Futures Past 04: Crossover
Arvy


DISCLAIMER

Okay, all together now. "Good morning, Mr. C..." Whoops, 
wrong line. Sorry. Anyway here goes. I hereby disclaim everything 
and everybody appearing in this story. No one belongs to me, and 
I'm only borrowing them for a while to see what mischief I can 
get them into. The X-files belong to CC or 1013 or Fox, 
Highlander to Rysher, and FK to Tristar, I think. Generally 
speaking, they belong to whoever owns them, not to me, got that?

Author's Notes

Hello and thanks to all of you who have stuck through the 
entire series up to this point. We finally descend into the 
depths of romance (UST->RST), so any noromos should have already 
bailed. If not you would be advised to do so effective 
immediately. Or... you can grit your teeth, read on, and discover 
what you've been missing all this time ;)

Plotwise this thing can stand on its own. But as for some of 
the background on the agents, this fourth in the series is not, 
repeat, not stand-alone. You have to have read the previous two 
(FP2: The Light of Day and FP3: My Funny Valentine) cause stuff 
from that gets referred to in here. If this is the first in the 
series you're reading (GASP!), don't worry, stay calm, switch to 
netscape, lynx, ie, what have you, browse immediately to your 
nearest Gossamer mirror and look up the others under my name 
(Arvy). If you can't find 'em there, email me at 
unmai@bigfoot.com and I'll be happy to forward you a copy. Also, 
all my other stories, missing parts, etc. can be found on my 
website at http://www.bigfoot.com/~unmai.

A note about the timeline. This story falls right after Bad 
Blood in the X-files, sometime after Armageddon on Highlander, 
and long after Last Knight (which never happened in my universe) 
on Forever Knight. Also, many of the earlier events actually are 
concurrent with the events in FP3. A word of warning though; all 
characters other than M&S are secondary. I do go into a little 
bit of depth about them, and I've tried to explain about 
immortality and the HL/FK characters within the story itself, but 
don't expect the story to revolve around them. They are what you 
might call the supporting cast.

Thanks again go to my sister, who actually did come up with 
a couple of ideas to push my creative vehicle over some annoying 
writer's blocks. And as always, feedback will be appreciated, 
read, and lovingly acknowledged. Meaning, send 'em on. The 
address is unmai@bigfoot.com.

And so the story goes...

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Futures Past 04:
Crossover
by Arvy 

Abandoned warehouse, Pier 17, Seattle, WA
Thursday, February 12, 1998
7:16 PM

The building was dark, this time of day. On one of the upper 
floors, in what looked like a hastily put together bedroom, a 
pair of eyes opened, flashing like twin suns in the faint light. 
She awoke, feeling hungry, as usual. She roused herself from the 
bed and headed to the makeshift bathroom next door. Before she 
prepared to wash up, she glanced at herself in the mirror. The 
woman who stared back at her looked to be in her late twenties. 
She seemed to exude an ethereal beauty, her lustrous dark hair 
cascading around her shoulders as she shook herself awake. She 
gave herself a small smile as she turned away.

Finishing up, she headed out of the room. As she passed the 
adjoining rooms, she spared a loving glance into each one. 
'Good,' she thought, 'the children are still sleeping. Time to 
get something to eat.' With that thought, she glided down the 
stairs and headed out into the encroaching night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Alleyway next to Joe's bar
8:12 PM

Kevin Matthews and Sydney Brown headed out of the bar, hand 
in hand. They had just met a little over an hour ago, and had hit 
it off immediately. Neither of them could remember a night when 
they'd left a bar so early, but tonight, it was all they could do 
to keep from pouncing on each other. They'd had to get out of 
there to someplace more private.

They walked down the alley to Kevin's car, eyes lost in each 
others', both oblivious to the world around them. Neither of them 
heard the slight thud behind them, or the soft sounds of 
approaching footsteps, although they would have been hard pressed 
to do so even had they been paying attention. The first sign of 
trouble came when Kevin saw Sydney suddenly pulled away from him. 
He saw her body fly towards the side wall where it landed with a 
sickening crack, then slowly slid down to the ground. A soft moan 
escaped her lips... she was still alive, but just barely.

He looked back at the figure standing next to him, a look of 
fear in his eyes. His eyes fell upon a sight that took his breath 
away... it had to be a vision he beheld. He stared at the most 
beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. He was entranced by 
the golden glow of her eyes, almost hidden behind raven black 
hair, and her surreal beauty as she advanced towards him. All 
thought of Sydney, lying helplessly a few feet away, fled his 
mind as he heard her seductive voice. She came closer, closer... 
so close... He stumbled back, tripped, and fell. He saw her 
bending over him. His last conscious thought as he stared at the 
sudden gleam of pointed white that appeared between her lips was 
a frantic prayer, 'Oh, god! don't let me die.' He felt a sharp 
pain in his neck, then fell into a delirium of ecstasy before the 
world closed up around him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

8:40 PM

Two figures left the bar and headed down the alley towards 
their car.

"It's good to be back in the US. I've missed it this past 
year and a half," said the taller man.

"Oh, I don't know, Duncan," replied the shorter figure. "I 
was just starting to get used to Paris, you know, the wine, the 
women... the stale cheese, the rock hard bread..."

"Be serious, Methos. I know this isn't your neck of the 
woods, but this is where I have some of my more pleasant 
memories."

"And some of your more unpleasant ones as well, don't 
forget." He paused when he saw his friend tense up. Following his 
gaze towards the body lying a few yards away, he broke into a run 
towards it.

They kneeled down next to it as Duncan reached for the 
girl's wrist. He saw Methos turn the girl's face towards him, but 
as he searched for a pulse, he knew it was already too late. He 
looked at his friend, and catching his eye, silently shook his 
head. "You'd better call the police..." He frowned when he didn't 
receive an answer. "Methos!"

The sudden shout seemed to bring him out of his reverie. 
Methos nodded as he stood up and headed back towards the bar to 
make the call.

'Wonder what's wrong with him. You'd think he'd never seen a 
dead body before,' Duncan thought as he reached up to examine the 
girl's neck. He gasped at the two small puncture wounds on the 
side of her throat. '*Great!* That's just great! That's all I 
need now. The horsemen, demons, and now vampires.' He sighed as 
he stood back up to wait for his friend to return.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

8:55 PM

Duncan, Methos and Joe Dawson stood in the alley as they 
watched the body being lifted onto the stretcher. A figure 
emerged from behind the ambulance, her face hidden in the glare 
of the strobing lights. She walked up to the body and pulled down 
the sheet covering it.

As she leaned down, her face came into view. "Anne," 
breathed Duncan as he started towards her.

"Duncan?" Dr. Anne Lindsey looked up from her cursory 
examination, a smile on her face as she recognized him. "I didn't 
know you were back in Seattle."

"Hello Anne. I just got back a couple of days ago. How are 
you?" he asked, pleased to see her.

"I'm fine." She paused, frowning. "What are you doing here? 
This is a crime scene, you know."

"I was about to ask you the same question. We, my friend and 
I," he said, pointing to Methos, "found the body."

"Oh," she nodded. "Well, I decided not to work full time in 
the ER, what with Mary and all. I'm just doing some research now, 
helping the police with their investigation." She looked back 
down at the body, turning the head to get a closer look at the 
neck area. She nodded, apparently finding what she was looking 
for. She pulled back the cover and gestured to the EMTs to take 
charge of the body.

"Investigation?"

"Uh-huh. You haven't heard... oh, of course not, you just 
got back," she said as the stretcher was wheeled into the 
ambulance. "This is the tenth body in half as many weeks. All the 
same MO. Trauma, massive loss of blood, not to mention those 
strange puncture marks on the throat. Hard to imagine that much 
blood loss from those tiny wounds, though."

"You gave up the ER for this?" Duncan asked incredulously. 
They turned to watch the ambulance pull away.

"Well, most of my cases aren't so grisly. Like I said, I 
mainly do research... bloodwork, analysis, that sort of thing... 
strictly 9 to 5 stuff. Tonight, I just happened to be in the area 
and I saw the ambulance."

By now, the alley had become quiet again. No one could have 
guessed at the gruesome scene that had occurred less than an hour 
ago except for the police tape fencing off a part of the alley, 
and the dark stain on the ground a few yards away.

Anne turned as Duncan's friends walked over. "Hello Joe," 
she said, recognizing the older man immediately.

"Anne," he nodded in acknowledgement.

She turned to the younger looking man next to him. "Hi, I'm 
Dr. Anne Lindsey," she introduced herself, holding out her hand.

"Adam Pierson. Sorry to have to meet under such 
circumstances." He took her hand in his. "Maybe I can buy you 
dinner?"

Anne turned to Duncan with a smile. "Is he always this 
forward?" Turning back to Methos, she answered, "That's sweet, 
but I'm afraid I'll have to take a raincheck. I need to talk to 
some people about this." Her voice dropped, "Frankly, we, I mean, 
the police, are getting nowhere with this case. Not only are 
bodies with similar symptoms piling up, but people are 
disappearing as well. And many of these murder-missing person 
incidents seem to be occurring in pairs."

"Funny you should mention that," Joe interrupted her. "I saw 
the girl they just took away leaving the bar with a young man. I 
think he said his name was Kevin something or the other."

"I'll be sure to mention that in my report. Thanks, Joe. 
But, ten to one, we won't be able to find him anywhere. Well," 
she sighed, "I guess I'll see you guys around. I'm beat, and I 
still have a couple of phone calls to make." She yawned as she 
turned away, heading down the alley.

"Goodnight, Anne." Duncan waved after her. Turning back to 
his friends, he added, "I think I'm going to turn in as well. 
It's been a long day. Bye, guys."

It was only after they heard Duncan's car starting up did 
Methos realize something. "What the hell! He was my ride." He 
groaned, turning to Joe. "I can't believe this."

Joe smiled and shook his head. "C'mon back to the bar. You 
can call a cab from there."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

DeSalvo's Gym
9:30 PM

Duncan MacLeod sighed as he glanced at the clock. He 
considered the night's events and began to wish he'd stayed in 
Paris just a little while longer. Not one to put off the 
inevitable, however, he walked over to the phone and dialed a 
number he hadn't used in a long time.

He waited as the phone rang. When it was picked up, he heard 
a voice on the other end. 

"Metro Homicide."

"Could I speak with Detective Nick Knight, please?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Copper Creek Apartments
9:42 PM

Adam Pierson, known only to a handful of people as Methos, a 
5000 year old immortal, glanced at the clock before he placed a 
call to one of those people.

When he heard the phone being picked up, he said, "Hello 
Lucien. We have a problem..."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Anne Lindsey's residence
9:47 PM

She had finally gotten Mary to go back to sleep after she'd 
woken from a nightmare and started crying inconsolably. She moved 
down the hallway to the study and sat down to look at the files 
lying on the table in front of her. She thought about what she 
was about to do. What she had told Duncan had been true enough... 
the police were getting nowhere as far as solving this case was 
concerned. But they had yet to break down and ask for expert help 
from federal resources. She, on the other hand, was trying to 
approach the case from a medical standpoint, instead of a 
criminal perspective. And she knew that this was something way 
over their heads. The latest victim just confirmed her decision. 
She wanted to talk to experts in this field, but needed to keep 
it discreet. So she'd decided to turn to a couple of old friends 
for help. She had studied forensic medicine in college before 
opting for general practice, and she knew just the people to 
call. She sighed, smiling as she recalled pleasant memories of 
her days in school. She looked down at the two names and phone 
numbers she'd jotted down on the notepad. She hadn't talked to 
them in quite some time. Perhaps it was time to touch base with 
her old friends after all.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Nicholas Knight's residence, Toronto, Canada
Friday, February 13, 1998
5:30 PM

The quiet Friday afternoon was rudely interrupted by the 
sudden clash of metal upon metal, as it had been every few 
seconds for the past half hour. Luckily, the loft was in a 
secluded part of the city, and the only creatures disturbed by 
the incessant noise were the birds that had decided to roost atop 
the loft. Even had some curious passerby stopped after hearing 
the noise, he wouldn't have been able to see much... the windows 
of the loft were closed and tightly shuttered, proof against even 
the narrowest beam of sunlight.

Inside the building, two lone figures danced in the dim 
light of the incandescent lamps. Their movements were slow and 
deliberate... yet the swords they held seemed to move faster than 
the eye could follow. The blades descended towards each other 
until they met in a crescendo of sound, the opponents apparently 
an even match. All of a sudden, the match ended as one of the 
figures lost their sword, the blade of the other coming within 
inches of their neck.

As one, both pulled back and saluted before dropping into 
the couches on the side of the room. The woman reached over and 
grabbed a towel and a water bottle lying on a nearby table, 
wiping off her sweat as she took a long swig of water. "What the 
hell..." she gasped between gulps, "... was that last move?" She 
brushed aside her long brown hair to glance over at her sparring 
partner, and scowled. He'd barely broken a sweat.

He smiled. "Oh, just something I picked up in late 14th 
century Britain. You know, you're still a little weak on that 
follow through there, Nat. You need to swing harder if you want 
to break through your opponent's defense."

"I'll work on it." She took another swig before turning back 
to look at him. "Are you sure you didn't cheat on that last part? 
I could have sworn I saw your hand blur there for a second."

The object of her annoyed glare put a hand over his heart, 
affecting a wounded expression that silently said, "Moi?" When 
she continued glaring, he relented, "Ok, maybe just a little bit. 
You're getting better everyday, Nat, and much as I hate to admit 
it, I think I'm getting a little rusty after a few centuries of 
abstaining from swordplay." He sighed, "This is definitely not 
one of those things like riding a bike. Without practice, you 
*do* forget."

Nat leaned back, a Cheshire cat grin on her face as she 
muttered, "I knew it!"

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing!" She quickly tried to change the subject, "So 
what's the big news you couldn't wait to tell me."

"Hunh? Oh yeah. I tried to call you yesterday night at the 
office. Where were you?"

"Umm... mostly in the morgue. Couple of gunshot victims. I 
hear you caught the killer already."

"Yeah, so anyway, the reason I called was cause I got a call 
from someone I haven't heard from in almost two years. You 
remember Duncan MacLeod, don't you?" he asked, smiling.

"Duncan?" Her eyes widened. "Like I could forget. Isn't he 
in Paris now?"

"Nope. Apparently he got back Stateside a few days ago." He 
paused, looking at her. "So how do you feel about taking a couple 
of weeks to go visit Seattle. I have some time coming, and I know 
you do too."

He was surprised when she let out a small chuckle. "So, 
Nick, might this impromptu vacation have something to do with 
dead bodies mysteriously drained of blood and strange puncture 
wounds on their throats?"

"How'd you know? Did he call you too?"

"No. I have an old college friend living down there. She's 
an ME helping with the police investigation. She faxed the 
reports for me to take a look at... apparently the police aren't 
making much headway with the case, and she wanted an outside 
opinion. I took one look at them and suggested coming over for a 
visit. I was going to tell you today morning, but I was just too 
tired. I guess I fell asleep before you came in."

"So what do you make of the reports. Was it...?" he trailed 
off with a questioning look in his eyes.

"Well, it certainly has all the earmarks. But even if it 
isn't, I could use the time off. It's been ages since I've seen 
Anne, and it'll be good to see Duncan again too." With that she 
got up and headed for the shower, leaving Nick to prepare to 
leave for work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dana Scully's Apartment, Georgetown, DC
Saturday, February 14, 1998
7:14 PM

Two of his four planes had already been shot down and his 
third fighter was now in trouble. He watched helplessly as its 
wing was strafed by machine gun fire. Within seconds, it too was 
spiraling down towards the deep blue surface of the ocean below. 
There was no way he was going to win this dogfight with just one 
measly bomber left.

He looked around the screen at the woman sitting across from 
him, facing him. Well... not looking at him exactly... her 
attention was riveted on the screen in front of her. She 
scrunched up her face in concentration as she moved the joystick 
in her hand ever so slightly to the left. A small but satisfied 
smile appeared on her face.

He looked back at his screen just in time to see the missile 
lock signal appear at the bottom of his readout panel. He put 
down his own joystick in disgust, watching as his one remaining 
plane exploded in a burst of flames.

"Game... set... match... as they say." He scowled as the 
petite redhead shut down her laptop and stood up.

"I knew getting you that joystick was a bad idea," he 
growled. "How'd you get so good with it so quickly, anyway?"

"Trade secret, Mulder. I'd tell you, but then I'd have to 
kill you." She smiled. "Want some coffee?" she asked as she 
headed towards the kitchen.

"Sure, I could use some." He walked over to the phone. "I'm 
going to order the pizza now," he called out.

"Just remember, no anchovies this time, Mulder," her voice 
wafted out of the kitchen. "Last time I spent more time picking 
off pieces of dead fish from my pizza than I did actually eating 
it."

He grinned, shaking his head as he reached for the phone.

A half hour later, they were seated on the couch, eating 
pizza and watching TV, waiting for the eight o'clock movie to 
start. Dana Scully glanced over at her partner as he pulled a 
slice of pizza back from his mouth, trailing strings of cheese 
from it back to his lips. She saw the way his lips moved as he 
tried to pull all the cheese into his mouth. She let her gaze 
travel back to the muscles working in his jaw, up his face, past 
his, oh, so dreamy... *dreamy?*... yes, dreamy eyes, until it 
finally settled on the dark locks of hair framing his face. She 
stared at the one errant lock that fell over his forehead as she 
lazily munched on her pizza.

'If he doesn't push that hair up soon, I'm going to do it 
for him.' The sudden thought startled her with its intensity. A 
flush crept over her face as she realized that he'd caught her 
staring at him. She tried to hide her embarrassment behind an air 
of nonchalance as she asked, "So, where are you going for your 
vacation?"

"I got a call from my dad's lawyer about a week ago. Some of 
his property is lying vacant, and he wanted me to go look it over 
and decide if I want to keep it or sell it." He shrugged. "It's 
apparently a drain on the estate taxes, and the law firm 
recommended I sell it as soon as possible." Seeing her nod, he 
asked, "Are you going to take some time off too? Or was your 
little weekend in Maine enough for the next couple of years?" His 
lips pulled back in a teasing grin.

"Mulder... I spent most of that weekend working..."

"That's not what you told me when you got back, Scully," he 
interrupted her.

She moved her shoulders in a non-committal gesture. "To 
answer your question, yes. I decided to take a couple of weeks 
off to visit an old friend of mine. Someone I haven't seen since 
med school."

"Oh?" He watched her eyes glaze over as she recalled what 
were apparently pleasant memories, as evidenced by the slight 
smile gracing her lips. Suddenly, he felt a pang of guilt. 'Did 
she even have any memories since she joined the X-files that she 
could look back upon as being pleasant?' Lord knew, he didn't. 
No... that wasn't entirely true. The one memory he would always 
look back upon fondly was sitting right in front of him. He 
smiled to himself as she continued. Her next statement took him 
by surprise.

"Anne Lindsey. She's a doctor in Seattle. It's been almost, 
what, eight years since I've seen her? God, how time flies." She 
paused, her thoughts drifting back to the present as she saw the 
look of surprise on his face. "Mulder...?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied in answer to her unspoken 
question, "it's just that it's one hell of a coincidence. My 
dad's house, the property I was telling you about, is also in 
Seattle." He smiled, "Looks like we'll be traveling companions, 
Scully."

She let out an exaggerated groan. "Oh God! That's all I 
need. I take a vacation to get away from it all, and then I find 
out I'm still stuck with you." But surprised as she was, she was 
also slightly pleased. Not that she would ever acknowledge that, 
of course.

"Oh, come on, Scully. I'm not that bad. Besides, it'll be 
fun. We never get to spend that much time together away from 
work," he pleaded, his eyes taking on that wounded little puppy 
look.

She was going to retort with his own, "Are you coming on to 
me, Mulder?" just to see his reaction, but decided not to at the 
last minute. She didn't think she could handle whatever reply he 
gave, although knowing him, it would probably be hidden in some 
sort of joke. Instead, she asked, "So where is this house of 
yours anyway?"

"Umm... somewhere on the outskirts, Shady Glen Road or 
something like that."

Her eyes widened at his answer. 'It couldn't be.' That was 
the same address Anne had given her. When she mentioned this to 
Mulder, he just chuckled. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are 
you sure you didn't arrange this, Mulder? Is there really a 
house?"

He placed a hand over his heart in a silent, "Would I do 
that to you?" "Oh, come on Scully, don't you believe in 
coincidences?" He thought about why he had decided on going to 
Seattle now. He'd known about the house for close to two and a 
half years now. But now it was only a convenient excuse to 
unofficially follow up on the case file that had caught his 
attention the day before. 'Mysterious deaths due to trauma and 
exsanguination.' Although the police in Seattle hadn't officially 
requested federal help, a friend on the force had sent him the 
file to look at. He briefly considered telling Scully about it, 
but after that last case, he wasn't sure if she'd throttle him, 
or shoot him, or both, if he brought it up. 'Both... definitely 
both,' he winced at the idea. Which was one reason he was 
surprised at his next few words. "Besides, as a show of good 
faith, you are hereby invited to spend your vacation at Chateau 
Mulder. What do you say?" He held his breath as he saw the 
decisions racing through her mind. 'What was he thinking, 
inviting her like that? This wasn't just a couple of hours spent 
at the other's place. They were talking about a couple of weeks, 
at the very least. It was too soon... wasn't it?' He thought back 
to last Thursday night when he'd paid a sudden visit to someone 
he hadn't seen in a while.

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Margaret Scully's Residence, Baltimore, MD
Thursday, February 12, 1998 (2 nights ago)
8:00 PM

He knocked on the door and waited. What was he doing here, 
he asked himself. He sighed, because he knew the answer already. 
It was the same answer he'd been giving himself for the better 
part of the day, ever since he'd gone out and bought that ring. 
He fingered the box in his pocket as he waited for the door to 
open.

"Hello, Mrs. Scully." He smiled at the person who stood in 
the doorway.

"Fox! Hi." Margaret Scully's expression softened at the 
sight of her visitor. "Come on in." She stood aside to let him 
enter. Closing the door behind him, she led him into the living 
room. Once they had sat down, she asked, "It's wonderful to see 
you, Fox. Can I get you something... coffee, tea?" When he shook 
his head, she nodded. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your 
visit?"

Mulder looked at the woman sitting across from him. He 
couldn't help feeling that she already knew the answer to that 
question, or at least had a pretty good idea. He sighed. 
Sometimes it looked like he couldn't hide anything from the 
Scully women. Of course, he'd kept his feelings about one 
particular Scully woman hidden pretty well for some time now. He 
got up and started to pace.

He opened his mouth to ask her the question he'd been 
rehearsing all evening. "How's Bill Jr. doing?" 'Wait a minute... 
that wasn't what he'd wanted to ask. Where had that come from?'

"He's fine, Fox. Thank you for asking." She frowned. That 
was not what she'd been expecting him to say. His next few 
questions brought a sigh to her lips, along with a sense of 
amused wonder. She had no idea Fox knew so many of the people 
that she knew. He asked about Charles, her neighbors, their pets. 
He even asked about the people in her church group. 'Talk about 
skirting the issue,' she thought. She reached out to grasp his 
hand as he walked by. When she caught his eye, she could tell 
that he'd finally made up his mind to tell her what he was here 
for.

"Mrs. Scully..." he began nervously. "I... I got... I got 
Dana something for Valentine's."

"That's sweet, Fox. But why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want your opinion. I did a little reading up on 
it before I got it. I thought it was the perfect gift. But then I 
thought about it some more, and suddenly I wasn't too sure." The 
last part came out in a whisper.

'Now what could have a meaning deep enough to worry Fox 
Mulder?' she thought. According to her daughter, Fox was the kind 
of person to hide all his feelings behind humor and cynicism, 
although she knew better. "Don't worry, Fox. I'm sure that 
whatever it is, it's something that shows the thought you put 
into it." Did she really want to know what he'd gotten Dana? It 
looked like she was going to find out.

She saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a small 
jewelry box, the kind used to hold earrings or a ring. He sat 
down beside her and she saw his hands shake slightly as he handed 
it to her. She glanced at his eyes before opening the box, and 
was shocked to see the fear she saw lurking there. 'Fear of 
what?' she asked herself as she slowly opened the box. As soon as 
she did though, she knew the answer. 'A Claddagh ring! He'd 
actually gone to the trouble of looking up its meaning before 
getting it. Is he finally ready?' she wondered.

She had known that Fox Mulder was in love with her daughter 
ever since that night when she'd come upon him in Dana's 
apartment after her abduction. The knowledge was only compounded 
over the next few months as she watched him slowly, but surely 
sink into the bottomless pit of despair. She'd felt powerless to 
help him as she herself tried to overcome the grief of losing her 
little girl. Even after Dana was returned, she saw that he wasn't 
getting better. He was seeing the one person he cared about in 
his life slowly being pulled away from him. He simply couldn't 
bring himself to allow the doctors to pull her from the 
respirator, even though he'd witnessed her living will himself. 
When Dana had finally woken up, Margaret Scully couldn't tell who 
she was more relieved for. She had surprised herself as she 
realized that she'd unconsciously accepted this lonely young man, 
with all his emotional baggage, as part of her family. She knew 
that had her daughter died, she would have been attending the 
funerals of not one, but two children.

Of course, she knew that Dana loved him as well. It was so 
obvious every time she talked about her 'Mulder,' the way her 
voice changed, the way her eyes took on that faraway look. She 
had been waiting for the two of them to acknowledge it for three 
years now. But both of them were too stubborn, and too afraid to 
do so. Although, now it looked as if Fox was ready to take the 
first step... or was he?

She decided that a direct attack was the best way, so she 
asked without preamble, "Do you love her, Fox?" She smiled at his 
reaction.

He stared at her uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. Surely 
she hadn't asked him what he thought she'd just asked him. He 
looked at the fireplace and then looked back at her. He sighed as 
he ran a hand over his face. 'Yes,' he decided, 'she'd definitely 
asked him *the question.*' And now he had to decide on how to 
answer her. Finally he decided upon a whispered "Yes."

The reply was almost below her hearing threshold, but she 
couldn't help smiling. 'The first step... finally.' It could only 
get better from here, although you couldn't tell from looking at 
him. If possible, he looked more miserable at having to admit his 
feelings for Dana. She forced her happy thoughts to the 
background as she focused on what he was saying.

"... but it's too soon, Mrs. Scully. I can't tell her. What 
if she doesn't feel the same way? What if she... if she decides 
to leave the X-files, leave me?" He appeared horror-stricken at 
the thought. "What if she asks for a transfer? I can't lose the 
best friend I've ever had by trying to get something that was 
never meant to be. Besides, it's too dangerous. If *they* ever 
found out, they could easily use it against us." The expression 
on his face ran the full gamut of emotions from fear to horror 
and finally settled on a look of sorrow.

"Fox..." She began, but stopped when she saw that he wasn't 
listening. Pulling his chin up to meet his eyes, she tried again, 
"Fox, listen to me. I happen to know that my daughter loves you." 
She held up a hand to forestall his objections. "Don't ask me how 
I know, just trust me on this, I know. And I can guarantee that 
she won't turn you down. And as for the other stuff, how much 
more danger can you two get into? Have either of you cared less 
for each other before than you do now? Will anything have 
changed, except for the fact that neither of you will be beating 
yourselves up over silly 'might have beens' and 'What ifs'?" She 
paused, then squeezed his hand as she continued in a low but firm 
voice, "Tell her, Fox."

He met her gaze and held it for a few minutes before he gave 
up. He never could resist the Scully women. He sighed as she 
handed him back the ring. "I'll try, Mrs. Scully, but not yet. I 
still have a lot to think about." He stood up and placed the ring 
back in his pocket. He looked down at her, adding, "It's just so 
soon. I have to wait for the right time. I have to know how she 
feels."

"Fox, it's never the right time," she answered in a soft 
voice.

He simply nodded. "Thank you for talking to me, Mrs. Scully. 
Like I said, I have a lot to think about. Good night." With that 
he turned towards the door.

Margaret Scully watched Fox Mulder walk out the door, hoping 
he would do the right thing. She reached for the small cell phone 
that lay behind one of the cushions. Dana had left it behind when 
she'd visited earlier that day. She'd forgotten to give it to 
Fox, but it gave her an excellent excuse to call her daughter. 
She rose and walked over to the phone.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dana Scully's Apartment

'Definitely too soon,' he told himself as he waited for an 
answer.

Scully thought about the real reason she was going to 
Seattle. 'Maybe if I'm staying with him, I can keep an eye on 
him, make sure he doesn't get wind of this case. After that last 
one, I'm not sure why I even agreed to take a look at this case.' 
For Anne, she reminded herself. 'Uh-huh! Is that the only reason 
you want to stay with him, Dana?' a small part of her taunted. 
The conversation she'd had with her mother that morning flashed 
through her mind.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Margaret Scully's Residence, Baltimore, MD
Saturday, February 14, 1998
9:20 AM

'I'll just get the phone and leave,' she told herself as she 
waited for the door to open. When it did, she smiled at the 
person standing in the doorway. "Hi, mom. I just came to get my 
phone. Mulder's waiting in the car, so I can't stay long."

"Good morning, Dana." Margaret Scully walked with her 
daughter to the living room to retrieve the cell phone she'd left 
behind a couple of nights ago. Picking it up from the coffee 
table, Margaret handed it to Dana, noticing the ring as she did 
so. She held her daughter's hand, lightly stroking the ring as 
she looked up at Dana's eyes. "It's beautiful, Dana," she 
murmured.

Dana looked at her mother with curiosity. She didn't seem 
surprised at the ring. In fact, Dana had expected some sort of 
comment about it, and was half dreading the questions she was 
sure she would be plied with. "It is, isn't it? Mulder gave it to 
me for Valentine's."

When Margaret nodded, Dana had a sudden idea. "Mom, I wanted 
to thank Mulder for his gift, and to let him know how much I care 
for him. I was thinking of giving him my cross." She lightly 
fingered the chain lying around her neck as she said it. "Would 
you mind?" she asked nervously, unsure of her mother's reaction. 
After all, it had been a gift from her.

"Oh, Dana! I think that's a wonderful idea. I know how much 
he means to you, and I think it would be the perfect gift." She 
beamed at the idea.

Dana let out a breath of relief at her mother's words. 
"Thanks mom." She took Margaret's hands in hers and squeezed 
them, giving her a kiss.

Margaret looked at her daughter before coming to a decision. 
"Could you wait for a few minutes? I have something for you." 
With that, she hurried upstairs.

When her mother returned, Dana saw that she clutched 
something in her hand. She walked up to her, noticing the sad 
look in her eyes.

Her eyes cleared up when she saw her daughter. She held up 
Dana's hand and placed a packet in it, closing her other hand 
over it. "Since you're giving your cross to Fox, I thought this 
was only fitting. I want you to have this, and I know Missy would 
have, too." She smiled as a small tear slid down her face.

Dana looked at her mother, then cautiously opened the small 
packet. She slid its contents into her palm and was taken aback. 
Missy's cross... She looked up at her mom, a hint of tears in her 
own eyes. "Are you sure?" she asked softly. When her mother 
nodded, she handed it back, reaching up to unclasp hers. She slid 
it into the packet and turned around. "Could you put it on, mom?" 
She let the tears fall as she felt her mother place the chain 
around her neck. She turned back around and hugged her mother 
tightly.

When they pulled apart, each of them gave a small smile at 
the other's tear-stained expressions. Reaching up to wipe her 
eyes, Margaret Scully asked, "So what are you going to do about 
that ring? And don't think I didn't see which way it was 
pointing."

"Oh, mom. He doesn't feel that way. The ring signifies 
friendship, that's all," she replied, reaching up to wipe her own 
eyes. "Besides, he hasn't said anything or done anything to make 
me think otherwise."

Margaret couldn't help noticing that her daughter didn't 
deny her feelings for her partner like she always did. Of course, 
she didn't exactly admit to them either, so she decided to give 
it a slight push. Remembering her conversation with Fox barely 
two nights ago, she thought to herself, 'First step, Maggie, make 
sure she takes the first step.' Although she was certain of the 
answer, she asked anyway, "Do you love him, Dana?" She smiled 
slightly at her daughter's reaction to her question. She did 
exactly the same thing Fox had done.

Dana looked over at the fireplace, then looked back at her 
mother. She'd asked her *the question.* She couldn't believe it. 
And she couldn't believe the answer that immediately entered her 
mind. She sighed as she ran a hand over her face. She didn't have 
to answer, however... the look on her face, in her eyes, gave her 
away.

"Oh, Dana!" Margaret reached up to touch her cheek. "You 
should tell him."

'I can't do this, not right now,' Dana thought frantically. 
"Umm... mom, I have to go. Mulder's waiting." With that, she 
turned and hurried out of the house.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dana Scully's Apartment

'Is that the only reason you want to stay with him?" the 
voice asked again. "Yes," she said, both to still her suddenly 
errant thoughts and in reply to her partner's invitation. She 
couldn't be sure, but it looked as if he'd been holding his 
breath waiting for her to answer. And after her mother had gotten 
her to admit her feelings for him that morning, she didn't know 
quite how to interpret his reaction.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding 
when he heard her answer. He was relieved, ecstatic, and 
frightened all at the same time. Before he could contemplate her 
reply any further, he saw her get up and walk into her bedroom. 
She returned moments later with a small packet in her hand.

"I wanted to give you something for Valentine's, but I 
wanted to ask my mother first, just to make sure she was okay 
with it." She sat back down on the couch and handed him the 
packet.

He opened it and looked inside. 'Her cross!' He looked up at 
her with a silent question in his eyes.

"That's the cross my parents gave me," she said, pointing to 
the chain he held in his hand. "They meant it as a symbol of 
their love for me and their faith in God. When I told my mom that 
I wanted to give it to you, she insisted on giving me Missy's." 
She raised her hand to lightly trace the chain she currently 
wore.

"I'm not Catholic, Scully." He tried to inject a little 
humor into his voice, but it cracked anyway. This was the only 
symbol, the only reminder he'd had of Scully when she'd been 
taken away. And she trusted him enough to give it to him now. He 
looked at her with a slight sheen in his eyes.

"Think of it as a symbol of my faith and belief in you, 
Mulder." She moved in a little closer and took the chain from 
him, reaching up to place it around his neck.

Mulder reached up to cover her hand as she finished clasping 
it. He brought it to his lips and lightly laid a kiss on her 
fingers. "Thank you, Scully. I mean that."

She nodded and sat back in the couch next to him, leaning 
her head on his shoulder as they waited for the movie to start.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mulder Residence, Seattle, WA
Sunday, February 15, 1998
5:15 PM

The dark grey Ford Taurus pulled up in front of the house. 
The two occupants got out and, hefting their luggage, walked up 
the front path.

"It's beautiful, Mulder," said the woman, putting down her 
bags, waiting for her companion to open the door. She looked 
around, admiring the house and the secluded setting it was 
located in. With a little imagination, it would be easy to 
believe that they were the only living souls for miles around. 
The house itself was a beautiful two story affair, almost like 
her mother's house in Baltimore.

"It is, isn't it?" Mulder replied, turning the key and 
pushing open the door. "This is one place I actually have fond 
memories of. Sam and I used to spend summers here with an old 
uncle of ours." He smiled at the memory. "Dad inherited this 
place after he died. Actually, I'm surprised to find it in such 
good condition. The last caretaker quit a few months ago. But, 
from the looks of things," he said, stepping in and taking a look 
around, "we won't have to do much before we can settle in." 
Placing his bags by the door, he turned to help his partner with 
hers. "It's going to be a great few weeks, Scully," he said, 
smiling at her.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

8:35 PM

They spent the afternoon cleaning up the place. It was 
bigger than it looked from the outside, and it took a couple of 
hours to remove all the dust covers from the furniture, searching 
for fresh linens, hooking up the electricity, stocking the 
kitchen, and making sure everything worked. Finally, they plopped 
down on the couch, exhausted.

Mulder immediately reached for the remote control. Flipping 
on the TV, he asked, "Are you going to see your friend tomorrow?" 
He took a sip from the can of Dr Pepper he held in his hand.

"Yeah, she works till about five, so I'll probably go by her 
office sometime before then." 'Plus a visit to the morgue 
beforehand couldn't hurt either,' she added silently.

He frowned. "A doctor that gets off work at five? Hmmm... 
those hours sound a bit suspicious, if you ask me." His eyes 
twinkled in mischief.

"Mulder... you'd find a conspiracy in a can of Dr Pepper if 
I let you," she answered, shaking her head. "Besides, not 
everyone works the hours we do."

"You know, Scully," he said, turning to face the television, 
but looking at her out of the corner of his eye, "there is a 
theory that the government was involved in removing the period 
after the Dr on the Dr Pepper can as a form of mind control." He 
smiled when he saw her frown and reach over to pick up her can of 
soda.

Turning it, she remarked, "Mulder... I don't remember there 
ever having been a period..." She trailed off, thinking about 
what she'd been about to say. 'Ouch, walked right into that one,' 
she chided herself.

He chuckled at her chagrined expression, then ducked to 
avoid the cushion that sailed over his head scant seconds later.

"And what's the great Mulder going to do tomorrow?"

"Paperwork! The one constant in the universe. I have several 
forms and other information to look over concerning this house." 
'That and a nice little trip down to the coroner's office to 
really *liven* up my day,' he added to himself.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

10:40 PM

Mulder sat at the ancient desk in the study, poring over the 
assortment of papers lying before him, trying to make some 
headway through the overwhelming amount of information.

Feeling his eyes begin to glaze over, he shook himself 
awake. Scully had given up about an hour ago. The five hour plane 
trip and the time spent cleaning up the place had left them both 
exhausted. But, if he was going to look into this case tomorrow, 
he had to get a handle on some of this drudge work tonight. He 
sighed as he reached over to grab a couple of sunflower seeds and 
popped them into his mouth.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Monday, February 16, 1998
9:18 AM

Fox Mulder stepped out of the shower wrapped in a bathrobe, 
a towel covering his head as he rubbed his wet hair vigorously. 
He was startled at the sound of someone calling his name from 
outside his room. 'Scully?' he thought as he rushed outside, 
through the hallway to her room next door.

"Oh, Mulder," he heard as he entered her room. "I told you 
over and over..."

"Scully?" he called out, but stopped as soon as he spotted 
her lying in her bed. Looking closer, he saw that her eyes were 
closed. She was still asleep, and obviously having a dream.

He rushed to the side of her bed and gently shook her, even 
as she softly crooned, "Oh, Fox! Poor, poor Fox. I warned you, 
but you never listen, do you?"

His eyes widened as he listened to what she was saying. 
'What the hell is she dreaming about?' He shook her a little 
harder, raising his voice as well, "Scully, wake up."

"Hunh! What...," she stuttered as she slowly opened her 
eyes. The first thing she saw was Mulder gazing down at her, 
concern evident in his eyes.

"You ok, Scully? That must have been some dream."

"You'd better believe it," she grunted, rubbing the sleep 
out of her eyes.

"Well... what was it about?"

"It's silly, Mulder," she paused. Seeing the questioning 
look in his eyes, she sighed, "Oh, all right. I dreamt that you 
had eaten one too many sunflower seeds, and you started sprouting 
flower petals all over your face, and leaves were growing out of 
your ears. I kept telling you not to eat so many seeds, but you 
didn't listen to me." She glared at him when he broke into a 
smile.

"Like I said, Mulder, a silly dream, that's all. Say, why's 
there a towel on your head," she asked, noticing his appearance 
for the first time.

"Oh, I just got out of the shower when I heard you calling 
my name. So I..." He trailed off when he saw her eyes slowly 
widen. "What?"

She reached out and pulled the towel off his head. He saw 
her gasp, and then her eyes rolled up in her head as she fell 
back onto the bed unconscious. 'What the hell?' he thought as a 
hint of fear crept up his chest. He slowly rose and walked over 
to the vanity mirror next to the bed. What he saw chilled him to 
the bone. He saw the edges of his face adorned with bright yellow 
sunflower petals, leaves growing where his hair used to be...

He screamed as he jerked himself awake. He immediately knew 
he'd made a mistake as he felt himself falling backward. His arms 
flailed out, trying desperately to find purchase on something 
solid, but without luck. His chair fell to the ground with a 
resounding crash, pulling him down along with it.

"Mulder...?" he heard as he shook his head to clear the haze 
of sleepiness. All he could see from behind the desk was a pair 
of legs on the other side, walking toward, then around it. He 
looked up to see Scully appear around the desk, a concerned look 
on her face. She knelt down beside him. "Are you hurt? I heard a 
scream, and..."

"Just my pride, Scully," he replied sheepishly. "I must've 
fallen asleep on the desk. I had a bad dream and when I woke up 
so suddenly, I guess I fell over."

"Oh god, Mulder. You're lucky you didn't crack your skull 
open." She stood back up and looked around. "Just look at this 
mess... sunflower seeds everywhere." She snapped her gaze back to 
him. "You were eating them when you dozed off." It wasn't a 
question.

"Relax, Scully. I'll clean it up. Besides, I think I'm 
swearing off of sunflower seeds, at least for a while. After that 
dream, I don't think I can bear to eat another one."

She raised her eyebrows at that. "Must have been some dream, 
Mulder."

"You'd better believe it," he muttered. She reached down to 
give him a hand when he noticed that she was already dressed. 
When he asked her about it, she said something about needing to 
run some errands before turning around and walking out. He 
watched her walk away and turned towards his room to take a 
shower, a real one this time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mercy General Hospital, Basement, Seattle, WA
11:15 AM

He walked down the corridor, looking at the signs above each 
door, searching for the one he was looking for. He turned around 
the corner and stopped, staring ahead. Turning the far corner was 
a familiar figure. He caught the flash of red hair just before 
she disappeared from view.

'What's she doing here?' he thought frantically. He tried to 
remember what she'd told him about her plans for today. 'Of 
course, her friend, the doctor.' It stood to reason she would be 
in the hospital. 'But why in the basement. There was nothing down 
here except storerooms and...' At that moment, he reached the 
corner and, turning around it, caught sight of his partner 
pushing open the double doors that led to his destination. '... 
the morgue,' he completed his thought. 'How had she gotten wind 
of this case?' he asked himself as he watched her on the other 
side of the double doors. 'Or did she even know about it?' His 
questions were answered when he saw her open one of the small 
doors on the far wall and slide the body out. His eyes widened as 
he saw her examining the neck area. When she turned around to 
repeat the same procedure with the body in the next vault, he 
quietly pushed open the door and slid inside. Walking up behind 
her, he couldn't resist a "I vant to sach your blahd" in his best 
Count Dracula accent. He was gratified to see her jump a foot in 
the air.

"Jeez, Mulder. You scared the life out of me."

"Relax, Scully. I think he's dead." Mulder grinned as he 
poked the body lying on the stretcher next to him. He walked over 
to the cabinets lining the wall on the other side. Perching 
himself atop one, he asked, "What are you doing down here?"

"Anne's one of the MEs assigned to this case. She asked me 
and another friend for help when she saw that the police weren't 
making any headway with it. In fact, Anne should be down here any 
minute now." She turned back to examine the second body. "How 
about you, Mulder? Didn't you have some paperwork to take care 
of?" As a thought occurred to her, she turned back to him with a 
stern look in her eyes. "Don't tell me you followed me."

He feigned shock at her accusation, then smiled. "A friend 
on the local PD sent me the file to look over. To tell you the 
truth, I wasn't sure how you'd react if I told you about it. 
Imagine my surprise when you told me you were taking your 
vacation here."

"And here I was worried about your reaction. I knew what you 
would think, and I didn't want you to..." she made a sharp 
stabbing motion with her hands, "... overreact again."

"Don't worry, Scully. No one's gonna sue us this time." He 
smiled. "Although you must admit, I was right on the money last 
week. I proved that Ronnie Strickland, and damn near everyone 
else in that trailer park, was a vampire, didn't I?"

"I don't know anything about that Mulder. Like I told 
Skinner, I was drugged at the time." But she still smiled at the 
memory of finding a muddy Mulder in their rental car, frantically 
searching his neck for bite marks.

"Gee, thanks for the support," he responded sarcastically. 
He jumped off the cabinet and walked over to the body. "So what's 
the diagnosis, Dr. Scully?"

"Typical vampire *like* attacks," she replied, emphasizing 
her disbelief that it actually was a vampire. "Trademark puncture 
wounds near the jugular," she said, pointing to the neck, "and no 
blood in their bodies to speak of. I don't think..." She trailed 
off, her eyes widening.

Mulder reached his partner just in time to catch her as she 
staggered back, clutching her head as if in pain. A million 
thoughts ran through his panicked mind as he struggled to help 
her. He was relieved when she managed to stand on her own. He was 
about to ask her what happened when they were interrupted by the 
morgue doors opening. They both turned to face the two figures 
who stood in the doorway.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

11:23 AM

"She should already be in there," Dr. Anne Lindsey told the 
woman walking beside her as they approached the morgue doors. "I 
was just about to follow her when you showed up." She smiled at 
her friend. "Despite the circumstances, it'll be great to see 
both of you again. It's been way too long, Natalie."

"That it has, Anne," replied the brunette, an expectant, 
albeit tired smile on her face. She had been up most of the 
night, going over the police reports, and then helping Nick 
patrol the area. Of course, there had been no sign of the killer, 
vampire or otherwise. 'It's never that easy, is it?' That was 
part of the reason she was here at the morgue. If she could 
determine whether the killer was actually a vampire, or simply a 
killer with a sick fetish, they would be that much closer to 
stopping the murders. 'It's too bad Nick couldn't be here,' she 
thought wistfully, looking at the bright streams of sunlight 
coming through the couple of small windows high in the wall.

"I have to admit..." Anne was saying, pulling Natalie's mind 
from her thoughts, "... these killings have me at a loss to 
explain them. If I didn't know better, I'd swear someone out 
there thinks they are a vampire. I mean, can you imagine that, in 
this day and age?"

She heard her friend give a strangled chuckle, then suddenly 
tense up. Natalie's hands went into her trench coat as she warily 
glanced around. Anne's eyes widened in recognition of a familiar 
gesture. She had seen Duncan do this so many times, but Natalie? 
'Nah! It couldn't be.' They had just reached the double doors, 
and, pushing them open, they stepped inside.

Anne and Natalie looked at the two figures standing inside. 
They didn't recognize the man, but they did see their friend 
standing beside him. "Dana?" Anne ventured slowly, glancing from 
her to Natalie, then back to her. "Are you all right?"

Scully glanced around warily, echoing Natalie's earlier 
gesture. Her gaze settled on her friends, then wandered over to 
the source of the sensation. She couldn't quite explain it, but 
she was sure that Natalie was the source of the gut-wrenching 
sensation she was experiencing... although the feeling seemed 
more in control now. She'd only felt like this twice before. 
Memories of a dark parking lot, abandoned buildings, and 
lightning storms flashed through her mind as she managed a weak 
smile.

"I'm fine, Anne. I just tripped. Natalie! Hi. I didn't 
expect you in Seattle so soon." When her friends came closer, she 
turned to Mulder and met his concerned gaze. 'Not now, Mulder,' 
she pleaded silently. Aloud she said, "This is my partner, Fox 
Mulder. Mulder, Dr. Anne Lindsey and Dr. Natalie Lambert, the 
friends I've been telling you about all weekend."

Mulder wrenched his eyes away from her, but she could 
clearly read the silent promise they held. 'We'll talk about this 
later.' "Dr. Lindsey, Dr. Lambert," he smiled at them. "It's a 
pleasure to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.

"Mr. Mulder." They shook his hand. Natalie felt a slight 
tingle when she held his hand, but didn't comment on it. When she 
turned to give Scully a hug, Anne sized him up. 'Her partner? 
Certainly didn't look like it when we walked in.'

She looked at her friends, now busily studying the corpses. 
She sighed. 'This *is* what I called them for.' But she couldn't 
help feeling a little left out. They were lost in their own 
world, arguing, as always, about the possible causes of death, 
the various symptoms, and what not. She had always been the odd 
one out in this trio. She had gotten out of the forensics field 
for the same reason that these two had stayed in it. This 
fascination with pathology, this need to explain death, something 
she considered a totally natural process. It was the same reason 
she had left Duncan. She was a doctor, she saved lives, and 
although she could understand death, even try to accept it, there 
was no way she was going to embrace it as wholeheartedly as these 
two. And staying down here was certainly not helping any.

"Umm... guys? I've got some stuff I need to take care of 
upstairs. Come by when you're done, okay?" She quickly got out of 
there and headed back to the confines of her office.

Scully and Natalie smiled at each other as they turned to 
watch their friend beat a hasty retreat. "Same old Anne," Natalie 
chuckled, "corpses still give her the willies every now and 
then." Turning back to the corpse, she studied the puncture 
wounds. She heard Scully telling her all the reasons why this was 
obviously the work of a deranged serial killer, but closer 
examination only confirmed what she had thought earlier. She 
adjusted her trench coat, thinking about what she saw. There was 
no doubt about it, this was a vampire attack. She realized that 
she was actually surprised. She had expected the killer to be a 
normal mortal... after all, vampires hardly ever left evidence 
lying around like this. For this many bodies to be showing up so 
suddenly, she thought, there would have to be a whole slew of 
vampires descending on the city.

Mulder watched the interaction of the two doctors in front 
of him. He heard Scully give a point by point analysis of the 
cause and conditions of death, the killer's motives, and other 
related facts. He also saw the look in her friend's eyes and 
realized something. 'She's not buying it.' He saw the brunette 
silently nod at Scully, apparently going along with her analysis, 
but every piece of his psychological training told him... 
screamed at him... that she didn't believe a word Scully was 
saying. He saw her lean in to give the neck area a closer look, 
and his eyes widened at the soft clang he heard. His thoughts 
flew back to the moments just before Scully's friends had 
entered. He'd only seen Scully react that way once before. Images 
of severed heads and lightning storms immediately came to mind. 
Nor had he missed the look his partner had given Natalie when she 
walked in the door. His eyes narrowed as they followed the 
outline of her trench coat. She was still leaning against the 
body tray, and there was something about the way the coat lay 
there, as if there were... he drew in a startled breath. 'Of 
course...'

"You're an immortal."

The conversation abruptly stopped. Both the women swung 
their heads to look at him, Scully with her mouth hanging open, 
and Dr. Lambert pinning him with a startled gaze.

'Whoops.' He hadn't meant to voice his thoughts out loud, 
but now there was no turning back. "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

"Mulder..." Scully's voice held a warning tone.

Natalie let out a soft sigh. "How'd you know?" she asked, 
trying to figure out what had given her away. 'Well,' she thought 
in consolation, 'at least I won't have to pretend with Dana if he 
knows.'

"Natalie, you can't be serious." Scully couldn't believe 
that her friend had even heard of immortality, let alone 
accepting it easily enough to discuss it with others.

"He obviously knows about us, Dana," she began, then frowned 
when she saw the expression on her friend's face. It was almost 
as if Dana herself didn't know about it. A thought occurred to 
her as she remembered the scene when she walked in. She recalled 
seeing her friend looking around nervously, but with more 
confusion than was to be expected. Suddenly Duncan's words 
flashed across her mind...

"Sometimes it's harder on the new ones who don't have anyone 
to mentor them. At least I was around for you when you woke up. 
Some don't find out until it's too late."

Her eyes widened as she realized that Dana really had no 
idea who, or rather what, she was. But, if she didn't, how had 
her partner found out? She was going to have a long talk with 
these two. 'Might as well get started...'

"Did you feel a sudden, strange sensation just before I 
walked in here?" When she nodded, Natalie continued, "I felt it 
too. It's how we know when another one of us is close by."

"Us?"

"Dana, you and I, we're both immortals. And from what your 
partner said, it sounds as if you two already know something 
about it. But, obviously, not everything. So how about this? You 
tell me what you know, and I'll try to fill in the gaps."

Scully looked from Natalie to Mulder, then let out a breath 
as she decided what to tell her.

"Scully," Mulder began, "you knew this would come up sooner 
or later. And now, we have someone here who can explain this to 
us willingly."

"All right, Mulder." She moved away from them and began to 
pace. "It began when I accidentally cut my palm in the kitchen. 
Mulder was there when it happened, when it healed." She paused. 
Even talking about it after all this time, she couldn't help the 
feeling of wonder and fear that always accompanied the thought. 
As a doctor, she knew such things were simply not possible. But 
being Mulder's partner and an agent in the X-files division had 
taught her to view even the impossible with some degree of faith. 
She went on to recount the various tests she'd performed while 
trying to solve a particularly gruesome case the month before.

She stopped pacing when she saw Natalie smile. "It looks 
like you've done more tests on yourself in the past month than 
I've done in the past year. And believe me, I've been through 
several of the ones you've described."

"I had to find a way to explain it, Nat..."

"You don't have to justify it to me, Dana. I know exactly 
how you feel. I felt the same thing when I found out."

Scully nodded, then went on to relate the events that led to 
her confronting the killer in the old house. When she got to the 
part about getting stabbed, she felt Mulder come up behind her 
and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She knew that the 
comfort was meant for him as much as it was for her. He had 
thought that he'd lost her that night. She still remembered the 
tight hug she'd found herself in when she had regained 
consciousness. It had felt so safe, so right, so... and then she 
had seen the killer wake up and walk forward, sword in hand. She 
had done the only thing she could think of. She shot him, right 
over Mulder's shoulder. The clinical doctor in her considered the 
possibility that Mulder may have gone deaf from the nearness of 
the shot, but any further attempt at coherent thought had been 
brought to a grinding halt when she'd felt it. She didn't know 
quite how to explain it to Natalie, but she saw that her friend 
understood. How do you explain joy beyond your wildest dreams, 
intermixed with sorrow unimaginable in your most horrific 
nightmare? She shuddered as she explained about Jonathan Summers, 
the killer, and finding him nearly decapitated by one of the 
metal spikes on the railing surrounding the house. "And that's 
how I found out about it," she finished.

"But that still doesn't explain how you knew there were more 
of us out there. You and Summers could have been two of a kind, 
for all you knew," Natalie asked.

"I think I can explain that," Mulder chimed in. "I called in 
a favor from an anthropology professor of mine. He had some 
information on a group of people who recorded immortal activity 
throughout history. Most of it was pretty vague, and didn't 
mention anything in detail, but it was enough to clue us in on 
the longevity of some of the observees. But that's about all we 
know."

Now it was Natalie's turn to stare. A group of people who 
not only had knowledge of immortals, but also recorded their 
activities? She wasn't sure she liked the idea of her life story 
ending up in a chronicle in a library somewhere. She needed to 
talk to Duncan about this. And she needed to introduce Dana 
Scully to him. She herself had been immortal for barely a couple 
of years, and she just didn't have the 'qualifications' necessary 
to take on the responsibility of training a new one. But for now, 
there was one piece of information Dana had not mentioned. She 
had said something about swords, but obviously didn't know what 
they were really used for. And explaining that was going to be 
the hard part. At least it had been for her.

"Dana, you said Summers had a sword. Do you know why?"

"Apparently immortals heal too quickly to die using 
conventional means. From what I could figure out, our one 
vulnerable spot seems to be in the neck area, somewhere between 
the third and fourth vertebrae. I assume he was using it to make 
sure that if he had to kill an immortal, he could make sure that 
they would stay dead permanently."

"Well," she began, trying to find the right words, "that's 
only part of the reason. I think I know how Mr. Mulder knew I was 
an immortal." She turned to Mulder and raised an eyebrow in 
question.

Mulder understood what she was referring to. "Actually, I 
kinda suspected when I noticed your reactions to each other. But, 
yes, the sword confirmed it."

"Sword?" Scully asked in confusion. She hadn't seen evidence 
of any swords.

"I don't think the good doctor's coat is for purely 
aesthetic purposes, Scully," replied Mulder as they saw Natalie 
reach into it. Scully was shocked when, holding the coat open 
with one hand, Natalie smoothly pulled out a gleaming blade at 
least a couple of feet long. Even Mulder, who had been expecting 
something like this, was taken aback at the way the blade was so 
easily hidden inside the coat. If it hadn't been for the small 
sound it had made when it hit the metal of the tray, he would 
never have guessed as to it's existence. He looked up from the 
glare of the overhead lights reflecting off the shining steel to 
listen to what Natalie was saying.

"All of us carry one of these, Dana. It's how we live." At 
her friend's incredulous look, she tried to elaborate. "There are 
certain rules that all immortals have to adhere to. That night 
when Summers was decapitated, you remember what you said you 
felt? That was his quickening, his life essence. You probably 
came away with fleeting impressions of his life... memories, 
sensations, feelings, and mainly experiences." She saw her friend 
nod, and, putting her sword back inside her coat, she continued, 
"Well, that's what happens when one of us dies. His or her 
quickening is released, all that power, all that knowledge, in 
one massive discharge. And it goes to the nearest immortal. The 
older the immortal, the more powerful the quickening. The only 
way for an immortal to receive one is to kill another. And... one 
of the rules is that, in the end, there can be only one."

"One what?" Mulder asked, not sure he would like the answer. 
He saw Scully's eyes widen in horror.

"Immortal, Mulder. One immortal. Isn't that what you're 
saying, Natalie? There can only be one immortal left in the end?" 
Her voice held all the disgust and disbelief that Mulder felt. 
"What would you have me do, Nat? Get a sword and chop off the 
heads of all the immortals I meet? What about you?"

"It's what we do, Dana. I know it's hard to understand right 
now, but I went through the same thing when I changed. But, as my 
teacher used to say, denial can only hasten your death. You need 
to be taught how to use one of these. You need to know for when 
you're challenged by another immortal, because our fights are to 
the death... real, permanent death," she finished in a hushed 
voice.

"I refuse," Scully shouted back at her. "There is no way..."

"Dammit, Dana. Aren't you listening to me? You don't have a 
choice. You may not want to fight. You don't even have to go out 
looking for them. But there will be others who will want to kill 
you. You have to be prepared to fight them." She shrugged. "Think 
of it as self defense, in a broader sense. Besides, can you 
imagine what would happen if someone like Summers wound up being 
the last one. All that knowledge, all that power... well, you 
know what they say about absolute power." She saw Dana nod, but 
knew the indecision was far from resolved. She briefly wondered 
if it ever would be. Even after two years, she still felt 
disturbed at the thought of killing with such impunity.

Mulder looked from his partner to her friend, and decided to 
intervene. He realized that Scully needed time to process this, 
and he intended to give her all the space she needed. "I have a 
few questions for you, Dr. Lambert."

"Call me Natalie, Mr. Mulder. I think we're slightly past 
the stage of using last names."

"Okay, but I would appreciate you calling me Mulder. I'm not 
that enamoured with my first name." When she nodded, he 
continued, "You mentioned before that you changed. Does that mean 
that you weren't always... immortal?"

"Uh-huh. Immortals aren't born this way. We are like normal 
mortals... we get hurt, we age... just like them. An immortal 
gains his power when he or she dies for the first time. It sort 
of jump starts one's immortality, for lack of a better term." She 
saw both partners smile at that.

"For me, it happened a couple of years ago. A friend of mine 
in the police department was pursuing a serial killer who left 
behind a string of beheaded corpses. When we finally caught up 
with the killer, he managed to get out of the prison, take me and 
a couple of others hostage, and escape. Luckily for me, we were 
saved by Duncan MacLeod, another immortal who had pursued our 
killer up to Toronto. He managed to get us all out, but not 
before I was run through with the killer's sword. It was hell, 
convincing the other hostages that I wasn't seriously hurt, 
although, I must confess, I was *dead* for most of that. Duncan 
finally managed to persuade them."

She smiled at that. More like Nick had finally managed to 
persuade them. Duncan's and her immortality hadn't been the only 
secret revealed that night. Duncan had certainly gotten an eyeful 
when Nick had flung their killer over ten yards away in fury. "He 
stayed with me and my friend until I woke up, then proceeded to 
give me the same speech I just gave you two. He was the one who 
trained me to use a sword. In fact, he lives right here in 
Seattle. I was planning on taking you two over there later today. 
I'm not good enough with the sword to teach you, Dana. But he's 
got over 400 years of experience, and he can teach you everything 
you need to know." Now it was her turn to smile at the amazed 
look on their faces when she mentioned his age. "Besides," she 
continued, "I don't have a collection of swords lying around to 
give you one, and they don't exactly grow on trees. The one I 
have is at least as old as Duncan, and pretty valuable, from what 
he tells me. It belonged to the killer I was telling you about."

Mulder nodded, then asked, "Another thing, Natalie. You 
mentioned certain rules that immortals live by. What else is 
there, other than that first one?"

"There are only a couple of others. I'm not even sure if 
these rules are set in stone, or whether an early immortal made 
them up to explain his own immortality. But one rule is that all 
fights are one on one. No one else, immortal or otherwise, can 
interfere once a challenge is issued. Although, MacLeod has 
mentioned some who have broken this rule, using guns and 
bodyguards to 'kill' their opponents temporarily before finishing 
them off for real. And the final rule, something not even the 
most evil among us has ever dared to break, is that you can't 
fight on holy ground. And that includes churches, cemetaries, 
mosques, Indian shrines, anything that's been consecrated. It's a 
refuge against other immortals. I have no idea what would happen 
if we did fight on holy ground, but some legends say that the 
last time it happened, it caused the eruption at Mt. Vesuvius." 
She broke off, seeing the looks of disbelief she was getting. 
With a chuckle, she said, "Hey, I never said I believed it. I'm 
just telling you what Duncan told me, and what I'm sure he was 
told by someone else. One thing about immortality... gossip and 
rumor take on a new meaning when word of mouth can go on for 
decades, or even centuries."

"I wonder what would happen if an immortal changed when they 
were really young," Mulder asked, "or when they were really old. 
I mean, dying at just the right time in your life seems a bit 
convenient to me."

"What makes you think that doesn't happen? But those who do 
don't usually last too long. They would be fair game to the first 
immortal who came along. There have been people Duncan has told 
me about, an immortal who was retarded before he changed, and one 
in particular, a boy who changed when he was ten. This boy, 
Kenny, apparently uses an innocent little boy act to win the 
protection of unsuspecting immortals, then kills them when their 
backs are turned. He's almost twice as old as Duncan, but hasn't 
fought a fair fight in his life."

"I'm not sure if I should be appalled, or if I should feel 
sorry for him. A ten year old can hardly be expected to put up a 
fair fight." Mulder tried to imagine life in Kenny's shoes, and 
found that he wouldn't wish a fate like that on anyone.

"I know exactly what you mean," Natalie answered.

"And I think I've had just about enough of this," Scully cut 
in. She had been quiet all through this little exchange between 
her two friends, but was starting to get nervous again. She felt 
like she needed a breath of fresh air. "I think I'm going to go 
upstairs and talk to Anne, and then maybe grab some lunch." With 
that, she strode past them and walked out the door with a final 
"You guys coming?"

Mulder and Natalie looked at each other. Shrugging, they 
pushed the body trays in, closed the doors, and turned to follow 
her.

"You don't believe her, do you?" Mulder asked Natalie 
quietly. Scully was still far enough ahead of them that she 
couldn't hear his comment. He saw the brunette glance at him with 
a questioning look. "About the killings, I mean," he explained.

"You are either psychic, Mulder, or very perceptive. I think 
Dana has found herself an excellent partner. By the way, are you 
two...?"

"No, we're not." Mulder smiled at her. "And you, my dear Dr. 
Lambert, are trying to change the subject. You don't have to hide 
it from me. I know that was a vampire attack. I believe that just 
as much as Scully disbelieves it. Through my work, I've seen 
enough to acknowledge that vampires do exist. Hell, I was almost 
brought across by one." He flinched as memories of a dark 
building in LA swam across his mind, memories of Kristen... He 
pushed the unsettling thoughts away, only to replace them with 
memories of a few nights ago, alone in a trailer park, being 
attacked by a mob of vampires. The images of those glowing eyes 
would haunt him for a while, he was sure.

They caught up to Scully waiting for the elevator. Each of 
them looked at the other, silently deciding to table the 
discussion for now.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Alleyway next to Joe's bar
4:55 PM

Fox Mulder kneeled down beside the police tape, looking at 
the dark spot that stained the ground. This was the site of the 
last murder. And just like all the others, except for the 
bloodstains on the ground and the wall, there were no indications 
that anything untoward had occurred here. No signs of any kind of 
struggle, no fingerprints, nothing. Whoever, or whatever, the 
killer was, he or she had been quick, and clean, and very 
efficient. There was simply no evidence whatsoever to go on. No 
wonder the police were stumped. The only pattern that emerged was 

the secluded setting, as if the killer were waiting in ambush. 
And in a city replete with alleyways and out of the way spots, 
there was no way the police could patrol the entire area.

He sighed and stood up, taking a look around. Spotting the 
entrance to the bar, he headed towards it, thinking about how he 
had spent his day. After a brief lunch with Scully and her 
friends, he saw that they were all set for an afternoon of girl 
talk. And, much as he would have loved to chat about Scully's 
'formative years', he had no desire to do so in front of her, nor 
did he want to hear about former boyfriends and college gossip. 
He'd gotten out of there as quickly as he could after getting 
MacLeod's address from Natalie. Apparently, he owned a dojo 
nearby, and Mulder had promised to meet Natalie and Scully there 
at 5:30.

He had spent the past four hours driving all over the city, 
from one crime scene to the next. All the killings seemed to be 
confined to the waterfront district, but that still left a lot of 
ground to cover. Every single site looked pretty much the same... 
secluded, and with no discernable clues to go on.

But the drive had also given him time to think about what 
Natalie had told them in the morgue, about Scully's immortality, 
and its implications. He thought about the more immediate 
consequences. Obviously, she would have to leave the Bureau in a 
few years, a decade at the most, before people started noticing 
that she wasn't getting any older. When the time came, he asked 
himself if he would leave with her, if he even could. If he was 
still unsuccessful in his quest for the truth, his search for his 
sister, would he willingly give them up to be with her? They 
would have to go into hiding, change identities...

Of course, all this was moot if he didn't tell her how he 
felt about her. Did he love her? 'Yes,' he answered himself 
vehemently and with conviction. But he wasn't sure he could tell 
her that, not after today. Before, it had been pure speculation 
on their part about her immortality. Today, they had gotten 
confirmation. And suddenly, it wasn't speculation anymore, 
something that could be relegated to the realm of fantasy. It was 
real. She would be young forever, while he grew old, and 
eventually died. Could he handle that... the knowledge that she 
would move on after him? And even if she had any interest in him 
before, would she want to be burdened down with a senior citizen 
while she was, for all intents and purposes, in the prime of her 
life?

'No,' he told himself. He had no right to make that decision 
for her. She would have to make the first move, if she wanted to. 
For a brief moment, the thought that he already *was* making the 
decision for her, by keeping his feelings hidden, crossed his 
mind. But he quickly squashed that thought... he was making the 
right choice, he told himself. But he was still a long way from 
totally convincing himself of that.

He sighed as he paused outside the door to the bar. Taking a 
deep breath, he pulled open the door and stepped inside, pushing 
the unresolved dilemma out of his mind for now. It wasn't like he 
was going to run out of time anytime soon. For now, he 
concentrated on the figure standing behind the bar, a stocky man 
in his fifties. His back was turned to Mulder as he arranged the 
bottles on the shelves behind the bar. Hearing the door, he 
turned around.

"We're closed, pal."

"I know. I'm Special Agent Mulder with the FBI, and I'm 
looking into the murders you seem to be having. I'm looking for 
one of the witnesses in the most recent killing... one Joseph 
Dawson."

"I'm Joe. I wasn't aware that this had become a federal 
case." He frowned as he watched the man walk toward the bar. He 
reached beneath the counter to pick up a towel to wipe the 
countertop.

"The police haven't requested federal assistance yet. I'm 
looking into the case in an unofficial capacity as a favor. Do 
you have a problem with that?"

"No. But I'm afraid you're wasting your time. Like I told 
the police, I didn't see anything until after the body was found, 
by a couple of friends of mine, actually. I was in here, and I 
didn't hear anything outside. But, I'm not surprised. The alley's 
pretty deserted, and it was kinda loud in here."

Mulder watching the older man wipe the countertop when he 
noticed something that made his breath catch. Dawson's shirt 
sleeve was pulled back, and on the inside of his left wrist was 
something he had not seen for a while now. A tattoo that looked a 
lot like a Mercedes Benz symbol. He suddenly recalled the name of 
one of the people who had actually found the last body... Duncan 
MacLeod! He had wondered at the coincidence when he first read 
the report. And Dawson had just called MacLeod his friend. On a 
hunch, he asked, "Are you MacLeod's Watcher?" He couldn't hold 
back a smile when he saw Dawson stop wiping the counter and look 
up at him in surprise.

"I think I'm going to have to ask to see your ID, Mr. 
Mulder," he said, his eyes narrowing.

When Mulder fished it out of his pocket and showed it to 
him, Joe Dawson looked at it intently. The name seemed familiar, 
but he couldn't quite place it. His thoughts ran back to some of 
the reports he had read in the past month. Although he frequently 
made trips to Paris to keep tabs on Duncan, he still kept abreast 
of any news back home. And the name 'Fox Mulder' rang a bell. He 
frowned as he tried to recall where he'd read it... something 
about a rash of murders of young children along the east coast. 
Young immortals, he amended as he finally remembered the details 
of that one particularly gruesome report. "Jonathan Summers," he 
whispered. "You're one of the people who caught him, aren't you?"

"Caught is a relative term, Mr. Dawson." Mulder couldn't 
help a wry grin as he remembered how they had finally *caught* 
the man. "Unfortunately, before we could arrest him, he decided 
to get a severe case of missing neck syndrome."

"I've never heard it put quite that way before." Joe gave 
Mulder a small smile before turning serious. "I'm not sure how 
much you know, Agent Mulder, but, like Mary Rogers told you, it 
really is none of your business. And, as I told you earlier, I 
can't help you with these murders either."

Mulder sighed as he looked at his watch. Dawson was right, 
he didn't think he would get any more answers here, at least not 
relating to the vampire killings anyway. Besides, it was almost 
time for that appointment at MacLeod's anyway. He thanked Joe 
Dawson and turned to leave.

Joe looked at Mulder until he walked out the door, then 
reached over for the phone and dialed a familiar number.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Natalie Lambert's car, en route to DeSalvo's Gym
5:18 PM

Dana Scully sat in the passenger seat, looking out the 
window at the scenery. But the sight didn't really register in 
her mind. Until now, she had kept herself busy by talking with 
her friends about college and their lives since then. After 
listening to Anne and Nat talk about what they had been doing 
since med school, she told them about joining the FBI Academy, 
teaching and eventually joining Mulder on the X-files. She had 
glossed over some of the more bizarre elements of some of the 
cases she had been involved in, but she had managed to spend the 
entire afternoon without a single thought about what she and 
Mulder had discussed with Nat in the morgue.

Now, after saying goodbye to Anne and promising to come by 
her house the next day for dinner, she and Natalie were on their 
way to MacLeod's dojo. However, she couldn't help feeling a sense 
of dread at the meeting. For some reason, seeing MacLeod, an 
immortal who was going to be her teacher, seemed like another 
brick being cemented on a wall that already existed between her 
and Mulder.

She thought about what her mother had asked her to do just 
two days ago. When she asked Dana if she loved Mulder, she hadn't 
answered her, but her heart had screamed her assent. The only 
obstacles standing in her way had been the Bureau's unwritten 
policy prohibiting relationships among partners, and more 
importantly, Mulder's reaction if she told him. She couldn't care 
less about the Bureau, but she didn't know if she could cope as 
easily if Mulder didn't feel the same way about her. She didn't 
want to destroy the best friendship she had ever had in hopes of 
gaining something she was so unsure of.

And now, there was one more reason for Mulder to not want to 
pursue a relationship with her. She didn't know how he felt about 
what Natalie had told them that morning in the morgue. He'd left 
after lunch with some hasty excuse about wanting to avoid all the 
girltalk and wanting to check out the crime scenes. But she got 
the distinct impression that he wanted some time alone to sort 
through this information and how it would affect their 
partnership, and their friendship. And although she thought she 
could have come to terms with it if he didn't feel the same way 
about her, she did not want him to resent her because of what 
Natalie had said. Even if he did have feelings for her before, 
she wasn't sure that he wouldn't come to hate her for not being 
able to grow old with him. The thought itself was a daunting 
one... eternal youth, immortality. She had thought about it 
before, but then it had seemed a fantasy, an idea. Now it was a 
fact, as real as her cancer had been, as real as the subsequent 
cure.

She briefly wondered if such a thing was even possible, a 
relationship between an immortal and a mortal. From what Natalie 
had said, immortals had been around for a couple of millennia at 
the very least. Surely something like this could not have been 
unheard of in all that time. She desperately wanted to ask Nat 
about this, but she didn't know how to go about doing so without 
revealing her feelings for Mulder at the same time. But, as she 
considered it, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Turning to her 
friend, she asked, "Nat?" She saw her answer with a quick glance 
before turning her attention back to the road. "You said that 
immortals have hidden their existence throughout history. Do you 
know why? I mean, why all the secrecy?"

Natalie was silent for a few minutes as she thought about 
how best to answer Dana. "Duncan told me several horror stories 
about witch hunts he witnessed, back when that sort of thing was 
commonplace. Although he himself was lucky enough not to become 
the object of these hunts, he lost some good friends to them. 
Today, there is even more danger, if word of our existence were 
to become common knowledge. Think about it, Dana. Those tests you 
said you performed on yourself... they weren't all that pleasant 
to endure, but at least you had a choice in conducting them. Can 
you imagine the kind of experiments we'd be subjected to if the 
government or the general public got wind of us." She trailed off 
when she saw the knowing look on her friend's face. "Something 
tells me you already know about the kinds of horrors we face."

Dana nodded. With a sigh, she replied, "In my line of work, 
I've seen and heard of more acts of atrocity committed by 
supposedly benevolent governments than you could possibly 
imagine. I've heard of experiments that would be immoral, 
unethical, and inhumane if performed on immortals, let alone the 
mortals they actually were conducted on. I, myself, have..." She 
stopped, not wanting to divulge what she feared had been done to 
her, not even to her close friend. According to Natalie, 
immortality was a natural process, another path in the inevitable 
course of evolution. But Dana suspected strongly that her 
immortality was anything but natural. She had no doubt that she 
had been given this 'condition'... curse was probably a more 
appropriate term... by the same people who had abducted her 
nearly three and a half years ago, and stolen almost three months 
of her life.

When she saw that her friend had grown unusually quiet, 
Natalie prodded, "What are you thinking about, Dana? Why are we 
talking about this?"

Dana looked at her friend as she realized with a start that 
she'd gotten off the track from what she had really wanted to 
ask. "Well, it's just that, if immortality is such a secret, I 
was wondering why you told Mulder about it. I mean, you could 
just as easily have warded off his questions and talked to me 
alone later."

Natalie smiled at the question. "You were always the most 
perceptive one of us, Dana. You and Mulder make a good team. 
Actually, there are a couple of reasons why I included him in our 
discussion. Although I said that we liked to keep our existence a 
secret, there have been certain non-immortals whom we have 
confided in through the centuries... close friends, spouses, 
lovers... people we could trust to keep our secret. You do trust 
Mulder, don't you, Dana?" She saw her friend nod and answer in a 
hushed but determined voice, "With my life."

"Nick, the friend I told you was with me and Duncan when I 
'woke' up, he found out because he was there when it happened. 
But, even otherwise, I would have told him. You see, I trust him 
as much as you do Mulder... and I also love him," she finished 
quietly. Catching her friend's glance, she blushed, "I didn't 
think it would be so hard to tell him. I just wish I could have 
gotten the courage to say that to him face to face a long time 
ago."

Dana smiled at that. And here, she thought *she* was the one 
having trouble expressing *her* feelings. It seemed that hiding 
one's true feelings was a universal trait. "So there have been 
other immortal-mortal couples before?" Now that Natalie had 
brought the subject up, it seemed like a safe question to ask.

When Natalie heard this, however, she gave herself a silent 
pat on the back. She had suspected that this was where this 
entire conversation had been headed from the beginning. It was 
obvious that Dana was dying to ask this question, although she 
tried to hide it behind an air of simple curiosity. And if she 
had to admit her feelings for Nick in order to get Dana to open 
up, well, it was the least she could do. Dana seemed more in 
denial than she herself had been. She had already confessed her 
feelings for Nick a while back. But looking back a year or so, 
she could easily picture herself in Dana's shoes. She'd had the 
same fears, the same doubts. In answer to her question, Natalie 
nodded, "Yup. As long as there have been immortals."

"But what about the differences? One ages while the other 
stays eternally young. Doesn't the mortal ever resent it that 
he... or she... will grow old and die while the other will 
eventually move on?"

"Dana...," Natalie replied quietly, "sometimes that's 
exactly what happens. Some mortals can't handle it. But others 
can. If it's true love, he can... he *will* look past the 
differences to see the person behind the immortal, the real you. 
You'll never know until you tell him, trust me on this one." 
'Although, you won't have to worry about that if what I suspect 
is true,' she added silently.

Dana nodded, looking down at her lap as she tried to process 
this. Suddenly she realized something about the way Nat had said 
that last part, as if she were directing the comment right at 
her. 'Nah! I'm not that transparent, am I?' She refused to 
consider that thought. What her friend had told her was simply 
what she herself had gone through, and was in no way meant as 
advice. Instead, she said, "You mentioned a couple of reasons you 
decided to tell Mulder?"

Natalie shook her head. 'God, Dana. You're even more 
stubborn than I was.' Aloud she said, "Yes, I did, didn't I? And 
the other reason, I'm 99.9% sure of. But I want to talk to 
Duncan, and have Mulder meet him, or rather have Duncan meet 
Mulder, before I tell you." She slowed down, pointing through the 
windshield. "We're here," she said, stopping the car.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

DeSalvo's Gym
5:27 PM

The stillness inside the dojo was interrupted by the swish 
of the staff as it sliced through the air. Standing in the center 
of the room, Duncan MacLeod performed an exercise he'd done a 
hundred times before as he thought about the phone call he'd 
received from Joe less than a half hour ago. If a federal agent 
knew of immortals and Watchers, he could only guess at the kind 
of trouble he could stir up. He doubted that this Fox Mulder Joe 
had mentioned was an immortal. According to the Watchers, he 
wasn't... they had no records on him. Still there was the 
possibility that he was a new one, someone the Watchers hadn't 
managed to catch on to yet. But how had he found out about them?

He mentally reviewed what Joe had told him about the case in 
DC. Apparently, an immortal had gone mad and had begun butchering 
children... pre-immortals... along the east coast. He had finally 
been stopped in DC by a couple of federal agents, one of whom was 
this Fox Mulder. Unfortunately, before they could do so, he had 
managed to kill his Watcher, so now they had no idea exactly what 
had happened. The one thing that they were sure of was that the 
immortal had not been beheaded. His death was an accident... 
apparently he'd fallen out a window and impaled his neck on an 
iron spike, killing him instantly. The only witnesses, the two 
federal agents, hadn't mentioned anything untoward in their 
report, as far as the Watcher contacts in the FBI could make out. 
And Joe *had* warned him that he could expect a visit from said 
agent in the near future...

He stopped his exercise when he felt their presence, two of 
them, and swung around to face the door . He waited for whoever 
it was to walk into the dojo. When he saw who it was, his face 
broke into a smile. "Natalie! It's good to see you. Nick called 
to say you might be coming by. He said he'd be over as soon as... 
umm... weather permits." He saw her nod, then paused when he saw 
her companion looking at him nervously. He raised a questioning 
look at Natalie.

"Dana Scully, meet Duncan MacLeod. Duncan, Dana."

Duncan's eyes widened when he heard the redhead's name. 'Now 
that sounds really familiar,' he thought. Hadn't Joe mentioned... 
"You don't, by any chance, happen to work for the FBI, do you?"

Now it was Dana's turn to be surprised. "Yes, as a matter of 
fact, I do. How'd you know?"

Duncan smiled and motioned them towards the back of the 
dojo. "I just got a call from a friend who said that your partner 
was there asking some uncomfortable questions about immortals. We 
were wondering how he knew so much about us. I guess that's one 
mystery solved," he said as they walked toward the elevator.

"Yup, that's Mulder alright. Actually, he's supposed to be 
here any minute now. I wonder what's keeping him," Dana replied 
just as they heard a car pull up outside. "That's probably him 
now."

While they waited for Mulder to come in, Natalie asked, 
"Duncan, how long are you planning on staying in Seattle?"

"For a while. Why?"

"Because Dana here is a new immortal. I've told her most of 
the basics, but I was wondering..."

"... if I would teach her," he finished. "I would be happy 
to take you on as a student, Dana, if that's what you want."

"I...," Dana began, but was interrupted by Natalie, "She 
wants! And, I want you to meet her partner and tell me if what I 
suspect is correct." Dana looked at her friend in confusion, but 
before she could ask what she meant, she saw the dojo doors open 
and her partner walk in.

"Sorry I'm late," Mulder said, walking up to the trio. 
"Scully, Natalie," he nodded at the women, then extended his hand 
towards Duncan. "You must be Duncan MacLeod. I'm Fox Mulder."

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Mulder."

"Please, Mulder. Every time I hear Mr. Mulder, I expect to 
see my father standing behind me."

"Okay," Duncan smiled, "Mulder." His eyes widened as he 
shook Mulder's hand. He looked over at Natalie and nodded in 
silent confirmation.

Dana noted this silent exchange, but decided not to pursue 
it when Nat laid a hand on her wrist, mouthing a quiet "Later" at 
her. They got into the elevator and moved upstairs.

Once they were settled into the living room, Natalie asked 
something that had been bugging her since that morning, "Duncan, 
did you know that there's a group of mortals that knows about us 
and records our activities? Mulder was telling me about them 
earlier today. That's how he found out about immortals... from 
some of the accounts they left behind." Her eyes narrowed when 
she heard him sigh. "You knew? And you didn't tell me?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell, Nat. You, of all people, 
should know how that works. Besides, they never interfere in our 
affairs, only record them. Imagine what they've seen, Nat. A 
record of history as it happened, written down with first hand 
knowledge by mortals who were there when it happened. An 
objective record for future generations, long after most of us 
are dead, something to preserve our memory. Personally, I think 
that what they do is important. And I would appreciate it if none 
of you talked about this to anyone else." He saw each of them 
grudgingly nod. "Now that that's settled," he went on cheerfully, 
"what say we find a sword for you, Dana." He got up and walked 
over to the chest that lay against the far wall.

"Already?" Dana protested. "But it's so soon."

"You have to start training as soon as possible. It's 
already been too long. Natalie told you about the rules of the 
game, didn't she? Imagine what your chances would have been with 
that immortal you faced last month if it had been a fair fight. 
That you won was sheer accident, and not something that's likely 
to ever happen again."

"Last month? How'd you know about that? We didn't mention 
anything about the quickening in the report, which, by the way, 
is confidential government property. How'd you gain access to it 
anyway?"

"I have my sources," MacLeod shrugged. "Besides, hearing 
about how he died and seeing as how you were on the scene, it 
wasn't that hard to put two and two together." He saw Mulder and 
Scully walk over to where he knelt, rummaging through the 
impressive array of weapons he kept in the chest. Pushing aside 
most of the swords, spears, staffs and other weapons that lay in 
there, he reached for one sword that lay to the side. Grasping 
it, he felt around near the corner of the chest and brought out a 
strange looking clip, with a hook and a circular grip attached to 
it. Turning to Scully, he asked, "I assume your coat has an inner 
pocket?" When she nodded, he asked her to put it on and hold it 
open. Reaching into it, he placed the clip on the pocket and then 
gently slid the sword into the grip. "You can use that to hold 
your sword for now. Later, if you want, you can have a permanent 
scabbard sewn in." He watched her pull the coat closed, then 
stepped back to give her a once over. What he saw made him smile.

"What?"

"Scully," Mulder smirked, "I really don't think that sword's 
the one for you." His smirk widened into a full fledged grin as 
he pointed towards her feet. She looked down and saw the tip of 
the sword sticking out of the bottom of her coat.

"Just as I thought. Even that one's way too long. Here, try 
this one," he said, reaching into the chest to pull out another 
sword. "It's one of my shortest ones. I hear it once belonged to 
Joan of Arc." He laughed when he saw her eyes widen at hearing 
the former owner's name.

Dana gulped as she realized what she held in her hand, a 
true piece of history. "I can't take this, Duncan. It's much too 
valuable. It belongs in a museum somewhere."

"Relax Dana. If all such swords belonged in museums, then no 
immortal would have one. It's nearly impossible to find one of us 
who has a sword newer than a couple of centuries. Besides, it's 
not like you have much in the way of choice here. It's either 
this one, or the axe," he said, pointing to one of the monstrous 
looking battle axes lying in the chest. "It's a lot shorter, but 
I doubt you could even heft it, let alone fight with it. Consider 
it a gift, a beautiful sword for a beautiful lady."

Scully blushed as she gingerly placed the sword inside her 
coat. She closed it and looked at herself in the full length 
mirror next to the chest. 'Amazing,' she thought. 'It's totally 
invisible. If I hadn't actually put it there myself, there's no 
way I'd believe there was a sword inside.' "Thank you, Duncan," 
she said, opening her coat to look at it again. "It's beautiful."

"You're welcome. Just be careful when sitting down," he 
warned. "Take it from a guy with experience. It is *not* pleasant 
to have three feet of steel go through your thigh just when 
you're sitting down for dinner." That brought a chuckle from all 
three of his guests. "And beware of metal detectors," he added.

"Well, that's one advantage of being in the FBI, I guess," 
Mulder said. "Most places, we just go around the detectors." When 
he saw Natalie's questioning look, he explained, "It's against 
Bureau regulations for an agent to be separated from his weapon. 
So usually we just flash our badges and bypass the detectors to 
avoid the hassle." Mulder paused, thinking about it for a moment. 
"Hey, MacLeod? What do *you* do when you have to go through the 
detectors?"

"Like I said, I try to avoid them whenever possible," he 
shrugged. "On plane trips, I sometimes check my sword in as an 
antique. It certainly qualifies as one, and I am a licensed 
dealer. Most other places... well, there are always ways around 
them."

Mulder simply nodded, not sure *if* he wanted to know these 
'ways'. He walked over to one of the shelves next to the kitchen 
alcove, looking at the pictures. He stopped when he reached a 
familiar one. "Hey, you know Anne?" The photo showed Duncan with 
his arms around Dr. Lindsey, holding a baby in her arms. He 
turned to see both Scully and Natalie staring at Duncan in 
surprise.

"Yeah. We used to go out a couple of years ago. How do you 
know her?"

"Actually, I only met her today," Mulder confessed. 
"Apparently, she, Scully, and Natalie went to college together."

"Hmm... small world. When she told me she'd invited a couple 
of college friends to Seattle, I didn't expect this."

"Tell me about it." Mulder picked up the photo. "Cute kid," 
he remarked. "Yours?" he asked MacLeod.

A look of surprise flashed across Duncan's face as he 
glanced at Natalie. "You didn't tell them?"

"It never came up," Natalie shrugged, a pained expression 
settling in her eyes. Actually, she had been dreading this part 
of the immortality explanation. When Duncan had told her two 
years ago that she couldn't have children, it was as if a part of 
her had died. She had always known that pursuing a relationship 
with Nick would preclude any children of their own. But there had 
at least been the possibility... She didn't know how she could 
have explained that to one of her best friends.

"No, Mulder. The baby's not mine. I... we... can't have 
children." He glanced from Mulder to Dana as he said this, 
watching for the usual reaction. He was surprised when, instead 
of the expected look of disbelief and denial, she simply nodded 
silently, almost as if she had already accepted this. "Immortals 
don't have natural families... we never have. Every single one is 
an orphan or foundling. No parents, no siblings... and no 
children. I'm so sorry, Dana... but, you already seem to know 
about this?" He watched as Mulder glanced at her questioningly. 
He saw Dana shake her head silently, and him nod back in reply.

"It's kinda hard to miss that when you have to get annual 
physicals in our line of work," Mulder explained.

MacLeod realized that that was not what Mulder had 
originally intended to say. Besides, physicals didn't check for 
that kind of thing, did they? He was slightly amazed at the 
partners' ability to hold an entire conversation without speaking 
a single word. Such true partners in thought and spirit were rare 
indeed, and, for a moment, he envied them their closeness. But he 
decided not to press the issue any further. Whatever it was, it 
was obviously deeply personal, and the conversation was already 
taking a decidedly uncomfortable turn. Deciding to change the 
subject, he asked them how long they planned to stay in Seattle.

"We're currently on vacation for two, maybe three weeks," 
Mulder replied, "but, if Scully needs to stay here longer for her 
training, I'm sure we can extend our stay by a couple more 
weeks."

MacLeod shook his head. "Sword fighting is not something you 
can pick up like learning to follow a recipe, Mulder." Turning to 
Dana, he said, "A month is not nearly enough time to teach you 
what you need to know, Dana. You will be at a severe disadvantage 
if you don't stay longer. It takes years to become really 
proficient with a sword."

Mulder watched in horror as he saw his partner actually 
considering MacLeod's offer. 'This was it,' he thought, his heart 
sinking. 'I won't even have the few years I thought I'd have with 
her. No, this can't be happening. Don't say yes, Scully, please,' 
he silently pleaded. He closed his eyes, realizing that he 
wouldn't, couldn't in all conscience, stand in her way if she 
chose to stay. He opened his eyes again to see her look at 
MacLeod, then turn to look at him. Suddenly, he saw the dilemma 
resolving itself in her eyes. The sense of relief he felt when he 
heard her say, "No," was immeasurable. He let out a breath of 
relief as she continued, "No, Duncan. That's a very generous 
offer, but I can't stay. My work is too important. I have a life 
back home that I'm not prepared to leave just yet." Mulder smiled 
faintly upon hearing her words. 'Some life, Scully, being stuck 
with me and the X-files!' Now that she had refused to leave him, 
he allowed himself the luxury of contemplating life without her. 
And quickly came to the conclusion that it simply wouldn't be 
worth it.

MacLeod gave a sigh of resignation. "I didn't think so. Very 
well, I'll teach you as long as you can stay. When you get back 
to Washington, look up a friend of mine. He lives pretty close to 
DC, and he can train you the rest of the way. Here, let me get 
his address for you." He walked over and picked up an address 
book from the shelf, quickly scribbling down something from it 
onto a piece of paper before handing it to Scully.

She read the name on it and looked up at Duncan, a silent 
question in her eyes.

He smiled, "That's my great-granduncle, a couple of 
generations removed. Connor and I were from the same clan, as he 
would say, only different vintage. Both of us were adopted as 
foundlings. After I *died* the first time, he was the one who 
found me when I was cast out of my family. Everyone thought I was 
a demon, come back from the dead. Since then, he's been pretty 
much the only family I've ever had... father, brother, teacher... 
all rolled into one." He paused, letting the familiar yet painful 
memories fade away. The sound of the descending elevator brought 
his mind back to the present. As one, all four turned to see who 
their guest was.

"Nick!" Natalie bounded out of her seat as a tall blond man 
stepped out of the elevator. She gave him a hug and dragged him 
towards the others. "Guys, this is Nick. Nick, you know Duncan. 
These are Mulder and Dana. Dana is the other friend I was telling 
you about, and Mulder works with her." After a quick round of 
greetings, she turned to him. "Guess what? Anne invited us to 
dinner tomorrow night." She chuckled at the immediate expression 
of distaste that flickered across his face. Turning back to her 
friends, she said, "Well it's been great seeing you again, Dana, 
Duncan. You too, Mulder. But Nick and I have to go... ummm, run 
some errands. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Dana. Bye, guys." 
With that, she and Nick headed out.

"Tomorrow morning?" Dana asked when Natalie and Nick had 
left.

"Tomorrow morning," Duncan confirmed. "Like I said before, 
you need to start training as soon as possible. And that means a 
strict regimen of exercise and practice every morning. I want to 
see you here tomorrow morning at eight sharp."

"Eight?" Mulder whined. "But this is our vacation."

"Mulder, you're *not* coming with me," Dana retorted as soon 
as she heard his comment. Before he could begin to object, she 
continued in a softer voice, "Mulder, this is something I have to 
do. I don't know if I want to involve you in this."

"You know, Scully, I *was* fencing champ three years running 
when I was at Oxford. Besides, you'll need a sparring partner 
when we get back home."

"*No*" she said emphatically. "You could get hurt, Mulder. 
And, unlike me, you won't heal immediately." Her tone implied 
that she would brook no argument as she turned away from him, 
looking to Duncan for support.

When Mulder turned pleading eyes toward Duncan, he said, 
"Could you excuse us for a minute, Mulder?" With that, he 
motioned to Scully to follow him to the back of the room, out of 
Mulder's earshot.

Mulder watched in confusion as Scully followed MacLeod. A 
few moments later, he heard Scully exclaim, "What!... Are... are 
you sure?" He couldn't hear MacLeod's reply, but when they 
returned, he noticed that his partner couldn't stop staring at 
him. He looked from her to MacLeod questioningly.

"Looks like you'll need a sword too, Mulder," Duncan grinned 
at him. Together, they chose an elegant longsword for him. "Seems 
somewhat appropriate," he remarked as he watched Mulder heft the 
sword. "That particular blade belonged to Joan of Arc's Captain 
of the Guard during the Hundred Years' War."

Mulder turned to MacLeod in surprise. "Are you sure? About 
giving me this, I mean. I don't really need one like Scully 
does."

"Yeah. I'm sure, Mulder. And remember," he said watching 
Mulder place the sword in his coat, "tomorrow morning at eight 
sharp." He walked over to the elevator, escorting the partners 
out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mulder Residence, Seattle, WA
Tuesday, February 17, 1998
6:19 PM

Mulder looked up from the notes laid out on the desk in 
front of him and stretched. He could hear the muscles groaning 
and his joints popping as he did so. He couldn't believe he was 
still sore from that morning's workout. He usually considered 
himself pretty fit, but the rigors of the workout put even 
Quantico to shame.

As promised, Scully and he had shown up at MacLeod's gym at 
eight on the dot. They had entered the dojo to be greeted by the 
sounds of metal striking metal. In the center of the room, 
MacLeod and Natalie had already begun practicing their swordplay. 
Although the two of them had expected this, actually witnessing 
the parlay of swords was something else altogether. They stopped 
for a moment to stare at the two people on the mat, then walked 
over to one of the benches and sat down to wait for the sparring 
to finish. As they watched, the movement of the swords seemed to 
get faster and faster, until they could hardly see the actual 
blades themselves. Only the intermittent ringing of the swords 
and the occasional sparks given off when the blades met gave any 
indication that the fight was still on. All of a sudden, both 
Duncan and Natalie stopped, their breaths slightly ragged. They 
saluted each other and separated, each reaching for a towel to 
wipe themselves.

MacLeod turned to face Mulder and Scully, "Ready to start? I 
hope you brought your swords," he grinned. When they nodded, he 
gestured them towards the mat he was standing on. "You won't need 
them yet," he said, indicating that they place their blades aside 
for the moment. He then led them and Natalie through a half hour 
of exercises, or katas, as he called them, before starting on the 
basics of swordplay. He went over various stances, moves, blocks, 
parries, and thrusts. The object, he told them, was not to master 
all of these in one sitting, but rather to become familiar with 
them as they put them into practice over the following weeks.

But, after two hours of intensive workout, Mulder could feel 
his arms growing numb from holding up his sword. The longsword, 
for all its grace and delicate beauty, was deceptively heavy, and 
he envied Scully her smaller, and much lighter, sword. The 
partners took turns sparring with MacLeod and Natalie, although 
their unfamiliarity with the weapons was woefully apparent, even 
to them. Mulder begged off during his turn with Natalie and 
walked over with her to one of the benches. He sat down next to 
her, wiping his sweating brow, and watched as Scully swung her 
short sword against Duncan's katana, so intent on the exercise 
that she didn't even see him watching her. He couldn't help 
noticing that, inexperienced though she was with the exercise, 
there was a certain fluidity in her movements, a certain grace. 
'God, she's beautiful,' he thought for what must surely have been 
the millionth time. The chuckle he heard made him tear his gaze 
away from the two opponents to the woman sitting beside him.

"You really have it bad for her, don't you?" Before he could 
voice his protest, she shook her head, "Don't bother denying it. 
You were staring at her the same way I used to stare at Nick."

He sighed as his shoulders slumped in defeat, accepting that 
there was no point in protesting any further. He usually managed 
to maintain a professional distance from his partner while at 
work, only allowing himself small concessions like an occasional 
hand at the small of her back, or a momentary stare from behind a 
mound of paperwork. He was sure that no one at the Bureau even 
suspected. But, off duty, when his guard was more relaxed, it 
seemed as if there was a giant radio antenna over his head, 
broadcasting his feelings for Scully for the whole world to know. 
Scully's mother had already picked up on it, and now Natalie had 
called him up on it. 'If only Scully did, too,' he thought, 'it 
would be so much easier.' He grinned wryly. 'Wishful thinking.' 
Which was why Natalie's next comment took him completely by 
surprise.

"You know, there have been many mortal-immortal couples 
through the centuries. Like I told Dana, you'll never know until 
you ask." She gave a small laugh when she saw his jaw drop. 
Getting up, she gestured to the mat again, and motioned for him 
to follow.

Mulder quickly dragged his jaw up from where it was scraping 
against the floor and got up to follow her, his thoughts racing 
around his head at a hundred miles an hour. 'She'd asked about 
mortal-immortal couples? His Scully? But that would mean...' 
Suddenly, he was afraid to consider exactly what that would mean. 
And since when had he started thinking of her as 'His Scully' 
anyway? He was deliriously happy that she'd asked, and deathly 
scared at the same time. Bringing his sword to bear, he tried 
half-heartedly to block Natalie's swing, but his mind refused to 
leave the subject. He was eminently grateful when MacLeod called 
the session to a close a few minutes later. He knew he had some 
serious thinking to do.

So why exactly was he trying to work on a profile of the 
killer instead? 'You *know* the answer to that, coward,' screamed 
an inner voice. 'No,' he answered unconvincingly, 'I'm just 
working on the case. This *is* what I came to Seattle for.' 
'Riiiight, and I'm also the tooth fairy,' retorted the voice. He 
sighed as he tried once more to avoid the serious thinking he had 
promised himself that morning.

He looked down at the measly amount of information he'd 
actually managed to come up with, pushing his sore arms to move 
the pieces of paper they held. He was already starting to regret 
having offered to train with Scully. Although she had been as 
tired and sore after the workout as he was, all her soreness had 
disappeared in less than an hour, thanks to her accelerated 
healing. So now, while he had been stuck in the house all 
afternoon nursing his aching muscles, she was out getting the 
essentials for spending the next few weeks here.

He wondered briefly what she was doing at the moment. Would 
she be thinking about him? Why would she anyway? It wasn't as if 
he had anything to offer her. A lifetime of pain and loss, and 
later a burden as he grew older. 'But she asked Natalie about you 
know what,' the voice interrupted him. 'Yes, she did, didn't 
she?' he acknowledged. Surely, that indicated some interest. He 
sighed as he realized he would have to have a talk with his 
Scully soon... he smiled at his unconscious use of the possessive 
again. Before today, he hadn't thought she was the least bit 
interested, although what Mrs. Scully had said to him the week 
before still weighed on his mind. But now, the not knowing was 
slowly killing him. 'As soon as she gets back,' he swore, 
deciding to stop worrying about it for now.

Trying to get his mind back on the work at hand, he 
concentrated on what information he did have on the killer. 
Obviously, he or she was strong enough to have thrown the latest 
victim a half dozen feet into the air, as evidenced by the blood 
stain on the alley wall, and thrown her hard enough to break her 
collarbone and several vertebrae. Also, the killer would have to 
be pretty quick and efficient for the crimes to go unnoticed 
while being committed. Granted the crime scenes were pretty 
secluded, but the fact that there hadn't been even one report of 
any kind of disturbance or activity in the area was a little too 
coincidental for his tastes, especially considering the 
increasing number of such attacks. Surely someone would have seen 
or heard something out of the ordinary... there had been a bar 
full of people less than a hundred yards away from the last crime 
scene, for crying out loud. The profile went on to list several 
other possible descriptions of the killer, but there was no 
discernible pattern to the attacks, nor were there any 
connections between the murder victims or the ones who 
disappeared. The two sets of crimes were obviously related, if 
only because several of the murders and disappearances occurred 
together, but Mulder couldn't figure out any further connections 
between the two. And there was one aspect of the crime scenes 
themselves that had been bothering him from the beginning. Many 
of the victims were attacked in the middle of long alleyways, 
several of which deadended on one side. He couldn't see how the 
killer had gotten close to the victims without their noticing him 
or her. There were no windows or doorways in most of the alleys 
to hide a cat, let alone a human being.

He sighed as he realized that he was going around in 
circles. And he also noticed that the reason for that was not 
only the absence of clues, but also a certain redhead that kept 
popping into his head every few minutes. When he heard the front 
door, he thought, not without a little apprehension, 'Well, she's 
back. No sense in delaying now.' He reluctantly pushed the notes 
away and glanced at his watch. Whoops, he hadn't realized it was 
already this late. No time to talk now. He would have to start 
getting dressed now if he wanted to be on time for dinner at 
Anne's, he thought with... was that a sigh of relief? What 
exactly was he afraid of... 'Rejection,' he supplied the answer 
automatically, 'She'll hate me, she'll leave me, we'll lose our 
friendship...' He stopped himself before he spent the whole night 
adding to the list, and got up to get ready.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Anne Lindsey's residence
6:49 PM

Dana Scully stepped up to the door and knocked. While she 
waited, she looked at the man standing next to her. The sun was 
just setting and the last rays caught his angular face, 
highlighting it in profile, and reminding her once again just why 
she was so in love with him. Apart from his loyalty, his 
intelligence, his faith and trust in her, all of which she 
cherished more than anything, there was also the small... small, 
but definitely not unnoticeable, she thought with a smile... fact 
that Fox Mulder was beautiful. Yes, she definitely was in love, 
she acknowledged, surprised that she was doing so freely, even if 
only to herself.

She let her mind wander back to the events of the last two 
days. Her whole life had changed, inescapably, and she didn't 
know yet whether it was for the better or for the worse. When she 
realized the implications of her immortality, she'd tried to ask 
Natalie about the possibility of someone like her, an immortal, 
having a chance at a relationship with a mortal, camouflaging her 
interest as best as she could. And although her friend's answer 
about such a relationship being not only possible, but also 
common among immortals, came as a pleasant surprise, nothing 
could have shocked her more than what Duncan had revealed to her 
the night before. At least it explained the strange tingles she 
always got when she was near Mulder. She looked back at her 
partner standing silently beside her, and thought with a start 
that he had always been there for her, always more than just a 
partner. He was a friend... her best friend, she amended... and 
also something more than that. Not lovers, not yet anyway, but 
still something almost as special. And, if only she had the 
courage to tell him how she felt, there was a chance he would be 
there for her... beside her... in the future as well. If he felt 
the same way about her, that is.

She had spent the entire day trying to do just that, work up 
the courage to tell him. As soon as they had finished their 
workout that morning and gotten back to Mulder's place, she had 
mumbled some excuse about having to get provisions to stock the 
fridge, not that it wasn't already, and had hastily left. She 
could see that he was still sore from the morning exertions, and 
knew that he wouldn't try to come with her. She needed the time 
alone, to think about what she was going to say to him. But, by 
the time six o'clock had rolled around, she was still nowhere 
near a decision about what she would say, and it was already time 
for dinner at Anne's. 'After dinner,' she'd promised herself and 
had headed back.

Mulder caught her staring at him, and returned her gaze with 
a slight smile. Their eyes locked for a moment, and held each 
other captive. He didn't know what he saw in her eyes, but for a 
second, it unnerved him. However, before he could think about the 
possible meaning of the depth of feeling he had seen in them, 
they both heard the door open.

"Hi, Dana, Mulder, come on in." Anne stepped back to let the 
two of them through. "Nat just called to say that she and Nick 
would be here in a few minutes, so why don't you two make 
yourselves comfortable in the living room while I take your 
coats." She saw both of them hesitate just a little bit before 
handing over their coats, then head off in the direction she 
indicated.

They had just seated themselves on the couch in the living 
room when they heard the giggles. The soft sound caused them to 
jerk their heads around. It took them a while to find the new 
arrival. Hiding behind a door, a small head peeked out and the 
soft, merry sound was heard again.

"I didn't realize she was up again." Anne's voice made them 
turn back towards her. They watched as she walked over to the 
door and picked the pajama clad little girl. "Did mommy's little 
princess have a bad dream?" she crooned as she brought her over 
to the couple on the couch. "Mary, do you want to say hello to 
Aunt Dana?"

"She's beautiful, Anne," Dana said, reaching out to clasp 
the girl's little hands in her own.

"My pride and joy," Anne beamed, handing the child over to 
her friend. "She turned two just a couple of weeks ago."

Mulder watched as Scully gently placed Mary on her lap. 
Seeing her play with the little girl, he thought, as he'd thought 
a hundred times before, what a wonderful mother she would make. 
He sighed as he realized the impossibility of that dream now. 
Glancing up from the sight to look above the fireplace, he saw a 
row of pictures showing Mary at various stages in her life. Anne 
was in several of them, and MacLeod was in a couple as well. In 
fact, he saw a copy of the one he had seen at the dojo at the far 
corner of the mantel. He was shaken from his reverie by the knock 
on the front door and the simultaneous gasp from his partner.

"That's probably Nat now," Anne remarked, looking at Dana 
questioningly. The slight gasp hadn't escaped her notice. Just as 
she got up she heard the kitchen timer. Seeing that Dana had her 
hands full with Mary, she turned to Mulder. "Could you get the 
door while I go check on dinner?"

When she got back, she smiled when she saw that Mary's charm 
had enraptured her two new guests as well. "Hi, Nat. You're just 
in time. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes." She walked over 
to the new arrivals and introduced herself to Nick. Seeing Mary 
yawning again, she excused herself to put the little girl back in 
bed, then came back to sit down and chat with her friends.

A few minutes later, Mulder watched as Anne went to get 
dinner ready, and Scully followed her into the kitchen. Getting 
up to offer his help, he noticed Natalie looking at the pictures 
over the fireplace, a look of sadness on her face. She seemed 
particularly taken with the picture they had seen at MacLeod's. 
Her hand brushed it as she turned away to head into the kitchen. 
Mulder saw the picture wobble a bit as it lost its precarious 
balance on the shelf and tilted over the edge. Before he could 
reach it, however, he saw that Nick was already there. 'Funny, he 
wasn't there a moment ago.' With a movement faster than his eye 
could follow, the picture was back on the mantel, as if it had 
never moved. He saw Nick finger the picture with the same sadness 
Nat had shown. "Nice reflexes," he said, and saw Nick act 
slightly startled at the comment. He turned to Mulder and smiled 
as the two of them followed the women.

-----------------------------------------------------------------


8:17 PM

Mulder leaned back on the couch with a satisfied smile on 
his face. Dinner had been excellent. He realized with a start 
that the only other times he'd eaten this well were the times he 
ate at Scully's or her mother's. 'One more thing to add to the 
'List of advantages to a relationship with Scully',' he thought, 
smiling.

Everyone had commented on Anne's excellent cooking, even 
Nick. But Mulder noticed that he seemed to eat the least of all 
of them. And what little he did have on his plate, Mulder saw him 
deftly hide in his napkin when he thought no one was looking. He 
smiled when Natalie caught him once. Nick simply returned her 
glare with a small shrug. 'Poor guy,' Mulder thought, 'he's 
really not enjoying himself.' He could see no reason for it 
though. The food really was very good.

After dinner, they adjourned to the living room. The 
conversation eventually turned to the recent crimes. Although 
Mulder had his own theory about it, and he suspected that Natalie 
did as well, neither of them mentioned anything about it. So the 
general consensus was just what Anne herself had concluded. There 
was no apparent motive, and the condition of the bodies was just 
some sort of perverse act on the part of the killer.

When it was finally time to go home, they said their 
goodbyes and headed out. Mulder saw Nick and Natalie head towards 
their car, then turned to follow Scully down the path to his 
house. He had been surprised at how close Anne lived, but had 
enjoyed the walk over to her place earlier. "Nice night for a 
walk," he heard his partner say, just as he felt her place her 
arm lightly on his. He was about to agree with her when he caught 
the look in her eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he 
recognized the same look in them that he'd seen earlier. And it 
unnerved him no less now than it had then. Suddenly he felt his 
courage slipping. He swallowed hard, then croaked out, "Why don't 
you head on home? I want to ask Natalie something really quick. 
I'll catch up with you in a minute." Before she could protest, he