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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

==========

Mists
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


X-file, rated PG, spoiler for "Emily," no keywords, no content 
warnings

Summary: It lives in the mists.

Author's notes: Yes, I know it's strange. Yes, I know it's
undefined. Yes, I know it could be classified as incomplete.
No, I don't plan to explain it. Call it a tone poem and leave
it at that.

Thanks: To my sweet Brandon, for the beta read, and for not
questioning.

==========

Mists
by shannono


The mists flowed in the air around the tiny body as it moved
through the woods, its steps slow but sure, as if guided by
an unseen hand. Bare feet left their marks in the soft forest
floor, but only temporarily, as the springy earth gradually 
smoothed away any sign of disturbance.

The small figure never swerved from its course, continuing
unerringly toward its destination.

In the distance, a voice could be heard, calling out a name
with increasing urgency. But the body never stopped or 
slowed, never paused or turned.

And, finally, it disappeared into the mists.

==========

"Okay, Mulder, I'll bite. What makes *this* disappearance 
different from the hundreds of others the FBI investigates
every year?"

"You mean other than the fact that this is the third such
disappearance in the same county in the past three days?"

"Serial abductions are nothing new, Mulder. Reprehensible, 
yes, but not unique."

"Well, then, how about the fact that all three sets of parents
involved had used the same fertility clinic to get pregnant?"

"So the suspect list starts with the clinic employees. Still
nothing out of the ordinary."

"How about the fact that the three kids in question look
enough alike to have been triplets?"

"..."

"Our flight's at noon, Scully."

==========

The mists never quite seemed to dissipate in the 
preternaturally quiet forest. A hot spring in a cool climate,
said the experts. An enchantment, said the locals.

Science versus magic.

The man and the woman walked through the woods, shoulders just
brushing, their bodies dappled with light streaming through the
trees. Clouds of white vapor gathered in front of their faces 
with every breath, mixing with the light fog in the air.

They paused every so often, first one and then the other,
pointing out various things, murmuring in low voices. They
continued on through the forest, the mists thickening around
them, dancing along their skin, almost alive in the chilly air.

And he watched them.

========== 

"Are you *sure* that wasn't poison ivy, Mulder?"

"Indian Guide's honor, Scully. Besides, you're the doctor in
this partnership. Couldn't you tell?"

"Just testing you, Mulder. I had my one-and-only close
encounter with poison ivy when I was nine, and I've never
forgotten what it looks like."

"Oooo, Scully, and just *where* did you get poison ivy?"

"On a campi -- shut up, Mulder."

"Sorry, Scully, couldn't resist that one ... what's that?"

"Looks like a piece of cloth or something. Here, let me ..."

"Chantilly lace?"

"More like satin ribbon, Mulder. A pink bow. Does that fit
the description of any of the nightgowns?"

"The second one. Marie. Her mother said her pajamas had a
bunch of little pink bows across the front."

"Mmmmm. So we know she made it this far."

"Or someone brought her this far."

"Yeah."

==========

The forest, like the jungle, did not give up its victims
willingly. The woman tripped over an exposed root on the
way out, crying out as her ankle twisted under her. Even
her concession to wearing hiking boots for their trip into
the woods hadn't helped her.

The man caught her, questioned and then soothed her with 
his voice, and, his arm around her waist, helped her back
to their car.

And still he watched.

And waited.

==========

"Are you sure you're okay, Scully?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Mulder. It's only a slight sprain. The ice is
helping and swelling is already going down. I'll have to wrap
it and take it easy for a day or two, but that's it."

"Oh, darn. And here I was planning a hike up the mountain for
tomorrow afternoon."

"Funny, Mulder. Did you call the sheriff?"

"Yeah, while you were changing clothes. He said he's sending
a 'posse' out to cover the woods in the area near where we
found the bow. Maybe something else will turn up."

"I hope so ..."

"Scully?"

"*Mul*-der?"

"Are you all right?"

"Mulder, I told you three times already ..."

"I'm not talking about your ankle, Scully. I'm talking about
the case."

"It's a case, Mulder. Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"It's just ... those girls, Scully. They ... they look like ..."

"I know, Mulder. I saw the pictures. Mulder, we knew this could
happen. You told me -- eventually -- what you saw in that nursing
home. We knew there could be more out there like her."

"I know, Scully, but thinking it could happen is one thing. 
Facing it head-on is something else entirely."

"I'm fine, Mulder. No, really, don't look at me like that. I
*am*."

"Okay, Scully."

==========

The mists called to a new playmate, bringing her from her warm,
safe bed and into the chill of the forest. She followed the path
that had been set for her, and others before her, continuing on
the same unerring walk until she, too, faded into the fog.

And he watched on.

==========

"Scully?"

"Mulder? What're you doing?"

"Waking you up. There's been ... another girl is missing."

"Oh, God ..."

"Half-hour. I'll bring the coffee."

==========

He knew they'd be back. He wanted them back, wanted to see 
them unravel the mystery, uncover the myths and the truths.

He knew the truth. And he knew they could find it.

Silently, he blended back into the woods.

==========

"Footprints?"

"They're faint, but they're here. They cut right through here,
headed east."

"Mulder?"

"C'mon, Scully."

"Mulder, I think we should wait for the sheriff ..."

"The footprints are fading already, Scully. The ground is peat,
and it'll spring back into place if we wait any longer."

"All right, Mulder ..."

==========

Perfect.

==========

"Mulder?"

"Uh ... yeah?"

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

"In the woods, Scully."

"Mulder ..."

"No, Scully, I don't. Happy now?"

"Not particularly ... ow!"

"Scully?"

"Just stumbled on another root, Mulder. I'm fine."

"Here, let me help ..."

"I'm *fine*, Mulder. No worse off than I was when we got out
here, okay?"

"But you're hurting ..."

"I took some Advil before we left. Now come on."

==========

He followed their movements from as close as he dared, watching
as they neared the spot where he wanted them. Needed them. He 
had been careful, and he wouldn't be thwarted again. No one
else had been able to follow him, but they had.

The forest was his friend, the mists hiding a multitude of 
preparations, the peat offering up the perfect raw materials
for his intentions. He could feel the thrill building from 
deep within, the payoff looming just over the next hill.

He faded into the trees again and moved purposefully toward 
their eventual destination.

==========

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear that?"

"What, you saying my name? I answered, didn't I?"

"No, that sound ... there it is again."

"That clicking?"

"Yeah, three times, pause, three more, pause again."

"Shhh ..."

"It's code ..."

"... three short, three long, three short."

"Morse code."

"SOS."

==========

He could hear their feet pounding softly into the peat,
coming swiftly in his direction, and he smiled. They were
the ones. He knew it. He'd known it all along.

And then they burst into the clearing, guns drawn ... and
froze in their tracks.

There, in the center of the soft ground, sat the four little
girls, still in their nightclothes, dirty and disheveled, 
wrapped in what looked like frayed blankets.

The woman moved first, headed straight for the girls, as the
man circled the clearing, scanning the woods for signs of a 
trap. His eyes passed right over the observer, motionless 
under the cover of the mists and the trees. 

Still wary, he turned back to the woman, who was murmuring 
softly to the girls, running her hands along their hair, 
checking them for injury. The "blankets," he realized, were
in fact strips of the peat, torn from the ground to serve 
as warmth for the tiny girls.

His eyes still darting around carefully, he holstered his 
weapon and moved to help her.

===========

"Thanks, Sheriff Adams. ... Scully?"

"Mmm ..."

"You okay?"

"Yeah ... they'll be fine, Mulder."

"They will be, Scully. You're doing the right thing. Their
families are here, everything they've ever known. It may 
not be fair to you, but it's right."

"I know ... We still don't know what happened to them,
Mulder ..."

"Maybe the woods really are enchanted."

"... or who took care of them. If it was the same person."

"Or a person at all."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

==========

And from the mists, he watched as they walked away.

==========END==========