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Other Considerations                                         Part 02 of 02.
by Laura Akers                        Broken into pieces by that Archivist.
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     Scully watched Mulder struggle up the hill carrying two sets of
skis.  "Skiing holiday, Mulder?"  He dumped the skis at her feet. 
     "I thought we might pick up where we left off this morning...the
trail?" 
     "Well, we are almost done here."  She deposited herself on a log
and started unlacing her boots.  "What did you find in the journals? 
Anything?" 
     He dropped down next to her and yanked her hiking boot off. 
"Wallard kept detailed records on the lights we saw last night--including
records of two other disappearances in the past three years.  He felt they
were connected as well." 
     "And I suppose you feel justified by his speculations."  She
grinned down at the top of his head.  He moved over and grabbed the other
boot. 
     "That 'close encounter' last night, Scully?  He had been having
those on a regular basis for several years.  The last one was two nights
before he disappeared."  He yanked again and this time went over backwards
into the snow. 
     Scully chuckled at him, lying there on his back, clutching her
boot.  "There goes your career as a valet." 
     He affected a hurt look.  "The thanks I get for being a
gentleman...."  He took advantage of his position to take his own boots
off.  "Did you turn up anything here?" 
     "It's all the same.  He's been dead for days, best as I can tell
without an autopsy.  he was not injured in any way...cause of death is
probably exposure, like the others.  But there are no signs of how he got
here.  According to Chandler, he always wore a class ring and a set of dog
tags...both were gone."  She stood up and offered him a hand. 
     "Is it possible that something or someone found the body before we
did?" He took her hand and hoisted himself up off the snow.  "Took the dog
tags and the ring and failed to report finding the body?" 
     "If someone did, they left no trace.  Of course it did snow several
nights ago.  That's why we found the body covered.  But we did not find
any suspicious fibers or other evidence at the scene."  She snapped her
boots into the skis.  "However, we did find some evidence of our visitor
last night--a scrap of leather...hide, actually...in one of the footprints
about fifty feet that way.  Whoever it was was definitely wearing some
kind of moccasins.  But I'd have to say homemade.  Ready?" 
     Mulder wobbled a little on the skis, trying to cover the fact that
this was definitely not a preferred mode of transportation.  "Ready," he
said, grabbing the poles and nearly falling over backward again. 
     Scully turned her back quickly to hide her laughing.  "Come on,
then." 
     It took him a while, but soon he was gliding not quite comfortably
along next to her.  Scully had evidently spent some time on skis.  Her
legs and arms moved beautifully in synchronicity.  She had a grace that he
had never noticed before.  He grinned to himself at the thought of Scully
as a snow bunny.  His amusement almost cost him another fall and reminded
him to keep his mind on the skiing.  Scully was being damned distracting
though. 
     The trail appeared to go on and on.  Suddenly, it forked.  The
deeper trail broke off and headed up the mountain while the lighter
running trail continued across the mountain.  They stopped, and Mulder
used the break to try to catch his breath.  Scully pulled her backpack off
and rummaged in it for a map.  She sat down on a fallen tree at the side
of the trail and consulted the map. 
     "Which way, Admiral Byrd?" 
     "Well, the area up there," she said pointing to the trail that
disappeared over a ridge further up the mountain, "appears to be largely
unexplored.  And that way leads into a meadow."  She stopped and looked at
him.  "I think we ought to follow the lower trail...I think....that it
might..." 
     "It might what?" 
     She shrugged.  "I just have a feeling..." she dropped her eyes, a
little embarrassed. 
     The High Priestess card flashed before his eyes.  "A feeling?" he
teased her.  "And I suppose we should just follow your *feelings*, huh? 
How terribly unscientific, *Doctor* Scully." 
     She grinned at him.  "Since when has logic or science been high on
your list of reasons for doing anything?"  She folded the map back up, put
it in the backpack and stood up.  "It is my considered, unscientific
opinion we should go this way."  Without looking back, she picked up her
stride and was off. 
     "I love a dominant woman," Mulder quipped, and after an unsteady
start he caught up to Scully. 
     It was a struggle to get to the top of the little rise, but the
view alone was worth it.  Below them the meadow opened up, a sheet of
white surrounded by a tall fence of closely gathered pine trees.  The
afternoon sun beat down on the snow, giving everything a sparkling
quality.  All of this was framed by the blue sky above, giving the whole
scene a picture postcard beauty.  They stood at the top of the hill, a
little stunned by the scene below them. 
     Scully snapped out of it first, running her eyes discerningly over
the landscape.  "Mulder, do you see that?"  She pointed at one of the
edges of the meadow. 
     He squinted at the area she indicated.  The glare of the sun off
the snow made it difficult to see.  "It looks like a second
trail...somebody on skis." 
     "And look there."  She pointed ahead on the trail they had followed
into the meadow.  It became deeper as it moved into the meadow;  whoever
it was had slowed to a walk.  But more importantly, the original trail
moved to parallel the tracks left by the skis.  "Wasn't Stacy Pollus on
skis when she disappeared?" 
     "There were no sightings of her *on* the skis, but they were
missing from her parents' home." 
     Without a word they both dropped into the meadow, following the
foot trail as it moved toward the other.  "It looks like he stopped here,"
Mulder said, bringing himself to a dangerous stop.  Scully continued to
glide toward the second trail.  She pulled up short and bent down to look
at the ski trail. 
     "How heavy is Stacy?" she asked him. 
     "About 110," he supplied. 
     "I'd have to say that this trail was left by someone weighing
between 100 and 115...it may be hers." 
     "I'd say that was a damned good *feeling* you had back there,
Scully."  He squinted further up the trail.  "This one stops again up
there."  He moved gracelessly toward the spot.  Here the tracks not only
paused but there was trampling all around. 
     Scully moved further up her trail.  Hers paused as well. 
"Assuming that these were made at the same time, I'd have to say that she
was completely unaware that she was being watched.  She never looks off
the trail.  But why would she stop here?"  Mulder watched her move on. 
"And after she stops, she starts moving again, but very slowly." 
     "This one does the same thing...I'd say whoever it was was
following her." 
     They followed each trail as they began to rise out of the meadow. 
As they reached the edge of the meadow, the two trails were less than ten
feet away.  "She still doesn't seem to be aware that there's someone else
here, but how could she not be considering how close they were?" 
     "That's assuming that they were here at the same time." Mulder
reminded her. 
     "But look," she said, turning around and gesturing at the two
trails behind them.  "Everytime she pauses or stops, so does the other
trail..." 
     They started to move on again up the rise at the other side of 
the meadow, Scully leading the way.  She reached the top and stopped 
short, whirling around toward him.  But it was too late.  He moved past 
her, and she shot an arm out to try to pull him back from the edge.  He 
teetered for an instant, his eyes taking in the forty foot drop in below 
them, the skis lying at the bottom, the blue of the lake in the 
distance.  He regained his balance and turned to thank Scully when the 
snow underneath them gave way and they began to fall... 
          
 
 
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     Scully regained consciousness first and her first thought was
confusion.  It was dark.  Not like night-time...something else.  Her eyes
moved toward the only source of light, to the right and above her.  She
moved herself underneath the light to try to identify the source--and
found herself looking up as if from the bottom of the well at a tiny patch
of blue sky far above.  She was underground, far underground. 
     She suppressed her initial panic and looked wildly around for
Mulder.  He lay on his side fifteen feet away.  His leg was at an angle
she didn't like.  She stood up, and her head made sharp contact with a
wooden beam behind and above her.  Her sharp cry of pain echoed around
her, and Mulder began to stir.  Rubbing the back of her head, she
carefully made her way to his side, avoiding the puddle formed by the
snowmelt which dripped down the shaft. 
     Kneeling down, she ran her hand along his leg.  Her hand stopped; 
there it was.  She grimaced and moved herself up to sit next to his
shoulder.  Reaching across him, she pulled him toward her.  As he woke up,
his body convulsed in pain, and Scully saw her initial confusion reflected
in his eyes. 
     "Urrrggh," he growled.  "My leg!"  He started to sit up so he could
reach down toward, and she moved quickly to stop him. 
     "Lay still, Mulder, or you'll be sorry." 
     He collapsed back, this time coming to rest partially in her lap. 
     "It's broken, and I need to get a good look at it to see just how
bad it is." 
     Mulder looked around.  "Where are we?" 
     "I think we're in a mine, judging by the timbers."  She gestured at
the six inch wooden beams lining the walls and ceilings.  "An abandoned
one, I'd guess, considering how old these things look." 
     "How did we get here?" 
     "I don't know.  I don't think we could have survived a fall down
that shaft." 
     "And I'm not really in any condition to have travelled very far." 
He looked up at her with his customary grin. 
     "Let me get a look at that," she said, standing up and dumping him
unceremoniously out of her lap. 
     "Ow!  Is your bedside manner always so bad when you work
underground?" 
     Ignoring him, she crouched beside his leg. "I can't see anything
in this light." 
     Mulder reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. 
"How's this?" 
     She took it.  "Do you always carry a flashlight?" 
     "I like to be prepared for every contingency." 
     "Every contingency?" she asked with a grin, bending down at his
side again. 
     He fished around in his pocket for a moment.  "Wanna check?" he
said, offering her his well-worn wallet. 
     She ignored the wallet.  "I'll trust you on this one, Mulder." 
She turned on the flashlight and ran her hand up his leg again, finding
the break easily.  "Here, hold this for a minute."  She handed him back
the flashlight and grabbed her backpack which sat a few feet away. 
Digging through it, she found her pocketknife and went to work on Mulder's
jeans, splitting them open to uncover his broken leg. 
     She examined his leg in a detached way, suppressing her own
anxiety.  It looked like a clean break of the fibula, and thankfully, one
she felt she could set.  It was not going to be a lot of fun for Mulder,
though. 
     She rummaged through her backpack again, hoping she had remembered
to pack some aspirin.  She found it and offered Mulder some tablets.  "I
think you're going to need these."  She dropped them into his hand and
walked over to where water dripped to the floor.  She stood patiently
collecting the drops in her hands until she had enough for Mulder to take
the aspirin. 
     She knelt down next to him again and held the water up to his
lips.  He popped the aspirin into his mouth and accepted the water from
his partner's hands.  He knew what was coming. 
     She helped him move up to a sitting position and then dragged him
over to rest against one of the walls of the mine.  Then she sat down at
his feet and pulled his leg onto her lap.  She looked up at him, trying to
figure out how best to do this. 
     "It's okay, Scully.  I know this isn't going to be pleasant.  Let's
just get it over with." 
     "Your legs are so long. I can't reach get any leverage because I
can't reach the wall behind you.  What am I going to push against?" 
     He thought for a moment and then pulled her foot toward him and
started to undo the laces of her hiking boots. 
     "What are you doing?" 
     "Trust me."  He removed her boot and pulled her foot to rest up
against his hip.  "Is that enough leverage?" he asked her with grin. 
     She pushed experimentally against his hip.  "I think it'll work,
but you better hold my foot so it doesn't slip."  She offered him her
other foot.  "I should probably use both...I don't want to have to do this
twice." 
     He removed her other boot and placed her left foot on top of her
right one.  "How's that?" 
     "Fine."  She looked up at him.  "Are you ready?"  He nodded. 
"Okay, on three."  She hooked an arm around his leg, putting his foot
under her arm.  "One..."  She wrapped her hands around his calf and gauged
the break.  "Two..."  She yanked hard and twisted his leg just a bit. 
"Three..." she said, under her breath, looking up to see if he was okay. 
     "What happened to three?" he asked, grinning weakly at her and his
joke.  She looked blankly at him.  "What? You don't like Mad Max movies?" 
     "Sorry, I had to do it when your muscles were relaxed...I thought
you might tense up if I waited til three..."  She looked apologetically at
him.  "I think we got it, though."  She ran her fingers gently up his leg. 
"We need to brace it though." 
     She looked around.  There was nothing really suitable.  Well, at
least they could bind it.  That would provide a little bit of support. 
She searched through her bag--nothing.  She looked over at Mulder who had
leaned back against the wall and was gritting his teeth at the pain. 
     "Take off your shirt, Mulder," she told him. 
     Mulder looked up at her.  She was removing her jacket and sweater. 
"Gee, Scully, I'm not sure I'm ready for this..." he said in his teasing
way. 
     "I thought you believed in being prepared," she shot back. 
     "Well, I do.  But there are some things that you can never prepare
yourself for."  He leered at her. 
     Scully's hands faltered at the buttons of her shirt--something in
Mulder's tone had inspired a bit of modesty in her that she thought she'd
left behind long ago.  She briefly considered turning her back to take the
cotton shirt off, but that, she decided, would just give him more to tease
her about.  She decided to bite the bullet and do it.  After giving Mulder
her best withering look, she removed her shirt in her best business-like
manner. 
     He tried not to watch her, busying himself with trying to get out
of his own jacket.  But he could not keep his eyes off her.  When she
shrugged the cotton blouse off, the last of his will crumbled.  His eyes
took in the soft ivory of her skin, the sensuous satin of her bra, the
roundness of her breasts, the curve of her waist.  She pulled her sweater
back on, breaking his reverie.  He dropped his eyes quickly, blushing
hotly at the images that still filled his head. 
     She sat down at his feet and began to pull the shirt into long
strips.  He finally managed to get out of the jacket and took his sweater
and shirt off, handing her the striped shirt.  The pain had weakened him; 
just removing the clothes had exhausted him.  He leaned back against the
wall, closing his eyes and trying to recover a little. 
     Scully looked up at him and chided herself.  Any first-year intern
knew how pain could affect a patient.  Mulder was so weak he couldn't even
redress himself properly.  She scooted herself up toward him and grabbed
the sweater.  "Come on, Mulder.  You'll freeze."  She pulled the sweater
over his head and guided his arms through.  She reached over to grab her
backpack.  "Here, lay down for a little while."  She pulled something
silver out of the backpack and put the backpack under his head.  She
opened the blanket and spread it over him.  It was hardly big enough to
cover him, as lanky as he was, but she did the best she could. 
     "Boy, you really are prepared," he grinned weakly up at her."My
mother was always on the cautious side--never let me go skiing without..." 
He was already drifting off. 
     She put her hiking boots on and retrieved the flashlight to do a
little exploring.  The floor was covered with footprints--she cursed
herself for moving around so carelessly; she had obliterated a lot of
prints.  There appeared to be three or four sets of identifiable prints. 
She recognized the mocassined feet from the snow trail; she had expected
that somehow.  The others appeared to be recent...silver rush miners had
not worn Reeboks. 
     She looked back at Mulder, lying on the ground.  She was torn
between wanting to follow some of the prints and not wishing to leave her
partner alone.  She decided to limit herself--ten minutes and she'd come
right back. 
     She considered the prints again.  Unfortunately there appeared to
be no pattern to them--nothing to give her a hint as to the way out.  She
and Mulder were apparently at some central point in the mine; four tunnels
branched off from here. She decided to follow the prints that led into the
widest tunnel.  She kept the flashlight off for as long as there was the
slightest bit of light to guide her.  After that she used the flashlight,
moving quickly to cover as much ground as possible--who knew how long the
battery would hold out? 
     She'd gone about half a mile when she reached another air shaft
leading to the surface.  Looking up, she gauged the height of the shaft. 
It was definitely longer than the first--she'd been going deeper into the
mountain.  She still had a few more minutes, so she decided to explore one
of the side tunnels.  Two hundred feet in, the tunnel stopped--boards
blocked access to debris from a minor cave-in.  The boards were old but
unrotted.  After a few minutes working with her pocketknife, Scully
managed to free one of the boards from the timbers it was nailed to.  If
she could find a way to break it, she could make a splint for Mulder's
leg. 
     Once she entered the main tunnel again, she turned off the
flashlight--feeling her way along the left hand wall--there had been no
tunnels branching off on that side so she felt safe.  After a few minutes,
her eyes made out the light from the first shaft ahead of her, and soon
she saw Mulder's body huddled under the heat blanket.  He hadn't moved in
the time she'd been gone. 
     I can't explore every damned corner of this place, she thought to
herself.  There must be a better way to figure this out.  She picked up
both their backpacks and searched them.  She found some assorted items
that might be useful...and cursed herself for her healthy eating habits as
she pulled two candy bars from Mulder's pack--her rule against
between-meal snacking was not paying off right now. 
     Her search did not turn up the one thing she wanted; neither one
of them smoked so there were no matches, no lighters.  If she had a flame,
she might at least be able to figure out where the entrance to the mine
was by seeing which way the air moved through the mine. 
     Not that, if she found the entrance, it would do her a lot of
good.  Mulder was unable to travel over even ground--plowing through the
snow was out of the question.  She didn't want to leave him alone while
she went for help.  In a fit of inspiration, she pulled out the map they
had been following earlier; if she could figure out just how far the mine
was from the cabin, or any other vestige of civilization, she might feel
better about leaving him.  If it was close, she might be able to get help
before nightfall.  Assuming, of course, that you can find your way out of
the mine, she thought. 
     She scanned the map over and over.  There were no mines marked on
it.  She had no idea where they were.  "Damn it!"  Her voice rang through
the mine, her frustration echoing down miles of tunnels. 
     Mulder's eyes opened.  He saw his partner sitting a few feet away,
anger clouding her face.  "What's wrong, Scully?  Aside from the fact that
we're lost, cold, and have no food?" 
     She looked over at him.  How he could manage humor in the face of
all this was beyond her, but it did much to endear him to her.  "No food? 
Oh, and I suppose you conveniently forgot about the candy bars you stashed
in your backpack..." she retorted, moving over to check his leg. 
     He winced in pain a little as she unwrapped the leg.  She went to
work on the board she had brought back, managing to salvage two long
pieces.  She fashioned a splint and bound his leg back up.  She wasn't
pleased with it, but it would probably keep the leg immobile until she
could get him to a hospital. 
     "Well, Mulder, how's that?" 
     He ran his hand of the splint appreciatively.  "You would have
made a great Dr. Quinn," he told her.  His look became serious.  "Any
ideas on how to get out of this one?" he asked her. 
     "I've done a little bit of exploring.  Didn't turn up anything.  I
have no idea which way the entrance is from here and no brilliant thoughts
on how to find it." 
     "I don't think climbing out of the shaft is an option, either." 
     She glanced up.  "I used to be quite a gymnast when I was twelve,
but I don't think those braces would *hold* a twelve year old, let alone
an adult.  I'd say that one's out to." 
     Mulder reached into his pocket, pulling out his portable phone--it
was smashed.  "I was afraid of that.  Well, I guess there will be no
calvary." 
     "Well, maybe I should go back to looking for a way out.  There's
got to be one somewhere.  I thought I might try that way."  She pointed to
the tunnel opposite the one she'd already explored.  "Maybe I'll have
better luck there."  She paused.  "By the way, our little moccasined
friend has been here." 
     "You saw him?" 
     "No, his footprints are all over the place." 
     At that moment, something in the second tunnel caught Mulder's
attention--shadows.  "Scully..." he whispered at her, pointing over her
shoulder.  She turned around, drawing her gun out of instinct.  There was
light streaming from the tunnel.  She barely had time to register the
little fireballs--suddenly, she and Mulder were surrounded by them.  A
dozen of the lights which had visited them at the cabin moved about the
small cavern.  They moved toward the first tunnel, and Mulder barely
noticed the pain from his leg as he turned to watch them. 
     They were all different colors and moved around each other in
little indescribable orbits, reminding Mulder of the fanciful screen saver
he'd seen on Scully's computer.  Scully moved toward them.  They squirmed
further away from her but continued their little dance.  For several
minutes they played in the entrance to the large tunnel.  Working up her
courage, Scully reached out and lightly touched one.  She regretted it
immediately--it burned.  She pulled her hand back, wringing it in pain. 
The lights coalesced into a single ball of brilliance and then broke apart
and went speeding down the tunnel away from them. 
     Scully turned to Mulder.  He was still mesmerized by the lights
rushing away from them.  Behind him, on the ground, was a stone.  It
hadn't been there before.  But what sat on the stone chilled the heat in
her hand--chunks of cooked meat and pinenuts.  She gestured wordlessly at
it. 
     Mulder turned to see what she was pointing at.  He looked back at 
her, confusion and frustration written across his face.  "What the hell 
is going on?"

     Scully walked over to examine the rock and its contents.  A quick
sniff confirmed that the meat was definitely rabbit.  She'd eaten enough
on hunting trips with her father and brothers to recognize its distinctive
smell.  The pinenuts beside it were also roasted.  She turned back to
Mulder. 
     "Maybe this is supposed to be dinner?" she said. 
     "Assuming it wasn't this that killed the other victims..." 
     "The toxicology reports came back clean.  It wasn't their diet that
killed them."  Scully shifted uncomfortably.  "Other victims..." she
repeated quietly.  "Meaning we've joined that group?"  She raised an
eyebrow at her partner. 
     "I'd say that's a pretty safe assumption, wouldn't you?" 
     "It's beginning to look that way, but a victim to what?"  She glanced
around.  "The only danger we appear to be in is due to exposure." 
     He locked eyes with her in their old habit.  "Come on, Scully, even
you have got to believe that there's something going on here beside us
being lost.  How did we get lost in the first place?" he challenged her,
feeling the strength that he had lost beginning to build back up in him. 
     "We could have fallen down the hill and crawled into here..."  she
began, a little defensively, standing up. 
     He gestured to his leg.  "Scully, how far do you think I would have
gotten on this leg?  We're pretty deep into the mountain.  I doubt I could
have made it this far."  He looked up at her.  She was visibly shaken.  "I
suppose you could have dragged me here..." 
     She cut him off with a shake of her head.  "There are no marks to
indicate anything having been dragged into this cavern, certainly nothing
as big as you."  She looked down the diminutive length of her body.  "And
I think it's pretty obvious that I couldn't have carried you, certainly
not without remembering." 
     She knelt down and examined the ground again.  Her finger traced the
outline of a footprint.  She stood up again and surveyed the cavern in the
dim light, moving toward where she had found Mulder when she woke up. 
"This set," she gestured to a set of prints a few feet away, "and that
set," this time gesturing to where she herself had woken up, "are deeper
than the rest." 
     "Our mocassined friend again?" Mulder asked.  She nodded.  "He
carried us here," he said slowly.  "Why?"  He shook his head.  "Why bring
us here?" 
     "Good question."  She glanced down the tunnel into which the lights
had disappeared.  She sat down, heavily.  "And the lights?  What are
they?" 
     "They appear to be controlled by some intelligence," Mulder began. 
     She cut him off. "Or they have intelligence of their own."  She
looked back up at him.  "They seemed..." she paused, surprised to hear
herself saying the words, "...I don't know, friendly?" 
     Mulder reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling it out into the
light.  The burn showed an angry red on her hand.  "Friendly?"  he argued,
"That doesn't look like a mark of friendship to me.  How bad is it?" 
     She pulled her hand away and moved over to the small pool of water in
the ground.  "It's not too bad," she lied.  Her distraction had kept the
pain at bay.  Now that Mulder had called attention to it, her hand began
to throb painfully. She dipped her hand into the water to cool it.  A
moment later, she whirled on Mulder, realization written across her face. 
     "Burns!" she said sharply. 
     "Burns?" Mulder's brow crinkled in confusion.  Then it dawned on him. 
"All the victims had light burns on their hands," he said slowly.  "That
means..." 
     "That means you're right!" she finished for him.  "There is a
connection between the lights and the disappearances.  They all came in
contact with the lights."  She smiled sarcastically at him.  "I guess that
makes you feel better, huh?" 
     He pulled his leg painfully up toward him.  "Oh, yeah...I feel
great," he said, wincing with the pain.  She moved her hand to help him.  
The pain in his leg had settled down into a dull throb which her 
ministrations could do little to help. "Trapped in a mine in freezing 
weather with a broken leg and a sarcastic partner.  Boy, I really know 
how to live."  He grinned at her. 
     "With a storm coming on," she said, her humor vanishing.  "And we're
not the only ones lost," she reminded him.  She stood up again, peering
into the darkness of each of the tunnels.  "He was following her..." 
     "Maybe." 
     "If he was following her, he might have seen her fall over the same
cliff we did.  Her skis were at the bottom." 
     "Or he might have pushed her..." Mulder pointed out. 
     "There was no evidence that he was close enough to push her,"  she
said, with more feeling than she had intended.  "Their tracks never
converged." 
     "That's because they both stopped at the edge, the same one that
disappeared out from under us," he reminded her.  "Who knows how much more
of that edge disappeared since last night.  He was certainly close enough
to have pushed her." 
     "He didn't," she responded forcefully. 
     Mulder looked up at her.  "What do you base that on?" 
     She colored a little.  "I just don't think he did.  Or have you
cornered the market on hunches?" 
     He shrugged.  "No.  Sorry, Scully.  I suppose if I'm going to insist
on believing in flying saucers and ghosts, I should certainly believe in
something as old and venerable as 'women's intuition.'"  His eyes danced
with the chuckle he was suppressing. 
     "Anyway," she said, pulling herself up to her full height, "the point
is that he might have brought her in here as well."  She looked at him
uncertainly. 
     "It's okay, Scully.  I'll be fine."  He pulled his coat away from his
hip to expose his gun.  "You go look."  He picked up the flashlight from
the ground and tossed it to her.  "Just don't go too far, okay?" 
     She stood her ground.  "I don't want to leave you alone.  We don't
know..." 
     "Come on, Scully.  I've got my gun and..." 
     "And your gun probably won't have the least effect on the lights." 
She held her burned hand out.  "We know they are dangerous." 
     He grinned at her.  "Yeah, but I'm smart enough not to try to pet
them." 
     She walked right into it; she always did.  Scully sometimes wondered
if Mulder was an insomniac solely because he stayed up late concocting
these set-ups.  Sure, Dana, she thought, now who's paranoid? 
     She knew better than to argue with him.  It never did any good.  "All
right.  Fifteen minutes and then I'll turn around and come back."  He
nodded at her and watched her disappear down one of the passages. 
     He clasped his hands above his head and stretched, trying to ignore 
the stab of pain that ran up his leg.  The most annoying
thing about finding himself in this position was his inability to get
around, to help Scully.  He hated being powerless--always had. 
     He was glad to be alone for a minute, to not have her hovering over
him, forcing him to hide the extent of his physical agony from her.  It gave 
him new insight on how she must have felt recently.  In the
last few months, he had rarely let Scully out of his sight.  He had never
approached her directly, never prodded her to talk about what had
happened, what she remembered.  But he still watched her like a hawk,
always standing like some kind of twisted guardian angel--ready to protect
her from the dangers he constantly pulled her into.  Her actions the night
that he ran off to the frozen wastelands had proven to him that he could
not convince her to let him fight some of his battles alone.  Of course,
as she had pointed out the other night, they were no longer merely his
battles--they were theirs. 
     There were ways to stop her from following him into the kind of
trouble he seemed to constantly gravitate towards.  But that would require
him to separate himself from her entirely.  It was selfish and
irresponsible of him, he realized--but the thought of not having Scully at
his side was painful. 
     Not that his small, dynamic partner needed his protection anyway. 
She's pulled your fat out of the fire more often than you've returned the
favor, he noted cynically to himself.  It's nothing but arrogance to think
that you *can* protect her.  If anything, it was disrespectful of him to
treat her the way he did, watching her every movement as though she were a
half-witted two-year old. 
     The only problem was that, try as he might, he simply couldn't stop
it.  And falling in love with her had only made matters worse.  It was a
constant fight now--his respect for her versus his fear that he might lose
her again. 
     He looked up.  The light coming down the shaft was quickly fading. 
In a few minutes, it would be gone entirely.  Frustrated at his inability
to move about, Mulder scanned the cavern.  His eyes stopped on the pieces
of board Scully had left, useless and broken, a few feet away.  Using his
arms to pull himself across the ground, he moved, slowly and 
painfully, over to the small pile and went to work. 
     When Scully reached the fifth air shaft in the new tunnel, it became
obvious that she was moving toward the entrance--the shafts were growing
shorter and shorter.  However, the light was failing;  soon the sun would
set, leaving them with only the flashlight.  She had to go back. 
     Moving quickly to save battery power, Scully picked her way through
the tunnels to the cavern where Mulder waited.  She was only a little
surprised at what she found there--Mulder was leaning over a small pile of
wood and working furiously.  It seemed to be paying off; a thin trail of
smoke rose from the wood. 
     Mulder hardly seemed to notice the flashlight that was trained on
him.  His intensity blocked out everything but the task at hand.  Scully
smiled to herself; for all their differences, she and Mulder still had an
awful lot in common.  Without a word, she charged down the tunnel she had
explored earlier.  Reaching her destination, she placed the flashlight on
the ground, its beam hitting the ceiling and diffusing a little light
throughout the tunnel.  She attacked the boards she had found earlier,
managing to remove all but one of them.  Grabbing as many as she could
carry, she picked up the flashlight and raced back to where she had left
Mulder. 
     When she reentered the cavern, she found her partner sitting back
against the wall of the cave, feeding small splinters into the little fire
he had made.  She dumped the wood onto the ground next to him.  He looked
up at her, his face glowing, whether from the tiny fire or a sense of
pride she could not tell. 
     "I'd say you've earned your merit badge for today, Mulder,"  she
said, enjoying the happiness which he projected while tending his growing
fire. 
     "It's nice to know I didn't waste all the years I spent in the boy
scouts...never could understand why I had to learn to do this when there
were lighters and matches everywhere."  He chuckled to himself.  "Guess I
should call Jim's father and thank him when we get back." 
     "Gave your scoutmaster hell, did you, Mulder?"  She grinned at him. 
"Who would have guessed you had problems with authority..."  She quickly
retrieved the rest of the wood and returned to the cavern. 
     The last of the light coming down the shaft had disappeared.  The
cavern was lit only by the small fire that Mulder continued to work on. 
Cold air and an occasional flurry of light powered snow swirled down and
into the cavern, threatening to extinguish his efforts.  She grabbed a
scrap of cloth left from her earlier bandaging and wrapped it around a
long piece of wood.  Igniting her makeshift torch off of Mulder's fire,
she stepped into one of the smaller tunnels which branched off here. 
     The torch flickered dangerously.  She shook her head and moved into
the other unexplored tunnel, holding the torch up to let the wind act on
it.  The flame burned steadily. 
     "I think we'd better move into this tunnel, Mulder," she advised.  "I
think we'll do a whole lot better this evening away from the shaft and the
wind." 
     "Okay," he said, gathering up their meager supplies into the
backpacks.  "I think you'll have to schlep the luggage though." 
     Scully grabbed a couple of boards from next to Mulder and broke them
cross her knee into small pieces.  These she arranged carefully
twenty-five feet into the side tunnel and ignited with the torch.  The
firelight showed the tunnel's end another ten feet beyond.  Good, she
thought to herself.  This ought to keep things a little warmer. 
     Next Scully helped Mulder to his feet and supported him as he limped 
painfully into the tunnel.  It was an awkward affair--Scully suspected
that Mulder would probably do better on his own using the wall rather 
than trying to lean on someone a foot shorter.  But she appreciated his 
pretence of accepting help from her.  She settled him uncomfortably against 
a wall near the fire and quickly retrieved the rest of their belongings, 
including the gifted food on its oddly concave rock. 
     "Now all we need is marshmallows," he said, admiring their little
camp. 
     She smiled and went to work reheating the food over the small fire. 
A glance at the surprising large pile of wood reassured her about
tonight--the fire would last a good while.  Mulder pulled out the can of
Coke and one of the candy bars he had packed in his backpack. 
     "Not a bad little dinner," he commented, as Scully divided up the
meat and nuts into three portions.  Half of it she wrapped up in an
evidence bag, presenting Mulder with slightly over half of what remained. 
He groused a little, urging her to divide the food a little more evenly. 
     "I don't need as much as you do," she told him.  "I don't usually eat
heavily at night."  She pushed his offering back at him.  "Now eat,
Mulder, or I break the other leg." 
     He grinned at her and quickly finished off his little dinner, rubbing
his stomach appreciatively.  "Mmmm!  First, Chicken Parmesan and now this. 
I think you went into the wrong line of business, Scully.  Cooking is your
true calling."  He didn't move quickly enough to avoid the swinging
backpack. 
     He grabbed the backpack and tussled with her a little until the pain
in his leg gave him a twinge.  His wince prompted her to prescribe two
more aspirin, which he washed down with the Coke.  She knew he must be in 
agony; her inability to alleviate his pain ate away at her. 
     She cleaned up a little as he tended the fire.  Next she went to work
on his leg, checking her own handiwork from earlier--he was doing better
than she had expected.  She rebound the leg and covered him with the
blanket, finally settling herself next to him against the wall. 
     She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them against her. 
Mulder watched the firelight play off of the soft curves of her face and
the bright reflection of her hair.  His physical response to her beauty,
her vulnerability, upset him.  He was ashamed of himself for his earlier
lustful lapse and for the fact that he could not banish the image of
Scully's half-clad body from his mind. 
     After all, he was not some pre-pubescent boy; Mulder had had his
share of experience with women, though never had he felt like this about
any of the women who had shared his bed.  His physical desire for her made
him feel as though he was cheapening their bond, and certainly his love
for her.  He looked away.  It was more, though, he realized, than physical
desire.  More than anything, he wanted to touch her, to be as close as
possible to her, to finally open up all the frightened and lonely
emptinesses that haunted him ceaselessly.  She was the only person who had
ever been close to him without scaring him.  She accepted him and cared
for him.  He wanted to tell her, to show her, all that she had come to
mean to him--and all that he was willing to give her in return. 
     He glanced back over at her; her chin was resting on her knees, her
eyes focused on the fire.  He knew she was working, trying to find a
solution to the problem at hand.  Her brow crinkled, and she began to rock
back and forth a little.  He reached out and touched her shoulder,
breaking her train of thought. 
     "Scully, I'm exhausted.  I think we better get some sleep." 
     She nodded in agreement and started to arrange herself on the floor. 
     "Scully," he started to protest.  It was stupid and silly for her to
sleep apart from him--there was only one blanket and anyone who had ever
taken survival training knew that sharing warmth was of paramount
importance.  He geared himself up for the fight that was coming. 
     "You can't..." he began, pulling the blanket away from himself a
little. 
     "You're right, Mulder," she cut him off and moved toward him.  "How
are we going to do this?"  He thought for a moment and then slid down to
lie on his back. 
     He moved the blanket aside and reached up to pull her gently down
toward him.  Instinctively, she figured it out and moved to lie on the
crook of his arm, the warmth and softness of her body pressing against his
side, inspiring more of the damned images and feelings he had been
fighting.  He pulled her close to him and covered them both with the
blanket, pulling a backpack under his head. 
     She burrowed against him a little and closed her eyes.  "I'll never
complain about a lumpy hotel mattress ever again," she murmured against
his chest. 
     The caffeine and pain made sleep elusive for Mulder, but Scully
dropped off almost immediately.  He lie there, feeling her pressed into
him, and enjoyed the sensation.  He could get used to this.  In her sleep,
she moved her leg up across his left one, tangling them both up together. 
The fantasy of spending his usually sleepless nights just holding her,
feeling the warmth and security of her body against his, watching and
feeling her breathing moving gently through her--he wondered whether he
could ever tire of such sublime comfort. 
     He alternated between looking at the fire and her.  He knew when she
entered REM sleep; he watched with fascination as her eyes moved, taking
in images unseen by his own.  It was only when her body began to move that
he realized the nature of the dream.  Her thrashing became pronounced
enough that he considered waking her to free her from the nightmare. 
     "No!" The scream ripped out of her throat, and she recoiled sharply
from him.  Her eyes were opened, but he knew she saw nothing but her
dream.  He pulled her back down toward him, and she struggled feebly
against him.  "Mulder?!" she cried out.  He stroked her hair, trying to
calm her.  "Mulder?" she repeated quietly, "they're hurting..."  Her voice
drifted off as his insistent cooing and touching began to break through
her dream.  Finally she relaxed back against him.  "Mulder," she murmured
once more, falling into a more peaceful dream. 
     He held her gently.  "It's okay, Dana.  It's alright.  I'll never let
them hurt you again," he whispered into her hair.  "They're not going to
take you away from me again," he said with finality.  A few minutes later,
his own eyes closed and for the first night in months, his own nightmares
left him unmolested. 
     At the edge of the darkness, a third pair of eyes continued to watch
for a few minutes and then retreated further into the
darkness of the mine. 
 
          ****************************************
     
 

                          Other Considerations
                                Part Ten

                             by Laura Akers

     Mulder woke to the sound of crying.  In the absolute darkness of the
mine, he reached down to gently touch Scully's head where it rested
lightly on his chest.  Another nightmare?  He began to stroke her hair as
he had last night. "Scully?  What is it?" 
     She stirred a bit but did not answer him. 
     Concerned, he pulled her up the length of his body until her face was
a few unseen inches from his own.  Trying not to surprise or perhaps (in
the darkness) hurt her, he ran his hand slowly up her neck to her face. 
Carefully he brushed his thumb across her cheek to wipe away the tears he
knew must be there--her face was dry. 
     "Mulder?" he heard her say, sleepiness evident in her voice. 
     He held her a little closer.  "What's the matter, Dana?" he asked,
his voice tinged with concern.  "Why are you...?" 
     They both heard the sob this time.  Scully rolled to her feet in a
single smooth motion.  It took her a moment to orient herself in the
darkness.  She heard Mulder moving around below her and felt him press her
gun into her hand.  She took it and the flashlight and began to move down
the tunnel toward the junction they had left last night. 
     Mulder cursed at himself and, in the light of Scully's quickly
retreating flashlight, found the remains of the fire.  Pulling himself to
a sitting position, he went to work nursing the few tiny embers back into
flame. 

     Scully moved cautiously down the tunnel, turning off the flashlight
before she reached the junction.  The light in the cavern was low, but she
could distinguish rough shapes.  Huddled against the far wall was a woman. 
Her body was contorted into a tight ball, and the only movement she made
was an occasional shaking of her small frame.  Her hands covered her face;
she was unaware of any other presence in the tunnels. 
     Scanning the cavern quickly, Scully pocketed her gun and went to the
girl.  Crouching next to her, Scully lightly touched the shoulder of the
sobbing teenager. 
     Movement exploded from the girl as she threw herself in terror across
the cavern and away from Scully, coming to rest against the far wall.  The
poor girl looked up at her with fear. 
     "It's all right!" Scully tried to reassure her.  She approached her
slowly.  "I don't want to hurt you," she told her. 
     Released from her initial surprise and fear, the young woman began to
sob again, falling forward onto her knees and cradling her head on her
forearms.  Scully kneeled down next to her quivering form and wrapped her
arms around the teenager in an attempt to calm her. 
     "It's okay, Mulder!" she called down the tunnel to her partner.  "I
think we've found Stacy."  The young woman nodded her head mutely, trying
to stifle her sobs. 
     Scully stood up, pulling the girl up with her.  She wrapped an arm
securely around Stacy's waist and helped her walk back to their camp. 

     He watched his partner leading the girl towards the fire that he had
managed to build back up.  Scully settled Stacy next to Mulder.  She
looked tired and ragged.  Mulder reached out and touched the girl's
hand--it was ice-cold.  He grabbed the blanket off his lap and wrapped her
in it, tucking it tightly around her shivering form. 
     Scully busied herself with examining the teenager for frostbite,
while Mulder went to work rubbing her limbs back to life.  Scully caught
her partner's eye over the girl's head and nodded.  Grimly, he bent back
to his task. 
     "Stacy?" Scully smiled down at her, trying to put the girl at ease. 
     The teenager looked up at her, wiping the tears away from her face
with the back of her hand.  "Yeah?" 
     "The whole mountain's looking for you.  What happened?" 
     Stacy looked at her in confusion.  "What happened...?" she repeated
slowly, as if the words made no sense. 
     "It's okay, Stacy," Mulder told her.  "You're in shock."  He began to
rub her arms and hands.  "Can you answer some questions?"  He looked up at
her with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. 
     She warmed to him immediately.  "Yes," she answered quietly in a
slightly croaking tone. 
     Scully smiled a little at the girl's reaction to her partner.  She
wondered if he was conscious of his ability to charm women; she doubted
it.  "You're frozen right through," Scully said.  "How long have you been
in here?" 
     "It seems like forever," Stacy said.  "I'm just not sure." 
     Mulder leaned toward her.  "You disappeared about thirty-six hours
ago.  Was it day or night when you woke up here in the mine?"  he asked,
trying to narrow it down. 
     "Day...yesterday," she told him, pulling the blanket even tighter
around her. 
     "How did you get here?" 
     "I don't know," she said slowly.  "I was out skiing...my boyfriend
and I broke up last weekend," she said pointedly, glancing over at Mulder. 
"I just had to get out of the house...away from my parents, and I mean, he
just kept calling."  She shifted uncomfortably.  "I grabbed my skis and
headed for the meadow." 
     He smiled at her.  "I know how it is...sometimes you just need to be
alone.  I get like that alot."  He glanced up at Scully who gave him a
small grin.  "What happened when you got to the meadow?" 
     "The meadow..." she started slowly, as if she was having trouble
remembering.  "I was skiing across the meadow...and then I saw the
lights." 
     "Was it the first time you saw them?" he pushed. 
     "Nah, I see 'em all the time, but..." 
     "But?" 
     "This time they were so close, and there were so many of them..." her
voice trailed off.  "It was like watching all these fairies. You know,
like Tinkerbell?"  He smiled at her.  "They were so cool!" 
     "Then what happened?" 
     "I don't know.  That's the last thing I remember.  I woke up in here. 
I just wandered around for so long.  But my head hurt so bad and I
just..."  she buried her head in her hands. 
     Scully kneeled behind her and gently probed Stacy's scalp.  The
teenager flinched away from her at first, but Mulder intervened.  "It's
okay.  Agent Scully is a doctor," he told her, placing a hand on her
shoulder in reassurance.  "Let her look," he said firmly. 
     Scully located the nasty goose-egg on Stacy head and checked the girl
for concussion.  "I think you may have rattled your brains around pretty
well, but they're all still there," she assured her. 
     "You've been looking for me?" 
     "Since yesterday," he told her.  "The whole sheriff's department has
been combing the mountain for you.  You had a lot of people really
worried.  Your parents will be relieved to hear you're all right." 
     "Now that you've found me, what next?"  She glanced meaningfully over
at Mulder's bandaged leg.  "Banged up as you look, I don't think you can
cover much ground on skis--if we had 'em."  Her color was beginning to
return a little. 
     "He's not exactly great on skis when he's in good condition,"  Scully
said, grinning at her partner. 
     Mulder waggled his finger at Scully in reproach. "Don't worry,
Stacy...we'll figure something out.  You just scoot a little closer to the
fire and get warm." 
     Stacy moved toward the fire, while Mulder pulled himself back as well
as he could.  A quick movement of his head, and Scully was at his side. 
     "It's a good question, you know.  What are we going to do?" 
     Scully bit her lip lightly.  "I think the first thing we need to do
is find the way out."  She stood up.  "Look, Mulder, I'm gonna do some
more exploring.  I think I was on my way to finding the entrance
yesterday." 
     "Okay."  He handed her a pencil and the empty Coke can.  "Bring back
some water if you can.  I don't think we want to risk dehydration." 
     She nodded quietly, taking the pencil and can.  "If I haven't found
it in two hours, I'll be back." 
     "And if you do find it?" 
     "I'll try to figure out where on the mountain we are." 
     "All right."  He flashed her with his "be careful" look and then
turned to Stacy.  She had laid down and, wrapped in a tight ball, was
sleeping.  Mulder rummaged through Scully's backpack for last night's
leftovers and quickly divided them into three parts.  "Here," he said,
handing his partner a portion in the evidence bag.  "Don't be gone too
long." 
     "I won't.  Take care of her."  He nodded, and she set off. 
     Quickly and methodically, Scully worked her way toward what she knew
must be the entrance.  As she moved along, the air shafts became shorter,
and the air flowed more briskly around her.  After an hour and twenty
minutes, she began to glimpse the literal light at the end of the tunnel. 
Picking up her pace, she quickly emerged from the mine and stood blinking
in the early-morning sunshine. 
     She lay the map over a rock and scanned the area, trying to pinpoint
her location.  With everything she could see covered in snow, it was
difficult, but she finally managed to figure it out-- they were about six
miles from their own cabin which lay over the crest of the mountain. 
Folding the map back up, she sat down on the rock and stretched a little
in the warming sunshine.  She had a little time before she had to turn
back so she sat there, absorbing the sun. 

     Mulder stewed in his frustration.  He felt utterly helpless,
completely useless.  Bending over the fire again, he added one of the few
remaining pieces of wood and checked on Stacy.  She was warmer to the
touch now and her color was healthier than earlier.  He slipped his hands
under the blanket and checked her feet--still ice-cold.  If we don't get
her to a hospital soon, she'll probably lose some of her toes, he thought
ruefully. 

     Scully plunged back into the mine, following the sketches she had
made on the way out.  A sound caught her ear as she passed a side tunnel
which she hadn't bothered to explore earlier, bringing her up short.  She
stood still, listening carefully--something or someone was moving around. 
Pocketing the map and drawing her gun, Scully slowly made her way down the
third tunnel.  She could see almost nothing--she found her way by
listening and keeping one hand in solid contact with the left wall of the
tunnel. The darkness began to lift into the grayness that she now
associated with air shafts. 
     She slowed.  The sounds began to clarify themselves in her mind--rock
striking rock and a soft foot-fall.  She paused, peering ahead trying to
make out any movement.  She could see nothing.  She moved silently on, gun
at ready. 
     She stepped into the junction without a sound, scanning the cavern
quickly.  There he was.  In one corner crouched a man working at something
she could not see.  Her eyes took in everything all at once--Mulder's skis
leaning against the wall, a small glittering pile of jewelry, two dead,
skinned rabbits next to the man and another pile of pinenuts on the other
side.  Her light gasp of realization caught his attention and he sprang up
from the small fire he'd been tending.  She had only an instant to take
him in--the rough moccasins; the makeshift hide garment; the wild, unkempt
hair; his surprised look--and then she was surrounded by the lights. 

     When she came to, she had a splitting headache, and her gun was gone. 
It took her a moment to get her bearings.  She was at another junction,
bathed in the bright sunshine pouring down the shaft from the noon-day
sun.  She quickly checked herself for injury; finding none, she stood up
and searched the walls of the cavern--there it was, one of the marks she
had made in her earlier exploration to keep herself from getting lost. 
Pulling out her map, she quickly oriented herself and began to run back to
the same camp where Mulder and Stacy waited. 
     Mulder heard her long before he saw her.  She was moving quickly and
making alot of racket--something was wrong!  The beam from the flashlight
bounced off the walls of the cavern; he grabbed his own gun and pulled
himself quickly and painfully around to the other side of fire in
preparation.  She burst around the corner, looking wild-eyed.  Seeing him
waiting, she pulled up so short that she stumbled and fell in a heap on
the ground next to him. 
     Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she struggled to force
words out between them. 
     "Saw....him." 
     "Who?  Our friend with the strange footwear?"  She nodded. 
     "In...mine...found...entrance," she managed to get out. 
     "Where is he?  What was he doing?" 
     "He...fire...food...gun." 
     "Come on, just catch your breath, and we'll try this again."  He
pulled her into a sitting position facing him and waited for her breathing
to return to normal. 
     She pulled herself together and started again.  "I found the
entrance, and I found him," she began and then realized that Mulder was
not listening to her.  He was looking over her shoulder.  She whirled
around to follow the direction of his gaze. 
     There, in the mouth of the tunnel, stood a wild-haired,
moccasined figure. 
 
 
 
 
*****************************************************************
 
 
 
                    
               Other Considerations
             Part Eleven (Will this insanity never end?)
                          by Laura Akers

     Scully felt Mulder reach down between them for his gun.  She grabbed
his wrist to stop him. 
     "Wait," she whispered, turning slowly to face the intruder. 
     The figure stood in sharp silhouette in the light pouring in from the
main tunnel.  In his hands was a flat, fibrous disk covered with cooked
meat, pinenuts, and something green.  Watching them both closely, he
approached.  Mulder tensed, preparing for some sort of attack.  Scully
felt the change in her partner's posture and squeezed his wrist, trying to
get him to back down. 
     The man crouched down, setting the food on the ground three feet away
from Scully and then quickly retreating to the other side of the fire,
where he sat and watched them with intensity. 
     The three remained locked with a kind of paralysis, studying each
other. 
     Scully broke the tension.  Managing a weak smile, she slowly reached
toward the food he had put in front of her.  Taking a piece of still-warm
meat, she tore a section off and handed it to Mulder, never taking her
eyes off the figure on the other side of the fire.  She sniffed at it
appreciatively and began to eat, exaggerating her enjoyment of the food
for the benefit of their visitor. 
     Mulder caught on and emulated his partner's behavior.  He didn't know
exactly what Scully had in mind but, as always, he trusted her.  
Moving aside a portion for the sleeping teenager, they ate the remainder 
slowly, using the time to study the man. 
     He was wearing the same rough tunic and moccasins that Scully had
seen when she encountered him earlier.  Now, though, he was also wearing a
pair of leather leggings which reflected the unfinished quality of the 
tunic.  The rough design of his clothing reminded her a little of Native 
American costumes--minus any of the fine workmanship or style of such 
clothing. 
     His hair was long and dark and obviously hadn't been cut or combed
for years.  It tangled around his face, partly obscuring his features. 
His fingernails were long and dirty, and his hands were covered with
callouses.  His arms and calves were scarred savagely in several places. 
It was obvious that he had been out in the wilderness for a very long
time. 
     Mulder watched the man move toward the fire to stoke up the flame a
little and warm himself.  His movements were swift, economical, and, well,
very much like those of an animal. 
     He moved back away from the fire and brushed the hair away from his
face.  Both agents studied his face for a moment. 
     "Mulder?" Scully breathed quietly.  The intruder's head jerked up at
the sound of her voice, but he remained where he was, watching her
closely.  She smiled at him.  "I'm Dana," she said, trying to keep her
voice level and friendly. 
     He looked confused.  She tried again.  "Thanks for the food.  I was
fine, but if Mulder here doesn't eat every few minutes, he gets a little
cranky." 
     "Thanks, Scully.  I..." Mulder began, trying to maintain the
lightness in her tone. 
     "Ssss...kuuuuh," the man attempted from between cracked, chapped
lips. 
     "Scully," Dana repeated for him.  "I'm Dana Scully, and this is
Mulder." 
     "Ssssc...uhhlll..." 
     "Scully," she repeated again, her brow crinkling in confusion. 
     "Sss..kuuhh..lee," he concluded, grinning in triumph. 
     "Mulder, I don't think he speaks English," she said, turning to her
partner. 
     Mulder locked eyes with her.  "Scully, your name is not English." 
     "Well, yeah, but he doesn't seem to understand anything I've said." 
     "I think you're right about that, but I don't think that's the
problem. 
     "What do you mean?" 
     "I get the feeling he hasn't spoken any language for a long time." 
     "You might be right, Mulder, but how long can he have been out here? 
Mulder, how old would you say he is?"  They both studied him for a
moment.  He crouched on the other side of the fire and rocked silently
back and forth and watched her expectantly. 
     "Okay, Scully, I'm confused.  With all those scars, I'd have to say
he's older than Methuselah." 
     "Yeah, but look at that face." 
     "I know, he looks about sixteen.  But he can't possibly be that
young.  Can he?" 
     They looked at each other a moment.  Then, once again it happened. 
"Mulder, he's a wild child." 
     "You think he's a modern day Mowgli?" Mulder said with his trademark
blend of sarcasm and smile.  "Raised by wolves?"  He paused.  "In this
area, I'd have to say deer or coyotes." 
     "I'm not sure..." 
     "There *is* at least one scientifically documented case--in France at
the beginning of this century.  I'm not sure that's really enough evidence
though, Scully, to jump to *that* conclusion." 
     "Well..." 
     "I'm going to have to talk to Skinner...I think you're starting to
slip," Mulder teased. 
     "It would," she said, in that serious tone of hers, "explain both his
age and how long he's been out here." 
     "And his inability to speak.  In none of the wild-child cases were
any of the subjects able to learn a language, though some of them did
develop other ways of communicating--forms of sign language and such." 
     "So you think he could be one?" 
     "I don't know...how could he survive this kind of weather for so many
years?  I mean, I realize that in the case of the Wolf-Boy in France, the
doctor did comment on the child's ability to withstand cold and heat.  But
look at those moccasins...how could he manage to avoid frostbite wearing
those things?" 
     "When I found him in one of the other tunnels, he had a fire going. 
Also, he was using tools.  I'd say he's both bright and adaptable.  He
must have discovered more mechanical ways to protect himself from the
environment--after all, he's been on his own much longer than any case
I've ever heard of.  He's obviously had a little longer to work some of
these things out." 
     "Granted, but I'm still not sure I believe that's all there is to
it," Mulder said with a shrug. 
     "Wait a minute.  Fox Mulder doesn't *believe*?  I'm going to have to
put in for a psychological evaluation when we get back.  I'd swear I'm
hallucinating." 
     "You're always welcome on my couch, Scully.  No charge.  It's not
leather, but it'll do."  He raised an eyebrow suggestively.  "It's been a
while since I've done any psychoanalysis, but for you..." 
     She elbowed him in the ribs and glanced over at their visitor.  He
was still crouched down watching the two of them and becoming more and
more puzzled by their interaction. 
     "I'll take that as a no, then," Mulder said, rubbing his stomach
where she'd hit him.  He smiled to himself.  He wondered if the best way
to keep his new secret from his partner might not be by hiding it in plain
sight.  Considering our track record, she might get a little suspicious if
I *stopped* flirting with her, he thought to himself. 
     "So what now?" Scully said.  "We may have solved the mystery of how
we got here, but we still need to figure out a way to get back to
civilization.  Any ideas?" 
     "Do you think he'd be willing to help us?" 
     "I don't think asking him would work," she said sarcastically. 
"Maybe if we could find a way to make him understand what it is we
want..." 
     Mulder had noticed that Stacy had started to stir and moved over to
check on her.  The teenager sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of
her eyes.  She smiled at Mulder and turned to see if Scully was around--if
the coast was clear, she might... 
     Then her eyes came to rest on their visitor.  She threw herself
toward Mulder as the scream began to rise up out of her throat. 
     At the sound of her scream, the wild-child sprang up and clenched his
fists at his side.  Mulder had only a moment to see his anger and then he
and Stacy were lost in the lights. 
     For Scully, the moment took on a movie-like quality--time slowed, and
she was able to see, distinctly, everything that happened nearly
simultaneously.  She had not been prepared for Stacy's wakening, though she
knew the girl was already emotionally over-wrought and would probably be
hysterical at the sight of their new friend--the scream had not taken her
by surprise but it had a dramatic effect on the wild-child.  He was on his
feet instantly and stood before Scully with his eyes closed and his fists
trembling from the muscular tension.  The lights appeared around him,
reminding Scully of some of the aura photographs that Mulder had shown
her.  Then they moved to surround her partner and the hysterical teenager. 
     She watched their reaction.  Stacy's voice died away immediately and
both their bodies relaxed.  Scully identified the vacant look on their
faces; they were both under some kind of hypnotic spell, an obvious effect
of the lights.  Everything came together in her head. 
     "Please," she said in a quiet voice, holding herself still in her
attempt to intercede.  "She's just scared..." 
     He turned to look at her, anger and confusion written across his
face.  She was not afraid, though.  Bowing her head a little in what she
knew was a common deferring posture in many mammal species, she kept her
voice calm, "Let them go...it's all right." 
     She looked up through the hair that had fallen over her eyes.  His
body was relaxing, and his hands were now open and hanging loosely at his
sides.  Glancing over at her partner and Stacy, she saw the lights fade
away; their bodies collapsed against each other as they both lost
consciousness. 
     Coming out of her supplicating posture, she looked back up at him. 
He had resumed his crouching position, watching her closely.  Slowly, so
not to surprise him a second time, she moved to where Mulder and Stacy
were tangled together in a heap and shook her partner back to
consciousness. 
     Mulder woke to find himself disoriented and in a slightly
embarrassing position.  With the help of his partner, he managed to
disengage himself.  "What happened?" 
     "What do you remember?" 
     "She screamed, and then I saw the lights." 
     "Mulder," she said lowly and with as little emotion as possible,
"he's the one controlling them." 
     Her partner looked up at her and then over at the young man.  "Are
you sure?  How could he be controlling them--through artificial means?" 
     "I think he has...uh, I think the term is 'pyrokinetic' powers.  And
they appear to have a hypnotic quality to them.  Which explains..." 
     "Which explains how several experienced mountaineers could get lost
and die of exposure,"  he finished for her.  "It all makes sense now. 
They were lured up onto the mountain and probably into this same mine by
the lights.  But why?  Do you think this is something he *intended* to
do?" 
     "I'm not sure.  It's possible that they were attracted by the lights
without his knowledge." 
     "But what kept them from coming back?  They weren't all injured, and
surely some of them must have recognized the dangers of hypothermia and
frostbite in this weather." 
     Scully bit her lips in frustration.  For some reason, she couldn't
believe that the man had intended to hurt anyone; he just didn't *seem*
malicious.  The idea that he might have either caused or consciously
contributed to their deaths upset her. 
     "Mulder, I don't think *he* did anything to hurt them.  Why would he
want to?  He appears to have everything he needs up here already."  A
memory of what she saw in the other tunnel made her pause.  "I think he
has been keeping the jewelry and other articles missing off the bodies of
the victims." 
     "Do you think he would have killed the others to get them?"  Mulder
asked, never taking him eyes off the man. 
     "I doubt it.  There were no indications that any of them died of
anything but exposure.  He didn't murder any of them.  I'm not sure he
intended any of them any harm..." 
     "He certainly may have caused them harm, intentional or not."  He
swung around to look at her.  "We've got to get out of here.  The question
is, will he let us go or not?  He's been feeding us--is this a kidnapping
or simply some kind of mountain altruism?"  He paused.  "What do you
think, Scully?  Is he going to let us just walk out of here?" 
     "There's one way to find out."  She stood up, squared her shoulders,
and began to walk quickly toward the tunnel opening.  Mulder reached out a
hand to stop her but he was not quick enough.  Scully evaded him and
continued. 
     This time, Mulder watched as the lights appeared around the man and
then swarmed over toward Scully, forming a grid in the mouth of the tunnel
in front of her.  He waited for her to stop, expecting frustration and
anger on her face when she turned to look at him.  But she continued on. 
For a moment, Mulder wondered what the hell she was doing, strolling idly
into a wall of fire, and then he realized what was happening--she was
hypnotized, unaware of the danger she was walking right into.  With a rush
of adrenalin, he pushed himself up, ignoring the sickening sound his leg
made and the pain that threatened to overcome him, and threw himself
forward toward her.  He tackled her roughly and rolled back down to the
ground with her under him, away from the wall of flame.  The pain was
excruciating, and he thanked the gods for the blessed numbness
of unconsciousness that he could feel rapidly descending on him. 
 
                         
     
*****************************************************
 
 
=====================================================================
======

From: akersl@nevada.edu (LAURA AKERS)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Other Considerations Part 12
Date: 29 May 1995 16:31:05 GMT


Here's the next part.  My editor is studying for her MA comps (You go, 
girl!) so  she hasn't been able to give the feedback for the 
revision...but soon, I promise!


Standard Disclaimer--Mulder and Scully belong (if anything can be said to 
belong to anybody--see Jung) to CC and 10-13.  Some of the other things 
belong to me.  Distribute as you please with my name attached.  Clean up 
your room.  Don't stay out past 11:00 without calling.... (also not mine, 
but damned funny read for a t-shirt care tag)

               Other Considerations

                    Part 12
          by Laura Akers


     Scully regained consciousness first and found herself trapped under
Mulder's unmoving body.  Marshalling all her strength, she rolled to her
left, taking him with her.  Freed from his weight, she scanned the cavern
for their visitor--he was gone.  Stacy lay in a corner shaking
hysterically, her eyes glazed over and unseeing.  Scully knelt at her
partner's side.  The leg was broken again, this time with the bone nearly
breaking the skin.  It would be impossible to set again--she had to get
help immediately for both Stacy and Mulder's sakes. 
     But how? she thought grimly.  My partner's incapacitated and Stacy's,
well, not doing much better.  Scully moved over to where Stacy lay.  It
was going to take teamwork she knew, and Stacy seemed to be in slightly
better shape than Mulder. 
     "Stacy?" Scully shook the teenager by the shoulder.  "Stacy, I need
you to snap out of this.  I need your help if we're going to get out of
this."  Stacy remained unresponsive.  Scully shook harder.  "Stacy!" she
yelled in the girl's face.  "Stacy, look at me!  Now!" 
     Slowly the teenager's eyes began to focus on her face.  Another good
shake and Stacy was blinking away her shock.  "I...  he...." 
     "Stacy," Scully said in her calmest voice, "where did he go?  Did you
see him leave?" 
     She nodded at Scully.  "He...made the lights go away" she said in
confusion, the truth beginning to dawn on her.  Looking at Scully, she
pointed to the entrance.  "And then he went out." 
     "Did he go left or right?" Scully pressed. 
     "Uh, right, I think." 
     Toward the entrance of the mine, Scully concluded as sat back against
the smooth wall of the tunnel to think for a moment.  Somehow, she had to
get out of the mine without "Mowgli" knowing.  For all they knew, he was
watching them now. 
     After a moment, she turned back to Stacy.  "Stacy, I need you to do
something.  We need to get Mulder to a hospital soon.  He's in a lot of
pain."  She smiled encouragingly at the teen.  "Will you help me?" 
     Stacy nodded, sniffed, and sat up.  "What do you want me to do?" she
said with a soberness that surprised Scully. 
     "We need to distract the man who was here.  He's not dangerous, but
he doesn't want to let us go either.  I need you to keep him busy while I
get help.  I don't think it will take much to keep him occupied...just
talking to him seemed to have some effect."  She took Stacy by the hand
and, grabbing her backpack, led her out to the cavern.  "I think I know
where he went." 
     Scully was not comfortable with what she was about to do, with what
she was asking Stacy to do, but she could see no way around it.  Mulder
was unable to walk, and Stacy's frostbite was already terribly dangerous;
no, she was the only one who could go.  She was worried about having Stacy
distract their captor; the girl was not doing better emotionally than she
was doing physically, but there was simply not another choice.  Mulder
would be--she shuddered at the thought--incapacitated by the pain that
awaited him when he woke up.  She had to get them out of there *now*. 

               ************

     As they moved through the mine, Scully pointed out the marks that she
had made to guide herself back to their camp--Stacy might have to follow
them later. Scully located the side tunnel she had first found the
wild-child and pulled Stacy back to give her instructions.  The teenager
was supposed to keep him occupied while she made a run for the cabin--her
cellular phone would have help on the way faster than trying to reach the
forestry station, she decided. 
     "Are you sure you can do this?" she asked Stacy.  "Because I'll
understand..." 
     "Look," Stacy responded, "there isn't another way, is there?"  Scully
shook her head.  "Then I'll do it.  Just don't make us wait too long,
okay?" she pleaded with a slight smile.  "Hurry back!" 
     "I will," Scully promised and watched the teenager disappear down the
side tunnel.  She waited for a moment, biting her lip in frustration. 
Stacy's voice began to echo back down the passageway- -she was informing
"Mowgli" of his wardrobe's shortcomings and suggesting interesting ways of
using flora to accessorize.  Scully grinned and stole quietly out of the
mine. 

               *****************

     When Mulder awoke, the rush of pain was almost enough to render him
unconscious again.  He struggled against it and won; his vision became
clearer and his breathing steadier.  "Scully?"  He gritted his teeth and
rolled onto his other side.  "Stacy?"  He was alone.  Glaring around the
camp, he reasoned with himself.  Aside from the dirt and rocks he had
kicked up when he threw himself at Scully, there were no signs of
struggle.  Wherever his partner and Stacy had wandered off to, they had
obviously done it with little or no encouragement from their
visitor--their kidnapper.  He was sure of it now.  The man *was*
responsible for the disappearances;  he had used his pyrokinetic powers to
lure the others here.  But why?  What could he possibly want from them? 
He obviously had food, shelter, and warmth.  What else could he need? 
     Mulder's eyes scanned the cavern as though an answer might lurk in
the corners.  Where the hell had Scully gone with Stacy?  He hated being
left alone.  Then it hit him--loneliness!  Up in the wilderness for all
these years, a wild-child would have to learn how to provide for all of
his own needs...even the human need for companionship.  He would not have
understood the danger he had brought upon those he abducted...why they, so
unused to the cold, would have each slowly succumbed to exposure.  Scully
was right.  He had not intended them any harm.  Mulder was excited by his
conclusions, but he had no one to share them with. 
     Where the hell is that woman? he fumed to himself. 

               ****************

     The moment Scully cleared the mouth of the mine, she began to move
quickly, not an easy thing in deep snow.  It was six miles to the cabin,
with the peak of the mountain between her and it.  She tried not to let it
daunt her. 
     It was only a matter of time before their captor discovered her
disappearance.  What would his reaction be?  Anger at those who remained? 
Scully shivered at the thought of Stacy or Mulder, injured as her partner
was, at the mercy of his anger.  More likely, she thought to herself,
he'll simply come after me.  Hardly more comforting.  Scully began to move
faster. 
     Somehow, Stacy held her fear in check.  She had kept his attention
for the better part of an hour by babbling on about the things she knew
best--clothes, shopping, boys.  But the strain was beginning to show.  She
was having a hard time concentrating, the cold and exhaustion wearing her
down.  He had lost interest now and was moving about the cavern, making
preparation for dinner.  He was reasonably friendly, Stacy thought to
herself, offering her scraps of not-yet-cooked meat as he stripped them
off the rabbit he was butchering with a flint knife.  Only the knowledge
that he wouldn't let them go kept her fear at the forefront.  She knew she
and Mulder were in a lot of trouble...she'd been a candy-striper at the
local hospital for two months last fall--she knew what frostbite looked
like.  It was sweet of the both of them to try to hide it from her, but
she knew better.  And Mulder.  He was in a bad way.  If they didn't get
out of here soon... 
     Stacy looked at the light coming down the shaft--it was getting dark. 
She wondered how far Scully had gotten.  Once it got dark, the temperature
would drop like a rock.  The mine was no warmer but at least they had a
fire.  Unprotected and trying to cross the mountain, Scully might not last
very long... 

               *****************

     Mulder added the very last of the wood to the fire, cursing himself
for being unable to do anything more constructive than waste the last of
their fuel.  He looked down at his leg as though it had betrayed him.  The
pain was spreading throughout his body, and he was growing weaker by the
second.  His only comfort was that Scully had been gone a long time. 
Maybe she had figured a way to get them out of here. 
     But where was Stacy?  He knew his partner would not have taken the
teenager across the mountain to try to reach help.  It was surprising that
the poor girl could even stand with her feet in the condition they were. 
And she wouldn't have wandered far from the fire by herself, he was sure
of that. 
     He was getting colder, despite the increased heat the fire was giving
off.  The blanket was on the other side of the fire, by where Stacy had
been sleeping.  He tried to sit up, pushing himself off of the ground with
his arms.  The pain threatened to overcome him again; he stopped halfway
up, with his weight on his elbows behind him.  He relaxed for a moment,
trying to gather the strength to drag himself to the other side of the
fire. 
     Gritting his teeth against the pain, he began to make his way around
the fire, stopping after each small movement to rest. 

               ***************

     Stacy began to get nervous.  It was obvious that he was putting the
last touches on their supper.  If he went back to their camp, he would
discover that Scully was missing.  The teenager wandered around the
cavern, wracking her brain for some way of keeping him there.  She brushed
against the collection of shiny baubles he kept on a rock in the corner
and was utterly unprepared for his reaction. 
     Without looking at her, he jumped across the room and, slapping her
out of his way, grabbed the necklace and ring that had fallen to the
ground.  Stacy lay stunned on the ground, looking up at him and gingerly
touching her cut lip.  She backed away from him and stood up, watching him
as he returned to the fire after casting a glowering look her way.  Her
eyes widened in realization.  Subtly, she aligned herself with the jewelry
on the rock directly between her and the door and waited.  After he had
collected the food together on a rock and was in the process of lifting
it, she dashed toward the glittering pile and snatched a large portion of
it; she didn't turn back to see his reaction--she knew she'd be too
terrified to do what she decided must be done.  She threw a couple of
rings over her shoulder and heard him scamper after them as she plunged
into the darkness of the mine. 


               *********************

     Mulder heard movement in the cavern and stopped to listen.  The heavy
footfall stopped at the entrance of their side tunnel and in the weak
light of the fire, Mulder saw the wild-child carrying the unmoving form of
Stacy over his shoulder.  He dumped her unceremoniously at Mulder's feet
and scanned the cavern for Scully.  Mulder watched the rage build in the
man's face and moved to try to protect Stacy from the violence he knew was
coming.  But the blows never came.  The wild-child lifted his face to the
unseen stars above and howled in anger.  Then with a final warning look at
Mulder and Stacy, he ran with animal-grace in pursuit of the missing
agent. 
     Mulder grabbed Stacy by the shoulders and pulled her up toward him. 
Panicking, he searched for a pulse; there it was--slight but steady--under
his fingers.  Making a final push toward the blanket which lay a few feet
away, Mulder managed to snag it and pulled it over the two of them.  Then,
with an eye on the dying fire, he began to pray... 

               ************************

     Scully was at the crest of the mountain when she heard it--the same
animal whoop that she and Mulder had followed up the hill from the cabin. 
Looking behind her, toward the distant mine, she could just make him out
standing in silhouette, the light framing his body.  The lights began to
shoot move around in a search pattern.  He hadn't seen her yet, but it was
only a matter of time.  Looking down toward the cabin, she decided a run
across the open areas would not be successful.  Instead, she headed toward
the tree-line to her right, moving quickly but awkwardly through the snow. 
     She had reached the trees when the lights crested the mountains.  She
didn't slow down, but could see them, out of the corner of her eye,
hovering around the peak.  At the sound of another howl, she looked over
her shoulder to see him standing on top of a large outcropping near the
peak.  The lights began to roam the area in a search for her.  She froze. 
He knew this area better than her; he would find her if she didn't do
something drastic. 
     Checking her pockets, she satisfied herself of the contents and
unzipped the jacket.  Steeling herself, she took a final look at the
wild-child, standing in the mountain moonlight and made a run for the
cabin across the open meadow.  His howl informed her she had been spotted,
and she pushed herself harder.  Moving and breathing heavily in the
snow-silence, she shucked her jacket and left it behind on the snow.  The
lights were beginning to surround her.  She changed directions without
breaking stride, altering her course slightly.  A glance ahead told her
that the edge of the meadow was still over a hundred yards away. 
     Scully pushed on, closing her eyes against the lights that were
converging on her.  She could not hear him, but she knew he was after her. 
She kept running.  When she judged that the edge of the meadow was a few
more feet, she sneaked a peak--it would do no good to come this far and
render herself unconscious by running into a tree.  The trees loomed in
front of Scully like a cliff, and standing between her and their darkness,
was her pursuer.  The lights sparked up behind him, highlighting the anger
written on his face.  Dana shivered as the lights surrounded her. 

          ********************************


     Stacy had not regained consciousness yet, and Mulder began to fear a
head wound.  He could not examine her effectively in the dim light of the
dying embers, so he ran his fingers along her scalp.  There it was, a
goose-egg the size of, well, a goose-egg.  Mulder moved away from her for
a moment to try to stoke up a little more warmth from the quickly
disappearing fire.  Again he heard movement in the main tunnel and pushed
himself protectively in front of Stacy.  A single fireball lighting his
way, the wild-child swung into view; this time, it was Scully's body
draped across his shoulders.  He threw her with great force at Mulder who
reached out for her and rolled with her limp body to try to minimize the
impact.  Their captor favored them with a final look of disgust and
stalked out of the room. 
     In the darkness, Mulder brushed his hand across her face, moving the
hair out of the way and feeling her breath across his fingers.  He sighed
in relief.  Cradling her body against him and trying to ignore the
excruciating pain in his leg, he buried his face in her hair and began to
murmur her name over and over in a desperate rhythm. 
     "I'm sorry, Mulder," her voice as husky as his own.  "I tried..." 
Her voice dropped off and her body relaxed into unconsciousness against
his.  

               ********************************

Other Considerations 

                               A long epilogue

                               by Laura Akers

     
     Scully awoke to the familiar smell of hospital antiseptic. 
Fumbling with the  controls, she brought the hospital bed up to a
sitting position.  Stacy was asleep in the bed next to her, and
Mulder was sitting in the bed opposite her, watching her closely.

He reached for the crutches at the side of his bed and managed to
pull himself to his feet.  She didn't even attempt to hide her
amusement as he hobbled over and perched himself on a corner of
her bed.
     "What did you have to do to get yourself put in the same
room?" she asked, smiling up at him. 
     "He put up a bigger stink than I've ever had the misfortune
to witness," chimed in a nurse entering the room.   "And I
thought we had agreed that you'd stay on your own bed," she
confronted him with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
     Scully waggled her finger at him.  "Bad Mulder.  Naughty
Mulder," she told him in mock reproach.  
     "How about a compromise?"  Mulder motioned toward a
wheelchair on the other side of the room.
     "All right.  But only because I don't want to get into it
with you again."  She moved the wheelchair next to the bed and
helped Mulder into it.  "How do you put up with this man?" she
asked Scully.
     "It's not easy," she agreed, "but he does have *some*
redeeming qualities."  
     He grinned at his partner.  "Ganging up on a poor sick
boy..."
     The nurse gave him a final withering look and disappeared
out of the room, leaving the two talking quietly.
     "What happened, Mulder?  The last thing I remember was
running from Mowgli..."
     "They found your jacket this morning; you'd left the map in
the pocket with the mine clearly marked on it.  Sheriff Chandler
found the mine entrance and had his men search the mine until
they found us."
     "And Mowgli?"
     "They found a camp of sorts in one of the tunnels, along
with some of the  articles missing off the victims."  
     "Did they..."
     "No.  It's been about nine hours since they found us there's
no sign of him yet.  Chandler's men completely swept the
accessible parts of the mine.  He's gone, Scully."
     She was quiet for a moment.  "I guess that's preferable."
     "To what?"
     "To another wild-child lying face down in a pool of blood." 
She looked meaningfully at him.  He took her hand and nodded
mutely.
     Scully glanced over at Stacy lying peacefully in the bed
next to hers.  "How is she?"
     "She lost part of one of her toes.  The doctors said that
she was really lucky not to have lost more.  She has a mild
concussion.  Otherwise, she's doing really well.   I'm sure
she'll be up and chasing boys pretty quickly."
     Scully smiled.  "Chasing you, you mean."  
     "Well, Stacy appears to be rather fickle in her affections,"
Mulder gestured at the roses on the teenager's bedside table. 
"Those are from her 'ex'-boyfriend, and she was making eyes at
one of the interns a couple of hours ago.  I am apparently
yesterday's news," he concluded with a grin.
     
               *******************************

     "Skinner approved this?" Scully whirled on Mulder as he
hobbled toward where she stood in the cabin doorway.
     "Well, officially the only thing he approved was our time
off for recovery," Mulder defended himself.  "But the cabin was
rented for the entire month and, thanks to your foresight,
there's enough food in that fridge to last almost that long.  We
might as well use these resources rather than let them go to
waste.  I mean, our clothes and luggage are still here.  The only
logical thing to do is to rest up here."  He flashed her a
conspiratory smile.
     Scully knew when she was outmatched.   "Slow down or you'll
kill yourself on those crutches," she warned him.  She took off
her coat and set to work on starting a fire.  Mulder trundled in
and, after a brief struggle with the door, collapsed onto the
couch.
     "Can I help?"  
     "No, I've got it."  Scully glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Get comfortable, and I'll get us some lunch in a minute."
     Mulder settled back onto the couch and watched his partner
kneeling on the floor in front of the fireplace.  She moved
quickly and confidently about the task at hand.  Soon she had the
fire going and headed for the kitchen.  His eyes followed her. 
Now that they were safe and warm again, all the things that he
had been trying to ignore were back.  
     He had a decision to make, and he realized that, by bringing
Scully back up here, he had made it.  Now if he could just work
up the courage to start.
     Scully finished up the sandwiches and grabbed plates for the
cupboards and Cokes from the fridge.  She plopped his sandwiches
and soda in front of him on the coffee table and took a spot
opposite him on the couch.
     After a moment, he realized that she was staring at him,
waiting for some kind of response.  He panicked for a moment,
fumbling to find something to say.  "So what do you think
happened to him?"
     "Mowgli?"
     "Yeah.  He hasn't turned up; no one's even been able to
track him.  He can't have just disappeared."
     "I don't think it matters much," she said around a mouthful
of sandwich.  
     "What if he kidnaps more people?"
     "I don't think he will."
     "Why not?"
     "I don't know.  Just a hunch, I guess." 
     "Based on?"
     Scully's brow wrinkled a moment as she tried to sift through
her feelings.  "Why do you think he kidnapped people, Mulder?"
     "He was lonely," Mulder said tentatively.
     "I think so too.  He wanted some human contact."
     "Yeah, but he kept making the same mistake--thinking that
they could survive what was, for him, a normal environment."
     "Exactly.  I don't think he ever meant to hurt them or us. 
He just didn't understand that the rest of us weren't as tough as
him."
     "So why should he stop now?  Do you think he figured out
that we aren't all Tarzans?"
     She shrugged.  "I'm not sure he knows that now, but I don't
think he's going to be too interested in other humans for a long
time."
     "Why?"
     "Until now, he's had his own world, separate from ours.  One
that he controlled.  But when Chandler found the mine and
searched it, our world invaded Mowgli's.  He lost what little
comfort he had--a place that was his, out of the snow and the
wind, where he could light a fire and look at trinkets he had
managed to swipe.  We took that away from him."
     "He did cause the deaths of at least six people, Scully. 
He's not quite the harmless waif that you make him out to be."
     "He didn't kill them; he provided us with everything that he
himself needed to survive.  In his own possessive way, he was
kind.  But I think that's all over now.  I don't think the rest
of humanity will ever see Mowgli again.  I think he's done with
us.  We destroyed his world; why would he ever want contact with
any of us again?"
     Mulder sat back and thought about this for a moment.  "I
think you're right, Scully."  He grabbed Scully cellular of the
table and dialed a number.  Scully smiled as she listened to him
convince Chandler to call off the search for their wild-child.
     "Skinner will have both our butts for this one, Mulder," she
said as he put the phone down.
     "I'll just tell him it was *your* idea," he shot back with a
smile.  

               **********************************

     He had fought her and won but not without concessions.  She
was letting him make dinner on the condition that he did
something simple and he let her help him.  He was thankful in a
way because it meant he could let his attention wander a little. 
The tarot spread that Tabitha had done continued to haunt him. 
He had made his decision and he knew it might change everything
between them.  He hoped that Tabitha's reading had been as true
as it seemed.  The High Priestess that she had chosen as Scully's
signifier gave him hope--it was a card of great power and
reflected, above all, a woman unafraid of anything.  He was
counting on it.
      He proudly set the chicken stir fry bottle of white wine in
front of her.  It took him a moment to get settled into his
chair--a broken leg was a lot more inconvenient than he had ever
imagined.
     He poured the wine and collected himself.  He looked up at
his partner.  Scully looked beautiful in a forest-green sweater
and her hair hanging loose and a little unkempt around her face. 
She picked up her glass and smiled softly at him.  His doubts
vanished.  He reached across table and took her hand.  Her
fingers curved gently, naturally, around his.  
     "Dana, there is something I've wanted to tell you, for a
very long time."




                    The End

=====================================================================
======
Other Considerations                                     End Part 02 of 02.
by Laura Akers                        Broken into pieces by that Archivist.
=====================================================================
======
From: akersl@nevada.edu (LAURA AKERS)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Re: Some Minor Considerations (an epilogue)
Date: 24 Feb 1996 07:37:05 GMT


Okay, this one got cut off so here's another attempt.  Thanks to those 
who wrote me saying they were enjoying the story until it cut off in 
mid-sentence.

               ********************************

     Other Considerations 
       A long epilogue
        by Laura Akers

     
     Scully awoke to the familiar smell of hospital antiseptic. 
Fumbling with the  controls, she brought the hospital bed up to a
sitting position.  Stacy was asleep in the bed next to her, and
Mulder was sitting in the bed opposite her, watching her closely. 
He reached for the crutches at the side of his bed and managed to
pull himself to his feet.  She didn't even attempt to hide her
amusement as he hobbled over and perched himself on a corner of
her bed.
     "What did you have to do to get yourself put in the same
room?" she asked, smiling up at him. 
     "He put up a bigger stink than I've ever had the misfortune
to witness," chimed in a nurse entering the room.   "And I
thought we had agreed that you'd stay on your own bed," she
confronted him with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
     Scully waggled her finger at him.  "Bad Mulder.  Naughty
Mulder," she told him in mock reproach.  
     "How about a compromise?"  Mulder motioned toward a
wheelchair on the other side of the room.
     "All right.  But only because I don't want to get into it
with you again."  She moved the wheelchair next to the bed and
helped Mulder into it.  "How do you put up with this man?" she
asked Scully.
     "It's not easy," she agreed, "but he does have *some*
redeeming qualities."  
     He grinned at his partner.  "Ganging up on a poor sick
boy..."
     The nurse gave him a final withering look and disappeared
out of the room, leaving the two talking quietly.
     "What happened, Mulder?  The last thing I remember was
running from Mowgli..."
     "They found your jacket this morning; you'd left the map in
the pocket with the mine clearly marked on it.  Sheriff Chandler
found the mine entrance and had his men search the mine until
they found us."
     "And Mowgli?"
     "They found a camp of sorts in one of the tunnels, along
with some of the  articles missing off the victims."  
     "Did they..."
     "No.  It's been about nine hours since they found us--
there's no sign of him yet.  Chandler's men completely swept the
accessible parts of the mine.  He's gone, Scully."
     She was quiet for a moment.  "I guess that's preferable."
     "To what?"
     "To another wild-child lying face down in a pool of blood." 
She looked meaningfully at him.  He took her hand and nodded
mutely.
     Scully glanced over at Stacy lying peacefully in the bed
next to hers.  "How is she?"
     "She lost part of one of her toes.  The doctors said that
she was really lucky not to have lost more.  She has a mild
concussion.  Otherwise, she's doing really well.   I'm sure
she'll be up and chasing boys pretty quickly."
     Scully smiled.  "Chasing you, you mean."  
     "Well, Stacy appears to be rather fickle in her affections,"
Mulder gestured at the roses on the teenager's bedside table. 
"Those are from her 'ex'-boyfriend, and she was making eyes at
one of the interns a couple of hours ago.  I am apparently
yesterday's news," he concluded with a grin.
     
               *******************************

     "Skinner approved this?" Scully whirled on Mulder as he
hobbled toward where she stood in the cabin doorway.
     "Well, officially the only thing he approved was our time
off for recovery," Mulder defended himself.  "But the cabin was
rented for the entire month and, thanks to your foresight,
there's enough food in that fridge to last almost that long.  We
might as well use these resources rather than let them go to
waste.  I mean, our clothes and luggage are still here.  The only
logical thing to do is to rest up here."  He flashed her a
conspiratory smile.
     Scully knew when she was outmatched.   "Slow down or you'll
kill yourself on those crutches," she warned him.  She took off
her coat and set to work on starting a fire.  Mulder trundled in
and, after a brief struggle with the door, collapsed onto the
couch.
     "Can I help?"  
     "No, I've got it."  Scully glanced over her shoulder at him. 
"Get comfortable, and I'll get us some lunch in a minute."
     Mulder settled back onto the couch and watched his partner
kneeling on the floor in front of the fireplace.  She moved
quickly and confidently about the task at hand.  Soon she had the
fire going and headed for the kitchen.  His eyes followed her. 
Now that they were safe and warm again, all the things that he
had been trying to ignore were back.  
     He had a decision to make, and he realized that, by bringing
Scully back up here, he had made it.  Now if he could just work
up the courage to start.
     Scully finished up the sandwiches and grabbed plates for the
cupboards and Cokes from the fridge.  She plopped his sandwiches
and soda in front of him on the coffee table and took a spot
opposite him on the couch.
     After a moment, he realized that she was staring at him,
waiting for some kind of response.  He panicked for a moment,
fumbling to find something to say.  "So what do you think
happened to him?"
     "Mowgli?"
     "Yeah.  He hasn't turned up; no one's even been able to
track him.  He can't have just disappeared."
     "I don't think it matters much," she said around a mouthful
of sandwich.  
     "What if he kidnaps more people?"
     "I don't think he will."
     "Why not?"
     "I don't know.  Just a hunch, I guess." 
     "Based on?"
     Scully's brow wrinkled a moment as she tried to sift through
her feelings.  "Why do you think he kidnapped people, Mulder?"
     "He was lonely," Mulder said tentatively.
     "I think so too.  He wanted some human contact."
     "Yeah, but he kept making the same mistake--thinking that
they could survive what was, for him, a normal environment."
     "Exactly.  I don't think he ever meant to hurt them or us. 
He just didn't understand that the rest of us weren't as tough as
him."
     "So why should he stop now?  Do you think he figured out
that we aren't all Tarzans?"
     She shrugged.  "I'm not sure he knows that now, but I don't
think he's going to be too interested in other humans for a long
time."
     "Why?"
     "Until now, he's had his own world, separate from ours.  One
that he controlled.  But when Chandler found the mine and
searched it, our world invaded Mowgli's.  He lost what little
comfort he had--a place that was his, out of the snow and the
wind, where he could light a fire and look at trinkets he had
managed to swipe.  We took that away from him."
     "He did cause the deaths of at least six people, Scully. 
He's not quite the harmless waif that you make him out to be."
     "He didn't kill them; he provided us with everything that he
himself needed to survive.  In his own possessive way, he was
kind.  But I think that's all over now.  I don't think the rest
of humanity will ever see Mowgli again.  I think he's done with
us.  We destroyed his world; why would he ever want contact with
any of us again?"
     Mulder sat back and thought about this for a moment.  "I
think you're right, Scully."  He grabbed Scully cellular of the
table and dialed a number.  Scully smiled as she listened to him
convince Chandler to call off the search for their wild-child.
     "Skinner will have both our butts for this one, Mulder," she
said as he put the phone down.
     "I'll just tell him it was *your* idea," he shot back with a
smile.  

               **********************************

     He had fought her and won but not without concessions.  She
was letting him make dinner on the condition that he did
something simple and he let her help him.  He was thankful in a
way because it meant he could let his attention wander a little. 
The tarot spread that Tabitha had done continued to haunt him. 
He had made his decision and he knew it might change everything
between them.  He hoped that Tabitha's reading had been as true
as it seemed.  The High Priestess that she had chosen as Scully's
signifier gave him hope--it was a card of great power and
reflected, above all, a woman unafraid of anything.  He was
counting on it.
      He proudly set the chicken stir fry and a bottle of white
wine in front of her.  It took him a moment to get settled into
his chair--a broken leg was a lot more inconvenient than he had
ever imagined.
     He poured the wine and collected himself.  He looked up at
his partner.  Scully looked beautiful in a forest-green sweater
and her hair hanging loose and a little unkempt around her face. 
She picked up her glass and smiled softly at him.  His doubts
vanished.  He reached across table and took her hand.  Her
fingers curved gently, naturally, around his.  
     "Dana, there is something I've wanted to tell you, for a
very long time."


                    The End

     Her eyes wavered for a moment and then dropped to the food
in front of her.  For some reason, Mulder's tone set off bells
and whistles in her head.  She pulled her hand away and picked up
her fork to attack her food.
     Mulder watched her retreat from him a bit and hesitated. 
Maybe he should rethink this...  No, he decided, I can't keep
this secret much longer anyways.  And I owe it to her to actually
say it--to be plain and unpressuring about it.  He had spent the
entire afternoon thinking about this, coming slowly to the
realization that, while his love for her might be an obstacle in
their relationship, it would be easier to overcome than the
complications and possible bitterness that keeping it might
engender in him.  And if this case had helped him to see
anything, it was that Scully was all too perceptive.  She might
not figure out what he was hiding, but it was clear that she was
already aware that he was hiding something from her.
     He pulled his chair closer to hers, trying to find some
delicate balance between intimacy and respect for her own space. 
It took him a moment to get adjusted, and then he sat still,
watching Scully go through the motions of eating as the tension
built between them.  He waited for her.
     She could feel his eyes on her, and she wanted to scream in
her frustration.  Whatever it was he had to say to her, his
manner filled her with foreboding...did he want to abandon the X-
files? to hunt down Krychek?  The possibilities for this sudden
seriousness on her partner's part richocheted about in her head
until she could stand it no more.
     She slammed the fork down onto the table and whirled to face
him.  "What is it, Mulder?" she demanded, quietly but intensely.
     He was taken aback by the passion and thinly veiled anger on
her face.  This wasn't how he wanted it to be.  Taking a deep
breath, he raised his hand to her face and ran it down the curve
of her jaw.  His eyes were drawn to her lips, and he realized
that he had moved closer to her in preparation for the kiss he so
desperately wanted.  He pulled back and dropped his hands into
her lap to grasp her own.
     Scully was unprepared for the gentleness of Mulder's
gesture.  Her anger disappeared and all she could do was look
into his eyes.
     "Dana, this is going to be difficult to say, so please let
me get it all out before you tell me what a jackass I am, okay?"
     She nodded and pulled his hands closer to her.  "Whatever it
is, I'm sure we can deal with it together," she told him
confidently.  "And I'd *almost* never call you a jackass."  She
grinned at him.
     Her tone gave him strength.  "Dana, I know that this
is...what I need to tell you...I...damn it...." he began lamely,
trying to remember how he'd phrased it a million times in his
head this afternoon.  She tightened her hold on his hands to
encourage him a little.  He sat up straight and held her eyes
with his own.  "Dana, I love you," he finished, gauging every
movement of her eyes and body for her response.
     She relaxed.  "I know, Mulder, and I love you too," she
replied casually, giving his hands another affectionate squeeze
and smiling warmly up at him.
     The last of his composure broke in the face of her
misunderstanding.  He reached around her and pulled her over, in
one fluid motion, onto his lap, cradling her body as one might a
baby's.  The surprise on her face barely registered as he looked
down at her, using his photographic memory to sear the image of
her in his arms into his mind.  "No," he said, in a tightly
controlled voice.  "Let me make this absolutely clear, Dana."  He
pulled her up toward him, her neck arched in a gesture of
unconscious surrender.  Holding her eyes until the very last
moment, he brought his lips down to hers and kissed her.  
     She was paralyzed in surprise, and Mulder pressed his
advantage a little.  Struggling with himself, he kept the kiss
gentle but insistent, enjoying the softness of her lips and
running his tongue lightly along her bottom lip.  His hand came
up and buried itself in her hair, pulling her closer to him.  He
felt, rather than heard, a low sound in her throat, and felt her
begin to respond, returning the kiss in a far more passionate
manner than he could have hoped for.  He felt her hands flutter
up around his neck, and he reached up to cover her left hand with
his right one, holding it in its place on his neck and savoring
her touch.
     He broke the kiss and noted, in a detached but oddly
triumphant way, that her breathing mirrored his own.  "Dana, I'm
*in love* with you," he finished, relaxing his hold on her and
waiting for the backlash.
     At first, there was no response.  Her eyes were glassy, both
from her shock and from the tears that had come from nowhere and
were now threatening to spill down her cheeks.  His thumb reached
up to catch the first one as it rolled from her eye.  And then it
happened.
     He saw it as clearly as if her thoughts had been broadcast
over a loudspeaker.  One moment, she had been a yielding,
passion-touched lover in his arms, and the next she was Dr. Dana
Scully, a paragon of professionalism.  The wall had gone up
inside her and his chance at happiness had been cut off.
     Her hand came up and grasped his.  The clinical nature of
her touch was shocking.  She gently but firmly removed his hand
from her face and, in one smooth movement, rolled out of his arms
and onto her own feet.  "Mulder, you are *not* in love with me,"
she stated implacably.
     He shook his head a little to clear it from the fog that had
descended on him with the touch of her lips.  "I'm not?" was the
best he could manage.
     "Of course not," she sat down in her chair again.  "I mean,
I'd be flattered if I thought it was true, but the truth is, you
are just confused right now.  You are mistaking feelings which
you do have for me for others which you don't."
     The fog gone, Mulder's mind reacted sharply.  He saw where
this was going and he would have to put a stop to it.  "Are you
insinuating that I feel gratitude toward you, as a physician and
a rescuer, and that I am rewarding you with my "love"?   That I
am having a stereotypical reaction to you being my "angel of
mercy"?"
     "Well, it would be..."
     "No!"  His back stiffened with the force of the words.  "Let
me remind you of some things, Dana.  You have acted as my
physician in an unofficial, and occasionally unwelcome, capacity
for three years   It would be a bit tardy of me to develop the
kind of "gratitude" you are trying to ascribe to me *now.*    And
as far as the other arguments I know you are concocting to
counter what you think are my delusions, they won't work.  Let me
tell you all of it.  If you are going to reject my feelings, it
will not be because I didn't share them but because *you* didn't
accept them."
     "Mulder, I didn't..."
     "Scully, you have been interrupting me for years and will
probably continue to do so for a few more.  But not this time. 
Listen.  And realize that this is not some crackpot theory of
mine that you can dismiss with some rational explanation."
     There was a pause and then she nodded her head at him.
     "Thank you," he said, acknowledging her silence.  "Dana, I
have been falling in love with you for a long time, even if I was
so stupid that I didn't realize it until very recently.  That
first day you walked into my office, I was prepared to hate you,
to show what a moron you were, and send you packing like I have
with quite a few other agents that they've been stupid enough to
send to spy on me.  Then I'm faced with a small, beautiful, red-
haired angel with the mind of Mephistopheles himself   I wasn't
prepared to share my work with a second person, and suddenly I
found myself sharing my life.  I started to fall in love with you
the night you burst into my motel room, scared out of your wits,
sure you had those marks on your back.  When you collapsed in my
arms, I didn't know what to do.  But I knew I never wanted to let
go.  We spent the rest of the night talking and the next morning,
I felt as though we had made love."  Scully raised an eyebrow. 
He pushed on. "I'd never shared myself with anyone the way I did
that night, the way I have these last three years with you.  And
I've never had anyone accept me the way you have."
     "But..." Scully started, but Mulder's look again silenced
her.  
     "I love you, Dana.  You can reject me if you want to, but
you can't change the way I feel."
     She sat there stunned for a minute. Suddenly, the last week
in the cabin had taken on a meaning that she had never suspected.
She looked up at him.  He was serious.  She could see the truth
there in his eyes and wondered why she had never noticed it
before.  And now she couldn't bear to look at it.  It had been a
long time since a man had looked at her with that particular
emotion, and it had never come this unexpectedly.  Her eyes
dropped to the floor.
     He waited for her and tried to keep his emotions under
control.  It took all his training as a psychologist to hold
himself in check.  When her eyes left his, he was sure he had his
answer.
     "Well, I guess the traditional response is out of the
question, and you can't exactly break up with me over this," he
said, mustering some small semblance of a grin.  The grin quickly
disappeared.  "Oh God, Dana, please tell me that you're not going
to leave me.  I mean..."
     She put her hand on his knee and looked up at him.  He tried
not to flinch under her touch, but couldn't stop himself.  She
quickly withdrew her hand.  "Mulder, I'm not going anywhere.  But
this is going to take some time, ya know?  It's not everyday that
your best friend tells you..." she pulled up short, afraid to say
the words.
     "That he loves you," he finished for her.  "We're not going
to get very far if you can't even say the words, Scully."  His
reversion to her last name did not go unnoticed.  "So what do we
do now?"  And with those words, he felt his heart crash into
pieces.  He turned away from her and looked out the window,
determined to spare her this.
     She was quiet for a moment.  Then she stood up and walked
into the living room.  She turned back to look at him, his
hunched shoulders and  his head in his hands.  "Do you *want* to
continue working with me, Mulder?"
     This time it was his eyes that shined with tears, but he
didn't look at her.  "Scully, I don't want to lose you.  I can
try to accept the fact that you don't love me.  But please, don't
leave me."  
     "I don't want to leave you.  But I don't want to hurt you
either.  This is up to you.  I enjoy being your partner and your
friend.  If that's enough for you, then..." She paused.
     He was looking at her and through her simultaneously.  Over
and over, the kiss replayed itself in his mind.  He knew he
hadn't imagined her response.  It had been clear.  For that
instant, she had returned at least some portion of his feelings
for her.  That moment was a chink in the wall separating them,
and he knew it.  But he knew that he could never press her on
that point--her self-control was important to her and pointing
out a lapse would not win her over.  But even if he could not use
that moment to get her to open herself up to the possibility of
loving him in return, he could still take heart from it. 
     He had surprised her, declaring his love when it was the
last thing she could have expected.  Now he had to back off and
let her come to accept his love.  Maybe someday, she would grow
to love him in return.  He pulled himself together a little. 
"Scully, I can't change the way I feel.  You know that."  She
nodded.  "And I can't pretend anymore that I don't love you.  And
I'm not giving up all hope on this subject."  He grinned.  
     "Planning on seducing me?" she said, returning his grin.
     He thought about it for a minute.  "Yes and no," he said. 
"I'm not going to jump you some night on a stakeout, if that's
what you mean.  I'll even promise to stop touching you
altogether, if my revelation has made that an uncomfortable
prospect.  It's your heart I want.  Your body, as beautiful as it
is, is of secondary importance to me." He looked up at her and
her breath caught in her throat at the smoldering expression in
his eyes. 
     "There are other ways to seduce women, Scully."  He let the
words hang between them.  Suddenly she had no doubt in her mind
about her partner's powers of seduction.  Her body betrayed her a
second time as the warm flush passed through her, provoked by his
tone, his words, and his gaze.  "I know that, with a few
exceptions, you have come to think of me as your brilliant but
romance-less and sexless partner."  Again he grinned.  "Unless
you tell me not to, I will prove to you just how misled your
assumptions are."
     She couldn't resist the temptation.  "On all three
accounts?"  She smiled at him and came back to sit down at the
table.  
     He smiled.  "Hell, Scully, I gotta get you to believe in
*something!*  If it takes me a few years, at least it'll give me
something to do while *you* fill out the field reports.  So until
then," he said, picking up her fork and skewering a bite of
chicken, "I'll have my work cut out for me, won't I?"  He brought
the food to her lips.
     "I'm no push-over, Mulder," she replied, and took the bite
from the fork with a smile.
     We'll see, Dana Katherine Scully, he thought to himself. 
I've been pursuing the Truth for two decades, and I'm prepared to
pursue you, my love, even longer.