TITLE: Shadows In Silence – An X-Files Novel AUTHOR: Hiding in the Light (hidinginthelight@hotmail.com) HOMEPAGE: http://www.geocities.com/hiding_light/Homepage.htm CATEGORY: XRHA (X-File, MSR, Humor, Angst--plus a little myth) SPOILERS: A big emphasis on one scene from The Movie (FTF) plus a ton of episodes up to Season 6, heavy on Detour, Ascension. KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance, MPOV & SPOV, character death (Not Mulder or Scully!) SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully go undercover as bird-lovers to investigate a case located in one of the government's most beautiful national parks. What begins as routine almost instantly turns into a race against man playing God, the darkness of the past hidden in the Virginia mountains determined to break through the silence. ARCHIVE: Yes to auto-archives, although no to Gossamer, I will send it myself. Sure to anyone else, but a URL would be nice if you have a minute to send one. For everyone: headers stay attached, please. If you would like the story in its entirety, no parts, you can find it at this link: http://www.geocities.com/hiding_light/shadowsinsilence.txt DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, CSM, Skinner, and the Lone Gunmen aren't mine, they were just borrowed to take a trip out to the Blue Ridge Mountains. They will be returned safely back to 1013 at the end of the story. Shenandoah National Park, Skyland, University of Virginia, University Medical Center, mentioned trails, towns, whatever, are obviously not mine as well. Now on the other hand, Skyhigh, Gil, Paul, Dorothy, Big John, Andrew, Beth, Lou, and a couple others are all a figment of my warped imagination. DEDICATION: This is my first/second piece of fanfic, although published second, but started first, which would not have been possible without all of my wonderful x-pals I've met on the net. I'm very lucky to have been in the right place in the right time to meet these terrific people, so thanks so much (it's alphabetical, guys :o)) Corrine, DD4me2, G!, and Haskell! And of course, a special thanks goes out to Corrine and DD4me2. If it wasn't for Corrine and our nightly writing sessions, this story would never have gotten done before the year 2010 *L* so I'm very grateful and lucky to have such a great writing partner and beta! And I also thank DD4me2 who also was a wonderful help and beta, waiting so patiently for me to edit each section of story. *L* Both of you were a gigantic part of bringing this story to life--thank you both! FEEDBACK: "Don't think--just pick up the mouse and make it Happen." Yes, I know this one is one of the weirder ones you've come across, but I've really enjoyed working on this for the last year. Send any kinds of comments you like, excluding flames of course, and I'll be sure to get back to you! It's only my first/second story...just ah, reminding everyone about that again. :o) NOTES PART I: I actually started this story over a year ago, close to the end of season 6 and into the summer afterwards. I then let it collect dust for almost a year when I started my website, (which I love, of course)--before I picked it back up. Since a good 50% of the story has the characters in Season 6 context, that's where I kept them. This was started, I believe, not long after Arcadia, but before the end of Season 6 and before the "Mulder's god-module was turned on" storyline from Biogenesis. This is not a post-ep of any kind, but that is where the timeline for the story falls. So if you have a good season 6 memory, you'll find all kinds of little references here and there, and I left the "six year" timeline in since this is when the story takes place. I'm 99.9% sure I didn't add anything from season 7 (hey, CC, I had the "Amor Fati" phrase first) and definitely, the Millennium kiss has not happened as well, and they have not done the "naked pretzel" as Requiem might point to. The story is mainly lighthearted, which is what I enjoy writing the most, but there are some very tense moments included as well. The reason I picked the Blue Ridge Mountain/Shenandoah National Park area is because it is a place close to home to me. I lived there for years before moving to Florida, and I took two trips back there in '99, also spurring me on as a perfect place to send Mulder and Scully on an adventure. And of course, as I'm sure you remember, a lot of mytharc revolves around Skyland Mountain which is an actual mountain located in the park, but that's not where the myth will come to play in the story. Keep moving farther west. :o) Now Skyhigh is a fictitious mountain created by me, as well as the camp, but the rest of the facts about the area do exist and are as accurate as possible. (I may stretch a few things for fictitious purposes--especially the trails--the names are real though *L*) The angle of birds started out as a comic relief, to keep the parts entertaining and fun, but as you'll see it turned out to really fit together like a puzzle. Research notes on the national park, birds, and on a topic that relates to M&S's case will be at the end so none of the plot will be given away here. But before I turn the notes into a novel in itself, I'll stop while I'm ahead...notes part II at end. *L* Enjoy! Started: May 01, 1999 Finished: September 01, 2000 X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X Shenandoah National Park: "The act of standing still can leave you breathless." X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ------------------------------------------------------------------- |X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X| |X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X| |X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X SHADOWS IN SILENCE X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X| |X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X| |X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X| ------------------------------------------------------------------- HEAR THE SILENCE --------------------- 4:31 PM – FRIDAY RT. 29 BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS --------------------- <<"I found my thrill, oooon blueberry hill...on blueberry hi--">> Click. "Aw, come on, Scully, that's a classic." "Some classics get old after hearing them four times in the last two hours." "Well, there's always bluegrass." Scully's ice-blue eyes focused on the road as her hand returned to the sun-warmed leather of the steering wheel. She allowed the light blue sedan to sway gently around the snaking, steep turns of the Virginia mountains, the brakes already red-hot but dutifully grinding on the ascent. "And anyway, I thought you were an Indian guide." "No, this isn't an Indian guide problem." Mulder retorted, straightening his tall, muscular frame in the passenger seat, a road map crinkling from his hand's failed attempt to untangle the folded sections. He furiously studied the jagged lines through a pair of black Armani sunglasses, relieved that his partner's knowing eyes weren't able to confirm his bluffing through the dark lenses. "I'm always right when I'm driving...and see, I'm not driving." Scully was silent as she fought the corners of her mouth from revealing a tiny smile. Her silky auburn hair, the color of an autumn harvest, fluttered in the cool mountain breeze that showered through the open car window. Their destination was 72 miles from Washington D.C., a shorter trek than many of the cases that had fallen into their hands, albeit her partner was looking down at the thin paper in his lap like it was a map of another planet. Scully knew it was more than likely they had made a wrong turn, but after all of the places she had traveled to with her partner, he should have been a map-reading pro by that time. She wouldn't deny that it couldn't have been a more perfect day for traveling. When they had left their basement office, the dark underbelly of the Hoover Building's most unwanted, the temperature was crisp and alive against her skin, spurring her to win the battle with Mulder to keep the car windows down. They had left the skyscrapers and congested streets behind them, the lush green earth and open sky ahead, a row of mountains gray against the horizon. They had passed through the beautiful backcountry of Northwestern Virginia, sweeping by old fields dotted with well-manicured plantations or tiny farmhouses, grazing flocks of sheep and cows, tall Mennonite silos, and steeples from turn-of-the-century churches pointing proudly into the heavens. Mulder had preoccupied himself with reading pamphlets out loud, but she had only half-listened, soaking in the scenery instead. Scully glanced toward Mulder while the smell of deciduous trees full of leaf wafted into the car, drowning out the pungent smell of his carefully placed Tweety bird air freshener. "Here we go, Scully," Mulder spoke up again as he traced a red line with the pad of his finger, his feet shuffling the empty takeout bags on the floor, "I think we're on the right track. The camp should only be about ten more miles from here." "Are you sure?" She asked suspiciously, glancing over to the map out of the corner of her eye, trying to prove Mulder's findings for herself. "We should have been there a half hour ago." Mulder ran a hand through his short, dark hair before giving Scully an assuring smile. "Hey, I survived a trip to Antarctica didn't I?" "Yeah, you said you made a lucky discovery by accidentally falling down a hole." Mulder cleared his throat noisily. "The details aren't important, Scully, it's the end result that counts." Scully didn't look convinced. "I guess we'll find out soon enough." Mulder attempted to continue. "Great." Scully muttered, not finding Mulder's crooked grin amusing...well, maybe a little, but it was something she could never admit to the gloating companion next to her. She and her partner had a certain rapport together--a seven year relationship built on a solid foundation of mutual trust, grown ever so closely together through hardships, their work, and from evil forces that threatened their very foundation. "Oh come on, Scully, what's wrong with getting back to nature for a week? You can get in touch with your transcendental side, and you can eat all the bee pollen you want." "Mulder," Scully sighed, the muscles around her lips threatening to form a smile once more, "My ideal vacation is not spending a week at a bird watching camp. I didn't even like camp when I was a kid...not to mention birds." "Yeah, but what kid likes camp? You're stuck in a cabin full of kids bigger than you who short-sheet your bed and put your underwear on the flagpole..." Scully raised an inquiring eyebrow. "...and besides," Mulder continued emphatically, giving his partner a silent message not to pursue his statement, "I told you about my praying mantis experience..." a chill ran through him at the thought, "...nature and I don't exactly get along. Sure, fish are acceptable since they stay in their designated area and I stay in mine, but that's where the line is drawn." "Tell me about it." Scully muttered, her eyes saddening at a distant memory of a run-in with an alligator on one of Mulder's usual trips. "Of course, if they had x-files back when I was a kid maybe camp would have been a lot more interesting. But now we have two missing hikers, vanished without a trace in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Over two million annual visitors come here for refuge from their urban lives, and suddenly for the first time people go missing? Did you read those reports of strange noises being heard that same night? It's a classic X-File, Scully. Classic." "I'm starting to get a cold chill every time you mention something classic." Scully sighed, seeing a smug grin on her partner's lips. She refrained from letting out a sigh, "Well, do you really have to make it worse by going undercover as bird-lovers ourselves?" "I let you pick the names this time, didn't I?" Mulder asked proudly, leaning back into the softness of his seat. "And besides, the camp director said he didn't want the other campers to become frightened, or for the media to swarm the place. Keeping Shenandoah National Park's image pristine is an order all the way from the top. All we have to do is wing-it." Scully cringed at Mulder's intended pun. "I don't even like birds. I mean, all they do is..." Suddenly a hard splat resounded against the windshield. "Talk about coincidence." Scully muttered, her thin brows furrowing in disgust. "I think we've been welcomed, Scully." "Shut up, Mulder." ------------------ 5:49 PM - FRIDAY SKYHIGH BIRD CAMP SKYHIGH MOUNTAIN ------------------ The exhausted tires of the sedan rolled to a stop in front of Skyhigh Lodge, Scully choosing from a variety of empty parking spots in the 'guests' section. Being undercover, Mulder had wanted to go on the initial Skyhigh bus tour of Skyhigh Mountain with the other campers, but Scully had produced enough rational explanations on needing a car that she had finally won. Well, the threat of not going at all seemed to be the clincher. A canopy of hemlocks shaded the welcoming oval of neatly trimmed grass and mountain laurel, the sun creating green pools on the ground as it elbowed it's way through the leaves. The Lodge was nestled proudly amongst the dense trunks, its heavy, dark wood face gaped invitingly, the weathered shingles gleaming above the tree tops. Two dozing pigeons rested comfortably at the roof's apex, their beaks tucked tightly into the down of their feathers, still and calm as if they knew they had found a perfect home at last. Most of the Lodge's windows, which branched around both sides, were open to the summer breeze, tendrils of white curtain occasionally peeking like playful gophers through the black holes. Scully was the first one out of the car, glad to be rid of Mulder's Tweety air freshener that had tauntingly dangled on the rearview mirror for the last two hours. She breathed the thin, high-altitude air into her lungs, the temperature far cooler than it had been a few thousand feet below. She squinted through the thick hedge of foliage that surrounded the Lodge, barely able to discern the shape of tiny cabins in the distance, but could easily hear the liquid swirl of a large body of water, possibly a lake or river. She could dimly see into the Lodge's windows, noticing folk art of preserved tools and implements hanging on the wall, of mason jars filled with colorful pastas and beans resting on high shelves. She turned back to the car, her legs feeling like straw from the long hours of sitting and driving, her muscles sore and cramped as she gave them a long stretch. "See, I told you we'd be here in no time." Mulder said good- humoredly from the other side of the car. "Mulder, it was ten more miles after we entered the Swift Run Gap Station, not from where we were an hour ago." Scully spoke irritably, catching her reflection in the car window. She was used to seeing herself in tailored, sleek suits that her job required, but she practically felt naked wearing a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a white tourist shirt with 'Virginia is for Lovers' plastered across the front. Mulder had been in charge of picking out appropriate undercover clothes at a small strip mall they had stopped at while she had insisted on ordering lunch, making an attempt to acquire something halfway healthy. Although her partner had had a mischievous gleam in his eye when he had returned, Scully noted that next time she would let his arteries harden before she wore that outfit again. "It's all relative, Scully. The important thing is that we're here." Mulder casually answered, giving his partner a wry grin and a shrug of his wide shoulders. He lifted his sunglasses away from his hazel eyes, the glow on his clean-cut features revealing his enthusiasm for the new X-File at hand. It was obvious that he could not wait to start investigating; it was his life's work, his passion. One hundred miles or one thousand miles made no difference on his quest for 'the truth' about paranormal and unexplained phenomena. A low, tired rumble in the distance reached their ears, and they both turned in the direction of the sound. A faded, yellow bus, the roof practically bleached white from years of sun exposure, slowly climbed up the last steep slope of road before evening off at the camp's entrance. The mufflerless wonder had the words "Skyhigh Bird Camp" painted in bold black letters on its side, its balding tires gratefully easing themselves across the hard-packed greenstone road. The silhouette of a camouflage-brown ranger's hat could be seen from the driver's window, the bus reaching its final destination only a few feet away from Mulder and Scully's car. "It's the cavalry." Mulder chided to Scully as the clunking of shoes against the bus's steps reached their ears, the long line of windows filling with bobbing heads as people crowded the middle aisle. Passengers of all sizes scattered from the bus with excited and nervous chattering, laughing delightedly at a well-timed joke by the ranger. Scully began moving toward the trunk of the car, pretending to look uninterested, but she couldn't help noticing the array of people, young and old, holding on to bird guides, binoculars, even cameras and camcorders which were strapped to their necks or shoulders. Their attire was unanimously shorts and light t-shirts, some form of hiking boots on their feet while different shapes of hats protected their heads. At least, Scully figured, she had a chance that her attire would blend in. Snippets from strange voices, such as "It's so beautiful" to "Where's the bathrooms?" floated to her ears as she moved to lift her suitcase from the trunk of the car. A strong arm with numerous overdeveloped muscles whipped in front of her. "Let me get that." Mulder volunteered, hoisting the heavy suitcases onto the ground in one fluent motion. Scully debated whether to let Mulder continue since she was very capable of lifting her own suitcases. She had set her equality standards with Mulder over the past six years they had worked together, and she relied on her own inner strength, a guard that she never allowed to falter. Taking hold of the situation, Scully reached down and grabbed a suitcase in each hand. "Thanks, Mulder, I'll take it from here." Mulder nodded his light brown head, giving Scully a look of respect and understanding that she didn't seem to notice since she was about to fall over trying to prove her point. The ranger had unlocked the back doors, the crowd moving as a large wave to the back of the bus. Strange looks passed Mulder and Scully's way, Mulder turning to give an acknowledging nod with his head. "She gets motion sickness." He whispered in a tone that clearly spelled it out for the campers. They exchanged grateful looks with him for keeping Scully off the bus while the ray of death was assaulting him from behind. A young girl, possibly nine, peered at Scully with curiosity, her mother suddenly appearing behind her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into the crowd. They practically ran over a solidly built man as he picked up two large suitcases, an ugly red scar snaking up his almost-bald head. "So a little motion sickness never hurt anyone." A woman's voice warmly reprimanded the crowd in a tone of wisdom while tiny, shriveled hands poked out to grab two large bags. A weather-worn, tattered Panama hat bobbed its way from the center of the crowd, an elderly woman no higher than five feet with a low-slung bosom appearing after a "move it, George" and a playful whack on an older man's shins, shooing him out of her way. Once free from the group of birders, she pulled her hat away from her head in triumph, sprays of gray hair zigzagging into the wind, giving her brow a quick wipe with the back of her hand. "Why, hello there!" she greeted with a wonderful laugh, light and infectious. "I'm Dorothy, by the way. Now don't let those codgers give you a hard time--they're as harmless as a group of newly hatched baby wrens." Mulder and Scully smiled politely, Dorothy continuing before they were able to get in a word edgewise. "I've already met the others on the bus, but you two almost snuck by me." Dorothy spoke, clicking her tongue as if this action was not allowed when it came to her. She was clad in bird-watching gear, a thick strap for binoculars anchored around her neck, a bulging zip- pouch hugging her hips, stretched and filled with unidentifiable objects. "I've been coming to The Park ever since I was a little girl, and I'm sure you can imagine how long ago that might have been!" she gaily laughed, "But I never miss a new face in these parts. I've been coming 'round this particular camp for over ten years now, but once you've come here, you can't help but keep coming back. And if you have to ask why, just look at this place!" She called, sweeping a hand around her in a circle, "For the scenery, the people, and, of course, the birds. Let me let you in on a little secret--if I had been Roosevelt, I would've preserved this place too. The Audubon Society has reported that there are 206 species of bird in the area. Can you believe I've spotted 171 species here so far? Isn't it grand?!" "And I'm the one who gets nicknamed 'Spooky'." Mulder muttered, feeling the bemused stare Scully was giving him. "Look at you two!" Dorothy continued, positively delighted as her eyes swept over Mulder's tall frame, cheeks lighting up with an flush of pink. She leaned in closer to Scully. "Your shirt says it all, my dear. That's quite a specimen you have! If I were only thirty years younger you'd have some competition on your hands." Scully's mouth opened to make an immediate protest, feeling Mulder's ego growing larger by the second. "Well this year I'm still...oh my!" Dorothy gasped, clambering with the lens on her binoculars with her bony fingers, suddenly looking out toward the edge of the woods. "It's a family of Bobwhite quail...there's at least 10...no, 15!" "Bobwhites? Where are they?" a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses whispered when he overheard from the side of the bus, dropping his suitcases and making a mad scramble toward the older woman. He was in step behind Dorothy in a matter of seconds as she headed toward the woods, binoculars plastered to their faces. Scully glanced over to the group in horror as others were pulling out binoculars, cameras, and even their camcorders! "Mulder," she hissed, "you are going to owe me big time for this." "Now, Scully," Mulder cajoled, "get out your binoculars--you're gonna' miss the quail." ------------------------------ 6:11 PM - FRIDAY SKYHIGH BIRD CAMP ORIENTATION ------------------------------ "Howdy, folks!" A voice greeted, a tall, wiry man emerging from the Lodge's double doors. His gray eyes delightedly lit up at the sight of the large crowd hovering by the Lodge, his boots clacking rhythmically down the front steps. Remnants of white blonde hair were peeking through a quickly annihilating gray, his hand making an occasional wave to familiar faces he spotted in the crowd. His attire was simple: jeans faded white at the knee accentuated by a large, silver belt buckle, shirt with a bolo swinging beneath its collar, and a large white cockatoo atop his right shoulder. Mulder watched with interest as the man reached up to the bird, his hand communicating against the soft, white feathers, his voice unnecessary. The bird immediately calmed beneath his touch, cocking his head happily in response. Mulder had immediately recognized him...although the bird was a new addition to the camp proprietor who had come to them only days earlier when they had been turned on the case. He was the only one who knew about their undercover investigation, fully understanding the seriousness of the disappearances and eager to keep Shenandoah and his campers protected. After meeting with him once, Mulder was convinced this man was a Mr. Rogers turned western. He wouldn't have been surprised if Gil sat down on the front steps and rolled a trolley around, ready to take them behind the Lodge into the land of make believe. Of course, Scully had not looked amused when he had mentioned just that. "May I have your attention please?" he called politely, his smile practically beaming as he made another sweep across the sea of faces with his steel gray eyes, spotting Mulder and Scully standing in the back. "Thank you," he continued as the eager group settled to listen. "Welcome to Skyhigh Bird Camp. My name is Gil Hahn and this guy on my shoulder is our friend, Mac. If you ever need anything during your stay here, he's the guy to talk to." The bird lovers enjoyed the joke with a round of laughter. Mulder could feel Scully's eyes burn into the back of his head. "With the help of National Park Service, the NPS, and the Audubon Society, this camp was born almost twenty years ago. We started out with four cabins, my aviary, and a tent where we served meals. But folks kept showing up, expressing their love for birds, ecstatic that there was a place completely devoted just for our feathered friends. Because of these people and because of you, this camp has grown into the wonderful resource it is today, and I'm so glad you have chosen Skyhigh for your stay here in Shenandoah. We have plenty of bird activities for you to do here, which you may have read in your pamphlets, but over tonight's dinner we will talk about that further and answer any questions you might have. We have a great meal waiting for you, so without further stalling, let me quickly introduce you to my rangers on staff so they can show you the dining hall and help you to your assigned cabins." At that moment, two women and one man emerged from the cabin, wearing trademark Skyhigh shirts and camouflage ranger hats. At the sight of the man, Mulder noticed Scully had immediately perked up despite herself. He was an absolute mammoth of a man; mountain rugged with a certain wildness in his eyes, six feet of suntan crammed into a pair of tan shorts, his arms and legs sinewy with muscle. A teasing dimple appeared when he turned on his roguish smile. "Well, well," Mulder muttered, "if it isn't Paul Bunyan himself." Scully stood there unblinking, oblivious to Mulder's snide comment. Mulder gave Scully an estranged look, feeling a moment of deja vu. As the rangers began herding the crowd to their destinations, Gil walked over to them, his thin frame moving lightly across the ground in an easy step, Mac enjoying the ride with an effortless grip of his clawed feet. "Hello again," he spoke brightly, grabbing one of Scully's suitcases before she could protest. "I'm glad you made it, ah, Kate and Henry..." "Rickman and Montgomery." Scully triumphantly finished, Mulder's showing her a sour face over her choice. "Traveling friends from New York." "Hey wait, I thought we picked Pennsylvania..." "Hello!" a high-pitched voice echoed from Gil's shoulder, making Mulder and Scully both smile. Gil let out a hearty chuckle as he noticed the sudden change in Mulder's expression, giving the agent a pat with one of his thin hands. Mulder was surprised at the strength behind the wiry man's gesture as the proprietor continued, "Well, it could be worse." "Exactly." Scully jumped in smugly, giving Mulder a knowing glance. Mulder pretended to be keenly interested in what Gil was telling them. "Anyway, let me show you where you'll be staying." Gil continued, still managing to keep Scully's suitcase away from her at Mulder's amusement. They followed a tiny trail made of loose gravel that crunched under the pressure of his Gil's boots. Mulder could feel the small edges of rock attempting to pierce through the soles of his sneakers, his feet making tiny corrections to stay flat against the surface. The heart of the camp was even more aesthetically pleasing than he had pictured, a wide porch bending around the back of the Lodge, a handful of campers already eating dinner at the tables scattered along the railing. Next to the Lodge, a large structure stood hidden in the trees, Mulder unsure of what it was exactly. Extending from the Lodge was a large expanse of green lawn, on the right it slowly rolled down to the gray-blue waters of an oblong lake, to the left it climbed upward into another growth of trees and to tiny log cabins scattered within. Behind the cabin area was an almost sheer cliff of rock where the mountain continued to grow higher into the blue expanse of sky. He could see several hiking trails disappearing into the thick mountain growth. "Have you two read over the pamphlets?" Gil chatted easily, Mac's body bobbing with the motion of Gil's shoulder. "I apologize for the bathroom situation. We've been working on a fund for years to get bathrooms added to the cabins, but for now, the central shower and bathroom units are right near the cabins and are very clean. The campers usually don't mind too much. I know accommodations probably aren't as nice as you two are used to..." Scully snorted, but quickly turned it into a throat clearing matter as two pairs of eyes turned on her. "Thank you, that will be just fine. We'd like to get started right away." Mulder said eagerly, directing attention away from his scoffing partner as he pressed his hand into the small of her back to keep her moving. He could almost feel her skin through the light cotton, warm and soft. It was oddly different than when she was layered in work clothes, and he quickly took his hand away, knowing his thoughts were in uncharted territory that he wasn't allowed to cross. He couldn't help but wonder what went through is partner's mind when he did that, but he figured more than likely she didn't think about it at all. Gil looked up as they moved across freshly mown grass, his gaze suddenly a million miles away. A dark shadow looped in lazy arcs against the sky, silent and graceful. As high up as they were, life continued to exist above them. "Goldfinch." Mac garbled loudly, his gold plumage rising high on his tiny head. Mulder and Scully followed suit and turned their eyes skyward, hands moving to their foreheads to shade their irises from the sun's rays. "Amazing." Mulder commented. "Your bird can tell what species he sees?" Gil chuckled, reaching his hand toward Mac to communicate silently with him once again, telling his bird how proud he was of him. "I've had Mac since he was a baby...which was twenty-two years ago. He's obviously been around me too long." Mulder couldn't help but smile at Gil and his companion, momentarily forgetting the burning from his biceps. It wasn't hard to notice the amazing bond Gil had established with animals. Gil's gentleness seemed to attract them to him, to trust him with their lives, an innocent trust. "I'd say he knows about twenty species right off-hand, but he has a huge vocabulary when he feels like sharing with you." Gil added, a genuine, sparkling smile appearing as he discussed Mac. The two agents continued their suitcase-lugging trek in silence, exchanging curious glances. It had been one thing to meet Gil in their office, but seeing Gil in his element was something they had never expected. Walking underneath another canopy of leaves from large oaks and pines, Gil showed them their cabins, apologizing that he only had one empty cabin available to squeeze them in. He explained that in case they weren't comfortable with the arrangements, Gil did have an empty bed left in a cabin with a man and his son, so he left the option open to the two agents. As always, Scully was quick to make the decision. Mulder's destination was first, a cabin directly facing a shower unit, a coca-cola machine spouting red light through the cabin's open doorway. He hoped the back of the cabin had a better view since it was at least facing through the trees down to the lake. Gil had moved ahead with Scully to show her the other cabin. At least, Mulder equated, they would be able to set up their equipment in Scully's cabin without anyone noticing. He could feel Scully's triumphant vibes all the way from the other side of the campsite, but in no way would he allow that to be a victory to her. Mulder lugged his suitcases toward the cabin, the outside wood made out of round, dark logs, a brick chimney sitting quietly on the left side. The cabins were more or less situated in a circular pattern, a large space of grass in the middle with two buildings that looked similar to the cabins for the campers to shower in. Two young boys were out playing Frisbee in the middle, a third tossing around a football. He could hear one of them laugh as the Frisbee went careening to the side, one of the boys running by picnic tables and grills in search for the Frisbee. Now being closer to the lake, he could see canoes tied to a large, well-built dock, bobbing with the small waves that lapped at their sides. A group of ducks waddled happily along the edge of the water, waggling their tails and hunting for bugs until someone came along with a loaf of bread. Mulder ignored a tiny growl at the pit of his stomach as the determination to uncover a new x-file overpowered any appetite he had. He knew that Skyland Mountain was only around twenty miles away, also located in the National Park. He had debated about whether or not too bring up the subject on the car ride over, but he had decided against it, allowing his curiosity to continue wondering what thoughts were running through his partner's mind. Mulder stepped inside his assigned cabin--dark from the drawn curtains, but he could make out an empty bed in the back. As he ambled in with his luggage, faint beeping sounds turned his attention to the bed closest to his. A young boy around 11 or 12 was sitting on the edge, statue still, except for his rapidly moving thumbs against the buttons of a hand-held video game. Every once in a while, the bed springs creaked beneath him as his barrel-shaped body slightly jumped, as if he was in the game himself. Even through the darkness of the cabin, his curly bright red hair was unmistakable, his blue overalls puckering and stretching with his movements. He didn't even look up when Mulder entered. "Something that requires batteries." Mulder attempted to break the ice, a half-grin across his lips. "I'm sure there's rules around here about that kind of paraphernalia." The video game music suddenly stopped, two gray eyes soundlessly giving Mulder a once over. Two round cheeks, splashed with freckles, puffed around his jaws as his face remained completely expressionless. The boy's eyes were surprisingly mischievous, giving Mulder a cold chill racing up and down his spine. "Or not." Mulder muttered under his breath, quickly busying himself with piling his luggage into one gigantic heap in the closet. Scully was going to pay for the pleasures of her empty cabin. "You stayin' wit' us?" the boy asked Mulder as if he was an interrogator for the NYPD, his face hard and unreadable. "Looks that way." Mulder quipped, pushing against the closet door with his hands, finally giving up and adding his foot into the process. "Ya' snore?" "I hardly sleep." "Uh-huh." The boy continued, clearly not believing this stranger who would be sleeping in a bed only six feet away. He slowly set down the video game, his movements an enigma as Mulder kept a close watch on the boy from the corner of his eye. The boy deliberately took his time reaching under his pillow, a flash of fearlessness settling as a small white spark in his eyes. Mulder stopped his ministrations with the closet door as he felt the boy's mocking stare sweep over him. A short, puffy arm pulled out a large blue and neon green gun, covered with buttons and different gadgets. Amazing, Mulder thought, how high-tech the toys of today were. "This is my Tsunami CPS-3200--the ultimate water weapon in Super Soaker technology. If I hear one peep from you in the middle of the night..." A loud motor sounded as a spray of water flashed across the room, reminding Mulder of an opened fire hydrant. "...this is what you'll get right between the eyes." Mulder gave a horrified look, moving his hand defiantly in the air, "Now wait just a minute here, boy, I don't..." The gun made another loud whir across the cabin. ----------------- 10 MINUTES LATER ----------------- "Mulder, how in the world did you get your shirt wet?" Mulder grumbled incoherently, making his way to a nearby chair. His partner was already down-to-business unpacking equipment while talking to Gil. He felt another twinge as he looked at the space and privacy she had. He hadn't really taken a good look around his own cabin since he had been assaulted by Hurricane Andrew, but now he noticed the roomy, squarish room, dusty radiators lining the bottom of the walls, paintings of birds encased in gilt, heavy frames staring at them with their empty, green eyes. The floor was made of a cheap pine, a round rug in the middle, a smaller, square version covered with traffic patterns over by the door. A rectangular fluorescent light intermittently flickered above his head, a tiny moth occasionally circling around it, landing in different spots in an attempt to find warmth. Besides three beds, one on each wall, two chairs and a table, that was all the cabin consisted of. Simple. Of course, Scully didn't have two other roommates, but plenty of space to enjoy. She could have run around naked if she wanted to, Mulder figured, not ready to give up that image so quickly. Scully turned her head to make eye contact with her partner for only a second, scowling at Mulder's smug grin and distant look in his eyes. Mulder quickly cleared his throat, sitting straighter in the chair while acknowledging her with an innocent look. She returned to checking the attachments for one of their cameras, her curiosity eating at her as to what had happened to his shirt. They had brought along a variety of equipment, being that they were undercover and far away from the closest field office. It now lined the far wall of the cabin, Scully content after checking it over, she grabbed a folder and turned to Gil. "Well," Gil breathed as he took a seat in a dusty chair, worry lines now evident across his leathery brow, "I just want to thank you again for coming out here. It's been really hard on the staff with these strange things happening. My top ranger, Lou Farrand, and the camper he was hiking with, Beth Andrews, have been missing for almost 48 hours now." "And you say they were heading out to a place called North Ridge to observe a family of bald eagles?" Scully stepped in, familiar with the preliminary case facts from reading the folder the night before they had left. "Ah, birds of prey." Gil drifted, his eyes glazing while images of birds swooped and danced in his mind's eye. "Yes, Lou's favorite bird was the bald eagle. For many years he worked with a team that tagged and observed their migratory patterns during the winter. He was very proud of his work, still kept in touch with the group, but wanted to be a ranger out here to share his love for birds. We have about five families of eagle down at North Ridge that give the campers an enjoyable view in the summer. This was Lou's favorite place to go, naturally, so it didn't seem odd at all when they left. He's been there so many times I couldn't even begin to keep count." Mulder looked amused as he pulled a bag of sunflower seeds out of a suitcase. The crinkling from the opened bag brought Gil back to attention. Mulder held the bag out to Gil, "Seeds?" "Don't mind if I do." Gil said kindly, grabbing a handful. "Ah, Scully, a man of taste." Mulder mused, popping a seed into his mouth. Suddenly Mac's yellowed plumage fluttered upward, his black, beady eyes shining as his wings spread and took flight. With three distinct thrusts of feather against air, clawed feet poised ahead of his white body, Mac was on a mission. Mulder's face deadpanned while it made a skilled landing on his shoulder, immediately craning his neck toward Mulder's hands. "Well," he whispered, cringing from the huge gray beak nipping at his cheek, "I think the praying mantis story just got topped." This brought a hard-worn smile to Gil's face. "Mac can smell a sunflower seed a mile away." Mulder grinned, "*And* a bird of taste." Scully, blatantly ignoring the male...and bird...bonding, prompted Gil to continue, clearing her throat with sarcasm meant just for Mulder. "Is it normal for one of your staff members to take only one person out bird watching?" "Well, not on a usual basis, but this was Beth's fourth time here. She and Lou had become the best of friends since her first visit. I know Beth really loved eagles as well--they instantly clicked since Lou had so many stories to share from his previous line of work. About two years ago on one of their hikes along the river, they found an older male eagle with an injured wing. They immediately brought him back here and we nursed him back to health. Over that month of taking care of him, he bonded with Beth, so we gave him a new home in the aviary. She gave him an unusual name, Polar Cap, but called him PC for short. This wasn't their first outing together either. They've taken many daytime hikes together when Lou had a couple of free hours." "Were they romantically involved?" Scully continued. "I don't suppose they were--Skyhigh has rules about that concerning staff members and campers. Lou certainly never mentioned anything of the sort, and whenever I saw the two of them together, they just seemed to be having a great time--like a brother and sister." "Seed." Mac piped up in his high, scratchy voice, his mouth gaping. "Now Mac, what do you say?" Gil asked in an affectionate tone that a father would use on his child. "Seed, please." Mac tried again, a loving smile forming on Gil's lips. Mulder held a seed out with cautious fingers, making a fast drop and retreat when Mac's beak snaked in his direction. The seed missed the bird's mouth, landing on Mulder's forearm. The agent was horrified as Mac went running down his arm. Scully blatantly ignored Mulder's sudden howl of terror as she continued. "So after they didn't come back by nightfall, it was then that you started to worry?" "Right. The policy around here is that our bird-watchers are in by nightfall, unless of course it's one of our group night watches. There are many nocturnal species in these parts that it wouldn't be right not to go out and see...." "Plenty of night-owls, eh?" Mulder mused, making a poor attempt to lure Mac back to his owner by nonchalantly tossing a seed toward Gil's lap. "Okay, Mr. Hahn," Scully purposefully cut in, giving Mulder a patented death glare, "and then you decided to go search?" "Well, that was the plan. At the time I had two other rangers on staff, both which are still here, and we formed three groups, me leading one of them. We hadn't gone more than 100 yards into the woods before we stopped dead in our tracks. That's when we heard the noise." Mulder now perked up at this part of the story. "What exactly did the noise sound like?" "Well," Gil spoke thoughtfully, "it was like nothing I've ever heard before. It was this horrible screeching, so loud it hurt our ears. I don't know if it was animal, but the first thing we did was haul our keisters back to the cabins. And the weird part...." Mulder and Scully watched as Gil leaned in closer, holding his palms together tightly, his face turning a pasty white before their eyes, "...is that I've been a bird watcher for 40 years. I know every species, every sound, footprint, nest, habitat, and even every egg type, but this...this almost sounded bird-like, but I have never, ever heard anything like it." "You're saying you heard some kind of bird?" Mulder rephrased, intently listening to Gil's words as a sunflower seed rolled around his mouth, barely missing a darting gray beak attempting to steal it. "I can't say." Gil pondered, almost at a loss of words. "There was something about it...but maybe I was too terrified to be thinking clearly. I've listened to birds since I was a young boy, so by now everything starts sounding bird-like." "Have you heard it since?" Scully asked, opening up their case folder to add a few more formulated notes, her pen scratching hastily against the paper surface. "It's been two days, but I hope I never hear it again." Gil spoke seriously. "I'm afraid for my guests and my staff--I don't want anyone else to disappear out there. If there is any chance that you can find them, please do it soon. Lou is a ranger and is trained in the art of survival, and he knows the Park terrain very well, but if too much time goes by...I just don't want to fear the worst." "Of course, Mr. Hahn," Scully assured as her pen stopped writing, "We'll check it out. They could simply be injured and not capable to make it back to a camp or ranger station. There is no need to panic your campers who have been on waiting lists and have made reservations months in advance. After all, this is one of the safest places to be, right?" "Well, a lot of us never lock our doors at night...and this is the popular time of the year." Gil said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. He ran his hands along his gray sideburns as his brow created more lines of worry around his eyes and sagging jaw. "Mr. Hahn," Mulder spoke up, tossing an empty seed shell into a nearby wastebasket while Mac traveled across his back to the other shoulder, tiny claws pricking his skin through his shirt. Mulder tried to remain focused. "Whatever happened to where Lou and Beth were staying?" "Well, their belongings are still as they left them. I locked up those two cabins and haven't opened them since. Doesn't help when we have a booked week of campers, but I didn't know what else to do. I-I just don't have the stomach to go through their belongings...I'm holding on to the hope for their safe return." "You think we could take a look at them?" Mulder continued. Scully's piercing blue eyes looked at Mulder curiously. "Sure, I have the keys right here." Gil answered, unclipping a large ring of keys from his belt loop. "Lou was in 13A and Beth was in 4B." "Okay, thanks, Mr. Hahn." Mulder said, taking the keys from the wiry man's shaky fingers. "Now go on and enjoy some dinner with your new guests. We'll take it from here." "What about you two? Are you hungry?" Gil cordially asked as he stood, Mac taking the cue to fly back to his owner's shoulder. He landed skillfully, cocking his head at a 60 degree angle to give Mulder a taunting once over with his black eyes. "Well, these seeds will last me a while," Mulder answered, giving his pocket a tantalizing pat for Mac's sake, "but you wouldn't happen to have any tofutti rice cakes or some bird seed here for Kate..." "Henry," Scully emphasized in a warning tone, crossing the entire length of the room in three strides to give him a patented Dr. Scully glare, ironically warming his heart. "As I recall, you have some cleaning to do in the car. There are enough bags in there..." "You never stopped once and littering is punished with a hefty fine in these parts." Mulder reminded in a matter-of-fact tone, "What would Skinner say to that on our expense report? And what was with that low-fat burger anyway--" "Thank you, Mr. Hahn," Scully continued as if Mulder hadn't even spoken. "We ate a little while back." Mulder returned a triumphant stare. "Okay, then, see you tomorrow. And thanks again." Gil said appreciatively, his frame disappearing through the doorway into the darkness of the night, Mac bobbing along on his shoulder. Mulder turned to his partner devilishly, jangling the two keys together in his hand, eyes sparkling. "Well, Scully, your room or mine?" ----------------- 9:19 PM - FRIDAY BETH'S CABIN #4B ----------------- "It sure does get cold when the sun goes down out here." Scully commented, rubbing her small, firm arms covered in goose bumps. Wisps of fog emanated from her mouth as the damp heat of her breath collided with the chilly mountain air. "Come on, Scully," Mulder teased, "we've been in subzero arctic temperatures and a night in the mountains bothers you?" "I never said I liked arctic temperatures." Scully defended, looking ahead while Mulder's flashlight beam penetrated into the thick darkness. Tiny, rectangular pinpoints of yellow light glowed dimly from cabin windows, the darkness of late summer had gathered around them, the light being the only evidence of a cabin being there at all, of the lives inside. The moon was missing that night, casting the mountain into the black shadows of darkness, the world vanishing beyond the circle of cabins. Long, somber calls could be heard from within the neighboring forest, animals uttering their discontent in the black nothingness, while the wind whipped around the two agents with icy fingers. "Well," Mulder spoke up, his voice husky but laced with humor, "as an Indian guide I believe I've briefed you on the art of how to generate body heat." Scully smiled into the darkness, "I don't see any sleeping bags here either, Mulder." "Oh well, third time's always the charm." Scully didn't say a word, possibly not sure what a right response would be. Instead, she killed the awkwardness she felt by saying out loud, "Look, Mulder, I think that's the cabin up ahead." Indeed, a looming dark shadow lurked before them, the cabin sending a signal of utter emptiness and desolation. It was as if it had been outcast from the other cabins--a lonely misfit. It bore more wear than many of the cabins, indicating it must have been one of the first built. "Cabin 4B." Mulder added as they reached the doorstep, "Looks like we're in the right neck of the woods." Mulder paused as he neared the doorway. "Look at this, Scully." Mulder spoke up, moving the flashlight beam to the keyhole. Scully crouched down next to Mulder, her eyes inspecting the keyhole for a moment before asking, "What exactly am I looking at here besides a doorknob?" "Look at the wear around it--almost as if someone was trying to get in without a key." "Or," Scully contradicted as she straightened, "someone who was trying to find the keyhole on a dark night like tonight. Mulder, this cabin has been used by so many campers I'm surprised the doorknob isn't in worse shape than it is." Mulder nodded as he unlocked the door, "Well, that's one opinion. I like to be thorough." A loud creak sounded as the door was pushed open. Scully walked in first, finding a light switch by the doorframe. With the flick of her wrist, a bare 60-watt light illuminated the cold room while jagged shadows were created along the walls. It looked identical to the cabins Mulder and Scully were given, although a woody, mildew odor burned their noses as they noticed two beds hastily left and abandoned, one bed still covered with sheets, personal items piled around it. "This must be Beth's." Mulder said aloud, advancing toward the belongings. Scully threw a latex glove in Mulder's direction. "Until we find them, everything here is evidence." "By the book. Article 13, section 4." Mulder chided, rifling through a drawer after giving the glove a hard snap. Scully made a visual inspection around the rectangular room, checking for anything out of the ordinary. "What exactly are we looking for, Mulder? They disappeared in the woods, not from their rooms." "I'll let you know when I find it." Mulder said absentmindedly, taking a look underneath the bed. Scully looked down at her partner's shiny, clean-cut hair while his face had disappeared behind the dangling sheet. His shoulders were strong and squared, the gray t-shirt he wore stretched and bunched as his shoulder blades moved in harmony with his unseen grappling hands. On the surface he was undeniably handsome, but she never allowed herself to admit it, to think it, and yet her mind continued to deceive her. But that wasn't what struck her so profoundly in her unguarded moments. The man before her possessed an abundance of passion, of pure gold that laid in waiting underneath his protective layers, of something so beautiful that even the tiniest glimpse was as emotionally blinding as staring straight into the sun. But just as the sun, even through unbelievable emotional struggles, his core had continued to burn, a fuel that never ran out. To her, it was magnetic, alluring, a deepness that Scully could not find a beginning to. There was no end to her feelings for her partner, as if it was an abyss that would swallow her forever, a shadow that always lingered right beneath the surface of her skin. "Let's try door number three, Monty." Mulder suddenly spoke in a muffled voice from under the bed, breaking Scully's forbidden thoughts. He peered at her startled expression curiously as he slid a box out from under the bed. "You haven't been seeing little gray men out here, have you?" Scully composed herself rapidly, deliberately ignoring Mulder's question. She settled her small frame on the bed and looked at the box. It was smothered with stickers and tape, holding green faces staring with big round eyes, circular and triangular spacecrafts, three-fingered hands, and many more similar pictures that Scully knew only too well after working seven years with her partner. "The Rosetta Stone." She mumbled, looking at the brilliant spark that flamed in Mulder's hazel eyes. "Scully, look at this." Mulder spoke in an excited tone, like a child opening Christmas presents. He was already rummaging through the box filled with clipped UFO articles on sightings and alleged abductions. Scully knew that box was just fuel to a fire. "Mulder, you probably own every article in there." "I recognize some..." Mulder drifted off absentmindedly, holding some of the articles above his head at an angle to catch more light on them. A bright wedge of color amongst the black and white sea of letters caught Scully's eye. She brushed articles aside with latex fingers, running across the smooth cover of a book. It suspiciously looked like some sort of journal or diary as Scully lifted it into her palms. A bright swirl of pastel birds covered the front, looking like a copy of an oil painting derived from the mind of a well-known artist Scully couldn't decipher. The binding was worn and slightly frayed, giving a crackle as Scully opened it to the first page. A color photo fell out into her lap, her free hand retrieving it to carefully unfold it, a white line bisecting it down the middle. She studied the two carefree, excited faces with wonder. It must have been a picture of Beth and Lou. Beth was slightly overweight with mousy brown hair, but in the photo her eyes sparkled with such sweetness and openness it drew Scully's breath away. A tender arm was around the girl's shoulders, connected to a muscular, blonde man with a surfer haircut, also grinning broadly. Between them sat Mac, happily munching on a sunflower seed while enjoying being the center of attention. Scully guessed Gil had probably taken the picture. They looked so energetic and full of life, Scully observed, a pang filling her heart, what kind of demon out in the woods would annihilate such innocence? "What's that?" Mulder questioned, hands full of papers, but indicated the journal with a thrust of his chin. "It seems to be a journal Beth kept." Scully commented absentmindedly, making a quick flip through the pages. "Looks like Beth started writing in it when she came here, but there isn't that many entries." Scully took another pause, reading more carefully. "Actually, it looks like she only wrote in it the weeks she came here." "If you'll read that, I'll keep reading through all of these articles...unless, of course, you'd like to spend hours reading about UFO sightings from an eyewitness named..." Mulder squinted at a black and white picture, "...'Billy Bob Heathrow, best turkey farmer this side of the valley.' This guy actually still has five of his own teeth." A teasing thrust of brown eyebrows found Scully's attention. "I'll take the first arrangement." "Your loss." Mulder quipped casually. Scully turned back to the journal, fighting to contain a smile threatening to escape. She had to stay serious for these two lost souls in the photograph, and having a partner lit up like the Fourth of July over a box of newspaper wasn't helping matters any. "Scully, you'll never believe this." "What?" she asked, pushing a wave of auburn hair behind her ear to get a better look, still grasping the picture. "Here is the most recent article. It was published only two days before Lou and Beth's disappearances." Mulder explained, moving from the floor to sit next to Scully on the bed. His weight unbalanced Scully as he sat down, sliding her petite figure closer toward him. She attempted not to make an obvious move away, and yet she felt awkward being only inches apart. She could feel the heat radiating from his solid arms as he read from the piece of paper in his hands, almost like she was sitting next to a roaring fire in a fireplace. "It says two people reported seeing strange lights in these mountains," Mulder paraphrased as his eyes rapidly read down the page, "claiming it was a UFO that came down, landed for two minutes, then flew back into the night sky." "Interesting." Scully commented in a flat tone, clearly unbelieving. "And it's not just this article, Scully. It looks like these articles date back four years..." "When Beth started coming to the camp." Scully remembered. "...and they're all related to this area in the mountains. Scully, do you know what this means?" His voice had reached a new pitch. "I'm sure I'm about to." Scully sighed. "I'll bet that when we go to Lou's room we'll find the same things. They both had this common bond, but it wasn't entirely about eagles. They were extraterrestrial-watchers, not bird-watchers, and this camp was a perfect scapegoat for them. Birds of a feather flock together, right Scully?" Scully made no comment to his pun as she reached for Mulder's shoulder to push against to stand back to her feet. She looked down at him, her mind spinning in all directions to debunk his new findings. "So, you're suggesting that these two people went out to find little green men...and they were what...abducted in the woods?" "Exactly--couldn't have said it better myself." Mulder answered, swinging his large frame to his feet, towering above Scully's glowing auburn hair. "I say we take a look at Lou's cabin, but this box here is definitely evidence. It's going with us." Scully nodded, folding her arms with a cynical expression across her smooth-skinned features. Mulder had already packed up the box and was eager to search Lou's cabin to confirm his theory. "Well, I still think they could have been injured. I mean, how do you explain the strange noises?" Scully countered. Mulder opened the cabin door, letting in the cold gusts of night air as he switched the light off. "Who says that wasn't the ship?" "Mulder..." Scully mumbled, the rest of her sentence lost into the night winds. The smell of smoke, a woody, stinging odor, greeted them from a cabin chimney as they walked outside, the steady mountain breeze spreading it across the camp and far into the night. The temperature had dropped a few more degrees during the time they had inspected Beth's cabin, feeling chilled to the bone within minutes as they wordlessly found Lou's cabin after a lightning-fast walk across the camp. On the outside, Lou's cabin looked the same as all of the other cabins, but being an employee cabin, it had been divided into two parts, giving the rangers their own private space to personalize and turn into their home. A light was on next door to Lou's, Scully immediately wondering which ranger was inside. Before her thoughts were allowed to continue, Mulder had unlocked Lou's door and had shooed her in out of the cold. In turning on the light, she could hear Mulder startle next to her, two wall-length eagle posters on each side of a tidy bed, huge brown eyes glaring into the room like watchdogs guarding their territory. "That's enough to give a man nightmares." Mulder commented, moving eye-to-eye with one of the eagles before turning to a large bulletin board, inspecting the pictures of birds tacked one on top of another, predominantly eagles. Some were taken around the camp, of cabins, of Lou staanding with the other rangers for a group photo, even a couple of Beth, whom he now recognized from Scully finding the photo in her journal. He quickly turned to a low-standing chest of drawers, pulling the drawers open and sifting through the contents. "Look at this, Mulder." Scully spoke up, reaching behind a coat rack to expose a dust-covered surfboard. "I don't think the lake is the best place for catching waves." "He couldn't get rid of it." Mulder spoke thoughtfully, looking back to the drawers, "I guess his love of birds won the fight." Scully smiled approvingly, her profiling partner never missing an opportunity to take one object to learn about the mind of a person he had never even met. "Try the desk." Mulder nodded, moving to the far corner to continue his rifling. This time it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, a group of articles similar to Beth's, although less in quantity, were found hidden at the back of the desk drawer. Content with his first findings, Mulder collected his evidence and headed back into the night, escorting Scully back to her cabin first. "Well, I think we deserve a good night's rest, don't you think?" "After that long drive today," Scully answered with a hidden emphasis, receiving a half-smile from Mulder, "I could use it." "We have a long nature hike tomorrow, so rest up." He added as they approached the familiar cabin door. "I'm ready if you are." Scully challenged, pulling out her keys, eager to get inside out of the cold. "So, Scully, this getting back to nature with the bird lovers isn't so bad, is it?" "Speak for yourself." She teased, opening the door and turning on the dim porch light, a variety of bugs immediately finding the beacon in the night. Mulder gave a crooked grin and nodded. His thoughts darkened as he suddenly remembered what was waiting back at his cabin. "Hey Scully, by any chance did you happen to pack a pair of heavy-duty goggles?" Scully shot him a curious glance. "Planning on some late-night swimming?" "In a manner of speaking." Mulder's grin continued to broaden. He reached for her hand, not able to stop his impulse, squeezing the delicate palm intertwined with his own, feeling her warmth against the chilly air. "Thanks for coming out--you know I couldn't do this without you." "Ah, well, you know me," Scully chided, softening, "I live to prove you wrong." "And it's a good thing you do." Mulder grinned, his eyes twinkling, while his hand lingered with hers for another moment. "Do you think it's time for me to get my own UFO-watching camp?" This brought a genuine smile to Scully's full, soft lips. "Good night, Mulder." Mulder released her hand. "Tomorrow we'll break Dorothy's species record, kay?" "Go team." Scully kidded, shutting the door. ------------------ 10:40 PM - FRIDAY SCULLY'S CABIN ------------------ The Eagle He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls. ---Alfred Tennyson A shower would have been nice, Scully thought, but going out into the cold once again wasn't worth it. She sighed, sliding her reading glasses in a more comfortable position on the bridge of her nose. Snuggled deep beneath the warm comforter on her bed, skin encased in a comfortable pair of peach pajamas, Scully held Beth's journal in her hands. A ray of lamplight fell obliquely over her shoulder, lighting the illuminated pages and the poem Beth had written on the cover page. She had paused to consider how much she was invading this young girl's privacy, but at the same time, she knew any clue that would help find Beth in the vast forest was well worth it. She flipped through the first pages, her thoughts betraying her with an image of Mulder running from his cabin to the showers...a bar of soap sliding across his chest, suds dripping from the wet spikes of his brown hair...she quickly shook her head, not understanding what had gotten into her. Sure, his reaching out and taking her hand had far from gone unnoticed. The press of each fingertip was still alive in her mind, hot against her skin, but she told herself it was a courteous gesture, that anyone would be grateful for not having to stay in a bird camp alone. She physically forced her mind to look back at the pages in front of her. If nothing else, the journal would remove Mulder from her wandering thoughts, put her mind on the case where it belonged. She had reached the first entry Beth had added four years ago. The handwriting was curvy and harmonious--a far cry from the Mulder hieroglyphics she had become used to deciphering. It began simply--a collage of thoughts and anxieties of a girl arriving at a strange place... I finally made it. I really didn't think I'd ever get this far. Two months of practically being physically sick thinking about coming out here alone, but my therapist seems to think this is a healthy step for me. My therapist...it seems so foreign just to write. I don't understand why I feel like this--what do I have to be depressed about anyway? My life is normal enough. It's embarrassing. I'd much rather be in my backyard watching the sparrow family teaching their new babies how to fly, but I'm supposed to mingle with others. To share something I love. Of course, my other secret love is something I can't share with anyone. Any sane person would no doubt find me completely insane. And my second task is to write about it. I found this journal at the camp store just a few hours ago--at least I like the cover. I don't know what's wrong with me. I used to want to be an author, now this is like pulling teeth. So far I feel so out of place. I don't know a single person here but a lot of them seem to really love birds like I do. I guess it's time to get some dinner, although I lost my appetite just thinking about eating with so many strangers. Scully twisted slightly in the bed, the mattress springs creaking under her weight. She couldn't help but to be surprised. The girl in the photo looked nothing like the one she envisioned while reading. She also wondered what Beth was referencing to--maybe her partner's theory wasn't completely off the mark as it sounded. Of course, she couldn't deny the uncanny findings in Beth and Lou's rooms. She quickly flipped to the next page, her eyes widening as the entry suddenly took on an almost storybook form, full of detail, and even dialogue. She noted Beth would have...would...make a wonderful author. The writing was beautiful, descriptive and poetic, and as the dark night swept across Skyhigh Mountain, Scully was on a time machine traveling deep into the past, back to the beginning. The events came back to life every time a pair of eyes touched the journal's words... << Beth had reluctantly closed the journal, the brand new binding giving a squawk from being unaccustomed to use. She eyed the two other beds around hers with disdain, the remnants of two other campers, one an older woman named Dorothy, and a younger one closer to her age who she hadn't met yet. The younger girl was always out playing volleyball, wearing halter tops and bikini shorts, swishing her blonde hair for the benefit of a group of guys crowding around her, laughing loudly enough for the campers on the next mountain over to hear. On the other hand, Dorothy had been a harder woman to avoid. For an elderly lady, Beth decided, Dorothy had more energy than she did at nineteen. Although she had managed to avoid her for the first half of the day, her first meeting had been a couple of hours ago. She had been walking back from the soda machine, seeing the sprightly lady coming towards her, a brand new Panama hat from the gift shop on her gray curls. Beth remembered how she had immediately ducked into the ladies room, a tiny pair of size-five shoes suddenly right on her heels. "Hi, I'm Dorothy." The woman had greeted gaily, not noticing the scared look on Beth's face, the soda Beth had just bought dropping from her hand. "Oh dear," Dorothy had continued with a sudden motherly tone, cola splashing and fizzing from the can in an explosion. "Don't you worry about that, hon." She went on, pulling two quarters from her pocket and dropping them into Beth's still-frozen hand, next pulling paper towels from the dispenser and dropping them across the dark brown liquid. Beth opened her mouth to speak, terror seizing her limbs. She had clutched the cold coins in her hand and had taken off from the bathroom, leaving Dorothy behind. Beth sat on the bed, her heart beating wildly, blood running thickly through her chest, all from simply reliving the moment once again. She angrily made her herself stand, mentally punishing herself for the feelings she couldn't control but wanted desperately to. It was a senior citizen for heavens sake, she repeated to herself over and over, why would that frighten her so much? Why was the blonde girl able to get along with people so easily, and yet, she felt so panicked talking to a stranger that becoming a monk looked better and better every day. The sooner dinner was over with, the better. Her legs were lead weights she had to drag across the grounds to the Lodge. They mechanically clunked up the stairs to the back porch, the sounds of multiple voices from the dining room gripping at the pit of her stomach. She had to stay focused, she mentally prepared, as long as there was one empty table to sit at, she could do it. The dining room looked cavernous to her, even with the long line of open windows on both sides. The carefully hung art, of antique sleds, saws, washboards, even an old horse harness, dangled above her head menacingly, as if they were preparing to dive bomb like a group of fighter planes. She grabbed a tray, the tips of her fingers white under the pressure, her eyes sweeping through the room for a table in a desperate act of survival. No empty table. Her eyes made a sweep for Plan B, checking to see if anyone was finishing up. Sure enough, a man was dawdling over in a corner; she had a chance. She moved down the line, her tray sweeping along cold metal, trying not to notice the two strangers she was wedged between. Steam was rolling off the food, green beans glistening in ham, apples dipped in cinnamon and sugar, bright orange batter surrounding fish filets, and soon, after pointing to the foods she wanted, the workers had loaded her tray with a variety of dishes. She constantly glanced from the corner of her eye, keeping a strict vigil on the table she had picked out. The man was now nonchalantly dapping at his mouth with a napkin, moving to take another sip of coffee, playing in the mashed potatoes with his fork. She could feel the urgency mounting in her chest as she was closing in to the end of the line. She didn't want to be stuck standing with nowhere to go, the thought freezing the very blood in her veins. She slowed her trek down the line, a gap opening between her and the man in front. She pretended to look over the bread section intensely, hearing impatient groans like a far away echo from the people in line behind her. Each second ticked like an hour as the tension behind her grew exponentially. Her mind was suspended in slow motion, a relieved sigh escaping her lips as the man stood at last, his chair sliding away. With a boost of adrenalin, the tray was up in her hands, her feet moving with the force of twenty men, passing the sea of eyes she was sure were all looking at her. The seat of a chair creaked tiredly as her body dived into it, the plates and bowls on the tray jangling together with her rough landing, food sloshing dangerously at the rims. Her arm gave the dirty tray that had been left a slight push away from her, sweat marks appearing where her skin touched the cool wood of the tabletop. She didn't care about the mess; she had found safety. Halfway through the meal, the man's tray was suddenly picked up, a wiry man giving her a tender smile as he moved it over to the trash bin for the kitchen crew. "Sorry about that, ma'am." He spoke politely, taking a seat across from her, a white bird jumping down from his shoulder and onto the table. "You're Beth, right? I'm Gil." Beth's jaws had frozen in mid-bite, her heart racing dramatically in her chest. 'If you don't know what to say, just say something you know' her therapist's words echoed in her mind. "I know." She mumbled, recognizing the camp owner and his bird from orientation. She crammed more food into her mouth as an excuse not to talk further. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I hope everything here at Skyhigh is to your liking so far...well, besides the dirty tray of course. I'll give 'ol Cook back there a little talking to about that." Gil continued, cupping Mac's chest with his hand to make a barrier between the bird and Beth's plate. The white Cockatoo stared at a saucer of fresh fruit, clucking his beak wistfully. "S'okay." Beth answered, watching Mac turn to grab a swinging tendril of Gil's bolo to chew on. When Gil trustingly relaxed his hand, Mac whipped around in an arc, his tiny, gray legs moving in tiny strides, his body bobbing from left to right. His beak snatched out with precision, a slice of apple dangling victoriously from his mouth. He moved one leg up to his mouth to aid him on devouring the apple. "Delicious." He squawked, digging into his snack. "You little rascal." Gil laughed lightly, shaking a finger toward Mac's dancing black eyes. Beth couldn't help but smile at the bird's shenanigans. "Was that a smile I just saw?" Gil teased, Beth's cheeks flushing hot at the question. "What's your favorite bird...that is, if you can narrow it down to one." Beth held in a smile, knowing the man certainly couldn't be accused of beating around the bush. She had guessed her therapist or her parents had called the proprietor before she arrived, possibly telling him to keep an eye on her, to help her feel more at home. She knew her parents were worried sick about her after hearing it in their voices on a pay phone, a moment right before the dreaded soda incident. Thankfully, it was an easy question for Beth, her voice still timid as she spoke. "The bald eagle." Gil rocked back thoughtfully, a smile touching his lips. "That's quite a fine bird, indeed. Aren't you glad 'ol Ben Franklin didn't get his way with making the turkey the national bird? Of course, there's certainly nothing wrong with turkeys either...but, ah, you know, you're in luck. I just hired a new ranger a few weeks ago that might have a thing or two to say that might interest you. If you'll wait right here, I'll go round him up." Beth wanted to take the opportunity to bolt through the back door as Gil stood from his seat, his boots making dull thuds against the wood floor as he walked away. The only problem was her body had entered a below-zero freeze, her limbs suddenly turning into concrete. Dashing out of the restroom from an elderly, sweet woman was one thing, but running from the dining hall would create an attention Beth didn't want. Of course, meeting yet another person sat like a dead weight on her chest. She looked over to Mac for a shred of solace, the bird happily concentrating on his snack, not paying attention to the world around him, the apple being his world for the next ten minutes. "This here's one of my rangers." Gil's voice echoed in her ears sooner than she expected, "Lou." Two bodies were now in front of the table. One dressed in a casual, western attire, the other in a crisp sooty brown uniform, a few medals and pins gleaming around a well-knotted tie. A lifted hat exposed almost-white blonde hair, cut short and curled, contrasting against the sun-bronzed skin of a face. Beth's heart seized in her throat once again. It was hard enough to talk to strangers, let alone handsome ones of the opposite sex. "Hi." Came a cheerful, staccato voice, oddly without the Southern twang Gil's voice carried. "So Gil here tells me you love eagles. You know, for the last five years I was a member of a tagging team. We watched the movements and migratory patterns of hundreds of eagles all over the U.S. It was amazing work." Hook, line, and sinker, Beth mused, unable to stop a light from turning on across her face. "Really?" she nervously garbled, her eyes taking a risky jump to look at his face, making contact with two fire-blue eyes. Her breath stopped short in her chest. A flash of white appeared across Lou's face, taking a seat as Gil triumphantly replaced Mac on his shoulder and moved on, his mission accomplished. "Of course, my favorite place in the whole world, only second to where I grew up in Hawaii," Lou continued, a bright burst of light glowing in the blue depths of his eyes as he carefully placed his felt hat on the table in front of him, "is Haines, Alaska. Ever heard of it?" Beth had. She knew it was the *the* spot to go for anyone who loved eagles. Ever since she was little, it was a place she had desperately wanted to visit--at least once in her lifetime. She nodded to Lou enthusiastically, hearing a throaty chuckle emit from his lips. "The eagle gathering occurs between late October to December at the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve. It's got to be one of the largest gatherings of bald eagles in the entire world. Over 3500 of the birds gather to feed on the salmon in the Chilkat River, and sometimes as many as 20 eagles roost in a single tree." Beth was mesmerized, wanting to hear more. This man had been to the places she had only dreamed about. "Hey, Lou." A woman, dressed in a ranger's uniform approached, her tiny waist and long legs enviously noticed by Beth's suddenly shifty eyes. "Sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if you had a map of the South side of the mountain. I'm going to be taking some hikers down there this afternoon and I can't find mine." "Oh sure, Catie, I think I've got one in my cabin." Lou offered, rising to his feet. Beth reprimanded herself for thinking that Lou had really been interested in talking to her. A young man who looked like that could have his choice of leggy rangers, who probably had more interesting rendezvous lined up than talking to an extremely shy, overweight camper that his boss had set him up with to overcome her anxieties. Plus, he had lived in Hawaii, tiny bikinis and belly- dancers being the norm of everyday life. She had to get out of there. "Beth, we've just only begun to talk." Lou grinned with those infectious white teeth again. "Would you like to walk to the cabins with me while I grab a map really quick? We can talk some more about Chilkat, and I can tell you about what we did on the tracking team." It was no doubt tempting, but the last thing Beth needed was to feel hurt at the end of the day when Lou ran off with Catie to the social mixer or off to gaze at eagles on a cliff deep and secluded in the mountains. "Oh, no, it's..." "It's no trouble at all. I could talk about it all day." Lou insisted, pulling her chair back for her, whipping her finished tray over to the bin in a gentlemanly fashion. He slowly moved his Stetson-styled hat to gently rest on his scalp, waiting patiently as he held the back door open for her. Beth looked around questioningly, Catie saying "Thanks" and "See you up front in a few." The open door made the blood in her veins pound thickly in her ears, as if she was looking at a gateway that would severely alter the accustomed reality that was her life. Lou was holding it open patiently, encouraging her to step through. There was something about him that magnetized her, beyond the realm of good looks and eagles, but it was something she couldn't put her finger on, a static feeling that was still transparent. With tiny steps, Beth brushed past his lean body and into the sunlight, the footfalls of his boots ringing behind her. She had chosen to walk into fear's path instead of running in the opposite direction. It was terrifying. "This is it." Lou spoke minutes later, flicking on the overhead fluorescent light, stepping over boxes that were half-unpacked, of magazine stacks with either men riding towering waves on a surfboard or birds staring bright-eyed into the camera. Some clothes were tossed around, although an identical uniform to the one he was wearing hung with care, starched and pressed, on a closet door rung. Beth meekly stepped inside, her gasp indicating the pleasure her eyes found as she ran her palm across the wall-length poster of an eagle, the white mountainous peaks of Alaska peeking through the extended black wingspan of the bird. "You like that? I have another one that I haven't put up yet, but the team gave me those as a good-bye present when I left to come work here." Lou prattled on, opening a desk drawer and pulling out pamphlets and maps, sorting through them to find the one Catie had requested. The furrow in his brow indicated he wasn't having much luck. "Hey, Beth, would you look in the closet and tell me if there's any maps in there?" Beth moved her hand from the poster, nodding quietly as she weaved between the brown cardboard, feeling a boost of pride for being able to help Lou out. Her hand snaked to the doorknob underneath a starched uniform pant leg, her fingers already in motion. Lou suddenly whipped his head up, a realization setting his blue eyes ablaze, panic evident in his voice. "No, wait! Don't open..." He had yelled, holding a flattened palm out like the stop motion of a policeman, but it had been too late. The door flew open, a box directly hitting Beth square in the chest. The only thing she could do was utter an "oomph" noise, flailing backwards from the force, not realizing until later that Lou had threw down the maps and had lunged for her, arms stretched far in front of him, to end up crashing underneath her, at least breaking her fall. But her mind had been elsewhere from Lou's heroic attempt as black and white articles fluttered and swirled to the ground, landing across her legs and lap, including one across her mouth. She was dazed as she pulled the article from her lips, a slight ring of moisture around the heading: "Reports of Alien Activity in Shenandoah." She had never been more stunned in her entire life. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" Lou was muttering, snatching articles as fast as his hands would allow, slowly setting Beth up to continue grabbing like a madman, beads of sweat instantly forming at his brow. Beth was just sitting there, staring ahead into space, not even noticing that Lou had whipped the article from her hand. Her mind had turned into an unsteady whirlpool of haze, her arm reaching out to touch Lou's, slowing his dashing arm. "I have that same article." It was all she needed to say, explaining it clearly for Lou as cleanly as the cut of a scalpel. The bundle of crumpled papers fell from his arms, his jaw hanging loosely in surprise. Their eyes made contact, Beth's not falling away this time. >> The lamplight was switched off as Scully rooted her body deeper under the covers. Her mind was alive with images of Beth and Lou, who had once encountered such an eventful meeting in the safety of the camp's circle, now lost together, cold and terrified, in the vast black spaces of the night, the unknown. -------------------------- 11:09 PM - FRIDAY MULDER'S CABIN -------------------------- Mulder tiptoed into the dark pit of the cabin, a towel around his neck, a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap clutched in his hands. He was dressed in an old white undershirt, his jeans haphazardly thrown on to protect his legs from the night cold. He rushed over to his bed, throwing the jeans off and hopping underneath the covers, his body shivering for warmth. He looked carefully around the darkened room as if he had just committed a crime and was checking for the police. No movement from the tiny human form to his left, no moving from the giant covered form on his right. He gave a silent sigh of relief, his fingers moving quietly under the bed, the gritty sound of a box shuffling against concrete sounded through the cabin. Mulder stopped again, double-checking for enemy movements before pulling a handful of articles from within the box. He leaned back contently, reaching for the cool metal of a stashed away flashlight under his pillow. He gave the sheet and comforter another pull, his feet suddenly exposed in the icy air, the ends of the sheet and comforter up to his knees. "What the..." he blurted before he could stop himself, a muffled giggle from across the room sounding alarm bells in his ears. A loud whirring noise rang through the cabin, followed by a yelp. X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X --------------------------- 6:40 AM - SATURDAY BREAKFAST AT SKYHIGH LODGE --------------------------- "Talk about waking up with the birds." Scully muttered, sliding a bright red tray along a buffet of breakfast foods. "Mmmm...heart attack on a plate." Mulder mumbled as a helper loaded a double portion of bacon on a plate at his request. He grinned broadly as he waved the plate in front of Scully's nose. "This is the stuff that keep mountain men hearty." "You've spent one night here and now you're a mountain man?" Scully scoffed, continuing to move down the line, her tray still empty. "Henry, do you see the amount of grease they serve these people for breakfast?" "Breakfast of champions." Mulder answered absentmindedly, a heap of sausage being placed next to the bacon. They were inside the lodge with the other campers, indulging in the old country delicacies that made up a filling breakfast before the day's long hike. Large mahogany tables filled the middle of the rectangular room, the campers seated at them, talking to one another, silverware making dull clanks against plates. "I tried reading some more of the articles last night," Mulder continued, following Scully with his heavy tray. "I, ah, didn't get too far, to say the least. You find anything?" Scully couldn't help but give Mulder a suspicious glance. There was definitely something about his cabin he was hiding. She decided to get to the bottom of that later, the case at hand requiring her more immediate attention. "Well, I got through the first year of Beth's journal. Seems that she had a pretty tough start, but you're right about her and Lou--they did have that common bond you mentioned yesterday." "So, just to make sure I heard correctly, you're saying I was right?" Mulder smirked, feeling an arctic glare in response. He was smart to quickly deter the subject to a new line of questioning. "Ah, Kate, we're almost to the end of the line. Aren't you going to eat something?" Scully looked ahead to notice her options had almost run out. She sighed, grabbing a cook's attention as he came out with a fresh pan of grits. "Excuse me." "Yeah?" came the gruff reply, a yellowed apron getting another wipe of greasy hands across it. "You, ah, wouldn't happen to have some egg whites or maybe some...?" The reaction through the dining hall was immediate. Dropped knives and forks against plates echoed through the room, earning her pained looks from across the tops of colorful bird glasses. The dining room hushed, eyes searing holes into Scully's back. "Kate!" Mulder spoke up in a theatrical tone, no doubt enjoying the seconds before stones began to be thrown. Scully managed a thin lipped smile, strained across her gritted teeth. "Bird humor." She claimed, feeling the stares slowly falling away. An older man with scraggly black hair, who was standing in front of Scully in line, turned around to lean in close to her face. "You're a sick woman, ma'am." Was his simple reply, turning back to his tray. "I can't take you anywhere." Mulder beamed with a patronizing twinkle in his eyes. "I've been waiting to say that for four years." Scully's darkened eyes looked over to the sausage on Mulder's plate. Right off the top of her head, she could think of ten ways to mutilate him with it. Scully was relieved to finally sit at one of the huge mahogany tables, an array of fresh fruit and an orange juice now residing on her tray. Mulder was quick to sit next to her, two more campers quickly grabbing seats across from them. "Henry, right?" a large, red-headed man asked, tucking in his chair, his tray no better than Mulder's heap of grease. The resemblance to the night menace Mulder had to endure last night gave away his identity almost immediately. "That's right." Mulder answered, his neck muscles constricting as a familiar red-headed boy took a seat next to his father. He tried to ignore the smirk that was traveling in the form of a laser beam across the table. "You were in awfully late last night, makin' that racket, then and up n' out agin this mornin', so I didn't get a chance to speak wit ya' yet. The way I figgered it, it's always good to know who yer family is sleepin' with." Scully's paused in mid-bite, juice from an apple threatening to dribble down her chin. Her eyes darted from the large man to the carbon copy sitting next to him. So this was what Mulder had been keeping under wraps. She hid her smile behind the half-eaten fruit, but she knew Mulder's x-ray vision was already aware of it. The man leaned in closer, "an' to make sure no stranger's gonna make out wit' our stuff, ya' know." He finished with a giant guffaw, two hands slapping against the table, symmetrically on either side of Mulder's plate. Mulder visibly startled at the slap of two beefy palms against wood, using the tight-lipped smile Scully had patented for the entire lodge just moments earlier. Now it was Scully's turn to sit back and gloat as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin, picking up a cantaloupe like it was popcorn at the movies. "You done said there was a mouse under your bed last night?" Big John asked, his question followed by a roar of laughter. He turned to Scully. "Ain't never heard no man afraid of no mouse like him-- darned near scared the bejesus out of me last night hooping 'n hollering like that." Mulder cringed, feeling the widening stare of Scully's eyes next to him. He still remembered the night before as if it had happened just minutes ago. Big John had woken up, muttering, "What in tarnation's goin' on..." while Mulder had tried vainly to fix his covers, mumbling, "Just a mouse" to save himself from a second dose of drenching water. The severity of Scully's payback had just gone up another notch. "I'm Big John, and this here's my son, Andrew." The man continued, gesturing toward his younger version. Mulder froze while trying to add sweetener to his coffee. Andrew? The boy's name was Andrew?! Big John turned to Scully, "and you're a purty 'un. 'Course, any folks wit red hair are the best lookers, in my 'pinion." Scully's eyes darted to the man's rust-colored hair, giving him a strained smile of courtesy. Her eyes darted back to Mulder who kept dumping more packets of saccharin into his coffee. He took note of Scully's amused, yet horrified, glance, watching her press a finger over the misted surface of her glass. "I'm Henry, and this is Kate." Mulder offered politely, glad that Big John had leaned back into his chair, tucking a red napkin around the frayed collar of his flannel. "So ya'll here together?" Big John continued casually, as if Mulder had met his stamp of approval from those few first minutes. "Then why you stayin' wit us, Henry? Shoot, if I was you, I wouldn't be wastin' no time bunkin' wit us." He shoveled a large spoonful of grits into his mouth, looking up to meet Mulder's eyes while he flashed a big grin, one tooth missing from the bottom. "The farther south you go, the less teeth you grow." Mulder mouthed behind his napkin to his partner. Scully cleared her throat noisily, her grip around the glass of orange juice tightening. She peered over to Andrew, her glance lighting his chubby face like a Christmas tree. It wasn't hard to acknowledge a twinkle of deviousness in his gray eyes, making her thankful for her cabin even more. "We're good friends." Scully answered, saving Mulder the trouble of coming up with one himself. This actually brought a chuckle from the large man, mouth full of food. "Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining!" Big John hooted, gulping down a cup of black, bitter coffee before continuing, a few droplets trickling from his lips and catching in the bristles of his beard. With a confirmation from Scully, Mulder began wolfing down his breakfast at lightning speed. "Jus' don't let Andrew here give you a hard time. Ain't that right, boy?" "Right, pop." Andrew answered, an imaginary halo beaming around his head. He directed a victorious smirk in Mulder's direction. "Ya'll been hearin' them stories yet?" Big John continued casually, his fork never slowing down from the plate to his mouth. "What's that?" Mulder couldn't help but ask, his interest suddenly piqued. Big John's wide nostrils flared for air while the food kept disappearing from his plate. "Well, I hear two folks done gone out in the woods and vanished--right from this camp. Lots of strange things been seen around here, you know. Gotta stay 'round here at night or we could all disappear, one by one, like them others." "Strange things?" Scully interjected in a tone, already having a sinking feeling about what Big John was referring to. "Yes'um. It's them doggone space critters--all that room out there and they been comin' round here anyway. The way I see it, why don't we jus go out dere and steal a couple of 'em for ourselves--even up the score." Mulder could feel the static electricity emanating from his partner, the hairs on his arms eerily standing on end. "Those varmints put three crop circles in one of my pastures." Big John continued, never missing a beat between mouthfuls. "You mean kids trying to pull off a hoax?" Scully continued. Big John's huge jowls stopped chewing, eyes pointedly looking to Scully. "Shoot, don't you worry, missy, don't let my talkin' scere ya'. That's jus what Lars in cabin 12 has been sayin'. Personally, that man is full of hot air--you jus' have yourself a nice vacation- lots o'purty birds out here." Mulder finally decided to take the risk and look at Scully. If Big John's tales weren't bad enough, calling her 'missy' had done the trick. He knew that if he didn't get her out of there in ten seconds, being undercover would no longer be necessary. He crammed down one more bite of pancake, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he made an abrupt getaway from the table. He reached for Scully's plate, avoiding her irritated looks as he shooed her away from the table, hearing "Ya'll have fun on that hike today--looks like a great day fer some bird watchin'. An' see you tonight, Henry. I'll pick up some of them mouse traps at the camp store today, so don't you worry!" Oh yes, Mulder conceded, he would worry. -------------------- 7:05 AM - SATURDAY SKYHIGH NATURE HIKE SKYHIGH MOUNTAIN -------------------- "Interesting roommates, Mulder." Scully smirked, lugging a backpack full of equipment. "Yeah, well, as long as I sleep...soundly...no one gets hurt." Mulder spoke absentmindedly, a worn backpack of his own taut between his shoulders. "At least now we know the campers aren't completely oblivious--they've gotten wind of something not right going on around here." "Well, at least 'Lars in cabin 12.' Scully pointed out, hardly able to contain a note of laughter stuck in her throat. After breakfast they had dispersed to their cabins to grab their gear, now walking back together toward the hub of campers gathered around the trail entrances at the base of the woods. Gil was already there, sharing small talk, his occasional waving arm interrupting Mac as he preened a tail feather, delicately balancing on his owner's shoulder blades. Gil's gray-flecked hair weaved in and out through the crowd, Mulder and Scully realizing he was heading for them. Mulder was convinced Mac stopped his ritualistic morning bath just to give him a taunting glare. As if it wasn't bad enough that an adolescent boy had turned sleep into a thing of the past, Mulder mused, but now a bird had it out for him too. "Hello there! Isn't it a beautiful morning--a perfect day for a hike." Gil's voice rang out cheerfully, his breath clouding from his mouth and nose into the cool morning air. The grass was slick and wet from the early morning dew, turning the soles of Mulder's hiking boots slick against the earth. As he turned to look at the lake, fog rolling from the waters, he could see himself ice-skating across the dew all the way down the hill, his boots pirouetting him through the air, graceful and smooth to the water's edge. He quickly shook his mind from the image, making a mental note to work harder at erasing the Ice Capades from his memory. He looked to the side, the fog hovered across the camp, blanketing itself over and around the trees, its thick, pearly gray vapor hiding the surrounding world just as the black from the night before. Two does with young fawns had emerged from the wood's edge to feed, tiny white-spotted babies nibbling at shoots of grass next to the tan faces of their mothers. Mulder was sure his ears had gone deaf, not being able to pick up any sound except the faint tones of waiting campers by the trees. The forest was still in slumber, lazy from the fog's moist blanket, bringing an utter silence that his ears could not understand but gladly welcomed. "It's lovely here, Mr. Hahn." Scully spoke up, her eyes also registering a mix between amazement and calm. "Good, good." Gil sighed, putting a small, but firm hand on each of their shoulders. "The valleys around us always attract fog like this in the summertime. It obstructs some great views, but don't worry, it usually clears up sometime during the afternoon." "Hike to the birds." Mac piped up in his high-pitched voice, more unintelligible words following it with a round of 'shave and a haircut' at the end. He then proceeded to stretch his long neck out, barely making it to a loose button on Gil's shirt. Gil grinned broadly, a sparkle in his eye instantly returning. "He's very talkative in the morning." Just then the button from his shirt popped to the ground, Mac retracting with a new bloom of yellow plumage crowning his head. "And up to no good." Gil added, giving his finger a playful shake as he picked up the button. Mulder continued to eye the white creature apprehensively. "We have three groups for our morning nature hikes--the Pigmy Owls, the Black Crows, and the Wild Turkeys. Each group is taken in different directions, led by my rangers, which are rotated to a new route each morning. Once folks are familiar with the terrain, we usually let them go on their own. Of course now...well, you see the problem. Anyway, the Wild Turkeys will be heading out to North Ridge this morning. The hike will take most of the morning and early afternoon, but I have a feeling that's where you two wanted to go." "Henry is out to catch himself a bald eagle today." Scully answered in a tone that held just enough mockery for Mulder to notice. "We have some differing theories about the bald eagle." Mulder jumped in quickly, "but North Ridge will be a good place to start." "Okay, then." Gil said with confidence, his relief obvious from knowing someone was working toward bringing back Beth and Lou, "Paul is a great guide, so just ask him any questions about the area you might have." "Paul?" Mulder asked in horror, "His name is Paul?" "Come on, Mulder, we don't want to be late." Scully advised, grabbing his arm and moving toward the wooden sign with a wild turkey painted on it. "Scully, is it just me, or..." "...are all the Wild Turkeys women." Scully finished slowly, inspecting the fluttering, giggling huddle of women around the sign. "I'm seriously wondering who the real turkey is." Mulder mumbled under his breath as Paul easily strided from the cafeteria to the group, a dimpled smile theatrically planted on his bronzed face. Mulder wondered how many times the man had stood in front of the mirror and practiced that blue-ribbon smile, although now as Paul stood next to the sign with his brawny hands on his hips, Mulder wondered how long it took to get that stance down pat. The mammoth of a ranger kindly welcomed the ladies who were coming toward him to introduce themselves, no doubt eating up the attention with a spoon...no, a ladle. Scully looked a little too smug for Mulder's liking. "Okay, ladies," Gil continued cheerfully, walking into the Wild Turkey group, giving his hands a clap to grab their attention, "Now Skyhigh usually likes a good mix of men and women in each group, so you can mingle and get acquainted for tonight's mixer. I'm sure some of the men in the Pigmy Owl group would like to look for eagles today too, so can I have some volunteers to change places?" "What mixer?" Mulder questioned, keeping his eyes on Gil. After a moment of silence, his eyes darted over to his partner, who was a million miles away. "Hey, Kate?" "Mmmm?" "Do you know anything about...that huge snake that you're standing on?" "That's interesting, Henry." Scully replied, her head slightly to one side, absorbed in her thoughts. Mulder breathed an irritated sigh, but was relieved when Gil was able to mingle five other men into the group, although it hadn't been easy. At least he didn't stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of a make-up-clad group of swooning women. His bright green irises swept across the crowds, registering Gil's humored expression and giving the elder man a nod of thanks. Gil was smarter than he let on, Mulder decided, what better way to attract more clients than to add Paul to his staff? "Don't forget your binoculars, Kate." Mulder added in a syrupy voice, pulling out a pair from his bag. "There's a lot out there to keep your eyes on." "You're right about that." Scully replied in a distant voice, hooking the binocular strap around her neck. "Why, I'll be a monkey's uncle!" flowed an ecstatic woman's voice from behind the pair. "We meet again!" Mulder and Scully hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was them being addressed. As their heads turned, Dorothy's petite figure was barreling down upon them, a toothy grin stretched from ear to ear across her face. Her tiny frame seemed to be carrying twice its weight in bird-watching gear, her waist pouch bouncing heavily against her abdomen. Beneath the gear was a pair of knee-length shorts, two pasty white legs, with an occasional purple varicose vein, strided ruthlessly. A barely visible shirt, covered in Cardinals, could be seen underneath the black leather of camera and binocular pouches. And last but not least, her Panama hat was snug against her scalp, her attire reminding Mulder and Scully of a Navy Seal dressed for combat. Add some camouflage to her clothing and she would have been ready for duty. "I missed you at dinner last night, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two were trying to avoid me." Dorothy continued, a teasing twinkle in her green irises, making a clucking sound with her tongue. "Of course, if I were this little lady I'd be keeping me far away too." Scully politely smiled as Dorothy winked at her knowingly, Mulder grinning a little too widely for his partner's liking. "In all serious, of course, sorry about that short introduction yesterday...a wonderful quail family pops up...well, you know how it goes." Dorothy finished, a delighted tingle in her voice. "I'm Henry and this is Kate." Mulder introduced, standing back next to Scully, resisting the urge to put his arm on her shoulders. "How nice." Dorothy spoke warmly, a Southern charm evident in her voice. "This hike is going to the eagle's popular nesting spot, so if we're lucky maybe we'll get a glimpse of a real beauty. And if we're really lucky, maybe we'll catch a little hunting action. They are just absolutely stunning--ever seen one?" "No, not a real one." Mulder replied as Dorothy hardly stopped between sentences. "Well, I must say you two make a handsome couple." She reached up with her bony hand to squeeze Mulder's cheek, her eyes darting over to give Scully another wink. "And there's nothing more romantic than bird watching." "Well, actually, we're not..." "Now, don't worry. I'll tell you everything I know about birds on the way, and I won't leave out a single detail! Wait until you hear some exciting adventures I've had up here. It's going to be great!" She gave Mulder's cheek another hard tug. "Everyone have a wonderful hike!" Gil called enthusiastically as he waved to the groups. "And don't forget to keep an eye out for ticks!" Scully leaned in close to Mulder's ear. "Re-thinking the Ice Capades yet?" Mulder felt the warm tickle of Scully's breath on his ear, turning to smile at her. "Well, I am trying not to use any negative words. If I pass this, we'll be sure to win the Honey-Baked ham at the next seminar." And with Paul leading the way, his calves unmistakably putting on a show as they rippled from the climb, the group began the hike. The well-worn trail was narrow and immediately steep as it led the hikers up the side of a rocky cliff. Greenish columnar joints of rock protruded from the ground on all sides, the trail itself being unyielding and rigid against the hiker's delicate feet. Dense mountain laurel twisted and thrived around the jettisons of rock, old growth-hemlocks forming a thick canopy above their heads. It seemed only a matter of minutes before the camp had melted away, leaving no trace of its existence in the new world of plant, rock and sky. The morning silence in the vast, unexplored forest was a unique softness to their ears, and yet there was a hint of an untamed wildness secretly hiding in the deepest, darkest shadows of the forest. After the first hour, Dorothy had stopped her bird history lesson to take out her binoculars to look at a few warblers nesting in a tall pine tree. Mulder took this opportunity to speak with his partner. "Are you doing okay with that backpack, Scully?" "I'm fine, Mulder." His heart made a familiar seize at the words. "Right...we still have a long way to go though." "I know." Scully groaned, shifting the weight on her back slightly. "You know, I think it would be a good idea to ask Paul some questions about the area." "You would." Mulder mumbled, looking ahead to see Dorothy's tiny frame stopped up ahead, her fingers busily hitting the shutter on her camera as a vulture circled lazily overhead. "Dorothy's been here numerous times," Scully continued thoughtfully, "why don't you ask her some questions. I don't think you'll have any problem getting answers." "Well, why don't you ask her?" Mulder retorted quickly. Blue eyes sparkling, she tilted her head to the side and smiled mischievously. "She likes you better--maybe she thinks you resemble a bird." "Yeah, well, that's where you're wrong, Kate." Mulder claimed with a stubborn thrust of his chin, "Your eating habits are much more bird-like than my looks." Scully smiled victoriously, leaving Mulder behind as she quickened her pace to catch up to the front of the hikers. "And...and which bird do you think I resemble anyway?" Mulder continued, unable to get a response from Scully. After another moment, he cleared his throat, standing taller to add, "Well...I will talk to you later then." Dorothy took her camera away from her tiny eyes, watching Scully pass by her. "Aww, you two are just so cute--so full of honey and vinegar--two peas in a pod." She said delightedly, giving Mulder's cheek another squeeze. "Oh yeah," Mulder sighed, catching a last glimpse of Scully's rich auburn hair and small figure, "We're a real Bonnie and Clyde." Mulder began ascending the trail once again with Dorothy only a few feet ahead. The depths of his green irises searched wistfully in the distance, revealing chambers of secrets held within. His feelings went far beyond the surface of his skin, beyond Paul, past the recesses of his common sense. More than anything, he wanted to stop Scully, to keep her there with him. He enjoyed her company, her companionship, and it was an unyielding bond whose roots had taken hold deep within his being. He had chosen a life of loneliness, not allowing another single person to be close to him or to be a part of his passion, his quest. And yet, Scully had appeared in his life; a woman of science, of determination and integrity, who never asked anything from him...who never had an agenda to change his inner self. But his inner self had been changed, just in a direction that he had never expected. Their trust for each other had been hard-earned, their care for each other slowly won, and Mulder had never felt closer to another human being than he did with her. But they had set the boundaries of professionalism, a distance for the sake of friendship, for the work, and he was convinced Scully was content with the rules. Yet how could he explain that moment--the moment when the sacred boundaries had been breached, and he had followed her into his apartment building's hallway. The thought of her leaving his life forever had propelled him to take action, to take the risk...that risk that they had tiptoed around for so long. It was a 'then or never' moment, and he had reached out for her--his hands on each side of her face... Although it was a vivid impression on his mind, a memory that lived with fury inside him, it was a memory that had become lost between them. "You're awfully quiet back there." Dorothy commented, stopping to turn around. She took a long drink from her canteen, catching Mulder's torn expression before continuing, "But I know that look anywhere--there's no fooling this old timer." Mulder composed himself rapidly, a bemused grin spreading across his features. "Oh really, Dorothy? And what exactly is that?" "You've got quite a battle raging underneath that skin of yours, Henry. It all comes down to your mind and your heart, and even though your heart is unwise in it's thinking, it will make you more miserable if you leave it unappeased." She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, gray curls poking beneath the brim of her hat. "Silence is a black, ugly shadow that lives within us, Henry, and I can see you're plagued with its disease." Mulder opened his mouth to protest. "That's 71 years of experience talking--age is a bibliography that surpasses any textbook. Trust me, regrets will make you far more miserable than life's mistakes." Mulder nodded his brown head. The idea of admitting such a thing out loud, even to an unsuspecting bird-watching woman, was terrifying. Every defense mechanism he possessed had risen against it--the fear of losing the special union with his partner was an utterly devastating thought. "But don't worry," Dorothy added, with a casual wave of her hand, "Those things that are meant to be will happen whether you want them to or not." "You mean fate." Mulder supplied. "And what if fate doesn't exist?" A smile played at her thin lips. "Amor fati my dear Henry. Don't give up on it--it will show itself in small doses." Immediately the images from his hallway returned to him. Dorothy continued, "Do you really think you and I meeting this week was an accident?" Mulder bit his lower lip while observing the tiny woman curiously. Meeting his eyes, Dorothy added, "Oh now, don't give me that doe- eyed look of yours. You're here to watch birds about as much as I'm here to watch elephants." Mulder was slightly startled, taking a moment to recompose his smile, but he did so with perfect aplomb. "Why else would I be here?" Dorothy gave him a long stare, leaning in to whisper, "For the same reason Beth and Lou were here year after year...why so many have come here...including me. Do you think I'm on this hike for the muscle show going on at the front of the line?" "You?" Mulder asked incredulously. "Don't get me wrong, I love birds very much, but there is one species in our skies that I'm still searching for. It is The species-the Holy Grail, so-to-speak. I'm an old woman, Henry, but ever since I was a child I knew they were out there. I just know it." Mulder was taken aback, shocked at his discovery. "And you're telling me lots of campers are here for the same reason?" "Oh my, yes!" Dorothy laughed. "There is a group of us that come every year. Poor Gil has no clue that we're here for other reasons than sharing our love for birds, and we will never have the heart to tell him. He started this camp twenty years ago, using every last penny he had because he had a passion for bird watching. It's his life, Henry, can you even imagine what that must be like?" "Oh, maybe just a little." Mulder mused toward himself. "But now it's never been more dangerous." Dorothy whispered, closing in the distance between herself and Mulder's sturdy frame. Mulder stooped down to stay within earshot. "We think Beth and Lou were close to something--too close. We had told them not to hike alone at night, but they must have discovered something extraordinary to have left that night. I have been here countless times, but I have never heard such a noise as I did that night. There's something else out here now, and it's terrifying." Mulder looked at the elderly woman seriously. "What do you think it is?" "I don't know--but maybe this is something we shouldn't know. And even though this is a little camp, there have been newcomers, like you, who are not here for the birds and a little solitude either. I don't know who sent you or whom you report to, but that doesn't matter so much as long as you're on the right side of the game. Something out here is drawing in national security, and at first, we thought you and your lady-friend were sent out to hide whatever is out there, but there has been a man, tall with an identifying scar, keeping a close watch on you two." "What?" Mulder hissed in an alarmed voice. "He was tailing us for the first hour of the hike this morning, which is why I kept talking about birds. When Kate left just a little while ago, he disappeared as well." "Scully!" Mulder's voice escaped in a pained whisper to himself, a paralyzing fear rushing through every limb of his body. X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X --------------------------------- 8:34 AM - SATURDAY 52 YARDS FURTHER ALONG THE TRAIL WILD TURKEY HIKE --------------------------------- Scully wiped her moist brow with the back of her hand as she took quick, careful steps along the steep trail. The roots of her auburn hair had darkened with sweat, her dry mouth begging for water. To her disdain, she knew her heavy backpack only contained equipment for use on their case, to collect any evidence she or Mulder might run across. She considered herself athletic, running miles every day, lifting weights at the local D.C. gym, not to mention chasing a few monsters on the side, but the thin mountain air, the grueling hike, and an extra twenty pounds on her back had taken its toll on her small frame. After twenty minutes of swift climbing along the mountainous incline, she spotted Paul...and those muscular legs of his...ambling at a leisurely pace, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. She worked on regaining her breath as she smoothed her sweaty hair with a free hand. As she closed in the distance between herself and the rugged Wild Turkey guide, she observed two other hikers next to him, chatting as if they had known him for years. As Scully approached, one of the women turned toward her, giving her a once- over with a dark brown eye. Dismayed, the woman turned back, not saying a word. Scully recognized the look. She had seen it enough times from other female agents at the bureau, not to mention from those she had encountered while working on cases with Mulder. She had been labeled as a woman with "feminine wiles" from a friend whom Mulder had met online, and she held back a smug grin at the hiker's obvious discomfort. She was a very beautiful woman, she was aware, although she usually set those thoughts aside, making work and her equality with the opposite sex the most important priority in her life. It had been a long time since she had even attempted to date, but as she had proclaimed before, loneliness was a choice. Compliments usually went in one ear and out the other, but Mulder's always stayed with her, close to her heart. Scully charged ahead to join the group, ignoring the burning muscles in her shoulders and calves as she settled into pace. Paul was quick to notice the thin, fiery redhead, greeting her with a dimpled smile. "Hi, I'm Kate." Scully panted, glad for the slower pace, but easily brightening with a charming smile. "Since you're our guide, I was hoping you'd tell me a little about the area." "Oh sure...ah...what would ya' like to know?" Paul asked, his voice a deep, rich bass laced with a thick southern twang. As if on cue, his white teeth flashed like he was about to have his picture taken, the aesthetics of his face melting Scully on the spot. By then, the two women looked disgusted, trying to hide their disappointment as they casually dropped behind, pretending to point at a group of birds in a nearby tree. Scully had him all to herself. "Well, tell me about North Ridge. Lots of birds up there?" "Yeah...there sure are." Paul grinned. Scully nodded her head, waiting for him to continue. She looked back into his tan face to notice he was waiting for her to ask another question. "Well, then, ah, what kind of birds do you see up there?" "Oh, all kinds." Paul answered quickly, his dimple winking playfully as he smiled once more. "Riiiight." Scully said slowly, her mind searching for ideas for the one-sided conversation she was having, "So have you been working at the camp long?" "Actually I was born and raised right in this area, right down in Stanley." Paul replied. "Never been to the city. I started helpin' Gil with the camp when he first built it--I had just turned sixteen and wuz looking for work when I saw the ad he had put in the paper. I wuz' always good at construction and outdoor work, so I fit right in. Can't beat gettin' a good job so close to home. So after that I got some schoolin' and decided to become a ranger. And now here I am--that wuz' a long time ago." "I'm sure it was," Scully spoke absentmindedly. "Well, if you've been here all of your life, have you ever seen anything out of the ordinary?" "Yeah, I sure have." Paul answered quickly, "One time, I swear I saw one of them extinct Dodo birds. No one will believe me though." "Hmm...I wonder why." Scully said sweetly, filtering out her sarcasm that was fighting to be unleashed. "Wait a minute," Paul suddenly interrupted, standing still to listen. "Did you just hear somethin' from the woods?" Scully turned to look into the thick foliage on her left, listening intently. They both stood quietly for another moment, waiting for any hint of a sound. The forest was oddly mute--it had been that way all morning. Stillness encircled them, the hush being an actual noise in itself, an unknown predator lurking unseen, its intentions unvoiced. Scully made a quick glance in Paul's direction, seeing if he had discovered anything further. He was still standing blankly, his large fingers rubbing his chin. She relied on her own senses to alert her of danger; however, she felt a tug at her insides yearning to have Mulder at her side. She knew that her partner's presence would have made her feel safer than one-hundred Pauls by her side. Yet, aside of her fear, the memory of Mulder talking her into coming on another one of his nice trips to the forest kept her backbone coiled like a spring. And then there was an utterance from within the deep growth of trees. A branch snapped, its sickening crack slicing the murky air, sweeping across the forest to Scully's attuned ears. She whipped her auburn head toward the noise, her heart pounding furiously through her veins. Her feet stayed planted against the rocky, narrow path, while her whole body was tense, alert, on the defensive. Another loud snap reverberated across the mountain; clearly either someone or something was making the clamor. More sounds followed it: branches breaking, leaves crushing, and the sounds were growing louder by the second. Whatever was moving their way was very large and was bearing down on them fast! "Paul?" Scully asked in an alarmed tone, feeling such an intense fear that she made an almost physical effort to keep her mouth shut against a scream wanting to escape. Her retinas strained into the foliage, her eyelids frozen in place, every second important in finding even a glimpse of what was approaching. Her breathing increased, sweat breaking out over her body as she habitually reached her hand back to her waist, grabbing for the butt of a weapon that wasn't there. "Damn." She muttered bitterly. "Maybe it's a black bear," Paul whispered in a frantic tone, throwing down his backpack and ripping into it with trembling fingers. Scully's eyes swept from left to right, her ears confused at the thrashing now approaching from all angles. She was lost in the sea of sound, of branch and crackling leaves being crushed beneath a heavier weight, of an object that was far larger than any bear, or any animal her common sense could come up with. Whatever it was, it was enormous and closing in on them at lightning speed, two tiny souls straight in its furious path. Scully's words were now frozen on her lips, a hazy feeling washing through her limbs, her breath pounding in her ears. Paul was no longer with her conscious thoughts as fear moved her onto a plane that was between her and the predator, the unknown crashing toward her blazing blue eyes of fire. Her unprotected body stood tall and motionless against her enemy; there was nowhere else to go. The shot of a rifle rang through the air as Scully whipped around to see a gun in Paul's hands, a waft of smoke billowing into the air from the barrel. To her relief, the movement in the forest ceased, but within seconds a loud sweeping wind careened through the trees, rumbling like a dozen waterfalls combined. The treetops bended and groaned under the force, leaves of all shapes and sizes ripping from tree branches and floating with the windy current. The wind intensity was tripling with every second, Scully feeling as if she was standing at the base of a tornado. Her hair was whipped wildly, even the skin on her cheeks were stretched back toward her earlobes, barely able to keep her eyes open. Her body was far beyond frozen, the only thing left that worked was the deep recesses of her thoughts, it took her a moment to realize she was flailing through the air, Paul's arms around her in a protecting effort as they crashed onto the side of the path in a heap. Scully wildly struggled under Paul's weight, his body at least three times heavier in bulk than her own, attempting to get a glimpse at what was causing the events to happen. She was crushed beneath him on her stomach, suddenly noticing a dark shadow sweeping across the earth, cutting the sunlight between them. The wind was ferocious with its blast, batting Scully's hair across her face, but the whole process, although it felt much longer, was only a second or less, sunlight immediately returning, the gusts of wind slowing like the end of a wind-up toy--coming to a rapid stop. Once the wind had died, then there was only silence. Scully was dazed as she stopped fighting against Paul's heavy frame against her, his dead weight and a cut bleeding from his head indicating she wasn't moving anytime soon. Her mind was reeling for answers, for an explanation of what she had just witnessed, but nothing was clear. It had been so fast and terrifying that the possibility she had been dreaming crossed her mind. But with Paul's muscled arm snaking along her side, her chest compressed with weight, she knew it was very much a reality. She tried to control her breathing, rejoicing at the feel of the damp, wet earth clenched in her hands. She was still there, shaken, but alive. "Sc--Kate?!" Her name rang out in the distance like a distorted echo in her mind. The familiar voice made her heart lurch oddly in her chest, a set of tears jolt into the bottoms of her eyelids. Again, she heard the call, although this time corrected as the comforting sight of her partner appeared down the path, running at breakneck speed. "Kate?! Where are you?!" Mulder voice cracked hoarsely in between gasps his lungs yearned for from his hard run. The tone was mixed with concern and fear, his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs and throat. The sheer terror he was experiencing for Scully felt like a fist squeezing his heart, an unbearable pain of the unknown. "Over here!" Scully called with the bravest voice she could muster, her chest and lungs still flattened against the earth, making it hard to project her voice very loudly. She glanced into Paul's dazed, but now blinking eyes, then wearily looked back to the path, welcoming Mulder's arrival. "Kate!" Mulder whispered with relief as if he had been given a second chance at life. He ran toward his partner's voice with strength born from determination and panic, finding her tiny body underneath Paul, wedged against the rocky earth next to the path. Every fiber in his body silently screamed concern as his muscular frame fell to his knees next to Scully, pushing Paul to the side and grabbing Scully's shoulders to help her to a sitting position. He looked into her wild blue eyes, finding an unguarded moment of emotion blazing from them. She had clearly been frightened, but her eyes gleamed with relief and tenderness as she found contact with Mulder's soft hands and words. Scully slowly lifted her eyes to lock with his. "Mulder, I..." she choked with a whisper, so softly Mulder had to lean in to hear. A flood of emotions was rushing through her, her remembrance of wanting Mulder to be there, her paralyzing fear of being unarmed and feeling helpless. Yet it was Mulder she had yearned for, her one primitive wish that had been born from locked passages inside her, and now he was there--right in front of her. It was something she hadn't been sure she would ever see again. "What is it?" Mulder murmured gently, moving his shaky hands from her shoulders to frame her warm, sweaty face, tracing along the smudges of earth painted across her cheeks. His fingers swept to the sides, tangling in her auburn hair, gently removing leaves and twigs that were weaved throughout the reddish strands. He kept her gaze steady with his own. Scully couldn't speak, her emotional battle filling her with confusion and giving birth to a new fear. She didn't want to look at Mulder any longer, not wanting to reveal that detested darkness within her because of its weakness, the vulnerability. She could feel her eyes burning like hot coals, her hate strong against the feelings that risked the most important thing to her--her partnership with Mulder. "Hey," Mulder whispered delicately, noticing the unshed tears glistening in Scully's angry eyes, "It's okay." He moved his strong arms around her, pulling her body close to his in a tender hug. Scully's feelings melted into Mulder's warm grasp. His strong arms encircled her with an iron grip, pressing her against his own beating heart. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could muster, feeling her frustration slip away. Her chin rested on his broad shoulder, her palms soaking in the odd, close feel of her partner as she held him to her. She was rocked by the sensation of being pressed so tightly against Mulder's body, as if they had spontaneously melted into one. Mulder could feel Scully's warm breath, her face inches away from his cheek. He closed his eyes in remembered pain as the moment in the hallway attacked him with a vengeance. The feel of her so close to him triggered the thoughts he had fought so hard to hold on to, the images he had replayed numerous times. He couldn't resist from torturing himself with them, so many questions unanswered, so many secrets withheld. In the hallway, he had pushed through the darkness within himself, finding the loss of his partner an unbearable reality. And once again, there in the wilderness, the strange happenings had re-birthed the feelings he had experienced in the hallway. The loss of Scully had been real once again, and he knew he didn't want to live without her--couldn't fathom it. "Thanks, Mulder." Scully breathed into his neck, all at once her senses scattering as she forced herself to break the mystifying hold. It was a moment that was burned into her memory. Mulder's hold on his partner relaxed somewhat, still refusing to let her go. He looked into her eyes, giving her a warm smile while searching her features. "No need to thank me. I just hope I don't have to hug 'ol Paul over there next." This brought a chuckle from Scully, moving her hand to Mulder's smooth cheek for a quick caress along the masculine line of his jaw. She moved to stand to her feet, though she discovered to her own surprise that she would have liked to stay within the secure circle of his arms for a while longer. "Oh, man," Paul muttered from behind them, rubbing his head. "I must have hit a rock or something." Mulder opened his mouth to make a comment. "Don't even say it." Scully whipped in quickly, still bemused by Mulder's grin and the accompanying glint in his eye as she walked over to the path. She stooped down to grab the backpack she had dropped, and in grabbing Mulder's bag along with it, her eye caught sight of an object in Mulder's bag. "Hey, you've got water in here." "Of course." Mulder replied. "All Indian guides are trained in the art of preparation." Scully gave him a bemused look, taking a long drink from Mulder's canteen. Once she had finished, she quickly asked, "So, ah, did you find out anything?" Mulder shook his brown head, smiling at Scully's sudden professionalism. "Yeah, actually I did--you'll never believe it. What about you?" Scully had pulled out a first aid kit, heading toward Paul with it in her hand. She paused next to Mulder, looking toward the large man still on the ground. "Aside from being ambushed by something, not much on my end. Just a Dodo bird." X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ---------------------- 11:21 AM - SATURDAY SKYHIGH BIRD CAMP HEADQUARTERS ---------------------- The strange happenings had been heard along a large radius of the camp, and the two other groups had hurried back worriedly to find out what had happened. Many campers were visibly frightened and a low, steady buzz of whispering had swept across the camp faster than wildfire. For a private conference, Scully, Mulder, and Paul stood amongst a maze of free-flight rooms in Gil's most treasured section of the camp, his aviary. This had been the structure surrounded in trees that Mulder had not been able to identify when he had first arrived to the camp. The architecture was absolutely stunning with overhead silver mesh wiring extended three stories high while the rectangular width of the entire aviary stretched almost over half an acre. Sections divided different species of birds from each other, tailored with particular plants, trees, the unique lifestyle they had been used to in the wild. The main free-flight room, the largest, was up at the front, surrounded by leafy vegetation and an artificial waterfall that crashed into a pool of water from two stories above. Tiny flecks of gold and silver darted through the waters, a waiting meal for one of the birds soaring above. It was obvious this gift of Utopia Gil had created for the birds still taught them the art of surviving in the wild. Although many of them now accepted humans, they were safe in Shenandoah. Gil was sitting in a battered recliner, obviously a place he had spent quite a number of hours in. A creamy, white dove was casually pecking at birdseed from his extended palm, other different species had taken flight when the three had first approached. "I'm so glad no one was hurt...I just can't imagine what happened out there. I've lived here for most of my life and nothing...nothing like this..." Gil drifted, his face contorting into a deeply pained expression. The aviary was alive with a symphony of birdsong, multitudes of different pitches and notes meshed together. Sounds of feather danced with the wind, feet landing against wood, all of them conversations that Gil's ears understood as well as if they were speaking English to him. "But most importantly," Gil continued, his worry turning his face the same color as the dove in his hand, "I have to know what's going on. I have to protect my campers if there is a danger to them." "I think it was a wild animal--possibly a male bear." Paul supplied, a small bandage now carefully taped to his forehead. "When I fired a shot, it was frightened, just like an animal." Gil looked over to Scully with his steel-gray eyes. "Is this what you believe as well?" "Well, Paul could be right." Scully replied swiftly, feeling a chilled stare coming from Mulder. "I really didn't get a good look since I was pinned in the ditch, the wind so heavy it was impossible to see." "Alright," Gil sighed, moving his arm for the dove to take flight, "Paul, please alert the campers that there will be no more hikes until this...this...animal is caught. I want everyone to stay close to the camp for a few days--there are plenty of fun activities to do here without hiking into the mountains. We have our special 'Breakfast with the Birds' in the morning, plus, the social mixer is tonight, so maybe that will help relax our worried campers." "And Bird Bingo too." Paul added, making a poor attempt to be helpful. "The social mixer?" Mulder asked curiously. "Oh, yes," Gil suddenly lit up, "It's our traditional dance here at Skyhigh. Our campers dress up a bit, kick back their heels, and do the funky chicken." Scully exchanged a warning glance with Mulder. "Kidding about the funky chicken...well, not entirely. I hope you two will be there." Gil teased, the bright light in his face turning back off as the morning's incident shadowed his mind. "Yes, I hope so too." Paul grinned at Scully, his washboard chest puffing out so the lines of his 8-pack were visible. He turned to Gil, giving a small wince as he touched the bandage on his forehead. "I'll go tell the guests of the new plans." "Thanks, Paul. I'll be out there soon." Gil called, watching the large man put on his million-dollar walk as he exited the aviary. Once Paul was out of earshot, Gil turned back to the two agents, his expression darkening further. "I see you two have some differing theories between you, and I understand that it's top secret. My main concern is for my guests, and if I need to send them home, you just give me the word. It's upsetting enough that two people I care for are already missing." "We understand your concern, Mr. Hahn." Mulder responded. "Staying around the camp and forgoing the hikes is the right thing to do, and if it becomes dangerous, believe me, my partner or I will be sure to let you know. But as of right now, we don't know what's out there in the woods or where Beth and Lou might be, so evacuation would only lead straight to the media, and we want to avoid that at all costs." "I'm sure you've dealt with tons of cases like this, so you know a lot more about it than I do. I still can't help being...well, scared to death." Gil honestly answered, turning at the sound of flapping wings as the dove returned. Scully also jumped at the sound, a confused expression crossing her smooth-skinned face as her brows furrowed together. "Go on, now, Halo." Gil spoke in a soft voice, "That's all the snacking for you." He gingerly moved his arm again, the stubborn dove not budging. This brought a small chuckle from the wiry man, giving the dove his special, soft touch, telling Halo numerous secrets that Mulder and Scully couldn't understand. The words were between bird and man. "Ah, anyway, Mr. Hahn," Mulder continued, regaining the camp owner's attention, "I was wondering if we could have a copy of the guest list for this week. There may be someone here that shouldn't be." "What?" Gil asked, alarmed, while pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his thin nose. "Well, we're not sure, exactly." Mulder reassured, "But can you tell us anything about a man in his late forties, an identifying scar on his forehead?" Gil leaned back thoughtfully while the dove moved closer to his face, chewing at his glasses frames with dainty, tiny bites. He didn't even notice the white bird's antics as he continued, "Well, I think I've seen someone like that around here. Most of the time, the campers make their reservations with a credit card then end up arriving on the bus with the new week's group. Many of them introduce themselves right away, but there's always a few that are quiet and off to themselves. And of course, since it's their vacation, I completely respect their privacy and need for a little solitude. They just come for the birds and a little peacefulness, and that's what the camp is here for just as much as meeting new people. I haven't really spoken to anyone that fits that description, but with new groups, it takes me a few days to learn who everyone is anyway. You could always ask Dorothy, though, she's pretty good at introducing herself to every man, woman, and child on the entire campsite. So that's about all I can tell you, but you can certainly take a look through my guest ledger if that might be any help. If there is any other way I can assist you in putting this mystery to rest, please let me know. The sooner Beth and Lou are back, the better." "We agree, Mr. Hahn." Scully sighed as a low-flying bird swooped overhead. She followed the red cardinal with her eyes as it descended on Gil's shoulder, opposite of the dove. "Hey there, Red." Gil greeted, pulling out more birdseed from his breast pocket on his shirt. "This is quite a place you have here, Mr. Hahn." Mulder grinned. "It's really grown over the years." Gil couldn't help but talk about his aviary with pride, Mulder's comment fuel to a blazing fire. "Most of these birds were rescued from the forest, being either sick or injured. It ended up that visitors all over the park would bring in injured birds they found on hikes or while camping, so I had to start the Adopt-A-Bird program to keep from going into the poor house. It's worked out really great, but I'm sure you don't want to keep hearing about this." The proprietor laughed, standing from his chair, "Let me grab those ledgers for you." They waited a moment while Gil left the aviary from a door that led into his office. He was back in a few minutes with a box in his arms. "Here are the ledgers dating back a few years. I hope this will help." Mulder stood and took the box. "This is great, Mr. Hahn. We'll get these back to you as soon as possible. Thanks again for your help." "Oh no, thank you. Thank you both." Gil replied with honesty, watching the two agents let themselves out, releasing a shaky sigh as the door clicked shut. The sun bathed rays of warmth against Mulder and Scully's skin, their retinas adjusting to the change in light, sending a quick jolt of pain across the eye before lids whipped together protectively. The open, green landscape between the Lodge and the cabins were surprisingly empty, aside for a group of young children dashing happily in a game of chase, their tiny bodies glistening in the afternoon rays of yellow-orange light. A round cluster of people were standing at the back of the Lodge, Paul's unmistakable voice explaining the new camp activity changes while ears attentively listened. Scully could hear him finish his speech with the announcement that tacos were being served for lunch, the group stampeding for the stairs. "Well, as long as the tacos don't run out, it looks like no one will get upset." Mulder mused, watching a shoving match that resulted in Paul getting in the middle, his teeth blindingly white in the sun as he turned on the charm. Mulder opened his mouth once again, Scully cutting him off in mid-breath. "One imitation of a talking Chihuahua and you'll be sorry." Mulder quickly shut his mouth, at least satisfied his pun had slipped by her once. He decided to re-route his approach to hit home. "So you're subscribing to Paul's theory?" He queried, a tone of distaste added at his mention of Paul's name. Scully shook her head, the sun sending many red and gold highlights bursting with color throughout her auburn hair. "I'm not subscribing to anyone's theory. I was simply telling Gil that a wild animal could be a possibility." "Oh, come on, Scully. You told me what happened out there." Mulder scoffed, "And you don't seem very supportive of this whole bear idea either. You said it was large enough to cast a shadow over you. Now unless this 'bear' took a running leap across you and then disappeared into the mist right afterwards, this is a clear case of alien activity...it had to be a UFO." "I bet." Scully mumbled inaudibly. Mulder turned toward Scully. "What was that?" "First stop." She spoke louder, the thrust of her chin indicating they had reached Mulder's cabin first. She tried to peer inside, but every window was covered by curtains, the door open to a pitch black pit inside. Scully fished around in her shorts pockets for the exact change of a diet soda as Mulder moved toward the cabin. The kid must be a vampire, Mulder thought grimly, setting down the box of ledgers to drop his backpack off inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the black surroundings, his sight taking its time to focus in on the small red-headed form sitting on the edge of his bed, feet dangling a good foot above the floor. He was intently staring down at his hands, Mulder concluding Andrew was once again enraptured by his video game. The sooner Mulder was back out of the cabin, the better. The backpack made a clunk as it was gladly tossed to the floor, startling Andrew from his deep concentration. Mulder had fine-tuned his radar to have at least one eye on Andrew at all times, and curiously noticed Andrew clasp his palms together, the sudden halo beaming on his head a dead giveaway. "Why's it so dark in here?" Mulder faked a friendly tone. "That ain't none of your bus'ness." Andrew replied, a knowing smirk on his chubby face. "What do you have there?" Mulder continued, not phased by the boy's first remark. With Andrew, Mulder decided, he was sure it would take work to get anything out of him. "What's it worth to ya', mister?" "What do you want?" Andrew turned on a smile that filled Mulder with dread. "I dunno. What'cha got?" Mulder made a mental run through his belongings, trying to pick something the boy might be interested in. "Well, lets see." A thump off the bed indicated Andrew was heading his way, two curious gray eyes peering cautiously across Mulder's shoulder as he opened his backpack. Mulder could feel the boy's hot breath against his neck, hoping that the dreaded gun wasn't nearby. "How about a radio? It's small enough to fit in your pocket." Andrew snorted, his nostrils flaring from the rush of air. "They ain't got good stations up here. What else ya' got?" Mulder's jaw tightened, keeping his exterior free from the irritation that was sweeping like fire under his skin. He noticed Andrew had finally decided to move next to him, crouching down on a chubby knee, his nostrils concluding that the boy could have used a bath. "Um, alright, how about a keychain?" "Oooh...what's this?!" Andrew cut in, ignoring Mulder's last remark while thrusting his hands into Mulder's bag without asking. He pulled out an item that almost looked like goggles, his freckled face lighting up excitedly as he put them over his eyes, adjusting the strap around his head. "No, wait, that's not..." Mulder began, making a failed attempt to snatch them from the boy. It was too late. Andrew had already switched the button on the side. "Aw, cool! Night vision!" "That's not for negotiation." Mulder added discouragingly as Andrew bounced to his bare feet, the boy hardly listening to him. "This would work great at night for..." Andrew continued, his head turning around the room, his tiny lips excitedly grinning. He turned to Mulder. "It's this, or no deal, mister." Oh damn, Mulder thought, Skinner would kick his butt but good. "You have to show me what it is you have and we'll talk." Mulder replied cautiously. "I'm no fool, mister. You want what I got or not?" Andrew bargained, still spinning around the room and looking at the cabin through the goggles. Mulder had that feeling in the pit of his stomach that was never wrong. He had to know. "Alright, deal. Lets see it." Andrew practically skipped to his bed, pulling out a tiny object from underneath his pillow. He trotted over and dropped it into Mulder's hand. It only took Mulder a second to realize what it was, breath catching in his throat. It was a bug. And it wasn't the creepy-crawly kind, but an actual surveillance device. "Where did you get this?" "I done gone to the bathroom to do my bus'ness and when I came out sure enough there went this bald guy into our cabin." Andrew explained, zeroing in on the closet next to Mulder's bed. "So, 'course I sneaked in for a better look. No one makes out with my pa's and my stuff. But instead of stealin' he done messed around the headboard on your bed. I jumped in the bushes when he come back out--never saw me. So I went in, and that's what I done found." Mulder was visibly stunned, holding the device tight in his hand. "Why's you and that man have all of these gadgets anyway?" Andrew questioned, but Mulder was already out the door. Scully sipped at her diet soda, checking her watch for a third time when Mulder suddenly dashed out of the cabin, a look on his face that she had seen a thousand times. "What's going on, Henry?" She asked with concern as he whipped the box of ledgers into his arms, whisking her on down the trail with him. "What are you doing?!" Scully vehemently asked as Mulder burst into her cabin, sweeping under and around furniture, digging through the closet between a row of her meticulously hung clothes. He sprang to the lampshade on the nighttable, roughly scouring his hands underneath, skipping to the curtains, shaking and feeling the cloth, hands searching for any abnormality. When Mulder had turned one of the recliners upside down in the middle of the floor, Scully had lost her patience, an irritated "Mulder!" finally stopped his ministrations. He rolled to the side of the chair on the floor, exhausted by his furious search, but relieved by the results. "What's gotten into you?!" Scully spouted, rearranging her disturbed clothes in the closet, giving Mulder an annoyed glare. Mulder motioned for her to come toward him, focusing her attention on his extended palm. "This was in my cabin...on my bed." Scully had quieted, a serious expression darkening her face as she stared into her partner's palm. Mulder nodded grimly, giving it a hard squeeze with his fist to make sure it was disabled. "Classic work--looks like the guy took the easy route being that my cabin is always open. At least he didn't get in here with all of the equipment we have. Now why would my cabin be bugged over a wild bear?" He raised his eyebrows at her quizzically. Scully gave him a knowing stare. "I never said it was a bear...exactly." "But there was a possibility?" Mulder continued, repeating what she had stated earlier. "It's important to leave the options open...or as you say, 'thorough.'" Scully fought back, grabbing the case folder and taking a seat in an overstuffed red chair next to the window. She pulled out her pen, clenching it between her teeth as she settled her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Someone knows what we're doing here, Scully. They're listening to us to see how close we're getting to the truth." Scully gave him a cold stare. "Well, there's always Dorothy." "She doesn't know anything about us, except that we're here searching the skies for more than just birds. And plus, Andrew already identified who it was--it was the same man who was tailing us this morning. Who knows what he would have done to you, Scully, if that UFO-type of thing hadn't diverted him." Mulder explained. Scully immediately dismissed her partner's last statement, looking back to her folder. Mulder could feel the cold tension mounting between them, their differing theories once again creating a friction of pride between them. Mulder sighed, nonchalantly opening a window before settling himself on the bed, spreading the ledgers in an arc around him. He stared at the words and numbers unblinkingly, aware of Scully's presence across the room. Although it was normal for them to have different opinions about a case, he didn't enjoy the battle that went on between them because of it. He clearly understood why she never told him what he wanted to hear, her equality to him was too powerful, their respect too important. And as he had told her in his apartment's hallway, the person she was had kept him honest. Their belief foundations were like night and day: hers being of a scientist requiring proof to gain her beliefs, while he believed without any proof. With those personalities, they worked together with a passion so fierce and strong it sparked a battle of wills often, and yet, it truly kept him a whole person. Mulder stole a glance from the corner of his eye, finding Scully's frame comfortably but elegantly sprawled in the red chair. She was furiously scribbling more notes into the folder and her glasses had dipped until they were in danger of falling off the end of her tiny nose. He felt his heart pound harder as he yearned to reach over and rescue her glasses, but more importantly to rescue himself from the silent screams inside him. "So what *is* your theory...a-about this case." Mulder stammered, offering a peace treaty with her, ceasing his wandering thoughts from tearing through his insides. Scully looked up, surprise widening her clear blue eyes, and then suspicion narrowing them. She slowly removed her glasses from their perch on the tip of her nose, folding them carefully and slipping them into a case before she spoke. "Something isn't making sense to me, actually." Mulder hid a smile, his muscles relaxing as his offer of peace had been accepted. He sat taller on the bed, his interest obvious to what his partner was saying. Scully moved the pencil behind her ear, closing the folder on her lap. She took a deep breath as she continued. "Remember how Gil told us yesterday that the sound he heard had bird qualities, or possibly some kind of animalistic qualities to it?" Mulder nodded, pulling a sunflower seed from his pocket. "Well, then today, with that...that thing in the woods, it stopped moving when it heard the rifle shot--just like an animal of some sort would. But here's the craziest part..." "Ooh, trying to top one of my theories?" Mulder mused as a sunflower seed shell was thrown skillfully into the wastebasket next to Scully. "It was terribly quiet in the woods today, and that happens when some kind of predatory animal is present. And today in the aviary, when the dove landed on Gil's shoulder, it was just a few inches away from me. The sound of its wings seemed so familiar somehow...almost like the object in the woods. When Paul fired the shot, the sounds afterward were very similar, although what I heard was louder and more powerful than the dove. There was a lot of likeness to it though, which is why I'm sticking to my animal theory...it's just wasn't a bear." "So your suggestion is a Bigfoot with wings?" Mulder joked, trying to keep a straight face. Scully could see the speculation in his eyes, but a smile cracked her polished demeanor, teasingly answering, "Well, I haven't disproved that yet." Mulder rocked back on the bed with a sudden energy burst, "Dear Diary," he spoke while grinning ruefully, "today my heart leapt again when Agent Scully suggested Bigfoot. Addendum...if this keeps up, I'll make sure to keep my next cardiologist check-up." "Mulder!" Scully couldn't help but laugh, straightening herself in the chair. "I'm serious about this theory. I was there--I know what I saw and heard. And Mulder, Bigfoot doesn't exist...just like Big Blue, the Jersey Devil, Moth Men, or El Chupacabra. Those are fabrications created from people who have nothing else better to do so they get a thrill hearing their names in the news or to win a guest spot on Jerry Springer." "Ah, Scully," Mulder chided, sitting upright to face her from across the room, "But don't you think there could be such possibilities out there? It's an infinite universe we live in, 99.99999% of it untouched by man. Our earth is like a grain of sand compared to the vast space out there. How do we know what does and does not exist?" "Well, I believe we see what we're meant to see." Scully retorted, her answer derived from her deep-rooted religious beliefs. Mulder nodded his brown head, popping a new sunflower seed into his mouth. His eyes darted over to the papers next to him. Scully followed his eyes toward the ledgers, and slowly walked across the room to grab a stack of papers. She sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, the leftover papers between her and her partner. "Lets get it on." Mulder commented, opening a stack himself. X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ------------------- 3:10 PM - SATURDAY Scully's cabin ------------------- The twittering notes of birdsong wafted through the open cabin windows, a silent breeze stirred the yellowed curtains with gentle caresses, letting them fall back against the wall between gusts. The sunlight was warm and bright, many campers outside searching the skies for tiny winged bodies soaring through the air. Every now and again, stranger's voices of "Look! I think it's a red-headed woodpecker" or "Aw, look at the ducks--do we have any bread?" imposed into the cabin, not to mention the shouts of playing children as they ran by, pounding like a herd of wild mustangs. After the morning's strange events, and Paul's explanation of a bear, the camp had returned to its original state consisting of excited people making the most out of their vacations. Mulder was pretending to be engrossed in their researching, although after a few hours of reading the ledgers, the words had become a swirl of blue, black, and white. He had almost forgotten what his whole idea had been about the documents, the absence of air conditioning in the warm afternoon making him drowsy. His mind kept switching from the papers in front of him to the morning's incident, the latter finally winning his concentration. The idea of losing Scully was the same as taking air from his lungs, the beat from his heart. The simple thought alone tore at his chest with a deafening pain that paralyzed his entire being. His senses were on high alert by his partner's entrancing presence inches away on the bed. It was easy to create scenarios in his mind, to suddenly be swathed in fearlessness, to look up into her endless blue eyes and make the black, confined secrets of his heart be known. While he spent his life searching for the truth in the world around him, he could not reveal his own truth, his own true feelings. He felt like a complete hypocrite, wanting truth so desperately, yet not able to contribute his own. He realized why this truth he was searching for had yet to be found--the truth in humans was compounded by lies, by layers created to protect it from ever being exposed. So what was the right thing to do, he wondered, or maybe there wasn't one right way at all. It was wrong to jeopardize what they had, their work and partnership, for a moment of truth, a declaration of love. These feelings he harbored could only destroy a friendship, a friendship he was sure Scully had always wanted to never change. And yet, he tortured himself with a replay of the moment outside his apartment. The truth was there that day, the protective layers stripped away, no regrets, no worries about the friendship, but a new step to what they had already established. With the memory, a series of questions invaded his thoughts, frustrating questions he could not answer alone. But why then? Why that moment when there were so many other opportunities before that? Was it fate that a bee all the way from Texas just happened to sting her at exactly the wrong time? Was she glad the bee stopped her? Does she even remember now? The last thought pained him far greater than even his thoughts could express. Her expression of love forgotten? To him, it was impossible, but that impossibility had been staring him in the face ever since that day. "Something good on that page?" Scully asked in a soft voice, her eyes never budging from her own papers. Mulder's thoughts whirlwinded back to reality. The blood thumped thickly in his chest, but his voice rang out calmly--used to the fine-tuned process of filtering out any other emotion. "Ah, just looking over everything closely." Scully took that moment to look up at him, almost disbelieving in her expression. A light knock at the door broke their attention. Mulder whipped the ledgers together in haphazard stack, shoving them under the bed while Scully groggily stood to her feet, glad to be rid of the tiresome names and weekly dates written on the ledgers. She didn't notice Mulder keeping an eye on her as she quickly shut the closet door on their equipment before opening the cabin door with a quiet turn of the doorknob. "Well hit the nail on the head, I found the right cabin!" Wafted in the sing-song of Dorothy's delighted voice as Scully opened the door wider to her, "I didn't see you two at lunch so I figured you two were...ah, spending a little quality time alone." She gave them a quick wink and a sparkling grin. "Anyway, I brought you a little something to eat." The small woman walked inside at Scully's gesture, carrying a brown paper sack with noticeable grease spots along its bottom. "My stomach thanks you." Mulder said gratefully, taking the bag from Dorothy's outstretched hand and rummaging through it. As Scully shut the door, Dorothy added, "And I'm also the carrier of some juicy news." The elderly woman's last statement diverted Mulder's attention away from the food, long enough for Scully to hungrily steal the bag from his hands. "Drop the Chulupa." Mulder directed toward his partner, receiving an icy stare in return, her expression ultimately leading to the conclusion to let her keep the bag. "We've been keeping surveillance on the man I told you about this morning." Dorothy began, taking Scully's seat at the end of the bed, "But this afternoon when we got back from lunch, he had packed up his belongings and left without a trace. His cabin was as empty as a cookie jar left in a schoolhouse, but this could only mean one thing--his cover was blown. Maybe he knew about you, or about us, or about all of us, but either way, the results can't be good. We were really trying to keep it low-key, our advantage being that he didn't know we were watching him." "Who's 'we'?" Scully asked, rescuing a shiny red apple from a pool of grease. Dorothy and Mulder both gave her a stare. "What?" Scully asked through a mouthful of apple, noticing the looks. She shook her head, adding "Sure, fine." before taking a seat in the red chair. "This could mean we are all in danger." Dorothy continued, turning back to Mulder. "And whatever is out there could be in danger too." Mulder nodded thoughtfully. "Have you ever seen this man here before?" "No, I don't think so. The activity in these parts has been the same for years, and no one has paid any mind to it. But this year, it's different with Beth and Lou's disappearances, the noises, and what your partner experienced today. The government is sending their goons out here for more than just the disappearance of two people, but it hasn't happened 'till now. We're determined to preserve whatever is out there, no matter the risk." "Preserving the truth." Mulder murmured absentmindedly. "Anyway," Dorothy continued, lightening her voice, "The others in our group are a little shy, but I'd like you to meet them tonight at the mixer. They would love to hear some of your theories." They both ignored the amused snort from across the room. Mulder nodded with a wry grin, "Well, I guess you've given me a good excuse to go." "And what about you, Kate?" Dorothy continued, looking over to the chair, grinning warmly. Scully looked like she considered the offer with distaste. "Well, I was hoping to curl up with a good book, maybe get some extra sleep." "That means she'll be there." Dorothy whispered to Mulder with a wink. Mulder nodded enthusiastically, walking the spry woman to the door, her head easy a foot beneath his own. "We're also going to look for some Chickadees this afternoon if you're interested." Dorothy added with a twinkle lighting up her blue eyes. Mulder chuckled. "As tempting as that is, Dorothy, I think I'll pass." Dorothy gave her feathery chuckle, reaching up to give his cheek a squeeze before he could avoid it. He watched her amble down the path, already pulling out her binoculars to get a closer look at a nearby bird. Mulder smiled as he closed the door, turning back to the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. "Why didn't you tell her about the bug? Their cabins could be under surveillance as well." Scully asked curiously. "Remember the policy, 'trust no one'?" "Well, you two seem to have a certain simpatico. And anyway, I thought you changed it to 'trust everyone'." Scully chided. "Oh, didn't I tell you, Scully, I changed it back." Scully folded her arms, biting her lip to keep a smile from appearing on her lips. "And besides, it's not Dorothy I'm worried about. Something strange is going on here, Scully." Mulder commented as he grabbed a slightly soggy taco from the bag Dorothy had brought. "And whoever or whatever is trying to be concealed out there, we've got to find it...first." "You mean how Beth and Lou tried to find it?" Scully interjected, "No thanks." "Well, we can't just sit around here. I'm sure that man Dorothy mentioned is out there right now. He knows about us, Scully. I bet when his bug stopped working that gave him a huge clue. It's probably just as dangerous here as it would be if we were out hiking in the woods." "That very well could be, but what are we even looking for?" "We'll know when we find it." Mulder stated simply, taking a large bite of taco, a smile playing at his lips. "But foremost, you could say we're looking for Beth and Lou. We're going on two days since their disappearance." "What exactly do you have in mind? We have that 'bird breakfast' in the morning." "Mmmm...two eggs over easy sounds really good right about now." Mulder quickly shuddered at the death rays coming across the room, jumping ahead without missing a beat. "Ah, afterward, we can slip away without anyone noticing our absence. We've got all the necessary gear, and we pretty much know our way to North Ridge after today." Scully shuddered at the thought of returning to that dreaded path she had hiked just hours earlier. She knew her conscience wouldn't allow Mulder to go on the hike alone, but her insides were screaming at her not to go. "Alright Mulder, but we're going to go, check over everything, and then get out of there." Mulder nodded triumphantly. "It's a date." He stood, still holding on to the bag of food, "And speaking of dates, I have to go throw on my party shoes for tonight's festive mixer...for appearance's sake of course." "Yee-haw." Scully sighed unenthusiastically, watching Mulder let himself out. X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ------------------ 5:10PM - SATURDAY SKYHIGH SHOWERS ------------------ Scully had been alone in the showers, gratefully scrubbing the dirt and grime of the last day and a half away. The air was filled with a soapy smell as she stepped out and dressed, hearing the groan from the pipes on the men's side, indicating the presence of another dirty camper taking advantage of the warm running water. She grabbed her belongings, and headed out the door, running straight into Mulder. "Well, well. You scrub my back I scrub yours?" He grinned, a towel slung across his shoulder, a bar of soap in his hands. "Getting ready to impress the bird-women tonight?" She teased, moving to walk past him. "Maybe it's not a bird-woman." came the response. Scully could feel the warmth in her cheeks as she kept moving, not looking back. At her rapid pace, it didn't take her long to reach her cabin, letting out a deep breath the moment the door slammed behind her. She never knew if their words were simple ways to make their case-work easier, or if there was actually truth behind it. Although, she wished for the latter, she couldn't let herself believe it if it really wasn't true. Late-afternoon clouds were rolling across the camp, darkening the outside light to the point Scully had to switch on the lamp. Although the clouds were a pregnant light gray, it didn't look like rain was coming anytime soon. At least, to Scully's joy, the temperature had cooled down by five degrees or more, and she let the cleansing winds continue to swirl through the cabin. Her fingers massaged her temples in tiny circles as she flopped into the chair next to one of the open windows. She could see the lake from this view, its waters turning a dark gray from the cloud's shadows, the waves chopping more crisply at the banks. Trees bent and swayed in tune to the wind, a beautiful mountain waltz that mesmerized Scully for several minutes. She quickly caught herself staring at the landscape, mechanically grabbing for the case folder, but deciding against it. Instead, she picked up Beth's journal, flipping it open to where she had left off. She was looking for clues, she reminded herself, skimming through four years of entries, a large chunk in the middle about Beth's discovery of PC, of how she had her last session with her therapist, of the countless letters and talks on the phone she and Lou had during the rest of the year. It amazed Scully how one person could make someone's life so complete, fulfilled. But maybe it wasn't that amazing. Wasn't her life very similar? Who did she hang out with besides Mulder? Maybe there was her mother, her family, but she had to admit there really wasn't anyone else. About 90% of the time, messages on her answering machine had Mulder's voice attached to them, it was Mulder she saw everyday at work, who she traveled with on cases, and it was Mulder who had saved her from death on multiple occasions. Although, she decided, the work and the near-death experiences went hand-in-hand, but it all revolved around her partner. Sure, they had had their differences, but just as Beth, she wasn't complaining. She moved near the end of the journal, the date of the last entry grabbing her attention. It was dated two days ago--the day Beth and Lou had disappeared. Scully immediately started reading... << "Beautiful." The sun's golden rays reflected on two spherical circles of glass, its magnifying eyes gliding in harmony with a velvet black wingspan and the starch white cap of a bald eagle. As the bird of prey glided behind the craggy side of a mountain, the binoculars slowly moved downward, the seam from a pair of khakis coming into view. "Hey!" came the pleasantly surprised laugh, Lou twisting a bulging hiker's backpack across his shoulders. "Ahem." Spoke out Beth's soft, teasing voice, gesturing at the backpack with a thrust of her chin, "You're blocking the view." "You jus' got your binocular permit revoked, young lady." Lou spoke with a purposefully thick southern drawl, charging toward the source of joyous laughter. "Maybe while I'm at it, I should check your car decals to make sure they haven't expired." The joke on the local police engaged them in a round of laughter, Beth willingly surrendering her binoculars as her large brown eyes sparkled with an excited softness. The look was returned with a pair of blue eyes, of a warmness that made Beth shy away after only a few seconds. Beth's heart and mind were alive with the mountain wilderness, time seeming to sweep by so quickly during her short yearly visit with Lou. If she could have willed time to stop, she would have--she just couldn't have enough. Yet, a new realization had started eating away at her, ever since her second year to the camp. Lou really did want to spend time with her, not a leggy ranger or some tiny visitor that modeled for a living. She had been wrong about him, making assumptions based on his looks that embarrassed her for doing so. Each year she discovered a new depth within him. He was a far more amazing man than she even imagined existed within another human. She was pleasantly surprised. Mutually, they moved together across the worn rock trail, past familiar trees and the blooming white petals of dogwood. Lou took a long drink from a half-full canteen, passing it over to Beth before she even had to ask. "Was that 'ol Barney back there?" Lou inquired, his cropped blonde hair being peppered with leafy shadows right before he covered it with his familiar dark brown hat. "Sure was." Beth replied after finishing a long swallow from the canteen, a dribble of water winding from the corner of her mouth to drip from her chin. "He was heading back to the nest with a good- sized fish from the river." Lou's thin bottom lip stretched into a grin, his tanned features stayed smooth and supple with the change in his facial muscles. "I bet Betty and the babies will be happy to see that." "It'll probably put her into shock." Beth joked with him, both knowing Betty was the main hunter in the family. Her brown ponytail danced with the cool mountain breezes as she walked, her body shadowed next to Lou's lean, tall form. "So were you able to see anything else with the binoculars?" Lou went on, his voice now quieter with the change in subject. "Everything looked the same. The man said he saw lights right in the middle of North Ridge last night, but nothing seems to be touched." "You think he was lying through his teeth?" "It's possible. Although, don't forget about the vagrant--she said almost the same thing." "Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong part of the Ridge." Lou spoke thoughtfully. "When I get another break tonight, we can look again if you want to. We can head farther North this time." "Okay, sounds good." Beth replied, looking up to offer him a smile. Beth moved down a steep incline in the trail first, Lou extending a helping hand around her upper arm as they carefully picked their way through the loose rock. As they rounded a bend, they ran right into two men huffing their way up the trail. "Mornin' ranger." The older of the two men spoke first, his head slightly balding, his body surprisingly lean and muscled, looking odd underneath a dirty pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up above the elbows. Beth decided he was probably some New York businessman trying to fit in with the locals for a few days. Lou politely touched the brim of his hat with two fingers, "Mornin' folks. It's a beautiful afternoon for a hike." "Sure is." Grinned the second man, a couple inches shorter than the first, but also dressed causally. He was cautiously climbing up the incline in front of the older man, taking tiny steps as if it was his first time ever to do something so 'dangerous.' "Oh!" Beth suddenly gasped, a large group of rocks rolling beneath her shoes, unable to grip onto anything solid with her feet. She landed square on her back, feeling the tiny jabs of rock down her spine. She then felt the tight grip still on her arm, noticing Lou had attempted to break her fall, almost sliding down himself, but had managed to stop her body from sliding down the trail any further. "Are you alright, miss?" the older man asked, only a few feet above Beth's dazed eyes. She squinted from a patch of sun that was bearing down on her face, her eyes moving up to the man, her cheeks already red hot from embarrassment. "Oh...er...yes, thanks. Accidents happen out..." her eyes suddenly widened as she caught a glimpse under the flannel. "...here." Her face had grown a record-breaking pale in less than a second, her heart beating a rush of panic through her veins. She made a mad rush to get to her feet, trying as hard as possible to stay calm on the exterior, rocks and dust scratching and clouding around her. "Wait...wait, take it easy." Lou was instructing, his eyes finally looking into hers, registering alarm in the silent message she was sending. "What is it?" he mouthed, without any sound, Beth reading his lips immediately. "He's got a gun." Less than a second after she mouthed those words, she immediately felt her body being whipped behind Lou's with a strength she didn't even know Lou was capable of. She knew Lou had never been in any kind of situation like the one unfolding, and the reality of them being injured or murdered in the woods was right upon them. Beth was frozen in terror, but aware of Lou's protective arm holding her back. She had no idea what he was going to do. Lou didn't say a word. He slowly removed his hat, possibly deciding it was inappropriate for anything that was about to transpire next. He once again glanced at Beth from the corner of his eye, and she had never realized how much she loved him as she did right then. His chin was held high, his lips tight together, and a glint of steel was present in his narrowed eyes. Even though he was a young man who loved birds and nature, he was undoubtedly no coward, especially when it came down to her. "Everything's alright now?" asked the younger man, looking across his buddy to the pair down below. "Not exactly." Was the cool response from Lou, his jaw slightly twitching. "There are no firearms allowed in the park." This surprised the men, although the older one quickly regained his composure to answer, "Why, we know that. Thanks for the info, ranger." They thought they were going to get away. "You have a gun--under your shirt." Beth accused, barely able to make out the words. She had never been so brave in all of her life. The scene from her first trip to the cafeteria flashed through her mind, how she could hardly stand to eat near other people, and now here she was speaking up against a man carrying a gun. A man who could have easily whipped it out and shot them both. "You must have hit your head, young lady," the man continued, keeping a cool exterior. "That's okay--all of us get confused." "Okay, sir, then lift up your shirt and we'll clear up this matter once and for all." Lou continued, now feeling Beth opening his backpack and digging around for his own weapon he kept. He was wondering how he could reach it, but Beth had picked the perfect solution since she was behind him. "Now, mister, I don't know what's..." "Put your hands in the air!" came the wavering female voice from behind, a gun flashing in her hand. She had absolutely no idea how to use it, but so far she could have won an Emmy for best actress. Lou grabbed the gun, a huge wave of relief sweeping over him as the cold metal made contact with his hands. He rapidly jogged up the incline, the men holding their hands in the air, annoyed expressions across their faces. "Which one?" he asked Beth, frisking the older man at Beth's answer. It took less than ten seconds to pull a 9mm from the man's waist. "This is an awfully big gun you've got here." Lou went on, checking the other man while holding up his own gun. "What were you planning on using it on?" Both men were silent, their faces stone-cold. Lou immediately moved to the smaller man, which seemed to be the weaker of the two. "You know," Lou hissed, moving until he was face-to-face with the man, "you won't need these pretty buttons on your shirt when you have a row of bullets from your navel to your nose." The young man looked nervously over to the other, squeezing his eyes shut at the mental picture. He seemed to be waging an inner war with himself, fear finally winning the struggle. "We were sent!" he finally blurted. "Sent by whom?" Lou prodded. "I don't know. We just get the orders--never see who makes them." The man went on. "What were the orders?" "We're supposed to kill something. They said we'd know when we'd see it. That's all I know, I swear!" "You snitch!" came the angry voice of the other man. Lou exchanged a look with Beth. "Can you grab my radio? We need to call these guys in." Beth nodded, forcing her frozen limbs to take action toward Lou's bag, her hands trembling violently as she searched. The next moments were a blur to her, her ears picking up the sounds of scuffing dirt, her eyes darting upward to see the younger man had made a bold attempt to kick the gun from Lou's hand. She knew Lou would never shoot another being, and his reluctance to fire at the two men confirmed it. She didn't know what to do, the 9mm and Lou's gun both skittering down the hill at lightning speed, rocks and debris falling with it. The older man skillfully whirled around with his fist, making a direct hit to Lou's stomach, hearing his familiar voice make a loud "oomph" as he fell to his knees, his hat being the next item to tumble down toward her. "Get the gun!" the younger man called, the older one resisting by giving his buddy a hard push in the other direction. "No, you fool--she's closer to it--come on!" And with that statement the men had clumsily took a running start up the hill and had disappeared from sight, their footfalls fading from earshot. Although the woods were now eerily silent, the threat of the two men would never escape Beth's memory for as long as she lived. Beth's breath was caught in her throat, her lungs burning for a refresh of oxygen. Her body attempted a mad scramble to the doubled-over form above her. She slipped and strained up the trail, her feet scrambling for security against the loose rock. Her hand reached out, but hesitated, her newfound bravery once again propelling her to wrap an arm around Lou's back. The dark brown cloth was damp with sweat, the same condition her own clothes were in, not to mention huge smears of dirt on her backside. Lou was still in a semi-circle, clutching his stomach, breathing rapidly next to his knees. "Lou, are you okay?" Beth asked in a voice that almost sounded tearful, unsure. "Yeah, yeah." He wheezed, "Just got the wind knocked out of me." He slowly began to unfold his body, his face, still covered in tense lines, contorted with pain as he moved. Beth's arm didn't move away, but attempted to encourage his motions. She could now feel the tears springing to life in her eyes, unable to hold back the range of emotions and sheer terror she had just been through. But they were also tears of thanks, of gratefulness that they were both still alive, breathing, and barely scathed. "Beth." Came Lou's throaty whisper, easily and softly grabbing behind her neck and pulling her in for a tight hug. He also understood what could have been, reveling in the strong pulse of blood beating just beneath the surface of Beth's skin, the heat of her rapid breath against his own neck. Although Beth felt a tinge of awkwardness, their touching had always been a minimum, it felt wonderful to be able to have her arm around him, alive and well. They stayed together in the hold for several minutes, although it was too short for Beth's taste, Lou slowly released her to add, "We've gotta' keep this quiet." Beth nodded grimly. She understood. "No one would ever believe us when we have no proof." "You're right." Lou continued, stretching his legs out a little further, "But they were sent to exterminate something that's up on the Ridge. We've got to find it before the next set of goons do, whatever life that is up there depends on it." "Tonight, then." Beth conceded. "Tonight." Was Lou's confirmation. >> It was there the last entry stopped, Scully suddenly feeling very chilled by the last events, the images so vivid and real in her mind that her own heart was rapidly drumming in her ears. She checked the rectangular clock on the night stand, the red digital letters registering 6:40. The dance would be starting soon. -------------------- 7:22 PM - SATURDAY SKYHIGH DANCE HALL -------------------- The evening weather at Skyhigh Bird Camp was unusually muggy and humid, the hovering clouds above seeming to have dragged the moisture with them. Yet the throngs of people drinking and dancing inside the dance hall located next to the cafeteria didn't seem to be affected by it. A local band was playing what Mulder guessed was supposed to be their rendition of a popular country tune as he entered the scene, the speakers onstage emitting a slight buzz when the bass player strummed across his instrument, guitars colliding together in harmony. The band of five men moved their bodies and stomped their boots with the rhythm, one main singer leading the way, with the other four voices occasionally jumping in to back him up. Dressed-up bodies were crowded onto the tiny dance floor and spilled into the dining area, swaying and sweating in time to the music's rhythm, tipping back drinks from inside brightly painted bird glasses. The ceiling was a mixture of cloudy smoke and flashing colored lights, one of the bird crepe paper strings were sagging dangerously toward the dancer's heads. No one seemed to notice as a large group of campers formed a circle with joined hands, two-stepping happily as they dizzily swung around. Mulder craned his head around the swirl of dancing bodies, his dark eyes straining for a glimpse of the person he wanted to be there most of all. He sighed deeply, inhaling the warm night as he patiently searched, knowing his pounding heart would be appeased the moment he laid eyes on her. Whether she was sitting in a corner giving him one of her famous distasteful looks, hands folded across her chest, all that mattered was that she was there. His movements slow, he took one last sweep through the crowd. He looked past the twirling skirts, cowboy hats, and glittering jewelry, his findings a disappointment when he couldn't spot a familiar glimpse of red hair within the entire room. "Well, I'll be! You made it, Henry!" Came Dorothy's boisterous voice, diverting his attention to a large table near the back of the room. The elderly woman had stood up, revealing a modest blouse and skirt, looking odd without her bird-watching battle gear that Mulder had become used to from all of their previous meetings. Her bony hand motioned with excited circles for him to join the table. "Come join us. Sit a spell!" A crooked grin appeared across Mulder's lips as he strided toward Dorothy and the two men she was sitting with. An older man, very close to Dorothy's age, and a younger man in his fifties eyed him closely as he pulled up a chair. "I saw you looking around here like a lost lamb." Dorothy leaned in close to Mulder's ear, the blue in her eyes sparkling wildly, "Don't you worry, though, I was late to every cotillion I ever went to--it used to drive the beaus wild." She winked again knowingly, "The beautiful ones are always late." Mulder endured another squeeze of his cheek as Dorothy piped up with introductions. "Well, here he is, boys. This here is Henry who I became better acquainted with on the hike this morning. You should just hear this fella' talk--and I thought we had it bad." Her infectious laugh filled the table as she went on to tease, "And contrary to what his lady friend may think, this one here is all mine." Mulder exchanged an amused look with the men, fidgeting uncomfortably against the hard oak chair as he nodded a greeting. "So I've been bumped from being the youngest, eh?" Retorted the younger man, leaning across the table to extend his hand. "At least, Dorothy dear, my cheek can rest in peace. All that squeezing reminds me of Christmas when I was growing up--my Aunt Bessie never failed to leave a mark that would last for days." Dorothy chuckled lightly while Mulder and the younger man shook hands across the table. "I'm Nigel." The young man continued, letting Mulder know how athletic he was as he offered an iron-grip handshake. "Ah, I had one of those Aunts too--I think every family does." Mulder mused, relaxing his lanky frame against the knobbed posts on the back of the chair. It had been difficult to try on a variety of different clothes back at the cabin, Andrew's goggled eyes staring at him every inch of the way, but his final choice ended up being a crisp pair of khakis accented by a dark blue polo shirt. He had decided it had made him look rugged and refined, revealing an inherent strength and sureness in him that masked a lot of his worry about playing along with the mixer...and with knowing Scully would be there--sooner or later. "And this here is George." Dorothy prompted the elderly man next to her as he sat stiffly in his chair, arms folded squarely across his chest. "Humph." George grumbled, the hard creases from wrinkles deepening around the firmness of his jaw. Mulder simply nodded, holding back the impulse to smile at the man's amusing grumpiness. Dorothy jabbed the older man with her elbow, George returning an irritated scowl. "It's his birthday." Dorothy whispered into Mulder's ear as if that explained it all. "When you move past 75, any birthday after that makes anyone depressed." "I'm not depressed." George ranted, turning to Mulder. "I'm George Washington Hartford--named after our very first president. No matter how old I get I know not to be as trusting as these two--how do we know who you really are and why you're here? A little proof never hurts anyone." Before Mulder could open his mouth, Dorothy had jumped in with an amused chuckle, giving Mulder's arm a pat. "Questioning him would be questioning me, George. You know I can sense bad from good a mile away. And don't be an old fool--you know what happened this afternoon." "Humph." "His chirp is worse than his bite." Nigel supplied, suddenly perking up as the band played the ending notes to a song. "Okay, all of you bird-lovin' honky-tonks listen up!" The lead singer from the band drawled through the microphone, drowning out the crowd completely as a high pitched feedback squealed from the speakers. The drummer jumped down and started tinkering with it as the lead continued, "Today we have a special event here at Skyhigh! Let's all give a 'tweet-tweet' for George..." the man put his hand over the microphone, whispering something to a woman, then returned, "...ahem...this seems to be the correct name...for George Washington!" "Tweet-tweet!" The crowd chorused at the top of their lungs, throwing glasses into the air and laughing. "Oh no." George grumbled, sinking lower into his seat. "Dorothy...you deliberately left out my last name. People will think I'm crazy!" "And where's our first president out in the crowd tonight?" the man enthusiastically called, a white spotlight zipping across the room. Dorothy was laughing at her friend. "I know that, you 'ol coot, but that's the point. Now stand up so the folks can clap." Nigel was practically rolling from laughter across the table, earning him death rays, Mulder noted, that Scully would have been proud of. "You just wait." George warned, half-standing for a second as the white light flooded across his wrinkled, pasty face, sinking back into his chair faster than an anchor hitting the water. "I bet George has some great stories about crossing the Delaware to share." The singer joked, laughter coursing through the hall. Mulder could just make out the "Hmph" from George as the band keyed back up into a Brooks & Dunn number. He could see that George treasured Dorothy's company far more than he let on, and from the tiny exchange of smiles between them, she knew it too. Mulder made a sidelong glance toward the double-door entrance, his eyes catching a glimpse of Gil entering the hall. He was wearing a huge, silver belt buckle that glittered against the lights, a new pair of jeans and a crisp western shirt that seemed to be saved for only special occasions. It didn't take long for one of the ladies to sweep up next to him, and after a courteous oblige, they skipped into the teeming crowd. "There goes 'ol Gil." Dorothy commented to the table, "He never fails to pass a woman's reputable radar as being the perfect, sweet guy, so most women aren't afraid to come up to ask him to dance. Too bad he's more interested in birds than in finding a nice little lady." Mulder nodded, still starting into the crowd, not finding his partner. "So," Dorothy piped up enthusiastically. "Who's going to do the boot scootin' boogie with me?" She grabbed Mulder's arm before there were any responses. "Oh, no, no, no." Mulder replied instantly, a sudden deadpan expression crossing his face. "Now, come on. It obvious you and Kate certainly aren't dance partners. Now, when is the last time you danced?" "Country style? Never." Mulder replied quickly, trying to remove Dorothy's firm grasp from his arm. "Well, now, it's past time you learned. Can you seriously leave this world knowing you haven't learned as much as you possibly could have?" Mulder gave a helpless look to the men who were now staring at him with amusement. "Give it up, son." George spoke up. "She always wins...especially when she adds the Grim Reaper into the picture." Nigel added. "B-but..." Mulder protested, his eyes wide. Dorothy dragged him to his feet, "You heard him--better to give up now and make the pain easier on you." She gave him a wink. "I-I don't know the steps." Mulder continued his pleas, moving to the dance floor slowly behind the tiny, elderly woman. "What's to know--you just hop around, have a good time, and you're in the club." Dorothy chuckled, moving amongst the dancers. Mulder sighed, now glad his partner was not there to witness his downfall into country dancing. He decided that the sooner he got the dance over with the better as he started jerkily swaying while Dorothy grabbed his hands. "Now move those fine hips of yours, Henry, this is not a waltz." Dorothy instructed in a high-spirited voice, her feet zigzagging across the floor, her tiny body moving as light as air. It had been years since he had done any kind of dancing, and although awkward at first, the feint memory of why most everyone loved dancing tingled in his mind. It felt good to let loose a little, especially with someone else, and slowly, Mulder began to feel the beat of the music in his legs. Instead of moving against the crowd, gradually he began moving with the rhythm, a hint of a smile threatening to break at his lips. His dancing partner was laughing as she spun in a circle, her gray bun loosening to the point stray gray hairs were breaking loose from the tight swirl. Mulder noted Dorothy's cotillions had paid off, since she was moving gracefully and with ease for a woman over seventy. Together they weaved around bodies that were glistening with sweat, tassels and bolos flapping, the scents of different perfumes sweeping by for only an instant. It wasn't as bad as he imagined, the scene becoming almost surreal, but he knew if it wasn't for Dorothy's insistence, he would have never been there in the first place. He never dreamed of doing something so unorthodox from his character, but the whole point was that no one noticed or cared if he knew the steps or not, or that he was out there at all. "There's Big John and his little boy." Dorothy chatted as she twirled, "that's who you're staying with, isn't it?" Mulder felt a sudden chill along his spine at the thought. "Yeah, that's them." "Aw, such a sweet shy boy he's got." Dorothy went on, "He's always in his cabin. I feel so terrible for the little guy." Mulder had to bite his tongue as he joined hands with Dorothy and a stranger, the dancers making a line at the lead singer's call. No one would ever believe his accusations against Andrew, a grown man making accusations about a little boy was hopeless. The line moved up and down the dance floor, the man calling out, "Swing your partner round 'n round..." as Mulder broke away from the group, giving Dorothy another twirl. It was then his eyes caught a familiar glimpse in the doorway at the back. He waited for a couple to move away from his field of vision, but he already knew who is was before he caught sight of his partner once more. Scully's eyes were meticulously searching the dance hall, not yet finding Mulder's whereabouts. She was wearing a light blue top, a sleeveless linen that looked comfortable and simple, alongwith a sleek, black skirt that looked familiarly like a piece that went together with one of her work suits. She was so perfectly put together, almost intimidatingly so, and her eyes were even brighter than normal as they swept across the crowd like a lighthouse beacon. Mulder immediately remembered one of the first things he'd noticed about her when she had first walked into his office. It was those wide, clear eyes, the color of mountain blueberries--a fathomless indigo with a touch of purple in their depths. And now she wore an elegant top smothered in that same color, nearly taking his breath away. Her chin length, reddish-gold hair was like a pair of shining parentheses framing her face, and with a self-confident toss of her head, the strands moved slowly, only to settle immediately back where they belonged. Her image was cool and collected, as always, as her head slowly turned toward Mulder, making eye contact with him. "Oooh, lordy, Henry." Dorothy called theatrically, giving her tongue a click, "If any man can resist that entrance there must be something wrong with them. She's a woman on a mission--you go get her before someone else does." The elderly woman encouraged. Mulder turned toward Dorothy mechanically, weakly looking away from Scully's potent entrance. He noticed Nigel had cut in to dance with Dorothy, an envious grin on the man's lips. Mulder nodded courteously, holding in a grin himself as he walked his numb legs and body from the dance floor. Scully was waiting for him at the edge, staring at the surroundings. "I feel like I'm holding a third class ticket on Titanic." She commented, looking around her at the noisy, crowded dance hall full of partygoers. "I guess you decided to read your book later?" Mulder taunted, remembering Scully's words from earlier that afternoon. "Actually I finished it." Scully replied casually, not missing a beat. "I had nothing else to do this evening, so here I am. I see you've wasted no time getting into the bird spirit." Mulder smiled inwardly. "Just making an old woman happy." "You make it sound like community service." "Well, I don't see you up there on the dance floor." "This is for appearance's sake, remember? And..." Scully paused a moment as she looked over toward the refreshment tables, "Is that Andrew over there spiking the punch?" Mulder snorted as he noticed the red-headed menace dumping brown and clear liquids into the punch. "Would you like a cup?" "Henry, that's not funny." Scully reprimanded with a scowl, making a move toward the punch bowl when she collided into Paul's enormous frame, both of them startling. It was Mulder's turn to scowl as he saw that dimple appear in the ranger's cheek. "Ma'am." Paul said politely, tipping his hat in apology, as if he was totally surprised by 'accidentally' running into Scully. Mulder's features turned darker, being a guy himself, it wasn't hard to see a pick-up line being carefully constructed. He was sure Scully had to catch it as well. "Wanna' dance? They're playin' a catchy tune." Paul boldly continued, managing to weed Mulder's steely glance away as he blocked Scully's vision with a massive arm. Mulder counted down the seconds, predicting Scully's famous, business-like demeanor to reveal itself and to put this mammoth in his place without even hesitating. Paul's proposal was so obviously ridiculous--Scully would never accept such a thing. He waited another moment, his brows furrowing at the silence, a burn igniting in his stomach. He noticed Scully had opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. He didn't realize that she had been unsure how to make peace between her partner and Paul, the silent glares between them not hard to miss. To Mulder, the pause had relayed a wrong message, his veins turning into an uncontrollable fire. She was actually considering it, Mulder fumed, how could she after discovering the emptiness that hid beneath its flashy exterior?! He desperately wanted to grab the tree-trunk arm in front of him, move it aside, and whisk the woman he didn't want to share into the colored lights, twirling skirts, and melancholy country notes. To only hold her in his arms, hands clasped, hips inches apart and swaying together in harmonious step were the images flooding his mind with hurricane force. His emotions were running wild across his skin, his breath was short and labored, but he knew he had to move away while he still could. The only thing worse than watching a dance between his partner and Paul was allowing his romantic thoughts to escape into the open in a moment of jealousy he couldn't help but feel; to ruin a friendship he never wanted to lose...ever. That pain was the most unbearable of all. Mulder rushed over toward Scully, leaning into her hair's fragrance of mountain wildflowers, but able to whisper in a hurried rush, "Don't let me stop you." Scully was absolutely stunned as she tried to whip around to look into Mulder's face, but he was already making a bee-line for the door, disappearing into the black night in a matter of seconds. X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ------------------- 8:38 PM - SATURDAY ------------------- " 'Whoever you are In the evening go outside Out of your room Where you know everything.'" Mulder whipped around as the wind carried Scully's soft voice to his ears. He was perched precariously at the end of the dock, his shoes hastily kicked to the side, while the cool lake water flowed between his toes. He strained his eyes into the darkness toward the other end of the dock, the white of the moon stubbornly shining in between a gap in the clouds, illuminating his partner as she emerged, immersed in silver, like an angel full of grace. "Rilke." Mulder cited, feeling the warmth of a smile form on Scully's face in the darkness. "I didn't know you've read his work." Scully openly observed as she reached the end of the dock, the material from her skirt brushing against the back of her thighs in a soft rustle as she seated herself next to Mulder. She slowly removed her sandals one by one, the wispy scrape of the leather never breaking the night's utter silence or the soft music of the lake. She took a moment to soak in the heavens through the sky's cloudy veil, the pale moonlight illuminating the curve of her neck while the lake gurgled below as her feet hit the waters. "And you know, I definitely think he was on to something." This brought a smile to Mulder's face as his eyes joined Scully's into the infinite space above them. The tiny, white pinpoints of light shone stubbornly through the cloud's mask, a photograph of the past, the future hidden in the dark depths behind them. The night's full moon cast silver rays across the Appalachian Mountains and the lake, cresting each ripple of water with a silver lining, like a perfect white diamond glittering on the surface. The air was laden with the threat of rain, but the persistent wind was fresh and light, intermingling Mulder's well-placed cologne with Scully's flowery shampoo that she had used only a few short hours earlier. Now the only sounds were the tired creaks from the dock and the soft wind brushing through the treetops, listening to the evidence of two breathing souls at the water's edge. "You know," Scully continued as she circled her tiny feet in the cool waters, "sitting here like this reminds me of something that happened a long time ago." Mulder nodded, eagerly hoping Scully wouldn't stop there. "One year when my father came home from sea duty, my mom got all of us dressed up and took us out to the docks to greet him. She started talking with friends of hers, which usually happened while we were waiting, and being kids, it didn't take long for us to get bored. So we snuck away down to the water's edge where Missy and I threw off our shoes and my brothers hiked up their pants. We went wading. Bill started a water fight by flinging water at Charlie, and it didn't take long for everyone to get involved--we all ended up being soaked. Next thing we know, mom is standing there, totally horrified that our good clothes were soaked and our hair looked like something out of Rugrats. We were all grounded for a month, but even though mom would never admit it, having all of us confined to the house with her was more punishment for her than us." Mulder chuckled as he stole a glance at Scully's silver, smooth- skinned face, quickly drawing in a breath at the beauty he beheld. It was rare that they shared stories about their past, but Mulder immensely enjoyed it when Scully did open up those secret hiding places from within her guarded exterior. Of course, he quickly reprimanded himself, he was just as guilty of the same crime by never sitting down with his partner to talk about anything besides a case they were working on, and it bothered him that someone who had impersonated him could do it so easily. Plus, the worse part of that whole ordeal was that all it had taken was a bottle of wine and some firelight to relax his partner, and when he had barged in, they were way too close on the couch for his comfort. It had all been so easy, it seemed, but what it really came down to was who was going to take the first step--the most challenging and difficult move of all. At one time fate had been set into motion in the hallway, but just as a VCR left on pause long enough would burn a hole in a tape, the pause from the hallway was slowly burning a hole in his heart. And now, here she was next to him, talking to him, and so absolutely stunning Mulder couldn't even look at her to keep his heart rate steady. The moon swathed her in it's bluish-white fire, every strand of her silky hair shone like delicate crystals of light, each eye a blue abyss of beauty as they projected their most innermost thoughts into the heavens. Scully looked at him out of the corner of her eye, knowing him too well not to sense that something important was preying on his mind, something he couldn't bring himself to say. She continued slowly, her voice subdued to only one decibel higher than the wind's whispers. "Mulder, why in the world did you run out back at the mixer? Right after you left they started playing 'Rockin' Robin' and the place turned into a complete madhouse. There were more tweeting and arm flapping going on in there than in something you'd find on the Discovery channel." Mulder slowly exhaled and uttered something that sounded like an abrupt laugh. Scully noticed that he had stiffened and seemed suddenly uncomfortable. She wondered if she should backtrack from the question and change the subject, but her instincts were telling her Mulder had an answer, but not one he wanted to share. Her curiosity outweighed her last thought, it was certainly a surprise to her to see him hastily excuse himself when Paul had stepped into the picture. Mulder's thoughts were reeling at lightning speed for a safe answer, but he was well aware of how well his partner knew him, and he didn't want to sit there and fumble around with an obvious made-up story. Over the years he had slowly realized Scully had an uncanny attraction to rugged men in uniform. First there was the local sheriff in Cheney, although he never understood the turn-on with those teeth the sheriff sported. Then of course, there was the time she came back from vacation from Maine, going on and on about 'Jack' and his poster in the office. He was no fool, of course. The minute she had headed out of the office on her way to M street he was using all available FBI resources to find out who this 'Jack' was. He was surprised that it turned out to be an older man with a bit of a cherub-looking face. Both times he couldn't understand what Scully was thinking, but at least with Paul, the physical reasons were more obvious, the confusion starting with the fact that Paul was undoubtedly dumb as a post. But he knew he couldn't lie, couldn't stand to see that disappointed expression on her face because of him. Finally he spoke, his words touched by a wry melancholy, "I didn't want to be in the way of a budding new romance." This brought a roguish smile to Scully's lips and a glowing flash of pink to her cheeks at the thought that Mulder had been bothered by the image. She was only way too familiar with what he was feeling herself, remembering her run-in with her partner and Phoebe in the hall, Detective White on his bed in the hotel, Dr. Bambi...of all names, and...she shuddered at the name...Diana Fowley. "Mulder," she said slowly, taking another quick peek from the corner of her eye to read her partner's expression, "Whatever gave you that idea?" Mulder moved immediately into his previous struggle to produce another ambiguous answer, but was saved as Scully noticed this and continued in a non-committal tone, "I think Dorothy has deemed herself our keeper, because it wasn't two seconds after you left that she stepped in and took Paul off to dance. Of course, she also whispered to me that you owed her one later." Mulder brightened at the mental picture, giving a light chuckle as his shoulders relaxed. Scully knew just how to comfort him and make light of the situation, no matter the circumstances. He turned to face Scully, their eyes instantly locking, a smile playing at both of their lips. Mulder stared longingly into his partner's indigo pools, their gaze seeming to hold forever. "What's going to happen to us, Scully?" Scully's brow made a slight furrow. "What do you mean?" "You know, thirty years from now, when we're so old the best paranormal case is about who put the tooth in the Jell-O." "Well, who's to say that you won't turn out like Dorothy, watching the skies until your last breath? Your spirit is too strong, Mulder. I can't see you willingly ever wanting to stop." Mulder nodded. "Me and my backhoe, right? Always digging further on a quest where the end is only a mirage. But what has happened to our normalcy, an object we made the choice to abandon so many years ago." "Like having 2.3 kids, a dog, and a house with a picket fence?" Scully paraphrased, looking down at her feet as she swirled them in the water. "I believe I've brought this up once before, which you casually brushed off." Mulder didn't confirm or deny Scully's last statement, but added, "Well, maybe it's normal to want that cozy American Dream at some point in your life." "Everyone is different, Mulder, there really isn't a concrete answer as to why our instincts search for that ideal. As Yazid once said, 'This thing we tell of can never be found by seeking, yet only seekers find it.'" Mulder's eyes turned dark and thoughtful. "Ah, more words of wisdom, but that's coming from the guy who also believes 'a single atom of the sweetness of wisdom in a man's heart is better than a thousand pavilions in Paradise.' Do your lifelong religious beliefs just completely agree with that? Eternal paradise is nothing compared to just one atom of kindness in a man's heart?" Scully's eyes froze toward the dark depths of the lake, her body suddenly growing still. She let out a long breath as she boldly turned her head to connect with her partner's shadowed eyes. The drifting clouds above had momentarily filtered out the white glow, making Scully feel more protected than she had been moments earlier. Her eyes had already betrayed the answer she had concluded, shining bright with strength through her soul's blazing windows. She hesitated, her mouth open, feeling as if she were leaning over the edge of an abyss. For some reason she felt compelled to answer, unable to hide her honesty. Her voice was as slow and throaty as the night winds. "It takes finding that one atom to know if it's true. When I read it back in college, I didn't pay much mind to it, but since then...my beliefs have changed." Mulder's heart agonizingly ached to believe she was speaking about more than being 'older and wiser', but didn't have to go far for an answer as the moon peeked through the clouds, a moment of unguarded emotion offered to him as a sacred gift in his partner's eyes. It was paralyzing. Scully had quickly reproached herself for her honesty, but all of her secrets felt invaded, looked-over and unfolded like clothes in a fancy store. She was the clerk, running frantically to put everything back in the correct places, preparing the merchandise for the next big sale. A pang of anxiety clenched her stomach as she snatched her gaze away and back down to the waters. Mulder had been waiting for such an invitation since their moment together in his hallway. Now that it had actually happened, it had been so quick he wasn't certain if it was something his own wistful imagination had concocted. Scully had withdrawn whatever it was she was just offering, and he knew it was crucial not to push or pursue the fragile coil that connected them. He could feel her heavy dread and uncertainty like a dam being opened above them, and he quickly took hold of his senses to devise a way to put her at ease once again. Their conversation had become too intense too quickly, and it was his turn to correct the direction. "How about this," Mulder proposed, his voice cracking on his opening words, "You know how good friends will sometimes make those pacts so they're assured they won't grow old alone? Say, in thirty years if they haven't gotten married they'll marry each other?" Scully raised a curious eyebrow, his voice sounding quite normal after his opening, assisting to help her feel much calmer. She sliced her feet through the cool waters below, the coolness helping to reconcile her and to lend her a small measure of detachment. "Why don't we do that, Scully? Then we'll never have to investigate Jello alone." Mulder kidded, rolling back onto his hands into that distinguished pose of his that was by no means calculated...well, maybe at one time, but now it was just natural. His proposal provoked a subterranean joy from within the pit of her stomach as she observed him with interest. Her comeback was already at the tip of her tongue, her voice ringing out clear and soft. "It would never work." "And why is that, Agent Scully?" A playful smile ignited at the corners of her soft, reddened lips. "I don't think calling each other 'Mulder' would last very long." Mulder grinned ruefully. "Immediate annulment for name calling. Well, you could always talk Frohike into being a Jello assistant." "My arteries would be clogged from all of those huevos rancheros by the time I'm 60." Scully snorted, "I'll pass." "Would you pass on this?" Mulder asked quickly with the slightest of smiles touching his mouth as he pulled his large frame to its feet. He outstretched his arm, offering one of his sturdy hands, his fingers tipped with smooth, rounded nails. Scully's eyes moved from the hand to her partner's face. A deep voice inside her was already whispering for her to take it, to grab hold of the person she desperately wanted. She wasn't sure what Mulder was planning, but she instinctively slid her palm into his, the warmth between them igniting a fire they only pretended not to notice. His hand immediately gripped over hers with a tender strength and with deliberate slowness assisted her to her feet. "I should have asked you this back at the mixer, and it has nothing to do with being undercover." Mulder whispered into the wind, his heart pounding with hurricane force as his nerves set his skin on fire. "Dance with me." "Is that a question?" Scully chided with a smile. "Maybe not, but I don't want 'no' for an answer." Mulder persisted in a serious tone, his memory blurring to only one other time when they had danced. They had left their inhibitions that night, discovering a victim with many more serious problems than the ones they had with each other, and had proudly swayed together to the music, ignoring the throngs of noisy people behind them. But now they were in front of no one but themselves and the shadowed mountainous earth cocooned around them. They shared a respectful silence, a perfect stillness as Scully's bare feet moved closer to Mulder's across the damp wood that had grown dark with age. No sound was emitted from their movements, but the silence was absolute, reverential. There was no need for music, their connection far more harmonious than any note could produce. Mulder's touch was faint and nostalgic to the deep recesses of Scully's memory, sadness seeping from her soul at the thought that these touches were from her partner, her friend, but not from a romantic love, an uncharted territory waiting between them. Mulder could barely contain his feet to stay in their place as he allowed Scully as much time as she wanted to move into his arms. Even though he felt the impulse to rush close to her, he knew after six years it wasn't suddenly going to change into a lightning round. It had to be right and comfortable for both of them, and he may have had ideas where he would like this dance to progress to, but he knew it was important to leave the future unwritten and open, glad that Scully had accepted his invitation at all. He felt the softness of her skin run along the outside of his arms, her hand moving to his back to find a natural place in its embrace. The other hand stayed firmly in his, their lock unbreakable. Scully had stopped her body about a foot away from his, cautious at that distance. She moved her gaze back to her partner's face, the moon's gentle, silver light accentuating the slight shadow under his eyes. She was conscious of the smell of myrrh, of him, her chest struggling with her mind to give up the fight. She feared to keep her guard, that guard that she had dropped for only a second just a few minutes earlier. This fear had always been an unexpected factor, something that used so much energy to be constantly covered up, hiding a sudden, shattering discovery of a reality that had always been there, refusing to ever look at it. He was so close, his arms all around her, his smell, his breath, his eyes, his soul...her heart didn't want to break the closeness. Mulder began to lead Scully in a slow, swaying step, their bare feet still inaudible against the heavy wood. All Mulder could hear was the steady lapping of the water along the lake's shore, the wind sending its whispered secrets into the trees, and the beating of his own heart roaring through his ears. Words were unnecessary. The perfect language was shining through his partner's eyes, being returned back through his own. She was slowly relaxing in his arms, their steps becoming hypnotic and dream-like. He could feel her body inch closer, cautious and asking, and he quickly responded by drawing her next him. His senses soared as her moon silvered hair rested comfortably beneath his chin, the fragrance of her deafening his sense of smell, the feel of her body pressed against his making his sense of touch melt into a pool of fire. He couldn't sort his thoughts, couldn't rationalize, couldn't deny, but instead, his heart had taken over. It was far more powerful than any other part of him, and it had begun living again, after so many years of keeping it subdued. His heart, his love, was undeniably in control, turned on by a switch only Scully was able to access. Scully was engulfed in Mulder's strong arms, her feet in harmony with his. She could feel the soft beat of his heart against her cheek, it's steady rhythm taking her to places she had only imagined. This had to be a dream, so many of them that had taken her to this point only to open her eyes to see a ceiling, a sweat- covered bed, and to realize that she was alone...so very alone. She moved her head back and lazily opened her eyes. Her partner was there, reflecting the moon as two tiny white spheres from the pupil of his eyes. Behind the white reflection was a depth of emotion that stole her breath, and their feet stopped. Mulder's hands moved deliberate and slow to frame Scully's shadowy, sliver face. His fingers gently tangled themselves in her hair, their gaze never breaking. He was looking down into an abyss, an abyss he had stepped up to before. He knew once he jumped he could never go back, and just as the time before, he had never been so sure about anything in his life. The storm of emotions raged through him as he faced her, his breath quick and shallow. He was very conscious of the touch of her arms as they moved behind his neck, each aware of the other's closeness. His mouth was dry by the overwhelming sense of what was to come, but the current flowing between them was unmistakable. His eyes continued to look at her steadily; the skin was smooth across her cheekbones, the curve of her lips softening everything. He felt a shiver of fire inside of him as his feelings ran deep, far deeper than he could ever find on his own. His hands tightened their grip, not wanting what was between them to slip away, ever. Suddenly his head was in motion, his lips aching to touch the soul only his eyes had previously been allowed to see. He was hurtling through space toward his partner of six years, who occupied a place in time in his very being, the residue of another life already implanted upon his character, she was a part of him that would last forever. The earth and heavens held their breath as the two souls on the dock were about to mark the end of a chapter of life and ready to open a new one as cleanly as a cut with a scalpel. Scully was buffeted by conflicting emotions, but she was magnetized by the forces deep inside, acutely listening to the secrets projected by her partner, her companion. She leaned forward toward his advances, the answers seeming so clear and raw. Their lips were now only centimeters apart, both of them pausing once more to give each other one last confirmation. The hesitation was almost unbearable, their anxious breaths showering against each other, warm and moist against each other's skin. Scully closed her eyes slowly as she moved toward her partner, the heat of his face radiating against her own. He was so close to her, her heart pounding in every section of her body. It was only a matter of seconds. Warmth descended upon her lips, a light brush of flesh, so innocent yet intimate, revealing an entry into the darkest shadows of the soul, the echo of a contained silence screaming to be heard. Yet the touch she only began to know suddenly disappeared, leaving her wanting it to return, confused at the sudden disruption. "Henry! Kate! I've been looking all over for you!" Mulder had pulled back, startled by the voice that shattered the mountain silence, both of their bodies frozen in time, dazed by the broken spell. "I just, ah," Gil slowed down as he approached the dock, obviously noticing what he had interrupted, "...um, I, uh, just got a page. They found Beth about twenty miles from here--over at Skyland Mountain. Come on, I'll drive!" X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ------------------------------- 9:34 PM GIL'S TRUCK DESTINATION: SKYLAND MOUNTAIN ------------------------------- Relentless red-to-amber-to-blue car lights reflected on the asphalt surface of the road as a police car rushed by. Tiny drops of rain were spattering against the windshield while Gil switched the wipers up a notch, the tires making a soft swishing sound as they traveled across the wet terrain. The narrow beams of light from the old Chevy stretched out a narrow path ahead of them, illuminating only segments of wet asphalt, making it gleam like fresh varnish. The pitch black forest around them threatened to leave the tiny, amber beams crushed and annihilated in its vastness. Gil, Mulder, and Scully were piled into the Chevy's unaccommodating bench seat, in that order, and the silence was far thicker than the infinite expanse of blackness outside. Mulder searched the oblique night with his eyes, the moldy, damp smell from Gil's truck irritating his nostrils. The truck's dash was sun-cracked like an empty river basin, one mat on Scully's side was missing, not that it mattered much to the scrap of carpeting on the floor. His senses were still scorched from the interrupted moment between him and his partner, now a moment that was twenty minutes behind him. His hands curled into a ball at the thought, palms damp with sweat; his thoughts were anxious, full of questions, laced with a heightened sense of aliveness. For all of the rationalizing and analyzing his work had fine-tuned in him, he was at a loss of words when it came to explaining how he had just kissed Dana Scully. Of course, he wasn't sure if it really could be considered a kiss since he barely touched her, but the intent was there, and she had followed through on her end. She had been a magnetizing force that had finally conquered his last barrier, but now sitting in the truck, his senses back under control, he could only ask himself how could he have been so foolish to jeopardize the relationship he had with his partner. He desperately wanted confirmation from Scully that everything was alright, reviewing the last twenty minutes over in his mind once again. They had been startled on the dock, feeling like a pair of adolescents being caught making-out by their parents. What was worse that it had began raining, a barely imperceptible drizzle from the clouds above, their hair and clothes damp as they had mechanically grabbed their shoes and took off after Gil, professionalism giving them both a hard shake. It was easy to stare at Gil than at each other, and even easier to part ways to grab some dry clothes and the proper necessities they would need for the crime scene. It got harder when they met at Gil's truck, now both clad in long, dark coats to protect them from the rain threatening to intensify, Mulder catching his coattail on a hook as he climbed into the truck's cab, feeling Scully free it behind him as she worked her way in. Scully rubbed up against him, not on purpose, as she squeezed herself between the door and his body. For a moment it looked like she debated whether to grab his forearm, but instead she turned her head to the window, staring out into nothingness while Gil relayed the sketchy details he had received over the phone. Mulder refrained from letting out a sigh, stealing a glance toward Scully. She was heart-wrenchingly quiet, her enigmatic eyes never revealing what they were looking at or wanted to look at, what they were thinking or feeling. He knew Gil, over to his left, was feeling very much like a third wheel in the awkward moment, not knowing what to do except drive as fast as possible, looking as if he was concentrating on his driving and switching the groaning gears on the truck. Mulder grimaced as his thoughts turned to Gil. If it wasn't a bee, it was a bird lover from the Appalachians with a cockatoo named Mac. Not that the man had done it on purpose, but as Dorothy had said before, "Fate, Henry." So, he questioned, was this fate's oh so unsubtle way to tell him this was wrong, that every time he attempted to change the course of history, a divine intervention occurred to steer him back on track? If so, it was time he had a little talking to with the gods of fate. Most of all, Mulder's entire being yearned for the finish of that attempted kiss. He wanted to touch her soul, let her touch his, release the dark silence that caused so much misery and loneliness within his heart. Although she was about to return his kiss, he wondered if she felt the same, because if so, why had she never mentioned their first attempt? It was hard enough waiting a whole entire year after that moment, but this time he promised himself the kiss by the lake would not go forgotten. "Where could Lou be?" Gil muttered with a strained sigh into the thick silence, his knuckles white against the wheel. "That's what we're going to find out." Mulder answered calmly, "You said yourself that Beth was in critical condition, but she was conscious for a short period of time right before the paramedics arrived. I'm sure the police have been trying to ask her that very question." Gil made another audible sigh, his face white against his gray hair. "It's just not making sense, none of it! Lou has been a ranger here for five years, he knows his way around. Why would he not be with her..." "Lets not assume the worst, Mr. Hahn." Scully purposely cut in, never turning her face from the passenger window, but clearly understanding what was on the worried proprietor's mind. The truck fell silent. Rubber scraped against glass, the wipers whirring in a steady rhythm to toss the raindrops from the window, more rain drumming against the metal roof above their heads. The weak beams of light flashed by a road sign, a sign familiar to Mulder and Scully on a personal level: 'Ascend to the Stars. Skyland Mountain.' We should just buy a cabin and live up here, Mulder mused to himself with sarcasm. This would be their third trip to the mountain, this trip as equally unpleasant as the last two. The first time he had lost his partner to a psychotic and the unknown forces waiting at the top of the mountain, swinging for life from a ski gondola in a failed rescue attempt. The second, he and Scully had gone together, looking over a mass of brutally burned bodies. Not long after that he had thought he had lost Scully again. And now here came visit number three, to find a severely injured young woman, her hiking partner still missing. "We'll be up there in about ten minutes." Gil spoke again, his voice heavy, strange. Mulder acknowledged the comment with a slight nod, checking from the corner of his eye to see Scully resting her chin on one hand, making a perfect imitation of The Thinker. Damn, Mulder cursed to himself, was she even breathing?! This was Scully in her purest form, so patented with her protective shell there was no breaching it from any angle. It angered him that he couldn't prod her to open up, to try anything to break the silence. He knew she was terrified beyond recognition. So was he. In the history of time, Mulder was positive the next ten minutes were the slowest ever recorded. ------------------ 9:52 SKYLAND MOUNTAIN CRIME SCENE ------------------ The crime scene wasn't hard to miss. The Chevy pulled into a tangled web of police and ranger SUVs, blue, white, and red lights silently strobing across the heavy wet leaves and saturated pavement. The rain had subsided into a misting drizzle once more, and Scully clutched the rusted door handle next to her, ready to pounce on the scene as soon as Gil slowed the vehicle. Skyland wasn't as important to her as the young woman she had grown close to from the vivid writings of the journal. While she had given some thought, actually she was sick with confusion over it, to what had happened between her and Mulder back at Skyhigh, the urgency as a medical doctor, with a life waiting for her help, was keeping her focused and sharp for what was about to come. The wheels slowed, Scully's body coiled like a spring, hand on the coarse piece of metal that would free her from the truck's cab. She pulled it abruptly, exiting into a pool of rainwater, its wet coolness seeping into her socks, down between her toes. Her feet sloshed through the puddle, relentless, moving through the wildly parked police cars still rushing to the scene around her. She dodged a bumper, ignored a horn blowing immediately behind her as her legs pounded across the wet earth, determined, professional. She moved toward a group of police officers, droplets of water falling from the brims of their hats, flashlights illuminating white sheets of paper as pens slowly moved. She reached in her pocket, feeling the familiar piece of leather, moving it in slow-motion as she pulled her badge free, pushing it into the air with an unmistakable boastfulness. "Special Agent Dana Scully. FBI." Pens hung in mid-sentence as if the realism had been so sudden it had paralyzed gestures that had barely begun. The soft hush of water trickled onto the treetops, playing musical notes into the pools of dark water around them. "This is my crime scene, Miss." Spoke a gravel voice as its owner appeared. He was a man in his fifties, stomach shaped like a barrel, protruding over his belt. His jowls hung limply around his face, his tiny eyes growing into a horizontal line as he squinted at Scully's polished demeanor, wrinkles crosshatching at the corners. A movement of a flashlight across his uniform revealed a shiny silver star. "I don't remember anyone callin' the FBI out here." Scully wasn't phased, her piercing stare finally making the officer withdraw his attacks. "Sheriff Logan." He introduced, extending his hand. Scully kept her handshake brief, her impatience obvious, her concern unmistakable. Her chestnut hair was already frizzing in the light rain, drops beading on the shoulders of her jacket before whisking away down the sides. "I'm a medical doctor--I can assist in treating the victim if you'll please take me to her." "Already taken care of." Sheriff Logan answered contritely as if passing a dead husband's unpaid bills to an unsuspecting widow. "Mountain rescue has already brought in the chopper and evacuated her by air. She was in no condition to waste even a second, so some of the best doctors around these parts are workin' on her down at the University hospital in Charlottesville." Dammit, Scully muttered to herself, the bitter realization that their one big chance in solving the case and finding Lou just got moved 40 miles away. "She's been flown to a hospital already?" Boomed Mulder's voice from behind, gasping for breath as he and Gil caught up with Scully's quick getaway from the truck. He sheltered Scully with an umbrella he was carrying, his frame only inches behind hers. "Another fed? How many of 'em got called out here...ah..." "Mulder." The agent supplied quickly, throwing his badge into the light as Scully had done minutes earlier, ignoring the officer's remarks. "So what can you tell us, Sheriff?" Sheriff Logan looked irritated, as if Mulder and Scully were wasting his time. He took his own time grabbing for his notepad, scratching an armpit in the process. "Well," he began in his thick, southern drawl, runoff from the rain forming a tiny trickle off his hat as he looked down, "a ranger found her on Limberlost Trail, about a quarter of a mile from here. Stuck back under a sheltering shelf of rock, pretty safe really." Scully could feel Mulder's hand press to her damp shoulder, the warmth spreading across her skin. "But she must not have been there long--she was marked up pretty bad. Cuts, gashes, blow to the head. She was unconscious when we found her, but thankfully alive. After we got her on a backboard, she woke up a little. She didn't say anything, but she looked pretty scared. It was only a few minutes before she was out again, then the paramedics flew in, packed her up, and took her on." "Anything else, Sheriff? Maybe something unusual at the crime scene?" Mulder pursued. "Well, no, no funny business that we could see." "Sheriff!" Called a ranger, jogging up to the heavy man, a walkie talkie intermittently squawking in his hand. Sheriff Logan grunted as he turned to the call of his name, acknowledging the camouflage-brown ranger with an inquiring eyebrow. "The press had gotten wind that something's going on up here--they must have heard the call to Mountain Rescue. Right now they're lining up at the entrance stations. We've got the guards down there holding them off, but they're claiming their amendment rights to get up here. We can't hold 'em back much longer." Sheriff Logan nodded his square head grimly, a tired sigh escaping from his large frame. "Alright, Bob, tell 'em to let 'em on through." The ranger stopped short, giving the Sheriff a questioning glance. At the Sheriff's confirming nod, the ranger pressed the button on the walkie-talkie, sending through the message. "Alright, boys, listen up!" The sheriff yelled out, his voice gritty and raspy across the quiet mountaintop. "We've got twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes to clean this up before the press arrives! I want some of you to start headin' down there, and if you catch any of them speedin', write 'em up! And check their decals while you're at it!" As the sheriff continued with his commands, Mulder and Scully heard Gil's voice behind them, shocking them both with it's sudden high- pitched crack, a sound overwhelmed by anger. "What is the meaning of this?!" Scully spun around, her eyes darting from behind Mulder's black-clad frame to see a large utility truck pull up. Men were jumping from the back, rifles in hand, camouflage covering their bodies, blending them into the dark night. Hunters. "No rifles are allowed in the park!" Gil shouted with a sickened tone, racing toward the group of five men, his grey eyes ablaze with a sudden aplomb. "Is he with you?" Sheriff Logan asked distastefully, as if Gil's actions were the craziest thing he'd ever seen, the hunters now yelling "tree-hugger!" as Gil tried to block them off. "Sheriff, what is this about?!" Scully asked, spinning face-to-face with the pudgy man. She could smell cigarettes and coffee lingering on his breath. "The hunters are here from a direct order straight from Capitol Hill, approved by the NPS. It's over both our heads." Sheriff Logan explained, as he stroked his ill-shaven chin with one hand, tiredly pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket with the other. Gil raced back toward the sheriff, however mediocre he had been before, this threat to what he held dear had turned him into a driven man. His face contorted with a purpose Scully never imagined this man was even capable of. The precious animals of the park were clearly emblazoned in his eyes as he yanked the offered paper from the sheriff's hand with a crisp snap, anger adding years to his face. "You can't do this!" "Oh, did I mention, those marks on Beth," Sheriff Logan continued in his calm, pretentious manner, "were not made by a human." Mulder head snapped up from reading the paper with Gil. "What's the fastest way to get to Charlottesville from here?" The sheriff gave a hearty chuckle, taunting Mulder for asking such a question, belly jumping up and down. "You drive, Mr. Mulder. Like the rest of us." X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X ---------------------------------------- University Medical Center University of Virginia, Charlottesville 10:50 PM - SATURDAY ---------------------------------------- "Mulder, I have to tell you something." Mulder's heart seized in his chest at the words, a tingle of fear gripping him at the unknown subject Scully was about to address. Mulder had ended up driving the old Chevy down to Charlottesville, the entire twenty-five minutes had been silent inside the truck. Gil had stayed behind, refusing to leave the hunters alone. Scully was sure the wiry man would have chained himself to them if it was possible. She wasn't sure how that was going to turn out, but the sheriff's "don't worry, I'll take care of it" didn't sound very promising. Mulder was now weaving the dilapidated Chevy around the hospital parking lot, looking for the first available space to park. He would have gladly parked at the hospital curb, but when he equated Skinner's face with a parking ticket, he decided against it. Now he had to brace himself--was Scully going to mention what happened on the dock? "The book I was reading before the mixer was actually Beth's journal." Scully went on. The cramping in Mulder's stomach immediately let up. "She had an entry on the day they disappeared." Scully continued, still looking out the window and not over at Mulder. She explained how Beth and Lou had confronted the two men with the gun and how they had decided to go back into the woods as soon as they had the chance. "You got all of that from a journal entry?" Mulder asked in an incredulous tone. "It was eleven pages long--the girl knew how to write." "That just proves beyond a shadow of a doubt there's something big out there, and someone is trying to cover it up. Beth said two people saw strange lights on North Ridge? Sounds like we've got two witnesses we can question, not to mention that ranger that found Beth." Mulder added determinedly, bringing the truck to a halt in a tiny space, a car on Mulder's side parked over their line, making it difficult for Mulder to squeeze out. Their conversation ended abruptly as they wasted no time rushing inside, the sting of antiseptic and formaldehyde greeting their nostrils as their shoes clapped against the slick vinyl flooring. It was quiet in the hospital that evening, their ministrations causing eyes to look their way, irritated for the peace being disturbed. The environment was sterile and gray, a tired nurse at the front desk patiently awaiting for Mulder and Scully approach her. She stayed primly in her chair, a Styrofoam cup of steaming liquid clenched in one palm. "Can I help you?" "Where would they admit someone brought in by air rescue?" Scully asked crisply, shaking the rain from the folds of her long coat. "Try the Trauma Center--just follow the blue line." She answered mechanically, taking a small sip of her drink. "Thank you." Mulder spoke out of courtesy, already at Scully's heels, rushing by the front desk and the nurse. The hospital was a maze of hallways, the only saving grace being the painted colors of lines that led visitors to the correct destinations. It only took a few minutes to find the Trauma Center, a large nurse's station standing protectively in the front to ward off any unwanted visitors. "Special Agent Mulder with the FBI," Mulder introduced, flashing his badge, "and my partner Special Agent Scully. We're here to see Beth Andrews--she was brought in by air around an hour ago from Skyland. It's vital that we speak with her." An older nurse, facial expression stern and unyielding, stopped typing on the computer to give the two agents a once over with her eyes. "Beth's condition is extremely critical. We're doing everything we can, but the prognosis is not good. She can't take a lot of stress right now, so unless you're family, I can't let you in." Scully could feel Mulder's frustration level begin to rise. "Shirley," Scully pressed, reading the tag on the nurse's shirt, "I'm a medical doctor. I assure you we are extremely concerned about Beth's condition and will keep our questions to a minimum. A life depends on her knowledge, and as close as she was to this person, I don't doubt she is willing to help him any way she can." Shirley looked dubious, cocking her head to one side to ponder the decision she had to make, deep creases forming on her brow. "You're saying there's another one out there in the mountains?" "That's correct." Mulder jumped back in, feeling the nurse's steel wall giving way. "And we want him to come back alive as well--but only she knows where he is." The nurse nodded, her black curls bobbing from beneath her white hat. "If I let you see her, it's on my conditions." Scully raised an inquiring eyebrow. "I go with you, and you've got five minutes." The nurse continued, reaching over to pull a chart from a large pile of folders next to the computer. "I've contacted her family--they're coming here from Virginia Beach, but it will take them a few hours to drive. It's important they see her...just in case." She walked around the nurse's station, motioning for the two agents to follow her. She turned to hand Scully the folder. "You can see for yourself what she's been through. I'm warning you both, she's had a lot of work done to her, so prepare yourselves in advance." Scully flipped open the folder as she walked behind Mulder and the nurse, passing tiny cubicles of critically sick patients to her left, high-tech machines monitoring their every breath. Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she rapidly read, "Good lord, Beth is lucky to be alive at all, Mulder. She's suffered a subdural hematoma, atalectisis..." Mulder cleared his throat, giving his partner a questioning glance. "...which means a punctured left lung." Scully quickly supplied, her eyes moving back to the doctor's scrawl on the papers. "The hematoma seems to be the most serious problem she has, which is bleeding in the dural space of the brain. Depending on the severity, it can be deadly." "Well, that and the blood loss from her wounds. Some of them are more than four inches deep." Shirley supplied as she walked in front of the two agents. "We haven't been able to determine what caused them, but we did find some foreign fibers which we sent to the labs. By some miracle, she lucked out with only a perforation of her bladder. If that cut had been a couple inches higher it would have hit her liver, in which case, she wouldn't be here at all." Scully exchanged a horrified glance with Mulder, her eyes confirming that the rest of the file was just as brutal. How any human had survived such a traumatic, painful ordeal was beyond her comprehension. "When she first got here she was cyanotic," Shirley continued, rounding a corner. "Once we inserted the chest tube that brought a little color back to her. She received three blood transfusions, the OR doctors wanting to take her up for immediate emergency surgery. The Trauma doctor that took care of her, Dr. Koch, finally came to an agreement with them to wait. She would no doubt not be able to survive surgery. It's a terrible shame--she's one of the youngest patients we've ever had with this much complication." Mulder's mouth was unpleasantly dry after hearing the details from Scully and Shirley, his heart racing with pain and sympathy as the nurse stopped in front of one of the cubicles. The blinds were drawn shut across the window so no curious eyes could peer in. "But what amazed us the most was that she wasn't in a deep coma, as one would think with these conditions." Shirley continued in a soft whisper. "She was out cold when they brought her in, but she did open her eyes for about fifteen minutes before the morphine put her to sleep. She's had a blow to her larynx, but she does respond by blinking her eyes and trying to move her lips." "So you talked to her?" Mulder inquired, growing warmer by the second under his coat. "Just to ask if she understood where she was and we explained to her what we had done to help her." Shirley answered. "She may or may not wake up when we go in there, but I guess you two can give it a try. Beth is lucky to be alive." "Or unlucky." Mulder mumbled in a grave tone. "Thank you." Scully nodded, closing the folder and inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils. She walked in first, her eyes catching sight of the blurry silhouette of a human smothered in white blankets, resting calmly in a single bed. The dim glow from the hallway cast a narrow rectangle of pale light on the array of monitors positioned along one side of the bed. The radiators along the floor kept out the night's chill while rain pattered on the window. Scully stepped closer, holding down the sickened lump in her throat as a wave of mousy brown hair was askew across a white pillow. The hair immediately reminded her of the picture she had found with Beth's belongings, of the images that had been introduced into her mind from the beautiful words written from this young woman's very hand. Another step revealed Beth's face to Scully--a far cry from the face imprinted in her mind. Beth's skin was as white and lifeless as the nearby pillow, deep red cuts contrasting across her brow and cheeks, snaking around her neck. Medical tape and bandages zigzagged and crisscrossed around her hairline and into her hair, also disappearing under the carefully placed blankets. Scully's keen hearing immediately picked up the gurgling breath sounds emanating from Beth's chest and mouth, knowing only too well the familiarity of the sound. She had seen countless sick or injured victims, even autopsied more bodies than she could count, and yet it was heartbreaking to look at Beth, so innocent and young, being robbed of years with her family, of loving embraces, of disappointments and tears, of life. "Good God." Mulder whispered, "No one should have to endure such a nightmare. No imagination could come close to what she's been through." Scully acknowledged her partner with a grim glance, her teeth firmly gritted together as she pulled an edge of the blanket back, revealing a bare leg and foot. She moved to the long bandage on Beth's pasty white thigh, a jagged spot of red had already oozed to the surface. Scully gently removed it, Shirley turning to grab a fresh bandage. "Mulder...this gash is like nothing I've ever seen." Scully spoke with an incredulous tone, "It's at least a foot long, and by the looks of it, it certainly wasn't made by any kind of manmade object." "Still holding to the bear theory then?" Mulder asked seriously. "Well, by the width of it, it would have to be a mutant bear claw." Scully answered quickly, still studying the wound with precision. "No, no bear could do this...but *something* out there did." Mulder nodded, turning to Shirley who was waiting patiently for Scully to finish so she could redress the wound. The elderly nurse was keeping a watchful eye on both agents, her curiosity with their findings obvious. "You said they sent some evidence to the lab?" Mulder asked the woman. "When do you think they will have the results?" "Well, in cases like this, just a few hours." Shirley responded, taking Scully's cue to redress the wound. "With any kind of crime, we try to process any evidence we run across when a patient comes in." "Good." Scully stated with a sigh, moving toward the head of the bed to let Shirley work. "When they come back, please call us immediately. I'll leave my number with you before we go." "No problem." Shirley answered, holding up an empty spool of tape. "Shoot--I'm going to run over to the supply room--I'll be right back." Both agents nodded as Shirley stepped out of the room, immediately giving each other glances that spoke a thousand words. Scully reached underneath the blanket, threading her warm palm through Beth's cold, clammy hand. "Mulder, something dangerous is out in those woods, and you know as well as I do that it has nothing to do with...with..." "Those space critters?" Mulder supplied dryly, walking toward Scully and Beth, putting a hand on his partner's forearm. "Our only link to the truth of what did this is through Beth. Only she knows what really happened out there." "I know--I know..." Scully drifted, her voice full of anguish for the suffering Beth was enduring. She felt Mulder's sympathetic squeeze on her arm, the desire to step one foot closer into the comfort of his chest almost unbearable. She inwardly punished herself for the thought, wanting to stay strong and professional for Beth, to find the cause of this young woman's interminable pain. She felt the pressure once more, looking down to find Mulder had withdrawn his hand, but the feint, urgent grip continued against her palm. Beth was awake. "Mulder!" Scully hissed, her hand responding against Beth's, moving in closer to the pale face. Mulder was already in motion, moving close to Scully and noticing a quick flutter of eyelash from Beth's face. They patiently held their breaths, observing Beth endure the struggle to leave the unconscious world and return to the present. A tongue moved across cracked lips, the rattling in her lungs increased as her brown eyes opened and shut, fighting the drugs that were coursing through her body. Her pupils were large and distant as they strained to focus on the two faces looking down at her, once more grasping the hand that held hers. "Beth," Scully spoke with a soft whisper, noticing the girl's eyes had made a sudden, wide-open stare. It was a look of panic, of unfamiliarity, spurring Scully to quickly continue. She remembered Beth was extremely shy with strangers, so she had to make her best attempt to put Beth at ease. "My name is Dana, and this is my partner, Fox Mulder. We're from the FBI and have been investigating your disappearance from Skyhigh--trying to find you and your friend, Lou. You were found and brought to this hospital just a few hours ago, but if you can remember anything at all about where Lou might be it would be a big help in trying to locate him. Can you tell us what happened out there?" Beth's eyes dazedly darted from Scully to Mulder, eyeing them over meticulously. She quickly closed her eyes again, growing still. "Did she fall back to sleep?" Mulder asked, concern and weariness etched across his brow. "I don't know." Scully whispered quietly, "It looks like she closed her eyes--maybe she needs to rest a little." Mulder let out a long sigh, the trilling of his phone startling them both. He quickly reached in his coat pocket, giving Scully one last glance before stepping outside the room. "Hello?" Mulder asked quietly, the black object pressed against his right ear. "Henry?" came the elderly voice he had come to learn only too well. "Hello, Dorothy. Yes, it's me." "Oh good. I couldn't remember if this number was yours or Kate's, but thank goodness I guessed right." Dorothy's voice sounded distracted, Mulder noted, quickly asking, "So what's going on?" "It's not good, Henry." Floated Dorothy's concerned tone to his ear, "We're still over here at Skyhigh, keeping an eye on the party-goers for Gil. We think someone might have added some booze to the punch- -I've never seen so much staggering and throwing-up since the Bonanza food poisoning incident of '79." Mulder contained a tiny smile as Dorothy continued. "It's just a big mess, Henry. And to make matters worse we just got a call from Sheriff Logan. He said there was a big squabble between the hunters and Gil, and he was going to arrest him for disturbing the peace when Gil just bolted into the woods." "What?!" Mulder hissed into the phone. "It's too dangerous for him to be out there alone!" "We know that, Henry dear." Dorothy continued, her long sigh coming through the phone. "I'm working on sobering up George with some coffee and then we're going to take Mac up there. Knowing Gil, he hopefully hasn't gone too far, and seeing Mac will probably bring him back to his senses. He's so passionate for the animals up here, Henry, but his doings are going to get him hurt this time. What if he gets mistaken for an animal? Those hunters are notorious for having their 'accidents.'" "You're right." Mulder agreed gravely, "And the hunters are only half his worries." "What do you mean?" Dorothy asked suspiciously, realizing Mulder knew more than he was saying. "I don't know yet--that's what we're trying to figure out." "Well when you do, call me back. This phone should stay in range for a while, depending on how far we hike into the woods looking for Gil. I need to know--for Gil's sake." "I understand. Thanks for calling, Dorothy." "Hey, the more backup the better...oh no...George, get those people off the roof..." Dorothy was yelling as the other end of the phone suddenly went dead. "Who was that?" Scully asked absentmindedly as Mulder returned, watching him stuff the phone back in his coat pocket. "The latest update with Gil. Dorothy said he..." Scully visibly startled which broke off Mulder's train of thought. A sudden, cold grip had overpowered Scully's hand, her eyes connecting to the brown depths of Beth's eyes, two clear, burning spheres begging for communication, to be heard. "Beth?" Scully whispered softly, leaning her ear close to the girl's ashen lips. She held her eyes steady with Beth's, feeling an instant connection spring between them, reading the sheer terror and pain as if it were her own. Beth's eyes flickered toward Mulder once again, desperately wanting Scully to understand her silent message. "What...Mulder?" Scully asked in a tender tone, making a glance to her partner and back to Beth, the wheels spinning in her mind. She glanced between them again, catching a luminous clarity in Beth's eyes that not even the morphine could restrain. "Dorothy and Gil? Is that it?" An elated response from Beth's eyes prompted Scully to continue. "Yes, we're friends with Dorothy and Gil. It's okay to trust us, Beth," Scully added genuinely "I promise. We want to find Lou and get him out of those woods and away from whatever hurt you out there. I know you've had a hard blow to your head, but are you able to remember anything that happened out there? Where Lou might be?" Beth's opposite arm, which was scratched, punctured, and attached to an IV tube feebly moved across the white blanket, only three fingers moving as she worked to scratch away the covers. Scully quickly scrambled to lift the covers for her, Beth continuing to scratch at her hospital gown, dried red patches covering the garment. "I-I'm not sure I understand," Scully mumbled, glancing at Mulder for help. "Um, something about your gown?" Mulder supplied, uncertain. Beth had crumpled a handful of gown into her wobbling hand, pulling at it frantically. "Clothes?" Mulder continued, getting an excited response from Beth. "That's it, Mulder, she wants her clothes." Scully hissed, feeling a quick, confirmation from Beth's hand. Mulder was already a man on a mission, jumping to the tiny two- drawer dresser behind the IV monitor and scrambling through the contents. He pulled out a plastic bag and untied the knot at the top to peer inside. "Got 'em." He placed them on the bed next to Beth's hand, the clothes were damp and black from dirt, soiling the white sheets with gray smears. They looked more like scraps of cloth than something a person could wear, more than likely being cut off of Beth's body by the Trauma Center doctors. Mulder was sure Shirley would have their butts in a sling when she found the dirty mess on Beth's bed. Beth's fingers worked carefully at a piece of jeans, the strangled, watery sound in her lungs growing harder and stronger than before. Her chest worked twice as hard to grab oxygen, even with the extra oxygen flowing through her nose. Scully glanced at the monitors, taking note of the numbers before quickly adding, "Beth, take it easy, there's no rush. Sit back and rest a moment." Beth's eyes pooled with tiny, clear tears, her hand pulling out a dirty, torn piece of cloth, no bigger than a tag on a shirt. Her hand only raised a couple inches from her body, offering this item to them with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Mulder gently took the cloth from her hand, watching the tired arm fall limply back onto the bed. "Mulder?" Scully asked in a warning tone, the seriousness of her voice making him look up at lightning speed. Beth had fallen back against her pillow, her chest heaving for breath, the lines on the monitors jumping wildly. "Get Shirley and the doctors--now!" The cloth still clutched tightly in his hand, Mulder made a mad scramble out the room, his shoes leaving scuff marks against the floor from the pressure of his weight. Scully had already hit the button that connected to the nurse's station, but she was sure someone had already seen Beth's monitor readings and was heading toward the room that very second. Scully grabbed Beth's hand tighter, holding her hand up so her forearm was touching against Beth's, the other hand checking over Beth to see how she could help. To her dismay, it wasn't one thing affecting Beth, but her wounded, tired body was simply giving out, ending the hopeless fight. "Hang on, Beth. It's going to be okay." Scully tried to comfort the young girl, her own voice betraying what they both already knew. She looked into Beth's face, tears burning hot from the corners of her eyes as she stared at Beth's wide brown eyes, at a heartbreaking beauty, purity. Beth made a frantic grab on Scully's hand, focusing Scully's eyes on her own, conveying her last message, the most important thought in her entire being. Scully's heart stilled with shock, a gasp catching in her throat as she recognized the message, almost unbearable in its intensity. Scully realized that might as well have been her in that bed, taking with her unshared secrets and a regret that would last eternity, a shadow as black as night that would exist as long as time itself. Silence. "When I find Lou, I'll tell him." Scully garbled, rounded tears falling from her cheeks, "I'll tell him." Beth's hand slowly became limp against Scully's, one last sigh escaping her battered lips before silence engulfed the room. Scully didn't hear the monitors wildly beeping or the multiple footfalls pounding through the room. She numbly moved backwards as hands pushed her out of the way, finally one hand landing on her upper arm, the grip faintly familiar. She was being led from the room, a group of white coats and uniforms lined up around the tiny single bed, her vision cut away from Beth's still form. The hallway was a blur of gray and white, more uniformed nurses running by and into the room. Scully bitterly thought about Beth's last image of this world, taking with her an intravenous drip hanging over her head, of a stranger who she had no choice but to share her innermost secrets with instead of with the person she wanted to know most of all. Sure, she was a medical doctor and an FBI agent, she told herself, death was all around her. And yet, this had hit close to home in many more ways than she could fully comprehend. It should have been her in that bed because she wasn't really living at all, but hiding behind the darkness within her, not giving what she could give, not loving like her heart was capable of. Her face contorted in anguish at the last thought, her hands automatically reaching behind her to the tall, dark form waiting against the wall. She was surrounded by warmth as Mulder embraced her in a tight hug, squeezing her tenderly as his chin rested against her hair. "I'm so sorry, Scully, I never realized how close you had become to her." Mulder whispered hoarsely into her ear. "I'm sorry, folks, but Beth has slipped away." An older doctor spoke as he walked out of the room, his nameplate telling them this was Dr. Koch. "We did everything we could." Mulder and Scully nodded, separating from their embrace as the doctor walked on with a sullen expression across his face. Scully looked back into the room, seeing the nurses turning off the monitors, pulling the sheet, half covered with dirt from the clothes, across the still form in the bed. Beth's life had only just begun, Scully thought, the young girl finally finding one special person to break her shell, to show her that life had been worth living in. But most importantly, Scully knew, Beth didn't take that one chance to tell Lou the truth, to love, and neither had he. Dreams turned to ashes. ----------------------------------------------- 11:59 PM - SATURDAY OUTSIDE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA MEDICAL CENTER CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA ------------------------------------------------ "What is it?" Mulder had pulled the scrap of cloth from his coat pocket as he stood underneath the hospital awning, Scully huddled close to him while the rain swirled and whipped around the tiny shelter in front of the hospital entrance. The rain had stopped them from running out to Gil's truck, giving them a moment to remember the item Beth had handed them in her last gesture. Mulder carefully unfolded the delicate scrap of material, his eyes squinting at the red scrawl covered with dirt, trying to make out its message. "It looks like some sort of...number?" Scully pulled his hand close to her face, her eyes straining to decipher the hieroglyphics across the cloth. "It's blood." "I noticed that." Mulder added absentmindedly, holding the cloth against the white light of the hospital's sign. "Wait...I see it." Scully insisted, finally taking the cloth from Mulder's hand. "It's CPH-941006577-T." "Yeah, now there's a smoking gun." "I doubt it's even a warm gun." Scully added disappointedly. "What on earth are we supposed to do with a number? It could literally be anything." Mulder could hear the upset in Scully's voice, her face turning dark before his eyes as she leaned back against the wall, pulling her long coat tighter around her body. He knew his partner was thinking they had hit a dead end yet once again, and she was clearly upset by what had taken place in the hospital. He had some fast decisions to make, quickly grabbing into the folds of his coat and pulling out his cell phone. He was the one who had talked her into investigating this case, and he was going to make it right no matter what. "What are you doing? Who are you calling?" "Beth gave us this as the most important thing to her. It has to mean something--it's a link. It's got to be." Mulder went on as he pressed the speed-dial on his phone, pressing it against his ear while he covered his other ear with his hand, enabling himself to hear over the rain. He could hear Scully let out a frustrated sigh as an answering machine switched on in his ear, impatiently waiting for the beep. "Okay, guys, it's me, pick it up." There was a moment of clicking and shuffling before Frohike's voice boomed through the earpiece. "Hey, big guy, how's it hanging out there in the wilderness? Did the lovely Agent Scully wear that 'Virginia is for Lovers' shirt I picked out? I bet she looked smashing." Mulder made a guilty glance out of the corner of his eye toward his partner, who was looking out into the rain, before continuing. "I will talk to you about that later." "Oh come on, man, you're holding out on me." "Listen, Frohike..." "Hey, don't use my name--what the hell's wrong with you?" Mulder made a face before restating his question. "I need a favor...where are the other guys?" "We're about to make technological history." Frohike spoke in an excited hush. "Are you sure this a secure line?" "As far as I know." It sounded like Frohike had taken a moment to think it over, his voice muffling into the background when a "The CSM-twenty-five countermeasure filter is crap, try that new CGB-forty-nine" called back to him. Mulder starting tapping his foot, daring not to look at his partner as he waited, listening to his stubby, paranoid friend shuffling items on a desk, his voice coming back in an excited rush, "We're working to be the first people on record to immerse a functioning computer into a vat of supercooled laxative. Pretty cool, isn't it?" "Sorry I asked." Mulder mumbled under his breath. "We've removed all the innards from our old Intel Celeron, but we left the motherboard still wired to the hard drive, monitor, and power supply and stuck it in a container of mineral oil...you know the kind--the edible stuff used in food processing and enemas." Mulder opened his mouth to cut Frohike off, but he was too late. "Nine inches of mineral oil. Then we took a rack of coolant coils out of a window air conditioner and put them across the top, using a garden-fountain pump to..." "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Listen, you guys can tell me all about that later." Mulder practically yelled, receiving an estranged look from Scully. "Look, I'm calling because we need a favor." "Mi casa es su casa. Whatcha' got?" "It's a number." "What kind of number?" "That's the favor." "That's all you got?" Frohike asked increduosly, "That's like finding a needle on an elephant's..." "It's really important--lives are depending on it." Mulder insisted, "Got a pen handy?" "See how good we are to you, Mulder, your ideas are weirder than ours, but we still help you out." Frohike mumbled on, papers shuffling and drawers opening in the background. "I don't know, I think that laxative thing wins hands-down." "Alright, buddy, shoot." Frohike answered, ignoring Mulder's last comment. Mulder relayed the number to him. "And if you find out anything at all, call me back immediately." "Well, we'll run it through some databases, but there's no guarantees." Frohike sighed. "Thanks--that would be a big help." Mulder finished, turning off the phone with a press of a button. "Well?" Scully asked, a hint of skepticism in her voice. Mulder shrugged. "It's better than nothing." "Now what? We wait for Frohike, Byers, and Langly to drop a golden nugget in our lap?" Mulder made his best effort not to grimace at her apparent irritation, knowing that what had happened in the hospital went far below the surface, the depths beyond a mystery. He scolded himself for choosing the articles over the journal--he was convinced his partner had unknowingly formed a bond with the young girl from reading the passages. As he looked into Scully's melancholy face, tracing the shadows creasing her forehead and around her mouth with his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to be her shoulder to lean on. He could only imagine how much Beth's death was ripping her apart inside, and yet, she always had to be so stoic, so strong in front of him. It infuriated him as much as it saddened him, and now looking over at her small form against the stone wall of the hospital, she looked so shaken, so tiny, so lost. "Mr. Mulder!" A shout echoed from the automatic doors, a white-clad nurse briskly walking outside with a folder in her hands. Both agents quickly stood taller, moving to meet Shirley halfway. "Thank goodness--I was hoping to catch you before you left. You remember those lab tests I mentioned? We just got the results back, so I figured you'd probably be more interested in looking at them in person than listening to me on the phone." Shirley huffed, attempting to catch her breath after her race through the hospital corridors. Tiny beads of sweat had already appeared along her neck and brow, the back of her forearm taking a wipe across her temples. "Yes, this is great, Shirley, thank you." Scully spoke politely, receiving the folder from the nurse's outstretched hand. "Glad to help." Shirley spoke genuinely, "I don't want what happened tonight to happen twice. Maybe this will help you find that other poor boy out there." Mulder and Scully both nodded in unison. "The local PD have already called and are trying to get their hands on it. They claim that this has now turned into a murder case, so they're already on their way. If you'd leave this at the front desk before you leave, you'll make my job a whole lot easier." "Will do." Mulder called politely as Shirley turned to head back. "Thanks again." Scully waited until the automatic doors closed behind the white form. "That was nice of her." Mulder nodded in agreement, peering from the manila to Scully's thin frame. She was looking even more tired than usual, but he equated that with her intake of a plate of fruit for breakfast and an apple Dorothy had brought for lunch. Not even a bird could live on that for long, Mulder decided, quickly taking the line back in the fear he was starting to think like the campers at Skyhigh. They had been working on the case since six o'clock the previous morning, and while he didn't understand Scully's need to eat so light, he wasn't going to let her get by with it if he could help it. "So...hungry?" Scully sighed. "Not really." "Coffee?" "Yeah, that would be good...caffeine and all." "You're on." Mulder smiled down at his partner, pressing his hand firmly against the small of her back as they made their way out of the bitter, angry night and back into the hospital. Mulder decided he would get Scully to eat something, whether she wanted to or not. He had his ways. ---------------------------------------- 12:14 AM - SUNDAY UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA MEDICAL CENTER CAFETERIA ---------------------------------------- "Hey, Scully, check this out." Mulder spoke with exuberance, slapping down a tray full of food on the table. "Two-for-one special on the cinnamon buns, so I picked up one for you too." Scully, sitting at a tiny, round table that wobbled every time she rested her elbow on the edge, tapped the top of the cinnamon bun with her index finger, creating a dull thumping sound. "I don't remember seeing a sign advertising that...and what are these made out of, anyway? Lead?" Mulder beamed inwardly. Scully cracking a few sarcastic remarks felt like a million symphonies to his ears. "Well, if that's not to your liking, they also had a two-for-one on the chicken salad sandwiches." "And I suppose they had a two-for-one on those slices of sweet potato pie as well?" Scully continued with a mocking eyebrow toward two dark orange slices, deciding to reach for one of the sandwiches. "Nah, they overcharged me on those to make up for the other two-for- ones." Scully's teeth sunk into the sandwich, hiding a tiny, hard-won smile elicited by her partner. She knew exactly what he was doing, although she didn't let on that she did for the simple reason that she appreciated his concern. And for the fact that the minute her taste buds came in contact with the sandwich, she realized how hungry she actually was. The earlier events had showed her a bitter reality she couldn't hide from any longer, leaving her feeling conquered, worn down. She couldn't believe she had taken so much time playing a game with chance, selfishly taking time for granted. She and her partner had squeezed through countless dangers by the skin of their teeth--what if one of those times one of them didn't make it? Just like Beth? How would she have felt then, she asked herself. But she already knew. There was nothing she would have regretted more than not telling him how much she cared for Mulder, loved him. Of course, if telling him was such an easy task, she would have told him years ago. She looked up to observe her partner wolfing down the other sandwich, the muscles working in his jaw, face heavily lined with tired shadows. Behind him she looked at the dimly lit cafeteria, yellow, rounded lights barely illuminating the tables, red and blue neon signs hanging above the foods advertising 'salads' or 'hot soup.' A lone man in teal green scrubs was eating hungrily in the corner, a woman and child sipping on bottles of juice near the back. It was quiet, peaceful, Scully turning her attention back to the open folder on the table, the last bite of sandwich disappearing into her mouth. "So, what do we have?" Mulder questioned, pleased to see Scully's sandwich had vanished without a trace. "Well, so far everything's in order--bloodwork, tox screen--they gave her a full work-up." Scully answered as she flipped through the pages. "Her white blood count was way down, but under the circumstances and her condition, it's understandable." Mulder nodded, diving into a slice of pie. "Here we go," Scully continued, pausing as a page toward the end caught her eye. "'Foreign material swabbed from lower right leg wound, results clarifying a scaly substance, more than likely animal.'" "The mutant bear with wings?" Mulder scoffed. "With scales?" Scully purposely ignored the comment as she read on, paraphrasing as her eyes skimmed across the document. "The examiner concludes that the cause of her initial injuries are unknown, but it's very possible that after she was wounded, an animal may have picked up her scent and tried attacking her." "Doesn't that seem a little vague to you, Scully?" "Well, he also states that the cause her wounds are unidentifiable and too large to be from any animal living in the Virginia forest." "So he concludes it was an animal but not an animal?" Mulder scoffed. "His credentials state he's a specialist in wildlife accidents." "So he's one of the few people that watch 'When Animals Attack' on the Fox Network." Mulder went on. "Why not put two and two together?" Scully flopped the folder against the table. "What--you're changing your theory now? No space aliens and flying saucers?" They received estranged looks across the cafeteria at Scully's last words, quickly lowering their voices. "I didn't say that." Mulder whispered, his mouth still full of pie. "You're saying this guy thinks it wasn't an animal from around here, so maybe it's not something around here, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist, or that it's not out there right now." "Mulder, we've established that there's at least *something* out of the ordinary out there in the woods, but I'd like to know what it is. We still have one lost person out there, you know." Mulder nodded, turning to a cinnamon bun as his phone started to ring. He scrambled in his pocket, moving it up to his ear. "Yeah?" "It must be your birthday, Mulder." Frohike chuckled, two more voices tittering in the background behind him. "Either that or you're just one lucky bastard." Mulder snorted. "Are you going to tell me why I'm so lucky or do I have to change who gets my collection in my will?" He could see Scully give him a dirty look out of the corner of his eye. "Lets not do anything rash." Frohike jumped in at lightning speed. "We ran that number of yours through some databases for about ten minutes before some matches popped up. Total luck I might add. It's pretty strange, big guy, we can't make heads or tails out of it." "Well, lets hear it." Mulder prodded, hearing a loud crash and a simultaneous 'oops' during Frohike's pause. "Oh no, there goes the laxative." "Frohike?" "Hey, come on, you know the rules about using my name on the line." Frohike continued, irritated, the tapping of a keyboard coming through the phone. "Are you ready?" "I've been ready." Mulder sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Looks like you're in the right neck of the woods. One piece of data has a location here--Strughold Mining Company, West Virginia." Mulder perked up at the name. "We went there years ago. It's been abandoned." "Well not according to this." Frohike continued, "We looked up some extra info on it. Just a year ago they bought almost 200,000 acres of forest around the perimeter, fenced it off, and now it's private property and off limits to the public. A no-fly zone to boot. It gets better...oh wait, Byers found this part so he wants to tell you." "Why can't you guys just use the speaker phone?" "Uh...that didn't make the laxative technological history...here's Byers!" The phone crackled and shuffled as Byers' smooth, higher voice filtered through the phone. "Okay, get this, Mulder, this piece of land is owned by none other than the government itself." "Why am I not surprised?" Mulder mused, watching the plate with his cinnamon bun slipping from his side of the table over to his partner. He tried to hide a smile as Byers continued. "At first it looked like they purchased the land, but we can't find any evidence of money changing hands." Mulder opened his mouth to speak, but Langly's raspy voice cut Byers off, "Hey, I get to tell him the last part." "Langly!" Frohike was yelling, "You're tracking laxative across the floor!" "I am not." Came Langly's response as the phone clucked and shook. "Well, I'm not cleaning that up." Frohike was going on. "Whatever." Langly responded, his voice closing in to the mouthpiece. "Alright, Mulder, here's the weirdest part of all. I've got a file here, most of it blacked out, but it's on CPH- 941006577-T, or as this calls it, 'Charlie-T.'" "Charlie-T?" "Yes, we've got some sort of document here on the number. While it is totally blacked out, they obviously forgot to do it to this last line at the bottom. The document was modified recently, so we just got lucky before they came back to erase it. It says 'status: missing.' Is my kung-fu the best or what?" Langley seemed very smug as he finished. "So Charlie-T from the Strughold Mining Company is missing?" Mulder spoke out loud, seeing Scully's eyebrows furrow at the mention. "What? He didn't like the company's HMO plan?" "We just relay the info." Langley stated casually. "Looks like you're on to something big--we can interview you on it for the paper when you get back. Are you down with that?" "Uh, yeah, sure...okay, thanks guys." Mulder answered absentmindedly as he hung up the phone. "Well?" Scully asked with intense curiosity. Mulder was quiet as the wheels turned in his head, finally mumbling to himself, "Why would they need all of that land?" Scully knew her partner only too well to know his sharp mind was churning information, formulating and rationalizing ideas. She watched him with wonder as he suddenly jumped up from the table. "Come on, Scully, we're going to go find Charlie-T!" "Charlie what?" She asked as she was practically dragged to her feet, her cinnamon bun ripped from her hand. "There's no time to waste--I'll fill you in in the car." Mulder spoke excitedly, practically running out of the cafeteria, Scully at his heels. ------------------------- 1:50 AM - SUNDAY SKYLAND MOUNTAIN SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK ------------------------- "Mulder, where are the night vision goggles?" "I, ah, must have left them in the cabin." "But I told you specifically to bring them." "I didn't see them. Maybe we never brought them in the first place, Scully." "That's impossible--I packed them myself." Mulder made a guilty face, thankful for the thick darkness that hid his face from view. They had driven back from the Charlottesville hospital to Skyhigh, picking up their hiker's packs before heading out to Skyland. He had filled Scully in on the Lone Gunmen's information, explaining how he wanted to take a look at the area Beth had been found at, not trusting Sheriff Logan and the gang more than he could throw them. The Sheriff's "no funny business" hadn't sounded very concrete. And of course, now Dorothy, George, and Gil were out there with the hunters, not to mention 'Charlie-T.' "Do you have the map?" Scully questioned, locking the car door as she swung her backpack around her shoulders, the folds of her coat bunching around the straps. "Sure do--we head straight from here onto Limberlost Trail." "I don't like any trail in the woods with the word 'lost' in it's name." Scully commented, clicking on her flashlight, the shaft of light penetrating through the black spaces of the night. Raindrops glittered like shooting stars, the clouds overhead cocooning them into their own mountainous world, the sounds of pattering against leaves all around them. Scully breathed the smell of wet earth into her lungs, feeling the misting waters from the heavens tickling her forehead with tiny, cold touches. "Indian Guide says an umbrella is just going to slow us down." Mulder attempted to make light of the situation, giving a black umbrella a toss into the driver's seat, the door making a clatter as it was shut and locked. "It's just a drizzle anyway; it'll probably stop soon." For some reason, Scully felt less than convinced. She refrained from emitting a sigh, following close behind her partner as he headed north down a muddy, slick trail. Lower limbs of pine brushed against her shoulders in the darkness, feeling the tiny needles breaching through the cloth of her coat, giving her skin a sting as if it had just received a series of tiny shots. The moonless forest was darker than she had been expecting, unable to see a foot in front of her face, the flashlight in her hand the only item allowing her to keep moving. Rain or shine, night or day, Scully mused, made no difference to her partner once an idea clicked in his mind. The facts Mulder had filled her in with in the truck were intriguing, but at the same time, she could feel the wear and tear of being awake for nearly twenty hours lingering in her muscles, a pain gnawing at her right behind her eyes. "We'll go to the Strughold Company first thing in the morning." Mulder was chatting as his dim flashlight beam landed on a huge boulder sitting in the middle of the trail. He continued as he moved around it, making a quick glance back at his partner. "See what they're hiding over there." "I thought it was fenced off." "That's a problem?" Scully remained silent, her thoughts much more interested in getting some rest than scaling fences with her partner. She decided she would try talking him out of it later, at the moment her thoughts concentrating on the mud leaking into the tops of her hiking boots, the ice-cold thickness working their way through her socks. Her ears were attuned to Mulder's footfalls stomping through the steep and tangled forest floor, occasionally flipping her flashlight beam toward his frame to make sure she wasn't lagging behind. She noticed they weren't moving through the wet darkness very quickly, the trail turning thicker and deeper with sludge the more they traveled. At the bottoms of steep slopes, it was even worse, the runoff of water and mud gathering into tiny pools, some nearly knee-deep. Thick raindrops that had pooled on the sagging leaves above them landed squarely on their heads, saturated branches clawing at their sides no matter which way they turned. "Uh-oh, look at this, Scully." Mulder finally spoke after almost ten minutes of hiking. Scully moved up next to Mulder's form, looking up to see beads of water cascading down the folds of his coat, his hair plastered flat against his scalp. Their flashlights illuminated a fork in the trail, one path leading to the left, one to the right. "What now?" Scully asked, not even attempting to keep her irritation from accompanying her voice. Mulder was fiddling with the map, huge drops of rain spattering across it as he exposed it from his pocket. "Well, er...this map doesn't show any fork in the trail." "What do you mean there's no fork? We're standing right in front of it!" Scully replied testily, whipping the map from his hands, her eyes searching frantically over the curvy green lines. "It's so dark we must have unknowingly left Limberlost onto another trail." Mulder calmly equated, whipping his flashlight in a circle around them, inspecting the area. "All we have to do is backtrack and look carefully for another intersecting trail--I'm sure that will be Limberlost." "You're 'sure' that will be Limberlost?" Scully ranted. "Mulder, it's two in the morning, it's raining, and you're lucky that it's so dark you have half a chance of escaping from here before I can catch you." Mulder made a grim face in the darkness at his partner's wrath. "And of all the things you had to leave behind, even though we're carrying a good twenty pounds of equipment on our backs, is the one thing we need the most. Dammit, Mulder, why couldn't you remember the night vision goggles?! You're this *Indian Guide* who has now gotten us lost out in the middle of nowhere with some kind of Charlie-alien creature nonsense with..." A loud crack broke the night stillness. "Scully, get down!" Mulder immediately hissed, grabbing Scully's shoulders and pushing her down toward the muddy ground, interrupting her speech. It was unmistakably the sound of a rifle, the crackle of the sound slowly rolling across the woods until it faded away. The rain continued its pattering against the leaves, the forest still. "The hunters?" Scully breathed, Mulder's arms still protectively around her shoulders, the warmth of his face only a breath away from her own. "I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being mistaken for a deer tonight." "I should have kept my vow to myself to never go out in the woods at night again." Scully mumbled to herself as one more shot rocketed through the forest. Both of them waited for several minutes, their hearts pounding as they stayed in a crouched position near the forest floor. "What do you think they were shooting at?" Scully asked. "I don't know, but whatever it was, it can't be good." Mulder answered grimly. "It sounded like it was about a mile or so away, maybe closer, but it's really hard to tell." Scully's eyes glanced down at the large, warm hand on her shoulder, the strong grip sending a message of concern and protection through her tired bones. She felt the impulse to lay her own hand of top of his, to communicate back her thanks, her own feelings of caring, and yet, she stopped herself. He had moved back to his feet, giving her a helping lift under her armpit, switching his flashlight back on. She could see the shadow of his face in the dull, yellow light, their bodies becoming separate once again from the liquefying black of the night. "Looks like it's time for plan B." Mulder sighed, scratching with frustration through his wet hair, creating a standing row of wet spikes on his scalp. "You're right, Scully, it was wrong of me to ever bring you out here and endanger you like this. I've taken you on so many of my goose chases just like this one that I'm surprised you've been able to stay with me and the X-Files for six years. You should have left me a long time ago--you could have been the head of the Bureau by now." Scully's jaw dropped in the darkness, mud smearing on her coat as she wiped her hands across the folds. "No, Mulder, I'm here because I choose to be." She spoke up with a flare of anger and hurt. "That's how it's always been. It's what I've told you before, if I quit now, how many lives would be lost? Who would be out in these woods at two in the morning trying to save Lou if you or I weren't here? Gil maybe, but he more than likely needs rescuing himself. There would be no one, Mulder, and that's why I'm out here. They won't win, Mulder, not if I can help it." Mulder was silent, a strong gust of wind rippling through the wet trees, encircling them. He moved his flashlight closer to his face, the beam making an illuminating arc along his chin, finally speaking. "I traded them for information." "Traded what?" Scully asked in confused tone. "The night-vision goggles. I, ah, had to make a trade for some sensitive information." "What sensitive information?" Mulder could hear the irritation rising in his partner's voice. He moved his flashlight over to her, making sure if she decided to make an attack, he would be ready. She was standing ankle-deep in the mud, strands of auburn hair darkened by rain, matted together behind her ears. Her ice-blue eyes could have been flashlights by themselves, blazing with curiosity as well as a knowing, skeptical look Mulder knew only too well. "Ah, you remember that listening device that Andrew found...well, turns out..." The hint of a smile broke across Scully's pale-pink lips, stopping Mulder's words. Seconds later a contained note of laughter escaped from her throat, "You gave a twelve-year old boy an $1000 piece of equipment? Oh, that's priceless, Mulder!" She hooted. "Well, I didn't think it was that funny..." Mulder tried to answer over Scully's amusement, his ears instantly memorizing every sweet note. He hadn't heard her laugh like that since...since...well, he wasn't quite sure. It had been a while, that he knew, but whatever had tickled her funny bone, it was better than being clobbered. "That's coming out of your check," Scully was going on, taking the soggy map from his hands. "But for now, the Indian Guide in our group has just been impeached. Follow me." "See, I told you I was always right when I'm driving." Mulder commented, turning to follow Scully's lead down the path they had just traveled. "And see, I'm not..." "Shut-up, Mulder." -------------------------------------- 2:36 AM - SUNDAY SOMEWHERE IN SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK -------------------------------------- "Scully, I swear we've passed this tree once before." "We have not, Mulder. This has got to be Limberlost--we've been going straight for the last twenty minutes." "You think we've been going straight, but as an Indian Guide, we learned that the woods can be deceiving--especially at night." "Oh, cut the Indian Guide crap." Mulder shut his mouth. While he may have had the privilege of a laughing Scully earlier, twenty minutes had done wonders for transforming his partner into a hideous beast. Of course, he admitted, he wasn't much better off. "The way I see it, at least I only got us a little lost. Now that you've been leading we've branched off onto so many different trails we're probably in Maine by now!" "Oh good, maybe Jack will be in town." Came the cool response ahead of him, not missing a beat. Bull's-eye, Mulder thought as he gritted his teeth, remembering the picture of Sheriff Bonsant he had pulled up on his computer. "There's this great place up there that serve the biggest lobsters I've ever seen. We couldn't even finish it all." Scully rambled on purposely. "Maybe if he tried eating more, he'd have more hair on his head." Mulder fumed, knowing Scully's abrupt halt would not have a good outcome. He could see Scully debating whether or not to pursue his last statement, but Mulder knew her sharp mind was already figuring out that he had taken the time to go investigate this "Jack" after their conversation in the office. Instead, she triumphantly began walking again, her coattail continuing to collect muddy clumps of earth from the trail, being led by the dim glow of her flashlight. Mulder knew walking endlessly in a wet, vast forest in the wee hours of the morning was obviously not a pleasant experience, and even more obviously, their nerves and patience were on edge. They had come out to Skyland to investigate the area where Beth had been found, which was simple in theory, but going on forty minutes of being wet, cold and tired, with no one else around, frustrations were coming out on each other. Of course, he would be lying if he had left out their sort-of kiss on the dock--it was definitely a playing factor in their irritation. At least if there was one positive about their banter, it was keeping them awake. "Scully, I swear that tree..." "Mulder," Scully cut off partner as she swiveled around to face him, "Here's an idea--you stay here with the tree and I'll keep going-- then we'll find out soon enough if we're going in the same direction." Suddenly the darkness engulfed them, their faces hidden from each other. "Aw, great, my batteries are dead." Mulder sighed, thankful for a distraction away from their throat-cutting. "You didn't replace the batteries before coming out here?" Or not, Mulder thought. "Here's an idea, Scully, why don't we turn on a video camera and shake it like crazy while we pay someone to hang sticks in the trees. Someone made millions on it last time." Disregarding the question, Scully turned away, her voice suddenly lowering a notch, offering a white flag of peace. "Come on, we've got to keep moving. This flashlight will hopefully last a while, lets just make sure we stay close together." Mulder nodded, shifting the straps of his pack to a different location on his shoulders. "You want me to go first for a while?" "It's okay." Scully replied with a touch of gratefulness. "Maybe I can get us lost a little more." Mulder chuckled, his hand landing on her backpack in front of him as she led the way. The slick ground of rock and mud made a suctioning noise beneath their feet for every careful step that they took, the rain thickening as the occasional gust of wind whipped the drops through the trees in dizzying patterns. Besides the pitter-patter of the rain, the surrounding forest and stationary clouds in the sky worked together to wrap them in an eerie silence. Just like the early morning of the nature hike, the presence of forest life was non- existent. Not another sound could be heard. As they approached a turn, Scully withdrew the map from her pocket, holding the wet paper delicately so it wouldn't tear. Mulder leaned over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as Scully's wet hair entered his nostrils, the weak beam of light barely illuminating the pages in her hands. "According to my calculations," Scully spoke thoughtfully, her head bent over the map as she continued walking, "I believe we're on Mill Prong Trail. So if that's true, we should be intersecting Limberlost right up ahead. And see this, Mulder?" Mulder's eyes moved from the soft curve of Scully's face down to where her finger was pointing. "We'll be coming out almost exactly where Beth was found." "Well, whadda' ya' know." Mulder commented. "So when we hit a wide trail, it's just got to be..." "Scully!" Mulder yelled as his partner's tiny body flashed away from him, his hands grappling at Scully's backpack a second too late as it disappeared into the black night. The sound of Scully's startled voice, a wordless shriek, alarmed his ears as he was cast into the thick black of the forest. His hands flailed into the black air, his senses confused and disoriented by his surroundings. He couldn't see anything around him, as if his eyelids were closed over his eyes. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, a fear more gripping than any physical pain contracting in his stomach, his mouth instantly dry. "Scully!" He called again into the night, his voice cracking into a restrained sob, falling to his knees into the sloshing mud on the trail. He jammed his hand down into a sharp piece of rock, feeling the warm trickle of blood on his palm, but not caring as his hands vehemently searched for clues. His urgency mounted as his hand slid along the seething ground, feeling the rain pelting on his head, running in a steady stream across his forehead and trickling from the end of his nose. His hands discovered a sudden end to the path, only around two feet in front of him, where the muddy stream took a dive down a sharp embankment. "Scully! Can you hear me?" Mulder screamed at the top of lungs down into the dark pit below. His voice sounded so foreign, so terrified, so alone in the wilderness. "Scully, answer me!" Mulder ears strained to pick up a sound, any sound besides the tittering rain and the slopping of the mud as it rushed down the embankment. He tried to calculate how far down the drop went, but he discouragingly had no clear answers. He felt so useless, helpless, trapped in this black world. He listened intently once again, also debating whether or not he should take a leap of faith and send himself down the embankment as well. His ears picked up a sound. "Mulder!" It was feint, but it was the most beautiful sound in the world as Mulder excitedly called back. "Scully! Are you alright?!" "I think so...I landed on soft dirt...well, sort-of. I've got mud from head to toe, but it cushioned my fall. That was a wild ride, though!" Mulder smiled at her attempt to make a joke despite the circumstances. "How far down do you think you are?" "I don't know--it was all so fast. Oh dammit, the flashlight is gone. I can't see a thing!" "I can't either." Mulder sighed discouragingly, speaking louder to reply, "Try to find that flashlight, Scully, we're blind without it." "Why not," Scully was grumbling more to herself than at Mulder, "I can't get any muddier." Mulder waited patiently on his knees, the mud swirling and trickling around him, the thick waves disappearing down the drop-off his hands had found. He could barely hear Scully's sloshing from down below as she searched for the flashlight, keeping his fingers crossed that the waterproof flashlights also included being mudproof...if Scully could find it at all, of course. Another minute passed, his brows suddenly furrowing as he cocked his head to the side, listening behind him. Rain. Mud. Scully. Thrashing leaves? It had to be the wind, Mulder decided, feeling the cool air whipping around him, looking forward, waiting for Scully to give him an update on the flashlight search. "This mud is about three feet deep," Scully called, breathing hard from her search, "Combined with this lovely night, you could lose the state of New York in here." Mulder started to smile when he heard the noises again. It was now closer, uneven from the wind patterns sweeping across the mountain, out of sync with the forest, sloppy. He turned his head in the direction, pinpointing that it was coming from behind, his thoughts rapidly trying to discern between the forest attempting to play tricks on his imagination or if this wasn't the forest at all. The sounds were light and dark, smooth and rough, wet leaves swishing and swirling together. The sounds grew louder, the slashing and pounding of branches being added into the intensity. Mulder's ears were picking up the breaking, snapping, and crushing from within the forest, knowing without a doubt there was something out there causing the noises, a presence that his instincts could feel had sensed him, targeted him, and was now coming for him! He stood to his feet, instinctively throwing off his pack, his legs as weak as straw while blood hammered in his wrists and temples. He was standing utterly still, not even allowing his breath to escape his lips in fear that he would be heard. He wanted to believe it was just the group of hunters, or maybe Dorothy and George hiking through the woods, but he knew there was no point in deceiving himself, his senses letting him know without a shadow of a doubt that the source of the noise was too large and too fast to be human. "What's that noise, Mulder? What on earth are you doing up there?" Scully's voice was far away to him, his body thunderstruck as a cold shiver ran across his spine. He felt the danger like a dead weight on his back, facing an enemy he was blind to, the noise representing the naked shadow of fear itself. The noise was barreling down upon him, tree branches crashing, a low-bass rumbling beneath his frozen feet. "The ride is about to get wilder!" Mulder called in a frenzied tone, turning to the unknown waiting below him and back to unknown behind him. Either way, the options were grim, but he had the choice of either facing the evil forces charging down the trail, or throw himself over the ledge and hope for the same muddy ride Scully had received. "I don't believe it--I found the flashlight!" Scully called, the dim light suddenly shining up at him from below. Mulder gritted his teeth nervously. The slide down was farther than the thought--a good 50 feet or more. He noticed Scully had been lucky, inspecting the shadowed jettisons of sharp rock protruding from the bank, a narrow, curving stream of mud rushing around and over them. "Scully!" Mulder yelled in a warning tone, his seriousness alerting her attention, "Get rid of that thing...and watch out!" His head whipped back into the darkness behind him, hearing the thundering closing in, the danger right upon him. Without another moment of hesitance, his legs pushed his body off the slick ground and into the air. He was soaring, weightless, Scully's tiny beacon disappearing below as she turned off the light. His legs were braced and waiting for impact, the wind whipping up through his coat, past his face. It was almost surreal, like a bad dream, when he heard it--the noise. A ferocious scream pierced his eardrums, so loud his hands automatically covered his ears, his body landing roughly on the hard embankment at the same time. The mud was slick and fast, his body zigzagging out of control at breakneck speed, his hands moving away from his ears in an attempt to slow himself down, catching and slapping against rock. The noise continued to ring in his ears, it was a sound unlike any he had ever heard before. It was wild, terrifying, and right behind him. His body came to an abrupt halt when he hit the thick pool of mud at the bottom, pitching him face-first into the slimy goop. He coughed and sputtered, pulling his face free while bending his knees and immersing his body into the mud, instinctually hiding himself. "Scully!" He whispered frantically, his hands and arms slicing and feeling through the mud, a torrential gust of wind whipping at his face for a few seconds before it suddenly stopped as quickly as it had started. He felt something grab onto his leg, immediately using every resource of strength in his body to shake it loose, panic rising in his throat. "Whoa, whoa--it's me, Mulder, it's me." Came the soft whisper of his partner, calming his struggling. He turned toward Scully's voice, reaching up with is muddy hands to make contact with the soft nape of her neck, feeling her mud-caked hair. "Oh thank goodness." He breathed, "You're safe." "Whatever made that noise is coming back. Hear it?" Scully questioned, already pulling him to the right. Mulder's ears perked up, hearing the thrashing once again, the wind picking up around them. "Oh, damn." "When I had the light on, I noticed some shelter over by the rocks. It's not much, but better than nothing--at least it worked a moment ago--come on." Scully spoke in a professional, but urgent, tone, not having to ask her partner twice as they sliced through the mud, their feet moving thick and slow. They had just made contact with the rock, huddling down in the swirling mud as the wind grappled at their skin in the darkness. Mulder strained his eyes into the black night, hoping to catch a glimpse, just a millisecond of a peek at what was soaring above, threatening them, preying on them. The wind grew rough, the rain whipping in wild angles as Mulder sensed the large enemy looming very close to them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his body feeling naked against the enormous power their predator possessed. He could feel eyes upon him, calculating, cold, studying him while he gripped his partner's arm tightly, pushing himself against the rock with brute force, pressing in every inch he could to keep his body from being exposed. The wind was so rough he clenched his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut while hearing his partner make a tiny moan of discomfort as she pressed tightly against the rock with him. Those ten seconds felt like hours, the rain stinging their skin, the unknown lurking right overhead, but just as suddenly as the whole incident had started, the wind ceased, the black shadow was gone. Mulder and Scully both stayed frozen in their positions, ears on high-alert in case the unknown flying object returned. Their lungs burned as they gasped for air, allowing their panic to wash away, holding onto each other's arms like anchors on a ship. "Alright, Mulder, what the hell was that? This is the exact same thing that happened to me on the hike, except I never heard any noise like that...that...scream." Mulder could tell Scully was hoping he had an explanation, any explanation including one of his infamous wild ones, because she clearly was at a loss of words. The only problem was, Mulder knew, so was he. "I'm thinking we just had our first run-in with the mining company's Charlie-T." Mulder supplied as Scully finally released her hands from his forearms. "Whatever that is." "You didn't get a look at it?" "It was too dark--but it was definitely huge, and that sound we heard must have been the same sound Gil was talking about on the night when he went out looking for Beth and Lou." "I've never heard anything like it." "Which means we've probably never seen anything like it." Mulder finished, sloshing away from the rock into the muddy waters. Scully paused behind him, a weak beam of light suddenly illuminating a path, his body almost waist-deep in the slimy, brown liquid. "Is your pack somewhere around?" Scully asked as she hoisted a brown lump onto her back. Mulder snorted. "I threw it off before I took a nose dive down the mud slide. At that moment, Skinner's face seemed so harmless compared to what was coming through the woods." Scully sighed. "There goes my next month's pay." "Hey, it's better to be breathing than eating." Mulder quipped, making his way toward the edge of the muddy pool. "Wait, Mulder!" Scully hissed, halting his motions immediately. "Did you hear that?" Mulder stood statue still, his ears listening to each separate patter of rain, hearing a feint guttural groan over to his right. "It's coming back?" He questioned with a hiss. Scully was intently listening behind him, finally speaking in a relieved tone, "Not this time, Mulder, that's definitely human." -------------------------------------- 3:10 AM - SUNDAY SOMEWHERE IN SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK -------------------------------------- "It's coming from over here!" Scully called over her shoulder, the weak flashlight beam bobbing frantically across the wet earth as she ran toward the feint cries from within the woods. She had diverted from the narrow, slick trail that led away from the muddy pool, now dodging gnarled tree trunks darkened from the rain, appearing suddenly as if they were scary monsters in a horror movie. Ferns and underbrush swished at her feet, her clothes feeling ten pounds heavier with layers of mud caked inside and out. Mulder was close behind Scully, her ears picking up his rhythmic footfalls as he thrashed through the moldy, wet leaves. The sounds in the distance were growing near, louder, as Scully determinedly stayed at a jogging pace. She easily identified it as a person groaning in pain, although weak, but steady. She could only wonder who her partner and herself were about to find--the possibilities were endless. Scully suddenly made an abrupt halt, Mulder bumping into her from behind. "What is it?" Mulder breathed heavily from the run. "It's a huge pile of brush..." Scully answered as she swung her flashlight across a tightly woven mass of branches, the top reaching as high as Scully's chin. "...and it looks like it runs way on down the forest--there's no way around it." "Ah, time for some of my boyish agility." Mulder spoke, the teasing note in his voice noticed by Scully. He had moved in front of her in one quick motion, using the flashlight beam as his guide, grabbing a firm hold in the branches. He began moving up the side, Scully still pointing the flashlight upwards, listening to the slap of Mulder's wet, heavy coat against his legs. After a minute he reached the top, hesitating with one leg over each side, turning to Scully. "The weather's great up here--it really is possible to catch some more rain." Scully felt the impulse to smile, even after the huge 'War and Peace' circumstances that had piled up over the last twenty-four hours. She passed up her hiker's pack and flashlight, Mulder extending a helping hand down to her. She slid her hand into his larger one, feeling the muddy grit against her palm like sandpaper, his strong pull assisting her ascension. The warmth that flooded through her hand and down her arm seemed to melt the dirt away, bringing a sense of comfort washing inside her, reinforcing the wall around her to keep out the wet, lifelessly cold night. "This is pretty sturdy." Mulder chattered as Scully joined him at the top, trying to glimpse at what was below. She cursed to herself at the darkness, not being able to see farther than a foot away, the one flashlight beam their only savior, keeping their existence alive in the forest. "Hello! Is anyone out there?" Scully called into the moist air around her, hesitantly removing her hand from her partner's as she heard a feint "It's real, it's gotta' be...yeah, yeah, over here!" Scully's heart jumped as she swiftly reached the ground on the other side, whipping the flashlight from Mulder, and taking off toward the source at a fast run. "Okay, we're coming, just keep talking!" "Oh please let it be real..." the voice continued to waft across the black stillness, "...I'm here, I'm here!" Just then the light picked up a mussed, ripped t-shirt, stained with dark red spots as well as smears of brown dirt, a few feet further, its owner was waiting. The very first thing that startled her eyes was the oozing, sticky red running and staining a pair of torn jeans, the earth underneath a hard, cold, red blanket. Her light flew up into a pair of blue eyes sunken back in a pale, white face, silver blonde streaks of hair shining through large clumps of mud. It was Lou. He was alive. "Lou? Lou Farrand?" Scully questioned, dropping to her knees next to the still form. "Oh, thank God." Was Lou's only response, a long sigh escaping his chest as his eyes closed in reverence. "The woods play strange tricks to the imagination--I wasn't sure if you were truly here, or if I was actually on my way out. Thank goodness it was the first one." "I'm Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," Scully continued, reaching back to Mulder for her backpack, "and this is my partner, Agent Mulder. We've been looking for you for the last two days, although this is a bit of a lucky discovery. I'm a doctor, so I'm going to take a look at your injuries." "I think they're both broken." Lou moaned disdainfully. "There was a rupture in the femeral artery on my left leg--you can see I had to use my belt as a tourniquet." "It's a good thing you did or you would never have made it this far." Scully spoke as she moved the flashlight along Lou's legs, inspecting the damage with a sharp eye before leaning back to pull antiseptic and bandages from her first aid kit. "Sure enough, Lou, you've got a compound fracture of the femur in your left leg, and a disattached patella on the right." She finished, staring at the jutting white bone on his kneecap, assessing the best way to treat it without doing any more damage. She turned toward her partner, "Mulder, he's dehydrated and needs water right away." Mulder nodded seriously as he pulled Scully's canteen from her backpack, moving it toward Lou's cracked, dry lips. "Beth? Beth? What about Beth? Did she make it out safely?" Lou began asking frantically, ignoring the canteen being offered to him, a wild spark of light suddenly igniting in his eyes. Scully exchanged a warning glance with Mulder as her fingers continued to work in the warm, sticky blood, carefully dressing the running wounds. Mulder immediately stiffened to attention, returning her glance with questions of his own. Scully knew it was going to be hard to break the news, and it didn't help matters when the news had to be broken to a severely injured victim that had been lying alone in the woods for two days. "What happened out here, Lou? How did you and Beth get separated?" Mulder asked, trying to divert the young man's attention. They waited while Lou swallowed the water hungrily, tiny beads of water running away from the sides of his mouth and down his dirty cheeks, making light trails in the shape of a spider web as they washed dirt away with them. "I just have to know--just tell me if she's alright--that's all I need. Please, please, if you know something, I have to know too." Scully glanced out of the corner of her eye from Lou's urgent face into her partner's, letting out a slow breath as she stopped working on Lou's legs and moving up closer to his face. "Oh...no, no, tell me what I see in your eyes isn't true...tell me!" Lou cried suddenly with evident pain in his voice, grabbing tightly onto one of Scully's arms as if she were the only person that could save him from his misery. "Lou, while your worst injuries are on your legs, you've got to stay calm for your own sake." Scully spoke rationally, only slightly calming Lou's burst of emotion. "Beth was found earlier this evening, a quarter-mile from Skyland on Limberlost Trail. We got the call and headed up there, but they had already air-lifted her down to Charlottesville, so we arrived there not long after." Scully spoke in a soothing, soft tone, her eyes staring straight into Lou's terrified ones. "She was very badly hurt, Lou..." "No, no..." Lou was mumbling through Scully's words. "...her body had endured too much, and..." Scully's voice cracked slightly, her eyes growing hot underneath her eyelids while her professional side fought to hold onto her calm demeanor. It was hard not to notice the tears now cascading silently down Lou's cheeks and around to his ears, keeping her voice as even as possible, "...she slipped away." Lou let out a loud wail, heart-rendering and solitary, its roots stemming from pain deep inside him, taking over his body as he turned away from Scully, turning away from the world. He let out another long, gasping scream, a mixture of anguish and rage, calling out a series of garbled statements. "I shouldn't have let her go...it's too late...too late...forever too late." Scully placed a hand on Lou's shoulder, making contact with ripped, grubby cloth from an undershirt that had managed to stay on him, attempting to offer him her condolences and understanding. Lou jerked away as if a hot coal had brushed his skin, cocooning himself away from them, his misery too overwhelming to register anything else happening around him. "I spoke with her, Lou." Scully spoke quietly, gaining the young man's full attention. "Her last thoughts were for you." Lou rolled back, his face streaked, eyes puffy, the skin still ghastly white and pulled thin across his cheekbones. "While she was afraid to tell you, she loved you very much. You saved her in so many ways, Lou, and filled her with a love for life, for living each day to its fullest. You awakened something inside her that had been dead for almost twenty years. You were her friend, her mentor when it came to eagles, her protector, and most of all her love. The one thing she wanted you to know more than anything else in her whole life was that you were loved by her." Scully could feel Mulder's eyes staring across Lou at her in the darkness, all three of them now very still and deep in thought. Usually, her radar was on target as to what her partner was thinking, but this time, the signal was confusing, curious, even somewhat awkward. Whatever buttons had been set off inside him, she was sure they had never been pressed before. "She gave us a number." Mulder spoke, his voice heavy with sympathy for the torn body lying next to him. "Which traced back to a company in West Virginia. The best lead we have is that this object is called 'Charlie-T.' Beth wanted us to know, Lou, she didn't trust us at first until she found out we were on the right side--on Dorothy and Gil's side. We need your help in finding who or what did this to Beth, to make sure that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands." Lou was silent, his upper body curled inward, his motionless legs sticking out below him. It was several minutes before he let out a pained whimper, saying, "I loved her too--I wish I had told her. I want her to know, but my chance has been given away, wasted so foolishly. But one of her last wishes was to protect what is out here, even after it did all of this to us, so I've got to honor it-- for her. You'll think I've gone crazy from exposure these last two days...hey, I probably have...but you'll never believe what we were up against...what we're up against now." Mulder settled close to Lou's face while Scully pulled a syringe out of the first aid kit. "Try me." "First of all, we've got to get out here before it comes back, or we'll all be midnight snacks." Lou spoke seriously. "You must have had to climb something to get in here," he paused while Mulder and Scully shook their heads yes, "Because this is a nest." ------------------------------------------ 3:42 AM SOMEWHERE IN SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK... ...OUT OF THE NEST ------------------------------------------ "Okay, Lou, there's three trails here...and oh, how nice, a picnic table." Mulder called behind him, not able to filter out a twinge of sarcasm. Lou snorted. "There's a lot of picnic tables around here, Mr. Mulder, but if I'm guessing correctly, take the left trail." Mulder moved ahead, the front end of a makeshift gurney in his hands, Scully bringing up the rear. Before they had been able to move Lou from his location, Scully had quickly splinted both of Lou's legs while Mulder had roped together a backboard made out of branches. Lou was now strapped in securely, moaning the occasional objection as Mulder and Scully juggled him and the backboard through the woods. Lou was attempting to get them back to Skyland, Mulder calling back descriptions of the surroundings while Lou gave them directions from memory. The quickly dimming flashlight was tucked securely in one of Mulder's armpits, his hands busy hoisting Lou's heavy body across the rocky terrain, keeping the beam straight and forward into the black ahead of them. Lou was motionless and silent on the backboard, staring with inexpressive eyes into the thick black above him. He continued to answer to Mulder's questions mechanically, his thoughts far away from the mountains, but deep-rooted inside his pain. Mulder's ears picked up the faint rumble of rushing water as he curved around a downhill slope, the low bass wafting eerily through the darkness. "Water." Lou spoke up, wincing as his leg jerked slightly under the straps, "Go to it--I'll know where we are for sure then." "Good, I hope it's close." Scully spoke up from behind, "I don't know how much longer my arms are going to hold up." "It doesn't sound too far off." Mulder answered, adding with concern, "You sure you don't want to rest now?" "No, no, just keep going." Mulder immediately picked up Scully's hint of stoicism, her familiar front he had seen on far too many occasions. He knew when he heard that tone in his partner's voice it clearly meant she was struggling, but didn't want anyone to know. Contrary to what Scully thought she was projecting, he knew immediately what she was hiding. Instead of trying to argue, he quickened his pace, listening carefully to the direction the rush of water was coming from. It was only a few minutes before the trail curved by a dark, swirling river bed, the loud roar coming from a steep waterfall, crashing and misting into the waters below. "Oh no." Lou sighed with disdain, closing his eyes, "It's Dark Hollow Falls--a seventy foot waterfall located a good two miles from Skyland. We're farther out than I thought--the elevation gain out here is about 440 feet, making the difficulty level moderate--you two will never be able to carry me that far." Mulder attempted to hide his disappointment, cursing under his breath as he inspected the area with the flashlight. He didn't realize they had traveled that far from Skyland, their hopes on getting Lou medical attention fading rapidly. "Maybe it was meant for us to get lost," Scully spoke up thoughtfully, weariness in her voice, "otherwise we wouldn't have found Lou." Mulder gave a nod, wanting to cast his eyes across his partner's face, thankful for her mediating statement in their grim predicament. "This trail is well-traveled though--a lot of folks come down here to see it, so if we can hang on until morning, I'm sure someone will find us." Lou spoke rationally. "At least we're out of danger...well, immediate danger anyway." "I wouldn't count on it." Mulder sighed as he carefully placed Lou down on a grassy area near the river, Scully gladly taking a seat near them, "I didn't mention this yet, but they sent out some hunters earlier this evening." "What? Poachers?" Lou asked, alarmed. "Not exactly--they have permission to be here--they took one look at Beth and called them in. Gil got upset and went in after them, and now Dorothy and George are out here looking for him." "Oh, man, what a huge mess!" Lou exclaimed, his face twisting in pain. "They're defenseless to what's out here--they shouldn't be in here." "You've got to tell us what happened, Lou." Scully spoke as calmly as she could, "We've got to help them in any way we can." Lou nodded. "I know, I know...it's just...hard." "We understand," Mulder spoke with empathy, "Just take your time." Lou let out a long sigh, a multitude of images flashing through his mind, tears brimming in his eyelids. He looked between Mulder and Scully, then out toward the river, finally speaking. "It all happened so fast. Beth and I were out in the woods around ten o'clock, we were heading far down North Ridge because...we...ah..." "Were looking for alien activity?" Mulder supplied, receiving a shocked stare from Lou. "It's okay, that's what we investigate, among other things." He could feel Scully's mocking stare directed toward him as Lou continued. "Well, yeah, I'm afraid that's what we were doing." He made a nervous glance between the two agents before continuing. "Then we heard something coming toward us through the woods. We had good visibility that night--full moon--but we were stuck right on the edge of the ridge, there was no place to hide. I remember I grabbed Beth's hand and we were running...the wind had picked up suddenly when I glanced over my shoulder...I-I couldn't believe my eyes. I had never felt to utterly terrified as I did right then." Scully nodded encouragingly as Lou paused, a wild light suddenly flickering in his eyes. "It was flying, and so unbelievably huge, and staring right at us with its hideous face. It was some sort of...of...bird..." Mulder's eyes darted over to Scully's skeptical face before returning to Lou's. "...it was prehistoric." Mulder could see the shock on Scully's face, her jaw frozen in place as Lou's words heated up as he talked faster, reliving the night in his mind. "I swear it's the truth--it's so clear I could never forget it. It was precise, relentless, coming at us with its feet extended like we were two rats waiting to be eaten. It was all so fast...it just...grabbed us with its claws, and we were in the air...Beth was screaming but I couldn't see her--the creature had grabbed my legs, I was swinging upside down, its grip so tight I was in agony, then I don't remember anything else." Mulder's mouth had run suddenly dry, only able to imagine what Beth and Lou head endured. It was terrifying just to think about it. "Beth was trying to wake me up..." Lou went on, his voice cracking as he looked back into the black sky, "She was so hurt...but I couldn't move my legs...I was so helpless...I couldn't help her." Lou let out a solitary sob before continuing, "It was nearby--she had waited hours for it to leave, but it had finally gone to sleep. It was so huge, like a mountain against the sky, its wingspan had to be more than 30 feet across. We were in a huge nest it had built, it instinctually was preparing to for offspring, and there we were-- its stash of food, just waiting to die." Lou paused once more, his face contorting with pain, forcing himself to continue. "Beth found the number--she said it was on a metal band around the leg that had grabbed her. She never lost consciousness...she experienced it all...oh, why couldn't it have been me?!" Scully reached toward Lou, "It's okay, take a break if you need to." Lou shook his head stubbornly, "No, I've got to tell her story...our story. She was so brave--so very brave. She was extremely shy, and you would think something like this would just...just...but she didn't. There was no way she could lift me, but she kept insisting that she would go try to get help, even though I told her adamantly not to go. She said she knew her way around the woods well enough-- it had been something that I had taught her over the last four years. She was hurting so much, I wasn't blind, but she kept putting on a brave face and telling me that she would be alright. I knew she was lying to me, but I couldn't move...I couldn't stop her from leaving...leaving me for good." Beth's actions suddenly reminded Mulder of his own partner. He knew if they were in that situation, Scully would have been done the exact same thing. It was an unsettling thought, especially the image of Scully leaving him behind, driven by her heart to save them both instead of allowing them both to die. "I know what the tag is." Lou continued, angrily wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I've seen it before--when I was working with the eagle research team we visited a science facility just outside of Washington. Their research involved cloning eagles--the same technique used to created Dolly the sheep. Except these scientists were doing this to help increase the population of bald eagles--an alternative method to a not-so-productive method of breeding in captivity. This way the eagles would never go extinct, which, is of course, the main concern of all conservationists, including myself. Excellent project. They had about ten cloned eagles, and each of them had a separate identification band on their legs. The numbers are according to birth—"A" being for the first, which would be "Alpha", "B" for "Bravo", and..."C" for "Charlie" and so on. The letter at the end represented which egg cell they were duplicated from...and it's uncanny that this creature's band is just like theirs--that's where it doesn't make sense." "So you're saying this prehistoric dinosaur was created from cloning?" Scully asked incredulously, "There are obviously no living dinosaur cells to use. If what you're saying is true, that would mean this creature was formed by cloning dead cells." She turned to Mulder. "That's scientifically impossible--there must be some mistake." "Yeah, but it's here, Scully." Mulder spoke up. "Dinosaurs haven't walked the planet in billions of years and one suddenly pops up out of nowhere...a creature that *somebody* knows about because that band didn't get there on it's own." "Well, dinosaurs of this size anyway." Lou interjected. "Few creatures could seem more different than birds and dinosaurs, however, as far back as the 1860s, scientists began to notice many similarities in the skeletons of birds and even the largest of dinosaurs. The debate between paleontologists has been going on for decades--it centers of the claim that birds did not merely evolve from dinosaurs, they *are* dinosaurs." "I've heard that theory before." Scully spoke up quickly, "I roomed with a paleontology major for a year during college before she transferred to a college down in New Mexico. I remember she said that the birds and dinosaurs most likely evolved separately from a common ancestor, descendants of previously-flying protobirds, however no such forms have yet to be discovered." "Until now?" Mulder asked. "You're saying this is what Strughold Mining Company is up to?" "You said it yourself, Mulder, why would they suddenly need all of that land? And just as Lou is saying, it's highly likely there's an "A" and "B" of this creature as well." "Is still doesn't explain how this creature got here." Mulder continued, "You're saying they took DNA from a little robin and created this?" "No, no, not at all." Lou spoke up, "I think Agent Scully may be right. Birds are thought to be coelurosaurs, members of the same group as the Velociraptor and Tyrannosaurus. This creature I saw fits the description: it had a long, narrow skull with scissor-like jaws, whereas the T. rex had nutcracker jaws, so it probably attacks and dismembers its prey with a surgical precision, in which I truly thought I was going to get and up close and personal look. Otherwise, there are a lot of similar traits between them. If somehow they found a perfect, undamaged DNA, maybe they did find a way to clone it--but this did not come from anything living today." "Like the perfectly preserved Wooly Mammoth they found frozen in the ice at the Polar Cap? Completely intact down to its hair after 25,000 years--its DNA frozen in time, unscathed?" Scully questioned. "Exactly." Lou agreed. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not a scientist, but I'm very knowledgeable on bird history and what goes on in that community. While a lot of folks do share their discoveries with the media and museums, there are a lot of scientists who keep new discoveries hidden from the public, working on experiments, racing against one another to see who will make the breakthrough first. I've had two days to think of all the how's and why's, and this is my best guess. The "T" at the end of the identification could very well mean the Tyrannosaurus line, that maybe a specimen, still frozen in ice at one of the caps, was found and taken for experimentation. Maybe they did find a way." The three of them were silent, trying their best to swallow the information. Scully finally broke the silence. "Okay, for argument's sake, lets say these scientists at Strughold Mining Company are secretly perfecting the cloning of dead cells-- for what purpose? Why are they going to all of this trouble?" The wheels were turning inside Mulder's head, Scully's question sparking facts and theories to mesh together. "Oh damn, Scully, I think I've got it." Scully lifted an inquisitive eyebrow toward her partner. "Remember when we were there years ago--when we found the tunnels of records of every person who had ever had a smallpox vaccination?" Lou's eyes grew wide at Mulder's statement. "I can't forget." Scully answered quickly. "Well each one had a tissue sample as well." Scully's eyes suddenly lit up as she caught on to what Mulder was about to tell her. "Oh my, Mulder, do you think?" "What else could it be?" Mulder continued. "Now the aliens know about the vaccine and they know about the creation of a perfect human-hybrid. They know their deal with the syndicate has been betrayed, and they will stop at nothing to colonize the planet." "Holy cow--what in the world are you talking about?" Lou asked in a terrified voice, trying to lift his head higher to see Mulder's face. "So maybe they are trying to save the scientists--that's one of the reasons you were taken. The scientists, with this technology, can literally bring back the entire human race--the entire generation that has had the smallpox vaccine--millions of people after we have won the colonization. They can bring back our animals, us, literally anything that was alive." "That's what the FBI believes?" Lou was rambling on, "You can't be serious!" "Good God, Mulder." Scully breathed, "Then they've done it--this dinosaur is living proof." "We can't let these men hunt it down and kill it." Mulder spoke vehemently. "We've got to save it." "And how do you propose we save a three-ton dinosaur that's above us on the food chain, Mulder?" "We'll worry about the details later, Scully." ----------------------------- 4:19 AM - SUNDAY DARK HOLLOW FALLS SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK ----------------------------- "How's he doing?" Scully slowly made her way to the water's edge, observing her partner shedding his soiled coat, smelling the damp earth emanating from her chest and shoulders from her own soiled clothes. "He's in a lot of pain, so I gave him another dose of morphine. It only took him a few minutes to fall asleep, but it's better that he rests anyway. His injuries are serious, but it looks like he's going to make it." Mulder nodded, brushing at his coat mirthlessly. "Brown's Dry Cleaners are gonna' love this." Scully snorted, "I'm sure you've kept them in business these last six years anyway." Mulder smiled in the shadows as he switched off the flashlight, immediately enveloping them in the black veil of night. "Why did you do that?" Scully's voice traveled through the moist air. "We've got two hours until daybreak--I'm thinking we'd better save the battery in case we really do..." "Run into a dinosaur?" "Yeah, that pretty much covers it." Silence hung between them for a moment, a barely perceptible drizzle misting from the clouds above, the roar of cascading water hissing next to them. Finally, a chuckle broke the silence. It was the soft throaty notes of Scully's voice, dancing through the black night lighter than air, music to the dead forest around them. "I'm glad you find me so amusing." Mulder retorted in a teasing tone. "No, no, it's not that." Scully spoke thoughtfully, listening to the rustle of her partner's clothes, a smile playing on her lips. "It's the irony of it all, Mulder. This case lands at our doorstep, we have to go undercover as bird-lovers of all things, listening about cardinals and chickadees, meeting these people who have birds on the brain..." "In the case of my cabin buddies, they are bird brains." "...and what seems like a routine case of finding two missing hikers turns into Jurassic Park gone wrong." "Oh, Scully, and don't forget about Swamp Thing." Mulder interjected, his mud-covered coat slapping down against the ground. "So why is it that no matter where we go, something absolutely bizarre is always waiting for us. It's uncanny, Mulder." "Well I'm just glad it isn't inspecting manure." Scully sighed, leaning her hands back against the cool, wet earth, blades of grass crushing into the dirt under the heavy weight. "Seriously, Mulder, I think..." A loud splash reverberated from the river, beads of water plopping and smacking against the waters. "Mulder?" Scully called, her shoulders squaring as she sat taller, "Mulder!" Another trickle of water, out of sync with the river, reached her ears as her partner's voice called from a farther distance, "What? I'm taking advantage of nature's shower, Scully, and you know, you should really try this--the water's warm--must be coming from a warm spring somewhere." "We should really stay close together." Scully went on in a professional tone, although her mind was already savoring the idea of getting rid of the clumps of mud clinging to her hair and skin. "Have it your way." Mulder taunted, "You must be used to it from that lovely mask you decided to share with me during our short-lived moments of marital bliss." He deliberately egged her on as the sound of his body slicing underneath the water echoed against the rocks. Scully sighed with irritation, her fingers crawling back to the sleeping form behind her, finding a strong pulse beating in Lou's neck. Satisfied, she scooted toward the river, removing her shoe as a stream of gooey mud slid down the back of her hand. Scully tested her foot in the water, the warmth instantly numbing her muscles, her exhausted ligaments desperately yearning for more. She could hear her partner resurface, the sounds of him attempting to scrub his hair clean followed. She thought about her own hair, feeling the dry, caked mud covering her arms like a protective shell. "Just for a minute." Scully mumbled to herself, quickly standing and discarding her coat, feeling ten pounds lighter already. She paused as she reached for her shirt, wondering how much her partner had discarded. She looked down, unable to see even and inch from her nose, feeling the saturated cloth clinging tightly around her. Her hand slid across the slimy residue, the brown liquid squeezing between her fingers. The idea that she didn't want to give a wrong impression entered her mind, and almost as quickly she reprimanded herself. She acknowledged that she had been keeping the events after the dance tucked away in the back of her mind, that solving the case and their safety had to be the only thing she thought about to keep her judgment and actions clear. Yet it had been gnawing on her, and again, she was confused at what her relationship was with Mulder--was it just partners, friends, or did both of them have a consensus agreement that they should move farther? What if this dinosaur swooped down and carried Mulder away like Lou and Beth, she asked herself, wouldn't she feel exactly the way Lou or Beth did? That she would give anything in the world if she just tell him one thing, to tell him how she truly felt inside? Would she want to be in agony the rest of her years on earth just because she let fear win inside her? She shook her head angrily, swinging the shirt over her head, throwing her pants to the side. "Just for a minute." She repeated, wading into the warm ribbon of water, carefully stepping across smooth-topped rocks. "Decided to join in for a little water polo?" Mulder called from the other side of the river, hearing the splash of his partner. "Long enough to get this mud off of me." Scully replied, busy scraping the mud off her arms with her fingernails, feeling the strange, intimate swirls in places no one had touched in a long time. "If at all possible, I don't want to be having a face-off with Charlie-T in here." "Well, one advantage to his size is that he's not very quiet--we'd hear him coming." "Not as easily with this waterfall though." Scully added absentmindedly, her back arching backward as she dipped her hair into the waters, scrubbing roughly with her fingers. She could hear Mulder disappear once more underwater while her muscles screamed at her with pain, letting her know they had been working hard for the last 24 hours straight. The swirling warm water acted as a balm against her skin, assisting to ease the lingering soreness. Scully couldn't wait for morning to arrive, although she knew Charlie-T was still out there with the hunters, Gil, Dorothy, and the many hikers who would be making their way down the trails at first light. They wouldn't be able to stop until they found him, although Mulder had yet to inform her as to what exactly they would do. She did know that their guns would be useless against a creature that size, and that was all they had. Lou had mentioned using tranquilizer to calm it enough to be able to transport it out the park, and so far, that was the best plan, except, of course, they didn't have any. And where would it go then? "Boo!" Scully let out a scream, jumping back in a wild panic as Mulder let out a laugh, now only a foot in front of her. "Mulder!" Scully reprimanded, "That wasn't funny!" "Early morning tension breaker." He quipped playfully, his hands breaking the surface of the water as he moved them in wide circles. "This water will put you right to sleep if you're not careful." "I'll take my chances." Scully fumed, her heart drumming in her chest. "Okay, fine, I see I'm not appreciated here." Mulder spoke, the amusement evident in his voice. He moved forward, colliding right into Scully. Scully wasn't expecting the hard bump from her partner, feeling the brush of wet cloth and silky smooth skin against her stomach and chest, her toes grappling along the rocky bottom of the river to stay upright. "Oh...ah, sorry, Scully. When you stand still I can't hear where you are." Mulder made a quick excuse, dodging to the side away from the close contact of his partner. "You're wearing your clothes?" "And you aren't?" Scully felt the impulse to make a run for the river bank, her eyes growing wide at Mulder's last question, suddenly very conscious of her underwear. "No, there's some." Mulder let out a chuckle. "Well don't mind me while you bond with nature, Scully." Scully could feel a frown form at the corners of her mouth. Mulder picked up on Scully's awkward silence, quickly adding, "I just wanted the mud off my shirt too. See..." the water rippled and gurgled, the wet slap of his shirt against the rocks reaching her ears, "...now we're even. It's four something in the morning, Scully, and we're stuck in the middle of the woods with a dinosaur--who cares." Scully could feel a smile trying to break free. "And see, you can rest easy that it's all by the book. While there's a rule about agents consorting in the same hotel room, I certainly don't remember anything about agents consorting in the same river." Scully smiled in the darkness, holding back a round a laughter with the last bit of strength she could muster. "Oh, now, don't laugh, Scully. That would violate rule 9, section 3: No agent is allowed to laugh while on the job." "That's not a rule, Mulder." Scully couldn't help but chuckle, her smile widening in the dark night. Mulder joined in the laughter. "No way, Scully, we've spent years perfecting that one--it has to be in there." Scully listened to the deep, beautiful notes of her partner's infectious laugh, her own softer, higher voice intermingling with his. He was actually laughing out loud. She loved that laugh. She loved him. The next thing she knew, Mulder had suddenly turned, their faces close. His hand was gentle and strong as it made contact with her neck directly under her earlobe. Before she even had time to halt her laughter to ask what he was doing, his lips had descended onto hers, the touch asking, warm, soft, moist. She wanted to move, but her body was frozen--a deep freeze born from an overwhelmed sense of surprise and shock, of senses malfunctioning, of brainpower completely utilized. The touch was feather-light, never demanding, but a brush of askance and respect, of feelings waiting to escape like electromagnetically charged particles of light hiding just beneath the surface of her partner's lips. She picked up on Mulder's uncertainty, no doubt wondering if she would push him away and deck him for this brazen move. Of course, she had no such intention--it was a move she had been waiting for...hoping for. Mulder only lingered for a few seconds, his lips silently retracting from hers as he whispered in a breathless voice, "Taking care of some unfinished business." The entire moment had been completely unexpected. Mulder was known for diving headfirst into a case, for beating the odds and taking risks, and yet, never in a million years did she truly believe he would ever finally reach over and kiss her, especially after six years of dancing around the issue. Scully's silence obviously made Mulder even more self-conscious. "Oh...ah, Scully, it's late...I'm sorry." Mulder fumbled, his smile fading as he made a terrified, awkward retreat. "Mulder?" Scully finally managed in a voice lowered to a sibylline whisper, feeling the warm tingle alive at her lips, running through her entire body. As Mulder paused in the waters, she added, "It's about time" then moved toward him, her heart pounding wildly. Her outstretched hands made contact with Mulder's chest, her fingertips gliding through the water along the silky smooth skin. The river was turning, curving, spinning around them as she reached for his hands, entwining their fingers in a delicate tangle of tenderness. "Mulder, there's something I need to tell you...that I should have told you a long time ago." Scully spoke in a whisper so tiny Mulder had to lean closer. "I don't want us to end up like Beth and Lou, Mulder. Maybe it's selfish in it's own right, but that's how we learn--from mistakes that can't be undone. That whole concept alone is what the past is based on, and I know now we have to embrace the future and make what we want to happen, not just wish for it." Mulder nodded, his hands responding to his partner's tightening grip, hearing the wind sizzling through the treetops behind him. "I've been not only holding back my silence from you, but from myself. I have denied myself the only thing that is true to me, which is my wants, my desires, and my love. I've been a coward, Mulder, fear standing in my way because I allow it to be there. Loneliness was my choice, Mulder, because it was the easy choice, a protective way to live through life. I thought I was doing myself a favor, making life uncomplicated, hiding from heartbreak, keeping it at arm's length. But it's impossible to hide the truth, to not feel the misery, the sadness that grows forever inside because of this mistake, this choice of cowardice. The only way to win, to break free from its grip, is to expel the growing monster inside, to make it clean once again. I don't want to live with these feelings the rest of my life, death being the only thing to rescue me from this pain. And I don't want death to play a cruel joke either, just as in the case of poor Beth and Lou, so I won't let it, Mulder. I can't. I won't." Mulder was unable to swallow the dry lump in his throat as he managed to say, "Scully, I'm just as much of a coward, if not more." "No, Mulder." Scully breathed, staring up into the darkness towards her partner's face, not needing her eyes in any way to have a clear picture of his face in her mind. "My care, my respect, my love for you surpasses our partnership and our friendship--it's a feeling that could have jeopardized our work years ago, but I now feel it's more important to know, to be shed out into the open. I remember what almost happened in your hallway..." Mulder's body instantly stiffened with surprise. "...and I wanted it to happen, more than anything. But time allowed me an easy escape route, and before long a year had passed and it had been buried deep inside, just like the rest." Mulder moved his hands from his partner's, lavishing themselves slowly along Scully's ribs and up her back, resting comfortably around her. "I wanted it to happen too, Scully, more than I could ever say with words. I was living on the chance that maybe you truly didn't remember, otherwise it would have been unbearable." Hot tears jolted into Scully's eyelids at Mulder's last words, hearing the pain wafting through his voice as he spoke. She realized how much pain her partner had been enduring alongside her. What a waste, she thought, wasted time they could never get back, wasted because of fear's ugly rearing head between them. "I'm so sorry, Mulder." Scully let out a sob, Mulder's encircled hands drawing her body up against him in a heartfelt embrace. Their arms, the curves of their bodies synchronizing together. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Scully. We're both guilty on the same counts, and you should be proud, Scully, proud. You spoke your mind, your heart, you tossed fear right out the window and right into Charlie-T's dinner plate." Scully allowed a smile to cross her lips, her blurry eyes moving toward the source of Mulder's words while her head stayed pressed in the crook of her partner's warm, safe neck. "You spoke your mind too, Mulder, just not in so many words." A deep chuckle vibrated in Mulder's throat. "I guess I did, didn't I? It was a now or never moment. How many chances am I going to get when Agent Scully is swimming in a river in her underwear?" Scully's head bounced away from Mulder's chest while her smile widened. She reached up with one hand, finding the moisture of her partner's lips, replacing her fingertips with her own lips. The meeting of their lips was not hungry or searching, but generous and giving, passing on the fullness of their feelings, their sweetness to each other. The doors to their hearts were swinging wide, the universe rushing in. They both simultaneously withdrew, Scully feeling stars shooting beneath her eyelids, the years of a burdening weight being lifted from her shoulders. "You still have mud in you hair." Mulder whispered, "Let me help." Scully nodded as Mulder glided through the water silently, the warmth of his large frame protecting, hovering, closing in behind her. His large palms circled across her forehead and back through her hair, caressing and understanding. She closed her eyes as she leaned her scalp behind her, feeling the warm trickle of water cascading between locks of hair, dancing lightly around Mulder's swirling fingers. She could feel him move closer, the sweet, tickling hairs on his chest rubbing against the smoothness of her back. The soft skin of his cheek, mixed with the light scratch of a 5 o'clock shadow, slipped along the side of her neck, his hot breath scorching her skin, setting her on fire. His hands smoothed down her throat and shoulders, finally slipping down to each side of her waist, resting contentedly while the warmness of his slick lips and tongue tasted her the salty dampness of her neck, savoring each touch. She could feel the pounding of his heart, as well as her own, beating to the rhythm of the waters. Mulder had moved upwards, his tongue skittering across her ears, her eyes, her lips. She easily whirled around into his embrace, their warmth radiating as though they were replacing the missing sun. She felt a patient, tender exploring as he pressed against her, searching her mouth, holding her close. Her hands flamed across his back, feeling the spikes of wet hair at the nape of his neck, moving back across his back, the muscles quivering just under his skin, her fingers feeling the raw power beneath them. She was very conscious of Mulder's fingers creeping upwards along her bare sides, the touch slick and soft underneath the water. Her chest heaved with quick breaths, her lips crushing into Mulder's mouth as he returned her intensity. Love burst like a river inside, slashing, flowing, blasting until they became a part of the same roll of thunder cascading from the waterfall. He managed to move away from her lips on a trek down her neck and shoulders, his hands hesitating as they collided with saturated, thin cloth. "Wait, Scully." Scully curled her arm behind Mulder's head, pulling his check against hers. "I know, Mulder. It's still a hard road ahead, but at least we'll be living it and not simply existing our way through." Mulder grinned broadly, catching his breath. "Now it really does feel like we have all the time in the world." Scully grinned, latching firmly onto Mulder's hand and leading him toward the riverbank. "Well, for now, lets hope daybreak speeds up." "See, good things do come out of nice trips to the forest." Mulder added, leaning forward to leave one last kiss across Scully's lips, his arms around her forever. The wind howled through the chilly, cruel night, the rustling trees applauding in a standing ovation. -------------------------- 6:27 AM - SUNDAY DARK HOLLOW FALLS SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK -------------------------- The black sky had begun to turn a pearly light gray, the long- awaited golden light of dawn minutes from breaking above the horizon and into the sky. A mist hovered in the low parts of the woods, a ghostly veil blanketing the silent, damp earth. The relentless clouds had finally stopped, their wrung-out remains dotting the sky with tiny white wisps. Mulder tiredly glanced to the two sleeping forms near him. The first sleeping form had her ear resting peacefully against his heart while her smooth legs tangled alongside his sandy, salty, hairy ones. Her last words had been that she wouldn't fall asleep, and a few minutes later her eyes had closed and she had slipped away into the unconscious world. Only an arm's length away, Lou continued to sleep, resting his battered, bleeding body, his face peaceful in the gray light. He had only woken up once, a little over an hour ago, when Scully had administered another dose of morphine. Within a minute, he had fallen back to sleep. Mulder could feel his eyelids drooping heavily, the image of Charlie-T pouncing on them like sitting ducks being the only thing keeping him awake. The warmth from his partner and the silence of the Shenandoah morning were two difficult adversaries working against him. He was thankful that light was returning across the mountain--they had endured a very long, dark night. He watched a frog leap along the bank, searching for breakfast with its large, yellow eyes. As it jumped down into the river, it reminded Mulder of what had happened between him and his partner when they had been in the waters. In the early morning, his brain now hazy with tiredness, it felt like a dream, one of the best he ever had, of course. The sleeping, soft body next to him also told him that it wasn't a dream, that sharing the truth with each other had been real, had started something beautiful. He couldn't classify where they stood, although he knew they still had a long journey to continue together. The road ahead was still not written, undefined, and while he wouldn't exactly consider his partner "his Scully" because she was still headstrong, stoic, and her own person, he did have something extremely valuable that made him the richest man in the world. He had her trust, her companionship, her heart. The shot of a rifle pounded through the forest silence, the pop slicing crisply through air as Mulder lunged downward across Scully, the shot very close to where they were. "Mul...what is..." Scully was sleepily mumbling, trying to break free from Mulder's protective arm. Two more shots fired, one right after the other, two gunmen obviously engaging in the firing. The loud rings reverberated across the mountains, the echoes slowly disappearing into the vast growth of trees. "It must be the hunters." Scully groggily added, Mulder allowing her to sit up once the firing ceased. "They're close, Mulder, we can catch them to radio for help for Lou. It's his best chance." Mulder nodded. "We risk getting caught in the line of fire ourselves." "Do you think they already know what they're looking for?" "Well, if they were sent out from Strughold Mining Company, I'm sure they do." Mulder replied grimly, standing to hastily grab his coat, now hardened with mud. Scully did the same. "It's like wearing a brick wall." Scully commented disdainfully, pulling her arms through the sleeves, her eyes red and bloodshot from her short sleep, her auburn hair tangled and disheveled. "I guess it's better than nothing. It's chilly out this morning." Mulder added, taking hold of Scully's hiking pack before she could reach it, securing it on his back. Scully stopped to stare into his dark brown eyes, a hand swinging upward to rest on his shoulder. "Just promise to be careful out there. That goes for the both of us." "We're always careful, Scully." Mulder teased with a glint flashing across his irises. "We've made it this far, haven't we?" Scully didn't comment as she worked on holding back a smile. Mulder grinned inwardly, thinking that sometimes that reaction was even better than an outright laugh. It took her so much energy to make that face, and he knew he loved it. More shots rang out into the forest, Mulder and Scully on each end of the gurney, Lou letting out incoherent groans as he bounced on the backboard as they jogged down the trail. The gray sky had turned salmon, yellow and pink tendrils of light bursting into the sky as the mountains welcomed the sun, animal calls coming to life somewhere hidden deep in the surrounding fog. The grays and blacks were banished from the sky, earth's shadow being swept away by the overwhelming power of the sun. "What in the world are they shooting at?" Scully grimaced, looking ahead toward Mulder's broad, swaying shoulders, his tendons cording in his arms with every quick motion. "Lets hope it's the air." Came Mulder's sarcastic reply, sweat already beading on his brow from the strenuous run to find the hunters. The heavy weight of Lou had already begun burning in his biceps, his determination pushing him forward to complete the task at hand. His nostrils picked up a sweet, pulpy smell of an apple orchard, spotting splashes of bright red in the trees and on the ground. He heard Lou mumble behind him, words crumbling from his mouth in dry, barren chunks. "Limberlost...we're there." "Lou says we're on Limberlost." Scully called from the rear. "I remember reading something about an apple orchard being near the end of it." "That's good to know." Mulder sighed, practically ecstatic knowing they were at least heading in the right direction. He had to slow for a steep slope, hearing Scully straining behind him as they carried Lou upwards, his calves grinding into the ground for a firm hold to prevent him tumbling backwards. As Mulder's eyes reached the top of the slope, his feet stopped suddenly, frozen against the ground. "What is it, Mulder?" Scully called from below. "We've found them, alright, Scully." Came Mulder's chilly response, "And they're not alone." Scully gave a serious nod, climbing to the top of the incline, holding firmly onto Lou's backboard. Mulder inspected the timber line surrounding a flat, grassy field, assessing that their whereabouts were safely hidden as long as they stayed near the line. Out in the field the group of hunters were positioned into an array, some crouching amongst tall stalks of grass, some standing farther back. All of their rifles were positioned and aimed in front of them, their barrels staring down a shady section of the woods, a high cliff of rock rising above it. Behind the hunters stood a lone figure, as still and hard as the mountain behind him, quiet, thoughtful, sharp eyes overseeing the work of the hunters, a thick swirl of gray smoke spiraling into the air from his cigarette. "The Smoking Man?!" Scully hissed, keeping low behind a leafy bush. "What's he doing out here?" "I have a feeling he's making sure Strughold's job gets done right...one way or the other." Mulder muttered through gritted teeth. "I know what's trapped in those trees over there, Scully, and he's not going to get away with it." "Wait a minute, Mulder. I don't like that sound in your voice--what are you planning to do?" Scully asked with concern, catching the familiar wild gleam in her partner's eyes. "I'm going to save Charlie-T." Came the response, Mulder's hand reaching under to coat to touch the butt of his weapon, testing the straps on his backpack. "Oh no you don't." Scully resisted in vain, Mulder hardly listening. "This is what gets us into trouble every time. You'd better start..." "Somebody has to keep Lou safe--I'll be back." Mulder added, moving silently along the brush. "Cover me." Scully bit her lower lip as she drew her gun, letting out a long sigh as her partner disappeared into the brush. Mulder moved in stealth mode, edging the shadowed tree line, grateful for the wet leaves underneath his feet which emitted no sound as he moved. He kept checking the gray silhouette in the field, smoke lazily ascending into the sky, the figure simply standing, watching, unmoving. He strained to catch a glimpse at what the hunters were aiming toward, but his instinct already told him what it was--he knew. Charlie-T was genetic proof that dead cell cloning was possible, of a technology that played God, that created or destroyed any form of life, whether animal or human, at the whim of a flawed human judgment. Suddenly as Mulder made a move to the next tree, he was assaulted from behind, two pairs of hands restraining him and throwing him to the ground. His weapon was quickly unholstered along with his pack, the men pushing him back to his feet and forward into the clearing, each keeping an arm pinned snugly behind his back. "We found him in the trees." The first man called as he pushed Mulder forward against his will, heading straight toward CSM. "Leave him." Came the command as the red glow on his cigarette flickered, being tossed to the ground next to him, taking his time to flatten the butt with the bottom of his shoe. He casually reached into his coat, pulling out a long, unlit Morley, sucking deeply as he produced a orange-red flame from his lighter, gray smoke billowing from the sides of his mouth as well as his nostrils. The two men nodded reluctantly as they left Mulder to move back into position. "Why, Agent Mulder, this certainly is a surprise. Enjoying your trip out to one of the government's finest parks?" "Look, you black-lunged bastard, cut the crap." Mulder angrily spoke, jamming his livid face only inches away from the older man's. "You're not going to get away with this--I'm going to see to it that you don't!" CSM gave a treacherous, conciliatory smile, exhaling a long trail of smoke while observing Mulder closely, his eyes a colder blue than the Arctic Ocean. He paused for several minutes as he dragged a few more times on his cigarette, watching Mulder's anger surge and withdraw like waves crashing against the shore. "Frankly, I'd advise you not to complicate matters." "It's too late for that." Mulder continued, venom evident in his voice. "Call off your firing squad--leave it alone! Just because it was created by you doesn't mean it has to die." CSM blew a smoke ring into the early morning sky, calmly watching it dissolve from sight. He looked back at Mulder, the hard creases around his jowls expressionless as he continued in his neutral tone, "On the contrary, Agent Mulder. This female is a risk to the project. This is the second time she has escaped, and if she falls into the wrong hands, we're defenseless against our own mass extinction. You're jeopardizing the human race, Agent Mulder, how would you like that blame sitting on your shoulders?" Mulder's jaw tightened, turning to look across the field before whipping back around to answer. "Why create three of them?" CSM's lips curled into an amused grimace. "Who says there are only three?" He allowed Mulder to glare at him a moment longer before continuing. "Contrary to what you may believe, Charlie-T is simply a perfection of the technique. It began with a 6-month-old thylacine pup that has been preserved in alcohol since 1866. Three years ago when Dolly the sheep made a breakthrough in science, our scientists were already secretly ahead of the game. Bringing the dead back to life was a matter of when, not if." CSM paused while he inhaled deeply, glancing over to the hunters. He began talking again, smoke rolling on his breath simultaneously. "It was a delicate process, small samples of heart, liver, muscle and bone marrow tissue being extracted from the preserved pup, a team of evolutionary biologists working to unravel the tiger's genetic code, assessing and repairing its DNA. Once the mystery was unlocked, we once again have a powerful tool against colonization. The T-line was simply a creation from a well preserved specimen brought in from an excavation, among others." "You've brought this creature into our time. What gives you and your scientists the right to give it life, to decide when it dies?" Mulder countered, his hazel eyes dark with disgust. "Sacrifice, Agent Mulder." He replied casually, taking another long drag of his cigarette, holding the butt between his index and thumb while contemplating the smoke as it spiraled into the air, "You speak before you understand--eager to jump in and save the world, but with a blindfold over your eyes. Your father used to do the same thing--yyou think that's the best way to go about conquering your enemies? You find the tip of the iceberg and think it's the whole mountain." Mulder opened his mouth to protest as CSM cut in to continue. "This is Charlie-T's second escape. She got the taste of freedom the first time, wanted nothing else afterwards, becoming smarter this second time. It took us four days to find her this time, a serious risk, a risk we cannot take. Each time she adapts more to the terrain, and since we've never had a live dinosaur to study we never realized how smart they truly were--a lot smarter than scientists originally thought. So you see, Agent Mulder, one creature cannot be accountable for the world, whether you like it or not." CSM seemed content with his answer, taking the last, red-hot drag of his Morley before carelessly adding it next to the butt already pulverized into the ground. Mulder heard the metallic flick of a lighter behind him, the stench of smoke invading his nostrils once again. "You're a heartless monster." CSM let out a smoky chuckle. "That's right, Agent Mulder, that's why I have access to any information recorded in the last one thousand years and you're putting silly putty on leaks in the basement." "Lies--it's all lies. All you do is trade in lies." Mulder spat toward the older man, "Once the American public finds out this has been going on behind their backs for fifty years, they'll never trust you. Never!" "But you forget, Agent Mulder, when it comes down to living or dying, where will the people turn? To save themselves is the only thing they will want--no matter the means. The project is larger than you'll ever realize, far larger than one man can ever comprehend. Your attempt to uncover the project has the same value as picking one grain of sand from the beach. It is unstoppable." Mulder's eyes darted over to the woods in the distance, knowing Scully had to have seen him standing there with CSM, wondering what thoughts were going through her mind. "And don't get any funny ideas." CSM added, smiling with evident malice, as if he had read Mulder's mind, "I know your red-headed partner is never far from your side. It's only a matter of time until she's found. You always put in a good effort, Mr. Mulder, I grant you that, but life...is like an expensive restaurant. Sure, you may indulge yourself with a seven course meal of steak, salad, breads, and wine, but there's always that parsley, a perfunctory topping that nobody ever asks for, or a pickle that runs into the other food, souring everything it touches. But...after the delicacies have been tasted and devoured, sooner or later someone always hands you the bill." Mulder's brows furrowed together sharply, shaking his head as a white glimmer against the blue-gray sky caught his eye. It soared like a shooting star above the field, pure, innocent, a master of the air, of weightlessness. The object curved toward him, gliding on the wind with ease, in harmony with the sky itself. Mulder stood still, recognition igniting in his dark eyes at the sight of bright yellow plumage, of Mac's delicate body heading straight toward him. Mac's wings thumped against the air as he made a skilled landing on Mulder's shoulder, his neck stretching his tiny head toward Mulder's coat pocket as a high-pitched call for a "Seed," clucking his beak as if he was getting ready for his morning snack. "Friend of yours?" Came the sarcastic, gravel voice of CSM, blowing a cloud of smoke around his face. Mulder ignored the man's mockery, his eyes darting to the tree line, wishing he could get a glimpse of his partner, but hoping Gil, Dorothy, and George had found her before CSM's hired goons did. He knew they were there, hiding, watching, and had more than likely followed the sound of gunshots just as he and Scully had done earlier. Mac was proof of that. Just then Mac let out a squawk, his plumage standing straight up on his head as his powerful wings allowed his body to make a fast getaway. Mulder turned toward Mac's direction, his eyes catching sight of motion in the woods on the far side of the field. The treetops swayed violently, although the winds were quiet, as something large moved them from the inside. Mulder knew immediately that the only thing large enough to be making such movements could only be one creature. Charlie-T was coming out. ------------------------------ 7:02 AM - SUNDAY BEHIND THE TREELINE SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK ------------------------------ Scully's palms were sweating, the grip on her gun so tight her fingernails were white under the pressure. Her aim was straight on the smoking figure in the distance, her partner only a few feet away. Her ice-blue eyes were sharp and calculating, her finger ready to pull the trigger at any second, her eyes never blinking as she studied the two bodies standing in the field. She had hidden herself and Lou deeper into the underbrush after watching two men drag Mulder out into the open. Not for a second did she underestimate the smoking figure overseeing the entire operation, knowing that it was only common sense that if Mulder was around, she wasn't far behind. It was only a matter of time before they found her. Lou was now awake, staring at the scene silently, staying quiet at Scully's orders. His last dose of morphine was wearing off, but Scully had nothing to offer him since Mulder had taken the hiking pack. When his eyes had caught sight of a flying object drifting through the air, he strained to whisper "Gil" which Scully acknowledged with a nod of her tired face. She attempted to make a visual sweep around the arc of trees, but was unable to see the familiar forms of either Gil, Dorothy, or George. For all she knew, maybe it was just Dorothy and George, still searching for Gil. Yet, deep inside her stomach, she also believed Gil would never be very far from where the hunters were. Her auburn brows knitted together across her forehead as Mac suddenly took flight from Mulder's shoulder, the thrashing of trees from across the field catching her attention, her eyes widening from behind the barrel of her weapon. She felt fear gently creeping into her body as she realized Mulder had been right, Charlie-T was cornered at the end of the field and was about to leash its fury onto them! "Stay down, Lou." Came the automatic response to Scully's lips, her body frozen in position in front of the backboard Lou was laying on. "I'll try not to go anywhere." Came the dry response, but Scully didn't even hear the words, leaning farther through the trees with curiosity, fear lingering under her skin, rushing frantically through her beating heart. The tip of a wing poked through the branches, the skin looking brown and leathery, the size of it alone making Scully's breath catch in her throat. She was amazed by the power, the smooth gracefulness as it sliced through the branches with ease as if it were simply slicing through the air. Her eyes couldn't fathom that they were truly watching a dinosaur, an animal that had never been seen in motion by man, an animal that didn't understand man's intention to use its own life as an experiment, it's only reason for the life it breathed into its body. Scully's hands were furiously shaking, the gun wobbling in her hand, blurring before her eyes. Charlie-T was attempting an escape, the visible wing flapping furiously through the trees. It only took her a moment to realize the other wing was not synchronizing with the one they all could see, in fact, it wasn't working at all. Charlie- T's wing had been injured, and now she was trapped by the men who had created her, who were trying to conceal freedom from her. Scully knew this was a time on earth that Charlie-T was not meant to walk on, to exist in, and she was wild, alone, terrified. "Finish the job!" Echoed CSM's heartless voice across the dew covered field, hunters jumping to attention at the command. Scully let out a gasp, feeling as if CSM's words had suddenly jumped down her throat and grabbed her heart with a tight fist. The events were happening too fast, her thoughts racing to catch up as if the finish line was in sight, with only one faster sprinter dashing in front. Always one step ahead--impossible to catch even in giving her heart over to the race. It was then that she saw Charlie-T's elongated face break through the leafy green foliage, its jaws raw power in itself, eyes blacker than night staring them down, daring its foes to fight. It stood at least two stories off the ground, a giant shadow spreading like molten lava across the rich green of the field. It was a muddy brown color, its skin shiny, yet weathered looking in the early morning sun. The earth rumbled a low frequency bass with every step it took, its eyes blazing with fearlessness, strength, courage. Scully's jaw was hanging limply from her face, Lou absolutely in awe behind her. Even the hunters had paused, unsure whether to stay or to run for their lives, literally trembling in their boots. Scully could see her partner, standing stone-still against the backdrop of mountain peaks behind him. The only one in the field not phased was the lone figure in the shadows, smoke trailing in swirls around him. Charlie-T's head swiveled to the side, as if staring straight into Scully's eyes, daring her to move. The gun dropped from her startled hands, the terror of coming face-to-face with such a ferocious creature stopping gestures only begun. Her skin was pricked with a stab of blind terror as Charlie-T turned its body toward them, toward the tree line, it's legs moving furiously across the earth, each footfall shaking the very foundation of the mountain. It was coming straight toward them! Scully automatically jumped backwards, falling right over Lou's now- panicked body, landing flat on her back. "We gotta' move...we gotta' move..." Lou chanted again and again, his voice hoarse with fright, not caring that Scully had fallen across his injured body. His fear had overpowered his senses, survival being the only thought in his mind as his own helplessness sent a jolt of terrorized panic through his body. Scully was already clumsily scrambling to her feet, her eyes never leaving the enormous creature barreling down upon them. "Oh, shhh..." was all she could muster from her lips, grabbing an end of the backboard and started pulling with all of her strength. "Faster...faster!" Lou hollered at the top of his lungs, his hands squeezing along the sides of the backboard in a death grip, his teeth grinding together painfully. Scully let out a scream, the creature closing in on them fast--35 yards...30 yards...25...20... "You fools!" Came CSM's bark across the field, "Don't let it get away!" It was then the hunters made a bold leap to their feet, rifles pointed and ready in shuddering hands. "Noooooo!!!!" Came a scream from the edge of the tree line only twenty yards away from Scully and Lou, the tone of voice an almost wail, a sound only made from the deepest passages of emotion, a mixture of rage, of fear, of love, of devotion. A sound made by the actual soul itself. It was Gil. His body made a gigantic leap from behind the trees and onto the field, his legs carrying him at superhuman speed, his arms waving frantically above his head. He was heading straight toward Charlie- T, sprinting like a weightless stalk in the wind in an attempt to save the beautiful bird before him. Scully could hear Mulder screaming anything he could think of, a compilation of panicked yells to stop the hunters, mixed together with Scully's own yells as she dived forward out into the field, Dorothy and George jumping into view farther down. Their calls to Gil were futile. Their calls were too late. The rifles had already crackled through the air, pounding one after the other in a symphony of death, destruction, and despair. The sickening rolls of thunder rocked across the still earth, crashing into Scully's ears as her eyes silently watched Gil disappear amongst the shoots of grass, Charlie-T stopping to roll onto its side, emitting a deafening shriek that stilled the mountains, her wing thrashing furiously. The shots finally stopped, the hunters rooted in place as smoke powdered and whirled above their heads. Scully didn't waste a second to rush forward at lightning speed, heading straight for the area she had last seen Gil, her heart pounding with ferocity in her chest while her lungs burned with her rapid breath. A glimpse of blue jeans only made her move faster, her legs blindly tearing through the tall stalks of grass, the tender blades squashing beneath her steps. Gil had landed very close to Charlie-T, the two only about twenty feet away from each other, the bird's head lying quietly on the earth, it's dark eyes watching with fear as Scully approached. Her stomach contracted upon itself at the sight of bright red tributaries oozing across Gil's western shirt, diving to her knees next to him, her hands working quickly to rip the shirt open, fingertips immersing in the warm, sticky liquid. "Gil, can you hear me?" She called to him, her voice strained with concern, her fingers working fast, assessing at least two gunshot wounds in his abdomen, one in his leg. The older man's face was the color of moon dust, sputtering and coughing to breathe as a sickening red trickle flowed from the corner of his mouth. His gray eyes stared at her with terror as his shirt fell to each side of him, a red geyser flowing from his stomach. "Dammit!" Scully cursed heatedly, throwing her palm across the gushing wound. She only knew too well where Gil had been hit, and as Gil's head fell back across the ground, he knew the inevitable truth as well. "Someone call the paramedics immediately!" The hunters had lowered their guns, forming a semi-circle near Gil and Scully, each of them frozen to their spots. Scully looked up at them, irritated that no one had made a motion to her request, her blue eyes livid with fire. "Now!" One of them finally made a nervous fumble for his walkie-talkie, Scully turning her attention back to Gil, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, leaving a horizontal streak of red across the white of her skin. "They're getting help, Gil, hang in there." Scully made a feeble attempt to reassure the injured birdlover, continuing to hold her hands firmly across his seared flesh, red pooling through her fingers, splattering droplets across her chest. Gil adamantly squeezed his eyes shut, a rumble of pain coursing through his chest as he tried to speak, his hand inching determinedly toward Scully's, grabbing her attention as his slick, wet hand fell upon her own. His head turned to the side, his eyes staring almost directly into Charlie-T's left eye, continuing to cough as he managed to breath "...so beautiful...so..." "I know, I know." Scully spoke with a shudder, reaching over to cradle behind Gil's head, leaning down toward him as hot lead squeezed between her eyelashes. "She *is* beautiful." Gil seemed content with Scully's statement, his lungs gurgling for breath as he attempted to speak again, his gray eyes wild with words trying to escape. "T-Take care of...of..." Scully waited patiently, feeling tears making hot tracks down her cheeks, never looking away. "...of...our feathered friends." Scully nodded quickly, her words wobbling from her lips slowly, "There is a lot of love in your camp, Gil, you created something special, something real and beautiful that no one can ever duplicate. No one will ever forget...ever." Gil squeezed his hand harder against hers, a smile in his eyes as he mouthed the words 'thank you,' his hand then releasing from Scully's grasp, stretching out toward Charlie-T, reaching, inviting, loving. As Scully observed Gil's joining act between himself and this wild prehistoric bird next to him, she realized the fear of fear, of something dark and undefined between man and beast, didn't come close to the concrete fear of dying by the choice of a human being, of the greediness for life that awaited in man's very hand. The bridges between animal and man were soldered together in death, both moving to an unknown place together, their eyes locking as one into the long sleep of eternity. Scully rose to her feet from the still form below, her arms damp to the elbow, clothes covered in random swirls of dark and bright reds. Tears she had saved to be cried alone fell across her cheeks, for Gil, for Beth, for a devotion and love that never failed them, even in death. For a kindred spirit, a peace and harmony with the world only few ever possessed. Above, a lone white figure circled through the air. "Imbeciles! This wasn't supposed to happen!" CSM yelled in a rage, striding across the field and into the semi-circle of hunters, smoke whirling around him in dizzying patterns. Scully turned to face the weather-worn, leathery face of the older man, staring coldly into his blue eyes. She hated him, and the fear and hatred together dried her mouth, her chest, her throat. It was as if the smoldering embers of his cigarette had passed through her and left her like a field of stubble, inside and out. "What do you want done with the witnesses?" Questioned on of the men. CSM took a long drag as his steel-colored eyes looked at Scully, to Mulder who had just reached Scully's side, to Dorothy and George standing at the trees. "Let them live. No one will ever believe them." "I swear to God you're going to fry in the electric chair you black- lunged son of a bitch!" Mulder threatened angrily, making a lunge toward the older man, the hunters warding him away. "You can't hide the truth forever!" CSM's turned up in a sardonic smile. "I already have, Agent Mulder." That's life, he seemed to be saying. "Burn everything!" Two men grabbed Scully's arms, hearing the muffled calls from her partner as she struggled, "What are you doing...get off..." and suddenly the world came crashing down into black. ----------------------------------- 10:12 AM – 27 HOURS LATER - MONDAY SKYHIGH BIRD CAMP SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK ----------------------------------- A squeaky screen door flung open, the wood making a sharp whack against the wall behind it. Mulder's eyes fluttered, his pupils focusing through the fuzzy bars of his eyelashes, feeling monumental pain radiating from the back of his skull. A moving form from across the room grabbed his attention as his limbs stirred, hearing the thick southern drawl of Big John echo into his ears. "Hell of'a night you done had. You and that purty lady-friend of yours are the talk of the camp. Sure is a terrible shame about Gil's accident. Real sad." "Wha...wait..." Mulder mumbled, his tongue thick, his mouth dry, realizing he was lying in his bed in his cabin. "What...how did I get here?" "Shoot, you was just suddenly here yesterday morning." Came the reply as the rotund man busied himself with packing his suitcase. "But...yesterday?" Mulder started to speak, slowly sitting up as his hands automatically moved to each side of his head, "Ow!" "Yep, you got a big'un on your 'ol ticker." Big John continued to chatter, "Andrew done said he ain't never seen a bump that big before." Mulder looked down at his grimy clothes, the sight of flaking, dry mud instantly flashing his memory back to the long, dark night he and Scully had spent out in the woods. Of finding another part of a government conspiracy, of saving Lou...of his partner and himself finding each other. "What do you mean Gil's accident?" "You were there—-them hunters thought he was a deer and shot 'em in the stomach. Such a shame." "No, no, that's not how it happened." Mulder protested, throwing his legs over the side of the bed in a fury, jumping up. Immediately they both heard a quick snap, Mulder letting out a yell as he grabbed his foot. "Hey, looky there, haven't caught a single mouse with those things, but at least they work." Big John went on, a bundle of flannels in his hands as he carried them from the closet back to his suitcase. "I've been sleeping for a day?" Mulder continued impatiently, inspecting his injured toe. "Out cold. Haven't seen a hide nor hair of your lady-friend neither." Big John spoke, giving his red beard a scratch with his fingers as if in thought. It looked like Big John was about to make a connection on how strange it was that they both had been sleeping for an entire day, but instead he just gave his head a shake, focusing on packing. The sickened feeling growing exponentially in the pit of his stomach was something that Mulder had experienced many times before. It was practically normal, he mused, that when he and his partner had hard evidence right in their hands, it never failed to vanish without a trace, get covered up, cleaned up, removed, evaporated into thin air. He was slowly unraveling what had taken place since the moment in the field, when CSM's men had grabbed him and Scully, had given them a blow to the backs of their heads so they wouldn't be able to cause trouble. They had been out of the picture, CSM and his men having plenty of time to erase the last four days from ever existing...that is, all except for witnesses. Of course, for a case ending with the discovery of a living, breathing dinosaur, he knew it would be ridiculed without any sort of proof to back it up. They had buried the truth, preserved the lies, and all at the cost of two innocent lives. Mulder rushed to his feet, tossing off his mud-stained coat, not caring that he was equally coated in brown underneath. "Thanks, Big John." His voice called behind him, already sprinting out the door and into the golden, warm sunlight. The camp was unusually quiet that morning, the lush, green grounds almost barren of people as Mulder moved in between the dark, oak cabins. With a glance over his shoulder to the lodge, he could see fuzzy images of people out by the river and rocking in chairs out on the lodge porch. He paid little heed to them as continued to sprint toward Scully's cabin, the stiff muscles in his legs letting him know their objections. "Oh thank my lucky stars...Henry!" Came the call of an elderly voice he recognized only too well, turning to see Dorothy's tiny frame running toward him from the edge of the lake, her bony hand waving in air like a delicate leaf. "Dorothy! What in the world is going on around here?" Mulder asked, his voice filled with concern as he stopped for her. "What happened?" "Oh, Henry...you don't mind if I call you that? I know your partner told me your real name, but this old lady is used to calling you Henry now. That was a dirty trick you pulled on us, being agents undercover, but you sure had me fooled! No one else but George and Lou knows--we're trying to keep this as low profile as possible for the campers." Mulder smiled wanly. "No problem--I don't mind being Henry for another day." Dorothy nodded, placing a tiny arm on Mulder's forearm as her voice lowered drastically. "It was just awful--a horrible mess up there on the mountain. George and I were so frightened when the men hit you with their guns, but they didn't do the same to us. I guess a little old man and woman were harmless in their eyes. But they took us out of there as fast as possible, putting us in the back of this jeep, sending Lou off to the hospital. They brought us here like the whole last day had never happened at all. Yet, we saw it, we saw it all, Henry, and it's something this old lady will never ever forget...nor George, nor Lou." "They're pure evil." Mulder spoke gravely, "They think they know how to run the world, keep their secrets among themselves, the cost of lives nothing to them compared to their precious information. But you're right, Dorothy, we know the truth, and one day it will finally be exposed for the whole world to see." "I hope so too, Henry." Dorothy nodded sadly, "We tried to follow their tracks, Lou telling us a pretty wild story, but he swore it was the truth--giving us the 'ol ranger's honor." She gave Mulder a quick wink. "George, Nigel, and I drove across the border to West Virginia, looked for this mining company Lou had mentioned where this had all started. But when we found it, there wasn't a trace of anything left. We were afraid of that, the way that man acted up there was evil in a form I've never seen before and hope to never see again. A beast hiding in the poet." Mulder nodded his brown head, adding with urgency, "I've got to get to Scully...Kate...whatever." A soft smile crossed Dorothy's lips. "She's already awake, Henry, and she's been helping us all morning. She's been such a comfort to the camp during these sad times--she's been eager for you to wake up." Mulder smiled at the mere thought of his partner, his eyes making an automatic sweep across the camp in an attempt to find a glimpse of familiar auburn hair. "Come on, I'll take you to her." Dorothy added, holding out her elbow for Mulder to escort her down the path, his arm linking with hers as they walked. "Lou has made you and your partner real heroes around here—tellin' all sorts of stories. As for what really happened out there, we decided to keep it between us. There will come a time when it'll be right to let it be known, but these campers don't need to hear tales about pre-historic birds--they're shaken up as it is." "I totally agree." Mulder added. "We're having Beth and Gil's memorial service today." Dorothy's wrinkled chin pointing up ahead at the edge of the lake. "Those scoundrels returned Gil cremated..." "More evidence destroyed." Mulder gritted through his teeth. "...quite true, but at least that was what Gil had wanted in his will. As for Beth, the dear soul, her parents had a funeral in Virginia Beach, but she will still be remembered in today's vigil." Mulder nodded quietly. The river bank bristled with campers young and old, ducks scurrying amongst their feet searching for an accidentally dropped piece of food. Rangers were dressed in starched uniforms while standing next to the lapping waters of the lake, helping the mourners set their candles adrift, a multitude of flickering, orange flames already bobbing on the water's surface. "George looks like he's having a little trouble with one of the flower arrangements," Dorothy spoke up, nodding her head toward the elderly man as he was slowly dragging an enormous vase filled with delicate white lily's across the grounds. "I'm going to go help the old coot." Mulder gave Dorothy a warm smile, watching her walk gracefully through the crowds, her gray hairs curling and fluttering along the side of her face. He turned back toward the crowd, the sun elbowing its shafts of golden light between bodies, the sky clear and blue above them. He noticed a lot of people had gathered for Gil and Beth's memorial, more than just the campers at Skyhigh. He had no doubt Gil had befriended the locals from the neighboring mountains and towns, and they had come from all over Virginia to be there. As he moved between the bodies, he finally saw a familiar red-head, although it was far from his partner. Andrew was sitting cross-legged in the center of a circle, a group of boys pressed close around him while he talked. His freckled cheeks were moving a mile a minute, the others intently listening as if they were hearing wise speaker who was telling them the secret of life. "...and he done jumped right on top of the grizzly bear and wrestled 'em with his bare hands. He done saved Lou's life, but the bear turned on him and done hit him on the back of his head wit' one of its gigantic claws. That's how he got that bump--seen it with my own eyes in my cabin. He was all muddy too, the 'ol bear really wallowed him in the dirt." "Whoa." Came the chorus of boys. Mulder could hardly contain himself from smiling. So maybe besides being a professional at torture, Mulder thought, Andrew now had a new niche. "What's it like sleepin' next to a hero?" Another boy had asked as Mulder walked past, Andrew starting in on another story. Mulder moved to the lake's edge, the water trickling gently against the earthen bank as a brown-clad ranger handed him a plastic lily pad, giving him a respectful nod. Mulder returned the gesture as he turned to light the candle on one of the torches, the wick coming to life with bright red and oranges. He paused at the waters, candle cupped in his palms, looking back on the true hero he had met only days ago. Gil had been a man utterly devoted to a cause, not afraid to show the world his love for animals, making them equals with human life in his eyes. He had been willing to risk his life to save another, the cost not too high in his eyes, and had ultimately left a legacy with his camp, in his campers, to teach others how to love the tiny...and large-winged souls of the world. Even in the three days Mulder had known him, he knew he had been touched as well, touched personally in the fact that Gil and he were very much alike in so many ways, and the important priorities had to come first. As he released his candle across the waters, he felt a stiffening of attention race through his spine and down into his chest, the tingle of a sudden connection dancing underneath his skin. Without even looking, he knew his partner was behind him, waiting for him. He quickly turned, the dark depths of his eyes connecting with Scully's crystal blue ones, a hint of a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. Although he was still smudged with mud, his clothes practically passing for a ranger's uniform, Scully's skin gleamed bright and soft in the warm tendrils of sun, her hair flowing from her scalp like a river of fire, eyes open wide and inviting. Next to her sat Lou in a wheelchair, each leg in a concrete white cast, signatures of blue, black, and other bright colors already decorating them. His top half was clad in his ranger's uniform, Mulder assuming the bottom half wouldn't fit for a while. Behind him stood the blonde Adonis Mulder only knew too well, wheeling around his friend with two brawny arms, white teeth flashing every few seconds as if a camera were going off. Mulder moved forward as if his body was being magnetized, powerless against a force he never intended to stop. He took quick steps up the bank, watching Scully question, wonder, search for confirmation with her eyes, hoping their night out in the woods, their pivoting moment at Dark Hollow Falls had been real, the truth, and not forgotten between them as the moment in the hallway had been. He didn't hesitate to step close to her, his hands arcing around her tiny form, feeling her immediate warm response in return. "I'm so glad you're okay." Scully spoke, her voice warm against his chest, ignoring the muddy shirt as if it didn't exist at all. "I feel the same way." Mulder replied honestly, placing a feathery kiss on the top of Scully's sweet-smelling hair. "Thank you so much...Mr...ah..." Lou began to speak gratefully. "Henry is fine." Mulder smiled. "...Henry. If it wasn't for you and Kate, I would have still been out in those woods. The doctors said my chances were slim on making it another day, so I really can't thank you enough. I owe you my life." Mulder broke his hold around Scully, smiling down upon Lou's silver- white hair and sky-blue eyes. "There's no need to thank us--it's what we're supposed to do. And besides..." he added, leaning closer, "...no matter what Scully says, we like it." "'Like' is such a strong word though." Came Scully's amused reply. Lou smiled. "I just wish this had a happier ending, but I know Gil well enough to know he doesn't want us to be sad for him. Whenever we had a bird die, Gil would always say that it wasn't his end, but simply a beginning for all of eternity. A celebration of life in the sky forever." Mulder noticed Scully make a reach for her cross she wore around her neck after Lou's statement, suddenly speaking up, "Oh! I almost forgot something. You stay right here--I'll be right back." Mulder was disappointed as Scully left his arms, eager for her to return as he watched her tiny form weave through the crowd and make a bee-line for the cabins. "So what happens now?" "Dorothy didn't tell you?" Lou asked, a smile twisting on his face, continuing as Mulder shook his head no. "Well, turns out Gil had talked with Dorothy years ago about taking care of Mac if anything ever happened to him, to which she wholeheartedly agreed to. Although this camp is government property, Gil had created this place such a long time ago he also had a share in it, so in the will reading yesterday, he left this whole place to Mac." "No, seriously." Mulder burst in with a chuckle. "Seriously." Lou grinned. "Gil always leaves his mark, even if he can't be here in person. Basically, since Dorothy is the caretaker of Mac, she's now in charge of the place. It's just a matter of getting everything squared away." Mulder grinned ruefully. "Well I can't think of a better person to take charge." "Yeah, she's going to be great." Paul spoke up in his husky voice. "And even though I have to wait a few months to recuperate, not to mention physical therapy, I'll be staying on staff as a ranger here." Lou added, "I love this place. I couldn't leave if I wanted to." Mulder looked up when he caught a glimpse of his partner in his peripheral vision, an object clutched in her hands as she made her way back into the crowd, her head disappearing for a moment before she appeared next to them, huffing to catch her breath. "Lou," She spoke, "I have something that belongs to you." Lou's light brows moved into a V across his forehead, curiously observing a bright, bird-covered book as Scully passed it into his hands. "While Beth may not have had a chance to tell you in person, her words, her thoughts, her feelings still live in here. She wrote of only her trips to the camp in here, you, this place, being what really made her feel alive, the other parts of her life simply blank pages in between. I know she would have wanted this to go to you." Lou swept his hand across the front of the journal as if it were a delicate treasure that would suddenly disappear if he made one wrong move. His eyes twitched at the corners as he opened the cover, mumbling quietly to himself, "Tennyson." He looked back to Scully and Mulder. "I owe you both my life...twice." Scully smiled warmly, Lou visibly touched by the gesture as he looked back to the pages, caressing the words with his eyes. "I see everyone has found each other." Dorothy's voice funneled into the group, the tiny woman appearing with George, Mac riding quietly on her shoulder. The white bird eyed Mulder curiously, suddenly making a leap onto his shoulder. Dorothy gave a chuckle. "That's the most action I've seen him do in the last two days. He needs a lot of attention right now...I think he's a little depressed. The poor little guy has been through a lot." Scully grinned. "I think he likes you, Henry." Mulder stared into the tiny black eyes, Mac cocking his head to the side to return the look. He reached into his shirt pocket, finding two seeds jammed down into the corner, offering them to the bird. Mac stared for a few minutes before finally clicking his beak, nimbly reaching down and grabbing a seed, Mulder popping the other one into his mouth. "Okay, so maybe other animals besides fish are alright after all." Everyone smiled as Dorothy turned, George letting out a "hmph" as they watched the elderly woman move to the front of the crowd, keeping his arm resting comfortably on Scully's shoulders. Dorothy called for everyone's attention, the multitude of people quieting at her request. She introduced herself and talked about her first meeting with Gil, moving into the long ten-year friendship they had had together, and about the friendship she had made with Beth. "And today we remember their spirits and their love for the birds. Gil put his heart and soul into this camp, something we will never forget. As you know, he kept sick and injured birds in his aviary, healing them with his touch, teaching them to live again in the wilds. He had a love for birds that ran far deeper into his soul than anyone I've ever met, so today, when we scatter his ashes across his beautiful camp, he will be joined once again with his birds." On that note, Dorothy picked up an urn, covered in sculpted birds, giving her head a nod to an unknown recipient behind the crowd. There was a moment of silence before Mulder's ears picked up the harmonious symphony of birdcalls behind him. He turned in the direction along with the crowd, noticing tiny, burning bright bodies of life transforming into a cloud in the sky, soaring through the opened hatches in the aviary. They traveled all the way into the heavens, swirling, gliding, diving amongst the tiny brown snowflakes Dorothy had released into the wind. Their calls were a heavenly chorus of pitches and patterns, a thankfulness for the one who had healed them, who had given them a second chance for life on earth. Bodies of brown, red, yellow, white, blue, and black danced across the wind, floating, flying higher into the sky, becoming one with the vast blue heavens. Gil was floating with them, an eternal flight with the ones he loved, cherished. His paradise in the sky. Scully was cushioned against Mulder's side, her eyes traveling through the air with his, the touch of her reminding him that they were together, close, comforting, comforted. --------------------- 3:58 PM - SUNDAY RT. 29 BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS --------------------- "It sure was nice of Dorothy to offer us a free stay for whenever we wanted to come back." Scully spoke casually as she studied a map in her lap, the engine of the Ford sedan humming loudly as its wheels hugged the tight mountain curves carefully. Mulder nodded, one hand on the wheel while the other was hanging up his Tweety bird air freshener, a glint in his hazel eyes. "We have to turn right or left up here, Scully, which way?" Scully looked up from the map, a teasing gleam in her eyes, "You should know. As I remember, you're always right when you're driving...and look, now you're driving." She could see Mulder attempting to make a subtle glance at the map in her hands, her phone suddenly ringing, startling them both. "Scully." Scully answered, putting the phone up to her ear, Mulder giving her sidelong glances, trying to figure out who she was talking to. "Agent Scully," Came the masculine, sharp tone across the line, "This is Skinner. I'm reviewing this report you faxed me about an hour ago...what is this, Agent? Is this Mulder's idea of a sick joke? Because if it is, I'm not laughing." Scully's eyes darted over to her partner. "What exactly are you referring to?" "You put down that you lost almost $2000 dollars of equipment because...and I quote, 'a dinosaur swooped down and attacked us.' You expect me to turn this in to my bosses?! Where's Mulder? Get him on the line--I want to speak to him!" "It's for you." Scully said coolly, the phone dangling in her hand. "Who is it?" Mulder mouthed to her, "Skinner? I'm not here." Scully nodded, returning the phone to her ear. "He says he's not here, sir." Mulder made a grimace, shooting her partner a wounded look. She could hear Skinner's blood boil. "The *minute* you two get back to Washington I want you both in my office. Understood?" "Yes, sir." Scully answered, hanging up the phone. "Well...what did he say?" Mulder asked curiously. "He didn't like your wording on the expense report." Scully answered, a chuckle escaping from her throat. "Sure, laugh now, but wait until we get into his office." Mulder mused, a smile touching his lips. Scully smiled out the passenger window of the car, trees whirling by in a green blur, her reflection simply a shadow on the glass. "You know, it really is beautiful out here. I'm going to miss it." "Well, you know, Dark Hollow Falls has become that one special place we'll go to in thirty years and sit by to reminisce." Scully snorted, "Thirty years, huh? Mulder, I've never known you to plan a week ahead much less that long." Mulder turned his head to the side as if in thought. "Maybe, but I still plan to investigate that Jell-o." Scully secretly smiled inwardly, excited by the prospects of what lay ahead for them. "And since you brought it up," Mulder spoke with a twinkle in his eye, "I hear people have spotted Stonewall Jackson's ghost in the Buckhorn for the last fifty years. Now that sounds like a great X- File too." "Don't even think about it." Scully immediately cut in, reaching down into the floor to her bag. "I made sure I was prepared for the next time you mentioned taking me for a nice trip to the forest." "Why, Scully, I...Scully!" An evil grin twisted on Scully's lips as she pulled out a very familiar green and blue Tsunami Super-Soaker. "It's amazing what you can trade for ah...what was it...'sensitive information'?" Mulder looked very uncomfortable in his seat, his broad shoulders stiffening "Ah, you know, on second thought, this car rental will be due back in soon--we should just head straight on back." Scully nodded, a satisfied grin on her face as she leaned back into her seat, turning on the radio. <<...blueberry hill...it lingered until...my dream came true.>> Scully let out a moan of protest, feeling Mulder's grin return. "Alright, Mulder, now lets discuss the nature of where that 'Virginia is for Lovers' shirt came from." "Scully, I don't know what you're talking about..." A loud whir sounded across the car, the car making a sudden jerk across the road, the radio continuing to blare... <<...oh, you were my thrill...on blueberry hill.>> ------------------------------------- 4:06 PM – SUNDAY SOMEWHERE IN SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK ...IN THE NEST -------------------------------------- Deep inside the tangled web of trees and rock, amongst Shenandoah's island of solitude and beauty, a sound echoed in the mist, silencing the wildlife in the immediate area. Birds squawked a call of danger, flapping through the trees, leaving only silence behind. The crackle of a breaking shell snapped across the wooded land, piece by piece of it breaking away, hatching from the shadows into the sunlight, a new life waiting to be heard. END ------------------------------------------------------------ I'd love to hear what you thought! Feedback is welcomed at hidinginthelight@hotmail.com Thanks for reading! :o)