From: "Diana Alexander" <di_mulder@hotmail.com>
Date: Mon, 27 Apr 1998 07:23:27 PDT
Subject: Trial By Fire (0/2) by Diana Alexander


Disclaimer:  The characters from the television
show, "The X-Files" used in this story are the
property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and
Fox Broadcasting.  No infringement is intended.
All other characters and the coffee shop called
"Arrow's Crossing" are the property of the
author, Diana Alexander.

Rating: PG-13 cause of language.  Hey, don't look
at me!  Starr and Alex are the ones with the
filthy mouths on them!

Classification: SXR

Spoilers: Fire

Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST; Krycek/other UST

Timeline:  takes place Post-Kitsunegari and
after "Valentine by Candlelight" in the Shoulder
To Cry On universe (currently unfinished, but
I promise to have it out soon.)

Summary:  During a meeting of self-discovery and
an attempt for Storm to recapture her lost
memories, the Project goes after her so they
might brainwash her again.  They send Alex
Krycek, who manages to grab the wrong sister.
Alex, Alex, Alex, when are you *ever* going to
learn? *grin*

Author's Notes:  This is basically a setup story
that deals more with Storm & her family than
Mulder and Scully.  Sorry, y'all.  I promise I'
ll do better next time.  Oh, and before I
forget, I extend lotsa thanks to Christina, who
put up with me while I was writing this, and
tossed in some of the little tidbits in it.
Now, before I get into more trouble... on with
the story! :D

*    *    *    *    *
Trial by Fire (0/2)
By: Diana Alexander
(di_mulder@hotmail.com)
*    *    *    *    *

*    *    *    *    *
Trial by Fire (1/2)
By: Diana Alexander
(di_mulder@hotmail.com)
*    *    *    *    *

The man looked at his American friend with a
frown.  Shannon Austin had requested this meeting
in the first place in order to see if he could be
hypnotized.  It seemed to have worked, so he
started asking questions. "Okay, lad, what do ye
see?"

"Nothing," he spoke with distinct Scottish accent
a scowl crossing his face and his eyebrows
drawing together as he tried to put a name to
what he was sensing.  "But there's this thick,
cloying scent.  It smells like honeysuckle..."

"Shannon, where are you?  Was it here or some
place else?"

"Not here," his voice answered with certainty
before trailing off as he thought. "We left here
to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousins still living
in America."

"What else do you remember?"

"Storma," a smile crossed his face as he
mentioned her name, and the image of a three year
old imp of a girl who sprinted across the space
between her twin sister and her older brother
while he watched on with affection filled his
mind. "She was so cute..."

A certain knowledge that Storm Austin would slap
him senseless if she heard him call her cute
filled his mind along with an electrical
awareness that danced through his mind before
slipping down his spinal column, leaving a chill
in its wake.  Inwardly, he smiled with a certain
triumph, since that connection brought with it
the solution for one of the problems that had
been plaguing him when he decided to take two
months leave from the DEA.  He had flown to
Scotland to see his psychologist friend, James
Wilmont.

He had been having Dreams for two months.  Dreams
he could not explain.  They were of fire and fear
and a woman that he felt a connection to in an
almost sisterly way.  The not-knowing added to
everything else going on had slowly driven him
crazy until he finally turned to James for help.
His eyes slowly flickered open, amusement echoing
within their sapphire depths.

"Shannon!" James shook his head in amusement at
his old friend's habit of finishing the
regression before it was time. "I thought I put
you all the way under this time."

"No, I'm afraid not," Shannon responded with a
half-grin as he ran his hands through his short
brown hair. "Actually, Jay, I'm not quite sure
that's possible."

"What do you mean, 'I'm not quite sure that's
possible'?"

"Well, I've never gone all the way under any time
anyone hypnotized me," Shannon shrugged. "I guess
it's some kind of defense mechanism or
something."

"So, did you find out what you needed to know?"

"Yes, James.  Yes I did," he said with
determination, glancing down at his watch. "And
if you will excuse me, I have a plane to catch."

"Oh, certainly," James shook Shannon's hand.
"Catch you at some later time, hopefully under
better conditions?"

"Aye," Shannon grinned. "Definitely under better
conditions."

As he walked out of the office, he pulled out his
cel phone and dialed a long distance number.  An
efficient female voice answered the phone, "Drug
Enforcement Agency, Atlanta Office, Erin
McMichael speaking."

"Erin, my darlin'..."

"Oh, it's you," her tone changed to one of mock
disgust. "What do you want *now*, Shan?"

"I need some help, Erin," he sent her a flash of
his pouting expression, and heard a snort of
laughter in response.

"What now, Shannon?  Y'know the Boss doesn't want
me helping you, since you took that no-warning
vacation, after all."

"I couldn't help it, Erin," he whined. "I figured
he would rather be take a vacation than to have a
true lunatic on his hands."

"He does anyway," she quipped, then sighed.
"You're probably right, Shan.  What do you need?"

"Y'know that flight I'm supposed to take back to
Atlanta in about two hours?"

"I should," she snapped lightly at him. "I'm the
one who arranged it.  Why?"

"I need it changed from Hartsfield to Dulles."

"Shan, what are you into now?"

"I'm locating some family that I think might be
in danger." 'Eventually,' he added silently,
although he got the feeling that Erin had heard
the thought.

"Mmhmm," was Erin's only comment as he heard
the clatter of keys in the background. "I know
how that goes with you, Shannon, and besides, I'm
the only one open-minded enough to receive what
you send.  I'm glad those are all innocent
images, by the way."

A disgusted look crossed his face, "Why would
those images be anything other than innocent,
Erin?  You know I love you as a sister, right?"

"Yeah, and I've heard that line before from other
men who didn't act like they were my brother."

"But I--" he was cut off by her soft laughter.

"I'm baiting you, Shan," she teased. "Anyway,
your flight has been changed.  Only one thing
though..."

"What's that?"

"You only have 35 minutes to get to the airport."

"Oh, shit, I gotta go then."

"Best of luck on this mission of yours, Shan.
I'll be thinking of you."

"Thanks, Erin, you're a godsend."

"Your welcome," he could hear her smile through
the phone, then she asked in a mischievous
tone, "Shan?"

"Yeah?" he asked back warily.  He knew
something was coming.

"Which god sent me?" she asked, laughing, and
Shannon shook his head in response.

"I don't think I'll answer that.  Yet." he
responded as he disconnected.

'As for which god... I think Erin McMichael was
sent from the gods of mischief,' Shannon thought
as he climbed into his car and headed in the
direction of the airport.

Finally, he was sitting on the plane, waiting for
it to take off.  After finding a parking space
for James' other car, exchanging his ticket, and
finding his seat, he barely made it in time.  A
flight attendant walked by, and he requested a
cup of coffee.

Something gave him the feeling he was going to
need lots of caffeine, and possibly some Advil in
order to get through this flight with his wit and
sanity intact.

*    *    *    *    *

Storm Austin knew it was going to be a bad day
from the moment she landed on the cold floor as
her alarm clock continued to buzz annoyingly.
Despite the fact that the feeling of hard wood
floor beneath bare legs had a habit of waking a
person up quite fast, it wasn't the way she would
have chosen to start the day.

'It was a good thing Matt's still asleep out in
Nevada or wherever he is,' she thought to
herself. 'Else he might be laughing at me right
now.'

Spearing a hand through her long blonde hair,
Storm slowly rose from the floor, moaning about
aching muscles left over from the soccer game she
was called into over the weekend.  'This has to
be a Monday,' she thought to herself as she
headed into the bathroom to take her morning
shower. 'No other day of the week would feel this
damn bad.'

Some thirty minutes later, as she was running her
hands through her hip-length blonde mane, trying
to tame it into something that could be braided
in her normal fashion, she heard her own
answering machine message:  "Hello, this is Storm
Austin.  I'm is off getting into trouble right
now, but if you'll leave a message, I promise to
try and contact you when I get back."

The instant the voice came through the answering
machine, Storm felt the hairs on the back of her
neck stand straight up as an image flashed
through her mind.

*    *    *    *    *

A man sat on a rock, looking down at her.  Storm
stared at him with her hands on her hips as he
spoke, "Y'know what they say about sheep here,
don't ye?"

"I don't want to know, Shay.  I'm sure it's
something that would be too much for my virginal
mind to handle."

"You and virginal are two mutually exclusive
terms, Storm," he said, then looked at her
thoughtfully. "Y'know, you'd look mighty cute in
a kilt."

"Cute?  Did I just hear that word leave your
lips, Shannon Austin?"

"Mmhmm," her cousin looked totally unashamed.

"Okay, since you're so insistant on this, when do
I get my kilt?"

"Well, we're about to go into town, and we could
get you one there."

"Good, and while we're there, we can get you one
as well."

"What?"

"Well, I have to get even with you somehow,
Shay.  After all, I think *you* would look
mighty *cute* in a kilt as well," Storm said
defiantly, emphasizing the word cute.

"Oh, no, you don't."

Storm just smiled enigmatically in response.

*    *    *    *    *

When Storm returned to present times, she heard a
chiding voice echoing through the apartment. "Oh,
c'mon, Storma, please tell me ye remember me a
li'l."

Storm ran out of the bathroom and to the phone,
lifting it from the base and cringing at the
whining sound that the machine emitted. "Shay?"

She could nearly see his smile, "So ye do
remember me, then.  I'm glad of that because..."
his voice faltered, then he continued. "Well,
Storm, I really gotta tell you that I sure
as hell didn't remember you for a while, but had
these weird dreams concerning a woman that I
knew, yet didn't know.  After I talked to a
shrink, I finally figured out it was you, flew to
Dulles, and looked up your number.  You really
shouldn't have it listed, Storma; it's
dangerous."

"If that telephone number makes me a target, then
the rest of the family that I don't know about
won't get hurt, Shay.  And for your information,
until a moment ago, I didn't remember you either.
You were probably the one who flashed that image
into my mind, weren't you?"

"Some members of the family aren't worth the
protection you give them," Shay answered as
enigmatically as Storm's best friend, Dana
Scully. "Anyway, there's a lot more to tell than
what I care to reveal over the phone.  Is there
anywhere we can meet and talk safely."

Storm scowled slightly as she thought.  "There's
this coffee shop I go to sometimes that's owned
by a trusted friend.  It's about fifteen minutes
southeast of Dulles International, and it's
called Arrow's Crossing."

"I'll meet you there." With that, Storm and Shay
hung up the phone by mutual consent, and she
rushed into her bedroom and pulled out her
leather boots, a pair of worn blue jeans, and a
baggy sweatshirt to wear instead of the clothes
she had laid out to wear to the office.  After
getting dressed, she put her hair up in a braid,
scrawled a note to Dana, since Storm knew her
friend would be worried, picked up the leather
jacket sitting on the couch, and headed out the
door, locking it behind her.

On her way out of the apartment building, Storm
did not notice the woman lurking in the shadows.

*    *    *    *    *

CIA Agent Starr Austin smirked as the woman she
knew to be her twin sister slipped past her
without a word.  It had been bad enough when the
people who thought they were her superiors had
discovered that Storm knew there was a tap on her
phone and had removed it and placed it on a
neighbor's phone so all the Project Wiretappers
heard was girlish giggles and gossip about
whether two friends had slept together yet or
not.  'So much for the world of high technology,'
Starr thought with a snicker. 'All it takes is
one paranoid telekinetic to shatter their perfect
illusions.'

Pulling out her lock picking kit, Starr moved to
the door of the apartment with a smile.  With her
hair tucked up into the bun that her mirror image
was apparently so fond of wearing for work,
nobody would think anything of her trying to find
the right "key" for the door.  She hummed
tunelessly as she shifted through the keys on the
too-large keyring with the slogan "I'm PMS and I
have a gun.  Any questions?" on it.

Slipping inside the apartment, Starr looked
around for a place to start.  A scrap of paper
laying on top of the phone caught her eye and she
slipped on her tight black leather gloves before
lifting the paper from the phone.  It was a note
to Storm's best friend from childhood, Dana
Scully, explaining that there was some business
she had to attend to.  Slipping off one glove,
Starr pulled a little trick she had learned from
an old friend,  lighting the tip of her finger
aflame painlessly..  After setting the slip of
paper on fire, she blew out the tip of her
finger, and slid the glove back on.

With a satisfied smile, Starr inhaled the scent
of smoke that started to fill the apartment.
'Ah, smoke without a fire.  That's the best
kind.'  Then she headed into the bedroom.  There
was something she was looking for.

*    *    *    *    *

"Mulder?" Dana Scully looked up at her partner as
he walked in.

"What is it, Scully," Mulder rubbed at his eyes.
They had both just come off a Violent Crimes
consult and were still dealing with the resulting
insomnia that was an aftermath.  Every time he
did one of these consults, it got harder and
harder to deal with.  There was the temptation to
tell Scully to just end it all; to kill him or
lock him up in a mental institution, since every
time he did a profile on a serial murderer, it
drove him closer to the edge of the thin line
between sanity and insanity.

"Have you heard from Storm today at all?
Normally, she'd have called, but..." Scully
looked at her partner with a helpless look.

He smiled at her. "Why don't you drop by her
apartment and see why she's not here.  I'll cover
you, Scully."

"Mulder, is something wrong?"

"I can't sleep," he buried his head in his hands.
"I keep seeing all the deaths over and over."

"Mulder, it's *over*," Scully crossed the room to
him, and rubbed his shoulders lightly. "He's been
electrocuted already."

"If that's true, then why does this all keep
coming back to haunt me, Scully?" Mulder laid his
head down on the desk, so his question to her was
muffled. "Why do I feel like I should have done
something more?"

"Because you're human," Scully said to him as she
placed a light kiss on the back of his neck and
stifled a giggle as the hair on the back of his
neck stood up. "You care just a little more than
everyone else, and you suffer when you're
helpless to stop things that are beyond your
control.  Mulder, let it *go*."

"I don't know if I can, Scully," Mulder sighed,
"but I'll try.  Get back soon, okay?"

"I will," Scully promised as she pulled her purse
out of a drawer of her desk. "If it takes longer
than I think it should, I'll call, okay?"

"Thanks, Scully.  I don't know how you put up
with me sometimes."

"The best way I can, Mulder," a smile tugged at
her lips as she slid out the door. "The best way
I can."

*    *    *    *    *

Alex Krycek walked from the room with a frown.
He was sick and fucking tired of being called by
that cigarette-smoking son of a bitch every time
he needed someone killed.  You'd think that with
all the power this Consortium apparently wielded,
they could afford more than two or three hired
killers.

Well, besides him and Starr anyway.  Luis
Cardinal had been killed a year before-hand, and
apparently, They had never found anyone else.
Well, it wasn't like everyone knew everyone else
in this organization.  For all he knew, the Group
had a thousand hired assassins.

But if that was true, then why was he and Starr
always sent out to kill *somebody* every time he
turned around.  He wasn't even the best assassin,
since on one of his attempts, he didn't even kill
the person he was supposed to kill.  He had
killed her sister, who didn't look anything like
her, instead.

Maybe it was Starr, then.  Alex's lips twitched
as he stifled a smirk.  During the past several
assignments, he and Agent Austin had gotten
rather cozy.  She had told him that she wouldn't
mind getting into some kind of relationship with
him, even one that went beyond professional.
Actually, her precise words were: "Alex, don't
get me wrong.  I'd love to have sex with you, but
I don't like receiving phone calls from some
Consortium asshole telling me that it's time
for work just when things are reaching a climax,
if you get my meaning."  He had understood
perfectly well what she was trying to tell him.

He sighed, then.  If Starr wasn't a born
seductress, then she was at least a rather
talented one. After putting those thoughts
aside, Krycek looked up, he noticed that he had
arrived at his destination and pulled out the
police baton he had picked up at a second hand
store in Annapolis, where he normally lived.

Slipping up the stairs to the fifth floor, where
Storm lived, he smirked as he saw her walking out
of the apartment, shoving what looked like a
chain in her pocket.  Just as he reached her to
whack her upside the head with the baton, she
spun and kicked him in the groin.  As both hits
connected, they hit the ground.  He was groaning
and she was moaning.  Later, they would look on
this botched attempt with humour, but all they
felt now was pain.

"Alex, you bastard..." Starr groaned as she
rubbed the back of her head.  "I've probably got
a goddamn concussion thanks to you.  What the
fuck did you think you were doing?"

"My job, Starr.  I was sent by that Cigarette
Smoking Son-of-a-Bitch to knock that sister of
yours out and drag her back to the Project to be
reprogrammed," Alex groaned himself as he
answered her, then snorted. "Oh, like that would
work anyway."

"Yeah, really.  All of the Austin clan has a
certain trait of stubbornness, and from what I
hear, Storm is the worst.  I suspect that I know
more about her than she does about me.  There are
advantages to working in the CIA, after all."

"Hell, what were *you* doing here?"

"*My* job.  You were supposed to knock her out
and take her in or kill her, and I was supposed
to make things inside look like there was a
struggle or something.  Y'know, totally rip up
her apartment.  However," a slow smile crossed
her face, "I found something that will help me
get rid of her once and for all."

"What's your beef with her, anyway?"

"It's too complex to explain here.  Are you up to
walking yet, Alex?  I think we should get out of
here as soon as humanly possible.  If I figured
things right, Storm's dear childhood friend
Dana--" Starr's voice dripped with sarcasm,
"--will be on her way here soon, and I'd rather
not be caught in your company while somebody
thinks I'm Storm."

"Yea, I'm fine," Krycek pulled himself to his
feet. "However, I think I'll be taking it rather
slowly."

"Agreed."

They leaned on each other long enough to get
back to Alex's car and drove back to a motel
room he had rented when he found out about that
job and secluded themselves away.

Starr sighed and kicked back on the bed while
Alex flopped down in the one chair.  There was a
laptop set up on the desk that belonged to her,
and it was still running.  Her head started to
throb dully and she sighed, pressing a hand
against the bump that Alex's attack with the
baton had left.

The touch reverberated a shockwave of pain
through her head and she cringed.  When she
brought her hand back around to look at it, it
was red with blood.  Her blood.  A chill ran
down her spine, and she called out, "Alex?"

"What is it, Starr?"

She held her hand up, palm facing away from her
face as explaination.

Alex frowned at her, "Do you think you bled back
there in the hallway?"

"I think it's pretty damned likely.  However, we
can use this to our advantage, you know."

"We can?  How?"

"Set the laptop and phone up over here, and I'll
show you.  You're so slow, Alex dear."

"Am I really?" he asked dryly, but did as she
asked.  Within five minutes, everything was set
up, and Starr shifted before she opened the
laptop's phone.  It dialed 911 and she typed in
what she wanted to convey to the person on the
other end.  With a smirk, she then hung up the
phone and turned to face Alex.

"It's done.  Now all we do is wait."

*    *    *    *    *

Storm approached the coffee shop, looking around
for someone who felt familiar, even if she didn't
recognize him at first.  Suddenly, someone tapped
on her shoulder and she whirled to face him, then
frowned. "Mulder, what are you--"

"Damn, not you too, Storm," the man sighed, his
Scottish accent becoming apparent with each word
he spoke. "Every time someone has spoken to me in
this city, they've mistaken me for somebody named
Fox Mulder.  I almost got into a fight over it."

"Shay?"

"Aye, it's me," the man ran his fingers through
his dark brown hair. "Who is this Fox Mulder
character, anyway?"

"Um, he's a man I work with, Shay.  My best
friend is in love with him.  He's a FBI agent who
works in the area of the paranormal.  He's made a
lot of enemies... and allies."

Shannon frowned, as he tried to remember, "Your
best friend.  That would be... Dana?  Dana
Scully?"

"Yeah, she's his partner."

"In more ways than one, eh?" Shannon waggled his
eyebrows and Storm slapped him across the arm.

"Behave yourself, Shannon Austin.  That's their
business, not mine."

"Storm, you've always been an incorrigible
matchmaker.  Are you trying to tell me that
you're not trying to get them together faster
than they would have gotten together on their
own?"

"No comment, Shannon," Storm attempted to look
extremely innocent, and Shay laughed at her.

"Now, Storma, you know and I know that you tried
to pull that on me years ago, and it didn't work
then..."

"No, I don't know.  I don't remember some stuff,
Shay."

"Aye, me either, but there are some things you
don't forget."

Storm groaned, "What do you say we go in and get
some coffee?  At least we can be sitting down
while we talk."

"Sounds good to me," Shay opened the door and
walked inside the coffee shop, and Storm covered
her eyes as Kenneth Ashbury, the owner of Arrow's
Crossing, pointed a gun at Shay.  When she opened
her eyes, Storm had to stifle a giggle at the
look on Shay's face.

She called out, "Ken, it's all right.  Shay's my
cousin.  He's with me."

"I don't know why I provide a sanctuary for you
people.  It's nothing but trouble," the man
muttered under his breath as he set the rifle
down next to the cash register again.

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Storm arched an
eyebrow at her friend, and a smile cracked his
face.

"No, Trouble, I was not talking to you.  You're
lucky I let you hang here.  There are a lot of
people who are after you, y'know, and wouldn't
think twice about taking a guy like me out in
order to get to you.  I'm only thirty, Storm, and
believe me when I tell you that I'm too young to
die because of something stupid."

"Aww, c'mon, Kenneth," Storm jumped up on the
counter and leaned toward him, "y'know you
wouldn't have it any other way.  You love having
someone to watch over."

"Yeah, yeah... you didn't hear it from me.  Now
get your crazy ass off my counter."

"Of course I didn't hear it from you," Storm
hopped down off the counter, and guided her
cousin to one of the booths in the back.

"So, Storm..."

"Yeah, Shay?"

"Who is that guy?  A lover?"

"No."

"Ex-lover?"

"No."

"Trouble?" Shannon grinned teasingly at her.

Storm barely stifled a grin of her own and a
laugh before answering, "No, Shay, that's me."

"Okay then, is he a friend?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call him that."

"Y'know, Storm, you have some dangerous friends."

"That I do," Storm ordered a french vanilla
cappuchino, and Shay ordered a cup of strong
black coffee.  She grimaced at him, "How can you
stand to drink that bitter stuff?"

"How can *you* stand to drink that sweet stuff?"

Storm grinned, "To each our own, I guess.  So
Shay, what do you do?"

"Well, I'm on vacation," he grinned. "I'm an
agent at the Atlanta office of the DEA.  I
probably should leave, since that's where I met
Cassandra, and now that she's gone, I'm lost."

"Cassy?" Storm actually remembered the woman
Shay was engaged to, vaguely, and frowned.
Cassandra Arrington had been tall, with long
black hair and flashing green eyes.  The woman
had been an example of life incarnate.  That's
what worried her. "What happened, Shay?  Did she
die?"

"No, that's the thing.  Nobody really knows.  All
they know is that she disappeared about a year
ago and nobody knows what happened to her.  I
took it hard, Storma.  We were supposed to get
married the weekend that she disappeared.  For
over eleven months, I searched for her, and found
nothing.  Then one day, I walked into the office
and told my boss that I was taking a vacation and
flew home."

"Scotland?"

"Yeah..."

"What happened?  Why?" Storm frowned, concerned.
What vague memories she held of her cousin told
her that he wasn't a man to run off on a whim,
unlike the person he looked like.  Storm had lost
count of the number of times that Mulder had run
off on a whim and left Dana behind.

"I was having Dreams again, Storm.  It was a
relief not to have to relive those painful
memories of me and Cassy, but it still bothered
me badly.  I didn't know who I was seeing in the
vision, and I knew that the person was familiar
to me.  I went to see a friend and got regressed.
It was you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I think you're in danger, Storm.  After
all, I did find out about Starr."

"Who's Starr?"

"My other cousin. Your twin," Shannon pulled some
papers and pictures out of his back pocket and
slid them across the table to her.  Storm looked
down at the pictures, which had a woman in a
typical haughty pose, her blond hair hanging to
her chin, hands on her hips.

"That's her?"

"Starr Alexandria Austin, yes.  She was the
Project's prize subject.  The only one of all of
us that turned out exactly like they wanted.
She's a top agent in the CIA, can move around the
country unseen and unnoticed.  A top telepath,
pyrokinetic, and telekinetic.  She has the abilty
to disguise her presense, and she's often been
seen working with one Alex Krycek."

"Krycek," Storm spat out. "The man who killed
Melissa."

"Among others.  They used him and Starr as their
hit squad.  Storm, how does it feel to know that
your flesh and blood is a hired assassin who is
probably after you, not only for that, but for
her own reasons."

"It gives me the shakes."

"Yeah, me too."

"Why is she after me, Shay?" Storm sipped at her
cappuchino, grateful for the slight twinge of
alcohol in it. "I've never met her, I've never
done anything *to* her.  It just doesn't make
sense."

"In Starr's twisted logic, you've got the world
wrapped around your finger.  You have a lifebond,
friends who care about you, a job that you enjoy,
a pastime that you have fun with.  She wants to
take it all away from you."

Storm pushed most of the profile that Shay just
presented to her to the back of her mind to
contemplate later, but one thing kept working
it's way back, so finally she asked, "Pastime?"

"Storm, come on.  The fact that you're on a
Weekend Warrior Soccer Team is on record.  I
checked it out, too.  Downloaded it from the
internet while I was on the plane to help fill
in the blanks in my memory.  I'm just like you,
in some ways.  I hate these blanks.  I want to
know what happened.  We're going to have to help
each other."

"Okay," Storm sighed, pressing her hands to her
temples. "Where do we start?"

"At the beginning."

*    *    *    *    *

-End of Part 1/2-

*    *    *    *    *
Trial by Fire (2/2)
By: Diana Alexander
(di_mulder@hotmail.com)
*    *    *    *    *

When Dana arrived at her apartment building
thirty to fourty-five minutes later, she found
utter chaos. There were police, ambulances, and
fire trucks surrounding the entire place.  She
reached for her badge as she noticed the yellow
tape surrounding everything.  With a sigh, she
got out of her car and approached the guy
standing guard to keep people out.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but only authorized personell
are allowed--"

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully from the FBI, and
I live here.  I'm concerned because a friend of
mine turned up missing today.  She didn't show
up for work," she gave him a look that tried to
express her concern, and he raised the yellow
tape and walked with her to the fifth floor.

"Well, Agent Scully, we found what resembles a
break-in.  Everything flung everywhere.  There's
really no way to tell if anything was taken, even
if we could find the resident."

"What?  Is she not here?"

"It looks like she might have caught the person
in the act.  There's a baton left laying on the
ground near the apartment door, and there's
blood on the floor."

"A lot of blood?" Scully frowned.

"Not an excessive amount, but enough to question
the circumstances in which it got there," the man
sighed. "Truthfully, we think she might have been
knocked out and possibly dumped in the ocean.
We're not sure, though.  We're not even sure it
was the resident.  Although we have people
looking into it, you might want to check that
out yourself if you know the person living here."

"Oh, I will," Scully turned away and pulled out
her cel phone.

Mulder answered on the first ring, "Mulder."

"Mulder, pardon me for quoting Shakesphere, but
there's something wrong in the state of Denmark."

"Or in D.C." he responded. "What happened?  I
assume something happened to Storm?"

"How would you figure that, Mulder?" she asked
him with a mild touch of sarcasm in her voice.

"Well it's not every day my sexy and beautiful
partner turns me on by quoting Shakesphere," he
teased her.

"Oh, my quoting of Shakesphere turns you on?"
Scully asked him with an arched eyebrow. "I'll
have to remember that."

"So, what's happened to Storm?"

"They're not sure if she caught the person in
the act or something else happened and this is
someone else's blood drying in the hallway, so
they suspected she might be somewhere else, and
that I might want to check Storm's hangouts."

"Arrow's Crossing."

"What?"

"She took me there once.  Homey atmosphere once
you get past the owner who has a rifle sitting in
plain sight and is not afraid to use it.  Storm
took me there when she was explaining our
Valentine's Day game plan with me."

"So that was your version of a game plan, eh,
Mulder?" Scully asked with a smile.

"Yeah... Hey, Scully, why don't you come on back
to the office.  I'll call Arrow's Crossing and
see if Storm is there, and then if she is, or if
she isn't, then we can plan what to do next."

"All right, Mulder, I'm on my way back," Scully
hung up her cel phone, glanced back at the
people investigating the break-in, and headed
back towards her car.  Once there, she prayed
that Storm was all right, and headed back to the
office.

*    *    *    *    *

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how I met Matt," Storm
laughed, now on her third cup of the french
vanilla cappuchino.

Shannon laughed, spearing a hand through his
thick brown hair, "So, why don't you tell me?  I
wasn't in the country to witness this."

"Well, the first time we met, I had been in my
first mud-soccer battle with Mel and Crystal, and
a couple of other people.  Then, in the middle of
an argument with Melissa, I felt someone watching
me, and I looked up.  Here I was, covered in mud,
and I was looking at the person who I would love
my entire life.  When I realized what I looked
like, I ran home as fast as my legs would carry
me and jumped in the shower.  I thought I was
going to die of embarrassment.  Can you die of
embarrassment?"

"You can come pretty close, and that seems to
take the cake.  What happened next?"

"About a day or so later, Charlie Scully was
worrying about who he was going to take to his
prom.  I volunteered."

"Uh-oh..." Shay's grin was teasing.

"It's not what you think.  He was a friend, and I
was considered a member of the family by that
point.  I was doing all of them a favor.  Of
course, it only made Bill more mad at me, but..."
Storm sighed.

"Bill Scully is a very angry man," Shannon
responded. "There is nothing you, Dana, or Mel
could have done would have changed that.  That's
just the way it is.  So, how did the prom go?"

"Oh, it was great.  I didn't go home with
Charlie, though."

Shannon's eyebrows arched into his hair, but he
said nothing.

"It turned out that one Matthew Night had brought
a friend's sister to the prom with him.
Matthew's date and Charlie had a crush on each
other, it turned out, and so they left together.
They're happily married with two children now, by
the way."

"What about you and Matthew?"

"We just looked at each other, and laughed.  He
took me out to a local pizza place and we talked
until the place closed.  You know where me and
Matthew are today," Storm smiled, and
unconsciously reached for the chain.  Only then
did she notice it missing, and she closed her
eyes. "Oh, no..."

"What?  What is it?"

"Matt gave me this chain, and I always wear it.
I forgot it this morning.  Matt's not a strong
mindspeaker, but we had rigged these ring and
chain sets that helped--"

"Austin, do you know a Mulder!?" Ken's voice
could be heard clear across the room.

"Mulder..." Storm groaned. "I knew I never
should have brought him here.  I knew he'd find
me the next time I wanted to go into hiding."

"Well, do ye want to talk to this man?"

"I'll talk to him.  Gimme the phone."

Ken walked over and dropped the cordless phone
into her hand, and she pressed it to her ear,
"Hello, Mulder," Storm spoke into the phone.

"Storm, where the hell are you?" Mulder asked
her, sounding more than a little rough around the
edges.  She frowned.

"Mulder, when was the last time you slept?"

"The night before Scully and I started this past
investigation," Mulder explained with a wry
expression that was nearly visible through the
phone.

"I thought you knew better than that, Mulder.
Dana worries so much... you know she'd let you
sleep with her if it made you feel any better.
It's not the first time you two have done that,
y'know."

"I know.  I just got all wrapped up in the case
and didn't think about it."

"I'm not in the least bit surprised, Mulder, even
though I don't know you as well as Dana does.
Speaking of her, does she know about this?"

"Yeah, I told her.  Somehow I think that I'll be
sleeping at her place tonight.  She'll insist."

"And Dana can be quite stubborn when she insists
on something," Storm smiled before continuing.
"So, Mulder, what's going on that's so important?
I'm sorry I didn't call this morning, but I left
a note for Dana.  I got an abrupt call from a
cousin who dropped out of nowhere, and we were
having a conversation over a couple of cups of
coffee..."

"Normally, Storm, I would have left you the hell
alone, but when Scully dropped by your apartment
to check on you, there was evidence that you
might not have been still among the living.
Thought I'd check and make sure."

"What happened?"

"Your apartment has been broken into and they
found blood outside.  It's still being analyzed,
but they thought it was yours."

"Oh, gods..." Storm's had already begun to pick
up Shannon's accent, and the person responsible
quirked a smile at her. "Someone broke into my
bloody apartment?"

Storm could almost see Mulder's smirk as he
responded, "Storm, I think you've seen Braveheart
too many times.  You're starting to sound like a
Scottish person."

"Well, Mulder, I am Scottish."

"What?"

"Well," Storm amended with a self-conscious
smile, "half-Scottish."

Mulder shook his head, "Whatever, Storm.  Listen,
we're coming over there as soon as Scully gets
back to the office.  We have to talk."

"Aye," Storm murmured under her breath. "More
than you know... I'll be sure to tell Ken not to
shoot you and Dana the instant you walk through
the door."

"Oh, thank you, kind lady.  I'll be glad to live
another day," he shot back at her.

"Oh, shut up, Mulder, and get down here," Storm
tried not to laugh at Mulder's sarcastic response
and failed.

"Well, Scully just walked through the door, so
we'll be on our way shortly."

"See you soon, Mulder," Storm disconnected and
held the phone up in the air up in the air to let
Kenneth know that she was finished with her
phone call.  After Ken came and took the phone
away, she looked back at Shannon. "We're got a
big problem on our hands."

"Does this problem have Starr's name written all
over it?"

"Yes."

"Then you're right.  We do have a problem."

Storm looked out the window wistfully, "Shay, I
never had any doubt.  I never had any doubt at
all."

*    *    *    *    *

"Are you sure you talked to Storm?"

Mulder sighed and climbed out of the car, "Well,
who else do you know who has a constantly
shifting accent?"

Scully smiled, then sighed herself, "I still
don't know, Mulder."

"Well, Scully, why don't we go inside and find
out?  And hope that we don't get shot by the
trigger happy owner of the place."

"What was that, Mulder?"

"Nothing."

Mulder looked around uneasily when the owner laid
a hand on his gun when they walked in, then
smiled.  "I was told to expect you.  The Austin
duo are in the back," and other than a really
strange look, they were waved past.

"What was that look about, Mulder?"

"What look?"

"The look that guy gave you.  You did say you've
been in here before, right?"

"Yeah."

When they turned the corner, Mulder stopped, and
Scully did a double-take.  "Mulder?"

"Yeah..." Turning to the man Storm was talking
to, he asked, "Hey, have I met you before?"

"Yeah," Shannon Austin grinned, rising to shake
Mulder's hand. "Every time you look in the
mirror."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

"Why don't y'all come and sit down?" Storm's
voice was subdued and she turned and looked away
from the window for the first time since they
entered. "We have a lot to talk about."

"What's going on?"

"This is my sister," Storm pushed a picture
across the table once Mulder and Scully had sat
down on one side, and Shay had slid next to her.
"Her name is Starr and she's very dangerous."

"She looks just like you," Scully commented after
she looked at the picture. "But there's something
about her expression that's--"

"Haughty.  Arrogant.  Two things that are against
everything I am.  She has that look on her face
as often as I have my smirk."

"What's so dangerous about her?"

"She's after me, and she's also a hired assassin
for the Consortium.  She could kill you and
Scully off both as a favor for that bunch of
assholes that keep you two from finding out the
truth, and getting to me at the same time.  And
the way she'd do it was to realize one of your
biggest fears."

"What's that?"

"She'd kill you using fire," Storm shuddered
slightly as she spoke softly.  Mulder's face
turned dead white when he digested what she'd
said. "Starr is a top-rate pyrokinetic."

"Where is she?"

"We don't know," Shannon spoke for the first time
since they sat down. "We think she might have
been the one to ransack Storm's apartment, not
just because it was part of her assignment, but
she was looking for something."

"Matthew and I used this ring and chain set for
communication purposes.  If Starr got ahold of
the chain, she could block us so I wouldn't know
what happened until she killed him," Storm
sighed. "I'm scared."

"What?  Why?" Mulder looked up at her in
disbelief.

"Mulder, I just said that I'm scared, and I am.
And as for the why, let's just say that I have
some suspicions about Starr.  I think she might
just be out to kill everyone close to me, and
then move in for the kill.  I don't think she'll
strike yet.  She's moving too quietly for that."

"Storm, you don't know this," Shannon looked down
at her. "You didn't know about Starr until
today."

"You're right, but I just know.  There are some
things that I just know.  Just like I know that
you're an extremely strong mindspeaker, yet you
never told me that."

"Damn, you're good."

"You're right," Storm smirked.  Everyone laughed
at the expression, then she called out, "Yo, Ken,
coffee for two!"

"What kind?"

"Caramel coffee for Dana and black with cream and
sugar for Mulder.  Right?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Mulder and Scully
responded in unison and they all laughed again.

*    *    *    *    *

Alex Krycek crossed from the bathroom to the bed,
handing Starr the ice pack, which she played on
her head.  She sighed and settled herself more
comfortably into the bed. She moaned and shivered
a bit, and Alex frowned.

"Starr, I'm so sorry..."

"Gods, Alex, why in hell did you have to hit me?"
Starr whined.

"I was just doing my job, Starr.  I thought you
were Storm..."

"Do I look like Storm?  Huh? Do I?  Alex, let me
tell you something.  Storm Austin has hair that's
always braided and hangs down to yeh..." Starr
gestured to her hips.

"Well, Starr, you were supposed to look like
Storm, and I say you succeeded a little too
well."

Starr sighed, "Yeah, Alex, I suppose you're
right.  I don't have to like it, though.  Geez,
you want to have a sexual relationship with me
and you can't even tell me from my twin sister?
How would you know which twin you were really
sleeping with, in that case?"

Alex grinned wickedly down at her, and Starr
glared back at him, snapping, "Alex, don't you
even *think* about it.  Gods, that's
*disgusting*."

He sat down on the bed, "I'm sorry, Starr.  We'll
get her eventually."

Starr's voice shifted from the whiny, pouty voice
she'd been using on him since she regained
consciousness to the evil seductive voice he knew
so well.  A smirk crossed his face.

"Oh, I know, Alex.  I *know* I will.  Cause
y'see, Storm has a lot of friends that she's very
protective of, and a man that she's lifebonded
to."

"So, what then?  You're going to get to her
through these friends and her lifebonded?"

Starr dug around in her jeans pocket and pulled
out a now-tangled chain with a man's size four
ring dangling off of it, and smirked, "Starting
with her lifebonded."

"What's that?"

"It's a ring, silly.  Storm and Matthew were
trying to perfect their communication across
distances.  Matthew isn't the strongest telepath,
y'know.  He's more of a healer, actually.  This
ring helped a bit.  I don't know why, but it
did."

"You're going after him?"

"Not really.  Not yet.  I'm just going to block
them.  That way, if he is ... um, injured, she
won't know about it, and if I do something to
her, he can't find out.  The only way either of
them will know is if the other dies, and then
it'll be too late.  It's a perfect plan, I
think."

Alex grinned. "Sounds like it."

"Now c'mere, loverboy.  We have some things to
catch up on, shall I say, and um, that can wait
until later.  Y'know what they say..."

"The anticipation makes it all the sweeter."

"Precisely," Starr chuckled low in her throat,
and as Krycek moved in, she allowed her mind to
wander away from the plans she was making and
prepared to enjoy herself for a change.

After all, tomorrow *was* another day.

*    *    *    *    *

After Dana and Mulder had finally went home to
get some rest -- together, Storm had to assume,
since Mulder looked more than a little worse for
wear -- she and Shay headed back to her
apartment.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Shay asked
Storm. "I've got a really bad feeling about
this."

"*You* have a really bad feeling?  Shay, if your
bad feeling is anything like my bad feeling, we
need to run in the opposite direction."

"I'm surprised, Storm.  You never seemed to be
the type to run from trouble."

She snorted, "You're right, I'm not.  I seem to
attract it.  They don't call me Trouble for
nothing, you know."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"I think so."

"So, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'm going to be."

They exited the car and headed for her fifth
floor apartment.  Storm stared at the blood stain
in front of her apartment for a moment, and Shay
laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right,
Storma?"

"I'll answer you in a minute," Storm responded as
she entered her apartment.  "Oh, gods..."

The entire apartment was an comeplete disaster
area.  There was a bullseye crack in her
television set, and clothes were scattered around
the room with no sign of order.  Tape and CD
cases lay broken on the floor.  She crossed to
the phone and picked up a burnt slip of paper.
The paper she had written her note to Dana on.

"Storm, what is it?"

"I don't know," Storm frowned at the note, and
made her way into the bedroom.  She closed her
eyes. "You know, Shay, Starr is really a bitch."

"Oh," Shay's voice was teasing as he walked up
behind her silently. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm a horrible neatnik and she does this to me?
Do you have any idea how long it will take me to
repair the wreck she made?"

"A week?"

"Three days.  It'll drive me crazy if it takes
any longer than that."

Storm crossed into her bedroom as Shay chuckled.
Reaching inside, she frowned and her brow knit.
She pulled her hand out of the drawer and looked
up at Shay with wide eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"The necklace.  The chain is gone, Shay.  She
took it.  I can't believe it.  The one day I
forget to put it on, and she takes it..." Storm
shook her head. "Matt'll never forgive me.  Hell,
he may never get the chance *to* forgive me."

"Storm, it's gonna be all right.  I just got this
feeling..."

"Share it with me, Shay, because I'm not really
really all that optimistic right now."

"Wouldn't you rather be surprised?"

"Normally, I'd tell you yes, but right now, the
answer is no.  No, I don't want to be surprised."

"You will get revenge for what happens, but none
of the ideas that are dancing through that pretty
little head of yours will work," Shay said as he
crossed the demolished room to tap her on the
side of your head. "You're going to have to
accept some help."

"I have no problems with accepting help, Shay..."

"Oh, but you do.  You do.  Accepting Mulder and
Dana's help is one thing.  You know them.  But
accepting help from someone that you've hardly
met, yet it seems as though you've been friends
forever?"

"I'll have to cross that bridge when I get to it,
Shannon.  You know that and so do I."

"So be it.  Just as long as you cross the
bridge."

"Sometimes life doesn't give you a choice."

"Aye that, li'l one," Shannon smiled
enigmatically. "Aye that."

"I'm not quite so little, Shay."

"Ah, but you are.  You'll always be little and
cute, and totally incorrigible.  Take it as a
compliment."

Storm laughed, "I'll think about it, Shay.  I'll
think about it.  So, how long is this vacation of
yours last."

"Oh, another month," Shay declared as he flopped
down on her bed.

"Care to have someone show you the sights of
Washington, DC?"

"Why, do you have someone in mind?"

"Aye."

"Who?"

"Me."

"Storm, you couldn't show a man who'd lived here
two centuries around Washington DC."

"Oh," Storm arched an eyebrow at Shay
questioningly. "Why would you say something like
that?"

"Because it's the truth?"

"Shay, I see a lot of truth in the job I'm in,
and that is not truth."

"Oh?  Are you trying to tell me that you could
actually show me around D.C.?"

"I know some people," Storm laughingly commented,
shaking her hair loose from the braid then her
mood changed.  She sighed and picked at the
patchwork comforter she had gotten as a present
from Melissa a few years back before looking up
at Shannon again. "Do ye think I'll make it?"

Shannon embraced her, "I think you'll make it
just fine, Storma.  You're stronger than you
know."

"Am I?"

"Aye," Shannon ruffled her hair, then climbed off
her bed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll
get some sleep on your couch."

"On the couch?" Storm laughed. "You're as bad as
Mulder!"

"Maybe," he winked. "Maybe."

*    *    *    *    *

The next morning when Mulder strode to the
basement, he noticed that the door was cracked.
Carefully, he took his gun out of the holster and
kicked the door open.  All he could see in the
darkness of the room was that a chair had turned
to face him.

"Mulder, put that thing away before you hurt
yourself."

Mulder sighed, and put the gun away at the sound
of Storm's voice, ragged though it may be,
"Storm, what are you doing here so early?  Why
aren't the lights on?"

"Because I don't want them on," she answered.
"Because I have a horrible headache from trying
to get through a block, and I'm suffering from
backlash.  Any more stupid questions?"

"One.  What the hell happened?  You were fine
yesterday, Austin."

"Fine... that's such a relative term here," Storm
gestured to the office. "I mean, you say 'I'm
fine' when you're anything but, and Dana says
'I'm fine' when her shields are falling apart at
the seams, but nobody's really fine, then, are
they?  I guess I'm fine.  As fine as could be
expected."

"Hey, you're in my territory, Storm.
Self-depreciation is what I do best."

Storm managed a weak laugh, "Yeah, you and me
both.  Dana's never seen this side of me, and as
far as I'm concerned, she never will.  I'm her
reliable, slightly sarcastic best friend."

"Slightly?"

"Okay," Storm sounded slightly amused, which was
an improvement. "Maybe I'm a little more than
slightly sarcastic.  Still, it equals out about
the same."

"So, what about this block?  What is it?"

"Mulder, what do you know about psychic bonds?"

"Not much.  I think there's a couple of X-Files
about couples so tightly bound together in mind
and body that when one died, the other followed
directly after."

'If only you knew, Mulder,' Storm thought with a
silent sigh, 'that you and Dana are two of those
people.  Not that you'd realize it.  Both of you
are too stubborn.'

"Yeah, well I had one of those bonds, Mulder.  I
think you already knew that.  Somehow I doubt
that you believed it, though," Storm gestured to
the poster behind him. "You don't want to believe
everything you hear, and I don't blame you."

Mulder's only response was a nod, then he asked,
"Had?  You led me to believe that only death
could break bonds that strong."

"Mulder, it's gone.  It's almost as if it was
never there," Storm shook her head, the braid
coming loose slightly. "If I hadn't spent nearly
fifteen years intimately familiar with that bond,
I would have said that the entire thing was my
imagination.  But Matthew's not dead.  That's
*one* thing that I would know."

"How?"

"I can't explain it, Mulder.  Surely you know..."

Even in the darkness, Mulder could feel her gaze
upon him, feeling as though it had pierced
through his protections, and seen things that had
happened over a year before she'd joined the
X-Files division.  His stubborn determination
that Scully was not dead, his refusal to give up
on her before she returned.  He sighed, "Storm,
has anyone ever told you that you're really
spooky?"

"No, but coming from you, I'll accept that as a
compliment.  I think," Storm paused a moment
before continuing, "Mulder, I'm going to need
help..."

"Well, I *am* a psychologist..." he grinned
mischieviously.

"So am I.  That's not what I'm talking about,
Foxie."

"All right, *Stormie*.  What *are* you talking
about?"

Storm sighed, "Turn on the lights."

"What?"

"I *said*, Turn on the lights."

Mulder crossed the room and flipped the switch.
For the first time that day, he saw what Storm
looked like, and thought it might have been
better if he'd left the lights off.  She looked
like she hadn't slept in days, her eyes were
puffy, red, and he could have sworn that her
eyes were silver.  She looked like hell.

"Mulder, remember what I told you at the
restaurant about Starr blocking Matthew and I?"

"Yeah?"

"She went through with it, and I'm suffering from
backlash because I tried numerous times to get
through the block, but it won't come down.
Starr's going to come back after me.  I'll need
your help then.  I don't know when she's coming,
all I know is that it's a certainty."

"I'll be glad to help if I can, Storm, but didn't
you say that she was a --"

"Pyrokinetic.  Yes, I did.  I told you that I was
scared, Mulder, and I am.  I'll be living my life
on the edge until she shows up again."

"That's dangerous."

Storm's laugh sounded forced. "Yeah, you're
telling me.  Mulder, if I get too tense, then
make sure that I lighten up.  That's all I ask
from you and Dana."

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Dana Scully
walked into the office, her professional persona
in place.  Storm smiled.

A real grin crossed Storm's face for the first
time that morning, "Oh, yah... I was just telling
Mulder how you and I used to act crazy during our
college days."

"Me?  Crazy?  Surely you jest," Dana looked
closer at her friend. "Storm, you look like hell.
What happened?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Dana.  Shay and I stayed up
too late, talking and making fun of bad science
fiction movies."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dana," Storm gave her friend a smile. "I'm
fine.  Oh, I'm sorry," Storm got up from her
friend's desk so she could sit down. "I'm going
to go get some coffee."

As soon as Storm walked out of the office,
Mulder's phone rang, and he lifted it to his ear,
half expecting it to be Skinner on his case again
for another off-the-wall mistake in his case
report.  "Mulder."

"Mulder, this is Shay."

"Shay, as in Storm's cousin that looks like me?"
Mulder asked.

Shannon laughed, "Aye, that twould be me.
Listen, I know that Storma is rather upset, and I
hear Dana hasn't had the best of times lately,
either."

"Yeah..." Mulder waited to see what Shannon was
getting to.

"Well, how would you like to mess with their
minds a tad?"

Mulder's lips curved into a smirk, "Yeah..."

"Let's not talk about it now, since I know Storm
returning to the room.  How about Sunday morning,
10 am."

"Where?"

"Arrow's Crossing."

"I'll be there."

Scully turned to him with a questioning
expression as he hung up the phone. "Who was
that, Mulder?"

"Just a friend."

"I didn't think you had friends."

"Oh, I guess you could say that I've got friends
in low places, Scully."

"Sure, fine..."

"Whatever," Storm piped in as she reentered the
room and they all settled down to work.

'Just another day in the X-Files Division, where
the paranormal is normal,' Mulder thought to
himself with a laugh as he turned on the
computer. 'Things are looking up...'

*    *    *    *    *

-End of Part 2/2-