*************************************************************************
This author's e-mail address has changed to: alasdair.mclean@ntlworld.com
*************************************************************************

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: mcleana@btinternet.com (Alasdair T. McLean)
Subject: New Story - The Innocent 1/3
Date: Fri, 12 May 1995 07:27:18 GMT


You all know the drill.
This story contains characters copyrighted by Chris Carter, and Ten
Thirteen .... Blah, blah blah ..... No offence or copyright infringement
intended.  The rest of the characters and ideas are all mine and 
copyrighted 1995.
This story contains references to real places and institutions, these are
not reflections of the author's view of them, indeed they are used merely
to provide a setting for the story.
This takes place directly after 'Friendly Fire'

X - Files.
The Innocent - Part I.
by 
Alasdair T. McLean

 'The truth is out there, but so are lies.' :- Dana Scully.

11:57pm.
The B - 8062.
One mile west of Dunning, Perthshire.

   They stood in front of the modest gravesite, bathed in the flickering
light of strategically placed candles.  It stood on its own, not as part
of a cemetery, but as a lone reminder of the horrors of the past.  A
small, ancient pyramid of stones, topped with a roughly hewn stone cross. 
On the brick-like stone below the cross was writing, telling any who might
look upon the small monument who it was dedicated to, and why.
   Despite the cold, they were naked - and trying not to shiver.
   "Ready?" whispered one, peering at her watch trying to make out the
time by the ridiculous watch-light, "I think it's time."
   They joined hands, and began to circle around the grave, chanting in
low voices.
   Neither one of the nine noticed when the pentagram they had
spray-painted onto the cross began to glow eerily green and the rock
around it begin to smoke.
   Not one of them noticed.
   They all noticed what happened next, though ......

08:25am.
Loch Ness, Scotland.
   
   The two men jogging through the chill early morning air on the road
that ran alongside Loch Ness could almost have been brothers.  Both had
short, dark brown hair, now damp with the low mist that blanketed the
entire valley, contained by the mountains on either side of the loch.,
it's depths blackened by the peaty soil.  Depths that contained
innumerable secrets.  Both were slender, and lightly muscled.  Neither one
was outstandingly attractive, but there was something about them both. 
Some feeling...  
   The eyes of one, the shorter, were ice-blue and contained a hint that
he had seen much more in his life than most people in their early
twenties.
   The other's eyes, however, deep hazel eyes that seemed to contain an
enduring sadness and pain.  The drab weather around them matched the
feeling of loss in his eyes perfectly.   Eyes that never once left the
dark, impenetrable surface of the Loch.  Scanning, searching.
   They appeared to be arguing good naturedly about something.
   "Uh-huh, Mulder.  No.  No way.  No chance,"  William McCormack grinned
as he easily kept pace with the American at his side, "And, the answer
isn't going to change if you ask me another ten times."
   "I only want to take a peek," Mulder said, his eyes locking onto some
movement on the loch's surface, only to continue scanning when he
identified the movement as an otter out fishing, "c'mon."
   "Spooky," Will said, using none of the customary derision that
accompanied Mulder's nickname at the Bureau, "I have three - no, four very
good reasons not to let you see our files on Nessie."
   "And they are?"  Mulder had just about gotten used to Will's use of his
nickname.
   "In order?"  When Mulder nodded he continued, "One:  Jeanette would
kill me.  Two: Dana would kill me.  Three:  We are on *holiday*!  And,
four: they're classified."
   "I had to try," he laughed when Will looked up at the sky and muttered
something too low for him to hear.
   "Yeah, I suppose you did."
   In front of them the ruins of Urquhart Castle lay, shrouded in the
early morning mist.  If it weren't for the road they were running on it
would be possible to forget the year, the view appeared timeless and
unchanging in the silent morning.
   Moored to the shore in front of the castle's walls was the medium sized
cabin cruiser that they had rented on Will's expense account with Section
10, the branch of the Ministry of Defence where Will worked.  When they
had asked about it he had said that it was one of the privileges afforded
to Special Investigators.  The next question was 'what is the difference
between a Special Investigator and Investigator.  His answer was 'one pay
grade, the expense account, and more work'.
   The boat looked much the same as it had when they had left for their
run earlier that morning, with one exception.  Sitting on a cushion near
the bow, a large sketchpad on her lap, a pot of steaming  coffee by her
side was one of the most remarkable women either had met.  The sunlight
glinting off her auburn hair, Dana Scully looked up when she heard them
approach.  A stunning smile lighting up her face the second she recognised
the two men.  
   "Morning.  So, seen Nessie yet, Mulder?" she teased her partner.
   "No," he shook his head, mugging an expression of disappointment before
his eyes darted to the coffee pot at her side, "Coffee?"
   "Mugs are in the galley,"  she looked at Will as he climbed onto the
deck, "so's Jeanette.  She's cooking breakfast."
   "Tell me you didn't say 'cooking'?" he asked worriedly.
   "'Fraid so, Will."
   With a muttered oath he disappeared down into the galley, Mulder and
Scully both noticing the smoke that emerged when he slid open the door. 
Seconds later they saw one of the galley windows slide open and a hand
holding a frying pan containing something on fire, neither agent was
terribly sure what exactly.  Neither one wanted to know what it was.  The
hand suddenly twisted, dropping the flaming contents of the pan into the
loch.
   "There are some things man was not meant to know," Mulder said, his
eyes locked on the spot where the burning 'food' floated, steam rising
from it, on the water's surface.  It burbled once and then sank.
   "I'm glad I fixed some toast for myself  before I came out," Scully
shuddered at the prospect of having to eat something cooked by Will's
girlfriend.  He had met Jeanette Montaigne when he had went to work at his
mother's magazine in Toronto, she had been the deputy editor then, a
native Torontonian, she returned to the U.K. with Will when Section 10
recalled him and upgraded him to full active status.  At the moment she
was the City editor with the Herald, one of Scotland's national newspapers
based in Glasgow.  She was short, about the same size as Scully, but with
short blonde hair and bright green eyes.  She had fallen in love with him
from the first time she had met him.  It was the same for Will, however,
because he was still recovering from the apparent death of his girlfriend,
Lorna Harker, a death that he held himself responsible for, it took him a
while before he could admit his feelings to himself and her.
   Although she was the best editor the Herald had seen in a long time,
she had one major failing.  She could not cook to save herself.  As the
saying went, she could burn water.

*     *     *

   Mulder and Jeanette had taken the car, Jeanette's Rover, and headed out
to the Monster Watch Headquarters, a converted croft that housed the
tourist trap dedicated to the famous monster.  Scully had declined,
pleading disinterest.  And Will, offered to keep her company saying that
he had been before.  He also hadn't been able to resist teasing Mulder
with, "Besides, I've read the Section's file on Nessie."
   And so, they sat side by side on the deck of the small boat, her
sketching while Will lost himself in one of James Herriot's books,
chuckling every now and then.  Eventually he put the book down and glanced
over Scully's shoulder at her drawing.
   The pencil lines on the paper captured the air of mystery that seemed
to surround the loch and valley to a startling degree.  Will let out a low
whistle, "Not bad.  I didn't know that you could draw.  Or  that well,
Dana."
   She blushed, the surge of colour giving life to her attractive
features, "I started in medical school.  Drawing anatomical diagrams, and
it sort of snowballed from there."  She held it up so he could get a
better view of it, "You like?"
   "Yeah," he shrugged self-deprieciatively, "I'm afraid I never got past
stick figures."
   Returning to her sketching she said, "Oh, thank you."
   "What for?" he had picked up his book again, and didn't look up this time.
   "Several things," she smiled gently, "this holiday, not letting Mulder
get his hands on those files," her voice softened, "for saving my ... for
saving our lives."
   He looked up, and into her clear blue eyes, "You're welcome," he said
quietly, holding her gaze.
   At that moment his cellular rang, breaking the moment.  He pulled it
from the 'holster' on his jeans belt and flipped it open, "Yes, McCormack
speaking."  He glanced at Scully who had returned to her drawing, "What?
..... Oh, great.  C'mon, boss, I'm on holiday! .....But ...... Right,
okay, okay.  Good bye, sir."
   Snapping the 'phone shut he added, calmly, "Bugger."
   "Problem?"
   "You could say that, Dana," he said, getting up and heading below, "You
could say that."

3:13pm
Perth Railway Station.

   "Jeanette, I'm sorry," Will tried, the journey south from Loch Ness had
been spent mostly in silence, a very uncomfortable one at that, "It's not
my fault."
   "Will, I don't want to hear it," she said, her tone icy, "I was looking
forward to that holiday.  A lot."
   "You could have ....," his voice trailed off when he saw the look in
her green eyes, "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you.  I promise."  That
seemed to assuage her a little bit.  He seldom promised anything, but when
he did he never went back on his word.  To himself he added, "And, I'll
kill the Admiral the next time I see him."  Aloud, "I'll see you in
Glasgow when this is over."
   He smiled at her, the apology in his eyes, and she hugged him.  Holding
him tightly, "Stay safe, my love."
   Will kissed her, and looked into her eyes, "You too."  They kissed once
more, a long lingering kiss, and then parted, each walking their separate
ways.  They had not said good bye, and they never would.  The implication
that they would never see each other again hurt too much for either one to
ever think about it.
    Remember your promise, Will, Jeanette was thinking not of the promise
he had made in the railway station, but of another he had made in Toronto,
when he'd been assigned to cover a series of murders, young women, all who
had their heads chopped off.  He had promised to come back to her, safe
and whole.  One of her previous lovers had been a cop with the Metro
police who had been shot in the line of duty, that loss still hurt.
   Returning to the Rover where Mulder and Scully waited for him.  As soon
as he closed the drivers' side door Mulder asked the question that had
been on his mind from the moment that Will announced that the holiday had
just been cancelled, courtesy of Section 10.
   "What's happened?" his voice didn't hide the excitement he felt,
knowing the type of cases Section 10 dealt with.  Spooky cases.
   Will didn't answer straight away, but instead guided the car out of
Perth. heading south on the A-9 as if he were going to Glasgow or
Stirling.
   "Will?" Scully asked from the back seat, exchanging a worried glance
with her partner.
   "I grew up around here, you know," he said at last, "Over in Crieff. 
Went to school there too.  I only left to go to university." He paused, a
guilty look on his face, "Steve's grand-parents took me in when my dad
died, my mum was in Toronto, working on a newspaper there.  I haven't been
back as often as I really should have."  Mentally shaking himself he
continued, this time turning to business, "A few miles down the road from
here is a town called Dunning, a small village really.  A body was found
there, a classic example of Fortean spontaneous combustion.  Not enough to
assign a S.I. to look into it.  However, it was found at Maggie Walls'
grave."
   "Maggie Walls?" Mulder asked, "Who's she?"
   "A witch,"  Will answered after a moment, "Or rather she was burnt as a
witch in 1675."
   "How do you know that?"  Scully asked, interested despite herself.  She
could almost feel Mulder's eagerness.  What she felt from Will, though,
was ..... sadness.
   "I told you, I grew up around here."  He smiled, remembering, "When
Steve and I heard there was a witch's grave near Dunning, we had to go and
see it.  So we did.  I actually went there a couple of times.  I was ...
interested in it, intrigued.  I did quite a lot of research into it.
   "What was really unusual was that there was a grave at all, and one
that had a cross no less," this time his smile had sadness in it, "Plus
there were no church records on the subject, none at all."
   "That is unusual," Mulder agreed, turning back to Dana to explain, "You
see, Scully, just like in the Salem witch trials, the authorities, in this
case the Churches, were really big on keeping records of every witch trial
that was held."
   "So you think that she was burnt by a lynch mob?" Scully asked.
   "No one knows.  Not for certain," McCormack answered, a strange note in
his voice.
   "Explain," Mulder asked, just as they turned off the A-9 at a sign that
said Dunning was three miles away.
   "When I was at university a friend of mine, a psych student who was
interested in hypnotism put me under," sensing the looks he was getting
from Scully and Mulder, he added, "I know it was a dumb thing to do, but
trusting soul I am, I made sure she video taped the whole session.  As
well as trying to improve my concentration she also decided to do a little
past life work.  Apparently I was there when they burnt Maggie Walls in
1657.  I could have stopped it but I did nothing.  I let it happen."  
   Forgetting for once her natural scepticism, Scully reached out, placing
a hand on Will's shoulder as her eyes met Mulder's in a moment of empathy.
   They were approaching Dunning and he cheered up a little adding, "Of
course, without the records there is no scientific way of validating such
a story."
   "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Dana asked, gently teasing him. 

===========================================================================

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: mcleana@btinternet.com (Alasdair T. McLean)
Subject: New Story - The Innocent 2/3
Date: Fri, 12 May 1995 07:29:19 GMT

You all know the drill.
This story contains characters copyrighted by Chris Carter, and Ten
Thirteen .... Blah, blah blah ..... No offence or copyright infringement
intended.  The rest of the characters and ideas are all mine and 
copyrighted 1995.
This story contains references to real places and institutions, these are
not reflections of the author's view of them, indeed they are used merely
to provide a setting for the story.
This takes place directly after 'Friendly Fire'

X - Files.
The Innocent - Part II.
by
Alasdair T. McLean

'The truth isn't the only thing out there.' :- Will McCormack.

3:32pm.
Maggie Walls' grave. The B - 8062, one mile west of Dunning.

   Seen in daylight there was something pathetic about the memorial
erected in memory of the last woman to be burnt at the stake as a witch in
Scotland.  The fence around it was old, rusty, and falling apart in
places.  Two feet of trampled grass wrapped around the base of the
monument before the fence that prevented the sheep in the next field from
grazing there.
   There was a section of the ground, just under a foot square, between
the monument and the path leading to the road that was badly charred. 
Around it was a line of white plastic tacked into the ground using what
looked like tent pegs.  There was a full team of S.O.C.O.'s (Scene Of
Crime Officers, police officers trained in forensics) going over the area
for trace evidence.  Mulder wondered what theory they were working under.
   They were standing by the ambulance with the pathologist, a tall
balding man in his middle thirties who seemed completely unaffected by the
situation.  He greeted Will by first name and ushered them over before
drawing back the cloth covering the body, saying, "You just missed the
D.C.I. and his people.
   Will McCormack shrugged, "No great loss."  The local police rarely
appreciated his presence on a case, and he was not looking forward to
talking to the Detective Chief Inspector.
   "Ugh, God," Special Agent *Doctor* Dana Scully was no stranger to
death, but what she saw before her when the police medical examiner drew
back the white cloth caused her to cover her nose an mouth in horrified
shock.  All that remained was a charred skeleton, any flesh that might
have once covered the girl had been burned away - incinerated.
   "O boy," McCormack blanched at the sight of the remains, and the smell
of charred flesh and bone that wafted over the air, he doubted if anyone
else could smell it.  Lucky them, he thought.
   "I'm guessing here,"  Mulder said, hiding his revulsion beneath his dry
sense of humour as always, "but cause of death was severe burning, right?"
   "What tipped you off?"  Will asked before turning to the pathologist,
"Jim, were there any traces of any accelerants, petrol, lighter fuel?"
   "Rocket fuel," Mulder added, the annoyed glance Scully gave him.
   "None whatsoever, Will," the pathologist, Jim David, shook his head in
shocked bewilderment, "I've been doing this for twenty years and I've not
seen anything like this before.  It's staggering.  The local police think
that someone dumped the body here after killing her elsewhere."  The tone
in his voice made it clear that this was not what he thought.
   "But, you disagree, Dr David?" Scully asked, grateful to look away from
the corpse.
   "Jim, please," he corrected her.  Normally he worked for Strathclyde
police, but he had been called up by the Tayside police because of the
nature of the death, none of their pathologists had handled anything
remotely similar, but because of his experiences working on some of
Glasgow's more violent cases ..... "Yes, you could put it that way.  Ms
Scully, Mr Mulder.  When I first arrived here .... saw the 'body'. 
There's a ... feeling here. This isn't natural."
   Dana glanced briefly up at the grave and the stone cross, "I know what
you mean," she whispered to low for anyone to hear, although she noticed
Will nod at her as she said it.
   "You know what you're saying?"  Mulder asked, causing both Will and his
partner to give him strange looks, "Spontaneous combustion?"
   Jim David didn't flinch from Mulder's direct question, and his eyes
answered for him.  Like Mulder, this was a man who believed.
   "Jim's worked on some of 10's cases before, Spooky,"  Will explained,
"he's used to 'unexplained phenomena'."  He patted the pathologist on the
shoulder, "Any theories?"
   "You don't want to know."  Despite the grim situation he smiled
slightly, remembering the first case they had worked on together.  Will
had been working on the Herald as a photographer at the time.  There had
been a series of grisly murders in the forests around Milngavie near
Glasgow in which the corpses had also been partially consumed.  That was
the case that brought Will to the attention of the Section.
   Will said nothing, waiting for the answer he knew was coming.
   "S.O.C.O.'s found traces of wax at six corners around the statue, I
think there was some sort of ceremony here last night."
   "Serious?"  McCormack asked looking around, "You think they used her as
a sacrifice?"  He didn't believe it for a moment though.
   "Nope."
   "You think they got a little more than they bargained for," Mulder
suggested, his eyes sparking as his mind raced ahead, looking through
possibilities discarding some and keeping others.
   "Yep," Jim looked around at the desolate countryside, it started to
rain lightly.
   "Just like home, eh Scully?" Mulder joked.
   "I don't think there are any serious practitioners in the area,"  Will
said, thinking carefully over what had been said, "the Section would have
at least some of them on file."
   "I'd agree, that coupled with a guestimate of her probable age being
mid to late teens....," his voice trailed off.
   "Oh, great, school kids," Will moaned, before turning to one of the
forensics officers to ask, "Mind if we take a look around, constable?" he
showed the woman his Section 10 ID, her eyebrows rose briefly but she said
nothing, waving him through.

11:21pm.
The Tower Hotel, Crieff.

   "I hate to ask at this time of night, but I don't suppose you have any
rooms available?"  Will McCormack leaned lightly on the bar, trying to
ignore the slightly annoyed pair of F.B.I. agents behind him, "Please?" 
They had been on the move since they arrived in the area and had little
chance to actually book in anywhere, and it was starting to look like they
would have to sleep in the car.
   The barman looked up and smiled, "Nope, Will, I'm sorry, but we're full
at the moment," he grinned openly, "But they might!"  he pointed to a
couple in their early seventies who were sitting at one of the tables with
their backs to the bar.
   "The Wolfes?"
   "Aye, still whiskey and soda, Will?" he grinned at a memory that came,
"I remember when you tried to sneak in underage .... Willy."
   McCormack glared at the man in a way that despite making it extremely
clear that he did not appreciate being called 'Willy' he was not really
annoyed, "Nope, I'm driving, and on duty," he turned to look at Mulder and
Scully who both shook their heads, "you'd better make it three cokes."  As
he collected and paid for their drinks he turned to his friends, "Sorry,
Mulder, iced tea isn't very popular here."
   "Root beer?" 
   "Only one place in Scotland I know of sells it, and that's in Glasgow,
sorry," as they approached the table he whispered to them both, "now,
please, behave, you two!"
   Mulder shot Dana a look of pure innocence that said, 'who me?'
   Scully tried not to giggle at the boyish expression on his face .... in
his eyes.
   "You don't mind if we join you?" Will asked, waiting until the two
people turned round and registered their presence, "Dan, Mira."  He barely
had time to put his drink on the table before he was embraced in a three
way hug with the them.
   When Will's father had died a week after his sixteenth birthday, his
mother had come over from Toronto where she was the editor of a newspaper
for the funeral, he had been offered a choice - he could remain at school
in Morrison's, as a Boarder (a live-in student) or return with his mother
to Toronto.  Steve Wolfe, then his best friend, and his grand-parents
offered him a third option: he could stay with them.  It wasn't that he
didn't want to go to stay with his mother, quite the opposite in fact, but
he just didn't want to leave his friends.  The Wolfes who owned, and
managed a few of the farms in the area, quickly came to love him like
another son.  He and Steve were like brothers. 
   "It's been too long," Daniel Wolfe pushed him away after about a
minute, I know you and Jeanette are busy, but still ...., "Glasgow isn't
that far away."
   "I'm sorry," Will said, meaning every word, "it's just that any time we
get a chance, something pops up.  Either an important story, or ...."  His
voice trailed off, he didn't want to mention what it was he did.  They
knew him well enough to tell when he was lying.
   "Sit, please," Mira, a handsome woman even in her mid sixties with hair
of the purest silver, a startling contrast to the dark skin and eyes that
spoke of the gypsy blood in her veins, blood that was even more strongly
evident in her grandson, Steve, the young pilot who had smuggled Mulder
and Scully out of the States less than a week ago, motioned to the empty
chairs around the table, "so, who are your friends?"
   "Mr and Mrs Wolfe," he began, only to be lightly prodded in the ribs by
Mira, who looked away, smiling innocently, "Daniel, and Mira, may I
introduce you to Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, some friends of mine from the
States."
   Introductions were made, and hands shaken, but when Scully shook hands
with Mira....
   "Drabarni!" Mira Wolfe's eyes went wide for a split second before she
composed herself, "you are Gifted!"
   "Uh, thanks," Dana said automatically, looking at Will and Mulder,
unsure as to how she should react to Mira's statement.
   Will just shrugged his shoulders, and took a sip from his coke before
turning to Daniel, "I'm sorry, I hate to ask this of you, but..."
   "You are family!" Daniel said simply, "Ask."
   Will sighed, before he spoke, "We need a place to stay, for tonight at
least, I'm sorry, but we ....."
   "Yes!  Of course you can stay with us,"  Daniel looked slightly
offended that he would consider staying anywhere else but with them.
   "Thanks."
   "You do realise, don't you," Mira added, smiling, "that we'll make you
pay a suitable price."
   "Why don't I like the sound of this?" he asked the ceiling, 

*     *     *

   ".....and so we found Will and Steve standing there, soaking wet and
covered in mud, claiming that they'd been caught in a flash flood!  In
Crieff!"  Daniel Wolfe laughed, slapping Will lightly on the back as he
finished the story. "You know, you never did tell us what happened that
afternoon?"
   Special Investigator William McCormack of Section 10 just stood there
looking embarrassed for a few moments before joining in the laughter,
"Charlie McBride decided to pick a fight with Steve and I," he explained,
still chuckling slightly at the memory, "McBride was the class bully, and
had had it in for us both since primary one.  Mostly we just ignored him,
but this time I just ... lost it.  I mean, my Dad had just died, my Mum
had just flown back to Toronto because of some emergency at the paper.  I
had had enough."  McCormack grinned, "so when we realised that McBride was
following us - we decided to exact a little revenge on behalf of everyone
he tortured at school."
   "What did you do?"  Mulder asked, having his own memories of school bullies.
   "Ambushed him down by the river Earn," he turned to Mira Wolfe, "Only
we ended up almost as muddy as he did," Will's face became sheepish, "I
still think that we came off better than he did."
   "Even though I bathed you both afterwards?"  Mira's expression was
stern, but the love and humour was evident in her voice and the way she
looked at him.
   "Even though," McCormack's face sobered, "I think Charlie's Dad gave
him a beating for it, I'm not sure."
   "Aye, he probably did."
   There was silence for a moment before Mira spoke up, in an attempt to
lighten the conversation's mood which had so suddenly turned dark, "So,
Dana, Fox, how did you meet Will here?"
   Will choked on his coke, and Mulder and Scully just *looked* at each
other, wondering what they could possibly say.  As it turned out they
wouldn't have to bother.

*     *     *

   "So, Dana, Fox, how did you meet Will here?", Mira Wolfe sipped her
drink, a sweet sherry, and eyed the two Americans with interest.  There
was something about them both, the way they sat together.  They way that
neither one had completely relaxed.  And, the sadness in Fox Mulder's eyes
was almost unbearable, she wondered what it was he had lost.
   "Well," Scully began, but was interrupted when Will's cellular rang.
   "Excuse me," with a muttered oath Will pulled out his phone and flipped
it open, "McCormack."  He was silent for a few moments before the colour
drained from his face and he said, in a voice that was almost inaudible,
"Say that again, Jim.  This time slowly."  All the people at the table
knew him well enough to read the expression on his face, Please, God,
don't let me have heard right the first time.
   "I -- I see, thanks, Jim.  I'll see you there in twenty minutes." 
Standing he turned to the Wolfes, "Daniel, Mira, I'm sorry, but we've
really got to go.  Something's come up."
   "Will," they stopped by the door, and Will turned back, just in time to
catch the set of keys that were flying through the air heading directly
for his forehead, "We won't wait up," Daniel grinned at the expression of
thanks on McCormack's face as he gave them a quick two fingered salute
before turning on his heel and walking out of the bar after his friends.
   Mira's eyes remained on the door for a long time after the trio left,
"Be careful, drabarni. Keep them both safe."
   "What is it?" Mulder asked as Will walked towards the Rover, parked on
the street, despite being taller than the younger man, Mulder had to run
to keep up, "where are we going."
   Getting into the car and clicking his seat-belt into place Will
answered, and his words chilled the air in the vehicle, "Jim thinks he has
a tentative ID. for the body we found at the grave."  He was silent for a
few moments before he continued, bringing the car past seventy while still
in the thirty mile-an-hour zone in the town, "It's Maggie Walls."

===========================================================================

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: mcleana@btinternet.com (Alasdair T. McLean)
Subject: New Story - The Innocent 3/3
Date: Fri, 12 May 1995 07:32:46 GMT


You all know the drill.
This story contains characters copyrighted by Chris Carter, and Ten
Thirteen .... Blah, blah blah ..... No offence or copyright infringement
intended.  The rest of the characters and ideas are all mine and 
copyrighted 1995.
This story contains references to real places and institutions, these are
not reflections of the author's view of them, indeed they are used merely
to provide a setting for the story.
This takes place directly after 'Friendly Fire'.

X - Files.
The Innocent - Part III.
by
Alasdair T. McLean

'The truth is out there' :- X - Files.

11:34pm.

   The silver Rover raced through the night towards Perth, its driver
ignoring the legal speed limit and, when he could pushing the car well
over a hundred miles-an-hour.
   "What?"  for once there was equal disbelief in both Mulder's and
Scully's voices.  It was Scully who easily fell into her usual role of
'Scientists Advocate'.  She didn't often have to play that role with Will,
and it escaped none of them that Mulder was having trouble believing what
he'd just heard, "That's impossible, Will, I mean the grave wasn't
disturbed, and that fire damage on the skeleton was recent.  Isn't it more
likely that a local girl was used as some kind of pagan sacrifice in the
witches memory?"
   "No," it was Mulder who answered, "In most pagan religions human
sacrifice is non-existent, and in those few cases where it does occur, and
by few I mean about one out of a billion, the 'victim' is a willing
person.  And, I noticed that the right wrist on our corpse had been
crushed, as  if she'd been violently restrained prior to the barbecue."
   "Why would anyone willingly volunteer to commit suicide in a ritual?" 
Scully didn't bother to hide the horror in her voice.
   "The power, Scully," Mulder explained, "a lot of religions hold that a
willing sacrifice has the power to work ... miracles."  He shrugged, and
then winced, as Will tried to overtake the car in front and had to swerve
to avoid an oncoming car, "Christianity for one."
   "What makes Dr David think that the girl was actually Maggie Walls?" 
Scully asked, not letting her partner side track her.  She noticed that he
was listening carefully as well, this was something he wanted to hear.
   "He faxed photographs of her teeth to local dentists, the replies all
came back negative.  Her teeth were, apparently not in very good
condition.  So, he faxed a copy down to some friends of his at the
University of Glasgow, in the archaeology department, they visually placed
her some time around the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries.  So he's
sent them a bone fragment and has just got the results.  That skeleton
dates back to the seventeenth century."
   Will glanced away from the road and back at the two agents for a split
second as he told them, "And according to analysis of the bones, they've
been severely burned *twice*.  Once in the seventeenth century, and once
very recently.  Yesterday, in fact."
   "It's not possible," Scully whispered, and for once Mulder didn't come
up with a droll comment.  Suddenly she stiffened, her eyes glazing over.
   "Scully," Mulder's voice and eyes were concerned, "you alright?"
   "Wrong....," her voice trailed off, before her blue eyes snapped back
into clarity and focus a second later.  She leaned forward between the two
front seats, tapping Will on the shoulder.  "How soon," she asked, "can we
be at Dunning?"
   "Twenty-five minutes or so," he answered her without hesitation, "Dana,
what....?"
   "Nothing," she shrugged her shoulders, a little frustrated about her
inability to pin down what she was feeling, "A hunch.  A very strong
hunch, that's all."
   "Ah well," he one-handedly fished his Cell-phone out and tossed it to
Mulder, "You might as well call Jim and tell him that we'll be a little
late.  Number eight on the memory."
   Mulder dialled the number.

11:57.
Maggie Walls' grave.

   It was raining again when they arrived at the grave.  Will swung the
car around in the road so its lights lit up the grave.  If it was possible
it looked even more pathetic and lonely in the rain.
   In the beams from the car's headlamps they could see a lone figure
crouched in front of the monument, running slender hands over the cold wet
stone where the words 'Maggie Walls, burnt here - as a witch - 1657'
appeared on the rock.  She had been there for quite some time by her
appearance, she was soaked to the skin.  The light coat she wore providing
next to no protection from the elements.
   When he saw her Mulder's first words were whispered in admiration,
"Good call, Scully."
   The three leapt out of the car, heading up the stone steps, slick with
the rain, intending to take the girl into the warmth of the car.  They
never made it past the top step - thrown back by a unnaturally strong gust
of wind.
   The girl, turned slightly, as if noticing them for the first time.  She
stood up and faced them, illuminated by the headlights' beams.
   Mulder realised who they were facing first, "Maggie?" his voice almost
drowned in the wind and rain somehow carried to the young girl,
staggeringly beautiful despite her windswept appearance.  She nodded once.
   "How?"  Will took a slow step forward, and then, when he was not
prevented, another, and another, until he was standing in front of her,
"how is this possible?"
   When the answer came it was not in a way any of them expected.
   Suddenly the cross began to glow eerily, a low humming sound in the air
that was so powerful that McCormack, Scully and Mulder all had to cover
their ears.  The air around the grave began to crackle with energy.  Will
reached out to try to pull the girl - Maggie, away to safety.
   "NO, WILL, DON'T!"  Scully's shouted warning came just in time.
   The energy lashed out from the top of the stone cross, crackling over
the body of Maggie Walls, who screamed out in mortal agony, a sound that
they would all remember until they died.
   Will was thrown down the steps, landing on something soft and yielding.
   Suddenly there was a shattering explosion of light sound and the
screams stopped, the silence eerie in the rainswept night.
   Looking down he realised what he had landed on.  Mulder and Scully.
   "Didn't know you felt that way about me," Mulder grinned as Will got up
and helped him and Scully to their feet.
   "Sorry," then he saw the car, Jeanette's car.  The windows, every piece
of glass on the car had been shattered by the explosion, "I'm dead," he
said mournfully.
   "My God,"  Scully pushed past them both and ran up the steps to the
grave, not slipping once on the slick stone.  The two men followed her,
instantly realising what had got her attention.
   Slumped on the ground in front of the grave was a young girl.  She was
shaking, cold and wet, and very obviously in shock.
   "Call an ambulance!" Dana ordered, her voice iron as Will and Mulder
both offered their coats.  She took them both, wrapping them around the
young girl.
   Will called the ambulance, while he and Mulder stared at the girl's
face.  The features were, although strikingly similar to the girl they had
seen before the 'explosion', obviously different.
   Mulder bent down, one hand resting on Dana's shoulder, the other on the
young girl's.
   "What's your name?"  Scully was asking.
   "Susie, Susie Walls," she sobbed.

   BTW:-  In case you are interested.  Everything about Maggie Walls, the
monument near Dunning, the cross, the lack of records is true.  She really
was burnt as a witch in 1657, the last woman to be burnt at the stake in
Scotland.