Date sent: Mon, 7 Jul 1997 00:05:46 -0400 (EDT) From: Hamster027@aol.com Title: Ithaqua Author: Hamster E-mail: Hamster027@aol.com Rating: I dunno. PG? PG-13? Mulder uses the d-word once, the s-word is mentioned twice, and the word "hell" is spoken 11 times. Shame on them! LOL Now did you really care about all of that? Category: XRA Keywords: X-File, Mulder/Scully romance (a teeny bit), MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, SpringerAngst (Who? you ask. You'll find out... ;) Summary: Mulder and Scully go to Canada to investigate several mysterious deaths which Mulder believes were caused by the focus of an ancient Indian legend. Scully runs into an old friend as well as making a new one and adding another member to her family. Dedication: {{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{Randi, Carol}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} The high-school graduates!!!! I really couldn't have done this without you guys. Randi, our conversations and exchange of ideas for our stories did *wonders* for my writer's block! And your insanity is appreciated; I now realise I am not alone! LOL So, Randi, just for you, I have made you tall and given you Cary!!! You can't ask for anything more And Randi, despite what you think, I really didn't want you to fall off the stage... Carol, I don't know about shelf-stocker, but you can be my bag-boy... Have you talked to Steven Speilberg yet about the idea? LOL Remember you guys, ALASKA!!! I swear!!! Maybe you'll have to settle for BAKED Alaska in Kansas though... You guys have been great friends. When I first started using AOL, I never imagined I'd actually become as close friends with anyone as I have with y'all. And, Randi, next year I promise I'll invite you to my online b-day bash!! Love you both, H. Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Canada, and the FBI don't belong to me. Mulder and Scully belong to that pompous a-- never mind-- who they call Chris Carter and 1013, even though he doesn't treat them well enough to deserve them. But even Chris Carter can't lay claims to the FBI (although he does own the X- Files) or Canada. Who owns Canada, anyway? Should I be asking permission to use it? Apologies to all Canadians. If I were actually making money off of this, which I'm not, I'd give y'all your share. Murraysville is mine. If there is really a Murraysville (actually Randi told me there is one in Pennsylvania -- course she could be kidding around), then that is not mine, but this one came from my own last name and imagination. Carol and Randi don't belong to me, although characterizations from this story do (what?!? you mean Randi's not a 5'9" Canadian psychic and Carol's not a five-year old? No, I'm afraid not. Randi can't claim that height anymore than I can ). Springer and Cary also don't belong to me (Watch my luck. Someone who knows both of them is probably reading this and is gonna go up to them and say 'Hey, guess what, did you know that you two were in...') although, again, their characterizations do. And I think Springer has the coolest name... ::regaining breath:: There, that wasn't so bad, really, was it? And can you imagine that some of my disclaimers are longer than that? Now, on with the story. Ithaqua Allie At first, she thought the knocking was a part of her dream. She turned over so she was lying on her other side in an attempt to make it go away. It was a good dream, and it didn't need disruption. She closed her eyes even more tightly. She was lying in the arms of a gorgeous man. Okay, she couldn't see him, but she knew he was gorgeous. He felt gorgeous. But the knocking was persistent and she forced herself to rise from her bed and answer the door. On the way, she paused both to put on her terry-cloth bathrobe over her navy, silk pajamas and to glance at the clock. 2:23 AM. Who on earth would be coming by her apartment at 2 AM? But she knew, even before she opened the door and he fell in at her, that it was her partner, Special Agent Fox Mulder. "Mulder, what's wrong?" she asked gently as she looked at his tired eyes and forlorned expression, but she knew what was wrong. It had to do with the last case he had worked on. The one in which a young, orphaned girl who Mulder believed to be psychic had been murdered, a young girl who he was supposed to be protecting. It really hadn't been his fault. It was caused by a slip-up made by a rookie agent who had been assigned to work with him because of his partner's condition. That agent was doomed in this field after his deadly mistake, but more than ruining his own career, he had devastated Mulder. He took the entire burden of guilt onto his own two shoulders, and it was crushing him into the dust. He shook his head slowly. "How are you feeling?" He reached up, put the back of his hand on her forehead, and cringed even though he felt minimal heat. "Have you been resting?" "Mulder, I've been bed-ridden for two weeks. I feel fine. My temperature is no more than a tenth of a degree above normal. I'm coming back to work tomorrow. After all, you could use my company." She smiled, grasped his hand, and pulled him towards the couch. "The real question is how you are. Come sit down." She asked nothing about his feelings, knowing that it wasn't a subject he easily discussed. But she knew exactly how he felt, for all of his emotions, his anger, his guilt, his sadness, the chaos churning inside him, were conveyed to her silently, as they always were. He nodded and followed lifelessly, sitting himself down beside her on the couch. "Scully... I don't think you should come to work tomorrow. I mean, pneumonia is no small thing. I... think..." He broke off and looked at her. "Mulder, it wasn't your fault. You know that. There was nothing you could have done." He nodded slowly. She was right. There was nothing he could've done. He had wanted to be able to trust Jennings as a partner but had ended up putting much too much on the line to keep that trust. he thought to himself wryly. Jennings, being a rookie and knowing no better, had tripped a wire that gave away their location while he and Mulder were attempting to smuggle young Victoria out of the hands of certain unknown government officials who wished to dispose of her cleanly. Both Mulder and the other young man had been shot with tranquilizer darts, and Victoria had been taken. "It was my responsibility to keep her safe, and I didn't." "Mulder..." He looked up. Tears had begun to glisten on his cheeks, but his voice showed no sign of them. She wondered how long it had been since he'd gotten any sleep. Two days? Three days? Or four? Had he slept any since Victoria's death? "How could this happen, Dana? I know she wasn't Samantha. Of course. But it felt so... I don't know... it felt like I was reliving a nightmare. It was my job to protect her, and I failed again. I lost her again..." Scully looked at him, compassion overflowing in her eyes, took his hand, and squeezed it. "Mulder, no. Don't do this to yourself. Right now, I want you to tell me how long it has been since you've had any sleep." He looked at her, his forehead furrowed as if in concentration. "Four days... no, five days. No... four..." "Come here, Mulder." She pulled him back into her bedroom and laid him on her bed. "I want you to sleep. I want you to get as much sleep as you can. Then we'll talk." "But Scully..." "No buts." She gently pulled the thick quilt up around him. When she had finished, she sat beside him and stroked his hair. "I want you to get some sleep, okay?" He nodded slowly. "I'll try, but I don't know if I can.... Believe me, I've tried... but I keep having this nightmare...." "I'm going to stay right here until you fall asleep, okay? And you're not going to have any nightmares." He nodded in response and closed his eyes, too tired to say anything. She ran her fingers through his hair lightly. She knew what he was going through. He needed all of the support she could give him right now. They fell asleep at around the same time, and neither awoke until after eleven am the next morning. *** *** *** His eyes fluttered open. He was refreshed, but confused. It had been the first night since the young girl's death that he had not had horrible nightmares recounting the event. The night had passed quietly. Not one dream. And he knew why. She was there, wrapped in his arms. Her back was against his chest and he held her there solidly. He didn't know what it was about this enigmatic woman, but when he was with her, reality seemed less haunting, even bearable. She was everything to him now... his source of moral support, his lifeline, his confidante, his other half, his partner, his best friend. The only one he trusted. Without her, he was certain he would have withered up and died long ago. He glanced at the clock, trying not to disturb her. Eleven twenty-one. He could afford to remain there a little longer. He squeezed her gently and closed his eyes again, willing himself back to sleep. After a few moments, he was rewarded for his efforts, and he drifted off into slumber. *** *** *** He awoke with a start and looked beside him. She was gone. He stood up, stretched, and glanced at the clock. Had it really been three hours since he had been awake last? He supposed it had. He slowly glided into the kitchen and spotted her sitting on the couch of her living room. She was wearing her glasses and had no makeup on. Her hair was mussed, barely held up in the little ponytail he found particularly endearing, and her cheeks were red. She was still clad in her silk pajamas, but being slightly too large for her, the right shoulder of the midnight blue shirt persistently edged it's way off her shoulder, leaving the pale skin bare despite her efforts to cover it. He was struck by the aura of innocence that surrounded her. He stood still, watching her, for several minutes before she looked up at him and smiled, her rare little- girl smile that he loved. "Up already, Mulder? Why, it's only..." She glanced at her watch. "Two-thirty!! What prompted this?" She smiled to let him know she was joking. "I hope you slept well?" "Better than I have in years. It was amazing. You're a miracle worker or something." He grinned and walked leisurely over to the couch, where he sat down beside her. "What've you got there?" "Are you up for another case, Mulder? Or do you need some time off?" His consideration of his options was brief at best. "I think it would be best for me if I kept working." She nodded and continued. "Apparently, there have been some unexplained deaths in the Continental Ranges of British Columbia, Canada. Along with some strange sightings." He looked interested. "Oh? What kinds of sightings?" She grinned and said just a little bit too seriously, "Oh, you know, Mulder. The usual. Big hairy Sasquatch-type men, strange lights in the sky... no big deal." He grinned. It was so good to see him smile, she thought. He had been so depressed. The rest must have helped. "Where is this?" "Well, the sightings actually took place about ten miles west of Murraysville, a really small town near Mica Creek, British Columbia. Population's about a few hundred." "Not as small as some places we've been, Scully." He grinned. "Well, I think we can assume from my phone conversation with Sheriff Butler that he will not be helping us with this. He was *not* very willing to cooperate. But we have to talk to him again today, along with a hiker who reportedly witnessed one death, but after that, we're on our own. Bring your longjohns, because we're going to be sleeping under the stars for a while..." "Just what I wanted," he remarked idly. Then he grinned at her evilly. "Lying under the stars with a beautiful woman... forced to keep her warm because of the night chill..." She shook her head and grinned playfully. "And what beautiful woman's going to let you do that?" she asked and then added, "I trust this means you really are feeling better." "Yes ma'am. Whatever you did sure worked. I slept more comfortably last night then I have in... years..." He raised his eyebrows jokingly, and, despite her efforts to hide her face, he could tell she had turned red at his comment. "So when do we leave?" "Tomorrow. And right now I want you to go back in there and get some more sleep." He had to admit he was rather tired. He nodded reluctantly and headed into her bedroom. She watched him leave. She was glad he was happy, at least temporarily. He so seldom was. "Oh, and Mulder..." He turned around, waiting for her to speak. "Sleep well." She smiled as he nodded and did the same. He turned back around and entered her bedroom. When she had awakened at almost noon and found herself in his arms, she had to admit it was... well, wonderful. She hated to admit it to herself, but she had stayed there for about ten minutes, savoring every rise and fall of his chest against her back, until she finally gently disengaged herself from his arms, careful not to wake him. She worked hard to turn her concentration back to the case at hand, but kept finding her mind being pulled to Mulder. Finally, after almost forty-five minutes, when she was confidant that he was asleep, she stood and headed to her room to check on him. She found him lying on his side at the edge of the bed. She knelt beside him and gazed at his face. "I can't sleep." She looked at him, startled. She hadn't realized he was awake. She was sure she had made no noise, and his eyes had remained closed. "I heard you breathing," he said in answer to her silent question. "You can't sleep? Would you like something to eat? After all, you haven't had breakfast or lunch." "No, I'm not hungry." "What's wrong then?" "I don't know," he answered. "I don't know. I am tired. Why don't you stay in here and work on that case? Having company seems to help." She nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay. That's fine." She stood up, turned, and walked out the door to get the papers she had been reading. But as she walked back into the room, the smile that shone across her face was so genuine and true, the thoughts soon left him. She sat down in a chair at the corner of the room. Within ten minutes he had fallen asleep. *** *** *** When he next awoke, it was five AM. God, he thought to himself. I really was tired. He yawned and stood slowly, surprised to notice a light shining into the room from the kitchen. He walked out of the bedroom and noticed Scully sitting at her kitchen table writing a letter. To a medical colleague, no doubt. "Up so early?" she asked without turning towards him. "Scully. I have been sleeping for the past fourteen hours. I might have asked the same of you," he responded as he sat down beside her. She looked up for the first time from her letter and shrugged, smiling slightly. "Insomnia." "Does it occur often?" "Not really. But I figured as long as I couldn't sleep, I could catch up on my correspondence..." she grinned sheepishly. "...an area where I am am seriously lacking." "So, is this to a mystery man I should be jealous of?" She grinned wickedly. "Oh definitely, Mulder. He's 6'2" with dark brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes that change every second. And he's athletic... really into ice hockey. Also very bright. A 4.0 student through the medical program at Cornell. Are you jealous yet?" His face took on a look of mock hurt. "Extremely." Then he brightened. "Seriously, who are you writing? Or can you not tell me?" "I was being serious, Mulder." She grinned. "He was my childhood best friend." This time he actually did look a little hurt, although he tried to conceal it. "Ah. What time's our plane for?" "Seven thirty." She glanced at her watch. "Which, I suppose, means I should get ready. I've already packed my knapsack... which reminds me. Pack lightly. We'll probably have to camp out a few days, and we need to save space for food. And a tent, of course." He nodded. "Sounds just great. Can't wait." "And bring hiking boots. We'll probably have to hike up in the Continentals. Shouldn't be too difficult, but still." "Right." "If you don't get going we're never going to make the plane," she said, scolding playfully. He rolled his eyes and said jokingly, "Sure, fine, whatever..." "And now he mocks me!" "Thankya, Scully. God only knows what I'd do without you." He smiled, grabbed his jacket, and walked out the door. "Seven-thirty, Mulder!" she shouted after him. "Sure thing, Scully." *** *** *** They arrived in Murraysville, British Columbia at about 9:30 AM. As they exited the small charter plane, Mulder stretched and rubbed his back. "Can't beat the leg-room in those luxury planes..." She glanced at him. She had been scrunched enough, and she could only imagine the cramps he must have. She grinned. "I don't think you're going to find a masseuse here, Mulder..." She looked at the tiny airport. There was one plane in the lot, but other than that, the facility looked as though it might not even be in operation. It looked like just another one of the abandoned warehouses they had an odd habit of frequenting. "And look at our welcome party...." She laughed. There was noone anywhere. "Sure we didn't take a wrong turn?" "No, according to this map, if we go.... one mile in that direction...." He pointed at a grove of trees. "We'll run into Main Street." "Well, let's go." They removed their bags from the back of the plane, waved the pilot of the craft off, and headed in the direction Mulder had pointed. "So let me get this straight in my head, Scully." He looked down at her, and she nodded in indication for him to continue. "There have been five deaths. All unexplained... you haven't seen the autopsy reports yet though. And what, they were killed by an Oinvisible mass of air?' We've come up here to investigate an Oinvisible mass of air?' Sounds... interesting." "Mulder, I don't want to be here any more than you do, but..." He grinned and changed his tone. "Dana Scully, after all the time I have known you, I'd think you'd be able to tell when I'm giving you a hard time. This actually sounds rather intriguing. It reminds me of an old legend that actually involves this area of North America...." She glanced up at him, shocked. "I should have known you'd take this seriously! Mulder, we have an eyewitness account from a drunk hiker. We can't trust a statement like that. We're coming up to find what *did* kill those people, and it was not a..." She pulled the papers she was holding to her face and looked over them. "Quote, OAn invisible mass of air so big round that it swallowed up everything in its path and made so much noise that I could barely hear afterward. For a second I thought that it was just my mind playing tricks on me because I had had seven beers before I fell asleep, but I think it was real...' end quote. Mulder, what kind of statement is that?" He looked at her. "Okay, okay. So maybe we won't be relying solely on what he has to say. But at least we *have* an account." "Boy, are we lucky. Whoop-de-do. But seriously, Mulder, I think we're going to have to go on what we find, and what we find alone. I can't accept the explanation given by a drunk man that a couple was mysteriously swallowed up by a huge nothingness." "Speaking of which, have you established any patterns in the victims?" "Mulder, I thought you said you were going to read the information I've compiled on the plane." His face colored slightly. "Well, I fell asleep almost as fast as *you* did, so..." She shook her head and began. "No similarities at all. A Caucasian couple camping out, two Asian women hiking, and a black man, also hiking. I have no clue, Mulder." "And what can we determine the cause of death to be?" "Well, I couldn't find reference to one at first, so I made a few phone calls, and it was, get this, in each case, the eruption of the thalamus in the brain. Other factors could have been exhaustion, torn muscles, but I believe this eruption would have killed them before the other factors had a chance to." "Each case?" "Each case. I don't know what the hell happened out there, but whatever it was, it was definitely..." "The Wendigo, Scully. Ithaqua..." "What?" He smiled down at her mysteriously, his expression filled with promise of the long night of theory- explanations that awaited them. She shook her head, smiling. They both then grew quiet and were still pondering the mysterious circumstances when they did, as promised, reach Main Street. "Is Sheriff Butler in?" Scully asked the nice-looking secretary inside the police office. "Yes. Hold on one minute." The woman smiled as she walked into the back office. Scully looked up as a tall, grey-haired man walked out of the office and walked over to greet them. His face was harsh, as if he would rather be fishing in shorts in Antarctica than about to talk for two seconds with them. "May I help you?" "Yes, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, and this is my partner, Fox Mulder. We spoke on the phone." His face became even colder. "Ah. Yes." After an uncomfortable silence of several seconds, Mulder spoke up. "Is there any way we could see the autopsy results? We were only provided with a summary and were never provided with the specifics..." Scully cut him off gently. "Could you tell me who performed the autopsy?" The man ran an aged hand through the silver strands of hair. "The bodies were sent up to a specialist in Chicago. We were informed the next day that he wanted to come up to have a look around. His name was Taylor. Dr. Taylor." Mulder noticed Scully's face brighten considerably from its frustrated demeanor. "Dr. Taylor? From Chicago? What was the first name?" "Um, hold on a second..." He walked back to his office with Scully on his heels and Mulder trailing shortly behind. "You can go talk to him yourself. He just arrived a few minutes ago. I imagine he's checking in at Ms. Lawrence's Bed and Breakfast down the street.... Here it is! Springer Taylor, M.D." Mulder looked at her. Her face glowed. He felt a twinge of jealousy, although he he knew he shouldn't. Then she spoke. "Okay, we'll go talk to him. Thanks a lot." She grabbed his arm and practically pulled him out of the building. Once they were outside, he looked at her and asked, "So, who is this Dr. Springer Taylor?" She looked up at him, beaming. "A... friend," was all she said. He was on her heels as she turned into the small, two-story bed and breakfast. Mulder walked up to whom he assumed was the owner and asked quietly, "Two rooms, please." "I'm sorry, but I only have one available. That nice-looking young man over there got the first, and I only have two." Scully spoke up, surprising Mulder. "One's fine." Then she pulled him toward the stairs, all the while gazing at a dark-haired man standing across the lobby. "Don't you want to see him, Scully?" "Mulder! I haven't seen him since... at least three Christmases ago! I don't want to seem too over- anxious..." Suddenly, a voice came from the other side of the room. "Dana!! Dana Katherine!" She spun around and grinned, a playful grin Mulder had never seen on her lips. "Springer!" She ran full force into his open arms. As she entered them, he lifted her off the ground and spun her around. She buried her head in his shoulder and hugged him tight. Mulder suddenly realised that he recognized the man. He knew him so personally, yet he had never met him. He was exactly how Mulder had imagined the man from the hundreds of childhood "Dana photos" Maggie Scully had shown him while her daughter was missing for those three long months. Still holding her off the ground, giving no heed to the dirt and sweat drenching her hiking shorts and shirt or the caked mud on her boots, he looked into her face. "Haven't changed at all, Dana-bug. Except I think you're lighter. Have you lost more weight? If you lose any more you'll float away." He gave her a disapproving glance. "Either that or you're shrinking. Keep that up, Miss Five-Foot-Two, and you'll be shorter than Margaret Katherine," he chided, referring to their mutual 10-year old niece. Then he shook his head admonishingly. "I still can't believe my kid sister decided to marry a Scully." "Keep *that* up and you'll be seeing stars, smart-ass," she returned as she squirmed out of his bear-hug. "Just like that time when I were thirteen when I punched you out for making fun of Melissa..." They both grew quiet suddenly, as if out of respect for Dana's beloved sister, or maybe it was an unspoken custom between the two. Mulder marveled at her openness with this old friend. He became even more awed. "Mulder!!!!!" He jolted out of his reverie. "What?" "Where have you been," she laughed, holding Taylor's hand in both of hers. "I've been yelling your name for at least a minute!" "Oh... sorry." "I want you to meet Springer Taylor. Springer, this is Mulder, my..." She hesitated then, trying to come up with one word to encompass the entirety of their relationship. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes telling him so much. He was her partner, her confidante, her best friend... Finally deciding there was no word to describe them, she resorted to simply repeating his name. "This is Mulder. Fox Mulder." "Hey there." Springer stuck his free hand out in Mulder's direction. "Oh..." He grasped the man's hand firmly, his face cloudy. "Nice to meet you," he said with false sincerity. Taylor looked at him questioningly and then released his grip. "Likewise." Then he whispered something undistinguishable by Mulder's ears to Scully, which only increased Mulder's anger. "No, Springer Spaniel. Don't worry about it." She smiled at him, released his hand, and grasped Mulder's tightly. "See you in a little while. Professional attitude in place," she said, grinning at Taylor. He groaned. "It's medical school all over again..." She laughed brightly and looked at Mulder. "C'mon," she whispered as she pulled him toward the stairs. "I want to get changed, then we can question the witness. That sound okay?" He laughed, moving a slightly possessive hand to the small of her back. "Sure thing, Dana-bug." *** *** *** He sat on the large double bed, talking to her through the slightly cracked bathroom door as she changed from her dirty shirt, shorts, and hiking boots to a pair of khakis and a button-down denim short, autopsy appropriate. "I recognized him, Scully, and I just realised where from." She came out with her hair pulled into a ponytail, holding a pair of brown oxford loafers in her hand. "Oh, really? Enlighten me," she said with a smile as she sat beside him, slightly closer than necessary given the size of the bed. Mulder didn't mind. "When you were... gone... your mom and I grew pretty close. Closer than *my* mother and I have ever been. But I was pretty torn up throughout the whole thing, ya know? Your mom was constantly trying to help me through it. One time, we went through all these pictures... a few hundred, at least. From your birth, through your elementary days, to high school, medical school, clear to the present. Your whole life in pictures." He smiled at the recollection, but then shuddered. She grasped his hand with hers and squeezed it. "There was a boy with you..." He grinned then, thinking about Mrs. Scully's meticulous organization. "I think he appeared around ODana's second day of third grade' and disappeared shortly after ODana enters the FBI'. I recognized him from a photo of you two after your high school graduation. You must be really close." She nodded absently, looking at him seriously, studying his facial features and what was hidden beneath. "Do you still blame yourself for that, Mulder? Don't. Please don't." To that he looked away, toward the window of the small room. "Don't, Mulder. It was never your fault. Never." She put an arm around his waist and squeezed tightly, and, in response to this, he snaked an arm around her shoulders and smiled down at her. "So, whaddaya say, Dana-bug, ready to interview our one and only *living* witness?" "You stop calling me that and maybe, just maybe, I'll cooperate." He took on the appearance of mock hurt. "How come I don't get to call you any cute nicknames?" "Because noone does. And if Springer knows what's good for him, he'll stop, because if he doesn't, he'll be missing a few teeth." "She instills fear in the hearts of men..." She laughed. "Only men who don't bend to my will." *** *** *** After an hour with Jim Morgan, it became apparent they would learn nothing more than what he had already stated, that he had been witness to an "invisible noise, so loud, it threatened to drive me deaf, so powerful, it near Obout picked me up with it. Before it hit full-force, it called my name. It sounded like my mother... but she's been dead for years, so I knew it wasn't. I ran and ran, then collapsed. Then it was gone." It soon became evident to Scully that the autopsy would be much more progressive. She reached for her cellular phone and dialed Springer's number. Mulder listened to the one-sided version of the conversation. "Hey... Yea, I'm ready if you are.... Uh-huh..... Of course Mulder's coming.... What? Yea, the most recent body..... What? What?! Disappeared? What do you mean it disappeared? A dead body can't just walk off... No, Springer. I have no idea. No idea at all. Well, as long as we have one body left. The most recent, right? The lone hiker?....... Okay. We'll be there in a few minutes. Yea. What? Yea... yea... yea..." She stopped there and grinned. "You know that I do, Springer...... Hmm? Oh, I wrote you a letter. Yea, last night. What do you mean, 'It's about time'? You haven't written me either.... Yea, yea, yea. Anyway, we're on our way, okay? Yes, he is. Mm-hmm. Bubye." She hung up the phone and turned to Mulder, quickly regaining her purely professional demeanor. "The first three bodies have disappeared. No sign anywhere. They're still looking in the morgue." He nodded. "Well, I guess we're off to witness an autopsy. We'll look into *that* later." *** *** *** They arrived shortly thereafter, Scully donning scrubs, and Mulder taking perch in a corner of the small room. Scully looked across the room at Springer, and he nodded for her to begin. She turned on the microphone and began her exterior analysis. "Male, Caucasian, 6'1", approximately twenty-eight years of age. Note..." She suddenly stopped the tape and motioned for Springer. "Do those look like bites to you?" "My God... yea." "What do you think? Wild animal after death? From the exterior analysis it doesn't seem to be the cause of death. But Springer, they look human..." "I don't know, Dana. I don't know... just note it and we'll look into it as we go on." "Right." She turned the recorder back on. "Note several bite marks, origin... unknown. Location, left shoulder, neck, ribs. Several gashes are present on the body, mostly along the sides and... back..." They went on, meticulously examining the corpse, until the cause had been determined. Physical and mental exhaustion accompanied by hypothermia from the prolonged stay in the cold environment. The muscles of the man's legs were torn from his frantic pace over such a long period, which was probably what led to his fall. The bites were not human, but were unidentifiable as anything else also. The man's thalamus had also erupted. Scully looked at her watch as she pulled off the scrubs. "That took longer than I expected..." "What time is it?" Mulder asked. "Almost six." Springer looked up. "What do you say I treat you two to dinner?" Scully looked up at him. "I'd love to, really, but I need to look over these files to get a better idea of what's going on. But I'm sure Mulder would be happy to." With that, she looked up at Mulder, her request evident in her eyes. He nodded slightly, never having been one to turn her down. "Um... yea... okay..." "Great," Springer said. "Is there anywhere to eat here?" "I saw a little family-owned bar and grill down the road." Scully grinned, praying that she was doing the right thing. "Well, you boys have a good time. Don't stay out too late..." *** *** *** They soon arrived at the bar and seated themselves at the bar. Neither said a word for a while other than to order their drinks. They took slow, long sips, staring in the mirror behind the bar. The whole scene reminded Mulder of a tavern in an old Western film. Suddenly, Taylor broke the silence. "You know, I've been trying to figure you out since I met you this morning, Mulder, and I think I finally have." Mulder looked at him, startled. "Wha..?" Taylor grinned. "I know men, Mulder." He stopped and considered this statement, laughing at himself. "Probably because I am one... You are insanely jealous of me, aren't you?" Mulder's face turned red and he glared at Taylor menacingly. "Listen, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but..." "You're in love with her, and you can't stand to see that she and I are so close, or something along those lines. Believe me, I've seen plenty of men go through it. They fall for her totally, she's too preoccupied or oblivious to notice, and in the end it comes back to me; they seem to get it in their heads that there's more between us than there truly is, and it makes them crazy." "I --" Taylor cut him off. "No, but you're different, see. I don't know why all those other guys fell for her -- not saying that she's not amazing; she is -- I think it was one of those things where... they want her because they can't have her, ya know? But see, you're different. You --" He looked at Mulder, who had turned bright red and was staring down at his scotch. "What the two of you have is more pure, more true, more sincere." Mulder looked up. "You don't know what you're talking about. Scully and I don't feel like that about each other." Taylor shook his head sardonically. "I think I know more about what I'm talking about than *you* do. I mean, lord, I've known Dana since she was three. I've seen her go through every phase of her life: tomboyish elementary schooler, slightly awkward but adorable nevertheless middle schooler, high school beauty -- she was on homecoming court all four years and won her senior year; did you know that?--, brainy med schooler, devoted FBI agent. I know Dana. She's like a sister. She's totally oblivious when it comes to anything other than her work -- but she's not oblivious to you. She cares so much for you. I don't know what you did to earn it, but she cares for you in a way she's never cared for me. You should make the most of it." Mulder shook his head. "You don't understand --" "You just keep telling yourself that, Mulder." Mulder bowed his head in defeat. It was amazing. This guy could see right through him. "She's so open with you. So free. She's never been able to be that way with me. I don't deserve her." Taylor grinned. "See that's the trick. I never deserved her either. But despite her strength, Dana's an extremely naive woman around those she trusts. You make her believe that you deserve her, and she'll accept it as truth for the rest of her life." He laughed. "Worked for me!" Mulder shook his head, smiling. "She loves you so much..." "See, there's the main difference." He looked at a scar on his finger fondly. "When we were little, she made me her blood brother. At the last minute, I backed out because I was scared to death of the sight of blood. Let me tell you, Dana got me over that fear pretty fast. She ran after me, threw me on the ground, wielding this kitchen knife above my head, and cut my finger. I mean, this huge gash! She was a demoness, I tell you. But from that moment on, we were inseparable. And I believed until I was ten that she was truly my sister because of that. But that's what she is to me, see. She's my sister. And I'm her brother. Literally, now, since my real sister is now a Scully." He grinned. "Throughout our high school and college years, I was her protector. And she hated me for it sometimes. There was this one time, when we were fifteen, when I followed her on her date with a friend of mine because I didn't trust him. I was sitting two rows behind them in the theatre. He tried to kiss her, and from where I was sitting, it looked like she didn't want him to, so I jumped up and right there in the theatre, while the film The Empire Strikes Back was playing, beat him to a bloody pulp. She didn't speak to me for months. But I was her brother; that's what I was supposed to do." Mulder felt his cheeks heat up. If only he had been able to protect his sister like that.... "I can tell you're still doubtful," Springer continued. Mulder gulped; inaudibly, he hoped. "Then you should know I'm engaged." "What?" "I'm engaged. To a woman Dana introduced me to in med school." He laughed softly. "Last year, Dana called every night for at least a month asking, OSpringer, are you going to ask her? Are you going to pop the question?' She'd give me pep talks on how I should ask. I finally asked Lauren to marry me. The wedding is in four months." "You're... engaged?" "Yes." Springer laughed softly. "So I wish you'd stop seeing me as such a rival. I'm not. The only thing holding you back, my friend, is yourself." "You're engaged." He shook his head. "I'm such a jealous bastard." He looked up. "And that is *not* admitting that I feel the way you seem to think I do about Scully." "Whatever, Mulder. Whatever." They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Mulder was the first to speak up. "How Obout telling me some Dana stories?" Springer laughed. "I've got a million... okay, here's one. There was this one time, when Dana was nine and I was eleven, that some friends and I decided to form a summer baseball league. Bill, Dana's older brother, was on it, and so was Charlie. There were seventeen of us, enough for nine on one team, and eight on the other,which was mine. Well, we decided we couldn't play unless we found a eighteenth player. Dana volunteered, because she had always been great at baseball because of her brothers, but the other guys on the teams wouldn't let her play because she was a girl. Well, when Dana heard this, she..." "What did Dana do?" came a voice from behind them. Springer turned around, beaming. "Dana-bug! Would you care to finish the story?" "Sure. I walked up to Johnny Martin, that really big kid, and I slugged him. And he came crashing down. After that, I think they were scared of me, because they let me play whatever position I wanted the entire summer." Mulder looked up at her, his eyes gleaming, and she sat down next to him. "I thought you were going to go over your notes." "I did. Would you believe four times? I figured I couldn't get anywhere until I at least heard this wild theory of yours..." "Scully's interested in the Wendigo? Wow..." "Given that I can think of absolutely no other explanation for this whole thing..." "Do you want to go back to the inn? I can tell you there..." "Actually... no. Tell me here." "Whatever you want, Scully. Something to drink?" "Um... scotch I think. And lets get a booth." She ordered her scotch and the three of them carefully made their ways through the crowd, which was quite substantial given the size of the town, to a back booth. "Shoot, Mulder." "Okay, Scully. here goes. Wendigo. Sometimes referred to as Ithaqua. According to the Algonquin, the Wendigo is an unfortunate human who has been transformed into a twisted, hairy, cannibalistic parody of a man; he was created by a like-named, giant, semi-humanoid spirit of lonely places. It's found only in the far North and is often accompanied by blizzards and freezing sleet, but not always. Interested yet, Scully?" She could only nod slightly, urging him to continue. "Only the very fortunate have glimpsed this entity and lived to tell the tale. It has been described at being between sixty and one hundred feet tall and a dirty pinkish grey in color. He has high, hunched over shoulders, a drooping long head with a continually gaping mouth, and bright eyes floating in deep, dark sockets. Its feet are never seen; it seemingly flies dead slow on even the faintest of winds..." He grinned and looked at her. "I'm surprised you haven't cut me off, Scully." "It won't be too much longer. But for now, go on. This would make an interesting science fiction book." She smiled, and he continued. "Human victims are either transformed into the insane cannibal that once stalked them or found frozen solid and looking as if they had been dropped from GREAT heights. All would seem to have died in great agony. The Greater Wendigo preys on lonely travelers by one of three means. One is to create a monstrous icy blast of wind which stalks and flings the victim into the air. The second is by scooping up the victim with one of it's long, drooping arms and long bony clawed "hands," which reports tell are almost twenty feet long. The most insidious method is to drive the victim insane by slowly stalking him and creating a phobia of being followed even without actual evidence thereof. The victim begins to run, and run, and run until fatal exhaustion sets in. It's unearthly howl can mimic voices of loved ones or that of wild animals or ferocious winds, but the actual howl has been described as, well... indescribable. It's said that sanity falters when the Wendigo cries out your name.... "The Greater Wendigo is greatly feared by minor nomadic tribes of Canada and Siberia, who have been known to leave human sacrifices to it; organized worship is pretty rare, though... Anything else you'd like to know, Scully?" "Mulder, how can you even propose that?" He grinned. "So inform me, my dear Scully, as to your logical explanation." Her face reddened and she looked to Springer for support. When he offered none, merely mouthing "You're on your own, Dana-bug" with a gleam in his eye, she began, "I... well... it's obvious that..." She stared down at her scotch. "The victims were all found in the woods, having been exposed to sub-zero temperatures for over twelve hours apiece. This resulted in the icy film as well as the hypothermia. The eardrums and thalamus... can be explained by the altitude." "And explain to me about all of the torn muscles throughout the latest victim's legs." "Well *something* scared him, and he ran. But unlike you, I believe it was most likely a wild animal of some kind or his own paranoia, this paranoia a possible result of hearing this legend of yours too many times." "And the human teeth marks?" "We don't... I don't... I don't..." Suddenly, bowing her head so he could not see her face, she coughed and quickly pulled her hand to her upper lip. Muttering a hurried apology, she stood up and almost ran out the door. Mulder looked down at the top of the table. Gleaming in the light was a single drop of bright red blood. "Oh, shit..." Mulder threw a worried glance at Taylor before running after her. "Wait for me, Mulder..." "No. I'll take care of this," he called over his shoulder. "It's my fault..." "What the hell is wrong with her? And you? What's your fault?" "Don't worry about it. Go back to your room. Get some sleep. Long day ahead of us tomorrow." He ran out the door and down the road to catch his small partner. When he caught up with her, he took a hold of her shoulders, spun her around to face him, and looked her in the eye. Her legs gave way under her, and she fell to her knees; he knelt down so his face was even with hers. "Dana, why didn't you tell me this was still happening," he said, slightly angered. "God, Dana, I --" She cut him off with a look, blood still trickling from her nose. "I am *fine*, Mulder. Yea, it happens once in a while, but it's something I can do nothing about. You have to *accept* this, Mulder. And I'm *okay*..." Her eyes lowered to the ground. "At least for now..." "Dana, Dana, Dana... how can you say you're okay, even now? You just collapsed. Right in front of me. Is there anything else you aren't telling me about? Headaches? Nausea?" She looked at him sternly. "No! The nosebleeds... that's it." She reached up to wipe her nose with the only thing with which she had to do so, her sleeve. Mulder quickly stopped her, pulling a tissue from his pocket. "Are you sure?" The worry on his face was so powerful that she could barely look at him. She had headaches... frequent, furious headaches... and dizziness spells... but she couldn't let him worry. She looked away from his face. She could never be openly dishonest to him while looking into his beautiful, hazel eyes. "I'm sure, Mulder. That's it." "Why didn't you want me to see it?" "Because you would only worry more. And you would begin to have second thoughts about my ability to work. And I would..." She stopped. "Go on." She shook her head and was about to say no when she caught sight of a figure just over Mulder's shoulder. "Mulder! That man! He's trying to sneak the last victim's body out of the police headquarters!" "Mulder's head jerked around. "My god..." He stood up and looked down at her. "You stay here. I'll be right back." "No Mulder. I'm coming with you." "No you're not." She stood up slowly and deliberately. "Well how do you think you're going to stop me?" He shook his head, smiling at her determination despite his worry. Together, they ran after the figure carrying away the body. "Don't move! F.B.I.!" Mulder yelled with as much authority as he could muster. The man looked at Mulder over his shoulder. He was an old Indian man, reminding Mulder immediately of Albert Holstein. The man looked back in front of him and continued walking as slowly as before. "Stop!" Finally, the man stopped and turned to them, still holding the dead body. Scully spoke up. "Sir, can you explain to us why you are taking this body?" The man looked at her curiously, studying her. Then he nodded, as if in approval of her, and begun. "We must take this man in order to appease his murderer." Scully appeared shocked. "To *appease* his murderer? Who killed this man?" The man looked past her in vague contemplation. "The Walker of the Winds." "Who?" Mulder looked excited. "The Wendigo, Scully! Ithaqua!" The old man looked at them both thoughtfully once again. "I see you have many questions. The answers are what you seek, am I right? You should come with me. I have something to show you. You will accept it." Mulder nodded and was about to follow when he turned to Scully. "Dana... are you sure you're up to this?" "I'm fine, Mulder." He glanced at her doubtfully with a worried expression but nodded. *** *** *** The pair followed the man for about a mile. He finally arrived at a small hut. "You stay here," he said, motioning to them. He ducked into the small facility, and when he came back, he was no longer carrying the body. He gestured to the woods surrounding them. "This is the territory of Ithaqua. His territory spans nearly fifty miles. He is very feared among my people. Anyone who crosses this line without the Walker's permission is subject to death," he explained, gesturing to an line invisible to Mulder and Scully. "These people did not have his permission. It is a grave happening, but it was their own fault. The Wendigo demands a sacrifice. It has told me that it craves the bodies it has killed. This is unusual for it, but if this is what it wants, we must not deny it." Scully looked perplexed. "So you're offering these bodies as sacrifices to this Ithaqua?" "We have tried to make the people of Murraysville and other cites aware of this threat; they choose to ignore us, so innocent hikers who have not been warned die. You can help me make them aware. They cannot let anyone enter these woods; they are sacred and belong to Ithaqua alone. You must tell them." Mulder smiled and leaned close to Scully's ear, whispering, "You were right." "About what?" she whispered back. "This Ithaqua being a joke?" "No, Scully. We're going camping." "Mulder..." She gave him a warning glance, but he ignored it, smiling broadly. *** *** *** After having hiked about a half a mile in silence, no longer having the old man present as a guide, Scully was ready to admit that they were lost. "Mulder," she spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence in an almost eerie way, "Why don't we just face it: we're lost. We're lost in the Continental Mountains." She groaned inwardly. Mountains. They were lost on a mountain range. What could be worse? "I faced that fact around five minutes ago. What should we do?" "I say we just stay here and sit tight until morning. When it's light enough, maybe we can make our way back to the town." "No way, Scully. It's been freezing since dusk. We can't just stop moving. If we stop moving and it gets any colder, hypothermia could set in. For God's sake, Scully, you're recovering from pneumonia!" He looked down at her, concern evident in his eyes. She sighed. "Mulder, I know all of that. But if we keep walking, we'll just get ourselves more lost. And Mulder, you HAVE to trust me when I say I'm FINE." She paused and looked down at her clothes. "And I must say I'm dressed rather warmly. I think our best bet is going to be to sit down right where we are and wait it out." His gaze remained on her, and the worry in his eyes was even stronger. She looked up at him, reassuring him with their silent communication. "Dana..." "Mulder, you have to trust me. You do trust me, don't you?" He smiled slightly and bowed his head, staring at the ground. "Of course I trust you. With my life. You know that." She smiled at his testimony and, after groping in the darkness for his hand, took it in her own and held it. "And you realise that it's so dark that I can barely see YOU, much less make out any kind of path that we should follow, so it would be SAFER to just stay here?" He nodded and looked up at her, his head tilted slightly to the side. "You're right." She smiled as he looked around in the darkness. "This area looks as clear as any to sleep." "I agree." With that, she sat down and stretched on her back, using her hands as a pillow under her head. He stretched out beside her, lying on his side, his head propped up on his hand. He gazed at her closed eyes and kept his gaze there when she opened them and gazed back at him, smiling. Without thinking, he spoke. "You're so beau..." Realising what he was about to admit, however, he decided instead to tell her the second thing that was on his mind. "Brave. So incredibly brave. I wish I had your strength." She held his gaze for a long moment and whispered quietly, "I'm not so brave. Not brave at all. If you only knew, Mulder..." She turned over onto her stomach and gazed off into the darkness. "But you are." He gazed at her profile, barely visible in the dark. After a long pause, he spoke again. "You know, it's amazing. You can know someone so... intimately, yet not know them at all." She turned to look at him and was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. "Yea... but that doesn't mean you can't try to. That doesn't mean it's too late." He smiled even wider, and she returned the smile before diverting her gaze to concentrate on a point ahead of her, or maybe nothing at all. "Tell me a story, Mulder." "What kind of story?" "Tell me about when you were happy." "I'm happy right now." She turned toward him and smiled. "Yea... me too... but tell me about your childhood." "When I was happy," he said, as if explaining the assignment to himself. "Yes." He followed her gaze into the distance, focusing on the point where it appeared her gaze was drawn. After a long silence, he spoke. "When I was little, only five or six, my family had a summer place in Martha's Vineyard; you know the one. My dad and I were very close when I was that young. Every summer until then, he had tried to find something that he could teach me that I could become really good at. I suppose he found what he was looking for in swimming. He taught me how when I was five and helped me learn every stroke he knew. When I was eight, he started canoeing us out to the middle of the lake, where he would instruct me to jump out and swim to shore. He would canoe beside me the whole time. I thought I could never make it the first time. But he stayed right beside me and let me rest on the canoe when I needed to. I made it. At the time, I thought that was the greatest accomplishment in the world. I started doing it every day until, one day, I didn't need the support of the canoe at all. Then he started racing me. I got good enough to beat him in time. However, as sisters go, Sam decided she wanted to join us. After a few days, she finally convinced Dad, if not me, to let her come. She and Mom took one canoe out, and Dad and I took the other. Perfect opportunity..." He broke off for the first time and grinned in recollection. "My dad wasn't paying attention, so while he was talking about something or other, I aimed our canoe at the side of theirs, gathered up all the strength a eight and a half year old boy has, which was a fair amount considering my swimming routine, and rammed the side of their canoe. It wasn't hard enough to tip them -- I hadn't meant to do that at any rate -- but it was definitely hard enough to jostle the canoe. Sam started screaming, OFox don't you ever, EVER do that again!' over and over, but Dad thought it was funny. We did it a few more times, never tipping them, and pretty soon they were just extremely annoyed, but I suppose they'd realised we weren't going to tip them. But the last time --" He laughed softly. "I think Dad had sort of been holding our canoe back before, making sure we didn't tip them. But the last time, I think something distracted him and he forgot, because I started up full speed. Sam and Mom looked at me and screamed just before impact and -- they made a valiant effort to stay upright, they did, but they toppled. They both swam up and were *soaked* to the bone, and the canoe was full of water. I took one look at them, and, according to them, got this terrified look on my face, dove into the water, and swam to shore faster than I ever had. My dad clocked it. My mom had a fit right when she came to shore, but she forgave me soon enough. It was a great moment..." He glanced at her. "That was the last summer my family was really close. After that, my dad started spending a lot more time with his job; he didn't have time for us anymore. My parents started getting into fights... mostly about my dad's job... but before that... I was happy. I was really happy." He smiled at her absently. "Your turn, Dana. Tell me about a time when you weren't perfect..." He grinned. "Or does such a time exist?" A deep sadness made its way to her face, and, although she tried to make it less evident, Mulder caught it. After a beat, he spoke. "What happened?" "You don't want to hear about this..." She turned her head away from him, but he caught her chin with his hand and turned it back towards him. "Yes, I do. Unless you're not comfortable telling me. Then I would never ask." She sighed and nodded, turning away again. He was beginning to think she was not going to speak when she did. "I was 15, a freshman in high school, and I fell madly in love with this guy, a junior. Springer and I had always been best friends. All my life. It was a given. It was always, OOh, here come Dana and Springer.' Until Joseph came along. Joseph Mallory." She sighed again in remembrance. "Actually, Springer and I had been best friends since preschool. It was the kind of friendship you don't have to question, but you constantly test, because you know it will always be there. I must've put him through hell... I met Joseph when I was a freshman, which was when I fell for him. Springer hated Joseph. With a passion. But after what seemed like an eternity, Joseph finally became aware of my affection. I thought he was the world. I revolved around him. Only now do I realise it was Springer who held me up throughout those years... he was wonderful. If I ever had a problem, he was there. If I needed help, he was there. But I almost forgot about Springer during all this. How could I ever forget about Springer? He gave me everything and asked for nothing in return. I gave him next to nothing, gave everything to Joseph, and Springer never asked me for anything. The friendship we had, though, was amazing. He was willing to put up with me throughout this. He supported me. Because I suppose he knew I'd come back to him. I needed him. He was my best friend, my confidante, my sole support. I guess it was a lot like our friendship..." She paused as he opened his eyes suddenly. "I'm your best friend?" "Yea. You are." She smiled. "And you know you're mine. You are and always will be." She smiled. "Finish your story." "Okay. We had an amazing friendship. When I was in eighth grade, my mom told me that he kissed me when I was three. She said she knew from that point that we were destined to spend our lives together." At this she laughed slightly, but it was a sad laugh, full of the memories of broken dreams. "I almost thought so too, until Joseph. We went out for two years. During which time, a lot happened. My first everything was with him. Can you believe that? We were really happy, though. Melissa just about killed me when she found out about some of the things we did. I think that was more based on her sisterly love for Springer than any dislike for Joseph or need to protect me as a sister. But either way, that was her job, to look out for her little sister and to be loyal to Springer. Joseph graduated my sophomore year and went off to school at Berkeley. I must have written him every day. Springer and I grew closer after he left, which was wonderful. I don't think we'd still be friends today if it hadn't been for that. But despite my friendship with Springer, I followed Joseph out there as soon as I graduated." "So what happened?" She paused, a sad tone taking over her voice. "It happened during my sophomore year. He was on his way home from a party. A party he hadn't bothered to tell me about. A party where he had apparently gotten laid by three different girls. But that didn't matter anymore after the news came.... Apparently, both he and the friend who was supposed to be driving him home had had too much to drink. *Way* too much to drink. They hit a tree going seventy miles per hour. They both died instantly. At that moment I dropped all of my classes, and came home to Washington to finish school. I couldn't bear to stay out there. It was like my life was shattered." He opened his eyes and wrinkled his forehead. "I'm sorry." "Springer stuck by me though. I got through that because of him. He was with me constantly. He didn't want me to be alone. He must have come down from Cornell every weekend to make sure I was okay. And during medical school, he must've called me almost every night... he always said it was to ask me a 'question I was sure to know the answer to through my vast medical background,' but the real reason for his calls was that he wanted to make sure I was alright. That I was handling life okay again. After all I'd put him through, he was still right there. I love him for that. He's still one of the dearest friends I have. Next to you." She smiled sincerely at him, then her expression changed. "I shouldn't have told you that. I'm sorry." He looked confused. "Why?" "I don't know.... It's just that... well..." "I wanted to hear. You can tell me anything, anytime. You know that." She smiled. "Well, there's the tragedy of my first romance. You asked for it." She smiled. "So now it's your turn. Tell me a story." "I don't have any more good stories." He frowned. "Oh, come on, you've got to be able to think of something. Sad or happy. Preferably happy. You've got to have one." "Well, how about this? The story of how my shitty excuse for a life was salvaged; the story of how, at a very trying time, I was given a reason to continue living." "Sounds good to me." She turned so she was lying on her side facing him. He was still on his back, gazing up at the stars. The only light by which she could see his face was that of the moon. "I was a miserable wreck for most of my life. I did some of the most goddamn stupid things. I don't know if I was trying to kill myself, or ruin my life as punishment to myself... or my father." He turned towards her. "You've read _Death of a Salesman_, right?" She nodded. "I swear to God I felt like Biff Loman, trying to destroy every positive aspect of my life to spite someone or something else. Maybe I didn't even realize it. But I was. Some of the things I did to myself surprise me now. Phoebe was one of those. I tried to kill myself once. Believe it or not, gung-ho, never blinks at anything me tried to end my own life." He looked away from her and shook his head. "I was stupid. I came to the FBI... I don't know what I was looking for. God only knows what I wanted. I don't even remember how I found the X-Files division, but it helped a little. I decided that maybe I could try to find my sister, which I had more or less been doing in my roundabout and self-destructive way my whole life, and then maybe there would be a reason to live." He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows slightly. "That's when I heard I was getting a new partner. I was absolutely devastated. As if my life could get any worse, I was going to be assigned to someone who was going to assist them in closing my division, the only source of air I had. And it wasn't much at that. And I had heard so much about you. OThis one does it by the book, Mulder.' OWon't be able to pull any of your cute tricks with her around.' OThis'll put an end to those investigations of yours once and for all.' I must admit, I was a little shocked when you walked in for the first time. I don't know what I had pictured, but it wasn't you." He grinned at her for a moment, but then his face turned serious. "Do you remember when I told you for the first time about my sister? That night?" She smiled and nodded. "The same night I stripped in front of you. Bared all for the sake of three mosquito bites." He laughed and then regained his composure. "After that, I knew it would work. I had never been able to be that open with anyone in my life. And my instincts were right." She looked deep into her eyes. "You've saved my life, you know." She looked away from him and shook her head. "Mulder..." "You have. I want you to know that. Without you... I don't even want to think about it. You're everything to me. I need you to know that." She looked at him, her eyes misty. "I do." Their eyes locked, and for a moment, it was like time stood still. When he regained himself, he bent his head closer to hers and kissed her, his lips brushing lightly against hers. She drew back, shocked, until she saw the emotion burning in his eyes. "Mulder..." "Dana, I needed you to know that. All of that. Exactly how I felt. And now you know. And if you think less of me for it, I'm sorry. But that's just something I couldn't hide away inside me any longer." "No... Mulder, no.... How could you think that I could ever think less of you?" She bent towards him and attempted to catch his lips with her own, but he stopped her. "I also don't want you to feel like you have some sort of obligation to me in doing this. You don't." She shook her head and smiled. "I know I don't. Don't you think I've felt this just as long as you have?" He smiled mischievously. "It's hard to know. You're most enigmatic, Doctor Scully." She shook her head and was leaning forward to kiss him when she suddenly drew back. "Mulder, listen." He cocked his head then looked back at her. "I don't hear anything, Scully." She nodded. "Exactly. There's nothing. Listen again." He did as she requested, and this time his eyes went wide. "Oh my God..." She was right. There was nothing except an utter, dead silence. A sudden chill in the air accompanied the lack of sound. It lasted several minutes, and Scully was the first to hear the noise. The air temperature increased as it grew louder, although it was still only audible enough to be even picked up by the most sensitive of ears. It began as a distant rumble, but was quickly growing in size and magnitude. There was a tightness in the air, as if the noise was closing in around them, trying to suffocate them. But she was locked in place. "What the hell is that Mulder?" "I don't know, but we're getting the hell out of here!" he yelled as he jumped to his feet, grabbed her, and dragged her after him. After a few paces, she recovered movement in her legs and began to run with him, but he still kept a tight hold on her hand. It was following them, hunting them, readying for the kill. They ran for what seemed like an eternity, and the it followed them, threatening to devour them if they even slowed their pace. Scully was reminded of a movie she had watched long ago with her nephew. it was called _The Neverending Story_. They were being pursued by the nothingness, but she could honestly not tell if the nothingness was real or a figment of their own two imaginations. The noise got progressively louder until it was deafening, and finally, after they had been running for what seemed hours, her grasp of Mulder's hand slipped She felt herself being pulled back into the jaws of this nothingness, vaguely aware of his anguished cry at losing her hand. Suddenly, she fell to the ground, sliding over the rough earth. Scully heard a few pebbles dropping from what seemed a long way below them and stuck her head out to see the source of the noise. There was a narrow ravine in front of her, not terribly deep. One side of the ravine jutted out, and she detected a crevice in the side that might serve to protect her, in her weakened state, from the elements. She pulled herself toward the ditch and slid down it slowly, the short move exhausting her. Climbing into the crevice, she was immediately warmed, so she collapsed onto her side, her thoughts on Mulder. Her exhaustion soon overcame her, however, and she was overcome by darkness. *** *** *** Mulder fought to keep hold as he felt Scully's hand being torn from his. It was useless, however, and as soon as he lost her hand, he dove to the ground under some nearby brush, refusing to leave her behind. He tried to stand, but he felt frozen to the ground. Instead, he cried her name aloud. "SCULLY!!!!!!!!!!" He managed to keep himself conscious for several minutes before he blacked out. *** *** *** She was next wakened by an urgent hand on her shoulder and a voice, a whisper. "Can you hear me?" Definitely a feminine voice. Dana struggled to nod her head. "Okay, I've got to get you out of here *fast*. Are you up for a little journey?" Scully swallowed hard and then spoke weakly, keeping her eyes closed, although opening them wouldn't have helped the situation, as it was still pitch black. "Yes." She felt herself being lifted gently out of the narrow crevice and then encircled by a pair of strong arms; she was lifted off the ground and felt herself being moved. She gathered up all of her strength to speak again, then. "Mulder... where's... Mulder?" The woman's tone took on a concerned edge. "Is that a friend? I didn't find anyone else other than you. I'm sure he's fine, though." Dana tried to nod again, but it was too much for her, and she passed out again. *** *** *** When Mulder woke up, it was light out. Springer was shaking him almost violently to wake him up. Mulder blinked against the light and then looked up at Springer. "Have you gotten Scully yet?" Springer's face took on a worried expression. "She's not here. I've looked everywhere. I was hoping you would know where she was. I barely found you as it is. You were hidden under a lot of brush." He looked around anxiously, almost ignoring Mulder. "When was the last time you saw her?" Mulder sat up, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "We were running... from... I'm not sure what. A noise... Ithaqua." Springer's brow furrowed. "Mulder, that's a fairy tale. It was probably a bear or something. But Dana could be seriously hurt, wherever she is. I *have* to find her." Mulder nodded immediately and attempted to stand, only to have Springer push him back down. "But the only place *you're* going is back into town. From the bruises on you chest, it looks like you have a few broken ribs, and your ankle didn't look good, either. Try to move it." Mulder nodded and attempted it; he could, but his wince told Springer what he needed to know. "It's a bad sprain. And be honest with yourself, Mulder. You've been out in sub-zero temperatures all night. Even with that jacket, you're going to have some frostbite. You *have* to go back. I'm going to drive you, then come back and look for Dana." Mulder shook his head adamantly, then spoke, noticing the dry, rough sound of his voice. "No. I won't go back until we find her." Springer looked down at him sadly. "I'd like to let you help, Mulder. God knows I'd do anything to find Dana, and I could use all the manpower I can get, but we both know she'd kill me if she found out I'd let you hurt yourself worse looking for her." He attempted a smile. "Mulder, think about this logically. There's no way you can force me to let you do this. I'd let you fight me about it if you could, but Mulder, look at yourself. You're coming back to town with me." Mulder sighed and nodded again, not speaking out of sympathy for his poor voice. He let Springer help him up, and they quickly made their way to Springer's jeep and back into town. *** *** *** "What do you mean, you can't find her?" Mulder screamed at Springer. "Taylor, I could care less what you say! I'm coming with you --" "Mulder, I combed those woods. There's nothing else I can do until morning. And you're not helping Day by getting yourself in worse shape." Springer looked down at his watch. It was already nine, and he was worried out of his mind. "I can't believe you're doing nothing else to find her!" Mulder screamed. "Some friend you are! She could freeze out there tonight!" Springer looked sad. "Mulder, there is *nothing* else I can do tonight! Do you hear me? *Nothing.*" Mulder looked sadly down at the bandages around his ankle, then looked up at Springer, pure hatred shining in his eyes. "You *bastard,*" he began, amazingly calm to his own ears. "If she dies because you left her out there, I will kill you. Don't think I'm lying to you. And don't think for a second that the affection she holds for you would ever stop me." He stopped and glared, smiling wryly to himself at the other man's shocked expression. Then he sighed wearily. "Now get out." When Springer didn't move, Mulder felt it necessary to reemphasize himself. He shouted, the fury returning to his voice, "I *SAID,* get the *hell OUT*!!!!!" Springer nodded his head, getting over his surprise, understanding the pain the man sitting before him was experiencing. Quietly, he opened the door behind him and slipped out. Mulder shook his head sadly and the tears began. *** *** *** Springer walked into his room slowly. Sitting down on his bed, he took the old copy of Moby Dick out from his bag and thumbed the front cover. He smiled at the inscription. "To my darling Springer Spaniel. Love always, Starbuck." Under it was signed her name, with her then-traditional smiley face beside it. He smiled, but it was a smile that lacked substance. "Dana, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." *** *** *** When she woke up, she was in a twin bed in what appeared, from the contents, to be a little girl's room. The walls were painted with pink rocking horses. The bedspread, which appeared handmade, was covered with the same design. All of the toys also appeared handmade. Scully reached to the side of the bed and ran her finger along a small, wooden, handcarved carousel. She smiled to herself, suddenly reminded of her own childhood. She pictured herself at age four or five, sitting beside Springer, listening to her father read Moby Dick to the two of them. Her father had loved Springer like one of his own. Springer called him Ahab, just as she did. Ahab and Springer used to have long conversations about anything and everything while Dana was away for various reasons. Springer had often come to her house knowing she was away when he knew the navy man was docked at home, just for a chance to discuss matters with Ahab. Dana had never intruded on their private times, and had always loved that her father held so much affection for Springer. She was trying to remember where she was when a woman entered the room. She started, but then it came back to her. The woods, the stories, the noise.... The woman had long, dark hair, and stood at at least five foot nine. She had dark skin, clearly representing Native American heritage. Her eyes were dark and knowledgeable. She smiled brightly; the action lit up her face, bringing forth an inner beauty that rivaled even her outward appearance. "You're awake." Scully nodded without speaking and smiled slightly, pulling herself into a sitting position. The woman smiled even more brightly and walked over to sit on the bed beside Scully. "I'm Randi Lynne. I found you about a day ago. You've been in and out of consciousness since then." She gazed intently at Scully for a few seconds before continuing. "You look good now, though. Not too many people survive the Walker. You're very lucky." Scully smiled, but her face quickly clouded over. "Did you find anyone else? A man?" Randi shook her head apologetically. "No. I searched for him, because you mentioned him quite a few time between your lapses into unconsciousness, but I found noone. Yesterday, when I went, though, there were tire-tracks near where I found you. Maybe someone else found him. I'm sure he is safe." Scully nodded, accepting Randi's logic. "May I use your phone?" Randi smiled and shook her head. "Don't have one. There aren't any phone lines way out here." She saw Scully's question on her face and answered it before it could be asked. "Your cellular is still in a pocket of your overcoat, but it won't work out here any more than a regular phone would. Cellular phones barely work in town, after all." She stood up, then, and walked towards the door. "I made you some soup, Dana. You must be famished." Scully smiled happily, then looked at her oddly. "How did you know my name?" Then she shook her head, feeling dumb. "Oh, you must have found my ID..." Randi shook her head. "ID? No, I just knew. Something important is going to happen, Dana. I can feel it. I felt it the moment I first saw you out in the snow. Something very important." Then she was gone. Scully didn't have time to think, though, before a little girl of four or five bounded into the room and jumped onto the bed. She had long, dark hair and skin just a shade lighter than her mother's. Her eyes sparkled with the same deep knowledge. Scully smiled broadly, immediately liking the little girl. "Hello, Dana!!!!!" The girl hugged Scully's neck tightly. "Hi," Scully replied when she had regained her breath from the monstrous bear-hug. "What's your name?" "Carol," the girl replied, beaming. "Well, hello, Carol. And how are you?" "Ooh, I'm good! But Mommy says something big is going to happen, Dana. It's about you, me, and Mommy. She says she knew when she saw you. And I believe her, 'cause Mommy knows *everything*!" She gestured with her hands to show the expanse of knowledge her mommy possessed. Scully smiled. "But Dana..." Scully's smile faded at the girl's tone. "What, Carol?" "Don't tell Mommy I said this, but I think it's something bad. Really bad. But I think it'll be bad *and* good." Scully looked at the little girl, puzzled. "How do you know that, Carol?" Carol brightened again. "Because Mommy knows *everything!*" She repeated the gesture. "And she says I inherited it from her," she finished matter-of-factly. Suddenly, Randi entered carrying a tray, upon which was a bowl brimming with hot soup and a mug of what smelled like herbal tea. Scully smiled happily. *** *** *** Springer trudged into the bed-and-breakfast unhappily, his eyes brimming with tears. Another day and still no Dana Scully. He walked sadly up to Mulder's room and opened the door, looking at the floor. When he looked up, he realised Mulder hadn't even noticed him. The man was concentrating intently on his phone conversation, nodding every now and then. In front of him sat a laptop, and files were strewn all around him. When Mulder looked up and saw him, his face turned as close to white as Springer had ever seen a man's face turn. He whispered urgently into the phone, "Could you hold on a second?" Then looked up at Springer, emotion clouding his face. "No sign of her?" His voice was thick with sorrow. Springer shook his head slowly. "I looked everywhere." He paused. "I did find footsteps that weren't ours." Mulder's face brightened considerably. "But they stopped where the snow stopped in one place and I couldn't pick them up again." Mulder's face fell, and he looked back at the laptop. Speaking into the phone, he said softly, "I need to go." Then, he looked up at Springer. "What do you say we go over to that bar across the street?" "Mulder, your ankle..." "My ankle can go to hell." Springer smiled sadly and nodded. "Sure. Let's go." Mulder pulled himself off the bed, winced only slightly at the pain in his ankle, and they made their way across the street. *** *** *** "How long did you say you've known her?" Mulder questioned, taking another swig of his half-empty mug of beer. "Since... pre-school. Can you believe that? I've known Dana since almost before she could talk. Can you imagine her not talking now?" "Or spouting off some scientific explanation to prove me wrong..." Mulder grinned, but then his face fell. "Or telling me she's fine when nothing is farther from the truth... or... or..." "Once, when we were kids, I convinced her to sneak out of her house for a weekend and take a road trip with me." He grinned. "We convinced Missy to tell her mom that she was going to visit Billy in Annapolis, and we called Bill and convinced him to tell the same story. And we took a ferry to Elizabeth Island..." "Elizabeth Island... just inland of Martha's Vineyard?" Springer nodded. "Yea. Actually, we went out to Martha's Vineyard too. When we were there, the funniest thing happened..." He laughed softly to himself. "We went to this bar... and there was this guy there... name of... I don't know.... But we had this game, where we would sit in any public place and Day would point out girls she thought I'd look good with. She claimed I didn't date enough or something..." He laughed again softly. "So I pointed out this guy, and she actually got up and talked to him. They got in this deep conversation about something or other... him going to college at Oxford or something. She nearly ditched me for the guy, too." He nodded knowingly. "She was a wee bit drunk," he murmured, using his index finger and thumb the show the expanse of his friend's drunkenness. Mulder simply stared at him, a bit taken aback, until Springer, well started on his second mug of beer, noticed him. "What, Mulder? You look like you saw a ghost." Mulder shook his head quickly. "No, no... I just met someone under similar circumstances once." Springer nodded, accepting Mulder's explanation. Mulder looked down at his watch and back up at Springer. "Look, we'd better get going if we're going to get up early enough to start looking for her again tomorrow." Springer nodded again. "You know... it's funny how sober I feel... considering my tolerance for beer is next to zilch..." He hiccupped happily and stood up, throwing money for the beers on the table and motioning for the waitress. Mulder smiled up at him sadly. "At least you've found away to lessen the pain, my friend..." he whispered in a voice only audible to himself. "I wish myself the same luck." *** *** *** Scully sat beside Randi on the sofa in Randi's living room, Carol nestled on her lap, asleep. Scully stroked the little girl's hair gently, and Randi nodded at them as she watched. "She's taken an incredible liking to you. I've never seen her like this." Scully grinned. "She's wonderful. Beautiful *and* smart. She's going to be quite a package when she grows up. She's so much like my sister was at that age." Randi nodded, knowing somehow not to push the subject. "So what happened then?" Scully questioned, urging Randi to continue with her story. "Oh." Randi smiled. "Cary and I got married despite my father's protests. He gave me a final ultimatum. He said that if Cary and I married, I would never be welcome in our tribe again. And he said that I would anger Ithaqua by doing so. Obviously, I didn't listen." She looked at Dana meaningfully. "But I'm glad I didn't listen. I loved Cary more than I could ever love anyone else. And I have Carol because of him. I'm sorry for the people who have died, but..." "Randi, none of that was your fault. How could it be?" Randi smiled; Scully's dubiety was one of her best traits, the woman had decided. "But it is. And Cary is dead because we married." "What... happened to him?" "The Walker killed him. Out of anger at our marriage." "So you really think this 'Ithaqua' is causing these deaths?" Randi smiled. "You're very skeptical. But your partner isn't, is he? He's very open to these possibilities, isn't he?" Scully looked up at her from Carol, smiling. "Yes." "But from what you say, you two work amazingly well together. Your relationship is very strong." Scully's face fell. Quickly, Randi added, "Dana, he is fine. Trust me. I know things. I know this. I *feel* this. He is very worried about you, but he is fine." Scully nodded, reassured by Randi's testimony. "I'm sure he is." "Dana, this is going to sound strange..." Randi looked up at Scully, searching her eyes. Finally, she continued. "If something were to happen to me... very soon..." She stopped, then began anew. "Dana, I feel a connection with you." Dana nodded, agreeing. "If something happens, and I feel that something will, and soon, would you take care of my daughter for me?" Scully could only stare at her, dumbfounded. "Randi, don't talk like that! *Nothing* is going to happen! Please, don't..." Randi shook her head sadly. "I hope not. But Dana, promise me... please." Scully remained quiet several moments before nodded her head slowly. "Of course. Of course I will." She stroked Carol's hair protectively, almost unconscious of the action. "Of course I will." Randi smiled. "So, Dana, tell me more about Mulder..." *** *** *** The scream echoed through the woods, resounding throughout Scully's room. She sat bolt upright in Carol's bed and tore into the living room, meeting Randi head-on. "What was that?" "The Wendigo has another victim. Bring Carol. We've got to go help him." Scully changed quickly, then shouldered the sleeping girl and ran after Randi into the night. They ran for what seemed like hours, Randi's acute senses guiding their way. Finally, Randi stopped short. She bent down next to a young, Native American man and searched for a heartbeat. She shook her head sadly. "It's too late. He's dead." Suddenly, a dead quiet overcame the woods. Scully recognized it all too well. "Randi, we *have* to get out of here! It's coming back!" Randi looked around frantically. "Dana, I'm responsible for the Walker's anger. If I am dead, it will leave my people alone." "No! NO!!! Randi, you *have* to come!" Tears began to silently stream down her face. "Randi, *please*!!!!!" "Dana, I *can't*. Please take care of my little girl." "RANDI! Please!" She began to sob silently, unwillingly to let her friend die. Randi turned to look at her. "Dana, go! There isn't much time! If you don't hurry, it will kill you and Carol too. Please, Dana. Don't let it get my baby." Scully nodded, not wanting to, but understanding Randi's need to protect her people and be with her husband. Her tears were coming freely now. "Goodbye, Randi. And thank you." Randi nodded. "Thank *you*. Our connection is strong, Dana, and it can't be broken. I know you will take care of Carol. And Dana..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Everyone dies. The only question is when. Death is not something to fear. Do not fear death, Dana. Never fear death. The more you fear it, the more it seeks you out." Scully nodded. "It won't seek you out for some time, Dana. Trust me." Then, to Carol, Randi whispered, "Goodbye, my angel." She turned to Dana. "Go *NOW*!!!!" She took off, running faster than she thought possible. Carol's weight in her arms grew unbearable, but she continued to run. Carol only woke up at one point, to whisper into Dana's ear a simple message: "She's with Daddy now." *** *** *** After running for what seemed to be hours, Dana collapsed on a bed of snow under a heavy canopy of trees. She lay, breathing fast and hard, for several minutes, stroking Carol's silky, black hair. "We're gonna be okay, Carol. We're gonna be okay." Carol looked up at her fondly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with two little fists. "I know we are, Dana. Mommy says so." Scully looked down at the little girl, saddened. "Carol... your mom's not here anymore." Carol shook her head adamantly. "No. She's with Daddy. But she still speaks to me. And to you, too. Listen." Dana paused a moment and did as the girl said, ridiculing herself for the foolish exercise but at the same time needing to hear Randi's guiding voice. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of peace, and she knew the source. "Yes, Carol. She does." *** *** *** Mulder awoke the next morning before light had broken to a pounding at his door. He heaved himself up off the bed and went to the door, opening it. The small form of his partner stood for a moment, shaking, outside, then collapsed to her knees, convulsing in sobs. In her arms was a small child, no more than five. He collapsed to her side and held her tightly as she buried her head in his chest, her tears hot against his bare skin. "Dana, Dana, Dana..." he whispered joyously. "I was so worried. Tell me you're okay. Please tell me you're okay..." She nodded faintly against his chest, needing to be close to him like she needed to breathe. Finally, she regained herself, just as the child opened its eyes. Scully looked up at Mulder, sorrow shining in her eyes. The little girl, however, looked up at him and smiled. "Fox." She climbed out of Dana's arms and into his, stretching her neck up so she could kiss him softly on the cheek. "Oh, Mulder... Mulder... she's dead..." Mulder looked at her, perplexed. He pulled her to him tightly, trying to avoid crushing the little girl in between them. Then her words struck him. "Who's dead?" "Oh, Mulder.... But can I tell you tomorrow? I'm so tired... so tired..." He nodded and lifted her gently onto the bed, letting her remove her ruined tennis-shoes and jeans. Then she pulled the little girl, dressed in pajamas, close to her and feel asleep. Mulder smiled happily and lay down beside the pair, not understanding exactly what had happened but overjoyed nonetheless. She would tell him tomorrow, he supposed. He was asleep in no time. *** *** *** A knock on the door woke him less than three hours later. He moved his arm from where it was draped over the little girl and around Scully's small form. Groggily, he stood, and, ignoring the slight pain in his ankle, made his way to the door. He opened it, and Springer walked in. "Mulder, I want to get out extra early today. We've got to--" Mulder cut him off. "Don't you have a hangover?" Springer nodded urgently, then clutched his head as the pain shot through it. "Um, yea. My head hurts like hell and I feel like I could go into dry heaves at any second, since I already threw up the rest of the contents of my stomach. But that's *not* important right now --" "Springer?" Her voice came from his bed; she sounded tired and unsure of herself. Springer's eyes widened until they were almost circles. "Dana!" he cried happily, running over to her to enclose her in a bear hug. "God, you have *no* idea how much you scared us! Where have you been?" She smiled and bowed her head so her gaze was focused on Carol. "With a friend." She glanced up at both Mulder and Springer. "We've got to get a team into those woods. There's a body I'd... like us to find." Mulder nodded. "First of all, you need to get a few more hours of sleep. You must be exhausted. Then, when you wake up, we'll all go to brunch, and after that we'll get a search team out. Okay?" She nodded, smiling, and her head fell down onto the pillow again, arm going around the little girl in a manner that struck Mulder as incredibly maternal. He glanced up at Springer then. "And you go back to sleep, too. Give that hangover some time." Springer nodded gratefully. "Mulder, where... where did you find her?" Mulder shook his head. "I didn't. A few hours ago, she showed up at my door with her friend there." He pointed to Carol. "I have no idea who the little girl is or where Scully's been. All she said was that someone was dead and she would tell me the rest in the morning." Springer seemed to think about that for a few minutes, then smiled and walked back towards his room. Mulder closed the door behind him, walked towards the bed, and lay down beside Scully and the mysterious little girl once again. *** *** *** Scully stood in a small clearing in the woods, gazing out through the expanse of trees. She turned suddenly at a noise behind her and found herself looking into Mulder's hazel eyes. Her face fell. "You haven't found her, have you?" He shook his head. "No. And we've combed the woods. I don't think we're going to." He paused. "We did find one body. A Native American man, around 25." She nodded. "That's the man she tried to save." He looked up at her. "I'm sorry." She nodded. "Where's Carol?" "With Springer. He's grown rather attached to her." He paused. "So, you're keeping her?" She looked up, surprised. "Mulder, she's not some toy that you can throw around --" He cut her off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. That's not what I mean." She nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just a little worked up. Yes, I'm keeping her. I've always dreamed of having a little girl.... And this is for Randi.... I promised her. There was something about her I can't explain." She looked up at him, pleading with him to understand. "I *need* Carol, Mulder." He nodded. "I know you do, Dana. I know you do." They turned together and walked towards the town. *** *** *** The airport in Chicago was busy, but Springer had promised to see them to there connecting flight. They were standing near the boarding ramp when the flight was called. Scully looked up at Springer fondly. "Goodbye, Springer Spaniel." She laughed then and added, "My dear, dear Springer Spaniel." His eyes held hers as he held out his arms, requesting a hug. "Bye, Dana-bug." She walked into his arms, and he held her tightly. "Starbuck." She smiled and extracted herself from his arms. "Tell Lauren I said hi." She grinned wickedly. "And before you ever call me 'Dana-bug' again, remember my expertise with handling kitchen knives. Watch you back, Springer." She grinned. "Yes, ma'am." He smiled. "Call sometime, Dana. Tell me how this little one's doing." He bent over and ruffled Carol's hair and was taken by surprise when she launched herself into his arms. Scully laughed. Carol was clutching Springer's neck with a death-grip. "C'mon, Carol. If we don't hurry, that plane's gonna leave without us." Carol looked over at Dana and smiled, reaching over to wrap her arms around Scully's neck in order to transfer herself. Mulder looked at Springer a few seconds before reaching his hand out. "It was good to meet you, Taylor. I hope I have the chance to work with you again." Springer nodded and reached out to grasp Mulder's extended hand and shaking it firmly. He nodded towards Dana. "Treat her good, Mulder." He grinned. "I beat up guys who don't." Scully elbowed him almost violently before turning and heading through the ramp. Right before the curve, she looked back and waved at him again, waiting for his return wave before turning back and disappearing with Carol from sight. Mulder smiled once back at Springer before running down the ramp after Scully. Springer sighed to himself and turned, walking through the airport alone. *** *** *** Mulder watched as Scully whispered into Carol's ear. At first the girl looked perplexed, then she broke into laughter at the same time Scully smiled. He watched as Carol turned over, still smiling, lay her head on Scully's shoulder, and closed her eyes. Scully smiled, then reached between herself and Mulder and extracted the Stephen King novel she was working on. After about ten minutes, Mulder decided it was time to speak. "Dana, we need to talk." She looked up at him, and he was astonished at the emotions he saw in her eyes: fear, but through that, love; guilt, but through that, trust. She smiled, and he returned it. "I know we do, Mulder. But not now, okay? Give me a few days." He nodded his consent. For the time being, that was going to have to suffice. He closed his eyes and attempted to go to sleep, his hopes abiding in the promise which lay in her voice. In a few days, she would be ready to talk. And he would be ready to listen. *** *** *** Tu perveneras finem. Do gratulationi et gratiis tibi. Explicit liber regis quondam regisque futuri. The beginning... Never mind Kudos to those of you who take Latin and know that that says, "You have arrived at the end. I give congratulations and thanks to you." Even more kudos if you know what book the quote following it is from. A prize to all contenders... ;) So, comments on the story idea? Comments on my style? Comments on my frequent use of the word "smile" (it appears 67 times in this story! LOL) Comments on my knowledge of Latine? Just want to prove your technological advancement by demonstrating your ability to use e-mail? It all goes to Hamster027@aol.com, who *likes* getting mail