doggett out of his mind, and find some way to be alone (physically and mentally) with the divine Deanna Luskey who was now naked, kneeling in front of him, and attempting to remove his boxers with her teeth. "Walter, it's me," Doggett moaned from the floor. Hearing more of Doggett's delirious ramblings - especially if they involved fantasies about his father-in-law - was really going to ruin the mood. Looking frantically around the room, Mulder finally found the answer. "There's a connecting door," he said, trying the knob. "It's unlocked," he said, opening it and peeking his head through the door. The room seemed to be unoccupied. "C'mere, this won't take long," he said, pulling a naked Deanna Luskey through the door and shutting it behind them. (bfat- sans smutty scene): Once the door was shut behind them, Scully moved to turn on the small bedside lamp. Beside it, she noticed a man's wallet. She looked to Mulder curiously who shrugged, and she flipped it open, finding what she had half-expected and half hoped. "John Doggett." She said. "And his key is here too. He must have forgotten to take it with him when he stumbled drunkenly from his room and passed out in front of our door." She set the wallet back on the table and turned to look at Mulder who was eyeing her hungrily from in front of the now locked adjoining door. "Hmm..." he said. "And if he's passed out in there for god knows how long... that means we've got this whole room all to ourselves." Dana's eyes went wide as Mulder stalked towards her predatorily. She's back, Mulder thought with an inner sigh of relief. No more Deanna Lusky. He wasn't sure he enjoyed role-playing. He preferred the gentle but enthusiastic redhead that he had fallen in love with. And here she was, completely naked, standing in front of him wide eyed and aroused with a blush (a very attractive blush, he noted) creeping over every part of her body. When he reached her, he put his palm tenderly against her hip and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to his. *** Later, when Dana and Mulder had bathed, reclaimed their clothes, and straightened up Mr. Doggett's room a bit, they headed back into their own room to check on the inebriated and unconscious man. The found him still asleep on their floor, his face buried in the carpeting. Dana walked over to the bed and pulled a pillow off before heading back over to Mr. Doggett and placing it beneath his head. "He's already going to have a headache when he wakes up, there's no use making it worse." Mulder nodded in agreement and they both moved to sit on the bed to discuss what they were going to do about this Haven business, not to mention the man passed out on their floor and his truck full of explosives outside in the parking lot. "I think we should wait for Mr. Doggett here to wake up before we make any plans." Mulder suggested. "Good idea." Dana said. "I could use a little sleep myself, actually." She looked over at Mulder who nodded sleepily and opened his arms to her. She crawled across the bed and over to him where she curled up against him and promptly fell asleep. Mulder brushed a kiss against her forehead and followed her into slumber. (bcfan): Mulder slowly drifted awake to the sound of atonal humming. Ooh, Dana, Mulder smiled to himself, you have a beautiful speaking voice, but... Mulder cracked open one eye from his supine position on the bed, and happily sighed as he watched Dana brushing out her hair as she gazed through the narrow hotel window. I'm the luckiest man in the world, Mulder thought, I'm with the woman I love, a woman who never ceases to charm and amaze me. Dana turned, and Mulder was treated to her brilliant smile. He grinned back, stretched, and sat up on the bed. "Another good night's sleep, I see," Dana chuckled. "Because of you," Mulder murmured, "and judging by that racket near the corner, I'd say Doggett is still in slumberland. It's time to change that." Both crouched in front of their unwelcome guest. "C'mon, Doggett," Mulder lightly slapped his cheek. "Wake up and tell us what happened." Doggett moaned, waking. "Where am I?" he mumbled. Scully shot Doggett a dirty look. "Our hotel room. We found you passed out in the hall." Doggett mumbled, "Oh - sorry, but it's not my fault! I was going to blow up the Haven, but then I remembered I might get arrested if I did that." With that, Doggett closed his eyes, and Mulder and Dana glanced at each other in dismay. Mulder realized that subtlety wasn't working, and with his hung-over state, Doggett probably wouldn't remember their conversation anyway. He vigorously shook Doggett's shoulder and demanded, "Tell us what happened at the Haven, Doggett." "My head hurts - you got a shot of something to ease the pain?" Another shoulder shake, then, "Okay, okay, I went there. It's big - there's lots of guards, and guard dogs," Doggett shuddered. "After I decided to find evidence instead of blowing them up, I poked around...they don't keep their records in the compound, but there's an old iron mine..." Doggett wound down, closed his eyes again, and started snoring loudly. Mulder gave Dana a long look, then began a whispered conversation. "Let him sleep, Dana. We don't want him to be involved with our plan anyway." "I agree," Dana replied. "Dana, did you know that New York has a history of mining? Iron mines formed the basis of many fortunes in the New York valley, and the Haven is on Iron Forge Road. I think Doggett might be onto something - there was a part of the Haven property that was always off-limits and guarded when I was there..." Dana spoke quietly. "Does it worry you to think about all this? Are you all right facing this again?" Mulder grasped her hand. "I have you with me now. That makes all the difference in the world." Mulder kissed her palm. "The only thing I'm worried about right now is meeting someone I know. I'm familiar in this town, Dana. I have no real friends here, but there are people who, if they recognize me, would be happy to earn a few bucks by turning me in." Dana thoughtfully declared, "Then I guess we have only two options, Mulder. Disguise ourselves so we can travel today, or - " " - wait till tonight and do some midnight poaching," Mulder completed her thought. "Which do you think is best?" (Lissy Ratz): "I'm not sure." She thought for a long time weighing her options. After a long moment of consideration, she definitively said "Night." "Definitely? Why?" "Security may be a little looser at night, it'll be dark, and besides a disguise requires money which we're running short of." "Sounds like a plan." "C'mon" She said, back into the room with Doggett. "Help me carry the lush to the shower. We just may need his help." "With what? He's pretty clearly shown us that he doesn't know what he's doing." "Maybe that's what we need. We can pretend to go along as a means to get in. He drives one of their trucks." The wheels in her head turned faster, Mulder knew she was working out all the details. Her hands gestured in the air, "oh! then-" He smiled at her, loving that she was getting excited with forming the plan. "We'll need more help!...Yes, that's it!" "Are you planning on filling me in on what were going to do? Or are you going to keep it a secret?" "Secret." She smiled slyly. "I'm serious Dana, what do you think we're going to do once we get inside the Haven?" She waved him away, walking toward Doggett. "First we move Doggett, then I have to call Monica and Mr. Byers and Frohike and Mr. Langly. Then find a horse and a camera. Then I'll tell you." "What?!" He exclaimed. but she ignored him, trying to move Doggett by herself. "Trust me." She smiled wickedly. (bcfan): Chapter 6 Mulder leaned against the dresser to ease the pressure from his bad leg, and solemnly gazed around their crowded hotel room. A few short weeks ago, he reflected, I was alone and in Spender's hell. Now, thanks to the amazing woman standing straight and proud by my side, I am surrounded by friends new and old. A stray thought floated through Mulder's brain which made him quirk his lips. Scully - it's almost like she's my sergeant from the War - she's fiercely loyal and always ready for a fight! Six pairs of eyes were focused on Mulder's face, ready to hear what he had to say. His friend Byers was perched on the edge of their hotel bed next to his two friends, Monica (who had ridden up in the trio's Model T) sat in the only chair, and Doggett sat on the floor next to her, his head in his hands, but still awake and willing to be there. Mulder cleared his throat. "Thank you - thank you for coming to help me stop a conspiracy." Mulder glance with affection at Dana. "Miss Scully will be explaining the details of our plan, but I wanted to take a moment to explain to you WHY we are here." "I became involved in the Haven through my former wife and her father, Charles Spender. I found out that Spender and his organization was selling bad booze, so bad it was killing people...but I couldn't stop it on my own. You know how Miss Scully found me and saved me." Mulder gave Dana's hand an affectionate squeeze. "What you might not know is what I found out later, from an informant named Krycek: this bad liquor is a mask being used to disguise tests against innocent people, tests involving an undetectable poison." "Why would anyone do that?!" Monica blurted, horrified. "It seems as if Spender wants a foolproof method of controlling his enemies," Mulder replied. "If his gang can develop a poison that is impossible to detect or trace, it could be inserted into any household item, any food and drink - no one would be safe." The trio of friends on the bed glanced at each other. "We'll help you stop this," Frohike declared, and the others solemnly agreed. Dana spoke up, "We'll stop this - and we'll get Spender and his cronies behind bars, or worse! I have a three prong plan of attack and we need to coordinate our efforts." (My sergeant! Mulder flashed). "Mr. Byers, Mr. Frohike, Mr. Langly - I asked you to bring a camera with you, and your newspaper credentials. At 9:00 p.m. tonight, you will enter the Haven gates and proceed to take pictures of the estate, then demand to interview Spender. You still have the backing of the New York Times; you three will be the main distraction for the Haven bigwigs, AND...I want to use your pictures and research when I write the story that will uncover the greatest scandal of the twentieth century!" Dana ended triumphantly. Frohike smiled encouragement, Byers and Langley nodded in agreement. "Mr. Doggett." "Huh?" Doggett replied. "Do you still want to blow up Charles Spender?" "Not anymore," Doggett was sheepish, "But I am willing to help." "Then I have an idea for your explosives." Dana smiled. "At 9:00 p.m. you will be with your delivery truck, half a mile from the mine shaft. I want you to start a series of explosions, large enough to distract the men guarding the mine." Monica's hand shot up. "Me! I want to help Mr. Doggett explode things - I'm ready for some action!" Monica grinned at Doggett, and he slowly smiled back. She's cute, he thought, maybe we can do something else later. Monica smirked, and Doggett had the feeling that she'd read his mind. "Finally," Dana placed her hand on Mulder's arm, "Mr. Mulder and I will be ready for our part of the plan. We'll share a ride on the horse we rented from the stables, and sneak up on the property from behind. When we hear the explosions, we'll sneak down into the mine, gather as many incriminating files as possible, and use the horse to transport the evidence back to our rendezvous point east of the main road." "This will be dangerous," Mulder warned, "Please think carefully before you decide to join us." Echoes of "I'm in" and "let's do it" sounded around the room, except for Doggett, who commented with enthusiasm, "Let's drink to that!" "Why don't we celebrate with a drink later, and smokes now," Dana kindly offered. Monica passed around her last pack of cigarettes. Soon, seven people were contently smoking, a blue haze filling the room as they contemplated the evening ahead. Later that evening... A cool evening breeze wafted over the couple on horseback who were quietly headed to the iron mine on Spender's property. Back at the hotel, Frohike had passed the hat so that Mulder and Dana wouldn't have to share a rented steed, and Dana was glad that they did. It would have been pleasant, Dana reflected, to be held in Mulder's arms as they rode, or to have held on to Mulder's waist from behind him on the saddle. But I'm enjoying this view, too, Dana smiled, watching how Mulder's seat bounced slightly in the saddle, how his thighs gripped the sides. And this way, we can make a faster getaway! As Mulder led Scully to the area where the mine was most likely to be located, he glanced back at her fondly. "How you holding up," he whispered. "I'm actually having fun here," Scully quietly replied. "I've never gone riding with my beau before!" Mulder's happy smile was all the reward she needed. All to soon, they heard voices, and both alit from their horses to hide them behind a rocky outcropping, tying the reins to a bush. They waited briefly then - an explosion, followed by another and another. Three guards rushed out, shouted, then sped off in their old truck towards the racket. "That's our signal. Let's hurry!," Mulder urged. Both ran to the front of the mine and began to descend down into a deep shaft in an antiquated elevator. "This elevator is awfully noisy," Dana complained. "I hope no one hears us." "We can only hope that the explosions outside are masking the sound." Dana nodded, and as the elevator finally reached the bottom, both gasped at the sight before them. There weren't two or even twenty old filing cabinets - there appeared to be at least a hundred! "Files," Scully murmured. "Lots and lots of files," Mulder concurred. "What should we do?" "Let's concentrate on the newer files," Mulder suggested. "Maybe we can nail those murderers for what they're doing now, then come back later and see who else has been involved in their schemes." Mulder and Scully rushed to the files marked 1922, and begin to randomly shove files into their trusty duffel. Mulder suddenly grabbed Dana's arm and exclaimed, "There's a file with my name on in!" "Here's one with my name, too!" scowled Dana. The duffel full to overflowing, the pair turned - and realized that the elevator was moving upward. Scully gulped. This isn't fun anymore, she worried, I don't want to go from the lighted elevator shaft into a dark tunnel. Mulder seemed to sense her fear, and laid his hand gently on her arm. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go into the mine shaft a little way, and then wait. There's no evidence that we've taken anything, unless someone opens the last filing cabinet." Dana nodded grimly and, holding hands, she and Mulder faded into a dark passageway to see what would happen next. (Lissy Ratz): From a distant hill they watched the fireworks. "So John, how do you know Dana and Mulder?" He reclined, admiring the view of the chaos they have caused. "They needed a ride to Niagara Falls to get married. But I guess somewhere along the ride they decided to bring a national conspiracy down. " He said much too non-chalantly. "How about you?" "I'm Dana's roommate. Pass me some of that?" She asked of the flask Doggett pulled from his coat. Below the hill, security guards franticly ran hoses to the explosions futilely trying to put out the spreading fire. A whistle blew and more guards came running from inside. The reinforcements turned on flashlights and began searching the area, two guards stood at the foot of the hill and looked up, trying to find the ones responsible. "That's our cue!" Doggett put is arm around Monica and together they jumped up and ran the other way down the hill. The guard blew his whistle and charged the hill with four other guards. The chase was on. "You're on boys!" Monica cried at the door to their tiny safe house. Three men jumped out of the fox hole making room for Monica and Doggett to get in. They set up their cameras and were on their way. "Good Luck!" Monica called after them, then settled into their ditch, and covered it with an up-rooted bush. "I hope Mulder and Dana are alright." John said. "I'm sure they're fine," She said and caressed his face. He laid closer to her in their 3 by 6 by 4 hole. "So we just sit here together until it's over?" And she nodded. "Well that could be a long time." And she nodded again, with a hint of a smirk. (bcfan): Under a ton of earth and iron, huddled in a side shaft in the bottom of the mine, Mulder and Dana had no way of knowing what was occurring on the surface. They had first stood silent, rigid and fearful, as three of the four guards alit from the elevator in the filing area. As it became apparent that the guards had come not to discover them, but to hold an impromptu drinking session, the two slid silently to the ground. Mulder sighed and leaned with his back against the rough wall, grasping Dana firmly in his arms as she snuggled against him, gradually relaxing. The guards drinking soon included raucous conversation and jokes, and the pair relaxed enough to shift slightly against each other. Dana bit back a gasp of pleasure when she realized that her horse- riding beau was indeed back in the saddle again. The intense attraction I have to this beautiful man, considered Dana, and the obvious attraction he has for me - may it never end! "Mulder..." Dana murmured. "Shhh," the whispered reply. Mulder breathed in the scent of Dana's hair, the perfume that seemed to be her essence, and began to rain feather light kisses on her neck, her ear. Dana turned and strengthened her kiss to Mulder's lips, and soon - although mindful of their need for silence - they were lost in an exploration of each other. The love they expressed for each other was all the more sweet for its need of gentleness, of silence, and after a time they contentedly snuggled together again. After waiting and half-dozing for a while longer as the guards drank and joked, there came the eventual sound of loud snoring. Mulder shook Dana's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "I think it's time to try the elevator again. Let's go as quickly as we can, then be prepared if there's someone at the top." At Dana's nod, Mulder grabbed the handles of the duffel and rose, helping Dana up with him. They crept towards the elevator passing the guards sleeping on rough pallets in the corner, and soon entered the waiting machine. A quiet murmur. "Lie down flat, Dana, and I will too after I press the up button. That way, even if the guards wake up and see the elevator moving, they might think it's just being called to the surface." Just as Mulder planned, they began to travel upward to the surface unnoticed by the guards below. However, as they were reaching the top, they heard a voice. "Hey, Frank, you ready to relieve my watch here so I can join the party?" Mulder immediately shoved Dana behind him as he stood to the side of the elevator door. "Wha-?" gasped the burly guard, as Mulder flung open the door and rushed him. Dana looked wildly for a way to help Mulder, who seemed to be losing the fist fight. She spied a short plank on the ground, grabbed it, and hit the guard on the side of the head; he immediately collapsed to the ground. "Dana," Mulder panted, gingerly touching his bruised face, "you've got a mean swing." He smiled at her admiringly. "Did you ever play baseball?" Dana grinned back, "No, but I'd love to have you teach me! Come on, let's grab the horses and meet at the rendezvous. I can't wait to see what happened with everyone!" Twenty minutes later, a smiling Mulder and Dana reached the east end of the Spender property, where the three researchers rose to greet them. "You're the first ones here!" Byers exclaimed. "I got some great pictures!" Langly enthused. "And your story of a lifetime," Frohike told Dana, "Miss Scully, have we got some quotes for you!" Dana laughed, "Thank you all so much. And with what Mulder and I are bound to discover in the files we stored in our duffel, we're certain to be able to stop Spender and his gang!" Mulder interrupted their conversation, "Where's Doggett and Monica? We have to get out of here now - that guard is going to wake up any minute." The group turned as they heard a noise of tires on gravel, and were relieved to see their disheveled friends drive up in the delivery truck. "Whee, that was fun!" Monica enthused as the engine stopped, "And John and I want to stop for a drink or two. Anyone care to join us?" "Mr. Doggett," Dana spoke seriously, "Would you be responsible for taking my friend back to New York? I can tell she wants to stay. And Monica - would you be able to help load the horses into the back of your delivery truck, and return them to the stables. We don't want to be accused of being horse thieves!" Monica winked at her friend and cheerfully agreed. Dana turned to her lover and friends. "Let's start back to the city now in your Model T. We can plan our strategy on the way, on how to break the biggest story of the century!" Soon the groups went their separate ways. As the sun rose over the eastern horizon, the beams shone on the happy travelers. Three friends in the front seat were laughing and teasing each other in their roles to stop a conspiracy. In the back seat, Mulder and Dana held each other and joyfully discussed their future together. Epilogue - one year later It was a muggy day in August in New York City, and Dana Mulder was on the scent. That man must be around here somewhere, she thought, and when I find him heÕll be in for a surprise. Dana poked her head into their ManhattanÕs brownstone sitting room, and an involuntary smile tugged at her lips as she glanced at the wedding photo hanging in pride over the fireplace. The large black-and-white detailed her white dress and veil, MulderÕs suit with broad tie only slightly askew - both posed behind a cutout wooden board painted so it looked like they were riding a large barrel over Niagara Falls. Dana had begun to judge visitors by their reaction to this unorthodox honeymoon shot - Monica and her sister Melissa had roared with laughter, brother Bill had scowled and her sister Sheila looked shocked. If only they knew! Married life with Mulder had been as giddy and exciting as an imaginary roll in a barrel - and Dana wouldnÕt have it any other way. Dana searched the rest of the main story without success, then climbed the broad staircase to the second floor. Mulder wasnÕt in their bedroom, or the small bathroom, where a red worsted swimming suit hung over a hook. Dana grinned again, remembering the fine time she had lately watching her husband stroke through the water of the outdoor public pool near their apartment. MulderÕs most recent operation had been successful, removing the last of the shrapnel embedded in his thigh. Mulder still had a limp, and was exercising to build up weakened muscles, but he was no longer in constant (if uncomplaining) pain. It was a joy for Dana to see pain lines eased from MulderÕs face; she liked to fancy that she had a part in replacing them with smile lines, instead. Dana heard a noise, and headed for the second bedroom. "DonÕt come in, Dana, IÕm just finishing here," came the muffled voice within. "But darling," Dana called, "I have a surprise!" Mulder poked his head around the door. "A surprise? What? - Wait, let me show your my surprise first!" Mulder opened the door with a flourish, and Dana gasped. There, along one wall of the bedroom they were converting into a nursery, was a hand-painted mural - or rather, a Mulder painted mural, which was obvious from paint flecks covering MulderÕs face, shirt and pants. The floor and table were covered in Sunday comics, and Mulder had obviously used these as a reference - the mural depicted Little Nemo in Slumberland, smiling atop his flying bed, surrounded by the stars. "It-itÕs beautiful, Mr. Mulder," Dana gasped. "Whenever did you find the time?" "Thank you, Mrs. Mulder," he grinned and bowed, "I woke up each night to work on it when you were sleeping. You have been sleeping much more lately for some reason." Mulder gently patted DanaÕs growing middle, then leaned down and spoke, "isnÕt that right, Harvey, youÕre so good for letting mommy sleep." "Mulder," Dana slapped the back of his head playfully, "Please stop calling our daughter Harvey!" Mulder laughed and straightened. "YouÕve seen my surprise. WhatÕs yours, Dana?" "This letter just came in the post - itÕs to you from Columbia University. Could this be -" "It is," Mulder exclaimed, "IÕve been accepted into their Ph.D. program!" Mulder laughed, grabbed Dana, and twirled her around. "This means I can continue my studies of Freud and Jung, and perhaps help others, too." Mulder stopped and gazed seriously at his wife. "All I have is because of you, Dana. You found me, you saved me, and with the Pulitzer prize money you earned this year from your exposˇ of the Haven, youÕre even managing to finance my new profession." "We saved each other, Mulder," Dana tenderly put her hand over MulderÕs heart. "You never gave up, despite the odds against you from the beginning. You gave me the faith to believe that change for the better is always possible, no matter how it looks at the moment." "Then we believe the same thing," Mulder declared. Their kisses sealed their vows. The End