From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: The Abductee 11a/21 by Windsinger
Date: 28 Jul 1995 01:23:30 -0400


THE ABDUCTEE  (11/21) 
by S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com) 
7/27/95

This story is based on the characters created by Chris Carter, Ten
Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. Used without permission
and no infringement is intended. Thanks guys, for creating this marvelous
stuff.
Imitation is the highest form of flattery.  

Copyright 1995 by S. Esty

Chapter 11

Monday 11:15pm
Somewhere

      Fox Mulder woke slowly and he was so comfortable that he thought
dreamily about how easy it would be to just slide back into sleep. His
ever faithful sixth sense, however, nudged his brain and then he
remembered.  Somewhere in the quiet dark house he could hear an old
wind up clock.  Other than that mechanical sound, unnaturally and
relentlessly regular, the silence was complete. There were not even
any noises coming from outside the house. It was too late in the year
for crickets and the house was far from any regularly traveled
roads. Following the loud ticking, he found the clock's luminous dial
shining dimly on the dresser. By squinting, he guessed it was about
11:15.  Almost the witching hour, he thought dryly.

      Then he realized there was another sound... the regular light
sighing of a woman as she slept nearby. He turned his head ever so
quietly. He had slept warmly under sheet, blanket and quilt. Angela
lay on her side beside him, on top of that same quilt but fully
dressed, as if she had meant to lay down only for a moment.

      Fox took a long breath, concentrating, taking stock of how he
was doing physically. The natural, undrugged sleep had done him
good. His head was relatively clear, though he was still light-headed
from having been ill, and the room did not move around him, irritating
defying the laws of gravity, as it had done. Best, he was no longer
nauseous, though his stomach muscles still quivered, as if deeply
bruised. But he was thirsty, that more then anything. With infinite
care, taking minutes, he extracted himself from under the covers to
crouch on fingers and toes on the floor beside the bed. He hunched
there for a long time, silent and listening and waiting for the slight
dizziness to leave him.  Her breathing did not alter. He had seen
before that she was tired. If she felt safe here, she should sleep
soundly.
 
      For a few minutes he tried to find his gun on her side of the
bed, but, finally, he abandoned the search as being too perilous. She
could still have it in her hand, the hand that lay covered by the
skirt of her dress. Still feeling too unsteady to stand, Fox kept low,
half crawling toward the faint grey rectangle which had to be the door
to the hallway. The small house could have only a few rooms, a living
room, kitchen and maybe two bedrooms. He thought about closing the
bedroom door, but feared a groaning hinge would wake *her*.

      He considered his options as he crept through the still house,
trying to be silent, testing each board before putting his weight down
on a hand or knee or bare foot. If he found the car keys, could he
drive? Maybe, for a little way.  Far enough. If not that, escaping on
foot was better than staying here, but the night was cold and he was
nearly naked, wearing only his shorts and a t-shirt, and he had no
idea how far this house was from its nearest neighbor. A phone call to
Scully, though, was his first thought. She was ever his lifeline.  He
could not even count the number of times that she had been there to
see him safely home. Fox knew he should have called her the day
before, regardless of what had happened and damn the WPP, but the
world had looked so bleak then. Now it was just dangerous. Dangerous
he was used to.
  
      In the shadowy living room he found an old rotary dial phone. He
hissed between his teeth. Even if the phone worked, dialing would be
slow and would make a harsh noise in the stillness. Then he remembered
he had not the slightest idea where he was. The Bureau hot line or 911
could trace the call. From her apartment Scully could not, but he had
gone his life without thinking always very logically and he would not
start now. Scully's voice was what he wanted to hear. Only hers.

      As he lifted up the phone to bring it back behind the arm of the
couch, he saw that a small book lay under it. In the dim, blue
moonlight which streamed in from the window he read 'Spencerville and
Rappahannock County' on the cover. It was a local phone book, not much
of an address, but something.  He knew only that Rappahannock was a
small rural county in the Appalachian foothills of Virginia. He
crouched down with the phone, keeping the arm of the couch between
himself and the door to the bedrooms. Dialing was slow, as he had to
ease the dial of the phone back after entering each number. The clicks
from the dial, as the rotors moved forward and back, sounded loud to
his wary ears.  His fingers shook for he had gone days now, with the
exception of Sunday, without being able to keep much food down. From
the parched, vile feel of his mouth, he guessed he was also badly
dehydrated.

      Only when he had dialed the last digit, and brought the receiver
up to his ear, did Fox wonder if she would be there. She could be at
Evan's. He shut his eyes against that thought and concentrated on the
fact that at least he would get her answering machine. After three
rings, with disappointment so physical his throat constricted with the
pain, he heard the machine click and then the beginning syllables of
the recorded message he could repeat by heart. Then she was a Evan's,
he thought, and his stomach made a queasy turn which was due to more
than his recent illness.

                                     ***

      Dana Scully walked wearily towards the door of her
apartment. She had not wanted Evan to come up, so had asked him to
leave her at the building's security door. She had talked to him very
little on the way home from the abandoned safe house. Skinner knew and
that was enough.  Sleepily, she fumbled in her purse for her keys. She
still had not found them when she heard the phone begin to ring.
                                     ***

      Mulder waited impatiently for the message to complete. <Why did
she have to talk so long?> With only a few words of the message to go
he heard the recording stop, the line crackle and a voice, her living
voice, anxious and slightly out of breath, came to him. "Hello?"

      His insides quivered. He hesitated, trying to calm his voice,
his mouth suddenly too dry. The house was so silent and dark around
him, so full of shadows, he felt inexplicably like a little boy doing
something he was not supposed to do after his parents had gone to bed,
knowing he would be punished if they found out.

      "Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked again with more worry than
irritation in that voice he knew so well.

      "S-Scully," he was finally able to croak.

      There was hesitation on the line then, "Mulder!" The greeting
leaped at him, the emotions that he hear in that voice made him shiver
again with a pleasure he had not realized he had missed. He heard
relief and concern, fear and happiness. For a moment, he could not
swallow, and emotion made his chest so tight, that he was unable to
speak. <Scully, help me. I need you.>

      "Mulder, where are you?"

      "Scul-" Fox began, but at that moment a dark shape rose up, like
a thunder cloud from the shadows beyond the end of the couch, the
figure releasing a shriek of rage. Angela's kick caught him solidly
under the chin, throwing him backwards, knocking over the lamp which
went crashing. Mulder cried out in surprise and pain as he lost his
hold on the phone which Angela, sweeping down, snatched up at the same
time she savagely jerked the cord out of the wall.

      "How dare you!" She shrieked in panic mixed with fury, almost in
tears.  "Now they know where we are!"

      As he struggled to untangle his long limbs, she swung the phone
with both hands and it impacted with the side of this skull. He felt a
sickening blast of pain and blackness closed in.

                                     ***

      Dana stood in her dark empty apartment, panting from the
adrenalin that had flooded her system as she had struggled with the
unwilling key, the door, raced for the phone - and heard his
voice. The receiver now lay silent in her hand. She stood with her
eyes tightly closed, wanting to scream out her despair and anger, as
she had heard the woman on the phone scream... for she had heard her
name breathed in a hoarse whisper from his lips. Mulder was alive. He
had reached out to her, touched her fleetingly, like fingertips
brushing as they passed in the dark, and then he had been ripped from
her. Alone, Dana sank down on the floor, clutching the dead phone. He
needed her and she did not know where to find him.

                                     ***

Tuesday 7am
FBI Headquarters

      The twenty desks in the FBI's communications center were all
manned.  The place was euphemistically called the Bullpen, but in
these early morning hours it hummed rather than bellowed. Phones rang,
agents bustled, but voices were uncharacteristically low. So low... as
if everyone spoke in whispers, walked on tip toe. It was an odd sound,
unlike the excitement of a typical investigation on overdrive. For
this was not a typical investigation. No faceless stranger was being
searched for here, no violent, soulless criminal, who for society's
sake should never have been born. No black humor here. They were
searching for one of their own, and Dana Scully sat in the center of
it, eyes dark and chill as ice.

      They had called her the Snow Queen at the academy - cold,
emotionless - totally focused upon her career. That was before she had
been teamed up with Fox Mulder, that was before she had discovered her
soul. Now she pulled the old coldness back around her again, shut out
the tears and anger and despair, found a center of dead calm from
which she could still function.

      Fox Mulder's cry in the night finally got the matter the
attention Scully, in her heart, had believed from the beginning that
it deserved. She only prayed they would not be too late.



      Hours earlier, having cast aside the useless phone, Dana had
knelt on the floor of her apartment and finally allowed the wrenching
sobs she had held all week to take her and cleanse her for what she
knew would be the long job ahead.

      Only when her tears were exhausted, when all that was left of
her was her cold determination and a colder heart, did Dana retrieve
the damning, silent receiver, call Skinner and arrange to meet him at
the Bureau. In the early hours of the morning, they sat together in
Skinner's office and made plans.

      The team Agent Scully assembled that night learned quite a lot
which was new about Angela Larson, but made no progress in finding
Mulder.

      Dana's lightning revelation in the courtroom turned out to be
correct.  About six weeks previously, records showed an Angela Larson
had reported to the District police that she had been mugged. When the
officers asked her to look at mug shots, she told them that the mugger
had been laughing with his friends about being a member of a gang but
she could not remember which one.  The officer had suggested several,
among them the 'Chain'. Yes, Angela had told the officer, that was the
one.

      Dana's eyes flashed as she made her report to Skinner. "Angela
was left *alone* for more than two hours with the mug book containing
the pictures of this gang. Ironically, just three weeks later she
reports she has witnessed a murder performed by a member of that same
gang."

      Skinner put a hand over his face and silently groaned.

      "I also have a report from Reti's parole officer," Scully
continued bitingly, "stating that two weeks before the murder a woman,
who said she was with the FBI, came to his office and asked pointed
questions about several members of the Chain. Where they lived, where
they worked. Reti's name was among them."  Dana threw up her
hands. "The moronic secretary did not even ask to see this supposed
agent's identification!"

      Skinner stared fixedly at his desk. His five o'clock shadow had
gone way past where Scully had ever seen it. His jaw was tight as he
grumbled with bitterness, "Since when did this system get so screwed
up that one twenty-nine year-old, ninety-five pound psycho can be
allowed to do what this woman has done?"

      When she passed his office from time to time during the next
hour, Dana could hear him clearly, chewing out one representative or
other of every branch of law enforcement in the city, and in a city
like Washington there were quite a few. Scully allowed herself a grim
gallows smile. As she and Mulder were well aware, laying down the law
was something Walter Skinner was very, very good at.
      


      The working hypothesis in the Bullpen was that once she
possessed a list of possible gang members, Angela had systematically
determined which one would be the easiest to frame. Whether she
performed the act herself or not was unknown. Reti's habit of sleeping
in the back room of the store before his shift meant that he would
have no alibi. Perfect. A team was still working on McDowell's death,
but it seemed plausible that Angela had contracted for his murder. The
senselessness of it was appalling, even to these hardened
professionals. McDowell had probably been killed only to delay
locating Angela's safe house.

      In the final analysis, all agreed that Angela had been smart,
unexpectedly so. Except when reporting her mugging early on, she had
never used her own name. A person with that much foresight would have
prepared her own safe house in advance and had it ready and
waiting. Records showed her parents had died while she was still being
treated at Longmead and that she had inherited their good-sized nest
egg - enough to contract for a murder or two, enough to buy a
house. Dana had set twenty agents on phones, checking realty agencies,
looking at all area house sales and rentals for which contracts had
been written within the last six weeks. And, if they found nothing
within a three state area, they would expand the search. Even with
computerized databases this would take time, especially since she
would not have used her own name, but everyone was optimistic that the
plan would be successful. Eventually.

      Eventually, however, was not good enough for Dana. Not for the
first time and not for the last, she moaned silently, "There's not
enough time for this!"

      In turns they drifted by her desk, all the agents on the
team. They spoke quietly, giving her assurances that her partner would
be found, commending her on her work. For everyone recognized that
Agent Scully's instincts had been right on this and instincts were
something the best agents bet their lives on.  Even Skinner had
praised her, but she had taken no pleasure in his commendation. Being
right at this point put them no closer to finding Mulder or to knowing
what Angela's plans were.

      Having been up most of the two nights before, Skinner slept a
few hours on the couch in his office sometime before daybreak. Dana
slept only when her head become too heavy for her to hold and because
the office staff began slipping her decaffeinated coffee. She was too
tired and too obsessed to even notice the difference.



      At seven-thirty Skinner limped into the communications center,
rubbing the too little sleep from his eyes. His shirt was wrinkled and
he had abandoned his tie hours before. He came up to Dana who was
drawing up assignments for three recruits who would be relieving
agents who had been up all night. "Go to sleep, Agent Scully," he
ordered and, when she opened her mouth to protest, added, "You can use
the couch in my office. We'll call you if we find anything."

      Silently, she nodded and pushed herself to her feet, but she did
not go to Skinner's office. She signaled to Evan, who was checking
airlines to see if an Angela Larson had had round trip tickets between
Washington and Boston mailed to her home. If the 'home' was not her
apartment in Falls Church, they might have something, but this was a
very long shot.

      "Evan, I need a favor," Dana said in a low voice once they were
alone in the silent corridor.

===========================================================================

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: The Abductee 11b/21 by Windsinger
Date: 28 Jul 1995 01:23:47 -0400


The Abductee, chap 11 continued.
                                     ***

Tuesday 8am 
Rappahannock County, Virginia

      <I hope I'm dreaming,> Mulder thought, because, if it was not a
dream, it meant he had been beaten up yet again. <They are going to
cancel my HMO for sure.>

      His head hurt with a hurt that obliterated thought. There was a
throbbing agony, that centered on the left side, which radiated waves
of shimmering pain down to his toes. His jaw ached, too, not enough to
be broken, but he would not be eating steak for a while.  And there
was something wrong with his right arm, he realized dimly. Maybe he
could just go back to sleep and leave the pain behind, but then he
realized he was so foggy that he did not remember what had happened or
where he was. What case had he been on? Something about Scully.

      An icy coldness touched his face, making him gasp and jerk away
with a groan, as the air he had held in his lungs to brace against the
pain, escaped in a rush.  The cold retreated, returned. The shock was
not nearly so sudden this time, at least it was a different sensation
from the throb in his head and a welcome distraction. Without opening
his eyes, he recognized that the cold came from a wash cloth, a fairly
wet one. He could feel trickles of water running over his chin and
down his neck.

      The thought of water reminded him of how parched his mouth and
throat felt. He was so thirsty! Timing the methodical movements of the
cloth, he caught it between his teeth as it passed over his dry lips
and tried to suck a little of the moisture from it. Anything to
relieve this craving that, now that he thought about it, threatened to
overwhelm even his mammoth headache. But his action resulted in the
cloth being wrenched forcefully out of his mouth, setting off an
explosion of pain through his jaw and head.

      When he had first realized that his face was being washed, the
thought had crept into his brain that he would only need to open his
eyes to see Scully looking down on him, yet again, with ill-masked
concern. But she would not have treated him so roughly. Not
Scully. Not even on a bad day. He cracked opened his dry eyes and
found himself staring at a daylit white ceiling. Someone then moved
into his field of vision.

      Angela.

      He shut his eyes again. The memories flooded into him as if he
had been doused again with cold water. Despair rose up so in him that
he was afraid he would choke. He had been trying to call Scully. He
had barely heard her anxious voice speak his name when Angela had
kicked him hard and battered the side of his head with the phone in
her rage. She had shown more strength than he had given her credit
for. That was why his head hurt and his jaw. But he did not mind the
pain so much now. He would risk it again to hear that voice, to know
with certainty, just from those few words, that she had known that
there was something wrong, that he needed rescuing again.

      Angela had gone for the moment. He slowly raised his left hand
and felt gingerly at the center of the agony which was his head. He
found a cut at the hair line above his left temple, but not too
bad. It was the blood from this she had been cleaning up. The area the
size of his palm was fire when he probed it.  All in all, he knew he
had been lucky. She must have caught him with the flat underside of
the phone. She had been so angry that if she had hit him square on
with an edge, she might have killed him.

      Concentrate, Mulder told himself. If he kept his head still, he
was relatively coherent, despite having a brain that had been through
what his had. How was he otherwise? Because of the head injury, he
could not expect to move quickly in any coordinated way. His right arm
ached and his hand was numb. Raised above his head, it felt like it
had been in that position for some time, and he found he could not
bring it down. He sighed audibly, feeling the thin cool pressure of
the encircling metal on his wrist and hearing the metal on metal rasp
of the opposite handcuff on the frame of the iron bed where he lay.

      <Damn.>

      He heard the rustling of movement near him and risked opening
his eyes against the light. Angela stood over him, her face
unreadable, neither angry nor mothering, but cold, emotionless. She
held a paper cup in her hand, which reminded him again of how thirsty
he was. She put an arm under his shoulders and helped him lift his
head and then put the cup to his lips. He drank at it thirstily,
heedless of the faint bitter taste of old pipes and sulphur,
regretting the little stream that, in his haste, spilled out onto the
'V' of bare chest which the t-shirt did not cover.

      She took the cup away and moved from him quickly, as if he were
somehow dangerous.

      "More," he rasped, asking almost plaintively and wishing
immediately that he could have removed that pleading tone from his
voice. He could still feel the track that small amount of coolness had
traveled from lips and tongue, across the back of his throat, down his
esophagus to lay like a cool pool in his empty stomach.

      "That's enough for now," she said curtly. "It's too risky to
allow you to go to the bathroom and I don't want to have to clean up
after you."

      She put the empty cup down beside the bed. Fox followed her with
his eyes and had to turn his head to see her sit in a chair near a
window, far enough away that, shackled as he was, he could not reach
her. It was full day, but early morning by the angle of the sun. As
she looked out the window, he noted she held his gun in her lap.

      He jerked the chain again if only to promote a little
circulation in his arm.  "Angela," he said hoarsely, experimenting
with his voice. It grew stronger as he spoke. "Talk to me... Why are
you doing this?"
      
      Slowly, she turned dead eyes to him. "You called them," she said
accusingly, looking as if she were going to cry. "You were going to
leave me...leave me all alone to face them."

      He tried to look her in the eye, which was hard, since she was
slightly above his head and his eyes were not focusing
dependably. "What happened ...  the other night ... you must know
that's not allowed. I have to remove myself from this assignment."
That argument, he knew, sounded pretty ludicrous even to him. "We can
still talk sometimes about what you are afraid of. I'll arrange it.
And I won't let you be alone."

      "Not the same," she grumbled. "You would not be here when *they*
come for me. You would not be there to protect me."

      Mulder realized he wasn't understanding something, a theme she
kept referring to. Maybe it was because his head ached so. It was hard
to concentrate and find the words, but words were all he had now.

      Tensing himself against the pain in his head, Fox forced himself
to sit up with his back against the ironwork headboard. At least now
he could see her face and he felt less vulnerable, though it made his
head feel like his brain was way too big for his skull. He roughly
jerked the handcuff, felt his head give off a small explosion and felt
a quiver in the chain which should not have been there.  He glanced
down quickly, hoping Angela did not see where he was looking.  The
thin post of metal on the iron bed's headboard, to which the other end
of the cuff was attached, was not too thick and had bent a little. A
few good jerks, a little leverage, and maybe he could get out of this
mess yet, if talking to her did not work.
  
      "Angela, who are you afraid of?" he asked. "Reti Frantilli's
friends?  Because by leaving the safe house and coming here," he
looked around at the walls and ceiling of the room, "the police and my
friends can't find us.  And they would have helped me to protect you."

      She looked at him as if he were being particularly dense. "Not
*them*. The ones who are coming to take me back. Back to that place. I
won't go. Not ever."

      "I won't let them take you," he lied sincerely, not sure to
which place she was referring. To Longmead, he assumed.

      "You already called them twice," she spat. "You called *him*,
that McDowell, and you called *her*. And now they know where we are."
Her eyes filled with tears. "And now they are coming for me tonight,
and I am so tired of running."
 

      Maybe it was his bruised brain, but Fox still could not make
sense of what she was talking about. He rattled the handcuff again,
more strongly than he would have needed to just a make a point. "Well,
I can't protect you very effectively this way. Why don't you let me go
and give me my gun?"

      She looked at him oddly and made no move to comply with his
request.  "There is more than one kind of protection, Agent Mulder. We
must follow the plan. The planning took years and years and it only
needs tonight to be fulfilled."

      Plan? Fox remembered his convenient illness all too
well. Poisoned.  How much more was part of the plan? His being here at
all was obviously part of this plan. Suddenly he swallowed hard,
though there was little moisture to swallow, and found himself staring
at her in utter stupification, able to comprehend for the first time
all that she must have done to make certain that he was here now.
Rapidly, he looked away so that she would not suspect that he knew. He
needed her on his side, as much as that was possible. He did not need
her to know that he suspected her of murder.

      He should keep silent he knew, or speak very guardedly, but on
one point, at least, he could not keep silent. If she got angry so be
it, but he had to know.

      He looked back to where she sat staring blankly out the window.
"Angela, what you said about my sister, that wasn't true was it?"

      She tilted her head as if listening, but did not turn towards
him.  "Probably not, I don't remember very well."

      It was an odd answer, but he took that as a 'no', and felt a
surprisingly deep disappointment in that knowledge. "Why the lie?" he
asked gently.

      "So you would stay with me. All of this was so you would stay
with me. I never thought you would want to leave. After -" She looked
shyly at him then, though how she could after what they had done...

      "I know," he said, closing his eyes as if closing his mind to
that particular memory. "How did you ever find out about Sam? I never
told you."

      "You did. Years ago, during the investigation, when you were
trying to explain to me about abductions. You thought I wasn't
listening, but I was." She finally turned to face him and her eyes
were large and dark and knowing.

      "About the ice cream and the night light, I never would have
told you that."

      "No, that your mother did."

      At that his head came up, his mind leaping backwards and
forwards in time, seeing the woman his mother had been and what she
had become, the sorrow and helplessness he felt about her.

      "My mother!" His flaring, trigger temper sent a shocking pain
through his head. He jerked the handcuff savagely, this time with all
his anger.  Squinting through the suddenly blinding headache he
growled at her. "If you hurt her -"

      Angela gaze was focused. She was calm. "I did not harm a hair on
her beautiful head. She was a very cordial hostess."

      "I don't see why she would tell you anything."

      Angela smiled knowingly. "'Oh, Mrs. Mulder,'" Angela said coyly,
in a soft, southern accent. And, as she spoke, her shoulders lost
their slump, her dowdy clothes straightened, her lined face smoothed
and she reminded Mulder again of the woman who had prepared herself to
go into Washington that fateful Saturday night when he had last seen
Scully. "'The CIA is considering your son for a special assignment, a
matter of national security. But with a job of this importance, we
must be certain, you know, that there are no any lasting effects from
any - childhood traumas."

      Fox had stared at her performance in astonishment. Now he
watched the aura slip away as suddenly as it had appeared, and she was
again the straggly- haired, world-weary, paranoid Angela that he
knew... and had come to fear.


      "Now," Angela said in quite a different voice, a cold, scary
voice, and raising the gun she held in her lap. "I don't feel like
talking any more.  Why don't you just go to sleep and let me alone?"

      As angry as he was, he wanted to respond to that, wanted to say
he had spent far too much time unconscious lately and did not want to
sleep now.  But his mouth would not frame the words. He could feel his
limbs going weak.  His head...  his head began to nod and, try as he
might, his eyes closed. He forced them open, struggled to stay sitting
by grasping the ornamental twists and turns of the head board, but his
hands would not grip.

      "There, see?" Angela cooed. "You are getting too excited. I know
what they gave me in the hospital when I got that way."

       Fear gripped him, even as he felt himself sliding down,
bonelessly, awkwardly, onto the bed again.
      
      As if he were underwater, he heard her saying. "You'd be
surprised to know how easy it is to buy that stuff on the street."
       
      He struggled, but felt himself being dragged down. <Damn you,
Angela, what did you put in the water?> He was unconscious before he
could even finish his thought.

      Angela rose almost gracefully from the chair, and straightened
his limbs, for he had passed out in a crumpled tangle. Then she sat on
the side of the bed and smoothed his brow as she looked into his face
with infinite sadness.  "We'll talk again, Agent Mulder, before all
this is through."
      
===========================================================================

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: The Abductee 12/21
Date: 28 Jul 1995 21:10:34 -0400



THE ABDUCTEE     (12/21)
by S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com) 
7/27/95

This story is based on the characters created by Chris Carter, Ten
Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. Used without permission
and no infringement is intended. Thanks guys, for creating this
marvelous stuff. Imitation is the highest form of flattery.  

Copyright 1995 by S. Esty

The Abductee: The Tiger and the Lamb (Chaps 12-15)
Chapter 12

Tuesday 8am
Falls Church, Virginia

     Dana Scully knocked hesitantly on the front door of the house
where Angela had taken them to collect her things just a week
before. The owner of the building, a stout woman in a frayed robe
and old slippers was not pleased to be wakened by this very proper
young professional woman this early in the morning. 

     "You want to see what? Angela Larson's apartment? You're from
where?"

     The FBI identification with its large letters, easily readable
from a distance in dim light or by sleepy landladies at eight in
the morning, admitted Dana into Angela's room without any problem.
 
     Dana was relieved when the owner made a hasty retreat. She
wanted solitude. She had even asked Evan to wait in the car. Having
been surrounded by a crowd all night, she just wanted to be alone,
but it had been considerate of him to drive her. Dana knew her
limits and her attention had definitely begun to waver. 

     Dana had not expected to gain much information from the bare
little room and she found what she expected. To her tired eyes the
room looked untouched. There were a few items on the dresser which
Dana would have packed but Angela had not; a brush, a sweater, a
lipstick. Nothing significant, though. Nothing like a check book,
address book, maps or clipped out newspaper ads. Nothing to point
to a house she might have bought, even to an area of the country
she liked.

     Then Dana spotted the framed picture hanging from its hook on
the wall. Odd for a portrait like that to be hanging from a string
on a wall when it was the right type of frame to sit on the night
stand beside the bed. She had thought that peculiar the first time
she had been there. Stranger still that Angela had not taken the
picture of the boyfriend she had seemed so happy with. Carefully,
Scully touched the frame and turned it on its string. 

     A different boy's picture was taped to the back of the frame,
a younger boy. Large red spots of what looked like lipstick, or
perhaps blood, framed the young man's head almost like a halo. The
picture of the boy, no more than sixteen, had been enlarged from a
much smaller one and thus was grainy and indistinct. Dana easily
recognized the face, however, the strong jaw, the high intelligent
forehead, and the sad eyes, even though it had probably been
photocopied from a high school yearbook two decades old.   

     Dana sat down slowly on the edge of the sagging mattress and
held the picture in her hands, gently touching the face in the
picture. The lab would be able identify the dark stains, but did it
matter? Dana had come to suspect that for Angela, love and hate
were proving to be one and the same. 

     Dana let her head hang loosely on her shoulders. She had
worked like someone possessed all night, so had many others, and
now she was too exhausted to think of anything else to do. Where
else could she look where others were not already looking. 

     Four months before in a forest far north of the city, a serial
killer they had been stalking had set her up and she had been shot.
For two days Mulder had had to deal with the madman, play his
games. He had put himself in the most dangerous position, all to
find her. How had he borne the not knowing, she wondered? How had
he borne the thought that she might die? That she might already be
dead? She only remembered the look in his eyes as he had carried
her miles through the rain to bring her to safety. Then there was
the different look that had come into his eyes in the hospital as,
being told the danger was past, he had sought her face. 

     <If something should ever happen to one of us,> Dana thought,
<heaven help the one who is left behind.> Taking the picture with
her, she left the apartment. Past time to get back to work.

     Wearily, she climbed into the car where Evan waited patiently
for her to tell him where he should drive her next. Seeing her dead
eyes, he said, "You should go home, Dana."
     
     But before she could reply, her cellular signaled, startling
both of them. She snatched it from her pocket and hear Skinner's
voice and by his tone she knew there had been no big breakthrough,
but there was news. 

     "You didn't go home, Agent Scully," the deep voice said.

     There was no apology in hers when she answered. "No, sir."

     He did not comment. He neither approved nor disapproved, he
was that tired himself. "I thought you would want to know. The
toxicological report just came in from the evidence found at the
safe house."

     Dana tensed, then looked meaningfully over at Evan. 

     Evan could take a hint. "I think, I'll stretch my legs," he
told her, got out of the car and began walking slowly down the
street. 

     Dana looked after her new friend, reminding herself to thank
him some day, then returned to the phone, closing her eyes. "Sir,
I'm listening." 

     "As you predicted, Agent Scully, they found that rat poison
both in the oatmeal from the trash and in the emesis taken from the
waste basket." 

     Dana's eyes shut tighter. Skinner's voice had risen slightly
at the end. There was more.

     "They found some tea leaves laced with a *Cannabis*
derivative, one prescribed for selected patients on chemotherapy,
not enough to be dangerous, but enough, I am told, to give a person
a good night's sleep and a general feeling a well-being." That
pause again.

     "Agent Scully?" Skinner's voice asked.

     "Sir, I'm still here." Her voice was very quiet. She knew
there was more. "What else did they find?"

     He did not begin immediately, sensing she knew something of
what was coming. "Also from the trash, although the sample was
small, they found some remnants of applesauce, heavily flavored
with cinnamon. The sample contains a drug called 'MDA', in
considerable concentration." He heard her intake of breath. "I see
you are familiar with it and its properties. The lab had to update
me. None was detected in the emesis, but from its location in the
trash the lab suggests it was probably presented at an earlier
meal. Most likely Sunday evening. They think there might be
something else in that sample as well. They are still working on
it."

     Hearing no word from her, he went on uneasily. "I hate to say
I am relieved, but for the sake of Agent Mulder's future at this
institution, I admit I am. It still remains to be proven that Agent
Mulder actually consumed the drug or, if consumed, he did not
consume it consensually, but the case against him now seems less
daunting."

     "He would not -" Scully defended. "He would never -".  

     Skinner's voice was even, non-threatening. "From what I know
of Agent Mulder's character, I agree with you, but there are others
who would try to make a case of this... others, who from petty envy
or a bias against those who are different, who don't play by the
rules, would like to bring him down." His voice had gradually
sharpened to reveal an anger he would not have let show if he were
not so tired. "But we will deal with that in its own time, won't
we, Agent Scully?"

     "We will, sir," she said, her voice steadier. His words even
at this distance gave her some comfort. "I'm coming back now."            



     Evan Byers walked the block six times. When he began to get
the hairy eyeball from an old woman at the end of the street, he
decided six was enough. He came up to her window, and, just as the
last five times he had been by, noted she was not on the phone.  

     This time she made a motion for him to get in. From the brief
glance he got of her face as he came around to the driver's side,
he could see the tracks of tears, but her face was still and hard
when he settled behind the steering wheel.

     "Dana," he asked carefully, starting the engine, "did they
find arsenic, like we discussed?"

     Her reply was terse. "Yes." 

     Evan passed his hand over his face. "I'm really sorry, Dana."
He turned down the street, heading back towards the main road. She
let the silence continue. He could tell there was something still
in the air. "Anything else?"

     There was a pause, as if she had to fight to get the words out
clearly. "I don't want to talk about it. Just take me get back to
the office." 

                                    ***

     Dana tried to work, only to come up against more dead ends,
more frustrations, more red tape and bureaucracy. At one point she
had found herself screaming, literally screaming, at Agent Clark.
The rookie had had the nerve to come up to her and report, oh, so
apologetically, that he was the one who should have relieved Agent
Mulder Saturday for his night off. Angela Larson, however, had
answered the phone when he called to confirm the arrangement and
asked him not to come. She had told him that Agent Mulder was not
feeling well, and he had taken her word for it.

     So now he was treated to a few well selected words from
Special Agent Dana Scully. Words, most of the agents in the bullpen
at the time, did not realize she knew. Skinner had rescued the kid,
but everyone knew his rescue would be temporary, as Skinner marched
the slinking youngster into his office and soundly slammed the
door. 

     Hours later in the mid afternoon, one of the secretaries
reported quietly to Assistant Director Skinner that something was
wrong with Agent Scully. This led to Skinner invading the woman's
restroom to find an exhausted Dana huddled in the corner of one of
the stalls crying softly. He bundled her up in her coat and sent
her home in a cab to get some sleep.


                                    ***
Tuesday 5pm
Washington, D.C.


     Dana threw her coat and her gun on a chair, thought about
taking a shower, but stretched out on the bed instead. Wearily, she
stretched out her arm to gently touch the figure of a tiger sitting
on the nightstand. Then she let her head fall back upon the pillow.

                                    ***

Tuesday 8pm
Somewhere in Rappahannock County, Virginia

     Angela set out the articles on the small table which she knew
she would need later; the razor, the bowl. The man still lay in a
drugged sleep. She did not want to look at him. Now that she had
come this far she was afraid if she looked at him, if she allowed
herself to remember being touched by him, that she would not have
the resolve to see the plan through. She took the coil of rope in
her hands, but decided instead to have a cup of tea, perhaps two,
before beginning the final phase. 


                                    ***
Tuesday 10pm
Washington DC

     Dana woke to a dark apartment. Her eyes strayed to the clock
first. She felt almost guilty to find she had slept for five hours.
Immediately, she called the office, but there were no new
developments. No need to come in, they said. Go back to sleep. 

     <How can I sleep?>

     As she drug herself out of bed, Dana found the tiger tangled
in the quilt she had pulled over herself. The figure was six inches
long and covered in a soft material that resembled fur, but its
expression was not soft. Its mouth was open wide, displaying its
sharp teeth, and its eyes were wild. She slowly smoothed the fur
down. 

     This had been Mulder's very first gift to her. She remembered
why. He had given it to her a few days after Eugene Tooms had
attacked her. They had not been working together very long. Too
clearly, Dana remembered fighting for her life on the cold floor of
her bathroom with Tooms holding her down. A few seconds longer and
he would have had her ripped open, only Mulder had burst through
the front door. When Tooms leaped up to escape, Dana found, to her
surprise, a reserve of courage someplace deep inside herself which
she had not known was there. Turning and fighting with the fleeing
man, actually allowing his disgustingly slimy hands to touch her
again, she had prevented his escape until Mulder could reach them.
Together, they had subdued Tooms, working perfectly as a team. 

     Mulder had not said anything at the time, but she had seen him
looking at her with new eyes. He presented her with the tiger a
week later without a word of explanation but had let her see for
the first time one of his rare good smiles, the kind that now made
her knees weak. 

     "I picked this up for you."

     She had looked at the offering, uncomprehending. "What is this
for?"

     "You did good, sweetheart." His imitation of Humphrey Bogart
was terrible.

     "Better than you expected, or better than you hoped?" she
responded and received in reply another of those smiles. He
remembered when she had first said those words to him.

     

     Now she sat on her bed and stroked the beast. That had been a
kind of turning point for them. She was no longer considered just
some baggage assigned to question his theories, reluctantly follow
his leads, report to her superiors on his activities, pull his ass
out of jail and patch him up. She had become a professional in his
eyes, someone who could be depended upon when things got tough.
Real partner material; someone he could trust.

     And he was out there now, had risked Angela's anger and
suffered for it, if the cry of pain she had heard just before the
phone was disconnected was any indication. He had put his trust in
her to find him, to do anything it would take.

     Dana started the shower, needing it to either revive her or
relax her. Either would be preferable to how she currently felt.
Roughly, she stripped off the suit she had worn now for too many
days. 
 
     As the hot water coursed down her skin, Dana felt her mind
release just as her muscles relaxed. Something about the blast of
warm water always was able to free her mind from its same old
circles, opening it to new lines of thought, different
possibilities. 

     After a few minutes, she smiled. She allowed herself to
remember Mulder bending down and whispering to her just before she
walked into Skinner's office for her very first solo dressing down.
"Go get'em, Tiger." 
 
     "I'm trying, Mulder," she murmured into the water.

     The tiger. The intense, wild glare of the animal, was there in
her mind, but shifted. She no longer thought of Mulder's glib
encouragement. She had seen that wild, untamed look somewhere else
recently.

     Dana stopped working the lather in her hands and clutched at
the soap, feeling it slip and fall unheeded to the floor of the
tub. She rested her head against the tile and let the white noise
of the hissing water obscure every other distraction, as its
soothing heat eased her tension. Think. There may yet be a way to
Mulder. The longer she thought on it, the more she was certain that
the information did exist, only no one had thought to ask the right
people. 

     By closing her eyes Dana saw a path in a dark place with only
a candle to light the way, a candle which the slightest breeze
would extinguish. 

     Call Skinner? Going by the book would be like summoning the
storm. The flame would not last a moment and the path would be
obscure again. 

     Go alone? Even asking the question could put her in as much
danger as Mulder. To go alone was hard, but sometimes it was the
only way. Mulder had taught her that. 

     Rapidly she rinsed off the clinging soap and, wrapped in a
towel, she stood dripping as she made one phone call, giving the
woman who answered precise and urgent instructions. Then Dana dried
her hair in quick, efficient movements. She had learned such skills
working with Mulder, who, when he got the whiff of the trail, would
not be delayed for such minor matters as dressing properly. Ticking
off the implications of what she must do in her mind, she dressed
quickly but carefully; not too severe, not too feminine. She packed
her weapon, a powerful flash light, and her medical kit, almost
praying she would have an opportunity to use it. 

     Poised to flee her apartment, Dana reluctantly admitted she
had one more task to perform; she must let at least one person know
where she was going. For if she did not make it back, she did not
want her mother or her sister, even Skinner, to go through what she
was going through... not knowing... possibly never knowing.

     She had no choice if she was going to find Mulder, because not
finding him was no choice at all. 

                                     
     
     Evan Byers fumbled with the receiver as he struggled to answer
his phone. It was eleven o'clock and he had been asleep only four
hours after having been up for thirty.  "Dana!" he said, his sleepy
voice indicating both how surprised and pleased he was that she had
called.

     "Evan, I need your help," Dana announced abruptly before he
had a chance to say anything more. 

     Her seriousness took all the pleasure from his voice. "Dana,
you know you have only to ask. What can I do?" He hesitated and the
next came out warily. "This is about Mulder, isn't it?" He felt his
temper rising. "Dana, I heard something around the office today,
that he and his client -"

     Dana would not let him go further. She did not need to hear
it. "It's all over the Bureau already, is it?"

     Evan tried to give her some sympathy, but for Mulder, it was
obvious, he had none. What had the man been thinking? There were
some things which Evan could not forgive. "Has it gotten around?
What did you expect? He's known to be a weird bird and people will
talk. The question is, do *you* need to talk?"  No... he didn't
know why he even bothered to ask. From her tone of voice he could
tell she did not; not that kind of talking. 

     "Don't, Evan," she warned him, her voice almost dangerous.
"Don't talk about him like that, not to me. You don't
understand..."

     "Don't ask me to be understanding! He's hurt you. I can tell.
How can you defend him -"

     "Evan, stop!" Her sharp command surprised him. He waited and
after a moment she began in a different tone of voice. "Evan what
do you know about MDA?"

     Evan changed the receiver to his other hand, not comprehending
the sudden shift in topics. "I've read some articles. It's a very
rare variation of amphetamine and hard to synthesize. Good thing,
too. A few so-called psychologists - A.K.A. 'sex therapists' - have
had their licenses revoked. It's the closest thing to an
aphrodisiac man has developed so far. The up side is sweeter than
heaven, they say. You'd have sex with your own mother. But the down
side is sheer hell. They've even had two suicides associated -" 

     Evan stopped. <Stupid, Evan. Really stupid...> The other end
of the phone was dismally silent. 

     "Dana? Speak to me. The toxicological analysis did find
something else, didn't they?"

     Her voice when she spoke again was strained. "A marijuana
derivative - and MDA, lots of it." 

     <That will teach me to keep my big mouth shut.> Evan
swallowed. "Dana, what can I say -"

     "Evan, just don't say anything, except to tell your gossipy
friends that they don't know what they are talking about." Her
voice was still unnaturally tight. "And nothing goes further than
here, do I make myself clear?"

     "Crystal clear, Dana." <Enough on that subject,> he thought.
"Somehow I don't think you called about this, did you?"

     He heard her breathing, could also almost see her steady
herself, control her anger, her unhappiness.  

     Dana felt so alone, so tired. She needed *him*; not Evan, not
Skinner or that whole crowd in the Bullpen. Only Mulder. The time
for talking was past. "No, Evan. I called because I have a hunch
and I need to follow it through but it could be... dangerous. I
know Skinner would never allow it." Why could she not keep her
voice from shaking? "I just wanted someone to know."

     The voice on the end of the line was as serious as hers now.
"Dana," Evan said warningly, "what are you going to do?"

     "Visit Hector Prince."

     "No!" The voice lashed out, startled, angry, concerned. She
could see Evan in her mind, standing over the phone, his wide
shoulders shaking with alarm, needing to shelter her. 

     <Men!> Dana thought. Mulder did this, too, but less often
since she had drummed it into him that sometimes she did not need
or want him to protect her. He was learning. He had learned to
respect how strong she could be. 

     "Evan, I have to do this. I found out today that Angela
probably killed Mitch Legget or had him killed. Obviously, Hector
Prince knew Reti didn't do it and from the way his supporters were
acting in the courtroom I'm sure they know more than they're
saying. I have to ask." 

     "Dana, those people are slime, criminals, murderers. Are you
saying you are planning to go alone to question these people?"

     Scully was shocked by the intensity of his outburst. "Evan -
it's... Mulder. I thought you understood."

     Evan's voice still expressed his outrage. "I guess I'm old
fashioned. I guess I don't. If he loved you, Mulder wouldn't want
you to put yourself in danger like this. You could be killed."

     "We all take our chances in this business."

     "But why do you have to go? Someone else could go."

     "He's my *partner*, Evan."

     "At the very least, let me go with you."

     Dana looked towards the door, at her things packed and ready.
"Not an option, Evan. A woman alone might be able to get in there.
If I brought a man, especially a man your size, I wouldn't stand a
chance. They would never talk, and this may be our only chance."

     He was not convinced. "Okay, maybe they don't kill you, but is
this worth setting yourself up to be raped?" 

     At that moment Dana was furious with Evan, but then she
remembered... Evan was not FBI... not even law enforcement. He was
the product of the culture that thought that a woman who allowed
herself to be alone in a dangerous place was asking for trouble.

     "I'm not going in as a victim, Evan, or as a sacrifice. I am
a law enforcement officer, a professional and this is a
negotiation."

     "A pretty unconventional one or you would have told Skinner,"
he added from the other end of the line.

     "That is why Skinner would not allow it. Skinner has to go by
the book and he would be required to bring in too many people. It
would be worse than if you came with me. Yes, there is risk but I
accept that. It's part of my job... but I will do what I have to
do, even if it means bargaining with the devil. "

     Dana knew she had been hard on him and actually did understand
Evan's anger; Evan cared. She just didn't have time for that right
now. Evan also did not understand about Mulder; about what they
had. "There isn't any use talking any more, Evan. Just do this for
me. As a friend?"

     "I can see I can't change your mind. At least, promise you'll
call me as soon as you're safe."

     "I promise, if you agree not to tell Skinner until morning."

     "Dana..."

     "Promise," she ordered.

     In the end he promised. Within thirty seconds Dana had fled
her apartment, just in case Evan decided to turn on her and call
either the police or Skinner to stop her. As she was driving away
from her apartment building, Dana neither saw nor heard any signs
of pursuit. 

===========================================================================

From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: New: The Abductee 13/21
Date: 28 Jul 1995 21:10:36 -0400


THE ABDUCTEE    (13/21) 
by S. Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com) 
7/27/95

This story is based on the characters created by Chris Carter, Ten
Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. Used without permission
and no infringement is intended. Thanks guys, for creating this
marvelous stuff. Imitation is the highest form of flattery.  

Credit to Kipler's story "Night" (one of my favorites) and all of
Amperage's work, but especially, "The Woods" for inspiration for
Mulder's dark and private place. 

Copyright 1995 by S. Esty


Chapter 13                           

Wednesday 12:30 am
Rappahannock County, Virginia

     Mulder was beginning to hate waking up. Whatever she had
sedated him with this time, at least the lingering grogginess was
more in his body than his mind. Waiting for the tingling numbness
to go away, he wearily considered getting into some other line of
work. He had been shot, drugged, and beaten more times than he
could count. When would his body just say 'Enough already'. Add to
that the hideous sights he had seen, and no wonder he had
nightmares. 

     As the numbness passed, he took stock and realized that his
right arm was still shackled, but a cold shiver ran up his spine
when he realized his legs were tied down, too, his ankles somehow
attached to the bed frame. His left arm was immobilized, not above
his head, but out to his side, so that his forearm hung over the
edge of the mattress. His jaw hurt somewhat less, but his head
still throbbed. By raising his head slightly and looking up and to
his left, he could see the window where Angela had sat... how many
hours or days before? Now it was completely dark. When he was last
conscious, it had been early morning. Whatever she had given him
had been strong. 

     He heard a movement and saw the slight form of Angela move
into his view. He saw all of her down to mid thigh. She was wearing
only a bra and panties and a old ragged robe that hung open and
loosely on her shoulders. He felt very, very uncomfortable in her
presence.

     She noticed his eyes. "Awake?" she asked. "Good. I did not
wish to go through this alone." She moved restlessly and her eyes
were uneasy.

     He struggled against the bindings. His right arm and legs he
could move some, but only enough for circulation, his left arm not
at all. "Angela, if you expect me to perform, you're going to be
sadly disappointed. I have a headache."

     Her head came up and she almost smiled. "You *are* amusing,
Agent Mulder. I hadn't thought of that. I suppose this is
considered by some to be a very seductive position. Do you think
so?" 

     The way she said that sent another unpleasant shiver through
his body. As she passed out of his view for a moment, he reminded
himself to be more careful in the future about giving her any more
ideas. When she returned she put a knee on the bed and leaned
towards him.  She had a bottle in her hand that he thought looked
familiar. She slowly raised his shirt and he felt the coolness as
she poured some of the liquid onto his skin and began to smooth it
with the tips of her fingers. He flinched away from her, as well as
he could, as if she were poison itself and then the scent from the
bottle reached him. *This* he finally remembered, and not only from
that careless, mad night with Angela, but from years and years
before. It had been *her* scent.

     Although apprehensive, afraid of the answer, he still asked,
"How did you come to find out about that?"

     She continued to smooth on the oil. "The same way I knew where
to find your mother." She reached into the pocket of her robe and
drew out two envelopes, dirty and creased from age and wear. She
held them so that he would see. His hazel eyes grew wide, so that
all the green showed, and then closed painfully until only the
brown did. 

     He could recognize his own handwriting, even though it was
eight years old. "How?" he asked, his voice breaking. 

     "You don't remember? A rainy Sunday, during that first
investigation. You wrote letters and in the morning, when we went
to town, I offered to post them for you." She sat on the bed and
stared down at them with a sigh. "I guess I had a crush on you. I
wanted just to have something... to remember you by." She put them
aside on the nightstand beside the bed. "I had to hide them in my
parent's house, otherwise the hospital would have taken them away
from me. I didn't see them for eight years."

     He knew he could not keep the furrow out of his brow. He knew
she would see it. She did. She moved her hands enticingly across
his chest and smiled. "Phoebe Greene was *very* cooperative," she
told him.

     At her words his breath caught in his lungs and would not
move. He closed his eyes as something broke deep within him which
he thought could not be broken anymore, something hurt where he
thought there was nothing left which could be hurt. 

     To tell... a stranger what they had shared? He had never
thought that she would do this to him. Even Phoebe. Phoebe, with
the long limbs and the dark hair and her cold, selfish heart. All
through those long, lonely years at Oxford, how he had loved her
and how she had enjoyed ignoring him, humiliating him, being
pleasured by him.

     A cool, erotic tremor traveled through him as soft lips licked
the skin of one nipple while gentle fingers caressed the other. 

     <Dear God, stop... stop...> He wanted to run... knew he could
not run. Not that way... but the other... his dark place was still
waiting for him as it had been whenever life had been too hard to
bear... 

     Fox retreated into his mind where it did not matter that
someone's hands still touched him, that someone's lips still kissed
him, even Phoebe could not follow him into this... his own very
private, very lonely place, a place he knew very well indeed. 

     His consciousness barely felt the soft hands on him now,
barely felt her massaging his skin, cutting away the shirt and
shorts, the cold touch of the knife against his skin, the gentle
kisses on his scars, so many of them, across his chest. When she
kissed the scar high on his thigh he felt distantly, as though it
was happening to another, the warm stirrings of arousal. But from
his dark place that reality made no connection with his.
  
     Almost with relief he felt a woman's soft hand raise his head
and put a cup to his lips and he did not resist. He was so thirsty,
and if she put him to sleep as before, he did not care... At least
he did not have to think for a time...  but the liquid in his mouth
*burned*! 

     He leapt up, or tried to. He strained against his bonds,
sputtering and choking. Through the tears that squeezed out of his
eyes, he saw Angela above him and vengefully spat the burning
liquor into her face.

     "No!" he shouted at her, his expression bitter and hateful.
"Not again!"
   
     She sat beside him on the bed wiping her face. She was not
angry. She looked sad. The remembered perfume, which had so
effectively triggered those memories in his body the other night,
was soft about them both. But there was nothing passionate in her. 

     "It won't work this time, Angela," he said in a voice intended
to be stern, but he was not as sure as he wished he could be.

     "Do you think you were drunk before?" she asked,
incredulously. "I was 'entertained' by some of the staff at the
hospital when they were drunk." Her gaze was intent. "You were
*nothing* like them." She softly touched the moist, smooth skin of
his chest, moving her hand in languid circles. "I just thought that
alcohol would work faster. I only wanted to ease the... pain,
but... if you prefer, I can use the other." As her finger touched
him *there*, he flicked her hand away with a convulsive shudder of
his hips, though at the touch a heady warmth flowed from his
center. "We have to hurry, but I could give you that much time. I
could play again for you the music which you seem to like so much.
I could touch you like she touched you. I could give you such a
pleasant dream and then you would not feel the pain."  

     His eyes opened wide. So this was the answer to his behavior
that night... 'the other'... some drug, and he felt panic closing
down upon him like a black curtain when he remembered how it had
made him feel, how it had made him act so entirely unlike himself.
For with it he knew she could control him again, have him again,
and he would not be able to stop her or himself. She could force it
on him if she choose, and he could still feel the tracks of fire
from her hands on his body. Wished to God he could not.  
     
     "Please," he found himself whispering, pleading in a voice he
could not even recognize as his. "Please, don't."

     She seemed to consider, then, sighing resignedly, flipped a
sheet across his nakedness. He gasped silently, dropped his head
back onto the pillow and closed his eyes.

     "You're a good lay, Agent Mulder," she said wistfully, "but
not so good that I would take you unwilling. Not now." There was
only sadness now. "I only wanted you to love me and stay with me."

     Without opening his eyes, Fox told her softly, "Sex isn't
love, Angela." He, more than anyone, should know that.

     She looked at him with mournful, dark eyes from beneath the
strands of her dark blond hair. "I never had a chance to find that
out."

     He thought about her life and said nothing, but listening to
the whisper of charity he still felt towards her, he found he had
to agree. No, she never had.

     Angela rose then from the edge of the bed where she had been
sitting and looked down solemnly on a small table sitting beside
the bed that he had not noticed before. "But a pleasant interlude
would have delayed this," she said. "I'm sorry you won't allow me,
at least, to get you drunk. You may long for it. I did not want you
to suffer."

     Fear sat up in him. That sounded ominous, like something done
to an animal, and here he thought he had passed the test, he
thought he had won. What had passed had been just a diversion for
what was to come. *This* was why she had brought him here. 

     "Angela, what *is* happening tonight?" He did not try to hide
the anxiety creeping into his voice. Whatever it was, he did not
want to know. But she was clearly reluctant, so, maybe if she was
forced to put her intentions into words, she would lose heart.

     "How many times do I have to tell you?" She turned off the
ceiling lights, and all but one bright lamp on the dresser. The new
warm light, however, was not comforting.  "They are coming to take
me, but you are to be my protection against them."

     Yes, Mulder had heard - too many times - but still he did not
understand. He had taken it as part of her ramblings, not as
something real. "If you had wanted protection," he quipped lamely,
"I would have bought you a German Shepherd."

     Companionably, she patted his left forearm and sat down slowly
on a chair that she he had earlier moved beside the bed. She pulled
to her the small table on which were several items, but he could
not tell what they were from his angle.
 
     "I told you before there is more than one kind of protection,"
Angela said with solemnity. She took a large stainless steel bowl
and placed it on the table under his left hand. "Throughout
history," she told him, as though reciting something rehearsed,
"there have been many objects of power." She picked a long barber's
razor up from the table and held it to the light.

     Mulder felt her grab his wrist tightly and try as he might he
could not pull it away. He could feel the horror rising in him with
comprehension. "Angela, please, don't do this...," he found himself
saying in the voice he had used before, but there was no dissuading
her this time.

     She did not even seem to have heard him. She bent over his
hand and with the razor nicked his wrist. It was a small cut, which
he barely felt, but the implications were much more overwhelming.
A fine red spray spurted over the front of her ragged robe, her
bra, the skin of her chest. A few drops were on her face. 

     Mulder bit his lip. If he still had anything in his stomach,
he would have been sick. 

     "Woman were thought to be very powerful during their
moontime." She droned on, as she worked, in almost a chant. "Strong
warriors feared them. Sacrifice, blood on the altar, are common
themes from the Greeks to the Aztecs." She turned his wrist down so
that the spray directed itself into the shining silver bowl. "Even
the Hebrews protected their loved ones from the wrath of God by
painting the blood of a goat upon the lintels of their doorways.
Christ shed his blood for us, to protect us from death." She
continued to hold the back of his wrist over the bowl with her left
hand while soaking a cotton ball with a liquid from a bottle on the
table. "Streptokinase," she explained clinically, unemotionally,
while looking into his pale face, his frightened eyes. She swabbed
the cut wrist. "It will keep the wound from clotting for a time. I
need so much, but, then, you've been getting a little anticoagulant
with your food for days now. You should bleed well."

     She massaged the muscles of his forearm thinking to encourage
the blood flow down and out. "Did you know their blood can kill
us?" she asked.

     He quickly looked away from staring at his left arm to gaze
into her face. 

     "You did?" she exclaimed. "This is like that. On the ship,
they hated our blood, were appalled by it, but still fascinated.
The color, the texture, but they stood in awe from a distance. So
I thought, where do the old legends come from? *They* have been
here as long as time. The legends will protect me. Will protect
us."

     "Angela," he pleaded. "Stop."

     She looked into his face with insane eyes. "Oh, no, Agent
Mulder. We have a long way to go and much to do tonight."
 
                                    ***


Tuesday 11:55 PM 
Near Mount Vernon, Virginia.

     The address of the principle residence of Hector Prince,
patriarch of the Chain and all of its criminal offshoots, was
unexpectedly easy to acquire. An acquaintance of Dana's, whom she
managed to reach on her cellular phone, gave her directions: five
miles south of Mount Vernon, overlooking the Potomac on the
Maryland side of the river. 

     First, Dana Scully drove by slowly. The high stone walls and
massive iron gates, flanked by what looked like watch towers, made
the mansion look more like one of Washington's fortified embassies
than the headquarters of a well diversified crime syndicate. Back
lit by floods from the house, the bars of the gates cast long
shadows on the driveway. While driving, Dana had made a hard
decision. She parked along the side of the road and stowed her gun
in the trunk. For this interview she had reluctantly decided that
showing that sort of strength would gain her nothing.

     As she retraced her path back to the house and drove up to the
gates, she was aware of how very vulnerable she was without her
weapon.  Seeing the body guard advancing towards her car with a
semi-automatic under his arm, however, convinced her that she had
made a wise decision. She would have been embarrassingly outgunned.

     "Heck of a time of night to be lost, lady," the guard said
almost politely. He was large man and he carried his weapon with
casual ease.   

     Dana thought they must not get very many drop in visitors.
"I'm not lost. I need to talk to Hector Prince. I'm Special Agent
Dana Scully, FBI." Carefully, she showed her ID, making no sudden
move. "There are critical developments concerning Reti Frantilli
that he should know."

     At this the man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He had thought
this pretty woman simply lost, but maybe she had lost her mind,
instead. "Mr. Prince, he don't see people without an appointment,
*especially* your kind, and not at this time of night."

     Dana had rolled down the window. Now she opened the door,
hands out and visible at all times. The man's gun stayed
confidently lowered. He was cool. She looked small and defenseless.
That had been her intention. Yet, her eyes were hard with
determination, and, as Mulder had learned, an innate stubbornness.
"I must meet with him now. Tell him I saw him in the courtroom
yesterday. Tell him I know Reti Frantilli is innocent."

     This seemed to impress the guard, but before leaving her he
flipped out a metal detection wand he carried fastened on his belt
and used it to frisk her for weapons. All the latest technology,
Dana thought, and here she had been prepared, at the very least, to
be pawed while they did a strip search. 

     The guard made a call from the guard house and before very
many minutes she saw a small gate in the fence unlock
electronically and swing open silently. 

     "Leave your car and walk up," the guard said. "And no baggage
of any kind," he added, taking her briefcase and purse. After
checking her again he let her through the small gate. 

     "And don't dawdle," he advised with a sly smile, "because they
expect you at the house in two minutes. Otherwise, someone might
become suspicious."

     Dana straightened her back, stepped through the gate, and
walked up the curving path heading into the flood lit area in front
of the house. She felt eyes on her from countless windows facing
her from the old mansion. As she walked up the stone steps, the
front door opened and a black man, as large as the guard at the
gate, opened the door. This one wore a suit, but did not seem to be
very comfortable in it. Silently he led her into what looked like
a music room off the huge foyer. She heard the sliding of a bolt
after he shut the door behind her.

     This room and, from what little she had seen, the whole house
was decorated in a simple elegance. The music room was equipped
with a grand piano in shiny black lacquer. In the corner was a
concert harp. There were three straight chairs and an expensive
brocaded couch but only three long slit-like windows. A very pretty
prison. Sighing, Dana sat down to wait. 

                                    ***

Wednesday 3am
Rappahannock County, Virginia


     How could eye lids be so heavy, Fox Mulder thought, as he
fought to stay awake. He had driven thousands of miles fighting
sleep; sat in parked cars during dozens of stake outs trying to
stay awake because he knew it was critical to catch the slightest
movement; sat through hundreds of hours of droning surveillance
tapes, trying not to sleep from the shear boredom of it; but
nothing, nothing compared to the urge he felt now to just give up
and close his weary eyes. Nothing kept him from it now, but the
overwhelming fear that, if he let himself sleep, he would never
wake again.

     No, there something besides the fear. There was the waking
dream, probably an hallucination, which for all its frightening
aspects, was also comforting because Scully was there. He could
hear her speaking urgently close by. "Don't go to sleep on me,
Mulder. Stay with me, Mulder." She was practically sitting on his
leg, trying to stop the blood spurting from the gunshot wound to
his thigh. He was laying on a dock. He could hear the lap of the
water against the pilings, the concerned voices of the other
agents, the whimpering of the kidnapped girl they had just rescued,
the sirens in the background coming for him. His leg hurt, yes, but
his chest hurt worse, like an elephant was sitting on it. 

     "We're talking acute traumatic hemorrhage here, Mulder. You
have to stay awake until we can get you to the hospital." Her voice
was not steady. She was afraid.. afraid for him... afraid for
herself.. saying anything she could think of to help him stay
awake. "Damn it, Mulder. I just lost my father. I refuse to lose
you, too." 

     He remembered how he began to shiver. He was so cold. Like
now. No matter how many of the black jackets they laid over him, he
continued to shiver. Those were the ridiculous jackets which they
were forced to wear, the ones with the huge 'FBI' stenciled on
them. Thank God, he was a special agent and did not have to wear
them all the time. Might as well wear a bull's eye on your back.  

     "You're going into shock, Mulder," came her sweet voice from
far, far away. "I know you're cold.  Your circulatory system is
shutting down the blood to your extremities. Saving the good stuff
for your brain and heart. That's why you're so cold." That was
Scully again. No one else would talk about your circulatory system
while you were bleeding to death.

     Better send a little more to my heart, he had thought, trying
to breathe, and then he had blacked out, only to be jarred awake
when they heaved his body roughly up onto the table in the
emergency room. <Good old George Washington University Hospital.
Just pull my card, guys.> He was gasping by that time, even on
oxygen. It had been close. Cardiopulmonary shutdown. Six units by
the time they finished. Type-specific or O negative, whatever you
have as long as it's quick, the doctors had ordered. STAT. No
crossmatch. Then they had put him out.


     Now, here he was again. So cold. He shivered like on the dock,
but help was nowhere to be found. Shivering, Scully had told him
that other time, was the body's way of keeping you warm. He knew it
was also an activity that had a high caloric requirement, a fuel
Mulder had been singularly short of lately. When his blood sugar
dipped too low, when the fuel was spent, the shivering would cease.
At least the blood letting had been slow... maybe that would help
his body adjust. Still, his chest hurt and he could hear his own
panting breath sounding odd in his ears.

     For what must have been an hour Angela had worked his arm, and
later his legs, coaxing the waning circulation to give up another
trickle of his life's blood. And as the minutes passed he felt
himself growing steadily weaker. His heart began to beat fast and
light, like the injured bird's he had held in his hands as a child,
making him feel light-headed. He had cuts in a dozen places now.
She cut a vein and worked at it, massaging the muscles. <Drip,
drip.> Used more of the solution from the bottle to break up the
clot when the wound tried to close. That worked for a little while.
When a cut ceased to bleed, she moved on to another spot. When she
realized he was too weak to resist her, she unlocked the handcuff
and used his right arm, but by that time he did not bleed much, for
he was so cold and his blood pressure was so low. His blood had
retreated from his limbs, pooling in his brain and heart. That
would keep him alive for a little while.  

     At first he had tried talking to her, reasoning with her,
pleading with her, lying to her. She had not heard him, or he did
not think she had, until she yelled at him to shut up. She was
irritated and becoming more frantic. The process was obviously
taking longer than she had planned. She kept looking anxiously at
the clock. Though his mouth was so dry he could scarcely whisper
any more, he kept trying. 

     Finally, she had exploded and in a fit of temper threatened to
hold a pillow over his face and stop him permanently, if he did not
leave her alone. She had even pulled the pillow roughly out from
under his head at one point, bringing back the pain he had nearly
forgotten. Then she had held the white death in her hands, stood
with it poised over his face. He knew that she would have done it.
He sighed, closed his eyes then with resignation and lapsed into
silence. He did not have the strength to talk any more, anyway. It
was life he clung to. Where there was life there was always -
Scully, his hope. The only one he had.
 
     Maybe something about that look of defeat touched her or maybe
she had become frightened, sensing how weak he had become, but she
offered him something to drink. Though the agony of his thirst
tormented him, he refused to drink. He would take nothing from her
hand. So, she proceeded to do what she had threatened. She forced
fluids into him and she knew how to do it, as she said, pouring a
little into his mouth and then massaging his throat until the
swallowing reflex caught. She forced on him a cool, weak tea, which
he suspected was drugged with something, for he felt oddly light
and pain-free afterwards. At first it made him sick to his stomach,
but with time the discomfort disappeared.

     Some time later, Fox had no notion of time anymore, Angela
finally stopped trying to coax the blood from him, certainly not
from lack of trying.  Thank God, she had never thought to cut
deeper into the arteries. Maybe she really did not want to kill
him. 

     Now she took a brush and began her grisly work. It was odd for
him to lay powerlessly and stare up through dilated, half opened
eyes to see wide splashes of red now drying to brown around every
door and window. She had made a ring around the perimeter of the
room, too. His blood. Hell, but he could think of better uses for
it. When she painted her body, he had to look away...


     Fox twitched. He had faded out. Something had touched his
naked chest.  Angela was crouched over him the red dripping brush
in her hand. She was brushing the sticky stuff onto his skin, but
not sloppily, not idly. There was a pattern to her work that he
could see by looking at her own bizarre appearance. She was
painting symbols; crosses of all types - Gothic, Russian Orthodox,
traditional; the Star of David and words in Hebrew; the Christian
fish; Nordic runes and Chinese characters; hieroglyphs from the
Egyptians and the Aztecs; sacred designs from a dozen Native
American tribes. She moved on from his chest to his arms, his legs.
"Some for my little sacrificial lamb," she whispered. And then she
cried. 

     She became increasingly depressed as she worked. She should
have felt better, but it was as if the horror of what she was doing
had finally, in some way, worked itself into her confused mind. It
was as if she finally realized the futility of it all, but could
not be moved from the script she had written over so many years. If
someone was coming for her, and Fox had given up trying to
determine if she was sane or crazy on that point, he thought she
had finally realized how little protection her circles of blood
would give her. 

     Fox was in a stupor now, only conscious when some noise or
movement from her roused him. He dreamed of Max Fennig... saw again
the gentle childlike soul of the UFO fanatic... remembered how
terrified the man had been at the thought of being taken again.
And, indeed, something not human had taken him in a wash of blue
light while Mulder had stood in that warehouse, looking up,
powerless to aid him... like now... like with Angela. If they
really were coming, Fox knew he could do nothing to prevent it. As
helpless now as he had been as a child when they had taken
Samantha...

     Enough. He was so tired. He closed his eyes. No more about
Angela and whether the men coming to get her would be wearing white
coats - or whether they would be wearing no coats at all, just
their thin, grey skins. Let his last thoughts be of Scully. He knew
she was out there looking for him. He had seen her work too many
times not to be able to see her in his mind... moving in her
assured efficient manner, which would be tense and tightly
controlled now that she knew he was in trouble. He could see her
quick mind working, analyzing, feeling her way through the tangled
webs to the problem's heart, a different path then his leaps of
logic, but between them they had usually found the truth. It took
time to arouse her to action, but once her temper and emotions were
mobilized, she was as tenacious on a case as a terrier... his
little tiger... as obsessed as she always accused him of being.   

     He took comfort knowing she would not stop until she found
him. If he had tears to shed, however, he would have cried thinking
about her and how she would take it when she found she had arrived
too late. God, he was going to die today. 

     <Don't take it too hard, Scully. My own fault. No one else's.
Least of all yours.> 

     His last thought was that he was going to die and he had never
kissed Dana Scully the way he had always wanted to kiss her - long
and hard and passionately.

